#hes just a sweet baby

[stateofdreaming14]

Wei Ying coded post tbh

You know, when I see fictional characters who repress all their emotions, they're usually aloof and very blunt about keeping people at a distance, sometimes to an edgy degree—but what I don't see nearly enough are the emotionally repressed characters who are just…mellow.

Think about it. In real life, the person that's bottling up all their emotions is not the one that's brooding in the corner and snaps at you for trying to befriend them. More often than not, it's that friendly person in your circle who makes easy conversation with you, laughs with you, and listens and gives advice whenever you're upset. But you never see them upset, in fact they seem to have endless patience for you and everything around them—and so you call them their friend, you trust them. And only after months of telling them all your secrets do you realize…

…they've never actually told you anything about themselves.

[bruciemilf]

More thoughts about cigarette mom! Thomas and Bruce HERE WE GO—

I just. I love mean dad Thomas, man.

Not mean in a way that makes Bruce feel small and worthless and insignificant, no, —

Mean in the sense of refusing to sugar coat and coddle because this is Gotham, and he can’t.

“Bruce I am NOT buying you that dumbass squeesh-mellow bullSHIT. Cause it’s 300 bucks, that’s why! We’re rich, not STUPID. You want it so bad, how about getting a JOB.”

Bruce is 5 years old and 4 feet of nothing and every inch his mother, which is why he could swallow the universe whole, Alfred thinks,

“I’m too CUTE for a job!”

“Well, babe, you can either be cute, or you can be broke. When you choose, let me know.”

Bruce’s first job was being Martha’s model for paintings, bringing Thomas his Budlights after long nights at the hospital, and taste tasting for Alfred.

I feel like baby Bruce was such a brat and Alfred is trained for inhuman composure. It’s kinda like watching a baby kitten try to use claws they don’t have. “Are you ready to count to 10 now?”

Thomas, not even looking up from his newspaper, “Bruce! Boy, you better listen to Al if you wanna keep your teeth, you hear me?!”

Baby Bruce called the CPS on Thomas MULTIPLE times but it’s always been for like. Dad smoked in the house again even if mommy said not to and it bothers my dolls.

[mydairpercabeth]

One of the many things that had me sobbing in the show is how they made Zuko’s fleet the 41st division. Meaning the division he spoke up for, the division that earned him his scar, is the division he was assigned for his goose chase. Imagine how heartbreaking it is. AND THE TEAM DIDNT EVEN KNOW HE DID THAT FOR THEM. MY BOY WAS ALWAYS GOOD!!!

[hikeyzz]

draining his balls making him cum over and over again just so he'll pass out and finally get a good night's sleep >>>>

[nyao-mi]

NOT MY ASTARION BRAIN ROT CONTINUING CUS LIKE i just got the scene where he literally says he misses seeing his face and that like he wishes he knew what he looked like and i??? WANTED SO BADLY FOR IT TO BE AN OPTION TO DRAW HIM

LIKE IMAGINE STARING AT HIM ACROSS THE BONFIRE, watching the way the light dances across his pale skin. youve been through hard times and one of the things you've learned to get through it was to draw

at first, you loathed the fact that you had to paint rich people for mere couple pieces of gold when you knew your art was worth more than that. you loathed even more that they'd upturn their posh noses at you and scoff when, truly, they knew what a treasure your art was.

now, seeing astarion, the way his white hair seemed to almost form a halo around his head, reflecting the moonbeams that graced his body, watching as he crossed his legs and meditated; you knew that you didn't regret a single second of the trials and tribulations that led you to this point.

you could finally put this agonizing skill to use. you could draw him.

and so you scrounged up some paper, an ink well, a quill; all things you'd pocketed during your adventures with the rather willful vampire.

you sat there, nib of the quill scratching against the parchment.

your art was nothing compared to the paintings you'd done before; these were mere lines and ink blots. you wished you could truly show him how beautiful he was through water color or pastels. instead, trapped in a land you barely knew, all you could do for him was this.

he had his eyes closed, of course, so you drew them from memory. strikingly red, like rubies, like blood. you didn't forget his crow's feet; you loved the way they wrinkled when he laughed. you shaped his lips, soft but rough from years of bite and chew, and formed it into his infamous mischievous grin.

his hair always seemed unruly but, drawing it now, it felt like drawing gorgeous chaos; there was an order to it, the way the bangs fell across his forehead, the way the sides feathered in front of his ears and curled behind them.

when you stopped, you realised you'd drawn him over and over, across several pieces of parchment.

the way he frowned and his fangs would glance across his lips. the way he'd look confused and his eyebrows would furrow. the way he'd look longingly at the stars, mind distant and eyes almost empty, like he'd made so many wishes that were never granted by the cosmos.

you never liked tooting your own horn but you felt like you truly captured him.

so, you took your pieces of paper, all drawings of him, dozens of them, small and sketchy; you took it all and you sat beside him and spread them out in front of you.

it took him a second to realise you were there. he'd been letting his guard down recently, especially when you were on watch duty, and it took you laying your head across his shoulder for his eyes to flutter open.

he opened his mouth, like there had almost been a retort slipping off his tongue, but the sight of your drawings stopped him.

he let out a ragged breath, eyes flickering across all of them. his clawed hands hovered in the air, trembling, as if taking a hold of the drawings would make them crumble under his touch.

and perhaps, in his head, he really believed they would.

'darling,' he'd call you, his voice wet with unshed tears 'what's all of this?'

of course he'd still joke. it was how he coped with things. he joked to hide how he truly felt and, of course, you were always there to understand.

'it's you,' you answered a matter-of-factly, as if you hadn't just turned this vampires world upside down 'its you the way i see you.'

and that's what makes him crack. because maybe, since you were the one that drew all of it, you hadn't noticed. but he noticed.

he noticed all the love and devotion you spilled across the page. every single detail, every single stroke, it was all from love.

and as someone who had never been on the receiving end of it, astarion cracked and he hid his face into your neck and he cried.

they were soft sobs, almost unnoticeable. but he cried nonetheless.

he cried for his past that he'd lost under his sadistic master, he cried for his difficult present that seemed impossible to escape, and he cried for this hopeful future you seemed to lay out in front of him.

he cried because he didn't realise that he had this much hope left inside of him. because he didn't know what else to do in the face of your devotion.

you just sat there, humming and rubbing his back, ignoring the way his arm wrapped around your waist, claws digging into your skin as if you'd disappear in front of him if he didn't hold on to you as tightly as possible.

[maybebi47]

so you're telling me that fabian, after finding himself all alone in that huge mansion, instead of dwell on it and sink into his sorrow, decided to turn the main hall into a study hall for his friends and any other students that need a comfortable place to study? free of charge?

im.

no yaeh im fine.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 291

You know what? I’m feelin’ a Prompt with the whole halfa family, all the clones and everything. 

See, Danny? He’s grown up, he’s moved out, started looking at colleges himself after spending a few years travelling and learning about himself without the threat of a ghost attack. 

He’s kept in touch with his friends, both living and dead, and ignores Vlad for the most part now that they’ve reached a truce of sorts, and honestly? He’s just living his life. 

But see, it’s kind of hard to figure out what college to pick, with his admittedly not-great choices. Look, he might have a new-ish ID but he’s still visibly not exactly human (though thankfully doesn’t have to worry about the GIW after a… summer activity that ended with several missing buildings) 

And most people he goes to? Finds him ‘too unsettling’ which excuse him?? How is he unsettling? He’s a twenty-five year old with six kids ranging from one to six! How is that “scary” huh? Ancients, and all this is making him use the cash he’s saved up over time. 

And then- as though all of this isn’t stressful enough and he’s not genuinely worried that he won’t have enough money to feed the kids if he goes to school- a hero nearly trips over Jordan and starts freaking out. He is so fucking done. 

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

An adorable photo of Vincent Price on the beach with his young daughter, Victoria, circa 1965

[habunshu]

小小悟空。。。baby monkey wukong to me….. (link)

[laikataru]

Painting practice!

[raiiny-bay]

Love, Dhes

Parker,

It's unfair how time with you feels so short. How the last 10 years have felt like no time at all. I like to think there are other versions of us out there, somewhere. Maybe in another timeline, another universe. I like to think we find each other no matter where we are or what we're doing. That we're together and happy and I get to love you in a dozen different lifetimes. That's what I hope, anyway. And I hope when this lifetime ends, we get to start over and do it all again. Because once just isn't enough. Not for me. Not with you.

I hope the next 10 years pass slower.

Love, Dhes

[bruciemilf]

I can’t explain, it but Thomas Wayne should be a cigarette mom

God help you if you cross this man at 4 in the morning at a Krispy Donut parking lot cause his cat of a child chased a rat. Voice sounding like a broken car motor, but like. Sexy. “The hell are you lookin’ at?! God damn it— BRUCE. Take that outta your mouth.”

[christakisbang]

[here-comes-the-moose]

Crosshair, bitter youngest child: Are we seriously going to let Hunter keep Omega?

Tech, not looking up from his work: We let you keep Echo.

[almondpiglet]

needed to draw something this year for tomes bday...really wanted to draw her highschool friends

[egophiliac]

What was your favorite of the flashbacks in Silver’s walk?

the acorn bracelet is VERY good, but I really really love Malleus humming (hummalleus? hummus?) to Silver. especially now that the song has Context. >:) we are in a soup of angst and I'm here with a spoon in each hand and a silly straw that leads directly to my brain.