#PAT I'M DYING

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Leonardo: Dinosaurs aren't extinct. I mean, le Comte is walking in this room.

MC: *wheeze*

[alectoperdita]

itching to post cockwarming fic 😩

[cold-neon-ocean]

Me describing Baatar as "horse coded" on a discord stream and folks going "Um, please explain that?" because I genuinely forget sometimes people can't hear every thought I have about him and have no context for what I just said.

To explain: Big, awkward, anxious, needy, capable of irreparable damage without really knowing or meaning to. Surprisingly fragile for their size like if they trip and fall over there is genuine chance they could just die. If their tummy hurts a little bit they could die. They will bite your fingers off if you do not feed them properly. They look like dinosaurs when you shave their hair. Horses - Afraid of things they shouldn't be: plastic bags, small puddles on the ground, stationery flower pots

Baatar - Afraid of things he shouldn't be: things that were on sale, low thread count bed sheets, Great Value brand items.

[lordgrimwing]

Glorfindel the Child Lord

[for Glorfindel Week, hosted by @glorfindelweek, Day 2, a companion piece to Glorfindel the Child Balrog Slayer]

“My King?” Glorfindel said. “You sent a message?”

Turgon’s office was small and intimate. The council room and other official and ceremonial rooms in the spiraling tower were large and opulent as only the Noldor could be, but he liked his private room small and tastefully decorated with a handful of meaningful items. There was something about conversing in these rooms as opposed to anywhere else that made Glorfindel feel completely seen and understood, even if he was not always called here for the most pleasant of discussions. 

Turgon looked up from his armchair by the window. He held a book in one hand and an elegant glass of some russet drink in the other. The gold woven into his hair flashed in the setting sun as he raised his head. “I see the message found you. I wondered how long it would take.”

“Yes,” Glorfindel agreed, conscious of the flecks of dirt on his clothes that threatened to fall onto the pristine rug. Maybe he should have taken the time to change first. “The courier should be commended: she let no great feat daunt her.”

Turgon smiled and gestured at the seat across from him as he set the leather-bound book on a side table. “Nor mountain cliffs, I suspect. Calatail more than earns her name. Please, sit.”

“I dare not, for my tunic is soiled. I am quite happy to speak on my feet.” He pointed at one of the various muddy marks to illustrate the risk he posed to furniture. He really should have changed, and maybe washed his hair, too. He doubted Turgon had expected him, the lord of one of his houses, to arrive several hours late and covered in dirt and detritus. He wasn’t doing a very good job at this lord business, was he?

“Laurefindelë, a little dirt will not harm the upholstery. Sit.” Turgon said it with a serious but teasing tone, mixing Sindarin with Quenya. 

Glorfindel did so, settling himself on the edge of the seat and touching as little of the cushion as possible. Turgon definitely noticed but refrained from commenting further, which was a relief. He did not want to disobey his king, but also, he really should have made himself presentable. He wasn’t a child anymore.

“Now, Glorfindel,” Turgon said, relaxing back into his seat and into casual Quenya, using the Sindarin version of his guest’s name, which he knew the young lord preferred. “From all appearances, I will assume Calatail had to retrieve you from your House’s fields in the northern glen-”

Glorfindel kept his mouth shut. That was not true at all and he was fairly certain Turgon knew he hadn’t been anywhere near where he should have been. It wasn’t that he was trying to shirk his new duties, and he understood the weight of responsibility the title of Lord gave him—he grew up watching his parents bear that responsibility. Sometimes he just wanted to run off and leave it all behind. He couldn’t though, so he’d compromise by climbing as high up the precipice surrounding the secret city as he could. He knew he shouldn’t do it but he did.

“-and that our meeting slipped your mind while you were thus occupied.” Turgon’s voice was calm, his face untroubled, but he was without doubt giving gentle chastisement. 

It would have been better, Glorfindel thought, if the king had reprimanded him with sharp words, or demanded an explanation for the tardiness. He would have if any of the other lords kept him waiting for so long. He had much to do and little time to wait for dawdlers. 

Glorfindel cast his eyes down and clasped his dirty hands in his lap, attempting to look duly chastened, even if he didn't feel it. He knew he should do better, could treat his title with all the gravity it deserved (he'd seen his parents bear it with all the honor they could, even during the hardest parts of the March) but he knew he’d do this again, and he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry about it. He would try to not miss another meeting, at least.   

“We’ll put that behind us,” Turgon said kindly. “I wanted to discuss your House’s contribution to the Festival of Trees.”

Glorfindel straightened in his seat. This was about his House; he needed to represent his people well. This was one thing he couldn’t fall short of. “Preparations are well underway. We have dual responsibilities with guarding the fourth gate, so I’ve broached the possibility of collaboration with the House of the Fountain for the tournaments.”

“Very good,” Turgon said with a nod. “As usual, Idril is organizing special events for the children.”

This was clearly the reason he wanted to meet with Glorfindel.

“In years passed, you’ve assisted her with that.”

“Yes,” Glorfindel agreed. Idril recruited him to shepherd the younger children—mostly products of the Long Peace before the construction of Gondolin��from activity to activity. He liked it. The formal festivities were nice, especially once he was old enough to appreciate the more solemn bits, but he always looked forward to gathering up the children to meet Idril.

Turgon smiled again but his lips were thin, like he was about to say something and did not fully like the taste of the words. “I’ve asked that she find someone else to help her this year and going forward. With your new responsibilities, I thought it best to relieve you of that burden so that you can focus on your House.”

Glofindel did not slump in the seat. He did not let his shoulders drop with disappointment because he was not disappointed. He really wasn’t. He knew this would come eventually; he wasn’t a child anymore, and he could name at least three elflings who’d happily take up the honor of working with Idril. Still, a pang of loss shot through his chest at the finality heralded by the king’s words.

He’d given up his childhood when Turgon placed the lordship on his shoulders.

(his memories of the ceremony tasted like smoke from the Nirnaeth Arnoediad and salt from the tears on his face, his parents’ absence a bleeding wound inside his chest)

“My deepest thanks,” he said past the lump in his throat. “I might have forgotten about the conflict until the celebration was upon us. I will write a letter for Idril to thank her for allowing me to work with her for so long, and suggesting new candidates to fill the role.”

“I’m sure she’ll track you down herself in the coming months.” Turgon’s expression was once again relaxed, the challenging part of the conversation over. 

She would, wouldn’t she? He wondered how long he could avoid it without being rude. Idril was nothing if not determined (that was one of the things he admired about her when he was young).

There was another pause, but this time Glorfindel had nothing to contribute to the silence other than his own. 

Turgon’s tone changed again when he opened his mouth, going from the king he had become in Beleriand to the family friend Glorfindel vaguely recalled from Valinor. “Lordship is a great weight I have asked you to shoulder. How are you doing, Laurë?”

“I am learning a great many things.” Glorfindel didn’t know how much more he could bring himself to say. “And as you’ve seen, schedule management is still a trial. My King,” he stood, “if our business is finished, might I beg leave to depart? I’ve just remembered I have a House meeting to preside over that starts in half an hour. I promised my steward I wouldn’t be late this time.”

Turgon looked taken aback at the sudden change in the conversation. He looked up at the young lord from his seat. “That was everything pressing. Please, go if you need.”

Relief filled the parts of Glorfindel’s body not already flooded with painful memories. He spun on his heel, no longer caring if his clothes shed debris on the rugs, and hurried from the office. He barely caught the king’s promise that they’d talk again soon. 

He left the palace tower as quickly as he could, nearly tripping on the stairs in his haste to be out and away so he could find a quiet spot to recompose himself. The House meeting wasn’t as imminent as he’d said, but he didn’t have enough time to hide the evidence of tears from his steward if he started crying now. 

(she’d been his parents' steward since Valinor, and she’d watched him grow up)

(he feared he was disappointing her with his struggles to fill his father’s shadow as Lord of the House of the Golden Flower)

He tucked himself away in the unused space behind a bakery. Sitting very still, he focused on the tantalizing smells coming from the open windows rather than the memories of the day the battered, fractured army came back from the Nirn.

[yeahlikethebird]

.

[tennis-kittens]

Doubles trouble collection • Dominic Thiem & Sascha Zverev vs. Matteo Berrettini & Andrey Rublev • Diriyah Tennis Cup 2022

[draculiza]

I'm so nervous for tomorrow

[jaratedeguadalupe]

Patton and remus are REALLY good with kids I can imagine them starting a babysitting gig together 

[handkinkbis]

As a fan of proper communication as a plot device here's what I would do as Shin Yu.

If he's being blackmailed into this relationship with Nayeon then tell Hong Jo exactly that. You don't need to share all the specifics, but especially IF the stalker has something to do with whatever blackmail, Hong Jo has a right to know about it at this point because it's putting her at risk too. Shin Yu might know more than he lets on.

It doesn't seem like Shin Yu and Nayeon spend any? significant? time together and there's no love between them so it's a contractual relation at best (clearly they're not sleeping together since Nayeon spends nights with her lover) and Shin Yu's been very publically chasing after Hong Jo anyway (at work, outside of work) so Hong Jo and Shin Yu really dating* won't influence how the fake relationship between Shin Yu and Nayeon is seen. Maybe he could be less obvious about it, but that too is on him. (Unless the brain condition is making him impulsive? Nothing is certain with this show lol.)

Keeping Hong Jo in the dark about it just seems like a tragedy in waiting because Shin Yu's chasing is getting her hopes up that Shin Yu will split with Nayeon eventually. If he's not going to, he needs to make that clear!

Use Your Words characternims! I still don't get why it hasn't been revealed why Shin Yu and Nayeon are marrying and why it's such a tightly kept secret, it just seems like a weird writing choice to use miscommunication and misunderstanding like this to drive the plot. Even if the reveal would clarify whether the magic in this universe is real, well... Dragging that reveal out also seems strange.

And unless Shin Yu's prevented magically from sharing with Hong Jo why he's entering into a loveless marriage with Nayeon, the withholding of something so key makes no sense.

I probably need to rewatch the show because everything seems unnecessarily confusing and I've probably missed so many details.

Another theory of mine is that Shin Yu's health condition has something to do with the messy plot/story telling since he's an unreliable narrator, but so much of the show is from Hong Jo's POV that it seems quite... unlikely? If he'd dreamt parts of the story then you'd expect him to be more of a central character in his own dreams so that's probably not it.

[5mcsinatrenchcoat]

dead set on romancing Karlach this playthrough and ALREADY slowly going insane from the sheer yearning

yeah sure I can't touch you but does that stop me from torturing us both by describing how I would touch you if I could? no it doesn't

[jjsanguine]

I've never read Jane Austen's novels so when people were drawing comparisons between Mr Darcy and Jeng I was like ? but Jeng smiling up at Pat walking down the stairs into Jeng's ridiculously high ceiling-ed living room seems to be fitting what I understand of the Austen vibe

[masked-and-doomed]

How to make art with mind and nothing else tutorial

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC prompt: Danny is Chronos' first child.

Well, not his first child biologically, to be completely honest.

It just so happened that the Phantom very often helped/helps/will help Clockwork at different times and his presence next to the titan required an explanation.

And the opportunity to call Zeus a little brother is worth a lot, right? So when the Ancient came up with this idea Phantom did not resist just to have such a pleasant bonus from their cooperation.

However, in the time of the gods and heroes, such a solution was not a problem. But in modern times, when Phantom tries to attract as little attention as possible in order to graduate from university, such relatives are more likely to cause a lot of problems.

~~~~~

Wonder Woman: Uncle Danny?

Superman, who wanted to chase away a teenager serenely strolling through still smoking battlefield, turns to Wonder Woman, who is waving affably at excactly this guy.

Well, Fenton honestly happened to be in Fawcett City by accident, and it just so happened that by chance it was on this sunny and cloudless day that the villains decided to cause riots worthy of the attention of the founders of the Justice League.

Danny: Diana! My dear, it seems like we really haven't seen each other not for a long time! In what century was it? Ah, I honestly, I barely remember it... The speed at which children grow up defies the laws of time. I mean, look at you! Your mother must be so proud. How's Dad? Still not paying child support, arrogant bastard?

Wonder Woman: Oh, uncle, please. I'm all grown up now, don't worry about me.

Danny: Hm, well, let's get back to this question later. I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends. Anyway, would you like to introduce them, little princess?

Wonder Woman: Of course, meet Kal El, Batman, and Shazam. The rest of the guys have already returned to our base. Would you like to...

Danny: Ooh, you're talking about, um... What do you young people call it? The Justice League, right? During my youth, the heroes rarely united and mostly performed all the feats alone. It's good that you help each other, kids.

Danny flies up a little to pat Superman and Batman on the head.

Under the Diana's gaze full of hope that they will get along with her uncle, the men do not move.

In the background:

Red Hood and Robin who used to hang out with Danny near the Lazarus pits: *sounds of seagulls dying of laughter*

~~~~~

Flash: So you're Diana's uncle?

Danny: Yes, call me Danny.

Flash: Cool, cool...

Danny: What does the temperature have to do with it? Do you need ice? Let me make some for you.

Flash: No, it's like,um, I didn't know that Zeus has a younger brother with that name. So, it's good to know?

Danny: Hmm, thanks. Many people tell me that I look quite young, hah. But actually I'm his older brother, so...

Flash: Older? Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect.

Danny: No, it's all right. It's "cool". I rarely appear on the pages of your human myths and legends, I know it. After all this business about Chronos devours his own children, my father punished me for a long time. So, yeah...It's a funny story.

Flash: Punished for what? How?

Danny: Uh, sitting in a room at a time when there is no Internet or electricity is not fun at all. You see, I just didn't want a younger brother or sister because I was afraid that my parents would pay less attention to me. So, I made up this stupid prophecy and persuaded Gaea to tell it in order to remain the only child in the family. My father would never have thought that I would decide to kill him, that's why...Phah, it's just a bad family story. In 10 thousand years, we'll all laugh about it.

Flash: Yeah, that's... funny.

~~~~

Danny *is woken up by an emergency call from the League at three in the morning, although he fell asleep at two o'clock* (he gave his contact so as not to upset his niece): I knew this would happen! I knew it!

~~~~

Billy Batson *stands in his human form in front of the Justice League and doesn't know what to say*,*sweating nervous*.

Danny *enters the hall*: What's up, mortals, Diana and...Batman? My father said that there is something that I have to be here for. Oh! Well, at least someone in this family is also a shapeshifter. Have you decided to make a younger form so that your uncle doesn't feel lonely? What a good boy! Usually everyone is so afraid to seem like children, once they turn a couple of centuries old. Ah, youth~

Billy: Yeah, I decided to..experiment? and it seems I got stuck by accident.

Danny: It's okay, Uncle Danny will help you. Come on, let's go...

~~~~

Danny *teleports them to the Fawcett City*.

Billy: ....

Danny:

Billy: Hey, I'm still stuck!

A new portal opens and a man in a purple cape hands Billy a note. "Go to Constantine. P.S., my son always completes all assignments only by half, sorry." written on it.

Billy: Oh... OoOhHh!!!

~~~~

Meanwhile, Constantine, who is forced to do additional work: Son of a bi... beloved and respected Master of Time.

Danny: Yeap, that's me.

Constantine: Damn it. Couldn't you just let Batman adopt him like in other timelines?

Danny: And where's the fun in that?

[sunyandmony]

FU---- BLOWS THEM UP💥💥💥

Human version of the bois 🥰

[peachesofteal]

Hello! Been enjoying your Through Me series, thanks for sharing it. Curious how Simon reacts to Mama having morning sickness and/or when the baby bump starts showing.

Hope you have a wonderful day!

Through Me (The Flood) - Simon Riley/female reader

"I'm pregnant, not dying."

Simon's lips twist, trying to swallow a smile as he plucks Orion from your arms. "I know, mama. Still, he's huge. You don't need to be picking him up if you can't help it." You throw your hands in the air and your shirt rises, highlighting where your belly has started to change. He can't help but stare at it, warming with pride, with obsession, lust. You turn him into a madman. The bump has pushed him farther into the irrational, possessive, caveman part of his mind, more than he ever thought possible. You're his, all his, carrying his baby again, and it does wild things to him.

"What am I going to do when you're not here?" He frowns, and you place your palm on his hip, patting reassuringly.

"Simon, I love you, but you're going to have to let go a little bit."

"I'm going to let go plenty when I leave for work." He huffs, reaching out to spread his hand across your belly. The swell is hardly pronounced, but still there, and it does a weird thing to his heart every time he touches it. You, and the baby. It clangs around in his chest like a wild drum.

He's sick at the idea of leaving you, and you read it on him. "We're going to be okay, Si. I promise." You can't promise that, just he can't promise anything either, but he'll hold tight to the hope.

"I know." Still, he doesn't let go. He leaves his hand sitting there, thumb rubbing circles into your belly, watching your eyes. You're tired. You've been sick, more sick than you were with Orion, and it's wearing you down, whittling your energy away. "You should rest." You glance at Orion reluctantly, and he kisses your temple. "I've got the rest of the night. Go lay down."

Simon snaps the last button closed on Orion's pajamas as he starts peeking around the room.

"Mamamamama-" Ry babbles, looking left and right for you. He always wants you before bed, wants to at least see you if you're not the one putting him down. Simon doesn't blame him. They're kindred spirits in that way.

"Alright little man, let's go say goodnight to mama." You're asleep on your side, a pillow wrapped up in your arms, and he carefully settles onto the bed, tilting forward so Orion can give you a kiss.

"Mama mama." He calls, and your lashes flutter, barely rousing to say goodnight with sleepy sweet smile.

"Hi baby." You reach, bringing him close. "Daddy tucking you in?"

"Had to say goodnight." He soothes a hand over your hip and down to your belly, gravitating towards it like always now. You're in no better shape than you were earlier, and worry twists in his gut. You've promised its normal, but it doesn't sit right with him.

"Okay, love you." You kiss Orion's cheek, holding the back of his head before letting go, looking up at Simon. "Coming to bed after?"

"Gonna clean up the kitchen and then I'll be in. Go back to sleep." He tries not to focus on the anxiety, trying to stay in these moments, these short moments that he'll need to hold onto for as long as possible.

At the door, he turns, watching you slip back under the waves of sleep. His baby in his arms, another one growing inside you, the entirety of the stars shining in the sky around their moon. You.

He makes it to bed an hour later. You're out like a light, sleeping like the dead, snoring, rolled onto your back now, arms and legs out like a starfish, and he tucks himself around you, shifting carefully to avoid waking you while still getting as close as he possibly can. He finds the bump again, flexing his fingers into soft flesh, breath fanning across your collarbone.

"She says you can hear us, you know. Not clearly I guess, but enough to know our voices. That's why she's always talkin' to ya. So you know who she is." He takes a deep breath. "She wants another boy but I think you're gonna be a girl. Have a feeling." You twitch with a small noise, and he kisses your neck to settle you. "Have to even out the odds around here, and you'll have a big brother to look out for you. Protect you, when you need it." He pushes Tommy from his mind as soon as he appears, burying the ghosts back to where they belong. Wounds heal, but scars can still hurt.

"You talking to him?" You murmur, and he holds you tighter.

"Her, yes. I'm talking to her."

"Mhmm." Your burrow your face in his neck and sigh. "Love you."

"Love you too mama."

[pseudowho]

"Hey! Nanamin, Mrs.Nanamin?"

You and Kento looked up at Yuuji from your places on the sofa; you, with your cross-stitch and your tongue between your teeth, and Kento looking over his newspaper and reading glasses. Yuuji dried his hands, having washed the final dish.

He grinned, ruffling stray bubbles into the back of his hair, and tapped away on his phone. Kento's phone buzzed, and he picked it up, looking at the screen.

"It's my birthday next week--"

"--dont worry, Yuuji, we know--"

"--and I'm just gonna have a little party in the Jujutsu High forest. Gojo says it's okay, thought you two could come along. I've qjust sent you the deets."

As Yuuji walked off to his room, you looked up at Kento, who read the invitation in increasing confusion, a dismayed little hum rumbling out of his throat.

"What? What is it?" You asked around the needle pinched between your teeth, leaning closer to peer at Kento's phone.

"The party..." Kento hummed.

"...the party...?"

"Apparently it's going to be 'dank'."

"Oh...sounds unsanitary."

Kento hummed again. "Quite. Though perhaps if we bring our best 'rizz', Yuuji thinks the party will be 'bussin'. Even better, if our outfits 'slay', he'll be 'highkey' excited."

You frowned, then scoffed, calling down the hallway.

"Hey, Yuuji? This invitation..."

"Yeah?" He shouted back, "What about it?"

"Have you had a stroke?"

Yuuji laughed, unabashed, and walked out in his pyjamas, grinning. "Nah, for real for real, it'll be great. No cap."

You and Kento looked at Yuuji like he'd grown an extra head. Yuuji laughed again, and got a glass of water before bidding them goodnight, scoffing as he went into his room;

"Millennials."

You and Kento sat in stunned silence in the lamplight. Kento looked at your cross-stitch and fluffy socks. He felt his reading glasses on his head, his newspaper forgotten in his lap, and you seemed to be thinking the same, before asking him in quiet horror:

"Kento...are--are we old?"

Another dismayed hum, from beside you.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The 20th of March arrived; a balmy spring evening. The sun was setting as you and Kento approached the forest at Jujutsu High, seeing the flicker of flames in a great firepit, hearing music and laughter, and clinking glass.

Panda tossed bottles of drink across the floating crowd; Maki and Megumi caught theirs seamlessly, and Nobara fumbled hers to the tune of laughter, her eye patch replacing her depth perception.

The birthday boy bustled around, accepting claps on the back, gifts and well-wishes, his hair turned coral in the dying sun. He looked up as you and Kento approached, looking happier still.

Yuuji softened at Kento's smile, accepting a gift with the promise of 'more at home'. Kento patted Yuuji on the shoulder, looking him up and down.

"Looking good, Yuuji. On fleek."

Yuuji faltered, unsure. "Oh, on...?"

Kento turned to you, only marginally irritated when Gojo joined your group. As the conversation grew between you, Kento and Gojo, Yuuji looked more and more sidelined, eventually fumbling for his phone, his trusty translator.

"Went to talk to the higher-ups today--

"Ugh! Adulting."

"-- legit. Looked over their new hashtag 'Student Protection Policies', and they were so fucking basic--"

You and Kento scoffed as Gojo continued, and Yuuji listened on, flicking through the glossary of his mind.

"--so yeah anyway, cheeky humblebrag, but when they told me I couldn't argue, I told them that they'd die of old age before they got a good policy out. Solid clapback, I feel."

You and Kento scoffed, sipping your drinks, answering; "Savage"-- "Woke up ready to throw shade, huh."

The party went on, and Yuuji found himself overhearing more and more of Kento's conversations. Yuuji had a growing list of words on his phone, and increasingly looked at Kento as if he'd been replaced by another man.

Yuuji looked down at his phone, scrolling through the list; he had no answers. He still had no idea what time 'Leet o'clock' was, he'd been called 'dude' at least seven times, and he had lost a game that he hadn't even known he was participating in.

Kento turned back to Yuuji, smiling again at his disgruntled expression, thanking him; "Party's lit, Yuuji. Having fun?"

As Yuuji opened his mouth to argue, you approached, grinning at Yuuji and looping your arm through Kento's; "You alright kiddo? Looking a bit shook."

"I-- what? I don't--"

Kento leaned in to you, talking lowly in your ear; "Just been schooling this boy on the appropriate vernacular. I like to think I'm winning."

You laughed, delighted. "Weird flex but okay."

You melded back into the party ("Oh my god! Megumi's puppers! C'mere boy, who's a good doggo..."), and Yuuji fizzled at Kento, pugnacious.

"You're fucking with me, aren't you?"

Kento looked at Yuuji with absolute innocence. Yuuji puffed his cheeks out, putting his phone away and stabbing a finger at Kento.

"I'll get you back for this. Just 'cos you two are old."

Kento scoffed again, the barest smirk on his lips. "We're not old. You're just a baby."

"Yeah, yeah, Nanamin. Tell me that again when you stop taking two ibuprofen in the morning 'just in case'."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

A cheeky Millennials and Gen Z love letter, written absolutely tongue-in-cheek