#that piece of our culture was lost to katniss.

[tomthebassoon]

Ok listen. I'm dying. Reading the hunger games, I was vaguely aware that district 12 was supposed to be located in my homeland, but I didn't fully feel it till I read tbosas. Like, that's Appalachian folk music, baby! The music of my people! Lucy Gray talks like me!! The humidity Snow can't stop bitching about? That's my summer!!!

And then the movie came out and let me tell you, the joy I felt hearing the covey speak. That's my accent on the big screen!!! And of course, the music was just how I imagined it!! Straight up, The Ballad of Lucy Gray Baird was *the same* melody I thought of when reading the book!!! (musicology is my passion ok). Every single song killed me I swear. And the cinematography of district 12! I can imagine my home town like that. I know meadows and lakes just like those. That's my home.

[quincywillows]

like i remember the vitriol that came out when the mere PREMISE for ballad of songbirds and snakes came out bc it was “about the villain” and wasn’t instead a novella of one of the many cute likeable faves of the masses. i remember how fast people were to tear down the book before it even came out (and still do now). and it’s like look, i get it, suzanne created so many interesting characters that it would be incredible to learn more about and get more content for. but her choosing to write about snow for a prequel isn’t like Romanticizing The Villain or whatever bullshit y’all are claiming as hot takes on twitter -- ballad fits right into the common themes and tone of the series in that its not a romanticization but a reflection on how snow became what we know him as in the original series. both in how he already had some less than charming or healthy traits (just like katniss does -- suzanne is always clear that people are not inherently good nor evil and parallels were drawn between how snow and katniss view the world and think strategically, etc, from the second book), but also in how society and the choices of the greater community in panem created snow. like ballad is a really interesting piece of lore and history and worldbuilding for an already rich and elaborate setting that suzanne created, allowing us to see how that world even came to be and the kind of toxic impact it had on the people surviving in it while still pointing out that those people are human and that everyone has humanity and yet can still cause unfathomable harm to one another based on circumstance and need to survive and pressures of all kinds and like i have lost the plot here now but suzanne is one of the best authors of our time who actually gives a shit about creating layered, nuanced characters and worlds rather than black and white good and evil and unfortunately the hyperpolarization of our hot takes social media culture nowadays just can’t handle her anymore. suzanne im so sorry we don’t deserve your storytelling. anyway i’ll be seated for this movie y’all can skip and keep giving lukewarm takes on twitter to make urself seem so smart for hating a book you probably didnt even actually read

[what-if-i-just-did]

Writing Realistic Future Names

You writing something with aliens? Dystopian future? Doctor Who fic? 'Humans are the Weird ones' post? Need names?

Are you, like me, tired of dystopian names which are normal names written dumbly, or futuristic settings with normal names (looking at you Star Trek), or absolute nonsense? Well here's some cool ways to get futuristic names that make sense.

Celeb and Fandom Names

Names like Draco, Hermione, Sherlock, Mycroft, Enola, Benedict, Castiel, Destiel, Jensen, Danneel, Spock, Katniss, Primrose, Teyla, Elsa, Anakin, Loki, Constantine, Jinx, Rhianna, Catra, Adora, Zendaya, Halsey, Misha/Mischa, Korra, Katara, Toph, Cardi, Mabel, Ariel, Whoopi, Madonna, Oprah, Usain etc are gonna become increasingly popular, like they already are, even more so once enough time passes that people stop associating them with certain pieces of media or certain famous people.

Other Language Names

Historically, in different times different countries have a total global influence, and that will effect names. Right now, it's the USA. During the Rennasaince, it was France. We're pretty close to having Japan and other Asian cultures become the next big influence, what with all the anime everyone globally is watching/reading. Now, depending on how far in the future you're writing, add global influence from other countries. Dutch names like Marjolein and Ninthe and Brechtje, pronounced to the accent of the setting of your story. Try to go with cultures who have potential to be big: don't choose some small country somewhere that nobody has ever heard of. Go for Native American or Mexican or Russian or Japanese or Egyptian.

Surnames

Use surnames for first names! A lot of names that used to be surnames are now gender neutral first names, such as Avery. Use surnames! Johnson, Harris, Smith. All of it!

Strange Shortenings

Shorten traditional names in unntraditional ways! Richard always gets shortened to Richie or (for some unfathomable reason) Dick. What about Char? Chard? Those are kick-ass names. Chris for Christian? Cancelled. It's Tian now. Cathy for Catherine? Wrong. Let's make it Rhine. Amy from Amelia? Let's screw with that, turn it into Ammy. You get it.

Pretty Words

People tend to call their children by name of something pretty, and then those names exist untill after the words have lost their meaning. Right now, most of our names are Biblical Hebrew and Latin and Old English/German. We're at the point where slowly, child names are gonna mean things in today's language again. It's already happening a little; Dawn and Hope and Autumn... but give me children called Justice and Fauna and Prime and Amethyst and Earth. Ash and Queen and Happy and Light and Feline. Give me twins called Sapphire and Sapphic, like we call our twins Catherine and Caithlynn or Tim / Timothy and Tom / Thomas now.

Spelling

Spelling is going to shift with the years, and you want your names to reflect this. This one pretty much only works for at least a hundred years into the future. Here's some guidelines of what spelling might become:

t / th = d

s / k = c

ee = i

a = e (sometimes)

y = i (sometimes)

ks = x

o = oe

h = h (add more often)

Examples: Katherine = Caderine, Timothee = Dimoedhi, Blake = Bleke, Susanna = Cucennah etc. Of course, you can do it your own way, or only use some of these guidelines if you want. Feel free to play around with it. If you chose to go for this, keep in mind that there will still be some names in old spelling, just like we still have towns called Kooperdeck and stuff like that. This technique sounds dangerously close to the "say names while your mouth is full of oreos" technique that some dystopian writers use that I hate, but because it's based on logic and what the future might actually be like, as long as you use this in moderation, it'll sound really cool. Out of these examples, Caderine and Bleke are better to use than Dimoedhi and Cucennah, because "Timothee" and "Susanna" have been pretty much lost. If that's what you're looking for though, then that's your thing, I just personally like to be able to see realistic names and eventhough those names are based on logical prediction, they sound made-up.

Gender

You need to pay attention to the percieved gender of names. You can use names that are gendered or slightly gendered right now as gender neutral names. But if you're inventing new names, do pay attention to whatever percieved gender they have in your universe. You can use Chard and Jensen for girls, Caderine and Sapphire for guys. In fact, you should definetly use names like Loki and Earth and Rhine as non-binary names.

Disclaimer: I haven't studied history, and most things I reference here as 'historically, x has happened and is therefore likely to repeat in the future' are just things I've picked up on and heard about and logically deduced, and they could be wrong. However, I consider myself very smart and I really really like history, so you should consider this as a fairly accurate depection. Just know that if someone who actually studied or researched this topic says I'm wrong then I'm probably wrong.

So there you go! How to write realistic future names. Have fun!

[seasonsofeverlark]

Menorah Lights, Blessing of Life

Author: @alliswell21

Prompt: I would LOVE to see some Everlark Hanukkah fluff there’s way to little out there right now. [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: T - for non-explicit: adult situations, childbirth description, and breastfeeding. 

Canon typical violence. Vague reference to a war zone/conflict. 

This work contains religious and cultural imagery and traditions. There’s also some use of the Yiddish language, as well as some Hebrew. There will be a glossary and more in-depth commentary at the end of the fic, when this piece gets cross posted to AO3 in a few days. Peeta makes a quick reference to 1 Samuel 1:27 towards the end part of the fic.

Author’s Note: Thank you, Anon, for this prompt. I have to be honest, and disclose I’ve never witnessed a Hanukkah celebration personally, and most of the events depicted in this story concerning the festival is a product of hours of research. I apologize for any inaccuracies or if I’ve inadvertently misrepresented any cultural or religious aspect of the holiday.

Extensive thanks to @rosefyrefyre​, who was kind enough to beta read, spell check my Hebrew, direct me to some great sites to aid my research, and serve as the best resource for Judaism accuracy I could’ve asked for! Rose, I always learn something from my interactions with you. I’m grateful for your willingness to share your knowledge. 

***Hannah: Hebrew origin. Means: ‘grace’/‘favor’; attributed meaning: ‘He (God) has favoured me with a child’.***

Happy Hanukkah to those celebrating the holiday! 

————-

The house is reverently quiet, despite being crammed to the gills with all our family and friends.

  Peeta checks his watch nervously for the fifth time in ten minutes. He’s so rigid, I know his leg will bother him so much tonight, he’ll take hours to fall asleep. 

  I smile at him, making a mental note to warm some lavender infused oils to massage the stump of his leg. It’s the least I can do for my husband. 

  Peeta lost his lower leg protecting me from shrapnel during an attack while deployed to the Middle East some 16 years ago. I was rendered deaf in my left ear on the same attack…we are a perfect match, my husband and I; he has to wear a prosthetic leg to get around, I have to wear a hearing aid, and that doesn’t even begin to cover the burn marks and other scars we sustained in the service. 

  “I think we should…” he says quietly, motioning to the small table we placed by the window earlier. 

  I turn to my cousin, Johanna, and nod. 

  Jo winks at Peeta and shuts the lights off, while I pull back the curtains from the windows and tie them up, revealing a waning sunset over the rooftops of our neighborhood. 

  Peeta stands a pace behind me, transfixed by the slim line of flaming orange in the horizon being swallowed by deep purples and indigos of the falling night. It’s Peeta’s favorite color. 

  “Almost time, Katniss!” he whispers, giddy, placing a match box on the table at the foot of the menorah. 

  There’s a soft buzz behind us, which means everybody  is shuffling closer to the window. Outside, the world is busy with cars driving by, splashing the dirty slosh of melted snow accumulated on the ground from days ago; a dog barks somewhere in the distance, and a couple of people hustle home; but the thing that really catches my eyes, is that in a few houses down the street, candlelights start to flicker to life on windows and front porches, announcing the start of Hanukkah. 

  “Should—should we do it?” Peeta asks leaning closer to the window pane, clearly seeing the other houses already lighting their candles. 

  “There’s still a sliver of sun. They just can’t see it because they’re facing our way, against it.” I mutter back. 

  This is Peeta’s first Hanukkah as a host, so he’s a little eager. In fact, my beautiful husband was beside himself when everything fell into place for us to host tonight’s celebration. If he could’ve gotten his way, we’d have everyone over to light the menorah the whole eight days of the festival. But, we are expecting the arrival of our very own little miracle any day now, so hosting the first day was a very generous compromise with our family. 

  The thought warms me inside, and I caress my protruding stomach absentmindedly, staring at the darkening sky. 

  The sun finally sinks. “Now!” I grin at my other half. 

  Peeta grins back, handing me the candles. Two of them, to be precise; long and blue. If my Tatte —my father— were here, he would’ve insisted we used olive oil and wicks instead, but it’s only Peeta’s first Hanukkah leading, and he’s so nervous about the whole thing already…candles are perfectly acceptable. 

  First, I place the shamash— “Shamash means helper candle, Katniss,” Tatte would explain— in the middle peg of our menorah, so it sits higher than the rest. Then, I place the one other candle in the rightmost holder, to signify today is the first night of the Festival of Lights. 

  Peeta passes me the matches, and I light the shamash. I smile at him, encouragingly, and mouth the words: “Your turn,” 

  He takes a deep breath, wiggling his fingers at his sides, and then starts reciting the first blessing: “Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha-olam, Asher kid-shanu bi-mitzvo-tav vi-tzee-vanu, Li-had-leek ner shel Chanukah.” 

  His Hebrew isn’t perfect, but he recites the whole prayer exactly as we practiced. 

  My mother, who’s standing with Peeta’s family, translates quietly, to not disrupt too much, “Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us to kindle the Chanukah light.”

  Peeta waits a moment, and then recites the second prayer: “Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha-olam, Shi-asa nee-seem la-avo-teinu, Ba-ya-meem ha-haim baz-man ha-zeh.” 

  Again, my mother translates, “Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who performed miracles for our forefathers in those days, at this time.”

  Peeta’s blue eyes shine joyfully in the dim of night. 

  “Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha-olam, Sheh-he-che-yanu vi-kee-yimanu vi-hee-gee-yanu laz-man ha-zeh.” 

  He finishes the third blessing, which we only say on the first night, with utmost reverence, and holds my gaze for only a second. 

  My mother translates this prayer as well, “Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has granted us life, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this occasion.” She explains this one we only say once, during the first day, but the first two, we recite every night. 

  I take the shamash from its holder and tip the flame into the wick of today’s candle, so it starts the mitzvah of the night. After the light has been kindled, we —the ones in attendance who speak Hebrew— sing Ha-nerot Halalu together. 

  When we finish, my sister, Primrose, starts singing Maoz Tzur, and Peeta turns puppy-dog eyes on me, because he loves my singing.

  I chuckle ruefully before opening my mouth and letting the lyrics spill like second nature. The rest of the attendees join in singing, and suddenly everyone is participating in some way. When the song ends, another one starts, and the atmosphere grows animated and joyful the longer it goes. As it should! 

  Peeta’s brothers came with their families, so he goes to them to chat. My mother has been sitting with them, explaining the proceedings, since it’s the first time they’ve joined us for Hanukkah. 

  The candlelight flickers from the menorah, the only light in the room, just as we finish another song, and then Uncle Haymitch staggers into the middle of the floor, shoving his hands into his pockets. The children peer up with interest, because most of them have known Haymitch long enough to guess what’s to come.

  Haymitch moves his arms just a fraction, and all the kids slip out of their seats like an exhale, and then, the paunchy, ol’ grump is throwing small, shiny, gold disks up towards the ceiling, crowing: “Gelt! Gelt! Gelt for everyone!” 

  “I think he believes he’s some kinda middle-aged, Jewish Oprah!” Blight, Johanna’s husband, cackles somewhere behind me, as the children descend like locusts on the chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil scattered all over the room. 

  Peeta encourages his younger nephews to get in on the fun. 

  Between all three of our siblings, Peeta and I have seven nephews— two of them are teenagers— and one niece. 

  The adults shake their heads and smile from the sidelines, watching the children in merriment.

  When all the gelt has been collected from the floor, Peeta asks the children if they would rather: eat, play dreidel, or hear a story. Since the oldest child in attendance is 8½, the kids settle on a story pretty quick. 

  I sink into the cushions of our plushest chair to watch my husband corral the little ones onto the rug for their story; one of my hands rests lazily on my heavily pregnant belly, while I hold a half eaten sugar cookie in the other one.

  “So…who can tell me what we’re celebrating for the next eight days?” Peeta starts.

  There’s a soft chorus of kiddy voices calling “Hanukkah!”

  “That is right!” Peeta agrees, his eyes are wide, excited, merry, “and Hanukkah is a very important party, because it reminds us of the Miracle of Lights and the victory of the Sons of Israel over the mean ol’ gentiles—“

  “Mamme says gentiles aren’t ‘all’ bad!” cries out Bekka, Johanna and Blight’s little girl, who looks like a carbon copy of her mother, except with long, wavy hair. 

  “Um…you’re right, I should’ve said ‘Greek invaders’ instead of gentiles…my bad—”

  “Uncle Peeta…” one of our nephews— on Peeta’s side— blinks owlishly at him, “What’s a gentile?” 

  “Non-Jewish people,” says Asher, one of Prim’s twins. 

  “Oh…like Muggles are non-magic folk?” asks another of the Mellark boys. 

  “I guess so,” answers the other twin, Aspen.

  “I don’t think we are Jewish,” comments one of Peeta’s nephews, turning inquisitive blue eyes to my husband and then to his own parents, “Are we?”

  “No, buddy, you aren’t a Jew—“

  “Uncle Haymitch says gentiles are helpless,” interrupts Aspen, shaking his head sadly, “He says the goyish thing gentiles do is putting mayo in their pastrami sammiches! So, if neither of you don’t put mayo in your pastrami, then you’re alright. You’re mishpachah, Bran!”

  “Um…what does that mean?” asks Bran.

  “We’re your mishpachah, right, Mamme?” inquires Asher.

  “It means ‘family’,” explains Prim, making the Mellark boys look relieved, and even proud. 

  “Are you a gentile too, Uncle Peeta?” asks Asher, “Uncle Haymitch says you used to be his favorite Shabbos Goy of all times before you married Auntie Katniss.”

  I almost choke on my cookie. 

  Peeta wheezes out a tiny chuckle, but is interrupted by my enraged sister.

  “Boys!” Prim rushes from her chair, her daughter half asleep in her lap; she dumps the toddler into her husband’s arms to stand in front of the twins with her hands on her hips. “That is not nice! What have I said about repeating all the mishegas Uncle Haymitch says?”

  “Not to…” the twins mumble contritely. 

  “Oy! I’m sitting right here, Sunshine!” Haymitch calls out. “Plus, kinder wisdom,” he pronounces it the Yiddish way, like the start of kindergarten, “it’s still wisdom!” 

  The twins are 7, but they can be a menace and clever to boot.

  Haymitch continues, “Everybody knows the Boy used to be pretty helpful back in the day. I was almost sad when Sweetheart finally snatched him up, despite it being the smartest thing she’s ever done,”

  “Haymitch…” I ground a low warning. 

  It’s a well known fact I kept digging my heels in against Peeta’s subtle advances for years, despite having feelings for him myself; I’m grateful my beautiful husband persevered though, because looking at him now, I can confidently say that our marriage, our family, would’ve happened anyway, despite my deep seated fears, the physical and mental toll being in a war zone took on us both, and all the heartbreak in between… 

  Unlike my mother, Peeta did not convert to Judaism in order to marry me. He did that on his own, way before I agreed to make our odd relationship official. I tried to persuade him from converting though— he does love Christmas and bacon— but again, he was committed to our faith with an iron will only the grave can quell. 

  “Eh!” Haymitch waves me off, “Nobody can win with you girls. Not even kvelling about one of your husbands!” 

  I sink deeper into my chair, sufficiently mollified. The old man can gush all about Peeta all he wants, as long as he doesn’t comment on me.

  But Haymitch has a big mouth; he used to give me a hard time for my apparent ‘prickly personality’, often telling me I was so surly, I was practically gornisht helfn—beyond help—and once, he even said, I was as charming as a slug. I retorted he was probably looking at a mirror, and that was the end of that.

  When Peeta started hinting at wanting more out of the casual arrangement we’ve had since the Army, and to my chagrin, two more suitors sprung out of nowhere, Haymitch had the gall to tell me that before Peeta, I was as romantic as dirt. Peeta gave him an earful for that one, though. It was glorious seeing Haymitch properly chastised by his favorite Shabbos Goy.

  I giggle at the memory. 

  I finally relented a couple of years ago, letting my fears go. Haymitch was the first to congratulate me when I announced I was dating Peeta, like a normal couple. My uncle fixed me with a stare that said he expected me to really try, because this boy was a true catch, or as he called him then, “a mensch if he ever saw one.” 

  I happen to agree. 

  I sigh, massaging my ribs where the baby is digging its tuchis in. 

  Haymitch gets away with a great deal of things on the simple account that he was the only person who actually accepted, and welcomed our mother into our family, when she married our father. Everyone else called her an opinionated shiksa behind my parents’ backs, probably thanks to my Bubbe…dear old Grandma really disliked the idea of my father marrying a gentile girl, despite being clear as day how much they loved each other. 

  My sister glares at Haymitch too, then turns to her sons, “It’s the first day of Chanukah, nu?” The boys nod in affirmative, “Then be good, so Uncle Peeta can finish the story—“

  “But, Mamme…we know the story!” 

  Prim gives them The Look and shuts them up right away. “Bannock, Graham, and Bran don’t know the story. They’re our guests, and we are called to be hospitable to everyone, right?” 

  I stare at Prim with mild amusement. She’s such a MOM! 

  “Yes, Mamme.” 

  I wonder if I’ll be able to master ‘the stare’ as well as my baby sister has? 

  Prim told me once, that everything she knows about mothering, she learned from the years in which I took care of her, after our father died, and our mother fell into a debilitating depression that almost killed us all from starvation and hebetude. 

  I have mixed feelings about that assessment, first, because: At first I was just trying to keep our situation hidden from others, so I made sure Prim and I were clean and presentable for school, that all homework was made on time, that we studied our Torah lessons, and that we attended Hebrew school without missing a class. I made sure Prim ate at least once a day, even if that meant I went without.

  There were things I couldn’t provide for my sister, simply because I didn’t know how, and when the pantry was empty, I started secretly raiding the trash containers behind the stores in our neighborhood.

  I was 11 then. 

  That’s when the first and only interaction with Peeta— or as I knew him then: the baker’s son— occurred before the Army. 

  Peeta had been watching me steadily lose weight and figured something wasn’t right. Then he saw how I dove out of his folks’ bakery’s garbage container and emerged empty handed, because trash had already been collected. 

  Instead of sneering, bullying me or calling the police, Peeta gave me two, fresh loaves of bread— the chiefest of foods in our culture— and thanks to his generosity, I figured out how to keep Prim, mother and myself fed when money was tight, hunting squirrels and little birds, long enough for my mother to find the strength to get the help she needed to get better.

  Secondly, in my adult life, I’ve learned to appreciate our mother’s position. She had a really hard time with life in general. Her family turned their back on her when she converted to Judaism, yet people in our community mistrusted her because of my grandma’s own prejudice, the fact that my mother was a nurse and every now and then her hospital wouldn’t (or couldn’t) honor her religious freedom to observe the Shabbat didn’t help her case. People started trusting her after they saw her care for the sick in the community, often paying from her own pocket for their treatments. 

  Peeta never struggled fitting in with my family. Then again, he’s so sweet and friendly with anyone, always so happy and ready to lend a hand…why everyone in our community loves him, and welcomed him with open arms as one of us. Sometimes it’s almost impossible to picture my loving, sweet husband as a seasoned Army veteran, who’s seen his share of destruction and death…then again, maybe it is because he’s seen humanity at its worst that he makes the extra effort to stay a pacifist and he chooses to show The Lord’s love unto others. 

  “Sorry, Peeta, please continue with the story. You’re doing a lovely job!” says my sister.

  I chance a glance at my husband, and see the mirth in his bright, blue eyes. 

  “Thank you Prim,” he says, turning back to the boys, with wonder in his voice. “But, I was thinking, and this might be the best idea I ever had! What if we let the boys tell the story of Hanukkah tonight, since it’s true, they know it better than I do? They are incredibly smart young men!” 

  “Avadeh!” exclaims Haymitch from his spot. 

  The twins wiggle with excitement, and both of them turn eager, hazel eyes to their mother, seeking approval.

  Prim takes a deep breath and nods. 

  Both boys turn their bronze haired heads back to Peeta, enthusiastically. 

  “Alright, go on then, tells us what happened!” Peeta encourages. 

  Asher starts, “The brave heroes, called the Maccabees, kicked out the Greek gentiles that wanted to make the people of Israel pray to their gentile gods! Then the priests came to ‘re-medicate’ the Holy Temple—“

  “Rededicate!” Thom, Prim’s husband, corrects from the back of the room, but the boys are on a roll now.

  “‘Redadecate’ the Holy Temple, by lighting the menorah. So, they looked all over the place, but found only one jar of ‘puridified’ oil—“

  “Purified!” 

  “Yes, what Tatte said! They only found enough of the good oil, to light the menorah for one day!”

  Asher pauses for effect, while all the adults react to the suspense accordingly, gasping and murmuring. 

  Aspen continues the narration after a second. 

  “At first, the priests thought: oh no! We don’t want to light the menorah for only one day, it needs to burn all the time to clean all the filth the Greeks left behind, so we can praise Adonai again!”

  Hushed voices comment their approval. 

  The other twin picks up the story. “But they decided, that even one day, was better than none at all, so they used that little bit of oil, and fired up the lamp, and the lights burned for eight times straight!”

  “Eight days…” corrects Thom.

  “Eight days straight!”

  “It was a miracle!”

  Everyone claps, excitedly. 

  “The priests had time to…” Asher cranes his neck, seeking his father in the crowded living room, and then smiles, enunciating his word with precision, “‘purify’ more olive oil, to add to the menorah from then on!”

  “That’s why we celebrate Hanukkah every year! To remember how our people defended their freedom,”

  “And won back the Holy Temple,”

  “And The Lord accepted their effort with a miracle of lights!” 

  The whole room erupts in cheers and song. Everybody hugs each other in celebration. 

  After a moment, our auntie Effie calls out, “Oh what wonderful storytelling, Tattelles!” She rushes over to the twins and smacks loud, wet kisses, on both of the boys’ cheeks, leaving red lipstick all over their wincing faces. 

  The twins wipe their cheeks with the backs of their hands, and Prim just sighs, hugging her sons to her chest. “Well done, Asher. Well done, Aspen.”

  Peeta pats them both on the head, and ever the attentive host, directs everyone to help themselves to the many treats he made. 

  “Is everything fried?” asks one of Peeta’s sisters-in-law.

  “For the most part,” I hear my mother say, fondly. “To commemorate the miracle of the oil, traditionally, Hanukkah food is fried.” She explains, patiently. “Everything is delicious, and Peeta and Katniss made quite the spread.” 

  My mother busies herself, setting up a stack of napkins on the table where we placed all the food; she then serves latkes to the Mellarks.

  Haymitch grabs her hand and pulls her to sit by me. “Come rest, sit with your daughter, enjoy the lights. I’ll shmooze the bakers now, nu!” 

  My mother comes to sit next to me. She smiles tiredly, “How are you feeling, zeeskeit?” 

  I grin, she’s using the same term of endearment Tatte used to call us. It means ‘sweetheart’.

  “I’m alright. Just a little tired. My back is killing me and I think I have gas, ‘cause my belly keeps rumbling and tensing up.” 

  My mother arches a dark blonde eyebrow, “Maybe the baby is on the way?” 

  “I suppose that could be a possibility,” I shrug. I’m 6 days shy of my due date, but the doctor says I’m healthy, and he expects no complications, whatsoever, plus first time mothers can be early. 

  Thom brings out a dreidel to play with the children. 

  My toddler niece rubs her eyes grumpily— she’s got gray eyes, like my father did. Like mine. Mother and Prim are blonde and blue eyed, but I favored my father in appearance…I wonder who my child will like? I hope it’s a little of both Peeta and I— the girl clings to her father’s arm, watching her brothers and cousins spin the top, suspiciously. Once she realizes gelt is involved in the game, she perks up a little, and tries to spin the dreidel to mixed results. 

  Everyone sits around the children, eating latkes dipped in applesauce or sour cream; Peeta decided not to serve any meat tonight, so we could eat dairy products. Effie is dipping hers in salsa…what an odd woman! 

  Johanna is eating an entire block of cheese, noshing on it like a mouse. 

  Peeta brings me and my mother sufganiyot; he smiles sheepishly. “These were a hit.” He says, “they’ve already disappeared from the tray.”

  I stare at him with wide eyes. “Why does that surprise you, babe? Your cooking is amazing!” 

  Peeta rubs the back of his head, bashful. “Eh, it would be embarrassing if the baker couldn’t handle jelly filled donuts, nu?” he whispers, kneeling in front of my chair. 

  “Nonsense,” I say equally quietly, “you are the most talented person I know.” I kiss him on the forehead, after pushing back the ashy waves of hair falling into his eyes. 

  I hope our child has wavy hair like Peeta does! Mine is boring…not so much the dark as ink color, but the way it’s so thick and straight, the only way to keep it up is in braid.

  Peeta gazes at me with so much love, my heart skips a beat. 

  “Have I told you recently, just how grateful I am to have you as my wife, lover and partner in life?” He reaches up to caress my face, and suddenly the hubbub of the party fades, leaving us in a bubble of our own. 

  “I’m grateful too!” I say, curling my sugar coated fingers around his, cupping my cheek. 

  It’s a veritable miracle that Peeta and I are here today, married and with a child on the way. 

  We grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same schools, and frequented the same places; yet, despite crossing each other’s paths often, and outside the lone time with the bread when we were eleven, we never truly interacted with each other until we found ourselves deployed to the same base overseas.

  Peeta enlisted in the Army fresh out of high school. I enlisted much later, when it became glaringly obvious that if I was going to pursue any higher education, it would have to be paid for by the military, since every penny Mother and I made, went straight into Prim’s Med school fund. 

  Prim took a couple of breaks from school while building her family, but she’s a pediatrician now, beloved by her patients and their parents. 

  Thom is in the field as well, as a Physical Therapist. He was Peeta’s PT for a while; that’s how him and my sister met. They married years before we did. 

  Call it chance or providence, Peeta and I had no idea we were in the same camp, until our names got chosen for some grunt duty I can no longer remember. We recognized one another instantly, and became very close friends while in the service. Close enough to share cots and knock boots when the itch was too unbearable to ignore. We discovered we had more in common than just our hometown, and then…the worst day of our lives happened, cementing our dependence on the other, like only tragedy can. 

  While on a mission, our unit got attacked. Our Commander, a burly man named Boggs, called for extraction while we ran for cover from a volley of bullets raining on us. In the confusion, Boggs stepped on a landmine that blew off both his feet. 

  I rushed to him, pulling him back to safety. I didn’t think of the shrapnel flying everywhere, but Peeta— who had located me a second earlier— did. He made it to me somehow, and shielded my body with his own, earning a mangled leg full of lead for his troubles. 

  Boggs was beyond medical help; the poor man bled to death in my arms in the transport back to base. Peeta was badly hurt, losing blood quicker than anyone in the transport could stomach. I tried to help him as best I could, wishing I had my mother’s touch or Prim’s cleverness; I placed a tourniquet on Peeta’s thigh. It saved his life, but cost him his leg. 

  It wasn’t until we arrived back in camp, and the adrenaline and terror left my body, that I was able to feel my own wounds. I had second degree burns in several places of my body; the fire and heat miraculously spared my face. Then, I noticed the ringing in my left ear wouldn’t go away, and when it did, no other sounds came in. 

  I was honorably discharged for my damaged ear, but I requested to stay close to my buddy, Peeta Mellark, until he was stable enough to go back home. When questioned about this, I simply replied, “We protect each other. Is what we do.” 

  Peeta was discharged too shortly after. We got shipped back home to America together, which is how we’ve been ever since.

  Peeta and I survived against the odds.

  It took us months and lots of counseling to be able to sleep through the night without waking up screaming. 

  It took him years to convince me it was okay to let my guard down around my heart. I was always so scared I’d lose him to some unseen danger, and like my mother, fall into such a deep depression I could harm any potential children we had together, because in my heart of hearts I knew Peeta was it for me.  

  It took us five, ten, fifteen years to be where we are at, and that in itself is a miracle I’m grateful for. 

  “Peeta, darling, the candles are almost out,” says Effie, who apparently is eager to turn the lights back on. 

  “Alright, let’s see…” I stand up to check just how consumed those candles really are, and as soon as I do, my incompetent bladder releases all the pee I have in my body, and then some. “Feh!”

  My mother gasps and pushes Peeta back, who was still kneeling close by. “Katniss, your water just broke!” 

  “What?! Already? Whatdowedo?!” Peeta is frantic, practically jogging in place, hands hovering uselessly around my belly. 

  Effie screeches in a very uncharacteristic fashion. “Oh! What a big, big, big day this is, darlings! Katniss, doll, you might get to hold your very own bundle of joy in your arms on the first day of Hanukkah! What a blessing!” 

  “Well, first things first,” says my mother, going into nurse mode. “Everyone, calm down! This child is not about to drop just yet. Second, Katniss needs to get out of these clothes and into clean ones. Then we need to get you packed and ready to go to the hospital. Peeta, dear, you need to call the doctor, and let them know your wife’s water broke, and you’re heading to the hospital soon.”

  “Okay! Yeah…on it!” says Peeta chewing nervously on his lower lip. 

  He reluctantly steps aside to make the call. By then, my sister is moving people around to get me through the room.

  Delly, Peeta’s sister-in-law, comes from who-knows-where with an armful of towels to mop up the floor. 

  “Thank you,” I offer embarrassedly.

  Delly waves me off, “Oh no, honey, don’t you worry about it. I know how these things go. You have more important stuff to think of right now. We will clean this place up, and probably call on grandma and grandpa Mellark, to let them know.” 

  I give her a hug, because she’s the nicest person I know, and barely hold back an ugly sob. 

  Peeta comes back from calling the doctor just as my mother is helping me into a pair of baggy sweatpants. Prim’s going through my bag triple checking what I packed, despite my protests that both Peeta and I have been checking on it every day for the last week. 

  “Everything is ready, Katniss. The doctor is on the way to the hospital. There’s a triage nurse already waiting for you, our paperwork is being processed as we speak, so all we have to do is sign it when we arrive, and Effie and Haymitch are taking over hosting duties from us.”

  “Oh great!” I sigh, “you can say goodbye to all the wine in the house if those two are in charge,”

  “Is that sarcasm I detect? That means the contractions aren’t even painful yet…” says Prim dryly. Then she and my mother giggle. 

  I glare at them, rubbing the back of my hips, my bones back there kind of burn. 

  Peeta seems confused and wisely keeps his mouth shut. He grabs the hospital bag I packed for me and the baby, a week ago, and shoulders a backpack for himself, he packed almost a month ago. 

  My mother rides with us to the hospital, and since everyone knows her and my sister there, I get extra pampered by the nursing staff. 

  My obstetrician, Dr. Aurelius, checks on me as soon as I’m put in the hospital gown; he’s a little concerned about my blood pressure, so the nurses keep an even closer eye on me. At 32 I’m not at any greater risk of things going wrong than any other mother-to-be, but this is my first child, so I endure their over prodding gratefully. 

  Labor itself goes quickly, only a couple of hours from the water breaking to the crowning. Peeta holds my hand through it all; he tends to me lovingly, feeding me ice chips, blotting sweat from my face and neck, whispering sweet nothings and encouragement into my ear, and when he’s not talking to me or the medical staff, he prays. 

  After surviving a war zone, second degree burns and a few broken bones, I think that giving birth is perhaps the least painful experience of all. Not in the literal sense of course— giving birth physically hurts like a mother!— but in the psychological-emotional sense. I’m going through this trial for love, with the expectation of meeting someone amazing in the end.

  But when it’s time to push, a fear older than time itself chokes me up. “I can’t do this! Let the baby stay in my belly…I can keep the child safe here, please!” 

  “Sweetheart, look at me,” says Peeta cupping my face in his hands, “You are the bravest, most selfless person I know. I’m not denying how scary this is, bringing an innocent into the world, but you’re not alone…we have each other, and we will face this fear like we’ve faced any other fear, and we’ll beat it into dust!” 

  “Together?” My voice wavers.

  “Together!” he vows. 

  “Katniss…the baby’s crowning,” says Dr. Aurelius, “This is it! On your next contraction, I need you to push real hard, alright?”

  I nod, exhausted; Peeta squeezes my hand in his, and I squeeze right back. 

  “Here it comes!” I bear down with all my might and growl all the breath out of my lungs, and suddenly, the best sound in the world fills the delivery room: the meowling of my newborn reaches my ears. 

  “It’s a girl!” calls the doctor from between the stirrups holding my legs up.

  The man holds the screeching child up, so we can see her, and my whole world shrinks to her tiny shape. 

  Peeta is crying. 

  I’m crying too! 

  My mother is somewhere in the background singing something I can’t quite catch, and everyone around is bustling to get my brand new baby girl cleaned up and measured. Then finally she’s placed on my chest, and my husband and I can’t stop staring and caressing her. 

  “Shalom, sheifale,” I sigh in contentment, kissing my baby’s forehead.

  “Welcome, little one!” Peeta murmurs. Our daughter wraps her whole hand around her father’s index finger and holds fast to it. 

  Again, it feels like we are in this hermetic bubble, where only Peeta, myself, and now our newborn, exist. Meanwhile the doctor and nurses are still working on me, but that doesn’t matter. My family is finally whole, and that too is a miracle full of light!

  “Mazel Tov, my dears!” says my mother, smiling at Peeta and me. “I’ll go tell the people in the waiting room the good news…do you have a name picked out already?” she asks tentatively, her face lit with happiness and relief. 

  “Hannah!” says Peeta right away. “For I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted my plea.” Peeta’s eyes widen, then he looks down at me sheepishly, “unless, you have something else in mind?” 

  “No!” I laugh, “Hannah is perfect!” I hold the babe higher on my bosom, and tilt her head towards my mother, “Hannah, say hello to Bubbie Lily, she’s my Mamme, and I am yours!”

  My mother giggles, “Happy birthday, Hannah Mellark, and happy Hanukkah, zeeskeit.” My mother leans closer, and gives Hannah’s head a peck. “Next time I see you, there will be others with me…your mishpachah, who are eager to meet you, sheifale!”

  “We’re almost done here, and you can see some of your family. But be mindful of visiting hours!” says Dr. Aurelius, pushing back from the instrument table. 

  We all say our thanks to the staff, and my mother goes to talk to our family in the waiting room. Peeta’s led to the nursery, to give Hannah her first bath. Once the baby is dressed and swaddled into a hospital blanket, Peeta snaps a couple of pictures of her with his smart phone and sends it to everyone one we know. The caption reads: “Hannah Mellark, because G-d favored us with a child!” 

  The nurse helping Peeta, takes two of those thin hats they give all the newborns, and fashions it into a single hat with a big bow on the front. Our daughter’s head will be warm and stylish.

  Back in the room, Hannah latches onto my breast easily enough, and to our surprise opens her eyes, to show deep blue peepers, like her father’s! 

  “Look, Daddy, she’s got your eyes!“ I exclaim. 

  “Can she call me Tatte?” Peeta asks quietly, as if asking permission.

  I nod, “Hannah, your Tatte gives the best hugs in the world!” 

  The visitors file in. My mother-in-law falls in love with Hannah, her first and only granddaughter. Peeta’s father tears up a little bit, and hugs his son, kissing his temple. I’ve never seen the Mellarks so happy and moved. A baby would do that, I guess. 

  After our siblings come to visit, Effie and Haymitch make a quick appearance. Haymitch holds Hannah the longest; he sings her a song in Hebrew, then says a blessing over her. 

  Effie pulls Peeta aside, “What we discussed…” she says demurely, smiling softly, and hands him a bag. 

  Since she already gave us practically half of Buy Buy Baby at our shower, I have no idea what else she could’ve gotten, but my husband’s entire demeanor lights up like fireworks when he peeks in the bag. He hugs Effie and thanks her profusely. 

  I fall asleep after a while.

  When I wake up again, the room’s mostly dark, except for a soft, flickering light. 

  Hannah is not in her bassinet, so I sit up with a start, only to find the most wonderful scene in front of me: Peeta’s holding the babe by the window looking down the road. The blinds are open, and on the sill sits a child size menorah. The shamash is lit, but the day one candle is not. 

  “Peeta?” I call softly.

  My husband turns, smiling, “You’re awake! We didn’t want to disturb you. You had a hard, busy day, but…” he shrugs, “It’s Hannah’s first Hanukkah, and I figured you wouldn’t wanna miss it,” 

  No, I wouldn’t. 

  I get up, gingerly, and shuffle towards my family. 

  I cock my head and study the candelabra, which looks suspiciously like the kind business owners put in their offices along their Christmas trees and other wintry decor to show how inclusive they are. This one is smaller than regular menorahs, made of plastic, with a cord sticking from the side which is plugged into the wall besides the window. The flickering light I thought at first to be a real flame, is just a small bulb with a candlelight effect. 

  “Where did you get an electric menorah?” I ask skeptically.

  “Effie,” my husband blushes. “She said it was okay, as long as we lit a kosher menorah, which we did at home,” he says a little defensively, with a lot of pleading generously sprinkled in between. 

  My father would’ve frowned at the decidedly un-kosher menorah. 

  Reading my expression, my sneaky husband harrumps, “This is a hospital, Katniss. I don’t think they’ll be thrilled to find there’s an open flame in a room housing a newborn, no matter what holiday you’re celebrating.”

  I sigh. He’s right. Safety protocols should be observed, and we did light a traditional menorah already; plus, this one is practically a toy for the baby…technically a Hanukkah gift. 

  I relax my stance. I wasn’t aware that my shoulders were so tense during that exchange. 

  “Fine,” I acquiesce, “show me how does the thing work?”

  Peeta grins, looking at ease holding our daughter in one arm like a pro. No wonder he’s always our nephews’ and niece’s favorite uncle. 

  He pulls a couple of bulbs from his pants pocket, and holds them on his palm for me to peruse. “All you do is screw these in the small sockets, just like placing the candles in a regular menorah. Then, you press this button, and it lights up!” He points at a small button at the base of the toy. 

  I nod, accepting his explanation. 

  Hannah wiggles a bit in her father’s arm, then makes an aggravated noise. Peeta adjusts the child against his chest, and looks at me, expectantly. 

  “Hannah’s waiting, and she’s probably getting hungry. I should know, I’m her Tatte!” 

  I snort a reluctant laugh. The man can drive me crazy, in an endearing sort of way. How can I deny my family anything?!

  We say the blessings together, then Peeta whispers all the ceremonial rules on lighting the candles to our baby.

  Hannah has her fist wrapped around his finger again, so he picks up the pretend shamash with the same hand, and touches the tip of the bulb into the opening, so— according to him— Hannah is lighting the day one candle herself…symbolically. 

  He screws the bulbs in their right places, and switches the candlelight on. 

  I must admit, it’s not as tacky as I feared it would be. I make a mental note to let Peeta know I’m glad he thought of this, later…probably tomorrow. 

  We sing quietly, not to disturb anyone else on our floor. After the ceremony of the candles is done, we hold onto each other, watching the flickering lights, while Peeta narrates the story of the Maccabees to Hannah. 

  Everything is quiet after that; Hannah fusses once, so I take her into my arms, and sing a lullaby. 

  Peeta has been staring at me all night like I hung the moon in the sky. He gazes at our daughter like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen, and I’m sure my eyes reflect the same feelings as his.

  “I wish I could freeze this moment, right now, and live in it forever.” 

  I smile up at him, who in turn is gazing at our daughter and me with adoration; my heart fills to bursting!

  “I do too!” I stand on tiptoes, and kiss his cheek. “Happy Hanukkah, Peeta. Happy Hanukkah, Hannah.”

  “Same to you too, sweetheart, and thank you Lord, for blessing our family with the miracle of life.”

[jennagill]

Message Not Sent

@jeeno2 reblogged this post (source), @deinde-prandium kindly encouraged me, and @papofglencoe was sweet enough to catch my comma errors.  Thanks for the nudge ladies!

Everlark drabble - bad language, so rated M?

---

“You going to the department holiday party thing?” Gale Hawthorne asks in my general direction.

He is my academic twin, or that's what they call us. Same advisor, same class schedule, and very similar thesis tracks even though he graduated undergrad two years before me. We’re both Dr. Beetee’s prized students, each plucked from the masses of applications for his research team. We even sit side by side in the Research Design course every first year geography grad student has to take, no matter what subdiscipline you study. Physical, cultural, political, climate, medical, or media geography, we all have to sit through it.

I turn to my left to see Peeta Mellark, another first year but polar opposite in studies. He looks up from his reading and adjusts his glasses to see if the question was addressed to him. “Free food and drinks? Yeah, I'm in. What about you, Katniss?”

My eyes flit to Madge Undersee, on the other side of Peeta, and she's already nodding.

“Yeah, sure, I'm in. Just as long as I don't get trapped in conversation with Dr. Crane or one of you will have to rescue me,” I say.

“Agreed,” she smiles. “No one should have to endure that—I don't know how his students take him seriously.”

“No kidding, that guy creeps me out,” Peeta says.

While Gale is my academic twin, I think Madge could be Peeta’s actual identical or at least fraternal twin. They have the same sunny disposition, fair complexion, striking blue eyes, and light hair that's in direct contrast to myself and Gale. We make for an odd group, but most grad classes as like that at the university—attracting students from all over to study under the most prestigious academic leaders.

“Great,” Gale grunts. I'm still not sure if he was asking me, Peeta, or Madge, but it seems that we're all going now.

---

The department has gone all out, renting out the roof of the microbrew pub across from campus. It's a chilly Sonoran night, but there are outdoor gas heaters staged between tables across the space to keep the party guests warm. A hot appetizer station is flanked by the bar, both with long lines. Strands of twinkling lights hover above, giving the otherwise Spartan patio a festive feel.

I catch my reflection in the glass partition and am satisfied with what I see. My favorite hunter green sweater draws out the silver in my eyes, offset by the loose waves of my dark hair. It looked so nice earlier when I pulled off the elastic around the tip of my braid, I just shook it out and added a dab of lip gloss Prim gave me.

I’m lost in the memory when Peeta’s shining face appears on the other side of the wall. He's also dressed in a dark shade of green, but something's different tonight. I've always felt a pull toward him, from our first handshake in the quad. Between our vast differences, shared ideologies, and limited class interactions, I find myself doing the one thing I never set out to do—get close to anyone. I spend a lot of time with Gale out of necessity, and competition for Dr. Beetee’s attention. With Peeta though, it feels more like a choice to want to be around him—one I gladly make time and time again in this first semester of grad school. It still feels like a surprise though when I return his warm smile and tilt my head for him to join me on the patio.

“Hey, Everdeen, you made it! Did you finish your exams?” he asks.

“Yeah, so fucking happy about it too. Did you?”

“Yep, and glad for it. Abernathy's essay was a bitch though. I'm going to make sure he gets good and sauced tonight before he grades it. Are you going home for the holidays?”

“I am, tomorrow. I need to catch the airport shuttle though.”

“Oh, when is your flight? I'm leaving tomorrow as well, midday. You could ride with me.”

“Okay great, that'll save me a little money—thanks!”

“It's a date then,” he grins.

Gale and Madge fight through the crowd just as we've settled our schedule.

“What's a date?” Gale asks, shifting his eyes between Peeta and me.

“Oh, Peeta is taking me to the airport tomorrow—we both fly out around the same time,” I supply. “Did you two get food or drinks yet?”

“No, we just ran into each other coming up the stairs,” Madge explains.

“Wanted to make sure there were allies here first before settling in,” Gale says.

“Well I'm starving, how about we split up—you two get food and we’ll get drinks and meet back up here. A blonde for you and a stout for you?” I direct towards Madge and Gale.

“Yes, please,” she replies and tugs Gale off toward the food before he can object.

“What's with him?” Peeta asks, cocking his head in Gale’s direction.

“You mean the overprotective brother act? I don't know where he gets off on it,” I explain as we skirt the crowd. “I mean, I get that we’re like siblings here. We’re always competing, and he's always so demanding on himself, on me. He sends these gruff texts, gah. I should show you some time.”

“Sounds awful,” Peeta says.

“Yeah, but it usually ends there. We just work together for school.”

---

A few rounds later and many successful attempts at avoiding the creepy professors, Peeta and I are back in line for more drinks.

“Did fucking Johanna Mason cut in line? This line seems like it's getting longer, not shorter!” I shout, over the crowd.

“Katniss, shhhhh,” Peeta laughs. “She's not that far away! And yes, she most definitely did,” he snickers and leans into me. “I think she's getting a drink for Thom too.”

“Hmm,” I press on him to see the pairing over his broad shoulder, since that would be quite the interdepartmental gossip.

I gaze around and just about everyone seems to be feeling the effects of an open bar, myself included. Peeta smells good too— I absently wonder if he used cologne or aftershave. He’s always so fresh in class, but tonight he's exuding a different pheromone. Good thing I live just off campus and can walk home from here.

“Want to get out of here? I mean… go to the downstairs bar?” I stammer when I see surprise light up his face. Glasses! That's what's different about him tonight, he's not wearing his glasses. “Maybe there's a shorter line?”

“Um yeah, that's a good idea,” he agrees and lets me lead him away from the party.

“So no glasses tonight?” I ask, navigating the stairs.

“Ah no, figured I'd spruce up for the party.”

“Well you look nice,” I blurt out, and a wicked grin spreads across his face.

“You are beautiful tonight too, always beautiful,” he says, and I know the rosy glow spreading across my cheeks is more than the Hefeweizens I've had tonight.

We weave through the thinner crowd downstairs to the bar when I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I fish it out to check the text while Peeta orders another round.

WHERE

ARE

YOU

GUYS

I scowl at my screen, re-reading the burst transmissions again and verifying the source. Gale. Gah. I told him we were getting more fucking drinks, right? I start typing my response.

WE’RE

FUCKING

“Hey, can you carry Madge’s? And here's yours,” Peeta says as he steers two more beers toward me.

“Hang on a sec, gotta finish this,” I say and scramble to finish my reply. Punching ‘send’ on every word like he did to amplify my irritation.

GETTING

DRINKS

And I shove my phone into my back pocket to help carry the beers. We move slower through the crowd to get back to the stairs, careful not to spill. We reach the top riser, and I feel my phone ping again.

“Hold up, I wonder what he fucking needs now,” I grumble.

WHAT THE FUCK

“‘What the fuck?’, what does he mean, ‘what the fuck’?” I think aloud as I read and re-read the message. I look out from the stairwell and can't see where we left him and Madge. I scan the screen again. “Oh fuck.”

“What is it?” Peeta asks, concern creeping across his face.

“Apparently we’re fucking!” I laugh, hastily placing the beers down so I don't drop them.

“Oh are we now?” he says, setting down the other beers.

“Yeah, the last two texts I sent didn't go through...so all he got was ‘we’re fucking.’”

Peeta barks out a laugh and we catch ourselves in a fit of hysteria.

“Well how bad am I that you're texting while I'm fucking you?” He asks through chuckles.

I'm hiccuping through my giggles now. “You must be pretty fucking terrible!”

“And how can we be fucking if we haven't even kissed yet?” he asks with a more serious tone.

A shift in energy rolls over me, taking in his words and piecing together their meaning. “Well, you should definitely kiss me first,” I say, all traces of humor vaporized. Emboldened by the alcohol buzzing through my system, I lean to his lips.

And it isn't terrible at all.

[booksaremyoxygenn]

Ready Player One: Book Review & Discussion

“We’d been born into an ugly world, and the OASIS was our one happy refuge.”

If you love video games and the 80s, you MUST read this book. USA Today’s comparison of Ready Player One to Willie Wonka & the Chocolate Factory couldn't have been more spot on, but instead of the inheritance of a man who owns a chocolate factory he is playing for the inheritance of a video game creator.

Overall Rating: 4.5 / 5 Stars

My biggest argument is that because there was so much info and teaching about the 80s and video game references it felt choppy and it was hard to get lost in the book. However I absolutely loved learning all of those fascinating pieces of information. There were surprisingly many great life lessons in this book and I feel like I am walking away more knowledgeable. 

Age Recommendation: Well.... it depends on the child. It does curse a few times (but let’s be honest the kids already know the words, the aim isn’t for them not to learn it but to know not to use it.) However there is a bit of a lengthy section on things I would not even want my 13 year old sister reading on 193-194 so I recommend you take their book, rip that page out and then they are all ready to go. They will never even miss it. I think there are great life lessons in this book though for a young teen age group like the importance of logging off and living offline and not getting wrapped up in trying to constantly escape the real world. It talks about how people should be judged by their personality not their appearance. If we could simply choose out skin color, gender, and appearance like an avatar, life would be easier but life doesn’t work that way so accept people the way they are. You may surprise yourself with who your closest friends up being. 

Spoiler- Free Review: 

Wade just really doesn’t like his lot in life, whether that be in the real world when he’d rather be in a video game or that he is in the 2040s when he’d rather be born in the the 80s, or at the least before the Global Energy Crisis. Though he doesn’t mind living in OASIS soaking up the endless knowledge. The vast source of all books, movies, art, history, videogames, and, most importantly, information on James Halliday. OASIS is like the internet but with VR glasses only 10x more detailed, advanced, and infinite. Wade doesn’t even go to a real school he goes through the virtual reality of OASIS. “In OASIS, you could become whomever and whatever you wanted to be, without ever revealing your true identity, because your anonymity was guaranteed.” (pg 57) When James Halliday, inventor of OASIS, dies and leaves his fortune (240 billion dollars) to the first player to find the three keys hidden within his own video game, the world goes crazy in pursuit. Though after numerous years no one had found a single key, until Wade. That’s how the story begins. 

I loved that Cline’s writing encourages readers who know nothing about the 80s or video games to read this book. That has been a massive concern for people before they pick up this book, that they won’t understand the references. To be honest, there were many hidden “eggs” in the text that I saw that I knew were references that I just didn’t understand. (Which was still cool and I enjoyed looking them up and learning more.) However, all of the big, important references he explains in the book and he doesn’t make you feel stupid for not knowing but explains it clearly for those of us who aren’t experts. I genuinely feel more intelligent by reading this book and now know a lot more about pop culture in the 80s. Who knows this all may come in handy on Trivia Night? I highly recommend this book for a fun, nostalgic read. 

SPOILER Review / Book Discussion: 

Isn’t it scary how possible this all could be? With virtual reality continually advancing (in real life) how much longer will it take until people go to school in virtual reality like Wade or before the internet takes on this new form?

Though obviously in Wade’s world as technology has advanced his real world has been given up on. The stacks, while a great concept and super cool looking on the front cover, are atrocious living conditions. Though I must give Wade kutos on his battery powered heater and computer but really just his van in general. It makes me want to make my own Bat Cave inside a van. This was when I knew what his advantage would be in this game, he was a self-teacher, self-motivator, and dedicated his whole life to the hunt. 

One of my favorite parts about Cline’s writing was how it was constantly breaking stereotypes and speaking about important topics. I really appreciated the backstory that he gave Halliday. Especially how even though he wasn’t good at school he became a multi-billionaire. I am so tired of the assumption that being good at school has a direct correlation with future success. So many people who have changed the world never went to college, dropped out, or did poorly in high school. Another thing that I loved was the fact that this whole story wouldn’t have happened if Ogden Marrow (Og) wouldn’t have walked over to Halliday when he was sitting alone and invited him to play Dungeons and Dragons. It reminds me how much can change by a simple act of kindness and stepping out of your comfort zone to talk to new people. This whole story wouldn’t have happened, their world may have been drastically different if it wasn’t for Og’s invite. My favorite part though was how he had Asperger’s autism because my older brother has it as well and I could see the connections. Halliday’s lack of desire to express social skills, inability to step into other people’s shoes, and his few unhealthy obsessions were the most common traits. However I wish he wouldn’t have made the connections between Halliday’s crazy side and his Aspergers because that gives a bad name to this type of autism. (I mean you can’t win every battle right?)

One thing that really bothered my is how indifferent Wade was to risking everyone’s lives in the Stacks during his meeting with IOI. Once he realized he wasn’t actually gambling his own life because he wasn’t at home then it didn’t bother him anymore. He was willing to risk that. I understand that his aunt was cruel to him and that there were thieves and rapists roaming around the stacks but that’s not a good enough excuse as to why his conscious was clear about all those people he played a part in murdering. He said that there were no survivors. I understand that his other option was be enslaved to IOI but he is very smart, he could have figured out an alternative where hundreds of uninvolved people don’t die. (pg 146)

I personally love when authors put deep meaning into characters, places, animals and other things’ names. I loved that Art3mis was the greek god of the hunt and that Wade was Parzival. “On the day the Hunt began, the day I’d decided to become a gunter, I’d renamed my avatar Parzival, after the knight of Arthurian legend who had found the Holy Grail.” (pg 28) I love when author’s twist different stories together like that and give character’s deeply meaningful names. Like Alaska in John Green’s Looking for Alaska, or Katniss from The Hunger Games whose name is from a plant that is latin for archer. I prefer a bit more meaning than when Rainbow Rowell named the twins in Fangirl Cath and Wren because the mother didn’t know she was going to have twins so she split up the name Catherine. Though I do apprecaite it more than when authors just randomly name thier characters. (Also, Darth Vader’s name is literally Dark Father in Dutch so his name is a spoiler in itself.) I applaud Cline for his good choice in names. 

The first task was where players went into the Tomb of Horrors from Dungeons & Dragons to play Joust against Acereak. It was amusing to me but as someone who doesn’t know the first thing about Dungeons and Dragons the references were lost on me. However this line really stuck me as funny..... “It suddenly occurred to me just how absurd this scene was: a guy wearing a suit of armor, standing next to an undead king, both hunched over controls of a classic arcade game.” (pg 82) The whole time after he met Acererak I just imagined him going from his scary, glowing eyes to his best friend playing a video game and them fist bumping each other. Like I genuinely wanted them to become friends. Haha.

The first gate was where players played Dungeons of Daggorath to open the gate where they had to say and act all the lines of the character David Lightman in the film WarGames. This was my favorite task / gate he had to do and I wish I had my own version for The Hunger Games where I could be Katniss. Anyone else agree? They called them “Fliksyncs” (112) and I genuinely think if they make something like it in real life, it could be my favorite invention of all time. You would get to walk, talk, and live the life of your favorite character, your heroes, or be 1/2 of your favorite OTPs. ( I would gladly be Clary to play besides Jace from The Mortal Instruments... just putting it out there.)

A really important message that spread throughout the span of the book was that the internet (OASIS in RPO’s case) can take over our lives. ”It had become a self-imposed prison for humanity,” he wrote, “A pleasant place for the world to hide from its problems while human civilization slowly collapses, primarily due to neglect.” (pg 120) How much truer does that get?? Than once Wade won the egg even Halliday admitted that that was one of his biggest regrets, not logging off and living life the way it was meant to be, truly using your senses and awakening your body instead of constantly trying to mute it and hide yourself.  “I created the OASIS because I never felt at home in the real world. I didn’t know how to connect with the people there. I was afraid, for all all of my life. Right up until I knew it was ending. That was when I realized, as terrifying and painful as reality can be. it is also the only place where you can find true happiness. Because reality is real. Do you understand?” (pg 364) I think that is something people across the globe can relate to. We could all use a lesson in learning when to turn off our screens and fully engage in the world around us. 

Another really important message was during that OH MY GOSH! AECH REVEAL!.... which at first I felt like it changed everything but that’s the whole point, it didn’t change anything. She was still the same person she had always been. We see what we want to see in a person when we make assumptions about them from what they look like. It’s just a genuine reminder of how the lines between gender are so fluid and it doesn’t matter what you are born but how you act. I’m not even referencing transgender specifically but just boys being free to like pink and girls feeling free to be obsessed with Star Wars and video games. Though there was another lesson in this which was how she chose to be a white, male avatar, because her mother told her it would help her get treated better, even in the virtual world.  “In Marie’s opinion, the OASIS was the best thing that had ever happened to both women and people of color. From the very start, Marie has used a white male avatar to conduct all of her online business, because of the marked difference it made in how she was treated and the opportunities she was given.” (pg 320) Why is this so painfully true?? I really loved what Wade said after he found out,  “We’d connected on a purely mental level. I understood her, trusted her, and loved her as a friend. None of that had changed, or could be changed by anything as inconsequential as her gender, or skin color, or sexual orientation.” (pg 321) Though I will admit I am glad that Cline made Ache a lesbian because I was worried she was going to confess her love to him and then Wade would have to choose.... and there just wasn’t enough pages left in the book for all that drama. Plus I really love when books allow guys and girls to just be friends without every liking each other romantically. 

The final thing, that I wouldn’t dream of ending this review/discussion without talking about is... Art3mis. Can we talk about how she started out such a strong character who was a fighter, independent blogger and full time badass who knows exactly how she plans on saving the world with the prize money from the egg. But then as time goes on she transforms more into a love interest than a fierce competitor. I think she sees this as well which is why she leaves him to focus on the competition. Though at the very end when she finally meets Wade in person she does that thing that Reese Witherspoon talks about in her Woman of the Year speech. Where Art3mis, the female,  turns to Wade, the male, and pretty much says, what do we do now? This is a phrase Reese says she hates reading the most and is usually written by scripts with no female involved in the writing.  She says “Now you do you know any woman in any crisis situation.. who has absolutely no idea what to do?” Reese made a good point in saying that it’s top woman stop playing the damsel in distress because we so rarely are. Art3mis went from this total badass who could carry her own to a self conscious, love interest. However, I am so glad that Art3mis gave up Wade for the hunt in some ways because if she would have given up her passions and her life long goal for a boy, I would have been more insulted. Personally, I just really like strong, female leads and am getting tired of women being accessories to males. I’m also tired of the never ending line of self conscious characters (both female and male) who find their self worth and beauty once their romantic interests informs them that it exists. So thank you to characters like Celaena Sardothien, Alaska Young, and Margo Roth Spiegelman for showing the world that it’s cool to love yourself and know you are amazing. Though I was still rooting for Art3metis because of her strong will and good intentions for the prize. 

In the end everything seemed to fall perfectly in place which made me so happy. No loose threads and a beautiful, sappy, happy ever after. The character development for Wade was so great and I felt happy walking away from this book knowing that things were going well for him. 

Favorite Quotes: 

1.) How the protagonist, Wade, feels about video games is how I feel about books...

"Playing old video games never failed to clear my mind and set me at ease. If I was feeling depressed or frustrated about my lot in life, all I had to do was tap the Player One button, and my worries would instantly slip away as my mind focused itself on the relentless pixelated onslaught on the screen in front of me. There, inside the game's two-dimensional universe, life was simple" (pg 14)

2.) Me when I get into a good book series....

“I was obsessed. I wouldn’t quit. My grades suffered. I didn’t care.”  (pg 63)

3.)  “Spending time with her was intoxicating. We seemed to have everything in common. We shared the same interests. We were driven by the same goal. She got all my jokes. She made me laugh. She made me think. She changed the way I saw the world. I’d never had such a powerful, immediate connection with another human being before. Not even with Aech.” (pg 174) 

4.) “I was watching a collection of vintage ‘80′s commercials when I paused to wonder why cereal manufacturers no longer included toy prizes inside every box. It was a tragedy, in my opinion. Another sign that civilization was going straight down the tubes.” (pg 176)

5.)  “And then one night, like a complete idiot, I told her how I felt.” (pg 179)

6.) “No one in the world ever gets what they want and that’s beautiful.” (pg 199)  

7.) “I stood outside her palace gates for two solid hours, with a boombox over my head, blasting “In Your Eyes” by Peter gabriel at full volume.” (pg 203)

8.) “Art3mis had led me to believe that she was somehow hideous but now I saw that nothing could have been further from the truth. To my eyes, the birthmark did absolutely nothing to diminish her beauty. If anything, the face I saw in the photo seemed even more beautiful to me than that of her avatar, because I knew it was this one was real.” (pg 292)

9.)  “In Marie’s opinion, the OASIS was the best thing that had ever happened to both women and people of color. From the very start, Marie has used a white male avatar to conduct all of her online business, because of the marked difference it made in how she was treated and the opportunities she was given.” (pg 320)

10.)  “We’d connected on a purely mental level. I understood her, trusted her, and loved her as a friend. None of that had changed, or could be changed by anything as inconsequential as her gender, or skin color, or sexual orientation. (pg 321)

Discussion Questions: 

1.) Would you apply for the virtual OASIS education like Wade?

When Wade talks about his classes and how he is able to travel through a human heart, visit the Louvre, Jupiter’s moons and more it makes me think that our education system could be so much better with this technology. For one, he discusses how discipline isn’t a problem, how Wade can mute out bullies, and how even the teachers liked the system so much more. It gives students the ability to do things like Wade did and go to chat rooms with his friends in his free time and hang out with people he likes and avoid / mute the ones he doesn’t. I think there are major problems like affordability and the fact that you miss out on real human interaction that scientists have proven is needed for a healthy mind, body, and soul. 

2.) If you were a gunter, would you join a clan or stay solo? 

In the end I think that part of the lesson Holliday was trying to teach is that you need other people to succeed. You need help and can’t do everything on your own. Why else would he have made the door only open with three keys?

3.) If you were Wade would you sell out to sponsors, movie and book people, and the Suxors? or would you risk it all on the chance of being the first to find the egg?

4.)  What movie would you want to enter into like Wade did for the first gate for a “Syncflik”? Could you complete the dialogue for a whole movie?

5.) Did they fake drink at the bar at Og’s party because they hadn’t ever been able to eat or drink inside the OASIS before? 

6.) Has social media become obsolete in their world or is the avatar practically their form of social media? Or instead of trying to impress people with how they went to the beach or the expensive Louis Vuittons they just bought, do they put their energy into impressing through their OASIS accounts?

7.) Doesn’t IOI trying to capitalize on OASIS sound a lot like the government trying to end net neutrality? I think this whole story is a lot more realistic than most of us would like to admit to ourselves. (pg 33)

Movie Trailer: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSp1dM2Vj48 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Scj3wiIcSu0&t=115s

I really hope they keep the Rocky Horror Show scene (pg 179) in the movie because I want to see them have fun and be laid back together. Plus it would be really funny. It was super entertaining in Perks of Being A Wallflower when Charlie has to be in the show. Also, I saw the zero gravity dance floor and the revamped Delorean in the movie trailer and can’t wait to see more of that. (pg 182)

The only thing that would make me immediately hate this movie is if they don’t give Art3mis her birthmark and so far in the trailer I noticed that they have only distinctly shown one side of her face but in the clip where she is sitting in a chair across from Wade you can see most of her face and I didn’t see any scar. What a missed opportunity? Unless they are having her cover it in the first half of the movie with makeup or something. The greatest parts of this book were the lessons learned and I think him meaning that he would love her no matter what she looked like in person because he loved who she was is a crucial part of the story and the birthmark plays a large role in that. It was an opportunity to give people who had similar situations like birthmarks have someone that looked like them in a movie to relate to. I think it really could have been something special. 

The other thing that is a bit of a turn off is the body form they gave Ache in the movie because it means that she won’t be able to have that moment talking about how she chose a white, male avatar because of how she felt at a disadvantage as a African American woman and wanted her avatar to be able to escape that. Also the actress they cast is thin so it is another missed opportunity. 

Also the choice of the song from Willy Wonka “Pure Imagination” was genius for the trailer. It was beyond perfect!

Side Note:

Also, if you would like to watch part 2 of this book... it’s called WALL-E. There are different characters but it is definitely what Wade’s planet earth is going to look like very soon. They were all absorbed in the internet and forgot about real life and how to make connections, just like this book. I mean Wade even notices his weight gain from being overly absorbed into the game. (pg 196)

[aion-rsa]

Hunger Games Prequel Novel Reveals a Surprising Main Character

https://ift.tt/2On1CVo

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Suzanne Collins's Hunger Games prequel novel, arrives in May 2020.

facebook

twitter

tumblr

The Hunger Games is readying a return to the pop culture panorama in the form of a prequel novel, which will see author Suzanne Collins revisit the dystopian society of Panem, except at a time well before Katniss Everdeen even existed, much less ignited the titular contest as "The Girl on Fire."

Indeed, Collins’s franchise follow-up will manifest as a prequel novel set on Panem during the period known as "the Dark Days," taking place some 64 years before the story we know. The long-awaited continuation of the literary franchise was first teased back in June 2019, during which its May 2020 release date was set, with Scholastic subsequently unveiling the book cover months later, revealing the title as The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

In the latest news on Hunger Games prequel The Ballad of Songs and Snakes, the story's protagonist has been revealed, and it's a surprisingly familiar one!

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Story

Coriolanus Snow has been revealed as the main character of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. – Yes, Coriolanus Snow, the eventual president of Panem, and devious despot of The Hunger Games story who (as memorably played by Donald Sutherland in the films,) gleefully kept the cogs of the oppressive wheel turning, and was public enemy #1 to Katniss and her rebellion. However, this book will follow Snow as a young man who’s looking ahead to his University days.

Breaking some big book news today @EW...! https://t.co/iz0BFt2R3t

— David Canfield (@davidcanfield97) January 21, 2020

The crucial story detail was dropped by EW, which has released a book excerpt and piece of art (depicted in the above tweet,) showing a fresh-faced young man (who looks a hell of a lot like a young Donald Sutherland), who’s affable, charming and even heroic; far from the tyrant we’d come to know in the book trilogy (and film quartet). Indeed, the story will follow young Coriolanus as an accomplished academic who’s already involved in the Hunger Games, serving as a mentor; an effort that – despite his being born to privilege – he hopes will lead to a crucial University scholarship. However, he’s apparently searching for a different path than one for which he’s on track.

As revealed earlier, the new novel is set on Panem (post-apocalyptic North America) 64 years before the events of Collins's 100 million-selling trilogy – 2008’s The Hunger Games, 2009’s Catching Fire and 2010’s Mockingjay – which, of course, were the basis for Lionsgate’s box-office-breaking film adaptations starring Jennifer Lawrence – released successively in 2012, 2013, with the final story split into two films, released in 2014 and 2015. While those novels depicted the exploits of Katniss Everdeen, who became a symbol of hope for a starving populace once kept docile by the annual games – eventually leading to a successful revolution – the prequel will chronicle a failed early populace revolt known as “the Dark Days.” As Collins explained last year in a statement of the direction of the prequel:

“With this book, I wanted to explore the state of nature, who we are, and what we perceive is required for our survival. The reconstruction period 10 years after the war, commonly referred to as the Dark Days — as the country of Panem struggles back to its feet — provides fertile ground for characters to grapple with these questions and thereby define their views of humanity.”

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Cover

Here's the official cover for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Release Date

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is set to arrive on May 19, 2020.

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Movie

Of course, the inevitable destination for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is a movie, and the plans are already quietly in the works behind the scenes.

Publisher Scholastic (who undoubtedly sport a collective grin with dollar signs in their eyes,) chimed in on the June 2019 announcement of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes book, with Scholastic Trade Publishing President Ellie Berger lauding:

“Suzanne Collins is a master at combining brilliant storytelling, superb world building, breathtaking suspense, and social commentary. We are absolutely thrilled — as both readers and publishers — to introduce the devoted fans of the series and a new audience to an entirely new perspective on this modern classic.”

Also likely sporting a collective grin with dollar signs in their eyes is studio Lionsgate, which – after vice chairman Michael Burns previously toyed around with prequel plans – wasted no time at all telegraphing its movie adaptation intentions. While no official agreements were confirmed, Lionsgate Motion Picture Group chairman Joe Drake said in a statement to AP:

“As the proud home of the Hunger Games movies, we can hardly wait for Suzanne’s next book to be published. We’ve been communicating with her during the writing process and we look forward to continuing to work closely with her on the movie.”

The Hunger Games original trilogy was inspired by what Collins saw as a disturbing pop culture intersection between the ubiquity of reality television, and what was on the news – specifically, at the time, footage of the invasion of Iraq. Thus, a dystopian dynamic was envisioned, in which those elements became the bread and circuses utilized by a totalitarian government to distract a starving populace. With the first book chronicling the events of the 74th Hunger Games – the annual event in which lottery-drawn teens compete in a live-broadcasted outdoor arena deathmatch – the prequel’s 64-year-back time setting will showcase a time when the Games were only around for a decade, with a first-generation populace who have yet to accept said contest as the norm. Indeed, as Collins further explains:

“We have so much programming coming at us all the time. Is it too much? Are we becoming desensitized to the entire experience?" She adds, "Dystopian stories are places where you can play out the scenarios in your head — your anxieties — and see what might come of them. And, hopefully, as a young person, with the possibilities of the future waiting for you, you’re thinking about how to head these things off.”

We will certainly keep you updated on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (and its inevitable movie prospects) as the news arrives!

Joseph Baxter is a contributor for Den of Geek and Syfy Wire. You can find his work here. Follow him on Twitter @josbaxter.

Read and download the Den of Geek Lost In Space Special Edition Magazine right here!

facebook

twitter

tumblr

News

Movies

Joseph Baxter

Jan 21, 2020

Hunger Games

Lionsgate

from Books https://ift.tt/2sL25Zb

[withheartfulloflove]

Getting lucky (Love in Panem New Author’s challenge)

I’ve honestly tried to finish the story in time, but life happened((( And sadly it didn’t agree with my plans. This story was originally started as a birthday present for one of the most lovely ladies I’ve met in my life - @madamemarquise. I wasn’t happy with it, because it was supposed to be much better, so when @loveinpanem offered this wonderful challenge to help new authors, I decided to join)) My deepest gratitude goes to my amazing mentor @burkygirl. Your advice and encouragement are invaluable! Thank you!

This story was supposed to be a one-shot, but turns out it will be a short series in 3-4 parts. Rating: T. Enjoy!

Getting lucky

Coming home to Peeta was always the best part of any day for Katniss.

After hours upon hours spent working with people and keeping her customer-friendly smile on at all times, walking over the threshold of their small apartment was a true joy. And smiling because Peeta was already home, making something delicious she could smell all the way from the door, felt so much better than smiling because her manager threatened to lower her pay if she continued to scowl at people.

But that day there were no tell-tale signs of a meal cooking in the kitchen, and instead of the customary clatter of dishes in the sink, she could hear the distant clatter of Peeta typing something. He was still in the t-shirt he usually wore under his apron, and there was a bit of floor on the back of his neck. It looked like he was searching for something, as he kept clicking on different links, his gaze fixed on the screen.  He was obviously very interested in whatever he was doing, considering he didn't even notice Katniss was already home. Getting behind him quietly, she saw him searching hotels in Paris. “Going somewhere?” she whispered, making him jump right out of his chair.

“Katniss! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Peeta took a deep calming breath. “Why are you home so early?” He checked his watch. “Oh, I can't believe it's so late already. I must've lost track of time. Do you mind ordering pizza? I haven't even started on dinner,” he said sheepishly.

“Sure!” Katniss settled into Peeta’s vacated chair. “Will you tell me what this is all about?” She asked while flicking open another tab and choosing their neighborhood pizza place from their favorites.  She began to type in their order.

“Please don't laugh! I know it's silly, but I kind of came across this contest. We describe our dream vacation, and if we win, we get to go with all expenses paid,” Peeta explained with a small, hopeful smile.

“You do realize our chances of winning are practically non-existent? Neither one of us is particularly lucky. And nothing ever comes easily to us. The odds aren't exactly in our favor.”

“I know, I know… I just thought it would be nice to imagine it, kind of like traveling in our own minds? Please? It's not like we need to pay to enter, and we can have fun looking up the most ridiculous destinations or something,” Peeta pleaded. And he was right, as usual. No harm could come from spending one evening looking up places they will never get to see for real, and pretending they were going on an adventure.

The ultimate question was where to go. Assuming they won the contest, money ceased to be a problem, so they were only limited by their imaginations.

“New Zealand? We could go see the Shire.” Katniss chewed on her piece of pizza thoughtfully.

“I'm not sure I'm willing to spend a once in a lifetime opportunity on Hobbits,” Peeta chuckled softly. “And it's literally the other side of the world.”

“Okay, so Australia is out too, I guess. South America?”

“We could probably manage to go there ourselves someday. I was thinking Europe. We could go to Paris,” Peeta offered a bit shyly.

“Isn't Paris a bit cliche? It's pretty much the go-to romantic getaway.”

“Yeah, well, that's because it's amazing! We could see so much, Katniss! Just think about it!”

“So what, we spend two weeks going from one museum to the next? I'm not sure I'll survive that much culture and art, Peeta.”

“How about we split it then? One week in Paris, and for the other we do whatever you want? Please?”

“Fine.” Katniss kissed him softly. “France and neighboring countries then?”

Peeta's wide smile was her answer.

With their destination in mind, figuring out the schedule, flight connections, looking up apartments (and arguing whether the location of said apartments was more important than their interior design), writing down all the attractions they wanted to visit and all the things they wanted to experience in Paris was easy enough. Peeta took over the writing part, and in a couple hours Katniss was reading a thrilling tale of their Parisienne vacation-to be.

“Where should we spend the second part of our vacation?” Peeta wondered, nuzzling Katniss's neck, as they were lying in bed. She sighed in response, snuggling deeper into his embrace.  “Katniss? I've seen how you looked at all the pictures of the mountains we've come across. Do you want to go hiking in the Alps?”

“No. Yes? I'm not sure how comfortable it would be for your leg. You are still getting used to this new prosthetic. And I want you to enjoy yourself, not exhaust yourself. Hiking in the mountains is ...well, they are mountains, so it would be demanding.”

Katniss kept rambling looking at his chest as new possible obstacles continued to invade her mind.

“Hey, it would be okay! I love you! Thank you for thinking of my comfort first, but I could do it, I promise! If you can brave museums, I'm more than willing to try the mountains. I can already walk long enough distances, so with a little more practice I'll be fine. Perhaps I'll have to skip the most dangerous trails, but I'm sure I'll manage the rest of them.”

“Thank you! And I love you! So much!” Katniss wrapped Peeta in a fierce hug, grateful for his willingness to take on such a formidable challenge. With a promise to figure out the details the next day, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, a smile on their faces.

The next day, they picked out a cozy chalet close to Annecy. Katniss looked through all the trails available in the vicinity of the little village they chose, and found many that would easily work for her and Peeta. She knew it was silly to get so excited over a vacation they would likely never take, but somehow, figuring out how they wanted to spend their time together had brought them so much closer.

After hitting the submit button, she tried to focus on the here and now, without getting her hopes up. It was a great dream, but that was all it was.

Hopefully you liked the first part of my little story)) I’ll try my best to post the next part in a few days. Have a wonderful weekend!