Welcome to Wonderland~

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ive been meaning to make work-related comics forever, so enjoy some choice movie title bastardizations.

(these all actually, seriously, happened, with no humor or awareness on the part of the customer at the time as far as I could tell. so, yes, someone actually asked for a ticket to “Detergent” with a straight face.)

(via cruco)

44,606 notes


So I follow my aunties on pintrest for like sharing recipes and stuff but today one of them posted this gif:


and they’re all commenting like “the perfect man” and “what all women want ;)” and stuff like that

And I’m over here laughing my ass off because that’s gay porn star, Austin Wolf. This gif is from a gay porno. Like, literally 5 seconds after this moment, he has a cock in his mouth.

(via get-your-ass-in-the-impala)

41 notes

ways to go


Levi isn’t necessarily tactile in the way that Erwin can be; for the most part, Erwin’s good about this—he holds his limbs close to himself, his hands fisted at his sides even though they sometimes ache to touch the soft skin of Levi’s neck. These are things he doesn’t ask Levi about, about the self-loathsome twist of his mouth and his words, the way he coils in on himself hard and defensive. Instead, Erwin respects it as much as he can, and waits for Levi to ask for more.

It doesn’t occur to him for months of straining not to touch Levi, that Levi is staining to be touched.

Hanji points it out, voice and gaze soft. “I think he’s touch-starved, you know. I wouldn’t be surprised, with his past.”

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25 notes

no army where he’s headed


There’s a striking handsomeness to Erwin, even here—gaunter-cheeked than the pictures in his room suggest he once was, right arm missing, shadows purple and black in the bags under his eyes, his skin made paler and finer by contrast to the white cotton shirt and pants that make up the uniform here. There’s military-rigidity to the line of his back and a keenness in the sharp blue of his eyes.

The first time Levi sees him, he thinks Erwin’s presence here is a joke. His own scars are obvious and literal, etched neatly across his arms in pink, puckering lines. 

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When they meet, Erwin’s married. Levi takes one look at the ring on his finger, twists his lips, and says, “I don’t fuck married guys.”

Erwin nods. Erwin wears three-piece suits and worry in the wrinkles by the corners of his eyes. He’s nursing a whiskey that he’s been working at all night. “I respect that,” he says. “But I’m not asking you to fuck me.”

"Then what are you asking for?" 


"Fuck," Levi snorts, shaking his head. This has bad idea written all over it and he knows it. But Levi’s life has been a series of bad decisions, things he did despite knowing better not to; he doesn’t regret them, really, but he isn’t proud of them either. "Why not?"

"You don’t have to," Erwin tells him. He means it, too, and Levi knows he does, even if the open turning of Erwin’s body in his direction is hopeful.

He has a vague suspicion of how this will all end. It doesn’t stop him from agreeing, from wanting things that aren’t his and have never been his—knowing how it ends never has. That’s always been the root of his problems.

"It’s fine." He waves down the bartender to order another drink. 

Erwin doesn’t press further. His mouth simply curves softly instead. 

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