#Song time

[melit0n]

"Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time, plans that either come to naught, or half a page of scribbled lines"

[agomeangelcat]

Trigun Troupe with a Isekaid Reader who generally sings earth songs!

-GROUP BEING CHASED-

Y/N: RUN DEVIL RUN RUN DEVIL RUN RUN!!! 

Wolfwood: STOP SINGING AND RUN!!!

___

Y/N: Your are an angel with a shotgun!

Vash: ??? -eating pizza rolls-  

___

Y/N: A seven nation army couldn't hold me back!!!  -Y/N with Wolfood glasses and punisher in hand-

Wolfwood: Y/N U FREAK, I WILL KILL YOU!!!

Vash: NO!

__

Y/N: Six feet tall and super strong!  we always get along! 

- points Vash with finger guns-

Vash: -laughs putting his hands up-

_

-All sitting around a bonfire but Y/N its a little faraway looking at the night sky

Y/N: I don't know if you can hear me or if you're even thereI don't know if you would listen to a my people's prayer

Wolfwood: - thought it was a prayer instead of a song-

Y/N: Yes, I know I'm just an outcast I shouldn't speak to you Still I see your face and wonder Were you once an outcast too?

Meryl and Roberto: -were too stunned too speak-

Vash: i like that one.

__

Y/N points at Roberto.

Y/N: Your my dad bogieogie ogie!

Roberto: ...sure kid.

___

Y/N leans into Meryl's back with a distress face. 

Y/N: I kissed a girl and I liked it the taste of her cherry chapstick-

Meryl: Y/N!?

___

Vash, Wolfwood and Y/N trapped upside down after being chased and captured.

Y/N: i have a song for this!

Wolfwood: NO-

Y/n: Oh, the misery Everybody wants to be my enemy Spare the sympathy Everybody wants to be my enemy-OW WOLFWOOD!

Vash: please dont fight you two.

__

Y/N: WOLFIE I HAVE A SONG FOR YOU!!! 

Wolfwood: JESUS ​​NO-

Y/N: Mummy don't know daddy's getting hot!!!  -Y/N jump on top of the car doing the clip-dance-

Wolfwood blushes.

Y/N: At the body shop, doing something unholy -makes the sign of the cross-

Meryl was holding back her laughter at the absurd scene. 

Roberto: I need a drink. 

Wolfwood was too shocked to speak and too embarrassed to ask the rest of the lyrics, he didn't want to appear interested in Y/N's nonsense. 

Vash: ...what's the rest of the lyrics? 

Wolfwood: NO!

___

Y/N pulls Vash away from the group in the desert. 

Vash: Show me your Moves!

Y/N: ! Hohoho...California girls We're unforgettable Daisy dukes, Bikinis on top!

Vash and Y/N start doing Power and Denji's dance.

Y/N: Sun-kissed skin So hot We'll melt your popsicle!!! 

Wolfwood: -Inhales-

(Wolfwood is Aki.)

[helluvaoutlaw]

S & M

(Prisoner of Lust AU)

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Striker stood in the dressing room at Ozzie's, the club's dim lights casting a sultry glow over the array of costumes hanging from the walls. Tonight was his last performance before his wedding, and even though he would've had to come back next week, he was still happy.

He carefully laid out his outfit for the evening: a seducing BDSM black leather ensemble, complete with knee-high boots and a black leather military cap.

He started with the boots, sliding them on and lacing them up tightly, ensuring they were snug against his calves. The boots were a statement piece, adding an authoritative edge to his look. Next came the leather pants, which clung to his legs and accentuated his toned physique. As he adjusted the waistband, he couldn't help but smirk at the thought of the reactions he'd get on stage tonight.

The top was a tight leather vest, adorned with silver buckles that glinted under the light. He fastened each one meticulously, making sure everything was in place. The vest hugged his chest and torso, highlighting every muscle. Finally, he placed the black leather military cap on his head, tilting it at a jaunty angle. He looked at himself in the mirror, a vision of dark, seductive power.

Striker owed Lollipop for this opportunity. She had agreed to swap shifts with him, letting him perform tonight instead of the usual Saturday, ensuring he had Friday free for the wedding. It was a favor he didn't take lightly, knowing how coveted the weekend slots were. He made a mental note to thank her again later, maybe with a gift or a drink after the show.

Knock knock

"Yeah?"

"Time to get on stage, babe~"

"Comin', Ginger."

"Hhhmmm, you better, you naughty boy~"

Striker chuckled, shaking his head.

In time, he got used to this kind of teasing, and actually got to know the other performers and the rest of the staff much better.

They were great company, and actually helped him a lot these past few months.

Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his cap one last time and stepped towards the door, ready to give the audience a performance they'd never forget. This was his moment to shine, to leave a lasting impression before stepping into the next chapter of his life. As he walked towards the stage, the familiar buzz of excitement and adrenaline surged through him, a reminder of why he loved performing. Tonight, he would make it count.

"Na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na, come on, come on, come on

Na-na-na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na, come on, come on, come on

Na-na-na-na, come on"

As the spotlight pierced through the dim haze of Ozzie's, Striker emerged from the shadows, each step exuding confidence and raw magnetism. The crowd's murmurs fell silent, anticipation thickening the air as the music began to pulse with a deep, rhythmic beat.

"Feels so good being bad

(oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

There's no way I'm turning back

(oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Now the pain is for pleasure

'Cause nothin' can measure

(oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Love is great, love is fine

(oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Out the box, outta line

(oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

The affliction of the feeling leaves me wantin' more

(Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)"

Striker moved with a deliberate grace, his knee-high boots echoing softly against the stage floor.

" 'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it!

Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it!

Sticks and stones may break my bones,

But chains and whips excite me!"

The leather of his outfit glistened under the lights, accentuating the sinuous movement of his muscles.

" 'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it!

Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it!

Sticks and stones may break my bones,

But chains and whips excite me!

Na-na-na, come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it, come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it, come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it come on, come on, come on

I like it, like it."

In his hand, he held a sleek black riding crop, the ultimate symbol of control and desire.

"Love is great, love is fine

(oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Out the box, outta line

(oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

The affliction never feels me wantin' more

(Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)..."

He twirled the crop with a deft flick of his wrist, its presence an extension of his own commanding aura.

" 'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it!

Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it!

Sticks and stones may break my bones,

But chains and whips excite me!

Na-na-na, come on

(come on, come on)

I like it, like it, come on

(come on, come on)

I like it, like it, come on

(come on, come on)

I like it, like it, come on

(come on, come on)

I like it, like it

S, S, S and M, M, M

S, S, S and M, M, M..."

His hips swayed to the beat, every movement calculated to entice and enthrall.

"Ooh, I love the feeling you bring to me

Oh, you turn me on

It's exactly what I've been yearning for

Give it to me strong"

Striker's eyes scanned the audience, a smirk playing on his lips as he caught the captivated gazes directed his way.

"And meet me in my boudoir,

Make my body say, "Ah, ah, ah, " I like it, like it!

'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it!

Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it!

Sticks and stones may break my bones,

But chains and whips excite me!"

With a slow, deliberate motion, he traced the tip of the riding crop down his chest, the leather brushing against the silver buckles of his vest. The touch was both teasing and commanding, a silent promise of what was to come.

" 'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it!

Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it!

Sticks and stones may break my bones,

But chains and whips excite me!"

He spun around, the crop trailing along the curve of his thigh, before snapping back into his hand with a satisfying crack.

"Na-na-na, come on

(come on, come on)

I like it, like it, come on

(come on, come on)

I like it, like it, come on

(come on, come on)

I like it, like it, come on

(come on, come on)

I like it, like it!"

The music's tempo increased, and so did Striker's intensity. He dropped to a crouch, the riding crop tapping against the stage in time with the beat. His movements were fluid, a tantalizing blend of strength and seduction. Rising to his feet, he let the crop slide between his fingers, a look of playful dominance in his eyes.

Striker's dance was a story of control and allure, each flick of the crop and twist of his body drawing the audience deeper into his spell. He danced closer to the edge of the stage, letting a few lucky patrons feel the whisper of the crop's leather against their skin, a fleeting touch that left them yearning for more.

As the music built to its climax, Striker's movements became more fervent, the riding crop now an extension of his own rhythmic pulse.

"S, S, S and M, M, M!

S, S, S and M, M, M!

S, S, S and M, M, M!"

With a final, powerful crack of the crop right on his ass, he struck a pose, chest heaving and eyes blazing with triumphant energy. The crowd erupted into applause, a testament to the undeniable magnetism of his performance.

The imp gave a final, slow spin, the riding crop held high like a victor's scepter.

He blew a kiss towards the crowd, knowing he had delivered a performance that would be talked about long after the night was over.

As he stepped off the stage, the cheers and whistles followed him, a perfect end to his last show before the wedding.

He let himself fall on a chair in the dressing room, tired and sweaty.

Satan's balls, he was getting too old for this...

[shoomlah]

I have a feeling that beneath the little halo on your noble head There lies a thought or two the devil might be interested to know You're like the finish of a novel that I'll finally have to take to bed You fascinate me so

You Fascinate Me So, Blossom Dearie

[kensatou]

i'll let phie-san say it:

[s0up1ta]

ANYONE ELSE WANT A PIECE 🤬🤬😡👹🗣️

alt versions under the cut:

couldn't decide so take all of them

edit: I MADE A DESKTOP VERSION !!

[mroddmod]

don't be weepy sleepy puppies

[yokyoaaa]

GET MESMERIZED IDIOT‼️💥💥💥💥💥💥‼️💫💫🌀🌀

[officialspec]

can i say something. for years i thought the joke of the song short skirt/long jacket by cake was that he wanted a woman who was hung like a horse. like i thought when he says jacket it was a last-second fakeout because he very obviously meant to say cock. and the rest of the things in the song were just her personality and interests. which were secondary to her awesome penis

[nouverx]

Louise never heard about puppy love, cause they don't know that term in France 💔

---------------------------------------------

Lyrics are from Louise by TV Girl ! I was listening to it yesterday and that specific line on the second page screamed Alastor I just had to draw something about it

[jamnsketch]

venus // pluto

[helluvaoutlaw]

Happy Birthday Harper

*An elegant , deep purple box gets delivered to Harper with a note on top of it:

"Happy birthday, Harp. Hope you'll enjoy the gifts- S."

Once she opens it, she can see a beautiful katana laying inside. She can clearly see that the blade is made with angelic steel.

Harper can also see a small, black USB key, right beside the katana.

Once she puts it in a computer, she can see there's a video inside.

After clicking the video, this is what she sees:

Harper can see Striker set up his camera, adjusting the angle just right. He takes a deep breath and starts strumming his guitar.

"One, two, three, four

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh..."

The melody fills the room as he begins to sing, his voice smooth and soulful.

"Every time you come around, you know I can't say no..."

He croons, his fingers dancing effortlessly along the strings.

"Every time the sun goes down, I let you take control..."

The camera captures every movement, every expression as he loses himself in the music.

"I can feel the paradise before my world implodes.

And tonight had something wonderful..."

His eyes meet the lens, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he sings.

"My bad habits lead to late nights endin' alone,

Conversations with a stranger I barely know,

Swearin' this will be the last, but it probably won't,

I got nothin' left to lose, or use, or do,

My bad habits lead to wide eyes stare into space,

And I know I'll lose control of the things that I say,

Yeah, I was lookin' for a way out, now I can't escape,

Nothin' happens after two, it's true, It's true,

My bad habits lead to you.

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

My bad habits lead to you.

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

My bad habits lead to you."

With each verse, his energy intensifies, his body swaying in time with the beat.

"Every pure intention ends when the good times start...

Fallin' over everything to reach the first time's spark..."

He closes his eyes, feeling the music pulsating through him as he pours his heart into the performance.

"It started under neon lights, and then it all got dark.

I only know how to go too faaaaar...

My bad habits lead to late nights endin' alone,

Conversations with a stranger I barely know,

Swearin' this will be the last, but it probably won't,

I got nothin' left to lose, or use, or do,

My bad habits lead to wide eyes stare into space,

And I know I'll lose control of the things that I say,

Yeah, I was lookin' for a way out, now I can't escape,

Nothin' happens after two, it's true, it's true,

my bad habits lead to you.

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

My bad habits lead to you.

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh."

As the song reaches its climax, Striker's fingers fly across the fretboard, his voice rising in passionate crescendo.

"We took the long way 'round...

And burned 'til the fun ran out, now..."

The camera captures the raw emotion etched on his face, the intensity of his performance palpable.

"My bad habits lead to late nights endin' alone,

Conversations with a stranger I barely know,

Swearin' this'll be the last, but it probably won't,

I got nothin' left to lose, or use, or do,

My bad habits lead to wide eyes stare into space,

And I know I lose control of the things that I say,

Yeah, I was lookin' for a way out, now I can't escape,

Nothin' happens after two, it's true, it's true

My bad habits lead to you.

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

My bad habits lead to you.

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

My bad habits lead to you."

With a final strum, Striker concludes his song, a satisfied smile lighting up his features.

"Happy birthday, darlin'...I love you."

He winks, before stopping the recording.

@the-only-noonstar

[ronanxing]

harana

[ylissebian]

WOMEN ARE MY FAVORITE GUY 💥

[juliangelart]

"I've been searching, all of my life,

Finally I've found my north star."

[riocinn]

those were the lyrics right