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#q&a was SO good
spiritpowerandsoul · 6 months
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made eye contact with johnny marr so much tonight. can die happily <3
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You ever have those moments where an idea just... won't leave your head?
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bruciemilf · 1 month
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Jason’s protectiveness over his dad comes to bite him in the ass when a rumor chain about Red Hood and Bruce Wayne dating spreads like wildfire.
Everyone is disgusted and amused in equal parts
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torsamors · 8 months
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Patrick and Pete throughout the years
"I remember looking at Pete and Patrick and telling Pete, “You're the luckiest guy in the world because you found this guy." Patrick laughed. Then I turned to Patrick and said the same thing to him. They fit together so perfectly. Pete listens to electronic music and pop. He DJs. Patrick likes old soul and classic R&B. The fact that Patrick found this guy with this vision; Pete had everything for the band laid out in his mind. And the fact that Pete found a guy who can sing like that and take his lyrics and work with them - which is an art unto itself. It's really the combination of those two that really creates the sound and the songs. They're just really lucky they found each other."
- Bob McLynn
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rozugold · 1 year
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AAAA!
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xiewho · 2 months
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hypothetically what if we were three Dudes and it was spring break and we all believed in each other
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piss-stained-jorts · 8 months
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BABYGIRL YOUR SMILE GIV ES ME LIFE I LOVE YOU
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chai-berries · 8 months
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thinking..thinking about napping with abby..
OOOOOOF one of my favorite topics <333
now i don’t know if abby is a nap girlie but she’s gonna have to learn to be!! whether she’s coming home to you, already asleep, warm and waiting for her to cuddle up against you, under your (very specific) napping blankets. all the tension leaves her shoulders when you unconsciously tuck yourself into her :(
or maybe she’s the one taking a midday nap on the couch. she sleeps like the dead, her arms crossed and tucked into her armpits even in sleep. the hood of her sweatshirt is synched up to block out the light from her eyes. when you get home, the door wakes her up, a sleepy “baby?” calls to you from the hallway. and there she is looking ooey gooey and sooo fucking cute you could EAT! HER! UP! but you would never do that so you just lay on top of her for twenty minutes getting a mini post-work nap in before dinner. don’t forget to kiss her all over her face!!!!
abby’s favorite is when you guys are watching tv or reading in the living room, limbs tossed over each other. you’re both straining against that sleepy phase that hits at 3pm but it’s just soooo cozy!!! you have a good book in your hands, one of abby’s hands is softly massaging your calf muscles. the other hand is holding her book open (which is one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen). and you’re so warm, like you can’t help it!!! you fall asleep. it takes abby two minutes to realize you’re asleep, when your book drops to your chest. she gathers both the books and puts them on the coffee table. rearranging a little to put her feet up and sink into the couch more. she keeps massaging your legs until sleep takes her.
…, sooo idk if you can tell but sleep is my love language. thank you for listening 🫶
more abby napping content below!
sharing a bed
midday nap
morning kisses
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sadbeautifulttragic · 9 months
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the eras tour + midnights t-shirt dresses (x)
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the-ace-with-spades · 2 months
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(I adore fics where Johnny’s family loves Ghost from day one, but, you know…angst)
Soap and Ghost had been together for almost two years. They never name the relationship, really, but it's serious and they both know it.
Thing is, Johnny's seen Ghost's face a total of four times, counting Las Almas.
Well, he sees parts of it regularly, more than others. Ghost will either roll the balaclava up when they're reading together in bed or when they're eating. Sometimes, when Soap wants to go out and Ghost indulges him, he goes in public in just either a face mask or a gaiter and Soap can see his short wavy blonde hair sticking all over the place and 
The four times he had seen Simon’s face in it’s whole — obviously, Las Almas; one time when he was unconscious and bleeding from a head wound and Johnny had to check; one time when they took a shower together, Simon stayed with his back toward him through most of it, but when they finished, he let Johnny dry off his hair; one time, when Johnny asked him to see him for his birthday presents, a few minutes after midnight.
Johnny wasn’t sure why exactly Simon didn’t want to show him his face. It wasn’t a trust thing — he trusted Johnny with more than his own life — and it wasn’t like he was ugly — he was downright sinful. He never drilled the topic because he didn’t care, if SImon wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready, but if he had to guess, it was all to do with identity and being seen. No one knew his face — people could know his name, Simon “Ghost” Riley, but they wouldn’t know the man behind the mask. Wouldn’t know the people behind Simon “Ghost” Riley.
(Johnny wasn’t completely off on the assumption — Simon didn’t want anyone to know his face because faceless people weren’t missed. Faceless graves — like his own — didn’t have people to leave behind, and faceless soldiers didn’t have loved ones to find and he was both. No one could get hurt if he remained faceless. Or at least that’s what he’d been telling himself.)
And Johnny is okay with that — if Simon never showe him his face again, he’d still love him all the same. Johnny’s family? Not so much.
They’re supposed to be in Glasgow for five days total, leaving after Boxing Day. Johnny gives them all a warning, that Ghost is a bit shy and doesn’t like showing his face, he’ll most likely stay covered the whole time, he might be wearing a balaclava, or a mask, he probably won't eat at the table.
When they arrive at his parents house, it almost seems like everyone forgot. Like everyone thought it'd be more mild or that Johnny was exaggerating.
There are looks. There is silence. People can't stop staring.
His mam takes one look at Simon’s balaclava once they enter the living room and looks funny at them. “Ah thooght Ah tauld ye boays tae strip doon.”
“Mam, lea him alane,” he tries but he can tell that Simon is getting tense and his mam is getting tense.
His mam, who is usually the sweetest person ever, is uncharacteristically quiet and curt whenever Simon is around. Simon doesn't really know how to make it better — Johnny's never seen him so silent outside of stealth missions, he just stands there like a sore thumb, not making anything less awkward. He didn't expect him to — Simon's social skills are lacking and he loves him that way — but he expected his own family to not make such a big deal out of that mask.
His da is stern and silent, which is as disapproving as he gets. His sisters are a bit weirded out, but mostly focused on teasing Johnny, even making fun of the mask. With a stupid grin, his older sister asks, “Does he keep it oan in bed?”
Johnny doesn't say anything to that, even though his face feels red. His sisters stop laughing.
“He does?” When Johnny tries to step out of the room and avoid the conversation, his sister’s tone changes. “Hae ye e’en seen his face?”
“O’ coorse Ah hae,” he spits out. He doesn’t specify it was only four times — he doesn’t think it’d help. “And ‘s a bonnie ane, alricht.”
It doesn’t save the situation and his sisters are also weirded out and wary from then on.
 The kids do not care — they ask maybe two questions, tilts their head as Simon explains and that’s it — and Johnny breathes a little easier as soon as his nieces push Simon outside to help them build a snowman.
The judgment doesn’t stop. Johnny’s blood boils any time it shows and even though Simon says it’s all fine, he can’t stop feeling angry about this. They just can’t get past the mask.
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are difficult to Simon and Johnny knows it. He’s given him the option to omit the family dinner on both those days if he’s not feeling alright enough to spend those days in crowdy house filled with a flock of loud and cheery people of all ages.
Simon knows this. He also knows that if he says he wants to stay at Johnny’s flat for the time being, Johnny is going to insist he doesn’t have to go either, that he’d prefer to stay in with him and not go for the Christmas dinner. Which he also knows is bullshit — Johnny loves Christmas, loves spenidng time with his family, that was basically why he kept on insisting Simon couldn’t stay alone at the base for Christmas another year in a row. It was the main reason why he agreed to go with Johnny in the first place, he was pretty sure if he didn’t go with him, Johnny would insist he stays, too. 
So Simon stays in for Christmas Eve — or rather goes to a pub while Soap spends the day with his parents — but insists they go to Christmas dinner. 
His family is disappointed to see him there, to the point the usual manuevering around politeness and disapproving go onto a backburner.
“John said yer nae a fan o’ Christmas,” Johnny’s mum says to him pointedly.
“That’s right.”
“And yet ye’r ’ere,” she notes.
Johnny is far away from the earshot and he doesn’t want to lie to her so he admits, “If I didn’t come, Johnny would insist on keepin’ me company.”
“How come ye dinnae try to hae a bit mair cheer fur th' holidays then? Put a bit mair effort in for ma baby.” 
Johnny notices and soon enough, he’s next to him, their arms brushing, Johnny’s hand on the small of his back. “Lea him alane, mam.”
“It’s fine,” he says even though it’s not fine. They deserve an explanation, even just to know what they son is getting himself into. “My family was murdered on Christmas Eve. I’m—I’m trying.”
The silence falls over the room — Johnny’s mum, dad, his sister, all present, not looking at them. Simon closes his eyes, tries to breathe.
Johnny rubs his back. “Let’s gae home.”
“I’m not ruining Christmas for you, Johnny,” he says. Before Johnny can deny it — and he knows he’d try — he tries to placate, “Let’s just have ourselves a minute to calm down.”
Maybe it’s the way his voice is perfectly levelled or the way his hand trembles as he squeezes Johnny’s, but he lets him leave the room.
He steps outside — to the backyard. Sits down on the step to the garden and lets the snow soak through his jeans and the top o his balaclava.
The kids come outside, tripping over Simon’s legs. They were all oblivious to the trails and errors of Simon’s integration into the family, so they approach him as always
“Whit's wrang?”
There’s just something so innocent in having a six-year-old girl covered from head to toe in pink and glitter worry about you. Simon would never admit it in front of Johnny, but he finds the accent cute.
Simon takes off the mask.
The kids all look at him and look at him, a bit unsure maybe a bit fearful — it can be a scary sight, he admits, the elongated, jagged smile that sticks to him no matter the mood, makes him more crazy than he already is — but only one of Johnny’s niece keeps her eyes on Simon’s face. 
Shily, she asks, “Does it hurt?”
“No,” he replies. When she smiles, he smiles back.
Not anymore.
This is Johnny’s family. Simon can deny it all he wants, but Johnny’s seen him as family, as someone he’d leave behind, and it hadn’t been unrequited. He can’t hide behind a mask forever and maybe this was the kick he needed.
He steps back inside when his hands turn numb. He doesn’t put the mask back on.
Johnny’s eyes widen. “Simon?”
Simon just—smiles. He can feel the scars pulling on the corners of his mouth, the stiffer skin, but he’s not faceless. He’s not been faceless for a while.
Edit (29/03/24): This is now a WIP for a minimum 15k fic, titled don't shoot me, santa, that will have 4 chapters and will be posted (hopefully) later in the year
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rubitheracoon · 2 months
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I have gathered a vast collection of alastor doing the hand over the month and a bit hazbin has been out
I'm gonna continuously edit this post whenever I find more
Now sit back and enjoy these screenshots of the silliest guy in hazbin hotel :] (aside from lucifer)
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I CANT ADD ANYMORE NOOOOOO
I reposted this with more images here :>
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abombihoney · 9 months
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she's so fucking mean 2 me
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squiremaximus · 2 months
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The beloved Ranger... I... I can't believe it! I grew up hearing all about your brave deeds. And Boo's, of course.
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aenslem · 10 months
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'War of the Sontarans' DOCTOR WHO
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fure-dcmk · 3 months
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if you cant change him join him
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i understand the whole "stop applying modern labels to the hypothetical gender & sexual identities of historical figures" argument but you gotta admit. just as a thought experiment it might be PRETTY DAMN FUN to imagine "okay say this renowned 19th century novelist was trans as fuck. how would we have to reinterpret their vast vast written body of work?"
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