#really really happy with how its going so far

[krokonoko]

okay so a couple more nuanced thoughts about the whole JayVik thing

if you're not satisfied with the ending we got for them, I get it.

I know ppl have been handing this around celebrating that all the queers get something in Arcane but. I mean, MAN if this lineup isn't a perfect illustration of where there's still work to be done when it comes to equal treatment of queer relationships in media.

but at the same time, personally, I'm still mostly satisfied with what we got. and not because of "let men be platonic friends". cause jfc how often do we have to say it: they are never anything BUT platonic friends. "the moment is stronger because it's platonic" look, as a whole ass aspec person: shut. the moment would not have been cheapened by a queer kiss. but I digress.

the reason I'm alright with this might be because I expected worse. like, way worse. that, and also this moment did not feel cynical to me, or queerbait-y, or like it was trying to satisfy all sides. it felt very earnest to me.

and I haven't kept up with creator interviews or anything, but from what I've gathered, there seems to have been a certain. lack of unity? when it comes to how the different parties viewed the relationship between JayVik, starting with LoL's notorious reluctance to confirm male characters' queerness, and ending with statements from writers and staff being pretty contradictory when it comes to these two.

so personally, this looks to me like a situation that might be a bit similar to Korrasami. it's giving "we all know what this is, but this is as far as we can/are willing to go."

do I still think that's kind of unfair? yeah.

do I have a couple other gripes with Arcane, and esp its ending? you know it! (mostly as in. Jinx is not really dead. right? you can't be fr about that.)

but when I add everything up, I'm walking out of this with a very positive tally. and that includes JayVik. and I think recognizing that there's still work to be done is important, but I also think if you're handed one of the most epic queer love stories in history, even if it doesn't dare speak its name, it's alright to be happy about it!

[thcophagy]

while he was likely coming across as more mature and lived than she was, oz could relate to how frankie felt in that moment. he remembered how open the world had felt once he'd lost his virginity, no longer tied down to the worries and expectations held for years over what his first time was supposed to be like. things were rarely as scary as people made them in their heads, they were also not as enjoyment as they might've hoped but either way, you could never know how you'd feel about something until you took the plunge. he felt strangely proud of frankie, he'd known her for such a short amount of time and yet she'd taken a big step, it was thanks to his guidance and perhaps a touch of manipulation but she seemed happy enough; however she felt the next morning, oz was content in the knowledge he'd helped someone towards their freedom and wasn't that what all the poets and writers he loved fought to do? she was always pretty but her orgasm had brought a warm glow over her that oz found intoxicating. it made him want to push further and explore all the other ways to get her off, if riding his thigh had gotten her so hot then he was certain he could work wonders with his mouth or fingers. they'd have to find time for that some other night because there was no way oz was going to bat her hand away from him, not when her clumsy and hesitant touch felt so surprisingly good. he couldn't help but snort in amusement at how eager she was to prove himself to him; he wasn't in need of an ego boost but he wasn't about to turn one down. with past lovers he had developed a tendency to try and urge them to place him above themselves, even with the more strong-willed and like-minded individuals he'd pursued. he wanted to be seen as something special, someone worthy of the level of praise he yearned for and so far, it looked like frankie was capable of giving him that and tenfold. "you're sweet." he really hadn't needed to do much to win her over. his flirtatious had came at first as little more than instinct, a default he fell to when met with a pretty girl and she had fallen for it harder than he would've ever expected. now here she was, desperately trying to reason with him to allow her the chance to jerk him off. the night couldn't have gotten better if he'd written it out in prose. "okay. you can have whatever you want." he meant it too, for that moment at least. he made no fuss in trying to help her undo his jeans, some bravery was required and he couldn't coddle her more than he already had, both because she'd never gain the required confidence if he did and because it wasn't in his instincts to do so. once her hand had wormed its way into his pants and wrapped around his cock, oz's hips twitched and he exhaled a wobbly sigh, one he tried to hold back but ended up being huffed out of his nose. it would've been hard to miss the look of apprehension across frankie's face, he could only hope that it was due to her inexperience and not because of a sudden wash of regret. "it's okay." he reached out and brushed a stray curl away from her face and let his hand settle around the back of her skull, cradling her as gently as he could. "your hand feels good. keep going." a little dry, nothing that they couldn't fix with a little spit, plus he'd been leaking steadily throughout watching her grind against him so her touch wasn't a painful one. "take it slow at first, yeah? up and down, from the bottom right to the tip."

as a child, frankie had spent most of her time either alone or surrounded by her parents and other adults, which led her to feel as though she was wise beyond her years. her parents' friends and colleagues loved to tell her that, marveling over how mature she was for her age and claiming she must've been an old soul, so she couldn't help but take it to heart. all through her adolescence she'd felt as though she couldn't connect with her peers because her intellectual development was far beyond theirs, but as she transitioned into adulthood, she'd begun to see just how much she'd missed out on in terms of social milestones, and now she felt more childish than ever. this experience with oz was helping her feel how a twenty year old woman was meant to feel, all the reckless giddiness that came with exploring a new connection, and maybe it was only happening because she was drunk, but wasn't that all the more fitting? she felt reassured by him, comforted to the point where she wasn't tempted to flee from his home and never show her face in public again, a warmth blooming in her chest not from the product of arousal, but that of affection. "yeah... i dunno how to describe it, it was... i dunno." her cheeks were a soft pink, still barely able to meet his eyes from how bashful she felt trying to describe her feelings on the matter. "it's just different experiencing it with someone else, i guess." there was something about being seen as a sexual being, being perceived while in the throes of pleasure and hopefully contributing to their own that really intensified whatever she may be feeling. no matter what happened with them in the future, she would always remember the way he felt beneath her, the way he looked at her with lust in his eyes, the raspy tone of his voice egging her on as she chased her own climax. it was something she didn't think she'd ever get tired of, already imagining what it would be like to take things further, though she knew she shouldn't get ahead of herself. he certainly hadn't given her any indication that this would only be a one time thing, though— she couldn't imagine how anyone could speak such words of flattery with no intention to see her again. "well i'm really grateful... for everything." she assured him, making sure to catch his eye so he could see she was earnest before he became distracted by her hand clumsily fumbling over his erection. her lips curled into a grin once he lifted his attention back to her, nodding eagerly and pressing her hand a little harder over him. "i do want to," she insisted. "and i'm a really quick learner, so... you won't have to hold my hand the whole time." part of it was a desire to prove herself to him, making sure he knew she had something of value to offer him, but she also wanted to prove to herself that she was worthy of his attention. if it was all one sided, she'd no doubt feel inadequate, but providing him with the same enjoyment he'd given her would ensure that they were on equal standing. with his hand over hers, she felt a bit more confident, fondling the outline of his cock over his jeans and getting a good idea of the shape of him. with this bout of boldness, she used her other hand to pop open the button of his jeans and drag down the zipper, checking in with him for a moment before she wiggled out from under his grasp and slipped her way into his pants to dip beneath the waistband of his underwear and grip him fully. finally feeling the warmth of his bare cock, her confidence faltered, eyes widening slightly while she paused with her fingers wrapped around him, wanting to make sure she had his permission before she went any further.

[rockscanfly]

@noshirdalal's cameo response to the following prompt:

Before the gang breaks apart and Arthur gets sick, what does a happy future look like to Charles? Has he ever even thought that far ahead at that point? Based off the scene in Shady Belle at the campfire when he discusses how trapped he feels in the cycle of violence that's been his life up until that point, Charles has struggled with thoughts of suicide in the past. Is there a point before the end of the epilogue where he's found hope? Charles seems the type of person to throw himself into becoming whatever the people he cares about needs in that moment. Before leaving Beecher's Hope for Canada, is there something he's wanted for himself?

Once again, Noshir blew my expectations out of the water and left me with even more questions than before. Does Charles hesitate to start a family when he hears what happened to the Marstons? Does he end up tracking down Jack, picking up yet another obligation from a fallen brother?

Does he ever find a way from under the curse he believes follows him, or does John's death and Jack's heel-turn into the life finally crush that hope out of him? Is that when Sadie re-enters his life?

I'm so grateful Noshir opened up his cameo to talk about Charles and his headcanons and I encourage everyone else to go throw questions of their own his way.

Full transcript of the video below the read more:

(/transcript start) Rocks, hi! What a beautiful question, and I’ve been thinking about my answer a lot. 

So, you’re right. I mean, Charles has had a really hard life. A really hard life. You know, the people dearest to him when he was little were either taken from him or completely failed him. And his life has been hard ever since. And I think that he’s done a lot of stuff that he’s not proud of in an effort to survive and to find his way. And violence is always kind of peering over his shoulder. You know, he can feel it there. 

But for all that, I would actually counter that the central pillar of who Charles is, like the thing that makes him who he is—is hope. 

I read somewhere once that true courage is having the worst day of your life and putting your head on the pillow and telling yourself ‘tomorrow will be better’. I think Charles has had many, many, many nights like that. 

Because I think that if he didn’t have that hope he would despair. And then I think he would surrender to the, you know. Kind of base urge to just do whatever you need to to come out on top. And I think if Charles ever felt that he’d be a terrifying dude. A terrifying guy. And I think he fights that urge every day. 

That’s really astute what you said about, kind of you know, he—he kind of takes on and fulfills whatever role it is the people around him need him to be. I think that’s very fair to say. And I think we most see that in Beecher’s Hope. 

Because, Charles’ best friend gives up his life to ensure that John has the chance at a new life. And I think when Charles learns how things went down he doesn’t even really kind of consciously register, but he just picks up that, that obligation, right? He inherits it from his friend where he fell and vows to see it through. 

And so he does, you know, he helps John build a home and a new life, right, a new start. 

Imagine everything they’ve been through, all the things they’ve done, and then having the audacity. The courage to say, you know, no, I’m not gonna. I’m not gonna let my son be a part of this cycle. I’m gonna break this chain and give him the chance to know an honest hard day’s work without ever looking over his shoulder for the law or the people that he’s wronged. 

I think Charles would do everything in his power to help John realize that life because if he can help John do that it means that its possible for him as well. And I think he leaves Beecher’s Hope fully convinced that, like. They’ve done it. If John can walk this path, like. Jack will never know a life like Charles and John and Arthur knew. What a gift. 

Charles’ father may have failed him. But in John, Charles gets to see what a father could be. And in his own way he gets to be a, a part of that. 

So I think he, he leaves Beecher’s Hope and heads to Canada thinking, you know: ‘Maybe I can do it, too. I can go somewhere where no knows me, find my people, and tomorrow will be better.’

Which is probably why it just kills me that at some point he would hear about what happened to John. 

‘Cause, I think, for all that hope Charles has a really hard time with being happy and with being at peace. I think when things are good with the gang is when Charles is most nervous, because that other shoe is gonna drop, right? That's how his life has always gone. When things go well, disaster is right around the corner. And so I, I’m sure like, when literally like when the gang is celebrating I think Charles oftentimes isn’t there because he’s off walking the perimeter or scouting around. He’s literally looking for that storm that’s coming. It's just in his nature. 

Oh, it would break his heart to know that everything Arthur did, everything he did, everything John did to keep Jack out of it—it wasn’t enough. 

(/transcript end)

[kkcauseway]

Time Is Of The Essence

Joel Miller x pregnant f!reader

Summary: Joel's on a patrol when you go into labour and ends up missing the birth of his daughter. But it doesn't take him long to get back and the aftermath is so frigin cute! Content/warnings: aftermath of childbirth- talks of placenta. Its just full of a load of rootin' tootin' fluff- honestly I'm obsessed with daddy Joel Miller he's adorable. Joel Miller being the best dad to his new baby. Joel Miller having such big palms that the baby basically fits in one. After outbreak, no use of y/n. A/N: I am obsessed with this fic oh my god!!! Also fun fact when i decided on the baby name I wasn't originally going to go for it but when I googled names meaning hope it was the first to appear and I knew it was a sign, and really I think it makes the fic ten times cuter! I really really hope you enjoy!!

Going into labour whilst Joel is out on patrol is the last thing that’s supposed to happen. He’s not meant to miss the birth of his child; part of the reason he is the man he is today. Part of the reason he’s finally stopped beating himself up and allowed himself to have a normal life. To be happy. He deserves it too and you’ve always made sure he knows it.

They’d already been out on patrol for a while when your waters suddenly broke and as much as you tried radioing it was to no avail, they were too far out to catch a signal, so it was very much a waiting game. Thankfully, you had Maria at your side, and she aided you through every part, the best kind of birthing partner with her having not long gone through it when she had her and Tommy’s son.

The baby comes fast all in all your labour is maybe only four hours, and when word finally got to Joel that he needed to come back him, and Tommy raced to make it.

Joel rushes in the door “I’m here I’m here!” He screams running over to where you’re lay on the couch still with your legs apart the baby screaming in your arms freshly wrapped having only been on the earth a few minutes. Sweat is dripping down your face as you coo at the bundle, Maria is behind you peering at the baby over your shoulder.

You’re still crying reeling from the fact your baby is finally here as you grin so wide at him, and he kneels on the floor next to you.

“Oh my god” he lifts his hand to brush over his new babies head.

“Daddy, meet your daughter.”

“S’a girl?” He chokes on the words and turns to look at you his eyes glossy.

“Yeah baby.” You nod trying your best to hold it back.

But when a few tears escape him, you can’t help the way you’re bawling again. You know how difficult this is for him, opening his heart up to another child.

You continue to support your daughter in one arm bringing the hand of the other up to brush away the tears and he closes his eyes leaning into the touch as he lets the floodgates fully open. Not a care in the world that Tommy and Maria are present. He leans in close to your chest tears dropping off the tip of his nose as he stares down at the now calm bundle of joy who’s freshly opening her eyes and staring right back up to him. Her tiny feet kicking out of the end of the blanket and he’s absolutely enthralled with her.

The nurse, Cassie who’s just finished sanitising a few things in the kitchen comes back and smiles noticing everyone here.

She moves back over to you leaning over the back of the couch to peer down at your daughter. “Congratulations she’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you” you reply in unison.

“Okay sweetie I just need to make sure everything’s okay with you and that this placenta is coming okay. You gonna be okay for me to check?”

“Honestly I couldn’t care less what you do right now she’s here.” You chuckle not taking your eyes off your content little bundle.

“She’s here” Joel adds kissing at your temple, before staring back down at her as she pushes her little tongue. Her piercing blue eyes explore her surroundings.

“Take her” you whisper to him, your temples touching as you stare down at her.

“Yeah?” He pulls away to look at you.

“Yeah, baby she’s yours too.” You chuckle.

He smiles as he pulls slightly away from you, jumping slightly when you wince. “Okay?”

“Yeah, just a cramp.” You groan.

“Just your placenta on its way honey nothing to worry about” Cassie looks up from between your blanket covered legs.

“Why don’t you do some skin-on-skin Joel?” She adds before getting back to business

He seems shy, but nods. “Oh yeah, good idea.” He rips his shift over his head that will never get old and then carefully takes his daughter from you. Helping to cover your chest back up with the blanket in the process so you’re decent. He’s so careful in how he holds her and how he moves with her over to the armchair. He sits himself back puts his legs up on the footrest and careful manoeuvres her to be laid against him. Head resting to one side, she snuggles into his warmth.

He bends his neck down to kiss the top of her head as you watch the most beautiful moment unfold. It completely distracts you from the cramping and uncomfortable feeling of delivering your placenta and before you know it, it’s over.

“You’re the perfect patient” Cassie utters as she wraps the placenta into a bunch of newspaper ready to take to the greenhouses to use as a fertiliser. “No stitches, no complications and you’re both doing perfectly.”

“She’s perfect.” He utters kissing her head again.

She stands helping you to carefully lay your legs flat on the couch to get more comfortable. She  claps her hands together as she basks in how much love there is in the room. “Well I think my work here is done, if you need anything in the night give me a shout but I think you’ve got enough help round here that I won’t be needed.” She looks around the room to Joel, Tommy, and Maria.

“Thank you for everything Cassie.” You call to her.

“My pleasure.”

“Thank you for all you did and helpin’ her when I weren’t here Cass.” Joel utters from his chair his eyes still on your daughter.

“Of course.”

“Here I’ll show you out.” Tommy utters moving to place a hand on her back once she’s collected her things.

“Do you want me to cook you something, you hungry?” Maria quizzes.

You groan in absolute delight. “Fuck yes please Maria, I think I love you forever.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Honestly Maria I don’t care, everything you make is so good.”

She chuckles, “okay fine I’ll get to it. Joel, you want anything?”

“M’good here thanks.” He utters stroking at his daughters back.

She chuckles noticing Tommy making his way back and drags him along with her once she moves to the kitchen. You can tell he’s not happy about being stripped away from his newborn niece but at the same time you are grateful for having a little time to bask in all of this just the three of you.

Watching the love of your life become a father really is the most precious thing, this isn’t his first rodeo, but you know it’s different this time. Every detail of his behaviour towards her is beautiful. His need to hold her tight, to make sure she’s warm, happy, and content.

The room is silent as he tickles at her back her entire body seemingly fitting in his large palm. You listen in tune to her coos as he continues to stroke her.

However, it doesn’t take long till she begins getting grouchy clearly hungry. So Joel carefully stands with her in his arms and brings her back over to you. “Lil miss is definitely hungry.”

“Seems that way” you chuckle. “Will you get her a diaper too? Otherwise I don’t see this ending well.”

“Sure. Want me to quickly do that first?”

“Please. Think there’s an outfit on the changing table for her too.”

He nods. “Of course ma’am.” And he walks to the changing table ever so gently placing her down before placing one onto her tiny body.

“Baby she’s so darn small.”

“I know.”

He mumbles to her softly as he dresses her in a tiny pink outfit fit with mittens to stop her scratching herself. Thankfully, he’s able to keep her calm the entire time but as if she knows all that needs to be done has been done, she begins screaming again.

“Okay baby come on.” He murmurs as he places her against his chest, chin resting against his shoulder as her body curls into a tiny ball.

So beautiful.

He’s quick to come back over to you and hands her to you. “Good ol’ set of lungs on her.”

“She has us as her parents I don’t know why you’d expect her to be anything other than loud.” You chuckles as you move the blanket back off your chest to place her comfortably at your breast. She’s already finishing around for the nipple as you bring her closer and once, she gets it into her mouth she instantly suckles.

It hurts, of course it does, this is the first ever time your body has done anything like this. And it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You, okay?” He quizzes from beside you.

“Yeah, I promise it’s just a bit weird.”

“Will get easier every time baby.”

“It’s worth it for her I don’t mind” you smile at him before turning your attention back to your daughter drinking as though she’s desperate.

He follows your gaze and gently brushes a knuckle over her cheek. “She needs a name.”

You hum “yeah, she does.” And that’s when you get the best idea in your head “you pick.”

That stops him in his tracks and his eyes shoot up to yours. “Me?”

“Yeah baby, give her a name you know Sarah would love for her little sister, a name that makes you happy.”

He nods his eyes glossy once more as he contemplates the reminder of his loss whilst also basking in the presence of his new hope, fresh start.

He looks back at her and you can’t help watching the struggle on his face as he fusses over again whilst thinking, but you notice the exact moment he decides.

“Ellie, cus she brought this big bright shining light into our lives.”

Ellie Miller, it’s perfect.

“It’s so perfect baby I love it.” He looks up at you and smiles moving to kiss you.

“Thank you f’givin’ her to me.” He whispers as he moves to rest his forehead against yours “thank you so fuckin’ much baby.”

“You don’t ever have to thank me, Joel Miller. I love you.”

“I love you so much I think m’gonna burst.” He chuckles “fuck what are you doin’ t’me?” he pulls away to wipe at a few more tears and then his attention is right back on his girl.

His beautiful healthy baby girl.

[in1-nutshell]

Hello there, I'm wondering if you saw my sonic the hedgehog buddy with transformers or rid.

I had it written but the request went away. I'll be putting it here!

( I also don't recall which universe of Team Prime you wanted so I went with TFA, I could see this bot thriving in this universe. Please let me know if this was not what you wanted.)

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy with the personality of Sonic the Hedgehog with Team Prime

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronian reader

TFA

Buddy was a bot that emerged from an old blue kart when a shard of the Allspark fell into its engine.

The poor thing was confused about who he was and what he should be doing.

That was until a comic landed on his face.

A comic about a playful, speedy hedgehog and his misadventures with his friends.

The bot liked this character a lot and decided to be just like him.

It certainly was a surprise when Team Prime came across a speeding go-kart with a bright blue finish and energetic personality was helping a couple of grandparents cross the street.

That was either Blurr’s cousin… or the team really needed to get a better at finding these Allspark shards…

The bot had heard a bunch about this Team Prime from the granny’s and decided to join.

They didn’t want him?

Too bad, good guys gotta stick together.

Team who are a bit cautious of the new member

These bots are a bit cautious when this new bot shows up. Not that they could get rid of the bot, he moved too fast and admittedly a good bot. At one point some of these bots consider the possibility of them being able to teleport, but it’s proven quickly that the bot is just really fast. These bots don’t necessarily dislike the bot, the speedster’s personality is like Bumblebee’s. They do appreciate the bot’s wanting to help other around them using their gift; respect is earned that way. The only reason why any respect slightly decreases was because they insist on having a chili dog scented tree in their alt mode. It smells weird and they don’t like it. The blue bot also has a habit of giving them all nicknames, though they don’t understand what a ‘Shadow’ or ‘Knuckles’ are.

Prowl

Ratchet

Optimus

Team who don’t mind Buddy

These bots are happy to have a new friend. They love how fast the speedster can go. Sometimes they are even asked to time the blue bot to see if he can beat his speeding record. This as resorted to many complaints from Fanzone about speeding in certain places in the city. Luckily Professor Sumdac has a track suited for the blue speedsters increasing speed. As far as things go, the one thing all these bots can agree is that their new teammate has a weird fascination with car fresheners that smell like ‘chili dogs’. It takes a bit for these members to understand the reason behind the blue bots nicknames. Now, if they are willing to share the information to the others is up for debate.

Bulkhead

Sari

Who has raced Buddy and continues and is a bit of a sore loser since the first match

Bumblebee

[slippinninque]

💕Early Birds🦃

Fontaine x blackfemreader

Warnings: fluff, long fic, soft!taine, holiday vibes

With a slight twinge in your bent wrist, you woke smooshed between the solid wall of your man and the couch. It was easy to get your arms resettled and you sighed at the feeling of being held. When had the two of you fallen asleep? What time was it?

Hell, it didn’t even matter…

Your granny would have been sick if she saw how you gorged and lazed about, all up under and over a man. Truth was that this may have been the best holiday you had in a long time. No walking on eggshells, no constantly serving the ungrateful and spiteful.

This Thanksgiving was all about what you wanted to do in your house. If you wanted to invite your boo over the night before to bring in the festivities, you could. The house was fragrant with the smell of the season–sugar, spice, and Pine-Sol.

Carefully sitting up, you gave a big stretch and in doing so roused your couch-mate,

“G’morning to you…”

“C’mere…let me tell you something.”

“Nope, that’s a trap…” You tried to wriggle away but Fontaine brought you closer, rolling onto his back and arranging your afghan in the process. You managed to find Fontaine’s phone wedged between you and you checked the time, 5:45am. Happy Turkey Day! The phone was tossed back into the couch-nest as you laid your head onto his chest.

Fontaine massaged the back of your head, fingers deep in your new growth, “The food is put up, we don’t need to get up right now. Do we?"

“Maybe I was going to get whipped cream, huh?”

“How when we used it up all last night for the milkshakes?”

“Urhm…maybe I was gonna make some! Smarty…”

Fontaine snorted and slipped his hands down to cup your bottom, which was a very good counter argument to getting up. You swore he was stuffed with lavender or something with the way his touch could sooth you right back into dozing.

The night before replayed across your mind.

With the main events either cooling off on the counter or resting in the fridge, the two of you saved the desserts for last. You threw a few cookies into the oven and Fontaine surprised you by taking the lead on making an apple pie. It was your favorite to make thus far as Fontaine insisted on kissing you in between bites for a ‘proper perspective’ on what the eater was enjoying.

The TV played on mute when the stereo was on, the two of you working around each other in the kitchen to prepare dish after dish. You both agreed that Thanksgiving really started the day before, the holiday should be spent getting full and laughing at old reruns.

You shared your preferences of sweet potatoes vs candied yams. Fontaine showed you how to open a pop can without its tab. You told him of the importance of having dinner for breakfast and he agreed.

Fontaine told you about his holidays before his little brother’s passing. You described the last holiday that made you decide to never come home for the holidays. You could hear the loneliness in his voice as he avoided the subject of his mother, only insisting he usually preferred to be alone on days like these.

It was something you could relate to, knowing more than enough people but still feeling so singular. It was a feeling that you steered away from, instead focusing on the friends who texted you well wishes and promises to link up soon.

You also focused on how well your spare apron fit Fontaine. You couldn't take your eyes off him as he accompanied you, showing no signs of slowing down or getting tired of your constant ideas of what else to put into the stove.

Kissing in the kitchen, Fontaine lit by the bronze-blue sky peeking from the window felt like a gift and you kept the feel of it beneath your heart for rainy days. You could imagine every holiday going on like this, loitering the kitchen snacking and waiting for more food to get done before eating again.

The couch became home base as you both were suddenly too awake for bed but not to be sitting up at the dining table. You grabbed some Uno cards and Fontaine found your rolling tray, both of you bringing food from the kitchen to spread across the low table. Fontaine was yours, the two of you playing and smoking until you fell asleep.

Presently, you opened your mouth but your stomach spoke for you. It murmured rudely enough that Fontaine noticed and laughed as he released you.

“Alright, little chipmunk. I’ll give you what you want.” Fontaine sat up and you did as well, stretching high to the ceiling. Fontaine did the same with a groan, teasing you with a peak of skin when his shirt rode up.

The morning made him very soft, Sleepy ‘Taine was something else. You liked how he looked wearing your afghan when heating up your plates and you liked the smell of your soap on Fontaine’s warm skin when he came from the shower.

You had everything set up for the two of you. Two dinner trays pushed together with your plates coupled with the left over treats from the night before provided the perfect spread.

Fontaine settled close to you, pulling the blanket over both your laps. You broke open the 2-liter to pour cold juice into cups for each of you. You don’t know why but your stomach filled with butterflies when Fontaine turned to give you a little smile as he found the remote.

“Ready?” he asked. You thought of the hours ahead do you, filled with nothing but this.

“Oh, for sure..."

----------------

✨Ending notes:✨ I'm soooo sorry it took so long @mcondance! It's mainly vibes but I hope that you enjoy it! Thank you all for reading 💕✨💖✨🤸🏾‍♀️💜

💕Taglist💕: @megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful

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[superemeralds]

i think about ur piece with shadow captioned “welcome to the promised land” ALOT… with that, i wondered what your thoughts are on the sonic movies (both the ones that came out and the new one thats coming) in regards to their portrayal of the police/military/GUN.

I’m personally really disappointed in whats been done so far (with Tom being a cop, like cmon man what. and with the goofy portrayal of the military, especially that old general guy in the second movie) and im really nervous about whats coming, with team sonic working WITH GUN (and now Tom and Maddie wearing military uniforms) in the trailers. I have a suspicion that Maria’s death will be an “accident”, like a very MCU style “sometimes the military makes mistakes…” bullshit. itd really suck to see this series become another piece of copaganda, especially since like. its so out of character, like sonic is unique in the way its been blatantly anti military (for the most part) in the games. it wasn’t revolutionary by any means but it is arguably a core part of the original story.

What are your thoughts? sorry for the long ask, I’m a big fan of your writing and thoughts on sonic (huge heart of a monster fan!). Hope youre having a good day!

big same. I've made the comic in question as a response to the first trailer for sonic 3 actually.

the trailer made me feel a LOT of emotions, mostly negative if im honest, and the only thing that I liked from it was the scene of shadow bursting from his tank thing and being sloppin wet that looked like he was standing in the rain. so i went and made a comic of shadow in the rain. and i made it as anti military and anti capitalism as i could.

becasue sonic 3's marketing, in my opinion, especially after the second trailer came out, is a perfect axample of everything wrong with the current western (mostly USA, but the USA influences the entire world so.) society. it exemplifies capitalism, militarism, consumerism, a lack of emotional depth and the infantalization as well as mliking (for a lack of better word; i mean how advertizements are usually heavily marketed at kids because parents will buy anyhting to shut up their crying annoying meat bags and therefore spend money on shit they dont want nor need) of children (that detective pikachu bit was so painful). and let's not forget the fatphobia. it was so painful to go back and watch the first trailer to freshen my memory for this reply oh god.

when sonic 2 came out i was really happy with the movie. i think sonic 2 is miles better than 1 in terms of characters and fun, most obviously because there's more of actual sonic characters in it now then the first. the first felt mostly like a pilot honestly. the second one had much more fantastical details and elements thatreally leaned into sonic's world. Or at least... the environment artists tried with it. I remember being OBSESSED with the fact tehre was a mural of perfect chaos in that labyrinth for like 1 second and theorized about what it could mean. while watching the movie i even speculated it was foreshadowing that perfect chaos was gonna be the secret final boss of the movie as that was only the halfway point of the runtime. having sobered from the hype i understand its a neat detail from the cg department that means absolutely nothing.

the worst thing is that the movie (sonic 3 now) itself might be like. a well made movie with good (enough) writing and good visuals and whatever. sonic might betray the military and go his own way bc here he's a little younger and he's learning (he didnt grow up w military so he might be blissfull yunaware bc hes only been fed propaganda through hollywood movies so far) and him meeting shadow and learning about his fate might change his mind. we don't know yet.

The marketing sometimes is detatched from the movie itself so it'll misrepresent things for the sake of "bait" to get ppl to spend money to watch it (the teenage kraken movie suffered from that bc it was fun imo i liked it). Or even just to get people to make viral reactions to get even MORE news of the movie out and attract more people. Especially when adapting a story that already exists I think it makes them reveal a LOT of the movie (I saw ppl complain they reveal the entire movie in the trailer, i think given the fact we already know all those key moments shown it's fine)

actually. does anyone know if the us army funded this movie? i know it does a lot of movies ever since iron man

idek where im going w this rn im just. eghh.... def not gonna see it in cinema ♥ my money goes towards literally anything else

[cosmos-coma]

Winter Mountain Soldier Spy- Part 2

A/N: Look at me not taking a month to post a new chapter! lol. I'm happy to get this one going and get writing again. I put one of my favorite songs into this chapter that I think really suits our beloved Winter Soldier (Take Back - Odie Leigh). Enjoy!

Pairing: Winter soldier!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Words: ~2994

Bucky Masterlist | AO3

Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!

________

“Mmph….”

The Winter Soldier let out a quiet huff as he woke, his eyes blurry with a depth of sleep he had rarely felt before. Slowly he blinked the haze away as he sat up from the floor, the bed’s comforter folded beneath him as a makeshift mattress.

He had tried sleeping in the bed- he really did- but it was far too soft. Like sinking into a powdery snow drift, every second he tried to endure felt like another moment closer to inevitable suffocation. Even the plush blanket you had put aside was more than he was used to, but for once he allowed himself the pleasure. 

A silent wince swept across him as he sat up, his hand instantly finding one of the many bullet wounds dappling his back. His fingers came back clean- no blood- a good sign.

As he breathed a sigh of relief, the sounds of clinking and clanging finally registered in his ears. They were soft, yet still distinct as they danced through the closed door, their source- he figured- being the kitchen just below. Instinctively, his shoulders tensed in anticipation, his eyes scanning for a makeshift weapon to face the threat, until-

until a voice came.

Soft and easy, your voice sang a slow unrecognizable tune. It was only then that the prior evening came rushing back to him in a whirlwind; fleeing HYDRA, nearly getting hit by a car, and finally, being brought here- to a house in the middle of nowhere- by a persistently nice stranger who insisted on bandaging him up. 

How could he forget?

Quickly making his way to his feet and getting dressed, he silently padded down the creaky wooden stairs. Slow, practiced feet traversed each step, finding the quietest path with minimal effort as his assassin instincts refused to take a back seat.

As his feet hit the bottom of the stairs he turned toward the continuous noise, a slight frown to his expression until he saw… you. 

There you stood. The vivid orange of sunrise seemed to maneuver through the mountains and snow-covered trees just to wash over you. Your skin glowed with an alluring warmth that left his fingers twitching with the mere thought of its sensation. You hadn’t noticed him yet- your voice still soft and quiet in an attempt not to wake him. Your mind was far elsewhere, distracted by making breakfast and the melody that hung in the air around you.

He dared not speak as the song slowly faded out and a new one began, a small smile resting on your lips as you sang yet another unfamiliar tune. Though he’d never been one for music as far as he could remember, listening to you sing seemed to quell a storm he didn’t realize had occupied him. For the first time in a long time, he knew what it meant to feel at ease. Tense shoulders relaxed, letting out a soft breath as he deflated back to normal.

Yet, even amongst his newfound calm, every word in your song made his brain itch in a way he wasn't yet familiar with.

“Baby… If I can even call you that. You know I'm struggling to remember- I mean, I’m struggling to forget.

Lately, I’ve been so caught inside my head; I swear I haven’t lived in weeks- been daydreaming instead.”

Your toothy smile lit up the room effortlessly as your head nodded along to the tune. You sang as you cracked another egg into the pan and all he could do was watch and listen.

“I bet money his memory is hazed... It’s not too out of character, we paved the path that way.”

You flipped a pancake in another pan, your voice easy with practiced familiarity.

“I’m missing full night's sleep- I'm missing meals, no drinks. I miss believing words are said, words that are said to me.

And now he’s gone again, stuck on my phone again- Just waitin’ on someone-”

You grinned as you prepared two plates. 

“-I’m not waitin’ on no one…”

Your voice bubbled with a determined sort of joy as the song turned and your expression refused to fade.

And while I hope, that my pictures on your shelf when I get home. Don’t wanna see nobody else I wanna hold me accountable for things I did myself….

Don’t wanna see nobody else.

I’m gonna take back some of my time, I'm gonna take back some of my time, I'm gonna take back some of my time, I'm gonna take back…

Take back…”

As the song ended you turned, and upon seeing him, smiled with a brightness that left him feeling like he got kicked square in the chest. His breath was completely gone, his chest achingly void yet completely overfilled, and all he could do was stare. 

“You’re still here…” You said, turning down the radio a little, “I wasn’t sure if you would stay or not, but…”You grinned, “I’m glad you did. I made breakfast just in case,” You added as you handed him a large plate full of pancakes, eggs, and sausages.

Surprise could barely hide on his face as he took the plate from you. A full breakfast…? Were you sure…? As if on cue his stomach rumbled, intent on making its hunger known far and wide. 

But you just laughed and waved him on as you headed toward your regular seat at the kitchen table, your own loaded plate in tow, “Come on, let’s eat…” you said, motioning to the jams and syrup you already had out, “and there’s more than enough for seconds, so please don’t hold back.”

Slowly he slid into the seat across from you, his expression reserved as he watched you make the first few moves. That same radiant orange light still fell over you, though much more dappled now as it filtered through the layers of branches. Your actions were simple. You grabbed a jar of jam and spread it over your pancakes, then you reached for the milk, adding it to your coffee; they were all such simple actions. Such simple normal actions….

And it gave him immeasurable comfort. 

He copied your movements as he watched you go about your routine.

He tried his first set of pancakes with jam, enjoying its sharp, but sweet flavor, yet to him, the second stack reigned supreme; drizzled perfectly with syrup so that each bite was as sweet as his last. Then he tried the coffee, adding milk and sugar much like you, but recoiled immediately as an overwhelming level of sweetness flooded him. He had added far too much, but, despite your laughter, you were more than happy to get him a fresh cup and let him try again.

With HYDRA he only got what was strictly necessary. Meals were bland and lukewarm, with only the essential nutrients and nothing more. Water was about the only thing they were lenient with, but even that had its limits. 

But now hot food sat pleasantly in his belly and spices danced across his nose and tongue. He had had a feast fit for the greatest of kings and one more than worthy enough to celebrate his newfound freedom.

Yet still, the normalcy of it all buzzed in the back of his mind. The breakfast spread out across the table, the music in the background; It was a life that, weeks ago, he could only have imagined; catching nothing more than bits and pieces through the lens of his scope.

The radio mumbled on quietly, the only noise between you besides the scraping of utensils, but he liked it that way. Looking over, he noticed a small smile still lingering in your expression, perhaps a sign that you enjoyed the busy silence as well.

As the two of you finally finished you rose to your feet and gathered the dirty dishes to start washing up. 

At first, the Soldier just watched, at a loss for what you were doing, but soon stood to get a closer look, watching silently over your shoulder.

You felt the gaze of those bright blue eyes run over you and you looked back, “Did you want to help?” You asked.

At first, his brow furrowed, but then he nodded, “What can I do?” He took a step closer, the concept of personal space not seeming to exist in his mind as he slid in close beside you. 

You could feel the warmth radiating off of him where he stood, his large frame taking up space comfortably. Strong, sleeved arms brushed against yours, as he settled in, taking the drying rag you had offered. “I’ll wash and you can dry, okay?” You smiled, handing him the first dish.

He nodded and did exactly as you instructed, his expression far more serious than necessary for the simple act of drying dishes.

You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as you glanced over, his drawn-together brows deep in concentration as he meticulously dried each and every dish before setting it aside.

He frowned, looking over at your barely stifled laughter as he finished another pan “What?”

You shook your head, a grin still plastered on your lips, “Nothing...! Nothing, you just-“ you laughed a touch, looking over at his down turned expression, “You look so serious doing this. Like the pans owe you money or something,” you grinned.

But he didn’t smile back, instead, he looked back down at the pans, not a speck of water left on their shining surfaces, “… I just wanted to be good….” He whispered.

Your heart nearly melted into your feet. His tone was so soft and earnest,  he really only wanted to do good by you and it made your heart swell and burst and melt and flutter all at the same time. You shook your head, your expression soft and warm, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. You really are doing a great job,” you held out one last plate in his direction, “Here, last one, okay?”

Warm lightly calloused fingers found yours as he went to grab the plate, sending warm pins and needles rushing through your forearm. With a short gasp, you flinched back- shocked, but not appalled, at the sudden sensation. Carelessly the plate slipped through your fingers, clattering to the floor with a violent crash that sent a wave of broken ceramic running in all directions.

“Ah!” you yelped in surprise, your instinct to move away from the noise, unfortunately, stronger than your know-how to stay put. Sharp pain gripped your foot as you stumbled back, like small teeth digging relentlessly into your flesh.

“Fuck!” You cursed and tried to step back into safety but the pain persisted, “Shit- damn it…!” you cursed again and looked down to the bottom of your foot. Blood began dripping down from your sole, a little piece of broken plate lodged firmly in the small cut.

The Winter Soldier’s eyes widened with concern as he saw red hit the floor. He had been given a dream-like start to the day and he’d already tainted it with blood. His hands reached out to help but hesitated for a moment. These hands have already hurt so many, he didn’t want to hurt you any further, “I didn’t mean to-“

“No, no, no” you interrupted him with a slight frown, carefully picking out the small shard, “No, I’m sorry… I’m the one who dropped it.” You sighed still holding your foot up as another drop of blood fell, “Fuck… Okay, would you mind- whoa!”

With surprising swiftness and little effort, he scooped you up as if you weren’t every bit of the woman you were. He held you close against his chest, his grip as gentle as he could allow as he took careful steps here and there, avoiding the needle-like shards, until you both arrived in the living room.

He set you down on the coffee table, just as you had done for him the day before, and moved his attention to your wounded foot.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine-“

“Please…” he interrupted with a surprisingly soft yet pressing voice, “Let me help…. Let me be good….” Large blue eyes looked up at you, pleading with you to let him do just this much. His hands hovered over your leg as he waited patiently for your response.

Blinking with surprise you nodded slowly. You couldn’t understand what being good had to do with it all, but with such quiet urgency, it clearly meant a lot to him, “Okay….” You agreed.  

It was impossible to ignore the delicate way he touched you, his fingers brushing your ankle tenderly as he looked over the cut on your foot. It left your chest aflutter as warm static radiated out from his touch. It was subtle at first, just a hint of a feeling, like a lover’s warm breath against your skin, but it only grew.

He nodded and with his characteristically intense and careful eyes he scanned over your wound, nodding again before stepping away to find the first aid kit, retracing your steps perfectly from yesterday.

You had to smile to yourself as he came back to you, first aid kit in tow along with another expression of determination that you weren’t sure fit the severity of the situation, but that seemed to suit him all the same.

With a tender touch, he cleaned and wrapped your foot, hiding the wound away under a layer of gauze to let it heal in peace.

“Thank you… really,” you said as you brought your foot up to poke and prod at the new bandage, “and maybe while we’re here, we can change out your bandages? I’m sure they’ve soaked up plenty enough by now”

He nodded, his voice gentle as a small smile crept upon his lips, “Okay….”

With a few ushering waves of your hand you two easily changed places, your bad leg kneeling on the sturdy table as you stood behind him. One after the other, you peeled each bandage off slowly and marveled at the state of their healing.

Each one had already healed up on its edges and was now trying to close. You were amazed, to say the least. Though it wasn’t at an otherworldly rate, each wound looked like it had already healed over a few days time, however even at this rate you were sure it would still take some time.

“So…  You really have no name..? Nothing besides ‘The Winter Soldier’….?” You finally asked over his shoulder as you pressed the fresh gauze against his muscled back, “I mean- I’m glad I can refer to you as something other than ‘the tall dark stranger’-” You jested with a small smile, but he didn’t seem to get it, “-but it feels wrong to just call you a soldier and nothing else…” 

“Hmm,” he hummed quietly, nodding a bit and pausing as if he was looking for an answer that would please you, “I was soldier number 001….” He said, obviously unknowing of the implications of his words. He gazed into the mirror across from him as you worked, watching your emotions twist as he spoke. 

You frowned harshly, locking eyes with him through your reflection, “You were numbered…?” You sighed as you continued, shaking your head, “I’m so sorry….” Your hand smoothed across his skin as you laid the last piece of tape down, your touch lingering subconsciously. 

Sparks still danced across his skin beneath your touch, radiating a comforting warmth that he had yet to grow accustomed to, but that he never wanted to be without. He wanted your hands on him always, whether it was wiping blood away from his brow or simply brushing a stray hair from his cheek. He wanted nothing more than to be held in the crackling fire of your palms and hold you in return. 

He wondered if you felt the same heat and fire he did, if you too felt the bubbling of energy beneath your skin when you touched- Or if... to you, he was just coldness. Only the cold of smooth metal and nothing more.

“Well, how about…” You continued with a hum, interrupting his swirling thoughts,  “Maybe I can call you ‘Winter’?”

Icy blue eyes softened a bit as you asked. You really wanted to give him a name..?

“It’s always been my favorite season,” you smiled as you packed up the remainder of the kit, “something about the cold, muffled silence of the snow and pine trees looming above…” you hummed as you reminisced on the recent days. “The way the moon and stars reflect off the snow at night? making it as bright as a cloudy day?” You grinned now, ducking your head to hide your expression behind his shoulder, “It always made me feel at home….”

Something cracked and shifted unknowingly in the Winter Soldier as you said that; it was small- barely noticeable- but something had already found its way in and it was here to stay.

The corners of his lips turned up, his heart beating with a little more sense of purpose now. “… I would like that…” 

“Yeah?” You lifted your head, smiling again over his shoulder at his reflection. “Well then, Winter.” You happily emphasized, your smile never faltering, “You should be all patched up now. Your wounds are looking better than I expected.” You handed his shirt back to him and took one last glance at him through the mirror. 

He nodded as he pulled his shirt back over his head, the faintest of smiles still lingering on his lips. 

You smiled back and closed up the kit, getting up to put it away,  “How does another quiet evening in sound?” You asked, “I have a couple of movies we can watch to pass the time and then, if you’re up to it, maybe you can help me with dinner…?”

He nodded, his faint yet pleasant expression still having yet to fade, “Please…” 

___________

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@fanfictionreaderfan

If you wanted to be added to the general or WMSS Taglist please ask/DM and let me know!

[sheepydwagondraws]

little preview... I havent made an animatic in so long,,,

[electronicmail]

Firefox-official vs electronicmail

Hydrogen bomb vs coughing baby

okay come up with a better idea then. firefox-official is gone asshole it’s electronicmail or nothing

[dailyloopdeloop]

DAY 71: shy

[shrimpwizards]

slime time!!! + headcanons (y juevos)

[thedeadthree]

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 ➸ irulanne . the rook .

𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 . 𝐄𝐋𝐅 . 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄 .

-`. template by @kanos . coloring . icons .

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[birdcatt]

using my newfound ability to draw the v models for good

[rosenfey]

things that are hard to find: writing advice that isn't condescending.

[isa-ah]

making a fursona is fun but getting to retire an old traumatized time capsule of yourself and make a new, happy, grown version of yourself is so fuckin nice.