baby patron

listen to me, all the grown up batkids are dating people who either have experience with kids (little siblings, kids, etc) or common sense right. And Damian hates it. It’s like he’s being double patronized and babied. They all call him kiddo, try to set “playdates” with other kids (“Harper your kid is five, and clone, I already know Jon you complete imbecile”), they snitch on his siblings if they see him pulling Stunts™ etc.

And then there’s Kyle.

Dick, walking into the batcave: hey Kyle, thanks for helping train Dami while I wa-DAMIAN WHAT THE HELL DID WE SAY ABOUT SWORDS WHAT ARE YOU DOING-

Damian: Rayner is making himself useful and projecting some dinosaurs and ninjas to assist me with my sword training

Dick, turning to Kyle: KYLE IS DOING WHAT?

Kyle: DAMIAN TOLD ME YOU TWO DO THIS ALL THE TIME???? HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IT’S AGAINST THE RULES??

Dick: HOW WOULD WE DO THIS ALL THE TIME IF I DON’T HAVE A RING KYLE!!

Kyle: WELL WHY WOULDN’T YOU LET HIM TRAIN WITH SWORDS, HE ALREADY GOES OUT AS ROBIN EVERY NIGHT!! I SAW HIM TAKING DOWN TEN MEN LAST NIGHT!!!

Dick: THAT’S NOT THE POINT

Damian: to be fair with Rayner, Todd and I train with swords all the time,

Dick: JASON DOES WHAT

Bonnie’s Midnight Screechings: 3x04

Well, not as many screechings this week. Good news is, that means screechings go live sooner!  

In addition to the obvious WTFs (three seconds. three seconds tops is all we needed), the 1960s content was prettyyyy flat, thematically. Like wading through sludge. You’ll notice there’s scarcely a screech from the 60s to be found

However, never fear, gentle folk: I still felt a LOT of feelings In a nutshell: JOHN. HAL. JAMIE AND HIS LITTLE BOY.  (GUHHHHHH!!!!!))


3x04: Of Lost Things

  • Hai I’m bonnie and i always skip the previously on AND theme song WHOOPS

  • OMG IN THE TITLE CARD HE’S CARVING THE THING FOR WILLIE GAHHHHH

  • AND HOLY SHIT IT”S A NEW SAWNEY!!!!!!!
  • DHGKJJHGJKBLNHCGJVKBLJFHCGKLFXHCGJVKBLNJXGFHCJVBKN


SOMEONE FUCKING HOLD ME RIGHT THIS MINUTE

Originally posted by samisoffthewall

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anonymous asked:

Imagine tiny-tot amis Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Combeferre staging a mini-revolution in kindergarten because Grantaire needs more time to finish his little art projects and there just isn't enough free time to do so - according to Enjolras, Grantaire's art is extremely important as he desperately wishes to see a finished work of fingerpainting darn it! They all try to drag the rest of their little friends into the coup.

OH MY GOODNESS!!

Okay so Grantaire is really bad at time managing and he’s been testing technique for finger painting and stuff, with his feet, with his hands, etc etc so he’s a bit behind.

So les Amis barricade the door with cushions and form a dam so that Grantaire can finish his fingerpainting in peace. Enjolras is very passionate about this, he’ll shout and make a mess to distract the teachers if he must.

They even managed to enroll the tiny Patron-Minette into this (more like Diaper-Minette imiright) by promising them candy, and Patron-Minette babies bites and don’t play nice, so that’s always an asset.

In the end, Grantaire manages to finish his fingerpainting and gives Enjolras a kiss on the cheek and Enjolras has led his first of many rebellions against authority :’)

anonymous asked:

ok let's be real here literally pick any random number combo from the list and do it with Baby and i'll love it, ur baby driver imagines kill me and i want you to write so many more!!!!

Baby + Jealous + “Sorry. You’re just…really adorable”
A/N: ahh you’re so kind thank you I’m dead!!


Baby rarely got jealous, mostly because for a while he never really had anything to be jealous about. Then you came into his life and Baby truly cared about someone else, besides Joe. Yet he still kept his feeling in check, never worrying about your loyalty to him, well at least till tonight.

You had taken Baby to a bar, in the shittier side of town, but you weren’t wrong when you said they had the best french fries. And you were currently waiting for your drinks, slouched against the bar when some guy waltzed over. Baby hadn’t noticed at first, he was recording the music playing faintly in the background, and the dull chatter of patrons. Baby had gotten a song idea, something he knew you’d like and wanted to tell you about when he was met with the sight of you laughing. You were smiling at the man, and Baby’s jaw clenched as the stranger’s hand brushed over your bicep. You looked down at your feet, something you did when you were nervous, something you often did when Baby complimented you.

Baby shrunk further into the booth, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He watched with distaste, brooding before the sounds of everything started to echo in his ears, making him uneasy. Baby yanked his I Pod out of his pocket, pushing out of his seat, jerking the table forward as stomped outside. Your eyes snapped to his retreating figure and you gave some half ass excuse to the creepy guy, ignoring the way he tried to stop you as you followed Baby outside.

He was sitting by his car, elbows propped up onto his knees as his music played loudly. A small smile pulled at your lips as you sat beside him. “You okay?” You asked, huffing when Baby didn’t reply, making you pull one of his earbuds out. Baby was gnawing on his bottom lip and only casted a vague glance in your direction before putting his sunglasses on, despite the stars being out. You rolled your eyes before snatching them off Baby’s face, placing them on your head as you also rested a comforting hand on his knee. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just really wanna punch that guy.” Baby muttered while you gasped.

“Oh my god I can’t believe it.”

“What?”

“You’re jealous!” You cheered, a goofy smile plastered on your face as Baby muttered under his breath.  

“I’m not.”

“Okay sure.” You nudged him with your shoulder, looking at him with an unreadable expression, and not dropping that big smile. Baby pouted as the guy stumbled out of the bar and you couldn’t help, but snort at his state. You didn’t think you’ve ever seem him jealous, and you won’t lie, it is entertaining.

“Can you stop staring, I already told I’m not jealous.” He turned to face you, confused by your giggles and giddiness.

Sorry. You’re just…really adorable.” You beamed, while Baby stole his glasses back, frown ever evident on his face.

“You’re the worst,” He mumbled, pushing off the ground and opening your car door. You were still laughing and pressed a kiss to Baby’s cheek with a loud smack, catching his brooding façade falter and that same boyish grin wash over his face. “But you’re mine.” He sighed, climbing into the car as you followed in suit. You gave him another chaste kiss, matching his tone as you sighed, “You’re right about that Baby.”

Okay okay okay but… Claquesous who was Amis level Good. In school, studying, probably wooing Combeferre with an enchanting voice and skin darker than his.

And then…He’s walking home one night and it’s late and cold and he’s trying to warm himself up and he practically reeks of money and wealth and he gets attacked.

And when he can’t follow through on more than a Calvin Klein jacket and gold rolex, the attackers decide to take something else because all he could think to say was “I’m sorry it’s just cold and I’m trying to get home”

So these awful attackers dose him in gasoline and light him on fire and leave him because he got a good look at their faces so why not just get rid of him?

And somehow, Sous manages to extinguish himself in the snow or something and he’s laying there sobbing and he knows, he /knows/, he’s not going to be able to see again. For God’s sake, he’s been screwing a med student for a year. He knows he’s fucked. He can tell you what’s first and second and third degree burns on his face right now.

And Montparnasse just melts out of the shadows because he knew to follow that gang, knew they went after the same people he would. They’d do the dirty work, leave their prints and faces and then he could just rob them.

Except this time they set a man on fire. He almost passed out when he saw it. He would have helped if he hadn’t almost broken his arm stealing this jacket.

So when the man saves himself, Parnasse is there. He helps him sit back, helps him clean his face and yeah the dude is definitely fucked. His eyes are wild and not focusing, even when Parnasse shines his flashlight in his eyes.

So he takes him home against better judgement and calls for help. He let’s the man recover though the man who finally stops crying like a bitch is not that same man who’d been walking home. No this man is much more dangerous and definitely hotter.

Parnasse is the one to give the names of the men and where they frequented. He’s the one to suggest a mask so he won’t get caught and equally looked badass. He’s the one who helps Claquesous walk to the other side of town, open the door, and point him in the direction of the men.

He’s the one who watches a would be law student tear apart an older man limb by limb without shedding a tear. He’s the one who sees the blood and jumps Claquesous as soon as they’re back at his.

So he’s also the one who trains Sous to fight blind. Trains him to use his other senses. Trains him to never be vulnerable again because you can’t on this side of town. “They’ll eat you alive and leave your bones, Sous.”

And he doesn’t even care that Sous leaves bruises during training because he knows he’ll get better ones later that night. And Montparnasse is the prettiest thing Sous has ever touched. He doesn’t need to see to know that his savior looks like an angel.

And that’s how Claquesous, a man who can only see darkness, literally becomes darkness.

2

omg yes please SHUT HIM DOWNNN

Story time (sorry it’s long but I’m angry about this still): yesterday my friend and I were making brownies and we didn’t set a timer and neither of us were paying attention to it at all and so someone asked me to go look at them to see if they were done and when I checked them they were clearly done but my friend’s pompous patronizing male jackass cousin literally hovered over me (this face basically touching my shoulder) telling me to CHECK IT WITH A TOOTHPICK A TOOTHPICK WILL LET YOU KNOW IF IT”S DONE JUST PUT A TOOTHPICK IN IT IF A TOOTHPICK COMES OUT CLEAN IT IS DONE JUST GO AHEAD AND USE A TOOTHPICK DID YOU KNOW THAT THE BEST WAY TO CHECK BROWNIES IS WITH A TOOTHPICK MOST WOMEN DON’T KNOW THIS BECAUSE THEY JUST DON’T PAY ATTENTION TO THE DETAILS A:LKDJFG:LSKDJF:SLDKFJ:SLDKJF. So naturally I didn’t use a toothpick and the brownies (which btw were covered in caramel and full of chocolate chips so checking them with a toothpick wouldn’t have worked bc it could have been burnt and still not come out of the brownies clean) tasted just fine.SO SUCK ON THAT AND CHOKE ON A TOOTHPICK

Tokiya’s Punishment

or as it’s known in my google drive, “FUCK YOU TOKIYA THIS IS WHAT YOU DESERVE”

Summary: After Tokiya threatens to quit STARISH and join Raging Agency instead, the boys are hurt and want to punish Tokiya for his actions. Fortunately, Ren knows a little secret about Tokiya that will be of incredible use to them. Tokiya has no idea what’s coming to him.

Word Count: 2,442 (jeesus)

A/N: prompt given to me by an anon, fic itself somewhat inspired by otomiya-tickles’ fic “Jumin’s Punishment,” 10/10 read please check it out

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anonymous asked:

Hello! My story is in a historic setting, beginning of 18th century. One of my characters has PTSD due to fighting in war over several years. People have no word for PTSD, although they know that soldiers will often come back with a similar set of symptoms. There is obviously no medication or therapist available. What could friends do that would actually help the character? Anything they might try to do to help but that would rather do more harm?

People may not have had words for PTSD back then, but the disorder itself has been described as far back as 440 BCE, by Herodotus.  

Epizelus, the son of Cuphagoras, an Athenian, was in the thick of the fray and behaving himself as a brave man should, when suddenly he was stricken with blindness, without blow of sword or dart; and this blindness continued thenceforth during the whole of his afterlife. The following is the account which he himself, as I have heard, gave of the matter: he said that a gigantic warrior, with a huge beard, which shaded all his shield, stood over against him; but the ghostly semblance passed him by, and slew the man at his side. Such, as I understand, was the tale which Epizelus told.

Lucretius wrote in 50 BCE:

The minds of mortals… often in sleep will do and dare the same… Kings take the towns by storm, succumb to capture, battle on the field, raise a wild cry as if their throats were cut even then and there. And many wrestle on and groan with pains, and fill all regions round with mighty cries and wild, as if then gnawed by fangs of panther or of lion fierce.

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3181586/

WHICH IS JUST TOO GODDAMN COOL, Y’ALL.  Sorry, had to share that. :)

The problem with the rest of your question, however, is that people with PTSD are not a monolith.  There’s no exact right way to help someone.

I’ve listed two general things characters could do, and beneath each one listed a way it could backfire or be done poorly.  It’s up to you to decide how your character would react.

  • Be supportive, and open to listening to the character’s problems
    • Force the character to talk even if they’re not ready to

  • Help identify triggers, and shield the character from encountering them
    • Excessively protecting the character from everything that could be conceived as triggering them.  Patronizing or ‘babying’ the character.

Followers with PTSD, in your experience, what have friends said or done that helped? What made things worse?


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