#yeah I’m on my daily rewatch of the scene what about it?
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the fact that carlos already had name ideas for the lizard… he really sat there on the way home throwing side eye at it in the passenger seat meanwhile he’s like ‘we shall call you louis the second. lou ii for friends and family.’ he’s so gonna be the guy that’s curled up on the couch with the pet he said he didn’t want.
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He’s an asshole but he’s MY asshole (V)
A/N: ngl i cried writing the beginning of this, rewatching the season for this series has been rlly fun (except for the scene where Fei dies rip my queen), OH MY GOD DONT USE THE SCHEDULE THING BC THEN THE TAGS DONT WORK!!!
Taglist at the bottom, feel free to ask to be tagged in upcoming parts!
Warnings: ANGST, girlie u are going THROUGH it, Reggie’s a douche, more angst, y’all almost break up, reader is said to wear a dress but its only a passing comment, drinking, swearing, eating, five might be ooc bc i havent written for him in so long, smoking, sex implications
Word Count: 4.2k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7
Laying on the pool table yet again in the Hotel Obsidian after your brother and other sister died. Can't seem to fucking escape this place. It's like Hotel California. Great now I’m gonna have that song stuck in my head. Laying on your back, head against the lip of the pool table, you admire the necklace Fei had got you when you were a teenager. Yours had said ‘Best’ while theirs said ‘Friends’. Originally they were black with white lettering but due to time, they had faded to a bronze color with black lettering from the years of filling them in with sharpie. Tearing up you curl into a ball and start to sob. My fucking family is dead, my fucking best friend is dead. Now in the fetal position, you full-body sob, not caring if anyone sees.
Ignoring the ongoing argument in the other room, you go to the buffet trying to find something small to snack on, finding an apple. Using your knife you peel and slice the apple, cutting it into little cubes. The thought of cubes breaks you again, dropping your knife on the floor and dropping to your knees. I want my family back, I want my fucking family, I NEED them. I need Alphonso’s shitty jokes, I need Jayme’s daily existential dread talk, I need Chris’ happy disposition, I need Fei. Sobbing you slide down the wall silently munching on the apple cubes. After a cry sesh, your arms fall to your sides, brushing the matted-down carpet. Looking forward all emotions drained out of you, feeling empty. Deciding to see what the other idiots are up to you head back toward the balcony.
Before walking into the room you hear Ben and Diego arguing. Leaning on the column you watch them argue, numb. “Hey, you guys done? The universe is disappearing outside. So you can keep rearranging the deck chairs of the Titanic if it makes you feel better. But the fact remains that we are too late,” Five says. “Come on, Five,” “It's over Luther, we failed.” “Come on. It cant be over over,” Viktor says. “Yeah, come on, Five. We gotta figure this out, man,” Diego insists. “Okay. How about we take a step back? Look at the big picture here. Most of us have spent the last 28 days trying to stop the world from ending. What exactly have we accomplished?” The room goes silent, the Umbrella’s reflecting on their past 28 days. 28 days ago I wasn't in this shithole and had all my siblings. Walking from your column you stand next to Ben, his arms wrapping instinctively around you. Normally, this would make you smile but not now, not after half of your family died. “Well, we made some friends along the way,” Luther says positively. “Incorrect! You know what we’ve done? Nothing. We made things worse every single time,” Five corrects Luther. Leaning closer to Ben your head leans against his bicep sighing. “Don't save the world.”
“Well, on that…super happy note, we’ve um--oh, what the hell,” Luther says as both he and Sloane stand. “We’ve got a little announcement to make,” “We’re engaged!” they say in unison. “Kill me, Jesus,” Ben mutters making you smile for the first time. Taking the flask out of his hand you take a long drink before giving it back. “Now?” Allison asks. “Yeah. Look, we realize the timing is less than ideal. But, obviously, it's now or never. Am I right, Five?” “Don’t drag me into this, please,” Five says while looking away. “What…Whatever time we have left, we wanna spend it with all of you. So we’re super pumped if you would join us in the banquet hall at 6:00 p.m. for a celebration of our love, and the official union of what's left of our two great families,” Sloane explains. “Dress code is creative black tie.”
Sloane goes around handing out their wedding invitations when Reggie and Klaus return after being gone for days. Klaus explains that they were tangled up in a father-son end-of-the-world road trip. Klaus’ long explanation ends with him saying that he’s now immortal. Huh, so that's what Diego was talking about. After accusing Klaus of getting into bath salts, Reginald asks why we’re playing with jars. “They’re invitations. Luther and I are getting married,” Sloane says to Reggie. “If he goes to their wedding I'm gonna be even more pissed off,” Ben whispers to you. Ah, your wedding was a magical time full of arguing and absent fathers. Sloane hands him an invitation before Luther tells him space is limited and taking it back. Ben picks your invitation up and looks at it, “Ours were better,” he jokes. “Well I mean it's not like they have marketable powers like us,” you continue joking.
“Dad, have you been taking your pills?” Sloane asks. “As a matter of fact, I haven't. And I can confirm that I’ve never felt better in my life. You thought you could dope me up and slow me down, take control of my affairs and squander my fortune,” Reginald says, looking directly at you. He’s always hated me, accusing me of only being with Ben to get a hold of his money, the feelings mutual. “Well, Klaus here was good enough to wean me off that wretched poison, and now that the fog is lifting I can see all your dastardly designs with a bracing clarity.” “You took him off his meds? What were you thinking?” Sloane asks upset. Reginald is then sent into another spiel about how he's the only one thinking and then calls him an impressive young man, causing Diego to laugh. “As for the rest of you, your training is to resume post-haste,” Thank fuck some normalcy in your last couple of days. Ben and you quickly tell him that you're ready. You can tell he’s been waiting for this, to go on a big grandiose mission since the last huge mission was years ago.
Five and Reginald start going back and forth; Five mentions that he talked to Pogo. God, I can't remember the last time I saw him let alone heard his name, I miss him. “Nobody wants you here, Dad,” Luther tells Reginald. “Hey, you don't speak for everyone, big guy,” Ben replies holding your entwined hands up. I don't even wanna be around him, he’s done nothing but make Ben and me feel like shit. I mean he didn't even come to our wedding when it was at his own house! “Feel free to join him.” Before Reggie can continue with another one of his long tirades, Klaus interrupts taking him to ‘have a cup of tea’ in his suite. Diego leaves as Lila quickly follows him; Sloane then leaves presumably to go see what’s up with Reggie, leaving you, Ben, and the Umbrella’s alone.
Walking past Luther and Viktor, Ben holding your hand and pulling you along with him, he overhears Luther mentioning his bachelor party and how “not everyone is invited.” “What was that?” Ben stops making the three of you look at him. “Nothing man, nothing,” Luther shrugs off with a quiet chuckle and smile. Ben quickly continues with you in tow, walking even faster than before. Getting to what you have claimed as your room Ben flops on the bed and sighs deeply. Flopping down next to him you ask “Is everything alright? You’ve been pouting since we left.” Ignoring you and rolling on his side away from you, staring at the wall. “Well, when you want to tell me I’ll be open, not gonna force it out of you,” you say walking towards the door baiting him to say what’s wrong. “Okay fine you pried it out of me,” he says with his usual dramatic flair, rolling onto his back, and staring at the ceiling. “It’s just…why wasn't I invited to the bachelor party?” he asks, completely serious. “Babe, are you joking?” you ask smiling thinking it’s just another one of his pranks. “No, why would I be joking?” he says turning and looking at you now sitting on the bed. “Well I mean you’ve been an asshole to them the entire time they’ve been here,” you tell him. “Listen, I’m gonna find Sloane and see if she needs anything before we get ready.”
Walking to what you remember is Sloane and Luther’s room, you start reflecting on Ben’s actions. Being that you were the only person that truly got to see who Ben was or wanted to be. For everyone (and even sometimes you) he wears a mask of a confident, arrogant leader but in those times when his mask slips you can truly see him. An affection-starved man craving any and all affection and recognition he can get. A man that just wants to be loved and seen by his father. Someone who has played a character so long that he himself doesn't know who he is. Finally, you made it to their room, knocking to the tune of ‘Shave and a Haircut.’ You can hear Sloane yell to come in, walking in you see her sitting in a chair hemming a dress. “Need any help?” you offer secretly hoping that she would say no. “Um, not at the moment but thank you,” she smiles. “You know I can't even believe it,” she confesses. “What the wedding or the end of the world?” “Oh shut up, you know what I meant. I just can’t believe I’m getting married,” she says smiling down at her dress. “I mean I always thought and dreamt of this day and now it’s finally here. Did you feel like this?” Sloane asks looking up at you like a little kid asking for their mom’s advice. “Well truth be told no, but that’s just because Ben and I aren't romantics, unlike you and Luther,” you say playfully rolling your eyes at the last part.
“So it’s official. My ears are broken and the idiot with knives really can’t sing,” Ben says barging in on you and Sloane’s alone time, the first part making Sloane jump at his sudden appearance. “Diego. You know his name is Diego.” Caught in the middle yet again. “Maybe you should try and be nice to him and the others,” Sloane says running out of patience for Ben. “And why would I do that?” “As much as I’d love to work through your anger issues right now, I have to get back to this. The wedding is in an hour,” she exasperatedly said, patience wearing thinner by the moment. “Fei is dead,” Ben says, reminding you about half of your family being dead and you soon too. “Yeah. I know. And so are the others.” “Oh, so that's it? You’re just gonna turn your back on the Sparrow Academy? I mean you heard Dad. we have training to do. Something big is about to go down.” “Ben, shut up,” you jump in, defending Sloane. “I wish you were talking about my wedding,” Sloane says sadly. “Okay, Sloane listen to me--” “No. You listen to me. I’m sorry they didn't invite you to the bachelor party,” Sloane says ever the nicest person in the room. “I don't…I don't care about that.” “yes, you do,” you and Sloane say in sync. “You care more about being invited to the bachelor party than Fei or the others or even saving the world.” “That's--that's... That's crazy,” Ben says chuckling awkwardly and looking at the ceiling before putting the mask back on and going back to his serious leader act.
“Is it? The three of us have never been alone. It's always been the eight of us. Now it’s just you,” Sloane says, Ben scoffing at her. “So congratulations, Ben. you're finally number one of one.” Ben looks at you incredulously, “So you’re not a Sparrow anymore?” “Why would I wanna be one?” you say about to cry for the millionth time today. Ben’s face drops for a second, looking you directly in the eyes, sadness written all over his face. “You don't mean that,” he says quiet enough that Sloane can’t hear. “Maybe I do,” looking at him tears in your eyes. “What’s so damn special about them anyway?” Ben resumes the conversation with Sloane. “They’re a real family. They don't exist to sell action figures and tote bags.” “We were more than that,” Ben tries to defend. “Were we?” No, we weren't. We were only a thing to deter crime (which didnt work) and sell merch. Hell, my own wedding had merch. “Why is it so important to you to be a Sparrow?” that's what pushes Ben to leave, quickly he walks out the door just before trying to grab your hand and pull you along unsuccessfully.
Time for a wedding! Dressed all fancy in a black gown that you found in one of the abandoned hotel rooms. You haven't spoken to Ben in an hour and a half, only seeing him here for the first time in that hour and a half. “What’s the deal with them?” Klaus leans to Five and asks. “I have no idea, could be because we’re all gonna die,” Five says matter of factly. Standing next to Allison, Ben walks toward you, “You look…so fucking good,” Ben says hoping to make amends. “Thank you. You look good too,” you say smiling while taking a drink of your champagne easing yourself into your night of hard-drinking. Standing next to you Ben grabs your hand and starts playing with your fingers smiling. “Hey. I love you,” he whispers, leaning into your neck causing you to smirk. “Love you too,” you say now giving him a sip of your drink. After that Luther and Viktor arrive, “I don't know. Normally, my tush looks good,” Luther says walking out of the elevator with Viktor. As soon as they walk out Allison and Viktor are already quralling. Luther whispers something to the both of them before raising his voice, saying “Bah, bah, bah! My day! Two hours. Do you think you can manage that?” Viktor replies with a ‘fine.’
The elevator bell rings and everyone faces toward to elevator. The seconds that it takes for the doors to open are painstakingly long, making you anxious and excited to see your sister. This was the day she would meticulously plan out when you two were in your teens, documenting everything she wanted in a large binder down to the lighting, and now it's finally here; albeit at the end of the world and planned over a night and a few hours. Looking at her you smile, “Let’s get this over with before I die of cringe,” Ben interrupts the beautiful scene of Luther seeing Sloane in her dress and the sweet moment the two of you were sharing.
The marriage was ordained by Klaus who gave a very eventful but meaningful officiant speech. Sitting on the left side next to Ben, you interact whenever Klaus says something that warrants it, such as him yelling “Can I get an amen?” to which everyone except Ben makes noise. Glancing towards him he's pouting again. I’m not his fucking mom, I’m not gonna babysit him the entire night. I actually want to have a good last day. “I pronounce you married as shit! Viva la apocalypse!” Klaus yells as Sloane and Luther kiss, making the tiny crowd cheer. After watching Sloane and Luther have their first dance, you start looking at the food spread; the cookies and brownies catch your eye more than the other foods. After putting the food on your plate (and grabbing a bottle of vodka) you turn around to look where to sit. You could sit with Ben and Allison and have the joy sucked out of you or Diego and Lila and have to deal with their mushy love talk or you could sit with Five, someone who you haven't gotten to know yet.
Sitting down across from Five he looks up from his food and nods to acknowledge you. Looking back toward Allison and Ben; the latter staring at you. “So I take it things aren't going so good with Ben and you,” Five comments chowing down on a pastry on the table and taking a looong drink. “Rather not talk about that, right now I just wanna get as fucked up as possible,” you say smirking while sitting the bottle down on the table. “Okay, I have some questions,” you say watching as Five pours himself another drink. “Are you actually like a kid or is it some time-travel fuckery?” you ask the burning question that’s been on your mind since you saw him and Ben fighting. Five goes on to explain the first apocalypse and him being stuck there for 40 years and how he’s actually a 53-year-old man. “Huh. so you’re a little old man,” you say as Viktor sits down next to you.
Getting up from your seat after talking with your new in-laws, bottle in hand you walk toward Ben’s table and flop down in the seat next to him, setting the bottle between you two. The elevator bell chimes making everyone look over and see Reginald walking in, making the room so silent, even the music. Reginald walks over and gets himself a plate and starts looking for a seat. “What is he doing here?” Ben asks rhetorically. “But who invited him?” “just sit and suffer with me,” Allison says making you giggle. “I can’t even get invited to a bachelor party and he’s invited to this?” “Wow. you really can't relax,” Allison comments making you giggle again. “Y/n, are you okay?” she asks, making a confused face at you now laying your head on the table. “Oh my god, how are you already drunk?” Ben asks in disbelief. “Well you see, in my grief, I perhaps stumbled upon the open bar and perhaps may have started the celebrating earlier than the rest. I mean come on, we’re on the edge of oblivion and you people expect me not to day drink,” you say smirking “And! I’m not drunk yet.” Leaning on Ben’s shoulder, you watch how awkward the wedding has become, no one making eye contact with Reggie. The awkwardness is semi-broken by Lila and Diego, Lila wanting Diego to introduce them. Watching them was nice, Lila and Reginald actually had things in common and got to talking, impressing Diego.
After the nice moment between Lila and Reginald, Allison had gotten up leaving you and a now pouting Ben alone. Ben and you had managed to drink almost half the bottle in addition to the numerous glasses of champagne. Now you both were laying your head on the table staring at each other, Ben laying on his plate of shrimp. Klaus soon made his rounds to your table; he had been doing this all night walking from table to table and person to person trying to convince them Reggie is good now. Guess it’s our turn. “Hey, Ben-ihana and lovely little eight,” Klaus starts. “Don't hit me!” he jokes sitting down at your table. “I know we all ain’t been best buds in this timeline or whatever, but man, do I have a mission for you--” Ben interrupts him by belching verrry loudly in his face making you giggle, still laying on the table. “Eleven people,” Ben says ominously making Klaus question. “There are only eleven people left,” “Ten and a half, I’m not all here at the moment,” you say making Klaus chuckle. “Okay. Drunk Ben clearly likes numbers and… shrimp,” Klaus says still trying to recover from Ben’s shrimp burp.
“And you couldn't even invite me to your stupid bachelor party.” “Oh. Have we finally flicked off bad Benny’s hard candy shell?” Klaus says rubbing his arm. “Why don't you like me? Or us?” Ben asks making you move next to his shoulder, cheek touching his jacket looking at Klaus. “Because you’re huge puckering assholes.” “Okay, but you like the other Ben and y/n,” Ben says annoyed and clearly sad. “Yeah, we love the other yous,” Klaus says with a hint of sadness. “Why? What’s so special about them?” “Because he was a know-it-all. He was a scold. He was a tiny dark cloud on a perfect sunny day,” Klaus laughs after that. “What about me? What was so special about the other me?” you ask now becoming increasingly curious and intrigued. “Oh my god, they were a pain. An emo with a preference for sulking and being pretentious in a corner. Know-it-all just like Benny,” Klaus explains about you, well the other you. “Those.. those are all bad things about us,” Ben says after looking down at his shrimp. “Yeah, and they looked great on you two.” “Okay, you know what? We are so much better than that other Ben and y/n. I was number one--” “Twice,” you interject. “And-and they ripped people’s throats out.” “Oh yeah, did that all the time in my timeline. Does Dad give a shit?” Klaus says before asking Ben. “No. he was busy hanging out with you” Ben whispers poking Klaus. “Oh, man, methinks you might be trying a little too hard. Look around. Nobody’s polishing their boots or pressing their tights. We’re a complete and total shit show. Ya get it? And our Ben and y/n, my Ben and y/n, were just that kind of disaster and it made them ridiculously easy to love,” Klaus says, sighing at the thought of his deceased siblings, before getting up to leave you two alone.
The speeches started after Klaus left and went back to Lila and Diego’s table. Reginald was first, talking about Sloane when she was little, calling Luther adequate, and talking about how he wishes that his shortcomings will be seen only as a rough patch. “I’m proud to call you my children, even those I raised in a revenant version of myself,” Reginald continues, glancing around the room before stopping on you, making you look toward Ben in disbelief. Holy shit, the man that wouldn't even acknowledge that Ben and I are married called me his child! Reggie’s speech continues and finally ends with a poem, Allison leaves making everyone look toward the walking woman. “Makes, no sense,” Ben says still eating his many shrimp as everyone starts applauding at Reginald’s newfound kindness. “All right! All right! Time to turn those frowns upside down. This one is for all my party people in the place,” the concierge turned now wedding D.J says, as everyone gets up and starts dancing on the dancefloor.
Dancing around with your new family and husband felt nice, it felt like it was just a normal wedding on a normal day. After all of the fast and upbeat songs played then started the slow songs. Arms wrapped around Ben’s neck while his arms around your waist the both of you sway drunkenly together. Looking up at him, you plant a small kiss on the end of his scar making him smile, and put his face into your neck and start kissing it. “Noooo, stop,” you say smiling and pushing him away jokingly. “No, come back here,” he says pulling you back before snuggling his face back into your neck. Leaving the dancefloor you and Ben go back to your seat. While sitting and drunkenly talking Klaus shows up and the three of you start walking around the hotel property.
Towards the end of the night Klaus, you, and Ben arrive back at the wedding noticeably more drunk than before. “Oh no no no no no!” someone shouts. “Klaus, why are you bringing Ben here?” Five asks. “Hear me out before--” “Hear him out,” you and Ben shout in sync as you take your shared cigarette away from Ben. “The brother that you all knew as Ben is gone. And not-- I don’t mean our Ben, the nice Ben. I mean this Ben, he’s gone now. The asshole, he’s gone now,” Klaus exclaims. “But that's what I liked about you, my asshole,” you say sadly looking at Ben. “Klaus, what are you talking about?” Luther asks. Klaus ignoring his question continues, “And the man that stands in front of you is new new Ben, and he’s one of us, and he’s a member of the team. And he’s part of the family!” Ben and Klaus shout the last statement in unison. “And as a welcome gift, I suggest we throw him off the roof,” Five says making you laugh. “Ha! They like me more!” you gloat at Ben. “Yeah, I’ll help,” Diego agrees with Five. “You know what. You know what. He can stay. He can stay,” Luther says. “And baby eight?” Klaus says holding your shoulders and giving puppy eyes. “They’ve been welcome to stay,” Diego says making you smile as you walk over with Klaus and Ben.
Almost as soon as you sit down everyone starts heading to bed. Standing up you pull Ben along with you, “I’m ‘sleepy’ if you get my meaning,” you say to Ben too loudly. Taking a moment to understand what you meant, Ben then realizes it, “huh? Sleepy? But-- Oh!” he says before speed walking with you toward to elevator.
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#masterlist#ben hargreeves x reader#sparrow!ben x reader#the umbrella academy x reader#tua x reader#umbrella academy x reader#the umbrella academy#umbrella academy spoilers#ben hargreeves imagine
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10/5/2022 DAB Chronological Transcription
Matthew 4, Luke 4-5, John 1:15-51
Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible Chronological, I'm China. Today is the fifth day of October. It is so nice to be here with you today. Today we are in the book of Matthew, chapter four. We are also in the book of Luke with, with chapter four through five. And we are also in the book of John, chapter one, starting at verse 15, going through 51. And we continue on with the New International Version for this week.
Commentary
So we have a couple of different stories that we read today that flow in with each other and also are a little bit different. And so Jesus is starting to reveal who he is and he's begun to collect his disciples. And I love reading that because everyone has such different responses and they're collected from different places. They're not all just, okay, yeah, I like you twelve who are all just conveniently right here. All of you guys follow me. It's fishermen, it's a tax collector. It's people who probably would have never shared a meal together, let alone talk to each other civilly. And there's a series that has been created that our family really loves watching because it has really put a good visual to the scriptures and we just have really loved it. And it's pretty, I would say pretty scripturally accurate and also kind of dives into it a little bit more of maybe what could have happened. And so I don't know if you guys have watched the Chosen or not, but we are big fans of it for sure. And so my mind has just been playing out some of the different scenes where Jesus is collecting the disciples and yeah, I just can't help but think about that. And now I'm like, oh, I want to go back and rewatch it, but I'm really enjoying reading these gospels and reading the different parts of scripture that we have read and then it picks up and it continues. Or we're just reading from a completely different story entirely. But there's not too much about John the Baptist, but from what we do know and what we are reading about him is this man is walking in true fullness of who he is. He knows what his position is, he's got a lot of self awareness, a lot of maturity, and he's got solid identity in the way that he knows who he is and he knows who he's not. And he's not trying to make himself to be something that he's not. He has very humbly admitted I'm not the one, but it's the one after me and I'm not even fit to carry his shoes or to untie his shoes, depending on the writer. Something that I forget a lot of times in scripture but that is kind of like easily remembered in the very forefront. And then you kind of get is Jesus and John the Baptist are second cousins. So could you imagine being I know that John the baptist is not Jesus's highman. Man, but kind of is. Could you imagine having a cousin or a family relative that is not, like, famous, but is the Son of God and was formed via holy conception? And now you have gone into the wilderness for 40 days, 40 nights. You come out of it and you are just crystal clear with identity and with instruction. And you know that your role is to make straight the path before Jesus, before the Messiah. That is crazy to think about. And then jumping down into further scripture from today, like we had talked about, more of the disciples are being instructed to follow Jesus. And again, I love that it's not just all right in one sitting. And I'm curious, though, what about these specific men did Jesus see in them? They weren't put together men by any means, but they also weren't outcast either. So it kind of feels like the criteria, maybe there isn't any. Maybe it was God Himself through Jesus being like, this one and this one and this guy, and maybe not that guy, but this guy. I don't know what that would have been like. But I do know that Jesus is starting to reveal who he is and what he's doing here. Even when the teachers of the law and the Pharisees are starting to question, wait, why are you meeting with them? Why are you sitting with these people? Like, what? This is so uncommon. This is not the socio norm. And Jesus is telling them it is not the healthy people that need a doctor, but the sick. And he's starting to do the famous Jesus parables where people with ears to hear will hear Him, and people who do not will stay in a place of confusion and try to trip Him up to not mess with the status quo and make them uncomfortable. And also, there was already a statement today of, well, that's blasphemy. And so now there's some things already being stirred up and we're just in a few days of Jesus ministry.
Prayer
So, God, I thank you so much for Your Word, and I thank you so much for all the different stories that we have. I thank you for what a blessing and a gift Your Word is. And I pray that we would cherish these things in our hearts as we have learned about who you are, God, and now who you are through Your Son. And Jesus, we just love you. And I feel like I'm finding myself love you each and every single day, and especially reading Your Word and Your Gospels. So I thank you that the truth is that when we seek you, we find you. And I thank you for that truth, and I pray that we would continue to remain close to your heart, and it is in Your name we pray, amen.
Announcements
Dailyaudiobible.com is our website. That's the place of connection. So you can see what's happening here in the community. So be sure to check that out. If you have prayer requests and or things that we as a community can come alongside of you and encourage you and lift you up, and then you can call at 800-583-2164. And if you listen through the app, there is a way for you to record your prayer requests and to send them in here and they get played at the end of every day's podcast. That is all for today. I'm China, I love you. That will be waiting for you here, tomorrow.
Community Prayer Line
Hi, everyone. It's Christy in Kentucky. Well, I did it. I pushed the wrong button when I sent in the prayer request, so it went to DAB. So I'm going to try this again on the DAB side. Father, we thank you for this day and we are lifting up today Chile in Florida. Father, we are asking that you regulate his heart rhythm, father, to beat with yours. Father, he feels weak, so we are asking you to strengthen him, Father, and we thank you in advance. Lord, we are praying for Crystal and Illinois's motherinlaw as her brother is committed suicide. O Father, you are so close to the brokenhearted. We pray that they feel your presence and your comfort. Father, we pray for Crystal's brother in Baltimore. Lord is seeking his degree and it needs discipline in his studies. Father, we ask that you give him focus. Lord, we pray for Samantha in Tennessee's grandmother who has cancer, along with the unknown caller whose friends Jeremy and Alan in Scotland have cancer. Father, she also has a friend who has stage three cancer. Father, we are asking you to be with them. Father, Jeremy need you because he doesn't know you. Father, we are asking for salvation for him. And Father, we ask that you heal these. Father, we pray also Lord Jesus for my friend Judy's family. Judy went home to be with Jesus this morning and I am praying, Father, that you will lift up her husband Max and her daughter Sherry to you. Father, for those of us who have lost mothers, we know this is such a difficult journey. Father, we are also asking you to be with those in Florida. Lord, I ask that you be with my son in law whose home was flooded and also with my friend Judy, whose home was flooded as well in Orlando. Lord, I'm asking you also to be with my friends Terry's, Aunt Judy, who had a stroke into Tia yesterday. Father, I'm asking you to touch and heal. Thank you so much for praying fam.
Hi, this is Victoria soldier, just calling to pray for some of the DABbers. I want to pray for Kim in Kentucky and hear the word of the prayers of some of the daughters that stand up with. I want to pray for Sierra in Texas. She have been in a bunch of deals with the prayer. I want to pray for her I want to pray for Christie of Kentucky, of her husband Tim, and the problem is going through his hands and the surgery and all of the confusion. I'm going to pray for Tommy from surface, John and Cindy to open doors in their lives and to make a difference. Gracious father, we just ask you for the name that I've called. Father, you know the situation, you know everything about it. You know, God, they can do the impossible. First, I ask you for life in favor in their life. Lord, I ask you for Your will to be done in their life, your guidance and Your protection and your prophetic will to be done. You have a plan for their life. It's for a future and a hope. Father, we just ask you to have your way to heal, to deliver whatever that needs they need. Lord, you said you will supply all their needs according to your riches and glory. By Christ Jesus, we just let you to have your wat. We want you to continue to have your will in Jill and China's life. And we were glad to hear from the little brave little brave baby, Lord, her little child, and bless her husband, Father, and all the people of God. Lord, we just thank you for your spirit and Your presence and we thank you for your miracles and Your grace. We just ask you to have your wit. In the mighty name of Jesus and Lord, we give you the glory and the honor and the praise in Jesus name. Love you all. Deborah, talk to you later. Bye bye.
Hi. It's Yvonne from Alberta, Canada. I'm just going to jump right into praying for a request that I heard today. Heavenly Father, I want to lift up Abigail and Blossom to you, Lord, and their whole family. Lord, I ask for a hedge of protection to be put around blossom, Satan is sending the spirit suicide to attach to her of alcoholism, of bitterness, of depression. Lord, your little girl needs protection. So I'm asking, please cover her, cover her with the blood. Lord, I want to thank you so much for Abigail and for Mike and for the wisdom that you keep giving to them. Lord, I ask that there would be reconciliation in this family, and that the parents, rather than being worried about how good of a parent they are, that they would prefer what lost her first, put her health first. Lord God, have your way. You are so strong, so mighty, so powerful, and you can defeat the enemy with your pinky fingers. And so Lord, I'm asking, please do that for this family. Stand up for this family and send a good, strong Christian into the life of Blossom, Lord, so that they may lead her and guide her to your kingdom, Lord, so that it may expand even further and kick devil in the face. In the name of Jesus, I pray and I thank you, lord. Bye.
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Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (678): Wed 24th Jan 2024
Up all night because of this bastard storm. What do we even need wind for anyway? That’s right: to fly kites. And who even flies kites? That’s right: wankers. I’m genuinely starting to worry about the stability of my room given that I live in an attic conversion and it has withstood many storms over the years so for all I know the structure, much like Piers Morgan’s career, could be on the verge of collapse. Later in the day I watched the brilliant film The Disaster Artist (although in retrospect I probably should have rewatched The Old Dark House since it would have fit the atmosphere given that my house was shaking like a shitting dog) and my opinion is still pretty much the same as it was then I first watched it which is that it’s really good but the story it’s trying to tell has already been done better by Ed Wood. I think the main drawback of the film is that the majority of the people who went to see this film had already seen The Room and so seeing the scenes from the room be remade and then have the cast act out a generation of internet reviewer’s explanations of why these scenes are so cringe feels a bit unnecessary. With Ed Wood not everyone who went to see the movie knew about the director it was based on or his films and so when Wood’s scenes are re-enacted in the biopic most of the audience were seeing them for the first time. Indeed a lot of the best scenes in this movie are comparable to similar scenes in Ed Wood that are trying to get the same reaction from the audience. For instance the scene where Tommy Wiseau reveals he doesn’t know the difference between digital and film so buys both is comparable to the scene in Ed Wood where Ed shoots a take then insists on moving the the next one without doing a second take for protection. Both scenes are intended to combat the director’s enthusiasm / naivety. Ed Wood ends with Wood meeting Orson Welles who convinces him that dreams are worth fighting for which reminded me of the scene in Disaster Artist where one of the actresses in The Room comments “Even the worst day on a film set is better than the best day anywhere else” (yeah, maybe don’t tell Alex Baldwin that). Tuned into tonight’s Hollyoaks. I have almost 400 followers now which is incredible. I had always hoped to build a little community of my fellow fans and am really happy with my modest following (although 1000 would be better). We got a few scenes with Suzanne and Darren tonight discussing the best way to parent their kids. I often wonder what happened to Neville Ashworth after he found out Suzanne cheated on him all those years ago. I always pictured him having a nervous breakdown, forgetting who he was and becoming a member of Ali G's gang Da West Staines Massive.
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Looking for a Place to Happen
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.
This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.
Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely
Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore
💀💀💀
The sleepy town of Birch was awake.
In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.
It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.
As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.
The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful.
You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.
You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much.
You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.
You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.
You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.
You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps.
You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.
You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.
💀
You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.
“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.
“For what?” you scoffed.
“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.
You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.
“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”
“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”
“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”
She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.
“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”
“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.
“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”
“Language,” she huffed.
“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”
“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.
“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”
“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”
“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok.
“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.
“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”
“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”
“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”
“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”
“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”
She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.
“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”
“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”
“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”
“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”
“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”
💀
Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.
When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.
You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.
As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce.
“More basil,” she snipped.
“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”
“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”
“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.
“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”
“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”
“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”
You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.
You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.
You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.
You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.
“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.
You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.
“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.
The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way.
You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.
“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.
“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”
“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.
“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”
“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.
“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”
As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.
“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.
“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.
“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.
“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.
“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”
“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.
“Am I bothering you?” he asked.
You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.
“Sorta,” you answered.
“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”
You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.
“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.
You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.
“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”
“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”
“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”
“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.
“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.
“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.
“Well?”
“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.
“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.
You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.
#sam wilson#dark sam wilson#dark!sam wilson#sam wilson x reader#birch#series#sequel#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#looking for a place to happen#biker au#biker!au#au#marvel#mcu#captain america#avengers#tfatws#falcon#biker boys of birch
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So, Signs that 15x20 isn't real: El Sol beer; warm, saturated lighting; Dean's choice of clothes. Signs the writers were silenced: cut-out-tongue-vampire-thing. Sign it's about sexual repression: Vampires! Sign it's all about the gay: Dean was nailed from behind. Anything else to add to that list of symbols? Because this looks like the writers winking SOS at us in a kidnapper's video.
oh gosh... I keep meaning to rewatch the finale and make a full list of it all, because this is tip of the iceberg stuff. But I just... heck I just don’t want to watch it again :’D
That rewatch is on the agenda, and I’m currently watching 15.09 on the eternal loop. According to the TNT schedule, they’re showing 15.20 on Tuesday, looping directly back to the pilot immediately afterward. So... if I do decide to watch that (and I haven’t decided yet), that’s... gonna be some wild whiplash...
But anyway, back to the question!
You have a pretty good list going there...
I’ll add these things that made the episode feel like not-a-finale:
-no Road So Far segment, or even any sort of “important moments from the last 15 years that brought us to this point” sort of montage/retrospective of their lives
-no Carry On Wayward Son at the beginning, but TWO versions of it back to back at the end
And these things that were just general wtf moments for me:
-Sam? cooking breakfast? since when does Sam make breakfast, ever? that’s Dean’s thing
-Dean, with a dog? since when has Dean ever wanted a dog? That’s Sam’s thing
-Dean makes his bed, and it looks messier when he’s done than before he started (this is... not Dean-like... I actually went back and checked previous shots of his room)
-they never, not once in the episode, act like they have even one (1) single friend or any sort of goal or direction in life, which is weird...
-apparently they’d been unable to find a hunt, making it seem like the supernatural world had been quiet (for a moment I thought maybe monsters were no longer a problem in a post-Chuck world), until they stumbled on a hunt out of nowhere after choosing to go to a pie festival... as if the moment they chose to do something to move on and just have fun, suddenly there was work for them to do and they immediately abandoned everything to hunt these mystery monsters from John’s journal, which turned out to be a trap for them (specifically for them? considering the rando s1 vampire seemed to have lured them there?)
-The fact Dean recognized this vampire he never even interacted with and somehow magically knew her name, despite it never having been stated in canon and, again, Dean never having interacted with her outside of watching her escape with the vampire who actually DID bear them a grudge from 1.20...
-the weird lingering close up shot of the rebar during the fight scene
-the invocation of “destiny” and “don’t have a choice” as they went into a freaking pie festival... this hits bad right now because I’m rewatching 15.09 in the background as I type this, and it was almost word for word what the Dean in Chuck’s vision of the future said to Sam as they resigned themselves to go off on their final hunt (which was vampires btw), which they lost because in the next scene Sam and Dean have become vampires and are both killed... so like... this was Chuck’s story. The trappings might’ve been different, but it was still fundamentally the same... Cas locked away in a terrible place (ma’lak box in Chuck’s story, Empty in Dabb’s), Dean resigned to his fate because of a vampire hunt gone bad.
-then the pie festival itself... Dean’s got a huge tray with half a dozen different varieties he’s excited to try (purchased from Dabb’s Pies...), is eager to taste them all (like... metaphorically trying out different “apple pie life” ending scenarios, because he’s finally free to explore and maybe he actually wants the pecan pie life...), but before he can even taste the first bite, Sam... chooses one and smashes it in Dean’s face.
-even weirder, Dean never once in the episode says Cas’s name, or seemed even once to give a dang about Cas at all... and handwaved it when Sam mentioned Cas and Jack. It had been like... days, on screen (if they’d intended for more time to have passed, they would’ve indicated that on screen, and they did not... they showed us MAYBE three days passing since the events of 15.19). So like... did Dean have a personality transplant or what. Sam says Cas’s name in the ep, Bobby says it in Heaven. Dean... never does. Which is weird, considering how many times he’s said Cas in canon over the years, to the point it’s literally become memes...
-jumping around a bit here, but why Masked Vampires? Why had John failed to figure out they were vampires originally? Because he believed vampires were extinct? because he hadn’t been told they existed at all yet when he’d confronted them in 1986? Was John suddenly just A Bad Hunter after years of canon reinforcing that he was actually a really good hunter?
-and why THIS WEIRD CONGLOMORATION OF JOHN-RELATED CASE NONSENSE? From his journal to the murder clowns to rando vampire from their first vamp hunt? It’s like the perfect storm of erasing the last 15 years just to “bring it back to the start” to end it all like it could’ve had this been s1 still.
-speaking of John, and the El Sol in Heaven... WHY would Bobby hand Dean “John’s Beer” in Heaven? Especially since Dean expressed the fact that he didn’t even like it? Like... why wouldn’t he have been handed a beer he actually ENJOYED in Paradise? Why force a John Beer on him when he could literally have anything he wanted?
-and why was Heaven for Dean, in a place where he could literally have anything he wanted, go anywhere and do anything, why was he just driving through the woods along back roads? After years of talking about how he wanted to go “toes in the sand,” take a vacation, go fishing, or even finally get to eat a piece of pie? Or like ANYTHING he’d talked about wanting to do over the years that he never had a chance to... but apparently the thing he’d arguably spent the most time during his life doing is the only thing he wanted to do now that every possibility was open to him? Yeah, no that’s stupid...
-Tree (the final shot of 15.04 with bobblehead Sam and Dean by the tree like they didn’t have a thought of their own, Chuck’s plastic figurines dancing on his orders, very much like where they randomly parked and had the “vamp mime” conversation)
-Dean casually resorting to the threat of torture after YEARS of the show condemning this choice. Dean gratuitously being “a killer” when his acceptance of the fact that that’s not who he was in the previous episode was literally the thing that defeated Chuck... like... this was entirely stupid...
-just... the pacing of the episode was so weirdly wonky, with random cuts and no sense of time passing anywhere, nor interconnectedness between scenes, and the weirdly uncomfortable interminable death scene. Like, it looked like the death scene of a soap opera heroine. It was upsetting when Dean hit the spike and realized what had happened, but then he just... lingered... dangling on the hook for Sam’s benefit. Like Dean was nothing more than set decoration like a framed portrait for Sam to hang up and walk away from. Which is weird... and stupid... Dabb knows how to do pacing, and it’s like he forgot everything he ever knew about writing to force this “good way to die” trope, as if the previous 15 years of the show hadn’t been spent denouncing (and Dean finally overcoming) this mindset of “I always knew I’d go down swinging” or whatever. WHY. IT WAS STUPID.
-Wig
there’s probably more, but I’m tired and have reached my daily limit for the wtf of this episode >.>
Anyone else, please feel free to add more.
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Idol Land PriPara 02
AMARI I MISSED YOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUU
The PriPara gates only opening in certain places at certain times reminds me of the Digital Gate from Digimon ahah. I love this. It also just fits the concept of a mobile game well. You can fall in from anywhere.
IDOL DADS
(I’m always saying Hijiri and Rei are the Prism Dads in King of Prism but this is another level.)
Ace Asashi and his CUTE FACE
NOOOOO KOYOI’S SOUP
KOYOI MADE YOU SOUP SHOGO HOW COULD YOU
Strong Minato vibes from this
(......Gawd I’m projecting King of Prism on these boys so hard)
Okay Amari is right. Not about being a trash idol, but being THE ONLY ONE WHO CARES ABOUT YUI (aside from Shogo) DESPITE THE FACT THAT SHE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW HER
No, I don’t care about Mirei’s explanation here (about how just having fun in PriPara technically helps her) hahaha just wow.
Okay so they DO know what happened to Shuka... Aw...
Even Meganii has limits
“Promises”
OH
MY
GAWD
Do you know what this is? Do you know what this freakin is!?
It’s dailies.
WE’RE GOING TO SAVE YUI
BY DOING MOBILE APP DAILIES
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
okay that’s pretty hilarious
That’s a new one
Amari you’re gonna have to get used to having fans
Because your biggest fan
IS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
RASSERA RASSERA RASSE RASSE RASSERA (Taiga!!!!)
Pffffft
I kinda like this new glass wall thing
Oh for f*cks sake
You’ve got to be kidding me
It’s been
YEARS
And they’ve still got ONE SONG (and six spider legs)
Did it ever occur to Shogo that if singing the same song over and over again isn’t waking up Yui maybe they should IDK try a different song
(Really tho PLEASE for the love of god let them perform their other stuff this season)
Mamma mia (I forgot about this)
AHHH!!!! Amari’s performance was different this time! She only did the generic Making Drama last time but she actually got her own brand Making Drama this time. MR = Mousou Reality (fantasy reality = fantasies becoming real?)
Okay excuse me what
I uh
UHHHHHHHHHHH
I thought this could only happen to vocal dolls
Um
Okay so I rip on stuff in these posts all the time but I actually do hate this
I’d rather she just stayed asleep hahaha
The goat costumes! The Shogo face.
Oh that’s Amamiya! Is he a regular at Danpri?
He’s probably been before, but this was super noticeable to me because I just finished rewatching the first season of PriPara. And they talk a lot about boys not being able to go and often show Amamiya watching from the outside. Like there was this one specific scene where Reona is talking about Dressing Pafe performing for all the boys who can’t go. And it’s so funny looking back on because Danpri is kind of a huge retcon. Like apparently this entire time there was this whole PriPara for boys nobody talked about hahah.
Edit: Wait... why do the boys above have shirts that say PP? It’s not for PriPara. Does the Prism Stone of the Danpri world have the initials PP?
Taking bets on how many more episodes they’re just gonna do the thing.
Maybe they’re gonna just sit back and judge and when the entire season’s over they’re gonna be like “Well that was OK” and walk away.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
THE BOY IS HERE
Yeah so he’s just Amari’s imagination become reality. Maybe she kickstarted it by bashing into the glass?
Oh actually I wonder if he’s gonna team up with Dark Nightmare so that’s why they’re waiting ahaha hmm.
Welp, until April (or whenever the anime starts for real).
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Did anyone else notice the acknowledgement to Nick’s past between the victim services advisor April Martin in the episode Death and the Maiden? How she told him to keep the other card just in case because she senses Nick’s own abuse and how hostile he is towards her for it?
oh nonny how I wish I could find the two page essay I had written to my friend back when this episode first aired, of how this episode was a perfect exploration without directly acknowledging Nick's past, of Nick's past. How he was so affected by this case but unlike 2x03 he didn't let it show--I think the 2x03 case we saw more of his emotions because it so closely paralleled his own experience that he even put himself in the damn flashback which is not something you see like, ever in that show (off topic but I hope the revival brings back those classic flashbacks)
I think April was yet another in what I feel like is a pretty sizeable pile of storylines that they probably wanted to explore a bit deeper--maybe even a full on relationship between the two of them--and hell now that I think about it, there was that bit in 12x03 where Nick had that back and forth with Doc Robbins' niece about baggage and stuff and you just know it was hinting at all of Nick's baggage--but I def think she had gotten some sort of feeling from him that made him stick out from all the other CSIs, which is why she was so willing to help and even came to him when she sensed that something wasn't right with Tommy--if any other CSI had gone into that office, would they have gotten the same treatment from her? Would they have stood up to her (fairly) cruel jabs towards the CSIs who in her eyes, treated death as a joke and victims as evidence? I feel like most others would just shrug her off but here we have Nick who's like "uhm yeah no, that's not how it is" and for once he's the one challenging that almost ignorance (similar to how his ignorance was at times, challenged, i.e a little murder) and while yeah he kinda storms off cause her words hurt him (bless his heart) and pissed him off she saw that, she saw that hostility that was obviously covering something deeper within him and extended that hand, extended her heart and I think if she reappeared in the show again, Nick would have returned the favor--maybe not full on divulging his past, maybe not directly seeking the service that she offers in the professional sense but maybe would have just...let her in a bit.
I rewatched those two scenes they had to answer this ask and another notable thing to me is that Brass was the one who led Nick to April--Brass, who has been there for all of the victimizations Nick's had to experience (and I mean...just look at Stalker. Look at how he cups his hand around Nick's neck, calming him down, comforting him with a soft smile and the assurance that "it's over") and so he obviously knows who April is, what she's capable of--and how Nick might not just need a professional consultation so to speak for a case, but a personal one too? And like yeah, he's not super reckless "i'm not afraid to die" post meat jekyll yet but I think Brass has known Nick long enough to see those cracks in him and idk man, I'm sure with just...Nick being Nick, with how he survived literally being thrown out of a window, all the gun point incidents, having been stalked, blown up, being buried alive--seeing Nick surviving all of that and still coming to the job that got him in those predicaments in the first place (well ok though, Stalker may have still happened if he wasn't a CSI since Nigel met him while installing his cable but oh god...what if the team was too late? how would that lack of personal connection to Nick affected their urgency to protect him??? What if that instance is what would pull Nick into the team? The possibilities of AUs are endless here folks)
but with all of that, there must be something else that happened to him to allow him to literally rise from a grave being like "yeah I'm fine." Something worse. Something that men in particular don't seem too eager to talk about.
Brass is a detective.
He's probably seen it all between his time in New Jersey and Vegas.
He probably saw something in Nick that he's seen before in other victims.
And not only that, he knows that like April, Nick has a big heart. A big bleeding heart even though Nick denied that April did, I think it's clear that Nick sure as hell has one and while he ends up kinda hardening up as time goes on--we still get flashes of it. we still see him admit to Doc in season 13, "sometimes this job really gets to me" and he tells Nick, "worry when it doesn't."
What if Brass felt that Nick was heading towards that direction? Season Ten Nick, while again, not as reckless as Indestructible Season Eleven Nick, was def carrying his head a little too high. Sure, he was stepping into more of a leadership role and therefore had to kinda hold back some his emotions, but seeing him work this case, seeing him say "I would have killed him too," seeing him take this case so seriously and probably in a big whole denial, "this isn't the same as what happened to me." there had to be something going on and that's why he gives him to April. To not just help the victim, but help himself before becomes too hard-boiled.
Before he stops being Nicky.
And going back to April and your original ask 😅 I could def see her being able to work with Nick a lot more than any of the "therapists" that Nick seems so against, just getting bits and pieces and running with them as much as she can. Maybe encouraging him to let her see more of the CSI side to things, and letting him see the work that she does. It wouldn't be easy, of course, I could see Nick walking away when she pushes too hard, just like Catherine did, but if he got backed too far into a corner or if she caught him on a really vulnerable night, I bet he'd crack like an oyster and just tell her everything and she would be able to help him in ways that nobody else could to that point--she could help that ghost of the nine year old boy who was too scared to do anything but sit in his room, in the dark, waiting for his mom to come home. Does she encourage him to finally tell his parents about it? Does she encourage him to tell more of the people close to him? Does she encourage him to sure, keep it to himself but to not blame himself for it? To show him that he can still trust the people he's "supposed" to trust, that the work isn't as dark and heavy as he sees it on a daily basis (which, hell, maybe they could have done the post grave danger burn out storyline george talked about wanting to do in an interview once where he couldn't' even look at spaghetti without seeing blood and bodies--god let this man just be the showrunner of his own show) and GOD! we could have just had it all. It could have been such a real, genuine relationship between two people on different sides of the same coin that tips the scales of justice--connecting over victims, and how they just want to help
#nick stokes#jim brass#april martin#mk talks csi#nick and brass#nick and april#lol just like kelly man i wanna explore this relationship more in fic#so i'm preemptively making that tag in case i ever write again#csi 10x06
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Hello,
Sorry my English isn't perfect,
Do you know if "close contact" scene meant kiss, fight, etc. only, or if it can also mean less than 1m of distance between the actors (so possibly "just" talking) ?
Thanks a lot for everything you're doing, you are truly amazing !
I'm not a native English speaker either, there's no reason whatsoever to apologize for possible mistakes (I make a ton of them on a daily basis), not sure most of the native English speakers would fare so well if they had to communicate in our respective native languages at the level of which we use the English language, so, I think we are doing just fine. 😌
Anyway, close contact.
So, back in January (Jan 12), Jeanine did an IG live with one of her Trollstopia co-stars, and during that, she was asked, how kissing scenes were handled during Covid filming, and Jeanine said they were calling these kind of scenes "close contact scenes" (if you want to rewatch that part of the live, it starts around 16:50).
And just a couple of days earlier (Jan 7), Vlamburn also did an IG live, and right at the end (starting at 24:50) this happened:
V “Dude, you’re working tomorrow, aren’t you?”
T “Yeah.”
V “Then I’ll see you next week.”
T “Yeah, you will.”
V “We’ll be on set together.”
T “Yeah, we will.”
V “Gonna be nice.”
T “Next Tuesday.”
V “I gotta do extra Covid testing because it’s a close contact.”
T “*inhales* I know. I did mine today.”
V “Ooof, we’re gonna be so close.”
T “So close, yet so far.”
At the time (early January), they were filming episode 3x06, and considering what Jeanine said about the meaning of "close contact scenes", we assumed that maybe a kiss would happen in 3x06.
I've seen people being disappointed (some even angry), bc they feel like we were "promised" a kiss when that wasn't exactly the case.
They stood pretty close during their scene (less than a meter), I guess this is also considered "close contact". And maybe that's what Tyler meant when he said "so close, yet so far". xD
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The Rewatch Academy: Episode 6 of Season 1
“The Day That Wasn’t”
I am in no way a good analyst so my little analysis and speculations probably sound a bit goofy or pretty wild and probably mean nothing at all. Everything I put into this post about each episode is purely what I noticed or thought, whether it’s funny or serious. I will be making jokes, so please just leave it at that (in no way am I trying to make fun of an actor and or character!) I am also in no way saying I noticed this stuff first. This is just what I noticed while rewatching these episodes
☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂
| 1x01 | 1x02 | 1x03 | 1x04 | 1x05 |
☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂
☂ Klaus is lucky that he never got the briefcase shot up
☂ *Hears Klaus flush the toilet and talk* Luther: Oh good, you’re up
☂ Also Luther gave Klaus about two seconds to get up before hounding him again on getting downstairs
☂ Sounds like Tom’s accent slipped a little bit when he said “three days”
☂ Yeah they needed to have a family meeting right away and yet they took the time to go get coffee or at least order it and have it delivered
☂ “Old bastard” and “Our little psycho”
☂ I still don’t get at this point how they wouldn’t believe Five. Look at him, he himself is evidence of his time traveling! He was gone for 45 years, but to them it was only 17. Either way they try to grasp at that, Five would look older if he made it back without messing up. He knew about their father’s death without anyone telling him. I really think all the mistrust comes from the way he looks and the way he acts (they obviously believe he’s just crazy right now)
☂ “What did Five even see?”
☂ Also throw back to 1x02 and I didn’t realized this until now but Five doesn’t have his tie
☂ I know it’s for the title card gag but no one questions the random umbrella falling and popping open
☂ I aspire to be as sarcastic as Hazel
☂ So where exactly is The Commission HQ at? Is it a random location in the real world? If so then wouldn’t normal people happen to stumble upon it? What about their location in space in the comics? Is this in space?? All we know is that it’s in/based off of the year 1955
☂ “I’d like to discuss the logistics of my family’s safety at your earliest convenience.” He cuts right to what’s most important to him. No “How will you stop the apocalypse?” or “What’s my job?” and even “How will my body replacement work?”
☂ Five sounds almost like he’s snapped back into a work mindset. He's suddenly polite and calm with The Handler. Maybe being back in a work environment has made his brain automatically switch into being more professional. However he might also be acting this way to try to throw her off of him being antsy with a plan
☂ Here's some Commission posters shown throughout 1x06
☂ One of us, one of us, one of us-
☂ So basically The Commission makes up history? How do they know what to do and when to make something happen? How do they know it’s right? And what’s The Commission supposed to do when the world ends? Haven't they already fixed stuff in the past or are there just continuous time loops so they need to make sure things happen over and over again? If multiple historical events happen with multiple ways they are made, then which one gets to be in the original timeline??
☂ Dot: No hard feelings! 😁
Ma’am does it look like he’s going to accept that
☂ Wait why are Hazel and Cha-Cha considered the best Temporal Assassins if Five was/is the best?
☂ Well Five has the job of taking down the Hindenburg again but this time from behind a desk. So it’s possible to accomplish “corrections” without actually having assassins do the work. So I guess there’s just so many timelines that they need to fix every single one of them over and over? That sounds like a pain in the ass
☂ TUA portraits!
☂ Y’know I have to agree with Allison on this one. Vanya was left out, however she’s offering to talk with her about the important family matter and Vanya is just denying it. I get she’s upset, but her sister is offering to include her. After Vanya leaves Allison immediately wants to go after her to talk with her. On the other hand Allison should have told her it was an emergency meeting and that they didn’t have the time to ask Vanya to join them
☂ Klaus seems genuinely concerned/upset for Vanya
☂ “We need to figure out what causes the apocalypse. Now, there are loads of possibilities. Nuclear war, asteroids.” Wow spot on, Luther! I can’t believe they actually included foreshadowing for both apocalypses (even though technically it was a chunk of the moon, not an asteroid.) I wonder how much foreshadowing for S3 was put into S2.......
☂ I know it’s big joke about Luther and the moon, but the poor guy just really believes that he was on the moon for an important reason. I mean if I were in his shoes I would believe him too since he had to send a lot of daily updates and samples
☂ “Klaus shockingly has a point. What gives us a win this time?” Shhhh careful Diego, he’s right behind you
☂ Luther is initially the only one onboard with Five on trying to stop the apocalypse. All the others want to go off and do their own thing before the world ends. He tries to get The Umbrella Academy back together to work as a team, but his leadership skills are now severely lacking. Do people *cough cough* mainly people who hate him *cough cough* overlook Luther wanting to also get his family together to stop the apocalypse with his family? Definitely.
☂ “We need the full force of the Academy to stand a chance.” Well golly gee, Allison, what did did Luther just try to do? Was that not him trying to round up all of The Umbrella Academy to stop the apocalypse?
☂ Even though Vanya is ranting, how does she not hear all the creaking metal and shaking cars?
☂ *it’s sunny around them but just the block they’re walking on is rainy until she calms down* “ThAt’S a CoInCiDeNcE.”
☂ The hall floor and Diego’s floor are so dusty
☂ It’s sweet that Diego wants Klaus to get clean in a safe way instead of going cold turkey
☂ Dot, what does “utter silence” mean to you?
☂ “Look at you, deadly little thing.” You’re not wrong, but I don’t think he appreciates being called “thing”
☂ Such a smug smile
☂ So how does Five know all of this about Karl and his son? Does it talk about Otto never washing his hands in the file? That seems like an oddly specific detail but I guess in a case file it gives as many details as possible for the worker to figure out who needs to get assassinated
☂ There are a few cog references all relating to The Commission, so I wonder if this is a nod to “Teenagers” or if they’re just using this terminology
☂ Odd tattoos (sorry for the super blurry pic)
☂ “Can I ask you a cuckoo bananas question?” Hazel is such a fun guy
☂ “Wouldn’t it be nice to kill who you want for a change?” You mean like straight up unhinged murder?
☂ The first time I watched this Hazel and Cha-Cha scene I for sure thought that Hazel was a dead man
☂ This scene just absolutely breaks my heart 💔
☂ *skips 25:24-27:42*
☂ Diego is just so accepting to everything Klaus is saying
☂ I’m sorry, are we suddenly on the set of The Phantom of the Opera?
☂ Diego, I think you’re forgetting a very important person in your life who you let down too who is also dead......(poor Ben can’t believe what his brother just said so he leaves)
☂ “Ordinary is not a word I’d use to describe you.” You’re right, it’s “Extra Ordinary” ha! Sorry Vanya, I had to use that joke
☂ Well at least we know Five ate a sandwich
☂ How exciting! The same division that made a simple candy taste like a candy from the past, but technically it’s not the past since The Commission HQ is based in 1955, is building a human body! That sounds so promising
☂ Sooooo whatever happened to Five’s new body? Is it just sitting in a lab somewhere?? Or is The Handler just lying about it to try to get Five to stay at The Commission?
☂ With the amount of time Five was staring at the suit, it obviously hurt him to know that while he has a new body within reach, he’s not going to get it because he’s about to leave
☂ “Course it’s a bit easier to see from 30,000 feet.” What is she talking about Reconnaissance aircraft? There was no mention of aircraft though so why would she bring that up? My closest guess is that she’s referring to strategic bombing in general, or even the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki
☂ It sounds like Five suddenly has a New York accent when he says “operator” when talking to The Handler about Gloria
☂ Fuck you, Veggie Tales Hargreeves
☂ *skips 36:47-39:48*
☂ Well there’s your hit, Klaus
☂ I love the camera moving with Klaus as he falls and the transition into Vietnam
☂ “Lock and load, Charlie’s away!” Wikipedia’s definition of a “Charlie” is an American military slang referring to the Viiet Cong and North Vietnamese soldiers
☂ Klaus desperately calling out for a medic hurts my heart
☂ Well Luther if you had left then your body wouldn’t be the way it is now
☂ *fucking skips 45:41-50:00*
☂ Ooooh I just really love the entirety of the “Kill Of The Night” scene! If you listen to the lyrics it’s about someone luring someone into a trap to get revenge because they messed with the wrong person (it’s also about love but we’re going to ignore that part). I personally believe it’s aimed at The Commission from Five because the entire time it plays he’s messing things up for them and in some way it’s like a little bit of revenge from him
☂ Why is Gloria confused on who Hazel and Cha-Cha are? Hasn’t she heard their names a ton of times especially since they’re some of the best assassins?
☂ How did Five know which tubes to put the messages in?
☂ You can see at this part how Five immediately gets anxious and antsy. He has a wild look in his eyes. From this point onwards he’s constantly moving, shaking with energy, anticipation, and probably a little bit of anger
☂ “You’re a great disappointment to me.” That’s definitely not the first time he’s heard that
☂ “I don’t belong anywhere thanks to you. You made me a killer!” The first part of that stings. Obviously he feels like he doesn’t belong anywhere, but again I think has to do with the whole “good” and “bad” thing that’s going on. He feels like he doesn’t belong at home because he’s “bad” and has done a lot of dark stuff to get home (it doesn’t help that Luther voiced his acknowledgment of this to Five and now he has that in his mind that Luther knows and somewhat views him as “bad”). Five 100% feels shame in what he has done, and definitely has an issue of coming back to his family with blood on his hands form what he has done. He doesn’t belong in The Commission anymore because he doesn’t want to stay there to do their dirty work to kill or give out kill orders. He’s done with that or at least wants to be done with that life.
The last statement though is Five taking his anger and guilt about being becoming an assassin out on The Handler. She brought him into The Commission, which in turn he became the best assassin across The Space-Time Continuum. It’s not something he’s proud of, and he never enjoyed killing (as much as I want it to be the DNA alteration I just don’t think it exists in the show or at least not yet). However The Handler replies with “You were always a killer. I just pointed you in a direction.” which you can immediately tell has struck a chord with Five. For the briefest second he looks taken aback and his eyes ever so slightly open wider in shock, whether he took that as the truth or just a terrible accusation isn’t exactly clear. Either way he doesn’t like being accused or hearing the truth out loud of always being able to be murderous, a killer.
I believe it’s a mixture of The Handler just trying to get into his head and a combination of the truth. Reginald trained The Umbrella Academy to use brute force, but that doesn’t mean Five had killed anyone but he was definitely violent when it came to stopping bad guys (not to mention in the pilot script he was called a “Ruthless little war machine” after violently attacking and decapitating a bunch of mannequins)
☂ Diego: I’m going to go kill Hazel and Cha-Cha!........Riiiiight after I get done walking with my mom in the park
☂ He’s so happy to see Klaus again
☂ ✨Gremlin✨
☂ Who exactly does Five owe a debt to? Maybe his family after accidentally leaving them and now he wants to save them? Or is it a singular person?
☂ Ouch! Now that’s what I call a problem later!
☂
☂ Five using “Ya’ll” is weird to hear
☂ Five is talking to his siblings like he knows what’s been happening but in reality he’s rarely been at home so how would he know
☂ I love that Five doesn't even answer Diego at the end and instead just stares at his siblings
☂☂☂☂☂☂☂
Feel free to comment or reblog with things you have noticed too!
#surprise here's another long over due post!#tra#the rewatch academy#the umbrella academy#umbrella academy
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Okay So This will Be The kisses ( and Talking about it) With Peeta iOkay I’ll add the Grand total of Kisses here.....
17 Kisses Between Katniss and Peeta in the Hunger Games
9 Kisses Between Katniss and Peeta in Catching Fire
3 In Mockingjay ( and Some)
And I am gonna be super petty Here How many times Did she kiss Gale 5 ONLY 5 TIMES. ( I had to give him credit with the Kissing her on the cheek)
Here is a sort form of the Kisses.
The Hunger Games
1. on the cheek when Katniss said two can play at this game
( These next ones are in the Cave or the Games)
2. The second Kiss was to shut him up from saying I’m gonna die ( Yes the famous one Haymitch is like come on give me something to work with here)
3. The third one was in the cave waking Peeta up
4. The fourth one Katniss said it took a lot Including Kissing to get Peeta to Finish the Broth ( So guessing more then one Kiss in here but I’ll count only one)
5. Peeta Kissed Katniss’s hand. And Katniss is like No more kisses until you eat.
6. So Katniss just Drugged Peeta and Says I wonder how Gale is taking these kisses 2 Seconds later she Kisses Peeta goodbye . In case she doesn’t return.
7. Katniss just wants the Games to End and they Share a kiss.
8 The Kiss This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious. Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold. This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another.
9. This Kiss Happened After the one that made her wanting more.
10. This Kiss counts because yes their lips did touch. But its right after Peeta tells the story of him being in love with her forever since Kindergarten then that Kiss is ruined by the food arriving.
11. Katniss is thinking about Gale and kinda moves around in the freaking Sleeping Bag and wakes up Peeta which resolves in a long kiss.
12. They Kiss again before leaving the cave to go hunt for Food.
13. Katniss is kinda being mean to Peeta kinda throwing the Romance out the window but then Realizes this Kisses Peeta and is like okay we can do what you want
14. So this one Katniss kisses Peeta on the forhead because she is happy that she doesn’t have to face Cato Alone
15. This one is when they Both said listen if we both Can’t win we both will die so Peeta gave Katniss a slow kiss.
16. This Kiss Happened After the games when they reunite again at the rewatch of the games
17. During the Final interveiw they share a kiss.
Catching Fire
1. Their First Kiss is for the Cameras. and Peeta is like I almost thought that kiss was real
2. They kiss again After Peeta says he will give half of his winnings to District 11 fallen tributes
3. They kiss a lot on the victory tour.
4. After Katniss comes Back to her House after being in the woods when they are really forbidden. She comes back to peacekeepers in her house and with no proof she was in the woods shes safe but she is injured. And they Share a kiss in front of Everyone when she is making up this lie.
5.Before the Games Peeta gives Katniss a kiss ( After they spent the night together and says see you soon)
6. After Peeta is rescued by Finnick He gives Katniss a kiss we got allies
7. The Beach scene kiss ( We all know that one)
8. Peeta Kisses Katniss after he said your gonna be a great mother
9. The I’ll see you at midnight kiss. The last sane kiss of Peeta before hes taken in by the freaking Capitol
Mockingjay ( Since Peeta And Katniss are A part for half the book and Peeta is trying to kill Katniss they don’t have as many kisses).
1. This one I had to add becuase well yeah, When shes rubbing her lips on the pearl it’s like a cool kiss from the giver himself
2. This kiss was when Peeta was going mad and then Katniss just kissed him thinking that might work which it did because she didn’t want to loose him again
3. The growing back together kiss ( and some)
A Grand total of 29 Kisses in the books Series by these two
Now Bonus ones
1. Catching Fire After Peeta’s heart was restarted Katniss Kissed him this was not in the books.
so grand total is 30 kisses on all platforms the books and the movies.
So since Below is so Long I was feeling real petty and Decited to add Gales Kisses in here too
1. The surprise Kiss From Gale That snow knew about
2. The Kiss after Gale got whipped and hes Basically sleeping
3. They kiss in Mockingjay when Gale is like you kissed me here I’d have to be dead to forget that
4. This Kiss Peeta is saved yet Hijacked and Basically Katniss has written off and They Kiss and then Gale Ruins it
5. After Leaving the awkward dinner Gale Kisses Katniss on the Cheek
Bonus ones
Catching Fire Movie when they Kiss goodbye when Katniss is going back into the arena,
So their grand total is 6...
In the Hunger Games ( Book)
Chapter 5 But because two can play at this game, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.
Chapter 19,
"Yes. Look, if I don't make it back - " he begins.
"Don't talk like that. I didn't drain all that pus for nothing," I say.
"I know. But just in case I don't - " he tries to continue.
"No, Peeta, I don't even want to discuss it," I say, placing my fingers on his lips to quiet him.
"But I - " he insists.
Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his words. This is probably overdue anyway since he's right, we are supposed to be madly in love. It's the first time I've ever kissed a boy, which should make some sort of impression I guess, but all I can register is how unnaturally hot his lips are from the fever. I break away and pull the edge of the sleeping bag up around him. "You're not going to die. I forbid it. All right?"
"All right," he whispers.
A little Later on Chapter 19
Haymitch couldn't be sending me a clearer message. One kiss equals one pot of broth. I can almost hear his snarl. "You're supposed to be in love, sweetheart. The boy's dying. Give me something I can work with!"
And he's right. If I want to keep Peeta alive, I've got to give the audience something more to care about. Star-crossed lovers desperate to get home together. Two hearts beating as one. Romance.
Never having been in love, this is going to be a real trick. I think of my parents. The way my father never failed to bring her gifts from the woods. The way my mother's face would light up at the sound of his boots at the door. The way she almost stopped living when he died.
"Peeta!" I say, trying for the special tone that my mother used only with my father. He's dozed off again, but I kiss him awake, which seems to startle him. Then he smiles as if he'd be happy to lie there gazing at me forever. He's great at this stuff.
Chapter 20.
Getting the broth into Peeta takes an hour of coaxing, begging, threatening, and yes, kissing, but finally, sip by sip, he empties the pot. I let him drift off to sleep then and attend to my own needs, wolfing down a supper of groosling and roots while I watch the daily report in the sky. No new casualties. Still, Peeta and I have given the audience a fairly interesting day. Hopefully, the Gamemakers will allow us a peaceful night.
Oh, right, the whole romance thing. I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips. I remember my father doing this very thing to my mother and I wonder where Peeta picked it up. Surely not from his father and the witch. ( Okay) Just in case why This part is isn here He Kissed her hand,
“No more kisses for you until you’ve eaten,” I say.
Chapter 21 ( Because I am being petty I added an extra bit)
And Gale. I know him. He won’t be shouting and cheering. But he’ll be watching, every moment, every twist and turn, and willing me to come home. I wonder if he’s hoping that Peeta makes it as well. Gale’s not my boyfriend, but would he be, if I opened that door? He talked about us running away together. Was that just a practical calculation of our chances of survival away from the district? Or something more?
I wonder what he makes of all this kissing.
Through a crack in the rocks, I watch the moon cross the sky. At what I judge to be about three hours before dawn, I begin final preparations. I’m careful to leave Peeta with water and the medical kit right beside him. Nothing else will be of much use if I don’t return, and even these would only prolong his life a short time. After some debate, I strip him of his jacket and zip it on over my own. He doesn’t need it. Not now in the sleeping bag with his fever, and during the day, if I’m not there to remove it, he’ll be roasting in it. My hands are already stiff from cold, so I take Rue’s spare pair of socks, cut holes for my fingers and thumbs, and pull them on. It helps anyway. I fill her small pack with some food, a water bottle, and bandages, tuck the knife in my belt, get my bow and arrows. I’m about to leave when I remember the importance of sustaining the star-crossed lover routine and I lean over and give Peeta a long, lingering kiss. I imagine the teary sighs emanating from the Capitol and pretend to brush away a tear of my own. Then I squeeze through the opening in the rocks out into the night.
Chapter 22
I give him another answer, because it is equally true but can be taken as a brief moment of weakness instead of a terminal one. "I want to go home, Peeta," I say plaintively, like a small child.
"You will. I promise," he says, and bends over to give me a kiss.
Chapter 22 ( The Kiss)
I fumble. I’m not as smooth with words as Peeta. And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. And it’s not about the sponsors. And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.
“If what, Katniss?” he says softly.
I wish I could pull the shutters closed, blocking out this moment from the prying eyes of Panem. Even if it means losing food. Whatever I’m feeling, it’s no one’s business but mine.
“Then I’ll just have to fill in the blanks myself,” he says, and moves in to me.
This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious. Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold. This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another.
But I don’t get it. Well, I do get a second kiss, but it’s just a light one on the tip of my nose because Peeta’s been distracted. “I think your wound is bleeding again. Come on, lie down, it’s bedtime anyway,” he says.
Chapter 22 ( Okay I had too add in this whole freaking part in)
"Peeta," I say lightly. "You said at the interview you'd had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?"
"Oh, let's see. I guess the first day of school. We were five. You had on a red plaid dress and your hair. it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up," Peeta says.
"Your father? Why?" I ask.
"He said, 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,'" Peeta says.
"What? You're making that up!" I exclaim.
"No, true story," Peeta says. "And I said, 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could've had you?' And he said, 'Because when he sings. even the birds stop to listen.'"
"That's true. They do. I mean, they did," I say. I'm stunned and surprisingly moved, thinking of the baker telling this to Peeta. It strikes me that my own reluctance to sing, my own dismissal of music might not really be that I think it's a waste of time. It might be because it reminds me too much of my father.
"So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent," Peeta says.
"Oh, please," I say, laughing.
"No, it happened. And right when your song ended, I knew - just like your mother - I was a goner," Peeta says. "Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you."
"Without success," I add.
"Without success. So, in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck," says Peeta.
For a moment, I'm almost foolishly happy and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we're supposed to be making up this stuff, playing at being in love not actually being in love. But Peeta's story has a ring of truth to it. That part about my father and the birds. And I did sing the first day of school, although I don't remember the song. And that red plaid dress. there was one, a hand-me-down to Prim that got washed to rags after my father's death.
It would explain another thing, too. Why Peeta took a beating to give me the bread on that awful hollow day. So, if those details are true. could it all be true?
"You have a. remarkable memory," I say haltingly.
"I remember everything about you," says Peeta, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention."
"I am now," I say.
"Well, I don't have much competition here," he says.
I want to draw away, to close those shutters again, but I know I can't. It's as if I can hear Haymitch whispering in my ear, "Say it! Say it!"
I swallow hard and get the words out. "You don't have much competition anywhere." And this time, it's me who leans in.
Our lips have just barely touched when the clunk outside makes us jump. My bow comes up, the arrow ready to fly, but there's no other sound. Peeta peers through the rocks and then gives a whoop. Before I can stop him, lie's out in the rain, then handing something in to me. A silver parachute attached to a basket. I rip it open at once and inside there's a feast - fresh rolls, goat cheese, apples, and best of all, a tureen of that incredible lamb stew on wild rice. The very dish I told Caesar Flickerman was the most impressive thing the Capitol had to offer.
Chapter 23
The sun eventually rises, its light slipping through the cracks and illuminating Peeta’s face. Who will he transform into if we make it home? This perplexing, good-natured boy who can spin out lies so convincingly the whole of Panem believes him to be hopelessly in love with me, and I’ll admit it, there are moments when he makes me believe it myself? At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. Anything beyond that though. and I feel Gale’s gray eyes watching me watching Peeta, all the way from District 12.
Discomfort causes me to move. I scoot over and shake Peeta’s shoulder. His eyes open sleepily and when they focus on me, he pulls me down for a long kiss.
“We’re wasting hunting time,” I say when I finally break away.
“I wouldn’t call it wasting,” he says giving a big stretch as he sits up. “So do we hunt on empty stomachs to give us an edge?”
He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him.
“Come on,” I say in exasperation, extricating myself from his grasp but not before he gets in another kiss
Chapter 24
“We’re wasting hunting time,” I say when I finally break away.
“I wouldn’t call it wasting,” he says giving a big stretch as he sits up. “So do we hunt on empty stomachs to give us an edge?”
He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him.
“Come on,” I say in exasperation, extricating myself from his grasp but not before he gets in another kiss
By the time we reach our destination, our feet are dragging and the sun sits low on the horizon. We fill up our water bottles and climb the little slope to our den. It’s not much, but out here in the wilderness, it’s the closest thing we have to a home. It will be warmer than a tree, too, because it provides some shelter from the wind that has begun to blow steadily in from the west. I set a good dinner out, but halfway through Peeta begins to nod off. After days of inactivity, the hunt has taken its toll. I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so grateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought. So glad that I don’t have to face Cato alone.
Chapter 26.
My fingers fumble with the pouch on my belt, freeing it. Peeta sees it and his hand clamps on my wrist. "No, I won't let you."
"Trust me," I whisper. He holds my gaze for a long moment then lets me go. I loosen the top of the pouch and pour a few spoonfuls of berries into his palm. Then I fill my own. "On the count of three?"
Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. "The count of three," he says.
Chapter 27
Blinding lights. The deafening roar rattles the metal under my feet. Then there’s Peeta just a few yards away. He looks so clean and healthy and beautiful, I can hardly recognize him. But his smile is the same whether in mud or in the Capitol and when I see it, I take about three steps and fling myself into his arms. He staggers back, almost losing his balance, and that’s when I realize the slim, metal contraption in his hand is some kind of cane. He rights himself and we just cling to each other while the audience goes insane. He’s kissing me and all the time I’m thinking, Do you know? Do you know how much danger we’re in? After about ten minutes of this, Caesar Flickerman taps on his shoulder to continue the show, and Peeta just pushes him aside without even glancing at him. The audience goes berserk. Whether he knows or not, Peeta is, as usual, playing the crowd exactly right
Finally, Haymitch interrupts us and gives us a good-natured shove toward the victor’s chair. Usually, this is a single, ornate chair from which the winning tribute watches a film of the highlights of the Games, but since there are two of us, the Gamemakers have provided a plush red velvet couch. A small one, my mother would call it a love seat, I think. I sit so close to Peeta that I’m practically on his lap, but one look from Haymitch tells me it isn’t enough. Kicking off my sandals, I tuck my feet to the side and lean my head against Peeta’s shoulder. His arm goes around me automatically, and I feel like I’m back in the cave, curled up against him, trying to keep warm. His shirt is made of the same yellow material as my dress, but Portia’s put him in long black pants. No sandals, either, but a pair of sturdy black boots he keeps solidly planted on the stage. I wish Cinna had given me a similar outfit, I feel so vulnerable in this flimsy dress. But I guess that was the point.
Chapter 27.
Things pick up for me once they’ve announced two tributes from the same district can live and I shout out Peeta’s name and then clap my hands over my mouth. If I’ve seemed indifferent to him earlier, I make up for it now, by finding him, nursing him back to health, going to the feast for the medicine, and being very free with my kisses. Objectively, I can see the mutts and Cato’s death are as gruesome as ever, but again, I feel it happens to people I have never met.
And then comes the moment with the berries. I can hear the audience hushing one another, not wanting to miss anything. A wave of gratitude to the filmmakers sweeps over me when they end not with the announcement of our victory, but with me pounding on the glass door of the hovercraft, screaming Peeta’s name as they try to revive him.
In terms of survival, it’s my best moment all night.
Behind a cameraman, I see Haymitch give a sort of huff with relief and I know I’ve said the right thing. Caesar pulls out a handkerchief and has to take a moment because he’s so moved. I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, “So now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?”
I turn in to him. “Put you somewhere you can’t get hurt.” And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh.
Chapter 27 ( Peeta finds out the truth) ( Okay No Kisses in this part but This part honestly Just says so much)
When the train makes a brief stop for fuel, we’re allowed to go outside for some fresh air. There’s no longer any need to guard us. Peeta and I walk down along the track, hand in hand, and I can’t find anything to say now that we’re alone. He stops to gather a bunch of wildflowers for me. When he presents them, I work hard to look pleased. Because he can’t know that the pink-and-white flowers are the tops of wild onions and only remind me of the hours I’ve spent gathering them with Gale.
Haymitch startles me when he lays a hand on my back. Even now, in the middle of nowhere, he keeps his voice down. “Great job, you two. Just keep it up in the district until the cameras are gone. We should be okay.” I watch him head back to the train, avoiding Peeta’s eyes.
“What’s he mean?” Peeta asks me.
“It’s the Capitol. They didn’t like our stunt with the berries,” I blurt out.
“What? What are you talking about?” he says.
“It seemed too rebellious. So, Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days. So I didn’t make it worse,” I say.
“Coaching you? But not me,” says Peeta.
“He knew you were smart enough to get it right,” I say.
“I didn’t know there was anything to get right,” says Peeta. “So, what you’re saying is, these last few days and then I guess. back in the arena. that was just some strategy you two worked out.”
“No. I mean, I couldn’t even talk to him in the arena, could I?” I stammer.
“But you knew what he wanted you to do, didn’t you?” says Peeta. I bite my lip. “Katniss?” He drops my hand and I take a step, as if to catch my balance.
“It was all for the Games,” Peeta says. “How you acted.”
“Not all of it,” I say, tightly holding onto my flowers.
“Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what’s going to be left when we get home?” he says.
“I don’t know. The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get,” I say. He waits, for further explanation, but none’s forthcoming.
“Well, let me know when you work it out,” he says, and the pain in his voice is palpable.
I know my ears are healed because, even with the rumble of the engine, I can hear every step he takes back to the train. By the time I’ve climbed aboard, Peeta has disappiared into his room for the night. I don’t see him the next morning, either. In fact, the next time he turns up, we’re pulling into District 12. He gives me a nod, his face expressionless.
I want to tell him that he’s not being fair. That we were strangers. That I did what it took to stay alive, to keep us both alive in the arena. That I can’t explain how things are with Gale because I don’t know myself. That it’s no good loving me because I’m never going to get married anyway and he’d just end up hating me later instead of sooner. That if I do have feelings for him, it doesn’t matter because I’ll never be able to afford the kind of love that leads to a family, to children. And how can he? How can he after what we’ve just been through?
I also want to tell him how much I already miss him. But that wouldn’t be fair on my part.
So we just stand there silently, watching our grimy little station rise up around us. Through the window, I can see the platform’s thick with cameras. Everyone will be eagerly watching our homecoming.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Peeta extend his hand. I look at him, unsure. “One more time? For the audience?” he says. His voice isn’t angry. It’s hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me.
I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go.
Catching fire
Chapter 3
My face breaks into a huge smile and I start walking in Peeta’s direction. Then, as if I can’t stand it another second, I start running. He catches me and spins me around and then he slips - he still isn’t entirely in command of his artificial leg - and we fall into the snow, me on top of him, and that’s where we have our first kiss in months. It’s full of fur and snowflakes and lipstick, but underneath all that, I can feel the steadiness that Peeta brings to everything. And I know I’m not alone. As badly as I have hurt him, he won’t expose me in front of the cameras. Won’t condemn me with a halfhearted kiss. He’s still looking out for me. Just as he did in the arena. Somehow the thought makes me want to cry. Instead I pull him to his feet, tuck my glove through the crook of his arm, and merrily pull him on our way.
Chapter 4
Favourite colour
After a while I hear footsteps behind me. It’ll be Haymitch, coming to chew me out. It’s not like I don’t deserve it, but I still don’t want to hear it. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture,” I warn the clump of weeds by my shoes.
“I’ll try to keep it brief.” Peeta takes a seat beside me. “I thought you were Haymitch,” I say.
“No, he’s still working on that muffin.” I watch as Peeta positions his artificial leg. “Bad day, huh?” “It’s nothing,” I say.
He takes a deep breath. “Look, Katniss, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the way I acted on the train. I mean, the last train. The one that brought us home. I knew you had something with Gale. I was jealous of him before I even officially met you. And it wasn’t fair to hold you to anything that happened in the Games. I’m sorry.”
His apology takes me by surprise. It’s true that Peeta froze me out after I confessed that my love for him during the Games was something of an act. But I don’t hold that against him. In the arena, I’d played that romance angle for all it was worth. There had been times when I didn’t honestly know how I felt about him. I still don’t, really.
“I’m sorry, too,” I say. I’m not sure for what exactly. Maybe because there’s a real chance I’m about to destroy him.
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You were just keeping us alive. But I don’t want us to go on like this, ignoring each other in real life and falling into the snow every time there’s a camera around. So I thought if I stopped being so, you know, wounded, we could take a shot at just being friends,” he says.
All my friends are probably going to end up dead, but refusing Peeta wouldn’t keep him safe. “Okay,” I say. His offer does make me feel better. Less duplicitous somehow. It would be nice if he’d come to me with this earlier, before I knew that President Snow had other plans and just being friends was not an option for us anymore. But either way, I’m glad we’re speaking again.
“So what’s wrong?” he asks.
I can’t tell him. I pick at the clump of weeds.
“Let’s start with something more basic. Isn’t it strange that I know you’d risk your life to save mine … but I don’t know what your favorite color is?” he says.
A smile creeps onto my lips. “Green. What’s yours?”
“Orange,” he says.
“Orange? Like Effie’s hair?” I say.
“A bit more muted,” he says. “More like … sunset.”
Sunset. I can see it immediately, the rim of the descending sun, the sky streaked with soft shades of orange. Beautiful. I remember the tiger lily cookie and, now that Peeta is talking to me again, it’s all I can do not to recount the whole story about President Snow. But I know Haymitch wouldn’t want me to. I’d better stick to small talk.
“You know, everyone’s always raving about your paintings. I feel bad I haven’t seen them,” I say.
“Well, I’ve got a whole train car full.” He rises and offers me his hand. “Come on.”
It’s good to feel his fingers entwined with mine again, not for show but in actual friendship. We walk back to the train hand in hand.
Chapter 4
I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch’s voice. “You could do a lot worse.” At this moment, it’s impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift … it is perfect. So when I rise up on tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn’t seem forced at all.
Chapter 5
We descend the steps and are sucked into what becomes an indistinguishable round of dinners, ceremonies, and train rides. Each day it’s the same. Wake up. Get dressed. Ride through cheering crowds. Listen to a speech in our honor. Give a thank-you speech in return, but only the one the Capitol gave us, never any personal additions now. Sometimes a brief tour: a glimpse of the sea in one district, towering forests in another, ugly factories, fields of wheat, stinking refineries. Dress in evening clothes. Attend dinner. Train.
During ceremonies, we are solemn and respectful but always linked together, by our hands, our arms. At dinners, we are borderline delirious in our love for each other. We kiss, we dance, we get caught trying to sneak away to be alone. On the train, we are quietly miserable as we try to assess what effect we might be having.
Cinna begins to take in my clothes around the waist. The prep team frets over the circles under my eyes. Effie starts giving me pills to sleep, but they don’t work. Not well enough. I drift off only to be roused by nightmares that have increased in number and intensity. Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other’s arms, guarding against dangers that can descend at any moment. Nothing else happens, but our arrangement quickly becomes a subject of gossip on the train.
Chapter 6 On the way home
When I open my eyes, it’s early afternoon. My head rests on Peeta’s arm. I don’t remember him coming in last night. I turn, being careful not to disturb him, but he’s already awake.
“No nightmares,” he says.
“What?” I ask.
“You didn’t have any nightmares last night,” he says.
He’s right. For the first time in ages I’ve slept through the night. “I had a dream, though,” I say, thinking back. “I was following a mockingjay through the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice.”
“Where did she take you?” he says, brushing my hair off my forehead.
“I don’t know. We never arrived,” I say. “But I felt happy.”
“Well, you slept like you were happy,” he says.
“Peeta, how come I never know when you’re having a nightmare?” I say.
“I don’t know. I don’t think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror,” he says.
“You should wake me,” I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down.
“It’s not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you,” he says. “I’m okay once I realize you’re here.”
Ugh. Peeta makes comments like this in such an offhand way, and it’s like being hit in the gut. He’s only answering my question honestly. He’s not pressing me to reply in kind, to make any declaration of love. But I still feel awful, as if I’ve been using him in some terrible way. Have I? I don’t know. I only know that for the first time, I feel immoral about him being here in my bed. Which is ironic since we’re officially engaged now.
“Be worse when we’re home and I’m sleeping alone again,” he says.
That’s right, we’re almost home.
Chapter 9 I am being petty yes for this Part...
“I’ve heard worse,” she says . “You’ve seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.”
Someone they love. The words numb my tongue as if it’s been packed in snow coat. Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don’t know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But I’m sure he doesn’t remember it. Does he? I hope not. If he does, everything will just get more complicated and I really can’t think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where’s Peeta?” I say.
“He went home when we heard you stirring. Didn’t want to leave his house unattended during the storm,” says my mother.
“Did he get back all right?” I ask. In a blizzard, you can get lost in a matter of yards and wander off course into oblivion.
“Why don’t you give him a call and check?” she says.
Chaper 11 Katniss comes home to a surprise I freaking love this part
By the time I reach my house, my left heel will bear no weight at all. I decide to tell my mother I was trying to mend a leak in the roof of our old house and slid off. As for the missing food, I’ll just be vague about who I handed it out to. I drag myself in the door, all ready to collapse in front of the fire. But instead I get another shock.
Two Peacekeepers, a man and a woman, are standing in the doorway to our kitchen. The woman remains impassive, but I catch the flicker of surprise on the man’s face. I am unanticipated. They know I was in the woods and should be trapped there now.
“Hello,” I say in a neutral voice.
My mother appears behind them, but keeps her distance. “Here she is, just in time for dinner,” she says a little too brightly. I’m very late for dinner.
I consider removing my boots as I normally would but doubt I can manage it without revealing my injuries. Instead I just pull off my wet hood and shake the snow from my hair. “Can I help you with something?” I ask the Peacekeepers.
“Head Peacekeeper Thread sent us with a message for you,” says the woman.
“They’ve been waiting for hours,” my mother adds.
They’ve been waiting for me to fail to return. To confirm I got electrocuted by the fence or trapped in the woods so they could take my family in for questioning.
“Must be an important message,” I say.
“May we ask where you’ve been, Miss Everdeen?” the woman asks.
“Easier to ask where I haven’t been,” I say with a sound of exasperation. I cross into the kitchen, forcing myself to use my foot normally even though every step is excruciating. I pass between the Peacekeepers and make it to the table all right. I fling my bag down and turn to Prim, who’s standing stiffly by the hearth. Haymitch and Peeta are there as well, sitting in a pair of matching rockers, playing a game of chess. Were they here by chance or “invited” by the Peacekeepers? Either way, I’m glad to see them.
“So where haven’t you been?” says Haymitch in a bored voice.
“Well, I haven’t been talking to the Goat Man about getting Prim’s goat pregnant, because someone gave me completely inaccurate information as to where he lives,” I say to Prim emphatically.
“No, I didn’t,” says Prim. “I told you exactly.”
“You said he lives beside the west entrance to the mine,” I say.
“The east entrance,” Prim corrects me.
“You distinctly said the west, because then I said, 'Next to the slag heap?’ and you said, 'Yeah,’” I say.
“The slag heap next to the east entrance,” says Prim patiently.
“No. When did you say that?” I demand. “Last night,” Haymitch chimes in.
“It was definitely the east,” adds Peeta. He looks at Haymitch and they laugh. I glare at Peeta and he tries to look contrite. “I’m sorry, but it’s what I’ve been saying. You don’t listen when people talk to you.”
“Bet people told you he didn’t live there today and you didn’t listen again,” says Haymitch.
“Shut up, Haymitch,” I say, clearly indicating he’s right.
Haymitch and Peeta crack up and Prim allows herself a smile.
“Fine. Somebody else can arrange to get the stupid goat knocked up,” I say, which makes them laugh more. And I think, This is why they’ve made it this far, Haymitch and Peeta. Nothing throws them.
I look at the Peacekeepers. The man’s smiling but the woman is unconvinced. “What’s in the bag?” she asks sharply.
I know she’s hoping for game or wild plants. Something that clearly condemns me. I dump the contents on the table. “See for yourself.”
“Oh, good,” says my mother, examining the cloth. “We’re running low on bandages.”
Peeta comes to the table and opens the candy bag. “Ooh, peppermints,” he says, popping one in his mouth.
“They’re mine.” I take a swipe for the bag. He tosses it to Haymitch, who stuffs a fistful of sweets in his mouth before passing the bag to a giggling Prim. “None of you deserves candy!” I say.
“What, because we’re right?” Peeta wraps his arms around me. I give a small yelp of pain as my tailbone objects. I try to turn it into a sound of indignation, but I can see in his eyes that he knows I’m hurt. “Okay, Prim said west. I distinctly heard west. And we’re all idiots. How’s that?”
“Better,” I say, and accept his kiss. Then I look at the Peacekeepers as if I’m suddenly remembering they’re there. “You have a message for me?”
“From Head Peacekeeper Thread,” says the woman. “He wanted you to know that the fence surrounding District Twelve will now have electricity twenty-four hours a day.”
“Didn’t it already?” I ask, a little too innocently.
“He thought you might be interested in passing this information on to your cousin,” says the woman.
“Thank you. I’ll tell him. I’m sure we’ll all sleep a little more soundly now that security has addressed that lapse.” I’m pushing things, I know it, but the comment gives me a sense of satisfaction.
The woman’s jaw tightens. None of this has gone as planned, but she has no further orders. She gives me a curt nod and leaves, the man trailing in her wake. When my mother has locked the door behind them, I slump against the table.
Chapter 11 They all know Katniss is hurt and Peeta is literally the sweetest human out there
“What is it?” says Peeta, holding me steadily.
“Oh, I banged up my left foot. The heel. And my tail-bone’s had a bad day, too.” He helps me over to one of the rockers and I lower myself onto the padded cushion.
My mother eases off my boots. “What happened?”
“I slipped and fell,” I say. Four pairs of eyes look at me with disbelief. “On some ice.” But we all know the house must be bugged and it’s not safe to talk openly. Not here, not now.
Having stripped off my sock, my mother’s fingers probe the bones in my left heel and I wince. “There might be a break,” she says. She checks the other foot. “This one seems all right.” She judges my tailbone to be badly bruised.
My mother gives me a cup of chamomile tea with a dose of sleep syrup, and my eyelids begin to droop immediately. She wraps my bad foot, and Peeta volunteers to get me to bed. I start out by leaning on his shoulder, but I’m so wobbly he just scoops me up and carries me upstairs. He tucks me in and says good night but I catch his hand and hold him there. A side effect of the sleep syrup is that it makes people less inhibited, like white liquor, and I know I have to control my tongue. But I don’t want him to go. In fact, I want him to climb in with me, to be there when the nightmares hit tonight. For some reason that I can’t quite form, I know I’m not allowed to ask that.
“Don’t go yet. Not until I fall asleep,” I say.
Peeta sits on the side of the bed, warming my hand in both of his. “Almost thought you’d changed your mind today. When you were late for dinner.”
I’m foggy but I can guess what he means. With the fence going on and me showing up late and the Peacekeepers waiting, he thought I’d made a run for it, maybe with Gale.
“No, I’d have told you,” I say. I pull his hand up and lean my cheek against the back of it, taking in the faint scent of cinnamon and dill from the breads he must have baked today. I want to tell him about Twill and Bonnie and the uprising and the fantasy of District 13, but it’s not safe to and I can feel myself slipping away, so I just get out one more sentence. “Stay with me.”
As the tendrils of sleep syrup pull me down, I hear him whisper a word back, but I don’t quite catch it.
I’m further reassured when Peeta casually tells me the power is off in sections of the fence because crews are out securing the base of the chain link to the ground. Thread must believe I somehow got under the thing, even with that deadly current running through it. It’s a break for the district, having the Peacekeepers busy doing something besides abusing people.
Peeta comes by every day to bring me cheese buns and begins to help me work on the family book. It’s an old thing, made of parchment and leather. Some herbalist on my mother’s side of the family started it ages ago. The book’s composed of page after page of ink drawings of plants with descriptions of their medical uses. My father added a section on edible plants that was my guidebook to keeping us alive after his death. For a long time, I’ve wanted to record my own knowledge in it. Things I learned from experience or from Gale, and then the information I picked up when I was training for the Games. I didn’t because I’m no artist and it’s so crucial that the pictures are drawn in exact detail. That’s where Peeta comes in. Some of the plants he knows already, others we have dried samples of, and others I have to describe. He makes sketches on scrap paper until I’m satisfied they’re right, then I let him draw them in the book. After that, I carefully print all I know about the plant.
It’s quiet, absorbing work that helps take my mind off my troubles. I like to watch his hands as he works, making a blank page bloom with strokes of ink, adding touches of color to our previously black and yellowish book. His face takes on a special look when he concentrates. His usual easy expression is replaced by something more intense and removed that suggests an entire world locked away inside him. I’ve seen flashes of this before: in the arena, or when he speaks to a crowd, or that time he shoved the Peacekeepers’ guns away from me in District 11. I don’t know quite what to make of it. I also become a little fixated on his eyelashes, which ordinarily you don’t notice much because they’re so blond. But up close, in the sunlight slanting in from the window, they’re a light golden color and so long I don’t see how they keep from getting all tangled up when he blinks.
One afternoon Peeta stops shading a blossom and looks up so suddenly that I start, as though I were caught spying on him, which in a strange way maybe I was. But he only says, “You know, I think this is the first time we’ve ever done anything normal together.”
“Yeah,” I agree. Our whole relationship has been tainted by the Games. Normal was never a part of it. “Nice for a change.”
Each afternoon he carries me downstairs for a change of scenery and I unnerve everyone by turning on the television. Usually we only watch when it’s mandatory, because the mixture of propaganda and displays of the Capitol’s power - including clips from seventy-four years of Hunger Games - is so odious. But now I’m looking for something special. The mockingjay that Bonnie and Twill are basing all their hopes on. I know it’s probably foolishness, but if it is, I want to rule it out. And erase the idea of a thriving District 13 from my mind for good.
Chapter 12
Staying quietly in bed is harder after that. I want to be doing something, finding out more about District 13 or helping in the cause to bring down the Capitol. Instead I sit around stuffing myself with cheese buns and watching Peeta sketch. Haymitch stops by occasionally to bring me news from town, which is always bad. More people being punished or dropping from starvation.
Chapter 13
“Thanks,” I say. I should go see Peeta now, but I don’t want to. My head’s spinning from the drink, and I’m so wiped out, who knows what he could get me to agree to? No, now I have to go home to face my mother and Prim.
As I stagger up the steps to my house, the front door opens and Gale pulls me into his arms. “I was wrong. We should have gone when you said,” he whispers.
“No,” I say. I’m having trouble focusing, and liquor keeps sloshing out of my bottle and down the back of Gale’s jacket, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“It’s not too late,” he says.
Over his shoulder, I see my mother and Prim clutching each other in the doorway. We run. They die. And now I’ve got Peeta to protect. End of discussion. “Yeah, it is.” My knees give way and he’s holding me up. As the alcohol overcomes my mind, I hear the glass bottle shatter on the floor. This seems appropriate since I have obviously lost my grip on everything.
Chapter 14 ( Okay this hug tho)
So I go to bed and, sure enough, within a few hours I awake from a nightmare where that old woman from District 4 transforms into a large rodent and gnaws on my face. I know I was screaming, but no one comes. Not Peeta, not even one of the Capitol attendants. I pull on a robe to try to calm the gooseflesh crawling over my body. Staying in my compartment is impossible, so I decide to go find someone to make me tea or hot chocolate or anything. Maybe Haymitch is still up. Surely he isn’t asleep.
I order warm milk, the most calming thing I can think of, from an attendant. Hearing voices from the television room, I go in and find Peeta. Beside him on the couch is the box Effie sent of tapes of the old Hunger Games. I recognize the episode in which Brutus became victor.
Peeta rises and flips off the tape when he sees me. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Not for long,” I say. I pull the robe more securely around me as I remember the old woman transforming into the rodent.
“Want to talk about it?” he asks. Sometimes that can help, but I just shake my head, feeling weak that people I haven’t even fought yet already haunt me.
When Peeta holds out his arms, I walk straight into them. It’s the first time since they announced the Quarter Quell that he’s offered me any sort of affection. He’s been more like a very demanding trainer, always pushing, always insisting Haymitch and I run faster, eat more, know our enemy better. Lover? Forget about that. He abandoned any pretense of even being my friend. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck before he can order me to do push-ups or something. Instead he pulls me in close and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I will not be the first to let go.
And why should I? I have said good-bye to Gale. I’ll never see him again, that’s for certain. Nothing I do now can hurt him. He won’t see it or he’ll think I am acting for the cameras. That, at least, is one weight off my shoulders.
The arrival of the Capitol attendant with the warm milk is what breaks us apart. He sets a tray with a steaming ceramic jug and two mugs on a table. “I brought an extra cup,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say.
“And I added a touch of honey to the milk. For sweetness. And just a pinch of spice,” he adds. He looks at us like he wants to say more, then gives his head a slight shake and backs out of the room.
“What’s with him?” I say.
“I think he feels bad for us,” says Peeta.
“Right,” I say, pouring the milk.
“I mean it. I don’t think the people in the Capitol are going to be all that happy about our going back in,” says Peeta. “Or the other victors. They get attached to their champions.”
“I’m guessing they’ll get over it once the blood starts flowing,” I say flatly. Really, if there’s one thing I don’t have time for, it’s worrying about how the Quarter Quell will affect the mood in the Capitol. “So, you’re watching all the tapes again?”
“Okay,” Peeta agrees. He puts in the tape and I curl up next to him on the couch with my milk, which is really delicious with the honey and spices, and lose myself in the Fiftieth Hunger Games. After the anthem, they show President Snow drawing the envelope for the second Quarter Quell. He looks younger but just as repellent. He reads from the square of paper in the same onerous voice he used for ours, informing Panem that in honor of the Quarter Quell, there will be twice the number of tributes. The editors smash cut right into the reapings, where name after name after name is called.
Peeta clicks off the tape and we sit there in silence for a while.
Chapter 17
Peeta walks me down to my room in silence, but before he can say good night, I wrap my arms around him and rest my head against his chest. His hands slide up my back and his cheek leans against my hair. “I’m sorry if I made things worse,” I say.
“No worse than I did. Why did you do it, anyway?” he says.
“I don’t know. To show them that I’m more than just a piece in their Games?” I say.
He laughs a little, no doubt remembering the night before the Games last year. We were on the roof, neither of us able to sleep. Peeta had said something of the sort then, but I hadn’t understood what he meant. Now I do.
“Me, too,” he tells me. “And I’m not saying I’m not going to try. To get you home, I mean. But if I’m perfectly honest about it …”
“If you’re perfectly honest about it, you think President Snow has probably given them direct orders to make sure we die in the arena anyway,” I say.
“It’s crossed my mind,” says Peeta.
It’s crossed my mind, too. Repeatedly. But while I know I’ll never leave that arena alive, I’m still holding on to the hope that Peeta will. After all, he didn’t pull out those berries, I did. No one has ever doubted that Peeta’s defiance was motivated by love. So maybe President Snow will prefer keeping him alive, crushed and heartbroken, as a living warning to others.
“But even if that happens, everyone will know we’ve gone out fighting, right?” Peeta asks.
“Everyone will,” I reply. And for the first time, I distance myself from the personal tragedy that has consumed me since they announced the Quell. I remember the old man they shot in District 11, and Bonnie and Twill, and the rumored uprisings. Yes, everyone in the districts will be watching me to see how I handle this death sentence, this final act of President Snow’s dominance. They will be looking for some sign that their battles have not been in vain. If I can make it clear that I’m still defying the Capitol right up to the end, the Capitol will have killed me … but not my spirit. What better way to give hope to the rebels?
The beauty of this idea is that my decision to keep Peeta alive at the expense of my own life is itself an act of defiance. A refusal to play the Hunger Games by the Capitol’s rules. My private agenda dovetails completely with my public one. And if I really could save Peeta … in terms of a revolution, this would be ideal. Because I will be more valuable dead. They can turn me into some kind of martyr for the cause and paint my face on banners, and it will do more to rally people than anything I could do if I was living. But Peeta would be more valuable alive, and tragic, because he will be able to turn his pain into words that will transform people.
Peeta would lose it if he knew I was thinking any of this, so I only say, “So what should we do with our last few days?”
“I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you,” Peeta replies.
“Come on, then,” I say, pulling him into my room.
It feels like such a luxury, sleeping with Peeta again. I didn’t realize until now how starved I’ve been for human closeness. For the feel of him beside me in the darkness. I wish I hadn’t wasted the last couple of nights shutting him out. I sink down into sleep, enveloped in his warmth, and when I open my eyes again, daylight’s streaming through the windows.
“No nightmares,” he says.
“No nightmares,” I confirm. “You?”
“None. I’d forgotten what a real night’s sleep feels like,” he says.
We lie there for a while, in no rush to begin the day. Tomorrow night will be the televised interview, so today Effie and Haymitch should be coaching us. More high heels and sarcastic comments, I think. But then the redheaded Avox girl comes in with a note from Effie saying that, given our recent tour, both she and Haymitch have agreed we can handle ourselves adequately in public. The coaching sessions have been canceled.
“Really?” says Peeta, taking the note from my hand and examining it. “Do you know what this means? We’ll have the whole day to ourselves.”
“It’s too bad we can’t go somewhere,” I say wistfully.
“Who says we can’t?” he asks.
The roof. We order a bunch of food, grab some blankets, and head up to the roof for a picnic. A daylong picnic in the flower garden that tinkles with wind chimes. We eat. We lie in the sun. I snap off hanging vines and use my newfound knowledge from training to practice knots and weave nets. Peeta sketches me. We make up a game with the force field that surrounds the roof - one of us throws an apple into it and the other person has to catch it.
No one bothers us. By late afternoon, I lie with my head on Peeta’s lap, making a crown of flowers while he fiddles with my hair, claiming he’s practicing his knots. After a while, his hands go still. “What?” I ask.
“I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever,” he says.
Usually this sort of comment, the kind that hints of his undying love for me, makes me feel guilty and awful. But I feel so warm and relaxed and beyond worrying about a future I’ll never have, I just let the word slip out. “Okay.”
I can hear the smile in his voice. “Then you’ll allow it?”
“I’ll allow it,” I say.
His fingers go back to my hair and I doze off, but he rouses me to see the sunset. It’s a spectacular yellow and orange blaze behind the skyline of the Capitol. “I didn’t think you’d want to miss it,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say. Because I can count on my fingers the number of sunsets I have left, and I don’t want to miss any of them.
We don’t go and join the others for dinner, and no one summons us.
“I’m glad. I’m tired of making everyone around me so miserable,” says Peeta. “Everybody crying. Or Haymitch …” He doesn’t need to go on.
We stay on the roof until bedtime and then quietly slip down to my room without encountering anyone.
The next morning, we’re roused by my prep team. The sight of Peeta and me sleeping together is too much for Octavia, because she bursts into tears right away. “You remember what Cinna told us,” Venia says fiercely. Octavia nods and goes out sobbing.
Chapter 18 Peeta’s interview
As I pass Peeta, who’s headed for his interview, he doesn’t meet my eyes. I take my seat carefully, but aside from the puffs of smoke here and there, I seem unharmed, so I turn my attention to him.
Caesar and Peeta have been a natural team since they first appeared together a year ago. Their easy give-and-take, comic timing, and ability to segue into heart-wrenching moments, like Peeta’s confession of love for me, have made them a huge success with the audience. They effortlessly open with a few jokes about fires and feathers and overcooking poultry. But anyone can see that Peeta is preoccupied, so Caesar directs the conversation right into the subject that’s on everyone’s minds.
“So, Peeta, what was it like when, after all you’ve been through, you found out about the Quell?” asks Caesar.
“I was in shock. I mean, one minute I’m seeing Katniss looking so beautiful in all these wedding gowns, and the next …” Peeta trails off.
“You realized there was never going to be a wedding?” asks Caesar gently.
Peeta pauses for a long moment, as if deciding something. He looks out at the spellbound audience, then at tin floor, then finally up at Caesar. “Caesar, do you think all our friends here can keep a secret?”
An uncomfortable laugh emanates from the audience. What can he mean? Keep a secret from who? Our whole world is watching.
“I feel quite certain of it,” says Caesar.
“We’re already married,” says Peeta quietly. The crowd reacts in astonishment, and I have to bury my face in the folds of my skirt so they can’t see my confusion. Where on earth is he going with this?
“But … how can that be?” asks Caesar.
“Oh, it’s not an official marriage. We didn’t go to the Justice Building or anything. But we have this marriage ritual in District Twelve. I don’t know what it’s like in the other districts. But there’s this thing we do,” says Peeta, and he briefly describes the toasting.
“Were your families there?” asks Caesar.
“No, we didn’t tell anyone. Not even Haymitch. And Katniss’s mother would never have approved. But you see, we knew if we were married in the Capitol, there wouldn’t be a toasting. And neither of us really wanted to wait any longer. So one day, we just did it,” Peeta says. “And to us, we’re more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us.”
“So this was before the Quell?” says Caesar.
“Of course before the Quell. I’m sure we’d never have done it after we knew,” says Peeta, starting to get upset. “But who could’ve seen it coming? No one. We went through the Games, we were victors, everyone seemed so thrilled to see us together, and then out of nowhere - I mean, how could we anticipate a thing like that?”
“You couldn’t, Peeta.” Caesar puts an arm around his shoulders. “As you say, no one could’ve. But I have to confess, I’m glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together.”
Enormous applause. As if encouraged, I look up from my feathers and let the audience see my tragic smile of thanks. The residual smoke from the feathers has made my eyes teary, which adds a very nice touch.
“I’m not glad,” says Peeta. “I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially.”
This takes even Caesar aback. “Surely even a brief time is better than no time?”
“Maybe I’d think that, too, Caesar,” says Peeta bitterly, “if it weren’t for the baby.”
There. He’s done it again. Dropped a bomb that wipes out the efforts of every tribute who came before him. Well, maybe not. Maybe this year he has only lit the fuse on a bomb that the victors themselves have been building. Hoping someone would be able to detonate it. Perhaps thinking it would be me in my bridal gown. Not knowing how much I rely on Cinna’s talents, whereas Peeta needs nothing more than his wits.
As the bomb explodes, it sends accusations of injustice and barbarism and cruelty flying out in every direction. Even the most Capitol-loving, Games-hungry, bloodthirsty person out there can’t ignore, at least for a moment, how horrific the whole thing is.
I am pregnant.
The audience can’t absorb the news right away. It has to strike them and sink in and be confirmed by other voices before they begin to sound like a herd of wounded animals, moaning, shrieking, calling for help. And me? I know my face is projected in a tight close-up on the screen, but I don’t make any effort to hide it. Because for a moment, even I am working through what Peeta has said. Isn’t it the thing I dreaded most about the wedding, about the future - the loss of my children to the Games? And it could be true now, couldn’t it? If I hadn’t spent my life building up layers of defenses until I recoil at even the suggestion of marriage or a family?
Caesar can’t rein in the crowd again, not even when the buzzer sounds. Peeta nods his good-bye and comes back to his seat without any more conversation. I can see Caesar’s lips moving, but the place is in total chaos and I can’t hear a word. Only the blast of the anthem, cranked up so loud I can feel it vibrating through my bones, lets us know where we stand in the program. I automatically rise and, as I do, I sense Peeta reaching out for me. Tears run down his face as I take his hand. How real are the tears? Is this an acknowledgment that he has been stalked by the same fears that I have? That every victor has? Every parent in every district in Panem?
The moment we step off the elevator, Peeta grips my shoulders. “There isn’t much time, so tell me. Is there anything I have to apologize for?”
“Nothing,” I say. It was a big leap to take without my okay, but I’m just as glad I didn’t know, didn’t have time to second-guess him, to let any guilt over Gale detract from how I really feel about what Peeta did. Which is empowered.
We walk down the hallway. Peeta wants to stop by his room to shower off the makeup and meet me in a few minutes, but I won’t let him. I’m certain that if a door shuts between us, it will lock and I’ll have to spend the night without him. Besides, I have a shower in my room. I refuse to let go of his hand.
Do we sleep? I don’t know. We spend the night holding each other, in some halfway land between dreams and waking. Not talking. Both afraid to disturb the other in the hope that we’ll be able to store up a few precious minutes of rest.
Cinna and Portia arrive with the dawn, and I know Peeta will have to go. Tributes enter the arena alone. He gives me a light kiss. “See you soon,” he says.
See you soon
Chapter 19
Finnick has reached Peeta now and is towing him back, one arm across his chest while the other propels them through the water with easy strokes. Peeta rides along without resisting. I don’t know what Finnick said or did that convinced him to put his life in his hands - showed him the bangle, maybe. Or just the sight of me waiting might have been enough. When they reach the sand, I help haul Peeta up onto dry land.
“Hello, again,” he says, and gives me a kiss. “We’ve got allies.”
“Yes. Just as Haymitch intended,” I answer. “Remind me, did we make deals with anyone else?” Peeta asks.
“Only Mags, I think,” I say. I nod toward the old woman doggedly making her way toward us.
“Well, I can’t leave Mags behind,” says Finnick. “She’s one of the few people who actually likes me.”
Chapter 19/20 Cpr is a kind of kissing
I rush over to where he lies, motionless in a web of vines. “Peeta?” There’s a faint smell of singed hair. I call his name again, giving him a little shake, but he’s unresponsive. My fingers fumble across his lips, where there’s no warm breath although moments ago he was panting. I press my ear against his chest, to the spot where I always rest my head, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart.
Instead, I find silence.
“Peeta!” I scream. I shake him harder, even resort to slapping his face, but it’s no use. His heart has failed. I am slapping emptiness. “Peeta!”
Finnick props Mags against a tree and pushes me out of the way. “Let me.” His fingers touch points at Peeta’s neck, run over the bones in his ribs and spine. Then he pinches Peeta’s nostrils shut.
“No!” I yell, hurling myself at Finnick, for surely he intends to make certain that Peeta’s dead, to keep any hope of life from returning to him. Finnick’s hand comes up and hits me so hard, so squarely in the chest that I go flying back into a nearby tree trunk. I’m stunned for a moment, by the pain, by trying to regain my wind, as I see Finnick close off Peeta’s nose again. From where I sit, I pull an arrow, whip the notch into place, and am about to let it fly when I’m stopped by the sight of Finnick kissing Peeta. And it’s so bizarre, even for Finnick, that I stay my hand. No, he’s not kissing him. He’s got Peeta’s nose blocked off but his mouth tilted open, and he’s blowing air into his lungs. I can see this, I can actually see Peeta’s chest rising and falling. Then Finnick unzips the top of Peeta’s jumpsuit and begins to pump the spot over his heart with the heels of his hands. Now that I’ve gotten through my shock, I understand what he’s trying to do.
Once in a blue moon, I’ve seen my mother try something similar, but not often. If your heart fails in District 12, it’s unlikely your family could get you to my mother in time, anyway. So her usual patients are burned or wounded or ill. Or starving, of course.
But Finnick’s world is different. Whatever he’s doing, he’s done it before. There’s a very set rhythm and method. And I find the arrow tip sinking to the ground as I lean in to watch, desperately, for some sign of success. Agonizing minutes drag past as my hopes diminish. Around the time that I’m deciding it’s too late, that Peeta’s dead, moved on, unreachable forever, he gives a small cough and Finnick sits back.
I leave my weapons in the dirt as I fling myself at him. “Peeta?” I say softly. I brush the damp blond strands of hair back from his forehead, find the pulse drumming against my fingers at his neck.
His lashes flutter open and his eyes meet mine. “Careful,” he says weakly. “There’s a force field up ahead.”
I laugh, but there are tears running down my cheeks.
“Must be a lot stronger than the one on the Training Center roof,” he says. “I’m all right, though. Just a little shaken.”
“You were dead! Your heart stopped!” I burst out, before really considering if this is a good idea. I clap my hand over my mouth because I’m starting to make those awful choking sounds that happen when I sob.
“Well, it seems to be working now,” he says. “It’s all right, Katniss.” I nod my head but the sounds aren’t stopping.
“Katniss?” Now Peeta’s worried about me, which adds to the insanity of it all.
“It’s okay. It’s just her hormones,” says Finnick. “From the baby.” I look up and see him, sitting back on his knees but still panting a bit from the climb and the heat and the effort of bringing Peeta back from the dead.
“No. It’s not - ” I get out, but I’m cut off by an even more hysterical round of sobbing that seems only to confirm what Finnick said about the baby. He meets my eyes and I glare at him through my tears. It’s stupid, I know, that his efforts make me so vexed. All I wanted was to keep Peeta alive, and I couldn’t and Finnick could, and I should be nothing but grateful. And I am. But I am also furious because it means that I will never stop owing Finnick Odair. Ever. So how can I kill him in his sleep?
I expect to see a smug or sarcastic expression on his face, but his look is strangely quizzical. He glances between Peeta and me, as if trying to figure something out, then gives his head a slight shake as if to clear it. “How are you?” he asks Peeta. “Do you think you can move on?”
I notice a gleam of gold on Peeta’s chest. I reach out and retrieve the disk that hangs from a chain around his neck. My mockingjay has been engraved on it. “Is this your token?” I ask.
“Yes. Do you mind that I used your mockingjay? I wanted us to match,” he says.
“No, of course I don’t mind.” I force a smile. Peeta showing up in the arena wearing a mockingjay is both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it should give a boost to the rebels in the district. On the other, it’s hard to imagine President Snow will overlook it, and that makes the job of keeping Peeta alive harder.
Chapter 24
know it’s stopped when I feel Peeta’s hands on me, feel myself lifted from the ground and out of the jungle. But I stay eyes squeezed shut, hands over my ears, muscles too rigid to release. Peeta holds me on his lap, speaking soothing words, rocking me gently. It takes a long time before I begin to relax the iron grip on my body. And when I do, the trembling begins.
"It’s all right, Katniss,” he whispers.
“You didn’t hear them,” I answer.
“I heard Prim. Right in the beginning. But it wasn’t her,” he says. “It was a jabberjay.”
“It was her. Somewhere. The jabberjay just recorded it,” I say.
“No, that’s what they want you to think. The same way I wondered if Glimmer’s eyes were in that mutt last year. But those weren’t Glimmer’s eyes. And that wasn’t Prim’s voice. Or if it was, they took it from an interview or something and distorted the sound. Made it say whatever she was saying,” he says.
“No, they were torturing her,” I answer. “She’s probably dead.”
“Katniss, Prim isn’t dead. How could they kill Prim? We’re almost down to the final eight of us. And what happens then?” Peeta says.
“Seven more of us die,” I say hopelessly.
“No, back home. What happens when they reach the final eight tributes in the Games?” He lifts my chin so I have to look at him. Forces me to make eye contact. “What happens? At the final eight?”
I know he’s trying to help me, so I make myself think. “At the final eight?” I repeat. “They interview your family and friends back home.”
“That’s right,” says Peeta. “They interview your family and friends. And can they do that if they’ve killed them all?”
“No?” I ask, still unsure.
“No. That’s how we know Prim’s alive. She’ll be the first one they interview, won’t she?” he asks.
I want to believe him. Badly. It’s just … those voices …
“First Prim. Then your mother. Your cousin, Gale. Madge,” he continues. “It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we’re the only ones who can be hurt by it. We’re the ones in the Games. Not them.”
“You really believe that?” I say.
“I really do,” says Peeta. I waver, thinking of how Peeta can make anyone believe anything. I look over at Finnick for confirmation, see he’s fixated on Peeta, his words.
“Do you believe it, Finnick?” I ask.
“It could be true. I don’t know,” he says. “Could they do that, Beetee? Take someone’s regular voice and make it …”
“Oh, yes. It’s not even that difficult, Finnick. Our children learn a similar technique in school,” says Beetee.
“Of course Peeta’s right. The whole country adores Katniss’s little sister. If they really killed her like this, they’d probably have an uprising on their hands,” says Johanna flatly. “Don’t want that, do they?” She throws back her head and shouts, “Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn’t want anything like that!”
THE BEACH SCENE Chapter 24 if your wondering
Peeta and I sit on the damp sand, facing away from each other, my right shoulder and hip pressed against his. I watch the water as he watches the jungle, which is better for me. I’m still haunted by the voices of the jabberjays, which unfortunately the insects can’t drown out. After a while I rest my head against his shoulder. Feel his hand caress my hair.
“Katniss,” he says softly, “it’s no use pretending we don’t know what the other one is trying to do.” No, I guess there isn’t, but it’s no fun discussing it, either. Well, not for us, anyway. The Capitol viewers will be glued to their sets so they don’t miss one wretched word.
“I don’t know what kind of deal you think you’ve made with Haymitch, but you should know he made me promises as well.” Of course, I know this, too. He told Peeta they could keep me alive so that he wouldn’t be suspicious. “So I think we can assume he was lying to one of us.”
This gets my attention. A double deal. A double promise. With only Haymitch knowing which one is real. I raise my head, meet Peeta’s eyes. “Why are you saying this now?”
“Because I don’t want you forgetting how different our circumstances are. If you die, and I live, there’s no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You’re my whole life,” he says. “I would never be happy again.” I start to object but he puts a finger to my lips. “It’s different for you. I’m not saying it wouldn’t be hard. But there are other people who’d make your life worth living.”
Peeta pulls the chain with the gold disk from around his neck. He holds it in the moonlight so I can clearly see the mockingjay. Then his thumb slides along a catch I didn’t notice before and the disk pops open. It’s not solid, as I had thought, but a locket. And within the locket are photos. On the right side, my mother and Prim, laughing. And on the left, Gale. Actually smiling.
There is nothing in the world that could break me faster at this moment than these three faces. After what I heard this afternoon … it is the perfect weapon.
“Your family needs you, Katniss,” Peeta says.
My family. My mother. My sister. And my pretend cousin Gale. But Peeta’s intention is clear. That Gale really is my family, or will be one day, if I live. That I’ll marry him. So Peeta’s giving me his life and Gale at the same time. To let me know I shouldn’t ever have doubts about it.
Everything. That’s what Peeta wants me to take from him.
I wait for him to mention the baby, to play to the cameras, but he doesn’t. And that’s how I know that none of this is part of the Games. That he is telling me the truth about what he feels.
“No one really needs me,” he says, and there’s no self-pity in his voice. It’s true his family doesn’t need him. They will mourn him, as will a handful of friends. But they will get on. Even Haymitch, with the help of a lot of white liquor, will get on. I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me.
“I do,” I say. “I need you.” He looks upset, takes a deep breath as if to begin a long argument, and that’s no good, no good at all, because he’ll start going on about Prim and my mother and everything and I’ll just get confused. So before he can talk, I stop his lips with a kiss.
I feel that thing again. The thing I only felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down.
This time, there is nothing but us to interrupt us. And after a few attempts, Peeta gives up on talking. The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs, to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind.
“I can’t sleep anymore,” he says. “One of you should rest.” Only then does he seem to notice our expressions, the way we’re wrapped around each other. “Or both of you. I can watch alone.”
Peeta won’t let him, though. “It’s too dangerous,” he says. “I’m not tired. You lie down, Katniss.” I don’t object because I do need to sleep if I’m to be of any use keeping him alive. I let him lead me over to where the others are. He puts the chain with the locket around my neck, then rests his hand over the spot where our baby would be. “You’re going to make a great mother, you know,” he says. He kisses me one last time and goes back to Finnick.
His reference to the baby signals that our time-out from the Games is over. That he knows the audience will be wondering why he hasn’t used the most persuasive argument in his arsenal. That sponsors must be manipulated.
But as I stretch out on the sand I wonder, could it be more? Like a reminder to me that I could still one day have kids with Gale? Well, if that was it, it was a mistake. Because for one thing, that’s never been part of my plan.
And for another, if only one of us can be a parent, anyone can see it should be Peeta.
As I drift off, I try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Capitol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta’s child could be safe
Chapter 25
Peeta rinses the pearl off in the water and hands it to me. “For you.” I hold it out on my palm and examine its iridescent surface in the sunlight. Yes, I will keep it. For the few remaining hours of my life I will keep it close. This last gift from Peeta. The only one I can really accept. Perhaps it will give me strength in the final moments.
“Thanks,” I say, closing my fist around it. I look coolly into the blue eyes of the person who is now my greatest opponent, the person who would keep me alive at his own expense. And I promise myself I will defeat his plan.
The laughter drains from those eyes, and they are staring so intensely into mine, it’s like they can read my thoughts. “The locket didn’t work, did it?” Peeta says, even though Finnick is right there. Even though everyone can hear him. “Katniss?”
“It worked,” I say.
“But not the way I wanted it to,” he says, averting his glance. After that he will look at nothing but oysters.
I have the pearl, though, secured in a parachute with the spile and the medicine at my waist. I hope it makes it back to District 12.
Surely my mother and Prim will know to return it to Peeta before they bury my body.
Chapter 26
I don’t like the plan any more than Peeta does. How can I protect him at a distance? But Beetee’s right. With his leg, Peeta is too slow to make it down the slope in time. Johanna and I are the fastest and most sure-footed on the jungle floor. I can’t think of any alternative. And if I trust anyone here besides Peeta, it’s Beetee.
“It’s okay,” I tell Peeta. “We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up.”
“Not into the lightning zone,” Beetee reminds me. “Head for the tree in the one-to-two-o'clock sector. If you find you’re running out of time, move over one more. Don’t even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage.”
I take Peeta’s face in my hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you at midnight.” I give him a kiss and, before he can object any further, I let go and turn to Johanna. “Ready?”
Mockingjay .
Chapter 3
I feel around for the parachute and slide my fingers inside until they close around the pearl. I sit back on my bed cross-legged and find myself rubbing the smooth iridescent surface of the pearl back and forth against my lips. For some reason, it’s soothing. A cool kiss from the giver himself.
skim my list. “Gale. I’ll need him with me to do this.”
“With you how? Off camera? By your side at all times? Do you want him presented as your new lover?” Coin asks.
She hasn’t said this with any particular malice - quite the contrary, her words are very matter-of-fact.
But my mouth still drops open in shock. “What?”
“I think we should continue the current romance. A quick defection from Peeta could cause the audience to lose sympathy for her,” says Plutarch. “Especially since they think she’s pregnant with his child.”
“Agreed. So, on-screen, Gale can simply be portrayed as a fellow rebel. Is that all right?” says Coin. I just stare at her. She repeats herself impatiently. “For Gale. Will that be sufficient?”
“We can always work him in as your cousin,” says Fulvia.
“We’re not cousins,” Gale and I say together.
“Right, but we should probably keep that up for appearances’ sake on camera,” says Plutarch. “Off camera, he’s all yours. Anything else?”
I’m rattled by the turn in the conversation. The implications that I could so readily dispose of Peeta, that I’m in love with Gale, that the whole thing has been an act. My cheeks begin to burn. The very notion that I’m devoting any thought to who I want presented as my lover, given our current circumstances, is demeaning. I let my anger propel me into my greatest demand. “When the war is over, if we’ve won, Peeta will be pardoned.”
Dead silence. I feel Gale’s body tense. I guess I should have told him before, but I wasn’t sure how he’d respond. Not when it involved Peeta.
“No form of punishment will be inflicted,” I continue. A new thought occurs to me. “The same goes for the other captured tributes, Johanna and Enobaria.” Frankly, I don’t care about Enobaria, the vicious District 2 tribute. In fact, I dislike her, but it seems wrong to leave her out.
“No,” says Coin flatly.
“Yes,” I shoot back. “It’s not their fault you abandoned them in the arena. Who knows what the Capitol’s doing to them?”
“They’ll be tried with other war criminals and treated as the tribunal sees fit,” she says.
“They’ll be granted immunity!” I feel myself rising from my chair, my voice full and resonant. “You will personally pledge this in front of the entire population of District Thirteen and the remainder of Twelve. Soon. Today. It will be recorded for future generations. You will hold yourself and your government responsible for their safety, or you’ll find yourself another Mockingjay!”
My words hang in the air for a long moment.
Chapter 16
“Always.”
In the twilight of morphling, Peeta whispers the word and I go searching for him. It’s a gauzy, violet-tinted world, with no hard edges, and many places to hide. I push through cloud banks, follow faint tracks, catch the scent of cinnamon, of dill. Once I feel his hand on my cheek and try to trap it, but it dissolves like mist through my fingers.
I wish I could meet with Peeta privately. But the audience of doctors has assembled behind the one-way glass, clipboards ready, pens poised. When Haymitch gives me the okay in my earpiece, I slowly open the door.
Those blue eyes lock on me instantly. He’s got three restraints on each arm, and a tube that can dispense a knockout drug just in case he loses control. He doesn’t fight to free himself, though, only observes me with the wary look of someone who still hasn’t ruled out that he’s in the presence of a mutt. I walk over until I’m standing about a yard from the bed. There’s nothing to do with my hands, so I cross my arms protectively over my ribs before I speak. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he responds. It’s like his voice, almost his voice, except there’s something new in it. An edge of suspicion and reproach.
“Haymitch said you wanted to talk to me,” I say.
“Look at you, for starters.” It’s like he’s waiting for me to transform into a hybrid drooling wolf right before his eyes. He stares so long I find myself casting furtive glances at the one-way glass, hoping for some direction from Haymitch, but my earpiece stays silent. “You’re not very big, are you? Or particularly pretty?”
I know he’s been through hell and back, and yet somehow the observation rubs me the wrong way. “Well, you’ve looked better.”
Haymitch’s advice to back off gets muffled by Peeta’s laughter. “And not even remotely nice. To say that to me after all I’ve been through.”
“Yeah. We’ve all been through a lot. And you’re the one who was known for being nice. Not me.” I’m doing everything wrong. I don’t know why I feel so defensive. He’s been tortured! He’s been hijacked! What’s wrong with me? Suddenly, I think I might start screaming at him - I’m not even sure about what - so I decide to get out of there. “Look, I don’t feel so well. Maybe I’ll drop by tomorrow.”
I’ve just reached the door when his voice stops me. “Katniss. I remember about the bread.”
The bread. Our one moment of real connection before the Hunger Games.
“They showed you the tape of me talking about it,” I say.
“No. Is there a tape of you talking about it? Why didn’t the Capitol use it against me?” he asks.
“I made it the day you were rescued,” I answer. The pain in my chest wraps around my ribs like a vise. The dancing was a mistake. “So what do you remember?”
“You. In the rain,” he says softly. “Digging in our trash bins. Burning the bread. My mother hitting me. Taking the bread out for the pig but then giving it to you instead.”
“That’s it. That’s what happened,” I say. “The next day, after school, I wanted to thank you. But I didn’t know how.”
“We were outside at the end of the day. I tried to catch your eye. You looked away. And then…for some reason, I think you picked a dandelion.” I nod. He does remember. I have never spoken about that moment aloud. “I must have loved you a lot.”
“You did.” My voice catches and I pretend to cough.
“And did you love me?” he asks.
I keep my eyes on the tiled floor. “Everyone says I did. Everyone says that’s why Snow had you tortured. To break me.”
“That’s not an answer,” he tells me. “I don’t know what to think when they show me some of the tapes. In that first arena, it looked like you tried to kill me with those tracker jackers.”
“I was trying to kill all of you,” I say. “You had me treed.”
“Later, there’s a lot of kissing. Didn’t seem very genuine on your part. Did you like kissing me?” he asks.
“Sometimes,” I admit. “You know people are watching us now?”
“I know. What about Gale?” he continues.
My anger’s returning. I don’t care about his recovery - this isn’t the business of the people behind the glass. “He’s not a bad kisser either,” I say shortly.
“And it was okay with both of us? You kissing the other?” he asks.
“No. It wasn’t okay with either of you. But I wasn’t asking your permission,” I tell him.
Peeta laughs again, coldly, dismissively. “Well, you’re a piece of work, aren’t you?”
Haymitch doesn’t protest when I walk out. Down the hall. Through the beehive of compartments. Find a warm pipe to hide behind in a laundry room. It takes a long time before I get to the bottom of why I’m so upset. When I do, it’s almost too mortifying to admit. All those months of taking it for granted that Peeta thought I was wonderful are over. Finally, he can see me for who I really am. Violent. Distrustful. Manipulative. Deadly.
And I hate him for it.
Chapter 18
I consider saying a final good-bye to Peeta, decide it would only be bad for both of us. But I do slip the pearl into the pocket of my uniform. A token of the boy with the bread.
Chapter 19
After about an hour, Peeta speaks up. “These last couple of years must have been exhausting for you. Trying to decide whether to kill me or not. Back and forth. Back and forth.”
That seems grossly unfair, and my first impulse is to say something cutting. But I revisit my conversation with Haymitch and try to take the first tentative step in Peeta’s direction. “I never wanted to kill you. Except when I thought you were helping the Careers kill me. After that, I always thought of you as…an ally.” That’s a good safe word. Empty of any emotional obligation, but nonthreatening.
“Ally.” Peeta says the word slowly, tasting it. “Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancee. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I’ll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out.” He weaves the rope in and out of his fingers. “The problem is, I can’t tell what’s real anymore, and what’s made up.”
The cessation of rhythmic breathing suggests that either people have woken or have never really been asleep at all. I suspect the latter.
At a few minutes before four, Peeta turns to me again. “Your favorite color…it’s green?”
“That’s right.” Then I think of something to add. “And yours is orange.”
“Orange?” He seems unconvinced.
“Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset,” I say. “At least, that’s what you told me once.”
“Oh.” He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. “Thank you.”
But more words tumble out. “You’re a painter. You’re a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces.”
Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.
Chapter 21
Peeta buries his face in his hands for a few moments, then rises to join us.
“Should we free his hands?” asks Leeg 1.
“No!” Peeta growls at her, drawing his cuffs in close to his body.
“No,” I echo. “But I want the key.” Jackson passes it over without a word. I slip it into my pants pocket, where it clicks against the pearl.
In the fluorescent light, the circles under his eyes look like bruises. “There’s still time. You should sleep.” Unresisting, he lies back down, but just stares at the needle on one of the dials as it twitches from side to side. Slowly, as I would with a wounded animal, my hand stretches out and brushes a wave of hair from his forehead. He freezes at my touch, but doesn’t recoil. So I continue to gently smooth back his hair. It’s the first time I have voluntarily touched him since the last arena.
“You’re still trying to protect me. Real or not real,” he whispers.
“Real,” I answer. It seems to require more explanation. “Because that’s what you and I do. Protect each other.” After a minute or so, he drifts off to sleep.
Chapter 22
“Leave me,” he whispers. “I can’t hang on.”
“Yes. You can!” I tell him.
Peeta shakes his head. “I’m losing it. I’ll go mad. Like them.”
Like the mutts. Like a rabid beast bent on ripping my throat out. And here, finally here in this place, in these circumstances, I will really have to kill him. And Snow will win. Hot, bitter hatred courses through me. Snow has won too much already today.
It’s a long shot, it’s suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. “Don’t let him take you from me.”
Peeta’s panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. “No. I don’t want to…”
I clench his hands to the point of pain. “Stay with me.”
His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. “Always,” he murmurs
Chapter 23
I think it’s time I give myself up.
When everyone finally awakens, I confess. How I lied about the mission, how I jeopardized everyone in pursuit of revenge. There’s a long silence after I finish. Then Gale says, “Katniss, we all knew you were lying about Coin sending you to assassinate Snow.”
“You knew, maybe. The soldiers from Thirteen didn’t,” I reply.
“Do you really think Jackson believed you had orders from Coin?” Cressida asks. “Of course she didn’t. But she trusted Boggs, and he’d clearly wanted you to go on.”
“I never even told Boggs what I planned to do,” I say.
“You told everyone in Command!” Gale says. “It was one of your conditions for being the Mockingjay. 'I kill Snow.’”
Those seem like two disconnected things. Negotiating with Coin for the privilege of executing Snow after the war and this unauthorized flight through the Capitol. “But not like this,” I say. “It’s been a complete disaster.”
“I think it would be considered a highly successful mission,” says Gale. “We’ve infiltrated the enemy camp, showing that the Capitol’s defenses can be breached. We’ve managed to get footage of ourselves all over the Capitol’s news. We’ve thrown the whole city into chaos trying to find us.”
“Trust me, Plutarch’s thrilled,” Cressida adds.
“That’s because Plutarch doesn’t care who dies,” I say. “Not as long as his Games are a success.”
Cressida and Gale go round and round trying to convince me. Pollux nods at their words to back them up. Only Peeta doesn’t offer an opinion.
“What do you think, Peeta?” I finally ask him.
“I think…you still have no idea. The effect you can have.” He slides his cuffs up the support and pushes himself to a sitting position. “None of the people we lost were idiots. They knew what they were doing. They followed you because they believed you really could kill Snow.”
I don’t know why his voice reaches me when no one else’s can. But if he’s right, and I think he is, I owe the others a debt that can only be repaid in one way. I pull my paper map from a pocket in my uniform and spread it out on the floor with new resolve. “Where are we, Cressida?”
Chapter 27
I wake with a start. Pale morning light comes around the edges of the shutters. The scraping of the shovel continues. Still half in the nightmare, I run down the hall, out the front door, and around the side of the house, because now I’m pretty sure I can scream at the dead. When I see him, I pull up short. His face is flushed from digging up the ground under the windows. In a wheelbarrow are five scraggly bushes.
“You’re back,” I say.
“Dr. Aurelius wouldn’t let me leave the Capitol until yesterday,” Peeta says. “By the way, he said to tell you he can’t keep pretending he’s treating you forever. You have to pick up the phone.”
He looks well. Thin and covered with burn scars like me, but his eyes have lost that clouded, tortured look. He’s frowning slightly, though, as he takes me in. I make a halfhearted effort to push my hair out of my eyes and realize it’s matted into clumps. I feel defensive. “What are you doing?”
“I went to the woods this morning and dug these up. For her,” he says. “I thought we could plant them along the side of the house.”
I look at the bushes, the clods of dirt hanging from their roots, and catch my breath as the wordrose registers. I’m about to yell vicious things at Peeta when the full name comes to me. Not plain rose but evening primrose. The flower my sister was named for. I give Peeta a nod of assent and hurry back into the house, locking the door behind me. But the evil thing is inside, not out. Trembling with weakness and anxiety, I run up the stairs. My foot catches on the last step and I crash onto the floor. I force myself to rise and enter my room. The smell’s very faint but still laces the air. It’s there. The white rose among the dried flowers in the vase. Shriveled and fragile, but holding on to that unnatural perfection cultivated in Snow’s greenhouse. I grab the vase, stumble down to the kitchen, and throw its contents into the embers. As the flowers flare up, a burst of blue flame envelops the rose and devours it. Fire beats roses again. I smash the vase on the floor for good measure.
Slowly, with many lost days, I come back to life. I try to follow Dr. Aurelius’s advice, just going through the motions, amazed when one finally has meaning again. I tell him my idea about the book, and a large box of parchment sheets arrives on the next train from the Capitol.
I got the idea from our family’s plant book. The place where we recorded those things you cannot trust to memory. The page begins with the person’s picture. A photo if we can find it. If not, a sketch or painting by Peeta. Then, in my most careful handwriting, come all the details it would be a crime to forget. Lady licking Prim’s cheek. My father’s laugh. Peeta’s father with the cookies. The color of Finnick’s eyes. What Cinna could do with a length of silk. Boggs reprogramming the Holo. Rue poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight. On and on. We seal the pages with salt water and promises to live well to make their deaths count. Haymitch finally joins us, contributing twenty-three years of tributes he was forced to mentor. Additions become smaller. An old memory that surfaces. A late primrose preserved between the pages. Strange bits of happiness, like the photo of Finnick and Annie’s newborn son.
We learn to keep busy again. Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out, and then raises geese until the next train arrives. Fortunately, the geese can take pretty good care of themselves. We’re not alone. A few hundred others return because, whatever has happened, this is our home. With the mines closed, they plow the ashes into the earth and plant food. Machines from the Capitol break ground for a new factory where we will make medicines. Although no one seeds it, the Meadow turns green again.
Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale’s fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.
So after, when he whispers, “You love me. Real or not real?”
I tell him, “Real.”
epilogue
They play in the Meadow. The dancing girl with the dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with blond curls and gray eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs. It took five, ten, fifteen years for me to agree. But Peeta wanted them so badly. When I first felt her stirring inside of me, I was consumed with a terror that felt as old as life itself. Only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it. Carrying him was a little easier, but not much.
The questions are just beginning. The arenas have been completely destroyed, the memorials built, there are no more Hunger Games. But they teach about them at school, and the girl knows we played a role in them. The boy will know in a few years. How can I tell them about that world without frightening them to death? My children, who take the words of the song for granted:
Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
And when again they open, the sun will rise.
Here it’s safe, here it’s warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you.
My children, who don’t know they play on a graveyard.
Peeta says it will be okay. We have each other. And the book. We can make them understand in a way that will make them braver. But one day I’ll have to explain about my nightmares. Why they came. Why they won’t ever really go away.
I’ll tell them how I survive it. I’ll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I’m afraid it could be taken away. That’s when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I’ve seen someone do. It’s like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years.
But there are much worse games to play.
And Because I am a super Petty Person Gales Kisses will be added below
"If only it were that simple." He picks up one of the flowered cookies and examines it. "Lovely. Your mother made these?"
"Peeta." And for the first time, I find I can't hold his gaze. I reach for my tea but set it back down when I hear the cup rattling against the saucer. To cover I quickly take a cookie.
"Peeta. How is the love of your life?" he asks. "Good," I say.
"At what point did he realize the exact degree of your indifference?" he asks, dipping his cookie in his tea. "I'm not indifferent," I say.
"But perhaps not as taken with the young man as you would have the country believe," he says. "Who says I'm not?" I say.
"I do," says the president. "And I wouldn't be here if I were the only person who had doubts. How's the handsome cousin?"
"I don't know ... I don't ..." My revulsion at this conversation, at discussing my feelings for two of the people I care most about with President Snow, chokes me off.
"Speak, Miss Everdeen. Him I can easily kill off if we don't come to a happy resolution," he says. "You aren't doing him a favor by disappearing into the woods with him each Sunday."
If he knows this, what else does he know? And how does he know it? Many people could tell him that Gale and I spend our Sundays hunting. Don't we show up at the end of each one loaded down with game? Haven't we for years? The real question is what he thinks goes on in the woods beyond District 12. Surely they haven't been tracking us in there. Or have they? Could we have been followed? That seems impossible. At least by a person. Cameras? That never crossed my mind until this moment. The woods have always been our place of safety, our place beyond the reach of the Capitol, where we're free to say what we feel, be who we are. At least before the Games. If we've been watched since, what have they seen? Two people hunting, saying treasonous things against the Capitol, yes. But not two people in love, which seems to be President Snow's implication. We are safe on that charge. Unless ... unless ...
It only happened once. It was fast and unexpected, but it did happen.
After Peeta and I got home from the Games, it was several weeks before I saw Gale alone. First there were the obligatory celebrations. A banquet for the victors that only the most high-ranking people were invited to. A holiday for the whole district with free food and entertainers brought in from the Capitol. Parcel Day, the first of twelve, in which food packages were delivered to every person in the district. That was my favorite. To see all those hungry kids in the Seam running around, waving cans of applesauce, tins of meat, even candy. Back home, too big to carry, would be bags of grain, cans of oil. To know that once a month for a year they would all receive another parcel. That was one of the few times I actually felt good about winning the Games.
So between the ceremonies and events and the reporters documenting my every move as I presided and thanked and kissed Peeta for the audience, I had no privacy at all. After a few weeks, things finally died down. The camera crews and reporters packed up and went home. Peeta and I assumed the cool relationship we've had ever since. My family settled into our house in the Victor's Village. The everyday life of District 12 - workers to the mines, kids to school - resumed its usual pace. I waited until I thought the coast was really clear, and then one Sunday, without telling anyone, I got up hours before dawn and took off for the woods.
The weather was still warm enough that I didn't need a jacket. I packed along a bag filled with special foods, cold chicken and cheese and bakery bread and oranges. Down at my old house, I put on my hunting boots. As usual, the fence was not charged and it was simple to slip into the woods and retrieve my bow and arrows. I went to our place, Gale's and mine, where we had shared breakfast the morning of the reaping that sent me into the Games.
I waited at least two hours. I'd begun to think that he'd given up on me in the weeks that had passed. Or that he no longer cared about me. Hated me even. And the idea of losing him forever, my best friend, the only person I'd ever trusted with my secrets, was so painful I couldn't stand it. Not on top of everything else that had happened. I could feel my eyes tearing up and my throat starting to close the way it does when I get upset.
Then I looked up and there he was, ten feet away, just watching me. Without even thinking, I jumped up and threw my arms around him, making some weird sound that combined laughing, choking, and crying. He was holding me so tightly that I couldn't see his face, but it was a really long time before he let me go and then he didn't have much choice, because I'd gotten this unbelievably loud case of the hiccups and had to get a drink.
We did what we always did that day. Ate breakfast. Hunted and fished and gathered. Talked about people in town. But not about us, his new life in the mines, my time in the arena. Just about other things. By the time we were at the hole in the fence that's nearest the Hob, I think I really believed that things could be the same. That we could go on as we always had. I'd given all the game to Gale to trade since we had so much food now. I told him I'd skip the Hob, even though I was looking forward to going there, because my mother and sister didn't even know I'd gone hunting and they'd be wondering where I was. Then suddenly, as I was suggesting I take over the daily snare run, he took my face in his hands and kissed me.
I was completely unprepared. You would think that after all the hours I'd spent with Gale - watching him talk and laugh and frown - that I would know all there was to know about his lips. But I hadn't imagined how warm they would feel pressed against my own. Or how those hands, which could set the most intricate of snares, could as easily entrap me. I think I made some sort of noise in the back of my throat, and I vaguely remember my fingers, curled tightly closed, resting on his chest. Then he let go and said, "I had to do that. At least once." And he was gone.
Despite the fact that the sun was setting and my family would be worried, I sat by a tree next to the fence. I tried to decide how I felt about the kiss, if I had liked it or resented it, but all I really remembered was the pressure of Gale's lips and the scent of the oranges that still lingered on his skin. It was pointless comparing it with the many kisses I'd exchanged with Peeta. I still hadn't figured out if any of those counted. Finally I went home.
That week I managed the snares and dropped off the meat with Hazelle. But I didn't see Gale until Sunday. I had this whole speech worked out, about how I didn't want a boyfriend and never planned on marrying, but I didn't end up using it. Gale acted as if the kiss had never happened.
Maybe he was waiting for me to say something. Or kiss him back. Instead I just pretended it had never happened, either. But it had. Gale had shattered some invisible barrier between us and, with it, any hope I had of resuming our old, uncomplicated friendship. Whatever I pretended, I could never look at his lips in quite the same way.
This all flashes through my head in an instant as President Snow's eyes bore into me on the heels of his threat to kill Gale. How stupid I've been to think the Capitol would just ignore me once I'd returned home! Maybe I didn't know about the potential uprisings. But I knew they were angry with me. Instead of acting with the extreme caution the situation called for, what have I done? From the president's point of view, I've ignored Peeta and flaunted my preference for Gale's company before the whole district. And by doing so made it clear I was, in fact, mocking the Capitol. Now I've endangered Gale and his family and my family and Peeta, too, by my carelessness.
"Please don't hurt Gale," I whisper. "He's just my friend. He's been my friend for years. That's all that's between us. Besides, everyone thinks we're cousins now."
"I'm only interested in how it affects your dynamic with Peeta, thereby affecting the mood in the districts," he says.
"It will be the same on the tour. I'll be in love with him just as I was," I say.
"Just as you are," corrects President Snow.
"Just as I am," I confirm.
For the first time, I reverse our positions in my head. I imagine watching Gale volunteering to save Rory in the reaping, having him torn from my life, becoming some strange girl's lover to stay alive, and then coming home with her. Living next to her. Promising to marry her.
The hatred I feel for him, for the phantom girl, for everything, is so real and immediate that it chokes me. Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else is unthinkable. Why did it take him being whipped within an inch of his life to see it?
Because I'm selfish. I'm a coward. I'm the kind of girl who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn't follow to suffer and die. This is the girl Gale met in the woods today.
No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does.
You saved Peeta, I think weakly.
But now I question even that. I knew good and well that my life back in District 12 would be unlivable if I let that boy die.
I rest my head forward on the edge of the table, overcome with loathing for myself. Wishing I had died in the arena. Wishing Seneca Crane had blown me to bits the way President Snow said he should have when I held out the berries.
The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful of poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth. The trouble is, I don't know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment.
Could it be the people in the districts are right? That it was an act of rebellion, even if it was an unconscious one? Because, deep down, I must know it isn't enough to keep myself, or my family, or my friends alive by running away. Even if I could. It wouldn't fix anything. It wouldn't stop people from being hurt the way Gale was today.
Life in District 12 isn't really so different from life in the arena. At some point, you have to stop running and turn around and face whoever wants you dead. The hard thing is finding the courage to do it. Well, it's not hard for Gale. He was born a rebel. I'm the one making an escape plan.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper. I lean forward and kiss him.
His eyelashes flutter and he looks at me through a haze of opiates. "Hey, Catnip."
"Hey, Gale," I say.
"Thought you'd be gone by now," he says.
My choices are simple. I can die like quarry in the woods or I can die here beside Gale. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay right here and cause all kinds of trouble."
"Me, too," Gale says. He just manages a smile before the drugs pull him back under.
By the time we reach the town square, afternoon's sinking into evening. I take Cressida to the rubble of the bakery and ask her to film something. The only emotion I can muster is exhaustion. "Peeta, this is your home. None of your family has been heard of since the bombing. Twelve is gone. And you're calling for a cease-fire?" I look across the emptiness. "There's no one left to hear you."
As we stand before the lump of metal that was the gallows, Cressida asks if either of us has ever been tortured. In answer, Gale pulls off his shirt and turns his back to the camera. I stare at the lash marks, and again hear the whistling of the whip, see his bloody figure hanging unconscious by his wrists.
"I'm done," I announce. "I'll meet you at the Victor's Village. Something for...my mother."
I guess I walked here, but the next thing I'm conscious of is sitting on the floor in front of the kitchen cabinets of our house in the Victor's Village. Meticulously lining ceramic jars and glass bottles into a box. Placing clean cotton bandages between them to prevent breaking. Wrapping bunches of dried flowers.
Suddenly, I remember the rose on my dresser. Was it real? If so, is it still up there? I have to resist the temptation to check. If it's there, it will only frighten me all over again. I hurry with my packing.
When the cabinets are empty, I rise to find that Gale has materialized in my kitchen. It's disturbing how soundlessly he can appear. He's leaning on the table, his fingers spread wide against the wood grain. I set the box between us. "Remember?" he asks. "This is where you kissed me."
So the heavy dose of morphling administered after the whipping wasn't enough to erase that from his consciousness. "I didn't think you'd remember that," I say.
"Have to be dead to forget. Maybe even not then," he tells me. "Maybe I'll be like that man in 'The Hanging Tree.' Still waiting for an answer." Gale, who I have never seen cry, has tears in his eyes. To keep them from spilling over, I reach forward and press my lips against his. We taste of heat, ashes, and misery. It's a surprising flavor for such a gentle kiss. He pulls away first and gives me a wry smile. "I knew you'd kiss me."
"How?" I say. Because I didn't know myself.
"Because I'm in pain," he says. "That's the only way I get your attention." He picks up the box. "Don't worry, Katniss. It'll pass." He leaves before I can answer.
I'm too weary to work through his latest charge. I spend the short ride back to 13 curled up in a seat, trying to ignore Plutarch going on about one of his favorite subjects - weapons mankind no longer has at its disposal. High-flying planes, military satellites, cell disintegrators, drones, biological weapons with expiration dates. Brought down by the destruction of the atmosphere or lack of resources or moral squeamishness. You can hear the regret of a Head Gamemaker who can only dream of such toys, who must make do with hovercraft and land-to-land missiles and plain old guns.
Gale finds me when they arrive late one afternoon. I'm sitting on a log at the edge of my current village, plucking a goose. A dozen or so of the birds are piled at my feet. Great flocks of them have been migrating through here since I've arrived, and the pickings are easy. Without a word, Gale settles beside me and begins to relieve a bird of its feathers. We're through about half when he says, "Any chance we'll get to eat these?"
"Yeah. Most go to the camp kitchen, but they expect me to give a couple to whoever I'm staying with tonight," I say. "For keeping me."
"Isn't the honor of the thing enough?" he says.
"You'd think," I reply. "But word's gotten out that mockingjays are hazardous to your health."
We pluck in silence for a while longer. Then he says, "I saw Peeta yesterday. Through the glass."
"What'd you think?" I ask.
"Something selfish," says Gale.
"That you don't have to be jealous of him anymore?" My fingers give a yank, and a cloud of feathers floats down around us.
"No. Just the opposite." Gale pulls a feather out of my hair. "I thought...I'll never compete with that. No matter how much pain I'm in." He spins the feather between his thumb and forefinger. "I don't stand a chance if he doesn't get better. You'll never be able to let him go. You'll always feel wrong about being with me."
"The way I always felt wrong kissing him because of you," I say.
Gale holds my gaze. "If I thought that was true, I could almost live with the rest of it."
"It is true," I admit. "But so is what you said about Peeta."
Gale makes a sound of exasperation. Nonetheless, after we've dropped off the birds and volunteered to go back to the woods to gather kindling for the evening fire, I find myself wrapped in his arms. His lips brushing the faded bruises on my neck, working their way to my mouth. Despite what I feel for Peeta, this is when I accept deep down that he'll never come back to me. Or I'll never go back to him. I'll stay in 2 until it falls, go to the Capitol and kill Snow, and then die for my trouble. And he'll die insane and hating me. So in the fading light I shut my eyes and kiss Gale to make up for all the kisses I've withheld, and because it doesn't matter anymore, and because I'm so desperately lonely I can't stand it. Gale's touch and taste and heat remind me that at least my body's still alive, and for the moment it's a welcome feeling. I empty my mind and let the sensations run through my flesh, happy to lose myself. When Gale pulls away slightly, I move forward to close the gap, but I feel his hand under my chin. "Katniss," he says. The instant I open my eyes, the world seems disjointed. This is not our woods or our mountains or our way. My hand automatically goes to the scar on my left temple, which I associate with confusion. "Now kiss me." Bewildered, unblinking, I stand there while he leans in and presses his lips to mine briefly. He examines my face closely. "What's going on in your head?"
"I don't know," I whisper back.
"Then it's like kissing someone who's drunk. It doesn't count," he says with a weak attempt at a laugh. He scoops up a pile of kindling and drops it in my empty arms, returning me to myself.
"How do you know?" I say, mostly to cover my embarrassment. "Have you kissed someone who's drunk?" I guess Gale could've been kissing girls right and left back in 12. He certainly had enough takers. I never thought about it much before.
He just shakes his head. "No. But it's not hard to imagine."
"So, you never kissed any other girls?" I ask.
"I didn't say that. You know, you were only twelve when we met. And a real pain besides. I did have a life outside of hunting with you," he says, loading up with firewood.
Suddenly, I'm genuinely curious. "Who did you kiss? And where?"
"Too many to remember. Behind the school, on the slag heap, you name it," he says.
I roll my eyes. "So when did I become so special? When they carted me off to the Capitol?"
"No. About six months before that. Right after New Year's. We were in the Hob, eating some slop of Greasy Sae's. And Darius was teasing you about trading a rabbit for one of his kisses. And I realized...I minded," he tells me.
I remember that day. Bitter cold and dark by four in the afternoon. We'd been hunting, but a heavy snow had driven us back into town. The Hob was crowded with people looking for refuge from the weather. Greasy Sae's soup, made with stock from the bones of a wild dog we'd shot a week earlier, was below her usual standards. Still, it was hot, and I was starving as I scooped it up, sitting cross-legged on her counter. Darius was leaning on the post of the stall, tickling my cheek with the end of my braid, while I smacked his hand away. He was explaining why one of his kisses merited a rabbit, or possibly two, since everyone knows redheaded men are the most virile. And Greasy Sae and I were laughing because he was so ridiculous and persistent and kept pointing out women around the Hob who he said had paid far more than a rabbit to enjoy his lips. "See? The one in the green muffler? Go ahead and ask her.If you need a reference."
A million miles from here, a billion days ago, this happened. "Darius was just joking around," I say.
"Probably. Although you'd be the last to figure out if he wasn't," Gale tells me. "Take Peeta. Take me. Or even Finnick. I was starting to worry he had his eye on you, but he seems back on track now."
"You don't know Finnick if you think he'd love me," I say.
Gale shrugs. "I know he was desperate. That makes people do all kinds of crazy things."
I can't help thinking that's directed at me.
Gale catches my arm before I can disappear. "So that's what you're thinking now?" I shrug. "Katniss, as your oldest friend, believe me when I say he's not seeing you as you really are." He kisses my cheek and goes.
#THG#HUNGER GAMES#The Hunger Games#catching fire#CatchingFire#MOCKINGJAY#mockingjay part 1#mockingjay part 2#kisses#katniss everdeen#katniss and peeta#Katniss#Peeta Mellark#Peeta#gale#gale hawthorne#cf#beach scene#cave scene#everlark#everlark moments
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Reflecting on the Loki show
Hurray – fewer instances of cringey humour in Episode 2 than Episode 1!
Shame about there not being a single scene in the entire episode in Episode 2 where Loki felt in character
If this wasn’t a Loki show, I’d probably be enjoying it at the same level as a casual viewer of any other TV show. The plot’s interesting with a different take on time travel that I’ve seen, and there are no boring moments. But I can’t get past the lack of MCU Loki here. I just... Ugh. It’s so frustrating. No other media could get away with the main character suddenly having a personality transplant, but because it’s Marvel people are... fine with it, for some reason?
I can live with the tone and plot being different to what I’d do with it if I’d had the choice. I’ve said multiple times in the past that just because the show probably won’t give me what I want from it doesn’t mean that the show can’t be good in its own right. But what I didn’t anticipate before any of the trailers started coming out was that the Loki here might not feel like MCU Loki at all. I can forgive a lot of things, but I just can’t wrap my head around the sheer number of people who must have given the green light to all the decisions made about his characterisation. Those kinds of things can’t just be blamed on one person, it’d be a combination of the writers, directors, actors, producers...
I never thought that Loki finally getting to be the main character on screen (how many years have I wanted that to happen? 7? 8?) would be the thing to cause me to have my first ever thoughts about quitting this fandom.
I’m not having fun. I’m used to being more than a bit disappointed. I even stayed in the fandom after Thor: Ragnarok came about without much complaining, despite not being a fan of a fair amount of elements in it. I even stayed after Infinity War and Endgame came out with very little complaining either, despite how many things there were that I didn’t like in them. I even rewatched Game of Thrones after being just as unsatisfied with how it was tied up as everyone else was, and I still love the first four seasons and some scenes from later on (yes, even including Season 8).
But I’m not used to being this level of disappointed. The past month I’ve gone from having 5 different Loki WIPs I wanted to write to suddenly not being sure if I want to finish any of them at all. I mean, at least two of them will be finished because they’re oneshots for an event and I’ve already done most of the work so I might as well, but the contrast with my motivation is huge.
I don’t want to leave this fandom. I still have things I (hypothetically) want to write. I have over 100,000 words of various unpublished Loki fanfics that I’ve been working on. I don’t want them to go to waste. I want to finish what I started. It’s not like the enthusiasm for the idea of the stories has gone, it’s just... I don’t know, the overarching disappointment and not having fun in a fandom space anymore? How strongly Loki is associated with me feeling bitter and miserable now? How the show and the experience outside of it is doing the opposite of inspiring me?
I don’t to be that person either. You know, the one who has an entire blog dedicated to moaning about something. The one who seems determined to interpret everything in the worst possible light, regardless of rationalism. The one who seems like they’d never be satisfied unless something was made 100% their way, and if it wasn’t then of course it’s Problematic and that’s why it’s Just Plain Bad, and it’s nothing to do with personal taste and a certain amount of projection. The one who starts getting positive reinforcement about hating something, so it becomes a habit and before they know it, it’s part of their daily routine, and they’re still regularly doing it years later. The one who goes on about how ‘if you’re a true fan of [x] and really understood [x], this would bother you’, or worse, starts making it personal with the real people involved in the creation of the show.
But the experience of not liking the show is a lonely one. There are other people who don’t agree on his characterisation either, I know. But when the vast majority of people who watch it seem not to find the changes in his entire character jarring? When people are going around saying that it’s not until now that the writers have finally understood Loki? When you get people acting like anyone who voices any criticism whatsoever is ridiculous and shouldn’t be in the fandom and behaves like they might catch the Taint of Negativity if they were to associate with them? When any criticisms are dismissed as ‘people who just want to hate the show’?
Believe me, I don’t want to hate the show. I’d love to be happy with the show. But I'm not. This Loki doesn’t feel like MCU Loki. The only time he did feel like himself to me was during the scene towards the end of Episode 1 where he was watching parts of his life on screen. That’s it. Over one and a half hours into the series so far, 1/3 of the entire show. Out of all that, only one scene.
And now every time I see people being happy about the show it makes me feel resentful. And, no, I’m not going to add anything negative to their posts or say anything to them. If the show is what it is and there’s no changing it then it’s better at least some people get to enjoy it rather than it bringing about universal misery. I don’t want to take away anyone else’s happiness. I just to feel happy too, but I don’t, and I’m painfully aware of it.
I don’t know where I’m going with this, I think I’m just venting.
I don’t know what the solution is either. Space from fandom for a bit? I mean, I’ve been doing this a bit already recently (not full commitment, just more than usual), but I like being able to use tumblr as an escape. Unfollow people/leave Discord groups? But there are people who I’ve had plenty of positive interactions with, and I don’t want to lose those connections.
It’s really dumb, but I like my fandom corner. I like knowing that if I post a fic, there’ll be a certain small group of people who’ll probably read it, and a smaller chunk of those who’ll comment on it, even all these years later. And there are still so many stories I want to tell with Loki, so many things I haven’t done yet, but...
Yeah, I don’t know if my motivation will come back or not (I’m leaning towards maybe not). Or how much the fandom will change as a result of the show. I’d expect a wave newcomers, but if a lot of new fics being written are largely based on the show characterisation (and if reader expectation of Loki’s characterisation lies with that too), then I have little to no interest in it.
Oh, and another thing to add to my list of things I don’t want to be: I don’t want to be that person who is all ‘I’ve been here longer and know better and am therefore more of a real fan than any of you new people’. So there’s that.
Ultimately, I think I’m eventually going to have to choose between staying and trying to squash/somehow extinguish any bitter feelings, or leaving. I don’t like either of those options very much. It might be premature of me to post this before the show has ended because my feelings might change, but, unsurprisingly, writing is a good way of processing feelings and I’ve been having a lot of them that need processing.
In case anyone’s actually read this obscene amount of rambling, I’m okay, I’m not, like, weeping over this as I write or anything. But it’s still not a great feeling to have a place that was once my favourite place for escapism and creativity to make me feel like I might not be welcome or like I might not want to be there. And it’s not like I can easily just switch over to another fandom to write for, because there are no other characters who have inspired me to write anywhere near much as Loki has. So, yes, I’m feeling a little sorry for myself. All over a fictional TV show. I repeat: it’s dumb.
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Favorite Movies as of 2021
Subject to updating because surely I’ve missed a few. This is not supposed to be a list of meritorious films but rather just a list of movies I genuinely enjoy. It runs from Shakespeare to Bill & Ted with heavy doses of 80s fantasy, superhero schlock, and pretty much anything with Kurt Russell in it. Enjoy.
1- Harvey
No contest, my favorite of all time.
2- Big Trouble in Little China
It’s always a great joy to introduce a new viewer to this film.
3- Flash Gordon (1980)
In which they totally lean into the camp and low budget.
4- The Thing
I watch this annually upon the first major snowfall.
5- Titus (Taymor)
One winter break Titus would be on one of the movie channels each day when I woke up, so I watched it daily for a month and it didn’t get old.
6- Death to Smoochy
“Are you alright?”
“I’m a little fucked up in general so it’s hard to gauge.”
7- Blade Runner (The Final Cut)
So there’s this dude Deckard and he hunts robots but it turns out HE’S a robot, oh so very clever, little film
8- Tombstone
I recently learned that Kurt Russell directed this film in all but name.
9- The Dark Crystal
Immersive fantasy, though I’m sure it appears plain, drab, and simple now after the Netflix prequel.
10- Somewhere in Time
I’m a romantic, I guess. Thus all the John Carpenter movies.
11- Grosse Pointe Blank
So good, I used to think I liked John Cusack.
12- The Producers (musical)
You heard me. Wilder and Mostel were great but the musical version had decades to mill over and expand the premise.
13- To Be or Not To Be (Brooks)
Surprisingly suspenseful.
14- The 13th Warrior
Saw it again recently and it holds up. Horror, only it happens to viking warriors who would rather chop the horror down than run.
15- The Mighty Thor
I mean, Black Panther is objectively the best of the lot but subjectively this is my personal favorite superhero flick. I must have seen it a half a dozen times at least.
16- Lost Boys
A billion Chinese can’t be wrong.
17- Die Hard
A Christmas tradition. As a postman, it’s cathartic for me to watch Christmas get blown up a little before all the hugging and sentiment.
18- The Blues Brothers
Deadpan hilarity cut with performances by legends of blues and soul.
19- The Sting
The best heist film. It keeps you guessing until the very end and no twist feels arbitrary or leaves a hole.
20- Interview with the Vampire
Fun fact, I looked like Pitt’s Louis when I was a young man in the goth scene.
21- Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure
“Be excellent to each other!”
“Party on, dudes!”
*air guitar*
22- The Seventh Seal
See? This list has its high points.
23- Revolutionary Girl Utena
Note: Read the entire manga, watch the entire anime series, and read Adolescence of Utena BEFORE watching this or you’ll be left confused. Dazzled but confused.
24- The Nightmare Before Christmas
So good I got the tarot deck.
25- The Last Unicorn
It’s still a damn shame they never made that live action remake. Christopher Lee was set to reprise King Haggard.
26- Chasing Amy
Honestly changed my life.
27- Excalibur
It’s weird though how they’re always in armor. Wedding? Armor. Dinner? Armor. Deathbed? Armor.
28- Ginger Snaps
A cut above any other werewolf movie I’ve seen.
29- Top Secret!
My sense of humor distilled.
30- Clash of the Titans (Harryhousen)
Yeah it’s dry but then there’s the monsters.
31- Monty Python’s the Meaning of Life
People are not wearing enough hats.
32- Shadow of the Vampire
Nosferatu nearly made this list but it’s hard to pinpoint a definitive cut. Try instead this film about the making of Nosferatu with an actual vampire as the vampire.
33- Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust
Look, we as a culture had the unfortunate experience of Twilight. This is the same premise but actually good.
34- The Last Supper
This film challenged and changed me as a young man more so than any other work of art.
35- The Princess Bride
The perfect film, but I’ve seen it so much it’s down at 35 now.
36- Blazing Saddles
What can I as a white guy say? Just watch the movie.
37- Streets of Fire
Always suspicious to me how Final Fight premiered within a year of this movie.
38- Gremlins
More Christmas havok. Yum?
39- The Beastmaster
Forgotten and underappreciated.
40- Ladyhawke
A thing of beauty.
41- Willow
C’mon. It’s Willow. I have nothing to justify here.
42- Speed Racer
I know you heard it’s bad but hear me out: it is the strongest narrative I’ve ever seen on film and it’s exactly the way you played with your toy cars when you were little.
43- Angelheart
You’re supposed to know that de Niro is Lucifer. The rest is mystery and the final reveal set up a trope that’s been done into the ground nowadays.
44- The Hunger
More atmosphere than plot, but hey, vampire Bowie!
45- Zoolander
My partner’s favorite.
46- Faust (Murnau)
You will be shocked to see what was possible to achieve in film in 1926.
47- A Muppet Christmas Carol but a cut that includes the fiance’s song
This finishes out my traditional Christmas films.
48- Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein
Y’know, I’ve got two Branagh films on here and neither are what you would expect given his catalog. The other one’s Thor for crying out loud.
49- Highlander
I noticed in recent editions of Vampire: the Masquerade that it’s still possible in that game to hide a katana in a trenchcoat. This movie is why.
50- The Name of the Rose
One of only a few instances where I prefer the film to the book. That book loooooong.
51- Robocop (1987)
Of all the damn science fiction, why must we be in Robocop?
52- The Prophecy
Now we’re getting into films I demoted since the last time I updated this list. This film’s a slow burn unless you get turned up for angels and Christopher Walken like I do.
53- The Warriors
Would be higher if the opening wasn’t so slow.
54- Legend
Tim Curry kills it as Darkness.
55- Black Panther
Objectively the best superhero movie and the Academy backs me on that one.
56- Wonder Woman
I do wish they’d trot out Vandal Savage as a Wonder Woman villain.
57- Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Just rewatched this one earlier! It is heavily marked by the height of the War on Terror.
58- Blade
The ancestor of all modern superhero movies and a solid vampire flick to boot.
59- Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Nostalgic for me? Maybe, but I hold that this is the first comic film worth a damn because they stuck with the comics when they wrote it.
60- Captain America: the First Avenger
This movie is a real test of character. If someone doesn’t like Cap it’s because they think goodness is unrealistic.
61- Four Rooms
Really just rooms 3 and 4.
62- Reservoir Dogs
Hey, two Tim Roth films in a row!
63- Event Horizon
Do you see?
64- What Dreams May Come
Kind of an emotional ringer, especially after William’s death.
65- Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Have I watched it into the ground? Yes. Is it still hilarious? Yes, and it gets funnier the more you study Arthurian myth.
66- Pulp Fiction
I’m kinda over this now.
67- The Crow
People who liked the comic passionately disagree with me but I still like this one.
68- Akira
Still.
69- Ghost in the Shell
Still, though the farther you get from 13 the less titties you need in your art.
70- Beetlejuice
Why not? Let's just tack this on there.
Honorable Mentions:
Fight Club
A suburb film but one I grew out of, as should everyone. If you meet a man who’s passionate about Fight Club, run!
American Psycho
Ditto. I grew out of this but it’s still excellent.
What’s Eating Gilbert Grape
A horrible caricature of my brother’s life. I don’t get along with my brother any more.
Rocky Horror Picture Show
Not actually a good film if you watch it straight with no commentary. Still, it’s a cornerstone of queer culture.
Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 2
Of all the superhero films, this is the one that resonated with me the most. I was in a weird place at the time. It still resonates with me now because I’m a foster dad.
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A Complete Character Analysis of Sgt. Anacostia Quartermaine
Anacostia Quartermaine. She’s been a giant question mark since day one but is slowly starting to reveal her true intentions. However, my curiosity still remains about her treatment of Raelle and whether or not it’s special. I rewatched all of the episodes with a special focus on her and here’s what I’ve managed to find. This is a long one, I’m sorry. There’s a whole lot to it, I understand if you have to tap out halfway through or skip to the conclusion, but I’d like to think it’s a thorough compilation of everything Anacostia has shown through her actions, words, and body language.
Intro to Anacostia’s Character:
Anacostia was raised as a fosterling, a military child with no parents, and was looked after by Alder. This caused a strong bond to form between the two of them and made Anacostia the perfect right hand woman. As no-nonsense and professional as she likes to appear, we’ve seen some moments (unrelated to soldiers and training, I’ll get into those later) of humanity from her.
One of the best examples is when the fosterlings come to visit and she can’t help but smile. I think it’s clear that she enjoyed her upbringing and they give her both a nostalgic joy and excitement for the future.
We also see her reminiscing about Beltane with Berryessa, another hint that she remembers her childhood fondly.
She even has her hair down, completely freed from her strict drill sergeant duties.
Anacostia and Punishment:
The first time we see her have a one on one interaction is with Raelle, when she finds out about her first demerit. Immediately we see the epitome of the “I’m not mad, just disappointed” look.
She wipes away the demerit first thing without bothering to ask questions about it or punish Raelle. We only see her begin to get angry when Raelle says “I’m sorry” and she snaps back “are you?”. Instead of being angry that she broke the rules, Anacostia seems upset that Raelle doesn’t care about training or putting in effort to improve her work. She almost starts to yell when talking about how Raelle’s actions negatively impact those around her but takes a breath and calms down. Instead, she sits down next to Raelle which makes the scene feel much more like a pep talk from a big sister than a lecture from a superior officer.
She brings herself down to Raelle’s level and softens her tone, not wanting to seem too much like an authority figure. Keep this in mind, it’s important for later.
She also personally hand delivers Raelle’s mail from her dad, something I would presume is way above her pay grade.
Then we see strike number two after Raelle uses Salva with Scylla. Anacostia’s main priority is making sure Raelle gets medical attention (“We need to get you both to the infirmary”). While both girls took the Salva, Scylla has two officers standing guard by her bed and Raelle has none.
I don’t know if this is protocol, but it does seem like a special case. And seeing as how Anacostia dismisses both soldiers with a simple flick of her head, we can presume she gave them the guard duty in the first place.
Anacostia makes sure the guards are gone before threatening Scylla, perhaps because what she’s about to do isn’t quite up to code.
From the daily ranking list we know it is possible to be punished for improper treatment of subordinates, or lower ranking soldiers.
When her threats don’t seem to make an impact and Scylla is still making eyes at Raelle, Anacostia decides to get her point across by bringing Scylla to the brink of death. That might qualify as an abuse of power.
There’s no regret on her face either, she seems to be enjoying making her point.
In this moment I don’t believe Anacostia knew Scylla was Spree, but when Raelle’s progress was in danger she wasn’t afraid to use fear as a tactic to stop it (“Stay away from her. Far away. As if your life depended on it”). But she only punishes Scylla, not Raelle.
We see Raelle get in trouble again, this time for sleeping during training. Anacostia kicks Raelle’s foot out from under her to wake her up, to date the most physical punishment we’ve seen Raelle receive from her. Meanwhile, Abigail gets the brunt of Raelle’s failure when Anacostia forces her to hold out a tricky seed for a dangerous amount of time.
She is unconcerned, even though Abigail is clearly risking her voice and she was the one who told the girls “It is imperative that the entirety of your vocal apparatus... must remain functional and sound producing at all times. Inability to produce sound can leave a soldier powerless.”
This could be a psychological punishment, to get the message across to Raelle that her failures directly harm her team. Raelle cares more about others than herself (even if it was before her and Abigail bonded), so maybe Anacostia knew that it would make Raelle feel guilty. But I think it’s possible she wanted to spare Raelle while still making an example of mistake, so the other girls didn’t get the wrong idea.
Anacostia and Training:
We first see this in episode one, when Raelle storms in to confront Abigail. The other officers are concerned and want to break it up immediately, but Anacostia is interested in seeing the extent of what she can/will do.
She lets the storm rage for about as long as it can without becoming harmful to all those in the nearby vicinity and I think she may have also hoped that Raelle would wriggle out of Abigail’s chokehold. When she inevitably doesn’t, Anacostia grabs Abigail and a random official grabs Raelle. That may have been a subtle hint that Anacostia wanted to ensure Raelle’s safety, only trusting herself to remove Abigail in time.
Anacostia has a strange focus on Raelle in training. This may just be because the Bellweather Unit has the main characters and it makes sense for them to always be the focal point, but I’ll include it anyway.
Even after rebelling and expressing disinterest in being there, Raelle is trusted with being the leader of the pyramid in a training exercise.
While in a unit vocal lesson, Anacostia speaks directly to Raelle by saying “Very good Private Collar, that seed is a beast to master. Maintain it.” So was Raelle specifically given harder work than the others? Or was Anacostia only focusing on her?
Tally and Abigail argue back and forth about their moms, but it is only when Raelle says “how about we cool it on the mom talk” that Anacostia takes notice of the unit and encourages them to “use what’ve you got ladies”. They then proceed to produce a strong wind strike and we hear rare words of praise (“Best wind strike all day”).
Anacostia and Praise:
That leads me rather nicely into my next little segment, Anacostia’s praise of Raelle.
When Raelle wakes up in the infirmary after trying to save Porter, Anacostia’s first words are another comment about her wellbeing (“You could’ve died”).
She looks angry but this time Raelle hadn’t done anything wrong. It seems as if Anacostia was worried about Raelle and covered it up with a layer of anger for risking her health without a second thought.
For the second time we see Anacostia sit down next to her, lowering herself to an equal level so it feels like a friendly conversation rather than a conversation with her drill sergeant.
We hear her praise Raelle, saying “We are all incredibly proud of you, that kind of bravery can’t be taught.” While not the first time Anacostia has complimented Raelle, it is a very vulnerable moment where she talks specifically about her character rather than her skills. It mirrors the first demerit scene and shows Raelle’s growth and Anacostia’s investment in it.
But more importantly, Raelle doesn’t recognize the special treatment she is given. Anacostia is stern and she punishes more than she praises, so you would think Raelle may have started to notice. But in episode five we get two quotes that show she doesn’t.
“Yeah even Anacostia was impressed with our wind strikes.”
When have clearly seen several examples of Anacostia being impressed by their work, including the vocal lesson in the first episode and the wind strike.
“There’s no way she said that.”
When Scylla tells Raelle that Anacostia praised her skills, which we saw happen, Raelle cannot believe it. We’ve seen moments of Anacostia pushing Raelle and complimenting her skills, but Raelle doesn’t see past her her demanding exterior yet.
Perhaps Raelle thinks the bad moments outweigh the good, but when you see how Anacostia treats other soldiers it becomes clear how different she is with Raelle.
Anacostia and Other Soldiers (mainly Tally):
After the swimming pool Spree attack, everyone is a little shaken up. Particularly a woman named Simms, who can’t even produce sound because she’s crying so much.
“Simms, buck up. You are in the United States Army, will you cry every time the Spree attack?” She refuses to show any weakness in the moment because she wants to show her soldiers what strength looks like.
We do eventually see that Anacostia is also shaken up by the attacks and the reactions of her girls, a softer side she doesn’t often show.
She is clearly struggling as well but wants to train the weakness out the soldiers, to keep them safe. She waits for them to leave before breaking down slightly.
However, this is entirely different from how she handles Raelle’s Scylla meltdown. When Raelle is crying and screaming about the loss of Scylla, she tries not to react. Just like Simms’ feeling of fear and sadness, grief is a common occurrence in war that they need to learn how to deal with.
She maintains eye contact and betrays no emotion. Yet.
Even though Raelle is demanding that Anacostia do her job better and is accusing of her sabotaging the search (which she was but... still), Anacostia holds her ground. But when Raelle starts yelling (“You’re acting like I’m crazy, I’m not crazy”), something softens in her eyes.
I believe here she’s realizing just how much Scylla meant to Raelle and she does not want to see Raelle breakdown like this. She even does a hard swallow, as if forcing down some emotion trying to bubble to the surface. There is a sympathy in her eyes that isn’t in the first picture or her confrontation with Simms.
The harshest we’ve seen Anacostia act is towards Tally. Tally is bubbly and naive and still a little scared, all traits Anacostia wants to train out of her. While Raelle’s rebellion and disinterest seem like they should also deserve poor treatment, Anacostia appears to save all of her “harsh life lessons” for Tally.
In episode two, Anacostia singles Tally out and asks her to stab her in the eye, knowing that she would falter and fail.
The look here is cold and expectant. She knows Tally is terrified and won’t be able to do it, but she’s going make Tally feel the full extent of her failure.
When Tally falls, Anacostia barely looks at her before asking someone else to pick up her slack. She knew Tally wouldn’t be able to complete the task and wanted to teach her a cruel reality about war.
Then when Tally find her at the wedding, pale and shaking, to tell Anacostia about the Spree balloon, Anacostia snaps “what is it?” as her first response. While typically we see her holding back her anger and annoyance, Anacostia makes no attempt to hide how she feels about this inconvenience.
And if the message wasn’t clear before, when Tally grips onto her arm Anacostia yanks it away rather unceremoniously.
In episode six when Tally tracks her down to follow up about Scylla, Anacostia doesn’t even bother turning around to acknowledge that someone is talking to her.
She keeps her eyes and head tilted away from Tally, barely even acknowledging that they’re having a conversation. One could wave this away as her trying to keep the secret of Scylla’s location if not for the previous examples of her behavior towards Tally.
Anacostia speaks in short sentences, attempting to dismiss Tally as quickly as possible and only addresses her directly when she wants to threaten her to keep her mouth shut.
Anacostia and Scylla:
This frame about sums up Anacostia’s role in Scylla and Raelle’s relationship and I believe it’s quite purposeful.
She’s standing between them, a constant obstacle. Not only directly, when she threatens Scylla and when she kidnaps her but also what she represents. She wants Raelle to be a good soldier, to follow the life the military has laid out for her. Scylla wants her to see that there’s more to life than that and wants to get away from the military.
After she walks over, Raelle opens her mouth to speak but Anacostia talks over her and directly to Scylla (“You’re not supposed to be here”). It’s as if she’s trying to leave Raelle out of it, once again protecting her as if she’s a child.
As soon as Raelle calls Scylla her girlfriend, Anacostia’s glare shifts to Scylla. Throughout the Tally distraction, Anacostia watches her carefully.
There’s too much to screen shot here, so if you want to follow along, here you go. In her and Scylla’s one on one chat I think here you can see Anacostia’s thinly veiled affection for Raelle and how defensive she is of her, almost like an aunt or mother-figure. She says “you’ve taken advantage of a new recruit” in a tone much angrier than if she really was just a “new recruit”. It seems to be a deliberate choice of words to emotionally distance herself from Raelle in this situation. When Scylla takes credit for some of Raelle’s newfound success in training, Anacostia becomes even more mad and says “Raelle doesn’t need you, she has her own gifts. I suggest you end it sooner than later or I will make life very difficult for you, Ramshorn.” Scylla responds sarcastically and Anacostia responds with a slight head shake as if to say Scylla has no idea who she’s messing with.
Now last but not least, we have the big bombshell at the end where Anacostia is revealed to be torturing Scylla.
And I think the lighting says it all, this is a true dark side to Anacostia that we haven’t seen before. Almost completely unlit, leaving a shadowy portrait gives her the scene an eerie feeling and
Her interrogation starts with “how did you plan the wedding attack?”, meaning she believes Scylla was the force behind the Bellweather death(s) and all of the destruction it caused. The real question is would Anacostia be interrogating her like this if she didn’t think she was a mass murderer?
Conclusion:
Anacostia’s treatment of other soldiers is not bad (except for SELECT moments with Tally and Scylla). She is a drill sergeant training them for war, she needs to be tough to keep them alive. It’s not even close to Izadora slitting a girl’s throat in the promo for next week. However she unquestionably gives Raelle tough love, almost as if she’s watching over her. It’s possible Raelle reminds her of a younger her, or Anacostia knew her mom, or she somehow knows Raelle’s strength and is supposed to monitor her. But you can definitely see that she handles Raelle differently from other soldiers and Anacostia has personal interest in her advancement.
I think it also shows that Anacostia will be the first to want to stop torturing Scylla. She really doesn’t seem to be cold or cruel, only when something or someone she cares about is directly affected. When she finds out that Scylla abandoned the Spree for Raelle, I believe Anacostia will no longer want to harm her.
#if you're still here i appreciate you#just needed to get that all out in one post#anacostia quartermaine#motherland: fort salem#motherland fort salem#motherland#fort salem#raelle collar#scylla ramshorn#raylla#tally craven#grace speaks#MFS Research Institute
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Stuck in reverse - playlist
You can find it on Spotify here.
Okay, let’s talk about it!
Sam Smith – Fix you
I remember crying to the original song (by Coldplay) back in 2005. Whoo boy, lots of teenage feelings!
I’m not the biggest fan of Sam Smith’s music, but one day I was just driving home from work and this song began playing on the radio and by the end of it I could barely see the road.
// When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse? //
That one line – stuck in reverse – felt just so perfect for a story set in the universe where people invert themselves back and forth.
It became one of the three main songs that inspired me to write the whole damn thing, and also the only title in the story that is not a title of a song as well.
Chapter 1: Ben Platt – Ease my mind
This is one of the songs I have on my daily playlist, I just love it, and the lyrics are so fitting:
//Most days I wake up with a pit in my chest
There are thoughts that I can’t put to rest
There’s a worry that I can’t place
Most nights, I am restless and quiet won’t come
So I lay there and wait for the sun
There’s a trouble that won’t show its face
You came out of nowhere and you cut through all the noise
I make sense to the madness when I listen to your voice//
We learn more about the nightmares in the next chapters, but it all starts here. That melancholic vibe stuck with me for the rest of the story I guess.
Bonus song: Lewis Capaldi - Before you go
The combat scene in one song, or at least what I imagined was going through Reader’s mind at that point.
//I fell by the wayside like everyone else
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you but I was just kidding myself
Our every moment, I start to replace
‘Cause now that they’re gone, all I hear are the words that I needed to say
When you hurt under the surface
Like troubled water running cold
Well, time can heal but this won’t//
Have you ever felt that way? Trying to hide your broken heart under anger? I don’t know, it just resonated deeply.
The second part of the song kinda seeped into the next chapter:
//Was there something I could’ve said
To make your heart beat better?
If only I’d have known you had a storm to weather
//Would we be better off by now
If I’d have let my walls come down?
Maybe, I guess we’ll never know//
Chapter 2: Kaleo - I can’t go on without you
Another song from my daily playlists (side note – I saw Kaleo once live on a music festival and they were mind-blowing, you should really check out more of their work).
It worked with the story because of its desperate and painful mood.
Bonus: Calum Scott - Dancing on my own
Holy shit, I FELT this one. (Been there, done that). Of course I had to write it into Reader’s past. Actually, I wrote it first and then found the song, but it doesn’t matter, that’s the flashback scene right here:
//Somebody said you got a new friend
Does she love you better than I can?
And there’s a big black sky over my town
I know where you’re at, I bet she’s around
And yeah, I know it’s stupid
But I just gotta see it for myself
I’m in the corner, watching you kiss her,
I’m right over here, why can’t you see me?
And I’m giving it my all //
Chapter 3: Billie Eilish – Bad guy
No feels, pure bop. This song is so BADASS, I really needed to get that vibe into the undercover mission, I didn’t want Reader to be an emotional mess and nothing else, you know?
Bonus: Tones and I – Dance Monkey
I shit you not, I’ve had that one on repeat for the dance scene. There is something incredibly seductive in that beat, I just couldn’t get it out of my head.
Bonus: Kings of Leon – Closer
It just makes my heart clench and leaves me breathless.
Chapter 4: Ben Platt – Bad habit
Ah, that was the moment when I cursed at myself for using Ease my mind for chapter 1, but we already talked about it.
Even though this song is very emotional, it’s not that heartbreaking, you can hear a faint smile here and there and it just makes my heart sing.
And oh my god, those lyrics:
//You always said that I’d come back to you again
‘Cause everybody needs a friend, it’s true
Someone to quiet the voices in my head
Make ‘em sing to me instead, it’s you
Hate to say that I love you
Hate to say that I need you
Hate to say that I want you
But I do
Bad habit, I know
But I’m needin’ you right now
Can you help me out?
Can I lean on you?
Been one of those days
Sun don’t wanna come out
Can you help me out?
Can I lean on you?//
They just work with that plot, you know?
Bonus: Dodie – Sick of losing soulmates
Another song that just resonates with the story.
//What a strange being you are, God knows where I would be
If you hadn’t found me, sitting all alone in the dark
A dumb screenshot of youth
Watch how a cold broken teen
Will desperately lean on a superglued human of proof
What the hell would I be, without you (what the hell would I be)
Brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth (hide the truth)
'Cause I’m sick of losing soulmates, so where do we begin
I can finally see, you’re as fucked up as me
So how do we win?//
Chapter 5: Adele – Someone like you
The whole damn sunset scene + this song on repeat = feels
The pain in her voice? God, it just reduces me to a puddle of tears.
Reader could just sing it at some point to Neil almost word for word.
Bonus: Passenger – Let her go
Okay, the case of that one is quite funny, because I kinda needed to figure out how to get from point A to point B of the chapter, and I was browsing Spotify looking for „campfire songs” or something like that. Of course I’ve heard this one before, but I’ve never actually focused on the lyrics.
And oh boy, suddenly it all became clear.
Headcanon time – in my head, Wheeler and Neil are close friends, she treats him a bit like a younger brother, I just can imagine they know each other very well at that point. Of course she knows hows about his past. Of course she heard about Reader. And she thinks they are both silly babies and they should just kiss, right? That’s why she chooses that song.
Those lyrics – they fit Neil’s backstory so damn well.
//Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go//
And he was stupid enough to let her go. Because his timing was off.
Those lyrics are also perfect to make Reader think about his ex-girlfriend, because of course that is what you’re gonna it’s all about.
Bonus: Del Amitri – Tell her this
Ahh, there it is – the second out of three main songs for Stuck in Reverse.
I remember the moment I found out that Rob Pattinson sings and writes music, then I listened to some of the songs and my heart went whoooosh. So I just had to make Neil play a guitar, I just needed to find out what song would be The One.
Do you remember that flashback about them both watching a tv show on his couch? Here, you’re welcome.
I recently started rewatching Scrubs and when I got to that episode – ding, ding, ding!
This is the ultimate “hey, I fucked up, I shouldn’t have let you go, I’m an idiot and I love you.”
Chapter 6: Imagine Dragons – Next to me
I adore that song. It warms my heart. I think it fits Neil and Reader’s relationship.
And I needed all the fluffy feelings to switch the tone of the story to something lighter.
Bonus: Michelle Branch – Everywhere
This one is a silly bop, and it always puts me in a good mood. A nice song to listen to when you are happy, in love, and you are making breakfast.
Bonus: Ashlee Simpson – Pieces of me
This one (same as the one before) came to me from Zach Braff’s workout playlist, haha. I mean I almost forgot about it, but it makes me smile every time I hear it, and the lyrics work nicely:
//On a Monday I am waiting
Tuesday I am fading
And By Wednesday I can’t sleep
Then the phone rings I hear you
And the darkness is a clear view
Cause you’ve come to rescue me
Fall, with you I fall so fast
I can hardly catch my breath
I hope it lasts
It seems like I can finally
Rest my head on something real
I like the way that feels
It’s as if you know me better
Than I ever knew myself
I love how you can tell
All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me//
Bonus: Kaleo – I want more
Is there such a thing as a warm melancholy? Because that is a vibe I get from that song.
//Turn back, leave all you had
Forgive, I’ll forget
'Cause what we need is what we once had
Time won’t stand still
Just say you will
'Cause I need you there and now
If you leap, I’ll come falling too
Running deep 'til that rivers through
I don’t mind what you have to do
'Cause I won’t think less, less of you
Yes, I want more, more
Looking for more
I want more, more
'Cause I want more
Old grounds
Feels like the weight has been lifted away
So don’t you leave me there wanting more//
Chapter 7: Ben Platt – In case you don’t live forever
I mean it’s not my fault that Ben’s songs make me FEEL things, damn it.
The whole damn song = utter heartbreak when you think about Neil coming back to Reader before he goes back to Stalsk-12 to open that damn lock.
//I, I’ve carried this song in my mind
Listen, it’s echoing in me
But I haven’t helped you to hear it
We, we’ve only got so much time
I’m pretty sure it would kill me
If you didn’t know the pieces of me are pieces of you
I’ve waited way too long to say
Everything you mean to me
In case you don’t live forever, let me tell you now
I love you more than you’ll ever wrap your head around
In case you don’t live forever, let me tell you the truth
I’m everything that I am because of you//
Bonus: Charlene Soraia – Wherever you will go
Why am I doing this to you? Because we all like pain.
This one is for the scene on the deck:
//So lately, been wondering
Who will be there to take my place
When I’m gone you’ll need love to light the shadows on your face
If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all
Then between the sand and stone, could you make it on your own
If I could, then I would
I’ll go wherever you will go
Way up high or down low, I’ll go wherever you will go
And maybe, I’ll find out
A way to make it back someday
To watch you, to guide you through the darkest of your days
If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all
Then I hope there’s someone out there who can bring me back to you//
Bonus: Rhys Lewis – No right to love you
No light, only pain and suffering.
//'Cause I have no right to love you
When I chose to walk away
I have no right to miss you
When I didn’t wanna stay
And I have no right to need you
And I knew what my heart was gonna lose
I have no right to love you
But I do, I still do
Yeah, I still do//
Bonus: Knox Brown x Gallant – Reignite
This song is just so incredible, it makes my palms sweat and my mind going places. Yep, it was on repeat.
Oh you know which scene this one is for.
Bonus: Freya Ridings – Lost without you
The last dialogue. On repeat. Because this song breaks my heart and leaves me a sobbing mess.
//Strangers rushin’ past
Just tryna get home
But you were the only
Safehaven that I’ve known
Hits me at full speed
Feel like I can’t breathe
And nobody knows
This pain inside me
My world is crumbling
I should never
Let you go
I think I’m lost without you//
(OI, SPOILERS)
Chapter 8: Florence + The Machine – Never let me go
I have only one thing to say:
Fuck you, Nolan.
Third out of three.
//And it’s over and I’m going under
But I’m not giving up
I’m just giving in
Oh, slipping underneath
So cold and so sweet
In the arms of the ocean, so sweet and so cold
And all this devotion, well, I never knew at all
And the questions I have for a sinner released
In the arms of the ocean deliver me
(Never let me go, never let me go
Never let me go, never let me go)//
Bonus: Sasha Sloan - Dancing with your ghost
Suffer with me.
//Yelling at the sky
Screaming at the world
Baby, why’d you go away?
I’m still your girl
Holding on too tight
Head up in the clouds
Heaven only knows
Where you are now
How do I love
How do I love again?
How do I trust
How do I trust again?
I stay up all night
Tell myself I’m alright
Baby, you’re just harder to see than most
I put the record on
Wait 'til I hear our song
Every night I’m dancing with your ghost
Every night I’m dancing with your ghost//
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A Puppeteer Rewrite
Adrinette April Day 5 - Statue
Puppeteer 2 is the bane of my fucking existence so I rewrote the iconic “statue scene” because I quite literally died while watching it.
I had to rewatch this goddamned episode because I had repressed it so hard that I completely forgot what happened, so please enjoy this at the expense of my suffering.
@adrinetteapril
Ao3
“Don’t get so hung up over friendship, Adrien.” Plagg flew around his head and leaned on an elbow mid-air. “Friendships wither away, cheese doesn’t!” He mused.
“You don’t get it, Plagg. Marinette’s friendship means a lot to me, I couldn’t bear it if she doesn’t like being around me.” Adrien sighed and closed the elevator doors. “I probably did something stupid to make her uncomfortable.” He brushed a hand through his hair. Man, this was confusing. Was he really this socially inept? Nino was usually pretty easy to understand, but he’d been weird all day. Did Adrien do something to upset all of them? Why was making friends so hard? “I’ve got to make it up to her somehow.” Adrien clenched his fists in determination. He definitely wasn’t going to give up on them.
The elevator doors opened. “How do you plan on doing that?” Plagg asked, following Adrien out of the elevator.
“Well y’know,” he didn’t really know, “by doing friend stuff, getting her to relax around me. Like stuff you do for me, cheering me up,” he scratched Plagg chin making him purr happily, “making jokes, playing pranks,” he gasped. “That’s it!”
“What’s it?” Plagg asked, flipping over onto his back.
“I’ll play a prank on her! Jokes always make me relax, I’m sure it’ll work,” Adrien reasoned.
“Uhh, you sure about that? She seemed pretty terrified of you.” Plagg raised his eyebrow.
“It’ll be fine, Plagg. Don’t worry.” Whenever Adrien was really stressed out about school and all his daily obligations, Plagg would play a prank on him to get him out of his funk. “Now, what's a good prank?” Adrien scratched his chin and looked around the wax museum.
“-be cool, be cool. I’ll be cool, I’m cool, I’m cool!” A door on the other side of the room kicked open with a loud bang. “I am the coolest person on the planet!” Marinette yelled.
Quick Adrien! He formulated a plan. “Hide, Plagg,” Adrien whispered before taking a pose.
“What’re you gonna do?” Plagg hissed into his ear, glancing frantically between the door and Adrien.
“Shhh! It’s a prank!” Adrien whisper yelled back.
“Marinette is the coolest person on the planet, of course she ca- AAAAUGH!” Marinette jumped back at the sight of him, swinging her arms around. She stared at him and then relaxed. “Oh phew, it’s just the statue.” She laughed, wiping her brow. “Didn’t think they’d finish it so fast,” she reached out and touched his hand. “Oh it’s still warm,” her voice quieted to a whisper. “Still war- ah! I shouldn’t touch it!” She swiped her hand away like she was burned. “Ugh, I’m such a klutz,” she sighed and facepalmed, shaking her head. “Doesn’t wax melt to the touch? Or is that just candle wax? Is candle wax the same as wax figure wax?” She tilted her head. “Oh, Marinette, you should’ve listened when the nice tour guide lady was explaining everything. But nooo, you were so caught up in-” she frowned. “No. I’m a cool person, I’ve got to make it up to him.”
Him? Was she talking about him?
“That’s right, I’ve just got to explain everything and,” she started to walk past Adrien. Then she stopped and then began to yell again. “Aaugh! I can’t! I can’t do it!” She scratched her head and spun on her heel. “I’ll just hide out in the bathroom and text Alya to come get me when we leave.” Marinette stuck a hand in the air and made her way towards the bathroom before stopping again. “No! Don’t be a coward Marinette!” She spun quickly on her heel again, eyes shut tightly. Her eyes burst open in a determined rage, staring straight at his chest. He looked away quickly. “Ooohh, why is this so hard?” She put her head in her hands.
Marinette stayed that way for the while. Adrien contemplated scaring her at this point, but the timing wasn’t right. He definitely didn’t plan on her rambling to herself. He was about to move when she perked up.
“Wow, it’s so detailed.” She murmured, peeking between her fingertips. Adrien stiffened. She fell into a squat and poked his shoe. “There’s even scuffs on his shoes, oh and look, his laces are even tied the way he always does them.” She laughed. “The loops are always a little longer than the way Alya ties hers.” She made a little hand motion as she thought out loud.
Adrien blinked. That was a little strange, but Marinette did have an artistic eye, she probably picked up on details like that all the time. He wondered how Nino tied his shoes.
She stood up again and pulled at the fabric of his jacket. “The jacket is Gabriel brand as well,” she chuckled to herself. “Only the highest quality for my son,” she lowered her voice to impersonate his father. She snorted and ran a finger along the seam of his shirt.
Adrien had to use almost all his willpower not to laugh.
“Oh!” She yelped again pulling her hand away. “Don’t touch the statues, Marinette!” She scolded herself and looked up into his eyes. She ghosted a finger along his hair, careful not to touch it. “I wonder how long it took them to get your hair right, Waxdrien.” She laughed at her joke. “I bet it takes a long time for anyone to get your hair right,” she mused. Marinette pauses staring into his eyes. “So green,” she whispered softly.
His eyes twitched to look at her. Was this the right time?
She held her breath and backed away from him, folding her hands behind her back. “Oh Waxdrien, do you know how I can get myself out of this mess?” She glanced at his eyes. “I think I hurt my friend because I was acting super weird.”
She hurt him?
“Think I should practice my apology with you?” She laughed. “Well, it never hurts to prepare,” she scratched her cheek, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.
Should he stop her now? Should he? Adrien was beginning to sweat.
“Okay, Uhh,” she sighed. “Adrien, look, umm, I’m sorry, about what I said. I mean, i- it wasn’t what I meant to say, it came out wrong and that’s my bad, sorry.” She looked up at him and shuffled her feet. “Look, I, Adrien I like you. You’re one of my best friends, and I don't want anything to be weird between us, I was just being weird earlier cause, cause I-” she paused, biting her lip. Looking almost on the verge of tears. “I’m afraid.” She exhaled. “Not of you! No, no you're not scary!” She put her arms out in front of her and shook them reverently. “I’m, I'm afraid of what you think of me.” She cupped her cheeks in her hands. “I really want you to like me, and to not hate me, and I’m really scared that you’ll find me weird or crazy.” She tugged at her pigtails, closed her eyes and shook her head. “So I was trying to make that clear and it came out all wrong and I’m sorry if I made you feel really weird and awkward around me,”
“It’s okay, Marinette,” Adrien whispered.
Her eyes flew open. “DwaAAUGH! Adrien!?” She jumped back again. “Wha- I-“ she gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth. Her face turned a brilliant shade of red, causing a pang of guilt to stab him in the gut.
“Sorry, I was trying to play a prank on you,” he explained, the panic rising in his voice. “I thought it would make you relax around me.” Marinette stared back at him. “I- I thought you were mad at me, sorry.” He scratched the back of his neck.
She relaxed slowly. “Oh, Adrien, I, no no no, I wasn’t mad at you, I just,” she sighed, looking at her feet. “Well I- I guess you know.” She mumbled.
“Sorry about that, I wasn’t expecting,” you too pour your heart out, “well, that.” He grimaced at his lack of eloquence.
“It’s, fine,” she murmured. “What I said was true though.” She looked up at him and tugged her pigtails. “I really appreciate our friendship and I don’t want to ruin it.” She sighed, covering her eyes with her hands. “This wasn’t the way I was expecting to tell you, though.” She said through her fingers.
He laughed. “I appreciate our friendship too.” He took her hands and gently pulled them away from her face. “I was trying to be funny, but I’m not very good at jokes. The girl I like always says they’re bad.” He laughed. Ladybug’s eye rolls had become a constant as he proudly took up the mantle as a superhero wise-crack.
“The, the girl you li-,” Marinette blinked at him, furrowing her brows and turning away.
“Hmm? What was that Marinette?” Adrien walked around her to see her face. “Did I say something?” Oh no, what did he do?
She bit her lip and sighed deeply. “It’s, I- it’s nothing.” She whispered and shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she turned back toward him and smiled. “I’m fine,” she sighed.
“You sure?” He asked. Were people always this hard to read, or was it just his social ineptitude?
“Yeah, yeah,” she shook her head and grinned. “I think your jokes are pretty funny.” She poked him in the chest.
“You do?” He raised his brows and blinked.
“Mhmm,” she hummed. Then her face lit up. “Hey, let's go play a prank on Alya and Ni- Hawkmoth!?” Her eyes blew wide as she stared past him. Adrien swung around to see none other than hawkmoth himself standing by the door. He ran towards them, flipping his cane.
Adrien turned and grabbed an umbrella off the Aurora wax figure, blocking Hawkmoth’s blow with the umbrella. “Go, Marinette! Call for help!” He called behind him.
She frowned and nodded. “Got it!” She ran back to the stairs. They’d have to continue this later.
---
Adrien watched Marinette and Alya talk animatedly from behind the car window. Alya was holding Marinette by the shoulders and reaching up to pet her hair while Marinette laughed and shook her head over and over again. Eventually, Marinette and Alya stopped talking and said their goodbyes. Marinette waved back at them and approached the car. Adrien leaned over the middle seat to quickly open the door for her.
“Thanks,” She mumbled and sat down, fastening her seatbelt.
“No problem, he said absentmindedly. “To Marinette’s house, please.” Adrien tapped his driver on the shoulder. The tower of a man nodded and pulled the car away from the curb.
Adrien glanced at Marinette, who was looking out the window. He should say something. This was getting awkward.
“Umm,” They both said and turned towards each other.
“Oh, you go first,” Adrien gestured for her to speak.
“No, no, you go.” Marinette insisted and shook her head.
“Okay, um,” He scratched the back of his neck. “Well, are we cool?” He asked.
“Hmm?” She hummed, tilting her head.
“I mean, umm,” he sighed. “Sorry. I’m still really new to this having friends thing.” He chuckled dryly. “We’re still friends, right, Marinette?”
“Huh? Oh! Yes, yes of course!” She laughed and shook her head. “We weren’t ever not friends!” Marinette put her hands up. “I- well you know what I said.” She looked away and ducked her head.
Of course, he knew what she said. How would he ever forget? “Right, sorry about that again.” He laughed and facepalmed. “I’m not good at being funny.”
“Hey,” she elbowed him and laughed. “I think you’re fine at being funny.” She covered her mouth and giggled. “Though, pretending to be a statue might not have been the best thing to do at the time.”
“Hey! I was short on time, and I’m not that creative.” Adrien crossed his arms and pouted. She continued to laugh into her hands. “Stop laughing at me!” He cried, laughing with her.
“Why did you do that anyway?” She said between giggles.
“I was, I was worried I’d upset you or something.” He sighed, whenever I’m upset a good joke usually makes me feel better. So I thought, well,” He looked up at her from under his bangs. “Y’know.”
“I’m, I’m surprised you care that much,” she whispered.
“Of course I care,” he took her hand in his. “Your friendship means everything to me, Marinette.” He smiled.
She blinked at him, before melting into a bashful smile. “Thank you, that means a lot.”
“Of course,” he whispered.
“Your friendship means a lot to me as well.” She explained, looking into his eyes.
His driver cleared his throat.
“Oh, uh,” Marinette looked out the window to her house. He didn’t even realize they’d stopped. “Well, um,” She looked back at Adrien and pulled her hand out of his grasp. It was cold without hers. “Friends?” She chuckled, putting her fist up in a fistbump.
“Friends.” He smiled and bumped her hand with his.
“I’ll see you, Adrien.” She opened the car door and unbuckled her seatbelt.
“Thanks for today, Marinette, I’ll see you later.” He waved.
“Of course, bye!” She grinned wide and closed the car door, waving at him through the window as they pulled away.
He propped himself up on the seat to smile at her through the back window. She spotted him and threw her hands up above her head, waving with a wide grin on her face. He chuckled to himself and sat back down. Marinette sure is great, he thought, warmly.
#ml#mlb#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#adrinette#adrinette april#adrinette april 2020#puppeteer 2#puppeteer 2 rewrite#day 5 statue#my writing#ml fic#mlb fic#ml fanfic#mb fanfic
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