#the men ain't that terrible to look at either
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Dancing with One Piece Men
ACE
The only one on this list that can actually dance or at least has a real sense of rhythm I'm so sorry
He's not shy about dancing either
Is shy about slow dancing with you in front of people, that's just for yall
Loves dancing with you during celebrations on the ship!!! HE WILL LITERALLY GRAB YOU FROM YOUR SEAT AND SWING YOU AROUND
His joy is your joy and vice versa and will keep you laughing the whole time
Gets really close to you, especially when he's drunk, like noses almost touching
Did I mention spinning?? He'll spin you around and around until you're both dizzy, flushed and sweating and then wobble over to a seat with you to recover and laugh with everyone
LUFFY
Have you ever seen the OG Disney Jungle Book movie? Remember the orangutan? Yeah? That's how Luffy dances. Lots of arm swinging and shimmying
Doesn't mind dancing but like...food first
Man, all that dancing worked up an appetite! Time for more food!
You might have to see Chopper the next morning because of how much he pulls your arms while dancing your poor shoulder joints lol
So unserious about it so there's no reason to be self concious because Luffy's already acting a fool enough for both of you
You both end up falling asleep wherever you are, completely tuckered out. Zoro will inevitably have to carry you both to bed except Luffy's hand is still holding yours so you're definitely sharing a bed
SANJI
Okay, but the hilarity of trying to grind up on this man? He'd die. Cause of death: blood loss lol. It's okay, he's had a good run
He's such a romantic, I think he'd actually prefer to slow dance with you and is kind of bummed it's a party
Would definitely inspire him to slow dance with you more
Holds you really close
Hands on your waist or lower absolutely lower
Can't actually dance though and looks incredibly goofy, as long as no one says anything zoro it'll be fine
Can dip you though and it's really hot
You probably don't dance for very long because he's a horny gremlin but you love it
ZORO
"Pleeeeaaaassssseeee"
"Over my dead body, y/n"
There ain't no way you're getting this man to dance
Pulling him off the wall or out of his chair is like trying to pull a mountain from it's spot
Will tap his foot though
Really likes watching you because it's hot and because you're happy and let's be honest Zoro wants to see you happy
You're the best view there besides the sake
Make him jealous and dance with another guy? Well, y'all won't be at the party much longer because you're fucking in the bathroom
If hell froze over and you did get him to dance it's so stiff and terrible you burst out laughing immediately
LAW
It's only because he loves you that he shows up at all, dancing is pushing it
Dance on him and he will switch himself with a chair at least he won't let you fall on your ass
You can try pulling him up but you won't get very far either. He might swing his arms with yours lamely but that's it
He will slow dance with you alone in his room or the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning and actually really likes holding you close
Dancing is so foreign to him and it shows lol, you got him to dance once in private because you were insanely curious and Law genuinely has no memories of ever dancing in his 26 years of life and uh...he kind of dances like Wednesday Addams but it's cute to you
He'll dance with you in private now but it has to be a very very special circumstance
#zoro x reader#luffy x reader#law x reader#sanji x reader#ace x reader#one piece x reader headcanon#one piece x reader#one piece
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Lin Kuei Bros: Play Fighting
Smoke so dramatic-. Anyway, don’t ask why I thought of this. The voices were loud
Bi-Han
Play fighting with any of them is bold as fuck but HIM? You don't like your life
I'm not saying he's gonna straight up assault you but out of all the brothers, he has the highest chance of hitting you hard as shit on accident
He probably wouldn't even like play fighting that much. He'd prefer sparring cause at least you're working on your skills. Why you just fucking around?
You gotta catch him on the right day. Some days he's busy and some days he's just legit not in the mood.
“Imma start it off slow. Imma scope the scenery out-”
If you somehow get this man to cooperate, first of all good job. Second of all, y'all do not stop until you give up.
The type to pin you down and not let go until you admit he won. If you refuse, you're legit not moving.
This is a big guy so you're not moving him. You give up, he lets go and you manage to crack a smile out of him
We never see him smile in the game but listen bitch, I'm here for the fantasy-
If he's not in the mood, I can see him just saying “no” like you're a puppy or smth.
You'd go to swing on him again and he'd either grab your hand or give you a look that tells you he's being serious
Going back to him accidentally hitting you hard as shit, he's used to sparring with two other buff ass men. Imma guess you're not as buff as them, and some of y'all reading this ain't men. Accidents are bound to happen
You'd think the Grandmaster would have more control but I just think it slips sometimes. He's stupidly prideful and he's used to sparring so sometimes that's where his mind goes. Also once again, he probably sometimes forgets a hit Kuai Liang could handle is a hit that'll take years off your life.
I would love to say he gets on his knees and apologizes but this is the same man who betrayed his brothers and was like “why y'all tweaking?” so um…
You're gasping for air and he's “see why I always say no?”
I feel like I'm making him sound abusive but as someone who's play fought with my older siblings, they hit you hard as shit then tell you you're a bitch when a tear slips out. Why the fuck are you hitting me this hard in my chest? You got 5+ years on me-
He's an older brother. He's gonna hit hard. I swear it's in their DNA
And if he does apologize it's not really verbal. He checks to make sure your limbs are alright then offers to do something else.
“Are you gonna say you're sorry?” “For?” “For almost breaking my damn lung” “You started this”
You'd expect that the next time you wanna play fight he'd decline cause he doesn't wanna hurt you again. Wrong.
Remember he's an older brother. THE older brother. Y'all squaring up again. You don't care about your health so fuck it.
Honestly would be super fun besides the limb you're gonna lose
Kuai Liang
Would be more cooperative than Bi-Han but still isn't overly excited to play fight
Bi-Han is the “tell mom. I don't care” older brother. Kuai Liang is the “wait wait wait, I'm sorry. You can hit me back. Calm down. You want some candy?” older brother
Fully aware he could cause terrible injuries but as time passes on, he relaxes more
Definitely play fought as a kid but after Tomas started jumping everytime he heard his voice, he thought “maybe I need new hobbies”.
You’ve interrupted his recovery
He actively focuses on holding back and being soft even if you tell him not to
“Hit me harder” “No❤”
Honestly a fun time though. He holds back when it comes to strength but still tussles with you. Also let's you get hits in even when he could easily dodge them.
If he accidentally injured you frfr, he's checking up on you immediately and says y'all stopping for today.
“No, I'm ok” “Can you even breathe right now?” “Uhhh… yes😀” “We're done”
For sure feels like an asshole depending on how bad you're hurt. He's not sliding down the wall in pain but he's like “damn, that was a little too hard”.
“You can hit me back” “No. I've seen Twilight” “What?” “It's gonna hurt me more than it's gonna hurt you. I'm not doing that”. (Now I wanna write you making them watch Twilight. I'm never gonna be rid of this addiction-)
You gotta hit him back so y'all can be even. It's the only way to move on
Y'all are not doing that shit again for at least another week or so.
“We gotta scrap right here right now” “No”
Does the thing older siblings do when they put their hand on your head so when you swing at them, you're just hitting air.
It's so infuriating so you gotta stop.
The next time though, you swear you're gonna win. You will not.
Tomas Vrbada
The most willing and having the most fun
Tomas has two older brothers that probably jumped him on several occasions growing up and you're gonna try and convince me he doesn't have aggression to get out?
People would probably expect he's the softest but no. He's the youngest. As the youngest myself I can assure you, we are used to putting our all in these fights cause we gotta use all our strength to defeat these evil mfs we live with. Sometimes it's not enough-
You're not his older sibling so he's not scrapping like his life depends on it but I do think he's hitting somewhat hard
Not as hard as Bi-Han, not as soft as Kuai Liang
You feel his hits but it's not knocking the wind outta you
Super fun cause he's also using the environment. Definitely is grabbing a pillow and starts swinging it at you. Definitely is running around the couch to chase you. Definitely has thrown you but made sure to aim at something soft. He's probably even turned off the lights then threw a folded blanket at you
“Cheater” “Don't be upset you didn't think of it first”
You're fighting but laughing at the same time. There's no real tension. Just fucking around.
Probably starts initiating it too
If he does injure you fr, for a split second he'd actually see it as a victory then he'd remember you're not his older brothers and is like “oh shit-”.
Injuring those two would mean freedom (or a worse jumping. really depends), injuring you is not good.
He knows how bad those hits can hurt so he makes sure you're alright. He's not watching you as much as Kuai Liang would but he'd still make sure you're not overly sore.
He doesn't feel as bad as Kuai Liang would cause he kinda knows this shit happens. Kuai Liang kinda got a little bit of guilt cause Tomas gets into a fighting stance when he raises his hand up. Tomas hasn't victimized anyone so he's more chill about these situations 😭
Tells you random ass stories about when he used to play fight with his brothers.
“One time Bi-Han threw me in the air and Kuai Liang jumped to catch me only to throw me against the wall”
“This reminds me of when Bi-Han swept my feet from under me and Kuai Liang jumped on me”
“What is it called when someone jumps on you elbow first?”
“This one time I woke up to them standing over me. I knew it was a wrap”
“One time Bi-Han slapped the back of my neck so hard, it was red for at least a week”
“One time Kuai Liang-” “Tomas… you need a therapist” “I don't think that's what it is”
Unlike Kuai Liang who makes you wait, he's cool with scrapping days later.
Actually says “time out” when he wants a break. Also says “time in” fast as fuck though to catch you off guard
Legit the most fun brother. I don't make the rules (except I do).
I did not mean to write the least for Kuai Liang but I was really brain empty for him. Y’all should give me ideas, thanks bookie
#bi han x y/n#bi han x reader#bi han sub zero#mk1 bi han#kuai liang#kuai liang x y/n#kuai liang x reader#kuai liang scorpion#kuai liang mk1#tomas vrbada#tomas vrbada smoke#tomas vrbada x y/n#tomas vrbada x reader#mk1#mk1 2023#mk1 x reader#mk1 x y/n#mk1 x you#lin kuei#lin kuei brothers#legit in love with all three of them#making grown buff men bby girls#babygirlification
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2k follower special <3!!!
THANK YOU SO SO MUCH TO MY BEAUTIFUL 2,000+ FOLLOWERS!!
even though I have bouts of inactivity and a lot of inconsistency in my work, I am so thankful for all your support and love <3 as a thank you, have a short 2k special featuring my most popular boys, Liam & Deimos!
may be suggestive at the start;;; and big poly vibes
"you're doing so good taking us both, songbird... aren't they, pretty boy?", Deimos purrs.
Liam gives a whiny response, "fuck... where'd you learn to move like that, y/n? you didn't even give me a chance to finish you!"
your hands grip further into the controller in your hands, a minor migraine beginning to form, "please refrain from using dirty words while I'm kicking both of your asses in Tekken."
you feel the sofa where the three of you were lying down shifting from both sides, as you had been seated in between both men.
on the left, Deimos who was leaning himself on your shoulder shifted his head on your lap. his nose and lips snuggling themselves into the lower region of your torso. he sighs, "just let poor Lili win at least once, songbird... it's late and I need you in the bedroom as my favourite body pillow."
on the right, Liam had left the comfort of the sofa and moved to the floor, sitting right next to your legs. with his most pathetic puppy eyes, he begs while hugging your right leg, "pleaseee baby, let me win!! I need at least one win so I can go to bed in peace tonight..."
"no. both of you need to leave right now, go to bed!"
this was another one of their tactics to get you to sleep with them (you have a terrible sleep schedule). which isn't a bad thing, you love sleeping in between them.
but most of the time, it really really sucks- like in a suffocating way. by that you mean sandwiched between two pairs of defined and humongous man tits type of suffocating. and they always have you cornered or have their hands on you all night, so there's absolutely zero chance of you getting away from their tight grasp. it's as if their bodies are trying to fuse us together.
this was your way of saving yourself. by going to sleep later than them, they would be forced to lay next to each other instead, therefore giving you a fresh supply of oxygen through the night!
..... which is what you had planned in mind. but fate and two overly clingy adult men had other plans by accompanying you until you finally succumbed to sleep.
"look, I still need to finish the story mode, so you guys just go ahead first- AAAH!!"
Deimos picks your body up over his shoulder with ease, "ain't no way we're leaving you, I need my pillow."
Liam looks at you with a pitiful smile, "and I need my baby next to me."
"nooo... why won't you two just snuggle each other instead? you guys always suffocate me in your sleep", you complain.
"cause you're you. and we like it better when you're with us."
Deimos bellows as he opens the door to your shared bedroom, "yeah right! ya just need y/n to rub one out at night!"
"don't act so holy either, Deimos." Liam glares at him from behind.
lord, please save me from these idiots...
#yandere#original yandere character#yandere x reader#yandere boy#yandere male#yanblr#male yandere#yandere art#yancore#yandere writing#yandere x darling#yandere themes#yandere x you#yandere boyfriend#yandere blog#soft yandere#tw yandere#yandere scenarios#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc#oc art#oc#artists on tumblr#original character#yandere male x reader#male yandere x reader#x reader#gender neutral reader#reader insert#yandere x y/n
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LISTEN LISTEN 🗣️🗣️I Remember Everything by Zach Bryan is SO ABSOLUTELY Rhett Abbott having a fight with you and making up CODED i need someone to write this so bad
OH GOD NONNY!!!!! I am so sorry that this is so late in coming but the squeak I had let out when I saw this!!
It had been a long week for both you and Rhett. He felt terrible about the fight you two had gotten into one night, a simple mistake really, but one that you didn't wish to make again. Tensions in the house were already high and everybody was on their last nerve, the stress of getting your home built up in Bozeman and the stress of getting all the paperwork in so that you and Rhett would have legal custody of Amy.
You sniffed away the tears, your hands buried in your face even as Pongo, your beloved Dalmatian whined and licked your face. Perdita wasn't too far behind him either, settling in beside you with her head in your lap.
You turned every thought over in your head as you watched the gorgeous sunset of early spring, the days much warmer and much lighter now, listening for the little baby monitor on the porch just in case Amy started crying.
God why does this shit have to be so fucking hard.......?! You thought.
Why did it? It shouldn't have been that hard and yet it was. You wiped away the tears from your stinging, reddened eyes, watching the hills with every hope that your husband would come back. You heard the storm door on the porch hiss and click shut along with the clunk of your father-in-law's boots.
"Hey sweetheart," Royal said, seating himself beside you. "Ya'll ok?"
"I dunno Roy," you croaked. "I'm so sorry for whatever happened......."
""Don't you dare be sorry (y/n)," Royal told you. "This ain't your fault. There's just alot of tension in the house right now and us Abbott men tend to let it get the better of us."
You nodded as Royal handed you a mason jar full of his homemade spiked apple cider. It was so smooth you couldn't even taste the alcohol in it.
"Why does shit have to be this hard?" you croaked.
"Sometimes shit gets hard so that we can appreciate life more," Royal mused. "I know it sounds fucked up, but if ya'll go through life expectin everything to be handed to ya then what's really the point of it all?"
"You think so?"
"Not a doubt honey," Royal answered. "S'a real harsh lesson to learn. My Ma and my Pa learned that the hard way too and so didn't I. Ya'll should've heard the stories from when Cece and I were startin out."
"That bad?"
"Her temper got real hot one night after her younger brother stole money from her," Royal said with a chuckle. "She thought I was him walkin through that door and chucked a kitchen knife right at me."
You suddenly laughed through your tears as Royal went into detail about his and Cecelia's younger years, just starting out on the ranch as a young married couple with no idea of what the fuck they were doing. Deep down you felt better, but a nervous pang welled in your chest when you saw the familiar sight of Rhett's truck pulling up the gravel driveway. You saw Pongo and Perdita bounding down the steps to go and greet Rhett as he pulled out a bag from the back containing his and Royal's dinner orders from The Handsome Gambler.
"All good Dad?" he asked.
"Yeah just sharin a before dinner drink with (y/n)," Royal explained. "You free tomorrow or no?"
"I've got some stuff goin on," Rhett answered, running a hand through his hair. "Chester needs some help down at the farm across the street from the school."
"Alright, just curious, that's all," Royal said with a shrug. "Here, I've gotta go in and help your Ma with the laundry for a few."
Royal disappeared inside, leaving the two of you alone on the porch. Rhett quickly noticed the look on your face and tilted your chin so that your gazes met.
"Baby I am so, so sorry," he apologized, his voice croaking a little.
"Rhett, it was my fault, I made a mistake and....."
Rhett quickly drew you into his arms and pressed a heated kiss to your lips. "Hey," he said. "We both made a dumb mistake and we own up to it. Ya'll know I'll never walk out and leave you right?"
You nodded, the tears starting again.
You and Rhett sat on those steps for what felt like forever, nearly forgetting that dinner was waiting. You, Rhett, Royal and Cecelia all sat out on the porch and ate together, all of you listening just in case Amy woke up. Rhett curled his arm around you and pressed a kiss to your lips, the lingering taste of a cheeseburger still on his lips and the both of you closer than ever.
#rhett abbott#rhett abbott x reader#royal abbott#cecelia abbott#royal x cecelia abbott#amy abbott#outer range
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HEY GUYS, THIS IS A MASSIVE RANT. I SENT MY FRIEND, thought u guys might wanna see it too 😜 cause it's about the Gallagher sisters, mainly 😘😘 IT PROBS DONR ALL MAKE SENSE anywayyy
Something I really like in shameless is how well the woman characters are written. The ones that we are meant to hate (Karen and sammi) are very good at making us hate them without their actions making no sense yk. They ain't just doing crazy shit so that u hate them they are just deeply flawed people. When Karen has her whole emo phase that makes sense to me. She's a clearly mental ill girl who has suffered alot. Yeah she cuts her hair and dyes it she makes bad choices but in a way that makes sense for her. I hate sammi for what she did to Ian and mickey but she had a reason. Sammi had her child taken away from her ofc she's gonna act a irrationally.
I reallyyy like Debbie and Fiona. They get alot of hate but I really think that'd because they don't take time to understand the characters. They aren't made to be hated but they are strong minded woman so ofc they get hate. One of the main cristisms of Debbie's character is that she is unappreciative, selfie and a bad mother . Debbie is a little rude, but the other stuff just makes no sense. Fiona gives alot of raise her siblings and Debbie shows she values that from the start of the show. She is constantly trying to look out for fiona because even at a young age she understood that fiona didn't have anyone to help her. Debbie (same as fiona) takes on alot of responsibility from a young age. You would think that the person who went through something that fiona can very much relate to would understand her right? It's crazy to me that so many people don't think that. The fact that Debbie takes on so much responsibility shows she isn't selfie and it shows she values fiona because she has always be willing to help. Debbie does do bad things ofc that's the point of the show but if u compare it to some of the male characters (like Frank who has done terrible things) the hate she gets is extremely disproportionate.
Fiona gets alot of hate for her relationships and that she is always "demanding praise". There is alot of valid criticism of fionas parenting that can be made such as her reactions to Ian being in a relationship with Jimmy Steve's dad or the fact she left Liam when she leaves the show. First I wanna talk about how she is "always demanding praise". I think that is very easily explained as that she didn't get any her whole childhood. Fiona had to start looking after her siblings as younge as 5 and even then she had to hear Frank dismiss her work for years. We know fiona was good at track and was in team at school but she had to drop out of school so she no longer had academic validation either. To her she had to give up everything to raise her siblings her childhood was taken from her it makes sense she wants to feel appropriated. Now the more interesting one to me. How fiona handles relationships, this will be alot of me guessing what her childhood was like cause we get hardly enough information
Fiona from the first season is presented as a 'slut' (I HATE THAT WORD) and given that she did have so much adult responsibility as a little girl I don't think it's far off to think that she falls into the "girl who thinks she's mature for her age and dated older men" pit. The fact that she so thinks Ian and ned is "just sex" enough tho ned is fucking dinosaur kinda strengthens that idea for me. She thinks it's normal for Ian because it was normal for her. Given that fiona wasn't getting parental or academic validation I can see her finding it through sex and less than healthy relationships. That why i think she goes back to Jimmy Steve when she knows he's not good for her, thats why she sleeps with her boss and his brother. Unhealthy and bad relationships are what she grew up with.
This kinda makes me wanna talk about how Debbie and fiona are just so similar. They have lots of shared experiences and often make the same mistakes/ choices. Debbie also finds herself in unhealthy relationships. Plus, they are both queer (ik fiona isn't canon, but we all remember Jasmine fiona is defo bi ). Fiona sadly is unable to keep her little sister from becomes in some ways like her. I think Debbie sees that. she has always understood fiona, so when she's starting to take a more "motherly " roll for the Gallaghers, she probably sees that she's the "new fiona". Unlike fiona tho Debbie has a real chance of giving franny a better life than her, franny doesn't have to grow up in a home where every one is fighting for themselves as much as they fight for each other. Franny won't take up so much responsibility like fiona and Debbie. THIS IS WHY SAYING DEBBIE IS A BAD MOTHER IS FUCKING STUPID.
ANYWAY, fiona isn't a perfect parent because she's not a parent. She's an older sister. She can't fill that role even if she did do everything right. Debbie isnt selfie, she grew up too fast and understands fiona to a level where that's enough, she doesn't always need to outwardly tell fiona "she's so thankful" "she's so proud" because she just gets it. Karen and sammi are well written characters.
Ofc I like Karen a whole lot more than I sammi. Karen actually means so much to me. She's gets even more hate then Debbie like ik that's the purpose of her character but I feel like they hating her for the wrong reasons. AND THUS IS ME ONLY TALKING ABOUT FI AND DEBBIE SO TELL ME IF U WANT TO KNOW ABOUT MANDY AND SVET OR LIKE KAREN MORE
#GOT JUDGE MY WRITING SKILLS rahhh#i love debbie#i love Fiona#fiona gallagher defender#debbie gallagher#debbie Gallagher defender#fiona gallagher#karen shameless#karen jackson#sammie shameless#shameless rant#shameless us#shameless
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182 Days of TPN - Day 173
Chapter 173: "Prisoners"
My immense dislike towards Peter often leads me to making fun of him, but he ain't a cute kid. I dunno any child his age (however old he is here) to look that happy with wearing a full suit. Normal children would complain.
I know Norman isn't related to the James at all, but I still enjoy how so many people joke or theorize about it solely based on how he took on the WM persona and how similar they look at a first glance. Not just by the hair and outfit either, but even their actions, like you can't look at this panel and not be reminded of that one panel of Norman from ch126. It's so memorable that I don't even have to place it here to compare the two because of how identical it is to James here.
Imagine if James never found that old document. The world would continue on suffering under the farm system rules forever and we wouldn't even have our story. Maybe. Ray would probably still question his existence and the world whether or not James hides clues in the books in the GF library. It would certainly be more difficult for the kids to survive outside the farm though without using the pen for guidance, if they could manage the escape in the first place.
Peter, for once in your life, can you please just act like a normal child? Who hears of someone sacrificing others for their own gain and thinks, "oh, they're brilliant! I wanna be just like them!" I really hate how Julius pushing aside his personal feelings in order to change the world and stop the fighting sounds so similar to what Emma did with making the new promise, but our girl would certainly never betray her family and friends to achieve that better world!
This poor man. It's as if his entire purpose in life is crashing down around him.
As heartbreaking as this scene of James' death is, I can't feel sorry for Peter in this moment. The dude labeled James as a traitor and gave the order to the other Ratri men to go kill him, so I can't imagine why the boy is wailing so hard for something he caused to happen. He could've at least tried to talk to James about the situation, maybe find some common ground that the two of them could agree upon that would apply to both their ideals on how to run the clan and farm systems, but nope. Death be upon ye. The fact that Peter gets up and walks away shortly after rubs me the wrong way too. If he was truly upset about his brother's death, surely he would've taken his body somewhere else to do a proper burial instead of just leave him there. Peter mentions at the start of this chapter that he respected James more than anyone, but this sure as hell ain't the proper way to show it.
Local fool having an existential crisis. Sure the Ratri clan was bound to play the part as the mediators between both worlds, but one couldn't honestly believe that was the correct way to do things. It's surprising the promise lasted a thousand years before someone had the nerve to stand up and say, ya know, living this way just ain't right.
Peter isn't wrong, unfortunately. Humans can really be so terrible. The world we're personally living in is far from perfect.
One of the rare deaths when the corners of my mouth are tugged upwards. It's fine. No one really wanted Peter to join the kids in the human world anyway.
Favorite panel/moment:
James' smile. That's all.
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It's time for Part 2 of "I hate the fucking anime adaption so fucking much". Part 1 is here.
I've known about this since the start of the month since Nakayoshi posted a black and white ad in the January 2024 Issue talking about it, it just took a while for Marukuji to actually post about it in color. And it still doesn't make it any better.
That looks NOTHING like Amu. Holy shit is it bad. I had to do a double take when I first saw a cropped version of the ad on Twitter because that didn't look like Amu at all. It's horrible. Ikuto looks so fucking awful too. Why the hell is he wearing purple too? It looks way too similar to Utau. It's all so bad and out of character, and it's worse than usual because it's also a lottery. Yeah no, fuck this, I ain't buying it. Last year when they made that new anime art I refused to buy anything with the new art on it and I only bought the ribbons, purses, and mirrors. I hated it that fucking much.
Why do people think this is good? Why? I'm seeing so many people on here and in the Japanese fandom fawn over this and I don't understand why. There's so many yes men in these fandoms I swear, like you're all too afraid to say something is shit when it's shit. And this is shit. It leaves such a bad fucking taste in my mouth that they got the old anime character designer to do another set of merchandise. I really wanted that crap from last year to be a one time thing, and then this happened. Really makes me sick thinking about a reboot potentially bringing that old character designer back… God no. This is terrible. The art is so bad.
I know Rozen Maiden is doing the same thing lately, with the 2013 anime character designer making new art for merchandise and lotteries, the difference is that the 2013 Rozen Maiden anime art is actually good. It was a massive improvement over the horrid Nomad art. They never ever use the Nomad art anymore, and God I wish they would treat SC! the same way. Make a reboot, make merchandise using that new anime art, and please pretend the old anime art doesn't exist anymore.
I'm still convinced they will reboot it, with all the money they're hoarding from the constant new merchandise. Here's hoping we get some nice news after the sequel manga starts. Unfortunately right now they're going to focus on the Vampire Dormitory anime adaption. Shoujo anime adaptions are making a comeback, and they choose to give this trashy manga an anime adaption... sigh. And we still don't have a start date for the Cardcaptor Sakura: Clear Card Arc anime sequel either. I guess they just don't want it competing with these two anime at the moment, so they're waiting.
I need some eye bleach, I can't stand looking at this fucking art anymore.
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you were so obsessed with her grooming people and then mentioned her son in the middle of it
how is anyone supposed to keep track of what you’re accusing her of
the only reason her son is still alive is that he got injected with v by the by
and homelander is the reason teddy almost died but i guess that’s not his fault either nothing ever is because someone groomed him
oh no sweetie, *canon confirmed grooming* and *sexual abuse* among a myriad of other things. very obvious, textbook defined, on screen literally shown to us multiple times, watch the shit again or look up those definitions.
and the only reason marie's parents died was *because she was injected with v*
teddy's a fucking orphan at the red river institute because of his mother and may very well end up tortured, captured, if not killed by butcher or vought *because he was injected with v*
homelander is not the reason teddy almost died.
BUTCHER is the reason teddy almost died because he set off the fucking bomb when there was no need for that. but if you want to play the 'let's go back in time blame game', then uh yeah, it *still* stems back to MADELYN and VOGELBAUM and STAN EDGAR, because of the shit they pulled with first homelander, and then becca, which set butcher off.
and yes, i mentioned her son, *because he was another victim*. like starlight, like maeve, like homelander, like any of the woman she intimidated into silence.
you're so obsessed with defending your capitalist racist white anti-feminism rape culture supporting 'girl boss', you can't take two seconds to acknowledge a single thing she did wrong, let alone let someone fucking breathe for doing so.
i am not the one sending in rank ass anon harrassment to a random person on the internet because i can't fucking cope with the fact someone points out the actual villainy of a fucking *villain*. and i don't go around being part of the 'deny the villain's crimes because we like them/insert reason' club, we acknowledge the crimes and talk nuance when there's some to be seen, and then we move the fuck on whether we like the villain or not.
homelander's, nor billy butcher's, nor vogelbaum's, nor stan edgar's, nor the deep's, *nor any other fucking crimes committed by the men in the series are excuses for the crimes madelyn stillwell committed*, nor has ANYONE excused any of the men for the crimes stillwell committed.
because that's not how crimes fucking work and that's called *whataboutism*.
make a rant in your own space on your own blog defending her if you care so fucking much, leave me the fuck alone, and i'll leave you alone
again. reading. comprehension.
i ain't fittin' to defend a literally confirmed groomer or child abuser--because *and ONLY because* she's a women. i'd've made the same fucking rants about stillwell had she been portrayed by a man with the same fucking insidious, sexually abusive bullshit--and i probably wouldn't be getting harrased by some rabid pedo defending anon for it so go figure~<3!
get the fuck out of here with that shit.
get a fucking life or go masterbate to your groomer goddess, i do not fucking care how much you adore madelyn over all her victims, including her son.
madelyn stillwell was a GREAT villain and a terrible fucking person who hurt countless people for the sake of profit, and none of that has absolutely anything to do with her 'wOmAnHoOd'. end of.
#disgusting#anon bullshit#tw grooming#tw abuse apologism#tw child abuse#seriously#what is wrong with you#madelyn stillwell#teddy stillwell#homelander#billy butcher#gross#tw harrassment#keep sending these asks and i will keep putting you on blast#whataboutism#tw sa#rape
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TFC Fanfic - Can't Let Go
Fred is concerned about the state of their boss' emotions since the death of their medic, and worries about his compentency to lead the team. Virgil agrees, but is able to empathize a little bit with how much losing someone important to you can mess you up. Either way, this isn't going to lead anywhere good.
Idk y'all this popped into my head at work and I had to get it out.
Warnings: Very mild gore, mild eye scream re: Virgil's mechanical eye, past character death (TFC Medic, or Gabe as I have named him).
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"He ain't right, is all I'm sayin'," Fred grumbled, a terribly thin and small screwdriver held between two thick fingers as he finished rebuilding the mechanical eyeball cradled in a shop towel on his worktable.
Virgil huffed, shaking his head. "When's he ever been right, Fred?"
The engineer shot a look to his friend, the one-eyed sniper currently hogging the only chair in the workshop. "You know what I mean. Moreso'n usual."
"You know how close he and Gabe were. They were as married as two men can get. A heavy and his medic; it's awfully romantic."
"Awful is right," Fred chuckled, joined in a laugh by Virgil. "That's the thing, though. Ever since that explosion, he ain't been the same. Gabe dead, me ripped in half, Bea's eye. That op couldn't've gone worse if we'd tried. An the bossman losin' his husband; I think that might'a finally pushed him over the edge."
"He'd been teeterin' as long as I've know him."
"Exactly. He's been awful cagey about jobs now. It's either sure things or the most outrageous shit, never nowhere between. The worst part is how spooked he's gotten."
"Spooked?"
Fred finished reassembling the eye and wiped it clean on the towel. "Here, should be good to go," he said, handing it to Virgil, who stretched open his eyelids and popped the thing back into his empty socket, letting the nerve linkup inside grab hold and reattach, restoring use of the thing. He almost wished he'd asked for an off switch for the damned thing this time. Seeing through everything, even his own eyelid, had been deleterious for his ability to get any rest. But having the ability to turn it off would mean he'd use it, and it would make him lazy, and an easy target. Best to just deal with it, he supposed.
"Back in working order. As you were saying?
"When I can get him talkin', it's... he can't let go of death. Ain't never bothered him none before; we're mercenaries, we know what we're gettin' into. What we're riskin'. But ever since Gabe died, he can't shake it. Keeps talkin' about how we're gettin' older. Gettin' slower. Gettin' weaker. We're some of the best damn mercenaries there are, but even we can't stop Death from comin' callin' sooner or later. I don't think he can figure out how to reconcile it."
"It is a lot to take in; losing someone that important to you," Virgil offered, thinking back to the year prior, when he'd seen the explosion from his perch, when he'd seen Fred get torn in half, his legs basically paste, his intestines strewn from his open, gaping torso, blood everywhere. It was a sight he'd never shake. He'd splattered more brains and pierced more hearts than he could remember, but it was different when that gore, those guts, were someone who mattered to you. "Changes your perspective in some fucked up ways."
He was just grateful they'd managed to save Fred, and that the canny engineer had been able to retrofit one of his father's old designs for prosthetics. Though it had required a bit more biological knowledge than he truly had the depth of understanding for, and without Gabe around to help anymore, it had been a long, taxing, infuriating process to get right. All the while their heavy was going mad in grief and couldn't be consoled by anyone.
Bea had just wrenched the shrapnel from her eye, bandaged her face, and gone about her day. Hard woman, she was. She terrified Virgil, which was no mean feat.
"I'm just concerned he's gonna do somethin' stupid. He's angry, and hurt, and it's gettin' him more 'n' more riled every day, and one of these days he's gonna snap, and it ain't gonna be good for any of us."
"That new medic isn't helping with it, either."
"That absolute fruit loop is gonna get us all killed even faster'n the boss if we ain't careful. I know a mad scientist when I see one."
"I'm thinking more the boss is gonna kill him first."
"Half thinkin' we should let 'im. Maybe it'll blow off some steam," Fred laughed.
#Team Fortress Classic#TFC Fanfiction#TF2 Fanfiction#TFC HeavyMedic#TFC Engineer#TFC Sniper#TFC Heavy#TFC Medic#TFC Pyro#TF2 Medic
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Visiting Hours [MusicBelle]
Belle heads down to Louisiana to visit her husband.
Misc: I really should start calling Belle by her real name when I'm writing her either not performing or interacting with a famous person, I am going to make Darius start speaking in Southern Subtext™️ with translations
@calciumcryptid @honeysgalaxy
Rain poured from the skies, wetting the road leading to the prison. Thunder roared and lightning flashed above a black car making its way down.
Not that the weather mattered to Christine, aka Belle Holiday. She was only coming here for one thing, or rather a person: her husband Darius. Rain or shine, she'd be there as best as she could.
The car came to a stop at the gates. Two armed guards stood watch, guns in hand. Christine reached in her wallet to pull out her ID. Just in time, too, since one of the guards came up to her window.
"Christine Chapel." She handed him the card.
After a quick verification, the metal doors slowly opened. Christine drove through to a parking space near the entrance. She then got out the car and headed towards the front.
"Name and reason for visiting." The guy at the front desk asked once she was indoors.
"Chapel. I'm here to visit my husband." Christine stated. Her eyes trailed down to her wedding ring. The greatest gift Darius ever gave her. A promise and a commitment.
"Visitation area is down the hall to your right, ma'am."
As Christine walked away from his desk, she heard him mumble.
"You look the kind of broad he'd marry."
The comment stung a little. But she had better things to look forward to than that. Upon entering the visitation area, she caught some attention. How couldn't she when she was wearing an expensive looking jacket in rainy, Southern weather?
Christine took a seat at an empty booth and waited for Darius to arrive. While doing so, another woman struck up a conversation with her.
"You waitin' on your man, too, sugar?"
"Yeah. He's been in here for four months."
"I feel you. Mine is approachin' the end of his sentence. It ain't easy for ladies like us who love guys like this." The woman crossed her legs. She let out a sigh. "They're good men to us, but everybody knows them as the bad guy. Worst mine ever did was blow up a federal reserve."
Before Christine could ask, a buzzer rang. A new group of prisoners were brought in--Darius among them.
When Darius saw Christine, he swore in that moment he wanted to break through the glass and scoop her into his arms. Four months of dull routine and horrible prison food were worth it now that his wife, his angel of music, was here. She came from Central City all the way to Louisiana just to be with him.
"Christine!"
"Darius!"
A wave of relief and comfort washed over Christine when she saw Darius again. Last time they saw each other was the day of his trial, a devastating day for both of them. At least Darius still looked and sounded like himself.
"Oh, doll, how I wish I could kiss those lips and sing to you," Darius motioned to the collar around his neck. "But I can't. I'm surprised I can even still talk with how tight this thing is."
"I miss you, Darius," Christine confessed. "I miss you a lot."
"I miss you too, doll." Darius stroked her cheek through the glass. Life at Belle Reve was so dull. Days full of boring routine rewarded with horrible prison food and limited freedoms. Couldn't they have sent him somewhere closer to home?
"Maybe you will. They did say you have the possibility of parole." Christine held the phone to her ear. "How's it feel to be back in the bayou?"
Darius frowned. "Sometimes you don't remember things as well as you used to. Not even the gumbo." (Translation: I fucking hate it here. Everything sucks and if I have to spend another hour in here, I might just go insane).
Christine hummed, "That's terrible. Did you at least make some friends?"
"Green is not their color. Hopefully it doesn't become their signature looks." (Translation: A lot of the inmates are jealous because I only got three years, even without the parole).
Darius leaned back in his seat to examine what his wife wore. Christine looked so lovely in the jacket she wore yet here he was in an orange prison uniform. The only time he shouldn't be in his best looks was when they were in bed together or alone.
"Some of the other prisoners think I'm a pushover, too."
Christine thought hell froze over. Darius Chapel, a pushover? Never! If there was something Darius wanted, he'd do anything to get it. Amplified when it's something she wanted.
"Well, they clearly don't know you."
"Oh, they never could hold me up, cher, but I will let them go." (Translation: I wish these motherfuckers would try me. I may not have my powers, but I'm not out of options).
A small smile curled onto her lips. "That's good. I don't want you getting in trouble."
That's the hardest part, doll, Darius said to himself. I never told them I'm married because I know they might try to go after you.
"But enough about me. I'm more interested in hearing about you, doll." Darius placed his feet up on the counter. "What's been going on since I've been out of town?"
Christine told him about the support she received in the days after he was sent to Belle Reve. Mostly from her friends, but her parents did offer their condolences. She also told him about her upcoming performances.
"I...I've also been looking to buy a house down here. Or at least rent a place."
Darius's eyes widened. "Why, doll?"
"For when you get released," Christine replied.
That's right. I forgot I won't be able to leave without my officer's permission, Darius grit his teeth. One of these idiots better be planning something so I can make my stay here shorter.
After almost an hour, the buzzer rang again. Darius blew a kiss to Christine as he got up. He chuckled when he saw her flustered face.
"We'll meet again one day, doll. See you next time."
"See you. I love you."
"I love you too, doll." Darius joined the exiting prisoners. In his mind, an escape plan was brewing. There's no way he would spend a year, let alone three, in this hellhole. Sooner or later, things would become restless which set the perfect tone for his plan. All he needed to do was wait for the right moment.
Christine glanced down at one of her wedding pictures. Darius was feeding her a fork full of cake when it was taken and became a personal favorite. With a smile, she started the car and drove towards the gates.
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A partial list of Lightbringer quotes I'm mildly obsessed with.
It was the kind of beauty that made you shit your pants.
It was one thing to die, it was another to let some giggling morons murder you.
[He] was so mortified, he decided to just die and get it over with.
"Wait, this wasn't the thresher?" "Do you feel THRESHED?"
"I was a bad child. Fortunately, I've come a long way since then. Now I'm a bad man."
"The philosopher said that a man alone is either a god, or a monster. I'm no god." / "Well then, maybe the times call for a monster."
"He will serve the purpose for which he was made, or break in pursuit of it, just like the rest of us."
"Death by cock sounds so romantic, don't you think?"
"Are you a man, or a god?" / "I'm busy."
She turned her eyes on him, and his heart flipped over and convulsed, tried to crawl off the squeaky clean floor to the stairs, its palpitations making it hop like a deranged bunny; the worst escape attempt in history.
[She] was so smart that it was a miracle she could get dressed in the morning.
"Pacifism is a virtue indistinguishable from cowardice."
The man loved language like a wife-beater loves his wife.
"You got potential, and you know potential means? Ain't done nothing yet!"
He knew what to do, but knowing what to do here was like knowing that all you had to do to climb a mountain is to walk.
[He] felt an odd purity, the serenity of saints and ascetics and the batshit insane.
"You thought castrating a man would stop his quest for vengeance?"
She mopped her face with a cloth and then slapped powder on quickly, fought with her hair for half a minute, and decided history belongs to those who show up.
"Your father picked your brother, but [God] picked you, does that tell you nothing?"
"A little madness keeps you from going crazy."
If one is going to be a fraud, one ought to do it well.
It seemed both an impossible achievement and pathetic at the same time.
"[God] walks men through fires every day, I believe that. But before you walk through fire, make certain it's one he's asked you to walk through."
"I think I owe my aunt an apology," the boy said, very much alive. He spread one of the cut gaps in his tunic, showing a coat of the finest mesh steel beneath it. "She gave me this for my birthday. I asked for a race horse. I complained."
Good old Kip, ready to bash down doors that were unlocked.
"Fortune favors the bold, but don't be bold with me again."
As always, he was dressed carefully, looked wrinkled as an old apple, and had a demeanor as pleasant as a night of diarrhea.
"But sailors and a straight told tale have but passing acquaintance."
"You're sixteen!" / "Seventeen in a few months." Ten. Ten months.
"See? I have a gift!" / "A few." / "No, just the one!" / "Pray tell." / "I'm fat!"
"Of course, I don't believe in dice."
He'd die for these ingrates. Not happily, but he would.
If only she had an orator's voice that could be heard over fifty thousand murmuring souls, but most orators couldn't pull off this dress either.
Maybe she was smarter than he thought. What a terrible thing to think about your future wife.
"Dying is a task I can do alone."
"Next time I ask if you're sure, lie."
We are the stories we tell about ourselves, but when those stories are lies, we are the most surprised of all.
This wasn't shit creek. This wasn't no paddle. This was shit ocean. This was "I can't even see land."
Woman, you are the reason some smart ugly guy invented language, simply so he could have some chance against better looking men to woo you.
"You find threats of me tearing [your penis] off arousing?" / "Not when you put it like that."
"War is hell, but hell is where my friends are."
"Shorter sleeves, next time." / "He said, if you asked for shorter sleeves, to look for another tailor, because he will be jumping off each of the seven towers until one of them finally agrees to release him from this hell you've confined him in."
Say this about executing a man, it does rather overshadow one's fear of public speaking.
[She] looked at [him] as if he was a rock trout who had just beached himself and started lecturing her on eudaimonic theology.
Of all the improbable situations [he] had found himself in during his short life: killing a king, killing a god, actually having friends, being able to jog more than a few steps without collapsing and dying of equally lethal doses of heart attack and embarrassment,
Only I would try to do surgery with a battle-axe. Only I would almost succeed.
"You fucking going to help me stow this fucking thing you beaver shite eater?" / "Man can't appreciate a sunrise for two fucking heartbeats? You and your dysentery gums fouling a liminal moment." / "It will be a subliminal moment if you don't start helping, because I'm gonna knock you the fuck out!"
"Are you mocking me, my lord?" / "Actually, I was using this tricky rhetorical device we learned in the hinterlands [...] where I was born. We call it a 'compliment.'"
He examined the ropes behind her back in no apparent hurry to save her fucking life, thank you very much.
"History will judge me for giving birth to a monster, but at least I have the decency to hate him."
"You are not a messenger, you are a hallucination!" / "A hallucination that tells you things you don't know and kicks your ass?" / "Hey, you didn't kick my ass!" / "You just don't want to admit you lost a fight to an eight year old boy!"
"You climbed all this way to confront God himself, and at his doorstep you're just gonna kill yourself? Really?"
"Remind me the next time you louse something up that you aren't half as bad as your brother." / "He's only my half brother, so there you have it."
"Dead winners and dead losers have only one thing in common. Unfortunately, it's the most important thing."
"Huh, where did you pick up that keen understanding of what a super arrogant guy will do?" / "Win, shut it." / "Yes sir, sorry sir. Dying makes me grumpy, sir."
Please, let this not be 'out of the frying pan, into another frying pan closer to the fire.'
"I want you to know something. In all my years of working with spies and murderers, and traitors and scum, I've never met a man who deserved betrayal more."
"You know, for the longest time, I used to think you were an asshole." / "Oh yeah? And now?" / "Oh I still do, I just used to, too.
#not included: 300 billion winsen moments bc those are several paragraphs long#or that one quentin moment in book 5#lightbringer posting#the black prisim#the blinding knife#the broken eye#the blood mirror#the burning white#lightbringer saga
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Something In The Orange - Part 7
Summary: Roach recovers after the mission in Russia
Warnings: Somewhat graphic depictions of injuries
Note: I am also uploading this fic to my Ao3 if you would prefer to read it there!
Word Count: 6.4k
"Well, I could never betray your love
You had me, heart and soul
You might never have known it, girl
But I was all yours
I know I'll never reclaim your love
But that's just how it goes
I ain't the person I was this morning when the sun rose"
"Setting Sun" - Lord Huron
Roach grit his teeth as the doctor rotated his arm, trying desperately not to scream from the fiery pain that blazed in his shoulder. The doctor gave him an apologetic glance, but otherwise made no move to stop her work.
Beside him stood Price, the man watching the Doctor work with a silent stare. Occasionally he would look to Roach and give him a supporting smile or soft squeeze of his arm. He was the only person in the room, both Soap and Ghost having been kicked out almost as soon as the Doctor had begun looking him over.
They’d returned from Russia and Roach, having had a nap against Ghost’s shoulder on the ride back to base, had been rushed immediately to the infirmary where a Doctor was waiting for them. Doctor Elisa Sanchez had taken care of the 141 for the past several months, taking them on beside her usual duties, so it had been no surprise to Roach that she would be looking over his wounds.
Ghost and Soap had taken up their positions on either side of the cot that Roach had been placed on, both still looking quite on edge. When Dr. Sanchez had approached the cot, the two had zeroed distrusting glares onto her. She seemed hesitant to continue forward at their looks, but a quick reprimand to the two hulking men from Price seemed to have brought her confidence back.
“Alright Gary, run me through where you’re hurt.” She gave him a small smile as she sat in front of him, her pen clicking against her clipboard.
“Road rash, and lots of it,” He started, “My arms, hands, and some on my stomach. I tried to clean up the wounds as best I could, but I’m sure there’s still some dirt and rocks mixed in there. Worst of it is on my arm.” He resisted the urge to hold his arm out for her to see in the way a child would. “Bullet wound on my other arm, it’s just a graze though so nothing too terrible. The worst of it is going to be my shoulder. I’m pretty sure I dislocated it.”
Roach could see Price and Gaz wince out of the corner of his eye, both of the men standing beside each other at the door. The look on Price’s face made him remember what Laswell had said about the man blaming himself for his presumed death. He told himself he’d have to talk to him about it later.
Dr. Sanchez nodded, “And your head? John mentioned that you might have hit it against some debris on the highway?”
Roach nodded, “I’ve not noticed anything other than some aching on my face. I think I might have been lucky enough to only come out of it with some bruises.”
“We’ll check for a concussion anyway,” Dr. Sanchez wrote something down in her notes before standing from her seat, “Go ahead and get your shirt off, and I’ll start cleaning out some of those scrapes.” She took off toward one of the workstations in the room and started to gather her supplies.
Roach tried to follow her order, beginning to lift his shirt from his head. He stopped abruptly when a surge of pain pushed through his shoulder and sent him hunching over.
In an instant, both Ghost and Soap were at his side. Ghost’s hand rubbed against his back comfortingly as Soap bent down so he could see Roach’s face. “Let me help you, Bug.”
Though the idea sent warm embarrassment flooding through his system, he allowed Ghost and Soap to help him gently remove his shirt from his body. He noted the way that Soap’s breath hitched when he finally got a look at the extensive injuries covering him. He also noted the quick glance that Ghost and Soap shared with one another, though he couldn’t identify the meaning of it.
“Alright,” Dr. Sanchez caught his attention as she stepped up to him, an alcohol wipe in her hand, “This may sting a bit.”
Roach nodded to her and tried to prepare himself for the burning sensation that was sure to come. Even with a warning, he couldn’t stop the gasp of pain that left his throat when the Doctor pressed the wipe against one of the scrapes on his arm.
In a second, Dr. Sanchez’s hand was roughly pulled away from Roach’s skin by a large hand around her wrist.
“Ghost!” Roach scolded, shocked at the man’s actions.
“Lieutenant,” Dr. Sanchez spoke nervously, “Please let go of my hand so I can tend to Sergeant Sanderson’s injuries.”
“There has to be a way you can do it without hurting him,” Soap was the one who spoke, his eyes hard as he stared at the Doctor. Roach was completely confused by the behavior of the two men.
“Boys,” This came from Price, the man pushing himself off of the wall to step cautiously closer to where Roach was sitting, “Let Dr. Sanchez do her job.” There was another moment of silence, Ghost didn’t let go of the Doctor’s hand. After a moment, Price spoke again. “Sergeant, Lieutenant, do I need to have the two of you removed from this room?”
“Captain,” That came from Ghost. The word was more of an acknowledgment than anything as he still refused to release the Doctor's hand, “Roach is already hurt, she needs to be gentle.”
Both Dr. Sanchez and Roach were dumbfounded by that. Dr. Sanchez had been gentle, but there was no way that cleaning our Roach’s wound wasn’t going to hurt, not with how extensive they were. “Ghost,” Roach’s voice took on a scolding tone, “Let go of Dr. Sanchez, she was being gentle.”
Ghost only glanced at Roach before returning his gaze to Price. Price’s face remained neutral as he took in the situation in front of him, trying to pick out the best course of action. Finally, after a moment, he turned to the door to the infirmary. Roach thought for a second that the man was going to leave, but that was quickly dashed from his mind when he noted that he was speaking with someone out in the hall. When he stepped fully back into the room, it was with four other soldiers following behind. Roach’s eyes widened when he realized what was about to happen.
“Gaz,” Price called, “Help me remove Lieutenant Riley and Sergeant MacTavish from the room.”
Chaos broke out for several seconds, both Ghost and Soap fighting the men who were working to drag them out of the room. It was almost amusing seeing the two large men being dragged out of the room by three men each. Almost.
When the chaos settled and both Ghost and Soap had been dragged out of the room, it was only Price who re-entered, giving both Roach and Dr. Sanchez an apologetic smile. “Apologies for my men’s behavior Elisa,” Price nodded to the Doctor, “They’ll be punished for their behavior, rest assured. Until we’re done here Gaz and another soldier will stand guard in the hall.” Price took several steps over until he was resting beside Roach, “I’ll stay in here if that’s alright.”
Dr. Sanchez only nodded, a mix of amusement and fear remaining on her face from the interaction that had just occurred. “Of course,” She picked up a new alcohol wipe, “let’s get you cleaned up Roach, before those two break down the door.” She gave him a good-natured grin and Roach gave her an apologetic smile in return.
Most of his wounds hadn’t been too painful to have cleaned, but then Dr. Sanchez had moved to his shoulder. “Alright, I’m going to go ahead and warn you, this is going to suck,” She gave him an apologetic glance, “I have to rotate your arm to see what I’m dealing with and if this is dislocated, we’re going to have to pop it back in place.”
Roach winced, “That sounds terribly painful.”
“It has been known to make people pass out,” Dr. Sanchez grimaced, “But if that is it, your shoulder will feel a million times better once we do that.”
So the woman had gently lifted his arm and begun to rotate it, watching not only his arm but his face carefully. Roach, trying not to scream and potentially make Ghost and Soap cause a riot, had gripped onto the closest thing next to him, that thing happened to be Price.
He’d given the man a short apology but Price was quick to respond with, “S’alright, do what you need to.” Roach hadn’t let go of his arm.
After a few minutes of painful rotations, Dr. Sanchez gently set his arm back down, a serious look on her face that told Roach everything he needed to know before she could even start speaking. “Good news is, you were right. Bad news is, it’s dislocated.”
Roach let out several expletives that earned an amused glance from Price. After calming himself, he asked, “Okay, what do we have to do?”
Dr. Sanchez made her way back over to her workstation and pulled out a mouth guard, quickly bringing it over to Roach, “You’ll want to put this in,” she started moving behind him, “It’ll keep you from biting off your tongue and breaking a tooth.” Roach took a deep breath before slipping the guard into his mouth, “Alright, I need you to relax. You’re going to feel my hand on your arm and on your shoulder.” He tensed slightly when he felt her touch on his arms, but soon forced himself to relax, “I’m going to give you a countdown, then we’re going to snap it back in place. Okay?” he could only nod and try to prepare himself. “Aright. One, two-” She quickly jerked his shoulder, a pop filling the air as his entire body lit up in pain.
His shoulder felt like it was on fire and he could see black dots dancing in his vision for a few seconds. He could hear a concerned noise from Price and the man was forced to catch him as he slumped forward from the pain. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when his mind came back to him that Roach realized he’d started crying. He slowly pulled back from where Price had pulled him to his chest for stability, the older man meeting his gaze with clear concern as he took several ragged breaths.
“You alright?” Price asked after a moment. Roach only nodded in response.
He removed the guard from his mouth, “How bad was it?”
Price grimaced and there was suddenly a bang on the door to the room and Roach could hear shouting, “Well, let’s just say you screamed loud enough that I’m sure Gaz is having a hell of a time right now.”
There was a high-pitched yell followed by several words that Roach could only barely make out as Scottish. The screaming stopped for a moment before, clear as day, everyone in the room could hear Gaz yell, “Ghost, put down the knives!”
Roach would later blame his laughter on the pain.
“We should get you a wheelchair, you shouldn’t be walking right now.”
Roach rolled his eyes, “Soap, my arm is injured, not my legs,” he gave the man a look, “I can walk perfectly fine.”
“I still don’t think you should be out here,” That came from Ghost, the quieter man in his place on the other side of Roach.
Roach turned to him, “I’ve told the two of you already, I’m not actually going to be doing any sort of training outside of running. And again, my legs are perfectly fine, it’s just my arm.”
Ghost gave a low hum that had Roach’s ears turning red. All week he’d been privileged to all sorts of hums, grunts, and huffs from both Soap and Ghost. It usually didn’t affect him, but on occasion, the two would let out a noise that nearly sent Roach into cardiac arrest with the tone. It was rather embarrassing for him, so he’d tried his best to ignore it.
He cleared his throat, “What the two of you should really be worried about is whatever punishment Price is going to have for you today,” he shook his head, “I still can’t believe that you guys pulled a knife on Gaz.”
Soap waved him off, “Price has probably already forgiven us. He was just as worried about you as we were.”
“Yes,” Roach responded, “But again, he didn’t pull a knife on Gaz.”
“It was a small one,” Ghost said simply, as though that would change anything. “I didn’t threaten him, only pulled it out.”
Roach gave a small chuckle at that, “Oh I’m sure he’ll believe that.”
“Just you wait and see Roach, Price won’t say a word about it to us today.”
Price did in fact say a word to Ghost and Soap about their behavior both to Gaz and the Doctor. In fact, Price said several words, very very loudly.
He chewed both Ghost and Soap out in one of the most terrifying displays that Roach had seen from the man. He and Gaz shared a grimace as they stretched in prep for training, they both knew that the men needed to be talked to, but they couldn’t help but feel bad.
By the end of Price’s rant, both Ghost and Soap looked like defeated children who’d just been scolded by their parents. It was almost comical to see from the two large men. After another moment of, much quieter, talking between Price, Soap, and Ghost, the two men were taking off in a run and Price was headed over to where Gaz and Roach were waiting.
“What are you making them do?” Roach asked as he watched both Soap and Ghost disappear around some of the buildings.
“Five times around the base,” Price answered, “followed by resistance training.”
Gaz let out a low whistle at the same time that Roach winced, “You’re certainly not taking it easy on them.”
Price shook his head, “No doubt if I do, they’ll do it again. I can’t always show favoritism to you boys.” His voice dropped into something lower and dangerous then, “Keep that in mind, yeah?”
Roach and Gaz shared a nervous glance before nodding, “Yes sir!” They certainly did not want to deal with Price’s wrath.
“You both look miserable,” Roach noted with amusement as Ghost and Soap joined him at the entrance to the cafeteria.
“I feel like I could pass out at any second,” Soap whined, “Those five laps around the base nearly killed me.”
Ghost didn’t look much like he’d been affected, but Roach could see the slump in his shoulders that typically meant the man was tired, “I almost had to carry him on the last lap.”
Roach snorted, “I tried to warn the two of you.”
Soap slung an arm around his shoulder, “No need to rub it in, Bug.” He started guiding them into the cafeteria, Ghost following at their side.
“Have you at least learned your lesson?” Roach asked, amusement still clear on his face.
Soap scoffed as he guided them to a table and muttered under his breath, “I’ll teach you a lesson.”
After a moment, Roach was being pushed into a seat at their usual table, his eyes rolling as Soap told him to stay put. “You know I thought I might get my own plate today,” he started to stand, “Since the two of you are so tired. I don’t want to add anything onto you.”
He was gently pushed back into his seat by Ghost, the man leaning down for a split second to whisper in his ear, “Nice try, Bug.”
Roach felt his face go red as he watched Ghost and Soap make their way toward the line for food. He could feel a tingle on his neck where Ghost’s breath had hit.
Roach had been told he’d have to go on leave for at least a month and a half due to his injuries. He’d been a little annoyed at the fact that he’d have to be off for so long, but he understood. He’d expected to be by himself for the majority of that month. While he was permitted to sit in on meetings with the 141 and watch any training the group did, he wasn’t allowed to participate unless it was something that he could do without his arms. This meant that when the team took off on another mission or was doing extremely rigorous training, he would be by himself. He also didn’t think that the team would come to see him outside of those few interactions. He was very wrong.
Soap and Ghost had practically moved into his room after the first week, both of the men spending hours by his side and demanding that he not even lift a finger while they were there. It had been rather endearing to Roach so far, if not maybe a little annoying. It also meant that he was spending more and more time with the two men, and with that time came several interactions like the one he’d just had.
Soap would run a hand across his arm affectionately and Roach would feel that touch on his skin for the rest of the day. Ghost would give a rumbling groan when woken up in the mornings and Roach would hear the noise ringing in his ears for hours. It was getting to be a bit much for him to handle.
It was like messing up his shoulder had turned his daily life into both his own personal heaven and hell. He had the two men who set his heart racing doting on him nearly all the time, and yet he wasn’t allowed to wonder. He couldn’t let his eyes linger for too long, he couldn’t let his mind focus on the things they did or said for too long because he knew it would only make him fall for them more. And he knew he could never have them.
The other downside of the two spending more time around him meant that he’d been seeing a lot more of their interactions again. The soft fleeting touches, the looks, the words spoken lowly into each other's ears when they thought he wasn’t looking, the kisses.
For the first time in months, he found himself ruminating on memories from his first life.
As usual, Simon was the dominating force in his memories. His mind supplied the images of soft blond hair, dark brown eyes, and a hard exterior that would give way to his soft touches. He often found himself thinking of the mornings they used to have together when he would wake up warm and sated in the arms of his Simon.
He thought about those mornings when the sun would hit just right and cast a halo into Simon’s golden hair. He thought about the way he would trace the scars on Simon’s face with his finger, gently memorizing them with his touch and following behind his movements with a soft kiss. He thought about the haze that would take over his mind when Simon would rumble out his name tiredly and pull him into his chest. He thought about how much he missed that.
It certainly hadn’t helped to see similar behavior between Soap and Ghost. He always found himself feeling guilty when he would watch them interact, feeling as though he was interrupting a moment that was just for them.
There was also the guilt that came with the mask. He hadn’t really thought much about it until he woke up in the middle of the night to see Ghost sleeping with his mask still covering his face. It was that sight that made him realize that he still hadn’t seen this new Ghost with his mask off. On one hand, he knew it was probably a good thing. There was no telling what he would do if he saw that face that invaded his dreams again. On the other hand, Roach felt the mask to be a painful reminder of what he had lost and that barrier that would remain between himself and both Ghost and Soap.
His current situation had only become more of a problem as his memories invaded his dreams again. It had been difficult to explain himself the morning he woke up from one of those dreams and had taken several minutes to realize that he wasn’t actually back in his first life with Simon. He’d lied to Ghost and Soap about having a “nightmare” where Soap was the 141’s captain instead of Price. The two had gotten a good laugh out of it and it provided Roach with enough time to steel his face and bury his emotions.
He did the same now, as Ghost and Soap returned to the table, plopping a plate of food in front of him. Soap had a wide grin on his face as he sat, Ghost taking his spot next to him at the table. “Roach I need you to settle something.”
Roach raised an eyebrow at him, “Okay?”
“Ghost says that I snore. I do not snore.”
That genuinely brought Roach back into the moment, all painful thoughts of his first life temporarily gone as laughs wracked his system. “Soap you definitely snore.”
There was an offended gasp followed by a chuckle from Ghost, “Told you.”
Soap gave another gasp, “I do not snore! The two of you are fucking with me.”
“You definitely snore,” Roach took a sip from his drink, “Being honest, Soap, it’s pretty bad snoring too. All loud and demonic.”
“Sounds like a pig sometimes,” Ghost chimed in as well.
Soap smacked his arm and sent a glare to both Ghost and Roach, “Oh you just wait,” he said when he noticed Roach still giggling, “I’ll get into the bed with you tonight and snore right in your ear. We’ll see how I snore then.”
Roach tried to ignore the heat that flushed his system at the idea of sharing a bed with Soap. “So you’re trying to make my recovery even harder?”
Soap spent the rest of the meal trying to convince Roach and Ghost that he was quieter than a mouse while sleeping. Neither Ghost nor Roach believed him.
“Thanks for this, again,” Roach said nervously.
The man in front of him only gave a chuckle, “It’s no problem, I understand how hard dealing with these shirts can be while you’re hurt.”
Roach shuffled back and forth on his feet, watching the man he’d approached undo the buttons on one of his shirts. The man was an American, likely on one of the spec ops teams that made their home on the base, similar to the 141. He was dressed in a more casual uniform and had been loitering around one of the den areas by himself when Roach approached.
The other members of the 141 had been away on a recon mission for the past few days, and though they were supposed to return sometime that day, Roach was in need of help at that moment. He had a scheduled meeting with a Laswell and a higher-up on base that day, it was supposed to be a review of the safe house setup so that they could get an idea of what they could improve for next time. Despite the rather informal and simple topic of the meeting, he was still expected to show up in uniform since it would be a higher-up he was meeting with.
Unfortunately for him, and any other person on base, the button-up shirts for the dress uniforms were an absolute nightmare to deal with. Often times the button holes were too small and the buttons had to be forced through. The shirts were also quite stiff, making the whole thing a general nightmare for Roach, whose arm was still useless.
He’d hoped to wait until the 141 had returned to maybe get the help of Gaz or Price in dressing himself, the idea of Ghost or Soap buttoning his shirt for him embarrassed him too much for him to even consider their help. Now though, he was an hour out from his meeting and the team still wasn’t back.
He’d tried to work with the shirt himself, but after almost ten minutes of trying and only one button undone, he decided he would need help. That’s what led him to where he was, standing in one of the den areas on base with a total stranger helping him get dressed.
The man, Westbrook as his tag read, was being very nice about the whole situation, a small smile on his face as he diligently undid the buttons on the shirt for Roach, “You’re pretty quick with that,” Roach dared to say after a moment, “I’m actually super impressed.”
Westbrook laughed, “There’s a trick to it, just gotta find the right angle and the thing goes through like butter,” He looked up at Roach as he finished with the buttons, “Come find me once your arms better and I’ll show you.” He shot him a playful wink and Roach gave a small laugh. “Alright, let’s get you into this thing, yeah?”
Roach nodded and, with Westbrook's help, he started the process of carefully taking off his sling, his arm still groaning in protest at the movement. It still hurt, but was noticeably better than when he’d initially messed the thing up. Once that was off, then off came his shirt, and the top button of his dress pants was undone so he could tuck the button up into them.
Westbrook helped him get the shirt over his shoulders, gently smoothing it out as they went through the process. After that came the sling back on. “Is that too tight?”
Roach shook his head, his gaze moving away from his sling and back towards Westbrook who was looking at him in concern, “No, it’s good. You’re pretty good at that.”
Westbrook gave a huffed laugh, “I’ve helped my teammates with my fair share of shoulder injuries, I’d be more surprised if I wasn’t good at it at this point.” He stepped up closer to him, the proximity between the two causing Roach to flush for a moment as Westbrook started working on the buttons on his shirt. “I noticed your accent, where are you from?”
Roach tried to ignore the way the man’s knuckles would occasionally brush against his skin, “Oh um,” He paused to right his mind before telling Westbrook which state he was from.
“Oh shit, really?” Westbrook gave a chuckle, “I’ve got family there. We used to spend the summers in the area.”
“Really?” Roach asked, excited, “I haven’t seen anyone from around there in a while. I’ve spent so much time around Europeans lately.”
Westbrook gave a chuckle, “Hey did you ever eat at Chuck’s?”
Chuck’s Barbeque was a local place in his hometown. The owner of the small restaurant, Chuck, made some of the best food Roach had ever had in his life, just the thought of it made him hungry. “Oh my god, yes!”
“It’s so good!” Westbrook let out a little groan before muttering, “I miss that place so bad.”
Roach let out a short huff and nodded. He realized then that Westbrook was already almost done with the buttons on his shirt and added, “God you’re so good at that. I may need to have you do it again.”
Westbrook chuckled, “Of course. Come whenever you need to.”
Both Roach and Westbrook jumped away from each other suddenly as the door to the den was thrown open with a bang. “Soap? Ghost? When did you guys get back?” Roach hurriedly tucked his shirt in so that he could button his pants once again.
“What was going on in here?” Came the question from Soap, the man eyeing Westbrook with suspicion.
“Who’s he?” Came the question from Ghost.
“This is Westbrook,” Roach motioned to the man, “He was just helping me since you guys weren’t here.”
“Since we weren’t here?” That came from Soap, the man’s eyes going wide.
Roach raised an eyebrow at him, “Yeah, I probably would have gone to Price for help, but you guys were on a mission.”
“You would have gone to Price?” Ghost crossed his arms across his chest and a dark look crossed his face.
Nodding, Roach motioned to his shirt, “Yeah, guys this thing was so hard and stiff, I wasn’t gonna be able to handle it on my own.”
“So you just asked a total stranger to help you? And you’re satisfied with that?”
Roach shook his head, completely lost on why Soap and Ghost both seemed so upset with what was happening, “With my shirt being buttoned up? Yes, I am pretty satisfied with it.”
There was a pause before Ghost asked, “Your shirt?”
“Yes,” Roach motioned to his uniform, “I couldn’t get this stupid shirt on without help. What did you two think we were talking about?”
Ghost and Soap shared a sheepish glance before making their way into the room and beginning to guide Roach, “Nothing, C’mon we’ll help with the rest.”
Soap looked over his shoulder at the chuckling American soldier, a glare on his face at the amused look the man was wearing, “Thank you for helping our friend Wetcook.”
“It’s Westbrook,” Roach looked between the two men confused as they led them out of the room, “Thank you for your help!” He called to Westbrook as Soap and Ghost continued to maneuver him away from the man and out in the direction of his room.
Roach’s face was a pleasant sort of warm and his mind a pleasant sort of fuzzy to go with it.
He was now only a few days out from when he was supposed to get his shoulder checked again. It was his appointment to see if he would finally be allowed out of the sling and back onto active duty.
Over the past month and a half, he’d been dealing with Soap and Ghost being almost like shadows with how closely they were monitoring him. If he needed help, the two would be there at his side in an instant. If he didn’t need help? Well, that didn’t matter because they’d be there to help anyways. It had been rather endearing for the first week or so, the two men being so protective that Roach couldn’t help but be flattered. But after a month and a half of healing, he expected the two men to have mellowed out a bit or at least let him do more things for himself. He was very wrong.
Instead, it was like the two men had only grown more protective and more worried as the month continued. And as the two continued to practically baby him, Roach had grown more and more annoyed with the two.
He loved them, he really did, but he didn’t need their constant supervision and he could certainly still do things for himself. So it was no surprise to anyone that he’d begun to snap at the two men. It was nearly a daily occurrence for people on the base to see Roach yelling at Soap, Ghost, or both of them for one reason or another.
Most often it would happen at training or in the cafeteria. Soap and Ghost would try to get Roach to sit out training for some reason or another and within the next few minutes Price would be stepping in to pull a cursing Roach away from the two men. The cafeteria was equally bad, with Soap or Ghost refusing to let him get his own food. Numerous times he’d simply waited until the two had gone up to the line for food before b-lining it out of the cafeteria to find Gaz to take him out for a meal. Getting off base was the only way he knew how to get any time away from the two men who were smothering him with affection.
“I love the two to death,” He’d confessed to Gaz one day as the two were sitting in a restaurant, “But I really just need some space at this point.”
Gaz chuckled lowly, “I don’t know that you’re going to get that until that sling comes off,” He paused for a second, “And even then, you may have to show off in training for the two to let up.”
Roach let out a groan and buried his face in his hands, “Between this and the two of them threatening Westbrook a few days ago, I just have no idea what is running through these two’s minds.”
Roach had run into Westbrook a few weeks after the incident with his shirt and the man had, rather nervously, informed him that Ghost and Soap had both been watching him rather ominously for several days, typically while Ghost would be sharpening one of his knives or Soap would be cleaning one of his weapons. Roach had been mortified and apologized to the man numerous times. He’d also yelled at Soap and Ghost rather loudly the next time he’d seen them.
“C’mon,” Gaz tilted his head at Roach, “You really can’t think of a single reason that these two are behaving like this?”
Roach squinted at him. He wracked his brain for any possible reason that the two could have for how they were behaving and, despite Gaz’s knowing look, he came up with nothing, “Nope, I got nothing.”
Gaz shook his head, an amused look on his face, “Absolutely helpless, the three of you.”
Roach had grilled him for the rest of the meal on what that meant, but Gaz had refused to say another word on the subject. It hadn’t helped with his mood.
The worst part about being so angry with the boys was that after nearly a week of dealing with his anger, Ghost and Soap had figured out an almost surefire way to snuff his anger out, for at least a little while. It was embarrassing for Roach to have the two manhandle him down onto the bed, but it was even more embarrassing for him that being coddled between the two for hours was able to not only extinguish his anger but also was the quickest way to put him to sleep. Soap and Ghost had, naturally, taken advantage of this little discovery.
That day Roach had gotten mad at Ghost first, the man had tried to stop Roach from attending that day’s training session, muttering about how it was “too hot outside.” Roach, upon hearing the reasoning, had promptly pushed past the man and marched outside, his face fixed into a neutral glare.
Then he’d gotten mad at Soap when the man had tried to spoon-feed Roach. It wasn’t even Roach’s dominant arm that had been injured. Roach had cursed him out in the middle of the cafeteria, much to Gaz and Price’s amusement.
Then came the icing on the cake, when both Ghost and Soap had hidden all of the weapons Roach kept in his room, insisting that it was dangerous for him to be handling the weight in his condition, even if it was only to clean the weapon.
“You did what?”
“We’ve just temporarily moved them,” Ghost said, as calm as could be under Roach’s glare.
“Were you in a fever when you did that? What the hell!”
“Listen,” Soap started, “They’re too heavy. You’re going to mess your arm up so Ghost and I are going to take over care of them for you.”
If possible, Roach was sure his face went even redder, his mouth twisting into a scowl, “Are both of my arms missing or something? I’m not dying, I can take care of myself!”
“We know that,” Ghost responded.
“Do you?” Roach responded, “The two of you have been babying me for the past month and a half! I’m tired of it.”
“You’re hurt,” Soap shot back, his voice hard as he stood from his seat and started towards Roach, “You need rest and we’re helping.”
“The elevator don’t quite reach the top does it?” Roach bit out, “I mean how stupid do you have to be to think that I can’t do something as simple as clean a weapon with a dislocated shoulder!” Roach continued on, laying into both Soap and Ghost. Between the anger clouding his brain and his quick venting of his frustrations, he didn’t notice as both of the men started making their way over toward him. He only noticed when the two were already there. “Don’t you-!”
Roach didn’t get a chance as within a moment Ghost was lifting his struggling form into the air and carrying him quickly over to his bed. Soap was slightly ahead of them, quickly finding his place on the bed and laying down, a blanket opening beside him.
Ghost carefully set Roach into Soap’s arms where the man immediately wrapped his struggling form into a blanket. A moment later and Ghost slipped into the bed behind Roach, the two men squishing Roach between them in an annoyingly pleasant cuddle pile. “Calm down Bug, just go to sleep.” Ghost muttered into Roach’s ear.
Roach cursed the two for a moment longer, still struggling for a few minutes before he finally gave up. His body stopped moving and he let out an embarrassed huff before burying his bright red face into Soap’s chest. “I don’t understand you two,” he muttered after a moment, embarrassment at how easily he’d been sedated still flooding his system.
He could feel the vibrations of the chuckles from the two men around him and forced himself to ignore the fluttering feeling that ignited in his chest.
Both Price and Gaz had made a point to check in on Roach’s well-being, but neither of them had been as over the top with it as Soap and Ghost. Gaz had been almost compulsively bringing Roach fast food from off base, always ensuring that he had something to eat. Price had checked in every day and made sure that Roach wasn’t over-exerting himself, but he also knew that Roach could handle minor things himself.
With Soap and Ghost, it was like the two were looking for any and every opportunity to coddle him.
After another moment of silence, Roach muttered, “I’m still mad at you both.”
Ghost was the one to respond, an affectionate lilt to his voice, “We know Bug, we know.”
Prev: Part 6
Next: Part 8
#call of duty fanfic#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty modern warfare#cod mw2 fanfic#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon ghost riley#simon riley#gary sanderson#gary roach sanderson#john price#captain price#captain john price#john mactavish#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#ghost x roach#ghostroach#ghost x soap#soap x roach#soaproach#ghostroachsoap
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Hello
First, allow me to say that I love all of your comics and art, you're do talented and your art style is stunning.
Second, I have been following you for so long and I noticed something but I hope you won't be mad at me for saying it but you said that Kakashi's nosebleed in the anime when he saw sexy jutsu doesn't count because it's a filler and dismissed it completely but yet you always tag kakagai filler posts as canon including the Rock Lee SD which is so not canon either so why the double standards? Why if it was Kakashi attracted to a woman then it's automatically filler and doesn't count but if it was even a small hint that he might be interested in a man then it's canon? I'm sorry but this makes me feel like Tumblr people hate women and this is making me sad.
god why is the naruto fandom like this skskskksksksk
Look, you've been polite, so I'll be polite, too. As polite as I can muster at this hour of the morning.
I started jokingly tagging all kakagai content including obviously filler as 'canon' because I've had anons coming into my inbox and yelling at me - and being BLATANTLY HOMOPHBIC - for the ultimate sin of tagging actual canon scenes as 'canon'.
It's literally me trolling those people, because this fandom feels like you have the nerd police breathing down your neck and demanding you interpret canon in THEIR cishet way. So yeah, it's my queer little 'fuck you' to everyone who gets so incredibly het up and angry about mlm pairings.
I love bi kakashi! Shizune/Kakashi hits A LOT of my buttons. But as the anons were specifically being shits to me because of mlm shipping, that's what I'm focusing on.
I'm gonna start tagging every scene where Kakashi is just in his tanktop as 'canon trans' too, because that's obviously a binder lmao. Let's see if that pisses people off, as well.
Obviously, Kishimoto believes that everyone is cishet and only the creepy pedophilic villain is queer. But as that's bullshit, WE IGNORE IT HERE.
I'm sorry that me tagging a post with a single word can cause you this much misery. Truly. But I don't intend to stop. If you can't take me having a laff on my own blog at the expense of genuine homophobic twats, maybe you should unfollow, mate.
And just - what a fucking reach to say I hate women when like. Naruto is pretty much the only fandom in YEARS where I've had mainly mlm ships, because the women are all written terribly lmaoooooooooooooooooooooo. I hate Kishimoto's flat and boring women characters whose arcs revolve around men. There's a difference.
I block this shit on sight from now on. You get one chance with this post, becuse you worded it politely, but you're on thin fucking ice.
Literally just unfollow me. It ain't that difficult. x
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MHA 370 spoilers
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Look man, like what you want but I've seen way too many people devil's advocating this particular page here.
Having a fictional people tell a black person he'd never get discrimination or prejudice when they could of used anybody else ( another hero) is wild to me man.
Cause black people are currently facing one of the biggest racial declines in years, they get arrested for nothing, shot at or even worst! All these negative stigmas, I can't walk down the street without some white woman clutching her purse and walking faster. Or seeing me and walking across the street no matter how busy it is.
And people on Twitter and elsewhere will say some wild out of pocket crap about black people just minding their own business.
They get censored out of Marvel/DC and star wars movies in japan, there's also places in japan that say no black people allowed! So you get why this panel is wild. It's undermining that black people will get prejudice way more than a fictional people who will get a perfect ending!
Rock lock showed up once almost died in his first appearance then vanished only to come back to get told he don't get it, my guy has less screentime than the background characters in class 1-A. MHA has done a terrible job at talking about its mutant discrimination; we're learning about the brunt of it and characters backstories in the recent chapters towards the end!
Froppy, shoji, Tokoyami, Ojiro, Mina etc all never spoke about how they struggled or how the world treats mutants. And none of thr non mutant heroes have sny opinions on it sans the ine interaction! Minorities and discriminated people tend to tslk about it more than once! And the viewer wouldn't know either with how the world is shown! (It comes across as they wanted enough prejudice talk to meet the quota but not enough to make your manga bros uncomfy)
The number 2 hero is a guy with wings beloved by all!
The num 5 hero is also beloved powerful and simped for in and out of universe and num 10 is a whale man who faces the most physical problems with discrimination we never see.
The chief of police has a dog head.
This ain't like X-men where it's actually nuanced from the start and it didn't happen at the tail end of the series. (Cause it's actually good and they have dark skinned poc, more than one! And they talk about the prejudices.)
I really do wish MHA was better, I really do.
But stuff like this? Is insulting; you can't tell a black guy a REAL RACE! He doesn't get it. And the fans pretending this is okay and genius is...tiring...
You can't tell me Rock lock the only black MHA HERO EVER, that he doesn't have it worst than fucking SPINNER! Especially when he's you know, the only black person to appear in the series with a name and voice!!
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Peter/Arthur; Arthur learning about the vampire stuff?
I have a terrible way for Arthur to find out about vampires.
Warning: violence, injury, vampire death
On with the fic!
--
Arthur was finishing up the last to his night duties, now down to just taking out the garbage, double check for any missed spots to be cleaned, and then he could lock up and go home.
He grabbed the garbage bag at the back door and stepped outside, heading for the dumpster. It had been a quiet evening, and Peter hadn't shown up. He was probably busy, the man did have a life outside of Arthur, after all. Still, he had been hoping for a text or something from the actor.
He sighed as he lifted the dumpster lid, ready to throw the bag in, before he was slammed into the metal bin. A terrible ache ran through his ribs, knocking the air out of him and he gagged. Before he could really react to what the hell just happened, he was grabbed from behind, then thrown to the ground.
Above him, under the light of the lamp behind the building, Arthur looked up at a tall, looming figure. Looking to be a man in his thirties, he was a weird, sickly gray with blue veins clearly visible on his exposed skin. His mouth was a terrifying mawh of jagged teeth, reminded Arthur of a lantern fish, and his eyes were black and void-like.
He couldn't quite get the air working in his lungs again as he stared at this terrifying man, who smiled, his mouth shifting just a bit, something slightly normal, but still so very wrong.
"Well, well, if it ain't the hunter's li'l friend..." Just as Arthur coughed, finally able to breathe again, the front of his jacket was grabbed, having him now lifted up and he could see the face better at this angle.
There was blood on this man's mouth, it was like something from a horror film, and God, he stunk of rot!
"L-let me go!" Arthur wheezed, still in pain, trying to remove the tight grip on his jacket.
"Oh no, that stupid hunter's trailin' after me, and I can use you as a meat shield. He'd never harm you, been watchin', he sure has takin' a likin' to youse."
Who the hell was he talking about? Hunter?
"What the fuck!?"
Arthur knew that voice, he looked over his shoulder, at the backdoor of the bar. Peter was standing there, dressed in his leather jacket, and... what looked to be a belt of stakes wrapped around his chest, a shotgun in his hands.
"Peter?" Arthur asked, before being flipped around, a veiny arm around his throat, the other around his waist, his back pressed against the foul-smelling man.
Peter's eyes widened and he lowered the shotgun just a tad. "Shit, Arthur, you weren't supposed to- fuck, fuck, fuck!"
"That's right, hunter," the man said, his pleased voice could make milk curdle, "whatcha gonna do, you can't hurt me wit' out hurtin' your li'l friend here."
"I... fuck, shit, damnit!" Peter cursed through gritted teeth, looking at Arthur with worry. "You've been following me!" He said to the man behind Arthur.
"'Course I've been! You've been killin' my gang!"
"Well no shit, ya dumb vampire! Drop Arthur and we can finish this off like men, not cowards."
The man laughed and held Arthur tighter. "Yeeaaahhh... not happenin'. Either you drop the weapon and surrender or you can try to fight. Either way, this guy here might not see the rest of the night..."
Arthur shuddered in disgust when he felt something wet and cold touch the side of his face, a tongue.
"How dare you!" Arthur slammed his foot down, hearing a terrible crunch from the amount of pressure he put on the other man's foot. The guy howled in pain, his grip loosening enough for Arthur put get away, rushing towards Peter.
For his part, Peter threw up the shotgun, quickly took aim, and fired. There was a loud echo as the shot rang through the small space, but there was a sickening sound as the shot hit its mark. Arthur watched as a massive hole formed in the man's chest, before he turned to a pile of dust on the ground.
Arthur stared at the pile for a moment, watching as a small gust of wind disturbed in, before his attention went to Peter. He swallowed and straightened his bow tie and jacket. "Well, I think you and I are in need of a long conversation, Peter Vincent."
Peter looked nervous, nodded, before following Arthur back inside of the bar.
--
I have this scene in mind, for a later story, where a group of vampires try to start shit with Arthur in the bar, and I really, really want him to kick their asses.
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