hijacking storyline was great but I will never forget that it took away from me the possibility of Peeta going absolutely feral when Katniss got shot. Give me worshipful Peeta who thought the love of his life died so he goes down on her when she’s healed up
i would’ve fucking died to see his reaction if he were himself when she got shot. ALSO!!! i guarantee he had an emotionally confused reaction to seeing her get shot even while being hijacked because i truly think that peeta never stopped loving her. it just got buried beneath his conditioned fear of her for a little while. but it’s extremely telling to me that once they’re able to really talk again during the capitol mission, his increasing devotion to her meant that he was rediscovering (in real time) how much he still adored her. “i can’t” are not the words of a man who ever stopped loving a woman
AHHHHHHH, but, like, can you imagine this as a delayed reaction??? Like before ‘so after?’
He’s just doing his thing in District 12 one day, making Katniss some cheese buns. And Katniss comes downstairs. She’s reaching up to grab a mug for some milk and her shirt rides up a little.
At first Peeta’s like: 😈
But then he sees the scar from where she was shot and from the surgery. And he just…STOPS.
He walks over to her and just lifts her shirt to look at it and she’s like WTF???? but he’s just staring at it and says, “you were shot in District 2, real or not real?”
She stills and looks at him curiously and says, “real”
And he just FALLS TO HIS KNEES. Starts hyperventilating.
He puts his head against her stomach. Arms around her pulling her down to his lap, and just holds her.
She’s got her hands in his hair comforting him and making little noises but she doesn’t quite know what to do here, but he’s quietly crying and she can feel the tears against her and she knows whatever this is, he needs it. He needs her comfort.
He moves his head to look up at her and says, “I almost lost you and I wouldn’t even have known how much that would break me.”
And then she feels the air leave her lungs and it all hits her. Everytime she almost died. Rushing into death to get away from the pain of losing him. Losing Prim. Everytime HE almost died. Everytime she almost lost him. To death. To Snow. To his own demons.
And then they’re both crying and holding each other. Realizing everything could have gone wrong for them. But relishing in the fact that they’re here. On the kitchen floor. With each other. Alive.
She grabs his face and, for the first time since the sewers, she kisses him.
I forgot I wrote this and I was straight reading this like “and THEN what happens????”
“I can’t” are not the words of a man who ever stopped loving a woman
OH HELP ME
he did NOT stop loving her and i will DIE on that hill. i could do a 40 minute TED Talk on that hill before dying on it, too.
bc like we know he loves her we know this but that line just shows that he’s as desperately inextricably intertwined with her as she is with him even though we mostly get the flirtatious, self-sacrificing gentleman Peeta like his internal monologue has got to be as unhinged as hers like the way they want to fuse souls is really embarrassing frankly and I want to inject it directly into my bloodstream
No joke i think about the club kiss scene AT LEAST 5 times a day. I say this completely unironically. Every element is worth obsessing over. Like how Mickey went to a gay club knowing FULL well his boyfriend was a stripper there so he was obviously going to have creeps hitting on him and yet he STILL went into full on rabid dog mode when a guy tried to tip Ian. And then Ian being like 🙄🙄🙄 cause he is just used to Mickey being overprotective and trying to kiss him in public for the first time. And Mickey flat out refused at first BUT THEN HE SLOWLY LOOKS AROUND AND REALISES “WAIT A MINUTE WE’RE AT A GAY CLUB PEOPLE ARE GAY HERE NOONE GIVES A FUCK”.
AND THEY KISSED
LIKE THEY WERE STARVING, LIKE IT WAS VITAL FOR THEIR EXISTENCE. Mickey messed up Ian’s hair and Ian was holding him in ways he’s never been held before. And the hands OH GOD THE HANDS HOLY FUCK
The things you create don’t have to make sense! They can be messy and wild! They can be confusing and strange! They can be ugly and weird! Stop tethering your sense of creativity to what other people will accept. You deserve to create without inhibition.
1: it’s a fucking amazing scene in the books. 2: I have different designs and styles for katniss and peeta now.
I searched their accurate heights and I wanted them to appear as actual teenagers, which I find challenging to pull off. Effie’s design stayed the same, but I made her hair more floofy. I used a lot of 18th century makeup for reference, and a lady gaga photo back in 2010. I still liked the poses I gave K and P so I rolled with them. Here, I wanted them to portray characteristics I admire about both of them since this is the first time we see them together, and in a not so great situation. I wanted to show katniss’ fire and determination, of course she’s going out of her mind but she can’t show that to the cameras or her sister. And Peeta is reliving this nightmare over and over like many of the boys do, still unable to believe he’s unlucky enough to be in this mess. But he’s fighting the urge to cry, looking off to the side, burying his fear in the moment.
///“He looks at you like you put the damn stars in the sky”///
Finally finished my little minicomic for @jimtranskirk’s fic “on impressions and imprecision”!! He’s one of my absolute favorite writers and I will take any excuse to draw Jim in a dress!! Full length png with all the panels put together below :)
The outfit It was not created by me. It’s one of Robert Fletcher’s costume concept art from The Motion Picture (which, unfortunately, does not appear in the film).
I love how horny this art is. All of us on the Old Man Fucking website take it for granted that hell yes we’d want to see Spock in this. But this was the late 70’s, Leonard Nimoy was pushing 50, and the art department said yes, let’s put him in briefs with a translucent one shoulder wrap that looks like it’s mostly made of string. *Sexy* string.
Then Nimoy probably said something very nice to the art department before getting costuming to put him in a baggy white bathrobe.
“All I’m saying is, if you don’t think Steve Harrington’s attractive, you won’t be into this Captain Free boy of yours.”
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because it is Steve Harrington.”
Eddie rocks on his feet briefly. Wayne is shifting to the side to make way for him, before he’s consciously aware that he’s bounded up the steps and is leaning over the railing, peering in to see for himself.
His eyes are drawn to the man sitting almost behind the pillar at once. Not because of the sunflower resting on the table in front of him. Not because of the book laid beside it, where one broad hand is tapping, either along to the music inside or the beat of his own anxiety. Not even because of the way he’s restless, in motion, turning those beseeching brown eyes on every person who passes by him, in a way Eddie is frankly surprised doesn’t have each one of them involuntarily pulling out the empty chair opposite him, compelled by the power of that look to just take a seat before they know what’s happening.
Eddie’s eyes snap to him at once, because of the way his perfectly tousled brown hair falls just so over his forehead when he glances down at his golden wristwatch. Because of the way his charcoal gray v-neck sweater hugs his arms and shoulders, the exposed collar of the white undershirt beneath it making the strong column of his neck look sun-warmed, even in a Chicago winter.
Eddie’s eyes find him immediately. Because he’s lovely. Because he’s beautiful. And because he’s unmistakably Steve fucking Harrington.
