white mr t

okay hear me out: 

you know those photo series that are like “In The Running For The Next Spiderman/Young Han Solo/Bachelor/Prince Eric/Property Brother”

and it’s just like nine generically handsome brunet white men that might all be Henry Cavill or might all be Matt Bomer or might all be the photogenic runner guy from 2012 for all we know but it’s impossible to tell because they are just so generic?

and you know how nobody really remembers what Moist von Lipwig (slash Albert Spangler where applicable) actually looks like, they just remember the gold hat, or the glasses, or the bountiful ear hair?

what I want is an adaptation where Moist, whenever he’s being an anonymous face or The Man in the Golden Suit or Albert Spangler, is played by a series of generically handsome brunet white men who are swapped out shot-to-shot.


In the interest of saving time and avoiding flooding the tag, I’ll start compiling the rest of the con hallway photos I’ve taken.
Thank you everyone for letting me take your pictures, I really loved all of these cosplays! Especially those Harry Dresden, Merle, and Nacho Libre cosplayers!

If you or your friends are here, let me know and I will tag you!

(If you want photos either posted individually or taken down, just ask!)

Joker x reader fan fiction: Just an ordinary girl and an ordinary night

You could just tell it was going to be one of those nights. You know the ones. Despite the fact that you have done it all before and you know it will end in disappointment, you still go through the ritual because its what you do when you’re young, right? This is how it’s supposed to be. You get dressed up and apply your makeup with that bit of faith that this uniform will get you somewhere. Who knows, you might even find the one, you never know who you’re going to meet on a night out and fate may just be waiting to push you into your true love. Yeah right. Unfortunately this is real life where most nights end in you going home alone while your friend heads home with some random guy. Not that you couldn’t get a random guy if you wanted but you just weren’t into that. You wanted the real thing. As stupid as that was and as hard to come by as it is in this modern world.

So this is where your story begins, on a night just like any other. It started predictably, after a few glasses of wine at home, you and your friend Freda arrived at the entrance of the new swanky club she had been asking you to go to for weeks. ‘I heard there are people in mermaid costumes that swim in a glass tank in the middle and acrobats! Like have you ever been to a club like that before? Its going to be amazing!’ she chirped to you as a group of guys who headed the queue were let in and you shuffled up a few steps closer to the entrance. ‘Oh did you see him, the guy in the white t-shirt? He was cute!’ Freda squeaked beside you. ‘Yeah he was ok I guess. Not my cup of tea but hey if it works for you’, you replied unenthusiastically. ‘Come on (y/n) loosen up and have a bit of fun for once!’ Freda pleaded. ‘I guess ill try’ was all you could manage.

10 minutes later, and 1000 words of commentary about every cute guy in sight in the form of Freda’s keen observational assessments, you were finally let inside. Immediately Freda made a b-line for the bar, conveniently where Mr White T-shirt currently resided. ‘Working quickly tonight I see’ you teased Freda. ‘You have to otherwise all the good ones get snapped up’. You laughed ‘got this down to a fine art .’ ‘Yes I do, now watch this’ and just like that Freda confidently clicked her stilettoes over to Mr White T-shirt and whispered something that was inaudible to you over the throbbing club music into his ear. Before you knew it Mr White T-shirt and Freda had moved over to the dance floor, leaving you a vulnerable target for random guys to approach you with the amazingly creative and original line ‘a beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone, where are your friends? Oh over there making out with that guy? Why don’t you come and dance with me’. After suffering through having to make a few rejections with a polite ‘oh no I’m fine thanks’ you decided to go for a walk to check the place out, Freda clearly wasn’t going anywhere.

You decided to go up the staircase and check out the upper floors of the club. It was a different vibe up there. Darker somehow. It was there you saw him. How could you not notice him, he had a magnetic pull on the whole room and everyone moved as if aware of his gaze. Wearing a high collared purple jacket, he was sitting in a throne like chair that overlooked the entire dance floor. You had heard this was his club, but you never thought he would be here. You didn’t want to stare but it was hard to tear your eyes away. It was then that he turned and stared back. It was like the whole world was going in slow motion; all the dancers were frozen in time. The couple in the corner were mid kiss, the girl grinding in the middle of the floor was stuck in her last pose and the bartender was stopped in the middle of pouring an electric green cocktail. The music slowed down and the smoky fog hung immobile in the air. It was like the entire world knew that this moment was so significant that it had to stop to let it happen. How could a gaze be so intense? And from him? You needed to seriously pull it together and stop being ridiculous. He was a psychotic freak right? You had heard the stories. Everybody knew. A deranged psychopathic clown was what he was known as. You needed to get your racing heart under control.

Managing to reclaim your composure and pull your eyes away from his burning blue orbs you headed towards the bar to get some water. By the time you looked back to where he was, he was gone and to your dismay didn’t seem to be anywhere on the floor. Good. You were glad he was gone. You cant like him, what is seriously wrong with you (y/n)?. Although the encounter lasted for what you estimated was only a few minutes, you felt as if it had gone on for hours and were feeling mentally drained. Time to call it a night. Even if you’ve only been in the club for 45 minutes. Things were getting to weird and you needed to go home. After getting the inevitable confirmation from Freda that she was heading home with Mr White T-shirt, assuring you she would be fine, you jumped in the nearest cab and headed home.

When you let yourself into your dark apartment and snapped on the light, you saw it. Placed on your table in the middle of your apartment entrance was a vase containing a single red rose with a card. ‘We will see each other again soon, J’.