#here come the dads

[daisywords]

One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.

Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.

It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?

Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.

[egophiliac]

queen of diamonds, upright + reversed 💎

I've redone this like eighty times, I have to just be done with it now and stop staring at all my mistakes oh no 🫠

[rin-may-1103]

Delilah's language (part two)

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"Tomorrow?" Danny repeated, glad he had set his cup down.

Mr. Wayne smiled, relieved Danny hadn't completely brushed him off. "yes, it's tomorrow. Damian, my son, is a huge conservationist. he gets it from his mother."

Danny blinked but before he could cut in, Mr. Wayne continued, "Oh! not that I don't care about the environment and stuff, it's just-"

"I get it," Danny reassured. he did not want to get stuck listening to Mr. Wayne try and fail to 'fix' his self-perceived mistake. "but I still don't really understand why you want me there..."

like sure, the kid's a fan of Danny or whatever (he was still trying to wrap his mind around that one.) but would the kid actually want Danny at his party? wouldn't that be like... he didn't know, weird? to just have this random guy from Illinois show up?

"Right!" Mr. Wayne coughed, scratching his face in embarrassment. "once Damian learned that the purple back gorillas would be in Gotham, I suggested we have his birthday party at the zoo. He told me he wanted to know everything he could about their species. so, I invited all the scientists working with the gorillas to the party so he could talk to them."

Danny nodded in understanding when Mr. Wayne glanced at him, even if Danny thought that that was the most fruitloop way he could have gone about it. then again, Danny's pretty sure all billionaires were fruit loops...

"He started digging into their history once he learned about them, and after some digging, he discovered that you basically saved their species. He has declared that he must meet you at all costs. something about needing to know their language?" Mr. Wayne trailed off, looking at Danny as if to see if he knew what his son meant.

If the kid was looking to Danny so he could learn the language then that meant he read the same paper Danny had. the scientists that had dedicated themselves to studying Delilah had printed one claiming that the purpleback Gorilla language was apparently hard to learn. (Even if Danny had been able to understand it pretty easily and told them so.)

they had listed Danny as the only person fluent in it so far, which now that Danny thought about it was kinda rude. they hadn't asked to put his name in there and now look at him! being visited by Fruitloops looking for him to be at their son's birthday parties.

anyways.

so, if the kid, Damian, read the same paper, he must have concluded it would be easier to learn the language from someone who was already 'fluent' than try and teach himself. (something Danny can't blame the kid for, but still.)

"KIDS!" Dad's voice bellowed from downstairs making Mr. Wayne startle and turn to glance down the hall. "IT WORKS! IT WORKS!"

...

"so, when do we need to leave?" Danny asked, all previous paranoia and reservations thrown out the window.

mr. Wayne slowly turned back, his brows furrowed in confusion. "we, uh, we'd have to leave in," he glanced down at his watch, his eyes widening a little, "an hour. I have to leave in an hour."

mr. Wayne then frowned as he looked back up at Danny, "I just need your parent's permission and you can come with me now, or I can arrange for another flight for you later tonight or early tomorrow?'

danny did not want to find out how they were going to test their new machine, so, he turned and cupped his hands around his mouth as he shouted, "HEY MA! CAN I GO WITH MR. WAYNE TO HIS KID'S BIRTHDAY PARTY?!"

it was silent for a second before she shouted back, "SURE! JUST BE BACK BEFORE WE LEAVE FOR OUR TRIP!"

oh, right. his parents had a trip planned for their anniversary. something about a huge ghost or demon trap in Wyoming they wanted to investigate.

"YOU'RE LEAVING TOMORROW THOUGH!" Danny shouted back, "DAMIAN'S BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW! I CAN'T GO IF I WANT TO BE BACK IN TIME!"

"OH! UH, THEN JUST BE SAFE! TAKE YOUR BLASTERS WITH YOU!"

Danny blinked, then shrugged. He could do that. turning back he found Mr. Wayne staring at the floor, his brows raised and furrowed in concerned confusion. Danny didn't know someone could make a face like that, but seeing as Mom had finally gotten Mr. Lancer to curse in front of him last year, it wasn't that surprising.

"let me pack my bag and then we can get going," Danny announced, standing up and grabbing his cup from the table, silently offering to take Mr. Wayne's as well. the man handed him his full cup and watched as Danny walked away.

well, at least Danny had already told the other ghosts to leave him alone for the rest of the week. they shouldn't get into too much trouble while he's gone. speaking of trouble, Mr. Wayne lived in Gotham, a place riddled with crime and violence.

dupping the cups into the sink, Danny turned and rushed up the stairs. unplugging his phone, Danny sent Sam and Tucker a text to let them know he wouldn't be in amity for the rest of today and tomorrow. he also let them know he'd keep them updated.

once done with that, Danny turned to his closet and rummaged around until he found his old backpack. pulling it out, he dumped the contents onto his desk and made quick work of packing his essentials. Clothes, phone chargers, and ectoplasm in case of emergencies. Mr. Wayne said he'd pay for the travel fair and hotel expenses, so Danny only needed to worry about food.

glancing in the mirror, Danny finally noticed he was still dressed in his pj's. he took a second to debate whether he really cared enough to get dressed properly or not before shrugging. Mr. Wayne's already seen him in them and they're comfy, no point in changing.

zipping up his bag, Danny tossed it over his shoulder and quickly ran downstairs. Mr. Wayne was walking around the room, studying a few of the leftover project pieces that his parents had left lying around. man, Jazz was going to be so annoyed once she learned they hadn't been picking up after themselves. again.

"Alright, Mr. Wayne. I'm ready when you are." Danny greeted, stepping into the room. the man turned to look at him, a strained smile on his face, "Just Bruce is fine."

"Alright, mr. bruce then." Danny agreed, gesturing for the man to start making his way to the door.

mr. Bruce heaved a sigh, shook his head in resignation, and turned to walk out the door. digging his keys out of his pocket, Danny turned to shout into the house one more time, "BYE MA, DAD! I'M LEAVING! HAVE FUN ON YOUR TRIP!"

not waiting for a response, he closed the door and locked it. turning around, he found Mr. Bruce studying him. lifting his brow in confusion, Danny started making his way down the steps and over to Mr. Bruce's fancy car. why the man had a fancy car when he said he'd be flying Danny didn't know, but he's pretty sure it has something to do with image or something.

Vlad did the same thing after all.

Next

[demaparbat-hp]

Izumi (steambaby) sketches.

[mobius-m-mobius]

#happy anniversary to remembering this actually happened 😘✌️

Loki S2 Anniversary x Episode 5 - “Science/Fiction”

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 126

You know what would be hilarious? 

Constantine comes into one of those meetings as he sometimes does every blue moon. Though the proper word would be storms into a meeting and practically slams a whole stack of papers down. “Can someone bloody explain to me why the American-fucking-government is trying to go to war with the fucking Infinite Realms?!” 

The Justice League is of course alarmed and confused- and also John weren’t you in Hell?! Yeah, he was, where the fuck do you think he found out about this? 

Now if you’ll excuse him he’s going back to the House of Mysteries with his now haunted trench coat. John, John Constantine what the fuck do you mean by that? No don’t just leave, don’t leave this mess just for them- JOHN! 

[zoe-oneesama]

Now pick a side Marinette!

Episode 43 Part 11

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Season 1, Season 2, Season 3, Season 4, Season 5

Ep 41, Ep 42, Ep 44, Ep 45, Ep 46, Ep 47

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[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny is not enjoying the homeless runaway lifestyle.

He would be the first to admit he was a bit of a cleanfreak, it was a side effect of growing up with mad scientist parents who would often place bottles of dangerous chemicals among bottles of fruit juice thier children had in the fridge. He grown into the habit of sorting through things as a means of survival.

Its not that he hated clutter, its that he hated mess and disorganization and feeling dirty. All of which he was feeling now.

So when Danny saw Brucie Wayne from the TV shop window of the dirty Gotham street he was on, he froze. This tall, dark haired blue eyed man was a jolly idiot. He was just like his dad. He had never seen anyone act like his dad before and he missed him so so much. And what do you know.. this guy collect black haired blue eyed kids like pokemon cards. And well...Danny was a child who had recently lost everything. His family, his friends, his home and desperately seeking out anything familiar.

So Danny starts following Bruce around trying to clean up after him and take care of him like he did with Jack Fenton in hopes of showing Bruce how useful he can be, but the amount of help Bruce needed was surprisingly low and what little he needed was swiftly taken care of by the butler and children he already had before Danny could even react.

Danny needed a new plan...

[willowser]

really what prompted my double boy dad bakugou post was the idea of his older son — who is six, nearing seven — coming out of his room with messy, sleep-mussed hair and wandering into the kitchen on an early morning when katsuki's getting ready for work.

and your youngest is a little terror. spoiled rotten, katsuki thinks, was too babied and that's why he doesn't listen and has temper tantrums in the middle of the floor and is already throwing punches at three. katsuki's old witch of a mother thinks he'll be bulkier than his older son and twice as mean, prone to pinning his brother to the ground until he's declared the greatest.

(katsuki feels both horror and pride, at the very thought.)

it hasn't always been easy for your oldest; becoming a big brother never is. not that katsuki would know what that's like, but he hated to even share a playground with deku, much less share his one and only mommy, so he can only imagine what his own son went through when his brother arrived.

but he's been great about it, which comes as no surprise because his oldest has always been great about everything. gets his little brother out of bed and reminds him of his manners—even as he's getting whacked—gives up his toys just so the baby won't cry. he's too smart for his own good, acting like a big boy now—and it makes katsuki nostalgic in a way that hurts.

there hasn't been a lot of time for just the two of them. not like there used to be.

so when his firstborn comes to stand beside him in the kitchen, to lean his head against his dad's hip and rub at his sleepy eyes—katsuki just ruffles his already messy hair, before giving his ear a little tug.

"should be asleep," he grumbles to him, "sun's not even up yet."

his son only shrugs, yawns hard; despite this, he says, "'m not tired."

katsuki snorts and continues with his routine: finishes his protein shake, gives the kid a sip when he thinks he wants one (he doesn't really, though he tries not to make a face at the taste as he nods, as if he likes it), makes sure he's got all his work shit in his bag for patrol later. and his son is mostly quiet, content to share in the morning just between the two of them after katsuki sits him on the counter.

and then he asks, "can i come to work with you?"

on instinct, katsuki glances at his shut bedroom door, where you're still fast asleep, on the other side, and then down the hallway to where his youngest is sleeping, too.

technically, the kid probably could because you're off work today, and you could come pick him up later before katsuki has to head out, but—

"your brother won't be happy if i take you and not him."

and your oldest is a good big brother. has more patience than katsuki ever did, knows how to share—but on this morning that the two of them are indulging in, he only shrugs.

"well," he sighs—and he sounds so grown up, sounds like you when you're leveling with katsuki. "if he wanted to go then he should have got up, too."

"that why you're awake?" katsuki frowns, though his son only shrugs again. the idea that he's gotten up way too early, at the ass-crack of dawn just to have some extra time with his dad is too—

"yeah," katsuki murmurs, nodding at him to hop off the counter. "get your socks on so we can go."

there won't be anything for him to do in the agency office, besides get an endless amount of cups of water from the dispenser and all the candy in the receptionist's bowl and attention from the older ladies that thinks he's just so stinking cute.

but at least they'll be together, just the two of them. like old times.

[floofanflurr]

They’re besties, tbh.

Comic under the cut!

They’re making matching clothes for everyone.

You can’t tell me they wouldn’t bond over clothing customization.

Chara’s got their Mr. Dad Guy sweater, and Papyrus has his jog boy/cool dude shirts. Put ‘em together and you get ALL fun antics and custom clothing.

[firewasabeast]

once a year tommy goes to this little cafe outside of LA and sits at the same table and orders the same meal. he's done it since he got back from the army. no one knows about it except for the owner of the cafe, steve, who's been there since day one. he didn't always go alone. when he was young he would go with his mom. it was a yearly tradition when they'd go back-to-school shopping. they went right before he was shipped off to afghanistan too, just because they'd miss their usual date. when tommy was away, his mom died of a sudden heart attack. he didn't even find out about it for a few weeks.

he didn't go for a couple of years after that. the anniversary of their annual cafe date was somehow worse than the anniversary of her death. but one year, something inside him screamed for him to go back. go have that meal that they loved so much. sit at that table. do it for her. maybe you'll even feel her there? so he goes. and steve remembers him. how could he ever forget tommy? he'd watched that kid grow up!

the first year he went back was hard. he barely ate the food, felt indescribably lonely, and once he got back to his car he sobbed for nearly half an hour before he could even drive away.

then he came back the next year, and the next, and the next. he kept coming back, always alone. even when he had people in his life, he'd come alone.

then one year steve looked over at the table, knowing tommy should be arriving soon, and saw two men sitting there. he went over to tell them they'd have to move- the table was reserved, but halfway over he stopped. it was tommy... with someone this time. the other guy was looking around, then leaning in close to tommy. it looked like he was asking questions. he reached over the table and took tommy's hand and squeezed it and tommy... smiled. he smiled a real smile that reached his eyes. steve hadn't seen that smile since the last time he came with his mom.

so steve walks over to the table to say hello, like always. to ask him about his life and what he's been up to this last year. he'd always say "not much, really. nothing new." but this time he kept his smile, motioned toward the man across from him and introduced him as, "My boyfriend, Evan Buckley, or Buck. Evan, this is Steve."

and this boy, Buck, he stands and shakes steve's hand, asks to pull up another chair, says, "i heard you knew tommy's mom?"

steve nods. "i did." because while tommy only came once a year, his mom came more often. it was her little safe haven away from home.

"i've heard a lot about her from tommy," this buck said, a bright smile on his face. "but i'd like to know more. what was she like?"

so steve sat, and talked and talked, and the boys listened- Buck listened.

tommy never came to the cafe alone again.

[egophiliac]

just thinking about hair and faces

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #155

Tony can be... a bit overbearing with his helicopter parent tendencies. To combat this, Peter sets up a small protocol with FRIDAY. 

Any time Tony wants to do something paranoid or invasive, FRIDAY is to send him a helpful article first, with titles like "Excessive Surveillance Can Harm Adolescent Development, Study Finds" and "Why Teens Need Privacy From Their Parents"

Peter leaves the choice of articles up to FRIDAY, trusting her to send ones that fit the situation.

While this protocol does get Tony to reconsider some of his more... extreme impractical requests, in most cases it fails to change his mind. Being hands-off about Peter's safety is not something he can do -- not when he knows the kinds of dangers this particular kid could face.

He's grateful for the insight that the protocol has given him, though. So instead of removing it, he decides to add to it. He asks FRIDAY to make it a two-way street. Now, whenever Peter complains about one of Tony's safety protocols, FRIDAY will send an article to help him understand

However, Tony doesn't anticipate the kinds of articles FRIDAY will choose. While she continues to send Tony studies and editorials, to Peter she sends news reports from Tony's past

Peter's mad that Tony has put trackers in everything he owns? -- "Tony Stark Still Missing: Inside Month Three of the Harrowing Search"

Peter hates the constant health monitoring that FRIDAY does when he's in the tower? -- "Death Wish or Death Sentence? Stark Behavior Tied to Secret Illness that Almost Cost Him His Life"

It goes on and on. For every seemingly insane overreach, there's a story, an experience Tony is trying to protect Peter from. 

They both still disagree about how much protection is too much, but at least they understand each other better now

[nedlittle]

so i work for a small regional museum. remotely, i should add. the museum itself is about 2000km west, so i've never actually been there but i research and write articles about local history for them. and because the town was only formally settled in the 1920s and a lot of the museum's supporters are older, the majority of the history i write about is within, or just outside of living memory. this means that people will comment on our posts with memories or connections of their own. they'll tag their friends and family and say 'remember this?'

a few week ago, i wrote a week's worth of posts about immigration, largely displaced persons in the aftermath of the second world war. there was an outpouring of memories and people tagging their family members and sharing them. our notifications were blowing up with people saying "thanks for writing about my uncle" and "i knew them when i was young, but i never knew their story" and "she looks so beautiful here" and "our families used to get together for dinners, i'm still friends with his daughter."

regular people, non-historians, are inclined to think of history as a monolithic past leading up to the present; an easy timeline of textbook names and events. and we think of museums largely the same way. you have the louvre and you have the smithsonian and maybe a modern art museum or a niche museum for skeletons or canoes or one specific guy. museums are reserved for the big things, but they're also for the little things and people that will never be in textbooks.

and i'm thinking about the way people responded to those posts, seeing their own history remembered with the same reverence as the big stuff. maybe you never knew the people being written about, or maybe you did, and for a few days, they are alive again, and your neighbours and your classmates and your councilmen are remembering your family, and they are alive.

[livwritesstuff]

Steve comes home from work early one day to see that not only is his kindergartener, Hazel, home from school (which is normal), his third grader, Robbie, is also home (which, seeing as there are still several hours until when her school bus would usually be dropping her off, is not normal).

Steve: Oh, Jesus.

Steve: What’d you do?

Robbie: *no response*

Eddie, prodding his daughter: Explain.

Eddie: Own your shit, girlie.

Robbie: *continues to silently fume on the couch*

Eddie: Fine.

Eddie: When I picked up Hazel, the principal made me take her home too after what was described to me as a relentless verbal onslaught against – wait for it –

Eddie: A first grader.

Steve, baffled: Robbie – what the fuck?

Robbie: *positively massive eye roll*

Robbie: She was being mean to Hazel.

Robbie: All I did was tell her that if she messes with Hazel, then I’m messing with her.

Steve: *long, tired sigh*

Steve: I just…

Steve: Robbie – you pushed Hazel down the stairs yesterday.

Steve: On purpose.

Steve: For my sake, just pick a side.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 293

Jason takes a deep breath. He takes a deep breath, in for ten seconds, out for eight, and just takes a minute before looking again. Nope, there’s still the strange quartet of orbs in the box of what should be stolen weapons (What, the government had enough, honestly) that gave his workers the heebie-jeebies. 

Which is not the vibe he gets from them. In fact, he’s actually kind of concerned with how much he has to beat the Pit back with how quickly it lurches to latch onto the… Well they’re not gems, and he’s a little wary about touching them at first, but the Pit does seem to settle when he does.

Alright, he can deal with this. It’s not like he has several heads in a duffel bag that needs to be delivered or a tiny assassin child back in his safehouse (Seriously Talia, why was he the preferred babysitter?) or an entire gang in Crime Alley to deal with. It’ll be fine. 

…

He would like to curse out his past self, because there’s now four babies in his safehouse that appeared to have fucking hatched from the orbs. Goddamnit.