#chaos chew toy

[lucksea]

well this one took me six hours

[lucksea]

they took everything from him

You can always tell the bad Ultras by their extremely pointy shoes!

[quietly-sleeping]

Everytime I write shen yuan and shen jiu together I imagine a vengeance fueled cat being given a chew toy

[i-am-a-fan]

Tell me Harbinger. When you laid in bed at night, wanting to be like your mentor, did you forget how badly he suffered? Be honest Harbinger. Your cracks are showing like spider webs.

[cup-of-shark]

bunch of pen sketches i made last night

Head Engineer Mack they could never make me hate you. also i need to watch you go insane forever and ever. <3

[sainteclectic]

Local wild animal regresser here ^_^ how are we feeling about wild petre Heart?? Very general and non-specific bc I have nothing in particular in mind sorrg ... :(

ohhh yes yes I love that idea... I think he'd be a bird or some kind of burrowing animal. he definitely has his own little nest, and I think he'd also like collecting things like a magpie of some sort... heart is a hoarder to me. he hates the idea of his things getting lost {a fear fueled by his blindness}, so he keeps them as close as possible where he knows where it all is without needing sight to find them.

he's territorial, but he'll let the others sleep in his nest sometimes... but he also loves to bite, so watch out! it's a good way to get his aggression and general frustrations out in a controlled environment, so they don't build up and cause... gestures vaguely. The Issues

[debtsunpaid]

BE NOT AFRAID @whcwashe!

" he'd be proud of you, you know. "

the body that had once been john's, now supplanted, leans up against the top floor railing with his hands clasped loosely over open air and the shadow of wings cast against the wall behind him, head haloed in the light of the chandelier. he smiles down at her with eyes that crease at the corners and it's kindly — at a distance.

" if only he knew how to show it, right? " who he is, jasper or john or even chandler, doesn't matter: she'll tell him which is more important, eventually. he flicks his hands up at the wrist, mild gestures of precautionary surrender. " i'm sorry — i'm talking like i know you, and we haven't even met yet, officially. you're liv, right? jasper's daughter. "

no mistakes, this time. no letting john's assortment of egotistical and increasingly banal complexes stir the silt and obscure the way forward, and no more clumsy attempts to drive her away from the center of the gravity well. manny hadn't lied, the night she left: liv's power is valuable.

that it happens to be valuable in more ways than she knows is . . . incidental. trivia.

[wellthatschaotic]

is it wrong that i still want qfoolish to try the happy pills. i wanna see what happens so bad

[amischiefofmuses]

[Tag Drop - last one]

[alygator77]

──on the move

a/n. in honor of father's day, i wrote a short drabble for our favorite daddy fictional husband. here's some good 'ol dadjo fluff 🩵 this was a request, but it's also inspired by a scene from the romcom life as we know it.

cw. your daughter's first steps. humor. domestic fluff. dad! satoru. husband! satoru. also, satoru is just too stinkin' cute (isn't he always though?!).

Neither you nor Satoru were prepared for the day your daughter decided to walk.

She’d been going through another sleep regression—clingy, overtired, and endlessly fussy. The last few nights had been brutal for you both; nonstop crying, sleepless nights—hell, you barely remembered the last time you’d eaten something warm or sat down for more than five minutes without a tiny hand tugging at your shirt.

So today, when she finally settles, babbling to herself instead of wailing, Satoru doesn’t hesitate.

“You go clean up,” he says, already hoisting her up into his arms. “I got this.”

And you don’t argue. Because a hot shower and ten minutes to breathe feels like the most luxurious gift in the world.

Downstairs, Satoru sits leisurely, sinking onto the living room floor, one of your daughter’s stuffed toys shoved behind his back like a makeshift pillow. She sits a few feet in front of him, chewing thoughtfully on a rubber block like she’s solving some ancient puzzle.

As she babbles cheerfully, he nods along, blue eyes soft beneath the fall of snowy hair. One hand props up his chin as he listens intently, like he’s getting a full debriefing from a tiny general.

“I know, right?” he murmurs. “They really said no dessert before dinner. Criminal, honestly.”

An insistent string of nonsense syllables spills from her tiny lips, animated and loud, flapping one hand as to make a point.

“Exactly,” he hums, nodding solemnly. “It’s injustice. You and me—we should unionize.”

Then, without warning, she shifts—pushing herself up with both hands, wobbling slightly as she reaches for the coffee table. One tiny palm finds the edge. Then, slowly… she lets go.

Satoru blinks.

Standing. She’s standing. No hands. No support. Just two steady little feet on the rug.

All by herself.

“…no way,” he breathes, straightening instinctively. “Hey, uh—princess?” clearing his throat, his voice catches slightly. “Uhh… whatcha doin’, huh?”

And then she moves—one step. Wobbly. Uncertain.

Satoru's mouth falls open.

“No, no, no—wait—shit—uhhh… babe?!” his voice pitches as he springs to his feet, torn between staying and bolting for the stairs. “Hold on sweetheart—wait for mommy, wait—!”

Twisting towards the ascending hall, his voice booms.

“Babe! She’s walking!!”

Upstairs, the shower pounds steadily as you scrub shampoo from your hair. A voice echoes up the stairway. With a pause, you tilt your head slightly.

…is Satoru calling you?

“Huh?” you shout back, reaching for the knobs. “What was that ’toru?”

His voice echoes again—louder this time, unmistakable.

“SHE’S WALKING!”

“What?!” heart lurching, you move, fumbling out of the shower, slipping slightly on the mat as you grab for the nearest towel and yank it around your body. “Shit—okay—hang on—!”

But downstairs, equal chaos unfolds.

Your daughter takes another step, and Satoru's still at the bottom of the stairs, caught somewhere between panic and awe. He doesn’t want to move—can’t risk missing it. Can’t let you miss it.

“Okay—just—freeze,” he says, crouching slightly in front of her. “Hold it right there, little lady. Stay. Don’t advance. Mommy’s coming.”

But babbling back in defiance, her little eyes brighten with determination as she takes another wobbly step forward.

“Shit—fuck. Honey, I need you to hurry!” he shouts toward the stairs, voice cracking.

“Coming! I’m coming!” you call back breathlessly, hopping down the hall with one towel clutched around your chest and another half-heartedly blotting your dripping hair. “Just—stall her! I’ll be right there!”’

“Stall her?!” he echoes, eyes wide as she continues toward him, arms extended, smile wide—like he’s the finish line and she’s already won. “How the hell do I stall a baby?!”

Another leg plants itself on the rug, and Satoru scans the room in panic. No bottle. No snacks. No plan. No goddamn time.

“Okay—um, hey—look at me,” he says, dropping to his knees in her path. “Let’s do… let’s do clapping, yeah? You love clapping!”

And there he is, clapping with exaggerated enthusiasm, a desperate smile plastered on his face. But she doesn’t slow down. If anything, she picks up speed—giggling now, like this is all a game.

“Shit. Nonono. You are not following protocol…” he mutters, backing up a step. She’s almost at him. “Please princess… please… wait for mommy.”

He’s at a loss, and so, with nothing else to do, he reaches out—gentle, barely a touch—tapping her belly with two fingertips. But it’s just enough, because with little balance, she blinks—wobbling, plopping her butt onto the floor with a soft thud.

There’s a pause.

Then, in a matter of seconds, her face crumples, lip trembling as a tiny, heartbroken whine spills out of her.

Satoru's eyes widen in horror. “Aw, no—no, no, hey, it was just a loving little stall,” he says quickly, hands out. “A nudge. A tactical nudge. Fuck, don’t cry—”

And you’re bursting into the room just as the first real wail escapes her lips.

“What happened?!” you gasp, chest heaving, towel clinging to your damp skin as you rush over.

Looking up, Satoru's face is wide-eyed, painted with guilt.

“You… you said stall her,” he says helplessly. “So I… I gave her a little push.”

You blink. First at him. Then at her. Then back at him.

She’s hiccupping through a sob, hands balled up against her chest like she’s been personally wronged. Yet somehow, his face is more pitiful than hers.

“She was walking,” he adds weakly, looking down. “I… didn’t want you to miss it.”

Exhaling slowly, the panic bleeds out of you now, replaced by something warm and humorous—the edge of a smile tugging at your lips.

“Oh, ‘toru…”

He peeks up, sheepish. “I panicked.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, stepping closer, “I gathered.”

And sinking to your knees, you gather her into your arms. The second she’s pressed against you, the sobs dissolve into sniffles, cheek nuzzling into your collarbone like nothing ever happened.

“There we go,” you whisper, brushing your hand over her hair. “See? All better. She forgives you.”

“…you sure?” he looks doubtful. “Because she looked at me like I betrayed her entire damn bloodline.”

“Oh, shush.” Huffing a quiet laugh, you roll your eyes playfully, gently lowering her onto the rug in a seating position—pacified, for now.

Stepping closer, Satoru's gaze flicks between you and her.

“Five steps,” he says quietly, sliding his arms around your waist. “She took five real steps.”

“That’s incredible,” you whisper, arms looping around his neck. A slow smirk stretches across your lips. “Next time maybe just… record it, yeah?”

“Tch…” he huffs. “Right…”

And leaning in, his smile meets yours halfway—lips touching where laughter wants to begin. You kiss him, eyes fluttering, a hum rumbling through him.

But then—

pat-pat-pat.

Freezing, you pull away from that unmistakable sound. And turning, you’re left with the sight of your daughter tearing off down the hall with a delighted squeal, her bare feet smacking against the hardwood like she’s been walking her whole damn life.

“Oh.” Satoru's already straightening. “Oh shit.”

“Ohmygod…” you breathe in awe. “’toru… she’s walking!!”

“No,” he says grimly. “She’s running.”

And just like that—it begins.

Yeah. You’re never going to sit down again.

[lucksea]

[cutielando]

paws and chaos | lando norris

synopsis: in which you and Lando decide to adopt a golden retriever

a/n: i don’t know about you guys, but Lando always gives off golden retriever energy, so it’s only logical that he adopts a goldie

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

It had all started with an innocent comment on your part.

"I saw the cutest video of a puppy on TikTok this morning" you had said one morning, scrolling through your phone while Lando sipped on a cup of tea next to you.

"Oh yeah?" he said, looking up from his phone to look at you.

"Yeah. I'd love to have one someday" you said, absentmindedly.

Lando tilted his head, his lips curling into a mischievous smile.

"Someday? Why not today?" he asked, making you blink up at him.

"What?"

"Let's get a dog today" he said, his voice filled with excitement.

"Lando, we can't just-" you started, ready to list all of the reasons as to why this was not a good idea.

But Lando was having none of it. He had already stood up from the dining table, his tea long forgotten as he grabbed his laptop from the counter.

And that's how you found yourselves, twenty minutes later, scrolling through the website of the nearby animal shelter in Monaco. Each puppy he pointed out seemed cuter and sweeter than the last, and despite every protest you tried to make about the two of you being unprepared to care for a puppy, you couldn't deny the effect that each of the tiny faces staring back at you had.

After meticulous analysis of every puppy picture on the website, Lando had stopped on the one.

A scruffy little thing with floppy ears, soulful eyes and a patch of fur that stuck up awkwardly on the top of his head. Both of your hearts melted once you had stared at the picture, a silent agreement that this was the one for you.

The shelter had named him Benny, but Lando immediately decided to rename him Turbo.

"Look at him! He's perfect, don't you think?" he exclaimed excitedly, practically bouncing in his seat.

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked at your overjoyed boyfriend.

"Do you really think we can do this?" you asked, wanting to make sure he knew what he was getting himself into.

He nodded, his eyes staring back at you.

"Fine, let's go meet him"

♡♡♡♡♡

Not even an hour later, you were at the animal shelter, waiting for the staff to bring out Benny Turbo.

The moment he toddled into the room, he made a straight beeline for Lando, his tiny tail wagging so hard it looked like it might propel him off the floor and into the air.

"Mate, you're going to break the sound barrier with that thing" Lando laughed, scooping the puppy into his arms.

Turbo immediately licked Lando's cheek, earning a delighted squeal from your boyfriend.

After a couple of moments, the goldie turned his attention to you. And then it was game over. He wiggled out of Lando's arms and climbed into your lap, pawing at your hands and nibbling on your fingers with his tiny teeth.

"Okay, he's absolutely adorable" you admitted, your heart completely stolen as you enjoyed the attention from the small puppy.

Lando grinned triumphantly.

"I told you" he said, making you roll your eyes.

By the time you got home, Turbo had already earned himself the spot as the king of the house.

He darted from one room into another, sniffing everything he encountered in his sight. When he found Lando's shoe near the couch, he proudly dragged it to his newly installed bed and plopped down on it, staring at the two of you with the shoe still in his mouth.

"Turbo, that's not a chew toy" Lando groaned, chasing after him.

You watched from the doorway, laughing as Lando tried to wrestle the shoe from the determined and stubborn puppy.

It ended with both of them sprawled on the floor, Turbo wagging his tail like he'd won a championship, the shoe still with him.

"What did we get ourselves into?" you thought to yourself.

♡♡♡♡♡

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of adorable chaos.

Turbo was a ball of endless energy, absolutely no corner from your home being safe from his antics and zoomies.

He chewed on the table legs, got tangled into the window curtains and almost broke them. He even managed to steal an entire loaf of bread off the counter while you weren't looking at him.

"Where's the bread I just bought?" you asked one evening, looking around the kitchen with a confused face.

Lando looked around with you until he stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide.

"Uh... Turbo?" he slowly said, his eyes focused on the living room.

You followed his gaze to the room, seeing Turbo sat proudly next to the loaf you had been looking for, crumbs scattered all around him on the carpet like confetti.

"I can't even be mad at him" you sighed picking him up.

He smiled as he started licking your face, his tail thumping against your arm excitedly as he got your attention and affection.

Lando laughed, quickly taking out his phone to snap a picture of you and Turbo.

"You're going to break the internet with that face, Turbo" Lando said, looking at his phone for a moment.

You laughed, leaning down to press a sweet kiss on the top of his fluffy head.

A couple of hours later, it was late into the evening when you and Lando decided to head to your shared bedroom.

Despite the mischief and endless zoomies, Turbo was the sweetest little cuddle bug when nighttime came. Every night, just like that night, he would climb into bed with you and lay down between you and Lando, waiting for belly scratches.

"This is my favorite part of the day" you said, scratching Turbo's ears as he sighed contentedly.

"Yeah, mine too" Lando said, staring at you two.

What more could he want in life?

♡♡♡♡♡

As the weeks passed and Turbo grew, so did the bond between the three of you.

You celebrated every little milestone that he would have: his first trip to the local park where he chased the butterflies and made friends with every dog he came across, every road trip that you guys would take where Turbo would insist on sitting on your lap, every Grand Prix that he would attend as Lando's number 1 fan.

You celebrated and captured every moment.

But you also loved the bond between him and Lando.

One night, after coming home late from a girls' night out, you found Lando lying on the floor with Turbo sprawled across his chest. Lando was whispering softly to him, his voice filled with affection for his little best buddy

"You know, you're the best decision I've ever made. But don't tell your mother I said that, she'll get jealous" he said, running is fingers through Turbo's soft fur.

"I heard that" you called from the doorway, grinning widely as Lando looked up sheepishly.

Lando reached out to you, prompting you to sit down next to him, smiling once Turbo got up from Lando's chest and settled on your lap.

"Traitor" Lando said, pouting as he lost in your detriment.

You shrugged, sticking your tongue out at him as you cuddled Turbo close to your chest.

"You're both the best decisions I've ever made" Lando whispered under his breath, making sure that neither of you heard him.

He was just grateful for you both.

♡♡♡♡♡

Months later, as you sat on the couch with Lando's arm around your shoulders and Turbo snoring softly in your lap, you realized just how much joy the tiny, scruffy puppy had brought into your lives.

"I have to give you credit. Turbo was the best impulse decision you've ever talked me into making" you murmured, your hand continuing to caress his soft fur.

You felt Lando smile against the top of your head before planting a kiss.

"I told you"

And as Turbo let out a little snort in his sleep, you couldn't imagine your home without him or without Lando by your side.

They were everything you could ever need.

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[deadprince05]

Think fast I’m a random girl challenge. Blue Lock.

You decided to joke and make a challenge for your boyfriend from Blue Lock

Characters: Yoichi Isagi, Ryusei Shidou, Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Reo Mikage, Seishiro Nagi, Michael Kaiser

Yoichi Isagi

Isagi sits at the table, intently drawing tactical diagrams (yes, even on weekends he thinks about football). You sneak up with a cup of tea, place it in front of him and smile innocently: "Yoichi, there's something important..." "Hm?" He raises his eyes, and at that moment you abruptly change your expression. "Think fast!" you whisper with fake coquettishness, grabbing his collar. "I'm a random girl now!" Your lips rapidly approach his face - closer, closer... His reflexes work faster than his consciousness, in a split second he jumps back, knocking over the chair, and you hear a deafening crash. "Have you lost your mind?!" Isagi breathes heavily as if he just ran a sprint. "I could have... I mean... Aah!" You nearly die laughing while he, red to the tips of his ears, picks up the chair and mutters something about "unreasonable girls."

Ryusei Shidou

You knew it was a bad idea - Shidou Ryusei was walking provocation, the king of chaos, a man who'd never let himself be cornered. But that's exactly why you decided to challenge him with this, knowing it would definitely lead to something interesting. Shidou was sprawled on the couch after practice, noisily chewing an energy bar while watching clips of his goals. You approach, pretending to adjust your shoelaces. "Hey, Shidou..." You suddenly spring up in front of him, blocking the TV screen. "Think fast!" you say challengingly, grabbing his chin. "I'm a random girl now!" Your nose almost touches his—you can feel his breath, your lips just barely brushing his. Shidou doesn't react at all, so after the kiss, you pull back, annoyed. His lips stretch into that same cocky smirk that sends shivers down opponents' spines. "Seriously?" He slowly rises, forcing you to take a step back. "You brought this on yourself, bunny." His arm suddenly snakes around your waist, pulling you closer. "Well then, random girl," his voice is a slow, dangerous promise. "You sure you're ready for the consequences?" You suddenly realize—your own challenge has just become your personal defeat.

Rin Itoshi

You've noticed for a while that Rin Itoshi is a creature of habit. His world revolves around soccer, winning, and... well, maybe a couple other things. But what if you disrupted his boring routine? You decided to stage a "Think fast, I'm a random girl" moment. Rin sits on the couch, buried in match analysis. You pretend to scroll through your phone while secretly studying his reaction out of the corner of your eye. "Rin..." you say, keeping your tone deliberately neutral. "Hm?" He doesn't even look up from the screen. "Think fast," you suddenly switch to a playful voice. "I'm a random girl now." Before he can process what's happening, you lean in pretending to go for a kiss. His hand instantly plants itself on your forehead, pushing you back to a safe distance. His gaze is icy, but the corner of his mouth twitches with barely concealed irritation. "...Did you hit your head or something?" You bounce back laughing. Rin returns to his notes, but you know - he'll be mentally replaying this absurdity for the next ten minutes and will remember it for a long time. After all, even the king of soccer needs to face surprises sometimes... especially when they're orchestrated by you.

Sae Itoshi

Sae sprawled on the couch, watching football matches and analyzing them. You sidle up to him with an innocent expression. "Hey, Sae..." you begin, toying with a strand of your hair. "What?" You take a deep breath and suddenly change your facial expression. "Think fast!" you say, trying to mimic someone else's voice. "I'm a random girl now!" You abruptly lean in toward him as if going for a kiss. Sae doesn't even blink. Your lips freeze a centimeter away from his while he just stares at you, trying to understand the point of all this. "Are you done?" he finally says, lazily raising an eyebrow. "If you wanted attention, you could've just asked." You pull back, disappointed. "You're so boring..." "Yeah," he smirks. "But predictable."

Reo Mikage

Reo sits in the kitchen after practice, leisurely sipping his coffee. You approach, pretending to have forgotten something in the room. "Reo..." you begin, leaning slightly toward him. "Hm?" He lifts his eyes, but his expression remains unchanged. You suddenly shift your posture, grab his clothes and whisper: "Think fast! I'm a random girl now!" Your lips hover a centimeter from his - you catch the subtle scent of his expensive cologne. For a split second, his eyelids lower slightly and his lips part just a little - as if he almost surrendered to the moment. But in the next instant, he pulls back with a slight frown. "That's... unexpected," he says, running a hand through his hair. You notice his fingers trembling faintly. "What's wrong, Reo? Nervous?" you tease. "Don't be ridiculous," he averts his gaze. The truth is, he would never kiss another girl because he loves you too much - he barely restrained himself from kissing you the moment he realized you were pretending to be someone else.

Seishiro Nagi

You always knew: Nagi was someone practically impossible to provoke emotionally. His frightening coldness, emotionless gaze, and complete lack of reaction to any provocation made him the perfect candidate for this challenge. The guy stands by the window, thoughtfully looking outside—it's impossible to tell what he's thinking. You approach him and start the conversation: "Nagi..." you say, deliberately casual. "..." He silently looks at you, making it clear with his eyes that he's waiting for you to finish what you wanted to say. You suddenly position yourself in front of him, grab his sleeve, and sharply pull him toward you. "Think fast! I'm a random girl now!" Your face is an inch from his—you see your own reflection in his eyes. The guy doesn't do anything drastic, merely leans back from your lips and asks: "Why?" You freeze in slight bewilderment. What kind of question is that? "Uh... well, it's a challenge..." Nagi first looks at you uncomprehendingly, then averts his gaze and says he doesn't want to kiss other girls. But he doesn't want to refuse you either, even if you're pretending to be someone else, so he asks you not to do this again and to just kiss him normally if that's what you want.

Michael Kaiser

Kaiser stands before the mirror, adjusting his perfect hair and checking how the light falls on his cheekbones. You approach, pretending to search for something in the drawer. "Kaiser..." you call flirtatiously. "Hmm?" He doesn't even tear his gaze away from his reflection. You suddenly grab his chin and turn his face toward you. "Think fast! I'm a random girl now!" Your lips are a centimeter from his. You feel his breath mingled with expensive cologne. Your actions catch him off guard—his eyes widen and he jerks back abruptly, hitting his back against the cabinets. "WAS ZUR HÖLLE?!" He looks at you as if you weren't trying to kiss him, but murder him. You burst out laughing, but not for long—within seconds he closes in on you, blocking the exit. "You're laughing?" His voice sounds dangerous. "Then let's laugh together with other challenges." He takes your hand and drags you to your room, where he proceeds to vividly demonstrate all his love for you—so you wouldn't joke like that again.

[plethorawrites]

can I request Damian x reader but reader is like the opposite she’s clumsy and messy (NOT DIRTY SHES JUST NOT REALLY ORGANIZED) and at first Damian is like no way I could ever like someone like that but then he’s like oh shit I think I like her you don’t have to do it but it was just an idea

(A/N- This has been sitting in my drafts for a bit because people are STILL calling me racist, so I've seriously considered wiping Damian from my page completely. But I love him as a character way too much to do that, so here we are!) (Requests are open again, btw!)

---

Despite being rather pretentious because of his upbringing, I think anytime Damian Wayne is assigned to do a group project, he'd want to go to someone else's house. They usually live in squalor (Middle class) but he deals with it for a few hours because it beats having his classmates fawning over his older brother's or asking his dad if he really used to date Harvey Dent or if that's just a rumor.

Usually, despite the condition of the house (Aka having a dish rack on the counter.) the room they'd work in was pretty clean. But you? Oh, no, no, no. He almost had a heart attack when he saw the state of catastrophe your study room was in.

Books on the ground instead of on the shelves, chair pulled out from the desk instead of tucked in, tons of sticky notes scattered on the walls and reminders pinned up. No one could have that short of a memory, could they? You seemed to.

The number of loose papers on the desk, the open notebooks with illegible writing, fidget toys to relieve stress or increase your focus, cups from when you needed coffee for a late-night study session that hadn't made it all the way to the dishwasher yet. (But it was on the sticky note! Right under the reminder to check your email.

Was that a thing people needed to remember to do?

He was utterly perplexed by the chaos you seemed so comfortable in. What he found most odd though, was how you never made any effort to fix it. He had been to your house three times thus far, trying to make a dent in the project that would take at least another week and each time, your room was the same. He even offered to help you organize (For his own sanity) but you turned him down, claiming you liked it how it was.

"How could anyone possibly like studying like this?" he questioned.

You shrugged. "I find having a pristine desk makes me uncomfortable, like I'm not actually doing work in a space I can relax in," you explained. "Plus, research shows environments like this increase brain productivity."

Damian wasn't sure if he believed that for a single second. But you clearly seemed to.

"But it's so messy," he muttered, motioning to your desk, so covered in God knows what that he couldn't even see what color the wood was.

"It's disorganized, not messy," you retorted. "And I know where everything is. Pencil sharper is by the white out because I use both rarely, erasers are where all the pencils are because I stab the led into them when I'm bored, highlighters are the ruler, which is.... under the syllabus I printed at the start of the year."

You pointed at everything as you said it and he slowly came to the realization that you weren't lying when you said you weren't messy. You kind of, in some weird way, had a system that worked.

Still, it felt uncomfortable for him. For a while. He'd watch you chew on your pencil and reach for tape that came from he didn't even know where, seemingly materializing things out of thin air. You barely even sat in the chair, he realized. He was always the one sitting in it, watching you sit or lay on the floor.

The only time Damian was ever on the floor was when Titus knocked him down or he got beat by his brothers during sparring. (Not that it ever happened..psh, no, don't be absurd.)

He slowly got a bit more accustomed to your room, even starting to find a bit of comfort whenever he stepped into it. It was welcoming, in a way, he'd come to think. When had that happened?

"Aren't you supposed to leave by eight?" you asked him, stretching your arms over your head as you sat on the floor across from him.

Damian frowned, looking at the time. He realized it was already 7:55. Had it already been four hours? It seemed like he just sat down on your rug, which, was surprisingly comfortable.

He hated to admit how much more productive he felt sitting on the floor than at a desk. "Uh, yes, right," he nodded, standing up and stretching as well. "I think we can probably get this finished by Tuesday," he added, feeling a weird pang of disappointment by the thought.

You nodded. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow at four, then," you told him, watching as he packed up his books neatly, the pages fitting back in the nice folder perfectly. "Unless you wanna stay," you suddenly found yourself offering. "For dinner, I mean. If...if you want to. No pressure."

Damian paused, caught off guard by invitation. He stared at you for a few minutes, lips parting but words not leaving his mouth. Dinner? That was probably going to last at least an hour or two. Longer if your parents were the kind to serve dessert or chat a lot. He might not get home until ten or later.

"Sure," he agreed abruptly, though logically he knew he should refuse. He was supposed to be asleep by nine so he could get some rest before patrol. "I'd love to stay for dinner," he remarked, setting his bag back down for what wasn't one or two hours like planned, but four and a half.

How he would explain getting home past midnight to his father, he wasn't sure yet. But he'd find a reasonable excuse. After all, his dad was the one who told him to find normal friends and he was just doing what he asked.

...You were just his friend, right?

[multi-fandom-imagine]

May I have more of fatherhood oneshot with Odysseus please? 🥺 this man really gave me baby fever

A/n: aha 🤣 same... (I love writing dad fics for him)

The sun had barely crested the cliffs of Ithaca, and the palace was just beginning to stir—except for Odysseus, who was already spiraling into his second existential crisis of the week.

His hair? A mess.

His tunic? Mismatched and inside out.

His eyes? Bloodshot and twitching.

His sandals? Probably on the wrong feet.

And his mood?

Unhinged.

He sprinted through the halls, arms flailing slightly, looking every inch a war-hardened general turned exhausted dad of toddlers.

“THEY’RE GONE AGAIN!” he bellowed.

He burst into the dining room, startling a very calm Telemachus, who was just trying to enjoy his olives.

“What’s gone?” the prince asked, mouth full.

“The twins! They vanished!” Odysseus shouted, patting himself down, checking under furniture, lifting up rugs. “I turned around for one second—ONE!—and poof! Gone like shadows! Curse the gods!”

Telemachus blinked. "...Father.”

Odysseus was now on his knees, looking under a fruit basket.

“Maybe they crawled into the grain stores again—they love grain. Or worse! What if they’re—”

“Father.”

“—in the stables again? Oh gods, the goats! One of them bit me last time—”

“FATHER!”

Odysseus froze.

Telemachus pointed. "Look down.”

Odysseus slowly looked at himself.

And there they were.

One twin strapped snugly to his chest, babbling happily and smacking his face with a sticky palm.

The other fast asleep, head tucked under his chin, drooling on his tunic like a little sponge with limbs.

”…Oh.”

He stared at them.

Then at his son.

Then back at them.

“They were on me the whole time?”

“Yes.”

Odysseus exhaled long and slow, then groaned and flopped face-first onto the floor, the twins giggling wildly at the ride.

Your voice echoed from the hallway“If you wake me up one more time, Odysseus, I will let the toddlers braid your beard while you sleep.” It was a thinly vail threat of someone who was pregnant that did not to be bothered.

Odysseus just lay there on the floor, two babies squirming on his chest, and muttered.

“I conquered Troy for this.”

One of the twins sneezed directly into his mouth.

“…And I’d do it again.”

•Moments Later•

The late afternoon sun slanted through the nursery windows, painting golden beams across the soft rugs and carved wooden toys scattered across the floor. Gentle harp music floated from somewhere down the hall, and in the middle of it all sat Odysseus, half-slumped in a rocking chair, his eyes glazed and one hand twitching as a half-finished lullaby slipped from his lips.

His tunic was stained with something sticky (possibly honey… or ink?), and one twin had managed to wedge themselves into his arm while the other gnawed triumphantly on a leather sandal.

Odysseus hadn’t blinked in ten minutes.

Enter Telemachus, calm, composed, and carrying a cloth bundle of warm bread and honeyed figs.

He took one look at his father, one look at the chaos, and sighed with fond exasperation.

“Father.”

Odysseus blinked slowly. “…Yes?”

“You haven’t slept in… four days.”

“That’s not true. I closed one eye last night.”

“You fell asleep face-first in the soup.”

“It was a tactical nap.”

Telemachus crouched in front of him, gently prying the chewing twin away from the sandal and replacing it with a soft rattle.

“Go sleep, Father. I’ll watch them.”

Odysseus blinked again, as if processing the words in slow motion. “You… you’ll what?”

“Watch the twins. Give you and Mother a break.”

Odysseus leaned forward dramatically, placing both hands on his son’s shoulders. “You… glorious boy. You brave, noble, reckless boy.”

Telemachus smirked. “I trained with Athena and survived the suitors. I think I can handle two half-naked goblins with sticky fingers.”

“They bite.”

“So do I.”

Odysseus laughed weakly, patted him on the cheek, then swayed to his feet like a war-weary general who had finally laid down his sword.

“I will be laying down next to your beautiful mother.”

“Please try to not create anymore children.”

As Odysseus staggered toward his chambers—muttering about “soft pillows” and “blessed silence”—Telemachus scooped both giggling twins into his arms, lifting them effortlessly.

He looked down at them, one drooling on his arm, the other reaching for his braid.

“Alright, you tiny beasts. Let’s find a storybook, some juice, and see who survives until sundown.”

The twins shrieked with joy.

And behind them, down the hall, a door softly closed…

The man finding the bed, And Odysseus, King of Ithaca, finally slept the moment he was in your arms.

[niwaart]

LOST OMEGA

*Part1 *Part2 *Part3 *Part4

After Y/N settled into the house, she slowly started to show signs of improvement. She was still confused about the time she'd missed, but having Jason, Dick, and Bruce around helped her feel safe. Even Damian, who had tried to pretend he didn't care, found himself sneaking into her room every now and then to keep an eye on the little bunny she'd turned into.

But today was different... because it was the day Y/N would meet Tim Drake, the former Robin she'd never seen before!

Tim had been away on a mission for a whole week, so when he got back, he'd planned on taking a long nap, but he hadn't expected to hear a commotion upstairs when he arrived in the middle of the night... Wasn't everyone supposed to be on patrol by now?

"What's going on here?" he wondered as he climbed the stairs, finding Dick and Jason arguing over who was holding Y/N while Damian tried to snatch her from them with his sword.

"Give me the bunny!" Damian shouted.

"No, it's not a game!" Jason replied, trying to push her away.

"Oh my God, you're like children!" Dick said, trying to mediate.

Tim stood stunned in the doorway. "...Can someone explain to me why there's a little bunny causing all this chaos?"

There was a moment of silence before everyone shouted at once:

"That's Y/N!"

"She's our adopted sister!"

"She's back!"

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Well... I didn't know we had another adopted sister."

Y/N, still in her bunny form, looked at Tim warily. He smelled unusual... He wasn't family! Suddenly, she leapt out of Dick's arms and ran behind the couch.

"Oh no, you scared her!" Dick said, accusingly.

Everyone looked at Tim with an accusing look, which made Tim try to be nice so Damian wouldn't tear him apart. "Hi... I'm Tim. Don't be afraid, I'm a friend."

But Y/N wasn't convinced. Suddenly, she emerged from under the couch, rushed into Damian's lap, and began growling like a predator. "Don't come near Robin!" she shouted, pointing at Damian.

Damian paused for a moment. He finally managed to pick her up after a struggle with Jason and Dick.

Tim looked at Damian, then at Y/N. "Uh... huh?"

Jason laughed. "She likes to protect anyone with an R on their jacket."

Tim looked at the jacket Damian was wearing... yes, it had the Robin logo. "....I still don't understand."

After several failed attempts to convince Y/N that Tim wasn't a threat, Tim decided to use his diplomatic approach. He went to the kitchen, returned to the living room, sat on the floor, and slowly pulled out a bag of carrots.

"Would you like some carrots?" he asked with a smile.

Y/N stopped growling. The smell of carrots was irresistible! She walked over slowly, grabbed the carrots, and ran to the corner of the room to start eating greedily.

"This works?!" Jason said, surprised.

"Of course, she's a bunny," Tim said proudly.

But his joy was short-lived, because Y/N suddenly jumped on his shoulder and started sniffing his neck curiously

"Oh... oh no," Tim said, trying to stay still while Y/N checked his scent.

"She's checking to see if I'm part of the pack," Dick explained.

"I feel like a toy to the cats," Tim whispered.

Suddenly, Y/N stopped and pressed her small cheek against Tim's. "You're... not bad." Then she jumped into his lap.

Tim froze. "What do I do now?"

"Don't move, or she might bite you." Damian said seriously.

"Oh, that's cool," Tim said, carefully holding the little bunny, while everyone laughed.

After that, Tim suddenly became Y/N's favorite target. Wherever he went, she followed him in her bunny form, jumping on his shoulder or sleeping in his lap while he worked on the computer since he was the only one who didn't move much.

One day, Bruce came in to find Tim surrounded by piles of vegetables while Y/N enjoyed her meal at the keyboard.

"Tim, is this a mission report?" Bruce asked coldly.

"Yeah... but she ate half of it," Tim said, trying to salvage what was left.

Bruce looked at Y/N, who had stopped chewing and looked at him innocently. Then he took out his phone and took a picture. "I'll send it to the team."

"Bruce! No!" Tim protested, but he was too late.

By evening, he received a message from Barbara: "Finally, Y/N has found something worth chewing on other than computer wires!"

Even Jason sent a meme made with a picture of a disappointed Tim with the caption: "Ex-Robin vs. Rabbit... Who wins?"

Y/N, still perched on Tim's shoulder, rubbed her cheek against his in acceptance.

Tim sighed. "Well, at least I'm loved."

Y/N snuggled back into Tim's lap for another nap.

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