#zero o clock

[voxyldy]

[VIDEO]

06.01.2025

“In honor of FESTA 2025 and for ARMY learning Korean, we updated BTS - 0:00 Zero O’Clock - TinyTAN MV with Korean and English subtitles.

Full song on our YT channel”

Source: edsubs_main (Threads)

[ffjj5]

I'm not broken, just bent 😔

So I don't know if the joy of being a peri menopausal woman is the reason I feel as I do, or if it's frustration from having a difficult boss who often forgets we are all human and also have a life outside of work. Maybe it stems from that lifelong feeling I have had of never being good enough ( which is a whole other story involving step parents, step siblings and a dad who prioritized his new family over his own child.) If it's me still adjusting to living with a chronic condition that causes me regular pain and limits my ability to do the things I used to do without a second thought. Or if it's just that the world is going to hell in a hand basket, but right now I just feel like I want to scoop up all my favourite people ( and my cats of course) and just disappear somewhere where we can all just be us, have fun, cry, laugh, sleep, get drunk and declare how much we love each other, play boardgames, eat good food and just forget it all.

This is the shit I want...

I also want peace, the chance to shut out all the noise, to just sit and be.

Jungkook zoning out when he gets overwhelmed is something I can relate to a lot more over the last 18 months. There are many times I have just shut myself at home on my days off because I neither have the desire or drive to go out.

It's too peopley out there.

On a daily basis in my job I deal with the best and worst of the general public and I can't lie, it has made me like people less 😬

All this being said I am not a miserable old women who sees no joy in the world. I have the best friends both near and far, and I have the best daughter who is my best friend and an eternal source of joy and love. I do things that make me happy and I spend time with those most precious to me and we have the best times.

There is just something not sitting right at the moment and I just wanted to put it down in writing as this in itself is very cathartic.

As always there is a BTS song that makes me feel seen and understood 😭😭.

God I love these men 💜

[palfriendpatine66]

Quinlan, Obi-Wan, Anakin: Fuck/Marry/Meet your mom

I love you for this. Just poured myself a refill for it. Be warned tmi

Ok I started with the hardest: meet your mom. That would definitely be Obi-Wan. He’s got the manners, he’s charming, he’ll make a good impression.

I then choose marry Quinlan if for some reason I couldn’t marry the man I want to meet my mom lol. I love Quin. I adore him. I could be happy with him for years. Things would never get dull. He’d be amazing in bed.

That leaves: fuck Anakin

[Can I peg him? I wanna peg him]

[evilkitten3]

"ninja swords"

ok so first of all there's a difference between a sword and a knife, obviously (what that difference is exactly i will leave to your discretion. assume there is one and question nothing). second of all, ninja used multiple kinds of swords and knives, and none of them were ninja-exclusive (probably. there's a lot about ninja we don't know for sure bc weirdly enough the shadowy masked assassins weren't too keen on secret-sharing)

also if you have the time, patience, and resources to both purchase and maintain an actual nihontou, i don't think you really need to be robbing anybody of anything

the uk is not a serious country

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

guys i am going to have a breakdown why do i have to be so boring and lame :[ i fucking hate having a job and school and shit

[three-o-clock-things]

how do the people here consistently manage to make butter chicken without a single spice involved

[depravitycentral]

Short drabble because I was feeling oddly inspired

Tw: stalking, harassment, yucky online sexual harassment, slutshaming, allusions to assault, non-con photography, yucky yucky yucky and sort of incel-y

you’re so pretty

               The comment interrupts your endless scrolling, the notification popping up from the top of your screen giving you pause. Your thumb hovers over the notification, tapping quickly and letting your most recent post fill the screen.

               It’s nothing too terribly fancy – just a post detailing a hang-out at the park with your friends from last weekend. There’s some pretty photos of the autumn leaves and a photo of you smiling and sitting on the swing set – one that’s nearly too small for you now that you’re far from being a child. There’s another photo of you and your friend Erica on a picnic blanket, holding up the rather disastrous sandwich you’d cobbled together with the grossly limiting picnic supplies she’d packed.

               You look pretty, you agree – you’re smiling big, the photo having been taken mid-laugh when your friend cracked a truly terrible joke. You’d felt good posting it, but the comment still makes you feel flattered, a warm feeling settling in your chest that makes you eagerly click on the user’s name.

               You don’t follow him, and he’s not following you. He’s following no one, in fact.

               Furrowing a brow, you shrug. Maybe it’s a bot, or maybe someone you actually do know in real life but just aren’t connected with on social media. The profile doesn’t have the user’s name, just a simple imtired123 and no profile photo. Probably a bot.

               Sighing, you close out of the app, pressing the power button and hoisting yourself to your feet. You’re nearly late for work, anyways – your phone gets discarded into your purse and soon you’re out the front door, pulling your light jacket around yourself tighter in the crisp, cool autumn air.

               nice

               It’s a few weeks later when the next comment comes. Just like last time, it’s on a relatively nondescript post – one you’d made even before the autumn park photoshoot. It’s a photo of your pet, with some cute stickers and editing surrounding the animal’s face. It’s endearing, you think, but certainly not a masterpiece. The other photo in the post is a selfie of you and your pet, pressing a kiss to their cheek. Again, endearing – but nothing particularly groundbreaking.

               It’s the same mystery account, and although it’s strikes you as odd that there’s so much space between the comments, you once again write it off as a bot. This comment’s less fun, though, so you’re quick to just shrug. Besides, your friend’s due to your apartment any minute now – and she gets crabby when you make her wait.

               wear more blue

               You roll over in bed, the buzzing noise from your phone making your eyes squint open. The alarm clock on your nightstand reads three in the morning, and you groan. Blearily, you check the notification, and only groan at the sight of the semi-familiar username commenting on a photo of you in a red shirt for a silly Halloween costume.

               Weirdo, you grumble, unceremoniously shoving your phone back onto the nightstand with Do Not Disturb mode on. Maybe if you’re quick enough, you can get back to the dream you were having.

               you make me so hard

               It comes in the middle of brunch with your two closest friends. You don’t hear it at first, but the second time your phone buzzes you unconsciously reach for it. Your face sours up immediately, and Chelsea to your right notices.

               “Everything okay?” She asks, wiping some ketchup from her eggs from the corner of her lips.

               “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine, just some creep.” You respond, clicking on the account again. It’s the same user – still with zero followers, you see, and only following a single account. You’re about to click on the following list, but the waiter’s sudden appearance stops you.

               “Anything I can get you ladies?” He asks, sending a small smile Erica’s way, to which she only flushes and clears her throat.

               Chelsea grins. “We’re good,” she gestures to the two of you, “but Erica here has been saying how bad she wants to try your sweet cream. For her coffee. Could you get one for her, please?”

               Chelsea’s words make Erica gasp, the waiter laugh, and your own snort fill the air. Erica’s indignant as the waiter winks and turns on his heel, and your phone lay forgotten in your purse as Chelsea defends herself from the onslaught of half-hearted slaps.

               you’re mine

               You’re starting to get tired of this. It’s been a week or so since the brunch incident, and the stranger’s comments are starting to feel a little too targeted to simply be a bot. You’re curled up on your couch, TV playing some mindless sitcom while the moon shines outside the apartment window, when you click back into the stranger’s account.

               The comment had been left on a story you’d posted earlier in the day showing a short video of the scenery outside the train you commute to work on. The sunlight had been hitting the city skyscrapers in a pretty way, and you’d wanted to take a snapshot of the moment.

               You’re mine… It makes your toes curl, unease settling in the pit of your stomach. A strange thing to comment, really, and with only the smallest moment of hesitation, you firmly press down on the block button. Closing out of the app, you place your phone on the other end of the couch, focusing in on the familiar jangle of the television show’s theme song. Bot or not, the shenanigans would stop.

               greedy attention whore

               The post is of your baby cousins. They’re young – four and six, to be exact, and the photos are just the aftermath of them eating chocolate cake for a birthday party. There’s frosting smeared across their cheeks and down the front of the pretty white dresses they’re wearing. It’s sweet, it’s innocent, it’s normal – even if the comment isn’t.

               You swallow, pressing on the account’s profile. The little icon pops up reading ‘new’ below the imageless profile photo, no description present. The account’s entitled imtired132 this time, and you grit your teeth. This can’t be a bot, you’re sure – it’s too specific and frankly too hurtful. You don’t know this person, but you’re starting to wish you never will.

               You block them again, rushing to delete the comment on the post for fear your cousin will see and worry.

               show me your tits

               Three days later. You block them again.

               your justt a dumb whor

               A day after that, with grammar so bad you almost don’t bother to decipher it.

               why are you ignoring me

               One week later, on the same post as the last time.

               just came to the thought of you, want to see

               Commented at four in the morning, then deleted, then reposted.

               you’re so pretty it makes me want to die

               Ten days later, with a separate comment only containing a pink heart.

               fucking slut

               It comes at a really bad time – there’s never really a good time, you suppose, but being stuck in the sketchy, dirty bathroom of a club with tears running down your cheeks alongside your mascara certainly isn’t a good time. The dress you’re wearing feels too tight and suddenly too short, and you wipe at your eye as you look at the comment.

               You’re at a fucking wedding in this post. It’s nearly six years old – your cousin’s wedding, as a matter of fact. The one whose kids you’d watched for the birthday party, the one who had her bridesmaids dress in rather modest navy pantsuits to match the aesthetic of the event. Slut. In your full-coverage outfit? The only skin showing is your hands, neck and face. Your hands are trembling as you sniffle, not even bothering to check the account’s details before clicking on the profile and selecting the direct message option.

               What the fuck is your problem? Leave me alone. Your message and short and simple, and you don’t read it over for grammatical correctness. You’re not sure that you could, given how thick your tears have become, the night’s events paired with the comment only making you feel worse. It’d sucked that your longtime crush – a friend of Chelsea’s, one that she’d been dying to set you up with – had ignored you all night, and to top it all off just left with another girl. It’s demoralizing, and the alcohol in your system has left you feeling bold and emotional.

               Your comments are creepy, and there has to be a better way to spend your time. You send the text, block the account, and shove your phone into your purse. Chelsea knocks on the stall door again, worry evident in her tone, but you can only sniffle harder.

               The next morning you wake up feeling like you’ve been hit by a train. Your head hurts, the room is too bright, and your limbs feel heavy. The hangover is bad, and it’s not until late in the day you gather the courage to look at the bright, hypnotizing screen of your phone.

               There’s fourteen unread direct messages on Instagram.

no better way to spend my time, always about you

don’t cry          

crying just makes you hotter

would you cry for me, if i asked you to

if you cry 4 me i’ll nut 4 you

do you want that. i want you to want that

you’re so dirty

i knew it just from looking at u

An hour pause, then the rest.

i love you

i love you

i love you

i love you

i love you

i love you

               You’re shaking by the time you finish reading, any trace of a headache gone as you swallow. This person is fucking insane – this is demented. You’ve blocked him how many times? How many times has he created a new account just to harass you?

               You drop your phone onto your mattress, unable to move. It’s only the insistent buzz of an incoming call notification that brings you out of your reverie. A quick look at the caller ID shows an unknown number, and immediately you’re out of your bed, leaving the room and trying to ignore the sound of your ringtone.

               It��s a good, long twenty minutes before you build up the nerve to listen to the voicemail the number left. It’s five minutes long, and it’s mostly heavy breathing. You think you hear something clicking and rhythmic in the background, but you can’t bring yourself to admit what it is. There’s a loud gasp, then ten seconds of silence, and then very quietly: check your messages.

               There’s three of them.

               don’t ignore me. why are you ignoring me? i hate it when you ignore me.

               so beautiful

               Attachment: 1 Image

               The photo’s dark, but one glance is enough to show you that it’s you in the photo, fast asleep and entirely unaware of the pale, bloody hand resting on your hip in the photograph’s corner.

               The vomit comes before you can help it. You’re shaking again, nearly hyperventilating as you grab your purse and run to the door of your apartment, fingers trembling so badly you can hardly type in the location of the nearest police station. It’s only a ten minute walk, and as you grasp onto the door handle and swing the door backwards, you yelp at the sight of a man in your doorway.

               You’ve never seen him before, but there’s something in his eyes that makes your throat dry up, tears prickling at your eyes, a small, warbled little no falling from your lips.

               “Hello beautiful,” he starts, one hand coming up to your doorframe. Fingers wrap slowly around the wooden frame, holding tight as he takes a single step towards you. “Ah-ah-ah, not so fast.”

               You’re frozen, so shocked and terrified that you can’t will yourself to move, to take action, to do anything even as he steps closer and closer.

               “Y’know, you’re much prettier in real life.”

               The door slams shut behind him.

(This was not written for anyone in particular, but now after re-reading this is strongly feeling like Gyutaro, Shalnark, or maybe some flavor of Atsumu.)

[gatorbites-imagines]

please pretty please good sir, please right an imagines of Kurt Wagner with a demon, like full on demon from like the Bible s/o, like straight up like a prince of hell kind of demon.

p.s. I love your fics sm 💐🌅

Kurt Wagner x Demon male reader

Headcanons

Did you guys know that in olden time, people thought owls and toads were linked to the devil? Was this an excuse to give the reader animal characteristics? Yes, yes it was. Fruits like strawberries and cherries were also used to symbolize different more bodily involved sins. I took a bit of inspo to how the demons look in Dictionnaire Infernal, since they’re cool and goofy.

I may still be tired and wrung out from all my classes, but the will to write lives on. How’s everyone’s week been?

No one had known you were a demon in the beginning. Everyone just kind of assumed you were another mutant. They already had one member of the x-men who had wings, so it wasn’t the wildest thought that you were like warren.

Your wings were a bit more like an eagle owl, and sure, sometimes your eyes would morph into something like a toad or even a goat, but they had seen much weirder.

You not stepping inside churches or other holy areas was mainly seen as a personal preference, since you were so casual about it. you technically could step inside the buildings, but it was too much work to be worth it for you.

Instead you’d hang out outside with the others who didn’t feel a need to step inside. And yeah, you may have carved a sigil or two into the building behind your back, so you could teleport there in the future to cause some trouble if you got bored.

Demons had no specific form, at least your father didn’t and so you didn’t. you simply morphed into the one that felt most comfortable, making most believe you had a shapeshifting mutation.

There were multiple kings of hell, but your father had always been the most powerful and most influential, so you were expected to follow in his footsteps, which was why you had kind of ran away to earth.

It was just so boring, sitting there and doing all that kingly work so your father could retire with the other ancient kings, since demons don’t die, they can simply only be ignored and rebutted.

You had never meant to help the x-men or join them, but they’d been there at the right place at the wrong time, and just happened to catch some human trying to assault you for being a “mutant”

It was only the x-men stepping in that kept you from trapping the guy in eternal damnation, but you decided why not just play along for now, see where it takes you. And before you knew it, you were an x-men, helping to “fight for the good of mutant kind” or whatever.

It wasn’t hard to make you seem like a mutant, for you to even show up when Charles was looking for mutants with his powers.

It was all good and dandy, until that furry blue bastard wormed his way into the six pitch black organs you called your hearts. Well, sometimes it was six, sometimes twenty, sometimes zero, it really depended on the day.

But it was six the day you realized Kurt had gotten into your good graces. More than that honestly, as he made you feel… flustered. How he succeeded in making a demon like yourself flustered was still a mystery to you.

You had been drawn to him in the beginning because of his whole “blue demon” thing, only for it to turn out that Kurt was religious, and would sometimes wear a cross. He even prayed at times, the action always making your skin itch.

Kurt was honestly the only one to start putting things together since he knew some about demonology, hell, your name was just a shortened version of your infernal title. Weaker demons showing up and groveling at your feet and referring to you as their prince probably didn’t help.

Luckily it had just been Kurt around at the time, but the blue imp clocked you quicker than you thought they would.

Surprisingly, Kurt didn’t hate you or fear you. To him, you were an x-men and helped save people, so you weren’t fully bad. He even went out of his way to pray somewhere else so your hands wouldn’t burn and for your wings to start burning at the edges.

Somewhere along the way, what you had morphed into more than just a friendship. You had an inkling that your father would have your hide when he realized you had bedded a mortal, and one so clearly meant for heaven when the day came.

But eternity was so long, so who could blame you for wanting to spend it with someone as kind as Kurt. Even if you knew somewhere deep inside, that you would mourn Kurt for most of that eternity when the time came.

Kurt talked you into telling the x-men your true origin. They were hurt in the beginning, and you politely stepped out of the team since you technically weren’t a mutant, and you wanted to respect that.

That didn’t stop you from hanging out at the mansion, or on Krakoa when that came around. How you got on the island? You would never tell, mainly because it drove Scott crazy that he could never figure it out.

After coming out of the hellfire closet, you felt less need to control your form to the same degree. To most you were still just a mutant, since the body you wore the most had been a mutant, so… it counted in a loophole kinda way.

Everyone got good at clocking who you were, even on days when you altered your shape completely. Kurt was obviously the best. Even on days where you had a lion head and the tail of a snake, or when you had three heads and a burning crown.

It was a little awkward when Kurt became a priest and built his own religion like thing, mainly because you just couldn’t get yourself to touch him when he wore the uniform.

It was the aura for the most part. None of the others got it, or saw it like you did, but they weren’t demons, so it made sense. But Kurt always carried an aura, and it was manageable enough on regular days. But after sermons it just got strong enough to make your tongue buzz and your feathers puff up.

Kurt got good at wiping himself off in a metaphorical way, so you guys could kiss and cuddle even on days he did sermons. And you as a demon were way too strong to truly to hurt by it, it just got a bit annoying sometimes.

All in all, you two were happy. Even if you had to chase away demons that wanted to take over earth every now and then. Your father had never given you your own domain, so you just kinda slapped your name on earth and told every other demon to square up for it.

Some did come out of the woodwork to fight, mainly just because they could. No one really wanted earth. Too much trouble, too much holy interference, and all those magicians? No way. It was just older demons wanting a good fight for the most part.

Kurt also came to really like your less human look. Maybe he was projecting, but there was something nice about having a partner that didn’t look too “human”, if he could say that without being offensive.

There were days where you looked like the average human man. But other days you were more beast than man, or even the days where you didn’t even want a blood-filled body, so you were made out of sand or water, or anything along those lines.

He did have a preference for forms where you had a tail, because it was comforting to coil your tails together. Or if the form you took had claws, since it felt so good to have your hands rubbing up and down his back and scratch through his fuzz.

There were times when Kurt forgot to take off his cross, or hide it under his shirt, so you did get small burns, even if they went away in a few seconds. You didn’t care much, but seeing Kurt apologize was always very cute.

Having a powerful demon like you on the side of the x-men also helped out a lot during fights. You stayed out of it for the most part, to “keep balance of the mortal plane” or whatever your father said.

There were times when Kurt was in mortal danger where you stepped in though, but you always contained the worst of your powers.

And staying back also meant you could focus your powers on healing those that needed it. Kurt got the most of it, of course, as you would cuddle and kiss him, your kisses transferring the healing energy instead.

It was nice. And yes, you knew one day you’d be alone again, stuck on earth after claiming it as your territory. But the present was so good, so warm and loving, that the cold empty future didn’t matter.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Pup's Halloween

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle x Child!Reader

Summary: The fourteenth of my Halloween-centric fics

Lucy loves her family.

Her parents. Her brother and sister. Her aunts and uncles and grandparents. All her cousins and everything in-between.

But she loves, most of all, this little family in Spain she has.

With Ona tucked under her arm in bed and the baby in their new bedroom just down the hall and the even more excitable child that she shares with Keira and Laura.

She loves Keira too, to an extent. Not that romantic love that surrounded them when you got adopted but still a deep love that comes with being co-parents to an excitable little girl that's up way too early to be healthy.

"Pup," Lucy groans, voice still thick with sleep and unbelievably groggy as she hears the familiar pitter-patter of feet on the carpeted floor," It's too early."

"No," You say," Mummy says when the clock says nine and five-zero. She says that's wakeup time."

"I'm not Mummy, Pup," Lucy reminds you," This isn't Mummy and Mama's house. It's Mum and Mami's house."

"With Baby Sibling, yes, I know. Still, wake up time. Pumpkin day."

Lucy's eyes crack open, lifting her head off the pillow and astounded by the way Ona's still fast asleep throughout this whole exchange.

"Why don't you just get into bed with us?" Lucy asks, weary and still heavy with sleep.

You point to the tv mounted on the wall. "Paw Patrol?"

"Mami's still asleep."

"I wake her."

Lucy fights back a groan. "No, Pup. We can watch Paw Patrol but it has to be low, alright? Mami deserves to sleep."

"Okay."

Lucy helps you into the middle of the bed, letting you drink from her water and turning on your favourite episode of Paw Patrol before you speak again.

"Baby Sibling awake too," You tell Lucy.

She screams into her pillow - her lay in well and truly forgotten.

By the time she gets back to the bedroom with the baby, you've successfully woken Ona who looks a little dazed and confused but happy nonetheless.

"And Mama take me climbing at rock wall with funny thing around my legs," You're telling Ona when Lucy comes back in.

"I told her not to wake you."

Ona laughs, bundling you closer as she raises her arms for the baby. "I have no problem being woken by Pup kisses."

You grin at her, showing off all your pearly whites before clambering over to Lucy to give her kisses too.

"Pumpkins now?"

"Later," Lucy corrects," Let's get through breakfast first."

The idea of pumpkin carving had originally been Keira's idea but it had only been in passing but you'd really taken to the idea, insisting that you actually get to do it with at least one of the couples.

At seeing the slight look of disgust on Laura's face at the idea of rummaging around in pumpkin guts, Ona offered up her and Lucy as the sacrifices.

Which is really the reason why Lucy's sat at her own kitchen table trying to dig a knife through the stubborn pumpkin sat in front of her.

The baby babbles happily in their highchair as Ona stands at the kitchen sink, supervising your hand washing.

"Do you need any help, Luce?" She asks.

"No!" Lucy insists," I've got this!"

She very much doesn't have this but Lucy isn't about to let a stupid pumpkin beat her.

Finally, after several desperate moments, she manages to cut through and breathes a sigh of relief as you come over, dressed in your puppy costume.

"Alright, Pup," Lucy says, hefting you up onto her lap," We're going to take this pen and draw what we want to cut out."

You take the pen, nodding seriously. "I draw puppy."

"No, Pup," Lucy says gently," It's Halloween. Remember those designs I showed you? Something like that."

Ona chuckles from her seat across the table with her own pumpkin.

"No," You say," I want puppy."

"I-"

"If she wants to draw a puppy then let her draw a puppy," Ona laughs," It'll make her happy."

"But I'm the one that has to cut it out."

"Then you'll make her happy," Ona says.

Lucy sighs again and you look up at her.

"Mum?"

"Alright, Pup," Lucy says," Let's find some pictures of a dogs on a pumpkin to get ideas, alright? Let's see if we can copy one down."

Ona, like Lucy predicted, finishes her pumpkin much quicker than you and her and you leave Lucy to cut out the picture in favour of watching Ona place a candle into her pumpkin, showing you the way it lights up the scary face she's cut out of it.

"Do you need any help?" Ona asks.

"No! I've got this!" Lucy insists as she gets through a particularly tricky curved area of your puppy drawing," I'm nearly done."

But it seems Lucy's version of nearly done is different to Ona's definition of nearly done because times passes and your baby sibling gets put to bed and you have your bath time.

"Mum," You call, toddling towards her in a different puppy onesie," Night-night."

"Night, Pup," Lucy says on autopilot, leaning down to drop a soft kiss to your crown," Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams!" You says back, slobbering all over Lucy's cheek in your own version of a night time kiss before hurrying back to Ona for your bedtime story and a glass of warm milk.

"Done!" Lucy announces, putting down her tools to triumphantly look around," I did it!"

"That's nice." Ona's head pops around the door frame. "But can you be a bit quieter? The kids are asleep."

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 13

Cass looked up as Jason came out of Danny’s room. He looked better.

After Danny had been stabilized, Cass had taken Jason away from the safe house and to Jason’s place with the gym in the basement. She knew what it was like to have that need to act— to hurt to ruin to end— burning under her skin. She gave Jason the fight that he needed, letting him punch and kick until they were both covered in bruises and he was shaking apart in her arms.

Today he looked better.

“N is going to stay with Danny,” Jason said with a little nod backwards.

Dick, Jason, Tim, and herself had all been taking turns staying with their new brother. He was sleeping a lot right then; he was waking with nightmares a lot too. Waking up with one of them touching him seemed to help him calm the quickest so they took turns staying close.

“Red?” Cass asked with a little tilt of her head.

Jason glanced at the clock on the oven as he opened the fridge. He wasn’t really hungry, but eating out of habit. “He’ll be over here in two hours, I he doesn’t get distracted.”

“Be nice. Red cares. He’ll be here,” she said.

Jason seemed to settle on something and popped the top off before throwing it in the microwave. “Yeah… yeah. Danny’s pretty much wormed his way into all of our hearts, hasn’t he?”

“Yes. Will for rest too.”

Jason snorted. “As if he already hasn’t with B. They didn’t need to meet for that. You know how the old man is, a real bleeding heart of stone.”

Cass rolled her eyes and ordered again, “Be nice.”

Jason frowned at her but she just smiled serenely back until he rolled his eyes. It was a win enough for her.

The heated food was set on a trivet between them and Jason stuck two forks in it.

“I’m thinking we get O in here in a few days,” he said around his own large bite of lasagna. “Danny is healing better this time, but we don’t know what sort of set back this will cause mentally and all. Having another set of hands would be good.”

“O will like him.”

“Course she will,” Jason said with almost a scoff.

“No O and Red,” Cass added thoughtfully after she had chewed her own bite. This was definitely Jason lasagna and not Alfred lasagna.

“Yeah… I don’t think I’m going to trust those three in a room together for a long time,” Jason said with a dawning sort of horror. “Danny took apart the remote here and now it has buttons for services I didn’t even know existed. I swear it will change shows on its own too if no one is paying attention to it. It’s useful, I guess, but a little creepy.”

“Ghost brother,” Cass said with a little shrug.

Jason’s eyes narrowed before he let out an exhausted sounding sigh. “I hate that you might be right. Our controller could be haunted now.”

“Alas poor Yorick?”

“Wrong character,” Jason said, pointing with his fork, “but that is a play with a ghost in it so good job.”

Cass smiled happily at the praise. “Once Red is here, you and me errands?”

“You just want to buy Danny another present,” Jason said, jabbing his fork in her direction.

“Yes,” she said with zero shame.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Fine, but we have to do groceries too.”

-

Babs had been warned that Danny was still very skittish, but he hadn’t actually expected him to freeze like a scared rabbit when she came into the apartment. She stopped rolling forward and moved her hands to where he could see them both clearly.

“Hi Danny,” she said with her kindest librarian voice that she had. “I’m Oracle. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Danny shook his head, the motion ran through him like a shudder and whatever had frozen him shook off him like water off a dog. His smile was still shaky though, so Babs didn’t think that whatever the reaction had been was completely done.

“Hi, Oracle.” His voice was soft, rough, a little broken.

She’d heard from a number of the bats about the latest development and the trauma that went with it, but it as still something to see someone that looked like a young Bruce covered in bandages and looking more than worse for the wear.

“Are you alright if I come in? If you aren’t, that’s alright. I’ll just talk with Nightwing in the hall for a little.”

“No, you can come in,” Danny said, sitting up a little straighter. His eyes flicked over her again. “It’s just… your hair reminded me of someone is all. No one… no one bad.”

Babs offered him a smile and came the rest of the way into the apartment. “If that changes, just let me know.”

“It’s fine, really,” Danny said, though the words were still a little bit of a whisper.

“Well then,” Dick said, interrupting the end of the oddly tense moment, “Babs, do you want any hot chocolate?”

“Thank you, but without the mountain of whip cream I know you liked to put on it,” she said, giving Dick a playful glare.

He shrugged unrepentantly. “Danny?”

“Yes please,” he said. He was fussing with the blanket he had been sitting under, folding it up just so.

Babs moved towards the kitchen to give him a little bit of space and the illusion of some privacy.

‘What was that about?’ Babs asked Dick silently through raised eye brows, a slightly twisted frown, and a subtle nod towards the living room.

‘Not a damn clue,’ is what Dick’s shrug said back.

It almost made Babs sigh.

Danny was still a complete mystery to her. While they were being good and had avoided taking blood or fingerprints from Danny, Barbara had at least been trying to find Danny’s path through the city. She’d been saying for days now that the boy was like a ghost.

She just didn’t expect that to be as literal as it was.

The nickname had lost any of its fun.

“Danny, whipped cream for you?” Dick asked.

Danny’s eyes darted from Dick to Babs.

“Oh, feel free to have it like N,” Babs said with a smile. “I just don’t have the sweet tooth that he does.”

“She never has, it’s tragic,” Dick said with a sigh as he started to warm a pot of milk. “So, whipped cream.”

“Um, yes,” Danny said.

“I will take sprinkles though,” Babs said. “Do you have the little—”

“Bats?” Dick scoffed. “Of course I have the little bats. You can’t have proper hot chocolate without the little bat sprinkles.”

“Of course not,” words serious but unable to help the little smile that she sported.

“You all really like the theme, don’t you?” Danny asked, though he was smiling too now.

“The boy in the hoddie with the Bat logo on it does not get to talk,” Dick said and tossed a large marshmallow at Danny with pin point accuracy.

Danny caught it effortlessly and started to pull it apart with a little shrug. “Hood got if for me as a present.”

“Of course he did,” Tim said as he finally emerged from wherever he had been tucked away. He handed the tablet he was carrying over to Danny before he sat down in the neighboring armchair. “He’s just trying to claim you first, as if him and I didn’t find you together.”

“Hot chocolate, Red?” Dick asked while Danny was busy looking bewildered at that.

“Sure, but add some coffee to it?” Tim asked.

“No,” Dick replied far too cheerfully. “But seriously Dandelion, a Bat logo from a Bat means something.”

Danny’s face scrunched up at that and he looked down at himself. “I don’t think… he was trying to claim me?”

Babs snorted. “Oh, trust us, he was absolutely claiming you. He probably felt that he had to do something material to even start to compete with B.B., as if he wasn’t cooking for you all the time.”

Danny stared back at her with wide blue eyes. The open surprise and desperate want was odd to see on someone that looked so much like Bruce. Damian certainly never let himself appear that way.

“And Red is already souping up your tablet, I’m assuming— though if you really want an improvement let me see it,” she continued, talking over Tim’s little snort, “and N is making you the special hot chocolate. Even Signal is thinking what he can get you and Spoiler is whining that she hasn’t met you yet.”

“She is getting so annoying,” Tim whined while Danny stuffed the shredded marshmallow in his mouth, likely to get out of saying anything. He looked more than a little teary eyed. Tim gave him the out by continuing, “We’ll have her over one morning when she’ll be tired and easily distracted by waffles. You’re not up for the full Spoiler experience yet.”

“Trust Red on that,” Dick interjected as he stirred the coco, “he dated her.”

“I don’t know what either of us were thinking,” Tim said with a sigh. “We are both way too high maintenance in different ways for it to have worked.”

“You were still waiting for you bi awakening, baby bird, you were missing out on half the options,” Dick said. He dropped one of the oversized marshmallows in each of the four mugs before pouring the scalding hot chocolate over it.

Babs left him to his sorcery and wheeled over to the couch before working her way onto it. Danny helpfully moved the blanket out of the way and then offered it back after. She draped it carefully over her legs.

“So what did Red do to your tablet?”

“I actually didn’t do anything,” Tim said, and then had to pause. “Well, not after I gave it to Danny at least. I was just making sure everything was still good. Danny’s been tinkering with it.”

Danny gave a little shrug and picked at the edge of his hoodie.

“Do you like engineering then? Or inventing?” Babs asked, trying to encourage Danny to open up a little.

“Yeah, my— I—, I mean…” Danny stumbled over his words. He lost some of his color with each false start until he was worryingly grey. He swallowed thickly. “Yeah, I used to at least.”

“Danny, hot chocolate,” Dick said with impeccable timing as always.

Danny whispered a thanks and took the almost overflowing mug. He could basically hide behind the mound of whipped cream and he definitely tried to. Babs took the offered mug with a much more modest dollop but an absurd amount of bat sprinkles. Her lips twitched up in a smile as she took a sip.

Tim’s portion was somewhere in between Bab’s and Danny and of course Dick’s was practically laughable. It’s a wonder he didn’t make an absolute mess of himself drinking it as they argued over a movie to watch. It was clever of the Bats, really, they had started to narrow down how long Danny had been a test subject by what movies he had seen or not.

It was somewhere between seventeen and twenty-three months.

Nearly two years.

They were all lucky that Danny had made it out at all. They all knew the statistics of something like that.

Hot chocolate turned into dinner turned into Danny cuddling Dick on the couch and eventually resting against Bab’s legs. A good sign about her acceptance, according to the birds.

“Oracle?”

Babs had thought that Danny was asleep. She reached out to run the tips of her fingers through his hair. The lights from the movie that was still playing glinted off her pink nails. “Yes, Danny?”

“If I asked… would you be able to find someone for me?”

She tilted her head. “The person that I remind you of?”

“Yes. Just… just so that I know she’s okay.”

“Is she in danger?”

“No, she’s not like me. She’s…” Danny cut himself off, swallowing back the words.

“But you’d still like to know.”

“Yes.”

Babs hummed. It was technically an abuse of her powers, but they were something she abused all the time. “Yes, if you ask me to, I can find out if she’s okay.”

“Okay. I’ll… maybe I’ll ask. Thank you.”

“Of course, Danny.”

---

AN: I struggled with this chapter at first, but it was because I was jumping right to Barbara meeting Danny and not giving the others some more time to deal with the change in Danny. They still haven't really dealt with it, right now they're focused on healing and getting more help through Babs being around.

All our poor Bat's. So attached already and so traumatized.

But not as traumatized as Danny...

Stay delightful, darlings!

[wwaheoh]

Can I request for shy gn s/o asking Lycaon if they can touch his tail please?

“Can I Touch Your Tail?” Zenless Zone Zero x gnReader

Nekomata, Von Lycaon, Ellen Joe

a/n: added Nekomata and Ellen!

... A fairly common question that came with varying answers. Tails, ears, and all extra appendages that Therians were born with were seen differently by those with them. Some would think of them similar to an arm or a leg while others would be more sensitive, putting higher emphasis on them, granting the privilege of touching their extra appendage to close friends- a sign of trust. 

So asking this question to someone you considered being very close with was an ultimate test of trust. Maybe you did or didn’t have this in mind when asking- only asking out of naive curiosity, yet to them it’d be a pretty high-tier test of trust and how they viewed your relationship.

“Nyahh? Where’s this come from?” Nekomiya turned to you, still munching on a mackerel as she spoke. “Hmm…” She thought for a second before smiling and nodding. “Okay, sure! Just don’t pull!”

You nodded, happy that she allowed you this privilege. Slowly you leaned forward and softly pressed down on the feline-Therian’s gray tail, feeling the soft short fur that were usually covered by the protective sleeve she wore. Nekomiya purred, ear twitching as she felt your hands caress her sensitive tails, shivering and wagging with giddiness- always so protective of her Therian appendages, it felt nice to have someone pet them- at least someone she trusted. 

Nekomiya would usually say yes if you asked her, only saying no when around other people- since some would take it as an open invitation or when they were sleeved, though that was usually when in Hollows or out in public. 

“Of course.” Lycaon spoke warmly, his voice the same cool even tone it always was. Yet as you attempted to pet his tail, it became a tall order, as every time you reached for it, the tail wagged wildly- nearly hitting you in the face with fluff. But once you finally got a handle on it, it felt soft, obviously impeccably taken care of, nothing less for Lycaon.

You pet it softly, small ‘Ooh’s and ‘Aahs’ as you felt the soft silver fur under your fingertips, running your hands with utmost care as to not accidentally cause any discomfort. Looking up to the Therian, you noticed his ears twitching, a satisfied smile on his face, a small hum of satisfaction as you pet him. 

A small part of him wished for you to continue, even as you let go and went back to whatever responsibilities you had. If you ever asked to pet him, as long as it wasn’t on the clock- though it was still debatable, he would happily allow it. 

“Huh?” She looked up from her phone, lollipop tilted slightly upward and tapping stopping, her usual bored look being sharper than before. Oh she was very familiar with people asking to touch her tail, being something incredibly big- a little over the length of her entire leg and the circumference of a dinner plate, it got a ton of attention wherever she went. Classmates, children, and weirdos at work would ask to touch, and she’d always tell them no. If they tried to forcefully touch her, she'd give em a good wack- not the children though, usually able to just move it away from their reach. Though at work, Lycaon was pretty good at being there at the right moment, kicking out any unruly customers or finding a way to tell them to buzz off in that professional manner that she couldn’t care enough to do.

Though she thought of it for a bit, the two of you were pretty close and you weren’t like the other weirdos, eh, if she didn’t like it then she’d just tell you. “Sure.” She leaned a little to give space for her tail. As your hand made contact with it, a small jolt went through her- unused to allowing people to touch her. “AhhhHhhh~...” You quickly pulled your hand back, worried that you'd done something wrong. “Oi, I didn’t say stop.” It felt as though she had become more annoyed that you stopped petting her tail than when you asked the question…

Ellen would be apprehensive but if the two of you were close enough, she’d let you touch it every once in a while. Usually away from other people, definitely not at school or at work. 

[miserycanary]

PERSISTS IN DELUSION ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & reader 

synopsis: you've left and what was left of Ghost (pt.2)

tags: I really don't know whether to tag this as fluff or angst 

The clock hanging by the wall ticks persistently like a bomb waiting to break Ghost’s delusion that you’ll come back. Ever since that night, he has spent his time like a literal ghost. Barely eating, barely moving, barely living without you. 

With each heavy step that he takes toward your shared bedroom—now bare—the pain in his chest drags him. “I’m home, baby..” he gruffs at the presence he tricked himself to think was still there. Dropping his things by the door, he moves so slowly and plops himself at the mattress that is now cold.. Like how it always was before you came into his life and warmed his whole body and soul. 

Ghost isn’t a crier. Never was. He took all the beatings from his father without letting a single tear fall. He didn’t shed shit when he had to force himself out of the grave he was put in alive. Not even when he left with no family and had to witness that moment with his own eyes. Ever since then, he has swore to heaven and earth that they will never take anything from him again. Depriving himself of anything that could tie him down emotionally.

Then suddenly there was you in all your glory.

Face painted similarly to his as you hand the kids celebrating Día de Muertos candies. Ghost never thought he’d take a step back in this country but as if tugged by fate, he found himself surrounded with the similar decorations that started his nightmare. Yet all he could zero out on was you. And that moment, Ghost knew that heaven and earth were snickering at him, mocking him for what he swore long before was now forgotten. 

As the crown dissipates, he takes all the scuffed pieces of his heart. “That’s a pretty flower,” he grumbles. He sees the way you flinch at the sudden person, turning around to see his towering self. Simon wasn’t stupid and he knew how intimidating he looked and expected you to be scared. His apology is already at the tip of his tongue. 

“Thank you! Do you want it?” He stills, blinking at the unexpected reaction. “O-oh, yeah, thank you.” You, on the other hand, expected the giant of a man to take the delicate flower with roughness, even expecting some petals to fall yet he took it so gently. Simon plucked the stem from your hand, placing it on the wide expanse of his palm and leaning lower to expect it. “Pretty..” he mutters, and you almost agreed if not for the way he said it with his eyes on you. 

Time passed and you guys were intertwined, lives and love exchanged throughout the two years he was with you. 

Ghost fully expected you to run when he first told you about himself, but you stayed. You tore down his walls with patience and care, showing empathy for what he has gone through but never pity and that made him fall deeper. Now Ghost would be lying if he said he has relationship experiences but he knew that if he doesn’t take this opportunity, then he’d lose you before he even had you (he lost you either way). 

But what could he do now? What’s done has been done. He could learn about a relationship all he wants but who matters the most to him is gone. With a new profound energy, he pulled himself up, opening the drawer beside him. He shuffles through the pile of things before pulling out what he was looking for. Sighing, he opens the box and stares at the engagement ring. 

Taking you for granted was not his intention. When you started to cook him meals, take care of the dishes, and everything else, he thought this was the norm. His duty was just to spoil his pretty girl. He never found anything wrong with the dread and exhaust that paints your face everyday because he was used to the heavy weight and assumed everyone was like that. You never complained, so he thought everything was fine. 

And he never wanted to snap back at you. He knew all about the sacrifice you did and gave for him, and how much you went through just to stay with him. He watches your eyes dim each time he tells you that you guys have to move once again or how broken you were when he found you at the hands of someone who wanted him dead. Loving him and being loved wasn’t easy but you did it with no complaints. 

Now he had to go out and be stupid, letting you slip from his fingers just because he couldn’t carry his weight for some measly housework. The very next day that you left the house, staying somewhere who knows where, he bought a dishwasher and hired a cleaner. Try as he might to do the housework just to please you, he knows that his time won’t allow it. So, he tried his best to work around it with the hopes that you’ll come back, but where were you? 

He has called your number multiple times after giving you enough space but no calls were returned. You were coming back to him, right? You won’t leave him, right?

You’ll still love him, right? You will. Ghost smiles softly to himself, kissing the ring while a shy tear slips. “You’ll look so pretty with this ring, darling…” he whispers to the presence that he tricked himself was still there.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: this is so long overdue. Sorry for the person who requested this because it took me this long!! 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open! 

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Yes, I've seen this, and yes, it's a fucking clownshoes travesty. Riot CEO Dylan Jadeja and Marc Merrill can both eat a big fat sack of shit, the executive class at that company is staffed by incompetent vultures who will throw five hundred people's lives into turmoil because interest rates aren't zero anymore, but who will never so much as shave the five o' clock shadow on their own compensation packages.

If they gave a single solitary shit about sustainability, they would have built a company that can operate when the interest rates are Anything Other Than Zero. They didn't do that because they don't actually care about that, and these layoffs are ENTIRELY about appeasing shareholders and meeting quarterly growth targets, no matter how pathetically Jadeja may protest that He Would Never.

Legends of Runeterra struggled because Riot catastrophically mismanaged it, as evidenced by the DOUBLE 180 degree turn they've now done on Path of Champions as a product. Riot Forge is getting shut down so Riot Games Inc. can go jerk off Saudi Arabia with PR laundering esports events and gag on MBS' veiny, shriveled faucet of oil money, I remember when the LCS tried to get away with promoting NEOM.

Since I cannot repeat it enough: eat shit, Riot CEO Dylan Jadeja, and also Marc Merrill, you incompetent fucking vultures.

[my-pjo-stuff]

No but you know what would be a fun AU? You know what would be the absoloute height of comedy?

Frat Boy Luke AU.

An AU in which nothing went wrong in Luke's life at all. May never went mad, which meant that Luke never had to run away and was raised in atleast relative way. He visits CHB normally by going there at 12 and since he doesn't exactly want a quest in this 'verse, Hermes sees no reason to give him one.

Lukie boy procceds to be the fuckboy himbo he was always meant to be as he's chilling somewhere in Conneticut or whichever state his College is in and lives his best life. He meets Percy and the gang in lieu of their wild roadtrip through the US during TLT and decides to pick 'em up as hitchhikers after clocking them as demigods. (Alabaster takes Luke's role in this universe and still steals the lighting bolt and pins it on Percy)

Just imagine being Percy, going through absoloute hell as you attempt to figure this whole demigod thing out while trying to save your Mom. Only for some 19 y/o teenager to drive by in his convertible, taking one long look up and down you and your friends and then tells you to get in his car.

My homeboy Luke has no idea what the quest even is about. Frankly said he has zero intrest in the demigod world and thanks the gods he no longer has to visit camp since he does still have distain for them. But also he wasn't called CHB's resident big bro for no reason.

Percy has no idea who this guy is, but also Grover and Annabeth seem pretty relieved to see him. Luke asks if they want McDonalds, Percy says yes. Luke proceeds to get him some junk food. And while Luke can't exactly come along to help them, he does drive them a nice chunk of their journey.

Our MCs proceed to run into Luke in increasingly random ways over the entier course of the books. Percy get's increasingly exasperated at the coincidence of it all. Luke decides to offer him alcohol instead of McDonalds by the time BotL rolled around.

[sailorblossoms-rankane]

Much holds Ranma and Akane back from confessing (even if on some level They Know) but I like how the cheerleading arc spells things out in a way Ranma is somewhat "comfortable" with (making it a challenge and concealing Akane's identity as knowing it's her makes him Combust).

It all starts with Akane's team losing a volleyball match because of the opposing team's cheerleader (Akane's been through considerably worse so I doubt that would have knocked her out, but I like that Ranma will not let her get hurt in any way shape or form on his watch).

Losing like this makes Akane cry out of frustration. Ranma doesn’t know how to comfort her (too many feelings) but seeing Akane’s feelings being hurt is something he can’t let slide. He only knows how to deal with things as fights/challenges... so he turns this into one

The cheerleader "falls for Kuno" (she's too desperate for romance lol) and so she challenges Ranma for him. Ranma doesn't have a single fuck to give until he clocks her as the girl who made Akane cry. this frames their match as one about love (L-O-V-E, if you will)

The cheerleader is doing it all for Kuno, but Ranma is always doing it for Akane. She's the only reason he takes the challenge, but he keeps this to himself, so on the surface, it seems like both "are fighting over Kuno" (sidenote: what the fuck is Kuno’s problem lmfaooo)

Establishing that "to cheer is to love (the one you're cheering for)" but putting Kuno in the middle makes Ranma have zero chance of winning, until Akane figures out it's about her. that a match about love has Ranma fighting for Akane's sake is an obvious declaration of his love

Just like how Ranma can't let Akane's feelings being hurt slide, Akane can't watch Ranma struggle/about to lose without trying to do anything to help him. her joining a match about love is also an obvious declaration of her love. Ranma fights for her sake, Akane has his back

On the surface, giving Ranma an unknown figure he can pretend to love is safe precisely because "there are no feelings attached." But it could be said that making that figure Akane, and having them fight together, makes it a celebration of their love... without the pressure of acknowledging it as such.

To cheer is to love, and while Ranma doesn't get this (refuses to perhaps) it's repetitively stated that you can't fake this stuff. He's correct that they are evenly matched, but unbeknownst to him, it is only because that guy is Akane. It's the only reason they win!

Sidenote: Kuno has given Ranma trouble so it’s notable that when Akane’s identity is separated from her roles as love interest/"normal" girl meant to contrast with the circus, she gets a bit of shine/praise usually reserved for male challengers. Kuno is fighting pissed and for real.

Nothing outside of Ranma’s real fights with other guys are “consistent” or taken seriously so I wouldn’t either. We’re told Akane is slow but she moved so fast here she fucking teleported with a new fit. (Not a manga for the power scaling hoes, I’ll tell you that much)

(If the plot needs it Akane will get it done. If it wants a Romantic Rescue, she won’t) (Note how the tone is different when Ranma fights as a girl. The challenges are deranged, exploratory, and very unserious – I mean, even more than usual. If it's a True Shonen Fight being a girl is a handicap. It is what it is)

“Ranma fights for her sake, Akane has his back,” seems like traditional male/female roles, so it’s interesting to see a reversal. I’d say doing so is saying that Ranma and Akane are equals. They’ll also do/push whatever mold/obstacle needs to be pushed for the other.

These panels really spell out how this arc is meant to "celebrate their love" (without pressure/shaking the status quo plot-wise at that moment). It encapsulates something we see whenever shit hits the fan, potentiated in the final arc: Ranma and Akane make a great team (the Power of Love etc)

Even if Ranma doesn't know that's Akane yet, their usually dynamic is still there, making it feel more authentic

(should have probably been obvious this is Akane at this point lol)

Something that really stands out to me too is that a match explicitly about love has Ranma teaming up with Akane in girl form. Look at Akane's reaction to a girl Ranma embracing her and saying they're in love.

While Akane "sheds her skin" to fight "as a girl" in the final stages, they still do the "romantic rescue" with Ranma as a girl, and the romance of it all is acknowledged as such. Akane revealing her identity also gives weight that "to cheer is to love" for all present

They even do a repeat of the "Ranma throws an 'I love you' to win a match and the gag is he said it to the person he's actually in love with, proceeds to freak out" with girl Ranma for good measure (they do this with him as a boy in the Nabiki as a fianceé arc)

It's not the first time we see romantic tension between them when Ranma is a girl. When she thinks girl Ranma is going to kiss her "we're both girls" is tied with "people are watching (public judgment)" ... Akane Tendo I know what you are

Just look at these reactions. At her excited little face when she hears "Ranma confesses he loves her." She's not any less excited because Ranma is a girl when she hears the confession... it's saying that Akane accepts Ranma just as he is (I know what you are Akane Tendo!!)

Miss cheerleader accepts her defeat because she acknowledges that the teamwork she witnesses between Ranma and Akane as romantic love (and at no point questions that those two are girls. Cheers to that)

At this point, I think Ranma likely knows on some level that he’s in love with her (as opposed to just liking her/finding her cute) (the specific way he denies it being a giveaway too lol) He’s just not ready to admit it and for others to know it.

The vulnerability of others knowing he’s extremely down bad for Akane goes against the manly strength he’s been taught and he doesn’t know how to deal with all the emotions (thanks Genma I guess). And Akane awakens too much.

Also, the arranged marriage means pressure as it makes the stakes of admitting his feelings so much higher... the noisy classmates also add to it, as it means Ranma never has the privacy he needs to process his feelings for her. If he has none at home or a school, where would he?

[the-effect-of-chaos]

There is something so fucking cursed about getting a good couple thousand words into a work in progress only for your brain to IMMEDIATELY start plotting out another fic.

Anyway another thicc thighed athletic Omega Steve who is a total Momma Bear fic idea for you all (that is currently tormenting me because of course it is...) straight from the sleep fogged archives:

O!Steve and A!Eddie one night stand/short term casual hook up post Starcourt, which leads to Steve discovering around Christmas 85 he is pregnant, cue a series of unfortunate events for our favourite babysitter. (BONUS POINTS: they hook up in Indy and don't recognise each other, maybe a BDSM club or something where scents get mixed up and make it hard to discern individuals. Steve only discovers the baby's paternity by scent and running into Eddie later).

His parents find out and he is kicked out for good. Hop's 'dead" it's the well and truly winter and it is by complete accident that Claudia Henderson finds out and forcefully adopts Steve into her home. This saves him from being homeless and/or sleeping in his car however it does mean Dustin and Claudia along with Robin become overprotective as fuck over Steve.

Dustin is able to keep Steve's secret both about his pregnancy and living situation, although he has zero idea of who the sire of the pup is. Which makes his attempts to get Eddie and Steve meet all the more awkward for Steve to get himself out of.

Robin is the only person who knows Steve has found out Eddie is his pup's sire.

The lead up to season 4 remains as seen in canon with the exception being Steve is not actively dating. Instead, he is doing his best to keep quiet about his pregnancy and keep the pups (and the rest of Hawkins) none the wiser at least until he can determine what to do about Eddie, about his living situation and about how he is going to afford raising his pup because you know that man is determined to keep them.

When the UD shit hits the fan, Steve is then left dealing with several crises all at once, and the Upside Down is only one of them.

1. Eddie immediately clocks that Steve is his mysterious hook up/ still harbours unresolved feelings about their hook up when they meet again in the boathouse.

2. The discovery of Steve's pregnancy following the older teens getting out of UD following the Watergate shenanigans and a near feral Steve fighting for his and his pup's life (and turning Eddie on big time while he does it) leads to the pups and Nancy losing their shit not to mention Eddie.

3. Cue Eddie figuring out the timeline and putting two and two together. I am imagining a very stilted and awkward conversation between the two where they both decide to leave the big decision conversation till after they deal with Vecna.

4. Which then sees Feral O!Steve 2: Electric Boogooloo when Eddie gets himself critically injured. (I am thinking a mix of stubborn CPR administration with a shit tonne of various 'don't you fucking think about dying before I have our damn child Munson' followed by him dragging him out of the UD and an adrenaline fueled feral pregnant omega tantrum of epic proportions at the hospital which gets Eddie seen immediately despite the hesitation over the whole satanic panic).

And because I am a HAPPY ENDINGS ONLY in this household despite my love of a good bit of angst in my fics. They get their shit together while Eddie and Max are healing (Steve totally hasn't adopted Max after her mother has gone MIA or anything), and Eddie and Steve obviously confess their undying love for one another. Steve has the baby/ies, and Uncle Wayne gets to be the best goddamn Grandpa in the world. Claudia cries when Steve asks her if she is willing to be his pup's Grandma. While Max and Dustin argue over who is gonna be the better Aunt/Uncle to the baby/ies (Robin is equally as invested in the argument and often is found squabbling with the two of them over it.)

Joyce and Hop are the baby/ies acting second set of Grandparent's, a fact that bemuses Eddie given his history with Hopper.