#for organizational sake

[sporkberries]

Msf as a whole but also kaz specifically are the first victims of the cult leader big boss eventually becomes. The monster he is in mg2.

The majority of the soldiers kaz included are people he kidnapped. People who now hinge on his every word and would die for him. Just because kaz is also his accountant wife doesnt make him any less of a victim or follower of BB. Kaz can call it a partnership all he wants that doesn’t make it the truth, their relationship is not and never has been equal.

Kaz doesnt go against BB because he snaps out of his trance and realized how wrong everything is, how crazy his plans are. He does it because he felt personally betrayed. And that pride is the very reason BB betrayed him in TPP. There is no room for autonomy in his heaven. Its ironic, given the whole point of the bosses dream in the first place.

[rosemaryyuri]

roachstuck

[peachypine]

karayuzu beach date the sillies (with @beejoco's karamatsu!). kara's outfit is based on that official art set of matsu dates.

[nebuladreamz]

Saw the trend on twitter about doing this with irl vs persona. And I do like my Perfect Blue sooooo <33

Bloodless ver and reference under the cut!

[hulloitsdani]

A lovely set of suggestions thank you very much

[romatito]

so someone asked me about the pirate au crew's ages at some point so i figured id make a lil post with those and their full names just bc i havent found a way to like. naturally inject it into the fic without it feeling awkward.... so here lol

Antonio Fernández Carriedo (27)

Lovino Vargas (24)

João Lisboa-Carriedo Ferreira (29)

Abel Janssens (27)

Emma Janssens (25)

Henri Janssens (17)

(and Feli is 20!)

[bagea]

needless to say. i am in love with him,

[fortanuvasyama]

#THEY DID WHAT TO JASON?????#ALSO IF ROSE HAD TO RESUCITATE HIM IT MEANS HE DIED BC OF WHAT BRUCE DID????#omg

@crepus i spotted your tags and had to say something lol

the answer is... maybe??? idk what Jason would have done if he was brought into the fight under different circumstances, but he did choose to work with Joker B of his own free will (and agreed pretty quickly, though that might be more because the [supposed] plan was to kill Joker A) (and also bc Joker B has decided he's not the Joker after all and that he needs to kill Joker A after which I guess Joker B would... die? kill himself? i think? idk man) and he actually set up a distraction with Rose to prevent Bruce from interfering (bc I'd imagine Bruce wouldn't want him to kill Joker A 😒)

(side note: lost my shit laughing here at the entourage of actual bats following the batmobile)

(btw that kid with Rose up there ^ was part of Joker B's group and Jason had the condition that the kid be uninvolved if Joker B wanted Jason's help)

(that's why Rose has the kid with her, so Batman can help the kid)

ANYWAYS so Jason is at the fight because he wants to be/he has a chance to kill a Joker/Joker B gassed him into not being paralyzed by fear, so depending on which motivation you think is right then one could argue that it's Bruce's fault he's involved.

BUT ANWAYS.... the set-up here is: Joker B is driving a train that will (unbeknownst to Jason) crash into Gotham and cause a big boom. It's a trap to lure in Joker A - who wants to kill Joker B because there must only be one Joker, blah blah - and Joker A comes swooping in on a dirigible/blimp (filled with bombs) to blow up the train.

A big fight between them and the henchmen ensues, Jason gets Joker A at gunpoint, and then Joker B reveals the true plan, and Jason gets booted out of the conductor's car.

(btw i'm omitting panels that are unnecessary to my narration, there's more in-between chatter that makes the story flow better)

so Jason decides to go for the blimp and steals Killer Moth's suit-wings-jetpack-thing (no idea what it really is) to get there, and hijacks the blimp. He tries to call for Batgirl (Stephanie atm) and gets Batman instead, and outright tells Bruce that he chose to do this, and also that they need to stop the gas in the train and the bombs in the blimp somehow. But there's no way to do either in a way where the gas won't blow into the city anyway...

And so Jason's solution is...

a big explosion that eats up the gas with the bombs in the blimp.

(genuinely a miracle he's not dead just from that lmao)

And there's an argument to be made that, uh, Jason... drowned. And was dead. For a pretty solid amount of time.

and Rose resuscitates him!

Rose is a miracle-worker apparently lol

A N Y W A Y S the point is, yeah Bruce could be held responsible for part of this if you look at it a certain way. I definitely think Jason's plan of blowing up the ship he was on by crashing into something in order to save people is very reminiscent of a certain other time.....

.....yep.

[ymorii]

thinking about making sonic fankids,, for funsies,,,

[beesgav]

Drew a bunch of characters @ecruteakfreak likes from memory

[asthe-crow-flies]

naturalness/unnaturalness in Lolina: Origins by R L Hughes

i could write a whole essay about this, but its almost finals, so this is what you're getting

[violentlydefending]

i'm just gonna say it. i do not care about the possibility for an aa7 especially if it keeps going in the direction established by 5 & 6. give me another shu takumi spinoff (a la the great ace attorney) or give me a professor layton vs phoenix wright sequel or give me nothing at all.

[floralpowders]

has anyone written any natasha x readers out there?? the search is so crap that i just wind up getting mar//vel and x - x no...

but i would love to see maybe an imagine about natasha surprising the reader with a handmade doll for them

[pumaskulls]

*Borderlands!AUs my own OCs instead of actually finishing up their refs*

[silassinclair]

Let me Take Care of You

Yandere Boxer x Injured Reader

Summary: It’s always been you taking care of Viktor and the other fighters. After all you’re the gym’s doctor! It’s your job. But what happens when it’s the other way around and you’re the one with the injury this time?

CW// Injuries, Blood, Personal Space Invaded

Masterlist Here!!

The gym was packed with fighters training for the upcoming fight this weekend. This weekend Viktor was going to be fighting a German fighter named Iron Klaus; the famous Iron Claw of Berlin. One punch from him and the opponent will be out like a light. So Viktor has been training especially hard in dodging and weaving for the past month.

While everyone was focused on training you decided to clean up a little bit around the clinic. The last doctor who worked here had no organizational skills whatsoever and it peeved you. So why not use the spare time to tidy up a little?

The top cabinet was pretty dusty. The dust was pretty annoying too because the fighters with a dust allergy would always be sneezing whenever they came in. Wetting one of the paper towels you look for something to stand on so you can reach the cabinet. There’s no stools or four legged chairs, only your swivel chair.

“This idea a terrible idea.” You think to yourself. But you have to get rid of that dust for the sake of your patients. So you wheel the chair over and put a foot on it. The wheels immediately feel like they want to slide out from under you. But you ignore it. You stand to your full height with both feet on the chair and begin dusting off the cabinet top.

But suddenly one of the six plastic wheels burst off the chair, throwing you completely off balance and sending you falling to the hard tile floor.

“AH-!” You scream and hit your head on the counter then fall to the floor with a loud thud. Groaning in pain you massage your tail bone. But then something gets in your eye. Something wet.

Tapping your forehead you flinch with a hiss when you accidentally touch an open wound.

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit.” You mutter repeatedly and rush to grab a mirror. Shuffling through the junk drawer of your desk you find a compact mirror and flip it open. And to your horror you see that the top right of your forehead as a long bleeding cut. Luckily it isn’t too deep but without proper care it could scar.

“Great…”

Getting some rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad you spurt some onto the pad. But just as you’re about to dab it onto the cut the door slams open causing you to drop the wet pad.

“Can you knock-?! Viktor?” You calm down when you see it’s just Viktor. If it were Alexi you would have thrown the alcohol bottle at him.

“I need some ice..” His words fall off his tongue and his eyes widen when he finally looks at you. Viktor takes large hurriedly steps towards you immediately.

“What happened kroshechnyy!?” He asks worriedly. “You’re bleeding so much. It may scar your simpatichnyy (pretty) face.”

You roll your eyes. “It looks worse than it feels. It’s alright. I was just about to disinfect before you came barging in. And don’t slam my door open anymore, you’ll break it.”

Viktor just grunts and takes you by the arm and pretty much forces you to sit on the bed. “I will help you.” He says and looks through your cabinets and drawers for supplies. He gets some hydrogen peroxide, cotton balls, gauze, and medical tape.

“You really don’t have to do that, go back to training Viktor. Don’t waste your time with me.” You say earnestly. He needs to spend his time training, not taking care of you. It was your own fault for getting into this mess anyways.

With all the supplies in hand Viktor turns to you with a shake of his head. “Any second spent with you is a second well spent, not wasted. So let me take care of you.”

And he wasn’t asking. He goes to work immediately and dabs some of the hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton ball and dabs it onto your forehead. When you wince in pain he shushes you calmly like a baby. Cooing and reassuring you that everything is going to be okay.

“Shh shh kroshechnyy, it will only hurt a bit.” He whispers and cleans the wound. The bleeding has stopped now.

His eyes are calm and focused as all his attention is on you. Helping you, taking care of you, loving you. It feels so domestic cleaning your wound. It makes him feel like the two of you are lovers. He gently lays a square of thin gauze over the cut and tapes it down with some of the medical tape.

“Sorry if the job is… sloppy. I am not used to attending wounds.” He mutters with disappointment in himself.

But you reassure him with a light smile. “Hey it’s a better job than what I would’ve done with just a compact mirror. I appreciate it, thank you.”

Viktor nods softly, he turns away from your gaze as pink blush dusts his pale cheeks.

You sit still for a moment. The sting of the cut is slowly fading away thanks to Viktor’s first aid. But then you remember why Viktor came into the office in the first place; you retrieve a bag of ice from the mini fridge.

“Here. Thank you again for helping me.” You say and hand him the bag.

Viktor nods with a small grunt and accepts the bag.

“So what’s the ice for?” You ask. “Did you get hurt?”

Viktor nods. “Olēg hit me pretty hard in the ribs. Old bald bastard still packs a mean punch.”

You chuckle. “Well it’s good practice for you against your upcoming match with that German guy. Anyway, you can rest here while you use that ice.”

Viktor smiles slightly. “You’ll let me rest here? Usually you always try to shoot me away kroshechnyy.”

Well he had a point. It annoyed you when Viktor would come in here on the daily and just watch you while you worked. But for the past few weeks he hasn’t visited due to his rigorous training regiment. Deep down you missed his calm presence and his awkward attempts at making small talk. So what if you missed him a little bit? He was the only decent company here. All the other fighters have no manners.

“This time is an exception, think of it as a thank you for patching me up this time.” You say whilst organizing some drawers.

You feel warmth press up from behind and turn your head slightly to the side. Viktor’s gotten up from the bed and came up behind you, pinning you to the desk with a hand on the hardwood on either side. His front is right against your back and you can feel his warm breath on the side of your cheek. He leant his face down lower; his lips just barely graze the shell of your ear.

“Viktor what did I say about personal space-”

“Sorry, I can’t help myself. I just really miss you.” He says with a low hum. His voice is rich and deep like honey, but also dark and dangerous like the night.

Shivers shoot up your spine. What was he trying to pull? “Viktor I said I wanted to take it slow with the whole becoming friends again thing…”

His hand slams down on the desk making you jump with a yelp.

“Well I’m getting impatient.” The growl in his voice makes your blood run cold.

“O-Okay okay j-just calm down for a sec.” You say wobbly. The feeling of his nose on the top of your head makes your train of thought stall. He inhales your scent slowly, reminiscing in the nostalgic smell of your lavender shampoo.

“Just let me hold you close… please. Think of it as your gift to me for patching you up.”

You nod your head in understanding. Viktor is a damaged man. He’s touch starved, affection starved, and had a rough up bringing. If he wanted some semblance of comfort from you then you’ll happily give it. Even if it’s awkward and slightly uncomfortable for yourself. But hey, maybe the uncomfortable feeling will go away soon once you two re-bond overtime.

“It’s alright.” You whisper and pat his back. “I’m here now… Just don’t fuck up again okay? Or I really won’t forgive you ever again.”

He hums lowly. “I’ll never. Never again.”

His arms wrap around you into a warm embrace. And you welcome the embrace. His exterior is cold but his arms are warm. You can’t help but put your arms around him in return.

The two of you bask in a couple minutes of calm silence. But shouts from outside the clinic yelling for Viktor can be heard. Said blonde grumbles in annoyance as he lets go of you, much to his distaste.

“Be more careful next time kroshechnyy. And take care of yourself.” He says while petting your hair. You bag his hand off your head with a grunt.

“Okay okay personal space breaking time is over. Now get out there and train.” You say and push him towards the door.

He rolls his eyes and opens the door. But before leaving he turns quickly to kiss your cheek, then shuts the door immediately and runs off.

“Bastard…” You mutter to yourself.

[ghostboneswrites2]

( prison timeline , fluff ) since im a big cat person, Daryl goes for a run and sees a kitten all shrivelled up in a corner of the store he was looting. The first thing that popped on his mind was reader considering her constant ramblings about how cute they are. He ofcourse couldnt see the vision though. So he took it in for reader's sake and had it cuddle up inside his vest while riding his motorcycle back.

Hello anon sorry for the wait 💕

Scraps

Warnings: none aside from the kitten being in bad condition when Daryl finds it ~ and mentions of dead bodies

Masterlist - Taglist - Daryl Dixon Summer Fic Challenge

As the sun beat down on him, leeching sweat from his tanned skin, Daryl felt annoyed. His clothes were sticking to him and the stupid store he was meant to be looting smelled like rotten bodies, especially in this Georgian summer heat.

Nonetheless, he had a job to do. We all got jobs to do, as Beth would say. So, he tightened his bootstraps and stalked inside, suppressing a gas as he looked around at all the dead bodies that littered the floor. Up and down the aisles, he quickly realized the place had already been taken for everything it had. With hopes of finding something in the office behind the counter, he broke his way inside, only to find dusty surfaces and and old papers scattered about.

He guessed whoever ran the place wasn’t the organizational type. With a sigh he finally decided to check around back for anything of potential use. The dumpster was turned over sideways, old trash bouncing around in the barely noticeable breeze. He crouched down and peeked inside the sideways bin, squinting in the sunlight. He had almost gotten up and walked away when he heard it. A tiny, pathetic little squeak. He focused his eyes, and caught sight of a tiny little black fur ball.

“The hell?” He muttered as two big green eyes appeared against the pitch blackness of fur. He reached his long arm in and gripped the little thing, pulling it out to look it over. It was scrawny, probably barely hanging on. It’s fur was sticky and matted, and it’s tail had some kind of injury that stunk almost as much as the dead bodies inside. “Ya ain’t doin too hot out here, are ya buddy?” He said softly to the dirty little thing.

Daryl was torn. One one hand, he had no time for a fucking cat of all things. On the other hand, he could practically hear your incessant ranting about how much you loved cats, and how badly you wanted one.

“Nah.” He shook his head and set the little thing down, pouring some of his water in an old cup for it to drink. “Y/N won’t know.” He assured himself. How could you? It wasn’t like you were there.

He sighed and waved goodbye to the little kitty, who hadn’t touched the water, only stared at him as it shivered to itself. He went to turn away, but he realized that the cat was shivering in the middle of the summer. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes as he threw his head back in frustration. “God damn it.” He grumbled as he turned back and scooped up the little kitty and stomped back to his bike. “Fuckin’ cat.” He kept complaining to himself, all the while tucking the little kitty inside his vest and starting up his bike.

The trip back to the prison was longer than the ride to the little store. He had to steer with one hand as the little kitty was held snug against his chest by the other.

Back home, you were the first to greet him, as per usual. You thought he may have been hurt at first, as he didn’t typically ride his bike with one hand clutches to his chest. But, when he stood up and pulled a scraggly little kitten from inside his best, you practically screeched with excitement. He couldn’t get a single word in before you snatched the little baby up and looked it over.

“Where did you find this cutie?!” You asked.

“In a dump—“

“What’s its name?”

“Don’t have one—“

“What happened to its tail?”

“Damn it, will ya just listen?” He snapped, tired of you cutting him off. “I found it in a dumpster. Tails infected. Might not survive the night if—“

“Hershel!” You called out, skipping away from him as Rick strolled over to see what the commotion was.

“Was that a cat?” Rick asked with one eyebrow quirked up.

“Shut up.” Daryl glared, throwing one leg over his bone so he could properly go park it.

“What about the general store? It was empty?” Rick pressed on.

“Nothin’ but dead bodies and dying kittens.”

Later, when Daryl had parked and made his way inside, you were crouched over with Hershel examining the kitten, which Carl promptly named Scraps. Daryl caught the tail end of the examination.

“Well, I’ll need some supplies. Gonna need to amputate the tail, first. It’s necrotic. I’ll also need some antibiotics and some kitten formula. It can’t be more than a couple weeks old. It’s a miracle it’s survived this long without its mother.”

Your head snapped over to Daryl immediately, eyes big and watery at the idea that they couldn’t save the baby.

Hershel turned and looked at Daryl with a knowing look. Daryl groaned and shook his head.

“There’s a farmer supply store about a mile south of here. It should have everything we need if we wanna get this cat in good shape.” The old man told him.

“Just write me a damn list.” Daryl sighed as he went to gas up his bike.

@kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy