he looks like he's dressed for a funeral

brendon urie is the type of guy to carve something very poorly out of soap like a bear and give it to sarah as an anniversary gift and she doesnt know what to do with it because its a bear carved out of soap but she cant just put it in the closet because brendons always watching the bear because he made it he is the creator of the bear and then one day sarahs washing dishes and she thinks its time for murder and drops the bear into the sink and brendon cries for 3 days straight and holds a tiny funeral for a lump of soap that used to vaguely look like a deformed bear and makes all of his friends come and the only person who isnt extremely confused is pete wentz because pete wentz dressed up as a teletubby once nothing stuns that guy

The circumstances in which Anders changes his outfit always struck me as very unique from other LI. Others change because they’re in love (or at least in a love affair), it indicates hope and happiness. But with Anders, I always felt like it was the sign of him losing hope. Like he was dressing for his own funeral, knowing he will die right after his deed.

I like to imagine he had those robes stored for many years “for a special occasion”, got them all black because “old” Anders  just loved looking cool . And that day he realized there will never be a “special occasion” for him after what he’s about to do, and finally put them on. 

(Sorry for a grim picture, I got really inspired by Andrzej Wróblewski’s art).


Originally posted by yooingi

He dressed like he was always headed for a funeral. Black suits that usually would look pressed and sharp crinkled with lines from overuse. The scent of a week’s worth of cologne worn into the fabric, and a road map of scents from months spent in different hotel rooms buried so deep no laundromat could get out.

His handsome face cold and devoid of emotion as he held guns to the faces of pretty little tellers and told them to be smart and just fill the bags with cash. After a while you were able to talk him into letting you join. Your arguments of two hands were better than one slowly setting in until he finally conceded.

On good days, Yoongi splurged on nice hotel rooms and fancy dinners. On bad ones, you’d find him in the bathroom scrubbing blood out of one of the two white dress shirts he owned. The aloofness he showed to others was never what you received. He treated you gently, like glass that had a tendency to break. Callous hands and bruised knuckles pulling you in tighter to his chest when you laid in bed at night making you feel warm and protected.

Yoongi told you in odd places what you meant to him. In the car where the only sound was the humming of the engine and shared baths where water lapped up to your neck.

“You’re the only good in my life.”

Those were his usual words. The hidden, “I love you,” wrapped around their syllables as he combed out your hair or took your hands tightly into his. The only time that gentleness dissolved was when he claimed your mouth with his. A skilled tongue parting your lips until the kiss became something wild and filled with ragged breaths. Those same hands that treated you so carefully leaving fingerprints in the skin of your thighs and heart shaped palm prints on your ass, left you a gasping shaky mess curled in loose sheets. The condensation on the windows decorated by your own fingerprints when the thrill of a successful job left him unable to wait until you were safely back in your room.

Every time you had a close call with the cops, Yoongi always said that was it. He couldn’t risk you being taken from him and pleaded with you to get out and walk away from him, but you weren’t leaving him. You were with him until the bitter end, and nothing in the world was going to keep you apart.

Crush (Young Sirius)

because my girl and I were talking and holy crap this is so cute 

* * *

‘Hey look!’ James said, nudging Sirius, ‘There’s Amanda.’ He winked. Sirius didn’t look up from the magazine he was skimming through. ‘Okay.’ He said. James looked at Remus and Peter and then back to Sirius. ‘You know which Amanda I’m talking about right? The one from Hufflepuff…blonde hair and…stuff.’ He trailed off. 
‘Sure.’ Sirius said, turning the page. ‘Hey do you think I could pull of a look like this?’ He asked, showing a picture of a very well dressed wizard to the boys. 
‘Um I guess, if you were going to a funeral.’ Remus said, making Peter snort. 
‘Hey what’s going on with you?’ James asked, turning to his friend. 
‘Nothing.’ He replied. James sighed and looked to Remus for backup. 
‘James is right,’ Remus said, ‘I mean this morning, Madeline asked if you wanted to grab a butterbeer with her and you said no? I thought you liked Madeline-’ 
‘I do not like Madeline!’ Sirius said defensively. ‘I thought she was hot okay? I was wrong.’ 
‘Are you kidding? Madeline is gorgeous!’ James said. 
‘So? I don’t care about freaking-Madeline.’ Sirius huffed, picking his magazine back up. The three boys looked at one another and then to Sirius. ‘Dude, what is going on?’ Sirius sighed and looked at his best friends. 
‘Fine.’ He paused, ‘I have…a crush.’ 
‘You have a crush?’ James asked, furrowing his eyebrows. 
‘O-kay…’ Remus said slowly, giving a sideways look to Peter who shrugged. 
‘And-uh- who is this crush on exactly?’ James asked. 
‘Y/n? Okay.’ Remus nodded, ‘Yeah she’s cute I guess-’ 
‘She’s perfect, alright?!’ Sirius cried, getting agitated. 
‘Alright dude, calm down!’ James stepped in. ‘So why don’t you go talk to her?’
‘James is right,’ said Remus, ‘You’re Sirius, you can get any girl you want.’ Sirius sighed, ‘I-uh-I’ve lost my game.’ 
‘What do you mean?’ 
‘I can’t flirt with her.’ 
‘You can’t flirt with her?’
‘No.’ Sirius sulked. The three boys looked at each other, a confused expression on their faces. ‘And why can’t you-’
‘Because she’s…different! I dunno! Whenever I get close to her I stumble and I don’t know what to say and she looked at me like I’m crazy.’ 
Alright, alright, calm down.’ James said. ‘You don’t need to flirt with her. Why don’t you just ask her out?’ 
‘Ask her out?’ 
‘Yeah, ask her out.’ 
‘Okay,’ Sirius nodded, ‘Okay I can do that.’ 
“Well now’s your chance.’ Remus said, nodding towards you. Sirius took a deep breath and nodded, ‘Okay. Yeah. Ask her out.’ He said to himself before standing up. ‘Good luck, buddy.’ James said. 

You placed your book down on the table in front of you and was just about to sit down when Sirius waltzed up to you. ‘Hey.’ He said. 
‘Hi Sirius.’ You smiled. You hadn’t had a lot of interactions with him but lately you noticed that you’d talked to him more in the past week than you had in the past year. ‘What’s up?’ You asked. Sirius shuffled slightly and then shrugged, ‘I just uhm-wanted to ask you a…question.’ He said. 
‘Alright. Shoot.’ You said, confused. He breathed out slowly. 
‘Um-well-’ He stuttered, looking to the floor. 
‘Well I just-um’ He said, still looking at the floor, ‘I just want to ask…youhavereallyniceshoes!’ He said extremely quickly. 
‘What?’ You asked, laughing softly. 
‘I like your shoes.’ He repeated, glowing red. 
‘That’s not a question.’ You said, ‘But thanks! I like yours too.’ You grinned, before sitting down at the table and opening your book. Sirius laughed awkwardly, ‘Okay cool! Yeah. Good chat, okay bye.’ 

Sirius walked quickly back to his friends, covering his face. ‘What happened?’ 
‘Yeah did she say yes?’ 
‘Are you going out?’ The three chimed in unison all of their eager questions. 
‘I didn’t ask her.’ Sirius said, ashamed. 
‘Then what were you doing?’ James asked. 
‘I told her I liked her shoes.’ Remus had to stifle a laugh and James furrowed his eyebrows, ‘You told her you liked her shoes?’ He repeated. 
‘Yeah.’ Sirius said sadly, ‘But! But! She said she liked mine too! That means she fancies me right?’ 
‘How did you end up with that?’ Remus asked. 
‘Well you know, people who like each other compliment each other.’ 
‘Not necessarily.’ Peter said. 
‘Yeah.’ James said, ‘She probably just aid she liked your shoes because she was uncomfortable and didn’t know what to say. Besides,’ He continued, ‘If you’re going to compliment her, perhaps go for her face and not her feet.’ James rolled his eyes. 
‘DAMN IT.’ Sirius groaned, putting his face in his hands. ‘What do i do?’ He asked, his voice muffled slightly. 
‘I’ll handle it.’ James finally said, standing up. 
‘W-wait w-what are you…what are you doing?’ He said, jumping up.
‘Sirius,’ James said, patting his friend on the shoulder, ‘I care about you. And as your friend I am obliged to not let you tell a girl you like her shoes. Do you want your image ruined? If I let you go back up to her not only would I be letting you down, I would also be letting myself down.’ 
‘I don’t know why I have the reputation of being dramatic.’ Sirius rolled his eyes, sitting back down.
‘Just let me take care of it.’ James said, waving his hand. 

‘Hey.’ You looked up to see James sitting down in the chair opposite you. 
‘Hi?’ You said, giving him a sideways glace. 
‘Listen,’ James started, ‘My friend Sirius over there-’ He pointed behind him. You looked in the direction and saw Sirius, Remus and Peter’s heads all turn away. ‘-He’s not so good at the flirting thing.’ 
‘Oh my god-that was flirting?’ You asked and James solemnly nodded.
‘I’m afraid so.’ 
‘He told me that he liked my shoes. I was so confused I just told him I liked his as well.’ You laughed. James shrugged, 
‘He’s a great guy. You want to go on a date with him?’ You looked behind James to see Sirius looking. When he noticed he quickly brought a magazine in front of his face. ‘He knows I know he’s looking, right?’ You smiled. James grinned, ‘Okay he’s a moron. But he’s also my best friend and a great human overall. What do you say?’ James said, sounding genuine. You finally nodded, ‘Okay.’ 

everyones getting on our collective cases for “spamming” on the Other App so i got mad bc trans sherlock is important to me so i wrote this thing:

“Sherlock is actually a girls name” isn’t just a joke. Sherlock Willow Holmes was born in a world that didn’t quite get his name should really be William.
As a little boy, bounding around the garden and getting dirt on his dresses and bee embroidered overalls, he loudly proclaimed himself “Bluebeard the pirate!” and didn’t care about what gender someone “had” to be to have a beard.
Looking up to his big brother Mycroft, Sherlock wanted to be Just Like Him one day, in every way.
From ages 3 to 11 he wanted to be called Willy, and didn’t understand why people snickered.
When Carl Powers died he didn’t understand why people told him “this is no business for a little girl to be concerned with”.
When redbeard died he wore a suit and tie to the backyard funeral.

Something I noticed when I dropped my kid off at school today:


The age and personality of a parent can be apparent (heh, puns) by the way their child is dressed. 

For example: Most of the kids in my son’s class are well dressed in immaculate dresses with lace or cute little bow ties and little blazers and and nice shoes and their hair is normally combed to perfection.  This is all great and the kids look adorable, but they also look so sad?  Like can they even be children in those clothes?  Why are they dressed that way just for school or just to go to the park? 

MY KID (bless his poor soul) walks into school in jeans and a T-shirt that has a wolf eating pizza or Mario or some shit on it looking like he just rolled out of bed and is normally eating something. 

Know why? I let him make his own choices when it comes to how he dresses.  (excluding certain events like funerals and weddings and whatnot because if I have to dress like an adult then so does everyone else) 

He’s a child.  Why the absolute fuck would I buy something super pricey that he 

-does NOT want?

-would NOT wear?

-grow out of in less than two months?

-get dirt, paint, and other mysterious substances all over?

-rip, tear, or ruin in some way?

Like no.  I’m not doing that to my kid are you kidding me?  I mean every parent is different and so is every kid, so how things are handled can be vary in multiple ways but still.  

He wants to wear a simple T-shirt?  Let him.  He wants to wear bracelets because he likes the way they look?  Let him.  He wants to wear whatever makes him happy and comfortable?  I’m shocked.  Let him. 

I don’t know, maybe I’m ranting about something that’s not that important, but god dammit some of those kids look absolutely miserable in what they are wearing and they can’t be creative energetic children because they don’t want to get in trouble for getting dirty. 

I mean, some kids like to dress that way, and that’s fine.  But please, I implore you, don’t force them. 

I agree that in some moments, you need to be clean and well dressed and well put together and in those moments we ARE.  But life is messy, it’s dirty, nothing can be learned if you are not willing to stick your hands in the mud and make a few gross mistakes. 

I’m sorry, I got way WAY off track, but I feel very passionately about this.  Let my son wear what he wants and don’t bitch at me about your kid wanting to dress that way as well. 

“That’s not the image I want to portray in my family.” 

That great and all, but it would probably be a better image than what you are actually showing with your miserable kid and spotless minivan. I mean fuck do you ever even laugh?? Let your kid do what he wants?? He’s not hurting anyone?? Stop yelling??

I have a headcanon that Hiro didn’t own anything even remotely resembling dress/professional attire before the SFIT showcase because if he had, Tadashi would’ve probably made Hiro dress up for such an important event.

So, imagine for a moment, Aunt Cass having to take a catatonic Hiro to buy a suit for Tadashi’s funeral. She’d always hoped that she would take Hiro to buy a suit for his first job interview or even as a present for getting into SFIT, not like this. Hiro is completely unresponsive the entire time, and his eyes are dull and empty. He lets the tailor make whatever alterations he wants without complaint (Cass had always looked forward to the complaining and the fighting to get Hiro into a suit), and Cass has to more or less help Hiro change because he just won’t move without someone helping him.

Wounded beast

He was standing in the doorway of the hotel, not making another step forward and not going back. Pale, with dark shadows beneath dark eyes full of madness, looking like he forgot about shaving and shower about a week ago, but didn’t forgot to clean and load his gun. The holster under his leather jacket was seen pretty clean to everyone probably. He came here led by a strange self-preservative instinct like an animal, running to the water from the forest fire, except there was no fire, no other danger behind his back, just an uncontrolled fear and a subconscious understanding that he needed help. 

He lost the sense of time. Last time he saw Ted before the case. Dressed in that black funeral suit he said to his lover that it should be his last job. He said, they will take money and leave, and start new life together. After this everything went to Hell. Now he could see, they all were corpses right from the moment, Joe gathered them and gave them those names.

He saw the bellboy coming from the elevator, but didn’t move, he wasn’t sure that it was real and he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating.


I'm working on discourse (1 out of 2 current drafts) about Beth and Daryl having a lot in common, and this just leapt out to me and is making my heart do cartwheels:
  • They both want to see beauty in the world and to protect that beauty.  Daryl has an appreciation of beauty that Beth nurtures because it practically defines who she is. Beth teaches Daryl to understand that beauty doesn’t have to look traditionally beautiful to be worthwhile— like him, like his life. That’s why he looks at her, so stunned, feeling so many feelings, when she asks him to consider the dressed corpses in the funeral home as beautiful.
  • In my opinion, this is probably the number one reason Norman Reedus, who is a studio artist, would ship Bethyl.  Because he knows how important it is for people to appreciate beauty— beauty in all its forms, in artistic and conceptual matters, beauty in meaning and in perseverance and in its “not beauty,” not just a regurgitated, easy sense of beauty based on aesthetically socialized understandings.  
  • Beth thought something that gruesome was beautiful? He wasn’t thinking, “No, I think you’re beautiful.” He was thinking, “Maybe she could think I’m beautiful, too.”


Lexi almost immediately latched onto Cyn when we walked in, while I told her I would catch up with her later on and went on a hunt for Rocky.

I ducked and dodged a lot of muthafuckas that was trying to get my attention. I didn’t know what the fuck they wanted with me, I didn’t come here to converse with any of them so their best bet was to stay the fuck out of my way for the night if they didn’t want to get their feelings hurt.

“Look at this nigga” Rocky said jokingly the moment I found him “Looking like he about to rob somebody, he said I’ma dress like my girl today in all black. Ole I’m going to a funeral ass nigga” he joked

Traci who was sitting on his lap, chuckled “Shut the fuck up Rocky, hi Alex” she shook her head “Why are you dressed like that? I hate Christmas just as much as you do but at least I don’t look it” said

“I really wasn’t trying to leave my house, this was what I had on when Cyn told me to come pick her up and I wasn’t changing” I muttered as I leaned against the fence

They were tucked away in some spot in the backyard.

“Has Leah found you yet?” She asked

“Would I be here if Leah found me?” I asked

Keep reading