#two person office

[katanra]

Home Office - Built-In Study room - large rustic built-in desk medium tone wood floor and brown floor study room idea with beige walls

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[gatodongem]

[personinthepalace]

Jenna Coleman and Ruby Stokes in The Jetty

from BBC Press Office on instagram

[ffcrazy15]

"Oh so when James Kirk refuses to believe in no-win scenarios it's 'changing the conditions of the test' and 'commendable original thinking,' but when I, Bradward Boimler, can't accept the possibility of failure and retake the Kobiyashi Maru sixteen times–"

[tenebrous-dream]

the npcs in 3ot are so dramatic . calm down andrew

[galaxyedging]

[jamietwat]

Roy: Alright, you win. You got what you wanted.

Ted: I’m a little lost. What exactly are we talking about?

Roy: I’m dating Jamie now.

Ted: That’s great! I’m happy for y’all. But I don’t remember sayi-

Roy: You told me to be mature and get along with him. I am.

Ted: [looks to Beard for help]

Beard: [pretends he’s absorbed in the book he’s reading even though he’s blatantly listening in so that he won’t have to be the one to respond to that]

Ted, clearly going for a joke: I’m glad. But you do realize I didn’t tell you you had to date him, right? It is possible to get along with someone without dating them.

Roy, dead serious: This is your fault. You did this to me.

Ted: I’m a little confused. When you say it’s my fault, are you saying that to blame me like it’s a bad thing or to thank me because you’re happy with him?

Roy: Yes.

Beard: [shoots Ted a confused look]

Ted: Which one?

Roy: Both.

[thelaurenshippen]

hoooo boy it's been a real floor lying time over here lately

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

"trio built like a sitcom" is just SUCH a good tag I love it

I MEAN LOOK AT THEM, ALL THEY NEED IS A LAUGH TRACK AND A COUCH

[corviiids]

wben i finally get more than 0.2 microns of energy and make one of the multiple video essays i desperately want to make so i can yap out loud as god (never) intended

[jmflowers]

Ive been such an asshole scrolling through my dash liking everything and reblogging nothing… but it was such a long day and I will thought vomit in tags tomorrow

[hulloitsdani]

Hey so guess who did some Kiran expression work a while back and entirely forgot to post it

Welp better late than never. I would not consider this my gospel expression guide for them, but it was an important experiment in further understanding their face.

The format is wholehearted ripped from kitsuneisi's cuteguy and hotguy expression sheets. I will not directly tag out of the fear of being perceived, but please check out all of their lovely work. It's downright gorgeous.

Also here is a pupiled Kiran. As a treat.

[sae-something]

my extra strong PRN is working and I had 2 glasses of wine so I started rambling and spiralling.

(i'm not fine but i'm safe and just gonna go sleep now. sorry about this.)

I feel so broken. It's just fighting SH urges all day. Last week on monday, we hit something really deep in therapy. I don't really grasp the full weight of it yet, but it felt really, really big. I was overwhelmed, I told A what a young (traumatized) part was saying inside, and A helped me by holding her (imagination). She made a little bowl out of her hands and told me she held this little girl in her safe and still and calm and warm hands, and that we could wrap her in my scarf, and that all 'little girls like that' need is to be held.

And then on thursday we had the evaluation (with HT) and it felt impossibly and unbearably painful to not have any space for all that pain, for all the little girls. I emailed A on wednesday to let her know that I felt the intense turmoil inside about 'seeing her (and HT) without having space for all the pain'.

A didn't read the email until friday. So on thursday I was sitting there with HT and A and it felt like pure and absolute abandonment. To have to sit there with the two people knowing me (and all my parts) closest, and to not have any space for how I felt like a walking wound, like a vulnerable bleeding open wound. Some angry/defensive parts got really, really triggered afterwards.

Eventually A replied to the email on friday and it was a good reply. It made me cry. And I have been counting down the actual hours until therapy again. And then this morning she emailed to cancel.

And also last night I had a dream. My sister finally came to me and in my dream I felt a wave of sadness and relief - until I noticed that my sister could not even look at me. She was just emptily staring at a spot next to me as she told me: dad is dying, you have to come to say goodbye. I went there, and my mother and sister just ignored me. It was like being invisible. They were making me wait until I could see my dad. By the time they finally came to get me, he had already died.

I woke up and went to pee. Didn't have many feelings (some confusion about whether it was real; a few tears - then back to sleep), but it's been haunting me all day. Both my parents had so many health scares over the last year. What if something happens? Will someone notify me? How will I feel? What will I do?

And then I couldn't see A today. When all I needed was her. I've been calming myself down by imagining seeing her again. And now she's gone. And this week, precisely this week, I am going to visit friends in Belgium thursday til saturday. And only two weeks ago A told me she could see me on thursday (online) this week. But that's not possible because I have to catch the train sometime in the morning.

And now all of it just feels like it's my fault. I wanted A too much, so she got sick. I had too many emotions, so she got sick. I decided to not see her twice this week, and she got sick. I wanted her too much, I wanted her too little, I felt too much, I shared too little. I should have flipped out on thursday, would that have mattered? All I want is to hurt myself. Pain pain pain pain pain. Please. I wish someone would just hurt me already.

Sorry I'm getting more and more triggered so I'll stop writing now and just go lay in bed. Only 2 days of work this week - tuesday and wednesday. And then days with friends. On sunday I'll watch both frozen movies with a close friend. And then hopefully A will be back??? Obviously britney, mara and whoever else is angry and distrustful is growling "we're NOT going back" but like. I will. I always go back. I've always been the one to crawl back, begging for another crumb of kindness, another drop of warmth.

I am drowning in longing. I just want A. I want to be a child and to have A as a mother. Even if I'd get born again with a whole new life and I'd get another mother who would hurt me, I'd want it to be A. (I know how fucked up that is to write.) (It's just how everything is messed up. Love comfort longing safety --- pain sexthings terror - what's the difference? What's the difference? Nothing, nothing, nothing. It's all the same. The only thing that's changed is that I am now close enough to other parts to prevent them from emailing A, begging her "will you please hurt me".

Which is good but also means it's not even getting out anymore. Everything is just stuck inside. I'm so alone. No one has ever loved me and no one ever will. Please hurt me. Please hold me.

[serenhob]

😭😭😭😭

Gonna sleep now but its taken me 3 HOURS to do this

Btw these are my progress photos in order (I'm sorry they are so ugly)

There's something off about him but I'm not fixing it now

[normally-paranormal]

A slightly less tragic ending

-----

It was Sunday, January twenty-first, that I started to come back a little. My left leg was in a cast up in its old familiar position again amid all the pulleys and weights. There was someone sitting next to me, and it took me a moment to realize it was Arnie.

He looked like hell made-over. His lip was busted, his left eye was partially hidden underneath a deep, purpling bruise, and his skin had broken out into reddened, uneven patches of acne, brought about by stress or too many cokes or reliable old teenage hormones. To my eyes, it was the best he'd ever looked. There was a moment, as bleary-eyed and light-headed as I was, that I thought I had to be dreaming. And then he turned to look at me.

Seeing me awake must've shocked him. Arnie all but leapt out of his seat, his eyes wide and his hands hovering as if he didn't quite know what to do with them. He finally seemed to settle on trying to knock some of his hair out of his face, a gesture so familiar that it made my chest ache as he struggled to find something to say. "Dennis," he finally managed, his voice hoarse, still not quite the old Arnie, but there was enough of something earnest in it that I didn't hear LeBay, either. "Hey, man. ..It's been crazy, huh?"

I laughed. I couldn't help it, even if it made everything in my body squeeze and ache and burn. Arnie looked at me like he didn't quite know what to make of that. "Crazy doesn't even begin to cover it. What happened to you?" I asked, squinting as I peered up at him. "You look like you're the one who got hit by a car."

There was a hesitation, and then a shy, nervous sort of smile came over his face. It lasted for only a second before he broke into a laugh, too- and, God, that alone made it all worth it. The doc could come and tell me that I'd never walk again, that my leg was going to be amputated at the hip this time tomorrow, that all I had ahead of me was another decade of painful physical therapy, and I wouldn't have done a thing different. It was a laugh that sounded like Arnie, the way I knew him. Call me sentimental, or a big fucking crybaby, or whatever brand of queer you want to, but I'd never heard a sound that was so much like waking up from a bad dream.

"I.. kinda did," Arnie answered. His smile fell away, but the life in his eyes was still there. That was all I could focus on. "It was.. LeBay. One minute, my mom and I were driving along, and the next, he was just... he was there. In the car with us."

"Wasn't inside you?" I said it, then grimaced. Arnie seemed to shrug off the awkward phrasing as well as anyone could.

"No." He let out a shaky breath, then shrugged. "Whatever you and Leigh did, Dennis, it was like he couldn't touch me anymore. Couldn't get in my head. He was trying to get ahold of the wheel, and he.. did. We had a head-on with a Chrysler."

"Jesus." I frowned at him, shifting against the pillows piled behind me. God, I was so tired of hospital beds I could puke. "How's Regina?"

"Recovering." He matched my frown. "I think."

There was a dip in his voice that made me worried. It'd been so long since I'd seen the real Arnie that I was suddenly terrified to realize that I couldn't quite tell the difference between a regular lowered pitch in his throat and LeBay's ugly growl pushing through. I couldn't read if Arnie had changed in some way or if it wasn't him at all. Arnie must've caught something in my face, because he shied away from me, and finally sat back down in the chair at my bedside. He reached up to swipe his hair out of his face again, the new, short haircut maybe not doing it for him. Arnie sighed. "I really screwed it all up, didn't I, Dennis? I mean, I.." His breath caught. "My mom thinks I've lost my fucking mind. She won't even look at me! Leigh- I- I don't even know what to say to her. And my dad.."

His voice cracked. I pushed out a soft breath. "Arnie.."

"That fucker!" He burst. Arnie's fists were clenched on top of his thighs, digging into the fabric of his jeans until his knuckles had gone white. "I don't know if he's gone, they didn't find shit at the wreck, but I swear to God, Dennis, I'm gonna pull him out of his fucking grave and make him fucking CHOKE! That son of a--"

"Arnie!" I barked, feeling like my heart was trying to seize in my chest. If LeBay wasn't gone--

I didn't get to finish the thought. Arnie choked, the tension bleeding from his body as he broke into a mortified sob, and forgive me, but that was just as much of a relief as his smile had been. He was angry. He had every right to be. But it was just that- just anger. Just something Arnie felt, deep and true, that belonged to him. I tried to breathe, and my voice was hoarse when I tried again. "Arnie, I- I'm so sorry, man. About your dad. I tried to.."

I'd tried to warn him. The sight of Michael Cunningham's body passed through my mind again and I had to repress a shudder. Scrubbing angrily at his good eye with one hand, Arnie shook his head. "It's not your fault. None of this is. I.." He dropped his hand, sighed again. When he looked at me, he looked scared. "..We're still friends, aren't we? After all of this?"

"Yeah, man. Yeah, of course we are." My mouth felt dry. And I'm not ashamed to admit it, I started crying then, too. I'd missed him like hell. Arnie nodded, looking relieved.

"Thank you, Dennis," he said, his voice quiet. He leaned over to give me a light punch in the shoulder. "You really saved my ass."

"Yeah, I'm a real Han Solo type," I told him. He smiled, faintly. I wondered when the hell I was going to get out of here so we could watch a game at home again. We hadn't talked about Leigh yet, but I was sure that was going to come, and even more so that it'd work itself out. I loved her, but she'd been Arnie's girl first, and Arnie and I had been claiming Libertyville as our own since long before she'd come around. Right then, I believed I'd be happy with just about any choice she made.

Arnie was alive. He was himself, if a little worse for wear. We also hadn't talked about Christine yet, but the last I'd seen of her, she'd been as good as gone. It struck me then that if LeBay had been with Arnie, if he'd caused that wreck, then he'd abandoned the Fury. He couldn't have been in both places at once. I didn't have it in me to feel any sympathy for her.

"Hey," I said after a quiet moment, smiling tiredly when Arnie met my gaze. I nodded down towards my leg. "Sign my cast for me?"