#that's just obviously Soldier being Soldier

[transformers-spike]

Knockout, Ratchet, Megatron, and Optimus with taking care of a/their pregnant reader? Are they cuties?

Ohhh boy, mixed reactions all around

Knock Out has more trouble than the others. He may be a soldier, doctor and part time scientist, but he is not good at dealing with the human fluids involved. He is horrible at comforting you during morning sickness. It disgusts him and he can't shut his intake. He wants to help you obviously, but for now he's just as likely to empty his fuel tanks. So he's literally doing this:

After the first phase, it gets a little better. It truly starts to hit him how you're carrying his offspring and the mindfuckery of it all. He does care, he's just much better at checking in on you and ticking down the checklist of your needs than dealing with the gross stuff. He will cuddle you tho and give lots of praise

Ratchet is doing pretty well all things considered. It's just the stress that's getting to him. Ironically enough, taking care of you means he also needs to to take care of himself. Someone has to be here for you and the offspring, so he's going to do his best to make sure he doesn't work himself to scrap. He can be quite annoying when it comes to checking in on your wellbeing. He is a doctor dammit and he wants to make sure you're getting the necessary human analysis (government sponsored obv bc you broke all natural laws carrying his spawn) - and also his own because he's the only Cybertronian doctor around. He's going to rest with you on his chassis, holding onto his child's developing EM field, unable to process being a dad until his kid is actually born. He will cry Megatron is... very outwardly affectionate about the whole thing. Nuzzling his human and telling them how their spawn is going to lead the Decepticons to glory. He is very proud of you for carrying it, and he's very likely to stroke your growing belly with a digit for hours on end. He's got Knock Out (maybe even Shockwave if he's around) carrying out medical tests to make sure things are going well. You are held 24/7 for safety reasons, and he is not grossed out by morning sickness. He's going to rub your back while you puke and say it's only a small price to pay for what you're creating. Although, he is very irritable towards everyone else during this. He worries terribly for the birth, but he doesn't even fully realize it. Also impatient as all hell looming over you poking at his child's EM field. He cradles it and reassures his spawn it has a bright future in front of it. Megatron keeps you to his chassis at all times, right against his spark. Knowing him, he'll try to establish a spark bond with his kid even before it's born. Not sure if it works tho Optimus is coping. Maybe it's the other Primes inside of him, but he's handling your pregnancy quite well. Yes, he is very busy - but he does find the time to watch over you. He's very likely to just lie down and let you rest in his servo. Just covering him in pillows and getting comfy. He's very gentle with you. Willing to give you privacy during morning sickness or rub your back with a digit while you're dealing with the worst time of your life. He desperately wants his child to live in a world without war - and this may push him to uh... be a lot more aggressive towards Megatron. This bot is determined to protect his kid and make sure his offspring lives a happy life. He's going to press you to his cheek and just... cuddle you this way. Because he is overwhelmed with emotion and loves you so very much. He will also carry you a lot btw, especially during the third trimester.

[michaelwheelerdefiodental]

Stranger Things on Capitalism and Communism:

So, i've seen some discussions about Stranger Things message about politics during the years, that started in season 3. To start, i need to make it clear that the series has a really strong anti-communism message, but i don't really think they're really giving a pro-capitalism propaganda, i mean, they're kinda doing it, but as y'all know, American Democrats know how to make it enjoyable for both sides.

How the American Military and Government is depicted:

They're pretty much show as "for the greater good" trope, they'll do horrible things with a supposed "good intention", but at the end it shows that they are just power hungry, but those characters have more depth, this make them more "likeable", like Brenner, Sullivan and Owens (YES, HE AIN'T FOOLING ME WITH HIS EMPATHETIC PERSONA).

How the Soviet Union is depicted:

So now it starts to get more complicated; in season 3, all of them are 99% stereotypes, while in season 4, i think they can be described as 50/50. Anyway, most of them are shown as sadistic, power-hungry people who don't care about anything else, so this makes them less likeable, besides Yuri and Dmitri (Enzo).

Season 3 Communism Satire:

I don't think there's much to say here; they're just power-hungry maniacs that at the same time can be smart (building a fucking military base on an American shopping underground, even though they were helped by Larry), and then be extremely stupid and ignorant. At the end, they don't even explain what the ideology behind them is, so they are just generic villains.

Season 3 Capitalism Satire and Alegories:

America without Erica

I will start with a scene where many people seem to not see the purposeful irony. Erica, as a black kid, saying that capitalism is great is clearly a joke. She says that on capitalism she will do a job and get paid as she deserves, but she ends up entering on an enemy military base and almost died all because of A ICE CREAM, that at the end she didn't even receive it and didn't either receive the recognition for saving the city either. It can be compared to Black soldiers that fought in wars for the USA and then got discarded.

Rats on The Mall

Now talking about the Starcourt Mall. It's an alegory about consumerism in a capitalist society; the kids would go there thinking it would be more fun because of the things you can pursue, but at the end it was their company that made it really enjoyable. Mike buying something for Eleven was a great way to show it; he could make peace with her by simply talking to her like he did with Will (this has something to do with Mike's character and byler, but this ain't the point of this essay, lol).

The Blonde Pig

There's Larry and the small business closing to discuss too; i see the meaning as the greedy capitalist going against the people and letting the enemy get a hold of their nation.

The Nationalist Lovers

Murray and Alexei are the classic nationalist enemies that understand that they can live together blah blah blah... it's easy to understand. But the scene where Murray explains the July 4th games is kinda confusing, he makes a critic about the way of America using people happy hour to make the rich even more rich, and the poor even more poor, and says that all these are rigged, you can't win them, then Alexei wins one of the games and then Grigori (Soviet super-soldier) kills him. That scene is kinda weird to me, was the meaning that at the end capitalism is the right way and then the "commie pig" had to kill the traitor, or it was to show that at the end you really can't win, because this system will make you go down on a way or another??? It's up to you that is reading to decide.

Brand New Flavor

Lucas and Mike Coke's ad is another scene that is weird; it's obviously a way of the show making propaganda for one of their sponsors, but there's a criticism about the product evolving but at the end being the same shit.

The Consumers

Now this that i will say can be seen as a stretch, but the Mindflayer consuming people could be seeing as this system consuming everybody's souls, until they turn into a literal zombie only following orders. And when they have no use anymore they're just consumed entirely and turn out to be just one of the victims of the system. It shows that even the most reactive and violent people can't outdo this force, as we can see with Billy and Nancy's bosses.

Henry and his (not so) New World:

As we know, Henry was tired of the way the world functioned and wanted to create a new one. There was a bigger force (time) that stopped everybody from fulfilling their potential. What he doesn't understand is that his world will end up being the same; the powerful will control it just as our world, and honestly, this is what Henry want to happen, but what he doesn't understand is that he isn't the most powerful being there, it's the Mindflayer, and he will use Henry until he isn't valuable like the rest. At the end, Henry is just another victim of the same system.

So basically:

"I AM THE CAPITALISM, HENRY!!!"

The Mindflayer said laughing.

Me at the Cinema:

My Conclusion:

They make a rant about both sides, but the anti-communism part is way more explicit and more stereotypical, while the anti-capitalism part is more subtle, and Americans from generation X were the target audience at the beggining of the series, and we know that they aren't the most clever to see behind subtle things or even what is already obvious.

(this is a remake of a post from my old account)

[crowsofdarkness]

Dorogaya: Chapter Eleven[END]

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: It has been a few years since Bucky and Reader went into hiding. Just when they thought they were slowly building a life together, the past comes back with a vengeance.

Authors Note: This is the end of this series! The final series in this trilogy, Vaz Prizrak, will take place during Infinity War and Endgame!

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist

I remember who she was, what she was to me. Hydra kidnapped her years ago and forced me to train her. They wanted her to be the female version of me, another winter soldier. I refused at first and was punished. They strapped me to that chair, burning my mind until I agreed. She was so beautiful, the first time I saw her she took my breath away. 

The way her hair hung past her shoulders or the way she would chew on the left side of her bottom lip when she was nervous for our training sessions. I remember being drawn to the beauty mark right below her right eye, dark and prominent. It looked like a piece of jewelry on her. 

My fingers shook as the tears fell from my eyes, staining the page, while I turned to the next one; Bucky’s written words mending my heart. 

She was always afraid to fight me, I could tell in the way her heart would beat through her chest. I could hear it from my room across the building. I knew when she was asleep by the way her breathing would slow and I knew when she was awake from the soft voice coming from her room, singing a tune I found myself loving. She was the one that made the hell we were in bearable. 

I may have forgotten everything at the hands of Hydra but there was always one thing I remembered; our last night together when we were captured together. 

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, knowing exactly what night he was talking about. 

I remember the way her back arched, chest exposed to the air, when I kissed my way down her stomach to her most prized area. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt my lips on her, savoring the way she tasted; salty with a tinge of sweetness. The feeling of her heels locking me into place, pulling me in closer and deeper. The beautiful sound of her moans was music to my ears; I could still hear it now. She was breathtaking that night and I hope to one day feel herself on me again. 

The night air had done nothing to help my burning cheeks as I read that paragraph a few more times. I had been on my own for a few weeks now, Shuri and T’challa came to visit every once in a while to check on me or give me updates about Bucky. Occasionally, the young kids would come to get a look at the “White Wolf”, a nickname they gave Bucky, but would frown when I would say he wasn’t with me yet. 

Steve sent a few texts every now and then on a burner phone that he had given me. From the few conversations we had, I found out that him, Nat, Wanda, Sam, and Vision were on the run together. He wouldn’t tell me where, obviously, but I always wished him well. 

The fire in front of me warmed my feet, keeping the night air from making me shiver, and I turned my attention back to Bucky’s journal. 

She’s sitting across from me right now, reading a book, and she’s never looked more beautiful. Her lip is sucked between her teeth as she’s reading, the words unfamiliar to her. She wanted to learn Romanian. Her eyes are so bright, the color bringing a sense of familiarity to me. Everytime she looks at me, I want to wrap my arms around her and kiss her until my last breath. The sun from outside had casted a warm glow around her like an angel. My Dorogaya. 

I can’t find the right words to say it to her face but I love her; always had. Even though Hydra made her into something she has no control over, she doesn’t let it bother her. She focuses on helping me heal that she forgets she needs to heal herself. We made a promise that life on the run wouldn’t be permanent. I don’t care, I’d go anywhere with her. 

A quick lick of my finger, the page turned easily between them. 

She told me about her past with Steve. This unfamiliar feeling burned inside when she talked about how close they were. She claimed that Steve and I used to be best friends but I don’t remember. All I can remember is her. 

The date on the last passage made my breath catch in my throat; the night before everything changed. 

She was attacked at work tonight. I tried to talk to her about it but her powers took over. I never wanted this life for her, she doesn't deserve this life. She deserves everything good in the world so I sometimes wonder if I’m enough for her. I love her with every single feeling inside of me but I can’t find it in my heart to tell her. The words burn on my tongue, wanting to scream it at her but nothing comes out. I don’t know how much longer I’ll have with her before she realizes that I can’t move past everything that happened to me. I’m trying, for her, but the screams are too much. I promised that I would take care of her, give her everything she deserves, but I’m afraid that she’ll walk away. I can’t lose her, I love her so fucking much. 

Feeling sad that I had finished reading the journal, I closed it with a loud sigh. It was full of memories of us and knowing that Bucky remembered all of that made me fall more in love with him. He loved me all this time and knew that I was the one for him, he was just afraid that I would leave him for taking too long. 

Never in a million years. 

“Rogers, leave Natasha alone! That’s her pile of food!” 

I chased around one of the goats before letting out a frustrated groan. It had been a few months now of my new life in Wakanda and to ease the loneliness I not only took up gardening like Steve had mentioned, I also decided to raise some goats. 

Bad decision. 

They kept me on my toes every single day, hence why I named them after Steve and Nat, but I had to admit that it gave me a reason to get up every day. 

Shuri continued to visit after her sessions with Bucky, saying that he was doing well. She wanted to be careful in removing the words from his mind. Hydra had done a number on his brain and even if she could remove the words, he would still have to deal with the mental thoughts of exactly what happened in his past. 

“You know,” Shuri said one day, “I saw a lot of memories involving you.” 

I went red with embarrassment. “You did?” 

She nodded. “He loves you very much. I think the thought of you is what’s keeping him alive. He’s dreaming peacefully now.” 

I raised my shoulders in confusion. “Then when will he wake up?” 

“I don’t know. Wherever he is ready,” Shuri admitted with a sigh. 

The sun had begun to set so after a long time trying to wrangle the goats into their pen for the night, I was ready to turn in myself another night of sleeping alone. 

“Dorogaya?” 

My heels spun around with a flash at the familiar name. Standing in front of me was a very refreshed and relaxed looking man. His missing arm was covered with a sling of fabric. The soft breeze had wrapped around us, blowing his hair away from his eyes that shined with the familiar light I missed so much. 

“Bucky?” I asked, words trembling. 

I was afraid this was another dream I was having. 

“I missed you,” he breathed while breaking out into a huge grin. 

The bottom of my feet sped through the tall grass towards him and even with one arm, he had caught me with ease. Our lips danced for the first time in months but they never missed a beat. It was a teeth smacking, tongue dancing, kiss that fueled the fire deep within and the pleasure I felt from the both of us was almost too much to handle. 

Reluctantly I pulled away but pinched his cheeks, just to make sure he was real. 

“Ow,” he hissed. “What was that for?” 

My smile reached my eyes, I was so happy. 

“Just making sure it’s really you.” 

He gave me another kiss. “I missed you.” 

I wrapped my arms around his neck, smelling the familiar scent; teakwood and mint. 

“I missed you too.” I admitted with a long sigh. 

Still in his grasp, he looked around our little home with a proud smile. “You’ve made a nice home for yourself.” 

Immediately I shook my head to correct him. “For us.” 

We shared another passionate kiss and I could feel his feet move, walking us towards our hut. 

“Show me around then, doll,” he hinted with a sly smirk. 

For the first time in a very long time, Bucky and I laid tangled together in a mess of sweaty flesh and knotted sheets. Everything was perfect again and I was going to hold on tight to him. Nothing would come between us. We would finally be able to start our lives together. 

My Soldat and his Dorogaya. 

[nekrosmos]

AO3

Loving Simon Riley was easy. From the moment they had first met, Soap had been endeared by the man. The Halloween costume? Kind of charming. Intimidating, sure, to constantly be by someone’s side whose stare could make any recruit shit themselves, face hidden behind a patched up mask meant to remove one’s identity, separating the man from the soldier. Anyone who saw Ghost from far away assumed him to be a legend, a broken shell of a man who had gone through so much that all was left behind was the echo of what he used. He was, in some ways, but he was so much more than that. 

It was the small things that Soap quickly learned to love. The way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he told a bad joke, visible despite the black makeup. How he would turn his head before lifting his mask when they were eating together, trying to hide his face even then. How his dark eyes caught the sunrises, orange beams reflecting so perfectly in the brown hue of his irises. The horrible shirts he always wore at the gym, either with bad jokes or shitty band design on them. The way he always stood behind Soap, always watching his back, always. 

When the two of them became more than brothers in arms, it was an entirely new person that Johnny learned to love, so many more details to discover. The way Simon loved to grab Johnny from the back, his big arms wrapping themselves around his form and pulling him closer to his chest, silent, placing kisses in the back of Soap’s neck, hot breath against his skin, as if he was afraid to lose him. How he always slept with his head facing the door, his back never turned to it. The light gray hair on his temples he always sighed when spotting. How he always stared at the rest of the world like he wasn’t truly a part of it, gaze losing itself for a moment as he watched people go by their lives, only coming back to his senses when Johnny approached him. 

It was easy to love Simon Riley, but Simon Riley didn’t believe that. 

Nothing had made this more obvious than the first time he had allowed Johnny inside his apartment. A small, cheap flat in Manchester, two rooms, a bedroom, a small balcony, elderly neighbors, cracks in the walls and mold in the corners, the kind of place you would expect for him. Simon had obviously been nervous about bringing Johnny home, even if the two had been together for a while then, the entire thing being unexpected as they had found themselves more drunk than they had anticipated and in need of a place to sleep for the night.

The inside was pretty much what Soap had expected. Bare-bones. No real decorum. No pictures on the walls. Neat for the most part. 

The kitchen was small, packed with the bare minimum, the fridge full of quick meals, cans and not much more. No plants, he had tried when he was younger but kept killing them, apparently. No animals, of course, who had time to take care of them with the job they both had. There was a shelf with books in them, although most of them were coated in a thick layer of dust. No mirrors, except for the one in the bathroom, which had clearly been broken by a large fist. One toothbrush, one towel, one razor, one bottle of shampoo. 

His bedroom had been the worst offender. A single person bed in a corner of the room. “We’ll make it work” he had told him. Again, no pictures, just a few postcards up on the wall near his desk. Soap recognized a few he had mailed him when the two had been sent on different side of the world. That made him smile. 

Fitting in the bed was difficult. It already would have been complicated to fit two normal-sized people in a single person bed, but two buff guys like them was a whole other challenge. Simon kept apologizing, his tone way too close to being shameful for Johnny’s liking. They found a comfortable enough position eventually, Ghost’s back against the cold wall while he held Soap tightly in his arms, their legs intertwined as best they could. 

There was silence as soon as they went to bed, but Johnny could feel that Simon wasn’t sleeping. His breathing against the back of his neck was steady, his fingers digging into his flesh, not painfully, but purposely. It had been difficult, then, to find the right words, but Johnny eventually talked, his voice almost a whisper in the strange quiet of the night. 

“Am I the first person you ever took home?” 

He knew the answer, of course, only confirmed by a quiet “yeah” he could feel against his skin. 

Johnny wanted to ask him why, but the signs around the flat were pretty telling. Simon had never settled here, never took root. It wasn’t uncommon, for men like them, to feel at odds with their civilian lives. The man versus the soldier. Simon versus Ghost. Of course, it was different for him. Rare were the soldiers who had gone through what he had gone through. The job had taken literally everything from him. His purpose, his family, his identity. Whoever Simon had been before all of this was long gone, replaced by an echo of the man he used to be, floating through life like a ghost, never really belonging anywhere, no tether to bring him back to the living, no one to remember him. 

Loneliness was a cruel affliction. Soap couldn’t recall how many times he had spotted Ghost back at base when he should have been gone and on leave. He asked him, then, many times, what he was doing here, and every single time, Simon would shrug, making up excuses about “catching up on some paperwork while he could”. 

Now that Johnny had seen what waited for Ghost once he got back “home”, it suddenly made a lot more sense.

Gently, Soap grabbed one of Simon’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the pale skin of his knuckles and intertwining his fingers with his, before turning around, almost falling out of the bed as he did so. 

“What are you doing?” Ghost asked, the darkness not enough to hide his puzzled expression. 

“Turn around, I want to hold ya.” 

A snort escaped Simon’s lips, almost mocking, as if he didn’t believe him. Well, he probably didn’t, and so Johnny insisted. 

“What? Don’t think I can spoon ya?” 

“The fuck you want to do this for, Johnny?” 

“Do I need a fucking reason? Jesus Christ, just turn around and let me hold you.” 

After another second of hesitation, Simon relented, turning around, face facing the wall as Johnny laid back down, his arms going around his bigger shape and getting as close to him as possible. Half of his ass was hanging from the bed but it was manageable, especially after Simon grabbed one of his arm, Johnny’s hand coming to rest on top of his heart. 

It was his turn to be able to kiss the back of Simon’s neck, lips gently meeting his cold skin while his free hands played with his hair, fingers tenderly brushing them as he felt his partner slowly relax in his arms. 

It was then that Johnny decided to offer Simon to come live with him. He would ask him, the next day, while the two would be preparing breakfast. He wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, just a casual mention. His flat was big enough for the both of them, Simon had been there already and liked the place, Johnny had a king-size bed, and a decorum that didn’t remind him of a prison cell. Hopefully, Simon would say yes, but if he didn’t, he would understand. Recovery was a slow process, and no matter what Simon decided, he would stick by his side, finding more ways every day to love the man he had fallen for. 

[differenteagletragedy]

In which Soap's significant other/spouse dies unexpectedly :(

“Aren’t you afraid of dying?”

It was a question Johnny had been asked countless times over the years: in hushed, anxious tones by his mother in visits home, when she still held onto hopes that her son would pick a safer life, and in slurred, almost voyeuristic voices from girls he’d pick up in bars.

And the answer was always no. An easy, thoughtless no, because he wasn’t, not really.

Now, as he stands in front of the mirror of the bedroom you used to share until you were taken from him, he realizes why.

The hard part isn’t in dying. If something were to happen to him on the field, it would likely be quick — a gunshot, an explosion, with no time to think about what it would mean to no longer exist. And even if his last moments were drawn out, there would be an ending to it in sight. A clear cap on whatever suffering there would be.

No, the hard part wasn’t in the idea of leaving this world. It was in being left.

Johnny takes a breath, tugging up the pants of his dress uniform -- the only nice clothes he had, and the ones he'd wear to bury you.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, and the weight of that knowledge threated to drag him down, so hard and heavy that he wasn't sure he'd be able to carry it. After he fell in love with you, really let himself fall and feel it, it broke his heart to know that someday he might die on you. Thoughts of your sweet, beautiful face, crumped and lined with tears when someone told you he'd never be coming home would flicker in his mind during missions sometimes, always unwelcome. They haunted him.

It never even crossed his mind that he'd be the one on the other side.

He shrugs on his jacket, lines still crisp from when he'd hung it up in the back of the closet after moving in with you, and quickly does up the buttons and tugs it into place. He looks at his reflection, but it's all wrong. Who gives a fuck about medals and ribbons and how nicely the seams are pressed when he's never going to hear your laugh again?

But it's not just that, the awkward formality of it all -- his eyes come up to his hair, too. He's always liked the mohawk (obviously he has, or he wouldn't have kept it this long), but seeing it now feels almost shameful in a way that doesn't necessarily make sense but still burns.

He's in the bathroom, decked out his dress blues with clumps of dark hair lining the sink, when Simon comes in.

Johnny barely remembers this -- some plans made at some point in the last week for Simon to come help him with everything. Did he give him a key, has he been locking the door? Ever since he got the news, things have been happening in waves of clarity and a strange foggy dissonance, so he can't be sure what's real, or if it matters.

The deep, familiar tone of Simon's voice as he says his name though ... that feels real. The feeling of his fingers brushing against his chest as he unbuttons his jacket and carefully dusts it off, countless tiny hairs falling to the floor, that's crystal clear.

Johnny's own voice sounds further away, a rush of words coming out that barely registers in his mind. "Feels like a fucking joke," he tells Simon, but what he's talking about, he's not exactly sure.

Simon tells him a number of things, rattling them off in clipped, calm sentences, enough to start to push through the fog, and he doesn't fight it when he takes the clippers from his hand and spins him around, saying something about cleaning him up.

"Just get through the day," his lieutenant tells him over the buzzing. It almost sounds like an order, and Johnny, ever the good soldier, gives an affirmative hum, like it's possible.

When Simon finishes with the clippers, he grabs Johnny's jacket again, holding it out for him to put back on, and when he does, he rebuttons it for him. He systematically goes over the insignia, strong, steady hands making sure everything is in order, and Johnny could almost weep at the small relief of not having to worry about one more thing.

But more than that, Simon's hands feel like an anchor, like a tangible weight holding him to now. There's warmth radiating from his body, and it's not like yours -- he doesn't think he'll ever be able to find a warmth like yours again -- but it's there. It's something, and after days of wallowing in your empty home, smelling your pillow and cradling your clothes and letting himself cry in a way that he hasn't since he was a child, it's a hell of a lot better than nothing.

"You ready?"

Simon's words are phrased like a question, but Johnny picks up on the tone -- another order. It's time.

And he's not ready, not even close. His stomach turns at the thought of seeing your lifeless body laid out in a casket in clothes he picked, and everything in him is screaming, telling him to run, far and fast and hard, from all of this.

But, as always, he's been hardwired to obey his superiors. So instead, he nods.

The funeral is unbearable, but somehow, Johnny bears it. And later, when the grief has settled into an old achy wound instead of bared nerves burning, he'll know that it was because of Simon. Because of his presence beside him, an occasional hand on his shoulder, calloused and sure, that kept him tethered to him when all he wanted to do was float away.

[slaaverin]

I don't know what others are believing and foe tkkrs those losers are soo pathetic that they still believe jungkook doens't have jimin's number like imagine being this committed to hating jm and jkk that you don't even use 0.1% of your brain and would rather live in that bubble.

Anyways, for my own sanity and keeping the expectations too low i believe that when Jungkook and jimin shared a room together when they were trainees exactly like how what they said in AYS and hence they used to go to shower at the same time hence "sang this song together Almost daily" tigthen after they got assigned their duty they might have stopped sharing a room maybe because the cooks could be sleeping in a separate room, not too away from jm's room of course it could simply be a room next to his. Just to ensure or to make sure that ppl with the same schedule can wake up and sleep around the same time. But as jungkook said he finishes his work and goes to jimin and they talk, Sometimes they go away from others and have their talk and spend time together and maybe then they go to their respective rooms. See "having conversation before bed" doens't necessarily means they sleep in the same room and it doens't even matter honestly because they obviously are unconscious in sleep but what matters is despite having different schedules or duty they still go to eachother right after they finish their duty and even have their little private time away from the soldiers. it's these efforts that matters more than anything.

I agree with you anon,

Personally those specific details are not important to me.

They talk before going to sleep, share time together, sing in the shower, support each other ant that's all that matters.

I see people bickering about specifics but honestly who cares.

Nobody can know for sure until they will tell us themselves when they get out so everyone needs only to be a little patient.

The only thing that irks me is people trying to use this once again to prove they are not close or something. Do they have to sleep next to each other to be close? of course not. But I guess some are trying to claw onto anything because of desperation. That shows how little they have to go on to try to prove anything with this, when jikook are already enlisted together and obviously spend a lot of time together.

Until they get out they will still have the audacity to make other people believe they don't see each other at all ????? Common sense is out the window.

But as I said they would go to any length to prove they are right.

Let's watch their ego dance like circus monkeys clinging to anything and everything. It's pretty funny when you think about how absurd it all is.

Better to laugh about it than crying I guess

Can't wait to see them kicking and screaming when jikook will say "SO JUNGKOOK WAS LYING ON MY PILLOW" or something 😂 and telling so many cute stories. Ah, the chaos that will ensue.

I'll be there watching with popcorn

Fun times ahead :D

[lotus-pear]

i think you guys are onto smth..

i unironically got invested in this HELP

[yumesei]

The fear of mischaracterizating your f/o </3

[vigilskeep]

rlly enjoying playing a little brosca, idk if i’ll stick with her long but she tends to go for the dialogue options that i don’t usually pick so the dialogue feels a lot fresher which is a hugeee win when u have played the intro as many times as i have

[cobra-creampuff]

we went over the 14yr long torture session in my last therapy visit actually, and i told her that toward the end i was fantasizing about and then actively considering walking into traffic because if i got catastrophically injured then they would have to treat my pain. and she told me that's not an uncommon thing for people to do. that she has heard that many times before.

like think about that. we are so moralistic about drug use and have politicized a particular type of medicine so much, and doctors are so uncompassionate toward and even suspicious of patients who are in pain because of it, that it's NOT UNCOMMON for people who are otherwise not suicidal to start completely genuinely longing to get hit by a fucking car just for the chance to be oh so graciously provided the absolute bare fucking minimum of care.

think about how many different things have pain as a symptom. how many things have pain as the only symptom the patient is aware of. how many of them are life or death crises. heart attacks. blood clots. strokes. bleeding ulcers. those are just what i can think of off the top of my fucking head, AND I'M NOT A FUCKING DOCTOR.

what i had, for example, feels exactly like appendicitis. and they left it for fourteen years because my only symptom was excruciating pain and i didn't fit their stupid little (completely unsupported by evidence, btw) diagnostic mnemonic. if it had been appendicitis, or anything else as immediately deadly that "just" hurts, i would have fucking died the same night i got sent home from the emergency room with "medical" "advice" to take some tylenol and rest - for the first time, that is. out of dozens. how many people do die that way?

because addicts are Bad. and because doctors are too arrogant and biased to practice medicine on the basis of evidence and informed consent when the profit model and conservative propaganda make it soooo easy to stay in the good old days of paternalism instead.

[gingaswag]

actually yeah i still think its very reductive to just say that the tf2s would all be progressive to avoid thinking about them possibly being bigoted in any way.

[daydreamerdrew]

All-New Captain America (2015) #4 and #2-4 and #6

[losersimonriley]

Wait a minute hold on while I’m on my mwiii bullshit rn shouldn’t someone (ghost) have given soap cpr?????

[nicoisastar]

i’m so ready for tsats but what i’m not ready for is looking through the tag to see [redacted] shippers criticizing & demonizing every little nico and will interaction in the book 😪

[cervinae-canine]

i hope it's okay to say this here because i saw the post you made about heavymedic shippers but as a woman who selfships with them as a polycule it honestly hurts me alot when people say that women are not allowed to ship themselves with medic or heavy because they're gay and wouldn't like them back. these characters make me happy. why am i not allowed to find comfort in them? because it goes against your made up headcanons? i don't understand why people have such a superiority complex over something as up to interpretation as fictional characters' sexualities.

it's the misogyny.

[kolboette]

seeing teens on twitter thirsting after josh hutcherson in the fnaf movie after being in the trenches every day in the early-mid 2010’s fighting the “peeta mellark IS hot, actually!” war is crazy