#and right side of course

[king-lena]

watermour + text post meme (part 38) // inspiration credit to @watermourdivorce and their top tier watermour coded reblogs

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Maybe we never had a chance.

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[nibbelraz]

Pls consider MBJ looking between his spy and his spy's didi and just trying to make sense of these two

POV: you are Mobei Jun looking at your loyal servant glare absolute murderous daggers at you while his younger brother (that you didn't know about) is just staring at you weirdly

[technically-human]

Misunderstandings part 1/3

This is what happens when you don't talk to each other, boys.

@i-am-as-normal-as-you-are commissioned this one, and as you can see, it will have three parts, so go thank Haunted if you like it!

[polkadotjohnson]

Murderbot 3 - Risk Assessment (2025)

[fyllophobia]

[primus-why]

I love the idea of Ratchet being captured while badly injured. It wasn't necessarily on purpose-- he knows the Cons would love to take him prisoner in order to utilize his medical skills, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Once they realized he was a medic they pulled him from the rubble and got him on a slab pretty quickly all things considered. The trouble is there's a reason the Cons value medical expertise-- he's bleeding out, they don't have enough supplies, and at this rate Ratchet knows he's gonna die. So with whatever strength he can muster he gets the attention of one of the grunts working on him.

Ratchet: H... hey... I need you... to pass on a message...

Con 1: To who, your Prime? Not gonna happen.

Con 2: Yeah we don't really do the 'any last words' thing.

Ratchet: No... *wheeze* to Deadlock.

Con 1 & 2: *go still*

Ratchet: Tell 'im... I'll... be waiting... for him...

Con 2: Wait a klik...

Con 1: ... You don't think--?

Con 2: -- Frag! Oh frag!! His vitals!!! Dealock is gonna kill us!!

Con 1: Scrap! Get Soundwave on the line, have him patch to the DJD!

Con 2: He's not gonna make it! I don't want them to know my face!

Con 1: It. won't. matter. If we wait, it'll look worse!

Con 2: Oh Primus, I hope they don't pick up...

Con 1: Just go!!!

Ratchet: ... I'm waitin' to... kick his aft... *passes out*

[sysig]

Blind side (Patreon)

[herrmit]

most ridiculous takes i've seen thus far have been the "ohhhh mark doesn't deserrrveee gemma so its actually a good thing that he walked away" type shit. 😐 its like. hey you care about this character? you care about her agency in the narrative? you care about her happiness? then maybe its time to fucking listen to her when she says she wants her husband back!!!!!! she wants her dead wife!!!!! some of y'all acting like gemma is a plot device that mark does or does not get to have when she is a fully fleshed-out character in her own right! a character who has routinely expressed a desire to a) get out of hell, b) take back the life she was ripped away from, and c) be with her husband!! desires she just so happens to share with outie mark! and its messy of course it's messy this show is messy and thats the point. but some people are all-too-eager to ignore the established character she is in favour of what they wish she was. take the loose thread of "mark dead wife" that doesn't fit into the desired narrative and tie it all off into a neat bow....... absurd.

[strryhaze]

jack kennedy who never had to live in a world without his older brother, losing him in one brutal punch of an instant and never getting to say goodbye. then keeping an older bobby at a distance, more than he’d ever done in the past, seeming almost purposeful, for a long time until joe sr. forced them onto a trip together.

all of a sudden, jack had no choice but to hear his little brother’s shockingly astute insights, his dry wit - which had jack doing a double take with how similar it was to joe jr’s, only difference being that bobby’s sounded a lot more self-deprecating in nature. that serious face of his was etched onto his skin forever, no doubt about that, but there’d been a moment on the trip when that intensity quieted down to a hum. it happened when jack got sick on the trip, violently, feverishly sick. unanticipatedly so.

death had visited jack’s doorstep more often than most; over time, he had developed a sixth sense of sorts that never failed him even past his delirium, of knowing when death lingered nearby - the nurses and their barely-concealed panic, the doting pity, the clattering of nerves, the weary sighs. nothing new. even as he sweated through the sheets, he sensed the shift in the room instantly and the tell-tale signs that followed. a priest was summoned. last rites were murmured at the edge of his bed. everything was quiet except the pounding in his chest. even when he wasn’t sick, he always heard that same godforsaken pounding in his dreams. the pounding in his chest that reminded him that the noise, the beat after beat after beat, could stop at any moment. he wanted it to stop, for the sake of his sanity more than anything, but then the reminder of what that truly entailed would always snap him into high alert. these thoughts, uncontrollable and unshakeable, drove him mad at times, always worsened his delirium. he tried not to delve too deep into that sort of thinking, no use in it at all, but the sight of the priest had really done him in. as the nurses moved around in a hectic rotation, jack attempted to steady his own breathing, but to no avail. that’s when bobby stepped in.

he entered the room calmly, steadily, so unlike his usually impatient footsteps, as if yet another sibling wasn’t one cough away from death. he began murmuring assurances here and there, touching shoulders, nodding politely at the priest and thanking him for his service, slowly mellowing out the stifled room. such simple details in the grand scheme of things, but there was something to that. jack had expected something else - a big show, an impetuous jab perhaps - joe jr kept appearing in and out of his fever-induced dreams - barking orders, the way their father did, something of the like. truth was, he hadn’t expected bobby at all. he hadn’t expected bobby to sit at the edge of his bed, right on top of the covers. he beckoned a nurse over and whispered something in her ear, her response was long and furtive, but it made bobby smile for some reason. been worse, always comes through. tough as nails, he is, were the only words jack managed to catch. and the rasp of his voice, low and even, settled the entire room, settled everyone, including jack. bobby’s presence had steadied him. there was a moment during the worst of it, jack half out of it and moaning, when bobby rushed over and tried to give him some water to help alleviate the discomfort. an incoherent jack, bleary-eyed and dazed, but still conscious enough to refuse to be babied by his little brother, shook his head stubbornly, and left bobby with no choice but to practically force the water down his throat. c’mon, jack, you can keep coping heroically all you want, just chug the damn thing. he said it so seriously, a worried wrinkle creasing in between his brows, that jack, semi-conscious, stifled a weak laugh. a few drops of water dribbled down his chin before bobby cursed and reached for a rag, wiping him clean with the focus of a damn mother much to jack’s groaned protests.

and jack felt it then, through the damp haze of sickness - the odd, disarming sense of being taken care of like this by family, for the first time ever. not managed, not placated, not tolerated, or tossed into a room to be forgotten and taken care of clinically by strangers, but watched over without an ounce of shame or awareness of themselves. this was the first time a brother had gone out of his way to be kind to him, to jump into the deep end and tend to the gaping wound with something akin to devotion. straight from the bone, pure instinct. they never mentioned it again, one of those things men tuck into the back of their minds to save face, but they didn’t have to utter a word about it anyway. jack never forgot it.

[made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad]

Oh nothing, just this photo of martrip

[mashandmartinis]

Thinking about how every man Margaret has been in love with was a personification of the army in one way or another:

First we have Frank, Major, patriot and a stickler for military rules. Annoying, not nearly as masculine as the other men Margaret is attracted to later on. But he symbolises army values, the patriotism that forms a driving force in career military personnel.

Then there's Lieutenant Colonel Donald Penobscott, emphasis on the Lieutenant Colonel (as Margaret herself rarely fails to mention when she talks about her husband) who symbolises rank and status, and (as shown during the Olympics episode) a certain amount of athletic masculinity associated with the military.

Enter Scully, soldier gone AWOL, officer, private, manly and (the first time Margaret sees him) covered in front line grime. Scully symbolises the very basic traits associated with the army: masculinity in a very specific soldierly way, carrying the front line on his skin and uniform, ranked (until he isn't).

Margaret has never loved men. She's been in love with the army all along.

[jectica]

[namelessprince]

spent the last 2 days thinking about what animals pd characters would be :3

[xxplastic-cubexx]

reminding his ass its PRIDE this month

[MARVEL Voices: Pride #1 (2021) - 'Early Thaw']

[izar-tarazed]

First time at the spirit shelter, time to adopt a giant three-headed puppy.