The Bad Batch has the most realistic romantic plot because when a gorgeous, independent woman was presented with several equally handsome men, she chooses the smartass.
nanami laid you down gently on the mattress, his familiar scent crowded you almost immediately as you buried half your face deeper into his pillows, filling your nose with a propinquity that felt like home.
nanami stood close by the bed, gazing at you in a state of unreadiness. his usual slicked back hair was now down and unruly, navy shirt fit him snugly making his arm looked extra delicious, loose pants hanging on his torso. it had been a little late when you called him drunkenly to pick you up, he knew you were on a night out with shoko.
“ugh, it’s so hot,” you mumbled, reaching out to grab the hem of his shirt; nanami played along with a quiet smile on his face, moving a step closer just so your hand could reach. you pulled, beckoning him to sit on the side of the bed, he obliged easily, brushing away the hair that’s sticking on your face. “it’s warm, take off your shirt,” you blinked at him, as he chuckled softly.
“why should i take off my clothes when you’re the one feeling warm, hm?” he asked with a soothing voice, stroking your hair over and over.
“global warming, and stuff,” you rambled, giving up in putting sense on your sentence. nanami looked at you with wonder, curious to hear what amusing things will come out of your mouth next.
“i wonder what’s going on inside this head right now,” he said, rubbing his thumb gently at the side of your forehead. you sighed deeply, enjoying his touch.
“i want a kiss,” you claimed suddenly, proving his point. nanami shot a defeated smile, his eyed narrowed in adoration as he caved, planting a short kiss on your lips; his hair tickling your skin as he leaned down. nanami pulled away before you could savor the feel of his mouth thoroughly.
“more.”
he kissed you once more.
“more.” you whined softly, not liking how he ended each kiss so fast.
the only respond you received was a soft brush of his finger on your bottom lip as he said, “that’s all you’re getting tonight love.”
nanami saw your dramatic expression change, frowning as though it’s the end of the world. a hearty laugh escaped him at your theatric, rubbing your cheek with the back of his index finger, his touch felt feather light against your side, “you’re terribly drunk, the only thing you need to be doing right now is sleep.”
“not drunk,” you mumbled, even though sleep sounded amazing in your ear right now as you felt your eyelids getting heavier by the second, nanami’s ever so softly touch didn’t help you in staying awake at all.
“if you say so,” he replied easily, getting up from his spot without words, leaving you alone in bed. you flashed an exaggerated pout as if the man could still see you, not knowing he’s already returned to the same spot within a minute with a familiar looking bottle on his right hand.
“i don’t wanna drink anymore,” you murmured, giving him a pleading look. nanami chuckled.
“i’m not making you drink this, silly girl,” he claimed gently, pouring three drops of the liquid content to a cotton pad you’re just now seeing, before wiping away your face tenderly like you’re made of glass.
right. that’s your bottle of make up remover. “oh.”
the soft dab of the cotton on your face over and over made you sleepier, the consistent rhythm of rubbing and tapping nanami was working wonders, almost like a magician in soothing you. but the focused expression on his face as he leaned close to you held you back from going into the dream land.
“you’re so handsome,” you whispered, staring the man like he hung the moon.
“am i? thank you love,” he replied without missing a beat and at this point you knew this man would always respond patiently to whatever nonsense you were cooking in your mind even though it's easier to ignore what you're saying while you’re under the influence, instead he was spoiling you rotten.
“what about me? am i pretty?” you asked, eyes half-lidded.
“the prettiest.” he smiled tenderly, stopping just to give you a smitten look before going back to work, the soft wipes of cotton underneath your eyes knocked you right into a daze, deciding to just close your eyes because it was too mush work to keep them opened
“ken?”
“yes love?”
"d’you think cats are sad they don’t get to blow candles on their birthday?” you asked in a serious tone, half your body felt like it’s being pulled into slumber, nanami’s laugh sounded like as though it’s underwater.
“maybe, but they’re going to be even more sad if you don’t go to bed now,” he said, the last thing you heard was the sound of an object being put on the bedside table and the feeling of your hair being brushed gently. nanami saw it happened as your breath slowed, head limping to the side.
he kissed your head softly, adjusting the blanket and tucked you all proper.
dating nanami was still new. new enough that you still got butterflies whenever he reached for your hand. new enough that every kiss made you feel unreal.
new enough that you were standing by his front door at eleven thirty at night, wondering whether it was too soon to ask if he wanted you to stay.
so you didn't.
"i should probably get going" you say instead.
nanami looked up from where he had been cleaning the dishes from earlier dinner. "already?" he says quickly, sounding.. disappointed?
you both froze. you weren't exactly expecting that.
"i mean," he clears his throat. "it's late."
"it is." you say, frowning.
and as if he could read your thoughts, he asks.
"do you.. wanna stay the night? i don't want you to go."
he sounded vulnerable, unlike him. while you were all up in your mind, he had walked over to you. "hm?" he hums, his hand reaching for your cheek.
you were getting so red, his words alone made you so giddy, and his touch? oh god.
you finally let out a breath and smile, like you were hoping he says that for weeks. "yes, okay. i'll stay."
he smiles, tucking your hair behind your ear. "thank you, love." he leans down and kisses you. it's slow. gentle. the kind of kiss that makes your chest ache in the best way possible.
divider cr pixopix. im sorry im still bad at writing stuff but ughh i tryyy. also thank u sosososos much for 35 followers i gen love you all
there’s just something about you seeing you on top of him that turns his insides into a syrupy mess, knees weak. maybe it’s because kento nanami is a man who strives on order and control, and you’ve found a way to slither your way through his system.
it’s probably because when you murmur his name in that honeyed voice of yours, he knows he’s a total goner.
“mm, my beautiful wife,” he rumbles, hands smoothing over your waist, eyes lidded as he watches your hips rise and fall in that slow, tantalizing rhythm that drives him mad. “doing such a good job, sweetheart.”
all you can manage is a series of little moans in return, too caught up in how his cock feels inside you, so perfectly nudged in your walls, filling you just right. how his tip bumps against that gooey spot that makes you clench around him tighter, or how he groans your name with a low, rough sound.
there’s your tits, too — nanami’s always been rather partial to them — that he loves to capture between his lips, biting down gently on the stiffened peaks. he loves how you squeal his name, mouth curving into a cute little smile, and he loves how you manage to look so adorable and utterly debauched at the same time.
if his lips aren’t on you he’s cupping your chest with such devoted reverence, so softly. the contrast from how he pistons his cock into you, sharp and quick, makes your mind blank.
nanami’s favourite part of it all, perhaps, is that he can look up at your pretty face when you finish. he loves seeing your features twist in pleasure, your kiss-swollen lips part, brows furrowing just slightly. your eyes rolling back as you climax, gushing a mess around his cock, hands digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave little crescents.
and after he’s made you cum at least four times (he’s a man, after all), you droop down onto his chest, burying your face in his neck, clinging onto his biceps. he coos your name gently, strokes your hair, and smiles to himself when you whine about being too sore to walk tomorrow.
Strange racists and homophobes on the internet seem to have access to an alternate way cooler version of TV than me. "every white character on TV is in an interracial relationship" "every show has a gay couple in it" "main characters keep having to secretly be bisexual and nonbinary" "every show has gratuitous full frontal nudity" like damn promise?? What channel???
for real though, those DO NOT WATCH OR YOU'LL CORRUPT YOUR CHILDREN lists put out by conservative christian family groups is where I find all the stellar tv shows. Like, shit I didn't know half of those existed, thanks for finding them for me, gonna go watch 30 hours of gay tv now!
For personal context, before I went to the '98 Burning Man festival, one of the things I'd read from a couple different journalists was that "everybody" runs around naked. Which, fine by me, I'd already spent a lot of time in clothing-optional spaces, I'm not fanatic about it but it's nice.
So I got there early and set up a public shade structure on one of Black Rock City's main roads and spent most of each afternoon just watching the crowds go by. I don't remember seeing more than one actually naked person the whole week. I think a topless woman passed by my intersection maybe every half an hour, sometimes once an hour. So why in the hell were people, normally pretty smart and observant writers, coming away with the impression that everybody was naked?
Then I remembered an unrelated passage from Joel Garreau's great book about the history of the outer-ring suburbs, Edge City. Mall developers told him flat-out that they tried to keep the crowds in their malls less than 5% black. Not because they themselves were racist, but because they had determined, experimentally, that if more than 5% of the people in the mall are black, the median white shopper will wrongly describe the mall as at least half black, as mostly black. And not a few of them would describe it, at 6% black, as a mall where "only black people go." Why?
Because, emotionally, they were still upset over the last one when the next one came into view.
Same as the journalists describing Black Rock City as all naked. Same as the right-wing religious culture warriors describing television as entirely mixed-race and gender non-conforming. Not because it's even vaguely true, we know that, but because they haven't gotten over their discomfort over the last one by the time the next one comes along. The anger, not the stimulus, is the part that's continuous, so their mind lies to them that it's "all" the thing they can't get over.
Similar effect for the presence/proportion of women in things, by the way: https://health.howstuffworks.com/mental-health/human-nature/perception/how-17-equals-496-the-amazing-multiplying-women.htm
The solution is societal change, not giving into this shit wherever you have any say, and knowing how the effect works so you can push back against it most effectively. And that's frankly been effective, though we could be doing much better.
Also thank you @infamousbrad, for the framing of bigots still being pissed off by the next time they get pissed off. That's really helpful for understanding exactly how the mindset works.
so i started rewatching the bad batch a few months ago, and rn i'm about halfway through season 2. I just finished the clone conspiracy arc, which in case u haven't seen the show in a while, is the two-episode arc when riyo chuchi testifies against admiral rampart and exposes him for destroying the cloning facilities on kamino. there's two things that have come to mind immediately after watching these eps, altho really i've been having these thoughts since i started my rewatch of season 2. these episodes just brought that train of thought back around for me lol. and since i don't have anyone to talk to about it, i'm just gonna ramble on here >:)
first things first, let's talk about echo. i fell out of love with star wars for a little over a year and only got back into it at the beginning of this year. that being said, i honestly forgot why i always used to say echo was my favorite clone, but now i'm starting to remember after watching his character evolve through the first season and a half of the show. one moment from this story arc that i specifically wanna talk about is when he and the batch meet up with riyo and rex to discuss everything that's unfolded on coruscant. the assasin clone, slip's death, riyo's plan to put together a testimony and expose rampart to the senate, etc etc. and when rex and riyo show the batch the assasin clone's body and inform them that he is responsible for killing slip, who was riyo's only witness on kamino, echo immediately steps in and offers to testify instead. like without zero hesitation. and although it gets shut down by hunter and rex, who point out that the senate probably wouldn't believe a bunch of deserter clones that are responsible for blowing up SEVERAL imperial operations across the galaxy, it's the fact that echo stepped up and offered to help in whatever way he could, without giving it a second thought. and THATS the arc trooper i wanna see more of. (lowk feel like the bad batch writers forgot he was one...at least that's how it seems from where i'm standing). he has always cared so deeply about his brothers since his first apperance in the rishi moon episode and has been wanting to do more for the other clones since the beginning of the show. while hunter and the others are completely fine with looking out for themselves and keeping omega safe from the imperials, echo sees the bigger picture. he and the batch actually butt heads a lot in season 1, more so than i remember from my initial watch when the show was released. and to me, it seems like echo is lowkey miserable with them. he's willing to do the selfless thing and put his life on the line to save his fellow clones from a fate he can't well imagine. meanwhile, the rest of the batch, while they are willing to help, have always had some kind of disdain for regular clones (hence the whole "regs" nickname and their beef w jesse, rex, and kix in clone wars) and it seems like helping the others aren't really a top priority for them, nor will it ever be. i also get the vibe that they hold echo being a reg against him. sure, he's gone through a lot of shit that changed him physically, and as tech says in the first episode of the series, "you are more machine than man, percentage-wise, at least," they still never fully accept echo as one of their own. he wasn't apart of the original bad batch squad, and it seems like they never let him forget it. when the batch leave without him, they're not even torn up about it. they pretty much say "see u on the flip side don't die lmao" and walk off without looking back. except omega, of course, but that's because she's always known echo as a bad batcher. she never knew him from before, when he was an arc trooper in the 501st, and one of the best, at that. other than his desire to help the rest of the regs leave the empire, i think this lack of a brotherly bond between him and the batch is one of the main reasons he ultimately decided to join up with rex again. granted, he tells omega earlier in the episode that he joined the batch because "that's where he was needed," but i honestly feel like his place was always with rex. i think the only reason the showrunners put him with the batch in the first place was so he wouldn't be around for the siege of mandalore and the venator crash during order 66, which is fair enough. but i do think he was always going to end back up with rex, and it was just a matter of time before he reunited with his old captain.
AND ON THAT NOTE, let's talk more about rex's clone rebellion and the potential behind that. if they don't make a show or mini series that's entirely focused on rex's little resistance group, i'm actually gonna tweak out. these two episodes i've been talking about is EXACTLY the kind of stuff i wanna see in more star wars projects. high stakes, lots of good action, arcs that actually move the plot forward instead of giving us random ass episodes that build character development but don't connect to the larger story in any way whatsoever, is exactly what a show like the bad batch needed. i remember a lot of people complaining about the "filler" episodes when it was releasing a few years ago, and while i really hate using that word and think those episodes did serve a purpose in developing our relationship to the characters as an audience, i do lowk agree that they kinda took up a lot of space and time that could've been spent moving the story forward. when the bad batch show was first announced, i remember disney and star wars really played it up and marketed it as the show that explains what happened to the clones post-order 66, how the GAR transitioned into the imperial army, how the batch and other notable clones played a role in it, so on and so forth. and while the show did kind of address that...i feel like they really edged us with rex's operation and gave us absolutely nothing. and there's been no indication from lucasfilm or disney that they're going to pick it back up in a future project. 😐 WHICH PISSES ME OFF CUS THERE'S STILL SO MUCH MATERIAL TO WORK WITH !!! if they thought they ran out of stories to explore, they are sorely mistaken. for example, by season 3, rex has teamed up with a whole group of clones. howzer, gregor, and a few others whose names i honestly don't remember rn lmfao. but by the time we meet up with rex again in rebels, it's just him, wolffe, and gregor on selos. so what happened? where did all the other clones he was working with go?? did they die??? did something tragic happen that forced rex, wolffe, and gregor into exile??? or did they just go on to live seperate, domestic lives???? i still wanna see what that would look like for those clones, even if it doesn't have a lot of action. i mean, we don't even see how wolffe defects from the empire and teams up with rex. they do have an interaction in season 3, but when he allows rex and the batch to escape, he's still loyal to the empire. so what changed??? and don't even get me started on cody bro. he's still awol, and we've had zero hints as to what happened to him after he left the empire. you could do a whole fucking mini series on his story post-order 66 alone but nooooo god forbid lucasfilm wraps up any loose ends and gives the clones a satisfying ending to their story.
okok i think that's just about everything i wanted to say. did this take me an hour to write? yes. was it worth my time?? absolutely 🙂↕️ if u read this far ur a real one. i'll have more thoughts on bad batch as i continue my rewatch, so i'll be back with more of my bullshit SOOOON. ok thanks love ya so bad
i've just rewatched the outpost and, my god, it's so incredibly painful how long it takes crosshair to realise that mayday wants to know his name. the silence after mayday says his own speaks volumes. i loathe thinking about how long crosshair had to live through without anyone calling him by his name, only ever referring to him as ct-9904.
mayday was the first to treat him like a human being in months. he was the first one to see him, after months of being completely alone. it also makes me incredibly soft and sad how, when mayday drags the heater towards crosshair, he literally gives him light.
currently highly amused by the thought of grown up Omega doing something incredibly messy and/or chaotic and her perfect "what? I was raised by my five brothers" excuse
can we get some nsfw drunk hook up head cannons with the clones pleassssseeee!!!
gn! reader
warnings: explicit content
description/tags: hook ups
a/n: YES GIMME MORE FREAKYY GUYS and yes… i did add slick, i’ve been rewatching the clone wars for the umpteenth time and forgot that i liked him lmao
FOX doesn’t hook up often, or at all. but he goes to bars for a drink with some of his corrie brothers, and he didn’t realise how stressed out he was—because not long after, he was absolutely wasted. also it doesn’t help that the first person he locks his eyes onto is so fucking attractive, and in a matter of minutes you’re both in a random closet in the building.
“hngh, fuck! unh, shiiit—just like that, yeah…” his face is buried in your throat, his noises are pouring out unashamedly. his pelvis is hitting against you, and his eyes are glossed over. “you feel so ffff…fucking good…”
WOLFFE is leaning against his chair, watching his brothers drink themselves to abandon. he snorts and looks away, pretending he wasn’t doing the same. his eyes shift over the small crowd, and a certain person makes his eye glint, putting his glass down, he excuses himself and walks up to you.
and after that, his hand is on the back of your head, and his other hand is holding your thigh, curling it under you as he pounds into you. he’s growling and snarling, before sinking his teeth into your nape. “mfff! shit—keep squeezin’ me like that and i’m gonna come so fuckin’ hard.”
CODY came for one drink, a single drink, until he was joined by some brothers and he started to have more. because, he wasn’t alone and he had company. he went over to the bar to order some more drinks, and he turned his head to observe everything. it was you who started flirting with him first.
and now he was on his back, lying on some dirty tiles, with his hands on your hips. soft moans and grunts slipped through his lips as he guides your riding movements. “deeper, mngh—deeper, i know you can get me in deeper. c’mon, yeahhh, shit, there we go…”
BLY doesn’t make drinking a habit, but tonight felt different, the liquid burning his throat was too good not to leave. he didn’t have anybody with him either. before he could order another drink, he had a random one slide in front of him. he smiled and thanked you, and you both started talking.
his talking later on, turned into long whines as his hand gripped your head, his head tilted back against a brick wall and sweat beading down his forehead. he was in an alleyway, letting your mouth go downtown on his cock. “mngh, hm, mnn, nng—shiiit… you’re doin’ so good,” he whimpers as drool slips down his chin.
MAYDAY drinks whenever he gets the chance to, he enjoys the alcohol burning his throat. he’s usually keeping his thoughts to himself, maybe on occasion, he’ll speak to people. he goes to put his glass on the bar and the person next to him catches his eye. you introduce yourself and he greets you back.
and now you’re both in his quarters, blanket and pillows sprawled onto the floor. his nose and forehead his squashed against yours, his hand gripping your ass as his thrusts into you. “feels food, unh, you feel so good. can keep goin’ all fuckin’ night.”
REX is at the table with some of the torrent company, he’s drinking cautiously, because he knows someone is going to be stupid. but once they all start going and he’s left on his own, he’ll just lean in his chair and drink the leftovers of his brothers—considering, he paid for them. a new glass of drink is given to him, he thanks you quietly and you both get to know each other.
he’s lips are on yours, making out with you sloppily as he pushes you softly into the communal refresher of his base. his hands are on your thighs and he lifts you up against the wall. his hand holds your nape and he’s driving into you. “shiiit! that’s—mmph!—good.” he’s panting against your lips as he keeps his eyes locked with yours.
GREGOR always finds himself drinking after a mission, usually just to chill out from the chaos. he doesn’t mind sitting alone, he’ll sit there and keep drinking until he fancies going back to base. he stands up and returns his glass to the bar, he notices you alone and walks up to you, you seemed like quite a friendly face, so he greets you and you both talk.
he’s now got you against a wall, his hand gripping your thigh and his face buried in your shoulder. he whines into your skin as he fucks you against the bricks. “fuuck… got me feelin’ so good, baby… hnn.”
HOWZER is usually dragged by his brothers to go drinking, they claim it’s a celebratory drink, but he knows that they’re just using that as an excuse to get drunk. so, he tries to stay as sober as he can, so they can’t get into trouble. he’ll indulge more once he knows they’ve gone back safely. he leaves the table and walks to the door, he notices you and holds the door open with a smile. you introduce yourself and he does the same thing back.
who knew a simple door holding could lead to him on the floor, hand gripping your ass and his hips bucking up desperately. “nnhh, you’re doin’ so—mnn—well!” his head is thrown back, and he feels saliva slip down his lips.
HUNTER drinks a lot, but he’s quite a heavyweight, which is good for him, because he can drink however the hell he wants. if it’s a pretty bad day, he’ll drink himself until he’s wasted without actually realising. he walks to the door but stumbles slightly, having you catch him. he chuckles and thanks you, which starts up a conversation.
he makes sure the marauder is empty, and he’ll keep it that way until he’s done. he’s sat on the seat in the cockpit with you on his lap, his hand is on your nape and he’s letting you ride him hard. he groans loudly, and muffled whimpers escape him as his tongue drags up your neck, tasting the sweat that was beading on you. “yeah… keep goin’, just like that.”
WRECKER likes to drink and have fun, he’s even more energetic once he’s had a few, and is yapping on about things that don’t even make sense. he goes to random strangers and starts a conversation with him, and the only one who engages is you—which makes him very happy.
and now he’s hoisted you up back at the empty marauder, he’s fucking you urgently and earnestly, making certain things creak. he’s hands are gripping your ass and his forehead is against yours. “hmngh! mmh—sorry, i’m probably goin’ too hard, mnn, can’t help it… you’re so good, you’re amazin’. hngh, doin’ so well.”
TECH only drinks if crosshair calls him a coward or other words, which then annoys him, and he needs to prove him wrong. so, in the end, he accidentally gets himself drunk, and it’s not even the first time it’s happened. he goes up to get another drink, whilst tripping over his own feet, and you catch him. he turns around embarrassed and thanks you under his breath.
and other talking for a while and getting to know each other for a couple hours, his back is against the metal of his bunk and his hands are cupping your neck, your lips are moving against his hungrily. his hips subtly rock against your thigh, soft sighs and grunts vibrate against your lips. “hm, i’ve got to say, i’m not used to—nhh, just doing this with anyone. but… hah, i might be able to get used to this. keep—! keep going, please?”
CROSSHAIR doesn’t get drunk, he doesn’t, that’s what he tells everybody. he isn’t a light weight, and he’ll prove that to anybody, his feet don’t tremble when he’s walking over to the bar to grab another drink. and his eyes definitely don’t linger over to you, drinking alone next to him, and greeting him. he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “you must be really lonely to start speaking to me.”
well, he must be lonely too, because he’s got you roughed up against the nav-console. his teeth nibbling on your earlobe as gruff groans spill into your hearing. his hips aren’t fast, but they’re deep and firm, his hands have your thighs positioned where he can bury himself into you. “mn, mmh… hm. keep fuckin’ still or i’ll stop.” (he won’t)
ECHO used to get drunk often, back with fives, and now, he likes to do it for nostalgia. he’ll sit with the others and drink as he watches them banter and argue. he laughs quietly and rolls his eyes, he excuses himself and goes to the bar to order another drink. he stares down at the wood and your voice makes him jolt out of whatever sudden mindset he was in and smiles. you ask if he’s okay and he nods, he thanks you and introduces himself, and vice versa.
his lips are on yours and he settles in your lap, he doesn’t quite have the courage to go naked with a stranger because of his mechanics, but that’s a self-conscious thing. his lips trail down your neck and nips softly at your skin, he rocks with you and tilts his head back. “oh… mnn… keep goin’, this feels really good.”
FIVES is the biggest heavyweight in the 501st, just after hardcase. he’s drinking and drinking, but enjoying himself, he leaves the table and flirts with anybody he sees. it’s when he flirts with you, and you flirt back. it gets heated and crude.
and now he’s in a toilet cubicle with you, his hands gripping your lower back as he’s driving erratically into you. his lips are pressed against your nape, drooling on your skin. “oh, you feel so fucking good, shit—oh, fuck! don’t think i’ve ever had anybody feel this good, hngh, ngh—yeah, that’s it, clench around me, fucking harder—like that…” he’s the biggest fucking talker ever.
JESSE likes to think of himself as reasonable, others’ think otherwise. so what if he’s doing stupid challenges with fives and that ends up with him being more drunk than he’d like at the end of the night? he’s having fun. and shit, if he didn’t think locking his eyes with you, at the edge of the room in the middle of it all, made it feel like fate.
because later on, you’re lying down, and he’s on top of you, mouth on your groin, whilst yours on his. his thighs tighten around your neck and he moans pathetically against your skin. his nails dug into your legs. “fu-uhh-ck! need you to keep goin’, i’m so fucking—hnn, gonna come ‘til i black out cause of that fuckin’ mouth.”
HARDCASE is already drunk by the first hour he’s there, yes, he is a heavyweight, but he’s already drank more drinks than anybody else. he’s giggly and loud and is walking around to greet every one in the place. then he meets you, and he’s getting more giddy, he’s already revealed every single aspect of himself.
including the fact that he was rubbing his clothed dick against your clothed crotch. his eyes were wide and watery, his mouth wide open as he let unabashed whines and whimpers tore through his throat. his pace is fast and sloppy, “fuck! feel fuckin’ amazing… ungg… gonna make me cream my blacks.”
KIX doesn’t get drunk, the only time he does, is when his shift has gone wrong, or he doesn’t have a shift for a day or so. and when he does, he wants to be on his own, maybe jesse’ll come with him, but that’s it. someone goes to sit by him and he shakes his head, about to ask them to go away, but then he looks up—you weren’t what he was expecting and he let you sit down.
that conversation had turned to him on his knees, hands on your hips, and him pleasuring you. “mff… mmh… nn.” he moans against you, his nails digging into your skin, he pulls away with a pant, “you taste good, shit…” he whispers and delves back in.
DOGMA is not a drinker, well, he tells himself that. fives and hardcase are egging him on to have one drink that isn’t lemonade. he finally listens and it’s not as bad as he thought, he didn’t say anything so he let them buy him his drinks… free drinks, he supposes? also, nobody knew he was going to be such a lightweight either, but it shouldn’t be a surprise. he bumps into you, and he’s mesmerised by how you look.
not long later, he finds himself riding your thigh, his hands on your chest as his head is thrown back. he didn’t even think he’d ever hook up in his entire life. but with someone so understanding and accepting, he’s having the fucking time of his life. “ngh, oh mm, yessss…” his fingernails are dragging down your chest, his legs are squeezed against your leg and his pace is increasing. “sogoodsogoodsogood, fuck! shit… ghh…” he even finds himself shouting curses.
TUP doesn’t drink on his own, he’ll only have some if he’s with his brothers. especially, if he’s getting encouraged to have some by certain people (fives and hardcase), he’ll definitely get to drinking if he sees dogma out of all of them drink. it hypes him up and he starts getting multiple—he’s a lightweight, of course. and he starts to befriend everyone. then he meets you, and boy does he get to talking.
but that talking turns into long groans and loud sobs as his face is buried in your shoulder. his hands are hold yours tightly and his pelvis is moving at a desperate rate. “mmh! hnn, nhh… you feel so good. so good, so good, so good. please… just lemme keep goin’, hnn!”
SLICK goes out of his way to go drinking on his own. he needs the alone time, and it’s refreshing. he won’t drink himself until he’s blacked out, but he will drink until he feels himself becoming less sober. he’ll just sit at the table and observe everything. he raises an eyebrow when you come to sit next to him, offering him a drink. he thanks you hesitantly and when you both get to talking, you seemed like somebody he could trust.
now he was pressing your face against the floor, his hand gripping your hip as his nose slid down your upper back and traced against your spine, inhaling your scent sharply. “smell so good, mfff… stay just like that for me, yeah…”
wrecker and crosshair are definitely the “drama duo” of the bad batch. all of them are crazy motherfuckers who do insane shit, but those two are referred to even by their own brothers as “all the drama”.
wrecker because he’s boisterous and has big reactions to everything. when he’s excited, he’s super excited and is going to share his excitement with everyone. when he’s sad about something, it’s big crocodile tears. when he’s appalled, he makes sure everyone in the room knows about it.
crosshair because he is so bitchy about even the slightest inconvenience. his coffee was knocked over? someone has it out for him and did it on purpose. he tripped on a mission? it’s now the worst day ever and he’s making it everyone’s problem.
when the two of them have dramatic moments together the other brothers joke the world must be about to end
