#so keep an eye out for that!!

[riality-check]

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Steve wakes up early like he usually does. The sun is streaming through his window right into his eyes, his sheets are bunched at his waist, and Eddie is snoring way too close to his right ear.

Steve doesn’t move.

He glances at the clock. It’s early enough that Eddie would complain about the time even if he got a good amount of sleep last night. But he didn’t. Neither of them did, and Eddie had a panic attack on top of that, so he’s exhausted.

He deserves the sleep, so Steve lets him have it.

Steve, however, is still on a swimmer’s schedule even after two years of post-graduation life. He gets up and tries not to focus on last night.

They say nothing good happens after midnight, but nothing good happens before noon, either. Breakfast seems like a good first step, at least, before they sit down and talk.

Really talk, not huddle and cry on a hardwood floor.

Yeah. Steve needs food before they have that conversation.

He heads downstairs, where he sees Nancy sitting at the kitchen table, steaming cup of coffee in front of her.

Before he can say anything along the lines of “I thought you left” or “how did you figure out the coffeemaker, it took me two months to work the damn thing out,” Nancy points at the coffeemaker and says, “Yours should be done in about a minute. Light roast, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. His parents like dark roast. Despite both of them drinking it, that container is more full than the light roast. Steve’s gone through a container of his coffee since they last replaced theirs. He doesn’t even drink coffee all that often.

Sure enough, the coffeemaker finishes brewing, and Steve gingerly grabs his scorching mug and sits across from Nancy.

She still has her curlers in. He’d tease her for it if she didn’t look so exhausted.

He takes a peek into her mug. It’s half empty, but he can see that it’s dark.

“Dark roast, black?” he asks.

Nancy nods.

Nice to know some things haven’t changed since ‘83. Good that that coffee is getting used up.

“You know light roast has more caffeine, right?”

“I like the taste,” Nancy says. She takes a sip of it without grimacing, and Steve marvels at her.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop doing that, not really.

“I thought you left,” he says instead.

Nancy shrugs. “I was too tired to drive. My parents are out of town this weekend, anyway, and it’s not like Mike can use the car. I crashed on the couch. The blankets are in the wash right now.”

“I don’t care about the blankets,” Steve says. It’s true. They’re kind of ugly, too. Some gifts his great-aunt made for his parents’ wedding anniversary, he thinks. They’re warm though, and he likes that at least someone got some use out of them.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Nancy stares at him, but Steve knows she isn’t really looking at him. She’s just thinking.

“I think so,” she says after a minute. “Or at least I will be in a little while.”

Steve nods.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“No,” Steve says instantly. “I need at least a day, I think.”

“Yeah,” Nancy says. She takes another sip of coffee. “Last night was a lot.”

Steve sighs. “Yeah. It was.”

He picks up the mug and when he registers it’s not hot enough to make him want to immediately drop it, takes a sip of his coffee. It’s bitter as anything, and that’s when he realizes he forgot to add-

“Milk and two sugars?” Nancy offers. She’s already up, having gotten the milk from the fridge, and now stands on her tiptoes, trying to reach the sugar bowl in the cabinet to the left of the stove.

“I got it.” Steve pushes himself out of his chair, but by the time he’s on his feet, Nancy has the sugar bowl in hand and is setting it, along with the milk and a spoon, on the table.

Steve is both surprised and not that she remembered where everything is.

He adds both to his coffee, stirs it with the spoon, and takes a sip to make sure it’s actually good this time.

It is. Milk and two sugars never fails.

Nancy finishes her coffee and rinses the mug out in the sink. Then, she turns back to Steve.

“Do you think,” she says, tugging at the sleeves of her shirt, “that talking to someone might help you, too?”

Out of all the questions Nancy could possibly ask him, that wasn’t even on Steve’s radar.

He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t think about it. After everything, especially Starcourt, Steve knew he wasn’t quite all right. People who are okay don’t have nightmares that often, or get way too on edge because of flickering lights or Russian.

But that always seemed like a leap he couldn’t quite take. Therapy is for people who really aren’t okay. It’s something that isn’t talked about, not just in polite company, but possibly ever.

Steve doesn’t know if he’s reached that point yet.

But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think about it.

He doesn’t voice any of this. He just takes a sip of his coffee. Swallows.

Says, “That really seemed to scare Eddie. When I brought it up.”

Nancy sits back down at the table. “Yeah. I’m surprised he didn’t go off more since he was already on edge.”

Oh. So she knew. And Steve didn’t.

“I don’t think you can be too mad about that,” Nancy says, and that’s when Steve realizes he was frowning. “You’d tell Robin something like that before you’d tell Eddie.”

Steve opens his mouth to reply, and, when he finds that he really can’t argue with that, closes it again.

“You could try asking him about it, though,” Nancy says. “He might tell you. I won’t, since it’s not my story, but he might tell you.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Well, if it were me, I would press,” Nancy says. “But you’re not me, and that’s not the right thing to do, I don’t think. I think you just need to wait until he does.”

Steve nods. He’s not the world’s most patient person, but he thinks he can wait if it’s Eddie he’s waiting for.

“You didn’t answer my question, though,” Nancy says.

“What question?”

“Do you think talking to someone would help?”

Steve swallows and stays silent. He can feel Nancy’s eyes on him. He knows she’s not doing it on purpose, that she can’t shut off that intense stare of hers, but it makes him feel like a bug underneath a microscope anyway.

“How about this?” Nancy says after the silence stretches too thin. “How about we tell each other?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, we tell each other if it gets bad. We have to tell the other two, not just one other person.”

“What about Robin?” Steve says.

“Her too,” Nancy replies instantly. She isn’t brushing him off. Steve can tell that she means it, that she might even feel a little bit bad for not including her in the first place.

“We tell the other three,” Nancy says, “if it gets bad. That way, we share the load better. And it’s less scary.”

It is less scary. Steve knows Robin better than he knows anyone on the planet, is learning more about Eddie every day, and used to be able to read Nancy’s mind.

He wonders if he’ll be able to get there again with her. He hopes so. Really, he does.

“I think that could work,” he says.

The smallest of grins appears on Nancy’s face. “It’s less expensive, too. For Eddie and Robin.”

Steve is a little embarrassed that he didn’t think about that factor.

“We have to be honest, though,” he says. “No bullshit.”

“No bullshit,” Nancy agrees. Then, she adds, “You were never bullshit. By the way.”

Steve nods. Smiles. Downs the rest of his coffee and stands up.

“Thanks, Nance,” he says.

“I should have said it before.”

“Maybe. I’m just happy you said it all. You didn’t have to.”

Nancy frowns at the floor. “No, I did.”

Steve doesn’t like the look on her face, so he changes the subject. “I’m gonna start up breakfast.”

“Eddie’s gonna want-”

“Pancakes with sprinkles,” the two of them say in unison.

Nancy grins, and it’s less shy, this time. “He steals all my candy, you know.”

“You don’t like most candy,” Steve points out. He walks over to the pantry and pulls out the box mix and sprinkles.

Nancy keeps smiling and just shrugs.

“Eggos, still?” Steve asks. 

He turns around and sees that Nancy already has the freezer door open and the box in hand. He hears Eddie’s footsteps come down the stairs. He remembers that Robin is gonna come over in a few hours for their weekly “bridge and bitch” afternoon.

Yeah. He thinks they might be okay.

ao3 link

tag list:  @ashwagandalf @novelnovella @ladyapplejackdnd @silentiumdelirium @resident-gay-bitch @brassreign @starrystevie @henderdads @greyhoundsgirl @thegingerrapunzel @seths-rogens @questionablequeeries @miss-hit @edmunsn @readbythestarlight @scooby-dum86 @deehellcat @missarte-beltane @theysherobinbuckley @tillystealeaves @mercrx @nightmareglitter 

[linktoo-doodles]

To eat is to live.

[anetesenpai]

Eternally fascinated by the fact that, canonically, Zoro's single (1) neuron is good at maths

Other crewmate's reaction

[hinamie]

some quick jjk eye paintings

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Vanessa makes sun light up with joy!

[transjudas]

The second he realizes Donna is upset and panicking because they were suddenly taken away from Rose and god knows where in the universe, he took her and kissed her hand and held it against his hearts as he looked into her eyes and promised to get her home. He is comforting her and grounding her. Fourteen really is able to show so much more physical affection and vulnerability. So much more of the love he has in him. He's able to be there for Donna as a friend in a way the Doctor has struggled to do all his life. (x)

[inkskinned]

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

[kaogens]

cant wait to see what traumatizing situation theyre gonna put her in this time

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Good reveal au, where after learning phantom's identity and realizing the atrocities that the GIW have committed (or alternatively, ethical science au, where they find out the GIW plagarized them), the fenton parents decided to create the 'ultimate ghost-ending weapon' and sell it to the agents.

They go absolutely overboard, describing to the agents in meticulous detail how it evaporates any ghost it hits near-instantly and describing it quite ruthlessly in the blueprints, and soon the GIW have raplaced all their main weapons with the new gun.

Except it doesn't actually kill ghosts. It's the Fenton Bazooka. You know, the one that creates a portable portal to suck the ghost back into the ghost zone? What they actually did was retool it slightly to make it look more grusome than it actually is. They even added a beacon in Phantom's Keep, which all Fenton Bazookas will target when they open a portal, so the ghosts are always delivered to the keep.

From there, Phantom stationed an emergency medical team at the keep to treat the many injured and ragged ghosts that the GIW 'destroyed,' and to explain what just happened.

What they didn't anticipate was that now that the GIW have a mass-produced weapon that they believed would effectively eradicate ghosts, they would go on the offensive. They have a number of cities they've been monitoring but didn't want to get involved in without better tools.

One of those cities is Gotham.

And the Bats are ectocontaminated enough to register as ghosts.

Batman witnessed several of his children get evaporated by green energy weapons within mere moments of each other. He's absolutely gutted. Devastated. They didn’t even stand a chance.

He'll get his revenge, and it's frighteningly easy to track the weapon to private subcontractors. The Doctors Fenton, in Illinois. Their research calls for the genocide of all ghost kind, and apparently, that war started by killing his own children.

His children will not die in vain.

He gets to Amity Park and finds the Engineer's Nightmare of a building that is Fentonworks, but that night, before he can hack through the security and break in, one of the windows opens.

It's one of his kids that he had watched evaporate before his very eyes. They give him a silent signal of one of their identifying security codes and gesture for him to come inside.

Is it a trap? A prank in poor taste? Utterly genuine?

He goes through the window.

All of his dead kids are there, wearing borrowed pajamas and only their dominoes to conceal their identities. Daniel Fenton (son of the Fentons, this is his bedroom, has voiced a few arguments against his parent's views, but still an unknown) is among the crowd of teens and young adults, twirling on an office chair and obnoxiously sipping a capri sun.

"First thing you need to know, Bats," Daniel says after finishing his drink, "is that my parents are absolutely NOT genocidal ectophobic scumbags, and that is the reason why your kids are still alive."

[ladysantos]

witch gf shows u the rest of her tattoos 🧙‍♀️

[s0fter-sin]

everyone makes fun of soap when they find out how many hair and skin products he keeps on hand. the cabinet in his bathroom is filled to bursting and he always keeps travel sized bottles on him on missions

when soldiers outside the 141 find out, they call him precious and self-obsessed, a vain pretty boy too preoccupied with his reflection to focus on the enemy. no wonder how he got his callsign. price has given up telling him to leave them on base and just teaches him to individually wrap them so they don’t rattle against each other and give himself away

what they don’t know is that each product contains an ingredient that when mixed with any number of the others, creates potent chemical bombs. he was caught unarmed once, he won’t let it happen again

[ihatebrainstorm]

The (Hopefully) Comprehensive Guide to Drawing Transformers! [1]

[Chapter 1/5?]

Decided to make a little quick guide to drawing transformers/humanoid mechs because some people asked! (Plus I thought it'd be fun lol) .... Hopefully it makes sense and helps some people out :'D

[Next] -> coming I dunno when, I keep adding to my WIP pile......

[ozuzo]

Chokehold 💚

[lazycranberrydoodles]

english translation book 5 baby we are in the ‘people assuming kid form hua cheng is xie lian’s son’ era 🔥🔥🔥 / follow for more hualian silliness

[chloesimaginationthings]

sometimes it looks like game mike has eyelashes personally i love that top tier even if i'm making things up. man i love men i wish they were real

Michael maybe dead but his mascara game is on point

[humanityinahandbag]

Eddie's April Fools joke would be him bringing Steve a baby that he's watching while he volunteers at the foster center (because kids aren't as judgemental as adults and he can actually do some good without getting nasty looks or whispers about satanism and murder behind his back).

He'd show up at Steve's door and hold out a wide eyed, rosy cheeked, somewhat confused baby like, "Steven, I know it's been a few months since our night of passion, but she's yours. I'm taking you for all you're worth!"

And it's such an obvious joke. Such an obvious prank. He'd just been taking this kid out for a walk and getting some fresh air.

But jokes on Eddie, because Steve wouldn't even think before lighting up, reaching out, and snatching the baby to his chest like oh aren't you so sweet, do you want to come inside? Yes you do!

Eddie tries to explain that it's a joke, but Steve just grabs his hand and squeezes it tight and the words die on his tongue.

"Bah phhhfp," said the baby, giving Eddie a look like, dude, you've got it bad.

Steve didn't drop his hand. His fingers were warm and strong against Eddie's. "Where'd you find her?"

"... foster?" Says Eddie. "I'm uh. I'm watching her?"

"And you brought her here?" Steve's eyes crinkled at the corners. His smile was sunshine.

Eddie opened his mouth. Closed it. Nodded. And then nearly fell backwards when Steve brought the hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

"Glooof," said the baby, staring at Eddie. You're an idiot if you don't make a move right now.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. Not when Steve was giving him a tug over the threshold.

"C'mon. Let's get you both inside. I think she needs to be changed. You got a diaper bag hiding somewhere under all that leather?"

It was meant to be a joke. It doesn't land as one. Because somewhere in Steve's head, the paternal switch is cheering, lit up so brightly. Free baby? And the person he liked brought him the baby?

Well. Then there's only one real solution to the problem.

(For Eddie, that solution hits him just as quickly. Especially when the guy he's been in love with since the sixth grade is holding a baby to his chest, shirt speckled in spitup and drool, making coffee the next morning, smiling across the kitchen at Eddie so softly and sweetly. Well. He was done for long ago. Might as well fall all the way.)

Ten years later, Eddie and Steve are sitting on a park bench watching their daughter April try to sacrifice her stuffed bunny on top of the jungle gym.

"You do realize that she was supposed to be a joke, right?" He'd say to Steve, a little teary eyed and so unbelievably happy.

"Jokes on you," Steve would reply easily. "Because I kept you both."

Jokes on him indeed.