#YEAR ONE IS OVER BABY!!!!

[sedge-and-sanctuary]

Moon Twelve - Highdark

Sedgeclan has no Deputy!

Murekit, Pinekit, Saltkit, and Timberkit are made apprentices. Coniferstar tells the story of the clan's founding.

Murekit takes a deep breath, holding carefully still as Wormturn rasps her tongue- again- between his ears.

His littermates- already groomed- are fidgeting a hare-leap away, their pelts sleeker and neater than Murekit’s ever seen them.

Pinekit looks sideways at Timberkit and- slowly- reaches out one paw to swat the back of her head. Wormturn doesn’t even stop grooming Murekit. “Pinekit, if you muss your sister’s pelt–”

He stops, guiltily. Saltkit and Timberkit dissolve into giggling.

The ‘day’, deepest in the heart of winter, is pitch-dark. The sun has not risen for days and days now, and will not rise again for quite some time.

Silhouetted- dark, against the darker sky- is Coniferstar. He stands on the Splitstone, waiting. The jagged, flat-topped boulder is kissed by moonlight, where it spills into the centre of their camp.

He opens his mouth, at last, and calls out, voice high and clear: “Cats of Sedgeclan! Any who have paws to carry them, and ears to listen– gather ‘round!”

Wormturn pulls away from Murekit, at last. He pauses, to smooth the last tuft of unruly fur flat, with his own paw.

He can’t afford to make a bad impression, at the ceremony.

Quickly, Sedgeclan gathers. There aren’t many of them, and everyone’s been expecting it. Harebolt and Snowstreak pad up to sit by Wormturn, chatting with her in low voices.

Murekitturn sits neatly by his siblings, tucking his tail around his paws.

He’s trying not to meet Coniferstar’s eyes directly, worried the older tom will be able to read his desperation in his thoughts. Notice me, pick me, look at me, look at me, won’t you look at me?

He glances over at his siblings instead; big, pale Timberkit. Speckled, nervous-looking Saltkit. 

And Pinekit– his only brother. Ginger, like Murekit is, but darker, and more sturdily built; the second biggest, after Timberkit. Everytime Murekit looks at him now, he tries to drink in every detail. One day, he’ll be exiled. And Murekit will never see him again; the faint tabby striping on his tail, and legs. The mischievous twitching of his whiskers, when he’s going to pounce on one of their sisters. The warmth of his pelt, when they all curl up together in the sun, and drift off into sleep.

Unless–

Murekit looks back up to Coniferstar. Look at me. Look at me.

And he does. Just– briefly, Coniferstar glances down. Murekit freezes, the leader’s eyes boring into him; pale, and flat, and calm. His expression is unreadable.

And then he looks  up to sweep the clan. The chattering between the adults falls silent. “Today is a day that we should mark. The very first young, of our clan, receiving their apprentice names.”

Murekit lifts his chin, hoping the fur hasn’t sprung back out of place, where a messy tuft tends to stick out beside his shoulder. Pinekit jostles him, nudging his side with a grin.

Coniferstar says; “It feels only right that this should come at a holy time– during the darkest days, when the warmth of sun cannot tempt us to indolence, and the prey is hard– and mouths hungrier than ours stalk the tundra.”

The wind whistles around the camp. Saltkit huddles closer to her siblings, eyes huge and worried.

“But why is this a holy time? These days when we all wish we were curled up inside our dens, sheltering against the cold?” Coniferstar looks across his clan; studies each of them, in turn. “I will tell you, now. The story of our clan. And usher in, with this tale of the path, a new beginning– carried in these brave, young paws.”

He nods down at the group of kits. Murekit meets his eyes, unwilling to seem nervous. Is that a flicker of approval, in his leader’s face?

“In the clan of my birth,” Coniferstar says, “the land was easy. We didn’t have to fight for prey, or warmth; more cats grew old than didn’t, and warriors whiled away their idle days in play, and relaxation.”

It doesn’t sound so bad to Murekit. He glances at his littermates, remembering the hungry days before the clan. Seeing Pinekit and Saltkit withering away, little by little, as starvation gnawed at them. Hearing the desperation in Wormturn’s voice, as she promised them they’d be alright, even as her milk dried up, and her fur fell out, in patches. He tries not to let any longing show on his face, at the description of Coniferstar’s rich territory, the easy hunting.

Coniferstar carries on, meeting every cat’s eyes in turn, so it feels like he’s talking directly to each of them. “But the clan turned away from our ancestors; what use did cats have for Starclan, when the earthly world provided such bounty? They grew selfish, and lazy– without respect for starclan, they abandoned the warrior code, and lived like low, base animals. Even in that plenty, kits and elders starved. A warrior might catch a mouse for sport, and leave it rotting in the sun, while a queen, in the nursery, cried out for the meanest morsel.”

There is a noise, behind Murekit; a little breath. Wormturn– he’s not sure how he knows, only he would recognise his mother, no matter what. Is she remembering the hungry moons, as well? Thinking of a queen starving, with no one there to help?

“And so– as Featherclan had turned their backs on Starclan, Starclan turned their backs on it. They visited me, in my dreams, and delivered me a prophecy. I was newly-named, then, and hoped for a way to save my clan… but it was beyond saving. Instead– I would leave my clan, and go on to build something new.”

He closes his eyes, and then intones, solemnly:

“A cat of tender years will go / Beyond the place that trees can grow / To find a land that’s hard and cold / And gather up brave cats, and bold /  To those that linger in the dark / The Stars will grant their brightest spark / And life will spring, for worthy ones /  Untainted by the clans of sun.”

There is a silence, in the wake of this strange poem. Cats glance at one another. 

Forced to sit still too long, Pinekit fidgests, and Murekit wants to clobber him. Don’t you know how important it is that Coniferstar thinks well of you? You of all cats?

Their leader opens his eyes. They glow white-silver, in the moonlight, something nearly unnatural. 

Murekit finds that he believes it, after all. About Starclan, and the rest. That something…. else really has touched their leader.

“And what do you think that means– Harebolt?”

Murekit turns, surprised. Coniferstar doesn’t spare much attention for Harebolt, usually– not since Wormturn really started learning her herbs.

Harebolt looks as surprised as Murekit is; her ears lie back, briefly, then relax. “It’s about you, obviously.” Her tail twitches; is she irritated? “And it’s telling you to come find us.”

Coniferstar nods, one ear flicking in amusement. “Quite right. Starclan guided me to all of you. To new cats, who can build a new clan– if we are willing to endure this harsh tundra. Do you understand?”

He’s still looking at Harebolt; but there’s no warmth at all, in his eyes. Murekit’s pelt prickles– glad, for once, that the leader isn’t paying attention to him instead. 

Harebolt nods. “To those that linger in the dark. I get it.” Her tone is flat, echoing the prophetic words.

Snowstreak’s voice, when she cuts in, is not. “That’s why this time is special.” She looks up at Coniferstar, eyes glowing. “Right? Because– um.”

Coniferstar blinks, warmly, as Snowstreak falters. “Right you are. Because this time- this harsh time- is so little like the clans of the south. If we endure this– we prove we are more worthy cats, than they were. You have heard me say, from every frost, a thaw. This is what I mean. If we endure this hardship long enough– I believe that Starclan will grant us a great bounty. We must only prove we are capable of receiving it, without running astray.”

He glances up at the dark sky. “And that begins with these young cats.” When he turns down again, his manner is warm, familiar. “You have all waited very patiently. Now–”

He studies the kits, for a moment. Murekit’s skin burns, beneath his pelt. He resists the urge to squirm, and fidget, like Pinekit had been doing– though even Murekit’s troublesome brother is still, under their leader’s eye.

“Pinekit,” Coniferstar says. Murekit’s throat is dry. “And Saltkit. You have both reached the age of six moons. Clan law dictates it is time for you to take on the duties of an apprentice. From this day, until you have earned your warrior names, you will be known as Pinepaw, and Saltpaw. Your paws now walk the path of Sedgeclan cats, in full. I trust you will place them carefully.”

The two young cats step forward. Saltkit- no, Saltpaw- is shivering with nerves, and big Pinepaw presses his side to hers, offering wordless support. Murekit’s heart squeezes with affection for his brother. He could be an idiot– but no one would ever accuse him of being a bad brother.

Coniferstar blinks warmly at them– and then looks to the grown cats, behind them. “Snowstreak. You are ready to take on an apprentice. You have endured great hardship, and shown yourself to be a loyal and courageous cat. I believe you understand what it truly means, to be a warrior of Sedgeclan. You will be mentor to Pinepaw and Saltpaw– I expect you to pass on your wisdom.”

Snowstreak steps forward, too, her white-and-ginger fur fluffed up with pleasure. “I will!”

“Then touch noses with your apprentices, and let us all greet them by their new names.”

Snowstreak bends to touch her nose first to Pinepaw’s, and then- with a murmured word that Murekit doesn’t quite make out- to Saltpaw’s, too.

“Saltpaw!” Coniferstar calls. “Pinepaw!”

The clan, after an awkward few repetitions, joins in, and a ragged cheer goes up. Coniferstar’s tail twitches- just the once- as they struggle to arrange themselves into a proper chant. Murekit wonders if he’s remembering his old clan– the ceremonies must have been a lot smoother, with cats who knew their roles by heart.

Even though it’s kind of embarrassing, Murekit keeps chanting until everyone else has stopped, so his fading “Saltpaw! Pine…paw…” is the last to echo in the camp. Coniferstar– is that a look of approval, on the dark tabby’s face? It’s hard to tell, quite, in the dark.

Whatever it is, it vanishes as he begins to speak again. “Now. Murekit. Timberkit. I haven’t forgotten about you. It is time for you, as well, to be made apprentices. From this day forth, until you have earned your warrior names, you will be known as Murepaw, and Timberpaw. And I myself will mentor you.”

Murepaw- the name sends a thrill through him- finds his head spinning as Coniferstar springs from the splitstone to touch noses with him. He can pick out his clanmates’ voices as they chant his name.

“Murepaw! Timberpaw! Murepaw! Timberpaw!”

Their voices are a little less hesitant, this time.

In the middle of the racket, Murepaw meets Coniferstar’s eyes. “I’ll do my best,” he says, solemnly. “I’ll be a true warrior of Sedgeclan.”

Coniferstar purrs. “I know you will.”

He has to. If he doesn’t make a good impression– who else will convince Coniferstar that Pinepaw’s worth keeping around?

They part, after that, and Wormturn rushes over to congratulate her kits, and thank Coniferstar and Snowstreak for taking them on. The litter reunites, bumping their heads together and chattering excitedly– 

Only Harebolt lingers, on the outskirts. Watching them– alone.

[hopeinthebox]

bts + reductress headlines pt.14

[ominous-horse-noises]

anyway i want to reiterate that i hope the rat grinders are tpk'd, revived and uncorrupted solely bc i want them to have to spend senior year together. 'redeemed' doesnt necessarily mean friendly with the bad kids and honestly? its so much funnier if they continue being bitchy to each other but without the trying to end the world stuff. they've built plenty of positive relationships w/ former villains now it's time for the next stage: uneasy alliance buzzing with the tension of both sides trying to hold back the urge to clown on each other

introducing, fantasy high senior year: the group project

[ichxraaa]

chubby reader who is discouraged cause they’ll never experience a belly bulge meets demise when their boyfriend eavesdrops their call with a friend, worried that maybe that’s something they (the boyfriend) would be into

his cock so far up bullying your cunt as you need to open your mouth to try and breathe while your eyes roll back with the pure raw strength that is fucking you against the bed, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come, but he doesn’t care, all he cares about is the way your ass feels and looks as he thrusts into you and the perfect rhythm of the squelching lascivious sounds as he pistons inside you.

“you shouldn’t worry about stupid shit like that, i will fuck you so deep and good that you will feel me inside you for days”.

why is this toji, and bakugō and gojo in a way more condescending approach, and also porco, cause you know he’s savage, also eren cause he lacks delicacy and of course yaku cause he has no filter and no intention of letting you say something like that ever again.

[decarbry]

heroes always stop

[shawsimmer]

checking in on my babiesss

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 333

I once more believe Battinson Batman needs to be given a child. Or multiple. Multiple children. I am also once more rotating Ghosts Have Wings Au. 

So Batman, still early in his whole vigilante career ends up busting a shipment, nothing too surprising there. Pretty usual honestly. Except for what was in one of the crates already open. Because it looks like some sort of gemstones but… perfectly spherical. Strange. Suspicious. 

But it’s also late, er, early in the morning, and the GCPD is notoriously corrupt, so like, he’s not going to just leave the weird gemstones, each about the size of a plum or so. (Dear Gotham he’s apparently hungry, and might inwardly vow to never let anyone realize what his tired mind decided to use as measurement) 

So he, unknowingly spurred on by more than just a slight bit of ecto contamination, takes the strange spheres back home. Just puts them in his pockets and heads back to the manor that they moved back into after the whole Riddler mess. (He even found a cool cave! With a bunch of terrifying bats, but they made a glass separator! For safety!) 

But in Bruce’s defense of forgetting about them, he’s more than a little tired and hungry and just wants to sleep for a bit, y’know? So maybe he forgets about the gems as he falls asleep in the chair in the cave (Alfred was not pleased!) until he starts digging around for them. Erm. Did they fall out somewhere?? There’s no holes in his belt pockets… 

And maybe these sort of things shouldn’t slip his mind, the spheres had felt Weird with a capital W, but he gets forced to a circus and there’s an… accident. So maybe he pushed it away as not important because there’s now an angry grieving eight-year old living with him and he’s panickedly reading any and all sort of parenting books he can get a hold of because he has no clue what he’s doing. 

Yeah, maybe his back is itching like crazy no matter what he tries, and maybe he threw up the other day, but it’s fine. This is fine. 

….

Oh dear Gotham those are feathers, this is not fine- ALFREEED!

[heymacy]

IAN GALLAGHER + his journey with bipolar disorder

╰┈➤ “At times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you’re living with this illness and functioning at all, it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of." - Carrie Fisher

[unexpectedbrickattack]

"A Dad helping his kids beat a hard level in super mario land; 1990s"

Ref under the cut!

[courfee]

» I love you. That's all.

– Art Heist, Baby! @otrtbs

paintings I referenced here:

Gustav Klimt, Death and Life, 1908-1915 – Regulus' shirt has the same pattern as Death's cloak, James' shirt is patterned like the background of 'Life'

It was life and death, and death was there, on the left side of the canvas, waiting eagerly to pluck any one person from the conglomeration of life and claim them as its own. – chapter 28

Mark Rothko, Untitled (Seagram Murals), 1958 – Regulus bleeding out into the background

And he remembers looking out at the thick red blood on the marble floors and nonsensically, being reminded yet again, of Rothko. – chapter 34

Ivan Konstantinovich Aivazovsky, Gathering Storm, 1899 – Regulus' socks have this pattern

'Hang painting here?' – chapter 37

and here some little details and an alternative bloody version :) look at that snake ring being handed over <33

[luxaofhesperides]

For ghostlights: baby Ellie + tired Danny + Duke the baby whisperer?

He has no idea how his parents did it. 

Babies are exhausting. Toddlers more so. Any infants in the strange stage in-between? Doubly so. 

Ellie is wonderful and sweet and cute and such a terror that Danny genuinely has no idea how his parents managed to raise not one, but two kids. For all their eccentricities and absent-mindedness, he and Jazz turned out pretty well. Ignoring the whole halfa thing because that’s more his fault than theirs even if Jazz says they shouldn’t have created the dangerous environment in the first place.

That environment is exactly why Danny refuses to let Ellie go to his house in Amity Park. His parents say they’ve disabled all the weapons and ecto-sensors since he’s had to reveal himself as Phantom, but he knows that things slip their minds and if they can’t guarantee that the house is safe, then Ellie isn’t going in there. Simple as that. 

This means that they live somewhere else now. Danny had thought about it, during the hours Ellie was asleep and he was awake, exhausted and worn down to his bones, and took Jazz’s advice to accept Vlad’s offer of buying a house for him. Except he argued Vlad down to an apartment in a city of his choosing where he wouldn’t stand out too much and he would be safe, or as safe as he can be, from anyone trying to hunt down ghosts. 

So here they are. Standing in the empty living room of their new apartment in Gotham. 

Gotham may not be very safe as a city, but it’s good for two ghosts trying to pass as normal. 

Danny sighs yet again, and looks at the space he’ll need to fill. At least Vlad is footing the bill. It’s the least he can do for creating Ellie. Frostbite was the one who was able to stabilize her, though it was almost too late and resulted in her reforming as a baby, just one and a half years old. Jazz is the one who’s choosing most of the furniture, thankfully, so it’s something that Danny doesn’t need to worry about it.

It’s a new start to their lives and it feels so empty. So overwhelming. How did his parents do it? How do any parents do it?

Ellie smacks a small palm against his cheek and babbles lightly.

“I know, Ellie,” Danny says, giving her a tired smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll have this place looking good in no time.”

He adjusts her in his arms, then heads towards the bedroom. It’s the only room that has any furniture, and all that’s there is a bed, a crib, and a bookcase. There are a few boxes on the floor, labeled ‘bedroom’ and ‘clothing’ and ‘books’. Most of it came from his bedroom in Amity Park, but he’s pretty sure he caught Jazz sneaking a few things in before they closed the boxes and loaded them up into the car. 

“Can you be good for five minutes?” he asks Ellie. 

She babbles again and smacks his shoulder.

“I’m taking that as an agreement. Just let me open these boxes and start unpacking before you start causing trouble, okay?”

Ellie makes another sound, but it seems agreeable so Danny carefully lays her down in the crib and gets to peeling off the tape on the boxes. The opens the one labeled ‘bedroom’ first, finding blankets and sheets folded and stacked in vacuum sealed bags. One of them is his old childhood blanket, the one he carried around everywhere that was faded with age, barely blue, with white bunnies decorating it. 

He was so small when he had this. It makes him oddly emotional to unpack it and pass it on to Ellie, draping it over her so her pudgy little hands can grab at it. 

This is no time to cry, though! He forces himself to focus and makes his own bed, shaking out the sheets and fluffing up the pillows. He’ll worry about washing everything later; Vlad made sure to get an apartment with an in-unit washer and dryer, which means he was actually sensible while apartment hunting for Danny. 

He doesn’t mean to flop onto the bed once it’s made, but he ends up there anyways. He’s barely gotten a full six hours of uninterrupted sleep since Frostbite deemed Ellie healthy enough to leave his care. The drive up to Gotham was long and wore him down to his bones.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he does, drifting off as he wonders, distantly, when Jazz will be back from getting them dinner.

Ellie wakes him up at dawn with a loud cry. Danny jolts awake, heart pounding in his chest as he panics because Ellie isn’t here, she’s supposed to be in his arms, where is she? And then he sees the crib, where Ellie is staring at him through the bars, and he nearly collapses with relief. 

“Morning, El,” he says, voice rough from sleep, as he picks her up. She just stares up at him, then leans forward and rests her head against his shoulder.

It’s quiet moments like these that make his heart melt. Ellie’s had a hard life already; he wants to give her a better one, this time around. 

A quick check of the time on his nearly dead phone shows that it’s barely past six in the morning, and Jazz texted him a few times. All about furniture, saying that she didn’t want to wake them and that food is in the fridge. 

It’s only the mention of food that makes him realize how ravenous he’s feeling. Danny makes a beeline for the kitchen, ignoring everything else, and pulls out the boxes of take-out Jazz left stacked in the fridge. He devours it like he’s been starving for weeks, then gives Ellie her Ecto-Jello, the only food she’s allowed to eat until Frostbite gives the okay for solid, human food. 

Once he’s got her burped and cleaned up, Danny looks out of the kitchen and realizes that Jazz was very productive while he was asleep. The living room isn’t empty anymore; a dark green couch is against the wall, a low, rectangular coffee table made of dark wood in front of it. Two armchairs are on both sides of the couch, and a television has been installed, fixed into the wall. 

Jazz is asleep on the couch. Her legs hang off an armrest and she’s drooling slightly. 

Her phone is charging on the floor, so Danny takes it and snaps a picture of her for later teasing, then sends it to himself and writes a note to her that he’s going out with Ellie to explore the neighborhood.

He’s finally feeling more settled, energized from sleep and food.

In the warm dawn light spilling in through the windows, Danny looks down at Ellie and thinks that they’ll be just fine after all. 

. . .

Four months ago, Danny had hope. He was optimistic. 

Gotham was a fresh start, a new lease of life for Ellie. It is Danny’s attempt to be a single parent, sacrificing college for Ellie, and he’s planning to go out and beat the gangs black and blue if they start anymore shootouts in the next year.

He had just gotten Ellie to sleep. She was actually peacefully taking a nap.

And then a drive by shooter raced down the street, gunshots echoing down the road, and Ellie work up crying. She still hasn’t stopped, despite how Danny rocked her, soothing her as best he could.

They had been outside when Ellie fell asleep, her head on his shoulder. He had been catching up with Sam and Tucker when the car drove by, people ducking and crying out to avoid the bullets. Danny instinctively covered Ellie and made them both intangible, saving them from any stray bullets, but they ruined her nap and he needs to make them pay for that. 

“Shh,” he soothes, “You’re okay. We’re both fine. It’s okay, El, it’s okay.” 

Her little hands clutch at his back, twisting the fabric of his shirt, and she lets out a heartbreaking wail. He pats her back, hurrying down the street to get back to his apartment building, ignoring the looks people were giving them as they passed by. 

“I know it was scary, but you’re alright. You’re always safe with me, El.”

Ellie’s cries down down a little, but they don’t stop. She whimpers, burying her face against his shoulder as he finally reaches their apartment building.

The door’s locked, which wouldn’t be a problem except Danny can’t get his keys from his pocket. He knows he has them! But his pocket refuses to relinquish them and he has to stop every few seconds to pat Ellie’s back, trying in vain to calm her down. 

“We’ll be inside in a second,” he tells her, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice, “as soon as I can get these freaking keys!”

“Hey, you alright?”

Danny startles, whirling around so fast it makes Ellie go quiet, clinging to him so she doesn’t get flung into the air. There’s a guy standing before him in a gray hoodie, looking at him with clear concern. It speaks to Danny’s level of constant exhaustion that he hadn’t clocked someone sneaking up behind him. 

The guy offers an awkward smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you or anything. Um, do you need me to open to door? I live here too.”

Danny wonders for a moment if this someone dangerous, someone hoping to hurt Ellie, but she starts to cry again and he steps to the side. “Please. I can’t get my keys.”

“I’m Duke, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“Danny,” he replies, watching as Duke pulls out a large key ring, jangling with the amount of keychains on it, and easily opens the door. “I’ve been here a few months, but I’m usually inside. Or walking around in the mornings with this little monster.”

“That would explain it,” Duke says as he holds the door open, letting Danny in first. “I’m usually in classes at GCU, but I decided to take a mental health day after my lab, so here I am.”

Danny walks in and waits for Duke to follow, making sure the door closes properly behind them. “Thanks. How is GCU? What do you study? I was thinking of going there myself once she gets a little older and can go to school.”

“Oh, I’m majoring in English and Human Services.” He goes to say more, but Ellie wails again and Danny winces.

“I’m so sorry. That drive by woke her up and it’s really rattled her.”

“Hey, no need to apologize. I get it, Gotham is rough to kids.”

Danny tries rocking her back and forth, but it doesn’t help. He resigns himself to another hour of her crying before she exhausts herself, and makes for the stairs, going up to the fourth floor. Duke holds open the door again, then follows after them. It makes Danny wonder if Duke is planning to do something to them, then decides he can beat Duke in a fight, so it’s fine.

Duke doesn’t try to hurt them or steal Ellie away. He opens the door to their floor and stops before they do. “I’m in here,” he says, “If you ever need me to open more doors.”

“Thanks. Um, actually, I might need help opening mine?”

Duke just smiles and makes his way back to them, following them farther into the hall until Danny stops in front of his apartment. 

“If I could just get my keys,” he starts.

“Here, let me hold her for a second so you can get them,” Duke offers. Danny wants to insist that it’s fine, but Ellie cries directly into his ear and Danny, at the end of his rope, passes her over. 

Like magic, Ellie settles as soon as she’s in Duke’s arms. She sniffles and hides her face away, clutching to Duke’s hoodie, but she stops crying. They both go still, surprised, and stare down at her. 

“Seriously?” Danny says as he finally pulls out his keys, “Are you trying to say that I’m the problem?”

Ellie babbles lightly, and Duke turns his head to futilely hide his grin.

He grumbles as he unlocks the door and pushes it open. Ellie is acting as if she’s never been upset before a day in her life, making herself at home in Duke’s arms. 

“I can’t believe this. Betrayed by my own blood.”

Duke laughs as he follows Danny into his apartment, lightly patting Ellie’s back. “It’s always the smallest, cutest ones that do this.”

“Yeah? Do you work with a lot of kids or something? Used to being betrayed by the little ones?”

“I don’t work with kids per se,” Duke says, “But my foster family is a hot mess and the youngest of them likes to keep us all on our toes.”

“Family,” Danny says in a tired, fond tone.

“Family,” Duke agrees.

With his door open and Ellie calm, Danny’s ready to just lay face down on the floor for the rest of the day and not deal with anything else. He moves to take Ellie back, holding his arms out, and Duke tries to pass her over.

The key word being tries. 

Ellie tightens her grip and kicks at Danny. She refuses to be taken away from Duke, making him awkwardly try to pry her off his hoodie. Danny really hopes Duke doesn’t notice how she goes slightly intangible to make his hands fall through her arms and legs. It shouldn’t be noticeable, but it’s hard to focus on anything but a kid that clings to you, so Danny holds out for Duke’s goodwill and silence.

“As nice as it is to meet you, you need to go back to your… parent?” Danny nods when Duke looks at him in askance. “You need to go back to your parent. Okay? Come on, kid, he’s waiting for you.”

Ellie shakes her head, makes a frustrated noise, and then turns and reaches out a grabby hand towards Danny. 

She still refuses to be taken from Duke when Danny tries to pick her up again, so he settles with just letting her hold two of his fingers. 

“I’m so sorry about this,” he says to Duke, face burning. This is why he hasn’t been going out and being social since he moved in; Ellie is a handful even on the best days, and Danny doesn’t want someone to judge him as unfit to parent her and have her taken away.

Duke shakes his head, stepping closer. “It’s all good, man. I don’t mind. It’s not like I had any plans today. I’m already skipping my classes, might as well spend it with you two than sleep all day.”

“Are you sure? I’d be happy to invite you in, but I know Ellie can be a lot and not everyone wants to spend their day off with a baby.”

“I’m sure. Besides, I’d just be down the hall anyways. It’s no skin off my back, man.”

“Well,” Danny says, stepping to the side to give Duke full access to his open doorway, “Come on in, then.”

Ellie keeps them connected, one hand in Duke’s hoodie and the other holding Danny’s fingers, and though her cheeks are still red from how hard she had been crying, she’s calm now with her eyes shining with mischief. 

As the door closes behind them, Danny realizes that this is the first time someone he’s not related to has been inside his apartment. Not even Vlad has come in, always choosing to invite Danny and Ellie out for lunch instead. 

It should make him nervous, but Duke is calm and easy going and kind. 

He’s making silly faces at Ellie to make her laugh, completely at ease with her in his arms, as if he’s done this a thousand times before. 

Gotham is a second chance at life for Ellie. It’s a sacrifice for Danny, to be alone and without friends or family around. He’d been ready to give up everything for Ellie, to focus solely on raising her, but with Duke filling his apartment with laughter, he thinks that he can make a life here too.

All he needs to do is take that first step, reach his hand out, ask Duke to stick around.

He can do this.

[breelandwalker]

Weekly reminder that it's not okay to illegally download and distribute free copies of recently-published books from a niche market where the authors depend directly on monthly royalties to pay their bills.

Books are a luxury and if you can't afford a title, save your pennies or check out a copy from your local library. There are plenty of free resources and public domain texts available in the meantime.

It's worth mentioning that plenty of authors in the witchcraft and pagan markets make a point of providing free resources and advice to the community on a regular basis, myself included. To take that information and then turn around and steal from us on top of it is not only petty, it's cruel, especially considering the financial hardship we're all facing in the current economy.

Download overpriced textbooks and public domain titles, not witch books.

[renonv]

Good morning!! Can we see baby romano dressed as a little tomato?? And mabye italy dressed as a potato?

Omg hi!! It’s evening over here now so sorry it took me so long!! But I loved this idea sm and got carried away,,, hope u enjoy!!

[cozylittleartblog]

somewhere with shining lights (print available on my etsy)

[fangirltothefullest]

Eons ago I was crying because Sai ate this image and refused to give it back. It acted like this picture just did not exist and I spent hours trying to recover it. SOMEHOW when I transferred my folders from my laptop to my PC, the image magically and miraculously reappeared and I found it today and I am ECSTATIC for y'all to finally see it! Merman Roman in all his pretty glory. I’m so happy TTwTT <3

If you like it, please reblog it! <3

[jojo-schmo]

I wish I could tell the original artist that this drawing permanently changed the entire direction of my life in 2009. I want to shake their hand, look them in the eye, and admit I would not be who I am today if this drawing didn’t exist.

EDIT: Original artist is @ivynajspyder !!!!