fic: tell me your name, is it sweet? // katniss everdeen // the hunger games (hockey fusion)
LOL PRESERVING THIS FOR POSTERITY. it's becky's birthday so i wrote her some blackhawks/thg fusiony business. katniss is kaner, don't look at me like that. (finnick is sidney crosby, johanna is geno, jack johnson is annie cresta, BOOM I WIN ALL THE THINGS.)
tell me your name, is it sweet?
katniss everdeen. (peeta, gale, haymitch, cinna.)
pg.
Katniss started playing hockey when she was five. The funny thing is, she can’t even blame Canada for it; she’s from Buffalo, which is technically the States. She doesn’t even know why she picked it up; probably it was her dad’s idea, he’d been into it as a kid, before his life got too busy. (He’s Canadian, crossed the border for Katniss’ mom. Love stories are gross and Katniss hates them.)
Katniss learned very quickly that she liked hitting the other kids, especially when they were bigger than she was, especially when they were boys. It didn’t make her popular, exactly, but at least it got her Gale Hawthorne, who up until he got consigned to fuckin’ Edmonton and Katniss got drafted by bottom-of-the-barrel Chicago, was her best friend. Katniss doesn’t really hit people anymore. She’s kind of small, lost any chance at equality she might have had when puberty hit and un-equalized everything, leaving Katniss wholly reliant on speed and skill, and also Gale, to do the job of an excellent d-man-slash-shield and get between her and who the fuck ever else wanted to smash her into the boards for being a chick in the wrong sport.
(Katniss still really likes hitting people. She just keeps it on the down low because she’s managed to not break any teeth in all her time playing this stupidly violent sport and she’d like to keep it that way. She’s a better sniper than she would be an enforcer though, let’s be real. She’s a fucking great sniper.)
Peeta is Canadian, obviously. Peeta bakes in his spare time, and distributes that baking to the homeless; there’s no fucking way he wouldn’t be. Peeta is from Winnipeg, and he is blond and charming and incredibly sweet, and everyone loves him. Canadian hockeybots: all brilliant hockey, homegrown humility and white perfectly teeth. Who isn’t into that?
Katniss. Katniss can take or leave him. She’s not easily charmed, and she hates being manipulated.
She just wants to play the game, man. All this drama, all this PR stuff - it’s bullshit and she hates it, and she’s also fucking terrible at it. It’d be easier if Peeta was any worse at it, but he’s not, the camera fucking loves him and so does their entire terrible team.
Katniss is eighteen when she gets drafted by the Chicago Mockingjays, who are so bad that their games aren’t even shown on TV. The consolation is that she goes first, which is a record and gratifying, frankly, but it’s pretty shitty as far as consolations go. (Gale claps her on the shoulder as she gets up, mutters, I guess I’ll see you in the summer; Katniss mutters back, that’s if the franchise doesn’t fold before then.)
Cinna, the general manager, gives her the jersey and shakes her hand. He seems like a nice guy, she thinks, but seriously. She has an okay fake smile is what she thinks when she’s on stage; when she looks at the pictures afterwards she’s honestly impressed that Cinna didn’t flip out because she straight-up looked like she wanted to murder him.
Chicago’s a mess, for real. Katniss was not overreacting. There’s very little money, no fanbase, and the stadium’s busted. There’s not even much of a core: there’s Peeta, who isn’t even playing yet because he’s been in college learning things and being a nice guy, probably; Haymitch Abernathy, who got traded from Philly for being too good for Philly, essentially, but now is only remotely competent when you can sober him up, which is if you’re lucky, once every five or so games. Cato and Clove come in the draft after Katniss; they’re the defense core and they’re all right, not spectacular, but they’re also eighteen, so. Their coach is Seneca Crane, who, to be honest, gives Katniss the motts, but she's dealt with worse, will deal with worse. He seems to know his way around a line arrangement. She hopes.
Cinna is at least a good guy; he’s smart and wry and tells it like it is, doesn’t seem too rattled by Katniss’ overwhelming disregard for everyone about Chicago National League Hockey. He lets her stay with him - well, in his guest house, which has a different entrance with different locks, not that Katniss is feeling shady. Cinna’s pretty gay. (Reason #241 that Chicago Mockingjays hockey is a trainwreck shitshow doomed to fail.)
“Look,” he says to her, that first night, “we think this could be good. We think we have a chance to make something, you’re just going to have to commit to the rebuild.”
This is essentially what everyone told her during the interviews. She was pretty honest; she said she wouldn’t give a fuck as long as she could play. She figured she’d have a better chance of ice time in the NHL out here on a shitty team anyway - Detroit, for instance, would stick her down in the minors forever - and it’s not like her family can’t use the money.
Katniss says, “I just want to play, you know?” She knows she sounds like a dumb jock but it’s the truth. She just wants to play and make her little sister proud.
“I know,” Cinna says. He does look like maybe he gets it. “It’s just - we need a strategy to get people to watch. Peeta Mellark, he said he thought you might have good chemistry. That kind of chemistry, that’s something we can sell.”
They do training camp and a bunch of interviews. Katniss makes the team; Peeta makes the team. Nobody is surprised by any of it.
Peeta goes on TV and he says, “I really love being on the same team as Katniss Everdeen. Playing on a line with her is the most privileged I’ve ever been.”
Katniss doesn’t know who the host is - some blonde woman with perfectly coiffed hair. “Do you have a crush on her gameplay?” she asks. It’s supposed to be teasing, Katniss thinks, probably.
Peeta laughs, covers his mouth, goes bright red. “I think I have a crush on her,” he says.
They’re watching it in the bar. Katniss is eating bar nuts because she fucking needs to keep the weight on.
“Fuck no,” she says. “Fuck.”
Haymitch Abernathy is wasted, because he’s always wasted, because this team is a joke. “Good luck with that,” he says, laughing. “PR’s what we needed and you’re good, Everdeen, but this story’s better.”
Cinna says, “Why do you dislike him so much?”
“I don’t,” Katniss says. “We’re totally best friends. I’m really excited to get to play with him, I’m sure we’re going to bring back glory to Chicago.”
“Whoa,” Cinna says. “The enthusiasm, it’s killing me.”
Katniss smirks.
Here’s the thing, though: Katniss doesn’t actually hate Peeta. It’s weird because she thinks he probably doesn’t remember, but then again, it was World Juniors, so he should remember, right? It was a big deal. She remembers all of it, every moment.
They were in the semis, USA and Canada; she hadn’t had any points but that was okay, she would deal with it. Nobody was predicting that she would go first, except maybe some bookies trying to drum up some drama. Gale was on his team, because Gale was Canadian by birth, had moved to Buffalo as a kid.
The clock was running down on the end of the third period. The US was one down and Katniss was down by her own net. Peeta, this year’s draft’s third pick to Chicago, had a clear shot, Frazee looking the other way, five-hole clearly open.
He looked at her, and he passed her the puck.
It went to shootout, after. The US didn’t win but Katniss - Katniss got a point, Katniss had tied up the game.
She didn’t need him, really; she kicked ass in the bronze medal match, two assists and a goal to take it home, but she couldn’t shake the memory of his eyes, sharp and blue as a summer sky.
tell me your name, is it sweet?
katniss everdeen. (peeta, gale, haymitch, cinna.)
pg.
Katniss started playing hockey when she was five. The funny thing is, she can’t even blame Canada for it; she’s from Buffalo, which is technically the States. She doesn’t even know why she picked it up; probably it was her dad’s idea, he’d been into it as a kid, before his life got too busy. (He’s Canadian, crossed the border for Katniss’ mom. Love stories are gross and Katniss hates them.)
Katniss learned very quickly that she liked hitting the other kids, especially when they were bigger than she was, especially when they were boys. It didn’t make her popular, exactly, but at least it got her Gale Hawthorne, who up until he got consigned to fuckin’ Edmonton and Katniss got drafted by bottom-of-the-barrel Chicago, was her best friend. Katniss doesn’t really hit people anymore. She’s kind of small, lost any chance at equality she might have had when puberty hit and un-equalized everything, leaving Katniss wholly reliant on speed and skill, and also Gale, to do the job of an excellent d-man-slash-shield and get between her and who the fuck ever else wanted to smash her into the boards for being a chick in the wrong sport.
(Katniss still really likes hitting people. She just keeps it on the down low because she’s managed to not break any teeth in all her time playing this stupidly violent sport and she’d like to keep it that way. She’s a better sniper than she would be an enforcer though, let’s be real. She’s a fucking great sniper.)
Peeta is Canadian, obviously. Peeta bakes in his spare time, and distributes that baking to the homeless; there’s no fucking way he wouldn’t be. Peeta is from Winnipeg, and he is blond and charming and incredibly sweet, and everyone loves him. Canadian hockeybots: all brilliant hockey, homegrown humility and white perfectly teeth. Who isn’t into that?
Katniss. Katniss can take or leave him. She’s not easily charmed, and she hates being manipulated.
She just wants to play the game, man. All this drama, all this PR stuff - it’s bullshit and she hates it, and she’s also fucking terrible at it. It’d be easier if Peeta was any worse at it, but he’s not, the camera fucking loves him and so does their entire terrible team.
Katniss is eighteen when she gets drafted by the Chicago Mockingjays, who are so bad that their games aren’t even shown on TV. The consolation is that she goes first, which is a record and gratifying, frankly, but it’s pretty shitty as far as consolations go. (Gale claps her on the shoulder as she gets up, mutters, I guess I’ll see you in the summer; Katniss mutters back, that’s if the franchise doesn’t fold before then.)
Cinna, the general manager, gives her the jersey and shakes her hand. He seems like a nice guy, she thinks, but seriously. She has an okay fake smile is what she thinks when she’s on stage; when she looks at the pictures afterwards she’s honestly impressed that Cinna didn’t flip out because she straight-up looked like she wanted to murder him.
Chicago’s a mess, for real. Katniss was not overreacting. There’s very little money, no fanbase, and the stadium’s busted. There’s not even much of a core: there’s Peeta, who isn’t even playing yet because he’s been in college learning things and being a nice guy, probably; Haymitch Abernathy, who got traded from Philly for being too good for Philly, essentially, but now is only remotely competent when you can sober him up, which is if you’re lucky, once every five or so games. Cato and Clove come in the draft after Katniss; they’re the defense core and they’re all right, not spectacular, but they’re also eighteen, so. Their coach is Seneca Crane, who, to be honest, gives Katniss the motts, but she's dealt with worse, will deal with worse. He seems to know his way around a line arrangement. She hopes.
Cinna is at least a good guy; he’s smart and wry and tells it like it is, doesn’t seem too rattled by Katniss’ overwhelming disregard for everyone about Chicago National League Hockey. He lets her stay with him - well, in his guest house, which has a different entrance with different locks, not that Katniss is feeling shady. Cinna’s pretty gay. (Reason #241 that Chicago Mockingjays hockey is a trainwreck shitshow doomed to fail.)
“Look,” he says to her, that first night, “we think this could be good. We think we have a chance to make something, you’re just going to have to commit to the rebuild.”
This is essentially what everyone told her during the interviews. She was pretty honest; she said she wouldn’t give a fuck as long as she could play. She figured she’d have a better chance of ice time in the NHL out here on a shitty team anyway - Detroit, for instance, would stick her down in the minors forever - and it’s not like her family can’t use the money.
Katniss says, “I just want to play, you know?” She knows she sounds like a dumb jock but it’s the truth. She just wants to play and make her little sister proud.
“I know,” Cinna says. He does look like maybe he gets it. “It’s just - we need a strategy to get people to watch. Peeta Mellark, he said he thought you might have good chemistry. That kind of chemistry, that’s something we can sell.”
They do training camp and a bunch of interviews. Katniss makes the team; Peeta makes the team. Nobody is surprised by any of it.
Peeta goes on TV and he says, “I really love being on the same team as Katniss Everdeen. Playing on a line with her is the most privileged I’ve ever been.”
Katniss doesn’t know who the host is - some blonde woman with perfectly coiffed hair. “Do you have a crush on her gameplay?” she asks. It’s supposed to be teasing, Katniss thinks, probably.
Peeta laughs, covers his mouth, goes bright red. “I think I have a crush on her,” he says.
They’re watching it in the bar. Katniss is eating bar nuts because she fucking needs to keep the weight on.
“Fuck no,” she says. “Fuck.”
Haymitch Abernathy is wasted, because he’s always wasted, because this team is a joke. “Good luck with that,” he says, laughing. “PR’s what we needed and you’re good, Everdeen, but this story’s better.”
Cinna says, “Why do you dislike him so much?”
“I don’t,” Katniss says. “We’re totally best friends. I’m really excited to get to play with him, I’m sure we’re going to bring back glory to Chicago.”
“Whoa,” Cinna says. “The enthusiasm, it’s killing me.”
Katniss smirks.
Here’s the thing, though: Katniss doesn’t actually hate Peeta. It’s weird because she thinks he probably doesn’t remember, but then again, it was World Juniors, so he should remember, right? It was a big deal. She remembers all of it, every moment.
They were in the semis, USA and Canada; she hadn’t had any points but that was okay, she would deal with it. Nobody was predicting that she would go first, except maybe some bookies trying to drum up some drama. Gale was on his team, because Gale was Canadian by birth, had moved to Buffalo as a kid.
The clock was running down on the end of the third period. The US was one down and Katniss was down by her own net. Peeta, this year’s draft’s third pick to Chicago, had a clear shot, Frazee looking the other way, five-hole clearly open.
He looked at her, and he passed her the puck.
It went to shootout, after. The US didn’t win but Katniss - Katniss got a point, Katniss had tied up the game.
She didn’t need him, really; she kicked ass in the bronze medal match, two assists and a goal to take it home, but she couldn’t shake the memory of his eyes, sharp and blue as a summer sky.