you can still punch me

anonymous asked:

Ok alternate idea- what if Bruce is the one who gets de-aged? For humors sake Alfred could be out of town for whatever reason, leaving the batkids to deal with the weirdness that is smol Bruce. Like 5 year old smol.

this is great, because i’ve always thought bruce was a weird lil kiddo who did weird lil things, and alfred was always running after him. what are you doing tearing up the garden, master bruce? saving the bees, you say? and like bruce was a master of the sneak from like 3, he could just duck away while the grownups are yelling and climb into the air vents. why the air vents? it looked interesting. very curious, the tiny batman. always running off to explore. what are rules

so like, imagine the kids all getting into an argument because you can’t put them in a room together, and suddenly bruce is gone, and it’s a total manhunt. in the span of six hours, bruce somehow finds his way to metropolis, and tells superman that he looks like a popsicle. he’s a strangely clingy little kid, too, so when dick comes to pick him up bruce just wraps around his leg. it’s slow, and sneaky, so you don’t notice, and it’s made alfred trip hundreds of times. bruce is amazed when dick just keeps walking and declares him the Favorite

Alien Baby

Tentoo x Rose  |  100 word drabble  |  Babyfic

Okay, I’m sitting here having a moment to myself, and lamenting the fact that I have to go out later, so I can’t dig into one of my projects.  But I don’t want to leave you guys hanging, and it feels super weird not to post something creative. So here’s a 100 word drabble before I get ready to go.  Hopefully I won’t be gone long.  I have work to do when I get back, but I’m hoping I can get some work in on that Kilgrave painting.

Rose Tyler glanced at the pile of dishes by the sink, shifting to angle her back towards the mess as she sipped her tea.  Her hand roamed down to the swell in her abdomen as she felt the baby roll over.  God, pregnancy was weird.  All the crazy things she’d seen traveling with the Doctor somehow hadn’t prepared her for the sight of a hand or foot pushing at the walls of her womb, seeing the jabs and kicks, watching her stomach tighten and roll and squirm.  It certainly seemed alien.  And considering the father, she supposed that was fitting.

a-calorosa  asked:

I've been strung around by you like a kicked dog for like the last week; the leash is your fanfic. I just want to send you a prompt to see what excellent, horrible, amazing thing you do with it. So here is the prompt, offered from my bare hands for you to pluck or swat away: ~"I didn't know you could do that"~

This is why I can’t tell if anyone really likes me in this fandom. But here you go!:

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

Cassian’s hands pulled her shirt open, focused. He glanced up at her, a brief glimmer of confusion at her words. He looked striking in cavernous torchlight, too bad that wasn’t a setting on the lights in her quarters. She stored information like that on Cassian Andor. For later. Hopefully. 

His lips were pecking at hers as he spoke, to cover his explanation. 

“The. Rebellion. Frowns upon it. But. They’re. Still. Watching. And. You. Can. Punch. Me. Later.”

His tongue snaked into her mouth when he finished that thought. 

She got why he was doing it, but it struck her as wildly unprofessional for someone like him. So when he’d glanced nervously over their shoulder to check if they were still being followed -and they were- is decision to spin her up against a wall of one of the tunnels of this city’s literal underground had made the words slip out of her mouth as his lips did dastardly things to her neck. 

Did the rebellion really sanction public displays of affection between partners? That just seemed to open up more problems than solutions. 

“You’re too stiff,” he told her, breath warming her ear, “they can tell you don’t like it.”

She grasped his chin in her hand. 

“How far are you willing to take this?” she turned on him with a wicked smile. 

He gaped at her, and her hands shoved him back, spinning him to be the one against the wall with lips on his neck. 

“I didn’t know you could do that,” he murmured, his voice soft and longing. Jyn snickered. She wedged her hips between his legs. He used the wall’s support to lower himself to grind fully against her. She smiled against his mouth. 

“Are they still following us?” she said it soft and dirty, like she was flirting instead of undercover. 

Cassian glanced over her head as she dove back to his neck. The location would have betrayed anyone close enough to keep up with their next movements. 

“No.”

“Then should we stop?” her lips did sinful things to his collarbones with a knowing chuckle, which were incredibly sensitive. Damn her for figuring it out. He closed his eyes, groaned softly. 

“No.”

michael clifford if you’re reading this

please be my friend. everything’s boring without you

I heard it’s MarcoAce week, so I quickly scribbled something.

MarcoAce Week Day 1: Fire

(Marco and Ace testing their abilities to touch and getting lost in their love for each other)


Bonus:


anonymous asked:

Hi! I draw thing, just like you do! When you feel stuck in an artblock, how do you get out of it?

Stellar! Stage one is usually whining about it. Stage two is the feeling of impending doom in case I really have lost the ability to draw altogether. Stage three is punching myself pragmatically in the shut up and then sitting down to make something even if it’s shit and I’m shit and I hate it. Because keeping your pen on the page is a good thing. Stage four is still having no ideas, so I go to cafes a lot to sit and think and I draw animals I find on google images. Stage five is enjoying it again and remembering that creativity is tidal; it has its natural ebbs and flows, so feeling stuck at times is a given. Lather rinse repeat etc

Faults

*Spoilers for 7.01 Ahead!*

Requested by @fanaticfangirl001: A Daryl x reader where it’s reader, not Glenn, that’s killed because of his outburst.

OK, I made this super depressing because I can. Sorry?

Faults

“And you are it!” Negan said, shoving his bat into Abraham’s face. “Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father.”

Negan brought the bat up, then swung it down hard onto the top of Abraham’s head, knocking the soldier to his hands and knees in the dirt. Abraham didn’t stay down at first, though; he straightened back up and said, quite clearly, “Suck my balls.”

Negan began to laugh. “He told me to suck his balls!” He laughs again, then takes a home-run style swing at Abe again.

You felt like you were going to vomit. You looked away, fighting screams and tears and bile as Negan landed blow after blow onto the head of your friend.

“Well, look at my thirsty girl.” Negan said when he’d finished, admiring the blood and guts on the bat. Then, he flicked it sideways and blood sprayed down the line of people, covering Michonne, Maggie, and Rick in an instant. “I do love it when she’s happy.” He smiled wickedly and your stomach churned again.

Then, you turned away, unable to hold it any longer, and vomited into the dirt behind you. You narrowly missed a Savior’s boots as you heaved, and he jumped out of the way, crying, “Negan, this bitch just tried to yak on me!”

“Hey, Miss,” Negan walked over to where you dry heaving, “We’re ready to move on now, and I don’t offer bathroom passes, so you better pay close attention for the rest of the class.”

As you turned back around, wiping your mouth on your sleeve, you could feel Daryl slowly put a hand on your back to comfort you. Negan hadn’t noticed, though, because he’d moved on to a new target.

“Shit, girl, don’t look so down.” He was standing in front of Rosita, who looked like she was going to pass out. “Oh, wait,” Negan paused, looking back and forth between her and Abe’s bloodied body, “Were you two together?” Rosita began to cry. “Oh wow, that sucks.”

Negan laughed for a second before sticking the bat close to Rosita’s nose. “Take a look at that shit.” He says, then frowns when Rosita drops her eyes and begins to cry more audibly. “Look, girly, shit happens. Always has, always will. You might as well face it when it does.” He waved the bat in front of her face. “So. Take. A good. Look!” When Rosita didn’t move again, Negan made a move to reach out and grab her.

Before he could, though, Daryl stood, throwing his blanket off of his shoulders and a punch in Negan’s direction. He moved fast enough that Negan was caught off guard, and Daryl managed to punch him right in the jaw.

Then, he was being tackled by a group of Saviors; three men wrestled him to the ground, holding him down by his hurt shoulder while Dwight made his way towards him. “Let me do it. Right now.” Dwight says, pointing the crossbow at Daryl’s face and waiting for Negan’s signal. “I’ll execute him with his own weapon.”

“NO!” You didn’t know you were speaking until it was already done. You fell forward onto your hands and grabbed a handful of the Earth in an effort to keep your composure.

“Huh.” Negan says, waving at Dwight to stand down as he walked towards you. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” You don’t say anything, only blink back tears and look away. “I don’t have all day, missy, and everyone else’s clocks are ticking. So, I’ll ask one last time: what is your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Your full name.” He says with a smirk.

You swallow and say quietly, “Y/N Dixon.”

“And is that your boyfriend there, Ms. Dixon? The one with the huge ass cajones that thinks he can punch me and walk away scot-free?” You still couldn’t look at Negan, and you couldn’t answer, either, you just looked past him at Daryl.

“Well?!” Negan raised his voice, causing your focus to snap back to him. “Answer me, woman!”

“My husband.” You say softly.

“Oh, your husband, huh?” Negan straightened up, that sly smile returning to his face. “Drag him to his knees. Right there.” Negan says, watching as the Saviors pulled Daryl to his knees on the spot, holding him there as their boss got up into his face. “You see, Dixon, I told you that you got one for free, and fucktard number one over there,” He gestured to Glenn, “Used up the whole group’s.”

Negan stood and shook his head. “So, your little outburst cannot go unpunished.”

Then, without hesitation, Negan spun around and your eyes widened as he swung his baseball bat expertly in your direction. White-hot pain rocketed through your body as the blow landed squarely on the top of your head, knocking you on your face in the dirt.

It took a moment for you to get your bearings. There was blood dripping down onto the ground and your left eye was blind. Finally, you pushed yourself back up to your knees. You had to see Daryl one last time. You had to tell him.

When you looked back up, Negan put a fist up next to his mouth in amused horror. “Oh, shit, look at that! Her fucking eye fucking popped out of her fucking skull! Yo, husband, are you seeing this?”

Daryl was trying to get away from the goons that held him, but it was a half-hearted effort as he looked at your face with terror.

“D…D…” You splutter, spitting blood onto Negan’s jeans as you spoke.

“Fuck, girl, you’re still trying to talk? Just give up already. I hear it makes dying easier.”

“D…” You put a hand on the dirt to steady yourself. “-aryl.” You manage to croak out.

“You’re going to have to speak up, love.” Negan squatted next to you. “Hubby can’t hear you from over there.”

You swallowed the blood in your mouth and the lump in your throat. “S’not… s’not your fault.” You slur, your remaining vision becoming blurrier.

“Oh, but I’m afraid it is his fault.” Negan says, before striking you once, twice, three more times across the face and head. On the fourth blow, everything went black.

—–

When Negan finished his mutilation and torture of Y/N, he turned back to Daryl. “Well,” He smiled at the horrified redneck in front of him. “I believe you are a bachelor again.” He lifted the bat, flicking it sharply so that blood and pieces of brain matter sprayed all over Daryl’s face and chest. “You’re welcome.”

Negan laughed as Daryl struggled, trying to get out of the Saviors’ grips and get at him. “You killed my wife, you son of a bitch!” Daryl struggled harder, the pain in his shot shoulder begging him to stop.

“No, sir, you killed your wife. I just helped a little.” Then Negan smiled again and gestured at the men holding Daryl. “Put him in the van.”

As the men started dragging Daryl towards the van, he tried again and again to get loose, but to no avail. Shock and grief and blood loss were all setting in, making his mind cloud over with flashbacks of the death of his brand new bride. As they closed him back into darkness, your final words echoed in his head, “It’s not your fault.”

“But it is my fault.” He whispered into the darkness. Then he passed out.

—–

Have a request? Make sure to check the Guidelines for Requests before submitting.

Check this “Coming Soon” post to see which imagines I’ll be posting next!

[Masterlist]

So, as some of you may know, I think about sambucky AU’s a lot. Like my star-crossed lovers AU, or that Ballet AU I still cry over on Friday’s when the light hits me just right. Well, right now, I want to know one thing…

Where… Is… My… Beauty and the Beast… Sambucky… AU???

I’d like to personally request Bucky, cursed by a warlock, doomed to remain a half-beast hybrid for all of eternity unless he finds someone to love him despite all of his wrongdoings and that shitty attitude he catches every once in a while. Oh, and he only has ten years to do it. Guess which year it is when we meet him? You’re right, it’s totally the 9th year.

Give me Sam, a man of modest earnings taking care of his ailing mother and young sister. Unfortunately, his mother has Alzheimers and forgets herself sometimes, goes wandering in search of roses, chasing after a memory of a happier time when Sam’s father was around and they had a bigger house, and a lot more time to spend with one another. She’s caught by the infamous Beast of Bucharest and is confined for company until Sam comes knocking. (And lemme tell you, Darlene can still punch - momma don’t play)

Give me Sam, self sacrificing as always, trading his life for that of his mother’s - telling his sister to be strong and that he’ll return in no time. Don’t you worry, Sarah…

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

37) "Wanna dance?" Andrew/Neil

“Wanna dance?”

Neil is drunk.

This has been happening more and more since he spilled the truth to everyone, but they’re in public and Neil has always tried to be more careful there. However, after a particularly bad loss tonight, Andrew promised to watch Neil if things got out of hand, so Neil got drunk.

He’s stayed seated for most of the night, but now he’s up and swaying on his feet. He’s got a lazy smile on his face as he leans against the table in front of Andrew. The same Andrew who is pointedly ignoring Neil in favor of staring into the distance.

“Hey, hey, Andrew,” Neil slurs. “Dance with me.”

Andrew turns his head slightly, looking at Neil now. “Excuse me?”

“Wanna dance?” Neil tries again. Andrew stares at him as if he’s off his rocker (which he is), but doesn’t disagree. Instead, he hops off his stool, grabs Neil’s wrist and pulls him to the dance floor.

They make their way through the throngs of people, Andrew elbowing people out of his way. Neil drunkenly follows behind. They don’t stop until the reach the farthest corner not occupied by anyone. Andrew releases his arm and folds his own over his chest.

Neil sways on the off beat of the music, grinning at Andrew. He’s content to sit there for a few minutes, but when the song ends, Neil reaches for Andrew, stopping just short of touching him.

“i know I can’t give consent and it’s stupid that I’m drunk but I really want to dance with you,” Neil says, still half-dancing. “If I do something wrong, you can punch me in the face?”

Andrew contemplates this for a few seconds before grabbing Neil’s hands and putting them on his shoulders. “You move them, you lose them,” it’s an empty threat, but poor, drunk Neil believes it.

Andrew settles with his hands on Neil’s waist. There’s a good six inches between them and Neil doesn’t even try to move any closer.

They sit there and sway until the song ends. Andrew hates to admit it, but dancing isn’t that bad. Even with a drunk partner that keep mumbling things about Andrew’s eyes.

(send me a prompt?)

What your favorite gem in Steven Universe tells about you
  • Rose Quartz: You're strong willed and rebellious. You're not afraid to fight for what you believe in, even if it meant making sacrifices. You are probably loved by many.
  • Garnet: You're a badass with a heart of gold! You strongly believe that love is love and people have the right to love whoever they want(translation: you probably gay af) You can literally kick my ass if you want and I'd be thanking you. Nothing can get passed you.
  • Pearl: You're beauty, You're grace, and you can punch me in the face and I'd still love you tbh. You're the faithful mom friend ™ and you can get salty af alot. You can be underestimated at times but trust me, I don't think anyone should have the nerve to mess with you.
  • Amethyst: You're the party type of person, or the lazy type, or both. You're a chill person and no one can mess with your vibe. Sometimes you can be a little insecure, but aint we all. You're a loyal friend and honest one. The world needs more people like you.
  • Peridot: Jesus christ where do I even begin? You're a smol cat. Thats it. Wanna fight me nerd?
  • Lapis Lazuli: You're a free spirit who just wants to soar above and beyond. Loveable yet deadly, you are not a force to be reckoned with. You're probably the friend people trust/rely on the most.
  • Bonus! Jasper: You're a cheeto puff that needs to calm tf down. Where you at?

so I’m a bit sensitive

it’s just a part of who I am. I cry easily. I care a lot about what people think of me. And I take criticism really hard.

Tonight in taekwondo we were doing flying side kicks across the room. This is the first time I ever tried doing this kick, and it wasn’t coming naturally for me. I was landing really hard instead of floating, and my chamber sucked, and the jerk of the kick was straining my neck.

My instructor teased me for kicking so low and poorly. He said “this kick is meant to knock someone off of a horse, not a leprechaun off a gerbil!” and everyone laughed and while it was the dumbest thing ever it made me so embarrassed. I felt my face grow red and hot but I told myself to get over it and keep trying.

But then an hour later it was Krav Maga time and we were doing some other drill and I was supposed to like bunny hop over these metal step things, but my jump wasn’t high enough and I kept catching my toes on it and stumbling. My instructor came over and kinda did an obnoxious jump thing, again teasing me. My patience was running low and so I just exclaimed “I’m trying my best, leave me alone!”

Halfway through class we took a water break and he came over to me, “can you punch or are you still weak?” He was referring to my shoulder injury but I was just SO OVER HIS COMMENTS that I just replied “I’m just gonna go.” He kinda stepped back and asked me if I was okay and tears came to my eyes and I just said “I’m going home” and he replied in his Official Master Voice “okay ma'am if that’s what you want to do–” but I just walked out. I changed into my street clothes and left. It’s custom in our dojang that you say goodbye to your master and bow but I wasn’t having any of it. I heard him over my shoulder say “goodnight Stephanie” but I just let the door slam behind me.

I know I’m overreacting and I know it was disrespectful of me to behave that way and I’m sure I’ll hear all about it tomorrow but sometimes the “love” they show through teasing and jokes are really hurtful. Like I left in tears. It’s my fault for not speaking up but part of the blame lies with him for not seeing that I was obviously upset. I know he’s my coach and he’s going to push me harder but he could be a bit kinder in his approach.