Question, if you were a simple customer looking at a Giant billboard that said "red arse" with a picture of redhood on it that just said 'rent a bat' what would You assume the service was

i hope when you picture me you think of a korok with a backpack that’s too big

rin: calls bachira an idiot for pronouncing wednesday like 'wed-ness-day'

me, a native speaker who pronounces it 'wed-ness-day' sometimes to spell it:

new fave song - K.K. Lovers

#mood | Hayao Miyazaki and Ushiko in The Kingdom of Dreams and Madness (2013)

kenma kozume + comparing hand sizes

It’s an affectionate, tender sort of curiosity, wanting to know your partner’s body as if it’s your own. The kind of curiosity that stirs your desire to explore their skin, trace every dip and curve, and commit it to memory. It hits you one Saturday evening as you rest with Kenma on the couch, your head in his lap and his hand tracing a mindless pattern on your stomach.

You take his hand into yours then, brushing your fingers down the lines of his own, over the top of his knuckles, and back again. He’s not paying attention, not really, too enraptured with your latest Netflix binge to give too much mind to the feeling of your skin against his own. You’re thankful for it, grateful that you can memorize every inch with uninterrupted precision.

You turn his wrist over and follow the lines of his palm with the tip of your index finger. As you travel along his love line, you decide to press your palm to his and compare your hand sizes. At the feeling of the warmth of your palm, Kenma pulls his gaze from the tv.

“What’re you doing?”

“Your hands are smaller than I expected,” you tell him, a smile evident in your voice. “It’s cute.”

Kenma narrows his eyes at you. “They’re not that small. Yours are still smaller.”

You regard the way that his fingers peek out over the tops of yours and hum in agreement. “That is very true.” You continue to examine your connected palms for a moment longer before you slide your fingers between his and add, “I like it. They fit well together.”

“Mm,” he replies, a pink tinge appearing on his cheeks, “they do.”

After a long minute, Kenma finally tears his eyes away from yours, and the latest episode resumes though this time he keeps your fingers intertwined, occasionally bringing your joined hands up to his lips to drop a kiss on your skin.

I PHYSICALLY CAN'T MY HEART IS ABOUT TO BURST-

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a piece of you

We all take a little part of the people we love everywhere we go, captured in a photograph or in the recipes we memorize. It lingers in the way we wear our hair or the silly jokes we make with friends. We mirror, consume and display what we love, and by extension, who we love, in every action and phrase — an endless, ever-expanding galaxy littered with moments and precious memories spent watching and learning and loving. Even long after they leave us, pieces of our loved ones linger. They linger in our hearts and homes as if they belong, even if there is no longer any space for them. Stars can still be seen from the ground long after they’ve died, after all.

Hinata’s luggage is heavy as he wheels it through the airport, his backpack weighing him down as if it’s packed full of rocks. He’s just said goodbye to his mother and Natsu outside, just said goodbye to you, before his flight to Brazil. It was a decision that felt so right, so perfect, one that he’d spent weeks excitedly telling everyone about, but now, as he checks his luggage, he doesn’t understand the emotion that swirls somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach. As he settles into the plane, squished in the middle seat on his way to a country full of opportunities, his eyes mist over and sting with unshed tears. He was so unbelievably, undeniably, happy with his decision, so why did it feel so wrong, like he was missing something vital. He pats his pockets, a mental checklist running through his mind. Wallet, passport, pocket guide to Portuguese (Thanks, Yachi). So what was it?

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HIMEJIMA GYOMEI 石の柱、🥦 すべての中で最強 名誉の男

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 ♡ 癒しの自然風景 ♡