#his thoughts are so loud

[paul-simon-juggling]

Today I bring you the "Paul losing his fertility" gifset.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

graph

bonus:

[sunburstsandmoonshadows]

Really enjoyed @cyphertronix's Game Changer/Gravity Falls art, so

...and then I started thinking about "Like My Coffee", so here are some of those:

[emmcfrxst]

jason todd swears like a sailor whenever you ride him. the visual of your body on top of his, the feeling of your hands on his chest and your cunt fluttering around him, the sweet sounds of your moans and mewls— everything about getting ridden makes jason’s dick hard and turns his brain to mush

[poolseason]

i don't want to be left out, so i come here too sometimes.

[melit0n]

One of the lines that caught my eye in Emergence was "So tell me what you meant by 'living past your half life'?" In chemistry, a "half life" is the time it takes for a substance to decay to half of its original mass.

Further, half lives are also prominent in physics, specifically, nuclear physics. It has the same definition—amount of time taken for a nuclei to half itself—but is, as its name suggests, focused on how much useful energy is produced via the decomposition.

This also links in with the later lyrics of "space dust for your fuel rods." Fuel rods are used in the control of a nuclear decay reaction within a nuclear power plant. This could be interpreted as either Vessel's lack of autonomy, or Sleep losing dominion.

If it's anything to note, "space dust" can also be radioactive.

So, with this all in mind, living past a half life is, in its basics, working towards rot. Existing as a dead man walking and overtly aware that you are.

To me, this could be in reference to Sleep. It's been emphasised that, while Sleep is one of the oldest Gods, He is a forgotten one; kept alive by rituals and those who are beckoned by song to follow Him. Aka, kept alive and powerful by Vessel.

Sleep has long since lived past His so called "half life," and, in toe, He is, therefore "well versed in the afterlife."

While I don't think it works as well, mainly because I consider the majority of this song to be Vessel having a go at Sleep, instead of vice versa, this could be applied to Vessel as a mouthpiece, too, posing the question of; how long until your humanity disapears? How long does it take until you pass your half life, and begin to speak and see only that which bloodless and broken creatures do?

How long until you aren't even you anymore?

And, when that change happens, which it will, eventually, will you emerge and become "someone new," or stay as you were?

[cimmerian1275]

He is pondering something

Sometimes i regret how detailed my sketches are when i gotta hide it all for lineart/finished work later :C

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Florist's Least Favorite Holiday

Steddie || wc: 1.7k || rating: T || tags: fluff, this is a real thing that happened to me so I wrote about it

Valentine’s day is fucking awful. It’s the worst day of the year, and this year’s no different than the last five Valentine’s days Eddie’s worked in the floral shop.

Eddie’s stripped the thorns from over a thousand roses in the past two weeks, sorting them into buckets by color. The best part about his job is usually bringing a design to life, picking the perfect flowers to create an arrangement like a work of art. Yet somehow, Valentine’s day manages to suck the life out of that too, with little to no creativity between each one-dozen red roses arranged in a fake crystal vase.

Prepping over a month in advance, Eddie has taken almost four hundred orders for pick-up and delivery for the tiny, backwater town of Hawkins. They’re a small shop, with only himself, Chrissy, and Vickie as permanent workers. Thankfully, this year they were able to hire some temporary helpers to blow up balloons, make candy baskets, and take deliveries. Even with the help, that still leaves everything else to the three of them.

Regardless, he’s busting his ass. The newbies have left for both rounds of morning deliveries and the first round of afternoons. Chrissy’s working the counter while Vickie fields complaints. This leaves Eddie to wander the floor, helping confused husbands and boyfriends find the right pick for their spouses.

Working with customers to find something they’re happy with isn’t so bad. He likes guiding them towards answers to questions they didn’t think to ask. Like what their spouse wears, how their home is decorated, what their favorite color is. Every detail helps, and Eddie is, quite genuinely, always happy to help someone who asks– nicely.

He’s on his way back to the counter with an empty bucket in his arms when he spots a guy holding a few roses. Eddie watches, momentarily transfixed, as the man sticks his tongue out in concentration, swiping it over his lower lip. His brow’s furrowed, glancing back and forth between the single-stem lavender and pink roses in the display case in front of him. 

Eddie can’t blame the guy, honestly. There’s over twenty different colored roses to choose from this year. Chrissy really went above and beyond to haggle with their suppliers. They’ve got the best of the best, truly something to brag about. 

He sets the bucket down underneath a display table so it’s out of the way as he heads over to help. Eddie must catch his attention.

Bright lights from the display case reflect the light hazel tone to his russet colored eyes and shines golden against his softly styled brown hair. A fine dusting of moles across his face and neck perfectly complement his tanned skin.

The prettiest thing in a shop full of pretty things. A goddamn angel.

Except he’s wearing high-top Nike sneakers like the jocks used to wear, along with tight acid-washed jeans, and a grey Members Only jacket. The guy screams straight, ex-jock, fuck boy, even more evident by the two separate roses in his hand as he eyes up a third. 

Still, he’s a customer in need. And Eddie is nothing if not a humble servant.

“Can I help you find something?” Eddie asks, only slightly more casual and flirty than his typical customer service voice. 

The man’s lips part into a soft ‘oh’ as he stands and stares at him. Eddie quickly glances down at himself, scanning for stray stems or petals hanging from his apron. There’s nothing there, at least nothing worth gawking at. Maybe he’s got something in his teeth? Shit, he should’ve checked first.

“Uhh–,” the man says, intelligently, interrupting Eddie’s own internal spiral– “I was just looking at, you know.” He gestures to the buckets of roses without taking his eyes off Eddie. “I need one more, and can’t decide on a color.”

“Three roses, huh?” Eddie says, the joke rolling off the tip of his tongue before his mortified brain can prune it, “One for each girlfriend, that’s sweet of you.”

Fucking Christ. He wishes he’d kept the bucket of water to drown himself in, like this day can get any worse.

This beautiful, angel of a man scoffs at the unbecoming joke and yeah, Eddie can’t blame him. For someone who not only prides himself on his customer service skills, but also his charm, this is a royally large fuck up.

The man grabs the lavender rose, holding it out to Eddie along with the two other pink and white ones already in his hand. “This is for my best friend. This one–” he holds out the pink– “is for my adopted sister.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, before the guy cuts him off.

“And this one–” he shows off the white rose– “is for my Gran. I’m stopping by the cemetery on my way home and thought she’d like it.”

Forget drowning in a bucket of leaf water, Eddie deserves to be crushed under the weight of a million roses, thorns tearing him into tiny little pieces. 

“Right,” Eddie huffs, annoyed with himself. He scrubs his hands roughly over his face, like he can erase the embarrassed flush burning up his neck to the tips of his ears. “I’m so sorry, man. I have no idea why I said that. It’s just–” Eddie waves his hand around the store– “it’s been a long day, and sometimes I think I’m funny when I’m really, really not. I’m not normally this awkward, and I’m typically much better at my job.”

At this, the guy smirks, like watching Eddie squirm is entertaining. It’s the least he can do, if his misery makes the man feel better. He eyes Eddie up and down, so slowly that Eddie feels like his skin's on fire. Probably the display lights... they can really heat up some days.

“Can you ring me up?”

Eddie nods, thankful how quickly he seems to let the entire confrontation go. They make their way to the counter, Chrissy eyeing him as he asks her to switch for a second. She eyes the customer and nudges Eddie, where he notices a playful smirk on her face. Jesus, she’s nosey. He only rolls his eyes as she walks off.

Doing his best to avoid eye contact, Eddie focuses solely on wrapping up the flowers in the pretty, heart-printed paper they bought specifically for the day, and ties a matching colored bow to each package.

He feels the unrelenting urge to fix this, unsure why it matters so much to him. This guy most likely won’t even be back until next year, just like the rest of the customers he’s helped today. Eddie shouldn’t treat this one customer any different because he’s cute.

And yet.

“I actually think you’re really sweet!” Eddie blurts, thrusting the packaged roses into the guy’s waiting arms. “Shit, I meant it’s sweet you’re buying them gifts. I didn’t mean you’re sweet. Not that you’re not sweet, I mean– goddamnit.” 

He’s smiling at Eddie, like this is all an adorable spectacle and not the worst experience of every Valentine’s day Eddie’s ever had. God, that fucking smile makes Eddie’s insides melt.

“Really?” His voice is playful, if yet a little shy. Eddie buys into it, of course he does, desperate to make up for his flailing. 

“Yeah, definitely sweet– adorable, even. Positively charming.” Eddie’s on better footing now, watching a rosy blush bloom underneath tanned freckles. There’s a line of customers grumbling about the wait, but Eddie doesn’t care, not so long as he gets to keep staring at the ray of sunshine smiling back at him.

His smile turns coy as he locks eyes with Eddie and says “I’m single, you know."

Eddie can’t think to respond over the roaring static in his ears, brain going into full shut-down mode. Did he just–

“What?” And Eddie’s back to being a total buffoon.

It must be cute though, because the guy laughs as he leans forward to grab one of the shop’s business cards next to the register. He writes something on it, then hands it back to Eddie who flips it around in his hands to read it.

Call me, and thanks for your help.

♥️ Steve

There’s a phone number listed below the man’s– Steve’s– name. An actual, honest to god phone number. From a man who looks like he could work in Hollywood for a living. 

Eddie can feel his own face splitting in two with how hard he’s smiling. He reads the simple note once, twice, three times before he remembers where he is and who’s still standing in front of him.

Steve looks hopeful, eyes flitting between Eddie and the note as he fiddles with the bow on one of the packaged roses. 

“Yes,” Eddie practically shouts, glee saturating his tone. “I’ll definitely call you tonight. Well–” Eddie glances around the shop, spotting the scattered empty buckets, piles of dead leaves on the ground, and the stack of unprocessed delivery tickets– “maybe I’ll call you tomorrow.”

And Steve nods, like it’s that easy, and shyly answers, “Can’t wait,” before heading out the door, sending a dorky little wave over his shoulder as he goes.

Somehow, Eddie manages to recover enough of his higher brain power to work the rest of the day. He falls back into routine: boxing vases, filing orders, dumping rotten plant water, scrubbing buckets, and organizing the back cooler. It’s almost midnight by the time he gets home, slightly earlier than he expected.

His feet ache like they always do, and he’s so emotionally drained that Eddie thinks he could go the rest of his life without talking to another customer ever again. Except he thinks, fiddling with Steve’s note, maybe there’s one customer he'd talk to again.

Tomorrow, though. Definitely tomorrow.

divider kudos <3

[alwayslostinfiction]

I'm sorry but I have to repeat it again:

"appreciate YOU, buck"

He said YOU, not it, YOU.

He's not talking about buck helping him in that specific moment, he's talking about buck IN GENERAL.

And he says it OUT LOUD. To buck and himself.

I know as an audience we know that. Hell- they know it too.

He's shown it over and over again across the seasons.

But he's never actually said it out loud THIS DIRECTLY.

No reading between the lines, no big gestures, just a plain, casual, undeniable "appreciate YOU".

[everwalldigan]

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Jason had been successful in saving Sheila from the joker and still died as a result of it.

Would he have finally been recognised for the true reason of his death? Would he have been hailed as the tragic heroic martyr he was, the one whose death was 100% preventable had he had a stronger support system? Would he have had foundations to support young heroes built in his name instead of being a vague boogeyman cautionary tale that mentors bring up to warn their young heroes against disobedience and acting rashly? I don’t think anyone could even think of saying half of the horrible shit they’ve said about Jason’s death if they had the undeniable proof right in front of them that someone was saved from death as a direct result of his “reckless” actions.

How would his mother react to the son she never knew dying to save her? Loving her despite never really knowing her? Would she even be able to live with that guilt? Would she snap and kill the joker herself no matter the consequences? Would the hero community still be able to play into the victim blaming narrative for Jason’s death when they have the literal person he died saving, living among them?

And I wonder what that would change in the training of the robins after him. Would their training have more emphasis on community and support systems than more extensive training because it would be “the last Robin died because to save his mother and if he just had ONE person to answer when he reached out for help, he would still be alive” Instead of “the last Robin died because he wasn’t good enough”?

So much in the in universe rhetoric after Jason’s death would be completely changed if there was a direct witness immediately shutting down the “he was angry, arrogant and rash, bit off more than he can chew and went after the joker by himself and that’s what got him killed” shit they were pushing out to justify this completely preventable death of a child who just wanted to do what vowed to do when he took up the mantle. Save other people at the expense of his own safety.

[infernalwraths]

I just love how he builds up to the insult.

[teyrnacousland]

I've seen the headcanon that Lucanis' mother, Caterina's perfect heir, was actually similar to Illario in some ways. That she was calculating, ruthless, ambitious, obedient... all the things Caterina overlooks in Illario because Caterina sees her favourite daughter's deep brown eyes and quiet, controlled demeanor and careful planning in Lucanis.

But I am also attached to the idea that the opposite is true too. That Illario's mother shared similarities with Lucanis; that she was empathetic and stubborn, with a slight rebellious streak. But she was always outgoing and charming, was more impulsive with her emotions, and was always sharper with her tongue than with a sword, so Caterina only sees her in Illario.

I just love the idea that Caterina can't look beyond the surface and see who her grandsons really are because on some level she can't see past the ghosts reflected in their eyes. She can't see that the quiet brown eyed boy is is more of the gentle hearted rebel, and the one with blue eyes and a shining, fake smile is the ruthless leader who would do anything she asked.

[ratwithhands]

Right to left (Manga format)

I've mentioned it before about Tsuki no Kaishakunin but Muzan gets very defensive when asked to answer for the absence of Upper Moon One. Since Akaza is the only one who challenges his existence, Muzan makes an example out of him in front of the rest of the Kizuki.

Bonus: here's the version without text

He would've bored holes into his head with his grip but I didn't want to try sketching that 💀 Just know those nails were not nicely sitting on his scalp in the first iteration of this

[ryllen]

[hello-waffles-are-good]

Dick: what did he do now?

Roy: HE SMILED

Dick: at you?

Roy: no, at our dumb friends but HE LAUGHS LIKE AN ANGEL

Dick: go away Roy

Roy: shut up, I watched you pine over Wally for years, let me have this

Dick: go on

[notsocooljess]

you can rip my hc of peeta being a bad singer from my cold dead hands i don’t CARE i want him to be flawed in this way because HE wouldn’t care he would genuinely belt any song no regrets with full confidence and katniss would love it EVERY TIME and then when she would join in he would stop to listen to her but she stops and tells him to sing with her because it gives her the confidence to continue!!!