A-chan

Sometimes things will devastate you, sometimes you will lose, sometimes the thing you consider to be your purpose in life is taken from you for no reason, and you can scream and complain and ask "why is this happening to me" and then you just have to keep going. There's no use holding onto the past and to the mistakes you have made (because you will make mistakes) you can only make peace with yourself and where you are, find a new purpose and keep picking yourself up again and again and again .

There's no higher meaning so you have to make your own, create a code for yourself and live by it, celebrate the mundane and find meaning in your own way. But most of all remember that every single person you meet is also going through the same shit that you are, so be kind, treat everyone as an equal and do your best to help anyone that you can.

800 years is a long time....

Peeta who could manipulate the Capitol. Who could be so angry when people kept things from him. Who was so cruel when he was hijacked.

Peeta who was KIND. Who burnt bread to give to a starving classmate. Who painted the careers as humans. Who was a baker and a painter and planted flowers to pay respects to [whatever the fuck him and Katniss' dynamic was in Mockingjay] sister.

Peeta who was Katniss' dandelion in the spring. Who could be cruel, could hurt people, and instead chose to be kind. Who chose the hope

The Wretched of the Earth

Discourse On Colonialism

Making Space for Indigenous Feminism

Settlers: The Mythology Of The White Proletariat from Mayflower to Modern

Red Skin, White Masks : Rejecting the Colonial Politics of Recognition

Borderlands/La Frontera

As We Have Always Done

An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States

Books I couldn't find on the archive but still recommend you purchase or check out at the library:

hi y'all! it's been a longgg time coming but i'm so excited to share my first fic in over 10 years (and my first thg fic ever)!

Us Among the Living is a canon-compliant, pre-epilogue growing together fic exploring Katniss and Peeta's relationship as well as their lives in District 12 in the months following the second rebellion. it's gonna be long, it's gonna be a slow burn, and according to @everdares and @belikov, it's gonna cause tears.

i am on temporary hiatus due to personal reasons. however, when i return i will update as much as possible. i hope y'all enjoy <3

update: after sotr comes out i will be making changes to ensure this fic is canon-compliant! depending on how many changes i have to make, i may post the original chapters in another place.

Peeta Mellark is always teased in the fandom for being named after BREAD, which is very humorous. But I think Suzanne Collins was very strategic in naming him after bread. He’s the boy with the bread after all. But theres a reason he’s the boy with the bread.

His bread literally saved Katniss’s life. We all know the story of him purposefully burning bread to give to her. But bread goes further than that. Bread is a very typical food for a starving society, like France before the French Revolution. They wanted bread (bread riots) and Russia in their revolution, it was peace land and bread. Bread is life for starving people. Peeta was Katniss’s bread. Not only by burning the bread for her. He protected her, he was what she desired most, she described feelings of starvation when being away from his touch. When they kissed for REAL she said that was the kind of kiss leaving her wanting more. She was hungry for more. Later on in book 2 or 3 I believe, it is mentioned that Katniss’s favorite of Peeta’s baked goods was bread with melted cheese on it. A small thing but I think it fits. She couldn’t resist when he offered her favorite.

Except, he knows that will mean he will loose the only joy he had in his past life. The one thing that kept him going, the one reason why he didn't join his family in the afterlife. He will loose his son.

Because for all intents and purposes, he raised A-Ling like his own. The best of what he had to give of himself, he gave to that child. How could he make a decision that stole that child from him? To steal the life of his son...?

So, he holds his tongue. He makes a decision.

you can check it on my twitter here

The idea that Zhou is split up into large regions with different ethnic groups (cultural backgrounds and languages) is so fun to me. Like they are one empire, they share a common language and cultural aspects and political system, but I love to have this headcanon of diversity.

I haven't gotten that far in the books cuz I read the official translation and have finished therefore only vol2, so I don't know if there are more details I might keep in mind.

BUT RLLY EVERYTHING THAT IS NOT QUDU HAS LIKE A DISTINCTIVE DIFFERENT FEEL?? ESPECIALLY LIBEI. AND I ALSO THINK BIANJUN PPL. Literally everything at the border you can't tell me the Biansha people are not different ethnic minorities and nEVER have they mixed together with the bordering regions. I refuse to believe they completely stay seperated and just meet when they fight. I feel like there is so much information interwoven for them to never ever mingle.

I'm not saying it happens a lot, I'm saying it probably happened at one point on a scale so small nobody really gave a fvck.

Xie Lian said incoherently, “Actually… … I am the God of Plague. Being close to me will bring you misfortune, so let’s not be friends anymore.” Looking at him, Hua Cheng let out a sigh, “Gege, you are being silly.” Xie Lian insisted, “Haven’t you noticed? Ever since we met, you’ve been bringing me good luck, but I’ve been consistently bringing you bad luck.” Hua Cheng said, “No.” Xie Lian said, “I’m serious. If this continues, I’m afraid one day… …” Suddenly, he bumped into someone’s chest. Hua Cheng pressed him firmly against his own heart, saying almost gently, “Your Highness, it’s not your fault.”

-Book 1 chapt 17. (Revised)

The Deputy State Preceptors blocked Honghong-er, and the State Preceptor backed away, yelling, “Make him leave the mountain, hurry! Don’t touch him, I mean it! That fortune is too toxic; don’t touch him!” The Deputy State Preceptors hurriedly moved aside, and Mu Qing and Feng Xin didn’t know whether to act. Seeing that everyone was avoiding him like he was poisonous vermin, the child was shaken and started thrashing even harder, biting and screaming with all his might. “I’m not! I’m not!! I’M NOT!!!” Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, encircling his small form. A voice came from above his head. “You’re not. I know you’re not. Don’t cry, now. I know you’re not.” The young child pressed his lips closed tightly, grabbing on to the pair of snow-white sleeves around his waist with a desperate grip. He forced himself to hold back for a long time, but in the end, he couldn’t. A stream of tears suddenly rolled down from that round, black eye, and he burst out into sobs. Xie Lian embraced him from behind and reiterated with conviction, “It’s not you. It’s not your fault.”