#CLOWN ALLEY band

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

AMERICAN STYLE IN '87 -- NONE COOLER.

PIC INFO: Spotlight on Lori Black, a.k.a., "Lorax," former bassist in American hardcore punk & alternative metal bands CLOWN ALLEY & MELVINS, pictured here on her way to Clown Alley’s last show, supporting SUICIDAL TENDENCIES in Salt Lake City, Utah, c. 1987. 📸: Mark Deutrom.

Source: www.picuki.com/tag/clownalley.

[arjudy224]

Alfred’s extra help

Batfamily x new maid part 1

The past couple years haven't been kind to Alfred. Although, he would never admit it... His years have slowly been catching up with him. After a recent attack on the household, Alfred took it upon himself to hire some extra part time help during the school year. The new help just so happened to be a college band kid in desperate need of money. This is how it went.

Jason:

It was the little things, Jason had decided, that made the family enjoy the extra addition to the household. The faint singing that could be heard three doors down as she made her usual morning rounds. Dusting. Bleaching . Sweeping. It didn't matter what she was doing: music always played in her head. If you were lucky, sometimes you'd get to hear it too.

Alfred:

Monday Mornings were Alfred's favorite. After a long weekend of dealing with super-powered vigilantism, Alfred looked forward to the way she would clock into Wayne Manor with shy grin. It didn't take much prompting to get a play by play of how the Gotham U football game went. The Batfamily had never considered her being targeted by Batman's Rogue Gallery until Halftime was interrupted by the Joker emerging from a comically large birthday cake. When reinforcements arrived, they were shocked to discover the entire Color Guard beating the Joker senseless with their wooden rifles. To any outsider, this would have appeared to be part of the choreography with the way each guard member chanted "5,6,7,8 SLAM DOWN."

Y/N couldn't figure out why Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin had all come to check on her until Monday morning when the door opened to reveal a hallway full of smiling Wayne's. Even Damian couldn't help, but give her a hug... after an intense lecture on how dangerous the Clown Prince of Crime was.

Even more confusing was the way Damien's older brother, Jason, would always end up forgetting something at the manor when she worked. After chatting for a couple hours, she would say her goodbyes and silently acknowledge the fact he left empty handed... again.

Damien:

Damien admired the dedication on display. In the early morning mist when she thought nobody was awake, the wooden rifle would make an appearance. With the kitchen wiped down and the oven on self cleaning, all there was to do was wait. Damien admired her resilience when practicing rifle. Each brutal slap of the wood and metal on skin had to be painful, but she never complained when the bruises littered up and down her forearms. She was radiant. In her element, it was easy to get distracted by the crisp rotations on display. One day, he hoped she would feel comfortable enough to show him a few tricks... until then he enjoyed his early morning performances.

Dick:

Dick had warned her against working for Bruce from the beginning. The Bats mood swings could drain even the sweetest of souls. The relentless pursuit of a better Gotham has always been tainted by the blood of those lost. Bruce Wayne was not always known as the nicest guy to work for. Yet, after years of witnessing the tragedies of Gotham... Dick couldn't help, but notice the way her eyes shone with excitement whenever they would visit a new part of the city. The alley Scarecrow tested his fear toxin for the first time now is littered with book shops, ice cream parlors, diners, etc. In each street that’s rooted with trauma, a new sprout of hope grows out of the shadows. The quiet formality that he had grown accustomed to growing up in the Manor faded away. It was a nice change.

Tim:

Tim didn't even notice there was a change in the household until he stumbled into her conversation with Jason for the 3rd time that week. Typically, her shift would have been over at 3pm, but since her classes had been canceled that day she had worked overtime. With Jason's sudden reappearance after months of no contact, Tim took note of the way his older brother's voice deepened ever so slightly whenever she was in the room. Or how during Saturday night patrol they always managed to spot Red Hood "doing business" on a building close enough to the stadium to watch halftime. If anybody questioned it, Jason would have fiercely denied any interest claiming that he was merely "watching out for the Joker".

Tim mostly minded his business whenever she was working. His night life tended to consume most of his waking time, so if he got sleep (big if) he tended to wake up hours after she left. Mostly he appreciated the cute little animals she would make out of the groceries that week. One day, he opened the fridge to a cheese ball that looked like a turkey. Two olives made the eyes and each of the turkeys feathers were made out of crackers. His favorite had to be when she made a Robin out of Bell peppers and Grapes. Tim had left his sketchbook out the night before flipped to that exact drawing. After she had cleaned the kitchen, she left the treat along with a note explaining how beautiful she thought the drawing was.

[queercodedvillains]

If you can I’d love to hear the outline/tldr of your Claire’s AU because the posts under that tag are always so funny to me

So the claires au tag started because I wanted to collect all my modern au inspo posts in one place. Since it all gravitates around my beloved little terrorist Deidara, and I think he'd do great at a dead end low effort retail job with a bonus perk of bullying giving piercings to tweens and a sick employee discount, the claire's au was born. In hindsight, I wish I had called it the mallrats au, but since the fics came after the tag, we're stuck with the consequences of my choices smh.

It's expanded significantly, to the point that its sooo hard to summarize, but I'm gonna try my best here!!

My general goal is to transcribe everything we know from canon as closely/creatively as I can to a modern/90s setting. Tbh this started because I just was not emotionally prepared to handle canon!akatsuki levels of fucked up war criminals and I just wanted to put them in low stakes shenanigans that keeps the core of their characters without all the murder and angst and action (I hate writing action. Horror is fun and dandy, but spin kicks and explosions and puppets are beyond me for now).

So in the claires au/mallrats cinematic universe, the Akatsuki are just a gang of queers doing your run of the mill criminal activity. Drug dealing, car stealing, chop shopping, gun running, book cooking, you name it. They all ended up kicked out of society for one reason or another, banded together, and became mundane villains of polite society.

For example, Sasori is always depicted as tinkering with his puppets. So I decided that tendency to methodically pull someone apart and back together, that special calculating mindset that it takes to look at a body and come up with twelve different secret weapons to hide in their limbs, would make the perfect fodder for a chop shop mechanic. Stolen cars instead of stolen corpses. He seems like he got the obsessing-over-cars brand of autism and I love him for it. He's weird and reclusive and pretentious and insufferable and genius.

Deidara likes explosives, duh, but guns are so boring imo so I wanted to dig deeper into his love of temporary beauty, and how that meshes perfectly with drugs. They're ephemeral, transient experiences that fade quickly but leave a lasting impact on a person, changing their life, etc. He's also. Super fucking pretentious about it. Don't let him corner you at a party. Sasori might be the chemist but Deidara is the real brains behind the operation, and also the very willing test subject. I see him as a club kid, always on one in the middle of the crowd, and entirely responsible for the Akatsuki's branding. He designed the clouds and the patented pressed pills (we got blue teslas, they got white owls, etc) and also is solely responsible for word of mouth advertising. He's always got a can of spray paint and/or a black business card with nothing but a phone number and a red cloud. He's always bright and loud and shiny and looking for attention in seedy places, always in the middle of the mosh pit or the dance floor or some sketchy back alley or the skate park (skating is kinda like riding a giant flying bird, right?) Either way, everyone wants whatever the fuck he's on.

Together they're a power couple. Absolutely nasty, insufferable to talk to, impossible to be around unless you're just as pretentious as them about their very specific interests AND willing to listen to them bicker endlessly about their arts. Naturally, they only have two friends. Kakuzu and Hidan.

I want to dig into their backstories and relationships later, narratively, but the barest bones of it is that Hidan is Deidara's childhood friend and professional pain in the ass. Class clowns in detention together, bullying the local nerds, weirdo queer kids with serious mental issues from broken homes, a scrappy sort of friendship born out of desperation for someone Like Them etc. I mean Hidan's got a nasty sadomasochistic streak, a propensity for self harm, and an obsession with the occult so don't get me started on him as your local satanic bad influence. Their whole thing could be its own post tbh.

Kakuzu and Sasori are like crotchety old men on the porch. They like to sit in some booth at the club talking shit and looking menacing while Deidara and Hidan are busy 'advertising'. I also see Kakuzu as a bit of a mentor to Sasori, being a bit older and wiser and seeing Sasori get dragged into the Akatsuki after dropping out of med school and being disowned by his grandmother (a whole other post as well) and spiraling into shitty coping mechanisms (alcohol, mostly). Kakuzu smacked some sense into him and got him sobered up because he loves that sad pathetic wet cat of a man they got money to make!!

If and when Sasori and Deidara split up to work, I see them pairing up with Kakuzu and Hidan, respectively. Every artsy twink needs their burly body guard, yknow?

I'm maintaining their age differences to some degree, although pinched closer. At the time Mallrats is set, Deidara is 25, Hidan is 26, Sasori is 32, Kakuzu is 40. Itachi and Kisame are also mid 20s, Konan and Pain and Zetsu and Tobi are in their 30s.

Deidara centric timeline wise (and trying to stick to canon as closely as realistically possible) he gets kicked out of his house for being fruity at 14, ends up couch surfing with Hidan (having 'sleep overs', or sneaking into his room when Hidan's mom said no but didn't care enough think to look under his bed/the closet/that pile of laundry) and when he can't pull that off, staying in the mall til after closing and posting up in there all night. After a while, someone in the Akatsuki notices him kicking rocks in a parking lot and realizes they need some scrappy kid to run a backpack from one end of town to the other without getting noticed. One thing leads to another and he ends up catching Konan's attention. She (30s, forgery and embezzling specialist, dyke and mother of the house) shuffles some papers, gets him his own apartment on the condition that he works for her and the money goes from their business associates to him to her to his landlord.

I have a soft spot for Konan doing this for anyone she can. Queer kids in the 80s and 90s didn't exactly have resources, and she did what she could with what she had, handing them a way to earn their own money and a safe place to live, even if its seedy and illegal. Beats the streets! Most of them were runners for a few years and aged out, she signed their SRO apartments off to them at 18 and they moved on with their lives. There's a whole host of people who only know her as Lady Angel (winknod to canon again) because she did what she could to save em. Deidara just happened to be too good at his job and got pulled higher and higher, until he landed in Sasori's shop.

That's about caught up to what I've gotten so far in Mallrats and The Waiting Room (with so much more to go. My muse is wildly overactive for the amount of time and attention span I got). I got head canons on like all the main characters from Konoha/Suna, all the Akatsuki, and the Sanin. Where they work, how they interact, how their relationships translate to mallrat/clubrat shenanigans, etc.

Every detail Sasori and Deidara falling in love? DUH. But also........... A complete dossier on everyone's kinks? Hidan and Deidara's gay awakening? Sasori's history with Orochimaru? The absolute fuckery that is any of their home life before the Akatsuki? Brazilian Kakuzu? Jashinism in a neopagan satanic context? Kakuzu and Hidan's perfectly vicious relationship? Konan as Lady Angel? Itachi darling son of the police chief working for the mob to spite his homophobic dad? Kisame... well, idk about Kisame, but if you care enough to develop it with me I could be convinced to!! The list goes ON.

I could go into heavier detail about so much more but this is already so long T^T. If you read this far thank u ilysm and I would be so delighted to get into more if you're interested!! The ask box is always open and I am foaming at the mouth over them at the drop of a hat <3

[fanaticsnail]

Hey!! I found your tumblr a while ago and today I managed to finish reading all your fanfics!! I'm simply in love with your writing!! Serious! You write so well!! I'm really enjoying dance fanfics!! I'm especially excited about dance fanfics, especially Luffy (the little summary you gave genuinely awakened my curiosity for this fanfic :> ) I would like to leave some more comments, here you go!!

Simply in love with how you write non-romantic interactions, but just friendship and camaraderie!! Like in the fanfic "Swing, Sway, Shag, Smimmy" between the Reader and her acrobatics partner or between the Reader and the Baratie chefs or even the Reader and her band in "Téir Abhaile Riú"!! You write them so well, I feel so good!! I would like to see more of this kind of thing in other fanfics and in other places (sometimes I like it more than the romance) pure camaraderie, friendship, silliness and joy among friends!! You do it in such a gentle and healthy way!! ><

I just read Mistletoe and I have no words!!! The kisses!!!! THE KISSES!!! Especially Luffy's and Usopp's!!!

I'm so happy with Usopp!! He has so few fics my boy ;-;, but it was really funny him running away and getting all nervous because of the possible kiss!! but at the time of the kiss I was like:

AND LUFFY'S!! I was so genuinely surprised!! In the bathroom!! Just in a towel!!! Do you want me to have a fit!!? The wink when he leaves the bathroom!! THIS LITTLE TROUBLE MAKER!! CHANGING THE MISTLETOE!! If you wrote him like that in this fanfic, I can't wait for his dance fic!!

Speaking of kisses…. What was that kiss in the alley with Koby!!! And here I thought it would be something more innocent!! I'm patiently and happily waiting for the third part!!

I saw a video on your tumblr of the AI's of Luffy and Sanji's actors singing, it seemed like that gave you an idea, will we have something in the future involving the two of them?

Well, I think that's it, sorry for the huge text and the grammatical errors, English is not my mother tongue… I look forward to your wonderful fanfics!! May your day be good and enjoyable!!

Oh my goodness. My heart. Thank you so much for sending this to me, I so appreciate the time you've spent reading through all of my fics. They're all a labour of love, and it brings me so much joy knowing you've enjoyed your time with them.

Thank you for your thoughts and notes regarding my writing style. I thoroughly enjoy deep-diving into the background of the "whys" and "if this, then this" - which is why I dwell so heavily on the background characters.

The way I am legitimately giddy at the fact that you're so diverse in your fic-reading that you've read not only the Buggy x reader x Mihawk, but my Koby x reader mini series also! Again, thank you for spending time with them.

I am yet to write properly for Usopp, but the need is absolutely there for him to have his moment in the spotlight. Writing his kiss may've awoken a desire to write for him - but having so many works in progress currently is putting a restraint around that desire.

I adore writing kisses - my first ever fic was my "one-shot" turned 15-part completed series "You Kissed the Clown?". The way you can see so many emotions behind something as simple as a kiss - the yearning, the wanting, the desire: it's beautiful.

Luffy's Bachata is very much playing in my mind of late. I can't wait to iron out the details and release it as a full fic! There's something about his mischievous attitude and playfulness that is so innocent and without filter - definitely a comfort-character if I ever did know one.

Yes. Koby. Koby. There is just something that screams "he's a quick learner" and not one to shy away from a challenge. I, too, thought it was going to be a quick little kiss - but when I write, the words get carried away and I just go with them. I blame my playlists; music is a powerful force.

Having a Sanji x Reader x Luffy fic is not something I currently have in the works: but that singing AI was just so beautiful, it's something I could definitely see in the future.

As someone that English is their mother tongue and still has grammatical errors - I appreciate you writing to me. Thank you for blessing me with encouragement. May your day be all the brighter with the swell of warmth that glows in the happiest of memories.

[discount-limeade]

Slipknot vs. Batman

This is clearly the natural progression from my last Knot review.

So how this is gonna go is, Slipknot are Touring during the Iowa Cycle. Tonight's show is in Gotham City. On the way to the venue, Several things go Awry.

Enter Batman.

Shout out to this Dome shot.

It's Robert Pattinson's Batman Because Slipknot could ONLY exist in The ReevesVerse.

0. Sid Wilson

Shriek

(I'm also gonna give them Villain Names)

Is Shriek the name of the chick from Venom? Guess we'll never know.

Stepping off the buss, Sid is immediately reeking of weed. Batman Took a D.A.R.E. course in grade school and knows that saying 'no to drugs' is Cool. Sid is Taken down With a Swift kick to the back of the Legs. He does not put up a fight.

1. Joey Jordison

Porcelain Prince

You know you like the name. Let's get this going.

Scavenging for some food Around the city, Batman sees Joey playfully punch Corey on the arm. "Violence is Wrong," The Dark Knight Whispers. Stalking his way towards the pair, He swoops in and Punches Joey in the Face. Dazed, Joey Let's out a "What the fuck, Are you Batman ??"

Another punch.

"Why the fuck are you on me?" The Smaller man Asks, Fear in his voice.

"Justice." A third punch is administered and Joey is down.

Corey is stunned as Fuck.

2. Paul Gray

The Filth

There's Already The Pyg.

Paul was Actually Caught up in a Case of Right place, Wrong time. Deciding to Tour the historic City, the Band Was Booked to Visit the Famed Wayne Manor. A few of the Men showed up Early to get a closer look without all the supervision. While the others were busy looking around, Paul was digging inside a Silver closet.

In that moment, the back wall shifted.

Batman emerged from the Shadows.

He'd heard of this new guy from the locals but didn't Quite believe the legends.

He introduced himself.

Batman Swiftly Tased him.

3. Chris Fehn

The Liar

Original, I know.

Stuck in Gotham due to harsh weather conditions, Chris found himself Playing Golf with The Social Elites. Alfred was in attendance that day, a rare day off from watching his Man Child Subordinate.

On a particular stressful hole, Alfred found himself glancing around, quickly spotting the long-nosed mask.

Chris was Jerking his nose nervously.

Seeing an older, clearly more experienced man struggle with the course was not a good sign of things to come. Had his mask been unzipped, he'd be biting his fingernails in anticipation.

Alfred doesn't like the way this guy is looking at him and making obscene Gestures.

After the game is over, he informs Bruce.

Chris is taken out from behind.

He lands one punch Batman's collar bone before he gets absolutely Folded.

4. James Root

The Collector/ Puppet Master

At this point I don't even Care if they're Iowa Era Pictures, you get the idea.

On the night of the show, Jim went into Gotham town Square To get a few Supplies (Tape and Beer).

Walking through the dim Streets, He happened upon a Robbery in progress.

Being a man of Substantial build, He Stepped in.

Taking the Purse from the Would-be Robber just as Batman pulled up.

Using his expert Detective skills, Jim was Obviously the robber and it definitely was NOT the guy running down the alley.

Batman begins his Assault.

Jim put up a good fight, his Ultimate Downfall being a nightstick to the Neck.

5. 133

Iron Spike

Sorry about the filter, I love this picture.

Walking through a crowded area, Craig was Shoved into a few people behind him.

Like a hungry shark, Batman smelled the blood.

Craig Stood no chance, Not that he even wanted to Try.

6. Clown

Reminds me of Chop Top With that hanger, scratchin his head.

Shawn was walking through the city talking at his Normal Loud Volume.

Some guys told him to Shut up.

This was met by audible winces from the accompanying Band Mates as The Clown made his way across the street To Fuck these guys up.

It took almost every tool on Batman's belt to get the man down.

Eventually he was thwarted by the Shark Repellant. It has some sort of chloroform like Agent in it.

7. Mick Thomson

Leather Devil

Once again just going with the mask name because it fits.

Trying to avoid the general public, Mick Found himself in a Quaint bar in the Narrows.

Unbeknownst to him, famed Kingpin Penguin had been tracking the band since they arrived in the city and was Currently approaching the Man.

"Long Night?" A hefty man sat on the stool Beside him. Mick grunted in agreement.

"Do you have a pen?"

Mick was getting Aggravated, he wanted to be left alone, Not sign autographs. Does it look like he has a fucking pen.

A disheveled looking Batman stubbles out of the bathroom at the same moment Mick stands up from the bar.

Penguin claps him on the back. "Maybe next time Micky."

Cobblepot in Cahoots with Slipknot? Time to step in and save the Day.

Mick Simply walks out of the bar before Batman can even think about an approach tactic.

8. Corey Taylor

The Creature

The famed creepypasta "Creature".

Back to Joey's entry.

Corey put up a fight to keep his friend from being beaten up. He jumped on The Bat's Back and tried to draw as much attention as possible to the scene.

He escaped this encounter relatively unharmed.

Taking note of Where his bandages had last been seen, he made it his Duty to get revenge on The Batman.

To be Continued...

Love Bad Fanfic. This didn't go nearly the way I thought it would but that's okay because It's still Exactly what it needs to be.

[quietblueriver]

Tell Me You Don't Know Me

Avatrice Week Day 1: Fake Dating/Undercover

They're in London when it happens. The OCS has sent them to check out a cell of Adriel’s followers apparently still peddling bullshit (and more importantly, maybe demonic possession) to anyone they can convince to spend time with them. The new method is more HBO-doc cult-y, starts with a fucking potluck apparently, before dipping (heh) into the more serious shit. They’re easy enough to find, still handing out honest-to-god flyers at various points across the city. 

Nobody recognizes Ava; it’s been almost a year and these days she’s back to crop tops and sneakers, experimenting with streaks of different colors in her hair. And some strategically planted misinformation from Kristian and Vincent and their sources means that nobody would really know what to look for, anyway. 

As for Beatrice, a few months ago she had asked Ava to come with her to get her hair cut, had gone in with her bun and come out with a clean fade and a very overcome girlfriend. She’s still figuring out her style but has moved almost exclusively to menswear, falling somewhere between hot professor (unsurprising, 10/10) and hot mechanic who has a side gig in a band (more surprising, also 10/10) depending on the day. Ava’s about it. Anyway, nobody is clocking Bea and her hard part as the assassin nun who fucked up a truly impressive number of Adriel’s clowns at various points during his campaign of bullshit. 

The OCS has a stupidly nice safe house where they’re crashing as they pick up intel (Ava’s still not sure what happened in Switzerland, not that she would trade it, but that Church money is real), and they’re headed back there, through Kensington, when Beatrice stops short, causing Ava to stumble. 

“Bea?”

Her eyes are fixed on a group of people stopped on the sidewalk, talking. They’re still some distance away but close enough to be recognizable. Ava knows immediately. 

“Okay, baby, okay, just come with me.” 

She pulls Bea into an alley nearby and steadies her against the wall, runs her hands up her arms, cups her face. 

“Hey, it’s okay. We can wait here or turn around or do whatever you want. I think I saw a coffee shop like 2 minutes back.” 

Bea shakes her head lightly, pulling herself back from wherever she’d gone when she saw her parents. She kisses Ava, pushing out from the wall and straightening her shoulders. 

“Fuck them. I’m not ashamed of myself. I am certainly not ashamed of you. I am happy, no thanks to them, and I will not apologize.” 

Therapy is the shit, Ava thinks, not for the first time. Yasmine came through with a connection, somewhat horrified that the OCS didn’t already have one—a very discreet former member of one of the seemingly endless secret sects of the Church. Doesn’t hurt for Beatrice that Margaret is unapologetically gay as hell. Doesn’t hurt for Ava that Margaret has a bomb therapist partner who also doesn’t bat an eye at shit like demonic possession. 

Ava is so full of pride and love for Beatrice that she might actually burst, has to exert a serious amount of control to keep the halo from lighting up the whole block. She’s bouncing on her toes to divert the energy. 

Also, like, Bea cursing will never not be hot, but Ava keeps a grip on that particular set of feelings for the moment. Later, in their cushy safe house, she can let Bea know exactly how attractive she is and try to make her curse for much more fun reasons. 

“I love you. I’m so proud of you. And also I really am okay if you want to avoid them. I know you’re not ashamed of me, and they don’t deserve you. They’ve never deserved you.” 

Bea kisses her again, tucks a strand of Ava’s hair behind her ear. 

“Honestly, they might not even recognize me. It’s been a long time and I’m now their worst nightmare.” Demonstrating her point, she runs her fingers through her own hair while pulling at the leather jacket she’s wearing and kicking the toe of one of her boots against the ground. “Basically a walking billboard for lesbianism.” 

(Ava had been with her at the thrift store when she found that jacket, had nearly lost her mind when Bea put it on. “Jesus, fuck, Bea, please get that and wear it home so that I can fuck you in it as soon as humanly possible.” Beatrice had reddened but purchased the jacket and put it on before they left the store. Ava was very proud that she didn’t catch them a public indecency charge, pulling them back to their apartment in record time. She had Bea against the door before it had even fully closed, running her hands appreciatively over the leather before dropping to her knees and admiring it, admiring Bea, from a different view.) 

“Incredibly effective billboard. Really overachieving in spreading the homosexual agenda, honestly. I have glared at at least half a dozen women today alone. And don’t get me started on how you lead me into temptation like it’s your fucking job.” 

The smile she gets is fond, fond, fond, and Beatrice kisses her sweetly. 

“I love you. Let’s go home. Does Thai sound okay?”

She grabs Bea’s hand and turns back toward the sidewalk. 

“Perfect.”

Ava notices Bea check her posture (impeccable as always) as they round the corner back onto the sidewalk and she stays close, placing the hand not wrapped in Bea’s on Bea’s forearm and squeezing. 

“I love you. I’m okay. I promise.”

The group is still standing there, half a dozen people talking in a circle outside of one of the ridiculously nice rowhouses that Kensington is full of. And okay Ava already hates these people and will until she dies (and resurrects and dies again, as things apparently go for her) but also how fucking rude are they, taking up the entire sidewalk like that’s an acceptable thing to do. 

She knows the second the first one clocks them, face going from regular stick-up-the-ass to tree-trunk-up-the-ass. She knows Bea sees it, too, because Bea sees everything all the time anyway, and she is on high alert right now. Bea holds her hand tighter and keeps walking. 

By the time they dip into the street to avoid their huddle (rude), they have the attention of the full group, which has gotten quiet and, like homophobic Ood, collectively begun to emit disapproval and disgust. Two of them, the two she had pegged as Bea’s parents, are especially focused on Bea as they pass. 

Ava has imagined kicking Bea’s parents’ asses too many times to count. What’s the actual point of having a magic, empathic, sort-of weapon embedded in her back if she can’t use it to absolutely fucking stomp her girlfriend’s shithead homophobic parents. Even without the halo, Ava could flatten them in a number of fun and creative ways, all poetically thanks to Bea. But she knows this is not about her; it’s about Beatrice, and her job as the person who loves Beatrice more than anything else in the world is to support her while she figures out how she wants to deal with these stupid fuckers. Of course, she does break out the face she reserves for cat-calling men, people who hit on Beatrice while Ava is literally right there, and the worst of Adriel’s goons. She’s only human and they’re fucking lucky she isn’t halo blasting them right out of their way, right out of England entirely. 

She feels eyes on them after they pass but stops herself from glancing back. They make it a block and a half and Ava is ready to ask about Thai food, provide a distraction if Bea wants one, but Bea doesn’t relax. If anything she’s holding herself tighter now. 

“Bea?”

“They’re following us,” she says lowly. “My parents.”

Ava remains quiet, lets Bea set the pace, occasionally rubs Bea’s forearm. After another block, Beatrice steers them down a side street, waiting. A few moments later, the couple round the corner and stop, what Ava thinks is surprise flashing briefly over both of their faces before they settle back into what Ava guesses is neutral for them. They have the expressions of stern Victorian schoolteachers, and not in the hot way. They are perfectly put together—Bea’s mom is in a black dress and black and white tweed blazer, heels high enough to be intimidating but not high enough to be anything other than appropriate. Her dad is in a charcoal suit with a blue silk tie, black capped Oxfords shining. They’re beautiful people, just like Bea. 

“Hello, Mother. Papa.” 

“Beatrice. Hello.”

It’s her dad who’s speaking, and his tone is formal, the fucking psycho, as if he’s not seeing his only daughter for the first time in years, as if he hadn’t been following them. 

“Is there a reason that you were following us?”

Bea is standing steady, tone as even as ever. Ava knows she’s upset, probably nervous, because she can feel Bea’s pinky tap unevenly against Ava’s palm, invisible to everyone but Ava. Also because she knows Bea and this is an objectively weird and fucked up situation and of course she’s going to be upset by it. 

“Beatrice.” It’s her mother this time. “Don’t be dramatic.” It’s dismissive. Ava hates her. “We were merely being discreet. We weren’t sure that you would be able to talk to us. You’re clearly...on an assignment. I wasn’t sure whether your friend was aware of your...position.”

Beatrice looks at her for a moment before saying, surprise slipping just slightly into her response, “I am in London for work, yes, although I’m not working right now.” 

She tilts her head in Ava’s direction at the same time that she steps just slightly in front of her. Ava’s heart breaks—Bea is moving the same way she does when she’s gauging danger, protecting Ava from her parents. Ava is the one making that move most of the time, these days (which they’re both fine with because “it doesn’t hurt my ego to acknowledge reality, darling—you could flatten everything in a three block radius and still be ready for a fight. I know you don’t doubt my skills. I know that it’s about something else.” A waggle of Ava’s eyebrows, a move into Bea’s lap. “Oh, I have no doubts about your skills, Bea, and yes,” softer, closer, “it’s about loving you.”). 

“This is my girlfriend, Ava. Ava, these are my parents.” She hesitates for a moment before adding, “And I’m not quite sure how it’s relevant but yes, Ava knows about my work. We work together.”

Ava’s not totally sure how this shit works but she’s 80% that the fact that Bea didn’t even bother with their names is the fancy rich person equivalent of her spitting at their feet. She’s very proud. The scale of things Ava wants to say to these people runs from “get fucked,” at the most polite end, to a literal punch in the face, at the most honest end. She nods her head slightly and says nothing at all, is now very proud of herself, as well. Frankly, she’s doing an excellent job of being restrained here. 

Bea’s mother takes a step toward them and Ava stops herself from reversing Bea’s move from a moment ago, forces herself to stay still. The woman is looking at Ava like she’s a problem she’s trying to figure out and, oh, Ava knows that face. Ava loves that face. Suddenly she’s seeing Beatrice, puzzling through an issue with the books at the bar or trying to figure out where she went wrong with a recipe, Beatrice unable to find the shirt or the sweater that she wants (Ava stole it; it’s always because Ava stole it). It’s in the crease of her mother’s forehead, the clench of her jaw and the press of her lips, the slight scrunch of her nose. Ava knows, logically, that it makes sense for Bea and her mother to look alike, but she’s still genuinely shocked to find the person she loves so clearly present in the woman in front of her. 

Finally, she seems to come to some conclusion, looking back to Beatrice and saying, “Right. Of course. I must have misunderstood the nature of your assignment.”

Ava loses the thread sometimes but she’s been paying pretty close attention to this whole situation and she has no idea what Bea’s mom is talking about. Beatrice is quiet for a moment.

“My...assignment? I’m sorry, Mother, I’m not sure what you mean.”

Her mother gestures, stabs the air in a very pointed and incredibly controlled way, at Bea’s body, at Ava, at their hands. Ava’s not sure what the fuck that’s supposed to mean. 

“Don’t be obtuse, Beatrice.”

Ava prickles; the halo gives a hum of agreement beneath her skin. Beatrice must sense it because she squeezes her hand.

“I’m not being obtuse, Mum. You’re being obscure. What exactly do you think you know about my work here?”

Her tone has ventured into mild frustration, and Ava wants to clap her hands in appreciation. She does not. Because she’s a grown up. 

Her mother looks around quickly, like she’s trying to be sure there isn’t anyone watching, lowers her voice. “Honestly, Beatrice, I don’t know why you’re making me say it. This obviously isn’t your typical attire and,” she makes a face like she’s smelled something rotten, “you’ve cut your hair. You’re walking around holding hands with...this person. You’ve introduced her as though you’re having some kind of…relationship. Publicly. There’s clearly a purpose for that and,” she waves at Beatrice, “for all of this. We know that the Church has asked you to do some…unorthodox things. I can’t pretend to know why exactly all of this is necessary but clearly,” she looks around again, hisses, “You’re undercover.”  

Ava blinks. I mean she’s not wrong—they’re obviously not telling Adriel’s assholes (much more accurate name than FBC, by the way, and catchier) who they are or who they work for because their work kind of depends on them not figuring it out, but Ava’s pretty sure that’s not what she means. Beatrice is silent, Ava assumes because she’s trying to process.

Taking the silence as confirmation, apparently, her mother continues, “Your father and I weren’t sure that you would be able to speak with us given that you are working and given,” here she appraises Ava again and Ava fights the urge to stick her tongue out, “your company. We thought...getting to know her...might have been part of your work. Apparently, the two of you are,” she gestures at their hands again, “working together in this. I had not guessed.”

“I don’t...Part of my...work? Getting to...getting to know her?”

Ava is only really used to seeing Bea this inarticulate when Ava’s trying super hard to make her that way, but she can’t blame her because, from what Ava can put together, Bea’s mom thinks the Church has sent Bea undercover as a...butch dyke with a pink-haired girlfriend? She thinks Bea is, what? Pretending to eat pussy? For Jesus? For the record, Bea’s definitely not pretending, although Ava would say it’s a religious experience. Also, okay, fine, Ava does sometimes bring Jesus into things but only in the super blasphemous way, thanks very much.   Ava whispers, “What the fuck?” before she can stop herself, clearly loud enough to be heard by Bea’s parents, who sneer almost simultaneously.

Bea’s mother speaks again, confident, in the direction of her husband, “I knew she was not affiliated with the Church.” 

Score one for Ava. She’s honestly delighted that it’s so totally inconceivable that she could be a nun (those never-nun vibes are the vibes she wants to be putting out), but this makes literally no sense. Suddenly she can’t help herself. 

“Hey, I could totally be a nun. You don't know my life. I spend like all my time with nuns. I know so many nuns. Biblically, even!” Well there’s that. Biblically, Ava? Who even says that? Ava looks at Beatrice, who is still facing her parents but whose shoulders have started to rise toward her earlobes. For reasons Ava cannot articulate, she continues. “Well, just one nun. Biblically, I mean. I only know Beatrice biblically.” Nice, Ava. She’s not done, apparently. “Speaking of Beatrice, what, exactly, did you think the Church asked Bea to do? Seduce me? Mission fucking accomplished. Also, if you thought I was a mark, or whatever, why would you follow her? What if you'd blown her cover and ruined all that time she spent being super hot for the Church? Or, what if she had brought me down this street to rail me…for Jesus? Holy shit, I’m gonna shut up now.” 

Bea has finally turned to look at her and is...trying not to laugh. “Good Lord, Ava,” she whispers as she tries to keep it under control. Ava can see the shine in her eyes and the slight twitch of her jaw, her shoulders. Ava winces slightly and gives what she hopes is an appropriately apologetic shrug. Beatrice squeezes Ava’s hand, coughs to cover a laugh and turns back to her parents, who appear to be so horrified that they cannot move. Ava’s very glad she’s not trying to make a good impression on these people because that was a fucking disaster. 

“Right. Well. Clearly there has been some confusion. Mother, I renounced my vows about a year ago. My relationship with Ava is not part of an undercover assignment,” her voice waivers slightly as she tries not to laugh, “and for that matter neither are my clothes or hair. I’m just very, very gay.” She adds, after a moment, “Although you’re right that Ava is not a nun.”

Ava is giggling before she can think to stop herself, and Bea is looking back at her with so much affection that she feels the halo start to hum. She coaxes it back into quiet. Ava turns her attention back to Bea’s parents, who are still standing very still, but now frowning somehow even more deeply than before. 

“Beatrice, surely you aren’t telling us…surely you aren’t saying…with this woman…” her mother starts, voice hard and angry, the word woman spit like venom, which Ava thinks probably has at least something to do with the fact that she just monologued about fucking their daughter in the weirdest way possible. Then there’s the sacrilege. Also, her boobs look amazing in this tank top, which Ava’s guessing doesn’t work in her favor in this particular circumstance. Ava takes it as a compliment.

Also, she’s fascinated, but horror-movie fascinated, at what’s happening right now because these people caught Beatrice with her hand up another girl’s skirt when she was 15 and now they see her holding hands with Ava, looking exactly as wonderfully queer as she is, and they’re more willing to believe that she’s on a secret gay mission for the Church than that she’s actually just, you know, gay? Holy shit, this woman is deluded. Homophobia is fucking wild. 

Before her mother can stutter out anything else, Bea’s father puts his hand on her shoulder and she quiets. Gross. He steps, like, right in front of his wife, pushing her back a step, to stare at Beatrice. Gross-er. 

“It is unfortunate that your time of service in the Church failed to help you get over this...predilection, Beatrice, although it is far from the first time you have failed to meet very reasonable expectations. At least we are not unused to being disappointed by you.”

His tone is dripping with condescension and indifference and this is his daughter, his objectively incredible daughter. Ava can suddenly see six-year-old Bea standing alone in front of this cold, hard man—hair in a knot that leaves her with a headache, uncomfortable in the ballet shoes she already hates, posture perfect in her little leotard and tutu. Ava can see her there, trying so, so hard to be what he wants, and feeling like she’s not enough. She wants to wrap tiny Bea in her arms and take her away. She wants this man to hurt the way he hurt her. It takes every ounce of self-control she has to keep the halo still and silent, to contain the angry, vengeful thing growing in her stomach. 

“It really is a shame,” her mother says, curt, from where she’s now stationed behind him. “We tried very hard to help you, Beatrice, but you always were a stubborn, ungrateful thing.” 

Ava’s self-control is officially running on empty. She considers her options. Ava could kill them very easily but they’re in public. Maybe she’ll borrow Bea’s signature throat punch. Less messy, still effective. Seems like a winner. The halo hums lowly with approval. Before she can move, though, Bea is fully in front of her, unfolding that last little bit of herself until she’s standing there as the soldier she was trained to be. Sister Beatrice may be gone but Bea is still a fucking badass. And Christ she’s hot. (See? Blasphemy only.)

“As it turns out, I don’t actually give a shit what you think. I have a wonderful life. To the extent you were ever my family, you aren’t any longer. My family loves me for who I am, and despite your best efforts, I love myself, too.”

She is confident, her body casually dangerous, her voice steady and unbothered. Ava would like her to be done with this interaction for at least 100 reasons, and she’s proud to say that only like a quarter of those are sex things. Bea turns to Ava, smiles like Ava is the only thing she cares about. “Ready for dinner?” 

Ava’s definitely hungry. (5/10 at best but her focus is absolutely elsewhere.) And, right, so maybe she underestimated, but still it’s only like a third sex things, which is very impressive given her fucking smoke show of a girlfriend. And also Ava can want to push Bea down onto the closest bench and do her very best to positively reinforce all of this confidence and also be so fucking proud and happy and in love that she wants to cry because she can contain multitudes, or whatever. Ava rises on her toes to kiss Bea’s cheek and nods.  

“Just a sec,” she takes a step forward and looks at Bea’s father, meets his eyes. “She is the best person I have ever met, which is saying a lot, because I spend most of my time with people who have given their lives to their faith and helping others. And because,” Ava lets her eyes glow bright with the halo’s energy, a party trick, really, but super effective for scaring people and, she hopes, shaking the smug fuckers in front of her, “I have some experience with the divine.” 

Sure enough, Ava watches as Bea’s father’s eyes grow large, as her mother takes a step back. Bea puts a gentle hand on the small of her back and she turns to smile at her reassuringly, blinks back to normal.

“She saved me, saves me all the time, really. You spent her whole life trying to make her small. You failed. She’s a miracle. And again,” she lets her eyes flash bright quickly, can’t help but smirk when Bea’s dad staggers back, “I know something about those.”

She reaches back for Bea, flips them off with her free hand. “It was in no way nice to meet you. Seriously, one of my least favorite experiences, and I’ve literally died twice and spent a few years fighting demons in a hell dimension, so well done you.” 

She turns fully to Bea and then they’re walking, pressed close together, away from them. 

After a few blocks, Ava turns to look up at Bea. “I hope that wasn’t too much, Bea. Sometimes my mouth gets away from me, not that that’s news to you. Or an excuse! I’m really sorry if I...”

She trails off at the look on Bea’s face, which is...oh. Well, that’s unexpected. Beatrice is looking at Ava like she wants to ruin her. In the very good, very welcome sex way. They’re near a small park and Beatrice tugs her hand until they’re inside, sheltered by hedges and wrought iron, and presses Ava up against a tree. One of her hands presses into her hipbone, thumbing at the hem of her shorts while the other splays possessively over her ribs, pressing into the material of the black tank top Ava wears beneath an olive green bomber she’d stolen from Bea. 

She’s close to Ava, pupils blown, and she whispers, “This okay?”

Ava shifts slightly forward so that she can shrug out of the jacket, anticipating a future annoying limitation, and then places her hand over Bea’s on her rib cage, shifts it lower and back up, underneath the fabric. Bea sucks in a breath. She doesn’t even mention the jacket Ava just let drop to the ground. Beatrice’s jacket. Ava shivers. Disregard for mess is a top 5 indicator that Bea is about to absolutely wreck her. She’s fucking delighted, meets Bea’s eyes and arches her back slightly to press herself further into Bea’s hands. 

“Yes, Bea. Very, very okay.” 

And then Bea’s mouth is on hers, hard and filthy and as possessive as the hand moving torturously slowly toward where she wants it under her shirt. Ava’s knees go weak and Bea moves to press a thigh against her, both hands suddenly firm on her hips and pulling Ava closer, whispering soft affirmations between kisses when she hears Ava moan. She moves her own body to match the rhythm of Ava moving against her thigh. 

Bea breaks away to bite and suck at Ava’s neck, soothes the marks, already disappearing thanks to the halo, with her tongue. Ava is a whimpering mess when Bea makes her way up her neck and to her ear, whispering, voice raspy with want, “Do you know how much your love means to me, Ava?” 

Ava traps Bea’s face between her hands and says, with as much love as she can put into her voice, with the halo glowing hard against the bark of the tree behind her, “I meant what I said, Bea. You’re a miracle. You’re beautiful. I can’t believe I get to love you this way.”

The kiss she gives Beatrice moves them from heated to gentle, and when she pulls back, Bea is still breathing hard but her grip on Ava’s hips is softer, her thigh now still where Ava’s pressed against it. 

“Want to continue this at home?” 

Ava shifts slightly, feels the bark of the tree rough against the exposed skin of her lower back and shoulders. She’s in no way opposed to letting Beatrice do whatever the fuck she wants to her against this tree but they do have a very nice apartment and Ava has some ideas about what she’d like to do for Beatrice that are logistically more difficult here. 

“Yes, please.”

Her stomach growls, and Bea laughs, moves a hand under her tank to press gently against the skin of her belly. 

“Food first. I really do want Thai.” 

She bends down to retrieve her jacket and holds it open for Ava as she pulls herself away from the tree. Ava kisses her cheek in thanks. Bea runs a hand through her hair and straightens her jacket before reaching out for Ava’s hand and pulling them back toward the road. 

“I guess we are technically undercover,” Bea says, as Ava swings their joined hands higher and higher. 

Ava snorts. “Yeah, you’re right. Although pretty sure I’d be much more excited to be doing whatever the fuck your mom thought we were doing. I mean honestly, Bea, what a pervert.” Bea smiles. Ava feels victorious. “It is kind of hot,” Ava continues as they make their way toward the Thai place closest to the flat. She waggles her eyebrows. “Wanna play undercover nuns later, Bea? Ooh, ooh, wait��undercovers nuns! Fucking nailed it.”

Bea rolls her eyes and tucks a strand of hair behind Ava’s ear. 

“How hungry are you? You want to split a green curry and pad thai?”

Ava bumps her shoulder. “Sure. Satay, too. And mango rice.” She skips ahead and looks back at Bea. “Also, don’t think I didn’t notice—that wasn’t a no. I’m going looking for your habit as soon as we’re home. There’s gotta be a spare in the safe house, too, right?” 

“If we’re undercover, why would we need the habits?”

“Backstory, Bea. Backstory.”

“I love you. You’re ridiculous.”

“Still not a no!”

Ava laughs over Beatrice’s groan. 

[sukipershipper]

Ooooo Ramble time!!!!

Little Mac headcanons plz and thank you :3

Also I know this isn’t a head canon but I’m curious!

Does Mac get along with the branch B boxers?

Hehe! Got you Anon!

Little Mac Headcanons:

Mac actually works part-time at the WVBA. While he is getting a full income from the place, he is still required to attend school. He's currently studying history for the time that he is there.

He can also play a bit of saxophone. He performs with the schools Jazz Band and much like his boxing, he is a show stopping performer.

Very street smart, he knows the best places to go for food, best people to see for deals, and the best alleys to go to hide if you need to. Don't ask how he knows that second part.

When he first began boxing he actually wasn't that good. It wasn't until he saved his friends from a gang that he got noticed and taken in by Doc Louis. A few weeks of training later and he was already up to a substantial level of Boxing.

He looks up to each of the boy's as his mentor or fatherly/brotherly figure. He never got to have much of a family growing up, besides Giovanni and his family, but it didn't always feel like his own. Coming to the WVBA, he felt a sense of belonging for the first time in almost 10 years.

This is why he hates when the guys fight. He just wants a nice, stable, 'perfect' family. Others have told him that's practically impossible, but it doesn't stop Mac from wanting it...just a bit

He idolizes Doc and Disco. Doc for obvious reasons, but Disco he has always seen as a big brother figure. Someone close to his age and one of the younger boxers in the league, plus, Disco always encouraged and helped Mac when he was rising through the ranks.

He may be street smart but he does lack a bit of world knowledge, thankfully he's got friends from all around the world.

He is actually a pretty solid hugger. Would give Bear a run for his money if he wanted to.

To answer your question: Mac actually quite likes Branch B. If he thought his friends were eccentric personalities, then he hadn't seen anything until he saw them. Birdie and him get on the best, as to be expected, but he also gets on quite well with folks like Heike, Dragon, Gabby, Bob, heck even Rick.

He doesn't care much for folks like Clown or Narcis, especially with how they treated Aran when he first arrived, but every now and again they manage to get under his skin. Lucky he has the Rat man on standby.

I talk a lot about Mac getting protected, but he honestly is very protective himself. A reporter getting too personal or a fan getting too handsy? He's in there to protect his friends and get the press to buzz off.

Even outside the WVBA, He's always gonna be there for his friends. And they know they can count on him no matter what

[carli-meows]

One Cloud Gang: Sounds of Things to Come

Chapter One:

Here come the OCG y'all

Like the Scurra Could

GizMoe Quimp

Green Unicycle (That can turn into a monocycle)

Calm (down)

An Old Homie like that

I brought the candy

Funny Little Guy

Stay (collected)

Fury Filled Palm

I'll Fight for Y'all

Chapter II:

Here come that 123 the OCG

Like a Scurra Would

GooLi O'ZaeDeree

I'm like if Tony Hawk was a Myme and also a girl

Gooli's Espionage Theme (Bein' sneaky 'n' shit)

A new Homie like that

I brought the seltz

Mine

Stay (Calm 'n' collected)

Gunslung Gunpowder Clash

I'll Fight for Him

Chapter 3:

The One Cloud Gang Bitch

Like a Scurra Should

BucKie JaneJeen

Crazy Jyezter on a Pogostick (But watch out)

The Hush-Alley Pins

I'm that Homie

I brought you Fools (Jesties)

GET A ROOM

Stay Down (No Homie Left Behind)

Bliztering Black Blizzard

I'll Fight for It

Other Songs:

This story takes place on Not Planet Earth

Ka-ZAMN God DAMN

The Somewhat Poorly Drawn Tank

I've been a Fool (get it? becuase clowns?)

We'll Fight With You

ADRESS

Don't draft our Story

Obscure Triatary Background Side-Plot Side-Character

Lavender but Periwinkle is a good answer

We Should've Been in a Band

Jesties (Gig Ver.)

God???? At the Kettlecorn Stand???

Suck My Dick About It Then

Get Fucked On

Jyezters Juggalos and Subjuggulators

Plothole

The Nerd Gets the Bully

KaLe GoDosh

The Bully Gets the Nerd

This Empty Ass Desert Ain't A Set

A Vampire Werebitch and a Witch Walk Into a Club

Separate the Art from the Artist

Separate the (F)Art from the (F)Artist

FREESPACE

APPROACH & STRIKE

We'll Fight With You (Reprise)

History Somehow Remembers Us Old Joaks

If Things Go Well

You'll Hear this Song and Read these Titles

So Much in this World I Haven't Made

I Love Using a Standalone SWF Player to make Music It's So Fun And Not Hard At All

[whollyjoly]

hello there! my name is em, and i'd like to welcome you to my blog ✨ when im not staring respectfully at tommy kinard's nose scrunch, my hellblog will mostly be 9-1-1, band of brothers, star wars, and a dash of m*a*s*h! also: i've been getting into moodboards and icon making these days - if you have any requests, my dms are always open! things with im obsessed with: bucktommy and the parallels!!, my tall smirking husband (alton more), making moodboards, music, putting flower crowns on literally anything and anyone 🌼 ships: 9-1-1 - bucktommy, henren, madney, bathena band of brothers - winnix, baberoe, speirton, luztoye, webgott, bullmartin, skowers, gashey ❤️ star wars - codywan, kalluzeb, anidala, stormpilot, rebelcaptain, kanera, dincobb, techphee m*a*s*h - traphawk, hawkahy see you around, friends! 💫

Masterlist ✨

9-1-1

Gifs

Evan Buckley - I'm Ready to Be Something (4x05||7x05)

Edits

BuckTommy - What If You Were Okay?

Moodboards

BuckTommy - The Cowboy AU Nobody Asked For BuckTommy - Cowboy AU pt 2 BuckTommy - Cowboy AU pt 3

Icons

Tommy Kinard - Flower Crowns Ravi Panikkar - Flower Crowns BuckTommy - Flower Crowns

Memes

And I'll Post It Again! - BuckTommy x B99 Pure of Heart / Dumb of Ass - Bi!Buck

Band of Brothers

Writing

Immortal Soldier!Alton More AU - Snippets & Moodboard

Edits

Winnix - In Those Heavy Days in June Luztoye - I'll Be Seeing You Spotify Lyric Edit Luztoye - Francis Forever Spotify Lyric Edit

Moodboards

Band of Brothers x The Killers

Easy Company - When You Were Young Dick Winters - Be Still Lewis Nixon - Uncle Jonny Ronald Speirs - Battle Born Eugene Roe - Wonderful Wonderful Renée Lemaire - Human Easy Ranch AU - The Cowboys' Christmas Ball

Easy Ranch

Alton More - baby, the sun is getting low James "Moe Alley - all this dirt, it's been dug before The Cowboys' Christmas Ball - Killers Crossover

Mutuals

Vani (sweetxvanixlla) - Midnight Blue Lou (luckynumber4) - Dusty Rose Claire (coco-bean-1218) - Chestnut Brown Mads (mads-weasley) - Orange Lenora (mutantmanifesto) - Moonlight Fru (onlyyouexisthere) - Pale Green Blu (xxluckystrike) - Golden

Misc.

The Cowboys' Christmas Ball - Ficlet + Poem

Misc.

My Aura Moodboard - Yellow

you can find also find other stuff from me at #em speaks content from my amazing bob mutuals is tagged #me and the gang (bottom text) or #i live for the best something of hell. content from my amazing 9-1-1 mutuals is tagged #clown car support squad.

thank you for stopping by, and ZIM ZAM! 🔥

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

SF GIRLS JUST WANNA DROP BASSLINES.

-haC INFO: Spotlight on Lori "Lorax" Black, bassist of American punk rock/ post-hardcore band CLOWN ALLEY, performing live in San Francisco, CA, c. 1985, in the same year as the release of their debut album, "Circus of Chaos."

Source: www.picuki.com/media/2803423427173863207.

[rcmandaniels-archive]

If Roman were a sensible man, he wouldn’t have said anything at all. He would have judged Elijah in the silence of his corner, then went back inside in search of a working lighter (his former friend wasn’t an option. Also, his lighter had been stored in a satin pajama pant pocket, and that was too close for comfort and not worth reeling over). But unfortunately, he wasn’t a sensible man. 

“At least I’m in clothes.” Roman shrugged, though he understood Elijah’s bewilderment. Back in the Amethyst days, Roman was known to be difficult amongst directors and photographers, refusing to put on silly outfits for the photoshoots and music videos. It was something not even Harrison nor Kaya could persuade him to do. All he wanted to do was play bass in a band with his mates, not parade around like a clown. Yet, here he was. And he didn’t want to admit that Eli’s description of his outfit was spot on. 

“Not that I’d expect you to understand, but this is actually fashion. Apologies for not being a lazy bastard who thought wearing some silk pants and no top would be up to par. Screams a little desperate, doesn’t it? At least I’m here because my work colleagues are,” Not an exact lie, but he had been avoiding the 98.6 The Peak staff as much as he could this evening. And besides, it was the argument Ophelia presented when dragging him here. “Not pretending to be some cool sexy dude trying to bag a Valentine.” He didn’t have to say the exact words, Elijah knew what he was implying. This was something Harry would have done, this entire theme was right up his alley. Hell, the lead singer would have gone even further than some shit leather pirate costume or the silk pajamas, and they would have loved it. Ate up that shit like it was gourmet. Because it was Harry. 

But he wasn’t here, it was just Elijah and Roman now. And try as they might, neither were him. And Roman only wanted to remind the guitarist that because he was pissed off and needed someone to sink to his level tonight. Even if it hurt him all the same.

☆ @elifalvey

As one hand held firmly onto his phone, scrolling through the notifications in case the answer to his worries had been hidden in his text messages, the other dipped into the pockets of his satin pajama pants, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Elijah balanced all three things in his grasp, then, successfully plucking out a single smoke with agile fingers and placing it gently between his teeth. He sighed as he scrolled even further up, where the explanation as to why his mother had decided to call three times unfortunately didn’t appear; the only thing mildly concerning was that Rhiannon had been crying, but hell, she was teething and that wasn’t new information. Not to him nor his mother, who had gone through this particular rodeo four times already. Why would she call him about that?

Before his thumb could press down on the appropriate button to contact her back, the incessant clicking of a dud lighter somewhere closely behind him had him turning to face the noise, and then . . .

What the actual fuck? Why are you shirtless?

Instantly, it was like Elijah’s whole body tensed — a reaction he couldn’t necessarily control considering the last time that he and Roman spoke, he clearly remembered the tone in which he spat, ‘Stay the fuck out of my life’. Quite frankly, he never would have expected to see him again after that. Not unless the universe decided to play some sick game, as always appeared to be the case in one way or another.

This was perhaps the worst circumstance that the musician could ever think possible, though. Being half naked in the chilly Colorado night air, with an estranged Roman Daniels standing distantly behind him. What the fuck was he meant to do? To say? Was he just supposed to answer those questions, as if it were normal?

He had to admit, the logical conversational routes briefly passed through his mind. Oh, I gave my girlfriend my top half. She’s walking about with it inside, I just forgot to take it back. And then, the less than logical. What he might have quipped five years in the past. What, like it’s something you haven’t seen before? 

His feet swiveled underneath him to fully face the man, deciding to let whatever words that were meant to be just spill out. Not much he could say to get out of this interaction now, anyway. What he’d been expecting even less than this entire scenario in general, however, was the fact that Roman’s outfit was arguably worse than his own. Not to mention uncharacteristically to the theme of the night, and hilarious, if he had it within himself to laugh given their current relationship. Brown eyes obviously trailed down his frame, his expression a mixture of surprise and — Curiosity? Contempt? Confusion?

“No. More pressing question. Why the fuck do you look like the world’s most uncomfortable pirate?”

( @rcmandaniels )

[slutdge]

Clown Alley, 1985 (featuring future Melvins bassists Lori Black and Mark Deutrom)

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Why IS Chica the best glamrock animatronic?

Chica is the best: Sorry Roxy.

I find Glamrock Chica the most developed of the Glamrocks within the confines of the canon. Just because in her little screentime she has more defining traits then just food. (But I can see why people meme on her being a complete garbage chicken etc)

You might think Roxy is the "most developed" cause she cries and we actually have sympathy for her. And she does have a few faucets here and there like her jumping on the racetrack and a distinct mean girl personality.

But for me personally, having self confidence issues/mental illness is not the same as a well written character and having a personality. (Sorry Daycare Attendent. You are far more developed by the fans give you credit for. )

(granted I love Roxanne I relate to her and she used to be my favorite Glamrock first and we'll get a lot of scenes with her in Lofi later)

All we know about Monty is that he's violent and cool and possibly murdered Bonnie, or at least took the fall for it, and wants to usurp Freddy. And uses his claws to deal damage. (And this is canon text. Not anything the voice actor said)

So where does that place Chica?

Well, like the Chica's before her, she has a problem with food. More specifically, eating things she shouldn't. Like garbage and the like. But mostly her obsession with Pizza.

Her obsession with the Monty Mystery mix has caused her damage with the trash compactor before.

So yeah, garbage chicken likes garbage....

And I can get why she gets relegated to memes of "PIZZA!!!" and junk. (And I enjoy them fjfhhfh)

But that's just not it.

She seems to be the only Glamrock who is dedicated to the band souly for the sake of the music.

Monty is obviously in it for fame.

Roxy wants adoration.

Freddy is just happy to play with his friends.

But Chica is in it for the music.

(I feel this is an intentional aspect of their design from Fazbear Entertainment. To give an impression of a real band drama dynamics)

But when Chica isn't sneaking out to get garbage, she is practicing religiously.

Jamming out for the sake of it. Honing her skills. Even in the opening cutscene in the game, she is stretching her fingers right before they go on stage. And she looks the most intense out of all the Glamrocks. While everyone else is smiling and excited to go on stage, she's the only one who isn't smiling, and has an intense look about her. She only starts smiling and having a good time when the performance begins.

She's 100% focused to give a good performance and show.

And the in-game texts suggest that she used to sing in performances alongside Freddy before she got her voice box upgrade which prevented her from singing without damaging guests ears.

Her dedicated area of the Plex is Mazercise. Which encourages kids to be fit (but she probably gets a lot of mom's there. Kids run through the maze like crazy kids while parents actually do a jazzercise routine) while promoting hydration with the smoothie bar and food. It's honestly a stupid but brilliant marking ploy.

But Chica's Glamrock outfit does look like an 80s leotard, which gives me the impression that she leads Mazercise activities and takes it very seriously.

However, this is just speculation. But it is worth noting that Roxy isn't dressed like a Racer, and Monty isn't dressed like a golfer, and Freddy isn't dressed like he's down for lazertag/fazerblast at all times. (So when I see Glamrock Bonnie designs that look like he's always in the bowling alley. I bite. Lol)

The Daycare Attendent is the only acception. Looking like a clown meant to be entertaining to young children. (In theory)

So Chica looking like an 80s workout video is really a core aspect to her and part of her design.

Chica takes her job as a musician and fitness instructor VERY seriously but that isn't really all.

She's the only one of the Glamrocks when possessed, still seems sweet and compassionate.

Always asking if she can take the lost child to their parents and offering candy.

Granted, it also serves as a double edged sword and is meant to be intentionally creepy.

The lines she feeds are the exact kind of stuff that kidnappers say to their victims like "your parents want you to follow me"

Which is meant to be creepy and off-putting. Even being the only Glamrock to call for Gregory's name.

However while the other Glamrocks have the generic "I can help" and Roxanne occasionally asks "are you lost?" And "are you hungry"

Roxy seems to be self obsessed with catching the kid. Constantly claiming her own praises and crying constantly when she gets shattered. (Hhm almost like the virus exploits people's weaknesses. Almost like she feels she can prove her self worth if she finds greggors)

Also gives the impression of someone who doesn't know what to do with a lost kid. Like "are you hungry? Kids eat, right?" She can also say some mean stuff about the kid being worthless and not having friends. (She was meant to appeal to teenage girls so I get it but ouch)

Monty's dialogue just adds to his character about being a big dumb brute but seems a bit impersonal with the kid like "Yo kid, why you gotta be like this bro" and tends to have no additional voice lines when he's shattered. Just screaming in pain (which is horrible but tragic from a character standpoint cus if you take Monty's claws you lose all personality dialogue you had)

I just find Chica's methods of reaching out to a lost child being sincere if she wasn't corrupted.

She wants to take them to their parents, give them snacks to calm them down (she loves pizza and food and it works for her) and even calls out to others about there being a lost child.

Even when shattered and she loses her ability to speak, Chica makes a variety of noises. She's still trying to talk to you.

I also find Chica's death the most tragic. Roxy and Monty you can almost say got hubris. Like arrogance and pride. But Chica just wanted to eat garbage, and the look on her face as she tries to get out and struggles always get me.

So to recap.

Chica adores her guitar and is in it for the music. And spends a lot of time practicing even if she's a robot and doesn't need to.

She takes Mazercise seriously (implied from her design)

She loves the children genuinely and not just for fame reasons or adoration like Roxy. I theorize she might be the least popular cause she's not Freddy or one of the new ones.

What you rather have at your birthday party? A chicken who likes food, or an Alligator with an attitude problem or a beautiful confident and cool wolf, or Freddy Fazbear himself?

She is just very sweet and genuine, even from what the canon text implies and has enough different traits about her that make her come together for me.

It's not just Food and garbage.

Just part of it.

And I love all the Glamrocks and they all have something like "you think they're like this but they're really like this"

But I think the difference for me is that Chica's vice doesn't connect to her performance at all.

She eats garbage, loves food, loves music loves kids.

Monty wants to be famous and is destructive and is a little bit of an idiot and the most difficult Glamrock to deal with but we don't know anything else about him other than that.

Roxy stops other racers from winning other than her, is very boastful and needs to talk herself up constantly and feels like a loser when one little thing goes wrong for her.

Freddy is kind and warm hearted to kids and protects Gregory with his life. But often has a lot of exestential dialogue throughout the game and doesn't seem to be okay. Despite Freddy being the character who talks the most, all his dialogue is basically "go here and do the thing. It is a videogame Gregory." With very small bits of personality and it's pretty straight forward (either that or he acts suspicious for no reason. Which alludes to the scraped Dialogue where he was originally going to get corrupted and hunt down Gregory too)

Anyways. I love all the Glamrocks.

I just think Chica is the best and deserves the world.

[theladyofbloodshed]

Happy @gwynrielweek2022! I hope you enjoy this modern fluffy one shot.

The date had been a long time coming. For the longest time, Nesta had warned him that Gwyn didn’t date. Don’t bother. She’s not interested. Stay away. Az had never even asked for a date. It had been Cassian doing all the asking - and him receiving all of Nesta’s glares. They had met many times when crossing paths as casualties to the happy couple’s love fests. Still, it was far better to make polite conversation with Gwyn than to third-wheel Cass and Nesta when Gwyn hadn’t tagged along.

Something had shifted though. Azriel wasn’t sure when it had happened, only that it had. They stopped being friends of the couple and simply friends of their own accord. They’d all hang out together, but Az would pick her up along the way or drop her off on the way home since they lived along the same route.

Their first few instances alone had been strangely awkward without Cassian’s chaos or Nesta’s dry wit bridging the gap. Gwyn had asked if she could switch the radio on. After a couple of journeys, she stopped asking Azriel at all and switched it on the moment she slid into the passenger seat. She’d marvel at his penchant for silence, claiming it wasn’t right to drive with nothing on in the background. Her singing grew louder every journey too. That beautiful voice would fill his car with warmth and light.

It might have turned out as a fatal mistake, but Azriel bypassed Nesta’s warnings. Dodged all of her protective barriers and asked Gwyn herself for a date. She’d been half way out of the car after an evening watching a local band in a bar, but a massive smile had been thrown his way as she agreed.

Azriel played it safe with a bowling alley. It gave them the opportunity to keep busy if an awkward silence cropped up. He wasn't likely to try and fill it.

At the counter while Gwyn scrawled their names on the display card, he'd drily asked her if she needed the barriers up. Her teal eyes had lit up and she'd laughed out a no - then asked him if he did. That should have been his first warning. The second ought to have been when she pulled her own pair of bowling shoes out of her bag and he had to exchange his across the counter for a pair of clown shoes.

When they reached their lane, Gwyn gave him a sweet smile then selected a ball. There were no phantom touches, no feeling the different weights. She stalked forwards then swung the ball. Strike.

'Do you bowl?'

Gwyn nodded. 'Every week with my twin.'

Gone was the time of being a gentleman. Azriel would go down swinging with everything he had. Gwyn wasn't going easy on him either - or herself. She cursed under her breath if she didn't get a strike and on the times where she didn't even manage a spare, she gritted her teeth and slunk back into her seat.

'You're a little competitive,' he noted.

'A little,' she agreed.

Good. So was he.

Their one game followed by dinner descended into chaos. The dinner plans were abandoned for more games. Gwyn won the first, Azriel clawed a victory in the second so then Gwyn had asked for a best out of three. He then countered for a best out of five. Then, to try and save face, Azriel suggested the arcade. There was an air hockey table he'd thumped Cassian at enough times for bragging rights.

The disc flew from one end to the other; Gwyn abandoned skill for feral defence of her tiny slit of a goal. Azriel's eyes stung from not blinking enough as he tracked the florescent pink disc back and forth. She might have won more bowling games, but he was proving victorious at air hockey.

'Shall we play something else?' Gwyn suggested, knowing she was going down.

Azriel raised his eyebrows. 'Sure.'

They passed over the shooting games and the plastic motorcycles. At a giant flashing glass case designed to burn through cash, Gwyn skidded to a halt. She gripped his arm.

‘I need that!’

Everything within the case was soft and fluffy. Azriel imagined Gwyn’s bed had a row of stuffed animals meticulously lined up. She was the type of girl to give them names and feel sad when she woke up and one was on the floor, he knew it.

‘Which one?’

‘That one!’

Azriel huffed on a laugh. ‘The unicorn?’

Gwyn folded her arms across her chest, shaking her head with dismay. ‘Azriel, a unicorn has a singular, twisted horn. This is a clearly a pegasus: no horn, but a set of feathered wings.’

All Azriel knew was that it was white and fluffy with a blue sparkly collar around its neck. ‘Sorry, I’m not an expert on mythical horses.’

Gwyn was already inserting a handful of coins. ‘Lucky for you, I am.’ A wave of copper hair was tossed over her shoulder then tranquillity enveloped her. A finger pushed the flashing start button.

Coin after coin was shovelled into the machine from both of their wallets. Each time the claw grabbed the teddy, they both held their breath in anticipation. It would loosen too soon. The pegasus would flop awkwardly back onto the foam peanuts. Azriel couldn’t bear it each time Gwyn made a mock-wail or pressed her hand to the glass in longing.

They’d worked in tandem: one pressing the button and the other offering encouragement as they peered at the angle through the glass then they’d swap over. Their competitiveness with each other had shifted into comradeship in their common goal: to free the pegasus.

‘Why won’t you just fall!’ Gwyn wailed, pressing her forehead into Azriel’s shoulder like a cat.

‘I can just buy you one online.’

‘No,’ she said sharply. ‘This is a matter of pride now. I can’t give up on it. It wouldn’t give up on me.’

Azriel had to laugh at the steely determination that had seized her. ‘It’s a con, Gwyn. It’s designed so that you won’t win.’

‘I will and I must.’

It was a compulsion to feed the machine more coins, to watch with a thumping heart each time the metal claw enclosed around the toy. Azriel couldn’t take the shattered hope when it bounced the wrong way and landed back in the foam.

‘Tip in, tip in,’ Gwyn begged.

‘Gwyn. This is the last coin. The final attempt.’

‘No,’ she sucked in a sharp breath. ‘It can’t be. I can’t leave him here. Not now we’ve been through so much together.’

The sadness in her teal eyes was enough to break his heart - feigned or real. She stuck out her bottom lip then whispered an apology to the pegasus. She was so cute, Azriel couldn’t bear it.

‘This is my lucky coin,’ he lied. ‘I believe in you.’

‘No, no, no. It’s too much pressure. I can’t. You do it.’

Azriel pressed the coin into her palm, savouring the warmth as her skin brushed against his. ‘Gwyneth Berdara, you were born for this moment.’

She steadied her breathing, nodded, then inserted the coin.

Gwyn aimed perfectly, as he knew she would. The arms of the claw circled its body, lifting it precisely. But as it travelled towards the chute, the claw lost its grip.

There were no thoughts in Azriel’s head except that he had to make this woman happy and she wanted that damn teddy bear. He threw his shoulder at the glass, knocking the machine so strongly, it tipped slightly. It was enough momentum.

Gwyn squealed with delight as it dropped through the chute - but the machine’s alarm started blaring.

‘Grab it!’

They sprinted from the bowling alley, alarm clamouring shrilly back in the arcade. But Gwyn had the pegasus clutched to her chest and a big, beaming smile plastered across her lovely face.

Around the side of the building, they leant against the wall, breathless but laughing.

‘We’re criminals,’ whispered Gwyn, eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘The pegasus is a fugitive.’

Azriel snorted. ‘That machine is the criminal. It swindled us. We could have bought five of them with the amount of coins we put in.’

Gwyn kissed the soft toy on its head. ‘It’s more exciting like this. Plus it’s extra special because you won it for me.’

That smile was only for him, a thing of secret, lovely beauty.

‘I can’t believe you did that for me.’

‘I did it for the pegasus.’

[spikesbimbo]

Drunk in Love

Summary:  Getting drunk and confessing your love for your “boy” friend and fucking him was most definitely not what you expected to go down on the usual night.

Pairing: Issei Matusukawa x Reader

Tags: Timeskip!Tattoed Mattsun, softdom!issei Hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, smut, fluff, virgin!reader, Unptrotected sex, non-penetrative sex, fingering, oral, pussy/thigh job, clit slapping, sweet dirty talk, praise, drunk sex

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I heard pussy job and I wrote a whole ass novel

18+ Minors DNI

You run your finger over the condensation of your empty drink, drawing shapes (or what you thought to be shapes, you couldn’t tell at this point) waiting for your dear friend, Makki to bring you a refill of your cocktail.  

“Here ya go.” Makki said as he returned with your beloved Malibu Sunset. The smooth coconut rum bringing you back to your first and favorite drink that you ever got drunk on in high school. You smiling at the memory

“Thanks.” you say. Your reply being mumbled by the liquid already in your mouth.

This all started with Iwaizumi calling Mattsun up, you and Makki hearing “You wanna get wasted?” on the other side of the phone. And with pleasure, you two were already packing your stuff up, shoving yalls “pregame” bottles back in the bag. The three of you made your happy way there climbing through the fence of the abandoned skate park you were in. Needles to say it was abandoned for a reason, but what’s life without a little danger.

You three and the rest of the third years have been friends since high school, meeting in freshman year, and now including Oikawa’s girlfriend. You actually didn’t like Oikawa at first, his “pretty boy” demeanor making you internally cringe. But his personality grew quickly on you, being the perfect target to tease you and Iwa clowning him over everything.

Now back to you on your nth drink, complaining about your previous job that fired you because u got injured, even though you know you wouldn’t have lasted long there anyways because you weren’t that academically inclined. Bright? Whatever you wanted to call it.

And as-usual it wasn’t long before your crybaby ass immediately called Makki and Issei and “tried” your best to tell them what happed with your dramatic self-induced tears running down you race, while Makki urged to you to try to calm down and Issei straight up laughing at the state your were in, snot running out of your nose. You recoiling at the thought, hoping they forgot. (Spoiler, they didn’t)

But now you nanny for a rich couple and you get payed good to play with cute babies all day, sounds good to you! Luckily, you had the week off due to them going on a vacation, you think it was France, no, the south of France. Must be nice.

Cue to now, Mattsun chuckling and leaning on you and Iwaizumi; both of you, especially Iwa, being visibly done with his shit. Him reminding you about the times you bought him some random shit, which you went out of your way for since he always payed for you, like that chopper keychain because you said it reminder you of him.

He didn’t know what compelled you to say his 6’2, tattooed built self looked like a tiny reindeer but okay. It still meant a lot to him, hooking it onto his motorcycle keys. But you knew he appreciated it, despite his appearance he’s a softie.

“You wanna try this’” He says gaining his composure offering you one of the shots he got.

You took one of the mini glasses, not being the type to back down and promptly swung the drink to the back of your mouth, quickly coughing before it even reached your throat.

“This shit is fucking gross.” You coughed out bringing the glass down from your lips.

  “Imagine being sober. Can’t relate.” He said taking another shot.

  “I guess I should do that but ive passed the point of giving a fuck” You said sending yall into a giggling fit while somehow Makki was thrown in to support yall from falling over. You two carry on laughing ignoring everyone’s stares at you thinking about how much yall fit perfectly together.  

   Makki rearranges himself to sit back in his chair, far away, from the both of you, whispering “Damn. I’m really third wheeling.” under his breath. Getting a snicker out of Oikawa sitting next to him.

   “When your best friends are ignoring you. Sad times.” He continues bringing his bottle to his mouth getting no response.

  Issei chuckles and gets up shoving his hands in his pocket reaching for the cigarettes. Pulling them out while failing to find his lighter

  “Fuck.” He muttered

  “Any’all got a light?”

  No one responds so you sacrifice yourself “Yeah” you say reaching into your pocket grabbing out your prized possession of a hot pink, bedazzled lighter that you did yourself, reaching out to hand it to him.

  “Don’t lose it” you stated seriously trying not to break a smile.

  “K’ sweet cheeks.” He said smirking into the butt between his lips as he walked away. Your face now burning up, hoping that everyone would think it was because of the alcohol.

  You mind wanders, thinking about the “dates” you two go on, from watching shows you “forcing” him to watch some romantic anime, to going to the skatepark, to playing video games with the rest of the 3rd years (which you don’t really like but you’ll play for him) and him surprising you with takeout, you bringing out candles trying your best to make it cute with him telling u everything you everything about his day.

  And you always tried to remain calm, even though sometimes he deserved to get his ass beat, like that one time he broke one of your favorite pair of heels. It honestly hurt him even more, he wanted you to get mad at him but no, you just acted like nothing happened. Making the guilt rise in him. Let’s just say didn’t have to lift a finger for the next few weeks.

You basically babied him, taking care of all his “chores”, mainly making him food when you were at his place knowing he hated doing it. Makki teasing you for acting like his housewife, leading to you slapping the shit outta him while trying to cover your now red cheeks.

You’ve never been so grateful for your attire at the moment, blessing yourself for not wearing your usual outfits of short skirts and cute tops, defending yourself saying what housewife dresses in beat up vans and baggy clothes. You definitely not imaging yourself in that position for the rest of the day.

 You expressed that you just liked to take care of people, which was true. You always looked out for them, bringing an extra umbrella, to bringing cookies you made at 2 in the morning to school, always carrying band-aids (yes, the paw patrol ones you took from the kids you babysit).

You checked the time on your phone seeing it was late since the sun at last went down, your lock screen being your dogs to their complaint since they have a group photos of you all from high school as theirs. To which you replied “They’re my babies” getting a groan and huff out of them.

  Seeing the notifications of your group chat you grinned at the contact name you and Issei gave each other; yall jokingly call each other pet names, his contact being honeybun and yours being pumpkin, even including Makki in your contacts as pudding bc then it wasn’t weird, right? no.

  “What’re you smiling at y/n?” Oikawa cheekily asks teasing you. You turn to him giving him a dirty look, not having enough energy to deal him right now.

  “Don’t listen to his bullshit.” Oikawa’s girlfriend says. You’re thankful for her. She was always on your side, being the only other girl in your friend group. To be honest you just wanted her and you to hang out most of the time, but of course to your disapproval her boyfriend and his friends had to join in.

  “Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m sleeping.” You say getting up to her objection, the only thing on your mind wanting to retire for the night.

  “You sure you’ll be fine? Let us at least walk you home.” She said already grabbing her boyfriend’s arm.

  “Nah, im good. I live right down the road.” You try to say not slurring. The last thing you want is him teasing you even more, especially in this state, knowing you, you’d probably start crying at the slightest irritation when youre this drunk.

    You started to “walk” towards your house resting  your hand against the brick walls to not lose your balance, leading you to run into Issei. You stopped to watch him lean against the alley holding a cigarette between his index and middle finger.

  “I’m hiding like a bitch” He says noticing you, resting his weight against the wall.

 “Wanna be a bitch with me? He grinned  blowing out the smoke out with his words.

You didn’t reply, just walking over to him, just being around him made you feel warm.

"Fuck its windy.” He says trying to light a new cig.

“C’you make me a house?” He asks.

You go up and put your hands around his cigarette, this not being your first time. Your hands wrap a little tighter to prevent the wind from burning out his flame. He joins you with his free hand helping, finally getting his cig to light.

 “Thanks doll” He smirks.

“No problem princess.” You reply earning a laugh out of him.

He takes his first hit with his and your hands still wrapped around it. He gets an up-close look at your hands, noticing how tiny they were, seeing all the scars that he never noticed, making a mental note to ask you how you got them later.

His head gets close to yours for the first time in a while due to his height. You glance at his face, noticing his features seeing some stubble growing on his face.

“You ain’t shave?” You ask, never seeing it in the past, while he was moving back up, blowing the smoke away from you.

“What, you don’t like my majestic beard? “He jokes. Making you giggle almost losing your balance before catching yourself on the wall.

  “s’too much work.” He starts. “You wanna shave it for me?” he says slightly leaning towards you. Handing you back your lighter knowing you didn’t need him to carry it because your pants actually had pockets in them for once.

You let out a soft laugh not responding again. He catches on, you got quiet when you were tired and he made out that you were walking towards your house.

“You going home?” he asks already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” You respond more than happy to have him walk you back, him already moving to walk next to you.

He walks you home, you two talking about random shit, both of you forgetting about your skateboards leaving Makki to deal with them. And even though you’re drunk as fuck you’re still in the right state of mind, carrying a normal conversation with him. But just because you’ve built a tolerance doesn’t mean you can do basic tasks, like walk correctly.

When he reaches your house, he types in the keycode, your first dogs birthday, being glad that you, him and Makki have each other’s memorized.

He leads you into you house setting you on the couch, petting your dogs that ran up to him.

“Mommy’s not feeling too good” He said giving them the affection they deserved.

“Yes I am.” You slurred getting them attention on you now.

He walked over to your counter putting on the playlist that you two made together on shuffle, High fashion being the first to play. You didn’t like when it was quiet because too many thoughts would run though your head. You were in no way sad, singing the lyrics while you were laughing barely being able to hold yourself up as proof.

Remembering you were tired, he takes you off the couch and borderline carries you to your room, , setting you on your plush blankets that you had so many of because it was warm and comfy.

 “Easy, there. Try to sit up.”He said, trying to ask you what draws your pj’s were in because he didn’t want to snoop around; neither of you being bothered that you were half naked, what’s the difference between panties and a bikini, he thought remembering the times you’ve been to the beach together.  

Well it was maybe the fact that you were clinging onto him because u stumbled into him and he was closest stable thing around and you wouldn’t let go because it was cold and you couldn’t stop shaking.

 He ignores his thoughts and grabs the shirt he got out figuring you don’t need to change your bra because you told him and Makki that it was normal to keep it on for a few days after they were in awe as you were explaining how expensive they were. You calling Oikawa’s girlfriend to prove your point as she immediately agreed with you…Sometimes you might have got a little too comfortable with them.

You hear the song in the background change to Love Songs, you humming along, “Hope you smile when you listen.”

You were still holding on to him, your boobs squeezing against him, him only being able to put a t-shirt on you, while you looked up at him with your red glossy eyes making him burn up.  

You fidget timidly with your face now in his chest while gripping his sweater. Trying to build up the little courage you had. He tilts your head up making you look at him, wondering what you were thinking about.

  You try to express yourself, but you can’t get the words out him having no idea what is going on in your head at the moment.

“It’s okay to be nervous sometimes. Tell me” He gently says reading your body language. He was intuitive, so there was no way you could hide your feelings from him.

But you knew you could trust him, him having full self-control, always staying collected and following through on what he said he’d do.  He went out of his way to avoid any friction coming between you two, him never raising his voice or starting an argument.

“We need to talk.” You started. “About something important.”

“Ok…What is it?” He questioned rubbing his hands on your back. You were so nervous, were you really about to say this? Confess your feelings that you’ve pushed to the back of your heart for so long?

“I… I l… I love your face. And the stuff in it. and around it.” You spoke, being surprised you did it stutter.

He stood there, hands stopped moving trying to process what you just said.

“Just you, in general…”  You finally confess trying to state three things at once barely getting your words out.

But he understood exactly what you meant, or maybe he was warping what you said to fit what he wanted.

  "I don’t even know when I started liking you, but this shit won't go away." You restated

  Nope. He clearly just heard you say that.

  He doesn’t understand what’s so different about today. Yall have been in this scenario multiple times taking care of each other, sometimes including another into the mix.  

You didn’t understand either. You just felt like the time was right, even though you know it wasn’t the best idea to confess while you were drunk off your ass.

But you couldn’t help it, your feelings overflowing, which you never until this day let get the best of you, being vulnerable and trusting is not your usual . Youve never even had a crush on anyone, him being to only in your whole life to make you blush.

  Who you been vibin' wit and why I can't make you mine?

  You should have seen the signs that you feel for him when he helped that lady that lives down the street from him set up her Christmas lights or when he first met your dog that wasn’t fond of men, but it instantly liked him. And you loved his selflessness it was something you admired and applauded.

  “y/n” He tries talking you down, making sure you weren’t just saying this because of alcohol, deep down knowing he felt the same, you always being in the back of his mind.

You were generous with your time too, always being there for him. You knew he was softer than he appeared, he was tender, sensitive and vulnerable. He tried his hardest to not get into situations where anyone would get hurt, like breakups, arguments, and so on.

Which is why he won’t make the first move. He pushes his feelings to the back of his head. He values your friendship more than anything, but he can see what develops. If love is meant to be, it will happen.

I told you I am down for the worse or the better. But I keep sticking to you cause them four stupid letters

    “You make me so happy. And I’ll always care about you. Okay? He says breaking the silence, trying to reassure you.  

  “You mean so much to me—something I can’t even put into words because nothing can compare- I’ve wanted you since that day you tripped and bust your ass in the school hallway I still want you even though you drive me insane.”

  “Iss-“ You tried to get out only to have him continue talking over you.

  "I love that you can’t leave the house without a jacket. I love the wrinkles that appear on your forehead after you call me crazy. I love that it takes you hours to get ready. I love that you always know how to make me feel better. I love that even when you don’t agree with my decisions you always trust me to make them.  I love that when I spend a day with you, I can still smell you on my clothes; and I love that you are the last person I think of  before I go to sleep at night."

  You stood there awestruck for what feels like eternity until you mustered the bravery to speak “I didn’t expect you to feel the same way-” You said, being dumbfounded because from what you’ve seen treats everyone “nice”, were you really getting special treatment?

  He tilts your chin up, locking his dark eyes with yours. “Baby I don’t know if your notice but you and Makki are my only people that aren’t my family that call me my first name.”

He has a point. You think pushing yourself more into him, trying to fuse your bodies together to hide, not relaxing what you were doing to him. He tries to nudge your legs to the side but you won’t let go still clinging onto him.

“fuck” He groans. You pulling back wondering why until you looked down and noticed. A smirk appeared on your face as you reattached your self to him like velcro. You were feeling bold, the liquid courage still in your system driving you to slide your fingers down his chest, looking him in the eyes before stopping at his waistband.  

He knows what you’re doing, him being in this position multiple times. Does he really want to ruin your friendship like this? He hasn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend. He tries to push you off him already knowing you were gonna complain. But what he didn’t expect was for you to whimper out his name in that pretty voice of yours.

 He tried to keep his calm, blood already rushing down. “You know what you’re doing”

“yeah” You start.

“y’don’t want me?” Giving him your pouty face that you know he’s weak for, hoping that’ll work, insecurity piling up. Was it because your boobs weren’t that big or that fact that you were dressed like man? Was he not attracted to you right now, only liking you when you were dolled up?

“Fuck” You think. You should have worn something cute instead of dressing like a whole ass man even with your makeup fully done. Its not like you were supposed to know you were gonna get fucked today.

His were burning holes into you now, thinking of how to say “No, I would be more that happy to fuck you!” to his best friend, soon regaining his consciousness finally speaking.

“Fuck no doll, ive wanted you for a minute. You know me better than I know myself. How did you not notice my feelings?”

 You got me singing love songs, love songs, love songs

“You’re really hard to read” You replied trying to maintain your seductive act, resting your hands back on his chest.

“So are you.” He said lowering his head, you still looking up at him, taking in your gleaming eyes.

Sex ain't the only thing that's on my mind But you get me so excited, whoa

Your heart was beating so wildly that you could only take little sips of breath. His hands running down your waist stopping at your hips.

“Can I kiss you?" He asks "...yeah” you attempted to say as confidently as you could, nodding your head along with it.

His face bent down, hot mouth breathing over you. His lips slowly moved, brushing over yours, the liquor on his lips that you hated; only choosing fruity drinks even though you got relentlessly teased you for it.  You pushed further into the kiss desperately wanting more. Your teeth clicking his from being impatient, wanting to suck him in. Your hands sliding under his shirt subconscious desires reaching out.

Irreplaceable Tattoos from your neck that drop down to your ankles

“You’re drunk…” he says snapping you out of your trance.

“So are you.”

He dove in for another kiss much more passionate than the previous one, arguably needy, pusing you on the bed to which you more than happily comply. He tugs back not letting his mind get the best of him, disconnecting your spit trial leaving you panting. “You sure this alright?” He says deep down hoping you still say yes.

  You pull him back for your answer, your grabby little hands working their way back up his shirt. He gets the hint and pauses your lips rendezvous, taking off the turtleneck that he looked oh so good in, before seeing his unclothed body.  You’re admiring his body in a new way, before just complimenting him whenever he got a new tattoo, now up under him tracing them like a lovestruck teenager.

“When did you get this one?” You quietly ask, his ears closer to you than they’ve ever been.

“I got it that day you faked sick”

“What! You said were gonna take me!” You sulked, turning your head away from his as much as you could, crossing your arms.

He let out a slight laugh before gently taking your face in his hands, guiding you back into the kiss.

This is not really what he imagined for your first time. He’s an old-fashioned romantic who likes to take one step at a time. But then again nothing was ever normal with you. That said, when he falls in love, he falls deep.

“You’ve done this before?” You uttered.

“Hmm?” He mumbles, unmoving his lips from you kissing you, moving towards your neck.

“You still with that other girl?”

“No. I broke it off her, everything that came out of her mouth was bullshit, and no she wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“You didn’t trust her? You added. Trying to distract him until you could think of a way you could say “hey in my 21 years of life I’ve never got passed kissing a guy.”

“Our relationship was purely built on lies, I’d second guess everything she said. He replied, wondering if you were interrogating him.

“Why’d you wanna know?” He asked bringing his face up from your skin.

“…No one’s ever touched me like this, fuck.” You bashfully admitted, thoughts racing through your head that he didn’t want you anymore because you weren’t experienced.

But he knew what was running through that pretty head of yours, his fingers reaching out to with your hair trying to comfort you.

“You’re a virgin?” He curiously asked dragging his hand to your cheek, you leaning into it.

“y-yeah” you muttered trying to move your eyes away from his looking down at his body.

“I thought you had a boyfriend before” he said, softly turning your jaw to make you look at him. Your eyes diverted from his arms back to his eyes.

“We weren’t actually dating” You quickly say trying to clear up the misunderstanding. “He was my friend and seatmate that pretended to be my fake boyfriend to get me out of some trouble” you spewed out “and I guess I forgot to tell everyone that it was fake.”

“Even if we were that doesn’t mean we fucked.” You sheepishly replied.

“So… what trouble did your fake boyfriend get you out of.” He questioned knowing how much trouble it must have been for you, miss independent, to go to such lengths.

“Umm, well…this guy wouldn’t stop flirting with me even after I told him I don’t like him, even following me to my other classes.”

He wasn’t surprised, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes, in fact the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes on, your beaming eyes, your dimple when you smiled, your pretty face, your “ugly” laugh, he could go on for days.

“Why are we talking about this” You whined, reaching your hand back out to him.

He took a hint and continued kissing you, bringing you closer to him while you attempted to take you shirt off. His hands helping you seeing as that you were struggling, being lost in his touch, finishing by moving you up more on you bed, pushing your plushies out of the way, to your protested because “they had feelings too.”

He ignored you, bending down to pull your panties off stopping once he saw the slick coming through them.

“Fuck baby you’re wet” He breathed dragging his fingers across your clothed slit earing a whimper from you, leaving his fingers drenched.

 Shawty, you wanna feel good, I wanna feel good too Don't I make you feel good?

“M’always wet.” you responded.

From what? He questions taking off your soaked cotton panties, tossing them to the side.

“From me?” He smirks bringing his hand back towards your heat. You not even comprehending what he just said, just knowing that you’re ashamed of how worked up you were getting.

You were in awe. You’ve always known his hands were big, but in this situation your mind wondered. His fingers were so much bigger than yours knowing you can barely fit two inside your with out it hurting, and not in a good way.

“Do you know how pretty you are? It’s honestly distracting.”. He says kissing down your whole body, stopping at your breasts, licking lazily around and coming back to the nub. The attention on your nipples making you squirm and he finally lets go, you grateful that he stopped or you would have almost cum, how embarrassing.

“I thought you said were gonna get them pierced” He remembered, you going on a whole rant about how cute they were.

“You said u were gnna get em with me” You looked back on, reminding yourself making him promise to get them with you because you were too scared of the pain.

“That was the same day you played sick and I got that tattoo.” He stated lightening the mood, hoping you can calm yourself down before you actually embarrass yourself.

He picks back up and continues kissing all the way down your body, you playing with his hair while biting your lip to muffle your moans and whine until he reaches your entrance.

He parted your legs, your pussy laid out before him, believing you no have reason to be shy about it either. He paused, admiring your swollen cunt and puffy clit, you were beautiful.

The feeling that he didn't want anyone else ever in his position overtook him. He let out a little breath on your clit and you thrashed around. He wasn't going to play. “I’ll take care of you.”

His lips travel over your skin, light and heated before settling himself between your legs, grabbing you by your thighs and dragging you closer. “That tickles.” you giggle, nerves making you kick your legs, almost hitting him in the face before he grabs them. He puts them down locking your legs with his arms, lowering himself until he’s on the ground facing you.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” he teases while your covering your face trying to hide the blush he caused.  He puts his mouth on you, quickly gripping your thighs, his hands leaving imprints in your skin dragging you even more into him, deprived kisses taking over your body. 

“yer so pretty” You purred seeing the sight of his big build between your legs, your fingers grabbing onto his curly dark locks, tugging them.

  Issei moans, his voice radiating through your body, forcing out a cry, blessing him with your pretty voice. “I-Issei!” You cry, never feeling like this before, your vibrator and hands doing it no justice.

“Shh, just look at me, doll.”

You can barely make out what he says, so drunk on pleasure. You try your best, doing anything to see the pretty man beneath you. But you get interrupted by your pleasure, your back arching not being able to control your body, grinding down to meet his lips, heat rising in you.

He kisses through your wetness playing with your bud. You choking on your spit, back arching again your body tensing up. “Issei,” You beg, grabbing him knowing what you want but not being able to express it. Luckily he can read you like an open book, knowing what you want, driving you over the edge as he makes you see stars. “Good girl,” he sighs when he feels you let go of his wrist letting him bring you your first orgasm.

“Look at your thighs shaking so much.” He teasingly cooed, wrapping his hands around them, bringing you out of your daze.

Shawty, your body is so exciting

Arching your back into the blankets, letting out a whine “Want your fingers.”.

He lets out a condescending laugh. “You need to learn to be patient. You just came and you’re already so eager for more?”

But by the time he finished your body went limp, you were totally weak, body loose-limbed and pliant. Your mind clouded by lust and deep in your own world. You gasped out a little sob, unable to comprehend anything beyond the discomfort and the need to have it gone. You can’t think straight all you can do is take action, grabbing his arm him easing his fingers into to you.

It’s not too tight, is it?” you ask clenching around his fingers.

 “Just relax… let yourself feel it” He says barely being able to move in you. Fuck so were so tight.

“I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” He added starting to thrust them inside you, making you let out a string of moans.

“Look how good you take it.”  

“Fuck, you’re so messy.” He groaned feeling the slick running down his hands, before taking them out.

“Issei-i,” You cried when he pulled away, pleasure leaving you, tears coming back.

  He shushes you easily, his fingers wiping your tears. You were so precious to him, your moans music to his ears.  He slows down repositioning his fingers, making you let out a whimper squeezing around them. Your brains so crowded you can’t focus, can’t gather the strength to speak when he thrust them faster inside you.

  Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you fell back, fingers curling inside you, chanting his name over and over, incoherent words coming out of your mouth begging for more. 

You pussy tightens as you cum, unable to breath, letting out gasps and whines. Him still fucking you, fingers not stopping, pushing them in and out relentlessly feeling both pain and pleasure. You lay there, wet in your own cum not giving yourself a break before you went and got what you really wanted, his cock.

His eyes followed the movement of your hands as they pushed down his boxers, revealing the length of his cock, that jutted proudly from his hips. He was so pretty, so virile and handsome. Wondering how lucky you were to be in such a position with him.

You pushed away those thoughts and focused on him, pulling him forward gently, but he followed his encouragement. One of his hands tilted his cock down toward your lips. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

You parted them instantly, tongue sliding slightly outward, and then you whimpered as the warm weight of his cock slid into your mouth. You let your eyes flutter closed and swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock not knowing exactly what you were doing, but it was working, tasting the salty tang of the precum that wept from his leaking slit. You moved your tongue as the he put his hand into your hair, gripping the strands and pushing deeper into his mouth.

“You look so good on your knees like that. “He says meeting your eyes once again, almost cumming from the picture below him.

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He says slowing you down by grabbing your hair, making a pace that you follow.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.” Seeing that sinful look in your eyes with your redden swollen lips.

You moan feeling yourself drip down your thighs, getting even wetter giving him head. Trying to ease the discomfort by closing your legs, griding them together, trying to find some friction. Your ears hearing “That’s so fucking hot.” watching the scene unfold beneath him.

Your jaw hurts, trying got make him cum faster using your hands and lips together hollowing your cheeks. “Oh fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck yes, there, just like that, fucking Christ" he groans out, his voice sounded beautiful to your ears, knowing he was about to cum.

He finally lets go cumming in your mouth, you swallowing it all, trying not to wince at the taste. “Did I do good” You ask waiting for his reply. Your doll eyes, so red and worn out looking up at him for approval. Fuck he was whipped.

“Yeah…fuck baby”

I love when you get on top and you ride it

You get back under him, his cock resting on you, drenched and clenching around nothing, resting in your cum. You working yourself up against him.

“What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?” He says to your complaint.

“You’re not ready yet.” he mumbles against your whining. Spreading your legs, slapping your clit a few times before letting his cock rest on your folds. Finally getting “seated” he picks up your legs and puts them both on one of his shoulders your thighs warming his cock, your knees touching his cheek not moving, getting a kick out of how desperate your were for him.

“s-stop being mean” You cried reaching out for him to come closer, needing affection after all you’ve been though.

“Aww, poor baby, you want me to take care of it for you? He says leaning into you, reaching your kiss, tasting the remnants of the cum in your mouth.

He plundered your mouth and slowly teased his cock over your entrance, catching it against your clit and making you whimper into the kiss, clearly wanting to be fucked. Your kiss turned you sucking on Issei’s tongue and lips, biting the swollen pout until his lips were red and puffy. He pulled back and looked down at you, a beautiful mess under him.

His fat cock head pushed between your folds. The moan escaping both of your lips was primal. You were turned on beyond imagination and the way he was thrusting forward, spreading his leaking precum on your wet clit was almost too much. He quickly picked up his pace fucking your folds, his warm head brushing against your clit with every movement, but your greedy self wanted more.

The fact that he made you cum so easily made you proud. Just because you’ve never gone this far with someone else doesn’t mean you’ve never cum, you’ve had a lot of practice over the years, being insatiable, the sheets soaked underneath you from your previous orgasms being proof.

“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” He moans getting your attention him.

You tried, you really tried, but the way he was stroking you, imagining what it’d be like to actually sit on his cock, the lewd sounds echoing in the background leaving you unable to focus.

He taps on your cheek eventually getting you look at him, keeping your mind on him by placing his fingers in your mouth you letting him, hazily sucking on them, not being able to close your mouth.

“Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.” He grumbles. Your spit dripping onto his fingers, the friction of your thighs making him feral, moving at an even faster pace. Your body bouncing with every thrust.

“You gonna cum after I cum on your little clit? Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” You sob feeling the puddle beneath you, time slowing, fire pooling in your tummy.  Listening to his words you let yourself go. You come with a silent scream as the pleasure ripped through your body, your nails scratching his soft skin. Your vison fading to black feeling him lose his rhythm and moaning a mixture of curse words along with your name, feeling him cum on your tummy before resting his head in your neck while letting your legs go.

“So good for me, look at how much you came.” He says breaking the static. You whining into his shoulder, emotions high, never doing this before.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.” He says. You two laying in silence for an unclear amount of time, him rubbing your back while you rest in his chest almost dozing off.

“Are we still…friends?” You croak out trying to hold back your sobs already knowing the answer that you two were defiantly not friends now and never would be just friends again.

“Friends don’t do this type of shit” He maintained grabbing your shoulders to sit you and him up. You were worried, did he only do this with you because he was drunk? You were anxious that you scared him away because you just poured your heart out to him and pushed yourself on him. You left your head down, tears already coming out to your dismay. You moved your hand up to wipe them but he beat you to it.

“Look at me… I love you.” He says holding your cheeks in his palm. You in awe, hoping that you weren’t imagining it, that this was real life.

“R-really” You question making him worry too, preferring to forgive and forget rather than letting this a divide between the two of you in case you went back on your feelings. You were so overwhelmed, never feeling love until this moment, so happy that the person you longed for liked you back. Yours tears running once again.

 “Shh, shh, it’s alright...Don’t cry.”

You don’t even know why you were crying, the hangover already getting to you making you get a headache. You groaning in his arms complaining that your head and throat hurt.

“Ill be back” he says detaching himself from you, letting you know he was coming right back.

He walks to your fridge opening it to see every drink but water, having too dig through all of them, especially the absurd amount of apple juice guessing it was your “once a year craving for it”. He finally got you some cold water, putting It in a cup and waked back to your room.

  “Issei” you whined not picking your head up from the pillow.

  “Shh baby im right here.”

  He sat down beside you on your bed lifting your head up. “Here drink this” he reassured, to which you ignored not wanting anything to go in your mouth, just wanting the day, or night as it was now, to end.

  “It’s just water, honey, look.” You sat yourself up with his help seeing him in just his boxers, you remembering your still naked, not caring enough to cover yourself. He held to glass to your mouth, babying you, tilting it far back enough to where you could drink it. The water hit the back of your mouth feeling like a shot making you cough.

“I know, it hurts. I’m sorry but we have to” He stated. You continued to drink it, feeling the stinging in the back of your throat, him comforting you, calling you “good girl” which was unsurprisingly working.

  He put the cup on your dresser when you finished, climbing back into bed with you leaning your body into his. “Have you ever thought about...us? Y’know, as an...item?” he said causing you to look at him with wide eyes.

 “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.” He insisted making you cheeks flush. You try to think of a way to respond, not wanting to keep him waiting.

“You’re the best thing that has, and ever will, happen to me. Not only am I deeply in love with you, you’re my best friend.” You stammer out, your shaky hands somehow made there way to his neck, letting them fall slowly before he grabs them dragging you in for a kiss before you got to even see his face.

“Everybody has always thought we’re a couple.” He continued taking his time kissing you all over your face. “Then I guess we should be.” You retort, kissing him back before you could see his reaction, not wanted to be embarrassed anymore today. But he caught you, holding you still “Really “y/n? Like deadass?” He asked.

  “Yes dummy, I want to be your girlfriend” You say causing him to grin swearing you’ve never seen him smile that big, before he gives you one last kiss.

  “I always kiss you on the cheek, why are you blushing now? He teases laying back down, you following along. You just snuggle into him mumbling something along the lines of “m’tired”, he understanding and speaking to you in a soft, gentle voice while helping you to bed, so he doesn’t make it harder for you to sleep by being loud. “I’m here love, I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers into your ear mkanig your heart swoon one last time before you pass out.

  “I l-love you issei.” You sleepily mumble.

“Tell me this when you’re sober.” He says stroking your head.

“Just relax, close your eyes...”He murmurs, your heart beating slower every second. Both of you together, lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns.

  “Oh!…” He remembers. “If you really wanna get them pierced, we could get matching ones.”

© all content belongs to spikesbimbo. do not alter or repost .

[myonepiece]

Buggy, Kid, Killer headcanon- seeing you dance with someone else

•~•~•~•~

You’re already together btw

Sorry they’re kinda long

Buggy

•My poor love I just want to hug him and kiss his nose

•You have been together for 1 1/2 months but of course he’s liked you way longer

•Buggy had dropped you off at an island a little ways away from the one he & the rest of the crew were heading to

•You had gotten into a fight with an already mad Buggy & he insulted you including calling you weak for giving him a flower you had found & you were still very angry which is why you had asked him for time alone

•Once in the village, you were invited to a party on a ship that was going to be staying close to the island- it was a fancier party, thrown by one of the rich bachelors in the village, so you bought a nice long blue dress and some silver heels in one of the village shops

•Later on into the night the band started playing a slow song, and it just so happened that the bachelor who threw the party asked you for a dance & you accepted for distraction from your depressing thoughts

•You had always loved slow dancing and wanted to ask Buggy but you were too scared to because of the whole “pirates don’t do weak stuff” and you classified slow dancing as something pirates would call weak

•The man led you to the center of the parted crowd and rested one hand on your waist and taking one of your hands in his other (or traditional slow dancing position) and he started to lead you

•Meanwhile, Buggy and his crew had boarded his ship and were sailing towards where you were- it was now midnight and Buggy was very worried about you and missed you

•All Buggy wanted was to have you back in his arms laying in bed in your shared cabin whispering apologies and trying to make you smile & smiled just thinking about it, but his smile and his heart quickly broke as he spotted you through binoculars, dancing in the arms of another man

•His mouth straightened into a thin line as his heart squeezed at the thought that 1 fight had ended his relationship with the woman he loved more than anything

•The closer they sailed, he could make out the mans grip on you & your smiles as you looked at each other while slowly moving in the romantic setting

•Buggy’s heart felt like it was being ripped apart as he remembered that he had called you weak for giving him that flower, surely you thought he wouldn’t want to do something as cliche and “un-piratey” as slow dancing in the moonlight but he would love to do that with you, to have you smile at him the you were smiling at the rich man holding you

•Of course someone like you would never really love someone like Buggy, a stupid clown pirate with a giant red nose- Buggy’s thoughts turned against him as he fought to hold back tears, he told Cabaji to get you into the ship and then he left to hide in your shared cabin

•You saw the ship but didn’t see Buggy, you figured he saw you dancing and your heart hurt at the thought of hurting the man you love

•You got right on the ship and ran below deck into your cabin where Buggy was sitting on the bed sulking

•Your heart broke at the sight and you locked the door behind you as you hurried across the room and sat in front of Buggy and took both of his hands in yours apologizing profusely “I’m so sorry my darling I promise it meant nothing”

•You explained your thoughts and reasons to a teary eyed Buggy and after you finished he nodded and said he understood but he would dance with you anytime and didn’t mean to call you weak, he actually loved the flower you gave him

•You took off your dress while buggy turned and closed his eyes, then gave you his coat to wear to bed

•He held directly on top of his chest and looked you in the eyes telling you “I love you do so much Y/N, I promise I’ll do anything to make you happy” to which you respond with kissing his nose before following with a “I love you too my clown king” then falling asleep as he cradled you to his chest with a bright blush and huge grin

Kid

•You’ve been together for 7 months

•It’s no secret Captain Kid doesn’t do romance, so when you ask him to slow dance with you he says no

•You’ve asked on multiple occasions but he always makes a disgusted face and says “pirates don’t slow dance”

•Kid said slow dancing is weak and he was too strong for that

•Kid is a violent, cruel, & aggressive man so you can’t say you expected him to say yes to any of your requests

•When you heard about a fancy little party going on at island you landed at, you decided to go and get some food & dance a little

•You asked Kid to come and dance, but of course he said no and that he and the rest of the crew were going to find a bar

•You found a beautiful long dress in one of the town shops and set out to the party at sunset a little after the crew had left

•All eyes were on you at the party, as you walked around and had a few things to eat and a few drinks

•A slow song started and you wished Kid was there, but you realized he would’ve scoffed and continued getting drunk

•You just wanted him to hold you close as you swayed to soft music, you wanted him to be soft instead of crude and pervy

•So when a man asked you to dance you accepted with only a tiny part of your brain worrying about Kid

•Kid had seen you follow a path into the woods, wearing a dress that complemented every part of your beauty

•He just couldn’t help but smirk and tell Killer to watch the crew as he went to follow you

•He was also angry that you were going out to a party alone wearing that

•The path led Kid to a small courtyard lit with lanterns, with music playing and people dressed in nice clothes

•He looked through the courtyard for you but he didn’t see you until the guests all moved and made room for a couple slow dancing, the couple being you and the stranger

•As soon as he saw the man’s arms around you leading you in a slow dance & the wide smile on your face showing that you were enjoying this, Kid felt his heart clench

•He didn’t feel all anger for once, he felt an ache in the pit of his stomach

•He hadn’t realized how much you would have enjoyed slow dancing with him, you had asked him many times but he always saw it as weak

•He knew he was violent, aggressive & scary, and seeing someone make you smile so beautifuly by being so gentle.. so opposite him made him feel... insecure

•Kid felt like he was losing you and he hated that feeling, like the one thing he loved was being ripped away from him in front of his eyes

•He snapped & barged into the courtyard grabbing you by the hand and tearing you away from the man then leading you into the woods to a clearing where the moonlight cast a spotlight-like glow

•Kid rested his hands on your waist and looked into the distance with a solemn expression as he started to sway

•You didn’t know what happened but you were finally getting to slow dance with Kid so you placed your hands on his strong shoulders rested your head on his chest

•You mumbled a “thank you” into his chest and after a few moments Kid whispered a soft “I love you Y/N” into your hair as he rested his head on top of yours

Killer

•God I love this man

•You had only been together for 3 1/2 months

•Killer would’ve said yes if you had asked him to slow dance with you

•He didn’t mind doing romantic things for you especially when it made you so happy

•He’s in love with you and would anything for you

•You had never asked Killer to dance with you because you had assumed he would say no because you were pretty sure pirates don’t slow dance and you didn’t want him to think your were weak or pathetic for asking for something so cliche

•So after having a few drinks in a bar, you were feeling particularly soft and in a romantic mood

•You weren’t completely drunk but you were tipsy enough to think it was okay to go outside to slow dance with a man who had asked you and who was not your boyfriend

•Killer came back from the bathroom and asked Heat where you went, to which Heat responded by pointing towards the door with a skeptical and somewhat nervous expression

•Killer walked out of the bar hoping to find you alone so you could spend some time with you alone, so he was not happy at all when he walked out to see you swaying slowly in the moonlight shining into the alley around the corner with your hand in the hand of another man

•He had his hand on your waist and his other hand holding yours (in a traditional slow dancing position)

•Killer felt his heart drop immediately and his heart clenched as he took in the sight of your contempt smile

•He was very insecure about himself, his laugh, his appearance with his mask, and the way you couldn’t look into his eyes like you were looking into the other man’s

•Accompanying the jealousy and hurt that clawed at his heart, there was an anger and possessiveness and a few drinks but not many that caused him to rush into the street and grab the man by his shirt and throw him to the ground away from you

•Killer waited for the man to run away before he turned back to you and pulled you towards him with his hands on your waist

•You placed your hands on his strong chest as he swayed slowly with you looking down at you through the holes of his mask

•”I really wish you had asked me to dance with you if that’s what you wanted to do” Killer said in a quite voice laced with hurt

•Your Heart broke at the sound of it and the realization of what you had done “I’m so sorry Killer, I just thought that someone like you wouldn’t want to do something so... weak”

•”I would do anything for you sweetie” Killer said softly as he hugged you to his chest, you looked up and kissed his chin lightly before settling your face in his chest