#so idk how long it’s gonna end up being

[tapwater118]

bfdia 17 and tpot 15 spoilers

bfdia 17

needle’s votes were counted separately, which means pencil is out, which is sad but also funny because now she gets to host with the rest of the wtfers. oh yeah they get to host now! i love that, also balloony just warpdriving out killed me. loved the mini freesmart reunion

fries actually taking the immunity was also a welcome surprise, we didnt really need pin to get tortured more this late in the season. i also guess at this point there isnt really gonna be a merge so much as a bunch of singleton teams, buts thats fine imo. coinpin :)

loved all the little cameos in the mall, very fun. also leafy! didnt really have too much screen time but oughhh they were teasing her for so long i almost lost hope. so very close to the first ever bookleaf interaction

the main event of course is tennis ball and nickel’s excellent adventure. if i had a nickel for every time a random donut line from bfb was justified by bfdia i would have two nickels: past nickel and future nickel. its nickel’s fault gaty got eliminated btw he lured that bug up there. he also caused all of tpot 15 by kicking the yoylite into the future so THANKS BUDDY

overall very funny episode! as much as i hate to say it i think needle is going to go here, she was very close to elimination last time and she also didn’t really have much to do this time. nickel is also a solid possibility due to him destabilizing the fabric of spacetime, which sources tell me is not a very “cash money” thing to do

anyway time for The Horrors

tpot 15

nickel i am going to throttle you

i predicted basketball was gonna be out but it doesnt mean im happy about it. also tree staying in over robot flower was a shock, i thought people really liked her?? poor thang her self esteem is in the toilet now. at least they got to fly away on a dragon to get lesbian married together

i love love love how theyre using the rejects more its wonderful (the pda short was definitely a test to see if people would like the rejects as characters im sure of it). itrd trying to replace firey to make himself relevant inadvertently made relevant from people editing him over firey i love it

ive seen people say they dont like the time travel but me? im eating this up its so good, wonderfully silly depiction of the butterfly effect, its perfect for bfdi. the host continuously being changed was a wonderful bit, and host with a screen! there were so many callbacks for the bfdi geeks in the crowd (me), i hope they do more with the tfi style it is so nice to watch

PENCIL CRASH OUT ARC TO RING IN THE NEW YEAR HALLELUJAH thank you one for getting her on the show. actually this crash out and the resulting timeline devastation is the exact reason one rigged pencil to get it. poor pencil man she needs friends

the finale of the episode with everyone huddling together as reality falls apart honestly got to me. icy running over to me with book is everything to me. her last moments and she chooses to spend them with book sndbejuxhsbansn

ok uh elimination predictions probably tree from dpya but maybe marker?? idk maybe his fans wont like him green. from team two i would like it to be grassy but i know hes gonna get the most votes again somehow. sorry taggy it might be your time to go

idk how to end this

[estrellami-1]

Soft Touch Baby

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Eddie’s POV | Song | ao3

(Technically I still haven’t gone to bed so it’s still “yesterday” but I’m busy and wanted to give y’all this. Enjoy!)

Steve takes another deep breath. In, out. He sees Eddie mirror him. Decides to be brave. “I was about to call you.”

Eddie’s eyes flick up to his face for a second before they cut away again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He sits on the couch, a careful half-cushion between them, unsure of what he’s allowed.

“Nightmare?”

He hums in agreement. “You?”

“Yeah. Same. What was yours?”

Steve huffs an incredulous laugh. “You gonna believe me if I tell you I don’t remember?”

“You don’t.”

Steve shrugs. “You called.”

An almost-smile lifts the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “I did.”

“What was yours about?”

The corner of his mouth drops. “I don’t remember.”

They both know he’s lying. Neither bother to point it out.

Steve looks away. Sighs. Looks back at Eddie, notices him biting his lip, notices his hands clenching around the hem of his shirt, notices his eyes darting to Steve then away. “Eds?”

Eddie looks at him for half a second longer this time before his eyes slide away again. It’s enough of a confirmation for Steve. “D’you want-?”

“If… I don’t…” he grunts, frustrated, shakes his head once. It’s irritation, not a dismissal, so Steve responds.

“You can. Whatever you need.”

Eddie looks just past Steve’s elbow, then suddenly stands, flicking his head to motion Steve over. He obeys immediately, standing close enough he can see the minuscule tremors, can feel the anxious energy vibrating through him. He holds his arms out a little, angled in the tentative gesture of a hug, and Eddie makes a small, broken-off, broken sound before all but collapsing into his arms.

“I’ve got you,” Steve murmurs, heart breaking. Reminds him, “Whatever you need.”

Eddie sticks his face in the junction of Steve’s neck and shoulder, squeezes until Steve squeezes back, nose buried in the hair above his ear. “I’m here,” he murmurs.

Eddie breaks.

There’s no other word for it. Fat, hot tears fall onto Steve’s neck, shirt collar, roll down until they’re stopped by his shirt. He’s shaking in earnest now, and Steve knows he’s still trying to be quiet, biting his lip, muffling his sobs, and they’re quiet but so real and so there that Steve feels sympathetic tears pooling in his own eyes. Eddie clutches, tears, at his back, scrabbling for a hold on his shirt, and Steve pulls him closer than he’d previously thought humanly possible. “C’mere,” he murmurs, voice tight, trying to maneuver them so they can sit or lay or something, he needs to help, needs to ground, and he gets them laying on the couch and immediately their legs are tangled. Steve puts one of his legs in a lock he’d learned from wrestling, applying the barest hint of pressure, not trying to hurt but trying to prove that he’s there, and Eddie leans even further into the hold, to a point where Steve has to let go before one of them gets hurt, gets both his legs around both of Eddie’s and squeezes.

He squeezes and holds and cuddles and rocks and taps and rubs and does whatever he can to calm Eddie. He takes deep, measured breaths, only realizing the fourth time his breaks in the middle that he’s crying too, so he stops, just lets himself hold Eddie and fall into whatever pit they’ve dug.

Eventually his breath evens out, Eddie’s begins to, and Steve takes one last big, shaking breath before he’s able to guide Eddie’s breathing.

“Shit,” Eddie murmurs after a minute, face still buried in Steve’s neck. Steve just grins.

“Pretty much.”

Then they’re both laughing, mostly hysterical, almost trying to be quiet and Steve may not know about Eddie but his own laughter is because he’s just so fucking relieved, they made it, they’re battered and broken but they’re here.

“I know,” Eddie murmurs, and that’s when Steve realizes he said all that out loud.

He laughs once more before allowing his muscles to relax, just gently holding onto Eddie now. Eddie does the same with a huff that’s meant to be laughter.

“So,” Steve manages. “I’m guessing sleep isn’t happening after this?”

They break again, back into laughter, giggling like little kids, getting a little too loud but unable to care because they’re okay, they’re here, they’re safe now.

“You’d be right,” Eddie answers after a few minutes, still giggling, sitting up and wiping at his tears.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “Sorry. That was…” he shakes his head.

Steve shakes his back. “Don’t apologize.” He pauses, swallows, whispers, “Please.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, just as quietly.

Pt 12

Taglist:

@thegingervulcan @snapshotmaestro @the-redthread @tiny-enthusiast @thatonepotatochild @maya-custodios-dionach @imsociallyanxiousgetoverit @vhelt @newtstabber @huskysarelife @singmeyoursimpsong @gaysonthefloor @darkwitchoferie

[arsenicflame]

ANGELA/SERA FROM THE MARVEL SNAP HERO ANIMATIC

[ahalliance]

qantoine’s coping mechanism to feeling left behind being both self-isolating and becoming possesive of those he cares for is so juicy as a concept . like yeah you go you funky creachure, manifest those complicated and sometimes contradictory emotions

[fisheito]

So I was looking at waiter Yakumo and noticed that he had wavy hair. His hair straight normally so who was the one who curled his hair? DOES KLEIN EVEN HAVE CURLING IRONS???? Anyways all of this is to say please imagine Eiden helping Yakumo get ready and that involves putting those old timey curlers in Yakumo's hair before he went to bed so he can have curls the next morning

uhdisomFINMF u are making me IMAGINE!!!!!! yakumo about to apply for the job and wondering if he should present himself a certain way eiden going ;))) you look sexy with your hair pushed back ;))) (but before yakumo can stutter out his embarrassment) eiden gives him the very encouraging "but for real i think you look great as you are!! <3" then aster crashes onto the scene and announces that he will not have his servants treasured colleagues looking anything less than PEAK presentable!!!!! *whips out the old timey pink hair curlers*

[shopwitchvamp]

Just downloading the videos for this week's tarot reading off of my camera is taking a million years.. it's gonna be a long one! And with that I'm having 3 thoughts: 1) I really need to get a second battery for my camera already, haha 2) I think I gotta get an external hard drive to hold all these videos.. 3) Sorry to pile #3 but I took so long filming everything that some of your reading is pretty much in the dark. I was using The Vampire Tarot for you guys tho so maybe it's fitting...

[popstart]

Me getting crucified and burnt at the stake after saying i kinda prefer the way some characters are in dramarama

[resident-rats]

OKAY I thought I’d take longer writing chapter 8 of Moonlight, BUT I’m already like 4.5k words into it🫡

[telesodalite]

Woe, unfinished, mildly edited, fulfire fic tid-bits be upon you

-

Like a magnet, his optics kept drifting back to Misfire's face. His stupid, strangely charming face.

For a short while, after Clemency, it had been that face that haunted some of his nightmares. His recalls blurring the lines between the strange reality of Misfire's hands reaching into him to lock his fuel pump back into the very spot he'd pulled it from, and the fear that just as easily he could pull it out again. They had been bloody dreams. Dreams that had him startling awake, gripping his chest in the vain attempt to close what wasn't open, before spending the rest of the day avoiding Misfire's optics.

But now things were different. Not Misfire's face. No, that hadn't changed much. But Fulcrum's dreams had definitely changed. To say the least of what all rolled around in his processor as he slept nowadays.

Some of those newer dreams had crept to the forefront of his mind as he sat there on the couch, staring as the lights of the screen reflected dully across Misfire's plating in hazy blues and greys.

The lighting made his colors seem muddy and faded, but Fulcrum didn't really care, nor did he care to think what it made himself look like. He was too busy bringing an empty engex can to his lips while he watched the crinkle of Misfire's nose as he barked a laugh at something Fulcrum didn't catch onscreen.

He'd started noticing it months ago, all the ways the silvery mesh of Misfire's face would scrunch up with his emotions. Those little crinkles along his optics and nose when he laughed or glared. The creases indented along his cheeks when he grinned. Fulcrum found himself quietly logging away these little details. Idle notes and observations that had suddenly started piling up in the corners of his processer.

He… He'd never really done that before? He'd never really noticed those sorts of things in other mechs.

The faces and expressions of his past colleagues never seemed terribly important. All the details of every smile and frown were never worth filing away, outside of few notable moments where those expressions reflected his work performance. But besides the smile that meant promotion, and the frown that meant he'd screwed up, nothing else was noticeable. Nothing was worth remembering.

But now the memory of every genuine laugh that bubbled out of Misfire sat comfortably besides memories of warm joyful optics that Fulcrum found himself collecting every time Crankcase cracked a rare half-smile for him, or when Krok placed a reassuring hand against his back, or the times Spinister spontaneously pointed out something odd but ultimately nice about his stupid frame.

He didn't really know why he was doing it, memorizing all these mundane little things, just to have them flit through his processer randomly. Maybe it was because those expressions, those details, felt… comforting? Comforting in such a strange and unfamiliar way. But, a good way. A good sort of strange, much like the mechs themselves.

-

-

He had stared for a long moment, the credits and their rolling tune playing somewhere in the background as Fulcrum stared back. But Misfire was never one for personable silence, even as the sound of some likely long dead Iaconian orchestra filled the room.

"What is it?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping him as he brought a hand to his face, "Don't tell me I've poured it all over myself again."

It had taken Fulcrum longer than usual to unstick his glossa from the roof of his mouth as he watched Misfire run a thumb over his lips, but eventually he had coughed out a small, choked, "No."

That had earned him an odd look at first, but with their fields loose and open, Fulcrum could almost feel the exact moment something clicked in Misfire's mind, as the idle comfortable static he projected in pulsing waves evened out into something openly curious and almost subdued.

It wasn't often Fulcrum felt him that clearly.

Misfire tended to keep his field fairly close, though, maybe not as close as the others did, what with how Crankcase kept an iron grip on his, and how Krok's always held an air of strained control, even when it slipped from him. But still, Misfire's was always hard to read, no matter the reach or depth of his field.

Even then and there, with it loose and unfiltered and buzzing with the engex running through his system, there was an ever present undertone of something indescribably jumbled about him, like too many feelings at once, each too vast and hurried for Fulcrum to really feel or understand.

It always seemed to stir the passive anxiety Fulcrum must've been forged with when Misfire's field brushed against his own. As facing the indescribable vague mess of Misfire felt like trying to untangle a pile of live-wires he couldn't even see.

It was almost frustrating in a sense, the need to try and sort and understand what wasn't even his to begin with. But at the same time it was almost exciting as well. It was like a game, like a puzzle he had yet to solve.

-

-

Finally letting his own can go tumbling to the floor to join Misfire's, Fulcrum had brought a hand to cover his face as he drew his legs up and leaned back against the arm of the couch, trying to suppress the fit as the sly look slipped from Misfire's face at the sounds.

While Fulcrum had laughed, and… snorted, embarrassingly, he had felt Misfire's field change again, brushing something fizzy and almost warm against his plating as Misfire's features softened.

"I'm looking at you," Fulcrum had said then between gulps of air, letting his hand fall from his face as he reached out to poke at Misfire's chest, "Dumbaft."

His finger had lingered over the thick plating there for maybe a little longer than necessary, drawing Misfire's attention as it slid down a little before pulling away.

Looking back up again with his helm angled slightly, Misfire had followed the sight of his hand leaving his plating to where Fulcrum let it fall between them.

"Wow…" Misfire had chuckled a little dryly, "I was gonna make it real easy for you. I was going to say something like, ''Do you like what you see?'' or-… or something like that. But now you've ruined it. Good job."

Meeting Fulcrum's optics again as he pulled his own hand back from Fulcrum's shoulder, he brought it to rest between them as well.

"And you're laughing at me," He said next, faking a small pout as his hand drifted closer to Fulcrum's, "Which totally ruins the whole vibe I was going for really. I mean, it's sort of hard to be all nice and suave-like when you're being laughed at. Total vibe killer. Bit of an ego killer too if I'm being honest. So thanks for that loser, thanks for saying I have a funny face."

With Misfire's fingers brushing distractingly past his own, Fulcrum didn't think before the words stumbled out of him.

"I like your face."

It came out almost matter of fact sounding, Fulcrum's laughter having died down while Misfire complained about it. But at the same time the words felt so simple, they came out so easily, and in a weird way they felt nice to say. But Misfire's optics had widened in surprise, his frame frozen and his field suddenly struck quiet, and despite the engex numbing his usual nerves, Fulcrum felt a sudden pang of anxiety because of it.

The silence in Misfire's field was terribly alien. It felt wrong, and something in Fulcrum spiraled to think he had caused it. But slowly, almost as if it were creeping forward, an odd almost scrutinizing uncertainty fanned outward in a careful wave. Misfire moved with it, leaning closer as he searched Fulcrum's expression for something.

"Oh yeah?" He'd said lowly then, and that sly look returned. But that vague uncertainty didn't fade with it, if anything, Fulcrum felt it strengthen. Caught between what he saw, in Misfire's easy smile and dimmed optics, and what he felt, in the growing hollow distance within their fields, Fulcrum found himself frowning and pulling back.

-

-

Growing frustrated with himself, and wanting that feeling back, he had pushed forward, shifting onto his knees as he reached for Misfire's face before the other could pull away from him entirely.

"I like your face." He said firmly, maybe too firmly. His expression still drawn into a frown as he pressed his fingers into Misfire's helm, brushing his thumbs across the silver mesh he'd been staring so intently at before. "I like your optics, and your nose. I- I like the way you smile. When you really smile, and when you laugh. I do. I'm not lying."

And oh there it was again, that little curl of warmth in Misfire's field. Almost a tangible thing, like a brush of ventilation, but Misfire wasn't venting. His mouth hung open ever so slightly, but no breath left him as he stared at Fulcrum with widening optics.

Spurred on by that tiny bloom of warmth, Fulcrum chased after it with slightly slurred words and clumsy hands as he tried to fix whatever he'd done wrong, hoping with each word that Misfire might soften and smile again.

"I like your expressions, and- and I like your voice," He said, glancing down at Misfire's parted lips, and laughing softly, nervously, as he continued, "Even when you say something so stupid. I like- I like the way it sounds. I like your accent, I like the way it makes your words sound. I- I like your- your mouth?"

Once more that weird but nice feeling settled in Fulcrum's chest. Those simple words felt good to say. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, like an admission he'd been waiting to say. About what and why? He wasn't really sure. But the warmth grew, and Misfire took a sharp vent inwards, and that felt right, so Fulcrum kept on.

"I like your helm," He said with a smile, reaching up to brush his fingers over the jutting finials there, before dropping his hands to settle lightly over Misfire's chest. "I like your frame, the colors of it. I like your-"

Before he could finish, Misfire was surging forward, knocking their helms together and nearly bruising the mesh of their noses as he tried for, and just barely missed, Fulcrum's lips.

-

👁👁👍

[stabbyfoxandrew]

me, rereading my writing:

[todayisafridaynight]

thinking about vampiric arakawas again just so i can make a 'blood-sucking politician' joke

[scattered-winter]

I really forgot just how miserable I was here huh

[myatlantispoets]

Ik i sound like such a stereotypical straight woman rn but. How do i ask my bf for flowers without asking my bf for flowers

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[spideyhexx]

breasts hurt again💔

[ssiegfriedsystem]

「A hundred years had passed. So, so much has changed in the world, but not as much to Kazukiー

And the golden vestiges of someone still donning an all too familiar scar, smiling on the back of his mind.」