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#the little sweater and everything!!!
wonkastarshine · 14 days
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IM LITERALLY DEAD FREDDIE HIGHMORE REPRISED HIS ROLE OF CHARLIE TO MAKE FUN OF THE GLASGOW WILLY WONKA DISASTER
youtube
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levmada · 9 months
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HES SO FUCKING CUTE
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n4rval · 5 months
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tea with a stranger.
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wormswurld · 3 months
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*lights cigarette* i need a fucking break 😔
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ambered-glazed-sheep · 4 months
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new amber ref/slight redesign!
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overleftdown · 4 months
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i saw this review a bit ago and i've been thinking about it a lot. i want to talk about it. i love hilton als, good god (although how could you hate any character more than oliver? i suppose it's the reality of people like farleigh).
"...while leading a nearly completely fictive life and pretending said gallery isn't paying them to be black. or some branch of show business. authenticity is their enemy, and declaiming 'whiteness'--usually in the press--covets it, reveres it. emotional exhibitionism is all, but not truth--if they could find it." this is such a poignant explanation of what it means to be colored and to exploit said color. declaiming whiteness covets authenticity. emotional exhibitionism is all, but not truth. GOD.
this concept of what it means to utilize your marginalization--to externalize it, to remove yourself from it only until it's useful, to disconnect so ardently from that which is a part of you. it's something i've thought about a lot. als' specific words get me, "the piddling career." because it is piddling, isn't it? god, is it meaningless and pathetic. it makes me think of archie's quote, "i understand this sort of peddling you're doing, trying to catch up to these people."
when i look at farleigh, i see him the same way i see the other boys at school that try so hard to obey whiteness and everything that comes with it. i see him the say way i see my younger self, surrounded by invisible strings that i was terrified of tripping into. running away from something so uncomfortable that you'll use any self-contained currency you own. unsure of when to use your race for the sake of social credit, or when to attempt some odd form of camouflage that never really works. and there's other things that follow or maybe prelude that; your body, your name, the fabric of what makes you an individual. it's heartbreaking and terrifying all the same.
i guess farleigh is my own form of escapism, in the way that i can imagine whatever future i'd like for him. i can imagine that he learns to love, deeply and entirely, what it means to be hurt and heal from it. maybe i kind of do resent part of this fandom for unknowingly attacking my hopeful imagination. whether they hate the character or whether they create their own imaginative realities of farleigh that don't really fit into mine. i have an unhealthy attachment to this character, basically. chatterboxing, who's abt to step into the ring w me?
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lostinw0nderlandd · 7 months
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shewhoeatssand · 6 months
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This is what perfect looks like
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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learning how to crochet is like my ultimate dream because it means i can weave the ugliest chunkiest grossest itchiest grandpa sweaters exactly tuned to my tastes instead of hoping that i can scrounge the old navy men's section in january but unfortunately i've started a little over a day ago and i haven't made a sweater yet which i think is pretty lazy of me so :/
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softquietsteadylove · 19 days
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I’m glad you liked the idea!! The result was so perfect and sweet as usual. Here’s another if you’re interested/have muse! Words: curiousity, animals, whispering
Gil gulped, trying to focus on plating more appetizers as the guests mulled about. For the most part, they were scattered around the rest of the sprawling estate, but some of them had gravitated towards the kitchen naturally out of eagerness for the next round.
And they kept whispering.
He couldn't make out what they were saying, of course, but Gil knew when he was being whispered about. He had grown up as a husky but strong boy who loved cooking, he was no stranger to feeling like an animal in a zoo. But the scrutinising glares of a couple dozen millionaires were more than enough to put him on edge.
He dabbed at some sweat on his forehead and heard a giggle behind him. He was glad he had the steam and stove and various other heat sources to blame for the flush in his skin. Clearing his throat, he turned with the platter in hand. "More hors d'oeuvres--canapes with cavier and brie crostini with blackberry and prosciutto."
"How delightful!"
"Wherever did Thena find a specimen like you?"
"I simply must get the recipe to my own chef!"
Gil just smiled, setting down the platter for them to maul at will. He slipped backwards, eager for the refuge of the inner kitchen again. When Thena had described this as a 'monsters' ball' of a soiree, she wasn't kidding.
She had warned him that the guests were technically allowed wherever they wanted to be, including his own space, as much as she wanted to discourage it. There were also warnings about how rude they could be, even if the words were polite, as well as not to let any of them subtly try to poach him from her.
As if that were possible; he had no desire to work for anyone but Thena.
Only a few more hours and it was over. Even if there were still guests lingering, Thena had made it very clear that he could leave after 11. It was pretty sweet, all things considered. It wasn't uncommon for the chef to be stuck there catering to everyone's desires until guests had left, and then clean up after everything too.
"Sir, the food is being received splednidly!"
"Jesus!" Gil cursed, gripping the pocket of his chef's jacket over his heart as Karun - yet again - materialised out of thin air. He glared at him, "dude!"
Karun just chuckled, though, not minding the casual speech in the least. "The Madam is the envy of all present, thanks to you and your recipes, sir. I have heard only glowing reviews throughout the party."
Well, no chef disliked hearing that. And if the guests weren't going to compliment him so honestly, then at least he could hear it from someone he trusted. They hadn't said anything bad of course, but even when they were saying nice things, he really felt like he couldn't believe anything any of them were saying.
"The Madam knew, of course. I have never heard her praise anything so highly as your food!"
Sometimes Gil really wondered if Karun exaggerated Thena's words, at all. She was just so quiet, so hard to read. It was hard to imagine her going on at length about...well, anything. And yet Karun made it sound like it was something she gushed about.
"Where is Thena?" Gil asked, even looking around in hopes of catching a glimpse of her bright blonde hair. He wiped his hands on the towel tossed over his shoulder. "I haven't seen her since the doors opened."
She had stopped by before getting ready, while he was still preparing everything. She had seemed a little nervous, actually, hovering around his prep work as if to procrastinate putting on her fancy dress and doing her hair.
"Ah, the Madam has many guests to entertain," Karun lamented, although still with the same immovable smile on his face. He straightened his bow tie. "Although, she did mention fetching something from the wine cellar."
"Huh," Gil murmured, still wiping his hands, mostly to occupy them with something. He didn't have anything on the fire currently, although he had considered that he could use some sparkling just to float on top of the personal panna cottas. "Maybe I'll see if she needs a hand with anything."
Gil walked down the stairs to the fancy underground wine cellar with heavy steps. He just needed a second wind to get through the rest of the evening. If he could have a little snack and push out the desserts then he would have a clear board. There were dressed up wait staff walking around with drinks and trays of his food anyway.
Maybe Karun had planned it, but Gil turned the corner and found Thena. She was seated on one of the crates yet to be unpacked, probably full of bottles that cost more than his whole salary. She was hunched over a little plate of food with her legs crossed, the slit of her dress exposing the length of them, while also pooling unceremoniously on the floor with her heels. Her hair was still pinned tightly at the back of her head, although he was guessing that the sparkly clip sitting beside her had been in it until she got down here.
She still looked gorgeous, although he had to admit he was more fond of the way she looked first thing in the morning, enjoying one of his omelettes.
"Oh," she looked up, not rushing to polish her appearance again. She rearranged her dress somewhat, starting to slip her stocking feet back into her shoes. "I was-"
"Hey, it's okay," he rushed. He could only assume she had taken off the high heels because her feet were killing her. "I won't tell."
She smiled at him, thankful for his secrecy. She did indeed slip her feet back to the tile floor, holding her rations preciously. "Did you come to escape them as well?"
"Escape them?"
She glanced upward in the direction of her own party, "the animals."
Gil snorted. He had certainly thought of them as such, but he hadn't exactly thought Thena did too. At least, not so literally. "I thought you knew at least some of them."
But she looked downtrodden, bordering on miserable. Gil immediately thought of the times in his life when he felt like a shy little outcast, sitting alone at lunch or being excluded from playing with others. "I suppose I am acquainted with a few of them. But this is largely a networking event. It is my turn to host it, nothing more."
He didn't exactly know everything about Thena's super fancy lifestyle. Actually, he knew very little about it. But he was confident in saying that she didn't ask for any of it, let alone like it. "Really sounds like more of a pain in the ass, than anything."
He usually didn't swear in front of Thena (his boss). Well, he didn't always talk in front of her at all. But she smiled again, her finger playing with a sprig of green onion that had tumbled off a canape. "I would have to agree."
Given that this was the most he and Thena had ever exchanged in terms of words or conversation, Gil decided to push further. He abandoned the search for champagne in favour of leaning against a stack of crates facing her. He slipped his hands in his pockets, although he immediately wondered if it was coming off as 'trying too hard'. "Is there anyone here you like at all?"
She looked up, stared him dead in the eyes, and said, "you."
Gil blushed.
Thena looked down at her lap again. She didn't rush to correct her statement, but her fidgeting with her plate increased as she brought her knees closer to her chest. "Not that I make for good company."
"What?" he laughed, hoping she would follow suit. "I'd rather be down here with you than up there, anyway."
She didn't quite take it as the compliment he intended, but she did look up again. Her lip set in a firm line, "have they been pestering you? I did attempt to make it clear that you were to be left to your work."
They had circled him like sharks observing a wounded dolphin. "I haven't really noticed them."
Thena scowled down at her beet cured salmon rosette. "Not one of them is of the mind to brush elbows with their own staff. I knew that your food would entice them into playing nice, but I did hope they would have some decorum."
He definitely got the impression that, while happy to sing his praises here and now, working for them was probably a nightmare. He would much rather be here with Thena, hiding from her own guests like ne'er do wells under the bleachers.
Thena blinked as he stole the rosette right off her plate. "I beg your pardon."
He gave her a grin, chewing it thoroughly. It turned out well! "What?--you were just playing with it. Someone should enjoy my work."
Her lips tugged up again and he really noticed how the red colour made them look even fuller than usual. "I did not realise my secret stash would have to be shared."
Gil shrugged, leaning forward to steal something else. Despite her teasing reproach, she leaned back and offered her plate to help him select something. He grabbed the remaining half of a mini buratta with a disk of tomato gelee and air crisped basil. He'd never created such pretentious finger food in all his life, but that was exactly what the animals wanted, according to Thena.
"I took two of everything and came down here nearly an hour ago," she confessed, hanging her head in guilt. She finally picked up the blackberry from her crostini and ate it. "Mingling with them is simply beyond my threshold for suffering."
She said 'they're a bunch of assholes' so eloquently.
"I guess I don't blame you," Gil chuckled, taking the rest of the crostini she had left after claiming just the fruit from it. "It's your party, your house--if you wanna play hooky, then who cares."
"Play hooky?" she furrowed her brows at the expression.
He laughed again, which she seemed to take as a scathing mockery of her ignorance. His expression softened and he leaned off the crates.
Thena drew her shoulders up but ultimately made room for him on her crate as he sat down next to her. It was neither too small nor comfortably large. He managed not to touch butts with her, but there was nothing he could do about his shoulder brushing hers.
He glanced at her from his position of having to somewhat perch himself on the corner, "aren't you cold?"
Thena's cheeks took on the most charming shade of pink he'd ever seen in his life. Now that he was closer to her, he could see the faint tremor in her hands and shoulders. She looked down at her plate again, positively mortified. "Freezing."
Poor thing was so eager to leave her own party that she would rather freeze by herself in the wine cellar than mingle a little. Gil immediately wished he had something on under his chef's jacket (although that would only ever create more of a sweating problem).
Gil put his hand on hers, which really was startlingly cold to the touch. "If you don't wanna come up to the kitchen, I get it. Some of your guests do keep poking their heads in."
That certainly was enough to keep her rooted in place.
He gave her frigid hand a squeeze, "but I'll bring you something, okay? Something to warm you up in hiding."
Thena looked up at him as he stood, preparing to leave her again. Those big, dazzling green eyes of hers pleaded with him, "hurry back?"
He would let all of the desserts burn if he had to. He lingered at the door just to wave to her, "I'll grab more rations for us too."
The brightened expression on her face at the promise of his lengthened return was blinding. It was more than enough to convince him to set the desserts out all at once and whatever happened, happened. As far as he was concerned, the guest of honour was down here freezing her butt off, the least he could do was grab a cup of hot cocoa and his hoodie and some more snacks for her.
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taylorshope · 5 months
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Wearing collared sweaters just like my forefathers (Erin and Anthony)
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suave-hogan · 7 months
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A package from @kingcorvuscreations came in today! You know what that means!
Some little guys have arrived!!
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The silly
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Tiny Sung looks so mischievous >:3c
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If you like this selection, you should check out their shop! There are a few more items there to choose from as well.
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problemcore · 2 years
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late night avm doodles. i like these guys.......
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Sweather AU masterpost
Because all the links are broken now that I changed my username we're redoing things and just putting them into chronological order, that's probably less confusing
The Original Sin (The Tea Party sweater theft)
Akai family revelations (Part 1/Part 2/Part 3)
Rei realizes he has a problem™
The Last Briefing
The Immediate Aftermath
Dinner for Two
Bonus thoughts, loosely canon to this AU until they're incorporated properly:
Akai family shenaniganry
Hiding in plain sight, if one is optimistic and can look up (so, not one Furuya Rei)
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moe-broey · 6 months
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DEVASTATING. Guy who was born to hang out can't even do that right
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