#but i wanted him to have a blog anyway lmao

[the-cauldron-witch]

Howdy T'Witch! It makes me so happy that you got your blog all up and designed! Those are big days and I’m happy that it looks so good! Hopefully you think so too!

I say that your writing requests were open and I’d love to pick your brain on some light angst if you’re up for it! No worries if you ain’t because hey understandable. The holidays be crazyyyyyy 🤪

But maybe to something to think about if you’re bored and whatever. But I wanted to ask on how do you think the Bayverse Boys would respond to you (y/n) getting amnesia and forgetting about them completely for whatever reason for how ever long? Do you think they’d try to rejog their memory or try to love them better with the chance of a fresh start? Or something else entirely. I am curious and I’d love to hear your thoughts if you’ve got the time and energy. Thanks for existing!

Hey Anon! (It’s weird to type this and have you not actually be an anon lmao)

I am very happy I finally have my blog up and running how I like, it finally feels like a little home to me. Thank you for noticing! 🫂🫂🫂

Thank you so much for sending an ask, I’m going to have fun with this one! I’m giving them a happy ending though, cause I can’t write angst and not give my boys a good ending. (Also completely unedited and not proof read lol)

Leonardo

The worry and anxiety he feels in the pit of his stomach like he swallowed a lead weight is one thing, but the chest-clenching heartbreak when you shriek at the sight of him and had no recollection of his existence is another.

He keeps a stoic face once you’ve calmed down and while explaining who he is to you, but really this poor guy is absolutely gutted. It takes so much of him to keep a straight face.

Still a bit of a helicopter, using any subtle opportunity to jog your memory of himself. He’ll make a cup of tea for you in the exact way he did on your first date, subtly comment on your outfit when he recognizes it’s something he bought you, anything he could think of to hopefully remind you.

This man does not sleep the entire time. You aren’t sleeping in his bed, how could he anyway? Once he is sure you are fully asleep, he comes to check on you. Listen to see if you talk in your sleep, mumbling about memories or just in case a nightmare decides to haunt you.

When he can’t check on you or do really anything else, he’s meditating in order to keep his emotions in line. He’s completely destroyed, so meditating for hours on end is the only way he can keep himself in check.

Although he’s snappy, irritable, and driving everyone but you away, what Leo really needs is one of his brothers to ignore the attitude and just stand there and let him get it out. By the time he’s done he’s already apologized a hundred times, he’s just lost and broken hearted.

Out of all his brothers, Raph is probably the one that cracks him and gets him to just spit it out. They all know what’s going on and how much Leo’s hurting from it all, but he still needs to let it out. Raph can handle the attitude with ease, brushing it aside and letting Leo get himself together

After what feels like an eternity, you gain your memory back at the most random of times while you happened to be watching him practice his kata. When you start babbling memories excitedly, he picks you up in a hug and cries into you.

It doesn’t matter if anyone’s watching, he’s crying and just so grateful that you remember who he is. Weeping tears of joy and the bottled anxiety finally burst as he holds you. Bear with this poor guy, it’s been a ride for both of you really.

Raphael

This poor guy is so surprised and in shock when you don’t remember him, he thinks you’re playing some sort of prank on him at first.

“Heh- babe, c’mon…don’t joke around like dat”

Once it hits him that this isn’t a prank or joke, you genuinely do not know who he is, Raph practically shuts down.

The love of his life doesn’t remember who he is, even looks at him like he’s the monster he felt he was before meeting you. It breaks his heart so much he locks himself away for a day or two, unfortunately leaving you more confused.

When you start wanting to be near him- no, needing to be near him, is when he starts coming around. He found you pacing back and forth in front of his bedroom door like a cat waiting to enter a closed off room one night.

You couldn’t explain it, but you have this invisible pull and primal need to be near him somehow. To be close, even touching him. Although you don’t remember why, you just know you need to,

Raph starts coming out of his room and trying to act normal, but when his brothers look him in the face an see how red and raw his eyes are, the dark circles, and the heartbreak in his eyes, they know it’s just an act but wisely choose not to comment.

He catches you staring at him while he’s working out, chuckling as you bashfully try to shy away. He doesn’t tease or joke though, instead encourages you to come watch

“I miss my favorite spotting partner,” Raph admits, hoping that will help jog your memory a little. It doesn’t outright, but you do find yourself already knowing how to spot him.

After a few days of you following Raph around like a lost puppy, your memory finally comes crashing back to you when Raph slipped the boxing gloves on you for practice.

Relief. So much relief it washes over Raph like a tidal wave that nearly knocks him off his feet. He holds you and kisses you, telling you repeatedly how grateful and happy he is you have your memory and you’re here. The tears will come at night while the two of you are in bed for the night, but he holds you and everything is okay.

Donatello

Initiate full on analytical mode. He is immediately going through a thousand different scenarios and cures in his head, he almost forgets that *you forgot* who he was all together, so his babbling did nothing to calm you down.

Even with all his knowledge and abilities, it still doesn’t negate the overwhelming emotions he feels when you don’t recognize him. It hurts, makes it hard for Donnie to even breathe, but he hides it behind his science and research.

Sitting in front of his computer for days on end in between checking up on your, it becomes almost like an obsession for Donnie to get your memory back. At the risk of his own health and wellbeing, he does not stop.

From using scents he knows you enjoy, like that cologne you bought for him as a gift or your favorite body wash, tasting your favorite coffee or the tiramisu Donnie bought for the two of you on a date once.

Let’s put on that movie we watched on that one Valentine’s weekend; you were obsessed with it for weeks!

Oh, what if Donnie took you to that rooftop the two of you saw a comet in the night sky once? It was absolutely beautiful, but wasn’t nearly as beautiful as you, he confided.

Countless hours of research keep Donnie from sleeping, honestly at one point contemplating how he could just straight main-line caffeine into his blood stream to stay awake.

Without warning one night, you come into his lab and demand he sleep. Not ask, not coax, you demand Donnie to get in bad with you and get some sleep. He questions if you’ve finally gotten your memory back, but sadly no. And he’s crushed. But you still demand he lay down in bed with you.

Crawling into bed with you with awkward limbs, Donnie is surprised that you lay down exactly as you always do with him. Even without memory, it was like your body still remembered how you fit together.

Quiet tears fall as Donnie holds onto you, sleep mercifully taking him into a deep slumber. Guilt crawled its way into your stomach while trying to sleep, wishing that your memory would just return so you could stop all of this.

Waking up in the morning, you blinked with shock as you look at Donnie- looked at him like you knew him again. And you did. You had woken up with your memory by some miracle.

Kissing and hugging you with love and relief, Donnie can’t keep his hands off of you or keep the tears from smudging his glasses. It was all so hard to believe while it was happening that now it was over, it felt like the end of a tornado.

The two of you decide to sleep in a little longer, only because Donnie could barely hold his eyes open. Frankly, sleep was probably what you needed too after all this.

Michelangelo

Confused. Downright, no jokes confused. How could you not remember him so suddenly? Time just doesn’t erase like that right?

Mikey asks Donnie a million and one questions, repeating or re-wording them or giving scenarios. It drives his brother mad, but he tries to be lenient because Donnie knows how terrified his younger brother is.

He caters to you in every way; offers to get you a drink, make you something to eat, get you a pillow, it becomes a little overwhelming, but you don’t know how to tell him to stop.

When Mikey tries to kiss you and pull away, it was like you could practically hear the way his heart shatters like glass. But he hides it with a smile and flirts, telling you he won you over once, he could do it again.

This is when he starts to flirt with you like he did before the two of you started dating, but with far more strategy and knowledge. Comments about how sweet you are while making your favorite chocolate pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream

Tells you how amazing you look in that shirt or those pants, mostly because he was the one to buy them.

He’ll give you your favorite kind of gifts; favorite flowers, candy, stuffed animals, anything he can think of giving you and jog your memory. Each time it doesn’t work, he’s crushed a little bit more, but he keeps trying.

Plays movies that you and Mikey watched together, shared music playlists the two of you built together over the period of your relationship, and whatever else he could possibly think of. But it still didn’t work.

When you aren’t anywhere near to see, Mikey with let himself cry for a moment out of frustration and sadness that you don’t remember him. It hurts, but by the time you are near he has a smile back on his face.

He thought you were sleeping one night when you found him crying down one of the sewer tunnels away from the lair. The sight broke your heart, which for some reason jogged your memory. Rushing to hug and kiss him, you damn near scared Mikey out of his shell.

“Angelcakes, you remember!?” Mikey shouts, picking you up and spinning you in a massive hug. Thank the pizza Gods, he had you back!

Taglist

@silverwatergalaxy @thelaundrybitch @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos

@yorshie @truffle-reblogs @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus @thepinkpanther83

@avery73 @luckycharms1701 @tmnt-tychou @suksiskovaikkakuuseen @milykins @justalotoffanfiction

[04thz]

Migraines - an Analogical oneshot

Logan's had issues with migraines for a long time, but never told the other sides about it. During a particularly bad one, Virgil comes to check on him.

Mild TW for mentioned vomit/throwing up - this is based on my own experience with migraines, and I basically always end up puking so Logan does now too lmao

Word count: 2444

Also! Just a quick FYI, I have an AO3 now! This one and the two NaruMitsu fics I made recently have been posted there. Will potentially move my older fics there as well, so in case anyone wants to read more of my writing without having to scroll through the wall of random that is my blog, I am 04thz on there as well. Anyways, enjoy the fluff lol

It was just one of those days. Hardly the first Logan had dealt with, but they never got any easier. He squeezed his eyes shut as another jolt of pain went through his skull and rolled over in bed to face the wall, where less of the light creeping in under the door could reach him. The movement caused a swell of nausea, and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths to suppress the urge to vomit, pulling the marine blue duvet up to further cover himself. 

God, he hated migraines. Tension headaches weren’t all that uncommon for the logical side, nor were caffeine headaches, but those were usually manageable with water and a couple painkillers, and if nothing else he could at least work through the more subdued pain. Whenever he felt a migraine coming on, that was it for the rest of the day, he would most likely not be getting anything else done until it was over. If he was lucky, the pain would be gone within a few hours and/or after a quick nap, but sometimes – like today – he’d wake up with a dull ache radiating out from one or both temples, which would steadily worsen over the course of the day, until it felt like one side of his head was being repeatedly wacked with a sledgehammer. And as if the throbbing pain weren’t bad enough, it was more often than not accompanied by crippling sensitivity to both light and sound, full-body chills, and such intense nausea it was nearly impossible to move without throwing up.  

Logan never told any of the other sides about his problem. Not only did he not want to appear weak, but also as long as he kept up with his work it was unlikely they’d think it odd that he'd stay couped up in his room for a day or two every once in a while; that was hardly unusual for him anyhow. Besides, it’s not like they could help with his predicament, actually there was all likelihood they’d make it worse. When he felt the aura of an oncoming migraine, he’d simply excuse himself from any social situation and bunker down in his room with a water bottle, painkillers, and a large bucket, in case he’d fail to quash the relentless waves of nausea. This time there hadn’t been any social situations to excuse himself from; he never even made it out of bed, much less out of the room. After trying and failing to go back to sleep to avoid the issue all together, he’d simply taken a pill and steeled himself for the dreadful day ahead.  

He’d managed to eat a couple bites of the breakfast he summoned for himself, and even done some reading before the gnawing ache became too intense to focus on anything else. But when it came time for lunch, he’d barely gotten the first mouthful down before it violently came back up, along with his breakfast. With throat burning and eyes running, Logan was forced to admit defeat, and he’d spent the next few hours subsisting on small sips of water, while trying to block out what little light seeped into the room and willing the day to just be over already.  

It was in this state that Virgil found him that afternoon. The alarm clock on Logan’s nightstand read 17:15 when he heard soft footsteps in the corridor outside. The three quick knocks on the door weren’t loud, but nonetheless agonizing, and Logan had to grit his teeth to suppress a pitiful whimper that threatened to escape his still sore throat.  

“L? You in there?” 

Logan sighed and tried his best to keep his voice steady. 

“Yes, Virge, I’m here. What is it?” 

The brief reply had sounded more abrasive than intended, and a minute passed in silence before a hesitant question came through. 

“Can I come in?” 

Logan took a deep breath and weighed for and against before turning back towards the door. 

“Yes, you may, just... please keep your voice down.” 

The door was slowly pushed open and Logan had to put his hands up to cover his eyes as the room was suddenly illuminated by the bright light spilling in from the hallway. Virgil stepped into the room, hands buried deeply in the pockets of his hoodie and shoulders pulled up; Logan’s blunt manner had clearly put him a bit on edge. Logan pressed his hands against his face. 

“Shut the door, please...” 

Virgil used his foot to push the door shut and Logan sighed with relief as the room was once again shrouded in blissful darkness. He lowered his hands and pulled the covers tighter around himself. Virgil leaned against the door, looking at him uncertainly as his eyes quickly adjusted to the dark. 

“Everything okay? Haven’t heard from you all day, and you don’t look so good.”, he said quietly. 

‘Not so good’ was rather an understatement. Logan had caught glances of himself in mirrors on better days and knew all too well he must look terrible; pale and shivering, hair a mess, eyes hazy, these kinds of days typically made him look like he was half-way to the grave. Not to mention his pajamas – consisting of indigo flannel bottoms and an old, faded Doctor Who t-shirt – were in desperate need of a wash. Reluctantly he reached for his glasses, sliding them on and looking at Virgil tiredly, though he could hardly make out more than a silhouette. 

“I have a migraine. Nothing to worry about, just... highly unpleasant.” 

The last two words came out as a sigh. Virgil tilted his head, taking a step towards the bed. 

“Oh, I see.” 

He slowly made his way over, pausing for a second and wrinkling his nose as he was hit by the rancid smell from the bucket on the floor. He looked at Logan, who wearily motioned for him to sit down on the bed. Virgil carefully sat down at the edge of the bed and started fidgeting with the drawstrings on his hoodie. They sat in silence for a while, until Virgil started finding it intolerable and softly spoke up. 

“Do you uh... need anything? Like an ice pack or something?” 

Logan went to decline the offer, mostly wanting to be left alone, but stopped himself. 

“That... would be great actually.” 

Virgil nodded, summoning an ice pack and a small towel, handing them to Logan. 

“Thank you, Virgil.” 

He gingerly placed his glasses back on the nightstand before laying the towel over his forehead and placing the ice pack on the side of his head that was throbbing the worst. He exhaled slowly, finally feeling some blessed relief as the chill of the ice somewhat dulled the burning pain. Virgil watched him, a small smile creeping onto his face. 

“Did that help?” 

Logan nodded ever so slightly, gently shutting his eyes underneath the towel. 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

Virgil looked around, having no problem seeing in the very faint light from the door, though he’d know the room like the back of his hand even if he couldn’t see it. Out of all the other sides’ rooms, Logan’s was probably the one the anxious side had spent the most time in. If he’d had a nightmare or just couldn’t sleep, it wasn’t unusual for him to make his way over, and Logan was typically happy enough to let him in. For all he harped on about circadian rhythms and healthy sleep schedules, it was not uncommon to find the logical side sitting by his desk or reading late into the night. Sometimes, if he was feeling especially anxious, like after a bad nightmare, Virgil would ask Logan to read aloud to him from whatever book he was currently working his way through. Many nights he’d fallen asleep listening to various detective stories and scientific theories, curled up under the large, galaxy print blanket on Logan’s bed. Logan was a constant, a steady presence in Virgil’s life, even more so than the other sides, and seeing the normally - at least outwardly- unshakeable man in his current state was honestly a bit unnerving.  

“... Do you get migraines like this often?” Virgil asked softly, turning to look at Logan’s half-covered face. 

“Once or twice a month at most. They aren’t always this bad.” Logan replied tiredly. 

The anxious side chuckled quietly, mostly to himself. 

“Just bad luck today huh?” 

He could just about make out the slight movement of Logan furrowing his brows under the towel. 

“Wouldn’t call it ‘bad luck’ exactly. I have admittedly exceeded my own limitations by quite a large margin over the past couple weeks, it’s hardly surprising it would end like this.”   

Logan wasn’t sure if it was the pain, the drowsiness or just the fact that it happened to be Virgil sitting on the bed with him that made him inclined to share “unfavorable” information like that so freely, but he had to confess it was rather nice to not keep it all to himself for once. He was aware he was working on an unsustainable schedule, despite his best efforts to keep Thomas and his fellow sides from doing the same, and it felt – yes, felt – good to say so out loud. Like giving the thought some sort of external presence was a step in the right direction towards amending the issue. Virgil returned to fidgeting with his hoodie strings, watching Logan’s chest slowly rise and fall for what seemed like an eternally long minute before breaking the silence: 

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself?” he said, concern apparent in his voice.  

Logan sighed and moved the ice pack slightly to the left, before he let his hand fall to his side 

“I suppose not, no. There’s been so much work to do lately, everything else sort of got left by the wayside, so to speak.” 

“L, you can’t do that. You have needs too, you can’t just work and work and ignore them. That’s not healthy.” 

Virgil moved a bit closer to Logan, turning his body so his knee just barely touched Logan’s outer calf. The latter shifted slightly, somewhat unused to physical contact of any sort.  

“I know that, Virge. I am trying to find a better balance, but it’s easier said than done.” 

Virgil placed a hand on Logan’s knee, resting it lightly so that the other man may move away from his touch if he so pleased. Logan didn’t move his leg away, instead he slowly lifted a corner of the towel off his face, looking at Virgil questioningly, though the anxious side knew he probably couldn’t actually see him in the dark and without his glasses. Virgil bit his lip softly and ran the fingers of his free hand through his bangs.  

“I care about you, Logan. I know you hate the feelingsy stuff and all, but I really care about you, and I don’t want you pushing yourself like that. I’m worried about you, dude.” 

Logan drew in a breath, slightly taken aback. Virgil usually wasn’t much more forward about this sort of thing than himself. And that word; Worried. Virgil was worried about him. He noticed that Logan didn’t leave his room that day, he cared enough to come check on him and at least attempt to help with his splitting headache. None of the others typically even noticed he wasn’t present unless it happened to be for an extended period of time. As much as he hated to admit it, that hurt, and the fact that Virgil had sought him out and expressed concern for his wellbeing meant more to him than he knew how to properly verbalize.  

“Thank you, Virgil. I... appreciate that.” was all he could muster up through suddenly knotted vocal cords. 

Virgil gently rubbed Logan’s knee. There was, as always, an implicit understanding between them. Even if Logan didn’t know how to say it, Virgil understood that his concern was important to him. 

“I mean it. Just... I’m here for you, okay? You can always talk to me if something’s going on.” 

He was half expecting the conversation to be over at that point, and was just about to leave Logan alone to sleep off his headache, when the logical side spoke up again: 

“Virge? Could you maybe... read to me?” 

Virgil stopped in the middle of getting up, sinking back down on the mattress. Logan shifted the towel back over his eyes and continued: 

“I was reading Murder on the Orient Express earlier, but I didn’t get past the first few chapters before my migraine got the better of me.” 

Virgil smirked playfully. 

“Again? Don’t you have it memorized by now?” 

Logan scoffed, rolling his eyes despite the agony it caused. 

“I am too tired for musical references right now.” 

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.” 

Virgil snickered and reached for the book on the nightstand.  

“Can I lie down?” 

Logan nodded ever so slightly, and Virgil carefully nestled himself in between him and the wall, leafing through the book until he came across the ornate bookmark Roman had gotten for Logan’s appreciation day a few years previous. He smiled; half convinced Logan would have gotten rid of it by now. He cleared his throat and began reading. Though he wasn’t as big a fan as Logan, Virgil did enjoy Agatha Christie’s writing, having heard both Murder on the Orient Express and a couple of her other books read out multiple times, and he did find some pleasure in being able to return the favor after being read to restful sleep so many times. A few chapters in, he glanced over at Logan and noticed that he’d drifted off. He put the bookmark in place and carefully returned the book to its spot on the nightstand before removing the thawing ice pack and wrapping it up in the towel. Propping himself up on his elbow, Virgil watched his companion’s relaxed face with an adoring smile, and soon found himself dozing off to the slow, almost hypnotic rhythm of his breathing.  

When Logan woke up in the morning, finally free of the excruciating migraine, and found Virgil sleeping with his hand resting on Logan’s chest, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Careful not to wake the other man, he got out of bed and put on his glasses. Before leaving for a much-needed shower, he made sure to tuck Virgil in properly and – much to his own surprise – gently stroked his cheek with the back of his hand. Virgil smiled contently in his sleep, and Logan quietly left the room with a warm, pleasant feeling in his chest.  

[agentnash]

i made a secret / low activity d.aniel m.olloy sideblog, so if you wanna write with him... lmk.

[the-kipsabian]

@giftober 2024 | Day 11: "orange"

[can-of-slorgs]

Final surprise boop attack for @yowassupitsred!!

Faeran would 100% be really obnoxious about Calamari, and would intentionally make others appreciate her boopings haha.

(Secret second boop attack to @starbiology in revenge to the april fools war because even though i didn't know if you had any characters, I think of her as your character by this point and I found this scenario hilarious in my mind)

[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

[pardonmydelays]

the funniest thing that always happens to me is that every time we have a customer who doesn't speak polish and they ask me if i speak english i'm like "no, i don't think i do" only to realize a few minutes later that i do, in fact, speak english

[insurged]

all for one, the dramatic and petty beefcake demon lord

[sapphire-weapon]

"It's not the game. That's not what we're arguing about. It is all about an inherent thing we do of social sorting. The reason we socially sort is because we want to put ourselves into a group that gives us a sense of belonging, a sense of friendship, love, whatever you want to call it, and creating a sense of identity through which you can express yourself. These are very important things to people. [...] That is what people are really fighting over. It's masked under all these arguments over these merits about the game, but that's not actually what people are fighting about. They are fighting to defend their sense of identity and belonging from those who they believe are attacking that with their opinions about the game. [...] "What you can do is at least be aware of what's really going on inside of you when you get these strong feelings -- when you see these opposing views to what you believe. [...] Realize what's happening -- realize what's really happening. Take a step back from that. You have this cognizant higher thinking part of your brain right here behind your freaking forehead that you can use to go, 'Hold on a second, emotional part back there. This actually isn't all that serious.' [...] "Because it's going to happen. You're going to have a feeling that comes up. You're going to see somebody who says something and you're just going to feel annoyed. You're going to feel angry. You're going to feel all those feelings. You don't have a choice in that, by the way. That's just going to happen to you. That's the part we're saying you can't control about your human nature. But you can control -- being aware of where that's really coming from -- how you go about responding to that. [...] "We have to wrestle with this. We have to wrestle with how we respond to this. Because [...] we have tools at our disposal that put us into contact with people who, it feels like, are threatening us all the time when they're not. They're not. They're not threatening you. It feels like they are -- it really feels like it. Trust me, I know exactly what you're feeling. [...] I could not control myself. I literally couldn't for a while. If I saw somebody say something like that, I felt the need to validate my position, clarify, tell this guy or girl or whoever was saying it why they're wrong. It's in me, too. [...] "And, I feel like, just in the past couple weeks, I had a little bit of a breakthrough, where I was looking through some comments and I saw something, and I just kind of laughed at it instead of getting angry. I laughed at it because it was wrong; I didn't get angry because it was wrong. Like, my brain -- the prefrontal cortex finally broke through and convinced the amygdala that: 'You can laugh at that; it's okay. You're not threatened. Just laugh it off and walk away. You don't have to fight this person. You don't have to engage. You don't have to prove that they didn't understand what you really meant. You don't have to do that. It's just a video game.'"

-- Mike from Resonant Arc, talking about video game discourse and shipping wars

[pandorasgrief]

Me reading houseki no kuni: oh wow cairngorm x aechmea is sooo juicy.... toxic. Manipulation. Grooming. Fuck yeah this is a treat

The fandom: if you like Aechmea you are a MONSTER and a RAPE APOLOGIST! Omggg he is the worst character he shouldnt have existed! Omggg poor Cairngorm, he got manipulated so much! He loved phos, he was just a tsundere :< Aechmea cut out his personality :<

Me: oh wow nobody understands wtf happened in the manga

[ohmaggies]

been back in the rpc for over a month *visibly holding back tears*

[calamitydaze]

long tag ramble below u have been warned

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Not much has been shared yet for the Nicky day of the week which has me thinking that *I* wanna draw a Nicky to share but... That would require... Drawing and... Liking what I draw...

[recareels]

I KNOW that if you ever go around playing genshin again and go to Fontaine you will like Wriothesley

i am playing genshin again!!! i’ve talked a bit about wriothesley on my main blog (@inkykeiji) and how he’s soooooo so so sexy (and if i’m being entirely honest when he was first shown in the story i almost did come back for him!!! bcoz ur right! visually he is 100% my type!) bUT he’s also such a wet sandwich of a man!!!! 。ﾟ(ﾟﾉД｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ he’s so boring!!! maybe once i meet him in game i’ll change my mind and look like a total fool in the process but from his voice lines alone i just find him so bland as a character ._.

[lesbiandarvey]

Sadie Sink as Her in All Too Well: The Short Film, dir. Taylor Swift (2021)

Josh Charles as Dan Rydell in Sports Night, dir. Thomas Schlamme (1998-2000)

[dandyshucks-moving]

there's this one photo I've seen floating around a few times with the words "I wish we could've met as kids, you would've loved the softer me" and I think about it every now and then

so ... art ʅ(๑ ᷄ω ᷅ )ʃ