abugwithapencil

[abugwithapencil]

since the old version of this post was flagged for ‘adult content’…

reblog this post if your account is a trans safe space or owned by a trans person!

along with that, reblog if your account is a non-binary spectrum safe space or owned by someone on the nb spectrum!

[abugwithapencil]

Your sixth most recent emoji is how your guardian angel feels about you

[abugwithapencil]

Nibblesss on the person reading this affectionately :3

[abugwithapencil]

hello. i'm silly and in love with you

[abugwithapencil]

"spam like = blocked" if you spam like me i am going to cast 1000 protection spells on you so nothing bad happens to you ever

[abugwithapencil]

Reblog if you think it’s okay to platonically say “I Love You” to your friends

[abugwithapencil]

does anyone wanna hold hands until we feel a little braver

[abugwithapencil]

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

* body language masterlist

* a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

* a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

* 550 words to say instead of fuckin said

* 638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

* some more body language help

(hope this helps some ppl)

[abugwithapencil]

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

[abugwithapencil]

me carrying a stuffed animal around while being disabled is not "infantilizing disability"

I am an actually disabled person who carries a stuffed animal as comfort bc disability is hard

what's "infantilizing disability" is assuming that just bc I carry a stuffed animal I'm not capable of making decisions for myself. or that having a stuffed animal makes me a less serious, adult person than you are.

[abugwithapencil]

hyperfixation please stay with me long enough to complete the project. hyperfixation do not fade. hyperfixation finish what you started for the love of god

[abugwithapencil]

Haven’t drawn anything in a good while, but i got a switch and a few games for Christmas and have been playing animal crossing and subsequently taking really cute screen captures and they inspired me, lowkey forgot how much i love drawing and how it can make me so happy

As a treat, have the absolutely magnificent horrors that is the color layers under the cut

[abugwithapencil]

I’d promise myself to you for forever and a day if I could, instead I’ll settle for this life time, or tomorrow and then tomorrow if a life time is too much for you.

And even if we’re not together anymore you’ll have me if you want, and I’d have you if you’d let me, as friends, as lovers, as both or neither or something indescribable in between.

I don’t care, to have you is to breath and to give myself to you is nature.

Forever and a day is what I’d promise you, but I’ll have to settle for today, tomorrow and then the rest of this life.

[abugwithapencil]

[abugwithapencil]

Since the booping has returned, reblog if it's okay to spam you with boops!

I wanna be polite and not spam random people without permission , ,

[abugwithapencil]

reblog this if you're okay with booping spams please !!

[abugwithapencil]

Tim had a jumper that doesn’t seem all that special, but to Alfred, Bruce and Dick is incredibly important. Dare they say vital to caring for Tim.

It’s a big wooly thing, once a pale mossy green but now with a hint of brown and white from fading and use. It’s too big for him to the point that the sleeves have to be bunched up when worn and even than they hang over his hands.

It looks like a dress on him, which isn’t help but his naturally slim build.

The jumper is held in such high regard because when Tim puts it on it means that he’s not feeling like he usually does.

His confidence, his snark, his wit, and his mental strength is either hard to reach or impossible.

Tim, in the only instance he actually talked about what was going on when he wasn’t wearing the jumper, said he felt both like a tiny little fish in a giant pond and like his skin was a sheet of paper.

Bruce talked to Dinah about it and said it was most likely a form of mental regression, but Tim refused for it to be called him being ‘little’ or anything that would remind him of being a kid again.

Because he doesn’t act like a kid, but maybe it’s not right to associate Tim Drake with a normal child behaviour pattern. He doesn’t babble or whine or want to watch kids shows like Dinah had suggest he might, but he does go non verbal or only say one or two words in response to pretty much anything.

He puts his jumper on and will just… sit there.

Tim is always moving or thinking, always doing, but when he gets in his ‘jumper state’ as Alfred calls it, he tends to slow down completely and just want to sit somewhere warm and feel the fluff of his carefully maintained jumper.

Sometimes, he seeks out warmth outside of heaters and fires and the sun.

It’s on one of those days when Tim stalks down to the Cave with his jumper on, hair messy over his head and hands held up to his chest in an almost shy manner.

Jason notices him first and simply raises an eyebrow in confusion while Damian scoffs, “What on earth are you wearing, Drake? That looks moldy-“

But Tim doesn’t even look at him, eyes on the floor as he goes over to Bruce at the computer and pokes the older man’s shoulder once before retracting his hand.

Bruce immediately turns and opens his arms, an almost heartbroken look on his face as he lets Tim drawl onto his lap and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve got you. Anything in particular or just one of those days?”

Tim speaks in a voice like a husk that Damian and Jason only hear because they’ve come closer and sound travels in the cave, “Janet, birthday.”

Bruce Wayne, The Batman, The Caped Crusader, then fucking coos and kisses his head before rocking him slightly.

“That makes sense. Do you need someone here tonight? I can call Dick or stay myself if you need.”

The two other boys in the room look at each other, shocked to hear Bruce say he will give up a patrol to seemingly cuddle someone.

Tim shakes his head, “Alfred.”

Bruce nods, kissing his head again and saying, “Thank you for coming to me so I can help you. I’m so proud of you for not making yourself go through this alone again.”

It’s not exactly a whine that leaves Tim, but it’s not a word that is Bruce’s answer.

Jason comes forward and awkwardly scratches the back of his head, “I don’t really know what’s going on, but can I like… help or something?”

Bruce smiled as Tim nods against him after a few moments, the boy in his arms turning to reach a hand out for Jason and then strangely patting the hand Jason offers up for him.

Damian, not trying to be rude but needing to understand what is going on, clears his throat and demands, “Explain what is wrong with Drake.”

Luckily Bruce had gotten better at understanding how his son communicates and looks to Tim for permission before answering, “Sometimes Tim needs to… be free of responsibility and just feel like a person for a bit. He isn’t always up for talking and just wants to be around people he trust, and me, Dick and Alfred have managed to convince him to actually come to us when he needs that.”

Bruce smiles at where at where Tim is holding Jason’s hand and swinging it around a bit before feeling over the rough calluses and thick fingers with apparent joy.

Damian frowns a little at his father’s explanation but nods regardless, “Very well, we shall set up the family room for the evening before we head out for patrol.”

Bruce smiled and pulls Damian’s head over to kiss his hairline as he hears Jason mutter, “Weird little guy, aren’t ya?”

Tim hums and pinches his finger and smiling at his older brothers yelp.