#me segue

[mashmouths]

what? oh yeah i'm a huge swiftie :) i loved "a modest proposal" and though "gulliver's travels" was really context-dependent, once you parse it it's a truly brilliant work of satire

[a2zillustration]

Does croissant and gale get married in your story?

It's certainly something they plan to do!

But not just yet.

🥐 Croissant Adventures Masterpost 🥐

[hothammies]

the usage of the lyrics “i don't know what you mean to me, but i wanna turn you on, turn you up, figure it out - i wanna take you on” right after carmy's apology to sydney is so serious to me and i wish we talked about it more. i think it's one of the only times where we get an explicit idea of what carmy thinks of syd in a romantic context and i fucking LIVE for it the lighting, the acting, the attempted phone call, the ambiguity of that entire scene to confuse us on whether or not he's thinking about sydney or if he's thinking about claire in the lyrics - all of it is so so so fucking scrumptious AHHH i love that shit i love this show so much

[howfrightening]

i love hetty woodstone so much she really is the character that’s the friend who will drop traumatic lore so casually and carry on to something else so quickly that no one gets the chance to really examine it

[marblerose-rue]

braixen

(request)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

you cannot tease wei wuxian and hua cheng hunting for funsies and not show that to us??? it has to go one of two ways right? either an absolute visious blood bath where everyone cowers in fear or the equivalent of a teenage girl's slumber party. both??? both.

Hunting each other for sport is the keystone to a fun slumber party

[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.

[noirandchocolate]

Happy Fathers Day Tumblr, my 70-year-old dad just told me this joke out of the blue:

What has two butts and kills people?

An assassin.

[reactionimagesdaily]

Got any Dunmeshi/Delicious in Dungeon reaction images? I know Marcille has a BUNCH of them!

lmao she sure does!

[manuuart]

This is an old art from 8 mounths ago that I'll redraw it this week, but I kinda wanted to show it anyway ❤

[kyuala]

kykão td q eu queria pra hoje era queimar o juizo do pipe.

passando um jogo do river e a loba fogosissima sentando no colo dele, beijando o pescoço, atrapalhando a visão do jogo, passando as mão nos peitao e ele correspondendo os selinhos alisando mas desesperado pra continuar assistindo. "Dale, papi, te quiero tanto" ai ele se enfeza diz q ta ocupado e a loba sendo LOBA diz "Se você não quer,felipe, tem quem queira" e vai pro quarto e só sai com um shortinho beira cu dizendo que vai pedir pro carinha do 215 comer ela então. Onxe já se viu, negar fogo por futebol? E SÓ ASSIM, pra ele comer bem bruto chamando de putinha desesperada.

Ps: e mesmo depois se o jogo ainda tivesse passando ela ia falar q quer assistir filme de princesa só pra provocar e ele assistir quieto tudinho

AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU absolute cinema.

nossa que SABORRRR gostaria mt de ser a namoradinha atribulada do pipe que só faz ele passa raiva e acaba com a sanidade dele 💔 nossa e acho que ele até ia gostar no início coitado ACREDITANDO mesmo que o motivo de sentar no colo dele era pra assistir a galinha gloriosa jogando pfffff tarrrr... quando vc começasse a beijar o pescoço ele já ia ficar meio 🤨 ficando em silêncio ou perguntando que que tu quer (td dependeria do tipo de relacionamento de vcs) mas certeza que quando começasse a atrapalhar a visão do jogo ele começaria a perder um pouco a paciência, te pedindo pra parar de tampar a visão, quando vc passasse a mão nas tetona dele então ele já saberia o que se passa nessa sua cabecinha PORÉM ☝🏼 ele é fraco ainda é apenas um homem então óbvio que super corresponderia os beijinhos, manteria a mão na sua cintura ou quadril (ou melhor ainda na bunda 🫦) ou te faria um carinho nas costas (até por isso eu sou mto crente na ideia de que ele não resistiria não e te comeria ali mesmo com o jogo ainda passando na tv fodase ele pode rever depois no sportv AGORA SUA BUCETA? é sempre prioridade aqui nessa casa (ainda mais com vc chamando ele de papi e falando que quer tanto dar p ele) 🛐 old q ele também ainda continuaria prestando atenção no jogo kkkkkkkkkk pensando aki nele metendo e ouvindo o narrador falar de um gol perdido e parando de meter pra reclamar indignado com a tv ai ai mas pelo bem da fic aqui vamos imaginar que seja um jogo decisivo importante demais que pra ele ele TEM q acompanhar ao vivo)

primeiro que ele já ia ficar puto com o "se vc não quer tem quem queira" pq QUEM? QUEM QUEIRA? DIZ PRA ELE AGORAAAAAAAAAAAAAA QUEM TÁ TE QUERENDO QUEM EH O VAGABUNDOOOOO mas iria engolir esse sapo da falta de resposta em nome do jogo do river. aí quando tu saísse falando do carinha do 215.... menina.... o homem ia se transformar, ia levantar e ia atrás de vc, só não ia te pegar pelos braços pq ele ainda é um gentleman e tem noção das coisas mas com certeza te perguntaria se você tá louca kkkkkkkk te jogaria de volta no sofá, te botaria de quatro, te encheria de tapa e meteria com força pra te deixar quietinha, mansinha e pra vc aprender que só ele pode te comer E tão bem assim 💔 chamaria de putinha desesperada por pica MESMO bem puto de vdd mas ele prefere morrer do que deixar a mulher dele ir procurar fora de casa o que tem dentro

A PARTE DO FILME DE PRINCESA ME PEGOU KKKKKKKKKK certeza q ele reclamaria e falaria que aí já é demais mas se estivesse mto ttpb (topa tudo por buceta) no dia nossa eu ia amar ver ele td bicudinho assistindo o filme quietinho apenas obedecendo 💭

[toskarin]

speaking of how soundtracks tie into gameplay :)

one of my favourite completely random pieces of hellsinker trivia is that scarlet queen dives into the stage at an angle matched to the panning on the first orchestral hit in the shared s1-2 boss theme

in 0.95, the hit plays from the right channel and scarlet queen drifts in gently from the top right (at this point, her entrance speed was on-par with the other 1-2 bosses)

but in 1.0 onwards, the hit plays from the left audio channel as scarlet queen crashes in from the top left, firing a mostly decorative barrage to try and make the player retreat back in time with the music

[stevethehairington]

just thinking about how many absolutely PERFECT openings they have created for a Feelings Realization for both buck and eddie and how THEY HAVE SQUANDERED EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!!!!!

[moon-zazai]

I wanted to have you by my side, not in my mind 🌙

Ser for salvar, segue e curta !

[solarishashernoseinabook]

last night I finished the Silmarillion and this morning I picked up The Hobbit and lemme tell you the difference in writing style is giving me whiplash

[wikiangela]

last line tag

tagged by @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @lover-of-mine @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz 💖💖

___

It’s a good few weeks, and it feels like everyone’s back on track, settling into their lives again, figuring everything out one day at a time. Buck’s happy. He has his awesome girlfriend, his best friend seems finally more at ease, even if the divorce is adding some stress, and his other best friend is happier than ever with his mom around. Everything’s finally starting to go great.

And then it all gets disrupted again.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @loserdiaz @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @ladydorian05 @malewifediaz @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @spotsandsocks @hoodie-buck @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jeeyuns