Has Love ever held Bug for Birdie for any reason and has Ghost seen her if she did? I just want to watch Professor Ghost have a moment when he sees how sweet Love is with a baby.
Love and Birdie don't have many opportunities to cross paths, HOWEVER, you're so so right about Ghost seeing Love with a baby bestie and I'm going to make it happen.
Ghost follows after Gaz, the two men discussing last night's footie match as they weave through the education department's halls.
"You coming for dinner?" Gaz asks, "Soap's already invited himself."
"Not doin' anything else," Ghost hums, eyes scanning the various posters pinned around the halls. Children's drawings and calls for volunteers, internship opportunities. The education building has always given him a sort of squirmy feeling in his stomach. He can't help but think about his nephew, what grade he'd be going into, whether he'd be doing well. Gaz smacks his chest to pull him from his thoughts.
"Giving you a ride, may as well stay." Gaz grins, and Ghost rolls his eyes.
"Just don't go handing me the baby again," Ghost tells him as they turn the corner to Birdie's office. Ghost stops short, gaze sticking to Love as soon as he sees her. Gaz grabs his shoulder to stop him from turning around.
Love smiles, grins really, lighting up the hallway as Birdie chatters away about something. She's bouncing Gaz's baby in her arms, the infant's head tucks against her shoulder as she rocks and bounces. Birdie spots them and waves, Ghost has to force his feet to carry him forward as Gaz drags him into the thick of it. There's not much that scares Ghost, but babies? Terrifying. His eyes stick to Bug, the tiny thing has their fingers wrapped around Love's necklace, the rest of them lax and sleeping against her shoulder.
Birdie says something and Ghost grunts, his eyes moving from the baby back to the woman holding them. Love glances at him, cooing softly at Bug when they start to fuss. When he'd thought about marriage he hadn't imagined kids. There were certain things, specific dreams, that always seemed off limits to him, parts of the Riley lineage that were cursed. It had felt like a noble sacrifice to have the name die with him.
But there was Love, there was a baby, a future, sleeping under her gentle hand, and there was a warmth in Ghost's chest that he hadn't felt before. "You like kids?" He asks. Gaz and Birdie discussing evening plans beside them hardly seem to hear the question.
"They're alright," Love hums, "I never think I want any until someone puts a baby in my arms, then it's like all bets are off." She laughs, the motion of it hardly jostling the infant. Ghost watches the way her hand smooths over Bug's back, gentling every soft breath the infant takes. "What about you?"
"What about me?" The question catches him off guard. Love raises her brows.
"Do you like kids?" She bites down her teasing smile, her teeth tugging at her lip. Charming, every inch of her seems tailor made to tug at his heart. Ghost reaches to uncurl Bug's tight fist, easing the chain of her necklace out of the baby's grip.
"This one's ok," Ghost supplies, settling the necklace back against Love's chest, "Liked my nephew."
"It's easier when they're your kids," She tilts her head for him, her skin prickling at the touch of his fingers. Ghost wonders if his hands are that cold. He hums.
"It is."
"Do you want kids?" Love asks. Ghost's eyes dart to her face, she isn't looking at him. Ghost looks at the baby, glances at the way Birdie smiles and leans in to kiss Gaz, a picture of familial bliss.
"I didn't used to," Ghost answers after a moment. That feels like the truth. He didn't used to, he didn't think about them, but now all he can think of is Love and babies: how pretty she'd be with one of his on her hip, what they'd look like, if they'd have his hair or if they'd have her eyes. If they were with her... maybe he does want kids.
He should start looking at houses again. They're going to need a yard, and more than just the main/guest bedrooms. He could do it. What's one kid?
Actually one kid might get lonely, things were always better when he had Tommy.
What's two kids?
Unless they're fighting.
Ok, three kids. Three kids, Ghost can handle three kids if they're hers too.
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Au where Jason never came back (if it's because he found a place in the infinity realm or smth different is up to you)
One day, dick, Tim and Damian are just walking, dick walking backwards to chat with his brothers when at a corner, he runs into someone
It's a bit of a mess with both nearly falling and then trying to help the other, dick opens his mouth to apologize but freezes
The other guy looks at them awkwardly before excusing himself. But just as he was about to leave, dicks hand shoots out and grabs him
His voice shakes, a mix between haunted and hopeful
"Jason? Jay?"
Tim also stepped forward at this point, eyes shaking, Damian is confused
"Sorry? No, I'm Danny"
He leaves but the rest of the family swears to find him again, because that has to be jason
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Day 3: Marriage/ Tears
I decided to go with tears, my mind immediately went to that one scene in the finale, it’s clear that Optimus is distraught over Megaton’s death but it’s like totally skipped over
I thought it would be neat to give him a stereotypical shot of a single tear falling down the characters face. Long ago I saw someone depicting cybertronian tears as this vaguely energon looking substance and just ran with it 🤷
Here’s the lineart and a little sketch of me bothering Optimus
Below there’s a snippet that describes the illustration 👍
Optimus watched Megatron's body fall in disbelief. His battle mask slipping away as a tide wave of pain and grief overtook him.
Megatron died.
His enemy, his…, his other half was gone and with him a piece of his spark. Liquid formed in his optics and fell down his cheeks, the Prime cried for the first time in eons
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‘potent,’ would be a good way to describe him, you think. Ajax is potent. not a thing he does is half-assed or without full dedication. if he wants to rule the world, he reasons, not a flaw should show for it. cooking, fighting, loving; he’s dedicated.
this shows in every way he grabs your hips. palms rough with callouses and nails bitten back enough you fear it hurts, Ajax grips the fat of your hips with greedy hands. he’s all teeth some nights, others he’s covered tongue; sheathed much like a blade. of all ways he can take you, none are without that same edge of disparity and skill. occasionally a weathered pocket watch appears, counting until he has you unraveling on his tongue or how long you last while he’s hilt deep. he’d make a scoreboard if you let him but, there’s no point. Ajax would be first, second, third, and consolation prize. an amalgamation of victories, really. his only competition is himself yet he’s always hellbent on outdoing; fruitless, in part. nonetheless, he fucks you with equal vigour as he loves, potent.
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