Currently reading The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, hereās my reactions so far and maybe some commentary:
On the second page and miss Suzanne Collins shows us immediately that this is who Snow just is. Thinking that about your cousin is crazy. Someone who loved and cared for you since you were a child btw. Page 4
āWas Coriolanusās place about to be usurped by someone who calls his mother as āMaā?ā I guess this part shows how he thinks his standing in society always belonged to himāeven though it was from his fatherās legacy or family. The series likes to point out or give emphasis about the connection of their parents and their children. And here, Snow is immediately showing his distaste for Sejanus, his bitter thoughts about him. He loves talking about his District status whenever he disses him and how he got his place from being āluckyā because of his parents even though Snow is the same thing? The only difference is heās not reaping any huge benefits or what Snow expected to get from it. Also, all that hate because Sejanus calls his own mother āMaā š thatās his mom. Page 20
āIf you didnāt see it here, it didnāt happen.ā From the Capitol News slogan. Well, holy propaganda. The fact they actually achieved that, too. Funny how things happen because the government had complete authority of what the mass views. Page 48
āWithout turning he knew it was the girl, his girl,ā I think this is one of the first instances where Snow acknowledges that Lucy Gray is something of his property which I guess was due to Dean Highbottomās choice of words during his assigning of tributes. But knowing Snow, itās definitely his own mindset. Page 49
āLucy Gray was one thing belonging to Coriolanus that he [Sejanus] would never, ever get.ā Another instance where Snow thinks of Lucy Gray as property or something that belongs to him (wow heās really possessive, isnāt he?) This is probably where Snow thinks of Lucy Gray as more valuable because she was something Sejanus wanted. Page 75
The farmer not being with their parents since theyāre far away and tending to the farm now, being invited by Jodi, which you unlock with her heart event is so sweet ToT
Also, since Iām pursuing Sam, this does make me feel like Iām being accepted by the family already lol but still, even if you donāt plan to pursue Sam, this is a very kind and thoughtful gesture from Jodi. Youāre accepted in the town and in a family
suzanne did not hold back with her parallels... because WHAT DO YOU MEAN it is katniss and finnick stuck in the jabberjay trap in the quell. it is katniss and finnick who have to hear their loved one's screams. it is katniss and finnick who can't do anything about it.
and just as it happens, it is katniss and finnick who are trapped in district thirteen. completely helpless as snow dangles their lovers just out of reach. letting katniss see peeta deteriorate in real time.
just enough to see that they are hurt. just enough to remind them they can't do anything about it. just enough to make them go insane. tik tok tik tok tik tok.
Drinking at the Stardrop Saloon was a routine Shane had always done everyday without fail. After a shift at JojaMart, he enters the saloon and sits on the stool at the very corner of the bar and without mention, Gus, the owner, serves him a glass of beer.
"Thanks," Shane grumbles and takes a sip of the beer.
Before he finishes his glass, someone enters, swinging the door open with a parsnip in her hand. It was the farmer. Shane recalls. It was obvious from her overalls and the dirt aesthetic she had acquired from a whole day of taking care of the farm. She had been here for two seasons and everyday, like him, she visits the saloon. But unlike him who goes here to drink everyday, she takes the opportunity to chat with everyone.
"Aw, thank you, kid." Pam, the other local drunk that also visits everyday, beams at the farmer as she takes a bite of the admittedly soil-covered parsnip the farmer had given her.
The farmer smiles and looks around as it was seemingly empty. It was too early in the afternoon for customers to pour in that her eyes had no choice but to lock in with Shane's, the only other person in the saloon.
When their eyes meet, Shane looks away and sips his glass of beer. It was tempting to gulp it all down and order one more, but he decides to take it easy today. One less glass for the day, maybe. Yet he fails and opens his mouth, about to ask for another when he realizes the farmer was still there and was now speaking to Gus who was drying off the glasses in his rack with a towel.
"Oh, hold on. Let me just give Shane a refill." He tells the farmer when he notices Shane's empty glass and his faraway look that had his eyes on them, watching and half-drunk already.
"Okay." The farmer chirps as she watches Gus give Shane a new glass filled to the brim with beer from the keg.
Shane was also watching Gus make his glass as when he finally receives his order, the farmer and his eyes meet again. He grumbles and looks away, like all of the encounters they had. Even when he was walking through town on the way to Joja as he passes her by with rudeness as he ignores her. He didn't care for her, truly. Or anyone for that matter. Anyone but one.
Grabbing the glass and another muttered thank you to Gus, Shane's eyes darts again at the farmer. And he looks away.
She had been staring at him and due to his recklessness and disobedient eyes that she may realize he was deliberately ignoring her gaze.
The farmer then smiles and shyly waves at him, unsure to attempt talking to him like she does most of the time. It was evidently clear that he didn't want to talk with her with how he often frowns and grumbles and his short replies and of course: his plain dialogue of actually telling the farmer that he doesn't want to. After a few rounds of those, when fall came by, she realized she hadn't talked to him since spring.
"Hi."
Shane looks up from his glass and sees the farmer in front of him. She had hopped off the stool and now stands in front of him. Looking to talk to him, Shane guesses.
"ā¦Why are you bothering me? I want to be alone." He furrows his eyebrows.
"Here." She gives him a glass of beer and walks away, talking to Leah who had just walked in the saloon. Shane had gulped one too many beers that his face had turned red, at least, he hopes it did. He didn't want her too see that he appreciated her "gift" as it were.
"I know you're a prickly one, Shaneā¦" Like how a bartender begins to give life lessons and needed advices, Gus stands a few stools away from the side of the bar, continuing to wipe off the never-ending glasses that Emily, the blue-haired bartender, had dropped off a few moments ago. "ā¦But, you're not close with anyone here in town."
"I'm close with you." Shane furrows his eyebrows.
Gus lightly chuckles and shakes his head. "You're my customer, Shane. Sure, you get drunk and I help you when you're vomiting or too drunk to leave the Saloon, mumbling and stumblingā¦" He trails off and sighs, putting down a glass on a tray. "You don't tell me anything. Not that we're obliged to be friends once you pour your heart out to someone, I would still want you to be able to tell me your grievances. I know you're going through things withā¦Jasā"
"I'm close with Pam." Shane raises his glass across the bar towards a passed out blonde and middle-aged woman. Her face has planted on the wooden table. Gus turns his head and quickly comes to her aid.
"Oh, geez, Pamā¦" He mutters as he tries to position her head that wouldn't let her choke on the vomit that would inevitably come. Something Shane was all too familiar with.
He looks to the bottom of his glass. It was empty. He hadn't realized all the sips he was taking had been gulps. Huge gulps. He wondered if he could still even afford a few more nights like this, drinking until morning. It would be hard on his pockets, harder for his liver, harder for Jas to see him like this. But they rarely do ever see each other now, don't they?
If he left now, would he be able to read her stories as they did? Maybe go out to see the stars. He was sure Marnie wouldn't allow her to leave too late at night. She probably misses the stars that clouded the sky right about now. He recalls her hands that were as small as his pinky that tried its best to reach out as if wanting to touch the stars, to hold it in her hands and cherish it forever.
He burps.
And orders another glass of beer.
A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Not entirely sure if I should post it on ao3, but I am thinking about it.
I wanted to write a Shane fic since I wanted to show how most players would usually go for Shane first given how heās probably the first few characters players would interact with. But even so, his story is very interesting and beautiful that I wanted to share more of what Shane is (to me in my headcanons) and how much of an influence us, the players, and in-game, the farmer influences Shane.
Basically, I wanted to show more of Jas and Shaneās relationship, Shaneās story, interactions of the characters within the valley, etc.
There's something so meaningful about Katniss associating Peeta with dandelions, especially when you take into account the way Peeta is viewed by others throughout the trilogy and how dandelions are viewed in real life.
Dandelions are considered by many people to be weeds. They're not toxic, but they're eyesores in any perfect garden or lawn; they spread fast due to the way they seed, so they're considered invasive; their one useāattracting pollenatorsāis negated by the fact that their pollen is low in nutrients.
In other words, they're useless. They're pests.
Peeta throughout canon is treated similarly. It's a repeated theme that he is always brushed aside and disregarded in some way, second best to someone or something else. He's the third son. His mother deems him inadequate, he loses to his brother in wrestling, his father always wanted a daughter. Haymitch saves Katniss over him in the first games, the rebellion saves Katniss over him in the Quell. Peeta, in the eyes of others, inculding himself, has very little value. It's partially why in Catching Fire he says on the beach, "Nobody needs me."
And yet, we see how Katniss views dandelions, just as she views Peeta. To Katniss, dandelions are a sign of spring, the first bit of food bees get after winter, a sign of cultivation and new life on the horizon. They mean being sustained, for every bit of a dandelion is edible. They represent hope. To Katniss, dandelions are beautiful.
Peeta is her dandelion. He takes a beating to feed her when she's starving. The bread he gives her is enough to keep her alive for when spring comes, and she can forage in the woods. At her lowest, most cynical, and most suicidal, Peeta returns to her and plants a garden outside her window so that she can mourn in peace, and bakes her bread for breakfast the next morning so she can eat. So she can live.
There is so much in the text that shows us how valuable Katniss finds Peeta. To her, Peeta is incredibly kind, talented, and intelligent. He's a wordsmith. He's her hope. He's beautiful.
But I think it's best expressed in Catching Fire, in response to Peeta's assessment of his worth: "It's true his family doesn't need him. They will mourn him, as will a handful of friends. But they will get on. Even Haymitch, with the help of a lot of white liquor, will get on. I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me.
I let out a muffled shriek when I find myself to the ground, a heavy weight on my chest exhausting me further. My hands were pinned by his feet. I could feel them going numb as I continue to flail. He had his hands around my neck and I could feel his nails digging even further.
I stare at the boy in front of me. He had a scowl on his face, eyebrows that furrowed further as if he had a personal vendetta against me. I remember him. The boy from 5. As my mentor said. There was no point in going by names as I was going to kill them, anyway.
But I remember him. And them.
There were four other tributes left. Boy from 1, Boy from 4, Girl from 7, andā¦ Boy from 5. He wasnāt necessarily good, not on par with any of the rest left. Or even the ones that didnāt make it. So I donāt understand how he could have gotten this far.
He had, what, a 6 to his name? He had strength, some skills, and maybe a few techniques.
His breathing was off. He looked as if he couldnāt concentrate and like something was banging in his head. I look to his belt. There were no canister or any container that could hold water. No one sent him anything. Couldnāt even grab one from the other tributes?
I gasped for air and find all the strength in me to move my body as I try to push him off with my legs. He yelps from shock and falls beside me. My hands were shaky from the numbness and I couldnāt get them to move, much less grab the dagger from my boot.
So I do something.
My teeth had dug into his neck, and I could feel the vibration from his shriek. I tore his skin off. He falls and wriggles, reaching for his torn neck. Blood spews from it, but not enough to have made him weak or unmoving. Yet it did.
Then, I noticed the long, cylindrical, metallic shape on the side of his belt. It was a spile. He couldnāt have been dehydrated to be this weak or distracted. Could it have been something from the Games?
Blood drips from my mouth, and I know the Capitol and the Districts are watching me. Their eyes glued to the screen or maybe turned away from it. I could taste the iron, but I don't rinse it off or wipe it away. A feeling in my chest weighed heavily, not the kind where the boy from 5 decided to sit on top of me, but something I had never felt extremely before.
It's different from when you're wielding a knife, a bow, or a weapon when you take someone's life. It's different when you do it yourself. Something the boy from 5 seemed to be willing to do. And me.
Female Farmer x Shane (Stardew Valley Fan Fiction)
These are the first few paragraphs for my fanfic :pp
Drinking at the Stardrop Saloon was a routine Shane had always done everyday without fail. After a shift at Joja Mart, he enters the saloon and sits on the stool at the very corner of the bar and without mention, Gus, the owner of Stardrop Saloon, serves him a glass of beer.
"Thanks," Shane grumbles and takes a sip of the beer.
Before he finishes his glass, a person enters the saloon, a parsnip in her hand. It was the farmer, Shane recalls. It was obvious from her overalls and the dirt aesthetic she had acquired from a whole day of taking care of the farm. She had been here for two seasons and everyday, like him, she enters and linger. But unlike him who goes here to drink everyday, she takes the opportunity to chat with everyone.
"Aw, thank you, kid." Pam, the other local drunk that comes here everyday, beams at the farmer as she takes a bite of the admittedly soil-covered parsnip the farmer had given her.
The farmer smiles and looks around the seemingly empty saloon. It was too early in the afternoon for customer to pour in that her eyes had no choice but to lock in with Shane's, the only other person here.
