#AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH

[nattaphum]

TOO MUCH HOTNESS IN ONE PIC 🔥

[inkzectz]

[tears in my eyes]

Wow this brain/heart symbolism got a little kick in it😅

[ana-cantskywalker]

having a hard time keeping my composure in a car full of my family members because

THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS

*incoherent screeching*

[bakawitch]

OMFG MY UNCLE HAD A COPY OF ZORK AND IT MIGHT BE IN HIS ATTIC AND HE'S GONNA GIVE IT TO ME IF HE FINDS IT!!!

[merlins-mervelous]

Guys I put the character in a situation again...

[dear-mrs-otome]

Silvio season is almost upon us!!! 🐕

[bird-in-a-fish-cage]

UH YEAH HI I COULD NOT HANDLE THE END OF SEASON 1. EXCUSE ME? I'M SO UNWELL

[quirefeast]

I conquered the challenge… I’ve done it……….. I AM VICTORIOUS!!!!!!!

[divine-knight-hand]

❤️‍🔥 Quick warning! There’s some brief mentions of murder and child death ahead!

Me: I think it would be great if we had [character] from [media] be the person that contributed to one of the most pivotal points in my parame’s life. The one that originally launched her into her corrupted sense of justice, you know? I think now that she’s since “reformed” for the sake of doing things in a more structured and relatively ethical way, it would be a great idea to give her this little blast from her dark past and shake things up a bit. It also makes sense because the figure in her origin killed a kid in front of her, and [character] is canonically a child murderer. Can’t go wrong with continuity! Also, we can have him haunt her so that she actually has a reason to be afraid of him when he shows up, instead of being a pathetic little wimp at the most random times just so she doesn’t seem too overpowered. Also, since [character] is her new boyfriend’s dad, it would add an interesting point of “Wow, a person I grew to fear and loathe so much helped create and parent a person I grew to love so much…” and that internal conflict would just be pretty neat to explore. Well, what do you think?

My brain: I think it should be [a different character from a completely different media].

Me: Okay. Random choice. But, why?

My brain: We hate his face.

Me: …You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

[chuuyasmonster]

dont mind me just missing bsd

[allmoshnobrain]

why is my life always so busy

[princemick]

she was so positive n so kind and so like, so praise!!!!!

[st-louis]

martin and mats

[satibogurl]

WAH- The baby.. HES BEING SUCH A BABY!

So tiny and like.. mini.. and it made a little noise..

[dear-mrs-otome]

Holy FUCKING CHEESE STICKS I JUST REMEMBERED WE'RE LESS THAN A WEEK TO SILVIO RELEASE

[elenille]

Dear Whatever,

I hate that you fucking smoke.

I love the look of your fingers when they pick the cigarette up and bring it to your lips.

I hate the way you complain about having grey hairs.

I love the weary golden glint of your hair as it curls over your forehead.

I hate the way you trail off into an incomprehensible mumble in the middle of a sentence.

I love that despite this, I always know what you mean.

I hate being so uncomfortably aware of your position in the room every minute of the day.

I love turning around and noticing you quickly avert your eyes, as if you, too were uncomfortably aware.

I hate that you don't read books.

I love that you still bring up me walking into the office with an open book in hand, your face beaming.

I hate how hard it is to make you laugh.

I love how my stomach trembles and twists when I finally manage to.

I hate how forgetful you are.

I love that you still remember the name of the bus stop closest to my house despite only having been there once.

I hate how long at night you stay working at your desk.

I love when you turn around with that tired shadow washing over your face and ask me, "Beer?"

I hate that you don't take better care of yourself.

I love refilling your water bottle and bringing sunscreen along because you definitely won't.

I hate how bitchy you get during a long trip.

I love passing you the earphones or the crosswords and seeing you content for the next five minutes.

I hate how annoyed people get when you share your favorite stories or memories for the hundredth time.

I love how excited you get when you share them for the hundredth time.

I hate being in a vulnerable position and needing you to protect me at times.

I love that you do it anyway (and even rile yourself up, like a proper knight in a shining armor).

I hate admitting that I don't know or understand something in front of you.

I love how you put everything on hold, lean over my shoulder, take the mouse out of my hand, and explain it to me at length and with patience, as if you had nothing more important to do (I know you do).

I hate that your smile always has a sad line to it.

I love seeing it lingering at the corner of your mouth when you stare off into space, lost in your thoughts.

I hate how we have almost no interests in common.

I love how you walked the streets of Perugia by my side, looking as awed by the sights and the history as me.

I hate how we argue about everything.

I love being the last two people sitting at the pub table at midnight, passionately arguing about something trivial and meaningless.

I hate seeing you dance with other people.

I love seeing you dance.

I hate how stressed and frustrated you get when things aren't going the right way.

I love being by your side when it happens and absorbing some of that stress and frustration.

I hate living so far away from you.

I love how faint your voice was when you asked me to take the next bus home so we could get another drink.

I hate how we're always talking about work.

I love when you whisper to me "Don't tell anybody I told you...", then share something that would definitely get you in trouble if it turned out.

I hate how ugly, fat and out of place I feel next to you.

I love how desired I feel when I see your eyes slip down to my lips when I'm talking to you.

I hate how much I depend on your approval.

I love to feel that you are proud of me.

I hate how nothing physical can ever happen between us.

I love the electric thrill it gives me to feel your knee brush against mine under the table.

I hate how I just lied, because except for the fucking smoking, I hate nothing about you.

Also, I think I love you.