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grannyandgrandpascreations · 8 months

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Sanderson Witch Museum Distressed Flannel Shirt

This item is for a one-of-a-kind bleached "Sanderson Witch Museum Home Of The Black Flame Candle" flannel shirt.

No two shirts will ever be exactly alike so please aware and embrace the differences. All shirts are carefully curated, hand-dyed, and re-purposed so that each shirt is going to be different from the next in terms of color and plaid print.

SIZING: These shirts vary, many are unisex and come in men's sizing. They can be worn by both men & women. Ordering your normal t-shirt size is recommended for a regular fit. Going 1 size up works well for a baggy/oversized fit. Women's or Children's Specific sizing will be noted on the photo/variation options selected.

FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.

COLORS: Each flannel is unique, and no two shirts are going to look exactly alike. Colors are sent at random. Because the colors often change throughout the bleaching process, I cannot take specific color requests for these shirts.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

#flannelshirt - #grannygrandpascustomcreations - #distressedflannelshirt

This item is for a one-of-a-kind bleached "Sanderson Witch Museum Home Of The Black Flame Candle" flannel shirt.

FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

#flannelshirt - #grannygrandpascustomcreations - #distressedflannelshirt - #halloween - #sandersonsisters

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gender-trash · 2 years

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i bought a bunch of flannel at joanns also, with the express intent of using it to make pajama pants, but im also continuing to patch my existing flannel pajama pants out of Spite even though theyre “made of very thin fabric” and “falling apart” bc i got them for free at career fair freshman year and have worn them approximately every other night for the past six years. theyre really comfy and i went to the trouble of adding pockets so they ARE going to last >:( i will die on this hill >:(

(fig. 1: a pair of plaid pajama pants with eight separate patches on the ass covering various worn spots/holes.)

pajama pants of theseus continue to get better/worse (depending on your point of view). the ass is about 80% patches at this point. i also added a drawstring!

(fig. 2a, 2b: the Frankenstein’s Monster of pajama pants; the place where knit fabric scraps go to die.)

in conclusion: i was born with the gift of hands and i’m going to make that everyone else’s problem

#the trashcan speaks #sewing machine go brrr #‘what about pajama shirts’ i just use random career fair t-shirts. optionally with funky bleached patches at the shoulders #from Bathroom Hair Empurplement #honestly all sewing practice is good sewing practice…#the flannel pants have three (3) pockets on them each of which is a different style #and each of which i fucked up in a different way

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switchyfox · 4 months

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I've been having a blast working on a bunch of craft for my mom and helping her with home decor, as well as FINALLY painting on clothes. I've been meant to personalize a bunch of old pieces but never dared start, and it's been a lot of fun so far. Soon gonna work on the biggest part of the project, I'll probably only post photos of it when it's done!

Anyway it's good to go back to traditional art or generally do something tangible every once in a while. If you've been on the fence of starting a new project that gives you a break of digital art, go and start it.

#my current project is a DE themed flannel shirt that I'll give to a friend hehe #I also want to do a t-shirt for another friend (bleaching angel wings on the back)#and another DE themed shirt for myself #talkin

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clothingflannel · 5 months

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Embrace Cozy Chic with Oversized Flannel Shirts Wholesale from Flannel Clothing Manufacturer

In the fast-evolving landscape of fashion, one timeless trend that has stood the test of time is the classic oversized flannel shirt. Whether you’re gearing up for a cozy autumn day or looking to make a bold fashion statement, oversized flannel shirts are the epitome of comfort and style. Dive into the world of fashion with Flannel Clothing Manufacturer, your go-to destination for high-quality…

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floofgryph · 4 months

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*There was a 11 year old girl walking around, the girl had messy brown hair that had bright cyan highlights and that faded into a cherry sorta color, she wore a bright purple and gray striped shirt, purple pants that seemed a bit small on the girl and she had scrapes on her feet, she also had a pretty big backpack that was dragging across the ground while the girl wore it that’s how big it was, anyone gonna talk to her? She seems lonely*

@the-plushie-friendships

A tall man is walking home from the local convenience store. He's carrying two plastic bags of soda, chips, a loaf of bread, and a couple of microwavable dinners. While taking in the natural sounds of the afternoon city, he notices the girl in a local park. He notices that she's carrying a huge backpack and there are no adults around her. He doesn't know why he's interested by this strange sight, but it doesn't stop him from investigating.

"Hey, little girl. Where are your parents?" he asks in a bold and curious manner. "Also, why are you carrying that massive bag? Do you need help bringing it somewhere?"

The man looks very unique from many people. He has a few inhuman features to his physical appearance. e has platinum grey skin, cinereous freckles, tea rose eyes with crimson irises, and metallic silver claws. He has a short mop of thick, messy, bleached pink blonde hair and there is an observable black gradient on his fingers. He dons purple-tinted sunglasses and a couple of beaded bracelets wrapped around his right wrist. He's wearing an oversized ox-blood plaid flannel shirt that’s oversized and a bone white T-shirt that depicts the Sun peeking through three dark clouds with the French proverb underneath saying “Après la pluie, le beau temps” (After the rain, good weather). He has ripped eerie black jeans with silver chains on each side and a studded chestnut belt. Finally, he possesses a pair of eminence purple sneakers with lavenderblush laces and metallic saffron eyelets.

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 10 months

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.⋆｡Make Him Better Looking｡⋆.

Sam Winchester x plus size reader

Truth serum plus hidden feelings and a major amount of lust for your best friend is bound to end well

Warnings: truth serum, reader is hornee, implied smut, size kink, Sam is taller than the reader, explicit thoughts, mutual pining, mentions of a hunt

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Falling in love with Sam had been easy- not only was he stupidly handsome with those big hazel puppy dog eyes and a killer body, but he was kind and he was smart. He loved with his whole soul and would do anything for anyone, even after all the shit he had been through.

What hadn’t been easy, however, was just how horny you got every time you even thought of the giant hunter let alone be around him. If he was tracing lines in a book to keep his place, you thought about what his fingers would feel like inside of you. If he was working out, you wondered if he would make those same noises in bed. And worst of all was when he was talking animatedly about something, his entire body came alive with passion and excitement. His eyes sparkled and his smile was always huge. And yet all you could think about was having his face between your thick thighs, talking into your cunt as he feasted.

Needless to say, you had absolutely destroyed your scant collection of toys and taken more cold showers than warm. Eventually, you had to reach your breaking point.

It had been a witch hunt in Arkansas that went slightly wrong. People all around town were suddenly compelled to tell everyone around them their darkest secrets, ruining their lives in the process. It was a pretty simple cut and dry witch who had some vendetta against liars so she was forcing everyone to tell the truth. You and Jody picked up the hunt as some kind of demented girl’s trip and it mostly went off without a hitch. At least until the witch got you with a truth spell right before the sheriff dropped her.

You had arrived back home with your mouth practically sewn shut in an attempt to keep yourself from telling the boys your innermost thoughts until the spell wore off (which Jody assured you that it would be a couple days at most). Claire and Alex already had their fun asking you questions that you could no longer lie in response to, leading to them learning why there’s a bottle of deluded bleach and air freshener in the back of the Impala and the ‘no tequila after midnight’ rule.

Dean quickly discovered your ailment after you bluntly told him that his new orange flannel and grown out hair made him look like an oversized carrot, and he was determined to break you. But unfortunately for him, you were a hell of a lot smarter than him and could find ways to easily distract him.

You and Dean sat across from each other at the library table, eyes locked to each other as you both desperately tried not to blink. A game born out of desperation not to reveal your darkest secrets and childish rivalry but with a month’s worth of laundry on the line, the game was a matter of life or death. Your eyes burned as you struggled to keep them open but you refused to back down now, especially when Dean’s face had begun to turn red with the strain, you knew he was close to breaking.

Then, disaster struck. Right as his eyelids began to twitch with the need to blink, Sam walked into the library wearing a tight white shirt and grey sweatpants and obviously not wearing briefs. Immediately your mouth went dry as your concentration was broken. You didn’t even hear Dean cheer that he won, you just kept looking at his brother who was now browsing the many shelves for something to read.

Dean rubbed at his eyes while glancing at his younger brother before sarcastically remarking. “Looking good Sammy.” Sam responded with a scoff, returning to his search and letting you get a glimpse of his perky backside.

The words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them, spilling out of your dirty mind like an unstoppable river. “Goddamn, how about you bring that perfect ass over here and I’ll tell you how I can make you look even better.” Everyone froze, including you, and then you opened your mouth again. “You’d look hotter with me sitting on your face.”

Silence settled over the bunker, your veins filled with dread. “Oh god please ignore that I said that- well actually, I don’t want you to ignore it. I really do want to sit on your face but right now I really want to throw myself off a cliff. So I think I’m gonna go do that. Have a nice life boys.” You went to slip from your chair but suddenly your wide hips were pinned to the edge of the table but two huge hands.

Sam loomed over you, his eyes dark with lust as he smirked down at you. “Now why would you go and do that when we could test your little theory.” Your breath caught in your throat. He dipped down, bringing his face to yours until you were close enough to feel his breath on your lips.

“I-“ You stammered. Wetness pooled between your thighs as he stepped even closer, pressing his hardening cock to your soft body.

“Oh what is it baby? Can’t speak anymore? Don’t worry, you won’t be able to stop making sounds when my mouth is on your cunt.” He growled into your ear.

Neither you nor Sam noticed when Dean sprung to his feet and ran off into the depths of the bunker to escape the very obvious tension on the brink of exploding between you. Your fingers tentatively curled into his shirt, making his smile grow. “That’s a good girl, now how about you go to my room and get undressed. I wanna see if you get even more beautiful when you’re on top of me.”

——————

Sam had always found you incredibly intoxicating but even more so now. You were dead asleep on his chest, your breaths even as you slumbered on. Sam took pride in your exhaustion considering he was the cause. He gently stroked the soft skin of your hip, tracing over the texture of your stretch marks delicately as to not wake you.

You sighed in your sleep, nuzzling closer to his bare chest. He kissed the top of your head and with a great amount of care, slipped from your hold. You stirred only for a moment before settling once more. He dressed quietly and slipped out of his room.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen drawing him in like a siren. “Morning.” He muttered as he wandered in, shooting his brother a glance. Dean nodded at him from his place at the small table, drinking his coffee silently.

As Sam poured two mugs of the bitter drink, he spoke again. “She was right, you know.” Dean hummed and looked up at him curiously. “I do look better when she sits on my face.”

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ryegarden · 1 year

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get these things off of me!!!! trying to raise £7,500 by July this year so I can get rid of these fuckers by the time I graduate. Big goal! Maybe more possible with help?

[ID: a digital drawing of Frankie, a young white transmasculine person with short bleach blonde hair with dark roots showing. He's drawn in three poses: one standing in a brown sweater and dark grey trousers with a dotted line and scissors drawn over his chest, one sitting cross legged and facing away in brown trousers and a brown t-shirt, and one of the shoulders up, his face in one hand and looking to the side, wearing a flannel shirt over a black roll neck. The image is drawn in neutral brown tones on a grey background with cream coloured sketchy stars, and in the upper right corner in block capitals it reads "let's get Frankie's tits chopped off!". End ID]

#trans art #trans #top surgery #t4t #accessible art #described #wah!

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bbyhellfire · 21 days

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we need more wayne and eddie moments so here is my attempt to fill that void. not the best, but just picture wayne helping eddie before your first date 🥺

"Is that what you're wearing?"

Eddie turns to see his uncle's slightly judgmental eyes. He pulls at the edge of his shirt so he can get a better look at it. This is his best Dio t-shirt. No holes, no bleach stains, and barely smells like smoke.

"What's wrong with it?"

"You-" Wayne sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He should be getting ready for work. "You can't wear a ratty t-shirt on a first date, Eddie."

"For your information, dearest uncle, this is my best shirt! I only wear it for special occasions."

"T-shirts aren't for special ocas - Jesus, hold on." Wayne grumbles, moving to open the drawer in Eddie's dresser where he keeps his extra flannels.

"Here!" He throws a shirt behind him in Eddie's direction. "Button it up, tuck it in your jeans, and put on a damn belt without handcuffs. Show me when you're done."

Wayne keeps muttering about the youth's disregard for first impressions as he pours coffee into his thermos. Moments later, Eddie's door creeks open. "So...how does it look?"

The flannel is a little big, ballooning out from his jeans, but his nephew looks good. He tucked the flannel into his jeans and even swapped out his handcuff belt for a simple black one. The only advice Eddie didn't follow was buttoning the shirt. He leaves a couple buttons undone to allow the top of his Dio shirt to peak through.

Wayne smiles, "You could almost pass for a well-respected member of society."

"Damn, that bad?" Eddie chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck in awkwardness. Eddie doesn't remember the last time he wasn't just in jeans and a shirt. But he makes no move to change back into his usual uniform. Instead, he grabs his keys from the counter. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, then?"

Wayne nods, following Eddie's lead in grabbing his keys and coffee. The pair walk out of the trailer as Wayne says, "I'm expecting a full report, just so you know. Remember to open the door for them and pull out their chair and- "

"Don't interrupt them. I know."

Wayne grunts in acknowledgement, before patting his nephew's shoulder, the closest thing to a hug that he can manage. "Good luck, kid."

Eddie gives his uncle's wrist a quick squeeze, "Thanks, Wayne."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x gn!reader #we need more wholesome wayne and eddie moments #wayne munson #bbyhellfire

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sadhours · 3 months

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scumbag blues • regular john

gator tillman x f!oc

previous chapter • masterlist

cw: 18+ minors dni, drug use, sex work, smut, p in v, angst, Gator is mean but so is Daisy

Gator hates going to the sheriff’s department since his date with Faye went awry. She looks at him differently. But Roy’s insistent he keeps on courting her. And with him being banned by Daisy, Faye’s looking prettier and prettier every day. Though, Gator’s banned, he drives by the inn twice a day. Checking for cars. Daisy’s busy. Always a car he don't recognize or Daphne’s beat up pick up truck. Can only imagine what Daphne says about him. He tried to get with her back in school. Before Daisy was selling herself. Daphne was someone his dad liked and Gator liked how Daphne looked, along with the reasons his dad liked her. Roy encouraged Gator pursuing Daphne and they went on a couple of dates. But then Gator asked a little too much about her best friend, Daisy and Daphne seemed disinterested. Then Daisy started talking to Gator during gym class which embarrassed Gator so he was rude to her. He knew Daphne had gossiped about their dates and felt like Daisy talked to him out of pity.

But Daisy was persistent and well, she was a cheerleader. They winded up at the same parties after games. She’d find her way to Gator and gush about how well he played. Then he got tackled by a motherfucker twice his size and broke his ankle. Daphne signed his cast in big letters that took up a whole half of it. Next thing he knew, Daisy was scribbling all pretty over it, looking up at him with these eyes and he couldn’t get the image out of his head. Jerked off to the thought of Daisy on her knees many, many times. But he was rude to her the whole time, told her to fuck off.

After graduation, Gator was two months into his training for deputy. His dad was hardcore about it. Gator slept four hours a night at most. Chores and training left him little room for anything. But he got away for a bonfire one night on his birthday. He remembers it well. Jason Aldean’s “Big Green Tractor” playing loud on someone’s speaker when it was whispered to him that you could fuck Daisy Way for two hundred bucks. And he’d just got five hundred for graduating from his grandad. Seemed like a good investment, so he set his sights on Daisy and drunkenly waddled over to her.

She was curled up with Daphne at the fire, wearing these low rise, boot cut jeans and a flowy white top. Her hair, bleached blonde in tangles from the harsh North Dakota wind. Stumbled in her boots when Gator extended his hand towards her. They held hands as they walked to his truck, silent after Gator said to her, “Heard a rumor ‘bout ya.”

“What’s the rumor?” Daisy slurred as Gator opened the backseat door of his truck and she settled inside. He stood between her knees, wrapped his fingers around her knees as he gazed up at her. Her eyeliner was smeared, eyes looking as drunk as he felt.

“Heard you’d let me do what I want for two hundred bucks,” Gator slurred back, “That true?”

“Rooster crow in the mornin’?” She hiccuped, face shifted something sultry.

“What?” Gator giggled, not expecting that response.

Daisy giggled in return, hands clutching his flannel, “Yes, Gator, give me two hundred bucks and you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Can I fuck you?” he wondered, hand moving to hold her jaw, brown eyes boring into her blue ones.

“If that’s what you want,” she whispered, “Is that what you want, Gator?”

He shuffled to pull his wallet out, pulls out two crisp hundred dollar bills and offered them to Daisy. She slipped them from his fingers and shoved them in her front pocket, “Fuck me, Gator.”

He moved quickly, getting in the truck between her legs and pushed he on her back. Kissed her filthy while his hands found purchase on her chest, squeezing at the swell of her tits through her bra and shirt. Daisy’s legs wrapped around his waist, hands grabbing the back of head while she kissed him back just as desperately. Writhed underneath him like a pig in mud, grunting and humming like she ain’t ever been happier. Gator believed it, dead set on losing his damned virginity to her. With the doors of the truck wide open, a sight for anyone walking by as he rutted into her, erection straining against his boxers. Daisy’s thighs were as warm as asphalt on a summer day, clenching around him with a vice grip. Gator had to cut the foreplay short ‘cause he damned near blew his load just kissing and dry humping her. It was race between them, shoving jeans and underwear low enough to get the pair of ‘em exposed.

Gator swore he saw her slick coating her thighs. Had to get his hand on her cunt, had to make sure she was just as soaked as she looked, and she was. She gripped his cock, pointed it to her entrance as she whispered about his size against his lips. Gave Gator this ego boost that had his hips jerking forward, sheathing his cock fully inside her in one swift motion. The pair of them moaned in pleasure, Gator was overwhelmed with the sensation. Daisy’s cunt squeezing him so tight and warm and wet, his hips stilled as his face nuzzled against her neck.

“Goddamn, Daisy,” he cursed, face all scrunched up.

“Fuck me,” she whined, rolling her hips as she scratched at the back of his head, “Gator! Your cocks fucking huge, oh my god!”

He bit her neck, trying to restrain his orgasm but it was edging closer and closer, way too quickly. Her fucked out voice made it so hard not to bust. Being inside Daisy weren’t nothing like fucking his own fist. His eyes rolled back in his eyes as he made sounds against her neck that sounded foreign on his intoxicated ears. Her thighs squeezed him something fierce as she tightened her grip on him, fucking herself on his cock. He pulled back, wrapped his hand around her throat as he demanded, “Don’t fucking move, slut. Lay still.”

Daisy whimpered, looking at him with goddamned stars in her eyes as her jaw dropped. She panted, whined, made beautiful sounds Gator could never forget. He was embarrassed by how quick he was about to cum, sure Daisy would run off and tell everyone she just took his virginity for a measly $200. But Daisy kept babbling. Wouldn’t fucking shut up.

“God, Gator! It’s so fucking big, holy fuck—“ she gasped, “feel it in my guts.”

Blew his load then, bare ass clenching as he emptied inside of her. Making a pathetic sound he ain’t ever made before. And Gator couldn’t help but make noise when he came but it wasn’t ever like this. This was the most pathetic he ever sounded in his life, hand gripping Daisy’s throat so tight her voice cut off. Her eyes rolled back in her head but the bitch had the nerve to thrust her hips up at him, milking even more from him and pulling yet another weak moan from him.

“Fuck—“ he let go of her throat as he pulled back. His cock was softening as he slipped it back into his jeans. Daisy didn’t even look disappointed, looked at him like he hung the moon and stars. Sat up as Gator zipped his pants up, grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss.

“Come to the Inn tomorrow,” she begged, licking his lower lip, “Wanna do that again with ya.”

Gator spent all his graduation money on Daisy.

“Good morning, Deputy Tillman,” Faye’s voice shocks him back to reality, pulls him out of the memory that has his dick filling out.

“Mornin’, Faye,” he greeted her, “I gotta check out some evidence, mind handing me the key?”

“Sure,” she replied, turning in her chair to grab it and from this angle, Gator can imagine she’s Daisy. Can imagine her turning around and having them plump lips and bright blue eyes. He’d bend her over the desk, that’s how pent up he is. Wishes he could fuck Daisy in front of every man in Stark County and show them who really owns her. Free of charge. But he sees Faye’s soft brown eyes and the fantasy is shattered.

“Thanks,” he grabs the keys and rushes past her and down the stairs. Makes his way to the evidence room, goes to the narcotics section and files through. Grabs a couple of bags of coke. The lotto ones. A couple of grams nobody’ll miss. Tucks them into his pocket but not after opening one and taking a quick bump, another bump. And then one more. He doesn’t say bye to Faye when he leaves. Finds himself in the cruiser, spills one of the baggies onto the center console. Cuts himself a line and snorts it with a hundred dollar bill, tries not to think about how the Benjamin would’ve winded up in Daisy’s pocket if she hadn’t “banned” him.

Coke fueled, he’s angry. Thinks, how could she fucking ban him. He’s the law. That’s how Gator finds himself at the Inn. No cars outside. Earl ain’t even home. But Daisy is.

“Daisy Tellulah Way,” he calls as he enters the door, “Come out with your hands up, got a warrant for your arrest.”

“Gator, that ain’t funny,” she seethes when she walks out of the kitchen. Gator’s fucked her in there. On the counter while she attempted to prepare breakfast for her pops. Thinks about it vividly as he gazes at her. She’s wearing a simple white dress, satin with lace at the bodice. Could marry her in that dress, he thinks as he looks at her. Kinda wants to drop to his knees and ask, but he ain’t gotta ring and she banned him. She fucking banned him.

“You look good,” he says instead, “Missed you.”

Her face softens at that. Makes Gator’s stomach flip. Makes him think he loves her. Almost drops to his knees again. Then her face hardens.

“I banned you from this place,” she exhales, looks exhausted.

“I don’t like her,” Gator admits, the coke working as a fucking truth serum. “She’s boring and she ain’t as pretty as you.”

Daisy wipes her face with her hand, narrows her eyes at Gator, “You ain’t banned ‘cause you got a girlfriend. You’re banned because you’re attached.”

“How am I attached if I have a girlfriend?” Gator argues.

“You’re here, telling me you don’t like your girlfriend. Gator, seriously, I need you to leave,” Daisy replies.

“Can’t leave,” Gator responds, “Gimme me an hour. I’ll pay whatever you want.”

Daisy scans his face, chuckles condensing as she announces, “You’re high.”

“High on how bad I need ya.”

“High on evidence that’s too easily accessible,” she mutters, “Go home. Jerk off. Forget about me, Gator.”

“‘Member the first time we hooked up?” Gator asks, palms bracing the desk as he edges closer to it.

“The first time you paid me to fuck you, you mean,” she argues and Gator waves his hand.

“I remember the way you looked at me,” he licks his lips, “You liked it. You ain’t ever liked sex before.”

“Sex is my job, Gator. I’m great at looking like I enjoy it,” Daisy retorts, “Leave.”

Gator doesn’t get it. In his recollection of their first sexual encounter, Daisy seemed to like it. He struggles to believe she’s been faking it this whole time. “I’ve made you squirt, hard to fake that.”

“Gator, seriously. Get the fuck out,” she replies, looking demure suddenly. Can’t hold his eye contact.

“Tell me you don’t want me.”

Daisy licks her lips, takes a deep breath before she leans over the desk, “I don’t want you. I never have and I never will. I’m a fucking prostitute, Gator.”

“You didn’t make me pay so many times,” he tries to argue.

Daisy smiles then purses her lips before she speaks again, “Felt bad for you. You’re fucking pathetic. Every god damn penny you make goes to me and I felt bad. But I don’t have any feelings for you. Except disdain. Please, leave.”

Gator sucks on his teeth, digs in his pocket for one of the grams of coke, tosses it on the desk. “Well, you’re good at your job. ‘Cause you had me convinced I fucking meant something to ya,” he swallows, “And yeah, maybe I got attached, maybe I fell for ya. Which makes me a big fat fucking loser. ‘Cause I do better than your fucking, tainted pussy. Can find a girl who hasn’t had every pathetic fuck in this town between her legs. Fuck you, Daisy. Hope you get fucking syphilus and die.”

Gator slams his door on the way out.

#gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fic #gator tillman fargo #gator tillman x oc #gator tillman x reader

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mascindulgence · 2 years

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toxic fugitive roadtrip rubyklaasje tweet has never left my mindscape

image description under read more:

[Image description.The first image depicts Klaasje and Ruby from video game disco elysium standing next to each other with disgruntled expressions. Klaasje has choppy hair that is blonde at the tips and brown at the roots. She has bangs covering one eye and hair tucked behind one ear. She is sporting dark brown combat boots, faded blue jeans, a stained white t-shirt and a brown flannel shirt that is hanging off one shoulder. There is text around her with arrows reading: “badly cut”, “outgrown roots” and “Ruby’s old clothes”. Ruby stands next to her. Her hairstyle is reminiscent from the game but her hair is blonde at the roots with splashes of pink, light blue and purple. She has a blue headset hanging around her neck, a dark grey tank top that is slightly cropped, black fingerless gloves, dark green dungarees with the straps hanging down the sides of her legs and brown hiking boots. Her arms are covered in geometric tattoos and light body hair. She is holding onto the shoulder straps of a backpack. There is text around her with an arrow pointing to her hair reading “badly bleached”. There is text between the two that is pointing with two arrows to the both of them reading: “mutual hatred”. The second image is a screenshot of a tweet from user “yimmygee” with the display name “they got hoes in yharnam?” the tweet reads: “my dream for a disco elysium sequel/epilogue is klaasje and ruby running into each other as fugitives and having the worst sex together in ruby’s hotwired lorry covered in pinup film posters that klaasje keeps slyly mocking while they’re on the most resentful road trip imaginable”. End ID.]

#ruby the instigator #klaasje amandou #disco elysium #rubyklaasje #ruby disco elysium #klaasje disco elysium #miss oranje disco dancer #this tweet has been vibrating inside my head for 4 months i love it so #also an excuse for me to draw gnc klaasje with her fresh new haircut (bad) and fresh new style (out of convenience)#art #my art #nsft

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grannyandgrandpascreations · 1 year

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Sanford and Son's Salvage Yard Distressed Flannel Shirt

This item is for a one-of-a-kind bleached "Sanford and Son's Salvage" flannel shirt. A perfect flannel shirt for any Sanford and Son fan!

CONDITION: All of our flannel shirts are brand new and washed twiced.

FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

#flannelshirt - #grannygrandpascustomcreations - #distressedflannelshirt - #TVsitcom

This item is for a one-of-a-kind bleached "Sanford & Son's Salvage" flannel shirt.

FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.

Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.

Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.

#flannelshirt - #grannygrandpascustomcreations - #distressedflannelshirt - #TVsitcom

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fredwkong · 10 months

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Gateway Drug: Luxury

You frowned at the little box of cigars your boyfriend had given you. “Try them, I promise they’ll change your whole perspective!” he’d said, nearly forcing them into your grasp.

He had decided to take you on a date to the opera for your six month anniversary. Sure, it was perfect for him, he came from a wealthy family and had the right clothes and the right etiquette for all of that. It had been a nightmare for you, showing up in your nicest business casual to sit through four hours of torturous high-pitched screaming. Fuck Wagner.

And then he had had the gall to give you cigars as your gift. You didn’t even smoke! But he had absolutely insisted, and now here you were. With a box of cigars on your dining room table, imported from some Latin American country where the workers were probably paid slave wages.

Well, at least they were free. You could just… keep them for a few days and then surreptitiously throw them away.

The next morning, there was a strange smell hanging in the air when you came out of your room. It was sharp and enticing, and just a little bit bitter. You found yourself craving to taste it as you explored the house, trying to find where it was coming from. Finally, you found yourself looking at the package of cigars on your dining room table. That must be where the scent was coming from.

It couldn’t hurt to try one, right? Your boyfriend did give them to you as a gift. Even though he could be a bit of a snob, you loved him dearly and he usually had your best interests at heart.

You dug up a lighter from the kitchen drawers and looked up a Wikihow article for lighting a cigar. It took a few tries, but you eventually got one trimmed, releasing even more of that rich, sensual smell. Chubbing up a bit in your loose pyjama shorts, you lit the cigar and took a drag on it.

Instantly, you were in love. You would need to thank your boyfriend for putting you onto this. You breathed out a cloud of thick smoke, enjoying the sensation as it filled your nostrils. The smell permeated your skin, and a tan rushed over your face, which slowly reshaped into a rougher, more masculine look. You ran a hand over your bleached buzz cut as you took another drag off the cigar. Yeah, it cost a few hundred dollars a month to maintain, but it was worth it to have that hard-edged look you were going for.

The clouds of smoke you breathed out rushed down your body, enriching your natural smell with the tang of cigar smoke as your muscles bulked up a bit. Nothing too extreme, just enough to show that you paid a good personal trainer and nutritionist to take care of your body. Tattoos also swirled over your darkening skin, beginning just below your jaw—why would you mess with such a perfect face?—and continuing on every inch of your body.

You grinned to yourself as you finished the first half of the cigar. Your boyfriend knew you so well. Sure, you bought yourself these cigars all the time, but it was nice to get something for free once in a while. Trust fund babies like you and your boyfriend were supposed to live it up while making other people pay for it as much as possible.

The thick clouds of smoke you were breathing out nearly obscured your body, they became so thick around your torso and legs. They thickened and transformed your flannel shorts and threadbare shirt into distressed designer jeans and a tailored T-shirt, both so heavily impregnated with the stench of cigar smoke that no amount of washing would get rid of the smell. Not that you washed your clothes that much, enjoying the rich scent of smoke, semen, and BO that you could build up on your body.

You finished off the first cigar and looked around. You knew this was your apartment, but suddenly it looked so… dingy and worthless. Was this how your boyfriend had felt every time he stayed over? There wasn’t even a pool table. It definitely wasn’t up to your standard. You looked longingly at the second cigar, but your bladder needed emptying first.

As you pissed, you looked disparagingly around the little bathroom you’d loved for years. All the thrifted or homemade decor was so tacky, old, and worthless. You deserved all new custom made items. And who needed deodorant or cologne? Between your body and your cigars, you had all the cologne you would ever need. You couldn’t wait to replace this whole place. It would be a pleasure to trash all of it.

The thought had your big Latino cock chubbing up. You decided not to tuck it back into your jeans, and just let it hang out as you headed back to the kitchen. You knew your old self would have been mortified to be showing off his hard on like this with the curtains open, but why not give the neighbours a show? It wasn’t like they could even afford the chain on your belt.

You grabbed your gold-plated phone off the counter. Your previous texts to your boyfriend were a servile, limp-dicked good night exchange full of emoticons. God, you had been such a little bitch. You texted your boyfriend: “Tried your cigars. Come get bred.”

He replied an instant later: “Yes, sir ;)”

You gave your phone a feral grin. So he’d known what the cigars would do, then? Or maybe his memories were changing too. It didn’t matter, you’d thank him all the same. Your dick jumped at the thought.

Idly stroking your hard-on, you grabbed the second cigar. You trimmed it with a confident hand and held it in your mouth to light it. This time, you prowled your apartment, blowing smoke at furniture and fixtures you couldn’t wait to get rid of.

It seemed to work. The smoke cloud obscured your cheap TV surrounded by old game consoles, and when it dissipated there was a state of the art entertainment theatre with a pristine PlayStation in its place. Of course, all a guy like you played was FIFA and Need for Speed. Your threadbare lounging chair was replaced with a premium leather armchair, the smell of smoke and sweat billowing off of it.

The apartment seemed to become bigger, though your memories of whatever shitty little shoebox it had been got hazier as you roamed. You found yourself in the expansive master bedroom, and laid down on the silk sheets to finish your cigar. You kicked off your loafers and sniffed your sweaty unwashed socks. There was a crystal ashtray next to the bed, but you grinned as you tapped ashes onto the bedspread. Cleaning was what you paid the staff to do, after all.

You were just finishing your cigar and contemplating practicing some pool shots in the adjoining entertainment room when the doorman sent you a notification. Your boyfriend was standing in the foyer, looking nervously around at the sleek, masculine decor of your mansion. As you watched the video feed, he wrinkled his nose at the smell of cigars and unwashed Latino musk that you made sure permeated the whole building. What a little bitch, you thought. He’d made you like this, so he could at least show some appreciation.

You buzzed the doorman to let your boyfriend up to your rooms. You fondled your big dick and balls hanging out of your pants as you thought about what you would do to him. There was still one cigar left, after all, and you could do with a rich, cigar-smoking bitch boy to dominate.

#male transformation #smoking tf #latino tf #musk tf #race change #toxic tf #muscle tf #top tf #reality change #mental change #male tf #all fwkong

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slightlyhopefulromantic · 11 months

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a return to the monsters and mommies au designs, this time properly lined and in color! :D posted in the middle of the night just like last time though because i have problems <3 there are some small changes to these designs, but for the most part i was pretty happy with them so this was mostly just to give myself a color reference for them all lol

gonna ramble about small decisions i made below the cut, but its not necessary at all to understanding the designs! just wanna dump my thoughts somewhere :P

for the most part, the kids' designs are the same as i do them for normal canon, but there are some small differences. i've never really done a proper reference for their kid designs either though, so i guess no one would even notice LOL

freeman family: well, firstly - nick's last name is freeman in this au LOL but its easier to refer to him as nick close so people know who i mean as opposed to nicholas foster. usually, i draw nick close with blue hair (i think he goes through a range of colors, but blue is my default), but i do this because he does it to honor morgan. since she is alive here, instead, his default is pink because thats his favorite color to dye it! morgan and nick both have various bead jewelry because i like to have the headcanon that morgan is really into pony bead jewelry; this is also why all of my nick and nicholas designs have the same trans pride necklace, morgan made it for him :] both nick and morgan wear glenn's old clothes, both of them are wearing his shirts in this piece. aaand morgan has subtle heterochromia as a reference to the split timeline! she always has it, it doesnt just magically happen or anything, but its just a small nod to that.

wilson family: its real important to me that grant got his dad's exact coloration except for his gray eyes, which are all carol. why is this important? i dunno! its just interesting to me. also, carol doesnt usually leave her top buttons undone, but upon entering the forgotten realms, she unbuttons it because otherwise her shirt will pop open while she's doing things (to be honest, as a person with a larger chest myself, her shirt probably still pops open but it does help-!). usually i draw grant with a gay pride necklace, but since he doesnt come out pre-forgotten realms in this au, i tragically had to drop it. i miss my rainbow grant. please come home, baby.

oak-garcia family: i always forget to do mercedes's tattoos in my sketches because tbh i never know exactly what to give her. but! but. this time i just went for it. these tattoos arent necessarily set in stone, but i think theyre cute. the tattoo hidden by her skirt is an oak leaf for henry :] her gem necklace is also the same color as his eyes! her skirt is supposed to be, like, tie-dye or maybe more bleach washed, but i dunno how to draw that so whatever. the twins are, like, 100% the same as usual, i just gave sparrow a pink bead necklace instead of the multi-colored necklace i use for my default canon design lol. also, i think i drew the twins slightly too tall here, which is funny because theyre the only ones who are notably shorter than their mom HDFJKGHK

stampler family: i struggled a lot with what colors to give samantha, because i wanted her to have a bright color palette but not anything garish or patterned. originally she was gonna have a white shirt, but then i realized that would make it so all the moms had white shirts and i just couldn't have that LOL so i ended up landing on red for her! it matches with terry junior, so i thought that'd be cute :] terry's design is probably the most different from my default for him? which still isn't a lot but i swapped his dark blue flannel for a black undershirt instead. i cannot explain why i did this. it just felt right in the moment. i gave him a sweet revenge shirt instead of the usual black parade shirt i give him because... well. if you know, you know. and finally, terry gets a little concert admission bracelet!! i always do that, but i just wanted to point it out because i think continuing to wear an admission bracelet for ages after a concert is a very teen thing to do. i always felt so cool doing that in high school hehe

#monsters and mommies au #dungeons and daddies #dndads #morgan freeman dndads #carol wilson #mercedes oak garcia #samantha stampler #nick close #grant wilson #lark oak garcia #sparrow oak garcia #terry jr stampler

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clothingflannel · 10 months

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artbean · 1 year

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reblog so others can vote!

winner from the last poll: metallica t-shirt

help me dress eddie! see the latest version here. *overshirts/vests/jackets/etc will be included in upcoming polls!

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fan art #st fanart #st4 #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn #eddie munson fan art #corroded coffin #eddiecloset #crowdsourcedcloset #st #userkatya #tuserblake #userallisyn #lexidoodledoo #2023

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apoptoses · 1 year

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Armand lived in Venice during the absolute sluttiest period for mens’ clothes and I gotta talk about it.

Anne constantly used Botticelli as a reference for clothes (who was at his peak in the 1470s/1480s) but Armand was in Florence when Savonarola died, which puts him in Venice the late 1490′s. Fashion was moving fast, there was a big moral panic over society falling apart and becoming too secular, and in Venice it was time to let your inner ho out.

The look: Short. Tight. Made of as many expensive scraps as possible.

Let’s get into it.

The words used to describe clothes in TVA have zero basis in reality but were probably chosen because the average reader can picture a tunic easier than they can suss out what a cioppa was. So for quick reference:

Shift: a shirt (made out of linen, unless you want Armand to be the stinkiest boy in Italy. Shirts needed to be white, which meant they were bleached with piss, and ammonia eats away silk. So he could not have worn a silk shirt unless it was never going to be washed and he was happy to run around with pit stains, which would have been horrible). Considered an underwear layer.

Doublet: the renaissance equivalent of your shirt. Wool or silk, either is fine.

Cioppa: a pleated ‘tunic’ worn over your doublet, always sleeveless. Wool or silk.

Gamurra: your coat. Wool or silk.

Hose: pants, always made of wool flannel

So most folks reading probably picture Armand in something like this, ala Botticelli’s time:

Long cioppa, down mid thigh or to the knee, puffy sleeved doublet, not too risque. But this is like 25 years out of date by Armand’s time, and when he goes shopping it’s with a bunch of teenage boys with Daddy’s credit card. Marius, with his ever present Botticelli hard on, might have had them wear this stuff sometimes but this is not what a fashionable boy at the time would go out and buy himself.

Now the dude on the right here:

This is the look.

Doublet? Tight

Cioppa? Short

Ass? Out.

The entire point of the style was to show off your snatched waist and manly thighs and boy did the Venetians do just that.

Also doublets by this period were basically scraps of fabric tied together to show as much shirt as possible. Which was scandalous because your shirt is your underwear, so running around like this was the renaissance equivalent of wearing a sheer shirt with your bright pink bra exposed.

As a little rich boy and Master’s favorite, Armand would have been able to afford the finest linen, so sheer it would have been nearly see-through. Which makes a helluva statement when your doublet was split down the front like this:

His hose would be bias cut wool flannel for maximum stretch and maximum ass sculpting. Until the later 15th century hose were just thigh high stockings, and your doublet had to be long enough to cover your underwear. Now that doublets were being worn cut off at the waist hose had to be joined like modern pants. But how did you keep your junk safely in the trunk?

Enter the pre-cursor to the codpiece, which I mentally refer to as The Dick Flap:

This was a little triangle of fabric, shaped to hold your goods. It tied to the waist at each upper corner. Hose were so tight you couldn’t wear underwear (!) so you just had to tie your flap tight and go about your day. Like the modern zipper, it made for easy access (do with that info what you will)

This was the first time in European history that men just ran around with their full crotch emphasized and on display, so having your doublet so short it just all hangs out was both sexy and shocking to people.

But how did these pants stay up, you wonder?

Your pants would be tied to the hem of your doublet. Which meant that every day, Armand had to have someone lace him into his super tight clothes. I personally headcanon that he and Riccardo helped each other get dressed every day while he was mortal but you can feel your own fantasy on that one.

Another fun trend during the period was having your family emblem or a symbol of your trade embroidered on the sleeve of your gamurra:

Which Marius would have taken full advantage of, and put his fleur de lis in pure gold thread on every gamurra Armand had.

Here’s some more fashion fit pics just for fun:

Fleur de lis branding on the gamurra and the hose? Marius would have been into it.

The tied on sleeves! The shift pulled out of every seam! The renaissance man ass everywhere!

A plump and juicy young man indeed.

Anyways I hope this was useful or inspirational, or at least makes your next reread of the Vampire Armand more fun. Because the clothing descriptions in there don’t even begin to touch the painted on fashion fantasy that was going on in 1490s Venice.

(also if anyone really, really wants to see details on what Armand would have seen when he put on his clothes, I’m making a 1490s fit with all historically correct methods right now and I can post some of that if there’s interest)

#is it any surprise every living being in venice wanted to bang it out with amadeo when he was wearing all of *that*?#this is probably the nerdiest and most pedantic thing i will ever post #i refuse to feel shame #i hope this inspires some really slutty fanart #or some fic of someone lacing armand into his clothes #i need to edit my lestat/armand fic or i'd just write it myself lmao #armand #marius de romanus #the vampire armand #the vampire chronicles

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