#i love making them even tinier than they already are

[collectorcookie]

more people need to draw them in these outfits honestly

[sysig]

You’ve caught my Wandering Eye ♥ (Patreon)

[annebd]

have you ever written a thing and had no idea where it was gonna go because you didn’t actually have a plan and then you were somehow still surprised (but pleasantly) at where it ended up anyway? yeah, me too. this is super short, just a little slice-of-life domestic maxiel moment.

They’re at the farm in Perth, nowhere to be and nothing to do for ten full days before they have to head back to Milton Keynes for the start of testing. They spend the first night sitting on the back porch, sharing a frankly terrible delivery pizza and a bottle of Daniel’s shiraz- out of disposable paper cups because Daniel can’t be bothered to unearth his actual wine glasses and because Max always claims the taste is the same as in proper glass anyway. They go to bed early, too jet lagged to do anything more than share a kiss goodnight and cuddle together under the quilt that Daniel’s nonna had given him when he’d first moved to Italy- a small reminder of home. Nowadays, the quilt stays on the farm, a reminder that this, actually, is home.

In the morning, Daniel awakens to a streak of sunlight shining brightly across his face. The quilt is thrown haphazardly across the foot of the bed, kicked off during the night as the warmth of the Australian summer melted across them in sleep. He stretches big and yawns, scratching lightly at the peach fuzz on his lower belly that he’s finally allowing to grow back in. The giant antique clock on the wall across from the window (his mum had made him buy it- said he needed some kind of interior decoration in his place, and Buffalo Bills merch emblazoned with Josh Allen’s name didn’t count) tells him that it’s just after ten. He reaches out a hand: the other side of the bed feels cool- Max must have been up for a while already.

With a groan, and a refusal to acknowledge that hopping out of bed at 35 involves much more moaning and creaking knees than it did at 22, Daniel gets up and stumbles his way towards the living room. He follows the faint sound of Dutch cursing and an even fainter whiff of coffee. Max hates coffee- says it makes him gag- but whenever he’s up first, he makes Daniel a cup exactly the way he likes it, with the tiniest splash of creamer and an even tinier bit of sugar.

He rounds the corner to the living room and sees the source of the cursing. Max has set up his Playstation and is in the middle of a FIFA match.

“Honestly, Daniel, they’re terrible. Look at this,” Max says crossly, waving his hand at the TV in a gesture that Daniel takes to be an all encompassing indicator of terribleness. “How can they be so bad?”

He’s not even looking in Daniel’s direction; the sofa faces away from the passageway to the back of the house. It’s one of the things Daniel loves about him. Max doesn’t need any preamble to a conversation. He knows that if he starts, Daniel will simply catch up.

Daniel shrugs, climbs over the back of the sofa to plop comfortably next to Max. “Dunno, Maxy. Can’t all be rockstars like you.”

Max glances at him quickly, a small frown in his brow as he assesses in an instant whether he thinks Daniel is teasing him, warring with a smile at the inherent compliment anyway. “Yeah, well, of course it takes lots of practice. Maybe they are just not putting in the time.”

“Maybe so,” Daniel agrees. He leans over to grab the cup of coffee that Max had made for him and takes a sip- perfect as always. He sinks a bit lower into the couch, getting comfortable. “Any plans for the day? Other than kicking some randos' arses in FIFA?”

“I though that we could—” Max cuts himself off to interject a string of cursing in Dutch as his player onscreen clearly does something other than what he’d intended. He mashes at the controller furiously, and a moment later, Daniel sees the screen light up with a goal. Max nods, satisfied, and continues “maybe invite Isaac and Isabella to spend the day here. Always, you’re talking about wanting to take them out on the dirt bikes. We can do that together.”

Daniel nods. “Sounds good. I’ll give Michelle a call- maybe we can swing by and pick them up. Say hi to Mum and Dad on the way.”

Max is already absorbed back into his game, but when Daniel stands to go grab his phone (slightly less groaning as he stands from the couch, no less knee creaking), Max reaches out a quick hand to squeeze his thigh gently. “Good morning, by the way.”

Daniel smiles. “Good morning, baby,” he says, and leans over to peck Max lightly on the lips.

[white-poppie]

MSBY! Thirst tweets

A/N: The way I had to search up thirst tweets because I have no idea how people write things on twitter, the mildest ones are the ones I wrote- I am shook. (Not me using the Bangchan meme for Hinata."

Try to guess which ones I wrote ;)

𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀

"Hello, this is Atsumu Miya from MSBY black jackals and m' reacting to thirst tweets!" the faux blonde grinned happily.

"Are you on twitter, Miya-san?"

"I used to be, but then I deleted it, it's a scary place," the man shudders exaggeratedly, clutching the fish bowl with paper scraps closer to him.

Carefully he takes out one piece and unfolding it, head tilting in delight at the question.

"I want Atsumu Miya to crush my skull between his massive thighs."

A cocky grin made its way onto his face, he slaps his thigh, looking straight at the camera, "As much as I would love to indulge in fan service, I don't wanna be charged for man-slaughter"

He laughs and throws the scrap of paper on the floor, fishing for another.

"I want a piece of that cake Atsumu carries everyday"

A snort leaves Atsumu's mouth after reading, "Y'all need to chill, seriously."

Taking another piece of paper out, Atsumu read.

"Fuck Daddy-Issues or Mommy-issues, my only issue is, not having Atsumu Miya in my arms right now!"

"Awww, this one is so cute man," he grins, "thank you 'Mrs.Miya49. By your username, it seems as if you have already claimed me though," he says with a wink.

"Alright this is the last one," he says and speakes in an exaggeratedly British accent.

"Atsumu Miya is the most gorgeous man I have ever seen, my ovaries are ready to produce Miya 3.0. thank you very much."

"Holy shit," he gasps, "I am so flattered that you think I am gorgeous, but I think you should contact my twin for Miya 3.0, though. He is more of a family guy than I am," he says and pauses, "for now at-least," he winks.

"I might re-download Twitter to reply to you guys now."'

𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎

"Hey, this is Bokuto Koutaro from MSBY black jackals and today I am reacting to thirst tweets with puppies."

Bokuto cackles while sitting on the floor, as majestic tiny creatures step out of a wooden crate, "great, now I am not going to get any work done"

He scratches gently behind a brown one's ear, his large hand making the puppy seem even tinier. One of them struggles to climb on Bokuto's lap. He gently places him on his crisscrossed legs and canine soon nuzzles in. While one puppy minds his own business biting Kou's shoes.

"Oh hey buddy, that's not nice," he gently pushes the puppy away with his pointer finger, which only spites the tiny fiend more.

"Right, I won't get distracted now, I can see the director glaring," he laughs while petting the puppy nestled in his lap, peacefully.

"Bokuto Koutaro is what SZA had in mind when she wrote 'big-boy'. This man DESTROY me, manhandle me, tear me apart. I would have no regrets."

Bokuto blinks rapidly as if trying to process the info, "wow-uhm you guys are violent, but yeah I have heard that song, but it never crossed my mind even once."

Bokuto pouts at the puppy, chewing the laces of his branded shoes, away so that the camera can't see, "I should cover your ears, eh?"

"I want to be crushed by Bokuto, this man can throw me over his shoulder like a potato sack, please please please."

"I mean if you are asking so nicely, I'll throw you over my shoulder; no crushing though, I like my fans uncrushed!" he laughs boisterously.

"I wanna lick the sweat off Koutarou's abs, bet it's the sweetest thing ever."

Bokuto scrunches his face in disgust, "Gross, I mean of that's what you are into- but I beg you please reconsider, that's very unhygienic," he says while kissing the pup's head with a loud 'mwah', "Sakusa would have had a breakdown just reading this."

"Wanna bite Bokuto's man-tiddies nom nom nom, wanna mark him all up"

Bokuto blinks aggressively looking at the camera in a way that would be used by his fans as a meme reaction for months to come, "Is this Atsumu? I bet it was Atsumu tweeting this. That guy always calls his abs man-tiddies."

Bokuto pouts sadly as the staff takes the puppies away, "This was Bokuto Koutaro from MSBY Black Jackals, reading thirst tweets with puppies. Send more of these guys so I can come and play the pups!"

𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐘𝐎

"Hello folks! This is Hinata Shoyo from MSBY Black Jackals and today I am reacting to thirst tweets!" the tangerine haired-boy said excitedly as rubber his palms together in delight.

In his muscular arms, he holds the phone the staff gave him and reads the first tweet.

Hinata Shoyo has such a big leap, like a rabbit, jsksjksjk he the cutest

Hinata giggles at the comparison, "I have been called a lot of things in life, rabbit has to be the first, I like it!"

He glances at the tweet again, "You know what else is big ?" he pauses looking down at his legs, "My...uh feet! My feet!" he quickly averts the topic after he earns a glare from the manager.

Research shows that if you are scared of spiders, you are likely to find them in your room...ooo I am so scared of Hinata Shoyo. It would be soooo scary if he climbed into my bed at night~

Hinata laughs loudly, licking his lips, "You guys are so creative, how do you even think of these things?"

Hinata shakes his head, smiling as he scrolls on

I want Hinata Shoyo to [redacted] me [redacted] and [redacted] my guts while whispering [redacted] into my ear.

"Did- did you just physically type out redacted-" Hinata says with his mouth open in shock, "it can be interpreted in many ways you know?"

"It can be I want Hinata Shoyo to call me tonight and operate my guts while whispering 'touch some grass' in my ear" He shrugs his shoulders, "Not so thirsty now."

Looking at Hinata should be illegal, I saw one of his games and now I got pregnant. Who is going to take the responsibility now @msbyblackjackals.official ? Huh? Huh??

"BAHAHAH you even tagged the official account" he laughs, wiping the tears from his eyes, "please let me know the update on the child, I will take responsibility."

"This was Hinata Shoyo from MSBY reading thirst tweets, thank you for all the sweet and thirsty comments, appreciate them equally"

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈

"Do I really have to do this?" he mutters hesitant, looking at the rolling camera.

"Yes Sakusa-san, everyone from the team is doing this."

"Fine," he sighs, "this is Sakusa Kiyoomi from MSBY black jackals and I am reacting to thirst tweets."

He hesitantly reads the first question displayed on the screen

I want Sakusa to chew on my head like a bubblegum.

Sakusa looks at the camera with a disgusted expression, "no."

Omi is the man of my dreams, a knight in shining armour, rose petals and shit. I want him to rail the life out of me.

Sakusa sighs and lets out a small hum of acknowledgement, "This one isn't that bad. Flattered to hear that I am the man of your dreams, darling."

Not to be all NSFW and shit, but I wanna like...hold hands with Sakusa... >_<

Sakusa chortles at the message, "you got me scared there for a second. Sorry, I am not really good with physical contact and stuff, but this was sweet."

Sakusa's pretty and veiny hands with long fingers bark bark bark!! I wanna be a mosquito and suck the blood out of those veins nom nom; use them as a necklace and stuff.

"Very...specific fetishes you people have," he looks down at his hands, "no hand necklaces for you." he grins and flexes the veins on his hands, "Not until you ask nicely for it~."

"This was Sakusa Kiyoomi, reading thirst tweets. You guys need therapy and I am more than ready to pay for it."

"Oo Sugar Daddy Vibes," the production crew laughs.

"Remind me to never do this again."

- HAIKYU!! - Fanfictions

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[darkdemeter]

READER AND DEATH "BEING PARENTS" FOR 1.3K WORDS

Death x (GN/)Female Reader

Uhm what do I say about this piece? Idfk. Figured I should stop writing it where it was before it got outta hand. Teacher this is my assignment. (Dunno if I'm gonna continue writing this idea or delete it and watch it burn in a dumpster fire while I sip coffee).

WARNINGS...?

AAAAAAHAHAHA! I intended it to be a cute, fluffy and funny drabble thing but I don't even know at this point.

“No.”

“Yes,” Death answers simply. 

You heave up with a grunt, the weight shocking you given how Fury is the size of a toddler, her features shrunken except the eyes that remain as large, milky white orbs. Her lips screw into something of a pout. You see her fiery temper is trapped inside her tinier body. Placing her down and gasping, you reach for Strife who’s hands clench and open, a grumbling whine escaping him.

 No way this happened. 

“How?” you ask, mouth agape and contorted into a troubled, confused frown. “Strife, say something! Anything!” He only babbles something between an infant’s prattle and some otherworldly language. Your features smoothen out into an unamused purse of your lips. Your eyes fixate on Death who harbours the third of his siblings, who for a raging machine of pain and chaos, is surprisingly subdued while sat atop the eldest Horseman’s shoulders, hands clasping ahold of Death’s raven locks. 

As it turns out, Vulgrim the Soul Eater possesses a variety of interesting artefacts. Death’s account is that said powerful manifestation which the Horsemen were tasked in retrieving for the demon trader, the gem had combusted after misuse and his three younger siblings were incidentally turned into… Well, babies. 

You set Strife back to ground level, your mind too far gone into a spiral to notice the pitter-patter of footprints rush off. Death bends down to do the same for War. “I thought you would have some clue as to what to do with them, since humans have a child-rearing nature.”

“Me? You’re older than me by millions of years. Really you’d have a better idea!” you hiss back, tempting fate as you jab a finger at the pale rider’s chest. 

Death’s comeback comes as a sharpened growl, “I never sired any offspring!”

Unsure whether the flush that invades your system belongs to your bafflement to such a confession, or that fact that you teeter to-and-fro on the fine line between a school girl crush and pure hearted love for the rider before you. 

With a defeated huff, you turn on your heel and Death steps forward, his arm just barely grazing against yours as you both now set your attention to the other three riders who now have free roam of your home. 

“Do we know how long it’ll last?” you ask the eldest nephilim as you scratch at the back of your head. He gives a low and long sigh, his shoulders falling and his posture pushing forward that little bit more, but continues to tower over you quite a bit. 

“I’m not sure…”

Before you is the second apocalypse in the making, with three little terrors to pin the crime on. The little rascals were tearing your lounge room apart by the minute and all you could do was watch, and all Death could do was obviously let your nurturing instincts take over. After all, he didn’t have children of his own back in his day. So of course it was a battle of shifting the responsibility onto each other as you both danced around, keeping the rambunctious three out of trouble and from destroying everything in their wake. 

“No Strife, you can’t eat that,” you scold firmly and endure a game of tug-of-war that you refuse to admit losing, with Strife even as the size of a toddler but the age of a year old baby, he is still overwhelmingly strong. 

“Are— all— Nephilim babies this— strong?” you heavily pant between each yank and stretch shared between you and Strife who laughs at your expense. You feel the muscles in your arms tire already but eventually you manage to snatch the stool from him, the legs marked with deeply embedded teeth marks. 

“Quite so.”

So there was some form of child rearing with their race. Death has never been that forward with the history of his people, and you didn’t feel it was your place to push. But it brought an interesting thought to the forefront.

Before the spike-haired nephilim can start a tantrum, you take Strife up and into your arms, his hands immediately seeking out to grab your hair. Meanwhile, Death holds a very temperamental Fury by the scruff of her neck, his amber eyes narrowed thinly as he rasps a curt, deep-noted, “No.”

Her small fists punch and swing no to avail, babbling something in a tongue you can barely comprehend and pure infant prattle. 

Death remains largely unphased as War thunders towards him in a short sprint, head and shoulders arched forward and rutting his head into his brother’s leg with a shrieking battle cry. With his other hand he does the same to War, holding the siblings that now enact their annoyance onto each other, what with the lack of Death’s engagement to their fight. 

You’re struggling to even balance upright with Strife attempting to crawl over your shoulder, his overbearing weight threatens to crush you where you stand. 

“Not so easy to deal with now, is he?”

“Shush, let me think.”

Death only chuckles in reply, the sound a crawling timbre you avoid paying any further attention to unless you wish to cave to your feelings right there and then. 

You tap a finger to your chin as you ponder the next several steps, in which Death sparingly sneaks glances of your focused gaze, you put Strife down and sternly tell him to stay put before moving away to some hidden portion of the house to come back with a something the pale nephilim can only assume to be a torture device. 

And he thought you were incapable of sheer cruelty up to this point. 

“I used to take care of puppy litters for friends. This,” you pause as you set up the makeshift area, “will keep them in one place.” 

Turning towards Death, you can only assume he’s raising a brow at the contraption. “A cage?”

“Sorta… it’s just somewhere we usually place pets – or misbehaving children!”

Your tone rises louder as you make direct eye contact with Fury and Strife, who attempt to fight one another, with War merely dangingling in Death’s grip. How he carries them with no sweat to his brow, you hardly understand. You chalk it up to his inhuman strength. 

Now to get the three into the playpen. Death was secure in his role, easily dropping War and Fury in with no problem. It’s you who suffered with Strife making a beeline out of the lounge. For a baby of superhuman strength, he also possessed his supernatural speed as well. 

And so, Death was treated to the sight of you chasing around an infant, his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilting every so often in the direction that followed you both. 

But his entertainment had to be brought to its conclusion, seeing that you’re faring unwell, he conducts his mannerism with a touch of sympathy and snatches Strife as he makes to sprint past. The young thing is spiteful for this betrayal, hissing like some beast cub and babbling again in that foreign tongue, Death casts Strife into the playpen with his siblings. 

“Took your sweet time, didn’t you?” you bitterly scowl with a glare, approaching the pen with waning breath. 

Death’s large shoulders move up into a shrug. “Think of it as a debt repaid for all the times we were chasing you around.”

Your bottom lip sinks inwards, your teeth biting down upon the lump of flesh. The amount of times you inherently wandered and ran off while under their care had indeed written a long overdue receipt. 

“Humans are curious and all that,” you mumble more to yourself as if it would serve as some form of justification but Death can only scoff at your so-called reasoning, no doubt rolling his eyes. 

“So what now?”

“I guess we have to wait it out.”

[cupiohearts]

DONT DISTURB THE DEAD ?! - gun, dg, goo with came back from the dead! s/o (gn)

a/n : THE WOMAN, THE MAN THEMSELF IS BACK

you were someone so memorable to GUN. he hadnt realized back then how much he loved but once you had left it was like a piece of him had just vanished. your reappearance felt like ascension.

gun admired you from the very beginning. in fact your fighting prowess was the entire reason you got scouted in the first place. it was unfortunate that you left them all behind. he grieved for months.

at first he was unsure what he felt in the first place. the reason why everytime he went out for a smoke, he recalled every moment when you would take it out of his mouth and stomp it. telling him he would die early and he would banter back and say that he already would.

he missed the small chuckles whenever you got drunk and would tell him an embarassing memory of when you were younger.

so when he saw you again all of his months in confusion had left him a final answer. he loved you.

you were different from back then (of course so it's been 5 years). you were more confident then back then, your face got more matured over the years and you wore a stoic look.

but he could still tell that it was you. the way that you had widened your eyes upon seeing him, he could find himself staring at every feature of you that he oh so dearly missed.

"i found you again..." the end of his words were let out breathlessly. the tension was heavy and you both stood there waiting for another word.

he found himself waiting for another word to hear what the sound of his future would be.

but for now he could deal with the talking stage. maybe he can once again earn all of your love and maybe he might become your man.

GOO was an eccentric person to day the least. you were once his right hand in command, following him everywhere like a baby duck. the most unfortunate part of that tale was that baby ducks get lost easily.

heavy breath filled the air, you heaved in everything you could. eyes were bloodshot as you went on the adrenaline all that was in your mind was keep running and dont stop.

you couldnt even hear anyone behind you, rushing past a group of people that opened up a path for you. in your mind it went into your old instinct where it said to find goo.

you missed him dearly, he probably did too. after being trapped inside a dungeon hell, you knew you needed to find him. your instinct had also told you that he would be there for you. it was never wrong.

"y/n?!"

a familar voice ringed in your ear. it made you stop running and look around. to search for the familar face before you caught him. he spotted you and hugged you so tight you couldnt breath, but you didnt want to let go even if it killed you.

you missed his loud laughs, you missed being able to make snarky comments at his frankly dumb ones. he was what you needed most.

the hug went on for so long. you released yourself from his grasps and took a look at his face.

"thank you for being here"

DG liked to say that he was a professional man and that he would never ever fall in love. or atleast thats what he would like to believe is the image of himself. falling in love with you was the best and worst thing to happen to him.

his mind was forever haunted by the memory of your face when you fell. your face looked haunted, the wind blew all the hair in front of your face and you fell. he didn't know what happened next, all that he could remember was screaming when he saw your body become tinier and tinier with a splash into the cold ocean.

for the next month he was traumatized by your face. lashing out at anyone who mentioned your name. overtime he gradually begun to accept that your were gone, the sleepless nights wondering if you were alive were all merely delusions.

but this- this couldnt be procured from his mind.

the image of you looked older than the one you originally had when you were younger. in all of his hallucinations of you, you looked the same as you were younger.

slowly he reached his hand to feel your skin. it was warm and lifelike. your eyes flickered up to his and with a smile you said "im back"

a tight hug on you had ended your sentence and you smiled in his arms. "its alright, i'm back" you patted his back. dg couldn't respond to you but he forever remembered your picture.

he didnt care how you survived, because youre here now. you were here now and it might be selfish of him to say but he wanted to keep you here forever.

"dont leave me again please" you laughed at this and nodded. tracing the words.

i will love you forever.

[oh-no-its-bird]

reading ur fic one step three steps rn and I don't usually read oc-insert fics but ichigo is SUCH a menace I love her to death... and the idea of this feral, unchecked little kid being put in kakashi's care is so good. he's gonna suffer so much but it'll be good for him I think 👍 anyway I can't help but wonder how things would go down with the whole. obito thing. because I can't help making everything about my favorite insane guy. do you think they'd bond over their love for making kakashi suffer. do you think they'd bond over their shared affinity for chaos. I don't know I just!! think they have so much potential as a duo ANYWAY sorry for rambling have a nice day

DJFBDKDJDJS IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE HER???

I'm also kind of in the boat of not especially liking or reading oc centered fics, I think making Ichigo was a bit easier for me than it would have been otherwise bc I really went into it treating her like a plot divice. Still am tbh. I love Ichigo but the story isn't there for her, it's there bc of her. I needed someone to stir shit up and bring up some very specific topics and issues, so she became that. And I fell a little in love with her character along the way

Inevitable tbh, it's probably impossible to write a character that much without finding or molding them into something you can like writing

Kakashi absoloutley deserves to be harassed by tiny children, and now he can't escape bc Ichigo is in his fucking house!! She's gonna bring back more (even tinier) children to harass him, starting with Naruto. He will never know peace.

ITS FUNNY YOU MENTION OBITO BC I ACTUALLY HAVE ALREADY WRITTEN SOME STUFF FOR HIM IN THE FUTURE WHENEVER HES INTRODUCED!!

I have so many notes and plans laid out for One Step Three Steps u don't even know

Anyways spoilers for the eventually Obito introduction in the fic, take a snippet for his introduction (it's liable to change tho, we won't be seeing Obito for a while in the fic)

"I . . . am Madara Uchiha."

Ichigo opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Finally, in her flattest voice, she went, "No you're not."

The imposter paused, then shook his head and gave a sinister chuckle. It was a decent enough imitation but she'd seen Hashirama give a better Madara impression.

While drunk.

"I understand it's hard for you to believe, but the stories of my death were greatly exaggerated."

Ichigo aimed her best impression of Ojisan's unimpressed face at him. Lip curled in distaste and head tilted to stare down at him like he was a bug.

He twitched. It was a pretty good impression. (Better than his Madara one, anyways)

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No. You're really not."

"Yes, I really am."

They stared at eachother, locked in stalemate, till she smirked.

"Ok sure, you're Madara-sama. What's my name then?"

"Um."

"Come on, Dara-chan," she batted her eyes at him innocently. "I'm sure you can remember."

He seemed to regain control of myself, straightening up and giving another echo of what might have been Madara's laugh. If he was a crazy cave hermit who'd decided to inject a gallon of cringe fail evil villain juice into his laughter, anyways.

"Come now, Ichigo, I know it's hard to believe but it really is me."

"Ha!" She shoved her hand towards him, pointing triumphantly. "My real name is Hatake Miko! I gave them a fake when I got here, and if you were the real Madara-sama you'd know that!"

"O-of course, Miko-chan, I was just testing you. I had to be sure you were the real Miko I remembered, after all."

"No, I lied I really am Ichigo." She deadpanned, giving him a little peace sign.

He staggered under some invisible weight, making a noise like a popped balloon.

"I don't usually kill children, but . . ." He mumbled to himself, and she scoffed.

"You don't even have his hair." She squinted at him, feeling insulted om Madara's behalf. "You're pretending to be Madara with hair like that? Have some standards.

[azuresky-agere]

THE ULTIMATE AGERE!VENTI HEADCANON POST!

yeah im not sane about him :3

"It's stopped raining already? A shame, I wanted to play some more."

CW: Diapers, nightmares,

─ 𖥔 ─

-Venti's first experience with age regression was rather odd, in that he didn't KNOW what age regression was- nor did he know how to partake in "acting like a child" until he was forced into his headspace during a rainy night at Angel's Share - it started to thunder, and Venti just...dropped like a penny. Luckily, Diluc was a saviour and brought him upstairs to calm him down.

-headspace is around 0-3 years old.

-Due to past injuries from around the Archon War, he needs to be padded 24/7, and will usually gravitate to pull-ups, and will use diapers when regressed!

-He's just an actual baby. He'll either crawl around, or whine and tug at his caregiver until he's scooped up.

-He's just a TOTAL mama's boy, especially for Adelinde! If Diluc's not around/busy, Venti will "help" around Adelinde.

-Adelinde knows that he's the Anemo Archon, as well as his identity being the first thing told to any new caregivers/babysitters, so nightmares and thunderstorms are usually pretty understood.

-Despite hating thunder, he LOVES the rain, and will practically beg his current caregiver to go and splash about. He understands if they say no, however.

-He just...needs to be held. He loves it when a caregiver will boop his nose, or feed him, or care for him if he falls ill- it makes him feel like an actual infant, and therefore more regressed.

-As mentioned before, nightmares are VERY common. He has a few stuffies to help, though! An otter, dubbed "wisp" which was gifted to him from the traveller (who, yes, knows about his headspace- and was the first person he told that wasn't Diluc) as well as a bird stuffie, named "Himmel" and a cat stuffie called "Katze".

-A sucker for apples- even more so when he's little. He'll request them to be cut into cute little shapes, and served with a small container of applesauce to dip into (which he always gets). Despite his love for apples, he despises applejuice, and despite his hate for cheese, loves warm milk.

-An easy way to help him regress is getting him all cozy into (insert cg) arms and just baby him. phrases like "augh, you're just too tiny tonight" and "who's this little baby?" will usually do the trick.

-Despite him literally being the god of Anemo, he'll give his CG his vision, despite it being a fake, as it helps him feel a bit tinier- as well as his bow, and lyre.

-Pacifiers over teethers. The idea of a teether sounds nice, but he didn't really like it, and pacifiers help him feel way more infant-like.

-Can solve puzzles for HOURS.

-Will usually draw pictures of him and his cg, and he's always happy to see them on the fridge.

-Main CG'S:

-Diluc

-Aether/Paimon

-Jean

-Barbara (Although she's more than a babysitter- and yes, she knows of his identity, and is sworn to secrecy)

-Lisa

-Dvalin (Either in his human form, or his dragon form- either works for Venti!)

-Andrus (very rarely).

-Nahida! (Again, very rarely, and mostly she's a CG in his dreams, especially if he's having a nightmare).

Main Nightmares:

-Old Mondstadt's Rebellion (and losing his dear friends in the process)

-Being hurt/stolen from Signora again.

-Old Mondstadt in general- it was from a very fresh point in his life, and was one of his first experiences with people, so he's mostly always dreaming about it.

-Traveller/any of his friends/cg's getting hurt.

[golden-explosions-main]

"Howdy, you already know who I am, so let's stop wasting time and get going," 🌻🎸🌟

(About/Rules below👇)

About: Welcome to Flowey's ask blog! It's a funny thing though, he usually has Frisk (his best friend) by his side when he answers questions, perhaps he feels more comfortable with them by his side? Or perhaps he just needs help with dealing with some the crazier stuff that happens time to time.

They live on the surface together, and both Asgore and Toriel are still divorced but both have shared custody, the teens switch houses every month or so.

Flowey used to go to public school alongside Frisk, but that only lasted nearly three years until a 'bully revenge incident' at 12 years old that got him permanently expelled, ever since then, his mother has been home-schooling him.

At 14 years old, after a very late visit to Alphy's office, he found out that he somehow got his soul back, however it's tinier than it used to be and malformed and lopsided, it also causes him a great deal of physical pain when he experiences strong emotions, he rarely complains though, at least not on the blog.

Proof of said soul. 👇🏻

At 15, he received what they ended up calling a potbot! (created by Alphys) It's a flower pot, but it gives him height, moves around, and has hands! It's not as great as a real body, but it's almost as great. Annnd...not long after that, he lost it in a river and nearly drowned, BUT, after a few months, Alphys gifted him a better one, and it's the one he still uses now. The potbot! (I'm really proud of this thing) 👇🏻

At 16, an Anon temporarily gave Chara their body back and it was revealed that not only has Chara been following their brother for years, but they were also the one responsible for returning his soul to him. They've been keeping in contact as best as they could ever since then.

Also at 16, Flowey and Frisk met a haunted creature who they call ??? or the Doctor (created by Complex) an Amalgamate from another timeline. The Doctor is a powerful mad scientist, who had long ago done something unspeakable which resulted in them being an Amalgamation (there have been several big hints as to who they may be), they have been keeping in contact with both of Flowey and Frisk ever since their introduction, donating their burned black book to Frisk, watching the two teen's lives from afar, the Doctor also seems to have VERY big plans for Suzy (from Undertale and not quite Deltarune(?)

Due to his anxiety, depression, self-hatred and trauma from his childhood and from being a literal soulless murderer, Flowey struggles to make plans for his future, but the love from the people in his life and his hobbies keep him afloat day by day.

Fun fact: Flowey has a surprisingly good relationship with his parents and even more so with his father.

Fun fact 2: He considers Frisk, Chara, Papyrus, and Monster Kid his best friends, with Frisk being his Number One Best Friend Who Is Alive. And being Chara is his Number One Best Friend Who Is Undead.

Most important fact: They live the Sunshine Route timeline or the Sunshine Route AU, it was born from my fanfic series, Growing Pains, which is where the Frisk, Flowey, and River Person blogs are very loosely based on.

---

Rules:

🌻Aside from the occasional swearing and harsh language, I consider this blog to be...fairly SFW, and I'd very much prefer to keep it that way, I'll let you know if I don't like something.

🌻Flowey is very protective of his timeline, he considers himself lucky, so if it or his loved ones are threatened in anyway, he will make threats and be very mean, his bark can be just as bad as his bite, so be careful if you're sensitive to that sort of thing.

🌻I usually prefer to keep things simple for my sanity; and prefer to have the role plays be one on one, so unless you have a very good idea or want to do something helpful, please don't ask to join.

🌻PLEASE DO NOT reply by reblogging, I often go back into my blog's archives to look for past posts, and responding by reblogging makes navigating things difficult and it can also clog other people's dashes.

🌻I also prefer to keep things light and funny, something to cheer myself and others up, but I'll allow depressing and dark things to happen if it's well written.

That's it, have a good one!

[annabelle-creart]

BoulWave: Shelter

Outlier!Au Boulder x Heatwave

CW: fluff and angst. Love. Heatwave's confessing trauma, of course. Finally Boulder talks about Bulkhead, not well healed scar (not explicit). Bad sibling relationship between Heatwave and Lightwave

“Is it raining again?” Heatwave looked at the window, and yes, it was raining again, since some vorns that started to rain strangely on Cybertron from time to time, no one is capable to understand why, even the superstitious are confused

“Really?” Boulder replied with the comm link “I thought today would be sunny again”

“It seems Primus don’t want me to go” Heatwave sighed and looked away, sitting on the couch

“Don’t say that! A little bit of rain can’t ruin our date”

“Wait, is it a date?”

“Yes?”

“Hm, maybe that’s why is raining”

“Oh, come on!” Boulder yelled, feeling the train move slower “I’m already there, wait for me and we will make a solution”

“Okay” Heatwave gave a big roll-optic, frag, he could only think about the ruined date

“Hey, promise me something” Boulder called his attention “smile a bit, I want to see a big big smile on your face when I get here, maybe together we can convince Primus to let the sun out”

“Hm… promise” Heatwave finally said, then, both hanged up

A dark bluish face got him above “Why so blue?” the bot asked

“You already know that” Heatwave took their face and got them out of the view with one servo, making them roll over the coach

“Pfft- you’re so boring!” Soundwave yelled at him

“Go outside then, the real world is funnier than me”

“Eh… no” the bot rolled again to meet Heatwave straight to his face “did you told ‘em?”

“Told them what?”

“About your real name, dah!”

“No”

“That’s why you have that blurry face or is it because is your natural state?”

“Do you want me to make your natural state a missing optic?” Heatwave stood up and go out of the room

“Ahg! Talk with Ravage is funnier than talk with you”

“She’s a good peripheral, maybe you should learn a bit” he didn’t turned, just waved his hand, Primus, how can be a bot so grump?!

“Hey, grumpy man!” Soundwave called, Heatwave stopped a moment “don’t ruin it, it seems you enjoy it a lot, and Boulder enjoys it too” Heatwave looked to his back

“Thanks” Heatwave said, holding a tiny, barely viewable smile

Heatwave didn’t knew to where he was going, just wanted to be as far as possible from the bot who could read his mind without problem if he was too close, mostly because he didn’t wanted to share his feelings, not on the moment, and Soundwave is so immature!

“Hi?”

Shit

“How’s my little bro?” she asked, rounded his head like a ghost, and then tried to peek Heatwave’s check plate, as a psychic, she could do that and more without been on the same room, to read minds was a thing, but to control them was as different as it sounds

“I don’t want to talk with you” Heatwave got away “I’m waiting for someone”

“It is raining, are you sure you want to go outside? The acid will ruin your paint and the spores of the plants can infest your vents”

“That’s better than you”

“Even death is better than me when it comes from you” she sat on a chair, raising her pedes on the table “How are the rest doing?”

“Talk with them”

“Sound and Shock are busy”

“Funny thing, you’re more loved than a Prime and you’re the bored one” Heatwave tried to go to the another room, stopped with a pointy finger on his chest by the try of ghost of his sister,

“You’re a gladiator, and you’re maybe more loved than me, and look at you,” she straighten her posture, making Heatwave look tinier, and Heatwave is a really big and tall bot “running from your own sis just to sneak out with a bot who barely stands your yelling” her voice was sweet and even childlike, but Primus, how could someone be so venomous

“That’s their problem, not yours!” Heatwave raised a bit his voice

“Whatever thing my little siblings are part of is my problem”

“Come here and show me” Heatwave looked Lightwave deep in the eye, waiting for her to move or to say, she stand frozen like a statue, with all her three eyes nailed on Heatwave’s gaze “what a good sis you are” Heatwave ignored her form, passing through it without problem like if it wasn’t there, this was nothing new, all their conversations end on Heatwave treating Lightwave like political trash and Lightwave trying to get Heatwave’s mind by manipulating him, no matter how much they care, their hate and need are stronger than they.

A knock at the door distracted the bot, who knowing his bad temper, decided not to follow him this time, she was already bored and tired of her own day

“Surprise!” a green bot showed a basket the moment the door opened

“You’re more brave than I thought” Heatwave replied the bot, going outside to notice the rain already stopped “Hehe, what a coincidence”

“What?”

“The sun follows you” Heatwave joked, and Boulder replied with a soft laugh

“Now can you see how good our day will be?” Boulder took Heatwave’s servo and both started to walk

“I don’t need to see the future to know it is already good”

“Aw,” Boulder gave him a soft smile “That’s what I wanted to hear”

“Just to ask,” Heatwave changed the subject “you sounded mad when I first call you earlier, was everything okay?”

“Ah” Boulder doubted a moment “sure, everything’s fine”

But Boulder couldn’t escape from Heatwave’s suspecting gaze, it was funny how he tried to prove he cared because his optics to the normal people were almost killing, Boulder let out a soft chuckle

“Am I funny?”

“Yes” Boulder replied, to see Heatwave’s misunderstanding was an spectacle they would never get tired of

“Wow,” Heatwave replied sarcastically “how did I became the most dangerous person on all Cybertron to a joke to you” Boulder shouted a laugh, not caring to hide it

“I’ve saw even the tiniest part of you, you can’t scare me!”

“That I can’t?” Heatwave exaggerated an offended tune, letting out Boulder’s servo and hiding behind him

“No!” Boulder exclaimed, trying to reach the bot’s silhouette, but Heatwave was too fast for it, it was actually his best move on the arena “don’t you dare! Sol, I’m serious!” Boulder couldn’t get him in time, Heatwave took Boulder from their hips and raised them like a sparkling almost without effort “Sol! Get me down!”

“Now you’re scared?” Heatwave turned around on himself, laughing hardly

“Put me down! Ha!” Boulder wanted to tell Heatwave more but their vents were busy laughing

When Heatwave thought it was enough tease, he let Boulder fall directly on his arms, “are you scared?”

“Pretty much” Boulder surrounded Heatwave’s neck with both arms with a soft look and a cute smile, caressing Heatwave’s scar on his check plate

“Where we’re going?” Heatwave lowered Boulder to the floor

“Is a surprise”

“Oh, Boulder, no, I don’t like surprises!”

“Ay, Come on, Sol, is not that bad” Boulder took his servo and both continued their way

“Heatwave” he said from nowhere

“Sorry?” Boulder asked puzzled

“Ah…” he doubted a bit, but met again Boulder’s optics “call me Heatwave” finally said “Sol is only for the arena” he lowered his voice, Boulder smiled a bit

“Sure, Heatwave”

…

The grass was still wet of the rain, at least it was fresh, both lay on it after the snacks Boulder brought on the basket, playing with Heatwave’s servo while he had his optics closed and his head pressed on Boulder’s, “Heatwave”

“Yes?”

“How did you get this?” Boulder took Heatwave’s servo, his wrist had a circular mark that surrounded like a bracelet, Heatwave recognized where Boulder’s fingers are

“A scraplet bite me”

“Really?!”

“No” he corrected quickly “but that’s what I told everyone, if someone asks, say that”

“Oh, well, that’s great, it was a battle then?” Heatwave paused

“Technically”

“What does that mean?”

“Let’s make a deal”

“Is a good one?”

“I promise”

“…fine, what is it?”

“I’ll tell you what happened and you tell me why you were mad this morning”

“I like the scraplet story”

Heatwave chuckled a bit at Boulder’s sarcasm “you can tell me anything”

“I know, I just, I don’t know if I have to share it” Boulder excused with low voice, for a moment Heatwave could feel Boulder’s worry on their voice

“Ok, I got it” Heatwave preferred not to insist, he knows perfectly that kind of stories

“…but” Boulder said softly “can I know what happened to your wrist?” Heatwave opened slowly his optics “you don’t have if don’t want to, but, it doesn’t look fine” Heatwave looked at his wrist, then to Boulder, again to his wrist, marked like dented, he knew Boulder would insist after all, and they already know each other for a while, maybe it was time to tell this part of his story

“Do you remember I told you my siblings and I are not on the system?”

“Yes”

“That’s because we escaped,” Heatwave took Boulder’s fingers and lowered his voice, only for Boulder to hear “when we were sparklings, Shockwave electrocuted someone by accident, at those times Outliers still were something new and the rest got scared. They wanted to take him away, and I saw what would happen, I got scared and took them with me, but we were simple sparklings, Soundwave was too shy and Shockwave couldn’t control himself, so, I became the older brother, but I wasn’t on the system and nobody wanted problems, the only place someone accepted me was on the arena, doing the same Wing do, taking care of the us before and after each game. You probably don’t know but have you heard of Kaon’s Titan?”

“I don’t think so”

“Well, he was a gladiator, The gladiator of the moment, but he was also volatile, I always thought he was bad at it but spectacle was his fort, and someday I said something he didn’t liked and he did what he did best” Boulder got up their head to look at Heatwave, his expression was melancholic

“I’m sorry”

“It’s okay, after all, it only gets worse”

“That doesn’t help”

“I know, you’ll see, his favorite punishment was to enchain my left, he knew it was my dominant servo and I was too tiny to get out of it”

“But that was a lot of time ago, a mark like this is not supposed to endure much time”

“If each time you got an attack the people on the arena locks you down, it can”

“Wait, that wasn’t the last time?”

“The last time was half-a stellar-cycle ago” Heatwave took his gaze away from Boulder “sometimes I got random or unfortunate visions on the arena, and to block it, my processor gets fuzzy, and the last thing I remember after that was to almost got killed, and when I return to the real world, I’m locked away on the arena’s underground. The first time was when I dreamed of Shockwave and Soundwave being founded, I got scared, and he was angry and then I remember like falling asleep, and when I woke up, he was dead on the floor” Heatwave returned his optics, Boulder’s were full of worry, for a moment Heatwave thought maybe he finally did what he know feared the most “are you scared?”

“I…” Boulder doubted, but again softened their gaze “no. Did the vision came true?”

“No, on that times, Soundwave started to read minds, and thanks to the spark-bond, they knew something was off and came for me, the next day people were searching for us where we were hidden, but we weren’t there, so, I think my crazy, fragged up processor saved my siblings and saved me, but after that day the people on the arena saw my ‘potential’, hehe, and now here I am, the visions are of great help to evade been killed, but those times things got out of control, this is their way to deal with me, and the cuffs are always too tight, especially the left one”

Boulder was out of words, not knowing what to do or to say, except to bring Heatwave’s servo to his face and his mouth, offering a tiny kiss to it “none of it sounds good or okay, I’m sorry”

“Thanks, but don’t worry about it” Heatwave brought Boulder’s servo that was glued to his, to his own mouth, also offering a soft kiss to their back palm

“I had a fight with my brother,” Boulder gave him a distant look “that’s why I was mad this morning, and the rain didn’t help”

“You don’t have to share that”

“A deal is a deal” they said, looking away from him “his name is Bulkhead, he lives far away but always talks to me, of course, I haven’t talked with him properly this lasts orbitals, he got worried that I was into something and I told him about you,” Boulder stopped a moment “well, I skipped some details, I didn’t mention him your name either, and he didn’t took it well, I don’t know if it’s because I didn’t answer all his questions or because we haven’t had a proper chat but he got mad, he yelled at me and I yelled at him… now that I say it, it’s not as bad as your wrist”

“It is” Heatwave stood and sit up, next to Boulder, he put a serious gaze and squeezed Boulder’s servo “Boulder, listen to me, if there’s something I managed to learn on all this time with you, is that any kind of story is important, it changes us and makes us feel, and to feel is something that we got taken away the moment we got into that place. I want you to never forget that, because you thought me that”

“Heatwave”

“Heatwave nothing, I want you remember that, can you?”

Boulder closed the gap between their foreheads, letting Heatwave caress their check plate “Thank you”

“It’s nothing. But promise me you will talk with him, to get things clear at least”

“I’ll do”

“And, just a last thing”

“Hm?”

“Always keep that smile, is like seeing the sun without burning your optics” Boulder chuckled, melting at Heatwave’s whisper and touch

“I promise” Boulder then took both Heatwave’s servos and on theirs “Heatwave, can you promise me something?”

“What is it?”

“If you ever feel bad, or fuzzy or confused, or you feel your processor is going to trick you, call me, it is not necessary to lock you”

“It is, I’m like a beast when I’m not conscious”

“That’s what everyone told you! But I want to help, that’s why I stayed with you in first place, Heatwave, this is not okay, and you need to treat that, I promise I’ll do everything on my servo to help you”

“But why is you can’t help me?”

“In that case, at least you will not be alone, okay?”

Heatwave chuckled

“Okay”

---

Final note: Boulder can control the weather, Heatwave can see the future, just for your knowledge

[oflights]

oh this is so exciting! happy pride! You've reblogged a number of pretty bejeweled things today, and I wonder if they could be a prompt, perhaps as a gift, or an item in need of cursebreaking? no stress at all if this doesn't spark the muse!

hi!! thank you for this prompt, i kind of loved it. i chose to use this as a reference point and honestly had a lot of fun with it!

as i said yesterday, this wound up being thematically appropriate for a certain blond someone's birthday, which is why it's posting now!! i'm still working on other prompts, and feel free to keep sending some if you'd like!

this is about ~1100 words (sooo close to under 1k 😭) and features curse-breaking partners harry and draco, very jealous harry, and cheesy gemstone/eye comparisons. 💎🎈

“He bought them at auction,” Draco says in a hushed sort of voice, beaming down at the dangly gold earrings Harry is frantically casting on. “I can’t even imagine the price—not that that matters, of course, it would be thoughtful either way, but look—those are genuine pearls, Harry. Byzantine! Sixth century!”

“Sure,” Harry says through gritted teeth, not pausing in his casting. His hand is starting to cramp a little, so he drops his wand and takes a breath to gather his magic up in his spread fingers, ignoring Draco rolling his eyes and muttering something about showoffs. “Too bad they’re cursed.”

“They’re not cursed!”

“They’re definitely cursed,” Harry says, flexing his fingers over the earrings nestled in their ornate wooden box. He could cast the magic he’s working over them in his sleep—the perks of being a rather competent Curse-Breaker—and it’s no trouble at all to cast a few more times, just to be sure. More than sure. He’s absolutely certain that there’s something magically wrong with these earrings, and he’ll prove it. “And they’re ugly, beside.”

“They’re not—you have no taste.”

“They wouldn’t suit you at all, either; you’ve only got the one ear pierced,” Harry says, glancing up at the tiny diamond cuff glinting over Draco’s cartilage and the even tinier moonstone stud in his lobe, easily overlooked unless you make a habit of looking. Harry thinks he could point them out in the dark, blindfolded and spun around, but that’s not anyone’s business but his own. “Are you sure they were for you?”

“Of course they’re for me,” Draco huffs, shaking his head. “The box had my name on it, and Edmund left a note that he’d been called away but he wanted to make sure I got my present on my actual birthday instead of waiting for the party on Saturday—” The party that Harry had planned with absolutely minimal help from Edmund, who he thinks has a low chance of actually showing up, the bastard. “And, as I already told you, there are pearls.”

Harry just glares down at the stupid earrings, shaking his head.

Draco sighs. “Pearls are my birthstone.”

“Since when?”

“Since I was born in June, you nitwit.”

“They don’t even look like pearls,” Harry says, trying not to swear out loud. He’d gotten Draco a moonstone and diamond cuff so he could switch out his piercings. He’d never even considered birthstones, only that little stud that always catches his eye, and the shimmery moonstones on Draco’s watch; he’d learned about adularescence and thought about what light looked like reflected in Draco’s eyes.

At least, Harry knows, his gift is actually wearable. He can’t imagine Draco in these earrings, dangling there as he chats away with their clients and tosses his head back in laughter at Harry’s scant, interjected jokes. They’d agreed early on in their Curse-Breaking partnership that Draco was more of the natural at client relations, but Harry never feels as good as he does when he can join in and make Draco laugh. And the client, of course. That’s fine too.

He wonders if Edmund ever makes Draco laugh like that, when he’s not Portkeying off to another auction, standing Draco up for dinner with his parents, or gifting him absurd, assuredly cursed earrings. Certainly not, Harry thinks.

“I assure you that there are pearls,” Draco says, reaching out for the box. Harry smacks his hands down over it, shaking his head.

“No way, you know the rules. No touching, not until I’m sure there are no curses,” Harry says. “And I’m sure there are, so—”

“That rule is for both of us,” Draco says, swatting at Harry’s hands, laughing a little as Harry swats him back, their hands fluttering against each other over the top of box.

Harry traps both of Draco’s hands in his for a moment, grinning triumphantly, then yelps as Draco grips his hands back and slams them down on the box.

“You can’t keep me away from my birthday present,” Draco says firmly.

Before Harry can argue—before he can say he’s just protecting Draco, he’s just showing him who Edmund really is, and he could show him so much more, he could prove that Edmund is a dunce who has no idea what he has in Draco, who takes him for granted and thinks Draco would wear yellow gold and pearls and garnets and dangly, ugly, obnoxious, definitely cursed earrings in a pair when he only has one ear pierced—before any of that can come out, the door to their office bursts open to reveal a panting, red-faced Edmund, practically doubled over.

“Edmund?” Draco says, standing up from where he’s been perched on Harry’s desk and whipping his hands back.

Edmund wheezes at him, slowly straightening, his eyes widening as he holds up a very similarly-shaped wrapped box in one hand. “Wrong—present—”

“What?” Draco squawks as Harry grins broadly, triumphant.

“Don’t—open—oh—” Edmund continues, eyes going impossibly wider as he stares at the box still under Harry’s hands. “Don’t—touch—”

It’s Harry’s turn to squawk, “What?!” and whip his hands away, just as Edmund chokes out, “Cursed.”

Harry’s grin drops, staring down at the box—which is now devoid of earrings. He realizes this at the same time that Draco does, at the same time he feels a suddenly pinch in his left earlobe, jumping in his seat and yelping, “Ouch!” at the same time Draco’s hands fly up to his own ear.

He feels a weight near his cheek and gapes, wide-eyed, as he sees one of the earrings is now in Draco’s unpierced left earlobe. The other, he realizes as he cups his hand over the side of his face, is in his ear.

Harry and Draco stare at each, something charged and heated building up in the air between them, tingling where the earring is and spreading out to the tips of Harry’s fingers.

“Right,” Draco says as the moment builds, his eyes never leaving Harry’s—wide, bright, beaming with something that would be adularescence if his eyes were the moonstones they resemble. “What kind of curse, exactly?”

The earrings jingle, the magic tingles, and suddenly Draco drops into Harry’s lap, Harry’s arms going around him with little choice, their breaths quickening and a flush spreading across both their faces, as Draco’s horrible boyfriend watches.

“Erm,” Edmund says. “Right. That is to say, ah—well, you see, it might not be a curse so much as a—a bond, perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” Draco says, pants out really, staring down at Harry, who stares back, until they can’t stare any longer because they’re kissing instead.     

[spideystevie]

Hello Allie! May i request a steve fic with the prompt " giving them a bite of your food "

hello!! i hope you like it <3 (0.8k)

“giving them a bite of your food” [request a little things prompt]

You get home considerably later than Steve, tired and a little moody. The door of your small apartment swings open, the hinges squeaking when it swings shut behind you. 

Your shoes pile up next to Steve’s in the entryway and your keys find their home next to his in the bowl by the door. It makes you smile, even briefly, the way your things fit together like the two of you. 

It smells like Steve’s cooking, it smells like home. 

“Steve?” you call out, heading towards your tiny kitchen. 

“In here!” he responds, voice coming from your even tinier dining area. He’s sitting at the table, his back to you with a plate of food in front of him. Dinner, you assume. 

Steve cranes his head to see you, his face lighting up like the sun when he does. He pushes his chair back, angling himself towards you. He reads the way you seem to sag and the lingering frown in your smile almost immediately, concern pooling in his eyes. 

You run a hand through his hair when you reach him, pushing it back off his forehead and dipping down to press a kiss against the skin there. His hair falls back into place, as you straighten out.

“I didn’t know when you’d be home so I made dinner,” he says. You glance at the plate in front of him. There’s a fork stuck in a nice serving of pasta. 

“Looks amazing, Stevie,” you say and you mean it. Steve’s cheeks twinge pink at your words. 

“Here, sit down and I’ll fix you a plate,” he moves to stand and you rest your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down. He frowns at you, a pretty pout and a pinch between his brows. You sit next to him, smile soft and your hands still on his shoulders. 

“In a minute,” you say and he finally slumps back down into his seat. He pulls your chair closer to his, the wooden legs dragging against the floors. You’re certain your downstairs neighbors must hate you. 

Steve pulls your legs so they drape over his lap. His hands rest on either of your thighs, thumbs drawing circles on the denim of your jeans. 

“You okay?” he asks softly. Your shoulders are droopy and he can read the exhaustion behind your eyes but you smile at him anyway. 

“I am now,” you reply, one corner of your lips lifting higher than the others. Steve shakes his head with a smile and brings his forehead against yours. Your hands move from his shoulders to the sides of his neck, the freckled skin warm beneath your palms. 

“You gonna kiss me hello or what?” you tease. Steve rolls his eyes playfully, his lips meeting yours not even a second later. A sigh escapes you, body feeling more content and at home than it had all day. He kisses you soft and slow, the world seeming to stop spinning while he does. 

You chase him for one more when he pulls away, this one more chaste than the last. Your stomach is swarming and your blood feels warm beneath your skin. Steve tilts his head to press a kiss against your forehead. 

He leans back causing your hands to slip down to his arms. 

You drop your head against his shoulder and Steve moves one of his hands from your thigh to your back. 

“Hungry?” his hand rubs up and down the length of your spine and you close your eyes for a second. You feel an overwhelming amount of love for him at this moment. Your Steve, always making sure you’re taken care of. You do your best to shake your head against his shoulder. 

“Tired,” you say but your stomach lets out a noise of protest a second later. You can feel Steve’s shoulders shake with his laugh. You lift your head off his shoulder, preemptively pouting because you expect him to get up to fix you a plate like he’d promised. 

He seems to sense this and instead grabs his fork, twirling pasta around it. 

“Here,” he says, bringing the fork up to your lips. You bite it off the fork, humming in satisfaction as you chew and swallow. 

“Good?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You nod enthusiastically, humming again in response. Steve laughs a little at your reaction and leans in to press a kiss against your temple. You let him feed you another bite before getting up to fix yourself your own plate. 

He doesn’t let you get far, his hands pushing against your shoulders this time. You droop against your seat as Steve disappears into the adjoining kitchen to get you your plate.

A dopey smile lifts your cheeks as you listen to him hum something random in the kitchen. You wonder how you got so lucky.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

For make me write!!

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮 (I love this fic and everything about it and I can’t even go into why but thank you for writing and sharing and I’m excited about part 2)

⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡⚡(The last chapter was so sweet and I’m so excited to see where Buck and Eddie’s journey is next with the wedding and future plans. And yay for good communication).

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮 (Ah the Bobby seeing Buck’s past had me in tears I don’t think Im ready for the opposite of that)

🚨🚨🚨🚨(I went from emotional to OH NO real quick)

🩸🩸 (Eddie healing from all his trauma in this one is just *chefs kiss*)

💐(The couple of snippets I have seen, this one about May just seems so interesting! Plus I love getting to see recurring/non-main characters heads!)

HI!!! THANK YOU!

30 for 🦮 (THANKS! I am so excited to share Pt. 2)

---

 One, trying to work from home with a little kid in the house. Two, knowing that, elsewhere, Eddie is struggling considerably with missing his son. And, three, the fact that Cranberry seems to be matching Buck’s bored, cagey energy. 

Christopher is a great kid. Really, the best. But he’s still a kid. And the novelty of online school - for both student and teacher - means a lack of order and structure that leads to him inevitably seeking out Buck several times an hour. Buck has to give him a stern talk about interrupting meetings if it’s not an emergency. And no, needing a Rice Krispie Square is not an emergency. Although Buck understands the urgency. He’s been snacking on them lately, too, and they’re sort of addictive.The point is, it’s not easy sharing the same space with a kid literally all the time with no breaks. Even a kid he genuinely adores. Especially when he’s never been anyone’s primary caregiver before, other than Cranberry. 

As for Eddie, Buck knows he’s not adjusting great. They talk every single day. Often multiple times a day. He tries to put up a brave face, but he misses his son and feels badly for leaving him again. 

“It just brings back old shit,” he explains one evening over FaceTime. “Like I’m back where I started. Even if I know that’s not true.”

He’s not alone at least. Hen and Chim have both moved into Buck’s apartment temporarily, too. Which Buck thinks sounds crazy crowded. But he gets it. They both have families to protect. And with Maddie recently announcing her pregnancy, Chim is extra anxious. So, at least Eddie has company. People to look out for him at work and away from it. Because right now, there’s not a lot Buck can do for him, other than be a constant ear. 

“You’re already doing the most important thing for me,” Eddie argues when Buck expresses this. 

---

24 for ⚡(thank you!!!! I am plowing full steam ahead on this wedding hahah because I want to get past it):

---

“Shall we take a look at the bedrooms?” Gianna asks. 

“Definitely,” Eddie replies. 

She leads them down the hallway to where three white-walled bedrooms of different sizes wait to be viewed. The master has a lot of space. It’s got an odd sort of shape, longer than it is deep. But the ensuite bathroom is kind of a dream. Shower and tub. Spacious. Recently redone, so it doesn’t need any work. 

Yeah, Buck can see himself enjoying this master suite very much. And enjoying Eddie in it, too… 

The other bedrooms are good sizes too. One is almost as big as the master, minus the closet space and bathroom. 

“Chris would appreciate that,” Eddie says. 

The other is a bit tinier, but would be perfect for a, well, tinier person. 

By the end of the house tour, Buck realizes he doesn’t actually have a single major complaint. 

“What do you think?” Gianna asks. 

Eddie looks at Buck hopefully. He likes it. Buck knows he likes it. 

“I think we should talk about it,” Buck concedes. “It’s got everything we need and it’s close to family.”

---

18 for 🔮(TBH the Bobby one is sadder):

---

He doesn’t matter here. 

He retracts his hand. 

“Charlie, please,” their mother says.

Charlie huffs. “Fine. Whatever.”

The rest of the drive is silent. Bobby wipes the tears off his face, presses his cheek to the glass of the window, and stares off into space. Buck wishes he could crack open his head and look inside. He wants so desperately to understand what he’s thinking. Past and present. 

Buck wonders if Bobby has always been so hard to read. If he has always kept what’s hurting him so close to his chest. Did this start recently? With his father dying? Or before? How much agency does a kid have in their emotional reactions? Buck knew he often felt out of control at this age.

---

12 for 🚨(hahahaha sorry):

---

“Are you sure you’re okay with me taking your room, Eddie?” Hen asks when they arrive on the first day. “One of us can take the couch. Really.”

“Oh, it’s fine!” Eddie insists. “Buck and I can share. No biggie.”

Eddie hasn’t slept in his bed in weeks.

“Makes sense,” Buck adds. “Then it’s only two people per washroom. Much better shower schedule.” 

Hen raised an eyebrow at Eddie, who just offers her an awkward smile.

---

6 for 🩸(THANK YOU!):

---

“You can’t escape!” The guy shouted. Loud enough to indicate to Eddie that he had no idea how close Eddie was to him. 

“You all have to die for this to be over, you know” He continued. “It’s the only way!”

---

3 for 💐 (THANKS!):

---

“I know,” April shrugs. “Doesn’t hurt to have another set of hands, though, does it?”

There’s a confidence in her tone, like she just knows she’s so capable and good at this.

[tiffanytoms]

Happy Halloween 👻

Obviously this is a very bittersweet (or maybe just tragic? Yeah, probably just tragic...) holiday for Jily fans, but I thought I'd post the epilogue from my story What Are You Doing to Me? which can also work as a traumatic one shot in honor of this night!

Enjoy! 😁🎃

Halloween Night, 1981

"Babe, we can't dress him up like a stag every year," Lily teased, flicking at her husband's fake antlers, currently perched lopsidedly atop his messy-as-always hair. They matched a tinier set that very adorably adorned her young son's head, making him even more of a carbon copy of his father than usual. It hadn't been all of five minutes after James had held his son for the first time, his eyes practically morphing into hearts, when a mischievous smirk had slid onto his face.

"What?" Lily had asked skeptically, utterly exhausted.

"Lils…"

"Yes?"

"Baby…"

"Yes?" Lily had been in no mood for banter.

He grinned down to Harry. "I knew I'd be right, but—" he held up Harry to face his mum, "— I didn't realize I'd be this right."

Lily had laughed, and then promptly yelled at James because laughing right now fucking hurt. 

Yeah, so it turned out their baby looked like James, but Lily was still holding out hope that perhaps he'd act more like her. Naturally, she ignored all contrary evidence — like that he seemed born ready to fly, already had infectious charm, a whole bunch of nerve, and, you know, the fact that there seemed to be a rather familiar swagger to his first little steps. But then again, Harry was just such a good, sweet baby; and sure, Lily hadn't been around for James' infancy, but there was no way that he could have been so well-behaved back then. (James had pointed out that she was the more likely out of the two of them to throw temper tantrums, but she ignored that too.)

"Why not?" James asked innocently with puppy eyes that rivaled Padfoot's. "They still fit him, and look how happy he is!"

"And they'll keep fitting him every year since you keep transforming them larger," Lily responded. However, she lacked any true opposition in her words, because Harry really did look so over the moon to be matching his dad, emerald eyes gleaming as he leaned back in his crib, clapping his hands. She couldn't help but gush over him.

James pulled out another pair of plushie adult antlers out of his back pocket and offered them to Lily. "Is someone perhaps jealous, and in need of her own pair?"

Lily shook her head, snatching the headband and jamming it over her hair. "When'd you make this?"

"Just now, on the couch."

She grabbed both of James' cheeks, smooshing his face before kissing him between every word. "You are such a dork."

James grinned as he wrapped his arms around his wife's hips, pulling her flush against him. "I'm pretty sure you meant adorkable."

Lily smiled as she tilted her head to the side and rested her forearms on his broad shoulders. She wasn't altogether too subtle about just how much she was checking him out in this sweater, but so what? James was her husband, and her husband was a whole damn meal.

"Pretty sure I meant I'm gonna need you to…" Lily leaned into his ear and whispered something that made him flush almost instantly.

James' jaw dropped, faux-scandalized as his fingers dug into her skin possessively. "Lily!" He shook his head and laughed. "Harry's first real sentence is going to be something filthy, and you'll have no one to blame but yourself."

Lily shrugged. "I don't know about that. We could always pin it on Padfoot."

James chuckled, leaning into her as his hands roamed her back and he swooped her down for a kiss. Lily giggled as he held her there for a moment, rubbing his nose against hers. "Mrs Potter, that is simply devious."

She gave him a fresh peck. "You love it."

"I do, oh, how I do…" Harry making strange gurgling noises had them come back to standing straight. "I know, Harry, I know." Harry continued making nonsensical squeaks that James pretended to understand perfectly. "Why yes, very astute observation, son. You should be wary of red-headed minxes trying to steal your heart."

"Oh hush, you," Lily reprimanded her husband as she took Harry in her arms. He immediately started playing with her hair as she cooed to him. "Happy Halloween, Harry, happy Halloween!" She tenderly pushed his wild hair off his forehead as she bounced him. "Next year we'll take you Trick-Or-Treating," she promised hollowly. Lily missed the sad look James gave them; after all, they'd never expected to spend a second Halloween in hiding. "Even if we have to do it from under your Dada's Invisibility Cloak." Lily looked up to James, who quickly cleared his face of melancholy. "Did Albus mention when he was bringing that back, by the way?"

James shook his head. "Nah, he didn't."

Lily balanced Harry on her hip and swayed them gently. "I still don't get it. I mean, I heard the man say he has the means to turn himself invisible with my own ears. So, why's he gotta take ours?"

James sighed. "I don't know, babe." The way he said it very much implied, 'When Albus Dumbledore asks you to do something, you just do it.' His eyes landed on the camera Padfoot had dropped off on his last visit, and he instantly jumped at the chance to brighten the mood. He picked it up and pointed it his family's way. "All right, my deers! Harry, Harry— look at Dada!" Harry tittered and did so. "Okay, on the count of three, we're gonna say 'Prongs,' okay? Okay Harry: one, two, three—"

"PWONGS!"

Lily gasped as James took the shot and then practically punched the air in excitement.

"Good job, Harry!" Lily encouraged.

"Yes, Harry, yes!" He stole Harry from Lily and made him fly across the room in his arms, one of his son's all-time favorite pastimes. Harry cheered and giggled as James continued to shout, "A genius! Babe! Our baby is a bloody genius!"

Lily watched the scene, heart melting with love, sweet, sweet love. She adored her family so friggin' much, and truly would do anything to protect it.

James flew Harry back to her and removed the bulky camera strap from off his neck, managing to one-handedly make it face them as he stood by Lily's side and clutched Harry to his chest. "Here, let's get one of the whole Pwongs family."

Lily laughed as she took Harry's tiny hand and leaned into her husband. He kissed her cheek right before the flash went off, completely taking her by surprise. "Sneak attack," he joked.

Lily couldn't wait to see how the photo developed. She thought it had the potential to be one for her nightstand.

Of course, she never found out.

Only a few seconds later, the sound of their front door being blasted apart downstairs echoed across the whole house. Lily and James both jumped, making three sets of plushie antlers and the camera fall to the floor, the lens cracking sounding like a death knoll.

Lily and James turned to each other and she saw her own sickening panic reflected right back at her. No, her brain short-circuited, it's rowdy trick-or-treaters. It's the neighbors. It's Tiger. It's not… it can't be…

But she knew who it was. She had always known who was coming for her, who was still fuming over her years of evading him, who was here. This time, she feared she wouldn't be able to get away. This time, she knew she was about to die.

James reanimated first, shoving Harry into Lily's arms as he pushed her to the window. She realized they both didn't have their wands. If she recalled correctly, hers was probably still on the kitchen counter, last having been used to clean up the mess of James' attempt to make shepherd's pie from scratch. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off—" Seeing his wife remain frozen, he opened the window himself, only to be greeted by a solid brick wall. He yelled out in frustration, punching it to see if it was really there. "Shit!"

Voldemort had magically trapped them inside, and they'd been having too precious of a moment to notice.

Downstairs, she heard Tiger let out an almighty hiss and Voldemort cry out as though he'd been brutally scratched. It was a small victory that ended too soon when she heard that horrid spell, followed immediately by a vivid green light making the carpet just below the nursery door glow. Tiger…

"No… no…" Lily cried, squeezing Harry to her chest.

James sunk to Lily's eye level, gripping her face right in front of his own. "Lils, baby, listen to me," he whispered urgently. "Listen to me." Her terrified darting eyes, frantically searching for a way out, any way out, finally focused on his. A small wave of completely unwarranted comfort washed over her, even though tears were fully streaming down her face. "You have to protect him. I know you can do it," he told her steadily.

What he was planning to do — go down and face Voldemort and buy her time to perform her shield magic — was slowly starting to sink in. "NO. No, James, don't go, please—" she pleaded, wildly gripping for his wrist. She was holding on to both her boys, her boys; why would anyone try to take them from her? Why? "Stay! I can protect you. I can protect both of you!"

Lily's vision was swimming, but she could still so clearly feel the pain in James' gaze. "We don't know that, Lils. It's never worked at protecting two people before." His hand quivered as his thumbs swiped at her cheeks. "Maybe the only reason it hasn't been activated yet is because I'm still here."

"No, baby, no…" Lily sobbed, leaning into his palm. She knew they were running out of time, but she couldn't lose him. Not like this. "Please, don't leave—"

James was holding back his own tears as he moved in to kiss her forehead and put his hand over her heart. "I'm right here. I'll always be right here." He bent to Harry and kissed the top of his head; their son, their precious little son, let out a little laugh with the action, truly having no idea what was going on. "Save Harry?" he asked determinedly as he stood tall.

Lily jutted out her chin, summoning every ounce of strength her body had left to answer him. Her husband needed her. Her son needed her. "Yes. I will." She felt her jaw twitching, but her conviction remained solid, I'll do whatever it takes. 

James shot her a wink. "That's my girl."

He turned to leave, but Lily wasn't ready. She wanted just one more moment, one more second with her man. That wink had brought her back to a time when the possibilities had been endless, and they weren't yet cursed — even if it had felt like they were at the time. She yanked James back to her and sunk her free hand into his silky hair, kissing him like they were 16 again and he'd just cornered her against a desk to try to get her to admit that she loved him back just as much as he loved her. Only now, they both already knew.

She could faintly hear the creak of the first step, alerting them to the fact that Voldemort had deduced that they were upstairs. They were out of time. She quickly tried to imprint the feel of James' lips into her mind forever, to memorize the love she felt with Harry sandwiched between them, delighted he was getting hugged by both his parents at once — but it was over too soon. "I love you, James Potter. I've always loved you." Her voice crackled and was water-logged, but he still understood.

Lily watched as a tear escaped from one of his gorgeous hazel eyes and rolled down his cheek, over his smattering of freckles, to where his dimple should have been, where it had been not minutes ago. He tried to smirk, but his lips didn't quite make it. "I know, Lily. I love you too. Until the very end."

He turned and walked out the door, and Lily knew it was the last time she'd ever see her husband again. She threw things in front of the door, barricading them in desperately, all while knowing it was no use. She just needed to do something with her hands to distract herself from James' suicide mission and the fact that she wasn't going after him. She was trying to find a way to not completely fall apart over the fact that she'd just let her heart walk out the door and she wasn't going to protect him — the man who had always been there for her was about to die, and she was doing nothing. 

Harry babbled at her chest, a string of Mamas and Dadas, and she looked down at him to try to stop from hyperventilating without James. He looked so very much like his father. "Mama loves you," she sobbed. "Dada loves you." Why wasn't the shield working yet? What more did she bloody need? She felt like she was losing her mind.

Then she heard it. After a few taunts from James and a high-pitched cackle, she heard the worst curse in the world and felt a body crumble to the floor, reverberating through her bones and sucking out her will to live.

She knew James was dead.

Lily screamed, feeling her heart ripping in two, or maybe it was her very soul; all she knew was that he was gone, her James was gone, and she didn't— no, she couldn't be here without him. Never again would she see his smile light up the hall when he waited for her after a class they didn't share. Never again would she wake up to his eager face, ready to tell her about all the games he and Harry had already played that morning. Never again would she feel his arms wrapped around her tightly when he inevitably fell asleep as they watched a Muggle movie together on the couch. Never again. 

But, Harry. Save Harry. Harry needs you. Since when had her inner monologue sounded like James? She looked at her son, emerald eyes wide and curious, wondering why his mum was screaming bloody murder. All she could see was love. This was her child, her baby with James, who looked just like him, who was a part of him — and she was going to save him.

She felt her heart pump out its final beats for herself before lurching and bursting forth its last protective bubble, straight into Harry who was still cradled against her chest. The filmy surface was a blood red, like the purest of love, but tinged with gold flecks, the same hue as those in his father's eyes. James is golden. James' love for his son would help to protect him too, even now.

When the bubble soaked into Harry's skin, he looked straight at Lily mesmerized. She knew that awe-inspired look. It was the same one he always gave her whenever she'd start singing him a lullaby before bed. After the attack at the talent show, Lily had never sang in public ever again, and James had never asked her to sing for him either, knowing how painful the memory was for her. But she still sang for Harry, if only to see the look he was giving her right now. She wondered if that's what her magic felt like to him — like his mum was softly rocking him to sleep whilst singing him the sweetest of songs.

(She never knew it, but James would have an almost identical look on his face whenever she sang, only he'd be on the other side of the nursery door, listening in. The Potter boys both just loved her voice that much.)

As her magic got absorbed, Lily let out a shaky sigh of relief. He'll be safe. She knew Harry would grow up, be the bravest kid in all the land just like both his parents before him, it just wouldn't be with them.

[girl-that-writes]

TLDR: I be going through it

hello lovely people of tumblr who have wondered where i went (if there are any lol). i've been completely focusing my energy on just trudging through life as it is right now, which is one of the reasons why i kind of stopped posting. i've been scared, stressed, tired and lonely. but mostly, i've been trying to ignore all those feelings and focus my energy on stuff that it desperately needed to be focused on. to write the type of posts that i post here, i need quite a lot to be able to genuinely make a breakthrough to the optimistic side of things and phrase them eloquently enough so that i can confidently send my thoughts into the world. but i haven't had that for the last couple of months, at all. that's one reason. the other is a lot more... childish 😅

so the following reason only contributed like 20% to me posting less and less. its not a major reason, just a minor one that took more words to explain. the main and the biggest reason is one i already wrote above. but anyways, here's the tinier ones of the two (big issue less wors, small issue more words. ha! the irony lol):

before i completely stopped posting, the interactions on my posts and even my blog started going lower and lower. that made me really underconfident about my posts, and made me wonder if they are even helpful anymore, if they are even susbstancial enough anymore, to add to the already words crowded world. everytime i post, i ask myself, "is this even worth sending out into the world for someone else to see?" and if the answer from my gut is no, i don't post it, because i only want to send out stuff that is actually helpful. i know that i shouldn't care and take up space anyways, or it might seem like i'm being reblog hungry or something like that, but for writers, public feedback is quite the factor in posting or not posting. so when i started feeling like my words weren't as helpful anymore, i started getting harsher on every post and filtered them out more than before. and then the "posting inconsistently causing lesser interaction" kicked in too, which caused my then rare posts to perform even worse.

there were other things too, of course, but the major issue was the fist one. so yeah, scared, stressed, tired and lonely me couldn't whip out much optimistic things. i rambled a lot in this post so if you actually read all of that, i'm astounded at your patience and kindness. thanks for caring about me, a random person, enough to read that giant wall of text. thankyou.

it's late. i'll go sleep now.

(i'm really scared to post this.)

[dorkydiaz]

YOU WERE LIGHTING FLARES [1.3K | alternate universe| bmtb fic] {ao3}

a/n: she's hereee everybody!! i know we are generally losing our collective shit over promo and cast content-- but let me take you to another universe for just a moment. for @buddieau i know thigs didnt go as planned really, but without signing up for this i wouldnt have finished this and i love you both so much <3 both titles are from waking up slow by gabrielle aplin. this will be about 7 chapters i believe, all about this length each capturing a different moment in their relationship in this universe. enjoy <3

CHAPTER ONE: I COULD BE YOUR FRIEND Buck wasn’t one to often get deeply invested in their patients. He would connect with them deeply, leaving him emotionally wrought, but not in a way that was investment. 

Bobby had told him that their jobs stopped at the glass doors. Athena chewing him out. But it just had been something about how tiny the baby had been. Is. He had cradled her all the way to the hospital, feeling some sort of kindred spirit in her. 

He understands why they don’t go past the glass doors. He really does. There’s just something aching. 

“You know, I  have a friend up in the NICU. I could ask him about her?” Maddie offers over the takeout containers that Buck brought to the hospital with him after his shift. 

Buck just shrugs as he sips his coffee, “I don’t know Mads, Bobby made it pretty clear-“ 

“Well, what if you were to happen to be here, and happen on the floor… it’s 4 by the way," she smiles as her pager beeps and she takes a last gulp of coffee before taking off back to the ED, calling “See ya at home Ev!” Before she’s gone. And Buck is alone in the nurse break room. He pushes his last few bites of breakfast around in the container before eating them and throwing everything away and leaving the room, weighing the idea in his head. 

He stands in front of the bank of elevators trying to decide if he wants to go up or down. With a rush he pushes the up button before he can change his mind for a tenth time. 

He carefully follows the arrows and signs pointing him toward the NICU. He feels far too big and clumsy to be in this wing. Where fragile beings are just learning what it’s like to be in the world. Surrounded by such innocence. He didn’t quite fit in with his raucous and reckless life. 

He's finally standing in front of the window, carefully looking to see if he can see her. 

His eyes land on her in the incubator, and she seems even tinier than he remembers, even though it was only a few hours ago really. An eternity, and twice her lifetime for her and a blink of an eye for him. she has a hat now which settles something within the aching, but the myriad of wires and tubes add a new sense of worry. he’s never felt like this before. 

He just watches her chest rise and fall. Hands shoved in his jeans pockets. He still feels out of place, being six foot two, and all muscle. But there is a part of him that is truly and fully invested in everything about her. Wants to make sure that she finds her people, that she’s happy and loved. That she has someone to love her like Maddie loved him. 

The nurse comes by to check her vitals and Buck watches him closely, knowing the nurse can do his job but wants to see if he can read his expression as he checks her over. He catches Buck watching and after he makes some final notes on her chart, he exits the room and comes face to face with Buck. 

His arms are crossed, the sleeves of his soft gray shirt pushed up his forearms underneath his light purple scrub top. The tiny stethoscope hanging around his neck, a tiny monkey holding tight.

“Are you her father?” he questions, skepticism already lacing every word. 

And Buck nearly jumps out of his skin even though he saw the other man coming and even suspected that he woul be spoken to. That question wasn’t what he expected. The notion of it even, “Oh god no! I- I’m just-“ 

The nurse’s right eyebrow starts expertly climbing his brow as Buck stumbles.  

“I'm um, I'm a firefighter-'' he shucks the left side of his jacket a little to reveal the emblem, “I’m on the team that brought her in yesterday?” Buck tries, “I’m the one who held her all the way here.” 

The nurse softens, “And my sister, she- she’s the one who said it would be okay for me to come by- Maddie, she’s a nurse down in the ED-  I’ll leave if it’s not, I have pretty much gotten what I came for anyway, I am so sorry.” Buck rambles, fidgeting and looking over his shoulder. 

The nurse starts smiling, and Buck had never seen anything like it. 

“You’re Evan!” There’s a sparkle in his eye that could rival stars in rural Montana. 

A blush creeps across his cheeks, “You know Maddie,” he states, ducking his head and digging a toe into the linoleum. 

“I'm Eddie by the way, I'm guessing she’s never mentioned me by name?” 

“No,” he shakes his head, but then snaps his fingers, “but she did mention a NICU nurse friend!” 

Eddie laughs again resting his hands on his hips casually. 

“She’s tried to convince me to let her give me her cute firefighter brother’s number, I don’t know how many times.” 

“You can have it if you want,” Buck blurts, then covers his mouth, “Oh my god I’m sorry.” 

“It's okay.” Eddie runs a hand over the back of his neck, “You can have it. I just- I’m not ready to date yet?” 

“You can call me Buck by the way, Maddie’s the only one that calls me Evan. Well she does and my parents but-“ 

“We don’t talk about the parents,” Eddie says in the same tone that Maddie does and Buck laughs. It all feels like a breath of fresh air after the shift he had. 

It feels like Eddie is waiting for Buck to deny him something because of what he said, but Buck just takes his phone from his back pocket, opens a new contact and holds it out to him. Eddie smiles a little as he carefully takes it and enters the number. 

“Text me so I have yours okay? I gotta get back in there.” 

“I will. Bye!” 

“Bye Evan.” 

He looks into the nursery again just to make sure her chest is still rising and falling steadily and waves at Eddie one more time before rocking on his heels, and smiling like an idiot all the way to the elevators. 

Maddie is barely in the door before Buck launches into a rant, “Maddie how could you not tell me you’re “NICU nurse friend” is possibly the hottest man I  have ever seen but you have also offered him my number, on more than one occasion, unbeknownst to me. You had ulterior motives!” 

“So I see you met Eddie,” she says, dropping her bag on the floor and toeing off her shoes. “He needed it to be on his terms, or at least think it was.” 

“Yeah, he uh mentioned not being ready to date, what’s that all about?” 

“Not my story to tell. but I hear you have his  number so you can ask him yourself.” she just grins and opens the fridge to grab a glass of juice before she crawls into bed. 

Buck is laying in bed staring at the ceiling when his phone buzzes;

From: Eddie 🩺 Hi. 

A blush creeps across his cheeks and he smiles. He quickly schools himself because he just met the man. But there had been something about him that made Buck want to crawl into a warm bubble and live there with him.

To : eddie 🩺

shouldn’t you be sleeping 🤨

From : eddie 🩺

Couldn’t you say the same for yourself?

To: eddie 🩺

Oh no

R u someone that like uses actual grammar while texting

From: Eddie 🩺

Is that an actual question?

To: Eddie 🩺

Uhh yeah

From : Eddie 🩺

Yes. And if only there was punctuation for you to indicate that you were asking me a question…

To: Eddie 🩺

Oh. my. God. 🙄

good night