Introducing: Major Cheeks

The Major is in charge of fanservice here!

(Note: none of this is completely NSFW, but if extreme close ups and swimsuits would give your “Affirmative Action Assholes” nosebleeds, get off this page now. Final warning. Scroll down if you’re ok, and have a hanky for your own nosebleed. Although if this little fanservice gives  you a nosebleed, I don’t recommend you watch Maburaho or Godanner.)

Why did I say Motoko Kusanangi, the main character of Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex was in charge of fanservice? And why would I call her “Major Cheeks?” Well, lets see…

Firstly, her rank is Major.

Secondly, her competition always ends up badly, except for two friends of hers that appear briefly, now and again.

And thirdly there’s the fact that this is how she normally dresses during working hours. Bear in mind, she’s an elite security officer.

“How much for that table dance?”


And this is the same,
without the jacket.

“Like you could afford me, buster!”

Her bad-girl teen years?

“Huh. Ok, girls can’t do that standing up, after all!”

He’s a dead man if she finds him…

“Oh that was smart. ‘No way your pocket can get picked in this outfit!’ I said. Brilliant. Now I just feel so… used.’”


Who the hell needs panty shots?

“Open the box for a surprise!”
(This isn’t the major. This girl and her partner were but momentary competition for the “Alpha bitch of Ghost fanservice.”)


Time to go for a ride! There seem to be scenes like this every few episodes.

“I do hope the boss remembered to buy new batteries this time!”


Wow! She knows what a real uniform is!

“I’m going to kill the boss for making me wear this. And he forgot the batteries again!”


And finally, the clincher; the scene that made me name her Major Cheeks, in two pictures:
No comment seems adequate… but at least she found her pants this time…

…. thank God.

Errr. Ya’ll excuse me for a few minutes, I need to break this $20 for tip money now. . .

…not to mention, I want to attend this party later!

Talk about some hot cyber. . . .

This entry was posted in Random Nonsense. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply