#i walk into walls

[chloesimaginationthings]

I can’t wait to see mangle in the FNAF 2 movie,,

[methoughtsphantom]

silly headcannon #2 that Bruce never got the reference that Jason always made of himself being short round (he always thought it was Jason saying he was short) until after he died and Tim, avid Indiana Jones fan made Bruce watch the movies with him, only the man breaks out crying., sobbing, full on breaking down over the two second scene that is Indy ruffling Short Round’s hair as he explains they first met when he caught the kid stealing from him, and then took him under his wing.

[hellenhighwater]

There's a lot of design philosophy out there that is super cool and interesting but I think one of the core beliefs that is apparent in my home is just...I think it's fun when a house surprises you. When you don't know what the next door is going to lead to, when the layout is not quite what you expect, when it's silly and fun and comfortably fancy. So yes, I've been doing fun colors and patterns on the insides of every closet, because why not? They're small spaces. They can be ridiculous and functional at the same time and they make me smile when I open up the closet doors, and nobody expects it.

[piquuroblox]

their bickering in the elevator is always the highlight of my runs

[valtsv]

saw bird spikes on a roof today and got mad about it

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Danny is just a kid ya know? Like he is just a little guy. A baby really. 14? Tiny child! Look at him, he needs to be protected. Someone has to help this poor little dude. I mean he forgets to use his own powers to avoid attacks all the time.

Anyway cut to Batfam not knowing all of Dannys power set cause the lil dingus keeps forgetting he can do that stuff in the heat of battle.

Danny uses his invisibility all the time… to avoid being followed. But in a fight? Oopsies hes too busy thinking of funny one liners to realise he could do that.

Intangibility? Give the guy a break. I mean who calls themselves condiment king. Even he was stunned.

He so rarely actually uses his biggest advantage powers that the League doubt he actually has them. He, like any naive child, trusts them and reported fully on his power set. Instead of just asking him to demonstrate his powers they instead start watching him and try to find evidence of his powers.

At least they know duplication was true since they watched him make a copy of himself to go to the bathroom and not miss any of his fav tv show.

[riickgrimes]

"The key thing was of course, the fact that Rick has PTSD and that's very much what's driving a lot of his behavior and being in a place of that level of vulnerability, back with the love of his life in that way.

It's also the thing he fears, the loss of her. It manifests itself in a way that is visceral and leads to the lovemaking not just being about love, but the revealing of pain and trauma and fear. That informs Michonne, that she can't just blast him into making sense. There's something deeper going on here that he can't verbalize. She has to help him get through in a different way. So she gets to see him, as well, as he reveals what's really in there, the wound. That's going to happen most likely in that most vulnerable space." — Danai Gurira

"Yeah, I think it is about pain. As Danai just said, it's about him wanting her and then fearing what he's about to unlock again. He gets to sort of articulate it in the scene further in the episode, when he gets to say that, 'I can't do this again. I haven't got the capacity to do this again. I've worked out how to die and live again.' So it is an absolutely necessary scene that allows Michonne to realize that there's something really broken here, more broken than she's ever anticipated. [...]

So the scene was about a real intimacy, a sort of frightening intimacy. This is a part of his personality he has shut down. It's almost like he's trying to stop himself from feeling this love again. She sees that and she just says, 'Just trust. We're back. We're the same...' I find it very moving. I think it's a very, very moving scene, because it's about them connecting in a way that he's had to deny for seven years. He's denied that connection for the sake of living on in this half life for the CRM" — Andrew Lincoln

Andrew Lincoln and Danai Gurira Discuss Episode 4 of The Walking Dead: The Ones Who Live

[medicalunprofessional]

wunderbar !

[ryan-sometimes]

Recently I’ve been getting anons and comments doubting the validity of some of the stories I tell on here. There’s nothing I can do to convince you that the stories I tell on here are completely genuine. All I can say is that they really are. I only post the wackiest, most interesting or funny stories of my life on here. You don’t get much of the boring day to day stuff.

Truth is, I come from a very long line of crazy people. When my dad was in med school he and some friends planted a small homemade bomb in an abandoned bathroom at their university. His roommate stole a pancreas from the corpse lab and put it in a girl’s backpack. The entire med school was suspended because no one owned up to it. My uncle would sneak out at night with my grandma’s car and she’d find out because she’d check the mileage and see it’d gone up, so my uncle started driving her car backwards since that didn’t increase the mileage. He got arrested driving her car backwards on the highway to another town. My uncle would steal my grandpa’s shotgun, tell his friends to jump in the pool, and start firing it randomly at the backyard. My cousin genuinely had two weed smoking girlfriends who were also girlfriends with each other. My great uncle had an affair exposed by having his intimate photos and videos with his mistress sent to the family groupchat by people who stole his phone, all because they were salty that my aunt told them to go fuck themselves when they messaged her asking for money. My aunt took out all her life savings and moved to another state to build a bunker because she believes the apocalypse is coming, and she didn’t even take any of her children. I don’t know how to tell you this, but life is just stranger than fiction sometimes. The sample size of life stories you get on my blog are just the instances in which that’s true.

[spacedlexi]

"sounds nice... having a partner"

[mischievousdog]

A lynx-coated fox/wolf critter I have dreams of every now and again

[maybe-a-dinosaur]

seijoh 4 as summer camp employees

hanamaki takahiro is BUILT for this he has fun hair he’s weird he’s engaging his he’s colorful his water bottle is covered in stickers he has sandals on toes Out he is shameless he’s kinda unhinged it so works. he’s a counselor but almost never has a cabin to himself he’s more like a sub if someone else has gets sick or whatever but when he shows up it’s like a celebrity sighting a monumentous occasion. if he’s not needed anywhere else he’s helping out with arts and crafts his favorite artworks are the ones where you can’t tell what the fuck it’s supposed to be. he has lots of string friendship bracelets he knows how to make them but lies whenever someone asks he just gives them one he gatekeeps cuz he thinks it’s funny and teaching is too much work. he tells the most Outrageous ghost stories and is the reason only half of the kids will go in the lake he talks about bigfoot and campers who went missing and the town’s curse he is carrying on legacies he is SO fun.

iwaizumi hajime is the Coolest fucking counselor ever. bandana around his head sleeves cut off of the uniform tshirt (muscle tee now) he has friendship bracelets a beat up watch one anklet his water bottle is on its last leg he has a dinosaur keychain on his backpack he like epitomizes cool guy the kids idolize him. his cabin wins every single camp-wide competition every time like he’s peak athleticism and he’s just like so awesome or whatever it’s contagious. he picks kids up and throws them in the lake and pool if a frisbee gets stuck in a tree he gets it every time he caught a snake once and took it back to the woods everyone wants to sit next to him in the mess hall he can’t build a fire and is mad about it he sleeps like a fucking Rock and snores like a lawnmower and eats enough for 3 people at every meal.

oikawa tooru is a lifeguard. at the pool at the lake he’s always around the water somehow and Everyone has a crush on him. up on his lifeguard chair sunglasses on his skin is all golden whistle around his neck or spinning on his finger his hair somehow always looks good he wears a headband one day and someone literally faints. he teaches swimming and canoeing lessons and is really good at it he almost Never has to save anyone for someone who works by the water you’d think they’d swim a little more. he’s pretty quiet when he’s on duty he takes the job seriously but he’s a fucking motormouth when he’s off that chair he will Not shut up. he sits w the boys at meals running that fucking mouth pisses them off So Bad he blatantly flirts/fights with iwaizumi when the kids aren’t around and Refuses to get into a canoe with him bc it always ends up getting flipped. he’s really good with the younger kids they’re his favorite to work with but he is generally well liked throughout the camp he’s like everyone’s counselor crush and he always eats raisin bran for breakfast.

matsukawa issei is the camp cryptid he works with the older kids who like go backpacking and spend all their time in the woods he emerges looking like he’s been there all his life. he kinda just appears sometimes doing odd jobs taking things to the lost and found feeding the chickens fishing things out of the lake general camp maintenance he materializes out of the trees with a fire extinguisher a neon yellow backpack and a missing camper. he’s often accompanied by the camp dog so there are theories (encouraged by takahiro) that he’s actually a werewolf and that’s why he’s everywhere some people think he is the camp dog issei thinks this is very funny. the only place he’s consistently found is the mess hall at meals otherwise when not wandering or in the forest he can be found hanging out with hiro coming up with new ghost stories playing some sort of sport with hajime or pouring water on tooru’s head wherever he happens to be. issei is the best campfire builder on the property and some of the kids are scared of him he never has his phone can only be contacted by walkie-talkie he is the jack of all trades.

[inoreuct]

would you agree that we all need more Sanji getting nosebleeds over Zoro in this fandom?

YES *pelting down a hill waving the proposal for this in my hand like a madman* YESSSSSS

the first time sanji gets a nosebleed over zoro is his clue-in that oh. i’m not straight, am i. the swordsman’s doing a bench press (shirtless, as always) as sanji walks by (and sanji sneaks a look, as always, because who wouldn’t?) and when he glances over the plates he has to do a double take because what the fuck. zoro’s pressing more than twice his body weight. zoro’s repping more than twice his body weight. he’s just registered that maybe he’s stared for a bit too long when he feels something warm and wet on his upper lip, iron dripping over his mouth, and he books it for the galley.

he slams the door shut and presses his back against it before he slides to the ground and screams into his knees because what. the fuck. it’s not even that he’s getting hot and bothered over a guy; it’s just that the guy’s zoro. he’s not supposed to get nosebleeds over zoro.

but he does.

and it gets worse.

zoro walking around shirtless on deck? nosebleed. zoro re-tying the sails and just hanging on with his legs around the mast? nosebleed. zoro strutting out of the shower door, damp with steam and hair dripping wet and a towel around his waist? nosebleed. zoro tsking irritably and grabbing all of sanji’s food and packages from him to haul the whole lot over his shoulder? NOSEBLEED.

and not even that. he starts getting breathless around zoro and his chest hurts. he kicks zoro back while they’re sparring one day and the swordsman grins, feral and unrestrained and all challenge and teeth, and sanji’s heart spasms so hard that he actually wonders if he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. he’s barely twenty, he isn’t ready to die— much less because of some stupid marimo. chiselled abs and a nice set of biceps are only worth so much of sanji’s dignity. he twists and smashes the sole of his shoe right into zoro’s pretty face.

still, it gets so, so bad that he’s elected to just. avoid zoro completely. he’s sneaking around corners and running across open expanses ducked low like some kind of goofy thief and he knows it’s so fucking stupid but he doesn’t. he doesn’t know if zoro likes— no. he doesn’t even think about it. there’s no way, and if he gives himself false hope he’ll just break his own heart. he doesn’t know if zoro likes men, or anyone, much less him; nobody in their right mind would, not really. he's nice to have but not to keep and he's come to terms with it.

…until zoro corners him in the galley and demands to know what the fuck’s going on.

sanji stays facing away, slowly washing the dishes even as his heart pounds so hard it hurts. he is painfully aware of the way zoro’s seething like an over-boiled kettle in one of the chairs behind him, arms crossed over his stupidly broad chest and stock-still because he never, ever shakes his leg even though sanji knows he wants to.

his sponge squeaks across ceramic. the water’s warm against his fingertips, and his eyes flick up to meet his own reflection in the porthole window; he looks… well, he doesn’t know. scared, maybe. nervous. his mouth is thin, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, a shudder running its fingers down his spine even as his heartbeat thumps between his ribs and god, fuck, it aches. and he knows. he looks himself in the eyes and he knows that somewhere along the line nosebleeds had turned into falling in love and he was the stupid idiot who had just let it happen because he was too weak to pry zoro out of his thoughts.

his gaze flicks down sharply when he hears the sudden scrape of the chair, and zoro spits, “look, i can’t fix whatever i did wrong if you don’t tell me what it is.”

sanji’s heart throbs. “what?”

he can hear zoro’s scowl. “what, what? i obviously did something. you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

the cook almost laughs. he bites it down and swallows his words, salty-sweet at the back of his throat. guilt nips at him; zoro’s his rival and and his personal annoyance and a blockhead but he might also, maybe, just maybe, be sanji’s best friend. and sanji hasn’t been very fair to him lately.

he swallows again, clears his throat silently. “you didn’t do anything, marimo,” he murmurs to the plate in his hands, trying for airy and getting more somewhat vaguely strangled. he coughs. “just forget about it. sorry i’ve been weird.”

sanji will deal. he will, somehow; he’d been careless and careless is dangerous and for perhaps the first time in his life, he has too much to lose. he’ll squash his heart into a box and lock it down tight like he always has and it’ll hurt, but when does it ever not? he mentally declares the matter done and dusted as he shakes off the plate and gently sets it on the drying rack.

his lungs hitch as a callused hand cups his elbow.

zoro pulls him around. he’s too weak to resist. the edge of the sink digs into his hip as stormy grey eyes scan his face and zoro looks tense, his jaw set in the way it only is when he faces off with a particularly vexing foe.

“did i not look happy enough at dinner?" he asks, and it could be mockery but it isn't, not with that edge to his voice; not desperation, but damn near. like filter paper burning its way to ash. "was it my clothes on the floor? my boots on the bed? what?”

sanji can't stand it anymore. he looks away, tries to twist out of the invisible bonds zoro has him trapped in, but fingers looped around his wrist are all it takes to make him stay and fuck, fuck, he's so fucked.

"sanji, what did i do?” zoro breathes, brow furrowed, voice too near and too damn earnest, and sanji's throat bobs as he digs the heel of his palm into his eye.

this isn't how it's supposed to go. zoro isn't supposed to care. zoro isn't supposed to be standing here in the galley saying his name in that tone of voice. a hand carefully pulls his own away from his face, and zoro doesn't fucking let go, and sanji feels too much like he's been stripped down to the bone.

"i know," zoro continues, gruff like he doesn't know how to be anything else, "that i upset you. so would you please tell me what i did so i can fix it?" he bends lower still, ducking to try and catch sanji’s line of sight but sanji just can't look at him. "i'll fix it, i—"

"you can't fix this." the words are out and in the air before he can stop them, and a bittersweet smile curves his mouth. "there's nothing to fix, so you can't fix it. just let it go, alright?"

zoro wants to argue. sanji can tell. but the swordsman lets out a measured exhale after a long moment and pulls back, face carefully neutral. "at least tell me what's going on, cook."

sanji looks down at his feet. "...i can't."

"like hell you can't," zoro replies immediately, and it's such an abrupt reminder of their normal banter that it wrenches a rough noise from sanji's chest. "i was the one who held your hair back after you had, like, seven margaritas too many. don't think you could tell me anything worse than the experience of trying to stop you from falling into your own puke."

"oh, jesus fuck," sanji swears on instinct, then laughs. it's unfortunately hollow. "that was one time, asshole."

"one time too many," zoro hums, raising an eyebrow. "so you gonna tell me what's going on, or do i have to make it a captain's order?"

sanji grits his teeth.

"i will drag luffy in here, i don't care—"

"fucking—" he holds his breath, flipping around to white-knuckle the edge of the sink and letting it out slow. "fine. you ever loved someone, marimo?"

"sure." zoro shrugs easily, crossing his arms as he looks out the window. "kuina, but i think i learned to love her memory more than anything else. luffy, nami—" a near-unnoticeable flutter of thick lashes. "you."

sanji exhales through his nose as he rocks back on his heels. squeezes out air till it hurts. "you know that's not what i meant."

"what did you mean, then?"

he turns to look at where zoro has settled lazily against the counter, the moon turning his eyes to silver. "I mean the kind of love that makes your blood race. that makes you want more even when you know you'll never take more than you're allowed. the kind that makes your heart hurt so badly you feel empty without it."

the swordsman's face is unreadable as he tilts his head slowly. "i did say i love you."

it hits sanji like a bullet. he sucks in a sharp breath, and his throat burns as he turns away and tries to stop his shoulders from heaving up. "don't fuck with me, zoro. not about this."

it feels rather like a cruel cosmic joke. he's so near yet so far, just one step away with a gauzy curtain between but he can't touch it. he won't. he's got too many things on the line and yet he can't even name one of them.

"hey."

he squeezes his eyes shut against the burn of salt that shouldn't even be there, and look at that. little sanji's gone and broken his own heart again.

"hey," zoro tries again, more insistent, one hand hovering in the space between them and sanji feels the pull of it like a magnet.

he doesn't turn away as it cups his cheek. doesn't run as fingers slide through the short hairs at his nape, a thumb behind his jaw. his lashes are damp. it is everything he wants and everything he cannot have and he can't—

"look at me."

"i can't," he breathes, lungs rising fast and shallow. he's afraid to open his eyes. he's afraid of what he'll see.

"yes, you can." zoro shifts closer and another hand joins the first. it's big and rough and warm and he holds sanji's face like he's the moon herself. "look at me, curly."

he can't.

he does.

zoro's gaze is almost painful to meet straight-on with how intense it is. he seems to realise, face softening as he leans closer, closer, posture loose enough that it would be no problem for sanji to shove him away. "you love me," he breathes. "yes or no?"

sanji's heart stops. his tongue is clumsy in his mouth, his brain a mess of yesnoyesyesnoiwon'tican’tido—

"don't think." zoro's voice cuts through the haze as he shakes his head slowly; a sword through smoke, silver-bright, singing in the air and leaving silence. "don't think. you love me, yes or no."

the galley swims around sanji as his vision blurs. he feels his tears spill hot down his cheek, knows the way zoro aches to brush them away and yet stays still. he opens his mouth and it feels like stepping out of the only shelter he's ever known; he is an open fucking wound and he's raw and everything hurts, everything but zoro. zoro. zoro. "yes."

just one word, three simple letters, and still it feels like damnation; if he'd never said it he could deny it but now it's real. the swordsman relaxes, shoulders dropping enough that his forehead brushes sanji's, and sanji tracks the way his throat bobs. the way steel-grey eyes flicker over his face, molten in the light of the electric lamps and the moonlight spilling through the window, gilding zoro like something out of a dream. a fairytale sanji read as a child until the edges of the pages fitted familiar to his thumbs as his little hands reached for a happy ending that was never meant to be his.

he shakes, now, as zoro reaches up to run tentative fingers through straw-pale hair. "let me love you. yes or no."

"i—" the sound that twists from his mouth is cracked jagged down the middle, unpolished as a common pebble picked up off the damn street. "you don't—"

"yes or no."

"i'm not what you want," he gasps, his face wet.

"yes or no."

sanji wants to break apart. because zoro sounds like he's begging, and he cannot fathom anybody possibly wanting him that much. he wants to scream and cry and claw at the walls until his nails break. he wants to shatter into pieces all over the floor without having to worry about putting himself back together. he wants. he wants, and zoro's looking at him with the closest thing to reverence he's seen in his life, and even that isn't enough for him to believe it. "i'm not what you want."

he can barely look at zoro. he can barely look at himself. the shame is clawing a pit into his stomach, and he lets it, feels every inch of it, because what kind of person doesn't know how to be loved? his breath catches wetly as zoro cups his jaw in both hands, tilting his face up, and once again sanji is too weak to pull away.

"you are everything i want."

the words are so fierce, so sure, and sanji is cracking apart at the seams. the stitches pulled tight by his own hand are unravelling and he can't stop it—

"yes or no."

zoro's breath ghosts warm across his mouth, fingertips in his hair, just far away enough for sanji to see the way his eyes are blazing and yet he waits. his thumb on sanji's cheek is the gentlest thing sanji has ever known.

"you'll get tired of me," he tries weakly, one last time for good measure, and zoro just shakes his head. the resolve in his expression does not waver even once.

sanji breaks.

"yes." the word scrapes itself out of his throat seconds before arms are going around him, and he sobs. lets the swordsman bring them both to the kitchen floor as he curls up in zoro's lap, fingers clawing into his white shirt, numb with how hard he cries because nobody, nobody has ever stayed. not without him getting hurt in the process. he pushes them away when he gets scared and they let him and then it becomes his fault when it all blows up in his face, but zoro's not leaving, and it's so foreign to him that he's shaking so badly and he can't stop.

a warm, heavy palm smooths over his spine and he lets himself be shifted closer, settles sideways as zoro wraps an arm over his shins and rocks them until his breathing evens out. the embarrassment hits like a gut punch; he knows he looks like a mess, face blotchy and hair everywhere and eyes puffy as hell, but zoro cards his bangs out of his eyes and looks at him like he doesn't care, and sanji turns away.

he feels... fragile. like he's made of tinted glass and spun sugar, like he'll cave in at the slightest touch. there is something melting in his chest and it drips down over his ribs; pools fresh as a river in spring, offset by the grounding presence of zoro's hands on his skin. "don't say i didn't warn you," he mumbles, masking his very real fear behind a layer of watery bravado as he hides his face in zoro's shoulder, and of course, of course zoro sees right through him.

the swordsman's thumb traces the swirl of his eyebrow before zoro rests his chin on top of sanji's head. "i don’t listen. you know that."

you know me, is what goes unsaid, and sanji doesn't deign to reply. he buries his face into zoro's chest and breathes in the smell of steel and sword oil and— he sits up slightly, eyes narrowing. "you've been stealing my deodorant, yes or no." the way zoro stills momentarily is a dead giveaway, and he yelps when the swordsman flicks his forehead.

"would you rather i be stinky?" zoro scoffs, rolling his eyes gently as sanji settles back down with a huff.

"you still are stinky. if we're gonna be together i'm expecting you to shower at least once every two days—" zoro groans, and he powers through, raising his voice, "—and if you aren't fussy i'll let you shower with me."

the way zoro instantly stops complaining cracks a laugh out of him. it's weak and watered-down, but it's a start. zoro's hands slide back into his hair and he hums as he lets his eyes fall shut.

the moon's full tonight. their ship rocks gently, and sanji gets comfortable; zoro's warm and solid and happens to make a perfectly respectable pillow. the thought that he can have this now sends a thrill through him.

he's not a fool. he's not optimistic when it comes to this. when it comes to love.

but with zoro's thumb rubbing mindless circles against the side of his thigh and a kiss pressed to the top of his head, he's got a pretty good feeling about this time around.

[surreal-duck]

catch you!!!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I imagine that when König doesn't eat enough (especially considering how massive he is, that 6'10 giant in camo.) and when the colder seasons roll around he's all sleepy and slow (think, Wall-E before getting his solar charge.) bit once he get enough food and is warm enough it's like he slowly comes alive and is able to do more and get stuff done.

Yes have you seen that slutty little waist and that itty bitty tummy?? Guy has crazy fast metabolism and stands about 10 feet tall so he needs a lot of food and also a pair of woolen socks and mittens... He has poor blood flow in his feet and hands and if he eats a lot all the blood goes to his stomach. Poor thing 💔

Maybe that’s why he’s so grumpy and therefore -> trigger happy, König is always underfed and cold climates make him look like a huge, stiff, walking icicle. His skin could be blazing like a furnace and still he claims he’s cold, pulls you closer for snuggles and won’t say no to an extra blanket. When his cold shins and feet meet yours, you shriek :( Even worse are the icy fingers that steal their way under your shirt...

[sketchy-tour]

Perhaps the minatour was in the friends we made along the way.