#but because their attitudes are just so fucking rancid and that has infected their audience. because that audience is all thirteen year old

[stoportotouch]

what have i been on about today? popular conceptions of classical music? better make it a solid 3/3 by saying that i also want ludovico einaudi to drop off the face of the earth along with all of his nothing-music.

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

Avast, me hearty crazy bitch!

Ok, so what are your most fucked up thoughts on these for Captain Blowhole?

How much of an exhibitionist is he? Does he want his buddies to see you raise the main mast?

How much of a badass is he? Like, how does he defend his ladies (dubious) honor lol? Tell me about a pirate brawl!

And after, I’m sure he’ll make you doctor him up before he swabs then deck with you.

I hate myself so much right now.

Captain Jack has a good pick up line for you 🤣

@safarigirlsp CUMMIN’ BACK WITH HER BULLSHIT THAT I FUCKIN’ LOVE WITH ALL MY HEART AND SOUL!

Is Captain SS Blowhole an exhibitionist? 

Well, he has to assert his dominance somehow, and these lowly deck rats need to know your his prize and his only. Of course, he would show off his lil’ treasure to the whole crew, making sure you’re dressed like an absolute queen (also a whore) parading you around like he’s found Davey Jones’ Locker itself.

And when one of the crewmen gets a lil’ fishy with you, grabbing your ass when it’s not welcome, he’ll punish them in the most fitting way he possibly can. Making you whimper on his cock feeds his soul. He loves it when you cry out his name like a pirate song, making your voice raise higher and higher as he gets into your nooks and crannies, exploring your shores like he hasn’t a million times before. Only this time, he has an audience to impress. Your bent over the top deck, the wheel at your side, skirt raised up over your ass. He marvels at your submissive behavior, “little whore,” slapping the skin as hard as he possibly can with the crew watching in wait, taking in your facial expressions. 

“You’re soaking wet,” running his finger along your slit, gathering the sweet nectar and sucking the spend off his digit, “you like being my little pet, huh?” 

Slapping your other cheek, leaving perfect handprints on the skin, “you like putting on a lil’ show for my whole crew don’t you skank?” smirking as he glanced over at the wide-eyed men, gazing as you moaned from his words.

“Fuckin’ answer me!” slapping your pussy as hard as he possibly could, making your cry out his name, “that’s fuckin’ right, Y/N! Tell them who you belong to!” 

He lines his cock with your entrance, pushing in as you wail his name into the wind once again. He grips your hips in earnest and bottoms out his main mast until it knocks on your cervix, “you’re so fuckin’ tight for me, slut. No matter how much I fuck this rancid pussy, it’s always chokin’ my kraken to death!” 

Pummeling your shores the best he possibly can, as the whole crew raise their collective masts at your whining and moaning on their captain’s cock. 

“You gonna be a good lil’ skank and cum on your captain’s cock?” he pants, shoving a finger into your engorged clit, “fuckin’ answer me, whore!” spitting on the back of your head as he rubs tight circles around the sensitive bud. 

“G-god yes! Flip yes!” you arch into his gyrations, your orgasm spilling out of you like the ghost of Blackbeard had escaped your body. 

“G-good girl!” he grunted, pumping into your soaking cunt a few more times before releasing his swimmers into your City of Atlantis. 

From then on, the crew didn’t budge when advancing on you, although they did pleasure themselves to the scene from time to time in the comfort of their bunks at night. 

How much of a badass is Captain Blowhole you say? 

I’ll set the fuckin’ scene...

We’re on the hunt for the heart of Davey Jones, because, control of the high seas like who doesn’t want that shit? 

Anyways, the ship gets sideswiped by the British Royal Navy, taking us captive so they can get Flip to talk about what he knows about the treasure. 

“Where’s Y/N?” he snarls, forced to sit in a chair in the commander’s office, plotting his escape plan as the wigged asshole questions his motives. 

“She’s safe,” he sneers, “now tell us what you know about the heart.” 

Flip sits up, looking out the window into the abyss, “I ain’t tellin’ you shit,” he spits in the direction of the commander's feet, to which the bastard slaps him over his chiseled face. 

“You ought to have better manners than that, Captain,” he taunts, rubbing his knuckles adorned with brass, “I don’t want to have to kill you.” 

“Try me, asshole,” Flip spits again, this time mixed with blood. 

The splatter lands on the crisp white uniform, and his cheek, to which he wipes the remainder off on Flip’s coat, “oh what a pity,” he stares down, preparing to lunge back on Flip again, “I really thought we could get along Mr. Zimmerman,” landing a blood-curdling punch on his right cheek, no doubt dislocating his jaw in the process, more blood oozing out as his head hung lazily from the blow. 

“Are you going to cooperate now, Captain?” he lifts his head to meet his gaze. 

Just then, the restrained Flip breaks from the ropes, dagger in hand, pushing the commander's tiny figure onto the edge of his desk, “I don't know, commander,” he whispered menacingly, “am I going to cooperate?” plunging the dagger into his chest, watching his eyes dilate from the shock of the metal piercing his rapidly beating heart. 

Flip stood there, watching as the leader crumbled in death, only pulling the knife when he knew he’d passed to make his way out of the quarters. His mission... find you and take you back to his ship. 

As he exited, he was met by a group of British soldiers, pointing their weapons at him. 

“Ya wanna dance, ladies?” he smirked holding his blood-soaked dagger with one hand and removing his gun from his back with the other. 

“Let’s fuckin’ dance!” he advanced on the group, a clash of swords and gun powder clouding the brawl. Flip slashing through them all as if they were butter, leaving no man untainted by his rage. The sounds of skull-cracking and blood gushing from the hallways as he trudged his way through the wall of enemies. 

He emerged from the wreckage once the last man had fallen at his feet, soaked in blood, pocketing his gun and gripping his knife in case of other intruders. 

He made his way down to the dungeon, hearing your cries for him in the cell they’d locked you in. 

“Flip!” you screamed as he came into focus, “Oh my god! You’re alive!” crying as you grasped his face as he put his hand through tp bars to meet yours as well. 

“Oh, my sweet siren!” he cried, petting your cheeks, “let’s go back to the Roger,” looking around for something to break the lock. 

As he turned to look for a device, another soldier came bounding from the shadows, sword in hand as he sliced into Flip’s shoulder. 

“Motherfuck!” he cried out, hauling his dagger into the man’s side, making him bleed out on the prison floor. 

“Holy shit, sailor!” you cried reaching for your captain, “are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, sugar,” he smiled, reaching for the key and unlocking the door to grip you in his strong arms, “let’s get the fuck out of here!” 

------------ 

(later on the Jolly Roger) 

“Fuck, Y/N!” he winced as you tended to his many scratches and wounds on his shoulders and face. 

“You need to sit still, sailor,” you gave him the stink eye as he shied away from you for the millionth time since you’d begun, “them getting infected won’t do you much good.” 

“I know, I know,’ he conceded, trying to take all the aftercare he could with the best attitude. 

“Besides,” you smirked, placing a wrapping around the biggest wound on his deltoid, “how’s my captain gonna bed me well if he’s all cut up and bleeding?” 

He smirked, bringing his hand to meet your cheek as it glowed in the candlelight, “oh my lil’ siren, this captain is never tired or bloodied enough for you,” bringing your face into a searing kiss in the closeness of your shared quarters. 

------ 

WHAT THE FUCK JUST EVEN HAPPENED.... I NEED A CIGARETTE NOW. 🚬🚬🚬

🖤,

ray-nal-beads