writerboylikeme

Color study ✍️✍️

“There you go. Kick a man when he’s down.”

“Jimmy… you’re always down.”

Bonus: Jimmy meltdown

... I was lying in bed not falling asleep, ... I heard the door creak open. Peeta stood there in his pajamas, looking sheepish, one hand tugging at his hair in lieu of the question. "Well come on then," I said, pulling back the covers. "But you have to open the window yourself, I'm not getting back out of bed." - method acting like you love me; Ch. 3 by @whenyoureplayings0litaire

I have been obsessed with the imagery of my eepy shy Peeta tugging his hair in his jammies since I read it as a snippet months ago so I just had to draw him. This was supposed to be for a birthday present but it came together so quickly and I accidentally developed a crush on him so I want to post it now 👉👈 (I also got a better idea for bday present anyway 😈) so I hope you like it as a regular old thanks for being a pal on a regular day present 😘

closeup of his cutie face under the cut cause i love hims 🥰

The progression of a relationship according to Katniss Everdeen:

like omg.. “you’re a real peice of work” to katniss… him joking about stealing annie right in front of finnick and katniss… johanna making fun of peeta for talking to himself in public… saying he remembered a lot of “nights on the train” in front of actually everyone at lunch… randomly describing in detail the torture he watched happen when literally nobody asked and then being upset when no one responds… pouting on a chair because katniss refused to kill him… saying “are you serious” to president coin… somehow getting along with gale and talking about katniss when she’s two feet away from them…

most of the time this is okay, and i bask in the quiet. i make myself a new and fancy recipe. i bake treats for my dog. i take environmentally-shameful-length showers. i often like being alone. i like to sit and have the world hold me in a palm like a mercury spill.

but then the small things. i kind of want to see one of the touring broadway shows. or a particular movie. i just want to tangle my legs into someone else's while we eat popcorn and talk about our favorite types of tea or something. it's not that i can't handle any of this by myself - i do, i am happy doing so - but i sometimes cut the orange in half and wish i could peel it for a second person.

i am cheerfully and chipperly informed that all things can be fun and exciting by yourself. i am reminded that loving myself should be the first and foremost goal. i am jokingly informed that if i just hold out, my wife will appear in the clouds as if i wished for her - but that i shouldn't drive myself crazy by looking. i ground myself in my incredible friends and support. i do it all the "right" way.

and yeah in the history of humanity we still can't seem to talk about it enough. because i can tell you about it - about her - and it won't surround the experience. it can never be big enough.

i am feeling something people have maybe always-felt. who knows when the first person fell in love. i am also feeling something that feels new and silly and extreme. like maybe we're the first people to really understand it, truly.

i know the science of it; why her smell is so good to me (something about our compatible genes). oxytocin and whatever hormones. and still it is incredible - i didn't think my body did this kind of thing. i thought it was an invention of romance-book marketing.

things make sense that didn't make sense before. songs about how love is an addiction or possession or insanity. orpheus had to turn around, of course he did, i would turn for her too, just to see. my mom and i watch a rerun of a murder mystery; for the first time i understand the line he did it for love - instead of being trite, it feels like a genuine tragedy.

and of course i am feeling the same way millions of people have maybe felt and know i cannot write enough about it, that it won't quite surrender to poetry. why do i think i'm gonna be the one who can finally communicate this thing that resists definition so ardently. this girl in my kitchen, humming. who walked so casually into my life. this girl pulls the rain down from even a cloudless sky.

what i can say is that i feel something impossible, and stupid. what i can say is that nothing about this is unusual, and yet i am so caught in it that i keep waiting for some terrible evil - something so good surely must come with some kind of retribution.

we get high and watch zombies 4 (it's terrible). the main characters sing a song about love; how theirs feels wild and impossible. the kind of thing i used to think was insipid, bad writing. baby that's us, she says into my ear.

sometimes abuse victims will insist to others that they were/are not being abused. sometimes abuse victims will insist to others that it's okay they were/are being abused for whatever reason.

in fact, leading a victim to believe that what is happening is normal and fine and even good or righteous for whatever reason is a common feature of abuse, whether the abuser did it on purpose or not.

if an abuse victim in your life...

questions whether they were abused

goes back and forth about whether they think they were abused

tells you they weren't being abused, and then later says they were

“Gale is my friend. We hunt together. He’s cool ig.”