#blue mickey mouse shirt

[tyforthevnm]

tipgiblets: Going to break this into two posts, I had an incredible time helping @lsdunes on their new music video for Benadryl Subreddit which dropped today. #BTS #LSDunes #MusicVideo

[June 23, 2023]

[callmeblake]

L.S. Dunes - Benadryl Subreddit (Official Music Video) Directed/Shot/Edit - Nick and Pat Demarais Produced by Cheers Dude Productions Extras - Miles Iero, Cherry Iero, Jamia Iero, Kate Markovich, Eldar Markovich, Arina Markovich, Evan Nestor, James Bowman Ice Cream truck rental - Mike’s Ice Cream Trucks Lyrics: Don’t do it just because you think you should

You don’t owe anybody anything

You’re better off when you’re honest

Quit making promises that you can’t keep the consequences makes sense to me You brought it all onto yourself Your deception won’t last forever We won’t go back ever again We won’t go back ever again We won’t go back ever again We won’t go back ever again No, we won’t Give it time and some space to be sure Give it light and clean air to restore I suffer try to be exactly what you want Come clean Complain Come clean to me The armory is empty The armory is boarded shut We won't go back ever again We won't go back ever again We won't go back ever again We won't go back ever again Give it time and some space to be sure Give it light and clean air to restore We won't go back ever again We won't go back ever again We won't go back ever again We won't go back ever again We won't go back ever again We won't go back ever again We won't go back ever again We won't go back ever again The armory is empty

[skiplo-wave]

So we can use any Mickey now?

Nope just black and white Mickey.

So you can use first draft Mickey or steamboat Mickey but hat stays ON. And fyi Minnie Mouse is not in public domain.

Correction

Only one Minnie Mouse is public domain aka black and white one

[channelrat]

tagged by @carrieway to make myself in this picrew thank you for tagging me friend !!

my hair isn't this orange but this is as in between blonde/brown the picrew will let me be. this is 100% what i look like aside from the hair color even the outfit is in my closet

tagging (no pressure)

@piss-shark-official @starchild0985 @dilf-din @swiftermidnights @grace4867 @firefly464

[nonaonann]

There has to be a character out there, somewhere in something, where it'd be in character for them to say, "I'm getting popcorn for this," or something similar, and then reappearing with a popcorn bucket filled with buttered popcorn flavored jelly beans

[ambrozjas]

reader x gang request 🫶

Reader that can crochet making a sweater for the gang? (separate)

You don’t have to do and if you do, thanks 💓

the gang x reader that can crochet ꨄ︎

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

sorry i haven’t been posting as fast lately, this one took some time and i put MUCH LOVE into these blurbs, so i hope you guys enjoy xoxo 💕

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

some curse words, alcohol, a mention of a threading needle, let me know if i missed anything though !!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“what’s this?” DARRY asked, holding up a maroon crocheted sweater that he found in a box under your bed.

your head snapped to the sweater, remembering the night you spent hunched over a table, weaving a needle delicately through the yarn, sewing them together.

“oh, uh.. it’s a sweater?” you mentally facepalmed, of course it was a sweater.

darry just chuckled and turned it around, analyzing it and every little fiber of its material.

“i mean, did you make it?” he asked, blue eyes gazing at you. your face heated up under his stare, darry always seemed to hold this forward eye contact that nobody could beat.

“yeah, made it f’you actually.” you said, continuing to iron darry’s work shirt and directing your attention to cleaning.

a silence passed between you two for maybe ten seconds before darry let out a small, “ain’t that somethin’?”

“shut up.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“hey SODAPOP, let me talk to you for a sec.” you said, walking in front of him with your hands behind your back. he was on the couch, his attention now on you rather than the television.

“what is it, darlin’?” he inquired, a smile being brought on his face just from the sight of you. the corner of your eyes crinkled as you grinned, “made’cha something.” you said.

“that so? what is it?”

you brought your hands out in front of you, only to reveal in your hands a small crocheted pony, it had a golden brown yarn for its coat and black for its mane and tail, resembling sodapop’s old horse mickey mouse.

you knew how much he loved that horse, and how devastated he was when it got sold. even if it was definitely an ornery horse. so you crocheted him a little version of his old stable pony, so they could meet again.

soda’s eyebrows furrowed and the corners of his lips downturned a bit, before he looked back up at you. “you made this?” he asked. you nodded and rolled back and forth on the balls of your feet, anticipating his reaction.

“do you.. like it?” and before you could say more, soda pulled you down onto the couch to hug you.

“‘course i like it, thank you.” he said, rubbing your back when you hugged him back.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you groaned as you rested your head on PONYBOY’s bed. you were sitting on the floor, already starting to work on a sweater for your him (although, he didn’t have to know that part), but couldn’t settle on a design.

“hey pony, can you do something for me?” you asked, craning your head to look back at your boyfriend who was laying down with a book in his hands, as usual.

“yeah sure, what is it?” he said, his head bobbing from the movement of mouth moving while his chin was on his chest.

all you did was hand him a pencil and throw him a sheepish smile, cocking your head. “what?” he asked, setting the book down and taking the pencil. “what do you want me to do with this?” he asked.

“need you to draw somethin’ for me hun.” you turn to his desk, opening one of its drawers and finding a blank sketchbook before unceremoniously tossing it to him.

“what do i draw?”

“anything.”

“well cant you—,” he paused, taking a second to look at you batting your eyelashes and pouting at him, “—fine.” he mutters, leaning over the book and sketching away.

you smiled brightly, watching him work. he glanced up at you, unable to hold back a small smile himself. because even if you didn’t realize it, he knew that you had him wrapped about your finger.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you had met up with JOHNNY in the lot again, him still frazzled about his home life. it was getting too much at this point, and all he wanted to do was seek comfort in you.

you held him as his shoulder shook with silent sobs, his hand covering his mouth in order to muffle most of them, but your heart still broke as one or two came through.

“i just—,” another cry, “i just can’t anymore.” he said. johnny’s arm were wrapped around you tightly, like you’d let go at any moment and leave him.

your hand rubbed his back soothingly, occasionally coming up to his head and cradling it as if he was a baby. until he cried himself out.

after a while, you both ended up on your backs just facing the stars. you talked about stuff, dreams of moving away from tulsa or a better life. but then you remembered something.

“oh! shit..” you mumbled, sitting upright and reaching over for your bag. johnny sat up onto his elbow, looking at you in confusion. you rummaged through your bag, tongue slightly sticking out of your mouth in focus before you finally found it with a little ‘aha!’ leaving your lips.

“what’s that?” he asked, watching you pull out a knitted sweater.

“it’s a sweater i made for you.” you shuffled over and handed it to him, neatly folded and smelling pretty like your house.

“if you don’t like it—“

“no.” said johnny. “i like it.” he looked up at you. god, he looked perfect. the moonlight hitting his face just right, giving him a blue hue where the light shined on him and his hair.

you did what any reasonable person would be. you grabbed johnny’s face, giving him enough space to pull away, and leaned in to kiss johnny under the moonlight.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you had spent all night working on this sweater for DALLAS. you were sat at your desk with only a small dull lamp illuminating your work for you. your hands were starting to shake and you growing antsy with how long you were sat for.

dallas, as per usual, was bumming it at your house. he was next to you, laying on your bed arrogantly with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and an arm behind his head.

dally watched you work, his head turned slightly where he could watch you and look around the rest of the room from his peripheral. the way you were just so focused was satisfying to him.

you tapped your foot, you wanted to take a break and lay with dallas but you knew that if you didn’t continue with the sweater, you wouldn’t wanna do it later.

finally, you sighed and smile, holding up the sweater so dally could see.

“y’know i’m not gonna wear that, right?” he said, in the middle of trying to blow a smoke ring.

you just hummed, attention mostly on putting all your supplies away instead.

“yeah you will. i know you will.”

“and how d’ya know that?” he said, turning his head all the way in your direction.

“because i speak dallas winston.” and to that, dallas scoffed and looked away, because he knew it too. he’d wear that sweater in private, but he’d never admit to anybody.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

TWO-BIT took another swig of his booze, watching mickey mouse on television. the grainy audio traveling to the hallway where you were walking into the living room from.

“hey, look at this.” you told him, sliding up next to him on the couch. he looked at you for moment, alternating between watching the tv and you.

you showed him the crocheted sweater, hoping he would like it. his eyes were glued to your tv for a while, before you nudged him in his ribs. he shifted away and giggled a little bit, before looking down at the sweater, his lips parting in shock.

“oh m’glory baby, this is amazin’.” he slurred, taking it into his own hands and staring at it, setting down his bottle.

you leaned forward and looked at how many bottles were on the ground.

“how many drinks have you had?—“

“nevermind that! i’m looking at a masterpiece darlin’..” he said, you didn’t miss how his voice broke a little at the end.

“are you cryin’, keith?” you chuckled, putting your hand on his shoulder. he must’ve gotten a bit emotional with how many drinks he’s had.

“no! i’m just—..” he hunched over and and buried his face into the sweater, taking in the scent of your lotion faint on the yarn.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“awh, hell naw! i’m not wearin’ that!”

“yes you are! get over ‘ere!” you yelled, running after STEVE with the sweater in your hands.

he scurried away, sliding around all the hallways in order to get away from you. you two both laughed as you tried to catch him, and finally you had him cornered.

he was stuck in the corner of your room, eyes darting for any possible way out. you carefully stepped towards him, holding the sweater up by its neck. “nowhere else to go, baby. it’s time.” you grinned, before running at him.

but before you could grab him, steve charged and picked up up, throwing you onto the bed.

you squealed as he blew raspberries in your neck, laughing loudly along with you too.

“just—! just put the goddamn sweater on, will you?” you asked, trying to get through one sentence without giggling. steve held his face in your neck as he thought for a sec.

“can i get a kiss in return?” he lifted his head to look at you, flashing you those beady brown eyes and batting his eyelashes dramatically.

you placed a quick peck on his lips and did your best to push him off of you, throwing the sweater so it’d land on his face. “now put it on.” you laughed softly, and with that laugh, steve would’ve done anything.

when soda came over later that day though, he definitely took notice.

“wow steve, very fashionable today.”

“shut th’fuck up, man!”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ eeek!!! sorry this took so long, all the of gang hcs take me a bit, love :( but i like how this turned out! sorry that sodapop was the only one that didn’t involve a sweater, i just thought it’d be a cute idea 😭🫶

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[ferrstappen]

hey bubs, dunno if your taking requests still but I was wondering if you could write dad!Max taking his kids to a theme park for the first time, maybe Disney?

Thank you in advance

Disney World Break (Max Verstappen x fem reader

Max insisted, like really insisted on taking the kids to Disney World, you were already in Miami and a flight to Orlando would be short forty-five minutes.

You, on the other hand, weren’t so thrilled about the idea of taking two four-year-old to a theme park, walking under the humid sun for hours, packed with people from all over the world who could recognize your very famous husband.

The twins, Luca and Mila, both carbon copies of their father, pleaded you to go during the entire flight from Azerbaijan to Florida, encouraged by their father.

“Max, they’re too young to go, they’ll last two hours, tops” You told him as the twins were sleeping, cuddling each other.

“We can take breaks or whatever, we’ll take one of those VIP tours so we can skip lines,” Max hummed at the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair while his head rested on your lap.

Something flashed as you looked at him, always acting like a child outside the track, maybe because he was trying to connect with his inner child, and it all made sense. “Baby, have you ever been to Disney World?”

Blue eyes made contact with yours, his hands finding their home on your thigh. “No, not in Orlando at least. Mum and dad took a Victoria and I to Disneyland in France, but I don’t remember much”

Those words were enough to make you close your eyes and take a deep breath, knowing both Max and you were going to regret this, but it was going to be another adventure for your books. “Ok, baby. We are going to Disney world. You better book that VIP shot soon, and of course we’re going to Magic Kingdom.”

Fast forward two days and you were on the entrance of the park, Max helping Luca to choose his first ears, all while carrying Mila on his arms and telling her to choose whatever she wanted.

“Those ears look really great on you, my love.” You knelt in front of your son, fixing his hair so it wouldn’t look messy.

Just as you were speaking with your private tour guide, Max walked next to you, placing his hand on your waist and gently squeezing it to catch your attention.

“Put them on, liefde.” Max placed a pair of classic Minnie ears, as he adjusted his own Mickey hat.

It seemed like you were not only in charge of your twins, somewhere along the way after riding the Jungle Cruise, your husband started taking Luca and Mila to every shop, money not being an issue as the twins overindulged in merch and sweets.

“What do you think about going to the teacups next?” Max asked Mila, who was on his shoulders.

“Daddy, I’m tired.” Mila complained.

The whispered I told you so didn’t pass unnoticed by Max, who playfully placed his hand very near your ass.

“Max! It’s full of children here, have some respect!” You laughed, placing a kiss on his chin, only to be interrupted.

“Eww! Mama and daddy don’t!” Luca said making a disgusted expression, only to be reprimanded by his sister.

“How about we head to the castle and take our family photo?” You suggested and Max agreed, asking the guide to walk you to the best picture spot.

The sun was glowing, the four of you wearing your ears. Mila was in front of you while Luca was in front of Max who placed a hand on his shoulder and another on your ass, giving it a light squeeze just as the photographer snapped the picture.

This wasn’t a vacation, though. Just after the fireworks exploded, you were on a SUV, full of Disney World bags including multiple t-shirts, dolls, Mickey Mouse replicas, a play set of Cinderella castle driving to the airport where the jet was already waiting for the four of you.

You laughed after noticing multiple Pandora jewelry bags full of Disney charms, bracelets and earrings, even if you insisted to Max that Mila would never wear them. Max didn’t care, whatever his princess wanted, whatever his princess would get.

Max and you were still wearing your ears, staring at Mila and Luca who were both sleeping between the two of you.

“So, what do you say to a week long Disney vacation when the season’s over?” Max proposed and you giggled.

“Only if you ride all the roller coasters with them while I eat my churro” You answered and Max laughed; his gorgeous cackle which made the corner of his eyes crinkle and his mouth form the most beautiful smile before leaning to leave a kiss on your lips, careful to not disturb the twins.

“Deal”

[scurvgirl]

The Milkovich house is a disaster. Actually, disaster is an understatement. Ian always knew how the Milkoviches lived, shit he'd lived that that too for a bit. But it hits different when you're one of two people now tasked with sorting through everything.

Most of it is trash. Some of it, though, is meaningful. An even smaller portion of it is pure treasure.

Ian pulls out a picture, clearly taken years and years ago. It shows two young children, more like toddlers really, dressed up in matching costumes. A Mickey and Minnie Mouse.

"Holy shit," Ian breathes as he stares at the picture. He knows it's his husband but he has to be sure. He flips the picture over and in neat, blue ink reads "Mickey and Mandy, Halloween 1997". He can barely process it. Little Mickey. Little Mickey dressed as Mickey Mouse. He flips the picture over again to stare at how adorable his best friend and husband were when they were little. Mickey is smiling in the photo, a big open mouthed smile, maybe even mid laugh. Adorable. Precious.

"Hey, whatcha got there?" Mickey's voice cuts through Ian's thoughts. Oh no, Mickey shouldn't see this. But also....

"Just a picture of you and Mandy." He tries to deflect, but Mickey's quick. He darts to Ian's side and snags a peak of the picture before Ian can hide it.

He expects curses, eye rolls, maybe a hand to snatch it from Ian. What he did not expect is how Mickey goes still then looks away.

"Throw it away."

"Mick-

"Throw it away! My...my mom took that. Before she...look, just throw that shit away." Mickey picks up a beyond-repair shirt and stuffs it into a 'throw away' trash bag. He stomps off into the house, leaving Ian alone with the picture.

He looks down at little smiling Mickey and Mandy. He can't throw this away, he can't just toss whatever evidence that some parts of Mickey's childhood weren't all bad. He tucks the picture into his coat and continues to sort through the mess.

__

Much, much later, they're home. They shower together for quickness and it really is quick (okay, there is some groping) before falling into bed together. Fuck clothes, they're married and at this point, everyone in the house has seen them.

Ian turns to Mickey and tentatively places his hand over his husband's. Mickey accepts it, a finger worries at Ian's wedding band.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Shit, Ian, when do I ever want to talk about it?"

There's a long pause before Mickey presses his free hand to his eyes. "I dunno, man, it's just...I'm a fucking orphan. Terry was fucked up and terrible and I wanted to kill him, should have killed him, but he was...fuck. I dunno. I dunno all this feeling shit is just fucked."

Ian doesn't respond verbally right away, instead he scoots over and gently coaxes Mickey into his arms. Mickey allows it, his head coming to rest on Ian's pec while Ian holds his hand.

"I fucking hate him. He taught me how to shoot, how to hotwire a car. I hate him and he's gone. He...he hurt you."

"This isn't about me," Ian whispers, giving Mickey a squeeze.

"It is cuz I'd be...I'd be in jail right now because I'd have killed that stupid fucking nun by now if it wasn't because of your stupid ginger ass."

Ian pauses, listens to Mickey's breath hitch, feels wetness not from their shower on his chest.

"Do you want to kill her?" Ian asks softly after a while.

"No."

Oh so gently, Ian cups Mickey's jaw and tilts his reddened, tear streaked face up.

"I'm sorry you're hurting, baby, and I am not sorry he's gone. He hurt you and he can't do that anymore." Ian presses a kiss to Mickey's forehead.

Mickey doesn't say much more, either from exhaustion or not wanting to talk about it anymore. Either way, Ian holds him and he doesn't pull away.

"That picture you found was the best day of my life before you. Mom dressed Mandy and I up, we went trick'or'treating, ate so much fucking candy. Then she had to fucking die." Mickey sniffles and Ian holds him closer.

"So stupid, dressed up as that damn mouse."

"You were cute," Ian cuts in because he can't help himself, "you're still cute."

"Sap." Mickey pushes Ian without any real force, making them both smile.

"Yeah, I...have a confession, Mick."

"Fuck, what?"

"I didn't throw the pic away."

Mickey doesn't respond right away, just runs a finger along Ian's chest, fidgeting with some of his chest hair.

"Good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

__

They're back at the house the next day. More trash. More hateful messages and books and shit that Ian would like to forget.

In the end, it's Mickey who finds it. He walks out of one of the smaller bedrooms holding a short, black book. He's staring at it like it's some foreign object or a bomb about to go off. Ian is by his side in a moment.

The book's label is written in that same neat script as the picture - "Mickey and Mandy Growing Up".

"It's a photo album," Ian whispers.

"Yep." Mickey's eyes don't move away from it. His body is still.

Ian places a hand on Mickey's shoulder, "You don't have to open it here, or even today or tomorrow. Let's pack it and when you're ready, we can look at it. Together." Finally Mickey moves. He nods his head and gives the album to Ian.

"Keep it with the picture."

Ian takes the album then leans forward to press a kiss to his brave, emotional, incredible husband. His husband who has the chance to be as happy as the little boy in the picture.

[opencharacters]

Get your Union Mick t-shirts

[ID: A T shirt preview of a black shirt showing the Steamboat Willie of Mickey Mouse at the wheel of the boat, saying, "Unions benefit us all! Corporations rob us more than any thief.". Mickey, the wheel, and speech bubble are in black and white, the background is a rough, abstract gradient of green, blue, and brown. End ID.]

People seemed to want this design on a shirt. So I opened up a store, you can find it here. You can also get this as a sticker. More designs coming soon, even commissioned an artist to make a special shirt celebrating the public domain that I think y'all will like.

Buy it here

[watermelonlovershigh]

Baby Harry is so . . . 🥹

the little gloves, the pacifier, the hat > 🥹

the little stuffed dog > 🥹

the tiny hand feeding him his snack > 🥹

the hat > 🥹

the big eyes and bald head > 🥹

the baby food on his face, the blue eyes > 🥹

the raised hand > 🥹

lil vamprry > 🥹

the blond hair and mickey mouse shirt > 🥹

the little hands on his cheeks > 🥹

(all photos can be found on my pintrest at tori_zzz)

[sailor-aviator]

SORRY I’M LATE, I was searching for my bunny slippers and it’s dark here in your walls and none of these termites can hold a flashlight for SHIT

I wanna start with a drabble request (bc of course) for DHTN (bc OF COURSE) and I want Jake’s POV of the arrest bc we don’t actually know how that went down and I just know his thought process as he realizes he’s going to be taken away from Scout is gonna BREAK me. Also did he see Isaac as he was being led out of the saloon?????? SO MANY QUESTIONS, but hey we’re here for the weekend~

CONGRATS AGAIN ON 500 FOLLOWERS, LIZ!!! I love you so so much and I’m so proud of you!!! It’s such an honor and pleasure to be your friend 🥺❤️

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH RUTHIE. I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE MY FRIEND AND THAT I'M HOLDING YOU HOSTAGE TO WHERE YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO MY IDEAS FOR DIFFERENT FICS.

Of all the posse members, Bob was the last person Jake would have guessed to go starting fights. Though, start was probably not the correct word to use in this case. From what Bradley had told him, a group of men had been making comments about Bunny. Something about her past in New Orleans, and the bespectacled man had not cared for their choice of words. At all.

Bradley and Jake had just arrived outside the saloon when all hell broke loose. Jake watched as Bob reared his fist back, sending it flying forward into an older man's nose. A sickening crunch sounded throughout the street, and he was scrambling forward just as the rival posse launched towards his friends.

Fists were flying everywhere, and Jake heard a woman scream as he elbowed his way through the frenzy. His heart was beating a mile a minute as his eyes landed on Javy, who was grappling with another man. Jake ran up, shoving the man before grabbing Javy's arm and dragging him towards the sidelines.

"Grab the others," he ordered, eyes darting around as he spotted Bradley already grabbing for Mickey. "Help Rooster, and get everyone out of here as fast you can, got it?"

"What are you going to do?" Javy shouted, struggling to be heard over the noise of other men joining in. Jake shook his head.

"Don't worry about me. Now go!"

He shoved Javy back towards the fray, eyes scanning the streets when he spotted Ice making his way towards the chaos, a dark haired man at his side. He searched frantically for Bradley, eyes spotting the brunette before jogging towards him.

"Get the others out of here," he told him, eyes still on the two approaching figures. "No reason for all of us to get caught."

Bradley followed his line of sight, a frown tugging at his lips when he saw the approaching U.S. marshal.

"Jake," he started, but the blond shook his head.

"There's no time," he shouted, seeing Javy lead Bob and Reuben towards the back of the saloon, brown eyes starting at him worriedly. "Grab Bob and go."

Bradley pressed his lips into a thin line before grabbing the back of Bob's shirt, hauling the bespectacled man away from the fight.

Jake stood in the middle of the chaos, watching different men fight each other. He wasn't even sure who some of these men were, but more than likely they were just men taking advantage to settle old scores.

He knew he couldn't just leave, not after it was one of his friends who started the fight in the first place. They'd come after all of them then. No, Jake would stay to give his friends a chance to flee. They'd figure something out. They always had before.

Jake's green eyes met black ones as a gunshot rang out, and a stillness washed over the street, so quiet you could hear a church mouse squeak. He focused on the devious smile that adorned Isaac's face, smug satisfaction seeping through every pore as the two men stared at each other. Jake's jaw clenched. Of course. Of course this had all been a trap.

Jake turned to watch Ice lower his pistol, holstering it back at his side as his gaze drifted over the crowd, blue eyes settling on him. He could practically hear the sharp inhale Ice gave as he looked at the younger man. He blinked before looking away.

"What seems to be the commotion?" He asked, frowning at the rest of the men gathered.

"It was the Dagger Posse!" Someone shouted, no doubt one of Isaac's lackeys. "They're the ones that started the fight! One of them is standing right there!"

Jake's shoulders stiffened as all eyes turned to him, including that of U.S. Marshal Simpson. A cry rang out amongst the crowd at the accusation, but the damage had already been done. Simpson casted an indecipherable look before making his way towards Jake.

"No, it wasn't the Daggers!" Someone else shouted. "The Hunter Posse is the one that started all this!"

"Say that again, and you're a dead man."

"It was those no good, spineless cowards in the Hun-"

"Quiet, Hanson," Ice snapped, never taking his eyes off of where Simpson stood in front of Jake. "Don't need to add your sorry ass to my list of problems right now."

Jake squared his shoulders. He knew he was caught, but like hell he was going down without putting up even the illusion of a fight. He swung his fist out, just clumsily enough for the marshal to dodge it, gripping his arm and slamming him up against the wall of the saloon. Jake winced as his arms were forced back, cuffs clicking around his wrists. Simpson grabbed him by the collar, hauling him back so hard that Jake stumbled slightly.

"Is this all really necessary?" He drawled, earning a scowl from the dark haired man.

"Yes," Simpson snapped, pushing Jake forward as they began to walk. Jake's eyes scanned the crowd for any sign of his friends. If they were smart, they'd be long gone from the scene. What he wasn't expecting to see, was you standing at the front of the crowd, eyes wide and shining with unshed tears as you watched him.

He felt his heart crack at the sight. He didn't want this. He didn't want to be the reason you cried, and you had cried more than enough over him to last a life time. He just got you back, and now you had to see him like this. Chained like a dog and paraded down the street. He stopped in front of you, trying and failing to jerk his arm out of Simpson's hold.

"Hey, sweet girl," he cooed. He cast a glance back at the marshal, who eyed the two of you wearily. "Everything is going to be alright, yeah? Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll be out as a free man before you know it."

“You shouldn’t lie to her, Hangman,” Simpson said, casting you a sympathetic look. “We all know that this is the end of the line for you.”

Jake frowned. He wanted to argue, he really did. But, just as he opened his mouth to do so, Simpson pushed him forward once more, ending the conversation. Jake supposed Simpson was trying to do you a favor in his mind, saving you from what the marshal surmised were empty promises from the captured outlaw.

He cast one last look over his shoulder at you, committing you to memory. As if he could forget. He offered you a tight-lipped smile before Ice slammed the door behind him, cutting him off from the outside world.

[tyforthevnm]

The Father and the Frontman: Frank Iero Gets Tattooed for his Kids

April 9th, 2015 Derek Scancarelli Link to article

Under The Gun Review met with Frank Iero at Greenpoint Tattoo Company in Brooklyn to talk about his life’s new chapter and his undying devotion to being a father, all while watching him get inked.

Frank Iero’s confidence is a put-on. I know that because he told me so.

He loves to play as much as he hates to play. The 45 minutes of ecstasy he experiences on stage is the pendulum swing counteracting the 24 hours of pure hell leading up to it.

“I’ll be fucking holding, clenching my stomach, totally fucking hating my life because I have to get up there and play,” 33-year-old Iero said. But five minutes into his set, he finds himself in a state of glory.

When My Chemical Romance toured the world, Frank Iero played guitar and sang back-up vocals. Now, he’s taken center stage as frontman of his newest project, frnkiero and the cellabration. In August, he released his debut album, Stomachaches. Last week, the band wrapped up its first headlining tour.

Rather than playing at Madison Square Garden, he’s back to playing 300-capacity rooms in cities like Boise, ID. Those are the kind of places in which he feels at home. Well, the closest he gets to home when he’s so far away from it.

Last Wednesday, I caught up with Frank at a tattoo shop in Williamsburg before his show at Saint Vitus. He said the tour was a total success, but he couldn’t stand to spend another night away from his wife and children. The night prior, he’d traveled home from Philly to Jersey just to see them in the morning. He squeezed in a few hours of sleep before he brought his kids to school and swim class. Finally, he made it back to New York in time for the show.

When Frank entered the parlor, he told me that he was opting to go for two small pieces. The first was a set of roman numerals on his neck; dates documenting the births of his 5-year-old twin daughters and his 3-year-old son. The second was a tiny but meaningful piece on his shin.

“I’m getting a noodle because my little girl Cherry told me that she wanted to get tattooed,” Iero said, sporting a Mickey Mouse hoodie. “I said, ‘Well, I think that’s a terrible idea! But, what do you want to get?’ She said, ‘I want to get noodles!’ And I thought, ‘well that’s kind of an awesome tattoo.’”

The process of figuring out the proper way to tattoo a piece of pasta proved to be more difficult than you’d imagine. After contemplating some squiggly strands of spaghetti, Frank decided a single macaroni would do the trick. Plus, his daughters love Mac & Cheese. It was positioned strategically by his Jordan Jumpman logo and his homage to Metallica’s Kill ‘Em All. After all, he says his body is just a flesh-covered suitcase with stickers all over it.

Many of those stickers were slapped on while touring, a part of life that has become more difficult since becoming a father. For Frank, the modern virtual realities that easily connect us make his distance feel more apparent.

I asked him if his kids were noticing the separation, to which he immediately answered “yes.” I then asked if that drove him crazy, to which he replied, “Absolutely.”

For that reason, he cherishes every moment he gets with his kids.

“I tend to interview them a lot,” he said. “I like these moments. The other day we were talking about colors, so I said, ‘Yo, what’s your favorite color?’”

It turns out his son Miles likes green, but when he’s sick he likes red. He also enjoys yellow. His daughter Lily likes pink, but she’s been feeling more purple lately. Cherry, the noodle tattoo enthusiast, said she loves nothing.

Frank laughed and told me he related to ‘nothing’ the most, but even as an adult he can still feel in colors. He’s had some art pieces that have felt really brown. As a kid he loved black, which may explain his unaccountable love for the Oakland Raiders and Pittsburgh Steelers.

“What I love about this parenthood thing is that, before they’re tainted by the outside world, there is this innate weirdness that’s only in them,” he said. “It’s very pure and it’s very fleeting, and if you’re not paying attention you can miss it, and I don’t want to miss it.”

For most people, small moments like discussing colors may seem insignificant or forgettable. For Frank, it’s different. His children bring out the kid in him, the one that he’s unsure he ever really lost. He sees the honesty and curiosity that disappears after a life of having opinions shoved down your throat and being told how to act and feel.

The conversation shifted gears when I mentioned the “Religious Freedom Restoration Act,” a bill signed into law in Indiana that many Americans feel gives out a license for discrimination towards the LGBTQ community.

“With all the heartache and things we go through on a daily basis,” Frank said, shaking his head, “denying other people happiness, is it just like- an innate human characteristic?”

We postulate that hate is trained, but that selfishness is natural. You know, the whole Darwinism thing. But regardless of whatever characteristics we’re born with, guidance has to be the key factor.

“When it comes to seeking compassion- it’s a bit hard to just be born with empathy. I think that’s learned,” he said. “And I don’t think that’s a terrible thing. It’s great that it can be learned, and it needs to be, and it needs to be instilled.”

I’d only spent an hour or two with Frank, but I could tell that he experiences emotions strongly, even in the mildest of interactions. He’s humble and exudes a charm that makes you want to be his friend.

I’m not convinced his confidence is fake, I think it’s just on a never-ending learning curve.

Before Iero dropped Stomachaches, he was convinced he was done with touring. He was ready to write a novel, take pictures, and maybe go to school.

But he got pulled back in. Now, he’s playing shows where he can once again look at fans in the eyes. For him, it’s both heart-warming and earth-shattering. He still hasn’t fully come to grips with the press attention.

“I guess it ties into being a frontman. I never wanted that. It was never something I saw myself wanting to do. I liked being a guitar player, hidden in the wings and getting to play the shows and not being the one that had to talk to anybody,” he said.

When it comes to facing the camera, he finds it just as daunting and superficial.

“Nobody wants you to be yourself,” he said, speaking about magazine photoshoots. “It’s like, ‘Oh, I want you to ride this llama and then fucking break a window, and you know, scream at this baby!’ Like, why would I ever do any of that?”

Aside from fatherhood and fronting a band, we discussed some of the weight of being such a heavily adored and emotionally praised musician. For fans of his music, whether it be the tunes of MCR or the cellabration, it serves as much more than background noise. It speaks to them on a personal level.

I brought up a recent article called I Found Hope At A Frank Iero Show. It was penned by Cassie Whitt at AltPress, someone who I’ve had the privilege of working with a few times now. I asked Frank how it feels to read a piece like this, and if there is any pressure or responsibility associated with making music that people use to help them through their struggles. I don’t know how I’d handle it.

“I felt very flattered that I was even included in that. It ties into a lot of kids that have come to shows and given me or my bands a little too much credit for their own strength,” he said. “I feel like that was all on her, you just need a welcoming environment. I think she wrote an amazing article, and she’s a very talented girl, and I think she should give herself a bit more credit.”

For Iero, there are two factions of interactions he has with his listeners. There are the kids who want a simple photo or an autograph, then there are others he’s impacted in a very serious way.

“They’ll say things like, ‘You saved my life,’ and my response is that we may have inspired you, and maybe empowered you, but I’m saying, kinda meet me halfway on it – yeah you did take control of your own life, we were just the soundtrack.”

Generally speaking, he doesn’t want to preach too hard at his shows. But he does want two simple things to be taken away from his listeners: A) they should always give a fuck and B) they should always unapologetically be themselves.

“Whatever it is that you feel inside, be proud of it, and fucking do it to the best of your ability and don’t ever apologize for being you,” he said. “Just be the best you can be. And if you can do that, fuck, man, I think we’ll be all right.”

Written and photographed by Derek Scancarelli Guest contribution by Joseph Altobelli Special thanks to Greenpoint Tattoo Company

[callmeblake]

Taken in portland.

sweater pic of Frank from June 9th, 2018

[wannaseewhatshangin]

❝I watched you change.❞ ❝I could be mean. I could be angry. You know I could be just like you.❞

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏✪✭✪﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏✪✭✪﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem! Reader

Summary:After Dallas criticizing the reader's ways after thinking she was flirting with a Two-Bit, she decided to change.

Trope: Enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, Smoking, Dallas being a cute idiot. <3

Songs: Change - Deftones, Just like you - Three Days Grace

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏✪✭✪﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏✪✭✪﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You walked into the Curtis house, in a really good mood.

"Good morning! What's up?" you said with a bright smile as you shut the door behind you.

Everyone greeted you- well, some more bitter than others.

"Can you just shut up for once? And what the hell are you wearing? That band sucks." He said pointing to your cropped band t-shirt and your ripped baggy jeans in disgust before taking a puff of his cigarette.

"Oh. Sorry, I just woke up in a good mood I guess. Felt like wearing it. And you listen to the same band, Dally." You said, your attitude going from happy to sad real quick.

You were very sensitive and was very sweet to everyone. You didn't understand why he was being so mean to you.

"Dally, what is your problem? She's being nice to you and you're being a major dick." Johnny said.

Johnny never talked to his idol like that.

"She's being annoying, alright? So why don't you just shut up Johnny."

"Alright. I'll see you guys tomorrow. Bye Johnny." You walked out the house and didn't come back for the rest of the day.

"Fine then. Little bitch." He muttered under his breath as he watched you leave, covering up his regret.

"What's up with you, man? Why'd you talk to her like that?" Two-Bit said to his buddy, looking away from his show of Mickey Mouse for the first time. But he couldn't help but listen to the conversation between his two friends.

"Wouldn't you like to know, lover boy. Don't worry about it-"

"No I'm gonna worry about it. Y/N ain't did nothin' wrong since she got here and you're treating her like crap. You need to apologize, Dal."

"Yeah. I ain't gotta do shit."

°.✩┈┈∘*┈˃̶୨୧˂̶┈*∘┈┈✩.°°.✩┈┈∘*┈˃̶୨୧˂̶┈*∘┈┈✩.°

It was the next day. And instead of wearing your favorite band, you just wore a regular plain blue T-shirt and sweatpants.

Dallas walked in the Curtis house to see you smoking with Johnny and Ponyboy, laughing at Pony's joke about some girl at school.

"Oh my lord! She does walk like that-" You cut yourself off at the sight of Dallas' figure walking through the door.

You blew a puff of smoke, looking away from him.

He sat on the couch, looking at you from a distance.

"Got something to say, Dal? Hm?" You sassed, rolling your eyes before looking at Johnny and Ponyboy.

"What's your problem?" He said, seeming he has forgotten everything from yesterday.

"Oh I'm sorry. I guess I'm still being annoying since you still managed to notice me sitting right here." You said with sarcasm in your voice.

He looked at you, realizing.

"Since when did you smoke?" He said, grabbing the cigarette from your mouth.

"Since I was being annoying. I just thought I'd act just like you. Because you seem to love yourself a lot. You just can't get enough of yourself. You are a selfish person who I thought was my friend. I hate you, Dally." You got up, slamming the door behind you.

He stayed there for a minute, a pain in his chest soon spreading to his brain and the rest of his body.

"Dally, Go." Johnny said, pointing to the direction your went.

He though for a minute, walking out the door to see you on the porch.

"Hey, Doll." He sat down beside you on the steps.

"What do you want."

"Okay don't start your moody shit right now. If you're gonna start that, go flirt with Two-Bit some more." He said, looking at you with anger, also a hint of sadness.

"What?! Dal, you can't be serious right now. I don't think of Two like that and you know it."

"Oh yeah? Then why were you talkin' to him all cutesy at the drive in yesterday morning? Huh?"

"Well if you have to know, he was helping me get a gift for you. I was gonna tell you something but you started being a jerk. So I left." You said, handing him a customized lighter.

He held it in his hands, staring at the designs of the flowers and the skulls.

"Doll, I'm so sorry."

Dallas Winston felt terrible. He got it all wrong and made you feel bad for absolutely nothing.

"It's alright. I just hope we're at least friends again." You said with hope lacing your voice as you looked at him.

"Actually, I was hoping for something different.."

"Look, Dal. I didn't mean to be annoying yesterday. I was in a good mo-"

"Doll, it's fine. You're not annoying. I'm just a major asshole. Forgive me?" He smiled, grabbing your hand gently.

You nodded, squeezing his hand slightly, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

[rjalker]

Ok it should be it for the rest of the art I keep forgetting to post after I finish it.

Image descriptions will be added tomorrow My hand hurts bye-bye for real now.

The first two are bases I encourage you to download and use to design your own version of Mickey Mouse. Is the perfectly drawn hand to trace if you want lol

And then my version of Mickey on the meme I made. My Mickey uses xal/xalv/xallix/xalexir pronouns.

[ID: Five images, all digital drawings. The first is a simple, symetrical sillowet with an oval shaped body, a round head, and two small round ears. The second is a more detailed version with a more oval shaped face, with eyes, muzzle, nose, and mouth drawn in. This version has stick arms and legs. The third is a close up of a simply drawn hand with four fingers, with the lineart in part black, dark blue, and brown. The fourth is black and white lineart of a cartoon mouse wearing a beret, a striped suit jacket over long pants with suspenders, boots, and a shirt with repeating diamonds-inside diamonds pattern. The character's tail is crimped into a heart shape at the end. The last is a version of the no / yes meme format showing two versions of Mickey Mouse in an original design, in poses from Steamboat Willie. This version of Mickey has black fur, a brown face and tail, glasses, and monochrome blue clothes, with darker blue shorts and cuffs on the gloves, and lighter blue suspenders, gloves, boots, and a band to hold on xallix glasses. The suspenders have two blank pin buttons visible, one a triangle and the other a circle. For the “no” section, xal looks at the ground dejectedly. For the “yes” example,“ xal leaps into the air with joy, revealing buck teeth to match real rodents. The no section reads, in quotation marks, "You can only use the version of Mickey Mouse in Steamboat Willie!”, followed by, in parentheses, “(Extremely misleading, making it seem like the Public Domain demands stagnation and kills creativity)”. The yes section reads, in quotation marks, “You can redesign Mickey Mouse in any style or outfit you like as long as it’s not a version still owned by Disney’s copyright”, followed by in parentheses, “(Actually explains the rule, lets people unleash their creativity.)”.

End ID.]

[fandoms--fluff]

Hi I’m this my first thing I’m doing on here but anyway could you do little fem reader x mama Nat x mommy wanda where all of the team has gone a mission and the villain brings something up about our pass and then our powers get out of control and we go into our little space and m..maybe go for Wanda’s milkes 👉🏼👈🏼 you don’t have too but if you can thank you

We're here baby

Little!Reader x Mama!Nat x Mommy!Wanda

Summary: everything in the request

Warnings: swearing, mention of blood, breastfeeding, death?

a/n: I'm getting back into writing so expect more fics

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You guys are currently facing a group of assassins from Bulgaria in their compound. You are in one of the many hallways fighting a man twice your size. Your currently trying to take him out with your dark green glowing power until he started speaking.

"Сега да/не, не помниш ли цялото забавление, което се забавляваш тук? Винаги вързани на една от онези метални маси с вериги или висящи от тавана със същите вериги? Защото със сигурност го правя, беше толкова жалко, ти крещиш за цял живот." (Now y/n don't you remember all the fun you had here? Always tied on one of those metal table with chains or hanging from the ceiling also with chains? Becuase I certainly do it was so pathetic, you screaming for life).

At that you started to freak out, getting flashbacks from the time you were with them against your will. You couldn't breathe right, mind fogging up and starting to slip into little space.

"y/n?" Nat asked through comms.

You started to sob and couldn't control your powers. Glowing green swirls coming out of your hands and more of the guards or assassins - doesn't matter, came running towards you. No one there you recognized and started to freak out more.

"y/n? Baby girl what's happening. Are you okay?" Wanda asked, concerned.

Wanda looked over to Nat who was next to her and they started to run towards you since your sobbing was getting more clear the closer they got.

Right before they got to you a blast of flowing green power came from the hallway, everyone falling down. Dead. Blood scattered all over. Quickly they ran faster to see you on the ground, leaning against the wall with your legs tucked into your chest, tears running down your face and entire body shaking.

"What's happening Nat?" Tony said through comms.

"Shut the fuck up" Nat whispered fast back back him through comms, him immediately listening not wanting to come to face with 'angry momma Nat' as he called it.

They made their way towards you and each of them sat on one side of you. "Hunny, you can open your eyes" Nat said softly and wiped the tears of your face.

Slowly you opened your eyes and looked at Nat and Wanda, them seeing the change in your eyes how your in little space right now.

"Mama, Mommy. Huwrt" you cried out and then saw all the dead bodies around you, starting to hyperventilate again.

"Let's leave and then we can go home and have a relaxing night" Wanda whispered into your ear, though Nat can hear her just fine.

You slowly nodded and started to stand up with them, clinging to your Mama's side, barely able to walk, with how much your body is still shaking from being remembered about your past.

Once all three of you were sat in the quinjet, it was very quiet with you inbetween Wanda and Nat, snuggled with a blanket. Tears were still streaming down your face. Nobody dared talking so they didn't send you into a meltdown.

The quinjet finally landed and Nat slowly lifted you up to her hip and carried you inside while Wanda walked beside. When you got to your guys' shared room, your Mama set you down on the bed and quickly got changed into a cotton grey t-shirt and matching shorts. And your Mommy also quickly changed into the same set, but in a deep blue. She also grabbed a soft green hoodie and a Mickey Mouse pull up from the dresser, placing them beside where you're laying down.

"Alright, let's get you changed out of this uncomfortable suit" she said comfortingly while stripping you out of it.

While she's changing you, you lifted your hands up and pulled a small section of your hair down. Playing with it by twirling it around your fingers.

Wanda finished and stepped away for a second to place your suit in the pile where her and Nat's are on the floor in the corner of the room to be dealt with tomorrow.

Nat came over from the bathroom and sat down beside you, helping you untangle the fingers caught in your hair.

"You comfy baby?" She asked once all three of you are laying under the covers in bed.

You nodded, sleepily but still wanted one thing. "Mommy, milk? Pease" you mumbled looking over at Wanda with puppy dog eyes.

"Now how could I say no to that adorable face" she smiled and pulled up her shirt, revealing her breasts.

You leaned against her and attached your mouth to her left nipple, suckling at a slower pace than usual but that's just because you're tuckered out from today. After a bit of time you fell asleep with your head pillowed on her now covered boob, since Nat carefully lifted your head not waking you up while Wanda pulled her shirt back down.

Before they followed and fell asleep, they leaned over carefully and kissed softly.