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queercodedvillains · 11 months ago

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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

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fanaticsnail · 1 year ago

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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.

#one piece #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #x reader #fic writers #thank you for writing to me #thank you for reading my fics #I appreciate you

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quietblueriver · 2 years ago

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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.

#avatrice week #avatrice #sister beatrice #ava silva #warrior nun

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sukipershipper · 2 years ago

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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

#punch out #punch out wii #punch out!!#punchout #little mac #headcanon post

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carli-meows · 2 years ago

Text

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

#the one cloud gang #lav77 #RRC7 #music I want to make

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libidomechanica · 2 months ago

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Untitled (“Must to those whiter blow”)

A tricube sequence

Must to those whiter blow. In celebration,

for her break her: strong, and even

what they came. Thousand rings of time.

Or who in sweet? So stood in my head,

alley cats expended bee, sorrow

liue. Have given the Fair one bed lay.

Before me— the sad look of his song,

and eddied instead I say you are

these and sun. His God, or King: alas!

In thine arm! As Helluo, late dictator

of the night and day: and each sex,

like a basketball. Woman and marred.

Marching step of demirep some hungry

for her long bin placed the old age

black hair. Of flower of womankind.

To these their jingling keys opened each

man kills the fills with the pageant history!

In Debtors’ Yard the causeys, bridge.

—As with home; not for ever in the

Carian Artemisia strong upon

the provinces, and all is higher.

Through rude nettle- briar, cheats us

into red and ankles pointing cry

they tremble lest a saying: Youth! Day.

Or, if she rules; charms by accept the

hangman’s heart of your little one, that

wol his head. Would be seen blue heaven?

You are you can’t say, sun’s lost in the

world, as when a voice, he had a dream.

Literary leave, for fear this word?

Revive, or twice a day of you like

a blind these were, that is fidelity?

The age to live on the green shell.

That shame alike, no season knows how?

Threading talk like variegated tulips,

show, tis from the world’s content you?

In my time, if so indeed, seeing

thy follye be true? Flake of those that did

driue so fast, with sight so long; despair.

’Er books and my old excuse. Issued

in the wisest man and high fantastic

roof, of the sky, would understand.

I would ride. Soon were such as chanted

principles, woven in the verse and

Life are false hastes; so anxious ear.

Then rode we with your mountain. To the

lawn the heart of this moment, like thing

wild in pink and barred. Or do you here?

Leaf and distort thy worth, and at ever

saw a man to fight wind comes near

to speak, or stir. See so waist, and men.

Since we’re allowed, and whom they die. Head

and grew before this? And with spire and

it with his shadow of his minutes?

Us, a single band of the

happier dead. Some fifty there one walked

among the purpled, spiking away.

But this evening strongly groomed and bread.

Do not be for ever! Our embracements

warm as they roar back again.

And I distilling all the work they

grew? Kept? Of my face against all men

kill the gloom, and there opposed to rave.

Be false to your Faith he may bring it

universe every selfishness! As

chanted grew with using; thence the mone.

I fancies, patches, ropes of her advice.

From tile to till? Yet, hadst a pain

like the young, but here I used to peer.

Bowed, and extinguish sight cadence of

midnight, they will to rove! In a moment,

and sit beside that bliss destroy!

Opening on the best to hunt, I

put him into stubborn, but the old

inn-door. Never saw sad me did reed.

Far off appeare more soft splendours and

string and flung defiance down in the

pain was not come as goblins in time.

How charming and clown: perhaps the hart

is ill assayde, how I admire ech

turning-steel we felt, what means the day.

Sure of the Earth, and you so totall

are? Like a ballistic missile, would

take the temple- gate. Two besides them.

Place, and Stand, while I weep! Revive, or

twice, to the griefe, witnesse well that you,

as I saw it filled in by missing.

For my sorrow out of time thou leave

me. Never the day of darkness. Are

you nobly, mingled with face a mask.

Mine were on his ocean? We give you

do not grow complete and power of

the lowest. Those are just musings one!

Now conscience within my head, nor robbed

the dark After all, the frosty air

will I feel now. Grew in such a place!

My heart, my Katie? It must I horse

her press these tender to the right across

the royal word upon his lair.

Over the beam of the nightgown would

understand. Be right across that same

Adonis sometimes it was summer.

Moon rages and the song i’ve been wood,

and lose convention, with shadow? Lay

in his ample awnings gay betwixt.

Sooner or late; love, all forbid me

then, good-bye! The beautifie your little

one, while her mouth— sesame, olive.

She looks at a cadaver. Are you

allow me them a curse. ’ Proving him

her dripping waters with money burns.

In silence is more lives this knows nothing

real. In the furrow broke their pretty

though its giant range of lookes?

—She wants an heir. Of race accounted,

that I feel thou know who lie in gaol

is full of books and mid- May’s eldest.

And nights will hardly any air. With

a though it isn’t decorous today;

she, who never yet I stack by him.

In the bones of greened fields are full of

charms on the brave man who have been half

in love. Watch out for those sugred lips.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #125 texts #tricube sequence

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snazzynacho · 5 months ago

Text

Masterlist!

Basically a list of all my fanfics etc :)

I write predominantly female oc’s/readers.

Last updated: 1st January 2025

Requests: Closed

GLADIATOR II:

Geta:

Courting a female gladiator - (WIP)

A Blessing or a Curse - (WIP)

Caracalla:

None yet.

Marcus Acacius:

None yet.

Lucius:

None yet.

LOTR:

Aragorn:

Where Fairies Wander - Aragorn x fem!fairy!OC (WIP, on hold)

The Hobbit:

Thorin Oakenshield:

Snapdragon & Co. - (chapters 3/?) mainly a Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!fairy!elf!OC (on hold)

Fili Durin:

Falling Behind - Fili x gn!fairy!reader: the reader is staying in Mirkwood and goes to investigate why the dwarves are imprisoned only to try and cheer up a grumpy Fili. Much to the reader’s surprise his grumpyness is to do with them! (WIP)

One Piece/OPLA:

Sun and Moon - (Chapters 2/?) Sanji x afab!OC (and a lil bit of OC x Buggy, & possible Nami x oc) In which twin sisters Nadja and Relia, who are running from the Marines and chasing adventure, bump into a lying young man, an annoying clown and a group with a straw-hat-wearing boy for a leader. Thus chaos ensues.

The Umbrella Academy:

Diego Hargreeves:

Haven - (chapters 1/?) Beth meets Diego in a sketchy alley. He is beating someone up and she happens to be nearby. She asks if he needs any help. He seems to say no, but she sticks around for some reason anyway. She ends up saving him from a night at the police station and for that he’ll forever be in debt. Join her on an adventure of discovering superpowers, time travel and a family’s messy dynamic she didn’t know was living right under her nose.(on hold)

Dad Diego headcanons

The Band Ghost:

None yet.

Kingsman:

Eggsy Unwin:

Princess - (chapters 1/?) in which the posh girl and the chav fall in love. Closed-off and un-admittedly stuck-up Gwendolyn Winslet is one of ten candidates training to be chosen for the open place at Kingsman. If she passes she will become a Kingsman, or rather, Kingslady. One person in particular - who on paper does not belong there - catches her attention, for better or for worse? (On hold)

RPF:

Bojan Cvjetićanin:

Behind Closed Doors - (Chapters 3/?) You are one of Käärijä's dancers for Eurovision 2023 and Bojan can't keep his eyes off of you. Meanwhile, you deal with conflicting feelings between him and your best friend Käärijä... (on hold)

Wrong Number - (chapters 2/?) In which a woman accidentally texts the wrong number, and it might be the best mistake she's ever made: On the day of the 2023 Eurovision semi-final, which Poppy is attending, she excitedly sends a text to her sister, Clover, — a selfie of her standing outside the venue. Little does she know she hadn't actually sent it to her sister... (on hold)

#masterlist #snazzynacho masterlist #joker out #tua #Diego Hargreeves #the hobbit #Thorin fanfic #thorin oakenshield #fanfics

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savage-kult-of-gorthaur · 6 months ago

Text

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.

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whollyjoly · 1 year ago

Text

hello there! my name is em, and i'd like to welcome you to my blog ✨ when im not staring respectfully at alton more's face, my hellblog will mostly be band of brothers, star wars, and a dash of m*a*s*h! im currently taking a break from 9-1-1, so sorry if that's what you're here for.... 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: my tall smirking husband (alton more), making moodboards, music, putting flower crowns on literally anything and anyone 🌼 ships: band of brothers - winnix, baberoe, speirton, luztoye, webgott, randlemartin, skowers, gashey ❤️ star wars - codywan, kalluzeb, anidala, stormpilot, rebelcaptain, kanera, dincobb, techphee m*a*s*h - traphawk, hawkahy 9-1-1 - bucktommy, henren, madney, bathena see you around, friends! 💫

Masterlist ✨

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

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

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! 🔥

#masterlist #about me #em speaks #can you believe i've finally made a big pinned intro post??#i've finally done it after over 12 years #hell yeah

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rcmandaniels-archive · 11 months ago

Text

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 )

#☆ int. elijah falvey #providence.event #☆ evt. sinners & saints [valentines 2024]#//sksk ur all good

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slutdge · 3 years ago

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

#clown alley #punk rock #clown alley band #melvins #melvins band #uploads #80s

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 2 years ago

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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.

#fnaf #glamrock chica #glamrock freddy #freddy fazbear #montgomery gator #roxanne wolf #danachans asks #five nights at freddys security breach #fnaf sb

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discount-limeade · 2 years ago

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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.

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theladyofbloodshed · 3 years ago

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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.’

#gwynriel #gwynriel week #my writing #one shot #gwyneth berdara #gwyn berdara #azriel

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