#not sure how to post fic here or if i should but you know !!! snippets are there

[yourlazykitkat]

feel alive, lover

notes: Happy Holidays @bubybubsters!!! This I, your secret santa who will save you from eviction (and my fax machine from all the noise complaints we've been getting.) I rewrote this little snippet many times coz I struggled to get it just right but hopefully you'll enjoy it.

thank you @acotargiftexchange for hosting this lovely event <3

word count: 2.1k

tags: Azriel/Eris, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, There was Only One Bed, Graphic Depictions of Injury/Healing

summary: After the war with Koschei, Azriel finds a letter meant for no one and decides to follow through anyway.

fic:

For my dearest Lady of the Darkest Mountain,

Your last letter was a prayer answered in this bloody war. Even though the war has been won and our soldiers are trickling home, the path from my waiting heart to your ever-gracing lips has become a river of blood and death. I do not beg often but I must here- that your sweet hand will not leave mine or else I may drown without ever learning how a sweet mouth like yours passes breath to another. 

With all my heart,

Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court

---///---

“His Lordship is not currently taking visitors." Azriel snaps, using his whole weight deceptively against the mahogany door and his unblemished hand pulling the gold-trimmed curtains closer as to conceal his patient. He clicks his tongue, the Autumn tongue not settling quite right, "You'll have to make an appointment with one of his ministers."

“I have been waiting for hours,” Lady Delour hisses, with their face like a blushing flower, and Azriel watches, fascinated as the lace and ruffle of their bodice begins to bloom. “Lord Eris-”

“High Lord.” He corrects and Delour’s face flushes insidiously.

“ High Lord Eris has no ministers to speak of as of now.”

“The absolute tyranny,” He agrees, “A week in and there is no reason to his government. Someone should kill him.”

A pause. “What?”

“Someone should heal him.” He repeats patiently. 

Weak laughter and Lady Delour gives him one of the most anxious smiles he’s seen on a fae holding a beautiful bouquet, “You are the Healer.”

Azriel stares at them, unimpressed. They stare back, twisting the cobalt ribbon wrapped around the bouquet around their gloved finger. The paper wrap crinkles as they shift and Azriel, quite reasonably, wants to rip his ears off. From behind the curtain, there’s a guttural cacophony of coughs.

“That would be our High Lord.” He eases on the door, letting it close slowly, “I shall... attend to him.”

“Please.” Gloved hands grab his pale forearm and he hates how he flinches, “Just for a moment, I need an audience with Eris. We’re old childhood friends.”

“I’ll take those for you,” Azriel says before they can speak, thoroughly bored now. He takes the bouquet of mostly blue-purple flowers which look like sweet bells folding into themselves. With one last smile, he shuts the door in their face and lets the curtain fall.

Arikan Foxglove , his shadows whisper. Psychoactive. Lethal poison. Autumn-Winter-Spring Cartel. 

He hums mindlessly, plucking a few imperfect petals and rubbing them between his fingers. On the patient's bedside table, there's an empty vase, a steaming tea set and half of a medical kit. He slouches into the visitor armchair, catching sight of himself in the mirror: ears longer than a High Fae's, his skin is pale and unscarred against the white and pink Healer uniform. From his height in the chair, he knows he's been offensively glamoured to be a head shorter and perhaps worst are the gossamer wings in lieu of his leather. 

It had been necessary. Azriel was needed in the Forest House during its transitory stage between High Lords as both the eyes of the Night Court and the third hand in Autumn. He'd have settled for stealth but this dreadful fortress had always foiled Azriel's plans and he wasn't sure how long he'd have to hide.

The schematics of the Forest House had remained elusive to the Prythian’s spies for as long as Azriel could remember. There had been attempts of course, that if procuring the true and original plans was a damned river run dry, drafting one’s own was the next best thing. An old Dawn Spymaster had come close- Azriel had been expected to commit it to memory as clearly as his own hand and his high lords’. If he hadn’t, he would have been persecuted, gushing blood from his wings, in the Dawn Treasury.  

But even then, it was no help. The columns of the Forest House were ancient ebony trees whose roots and branches looked like the untamable and gnarled hair and limbs of screeching wood nymphs. He swore the house moved, the hallways and rooms changing like a rearranged gut. The only way to navigate the fortress with any real success was through birthright and their permission, the latter achieved through his false employment as one of Eris Vanserra's Healers.

"Should I kill them?" Azriel murmurs, watching his fingertips turn a sickening blue from the foxglove petals, "They'll have killed you before Beron's casket is closed."

There's no response, just like there hasn't been all week. Eris Vanserra, the new High Lord of Autumn, lay listless in his bed with sunken cheeks and pale skin. His bare chest was void of freckles, covered in rolls and rolls of bandages. It's hard to look at him- whether that be because Azriel has always felt sickened at the sight of the Autumn Prince or the harsh light of noon making the white sheets and his pale skin blinding.

"You have no ministry, no security, no intelligence. The only Healers in the Forest House are Beron loyalists-" Azriel counted down and then looked up, "Really, you only have me."

---///---

Eris writhes in his sleep, pulling and scratching at his wounds that took hours to clean and dress. He tosses and turns, hitting Azriel in the face with a flailing arm but the Shadowsinger almost cries of relief.

A momentary lapse of sanity and exhaustion, he reasons. Tending to Eris for the last week and a half had been like decorating a corpse for its funeral and just any sign of life- any at all, that’s all he had needed.

---///---

Azriel's fingers brushed the bandages delicately, each motion slow, deliberate. Occasionally, he'd be tempted to wrap an open would too tight, too let a needle submerge into skin before sewing the injury- but that was a habit very easily dismissed despite their centuries of mutual violence. Especially as his shadows swirled restlessly around him, anxious about the injuries in a way Azriel hadn't seen since Cassian's wings had been ripped out- since his own hands had been burnt.

Eris's wound, a massive gouge in his side, was a deep, ugly thing—raw, with jagged edges and exposed tissue. Azriel had seen worse, far worse in his life, but there was something about this wound that struck a chord in him, made him linger longer than he should. Perhaps it was because for the last five hundred years, Eris had stopped being fae and turned into an unwashable stain, an untouchable annoyance no matter what Azriel threw at him.

But now, Azriel’s gaze trailed from the wound to Eris’s face, noting the pallor, the way his features seemed too sharp, too sunken. The silence of the room had him hunched over and queasy.

His fingers trembled slightly as he began to rewrap the bandages, the sickening scent of blood and something darker filling his nose. The shadows that clung to him hissed, as though uncomfortable with the proximity to such a vulnerable Eris, yet they didn’t move, didn’t leave.

Eris, once a formidable prince, lay like a broken doll in the bed, unable to speak, unable to move, his body a testament to whatever battle had been fought before Azriel had arrived. His eyes fluttered, the lids heavy from fever, but there was something sharp in the way his gaze flickered to Azriel—a subtle challenge, a silent question.

Azriel couldn’t bring himself to look away, not now, not with the way Eris’s breath shuddered with each inhale, not with the way the autumn prince’s chest rose and fell, slow and painful. Something stirred in Azriel’s gut, something that felt almost like curiosity, like an unfamiliar kind of fascination.

“How did you let this happen to you, Eris?” Azriel muttered, his voice rougher than he intended.

Eris's lips parted, but no sound came out, just the rasping breath, the faintest flutter of his chest as he tried to move, only for pain to hold him still. His eyes, though dimmed by exhaustion and fever, met Azriel’s with something like defiance. It was familiar, that look, the one Azriel had seen so many times before, though it was now tempered by the weakness of the body beneath it.

Azriel couldn't help the way his gaze flickered back to the wound, the horror of it—of seeing the raw cavity in Eris’s flesh. It was something that Azriel would have never expected. Not from Eris. The great prince of Autumn—untouchable, always in control. But now, here he was, lying broken in front of Azriel, his body reduced to nothing more than a fragile thing in need of repair.

“I should leave,” Azriel muttered, the words slipping from his lips before he could stop them. He felt the familiar pull to step back, to retreat into the shadows, to leave Eris to whatever fate awaited him. But his feet remained rooted to the spot.

Instead of leaving, Azriel carefully adjusted the bandages, tightening the cloth around the wound, trying not to wince as he pressed against the raw tissue. His fingers were unsteady, too slow, too gentle, and his breath came too harsh as the silence stretched between them.

Eris’s eyes flickered again, this time with something more pointed, more aware.

“I never thought you’d be the one by my bedside,” Eris rasped, his voice a rough whisper. The words felt strange coming from his lips, strained, fragile, but they carried with them an edge, a defiance even in his weakened state.

Azriel glanced up sharply, his hands halting for a moment as he met Eris’s gaze.

“I’m not here because I want to be,” he growled, the edge of his voice betraying the tension building in his chest. "You left a letter."

Eris’s lips quirked, a half-smile that looked more like a grimace than anything else, but it was there.

“Funny, I’d forgotten I had even written that. That wasn’t meant for you.” He said weakly. “For someone who doesn’t want to help, you seem very invested.”

Azriel didn’t answer immediately, his gaze lingering on the wound once more. The sick fascination gnawed at him, despite his better judgment. The scar tissue, the way the wound was shaped—it was something unnatural, something cruel.

“I’m not invested,” Azriel finally said, though his words were laced with something darker. “I’m here because you’re worth more alive.”

Eris’s eyes narrowed, but there was no fire in them, no anger. Only the weariness of someone who’d been through too much, who’d survived too long, only to find himself in a position of weakness.

“If I survive this,” Eris croaked, “I’ll make sure you regret that.”

Azriel couldn't help but laugh bitterly. “Of course you will, Vanserra”

The silence stretched, thick with something between them that neither of them was willing to acknowledge. Azriel finished bandaging the wound, his hands steadying with each passing moment, but the words he had held back earlier remained heavy in his chest.

Eris shifted slightly, his lips parting again as though he were going to say something, but he stopped, his body betraying him. His eyes slid closed, exhaustion taking over, and Azriel couldn’t bring himself to move away, not yet.

“I won’t let you die,” Azriel whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Eris’s chest rose and fell in a slow, rhythmic motion, his breath shallow, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes as they opened once more, a slow, cautious glance toward Azriel.

“You’ve never cared before,” he rasped, his voice weaker now, the fight fading.

Azriel didn’t respond, only leaned back slightly, his gaze lingering on the man before him. For a moment, the room was silent, the tension between them still palpable, even if unspoken. But something had shifted. Something had changed. And Azriel wasn’t sure if he was ready to face it.

But letting Eris Vanserra die alone seemed an awful lot like losing. Losing a bet, losing a war, losing breath underwater. And even if he'd eventually have to leave, Azriel stayed.

END

[cspcrashing]

☠️: kurosaki. what the hell kinda shirt is this ?

🍓: i only said it would fit you, not that it would be your style. besides, it looks fine on you.

☠️: you— fuckin' whatever doc'.

🍓: you like it, don't you.

☠️: shut it.

[starmocha]

Remember when I said the Grassland!Sylus childhood friends/arranged marriage/soulmates AU was at around 4.6k words?

she grew and I still have like three scenes I need to finish writing, but instead of doing that, I kept writing new scenes and...I think I lost control of the story and my life (╥_╥)

So I'm posting another snippet, because...my brain is tired and I really, really, really want to finish this by Sunday because I have another AU wip that I'm also obsessed with I mean I need to finish part 3 of that other Sylus breeding kink fic I promise it's coming

Reminder that this story will include light breeding kink, pregnancy kink, smut, body worship, gratuitous usages of terms of endearment ("my bride" and "my beloved"), Sylus being grossly in love with you, basically lots of fluff. Anyhoo...

The following morning you were lazing in the field as the flock of sheep grazed peacefully all around you. The warm sunlight had you yawning, already feeling yourself being lured by the tempting sun into drifting back to sleep. As the time passed, your eyes felt heavier, and you nodded off a little. Another yawn escaped before you decided a few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt. Slowly, you closed your eyes, letting them rest for a few minutes. “Is this what you do when I’m not here?” You immediately opened your eyes when you heard Sylus’ approaching voice. You let out a soft surprised squeak when he knelt down next to you, his face looming just mere inches from yours. He was smirking. “Lazing around and sleeping? What if your sheep gets stolen by wild beasts, my beloved?” You glared at him. “I was not sleeping. I…was blinking.” “Your eyes were closed for far longer than a blink should be.” “I had some dust in my eyes.” “I’m quite sure I heard you snoring.” You blushed and shoved his face aside, glowering when he started laughing at you. “Did you come all the way out here just to tease me?” “Mmhmm,” he answered with a pleased nod as he sat back with his legs propped up. His elbow rested on top of his leg while he cradled his chin in his hand. You noticed in his other hand was a wreath crafted from leaves and berries. Your heart quickened and you gasped softly. You looked at him expectantly. It was at that moment that you noticed the dark bags under his eyes. You crawled over to him and he sat back, allowing you to settle in between his long legs. You reached up and touched his face. “Did you not sleep last night?” you asked him worriedly. He simply smiled and shook his head. Without a word, Sylus placed the wreath on top of your head. You reached up and touched it tentatively as you looked at him confused. “I wanted to finish this for you,” he explained, smiling, “Just as I had thought. This suits you.” “R-really?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed again, nodding. He leaned in to steal your lips. “You look beautiful.” “Sylus…” You could feel your cheeks warming up as he spoke. “Now everyone will know you are mine and I am yours.” You felt touched by his gesture. Without thinking, you threw your arms around his neck, surprising him into losing his balance. Sylus laid on the grass with you on top of him. You grinned and kissed him happily. He looked up, gasping softly when he saw the sunlight had formed a radiant halo behind your head. How…ethereal... He smiled, his hand gently grasped your chin, his thumb brushing over your soft, trembling lips. “We are already promised to one another,” he said, “but if I may be presumptuous, I would still like to ask.” You looked down at him confused. “My beloved,” he said, voice soft and sincere, “will you be my bride?” You stroked his cheek, and as you leaned down closer to his face, your wreath tilted on your head. “What do you think?” He smiled. “Your wreath is going to fall off.” “You’ll put it back on for me, right?” He huffed in amusement at your audacious question, but he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, reaching up to fix the wreath for you, “I will…my bride.” For that brief moment, you felt like your heart had stopped, and then you smiled again as you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his strong arms wrapped around you and holding you close to his body. “This is my vow to you, my bride” he said, “There is only you in my eyes. In this life and all of the lifetimes afterwards, I will always choose you.” “Same for me,” you answered, gazing back at him fondly. You stroked his cheek, letting yourself drown in those passionate crimson eyes. “I will always find you,” you promised, “In all of our lives together, I will always find you and choose you, my love.” Your ardent words beckoned his lips to yours, and for the rest of the day, you lay together under the warm morning sun on the grassland, lost in your own world of bliss.

[carry-on-au-fest]

Fest Rules

What is this fest about?

The Carry On AU Fest is a prompt based fest that celebrates any kind of Alternate Universe or canon divergent creation in the CO fandom. We accept any pairings or gen fics and art.

Who can participate?

You must be at least 18 years old at the time of signing up.

We expect you to treat everyone taking part, including the mods, with respect. 

All work must be your own, and we do not allow any kind of fic or art produced with AI.

You may register as both a writer and an artist, and you can claim multiple prompts as long as you have completed the first one you claimed first. 

How does prompting work?

On 5th October we are going to open prompting via Airtable. You can submit as many prompts as you like, and you don't have to claim anything unless you want to. You don’t have to create for the fest to submit a prompt. You can prompt anonymously or write your AO3/Tumblr username (in which case people can gift you their works if they wish to).

How does claiming work?

On 19th October we are going to open claiming via a Google form. You can claim your own prompt or claim someone else's. Alternatively, you can self-prompt by picking the first prompt on the list. 

Prompts are assigned on a first come first serve basis. The prompts will be available to be claimed once for fic and once for art. Collaborations are welcome.

If you decide to gift your work to the person who prompted it, please make sure that you stick to the preferences they have expressed and that you don't include their squicks.

What are the requirements for writers? 

Writers will need to write an original fic with a minimum length of 1k.

The fic needs to be an unpublished fic and it needs to be posted on our fest collection on AO3. Your story doesn't need to be complete by the submission date, but we ask that you post at least 1k by the submission deadline and wait until the end of the fest to post the rest.

You can share small snippets and talk about your story on social media platforms.

Should you need an extension, please let us know as soon as you can.

We will reveal one work per day from 8th February.

What are the requirements for artists?

You can create a variety of original fan work, such as:

- illustrations, both digital and traditional (they don’t need to be in colour) 

- moodboards (at least 6 elements)

- plastic arts (including embroidery and origami)

- playlists (a minimum of 10 songs)

- fic binding

- podfic (please make sure that you have the permission of the author of the fic you're recording a podfic of before starting)

You can post your work either on AO3 or on Tumblr (please get in touch and let us know if you prefer the second option).

What kind of rating is allowed?

Any rating is allowed for both art and fic, but please tag your work appropriately. 

If your work is rated Mature or Explicit, the characters involved must be at least 18 years old.

We recommend that you use a beta reader.

What is the schedule for posting?

You can find the most up to date schedule here.

Please get in touch with the mods if you need an extension.

I still have a lot of questions about this, how can I contact you?

Send us an ask, a DM or contact us at  and we will gladly answer.

The mods for this fest are @orange-peony, @pato-roldnart and @bubble-gumhead.

[donationwayne]

obsessed with the things that you do, low-key I need you to move (in) || 27.8k || Buddie

A @buddie-month couch fic

Summary:

Eddie adopts a cat while Chris is at summer camp. He goes to therapy and comes out to his parents. He continues navigating life post gay realization while being deeply and embarrassingly in love with his best friend.

Buck pines over Eddie & Chris figures it only a matter of time before they finally get together.

——————

Snippet:

“I leave for two weeks, and you get a cat?”

Chris kisses her on the top of her head, and she presses her face up against his cheek, already smitten with Chris apparently. “She picked me,” Eddie says defensively. “I found her, but I got attached.”

“She’s so cute. I love her!” Chris says happily, letting her down when she begins squirming.

“You dad has spent a small fortune on toys, so it's a good thing you’re a scholarship kid. You should probably make sure to keep your grades up next year, though.” Buck jokes. Chris giggles in delight, clamoring back to his feet. He takes off in search of cat toys. Void, bored with her new friend, runs away and hops up on the couch by Buck.

“Void!” Eddie says, looking at Buck, and Buck smiles back innocently.

“You know that every time you leave the room or the house, she’s just chilling up here, right?” Buck smiles at him so tenderly that Eddie forgets for a moment how to form words. He throws his hands up in disgust and gives up, moving to begin the unpacking process. He had a lot of laundry to do to get Chris ready to leave the following week for Texas.

“Did you know that cats don’t know what it means when you kiss them, but if you rub your cheek against theirs, it shows basically the same sentiment?” Buck says, stroking his thumb over the kitten's tiny head.

God, Eddie loves this stupid man so much.

[nondelphic]

Hiiii! May I ask for some advice? After a really long time of not writing fan fic, I recently started getting back into it but have been struggling… So I started using a little bit of the chat.ai help me but I feel icky about it but at the same time, I’m constantly struggling with writers block and being burnt out… What should I do?

i'm actually really glad you asked this because i've been preparing a post about using ai responsibly for writing, might just post it here lol:

tldr: this post isn’t about using ai to generate your story for you. it’s about how to utilize ai to enhance your writing process while still keeping your voice and creativity at the forefront.

the rise of ai has stirred up a lot of talk about ethics, originality, and how much tech should really be in our creative space. as writers, our work is highly personal, it's a reflection of our thoughts and experiences. so it’s totally normal to feel icky about bringing ai into the mix.

here's a hot take, though: ai isn’t here to replace your creativity. it doesn’t get the deep, emotional layers that only a human writer can bring. sure, ai can generate text, but it doesn’t really understand what it’s saying. that’s where some of the ethical concerns come in—if we rely too much on ai, we risk losing that personal touch that makes our stories resonate.

on the flip side, when used thoughtfully, ai can actually boost your creative process instead of taking away from it. think of ai as a helpful assistant, it can take care of some of the boring, tedious stuff, giving you more space to focus on what really matters: writing your story, your way. it’s not about letting ai take over, but using it to support and streamline your process.

this is not a post about my experience with ai, but i have to say, that as someone with adhd, ai has been a game-changer for me. it helps me keep track of my ideas, organize my thoughts, and even manage my writing schedule when my brain is all over the place. it's like having an extra set of hands (or, you know, a brain) to help me stay on top of everything, so i can focus more on the actual creative part of writing.

the key is to make sure ai never overshadows your original voice or creative vision. ai should be a tool that helps you bring your ideas to life, not something that writes the story for you. if you’re curious about how to use ai in your writing process while keeping your authenticity intact, here are some tips to do it responsibly:

brainstorming ideas: when you’re stuck on a plot point or character development, use ai to generate prompts or ideas. these can spark new directions for your story, giving you fresh perspectives to explore.

dialogue experimentation: if your dialogue feels flat, try using ai to generate conversation snippets based on your characters. it might not be perfect, but it can give you new ideas for how your characters might interact.

synonym suggestions: tired of using the same word over and over? ai can help you find synonyms or alternative phrases, keeping your writing fresh without losing your voice. i've found this very helpful as an ESL writer!

outline generation: got a rough idea but need a structure? use ai to create a basic outline, then tweak it to fit your vision. it’s a great way to get a head start on organizing your story.

character backstories: use ai to brainstorm character traits, backstories, or names. you can take these ideas and expand on them, adding the depth and personality that only you can create.

quick research assistance: save time by using ai for quick facts or historical details. it lets you focus more on storytelling and less on getting bogged down in research. (disclaimer: never 100% trust what an ai generates, fact check everything). i've found it a great starting point if i have a very niche question for my research.

editing help: use ai for basic grammar and spelling checks to speed up your editing process. just remember, it’s your judgment that will shape the final draft, not the ai’s.

plot analysis: use ai to scan your draft for plot holes or inconsistencies. it can help identify gaps in logic or missing links in your storyline, giving you a clearer idea of where to tighten things up.

tone consistency: ai can help you maintain a consistent tone throughout your story by analyzing your draft and suggesting adjustments where the tone shifts unexpectedly.

pacing adjustments: ai can review the pacing of your story, highlighting sections that may be too slow or too rushed, helping you find the right balance.

character consistency: track your characters' traits, behaviors, and dialogue to ensure they remain consistent throughout the story, preventing out-of-character moments.

theme reinforcement: use ai to analyze how well your themes are being conveyed across the narrative, suggesting areas where you might strengthen or clarify your message.

draft comparison: if you’ve gone through multiple drafts, ai can compare them to highlight what’s changed, what’s been improved, and what might have been lost in the revisions.

to answer your question more personally, i think we can never please everyone, and ai will continue to be developed and get better and better. i understand feeling icky about using ai, and you might get judged for it, but do what you need to do, tbh.

i have found myself in a writing routine where i use most of the advice above in my writing process. i write most of my work myself, but i use ai as a tool to bounce ideas off of, and it's been a life changer. i managed to finish my first novel draft with the help of ai, and it fuelled my creativity to have "someone" (or rather something) to feed my ideas and help them identify what i could do better.

[footandantlers]

Introducing my 381k Payneland fic!

Some of you may have seen my post yesterday about how I wasn't sure on how I should post this monstrosity of a fic but the vast majority of you requested that I post it in chapters! So here's all the information you need to know about it.

When and how will it be posted?

The first chapter will be posted on the 9th of September. There will be 30 chapters in total all stretching out to be between 10-15k each. By this schedule the fic should roughly finish up April of next year! However the full thing is written so I may feel generous and occasionally post twice a week however I'd like to build a community! So I'll be creating a tag for you guys to follow over here where I'll post snippets, extended scenes and scrapped scenes. When the fic ends I also have alternative endings written out that you guys might like! Depending on the popularity of this fic I might end up even creating a discord server, I'm not particularly sure how this fic will do but I'm a huge fan of connecting with my readers, more about a discord server below.

Is the fic titled yet? What's it about?

Yes it is! The fic will be called 'My Godforsaken Loverboy' and it's an AU of Edwin and Charles being dorm mates at St. Hilarions spanning five years. It's very much a slow burn that may drive you insane but I promise I spent forever going through Tumblr hunting down popular head canons and dynamic wishes that seemed popular to throw in this fic so hopefully there's something for everyone! A proper summary will be released soon!

Is this based off the Netflix Series?

Here's where I may lose some people. While it's definitely got plenty of aspects from the Netflix shows (Mostly character wise) I planned the entire fic around the comics and Doom Patrol's season three episode 'Dead Patrol' so the dynamics may be different to what you'll be expecting if you've only watched the Netflix show! I apologise if this throws some people off but I adore them in Doom Patrol dearly.

Now a question for you guys, do we want a discord server?

I'd love a discord server centred around Dead Boy Detectives in general! Where we could share head cannons, fanart, fic recs, ect in more of a discussion way instead of screaming into a void. So here's my idea, I'm more than happy to create an overall Dead Boy Detectives server however it'd just have a channel or two dedicated purely to this fic but I'd have plenty of other channels for different fics as well! I've been on servers like this before and really enjoyed them. Send me a message if you like this idea so I don't lose track of you and if I get enough people I'll make it!

PS. Sorry to those that wanted it posted as a one shot 😔 I decided this seemed the most manageable and reasonable

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Okay, either the scientist knew she was preggo or they just thought she was going through hormonal changes or whatever, there is NO WAY CROWLEY DOESNT KNOW THE HUMAN IS PREGGO.

Also, how much should I bet that Cater is just going to keep the whole world updated with every single DETAIL.

Oh, Lilia is going to have a FIELD DAY WHEN THE BABY IS BORN, same for Trein, he’s probably going to love it.

Referring to this fic snippet here:

Okay, to be fair, I forgot to mention that the events take place shortly after Yuu's arrival. Probably between chapter 2 and 3 given the timeline we have, which puts it at about...two, three weeks after the prologue and shortly after Riddle and Leona overblot.

As for the scientists/researchers, while logically speaking they would immediately jump at the chance to come to the island to start their studies, they first had to make sure these pictures circulating on Cater’s Magicam posts were legit first. Once it is established through a video or two that was posted, that's when they reach out to Crowley to make the arrangements!

And they actually arrive a week after the pregnancy announcement, so you can bet that they are very eager to get some studying done as quick as possible! 😂

As for the staff not realizing that fem!Yuu is pregnant, they are aware of what a pregnant monster's scent is like for sure. But because there hadn't been a human in centuries, even if Crowley was old enough to have been around humans, it's not like he remembers the scent off the top of his head! The staff would all essentially be like those confused cats and dogs trying to figure out what this strange bump is and why their human smells funny before instinctively feeling protective.

Can you just imagine Crowley building a nest for Yuu without realizing just *why* he was doing it in the first place? Or the blank stare he'd give the moment someone asked him like, "...why am I doing this??" and it only becomes clear shortly after the announcement, in which he tries to pretend he knew all along 😂

I'm also reminded of this one post where OP's cat had had multiple litters in the past and was so excited when OP got pregnant that the kitty kept trying to show her to the nest she made for OP's "kitten", and it was the sweetest thing I'd ever read 🥹

Anyway, you can bet your bottom madol that Cater will absolutely be keeping EVERYONE updated on Magicam throughout the whole process, and he is getting flooded with baby picture requests 🤣 It's also sweet how mothers come across the posts and try to offer advice that they'd learned on raising their kids, which is nice, though not all of the advice would really be practical based on species 😅 But at least they're sweet enough to offer that and words of encouragement! I can even see some inviting Yuu to a mother's support group meeting ;;v;;

You can also bet that Yuu will be receiving a lot of baby shower gifts and such from Cater’s followers. At least they don't have to worry about needing to buy diapers for a while! 🤣

Ooooooh yes, Lilia is going to be ecstatic to be able to hold and care for a baby again! He will offer to help watch over the little one (hadn't decided on a gender or name yet for the new baby) so Yuu can take a break, though don't worry about him trying to feed the baby his cooking. He learned and knows that milk is important for the baby, so he makes sure to have the bottles readily available even at Diasomnia~ (though Silver and the others make sure to keep an eye on him when it comes to feeding time just to be on the safe side)

Trein has already raised two daughters, and while he may not be interested in raising another, that's not to say he won't wind up spoiling the little human baby like any grandparent would! He'll also offer a shoulder for fem!Yuu to lean on and reassure her that she's doing a great job as a mother ;;v;;

[aimportantdragoncollector]

Event Announcement!

Three Weeks of Trioholders is an event in dedicated to shipping the first three One for All holders in fics and art, hosted by yours truly. I commissioned the lovely announcement art from @poysean5. This event will run from Monday October 30 to Sunday November 19 2023!

Rules:

I will be accepting not only Trioholders (Yoichi/Second/Third) but also Duoholders (Yoichi/Second aka Ichinii), Yoichi/Third, and Second/Third. Basically, if your fic or art romantically ships the first, second, and third One for All holders in any combination/pairing, then it counts. I just picked the event name to be alliterative.

There will be both an art and writing category.

You may submit as many entries as you’d like. However, you will only be eligible to win once in each category.

The minimum word count for a fic is 1,000 words. Drawings must be colored.

AI (artificial intelligence) art or writing is NOT allowed.

I will be accepting any degree of heat for the romance, from mild crushing to NSFW.

The romance does not have to be the sole focus—for example, if you wrote a crack fic about the vestiges with a side of romance then that would be accepted. At the least, two of the first three One for All holders should be main characters.

Collaborations are allowed, though you can only win one prize for the group.

I’m not picky about time zones so I will count anything submitted until it is no longer Sunday November 19th anywhere in the world (GMT-12 is the last time zone.)

Prizes:

First place in both art and writing will receive a fic of a minimum of 3,000 words from me (Katydid on Ao3) based on a prompt of your choice. Second place in both art and writing will receive a fic of a minimum of 1,500 words from me. Honestly, if you participated in my One for All October contest last year, you know when I write prizes, I tend to go over the word count. I will also be offering an undecided number of honorable mentions (awarded with snippets) depending on how many submissions I get. One honorable mention will be given out randomly to ensure that everyone has a chance to win.

I reserve the right to ask for a different request if I do not feel capable of writing the prompt.

Submission:

Please use the tag Three Weeks of Trioholders if you submit your entry on Tumblr or Archive of Our Own. Also, please @ me (aimportantdragoncollector) if you share on Tumblr. If you post elsewhere online, then you can message me, send me an ask, or leave a fic comment with a link to your entry. Twitter or Fanfiction.Net entries are welcome, just please send me the link to make sure I see it. If I haven’t reacted at all to your entry within four days then you can assume I haven’t seen it and contact me again. I reply to all comments on my fics, and my tumblr asks will be open for the duration of this event.

Please contact me here on tumblr if you have any questions. I’m excited to be hosting this event, and I can’t wait to see what gets created!

[jusst-you-race]

u posted abt oscar being sandwiched between the hassbands is making u think thoughts... so may i ask that as an occ snippet prompt?

love the fic btw! <3

okay i should be writing other prompts but this was just... too tempting... sorry not sorry everyone... anyway please enjoy possibly the most unhinged thing i have every written you're all welcome <3 for the ccc snippet prompts

Oscar I’m panic texting you from the bathroom

Logan Regular occurrence 

Oscar I need your help trying to work out intentions 

Logan Not my forte but go on…

Oscar you’re better than me

okay so Kevin and Nico are here as well 

Logan Like coincidentally at the bar? Or actually at Mark’s birthday drinks?

Oscar at Mark’s birthday drinks 

Logan Oh that’s nice

I told you not to worry too much about not knowing anyone 

Oscar yeah no not worried about that 

I’ve mostly been chatting with them 

it’s been nice they’re pretty chill 

but then at one point Kevin went to get them both more drinks and Nico decided he wanted to sit down so we went over to the booth and Nico like…idk encouraged me to sit next to him?

I mean it’s loud so like it would have been hard to talk across the booth 

so it sort of makes sense 

but he was really insistent 

Logan Fascinating… I mean like you said he probably just wanted to continue the conversation 

Oscar well yeah but when Kevin came back with the drinks I was like okay I’ll get up so he can sit next to Nico 

yknow his husband 

Logan Yeah… and?

Oscar well Nico just shuffled further into the booth 

and pulled me with him

Logan Pulled you with him how?

Oscar like… by the waist 

Logan Oh I see

Okay I’ll reserve my judgment based on how Kevin reacted

Oscar well he just kind of grinned and sat down on my other side 

Logan Yeah that’s what I suspected 

Oscar the booth was kind of crowded so like it made sense to squish in a bit 

but we were really squished in 

Logan Uh huh 

Oscar and then Kevin put his hand on my thigh

and I uhhh I panicked 

and said I needed to go to the bathroom 

and now here I am 

Logan Okay well they aren’t being very subtle 

Oscar do you think so?

Logan Yeah I’d say there’s a good chance they want you to be their third buddy 

Oscar you really think so?

Logan Pretty sure 

Oscar huh 

Logan I’m sure they’d back off if you weren’t into it 

Just tell them they seem nice 

Oscar well 

Logan Well?

Oscar I’m not … not into it 

Logan Then why are you panic texting me! 

Go get laid idiot!

Oscar I just wanted to be sure? 

Logan Well just go with the flow!

Respond to whatever they’re doing

You’ll be fine 

Oscar thanks Logie 

Logan I want details later 

Oscar yeah okay okay 

wish me luck 

Logan Good luck!!! Have a good threesome!!! 

Oscar yeah I won’t be home tonight 

Logan GET IT OSCAR 

Be safe!

Oscar 👍

Logan Morning champ you coming home soon?

Oscar?

Oscar sorry yeah coming home now 

Logan Bit late… it’s afternoon already  

Oscar uhh

we were busy 

Logan Lmao 

So it was good?

Oscar best sex of my life 

Logan Tell me everything when you’re home 

Oscar nosy

yeah okay 

be there in five 

[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Thanks @welcometololaland @beautifulhigh @orchidscript for the tags today—hopefully that’s everyone, apologies if not—and to everyone who’s tagged me over the last few weeks. The old mental health is once again Not Great Jim and writing is not coming easily but unfortunately it is also the only way I know how to feel good about myself so here we are persevering etc.

This is from the blackmail kink fic—if that’s something you’re morally opposed to, I support your right to feel that way but I also do not care, keep scrolling xoxo

Snippet is under the cut but first, tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517

@celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice

@everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz

@leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @matherines @myheartalivewrites

@ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @piratefalls

@read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27

@sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

Otherwise, (hopefully) enjoy the spice below the cut…

It started on Reddit, as all good decisions do.

Alex has always had a bit of a thing about being watched. It’s not narcissism—shut the fuck up, Nora—he just… really fucking likes knowing that he’s the one getting someone off. Since starting college, Alex has perfected the art of the risqué selfie; keeping his abs and thighs in the shot as well as his dick, lighting himself well, making sure he’s suitably vocal as he strokes himself when he posts a video instead of a picture. Reddit, with its ridiculous number of NSFW subreddits ranging from the expected to the terrifyingly specific, is an instant feedback loop of people more than willing to tell him, in explicit detail, exactly what it is about his body and his actions and his sounds that brings them over the edge. His DMs range from respectfully horny to disrespectfully horny in a way he’s been very clear he’s onto, with only the odd one that is actually disrespectful, and they find themselves on the inconvenient side of the block button before Alex can say ‘fuck off’.

And then, a few months after he started posting semi-regularly, he opened his Reddit chats to find a message reading simply:

NYU? Pretty sure I recognise that view out your window haha

It should have been terrifying. It was, genuinely, a good reminder about stranger danger. Except Alex had gotten a hand around his cock without thinking about it, staring at the words on his phone screen, mind spinning with the possibility that someone could put two and two together, that someone on campus might have dozens of pictures of Alex’s dick on their phone without Alex knowing, that someone could put him on his knees to stop his secret getting out…

He’d come harder and faster than he had in months, and spent the next several hours down a brand new fucking rabbit hole.

[riveriafalll]

WIP title game!

Thank you for the tag @illarian-rambling !

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

This game should be fun, as I have many silly names in my folders, most of which relate to the fandoms I wrote them for:

No Time to Cry

Descending the stairs

Bucky and the time he lived in the mountains with his murder daughters

Cadre-Coparenting - what could go wrong?

Shadow-hunting my - uh - multiple mental illnesses

Fourth Wing more like fortieth-wip

Character meets death (goes wholesome?)

TVDeeznuts

The Hunger-bar Games

Of Godparents and Aunt-sassins

Vigilante fic

A Glitch in the System

Who the fuck is Sally Sparrow? (plot twist she's me)

Re-do of Sally Sparrow except there's no Sally Sparrow and a completely different plot

Harry Potter and the job he should have gotten

Making my OC's be adopted by a bunch of adoring vampires is unrelated to my parental issues I promise

Oh fuck I'm doing a space fic, wops

Twi-mental breakdown -light

These are only the ones that I've actually written words for, each oth these has at least 2k of actual story-line, (some have significantly more, cough cough 115k Nttc), and that's still more than I thought there were whoops

That's... 18 fics there, honestly not sure if I know 18 people on here, but I'll try. Open tag as always for anyone I miss!

@once-and-future-fandoms @hyperfixation-tangentopia @nightstar-of-summer @syrensaft @shepardsherd @rkmoon @moonandris @writingbaddie @the-grim-and-sanguine sanguine @agirlandherquill @squarebracket-trickster @caxycreations @thebejeweledwatercat @brotrustmeicanwrite @wintherlywords @k--havok @stesierra @mikathewriter

was this entire list found by desperately searching my following page to see who is actually a writeblr blog? You'll never know

[vixstarria]

Kinktober Day 21 - Free Use

For every day of the month of October I will be posting a little snippet following prompts listed in this post. Most of these will not be full fics, but rather short snippets, set-ups, and, in a few cases, copied bits and pieces of fics I have already published. But, if there is a lot of interest and feedback on any of the snippets, they might just evolve into full fics, so keep that in mind.

Disclaimer / TW: Sex club shenanigans. And yes, yes, I know I'm late... It did take me a full 3 weeks to fall behind, at least.

The masquerade masks were, of course, completely inadequate for concealing anyone’s identity. However, they served a different purpose: acknowledging mask-clad acquaintances as such within the mansion, as well as mentioning their presence at the party outside the manor grounds was an unthinkable taboo, and would result in the irrevocable banishment of the offender and their immediate connections. Attendance at the events was a great privilege, one not to be squandered.

Astarion and Asmodea had been invited to the soiree by the owner of the establishment herself. They were encouraged to peruse and, if they so wished, partake, though the actual purpose of their visit was business, not pleasure: they were exploring the possibility of forging business ties between their cabaret theatre and the Scarlet Veil.

“Why this is even more strange than being on the paying end of a brothel,” Astarion murmured to Asmodea upon their emerging from the cloakroom.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" she frowned. "I'm happy to deal with the owner myself."

He waved a hand dismissively before responding.

“I will only ask two things of you: make no assumptions, and ask no questions you do not want to know the answers to.” Not waiting for her to respond, and likewise not giving her a chance to voice any more concerns, he sauntered towards a nearby room, sectioned off by a velvet drape.

"The Burrow," he read a plaque at the entrance. "Hmm, let me guess..."

Asmodea had no choice but to follow him as he disappeared behind the curtain.

Her eyes widened as she was immediately greeted by the sight of a splayed pair of legs protruding from a nearby wall at about hip height. The ankles were in restraints, bound to the wall. The rest of the body disappeared behind a window cut-out, concealed by strip curtains. The figure, or at least the visible part of it, wore absolutely nothing but a pair of torn silk stockings.

"...Ah," Asmodea blinked. "Gloryholes. ...Of a kind."

There was an entire row of these holes further along the wall, she now realised, most of them occupied by grunting, thrusting masked men, their trousers gathered unceremoniously at their ankles.

"Harengon holes, they're called," Astarion corrected. "Because harengons-"

"...live in burrows and fuck like rabbits, yes, I've gathered."

Despite herself, she glanced up at Astarion, and, perhaps reading the unasked question in her eyes, he elaborated further.

"If the manor events are run the way I think they are, the participants here are all thrill-seeking guests, not paid staff. Concealed attendants should be keeping an eye on things on both sides, in case anyone doesn't know how to behave."

They passed further along the wall, observing the activities around them. A halfling, scorning a nearby stepladder which must have been provided for those of their stature, simply stood with their face buried between the disembodied legs. A chorus of muffled moans and howls sounded from somewhere beyond the wall.

The scene appeared increasingly more comical the longer Asmodea observed it, and she bit her lip to hold back a titter.

"Shall we move on before we're kicked out..?" Astarion asked, seeing her reaction. "I don't believe this is intended as a comedy show."

They continued on to the next room.

My Kinktober masterlist and prompts post

[unecoccinellenoire]

A change of luck extra snippet? it’s still my favorite fanfic of all time 🙏

Ironically this isn't a fic I had anything to hand for, and while it was pointed out to me the Ladrien storyline in it was never really wrapped up and I do plan to do something for that, have a quick unedited post-fic Gabenath snippet.

"Wait-" Nathalie pulls out of his kiss, "Gabriel, wait. I- I think there's things we need to dicuss again before we go any further."

He frowns. Everything had seemed to go well he'd thought. Her health, Adrien, Ladybug's magnimanity so, "Things? What Things?"

"Earlier." She has that cute line he wants to kiss away before her eyebrows, "Ladybug- when you asked about the risks of getting me pregnant, I don't think she understood what you were getting at at all."

She might well have a point. But, "At least if she didn't then Adrien doesn't."

"Much as I agree I'm not sure Adrien is that naive Gabriel. He knows I sleep in your bedroom."

"Our bedroom." He corrects her.

"OK," but her lips tilt into a little smile. "Our bedroom."

"And I'm sure that my son has the sense and the respect not to think about it."

"hmm. He is your son. But on the other hand, god knows what he read on the internet speculating about what Panthera and Shadow Moth got up to out of sight."

He shuts his eyes and pinches at his nose and tries to forget some of the very interesting storylines he'd come across looking for information about Panthera himself. Things he'd never want his son to see regardless of her being Nathalie.

"That's a wonderful thought to have in my head when I see him tomorrow at breakfast Nathalie. Why would you tell me that? And why wouldn't you block any sites talking about that from his computer?"

"I might have looked a little suspscious if I blocked all speculation about Panthera." She points out sounding annoyingly reasonable in that way she has. "I was already lucky Adrien was more worried for me that about me."

"Adrien loves you. Of course he was. You know you've become another mother to him."

"And that's why we should be thinking of him here."

"I don't follow."

"If I- we, did concieve how would that make Adrien feel? It's not as if we've fixed things with him. He just- just isn't ready to lose us. He needs our attention not a baby sibling that would take that away."

"I'm not unware of how complicated it would make things. Especially with how uncertain your health still is. There's a reason we're not letting nature take it's course here." He'd been the one to ask Ladybug after all.

He knows everything she's saying. They'd agreed this. He doesn't want a baby right now.

And yet for some reason hearing Nathalie make the same arguments outloud he had in his own head has him feeling unmoored somehow. Like there's some empty hollow in his body where his stomach should be.

It worsens at how she's frowning more deeply now and drawing back. "Including the fact that we're only just started dating."

Now he's the own frowning. "Do you really still worry we won't work out?"

"I don't know. This still doesn't even seem real."

The scabbed over injury in his heart wants to break open.

"I love you Nathalie Sancoeur." He promises her, taking her face in his hands. "And I'm very hopeful that one day, when you're ready for it that you'll be Nathalie Agreste, and that perhaps we'll give Adrien that little sibling after all."

Nathalie is very still, and then she blinks and blurts, "I'm sorry- you'd actually want to have a baby with me?"

"Why is that so strange?" He can't help but sound a little offended.

"I mean, we're lucky Adrien doesn't hate us. We're hardly parents of the year are we?"

"Mistakes have been made. I concede that. But we're still beating our parent's aren't we?"

She snorts. "Such a high bar to clear."

Carressing her cheekbone with his thumb he says. "I'm not going to force you my dear. But I thought- after this therapy you and Ladybug are forcing on us, it might be a coversation we'd revisit."

"That's...not crazy. But are you ready for if my answer's still no?"

"I have Adrien. He was always meant to be enough, "and that's true," but..."

Nathalie eyes search his face, "But?"

"You wouldn't feel...I wouldn't want you to feel less than Emilie for us not sharing a child."

"I'm not Emilie. I don't have the same desires as her."

"No. That's becoming strikingly apparent. I'm not going to push you if this is something you don't want. Though there's not much I can do if the Ladybug Miraculous decides otherwise for us."

Nathalie's hands return to where they'd been on his hips before they'd stopped. "I'd cherish any child it gave us. I'm just...it doesn't seem like a good idea, but then I've only got so many years I can change my mind in, and- I don't know. Maybe I'll know once I work everything out."

"We'll work it out." He reminds her.

She smilies again but this time it looks forced. "Together this time."

"Yes." He agrees.

She relaxes against him, "And at least I know you won't be angry if our protection fails. That's one less thing to be worried out."

"You thought I'd be angry?"

"Not at me I don't think. But- maybe. I mean you can't have a child more planned than Adrien."

"And as you've pointed out that's hardly worked out perfectly. No, if the past years have proven anything it's that one has to run with the unplanned. Like a beautiful woman in a suit that shows off every contour of her body."

Nathalie groans. "Please don't remind me of that outfit."

"I liked that outfit." And- he'd

"I'm aware. All of Paris is aware."

"Hmm, and I'm sure most of Paris liked it too. But I'm," he says it with a smirk, "the only one who gets to see you in nothing."

"That's true. And...you could go back to kissing me again now. If you want."

"Now that my dear Nathalie is not even a question."

[tennessoui]

november (and the last) ko-fi: kuwsk!

hello look at me being beautifully almost on time 😇 i have finished and posted the november ko-fi fic on my ko-fi for monthly supporters to read! it was so fun to return to the skywalker-kenobi family in this fic, especially because this one is set after they're together and engaged and in the midst of domestic bliss, which is not a flavor of obikin i generally write (but i should cause they're just silly even when they're ostensibly fighting!!) here's a snippet:

“If you’re seriously upset with me for volunteering to help out with the twins’ school production of a Thanksgiving play, I’m going to need you to say that sentence out loud a couple of times,” Anakin says finally, and Obi-Wan cuts him a scathing look.  “It’s not even going to be historically accurate.” “Baby, you’re not even American.” Obi-Wan sniffs. “That’s besides the point.” “I know you don’t like her, and I’m sure you have your reasons, but it’s for the greater good, yeah? I mean, do you actually trust any of the other parents to build anything else for the twins to stand on or around?” “Michael’s father works in construction,” Obi-Wan points out, raising his mug to his mouth and blowing on it carefully. “And Parker’s mother is an architect.” Anakin shrugs with one shoulder. “You’re sort of intimidatingly neurotic about the twins’ safety, baby. We know this by now.”

so as stated in the title this is gonna be my last ko-fi fic. it has been such a pleasure and a learning experience for me as a writer and y'all have been so supportive during this project - thank you so much to everyone who has subscribed for either a month or the whole year 🙏 i'm going to be deleting my ko-fi account on november 30 because i don't want anyone to accidentally forget to unsubscribe when i won't have a december fic for y'all - so if you've been going back and forth on supporting, do it now and you'll get access to all the fics on my ko-fi (final count: 18 ficlets - and 1 au that's just on ko-fi!!) before i upload them to ao3 in 2025*

and because im deleting my whole ko-fi, i do just want to say thank you to everyone who supported it since i set it up like 3 years ago - y'all are truly just so amazing and i'm constantly happy and content with this lil corner of fandom space in ways i don't know how to articulate even a million words of writing in

*this will be a slow process because of who i am as a writer - if you really want to have continued access to the fics currently on ko-fi, i'd bookmark the google doc they're on because those won't be deleted until the fic is permanently on ao3

[hippolotamus]

WIP Wednesday ☀️

Tagged by the lovely and talented @tizniz @wikiangela @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley @bidisasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @thekristen999 (can't wait to get to all your posted fics and snippets!)

This is not at all what I thought I'd be posting today. But in the course of visiting WIPs through asks the last few days, this one really grabbed me again. Here's the last snippet (and master tag list). It made me cry so now I'm making it your problem, too.

Evan’s voice is shy this time, relieved. Eddie can picture the way he’s cradling his phone, his elbow resting on his other arm wrapped around his middle. The way he’s ducking his chin and his cheeks are probably painted in a rosy blush. It loosens the knot in Eddie’s chest, just the tiniest bit. Enough to ease the mess that’s been tangling together for nearly five years now. “How have you been?” Eddie asks.  “Oh, y’know. Okay. I’m in Arizona now. About eight hours from Tucson.” “Arizona? Wow, you, uh, probably aren’t worried about snow storms then.” “Nope.” Evan pops the ‘p’ and gives a small chuckle. “Can’t say that even breaks the top ten. Haboobs on the other hand… well those are a whole other thing.” Eddie’s just about to ask what the hell a haboob is when Christopher’s piercing shriek fills the air. Eddie whips his head around to look. He rushes over to his son who is a pouting mess of tears and flailing limbs, and pulls him into his arms while still holding the phone between his ear and shoulder. “Sorry about that,” Eddie says once he’s got Chris settled in his arms. He looks over his tiny body for any obvious injuries, and feels along his head and spine, not even sure what exactly he’s looking for. The outburst had been so sudden and Chris hadn’t even been so much as toppled over. But then, as quickly as it started, it recedes again as Chris pops his thumb in his mouth and nuzzles into the crook of Eddie’s neck.  “Is that-” Evan sucks in a shaky breath, cutting himself off.  Eddie’s throat and chest grow tight as realization dawns on him. The reminder of every mistake he’s made – even the ones that gave him his perfect son – sticking like daggers in his heart. Because Evan’s never heard- he doesn’t know. Because he left and was gone. Because Eddie pushed him away and couldn’t be what Evan wanted or needed.  “Christopher,” Eddie says, barely able to keep his voice from breaking. “He’s four now. Almost five.”  “Christopher,” Evan repeats.  An unbearably heavy silence stretches between them, so loud in its intensity that Eddie wishes it would just swallow him whole already. He doesn’t know how much time passes before there’s the sound of shifting and crackling on the other end. “I should, uh, I should go,” Evan rushes out. “It was nice to hear from you again.” “No, Evan, wait-” Eddie pleads, only to be met with more silence as he realizes the call’s been disconnected. Evan’s gone. Again.  In a haze, he lets his phone drop to the floor. He rearranges a now dozing Chris as he numbly settles on the recliner, gently rocking them back and forth. Silently, tears begin to stream down his face and he rocks them faster as if it’ll keep him from shattering and breaking apart completely.

np tagging @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @actuallyitsellie @filet-o-feelings @queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @chaosandwolves @diazsdimples @elvensorceress @epicbuddieficrecs @eowon @fortheloveofbuddie @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @saybiwithme @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @lizzie-bennetdarcy @loserdiaz @loveyouanyway @monsterrae1 @rmd-writes @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @statueinthestone @steadfastsaturnsrings @the-likesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @welcometololaland @your-catfish-friend @slightlyobsessedwitheverything and anyone else who wants to 😘