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s0fter-sin · 1 month

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vampire bats share mouthfuls of blood to other bats they’re close to if they weren’t able to feed and now i need old vampire!ghost sharing a bloody kiss with fledgling!soap, giving him mouthfuls of blood bc his fresh fangs are too sensitive to bite with

it’s been so long since he was turned that ghost’s forgotten the deep ache that comes with growing fangs and he almost worries when johnny goes to bite into the meal he’s brought him only to whimper and pull back; only the slightest pinpricks of a bite left in the man’s neck, barely enough to bring blood to the surface

it’s only when johnny whines and massages at his gums that ghost realises his oversight; crooning at his sweet mate in reassurance. he’s not upset that he couldn’t feed, at the unintentional rejection of his offering. he’ll make the pain stop

ghost pulls the man to his mouth and sinks in his fangs, sucking in a heavy mouthful and drops the now paralysed prey back to his feet; his throat steadily gushing with blood and spilling over his body

he cups johnny’s face, looking into his eyes, teary with pain and hunger, and purses his lips to carefully drip the blood into his mouth. the pain immediately vanishes from his eyes, replaced with pure bliss as he opens his mouth wide; curling his tongue to catch every drop. ghost presses his mouth to his in a hungry, blood-filled kiss; tongues twining together as they share the taste

johnny sucks the last of it from his lips and ghost guides him down to lap at the prey’s neck; licking up the blood he was too weak to draw himself. he’s ravenous with it, his whole face covered in red as he licks up the spill and suckles at ghost’s bite

ghost’s filled with an overwhelming pride at having provided for his mate in an even deeper way than just hunting for him. he spilled the blood johnny’s drinking; fed him in the most intimate way their kind knows and he’ll do it a hundred times over for his love

#pet peeve time i hate the vampire ‘licks a bite to stop it bleeding’ trope bc it biologically doesn’t make sense #if anything a vampire’s saliva would have an anticoagulant effect to /stop/ a bit from clotting so they can drink more #anyway back to bloody kisses lmao #thinking about the actual biological difference between humans and vampires and how much it would /hurt/ to grow a pair of fangs #like the human mouth isnt meant to have teeth that big or muscles strong enough to to support them #or the increased bite force they need #so not only are they growing new teeth theyre also growing bigger muscles and their mouths are having to adapt to them #that would cause so much pain #you ever grown in a wisdom tooth? it sucks and that nowhere near this level #on top of all that youre also starving and have an unquenchable need to feed #the intimacy of a sire feeding their fledgling from their own mouths #weaning them off their blood but still so dependent on them #and even after johnny can bite and feed on his own he still craves the closeness of being fed from ghosts mouth #and ghost never denies him #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #we’re a team- ghost team #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #soap cod

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little-pondhead · 11 months

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DP Prompt:

After a long trip through the Realms under Clockwork’s orders, Danny arrives home and is startled to discover that he doesn’t remember how to speak English. Or any human language, for that matter.

#danny phantom #pondhead blurbs #emphasis on long #he was in the realms for a long time #like really deep in the realms #spirits that far in stop resembling humans in the slightest #it’s where old gods go to die #so he used ghost speech the entire time #gets home after who knows how long #he’s grown but the worst part is he doesn’t remember how to be human again #did he die while he was out on this mission?#will he ever regain his humanity?#will he even REMEMBER his friends and family?#not sure if this has been done before but I’m putting it out here anyways

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pixlatedvampire · 5 months

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I’d like to personally thank Joey and Anya for their roles in the iconic "that’s my wife!" scene. Making it possible for this comic and all my headcanons about how yennefer and jaskier are silly w each other to be practically canon ^-^ 🌸

I think that yennefer can strategically be so so nice to jaskier as a form of warfare as a treat 💕☺️

#the witcher #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #yennisker #my art #digital art #comic #csp #finally finished this lmao 😅#I just think they are soooooo so silly w each other #like pulling pigtails but also so heartfelt #I’m not good at calligraphy or anything so I need you to imagine yennefer saying it so soft and sweet and like your the most #wonderful important person ever but also so exasperated like she couldn’t live without out you but how does she put up w this nonsense??#you need to feel like you’ll die after hearing it that’s what jaskier is going through rn #this woman is a weapon and she knows it #I think of the two of them she stops hiding behind the mask first and jaskier doesn’t know how to handle it lmao #I do think he catches up quick tho

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ibeewashere · 4 months

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I genuinely cannot describe how deeply DEVASTATED I am about riz being the only one who can take stress tokens for the others. Yes fig is a protector and will fight endlessly for her friends and I love that about her but there is something about the way riz loves his friends. It’s a more subtle kind of love, but just as relentless and passionate and he will take any burden for the people he cares about and bear the weight of it on his shoulders so they don’t have to deal with it without any hesitation. I am ILL.

#the way that murph immediately volunteered to take a stress token for Kristen without skipping a beat #AND THEN HE TOOK A FUCKING SECOND ONE WHEN THEY STILL ROLLED BAD #something something you will dig until your own hands are bleeding something something #god that quote still haunts me I will never stop thinking about it I swear to god #he works so hard #and he doesn’t ever ask for any recognition or anything in return because just helping is enough #making sure the people he loves are okay is enough for him #this stupid little goblin man makes me want to throw up /pos #he just cares so deeply for everyone around him #i love him so dearly #my silly little fella #dimension 20 #fantasy high #d20 #riz gukgak #fantasy high junior year #OH AND DONT FUCKING THINK FOR A SECOND THAT IM NOT GONNA TALKING ABOUT GORGUG MOTHERFUCKING THISTLESPRING. BECAUSE THIS BITCH /aff #he’s going to have so many stress tokens by the end of this it’s so unfunny and it is making me unwell #I just. I just want them all to be okay and happy and not stressed and GODS they all need a fucking hug #they’re all traumatized and stressed and stupid and silly and I love them all so so much #eats them #puts them in a blender #throws them into a washing machine and watches them spin around #sobs violently #I’m so ill about them #sorry for the rant #i will be back #and I will talk more I’m not actually sorry that’s mb #the tags are like a whole ass paragraph of text but that’s okay #i just think they're neat

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inoreuct · 5 months

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drink from me

a sherry-laced conversation about thirst and running away. zosan | 2k | hurt/comfort

Being a coward isn’t as easy as one might think.

It’s juxtaposition in its own right; cowardice is, as defined, a lack of bravery— And yet Sanji supposes it takes bravery to be able to ditch everything you stand for. To turn tail and run. Bravery to bear upon your shoulders the disappointment of everybody who had ever believed in you.

He sighs deeply, tilting the bottle in his hand so that the dregs of liquor slosh within. This is why he doesn’t drink.

It’s relatively easy most days. To lock his past behind a set of double doors, bar the handles with a padlock and chain so he can pretend that everything he’s running from isn’t just three paces behind, snapping at his heels, starved and ready to eat him up whole. Alcohol slots the key back into place and twists it without his permission. Twists his heart until it aches.

He doesn’t know why he’d started. The bottle of sherry had sat, nondescript and guileless and half-full on the galley table after the night’s dessert, and Sanji had paused before he’d slowly wrapped his fingers around the neck of it and let his nails scrape against the dark glass.

The cork had popped almost too easily and here he is now, taffrail digging into his forearms as he takes a long drag from his cigarette and lets bitter smoke fill his lungs full to bursting. Blood orange coats the back of his tongue, cloyingly sweet, thick on the roof of his mouth— He’d made a layered trifle with cacao nibs and caramelised cream that had been slathered between slabs of boozy vanilla sponge, and the aftertaste clings to his teeth. Sanji peers down as what’s left of the sherry glimmers vaguely inside the bottle and fights the urge to chug the rest.

He could, if he really wanted to. He hardly drinks but it certainly doesn’t mean he can’t.

A soft scrape against wood catches his attention, barely perceptible. He fights to keep his spine from stiffening, fights to maintain his loose-limbed, easy demeanor; the liquid warmth in his veins helps some but not enough, and he’s halfway through another drag when near-silent footsteps stop just behind him.

Zoro’s haori shifts in the wind, palm loosely wrapped around the end of Wado’s hilt where she’s strapped alone to his hip. “Was wondering where you went,” he says easily, looking out over the ocean.

Sanji scoffs. It burns his throat more than the sherry did. “For someone built like that, you’re surprisingly quiet, marimo.”

The immediate urge to kick himself is something new. He rarely feels it— It appears often, don’t get him wrong, he just. Ignores it. It’s a little more difficult tonight. Built like that. The noise that escapes him is mirthless. What’s that even supposed to mean, huh? Alcohol’s always made him snappy and he does feel bad for once — But he’s tired, and the chores won’t do themselves.

“Make it quick, would you?” he mutters when Zoro still hasn’t replied, low and quiet in the still evening air as he curves down to dig the heel of his palm into his temple. “My spice jars are still all over the counter, and I have to mop the floor before I wash the dishes—”

“It’s done.”

Sanji blinks, before his eyes narrow and he turns his head to look at Zoro properly. “The dishes?”

“Everything.” The swordsman huffs when Sanji gives him a dubious look, gaze flicking over and away again as he rolls his eye. “Luffy asked me to clean up the galley. Said you needed a break.”

Well. The cook exhales, measured, and buries his face into the crook of his elbow. Taps his cig so that ash doesn’t fall into his hair where he’s holding it aloft above his head. “Tell him thanks, but I don’t.”

He clocks it out of his peripheral vision when Zoro smirks and waves a hand to gesture to his cigarette and his slouch and the glass bottle dangling against wood. “What’s this, then?”

I don’t know. Shop’s closed, please fuck off and come back tomorrow morning.

The other words that sit at the tip of Sanji’s tongue are far more scathing. He feels them, bites them back viciously before he can burn anyone other than himself. “If there’s a single thing out of place in there I’m gonna—”

“Kick my ass, I know, I know.” Zoro chuckles under his breath. “Don’t you get tired of saying the same things over and over again?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t constantly choose to be selectively deaf, moss-for-brains.”

The swordsman huffs another soft laugh, and conversation peters out after that. Sanji feels an itch building at the base of his skull, flickering just under his skin; it’s making him restless. He taps the bottle against the rail just to fill the silence. Zoro reaches a hand out and Sanji gives it to him easily, unthinkingly, watching and pretending he isn’t as the swordsman thumbs over the faded paper label that’s peeling at the corner.

Zoro’s hands are scarred, he notes. He knows this, of course, but he never gets tired of letting his gaze drift over tan skin and old scars, thin slivers of pearly tissue painted silver in the moonlight. A breeze ruffles his hair as Zoro finally drinks, and he’s distantly surprised to see that it’s a measured sip and not a swig like what it usually would have been.

Fucking hell. Sanji’s inhale shudders when he pushes himself up and stands straight, now-free hand wrapping around lacquered wood as he finishes his cigarette and tosses the butt over the side. He needs to stop thinking. He’s paying too much attention. There’s a pressure building behind his forehead and Zoro is an overwhelming presence beside him, unavoidable, stoic and staunch as ever, perfect posture, perfect honour, a sentinel with a pure white sword like some sort of— of hero from a storybook. Perfect perfect perfect.

It’s all building like a scream behind his lips, a river at a bottleneck, and he clenches his jaw to keep it in. Grits his teeth until he hears them creak because what would happen if he opened his mouth? Nothing good, he’s sure. Nothing anyone needs.

Sanji nearly startles when the bottle taps against his elbow. “Talk to me.”

“Nothing to say,” he replies immediately, taking a careless gulp and holding in a cough.

Zoro’s slow exhale feels like it shifts the wind itself. Their ship creaks gently. “You always have something to say, curls.”

“Look, you—” He cuts himself off, tempering his breath. “I’m tired, alright? So can you just get to the point?” Fuck, he needs another cigarette.

Maybe that’s the problem. He knows he’s the problem, sure, but Sanji suspects that he’s been running for so long that he’s forgotten how to walk. It’s grown into him like weeds wound through his ribs, the way he sees poison in water that’s perfectly clean, the way peace makes him more anxious than chaos does. He needs to stop running. He doesn’t know how.

Zoro pries the sherry from his fingers and it’s only then that he relaxes the death grip he’d unintentionally had, a shudder slipping over his shoulders. Zoro holds the bottle loosely between his scarred fingers and doesn’t drink.

The silence thickens. Static crackles within his bones.

Sanji doesn’t know why he starts talking. Doesn’t know why it feels like a dam breaking in his chest, but his mouth is open, and the words are emptying out. “I’m tired of looking over my shoulder for something that isn’t there. Luffy gave me something to run towards, for once, but—”

He doesn’t know how to say it’s not enough without sounding ungrateful, without being greedy. “Sometimes I think I could… consume every one of the Blues, and still want more,” he allows. “Need more.” His fingers lace together, and Sanji dips his head with a wry smile even as he looks at the endless expanse of sky in front of them. “I’m afraid I’ll drink the world and still come up dry.”

There is a thirst in him. Something different than what had wracked him for a month on that barren rock. Hunger he can handle; he eats just enough to stave it off and goes about his day. This, though— Sanji can’t help the way it buzzes in the back of his head and keeps him wound up like a coil of electrical wire. He kneads dough and whisks egg whites just to have something to do with his hands. He defaults to his usual barbs when he’s feeling ungrounded so he can kid himself into thinking he possesses some semblance of normality. His shoulders ache as he stares out over the sea and wonders what it’s like to hold so much and still, still, be so achingly empty.

The winds change, carding cool fingers through his hair.

“Drink from me,” Zoro says, and Sanji’s breath catches between his teeth.

His head snaps up to find Zoro already looking at him, face unreadable, elbows on the taffrail and bottle cupped in his hands. The swordsman looks serene, Sanji thinks. Gaze trained straight ahead, ever clear of his objectives as Wado gleams at his side, starlight in an ivory sheath.

“Drink from me,” he repeats. The words are solemn as they always are in moments like these, the liminal space just after dusk but before true night, as his eyes shift over to Sanji and lock in place. “I won’t let you go thirsty again.”

Sanji’s mouth dries. It’s hard not to feel pinned as Zoro looks at him; the weight of his gaze is almost physically tangible, like a familiar green coat settling over his shoulders. That’s the thing about Zoro— For all Sanji jokes about him having plant life in his skull, the swordsman has a penchant for dropping absolutely earth-shaking statements without even seeming to think about them at all. The cook swallows once, twice, tries to find his words as his lips part and loses them as soon as he takes his next breath.

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever stop feeling like a ticking time bomb. But as Zoro’s lashes flutter and he looks away, Sanji feels something in him settle. The relentless buzz that always seems to sit just beneath his skin soothes out into a quiet hum.

Maybe part of it’s how Zoro’s scarred and still perfect. Untouchable. Sanji couldn’t hurt him even if he tried, even if he blows apart.

His fingers wrap, unthinking, around the neck of the bottle as it’s pushed back into his hand, the pressure of Zoro’s touch lingering until he’s sure that Sanji has a good grip. The swordsman’s boots brush softly across the planks as he turns to leave and he’s halfway to the stairs before Sanji speaks.

“Marimo.”

He knows Zoro turns without even looking. “Hm?”

“Did Luffy really ask you to clean up the galley?”

A pause, before Zoro starts walking again. “Get some sleep, cook. I’ll take the rest of your watch.”

The silence he leaves in his wake is honey-thick. First watch is Sanji’s shift, it always is— He cleans up the galley and stays awake until Zoro comes to take over.

(The galley is clean. His watch is covered. His mind is quiet.

For once, he can’t find himself another reason to stay.)

The sherry holds no evidence of them ever having shared it. Sanji lifts the tinted glass and there’s no trace of Zoro, no proof that his mouth had ever been where Sanji’s is— None of the candied orange and rosemary from the duck they’d had for dinner, gamey and blood-sweet.

I won’t let you go thirsty again.

Sanji tastes it still, gentle in the back of his throat as he drains the bottle.

#wrote this all listening to hozier #not a necessary accompaniment but cherry wine fits the mood perfectly even though the lyrics don’t 😌#zosan #one piece #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece zosan #one piece sanji #zoro #zoro x sanji #one piece zoro #when will i ever stop angsting sanji you ask? NEVER #cuffs him over the head because he doesn’t know how to accept affection LOOK AT HOW MUCH ANGST I CAN FIT IN THIS BAD BOY #ino writes #will i ever stop using fruit and food and liquor as symbolism? also never

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void-and-virtue · 2 years

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Neil as a team captain is positively delightful, because making him captain is both absolutely insane and absolutely brilliant. It capitalizes on the passive effect of having one (1) Neil Josten (god knows the world couldn’t handle if there were more of him) on the team in the most efficient way. Like. I’m 90% sure that after spending some time around him on the same team, most people will look up to him completely awestruck for how much he has impacted their lives, but that’s just not what is actually happening here. I feel like what’s going on is this:

Neil is a terribly amazing choice for team captain entirely because Neil is a meddlesome little asshole who will forcibly fix all of his teammates’ personal problems and improve their entire lives for literally no other reason than that he needs them to be able to focus on fucking ball so he can win at sports. It’s not even that he genuinely cares about people and their well-being (apart from his original foxes). He just gets pissed when things aren’t working properly because it makes Exy annoying when the lineup can’t communicate. Exy isn’t supposed to be annoying. Exy is life. He’d meddle whether he is captain or not, but by making him captain, he has so much more official executive power at his hands. It’s like people are explicitly asking for him to do his worst. So, fueled by his own competitiveness and love for the sport, off he goes.

Neil is just as bad as Kevin when it comes to his Exy obsession. The major difference between them is that Kevin is endlessly tactical and he runs Exy with a focus on a technical and physical level entirely, whereas Neil’s approach is to look beyond a lack of practice and basically psychoanalyzing people on why they are not doing 110% for Exy. Kevin says “let’s run this drill 500 times, then we will inevitably be better”. Meanwhile Neil is scheming how to coerce and bribe people into life-changing decisions and long-needed healing, entirely because he wants to optimize playing a sport. Exy is a team sport, which is why this is the most logical approach his little Exy brain comes up with rather than minding his own fucking business. He looks at the team and is like “is anyone gonna whip this into shape? No?? I’ll fucking do it then cowards” and goes and does exactly that. It’s like he’s fixing the equipment so he can play.

I don’t think anyone except for Andrew is really aware that Neil really isn’t doing this out of the innate goodness of his heart, but because his personal brand of practicality involves the most convoluted and creative kind of scheming. I feel like Neil is a lot more selfish than people give him credit for. Sure, there’s people he cares deeply and unconditionally for, but that’s really not everyone. It’s fascinating to watch, especially because it’s not like he ever hides that he doesn’t particularly care, but people kinda assume he does, because why else would he put in this much effort?

Exy. The answer is Exy.

#Andrew hates him for this #but I also feel like it’s Andrew’s favorite pass time to just watch Neil do as Neil does #you can’t take the meddling out of Neil #first year was Neil meddling on steroids basically bc he thought he was gonna die so he had to optimize Exy to play and had no choice #that’s how he fixed the foxes the first time #but even so #even if he doesn’t care about most of the new foxes or his eventual pro teams as much #I don’t think he will ever stop with this kind of stuff because I’m dead certain he gets so annoyed when exy isn’t exy-ing #that he ends up fixing problems the majority of people would not be able to eben pick up on just by association #Neil ‘he found their humanity interesting’ Josten #he doesn’t need the death threats to motivate him #somewhere in the background Andrew is watching his every move and realizing time and time again how terrifyingly smart Neil is #and how well he can put his observations to use in really ruthless unapologetic ways #and then Andrew is faced with the reality that all of that brainpower is being used for exy and exy alone #thinking about Neil will kill that man one day I stg #aftg #all for the game #neil josten #kevin day #andrew minyard #andreil #aftg headcanon #aftg meta #character analysis #post canon #the foxhole court #tfc

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tennessoui · 11 months

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brain will not let me sleep until I say

same age padawans au where they’ve been in a weird wired frenemies thing for ages but now that they’re both mature adults (all of 24/25 years old) they’re more friends than enemies….

And it’s Obi-Wan that Anakin tells when he’s decided he’s going to leave the Order, not anyone else. He has a wife. There was a pregnancy scare a few weeks ago and it made her want their relationship to stop being a secret so they could really have kids. He has to leave the Order. Doesn’t Obi-Wan understand?

Obi-Wan, who has been a little in love with Anakin since they were younglings, does not understand. Not one bit. Instead of wishing him well and helping him pack, he goes to the Council and requests a mission in the Outer Rim….perhaps a month long or more…perhaps undercover? No contact with anyone on Coruscant. And maybe they could assign Anakin Skywalker as his back up? He can help with the undercover aspect.

And at first, Anakin is pissed because he was planning to resign from the Order in the next few days, but Obi-Wan convinces him to go on this mission with him….one last mission as a Jedi. To say goodbye to the Jedi life.

Obviously, Obi-Wan sort of wants to go on one last mission with Anakin because in his dreams, he wants the mission to go so perfectly that Anakin stays with him the Order. But realistically, he mostly wants to go on this mission to say goodbye to Anakin and then let him go, soaking up all his warmth and light, memorizing every casual touch bestowed on him because he knows they’re ticking down to the last handful of seconds together.

But then obviously the mission works TOO well and Anakin falls in love with Obi-Wan but doesn’t admit to it even to himself before they’re on the ship about to head back to Coruscant and Anakin realizes he doesn’t want to leave this planet because he doesn’t want to leave Obi-Wan if it could always be like this so he crashes the ship during take off so they can stay longer because he’s 24 and doesn’t know how to handle the immensity of his love except through destruction

#Kit’s silly lil AUs #obikin #I couldn’t finish the Democratic fic part today writing was so hard :(#I offer this instead <3 #hopefully will get it up tomorrow #but anyway: no physical cheating but probably emotional infidelity as anakin falls in love with obi-wan but doesn’t notice #and a lot of pining but being brave about it obi-wan which could also turn into finding his rebound in the outer rim obiwan #which would then turn into seethingly jealous anakin #+ bonus points is that their cover is theyre newly weds #and obi-wan is like <3 you can touch me mister we have an open marriage <3 #and this poor guy at the bar is being stared down by a vicious anakin and he’s like uh does your husband knkw that ????#but yeah here for pretty newly knighted obi-wan creating a situation where he gets to feel anakin touch him and kiss him on the cheek #and hold his hand and call him pet names #all the while being convinced that this is all he will ever get so he has to be satisfied with this #that the yearning will stop and he will find comfort in the memory of anakin’s arm around his shoulders once he’s left the order and obiwan #to be with his wife #also obi-wan gets wasted one night and someone asks how they met or when they fell in love #and obi-wan accidentally tells the drunken truth #not the cover story #and it makes anakin go 👀🧐#but then he gets too drunk and forgets it

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hawkeyeslaughter · 1 month

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i think the reason i’ll always be so attached to henry blake is because i’ll always be a little insane over the position he was written into . like it’s different with potter . potter obviously had a softer , more human side , but when you think potter you think military man first . and to an extent it’s supposed to be like that . they introduce him like that , despite the fact that at the end of the first episode he’s in it shows him drinking with hawkeye and bj to say “ hey , he’s not completely like the other army crazy officers that have been in the show “ . but at the same time , there’s a constant reminder , in his mannerisms , in the way he’s addressed , in the way he just knows the army … he’s a military man first .

and , god , we all know it was never like that with henry , but i don’t think we ever realize the extent to which it was never really like that . from the get - go , he’s seen being more lax with the members of the 4077th . his first scene is him opening a bottle of champagne with a nurse . the way hawkeye talks about him in his letter to his dad … he refers to him as henry , cracks a few jokes about him , immediately the impression the audience gets is that this is the opposite of a military man . you’re supposed to be surprised that he’s in charge .

and maybe that’s why i find him so tragic , because he’s everything and he’s nothing . we have the expectation for him to be a colonel , but while he has the title , he’s just … not . and at the same time , he’s expected to be a friend . hawkeye and trapper always take for granted that henry is their friend , i mean , hell , they even get annoyed with him when he puts his foot down over something they do ( because he’s supposed to , he’s a colonel after all , remember ? ) . he’s expected to be a friend , but at the same time … he can’t .

and it’s even WORSE when you think about his role as a doctor because he’s supposed to be a caretaker and a commander … he’s supposed to save lives but at the same time he has to decide if they’re worth saving more often than hawk and trap do … and in episodes like aid station or the rainbow bridge he had to decide who’s life he had to put on the line even though he’s just not cut out for that . he has to care but at the same time he can’t care too much because he has to keep his composure … he can’t care in the same way that trapper and hawkeye do , even if it’s obvious that he does . he can’t , the military won’t let him . because he can’t just be a doctor , he has to a commander as well .

not even to mention his relationship with radar . like , henry was so obviously a father figure to him , he obviously loved him , yet over and over again he keeps his distance from him ( and while i think this partially is a result of the fact i just think henry has a hard time voicing how much he cares about people … if i loved you less maybe i could talk about it more , etc etc … , that’s a whole different conversation ) , and i definitely think that is because of his position too . he can’t be a family member . he has to be a leader , he has to follow the guidelines that the military has set for him . he has to treat radar the same way he treats everyone else under his command .

it’s so absurd and maybe that just adds to the comedy of it but it’s also like … he truly was just never supposed to be there . they tried to make him tougher and to an extent they tried to make him a fighter and there’s a reason it just never worked , because henry was always supposed to be a lover . making him colonel blake was like putting a round peg in a square hole and i’m pretty sure it killed him way before that plane ever crashed into the ocean . it’s just not fucking fair .

#he never ever ever got the chance to just . rest #there was just SO MUCH expected of him … like yeah no fucking wonder he was always drinking #grips you by the shoulders #hawkeye was right he was supposed to die in his bed in bloomington illinois . he was supposed to die in his bed in bloomington illinois . he #you may ask : why doesn’t this bitch stop posting about this ? when is she gonna get over it ?#great question ! the answer is never :]#mash #mashposting #m*a*s*h #mash 4077 #mashblr #henry blake #colonel blake

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somepancakeonline5377 · 3 months

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God I’m so sick of JSchlatt haters being like “erm isn’t he racist? 🤓👆” “isn’t he republican🤓👆”

NO HE IS NOT

HE MAKES EDGY STUPID JOKES THAT ARE SO CLEARLY JUST THAT, STUPID EGDY JOKES. “Erm he still shouldn’t have said it 🤓👆” THE MOST POPULAR FORM OF “EVIDENCE” WAS SOME SHITTY THUMBNAIL THAT WAS CHANGED AND A JOKE SWAGGERSOULS MADE BE FUCKING FOR REAL. ITS SO OBVIOUSLY JUST A EDGY JOKE GROW THE HELL UP.

“B-but he’s homophobic/transphobic!!” THAT MAN HAS KISSED MORE MEN THEN YOU WILL EVER MEN OR WOMAN AND HE IS IN A PODCAST WITH A OPEN TRANS WOMAN. THE PODCAST IS SLEEP DEPRIVED AND HER NAME IS ASTROSIST, SHE IS AWESOME AND CLEARLY FRIENDS WITH JSCHLATT BECAUSE OF COURSE THEY WOULD BE THERE IN A FUCKING PODCAST TOGETHER.

“Well he’s an awful person/rebublican 🤓” ITS CALLED A PERSONA, JSCHLATTS WHOLE PERSONA IS THAT HE IS AN NEW YORKER ASSHOLE BUT HE ISNT ITS JUST FOR THE BIT. HE LOVES ANIMALS, IS GREAT WITH KIDS, ACTUALLY FUNNY, AND MOST DEFINITELY NOT A DAMN REPUBLICAN. ITS CALLED A FUCKING BIT. Okay he is from New York but I digress.

Anyway fuck JSchlatt haters who don’t know shit about him, I mean if you just don’t like him for his content that’s fine but to try and make him seem like a shitty person is just shit man. I’m a JSchlatt fan for life man🔥🔥

#jschlatt #he’s my pookie wookie bear #also he is one of the best singers ever #for someone who doesn’t know how to sing he ATE the My Way cover #this bastard cannot stop winning #he’s so cool #JSchlatt haters dni #/hj #again if he isn’t your cup of tea that’s fine but PLEASE #don’t make him out to be a asshole when he really isnt #his worst crime was being white and rich #and I guess those crimes back in ‘99 #but we don’t talk about that here

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thisiswhereikeepdcthings · 1 year

Note

Bernard is the one who handles the spiders. Tim can handle many things, but spiders is not one of them

He can’t handle them *well.*

He, of course, protests this statement. C4 and swords stolen from his brother are perfectly acceptable solutions, Bernard

#tim drake #bernard dowd #I’m totally picturing a Bernard that doesn’t yet know their identities #he just sees Tim show up with a sword in one hand and c4 in the other #where’d you get that? he asks #Tim: I borrowed it from damian and Jason #Bernard:#Bernard: yeah okay #Tim accidentally mentions something about the council of spiders #Bernard: I don’t think spiders have a council #oh just you wait Bernie boy #Tim’s going to give your little conspiracy theory heart everything it could ever desire #now I want bernard to find out pretty much everything especially the league of assassins and Ra’s al ghul #but then come to the absolutely wrong-est conclusions possible #Ra’s would have a conniption #Tim would think it was hilarious #Bruce would ask Tim to please stop antagonizing the league of assassins #Tim would flip him off but Bruce put in his token protest so he’s done his duty #Jason would volunteer his services in the continuing antagonizatikn efforts #Steph would be watching all of this with popcorn #sorry I got way off track #I too do not care for spiders and feel like explosions are a valid strategy

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its-wabby-stuff · 1 year

Text

So everyone’s been punching back for @somerandomdudelmao post. If you know, you know, and if you don’t where have you been? And I saw one of the reblog’s today of Casey and Donnie and it got the cogs in my brain running. So here is a potentially possible outcome for the future:

———————

Here’s the thing. Casey knew the fight was over. They had won and the Krang weren’t here anymore. Of course, the entire event hadn’t come without its own consequences. Most of downtown New York had been destroyed. People had been injured and people had died. The government had stepped in to take care of most of the tragedy. And the event itself made international news.

But Casey didn’t care about most of that. He wasn’t even sure what most of it meant, just the ramblings he heard from the family as they recovered. They hadn’t left the lair since that day. They couldn’t afford too. The city was in a state of panic, and all of them had sustained injuries, the worst of which being Leonardo.

He had been asleep for days. It was vital for recovery, Casey knew, but the whole thing made him incredibly nervous. Casey felt like a little kid again, sitting on a chair with his knees up to his chest, just watching him. Donatello rarely left Leo’s side either. His own injuries meant he needed attention, and with Leo out, he had the best medical expertise on the machines they’d hooked him up too. Casey often asked questions, which Donnie was eager to answer. That much was the same.

Casey had long since changed out of his resistance garb, being offered a variety of clothes from each of the boys. He never let go of his mask though. That was much too important to him. Gifts and reminders from all the people he loved most.

He was alone today. With Leo. Donatello had entrusted him with enough information for any sort of emergency. But it meant he was allowed to think. He fiddled with the mask in his hands, tracing the markings he had painted on and the scratches it had received out on the field. He let his legs fall into a cross-cross as he slipped the mask onto his face and turned it on. Uncle Tello had left many tidbits of information, recordings and plans for an eventual future where we had won. Not even in his wild imaginations could he have imagined that future in the past. And now there were a million things Casey wanted answered that weren’t saved on his Uncles little device. He had a favorite file, however. One he’d rewatched a million times before.

“Is it working?” He watched Uncle Tello tilt up the camera. Behind him were all the people he loved: Sensei Leonardo, Master Michelangelo, robotic Uncle Raph, Commander O’Niel, and himself.

“It may be older than us, but it still works,” Uncle Tello replied.

“The little red light is blinking right?” Master Michelangelo flew over, looking at the camera upside down with amazement. Uncle Tello pushed him outta the way.

“Despite its primitive nature, it seems to be completely intact. Nothing askew. It’s quite impressive. Great find, Casey Jones.”

Sensei scooped up the kid and ruffled his hair.

“There’s not much storage space left on the card, so we better make it short and sweet. How about a picture? For my archives.” Everybody gathered close together as the timer started counting down. “Everybody say: Genius Built Apparel rules!!”

The video stopped there. Paused on a picture of all of them together. Casey couldn’t help but let out a couple tears, hidden by the mask. It might have been the apocalypse, but it was familiar and comforting, and here, they had all been happy.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Unc- Donatello!” Casey looked over, his view still obstructed by the photo paused on his screen. “No, no everything is fine, I was just-“ he pulled his mask off and wiped away whatever remnants of tears he had before he looked up at the turtle who had just entered the room. He didn’t have any of his tech on, using his wooden Bo staff to assist his walking, and his bandages had been covered by the presence of an oversized purple hoodie. Casey stared at him, “reliving old memories. Un- Donnie, are you feeling alright?” Casey stood up, panic ever present on the boys face.

Donnie just gave a perplexing look in response. “Are you?”

“I-“ The Krang are gone, Casey. This isn’t like when Uncle Tello got sick. This isn’t the same. There’s no way the Krang would’ve- could’ve. They couldn’t have. How would they? Tears fell down Casey’s face as he sat back down.

Donnie regretted asking the second he had. He wasn’t any good with this sort of stuff and he had clearly been crying before and now he was crying again. There was something on his mind. “I’ll go get Mikey-“

Casey grabbed Donnie’s hand, and his immediate response was to pull away, but he suppressed the urge when he felt how clammy Casey’s hands were, and how they shook just a little. “Uncle Tello, you- you aren’t going to die, are you?”

Donnie had never heard Casey call him that before. And he said it softly, and nervously, not even looking him in the eyes.

“You think a quarrel with an alien species is enough to get rid of me?”

Casey didn’t say anything. In fact what Donnie said didn’t seem to help the situation any at all. And Donnie was starting to put all the little pieces together. Something had happened to him in the future. Something not good.

“Casey, did something happen to me in the future? Did-“ he wasn’t sure if he should ask it but his curiosity took ahold of him, “did I die?”

Casey lurched forward and wrapped his arms around Donnie. Which was a surprising response, but all he needed to know the answer was yes. Despite how quickly it had happened, Casey was incredibly gentle about it. His hands still shook a little as he rested his head into Donnie’s chest.

Honestly, Donnie was a little upset by all this new information. He hadn’t survived the apocalypse, and he had been close to Casey Jones, who had to witness his death. He couldn’t imagine how crazy this entire week had been for Casey. Donnie still wasn’t sure what exactly caused this reaction from him, but slowly, he leaned down, grabbing around Casey’s back and hugging tightly.

Casey let out a breath and hugged tighter, absolutely collapsing, shaking incredibly and crying into Donnie’s favorite purple hoodie. Keep it together, the hoodie can always be washed. For once, Donnie didn’t need to wonder what to do, because this felt like enough. And no words needed to be said.

Only in Casey’s wildest dreams was he able to hug Uncle Tello again. He knew Donnie was never a big fan of physical affection but he’d always seemed to make an exception for him. Old or young, and for a minute it didn’t matter that this wasn’t the Donnie he knew. It didn’t matter that they were now the same age, or that Casey was actually taller. Or how he could feel Donnie loosening and trying to end it. No matter how long this moment was, it would never be long enough.

———————

Ahahaha. I don’t even know. Thanks for reading. Likes and Reblogs appreciated!!

#I dunno I’m literally making this up as I go #wabbystuffpost #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise casey #Donatello #casey jones Jr #ptsd #I mean surely that would bring up some memories #I have a hard time knowing when and how to stop so sorry if it ends up rub you #abruptly #honestly because life doesn’t ever stop and there are always moments in between it’s super hard to stop writing sometimes #I know what happens before and after this #but I just wanted to capture one moment #Donnie went to get his hoodie because he was cold #and he also brought in some food for Casey which he couldn’t see and didn’t notice #rise of the tmnt #cass apocalyptic series #Leo saved Donnie from the physical affection when he woke up just after this #I could prolly draw this #but sometimes it’s easier to write

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