#i was kidding about the saxophone by the way

[peppermintpillz]

(click for better resolution)

Disco Kid Week appreciation from @artformationcoreir

Ignore how long I took with this, life and getting sick TWICE has made me busy.

Day 1: Took some inspo from some old 80’s clothing I did some research on. I chose the 80s since Disco Kid seems to really love the 80s/90s vibe with his boxing persona. 

Day 2 + Day 3: This one should be obvious lol. Made this a comic as well to get day 3 out the way too. Also Ghost Aran is based off the Luigi’s mansion ghosts, since they’re canon to the Punch Out universe. 

Day 6: I feel like Disco Kid likes MORE than just the Disco genre, and he actually has an appreciation for most music. He just happens to be in a disco phase, he’ll probably find another music genre to base his personality off one day. I think naturally he loves music, and so he joined the performing arts as a kid, specially tap dancing and playing instruments (he seems like a saxophone guy). Based off his opening cutscenes, Disco Kid seems to be well-off, so I think he grew up in a rich family and was forced into growing up faster than he should’ve. (and like many others, I do think Kid Quick is his dad.) I think his dad really only cared about boxing, and so he pushed Disco Kid into following the same career path (he didn’t want to, but he didn’t really have a say.) 

Day 7: Decided to draw genderbent Discoaran for funsies since that’s the only personal version I think I have of them. 

also the inspo for the genderbent drawing:

[marragurl]

Not the first to say it, but damn can’t believe Galladay really went from toxic yaoi to doomed tragic yaoi.

Alright fellow Galladay trash, where’s the modern AU fix-it fics?

I need to see Gallagher single dad with Misha plus their dog/cat Sleepie falling for entertainment company CEO Sunday. Don’t ask me how they met, fuck it, throw in bodyguard AU Gallagher who works part-time at a bar, boom there that’s how they meet, idk I’m making this up on 3 hours of sleep.

You’ve heard of slow burns, now get ready for Galladay blaze it.

They’re speedrunning the relationship from hate -> annoyance -> mild disgruntlement -> weirdly vibing -> ok wow never knew I needed that in my life -> Sunday is way too ok with spoiling Misha -> ok so we got married -> alright we’re dismantling the government now -> Sunday went to jail for 5 minutes for attempting “peaceful” world domination, don’t worry we (Gallagher) forgave him -> Sunday’s stepping down as CEO to run a coffeeshop idk look someone get him some therapy -> Robin is president now while she still goes on tours -> Misha won an engineering competition while this was all going on

Bottom line: Robin is out living her best life while Sunday is in the back somehow having the most insane week of his life. I have no other notes for her here except that she is happy, and successful, and is Sunday’s last remaining brain cell. She and Misha are having some fun Aunt/Nephew bonding times while Galladay are accidentally-on-purpose committing multiple war crimes.

No, we don’t have time to unpack 2.2 and all its trauma, we cope with modern AU :)

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

I Put A Spell On You.

‘Smoke’wants you back, and he’ll do whatever it takes.

(Part one maybe?)

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine

You better stop the things you do

I tell you, I ain't lying

I ain't lying…

Word got around that Smoke was back in town. You couldn’t miss him with his snazzy suit’s silhouette characterized by broad shoulders, a high waist, and wide-leg trousers. A quintessential element in a man’s wardrobe. The whispers traveled to many ears, but it was only one pair he was concerned with.

Rosetta Scott.

A dilly he’s obsessed with. His soft-spoken jazz singer. She ended their relationship when Smoke decided to up and leave New Orleans with his ill-tempered identical twin brother, but he promised he’d be back and to write him. After two years, he’s back and ready to stake his claim on his woman.

Smoke hopped out of his Cadillac 16 cylinder wearing round, small sunglasses with wired frames. He removed his 8-panel hat and shut the door behind him. Smoke took a long drag of his blunt while staring straight ahead with a lopsided grin.

The reflection within the circular lenses of his dark frames was one he’d missed for years. A living tapestry of culture, history, and an unmistakable passion for life. This place, with its rhythmic streetcars and the spicy aromas from its kitchens, isn't just alive; it breathes stories at every corner.

Stretching his long legs with a purposeful gait, his expensive gaiters picking up dirt, Smoke pushed open the withering, wooden, hinge doors leading into a lively establishment. The smell of fish fry, sweat, cheap cologne, weed, and sex titillating his nose caused a wide grin to spread across his thick lips. He slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing piercing, brandy-eyes and a primal desire.

There she was. Doing what she loved. He was joyful. Proud.

laidback with rhythmic flexibility.

That husky breathy tone.

Her vocals always had a very raw unedited feel which made her songs feel more real and personal. She also tends to use harmonies and layering which sometimes gives the song a drowning all consuming affect.

The silk of her flowing silver slip seemed to mold into her hourglass frame. The premium fur shawl she wore hung loosely from her glistening shoulders. Her lips the color of ox blood stained the mic in front of her. The swing and blues notes with complex chords blending with her sultry voice had everyone on that floor dirty dancing.

Smoke broke his eyes away reluctantly, taking off his suit jacket, placing it on the back of a chair. He ashed out his blunt and placed it in the front pocket of his crisp, white button down. Smoke made his way towards the bar, unbuttoning his sleeves and his shirt along the way.

“Yes, daddy! Play that saxophone!”

“Sing it Rose!”

“Let’s Jive!”

“Ooooweee! If it ain’t Mr. Smoke Stack himself! Come over here!”

Smoke chuckled deeply before dabbing up his uncle and the owner of the establishment; Buck. His liquor breath and gold teeth were two things you remembered about Big Buck. Or, how he’d like to call it ‘I’m Big Buck and I like to fuck’. And boy did he get his share of pussy. He had eight kids to prove it.

“Look at my nephew! Now hold on…where is your twin?” Buck’s yellowing eyes wandered around in search of him.

“He’s handlin’ business. No time to settle. You know how he get. I had to break away tho’ I got business to ‘tend to.”

Smoke accepted a glass of whiskey and took a long sip. It burned so good down his throat.

“Yeah, uh-huh. We know why’s you here! That gal. You know she’s seeing someone else, right?”

The corner of his upper lip fluttered with disdain at the thought of another man touching his bitch. Smoke wasn’t having it. One look into his eyes, she’d fall into his lap again. Wet puss and all. She wrote him often. Sent him pictures. He’d gotten them all. So, was she doing all that while messing with some squat-ass fool?

“Gimme the low down, Buck.” Smoke insisted impatiently.

“Aight, nephew. Another?”

Smoke raised his glass, “hold the hail. I don’t need no watered down shit. I’m tryna get swacked.”

Buck’s gut laugh filled the cramped space between them.

“You remember Phonzo?”

“Shid, not pussy ass Phonzo? C’mon now gal…”

“Damn straight. He wines and dines her. Buys her shit…”

“She using.” Smoke replied.

He turned his eyes on her again. She looked so damn fine. Mmm. That body was nice. He could smell her perfume on his mustache. That amber scented flesh. Smoke knocked the rest of his drink back and stood from his seat at the bar. She ended another song and received a standing ovation. Smoke pushed his way towards the front but before he could get there, a man reached out to help her down. Her joyous laugh made Smoke’s stomach churn.

“Put me down, baby! I had too much to drink!”

“it’s Smoke Stack!”

All eyes fell towards the handsome gangster. Smoke ignored all except those pretty, doe eyes that locked on him with utter shock. Short and stacked. The finest woman in all of Louisiana. Ain’t no way she’s giving all that to Phonzo. Smoke pressed forward, his penetrating eyes racking over Rosetta’s frame. It was easy to tell the twins apart because one had a noticeable scar on his face and the other didn’t.

“Well I’ll be,” Phonzo secured his arm around Rosetta’s waist tighter, “Smoke. What’s shaking, man?”

Smoke’s lips remained tightly sealed and his eyes never left his Rosey. Tension was thick in the air like the sound of the powerful double bass.

I love my moonshine whiskey

Better than I do my man

I love my moonshine whiskey

Better than I do my man

You got have your beer in your bottle

Give me my cool kind hands…

“Rosey…”

Rosetta parted her deep-red lips to speak.

“Smoke…”

That voice. He’d missed it.

Smoke Stack was seeing red.

“Get yo’ hands off my woman, Phonzo.”

“You think you can just show up? This ain’t your woman anymore, Smoke. You proved that when you left her for the taking. Go on somewhere now…”

Phonzo attempted to walk away with Rosetta in his grasp, but Smoke swiftly grabbed her hand, swinging her over towards him with an expert twirl of her beautiful frame. She collided with his sturdy chest, her eyes staring up at him.

Rosetta was still trying to pick her jaw up from the floor. She couldn’t believe Smoke was back. The familiar warmth of his much larger and more powerful frame sent images swirling through her mind of the times they’ve shared. She hadn’t received a letter from him in almost a year. Every single day she worried herself about him. However, Rosetta had entertained the thought of being with Phonzo. Tonight would have been the night that she would have given Phonzo a taste of what Smoke Stack dicked down. It was an act of desperation.

“Rose! Whatchu doin’ gal? Don’t let this fool back into your life!” Phonzo reached his hand out for her to take, “I won’t leave you like he did. Remember? I promised that trip to Chicago. We can pack up and catch a train!”

“I’ll take her to Chicago, to Trinidad, Paris, wherever my money goes, she goes. You had your fun tryna get what’s mine. I suggest you fade, Phonzo…”

Um, make me another two bit pint

Um, make me another two bit pint

'Cause I've got my habits down

I'm gonna wreck this joint…

“Let’s go,” Smoke had a strong grip on Rosetta’s hand as he placed her in front of him to walk away.

Rosetta finally gathered her thoughts. She halted her footsteps inches away from the bar.

“Hold on, Smoke,” She pointed a red nail at him sternly, “How dare you show up here like this?! I haven’t heard from you in over a year! You can’t just walk up in here and whisk me away like some night in shining armor! Who do you think you are?!”

“Says which? I’ve written you!” Smoke shouted back.

“I ain’t get one letter in a year!”

Smoke kisses his teeth, “That’s some bullshit and you know it. Maybe the letters got mixed up…none of that matters now, baby. I’m back. For good now…”

Buck and another bartender watched the two of them go back and forth with amusement.

“We’ll see how long that lasts!” Rosetta sassed.

A gun clicking had Smoke on high alert. He pushed Rosetta behind him and turned, staring down into the barrel of a pistol. Phonzo was sweating bullets. He had two of his lackeys behind him, posted up like they were ready to do damage. Rosetta clung onto the sticky bar top, peeking around to see what the ruckus was about.

“Time to knock you off that high horse. You and that brother of yours don’t run shit ‘round here no more. Give me back my bitch, and we can get back to jivin’.”

“Excuse me?!” Rosetta argued, “I got your bitch—”

“Rosey, relax, baby. Daddy got this.” Smoke looked from the pistol pointed at his chest, to Phonzo with a sinister smile, “You off the cob or something, Phonzo?”

“You tryna make me look pussy in front of my boys?!”

Smoke tilted his head to size up his ‘boys’.

“They shakin’ in they boots just like you. C‘mon now, Phonzo. We can do this the easy way…you put that steel down, and walk away. I came for my woman and that’s it. Pick yo’ self up and use those bony-ass pegs and leave.”

Laugher erupted around them. Patrons watched on like it was a live performance. Phonzo always hated being the laughingstock. No one took him seriously. People tolerated him because Smoke and his twin skipped town to handle business.

“I ain’t going nowhere!” Phonzo yelled.

He pressed his gun into Smoke’s chest hard.

“Nigga, you ain’t got shit—”

Smoke picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels and cracked it over Phonzo’s head. When Phonzo dropped to his knees with shards of glass embedded in his face, Smoke snatched his pistol up and pointed it at the two men that were once standing proud. They both shared a look with each other before bending over to pick Phonzo up.

Smoke placed the pistol in the waistband of his slacks and snatched a handkerchief out of his pocket to clean up the blood that seeped from a gash in the palm of his hand. People were used to violence ‘round here. Too drunk, high, and horny to care about Phonzo bleeding out onto the floor. Buck didn’t blink an eye as he shined a new glass before pouring a gentleman a glass of top shelf whiskey.

“Get ‘em out. Don’t come back, nigga. I’ll use your pistol to put a bullet in yo’ head fuckin’ wit’ me!”

Phonzo—delirious and bloody—was dragged out of the juke joint by his two loyal men. Smoke knew that as soon as Phonzo regained consciousness, he’ll be on the hunt for him. Smoke was ready.

Smoke took a seat at the bar and pulled Rosetta into him. Blunt between his lips, glass of whiskey in front of him, Rosetta gave him a light, watching her daddy with lust.

You know I can't stand it

You're running around

You know better, baby

I can't stand it 'cause you put me down

Oh, no…

“Smoke, Daddy…”

Rosetta took the blunt from between his lips and hit it. He watched her with low, hazy eyes. All he did was walk through those doors. She was at his mercy like he’d never left.

“You’ll really take me to Paris?”

Smoke accepted his blunt, “I’ll take you all over the world, baby…listen, I know I got some makin’ up to do, but don’t you ever do no shit like that again, hear me? I’m a always come back to you…”

“You right about that makin’ up,” Rosetta giggled, “We got all night though. Phonzo was my ride home…”

“Here, go grab my jacket and we can go.”

Smoke tapped Rosetta on her rump and pointed to where he placed his suit jacket. He paid his tab and promised to be back to catch up with his uncle. Rosetta returned and Smoke grabbed her by the hand, ushering her out of the juke joint and into the murky night.

_______________

Smooth leather seats, a pistol on the dash, windows rolled down.

Rosetta and her fur shawl sat elegantly next to a hunk of a gangster. She admired the stain of her lipstick on his cheek when she stole a quick kiss while he opened her door for her.

She missed her Smoke Daddy so damn bad. It hurt to the bone. Smoke could feel her pretty eyes on him and he glanced over to her, giving her a dimpled smirk filled with mischief. They were halfway there to her apartment above a boutique.

“I missed you, Rosey. So much.”

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine…

“Where did you go?”

Smoke took a moment to respond.

“…My brother had business in Texas. Then we picked up some jobs throughout the south. Made enough money to last us a lifetime…Made some bad choices, but I’m richer. Stronger. Ready to sweep you off yo’ feet. I want you to travel the world and sing to audiences bigger than that hole in the wall. Serious, gal.”

Rosetta blinked away tears.

“Don’t do none of that, baby. No crying…”

“I’m just glad ya ain’t dead somewhere in a ditch!”

Rosetta accepted a clean handkerchief from Smoke. She dabbed her eyes to avoid messing up her makeup.

“I made a promise to get back to you and I meant that.”

Rosetta exhales, “I know, daddy…I just…I’ve been so touch starved. I would’ve given Phonzo all of me if you hadn’t shown up…”

Smoke’s nostrils flared and he looked at her with those dark eyes that made her clench her thighs.

“Phonzo don’t know what to do wit’ all that. And you belong to me. All of you. You make that pussy cum while Daddy was away?”

“Yes…but it wasn’t enough. I miss the fuckin’ we used to do…”

Smoke’s Cadillac slowed to a stop in front of the boutique Rosetta’s mother owned. She worked there for extra money, but now that Smoke was back, she didn’t have to work. Smoke opened her door and helped her out. Shutting it, they walked towards the shop and Rosetta opened the door with a single gold key. Smoke observed his surroundings with a sharp eye before following her inside. It was dark, but the moonlight ignited a path for them leading towards a narrow staircase leading up to Rosetta’s apartment that she shared with her mother.

She had some privacy for now since her mother went away to visit family in Baton Rouge for a week. The boutique was closed until she returned. Rosetta opened the door and flicked on a light. It was exactly how Smoke had remembered it. Small and cozy and blessed by a woman that practiced root work. Rosetta walked into their small kitchen and opened the fridge to grab a pitcher of water. She poured a glass for Smoke and herself.

“You can stay for a few days until momma comes back. It don’t matter how grown I am, she don’t like men over…”

“I get it. I’ll have a place to stay. Then you can leave here and be wit’ me.”

“Smoke…”

Smoke finished his glass, sat it on the counter, and pulled Rosetta close. His hands caressed her back and dragged down to cuff her cheeks. Eyes locked on her face, he brought his plump lips to her own, pecking them with soft kisses. Rosetta whimpered and shifted, slightly raising one foot. Smoke hooked his strong arm around her trim waistline. His other hand squeezed the flesh of her plump ass.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you, Rose? Couldn’t wait for daddy to come back?”Smoke asked with his lips barely touching hers, “That’s alright, though…Im gon’ remind you just who you belong to...”

Suddenly, Smoke delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Rosetta gasped as she felt the sting of each slap. 

“Smoke, I’m sorry…I didn’t fuck him…I swear.” Rose pleaded.

“But you gave ‘em hope. If I hadn’t shown up…”

His wide hand lifted her silk dress over her ass and he went to town whacking each cheek—left, right, left—the pain increasing. Rosetta buried her face into his chest, her lipstick staining his shirt. Smoke palmed her cheeks hard, savoring the heft of that juicy flesh in his rough hands.

“Damn,” Smoke stared over her shoulder and down at her rump, “this big ass…mmm…mmm…mmm…I wanna look at that pussy, baby…I still have that picture of your pussy in my wallet…”

Rosetta set up a camera and took photos of herself nude before sending them off to whatever address Smoke told her to send it to. He’d beat his fat dick every night to all her photos. He stole a pair of her panties as a reminder of her scent. Anything to keep his sanity.

“You do?” Rosetta stared up at Smoke.

“Yeah,” Smoke retrieved his wallet from his pocket. He presented the photo to Rosetta. It had cracks in it from being folded, but her hairy mound, phat clit, and glistening folds stood out against the black and white, “She still nice and bushy?”

Smoke had a thing for hair. He hated whenever Rosetta would do a clean shave. Since he’d been gone, she’d started shaving again. Luckily, there was enough hair there to satisfy his desires.

“Not too much, daddy…”

“Mm,” Smoke flicked his tongue against her lips.

“I want you to do it to me, daddy…”

“Do it all night long, baby?”

“Do it to me, papa…”

Smoke’s dick jumped and stretched to proportions he couldn’t handle.

“I wanna suck on that pussy first…”

Rosetta’s clit twitched at the thought of Smoke slurping on her pussy cat until she was wrung dry. She had a lot for him to drank up. When she first laid eyes on him tonight, the wetness soaked through and created a slippery, sticky mess. Those big lips and that thick dick…

“Let me smell it,” Smoke picked Rosetta up and sat her down on the cramped counter space, “Spread your fuckin’ legs you sexy, bitch…”

Rosetta made quick work of her thighs spreading wide and limber. Smoke could see a big wet spot in the crotch of her cotton panties. He didn’t waste time stroking the outlines of her fat lips that strained against the fabric. Smoke chuckled before slipping her panties to the side. His fingertips graced coarse hair covered in slick and heat. Beyond that was a clit made to be suckled.

“Shit, she still get nice and wet for me,” Smoke admired the shine on his thick fingers before bringing it to his nose to take a whiff, “fuccck,” He pushed his fingers into his mouth and licked them clean, “Fresh pussy…taste so good…”

He was down on his knees with his fingers tangled in her panties to keep them out of his way. Rosetta brought one leg up and it opened her lips more for him to eat. The humidity of that kitchen had their brown skin glistening beneath the dim, yellow, lamp lights. Smoke spread her lips and stared into her pussy. Rosetta stroked his slick-back, begging him to put his face in it.

Smoke buried his nose in it first. He rubbed her clit with the tip of his nose before using his lips to encase her clit and suck. He sucked nice and slow to warm her up, but then he created a vortex so tight with his lips Rosetta almost fell from the counter. The sucking came at a rapid pace—precise and intense.

“Uhnnn,” Rosetta gasped and moaned, “Daddy!”

Rosetta stroked her pussy many times to one of her favorite raunchy tunes. Jump Steady Daddy by Lucille Bogan stayed on repeat whenever she rubbed on her clit to the thought of her Smoke Daddy. She missed when he would come to her late at night, sneak in her bed and eat her pussy. She loved it when he would be on his knees, holding her weight up and fucking into her.

Love me, daddy

Love me all the time

Love me, daddy

Love me all the time

And if you love me like I did

You'll be that jump steady man of mine…

“Yes, ooh, daddy, papa,” Rosetta’s thighs shook out of her control, “Ima cum…Ima cum…”

The thin straps of her silk slip dangled from her shoulders and perspiration trickled down her spine. She didn’t have time to prepare before she was creaming down Smoke’s chin. All he did was suck her clit. He came up for air, lips dripping wet and face glistening with cum.

Her nipples poked out through her slip, teasing Smoke’s eyes. He was as hard as stone, unable to bear the feeling anymore. Smoke stood and picked Rosetta up from the counter, carrying her towards her room. The door was ajar, so all he needed to do was nudge it and he was walking inside. He didn’t bother closing the door. Smoke placed Rosetta on her back, climbing on top of her and sticking his tongue in her mouth.

Rosetta smoothed his button down shirt over his shoulders and Smoke pulled his arms through. He had on a white beater that clung to his muscles like plaster. Smoke broke his lips away and trailed kisses down her neck until he was at the tops of her breasts. Rosetta arched up into his chest, soft moans music to his ears.

Smoke used his teeth to yank the rest of her slip down, revealing 34 C breasts with large nipples that reminded him of chocolate-covered gum drops. Rosetta dragged her nails through his hair, messing up the smoothness of it, revealing waves. Her updo had come undone, finger-waved hair falling into her eyes. The salty, sweet taste of her skin caused him to growl.

“Daddy…I wanna taste that dick…”

With a deep exhale, Smoke stood up. Rosetta sat up on her knees with her dress around her waist and went to work undoing his slacks. She pushed down his boxers and his pants in one motion, his dick bobbing out like a pendulum and hitting her on the chin. Rosetta admired how girthy and veiny her daddy’s dick is. She licked up the precum before it was wasted and with her eyes on him, she wrapped her lips around him and sucked.

“Ahhhh…There you go, baby…that’s how you welcome me home…suck this big boy…gobble it up…”

Her soft hair in his grasp, Smoke’s toned hips pumped her throat. He curled his top lip, revealing golds, grunting at the feel of her tight throat.

“Ugh, fuck, baby…the best dick suckin’ bird in N’awlins…”

Rosetta giggled in response. She prided herself in her skills. Sucking dick and riding dick was her specialty. Smoke licked his lips, eyes barely open as he watched her. He tilted his head and started drilling her mouth. Loud gagging noise started, Rosetta’s once pristine makeup now running down her face.

“You’re so beautiful wit’ my dick in your throat, baby…make daddy cum…so I can fuck that pussy…”

His girth increased, Rosetta’s jaws tightening. She grabbed hold of his balls and worked her neck like no other. Smoke chewed on his bottom lip and threw his head back.

“Hmmm….mmmmmm….”

His hips spasmed out of control. Rosetta almost choked on his thick cum. She had to spit his dick out just to swallow what she could. The rest painted her chest.

“Turn that ass over,” Smoke stepped out of his pants and with one hand on his long dick, he pumped it, “On your knees, gal.”

Rosetta brought that ass in the air and arched her back deep. Smoke stood behind her with a big dick swinging. Rosetta hadn’t felt it in two years. She was afraid. Shaking with fear. He had to open her up again.

“Use them big girl words and tell me what you want,” Smoke slapped her cheeks around, “Where you want this dick?”

“Daddy, fuck me!” Rosetta begged.

His dick aligned with her ass and with his big hands he tucked it higher. Smoke grunted and slapped her bouncy cheeks.

“Ouch! Papa…” Rosetta cried, more from surprise.

It hurt so good. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of her ass, leaving behind a burning sting that only made her wiggle her ass against him. Smoke rubbed her down before digging his fingers into the flesh, spreading her wide, and thrusting into her.

“Oh, my! Smoke!”

Rosetta’s ass recoiled and bounced off of Smoke’s sturdy hips. He had her by the hair, keeping her back arched. That man was fucking her like he was fresh out of jail. His thick shaft gave her stretch and his length made her feel it in her stomach. The sound of her wet pussy matched the skin-slapping.

“Big dick on you! Fuck!”

Smoke let go of her hair and grabbed her hips. Rosetta looked back at him with her mouth agape and brows knitted together in disbelief. His hair had puffed up and some strands fell over his forehead. He looked wild and sexy. Muscles flexing, golds flashing, eyes unblinking.

“Keep fuckin’ me, papa! Fuck this wet pussy, daddy! Oh my goddddd—”

Rosetta fell forward and buried her face in the sheets.

“Uh-uh,” Smoke brought one leg up, leaned over her, and wrapped a hand around her throat, “You can take this dick. Get that shit you want so bad,” Smoke said.

Every cry or whimper that came out of her mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a groan of his own in her ear.

“Grip me up like that…good girl…that’s it baby…”

Rosetta felt hot liquid trickling down her thighs. Tears brimmed her eyes and her body seized up with her release. Smoke withdrew his hips and got down behind her to lick her up. He licked her thighs, then trailed his spit to her folds. He rolled her onto her back and scooted her towards the edge of the bed. Ass hanging off, legs thrown over his shoulders, Smoke put that dick in her pussy and pounded up into her with sharp thrusts that had her toes curling.

“Oh, shit!” Rosetta and her swinging titties couldn’t handle it, “Damnit, Smoke! I’m cumin’ !!!!!”

Scooting her onto the bed, he pile-drived her into the creaky mattress. Folded in half was an understatement. She stared down the valley of his impressive body at his dick.

“Big Daddy!” Rosetta pressed her feet into his chest, “Fuck me good! Take this pussy!”

“This my fuckin’ pussy…”

Smoke slammed into her before dropping down to kiss her soft lips again. His thrusts turned into modulated pumps that caused her to gasp. Each time his dick would enter her, she would gasp with surprise. Smoke nibbled on her pouty bottom lip and stared into her eyes longingly.

You know I love you

I love you

I love you

I love you anyhow

And I don't care

If you don't want me

I'm yours right now…

“Cum for me Smoke Daddy…”

His forehead furrowed and with one more sharp thrust, he erupted deep in her womb.

———————-

[latin5mamii]

worth remembering

genre: judebellingham x you

summary: one of your dates where he remembers everything about you..

author's note: unexpected but i posted! Finally, you deserve it!Also England games just finished and i'm happy for our baby boy (player of the match!)🥹

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ

You loved that place. From the moment you stepped in, it felt like home. The warm light reflected off the wood, the glasses, and every corner of the room, wrapping everything in a golden glow. The wooden floor creaked softly underfoot, giving the space a lived-in charm. It was the kind of spot you’d miss if you didn’t know to look for it. But Jude knew. He remembered, and not only that, he brought your favorite flowers too.

He held the door open for you as the faint sounds of saxophone and piano spilled into the crisp evening air. “After you,” he said, his smile soft but sure.

You stepped inside, greeted by the warm hum of conversation and the low murmur of jazz wrapping itself around the room. The place smelled faintly of wood and something rich, like spiced wine, and you couldn’t help but smile. It was perfect.

Jude glanced down at you as you both weaved through the intimate crowd toward your table. “You like it?” he asked, his voice low, just for you.

You nodded, already feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “It’s perfect, thank you"

He grinned, his hand brushing yours for just a moment before he pulled out your chair. It was such a small thing, but the simple gesture sent a flutter through your chest. Jude was always like this—thoughtful in ways that made you feel seen, cared for.

"Thank you for what?"he teased, leaning closer across the small table.

You laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s hard not to. This is exactly my kind of place, and my favorite flowers.”

“I know,” he said, his tone easy, confident. “You told me that on our second date. Remember?”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. You did remember mentioning it, vaguely, during a conversation over coffee and pastries. “You remembered that?”

“‘Course I did.” He shrugged, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “You said you loved jazz because it felt like music you could live inside . Thought it might be nice to bring you somewhere you could feel that.Then, you're worth remembering"

Your chest tightened at his words, the sweetness of them catching you off guard. You glanced away, feeling suddenly shy under the weight of his gaze. “You’re too good to me,” you murmured.

He chuckled, low and warm. “Not possible.”

You talked about everything and nothing—your days, little inside jokes, and even the time you tried to play jazz piano as a kid and failed miserably.

“You? Bad at something? Hard to believe,” Jude teased, his grin teasing.

“Oh, I was awful,” you admitted, laughing. “The teacher begged me to pick a different instrument. Or maybe just stick to listening.”

“Well, good thing you did,” he said, gesturing around the room. “Wouldn’t want you up there. I’m not sure I could sit through it.”

You swatted at his arm playfully, laughing despite yourself. “You’re mean!”

“Only a little,” he countered, his laughter echoing yours.

The waiter approached and asked if you were ready to order, but Jude politely requested a couple of minutes to decide on a drink. Your attention lingered not only on his words, but also on the way he spoke, the gestures of his hands, and the flowers he had brought for the evening.

The waiter then excused himself, promising to return in a couple of minutes. The moment he was gone, Jude shifted in his seat, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looked at you across the small, candle-lit table.

“Do we really need two minutes to figure out what to drink?” you asked, your voice light and teasing, though there was a nervous flutter in your chest at the way he was watching you.

“Absolutely,” Jude replied, his smile deepening. “Choosing a drink is an important decision. It has to set the tone for the night.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning in a little closer, his voice soft and inviting. “It’s about more than just taste. It’s about what feels right in the moment. The kind of drink that matches the mood, the place... and the company.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the way he said the last part, but you tried to play it cool, shifting in your seat and taking a small sip of your wine. “Well, I’d say I’m pretty easy to please. A glass of wine is good enough for me.”

“Wine, huh?” Jude mused, his eyes darkening with something unreadable. “I can see that. You strike me as someone who enjoys something a little... classic. Elegant.”

You felt a little shiver run through you at the compliment, the way his gaze held yours as though he saw something deeper, something more. You smiled softly, trying to ignore the way your heart picked up its pace.

“I like things that feel comfortable,” you said, your voice quieter now, more vulnerable than before. “Things that feel like they’ve been around long enough to be familiar.”

Jude’s smile softened, and he gave a small nod. “I get that,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours.

You shyly giggled, feeling your heart race from his gaze, a flutter of warmth spreading through you. His eyes never left yours, and the way he looked at you made everything feel just a little more intimate than it had been before.

"Do I make you laugh?" Jude asked, his voice soft but teasing. "You're cute when you do that."

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly looked down at your glass, trying to hide your smile. “I—guess I can’t help it,” you mumbled, glancing back up at him. “You’re just... funny.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with a playful grin. "Am I? Or are you just saying that because you’re trying to hide that smile?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head a little. "Maybe both," you admitted, still feeling a little flustered under his gaze.

Jude’s smile softened, and he leaned forward again, his eyes full of warmth. “I like it,” he said, his voice quieter now, like it was just for you.

"Just so you know" he stopped for a moment "You owe me another date"

You tilted your head, a playful glint in your eyes. “Oh? And why is that?”

Jude leaned back slightly, folding his arms with a mischievous smile. “Well, for one, I’ve brought you to your favorite spot, remembered your favorite flowers, and made you laugh all night. I’d say that definitely qualifies for at least another date.”

You raised an eyebrow, the corner of your lips tugging into a soft smile. “How can I say no?”

"You can't" He chuckled, then continued "Won't let you"

[synthshenanigans]

Thinking about this again and how the first time I heard the song, I legit thought he had a separate singer for the higher parts. But no it was actually just CJ

God the range this man has

[baronessvonglitter]

Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 2

Rom Com AU divorce lawyer!Dave York x fem!Reader (featuring nightclub owner! Javier Peña)

Word count: 1,736

Summary: After reflecting on the ups and (mostly) downs of your relationship with Javier, you make a decision about your future.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit for allusions to smut. Mention of selling drugs (Javi). Mentions of past infidelities (Javi again). Mention of illegal activities going on in Javi's club. Threats towards Javier. Basically Javier Pena is a walking red flag but reader was in love.

Author's note: this is basically just backstory on how reader and Javi got together. Dave makes an appearance at the end. Also, big love to everyone who's taken the time to read/reblog, or leave a nice little comment. 💜

Series Masterlist

I told you so.

That's the phrase booming through every thought in your brain as you try to come to terms with Javi's infidelity.

And it wasn't even the first time. You could kick yourself for being so trusting and so blind.

From the moment you'd met Javier Pena, who sold drugs to your friends behind the football field bleachers during your senior year of high school, you'd fallen for his bad boy persona. Motorcycle, leather jacket, aviators, cigarette resting between pouty lips, perfectly groomed mustache. He looked like the saxophone solo from "Careless Whisper".

He'd graduated six years ahead of you, and still came around campus, a legend in his own mind. That should have been your first red flag.

But out of all the girls who flirted with him, you were the one he wanted.

He'd whisked you away on his motorcycle, bringing you home so late that your parents forbade you from seeing him. But nothing could stop true love, that's what you had with him. Javier saw you, made you feel seen. He listened to you, big brown eyes studying your every feature, compelling you to kiss him, to do things you ordinarily wouldn't have.

You were engaged right after you graduated, much to the consternation of your family. But when your engagement seemed to go on and on without an actual wedding date in sight, you had your doubts that he really wanted to marry you.

After giving him an ultimatum which led to Javi telling you he wanted to wait another few years to actually tie the knot, you'd separated from him, giving back his ring, crying yourself to sleep as your mom or your sister would make their best attempts at soothing you. Seeing him with other girls - a different one riding behind him on his motorcycle each time - during those separations only further broke your heart. You found out you weren't so special after all.

But he always came back, always smooth talked his way to your too-good heart. And you let him back in, grateful for his kisses again, grateful for the way his body molded to yours, the splay of his hands across your hips as he bent you over and fucked his way back into your life.

The wedding, when it finally happened, went by in such a blur-- the two of you at the county courthouse, Javi in his best suit, bolo tie and new shiny boots, you in a simple lacy white dress you'd found at a consignment store, tailored to your measurements, and flowers in your hair. Javi had whjisked you away right after the ceremony, unceremoniously fucking you in the backseat of your car.

You'd always wanted kids, your maternal instinct going haywire any time any of your friends announced they were pregnant. You'd run your fingers longingly along the wooden cribs and quilted blankets on display at Target. It felt like the end of the world when Javi admitted he couldn't give you any children. His 'family visit to South Texas' just a couple months after your marriage was actually him recuperating after his vasectomy. You'd nearly left him then, deeply hurt by his secrecy and betrayal, but considered that you could make him change his mind one day, and he'd have it reversed.

A married man, he wanted to rely on steady income to support you besides selling weed and adderall to high schoolers. One thing he was good at was showing people a good time. He had his heart set on opening a strip club, but when you vehemently refused to stay married to him if he did just that, he set his sights on the next best thing and bought out an old roller rink with the help of his lifelong buddy Steve Murphy and renovated it into a nightclub.

His purchase of the club drained any savings you'd amassed in the first few years of your marriage, and you only saw a return on the investment once he'd promoted every night, made deals with shady people, allowed a few illegal gambling, drug, and prostitution outfits to operate within the walls of his new sanctuary. You looked the other way, only able to stomach the idea of being okay with it when Javi offered to buy you your own small business.

All your life you loved two things: baking and literature. Fresh croissants over the latest Janet Evanovich, homemade chocolates and The Great Gatsby. Ever the businessman, Javi talked you into creating your own business, gifting you the seed money to open Fiction & Frosting more expeditiously than you were comfortable with, mainly because you knew just where the funds for your business were coming from.

Planning and decorating had been the fun part to get you away from that thinking. You made the place your own, with your stylistic touches and smooth melodies to play over the ambience. You handpicked the titles that went into your store, including New York Times bestsellers along with lesser known authors and self-published works. Meet and greets were held, helping to gain traction when well-known authors were brought in to do press for their latest releases and for up and coming writers to display their own works.

You were proud of your own business, and eventually made enough money to pay Javier back for his investment. But even though your conscience was clean, your problems weren't necessarily over.

With Javi at the club most nights, you were lonely. It would be near dawn when he'd come home, stinking of cigarettes and alcohol, and, occasionally, another woman's perfume. And still he'd curl up next to you, kissing your neck as if nothing was wrong, spooning you so you could feel his bulging erection through your pajamas.

You'd stayed away, hoping to keep separate the Javi you loved and the Javi you knew had a business to maintain. But one night in particular your curiosity got the best of you and you found yourself driving to the club close to closing time.

The interior, tacky red and orange lighting that gave you the feeling of entering Hell, glowed with an intimidating glare as you looked around for your husband. Music blared from the DJ booth. The bartender on duty gave you vague answers as to Javi's whereabouts, but Steve was there, nursing a glass of Stoli. He coolly informed you Javi was in his office, and you chose to ignore the wry little smile on his face.

The closer you got to his office in the back, the more muffled the music got. But that only served to make louder the pounding of your heart, booming in your ears.

Seeing him at his desk with a woman on her knees, bobbing her head up and down enthusiastically was not what you expected to find. You immediately ran away, tears streaming down your face as you went out the back alley, slumped against the wall, defeated and heartbroken. When Javi found you, apologizing and telling you she didn't mean anything to him, you pushed him away, cursed him, wanted to kill him.

But Javi was Javi, and despite the way he broke your heart so many times, you couldn't make yourself stop loving him. And so you made the choice to believe him, to hug him, to keep from leaving him.

You think about that night now that you're actually leaving him.

Like a bird with a broken wing you go straight to your parents' house, and they invite you in without a second thought, holding in their own 'I told you so's' until you repudiate Javier yourself, recounting every time he 'interviewed' for bottle girls, groped a waitress, or lied about any little thing. You shine the light on his villainy, and in your hurt and angst, it feels good. You leave out the parts about the illegal activities.. it's already too much to tell them of his more hurtful iniquities.

"He never deserved you, sweetheart, I knew it from the beginning," your father says to comfort you.

"He made a pass at me last Thanksgiving," your younger sister says.

"He made a pass at me on Mother's Day," your mom says.

You shake your head, hating everything that you're hearing. But you force yourself to face the facts you've been avoiding for so long.

Your dad and brother go with you to get your things, providing a buffer between you and Javier, who's begging you to come back. He looks bedraggled, unshaven and unkempt, so unlike the put-together man you've come to know. You don't have the heart to meet his eyes, only gaining some satisfaction when your brother shields you from him while your dad helps carry your stuff out to his truck. It's the only bright spot in your day when they threaten to beat the ever-loving shit out of him if he dares to come near you again. You've never seen Javier scared until that moment.

You're so strong, your family commends you as you as you find a small place to rent, making your split official.

Your first night alone, after your sister has left and you're tidying up, putting away the washed wine glasses, you remember Dave.

In all the hubbub of the messy end of your marriage, you think of the divorce attorney, and you grab his card from your purse.

David L. York, Divorce & Family Law

The next morning you call and are put through to his direct line. Hearing his voice over the phone, so professional and yet warm, brings you back to that day you met him, and you feel a sensation of butterflies in your stomach.

"It's me," you give him your name and he remembers you immediately, bringing a smile to your face for the first time in days.

"I've been by a few times for coffee but I haven't seen you there," he says with some concern, and the butterflies multiply when you realize he'd actually sought you out.

"I've been busy," you make a lame excuse. "And not feeling very well."

"Oh," he replies. "Which is it? Busy or not feeling well?" he teases.

"Considering what I'm about to tell you.. both."

"What's going on? What can I do for you?" he asks, as if he'd do anything at all you ask.

"Oh, I heard you handle divorces. And I'd like to hire you to do mine."

dividers by @strangergraphics & @saradika-graphics 👑

taglist: @penascigarette @joelalorian @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@darkheartgatita @speaktothehandpeasants @rav3n-pascal22

@vickie5446 @eviispunk @mrs-pedro-pascal @zascal

@sunnytuliptime @mysticsuitcasealmondwombat @joelmillerisapunk

@almostfoxglove @itwasntimethatdidit40 @604to647

@milla-frenchy @everybodylovedcontractors

[captainwinterrsoldierr]

Greetings.  I would like to make a request with Lester where the (female) reader recently turned 18 and she and Lester have been together in secret for a while and Apollo's sons and daughters are shocked that their stepmother is supposed to be barely older than They.  Thank you!☀️

Ty for the request! Sorry it took so long to post!☺️🫶🏽

Title: Do We Call you Stepmom now?

Apollo x Fem!Reader

-

You finished up with training the new demigods at Camp. The new kids gathered their supplies and walked off to prepare for dinner. You finished cleaning up the weapons and sorted them properly on the weapon stache.

The sun rays glint brightly in the clear waters. The golden hue of the sunset always made you smile thinking about him. Just the thought of him made you blush and made your heart thump. As if reading your mind, you heard a chariot land behind you. You turn and saw Apollo getting off the chariot. He transformed into Lester. You didn’t mind at all. You loved him both ways no matter what. But he will always be the goofy, charming Lester to you no matter what.

His eyes glossed over as his mouth curved into that brilliant smile of his. He held out his hands and cupped your face gently. His blue eyes twinkled. Lester leaned into you and placed his lips onto yours. His kisses were always like this. Slow and meaningful. You always felt loved by him.

“I missed you darling,” He said pecking your lips.

You giggled, “I just saw you yesterday.”

He sighed dramatically, “Oh my love and it’s never enough.” His hands traced your back and he held you closely.

You glanced over your shoulder and saw Kayla walking over to where you and Apollo were.

“Ah!” You pushed him away and started to pretend lifting a sword.

Lester raised his eyebrows at you, “Y/N!”

“I’m sorry but we haven’t told your kids yet we’re together! What will they say! Im a Demigod!” You panicked ducking behind a shield.

Lester bit his lip, “Well let’s tell them now! Darling you just turned 18 it’s fine! We’re happy and in love!” He clapped happily.

You furrowed your eyebrows still ducked behind the shield. Kayla was getting close now soon she will see you two. Lester knelt up to you.

“My love, my sweet sunshine it’s ok I promise. They won’t say anything and as far as I can tell they love you!”

Your lips trembled, “are you sure?”

He nodded and he held his hand out. You took it and brushed the dirt off your knees. You spotted Kayla and waved at her.

“He-hey Kayla!” You nervously smiled.

Her eyes darted when she saw Lester, “Hey dad! What are you doing here today.”

You fiddled with your thumbs nervously.

“Greetings amazing daughter, me and y/n actually have something to tell you and the others, where are they now?”

“Oh they’re getting ready for dinner! Come on! I was just looking for y/n since I hadn’t seen her.”

Your heart warmed. Maybe they will be ok with this. The three of you chatted and walked back to the cabins. Kayla seemed unknowing of you and Lester. His fingers brushed against yours as the three of you walked. You finally reached the cabin and your heart raced faster.

Will was chatting with Nico outside the cabin. Austin was running around looking for a piece for his saxophone.

Will spotted you 3 and his eyes beamed. “Dad! Hey!”

“We have news to tell you all, my magnificent children,” Lester grinned. You nodded trying to seem confident. You all gathered in the central living space of the cabin. All eyes were on you and him. Even Nico was there. He smirked and drew a heart with his fingers. You bit your tongue. Oh no.

“So we are gathered here today to say-“ Lester began.

“What that you and y/n are together and happily in love?” Austin cackled. You froze in place. You looked over at Apollo who seemed a little anxious.

“Cause if you’re going to say that, we already know,” Will finished looking at the others. Your mouth gaped slightly open. They didn’t seem angry or uncomfortable which was a good sign.

Kayla got up and swung her arm around your shoulders, “maybe next time if you wanna keep things secret don’t make out on top of the training hill.”

Your eyes widened and your face turned beet red. “I uh can explain that!” You stammered.

“Fine yes we are happy and in love! We wanted to tell you ourselves but it seems we are indeed bad at hiding it,” Lester blushed.

“I just didn’t know if you guys were gonna be ok with it, we’re friends and I adore everyone in the Apollo cabin, you’re good people,” You spoke, your eyes looking down.

Kayla still had her arms around you, “We discussed it and we’re all ok with it! Actually we’re estatic! We all love you y/n, it’s a little odd you’re around the same age as us. But we will get used to it!” She gave you a squeeze and went to sit back down.

Your heart felt warm. You started to tear up and you felt Lester’s fingers lace into yours.

“Told you honey,” he said softly.

Will got up and wiggled his finger at Apollo. “Now now that doesn’t mean we won’t hold our father accountable though. Don’t go hurting our precious Y/N!”

You giggled and side hugged Lester. “I promise on myself I won’t!” He Exclaimed.

You were so happy. You and Lester can be together publicly now and it made your heart skip a beat. He was your everything. The cabin seemed happy about it. Everything was perfect

Austin cleared his throat and everyone looked at him, “but do we have like start calling you step mom now?”

[bluemirrorangel]

Dps headcanons the poets and their type of academia aesthetic 

This is wayyyy longer than I intended it to be lol anyway I hope you enjoy these, leave a ship or fandom suggestions and I’ll do headcanons for them if you want :) 

Todd:darkest Academia

Loves gothic fiction and horror stories because he likes being nervous knowing that he's supposed to be.

Likes reading outside at night because it’s quiet 

Surprisingly nosey, not in a bad way he’s just really curious about stuff.

Likes dark/muted colours.

His favourite book is a picture of Dorian grey.

Weirdly into cryptids and other mysteries.

Was TERRIFIED of the Bermuda triangle as a kid.

Loves writing poetry but enjoys writing in general.

Semi popular writer on AO3 for classical literature, started because Keating told him to publicise  some of creative writing.

Runs his good reads account like the navy.

Charlie:chaotic academia

Regularly gets uniform carded for everything; shirt unbuttoned and untucked, tie loosened, he never has his blazer on and his jumper is perpetually tied around his waist. 

Has a mason jar type cup on his nightstand that is always full of a mixture of different energy drinks and fizzy drinks/soda’s, Cameron says it looks like paint water.

Banned from reading out loud in English class pre-Keating because he got a little too into the role of Jack in Lord of the Flies .

Point blank refuses to do P.E and is always ‘losing’ his kit.

Shockingly serious about music class, deeply respects the teacher and never misses a lesson.

Post stick notes EVERYWHERE

Writes his notes in highlighter and felt tips

Went through a phase of bringing a flask to school instead of a water bottle because he thought it looked cool.

Spark notes BIGGEST FAN.

A saxophone prodigy despite being unable to read sheet music.

Neil:light academia

Loves Shakespeare and the theatre in general

Good grades in every class but really shines when it comes to the arts

Eats his lunch in the English classroom with the other poets

Forges his fathers signature for school trips so much half his teachers have no idea what his dads handwriting actually looks like.

Hates biology because he’s scared of blood

Always says that Todd is his favourite author/poet.

Really good memory, able to learn lines at shocking speeds. 

Finds it difficult to multitask; has to have instrumental music playing otherwise he gets distracted.

Prefers plays over books.

Collects playbills.

Meeks:classic academia 

Loves typewriters, inherited one from his grandparents and uses it alllll the time.

has a polaroid camera and uses it to take either the best candid's or the  most diabolical mugs there's no in-between.

Owns a shocking amount of sweater vests.

Has a record collection.

Loves those retro 50’s themed diners/drive-ins, drags Pitts and the poets to those all the time.

Really into history

Owns an analogue radio.

Taught himself Latin one summer to impress Pitts, and is now fluent.

His entire wardrobe is vintage themed.

Favourite book is the Outsiders by S.E Hinton.

Knox:romantic academia

Writes love letters and poetry whenever he has a crush on someone, used to keep them under his bed but swiftly changed that hiding place after watching ‘to all the boys I've loved before.’ with his sister, they now live in a shoebox on his trophy/bookshelf.

Loves the romantics big fan of love poetry as a whole.

Has definitely tried to serenade someone before.

 Self taught guitarist.

Has only ever received on card on Valentines Day, it was from Charlie in year nine it’s one of Knox’s most prized possessions.

Loves Romeo and Juliet.

Thinks ‘say anything’ is the height of romance 

Subconsciously wants to be romanced for once instead of the other way round. 

 Has Pinterest boards dedicated to romantic quotes 

His favourite movie is the princess bride.

pitts:’nerdy’ Academia 

really into the roman empire 

Loves renaissance fairs and goes every year.

REALLY into dungeons and dragons.

Loves going to random museum exhibits.

Spent half his childhood hyper fixated on the Titanic, was super excited to watch the movie and completely heartbroken when he realised it was a fictional story and not a documentary.

Brilliant at chess.

Knows random historical facts.

Horrible at remembering faces but never forgets a name.

Loves mythology of all kinds.

Really good at architecture; his middle school used to have a architecture competition where  you had 2 minutes to make a house out of marshmallows and dry spaghetti the most stable one won, Pitts won every year.

Cameron:dark academia 

Keeps his notes/homework in colour coded folders and files

A proper perfectionist and  chronic overachiever.

Writes in pencil or fountain Pen.

the gifted kid who REFUSED to burn out.

Only gets attention at home when he’s doing well at school, so he throws himself into his studies.

Drinks more coffee than water

Can play the piano, was entered in a school concert and his whole family came. He was terrified of embarrassing or disappointing them so he overdid it and played so hard his fingers bled.

Has a copy of every graded test practice or otherwise in his room so he can go over them before his exams.

Hates English with a passion because it’s the one lesson where there are no rules.

Once spent an entire night going over his English notes before a test and was so overtired he fell asleep during the exam and failed it. None of the poets bring it up not even Charlie because that day was the first time he’d seen Cameron cry.

[thegoldencontracts]

OH DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON TSUMS IT IS POSSIBLE THAT I HAVE A HYPERFIXATION ON THEM

Tsums (based on the plushies) are filled with tiny balls so they make that noise when you pet or shake them

By tsum logic (the logic doesn't exist) it is certain that octotrio tsums have mer-forms! While flotsum and jadetsum are more easily visualized azutsum mer-form will still be side ways but have extra flaps on it's sides (based on Ursula's tsum) or just have it's half be a mass of tentacles (the only exception is that they needed to still be stackable so you really can go wild on their mer-forms)

Ever wondered "there's no way a tsum can do that!" think again! Tsums can bake, mix, draw, paint, play instruments etc! (again tsum logic does exist yet it doesn't)

They are most likely indestructible as tsums can multiply by sneezing so you truly couldn't harm them (alongside with them having a bouncy texture)

Hehe :3

Tsum tsums... How I love the little creatures... I want to squish them in my hands aggressively agghhhh

The tsum tsum merforms? In their little tanks? Imagine if they need to take little transformation potions just like the real octatrio.

Also, speaking of merforms, that reminds me— do you think tsum tsums have backstories matching their canon counterparts? That Azul Tsum was bullied for his tsum merform? Or even the idea of Azul Tsum and the other SSR Problematic Kids' tsums overblotting? What would a Tsum overblot form even look like?

Imagining tsum!Floyd playing the drums. Or the saxophone, actually, since he's good at that too. Floyd-tsum pulling out the sax and you think it's about to serenade you but it starts playing a sax cover of "Never Gonna Give You Up". Such cruelty... And then the real Floyd joins in? Betrayed by your one and only; how cruel!

Also tsum multiplication seems so funny because imagine, say, Azul stepping out of the room for a few minutes only to come back to a heap of tsums. The cast'll be struggling to deal with the new mass of tsums for sure.

[chaos-reprisal]

Little Study on The Heart Acoustic and how it contrasts The Mind Electric and the Soul Eclectic :3 (This turned into me being a band kid. I'm so sorry.)

Was listening to The Mind Electric variants and realized something. Compared to Mind and Soul, Heart's song is a lot tamer. (This is more about the music and less about the lyrics.) That's not to say it doesn't have it's moments of chaos or isn't a chaotic song, but compared to The Mind Electric and The Soul Eclectic, it's arguably calmer; the notes and chords (more so at the beginning and end) are held out longer, the pacing is slower, but it still has bursts of energy. Meanwhile Soul and Mind's songs are paced a lot faster: words are sung quicker and notes are held for shorter periods of time, the background music is all over the place, and there are more frequent punches of energy in the background vocals.

Smaller detail, but in The Heart Acoustic, you can hear Heart audibly take a deep breath and release it right before the chorus. It's almost like he's steeling himself for what's to come, or trying to calm himself down before he does something he regrets.

Heart, the emotional side, the creature that hardly resembles a man, has a song variant slower than Mind's or Soul's. Heart is the one to stop and breathe before he does or says something rash. And the style/pacing of his song reflects that. But not only is this song about Heart being more collected than the other two put together, this song is also about Heart giving up. About Heart letting Mind have what he wants: control over their vessel. And once Heart gives that control over, chaos ensues. Because as much as Mind may hate it, he needs Heart to help balance him.

(Bit more in depth talk about the instrumentals down here)

Heart has outbursts, sure, but Mind has explosions. The Mind Electric is nothing if not Mind saying "Fine, I'll do it myself, and I'll do it better than you." Mind's words are punctuated by what sounds like static and glitching as well as heavy hits on the drums and a heavy, robotic bass. In faster parts, the background music consists of a lot of quick arpeggios. Think of those arpeggios from Fate of the Stars, if you've listened to it.

By the time we get to The Soul Eclectic, Soul is desperate for the two to at least cooperate instead of fighting constantly. "Call me your host or call me insane, if that will help you stay in line." Moving on, the bass is pretty heavy on this song as well, as are the drum hits, which are sporadic, much like in The Mind Electric. When the background music is prevalent, for most of the song, it's pretty unison with the notes Soul is singing; but it's really, for lack of any better words, 8-bit sounding. The arpeggios in parts parallel to where they stand out in The Mind Electric are still there, but they're a lot fainter. Overall, Soul's song sounds the most dissonant, and I think that's because this song is essentially Soul panicking and looking for any way to get the attention of Heart and Mind, even if it means threatening the lives of all of them.

(I've now realized that the scratchy sound I'm probably hearing alongside the base is the electric guitar. Also like before you read below here I get a little off track with the instruments MY BADD)

In comparison to the other two, Heart's song is a lot brighter and harmonious. I want to point out that Heart's song utilizes saxophones (whether tenor or alto I can't tell, but I've played the beginning on alto and it's pretty high. My knowledge of tenor range is limited.), which is a lot lighter compared to the electric guitar and bass. Similar to the other two, there's arpeggios, but they're slower at the beginning and faster near the middle of the song. Played by some sort of percussion instrument (I'm hesitant to say it sounds kind of like a marimba?? The soft tones make me think so. But there might be another one, possibly a xylophone. And I think there's some sort of string instrument playing staccatos layered over it, but it's really hard to tell because they're unison. Each instrument is easier to pick apart at the very end of the song. And of course near the middle of the song he's playing the arpeggios on his keyboard. But at this point I'll get off topic beginning to name every instrument I can hear). TLDR; Overall, Heart's song is a lot less bass-heavy and has a brighter sound because of it. Despite having a brighter sound, though, the song is still overall dark due to chord progressions (I think please don't quote me on that I have basic knowledge of chord progressions as of right now). The song is slower paced than the other two, and while there is definitely bursts of energy, they are less frequent than they are in the other two.

In the end, all three of them have hit their lowest points by now. Also I got WAY too into the instrumentals my fault guys but uhh yeah. Didn't expect to dig into it that much :33333 Thank you for coming to my rambles!

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 19 - Music Monday: Careless Whisper – George Michael

i’m challenging myself to keep all these at either 127 or 1,270 words each, see day one for more of an explanation!

“‘S.H's SEX MEX’?” Steve’s head whips around, staring wide-eyed at the tape in Eddie’s hand. “What’s this, Harrington?”

“None of your business, that’s what.” Steve stalks back to Eddie’s desk, moving to snatch the tape from him.

Eddie pulls it out of reach. “Lemme guess, George Michael’s saxophone-y stylings are heavily featured.”

It's weird, he thinks, that a song about cheating is already starting to find it's way onto these exact types of tapes but, to each their own.

Plus: Steve goes pink. Bingo.

“No. Shut up.” He swipes for it again.

“Nah uh uh–OOF!” Eddie’s teasing is cut short when Steve fully tackles him to the ground.

He stares dumbly up at him, every bit of his body that’s pinned under Steve feels like it’s on fire.

Steve snatches the tape from his hand and sits up, straddling Eddie’s legs in triumph.

“HA! Take that, Muns—”

“OooOHhhh! The fallen King falls lower! Caught in the lap of the town freak!” Tommy Hagan’s dumb freckled face sneers from the doorway.

Steve twists around at the sound of Tommy’s voice (a move that doesn't help Eddie’s ‘cute boy in his lap’ problem in the slightest), turns back to give Eddie another panicked look, then bolts up and out the door, face red as a stoplight.

“Think you’re real cool for gettin’ Stevie in your freak flock, Munson?”

“Didn’t think you still cared about Stevie, Hagan.” Eddie says, standing and brushing himself off, “Looked to me like you dropped him the second you had a new piece of ass to follow around.” He’s been getting some vibes from both Hagan and Hargrove ever since the latter arrived in Hawkins.

Pink Dalmatian is… well, Eddie wouldn’t say it’s a good look for Tommy, but it’s... different. “Shut the fuck up, Munson!”

“Oh yeah? Or what, you’ll sick your beefy boyfriend on me?” Eddie shrugs, nonchalant, “Gotta warn you though, I might like it.” he grins.

Tommy goes pinker, then leaves too, steam streaming out his ears.

Eddie’s decided he hates this fuckin’ mall.

Jameson’s record shop down on Main is already pricing down their stock to compete with the Sam Goody that’s opened up a couple doors down from here, and they’ve been sellin' music since Wayne was a kid 100 years ago!

Stupid fuckin’ mall.

In the middle of vowing to never set foot in this brightly-lit hellscape after he’s finished with his sundae, who should walk in but Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington. In a sailor suit. Just walked into Scoops Ahoy. Blue shorts, tall socks, matching fuckin shoes. Jesus H. Christ.

And what’s worse? The moment Eddie had looked up, the moment Steve set foot across the threshold, what should start playing over the speakers but the cheesy saxophone intro to Careless Fuckin’ Whisper.

Steve walks behind the counter, waves goodbye to whoever it was that he’s taking over for, and grabs a bucket. 

Eddie, the only person in here at 2:15pm on a Wednesday, watches as he starts methodically wiping down all the tables.

He glances up at some point and gives Eddie a tight-lipped smile before getting back to it. 

It knocks Eddie out of his reverie and he goes back to his now-soupy sundae. 

He hears Steve shuffle away at some point, but he’s not about to be caught staring again. 

The thought of what Steve’s ass looks like in those shorts almost breaks him but he stays strong, swirling his spoon around in his melted cup of goo.

He’s about to cut his losses and try to sneak a peek when a voice pipes up from in front of him.

“Thought you might need some of these.” Steve says, holding out a short stack of napkins.

“Uh.. thanks?” Eddie says, taking them.

“No problem.” Then he’s gone. 

Why would he think Eddie needed—- oh Jesus fucking Christ.

Eddie’s got a glob of vanilla ice cream melting down the front of his shirt. 

“God fuckin’---” he scrubs at the spot futilely, the flimsy napkins disintegrating against the fabric. 

The sundae’s in the trash not long after, along with his pride.

After spring break from hell, after the bats, the hospital, the NDAs, managing to come out the other side with not one but, what, 11? more friends, he and Steve are teetering on the edge of something.

Chrissy and Robin had gotten very close in the immediate aftermath of the former’s ill-fated trip to the Munson abode, bonding at first over Blondie, then over movies, then milkshakes, and kisses and– you get the idea.

He and Steve had somehow ended up on a weird duplicate of the same path. There was bonding over Dio of all things, over Star Wars, then over the ‘Ring Lord’ books as Steve liked to call them; now all that’s left to do is the date stuff if they’re gonna follow in their platonic soulmates’ footsteps.

And no matter what he’s seen happen in this stupid fuckin’ town, that’s not something he can even fathom happening.

Until.

“Hey Eds, what’re you doing on Friday night?”

Eddie shrugs, still half-focused on the miniature he’s painting for Will. “You’re lookin’ at it, Steve-o.” another touch of purple there… “Why?”

“Wanna come over? We can pick up take out from Enzo’s and watch a movie..?”

Why’s he sound so weird? Sounds like any one of their other hangouts, except the Enzo’s, that’s new. He looks up at Steve, a weird angle since he’s on the floor in front of the coffee table and Steve’s still on the couch. “Sure, sounds fun, but why Enzo’s?”

Steve’s cheeks look brighter, “I dunno, I’ve been craving fettuccine, we can get pizza if you want…?”

“Nah man, just get me some garlic bread and I’m good.” Eddie grins, going back to his work. Steve seems to relax further into the couch.

Until.

Eddie knocks on Steve’s door at 6pm on Friday evening. He scratches a spot on his arm under his jacket sleeve, wonders again why Wayne insisted Eddie not wear his favorite holey jeans and cut-off Black Sabbath tee.

Steve opens the door, “Hey! Eddie..”

“Hey Steve, you look nice.” he’s wearing a button-down shirt, odd. “What’s with the shirt?”

He looks down at himself, “Oh, just what I had left in my closet. C’mon in man..”

They’re halfway through their pasta when it hits him.

Like snapping out of a daydream, Eddie looks around.

Candles, nice shirt, pasta, wine that Steve apologized for because he “Ran out of beer, sorry.”...

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god!”

“What?!”

Eddie looks up from his plate to Steve’s face. There’s a bit of sauce on his lip. “This is a date.” he breathes.

Steve’s expression shifts from confusion to embarrassment. He puts his fork down. “Um.. Yeah. It is, that okay?”

He jerks up out of his seat and all but runs around the end of the table to pull Steve out of his. 

“Look, I’m sor—” he’s cut off by Eddie’s lips on his.

“You.” another kiss. “You took me on a date.” another. “What the fuck, Steve.”

Steve’s grinning brightly now, “Yeah, I did.”

Eddie kisses him again. “I can’t believe my uncle knew before me.”

After, when they’re lying sticky and satisfied in Steve’s bed, Eddie remembers something. “I can’t believe you sexed me up without your ‘SEX MEX’.” he laughs.

Steve does too, reaching over Eddie to push a button on his stereo. 

Those damn saxophones are at it again, crooning at them both. 

“I didn’t want to accidentally ruin the mood,” Steve admits.

Eddie laughs, “Consider the mood reignited, big boy.”

uhhh this one turned out more fun/fluffy than angsty... i'm pretty sure the only angst in it is the teasing at the beginning...... but i think i needed it after all the other angst i've been writing/reading this month.. so consider this some levity!!

see the collection on ao3!

[peppermintpillz]

Punch Out Wii boxers if they were in band

Glass Joe- French horn 

I had to make the obvious French joke with the French man. Also in my personal experience, French horn players were always the weakest in terms of playability so it’s fitting for glass joe

Von Kaiser- trumpet 

I know trumpet players are usually associated with having big egos, but I think people tend to forget trumpets are very well-respected instruments, especially in the army. Since Kaiser is a veteran, it would make sense he probably played the trumpet

Disco Kid- tenor sax

Disco Kid is a very jazzy guy, so obviously he’d play one of the jazziest instruments. He’s not an alto because I feel like altos are usually more prissy, meanwhile tenor saxes can still jam but they get along with everyone

King Hippo- drums

This one is based on the fact King Hippo always bangs on his stomach, kinda like a drum. Plus he’s really huge, so I feel like playing the drums would be easiest for him, as he would have an easy grip on the mallets

Piston Hondo- xylophone

I put him on xylophone mainly for the xylophone sound effects that play right before his Hondo Rush. Plus he kinda has a whole “speed” thing going on (the Hondo Rush is a bunch of fast punches, also he runs faster than a bullet train) and normally you need to play the xylophone very fast to keep up with tempo

Bear Hugger- bassoon

All the bassoon players I’ve met were jolly and kind, and bear hugger is one of the friendliest boxers in the WVBA. Plus they’re kinda similar in way? Bassoons are usually seen as a “bass line instrument” and usually forgotten, but in a lot of pieces there’s usually a bassoon solo where it’s actually more important than it seems; which I feel is also how Bear Hugger is treated (dude was in the arcade PO, SPO, and punch out Wii I feel like he should get more recognition than he gets)

Great Tiger- bari sax

Bari saxes seem to have this sense of “knowing they’re better than everyone else because they’re skilled”. Great Tiger seems to have a bit of an ego similar to that, and so I feel like bari fits him the most. He would be a skilled player, but he would def rub it in 

Don Flamenco- alto sax

Alto saxes are probably the most romantic instrument there is, and Don Flamenco is the most romantic boxers out of everyone. Plus, alto saxes all seem to have this flamboyance about them

Aran Ryan- flute/ piccolo 

In his theme, the flute is very present, it practically carries the melody. I think Aran would be one of those guys that takes playing the flute and piccolo with pride, and would try to break the standard that only girls play those instruments.

Soda Popinski- tuba

Kinda like bassoons, tuba players are always so whimsical and chill. From what I’ve seen, Soda Popinski is usually depicted as a big scary Russian man, but to me it seems like he’s really kind-hearted, and only gets angry due to the fact he’s being drugged with all those sodas. I think Sodas wouldn’t mind he would normally just play the bass line, he’s just happy to be playing music 

Bald Bull- oboe

There seems to be a running trend of big aggressive men playing dainty little instruments. It’s similar reasoning as Aran Ryan, Bald Bull’s theme seems to have an oboe carrying the melody, so ofc he’s on oboe. Plus I think Bald Bull does have the ability to be calm and composed, and I think playing the oboe (an instrument that super expensive and requires careful usage) would calm him.

Super Macho Man- trombone

Imo trombones players are the ones with the biggest ego (also the most annoying). SMM probably would just be ok on the trombone, but he will definitely start blasting as soon as he got the melody in a piece and would never learn to shut up. 

Mr. Sandman- clarinet

Philadelphia has a history of very rich and jazzy music, and I feel like Sandman is the guy to play the clarinet over the saxophone. The clarinet is also a pretty important instrument to jazz music, and jazz is a pretty important part of black culture. Mr. Sandman is one of the less stereotypical boxers so he’s less connected to his Philadelphian culture, and I think playing clarinet is his way of getting more connected. 

Little Mac- contra bass

This one is like Aran and Bald Bull, except the opposite. Since little Mac is shortest of the bunch, I think it’d be funny that he happens to play one of the biggest instruments that’s requires him to stand. Not only is it comical but also kinda fits with the whole underdog theme, despite his size he still manages to play the contra 

Doc Louis- conductor 

I put Doc as the conductor since conductors are usually just band members that retired, and got promoted to teaching band members. Since doc teaches little Mac to box, he would probably teach others how to play an instrument 

[esmedelacroix]

24 days til' Christmas

going dancing with boyfriend!choi san on christmas eve⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

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

One of the downsides of dating a K-pop idol was that there was no privacy whatsoever. Which would result in yet another Christmas Eve at home, probably watching movies. Any moment spent with San was happy, but it was Christmas for Christ's sake!

What must a girl do to go on a simple date with her famous boyfriend? you thought to yourself.

You were making some shrimp jjigae (Korean stew) for San. San was arriving at the Incheon Airport that evening after the last leg of his tour. You were excited he would be home right in time for the holidays. It was still upsetting that the two of you couldn't go on a date on Christmas Eve like you usually did.

He had gained a ton of popularity after his comeback, the two of you were spotted at an Italian restaurant and it was all over the internet after 30 minutes. In just 10 minutes the whole internet knew what the two of you were eating, drinking, and wearing.

San's company didn't have rules against dating, but the two of you decided not to be obnoxiously public about your relationship. He talked about you in interviews and attended red carpets with you occasionally but that was all the two of you were comfortable with.

On your way to the airport, San's song came on the radio. You had your sister take a video of the two of you singing along to his song so she could send it to him.

San and the guys would be arriving at a private gate. Hopefully this time the fans didn't find out somehow. You waited there anxiously for him, looking around for any fangirls in the area every two seconds. Finally, you say your handsome boyfriend steps out immediately looking around for you. You were already running towards him and the second you entered his view, he abandoned his suitcase and ran to you spreading his arms out to you.

The scene was right out of a cheesy film. Hongjoong practically died from cringe but deep down he was so happy that his Sannie had someone he loved to come home to. Wooyoung being Wooyoung was videotaping the entire moment.

"Yeobo[Sweetheart], I've missed you so much," San said as he held you tight.

"I've missed you more," you sighed as you looked up into his eyes running your fingers through his hair.

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

Because no lovey-dovey moment lasts forever, the two of you heard the clicks of cameras along with the footsteps and screams of an atiny stampede.

San quickly took your hand and ran through the airport with the boys and their bodyguards following you behind. The two of you couldn't contain the giggles from the adrenaline rush running from fans like you were elementary school kids playing tag at recess.

Once you got away, you went to dinner with the guys and listened to their tales from tours. Including lots of pranks from Jongho and Mingi, and lots of scolding for San and Wooyoung from Hongjoong.

After dinner, you gave the boys their Christmas gifts since you would be with San in his hometown that day. You told them to open their gifts when they were at the dorm knowing that you would be awaiting a particular text from Seonghwa about how thankful he is that you got your hand on the "Ahsoka Tano's T-6 Jedi Shuttle" Lego Star Wars set.

San would be sleeping over your place before the two of you went to his hometown. After the two of you finished watching the newest episode of Single's Inferno, you thought it would be worth a shot to ask San what he would think about going to a Live Jazz club with you for Christmas Eve.

To the inquiry, as expected he answered "I don't think so," which was his nicer way of saying, "No we're going to get caught.

Even when you told him that your sister would be playing saxophone there and that you wanted to support her and the two of you could watch from backstage he was still very hesitant.

You knew that there would be a slim chance that San would agree with you, and you noticed a glint of guilt in his eyes when he said no to you.

To San, you were his kryptonite, he was physically unable to say no. to you without wanting to gauge his heart out of his chest. You went to bed with a bit of a heavy heart after overthinking in the shower and realizing that your relationship with San would never be normal.

. . .

The morning was perfect. San had made you breakfast in bed without burning down the entire kitchen. San was a great cook, but he was also a very messy one at that.

That afternoon the two of you wrapped up gifts for San’s family and baked gingerbread cookies while cozying up together and sipping hot chocolate and eggnog. It was perfect, festive, and domestic. But San knew that you were still thinking about the Jazz club occasionally texting your sister throughout the day to ease her nerves.

"Jagiya[baby], we are going to have to go somewhere really quickly," San started as he entered the living room putting your cost on.

"But San, it's a little late. I promised my sis I'd watch the live stream of her performance," you answered.

"I know and I'm sorry but there is an emergency formal meeting at the company and I don't want to leave you home alone, I know how much you like to get ready anyway," he explained walking over to you, ushering you to get up.

You gave him an irritated glare before springing up and squealing, "You know me too well babe,"

You got up and gave him. smooch on the cheek. You didn't care if it was a formal meeting. San could see how bored you were of watching the same holiday hallmark movies. He also knew how much you loved to dress up.

You did your makeup and wore a red cocktail dress, accessorizing it with a jewelry set you had removed from your brother who was completing his military service. You put on your favorite heels, give yourself a bold bloody red lip, and throw on your favorite trench coat.

San gawks at you for what feels like minutes before checking back into reality and getting up. "You look stunning darling," he said as he pulled you into his side by your waist and kissed you on your cheek.

San had already heated the car and opened the door for you before walking over to his side and getting in. He passed you the aux and you immediately started playing your favorite holiday tunes.

As San drove he began to take unfamiliar turns. He was oddly driving away from the direction of his company. You found this strange but shook it off as nothing.

The two of you sang along to Christmas tunes before he finally pulled into a parking spot. There stood the live jazz club that your sister was performing at. The two of you were right on time. San quickly got out of the car to open the door for you, taking your hand and helping you out of the car. "San what is this?" you chuckled in surprise.

"You know I can't say no to you baby," he replied, taking your hand and leading you into the club where the two of you had great seats. No one could see the two of you since the event seating was arranged in booths and the club was dimly lit.

Everything was perfect and quite discreet. You don't know how hard he had pulled this off. But you knew he had the help of your sister. You could tell she had been lying to you about something lately; you just didn't know what.

It was amazing, the two of you enjoyed music and a great meal. Sis was playing excellently as always until your favorite Christmas song was playing, "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" Other couples had been dancing all night.

San could tell that you wanted to dance to this song with him. You were practically swaying in your seat. He was afraid of the press ruining your date but he simply did not care in the moment when he stood up and held his hand out for you to take.

You looked up at him cracking the brightest smile he had ever seen grace your lips. The two of you swayed slowly to the music. You could feel stares whisper and some flashes but you didn't care. You were too focused on each other.

You were too focused on the feeling of love and excitement enveloping the two of you as you spun. There were already articles and posts up but when the two of you got home you were too infatuated with each other to glance at your phones. The two of you slept peacefully that night as Santa dropped your gifts off and feasted on the milk and cookies you had left out for him.

taglist: @aripet22

[sagesbard]

Mouthwashing marching band AU cuz I miss marching season from hs 😞😞

This is entirely self indulgent. But I felt like posting something to hold y'all over while I work on my next one shot. I left links for the stand tunes under their head canons :) I highly recommend listening to them <3

Daisuke 🌺

Either tenor saxophone or alto saxophone.

Doubled on trombone.

Can't march for the life of him but he likes the stand tunes so he stays :)

He cries every year at band camp.

He probably bought flavored reeds for shits and giggles but he ran out of regular reeds one time so he was stuck playing with a Baja blast flavored reed.

His favorite stand tune is either pretty fly for a white guy or SOS

100% is one of the loudest screamers for stand tunes.

By the time break rolls around for band he inhales his food so he doesn't have to share it.

Always pre orders because he forgot once and wasn't able to eat at all until he got home from the game.

Laughed every time someone said dinkles.

Probably learned megalovania or careless whisper for shits and giggles.

SOS

Pretty fly for a white guy:

Curly 🎉

Drumline more specifically snare, I can't explain it but I just get percussion vibes from him.

Section leader but was probably one of the fun ones.

He broke his drums one time and had to sit out while the director tried to fix it.

His favorite stand tune is either do watcha wanna or cold hearted.

Probably learned the ⬛🟧 thing and managed to sneak it into a performance or two.

Did jazz band because he had an extra elective spot.

He absolutely HATED the marching uniforms.

One of the kids that screamed "get sweaty" and "get swole" during band camp exercising.

Do watcha wanna:

Cold hearted:

Anya 🌟

Flute and clarinet.

She chose them because she thought they were pretty.

She also wanted a bigger locker.

She prefers concert season to marching just because the songs are slower and more calm.

Second loudest screamer in the stands.

Her favorite stand tune is Mortal Kombat or land of 1000 dances.

One of the better marchers in the band.

Likes the design of the marching uniforms.

Mortal Kombat:

Land of 1000 dances:

Swansea 🪓

He was probably the director.

Overworked and underpaid.

He would probably yell a lot but in a loving way.

"its doo DAH not doo DIT"

Absolutely HATED when people were out of tune and did nothing about it.

Favorite stand tune was either hey baby or sweet Caroline.

Hey baby :

Sweet Caroline:

Jimthew 😒

Played trumpet or baritone.

One of the assholes that took it up the octave but cracked every time.

He stole everyone's fruit during fruit break.

Actually one of the best backwards marchers, only beat out by Anya.

Absolutely DESPISES the metronome during practice. He thinks he's above it.

Did jazz along with Curly.

His gloves kept getting holes in them because he'd use his mouth to take them off.

Favorite stand tune is either talking out the side of your neck or all of the lights.

Talking out the side of your neck:

All of the lights:

[cranberrymoons]

lovers that bless the dark

prompt: fall (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rating: t word count: 734 tags: meet-cute, love at first sight, fluff, and one very cute dog 🍂🥰 title from "autumn in new york" by billie holiday because i am cliché

It happens on a Saturday afternoon in the park, when the air is crisp and the sun is golden and the leaves are swirling on the path underfoot. There’s a saxophone playing in the background and there are kids running through the field to their left, and in front of the fountain, Steve Harrington is meeting the love of his life.

It happens all at once, without anything to tell him it’s happening. Just – a dog breaking free from a leash and a frazzled owner chasing after it and paws crashing into his chest and nearly knocking him back into the cold water from where he sits perched on the stone ledge.

He catches himself with a hand braced on the dog’s back, fingers pushing into shaggy black fur, and he looks up when he hears a shout.

“Sorry!” the man is yelling as he hurries over. He looks exactly like his dog: long dark hair, big brown eyes, slightly flustered and very uncoordinated. “Shit, sorry, he doesn’t normally do that.”

“What, tackle people?” Steve asks, because – honestly.

“Yeah,” the guy says. He laughs, a little awkward, a little apologetic. He reclips the dog’s leash and tugs him out of Steve’s lap. “Or – you know, run away in general.”

Steve looks up from where he’s brushing loose hair and pieces of dried leaves off his jeans. 

“This is Ban,” the man says belatedly, nodding at the dog. “He’s also very sorry.”

Steve frowns a little as he reaches down to scratch the top of the dog’s head, and the dog lurches forward eagerly, nose pressing into his knee.

“Hi, Van. You’re forgiven.”

“With a B,” the man says. “Ban. It’s short for Bananarama.”

“You –” Steve laughs, squinting up at the man through the flare of afternoon sunlight. “You named your dog Bananarama? Do you have a cat named George Michael?”

“John Mellencamp, actually,” he says. “I call him Mel.”

And Steve can’t actually tell if the guy’s joking or not, but he’s smiling, big and wide and endearing, and Steve feels something take flight in his chest, warm and soft and comforting as a mug of hot cider. 

(This is the falling in love at first sight part, and looking back on it, he’ll know; in the moment, he knows nothing other than wanting to be closer and closer and closer to that feeling.)

“I’m Steve,” he says, and then he dips his head down to pretend he was directing it at the dog. “It’s nice to meet you, Bananarama.”

The man makes a small noise of mock outrage and tugs on Ban’s leash. “I can’t believe you just full-named my dog.”

“Well, he is technically in trouble,” Steve says. He scratches Ban under the chin. “For the jumping and the running away and the almost knocking me into dirty fountain water.”

He watches the guy’s face twitch, eyebrows skating up toward his hairline as he lets out a little laugh, which Steve returns. He realizes belatedly that he’s been smiling through this entire interaction, enough that his face hurts with it a little, and he rakes his teeth over his bottom lip. 

“The fountain is clean, actually,” the man says. “We just did a community clean-up day last weekend, so.”

“Oh, well in that case,” Steve says. He tucks the book he’d been reading back into his bag. “I guess I have nothing to complain about. Who wouldn’t want to be knocked into a clean fountain when it’s fifty degrees out.”

“Exactly,” the man says. Then, as if he’s only just remembered – “I’m Eddie. By the way.”

(And this moment, the one where he reaches down to help Steve up, and Steve’s hand slides into his for the first time: this will enter their relationship lore, along with the dog and the book and the fountain and the park itself. It will become one of those things they tell their kids fifteen years from now – he grabbed my hand, and I just knew, just like that . And he does know, sort of: he knows that Eddie’s fingers are calloused, and that makes him curious; he knows that his skin is warm, and that makes him linger; he knows that they fit together, and that makes him want to hold on.)

“Hi, Eddie.” He smiles, pulling his bag onto his shoulder. “Want to buy me a coffee?”

[also on ao3]

[luminouslywriting]

The Snow Stork (since several of you asked about the car and being snowed in haha)

Summary: In which a snowstorm leaves John Brady and his wife stranded in a snowbank and things get a little heated. Warnings apply and remember kiddos, I don't write full smut haha! Written in headcanon style! Feel free to keep sending me asks or requests! I'm having so much fun :) Also shoutout to @precious-little-scoundrel since she inspired some of the bones for this! 🥰🫡

-A Christmas Eve party for the adults only in the Brady Family was an annual thing. It was the best party of the year and consisted of all of the good adult fun that the children couldn't participate in—spiked eggnog, some spicy stories, dancing and kissing under the mistletoe, and a couples' gift exchange.

-Every year since John Brady first fell in love with you, you've dutifully gone. And in the last four years, your parents have lovingly volunteered to watch the three musketeers that are the Brady Bunch—a darling little girl known as Anna, a precocious three year old known as little John, and a sweet little two year old known as Michael.

-Three children in four years has kept you and John Brady BUSY with caring for the house, him working, and managing the little cookie monsters that just wanna hear their dad blast the saxophone (but really, who could blame them?)

-It's a rare thing when you two get the chance to go away together, even for a few hours. Fortunately for you two, you've mastered the art of quickies and learning how to be discreet with very nosy children in the house (who you of course adore).

-So it's after this party where John's hands have been lingering a little too long at the hem of your dress, maybe you've had a *little* too much of the eggnog, and maybe you're both feeling like giddy teenagers again (although you're really not that old haha) and the hour drive home seems to not be long enough.

-Maybe it's the way that the snow is falling just heavy enough and the windshield wipers can't keep up

-Maybe it's the way that there is certainly ice on the roads (though you've both seen and driven through worse)

-Maybe it's the way that you're still humming Sinatra under your breath and he finds that SEXY as HELL

-But John Brady, ever the practical and timely man that he is, he keeps glancing down at his watch and wondering how bad it would be to just pull off to the side of the road?

-After all, you haven't been gone that long and it's entirely possible that the roads could get worse

-And you're his most precious cargo so he needs to take care of you in every way 😌

-But he's glancing over at you every few minutes, right hand still entwined with your left hand

-And he knows that people have done much crazier things to get alone time with their wives

-So of course, he makes a suggestion about the roads being too bad to drive through at the moment and maybe you should pull off to the side of the road

-He's flown through worse and you both know it

-But neither one of you is complaining when he quickly places the car in park, just off the side of the road and near a stretch of trees

-After all, he can barely see the road. But you know what he can see? You

-So of course, he's taking the opportunity to sweetly kiss your hand and tell you that he's missed having alone time with you

-And then you're shivering (for more than one reason)

-That's the only invitation he needs

-After all, John Brady takes marriage more seriously than the damn war. If you're cold, that is his God-given responsibility and privilege to fix and help you with.

"Body heat is better than layers."

-So of course the next thing you know, he's ducking over into the passenger side of the car

-And for the first time in a LONG time, there's no kids to interrupt, no meal that's burning downstairs, no one calling you on the phone, and not a single work-call or piece of homework for him to grade

-The car has been lovingly christened the Brady-Maker since the conception of your first child but you're about to put that entire encounter to shame

-Lingering kisses and warm breaths, hands squeezing and massaging at flesh to keep the other warm, fingers slipping below waistlines and dresses, tights and garters are RIPPED, obscene gasps and moans are spilling from the car—and the car might be shaking a *little* too much from the flipping positions and fun that you two are having

-So it's really unfortunate that in the middle of your second orgasm of the night, neither one of you notices the fact that a bunch of snow has just fallen from the trees above and literally lands on the car. Not just once. Not just twice. But several times.

-When he's removing his belt and attempting to position himself right in the dark, it's at this unfortunate cock-block of a moment that he realizes that the snow has indeed solidly built up around the car.

-So try as the two of you might (and you certainly try), the car is well and good stuck and there's just no way to get out of the car or to even attempt to get to anywhere with a phone until the snow has let up or morning has arrived.

-It's very fortunate at this point that you were already so proficient and skilled at conserving body heat by doing some *ahem* active martial activities

-Because what else are you supposed to do? Sit there and cuddle? Nah, that's not for you or for him

-Of course, your parents are wildly panicking—because you two were supposed to be home HOURS ago

-But you know what? Neither John Brady or you is about to miss the chance to have some alone time, because who KNOWS when that could happen again? And for a whole night? It's really just science and common sense at this point and it's a real sacrifice that he's making by making love to you in that car.

-When you two finally show up, hours later in the mid-morning, the next day—your hair still messy and makeup certainly ruined (and missing tights and garters on top of it all), and he looks like he's just had the best night of his life—

-Is it really any wonder that this is how Brady Child #4 came into existence?