#VERSE: Military Johnny

[maaskuline]

OK SO. i wanted to put together some different verses & AUs that i could potentially use for Johnny here!! :D there's a lot of different possibilities to be had with him, so this list may be changed & updated as time goes on!

also definitely feel free to tell me if you wanna explore any of these with ur muse if any of it catches ur attention!!

STANDARD / CROSSOVER: This is just your regular ol' Johnny Bravo. Nothing out of the ordinary here! He can be just about anywhere in his 20's here. This will be the go-to verse for threads unless specified otherwise. ( TAG — VERSE: Crossover )

TUMBLR JOHNNY: This is a special Johnny. :) Still your classic, regular Johnny Bravo by all accounts, same as above—however, it's more interactive! For example, say Johnny gets a lot of anonymous messages and questions and such, and he gives an IC response! NPC characters can also thrive here, so you could get as creative with it as you want. Occasionally, I'll also post my own writing drabbles or have fun events to go along with it, much like this therapy session drabble i wrote here! In essence there really isn't ANY verse attached to this one, and you could possibly even apply this to other verses instead if it could be applicable! ( TAG — VERSE: TBA )

TEEN: In this verse, Johnny will be his teenage self! Which can be anywhere from 13 – 17. Here, he is NOT as buff as he is now (except for age 17, specifically); in fact, he was actually quite scrawny as a teenager! It was also the 1980's when he was a teen, however that part can be optional if you'd prefer. ( TAG — VERSE: Teenage Johnny )

OLDER: For this verse, Johnny can be anywhere in his 40's - 50's. Older Johnny's character can vary a little depending on the setting and thread. Here's a post describing my general concept for a middle-aged Johnny! ( TAG — VERSE: Older Johnny)

POKEMON: Here, Johnny is a Pokemon trainer (team TBA)! But despite what you might assume... he's not really much of a fan of battling. Not to say that he won't battle if put to the challenge, but he's actually more of a fan of contests himself—in which he instructs his Pokemon to show off their moves, literally and figuratively! You know, all for show, baby! ( TAG — VERSE: Pokemon Trainer Johnny )

STEVEN UNIVERSE: Rather than your typical gem AU... Johnny is still a human in this verse, and lives at Beach City. He's still his regular self, essentially—however, he is exclusively looking to date gems. He's not interested in any human woman! He wants those foxy space mamas! He reasons it's because he wants to be included in fun alien adventures, and have the opportunity to travel space. And what better way to do that than by bagging an alien babe? He... doesn't have much luck in his romantic pursuits so far, though. ( TAG — VERSE: Steven Universe Johnny )

THE LAST OF US: Okay, basically, imagine Johnny's in the place of Joel in TLOU! If you've got a child muse, they could potentially fill the role of Ellie—however, if not, the "Ellie" role will instead go to Little Suzy! Keep in mind, please, that I'm only going off of the TV show version of TLOU here, so I am not familiar with the games or the full story yet! ( TAG — VERSE: TLOU Johnny )

EVIL HENCHMAN: Got an evil villain character of some sort? Johnny could be their henchman, if you'd like! Just know that he's not a very GOOD one, and will probably mess up all your plans by complete accident. Often makes a good "foil" character in this regard. ( TAG — VERSE: Henchman Johnny )

MEDIEVAL / KNIGHT: Based on an idea with @riiese ! Here, Johnny's a knight in the Medieval era! I imagine instead of sunglasses, he wears a big ol' helmet that covers his eyes and the gigantic pomdadour is still just hiding under there LOL. He goes around saving "maidens in distress," and thwarting any foe that stands in his way, in his... own goofy, cartoonish ways. ( TAG — VERSE: Sir Bravo the Brave )

PRINCE: Similar to the Knight AU, this verse may typically take place in the Medieval era, or any other old-timey era where princes would be a thing. Here, Johnny is royalty, and an heir to his mother, Queen Bunny! He desperately searches for a princess so that he won't have to assume the throne all by himself someday. ( TAG — VERSE: Prince Johnmark )

TOUR ROADIE: Based on an idea with @burnlikeme & @mfniccals ! Johnny is a tour roadie, riding around with singers & musicians as they perform around the world. He is not a celebrity himself, but is extremely starstruck around them, and hopes that this could be his ticket to stardom if he plays his cards right! ( TAG — VERSE: Tour Roadie Johnny )

MILITARY / G.U.N: Based on an idea with @drrobctnik ! Here, Johnny's a new recruit in the military. He's just gotten his beloved hair shaved—which may not seem like a big deal to most, but to Johnny it's like the end of the world, and because he initially put up such a resistance to it he's already on bad terms with some of his higher-ups and peers. ( TAG — VERSE: Military Johnny )

BABYSITTER: Got a child muse that could use a babysitter? Look no further! Johnny's got you covered. He may be in over his head, however, as Johnny has little experience with kids and is prone to making plenty of mistakes. It's worth noting that this verse happens to take place in Johnny's late twenties to early thirties (28 – 33 years old), sometime after his mama has passed away. ( TAG — VERSE: Babysitter Johnny )

STUNT DOUBLE: Based on my own personal story for Johnny, in which he briefly works as a stunt double for movies & actors for a time! He's not much of a celebrity himself—he merely works for them. And like his Tour Roadie verse, he's absolutely starstruck to be around them! However, it's worth noting that this verse happens to take place in Johnny's late twenties to early thirties (28 – 33 years old), sometime after his mama has passed away. ( TAG — VERSE: Stunt Double Johnny )

WAITER: Same as above, based on my own person story for Johnny—but here, he works as a waiter at a 5-star restaurant for cuisine of various Asian cultures. It's worth noting that this verse happens to take place in Johnny's late twenties to early thirties (28 – 33 years old), sometime after his mama has passed away. ( TAG — VERSE: Waiter Johnny )

CASHIER: Here, Johnny works as a cashier at a music shop! He's starting to realize he may be a bit out of touch with what everyone likes in their music nowadays—he's got some old-school tastes himself, which gives him a harder time if the more modern crowd were to ask him for music recommendations. It's worth noting that this verse happens to take place in Johnny's late twenties to early thirties (28 – 33 years old), sometime after his mama has passed away. ( TAG — VERSE: Cashier Johnny )

[heavenbarnes]

I AM SO DOWN FOr u to make all of the 141 as tradies . i ride the train in the wee hours of the morning and am constantly surrounded by tradies in short shorts and my brain short circuits bc why r u showing off your muscular thighs and calves at 5am

price is the site manager, he usually wins the contracts because he comes with a team of frankly frightening looking men who are all expertly skilled at their trades and listen to the man like dogs with pinned ears

simon is the plumber, good at dirty work as a guy best described as rough around the edges with the way he mostly communicates with grunts and the impending thumps of his steel caps on the exposed flooring

kyle is the sparky, known for being fine fingered with a clean work space and honestly masterful with a wire in each hand not to mention the fact he’s easily the most approachable out of the team

johnny is the carpenter by trade, can make something out of nothing and he might be a right shit on the job site he’s unspeakably talented when it actually comes to getting the job done (when complimented he reminds everyone jesus was a carpenter)

[tojisun]

the hand that feeds you

— “i take care of her, s’all.”

johnny mactavish x f!reader

cw: 18+ work - minors dni; age difference; daddy issues (kinda the central plot); cooking as a love language; slow burn but in high speed; a breath of angst; power imbalance; canon divergence - regular/non-military life au // amazing divider by @gildui! // 6.5k words

extra notes: this is a very self-indulgent work. there are holes in the plot, 100%, so ignore those holes pretty pls </3 also ik this is more of a captain johnny-verse but midway through, i started projecting so i might’ve written him incorrectly and im really sorry for that!!

being roommates with johnny is not as weird as it is; he’s amicable, at first, then full blown nice when days passed. he’s not loud, per se, but there’s always a constant chatter streaming from his space, like he physically can’t sit still through the silence which is great because you don’t fare any better with the stillness too, so reminiscent of how it was in the suburbs.

you moved to a neighbourhood just skirting past the inner city just because it’s a lot cheaper. but even then, rent was always high and your little box in a rundown complex wasn’t going to sustain you forever even if you wished it would. then, an opening in johnny’s townhouse was posted, almost half-price than whatever is up in the market, and it’s great despite your skepticism. hell, it’s more than great — it’s lifesaving.

your shitty job at the bookstore really can’t cover much of your expenses anymore, and sure student loans and the grant is great, but the growing debt makes you wince so it’s whatever at this point. you’re about to graduate soon anyway, pooling work experience from volunteering and club organizations, and it’s not like you can even go back to how it was.

(underway to law school, primed up before your father’s scrutiny but the burnout got to you before you could even write the LNAT. you realized that being a barrister wasn’t really what you wanted so you changed programs, midway, and switched to children’s education.

god, the disappointment in your pa’s eyes was so big, you knew to pack your shit before he could even kick you out.)

it’s… tough.

god, is it tough. none of your old friends and colleagues could stay in contact, which you don’t hold against them because most of them, by now, have graduated and entered law school. you’re straggling about two years back because of the switch in programs, and everything’s gone too tight. your budget. your social life.

your dating life.

johnny often distracts you from it all — he works in downtown, in one of those high-rise buildings often reserved for limiteds or holding companies, and has to travel off the city every three months. he makes good money, he said jovially, and you know it’s a nudge as to why your portion of the rent is cheap in the first place.

when you finally bit the bullet and asked why he put up one of the rooms in the market, johnny just shrugged and said he needed someone to house sit but sort off permanently. said something like last time he left, the pipes bursted and he couldn’t really fly back to help with the repairs.

it’s great being with him. he’s bright and bubbly, but also dependable in ways you never really thought about. like—

well, it’s all mundane things so listing them feels embarrassing, and it makes you feel as though you’re a touch-starved damsel and johnny just so happened to be the next older man to give you any attention and his time. but you can’t help it. god, you can’t help preen at the way he exists beside you.

he’s just so… beautiful, is what it is.

rugged and charming and loud and filling. the townhouse is too big for the two of you, but johnny makes it work. makes it feel like the two of you just fit into each other’s spaces.

early mornings are spent with him lilting between english and scottish, his exhaustion plastered onto him even after he’s downed two cups of coffee. he bumps his hip onto yours when he ambles out to prepare for his work, grumbling something like good morning and how’re you. afternoons are more lively and productive; it’s of you coming back from campus at six in the evening only to find him in the kitchen, fixing up dinner. it’s always something fancy and rich in flavour; something he always eats with wine on the side.

you, uh, you never thought he could actually cook, let alone feed himself well, but there he was, always a plate ready for you too like it’s expected that you’ll eat dinner with him. like spending time with him was just natural — the sky is blue, the ocean’s deep, and you and johnny fall into each other like there is an invisible string pulling you close to him.

it’s a beautiful change of pace, and there are more days now when you can breathe in a little easier, and you know it’s all because of johnny. it’s all him who pulled you out of your slump and out of that darkness and gave you the room, literally, to grow.

he’s beautiful, but you’ve said that already, haven’t you? he’s just… so good to be with.

then, johnny began picking up and bringing some home.

.

the first time it happened was shocking, really.

you had an early morning, something that’s so murky now in your memories so you’re unsure if it was anything uni related or work related, just that it was five in the morning and you were clambering downstairs as quietly as you could. you rounded the length of the hallway from the platform to the kitchen when you ran into someone.

“steady,” she’d said, voice hoarse and loud in her shock too.

you yelled, jumping, arms swinging because was there an intruder, and it took johnny physically subduing you for you to calm down. looking back now, you burn in embarrassment, but then you had been so worried, your body wound up so tightly in your fear.

“shh,” johnny had murmured with that wry grin. “s’just me, lass.”

your eyes danced between him and the brunette — pretty even in her rumpled shirt, with long legs and a small waist — trying to understand what was going on. you are sure johnny had told you before that he wasn’t seeing anyone so who—

“your girlfriend?” she asked johnny, turning to him with her lips pursed and her brow cocked up.

the question settled in your stomach, doing wonders to your already-fragile psyche. you’d just spent hours thinking about johnny and what he meant to you; what living with him meant. how it eased up something carved within the trenches of your being, like you’d always been waiting for someone like him.

the question was a reminder, like prickling you with icicles, leaving you to navigate the swoop. but johnny had laughed, nothing mean but so dismissive that you felt the curl of shame brandishing from the base of your spine like johnny was laughing at you.

“oh, nah,” he replied, arm still slung over your shoulders. “she’s sorta my ward, yes? i take care of her, s’all.”

that’s all. you’re nothing more to him but a ward. a tenant. not even a friend—

she hummed, then leaned over to kiss johnny, her eyes still drawn to you like she’s watching, waiting for a reaction, and when she got none, she trudged to the door. you and johnny watched as she bent down to slip in her shoes, some stilettos with red bottoms, before wordlessly disappearing into the darkened morning.

“pretty,” you chirped, trying to break the tension of whatever that was.

johnny laughed in that way that surely crinkled his eyes, only to steer the conversation away by asking why you were up early. you remembered what you had to do and you dived to the kitchen in a flurry, chatting about the deadlines and due dates — so it was a school thing — and johnny just watched, silent, humming, eyes still curved in his glee.

you left no sooner than his… paramour did and, for a while, that was that.

but your semester is coming to a close and your schedule is changing, but so is johnny’s. he’s coming home later and later, but always seemed to offer apologies in the form of easy-to-microwave meals for your dinner. they’re still homemade, probably cooked up in the morning before he left for work, and you’d messaged him to say that he didn’t need to worry about you. that, sure, you came to him amidst financial struggle, juggling work and school, and trying to decide if you would have to starve this month because of rent, but you can cook. for yourself and for him too.

johnny’s face did a terrible thing when you mentioned that in person, the first in a while after things got hectic.

“what,” you bit out, embarrassed.

“nothing,” he said, blinking like he was realizing things he shouldn’t. “s’fun doing things f’r you.”

then he clamped up, spooning soup into his mouth, some of it messily dribbling into his chin. it’s not like you were doing any better, with how your throat closed up at his words, eyes going wide.

it’s been a thing, is what it is, but neither of you two have ever acknowledged that it’s a thing. it’s been a wordless experience — of johnny taking over things when it comes to the house because of course he will, it’s his home, but he always covers things for you too. things you’re sure normal landlords don’t really worry about, but not johnny.

there’s always extra food in the kitchen, extra blankets when the weather dips. there’s even a new cooling machine for the summer even though you know johnny’s room already has an installed air conditioning. he’s even changed the seats in the dining room because he caught you once hitting your hip after an all-nighter on a project.

then, he refurbished the den to make it your office.

“you didn’t have to,” you told him, mind racing at your savings, wondering if he was going to increase your rent.

johnny just shook his head with an almost fond roll of his eyes and clapped your back, arm hovering there. “s’all yers, hen.”

everything he did always accounted for you. so why the women?

they’re all long limbed and trimmed waist, with eyes that sparkled even when all you’ve seen of them is always within the poorly-lit hallway. they have voices that curl teasingly, breathy like they’re enticing johnny for one more night. and they’ve always, always, treated you like a—

like a kid.

a burden, almost, of johnny’s.

and, hell, maybe you are. johnny’s almost twice your age; he’s also already well-established in his career, some senior position that you can’t really follow but one he talks about with fondness. he’s got land rover-money, the car in his garage big and black and almost military grade, and it looks so expensive especially beside the crappy civic you were able to snag for a cheap price because it’s got about three-hundred-thousand mileage already.

you’ve got nothing to give him, other than the lousy rent payment that he doesn’t even really need but is just asking for courtesy because it’d be so weird for him to offer a room, or two now given you have the den too, for free. you’ve got nothing on your name, and if it isn’t pity that makes johnny care for you, then you don’t know what.

maybe his string of one-night stands are right — you are just a kid.

that maybe you really are still too wet behind the ears for the real world that you go running to the next person that could protect you from it, stumbling into his life and licking up every drop of his attention, mistaking his kindness for devotion. his care for love.

.

you should have known, then, that the thoughts would ripple, leaving you to feel like the days are unnavigable. obsession quickly took root, growing fangs, and it ensnared you; a vice noose at what had been a pleasant coexistence.

hell, you can barely stand being with johnny because of the jealousy. it’s a shameful thing, but a part of you thinks you deserve johnny more than the others do.

you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s nightmares and the horrors that spill from his lips when it’s twelve in the morning and the two of you have hit the bourbon. you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s aversion to the windows in the living room; that the reason why the curtains are a deep green is not to match the new plants he’s allowed you to fill up his home but because they shroud the panels more than the cream ones had. you tell yourself that nobody knows that johnny can sing; that he can cook a mean tomahawk; that he likes reading; that his wrists were hurting so he’s currently scheduled for a surgery; that he’s soft to you.

the women don’t know this johnny, you tell yourself, nails clawing at the hems of your chest. they don’t know him the way i do.

it’s a pathetic whisper. it’s so laughable. so juvenile.

they’re right. they’re right.

(you’re just a—)

“i don’t see you anymore,” johnny murmured one morning, when things have gone quiet again, a cup of coffee sitting on the counter while he watches you throw orange peels into the garburator.

he just got back from a work trip in aberdeen, his exhaustion loud on his face. his hair is overgrown, the bottom ends of his mohawk curling along his nape. he was there for over three weeks, skirting almost close to a month — the longest he’s ever been away — and you had tried so hard not to message. not to drop casual check-ins because you’re sure no tenant ever does that to their landlord, but johnny had remained just as friendly; asking things like if you wanted another potted plant, a monstera or a dragon tree, or if you still had that swiss chocolate he brought home as a gift, or—

the list of his questions grew, but you’ve given him clipped replies, not knowing how to act right anymore since your quiet realization. even the “thing” that you thought you shared with him had fizzled at the drop of the women coming-and-leaving, and you are left to pick up the pieces.

it’s not like you’re broken or ruined or angry. god, no you aren’t.

but you feel unsteady, like now that you know that you liked him more than he liked you, you forgot how to breathe. how to live without that looming burden because your affection is nothing but a burden.

what will johnny do if he finds out? you can’t afford a new place to move into, not when you’re so close to graduating, the finish line just about to graze your very fingertips with how near it is. money is still tight, and johnny has already spoiled you rotten. has shown you how it is to live a comfortable life. and if he learns of your feelings, you would lose this. more than anything, you would lose him.

so you detached yourself from the noose, curling into yourself and using his work trip as a way to move on.

jesus — move on, huh? like there was a ‘you and johnny’ to even move on from. like there was anything there to read. like there was anything there to pull away from; twitching fingers drawing back into the spaces of your ribs, tucking yourself away from his warmth.

“i’ve been so busy, john,” you muttered, just as tired.

“yeah?” he said, still light. still jovial. “let me cook something nice for ye, huh? reward yer hard work and all.”

“i can’t.” you swallowed down the prickle lodged in your throat, eyes ducking away to avoid seeing his. “i’ve got a meeting with the club.”

(you missed the way johnny’s smile dipped.)

“oh,” he said.

you shrugged, internally wincing at your weak attempt at being normal, before gathering your thermos and your messily-wrapped sandwich. johnny was still standing by the counters when you turned around from the sink, his bulk so close to yours in ages. it had been so long since you could just reach over and feel his warmth; feel the soft pudge of what once were hardened muscles.

he’s looking at you with such sad eyes that it’s jarring to truly see because he’s looking at you like—

like he’s losing you.

“i’m gonna…” you trailed off, not really knowing how to end this truly awkward interaction.

“yeah, f’course,” he croaked out. “take care of yerself huh, lass?”

“thanks.” the smile on your face felt more like a grimace. “see you.”

he said nothing more after that, his eyes still searching; still furrowed like something’s changed and something’s happening, and it made your stomach drop because please. please don’t let him notice.

but johnny just watched as you went, his coffee all forgotten.

(something bloomed in the soft press of your heart, flickering like a young ember. you’ve never realized how longing could feel like your mouth is stuffed with cotton.)

.

johnny hasn't picked up since his return from aberdeen.

they’re getting a new firm so the shuffling has been brutal, leaving johnny to clamber out at five in the morning before coming back home when it’s pushing 11pm. the scruff on his face is becoming more unkempt, salt and pepper becoming more intense, but even then, he’s never looked more ruggedly beautiful as he is now.

it’s like he’s aged years and you shouldn’t be reacting so strongly to the change, but looking at johnny now makes you ache in a different way — core throbbing, throat parched and eyes stinging as you watch him. you’re so drawn to his gravitational pull, unable to detangle yourself now that it feels like he’s more back in your life than he ever was.

and you know it’ll end up hurting you. that you’ll go back to isolating yourself at the drop of a new girl in the house, the smell of her chanel or bvlgari perfume filling up the crevices that you’ve dutifully dusted every saturday morning while johnny’s out for a run. he’s made having casual lovers a cycle, one that you cannot blame him for because johnny doesn’t like you back.

but johnny’s been so attentive to you these days. he’s been a hovering presence even when he looks like he’s one blown wind away from passing out in his exhaustion, his warm hand always on the small of your back as he walks you to the door before chirping a hearty, “kick ass, bon!”

he’s back to fixing up food for you, like that blip in your schedule got him all creative because now, it’s not even just dinner. you’ve got breakfast waiting for you in the microwave, and packed lunch already in your bag, carefully tucked beside the manila folders and plastic envelopes for your capstone. it’s like he’s making up for something which is dumb and wrong because now, you’re all swooping stomach and prickling lungs.

“yummy?” johnny asked, catching you wriggling in excitement at the flavour bursting into your tongue.

your cheeks tingled, feverish, before giving him a shy nod.

he huffed, something so achingly fond, and rested his chin atop his crossed arms. you didn’t know what to focus on — the scruff on his face or the hard lines of webbing veins spilling from beneath his folded sleeves. then, he crooned, “good. that’s good.”

you ran upstairs to your room, throwing an excuse about finishing up your paper, before locking the door, and feeding your cunt two fingers to satiate the burn. the stretch was delicious, raw and sweet, and you humped your wrist, trying to douse the flames burning you up.

you thought of johnny, of the way he looked and how much nicer he’s been; of johnny and the way he was so kind to you, so caring like you’re up in his priority list again, overtaking his busy schedule and the firm restructuring, and his needs.

your orgasm felt like a ripping of reality, your mind splintering at the edges as you’re stretched thin. it felt like you’ve been pulled taut, then released with a resounding snap. it felt euphoric, like the explosion of something intoxicating. something wickedly addicting.

you knew that this could never be unmade. your affections had grown their tendrils, curling past the quiet admiration and spiralling into something unforgiving. into something greater than yourself.

“fuck,” you had rasped out, eyes prickling with tears as shame rushed into your chest. “fuck.”

you didn’t need this. you didn’t need any of this.

but it becomes a cycle — wash, rinse, repeat.

johnny continues to go unshaven; continues to pour his attention to you. and you soak it up, needy and soft, unable to turn away with your tail tucked between your legs. you fall back to the ease of how it had been, hip bumping his, morning coffee shared in the silence, dinner a filling affair once more. all that’s changed are the lingering looks, the resonating touches.

how johnny’s wide hand falls to the small of your back more often; how his fingers just slots against yours every time he passes you your cup; how his eyes rove over your face, always searching for something you dare not hope for.

the last time he flicked his eyes down to watch the way your tongue lapped at your lips, swiping away at the extra cream, johnny’s pupils had constricted before a quiet groan rumbled from his throat. your thighs had quickly clenched close as heat exploded in the pit of your belly, spreading like wildfire through your veins. the pressure on your nub made you hiccup, like a whine dragging itself from your trachea, and johnny had snapped his eyes back to yours so quickly, it made you heady.

“bon–”

“i have to go,” you murmured, clamouring to shaky legs.

you fucked yourself to a deafening point once more, ears ringing as you squirted, the gush of your slick pushing past your fingers. you had to gnash your pillow cover to muffle the moan rumbling from the base of your throat, trying desperately to be good. to not be heard. to be better.

but johnny’s burning gaze on your lips was seared into your memory, blazing on top of everything, and you imagined—

god, you imagined.

the way he’ll take you — beard rough on your chin, thicker fingers spreading you wider, reaching deeper, before finally filling you up with all of him, bullying the whole length of his cock until he bottoms out.

you pressed on your stomach, dizzy, thinking about how johnny would hit that far. you know he would. the women he’s slept with have told you, anyway, in passing, describing how he was in bed with dreamy sighs like they weren’t still reeking of sex and johnny’s aftershave.

(you still wonder why so many of them were mean, their noses tipped up every time they saw you. they were the ones that johnny chose, the ones who were fortunate enough to have been his lover, so you wonder why they still sought you out like you were competition.)

“johnnyyyy!” you moaned, loud and long, your fingers prodding at your walls, and you knew that you’d regret the wrangled cry later, but you didn’t care then, too busy swimming in the aftermath of your orgasm.

.

but johnny heard it anyway.

he told you that he had heard you. 

it happened so quickly — one moment you were bent over the espresso machine, fiddling with the levers with bleary-eyed attempts, then the next thing you knew was that johnny was crowding you, trapping you between the warm bulk of his body and the counter, his eyes furrowed so deeply which made the lines on his forehead run much deeper.

“whu’?” you asked, blinking tiredly at him.

johnny just did this shaky breath that rattled his whole body, like he was propped up by a couple of sticks instead of his whole mass. the mood shifted with that weak inhale though, and you turned to fully face him, ignoring the beeping machine because johnny was still looking at you with those eyes.

the ones that made you feel seen, read, and laid bare before him. like he could weave his eyes past the fabrics of your shirt to peek into the very jagged shards of your heart and see the cross that you’ve been carrying. like he knew things about you that he shouldn’t.

“johnny?” you prodded again, finding his silence alarming.

“yer too young for me, m’eudail,” johnny finally rumbled out, voice thick and deep.

and it’s—

what.

your mind was pressing into your skull, trying desperately to link your synapses together; for the fog to clear and for your coherence to rise above the pull of drowsiness, but johnny was faster. like now that he’s said the first words, the rest just follow, unstoppable in their force and in their meaning.

“i told myself i couldn’t,” he murmured, still breathing shakily; gaze still too fragile. “that yer lookin’ for nothin’ like me, and that yer just tryin’ to get out there with yer career.”

he lifted a hand, fingers twitching, before balling it back down to a fist.

“told myself i’ve gotta let go. found a way to cope and shit.”

johnny took another ragged breath in, and it startled you into gulping one of your own — you didn’t even realize that you’ve held your breath as he spoke to you, your chest clenching tightly as your mind began to link the passageways together, filling you in on what he wasn’t really saying.

“but carin’ f’you was so easy. christ, it was even delightful, hen.” he chuckled, something that was somewhat raw and pained.

you licked at your lips, blinking wide eyes open. johnny tracked the movement, his nose flaring like you’ve done something more than a subconscious thing, his shoulders going taut.

“i like doing all sorta things for you. liked seeing y’eat what i cooked; liked seeing y’use what i got f’you. liked watching y’come home to me. to me.”

a soft sound echoed between the two of you, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was a breathless whimper that petered out from the base of your throat. you didn’t even realize that you’ve curled into yourself, almost like you’re trying your best to shrink before johnny, and johnny crooned.

callused palm cupped the round of your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye. “told myself yer too young; that surely yer looking for someone closer to yer age, but bon, i heard y’last night.”

you startled in his hold, a quiet gasp piercing through the heat. johnny’s lips danced with mirth.

“s’right. heard a loud thump against the wall and ran upstairs, all worried, but guess my surprise, yes? y’were moanin’ my name so loudly, it’s like y’left yer door open.”

“johnny, i–”

“tell me,” he said, moving closer, his chest pressing against yours. “tell me t’stop, bon, an’ i will. but y’ve got to tell me. y’ve got to push me away.”

you looked at him, your eyes trembling at what he was laying out thickly, and your throat going parched at the blanketing desire rippling from him. there were so many things you wanted to ask, but his breath was tickling the bridge of your nose, dancing so close to the bow of your lips, and your heart ached.

desire coursed through you in waves, dribbling from the cup, and you lurched forward, chasing after his lips.

johnny melted into you. his hesitant touch turned greedier, more possessive, mapping your body and pulling you closer into him. his mouth devoured your own, gulping down the pleased little sighs and keens spilling from your lips. he kissed like a man starved, but you weren’t any softer; all nippy and desperate, fingers digging into his hair and fisting at the thin strands.

it was feverish, almost to a boiling point, and you needed more.

god, you needed more.

“johnny,” you mewled when he pulled away just enough to slide his damp lips along the cut of your jaw. “johnny, need you.”

“christ,” johnny sounded so wrecked, his voice rumbling deeply from where his lips were suckling on the soft curve of your neck. “i’ve been dreaming of this, mo luaidh. i knew i shouldn’t but yer so sweet to me and i– i wanted.” he said that word like it was dirty; like he’d been fighting tooth-and-nail to suppress it.

it made you tremble to hear how johnny desired you just as much. he had always felt unobtainable; always danced too far from your grasp and was always bigger than what you knew you could handle — his lovers had always looked divinely; pretty, yes, but fierce in their own right like they knew how to live without johnny; and you know they could, because they didn’t need johnny the way you do. they didn’t look at johnny like you do, like he hung the stars with those thick and aged hands of his.

but as you stood there, feeling every word punctured onto your skin, you couldn’t help but begin to cry, the tears springing from your eyes to slip down your cheeks. johnny rubbed your back, soothing and gentle. 

“i wanted t’take you – make y’all mine,” he whispered. 

you hiccuped, shaky from the weight of your hunger, and nuzzled close. your hands fell from fisting his hair so you could claw at the sharp corners of his shoulder blades, feeling the muscles there rippling, all taut when he bent forward and kissed you.

“please,” you began, feeling your mind thinning because you wanted more. more. more. more. “i can be– johnny, s’always been you. nobody else but you.”

you tugged him away, cupping his jaw and forcing him to look at you. and god, johnny looked so devastatingly beautiful, his eyes all furrowed and his cheeks all flushed, and his lips spit-sheened.

“fuck me,” you whispered, tired of dancing around.

he groaned, something that sounded so pained, before he was tugging you with him, up the stairs and skirting past your room and into his. 

you’ve never been in johnny’s room before, just as he had never been in yours since you moved in, and until now you still don’t know what you had been expecting upon walking in, but the smell of johnny wafting through was almost gut-punching. he smelled so close, like he was everywhere — surrounding you from the ground-up, dousing every pore with him until even your mouth felt full.

and johnny, he smelt like home. 

there were no more words uttered as he stripped you off your pyjamas, sure fingers making their way down the buttons, unlatching them from the hemmed slits. you watched with heavy eyes, blinking slowly like everything had been wrung out of you, leaving you pliant and soft. johnny hummed, appreciative, and mapped kisses from your heaving chest, teeth nipping at the fat, before moving on, sprinkling every expanse of your skin with such reverence. 

your hands were balled to your chest when he reached the jut of your belly, his chin hovering just above your crotch. johnny flicked up his darkened eyes at you, asking silently.

you gave him a nod, not trusting your own voice too.

johnny’s eyes had turned into slits, pleased, and hefted himself up just enough to be able to fit his hands on your hips and tugged your pants down. you shivered, the warmth in his room not enough to suppress the winter chill, and it made you buck into him. johnny comforted you with a quiet shh, rubbing his palm on the pudge of your thigh in soothing circles.

you don’t know why that touch was what did it for you, but soft sobs finally spilled from your mouth, scrunching up the desire into something undeniably frail. johnny didn’t startle though, like he knew that you had been wounding up to this tipping point, and instead continued to touch you tenderly, almost like if he could, he would cradle you close. 

“i love you,” you said, sniffling, because that was the crux of your vulnerability, right?

you love him. god, you love him. 

you’ve loved him since the day he sat you down for dinner and told you that you’ve got nothing to worry about, not anymore and not with him around. you’ve loved him since the day he flipped the den so you can have your own space for work; don’t mind the fact that he didn’t know if you were going to even stay, just that he insisted that you deserved that room either way. you’ve loved him since that swiss chocolate, since that cup of coffee, since he’s begun filling your painfully lonely days with his care. 

you’ve loved him since and now—

“oh, mo graidh,” johnny breathed out. “i love you too.” he kissed your thigh, scruff ticklish. “gu siorraidh is gu brath.”

you wanted to ask what that meant but johnny was already moving, sitting back up to strip out of his own shirt. you trailed your eyes down his body, capturing your trembling lips between your teeth at how breathtaking he was — soft with fat but still heavy with muscles, fuzzy with hair with the smattering pooling just underneath his belly button before trailing down to where they were hidden underneath his pants. 

you twitched before finally braving enough to reach out and brush your knuckle over the indents of his softened abs. johnny hummed, something that curled with appreciation, before covering your hand with his and holding it there. 

“all of me s’yers, hen,” he said with such finality that you felt it settle deep within the marrows of your bones. 

you nodded, emotionally spent and johnny lilted something else in scottish, so soft that it was almost a croon. you let him manhandle you — pushing your hips up so he could slot a pillow under for your back; you were so malleable to his touch as he took over, bending once again for a kiss while his fingers danced past the laces of your panties and into the damp heat of your pussy. 

you moaned, eyelashes fluttering when he pressed one in, so careful and slow, but you were so wet that it slid in with no resistance, gobbling it up knuckle-deep. johnny had groaned like he could feel your rising euphoria, before nosing along your temple as he wiggled the finger around, stroking at your walls. you wondered if he was going to tease but then he was pulling it out, only to plunge two in the next thrust, curling and stretching, and oh—

oh, ssss’good.

you don’t even remember how long he’d been spearing you with his thicker fingers, rough and long and reaching far, far deeper than you could with your own, but you laid there, sobbing, feeling your slick slip out, pooling, making a mess of your thighs and his sheets. johnny had moved from suckling on your neck to taking a nipple in his mouth, teeth softly gnashing at the bud. you felt like you were on fire, burning from your core, aching for a release. 

“cum f’me, m’eudail,” johnny groaned, breathless himself, his cock poking underneath his boxers, the fabric all wet from where his tip was, leaking pearled pre-. “let me see you.”

“johnny, i’m gonna– i’m–!” you squealed, legs jumping, squeezing johnny’s sides as you jolted, hips twitching at the bloating ecstasy. johnny just pushed down on your thigh, not letting up with the pace of his fingers. he was fucking you so hard that his hand’s slapping against your skin, his palm grinding down on your clit just right, and the pleasure sizzled into something biting. into something that was almost painful.

it was catastrophic, pulling you into two directions. johnny’s everywhere — his scent in your lungs, his fingers deep in your pussy, his mouth hot and wet on your tits, and like this, like this, you felt yourself breaking. 

ripping—

then, your orgasm was punched out of you. 

your senses had gone awry — throat throbbing as you cried out, your eyes going blind as they rolled into your skull at the final curl of johnny’s fingers. white noise filled your ears, and it was like you were submerged underneath water, wading through the crashing tides of your climax.

you came back to johnny peppering your face with soft kisses, whispering something you couldn’t decipher past the croon of your name and something like you did good and so beautiful. he’d already pulled his fingers out, and used both arms to cradle you close. you felt so empty — god, that wasn’t even his cock, yet — but your body thrummed pleasantly, almost like the itch was finally scratched. 

“johnny?” you puffed out, voice all scratchy and weak. 

“i’m here, bon. i’m here.”

you hummed, curling into his chest, head pillowed by his arm. you wanted to ask what about his own euphoria, but johnny seemed so content just laying there with you, not really desperate or needy, so you let it go, losing the battle against your drowsiness before finally slipping into a quiet sleep. 

.

johnny’s there for your graduation, carrying a big bouquet of only eden roses. you didn’t even know that those particular ones were expensive until someone from the graduation party oohed and aahed to their friend. 

your cheeks burned when their friend chirped, “well someone’s clearly loved.”

you know that what they said would have had johnny agreeing loudly if he was allowed in the lineup because he is never one to be shy about what he feels; or not anymore, anyway. he loves so fully and openly that you still wonder why it took the two of you so long to get together, but the days since then had just been kind and filling that you have long forgotten how it was to not be with him. 

they’re going to call your name soon, and your stomach swoops, excitement and anxiety mixing in a dizzying tandem. 

you’re graduating with a bachelor’s degree in psychology and a diploma in early childhood education, and this is not where you thought you would be when you first started university, but it’s the happiest you have ever been. and sure much of your poli-sci courses were scrapped when you changed majors, and that’s also a lot of money wasted, but you have three job opportunities lined up already and it’s like the seismic shift in your life had finally corrected itself. 

(your mom said she’s sorry that she and your pa couldn’t come, but you’ve stopped longing for their acceptance and told her it was fine.

there’s a date saved in your calendar, though, for a brunch with her and that was enough.)

you ducked into johnny’s arms when the graduation ceremony ended, careful of the bouquet he’s holding. 

“congratulations, bonnie,” he says, a hearty laugh rumbling from his chest. “christ, i’m so, so proud of you.”

you never pegged yourself for a crybaby, but tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes at the weight of his words. 

“thank you,” you reply, soft and raw, and honest. 

johnny pulls you in, his lips warm as they’re pressed on your forehead. 

and this, just like this, you know things will only get better from here on out. 

[rcdaryl]

Wondering if anyone could write a story about childhood friends!Simon x reader where reader became a popular singer known for their sad romantic songs because it was all about their childhood(crush) friend that separated from Simon leaving for the military.

A song that's titled 'Simon Said' to remember all the promises of a better life together when they're older that Simon said to reader when they were suffering under their respective family's abuse.

Reader's popularity goes up because of this song, to the point that the 141 hears it on the radio somewhere and Simon would either hear Johnny humming a tune or Kyle playing it in the car, wondering why this tune was playing so often.

And maybe, just maybe, Simon and Reader meet again, having their promised life together.

Based on I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE By Tyler the Creator, feat Brent Faiyaz & Fana Hues on the last few verses,

I wish we had better timing,

I'll save a dance just for you.

So don't forget about me, ba-ba-ba-da...

[ceilidho]

Ok if this doesn't sound like an idea you'd be interested in then disregard, i don't want to bother you 🙂 BuT! It's been itching the back of my brain since forced throuple au and creepy-apartment!ghost has compounded it so:

Forced throuple but a sort of android verse with some body snatching horror thrown in for flavor. Reader's husband (Soapy boy) dies suddenly and in their grief a lot of stuff has gone into disrepair, so they mail order an android to help around the house and with crippling loneliness. The company sends Ghost, a refurbished security model now named Simon, and he ends up being pretty helpful despite the silent brooding. Hell, sometimes that even helps as scary dog privilege so you let it slide (big mistake dumby, that android is falling for you in the process of taking care of you ohhh no-).

But maybe Ghosts old security features make him super observant (obsessive) paired with his new "fix it" code make him come to the conclusion that, actually, reader could still use her husband and mail orders a Soap-bot-3000 without letting them know :O. Watch the horror unfold as Reader wakes up one morning to her VERY NOT dead husband in bed and both Ghost and Soap acting like nothing is wrong :)))), maybe some "Simon reverts fo Ghost" too as the story progresses

this is from awhile ago (apologies, anon) and so wickedly weird and cool :)))

androids that are so realistic and bodies so malleable that they almost feel lifelike, like they're flesh and blood. you never wanted to actually give in and purchase one because you have personal qualms with the idea of something so human-looking being programmable and subservient to you; it's just always felt wrong and borderline cruel, and johnny used to concur with you when you spoke about it. that was then though. years and months and weeks before the accident.

now it's midday on a tuesday and you can't even get out of bed. there are two weeks of dishes in the sink and the lawn is overgrown and the feral cats haven't stopped by in days because you haven't had the strength to get up and feed them. your voicemail's been full for days. your sister stopped by and insisted when she saw the state of your house. "at least for a few weeks," she pleaded with you. you can always return it when you're back on your feet. she's already ordered you one from 141 Labs before she's even out the door, making you promise to give it a shot.

when you open the box, you worry that you might've ordered the wrong model. the size of the android they sent you feels out of place, like he's meant for private military companies or as a bodyguard for celebrities. not depressed accountants who can't get out of bed because their husband died two weeks ago. but it's your name on the receipt, your address. so when his blue eyes flare neon when he's first activated and all six feet and four inches of him sit up in the crate (that had to be wheeled in by two delivery men, you recall with a small amount of horror), you wait patiently to introduce yourself.

maybe this one was sent to you because of the defect. he wears a mask because the only layer of skin on his face starts from the bottom of his face down. at first you roll the mask up only to shudder at the exposed wiring and metal where cheekbones should be. you roll it back down.

he comes with a name. Ghost. that's his model, you surmise from the lengthy instruction booklet you're provided. the whole situation feels weird at first; his presence in your house always catches you off guard, even though, you suppose, it's his house now too. you jump whenever you walk into a room and he's just there, silent, so large that you nearly always think Threat first before you recognize him. maybe it's not fully your fault. he makes no effort to signal his presence, moving silently from room to room when he helps carry out the garbage or swifter the living room. sometimes you catch him staring at the photos of you and johnny that still line the top of the fireplace.

you try to be equitable, insisting that he take the guest room as his own. Ghost won't hear of it, following you into your room when night falls; ominous. you have to lock yourself in the en suite to change, heart beating away because you know he's standing just outside the door, like a cat waiting to be let in. shaking hands drag your clothes down. you stare blankly at the door while you shower, fingers twitching when you pass a washcloth over your nipples.

you think there's something wrong with you. you're sick or something. you're sick or something worse because your husband died two weeks ago and the thing in your house isn't even a human and still your stomach clenches when you think of him waiting for you in your room, knowing that you're naked behind the door. it's taboo; it's not something that's done, at least not something that's spoken about. people don't sleep with their androids. recent widows especially should not be thinking about fucking their androids.

two weeks go by. you can't even think about johnny without wincing these days.

"he was your husband."

you look up. Ghost says it like a fact, not a question. you're in the living room sorting through insurance papers while Ghost vacuums under the sofa (he lifts the corner up with just a single hand; you swallow, throat already dry). neon blue eyes zip across your face when you look over at him. you wonder sometimes what he sees there, etched into the plains of your face.

"yeah." your smile is tight, pained. "johnny."

he looks back down to the framed photo in his hand, studying it. you wish you could ask him what he's thinking about, but you worry that would be just another privacy stripped. you can't ask more of him.

"what happened to him?" he finally asks, looking up again.

you feel it catch in your throat. "he, um - he." it doesn't come out. your nose stings before you can even try to get more out. you grimace, shrug instead. you try to smile again, but it's warped, unpleasant to form much less look at. don't ask, it says, whatever you do, please, please don't ask.

"you miss him?"

you blink at him, misty eyed. "ye - of course."

his eyes are so, so blue when he stares across the room at you. it's unnerving to look at; terrifying to find yourself under his scrutinizing gaze. what do androids even think about?

"I understand." he puts the photo back on the bookshelf and walks out of the room.

sometimes you catch him watching you too intensely; rare moments when he doesn't seem entirely mechanical. you wonder if one day you'll roll the mask up and there'll be skin there suddenly, a real flesh and blood person. it feels entirely possible some days. he moves too fluidly, has his own quirks and intricacies that seem newer each day.

you don't try it. the minuscule amount of professional space between the two of you is an absolute. you worry sometimes what you'll let happen if you ever let that distance collapse. already he sleeps motionlessly in the chair beside your bed, refusing his own room. he powers down with his eyes still open, the blue flickering away to a dark grey. it's only mildly reassuring.

when you open your eyes in the middle of the night though, he stares back at you, eyes dark and sightless.

you worry sometimes that you might have made a mistake, letting your sister talk you in to this.

it's the arm tucked around your waist when you're doing the shopping, freezing for a second before the hand on your hip squeezes and he pulls you towards the fruit and veg. it's the menacing stare from over your shoulder when a man approaches you in the checkout lane, offering his condolences (an old colleague of your husband's, he says) and an invitation to dinner. you open your mouth only for Ghost to answer for you.

"No." it thrums out of him, a different modulation. you stare helplessly as the man's face goes white and he makes an excuse to leave, offering you another lame apology.

it's the hand that tugs you out of the store by the back of your shirt, Ghost's voice rumbling like he doesn't know you can hear him. saying something about how you don't need another man in your house. that you had johnny and now you have him.

[miwsolovely]

CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST.

darkfics* will be stated as such / reader’s gender varies

SIMON GHOST RILEY

to be loved, for real. ONESHOT. SOFT HURT / COMFORT. HYBRID!READER. 0.7K.

“ I don’t love. ” “ that’s okay, i’ll do it for you. ” or: simon riley doesn’t love. thats okay; because you, you have enough love to fill the entire globe twice. scratch that, thrice.

good days. SERIES. UPCOMING. ANGSTY. EX-MILITARY!NANNY!READER.

“ protect her. can you do tha’? ” “ with my life. ” or: you need a job, a friend of a friend of a friend needs a nanny. military, nanny, synonymous words no?

JOHNNY SOAP MACTAVIST

frozen leaves. ONESHOT. FLUFF. 2K.

“ marry me. ” “ take me on a date first mr. mactavish. ” or: the monster in your chest won’t stop. its him, his dog, and you. love at first sight.

JOHN BRAVO SIX PRICE

magnolia in may. SHORT SERIES. UPCOMING. SAD THEMES.

“ well aren’t you just as pretty as a magnolia in may. ” or: you almost freeze to death. not to worry, the resident cowboy nurses you back to health. not your fault he’s handsome though.

↳ CHAPTERS: part one. / part two. / part three.

an old symphony. CHARACTER X CHARACTER. SICKFIC. PINCH OF ANGST.

“ You’re strong, John, . . . But even the strongest men need someone to hold them up. ‘S what I’m here for. ” or: John gets sick after a mission in Siberia, never been one for the cold, that one. Good thing he has a sweetheart for a lover.

pretty girl. ONESHOT. UPCOMING. FLUFF. 2K.

“ you make me forget the rules, dove. ” or: the king’s son takes a liking to you. the rules say no but your hearts scream yes.

when your need grows teeth. SERIES. UPCOMING. DARKFIC.

“ I am yours, but most importantly you are mine. ” or: you wake up after a bad accident with no recollection of who you are. no worries, the man claiming to be your husband will fix you right up.

KYLE GAZ GARRICK

loverboy. HC FORMAT. FLUFF. 1K. FIGURE SKATER!READER.

“ i love you. seeing you makes me smile ” or: you have a loving boyfriend. who supports you in everything you do. especially sports.

broken piano keys. ONESHOT. HEAVY ANGST. 2K

“ there was nothin’ you could’ve done, doe. ” or: your lifeline dies. and everyone is suffocating in their own sorrow.

↳ IN THE SAME VERSE: MIDNIGHT BLUES

calming tea. ONESHOT. UPCOMING. FLUFF. 2K.

“ comin’ after my own heart aren’t ya doll? ” or: you like drinking chamomile tea with a little snack while reading. not your fault the barista at your favorite cafe knows your order inside out. not your fault hes a sight for sore eyes either.

VALERIA GARZA

your teeth in my neck. SERIES. UPCOMING. ANGST. DARK.

“ i hate you. ” “ you can’t leave. i won’t let you. ”

MULTI / POLY

impurities. 141. SERIES. ONGOING. ANGSTY. MILDLY DARK.

“ how can you be an outsider, in a team full of them? ” or: they make your chaos make sense

ichor. 141. SERIES. ONGOING. DARKFIC.

“ you always have a place with us. ” or: the four farmers have a house. A big house. And that house, needs a housekeeper.

the bird that got away. GHOAP. SHORT SERIES. UPCOMING. DARKFIC.

“ shoulda known you’d run, bird. ” or: you think you learned your lesson

the riley’s. GHOAP. ANTHOLOGY. MILD ANGST. TEACHER!READER.

“ we want ye, bonnie lass. no one else. ” or: you fall in love with your neighbor and their daughter who’s also your student. what can go wrong?

* when i say ‘darkfics’, i DO NOT mean “this character will cnc, rape etc. this character.” no. topics like abuse or rape are/may be MENTIONED in my work but NEVER EXPLICITLY shown. if its not your cup of tea i COMPLETELY understand, i will also LIMIT the amount of ‘darkfics’ i write. i will also ALWAYS add warnings on my works if it’s needed.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !

- likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3 !!

©miwsolovely

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

MASTERLIST

~ Lumi, late 20s, she/her ~

~ ALL works are 18+ only, minors DNI ~ Ao3 ~

~ Currently writing for Call of Duty MW2 ~

*******

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

Thots/Drabbles/Musings (Deep-throating || Face-sitting || Sex with Simon)

Situationship-verse (Complete) Summary: What you have is undefined, and you never agreed to commit to each other. And yet…he haunts you. He resides inside you. You don't know where he ends and you begin. What you have may be undefined, and you may have never committed to him, but the day before you met him was the last day you were truly free. OR You enter into a situationship with Simon "Ghost" Riley and forget what your life was like before him. where Simon is both injured and blown || where you cook for Simon but the food’s not all he eats || where Simon makes you come before you have to go || where Simon introduces you to Ghost || where Simon teaches you a lesson || where it begins to end || where Simon grapples with futility || where you both find what was lost || DRABBLES: pissed off || gratitude || Valentine’s Day || somno || first & last

Alford Plea - Chef! Simon Riley x F! Reader Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Epilogue || Outtake

Coworker! Ghost x F! Reader Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

Other Ghost tags Reaper! Ghost - Ghost is Death Himself. Work Rival! Ghost - enemies to enemies who fuck Toxic ex boyfriend Ghost

*******

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

we go where we want to first light || matinal ||

Land Softly - Bed & Breakfast Winter AU Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

Other Ghoap tags Wedding crasher Soap - My best friend's wedding AU (kinda) (but Ghoap edition) Amnesia! Ghost - 50 first dates AU (kinda) Ghoap x Reader - PWP Ghoap x Military F! Reader Donner Party AU - Ghoap x F! Reader

*******

JOHNNY “SOAP” MACTAVISH

Thots/Drabbles/Musings (Messy eater || Baby fever || SFW Alphabet )

Entanglement - Soap MacTavish x Medic F! Reader Part 1 || Part 2 || 

Other Soap tags Feral Horny Soap Ghoap x Reader Sugar baby Johnny

[lovehotelreservation]

chapter nine: it's alright to just admit that i'm the fantasy summary: worldwide fame and a political tie or two has you--one of the biggest pop stars around--in dire need of reliable protection. thankfully you have four ex-military retirees to entrust your wellbeing to. but what happens when that protection turns possessive? rating: r story pairing: f!reader/task force 141 | chapter pairing: f!reader/price previous chapter | next chapter

happy new year !!!

it's british uncle fan time :^)

-----------------

There was something about the sound of stomping boots that was so blissfully nostalgic.

For Price, it called back to the simpler days of when he finally eased into his role as part of the British Army’s infantry, when he–among a sea of recruits–learned to structure their own individual sense of discipline and duty just by learning how to accept marching orders with diligence and heads held high.

Many years later, with his passage of time marred with shed blood, the rise of defiant revolution, the destructive collapse of conquest, he found himself issuing out such orders while handling the mantle of captain.

Though now retired, he was standing back in observation, his head lowered, the rim of his cap shadowing over his steely gaze.

He was focused on a pair of stomping boots–over the knee, cherry red, pointed heel–, a pair of cotton black shorts���hip-hugging, flimsy, constantly riding up–, and a pair of exposed thighs–soft, delectable, tempting.

Price was on dance rehearsal duty this time around. Typically, he preferred to be with you during more pressing matters such as escorting you to dinners and galas with more high-profile clientele–political-types, as the last thing he would ever let happen on his watch was some old yet powerful bastard eye you down as a trophy housewife. However, it only took a few pictures of you during a visit to your costume designer’s studio that Kyle sneakily snapped and sent from last week’s practice into the 141 bodyguard group chat that had him rearranging everyone’s schedule for the week.

🧢: you lot seein this??? it’s one of her planned outfits for the tour

🧢: height gap’s closing in on you johnny lol

🧼: fuck off gaz 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕 

👻: price you best leave that schedule alone, you old bastard

👨🏻: consider this new break a gift from me to u all

🧢: oh for fucks sake

🧼: PRICE YOU CUNT

👻: 🔪

Insults from Kyle and Johnny, threats of violence from Simon–he’d gladly withstand them all anytime.

Because the quick glimpse of you posing around in those boots was something that Price had to witness for himself firsthand.

Immediately.

By his grand and mighty stature–as shared by the others–Price was always casting his gaze down to meet yours. At times, how much he needed to shift his eyes depended on how high your heels were–ever the amusing experience to talk to you just before you would go and change shoes, whether some chunky platforms to bring you up, or heels to strut around in.

In this case, it was the cherry red boots that you were wearing that elevated you, seemingly activating that ferocious performing spirit of yours while you ran through your choreography with your dancers. The fire in your eyes spoke of your dedication, fully in tune with your movements as you hit your marks with perfect precision, each tap of your boots on the polished wooden floor bringing satisfaction to his ears.

After all, he was well-versed in giving marching orders to recruits.

The idea of instructing you, commanding you, ordering you–his mouth shouldn’t be watering so much at the thought, the fantasy.

But as he watched you drop to your knees in those boots on all fours towards the end of the song, lust was spreading through him at a poisonous rate. If he had it his way, he would have you march straight to his bed–the perfect stage for a show just for him and him alone.

He would applaud a job well done with kisses along your neck, words of praise rough and laced with filth, giving you your flowers by spreading your thighs, having those boot-clad legs of yours hug his waist as he left you whining and writhing with every merciless swing of his hips—

“Price~”

His attention was back on you in an instant, a kind smile spread across his lips, his eyes warm.

“Yes, dear?”

Your current look was delectable. Flushed skin shining with sweat from a vigorous rehearsal, shirt tied up to expose your midriff, and–of course–your tiny shorts and high-heeled boots.

While basking in your appearance, he heard the footsteps of all the other dancers and staff departing for lunch, leaving just the two of you behind in the practice room.

With a grin, you proceeded to purposefully click your boots down onto the floor. “Would you ever last a day in these shoes at your last job?”

The idea of Ghost Team donning skilled masks and boots similar to yours while exacting revenge Graves crossed Price’s mind, prompting him to immediately begin guffawing with amusement, “Afraid not–a platoon of some of the world’s most capable men could never stand to be in those boots of yours!”

You giggled in satisfaction, even throwing a salute towards him. “An honor, sir!”

Desire shot through his amusement.

He bit back a groan. “Sir” never felt so good to hear until this very moment.

“Anyway, let me grab some water real quick and let’s get lunch after!”

With this, you turned around to step over to where a basket of chilled water bottles awaited. As you bent over to reach for one to drink, the jolly bemusement on Price’s features flashed to an expression far more nefarious–scheming even–as he drank in the sight of your presented backside.

Those thighs, those shorts, those boots.

If he were to lock the door to the practice room this very instant, you wouldn’t even last 5 minutes.

-----------------

today's chapter was brought to you by snsd's "oh!", twice's "strategy" and ive's "after like" dance practice videos !!!

i also just realized that oml we're getting close to not only the end of this 5-chapter update run but also the end of this piece as a whole !!! thank you for your continued support !!! it means so much to me !!!

i hope you enjoy what's to come in the next chapter !!!

chapter title: maybe we're so meant to be

chapter focus: ghost

[taetr4ck]

Not a request but WHICH SKZ/NCT MEMBER WOULD YOU FIGHT GO!

a/n : i just opened my tumblr after a good whole week and this is what i first read FUCK IT WE BALL ! doing all of them because i feel a bit silly today

contents under the cut

STRAY KIDS

BANG CHAN - no. this is self explanatory tbh. i would straight up ask him to marry me

LEE KNOW - i would. but in return he would tell me how much my parents wrecked my whole being so i'll end up tearing up in the corner

CHANGBIN - one slap from this man and i'm already out of this world. he can literally slap me and the next second i'm already in the fifth dimension. no words needed. i would not fight him.

HYUNJIN - i would and then fall in love in the process

HAN - how could i fight this man ? RUTHLESS.

FELIX - i don't have the heart to tbh. i'll cry before i even land my first hit

SEUNGMIN - big yes tbh. i feel like he's the perfect person to pick a fight with. our competitive ass won't give up so easily unless one of us isn't breathing anymore LMFAO

JEONGIN - this man would stab me before i even know it

NCT 127

TAEIL - one glare from this man and i'm already shivering. 50/50.

JOHNNY - i should be punished for forgetting to put him here. what was i thinking !!!! anyway !! i feel like he would be the one to initiate the fight LMFAO he would straight up come to me and just do a ‘let’s do a square’ ‘aight bet’ kind of interaction tbh he would be the funniest person to pick a fight with. i would fight him. he’d be my sparring buddy afterwards

TAEYONG - bro he's about to do his military service leave him alone 😭🙏🏻 poor bubu i would not fight him

MARK - i would. then we will start throwing rap verses (special mention to jopping) like we didn't almost stabbed each other earlier

JAEHYUN - one punch and my skull is already cracked in half. nope

YUTA - i would just straight up kiss him tbh i would not last for five seconds looking at him

DOYOUNG - he would verbal abuse me tbh that's enough to wreck me

HAECHAN - one michael jackson merch for him and he's wrecked so easily. i would fight him.

JUNGWOO - boy this man would bring a baseball bat even though we agreed to have a fist fight. cheater. i would fight him

NCT DREAM

RENJUN - his glare is enough to kill me. 50/50.

JENO - man idc this is jeno we are talking about !!!! he can punch me in the face and i would not bulge !!!!

CHENLE - man he is the worst person to fight. one word from him and i’m already having a mental breakdown. he would unwrap every inch of my traumas from childhood to present. i won't risk it 🫡

JAEMIN - no because we will have our silly little tea party while talking about cute and pretty things

JISUNG - the idea itself makes us both want to cry

WAYV

KUN - he's too good to pick a fight with. my conscience could never

TEN - big yes. put those slutty muscles to work boy !

HENDERY - we would have a fight in valorant and i'd lose. can't risk my reputation for that smh (kidding)

XIAOJUN - this man would straight up launch at me like a fuckin dog. i would fight him (affectionately)

WINWIN - no. i would ask him to be his gf. no explanation needed

YANGYANG - we would have a pillow fight and the next second he's already holding a brick. i said let's have a pillow fight not give me a fucking concussion 😭🙏🏻

should i add my taglist here omg

⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open

[meggannn]

first ten lines

Rules: Post the beginning lines of your 10 most recently published fanfics, then attempt to tag 10 people!

tagged by @elf-trash!

Haecceity Framework (Cyberpunk 2077): Johnny had made it crystal fucking clear that he would be present when they eased V out of her coma, but instead, his benevolent makers dragged him over to the lab that morning for yet another vaccine series to protect his new body from what-fucking-ever-itis that was now running amok in the ungodly year of 2078.

A Crow Flies Down (Dragon Age 2/Inq): Something about stepping into the heart of an organization that intended to “restore order” by way of military force and religiopolitical machinations set Hawke on edge.

Stray Dogs (Baldur's Gate 3): She woke to a prodding hand, a lip that felt puffy, and a nose that felt broken.

Burnt Blood (Hades 2): When Melinoë materialized back at the Crossroads only to feel the sudden weight of her brother’s body collapsing over her shoulders, she realized she had shamed her family mere minutes after meeting them.

Gold from Fire (Fullmetal Alchemist): After several weeks hopping trains and trudging through South Amestris with his new allies constantly sweat-soaked, sore-footed, and bleary-eyed, Ling was starting to feel as though he had the best deal of them all.

Staircase Wit (Into the Spider-Verse): The bite is itching again.

Fingerpaint Card (Across the Spider-Verse): It takes a few months for Peter to first consider that Miles is still pissed at him.

A Goddess in the Pew (Fire Emblem: Three Houses): The day after Teach pulled the Sword of the Creator out of Saint Seiros’s casket and subsequently became the most interesting mystery in the monastery, Claude found her sitting in a cathedral pew, three hours past lights out.

Matters of Course (Dragon Age 2): Fenris knew it would be a hard day before he opened his eyes.

Tides, Receding (Mass Effect): It was five days after the death of Mordin Solus and Shepard was taking her first vacation in God only knew how long.

tagging uhhh @meredithalden @luvwich @steinbecks and whoever else wants to do this

[zenmastercharles]

Hypothetical Cobra Kai Musical Songs (Season 3)

Sorry this took a while, school was cooking me like turkey. 

What if Cobra Kai was or had a Musical? Well, this is what I think a couple of the songs in Season 3 would be like.

First up is DEFINITELY a song about the community reacting to the whole karate war situation. It ranges from negative takes to positive takes, basically a bunch of random people singing and maybe some of the secondary characters can throw in their two cents. As a base, think Hatchet Town from Nerdy Prudes Must Die. Wow, crazy how that’s not the first time I’ll be referencing NPMD.The second to last verse is a mashup of everyone else’s. Anyway, I’m thinking maybe Johnny can have the last verse as he laments over what could’ve possibly gone so wrong. I’d just call it Aftermath, after the episode. 

Now, Episode 1 has a ton of moments that could be musicalified, but I narrowed it down to just two, the second of which being a reprise of Fall Again from Season 2, but this time sung about and to Miguel as he’s in comatose.

Okay so, I completely forgot that Miguel wakes up from his coma in Episode 1, I had a song idea for that I guess I can just put it here. It’s like Courage in Me (Christina Vee Cover) from the Miraculous Movie had a baby with Scarface. It’s a blood-pumping, dance-rock track about Miguel fighting to wake up from the coma, lighting the fire within him to win in the mind tournament his comatose-ness was portrayed as. I’d call it Power In Me, and yes I know it’s dangerously close to Courage In Me, shush.(Off topic but I’m surprised they haven’t used Scarface on the show yet).

Now, to Episode 2. This episode is kind of all over the place in terms of events, so I was only able to find one place where a song would be appropriate. Remember that hypothetical Kreese solo I mentioned in Season 2. Here it is, at the tail end of the episode. It’s called Black and White, and it’s inspired by Be Prepared and military rock. He basically sings about his world view, about how all their lives they’re told to be good, but good is a matter of perspective. He tells his students that their enemies view themselves as heroes, and them as villains, and that they must shed their weakness like true cobras. It’s basically just Kreese’s villain song.

Hmmm, from what I’m thinking, I can’t come up with a song for Episode 3. This might change as I continue through the doc. For now, just imagine a reprise of Clockwork.

Next is an admittedly odd choice, but it’s a Kumiko song. It’s a ‘Colors of the Wind’-esque song about their past and their connection and how far Daniel’s come. I don’t have many thoughts on it and honestly it’s just a song I put in because 1, I feel like this musical’s become too rock heavy, and 2, I didn’t want to leave two episodes in a row songless.

However, what I will NOT call an odd choice is my next song, a Chozen solo. It’s basically Chozen telling Daniel about Miyagi’s forced-to-kill scenarios, and teaching him how to do pressure points. He explains that defense takes many forms. I’d probably name it True Devotion, but it’d be one of those songs where the name doesn’t pop up in the actual song because I’m not too sure about the name.

HAZBIN HOTEL SEASON 2 LEAK SPOILERS ALERT 

Now, I don’t know where to put this, but I’d really like to fit a Tory villain song somewhere, I mean, she’s a genuine cartoon villain in Seasons 2-3. Her song would be….okay, I know it’s very bad to spread leaks, I myself was pissed after I watched this because I thought it was a fanwork and later realized it was a leak, but it’s just perfect for comparison. It would be almost exactly like Like Gravity from the Hazbin Hotel S2 leaks. I imagine it would have Kreese as ad libs pulling her to the dark side. I’d call it Run Dry, with the lyric “And now the patience well’s run dry”.

ALRIGHT LEAK SPOILERS OVER

Afterwards, a Sam solo taking place after the arcade fight, all about how afraid she feels of Tory after the school fight. She admonishes herself for being too cowardly to save her friend, admits that she’s terrified of being hunted and hurt like that again. She also links fighting Tory to Miguel’s injury, which is just not great for her. It’d probably be similar in genre to Familiar from Steven Universe, a soft, boopy, sad song that makes you feel bad for the gorl. Maybe I’ll call it Frozen, link it with the lyric “Frozen in fear” maybe? Not exactly sure. I’d probably base it on like, the first verse and chorus of Speechless, the hopeless tone of it would be pungent in this song. A unique idea for this is that it’d be short, like a minute and a half, for reasons you will find out later in this post.

And now…for the Binary Bros.

After the arm-breaking thing, you’d expect me to have a song idea for them right. WRONG. I have THREE song ideas for them, but they can’t all coexist because giving them like, 3 songs seems like dragging the issue out. One of them is a duet, and the other two are solos for both of them, so I’ll dive into them now.

The duet first. Kind of off-topic but did you know that Diary of a Wimpy Kid has a musical? Well, there’s a song in this musical called ‘Dear Diary’, and that song has the exact vibe I want for this one. I want it to be both of them lamenting and wondering how their friendship could’ve gotten to this point, and how they both still yearn for each other (platonically or romantically if you’re into the ship), despite being on opposite sides of the karate war. 

It would first show Hawk alone trying to convince himself that what he did was right, but then the mask comes off and he sullenly sings about how much he regrets what he did, and how the nature of his actions in the past few months are slowly starting to set in. It would have remnants of his sonata from Season 2 and it would all be about the regret.

And then Demetri’s verse would kick in, and it would have the structure of Under The Radar, but be as sullen as Hawk’s verse. Demetri is singing that he physically cannot believe that they’ve stooped this low as he looks over old pictures of the two of them, reminiscing on the old days and how good they used to be. He looks inward, thinking about how he could’ve stopped this, how he could’ve helped his friend before he turned to the dark side. 

And then the last chorus would start and it would just be a crushing duet between the two of them, both of them essentially saying the same thing with different words: I miss my friend.

I don’t talk about the visuals of these hypothetical songs enough, let me do it now. The visuals would be of them soaring through the universe, dodging planets and astroids and other astronomical objects to get to each other, which would represent how they’ve overcome every obstacle in their friendship until now. And then they would get to one planet, one half of it is black with the Cobra Kai logo, and the other is white with the Miyagi Do logo, and no matter how much they fly around it, the planet rotates to keep them both on their respective sides. They plant their hands on the planet, and the colors of their sides start to take over their bodies as they passionately sing the final lyrics. And then, when they repeat the last lyric, all of the visuals fade away and it shows them just standing with their heads against the wall, but it’s shown in a split-screen kinda way so it looks like their touching foreheads.  I don’t know if I explained that well enough, but this section is long enough.The song would be called My Other Half. 

On to the solos, first, Demetri’s, a few weeks ago I wrote a Demetri version of All 2 U from Helluva Boss, it’s not perfect but I put my whole writerussy into it. Anyway, I think this hypothetical song would be like a cross between All 2 U and Lost In The Woods from Frozen 2. In my mind, it has the emotional rawness of All 2 U, but the message is a mix of both. You know that one interview where Gianni says that Demetri can’t function without Eli, so I’m taking that and running with it. This song is basically Demetri’s mini-mental breakdown, where the mask comes off and he reveals just how much he has been hurting emotionally, having had his other half ripped away from him. It would have guitars, drums, just like the songs I mentioned as basises, it would be all around depressing. But it would end on a sort of happy determined note of Demetri saying he’ll wait for Eli to come back to him and see the light.The song would literally be called Back To Me. 

And then, Hawk’s solo, Hawk would try a little bit harder to keep the mask on, singing about how this is the right way and he deserves to be strong after everything he’s been through, he needs to be strong after all the ways he’s grown. And then it comes off as he sings, “But what if I’m the monster?” It’s basically everything his verse in My Other Half is but longer. I think it’d be similar to Loser Geek Whatever (casually steals @embryoed’s idea), but like, crossed with Micheal in the Bathroom. I’d just call it Monster. 

WOO finally, that section’s over. God DAMN. After that absolute trio of terror, I think we deserve a fun song.

This next song is called Who Are We, and it’s centered around Johnny, Miguel, and the rest of the soon-to-be Eagle Fang coming up with a cool name. It’s a kooky, chill, pump up fun song of Johnny trying to get the eagles hyped up in hopes that they’ll help him come up with a name. Everyone suggests horrid names. 

And then, next a Carmen solo. It’s basically that moment where she apologizes for blaming Johnny and that she was hurt by what happened. She exposits almost the whole story about their life, how they immigrated in from Mexico because Miguel’s father was a horrible man, and how he’s had complications his whole life and how she’d do anything for him, yada yada. I’d probably call it Historia De Nuestras Vidas, or ‘Story of our Lives’ in Spanish…probably, idk I used Google Translate because I cheated my way through spanish class last year. It’d sound slow and sultry like something you’d hear in a musical episode of a telenovela. Oddly I’d want the verses to sound like the verses in Bum Biddy from Eight Crazy Nights, which is funny as hell. That song just has a really good structure.

After that, a song that takes place in the appeal. It starts out with Kreese pulling a Kreese, waving his ex-military status and PTSD around like a get out of jail free card and claiming that Miyagi-Do started the violence, painting them as the villain and infuriating Daniel and Amanda.Then, Daniel steps in, singing about the true story of how it all started, which not a lot of people actually believe because of Daniel’s history. Then, Johnny interjects, actually supporting Daniel (partially), and sharing about how Kreese’s methods destroyed his life and sent him on a downwards spiral. It devolves into an argument until Miguel shows up, singing the last verse about how he was bullied before he started learning karate, about how there will always be bullies and karate is all about standing up to them. I’d call the song Karate Belongs In Northridge, but the title wouldn’t show up in the song lol.

Then…alright, you’ve had a break from the emotional hits, it’s time for another. 

Robby’s pseudo-villain song, let’s GO. I call it a ‘pseudo-villain’ song because honestly, compared to what I have coming up for this guy, this song is child’s play.

Anyway, it’s basically Crossing the Line from Tangled with more guitars, it takes place after he finds Miguel and Sam kissing, and he’s on his way to Cobra Kai. Like Clockwork, it starts with him singing about everyone who’s screwed him over, starting with Johnny, the sperm donor who abandoned him for years, made a weak attempt to reconnect just to be able to say that he did, and then replaced him with another teenage boy.

And then Miguel, who he felt he could never measure up to for anyone, the boy who took everything away from him.

And then Sam, who made him feel like he could be loved and then it turned out he was basically a placeholder to her.

And finally, the one that stung the most: Daniel. He made Robby feel important and that he had potential, only to throw him away at the slightest inconvenience. 

After that, he launches into the chorus, singing about how he’s putting the walls back up stronger than ever before, about how he’s learned from every betrayal and figured out that he can only trust and look after himself. He’s been the scapegoat for far too long, so he’s taking his life back, and Shifting the Narrative. (That’s the name of the song if you couldn’t already tell, which you probably could)

And then, no more songs. That’s right, Episode 9 doesn’t get a song, because we have to prepare for the next and final song: a Sam-Tory duet (kind of).

It starts with Tory, singing in a similar manner Hawk did when hunting Demetri in Season 2’s finale. She’s singing about how karma’s caught up to Sam and now she pays for everything she’s done. She calls Sam a snob, a nepotism baby, one of those people who thinks the world should all that usual rhetoric she used to throw around to excuse her actions, and Sam’s taking the brunt of her rant and attacks…until she shatters the Miyagi Do picture.

Every memory she’s had of Miyagi flashes through her mind at once, and she gets so pissed off that the trauma literally gets scared and leaves. It’s like an unforgiving, cold rage, which leads me into my next sentence: the reason Frozen is so short is because it’s the first half of this song. And now, we enter the second half: Avalanche. 

I literally wrote up these lyrics:

Every sting, every lesson, every tear, every second wasted petrified and fearing for my life

Every dream, every vision, every nightmarish decision piercing straight through my psyche like a knife

I’ve listened to all your baseless accusations, your bold and faceless condemnation

And it’s built up in my soul with the goal to take control until it all bubbles over like an avalanche

So yeah, this song is intense. It’s Sam saying she is DONE with Tory’s bullshit and beating her ass while singing. Honestly, I’d probably compare it to Stronger Than You in terms of message. Tory thinks she knows exactly who and what Sam is, but she hasn’t even begun to understand who Sam is, everything that she’s been through, everything that’s made her who she is today. And now, she’s going to show her. 

And yeah, that’s the last song of the season. An intense bop about Sam owning tf out of Tory. 

This was honestly the funnest season to conceptualize for so far. I especially liked thinking about Avalanche, if someone takes my idea and makes it a reality, that song is going to be therapeutic. And I do hope I broke some hearts with the trio of terror that is the binary bros’ songs.

These posts got a lot more attention than I though they would. Off topic, but sometime in the near future I’m thinking about writing a kind of Cobra Kai parody/rewrite fanfic, it would exaggerate some plot points for laughs while completely changing others, and I would structure it like a normal TV show (26 episodes per season). It would also be a jukebox musical, probably using the songs I used as basis’ in these post.  Would y’all read that? Let me know. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and as always, if you have suggestions, don’t hesitate to share.

[maaskuline]

@supcrsxnic-cxmct liked for a starter!

Johnny hadn't been a G.U.N soldier for very long, and, frankly, he really didn't understand much of any of what he was told. All he knew was that there was some blue rodent-y thing that the big man himself, Robotnik, was looking for—but for what reason, Johnny hadn't a clue. And when he questioned it, all he'd gotten in response was an impossibly long tangent that he couldn't keep up with if he tried.

And now, here he was, standing beside the confine in which Comet was currently being held. They'd decided to leave him in charge of guarding the room, ensuring that the hedgehog wouldn't escape. Although Johnny didn't understand much about this blue kid himself, he was determined to make a good impression for the higher-ups—and so, for good measure, the soldier leaned in close to the cage to tell him...

"Hey, just so you know, don't you try anything funny while you're in here, ya hear me, kid? I know several forms o' martial arts, n' I ain't afraid to lay down the moves if I've got to!" he warned him, before striking an oh-so intimidating pose to prove his point.

[plazmafields]

Some thoughts about Kerry:

Spoilers ahead, needless to say.

1)

I saw a video comparing the two versions if Chippin' In (Kerry's vs. Johnny's) where someone in the comments suggested the reason Kerry leaned more mainstream rock is because he only wanted to make music for money. I completely disagree with this and here's why:

User Friendly was the last song Kerry put out before deciding he wasn't going to perform live/tour anymore and went into a deep depression. Looking up the lyrics, you can see he was becoming very distressed with the lack of control he had over his career, and the things he says in the song sound like a cry for help that wasn't received by listeners the way he had hoped. We never hear his version of the song, and I believe that is intentional. Vapid, loud, chaotic, almost over-stimulating laser-pop is such a huge juxtaposition to the lyrics, and yet it's the only version we get to hear. Clearly User Friendly meant a lot to him or I don't think he would have reacted the way he did; combined with the cover being done by a pop group groomed by the music industry to sell as many albums as possible, it all went against Kerry's original intent with the song. Then there's the story of how he wrote Bleed the Beat: he was working his ass off for people he couldn't stand and that song was his outlet during that time. He'd play until his fingers bled just to get his frustrations out. Music is his medium for release, just like it was for Johnny.

In Johnny's version of Chippin' In, the phrase "chipping in" has two meanings: getting your first implants, and, the same as our universe, helping out. Johnny's song uses both meanings interchangeably during the choruses, the verse before it dictating which definition is being used. Johnny's arm is (from what I can tell looking at the design) military issue. The song is both about the corpo military forcing him to get an implant, and also about believing he was doing the right thing when he joined by "helping out" the armed forces. Since, in this universe, militaries are owned and/or sponsored by corporations, Johnny views corporate jobs and military service to be the same level of morally wrong (The Ballad of Buck Ravers attests to this).

In terms of how the two songs compare, obviously Kerry's version of Chippin' In is meant to have more wide appeal. Not only are the lyrics more tame, mostly just talking about the implants themselves and only having one verse that even mentions anything "political", but I believe Kerry understood that the best way to get his music to the most listeners was to go for a more mainstream sound and universally relatable lyrics, so he toned it down. Everyone hates corpos, sure, but not everyone wants to bomb Araska HQ. This is probably a stretch, but we can see from the flashbacks that Kerry didn't have any implants during his time in Samurai, so maybe Johnny was like super opposed to implants after having one forced upon him, and Kerry's version of the song is kind of saying "hey if you want implants get implants, they make you look cool don't feel bad about it."

2)

I do support the idea that Kerry should have been bisexual like in the source material. I absolutely get that bi erasure is a big problem, ESPECIALLY with male characters. However, I respect that in the game you can only romance him with a masc V; I'm not going to mod him to he bi, I'm not gonna ship him with women. I see it the same way I see Cullen from DAI: he is canonically bisexual, just not attracted to my male Inquisitor (in Kerry's case, fem V). Maybe Kerry had such a traumatic divorce from his ex-wife that women just kinda scare him right now. We can see high heels and bras and blush littering his house, so we can assume that at the very least women are still getting naked for some reason or another at his parties. Maybe he prefers men romantically, or maybe he's just not ready to date women again, and we as players should respect that just like we would a real person.

3)

Kerry was 100% going to kill himself when you show up to his house. There are shards advertising robotic security systems in numerous places around his house (meaning he fired his human body guards), shards with negative reviews of his last album, there is only one camera and it is by the front gate (none inside the house), he gave his cleaner and cook "the day off" that very day, you see in emails that his ex-wife is giving him the option of all or nothing with custody (you take the kids or you don't get to see them), and he isn't enjoying making music anymore, his one passion in life. He had a gun with him in the bathroom, and I believe by the way his speech slurs and he makes the impulsive decision to get Samurai back together, that he is drunk for that entire scene and has a drinking problem. It is my opinion that the reason he doesn't reveal any of that to V is because he knows Johnny will hear it and judge him, call him weak, or make insensitive jokes like he does to V when he gives you the quest. The only time we see Kerry be somewhat vulnerable is 1. Over text when talking about the crazed fan, since he probably thinks Johnny can't see those (I believe he can) and 2. In the epilogue when Johnny has been removed from V's head (Kerry says he doesn't want to lose V, and during the credits he tells V he just wants their lives to be less hectic so they can spend more time together).

4)

It took me a couple playthroughs to warm up to Kerry, Panam is probably still my favorite romance, but I think Kerry might be the best romance option for a Skreetkid V. He perfectly embodies the plights of Night City at every income bracket: no matter where you are on the food chain, if you're not at the top, you're getting fucked over. He clearly likes living in comfort while still embracing his rebellious side from his youth. But now, he has the cushion of money and status to save him if things go tits up (when you get a wanted level in Westbrook district, close to North Oak, the officer on the police scanner says "I swear, if its Eurodyne again" suggesting that he is very reckless but hardly ever faces real consequences). Maybe he stays in his gilded cage because he fears facing real hardship on his own, without friends, without a support group, without Johnny. He has a strong sense of pride, though, and would never admit to needing Johnny, even if they were best friends. The way Kerry wants to show Johnny a riff he's been working on after the concert, only to be disappointed when V takes over again, I think it really shows that as much as they disagreed, their friendship held the band together.

5)

I don't remember if Johnny hints at it or I saw someone suggest this on here, but the idea that Kerry only "dates" V because Johnny is in his head is ridiculous to me. The first time he called you to deal with the Us Cracks tour gear, he wanted Johnny. Every time after that, he wanted V. He definitely realizes which of the two is helping him; he can tell them apart. The Johnny that Kerry remembers wouldn't have done a selfless thing in his life, lest risking his pride and reputation as Night City's biggest fuckboy. Whether you really schmooze him up or tell him he's going overboard, Kerry appreciates that you helped him. And I think after the concert, when he hands V his gun, Kerry's body language suggests that he wasn't planning to give the gun to Johnny, he thought about it because V was back in control. V helped get the band back together, V helped decide if Denny or Henry should play the gig, V was the one who brought Johnny to Kerry's house. Johnny won't take over to do it himself despite probably being able to. I only wish you didn't meet him so late in the main story, so that his story could have more time and space to breathe.

[yllowpages]

re: that one johnny dialogue: he did in fact get a vasectomy in his early twenties as he'd decided he didn't really have a desire to be a father. at least not anytime soon. he was a little too focused on himself and his career. and that outlook generally didn't change in the coming years. but by the time he was thirty, what seemed to be a fluke led to him having a daughter with a woman named sonya (who, in my main verse, is former military and a very tough private fight trainer/instructor). suffice to say johnny was terrified when he realized he was going to be a dad, which was something he frankly never thought was going to happen considering he kind of tried to make sure it wouldn't. but when cassie was born, that was it. she became everything to him. that didn't stop him from still hitting his rock bottom when she was only four years old after years of steady and then very quick decline. but the one thing that never changed was how much he loved her. and it was wanting to be a better dad that added to a lot of his motivation to get sober and stay sober.

[piinkponyclub]

various lil headcanons for some of the muses!!

SUPERBALL:

was a theater kid in his school years. if he hadn't become a secret service agent or a bouncer, he would've loved to go into musical theater as a career! alas, life didn't turn out that way.

he is trans (ftm), mostly inspired by the line he canonically says in one of the games where he talks about having post-partum depression. seahorse dad!!

he is divorced (canon iirc), and his son lives with his mother — so Superball lives all alone. his son does come to visit on the weekends though! they don't have the closest relationship unfortunately. Superball loves his son more than anything, but he has to work a lot and has great difficulty with emotional expression (who would've guessed!), so it's hard for him to connect with his kid. he's trying his best though :(

WIGGLYTUFF:

technically, i guess you could say he's male, and typically defaults to he/him pronouns — but she doesn't necessarily mind she/her either, or really just about any pronouns in general. i don't think most Pokemon really care about gender like that. Wigglytuffs have a higher female rate than males though, and without any visible differences in sex characteristics i can see him being mistaken for female pretty frequently, and in which case i don't think he really cares at all lol. she'll just go with it. this is mostly in reference to whenever Wigglytuff is referred with she/her a few times in the games despite canonically being male, which was technically just a translation error but i'm just ROLLING WITH IT bc i can and i like projecting my bigenderisms onto characters

do Pokemon in the PMD universe get married?? i doubt it. but whatever the equivalent of marriage is in the PMD verse, he is that with Chatot pretty much. they're about as close as you can get to a married couple for Pokemon LOL. bonded for life <3

HOMURA:

a lesbian, i think mostly bc she only really has eyes for Madoka and Madoka only. even if she were to be shipped with another character besides Madoka, she'd probably go for another girl who REMINDS her of Madoka and project that image onto any potential partner (not that she's really looking to date anyway, that obviously is not her priority lol, and in fact avoids it completely)

JIGGY:

his gender is basically like. you know whenever Bugs Bunny dresses up as a girl? yeah it's like that. aka, usually seen as masculine by default, but give her any opportunity to dress up for some reason or another, and she'll gladly go full fem <3 aka another character i project my bigenderisms onto

since Jiggy is a character that's meant to be like a contrast to Johnny Bravo in a lot of ways, i had this thought: since Johnny used to be super skinny before he became buff, Jiggy on the other hand used to be fat before he became buff — which was a result of the pressures of being a celebrity. the Bollywood industry isn't very kind to plus-sized people unfortunately. because of this, Jiggy definitely has some body image issues to work through

he doesn't get much sleep due to how busy he always is with his career. has HUGE bags under his eyes as a result, which is the main reason why he wears the sunglasses all the time (which is ALSO another contrast to Johnny, who i HC to have very lively and expressive eyes, whereas Jiggy's is very dull and tired). he gets most of his rest through "power naps."

POPS:

used to serve in the Navy (or maybe some other branch of the military?), and has C-PTSD as a result. he has a pretty scary temper because of this! if angered or under enough stress, he can be prone to violent outbursts. his friend / coworker, Bobo, is usually there to keep him in check whenever this happens.

aroace — except he's old af so he doesn't actually know wtf "asexual" or "aromantic" means so he doesn't really use those terms or anything. he just simply isn't interested in romance or intimacy. never has been! but in his younger years, he did TRY, and just found the hard way that it wasn't for him.

in terms of MY version of Johnny at least, he probably already knows that Johnny is gay / likes men LOL. he has a bet with Bobo about it. by the time Johnny finally comes out to him he's just like "I KNEW IT. BOBO YOU OWE ME $10 YOU SON OF A BITCH I CALLED IT." also he is way too invested in Johnny's love life in general. biggest shipper of Johnny & Carl

SWANSEA:

ok listen. normally i love giving characters queer headcanons at any given opportunity. but Swansea? nah that man is FULLY CISHET bc i think it's funny. he's supportive of queer people of course, but moreso in the "i hate everybody equally" kind of way. if you come out to him he's just gonna be like, "i do NOT give a shit." or that meme that's like "bitch idgaf if you transgender, SWAB THE DECK!!"

[ceilidho]

apocalypse au with the radio thing

poor reader struggling through the apocalypse, finding solace and comfort in talking to the man on the radio

meanwhile he’s down horrendous, already planning to trek out and get you because you’re so soft and fragile :(( you’re not a trained soldier like he is and should be protected!!

Sharing locations just for safety and knowing if something did happen the other had a chance at whatever they had stashed away (definitely not so he could find you)

plan gets accelerated when poor reader has a near death experience, shaky and scared, and he can’t just wait for something more to happen!!

Cue big scary military man showing up on your doorstep, dirty and probably covered in blood and guts, beaming at you because you’re 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, and practically drags you back to where it’s 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦, where you don’t have to worry about what’s happening outside, just keep him happy and he’ll protect you <33

The real conflict of this story is Johnny being insistent that he takes you back with him.

You were more or less content with your set up, even after the near death experience you had (maybe you had to go on a supply run and badly underestimated how many zombies were still in your town) (I imagine in this verse that you're camped out in this cozy little bunker, so you're well hidden, well fortified, you don't really deal with zombies or scavenging humans when you're at home - you're only really in any danger when you go out on supply runs), but Johnny insists that you come back to his base. Isn't willing to take no for an answer. Willing to tie you up and drag you along after him if he has to.