the...absence of a shirt ;a;

I don’t know if it’s cause I’m tired or of the 30 mins delay, but I was really fucking bored during the flight. Tried to rewatch Dark Knight Rises for the obvious but the headphones suck. The music choices suck. Prague Cemetery is also sucking so far since the narrator goes off pointless tangents too fucking much. I don’t want to know about a recipe for this particular French food whose name I can’t even pronounce, and I don’t fucking care. It’s not like if the zombie apocalypse rolls around or whatever, it’s going to be useful. I want my conspiracy. Stop going off tangents about how food is so much better than sex but you masturbate anyway, I don’t care. Man. Then I at some point I became self-destructive and I remembered someone whom I’m trying to forget and I’m upset again…fuck them. Moving on is so weird.

At least the flying is still great. I’m always passionate about flying. In another life I’d have a small plane and like millions of dollars on my bank accounts and I’d be happy.

Fitting Room Fiasco

~Hey there! I’m alive! I’ve finally written up a small fluffy fic. I got this idea from a similar situation I was in recently. I was getting really angry that someone was taking so long in the only fitting room in hot topic and once they finally came out they were really cute. Like adorable. So I hope this makes up a bit for my absence and enjoy!~

Jack fumed while he scanned over a few tee-shirts. He had been waiting for fifteen minutes for some asshole in the changing room to get his ass out of it. Jack had just made a quick stop in Hot Topic to browse through everything like he usually would and today he found a shirt he wanted but he decided to try it on to make sure. But he had scanned the whole store several times waiting for this guy and he was fed up. Jack walked over to the door. I mean, you could only take three items inside anyways and Jack had watched the door like a hawk and the person inside had not left once.

Jack knocked on the door harshly.

“Yes?” A deep, smooth voice questioned. So this asshole was a guy.

“I don’t mean to intrude on your fitting time but I’d like to try on this shirt sometime today.” Jack said, his voice laced with anger.

“Actually, I could really use your help!” The man said with excitement, disregarding his snarky comment. The door swung open finally and when Jack looked up from the ground his breath caught in his throat. There stood maybe the most attractive man he had ever seen and to make it even worse he had been trying on swimming trunks and was shirtless, exposing his toned torso.

“Do you think these trunks are the right size?” The man asked. Jack’s face heated as he realised he had just been staring at this guys chest and looked down to his trunks. He didn’t pay much attention to them because that exact moment he turned to the side and Jack got a perfect few of this guys bum.

“U-uh yeah…I think those look perfect.” Jack stuttered out nervously. The guy looked back at me with a wide smirk that slid across his face. The guy in the particularly tight swimming trunks turned his back to Jack and swayed his hips back and forth while staring Jack in the eye with a devious look.

“Like what you see?” He asked in a sensual tone. Jack’s face and ear burned as he scoffed.

“You wish.” Jack said quietly. The guy in trunks turned around and pouted.

“You mean I don’t look good in these?” He asked in a childish tone.

“No no, you look really good in them.” Jack said before thinking and immediately regretted it. The guy gave a hearty laugh and Jack was sure people were beginning to stare.

“Okay I’ll stop messing with you. I just need to try on these jeans real quick and then I’ll be on my way.” He said warmly before closing the door again. Jack stepped back from the door and spaced out. He didn’t know someone could affect him like this. Jack took a quick look at the jewelry racks next to the fitting room. Jack tuned into a few struggled grunts that were being emitted from the room.

“Hey uh, pal? You uh…still around?” He heard the same voice come from the room, just more nervous.

“Yeah, need something again?” Jack said more or less jokingly. Jack smiled at how he called him his pal even though they had just met not two minutes ago.

“Yeah. You know how I was trying on a pair of Jeans? Well they’re skinny jeans and I think I got a pair ten times too small.” He said, nervously laughing.

“So what you’re saying is that you are stuck.” Jack said trying his very best not to burst out laughing.

“Yes and I need you to come in here and help me.” The guy said, frustrated. Jack looked behind him to make sure no one was looking and quickly slipped past the door the guy popped open for him. He had a shirt on now, thank God.

“I really need you to get these off of me, everything from my waist down is slowly losing circulation I don’t think I can feel my feet.” He said in a rush. Jack couldn’t help but let out a few giggles.

“God, I don’t even know your name and you already begging me to take your pants off.” Jack smirked, proud of himself for making that joke. Clever Jack, clever. This time it was the other man who was quickly turning red.

“The name’s Mark now please help me.” Mark wheezed out. Jack walked over to the poor man and helped him stand up. Jack took a look at the situation and quickly regretted it. These pants were so tight that Mark’s crotch must have been going through torture but Jack could easily his…manhood.

“Look I know they’re really  tight but I would really like to be out of them quickly.” Mark said quickly.

“Right.” Jack looked again and blushed as he thought of the only way to get him out of these jeans.

“So, the only way I know how to help is if I crouch down and get really close to your butt or really close to you.. Junk.” Jack said nervously.

“I really do not care at the moment.” Mark stated very clearly. Jack nodded and decided the safest side was the front so Mark wouldn’t accidentally shove his ass in Jack’s face…not that Jack would’ve minded *cough cough*. Jack gripped the waistband of the pants and waited for Mark to grab the back half. Jack slowly counted down from three and then both of them yanked the pants down with all of their might. Thankfully the pants were eventually yanked down and landed in a pool at Mark’s ankles. They both let out a breath of relief. Jack laughed and looked up and was faced with Mark’s clothed crotch. Jack blushed and fell backwards and stood up quickly while Mark laughed loudly.

“Thanks man.” Mark said and extended his hand out to Jack. Jack smiled and shook it, giggling a bit too. They stood there for a moment.

“Well, I guess I’ll be on my way and let you try on that shirt.” Mark said, turning around. Jack gripped Mark’s forearm, making Mark freeze just as he was about to reach for the door knob.

“Wait. Uh, just in case… you know, you ever get stuck in another item of clothing… why don’t I give you my number?” Jack said hesitantly. Mark smiled and handed Jack his phone. Once Jack had put his number in successfully, he waved Mark goodbye and tried on his shirt quickly. It fit and he quickly paid for the shirt and ran out of the store and back out into the rest of the mall. He looked back and forth and caught a glimpse of bright red hair and ran after the man. Once Jack got close enough, he nonchalantly walked up beside Mark.

“Pfft, you stalker.” Mark said laughing a bit.

“Hey, I just couldn’t get enough of you.” Jack playfully poked Mark in the side. They talked and walked all the way out and into the parking lot. Once they got to Jack’s car they stopped.

“Hey, why not let me take you out to eat sometime. To thank you for rescuing me from my denim death trap?” Mark asked with a smile. Jack giggled and nodded.

“Yeah I’d like that. A lot.”

I'm Ready Magnus

We’ve seen Jace shirtless.
We’ve seen Luke shirtless.
We’ve seen Simon shirtless.
We’ve seen Alec shirtless.
We’ve seen Hodge shirtless

I’m ready to see Magnus shirtless. We all know he’s gotta rocking body but we have yet to see it on Shadowhunters. And I absolutely cannot wait for the context surrounding the absence of his shirt. Malec…..? Hopefully.

Rewatching Rebel Resolve, and Hera’s face and body language are basically 100% heartbreaking.

I’m pretty certain that after Fulcrum’s call in Rebel Resolve, Hera went straight to her cabin, closed the door, and quietly fell to pieces.

Chopper might’ve gone to Kanan’s quarters to mourn, but Hera can’t take a step in her own without being confronted with sharp reminders of his absence.

His shirt from the last time he slept with her, discarded in the heat of the moment, lying in a balled-up heap in one corner of the room.

His hairbrush, peeking out of a drawer, its handle wrapped in extra hair bands, since Kanan loses them almost as fast as he replaces them.

The old, weathered sabacc deck he insists on playing with when they’re trying to unwind after the post-mission adrenaline crash. Their last hands are still scattered atop the desk.

Two empty bowls, bottoms sticky with dried juice from the fresh meiloorun he’d sliced up and sprinkled with a dusting of sugar five days ago. When she’d finished hers, Kanan had surrendered half of his, lips quirked in amusement.

She lies on her bed for a long time, Kanan’s shirt hugged to her chest, just–lost.

Then she gathers everything up, eyes stinging, and stuffs it all in a drawer. She needs to go convince the crew that they shouldn’t–can’t–rescue Kanan.

Which is tough, when she can’t even convince herself.

Ryan was unpacking his large bag  as he had been MIA a whole week, though, he wasn’t sure nobody really cared. There were a lot of students around here, and he was convinced he won’t get any asks about his last absence. He whistled, tidying his shirts in the furniture when he felt a presence right behind him and stopped with a sigh. “Never said I was deaf, whoever you are”. He turned around and nodded with a sly smile. a sock in his hand. “May I help you?”

Originally posted by the-white-trash-god