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#he lives by the shirt ;)
temeyes · 1 month
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im asking the important questions here, shut up!!
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budgieflitter · 2 months
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tankjohnny but they're like in their 40s and divorced and depressed and trying to figure shit out
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE @jules-cant-build 💕💕💕💕💕
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sctumsempra · 2 months
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androgynous summer snape but make them sleepy!!!
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transjudas · 1 year
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One of the hardest things about watching LOTMS is seeing Gerard in crisis and seeing those around him who love him doing their best to look out for him. And the past year we’ve gotten to see that same love and support while they seem to be doing so much better coping with things even through the pandemic. Because no matter how you’re coping, having friends by your side there for you is everything. (x, x)
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hegory-grousing · 3 months
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felt compelled to draw mr dr fruity malpractice from memory and put him in this extremely good @shiftythrifting shirt. it's so him. plus sneaky peek of the sketch for my next painting ehehe ohoho
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 11 months
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Eddie definitely wears a sleep shirt and nothing else to bed. It pools around his thighs, and the neck hole is too stretched out. The front is covered in stains. Some of its coffee, some of it food stains. It's hard to tell what the other stains are. It definitely used to be a white shirt. There was a faint outline on the shirt as if it used to have a picture on it. It might have been Garfield.
Well, Steve was dropping off something for Max when he decided to check in on Eddie and maybe return his vest. They had gotten a new, fancy two bedroom trailer after Vecna. It was really nice, Steve thought as he climbed the steps with Eddie's vest clutched in his chest. He knocked on the door, and Eddie answered it wearing the shirt. His hair was in a messy bun that looked like he had been wearing it for days.
"Hey, Stevie," Eddie grinned.
"Hey, I was stopping by Max's, I thought I would return your vest," Steve said, staring at him.
He really shouldn't, but this look of Eddie's. . . It was really sexy. Steve blinked owlishly at him.
"Thanks," Eddie said, taking the vest. "Um, what? Do I have something on my face?"
"Uh, you have a cheeto in your hair," Steve said.
Eddie reached up, took it out, sniffed it, and popped it into his mouth. A fluttering of affection filled his chest, and Steve wanted to shake his head. Suddenly, Wayne Munson's voice floated from somewhere inside.
"Goddamnit, Eddie, throw that shirt out!" Wayne hollered.
Eddie turned around to yell at him, and Steve’s blush deepened. There was a smattering of holes spreading across the end of the shirt as though it had gotten snagged on something. Eddie's ass was showing.
"No, I shan't, Uncle Wayne!"
"At least put on some underwear, boy!"
"I like a nice breeze under there, Uncle Wayne!"
Eddie started bending his knees in a sort of half squats.
"Steve doesn't want to see your ass, son!"
"You don't know him! Flat asses might just be his thing!"
Oh, if only he knew.
"I'm in love with you," Steve blurted out.
"Good news, Uncle Wayne! My shirt has attracted a mate! I'm not getting rid of this shirt now! Just when I was thinking about throwing it out," Eddie said cheerfully.
"Son," Wayne said, appearing in the doorway. "You couldn't have told him some other time?"
"Uh. . .sorry?"
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dagss · 8 months
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overalls!!!!!!
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yrsonpurpose · 6 months
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@rwrbmovie & @rwrbsource’s rwrbweek day 5 | fashion ❉ henry + casual clothes
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tiddygame · 22 days
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ghost’s civilian wardrobe is nothing but hawaiian shirts. soap is in utter disbelief the first time he sees it. ghost says they’re good bc:
it’s so fucking ugly, no one can stand to look at it for too long so he doesn’t draw attention
No one thinks the ghost would wear something so bright and stupid meaning he’s completely under cover every time he’s on leave
they’re cheap and an easy thrift
but he just really fucking likes how goddamn ugly they are
at least, that’s what he tells soap. and himself. in reality, they were always tommy’s thing. he always wore them to the point everyone knew that the safest gift to get him was the ugliest patterned shirts they could find. in every family photo, tommy was the easiest to spot with the brightest eye sore worn proudly with a smile.
after that cold night in december, all of their stuff was either donated or thrown away.
one day, ghost was thrift shopping (because even though now he had more money, habits from being raised in a poor home die hard) and saw one of them. he froze. at first, he thought it was just one that looked similar. but when he inspected it, it even had that old tear tommy had gotten simon to fix and sew up for him.
he grabbed it in a daze. he searched every rack in that store and found a few more hawaiian shirts. if they were tommy’s or not didn’t matter. he bought them. for days, he hunted through every thrift store in town buying every stupid patterned shirt he saw.
knowing that the few shirts he collected was the only thing he had left of his baby brother finally broke him. he probably looked insane, sitting in his old beat up pickup truck, surrounded by shopping bags from different stores, crying into a yellow and orange button up with flowers on it, and one sewn up tear on the sleeve. but it was tommy’s. and it was all he had.
at first, they were hidden away in a box. he lied to himself that it was because he wanted to keep them safe, but in reality, he couldn’t look at them without either wanting to cry or punch holes in the wall.
but, one christmas, he finally pulls his head out of his ass and grabs them. visits the cemetery in a stupid yellow and orange monstrosity of a shirt and complains that tommy couldn’t have had a better fashion sense.
he wears another when he has to go grocery shopping. and again when he runs errands. and again. and again. and again.
the first time one of them got something on it, he almost cried and pulled every trick his mother taught him about removing stains. the shadow of it persisted but the pattern covered most of it.
eventually, they became a staple of his wardrobe.
years later, soap watched ghosts careful routine he had for washing the shirts. they were always washed separately on delicate and air dried with routine inspections for any holes or tears. it would click later, when finding an old family photo, one with a young boy on simon’s shoulders and another man next to him in a familiar yellow and orange shirt, that perhaps simon hadn’t been entirely truthful when he said he just liked them.
simon was scared the first time soap did his laundry, but johnny always washed them with the same level of care, following the exact same routine. he still made fun of him (lovingly, of course), saying that crimes against fashion must run in the family.
and further down the line, years later, they will be old and graying with wrinkles, wearing matching hawaiian shirts. johnny will complain about how ugly they are yet will still wear it happily (and tune out simon reminding him that it was johnnys idea to start matching)
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cyncerity · 4 months
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people really liked the tits clip apparently, so here’s a clip of the theater breaking down and being unable to play the movie properly
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seonghwasblr · 3 months
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One chance is all I ask!!
Random Seonghwa sets [3/∞]
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lesbiradshaw · 3 months
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Jacob Elordi on the set of Saturday Night Live
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rizsu · 8 months
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"let me introduce you to—" satoru stops, sneaking his foot under the changing room's curtain. "the best shirt you've ever seen!"
aggressively shoving the curtain aside, he stands with two hands on his hip, showing off the excellent yellow polkadot and kiwi-patterned shirt. to satoru, he scored the entire gold mine. to you, it's the ugliest shirt that's ever been in your vision.
not wanting to burst his bubble, you lie through your teeth, "it's wonderful. i love it!"
"what a terrible liar," he pouts, knowing that you're standing there lying to his face.
"i'm not lying! seriously, i love your... pretty shirt!" you lied again.
satoru puts his hands down, sighing as he unbuttoned his shirt. "i know, i know. not everyone understands art."
you looked at him with squinted eyes. quick to attack him, you reply, "don't push it, kiwi galore."
moving his fingers to mimic talking, he exits the changing room, holding dearly onto his beloved shirt. only god knows what its destiny's going to be if it ends up in your palms. many times he's brought home matching versions of the ugly shirts and many times its female matching pair went missing.
"one day i'm gonna replace your closet with my shirts and you'll end up learning to appreciate REAL art," emphasizing on his words, satoru focuses on retrieving his card to pay for the items.
accepting his card with a "thanks," you placed all items on the counter, ignoring his presence.
"would you want separate bags or all together?" the cashier asks.
"all together, please," you replied.
"wait," satoru intervenes. "can you put my shirts separate?"
you shot a glare at him, knowing he's going to repeat the same "real art" sentences again.
"i want my real art pieces away from the modern day simplicity." and so he proves your statements to be true.
"satoru, those ugly shirts aren't from the renaissance artworks."
"well they are now! you're just jealous."
you sighed again, looking back at the cashier with an apologetic face.
"don't worry, it's no problem," the cashier reassures you. "i also think the shirts are true art."
"please don't encourage his behaviour—"
"real people recognizes real art," satoru cuts you off, extending one arm to wipe his tears as the other shakes the cashier's.
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moved-2-koiranliha · 11 months
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i love being able to draw whatever i want
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petite-phthora · 11 months
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So about that dinner…
[DP x DC fic]
[Love at first... murder? - part 2]
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Part 1
Ao3
---
Danny lets out a long groan as he enters his apartment.
He’s dead tired— hehe, ‘dead’ tired— due to an exhausting schoolday and having been unable to fall back asleep last night after what happened.
So sure, he might have started having a panic attack when he got back to his apartment when what he had just done had finally fully sunken in.
And he might have spiraled even more, even going as far as to try and trap himself in a Fenton thermos, thinking he was back on the path to becoming Dan.
Luckily for him, a green sticky note, left by his favorite unnecessarily cryptic mentor, appeared.
It let him know that he is no more on the path to becoming Dan than prior to the incident and that the actions he had taken that night, while vexatious, were necessary for the betterment of the timeline.
Whatever that means.
By the time he had come to terms with his actions enough to stop spiraling and remember that he has school soon. He checked the time, noticing that he only had a few minutes left until his next class started.
Which meant he had to sprint to his classes and start the day off already tired and emotionally drained. He hadn’t even been able to at least get a coffee beforehand. And so he spent the rest of the day fighting to stay awake during his lessons, sporting eye bags big enough to carry the weight of his sins.
Danny glances at the space-themed clock on the wall that Jazz had gotten him as a housewarming gift. 6 pm. He should probably get started on dinner.
Deciding to go with something simple, as he simply does not have the energy for anything fancy right now, Danny opens the cupboard and grabs the first thing he sees: a box of mac n cheese. Danny rubs his eyes and squints at the box, trying to read the instructions when he gets interrupted by a knock.
On his window.
Danny turns around to see Red Hood at his window, outside of his 3rd-floor apartment. He pauses before shrugging it off. Stranger things have happened. He sets the box down and makes his way over to the window. He opens the window once he reaches it, only to come face to face with a bouquet of sweet peas, the colors ranging from white and pink to lavender.
Oh, those are his favorite.
He gingerly takes the flowers before looking over the top of the bouquet at the person who handed them to him. Ah, yes. The crime lord. Who had seen him commit murder.
Danny stares at him, debating on whether he should ask him what he’s doing here or thank him for the flowers. Red Hood speaks up before Danny can make a decision.
“So about that dinner… ” He trails off, tone laced with hope and a slight nervousness.
“Right.” Danny nods with understanding, despite not having a clue what Red Hood was talking about, his joke the night before having slipped from his mind.
“I’ve got the entire night planned out for us. First, we’ll have dinner at Pete’s. They recently rebuilt and they have this amazing cannoli, you have to try it sometime.
“And then after dinner, we’ll go to the Gotham Observatory—“
Danny, not even questioning how the crime lord found out where he lives and that he loves space, cuts him off in excitement.
“Wait! Isn’t that the one with the crystal powered telescope?”
Red Hood nods and holds out a hand to him expectantly.
Danny stares at the hand for a moment before shrugging, setting the flowers down on a table, and taking the offered hand. He lets Red Hood lead him out of his own window.
Once Red Hood has helped him down to the ground and led him to his motorcycle, it dawns on Danny he’s going on a date(?) with a known crime lord— or wasn’t it former crime lord now?
Well, who was Danny to refuse a trip to the observatory and some good cannoli?
Who knows, he might even get a new boyfriend out of it.
---
Red Hood takes his helmet off and sets it down on the table between them so he can eat.
Danny tries not to stare too much but damn, he’s handsome, even if he’s still wearing the mask.
Danny takes a bite of his food to try and distract himself, idly noting that ohhh, this is some good spaghetti. He'll have to try the cannoli if it's as good as their pasta.
Red Hood is the one to start the conversation.
“Hey, so, since we didn’t get to talk more last night, I still wanted to thank you for your service to the city”
“My what?”
“I’ve been wanting to kill that insane clown for years now.” Red Hood continues.
“And while I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t get to end his miserable existence myself, I’m so glad he’s finally gone. So, thank you” he says, looking Danny right in the eye with an earnest expression.
Feeling a mix of flustered at the heavy gaze that’s on him, and confused by the other’s words, Danny stammers out a bewildered “You’re… welcome?”
Red Hood nods at him before continuing.
“And you don’t have to worry about others finding out if you don’t want them to. I ain’t a snitch, and I’ll try to keep the Bats off your back the best I can.”
Danny gives him a nod in gratitude.
“Though honestly, I’d doubt you’d have to deal with much trouble even if people did know it was you who got rid of him.
“The Joker has done a lot of horrid shit and caused a lot of grief for Gotham over the years. He’s had it coming for a long time now, so don’t even feel too bad about it. It might even become a local holiday when his death comes out!”
However, something Red Hood had said stood out to Danny. He stiffens before blurting something out in a tone that sounded even more panicked than when he accidentally killed the clown.
“THAT CLOWN I PUNCHED WAS THE JOKER?!”
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yuviur · 5 months
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And then, Henry is holding them really tight, more for his security than theirs, and he walks out of the dungeon (ep 42)
I cannot be the only one who cried when the twins climbed Henry and sat on his shoulders like two loving pauldrons 🥺
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