#the deep sea doesnt fuck around

[rxttenfish]

this is such a minor gripe but the submersible did NOT experience rapid decompression. it experienced rapid COMPRESSION. at that depth they were under almost 400 atmospheres of pressure. rapid decompression is what makes things explode, rapid compression is what makes them crumple like an empty soda can.

[toastsnaffler]

I SEE PEOPLE ON THE FLOOR SLIDE INTO THE SEA CANT STAY HERE ANYMORE WE'RE TURNING INTO FIENDS IF I STAY HERE TROUBLE WILL FIND ME IF I STAY HERE ILL NEVER LEAVE..... ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[notiddygxthgf]

❛ Talk to me, baby. I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. I-I-I-I-I-I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean. ❜

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: you and choso find a way to beat the heat.

★ c.w.: sexual tension, PWP, porn without plot, happy ending! au?, idk everyone's happy lol, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, cowgirl in the backseat, creampie, blowjobs, choso has mommy issues lowkey, and the reader caters to them lowkey. dom/sub undertones, choso doesnt know how to deal with his horniness lol, old fashioned, nasty ass sex, just read it you'll love it.

★ a/n: hi baby girls!! I have been holding onto this one for a MINUTE bc I wanted to make sure it's perfect. im doin a lil bit of a kinktober, so send those requests in! I hope u all love it as much as I do. bitchz w mommy issues wya???🗣️🗣️

★ w.c.; 8.6k

masterlist

CHOSO LOVED THE BEACH. Not for the reason one might normally proclaim such affection for an otherwise family-friendly pastime, but it was a valid reason nevertheless. He used to hate it, actually, especially when Getou and Mahito would drag him out there on the hottest day of the summer for their stupid villain conventions. He was quite comfortable at home in all of his layers. But there was something about the beach these days, something that had him reconsidering his bias. 

Call him classless, call him perverted. Whatever it was, there was this strange pull towards the beach that had him in a chokehold. He just couldn’t quite place it.

“You’re staring,” Megumi remarked.

Choso’s brow quirked. Letting his head loll to the side, teetering just off the edge of his beach chair, he offered the following words to his brother’s friend. “No, I wasn’t.”

He totally was. The way his sun glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as you walked past the two was a dead giveaway. But, shit, you looked too good to be true. You were this pretty little thing, strutting around in a pretty pink bikini, soaking in the rays of sunlight, and you were bringing a drink to your friend, Maki. Looked like a lemonade. Also looked like booze. It could have been anything, in all honesty, he wasn’t looking there. 

If there was a god out there, he hoped they would forgive him for his ravenous gaze. He had always had a little thing for you, if you will, but the moment you had walked onto the beach today he found himself completely enamored by you.

As you bent down to set the drink in the sand, the bottom of your small pink bikini slipped inward, revealing the smooth, sand-dusted skin of your plump little butt. Then you plopped down on the beach towel next to your friend and popped open the bottle of sunscreen.

Choso watched – rather shamelessly – as you sprayed some of it onto you arm, rubbing it in. You held the canister towards your chest at arms length and released some more of the sheer spray onto the skin there. It trickled down, catching the light of the sun, dripping down between your breasts–

A pair of hairy, pale legs obstructed the view. 

“Found a sand dollar,” Spoke none other than the world’s quirkiest little brother, Yuuji Itadori. In a rather fitting slow-pan up to his face, Choso took note of the dorky goggles that he had popped over his eyes. He was shirtless. You would think that the man would have learned that you don’t need to go deep sea diving at the beach by now. “You guys coming?”

Megumi took the words right out of Choso’s mouth. Or, actually, ‘word’ might be more fitting. 

“No.”

“I’ll pass,” Choso sighed, repositioning his sunglasses over his eyes. Silently, of course, he cursed his brother for putting on such a show in front of – what was he talking about? Choso Kamo… letting his desires cloud his love for his brother? He usually wasn’t this bad. “I thought I threw those out on you?”

“I bought new ones,” Yuuji muttered. He practically tore the goggles from his face, sending locks of pink hair standing up in the air. Tossing them to the side, he plopped between Megumi and Choso on the picnic blanket.

“Of course you did,” Megumi, who had, for a brief – but beautiful – moment been alluded into believing his friend had decided to keep his remarkable lack of social awareness to himself, reached into the cooler they had filled earlier that day and produced a much needed refreshment. 

“Hi!”

Choso, Yuuji and Megumi all turned their heads toward the sound.

It was you. His ‘crush’, as Yuuji had embarrassingly called it. And, shit, you looked even prettier up close. Your hair looked so soft. So did your–

He shook the thoughts away. 

“Sorry to bother ‘ya,” You lowered your head apologetically. You extended your arm out towards the three men. Clutched in your small hand was the bottle of sunscreen you had been using before Yuuji had caught Choso’s attention. “My friend is out cold. Could you just get my back for me?”

Choso felt his face grow red at the mere prospect of being so close to you. He had never had the courage to actually reach out and touch you. He felt as if, for some odd reason he didn’t quite understand, his touch would have killed you. You had always been so sweet to him, offering him small talk, refreshments, and friendly jokes when it was just the two of you away from the group.

“Not a problem, Sensei,” Yuuji replied rather quickly. 

He reached for the bottle. Before he could grab it, Megumi jabbed his elbow harshly into the back of Yuuji’s neck.

“Bitch, ow,” He hissed.

The glare Megumi shot him could have been heard from ten miles away. Choso sighed, refraining from shaking his head.

“I think he’s sick. I’ll bring him to the infirmary,” Megumi added quietly, standing up rather abruptly and taking Yuuji with him. 

Yuuji babbled mindlessly the whole way back.

Highschoolers.

Choso looked back to you. Just you. Alone. He felt his hands get all clammy again. He blamed it on the sun. You were holding the bottle expectantly. 

“Uh… I can… I can help, if you’re okay with that,” He looked away, internally kicking himself for fumbling so hard. 

You only tilted your head at him. Your eyes were so pretty, wide open as they lingered over his body, his eyes, his nose. Your gaze was a wildfire spreading over the expanse of his face.

It was then that he realized he was very, very shirtless.

“‘Kay, thanks,” you smiled softly.

As you laid down on the beach blanket, Choso felt his heart race even faster. He could hardly believe this was all happening – hell, part of him wondered if he had overstepped by offering his services to you. The sun beat down on your skin, his head, the sand – he blamed the warmth flooding his face on the weather. 

You were laid on your stomach only a few inches away, completely oblivious to his moral dilemma. 

He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself while he reached for the bottle of sunscreen you had set onto the blanket beside you. With hands that trembled ever-so-slightly, he uncapped the bottle and squeezed a small amount onto his palm. The sunscreen was cool to the touch – so, not wanting to cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort, he warmed it up between his hands.

He then hesitantly placed his hands on the smooth valley of your upper back. 

You gasped, twitching beneath his palms. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, withdrawing his hands.

“No, sorry,” You sighed, shifting on the blanket and then relaxing once more. “Your hands are cold ‘s all.”

Choso felt the blush coming on all over again. He hoped you wouldn’t turn your head back around and see him like this. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, averting his gaze. 

“You’re all good, hot stuff,” You offered. “You can keep going.”

His face burned like hell at your compliment. He knew you were that way with everyone, dropping little ‘babe’s and ‘honey’s to your friends and fellow sorcerers. He wasn’t anything special, anyway. Surely, you weren’t talking to him.

He replaced his hands on your back, touch delicate like your skin would crack if he pressed too hard. He started with broad strokes, making sure to spread the sunscreen across your skin evenly. His fingers splayed out over your warm, soft skin, moving in circles. He massaged the sunscreen into your back with a tenderness that surprised even himself.

He wasn’t sure what this stuff actually did. He had seen some of Yuuji’s Jujutsu friends slather some on earlier. Judging by the name, he assumed it protected them from the sun. From what, though? Could the sun hurt some humans? He didn’t really understand.

“You’re wondering something,” You asked, seemingly sensing his pensiveness by the way his hands slowed. “Ask away.”

Choso bit the skin on the inside of his lip, “This lotion…” he asked, “What does it do?”

“Sunscreen?” You hummed. “It forms a layer over your skin so you don’t get sunburnt.”

“Sunburnt…” He reiterated. 

“Yeah, that shit hurts,” You added. “I’m guessing Itadori never gave you the run-up on beach necessities…?”

“I guess not,” He remarked quietly.

“I can show you how to apply yours if you want,” You said.

Choso’s heart felt like it would burst. “Okay,” he said, pausing slightly. “I’d like that, thanks.”

Then he was back to his job. His hands smoothed over your back, dipping down a little lower until his thumb brushed against the strap of your bikini. He felt suddenly aware of how soft and warm you felt beneath his touch. 

He was dangerously close to the knot in the string that held your whole getup together. He worried for a moment that the dainty bow would come undone – by some strange, supernatural turn of events – despite him making a great effort to move around it. 

Choso’s breath hitched when his finger caught on the string, making the knot snap against your skin. He froze up, heart pounding in his chest, perfectly still over your body. The string felt like a fragile barrier between your warm skin and his cold touch, between your body and the thoughts that raced through his mind.

He wondered if you found him weird and off-putting. His gaze flickered up to your face, leaning over slightly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. 

But when he looked into your eyes, he found you were looking at him with the same curiosity. You smiled at him, pretty lips forming a reassuring expression, wordlessly encouraging him to keep going. 

Slowly, unsurely, Choso continued his ministrations. He trailed two digits down your spine, stopping at the string. He felt a knot beneath the skin there. He knew sorcerers put themselves through rigorous training. He didn’t doubt that you were feeling sore from the mission you had just come back from a few days ago.

“You’re tense here,” He said quietly.

You turned your head to look at him, “Yeah?” 

“Right here,” He pinpointed the exact area with his knuckles, pressing deep into the tissue. 

In response, you moaned quietly, back shifting beneath his touch. His shorts seemed to get just a little bit tighter. 

Calm down.

“You got magic hands, Choso,” You quipped, though your voice was strained as he passed over the knot a second time. “You could be a masseuse.”

He felt his nerves subside only slightly, though he felt flustered by your words.

You got magic hands.

You could be a masseuse.

Unbeknownst to him, the sensation of his touch created a pleasant tingling beneath your skin. You closed your eyes, letting him take the reins.

Choso continued to work his fingers over your back, feeling the tension slowly melt away beneath his touch. He had used up the last of the sunscreen to cover your lower back, the skin just above your bottom, and he realized his job was done.

“I think that should do it,” He said softly, voice tinged with reluctance as he removed his hands from your back.

You sat up, stretching, turning towards him, eyes sparkling, “Thanks, Cho, you’re a lifesaver.”

You’re a lifesaver.

A shy smile tugged at his lips, “Of course.”

Then, to his surprise, you asked. “You’re sweet. Mind if I sit with you?”

Choso felt his heart skip more than one beat. His eyes widened. He looked at the sand, the shoreline, anything but you. “Sure,” he said.

Smooth, dumbass.

You grinned and pushed yourself up, saying, “I’ll be right back.”

Choso took a moment to collect his thoughts as you left. He was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead of himself. Stll, you had chosen to spend more time with him. You wanted to sit with him. 

Conveniently, only a brief moment after you had stepped away, Megumi returned with Yuuji in tow. Choso quirked a brow at the speed of their return.

“That was quick,” he remarked.

Megumi shrugged, “Took him to get ice cream on the boardwalk instead.”

“You get her number?” Yuuji asked.

“I was doing her a favor,” Choso’s calm facade broke. With wide eyes, he hissed, “Pervert.”

“Dumbass,” Yuuji sucked his teeth.. “Look, tonight’s the night to make a move. When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

And before Choso could respond, you came back, holding a speaker in one hand. “I brought snacks!” You smiled.

Some time around sundown, sometime after Getou had summoned up one of his low-grade curses to start a fire, the beach day transformed itself into a fireside chat. It was a picturesque scene. The sky was a canvas of blue, with hues of pink and orange painted over the horizon. It was mostly empty there, now. The waves lapped calmly at the shore, a quiet noise that seemed to accompany the quiet chatter of friends gathered around a fire.

There was laughter, groups of people indulged in conversations. Everyone seemed so calm, so happy, it almost seemed to good to be true.

Megumi and Itadori were caught in a cock-off with Maki. Nobara stargazing on her and Maki’s beach blanket. Gojo and Getou were talking in his direction, but not necessarily at him.

“I just think you have an unfair drinking advantage because you’re a man,” You were saying just off to Choso’s side.

The mood was light. Everyone seemed to be content. 

Choso, however, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. The warm, fading sunlight seemed to caress your features from the side, highlighting your pretty smile and making your eyes shimmer. He found himself completely and utterly enamored by you.

You and Getou had cracked open a bottle of Tequila about an hour ago. Getou’s boyfriend long-term-long-distance-low-commitment-casual-boyfriend, Satoru Gojo was red in the face, slouched against the bare chest revealed by Getou’s unbuttoned floral shirt. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Gojo chuckled, letting Getou top off his fourth shot of the night.

Getou denied any relationship with Gojo. Their eyes betrayed them, though. The connection was evident in the loving glances they exchanged. 

You had a faint flush of your own, though you had only taken two shots so far.

He tried two of his own, only because you didn’t want to do them alone. He had never been big on drinking. He just didn’t want to seem like a pussy.

“Why don’t you pour me one so we can test that theory?” Nobara nudged you in the side.

Choso watched the scene unfold with mild interest.

“Because you’re a minor,” You said.

Nobara pouted, leaning back onto her blanket. “Not like I’ve never drank before.”

Maki chimed in over her shoulder, “Got vomit stains on my carpet to prove it.”

“Shut up,” She bit back. 

You handled the situation effortlessly. “I don’t condone teen drinking,” You began, your voice softening as you continued, “But. I know the four you will probably go hit up one of those beachside bars tonight with your fake IDs anyway.”

“Fake IDs?” Gojo looked at Megumi out of the corner of his eye. Megumi did not look back.

You clapped. Choso’s ears perked up at the sound.

“That being said!” You raised your voice a bit. “I would rather you drink something less potent. Under adult supervision.”

You turned to Getou and Gojo, who exchanged knowing glances before nodding their approval. Choso couldn’t help but be impressed.

“So who wants a Malibu rum spritzer?” You clasped your hands together.

Excitement rippled through the group, and all of the kids, yes all of the kids, Including Yuuji, eagerly raised their hands. 

Choso shot his brother a disapproving glare, one that dissipated the moment you leaned in, laying your head on his shoulder. Your voice, soft and smooth like your skin, enticed him as you sing-songed, “Let the kid live a little.”

It was rather remarkable, actually, how quickly his defenses melted at your gentle persuasion. He sighed in resignation. “Alright.”

You grinned up at him, effortlessly stealing his breath away. 

“Great,” you said, getting up from your spot without another word. “I’ll go get them from my car. Don’t wait up for me, I walk real slow.”

Turning your attention back to Choso, you looked at him with a warmth behind your gaze he couldn’t quite place. “Choso, sweetie, could you help me carry the cooler?”

His heart soared at your request – at the prospect of you wanting his assistance. He got to his feet quickly, eager to help. 

The sand felt cool beneath his feet as he followed your lead. 

The moon hung low in the sky as you and Choso strolled through the parking lot, searching for your jeep. The temperature had dropped quite a few notches from earlier, cold breeze rustling through Choso’s hair. 

When you spotted your ride, you said, “There it is!”

Choso followed wordlessly behind you. He was still quite nervous that – for the second time today – it was just you and him… alone. Yuuji’s words echoed through his mind.

“When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

You popped the door to the backseat open, sitting on the floor – your truck was raised a bit off the ground, so it didn’t put you too far below him. 

“My legs are so fucking sore,” You sighed. You dusted your leg off with the backside of your bare foot. When you peered up at him through those long, dense lashes of yours, he felt himself fall for you a second time. 

You asked him, “Mind if we take a little break?”

Choso nodded along like the dumb little dog he was for you.

You pushed yourself up and away from the truck, gesturing for him to get inside. It didn’t take much at all for him to step into it and take a seat. You settled in right next to him – perhaps a little closer to Choso than was strictly necessary. He couldn’nt help the pleasant shiver that went down his spine at the feeling of you sitting next to him; so warm, so soft, so perfect.

You let out a contented sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder once more. “I got tired of bein’ social,” You confessed.

He tried hard not to quirk a brow at the admission. Am I an exception?

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked sincerely. He tried even harder to ignore the warm weight of your small head on his shoulder.

So close.

“No,” You hummed quietly. The interior light faded away, gently submerging the two of you in darkness. He could still see your face, your eyes – the way they seemed to sparkle as they looked up at him. “You’re different.”

Choso’s heart took the liberty of skipping one, two, three beats. 

You continued without allowing him time to come up with an adequate response. “Can I be honest with you, Choso?”

His cheeks flushed. Still, curiosity piqued, he muttered, “Of course.”

Your voice was soft and vulnerable when you replied, “I think you’re really hot.”

If his face wasn’t hot, it sure was now. He turned away even though he knew you couldn’t see him blushing. 

She thinks I’m hot?

Does that mean she likes me?

You had nothing but sincerity in your eyes while you gazed up at him. “You feel the same way, don’t you?”

He bit his tongue, answering honestly, “I do.”

He hated how calm and collected he sounded. On the outside, he was the image of composure. On the inside, he was dying a hundred times over. 

You grinned at his admission. “Can I ask you something else, then?”

His lips suddenly felt very dry. He tried his best to focus on the street outside, counting landmarks and objects like his life depended on it – two seagulls, five wooden posts, two dim street lights.

“Sure,” he said.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

And, dammit, when you asked him like that – he could practically feel the last of his resolve crumble beneath your gaze, beneath the weight of your head on his shoulder, beneath your gentle touch on his knee that he hadn’t noticed until now.

You were so close. So close that if he turned his head, angled it down just slightly, your noses would touch. He felt your breath, warm and steady against his neck – a calming symphony that contrasted the trembling mess he had become,

Yuuji’s words played on repeat again. Tonight’s the night to make a move.

He was such a fool for you. Still, he considered himself to be a man of restraint.

His voice was small and scarce, hardly above a whisper when he breathed out, “Yeah.”

Time seemed to slow down as your request hung out in the air. He could feel the anticipation building, buzzing. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a mallet to a gong. He had spent months wondering what would happen if you – by some odd, small chance – returned his affections, and now, with your vulnerability laid bare, he couldn’t resist any longer.

He considered himself to be a man of restraint, that was, until he peered into your wide, longingful eyes. 

With a barely noticeable nod, Choso turned his head just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. Just as he had anticipated, your noses brushed together – he could feel the warmth of your breath on his lips. 

You were magnetic.

And in that final, heart-pounding moment, your lips met in the middle – in a gentle, tender union. Choso’s hand seemed to find its own way to your cheek, touch soft as he cupped your cheek. He felt for some odd reason that you might vanish altogether if he let you go.

He wasn’t entirely sure if it had been you or him who deepened the kiss. Either way, he felt himself melt into the seat. The world outside seemed to fade away, ceasing to exist in your presence. None of it mattered – not the empty, public street, not the group of friends waiting on the beach for his return.

Yuuji. 

Choso pulled away with a shuddering gasp, pressing his forehead against yours. He licked his lips, panting, “The drinks… We– we should probably– uh… get those.”

He feared that if his heart beat any faster he would explode.

You made no effort to put any distance between you and him. In fact, you put your hands on his shoulders, moving yourself so that you were situated comfortably in his lap. 

“There’s no rush,” You hummed. “Getou and Gojo are probably off sucking face somewhere, and those kids have been keeping themselves entertained just fine. Who would notice?”

His eyes were everywhere but your face. For a half-curse, he found himself to be no better than a man, hungry eyes wandering over your body – your eyes, your lips, the subtle curve of your waist, the fabric of your bikini that seemed like it was hugging you just right.

You seemed to have caught him in the act. 

“Do you wanna touch me, Choso?” You asked, and it sounded like an invitation.

Still, he worried he was reading too deeply into things. Doing his best to refrain from making you feel any sort of discomfort, he swallowed, “I…”

He was about to fucking explode – both metaphorically and physically, judging by the way his shorts began to tighten again at your words.

“You think I didn’t see you staring today?” You continued, letting your fingers slip into his hair. 

He wanted to freeze up, wanted to feel some form of remorse, but when you were massaging his scalp so gently, so lovingly…

“I’m  sorry,” he lied.

“Don’t be,” You giggled, and he felt his stomach do a fucking flip at the sound of it. You leaned in close to him, close to his ear, and whispered into it, “I was staring, too.”

He felt like such a virgin, thighs tensing up at your admission. He thought of you on the beach again – sneaking sideways glances at him, at his body, at him…

He felt his resolve break when you pressed a soft kiss to the shell of his ear. 

“Kiss– Kiss me again,” he breathed, feeling slightly lightheaded from all of the attention you were giving him. You placed another kiss to the corner of his jaw. “Please… kiss me again.”

You pulled away, pressing your nose right up against his again. Your breaths were shallow and ragged now – strange. “You want me, baby boy?”

Baby boy. Baby boy, fuck.

He licked his lips, “Please.”

And then your lips were on his without so much as another word. You ate him up like a starved woman, teeth nipping at his lower lip for entry.

The last of his restraint flew out the window.

The kiss was electrifying, sent sparks shooting through his veins, fingertips tingling as they found their way to your hips. It was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He could taste you – the sweetness of your lipgloss as it smeared messily over the lower half of his face, the beat of your heart thrumming beneath his touch, the scent of sunscreen that lingered on your skin.

He found himself getting lost in the moment.

He deepened the kiss further, gripping your hips, your lower back with a bit more confidence. For a moment, he could forget about his responsibilities, his past. It didn’t matter; not now, not when he could feel your body pressed up against him, hot and soft and compliant.

His face burned when he felt that familiar tingling feeling – he knew he was getting hard beneath you, he could feel the way your hips lifted when you adjusted yourself over the tent in his shorts. 

However, to his surprise, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing yourself even closer. He felt dizzy, sliding his tongue across your wet lips, exploring your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his touseled black locks, rolling your hips against his slowly, hesitantly, like you were testing the waters. 

The jolt of electricity he felt from that small movement had him pulling away. Even in the midst of the fervor, Choso was acutely aware of his own impulses. He feared he was getting too far ahead of himself; if you kept rubbing yourself against him like that, he was gonna cream his fucking pants like a middle schooler.

“Wait, wait– ah–” He grunted, leaning back against the seat.

“Hmm?” You hummed – still, you only slowed down a little bit.

His mouth hung open. It felt so good, the friction, the feeling of your warmth rolling up and down the thin layer of fabric separating the two of you. Fuck — why did he tell you to stop, again?

He fought hard to regain his composure. “I– I’ve never done this before,” he stammered.

“Really?” You asked, teasingly, almost, like you knew the effect you had on him. You rutted up against him again, a little harder. “You’re a natural.”

He could feel you – the thin cloth covering your nether regions left little to the imagination. You felt so warm, so welcoming. He ached to pull the thin fabric to the side and sink into you.

Fuck. Stop. He turned his head away, at war with his impulses.

Again, for a half-curse, he felt like nothing more than a man. A weak man, and it was all your fault.

The whine that left his mouth felt anything but natural. “Won’t– What if someone sees us?”

You said nothing. When he looked back at you, you were undoing the knot behind your head – the one holding your bikini together.

His eyes went wide. If his attraction to you were any more obvious, his jaw would have been on the floor. 

“Let them watch,” You grinned. Then you let your top fall over, breasts spilling out like something out of a porno. 

He was in awe. You were perfect. There were little bits of sand stuck to the skin where your bikini lay only seconds prior, faint tanlines already forming over your skin. He felt his mouth water.

“You can touch them, if you want,” You answered his unasked question.

And he wasted no time, gently cupping one of your tits with his large, warm palm. He gave it an experimental squeeze. Then another. Then his thumb wandered down to your nipple, giving the bud a gentle flick.

You whind, hand sliding up the back of his head. 

She likes that, he noted.

So, deciding to take his experiment a step further – and for the sake of conserving time, he began peppering kisses to your hot skin, to the valley between your soft, plush mounds. He held both in his hands, rolling his thumb over the hardened buds to compensate for the lack of attention.

He wanted nothing more than to take his sweet, precious time with you – committing every curve and valley of your body to memory. But, alas, he knew you were on a time crunch. Any minute now, someone could find the two of you here, like this.

He kissed his way back over to his hands. Then, finally, he wrapped his lips around that place he knew made you feel good. 

Sure enough, you arched into him, pink, swollen lips parting to release a pant of his name, “Choso, baby.”

He flattened his tongue over the tip of your nipple, rolling over it in slow circles – then quicker ones, until he felt the spit gathering between his lips and your skin. You responded in kind by rutting against him a little faster. He had never felt a burn quite so delightful in his life.

He can’t quite help himself from letting out a little whine when you tug on his hair. The flavor of sunscreen and salt lingered on your skin. He felt hot– you were hot, oh so hot.

Before he could return the favor on the other nipple, you pushed him away. You looked disheveled, pupils blown wide, hair frizzed up.

“Y’feel so big,” You gasped, still humping his hard cock like a dog in heat. You stopped, but only to sink into the space between his legs and the back of the driver’s seat. Splaying your fingers over his thighs, his shorts, you panted, “Wanna taste. Can I?”

He could only blink up at you. This isn’t real.

“Of course, baby,” He replied, throwing the nickname from earlier back at you, already reaching for the strings of his swim trunks when you batted his hands away. Your enthusiasm made his head spin.

He let you take the reigns – watching with hungry, lustful eyes as you undid the bow yourself. You reached for the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down and letting his dick spring free. 

It nearly hit you in the face, how big the thing was. He had never actually thought about it that way, at least, not until now, when you were gazing up at it with wide eyes and wet, parted lips. 

Your eyes were on his tip, glistening with a bead of precum, then wandering down the shaft as the two of you watched it drip.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

You didn’t bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.

Choso exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – he thought he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and he didn’t really think he would mind testing that theory.

His skin was hot. He burned for you.

You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. He felt himself throb in your mouth.

“Fuck, ‘s good,” He heard himself whimper weakly, tangling a trembling hand in your hair while you picked up the pace.

And you went at it like you were made for it. Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Over and over again, until his vision blurred a bit at the edges, mind a little hazy with lust.

You were sucking and slurping on him so lewdly – fuck, he could die like this. 

You didn’t show any signs of stopping, either.

He moaned – much to his embarrassment – actually moaned. You were working him rather quickly up to what he knew would be an earth shattering (albeit poorly timed) orgasm. 

You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that he didn’t even mind.

Choso caressed the side of your face, biting his lip. “Mmh,” he panted, “You do it so well.”

In response, you put a hand over his. You directed his gentle touch to the top of your head, instructing him to push down. Hesitantly, gently, he began to guide your head, bobbing you back and forth on his length while you sat back and let him use you. 

He noticed that you were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth. He saw that there were tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but he knew you were determined. He used his thumb to wipe your tears away, tucking your hair behind your ears to keep it out of your face.

With a shudder and a whine, he pushed your head down a little further. You gagged on it again, swallowing him down, tightening your throat around him like you were made to suck dick.

If this was to be his last night alive, he would die a happy man.

His legs felt weak, as did his arms. You took over, gently assisting him in fucking your mouth. 

“Ah– nnh, you’re–” He licked his lips, guiding your head while allowing you to continue setting your own pace. You were making him feel so good, so hot.

You pulled back for a moment to slurp unceremoniously on his tip, letting spit drip down his shaft. You wrapped your hands around him, working what you couldn’t fit into your mouth while your tongue did tricks on his tip – circles, shapes, letters, he didn’t even know anymore.

He felt like he was going dumb.

Just as he leaned his head back into the seat, you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Got carried away,” You giggled breathlessly. “Sorry.”

Then you were climbing right back into his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders, kissing him with a ravenous hunger. 

“I’m not gonna blue ball you, don’t worry,” You licked your lips. Reaching down, you slipped the fabric of your bikini thong to the side. “I want you.”

“H–...” He trailed off, fighting to catch his breath – better yet, to regain his surroundings. “How do you want me?”

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel you sink down onto him, to feel your warmth envelop him entirely. He wanted you to ride him past the point of hypersensitivity. He wanted you to use him until you were satisfied – like some sort of fuck toy.

He didn’t care anymore. He had left his inhibitions at the door. 

“Wanna fuck you right here, like this,” You muttered against his lips, licking a stripe from his chin all the way to his cupid’s bow. You guided the head of his dick between your folds, smearing your slick all over him in a way that made him arch up. “Wanna drain that pretty cock of yours, wanna cum all over it– can you do that for me?”

You were so nasty… so dirty that he found himself a red, blushing mess at your words. But, still…

For you?

Anything.

“Yes,” he groaned. He felt like he was going to melt if he waited another moment longer. “Fuck, please, use me until you’re satisfied.”

He hadn’t even thought about saying it. It had slipped out.

You paused, blinking down at him with wide, lustful eyes. Finally, you said, “you’re such a good puppy, you know that?”

He would be whatever the hell you wanted him to be.

“G’nna let me ride you, pretty boy?” You cooed, sliding your hands up his torso, up his bare chest, up his shoulders while you hovered over him. 

This was moving quickly. Not like he had any objections to that, of course. Clearly, you didn’t either. As you positioned the tip in line with your dripping cunt, sinking down onto him, he felt his eyes roll back into his head.

He gasped, letting his eyelids fall shut. He didn’t even care that he was losing his virginity in the backseat of his coworker’s truck like some cheap whore. He would let you take it, take more, take everything you wanted from him.

You lifted your hips and then sank down on him again, eliciting a strangled grunt of your name from him. The filthy squelching sound your cunt made as it squeezed him in threw him for a loop.

He leaned forward, shivering, burning his head in your neck. “S’too tight,” he panted, though he let you continue working on him with a remarkable amount of ease – sliding back and forth in a way that had the both of you panting for more. “Fucking– shit, ah–”

“Chosooo– ‘S so big,” You moaned his name like it was made of honey, fucking yourself down onto his dick, letting all of the sinful noises flow from your lips. “Fuck, feel it in my guts.”

He would have thought you were lying to him if it weren’t for your spectacle earlier.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathed. When he looked up at you again, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. You were the image of pornographic beauty – sinful, beautiful, sultry. Your brows were scrunched together with concentration, legs trembling around him as you slowed down to savor the way he worked you open.

“Pretty baby,” He mused, running his hands over your stomach, your hips. “You keep goin’ like that ‘n– fuck– I won’t– Last long.”

“Mmh,” you giggled.

Then you picked up the speed a bit, like you hadn’t even heard what he had just said. You were rising and sinking on his dick with newfound purpose, chasing after the promise of paradise like a wild animal.

“Look at me,” he begged, eyes half-lidded and desperate, tongue running across his lower lip. “Fu-uck– please, ‘M...”

You obeyed, meeting his gaze with such a fiery passion that he almost wished he hadn’t asked you – feeling that coil in his gut grow a little tighter when your hazy eyes were on him. You bounced obediently on his cock, up and down, up and down until you were a grunting, groaning mess. 

“Mm… fuckkk,” You sighed, hips faltering a bit. “Feels good, Choso.”

Choso felt his hips twitch beneath you, hands tensing on your backside. Then, slowly, he began to meet your thrusts midway. His ass lifted off of the seat, legs spreading a bit further apart while he used his strength to continue fucking you senseless.

He was mesmerized by you, by the way you clenched and squeezed him, by the way your mouth lolled open to make way for broken cries of his name, by the way your tits bounced in his face whenever he thrusted up into you.

He worried for a moment that he was being too harsh with you. 

“Harder– please!” You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, at his chest.

Still, he obeyed. He fucked you dumb, hips snapping up against your ass with such strength that the whole car lurched forward. Your head came dangerously close to the ceiling.

But he didn’t have the guts to stop. Not when you were screaming for him, repeating his name like some sort of mantra. He was as weak for you as he had always been.

“Choso– Choso–”

The feeling of your warm, wet walls massaging the head of his cock had him whimpering into the crook of your neck. It was a hot, gummy abyss he wouldn’t mind getting sucked into for the remainder of his life. 

“You like that?” He asked you, spare hand sliding up from your hips, past your breasts, to your neck. 

He knew now that you liked it rough. He could provide that. 

So, with no further warning, he gripped your hip roughly, sliding into you at full force. You cried out his name again, fingernails digging into his skin. 

The car bounced every time he pounded up into you. Faster, faster. 

It felt like you were squeezing him for dear life. 

Choso cried out, a broken whine as he slowed his thrusts for a minute to a much slower pace. Feeling your perfect pussy clenching around him, he nearly doubled over from the sudden pleasure. “Please,” he gasped, laying his head back. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You bit your lip, sliding up until it was just the tip left inside of you, and then slamming back down onto him at full force. You repeated this action a few more times, lips parted to make way for the sinful… sultry moans that passed from between them. Clearly, you were relishing in the way he squirmed and gasped beneath you.

He couldn’t blame you. He knew that he, too was doing everything he could to commit this scene to memory, wild eyes raking over your body, over the junction where you met him. The way you were riding him… shit, he didn’t know he would be able to make the walk back. 

You looked so obscene like this, all fucked out, dumb on his dick.

Throwing your head back, you groaned.

He was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Fuck, he knew that– cursed strength and all. But he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

“So f-fucking good,” he stammered. He sought out your lips again, snapping his hips up against your ass mercilessly. For someone who had been so concerned about being discovered a little while ago, his quiet grunts and gasps turned into moans and whimpers against your sore lips. Louder and louder.

Admittedly, though, he was more focused on the noises coming out of your own mouth. You were practically screaming for him.

He had no idea that sex could even feel so mind-numbingly good. For him, especially, but for you…?

You froze up rather suddenly, hips spasming wildly, toes curling up on either side of his thighs while you gasped brokenly. 

“FUCK!”

There it was.

He felt his face burn. You cried his name again, bouncing up and down on it, wildly chasing after that high. “Choso– m’close–”

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” He hummed, once again throwing your nickname back at you. He grinned, knowing full and well that he had cracked the code. So he kept that same speed, same pace, same everything while his fingers dropped from your neck to the mess you had made between the two of you.

He knew what to do now – surprisingly enough. He had done some… internet research after his brother had broken the meaning of his feelings down to him (along with what Choso was to do when his crush came to fruition). 

What? Curses didn’t make love. Sex was transactional.

He was curious about how sex was on the human side of things.

He ran his tongue over his thumb, reaching between the steamy, sweaty union of your bodies to find your clit. He pressed down, rolling over the nub in quick, expert circles. 

One look up at you, and he knew you were close to your breaking point. You looked like you were about to pass out, letting yourself be thrown around on his wild hips like a ragdoll. You were too weak to move, so you sat there and took his dick like a good girl, eyes glazed over with pleasure while he fucked you dumb.

You looked like you were in love.

Choso sped his ministrations over your clit up a little faster, feeling the knot in his own stomach begin to grow faster than he wanted. He was in another world, out of this plane, hypnotized. 

All he could see in that moment was your angelic face above him, face scrunched up in pleasure – and partially in pain, as he bullied his cock into your cervix – sweat rolling down your neck, your breasts, your voluptuous body.

“Mine–” You gasped out, clawing at his shoulder blades while your back arched. “Oh– fuck! Th’s dick ‘s mine, mmh?”

It was.

He nodded. But, clearly, that wasn’t good enough. Your hand shot out to grip him by the neck, painted fingernails digging into his throat. 

“‘S yours,” He gasped back into your mouth. “All yours, I swear– ah–”

You were so hot. It made him feel things– feel like he was dying over and over again in the best way possible.

That along with the way your hand gripped his throat – using your small thumb to cut off his blood supply for a few seconds too long before loosening your grip, letting him gasp for air as the blood came rushing back – he felt lightheaded.

The way your pussy was spasming around him certainly didn’t do anything to help. He knew you were close, shit, but could you hold on a minute?

You were gonna make him cum too fast.

“You’re mine, yeah?” You asked again, keeping your grip strong on his neck. “All mine?”

“M’yours,” The cursed womb grunted against your neck. His brows were furrowed in concentration. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave marks. “All yours.”

He meant it. Even though he would have said anything you asked him to at this point, he really meant it. He hoped you knew that.

Judging by the way you came a moment later with a stutter of your hips and a strangled cry of, “Cho–”, he assumed you understood. 

Your cunt was a warm, wet, death trap, walls milking his cock for all it was worth. 

Shit, he thought. You really weren’t lying about that.

His dark eyes were burning into yours, burning with a desire so intense he felt he might burst at the seams if he kept looking a moment longer. 

“Want you to cum inside of me,” You commanded him, holding his head in your trembling hands. “Fill me up, please, I need it.”

His eyes widened, blinking down at the white ring you had made around the base of his dick. His eyes flitted back up to you, pleading with you to let him go. Pleading for you to give the soul that you stole from him back,

“I can’t–” he released a trembling breath.  

He thought of himself as a father raising a child. Right now, it didn’t seem so bad.

“Please, ‘m on the pill,” you begged him, gazing into his eyes like you knew he wasn’t strong enough to refuse. “Wanna feel it dripping out of me. Think about it– what– ah– what would they think? … If they knew–”

You gasped when he delivered a harsh smack to your ass, slowing his strokes so that he could savor the way you sucked him in. “If they knew we snuck off to fuck? That– that I had your cum dripping out of me while they ask what took us so long?”

“Fuckk,” Choso groaned, hips trembling beneath you. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks burning. His breaths – and yours – had fogged the windows up.

You squeezed around him one more time, placing a tender kiss to his lips. You muttered into his mouth, “Do it f’me… please, Choso.”

“Mmh–!” And that was all it took. Choso rolled his hips up into you one more time, twitching, whining, feeling your warmth spasm around him as he spilled into you. He drove as deep up into you as he could – holding onto you for dear life while the coil snap, and he came so hard that his legs gave out. Lots of it. 

So much that he felt it drip out.

You sought another kiss from him, sealing your lips together. When you pulled away, you giggled, “Good boy. Good puppy.”

“God,” he shuddered, falling back against the headrest once his orgasm subsided. You fell against his chest, snuggling up to him.

And Choso, not knowing what else to do, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. To his surprise, you didn’t immediately leave him in the dust. Instead, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of your post-coital bliss. 

You broke the silence after a minute or two. 

“So…” You began, trailing a finger up his bare chest. “Help me carry that cooler back to the beach?”

And Choso, breathless, felt himself begin to laugh.

The two of you came back onto the beach. Choso was carting the cooler behind while you walked ahead, waving your friends down. 

As you approached, Itadori remarked with crossed arms, “The hell have you guys been?” His hair was done up into two, pink, little pigtails. It was clear as day that Nobara had a hand in his current hairstyle.

“Oh!” You had grinned rather awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “We– Well, we realized we didn’t have as many spritzers as I thought. Had to make a run to the liquor store.”

Itadori raised a brow. Still, if he noticed something, he didn’t say anything about it. “Uh huh.”

Choso bent down to set the cooler onto the ground, back turned to the group.

Getou peeped up from his paperback novel, lips twitching at the sight of Choso’s back. He nudged his counterpart, Gojo.

Who nearly spat out his drink.

You sat on the beach blanket nearest to Gojo and Getou. The moment your butt hit the sand, you practically collapsed into the ground. 

You could feel eyes on you. So, begrudgingly, you rolled over, throwing Satoru a weak glare. “What?”

He only nodded towards Choso.

You turned around, following his gaze. It settled over his back. He bent down, picking a few spritzers out of the ice. It was then that you noticed the harsh red claw marks on his shoulderblades. 

Subconsciously, your gaze drifted down to your hips, to the skin where purple imprints of Choso’s fingertips stood out as clear as day.

You gasped, then, clamping a hand over your mouth.

“So,” Gojo began casually, handing you a shot. He leaned in, ocean blue eyes twinkling as he teased you, “Was he gentle? He seems like he would give it rough.”

You turned to his not-boyfriend, brows furrowed. “Suguruuu…”

It was with no great amount of satisfaction that Getou looked up from his novel. “Satoru,” he sighed languidly. “Not in front of ths kids.”

Gojo ignored his not-boyfriend’s remark. “Was it big?”

You sank back into the blanket, feeling the heat of your embarrassment burn your cheeks as your words from earlier came back to bite you in the ass.

Who would notice?

a/n: hello there my precious little sugarplums! I hope u enjoyed the first installment of my kinktober writings ( which will prob continue throughout the fall bc I started hella late ). send in requests! there's no part two to this, but I would write one if enough ppl requested it. yk the drill though, comment ur thoughts/wishes below! I love reading them. reblogs are alway always always appreciated bc my reach is ass on Tumblr...

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

credits: cover artist(s) unknown??, dividers: @bpdier, @cafekitsune

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @mindurownbussines , @hearts4sid , @simplefools , @ynjimenez

wanna join the taglist? | like this story? read more! | requests open!

[wonbin-truther]

˚⊹ ᰔೀ dream boyfriend: incoming ˚⊹ ᰔೀ ╰┈➤ mysterious figure

the music from the large frat house could be heard down the block as you pulled up in soobin's friends 5 seater that you all had managed to squeeze 8 people into. as soon as his friend, who you learned was named yeonjun, put the car into park you opened the door. sua was quick to jump off your lap, stretching as you got out behind her.

"wheres san?" yuqi asked, getting out behind you. "dont know. i texted him but he didnt answer," you checked your phone lock screen again but there was still no response. yeonjun clapped his hands together, making you all look up and towards him, "alright everyone. meet me back here at 12am. anyone who doesnt gets a 15 min grace period before i leave. beomgyu please remember this" chimes of 'okays' and 'sounds good' came from the group.

jaemin was right when he said the party was packed wall to wall. mark pushed through the groups of people, occasionally stopping to say hi and thank them for their congratulations on the game. in the kitchen yangyang stood there handing out a box of hard seltzers. "hey dude," yangyang dapped up mark who returned the greeting. "hey dude. good turn out tonight," mark took a white claw from the box, cracking it open. "all thanks to you bro. congrats on the game. you were killer out there," yangyang grinned. "thanks. you know had some people out there watching who i had to impress," mark took a sip of the drink he held in his hand.

the shots you had taken out of beomgyu's bottle of tequila were starting to mix in with the joint you were passing around outside with san, wooyoung, and a girl who you learned was named yena. "did you know that if you took mount everest and dropped it in the marianas trench it would still be a mile under the sea," you told yena who was intensely focused on you. "no way," yena gasped. you nodded, a huge smile on her face. before you could get another fact out a man walked up to your circle, "you got room for one more?" san handed the blunt to him as he got seated between you and wooyoung.

"kill it," you handed the end of the blunt to the man sitting next to you as wooyoung worked on rolling another. the man happily obliged, taking it from between your fingers. "you know we never got your na-," san started speaking but was cut off by you jumping up. even if you were cross faded out of your mind, the intro to rich baby daddy was something you would never miss. "i love this song," you jumped up and down. you leaned down to grab onto sans hands to pull him up, "please come dance with me please please please." "but the blunt," your friend whined. "fuck the weed please san," you begged. "ill go with you. i love this song too," the other man who had joined stood up. only now that he was also standing next to you did you realize how he towered over you and how fine he was. before san could intervene you had already grabbed the other males bigger hands in yours and started running inside.

mark was a few shots in and was sitting on the couch, most of the soccer team and his friends sat around. "oh dont look now," jeno nudged him and motioned his head a little in front of them. mark instantly recognized your figure dancing up on a male he couldnt quite recognize even though his figure seemed oddly familiar. the jealousy settled deep in his stomach as everything went fuzzy. he wanting nothing more but to push that guy away front you and give him a piece of his drunken mind. he was so lost in thought he didnt feel a weight slide onto his lap and arms wrap around his neck. it wasnt until he heard jisung gag did he look at the body on top of him. "hey somi," mark's hands found a grip on her waist.

you scoffed as you looked at whatever was happening between mark and your cousin. "what happened beautiful?" the guy leaned down to your ear so that you could hear him over the pounding music. "nothing," you said, accidentally making sudden eye contact with mark over the guys shoulder. mark was the first to break the staring contest when somi leaned down, pulling him into what seemed like a heated kiss. "that bastard," you practically screamed out of shock. "wh-," you pulled the male down, crashing your lips into his before he could get the sentence out.

"get a room," chenle tossed a pillow that hit somi square in the back. somi turned around to glare at chenle who just gave her a grin. she rolled her eyes as she stood up, grabbing marks hand to pull him up and guide him upstairs.

"should i call an uber?" the man asked. your hands had found its way to his hair in the bedroom upstairs. you nodded, connecting your lips with his as he held you firmly on his lap. he kissed back but was quick to pull away. you kissed his jawline and neck as he quickly opened the uber app, pressing in his dorm address and ordering it. he let out an airy moan as you started sucking on a spot on his neck. "mm as much as im enjoying this the uber will be here in 5 min."

if only you paid more attention on the stairs, you and mark would have spotted each other as you walked out of the room and he walked in.

previous - main - next

synopsis! it wasnt your fault mark was the first profile to appear on your instagram! and it was most definitely not your fault when you told your annoying older cousins that mark lee, the captain of your unis soccer team, was your boyfriend and somehow got him invited to the next family reunion...

tags! @haedgaf @onlyhyunjin @yumjsss @mmjhh1998 @nctrawberries @multifandomania @hyuoonp @kittydollzz @bathilda @413ktz @alethea-moon @meowmarkie @dojaejunging @morkiee @urlocalbeaner5 @nanaxwi @lvrholic @sunghoonsgfreal @jakeshuneybby @nosungluv @evilsailorsenshi @calumsfringe @candied-czennie @haesungie @tommina @woonagi-lemon @jovialdelusionbouquet @soheendo @vantxx95 @markeroolee @soobsung @tynlvr

[calp0sa]

Favorite Headcanons for airy?

i have like 10 million headcanons for him but i’ll list as many as i can from the top of my head

-hes autistic LIKE ME!!! and is specifically very autistic about music (like meee) i like to think he had a huge collection of vinyls cds cassettes etc and its all stuff from the 60s to the early 90s. no doubt he had a bunch of posters for his favorite bands and musicians too. and hes awesome on the guitar, great rhythm guitarist… its a shame he couldn’t make his talent a profession like he once dreamed of doing. oh well, at least the number 1 perk of trucking is that its peaceful and you dont really have to interact with many people! plus trucks have radios, and cd players, so airy would often bring along a few albums to listen to as he drove those long days and nights.

-hes also got a knack for aquatic creatures (LIKE ME) of course, being a literal fish monster himself (cool fact my airy design is like actually a fish monster he can breathe underwater and everything and his limbs are covered in fish scales) airy loves fish both as friends and food. hes particularly fond of freshwater fish, which makes sense considering the fact he grew up around the swamps of louisiana (yes im making him louisianan Like Me shaddap) hes also fond of those fucked up looking deep sea creatures, just so fascinating. i think airy liked to do a little fishing in his spare time. And hes awesome at cooking em but fair warning for those with a low spice tolerance… he loves spicy food btw (like meeeee)

-when airy was in the forest, he kept a log of his thoughts on the computer, in an attempt to hopefully give himself whatever clarity he could. the notes ranged from all brief, to desperate, to hopeless, to spiraling, to borderline dadaist poetry? to insanity, to denial, to whatever, really i think his mind was obviously all over the place on a daily basis. things must have been pretty loud for him, that cassette player was probably one of the only things keeping him together, before he numbed himself n all, which is around the time he ceased writing these notes as he saw no point in doing so.

-ok enough about him suffering we’ll get back to that later Airy’s favorite drink is ginger ale i mean look at that guy and tell me he doesnt fw ginger ale or dr pepper are you kidding me. he can have dr pepper as a little treat (too much soda is bad for anyone especially if youre an old feller like airy) speaking of little treats i like to think he has an insatiable sweet tooth LIKE MEEEE and his favorite treaaats are pumpkin pie, macarons and practically anything chocolate he loves chocolate (im like allergic to not projecting onto my favorite characters if you couldnt tell) maybe airy knows how to bake a little bit i mean he is an object show host after all

-this is oddly specific but airy is a chronic pain warrior #JUSTLIKEME so when he was in the forest he’d make like home made heating pads by wetting a glob of moss and putting it against his face while he had his flame on (he sometimes put it on a plank over a bonfire if he felt like it) this was a bit tricky when he broke his face but im sure he managed he always manages (kinda) (relatively speaking)

-well anyway we’re back to the forest and i just mentioned his broken face So you know how he disappeared for seven months after he did that lol well what if it was because the pain and shock from that incident evoked the long lost clarity he’d been so stubbornly avoiding in order to cling on to his meaningless, fallacious escapism which triggered him and sent him into a state of agonizing self consciousness, reminding him of his earthly death, how he used to be Someone, and how he essentially let himself rot into what is now an empty shell of who he once was. after so many years, the first reflection he saw of himself was seen in something broken; shards of glass, of which he couldn’t stand to look at… as there is nothing comparable to the pain of revelation, the burden of truth after having been so lost and festered into the stagnant waters that surround you. he felt he had no choice, he disposed of the shards into the nearby stream. those seven months were not just a matter of physically healing, but as a means to losing himself all over again.

-Aaaanyway i think airy had a cat at some point in his life i think we can all agree hes a cat person right!!! he had a tortoiseshell kitty named goose and he loved her very much. idk why he named her goose he probably just thought it was funny to name an animal after a different animal.

-OH YEAH lemme bring amelia into this listen i am such a huge fan of the theory of airy being related to amelia so i like to think hes her uncle!! when amelia was little she’d stay over at airy’s house while her parents were away and he’d teach her stuff like how to fish, how to ward off snakes, how to kayak, all that jazz cuz he was an awesome uncle. she was kinda like an actual daughter to him. and amelia was so fond of sunny weather as a child, one dayy at airy’s house she had to stay inside because it was too rainy, so she occupied herself by drawing a little picture of the way she wished earth was; always sunny, sky always blue, grass always green, huh! the way she drew that grass as individual little triangles is all too familiar is it not…

OK I HAVE SOMEWHERE 2 GO now i’ll probablt add more later But thank u so much for asking this i love love love infodumping about anything airy related i heart airy

[opal-owl-flight]

Agents agents agents + a couple of ocs! I remembered that my cephalopods come in many patterns so I decided to explore that!

Notes abt patterns below-

Cap3: has many scars, most have healed. Though some of the sanitation effects remain around their wrists and hands, as well as their tentacles... their left eye is almost blind.

Agent4: Naturally glittery skin and tentacles, kind of accents the metallic patterns acquired from getting partially washed out by Order. Those arent metal fingers, those are patterns!

Additional design note -- she used to be way more sparkly, but the loss of her faith in herself made her colors fade. Easier for Order to wash her out then, no?

Neo3: fucking beaste. Kept trying to eat falling into the fuzzy ooze during her mission and now has a part of it in her dna. Sometimes gets more mammalian features (fur, hair, claws...on one occasion she sprouted a tail!)

Agent8: Same as the first design I made, now with added jelleton inspired patterns due to Side Order! Maybe bc she destroyed a bunch of em wkdndk

The rings have been with her awhile, she had decided to show em off once she got out of the Deep Sea Metro.

Agent5: Patterns reflect his time in the labyrinth -- rain, the sea, the rings reminiscent of the foam kicked up by changing tides.

Agent6: ...this is just Mags! His hair shimmers like crow feathers dipped in gold. His ink is actually yellow, but he really doesnt like his hair being that shade -- so he changes it manually to reflect his preferences. His magic circles are the one set of tattoos he allows to show through in this inkling disguise.

His stripe pattern is referencing his patterns in his original form! He looks like hes always wreathed in golden flame.

(His size meanwhile befits his fighting style -- dual wielding splatana stampers)

The last two are Croissant and Melon, the first owned by @pastille-pain!

Melon: her ink is naturally pale. The powdery patterns are reminiscent of snowfall and moonlight simply bc I like that aijdje. Theyre pearlescent/opalescent, shimmering as she moves. When she gets emotional, she starts to glow with colored spots!

[bitterbutblue]

Is it possible to request.. maybe Robin x reader things…?

Because i have ALOT of ideas 😞

the heartbreak time could never mend ☆ robin x fem!reader

~ so i decided to do a more angst route.. sorry anon T-T

robin falls in love with a civilian, but it's not what they want .. um i hope this doesnt hurt too bad

song: cornelia street - taylor swift ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The letter that laid in front of her had been taunting her the moment she got home. She felt her throat close up, eyes stinging with unshed tears when she spots your familiar handwriting on top. Her heart has been aching to push itself out of her body, threatening to spill its own blood on the ground from the day she told you she didn't love you anymore. You remember that day too vividly, you remember that day every night you try to sleep and every morning when you wake up to the empty bed. You remember it too well because you remembered nothing ever being lead up to the point where she decided she no longer loved you.

"What the fuck do you mean, Robin?"

She had her back facing you, her halovian wings tucked in- a sign of agitation.

"I said I don't love you anymore."

Her voice was quiet, too calm for your own liking. She spoke as if it was just factual, as if you hadn't spent the past three years of your lives being each other's most important person.

"I don't want to do this anymore."

The world began spinning ever so slightly as you gripped at the edge of the table, trying to steady yourself. Your breathing grew more and more unsteady. You took in deep breaths, trying to calm that ache in your heart.

"Why?" Was all you could manage out "Why not?"

"Because I've fallen out of love."

Fallen out of love. It happens to people, more often or not. But you swear on your life that Robin had not fallen out of love because you still see the way she looks at you when you run into her on your way back home. You see through her civilian disguise, because you'd spot those eyes from anywhere. In a sea of people you'd recognise those eyes of hers and every time she looks at you and you only, she has the look reminiscent of a view of a harbour late at night. She has the look reminiscent of a heartbeat as one lays on their lover's chest- deep and sincere.

You still see that look in her eyes. You saw it the day you stormed out of her house, you see it the day you came back to get your stuff. You see it when you spot her walking down the streets and you know she hasn't fallen out of love. You know she hasn't fallen out of love because she looks at you with nothing but regret and pain, unspoken words and promises that beg to be let out. Eyes are just a simple human organ, made for us to see- yet eyes can hold more emotions than you could've ever processed and you learned this when she looked at you right before you left. Her facade dropped for just a bit and you see the gut-wrenching pain and regret that hits her almost immediately as soon as you opened the door. She opened her mouth, as if wanting to say something, but nothing comes out. Instead you watch her in silence for a moment, tears finally falling, before turning around and slamming the door shut.

You first fell for her because you worked at a cafe she really liked going to, and she noticed you because 1. you were absolutely stunning, and 2. you always drew the cutest little doodles and notes on her cup that had her swooning. She always talked to Sunday about 'that pretty barista who makes her drink the best' and Sunday had always urged her to talk to you. When she did finally approach you, you didn't recognise her as the idol Robin. You just gratefully accepted her request and she had never felt more light. She never understood what it meant to walk on Cloud 9 until you.

You finally connected the dots- why Robin never wanted to see you outside of her or your home, and why she always wore such dark clothing and sunglasses when she was out. You didn't care, you were just worried about her safety and you told her that if it was safer for you two to break up than to jeopardise her career, then you would be okay with ending things.

That was the day she fell more in love with you- more than ever. That was the day she wanted to be by your side forever.

That was the day she lied, the day she told you she would always put you over her career.

You loved her, you still do. You love her like she's the air you breathe, and you love her like a flame loves the cold air of the night. You loved her too much and too dearly and whenever you love someone too much it always come back to get you.

You remember the day she said those three words. It was on your bed, her laying in your arms after a long day of dealing with performances and fans, paparazzi and newspapers. You hold her close and you hold her tight. She nudged her head into the crook of your neck so that she laid on your chest. She let out a content sigh at the sound of your heartbeat.

"I love you."

You felt your own heart beating faster at her words and she giggled.

"Your heartbeat just sped up."

"I know."

You couldn't stop the embarrassment in your voice as she lets out a laugh that sounds akin to the sun rising over the city for a new day. Robin wraps her arms around you tightly, pressing a kiss to your neck, right at your pulse point.

"I love you, and I'll love you forever."

She sobbed in her bed for god knows how long after the door slams shut. She couldn't even call Sunday because she couldn't move without every fibre in her body burning from the pain that had spread from her heart. She sobbed until she couldn't speak and her eyes were hurting from how dry they had gone. She held her pillow tight against her chest to try to calm that ache that spread with each thump but it doesn't dull. It doesn't and it never will.

"Robin?"

"Hm?"

"Check the articles I sent you."

Her heart dropped. Whenever Sunday called her to say that it's almost never good news. She hung up immediately, clicking onto the article in the link he sent and she felt everything just come to a halt.

Robin spotted on the streets with a woman?

Robin coming out as a LESBIAN?

Idol Robin seen holding hands with a WOMAN!

Her phone hit the ground, clattering as she ran to the bathroom. She felt the sickening churn of her stomach as she knelt over the toilet bowl. Her own vision began to blur, the corners going white. Her worst nightmare was happening and it's happening in real time.

"Baby?"

You rush up to her side, panic filling you as you kneel down next to her. You take in the tears in her eyes, the paleness of her face and how she could barely breathe.

"I can't-"

"What's wrong?"

"Stay with me."

You write her a long letter, and you never had the courage to give it to her until weeks after she ended things with you. You blanked out as you were writing, and you weren't even sure if you were making sense as you wrote out what you were feeling. It was a series of emotions, incoherent words stuck together, held together by your anger, your despair. You want her to read it but you also want her to never contact you about it, ever.

You had finally pieced together why she ended things one day after you opened social media to find a post about Robin. You felt your own throat close up as you read the post. Beloved Robin is a lesbian? Fans enraged, netizens demand-

You threw your phone across the room, not caring about the damage you had done (though you did deeply regret it after). You felt your breathing get more and more ragged. She couldn't even talk to you about it. She didn't even come out with the truth about what happened because if she had just talked to you, you would've understood, goddammit. Instead she lied, she lied and she pretends and she smiles for the camera.

It's unclear what hurts more- her lie or the promise she broke. She swore to love you even if everyone was against her yet in her core, she is an idol. In her core, she is not willing to jeopardise her relationship for anything. You never should've believed her in the first place and fuck, you were foolish for believing her.

She smiles for the camera every day, she sings her songs and she greets the crowds with her award winning, bright and cheerful smile. She addresses the rumours and that's what kills you.

Regarding the rumours about your sexuality, what do you have to say to that?

I would like to clarify that those rumours are false- I am not queer or part of the LGBTQ+ community. The person in the images that have been circulating around is just a good friend of mine- a friend since childhood. I never liked to openly talk about my sexuality but I do not think my sexuality should be a topic discussed so openly. What I do in my private life should be kept to me and my loved ones.

Bullshit.

Robin had told you in secrecy, she doesn't like men. She doesn't and she never has been interested in men. You wouldn't betray her trust and out her of course but fuck it hurt to see her do the exact thing she promised you she would never do.

It hurt so much.

-

Dear Robin,

I don't know how to start this letter, I don't know how to write exactly what it is I feel and what it is I want to even say but there is so much I never conveyed to you that night that I feel like I want you to know before we part ways forever.

You were the first girl I truly loved, and I hope you know that. I know you will move on one day, and I hope when you move on you are more confident in yourself. I hope you have the guts to fucking keep your promise you told me with your future girlfriend and that you don't hurt them like you hurt me. Did you have to be such a coward? Did you have to lie to me about not loving me anymore? If you had just told me the truth it would've hurt less- yet you break two promises with this act of yours. Is it that important for you to maintain this image? Is it worth losing what we had and the future we were planning to build together?

All I have left is the remains of what you promised me and the remains of myself I have to pick up because of how you've left me. I can't walk down the stairs without thinking about that time you were waiting for me there with my favourite flowers. I can't walk into the kitchen without thinking about the day you surprised me by cooking breakfast for me on my birthday despite your busy schedule. I will hurt forever, and I will stay hurt for god knows how long.

A part of me will always be changed, and you will always be a part of me because I myself am an amalgamation of our love and of you now. My sense of self is also tied to you, my sense of identity is engrained to you and I despise that. I despise how a part of me is forever shaped by you. I want to lose every part of you forever because I love you so much. I love you so much and it hurts to know that you will still be a part of me but you will never be with me again. I've never asked much of you, and I don't think I am a selfish person but please just let me be selfish for once- I just want to keep your love, I want to keep you.

i just want you to be proud of who you are. I want you to not have to hide in shame and I hope you stop hiding one day because I know it hurts you too.

Signed,

Yours truly

-

Dearest,

You will probably never see this letter, and I may just burn this after I write it.

You were my first love too. I never opened myself up to anyone but you caught me with open arms. I never thought I would be so heads over heels for you but the more I got to know you the deeper in love I fell. I knew it was a risk to ask you out and I took that risk because I love you. I want you to be in my life forever but I also want you to know that I'm scared.

I know it's not fair of me to ask you to understand, but I just want to protect you from the media. Selfishly, I put myself first. Selfishly, I couldn't let myself love you because I was scared of what would happen if the media truly found out about you.

I love you, I still do. I wake up every day wishing you were by my side but I need to learn the fact that I had let you go. I had let you go for my own sake and I regret it, I really do. But I don't think it's right for me to come back, to come begging.

I don't think I can love someone as well as I loved you. I think the way I love in the future will forever be influenced by you too.

I will try to be braver for you, I hope you see me on the screens one day and remember us, and how you are the reason why I shine brighter than the stars of the Penacony nights.

I love you, forever and always.

Signed,

Robin.

-

"What can I get for you today-"

You feel your heart come to a stop when you see the customer that stands in front of you. You recognised those eyes from anywhere, even if it had been years. You had moved to a new city, gotten a new job at a new cafe. And here she stands, no disguise, nothing. Her eyes widen too, jaw dropping slightly. You feel your heart sink when you notice the shorter girl that stands next to her.

The girl that holds her hand tight.

"I'll have a hot chocolate!"

The girl with silvery-blonde hair smiles brightly, her eyes were this beautiful mix of ocean blue and pink that you found yourself getting lost in. Her eyes reflect nothing but kindness, Robin's eyes reflect nothing but pain.

"I'll have a flat white."

Robin's voice is quiet, slightly strained. You just nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat as you click a few buttons on the screen.

"Cash or card?"

"Card, please."

You take a deep breath in, trying to steady your voice.

"Can I have a name?"

Robin swallows.

"Robin."

"Great-" You try to stop your voice from cracking "I'll have your drinks up soon, Ms. Robin."

You turn around quickly. You had to do something else- going to work on the drinks because you could feel the tears threatening to spill. You distract yourself with the loud sounds of the milk frother, the sounds of coffee being dispensed. You take another deep breath in, hands clutching at the countertops as you try to steady yourself and to stop the tears from falling. You reach up, dabbing away at the tears quickly before heading back to work. You pour the drinks into the cup, putting the lids on before ringing up the pair. To your dismay, Robin comes up instead. You notice how her eyes drift down to the sides of the cup, face falling slightly when she notices that the sides of the cups are empty. No names, no doodles, nothing.

"Thank you."

Her voice cracks slightly as she takes the cup. You finally bring your gaze up, making eye contact for the first time in years and you feel your heart clench as you let out an choked gasp. You see the tears that form in her eyes, the tears that mirrors yours.

Please, say something.

"Have a good day."

Pause.

Anything.

"You too."

And she turns around, like a stranger resuming their day- your moments in history, pushed back into the past.

[manticore-fangs]

honestly. heres reasons why i like soap & gaz more then ghost. (i must say, so no one gets mad. in my opinion)

(i love ghost because of his trauma, but im just naming stuff that he HASNT done.)

-the whole scene of gaz scuba diving, having to kill people with knives, then having to grab a gun to then.. basically murder everyone. tell me that isnt sick?

-gaz in the helicopter scene, shooting cars. then falling out to shoot UPSIDE DOWN?? tell me that isnt the coolest fucking thing ever. not sure how his cap stayed on.. (maybe hes got spares) and then started hijacking cars.. THEN DESTROYED AN APC TANK? yeah. thats my my man.

-ghillie mission?? the fuck. having to perfectly aim to get the target. and then gaz going down to basically slaughter more then 50 people. this man.. in his ghillie suit, probably sweating, taking out men. also having to use a gas grenade to wash out the people, and kill them, while on top of a roof. yeah.. yeah? yeah!!

-then, THEN!!! the mission with alejandro. now, that.. that was sick. having to throw the grenade and reveal the lasers. to then move to where valeria was staying? i personally think the grenade part was cool.. not sure about everyone else though.

-then, in mw3.. gaz is hoping onto houses, into apartments and shooting down enemies. now, i havent played this myself. but i think thats sick, how hes climbing apartments and shooting down the konni members. THEN KNOCKING THE FUCK OUT NOLAN, THEN CARRYING HIM???? holy fuck, gaz your my 2nd favourite man.

-soap!! first scene playing as him? it was with ghost, but the fact he was in night vision, hunting and your probably thinking "oh! ghost is doing the same thing" yes, that doesnt change anything. especially in the future. (coughs alone missio-) soap sniping people when they start to snipe down at people, on the roofs in that first mission. while laying in the grass.

-soaps 2nd mission. was.. cartel protection mission. yes, ghost was there too. but soap going first into the houses, alongside alejandro. and shooting down the army. THEN being chased down by the cartel army, to a dead end, then JUMPING down and shooting cartel army while swimming with the fish. yeah.. yeah? yeah!!

-then soap, getting basically interviewed by valeria and diego. answering the questions.. able to speak FUCKING SPANISH. yeah.. amazes me. and also being able to get to the 2nd floor, attacking the guards, then killing diego. yeah.. this is MY #1 MAN!!!!!!!!

-then, soap in the dark water mission. de-activating the missile for the first time?? omg, yes. that was beautifully done. even though graves was there... AND having to shoot on a ship, with most likely sea legs. yeah.. yeah.

-OH< MY FAVOURITE PART. the alone mission. soap with a hole in his upper arm, and having to crawl around shadows. with a limp and almost blacking out a few times. then also having to kill shadows, going through houses to look for some metal, and other materials was amazing. then having too go into tunnels and shit.. yeah. that was amazing.

-lastly, the tank mission. having to use c4 to explode the tank! even though graves wasnt in it.. it was cool no matter what. i geniunely loved that mission. one of my favourites. having to get clsoe enough to the tank and having to explode it was amazing..

-i know we dont play as gaz and soap. but the tundra mission in mw3, UNDERWATER WAS COOL. even though it was just a few seconds was absolutely amazing.

i like how i can go into deep writing to say this but cant even write 2.5k words for smut. amazing.

[soapels]

flash

john “soap” mactavish x female reader

your good friend soap’s been actin’ a lil weird lately… but as long as you keep pretending otherwise, it’ll be okay. right…?

tw: nsfw/smut, reader has this thing where she playfully calls him soapy, friends to lovers sort of, comrades to lovers, alcohol use, emotional?? mentions of and allusions to mental illness

notes: yall this one took a while to cook up, ngl. but soap doesnt get as much love as he should!! so please accept this tender lil fic and enjoy 😖 and tell me if u enjoyed lol i’d be over the moon ♡ once again, readmore is bugging so…. Sorry 🥲

all hearts, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated!

There’s not much in this world that can ease the trauma that war leaves behind.

You’ve been a part of the team for a while, long enough to walk in on things you shouldn’t have- conversations meant for the higher-ups, things your ears weren’t supposed to hear. And you’ve shut your mouth, zipped it up tight and threw the key to the bottom of the sea by silently walking away from it all.

Sometimes you stumble upon things that aren’t inherently wrong, either- like Ghost winding down one night to a bottle of whiskey, a glimpse of his brown, doleful eyes- but it somehow feels out of place, too.

Nothing ever feels right, around here.

But you don’t want to leave, exactly, truthfully you think a big part of you will always be stuck here with the military and blood and gunpowder, like some dirty stain you can never quite scrub away completely.

And even stranger- you don’t think you’d have it any other way.

You dropped the hypothetical shit a while ago, no more dreams of living at the edge of a city in New York or owning a cozy little cafe like that one Simon particularly liked. Stopped wishing over shooting stars and leaning on pipe dreams of your life after the war’s done.

Because the war’s never really done, and that’s why you can’t go. To suddenly walk away from it all, emerge from a cloud of orange smoke to the suburbs- that’d feel worse than suicide, because you never finished shit, you let it finish you.

You’re not gonna leave first, you decided on your fourth mission, at least not on your own volition. Either you go down with the chaos, or you’re lucky enough and don’t.

And… You walk in on things you’re not always supposed to.

Like Soap hunched over by his bunk one quiet evening, the horizon a burning mess of red and deep tangerine outside the small window, curtains billowing ever so softly in the breeze.

…Doin’ something you still can’t find it in you to say.

And you wanted to do something, upon the door creaking open- pull a lighthearted scare on him like he does you sometimes, but more importantly, tell him that your Lieutenant told you to tell him that he’s on cleaning duty tonight. (He never likes cleaning much, Johnny, but he’s damn good at it- fast, too, probably under the incentive of a good night’s sleep.)

But there’s something in the air- must be- because your knees lock up and you gape at the back of his head, one large hand bracing against the bar of the bed, the other… wrapped around his front, jerking jerking jerking.

Confusion kicks in, for a solid moment as you piece it all together- the lack of a lamp light in the sunset-bathed room, the odd quietness and the precaution stitched in the stiff muscles of his back, shirtless and slightly sweating- and then comes the slow realization.

Common sense strikes you next.

You shut your mouth, turn on your heel, eyes bulging and all, nearly trip over your laces-

“Ah-“

And as the door quietly closes, your petrified gaze meeting Soap’s hazy blue one through the diminishing slit, you know you’ve fucked up.

You hear him call your name just before you go, his voice thick and heady, his Scottish accent just a rasping breath as you blink away the mad blush and counter it back with a frail call over your shoulder.

“Uhm- sorry! Ghost- um- h-he said you’re on cleaning duty!!”

Fuck.

♡♡♡

“All water under the bridge, Soapy.”

You tell him confidently after a whole week of awkwardly skirting around him, pretending he was nonexistent sitting across of you in the truck or plane. Truthfully, you were too embarrassed of your mishap to do much otherwise.

But none of that has to be known, so if he spots the nerves in your eyes, he doesn’t comment on it, and you’d like to think your little grin is convincing enough.

“Y’sure, lass?” He says uncertainly, rubbing the back of his neck as his oceanic hues flit between you and the wall behind you. You nod, sparing a cautionary glance over his shoulder to your comrades swaying around with every bump of the gravel road, bodies knocking together, shoulders brushing and—

“Lass…?”

“Oh,” you blink owlishly, mentally returning back to the male before you, “sorry, guess my mind wasn’t all there.”

“All on good things, I hope?” He offers a half-embarrassed little chuckle there, and when the sentiment clicks, you huff fondly and look away.

“Good things,” you confirm, ever bashful.

And there’s a stretch of peaceful silence; the muted crunch of gravel beneath the big tires, some mild chatter and exchanged banter between your Captain and Gaz (albeit, it comes mostly from Price), and the light rustle of bodies brushing together.

Your mind wanders away in that wordless reprieve, and though you vaguely register Soap’s presence still there- those blue, inquisitive eyes hovering over you- he’s no more than an afterthought as you slowly zone out.

Far. Away.

The glint of the steely rafters overhead. The ripped fabric of the seats. Camo and black and bleakness, everywhere, all the time, no color. You can’t feel your body.

Gunfire. Chaos. Your ears ring, a perpetual bell of terror in your head as adrenaline courses through your veins, fear making its daily rounds within you.

No escape, no red exits or arrows to an end- just you and the field of sand, endless and dry, swarmed with enemies that you can’t find it in you to leave behind for another.

It’s over, something weak and brittle-boned screams inside you, wailing, in the high-pitched voice of a child hiding under the bed. It’s over It’s over It’s over.

It’s over again.

…But he’s there, in all your trembling, concerned sapphire and a boyish sort of gentleness, a gloved hand reaching for you.

(Gunfire, gunfire, gunfire. Something’s nicked your leg, maybe.)

“…You good?”

You gasp inaudibly. Wide, deer-in-headlights gaze meeting a vaguely worried one.

His hand, idly sliding over the length of his gun, almost jitters as he quietly searches you for a sign of response, for a familiar smile or a pleasant little laugh that serves as a salve to his soul.

And for a fleeting, terrifying moment, Soap looks earnestly for life in those e/c hues, and finds grains of sand in his boots.

Your lips curl, ever so slightly, and that curse is broken.

“Yes,” you breathe, lashes fluttering down to the gun in your own arms— much too big for you, heavy, full of bullets named home (because you can’t feel safe without them)— and then your eyes fall to your legs, the camo hiding the healing mass of bandages there.

Soap wrapped most of them.

“Thanks, Johnny.”

When his cheeks dust over an unsuspecting red, you realize you’ve fucked up for the second time this week.

Because nobody calls him Johnny. Nobody but your headstrong Lieutenant.

…Jerking your chin away, wordless and tense in the direction of the vehicle’s driver, Soap can tell you’re sorry.

And he sighs then, exasperated- just as you- yet soft, too. His eyes follow yours, equipment jostling quietly in the droning lull of the long trip ahead.

“…No harm done there, lass.”

There’s a trace of a smile on his lips. Exhausted. True.

♡♡♡

Bruises, cuts, heavy fists and evil intent— literal bullets to the skin- you’ve taken it all, yet none of that seems to matter now, every bad memory bleeding into the swirl of your glass, ice tinkling together as you slowly relax into Soap’s sofa.

It smells of him, you think. Something woodsy and unexplainably Johnny- perhaps a trace of minty aftershave…

You feel nice, slumped back into the cushions in a haze- happy, even. Or perhaps not happy, exactly, but dazed and dumb and good. The sweet-tanged concoction too dizzying to think.

You can’t think; good, it must be.

Soap’s sat next to you, clad in faded denim jeans and a white top that clings loosely to his built muscles. His legs are spread somewhat, long made himself comfortable, thighs thick and strong through the rugged-blue material.

His condition’s not far off from yours, sporting a glass of his own, approaching his fifth of the night, though you suspect he holds his alcohol much better, because you hardly ever drink, and you’re already feeling tipsy after the second shot. Meanwhile, he’s still managing to articulate a sentence, a dopey grin occasionally showing on his face.

Sat at the armchair across the coffee table, Ghost is a stoic wreck of fatigue and relief, steadily nursing a bourbon as Soap babbles on about some old highschool story of his.

It’s probably something funny, something the sober you wouldn’t want to miss, something you’d tuck away in your brain for later to poke harmless fun at your pal with. But you’re so tired and lost and intoxicatedly stupid right now, and for the life of you, you can’t convince yourself to turn over and hear him out.

Later, the hopeful part of you whispers, when you’re less fucked up and leaden. (Later never comes.)

Ghost’s brown eyes are glossy beneath his balaclava, a sort of look kin to post-nut clarity glinting in them as he witnesses the two of you slowly. Processing, processing, processing. As if he’s looking through a pane of glass, not really there, but he feels every crippling sensation all the same and his mouth feels awkward, he’s drunk and his tongue is heavy.

He shouldn’t take another sip. He does anyway.

Maybe he’s not listening to Johnny half-coherently list off fables from his youth, maybe he’s simply existing and basking in the otherwise quiet moment-the temporary peace. And maybe Soap knows his Lieutenant zoned off a while ago, that now no ears in the whole entire world are listening to him spill the humorous side of his heart.

Maybe it doesn’t matter. None of it.

…There comes a point, though, where Soap looks over to you.

Those eyes, a murky, inscrutable sapphire, drag over you. Slowly. There’s something on his mind, something heavy and wild and that he can’t control, yet he doesn’t tell a word of it, and for the life of you, you can’t figure out why.

(You’re drunk anyway, you’re done and over with for the night. So what’s it matter anyway?)

(But it’s Soap, so you want to know.)

Finally, those hazy blues settle on your empty glass, clasped loosely in your fingers.

“…Pour y’another?”

You snort halfheartedly, mustering up a joke. (‘Cept, it’s not really funny, and your words are slurring. You sound stupid, you can’t feel your body. Pop pop pop, gunfire in the distance, playing like a broken vinyl cd in the crook of your head…)

“Soap… I don’t think I can take another…”

His chest rumbles low at that.

“S’pose yer right.”

He’s reaching forward, leaning into the coffee table, snatching a bottle and gesturing to your mug anyway.

You’re smiling like a plastered, exhausted bimbo when you obediently proffer it out to him and watch him fill it up. Slowly, but his strong arm’s a little uncoordinated as he pours it, and he almost spills some.

It’s more than you can ever hope to drink right now, you realize as he sets the whiskey back down, pressing the glass back to you. You think with enough ambition and torturous silence, though, you’ll be able to find way to swallow it all.

(The lot of you are good at that.)

It’s when you take your second sip that Ghost rises from the couch.

“I’m done-in for the night.”

He’s fucked up too, bad, you can tell. But he hides it well, always has, hardly a stumble to his step as he spares you a tired, mutual nod and turns in the direction of the hall.

“Sure, Lt,” Soap calls after him, the two of you watching Simon disappear into the dim glow of the hallway. “There’s blankets in the hall closet if y’get too cold.”

And it’s when you hear the soft click of a door, a bed promptly groaning under a foreign weight, that an unprecedented sense of drunken boldness takes over and you rise.

“Lass-?”

(He’s already poised to reach for you, prepared to follow right behind you should you say the word, if something’s wrong.)

Pop pop pop.

You tip your head back, gulping down the liquid- an evident bit of spice that sears your throat, a complimentary vanilla, too- ‘til you’re staring at an empty bottom.

Turnin’ back to Soap.

Jaw slack, eyes a glossy mess of intoxication and confusion- maybe even worry- Soap looks up at you with knitted brows. Ready to sit you back down, perhaps noticing the quiet war behind your dopey blinks- eager to convince you there’s nothing to be afraid of- he shouldn’t have poured you another, it’s time to hit the hay, maybe—

“Johnny,” you say, and it knocks the very breath out of him, “More.”

…More it is.

He belatedly takes your emptied mug in his hands, almost trembling as he snuffs out all of his internal turmoil and brims your glass with more of that addictive substance.

Pours himself another, too. (Figures he’ll need it to sleep tonight. Though, it’ll hurt like hell in the morning- that’s when he’ll truly pay for it.)

Settling back into the sofa (admittedly not in best shape, leather worn-in, a few scratches), he watches you tap in and out of your beverage, and when your hips start to sway- thin fabric of your nightgown shifting along your thighs- a good piece of him (the last of his rationality) burns with the whiskey at the back of his throat.

Oh, you want to butcher him tonight, don’t you?

There’s no sound, just the pleasant backdrop of rain dripping off the apartment’s roof and the occasional car whistling down the city streets, yet you move like it’s your favorite song.

Lazy, loosely-controlled, like every sentiment flows through you like a conduit.

Brokenness there, Johnny finds snapped twigs and bullet shells and the screams that catch deep in your lungs after another close call. But he discovers hope there too, a courageous peace and a beam of your forgiving moon…

Wants to swim in your waters.

(But you don’t bleed the same chaos he’s realized he can. You reek of immovable innocence; he’s beheaded men and liked it- he’s imagined you outside of your hellish job and shimmied out of those thick fatigues- pictured you naked and happy on his cock. And that lovely gown you’re in now makes you so fuckin’ precious in his eyes…)

(It frames you like an angel. You are, Soap knows. You are. And he deserves no part of it.)

Your body ebbs like a tide.

A gentle, hypnotic lullaby that Soap thinks is awfully inviting, jaw stiff at the way your perky ass tempts him beneath the pale silk, jeans growing a touch tighter as the seconds tick by. (Has he been watching you for forever? Have you been swaying for only a moment? He doesn’t know, but—)

It’s enough.

He rises too, then, large hands meeting the curve of your hips, settling there like he’s belonged for some time, eyes hooded as they sweep over the expanse of your neck and collarbones, point of his nose scraping against the column of your throat.

“Want t’kill me tonight, d’you, lass?”

You almost pause for a moment at his touch, he can feel it in the way you stiffen, the faint shiver of your spine. But you don’t let his presence stop you, and for that he’s ever thankful.

“No,” you breathe, and it’s just as soft as it is drunk.

Slurred, and falling apart, still you’re a sight for sore eyes, the callous pads of his fingers slowly riding down the plush of your thigh… “Never, Soapy.”

Soapy. What a fucking nickname. Probably one of the stranger things he’s gotten hard at- not that he’s complaining, because though for anyone else it wouldn’t slide, it sounds so sweet leaving your lips.. makes warmth furl out in his chest…

Hands roaming, roaming, and roaming some more.

Stopping midway, where the frilly hem of that tantalizing gown lies…

Testing your waters, though he wants nothing more than to pull the fabric off you and dive right in.

“Gorgeous thing,” he murmurs back, this time into the side of your jaw, his lips smushing into your cheek as he insinuates himself behind you. Wonderin’ if you fully realize the persistent bulge at your rear-side and if you do, whether or not you like it.

(D’you want him, too? Oh, fuck, he hopes you want him, too. Don’t know what he’ll do otherwise…)

When his thumb grazes against the smooth skin of your belly and you offer no rebuttal, he relaxes some behind you, blood roaring through his ears (down south, too). Hoping you’ll be impossibly generous with him, even if just for tonight, even if you’ll both forget it all by the morning and this little daydream of his will be swept under the rug ‘til he stumbles again and needs to revisit it.

“Fuckin’ hell, lass…” he sort of groans. “Sway those hips s’more for me, yeah…?”

You’re too good, he thinks as you lean back into him and give him just what he asked for, you’re too good and now he’s hot and needy for you. Only you. (Why’s it only ever you?)

The alcohol’s getting to his head, his mouth feels fuzzy and his throat is cotton but he likes it- the embers licking at the pit of his belly doing no favors for his intoxication.

M’ drunk off you, lass. He wants to say, or at least something of the sort. But his lips are sealed, and the patters of rain stay steady outside. And not a word comes out.

Not until his hips start grinding against yours, hands hungrily groping up to the mounds of your tits, and you mewl. You fucking mewl. A soft whine, hardly a breath, really- but it’s somehow satisfied and greedy all at once and Soap knows right then that you need him just as he needs you.

(You need him.)

“Fuck, Y/n,” he grunts, voice thick with arousal, low with remnants of exhaustion. “Let me take ya to m’ room… Please?”

And you do, obedient as he flips you around, carefully hoisting you up, palms cupping the unders of your thighs as he heads off in the direction of the hallway.

He wants to kiss you, to twirl his tongue with yours and taste the sweeter option of liquor you let him pour you tonight, he wants to do everything he’s ever wanted to with you- but he doesn’t.

Sex is one thing- to fuck you is already worse enough but at least he could chalk it up to just blowing off some steam. But kissing... That crossed a whole different line and leapt over into something far more personal.

You two will be in big trouble should Ghost suddenly emerge from the guest room and find you- you’re certain this isn’t allowed, but Soap’s arms are setting you down on his bed and his mouth is suckling at your neck and you like it.

But—

“Johnny,” you whine breathlessly. He somehow, amidst the inebriation and the heady poke of your breasts against his chest- the sin of his name on your tongue- recognizes the hesitance there and finds it in him to pause.

“What?” Voice all raspy and fucked-up. Impatient, slightly harsh.

(But his heart is running so fast it echoes in his brain.)

“This is-…” you swallow. “This is wrong.”

Johnny sighs. “Lass,” the backs of his knuckles brush over your cheek, up along your jaw ‘til his fingers are stroking back your hair, and his eyes are a tsunami, roaring waves folding over a gentle tide as he peers at you.

(Fuck, he sees you. He totally, fully sees you.)

Pupils a blown-out mess of adoration and tenderness and something deeper you can’t quite place.

“M’fraid it all is.”

His lips ghost over yours- for a moment he almost sinks his teeth into the softness there, but at the last second they shift gears and descend upon you, placing a flurry of pecks on your tummy. Down down down, ‘til he’s rucking up your gown and the tip of his nose is burrowing into the dip of your panties- the wetness there exacerbating his raging hard-on.

You shiver violently at his touch, lazily propped up on your elbows as you gape down at him. Your fingers find his head, tangling into his mohawk, grazing against the shaved hair. His eyes glow like a beast, large palms dragging your hips in, bracing into your thighs.

His eyes roll back some at your touch. The gentleness you regard him with in those shimmery eyes of yours- you’ve had him on a tight leash for a while now. He hopes you know, and wonders if you’d loosen his chains a little, just to free him some. (Does he even want to be free?)

“Johnny, I…” (The intensity in his gaze so heady and endless you can’t muster up a proper sentence.)

“…Can make y’happy,” he huffs out, then, his hot breath melding against your clothed pussy- needy and aching for your usually-cheery comrade. “Can make ya cum on my tongue, if that’s what y’want.”

The moon slivers in through the still curtains. His words are slurred. Johnny is so drunk. You are, too. You’ll regret this tomorrow morning if you remember. And you will, of course you will, because you remember everything. (Least, all the things you shouldn’t…)

Johnny, though- cheeks a ruddy mess of infatuation and tender, overwhelming arousal- is worth all of it.

“I jus’ want you,” you breathe incoherently after a belated beat of silence.

There’s a split second of nothingness- where Soap has to piece together your sloppy (yet no less sincere) whisper-

And then there’s a broken little whimper on his end. His fingers hooking into the hem of your panties and tugging ‘em down- vicious, almost. No more waiting. You asked too nicely for him to turn you down anyway.

“You’ll get me.” He whispers coarsely. He hikes your legs up over his shoulders, fumbling flat onto his tummy- still, somehow careful of the bandages around your knee- and doesn’t waste any time.

Diving in, placing a preparatory kiss to to your clit before nuzzling into your folds—

Your head immediately thrashes into his pillows, jaw gaping as you stifle a desperate moan, eyes pinned to the ceiling.

“Oh, Johnny,” you whine, and your voice is so thin- skin so glassy in the flicker of the moon- that he’s sure one wrong touch will break you entirely.

(And he wants to break you, maybe. If only to put your pieces back together, bring you to beautiful ruin on his cock and tongue and fingers and soul, just so he can recombine you after all is said and done. Be the one to kiss away your tears, pocket them like souvenirs- whenever he feels particularly awful he can pull them out and remember how they made your eyes shine like magic 8balls. And for a moment, all the wrong will fade.)

“That’s it, pretty gal,” his palms hold your quivering thighs apart, keeping you mostly steady beneath him. But when he shifts, teases his index finger at the core of you and sinks it in- so deep- so much longer than yours- you let out a shivering moan that the back of your hand can’t hold.

He hushes you, briefly pulling away from your pussy, and you think you hear something close to love there. “Hush, lass,” he whispers. “Much as I want t’hear ya, word gets out to Shepherd and we’re done for.”

Soap gets a shaky, long exhale in return, and from where he lies between your legs, he watches your tummy stutter with every breath, breasts torturing him with every jostle.

“I don’t think I can take it.” You confess.

(Fuck, he has to ruin you.)

He sighs deeply. “You will…”

You beg him a lot; small fingers fisted in his stripe of hair, unwittingly tugging and whining as quiet as you could, that he’d save you the hell and give his cock to you already. But it’s only after you’ve come undone on his tongue that he finally indulges you- though he’s more than willing, fumbling for his slacks as he settles you back down, nose brushing against yours as he lines himself up.

“Tell me you still want it…”

“I want you,” you breathe.

He’s kissing you, cock pushing in with a feral little growl that rocks the both of you, muffled in the swirl of your tongue as his hips meet the underside of your thighs. He pushes ‘em to your chest.

“Fuck, lass, wanted to do this for a while,” he confesses in a breathy sort of whine, and when you whimper confusedly back he pulls away some, gives you a shaky nod. His balls are tight already, belly flipping with arousal and lust and the pure need to fill you up.

“Mhm,” he hums, all reassurance, gentle, uncoordinated fingers smoothing back your hair as he drinks in the sight of you. Perfect beneath him, eyes hardly meeting his, lashes dewy with pleasure- all given by him- breasts jostling like a treat as he drives himself into your warmth.

As tender as he can make it, as good as he can hold back.

“Thought about this for too long. Was so afraid that evening you walked in on me— ah— but… suppose you wanted it too, yeah?”

He’s kissing you again. Why’s he kissing you again-?

“I want ye,” he murmurs against you, and you’re trying so hard not to make a peep, gnawing on your love-swollen lips when Soap finally pulls away for oxygen- but perhaps something inside him snaps, looking down at you, ruined by his hand, because the next thing he says—

“Fuckin’ hell- don’t hold back, lass, don’t care who hears anymore,” he near begs, low voice rubbed raw with alcohol and, well, the sight of you, raising a pitch.

“Y’sound so pretty, so fuckin’ good, just let me hear you…”

And the pathetic part is- he’s already getting close, already feels that niggling, simmering sensation clutching in the pit of his belly as he rams his length in and out of you, watching your pretty face contort with pleasure— all given by him— and—

And when you finally unhook your bottom lip from your teeth and loose a whimpering, wanton moan for him, he comes on the spot.

Witnessing the twisted, cloying expression he makes as he lets out a long, feral groan, you think you come, too.

(Sure felt like it anyway- on Soap’s end, too. Fuck.)

But he just collapses over you, letting your sweaty skin fold against his as he burrows into the crook of your neck, suckles little red and pink marks that’ll linger tomorrow, and the next day, and the next…

“Yr’gorgeous,” he murmurs, leaning away some to look you in the eyes.

His glitter with warmth- you suspect he might’ve hidden a tear in the juncture of your neck- and they harbor this unmistakeable, eddying flash of love.

“You know that, yeah? …How gorgeous y’are?”

His pupils are blown wide, swallowing up a ring of baby blue. His calloused palms hold you close. So close. You can’t leave, you think, can’t squirm away even if you wanted to— not in Johnny’s grasp.

You muster up the sweetest, most fatigued little smile, and send it his way. “I-I know, Johnny.”

He shifts one final time, grinning tiredly (still, he’s won a medal, tonight, the best he could’ve ever aspired for) as he makes himself comfortable behind you- still tucked inside you- and wraps his strong arms ‘round your torso.

The bed creaks once more- loud, may you add, because Johnny stopped—

“Bloody hell! Go to sleep, will ya?!”

[notedchampagne]

Is now the right time to ask even though it was a while ago about the Pyrrhawake pirate au you did😭I still think about it the designs were soooo good

teehee id gladly speak about it! a lot of these are cooypasted from discord so its a little disorganized but anyway

btw this au is now called nonapelagic zone. "The pelagic zone includes all ocean waters away from shores. The term pelagic is derived from the Greek word pelagos, meaning "open sea."" and they have nine seas now just because

in this au necromancy is a thing. harrowhark has a literal skeleton crew and gideons onboard it as a sort of prisoner as well

before gideon was with harrow she was raised by john like his little princess. she does rapier and normal swords because she needs the enrichment but god shes so depressed. one day she grabs some of johns money and tries to get one of his boats to ride around on. maybe to never come back in maybe to die in she doesnt care. then harrow ransacks her. kiris held hostage and made to swab the decks because she might be the prince BUT. shes not staying on that boat doing nothing

harrow has a davy jones type thing going on with alecto, who is kept in a well in brackish water underneath johns castle. harrows been looking for alecto for years

the other ship groups on here are pyrrhawake (broken up bc wakes in prison), the rest of boe (riding with pal and cam because theyre on their own atlantic type adventure to go to islands and log research), and the tridentarii (they are rich and have a silly yacht)

boe is a group of smaller ships with the hopers, wakers etc and they all have an "alliance" but only out of mutual distaste. all the houses are Lands but ninth was a little shitty island so after the death of harrows parents she took her loyal ones and made a ship

wake stole one of johns ships and ransacked him a few times before. she also sinks his other ships for the hell of it until she got captured and is behind bars. pyrrhas been trying to get her back

pyrrhas ship temporarily took over harrows and thats when pyr bonded with gideon, then returned her to john so that she could sneak in and release wake. a beautiful reunion + betrayal combo

some years later kiri runs away AGAIN. shes really truly so desperate bc johns trying to set her up for marriage to the third to see if itll make her normal. shes on the boats shes about to go off but then she sees a boat explode. and then another. hi wake. you picked a bad time to try and leave gideon. her revenge era where shes really intent on racking up bodies

gideon gets onto wakes ship, realizes shes her mom and that shes crazy, takes her leave and dips before she gets killed. she finds harrow in a cave with a little tattered sailboat still searching for alecto

harrow: aww. did the prince try to kill herself again

gideon: yes

harrow: say it

gideon: i dont WANT to go on your stupid ship

harrow: i will cut your blood on the tide pools and watch the sharks cut you holes

gideon: SHUT UP!!! just give me the fucking mop and a sword ok

after a few more brief adventurings w the sixth and second (john sent them to find kiriona) they go back to johns castle and harrow tries to rescue alecto, chained to the bottom of a well

you have to do cpr on alecto to wake her up harrow keeps trying to swim down there but ooooh. its so deep. shes trapped shes asleep harrow has to hold her breath and breathe it into her and then come back up alive. its tough

gideon comes in now because its been 2 hours and harrows not back and she finds alecto out and harrow half dead. harrow breathes life into alecto gideon does cpr on harrow ok. ok. its the rituals

meanwhile the sixth have been speedrunning treason in the bg like a fun cameo. theyve been imprisoned too and they helped griddlehark break out

johns mad at them i think this is about as far as it goes. alectos free YAY

there was a previous sidequest where the fourth are baby sailors trying to capture gh and they had to fucking return them back to land where theyre allied w the fifth laaaame

[rxttenfish]

this is perhaps unexpected from someone who notoriously LOVES and is fascinated by the deep sea and constantly wants to write and talk and learn about it

but i fucking HATE how so often people refuse to treat deep sea organisms as actual organisms, and always insist on them being uniquely scary or dangerous or hyper-evolved into some awesomebro predator. and you see this all the time in basically all acts of creature design when its for a deep-sea animal, where its used as a shorthand for "monster" and is able to abruptly kick everything elses collective asses because its So Cool And Awesome And Dangerous And Ultra Predator.

like, these people just categorically refuse to view the deep sea as just another habitat, the animals that live there being just another way for animals to live. it has to be Hell, or the Place Where Nightmares Are Born, and it cant just be an ecosystem that deserves consideration and conservation as much as any other.

even moreso i feel like it doesnt let people actually engage with marine biology focused around the deep sea, because then people are either too scared to or they think the real thing is "less cool" compared to the fantasy theyve created in their heads, which is even worse when, yeah, deep sea ecosystems ARE under threat. its like another version of the shark thing, where people react with hatred towards a bunch of animals who categorically do not pose a threat to human life, and dont care or do anything to protect those animals when they are by far more threatened by human activity.

[kingprinceleo]

HI LEO!!! FnW shadow constantly rotates in my brain i literally cannot get this fish out of there << guy who is obsessed with creatures

do you have any fun little snippets of info abt him? like maybe something abt his biology or habits RAGHH SORRY I JUST THINK HE IS SO COOL ABSJHD!!!!!

HIIIIIIII RAHHHHHHHHHHHHH FISH MENTION !!!!!!!!!! lord hes swimming in my brain all the time... everytime i drink water its for Him actually, it goes up into my fishbowl skull i said it before a while ago ! but his biology is a gene splice of a bunch of marine life gerald thought would make a good lifeform ! so hes got traits of a bunch of critters, nautilus/squid propulsion via his quills and tail (though his quills dont snap shut *as* fast as his tail), flying fish back fins, jellyfish chest patch, lionfish poison in his mandibles and his 3rd 'eye' this is from a barrel eye fish and his color and feathers, and the fact that his body can become jelly enough to morph his legs into his tail comes from the blood belly comb jelly !!!

as for habits ! hes a weirdo as always dfshjbshf. he doesnt like land people bc they try to claim the sea, he especially hates things that harms the ocean. mass fishing operations, oil rigs, he'll tear them to shreds and has no problem with eating the people who were there. hes only around 100 years old but hes become infamous incredibly fast for being a ruthless creature that cannot be reasoned with! he also speaks solely with his mind, no one is sure if he can speak with his voice, or if he has one at all !

he lives very deep in the ocean almost entirely isolated, having some kind of setup i havent thought through fully ! but hes got a chaos emerald at all times with him :]! and while he is intelligent, he tends to just let himself Be Creature because he wants to! marine mobians have sophisticated methods of hunting, farming and cooking ! but he just swims around and swallows fish like a whale dfjhjhdg he bothers knuckles down in angel island regularly !! knuckles can punch so hard bc shadow used to let knuckles just punch him all the time out of annoyance, shadow used to never feel it, but now knuckles can hit hard enough to move shadow slightly ! hes also just a prick as ever sdfhhj, but hes so large that very few people ever pick a fight with him, so when he does meet a challenge hes so ready to fuck shit up >:]]]] sadly for him it never lasts long, until sonic and co i regularly think of a race scene between him and sonic, sonic on land and shadow in the water. hes so sure hes gonna win but sonic pushes thru and beats him and i . scream. he also is a very special boy and gets to communicate with Chaos regularly! he is unironically one of my most well adjusted shadows and it makes me laugh you prob know a lot of this stuff already but i hope i said something new for you !!!

[bleedingoptimism]

The bar is packed, but it's a small place in a small town. If he’s going to do this, now it's the best time.

And he needs to do this, he wants to do this. He wrote the damn song he might as well sing it.

Steve strums his guitar, and smirks as the first notes of the song fill the place, ‘here goes nothing’ he thinks and takes a deep breath,

You've expressed explicitly your contempt for matrimony

You've student loans to pay and will not risk the alimony

We spend our days locked in a room, content inside a bubble

And in the nighttime we go out and scour the streets for trouble

His eyes close, he lets second guitar, Chrissy, keep the tune and he grabs the mic with both hands, 

Hey, hey, marry me, Eddie

He wants to laugh, remembering when he wrote this song, how different things were back then, he wants to cry.

He grabs the guitar again, plays the tune he thought he’d never get to play onstage, moves around, checks with his bass player, Robin. She smiles encouragingly and winks at him, but there's melancholy in her eyes.

During the summer, take me sailing out on the Atlantic

I won't set my sights on other seas, there is no need to panic

So honey take me by the hand and we can sign some papers

Forget the invitations, floral arrangements and bread makers

He turns his back on the public checking on Vicky on the drums, she mouthes “fuck yeah” and it makes him smile through his tears.

Too late to go out, too young to stay in

They're talking about us living in sin

Hey, hey, marry me, Eddie

Hey, hey, marry me, Eddie

Hey, hey, marry me, Eddie

Hey, hey, E-D-D-I-E, hey

The song ends, people clap loudly, he notices some people have their phones out and he mumbles, “Man, I hope this doesn't go viral” then laughs and pulls the mic closer to him, almost saturating his voice “Actually you know what I hope it does, I hope he sees it and it fucking breaks his heart.” 

Some people clap louder and yell, others laugh and Steve sees a girl near the stage shaking her head, like she doesnt approve. He smiles meanly at her, “He broke up with me the day I finished writing this song. I'm allowed to be a bitch about it.”

The video goes viral, Eddie sees it.

It doesn't break his heart, can't break something that's already broken. 

It does however, make him realize he made a huge mistake.

song is Archie, Marry Me by Alvvays.

part two

[flamemons]

How do you think Digimon Frontier might have gone if the Spirits of Steel, Wood, and Earth had been bequeathed to Ophanimon, the Spirits of Darkness and Water had been bequeathed to Seraphimon, the Spirits of Flame, Light, Ice, Wind, and Thunder had been bequeathed to Cherubimon, and the protagonists had been Katsuharu, Teppei, Chiaki, Teruo, and Koichi (with Kouji joining later)?

im just gonna ramble whatever comes to mind lmao. i drew some stuff too!

uuh while i find it hard to care too much about those other kids because well, I don't know much about them, it is really fun thinking about how kouichi would act if he was there from the start. I think he'd be serious, in a similar way to Kouji, bc he's there on a mission, y'know! All he remembers is following his brother around until Kouji gets some weird text message (wait,,, does kouichi have a phone? probably not, huh. poor people gang ftw...) and now hes in this fuckin place! (hes a dead soul in this au too.) I'd imagine he'd be just as driven as Kouji was, if not more so, bc he KNOWS koujis gotta be here somewhere....but instead of initially trying to avoid the other kids (koujis strategy), he'd probably stick around as soon as he realizes that theyre gonna get themselves killed if they keep acting stupid. So, instead of trying to ditch the kids or act distant, he'd nag them and rush them to stay on track, and come off as kind of a bossy stick-in-the-mud at first

Side note, its easy to think of kouji as being a lot more serious and mature compared to the rest of the frontier kids, but honestly, I have to wonder if he wouldve acted differently if ophanimon wasnt calling him all the damn time telling him that he has to find answers! hes gotta get stronger! theres something he Has To Know!!! like damn if ophanimon was that specific with the other kids they'd also probably be just as sullen. anyway, kouichi would be feeling the same kind of pressure.

in an attempt to make it more interesting for me, chiaki and teruo are now siblings. or close cousins. or something. (what if they were fraternal twins?? that would be so funny actually. there is a statistically improbable amount of twins here!) AND bc i like chiaki the most i think she'd make a cool leader of sorts! like, the lancer to kouichi. kouichi ends up accidentally being the leader bc hes so driven, and chiakis like, a genuinely nice person who really wants to help the digital world as soon as she steps off the first trailmon onto the flame terminal. she also doesnt take shit from anyone. maybe she was a quiet wallflower-type kid at school, but, if its for another's sake, then she'll always speak up! so now, in the digital world, she cant stay quiet!

ah i love just making shit up. this is fun

so together, they make the most chillest leader/lancer duo ever. (hey, if they WERE to be the two Main Ones, wouldnt it be cool if their Susanoomon-type evolution was deep-sea themed? mix darkness and water together, and you get The Fucking Abyss. it could be bioluminescent! a cool way to turn "light into darkness!")

btw, im not drawing any spirit forms here bc I think these kids would have alternative spirit forms as opposed to the evil ones in the show. like, heroic looking ones (basically, no child deserves to have to spirit evolve into grottomon) BUT im no good at character design and that sounds like a lotta work. also, the other spirits (fairymon, chakkmon, agnimon, etc,) would need evil forms too then, right?? that sounds like a REALLY hard thing to try drawing, so nah. just imagine these kids spirit evolving and fighting offscreen. speaking of the other spirits though,

i want chakkmon/tomoki to try pummeling the shit out of katsuharu and teppei!! karmas a bitch!! tomoki didnt get to have his character development in this AU, bc he (probably) fell off the trailmon train tracks and got Got by cherubimon!

i like the main frontier kids too much to not include them in everything i draw Ever, so imagine that maybe they all came to the digital world alone, and wandered around until they found their respective spirits (in similar circumstances to the show) but since those spirits belongto cherubimon, theyre possessed/convinced to fight on cherubimons side!! like "oh shit i have no friends and i hate my life, yea this big evil bunny has a point lets go fuck shit up". maybe some of them are fully in control of their actions, maybe some arent. maybe some of them remember that theyre human, but maybe some of them dont....?

lastly, i have to apologize bc i got completely sidetracked bc i thought "oh takuya and kouji would be very funny as team rocket-esque villains" so heres flamon and strabimon but Evil™

i like to imagine that theyre the Most Incompetent of cherubimons Evil Guys but theyre the only two (that cherubimon knows of) that can form susanoomon so THATS why hes trying to collect all the spirits. bc of that, they DEFINITELY dont remember that theyre human. (bc of that, they also kind of dont have anything to care about, so theyre just trying to have fun)

it would be fun if they were initially kind of lame but although they may be idiots, theyre not Dumb, so they slowly become competent at the same rate as the Heroes do, and instead of a sephirothmon arc theres like.......a beowolfmon and aldamon arc??? im not a writer i dont know. watch these five kids (and counting!) get slowly hunted by two fucking Beasts in the darkest forest ever.

or maybe they do Actually manage to collect all the spirits but it goes so horribly wrong and now theres like ten goddamn kids and ten spirits mashed up in the psyche of a very unstable susanoomon and its just some fucked up Twisted psychological nightmare. digimon evangelion.

basically in this AU, there is even MORE wild tone shifts and the plot goes Absolutely Fucking Bonkers. and takuya's cosplaying Jotaro Kujo for some fucking unknown reason.

thank you for asking! this was....probably not what you were going for, but c'est la vie

[fishfingersalad]

big post of all my random rvb au ideas and some hcs, decided this was more reasonable than making like 20 different posts.

Hc the freelancers who die are like submarines that go missing, officially still out on patrol. Florida is the only freelancer that is officially gone from the program. A rumor starts that the freelancers suits are in some way connected to the us states so people think that when florida (state) blew up, so did Agent Florida's armour killing him in the process

 (I'm an ace Tucker believer) Y'know how Tucker gets charged child support for a bunch of kids post chorus? I don't think he has any kids outside of Junior. I think a bunch of people who got pregnant post temple of procreation were like shit idk the kids other parent. Uhhhh. Let's just say it was the rich famous planetary hero guy who claims to have slept with everyone. He probably doesn't even remember the people he's slept with. And then Tucker, asexual who has had sex one (1) time and realised he didnt like it very much, is stuck between revealing to the whole goddamn planet that he doesnt actually fuck, and paying a billion dollars of child support.

In an everyone lives no one dies type au I think Donut gets Maine, Locus, South, and Wash to come to his wine and cheese hour and he does their makeup and their nails.

Au where Sigma is just so fucking invested in getting Maine and Wash to date that he doesnt do anything evil. "Agent Maine, I think you will find this course I have signed you up for quite informative" Sigma this is a couples wine and pottery class "Oh look, is that Agent Washington over there? you should go say hi."

Au where Wash and Epsilon bond. It still fucks Wash up and shit, cause yknow. Epsilon issues. But Wash goes like "I am going to fucking kill the director he fucked you ai over so much" And Epsilon is so taken aback bc of Alphas view of Wash from an outside, heavily filtered perspective made him seem happy go lucky, innocent, and a bit naive.

Au where the freelancers find out that the director is Linas dad and behind her back they're all like "hey is she okay? why does he talk to her like that?" but then whenever she's around they just accuse her of nepotism. Gamma and Sigma team up to hack the leaderboard and change her name to nepotism baby.

I love South. I wish she existed more. I wish her and North and Theta could have gotten along. I wish Theta could suit jump like Omega and Alpha. I wish Theta could spend time with South. Like yeah South wouldn't like having to share an ai with her brother but like. He's their littlest brother.

Junior and Theta could autism bond. I think they'd both like comics. Also Junior teaches Theta basketball and Theta teaches Junior to skate. Skateboard kid plus scooter kid. I think Palomo would like to skateboard too. Wash and Palomo both helped teach Theta to skateboard. Wash bc he's friends w North, Palomo bc he's at the skatepark frequently. Jensen roller skates, she's... okay at it. not good. but okay. She broke her tailbone trying to impress Palomo. Andersmith would work at a youth center that the teens hang out at. Matthews works at a movie theatre, Bitters watches a movie there every week, maybe just to see Matthews.

Sarge werebear. Simmons vampire. Grif faun. Donut Light Elemental. Lopez is a ghost that got stuck in a shitty robot Sarge built. Church and the ai are ghosts, Tex is a vampire, Caboose is a werewolf (big doggy :3). Siren Tucker. Deep sea mermaid Junior (glowing octopus type stuff). Faun Kai (same as Grif). Carolina’s a Phoenix. Wash some kind of big cat thing. Florida Shapeshifter (he prefers being reptiles). The twins are demons. 479er is a harpy. York poltergeist (throws stuff at people). Wyoming's some kind of “answer my riddles three” type of imp. Ct is also a shapeshifter. Maine’s just a regular guy with a lot of weird friends. Felix and Locus are a fire elemental and a dryad respectively. Siris is a water elemental. In my au Donut’s a light elemental which makes it so fucking funny if Church pops up and says "boo" Donut just fucking decks him. and through Church being a ghost (a form of light) and Donut being a light elemental, Donut’s fist connects. South is the demon people are more likely to fear, but North is the one you really need to look out for. When South loses her temper people get frightened, when North loses his temper people die. If there's like. a group of kids exploring or something North’ll hold South back from doing anything more than scaring them. If there's a priest attempting an exorcism or someone with a cross threatening South, their organs will be found separately from their bodies. 

It's kinda funny when people make Church and Lina siblings and then Tex is just some random girl that Church likes. Like I fully understand why and the only other alternative i can think of is like. Church is the director's younger brother who was raised alongside his daughter after their parents died. and Tex is Allison's younger sister. Only way I could put together Church kinda being the director and Tex kinda being Allison but also Church and Lina being siblings without there being any relation between Tex and Church.

Florida and Ct have a coworker friends relationship i think. When they first met I think Florida said something vague and threatening to her so she pulled a knife on him. They've been sort of friends ever since.

[hyatoro]

have u ever considered making playlists for the yans?? and on the topic, what kinda music do they listen to? though i guess aside from classical, mr carver doesnt have much of a choice considering the time period he’s in… 😭

I don’t see myself doing full playlists, but I can drop some songs that I feel suit them. It could be the song vibe itself, the lyrics, or because it’s a genre I see them listening to. I mostly listen to Asian music though, so that’ll greatly influence things.

Franklin Russell Fall Out Boy - Alone Together I think it’d be funny if he was a Fall Out Boy kid and would listen to this with big headphones while his sisters knocked on his bedroom door to take out the trash or something. He listens to it and is like, yeah. What if we WERE alone together…Haha jk…unless?

Marianas Trench "Cross My Heart" This one too. Basically the songs where it feels clingy? That’s his vibe. Music from around 2010 is his jam, but in current day people think he listens to a bunch of pop, which he does.

Hwang Minsu 米津玄師 - 海の幽霊 Kenshi Yonezu - Spirits of the Sea It’s a song he’d both listen to but also relate to when he meets you the reader. It’s a song that’s chill but otherworldly. Listening to it makes him feel like his lungs fill with air, like his life has meaning once more. I’d assign this song to him for vibes and lyrics.

Nightcore - Mayday Parade Anywhere But Here BIG on it specifically being the Nightcore version. This is before he meets you lol. It has to be the nightcore version in his case cause the original doesn’t feel right to him.

Kayden Nguyen

CHẠY NGAY ĐI (ONIONN REMIX)

THÚ VỊ HƠN VẬY - TRỌNG HIẾU (ft. Quỳnh Anh Shyn)

WREN EVANS - bé ơi từ từ

I listen to V-Pop and I see Kayden’s music taste being a little fuck boi-ish. So these songs are like the genre of music he’d listen to rather than how he feels as a character. So he gets a third song cause the V-Pop scene needs more attention.

Augustine Carver Fujii Kaze - Shinunoga E-Wa Big on the lyrics here for this dude. It’s also his entire vibe, especially post-story him once he gets attached to you. Tired of saying goodbye, choosing you over everything else, and most importantly wanting you to be his last because 1) his first (saintess) is dog shit. And 2) he fucking loves you and has dedicated the rest of his life to righting whatever wrongs he’s done to you and more.

Yo-Yo Ma, Kathryn Stott - The Swan (Saint-Saëns) A classical piece for my wonderful knight boy. The Swan by Sain Saens is how he feels when he gets to dance with you at balls. Everything besides you two is drowned out and it’s a deep and fully encompassing love. His mind is at utter peace when he’s with you.