#i call bee “hun” because. bee. honey. makes sense

[friendball-irl]

Kiss kiss fall in love 😘💖 @touya-san

>/////<!!!!

M-mwah!

[avatarmerida]

Sweet Things

Writing pointless huntlow fluff in preparation for For The Future, indulge me.

---

“Wow Willow, you really went all out with the florals!” Luz exclaimed as she opened the door for the plant witch and her impressive selection of dahlias in every possible color.

“Thanks!” Willow said brightly, setting them down to go prepare a vase. “They reminded me of your mom’s tablecloth I found in the hall closet so I thought it would be a fun addition to our special dinner for tonight!”

“It’ll be like an explosion of color!” Luz exclaimed, examining the colorful folded fabric Willow had placed on the counter. “We haven’t gotten to use that tablecloth in awhile, it’s got a huge rip on the side from when I tried to use it as a parachute.”

“Oh, I didn’t even notice,” said Willow, making a mental note to ask about that story later on. “Well, I bet Hunter could fix it.” She finished filling the case with water and called out to the next room. “Hey, hon?”

“Yes?” Came Hunter’s voice, quickly followed by him sticking his head in the doorway.

“Do you think you could fix the tear in the table cloth for me? I wanna make the table look fancy and it matches the flowers I made for the center piece perfectly.”

“Of course!” Hunter said brightly, walking over to take the fabric from the counter. He gathered some sewing supplies from the drawer in the kitchen and set up at the kitchen table as he accessed the work that needed to be done.

“Yay! Thanks so much,” said Willow with a smile, placing the flowers in the vase and admiring the presentation. “I’m gonna go finish up some things outside then I’ll be back to help set the table.”

As Hunter and Willow went to carry on with their tasks, Luz said at the counter wondering if she had misheard Willow. As Hunter focused on his repair work, Luz looked at him with confusion as though an explanation was in order. After a minute, he looked up to find her eye on him and offered her his own look of confusion. “What?”

“Willow just called you ‘hon.’” She stated as though he wasn’t aware.

“Yeah?” he said, not seeing her point. “It’s short for Hunter, like Hun-ter.”

“Are you sure it’s not short for ‘honey?”

“I mean, she calls me that sometimes too,” he said nonchalantly. “But, I guess that’s not technically short for Hunter since it’s the same amount of syllables.” 

“Hunter, Willow is not calling you honey because it’s short for Hunter.”

“I know, I just said it’s the same amount-.”

“No dude, I think she means honey likes actual honey.”

Well, maybe? I guess it’s probably because my hair is yellow which is the same color as honey.” Hunter reasoned. “I mean, her palisman is a bee so it makes sense she would know a decent amount about that.”

“Hmmm maybe,” said Luz, not convinced. “But I think it’s because she thinks you’re so sweet just like honey.” She reached out to pinch his cheek and used the baby voice she would speak to King with. “Aww, look at you! Willow’s widdle honey baby boy.”

“Stop that!” he said, turning his face away from her. “It’s probably just because she really likes bees-.”

“Or because she really likes yoooou.” said Luz, not convinced or willing to be wrong about this. “Alot of people call someone honey when they’re, ya know, more than friend.”

The tips of Hunter’s ears turned bright red at the suggestion.

“W-w-well that’s just silly!” He said, not sounding like he believed his own words. “I’ve never heard you and Amity call each other that!”

“No, but she calls me her batata which means sweet potato,” said Luz.

“Do... all terms of endearment have to be food related?”

“I mean, I guess not?” said Luz. “But honey is a pretty common one.”

“What are... other common ones?” Said Hunter clearing his throat, trying to seem like he was focused on his sewing and internally hyperventilating about how oblivious he possibly was.

“Whyyyy?” Asked Luz with a smirk that seemed to read his mind.

“No reason, just curious,” he lied, as there very much was a reason.

“I dunno like ‘sweetie’ I guess?” Luz racked her mind for a list of examples.

Hunter squeaked. Luz looked over and saw he had stabbed himself with a needle, as though something about what she said had distracted him.

She gave a little gasp. “Does she call you sweetie?” Luz asked, raising her eyebrow.

“Sometimes?”

“Hunter!”

“She calls me a lot of things!” He said, sucking on the tip of the finger he has stabbed. “I mean, okay, she calls me flower names-.”

“What? Like what?!”

“She calls me daffodil, sometimes...” Hunter said quietly, the redness from his ears spreading to the rest of his face. “And like, sunflower I guess. But it’s not-.”

“Well you can’t deny that Willow loves flowers,” teased Luz with a smirk. ”Awww, are you her little flower?”

“Wellmaybeiamandyourejustjealous.” Hunter mumbled quickly and almost too quietly.

“What was that?” Luz joyfully inquired.

“Maybe I am and you’re just jealous,” repeated Hunter, not looking at her as he tried to focus on threading his needle. “I mean, you can’t expect me to believe that Willow doesn’t give nicknames to anyone else.”

“There’s a difference between a nickname and a term of endearment.”

That much Hunter did know. He knew what titles commanded respect and which ones were meant to ridicule. The only other nicknames he had received had been negative or ironic, two things Willow was definitely not towards him. He knew the nicknames she gave him came from a place of admiration, but he never dared to dream that it was such a... unique admiration. 

“So like, someone would use these terms for someone they... liked?” Hunter asked carefully. 

“More than just liked.” Luz said. “Like, liked-liked.”

“Sometimes like which times?” Hunter asked urgently. “Like, is it possible it’s just a coincidence and it’s just purely platonic because Willow just has a vast knowledge of plants that resemble my hair color?”

“I mean, some people use them that way, yeah,” said Luz trying to hide the delight she took in Hunter’s panicked expression. “But I’ve never heard Willow call anyone else ‘honey.’ In fact, I think that’s what her dads call each other. Ya know, her dads who are in looove.”

“So that could be... why.” Hunter said slowly, unable to deny that it made sense. Unable to deny that he was kind of glad that it did.

“Do you have any nicknames for her?” Luz asked, putting her hand under her chin as she took delight in watching Hunter process this new possibility.

“I mean, I call her Captain but that’s more her title than a nickname,” said a Hunter, searching his mind. “Should I have one for her?”

“I mean, if you want to, yeah,” said Luz. “It’s not like a requirement or anything but it could be a cute way to let her know that you like her too.”

“I’m not... very good nicknames,” admitted Hunter and Luz noted happily that he did not deny the implication that he liked Willow. “Most of the ones I've given have had more literal connotations and not in a nice way. And I’ve never really had a reason to use a term of endearment, what are some good ones?”

“My dude, you’ve come to the right place,” assured Luz, pulling out her phone where she kept a list in her notes for just such an occasion.

-

Hunter sat at the table looking down at his hands as he practiced what he wanted to say in his head. When Willow walked through the door he stood up, holding the folded tablecloth close to his chest as she reentered the kitchen, trying to seem relaxed.

“Oh, uh hi!” He said as though he had not been waiting for her to return. He held the result of his labor out to her. “I finished the tablecloth. Good as new.”

“Oh no, it’s even better!” She smiled, taking it from him to admire the skillful repair. She unfolded it and twirled around the kitchen with it like she had just been given a gown for the ball.  “Now it’s got that special Hunter touch, thanks so much buttercup!”

“Of course!” He said, taking the use of the word as a sign to test the waters. “Anytime... babe.”

Willow stopped spinning as her ears perked at the word and she quickly turned her head from admiring the craftsmanship to looking at him in slight disbelief. “What did you say?”

Hunter gulped. Maybe she really just hadn’t heard him?

“I said, uh, anytime babe.” He repeated quicker, leaning against the doorframe hoping it sounded more natural this time as he landed the sentiment with finger guns. He tried not to linger on the word so it wouldn’t seem like her was trying so hard but he did want her to notice so she would notice that he noticed that she-

“Oh, yeah,” Willow cleared her throat. “That’s uh, that’s what I thought you said.” Her voice seemed labored, as though she was trying to adjust her breathing. “Well, uh thanks again... uh Hunter.”

Just Hunter? No marigold? No honey? Not even dandelion? Titan, he had ruined everything! Why had he listened to Luz? Willow hadn’t been calling him those things because she liked him more than a friend! She was just being creative! 

“Of course, of course,” he said, now seeing it was his turn to steady his breathing. “Maybe we should uh, start setting up the table? Camila will be back with the take out soon.”

“Yeah, I wonder if we’ll need any sugar.” Willow pondered, still learning when sugar was needed and when salt was meant to be put out. 

“Any what?” Hunter asked as though she had not finished her thought.

Willow looked at him with a raised eyebrow before she understood what he thought he had heard her say. “Oh no, I meant actual sugar,  like for the table.” Willow clarified, a soft crimson dancing across the bridge of her nose as she realized he had a reason to be confused; she had called him that numerous times.

“Right, right yes of course,” said Hunter, embarrassed trying to look busy as he fetched the plates from the higher cabinet. “But um would you... like if we put sugar on the table? Like, would you say that you... like sugar?”

“Well yeah, I like sweet things,” she said as she gathered the forks and knives. She looked across the table at him, meticulously placing the plates an even distance from each other. Clover flew over and sat atop his head, resting peacefully like Hunter was the sweetest smelling flower she had ever come across. Hunter was so used to this action by now that it did not deter his focus and he subconsciously reached up and scratched her head with his finger and the palisman nuzzled against it affectionately. “You of all people should know that.”

[bullshit-in-disguised]

Yeager program headcanons

Honestly I strongly believe that Optimus is the affectionate one of the relationship, because he feels that he’s safe with Cade to show a more vulnerable side that others (Aside from Bee) don’t know about.

Cade is actually Touch starved so it’s a good thing that OP is affectionate as Cade gives back that love for the big guy in the forms of kisses, pats and just sweet forehead touches. Plus they cuddle a lot in bed so they are super sappy with eachother.

When it comes to nightmares Cade is normally the one to wake up screaming and panicking about his loved ones being endangered. OP is the one who calms down Cade when he has those night terrors by gently embracing Cade or simply having a small conversation until Cade falls asleep as the Prime wraps his arms around him protectively.

Optimus on the other hand when it comes to his nightmares it’s mostly ties into his trauma and the War but tends to stay awake or by going to the kitchen doing paperwork or reading books or datapads to distract himself. Cade often wakes up feeling that the big guy is not on bed and tends to search for him. Often finds him in the living room and just sits alongside him asking him if he’s alright. This often leads them having small talks or just Cade telling the prime to go back to bed, he often promises prime that he’s not leaving or anything. This usually works to get Optimus out of the funk.

Cade has moments missing being human as he looks at his servos. He has moments of crisis thinking about how unrecognizable he is now and before he spirals down Optimus senses his pain and comforts Cade reminding him that deep down he’s still the loving human from all those years ago. Often Optimus remain on Cade’s side until he feels better.

They go on small dates of just star gazing, talking about their pasts and etc… they don’t go out much due to their responsibilities but still they go at times to catch a break.

They often argue but it’s not serious mostly things that regular couple stuff or times where they call on each other’s shit. The relationship is pretty healthy overall.

Cade has a the Habit where he climbs on Optimus’s shoulder as he lays his head on there. Prime doesn’t mind often he rubs his hand around Cade’s face and purrs to give back the affection.

They have pet names for each as Op calls Cade: My beloved, Dear, my knight and pretty chessy stuff, while Cade calls Optimus: Hun, Babe, OP, Old Wreck (is a favorite) and Honey pie and other corny things.

Let me tell ya these two are a match made in hell on the battlefield, they work together so perfectly and often are in sync in combat. They compliment eachother a lot in battle as they cover their weaknesses. Imagine fighting a fucking a warrior king and his dragon that is strapped with guns and gadgets you’ll die instantly.

When it comes to test Cade’s much larger weapons and inventions that he makes, Optimus is the first bot to test it out for Cade. As Op often criticizes and points out the strengths and flaws of the inventions before Cade had to do fixes and improvements with his engineering team.

[luvdsc]

Hello! How have you been? How has life been treating you, hun? I wanted to ask a question that stirred around the time you were talking about your ideal type on your blog, if I'm not wrong...but what according to you is the difference between an ideal type and a bias? I was just curious, please feel free to neglect this if you wish, thank you!

hi, honey bee!!! 🌸 I’ve been doing really well and enjoying a relaxing summer at home, thank you for asking! I wish I could go out and travel, but compared to how others are faring with the pandemic, life has been kind to me 💗 How are you doing, lovebug?

everyone has different reasons for choosing their bias, but I choose my bias based on who I would want as my best friend / who has a similar personality to mine / who I relate to the most! 💓 I pick my biases after getting to know the group and each member’s personality more.

for nct, I chose sicheng after watching nct life osaka where he called taeil a kiss ass with the most innocent smile on his face at one point, and I was like “this man with limited korean skills can still obliterate someone like that?? I must stan” and it’s the same for renjun in dream :’) his sarcasm and snarky wit is fantastic. they’re my favorites because my personality is most similar to theirs and I relate to them! based on what they show to the public, I feel like we’d be really good friends 💞

An ideal type consists of the personality traits I look for in a romantic partner. Jeno isn’t my #1 ideal type and I don’t want to date him, but out of all the nct members, his public personality is the closest to the type of person I’m attracted to. My previous romantic interests were all very similar to him in terms of personality! 💝

I also separate ideal type and bias from physical attraction. if we’re going by who I think is the most physically attractive in nct, it’d be hendery! 🤩 from my artistic perspective though, I think ten has the most aesthetically pleasing face, and he’d be the prettiest to paint a portrait of ✨

I hope this all makes sense, and please feel free to send in another ask for any clarification or if you have any other questions, sweetpea! 💐 and I hope you have a good day/night 💛

[studiobeebo]

Bee my darling amazing writer friend, could I request headcanons for Maile/Midoriya and your girl Miku and Sunshine boy about pet names? It would be adorable to see Miku calling him ridiculous names just cause she thinks she has to! Luv youuuuu 💕💕

i would die for you cupcake

Maile/Midoriya

The first time he actually used a pet name on her, it was actually a complete accident.

When the two of them first started dating, he second guessed every single thing he said and did and everything about his interactions with her was meticulously planned out because god was he in love and he did not want to risk losing her because he said something dumb or did something at the wrong time.

This meant that even though he was beginning to become a bit more comfortable with her despite being stuck in a state of shock about actually being able to call Maile his ‘girlfriend’, he was still a bit rigid and stiff around her.

His cheeks would still flare up every time she intertwined her fingers with his own and his voice shook when she would compliment him or make so much as a flirty comment, but even though it could be embarrassing, he kind of liked it.

Maile gave him a feeling beyond the flusteredness and embarrassment that he’d never really felt before and the fact that he could just look at her and feel like things were okay was something he really cherished, so when he was spacing out and thinking about such things, it was easy of him to lose track of what he was saying, and when Maile called out to him during lunch one evening and his immediate reaction was “Sorry, what was that babe?” he didn’t think much of it.

That was, until he noticed the look of shock on her face and the color that quickly flushed her cheeks as he realized what he had just said and immediately began to sputter out apology after apology, thinking he had overstepped his bounds while mentally kicking himself for being such an idiot, but when he saw that painfully adorable and sheepish smile on her face as she looked down at her hands, he realized that maybe it wasn’t as bad of a mistake as he thought as she mumbled out an explanation that everything was fine.

Even though he initially thought he would never live down that moment, he started testing the waters a little more with pet names here or there after that, and Maile even returned them with her own sickly sweet nicknames that never failed to make him melt almost as much as his words made her melt.

Miku/Haru

Miku isn’t exactly relationship savvy and that was something that was…pretty clear before their relationship even began.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, or dare she say, love him, she was just an honest to god idiot when it came to feelings.

For starters, she still had plenty of issues with how she viewed herself in regards to her work, and unfortunately, those insecurities transferred over to how she felt about herself as a whole.

For the longest time she denied having any feelings for that god awful perfect idiot because he was so perfect. His personality was so bright and genuine, he had hundreds of adoring fans (and rightfully so considering his work as a pro hero), and to tie it all off with a sparkly bow, he was too gorgeous for words. She felt inadequate with her prickly, possibly “bitchy” personality, failures as a hero, and (in her eyes) less than satisfactory looks so it was extremely hard for her to understand why someone like that would want someone like her.

Because of her inability to grasp the fact that he just loves her for her, she still always has this sense of having to ‘make up’ for the things he did for her.

When he bought her gifts or flowers for seemingly no reason other than ‘trying to see that beautiful smile’, she’d buy him some right back. When he took her out on dates, she’d practically beg to pay or at least let her take him out somewhere better, and when she started to notice how often the other couples she was around would use cute little pet names? She reluctantly followed along in an attempt to be a ‘good’ girlfriend.

The first time she awkwardly called Haru ‘baby’, he looked just as stunned as she did for actually saying that before his face slowly broke out into a grin that stretched from ear to ear and her face slowly deepened in color, but if this was the reaction she’d get every time she used a silly pet name, then maybe it wasn’t too terrible after all…

Miku started using pet names more frequently after that, calling him ‘babe’ or ‘hun’, though the more sweet terms were definitely not her tastes since she felt too mushy saying them, but Haru was very good at filling in the gaps.

Once he realized that she didn’t really mind him returning the favor of using cute nicknames, it was impossible to stop him. ‘Honey’, ‘Baby’, ‘Princess’, ‘Love’, the names were endless and he purposely would pick at the ones that got the deepest blush out of her just to see that uncharacteristically cute look on her face, but the one he found could either turn her into a stuttering mess or make her have him slammed up against a wall in her office in an instant was ‘Bunny’.

He didn’t think much of it when he first used it because he was simply copying it, knowing Hawks used it on her all the time. Considering how annoyed she got when that winged hero used such a name, he knew there was a possibility that using it himself was a bad idea, but he decided to try it out anyways and boy was he happy he did because it was nice to get such a flustered reaction out of someone so naturally stoic. It was easy to say that ‘Bunny’ was very quickly bumped to the top of his list and Miku, poor Miku, was left needing to find a way to make herself feel a little less helpless for her ridiculous, sunshine idiot. 

[lxiewrites]

Petal Soft

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT READ THIS. IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO FUCKING DIE INSIDE DO NOT READ THIS FIC. 

THIS IS YOUR ONE AND ONLY WARNING ONLY MY FRIEND @archaicsextoy IS ALLOWED TO READ THIS BECAUSE THIS IS HER BIRTHDAY FIC AND I’VE ALREADY KILLED TWO FRIENDS AND MYSELF WRITING THIS I DON’T CARE HOW MUCH IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE IN THE END I JUST WANT IT DONE.

They met on the tennis court.

It would have been an adorable meet-cute if Lance actually noticed that he hit Keith in the face with a tennis ball with enough force to shoot his body to the ground and have him practically ricochet around the court. Nope. Lance didn’t even see that he hit him, just picked up his tennis ball to serve, while Keith picked himself back up and went home.

He didn’t think much about the guy that pretty much traumatized him from tennis, maybe the fleeting thought about how handsome he was. Smooth skin that was looked as if kissed by the sun, cornflower blue eyes, and lips that looked petal soft. But, no, Keith had work to do. As a law student he always has work. The small case he took on for experience through his school, helping a small family run business suing a larger company that was stealing their product, did consume a lot of his time. So he had no time to try to flirt with a guy that nearly killed him.

Though, he needed time to clear his head. Staring at the same papers for hours on end trying vainly to find some sort of loophole or small detail that would save his client’s ass can get old after a while. There was something on how taking a walk would help with someone’s creativity so there he his. It was supposed to be relatively short but then there was a raindrop. Then there were two and then three and then it felt like the world was trying to drown him specifically.

Just a few raindrops and he was already soaking. Water pouring from the sky, changing the landscape into something unfamiliar and waterlogged. The dark clouds obscuring the sun until everything looked that much more foreboding, looming over him with malcontent.

Fuck. He’s completely lost.

He tried to retrace his way back to campus and therefore his home but it seemed he went too far or took the wrong turn and now is in a completely unfamiliar neighborhood.

He sighed. For now he just needed to get somewhere warm and dry. So it would be easier for him to move as he tried to find his way back home.

“Hey!” A distantly familiar voice called.  He turned his head to where he thought the sound came from. His eyes widened. It was the guy that hit him in the face at the tennis court.

His companion was holding onto his arm, speaking to him sternly. Keith drifted over a bit to hear what they were saying, he’s fairly certain that the man from the tennis court called him over.

“What are you even talking about?” Keith heard him ask.

His friend heaved a sigh, adjusting his hold on the black umbrella. “Listen, Lance, I’m just saying it’s probably not the best idea to call that…guy, over here. He could hurt you for all we know.”

“Lotor, listen, it’s cold, wet, and rainy. He looks like he’s going to drop at any second. I respect all life and his is no different.”

“But you’r—“

Whatever he was going to say was cut off as Lance jogged his way over, stripping off his jacket to hold over him. “Hey man, you look like you need to take shelter for a while. My flower shop isn’t that far, why don’t we head over.”

Keith stared into his cornflower blue eyes, eyes that took up most of his vision. “S-sure, okay…”  

“Oh! So you can talk!” He smiled sheepishly with a single-shoulder shrug. “Wasn’t exactly sure.”

Keith waved him off with a small smile. “No worries, happens a lot.” Lance smiled at him, bright and blinding, while his friend grumbled as he followed them.

Lance unlocked the door to his shop and the bell chimed as he walked through, holding the door open for him and Lotor. Lotor glowers at him as he passes. Keith returns the look with a stink-eye.

Lotor still giving him a look he turns to Lance. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

Lance rolls his eyes. “I’m fine. It’s seriously no big deal, just go and do whatever.”

Lotor sneers at the little flower shop and Keith especially. “I don’t know why you decided to open up a flower shop of all things. All these bugs, dirt, and bees everywhere.”

“Hey,” Keith protests, “Bees are an important part of the ecosystem. Without them humans wouldn’t have nearly as many crops or flowers.”

Lotor sighs and rolls his eyes dramatically. “Of course you would think so, some no good—“

“Lotor, that’s enough.” Lance interjects. He gestures to Keith, but kept his gaze on Lotor, staring him down. “This is my business and I love it, and, yes, I wouldn’t even have any of these flowers if it weren’t for bees.” He gestures to the door with a tilt of his head, eyes flinty. “You’re tired, why don’t you go home.”

Lotor’s face tightens at the dismissal and without a word leaves with a jingle.

Lance let’s out a breath and runs his hand through his hair. “I hate it when he criticizes my business.” He dropped his hand and smiled at him. “But that’s not your problem. What do you need? Towel? Napkin? Hair dryer?”

Keith shrugs and settles himself on the nearest counter. “I’m fine air drying, your company would be nice though.”

Lance chuckled and hopped up next to him, gently moving a flowering succulent out of the way. “Very smooth, man. Very smooth.”

When he was situated Keith couldn’t help but just… stare. Being so close he could see the various shades of blue in this man’s eyes, the sharp jawline, and the petal softness of his skin that seemed to glow in the soft blue light of the store. Coughing a bit he looked off to the side, staring particularly hard at the pistils of the hibiscus next to him. “So… why is he so…critical of your business?”

Lance merely sighed and shrugged. “I’d chalk it up to overprotectiveness I guess.” He leaned toward him, lowering his voice like he was telling a secret. “I might be a little allergic to bees.”

Keith felt his stomach twist; he looked over at the vast amount of flowers in the little shop. “Oh?”

Lance flapped a hand at him, nearly blowing him over. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I mean, if I don’t bother the bees they won’t bother me right?”

Keith felt his stomach unknot just a little bit. “You’re right, you might even become friends with them.”

“Yeah, and then they might pollinate my flowers and I would have the most beautiful flowers ever!” He raised his arms in a victory stance and tipped back, nearly toppling over to the other side. He wobbled and lurched forward, hunched over with his arms dangling over his knees. “Y’know, if that’s not offensive to the bees,” he said with a teasing smile.

With a half-smile of his own Keith replied, “I think they would understand.”

-

They met up at their normal cafe for their weekly coffee dates. Something just clicked that first night and on-going for a couple of weeks they’d just meet up and talk. They’d share a slice of coffee cake between them and talk about their lives, random things that have happened, and it would occasionally lead to passionate tangents like the one Keith was listening to.

“Flowers are just so great, y’know?”

Keith nodded along, too caught up in Lance’s enthusiasm to really know what he was agreeing to. “Yeah, definitely.”

“I mean,” his hands flopped in the air, as if he could grab his explanation from the air. “They just bring so much color to the world, y’know? They have so many meanings and the right combinations of flowers could mean something perfect.”

“I definitely get you there. Flowers are so needed in the ecosystem, the meanings of them only make them even more beautiful.”

The man beamed at him. “Exactly. Oh, I didn’t ask you, how is your case going?”

“It’s going fine, I think I’m really close to winning. I just have to prove how the larger company stole their stock. I just have to find the smoking gun.” Keith trotted over the napkin to Lance’s watch. “Sorry Lance, I gotta go, it’s almost my shift for the pollen jocks.”

Lance chuckled, “It’s fine, hun.” He waggled his brows at him. “I’d let you pollinate my flower any day.”

Keith’s face flushed as he groaned. He didn’t know whether he wanted to sting the boy or kiss him. He flew up and pecked his soft tulips. Those lips chuckle, “Tastes like honey,” They pucker and peck him back with almost too much force. “See ya, love bug.”

Keith smiled before flying off.

Fuck this I tried.

[sherlockxreader]

30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 22

Day 22: In battle, side by side

Summary: You and Sherlock take care of a teething Rosie together Author: Maddy (@laterthantherabbit) Words: 1750 Characters/Relationships: Sherlock x reader, Rosie x aunty!reader Warning: None

Author’s Notes: After writing with Rosie yesterday I really got into the aunty!reader and sort of parenting trope I did for it. I hope you guys like it!

---------------------------------------------

The wailing had been going on for almost an hour now. Mrs. Hudson was out of the city with Mrs. Turner doing who knows what and Sherlock had a case at the moment and was probably out chasing some madman through the streets of London. John had gone to begrudgingly visit Harry after she rang, asking him to help her move. He wasn’t to be expected back for at least another two days and you volunteered to stay and look after the little Watson, your beautiful niece Rosie. Your beautiful, screaming, red-faced, teething and inconsolable niece. “Rosie dear, look! It’s bee! You want bee?” Rosie threw her arms up above her head and let out an ear-piercing cry. Your calm demeanour from before the crying had slowly been degrading into a near breakdown, your hair frazzled from constant pulling and your cheeks aching from forced smiles to calm Rosie, which were apparently useless.

You picked yourself and then Rosie up  from the ground, bouncing her on your hip to try to sooth her. “I know hun, I know, you miss Daddy. I miss Daddy. If he were here I wouldn’t be exhausted now would I? Would I? No I wouldn’t. Please stop crying now, Rosie dear. Please stop. You’re not hungry. You’re clean and comfy and warm and in pain I know but I’ve given you the medicine Daddy swears works but I don’t think it is, is it honey?” Rosie’s cries continued on for some time, until she tired herself out enough to quiet them into soft whimpers, accompanied by fat tears which rolled down her cheeks.

You kept muttering nonsensical phrases, which seemed to be the only thing that distracted her, and looked towards the clock. 8:47pm. “Look at that, it’s way past your bedtime again munchkin. Thank God you’re finally tired. Let’s put you to bed hm? Put you in your nice and cosy bed? Yes I think we should.” You walked up the stairs to John’s room where Rosie’s bassinet was and put Rosie into the plush bedding, wrapping the fuzzy blanket over her small body, now asleep in a fitful rest. You sighed as you crept out of the room, making sure to make as little noise as possible.

When you got back into the living room you flopped onto the couch, determined to sleep before Rosie’s next feeding and inevitable wailing. You had just about dozed off when the door slammed open with force and a tornado whirled into the living room. You jumped up and looked around, frantic and irritable from being awoken so abruptly. You saw that the tornado was in fact Sherlock, high on adrenaline from the chase he had so obviously just had. He whipped off his scarf and coat with what you thought was an obscene amount of noise and he stomped around the living room, prattling on about the case before you could scold him for not thinking before creating a ruckus in the middle of the night.

“You wouldn’t believe it Y/N! The case was thrilling and-” His sentence was cut off by the banshee you called niece. “Oh right. Rosie. Y/N, are you okay?” You swore you could feel your eye twitching as you glared venomously at Sherlock. He at least had the sense to look ashamed at you as you stood and retrieved Rosie, not even ten minutes into your nap. You came back down the stairs to see Sherlock on his chair, probably organising the case into his Mind Palace, ignoring the screams Rosie was casting his way. You cleared your throat to make him open his eyes before handing him the once again screaming toddler. Sherlock opened his mouth to protest but you cut him off with a glare and a finger pointed at his chest, which poked repeatedly whilst you lectured him. “I am having a shower. You are going to try to get her to sleep again as I have just been doing so for the past hour and a bit before you ruined it all with your flouncing. You are also going to make tea when the kettles done because I am tired and it looks like neither of us are sleeping much tonight. Are we clear?” You dangerous tone and poking caused him to shy away from you, further into his chair cradling Rosie in his arms.

“Yes Y/N.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” You turned on your heel and left for the bathroom, shutting the door before leaning on it and scrubbing your face with your hands, as if to wipe away the exhaustion that had built up over the hour of Rosie’s crying. You shook your head and turned on the shower, drowning out Rosie’s insistent screaming considerable and finally giving you some time for yourself.

You weren’t so cold all the time, just when you were tired, and the shower had helped to wake you up some. When you came out a few minutes later, clad in your cosy pyjamas and a pair of slippers, you came to regret snapping at Sherlock like you had done. You couldn’t hear the screams of Rosie but you could hear her whimpering and Sherlock’s muttering, just as you had done not half an hour earlier. You walked into the room and saw Sherlock swaying Rosie side to side, lulling her into another fitful sleep. You went up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, swaying with him as his mumbling stopped. “I’m sorry I snapped.”

“I should be the one who’s sorry. I forgot Rosie hadn’t been going to bed cooperatively once she began teething.”

“Yeah still, sorry.” You kissed his shoulder blade and nuzzled your head into his back.

“I made tea.” You laughed as you let Sherlock go and looked around the room, finding a pot of tea, milk, sugar and even biscuits on a tray between John and Sherlock’s chair. You patted Sherlock’s back and sat in John’s chair to pour two cups.

“Thanks Sher. Go put Rosie to bed. Hopefully she will sleep for a couple of hours before she wakes again.” You put milk and sugar into both of the cups as Sherlock walked past you to the stairs, placing a kiss on your head before he left the room. You smiled as you heard him continue talking to Rosie in hushed tones. You were sipping your tea when Sherlock came back down, his high from the case now gone from having to deal with Rosie for a few minutes. He sat in his chair and began to sip at his cooling tea and you sighed, the quiet of the flat calming you but. “You want to tell me about the case?”

“I thought you were going to sleep until Rosie woke again.”

“Well I was until you barged in here and woke me and now I’m curious. It seemed like a good one.” Sherlock’s eyes lit up and he began to talk rapidly about the murderer he had chased and about the scene itself, which was unique due to the unusual blood splatters. You listened to him talk for an hour, a content smile on your face and your eyes droopy. You hand just stood to check on Rosie before heading to bed when the cacophony began again. Rosie’s shrill cry burst from the room upstairs and your smile dropped into a pout. You groaned and put you head in your hands, taking deep breaths to keep tired tears at bay. “Arrggh…” You rubbed your eyes and began to make your way upstairs when Sherlock put a hand on your shoulder.

“You should go and try to sleep. You’ve had Rosie all day.”

“No it’s okay. You helped her last time. I’ll get her.” You shrugged him off and went upstairs where the noises grew in volume. You went into the room and saw Rosie crying in her crib. “Aww honey it's okay. I'm here. I know, I know it hurts. Come on.” You picked her up and took her downstairs, preparing yourself for the task of gathering her pain medicine with one hand when Sherlock came and stood in front of you, the little dropper in his hand and the liquid already measured to the millimetre. “Oh Sherlock, thanks so much. Do you think-”

“I'll get her to take it Y/N. Just hold her steady.” You nodded and cooed at Rosie to try and get her to calm down enough to take her medicine, knowing that she would be frustrated with both you and Sherlock after taking it.

Sure enough, when the bitter mixture was tasted and swallowed, Rosie's face morphed into disgust and then fury and she let out a pain filled yell. “Oh honey I know, it's okay. How about a bottle, hm? Yes, we'll get your bottle sorted. That sounds nice doesn’t it?” You smiled at Rosie as her yells turned into whimpers at the mention of the bottle. You went to step into the kitchen however Sherlock was back with a warm bottle for Rosie, having had it already prepared for when you came down with her. She took it with tears and became quiet immediately when she began to drink. You chuckled and looked from Rosie to Sherlock, who was looking at Rosie with adoration. “Thanks so much Sherlock. You’re really good with her you know?”

“Not as good as you.” You scoffed and shook your head, turning back to Rosie who was almost finished with her bottle.

“It took me an hour to get her to sleep and it takes you ten minutes. I think you’re better.” He smiled and looked to you, coming closer to hug you from the side and look down at Rosie alongside you, who was just about finished now, and with the medicine kicking in along with her fatigued body, was becoming sleepy. You took the bottle from her hands and swayed from side to side, rocking her to sleep.

“We’re better together though, aren’t we.” You smiled softly and looked back to Sherlock, meeting his eyes which were crinkled at the sides as he smiled fondly at the domesticity you two were in.

“We are.” You smile grew as Sherlock stooped down to kiss you softly, swaying along with you as you continued to rock with Rosie. You went and placed Rosie back into bed before heading to yours with Sherlock in tow. You two burrowed under the covers and huddled together contently, falling into sleep soon after, ready to face the next feeding and tantrum together, side by side.