#im kind of reeling

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

"What flowers do you like?"

Wriothesley asks one day, trying to seem nonchalant. Trying to make it look not as obvious that he's already mentally running through a list of Fontanian florists.

But you hm to yourself, frowning. "I... don't know. I've never really received flowers before," you say with a shrug, acting like it's no big deal. Wriothesley, though, has to catch himself before he drops the pen in his hand.

"Never?" He asks with wide eyes, head snapping in your direction, jaw dropping the slightest bit. "None of your past relationships ever got you flowers?"

You shake your head, not really bothered by the fact, and although you're nonchalant about it, Wriothesley immediately feels the gears in his head turn. That mental list of florists runs through his mind at double the speed. His finger absently taps on the wood of his desk, mind racing as he does some rough estimations. Unaware and unsuspecting, you merely go back to perusing the books in his office, running your hands over their worn spines, oblivious to the clench in Wriothesley's jaw and the determined glint in his eye.

A week later, and Wriothesley returns from the surface with a bouquet in his hands. It's nothing too big or ostentatious— that's not really his style. Instead, it's simple in its beauty and easy on the eyes. All sorts of flowers have been included, even ones not native to Fontaine. Cecilias from Mondstadt, Glaze Lillies and Qingxin from Liyue, Padisarahs from Sumeru, and even Fluorescent Flowers from Inazuma's Chinju forest, among others. All arranged by hands more skilled and talent more honed than he could ever hope to achieve.

Wriothesley knocks on your door, heart stuck in his throat, and can't help but laugh a little at how cliche it all looks. Him, standing in front of your door with a bunch of flowers in hand, desperately trying to fight down his blush when he hears a 'coming!' faintly behind your door.

When you swing it open, your greeting is caught in your throat, eyes wide as they behold the blue and white blossoms Wriothesley brought for you.

"What... what's this? What's the occasion?"

But he shakes his head, and at his behest you take the bouquet into your arms, holding it carefully. When you bury your nose among the petals, they smell sweet but not saccharinely overpowering. It's enough to make you want to cry.

"No occasion," Wriothesley says, one hand going to scratch at the back of his neck, his smile shy and bashful. "I just wanted to get them for you. Wanted to be the first person to ever get you a bouquet of flowers, you know? But importing them took longer than i expected and, well, I told the florist that I was giving it to someone very special so they spent some extra time on the arrangement..." He trails off, clearing his throat nervously. "...Do you like it?"

And that sets loose the tears behind your eyes.

Wriothesley panics a little when he sees how you blubber, sobs making your shoulders shake as you hide your face in the flowers. His eyes widen, a frantic apology on the tip of his tongue while he fears that he messed up somehow. But then you tackle him into a hug, arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him close until you can bury your head in his chest and cry. His arms wrap around you almost hesitantly, but when you nuzzle closer into his embrace and they tighten around you.

You're barely able to speak through your tears, words muffled around his undoubtedly ruined shirt.

"I love it." I love you, you really mean.

And how can you not? This sweetheart of a man bought you flowers just because he wanted to. Because no one else had before, and he wanted to be the first person to do so. All his sporadic trips to the surface for the past week make sense— you doubt procuring so many imported flowers so quickly was an easy task on top of troubleshooting the various hiccups of the fortress and sorting through some documents that found themselves on his desk. But he did it anyway, just because he thought it'd make you happy.

"I'm glad," Wriothesley murmurs. He rocks you back and forth in his embrace until your happy tears begin to subside. Then he clears his throat. "So, can I buy you another one next week, too?"

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

[cozylittleartblog]

checking up on you

[halfdeadwallfly]

[gayspock]

i did not even get to the marcello part. fucking HELL he is such a little scumbag. 🤗

i need all the blokes in the bb house to be rounded out in the town square and tomatoed until their skin starts to prune so much it sloughs off

[mybraindumpsterfire]

Phil Lester is not ever beating the princess babygirl allegations reality we are all privy to now

[xamaxenta]

Sabo shipped off to work on an oil rig, the ? Managing director? quartermaster?

Idk what jobs there are on oil rigs but whoever is in charge, a rough sea dog kindly in that isolated sort of way kind of man named Marco takes him in and tells him the rig shapes you, best, leave what it lures you alone

Which is fine, sabos no stranger to seeing beyond what one is supposed to but on the rig he hears voices and thats fine too because its not uncommon out at sea

Its also not uncommon to see nothing at all durinf the dark pitch black nights

What is uncommon is to see his husband sitting on the railings of the rusty salt eroded rig, radiant and with a smile that lances through his ribs because he misses him so much

Further uncommon is Ace died one summer that feels so fresh it couldve been yesterday, an aching wound from five years past

Sabo ran to the sea to escape him, Ace, fraught with the concept that sabo may forget him, chases after him

Cosmic psychological horror haunting by your deceased lover and seeking the comfort in the arms of the only other soul on deck— marco

Perhaps hes fucking crazy, Marco doesnt feel real either

[edsbacktattoo]

we really need to stop making people feel guilty for fucking everything. “stop sketching with a pencil and don’t use an eraser,” “stop brushing your teeth with a regular toothbrush,” “stop using so much detergent in your washing,” etc etc. we’re all just trying to make it until tomorrow. be lenient with yourself and others this shit is hard and all these rules are fucking arbitrary.

[omegalomania]

no ok like. like i have to break this down i am actually losing my mind. whenever i visited my grandparents on my dads side as a kid theyd put on field of dreams like, constantly. it would just be running in the background, sometimes multiple times per day. the background radiation of that movie is just kinda in my dna and it awoke something in me today.

field of dreams is about faith. it's a guy who had a strained relationship with his late father because they were both BIG baseball buffs, but the main character's personal hero was shoeless joe jackson, a chicago white sox player who was mostly known for his participation in the black sox scandal despite being an incredibly gifted batter. mc and his father disagreed heavily about jackson, with his father calling him a criminal but the main character idolizing him as a hero.

a little while after his father passes away, main character gets these voices telling him if you build it, he will come. he decides to mow down a huge chunk of his cornfield and build a baseball field in its place, which basically everyone in his life considers a really fucking terrible move since that means he's massively dropped the sale value of his property and also is gonna lose all the money he shouldve gotten from corn. but he did this all on faith - building it, so he will come.

the field gets inhabited by numerous ghostly players from the past, all of them legends, and among them is shoeless joe jackson. there's almost this expectation that he is who was supposed to come - the main characters personal hero. but by the end of the film, he learns that one of the players on the field is actually his late father. he will come. the one defining relationship in his life that the main character was never able to reconcile.

in the final scene, he asks his father if he wants to play a game of catch. and as they pass the ball back and forth, we pull back and see that a line of cars has started to form. people are coming to see the game between father and son. people are gathering around to watch them play.

its a movie about faith. tear down your whole life and build a baseball field. build it, and he will come. build it, and they will come. in the emptiness of some random cornfield, there is magic, and there is a way to reach back into the past.

and people will watch you do it. people will gather around from all over the world to see this small, intimate window between two people they don't actually know.

its a movie about faith. i will defend the faith, going down swinging. and fob had to have such faith in us for this to work, didnt they? they planted a single, cryptic ad in a newspaper in chicago. no media hype, no socials, nothing. just one ad, in one newspaper, in chicago.

but thats the thing. it worked. we spread it like wildfire regardless. we all latched onto it. they did this small thing on the faith that we would know what to do with it and it fucking worked.

because crowds are won and lost and won again. but our hearts beat for the diehards.

[qoldenskies]

wow caged lungs did. a lot better than i expected it to in its first day. like 13 comments when im not really a large person in the fandom at all is so shocking to me. like ngl i thought only like five people were gonna read it in total BAHGHJDGHHH

its definitely motivating me to get working on the second part though!!! even when i finish it i might wait a while to let the first one sit a bit but still.... agh thank you all so much for the appreciation

[gaminegay]

i fucking hate Instagram with such passion

[grimowled]

;ooc

[nymika-arts]

the real reason why tumblr is my favourite social media is people actually interact with the things I create here lmao. I post on any other app and most of the time even people I know don't stop long enough to drop a like on it

[effervescent-fool]

i think one of my biggest (and only) gripes with procreate is that they dont have like. a masterlist of features their app has to offer. a full thorough ui navigation. because ive been using procreate for a couple years now and im still discovering preexisting features because they just. dont mention it anywhere

[countess-of-edessa]

the thing about taking advice from anyone on tiktok or instagram including catholic and christian type influencers, parenting advice, relationship advice, etc, or internalizing any stories of horrible relationships and betrayal people tell on those platforms, or reading about all the ways interpersonal relationships can end horribly and be cycled through extremely quickly on those platforms is that you are necessarily then consuming the thoughts and experiences of someone who is willing to put their face and name on a public social media platform to talk at you. and like 1% of those people have a good reason for doing so and the other 99% are completely unhinged. so everything you’re consuming has first gone through the filter of "is this person weird and insane enough to make Instagram reels of themselves crying?" and if the answer is yes maybe their advice doesn’t apply to your life because you’re a normal person who would not do that.

[madokasoratsugu]

a gambling manga can be so homoerotic and weave the fate of two men together so intricately their meeting and deaths at each other's hands can only be called destiny

[princehoneytea]

i had no idea about the pokemon sv E4 music bug until yesterday. i just thought they had a TERRIBLE 10-second-loop battle theme