i don't do bad sauce passes
NASA
almost home
art blog(derogatory)
we're not kids anymore.
todays bird
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Kiana Khansmith
Sweet Seals For You, Always
@theartofmadeline
$LAYYYTER
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Claire Keane
ellievsbear
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
RMH
Origami Around
blake kathryn
occasionally subtle
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Bolivia
seen from United States
@doughbcy
001. carrd --- 002. headcanons --- 003. aesthetics --- 004. main blog
independent, solo sideblog, semi-divergent book-canon peeta mellark from the hunger games trilogy.
please read the cardd before interacting. guidelines are mandatory.
NOTE: this character is canonically exposed to traumatic events and will be written as such. be cautious of the fact that possible triggering subjects will not always be tagged accordingly.
mains: accepting
psd credit
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Originally posted by itty-bitty-meme-committee
Send 💋 to get a kiss from my muse. The more 💋💋 the more effort my muse has to put into the kiss.
Careful, the more kisses the more it heads to NSFW.
It felt like a rejection and he blamed himself for it. His behavior must’ve come off as strange. Or odd, at least. Unlike the friendship they had before. Peeta had even felt strange about it: unsure how to navigate himself in this new position with new feelings and all the heavy consequences he felt came with it. It made everything more.. awkward. And he wasn’t naturally an awkward person, which was exactly why it felt so uncomfortable and unlike himself.
Friendship, real friendship, was something to be cherished. Peeta didn’t want to mess that up. Naturally he felt like he had done so anyway — for business had never stood in the way of them spending time together. It made an uncomfortable worry curl in his stomach and the need to apologize rise like bile.
“I understand.” he said regardless. Selfless. Without any judgement. If Will needed space, or wanted space, there was no other way but respecting it. “—that’s not really what I meant, though.” he continued, voice more a mumble than anything else. “I’ve been acting a bit weird. I know that. I don’t feel amazing about it, either. I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is push you away.”
"Oh!?" Not an epiphany but almost comprehension. Enough for Will to realize that he had been missing something vital. That he had misinterpreted Peeta's words. His understanding of them had been tainted by past experiences, and the fear of walking into the same situation he had been trapped in once before. Putting his heart back together had taken him a lot of strength, and there had been times when he wasn't sure it had healed completely. Moments when he remembered more than felt his emotions for Mike, and it tugged at his heartstrings. But it apparently had healed enough to fall for another. And yet again, it was a friend. Someone, he couldn't possibly reveal those feelings to without running the risk of destroying said friendship.
"What did you mean?" Will asked carefully, hugging his binder closer to his chest. But his anxiety about the conversation subsided when he noticed Peeta going quiet. "Don't feel sorry." Lips curved into a soft, understanding smile. "We've both been acting weird, I think. You didn't push me away. If anything, I've been avoiding you." He finally admitted. "I feel like this is something we need to talk about, although I don't know whether I want to talk about it, because I don't want you to think I'm weird. Or a creep or anything." The smile on his lips fell as Will lowered his eyes to the floor between their feet. Sometimes it was better to rip the band-aid off. It's what his mom used to say. He never talked to Mike about his crush, and it had somewhat festered on his part. As much as Will didn't want to revisit the heartbreak, neither did he want the same uncertainty. The weirdness. "We could talk now if you have the time?"
Lips parted just slightly and his gaze averted for a moment in search of an answer. He could have expected such a question and yet the response was lost on him. Any way to rephrase it would be too direct. Too confrontational.
Last time he dared and confessed similar affections it was met with a backlash he had not really anticipated. That situation was entirely different though. Shaped by a traumatic event, based on fantasies and ideologies. He hadn’t known Katniss. Not really. But he knew Will. Quite well, actually. That didn’t seem to ease him, though. The whole of it became more sensitive and fragile and Peeta didn’t wish having to sweep up the scatters. So when Will wanted to talk it created a great anxiety, for those words usually didn’t mean anything good. They meant bad news. Any words that came after it didn’t really register anymore.
He wanted to say he didn’t have any time, but what would he do? Go sit somewhere and worry about the conversation that was bound to happen anyway? So instead he just nodded and swallowed down his nerves, although it was quite present on his features. Peeta sat down at their small table, for more serious conversation were usually had in a more formal setting. Their couch or beds didn’t seem fitting now. He pushed some of the books away as if space was to be made. Then wiped his hand across the surface to rid of any disturbances. Hands lowered back to his lap, fingers lacing together in search of support. Or courage. Or both.
She didn't want to have to say it exactly and, in a fashion, Finnick came to the rescue again. Lucinda followed the motion, having been unable to avoid noticing the flick of Peeta's gaze. She felt the crack widen further again when the panic crept into Peeta's eyes. He needed to know and he needed to be prepared and no one else seemed to be willing to take that risk for him, and she had known that she had to. The second question that he asked immediately following that was far easier to answer.
"It means you are going to love whoever is taking you tonight, love them as if your life depends on it."
Because it does. Well, the lives of those you love.
That she knew she didn't have to say. He could infer that and understand that. He was a Victor after all. They knew the machinations of the Capitol better than anyone else.
"Okay, I can do that." His voice was a mere whisper and he wasn't sure if he was answering Lucinda or encouraging himself. It didn't matter, either way. His grip on the other loosened absently and with it their dance ended.
If it was charm and adoration they wanted, that was something he could fake. Maybe not like Finnick or Lucinda, but he could do it in his own way. Hadn't he succeeded in winning over the public before? Wasn't this the same? Only instead of millions of Capitolites, now it was just one. It should be easier in that sense, shouldn't it?
"Which one do you think it is?"
She wanted the dance to keep going. She didn't want to let go of him. She wanted to keep him safe from it all but she was powerless to stop it. She couldn't do anything other than nod at him, let go and step away from him. She couldn't even answer his question because it could be any of them.
"If it's Nero, don't fight him. You will regret it." Lucinda's eyes were filled with sorrow, a sorrow that only Peeta would see. She had done her time with Nero and she almost hadn't survived it. She still bore the marks of her disobedience.
"Fight?" he asked in a breath, question pooling in the blue of his orbs. Why would he want to fight anyone? He wondered if he was actually grasping what Lucinda was implying. Peeta didn't think of himself of naive, but right now he surely felt that way. Should he have known something he was not yet aware of?
Uncertainty knotted uncomfortably in his stomach, creating a nauseon he could do without. What he did understand was that it was time to step away and mingle back into the small crowd. To find the right person, he assumed. He immediately wondered how he would know - what signs to look out for.
Hesitance replaced his earlier charm and he was sure it was noticeable on both features and posture. He rubbed at his fingers and pressed a smile as he searched for a destination. Any destination.
Lucinda nodded head head. There was nothing else she could do. Their time was up and the crowds of people no longer parted for them. People crushed in and Lucinda pressed her lips together tightly, giving Peeta one last lingering look of warning before she allowed herself to be swept away. She told herself that she shouldn't watch him, she should trust that he had understood. Even if he hadn't, he would understand soon, and then after all was said and done, she would be able to find him and that was when she could really help him to try and pick up the pieces. Tonight was the breaking in of Peeta Mellark and with every step she took away from him, she hated every one of the Capitol citizens in this room, almost as much as she had hated them when it had been her turn.
The rest of the night passed as it generally did at these sorts of events. She laughed, she smiled, she flirted and made them feel like they were the important ones in the room, that they were worth more than they believed they already were. She played her part; Lucinda Bayliss, Victor of the Hunger Games worshipping the only God's that mattered. The bile rose in her throat and it burned but she was well practised by this point. This was one of several reasons she had to never return to her District. She couldn't bear the thought of walking down the old streets as she had done as a child, knowing that she wasn't the same person and that she never would be ever again. She couldn't bear seeing her former innocence paraded in front of her, couldn't bear the reminder of all that they had taken from her. It was too much and Lucinda wasn't brave enough to face that, especially because she would still be summoned back to the Capitol anyway. There was no escape and there were some nights where she wondered if she had been the unlucky one, if it would have been better if she had died in the arena like the others from her Reaping. Then, she thought of what would have happened if Dixon had won instead of her and she knew then that no matter how much it hurt, she would take all of it for the rest of her life rather than have passed the cup onto him.
Afterwards, the guests had left and this was the moment where she could find Peeta again and do all that she could to help him. She would do for him what Finnick had done for her. He wasn't going to be alone trying to deal with this. Lucinda's apartment had a spare room and no one was currently occupying it.
So, she quickly tidied herself as much as she could and sought him out.
He had forgotten how to unclench his jaw from the moment he had made his way to the door to exit. Then, he could feel himself becoming two shades paler. Eyes wide in horror, stomach heavy and sick. The small limp in his step due to his prosthetic hid the additional discomfort that had accompanied his last task. Something he somehow had not been able to anticipate on. It had come as a full surprise on which he had manages to improvise. Glad for how his face was pressed into a pillow so his whimpers could be interpreted as something else than what it actually was.
It was vile. Uncomfortable. Every sense of himself lost on him now. But most of all, he was confused. Utterly confused. He walked through the corridor, then back as if he had forgotten something, only to turn heel again a second later. Until he stumbled into a bathroom he managed to lock behind him before falling to his knees to empty his entire stomach. There he wept. For just a moment. On the bathroom floor. Holding the cold porcelain as if it would offer any comfort.
He wiped his nose on his sleeve before pulling himself up to force steps back into the world. He didn’t know who would be in that common area. If the party was still ongoing. If people would notice his distraught demeanor. He found it worse when he saw just the other victors there. Feeling too exposed. Because they knew. There was nothing to deny. A new type of shame rose to his chest. One he had never experienced before. And he trie with all his might to keep himself together.
She was looking for him and that was why she managed to spot him pretty much as soon as he walked back in. Lucinda did a quick, mental inventory as she walked quickly to his side. He could have been significantly worse for wear but that was only a determination from a quick assessment. She couldn't determine how he was mentally but it likely wasn't anywhere near good.
"You're coming with me tonight Peeta?" She told him, reaching out to gently brush her fingers against his elbow. She didn't want to do too much, to push too far, but he shouldn't be on his own. They'd lost more than one Victor that way. "Will you let me take care of you?"
She was very limited in what she could do to affect any change in his life where this was concerned. She could try to help him through this part of things though, just like Finnick had done with her. She could pass that on and she would be glad to. This was all she could really do for him.
Those words were very similar to what he had said to him. The emptiest promise anyone had ever made so far in his life. At least in the Games he knew what he was facing. Death was always on the threshold. Tonight he had been taken by surprise in the worst possible way.
Peeta was too much in a state of shock to pull always. Compliance is what was in his mind. That was the best way to act and also what she had instructed him to do. There was no other scenario, to be honest. No way he would have gotten out of it any better than now.
“I’m ready to leave.” he managed to whisper like it was a confession he was not supposed to make. “I want to leave.”
@takenamiss asked: “ When did you stop being just my best friend? ” (Peeta to Will)
It felt a bit like a twisted deja vu. As if he was trapped in one of his nightmares, only this time it was painfully real. Will had gone through this already. Not in this precise way, but close enough that it stayed with him like phantom pain. He had pushed away and lost one best friend before because he couldn't keep his heart in check. And now it seemed history was repeating itself, when it had acted only out of self-preservation. He had avoided Peeta because he didn't want to get hurt. Because he couldn't stand another rejection.
"But we... we are best friends!" He smiled weakly. Pressed his sketch book to his chest like a shield, although he was unsure if he was preparing for an impact or for his heart to jump out through his chest. "I've just been busy, you know... with exams and stuff," he added a stammering explanation, eyes pleading Peeta to accept it and not ask further. They had shared so much. Of course, they were best friends. And of course, Will had to ruin it by construeing more out of nothing.
It felt like a rejection and he blamed himself for it. His behavior must’ve come off as strange. Or odd, at least. Unlike the friendship they had before. Peeta had even felt strange about it: unsure how to navigate himself in this new position with new feelings and all the heavy consequences he felt came with it. It made everything more.. awkward. And he wasn’t naturally an awkward person, which was exactly why it felt so uncomfortable and unlike himself.
Friendship, real friendship, was something to be cherished. Peeta didn’t want to mess that up. Naturally he felt like he had done so anyway — for business had never stood in the way of them spending time together. It made an uncomfortable worry curl in his stomach and the need to apologize rise like bile.
“I understand.” he said regardless. Selfless. Without any judgement. If Will needed space, or wanted space, there was no other way but respecting it. “—that’s not really what I meant, though.” he continued, voice more a mumble than anything else. “I’ve been acting a bit weird. I know that. I don’t feel amazing about it, either. I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is push you away.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
She didn't want to have to say it exactly and, in a fashion, Finnick came to the rescue again. Lucinda followed the motion, having been unable to avoid noticing the flick of Peeta's gaze. She felt the crack widen further again when the panic crept into Peeta's eyes. He needed to know and he needed to be prepared and no one else seemed to be willing to take that risk for him, and she had known that she had to. The second question that he asked immediately following that was far easier to answer.
"It means you are going to love whoever is taking you tonight, love them as if your life depends on it."
Because it does. Well, the lives of those you love.
That she knew she didn't have to say. He could infer that and understand that. He was a Victor after all. They knew the machinations of the Capitol better than anyone else.
"Okay, I can do that." His voice was a mere whisper and he wasn't sure if he was answering Lucinda or encouraging himself. It didn't matter, either way. His grip on the other loosened absently and with it their dance ended.
If it was charm and adoration they wanted, that was something he could fake. Maybe not like Finnick or Lucinda, but he could do it in his own way. Hadn't he succeeded in winning over the public before? Wasn't this the same? Only instead of millions of Capitolites, now it was just one. It should be easier in that sense, shouldn't it?
"Which one do you think it is?"
She wanted the dance to keep going. She didn't want to let go of him. She wanted to keep him safe from it all but she was powerless to stop it. She couldn't do anything other than nod at him, let go and step away from him. She couldn't even answer his question because it could be any of them.
"If it's Nero, don't fight him. You will regret it." Lucinda's eyes were filled with sorrow, a sorrow that only Peeta would see. She had done her time with Nero and she almost hadn't survived it. She still bore the marks of her disobedience.
"Fight?" he asked in a breath, question pooling in the blue of his orbs. Why would he want to fight anyone? He wondered if he was actually grasping what Lucinda was implying. Peeta didn't think of himself of naive, but right now he surely felt that way. Should he have known something he was not yet aware of?
Uncertainty knotted uncomfortably in his stomach, creating a nauseon he could do without. What he did understand was that it was time to step away and mingle back into the small crowd. To find the right person, he assumed. He immediately wondered how he would know - what signs to look out for.
Hesitance replaced his earlier charm and he was sure it was noticeable on both features and posture. He rubbed at his fingers and pressed a smile as he searched for a destination. Any destination.
Lucinda nodded head head. There was nothing else she could do. Their time was up and the crowds of people no longer parted for them. People crushed in and Lucinda pressed her lips together tightly, giving Peeta one last lingering look of warning before she allowed herself to be swept away. She told herself that she shouldn't watch him, she should trust that he had understood. Even if he hadn't, he would understand soon, and then after all was said and done, she would be able to find him and that was when she could really help him to try and pick up the pieces. Tonight was the breaking in of Peeta Mellark and with every step she took away from him, she hated every one of the Capitol citizens in this room, almost as much as she had hated them when it had been her turn.
The rest of the night passed as it generally did at these sorts of events. She laughed, she smiled, she flirted and made them feel like they were the important ones in the room, that they were worth more than they believed they already were. She played her part; Lucinda Bayliss, Victor of the Hunger Games worshipping the only God's that mattered. The bile rose in her throat and it burned but she was well practised by this point. This was one of several reasons she had to never return to her District. She couldn't bear the thought of walking down the old streets as she had done as a child, knowing that she wasn't the same person and that she never would be ever again. She couldn't bear seeing her former innocence paraded in front of her, couldn't bear the reminder of all that they had taken from her. It was too much and Lucinda wasn't brave enough to face that, especially because she would still be summoned back to the Capitol anyway. There was no escape and there were some nights where she wondered if she had been the unlucky one, if it would have been better if she had died in the arena like the others from her Reaping. Then, she thought of what would have happened if Dixon had won instead of her and she knew then that no matter how much it hurt, she would take all of it for the rest of her life rather than have passed the cup onto him.
Afterwards, the guests had left and this was the moment where she could find Peeta again and do all that she could to help him. She would do for him what Finnick had done for her. He wasn't going to be alone trying to deal with this. Lucinda's apartment had a spare room and no one was currently occupying it.
So, she quickly tidied herself as much as she could and sought him out.
He had forgotten how to unclench his jaw from the moment he had made his way to the door to exit. Then, he could feel himself becoming two shades paler. Eyes wide in horror, stomach heavy and sick. The small limp in his step due to his prosthetic hid the additional discomfort that had accompanied his last task. Something he somehow had not been able to anticipate on. It had come as a full surprise on which he had manages to improvise. Glad for how his face was pressed into a pillow so his whimpers could be interpreted as something else than what it actually was.
It was vile. Uncomfortable. Every sense of himself lost on him now. But most of all, he was confused. Utterly confused. He walked through the corridor, then back as if he had forgotten something, only to turn heel again a second later. Until he stumbled into a bathroom he managed to lock behind him before falling to his knees to empty his entire stomach. There he wept. For just a moment. On the bathroom floor. Holding the cold porcelain as if it would offer any comfort.
He wiped his nose on his sleeve before pulling himself up to force steps back into the world. He didn’t know who would be in that common area. If the party was still ongoing. If people would notice his distraught demeanor. He found it worse when he saw just the other victors there. Feeling too exposed. Because they knew. There was nothing to deny. A new type of shame rose to his chest. One he had never experienced before. And he trie with all his might to keep himself together.
“Hey, uh, about what I just said earlier, I’d prefer for it to not really be out there. Unless it becomes like an unavoidable thing, if you know what I mean.. Not that I’m ashamed or anything, I just don’t want things to get unnecessarily complex.” Or have his family hear of it somehow. That thought made a knot form in his stomach. He hadn’t really admitted it out loud and now he suddenly felt the weight of it.
Gaze averted back to the empty television screen and then down to his lap, afraid the statement might’ve been an indirect insult. “I never said those things to anyone. I know I can trust you. And I know other people say crazier things to each other, by that I mean the porn part, but—“ he gave half a shrug. “like I said, I don’t expect to receive that type of love from anyone soon, so I would rather not project my sexuality on the big screen until, you know… it’s there.”
Will understood Peeta's concerns, but he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed that the other would think he would go around and share something told to him in confidence. His eyes widened in shock. "What? Of course, I won't tell anyone," Will assured the other, not letting any of his disappointment show in his voice. His friendships had always meant the world to him, and because he left so many of them behind in Hawkins, he didn't want to jeopardise the one he had made here.
"I understand," he shrugged, his own gaze moving to the empty television as well. "If it were me, I would do the same." It was something he had thought about multiple times. "You know, if I had the chance to be normal." To like girls. As much as he has learned to accept himself. Even finding joy in who he was, sometimes Will wondered if it would've made things easier. Less painful. A simpler path to walk.
Those words made Peeta shift. His leg propped up underneath him as he turned towards Will, a hand finding his shoulder. Fingers gave just enough pressure to imply comfort. A warmth that came naturally to Peeta.
“Hey, don’t say that. You’re normal! More normal than most around here that is.” A joke to lighten the atmosphere a bit between them. A smile to emphasize the sentiment.
“Besides, girls are complex. They’ll just.. blame you for the silliest things.” Or so he heard. He wasn’t sure about relationships other than those he made up in his mind. He patted Will’s shoulder and leaned back again with a sigh. “Should we play Catan or something? Share another soda? I don’t really feel like sleeping yet.” They probably should, given the upcoming exposition, but both of them tempted to postpone that part of the day anyway.
She didn't want to have to say it exactly and, in a fashion, Finnick came to the rescue again. Lucinda followed the motion, having been unable to avoid noticing the flick of Peeta's gaze. She felt the crack widen further again when the panic crept into Peeta's eyes. He needed to know and he needed to be prepared and no one else seemed to be willing to take that risk for him, and she had known that she had to. The second question that he asked immediately following that was far easier to answer.
"It means you are going to love whoever is taking you tonight, love them as if your life depends on it."
Because it does. Well, the lives of those you love.
That she knew she didn't have to say. He could infer that and understand that. He was a Victor after all. They knew the machinations of the Capitol better than anyone else.
"Okay, I can do that." His voice was a mere whisper and he wasn't sure if he was answering Lucinda or encouraging himself. It didn't matter, either way. His grip on the other loosened absently and with it their dance ended.
If it was charm and adoration they wanted, that was something he could fake. Maybe not like Finnick or Lucinda, but he could do it in his own way. Hadn't he succeeded in winning over the public before? Wasn't this the same? Only instead of millions of Capitolites, now it was just one. It should be easier in that sense, shouldn't it?
"Which one do you think it is?"
She wanted the dance to keep going. She didn't want to let go of him. She wanted to keep him safe from it all but she was powerless to stop it. She couldn't do anything other than nod at him, let go and step away from him. She couldn't even answer his question because it could be any of them.
"If it's Nero, don't fight him. You will regret it." Lucinda's eyes were filled with sorrow, a sorrow that only Peeta would see. She had done her time with Nero and she almost hadn't survived it. She still bore the marks of her disobedience.
"Fight?" he asked in a breath, question pooling in the blue of his orbs. Why would he want to fight anyone? He wondered if he was actually grasping what Lucinda was implying. Peeta didn't think of himself of naive, but right now he surely felt that way. Should he have known something he was not yet aware of?
Uncertainty knotted uncomfortably in his stomach, creating a nauseon he could do without. What he did understand was that it was time to step away and mingle back into the small crowd. To find the right person, he assumed. He immediately wondered how he would know - what signs to look out for.
Hesitance replaced his earlier charm and he was sure it was noticeable on both features and posture. He rubbed at his fingers and pressed a smile as he searched for a destination. Any destination.
photography by Brendon Burton
She didn't want to have to say it exactly and, in a fashion, Finnick came to the rescue again. Lucinda followed the motion, having been unable to avoid noticing the flick of Peeta's gaze. She felt the crack widen further again when the panic crept into Peeta's eyes. He needed to know and he needed to be prepared and no one else seemed to be willing to take that risk for him, and she had known that she had to. The second question that he asked immediately following that was far easier to answer.
"It means you are going to love whoever is taking you tonight, love them as if your life depends on it."
Because it does. Well, the lives of those you love.
That she knew she didn't have to say. He could infer that and understand that. He was a Victor after all. They knew the machinations of the Capitol better than anyone else.
"Okay, I can do that." His voice was a mere whisper and he wasn't sure if he was answering Lucinda or encouraging himself. It didn't matter, either way. His grip on the other loosened absently and with it their dance ended.
If it was charm and adoration they wanted, that was something he could fake. Maybe not like Finnick or Lucinda, but he could do it in his own way. Hadn't he succeeded in winning over the public before? Wasn't this the same? Only instead of millions of Capitolites, now it was just one. It should be easier in that sense, shouldn't it?
"Which one do you think it is?"
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"Oh, no need to apologize. I'm glad you came." Her eyes shifted down for the blink of an eye as he mentioned his prosthetic leg. It made her curious, but she didn't want to overstep by asking how he had lost his leg. They were just getting to know each other. They didn't even know if this would be more than a mutual appreciation for their art and a nice conversation. Maybe they wouldn't see each other after today.
"I'm good." She still had some of her drink left, having barely touched it while waiting. "You can get the next round." Instead, she waited for him to make his order and return with his drink before she continued. "This," she raised the paperback, showing him the title. On the Road by Jack Kerouac. "It's for an additional course I'm taking on queer literature. It was on the extended reading list, and I'm thinking about writing my paper on American Beat Literature and its influences on modern queer writing." She blushed. "Sorry, I always get excited when I talk about my classes. You are welcome to stop me if I get too nerdy." A chuckle followed. "What about you? What kind of classes do you take?"
"I can't say I ever heard of any of that." he chuckled, as inspected the book. Not something he was familiar with. Nor with American Beat Literature as far as he was aware. "Visual Culture, different types of art like printmaking, digital art, contemporary stuff, critical theory, that sorta things." One of the waiters brought his cappuccino and he thanked them with a nod and a smile. One hand immediately wrapped around the cup to enjoy the warmth it exhumed.
"Would you mind telling me more about that genre? What are the general themes? And what are your views on the influences on queer writing?"
@mysterycflife:
❄️💞 — “snowflakes in your hair. don’t move.” (from Edwina)
"I should've brought my beanie." he chuckled, holding still so she could wipe away the cold. He could have known; this weather was predicted. And they also had snow at home, so it wasn't like he was taken aback by the sudden climate.
Then again, it wasn't entirely problematic to have snow in your hair. What was more problematic, was the accumulating ice underneath the cover of fresh snow. He had good shoes, with good grip, but he was still concerned about slipping. Especially since he had just one reliable foot.
"I bet you would also be an amazing figure skater." he said almost dreamily as he imagined it.
Jonathan couldn't help but smile. A few years ago, he had been in a similar situation, where he had thought creativity was the same as coming up with unusual concepts. He had tried himself at them only to return to the ordinary. Recoding everyday life, much like Peeta did. It was why he had eventually switched his focus to documentary filmmaking and photojournalism.
"Can I give you a tip?" He asked, falling into his big brother voice. The same he would use when he gave Will advice. "Find the why in what you're doing. You're right, there's art and beauty in the mundane, and the viewer will see that, but what puts it above this is when they understand why behind your choice of subject."
"Yeah, of course." was his immediate response. Sincerity of it confirmed by a step forward and a nod of his head. One of his more redeeming qualities was actually the acceptance of feedback. Peeta rarely took that personal, unlike some of his peers.
Lips parted just slightly at the words that followed. He knew why. very much so. But he hardly found it appropriate to advertise his work with emotional turmoil. He'd rather be celebrated for his skill instead of one tragedy that happened a few years ago. But he figured he could keep it vague, maybe ask some additional advise now they were at it. Will had told him before that Jonathan was also studying something artistic.
"I kinda know, but I don't know if I want to expose myself like that." he looked back at the paintings for a moment. "Do you know that thing where you look for five things you see, five things you hear, five things you smell, five things you feel? These are the things I see, I guess. But I wouldn't know how to disclaim that in a way that it's not becoming a sob-story."
Peeta scratched at his arm, looked back at the work again and noticed how he hadn't put any information anywhere, really. Where the others had entire presentations and origin stories. "When thoughts are unreasonable, these are the facts."
Jimmy Olsen in SUPERMAN (2025)
by Sergey Garifullin
@aleurain Eventide? Eventide.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
@mysterycflife
🥰 — “your nose is red. adorable, actually.” (from Will)
Not only his nose was red now. Heat crept up his neck to his cheeks. He rubbed at the hotspot, a somewhat bashful smile hiding the clear blush that was caused by such words. It was the bluntness Will had about showing the things he liked. It was honest, sincere and it always managed to move something inside of him.
He pulled his beanie down a bit more, seemingly adjusting it but also in attempt to distract from actively acknowledging his initial response.
"It's very cold." he mumbled sweetly, only adding to whatever Will had considered adorable before. Then his blues found the other again and he gave a nod towards him. "You are getting there yourself, too, you know. ---Both of them."
Peeta wasn't even around the corner before Edwina was on her mobile, writing a text. She wanted him to have her number, too, but for a moment she struggled with what to write him. Was it too forward to make it flirty? Was she even ready for something like this? Since her breakup with Anthony, she had avoided everything that had not been strictly platonic. She had even dropped a class when her assigned partner had become a bit too forward. When his cheeky comments started to become more than friendly banter. Biting her lip, she decided to go with her gut feeling.
Looking forward to our coffee. - Edwina And I'm not just saying this because I get a free painting out of it. ;)
After freshening up, she made her way to the coffee shop, ordered her usual chai latte, and waited at a table by the back. To not drown in the rising nervousness she felt, the young woman took out one of her assigned readings. It offered some distraction, but not enough to keep her from looking up every time the bell at the door announced a new customer. Finally, after looking up a dozen times, she saw Peeta entering. Her book was put aside immediately, and she gave him a bright smile as she waved him over. "You came!" she announced happily. "I mean, I'm glad you could make it. How was your therapy?"
A smile stretched at the notification. With a quick swipe he unlocked his phone to make sure the messages were really there. As if technology was just playing a trick on him. Her second comment left him a bit speechless and for a moment he didn't know what to response. Was that flirty? Was it too bold to even assume it was flirtatious?
He was quick to freshen up and change back into his regular clothes, not wanting to keep her an extra minute waiting. He forgot to return her a text saying he was on his way in the rush of it all. His hand raised in greeting as he immediately spot her.
"Of course I came -- I'm sorry I didn't text you back, but I didn't want to keep you waiting." A smile, as he lowered himself on the seat. He did feel sad for her worry that he wouldn't show and couldn't imagine who it was that had left her behind like that. "It was fine. I have a prosthetic leg and I occasionally go in for some checks. Nothing too problematic, really." He figured it was better to just get that fact out there. The blonde somehow felt he always owed that to whoever he interacted with. Especially girls, somehow.
"Do you want to have another drink? I'll order and then you can tell me all about that book you're reading." Another smile as he nodded towards the novel.
