#they’re so messy

[mxmarsbars]

heartbreak trio?? nah that’s sleepy trio 💤✨

here’s the trend btw ^_^ to me etho and impulse are pretty interchange but bdubs is heart boxers period I do make the rules actually

plus it gave me an excuse to draw impulse in a frilly pink robe which was fun (I actually kinda like how it turned out :,])

[a-risk-to-take]

I was overcome by the need to draw this scene from behind and yep just as I suspected they are ridiculous and gay

[thecobrah]

Traditional doodles done in school

[amingethia]

Sparkly trans flag nails update.

[megslovesbooks]

Fuck it Friday

tagged by the incomparable @elvensorceress (jenwyn wtfffffff!?!? that sneak peak. i’m obsessed)

here’s something i banged out this morning when I should have been working. i wanted to finish it tonight but therapy kinda took me out at the knees this afternoon so it’ll be later. it’s spec fic for monday though so i’ll try to get it up this weekend. (this is too long and messy but 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️)

It's been three hours and Eddie still won't look at him.

The first two were spent getting checked out at the hospital (even though he’d TOLD them he hadn’t actually been hit, just sorta knocked over) and getting the road rash on his hands and face cleaned and bandaged. It had been hard to tell then if something was really up because there had been so much light and noise and activity it had been difficult to focus on much of anything. Eddie had been there, like he always was, a solid presence in the midst of nurses and questions and instructions to keep his gauze clean before he was sent on his way, but he’d been quiet, really only speaking to the nurse or if asked a direct question. And maybe it was a little odd because usually they’d fill the moments between with snarky jokes or small talk about Christopher, but Buck hadn’t really thought much about it until Eddie had taken the discharge papers wordlessly out of his hands and started walking towards the parking lot without a backwards glance.

So here they are, back at the station as the last hour of their shift ticks down, Buck upstairs helping Hen set the table for breakfast with clumsy, bandaged hands, while Bobby finishes the food, and Eddie is–somewhere else. Buck keeps looking over to the stairs, trying to manifest the top of his head as it climbs into sight.

It doesn't work.

“Give him some time, Buck.” Bobby says, setting a steaming bowl of scrambled eggs in the middle of the table. They’ve already had the ‘that was reckless’ talk, but it had been mild. Buck can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not, he’d tried to get a read on what Bobby had been thinking but mostly his captain had just seemed tired. Buck’s tired all the time too these days.

“I just don’t know what the big deal is. Nothing happened.” Buck says, and he can tell it comes out a little petulant, but he doesn't really care.

“That’s debatable.” says Hen, but before he can protest yet again that he’s fine she continues. “From our angle it looked bad, Buck.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“But it could have been.”

They stand there staring at each other across the table and Buck can understand what she’s saying to him, he’s been on the sidelines plenty when it looked like things were going south, but that doesn't stop the irritation that’s rising up the back of his throat.

“But it wasn’t.” He says again, frustration making his tone sharp. “I’m fine, and Eddie is sulking like I broke his favorite toy or something.”

Hen’s eyebrows rise so far up her forehead that for a second Buck thinks they’re going to detach entirely, like the old cartoon characters Chris has developed such a love for.

“What?” He snaps, too worn out for any of this, he just wants to go home.

“Alright.” Bobby says, “It's time to eat, B shift is coming in a little early since we’re a man down. Hen, go let everyone know will you please?” Hen just nods and heads for the stairs. Buck sighs and flops himself down into a chair, staring morosely at the spread of food in front of him. Bobby makes no attempt to start a conversation and it only takes a moment before the silence is too much.

‘How’s Chim doing?” Buck asks, mostly because he wants to know, but partly because there’s something hot and uncomfortable buzzing around inside his head and he doesn't want to think about it.

“He’ll be fine, it’s a mild concussion but the doctor wants to keep him for a few more hours just in case. I think Hen’s going to head over after shift, give Maddie a break.”

“That’s good.” There’s another silent stretch before he looks up to meet Bobby’s eyes. “I really wasn’t trying to be…” his words taper out because he’s not entirely sure what the end of that sentence is. Reckless? Foolish? Something else, a bigger, darker word dances just at the edges of his thoughts and he shoves it away hard.

Bobby looks at him with unreadable eyes, then his expression softens and he reaches out to squeeze Buck’s shoulder.

“I know.” he says, “It's gonna be ok kid.”

There is a general commotion on the stairs as the rest of A shift trudges up to eat and the rest of the hours is taken up with a rumble of chatter and the clatter of silverware on plates.

Eddie doesn't show.

Buck half expects to find him already gone by the time breakfast is finished and the loft is squared away, but as he comes down the stairs he can see into the locker room and there Eddie is, already dressed in his civilian clothes, sitting on the bench. His phone is held loosely in one hand but his gaze is locked somewhere in the middle distance. He looks sad and it makes something in Buck's chest ache. Johnson is the first one in the room to change before Buck is even half way down the stairs. Eddie jolts a little, then smiles half heartedly at something Johnson says before pushing himself to his feet. By the time Buck makes it into the room Eddie’s head is buried in his locker, and when Buck comes back out from changing himself, Eddie is nowhere to be seen again. Disappointment and irritation get tangled up inside his throat. Fine. Let Eddie avoid him. All Buck needs is to get the hell out of here and back to the loft where he can hunker down and hide in peace. He just wants to disappear for the next 48 hours, drop into the weightlessness of ceasing to exist long enough to catch his breath. He makes his way out of the station as quickly as he can, blinking as he steps into the early morning sunshine.

Eddie is still here, leaning against the driver’s side door of the Jeep, a kind of steely determination on his face, like he’s already in the middle of an argument they haven’t even started yet.

“I’m driving you home.” he says the moment Buck is within earshot. That same old irritation flashes hot behind Buck’s breast bone, a fuse that’s been too short for weeks.

“I’m fine Eddie.” he says, voice clipped even to his own ears, “Don’t trouble yourself.” This is where he’d just get into the jeep and go…except Eddie is still leaning on the door, blocking his access. On purpose. The bastard.

“Look.” Buck says, “I know you’re pissed at me. Let’s just call it a day huh? I don’t want to fight.” Except that’s not entirely true, he feels like he’s been spoiling for a fight for hours, maybe days. Back there, on that rainslicked street, as he’d watched that driver peel away with Chim in the car, the thing that had filled up his chest so tight he couldn’t breathe hadn’t been fear, or adrenaline, or even reckless abandon. It had been anger. A rage so white hot, Buck isn’t sure what would have happened if he’d caught up to the driver in a way that hadn’t landed him on his back in the street. The thought rattles him now. Then–

“Right.” Eddie says, eyes still narrowed. “Because you’re fine to drive yourself.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Without warning Eddie tosses his own keys in Buck’s direction. It's a gentle throw, a tall, clear arc that should give him plenty of time to reach out and snag with no trouble. But Buck's hands are stiff and sore, and hampered by the gauze wrapped around them, and he misses the catch by a mile.

Eddie makes no comment besides an arched eyebrow that might as well be a neon sign, then pushes himself off the jeep and walks over to scoop up his keys, holding out a hand as he straightens.

i think most people have been tagged at this point but please do let me know if you want a tag! i love reading people’s work!

[steviesays]

She said I can’t believe scully is down bad enough to ruin her career

[lunimy]

woo!! swap thingys

[starspilli]

dc cowboy doodles & wips !

[bellwethers]

Boo hoo did someone use spirit magic to blow up your factory?

[swept-you-out-again]

x

[ciearcab]

red and green

[sensitiveheartless]

Chuuya Week Day 3: Found Family

(Or, Adam and the three messy teenagers he’s taken under his wing)

[tiklart]

Lil sketchy sketch of my silly lil kids 🥺👉👈

[toastwithahat]

my stylus is aprt of me now,,

[spoopdeedoop]

more mei and mk tomfoolery for my friend red

[under-lok-n-ki]

the viking hairdos are rlly doing something for me I love that they did that