#not shifty just cool

[shiftythrifting]

Vintage phone booth w/fancy iris windows

Ohio Valley Antique Mall

[raddestrose]

That little Gojo Deku hybrid is a conniving one isn’t he

[k20spock]

slay the princess is so fucking good

[theradicalace]

Please elaborate on Cuddles X Shifty for us

this startled me sometimes i forget that you people read the things i say in the tags

UHHHH i just think they would have a really fun dynamic! it could work platonically or romantically tbh. they've only interacted like once in the show but that's irrelevant to me :3c

i mostly think they would enjoy a lot of the same shenanigans! i want them to graffiti the side of a building together and then run from the cops about it and then make out after they successfully evade the cops idk. i think they would just enjoy being together <:3

[toxooz]

i really wanna buy some edibles for the ✨Special Out Of Touch Thursday The 4/20th✨ tomorrow but i've never ever done weed before (despite it being completely legal in canada for like 4+ years), and i also have a heart condition so i'm pretty nervous... do you have any words of wisdom before the Big Day?

uhhhh edibles for the first time??? edibles last a fuck of a long time and every time you eat after it you get crazy high all over again so i personally would not recommend edibles for the first time lmfao esp if ur prone to getting anxious, paranoid, and delusional plus since weed opens ur blood vessels thus making your heart beat faster which could be a good or bad thing again it could backfire and make u hallucinate shit and could be stress on ur heart idk a bong rip perhaps?? blunt?? pipe?? idk man 🤷‍♀️

[oceantornadoo]

part two - outlaw!simon x reader who was supposed to marry johnny (rip)

when you wake in the morning, there is no husband in your bed and an angry sheriff at your door.

the missing husband is a later problem. you snatch your worn dressing gown from your nearby chair, shirking it on over your night shift as you head towards the door. you grab your rifle on the way, noting simon had unloaded it when you weren't paying attention. bastard.

"mornin' ma'am." sheriff graves is a sunny character on your doorstep, western sun and a shifty smile. you mutter a greeting back, wondering why in god's name he is pounding at your door when the sun has barely touched the sky. "did ya have any trouble last night? there's rumors of an outlaw group on the edge of town." you shake your head, gaze holding firm. "no, sir. woulda shot 'em if i did." he nods, then looks down at his boots. "and that husband of yours? he at home, protectin' his wife?" ah, so that's why he's here. everyone knows you are married but no one's ever met the guy, seeing as he's been journeying over mountains and grasslands to get to you. sheriff graves is well aware of your lonesome self, just you and your rifle. "he's around, sir. i'll be introducin' him to yall soon enough. 'course, we're spendin' some time together as man and wife first."

his pupils go wide at your insinuation, not ladylike in the slightest. 'course, you are a barmaid, so what's to be expected of you? "i see. well, i'll leave you to your mornin', ma'am." if he really wanted to give you your morning, he wouldn't have woken you up so early, but you weren't going to give him that much attitude. "good day, sheriff." you close the door when his boots are still in its shadow, a little too close to be polite.

"you protectin' me, darlin'?" you jump at his voice, nearly scaring you out of your gown. "good lord, give a girl some warning!" he's fully dressed, hiding in the shadows of your pantry in a full-black outfit. you take in the bandana hiding his face, the all-black chaps encasing his thick thighs, and the holsters strapped and loaded. "you're up early." he grunts, coming closer. simon checks the door lock, then pushes you up against it with his body, his arms coming to hold the wall over your head. "had t' water my horse. you miss me?" you shake your head vehemently. "you snore. you will not be gettin' in my bed again soundin' like a freight train." instead of taking offense, he laughs, all gravel in your ear. "johnny woulda loved you."

you can tell he regrets saying it the moment it leaves his lips. his body tightens, that easy flirtation dying in the wind. "you miss him?" you ask quietly, testing the lines between you. "everyday. less now, i think. got a spitfire to take care of." unwillingly you lean closer, crossing your arms over your chest. "you better be talkin' about your horse." he grumbles something unintelligible, one hand leaving the wall to ghost against your hip. you're reminded of last night, of his rough embrace and warm arms.

"hips up for me, sweetheart. there ya go." simon places a pillow underneath your hips, the angle revealing more of your cunt to him. you whine as he stares, hips bucking as if to entice him. "y'r so needy, darlin'." you moan, one leg reaching out around his waist to tug him closer. he lets out a laugh as you line up your pelvises, the rough material of his pants rubbing against your bare body.

"i've been horny. can't fuck anyone when you're married, apparently." he hums, opting to trace the line of your jaw instead of the seam of your cunt. "still, coulda been a killer, yet you opened up so easily for me." embarassment courses through your body but you refuse to feel the shame along with it. you reach out your hands to find his zipper, tugging it down when he doesn't stop you. "you're no killer. if johnny trusted you, so do i." your hand finds his cock beneath the layers of his clothes, tugging it out slowly. he hisses when it meets the cool night air, already so hard and ready to go. "don't go makin' assumptions about me, sweetheart. there's a lot you don't know."

the fear hits you for a moment. a realization that this man could be lying completely, some stranger off the street who barreled his way into your home. you search his eyes for the truth, sticking to your belief in the good in people. you find it in his gaze; he's trying to scare you. you smirk at the thought, this big tough man wanting to scare you, a lady living on her own in the wild west. takes a lot more to do that. "can i put it in?" you refuse to acknowledge what he said, gripping his cock tightly and tapping it against your opening. he's already made you come twice, once on the kitchen table and another against the door, but you still need to be full. "yeah baby, put it in."

you shake out of your daydream, noting the moving path of the sun lighting the outline of simon's body. "c'mon, i'll show you where my stable is. and then maybe, if you're good, you can come to my shift at the pub later." he snorts, one hand on your hip. the feeling of possession is alien. you've spent so many nights dreaming of johnny, dreaming of having a husband, that simon's presence feels like something you need to wake up from. he could be a figment of your imagination, you decide, watching him untie his horse from a nearby tree and bring her over. instead of walking down that mental path, you take another step towards this outlaw of a husband and try to shake off the butterflies in your stomach.

--

PART FOUR

yes he's wearing the gunslinger fit idc but with the bandana (i couldn't find a good pic)

tag list:

@chickennn-soupp

@vmaxis

@samanthamarkle92

@sinful-tawtute

@nightingale2124

@scottpilgrimvsmyfists

@saucypeanuttt

[clevercorvidae]

WAIT

the whole thing with that axolotl that fidds got ford recontextualizes EVERYTHING about how he acted about shifty if that happened beforehand oh my god. dude.

while reading journal 3 it did feel kinda odd and out of character for mcgucket to be so dismissive about what was, assumably, a pretty harmless wild animal that they were raising from birth. he just seemed so eager to get rid of him and now im realizing that it wasn't just his typical anxiety about the paranormal but also because Why TF Is Ford Treating It Like A Pet When He Just Tossed Out Frilliam?

can you imagine that? you got your partner who you think has been lonely a cool, rare pet that isnt easy to obtain whatsoever. you come home to find that said pet was unceremoniously released into the river with little to no explanation. and then suddenly hes bringing home a new animal and is acting all paternal towards it as if he didn't just toss out the pet you went out and adopted for him. thats fucked up man.

no wonder he wanted to freeze the little dude so bad. and then shifty fucking ties him up and impersonates him! like cmon! frilliam would never!

[mochinomnoms]

Not a request just a cute thought I had. I was talking to a friend about the tweels and said "I find them more cute than scary." Then I started thinking about Jade and/or Floyd overhearing MC say that like Ace and Deuce have noticed that one or both of the tweels have been hanging around with MC. Deuce and Ace say the tweels are scary but MC just days they're cute!

Depending on mood I can see Floyd either being offended or super happy! He can either start chasing MC around trying to scare them or he can give them a big squeeze and laugh about how shrimpy is cute too.

Jade I can see either walking straight up and teasing MC or sneaking away with that info in his back pocket until like a month later he's all "so you find me cute?"

Floyd for sure gets offended, he doesn't like being called cute I think. Based on his reaction on being called cute during the Port Fest event, he doesn't like to be perceived as such. Maybe cause it makes him less intimidating. So, if he's particularly fond of his shrimpy, then he might be inclined to bring them in situations that make him seem super cool and impressive, rather than cute. Like basketball games, fights, even in class when he decides to try! However, his mood is so shifty that it doesn't always guarantee a positive outcome, as you murmur about how cute he gets when he's pouty or bored. Damn this, maybe he ought to scare you instead.

Jade, on the other hand, is happy to go along with your perception of him. He thinks you're cute for thinking his just a cute little guy! How silly of you, he can't wait to take you in his arms and prove you wrong :). You're not gonna think of him as so cute when he's rearranging your—*gets shot*

[rubiehart]

when john b is wanted by the cops, leopard!reader uses her pretty privilege to get the pogues some sustenance in the form of shitty pizza.

the roughed up teens sit in the crowded truck, seats reclined to keep them out of view of any passers-by who were drooling for that reward money. the yellow-ish light coming from the ‘urban slice’ sign illuminated the side walk, casting eerie shadows across the faces of the teens and distorted reflections against the windows.

“does anyone have any more cash to contribute?” clearly irritated, pope tries again, shaking the few coins he has in the palm of his hand, giving expected looks towards everyone. the silence was all the evidence he needed and he lets out a long sigh.

“dude, i’m so hungry i could eat my own arm.” jj pipes up, throwing his head back against the seat and flopping his arm around for empasis. the girl with her head on his lap gives him a sideways look, teeth crunching down loudly on the hard candy, completely unamused by his antics.

“only time i’ll agree with jj.” kiara adds from the driver’s seat, throwing an arm over her eyes and groaning. jj scoffs. “how much you got pope?” the second girl asks, sitting up from her laying position against jj and eyeing up pope expectedly. “uh-“ he starts, jingling the coins around between his palms to count. “79 cents.” he almost winces, eyes flitting to the girls face as she throws herself back against the leather seat with a groan. “great.”

“will you all shut up, for even five seconds? please.” john b asks with his eyebrows furrowed, turning his body to face the three in the backseat, eyes trained specifically on the girl with a short temper. “acting like i can’t hear your stomach rumbling from here.” she quips back, arms crossed over her chest, an equally unamused expression on her face.

huffing impatiently, she takes one last glance at her unhelpful friends, reaching over pope to pull the handle of the door. “since none of you losers wanna help-“ she starts, climbing over pope’s stunned body and jumping down onto the pavement, her sneakers smacking the concrete. “i’ll just do this myself.”

“um- i know i’m not the plan guy but i’m not really seein’ how this is workin’ out.” john b adds from the front seat, eyeing her suspiciously through the dirty window and she rolls her eyes, a little grin gracing her lips, teeth glinting in the shifty light.

“i got this. ‘kay?” she directs the questions at everyone, but her eyes are still trained on john b’s, blinking slowly as his eyes widen ever so slightly, his whole attitude seemingly changing. “uh- yeah whatever, be safe n’ stuff.” he nods, ignoring jj’s teasing from the backseat.

she gives everyone a once over, returning kiara’s supportive thumbs up with sticking her tongue out, slamming the car door and starting towards the borderline abandoned pizzeria.

she pushes open the door, big smile on her face directed to the only person behind the counter, a boy about her age, his cheeks noticeably redden as he looks her over, he hesitantly returns a little smile as she shoves her hands into the back pockets of her shorts, back arched a little and tits pushed forward as she eyes up the menu overhead.

her eyes are big and innocent as she blinks slowly at the menu, eyes flitting to his once she’d decided. “could i please get a large pizza, deep dish.“ she starts, eyes trained on him intently as he nods, stabbing nervously at the shitty screen, attempting to take her order.

“um- what toppings?” he hiccups out, her eyes widen a little and she pouts her lips a little, looking to the side as if she was thinking. “hmm..” she mumbles, bouncing on her heels a little, boobs practically in his face as she reels of her incessant list of toppings.

“cool. uh- will that be all?” he asks, scratching behind his ear awkwardly as he tries to keep his eyes on her face. “mhm. and a strawberry milkshake, extra whipped cream.” she smiles, rapping her nails against the chipped marble counter, tips of his ears reddening as he processes the order and quickly scurries into the back without another word.

she smirks to herself, pulling out her phone and swiping onto whatever app to pass the time, elbows leaning against the counter as the guy sneaks glances at her whilst sprinkling olives onto her pizza.

sliding her order across the counter to her. “that’ll be $12.95.” he nods, and she smiles, a little too confidently for someone who currently doesn’t even have a cent to her name. “for sure.”

she reaches into her bra, purposely making a show of dipping hem of her tank down to show the lace of her bra. “oh shoot.” she whispers, theatrically patting down the rest of her pockets and sighing when she expectedly finds nothing, concealing her smirk at the way his gaze followed her hands, shamlessly taking up and down her body as she pouted.

“i must’ve forgot my purse..” she mumbles, throwing one hand down at her side, giving her best puppy eyes to the scrawny boy and he goes red, something that seemed to be routine for him. “uh, y’know what, it’s on the house. closing up this shit hole in half an hour or so anyways-“ he coughs up the excuse, clearly a lie but she was thankful anyway.

“really?” she smiles, canines gleaming as she picks up the pizza box, milkshake in the other hand, wrapping her lips around the shitty paper straw and taking an overly suggestive sip, eyes closed and fluttering as she lets out a pleasured noise.

“that’s really good.” she smiles, he’s bright red by this point and she’s feeling a little bad, although she does take pride in making perverted men uncomfortable, he seemed sweet so she left it at that. “see ya!” she turns on her heel, waving behind her as the little bell above the door chimes to signal her exit, sneakers tapping against the concrete as she slides open the truck door again, the smell of freshly baked pizza filling the senses of the starved teens.

“someone order a pizza?”

[steddielations]

It's just another boring day running the store, even more boring than normal since Robin’s out sick. There’s not any kids around either, the beanbags by the bookshelves have been empty all day.

Steve’s working his shift alone. It’s all very mundane, just waiting for the clock to run out. That is, until the door flies open.

It’s just a flash of black clothing and the clinking of metal accessories as the figure suddenly barrels right over the counter. Steve shouts and immediately reaches for the nail bat— yes the nail bat— he keeps behind the register. He brandishes it menacingly as the person stands upright.

It’s a man, with crazy wild hair and even crazier eyes, widening comically at the bat and holding his hands up. He squawks at Steve.

“Whoa, hey! What is that thing?! What the hell, man!?”

“Don’t ‘what the hell’ me, I’m the one what the helling you here!” Steve snaps back.

“What!”

“Just tell me what you think you’re doing here, punk!”

Something like disbelief comes over his face, and he lowers his hands to gesture over himself, “Dude, I’m clearly a metalhead.”

“I’m gonna put some metal in your head if you don’t start talking,” Steve snarls, gripping the bat tighter.

“Okay, okay!” His hands flail, shifty eyes bugging out the front windows before he suddenly crouches down behind the counter, “Just let me hide out here for a minute, there’s— people after me that I can’t deal with right now.”

“Oh yeah, what 'people’?” Steve narrows his eyes at the expensive looking chain dangling around his neck, some kind of red pendant on it, “Did you get caught stealing from the jewelry store next door?”

Again, he gives that look, not the typical guilty look when Steve chases down the usual petty thief, he just looks like he can’t believe he’s in this situation, as if he’s not the one that hopped over the counter.

“I didn’t steal anything, alright? I just need to wait here until it’s all clear.”

“Mr. Simon is chasing you, isn’t he?” Steve groans, lowering the bat to rub his hand over his face. He hates that old jeweler, always complaining about Steve taking his parking space when he doesn’t even have a car to use it. “Christ, okay. He might have a war flashback and actually kill you, and I already have enough shit on my conscience. You got two minutes.”

“Five?”

“One and a half.”

“Okay, Jesus. Two please and I’ll let you have a picture after, whatever you want.”

Steve thinks it’s a weird thing to offer at first, then it clicks.

“Yeah, I do want a picture ‘cause your ass is going on the banned wall,” Steve points the bat to the array of photos on the back wall, right up there with the little pricks that kept asking what shelf the skin mags were on, and the asshole that was rude to Robin once.

The guy looks over and he… chuckles, “Starting to think I picked the wrong counter to hide behind.”

Steve glares when he’s met with the stranger’s smile, “You think?”

“The rainbows in the window caught my eye, thought they were pretty cool,” he gives Steve a kind, but measured look, “I’m assuming the bat is for people who don’t?”

That rocks Steve a little. The subtle touches of rainbow decorating the storefront were Robin’s idea, just a welcoming sign for those who know what it means, who need it. Which, apparently, is this guy too, dark eyes watching as Steve makes the connection.

Plus, the kind of kids that get off the bus and hang out in the beanbag corner of the bookstore, also tend to be the type that bullies flock to, but not here, Steve makes sure of that. Not with the nail bat, that’s for things more serious than school bullies.

“Is that who’s after you?” Steve asks, shooting a look out the window. His gut starts to twist in some form of empathy for the guy, it would make sense why he hurtled inside so quickly.

“No, nothing like that, but I still need to lay low for a second.”

Steve squints, empathy gone.

“Okay well, the bat is for thieves too, then. You know, Mr. Simon might be a mean old shit, but he doesn’t deserve to be stolen from. He’s got a family, dude.”

“Well, isn’t that admirable. Look, I appreciate what you’re doing here, the whole local protector, vigilante bat-man thing, it’s pretty badass,” A pun. This would-be thief really just made a damn pun about Steve’s would-be murder weapon. “But I didn’t take anything from anyone, Stevie boy.”

Pun forgotten, Steve grips the bat tighter, demanding to know, “How do you know my name?”

Another annoying smile as the guy gestures to his chest, where Steve’s name tag is. Right.

“Tell me yours,” he counters, noticing how the guy’s smile falters, looking hesitant, crouching lower, hiding. Steve sighs, “I’m not gonna go to the cops, man. Your face is going on the wall and your name is going on the list.”

This guy is just smirking way too much for someone in his situation, “Wow, I must be real special then. It’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

“Okay then, Munson,” Steve narrows his eyes at the necklace again, “If you didn’t take anything, then where’d you get that chain, huh?”

This Eddie looks caught off guard, his mouth already formed into some excuse that Steve cuts off.

“Just hand it over,” he flourishes the bat this time, satisfied with how Eddie looks both impressed and intimidated. His eyes stay on Steve as he removes the necklace, dark and alive with something, like he’s enjoying this somehow.

“Okay fine, easy with that thing, big boy. You can keep it for now as collateral for letting me stay.”

He passes Steve the chain, and Steve doesn’t want to fuss with his jean pockets so he just slips it over his head, Eddie’s eyes tracking where it falls around his neck. He sees it’s not a pendant like he thought, it’s a red guitar pick resting against his chest. Not Simon’s usual merchandise, but the chain definitely is, it’s expensive, Steve can tell.

“But, as good as it looks on you, I’m gonna need it back when you realize it’s not stolen.”

Annoyance. That’s the flare of heat Steve feels, it has to be, this whole exchange is getting him hot under the collar. He obviously knows Eddie’s hitting on him, not the first time he caught someone up to no good, and they clocked the rainbows and tried to flirt their way out of it. And this guy isn’t bad looking, maybe under different circumstances in a nice bar somewhere, Steve would flirt right back, but he’s not falling for it now.

He’s glad the couple minutes are up, doesn’t know why he checks out the windows to make sure it’s all clear for Eddie.

Bat still in hand, he makes Eddie stand while he fishes out the polaroid camera behind the counter.

“Don’t you want to get in the photo?” Eddie asks.

Steve’s free hand snaps to his hip, “And why would I want that?”

“Right,” Eddie grins, sticking out his tongue when Steve holds up the camera, throwing up that same hand sign that Dustin keeps making nowadays when the flash goes off. “No fun kissin’ a picture of yourself. Or, maybe it is when you look like you do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Playing cute with me isn’t gonna get you off the hook,” and sits the newly printed polaroid on the counter, ignoring the way his cheeks feel hot. It’s just the adrenaline coming down.

He finally puts the bat away, still watching warily as Eddie comes closer, picking up a pen and scribbling what looks to be his phone number on the photo.

“Gotta say, this was nice, Steve. I’d love to do it again sometime,” he smirks, hopping back over the counter the same way he came, “I mean it though, give me a call about that necklace. What kinda rockstar would I be without my lucky guitar pick?”

“Yeah right,” Steve snorts, “I don’t wanna catch you around here again. I never forget a face, Munson, especially not yours.”

“I’m flattered,” he pats his hand over his heart, then throws Steve a wave as he pushes open the door, “Keep that up and you can call me anytime.”

One last wink that sort of makes Steve’s chest flutter and he’s gone. It’s nothing, just some crazy guy that annoyed him half to death, and he hopes he never sees again.

When his shift ends later that evening, he goes next door to try and return the necklace to Mr. Simon, but he insists that it wasn’t stolen from his shop.

Steve’s starting to think he may have accidentally robbed someone at nail-bat-point. But it’s not possible because that’s not possible. How do you accidentally rob someone? What crime would he even be charged with? A little oopsie burglary? Ridiculous.

No, the old man is just out of his mind and doesn’t recognize his own shit. It’s the only thing that would make sense in that whole bizarre situation. Who else would Eddie have been ‘hiding’ from? Why else was it so urgent that he handed over the necklace without much fuss?

It’s not until days later when Dustin hops onto the counter that Steve really realizes.

“Steve,” Dustin says slowly, “Why am I looking at a picture of Eddie freaking Munson on the banned wall?”

Steve looks around, “That guy? You know him? I caught him stealing from Mr. Simon the other day.”

“You— He— What!? He was here?” Dustin sputters, “Steve, I’m 1000% sure he wasn’t stealing shit! What did you do to him?”

“I did my job, Henderson. I banned him from the store and got back the necklace he took— What— Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Steve.”

It’s over the course of the next conversation, getting completely chewed up and spit out by Dustin that Steve learns he didn’t just accidentally rob someone.

“STEVE.”

He accidentally robbed a world famous rockstar.

Steve spends the next few days so deeply embarrassed that he can’t even dare to pick up the phone. He gave Eddie such a hard time when all he needed was a place to hide out so he didn’t get mobbed by fans and paparazzi.

Looking back on it, knowing what he knows now, Eddie handled it with such grace. Steve’s even more ashamed, not because of the whole rockstar thing, but because it's shitty to hurl accusations and a deadly nail bat at anyone, and take their stuff on top of that.

He finally bolsters up the courage to dial the number. As soon as he hears ‘what’s up, it’s Munson’ on the other line, he lets loose a string of apologies and a promise to give the necklace back as soon as he can.

It gets cut short with that same chuckle that still gives him a warm chill even down the phone line.

“Keep it. Looks better on you,” he can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice, “But that means you’re gonna have to come to my show tonight. Can’t play without my lucky guitar pick, can I?”

[wannaeatramyeon]

The Crew Heads with Reader: Suits

G/N. Silly. You wonder about their outfits. (Jake Kim, Eli Jang, Johan Seong, Samuel Seo). Non plot panel spoilers for 505 under cut!

Bro Code | Dinner | Shopping | Television | Gacha | Board Games | Suits

"Why do you always wear suits to fight?" You ask the four men lounging in your living room.

You hold up their dry cleaning. "A. It's costing a fortune to clean and B. Aren't, I dunno, track pants comfier?"

"I don't." Johan pipes up and you get the urge to pat him on the head. His custom God Dog designs are frankly adorable.

It is utterly charming having him show you the latest outfit he has drawn. With a logo and everything. He never explicitly asks what you think, but you know he seeks your approval anyway.

"Not you," you agree, giving Johan a warm smile that makes him avert his eyes and his ears turn pink.

The rest of the guys, Samuel, Jake and Eli exchange shifty glances at your questions.

"And there's no way-" You hold up a rag. You assume it must have been a Big Deal jacket at some point before it was torn up, "-They said they can repair this. They said I was out of my mind."

Jake had surmised it was a long shot. It was technically missing the lapels. And sleeves. And had long gashes down the back so most of it was ripped off and in tatters.

You're not wrong that it's costing a lot and he thought he would chance a repair instead of having to get a new jacket for Lineman.

You're right, unfortunately. He's going to have to look into some tracksuits instead.

"Thanks for trying," he says with a shrug.

The thing is, the Big Deal uniform just looks cool. Men in suits, who doesn't like that?

Samuel pre-Workers and pre-Big Deal also favoured suits because of how it looked. Authoritative. Like he means business. He wasn't a huge fan of the Workers white but the status that came along with it more than compensated for the colour.

Eli was convinced during the Fifth Affiliates when he was provided made-to-measure Workers suits to represent the crew. Warren and Max and Derrick didn't need much convincing after the girls oohed and aahed over it.

Except the Hostel budget didn't stretch to nice tailored suits, so they had to settle for black shirts and pants.

Still. That was cool enough.

But they can't admit that.

It's embarrassing to let you know they base their whole outfit on what looks good because truth be told, they can barely stretch in those things.

The material isn't made for high kicks and full body slams and sudden movements.  One lunge and they risk a split along the asscrack.

It's why their clothes end up torn off so often.

And yes, there has been awkward popped buttons or ripped seams during inopportune moments mid fight when even Gun Park's eyes momentarily flickered down to exposed underwear or an ass cheek hanging out.

But goddamn, the aesthetics.

"It's comfortable," Eli says unconvincingly, as you raise an eyebrow at his answer.

Somewhere to your right, you hear Johan mutter, "Liar."

[shiftythrifting]

Found these two incredible custom dollhouses for 4.99 each at a Savers in Crestwood, Missouri. (Would have gotten them if they were barbie doll sized)

[ween-kitchens]

can't remember if I ever posted this to tumblr so have a silly little snippet from an au me and stiff came up with!

the premise is that every hermit is some kind of hybrid, but is worried about sharing this fact because they all think they're the only hybrid on hermitcraft. empires on the other hand immediately clocks them all as hybrids and assumes the fact they’re hiding it is some kind of lore

jimmy can’t help grinning as scar tries to get him to ‘accept himself’ for the fifth time this afternoon. man, these hermitcraft people are fantastic at sticking to the bit—jimmy knows he would have cracked up way before now if it was him.

“you gotta accept it as part of you!” scar is practically begging him as jimmy leads him to the tavern. “you’ll never get anywhere if you’re left hating something like that about you, tim!”

jimmy turns to look at him. he keeps throwing his hat in the air and catching it again—that’s allay behaviour if he’s ever seen it.

“scar,” jimmy says, dropping the ‘oh no i’m so tormented’ act for a moment. “you do know i’m not actually a toy, don’t you?”

scar blinks at him. “you- no, you are. aren’t you?”

“no!” jimmy laughs at the look on scar’s face. “i’m a cow, scar, have you seen me?”

“wait- but what’s all that about then!” scar exclaims, gesturing in the direction of stratos. “with the ‘little toy man’ and- and the revealing potion!”

“oh that’s just for fun!” jimmy grins. “none of it’s true: the ‘revealing potion’ just makes you short, and joel knows i’m not a toy.”

“gosh, you empires people are odd.” scar says. “why do something that’s not true?”

“well, first of all, it’s funny.” jimmy says. “and second of all, it makes for a cool story! you being human isn’t real, but it-“

“not human?” scar interrupts, looking nervous all of a sudden. “i don’t- I have no clue what you mean! ‘not human’,” scar laughs to himself, unconvincingly offhand. “ah, you never fail to amuse me, jimmy.”

jimmy blinks at him. “is that- do you guys-“ 

and something clicks. the shiftiness of tango, the wide-eyed gazes at their hybrid features that all the hermitcraftians had enacted, almost like-

almost like they didn’t know they were all hybrids.

jimmy suppresses a laugh. wow, okay. now that’s a story.

“scar, I know you’re an allay.” jimmy says. “or a vex? somewhere in between?”

“somewhere in between.” scar clarifies. “how- how did you know?”

“I hate to tell you, but you’re not very subtle about it.” jimmy grins. oh gosh, he’s going to have to tell everyone when he has the time. no wonder all the hermits looked so surprised to see them.

“not subt- how am I not subtle?” scar asks. “I do everything humans do!”

“you’re counting your fellow hermits as humans?” jimmy asks.

“well of course.” scar says. ah, that’s where he’s gone wrong, jimmy thinks. “sure, we’re all a little weird over there, but i’m the only hybrid. and no one has noticed yet, so i think i’m doing quite well actually.”

“must be ‘cause i’m used to hybrids then.” jimmy settles on, because whilst he doesn’t want to reveal the secrets of.. pretty much everyone except the guy in the doom outfit, he also really wants to see how this plays out.

“oh yes.” scar agrees quickly. “must be that.”

“now, I do believe I was showing you the saloon!” jimmy says, putting on his silly accent for the last word, and scar seems to register that he’s back in character.

“yeah, the saloon!” scar exclaims, ever the enthusiast.

as scar starts to ramble about how he doesn’t think you can be classified as a cowboy unless you have your own saloon (which jimmy agrees with wholeheartedly), jimmy smiles to himself as he anticipates the reactions of his server-mates when he breaks the news. 

.. and also he might be smiling at the way scar’s face lights up as he speaks. but that’s a matter for another time.

[heavenlymorals]

Since a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts, let's drunkinly antagonize the camp members to know what Arthur dislikes the most about them even if he won't usually say it:

- Dutch: How vague and unauthentic he is, how he's always been a good actor, and how rash he could get.

- Hosea: How "boring" he's gotten and how he always seems to be complaining.

- Charles: How "boring" he seems to be.

- Javier: How vain and "effeminate" he seems to be.

- John: How "pathetic" he is.

- Bill: How "dumb" he is.

- Sean: How "shifty" he is and how he overplays himself. Oh, and how lazy he is.

- Lenny: How "cocky" he's getting and how he thinks he "knows more" for his age then he actually does.

- Swanson: How "pathetic" and "useless" he is.

- Strauss: How he isn't "man" enough to deal with his own business and how "weak" he is.

- Uncle: How lazy he is and how he has "wasted" his life.

- Pearson: How much he yaps about the navy and how his cooking is bad.

- Micah: Just him in general. "There he is, God's gift to nobody." If I was Micah, I'd cry.

- Mary Beth: Honestly? Nothing. He doesn't dislike anything about her, he only thinks that she isn't cut out for their life and that it makes her needy.

- Tilly: How "untrustworthy" she could be given her history with her old gang.

- Abigail: How much she "complains and moans" at John and just in general, and her past as a working girl.

- Karen: How much she drinks and how "unladylike" she can get.

- Molly: How lazy and "unstable" she is.

- Grimshaw: How she is always in a "mood" and how she "sucks the joy" out of their lives. (He also makes a comment that's like "if this is how women are when they get old, no wonder Dutch keeps trading for a younger model" Arthur, wtf bro that's not cool😭)

- Sadie: How much she keeps complaining and trying to act all "tough".

- Kieran: How he doesn't stand up for himself and how "nervous and anxious" he is all the time.

And to Arthur? I probably gave him liver failure ☹️ Anyways, yea, I dunno why I did all of that, but here it is now 🤷🏻‍♀️

[deadghosy]

Vlogger! Mattheo x Editor! Reader pt.1/pt.2

“Welcome to my vlog! Today we are metting up with my editor Y/N…I’m kinda nervous because what if they’re a weirdo or something....” he says as he drives over to the cafe you picked out to met him. As he pulls over he grabs the camera and walks over to a table you ordered. As he waits he sees a figure walk over, immediately he felt his throat go dry at the gorgeous person in front of him. They were wearing an [aesthetic] outfit as they wave at the blogger who seems smitten.

“Wassup Matty! It’s me, Y/N!” You said with an excited grin. Immediately Mattheo got into a proper sitting posture and shook your hand. “Hey! I’m mattheo!” He says nervously. But as soon as he realized what he said you laughed. “I know who you are man.” You say in front of him. You guys start to order as he kept looking at you, which the camera definitely picked up as his eyes were gazing at your face only. He can’t believe he had the best editor ever, mostly that his editor was fine as hell as well. He was so stuck on staring at you, he almost didn’t hear what you were saying

“Honestly, I can’t believe I’m hanging out with the infamous mattheo riddle. I bet your fan girls are seething right as of now.” Matthew laughs at your joke as he sets the camera up where it picks up the both of you. “Eh, probably not. They probably are thirsting over you.” He says with his charming smile. You smirked drinking your water. “Hm. Isn’t that right ladies?” You then winked at the camera which earned another laugh from Mattheo.

“So, you’ll be staying for a week right?” You nodded eating a burrito. Mattheo smiled, but he couldn’t help but take a picture of you eating a burrito. “Heyy! I saw that!” You laughed as you try to take a picture of him eating a sandwich. “Ain’t no way!” He then grabs your phone making you chuckle. The lunch was amusing as mattheo offered to drive you to his place. You had Uber to the lunch spot, so why not do the favor of making you save money.

You got in the car and immediately started playing some sza which got the two in mood to sing. His eyes showed admiration as you sang your heart at snooze. “I can’t lose! When I’m with youuuu!” You sang as you touched mattheo’s shoulder. Mattheo grinned, his teeth showing as he to his house. As he parked your mouth was dropped at how big his house was.

And this is where you are going to stay at for a week.

Day 1, you had edited the video he made. You laughed when he said he was scared that you were gonna be a weirdo. But what was more funny was that you noticed how much mattheo glances at you. It’s adorable, his eyes tell a story every time they glance at you. As you finished editing, mattheo paid a pizza guy and brought pizza in. “Hey! [N/N] I bought us some pizza. Grab you a slice.” “Bet!” It was a cool pizza night.

Day 3, mattheo was vlogging as you two were at the beach. Mattheo wearing green trunks, as you wore your own beach outfit. “Guys look at my hot editor picking up sea shells.” He says as the camera zooms on you from afar picking up shells. “Aren’t they just beautiful.” His voice was soft, as his eyes was hidden behind his shades. “Matty!” You ran over to him, accidentally running into him as the sand was very shifty. “Hey, slow down!” He says with a smile, almost dropping his camera. One arm was around you as the other was afar with the camera. Capturing the moment of you against the Riddle man. “Sorry, but look at these sea shells I found! So pretty..” You were excited to show him as you counted them. “Yeah they are..” his eyes softened, looking at you behind his shades.

Day 5, you were laying beside mattheo who was slowly falling asleep by you combing his hair with your fingers. He hummed a little before hugging your waist, his head in your lap. You smiled before frowning. You have two days before you leave and you already love it here…with him..

The last day, it was sad for mattheo and you. As you packed your stuff mattheo was making a small little vlog video of himself. “So today Y/N is leaving back to their hometown…me and them have bonded a lot over this week..and I must say ima miss them a lot.” He says looking at the camera as he gets up walking to the room you had. “Hey, you down packing?” He says as the camera zooms onto you. “Yeah boss, it’s done.” You laughed but it was clear you were upset. You were upset you had to leave mattheo. “Hm..ima miss you.” “I’ll miss you too..” you got up, ready to leave as your Uber was here. As you walked pass him, he had the urged to just grab you, kiss you and make you stay longer. But he can’t risk that. He just follows you as the camera is cut off. But soon as you almost exit the front door, he grabbed your wrist. Making you snap your head at him.

“You can stay with me..” Mattheo says holding your arm. You raised a brow, looking at him softly. “You know that means I have to get my stuff from my home town right?” Mattheo nods. “I can help you..as long as you stay with me of course. If you want!” He lets go of your arm quickly, making you smile. “Of course I’ll stay with you.” You the kiss his cheek as you walk from his porch. Mattheo’s cheeks were a dusty pink as he smiled at the fainting figure. As he was about to go back in his house he heard you yell. “Can’t wait to edit all the love gazes you gave me!” Immediately the man was even more whipped for you

[seravphs]

棠 —

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO x FEM READER

Gojo has something to tell you. Megumi is unfortunately still a member of the male species. Tsumiki just wants to watch the sunset. 

wc — 1.5k

cw — interlude between tried to live in a softer way and stockholm (coming soon), 棠 means "wild plums", Megumi’s a good boy but he’s still a boy (gross), part of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together, I lowkey forgot Tsumiki existed when I first started writing Teen Dad! Gojo so now I have to retcon her in 

Megumi’s mouth is smeared with purple pulp. 

“You better have washed that,” you warn him as you carefully cut Tsumiki’s fruit for her. Your knives drip juice onto the ground, requiring careful attention to make sure the sugar won’t rust them. 

Some cursed weapons are durable, outlasting generation after generation of the sorcerers that wielded them. Yours are more delicate. Like flowers, they require great care.

Tsumiki takes the slice you hand her with gratitude and pops it into her mouth with a little shiver of happiness. Her fingertips are turning purple to match Megumi’s lips. You pour a little water from your bottle over them, and place another slice into her mouth yourself. 

“A little dirt is good for him,” Gojo calls from where he’s wedged halfway inside the trunk, fighting for the folding chairs he threw in haphazardly. Now they’re stuck. You told him they would be, and he hadn’t listened. 

You make an unconvinced noise in the back of your throat, pursing your lips. He can’t see you, of course. 

“Germs are gonna make his immune system stronger. Eat up, Megumi!” 

Megumi wrinkles his nose and unhappily swallows his bite. The next time Tsumiki hands him a slice of her (washed) plums, he takes it. Nothing ever works as well on him like Gojo and inadvertent reverse psychology. 

After another minute of letting Gojo struggle to prove a point, you reach over and tug on a latch. The chair Gojo is struggling with snaps shut so you can effortlessly pull it out of the trunk. Gojo smiles sheepishly. 

“What did we learn from this?”

“Wife is always right?” He says cheekily. 

“Can I help?” Tsumiki pops up underneath your elbow. 

“It’s okay,” Gojo ruffles her hair. “We got it.” 

He pushes you gently away when you try to take a chair, carrying three singlehandedly to the spot where Megumi and Tsumiki are waiting with the picnic basket. You know he wants you to gush over him, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

You purposefully turn away to start setting out the food, only for him to saunter over as soon as Tsumiki and Megumi are sitting in their newly placed chairs. 

“Did you see that?” 

“You are the strongest, Satoru.” This is easy work for him. 

“Okay, but it’s still cool, right?” 

Sometimes you want to ignore him and sometimes you want to give in. Gojo, like Megumi is predictable. He needs the carrot and the stick. 

“Yeah,” you smile. “It was cool. You know what would be cooler?” 

He’s setting out the dishes before you even have to ask. 

You’re not fooled even though Gojo’s acting completely normal. As lighthearted and nonchalant as he is, anyone who didn’t know better would think there’s nothing in the world that could phase him, but you do know better. 

He’s not the type to share his issues, especially not when he thinks he can solve them on his own, which is what you think is going on here. It’s fine. 

You don’t press. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. 

“Someone’s coming,” Megumi announces. 

Gojo raises an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?” 

He looks away, eyes shifty. 

“You know you’re not supposed to be summoning your dogs in public!” You scold him. 

Technically, he’s not supposed to know anything about his technique yet. Young sorcerers aren’t allowed to use their technique if they’re not enrolled at Jujutsu High. Of course, it’s different for clans, especially big clans. None of the elders who sit on the council are going to punish one of their own for getting ahead of the game. In fact, they’re quite willing to turn a blind eye to anything that makes their clan more powerful, even if it means starting their young off early. Too early, in your opinion. 

Gojo disagrees with this judgement, as he disagrees with everything the elders say. He’s been training Megumi in secret, slowly getting him used to the Ten Shadows. The dogs, which Megumi’s manifested since he was young, were the first to become tamed. They’re the easiest for him to control, so he looses them more often than he should. Regardless of what Gojo thinks, it’s simply not safe. You don’t want to give the Zenins any reason to take Megumi and Tsumiki. 

Megumi calls his shikigami back. They evaporate into shadow just as an old couple hobble up the dirt path. 

“Oy, granny!” Gojo calls, ignoring you as you smack his arm. “You need a hand?” 

“I’m okay,” she calls back. “Don’t worry about me! Just taking my daily walk.” 

Gojo gives you an aghast look. 

“Why are they hiking up here? One of them is going to break a leg,” he hisses. 

“Are you sure?” You ask them hesitantly. 

“My, aren’t you sweet! I’m alright, hon. The fresh air will do these old bones some good.” 

Beside her, her husband nods in agreement. He seems like the silent type to her extrovert. 

“What’re you two doing up here?” She says, picking her way over. 

Tsumiki holds up her plate. “Picnicking!” 

“How cute,” the old woman coos as she pinches her cheek. 

“And you! Why, I could just eat you up,” she tells Megumi, who looks mildly alarmed, not at her words, but at her attention. He squirms in his seat. 

“Your little brother?” The couple smiles as you stiffen. It’s not their fault. They have no idea. 

“My son,” Gojo says, his own smile turning unpleasant. 

“Oh!” She seems to sense she’s made a mistake of some sort, taking her husband’s arm once more. “I’m sorry, you seemed so young. Well, I’m sure you want to get back to your picnic without these old folk. Be careful not to stay out too late! I hear there’s a storm brewing.” 

Her husband helps her carefully over the grass back on to the dirt path. She turns back to wave, just once. 

“That wasn’t nice,” you say, watching them leave. “They didn’t know.” 

Gojo rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” 

“Look!” Tsumiki jostles Megumi, who’s still focused on his food instead of the sky. “The sun is setting!”

Gojo picked a good spot. No trees obstruct your view of a sky stretching as far as the eye can see. As someone who’s lived in the city for so long, it’s almost a miracle to witness. 

The sky is awash in floral hues. Burnt orange, ashy lavender, and muted links spread throughout the clouds. You’re smiling, awestruck at the sight, when you hear a click. You turn back just in time to see Gojo shove his phone in his pocket. 

“Did you just take a picture of me?” 

“Nope! Why don’t you sit tight while I repack everything?” 

Even when you try to help, Gojo pushes you back in your chair. His little helpers dash back and forth from the makeshift campsite to the car until everything is safely packed away. 

When you finally get up and brush your lap off, Gojo offers you his arm. 

You laugh at him. “Come on, I don’t need that.” 

He pushes his arm in your direction again, insistent. He’s being such a baby today, but you can’t help spoiling him. You take it as he escorts you to the car and opens the door for you with a flourish. 

The kids don’t want to go home, but Gojo distracts them with promises of McDonald’s on the long, winding trip down the mountain. Megumi’s at that age where he knew better than to trust the strange white haired sixteen year old who offered to take him in but still gullible enough not to understand there are no McDonald’s on mountains. 

He and Tsumiki fall asleep in the back seat as the rain patters rhythmically on the windows. All around you, the earth is lush and verdant. You’re in Eden before the fall. It’s hard to stay mad when the forest is putting on such a show for you outside. The earth is blooming, beckoning. 

Gojo rolls down the sun roof so the warmth of weak sun beams shines into the car. If you look up, the rain beads on the glass like crystals on a backdrop of dove grey storm clouds. 

It’s still raining when you get home. 

Gojo carries Megumi and Tsumiki inside, one in each arm. It’s a testament to their sleepiness that neither protest. You drop a kiss on each cherubic little cheek as you tuck them into bed, pressing the covers down around them. 

Gojo’s waiting in the kitchen when you quietly close their bedroom door. 

“I have something to tell you,” he says almost half-heartedly, looking out the window. “But you have to promise not to be mad.” 

You knew it. 

Whatever it is, you’re sure you can take it. You and Gojo have been through the worst of everything together, from a bullet in the shoulder to whiney, feverish children. There’s nothing you can’t handle to keep your little family together. 

“The Zenins want to take Megumi away,” he blurts out. 

Okay, maybe that wasn’t what you were expecting, but it’s fine. You can make it work. 

“They’re coming tomorrow.” 

You’re going to kill him.