#what about winter

[pumpkingeorge]

Family impulse bought ducklings. Guess who was surprise volunteered to take care of them.

[lungthief]

listen. i know it's not 2014 anymore and i know it's just a throwaway line and that the russo brothers didnt intend for marvel action blockbuster captain america the winter soldier to become the tragic gay love story that never was but man. having steve say "it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience" in a conversation about romantic relationships right before the bucky reveal is so cruel. it's not just about steve and bucky obviously having the shared experience of being "out of time," it's the fact that they've both been stripped of their humanity in opposite directions. steve is a legend, he is an american hero and a national icon before he is a human being the same way that bucky is a weapon and a killing machine before he is a human being. steve knows that anyone who falls in love with him in the 21st century fell in love with captain america first, and that's just not him. but then the one person who knew him first and knew him best and loved him (not captain america, that little guy from brooklyn) so much he died for it is alive, impossibly. and it's a miracle because he's back and it's horrific because he's back under the worst possible circumstances. but to steve, the winter soldier is worth tearing the world apart for because he's always been bucky first. they find each other and suddenly they're human again. and maybe, despite it all, being "out of time" becomes a blessing, because in this century they'd finally be allowed to love each other the way they've always wanted to. like real people do.

like. no. the captain america trilogy isn't about two queer men traumatized and alienated by war and modern life rediscovering and reclaiming their humanity through their love for each other. but. i mean. it couldve been

[stealingpotatoes]

had WAY too much fun with the dao + camp designs so i now bring you dao gang designs across the games <3

(commission info // tip jar!)

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

incrumbsiderate

[anuphim]

bg practice bc i had wanted to draw snow again \o/

[canisalbus]

May I offer a little drawing of your dogs?

.

[karlachismylife]

So, we all know Simon is covered in freckles, beautiful constellations blooming on his pale skin, nature marking the perfect paths for kisses along his collarbones, down the dip of his spine, scattered on his arms.

And his face, of course, little spots on his nose and cheeks, sneaky ones all the way up to his eyes. Hidden from everyone, full attire, a mask and smear black providing cover for the shy stars, like clouds do on windy, humid autumn nights. Cold and detached wrap to keep this weird sign of life on a living dead body from overly curious eyes.

But not from his Captain. Price knows these freckles, he's seen them young and bright, he's seen them dull and almost invisible on a half translucent skin.

He's seen them disappear, long, cruel winter and the mask almost grown into Ghost's skull wiping everything besides uneven scars and black ingrained into his skin. He's seen the summer taken out of his boy, replaced with the dead sleep of the winter, white and icy like Simon's eyelashes.

And, frankly, he won't have that.

If there's not enough sun for those little specks of life to shine, be it London fog half of the year or excruciating cold of the northern polar night they're stuck in on an op, Captain Price is giving his Lieutenant a personal sunshine. One that will melt polar caps if you let it shine in full brightness, hot, unpredictable in its flares, relentlessly glowing and cutting it's radiation through any barier.

Deadly as a burning globe of gas can be. Sergeant MacTavish.

Johnny doesn't have a problem with disregarding laws of physics. If this sole, dark, barren planet of ice refuses to circle him like everyone else does, Soap flips all those heliocentric theories over and instead makes a satellite to Ghost out of himself. Simon's joints stop aching when the shared space heats up, air few degrees away from rippling around Soap's broad form like it's boiling overhead a fire pit. His breath appears visible again, contrast to the almost non-existent fog that was leaking out of his mouth, making everyone who knew (not many of them) wonder, if Simon Riley actually ever left his grave.

One day, Simon's knuckles turn white and hurt. One day, Simon's frosty lashes flutter and not a single cloud of steam exits his mouth. One day, he feels frozen in place despite being basked in molten sunlight of Johnny's gaze, because Sergeant's restless hands found a makeup pen and are swiftly covering Simon's flushed cheeks in freckles.

Crowded constellations, all little sister stars from the MacTavish clan, clinging to Simon in semi-permanent kisses.

Price walks in on them, Simon sitting with his hands clenched tight and his breath held, Johnny with his tongue stuck between his front teeth as he keeps bringing spring out of its long dormant state on Simon's once again alive face.

Just like a sun should. Just like Captain Price expected.

[5ummit]

Hey how'd the Commies snag an invite?

[naturecalls111]

DECEMBER 1ST

[wyvernity]

been thinking about the sinnohtrio lately......plus misc other stuff

also, casual ko-fi drop!! get something in this sketchy style starting at $10 woop woop

[bubbarnes]

every choice has a consequence.

[screwpinecaprice]

Made adjustments with an older winter connverse because sometimes I like to revel on what improvement I had by 'correcting' my earlier stuff. Lol

[wreniriis]

Guilt

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

once more to see you

[incessantlark]

just a really stupid re8 post based on this pinterest post

[jinxie-117]

everyday i think about how henry could have put on a whole show of grief at bunny's funeral. he could have read a long-winded speech, hell, he could have even said "this poem was one of bunny's favourites" before he read it. that simple acknowledgement to let everyone at that funeral know he cared.

but he didn't. he read that poem, knowing full well it did not suit whatever 'aesthetic' he and julian had formulated, knowing that he'd be criticised for it. knowing that the only people who knew what it meant, were him, bunny, and the rest of the greek class.

i've seen some people have said that him smearing the dirt across his chest at the funeral was an 'act' of sorts to show how much he was grieving. but i don't think i could disagree more. henry was sick out of his mind at that funeral. i think the funeral wasn't just overwhelming for him mentally and physically, but also emotionally. he had to grieve once, then he had to grieve a second time, knowing that he killed his best friend.

everyday i think about it man. i love these freaks