(sorry bout that folks)

anonymous asked:

I hate to ask, but school is kicking my butt and I'm really stressed out, do you have any headcanons with the batfamily being "smart"? Like, doing detective things or something? Please only respond if you want to/feel like it. I don't want to be a bother. Thank you.

Hmmm I’m not 100% sure what you’re asking for, but I’ll give it a shot?

  • So Damian didn’t know who his father was until pretty late in the game, BUT I think we can assume that he did hear Ra’s and Talia talk about his dad a few times when he was little. Thing is, they don’t generally use Bruce’s name. They call him “The Detective.”
  • That being the case, I always figured lil Damian ran around thinking “I too will be a detective” and playing at investigation, which would probably boil down to sneaking around in order to overhear as much as possible. For the record, I don’t think he ever dropped that habit.
  • I also think that lil Damian was obsessed with Sherlock Holmes, since Holmes is probably the most famous literary detective around. I happen to know that when Tim was fourteen, he was a member of the Sherlock Holmes Society (Detective Comics #618), so I figure they’ve got that bit in common. We are, however, talking about Tim and Damian, so when I say “something in common,” what I mean is “something to compete over.”
  • On top of the expected squabbling about the merits of different media adaptations, odds are they have contests where they both try to observe somebody and deduce as much information as possible. It’s not the kind of thing Bruce would discourage. They are supposed to be cultivating those skills, plus Bruce loves Holmes too. Another thing Bruce enjoys is showing up his children, so it works out well for him. He’s very, very good at that game.
  • So is Dick. Cass is a specific kind of good at it, because of the body language thing. They don’t make their guesses to their subject’s face, so Babs (also a talented player) fact-checks electronically as much as possible. It’s a decent way to pass time on slow patrols. They call it a training game.

hi folks! sorry bout that little delay in between strips - i’ve been juggling some other deadlines & my new dayjob, but i think we’ll be getting back to a more regular schedule now!

and as a heads up, i will be at TCAF next month! i’ll have a little baby book for sale as well as the pins, and of course some other cool stuff, so if you’re gonna be there definitely come say hi :)

(as always if you like baby, consider supporting me on patreon 🌻)

-e

iwassupposedtouploadthejyushimatsuonefirstbireallylikethisone

ANYWAY

One of the first artworks in 2016, WOWIE! And it’s Undertale, too. Let’s just say that @teandstars‘s Dancetale AU is just too cute and Frisk being a ballerina reminds me of Princess Tutu. Plus, @amissapanda‘s Princess Tutu posts rekindled my love for the series and ballet as an art.

And since Asriel’s dance is waltz and I believe that waltz and ballet is a great combo plus the first episode of Princess Tutu was also really pretty (guess which scene I am referring to wink wink), I made this. I truly recommend you listening to Tchaikovsky’s “Waltz of The Flowers” and the opening theme for Princess Tutu (”Morning Grace”) to get the whole feel of this picture.

EDIT 

Ah, gee wiz That was embarassing ahahaha I got mixed up with renrink’s blog and amissapanda’s since they both post Soriel stuff ahaha ah well sorry ‘bout that, folks

#7 - Nerves

author’s note : don’t forget to request! i will do preferences, blurbs, whatever you like! i got some major feels with this one, especially mikey’s. thanks for the follows and hope you enjoy!!

ASHTON : Ashton was tapping his foot against the floor backstage, and you noticed he was acting slightly strange. He had barely said a word to you over the last few minutes while the boys waited for the show time to come around. You could see through the entrance to the stage how packed the arena was, and Ashton just seemed to become more and more fidgety. 

“Ash, what’s wrong?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm. You hoped he wasn’t getting sick or something. 

“Nothing.” He breathed, and you could see he was trying his best not to snap at you. 

“Okay, just wondering.” You replied softly, not wanting to push the issue further. This was one of the first big shows you’d attended, and you weren’t sure if it had been a good idea or not by the way Ashton was acting. The management came around and told the boys three minutes to the show, and Ashton ran his fingers through his hair. 

“Ashton, seriously.” You said, worrying about him. “What’s the matter?” 

”Nothing, I’m fine!” He responded sharply. You’d never heard him like this, and you felt your heart sink to your toes as you stood beside him. “Oh, I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just really, really nervous.” He sighed, wrapping a thick arm around you.

“Why? You’ve done this a thousand times.” You chuckled, immediately forgiving him. 

“Well, it’s just cause you’re here, and I want to impress you.” He told you, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. 

“Ash, you don’t have to worry about impressing me. I’ve already been thoroughly impressed.” You bit your lip, stifling a laugh. 

“Alright, then. I’ll take that as an invitation to impress you after the show, then.” He replied cheekily, kissing you before running off to do what he did best. 

CALUM : ”Do I look okay?” You asked, waltzing out of the bedroom to where Calum was, feeling pretty in your new dress you’d boughten for the award show tonight. 

“Yeah, babe.” Calum said distantly, not really looking at you. You didn’t take it personally, as he was fumbling with the black tie around his throat. He couldn’t seem to make the ends go the way he wanted, and his fingers fumbled with what he normally did so well. 

“Cal, let me help you.” You said, dropping your clutch onto the couch and helping your boyfriend tie his tie. You straightened out his jacket, thinking he looked extremely handsome in the suit he almost never wore. 

“I’m so nervous.” He breathed as you were tucking down his collar. You couldn’t help but smirk, he had no reason to be. 

“You’re gonna do fantastic. I’ll be in the crowd, you can just look at me, okay?” You encouraged, and you felt Calum’s hands suddenly grip your hips under the tight bodice of your dress. 

“Thanks.” He said, pecking your nose. “And, by the way, you look really hot in this dress.”

LUKE : You were pressed against the wall of your bedroom, Luke’s fingers hungrily roaming over your body. Your back arched against the cool wall, as your shirt had already been taken off along with Luke’s. He was kissing at your neck, pressing his lips into the skin and sucking gently as you wrapped your fingers in your hair. 

“Luke..” You breathed out, just wanting all of him. You wanted to feel together, like two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly in their places in the picture. He cursed and let his fingers fall to the button of your jeans, his hands shaking slightly. He cussed again as he couldn’t seem to get the button undone, and you tilted his chin up to look you in the eyes. 

“Are you alright?” You wondered, confused as to why he was being like this. It wasn’t the first time, oh no, so what was wrong? 

“I’m sorry, I’m just, well, nervous.” He sighed, whispering the words like they were a secret he didn’t want anybody to hear. It kind of was, at least to him. 

“Why are you nervous, baby?” You pressed, feeling his arms wrap around your body. 

“I just, I love you so much and I’m always scared I’m gonna hurt you.” He whispered again, but you simply looked up into his eyes and could see he was worried. 

“Luke, I promise you won’t hurt me. Promise.” You confirmed, feeling the strength in your words. You two were together, forever, and there could be no secrets. 

“You trust me?” He chuckled lowly, pushing you away a little so he could get at your neck again. 

“I trust you ‘cause I love you.” You replied, and Luke finally undid the button of your jeans. 

MICHAEL : He’d never been this nervous in his entire life - Michael was almost sure he was going to throw up or worse, pass out. His arms felt like jello and his legs felt numb, like all of the nerves from the last two weeks were suddenly falling onto him now. 

You didn’t notice, however, as Michael’s had was tucked firmly in yours as the two of you walked along the dark boardwalk, the only light coming from the yellow street lights. The air was misty from the afternoon’s rain, but you had been prepared with your bright blue jacket. 

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Michael wondered, hoping his jittery hands wouldn’t give him away. “Do you recognize this place?” 

You thought for a moment as you stopped on the boardwalk, the dark beach expanding for miles before you. The curve of the Earth was visible across the ocean as you realized where you were standing. 

“This is where we had our first kiss.” You chuckled, remembering your second date with Michael. From that moment onwards, you’d known you’d found ‘the one’ - he was perfect. 

“Yeah. I was so nervous.” Michael laughed, letting of your hand to stand to put his hands on the wooden railing, scared his sweating palms would give him away. “And I’m really nervous right now.” He admitted, and you stared at him, confused. 

Michael felt the little box in pocket - the velvet package seemingly weighing a hundred pounds - and dropped to one knee beside you. You didn’t quite register what he was doing, and almost turned and told him to stop faffing around before it clicked in your head. 

“(Y/N),” He started, already feeling choked up - he’d promised himself he wouldn’t cry, but that goal was looking unlikely. “You are my best friend, the most important thing in my entire world. It would make me the happiest man on the face of the earth if I could wake up beside you, and fall asleep every night with you. You see so much beauty in the world, and I want to tell you how beautiful you are everyday.” Michael felt the words, trying to put as much power behind them as he could muster. 

Your hands were clapped to your face, tears falling into your hands. And with the words he’d practiced in front of the mirror a hundred times, Michael managed the last sentence with a shaky voice. “Will you marry me?” 

“Yes, yes, oh my god, yes. Of course I will!” You cried out, and Michael felt all his nerves fall away like a light switch as you collapsed onto him, sliding the ring on your finger. 

“Happy tears?” Michael asked, wiping your cheek free of the trails of salty water. 

“Happy tears.” You nodded, leaning in to kiss him as you both sat on the sandy boardwalk, too overjoyed for words.

In memory of my beloved but recently deceased Epson Perfection scanner, here’s the very last artwork it scanned before giving up the ghost: A rough page from Empowered vol.10, featuring a rather “meta” scene in which a dubious Past-Tense Emp (left) is berated by Present-Tense Emp (right) for being such a “cringing ol’ scaredycat” about the future.

Two things about this page:

A) Panel 1 uses a round, compass-drawn border because, for the life of me, I could not draw Present Emp’s lower legs properly. In desperation, I decided to crop the panel to hide this tricky area, and a circular panel design worked perfectly for that purpose. Problem solved!

B) Those two balloons in panel 6 had way too much dialogue, so I wound up combining them into a single, smaller balloon, which had the added benefit of making room for a profile shot of Past Emp at lower left. Alas, I can’t show you the revised page, thanks to my now-deceased scanner. Sorry ‘bout that, folks.

Remember (Daryl Dixon imagine)

imagine: after happening upon your childhood best friend and former boyfriend, Daryl Dixon, you reminisce with him about both the good and the bad memories. (1,483 words)

ahhh it’s so nice to write about daryl again after writing a rick imagine and a glenn imagine! (also how HOT was daryl in 6x06 holy shit) but anyway i hope you enjoy this imagine i really loved writing it. i’d also like to welcome georgia to this blog as an official writer wooo - gabby

(gif is not mine, found at welovedaryldixon)


Despite only having spent merely a few hours inside the prison walls, I had confidence in the fact that Rick and his group were people I could trust. I’d stumbled upon the prison by chance after watching my family get ripped open by a herd of walkers, and I’d seen Rick and Carl feeding the pigs through the fence. They rushed me through the gate, then Rick proceeded to ask me three questions, along with my name. Either my answers satisfied him, or he just felt sorry for my blood-soaked, malnourished self, as he and Carl helped me inside and promised me food, water and shelter.

After I introduced myself to the group, Carol found me a change of clothes; the trousers were slightly too short and there were a few holes in the shirt, but I didn’t mind at all. Anything was better than wearing the clothes wet with my parents’ and siblings’ blood. She welcomed me into a previously unoccupied cell that I could now call my own, and I was finally alone to grieve for my family.


“The others are back from their run,” Carol whispered, poking her head into my cell. I realised I’d fallen asleep. “You should come meet them.” I nodded and rubbed my eyes as I dazedly lifted my head from my pillow, it had been months since I slept on anything other than the ground. I was apprehensive as I stepped out of my cell, at least a dozen faces meeting mine.

“Daryl, Michonne, Glenn, Bob, this is Y/N,” I waved shyly at the woman polishing her samurai sword, making a mental note to not get on the wrong side of her. I looked round at the others tentatively until my eyes finally rested upon someone I never thought I’d see again.

“Daryl?!” I gasped, rushing towards him and his embrace. He seemed to be in just as much disbelief as I was, either that or he couldn’t recognise me. But I could tell as he gripped my face and studied it intently that he knew it was me.

“I don’ believe it,” he whispered, ever so slightly choked up. I examined his appearance, his hair was much longer and darker than I could remember it being, and he was definitely taller and more muscular, but he was still the same Daryl from all those years ago.

“You guys know each other?” The guy I was pretty sure was called Glenn queried, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

“Me an’ Y/N go way back,” Daryl replied, settling his crossbow on the ground before hugging me tightly again. “An’ we gotta lot of catchin’ up to do.”


“Remember when we were kids and you used to come to my house and play with my dolls?” I grinned at him, leaning my head against the wall whilst sharpening my knife. 

“If by play ya mean rippin’ their heads clean off, then yeah,” Daryl chuckled, sitting on the floor a few metres away from me. 

“I remember going to your house too,” I said cautiously, knowing that I was on dangerous ground with this topic. 

“That wasn’t so fun,” Daryl muttered, his gaze focused on the ground. “Got to play hide ‘n’ seek a lot though.” I chewed on the inside of my lip; when Daryl and I were in elementary school we used to hide from his father in the shed at the end of his garden. I reached out and put my hand on top of his, stroking my thumb along his chapped knuckles. Without looking up he pulled his hand and himself away from me and left in search for food, leaving me to roll my eyes. In the several years we’d been apart, Daryl had certainly not lost his stubbornness.


“I can imagine Daryl as a teacher’s worst nightmare,” Glenn remarked, causing everyone to laugh in agreement. “But I can’t imagine you being the same, Y/N.” We were all sat around a table, eating surprisingly good canned vegetables when the group decided to interrogate me and Daryl on our history for their evening entertainment. 

“I was a pretty good student,” I replied, to which Daryl subtly raised his eyebrows in disagreement. “I only really got into trouble for making out with Daryl in the corridor when I was supposed to be in class.” A few people spluttered in response to this, giving me time to realise that Daryl and I hadn’t quite made it obvious enough that we were more than just friends at one point in our lives.

“You dated?!” Beth exclaimed, looking between Daryl and I in amazement. “No way!” Daryl scratched the back of his head awkwardly and I giggled to ease the silence, blushing as all eyes turned to me.

“We had to keep it pretty quiet,” I spoke quietly. “My parents weren’t too fond of Daryl in his teenage years. Or more so, they weren’t fond of Merle’s drug dealing habits.” Daryl looked at his lap and pursed his lips uncomfortably. All eyes were on him. “Where is Merle, anyway?” 

“Dead.” Daryl’s voice was hardly audible.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” The silence was unbearable; Carol placed a hand lightly on Daryl’s back. I wanted to ask more, but I thought I’d said enough as it was.

“Were you guys still a thing when this all started?” Sasha asked, trying to change the topic. Daryl and I responded in unison.

“No.”

“Well what happened?” Neither of us replied to Beth’s question, sharing uneasy glances instead. “Oh come on, we all wanna know!”

“Jus’ didn’t work out, s’all,” Daryl drawled, still refusing to look up from his lap.

“That’s not exactly right,” I countered, recalling the heartbreak Daryl caused me in our final year of high school. “Daryl bailed on me at prom.” Everyone averted their stares towards Daryl, making sounds of disapproval, to which he slammed his hands aggressively on the table and pushed himself up from his seat, looking at me in disappointment before progressing to stomp into his cell.

“Leave him be,” Rick cautioned me, setting his hand on my shoulder. For some reason my eyes threatened to spill tears, so I said goodnight, thanked everyone again for their kindness and settled into my cell for the night. 


Falling asleep proved unsuccessful; I’d been staring at the wall for hours when I heard a figure shuffling into my cell. 

“Y/N?” A familiar gruff voice called out in a whisper. Daryl sat himself down on my bed and pulled my legs onto his lap. There were a million questions I wanted to ask him; I couldn’t choose which one I wanted to ask first. But before I could ask anything, Daryl broke the quietness in the room.

“Sorry ‘bout your folks.”

“Daryl, why didn’t you show up to prom? Why were you so cynical about me getting into college? Why did you beat up my boyfriend for no reason?”

“I skipped the stupid prom ‘cause I got a black eye. Got in a fight with my dad the night before. Didn’t want no one seein’ me like that. That’s why you didn’t see me for a while after, as well.

The thought of you goin’ to college without me got me realisin’ how worthless I was. I was always failin’ at tests and shit an’ you were always excellin’. I know you only went to the University of Georgia so you weren’t far or nothin’, but it still felt like you were miles away. Havin’ fun at parties while I was stuck livin’ with my brother.

An’ I didn’t beat up that dumb boyfriend of yours, you were a drunken mess on the street after some sorta college party an’ me an’ Merle tried to help but your lover was throwin’ punches an’ all my way so Merle fought him off. Got any more questions, Y/N? Keep ‘em comin’.”

I remained quiet, gazing at him apologetically as I propped myself up onto my elbows. “I’m sorry.”

“I hated seein’ you waltzin’ around with your dumb college friends, knowin’ you were gonna get a big fancy job someday an’ I’d still be stuck doin’ fuck all, taggin’ along with Merle.” 

“And now we’re here, together.” Daryl laughed lightly in response to this, and began rubbing my ankles gently. I hummed to myself as his hands relieved the ache in my feet caused by months of relentless walking. “Dixon, you always gave the best foot massages.”

“We can try again,” Daryl suggested almost shyly, glancing at me through the hair masking his face. “Nothin’ stoppin’ us now.”

Resting my head back on my pillow, I yawned quietly before replying to Daryl.

“I’ll think about it, okay?” Closing my eyes, I felt sleep attempting to wash over me.

“’Kay.”

“For now though, can you keep massaging me? My whole body aches.”

“Anythin’ to make it up to you, Y/N.”


I am so head over heels for my girlfriend it’s ridiculous. She literally left 10 minutes ago and I already miss her. She is so beautiful and my mom loves her and I don’t know how I got so lucky honestly. I’m sorry for the mushy posts lately and I’m sure I’ll lose followers for this but man I can’t even express how happy she makes me.

Not going to do “damage control” beyond this and before my Ask box decides to hit a brick:

1. If you think I referenced rape and abuse as a “lifestyle”, holy shit NO. ARE YOU SERIOUS? NO! I mentioned that (edit, in reference to: “If anyone has a highly negative opinion or are sitting there shitting on your lifestyle”) as an example of something that could incite conversation about. 

2. How would ANY RATIONAL PERSON BELIEVE THAT’S A LIFESTYLE CHOICE!?

3. Looks like I’m “rude”. I just want to make sure enough context is set forth before we run with pitchforks and witch hunts? Sorry?

Edit 4. (One more while I’m apparently still awake) Just so we’re 100% completely clear! The reason why I put the explanation of checking dev twitter interactions is because, coupling with the tweet images I put, it indicates that the devs are open to having a conversation. If you feel uncomfortable or wronged, state it with thought. With reason. With purpose. Dialogue’s a two way street. They’re generally willing to listen. Meet them half way. 

It’s past 7AM now. I’m going to bed. Context is important. Conversation is important. I’m ending on that.

I wonder why I’m always a filler girl.
I’m never a first relationship,
I’m never a crazy bitch,
I’m never a first kiss
I’m never a first love
I’m never anything special.
Good or bad.
I never stick around in someone’s mind.
I’m not the girl you’ll always remember.
I’m not the one that will come up in casual conversation at a dinner table.

I’m just always a chick in the middle.
A filler girl.
The one you never speak about.
The one you won’t remember.

Shucks, I’m sorry, folks!

Well, I’m not the best with checking my tumblr-do-hickey, and my attention has very recently been brought to the announcement of the retsumemorial (can I call it that or is it in bad taste?). So, I’m thinking about moving the stream thing to a later date, if that’ll work. I mean, I gotta power through Darkseed for the fifth time remember the greatness of a mind like H. R. Giger, whose art shaped me in my formative years. It was like he gave a sci-fi voice to my night terrors. Joking aside, he was a super important guy to me and I wouldn’t want to miss this (joke-filled) stream.

I dunno what night would work best for whoever would like to show up, but as of late I’m pretty much free. Some input would be appreciated, if you’re considering swinging by (no pressure, of course.) When I figure something out, I’ll announce it a few days in advance. Thanks for your understanding and I hope you have a nice day. Or night. Or whatever. Have a nice?