#clothes don’t fit

[perplexingly]

Text is from Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Eurypides

[turtleblogatlast]

I honestly love the clothing styles of each of the turtles in this show and I love how these styles really incorporate their personalities as well.

Like, obviously Donnie has the best sense of style, yeah? Think that’s something pretty agreed upon here. Everything we see him put together is very meticulously crafted and clean. That goes with his personality because Donnie is a very meticulous person in general, and he knows what he likes very, very well, and knows how to flaunt it in turn. Him commenting on colors he enjoys or disapproving of outfits that the others see no problem with also shows how he just generally has an eye for this kind of thing. He doesn’t just know what looks good on himself, but also what looks good on others - and I think this ties into his love of gift giving too. Donnie also has a flair for making sure that his things have his “mark” on them, and his clothing is no exception. All that he wears and how he wears them screams “Donnie.”

Mikey is really fun because his styles are honestly a pendulum between super simplistic and incredibly out there. And often, you’re going to see a lot of color or patterns to both. And in my opinion I think that all reflects really well on Mikey’s character - he’s got a colorful personality but even more than that he’s incredible sure of who he himself is. Mikey’s style, I feel, is less what looks good as clothes and more what sparks joy in Mikey himself. His bright stickers he wears are a testament of that! He’s comfortable in his own skin and his style reflects this perfectly, whether he goes for a more out-there look or a more toned down one.

Now, for Leo. Okay, I think I’m actually in the minority here I feel because Leo’s style isn’t really that bad? Hear me out- if you actually look at what he wears, try taking out, like, one accessory. Suddenly, that outfit works! He even manages to put together many good outfits in the series, but his “bad” ones are the ones that tend to stand out, alas (just like how his mistakes tend to be big ones oop-) Basically, my personal look at him is not that he’s inept at styling at all, but that he has a “too much” gene. And like everyone else, this sense of style is completely like him, too. Going too far to impress when all he needed to do was slow it down some to think things through. (And funnily enough, a lot of his outfits take random aspects from his brothers too - “nothing without them” huh?)

For Raph, I feel bad for him since pretty much all of his clothes are inevitably going to be ripped, but he makes them work pretty much each time. Like Leo, Raph tends to go more sporty with his looks, but I also noticed that his stuff often goes in that in between of comfy, cool, and cute. His pajama suit in particular comes to mind in terms of “cute” as it’s more something you’d see younger children in rather than older kids, and I think it can be a subtle nod to the fact that for all Raph tries to seem older, he’s still just a kid too.

I could probably go on, but these are just all off the top of my head - I love how the boys’ personality’s come out in so many different ways.

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

jason healing his inner child by going to dicks apartment, leaving all his doors and cupboards open, stealing his clothes and then leaving.

[fizzytoo]

all i have to say is... hairy butch lesbian werewolf

[theoneringpop]

He didn’t know she had been captured, he was probably pretty sure she was dead. It’s not a new brooch, he’s worn it in other episodes.

Elrond, pal, you just have a lock pick built into your brooch?

[blaithnne]

Never have I ever seen three members of a gay friend group dressed like they’re going to the same event

[infinitegest]

Do you know what I want? I was to be so big and pregnant that even the biggest maternity clothes fit like a crop top. Then have you parade me around in the too small clothes, showing the world just how pregnant you made me.

it’s actually pretty goofy— all those maternity clothes we bought in anticipation of how big you’d get are nowhere close to covering your belly button, so much fabric bunched up or laying oddly flat around the upper hemisphere of your gravid tummy. meanwhile, your cute tops from before i knocked you up… i mean, they don’t cover any more skin than the maternity stuff at this point, but at least they look intentional about showing off how massively swollen with my babies you are.

honestly, if your belly was meant to be covered up, then i’m sure they would have made shirts your size. the world deserves to see how magnificently fertile you are, and how readily your belly has grown for me.

[yaralulu]

i know we always joke about what happened to all the money lucien made in spring as emissary but do yall think when tamlin sent lucien all his belongings he also sent him all that money ����?

knowing him he probably did and that for some reason makes me wanna throw up a little.

[bewitching-666]

also my basic ass outfit for the movies✌🏻

[kacievvbbbb]

On a regular day in a suit Sanji looks amazing.

But the moment dude off the clock? When he hangs up his suit for the day? All bets are off. He starts dressing like a middle aged father taking his family on vacation.

It’s even more atrocious in the movies. Why do they got my man in a shirt with a print on tie in stamped.😭😭😭

Look at this. Look at these combinations.Have him looking like he shop at the same vacation store as garp. Some of these look like he just got off a hard day at his 9-5.

Like What are we doing here babe? What were the choices, what were we going for.

I’m trying to trust the process but even process don’t trust you.

Because Look at this they put my man in; a Hawain shirt hoody???? When everyone else got that thing on?

He could have literally chosen anything and he choose a neon orange short sleeve Hawain print hoodie and shorts.

Don’t ever ask me to trust the process again.

[rynnerie]

The Flower-Crowned Martial God, Xianle

[geminison]

Wood carving and killing people both require knife skills. And both tend to leave marks

[thedevildeer]

He lit a candle for him to help him recall the memories. The way their eyes don’t leave each other is insane 😩😭 (Extended version)

[monstersteam]

 ☠️ For Gordon?

Attire and accessories is a bit more challenging with engines outside of a hat and neckwear so I also drew the “Sodor Monsterverse” version of him to get the whole shebang of how the outfit would look

[infinitegest]

poppy here, @widenmyhips but thinking about your risky sex post, and how in the months that follow (as the wedding gets closer) I deny that I’m pregnant or gaining weight until I get to the aisle, and realize I’m heavily pregnant in a dress that’s three months too small

the risky post in question

It’s your own damn fault for getting engaged to a witch, honestly.

I mean, I prefer “occultist,” but I study magic all the same. A while ago, before we got engaged, you said something cheesy like “You can cast a spell on me any time you like.”

So it was with a completely clear conscience that, that winter, I rigged the mistletoe over our bedroom door with a fertility rune. As we started making out after coming home from a party, pulling hungrily at each other’s clothes, I felt warm waves of energy washing over us as thick as the snow falling outside our window, and knew it was working when the thought of using protection never seemed to cross your mind. We had done some breeding dirty talk on previous nights, with you begging for me to knock you up, but tonight you were speechless, letting your body completely take over.

It also didn’t seem to cross your mind that, in eight months’ time, we’d have an appointment with an altar.

Even as I brought you to climax after screaming climax, your legs locked around me, I was thinking about it, and how beautiful you would look walking down the aisle. Especially because of this night.

I was also planning ahead, of course.

Designing a spell can be damn difficult, you know? If I wanted to keep a secret from the whole world, I could simply bury it deep enough for the bedrock to hide away, but to make sure you were the only target… well, I got creative.

A few weeks later, when you were resting in bed after an exhausting morning with a mysterious stomach bug, I brought you breakfast. Nothing fancy, scrambled eggs and poppy seed muffin. You ate gratefully, and any sneaking suspicions you had about your morning sickness disappeared.

There were so many times I was tempted to lift the spell. For instance:

When you started complaining that your bras weren’t fitting quite right. You couldn’t put your finger on what was wrong, of course, tho anyone else could tell you were spilling out of them. I quietly noted that you hadn’t complained about your pants not zipping up, nor your shirts getting tighter and tighter around your midriff. Your fast-swelling abdomen was officially a total blind spot for you.

The first time one of your friends brought it up. I’ll never forget the look of complete bemusement they gave me when you told them they needed to stop or you might start to think they were insulting you. I simply shrugged. The conversation continued a little awkwardly, as they continued glancing down at your bloated belly, clearly bulging out from under a poorly fitting tank top. It was around this time I started wondering how many you were carrying, because one was out of the question.

Shortly after that, when a stranger asked to feel your belly. You ranted angrily for more than an hour after that. I have to admit, I surreptitiously recorded several minutes of you pacing back and forth, incensed, completely oblivious and denying the clear truth that you were big enough to be well into your third trimester, despite being not quite past month five.

“How could he ask that? What a total creep! I’m not pregnant! I don’t even LOOK pregnant!”

The Desk Moment. God, I'm so glad I got that one on camera too. I walked you to class, and watched as you tried sitting at one of the cheapest desks the university could afford. No matter what, there was no way to squeeze your swollen roundness into that gap. You turned to look at me, a look of pure, adorable bewilderment on your face as you struggled to rationalize what was happening. Your blind spot was getting too big (just like you!)

Finally, one night, as we were enjoying your new hormones, moaning and grinding on each other--

"Get me pregnant," you whimpered needily, "Give me a big, growing belly..."

I grinned, murmuring into your neck and gently rubbing the great curve of your belly. "But I already did."

You paused, pulling back slightly. "What the hell are you talking about? I think I would have noticed if you had," you said with a snort.

“Are you sure about that?” I said, guiding one of your own hands to the burgeoning girth of your pregnancy, right on a spot where movement bulged under your taught skin. “You’re so bloated with my babies that you look ready to pop, and you’ve still got two months left to grow. I’m pretty sure it’s triplets.”

You quietly, absentmindedly caressed the rippling surface of your belly, brow furrowing for a second, before giggling. “You’re cute when you get baby-hungry. I’m not pregnant, silly.” You pressed yourself against me again, as well as you could with your immense blindspot in the way. As you nibbles on my bottom lip, I reveled in how much softer you were, how much more you there was for me to hold.

“You’re so pregnant…”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

And so it continued.

Each time, the temptation to open the little safe I kept hidden away was so strong, to see the look of realisation on your face. But a better time would come.

Your wedding dress fitting was almost farcical. The tailor, usually professional to a fault, completely short-circuited when you told her that no, you didn’t want the dress to have any extra space, nor were you planning on losing a lot of weight in the next few months, you’d like it tailored to fit you exactly as you are now, thank you very much. Once again, as she turned to me for an explanation, I simply shrugged and smiled, watching you study yourself in the mirror. You were absolutely glowing with joy.

Finally, the Big Day.

People who know me well know I don’t always show excitement, no matter how much I’m feeling it, so it wasn’t necessarily a surprise to anyone that, as we waited for you, I was casually leaning against the altar, hands in the pockets of my dress suit.

You stepped out, and took my breath away.

You were so beautiful. And the greatest tragedy of all was that you didn’t know how beautiful you were. So, it was at that point, as you were a third of the way down the aisle, that you heard a distinct, peculiar cracking sound.

Seven months ago, when I made you breakfast, it was probably the greatest working of kitchen witchcraft I’ve ever accomplished. Simple: eggs for fertility, poppies for forgetfulness. But before making it, I cautiously emptied the egg without breaking the shell, then sealed the shell with wax and etched a series of sigils on its delicate surface. Since then, it’s been sitting undisturbed in my safe, siphoning away and storing every thought you’ve had about your own fertile state.

Except, today, the egg was no longer in the safe. It was in my pocket.

And now, with that cracking sound, you feel every thought, every memory that’s obscured for the last seven months, hit you in full force. You remember outgrowing your clothes, you remember trying to squeeze into your desk, you remember all the strange comments and aches and how difficult it it’s become to walk anywhere.

You remember that night, when we argued and joked and wrestled over how pregnant you were, how pregnant you weren’t. And now, meeting my gaze, seeing my smile, you realize I’ve won the argument.

You look down, and all you can see is belly.

The dress was made for a pregnant person, yes, but the tailor had no way of knowing how big you were going to get over the next three months. You’re, quite frankly, too pregnant. This gorgeous piece of fabric craftsmanship that, a year ago, would have reached the floor, is now bursting at the seams trying to cover your boobs, your ass, your wide baby-making hips, barely falling far enough past your gigantic belly to keep you decent for our assembled wedding crowd.

The crowd is tense— you let out a gasp before staring down at your fit-to-burst belly, and I think more than one of our friends were already prepped to call a hospital— but you take a deep breath (your dress gives off a quiet rip), lock eyes with me again, and continue walking forward, hyper conscious of how much your belly sways as you do so. A few seconds ago, your heart was beating out of your chest because you’re about to get married, but now, your blood is pumping with confusion and embarrassment.

You step up to the altar. Seeing you framed against the floral decorations, you really do look like a blossom gone to fruit. You look so full and round with babies, so perfectly ripe, I feel like I could take a bite out of you. The officiant starts droning.

“What did you do?” you ask in a hushed but panicked tone.

“Are we going to have a little argument at the altar? Ooh, this is just like that scene in The Incredibles!”

“Shut up!” you hiss, even more frantic, your chest and belly both heaving with your breath. “What did you do to me?!”

I continue to smile the most loving, sweep-you-off-your feet smile, but you can see a glint of something sharper, more mischievous.

“Exactly what you asked me to do. You asked me to cast a spell on you, and you said you wanted to get pregnant. I gave you both in a neat little package. Well, a neat big package.”

“You fucking—”

“It’s you, you’re the package. Because you’re so big.”

“I’m gonna kill you—“

I snort. “I’d love to watch you try. Watch you try to chase me around. I’d probably have to step in to keep you from hurting yourself, since you’re so heavy with my babies. Aren’t you?”

“…”

“C’mon, say it for me. Admit it.”

You pause for a long moment. Then, in the quietest squeak I can barely hear: “I’m pregnant. I’m so fucking pregnant, it’s so heavy, oh my god—“

I lean over, making sure you can hear as I say, “And isn’t it a shame you missed out on so much of this? Don’t you think you need to experience it all in its entirety?”

You look up at me, realizing what i’m insinuating, realizing what we’re going to be doing the moment you pop, the moment your body is ready to start growing again. And, with two little words, you seal your fate.

[lucydacusgirl]

You absolutely can tell when clothes are bad quality but like. Where are you meant to buy clothes that are good quality.