ever since i finished kotw, ive been desperately wating for pride's book. not that ive finished tpt and know the next book coming out is greed's, i know pride's would be last and its all i can do not to sob 🥲
I don't know what writers thinking when they made Danny end up with Sam.
Seriously, this girl is so toxic that i could write an essay. Except that, she didn't have chemistry with Danny! Not even as friends!
Danny and Valerie, on the other hand, made so much sense. First of all, they actually had chemistry. They were the classic trope enemies to lovers. They had similar lives. They understood each other. And even when they were fighting, they acted like an old married couple. Valerie loved him for him and not the superhero he was like Sam who dumped him when he decided to be normal again.
Writers should show the reaction of Valerie when she learned the truth and they should made them endgame.
Valerie was way better as character. She had a backstory, we saw her difficult life and how she is trying to help her father. She is the villain Danny made and i love that.
Sam "i am different from the other girls" Manson is just being annoying.
Change my mind.
ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x07 - “Pretend Like It's the First Time”
The inevitability of Fate
Happy Arcane Chapter 2 Day , enjoy 💙
Thanks for all the love and support on my last piece 🩷💙
TIMEBOMB DOUBTERS, WHO’S A FUNNY-LOOKING RAT NOW?
I can't do this rn
They are vibing, your honor 😌
— How The King Of Elfhame Learned To Hate Stories by Holly Black
timebomb is literally so crazy like. i do not usually fuck with enemies to lovers as a trope but childhood friends to enemies to lovers just hits Different. and even when they were enemies they still cared about each other? ekko never being one of the voices in jinx’s head even when she thought she had killed him on the bridge? ekko admitting that he gave up on her realizing he never quite stopped loving her? fucks me up so bad. ekko surviving the bridge fight becoming the only person jinx has failed to kill ensuring he’s the only one who could have brought her out of her spiral, the living proof that she can be more than just a jinx… they fuck me up soooo bad
Peeta is always open to drawing or painting anything for Katniss and she's frequently taken him up on it. It's usually not that difficult for him, he loves the chance to paint, to refine his skills. Katniss loves having not only a reminder of certain memories but also a physical representation of Peeta's enduring and almost quiet love for her. And it's easy. Natural. That is until Katniss looks at Peeta one day and asks, "Would you do a self-portrait for me?"
That's hard for him. The sketches are never quite right, the colors are off. Katniss doesn't ever nitpick at his paintings, and she isn't being unkind or anything, but she always looks at the drafts with an uncertain expression only to say, "Somethings not right, Peeta."
Peeta gets frustrated. Why can't he just do this painting? He asks Katniss what is off about the sketches, and it's always a thousand little things. His eyes aren't that severe. He's supposed to have freckles there. His mouth is softer in real life. His hair doesn't curl like that. His expression is off. He can never seem to get it right. What is it about this painting?
They're lying on the couch one day when Katniss says, "Maybe you just can't see yourself the way I do."
That makes him curious. How does she see him? They start trying to figure that out. He says that she should describe his face to him as if he were a plant for the book, and maybe they could arrive somewhere accurate.
Katniss finds it a little funny, even odd, he's himself. He has to be more familiar with his own face than she is, but she humors him. They sit down in his studio together and begin.
It becomes an exercise in getting to know her, somehow, on a level that he hadn't explored before. She spends a long time talking about the shape of his eyes, the fan of his eyelashes, and the color of his irises. Her cheeks stain with embarrassment, and his heart knocks against his ribs, trying to escape, maybe even trying to reach out to her.
She has something to say about details he'd never even thought of before. The angle of his chin, the exact colour of his hair. She has descriptions that don't make much sense to him too. His smile is like spring and his scars are like marigolds. When given time, Katniss ends up arranging a whole bouquet of wildflowers with her descriptions.
He loves her. He already knew that. Heck, people on the other side of the country already knew that, but he'd had no idea, somehow, he still had no idea the depth of Katniss's devotion. It's beautiful and seemingly never-ending and it fills his own heart with joy.
They create the portrait together, after many hours spent alone. It's a painting of his own face, yet, it holds a deep intimacy and he can't seem to look at it without smiling and blushing like a fool. He doesn't think of it as his, even if it's a painting of himself, the painting is wholly Katniss's. He presents it to her when he's finished and Katniss smiles warmly, looking down at it with such affection. She hangs it in the hall, near the bench where she keeps her arrows so she can look at it when she leaves every morning and when she comes back home. That part of the house is very private, he doesn't even really go there that often, so it feels special. To know that Katniss wanted to bring him there with her, in her own way.