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iguana-eyanna · 5 months

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To Be Something More

Pairing: Shayne Topp x fem!reader

Summary: This isn't your regular movie night with Shayne.

Requested by @winifrede . This was fun to write!

"Pride and Prejudice?"

"No, watched that with Jackie."

"Mr. and Mrs. Smiths?"

"Really?"

"Hey, it's still a good movie."

"Yeah, from old fossils like you"

Shayne gasped dramatically as he grabbed his chest.

"That is just hurtful and you know that."

"Oh please, nothing can penetrate those muscles you have." You said, popping some popcorn in your mouth.

It was your annual movie night with Shayne at your place. (You tease how he has such a small place for a big man and he blushes at times when you call him that.) Now as you scrolled down Netflix, it seemed as if you went through the entire collection of films.

You suddenly get a ping off your phone and you look down at it, chuckling.

"What?" Shayne asks, curiously.

"Ah it's nothing."

"C'mon, I wanna see." Shayne whined.

"Dude, get a grip." You said, pulling your phone away from his view.

Not even a millisecond, Shayne jumped on top of you, trying to reach your phone as he tickled your waist.

"What - the - hell?" You gasped, laughing uncontrollably, feeling as you're losing the gip on your phone.

Shayne finally reached out and finally caught it, staring at your screen.

"Now let's see why you're so secretive."

He inspects and sees that it's a video on YouTube, but specifically a video they just published online for Smosh. Shayne and Damien were supposed to shoot a cooking video and have the Mythical Kitchen Chefs test your food.

Damien got a cold, so you filled in as Shayne's competition. The entire video was just you bickering back and forth about who made better cookies.

"How was filming with the Try Guys baking competitions compared to this?" Shayne asked Josh who was off camera. "Actually, pretty chaotic here than their studio." You laugh as you knead your dough. "Yeah, you viewers are lucky you don't have to be fed up with this guy. When Shayne and I bake, he's so technical with the measurements, that he bought a food scale for my birthday." You said. "So we can both use it!" Shayne yelled out. Shayne looks at the camera, pausing his mixing. "If you saw how she bakes at home, you'd understand my frustration. Look at her now!" Your side of the kitchen was messier compared to Shayne's, making you frustrated. "You know, when the judges eat mine, it'll taste like love. Yours will taste like stale protein shakes." You said as he was also using that as an ingredient. "Oh yeah? Why don't you come over here and prove it." He said, taking a spoon of peanut butter and trying to flick it in your bowl. "No means don’t even try." You said as Shayne tried to sabotage your recipe. "It looks like you could use more - flour." Shayne said, throwing a fistful of all-purpose flour all over your arm. "That's it. No more playing nice." You replied, throwing some marshmallows at him as he tried deflecting it. You two went at it for a couple of minutes till Shayne lifted you in the air and threw you on his shoulder. Both of you were in hysterics.

The editing team had to reduce the food fight to manage the video better, but the full fight was posted later, gaining more traction with viewers. Shayne and you gained a good amount of new followers the following day.

Shayne scrolled down and saw the comments, knitting his eyebrows.

is it me or - no, no one sees this but me? okay 👀

I will go FERRAL if this is platonic because that's just robbing us 😤🫠

I want Shayne to lift me in the air like that 😭🥵

"These comments are very..."

"Colorful? You should see the fan edits."

"You've watched them?" Shayne said looking down at you.

"Yeah, they've been all over my fyp on TikTok."

Shayne chuckles as you later joined in the laughter till it dies.

"Hey, Shayne?"

"Yeah?"

"You're still on top of me."

"Oh, sorry." He quickly said, sitting up.

You shimmy upward and stole your phone back from him.

"C'mon, I think it's more entertaining to watch these compared to whatever's on TV."

So all night, you and Shayne were comparing fan edits on your couch.

"Here, look at this one." Shayne said, lifting his phone to your face. It was the infamous Keanu Reeves TikTok where he's crying while sipping wine and wearing headphones. The caption read 'give up all your money or have Shayne & you as canon'

"Nope, mine's better." You said, showing Shayne a compilation of you two titled 'Shayne Topp Shooting His Shot.'

"Wow, they said I tried flirting with you 39 times?" Shayne asked.

"That's only from this month's videos." You said.

"Well, you're also flirting back at me." He said, knowing he's just getting under your skin

"Please, you’re the one always stirring the pot.” You said, leaning forward to him as you crossed your arms

“Oh I’ll show you pot stirring” Shayne said in a matter a fact voice, inching closer to your face. You flutter your eyes as his direct his gaze to your lips. And in a moment, Shayne found his hands back to your waist as he kissed you.

Your face began to heat up and your thoughts became haywired. But all you could do is deepen the kiss as you tangled your fingers through his hair. Soon enough, you found yourself climbing on top of his lap as you didn't draw a breath till you pulled away.

You two stare at each other in bewilderment.

"Wow" Shayne whispered.

"You know, you're not as bad of a kisser as I thought you'd be."

"You thought of us kissing?" He asks, softly.

"From time to time. How about you?" You said, not knowing his true feelings.

"I um, I think about us... a lot."

"Really?" Your heart skipped a beat.

"Yeah I mean, you make me laugh the most when we shoot videos and when you're the only one who actually listens to my workout regime-"

"I know how much you like to brag," You said, playfully rolling your eyes.

"-but you take the time to listen. And when we hang out like this, I wouldn't trade it for anything else."

You slowly wrap your hands behind his neck as you look at him lovingly.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

"I want us to be something more if you want to."

You nod your head softly as you place your hand on his cheek.

"Wouldn't have anyone else, Shayne."

Shayne gives a breath of release and smiles at you, beaming with so much joy. You two kiss again, later connecting your foreheads together feeling this fluttering sensations you never felt before.

Later, you find yourself in Shayne's arms as you cuddle under a blanket as you watch 10 Things I Hate About You, as you finally get to end your movie night right.

In more ways than you can imagine.

#shayne x you #shayne x reader #shayne topp #shayne topp x reader #shayne topp smosh #smosh fanfic #fanifiction smosh #smosh shayne #smosh pit

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estrellami-1 · 6 months

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If I Should Stay

This one is on time! Woohoo! 😂

Part 1 | . . . | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29

Eddie leaves eventually, Steve seeing him out. He jumps when he turns around and sees Alli standing there, smirk on her face, arms crossed. “Geez, Alli,” he laughs, “gonna have to put a bell on you.”

“Don’t deflect,” she says, but she’s smiling.

“You haven’t actually said anything yet,” he responds, and she gives him a look that screams, do I really need to?

After a few seconds of thought, he shrugs. “Fair enough. We’re waiting, for now.”

“For what?”

“The end of the end of the world.”

“Christ,” she laughs, moving to ruffle his hair, “you’re dramatic.” She inclines her head towards the kitchen. “Hot chocolate?”

He smiles and nods. “Haven’t had a cup as good as yours in thirteen years, Al, think I’m about due.”

She gives him a sad sort of smile and ruffles his hair again. “Then I’ll just have to make this the best cup ever, to make up for all those, huh?”

“When’s the last time you saw me?” He asks suddenly, watching as she stirs the milk on the stove, adding a bit of cinnamon.

She frowns over at him. “This morning, before I left. Why?”

He shrugs. “Just wondering. Who’d you hang out with?”

A blush colors her cheeks. “Cassidy.”

“Oh,” he says, and grins at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“It’s going well?”

“It’s going so well, bubba, I love her,” she breathes.

He grins and hands her the cocoa. “Yeah?”

“God, so much, we’re talking about finding a place and moving in together, and I can’t wait.”

“How long have you been together?”

“About a year and a half. It’s hard, y’know? You don’t know who’s safe and who isn’t.”

Steve hums. “I know.”

“But it’s going… really well, God, and now that you know, everyone important knows.”

Steve grins. “Mom and Dad?”

Alli laughs. “Never. A few other friends, a few of her friends, though we’re mostly all friends. She’s got a little brother too, a little younger than you, and he knows too.”

He narrows his eyes at her. He remembers Cassidy’s younger brother. “How old do you think I am?”

She gives him a shit-eating grin before shrugging. “I dunno, like, eight?”

“Asshole,” he says, but he’s laughing, and she’s laughing, and he’s happy.

The night doesn’t last forever, though; soon enough their mugs are drained and they’re both yawning, and they promise to catch up tomorrow over coffee before Steve has school and Alli has work.

That plan is derailed when Alli shakes Steve awake twenty minutes before he has to leave. “Shit,” he curses groggily, throwing open his closet doors and jumping out of his sleep pants at the same time. He settles on a polo and jeans before rushing over to his phone to call Robin, who answers just as groggily as he’d been.

“‘Lo?”

“Robs,” Steve says urgently, “school. Imma be there in fifteen.”

“Shit!” She screeches, and he hears her rush out of bed. “I owe you my life, I’ll get you a bagel, see you!”

With that, she ends the call and he chuckles as he rushes to the bathroom to try to tame his hair.

He squeezes Alli in passing before grabbing his car keys and rushing out the door, before just as quickly rushing in and grabbing his backpack. “Love you, bye!” She calls, but the door’s shut before he can answer.

Still, he calls a, “Love you!” Over his shoulder, in the off chance she hears it, before making his way to Robin’s house.

She throws open her door and runs to his car when he pulls up, waving to her mom, who appears in the doorway, looking mystified.

“Steve,” she says as soon as she’s seated, “I owe you my life.”

Steve chuckles and takes his bagel from her. “Yeah, you said that earlier. I honestly was calling just to see if I was gonna drive you or not.”

Robin snorts. “If you think I’d willingly put myself through the mortifying ordeal of riding the bus ever again, you clearly don’t know me as well as we thought.”

Steve chuckles. “I figured as much,” he agrees. “Then as it turns out you were still asleep, so the answer was pretty obvious. Forget to set your alarm?”

She groans and throws her head back. “Yes. I’m not used to being in school.”

Steve nods. “Same here, Alli woke me up twenty minutes before I had to leave.”

Robin smiles. “She seems cool.”

“Alli? She is. She’s the coolest, honestly, she was super cool when I told her about Eddie. Oh!” He says suddenly, flapping a hand her direction. “Eddie!”

Her brows fly into her hairline. “Eddie?”

“He stayed last night,” Steve starts. “Well, stayed later, anyways. We went out onto my roof and smoked a joint together and just… started talking, y’know? And, uh.” He can feel his cheeks turn scarlet. “We decided to wait until after the end of the world. But we do wanna try.” He bites his lip and says, quieter, wondering, “He thinks I’m worth waiting for. Working for. He’s gonna try, after you and I are back in our present.”

“Steve,” Robin whispers, staring at him. “That’s great, I’m so happy for you.”

He smiles shyly. “Thanks,” he whispers. “I’m hopeful, y’know?”

“Yeah,” she whispers back, and he knows she does actually understand.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy @paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #eventual steddie #Allison Harrington #robin buckley #fix it fic #time travel #time travel fix it #starambles

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save-the-villainous-cat · 1 year

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Cat, I beg of you, if you'd be so king as to accept this request

TOUCHSTARVED HEROOOO 🛐🛐🛐🛐

“You're angry with me.”

“I am not.” That wasn't quite the truth, was it? The hero looked up from their bloody hands and back at the villain who seemed to be much softer in this light.

And still, their brain wouldn’t comprehend it, wouldn’t accept why the villain liked them, could possibly love them. They were a mess, weren’t they? A broken toy people were too afraid to touch.

“I just want to know what happened,” the villain said. Their living room was spacious and the hero felt small when they looked at the artsy decor and the lavish furniture. It was clean and cozy. Lots of plants, lots of colour. It wasn’t at all what the hero had thought it to be.

“Uhm…” The hero had stared at the room too much to get any sentence from the villain through their skull. Mesmerised by how alive this home seemed to be, they observed the details. This apartment seemed to be breathing on its own, with the villain’s cat looking out of the window, waiting to cause some mischief.

The hero swallowed, realising that their tears hadn’t dried yet.

“It’s very sad,” they sad. “Your living room, I mean.”

The villain didn’t seem to be too happy that the hero was deflecting the question but they were also way too gentle to put any pressure on the hero right now.

“Yeah, I suppose. It’s a little too obvious,” the villain said.

“Do you miss growing plants? Letting them sprout and watching them grow? All because you were born with those powers?”

For a long time, the villain didn’t say a word and the hero feared this was going too far. They hadn’t been this close for long and the hero was very anxious and couldn’t help but think the villain was going to end whatever this was when the hero said the wrong thing.

But then, the villain spoke gently with a sweet tone the hero could’ve drowned in.

“I do miss it. There’s little you can do when your power is taken from you.” They took a step forward and leaned down, wiping away the hero’s tears with their thumb. “But I have to live with it, don’t I?”

The hero nodded slowly as they closed their eyes. Whenever the villain touched them, they felt like they were in heaven. The warmth, the comfort…it was all the hero needed, more than they deserved but still less than they wanted. They’d never asked for it but they had always wanted more of the villain’s touch.

Not even in a sexual way. Just touching. Being there. Being understood.

“Now, darling.” The villain drew patterns with their thumbs into the hero’s cheeks. “Tell me what happened, my love.”

The hero leaned into their hand when the villain’s palm came to rest against the curve of their jaw, fingers lazily draped over their neck.

“I jumped off a building and…yeah, the rope I was holding onto burnt my hands.” They held up said hands, as if to show the bloody evidence. “Because of the friction it dug really deep and I…yeah, I took painkillers already, it’s okay.”

“Oh, my sweet darling,” the villain said, not letting go of the hero once. The hero couldn’t imagine what it must’ve felt like to lose their powers.

The villain had told them — very vaguely — how painful it was. They’d been unconscious for several days after, sort of like a coma, resulting in months of recovery. They’d been one of many lab rats, one of many who had suffered. One of many to come.

“Can I take care of your hands?” the villain asked.

“Yes, just…let’s stay like this for a few more seconds, okay?” The hero wanted to touch the villain so bad, wanted to do the same things they were doing. But that was impossible with bloody hands.

“Just a few seconds, though,” the villain said. Seconds turned into minutes when the villain continued to touch the hero’s neck and face. Running their hand through the hero’s hair, wiping away dirt and following the curved and straight lines of their features — the hero couldn’t have been happier, despite finding out on their mission today that they were gonna be robbed of their powers next week as well.

#me when mw ehwn me when snowy requestss #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

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respectthepetty · 7 months

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Kang's Trust Issues

All roads lead to my wild ass theory

Kang's dad told him that dogs must be punished to be controlled.

Both times Sailom has unknowingly approached the subject of Kang's dad, it has allowed Kang to be honest about his failing relationship with his father.

Yet Kang immediately stops himself and deflects.

Almost as if he was trained to belittle what he is saying, so someone else doesn't have to.

Because Kang's dad trained him to not trust himself.

And Sailom has fed into that.

Kang doesn't believe in anything, so Sailom gave him something to believe in - Sailom himself, but with that, Sailom also gave Kang someone he could trust since he can't trust himself.

So even though Kang is going about his relationship with his tutor in the queerest and most dominant way possible, he doesn't believe they are friends, so he wouldn't even be able to imagine he loves Sailom.

Because what Kang's dad really trained him to do was to lie to himself.

But he knows he can trust Sailom.

Because Sailom never lies.

And Sailom only acknowledges Kang when he is being honest.

Sailom has never eaten expensive steak. Sailom has never played with VR. Sailom likes free shit. Sailom got Kang's birthday cake from Kang's own fridge. Sailom was at that restaurant with a client. Sailom gets beaten up by debt collectors. Sailom told Kanghan all of this without hesitation. He never lies to Kanghan.

So how would Kang react if he thinks Sailom is lying to him?

Like . . . hypothetically helping his brother plan to rob Kang's house while he is out with Kang?

Especially if Kang, a boy who can't trust himself, trusts Sailom completely and starts to trust his feelings for him. How would a boy who has been tamed like a dog react?

And now it makes sense why Kang is not a boy of words, thoughts, or feelings, but actions. Kang has trust issues with himself. This is why he likes Sailom's approval because unlike his father who spins his desires into a negative (you don't want to do it), Sailom makes him feel positive (you can do it).

But it also shows why Kanghan's reactions are so out-of-control with Sailom (aggressive) compared to his reactions with his father (passive). With his dad, if Kang doesn't have options, he doesn't have to think, and if Kang doesn't think for himself, he can't act. But with Sailom . . .

Kang's trust in his father is based on control. His father made a deal with him only to break it. His father got Kang a motorcycle that he picked out for him. His father expects Kang to take over the family business. His father isn't controlling, but he doesn't need to be when he is already in control of Kang's future unlike Sailom who puts no pressure on Kang to pass his tests even though his job depended on it. Sailom trusts Kang will make the best decision for himself. Just like with his brother, Sailom has faith Kang will do the right thing.

So, once again, when Saifah breaks into Kang's house, will Kang trust the boy who never lies to him? Will Kang trust his tutor who demands honesty of him? Will Kang trust the friend who keeps his promises? And, more importantly, will Kang trust himself enough to know that he is more than dollar signs to Sailom?

Or will he lie to himself like he was trained to do?

Blue Boys are known for their honesty and trustworthiness.

So I have faith that he'll know the truth in his heart.

Don't disappoint me, kid.

#dangerous romance #my entire personality #kanghan and his trust issues #he doesn't trust himself #so he doesn't trust that his feelings are real #he trusts Sailom #but what will he do when he has to trust his instincts about Sailom?#believe in yourself!#believe Sailom #the angst can come from something else #wild theory is alive and well

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goshdangronpa · 7 months

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Thinking about when Mahiru brings up Sonia as a possible choice for group leader of the SDR2 crew besides Imposter, and Sonia says:

But like, we learn that this is not true. Sonia takes her duty as a leader of her people with great seriousness. In her FTEs and throughout the main game, she mentions all the complex skills she's had to master for when she someday becomes queen. She'll do much more than wave from balconies, give knighthoods to rock stars, and deal with tabloids.

So why deflect in this manner? Why make herself less? Because that's why she came to Hope's Peak. When Sonia introduces herself to Hajime, she expresses that her desire is to be on the same level as all her classmates. No one back in Novoselic is both around her age and on her level in the social hierarchy as the country's princess. This is her first opportunity to be just another person, a girl who can make genuine friends and have sleepovers and other normal teen things. It may be her last before she resumes her duties.

To be leader of the class would only rob her of this once-in-a-lifetime chance. If someone else wants the role so badly, they can have it!

That's the beauty of Danganronpa writing at its best: just one line can reveal itself to be highly motivated and deeply rooted in a complex character.

#danganronpa #super danganronpa 2 #sdr2 #goodbye despair #sonia nevermind #yeah I'm rewatching a playthrough of the game #thanks to justonegamr for being the ultimate resource

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brokebrakes · 1 year

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'breakfast's ready!' i heard sanji yell at the top of his lungs. i sighed, closing my book and putting it on the side table, remembering to mark my page with a dog ear.

'mm.. food?' luffy muttered while being half awake, floating cartoonishly into the kitchen. i giggled, following his lead. robin tapped my shoulder, catching my attention.

'did you need something?' she looked at me with worried eyes, and a suspicious aura. 'you okay? you don't seem like yourself today. usually, you'd be floating right beside luffy.'

'oh.. i'm fine! no need to worry about me. thanks for the concern, rob.' she nodded, taking a seat at the table. but i could tell i didn't convince her at all. truth be told, i got lost in a book robin recommended to me, and pulled an all nighter. so i was super groggy come morning.

sanji whirled over to nami and placed a cup on the table. 'here you go, nami-swan!' she grabbed the glass, taking a refreshed sip. 'thanks, sanji!'

he then whirled over to robin the same manner, holding the plate with a well crafted sandwich very carefully. 'enjoy, robin-chan!' she chuckled, watching as the cook zoomed off to where i was sitting.

i rocked in my seat, beside brook and chopper, ready for my meal. 'i made this just for you, y/n-chan!' he exclaimed, placing my plate of f/m in front of me.

'thank you, sanji!' i replied with the same energy, reaching for a bite. sanji stared at me, a slight frown on his face. 'so? how is it?' he questioned, clutching the tray in his hand. while chewing obnoxiously, i put a threw him a thumbs up, a smile on my face.

the clattering came to a stop, and everyone turned to face me, shocked. i fidgeted awkwardly, a cold sweat forming.

'why're you guys staring at me all of sudden..?' i uttered, swallowing the food in my mouth. 'that's it? a thumbs up?' the blond haired chef clenched his fists, and dropped to his knees.

'tell me what i did wrong.. please! was it flavorless? was it too dry? too watery? too salty?!'

'a thumbs up means it was good!' i tried assuring him, kneeling down beside him. 'no.. there were no endless compliments.. you didn't even call me sanji-kun! i must've done something wrong!'

'you don't seem like your super self, y/n. did something happen?' franky asked, already finishing his meal. i shook my head, letting him know i was alright.

'can i have your food?' luffy was already extending his arm, aiming for my plate. i shrugged, but sanji wasn't having any of it.

'hands off, bonehead!' he shouted, deflecting his arm with a kick. 'rude..' luffy pouted, stuffing his face with zoros meal instead.

'where did i go wrong?!' sanji asked once again, tears forming in his eyes. i squeezed his hand, causing a bit of blood to drip from his nose. 'sanji-kun, it's perfect. just the way i like it. my handsome little chef could never go wrong.' i wiped the tears spilling from his eyes, and engulfed him in a hug.

'y/n-chan.. i'm your handsome little chef?' he sniffled, hearts beginning to form in his eyes as more blood gushed out of his nose. i nodded, tracing what i hoped were soothing circles down his spine. 'better yet, the sexiest chef in the world.' i whispered in his ear, kissing his earlobe.

'i love you, y/n-chan!' he flew back, an absurd amount of blood shooting out of his nose. i gasped, turning to chopper for help as everyone else laughed.

#sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #op sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji x black reader #one piece x black!reader #one piece #one piece imagine #black girl #black reader #x black reader #black woman #anime #anime x reader #anime x black!reader #oneshot

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macdenlover · 1 year

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the parasocial relationship ive fallen into with these 3 middle aged men combined with my autism super powers of pattern recognition has given me profound (and maybe delusional, who knows) insight into their minds and realistically here’s where i think they all land on macdennis.

i think charlie is the most on board with it but in a casual wouldnt-that-be-pretty-funny way and i think his biggest gripe with it would be them eventually running out of ways to make it fit the comedy of the show once the initial chaos of it dies down. rob is probably the most into taking on the sheer newness of exploring a relationship dynamic like that but he’s also very analytical and his gripe would be whether or not it would stray too far from the premise of the show and he’d possibly be worried about it turning into a “gay show” because of the ratio. and now for my most controversial take yet i think glenn is the least on board with macdennis especially when it comes to making dennis canonically queer. i get the vibes that he would think making dennis bisexual or whatever would send the wrong message because having a character as despicable and as “sexually deviant” as dennis be ACTUALLY gay would come across as them vilifying queer people. which rob would then push back against saying there’s bad people out there who just Happen to be gay there’s nothing wrong with putting that on television. (i’m starting to suspect glenn not being there is the reason they were able to push the envelope so much with them in s13-14.) I think they’ve had serious in depth conversations about their relationship and their plan has been to just keep postponing it until they figure out if they want to proceed with it later or just let it fizzle out into nothing. it’s definitely not at the forefront of their minds when they make the show but it’s back there somewhere for sure. the biggest hurdle i think they’re getting to especially this far into the show is deciding how heavily they want to lean into the commentary/satire aspect and how much they want to lean into the characters and their personal motivations— because a lot of the time the two blend together really well but with something like macdennis, as funny as it may be, it would require them to either lose the satire, have the relationship be unintentionally read as satire in a way that comes across as homophobic, or they’d have to find some way to incorporate satire into that storyline in way that’s successful AND true to their sense of humor AND would deflect from them being gay (like making fun of traditional couple tropes? idk). i think at some point they’re gonna hit “fuck it” and finally pull the trigger but that’s gonna be when the show has nothing left to lose. as for s16 im predicting there’s gonna be some significant macden moments but i don’t think it’s actually going canon yet.

again these are just my thoughts if you think im totally off i’d love to know

#iasip #macdennis #source: i made it up #cant tell if i’m being weird or if this makes sense to anyone besides me

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outstandingblue · 1 year

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Promises to Keep

Seven - A Winner and A Loser

part seven! came faster than i expected. this is a slow burn, but we're starting to get to the fun stuff :))

recom!miles quaritch x fem!na'vi oc

Within the span of a few hours, Jiniraa is going to win a little, but also lose everything.

cross-posted on ao3 - find it here content warning: fighting, persistent injuries, angst word count: ~3.7k

“Let’s go sweetheart, I don’t got all day.”

Jiniraa was completely zoned out, standing on the mat completely dazed. The sound of Miles’ taunt brought her back to reality. Trying to find the smallest semblance of confidence, she took a step toward. The right corner of Miles’ lip twitched upward. Bingo.

Jiniraa was trying to remember everything Jake attempted to teach her all those years ago. The blood rushing through her ears was distracting. Her appendages were tingling. Shaking her hands out, she took a deep breath.

Rule number one: always protect your face. She heard Jake’s voice echo from the back of her head. She tightened her hands into fists, raising her forearms to shield her face. Be light on your feet. You’re small and fast. Use it to your advantage. She balanced herself on the balls of her feet. Keep your wrist stiff when you strike. Leave them loose and you’ll shatter your wrist.

The Recoms snickered around the mat. Spider growled at their ridiculing attitude. She didn’t look threatening whatsoever. Their voices were starting to get to her - her eyes unfocused as they got louder.

“Hey - eyes on me.” Miles snapped, pulling her back.

She took a quick step forward, sending a fist through the air. Miles caught it with ease, pushing it back. He didn’t send a counter strike, only deflecting the attack. She sent another strike, this time aiming for his torso. Once again, he stopped it without trying. A frustrated growl reverberated in her chest as embarrassment began to take control of her actions.

Switching tactics, she sent a quick kick through the air. It made contact with Miles’ side. It actually made contact. His eyes widening at the contact, but he didn’t budge in the slightest.

“Not bad. At least you got some strength. Let’s see more.” He baited her on, this time sending his own punch her way.

She always thought Jake’s punches were powerful, but Miles? His were lethal weapons in comparison. Compared to his normal brute force, this was a love tap, but it was enough to momentarily rob her lungs of air. Her eyes widened at the pain.

She managed to lean out of the way just in time to evade the next punch, keeping light on the feet helped her jump out of the way. He was relentless with his advances, taking aggressive steps forward. She was pushed back towards the edge of the mat, closer to their audience. Their berating voices buzzed around, unclear and overwhelming.

Miles watched as she danced around the mat. He’d never seen a fighter move as gracefully as she did, swiftly dodging his fist. Hair began to fall around her face as she whipped around, backing away from the Colonel.

She went on the offensive, making an advance on him. A quick flash of blue could be seen before a foot was sent towards his side again. The second kick, both using her right leg. The favoritism was clear. Miles smirked and made a mental note, adding it to his mental profile.

Rather than deflect the limb, he shot his hand down to grab it. His smile was wicked, he was in control of the situation. He squeezed his fingers, feeling the fabric of her pants against his palm. She gulped as the material scratched her leg.

She tried to pull away, eyes widening in fear. There was no chance she could overpower his grip. It was unrelenting, an iron hold on her. His eyes were crazed as adrenaline pumped through his veins, enjoying power. He wanted to officially win.

“You giving up, darlin’?” He asked? She wasn’t given a chance to respond before he forcefully tugged her ankle towards his side, an attempt to pull her closer.

A loud pop reverberated around the room, causing everyone to go silent instantaneously. Within seconds, tears flooded her eyes. Miles watched, too stunned to let go. Her eyes rolled backwards slightly, exposing the whites of her eyes. He connected the dots - the sickening pop came from her hip, caused by his aggressive yank.

He instantly let go of the limb, almost expecting her to collapse to the ground. She expected the same as well. In the past, she would’ve tapped out at the earliest sign of pain or discomfort. Honestly, she was surprised she’d lasted this long - she could feel the bruises forming under her knuckles and where Miles made contact. She stumbled for a moment, but managed to remain upright.

Spider took a step forward onto the mat. He was familiar with the sickening sound of her joints rubbing together. No matter how many times he’d hear the sound, it would make his stomach twist in disgust every time. Jiniraa saw the human move in her peripheral vision. Her hand shot out to him.

“I-I’m fine, Spider,” she managed to choke out. The pain was blurring her vision and affecting her ability to speak.

“Hey, I think we can call it-” Miles began.

“No.” She returned back to her full height, rubbing the heel of her hand into her hip, trying to alleviate even the smallest amount of pain. A newfound determination was set on her face. She tucked a rogue chunk of hair behind her ears, bringing her first back to guard her face.

Miles shrugged his sounders. A twinge of guilt zapped through his stomach as she grimaced with her first step. It was quite obvious she was well past her threshold for pain. He needed to end this sparring match soon or she could injure herself permanently.

He allowed her to come to him. Crouching down as she sent a fist to his chest. He caught her wrist in his left hand, bringing his right into the crook of her elbow as he spun her around to force her back against his chest.

She tried to fight his hold, but she was quickly put into a headlock. He felt her right arm drop, a smile spread across his face, knowing she was going to top and end the fight.

Well, that’s what he expected.

She put her hand into a fist, but jutted her pointer finger at the first knuckle, creating a fleshy nub. She drove it into his side - the same way she escaped from Ja’s grip earlier that week. His nervous system was sent into overdrive, momentarily stunning him.

Taking advantage of the situation, Jiniraa spun in his laxed grip. Her right foot hooked around his own and pulled, sending him to the ground. Within two seconds, the Colonel was flat on the mat as Jiniraa straddled his waist. She brought a hand to his throat, positioning it as if she held a knife, demonstrating how she would slit his throat.

Stunned, the Recoms stood in silence around the mat, glancing at each other. Lyle was the most shocked of all. It took him over two years before he successfully took him down. Ja felt a little better knowing Jiniraa took the Colonel down as well.

Jiniraa leaned down, her hair completely falling around the pair, blocking everyone from their faces. Her lips barely skimmed his ear before she whispered, “I win.”

There was something about the adrenaline she got from getting MIles on his back. It took over her body. The words left her throat before the thought had formed. She would never have said that on a normal day. The feeling was short-lived as the excitement faded away, bringing her back to reality as embarrassment washed over her. Blood flushed her chest, cheeks, and the tips of her ears.

She sat back on her haunches, making direct contact with the Colonel’s waist before standing up, tail swishing as she walked to Spider. Miles pushed himself on his elbow, watching as she grabbed the regulator to take a breath. He was stunned, truly. Only one word rattled in his head: beautiful.

●●●

Over the next four days, the schedule was the same. Wake up. Eat breakfast. As in be forced to down nutrient paste; Jiniraa almost passed on day two from the lack of food in her system, the Colonel scolded her for twenty minutes. Morning workout then break for a mid-day meal. Disgusting, once again. Afternoon training sessions typically consisted of sparring, the obstacle course, and running. Another break for dinner. Then return once more for evening training, packed full of timed trials on the obstacle course or target practice for the Recoms.

Once and a while, Miles would leave Lyle in charge of the third session. He’d sit with Jiniraa and Spider, trying to learn the Na’vi language from them. Jininraa was much more patient than the angsty teenager. Afterall, she had years of teaching experience under her belt, but he was her worst student his far. At the end of the day, everyone would take a shower and return to their lodging. Only to do it all over again the next morning.

Spider was unable to participate in most activities mostly due to his size. Everything in the training complex was Na’vi sized. When the Recoms were off doing weapons training, Jiniraa and Spider would mess around on the obstacle course. It wasn’t the forest, but it was as close as they’d get for the time being. Miles let them participate in the other activities to an extent, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to give a knife to either of them. He was well aware they already knew how to use those.

On the first day of actual training, Miles thought about yelling at the pair for messing around on the obstacle course. They were locked in the training complex anyway, it’s not like they could go anywhere so he didn’t say anything. As long as it kept them out of his hair he didn’t care too much.

The training was grueling, but it was definitely worth it. Within a few days, she could feel and see a difference in her body. She was moving quicker. Hitting harder. More confident in her instincts. After the Miles-Jiniraa sparring incident, the Colonel would hover whenever Jiniraa did something he deemed dangerous. By the third day, he was confident enough in her skills that she wouldn’t completely break.

Each time she was praised or complemented on her improvement, her confidence grew, but it was a double-edged sword. She felt guilty for the improvements and skills she was developing. Over the course of four days, she’d made more progress than weeks with Jake.

She didn’t realize it at the time, but it was because Jake was too easy on her. From the start, he had his doubts about Jiniraa’s capabilities, knowing the physical limitations her body held.

As for Miles, he believed the team was only as strong as its weakest member. She and Spider had unofficially been incorporated into the team, therefore they needed to be able to fend for themselves if need be. Their weaknesses couldn’t weigh down the team. Jeopardize the lives of the other Recoms. Or worse, jeopardize the mission at hand. Therefore, the Recoms worked together tirelessly to strengthen the two newest members.

Each day, Spider and Jiniraa were escorted to and from their holding cells, but the Recoms gradually eased up around them. On the first day, Mansk had a death grip on Jiniraa’s upper arm. By the fifth, he allowed her to walk next to him, only grabbing her arm when they passed personnel.

There was no time to actually recover at night. By the time Mansk returned Jiniraa to her holding cell at the end of the day, she would basically collapse on the floor utterly exhausted. Her muscles screamed for rest. Her head pounded, begging to be put in an unconscious state for just a few hours.

Even still, she wouldn’t give into her body’s desires. There was something about sleeping alone that just didn’t sit right. Back at High Camp, she slept with the other unmated woman around her age. They didn’t sleep in piles like the families, but they were close enough to watch out for each other. Keeping an eye out for danger. In this cell? She was all alone. There was no one to watch out for her.

The bags under her eyes grew darker each day. Miles noticed and by day three he checked the security footage of her room. He watched as she would succumb to exhaustion and fall asleep for twenty minutes before bolting awake. The process would repeat itself until Mansk returned in the morning. She’d get less than an hour each night. Miles bit the inside of his cheek, he contemplated putting a sedative in her dinner so she’d get adequate rest.

The fourth day was the worst. Miles hadn’t shared with the group how long this series of brutal days was going to continue. In fact, he didn’t know himself. The General hadn’t shared the long-term plans for Deja Blue, a fact that deeply unnerved Miles.

When he was at Hell’s Gate, he was at the top of the food chain. Capable of making the rules and his own decisions as he pleased. Now? He was someone’s bitch. A fact the General made sure to remind him of on numerous occasions.

Jiniraa practically crawled off the mat after the second session of the day, allowing herself to roll onto her back and lay against the cool metal floor. For once, she was grateful for the metal structure around her. Spider laughed at his friend, laying on the floor next to her as they shared their inside jokes about the Recoms or told stories about home.

“Hey ‘Niraa, remember that one time Lo’ak dared Neteyam to-” Spider began, but was cut off as the training complex door slid open.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, watching as the General walked into the room in her skel suit. The Recoms snapped to attention, pulling their feet together and clenching their fists at their sides. Jiniraa and Spider remained on the floor, much to Miles displeasure. The last time they saw the General they were being interrogated. Jiniraa laid her hand across Spider’s, rubbing her thumb across his knuckles in comfort.

“General Ardmore.” The Colonel greeted. A hand flew to his brow, saluting the woman. He was all business now.

“At ease,” the Recoms followed her instructions, but did not return to their training. They strained their ears to overhear the conversation. They were anxious to get back into the field, so they were hoping for deployment orders. “Colonel, a word.”

Jiniraa watched as Miles and the General walked away from the group, getting out of ear shot.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Spider whispered to Jiniraa. She only shrugged, too focused trying to read lips from across the room. It was impossible to make anything out, but Miles’ body language was easier to read.

His ears and tail were incredibly indicative of his current state. It took Na’vi children years to be able to suppress the instinctual movements. Parents always used a quick flip of the tail or downturn of the ears to catch their children’s mischief. As for Miles, he’d only had his Recom body for a few months now.

Based on his tail alone, she assumed he wasn’t happy with whatever news he was receiving.

●●●

“Do I have to wear this?” Jiniraa pulled at the comm around her throat.

“Yes. Stop tugging it. You’re gonna break it,” Miles spoke dismissively.

“Well, that’s poor quality,” she muttered under her breath. MIles definitely heard her, but refused to acknowledge the comment.

“We need to test it.” Miles snipped back. He pressed two fingers to his own comm, “test. Test one, test two. Jiniraa to Colonel.”

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t use the comm, “yes, I can hear you.”

“Use the comm,” Miles clarified.

“I can hear you,” the earpiece felt strange in her ear. He swatted her hand away when she went to adjust it.

After five days of training - catching the detainees up to speed - the General authorized the Recoms to go back into the field. Everyone was circling around, getting their gear ready. To the former Marines, they found solace in the routine of checking, organizing, and packing gear. They were ready to bounce off the walls after being cooped up for so long.

Lyle was the most through when checking his gear. He was the most playful of the group, but the most serious when it came to equipment. The last thing he wanted was a break of malfunction in the field - especially because it would put another unit member in danger.

Jiniraa only heard Mansk speak a handful of times, even though he escorted her to and from her holding cell each day. His voice was deep, rough from its infrequent use. She watched the man mutter under his breath as he went through his mental checklist. Double and triple checking his supplies.

Zdinarsk, Ja, and Prager were holding their own conversation, sharing weapon stripping supplies. Jokes were littered in here and there, but they maintained focus.

Miles circled around the team, making comments to each individual, checking on their status. The care he felt for his unit was unmatched. Yes, the mission was important, but without the unit it would be impossible to ever complete a mission.

The team was a family, always looking out for one another.

Spider had been quiet the entire day, a discomforting anxiety deeply settled in his stomach. For years, he’d been aware of his biological weakness. He didn’t fit into any group - human or Na’vi. He wanted to live amongst the Omaticaya, admiring their strength, community, and way of life. A connection to everything around them.

He sought to distance himself from the humans, hating the actions of his father. Now, some weird Avatar clone stood in front of him. It wasn’t technically his father, but he had the memories of his father. Miles didn’t know how to interact with the teenager, so they would awkwardly sit with each other.

More than anything, Spider wanted to be accepted into the Sully family. The children loved Spider as their brother, but they walked on eggshells around the human. Before Kiri, there was Jiniraa. She was the first one who treated him like an actual person. She was stuck in a weird position - never fully accepted as a member of the Omaticaya because of her unknown birth and fifth finger.

Spider watched as Jiniraa approached the Colonel. Soft feet silently maneuvering around the gear scattered around the ground. He was squatting on the ground, conversing with Lyle.

“Do you have my waist bag?” She asked, putting her hands behind her back as she rocked on her feet.

“Do I have your what?” Miles asked, not really paying attention to her.

“My waist bag. I had it in the forest. When I woke up - after I was forcibly kidnapped, might I add - it was gone. Do you have it?” She asked as Miles looked up at her. While her confidence had grown exponentially these past few days, she still couldn’t hold eye contact for more than a few seconds.

He didn’t say anything, only standing up and turning his back to her. She tilted her head, watching as he rummaged through a large green backpack.

“This thing?” he held up a small brown bag, the entire thing fit in his palm. He turned back to her, watching as her shoulders dropped and sadness spread across her face. She slowly walked towards him, taking the bag in her own hands.

The woven fabric shifted under her fingers. Intricate ornamentation and colorful feathers made the plain bag beautiful. Her fingers ran over the makeshift belt, pausing at the serrated edges.

“You cut it?” She spoke softly, voice wavering as her throat tightened. She was almost too quiet to hear. Her tail stilled completely as her ears slowly flattened.

“What?” Miles asked her to repeat.

“You cut it.” She looked up at him. This time her voice wasn’t just sad. It transitioned to anger. Sullen, teary eyes met his own. The exchange caught the attention of the entire room. Multiple sets of eyes watched the exchange. Her hands ghosted the edge once more.

“You cut it instead of untying it? Do you have no care? Do you have no remorse? You bastard!” She yelled in Na’vi, slamming both hands against the Colonel’s chest. She threw her entire weight at him, enough to throw him off balance.

He didn’t know enough Na’vi to know what she was saying as she continued attacking his chest.

Spider ran up, but Miles extended a hand out, “kid, stay there.”

Lyle came up behind Jiniraa, pulling her off the Colonel as she kept throwing limbs forward. Legs flailing. Arms swimming. Teeth bared. It was enough to knock his blue sunglasses off his head, landing near the Colonel’s boots.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Lyle tightened his arms around her torso, securing her arms to her side. She continued to thrash in Lyle’s grasp, he tightened around her as he lowered them to the ground. She yielded, completely falling limp against Lyle utterly exhausted.

The rest of the team was on edge, standing a few yards away. Gear abandoned on the ground. The Corporal looked at the Colonel, eyes looking for any sort of explanation.

Jiniraa knew it was Lyle holding her, but it didn’t matter. She needed any sort of comfort. She tucked her head into his neck as she started sobbing, tears soaking his cut off.

The Colonel turned to Spider, whose mouth was pulled into a tight line and fists balled at his side.

“Kid, what do you know?” Miles asked tightly. Spider’s eyes narrowed, but he kept quiet.

“Tsu’tey,” Miles' head snapped down to Jiniraa’s crumpled form. She spoke through tears, only calming down enough to say one word as a new wave of tears washed over her. Miles tilted his head, eyes softening at her broken form. She clutched the bag to her chest, leaning deeper against Lyle, “it was the last thing Tsu’tey gave to me.”

Next: Eight - The Silent Treatment

●●●

please give me feedback on this chapter!!

taglist - if you'd like to be added, let me know!

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

@oceandeepthirst2

@bolggerist

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opinated-user · 5 months

Note

So apparently, in addition to being extremely abusive and toxic, LO and her rabid stans are also fucking illiterate. As she/they are now claiming that y’all are saying that LOVEBOMBING is the reason that her talking about Mikaila like a dog is a bad thing. Rather than, you know, the infantilization and extreme condescension being what ACTUALLY made that a bad thing!

if the questions marks weren't enough, picture my face constantly going like this while reading this... whatever this is:

i have no idea what is happening here. i literally just said that the way LO worded her post sounded like she was talking about a dog rather than a fully grown adult. in fact, just about in general i don't believe that LO respect MO as a person or as a partner. she can talk about giving her affections and gifts all day, that doesn't mean that she truly sees her as a real human being with their own needs that deserve respect and understanding. since we're talking about "quality time together". LO, you lied to your wife for half a year at least about going through chemotherapy and getting a cancer diagnosis. we both know you're lying about that, but MO supposedly believes that you just decided to hide that information from her for that long because you didn't want to ruin your "wife time" together by having MO react to those news like any human being would. you basically rob her of even the option of reacting at all because you couldn't trust her to being mature about it, despite being a full grown adult. again, we both know that you were fine, but going by your own narrative you basically told your adult wife that you don't trust her to manage her own emotions, and you prefer to openly lie to her, to her face, than to have your fun with her ruined. you not only made it clear that you don't respect her, you won't ever consider her above your own whims. i don't care that MO will say that she's fine with being treated like that or doesn't mind or "understand" why you had to lie to her face, before any of you tries that. that's not a "little bit selfish" like you claimed, that's sick regardless. that's disgusting behavior to have in what is supposed to be a real marriage. that's where the "treating your wife like something lesser" claim comes from and it's reinforced through posts like that one. also, you did groom ginger. nobody here talked about MO but nice try at deflection. ginger was a minor when you let her practically offer herself to you in the form of open flirting and accepting of lewd naked art from her. she was 15 while you were 23 and then you dated her the moment her age wasn't an obstacle. just like a groomer would. i'll keep repeating that and keep shoving my evidence everytime chance you give me, LO. continue to give me more excuses and i'll make sure nobody forgets about those posts.

#lily orchard #lily and mikaila orchard

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thekingofwinterblog · 6 months

Text

Zoro VS Mihawk - Manga/Anime

So while comparing the fight between Zoro vs Mihawk across the two main mediums, I noticed some interesting ways the two differed to tell the same story, but with more emphasis on different beats to tell two somewhat different versions of the same tale, and frankly, i think the Anime version took what was already great, and for the most part improved upon it.

Starting off with the beginning of the fight, Zoro in the manga is much more cautious, and has internal doubts, noting he genuinely didnt think he would meet Mihawk at this early point, to which his oppenent rather unsubtly tells him that he's nowhere near the level of power or experience to fight him.

Zoro is guarded, keeps his swords at the ready, expecting this fight to start at any point.

meanwhile Anime Zoro is more confident, more self assured, and despite the fight of his life being in sight, he's more at ease.

He approaches this as just another duel, not the potential end of his journey one way or another.

What happens next thus has two completely different connotations, despite basically being the same point in both. The point being that Zoro is about to learn just how much farther the real world is ahead of him.

In both versions, when Mihawk mocks him by deciding on merely using his knife, Zoro gets pissed and charges in, but there signifigant differences between each version.

In the Manga, Zoro's self confidence at seeing the sheer cliff that is the difference between him and Mihawk, begins to crumble immediatly.

Rather than remain calm, or stoic, his self assuredness crumbles as he futily tries to fall back on his prefered, offensive style of brute forcing his way through problems through power and speed.

meanwhile, this is also the turning point for zoro's confidence in the anime, but it's a much more slow burn. Zoro's belief in himself, his own strength and resolutions, doesnt immediatly begin to crumble. instead its put under a searing hot flame as pressure is applied.

being more confident, he in turn has much further to fall, and thats what the animated version puts all its emphasis on.

The same dance begins, but unlike the manga, Mihawk does not end it almost immediatly after a short clash. He instead plays defensively, letting Zoro throw everything he has at him, and very easily dodging and deflecting every blow.

It's a much more slow burn, as Zoro's will begins to slowly come to the realization that his body cant keep up with it.

Then, after Zoro has one, single, brief moment where his concentration breaks, as he thinks back to Kuina, Mihawk immediatly notices, dodges out of the way rather than another parry, and punishes Zoro HARD with a neck chop that seemingly almost breaks his neck.

Zoro then has a near death flashback to Kuina doing this exact thing, capitalizing on his own moment of weakness to deliver what could have been a decisive blow, only to let him live by showing delibertate, and humiliating mercy.

This is for all intents and purposes a repeat of that Duel so long ago for Zoro, matching himself with a vastly superior foe... And with that foe and rival now gone forever, the only foe remaining who is worthy of filling that hole, is Mihawk.

He flashes back to the promise he made with her, and her subsequent stupid, pointless death that robbed him of his friend, and the one, true goal he had in life. The foe he could never defeat despite all his efforts.

he then stumbles back to his feet, and staggers forward, delivering a basic, sloppy cut that Mihawk lazily dodges.

the camera becomes shaky, the backgrounds become wobbly, and you really feel just how much that blow shook him to his core.

and when hsi cut fails, he collapses sideways and unto his back, his body refusing to listen to his will as he just lies there, panting as Mihawk coldly looks down on him.

it is here, as the only thing Zoro can do, is glare back at him, that Mihawk asks what Zoro's motivations are, while also making a point out of calling him a weakling.

its also a much more dismissive tone than his manga counterpart.

He just asks, no cruelty, or spite or anything, just matter of factly asking the weakling ahead of him why he seeks the kind of power Mihawk has.

By contrast, Manga Mihawk very deliberatly insults Zoro's abilities, as rather than just ask the question, puts a lot of emphasis on the label of Weak.

despite arguably being beaten even worse in the anime, The animated counterpart does not at this point have the disdain that Manga Mihawk has for his Zoro. why? Because the animated Zoro does not buckle. He came into this duel with his head held high, and despite being utterly trounced, he has shown no hesitation or wavering in his convictions. The Manga version has, and so Mihawk has nothing but disdain for him.

Anime Mihawk might not respect Zoro, but he doesnt despise him either.

Which in turn leads into the next scene, the most important one in this entire fight. The moment Zoro is stabbed.

It is also here that the anime takes what has so far been a much more dynamic fight than the manga, and builds upon it to turn this into a work of Art.

It slows down, and not in the terrible way later One Piece does where what should be over in a flash is stretched out across minutes, with characters barely moving.

No it slows down along with the beatings of a heart.

Zoro's heart.

the scenery around as it slows down begins to fade to white and black as the world around is reduced to two things as the heart begins to beat faster and faster.

the anime visually, and audible tells us withouth any need for drawn out exposition, that Zoro in the Anime has come to understand what is about to happen.

This is it.

His instincts tell him that it's do or die, because the next attack will be the one that truly decides the match.

and then, as he prepares his attack, and the world fades back into view, Zoro once more makes the mistake of leaving himself wide open as he readies what he thinks will be his finishing move.

It happens again.

Rather keeping his head in the game, Zoro instead thinks back to another person who matters to him, who he draws strenght from. His captain, Monkey D. Luffy, the man who believes fully in his strength and that he does in fact got this.

And just like the previous time Zoro let his focus dip, Mihawk pounces, nailing Zoro with a basic, forward thrust with the dagger that Zoro so dismissed.

His power attack defeated by a simple basic move, that any fencer would know well.

Meanwhile, in the manga, while the same thing does happen, with the same flashback, there is no greater thematic thread that ties the entire fight before this, to this moment speciffically.

While there is the fact that he defeats zoro very deliberatly with a basic fencing thrust, there is nothing here that elevates him as a swordsman above zoro the way the anime did it. He was simply faster and stronger than him.

Zoro did not make any obvious mistakes here, he just wasnt able to keep up, whereas in the anime Zoro repeated the exact same misstep that almost cost him his head a few moments earlier.

And of course, there is nothing to suggest zoro realised that this moment would be the decisive one, the way the anime handled it.

What follows though, is also the only part of this fight where the original manga is just better.

When Zoro and Mihawk have their debate about why zoro isnt stepping back rather than have the knife just a few inches away from his heart, The anime for whatever reason decides to have the entire thing be very fast paced, whereas in the manga, you get the sense the exchange took a while.

Despite this the way the anime handles it, does tie into the differences between each version of Mihawk.

this is after all the moment that both zoro's earns their respective rivals respect, though for slighty different reasons.

In the anime version, Mihawks brusque tone and refusal to not just ask things with a casual, non drawn out manner does add to the way that he is suprised, but not baffled by the way that Zoro does not in any way back down from possible death in the face of his own ambition.

Anime Zoro wins Mihawk's respect by the fact that even now, even after facing death so close, his will, the one thing that never wavered in this entire fight did not give out, even at the prospect of dying.

Meanwhile, the way Manga Mihawk's dialogue comes across as more drawn out, makes him come across as far more baffled and genuinely surprised by the fact that at his seeming end, Zoro did not break as he was sure he would.

And by that, he proves to him that he wasnt bluster. Zoro, despite being so much weaker is the real deal in terms of conviction and will.

And so, as Mihawk asks for his name and draws the strongest sword in the world, what follows has a very different tone across mediums, both for Zoro and Mihawk.

both of them understands that this will be the last clash, but Anime Zoro understands it in the context that there was a decisive clash before this, and he failed then. There will not be a third one.

This is it.

and of course in both anime and manga, the following clash is decisive, and other than drawing more attention on the broken swords in the manga, both mediums handles zoro's reaction the same. He lost, and he has accepted his defeat.

No where they are different is Mihawk.

In the Manga, Mihawk is ready with another clash, fully expecting Zoro to whip around and finish the fight, while in the anime, the process of Zoro sheating his blade, then dramatically turning around, and leaving himself wide open as a sign of accepting an honorable defeat, is much more drawn out.

While he has his blade out, he obviously is not expecting this fight to continue, and is just waiting to see how zoro handles it.

by contrast, Manga Mihawk is far, far more genuine surprised by Zoro's choice of accepting defeat, and so his ultimate decision to spare him come across much more of a sudden impulse, while the Animated Mihawk's decision seems much more planned, that he decided on it after pulling out the knife from Zoro's knife instead.

In any case, this masterful adaption of one, single fight, where it took what was already there to create a true piece of art is a far, far cry the abyssmal way modern One Piece handles its fights.

#one piece #dracule mihawk #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #anime #manga #adaption #meta #duel

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aita-blorbos · 8 months

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AITA for devoting my life to the downfall of a ten-year-old boy?

I beg of you, hear me out.

I (37M) am an aficionado of the arts and have been my whole life. After all, my mother is a knighted actress and an esteemed member of the Screen Actors Guild. My younger brother (34M) has always been more interested in the comic side of acting. Through a series of unforseen circumstances, I ended up with his dream job, working as a sideshow circus performer on a children's entertainment program. Not what I went to Yale for, but such is life.

We became wildly successful (I'd like to think because of my additions to the show) and I grew to love performing for children. Plus, this satisfied my love for the arts. However, the host of the show is a slovenly, heartless, self-aggrandizing cokehead that treated me as an inferior. I tolerated the torment for several years, but eventually I couldn't take it. I robbed a local mart, framed him for the crime, and took the show for my own. And I did a damn good job of running it.

Barely a week goes by, and these three siblings (8F, <1F, 10M) come into my office, performing their own amateur sleuthing about the arrest. To placate them, I give them free tickets to come see the next show. One segment I hosted explored pre-adolescent turmoil, where I spoke heart-to-heart with the children who attended my show. I invited the older boy, who we'll call B for anonymity's sake, as he seemed troubled. He was a huge fan of the previous host. For a moment, we discussed his issues with the trial, which I deflected expertly. However, I made a foolish mistake in my wording, and he realized I commited the crime and framed the host. He exposed me on live television and had me sent to prison. From that day onward, I swore to make his life a living hell.

Over the course of several years, my frustrations turned into attempts to negatively impact his life. Yet each time my endeavors were foiled! Very specifically by him! And each time resulting in my imprisonment. My encounters with B began to spiral and spiral, from causing inconvenience and devolving into attempted murder.

I realized how far it has fallen, and I decided to move to Salsiccia, Italy. I met my beautiful wife (35F) and we had a son (3M). Yet, even a whole country away, he still found me. He destroyed my reputation in the town and forced me to flee. He is a conniving, devilish young boy. Most intelligent, beyond what anyone is willing to admit. At this point, fate itself is driving me to rid this world of B. Yet, I can not help but feel sympathy, and even some feeling of respect for him. Some part of me who wished to not harm him, but nurture him. Working with children is something I do enjoy, as I have mentioned. Yet every time I am proven wrong. In the end my loathing hatred for him wins out in the end, as I only need remind myself that my descent into the criminal life can all be traced back to him exposing my (justifiable) crime to the world.

So, with all this being said and done. AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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sednonamoris · 8 months

Text

blood of the covenant

Pairing: John Marston x gn!reader

Summary: Arthur and Abigail make a promise. You and John have a chance to find out what that means for you, if you’re brave enough.

Warnings: Christian religious imagery/blasphemy, strong language, canon-typical substance use and abuse, mild fluff

Word count: 2,432

A/N: Chapter 20, and what a milestone she is!! I hope you all enjoy this one as much as me - it was an absolute joy to write ��

Series masterlist • AO3

—

The threat of Pinkertons so close to camp has everyone on edge, especially since the law found you as quickly as it did in Scarlett Meadows. Everyone but Dutch, it seems. You and Arthur both agree that you should’ve moved camp by now, but you haven’t, and life must go on, so the robbing and killing has hardly stopped on that account.

Camp life is business as usual.

Ms. Grimshaw watches over all, holding the girls to a punishing standard. Dutch schemes. Hosea worries. The boys terrorize Valentine’s saloons and homesteads and lonely dirt roads. Pearson takes every opportunity to talk about his Navy days over a daily pot of stew filled with game that Charles brings in. Reverend Swanson oscillates between fits of passion and pain and morphine melancholy. Uncle can be found propped up napping anywhere and everywhere. Sometimes you stick a boot in his ribs as you pass just to make sure he’s still alive.

John, for his part, is consumed entirely by his sheep rustling scheme. He splits his days between Emerald Ranch and Valentine’s stockyards, which is probably for the best because Arthur and Abigail haven’t been shy about playing happy family with Jack. It’s like the tentative truce forged after the train job between brothers is all Arthur needed to open the cracked shell of his heart fully. The way he looks at Abigail - the way she looks at him - tugs at heartstrings you’d thought long-severed. Mrs. Adler watches them from the edge of camp with a wistful look in her burnt-barn eyes, mouth caught between a smile and a snarl. Even Kieran stutters out a comment about how sweet they seem when he’s sure Arthur won’t hear.

Trusting in how peaceful— how happy things have been is hard, but you can’t say you miss the tension and misery from before. It’s… nice. It feels nice.

—

You’re more surprised than you should be when Arthur and Abigail come up to you, eyes bright and cheeks flushed and looking so strikingly young, to tell you they’re getting married. In town. Today.

“We just need a witness,” Arthur says. The asking is implied.

“Can’t you take Mary-Beth? She loves this sort of thing,” you try to deflect, caught between joy and discomfort. “I doubt there’s a church they’d let me in, even.”

It’s not that you aren’t happy for them - you’re thrilled. But to actually go with them and sign documents and make things official in the eyes of the law and the God you’re on such bad terms with? It feels like a lot. It feels a little like a betrayal, still. Your eyes search for some kind of comfort in John’s figure across camp, but it’s in vain. If anything, it reminds you how precarious this joy is. How a selfish part of you wishes to lay claim to more of it.

“We want it to be you,” Abigail smiles.

You shouldn’t.

But her eyes are pleading. You start to wilt under the happiness and hope that shines through them like the sun. “Please, Ghost.”

You’re not sure how anyone’s ever said no to her, the way she blinks up through her lashes and grasps your hand in hers and smiles so sweet. And Arthur is no better. It’s hard to remember a time he’s been so happy. So hopeful. The broadness of his frame has taken on a boyish lightness that wasn’t there even when he was a boy.

Shit.

“Fine,” you finally relent. “I guess I know the Reverend in town.”

The relief and excitement on their faces is almost worth the knot of nerves in your stomach.

—

“My friend!” Reverend Hampton calls out when he spies your approach.

You make to shake his hand but he pulls you in for a hug instead. You return it awkwardly and flash a bashful grin. “Reverend, these are my good friends, Arthur and Abigail. They’d… Well, they’d like to be married today. Can you help us?”

His smile, broad and warm and maybe even a little smug, is all the answer you need.

While he procures the necessary documents the three of you fidget near the altar in an otherwise empty church. Muted rays of midday sun fight their way past cloud cover to reflect greens and reds and golds through stained glass. It paints the French blue of Abigail’s finest dress mosaic, like she’s some kind of Mother Mary that walked right out of a window pane. She alternates between clutching the bouquet of wildflowers that Tilly helped Jack pick to her chest and beaming up at Arthur. He stands stiffly opposite her in a suit that doesn’t quite fit, itching at the collar. His returning smiles are a crooked and genuine show of teeth, like he still can’t believe he made it this far. Like his body has a hard time accommodating happiness this size. He’s spent so long in self-inflicted loneliness.

Maybe you have, too.

All four of you cry and laugh in equal measure when the vows are exchanged. Forever recited back in different shades of blue. Arthur places the ring on Abigail’s finger so delicately it makes your heart ache. He kisses her just as tender, just as careful. You look away and wipe at your tears. The Reverend pronounces them man and wife. Arthur prints his name on the marriage certificate afterwards in careful, elegant script. You both smile encouragingly when Abigail signs her X on the line beside it.

Yours fits just off to the side. You have to stop yourself from signing Ghost.

“You know,” Arthur says to the Reverend as you all turn to leave, “we know a Reverend. He ain’t nothin’ like you.”

Reverend Hampton’s expression manages to be both serene and amused. “Every Shepherd has his flock. I am honored to have been trusted with his today.”

You snort. “Figures you’d say somethin’ like that.”

Arthur and Abigail go on ahead to the wagon hand in hand. It’s impossible to miss, decked out as it is in the tinsel and bells Mary-Beth scrounged up to make it appropriately romantic. You linger a moment longer at the chapel’s threshold with the Reverend.

“Thank you for this,” you say. Your eyes trace the joy on your dear friends’ faces. “Feels like I’m always in your debt.”

“Nonsense, my child. I am in yours. You have brought life and love here - that’s all an old man could wish for. But please,” he says, and turns to squeeze your hands in his, “do not squander this chance at your own happiness.”

You tuck your chin and stare at your boots while embarrassment burns from your chest to your cheeks. “I’ll try.”

He smiles. “That’s all we can ever do in this life. Go in peace.”

—

You drive the wagon home to the sound of hoofbeats and tinkling bells and laughter and love. It starts raining along the way, light and clean. Lances of sunlight beam through the clouds.

—

“Mr. Morgan,” Dutch greets, a shine in his dark eyes. “Mrs. Morgan. We sure are glad to have you back.”

Jack runs up past everyone with shrieking laughter. “You’re so pretty, Momma!”

And she is. A vision in blue, swept up in Arthur’s embrace. He carries her down from the wagon just to hear her laugh.

The girls coo over the ring on her finger while the boys shake Arthur by the shoulder with grins wide enough to swallow him whole. Choruses of that ring is so pretty and you finally grew some balls and I bet the church was nice inside and can’t believe you squeezed into that suit and won’t you spin for us form that familiar symphony of family you’ve come to count on all these years.

John lingers on the periphery of it all, but he makes a point of stepping forward and shaking Arthur’s hand before the dancing starts. He reaches for Abigail’s hands and murmurs something close to congratulations.

“Thank you, John,” Abigail says through shining tears. A little sad. A little overjoyed. A little relieved, even.

Arthur can’t find the right words, but his eyes say it all for him.

“Sure,” John grimaces a smile, “sure. You two… be well. Really.”

They whisk away to the sound of music crackling from Dutch’s gramophone, leaving him beside you with a half-broke heart. John shakes his head at the silent question posed by the tilt of your head, so you settle on the edge of the celebration to watch them whirl in ¾ time. They’re given time enough for a few twirls and dips all their own before the others start to join in.

The rain hasn’t let up. But sometimes it’s good to dance in the rain, and it’s not so damp yet that you can’t light a cigarette. You inhale deep and sigh out smoke before passing it to John without a word. He always ends up bumming off you anyway.

“Was it nice?” he asks through smoke-filled lungs. His gaze never strays from the happy couple.

“Yeah,” you say, then huff half of a laugh. “Made me cry.”

He eyes you without turning away from the dancing. “Really?”

“Really. That goddamn Reverend always gets me… weepy and shit.”

“Easy with the blasphemy, there.” A smile ghosts across his face.

“Or what? I’ll be struck down by lightning?” you scoff. “Be doin’ me a favor. Then I won’t have to listen to you ask about things you don’t wanna know.”

“Shut up,” he says, but he’s smiling now. It’s one of the real ones - one of the rare ones - that goes a little lopsided and softens the sharp flint of his eyes. You’re unreasonably proud of yourself for it.

He turns to face you, now, hesitant. Something about the way he looks at you makes you shift in place. “What?”

“Do you…” he starts awkwardly, clears his throat. Holds out a hand. “Will you dance with me?”

You look at his hand, then at him. It’s hard to hide your smile, so you give up trying. “Long as you don’t step on my feet.”

“Can’t promise that,” he laughs an awkward little laugh as he takes your hand and leads you into the fray.

The song playing now isn’t quite as upbeat, so the tempo is a little easier on his two left feet. You let him lead through the simpler steps and take charge when he falters through the more difficult sequences. It’s a perfect give and take. He even manages not to squash your toes.

“I know this ain’t an easy thing,” you say lowly, so only he can hear you over the music. “Can I ask how you’re feeling now?”

He sighs. “I feel… I don’t know. Fine, I guess. I reckon Abigail was right about—” he cuts himself off there and swallows. His cheeks stain red past the rain. He can’t look you in the eye.

“Right about what?”

“Nothin’. Me and her not bein’ right.”

The song ends, so he spins you out one last time and then you face one another with a bow before melding back into the edge of things. He grabs a beer for each of you from a nearby crate. There’s more there, something you know you’re missing, but you don’t press. Feels like you never do. Instead you clink your bottle to his drink to new beginnings. To things working out the way they’re meant to.

—

The rain clears up just before the sun sets and paints the sky in dewey blues and golds past the few lavender clouds that remain. Silk dresses and wedding bands. Songbird wings and sunshine. Happiness. Hope.

—

Arthur is busy being newly married and tying up loose ends for Strauss, so when the time comes just a few days later John brings you in on his sheep scheme instead. It’s a simple enough thing to scare off the ranchers and take over their wooly charges. You’ve done a bit of farm work here and there, and Moonshine has a real knack for it. Old Boy is less interested in the sheep, but John does a decent job for a man without any real experience.

You run them into Valentine with little trouble.

Trouble comes instead from the foreman at the stockyard who eyes the both of you, scarred and mean, with suspicion. You guess you can’t blame him.

“Fine sheep,” John says. He’s awful proud of himself.

The man shrugs. “They’re alright.”

“You got much better?” you say, but you already know where this is headed.

“I got plenty with less… ambiguity about their provenance.” He makes a point of eyeing your beat up clothes and unconcealed weapons.

“Those are real fancy words, mister. Not sure I take your meaning.”

He doesn’t smile. “I’ll make it simple, then. You give me twenty-five percent kick back and I don’t say nothin’ to nobody.”

“The fuck do you think I look like?” you snarl, stepping up in his face. A scam is a fine idea, but getting scammed yourself? You don’t take kindly to that.

He doesn’t flinch. “I think you look like a low-down criminal, and I know folk swing for rustlin’ ‘round these parts. Twenty-five percent. I won’t say it again.”

You open your mouth to argue but John grabs your shoulder to pull you back and steps forward in your place. “Fifteen.”

“Twenty.”

They haggle back and forth while you stew in your discontent and glare at the other hands until they finally shake on eighteen. You shake as well with a look that could kill, but don’t say another word until you and John make it back to the horses hitched a little ways away.

“Eighteen? Really?”

“Like you could do better. I mean what were you gonna do? Beat him? Kill him? Then what?”

You scoff, but it’s hard to argue his point. “Fine. I guess it’s better than nothin’.”

“You’re damn right it is. This worked out, relax.” He mounts up. “Dutch wanted me to meet him and Arthur at the saloon. I’ll see you at camp?”

“Sure,” you say. “Try not to get so drunk you can’t find your way back. It’s only noon.”

He laughs. “I’ll try. It’s been that kind of week.”

It sure has.

You ride back at an easy lope on a loose rein, enjoying the day and the lightness in your chest that’s been there since the wedding. A bad deal on good sheep feels like nothing at all compared to that. Nothing at all.

By the time the gunfire sounds, you’re too far away to hear it.

#john marston x reader #rdr x reader #rdr2 x reader #ghost story #ch. 20 #fran writes

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