All The Reblogs Are Just. So Good.

This is so accurate oml

Pride & Prejudice (2005), dir. Joe Wright

I’ll let you guess

reblog if you're gay, not gay, slightly gay, or if you just want to launch donald trump into a dying star

Exactly!

“He cut her hair too short”, “Why couldn’t he make it longer it’s so ugly”, have you ever considered the fact that HE WAS DYING??? He didn’t exactly have time to be like ‘oh how long would you like it dear, let’s make sure there is a good length!’ ALSO have you considered how freeing it would feel to have all that pressure gone?? Like she is free of her burdens both literally and figuratively. And also it’s not even that ugly, like those layers are amazing! Anyways, I get so mad when people criticize the haircut, like appreciate the symbolism please! God I love this movie

I was laughing with a friend about an idea for Harry Potter. That after second year interhouse camaraderie was at an all time high because Harry helped establish the Hogwarts Fight club.

Naturally what happens at fight club stays at fight club and magic is there to make that possible. The only way you even know or can talk to someone about it is if they were within the secrecy runes some during the actual fight. If they weren’t eavesdroppers will mostly just hear gibberish.

The room is established somewhere deep in the dungeons because they’re endless and maze like and you have to have a certain item/guide to find the place or else you’ll just get lost.

It does fucking wonders. All houses are welcome. Magical fights or physical brawls are your options. No maiming or killing. Dark magic is allowed, but only if both parties agree. First years are not allowed to fight and you can only challenge people within one number grade of your own.

It turns out that when students have the opportunity to have a seemingly all out brawl that relations on the surface improve.

Originally this had just been a duel between Harry and Draco. Then Ron challenged Nott and Hermione challenged Pansy. One of the Ravenclaws in their year called Neville a squib and Susan Bones was not gonna let that slide. Soon, With the help of the twins and some other older students who wanted in, they’d created a secrecy circle in the dungeons with Runes which was the only way anyone was comfortable with this continuing because it literally made snitching near impossible.

Needless to say when all the third years (Harry’s Grade) started getting along rather well despite house colors and prejudice, others got curious.

Soon invites we’re given to older students and Harry’s fairly certain that Hogwarts is sentient and expanded the dungeon to make way for their growing numbers.

Soon the entire school was getting along. You get students were seeking out older students for tutoring. The great hall was a multicolored mess as kids sat together at any table to strategized or make bets.

After a particularly cheap game of quidditch between Gryffindor and Slytherin, half the school disappeared into the dungeons to watch Woods and the other Caption Duke it out magicless.

Who knew that the best way to have everyone get along was to let them Duke it out behind closed doors?

Honestly, I don’t see why ppl have such a problem with it

necromancy is literally fine

Oh my gosh, I hope everything turns out ok

So yesterday I had a fainting episode so bad that the paramedics got called, which isn't funny, but what IS funny is that I kept passing put while I was on the floor and according to my long suffering friends everutime I woke back up I'd announce "I'm back!"

Then usually promptly pass out again

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

Damian is de-aged to a baby and lost in Gotham. A magic user hit him with some kind of spell. His legs don’t work as well and he has trouble walking. That’s when a man appears and squats down with a tilt of his head.

“Yea, you are definitely not supposed to be out here, little guy.”

Damian glares at the man, early twenties, stubble along his jaw, ragged clothes, and dark bags under his eyes.

The man turns his head to look at the brick wall.

“Are you sure?”

And now he was talking to a wall. Curses. Of course he would be found by a crazy person.

The man suddenly hangs his head with a deep sigh. He regains himself quickly and stands. Moving closer to put his hands under Damian arms to lift him to perch on his hip.

Damian squirms to get down but refuses to make a sound. The last time he opened his mouth like this it was a pathetic baby sound. He couldn’t let this man see him like this.

“Looks like you’re coming home with me, little guy. I can tell you’ve got some spirit in you. Good, you’ll need it.”

Not ominous at all.

Damian stays with the man, mostly because he couldn’t physically drive a car, but also because he was almost always with him. The man would talk to air at the most random times. Obviously a schizophrenic. But Damian had to admit this man, Danny he comes to find out through a neighbor baby talking at him, has been genuinely trying to take care of him and take care of him well. Well, to the best of his abilities anyway. 

He feeds him organic purées that don’t taste half bad, except the carrots, that one was unacceptable. Danny cleans him regularly despite his crappy apartment and makes sure he is dressed appropriately for the weather. He makes an effort to take him out to the park to play in the sandbox or just walk around discovering ‘new’ things.

Damian doesn’t need a parent, he outgrew the concept when he was five and technically he already had one, but he could tell Danny would make an excellent father. Some mistakes can be overlooked compared to the effort he was putting in.

The only concerning thing was the talking to thin air. It took Damian an embarrassing amount of time to figure out the reason Danny was visiting all these random people and the graveyard. (Sometimes he will set Damian down to ‘play’ in the grass at the cemetery. It was quite odd.)

He was talking to ghosts. It wasn’t thin air or imaginary friends, no it was actually dead people. The reason Damian actually believes this is for two reasons.

One, Danny shows true results. Damian observes closely whenever they visit a ‘client’ and Danny always has accurate information despite never looking up or researching anything going in.

Two, he never calls himself a medium or psychic. He doesn’t boast about his ability to see ghosts. He does what he does to help the ghosts move on to the other side. Closure is what Danny always says. Closure for the family and the victim. In Gotham, there are a lot of victims.

Damian adjusts to his new life with Danny. It’s been five months and he’s getting used to being small and vulnerable. He’s allowed to be messy and whiny and childish. Danny never scolds him like Mother did. The man has never hit him or raised his voice at him and never expects anything from him. He encourages his progression to speak and walk, but doesn’t expect the best out of him.

It’s… nice. A good break if anything.

They are at the park when one of the bats spot him and pauses. Danny is blowing bubbles into the air and Damian tries to pop as many as he can. It’s a silly game with no clear rules, but Damian finds it entertaining nonetheless.

“Hi there! Is he yours?”

Dick Grayson wears a bright smile, but Damian can see the tightness around his eyes.

“Huh? Oh, yea, this is Damian,” Danny answers.

He had written it with the wooden blocks Danny had given him one week in. Danny took one look at the name on the ground, laughed loudly and ran with it.

“Do you mind if I say hi? He’s so cute.”

Danny looks puzzled by the request but ends up shrugging his shoulders, not seeing a problem with letting a stranger get close to Damian. (Damian knew Danny’s intense eyes were watching Dick’s every move. He was very protective like that.)

“Sure.”

Dick squats down to search Damian’s green eyes. Damian stares back just as intensely.

“Hey there, Damian. My name is Dick.”

Damian gives him a flat look at Dick’s terrible introduction.

“Grayson.”

Although with his little baby teeth not fully in it sounds more like ‘way-shah’.

Relief flashes across Dick’s face and he gives Damian a reassuring smile. It’s not as reassuring at he thinks it is. It promises to bring him home and restore him to his original age. Damian doesn’t know if that’s what he wants anymore.

Dick stands and gives Danny some imaginary excuse to leave quickly. Damian watches him go and so does Danny.

“Funny guy, huh Dami?”

Damian doesn’t respond and Danny notices his change in mood.

“Come here, little guy.”

He knows what Danny is going to do and willingly goes. He is pulled up into the man’s lap and held between two surprisingly muscular arms. Danny’s hugs are nice and warm. They aren’t too tight like Dick’s nor are they stiff like Bruce’s. He never thought he could enjoy human contact, but Danny has been showing him things about himself he didn’t ever know. Turns out he does like hugs and playing airplane and when Danny runs his fingers through his hair when he’s really sleepy.

“Let’s go home a little early today, huh? I’ll make spaghetti and you can be as messy as you want,” Danny promises.

Damian hums. Yes, that sounds nice.

That night Batman comes in through the window. Damian is waiting.

“Damian,” Batman whispers.

“Bah-mun.”

The flat, unamused stare is what gives him away.

Batman lets out a breath silently and reaches into the crib Danny had gotten him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Batman jerks into action, twisting to face Danny who had appeared suddenly. The door behind him is still closed.

Batman stays quiet, silently studying the man before him dressed in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt.

Danny tilts his head as he does the same. Damian has never seen the man so serious. He silently worries for the man. He didn’t want him getting hurt to unnecessarily protecting him from his father.

“I’d have to break your arm if you tried to do what it looks like you’re doing.”

Danny says it so plainly. So simple.

Batman straightens.

“He isn’t yours.”

He doesn’t say Damian is his. He doesn’t claim him as his own. Just that Danny shouldn’t have him.

Damian silently agrees because technically he’s right. He doesn’t deserve Danny. He can’t keep playing house like he’s an actual baby. But Damian is also selfish and over the last few months has been taught that it’s okay to ask for things he wants even if it’s not inherently beneficial. The stuffed dog he sleeps with every night is proof of that.

So Damian says nothing.

“He is now,” Danny answers simply like there was no other answer to such a statement.

“He needs to go back to where he belongs.”

“Over my dead body,” is the immediate response.

They stare each other down until Danny scoffs.

“Don’t think I’m not petty enough to fight you, Batman. I’ll fight anyone who wants to take him from me. Damian is mine.”

When Batman tries to forcibly take him, he ends up with a concussion, a blood nose, and two broken arms. Red Robin finds him in a dumpster the next morning.

The story continues with Damian learning how to be a child his age, Danny protecting him and doting on his brilliant son, and the Batfam’s frequent failed attempts to kidnap Damian back to them.

My cat gouged a hole in my lip accidentally and I forgave him immediately after stopping the bleeding and gave him treats as an apology for briefly saying his name semi loudly so I can’t judge either.

dapper / disheveled