Soap, who when he sees ghost can't help but to smile. He can't stop it. It's an involuntary response. How is he supposed to not smile when he sees the man that makes him so happy every day.
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Bakugou who makes it a habit of FaceTiming you out of the blue because he’s horny. Your friend group and his own have had to bear witness entirely too many times to answering the phone and he’s exposed somehow—they always just wanna say hi, ask him how his recent mission is going. They learn after enough times, that when he FaceTimes you out of the blue, to steer clear of your phone until you give them the okay. there’s just been too many times with you answering and then screaming to the top of your lungs as you clutch the phone to your chest and tell him that there are people around.
but does that stop him? of course not, the little whore. he’ll call you after he’s gotten out the shower, so his body is still wet and glistening. he’ll call you while he’s away in some other country, with his dick in the camera and a pout on his lips because he misses your stupid face. he’ll call when he’s this close to orgasming, because seeing you will always push him over the edge.
he calls you one day while you’re working at home, typing away at your computer, your phone propped up beside you. you answer without looking at him, smiling, asking how everything’s going so far and it’s not until you look up, when you gasp.
“Katsuki!” You yell, a little giggle tearing through your words in surprise. “What if someone was around? Again?” You ask him, but it’s hard to remember why you’re this upset when he looks so pretty in front of you. He grunts, still jerking his cock as he sits on the edge of the bed, his phone propped up on what you believe a nightstand, as you can see the way his stomach curls in from how raggedly he breathed.
“You’re alone, right?” He asks in a huff, eyebrows screwing up as he takes in your wide eyes and slightly gaping mouth as you stare at his form. You nod absentmindedly, already feeling your inner thighs starting to get slick, shifting a little in your seat.
“Show me a tit, or something. I miss you.” Bakugou mutters, eyebrows pinched as he twists his wrist over his tip before he slides back down his shaft.
“When don’t you wanna see my tits?” You tease him, but oblige, lifting your shirt, eyes rolling slightly at the downright filthy noise that leaves his mouth at the sight. You don’t even have to play with them, just sit them on display and he’s already so quick to burst all over himself.
You take it a step further though, pushing back in your chair until he can see most of your body where you sit, slipping out of your bottoms and underwear until you’re on display for him. You put your knees to your chest before settling back, thighs on either side of the arms as you spread yourself, smiling at him all the while.
“So fuckin’—shit!” He sounds damn near strangled as he cums all over himself, eyes squeezed shut as he jerks at his cock. you can’t help but laugh when you hear the crackling of his quirk going off, watch how the sheets beside him char and start to smoke in his intensity. He’s always so easy, you think to yourself with a little laugh as you began to get dressed, and you love it.
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i hate being a mentally ill adult actually. i hate that there’s always groceries to be bought and housekeeping to do and work in the morning i hate that we have no space to feel it all i hate that we walk around acting normal. there are so many people i know who are clearly deeply unhappy with their lives and we make silly little jokes that allude to it but sometimes i want to grab them by the shoulders and scream ‘i know you are miserable!! we can’t keep living like this!! this is why people break!!’ im sick of this drudgerous apathy i want us all to be dramatic like when we were teenagers i want us to sob together and scream bloody murder at each other and tell each other we want to kill ourselves not as a funny post-ironic joke but because we all feel like that sometimes!! i want us to get fucked up on god knows what til we can’t open our eyes i want us to take care of each other instead of always taking care of ourselves i want us to be vulnerable i want us to hold each others hands in the ambulance!!
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in the same vein as that recent terror post. season 2 should have just been crew shenanigans. like yeah we all died and it was horrible but before things got crazy we did some wild shit to keep from being bored
also the episodes should absolutely have the same emotional depth and bandwidth and punch
major points:
-james fitzjames and dundy historically accurate pillowfight
-george hodgson practicing an instrument (woodwind?) and driving the rest of them bananas. maybe people start hiding his clarinet or w/e in increasingly weird hard to find places
- peddie and the ‘where the hell have all of our ointment and oils and lubricants gone’ adventure (spoiler: theyve been used for distinctly nonmedical purposes)
- billy gibson and the stewards versus endless laundry. maybe they have a minor revolt about it
- chefs diggle and chefs wall cookoff contest
- cornelius hickey tries to enjoy his day off and shirking his work only to be roped into stupid menial stuff and unable to escape (jopson et al know what they’re doing)
- irvings watercolors and singing classes keep going terribly wrong
- a day in the life of: Fagin the cat, Neptune the dog, Jacko the capuchin
- please feel free to reblog with your own ideas these are cute to think about
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