#i just wanted to add it because I’m whimsical like that

[aidens-ocean-galaxy]

artists: @/sophithil on insta, @/spookeart on here and insta, @/industrations on here, @/likeafuneral on insta, @/greenlights333 on something (I assume Insta)

[cherry-leclerc]

i hate you. i hate you? ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, love confessions, childhood friends to enemies/rivals to lovers (damn, tongue twister), maybe a bit angsty (don't worry too much about it though, lol), flashbacks that add to a tiny slow-burn

word count: 3.5k

The dwindling friendship that comes crashing down when you get offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Leading to a bumpy road with your best friend.

req!... i swear that when i put angst ITS NOT BAD. anyways, enjoy, anons!

Me encantaría formar parte del equipo, you muse whimsically, pigtails flying against the winter breeze. Sería un sueño hecho realidad. 

Despite being young, you knew you were different— came from a divergent background compared to those around you. Your family definitely didn’t have the resources to fulfill your dream to kart or race professionally. You partially blame your brothers for getting you into the sport. 

Si. Lo sería, a particular Spaniard, agrees. You smile. Your parents share a pitiful glance before sitting you down. It wasn’t going to happen, not because they didn’t want to but simply because they couldn’t afford such an expensive hobby that would probably kick you in the butt. 

That’s where your first guardian angel appeared. Carlos Sainz Sr. Better known as your best friend's father. Without a doubt, he offers to sponsor you, for he grew keen on having you around, enjoying time by the pool with his two girls and shy son. 

Was there a way you could ever thank him? No, not really— nothing would ever cover all he’s ever done for you, but you’d make sure to try your best to find a way. Even if it took you a lifetime. 

-

“You’ve known her for a lifetime! Probably five, for all we know!” Lando yelps, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t just call it quits on your friendship just like…” He snaps his fingers. 

Carlos shrugs. He fills up a styrofoam cup of coffee, silently offering one to his moody friend. The Brit rolls his colorful eyes. You’re making a mistake, he presses. It’s the Spaniards turn to grow serious. 

“Por favor—she should have thought about that before she stole my seat.”

That, you did. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. It could have never been, even if you had been warned. But suddenly you were getting an opportunity, the kind you only ever dreamt of. Carlos would be fine, he was a man who would eventually have a pile of teams interested in keeping him around. You, on the other hand, were surprised that anyone was even intrigued in having you form a part of their F1 team, much less— Ferrari. 

This was it, and you had to grab at the opportunity. You just never imagined losing a friend along the way.

Why would you even consider accepting? You flinch and he’s looking as if he regrets it, so you give him the benefit of the doubt. 

I know this isn’t what we were expecting, but think of it this way. I'd be coming in 2025 and you would already be too busy preparing to join Audi! It’ll work out. You’re still doing that, right? You knew he was, he had been so excited and told you as soon as he found out. Audi was in his blood.

He runs a large hand through his tangled hair, sighing. Still. You have to say no. You can’t do that to me. It’d be embarrassing.

Your shoulders drop an inch. Why? Because you’re being bought out or because a woman is keeping your seat? His silence is enough for your heart to break and for your mind to be made up.

I’m signing. 

-

There is indignation, and then there is you.

“You are such a—argh!” Pounding your fists against the locked door, you reach out to briskly twist the knob, trying your best to get out of the cramped room. The world was spinning, and you could feel a migraine rolling in strongly, but you swore—swore—you would kill him as soon as you got your hands on him. 

The morning had started off fairly simple. Show up, run a few tests on the stimulator, get to know a few of the mechanics you’d be working with, and finally, sign your contract. You had waited longer than intended, due to minor changes you had suggested, so you were extremely ready to get it done. This was supposed to be your day.

That is until the grumpy Spaniard pushed you, locked you in, and ran off before you had a chance to register what was going on. Fred had been adamant—show up on time. The next time he would be available would not be until three weeks, and that was ridiculously long if anyone were to ask. Carlos knew that.

Charles hums slowly, munching on a pack of M&M's when he hears the spine-chilling scream you let out, wood vibrating as you punch angrily. Hurrying over, he unlocks it from the outside, surprised by your appearance. Your hair is tussled, face is blotchy, vein throbbing. It’s definitely a sight to say the least. He mentions something about —he went that way— and —think about what you’re going to do— but you’re off before you settle with any of it.

The twists and turns make your head hurt, practically seeing red before you come to a halt. Smiling sophisticatedly, Carlos is sat, legs crossed, fingers pointing to his watch. No. “News for you, my dear friend; Fred just left.” The Spaniard winces playfully, already making his way out the door. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Charles was right. You should have thought about what you would do. Jumping onto his large back, your flimsy hands dig into the forest he calls hair, and pull. He screeches, swaying from side to side as he hurriedly tries to disconnect your legs from around his waist. Let go, he groans harder when you pinch his arm. 

“Why? Why did you do this—any of this?” At this point you’re kicking and screaming, panting, heaving. “Is it really that difficult to accept it? You lost. I’m in, you’re out.”

“At least we know she’s a fighter.”

Coming to a sudden stop, your eyes flicker to the familiar voice, instantly burning up. Fred taps his foot gingerly against the white tiles, an amused Monegasque standing right behind him. Jumping off of the sulky brunette, you begin to shake your head in disbelief, pointing towards the exit. “N-no…you’re supposed to be gone. He…” Then it hits you. This was a fucking set up.

“While I’m evenly impressed by your toughness, I will say, I think we should put a hold on signing.” Your stomach drops. The older man quickly waves his hands in dismissal, grinning apologetically. “We still want you! Nothing has changed, but I think it’s for the best that you fix things with Carlos before doing so. It’ll be good for you two.” With that, he bows his head, and strolls away, heading for the airport.

“I’m out too,” Charles whispered, slowly stepping back. “Fill me in on what happens, though!” 

As soon as your breath evens out—and Carlos creates a safe distance between you two—you let out a deranged chuckle. He almost cringes at the cold sound, but keeps his chin up high. “You did this all on purpose?” It’s a question but comes out more like a confirmation, which in a way, it was. Shutting your eyes, you tilt your head with a ghostly smile. “You knew he hadn’t left and let me make a fool out of myself. Why would you do that?” you grit, orbs laser focused on him as if you could light him up into flames if you really set your mind to it.  

“Why would I not?” he stubbornly spits back.

“You asshole, I’m just trying to make your dad proud.”

A pinch of guilt dives deep into his veins as he watches you stomp down the hallway, mindlessly tugging at his heart.

-

I say we let him burn, Ana pitches the idea, laying flat on her bed as you scoff with a knowing smile. 

Does it make me a bad person if I don’t disagree with you? 

She sits up, eyeing where you calmly paint down on a canvas. She squints her eyes. “What even is that?” Holding your art with pride, you shoot a sheepish smile. Nice, huh? The Spaniard’s youngest sister giggles, nose scrunching up at the dark sight. “I’m confused—is he supposed to look like that?”

You curl an analytical brow, shooting a quick snarl. “I think it’s pretty good. And yes. He’s supposed to be getting run over by my future car. What a sight.” You dramatically swoon.

Ana drops her stare, focusing instead with a teasing curl gripping the corner of her lips. “Remember when instead of plotting his death, you’d be fantasizing about a life with him? God, I could still remember all the hearts—the glitter.” She shudders, faintly recalling the mess in her room, which led to Reyes giving you both a good scolding, but not before winking at a red-faced you. 

Looking away feverishly, you shake your head, picking up the flimsy paint brush once again, never once bothering to make eye contact with her. “I was young. Stupid as shit. I can’t even remember what I loved about him.”

“Liked,” she corrects you.

You cough. “Right. Liked.”

-

If the Spaniard took the time to sit down, roll through a philosophical journey, wonder where things might have changed for him—it would have saved him enduring a puddle of dreadfulness at this very moment.

Ana’s wedding. The first of his sisters who would get married. It was a bittersweet day, and not just because she was finally leaving the family nest. “Who is she…” he can hear himself ask. Almost demand. The brunette smirks, slightly pleased. 

“My best friend. You’re nemesis,” she jokes. 

Carlos growls slowly, lightly pinching her cheek as she yelps. “With. You know what I mean.”

“Lalo. She met him a few weeks ago. Very nice guy.” A beat. “Please don’t ruin my wedding.”

But he’s not even listening. Brown eyes follow to where you stand straight, arms crossed over your body like a shield. He always knew you’d been self-conscious, but never understood why. You were stunning. Lavender dress hugs your curves beautifully. A trace of honey fills any area you fall into. Your hair is nicely pinned up, allowing him to enjoy your silky skin. 

And it seems like Lalo too.

Rubbing a large hand against his smooth jaw—which was only neat since Reyes had hounded him to fix his appearance for his sister’s big day—he smoothly made his way over. Rupert warns the Spanirad with his eyes, but Carlos scoffs. Did everyone think he had something up his sleeve? 

“Enjoying yourselves?”

Mid-sip, your face freezes, doe-eyes flickering between Lalo, then Carlos. Then Carlos, then Lalo. God, when did the room begin to boil? Your voice gets caught in your throat, to make matters worse. Carlos’ personal trainer pity’s you for a split second, deciding to help out. “The drinks are stellar, mate. We’ve been hogging the bar for so long at this point.”

The brown eyed boy studies your so-called date, faking a cold smile. “You don’t say…Carlos, by the way,” he says, extending his arm out. “Remind me of your name again, sorry, she’s just never mentioned you before. At all, really. I apologize.”

“That’s okay, we only just met a few weeks ago. We’re taking it slow.” We’re. The word itself makes the 29 year old fear he might puke right then and there. “Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. Huge fan.”

“Mines or hers?” Carlos bitterly questions, thick lips forming a straight line. Lalo awkwardly clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling away and leaning in to hold you close. 

“Guess it’s my turn to apologize now. Hers. Always. But you’re pretty cool, too, I suppose.” His voice is light, unbothered. It makes Carlos tick furiously, though he doesn’t dare show it. You can’t pinpoint the moment tension rose up, snapping you out of your trance. Blinking hastily, you aim a sour snarl at the Spaniard. 

“We were sort of having a good time, so…” You shoo him away with a jeweled hand. “I just don’t want to kill the vibes. You understand, right?” Barely giving him a chance to respond, you turn back to your conversation, leaving Lalo and Rupert to appear puzzled, but stupidly playing along.

With a raw click of the tongue, the 29 year old takes a step forward, leveling down to your ear. “Pretend all you want, but you’re still wearing my initials around that pretty wrist of yours.” And walks away.

It was true. Your parents had gifted you a lucky charm bracelet for your fourteenth birthday, and Carlos greedily beat everyone to it. A car, for your love for Formula One. A chili, a shy thank you for his nickname. An ice cream, well, because you just loved ice cream. And a cursive CS. For him. 

Watching him walk away left you with a hole in your heart. You did not need a reminder like that on a day like this. Wearing it was purely out of habit, it had no meaning to it anymore. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The need to use the restroom was a complete lie as you wordlessly peek for the broad Spaniard. You spot his glossy shoes first, sticking out the photo booth. 

“Scoot,” you say, gently cramming him in deeper. Once you get situated, you slide the silver charm off, handing it over to him. “Here.”

He furrows his dark brows. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want anything tying me back to you anymore. It was kind—sweet—but that was past you. You’re cruel, mean, rude, a fucking jerk now. I don’t like that, so— here.”

“I don’t want it,” he retorts, curling your flat hand into a fist, forcing you to hold it tight. 

“Well I don’t either, so what is there to do? You know what; I’ll just sell it. It’s not even that significant,” you mumble, already making your way out, but not before he hauls you back. Falling straight onto his thigh. You can feel your pulse quicken, your cheeks tingle, and your eyes suddenly burn. “Let me go,” you squeal, trying your best to weasel out of his grip. He groans, placing a large hand on either side of your hips, pushing you down.

“No. Just listen to me first.” Sighing, you nod. You should be climbing off; there’s room for two. He should be pushing you off; there’s room for two. But none of that happens as he clears his throat, rehearsing his words over and over before you raise a neat brow, waiting for him. “Perdón. Por todo.” 

Not what you were expecting and he could tell when you let out a small gasp. Nervously, he licks his lips, admiring your plump ones that don’t lay too far off from his own. “I used to be so proud of you when we were just kids. When you first admitted you wanted to race too. It was adorable, the way your eyes lit up.” Your breath deepens, unknowing of what this was leading to. “But I’ve always been proud. That’s never changed.”

“You’re a terrific liar,” you timidly chuckle, patting his shoulder, making him back off a little. But he only ricochets forward, twice as close. Your insides churn. 

“You don’t know how fucking happy I was when you got a seat. Over the moon. But I won’t lie; I was hurt and said some shitty things that have no excuse tied to them. I know I hurt you—I know that now. But that feeling vanished when worry came creeping in. I don’t want you to sign that contract.”

You flinch, reality crashing down on you once again as you examine the Ferrari driver. “Why apologize if you haven’t changed? My feelings aren’t a joke,” you whimper pathetically, tears sliding down your cheeks, soft brows drawn together. 

He panics, gingerly brushing them away to the best of his ability and you don’t have the power to fight him off anymore. You’re too busy getting your heart broken once again by the same man. 

She’s beautiful. Insanely—it’s insane. Her eyes are a shade of green I’d never thought I’d like.

I once wore a shade of green shorts last summer and you called them ugly. Said it looked like vomit. 

Carlos sighs dreamily, dominantly shaking his head. 

Well crap. I must’ve changed my mind.

Present him, was taking in your frantic sobs and he doesn’t know how else to calm you if it's not by rubbing your back gently. It takes a while, but you eventually ease up, occasionally letting out a shaky breath. “First of all, let me tell you why I did everything within me for you not to sign. It’s no good.”

You tilt your head in confusion, nose runny as he hands you his handkerchief. “I-I’m confused.”

Carlos chuckles. “What was the one thing I would always complain to you about when I was away racing?” Lack of privacy? “Okay, second thing I raved about…” When you don’t answer, he sheepishly wiggles his brows. “How tired I was with my team. It’s exhausting because like it or not—we’re not at our prime. I don’t think we will be for a couple of years. But for my benefit, I’ll be gone, and then it’s only going to fall on-”

“Me,” you finish, glossy eyes dancing through his painful expression.

 He nods. “Listen, Charles will be fine. Mentally not, but he’ll do just okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not only will you dive in, nose first into a world of ruthless men, but you’ll always be the entire blame. In their eyes, it'll be you. What did you do wrong? How could you fuck up? And sure, you might sometimes—it's inevitable— but other times you won’t. But you’re a girl, and that’s enough for the fingers to be pointed at you.”

Shaking your head profusely, you instantly reach up to catch your hair from falling from its tiring up-do. He helps you out, combing his fingers nicely, though this time it doesn’t get rid of the queasy feeling. He was right. God, why did he have to be right? 

“I’m well aware of what I’m about to get myself into. But I think I can handle it. I can’t not do it—imagine how many girls it would help pave the way for? I’m sure as fuck it won’t be easy, and it might threaten my sanity, but I need to do this. And I’m sorry.”

An unfamiliar wave crashes against his warm eyes, a low breath being expanded into the air. You can feel it, taste it. Mint mojito. Your body told you, you liked it, with the way you wanted to lean in and kiss him—just to confirm. Pursing your lips, you continue. “You have your future decided and I have mine.”

With a hesitant bow, and a tide of curls flying forward, he clears his throat. “You’ve always been this way. Dedicated. And I could never decipher why. Until now.” He can’t help but brush his nose against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing him to appreciate your pretty features. “If you’re sure, then I’m right behind you.”

You almost want to laugh, but are too scared to ruin the moment, so instead count his freckles. “I am…” A sharp inhale. “But what’s the second thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘first of all’. I would assume there’s more…” You know there is, but you just want to hear him say it aloud. You’d seen the way he glared viciously at Lalo, chest firming. You’d seen the way things had shifted between you two, months prior, after his break up.

If this racing thing doesn’t work out, you would make a killer artist. He whistles.

Down boy, you joke. It’s just a swan. I resonate with them. 

He sits up straighter. Then consider me a swan, too.

You laugh loudly, tossing your head back as he smiles. Why all of a sudden?

Just.

“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here.” He cradles your delicate face. “I think I love you. I-I mean I know I love you. Your stubbornness, your compliance. Your level-headedness, your intrusive actions. Your need to persevere and be better—even if others make it hard on you.” You giggle, poking his chest. “But above all, I love the way you made me work for it. I’m glad you did because how else could I have realized if you didn’t drag that dead-beat?”

“Hey! He’s nice!”

The 29 year old tsks. “Nice isn’t enough and you know it.” His pink lips graze over yours as you lean in too. “You’ve always been a smart girl…” He’s about to kiss you when you slide back, leaving him hanging. He clenches his jaw, seeming teased. 

“I love swans because I know I can love as deep as one.” 

“I can too.”

“And I know, you know, that I love you too.”

“I do know that.”

“And I lit you up on fire, but only on paper!”

His brows furrow. “Yeah, we can circle back to that. But I don’t care. I love all that about you. And I want you to know my father has always been proud of you.” He winks. “But never as much as me.”

“We’re doing this then?” you ask nervously. “Y-you’re still going to have to grovel. I don’t give up that easily. Especially after all you’ve put me through.”

Carlos gently nods, eyes adoring you. “I’ve waited more than a decade for this moment. What’s one more?”

And he kisses you.

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!

[dollyyss]

stop stop bc bc bc bc um um um.

maybe u should do hpw craigs gang kisses you. maybe

~🍋

Because I love you, and I was thinking of Craig and remembered I had this in my inbox.

Also I promise I’ll get requests done I post once or twice sometimes Daily so I do what I can! But please feel free to bring requests in!!

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝘾𝙍𝘼𝙄𝙂𝙎 𝙂𝘼𝙉𝙂 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝙆𝙄𝙎𝙎

𝙀𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥

𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥! 𝙃𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝘼𝙐

𝘾𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙜, 𝘾𝙡𝙮𝙙𝙚, 𝙅𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙮, 𝙏𝙤𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙏𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: not really aware of any, if there is please let me know!

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

Craig ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⋆｡˚

Craig leans into the kiss, he subtly brushes his thumb against the back of your hand, creating a tender connection beyond the physical act of kissing. It adds a sweet and personalized touch to the moment, expressing his deeper connection without saying it. one he just doesn’t do far too often.

-His kisses tend to be quick. Just pecks to your lips or the sides of your cheeks.

-I think there’s a part of him that’s a bit.. afraid to fully go in for it? He doesn’t want to kiss you just to kiss you, he wants to kiss you to.. explore that whole side of his love for you. But he doesn’t want to overdue it.

-Though.. when he does go in for it, his hands are holding onto you for dear life, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away from him. He becomes more confident in himself, pressing himself against you, his nose a bit squished against you.. your like some drug he can’t stop. Filling him with a buzz he can’t come down from. When like this he occasionally bites at your bottom lip, softly pulling when he stops the kiss.

- Never a huge one to do it outside ever or in public, and if he does they aren’t on the lips. They’re on the top of your head, quick swift kisses.

-He’s the same when not in public as well, except he’s more then okay with giving you them when you both are alone. So it’ll tend to happen more often then.

Clyde

In the quiet intimacy of a moonlit night, Clyde’s letterman Jacket had been hung on your shoulders, eyes wandering as he leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours. The air hummed with unspoken words as his lips met yours, creating an overwhelming feeling of the weight of a thousand untold stories in that stolen kiss. “You taste good.” With a soft shove he let out a blissful laugh, “Clyde you are so stupid.”

“Stupid enough for you to kiss again?”

- he’s quite the kisser. Will take any god damn kiss he’ll get. I’m telling you he’ll pout like a mother fucker if he doesn’t get it. He thinks your lips are so fucking sweet, so addicting.

-his normal kisses are always on your lips. Yes occasionally he’ll kiss elsewhere but he loves how soft your lips are, how they fit so perfectly with his. If he could kiss you a million times he would, never wanting to pull away.

-Clyde is completely okay with PDA. So kisses in public? 100%. He wants everyone to know you’re his. His arm will be hung around your shoulder whilst he talks to one of his friends. He’ll press a kiss to the side of your head every now and then, sometimes pulling your chin to look up at him and placing a kiss to your lips.

- He can be needy. When things are heated there’s no getting Clyde Donovan off of you. He’s pushing you back against his bed, lips locked while his hands roam underneath your shirt with curiosity. He won’t stop for air, I’m telling you. He’s desperate for you.

Jimmy

With an unexpected twist of humor, Jimmy seized the moment, pulling you into a spontaneous dance of laughter. Amidst giggles, he planted a playful, yet surprisingly genuine kiss, turning a lighthearted exchange into a memory where joy and affection collided in a delightful, whimsical symphony

- Oh Jimmy. That sweet sweet boy. He loves you tremendously. He likes to kiss you wherever! But his personal favourite is your nose. He loves whenever he makes a joke.. you laugh so hard your nose turns pink. He can’t help himself but plant a kiss to it, making you giggle even more.

- he’s okay with kissing in public, but he’s more then happy to share these moments at home. Though,, if you ever have a really shitty day at school, you have a panic attack.. anything. Text him. He’s immediately getting up from his seat and coming to your aid. Once he finds you, his crutches are against the wall and he’s sliding down the wall to sit, ushering you over to sit between his legs. Your face is littered in kisses, occasionally your lips.

- When moments become more intimate they tend to be a bit silly, his lips move at such a sloppy rate, his hairs a mess. Occasionally your teeth clink against his braces and he can’t help but laugh with you before diving back in. He’s gentle, but also likes to get what he wants so he does put quite a bit of force to it.

-he can be a goofy kisser…. He once puckered his lips for you to give him one.. just for him to blow a raspberry and piss himself laughing at your face..

Tolkien

In the soft ambiance of a candlelit evening, he held out his hand, a silent invitation to a dance that transcended mere steps. With a courteous smile, he led you through the waltz of shared glances and whispered conversations. Finally, in a moment of undeniable sincerity, he pressed a gentle kiss upon your hand, leaving an indelible mark on your pumping heart.

- stop because he’s so god damn loving. We know Tolkien to be quite the gentleman, he’s constantly kissing at your knuckles, your hands and up your arms. He’s like Clyde, he just can’t seem to keep his lips off of you. It doesn’t matter where.

-you’re sitting on his lap while his lips dance over your chin and jaw, sitting beside him class? He’s gripping your hand and placing a gentle kiss to it, crying? He’s kissing those tears away. You took a nap on his bed, he’s finding his way over and placing a kiss to your head and tucking you in.

-he’s more then okay with it in public. You don’t have to ask him please, he’s delighted to have your lips on him, he wants to show people he’s happy in his relationship.

-He’s quite good at it, he knows when to be rough, when to be soft, when to pull away to leave you wanting more.. and he uses this so often to tease you whilst your body sits on his lap facing him, a chuckle escaping his lips before he kisses your neck..

Tweak

Amidst the whirlwind of nervous thoughts, he took a deep breath, his anxious gaze meeting your understanding ones. In that vulnerable moment, he mustered the courage to bridge the gap, and as your lips met, a quiet reassurance unfolded—a kiss that spoke of shared vulnerabilities and the solace found in each other's presence.

-He’s so scared to do it wrong. He’s so scared to push forwards, to place his hands literally anywhere. What if you didn’t like it? What if you didn’t want his kiss? “Tweak my love, right here..” he melts when you place your hands on his to guide him. Once you’ve done it, he’s confident enough to place shaky lips on yours.

-He likes kissing your jaw, and lips. Your jaw being because he enjoys being able to hide his away, peppering kisses to your jaw while he takes in the scent of your hair. It’s soothing to him. And your lips because they’re so warm. If he’s ever just not able to calm himself he’s looking for you immediately to press his lips to yours, soon hiding his face and littering kisses all along your jaw.

-He’s typically not the one to act out on kissing in public but if you do it to him he doesn’t mind it. Just try not to in a group of people, not that he’s embarrassed of you but more embarrassed that people could stare at what he believes is a sweet intimate moment.

- hi. He’s whiny when he kisses. Because I said so. He doesn’t like when you pull back, he grips your shirt muttering out a shaky whine and almost begging you for you to come back. His eyes are half lidded, lips quivering while his hands find anyway to bring you closer. “No! You can’t just.. pull away from me like that, agh! I need you..”

- Needy. Whiny kisser. I love him.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Please can I have a little crumblet of my hubby in therapy 😭🥰

You can have an entire snippet!! 💕💋

“Would you like to talk about these bad experiences?”

“Not really.”

He realizes he’s coming off as rude, and gruffly adds with a shrug: “There’s nothing to talk about. It was a bad experience.”

You look at him now, mirroring the up and down glance he just gave you, and he starts to shake his leg. An involuntary action that tells you he feels like this situation resembles an interrogation. When your gaze slowly drops to his boot bouncing in the air under that chair, it stops.

He doesn’t like it that he got caught being slightly nervous. He makes it clear that he knows what you just did, that you were evaluating him just with your stare, and that he doesn’t like it one bit.

You could almost swear from this little scenario alone that Simon Riley has a background that includes some form of torture.

You scribble another word on your notebook.

Hypervigilant. Suspicious?

“Do you have nightmares?”

“Sometimes.”

“What kind of nightmares?”

He takes a longish pause, directs those vigilant eyes to the floor for a moment. The leg gives another shake, then another shake.

“The regular. Trapped inside a crashed vehicle or plane. Can’t get out and then I wake up feeling like I can’t get air.”

You put it up: regular nightmares about suffocating to death.

“Then there’s the occasional dream where I strangle women.”

You pause in the middle of writing, then quickly return to what you were doing.

Okay... Okay. Nothing too unusual, you can do this. You try to keep your breaths long and even as you raise your stare and your professional compassion to him.

“Would you like to elaborate more on that?”

He huffs a dark, short chuckle.

“No. But I guess I have to.”

He thinks he has to tell you about his nightmares about hurting women only because that’s far more concerning than the occasional dreams of being caught in a death trap. Or then he wants you to say it’s ok and that they are only dreams.

You draw a breath, but it's he who speaks first.

“I would never hurt a woman in real life.”

You tilt your head, this time with genuine compassion. It’s simply the human in you: the woman in you. One of your whimsical new age friends said you're a wounded healer and that you should be careful before you start mothering another emotionally unavailable, broken man. That you ought to date someone sensible for once.

You fight the urge to shake those thoughts off – you’re not planning to date this man. You can’t date your clients, it’s the first rule of being a therapist. Well, perhaps not the first, but still, you’re not here to save–

“Don’t know what to do with those dreams. It's just… Is wha’ it is.”

You take another deep breath. “How does it–”

“Make me feel?” He huffs. It’s not what you were going to ask, but you’re pleased to see he’s being co-operative. In his own way.

“Disgusting. Makes me feel disgusted with myself.”

“These are just dreams. As long as you don’t make them reality, they’re just dreams.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Your lips draw into a thin line, and you can’t help yourself from scribbling another thing down.

Arrogant.

“What did I do now?” He asks, trying to direct the conversation elsewhere. Or then he’s genuinely curious. What was it in his Yeah, I know that was so telling, so monumental? You notice that you’re smiling softly as you draw him back to the session in hand.

“How have you dealt with these feelings of shame and disgust?”

He blinks.

“Guess I haven’t. What would doctor suggest?”

“I’m not a doctor. But I would suggest you introduce yourself to mercy every time you have these nightmares.”

“Mercy,” he repeats, a bit flabbergasted. His voice lacks the commanding, rough tone it usually has when he knows he’s one step ahead.

“Yes. How does that feel?” You could hit yourself on the forehead for using such a cliche line. You continue before he gets to return it all back to you with a jab. “Does the word mercy incite anything particular in you?”

“I dunno. Haven’t found it useful.”

His answer is typical for a soldier and a commander of his team. But you see that you’ve at least planted a seed. The word mercy will probably be on his mind even when he goes to sleep tonight.

“And why is that?”

“It’s a luxury I can’t afford,” he shrugs nonchalantly. A tough world view, as was expected, and you move on to the question everyone either hates or loves the most.

“How would you describe your childhood? Your relationship with your mother and father?”

He gives a short laugh. “That didn’t take long.”

“Some of these questions might seem unimportant right now but I hope you would answer them nonetheless. Could you do that for me?”

The last line is not your usual go, but with this client, you have a hunch that a little bit of charm might go a long way. And you just can’t help yourself. Of course, the results are immediate.

“Sure, miss,” he drags every syllable like he’s tasting champagne on his tongue. “Childhood… Not a very happy one. Father was a drinker. Cheated on my mum.”

[doiliedaze]

Bloodlust: part one

Pitfighter! Vi x Stripper! reader

Warnings: none in this part

Genre: fluff ish cause no real angst yet???

A/N: i was listening to strictly for the strippers by sexyy red so enjoy!! Vi is depressed and impulsive but she’s trying her best.

───────┈ · ·

Sounds of bottles popping, folks hollering, and ass thumping. That’s my typical atmosphere ‘round 11:30. I’ve only been stripping for three years, and I’ve learned a couple things.

Save your money

Get a buddy

Your real name is earned

Never sleep with your clients, this is fantasy

My stage name is Wisp. I got it when I auditioned based on how I move around the pole.

Recently there’s this new hardass that’s been coming to the club. She’s broad, covered in tattoos and has a chip on her shoulder. I avoid these types…but I can’t avoid her.

Think whatever you want about strippers but most of us are decent people tryna make it especially in Zaun.

I walk onto the floor getting what I can before I have to go on stage when I hear her whistle at me.

I roll my eyes fighting a little smile. I will admit she is beautiful but her attitude isn’t. Eventually I’m called onto stage. It never gets old when you are announced on stage. The crowd calling for you, the base thumping and the first moment you touch the pole and you whirl in the air…magic everytime.

The theme of the night was whimsical whores, I know subtle right.

No matter the lighting, fog of weed or anything else I see her through the crowd, heavy blue eyes watching me. Towards the end of my performance my heart was racing almost. She felt closer? She usually stays towards the bar and stares but this time she was closer to the stage.

The song fades out and I get off stage collecting my money when I feel someone hit my ass. Before I could react my new regular is picking fights. One fight, starts twelve here so I scurry off stage and change so I can leave early.

Outside I catch my breath and I see her get thrown out yelling and cursing when she makes eye contact with me. I don’t enjoy when customers get in my business it never ends well. She walks over to me, everything about her looking heavy. Her lip was bleeding and there was a cut under her eye. “You okay?” She said softly might I add.

“Yes but don’t do that again.” She tilt her head and scoffed at me.

“Is that how you say thank you?”

“Why am I thanking your drunk decisions?”

She rubbed her face like she was fighting to say something and just muttered a sorry. She’s obviously drunk and probably wanted to help, before she walks away I grab her hand and she snatches it away. “I just want to know how you’re getting home…”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m not leaving you alone till you let me take you home.”

We stare at each other for thirty minutes until she starts leading the way. Is this dangerous? Obviously! However I’d feel better knowing she’s home safe.

She slows down so I can walk next to her. She smells like wood and blood, not sure if that’s her natural scent or because of tonight. I see some of her tattoos peeking out, they look so intricate.

Her voice broke the silence letting me know we’re here. I thought it looked okay on the outside but my gods it was horrible on the inside.

“Have you ever cleaned or is this the aesthetic you’re going for?”

She side eyed me so I stopped talking.

“I’m barely here so I don’t see the point in caring.” She mutters as she takes off her jacket.

I swallow thickly when I get a view of her back, instinctively I want to touch it but I won’t.

“Like what you see doll?”

“No and don’t call me that, it’s wisp to you.”

“Doll suits you better” she walks towards me, there’s a sadness in her eyes like she’s done this before.

“What’s your name?” I say abruptly trying to change the conversation. She catches on and leaves some space in-between us, “it’s Vi.” She was ashamed to say her name. Then it all started clicking for me.

Vi lays on her makeshift bed and I stare at her crumbled form, “I’ll let myself out…”

“Can you stay?” She whispers, her voice so soft I almost missed it.

You shouldn’t get this close to anyone in the lanes just because they have shit going on, we all have shit going on…but sometimes people need help and I have a hard time saying no to helping people.

I lay behind her and slowly wrap my arms around her. Vi flinched slightly but she was tryna relax. I rub her hair a little trying to comfort her as I hear her sniffle. She grabbed my hand and just lays it across her instead. We stayed like that till we fell asleep.

My downfall has always been my heart let’s see where that gets me.

───────┈ · ·

A/N: im trying not to be corny whilst writing this so I hope y’all enjoy!! I love strip club based stories so there will be more stripper! reader. I’m gonna try to make part two longer and add angst but I suck at writing angst so we’ll see (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout

(Dividers- @dollywons)

[flaneur001]

Whitney Theory Time

[CW- talks about mental health, child neglect, random character analysis and unnecessary deep diving into little details (lol)]

I went down a little rabbit hole pertaining to Whitney’s oral fixation. I have known that when something is brought attention to constantly during any story, then it’s not a simple coincidence. I feel like (how Sydney said in the library) that Whitney has a lot going on. And it’s probably not good. I feel like their back story will be very angsty and sad.

So as someone who has studied psychology for a while, I found this…and I feel like I hit the nail on the head (for those morbidly curious like me this is Freud’s theory on oral fixation…and yeah don’t judge me for going all Freudian analysis on Whitney/silly)

So chances of our Whit being a neglected child are very high. But from their general appearance in the game (m!whitney wearing a blazer and f!whitney wearing a long school skirt. Both items are on the costlier side in game) I feel like they come from a well off family? the general hate towards the privileged people they hold, points to either them living a life of privilege but they are so miserable they want to escape? (Tbh their whole schtick sometimes gives rich kid doing all kinds of weird stuff trying to get attention from their absentee parents trope)

Or maybe used to be a part of a well off family? I feel like they are not being able to cope with the sudden change in their lifestyle if this is the case. Thus are trying to sell this fearless image of themselves.

And Is it just me or do you find it weird too that although Whitney is sent to detention Leighton almost never does anything to Whitney besides scolding? I feel like they do come from a powerful background. Otherwise why would all these lackeys follow them around?! And they own a phone to top it all off. I know all the other NNPCs have a phone too but amongst the LIs only Whitney (and Avery) owns a phone?!

The lowkey neurotic and manic tendencies they have towards PC also screams of separation anxiety. (Ahem collection of stuff toys?) For example, them needing to control PC at all times. Their love stat going high only when PC willingly chooses to act on their every whimsical/cruel wishes, them wanting to tattoo their name on PCs face of all places, not being able to be more open/ vulnerable with PC because they feel that PC might leave them.

And their dismissal event also shows just how much their image matters to them, and why they crave to be in control. This is yet another trait they share with Avery, when on low dominance, you can see how humiliated they get whenever PC fights back with them. Add insecurity about looks on top and viola, you have some deep childhood issues (I love complex fully fleshed characters so much)

Also the not being sufficiently fed during nursing part (I’m referring to the picture above) makes me think that the Headcanon about their parents being divorced and maybe their mom moving out at a very young age, seems like a possibility. Hence Whitney not being able to withstand emotional cheating seems like a result of that (I’m just spitballing here…)

So yeah. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk. I feel good after hyperfixating about a fictional character.

[Bonus Angst Headcanon] I like to imagine, if it indeed turns out that Whitney lives in some mansion with their dad, and their mom left when they were young, why do I get a feeling that their mom left them/ said goodbye to them near the water fountain on a rainy day. Them just staring into the fountain with a solemn mood, feels like there is a definite reason behind it. Or maybe they used to come to the fountain and make wishes with their mom? (Yes I like to torture myself with sad thoughts)

[determinedowl23]

ohhhhhmy god oh my god guyssjsjaidbwisjsis IT HAPPENED I SAW IT AND IT WAS AMAZING

Notes:

Act I

I NEED TO MARRY ALFIE BOE SOOOOO BAD BRUH YOU DONT EVEN GET IT

Alfie’s so short I forgot about that lmao he’s so baby

I do really really really love Michael but I can already tell that Javert is not exactly his thing. He’s too whimsical- too Marius. Super glad he gets to do something with Alfie tho <333

Jeremy (I think) rocked the bishop omgggggg

I WAS NOT EXPECTING KATIE HALL TO BE HERE CHAT- soprano Fantine is such a foreign concept to me but she was gorgeous 

THANK YOU BOEBALL VALVERT FOR BEING THERE FOR ME I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND AND HIS BOYFRIEND

THENARDIERS ARE SO FUNNY I’ve never seen funnier thenardiers. He called Cosette Baguette when Valjean took her away

Also at the beginning of the bargain when Alfie started singing Madame T went “oh he’s got a lovely voice tho”

COSETTE NEW PINK DRESS IS SO PRETTY!!!!! It matches Marius’ bow :))))

Ok both Eponine and Cosette were mixed bags for me- I liked them most of the time, but there were a couple times their voices felt a bit… nasally? They were both very pretty tho :)

James D Gish is beautiful. My dad says he’s the second coming of Ramin Karimloo and im inclined to agree

Gavroche is king shit as per usual

They had stars in stars omggg. ALSOOO at the end the lights make it look like he has wings. Probably unintentional but he’s soooooo fallen angelcore 

As much as Michael doesn’t fit Javert, his Stars really is amazing

WE GOT ENJOLTAIRE CRUMBS 👏👏👏 The entire pause between ABC Cafe and Red & Black they were just looking at each other forever

As much as I do love enjoltaire, im an even bigger fan of Gavroche and Grantaire’s dynamic. It was the main thing I noticed about R’s character (even with Kyle Adams playing him) and I’m so happy that it’s in other productions

No Javert barricade outfit in one day more :(

Three flags??? In this economy????

Act II

Okay I did genuinely forget about the barricade outfit but it did come back! It’s different from the Staged Concert, more greenish-black and I think he has his hair down- there’s at least some strands loose on the front

OKAYYYY IM REALLY SURE TGAT BEFORE R STARTED HIS SOLO IN DRINK WITH ME HE WENT AND HELD ENJ’S HAND FOR A BIT- and after he sang and Enj left Gavroche ran over and gave him a hug it was so sweet

Alfie Boe Bring Him Home is still my favoritest thing in the entire world. I owe him my life im so serious he was my top artist for a reason

Enjolras did the Aaron Tveit “until the earth is free” opt up it was amazing

They cut Gavroche’s individual death scene which was either for better or for worse because that’s the one that always gets me crying, so I just teared up at the end

When Javert let valjean and Marius go from the sewers he turned around as if he was gonna follow them, paused, screamed, and put his head and his hand

Dude michael ball does the best suicide scene he’s so unhinged and skdjaidhaisjsj

EMPTY CHAIRS BRO. At “phantom faces” the Amis all stood up in their places in their seats, with Enj, R, and Gavroche on the center balcony right by the conductor. Also at this point he begins to scream with anger at his survival. I’ve never thought about angry Empty Chairs, but it works so well and I need to see it more

Valjean in AHFoL Reprise made me so sad bro. Insert my post about him and Donna Sheridan but add that they’re so attached to their daughter (Amanda Seyfried) and kinda don’t want to let her go to get married

The audience clapped along to Beggars at the Feast. Don’t know if we were allowed to, but we did anyways

When Marius tells Cosette her father is a saint Valjean just shakes his head no oh my god 😭😭

HE DID THE NICK CARTELL NOSE BOOP WITH COSETTE

THE BISHOP COMES UP BEHIND VALJEAN WHEN HE DIES AND VALJEAN GIVES HIM THE BIGGEST HUG EVER OMFGGGGGG

During bows when Michael came up to bow with Alfie they had to switch sides so that Michael could be on the left and Alfie could be on the right. Order has been restored to the world

In summary: Amazing show god I love Les Mis!!!!! Alfie Boe is the only one who can save me <3333

[doriansredroses]

I know you all (most of you) said that I should do the gothic literature school au as my next fanfic, but I’m still very indecisive about everything. Which should I do? This also factors in my mental health and emotional state. I’m hardly able to focus on anything currently but writing is one thing I can sometimes do, rather than just staring into space. I am going to list everything below.

Jonathan in Wonderland: The title may not be finalized but it’s an Alice in Wonderland au starring Jonathan Harker! I plan to write it as if he’s documenting his adventure in his diary and I’ll draw in references from the original Dracula novel plus add my own twists. This is definitely more of a whimsically gothic story that combines the whimsy of my childhood (I’ve always been obsessed with Alice in Wonderland) and my love of gothic literature. It is the shortest fanfic on this list and will prep me for my bigger Dracula project I tried to write two months ago but couldn’t due to stress.

A Court of Music and Mischief: This is my Amadeus faerie au that pokes fun of the ACOTAR series (hence the name) that stars Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Antonio Salieri, and my own faerie oc that’s inspired by the Queen of the Night (vaguely inspired). It is the second longest fanfic in length on this list. Mozart and Salieri basically play Feyra’s role and my oc is in Tamlin’s. I hated ACOTAR but love faerie lore so this idea was sparked. I plan to take this down the dark fantasy route rather than gothic, taking inspiration from 80s fantasy movies like Labyrinth and a more modern book called The Kingdom of Back by Marie Lu. Amadeus is an 80s film and I’m using its release date to further my creative flow. The book is actually about Mozart’s sister and he also is a character featured in this historical fantasy retelling. I’m also absolutely obsessed with Mozart right now and that’ll probably be a lifelong craze. Salieri, yes I like him a lot as well. Should I do this fanfic?

Gothic lit school au: I don’t have a title yet nor is this very developed, but I’m thinking about setting it in college/university that’s dark academia and focuses on my favorite characters from gothic literature in a more modern/alternate dimension. I want to do this one because I love gothic literature, dark academia, and I definitely want to base this around the themes of melancholia, darkness, and good vs evil/morals. My only concern is that it’ll be too taxing right now since it’s the longest fanfic on this list and that it’s insanely dark. I’ve felt awful emotionally lately and a lot of my writing has reflected those feelings (melancholy, evil, etc). Part of me thinks I should do something more lighthearted and shorter. I put aside a novel length collab I wanted to do with a friend due to my mental health so I’m unsure about writing this right now.

Thoughts?

Tagging:

@xxiamtiebrousxx

@ilovegayvampires

@mysteryofvampires

@mushroomsie224

@fetchmearum420

@urcrocsrsoggy

I can’t think of anyone else right now because I’m so fried.

[misfithive]

Im really really hoping the theory about Wille having a birthday in s3 are true because i want Simon to give him a gift SO BADLY. I want it to be something sweet and whimsical and soft bc Wille deserves whimsy in his life. Even if it is a gag gift that Wille actually ends up keeping. I really want the stuffed animal frog like i mentioned in my unhinged s3 list bc its the opposite of the snow globe with the hard (now jagged) edges. Like a soft stuffed frog (no crown) it would be so cute :(((((( But really Simon giving Wille any kind of sweet simple gift would be so cute to me.

Editing to add a picture of what i am envisioning bc i’m annoying like that! Pls just imagine it !

[askthefranmily]

Do you have some songs you associate with the Fran bow characters? If so, who, and why?

🦈OH BOY YOU’RE IN FOR A TREAT

💛Fran💛

Hitorinbo Envy, specifically the Jubyphonic cover: the little girl in the animation looks like her, but it also reminds me of her struggles with losing her family, and finally finding one again with her silly little whimsical dads and her cat.

ALSO

Child of the stars by Fish in a Birdcage- this one I think would definitely be Itward to Fran. HE LOVES HIS DAUGHTER SO MUCH AUAGAGH.

💀Itward💀

Dan the Dancer by Mitski: Itward is really loving, he loves his daughter and his big fluffy husband and he loves all of the kids he’s a friend to. He loves to the point where it can even hurt him, like with Clara and Mia. The more romantic lyrics are more of him and palontras because I love them 💁

🌸Palontras🌸

Bird Song by Florence + The Machine: To me this fits him because it’s both him trying to repress his past but also his own darkness that the kamalas bring out in him.

🌳King Ziar🌳

Fallen Down by Toby Fox:

He just gives sweet grandpa vibes, and this song reminds me of that.

🐈‍⬛Mr. Midnight🐈‍⬛

Kagerou Days (also the Jubyphonic version, or any version rlly! That’s just my favorite one, and it’s in English): this one I feel like is Mr. Midnight towards Fran. I headcanon that the Mr. Midnight we see in the game that talks actually came from an alternate reality, and his Fran died. Fran’s REAL Mr. Midnight died (that’s why we see the cat in the grave) Itward helped bring them back together because there was no way they’d be able to find each other on their own. Mr. Midnight has seen Fran die, and I imagine is really heartbroken over it, and wants to do anything to keep her safe.

🩸Remor🩸

For the Departed by Shayfer James: because he’s MEAN and NASTY and tbh I just think this specific villain-coded song fits him really well.

🎭Mother Mabuka🎭

Who Is She? by I Monster:

I think this one explains itself

☀️The Great Valokas☀️

Dawn by CircusP: I think this one also explains itself

And a little wholesome bonus! I think My Love Mine All Mine is really cute for Itward x Palontras but also the franmily as a whole, THE WHIMSY DADS JUST LOVE THEIR KIDS SO MUCH AAAAA 😭

I’m ATTEMPTING to make nice playlists on Spotify for them! I’ll post them here as I finish them, but if y’all have any songs you think fit you should let me know, I’ll give them a listen and maybe add them!!!!🦈

[lotus-of-stardollop]

Personal opinion. I prefer the stylization of previous Animal Crossing games. I’ll use how the stars, rainbows, and aurora borealis looked as examples. This post will be a bit long.

New Horizons, when it comes to these things, opts for realism. The stars, rainbows, and aurora are all made to look more realistic than previous games. And while they all look great, I kinda prefer the stylized look in previous games. I’ll mostly use New Leaf as an example as that’s the only other one I’ve played.

The stars in New Leaf were very simple diamond star shapes, pretty cartoonish. And they’d change color, in a way where the colors would move across the shape, giving a twinkling look. The games before New Leaf didn’t have the color changing thing but the shapes of the stars were similar and they had their own ways to add that twinkling effect.

source

See how the colors move but the shapes stay the same? I loved that as a kid. It’s such a simple and cute way to get the twinkling look across.

Below are examples from Wild World and City Folk.

source and source

Their approaches to twinkling are different but still simple and stylized. Very cartoony looking stars, and I love it.

source

New Horizons has simple shapes as stars too. The twinkling effect is more like Wild World’s. But they’re a little too small for me to really notice that and the vast majority of them are tiny dots anyway. It gives a more realistic look in comparison to older games. And that’s not bad! I’m not saying any of the NH examples I show are bad, please keep that in mind going forward. I just personally prefer the stylization of previous games, especially New Leaf. New Leaf had a bunch of tiny dots for stars too but there were more bigger star shapes than in New Horizons, it was a good mix of dots and diamond shapes in NL.

Now on to rainbows. Look at how rainbows in New Leaf looked.

source and source

Compare that to New Horizons.

source

I just love how cartoonishly vivid the rainbows in New Leaf are. The ones in New Horizons are very faint in comparison. I believe they were actually pretty faint in City Folk as well? New Leaf’s just look like the cartoonish magical looking rainbows I like to think of. It’s more whimsical imo which, again, I prefer.

The aurora borealis is the biggest difference.

source

The aurora in New Horizons looks more realistic. And again, that’s great! It looks great. But I do prefer how it looked in previous games.

source and source

The aurora in City Folk and New Leaf feels actually magical. The gif for the New Leaf example is a bit choppy, I couldn’t find a smoother one but the colors moved across the shape more smoothly in the actual game. It uses the same technique it uses for the stars. An unmoving shape with colors moving across it. Something about this symmetrical wavy shape feels extravagant and mystical. I remember when I first saw the aurora in New Leaf I was in actual awe. My jaw dropped. I felt like I was witnessing something truly magical.

And I love that. I love the stylistic choices here; for the aurora, the rainbows, the stars. And I feel like these three things were the best examples for me to use for this topic of the previous games’ more stylistic approaches to things. Again - I want to reiterate - I do not hate how these look in New Horizons. I just prefer the previous games’ takes on the visuals of the world within Animal Crossing. And I just wanted to explain my thoughts on why I do.

I will add a few visual things I do love about New Horizons, tho I’ve hit the image limit so I can’t share any image examples but I’ll still provide links for examples. I love how wet everything looks when it rains in New Horizons. It adds a lot. I can almost smell the rain because of it. And I love how the leaves rustling in the wind look as well. Wind was introduced in New Horizons and it’s a great addition to the weather in the game. Same with fog and cloud patterns (sorry for the twitter link, I couldn’t find anywhere else that showed all the cloud types). Cloud patterns are always fun to see (tho I would love to see how they’d look if they were a bit more stylized too, there were cumulonimbus clouds in New Leaf but I like how they look in New Horizons more). I’ve never seen fog in my game cuz I never start playing the game early in the morning ;;. But it looks fantastic. I also absolutely love how the hardwood trees look in winter in NH. The frosty green color of the leaves just add to the, well, frosted-over look. And for meteor showers, it’s a tie between NH and NL for my favorite look lol. I just love how sparkly they are.

I just wanted to end this post with some visual things I do love about NH cuz I really didn’t want this post to come across as me hating on NH or even hating how these things look in NH. I have… admittedly a lot of criticisms on the game. But I don’t hate it. If I did I wouldn’t still be playing it lol

[esther-dot]

What upsets me the most about the dumbass Sansa vs Arya thing (other than it only existing because antis hate Sansa that much) is that... what does it add to the story? This isn't fandom stuff, this is something antis genuinely want for the story, but what does it ADD? What is the POINT? What value does these 2 siblings fighting against each other would give to the story? To the message and theme? It's even more worthless than the boring Cleganebowl shit.

Sansa and Arya, two siblings from the main family of the series that the story centers on, fighting and hating each other is detrimental to literally EVERYTHING. ASOIAF is LOADED with family dynamics that are actually toxic and destructive to the members. We have the Targaryens, we have the Greyjoys, we have the LANNISTERS. Westeros is so bereft of families that love each other, making the ONE family that genuinely love each other and doing their best to reunite hate each other is so... just spit on GRRM and the effort he put into House Stark, why don't you?

I don't want to sound like a pretentious ass, but these people should not read a series like ASOIAF if they're gonna let their petty feelings and opinions impact the series as a whole. They can hate Sansa, but if they hate her to the point where it impacts their reading of the series, then put it down and go read something simpler. Or just stick to fanfics because their disturbing hate fantasy will never be canon, sorry antis

(about this ask)

I talked about this before and now can’t find the post, but Arya and Jon fans who hate Sansa are holding her responsible for the problems with society that Martin is criticizing. They are missing that society is being criticized from different angles to allow us to see all the ways it’s hurting people. Rather than realizing it isn’t the little girl who caused their pain, with them we are getting two critiques (coming from different directions) of their world. Jon is excluded, Arya is expected to conform.

Jon wants in, Arya wants out.

And of course, Sansa suffers as well. She may fulfill the ideal in a way that Arya cannot, but that doesn’t save her. We have Elia and Lyanna which is another picture of conformity/non-conformity —both of them die. There is a much larger part of the story here that is the driving force of what these characters suffer, it’s a shame to dismiss all of that in order to hate on Sansa.

I have no gatekeeping instinct. I’m happy to read different takes (within reason — absolutely no Sansa hate which is why I don’t do much with anyone beyond our corner), I have read and written Martin critical stuff, I don’t mind people coming away with different interpretations. I enjoy that (within reason), and that’s a part of who I am beyond fandom so that isn’t gonna change. I simply decide, “well, I certainly never want to hear from that blogger/that part of the fandom again,” but as far as I know, they’re an angry 13yo who will reread the series in a year or two and realize, oh, the Sansa and Arya conflict is created by external forces, and actually, they can understand the pressures Sansa struggled with as well. I’m a big fan of leaving room for growth, and literature has a special way of allowing us to see things in new ways and helping us evolve as I individuals. I’d never be in favor of taking it away from anyone no matter how much I think they misunderstand it. You never know what the future holds and if one day, they’ll get it.

Also, I don’t have a perfect grasp on what Martin is doing myself. The endgame of some of the characters strikes me as….uh, less realistic, and more, whimsical, so unless I’m gonna throw out my books, I’m not gonna pretend to be more deserving than any one else. I will filter and block though because when it comes to Sansa haters:

making the ONE family that genuinely love each other and doing their best to reunite hate each other is so... just spit on GRRM and the effort he put into House Stark, why don't you?

So, uh, not to annoy you further, anon, but I didn’t call what I had written “wish-fulfillment” for nothing. 😬 I definitely think expecting the Starks to kill each other is absurd, but as a Jonsa, I’m not sure how Arya would be able to accept that relationship, and I do wonder if it’s Martin’s way of allowing tension and conflict within the Starks even upon their reunion. Maybe I worry for nothing, but Jon is Arya’s person, he made her feel love and accepted, for him to be in love with Sansa…I worry that Arya would feel displaced, and how quickly Martin would find a resolution there.

Many others have previously looked at how Martin seems to have no problem writing brothers / guys having healthy relationships, but likes to have sisters at odds. There’s a dearth of healthy female relationships, so it’s an opportunity for him to break that pattern, and if Arya was accepting of it I suppose it could be a contrast to the Cat/LF/Lysa mess. That may be the goal he’s working towards, and to your point, that adds to the story in sadly lacking area. All the same, while I do think the Starks love and will be loyal to each other, I’m not sure how warm and cozy things will be on the page? I have some concerns about what he’s making room for. But that is the benefit of being in a fandom with so many emotionally mature fic writers who value and prioritize female relationships. I get to read healthy relationships either way!

[neteyamb]

ashes to ashes: chapter six

pairing: loak x f!omatikaya reader

summary: as a healer, y/n had taken an oath to treat every patient with their best interests in mind. this hadn’t been a problem, until loak’s petty injuries become a routine. she has to swallow her pride and feign concern, feign kindness, and face the ugly hate that has been brewing between them for years. 

tags: enemies to lovers, confused and pining loak

word count: 2.1k

notes: im in poland rn and this is a little bit TERRIBLE but also very necessary.

 ⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･

billie bossa nova

love when it makes you lose your bearings / it might be more of an obsession / you better lock your phone / and look at me when you're alone / won't take a lot to get you goin' / i'm sorry if it's torture though / that heavy breathin' on the floor / i’m yours, i'm yours 

nova – a star that suddenly increases its light output tremendously and then fades away to its former obscurity

your eyes search loak’s for any insincerity. you had grappled with him over superiority for as long as you can remember, but for it to be offered to you made it feel like a default win or some dirty trick. you were still debating which would be worse. loak’s attention was glued to you so fiercely that you felt naked below his amber eyes; you abstain from looking at his face any longer, drawing your attention to the fresh scars that littered his body. you distantly note that they were healing nicely, fading slowly from harsh red to calm blue.

for him to come to you like this, almost grovelling–it was an insult of the lowest sort; if you had any respect for him before, it was because he wouldn’t back down. while he belittled you constantly, he never went easy on you, he would fight with everything he had. and now that he chooses to pity you, were you meant to fawn over his whimsical, clearly unplanned apology? familiar anger sank in your stomach and crawled up your throat. “i don’t owe you anything,” you shoot, crossing your arms over your chest. loak clenched his jaw, considering your words. 

he begins to wonder if his decision to confront you was made prematurely; even now, he had to refrain from jumping your bones in aggravation, from pinning you down and trying to taste your comebacks. he worries his lip, ripping his eyes away from the curve of your neck as if he hadn’t been getting acquainted with it for several moments. “no, you don’t–owe me anything,” he assents gruffly. 

you attempt to physically peel his heavy attention off of you, taking a further step back to rustle away the thick air. “oh, joy. our first agreement.” you begin to continue on your route, but he grabs for your arm in resolve, quick to stop you while his chest thuds wildly. you snarl at the path ahead. “wait. i can make you a deal.” it was desperate, and as the offer fled his lips he was frantic to come up with a feasible proposition. he couldn't afford to let you slip away a second time. you flinch, turning towards him once more with your patience wearing thin. he furrows his brows, averting his eyes as a panicked blush rises up his neck. “i can teach you how to hunt. formally.” he pauses, tilting his head towards you. “you could be a warrior.”

your ears perk at his proposal. of course, you were very familiar with the bow, but your failure to follow through with the pursuit of valid warrior training was a sore spot he consistently aimed at. you glare at him in warning, hoping for his sake it wasn’t just another jab to add to the pile. loak licks his lips, staring down at the grass. “it’ll be great,” he straightens his posture, flashing a hopeful, boyish grin. “promise.” 

✶✶✶✶

your stomach filled with regret as you walked towards the archery grounds the next afternoon. you were skeptical about being taught by loak, but if you ever wanted to fight alongside real soldiers, there wasn’t much choice; those willing to take time out of their day for one-on-one training were scarce, especially if you consider their teaching capabilities. jittery, you stressed the drawstring of your bow as you waited. 

loak approached the clearing with conviction in his step. he had never offered you help before, but he had quickly realized this past week that without you around, his focus and mood took a lethal hit; he’d be spacing out and then snapping at people for next to nothing. if he thought about it, this deal is moreso about helping himself rather than you. he just had to play nice, but not…not too nice. a tight smile crosses his face when he sees you, but it was directed a little over your shoulder instead of at yourself. 

loak had seen you shoot before, but watching your calculated gestures up-close was different; his brain fogged as he analyzed the way your shoulderblades flowed under cerulean skin, and he tripped over his words more times than he’d like to admit once he noticed the way the drawstring prodded at your lips when you took aim. he pushed down the irritating emotions that lapped at his belly, biting his tongue. 

after conquering every static target, the two of you shifted off-course towards moving ones. you followed him into dense trees for several minutes before coming across a yerik. crouching together behind a bush, you watch as it licks at a puddle and flicks its ear. it had been a significantly long amount of time since you had last pointed an arrow at a living creature, but loak gives you the go-ahead. you were annoyed that you put yourself in a position where you had to follow his orders, but still you take your aim, digging your knees into the dirt and straightening your back as you drew the string. you held your shoulders tighter than you knew was necessary, but you couldn’t shake off the fear of the probable humiliation you’d succumb to if you missed the shot. loak notices, shuffling closer and adjusting you with icy hands. you bristle under his touch, but keep your eyes on the yerik. 

his chin dips slightly at your hesitation; obviously you hadn’t practiced hunting much and this was just your first session, but if you were thrown onto the battlefield at this moment (as warriors often are, with little warning), you’d be struck down quicker than he could react. he'd have to drill into you the impluse to shoot reflexively if he wanted you to succeed. behind you, loak leans towards your ear, hair tickling at your collarbone. “release.” his voice is low, soft but not whispering. you suck in a breath, holding your position strong before ripping your hand away from the nock of the arrow. it hits the creature in the heart, and you don’t turn to meet loak’s approving expression before removing yourself from the bush and praying at its side. he’s light on his feet as he joins you, cutting in to correct your words no more than twice. 

✶✶✶✶

once you’ve finished carrying the animal back to the village to be preserved as dried meat, you’re quick to put some distance between yourself and loak in hopes of settling your nerves. he stands there quietly for a minute, permitting himself to indulge in the gentle sway of your long hair in the breeze as you leave. 

dusk crept over the village, and loak declined dinner in favour of laying in his hammock. he splayed his fingers over his abdomen in thought, gradually digging his fingernails into the skin until it stings. the more loak thought, the more it was maddening; you danced around his mind, most recurrently in your usual, taunting manner. now, though, he is able to remember what your body feels like against his. he’s known before from heated arguments followed by tense healing sessions, but those came with so much doubt and conflicted thoughts that he couldn’t make sense of what was a fantasy and what was reality. now, he could remember feeling just one thing at a time. and it was a curse. he remembers the way your chest pressed into his when your breath would hitch, he remembers the way your nails grazed his back, and he remembers the way your warm tongue moved in synchronization with his. 

sleep wouldn’t come to him. defeated, he rises to his feet with the intention of taking a cold shower. 

✶✶✶✶

you walked hip-to-hip with kiri like a conjoined twin as the sun settled in the sky, having just finished weaving practice. you were making steady progress, now able to create small armbands given that they have no ambitious details. you were walking her home; she had promised neytiri to keep an eye on tuk while she and jake went out. you stopped at the door, watching with a small smile as neytiri kissed her daughter’s forehead and ruffled her hair before heading off.

loak sat in his hammock, looking up at you with tired eyes. you wanted to laugh a little; he looked kind of wimpy with his sunken shoulders and downturned ears, but you decide against it. you didn’t want to risk losing the shiny new deal. still, facts are facts. “loak, you look like shit.” he grumbled an unintelligible response, swinging his bow over his back and walking out of the hut on quick feet. for a second, you weren’t sure if he intended on teaching you today–he’s sensitive when he’s grumpy. “you coming?” he threw over his shoulder as he walked past you, decidedly avoiding eye contact. 

you trudged deeper into the forest than before. the two of you didn’t talk, instead preferring to listen to the sounds of wildlife waking up. you came across another yerik, an older one that appeared to be female. you were ready to perform the actions you had yesterday, but before you could execute them, loak swiftly picked up a stone and chucked it beside the animal. he was not very talkative today, but it didn’t surprise you he’d do something like that without warning. still, annoyed, you toss him a questioning look. the fatigue had left his eyes, they were now bright and glowed in the shade. you wonder briefly when it had happened, and how it was possible you didn't notice until now.

“chase it,” he said, not waiting for you before running after it. you held your bow in a tight grip as you leapt over low branches, but you couldn’t deny it was difficult to properly place the arrow while keeping up. you shoot blindly before nudging past loak in the direction of the yerik’s wail. 

✶✶✶✶

the two of you had taken a wrong turn somewhere. you were lost, chests pleading for air. frustrated, you whack him with your bow. “that was entirely your fault!” you snap, eyes wild. still heaving, he whacks you with his own in return. he wasn’t in the mood today. “you have to learn to chase them, y/n. just because you can’t on the first try doesn’t mean it’s my fault.” you seethe, considering his reply. “still, i have no idea where we are,” he says, looking around in vain for any familiar landmarks. you huff. “yeah. now what, genius?” 

loak thinks for a moment, pouting his lips. the both of you could handle yourselves against the creatures of the forest, but the best thing to do was wait in the area until a search party was inevitably sent out. you'd be in a fuckton of trouble afterwards, but it'd do the job. “let’s spar,” he breathes. “good for training.” you look at him skeptically, eyes narrowed. “i think we’ve exercised that option enough,” you deadpan. loak chuckles, removing the quiver from his back and placing it on the ground next to his bow. he figures, if he can’t take his anger out on you, he has free reign to do what he will under the pretense of training. he’s convinced it’s a good idea, although maybe it has something to do with sleep deprivation. he nudges your shoulder. “hit me with your best shot.”

hesitantly, you put your bow and quiver next to his while eyeing him suspiciously, lips pursed. you had never hit loak because he asked you to, and this setting seemed…more formal than you were accustomed to. you lower your knees and place your hands out readily in defense. he mirrors your actions, feeling light; this was the first time he could breathe without a clenched chest in days. he felt alive. for a few seconds, you attempted to disarm him with telepathic mind games, but when it didn’t work, you made a kick for the back of his knees. he easily jumps around it, tail curling behind him with the adrenaline he had craved for days. loak grins, rounding your back to poke at it. you shiver, annoyed, before whipping around to meet his eyes.

“you’d be a sucker on the battlefield. don’t leave your back exposed.” you lower your arms briefly. he’s giving you advice, you realize. helpful, genuine advice. you feel a grin split your face. “noted,” you say, falling back into position. you circle him a little, keeping him in your line of sight with his words in mind. 

you’re able to get a few pushes in, but it was mainly chalked up to the fact that you knew loak's movements and habits so well. heart beating rapidly, he sweeps at your legs with one of his own and you fall to your back. he leans over you, pausing for a second to make sure you’re not winded. “i win,” he smiles cheekily, eyes darting quickly to your mouth. he taps your leg. “same goes for your legs. keep them strong.”

⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･

notes: how fourmillyour...

taglist: @weasleytwinwheezes @mrslandryy @amortencjja @tallulah477 @optimisticblazetrash

[elrielbaby]

Hello, friends!

I haven’t made a proper post of my own in some time, mainly just reposting. The toxicity of the ship war (and honestly, just the fandom in general) is not conducive to good mental health, and with there being no hint of any news I just found it draining. The thing is, we are all here because we love these books, and for many of us books in general. So before I get back to posting my own elriel related content, I wanted to share with you some books I’ve absolutely adored this year. Please feel free to reblog this and add your own!

Empire of the Damned by Jay Kristoff 🩸

This is the second book in the Empire of the Vampire series (first book of the same name) and it is a strong contender for my book of the year. Not for the faint of heart, this series is bloody, brutal and emotionally devastating - but my GOD what a world, what characters. They are flawed and full bodied, the world is desolate and grim, with such little hope but it is a corker!

All This Twisted Glory by Tahereh Mafi 💔

Okay so this is the 3rd book in the This Woven Kingdom series. The first book in this series I felt very luke warm about, but I liked it enough to continue. The second book in this series is when I began to get really excited, I started to fall in love. The third book? Get out of here, I’m obsessed. If you like stories that include Jinn, inspired by Persian mythology and absolutely jam packed with all the yearning, pining and painful brooding you could possibly ever imagine - this is the book for you. Small caveat, that not an awful lot happens in this book to move the story forward, but the MMC is so down bad that I loved it regardless.

A Fragile Enchantment by Alison Saft 🪡

This one really took my by surprise. This is set in a regency era setting with a sprinkling of magic (and I do mean a light dusting) with a Lady Whistledown style sub plot that really did have me guessing. Our main character, Niamh, has the magical ability to imbue clothing with feeling - and has been hired by the Royal Family to make clothes for the Princes upcoming nuptials. Except there’s a chemistry to Niamh and the broody, irritable Prince Kit that is undeniable. Couple that with a growing unrest of the Macklish that threatens the Royal Fam, it all leads to a very delicious story. I didn’t expect to love this but it truly worked it’s way in to my heart.

Emily Wildes Map of the Otherlands by Heather Fawcett 🧚

This is the second book in the Emily Wilde series but as with the first book I absolutely adored this. It is whimsical, mildly cosy. Emily goes through one of the best character arcs I’ve ever read, and Wendell may be the best blonde haired fictional man to ever exist. If you love proper Faerie stories, you will love this.

Sword Catcher by Cassandra Clare ⚔️

This was an absolutely impeccable start to what I think is going to be an epic fantasy series. Forbidden romance, political intrigue, an interesting magic system and world to boot. I cannot wait for the next book!

The Crimson Moth (aka Heartless Hunter) by Kristen Ciccarelli 🦋

I absolutely devoured this. Witch and witch hunter. Courting for the sake of trying to discover the others secrets, angst, brooding, betrayal. I’m loathe to say anymore lest I give away more than I should. But this is for sure one of my favourite books of the year. I read it so fast, I think about this daily. Please please please, give it a go - you won’t regret it!

The Road of Bones/Kingdom of Claw by Demi Winters 🪓

The Road of Bones was a 5⭐️ read I absolutely loved it, but it’s sequel KoC has made its way into the 6⭐️ category for me. Viking inspired fantasy, with impeccable world building, the romance in this is also chefs bloody kiss. I can’t recommend it enough. Silla isn’t a typical girl boss (I love a girl boss don’t get me wrong) and she got me through the missing Elain Archeron hours.

The Aurelian Cycle (Fireborne, Flamefall & Furysong) by Rosaria Munda 🐉

I loved this so much because it started from a different place than most fantasy stories. In this, we start 10 years post Revolution of a regime that was ruled by the Dragon Lords, who over taxed the poor and meted out brutal punishments to people who’s only crime was being poor and hungry. Our main characters met in an orphanage in the wake of the revolution, but they could not have come from more different backgrounds- and yet they love each other anyway. The political intrigue and emotional complexities of this story was superb. 10/10

The Ember Quarter (An ember in the ashes, a torch against the night, a reaper at the gates and a sky beyond the storm) By Sabaa Tahir 💀

I’m so incredibly late to the party but I’m glad I arrived nonetheless. What an epic tale, what a fantasy story. You truly set off at a running pace with this one - it feels like there’s very little stopping time. Every word and page of this story is used to its full effect. I’m in awe of this authors story telling prowess. It broke my heart, but by god how I loved it.

[laulovecaster]

I'm starting a new project! Calling it my Firefly sweater. This is the 2.0 version because the first didn’t really come out the way I wanted it to and I want some kind of redemption 😅

The main reason and inspo behind this design is Shygirl's song "Firefly" and I guess to an extent her whole album Nymph. The design is informed by the albums visuals and some of the musical/lyrical themes which point to nature. "Firefly" itself is rather whimsical and so I hope to have a smidge of that in the final design. I feel like Bjork's "Joga" is a sister to this.

The idea is basically a long sweater or even a sweater dress of sorts. I’m trying to think of some different silhouettes that I don’t typically find and play around with interesting fit and shape. Nothing too crazy, and I know I'm not doing anything that hasn't been done before, but that’s one of the aspects I like about designing! I’d like to, every now and then, make something beyond the typical cut of sweaters, shirts, or vests.

These are some of the things that come to mind as a point of inspiration and reference to what this may look like in the end.

I don't tend to sketch my ideas, so I don't have a drawing of my vision at this time. When I do sketch (as seen in figure 1) it is often more to help visualize a pattern. In this case the sweater will have two sections. The bottom edge will be the lime green mohair and it will meet and change into the blue wool.

I knew I wanted to revisit this idea and I had a burst of inspiration while on a trip to Newfoundland with my dad this past spring. We drove across a good portion of the island and the landscapes out the window really helped me re-envision the design. I was particularly enamoured with the fjords we passed through, so that is what I hope to emulate at the colour change.

I made a large swatch. It's a little wonk because i was trying to test the best way to add the wool to the mohair. I quickly figured out what would be best so I half stopped doing my test but kinda continued it but then just gave up. But the important thing is I figured out what I'm going to do.

I have never worked with mohair before. I will be holding it double and I hope that things go smoothly 🤞🤞 currently there are hairs every where, in everything.

I'm trying to blog more.. idk. I've always loved tumblr and kinda prefer it over other social media. So I hope to keep posting updates like these. I will also be vlogging this shit as I'm trying to be a youtuber lololol. So look out for this but in video form.

If you read this all thanks!

[pretentious-art-love]

Book Reviews #15 - The Sword in the Stone by T. H. White

I started the collection of The Once and The Future King by recommendation of a friend. This is the first book of the whole collection. Now, this a chosen one narrative. I often find chosen one narratives rather uninspiring. Fate, blood lines, all that, none of those things mean anything to me at all, but how does the story perform overall?

There will be spoilers, so beware.

This is a nice story, although it is not much of a story, but a short of fables with Wart's childhood as a wrap. This is my first true contact with any fiction about King Arthur, but naturally I have heard since my childhood the legend of the sword in the stone and the challenge of pulling it out, so I was in a way still familiar with the concept.

White paints Wart as a bit of an awkward, nerdy boy. Merlyn, his mentor, transforms him into several animals as part of his "education" and in there he sees all the kinds of societies that nature is part of. Societies that mirror human ones, the belligerent ants, the wise badgers, the owls, the fishes, and my favorite of them all, the wild geese. There is an abundance of humor and child like wonder in the story, nothing gets ever so serious, and Wart is depicted as mostly an spectator to all these kinds of worlds that the writer uses to show different sides of the human being.

The wild geese transformations were my favorite chapters. If I couldn't choose to be human, I think I’d love to be a goose. That feeling of freedom, of flying over the sea—I’m going to miss it dearly. I’ll miss Lyok and the 'cockneyfied' birds. To live in a world stretched horizontally, shaped only by relentless wind and endless waves beneath me—that’s a sensation you can’t replicate. The acrobatics, the silly birds on the islands, the freedom to fly farther than any human ever could… I think someday I’d like to read a whole book about what it feels like to be a bird, soaring away.

Merlyn is also an interesting character because (pardon me for viewing old stories through a modern lens) I feel he is an autistic person. The living backwards in time, knowing things that will happen but not things that happened as if in being in he's own wavelength. To me, it feels like a "medieval fantasy" take on autism. Of course, he isn't really coded to be that, so he not just knows things we don't know, but he also seems to grow younger, and even have been in centuries way past his life time, as he by accident gets a hat he worn in 1890 in one occasion. He is not a character that is supposed to make sense, but give occasional comedic relief and add world building. His motto about "learning" being the only thing that can cheer you up no matter anything is also fantastic.

About the chosen one thing, yes, it is still a chosen one narrative. Merlyn can only transform Wart into animals, not even Kay, and my friend said that "he was chosen because he would work" but this is not true, because in the very last chapter Merlyn reveals he is in fact the son of the previous King Pendragon. Now now, that doesn't mean the story is bad, because I think the writer is doing something interesting here. The scene where Arthur pulls out the sword is rather comedic and very anticlimactic, with Wart being the only one who is around to pull it out the first time. The narration skips most of the events after this with a quick narration to his coronation and leaves Wart intact at his core. I feel that the writer, while he did not reject the chosen one narrative, he made the protagonist indifferent to it, subverting any sort of fulfillment we could gain from it and in that way erasing my biggest complains in a story of this kind. Wart is never depicted as someone hungry for power, but someone who wants to fight evil. In this iteration of the story, Wart is a spectator in a world filled with silly rules and conventions designed to make us think about the own reality we live in, all this done in a heartfelt and whimsical manner.

How would I do it? I was thinking about the scene a lot. I thought, if I ever came into a situation that was as blatant as picking up a sword of a stone, I would be able to pick out my sword not because I was chosen, but because I choose to pick up the sword, because everything I did in my existence was to pick up the sword, so in reality, I would not be the person who would pick up the sword, but it would be sword that fits the most for my own purposes and goals the one I decide to take out. The moment that Sir Ector and Kay realize that Arthur in fact will be a king they kneel down and treat him like royalty is quite an ecstatic moment to me [THEY WEREN'T MEAN AT ALL LIKE IN THE MOVIE THEY WERE NICE WITH HIM ALWAYS IF YOU SAW THE ANIMATED MOVIE JUST SO YOU KNOW THAT MOVIE IS A LIE A LIE A LIE A LIE], in that moment the story turns into a secret identity story and the big reveal and change in reaction always brings me butterflies, you know, its like when people treat you as a girl the first time and call you by your new name and are a bit more delicate with you, it is such a wonderful feeling to experience that moment when you start being treated like your true self.

There are some colorful characters I really like, like King Pelinoire (who is only King on name, and who inspires me to be a Queen as well), Archimedes, who is a shy but also wise owl (when I looked clips of the animated movie to see his expressions, they completely ruined him making him in someone as irascible as Rabbit of Winnie the Pooh but less anxious), as well as Lyok and the charming hedgehog who would not uncurl.

As it stands, I would have rated it a 6/10, a solid tale with funny fables carrying a naive but also affectionate view of the world and that add a lot o color to an already old established tale, but those Geese chapters elevate the whole thing to me to greater heights.

7/10