#just believe me it’s good

[friendship-ditch]

Your muse

(Katniss Everdeen x Fem Reader) ❀

Summary: Your girlfriend Katniss loves to read your poems, so you write one just for her.

Warnings/Note: None! As fluffy as Katniss’s hair

Word Count: 1386

The house was quiet with the new morning, the only consistent noise being the gentle patter of rain on the windows and the soft scratch of a pencil. Somewhere in the kitchen the sink dripped.

You were sitting at the desk in the study, notepad on the surface and pencil in hand. You were scribbling light words across the paper and humming softly. When the words stopped coming to you, you would doodle for a few moments until they came back.

The front door cracked open and you heard the stomp of wet boots being abandoned by the doorway.

“I’m back!” Katniss called in a soft tone. You could hear her walk into the kitchen and set something on the table, most likely some bird. “Y/n?”

“In the study!” You called back. Normally you’d get up and rush over to her but the waterfall of words was pouring from your brain to the paper and you didn’t want to lose it.

Katniss chuckled from the kitchen. Soon she came into the room, her wet hair free from its braid and her shirt a little damp from the rain. She’d discarded her jacket and cleaned up a little though there was a smudge of dirt across her forehead.

“New work?” Katniss stood behind your chair, her hands on your shoulders. She peered at the paper which you promptly covered and pushed away.

“Nu-uh, it’s not good.” You tilted your head back, looking up at her. The two of you exchanged a gentle kiss.

With a soft sigh, Katniss leaned against your chair a little more, arms sliding around your neck in a gentle embrace. “Come on.” She whined. Her fingers raked through your hair in loving strokes and she rested her chin on top of your head. “You know I love your work.”

“You love the final draft. I never let you see the work-in-progress version because it’s shit.” You said. You planted your hand firmly overtop the paper. “Plus, this one’s special.”

“Special?”

“Yeah.”

“Well now I’m even more intrigued.” Katniss kissed the top of your head. “Come on, come lay in the living room.”

With a roll of your eyes and a smile, you grabbed your notepad and followed Katniss out toward the living room. You plopped down on the couch and got settled while Katniss changed her shirt. Thunder had started to rumble outside and the rain was coming down a little harder.

You picked the notepad up and flipped to a new page. Nothing you wrote down was exactly what you wanted or nearly as perfect as you had hoped. You couldn’t show it to Katniss like this, not yet.

Katniss came back in a dry t-shirt, though her hair was still damp. She nudged your hands from the pillow in your lap and laid her head there instead.

“How was hunting?” You smiled down at her, setting the paper aside and tucking the pencil behind your ear. You moved one hand to stroke her damp hair, pulling a few leaves out and craning through the dark locks to work out the knots from her early morning hunt.

Katniss relaxed under your touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“It was alright…” she mumbled softly, content under your touch. “The woods are slippery in heavy rains like this, I nearly fell into that stupid ravine again.” She chuckled, laying off your concern with a shake of her head. “One of my snares caught the pheasant.”

You smiled once more, moving your hand from the end of her hair up to her scalp, still stroking like you would a cat. Katniss let out a soft purr-like noise as if to play along with your thoughts and the two of you giggled.

“I was worried. I woke up and you were gone.” You scolded her in an affectionate tone. “Or… you left earlier than usual, at least.”

“I wanted to beat the rain, I wasn’t so lucky.” Katniss flipped so she was laying on her back and looking up at you with warm gray eyes. She reached a gentle hand up and brushed her fingers against your cheek. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“Oh, I’m pissed.” You shook your head with a teasing smile, setting your palm on the side of her face in return. You wiped the dirt smudge from her forehead. “No, I’m not mad. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Katniss grinned a little. “I’m fine. But I’d be better if you’d show me that poem you’re working on.” She said.

“Come on, Katniss, it’s awful.” You shook your head once more, gently pressing your finger into the tip of her nose, then just gently trailing your thumb down the side of her nose and under her eye. “Art takes time.”

“Nothing you make is awful.” She insisted, shaking her head. “Just let me see, maybe I can help.”

You both laughed at that.

Although Katniss was amazing at speeches and using the right words to motivate others, she wasn’t the best at using her words for things other than that, especially not art.

“Not yet.” You replied. “Patience, Katniss.”

“Ugh, you’re so stubborn.” She complained and rolled over to lay on her stomach again, burying her face into the pillow in your lap.

You chuckled again and ruffled her hair. You placed the notepad on her back and started writing once more, a sudden wave of inspiration hitting you.

About an hour later, you finally finished. You tore the paper out of the notepad and reread it with a proud smile.

Katniss, who had fallen asleep, stirred awake at your sudden movement. She blinked sleepily at you, those gray eyes of hers full of curiosity.

“Did you finish?” She asked, voice still hoarse from sleep.

“Mhm..” You scanned the paper again as if you were a little hesitant. This poem was different from the other ones you’d written and you were a little nervous to share it with her.

Katniss sat up and when you were finally ready, gingerly plucked the paper from your hands.

You waited quietly as she read it.

This poem was about Katniss. You’d written about her a lot in your poetry but it was never very obvious or clear, usually just subtle hints. This time you didn’t bother to hide it in the subtext, it was clear as day. Katniss was always your muse and you figured it was time to let her know.

When she finished reading the poem, Katniss set it in her lap and read it once more, then set it aside so she wouldn’t wrinkle the delicate paper. Her hand wrapped around yours and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

“Y/n, I..” Her voice caught in her throat and she blushed at the little squeak that came out through her lips. Katniss had a hard time believing others even tolerated her, so to read what was essentially a profession of your love on paper was groundbreaking for her already fragile mind that you’d so carefully put back together.

Your cheeks flushed a light shade of crimson as well and you couldn’t help but smile. “Is.. it okay? Or is it too cheesy?”

“It’s perfect.” Katniss managed to say with a teary smile. She wiped her face and then just flung herself at you, arms catching around your torso and face burying into your chest. “It’s… it’s not true, but it’s perfect.”

You shook your head, laying down on the couch with her cradled in your arms. “It’s very true. Every bit of it.” You murmured, kissing her forehead and giving her a tight squeeze.

“You’re going to make me cry.” Katniss whimpered as if she wasn’t already crying. She tore her face from your shirt and looked up at you, face redder than before. “But… Thank you, y/n. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You murmured.

Once Katniss settled back down in the warmth of your embrace, she laid her head on your chest and smiled. Her fingers gently played with the fabric of your shirt as yours played with the now dry locks of her hair. The poem you’d written now lay beside your book of various others and your mind was already buzzing with all kinds of new ideas for poems for and about your best supporter.

[lady-starkiller]

going wild on a saturday night

*glass of bourbon*

*wikipedia page for 'photon'*

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[luppiart]

Hihi haha hoho huhu *im insane

[holographings]

my softest, beigest pillow

[hinamie]

shows up a day early with a nobara birthday tribute

[koipepo]

That omake of little Kabru not being able to show off his howetown sweets because of Misril gets to me a lot so...

Here's a happier Kabru (and Lairu)

[cosmicgamer]

The way Luz's thank you drawing got rejected by the person it was for when she thought she finally found someone who wouldn't make fun of her for her eccentric behavior, that she is worthless..and then the drawing does get recognized, that it's beautiful and why would it get thrown away. She was finally understood (I am in shambles help-)

[pixlatedvampire]

In my mind this is canon

[chloesimaginationthings]

might I interest you in a Michael doodle today?

I’ll finish this soon, trust 🙏

IM ALWAYS INTERESTED IN A MICHAEL DOODLE…

[bixels]

tarpit site.

[petricorah]

scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]

[egophiliac]

Hi it's just to let you know that the official romanization of Revaan's name is Raverne ! Also they have romanized Baul's name to Baur !

Twst coming back at us again with the least expected romanization! thank you everybody (oh god my inbox) (no it's great, I literally asked for this and the reactions have been INCREDIBLE, thank you all!)

I do like Raverne though, I think it's got a nice fancy sound to it! (I had kinda suspected it was going to be an R instead of an L, so the fact that it's SO close to Laverne except for that is hilarious to me personally.) and Dragoneye Duke is honestly probably the best translation for his title, I wasn't envying the localizers that one. :') Baur instead of Baul I was NOT expecting, but in retrospect I think his name's supposed to be a reference to the Bauru crocodile, so that actually makes way more sense!

someone else also said Meleanor has become Maleanor, which is the REALLY weird one to me, because I was so surprised it was written as Mel instead of Mal in the first place?! oh god no I can't decide which one I like better. 😭 (I wonder if they might change it to Mal...they have made romanization changes before) (like I remember House of Distraction being corrected to House of Destruction in Playful Land) (I did check and she's still Mel for now, but I dunno, they might Mal her up and some point and save me from having to make a decision about which one to use) (HECK I CAN'T DECIDE)

uhhhh thank you for letting me ramble about anime names, let's just say MONOGRAMMED SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE

[u3pxx]

KIM KITSURAGI - “Is that. My kineema.”

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Something in him is about to break, *big time*.

EMPATHY - And it’s not going to be pretty, do something!

- DRAMA [Formidable] - Everything is fine!

- “Sure is.”

DRAMA [Formidable: Failure] - Surely he’s aware that he’s not the *only* person in the world who owns a Kineema?

YOU - “Is it really *yours*? I mean, plenty of people have their own Kineemas, right? Like working men, government offices, uh, firefighters I guess, maybe even animal control people? Exactly! A million different people who could’ve driven it into the uh…”

DRAMA - Pause, my liege! Ixnay on the Ineemakay!

YOU - “It could even be our *mysterious* joyrider!”

KIM KITSURAGI - Your frenzied babbling falls deaf to the lieutenant's ears. Instead, he approaches the broken vehicle, sunken in the ice. He moves with a caution and gentleness you haven’t seen him display before.

INLAND EMPIRE - It must be cold and lonely down there, in the icy water. Maybe he could sense its sorrow, calling to him…

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - His hands, which are always stiffly placed behind his back, are trembling.

ENDURANCE - This is the shuffle of a tired, tired man.

HALF LIGHT - He’s going to do something drastic because of you. Oh god, terrible! You’re a terrible liar! You can’t look at this, you just can’t!

VOLITION [Formidable: Success] - It's not *you* who drove his kineema into the sea. You have plenty of faults, but this one is decidedly not yours.

KIM KITSURAGI - He kneels down with his head bowed, casting his face in shadow. He plants a hand on the ice to stabilize himself, squinting to get a better view of the motor carriage. “Detective, it says ‘57’ on it.”

YOU - Sweat drips down your brow, and you feel a terrible headache coming. “Maybe our joyrider has an affinity for that number?”

LOGIC - He's not stupid, he knows that it's not that.

KIM KITSURAGI - “57.”

YOU - “What about 57?”, you brace yourself.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Precinct 57.”

YOU - You wince. “Kim, look-”

KIM KITSURAGI - “When I woke up in the Whirling-in-Rags with no memory of what happened during the days before, I've taken note that something of mine has gone missing.” He grits his teeth. "A very. Important. Something."

He runs his hands over his face, messing his already unkempt hair in the process. Regret creeps up on his features. “God. Fuck. They’re going to fire me over this, they’re not going to hear me out.”

EMPATHY - Desperation settles in the lieutenant's tone. Sadly, you find yourself in agreement, even if you don’t want it to be the truth.

YOU - “People are more valuable than machines, Kim.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Not people like me.” He rasps.

YOU - “…”

KIM KITSURAGI - Before you can say anything more, you fail to notice the lieutenant carefully walking onto the edge of the ice. He looks over the frigid water, a dizzying blue that mirrors and distorts his exhausted face back to him.

YOU - “Kim?”

KIM KITSURAGI - Seconds pass as he looks to be contemplating something. Out of nowhere, he casually takes another step where the ice ends and the sea begins. It happens all too quick for the lieutenant to even voice a call for help— if he even wanted to — his body plunging into the cold water before your eyes.

YOU - “KIM!!!!”

uhhh bonus stuff? sorry i have swap au brainworms pfttt

(im not sure what skills kim has at the moment so rn he only has narration as his inner monologue ok whoops, i would like to keep harry as the guy who thinks in dialogue trees so im still figuring it out pfttt)

also, this was done bc i wanted to expand on these old scribbles of mine, just like an idea, i just think that he'd be having an even worse time wheezes

[b4kuch1n]

podcast people in my phone

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bonus 8: How met your mother (CSSR design by @qourmet!)

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