#or the firefly things

[lottiesmonsters]

Why yes we do need an entire chapter of her being adorable with the tree thing before all the horrible happens and then have her mention him periodically throughout the rest of the book. Don't you know this is a romance now? No, I don't care what she's doing with those mermaids. She's thinking of the tree.

(help me)

[qrbits]

penacony game night! 🍕🎮 (zoom in for a bunch of easter eggs :])

[thedeerus]

it doesn't really have any deep meaning, just remembered that firefly's eng va likes sharks

[dizzybizz]

my brain latched onto ratio in the span a day or two and i am. struggling with that. have a hsr magma dump about it.

these are in reverse chronological order so that it looks like i get more normal as the post goes on (it doesnt)

[spicycinnabun]

“What?” Eddie asked. Steve was laughing his ass off at him for no apparent reason. Eddie narrowed his eyes. “What is it? Steven, you better tell me—or are you such a lightweight that you’re already wasted?”

They were sitting on a blanket in the grass. Around them in the open field, people danced to the music, drank by the fire, smoked, and yelled nonsense.

Steve was only on his first beer, as far as Eddie knew. Hardly seemed enough to get the Keg King tipsy, let alone drunk. No, Steve seemed sober except for the sudden giggle fit at Eddie’s expense.

“Wish I could take a picture of you right now,” Steve said once he calmed down, which wasn’t an answer that made sense at all.

“What the fuck. Why?”

Steve grinned. “Besides the fact that you’re cute as hell—”

Eddie choked on his spit, blushing suddenly and furiously.

“—you’ve got a bunch of fireflies in your hair.”

Unbeknownst to Eddie, several of them had landed on him and nested in his curls, blinking light at odd intervals and making him look like a human Christmas tree.

pt. 2 🔥🪰

[flambo19]

I liked the little Hanu section with Firefly in 2.2

[relaxtimestwo]

⋆｡˚ Stelle x Firefly ⋆｡˚

Started off as pose practice with the galactic baseballer but I wound up drawing a page with the two of them (featuring brother hanu).

I absolutely love Firefly's design! You really start to appreciate the details when you're forced to draw them;;; It's so cool how her firefly and hourglass theme works so well with her backstory and role in the story so far.

references for three of the poses

[choccy-milky]

seb vs. clora's Childhood Friend™️ 😇🥰 ((from my new chap! ao3/wattpad))

[deerspherestudios]

Congratulations on getting married, you and your spouse have a long and wonderful marriage!!!! All the best wishes!!!!

Thank you so much!!! I can't believe it's already been a full week since the ceremony; it's strange how things feel different yet the same somehow, even after 6 years of being together before making it offical. He's moved in since then, and we still feel like it's a dream haha! ❤️

Anyhoo, I'll cut the sappy irl stuff short! I just wanted to make a cute little doodle before the queue starts up again! Production on MO will begin once more! 🍄

[bugthingsdaily]

today's bug thing are these world of eric carle band aids!

[hyunpic]

💗💓💘💖💓💗💓💖💖💖💞💓💗💗💖💕

[endlesslytired]

[spooky-activity]

-Stellaron Hunter SAM music intensifies-

First

Previous

Next

[usercelestial]

What if Evan Buckley decides fuck it I quit my job because nothing makes me happy anymore and opens a bakery and then Tommy starts ordering pastries from him for the 217 and they finally reconcile after buck makes him the best damn chocolate muffins Tommy's ever eaten

Tommy's been ordering from this bakery for the last five years. After he was promoted to captain of the 217, he made it a point to bring in treats to win over his old coworkers turned employees. He orders a couple dozen muffins once every week to keep people happy. Originally, it was supposed to be one time but goddamn if they weren't the best damn muffins Tommy's ever had. His crew was happy enough with the incentive and it became somewhat of a tradition at Harbor that a delivery boy would show up at their door with a few pristine white boxes to hand over to Captain Kinard. 

Five years and he's never had a problem getting the pastries delivered on time. Early in the morning of the day of delivery, before the sun even came up, he got an email explaining that his delivery had been cancelled and a refund had been processed. 

"Shit," Tommy wipes the sleep from his eyes and sits up. He has to get to work in a few hours and he knows his crew well enough to know how cranky they'd be if they had nothing to start the morning with. He fumbles out of bed, throws on his clothes, and heads down to the bakery to see what he can do. 

It's a little place not too far from Harbor. It's called something like Emergency Eats, it has a cliche first responder theme. First responders get a 15 percent off discount with each order so the weekly spending makes it a little worth it. 

Tommy rushes inside, the sun barely having risen and the cold morning air settling on his skin. The bakery is light and warm around him. It feels like one of those places someone would call home. The decor stays true to the theme and centers firefighters. On the wall behind the counter, there's a mural of a fire station. Along the wall in the dining area, there are pictures of different first responders. He recognizes Athena in one and smiles to himself. The tiles are black and white checkered and there's even a fire pole standing next to the counter. He walks up to it and rings the gaudy bell that hangs from the ceiling that says “pull for service” despite the immense amount of cringe he feels while doing it. 

“Be right there!” 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

He knows that voice. He’s spent five years thinking about this voice, dreaming about it, being haunted by it. He’s spent five years feeling terrified of hearing it on the radio, at an emergency, on the street. 

Evan Buckley walks through the curtain that covers the entrance to the kitchen, holding a tray of pink and white colored cookies. 

“Oh fuck,” Buck’s face goes ghostly white and his knuckles strain to keep grip on the tray. 

The room is still and quiet in the soft morning glow. The black and white tiles are painted with the delicate shadows casted from the trees lining the sidewalk. The two men breathe the same air and let the shock wash over them. 

Tommy isn’t allowed to break the silence first. He relinquished that right when he walked out of Buck’s life five years ago. Buck seems to pick up on the fragile air between them and breaks the quiet for the both of them, “Are you here about your muffins?” He sounds apologetic, maybe a little weak. 

“Uh,” Tommy kicks up invisible dust on the ground, “Yeah, I was gonna see if I could order something else if you’re out of the ones I normally order.” 

“Okay, listen, I’m sorry about the delivery mishap, it’s just that normally I have more people delivering but most of them are out sick and I’ve been so busy lately and I just-” 

Buck continues babbling while Tommy only half listens, questions burning in throat. 

“Is this your shop?” Tommy interrupts. 

Buck’s face dances between expressions before landing on surprised, “I thought you-” he cuts himself off and shakes his head, “Yeah. Yeah, this is my shop.” 

“You're not at the 118 anymore? You're-you’re not a firefighter?” 

Buck glanced down at his feet and puts the tray of cookies down on the counter. He takes a deep breath and speaks, “I thought maybe Eddie or Chimney would have told you.” 

Tommy furrows his brows, “We don't talk that much about-” he swallows, “you know…” About Buck. About them. About the breakup. He hasn't heard a word about Buck in five years. He hasn't even heard his name. 

“Yeah,” Buck nods his understanding. 

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees. 

“Um, yeah, this is my shop,” Buck continues, “I opened it about five years ago. A few months after.” 

They're dancing around saying it. Tommy's not sure how much longer they can keep this up for. 

“Why’d you quit?” Tommy asks. That's the question at the center of this whole thing. Why, why, why. 

Buck blinks, like he’s got something at the tip of his tongue but it caught between his teeth, “Few reasons.” He looks down at his legs again, “Uh, I got into an accident a while back. It took me out of the field for a while and I-” Buck stops and searched for the words, “I couldn't think of many reasons to go back to how things were before so I figured it was time for a fresh start.” 

Tommy lets the information wash over him. He can't imagine Buck being content with being out of the field but this bakery- it's tribute to first responders, it's pictures on the wall of smiling firefighters and dispatch operators- it's peaceful. It's like he’s found the happiest middle ground possible. 

“P-plus, I teach on the side,” Buck adds like an afterthought, “Part time, it's good money. Only have class a few days a week so it gives me time to run the bakery and keep business up.” 

Tommy smiles at that. Buck was always a busy-body, constantly needing to be moving in order to stay stimulated. Without being a firefighter, Tommy had wondered how he manages with all the extra free time but of course Buck would fill the days however he could. He’s never been sedentary and he won't start now. 

“Sounds like you've been busy,” Tommy comments lamely. Like he's a stranger. Like this is just small talk. It's almost nice. The small talk- pretending these small intimacies are something he still gets to enjoy. 

A moment passes before Buck claps his hands, “Your muffins!” He disappears into the kitchen and bustles around. Tommy can see his shadow passing through the window in the center of the wall. 

When Buck re-emerges, he’s holding the signature box of muffins that gets delivered to his station. “For you. We had them, it's just that I couldn't get them to you. Sorry about that.” 

Tommy shakes his head and steps forward to grab them, “No, don't worry about it. They're just for my crew, I’m the captain now and I’m trying to keep everyone happy.” 

“Captain?” Buck quirks an eyebrow, tilts his head, and smirks. Tommy's heart hurts. “You've been busy too.” 

“You could say that,” Tommy tries not to overthink whether or not it sounds like he’s flirting. He doesn't know if he intends it or not. Instead he focuses on the way Buck ducks his head and hides his smile. Tommy feels like a wrong move here is going to cost him. He wants to be delicate, he wants to flirt, he wants to friend-zone him, he wants to reach across the counter and pull him in and never let him go. It's been five years, it's been seconds, it's been no time at all. Seeing Buck again feels like taking your first breath after being underwater for too long. His lungs are burning. The right thing to do is to keep burning. It's selfish to do anything else. To gasp for breath the way he wants to. But- 

“Listen, Buck, if it's easier on you guys,” Tommy mentally flays himself for starting the sentence, “I could swing by in person instead. So you don't have to worry about delivering to us.” 

Buck considers him. Tommy waits for him to say what they both already know. That it’s not a good idea, they should lose contact, forget each other. 

Buck sucks his teeth. Suddenly, Tommy feels a wall rise between them. Then he exhales and says, “On one condition.” 

Tommy shrugs, keeping himself nonchalant, “Of course.” Anything, obviously, I’d do anything. 

“You can't call me Buck. It’s Evan or nothing” 

Every alarm is going off in his head. Red, blaring sirens that have always told when to run sing through his skull and fall on deaf ears. 

“I can do that, Evan.” 

Evan smiles. For the time, the smile finally reaches his eyes. They twinkle like they used to. This is such a bad idea. 

“Same time next week?” Tommy holds the basket with one hand and does finger guns with the other. He’ll never stop embarrassing himself. 

“You know where to find me,” Evan leans against the wall, blue apron tied cutely around his waist. There's a pink tint to his cheeks that Tommy tries not to read into. Gentle is the name of the game and he’s trying not to let himself expect anything he shouldn't. They're just two old friends catching up once a week. Tommy's just a customer in Evan’s shop. They hardly know each other anymore. 

Maybe they’ll get to know each other better than before he cut loose and ran. Or maybe Tommy will just become a recurring customer. He’s nervous to find out which. Either way, he leaves the shop far too excited for the week to come to an end. His crew comment on his quote-unquote glowing cheeks and far off look in his eyes. 

Picking up muffins becomes Tommy’s favorite part of the week. 

[sporkkles-irl]

i like drawing stupid shit on occasion

[missescalientee]

Wanted to draw a bunch of troll OC's and decided to do something I like to call Oc roulette, where I find and then draw a few at mostly random (I've wanted to draw some of them already hehe) from left to right the creators of these OC's are:

@/Podkidysh10 (you can find their art on insta!)

@funktrolls

@leahlozers-blog

@sunberies

@spooky-pop

@v-poreons

@/az.althea01 (you can find their art on insta!!)

@jennjamindraws

Hope I did em justice for ya!!

Little guys on their own: