Thinking about Ghost as a children's swim instructor- Mr Riley, or just Mr Simon to the littles.
Big, scarred hands gently cradling their little fat bellies, lifting the babies up to splash and wriggle, bouncing them as they squeal. The older ones get the same careful handling, showing them how to float, how to grasp the side wall of the pool- "very good," he tells them in the deep, serious voice children love, as firm as if he was speaking to an adult.
The older children are in a separate class, and crowd Simon at every lesson, bursting all over to tell him about something new they learned, as he sections them out and starts moving down the line, prompting backstrokers and doggy paddlers alike.
The first time he yelled- used his dad voice, one boy whispered delightedly- it was not to the kids but a parent, more occupied with fluttering her lashes at him than keeping an eye on her kid, too far into the deep end and spluttering.
It's why you bring your kids to his classes specifically- he doesn't mess around, doesn't play favorites or let the kids break rules, sets them up for success instead of failure, and if the soaked, long-sleeve black shirt and matching swim pants cling deliciously when he finishes and climbs out, well, what's the harm in looking?
(only once the lesson is done and your kids are safely in your arms, of course. You don't want to get yelled at either- even if that dad voice had haunted a few of your dreams)
- Jounouchi, Mai, and Malik all love doing the press circuit; Rishid and Honda tag along, indifferently; Amelda uses it for political soapboxing so they don't let him and Valon do it anymore; Kaiba flatly refuses and no one tries to make him. Mokuba and Yuugi would be great at doing press but again the Kaiba "i'm not your show pony I won't do tricks" factor prevents them
- Rishid and Kaiba are the only Rangers who have been formally paired with two other people (Isis and Malik, Mokuba and Yuugi/Yami.) Jounouchi and Yuugi technically as well but they were never the primary Ranger pair for their Jaeger. As a result Rishid's kaiju kill count is one or two behind Kaiba's bc of his battles with Isis and his battles with Malik. Unlike Kaiba, he's the supporting Ranger for his more take-charge siblings, playing the same role Mokuba played for Kaiba.
- Rangers don't get to choose their Jaeger names or color schemes; Pegasus chooses for them, and is weirdly good (👁️) at choosing things they love
- Kaiba is stationed in Domino not bc he's from Domino but bc Pegasus is the only Marshal equipped (👁️) to handle him. The former is the official reason and the latter is the "lol we manipulated/strong-armed this guy and he's not happy about it" reason
- the Rangers invariably set the tone for their Shatterdomes. As a result, Lima is permissive, indulgent, and indifferent to rule-breaking; Anchorage and Hong Kong are social, friendly, and fun; Sydney is fiery and principled; Domino is all work, no play. Not so much gloomy as intense. San Francisco WAS known for being eccentric and gleefully nerdy.
- Ranger candidates generally train in the Honolulu or Anchorage Shatterdomes. How many candidates there are at one time, and how many actually become Rangers, is an ongoing battle of wills between Pegasus (more) and Dartz (only the best)
- Rangers generally undergo some kind of "couples/family" therapy regimen together in order to make the stresses and anxieties of Drift easier to manage, and it was effective for most Rangers. On the other hand, Kaiba was, you know, defiantly immune.
tags: canonverse, manhandling, internalized homophobia, set in 2016
summary: jungkook's testing what he can get away with. all hoseok wants is not to get caught.
ch 3/?: 7.8k (22k so far, wip)
“What do you want from me, Jeon Jungkook?” he huffs. He tries to shoulder Jungkook away playfully, but the boy doesn’t budge, barely even sways at the shove. When did he get so heavy, anyway?
Jungkook looks up at him under his lashes, fingers still hooked up into his shorts, poking dimples into his thigh.
“You know what.” His voice is quiet, still deep in that artificial, posturing way, but this time it sets Hoseok’s heart tumbling in his chest, traitorous.
In my Berserk Marvel!AU, Guts is Latina. Bio-parents linched by racist vigilantes crossing the USA/Mexican border. Raised by Cartels, Guts joined the Marines to escape her criminal life. Came out as trans a year into her marriage to Casca in her late 20s.
Casca is Black/Desi. Black American Father and a recently immigrated Indian mother. Joined the Army to maintain the family tradition.
Farnese is WASP. Old Cop family, going back 2 centuries. Left the police after realizing how corrupt the system was (mostly because she was sexually assaulted by another cop and the system did nothing).
The First Hunt, taking place 2 months after Griffiths ascension, takes place in 2016.
Basket seastar!hybrid reader who is used to being a little...left out. Too many branching limbs, the standard human-like trunk and shoulders extending at the elbow in not a single arm but multiple splits, a vast fern-like explosion of arm/hand/finger things, constantly shifting and exploring. A nightmare to manage with clothes so you often modify your uniform to be sleeveless, which means everyone gets a direct view of your limbs.
And none of them like it.
Too creepy, too weird and the movement freaks people out, the way the tiniest of phalanges curls and twists. You train yourself to wind the fronds tight together, make a single or double limb, but inevitably you lose control and it all explodes out again.
You learn to stay in the back of the room, to hide when possible, and even the skills that brought you to the 141- the way you can type a code, write a message, and field strip a weapon all simultaneously- are better off in the shadows, where your new team can't get too...upset. Can't snap and sneer, wiping off their arms and hands if they accidentally touch you, shoving you away if your fronds start to reach for them or anything they're holding.
"The fuck're you doin' back here?"
You look up at your lieutenant. Ghost is glaring down at you, dark eyes scowling out of his balaclava. "Um...eating?" Your hand-frond curls around another French fry. Salt, oil, potato, a preservative in the potato. Greasy fingers that prepped it all onto the tray.
"Yeah, and why alone? Team eats together, that's the rule," he says, and jerks his thumb over to the table he and the sergeants are at. He grabs your tray, and you don't have a choice but to follow.
The other men welcome you warmly, and to your astonishment, they don't skitter away as your phalanges spread over the table, touching their trays, an instinct you can't fully reign in. Soap's drink slides across the table towards you, and you wince, fronds peeling away from it. Aluminum, paint, fresh water in the condensation, and your microscopic hooks leave little marks in the logo.
"Sorry! Sorry, I can...get you a new one..." You trail off, because he's shrugging and taking his drink back, touching it easily.
"Eh, if I was that worried about it, I'd get it myself. You're fine, love," he adds, and your throat is tight. Is this really all it takes? One tiny kindness?
Gaz grins. "Look, I know you're worried, but we really do not give a shit about all- this," he gestures to your wide, branching baskets of arms, "outside of what it means for our missions. Do you know how many weird bugs that one has brought home?"
He nods to your left, and you look over to Ghost, where he's examining the delicate phalanges that have spread over his arm with the care and focus of a master watchmaker. He strips off a glove, and your breath catches in your chest as he touches the very tip of a frond with his finger- a tiny burst of taste, salt-skin-oil-cotton, the base building blocks of the man called Ghost- and shakes it solemnly, like he's meeting you for the first time.
Soap pats your shoulder, and doesn't twitch when your arm splits in surprise. "Not that you're a bug! But, y'know, when you get two hours in a transport home being told all about the way this beetle works and lives, you start to see the beauty in the strange. And nothing's stranger than our LT!"
He's grinning, easy and relaxed even as your arms start to steal his spoon. Stainless steel, oils from his skin, cheap plastic handle. Gaz loses a couple of his own French fries, and takes a few of yours in return, and you sit there with your arms wide open, a basket getting bigger with every surprised, delighted thump of your heart.
Thinking about being double-teamed by Ghost and König. Ghost got you spread over his lap, chest pressed to yours, your face buried in against his throat while you cry from overstimulation as he keeps his cock warm in your pussy, König pounding at your ass.
He cups his hand around the back of König's neck, reminding him to be gentle, your little hole isn't used to being stretched out around a massive cock. He whines, nuzzling at your neck, against Ghost's mask, his frantic movements slowing into a deep grind.
Your belly is so full of cock you can feel your brain melting. Holes stretched and stuffed, pussy drooling, the lube from your ass smeared in fingerprints over your thighs and hips. Every time König bottoms out, his balls kissing Ghost's, you cry a little more, mouth slack.
Ghost cradles König's cheek, smiles at him, then catches at the dog tags he wears- his, yours, and Ghost's, the body-warm metal jingling. "Good boy. Go on, fill up that cute little hole," and König groans and shudders and pumps so much cum into your guts you feel it sloshing, thick and creamy.
Only when he's done does Ghost push you both down, your ass still plugged up with König's cock, and start fucking your pussy with heavy snaps of his hips, as you sob and clench around him, milking König's cock with every squeeze, so cock-drunk that you barely even notice yourself cum, a wash of heat and pleasure that just builds on everything else, pussy and clit throbbing as Ghost uses your hole for himself.
Ghost x afab!reader, jumping on that portal pussy bandwagon, anal, pussy eating, chat is it selfcest if you eat yourself out?, dom/sub vibes
Ghost tosses the portal pussy in front of you, as his cock prods at your asshole, smearing the lube and slick he'd pulled out of you with his fingers before shoving the other half of the portal over your cunt.
You blink at it, hazy, and Ghost drags your wrists into the small of your back. "Eat it."
"Huh?"
You jerk forward over the mattress, chin digging into it, and the pussy- your pussy- bumps your lips. You feel it, a soft brush against your folds, and gasp.
"I said, eat it. Until I say done," Ghost answers, and forces his cock into your ass with a brutal snap of his hips. You moan, body sliding again, and one hand holds your wrists as the other grips the back of your head, briefly forcing you down, lips parting across your own pussy, tasting your slick, clit throbbing on your tongue.
Fuck, oh fuck, hard fat cock in your ass and the musky-sweet taste of yourself, not licked off Ghost's fingers or cock but straight from the source, and you moan as your tongue curls over your clit. The matching sensation spurs you on, needing more, sucking at yourself as Ghost sets a fast, hard rhythm, taking your ass for himself while you feast on your pussy.
Each lick and suck hits you twice over, the mindfuck of it all, eating out a soft, wet pussy but feeling it on your own body, learning how to make yourself feel good from a new angle, no fingers to help you, just your own tongue wriggling into your hole, fucking yourself on it, drool and slick smearing across your cheeks. You suck your clit hard and lose the rhythm immediately, eyes rolling at the dual sensations, as Ghost keeps steadily gaping your ass open around his cock.
"Fuck, oh- I can't," you gasp, and lick across your pussy from hole to clit, shuddering. You know what you need to come but you can't do it, too lost in the pleasure of your tongue and lips, and Ghost takes the back of your head again and shoves you down into your pussy again, this time holding you there as you pant and squeal. Your ass burns around his cock, the clenching muscles only making it worse, pussy so sloppy wet it's obscene, feeling the spasms on your tongue as you moan, clenching around your tongue like a toy.
You can feel Ghost, you realize, the relentless pound of his cock rubbing against your tongue through the thin barrier between pussy and ass, and your tongue curls and your pussy gushes, his hand on your head and the powerful motions of his body forcing you to- grind against yourself, tongue rubbing up and down, in and out, you can't stop it and can't move against or for it, just riding the pressure and heat as it builds in your belly.
Your pussy clamps down, spasms building, and you pant and whine as your tongue is dragged over your clit again. Oh fuck, fuck fuckfuck, gonna come- "Baby, fuck, gonna come," you slur, sloppy with your own gushing fluids, and Ghost grunts behind you, picking up speed.
His cock splits your ass open, and you start to come as he pulls all the way out and shoves back inside, making you take it, and your clit grinds across your tongue as you lap over it, a little throbbing pulse, and oh god, the way your tongue is so wet and hot on your pussy, feeling your breath stutter, you can just barely suck at it and wriggle your tongue into your hole and fuck- oh shit-
"Cum, cumming," you moan, and the squeezing clench of your pussy echoes between your thighs and on your tongue, wet smears sticking to your cheeks and chin as Ghost groans, feeling your orgasm in your ass, as you milk at his cock. The musky scent of your come fills your nose, the soft folds swollen on your cheeks, your own sweet, precious little pussy, eaten and sucked, you know what it feels like now, to make yourself come on your tongue, and you moan and shudder when your lips rub over your clit again.
Ghost pants, his hips slapping hard to your ass, and you muffle a shout into your pussy as he puts his weight on you, crushes you into the mattress, hips forced flat. The angle of your pussy in the portal changes, and your clit rolls between your lips, scraping your teeth, and a sharp burst of slick fills your mouth as a hard clench burns through you.
You squeal, breathless, and Ghost sighs pleasure into your ear as he comes, the hot bursts in your ass, his cock slipping back and forth in the mess he's making of your insides. You gasp when he lets up, releasing your wrists and head properly, leaving you to roll your cheek away from the portal, your pussy all soft and slick in your blurry vision.
His hand slides between your legs, and abruptly the portal is moved up, pussy vanishing from sight, instead replaced with a swollen little pucker- your asshole, gaping just a little, with thick creamy come dripping out to the rhythm of your pounding heart.
Ghost drags the portal back to your face, and sets your lips against it, his cock now notching at the tender entrance to your pussy.
