fem!kon

As sick as me - (2)

A/N: Okay….so…hehe…the notes on the first one went through the motherfckn ROOF and i thought, since some of you beautiful beautiful ladies n gentlemen out there asked me for it:
Have a part two

Summary: You are a leader of a group, dealing with Negan. But basically having a character like him, you two tend to get along just fine. While you’re group is kind of scared and uncertain about the man and the whole deal, you secretively love his visits - and he makes sure he is there every time the saviors come along. You are his ‘highlight of the week’, as he puts it.

- This time it get’s a little more cozy. And steamy. And then cozy again. Basically explaining your and Negan’s very ‘out of the ordinary’ relationship.


Pairing: Negan x reader

Warnings: Explicit language, typical Negan, sexual

The woman lazily looked to her right as she heard ruffling behind the fence. Possibly just yet another stray walker. To guard the wall at night was one of the most boring jobs one could get. She yawned, not bothering to move her hand up to her mouth, as she continued reading her book. The Queen had pretty much a library in one of her rooms, which was open to everyone who treated the books well.
“Pssst.” A Knock at the iron bars.
 In disbelief, the girl lowered her book and turned her head ever so slowly and wide-eyed to look at the fence.
“…He…Hello?” she asked, her voice breaking.
“Hey, doll. Let me in,” the voice from the other side whispered again.
She continued to stare: “Who…is there?”
“Just open the God damn door - you sure as hell know exactly who I am now open. up.”
The man hissed, speaking fast, and she shuddered a little before hesitantly standing up and opening the door.
She glanced at her surroundings, checking if anyone saw her, before pulling the heavy iron bars aside.

There he stood, the infamous bat over his shoulder.
“Don’t let me wait this long ever again, you hear me?” he asked, his brow raised.
“Negan…Sir.” the girl stuttered. He was one hell of a man towering above her as she had to lift her gaze to look at him.
He grinned. That was the Queen’s work.

It was the first time he’d visited your place after you had first met - back then, he wandered into your place, feeling pretty much at home already.
The infamous Queen stood in front of him and you casually chatted. Back then, you weren’t that flirty, not after what had happened a few nights earlier.
But without any sign, you interrupted him in the middle of a sentence.
He twitched slightly as your hand grabbed his belt in a matter of seconds, pulling him closer with more force than he’d expected.
You basically threw him aside and he stumbled a few steps before hearing a harsh, metallic sound.
He’d let go of Lucille by now and she lay next to his feet as he stared at the scene in front of him with an angry glare.
A woman had been rushing up to him from behind, an iron rod in her hand, the end of which you now held in your hand.
The maniac was the widow of the guy Negan had killed a few nights before; her blond hair was ruffled and her eyes red from crying.
“Ho-ly shit…” Negan muttered, straightening himself to full height again.
Before saying anything more, he watched you.
Your face was absolutely untouched. Not angry not sad, slightly pissed but still calm. A cold killer in action and he was in love with it.
He grinned at the other woman, who still tried to push the iron deeper into your already bleeding hand.
“Did you…did you just try to hit me with that?” he chuckled, asking the crazy blond girl, gesturing at the rusty rod.
“YOU FUCKING KILLED SA-” she started yelling like crazy before your knee hit her stomach, causing her to inhale sharply. You pushed her backwards.
The iron fell to the ground and you walked towards her.
She stared at you, mouth opened, about to complain as you swung back and kicked her right in the face.
Her head flew back, blood splattering the stony ground.
“Damn!” Negan hissed, not knowing whether to laugh or not.
You turned around, sighing, “I am So, so sorry, excuse me for a second, Sir.” You smiled sweetly, like a waitress telling him he’d have to wait two more minutes for his milkshake.
Without another warning, you knelt down above the woman on the ground, grabbing her collar, forcing her to look at you.
A few people around had started to stop in their tracks to look at you, but didn’t dare to come closer.
“You know the Fucking rules, Mary…” You nodded slightly, your eyes wide as you stared her down.
“He Killled, Samuel, he-”
She was soon stopped as your fist collided with her face, throwing her head to her side as she cried out in pain.
She tried to twist away, turning onto her hands and knees beneath you, attempting to crawl away.
Gracefully, you jumped up, wiggling slightly, looking at the sky, biting your lip.
Negan watched you interested, a small smirk on his lips.
”Damn…” he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.
You stared at Mary a little disappointed. “Not even tryin’ to fight me, baby doll?” you asked, a small chuckle hidden in your words.
You threw Negan a look over your shoulder, holding your finger up. “Just one more second, Mister,” you nearly whispered, before you swayed around again, delivering a few more vicious hits and kicks to her guts.
Negan watched, not quite sure whether to be entertained or impressed.
You finished your small beat up when you grabbed her by her shirt, basically throwing her in front of his feet, her forehead hitting the ground.
She was crying, panic-struck now.
“So, Baby.” you called, walking up to the girl until you crouched next to her, lifting her head by her hair to meet his gaze.
You yourself looked a little ruffled up now, in the best way possible, as Negan saw it, basically licking his lips as he stared at you.
“What do we say?” you continued, smiling at the girl, then at Negan.
Mary clenched her jaw, shaking her head before starting to weep again.
“You want a round two?” you asked, turning her head to look at you.
She stared you down before shaking her head violently and throwing him an angry glare.
“Sorry…” she whimpered.
“Excuse me?” you asked, tilting your head, “What was that?”
“Sorry…Negan.” she repeated, louder now, staring at him.
"I..I didn’t quite catch that…” you hissed again.

"I AM SORRY, Negan.” Mary cried.

Negan still gazed at you. Never had anyone done something like this before.You’d just thrown yourself in front of him, punishing without him asking for it.

And damn, did he enjoy how you looked while doing it.

How messy your hair was, and how red your lips, and how your damn eyes glistened, and those delicious sweet little blood splatters on your hands made him smirk.

You straightened, “It’s Negan,
Sir. FOR ALL OF YOU.” You suddenly yelled, jumping up and turning around to make sure everyone heard you, “PAY RESPECT AND ADD A GOD DAMN FUCKING SIR TO HIS NAME OR I’LL KICK YOUR ASSES UP YOUR STOMACHS.”
You suddenly rushed down again, grabbing Mary at her chin. “We’ll talk later. Now, Fuck off,” you hissed, teeth gritted.
The girl stumbled to her feet, staring angrily at both of you before limping off.  Both you and Negan watched after her.

Your hands rested on your hips as you sighed and started to chuckle.
He turned his gaze back at you.
You were about to get some blood off your face as you smiled brightly.
“Ahhh…little problem child, she is. But Momma’s taking good care of her. Girl needs a strong hand….” You laughed again, “I…uhm…This wasn’t exactly about you. You’re a person of respect now. If I want them to respect me, I have to make sure they respect you, too.”
That sweet sound actually made him smile, a smile that soon faded as you crouched down directly in front of him, your face barely inches away from his crotch.

"You’re a fucking beast, woman,” he muttered, watching you closely.

You huffed, a smile on your lips.

You looked directly in his eyes as you gracefully rose in front of him again, walking even closer, your chest ever so slightly brushing against his.

His gaze drifted from your face down your body, his lips slightly parted.

“Here,” you nearly whispered, your hand suddenly touching his as you pushed Lucille against his wrist.

“She fell down.” You finished your sentence.

“Oops,” he grinned, his eyes not leaving yours.

A fascinating woman.


”Where is she?” Negan asked, leaning smugly against the fence.
“Don’t know…” the woman mumbled, looking away from him. It was more than obvious that she was feeling anxious.
"Marrrry…” Negan purred, getting closer to her, a smirk on his face.
The woman squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep calm.
”Her room..”
”What?” he asked again, even closer now.
"The Queen is in her room, Sir. She said no one’s allowed to get in, she-”
”Thanks!” Negan went past her, grinning slightly as he gave her back a light, friendly tap.

Negan was in love with the queen’s place. You’d made yourself comfortable in the penthouse of the hotel, a god damn suite.
He was in love with your huge bed, your silk bed linen on it, the lovely balcony, and even the god damn antique furniture.
What he definitely wasn’t in love with though, were the hundreds of steps leading up to it - no wonder you were in that amazing shape.
Negan leaned against the railing, sighing softly as he looked up the last few steps.
”It’s worth it…” he grumbled as he pushed himself off, swung Lucille back over his shoulder, and continued jogging up.

Her door was closed - nothing unusual.
What was unusual though, was the guy in front of it. About 7 feet tall and not looking friendly, he stared down at the strange visitor.
”Hiiiii.” Negan joked, tilting his head, “Uhm…Let me in.” he gestured at the door, using Lucille.
”You’re…Negan, right? The one from the Saviors…Sir.” the man spoke up, the last word kind of muffled.
”Clev-er boy. Now let. Me. In.”
“I’m not exactly allowed to let anyone in..” the man answered, standing tall again.
Negan clenched his jaw.
“Listen up, boy, I-”
“I’m more afraid of her,” the man interrupted him, “than of you. You can squeeze ma brain with that bat ‘fyours, I don’t care. But she won’t be so nice if I don’t listn.’” He gestured to the door behind him, his thumb pointing at it over his shoulder.
Negan blinked a few times.
“Y/N!” he suddenly yelled.
“Negan?” your lovely voice answered from behind the door.
His eyes didn’t leave those of the man in front of her door.
“May I get in?” he asked, gentleman-ish.
“Sure, get in.”

Negan stared the man down, tilting his head again.
“You heard her. Get off, or I’ll fucking get you off,” he hissed.
The man sighed and stepped aside.
“Why the fuck, do you have a guard in front of your door darli-”
Negan stopped his sentence and simply stared at you as soon as he’d entered the room.
You sat on one of the chairs, legs lazily spread and body leaned forward, as another woman cared for a bloody gash on your shoulder.
“Evenin’ Honeybee,” you smiled at him, a little weak. “Now that’s an unexpected pleasure seeing you here.”
You held a bottle of vodka in your soft hands. He’d never seen you with your hair up, but he loved it. Even though Negan would never admit it, you reminded him a lot of Lucille in her best days like this. Just more…you.

Negan just stared at you for a while.
The girl behind you had stopped patching you up and knelt next to your chair. Another girl, who had been spread across your bed, had meanwhile softly climbed up, about to kneel as well, as you told both of them to leave the room.
They did as you said, their heads low as they rushed past the man, closing the door behind them with a soft thud.
You stared at the bottle in your hands for a while before turning your gaze to him again.
“What happened.”
Negan had asked this, but it sounded awfully much like an order.

You huffed, shaking your head before leaning back and taking a sip of the bottle.
You wore tight black pants and a loose white blouse which was completely unbuttoned so the girl from before was able to take care of your wound.
“Somebody challenged me. Did I tell you about the rules already, Negan?” you asked, fiercely standing up to his gaze.
“Nooo you didn’t.” He walked up to you, crouching in front of you.
Your lip was bruised and your hands bloody.
“Whenever someone feels like questioning my ways…he’s free to challenge me. That’s the main rule I put up. It’s our way of democracy. Thing is…bitch used a knife. That’s not allowed.” You tilted your head, leaning forward again to be closer to him.
You could feel his muscles tensing, his jaw clenching again, before he softly trailed your lip with his finger.
“Where is the piece of shit?” he hissed so silently you barely heard him.
“Dead,” you answered, calming him. “Anyone who draws a knife on me soon has said knife in their throat,” you muttered.

He chuckled at that.
“That’s my girl…although…I’d like you shut that damn fucking rule off.” He stood up, walking up behind you.
You just stared forward, not following him with your gaze.
“That deal between you and me? It’s between you,” he leaned forward and you could feel his hand on your shoulders and his jaw brushing against your throat as he whispered in your ear, “and me. I won’t except anyone else but you on top. I don’t care if they defeated you in a fucking fight or not.”
You only chuckled darkly, your hand brushing up his head to get a grip on his hair.
“Oh I bet you like me being on top, don’t you?” you whispered.
“Don’t tease me, girl.” He sounded hoarse now, “I am serious here. I make your rules, not you.”
“Well I don’t exactly care.” You swung up now, landing softly on your feet before turning, walking up to him.

“Well you fucking should, doll,” he grumbled, watching you closely.
You walked so close that your bodies nearly touched.
“My bad,” you whispered again, staring him straight in his hungry, dark eyes.

In a matter of seconds he spun you around, pushing you hard against a wall.
He didn’t leave you any moment to react as he pinned your hands above your head, pressing his body against yours.
His eyes still rested on yours as you stared each other down.
“You..” he started growling, again whispering in you ear. You could feel his beard against your cheek and you could smell him.
Blood, rust and cedar wood, you would guess - if you had to.
“Should learn who is in control here, darling,” he continued.
You tried to shift but couldn’t move at all. He had completely pinned you up against the wall and you could feel every inch of his body on yours.
There was no way that you would get out of that situation by strength alone, so you changed your strategy.
You stopped working against him and softened up, pushing yourself onto, instead of away from him.
You could see both confusion and interest in his eyes.
Your gaze softened too, playfully wandering to his lips.
A moan escaped you as your lips parted, and you wriggled your wrist slightly.
You could feel him tense.
Your eyes met his again and as you leaned closer to him, a small, soft “Negan…” hovering against his skin.
That was it.
He was done for.
His hands let go of your wrist, gliding down your body as he leaned down to hover over you lips.

You stopped him in his tracks, grabbing his collar and pushed him back with all force. He stumbled back into your couch, basically growling in displeasure and jerked a little as you were in front of him again.
With your hands on his lap, you leaned over him, your faces only inches apart.
“Oh…I know full well who is in control,” you whispered, hissing slightly.
He could feel your hot breath, your grip on him, and your gaze on his eyes.
Negan was barely able to control himself and you knew that. You could feel and see in his eyes just how much he wanted to grab you and pull you onto him right now, tearing the clothes off your body.
“Careful now. You better be fucking careful, majesty,” he growled so convincingly that you nearly forgot how aroused he actually was.
“Because if you are not, I am going to get really, really rough with you,” he continued, leaning closer.
“Oh is that so? Stop the bickering. We both know you couldn’t keep me down. You’re too soft for that,” you whispered.
“Soft? Are you fucking kidding princess? I think I have to pound some respect into yo-”

Negan was stopped in his tracks.
Somehow shocked, he dropped his behavior as you suddenly crawled up on his lap.
You eased onto him, relaxing against his warm, tight body, your cheek pressed against his throat, your hand touching his while your other rested on his chest.
“Stop it, Negan,” you mumbled, still sounding like scolding him.
You could hear his heart hammering in his chest. Seemingly, you were more to him than just another girl he wanted to fuck.
“What the fuck?” he whispered.
“I don’t want to fight. Not today. Is that alright?” you whispered, your hand drawing small circles on his chest.
“You’re jumping from sick BDSM fetish to lovely vanilla in a fucking second,” he chuckled, and it made you smile.
“I’m full of surprises.”
“I guess you are.” His hand started to caress the back of your head, gliding through your soft hair.
You could feel the bulge in his pants between your legs but decided not to mention it just now.

You stayed like that for a while, before you gracefully rolled off him, leaving him whimpering softly, looking after you.
You sat next to him on your couch now, grabbing the bottle of vodka again.
“What?” you asked, smiling at him.
“Come back.”, he ordered softly, tapping his lap and you chuckled.
“I didn’t think the great Negan would be into cuddling.”
“Normally? No. But I’m into you I guess,” he said hoarsely, leaning closer to you, licking his lips.
You smiled smugly at him, your hand brushing against his cheek, gliding up to his hair again.
“Well…you are not In me just now, are you?” you corrected him.
He played surprised, “Oh hell…you’re right…let’s change that.”
With that he pushed you backwards, positioning himself above you, before your hand on his chest stopped him, pushing him up again.
“Uh uh, Negan,” you smirked as he threw you a disappointed look.

“Why are you playing with my feelings like that,” he groaned, taking the bottle from you before taking a long swig.
You watched him, delighted, still smirking and leaning back against his side.
He casually lay an arm around you, as he passed the bottle.
It was your turn to drink and so you did.
“Because it pleasures me so much. And because I ain’t got no heart,” you chuckled.
He smiled at you.
“Neither do I and still you do things to me.” His smile seemed different now. Honest even.
“You have no idea what kind of things I could do to you,” you spoke. Sounding both intimate and dangerous - it made him shiver.
His gaze left you and he took the bottle from you, placing it on the ground.

He seemed to concentrate for a while, staring at the nothingness in front of him.
You didn’t say a word. Just watched him.
It made you absolutely satisfied that you had him under control like that.
“Come with me,” he suddenly urged, looking straight at you.
A smile settled on your lips, which turned into a toothy grin as you looked down, shaking your head every so softly.
“Keep dreaming,” you snickered.
“Come on.” He shifted in his seat, turning to you.
“No.”
“Just…you’d be-”
“What? A Queen? Already am.”
“You’d be my queen. People would bow in front of us.”
“No, Negan. I’d be one of your queens.” You tapped his nose with your index finger, smiling at him.
“WRONG. Do you think my people bow to my wives? Do you think I sit and cuddle with them?!? Do you think, I’d go for a one hour drive, ALONE, just to see them for the night?!” he hissed now, straightening up and glared at you.
You shuffled into your seat, smiling teasingly.
“You also come for the drinks. And because there is no one else, who you can talk to like you can with me,” you whispered softly.

He groaned, leaning back once again.
You stood up, walking through the room, leaving him alone on your couch.
“You’re a tease, woman,” he barked and you laughed.
“I’m your tease,” you claimed.
You returned with a bottle of rum, presenting it to him.
He nodded and you sat down in the armchair next to the couch, leaning back and crossing your legs.
His eyes didn’t leave you for a single second.
“I want you,” he bragged.
“And I want that rum,” you mumbled, opening the fancy bottle.
“What are we doin’ tonight?” he asked, watching your fingers fumbling with the glass.

This wasn’t exactly the first time Negan had paid you a visit in the middle of the night. It had started soon after the flirting began.
The first time he’d shown up, he had a clear goal in mind, but was quite surprised by the outcome.
Instead of fucking you senseless like he’d planned, he was lured into..talking. For hours actually. After all these years you had been the first person he could just lean back with, have a beer with, and talk.
All night long. About everything and nothing.
It had started with stupid jokes, career goals, and dreams and interesting kills, both walker and human ones, then proceeded to simple things like perks of the apocalypse and tricks of surviving.
These small visits soon repeated themselves, and even though he’d planned on throwing you on your bed every single time, it never came to it - and strangely, he was enjoying it.

“I got you something, by the way,” he suddenly mentioned, as if he just now remembered it.
He pulled a cigar out of his pocket and your eyes widened.
“Holy shit Negan…where’d you find that?” you asked happily, your hands brushing over his as you took it.
“One of my men found it in some house a few days ago,” he grinned.
“Niceee…Truly nice.” You stared at it in awe, then grinned at him.
This had gotten normal. Whenever you found anything interesting, you’d take it, presenting it as small gifts for each other.
It was a way of demonstrating your friendship - and maybe care for each other.
“So…I’d asked a question,” he noted, taking the rum from you.
“Ahh…I feel…I don’t know…let’s go out,” you offered.
“Out?” he looked kind of confused and you chuckled.
“Yeah. It’s such a nice night. Let’s drive a little. Somewhere. Anywhere.”
“The Queen wants to kill?” he finally understood, smirking at you.
“The Walkers won’t complain, will they?” she smiled back and leaned towards him.
“I propose a competition.”
“A competition?” you urged.
“I bet I can kill more than you.” His hand glided up and down Lucille.
You laughed. “I bet your bet. What does the winner get?”
“An order that has to be obeyed,” he exclaimed sounding determined as if he’d planned that out long ago.
“Deal.”

He was about to get up but you pushed him back down.
“Not quite yet though…” you smirked.
“Oh?” he sounded interested, staring at you as you stood up and walked over to the bed. He knew what would come now.
It wasn’t the first time you’d done that.
“I had a hard day. Let’s just…relax for an hour, how about it?” You turned your head to throw him a look over your shoulder.
Just the word relax did things to him.
He felt his back aching and the soreness of his muscles.
“Hell yeah, baby,” he groaned as he basically jumped up, seeing you crawling on your bed like that.
“UH-UH!” You pointed at him and he growled.
Negan started fumbling with his jacket, throwing it aside as if it were nothing, trying to get out of his shoes in the same movement.
“No dirty clothes in the bed, and the trousers stay on,” he mimicked, repeating the sentence he’d heard over and over. The main rule when it came to your bed.
“Good boy,” you purred and watched him in awe.
His muscles flexing, his whole god damn body as he pulled the shirt over his head, throwing it aside before crawling into bed next to you.
You had meanwhile turned to your left to get yet another bottle of alcohol, popping it open.
Neagan moaned silently in delight of the soft covers of your bed and the warmth of your body against his skin.
“Just one hour!” you warned.
“Just one hour…majesty,” he repeated, as he lazily closed his eyes, relaxation washing over his body.

This, was the only place he felt at peace
You were the only girl that could make his blood boil
And he was more than sure what he would order as soon as he won that little competition of yours later.

Should i do a third part?
Thanks for reading- have a glorious day!


(A big big thank you to  ruhrohmarshmallows for checking the grammar, mine sucks ^^)

icescrabblerjerky  asked:

Duende - Unusual power to attract or charm. For Kenna/Theron :D

[CONTEXT: In the Giant Alliance-Building Ensemble Piece, Kenna helps with tracking Darok and Arkous after Manaan, which is…basically my excuse to have months of drawn-out UST between her and Theron.]

They’ve tracked Darok and Arkous to a dingy out-of-the-way port, but finding out where they went from here is proving more difficult. Kenna’s been chatting up an off-duty customs official in the station’s tiny cantina for half an hour while Lana and Theron lurk in a booth nearby.

“She’s very good at this.”

“Hm?” Theron glances at Lana, taking his eyes off Kenna for the first time in several minutes.

“The captain,” Lana says with a hint of amusement. “She’s very good at getting people to talk to her.”

Theron looks back toward the bar as Kenna laughs at something the customs official says, looking at the other woman like she’s the only person in the room. “That she is.”

Finally, she excuses herself with one last dazzling smile and moves away, joining Lana and Theron in their booth a moment later.

“So I’ve got a dinner invitation and zero useful intel,” she informs them. “Think we might have gotten as far as we can with charm.”

“Pity,” Lana says. “Should we try credits next, or go straight to slicing?”

Theron downs the last of his drink. “Find me a console and watch my back.”

He’s almost done when Lana’s soft voice murmurs over their comms. “Security guard coming your way.”

“I need a few more minutes,” he replies.

“On it,” Kenna says, and a moment later Theron hears the sound of bodies colliding. “Oh, blast it, I’m sorry, I’m such a klutz sometimes–”

“No harm done, ma'am.” That’s the security guard, his voice echoing more faintly over Kenna’s comm. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, I just–I’m really sorry, I should have been watching where I was going. I’m just having the worst day–”

Glancing around, Theron finds her and the security guard out of the corner of his eye. She’s spinning some kind of story about how a customs official told her she needed to fill out one form but it turns out she needed another and now her ship’s going to be impounded if she can’t straighten out the mix-up, and she honestly looks like she’s about to burst into tears. By the time Theron finishes up, moves away from the console, and ducks into a nearby alcove, the guard’s practically falling over himself to help her out.

“Just tell the station master what you told me and you’ll be fine,” the guard says, and then gives her a confident smile. “And if customs still gives you trouble after that, come find me. I can lean on ‘em a little.”

Kenna reaches out and puts a hand on his arm, returning the smile, and something happens inside Theron that feels an awful lot like completely irrational jealousy. “That’s so sweet of you. You’ve been such a big help, I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“You’re gonna have to tell me how you got so good at that,” Theron murmurs as she moves away from the guard.

Kenna slips into the alcove with him, still wearing her wide-eyed innocent look. “What, give away my trade secrets? Not without you at least buying me a drink first.”

Theron folds his arms and leans one hip against the wall. “I’d say that could be arranged, but I’ve got data to analyze and you’ve got a dinner date.”

Kenna flashes him the same brilliant smile she gave her new friend at the bar earlier. “Some other time, then.”

Out of curiosity, and putting aside my personal feelings on whether it’s a good idea or not, how would you classify the sexualities of characters any protagonist can romance, regardless of their gender? I mean in games like da2 and now me:a?


(Also, before going into this: I’m sure some of you are now ‘well it shouldn’t matter what sexuality they are’ and while I’d like to agree, I would say that in a world where some sexualities are still criminalized, or considered a defect, it does matter to have positive, actual, representation not even just for those people who share that sexuality but especially to normalize it to the point it really won’t matter.)

Personally in da2 for instance you have characters like Isabela, and Anders make it clear they are attracted to more than one gender, but all the others I find it difficult to assign a specific sexuality to just because they weren’t really given one, rather they were left blank? So players could romance them with either Hawke. In my head I almost automatically consider them to be attracted to people regardless of gender, but I’m not sure it makes sense to even assign them a specific sexuality, but what are your thoughts?

3

For all your parties:

Davie Jones and the Kon-Rads, Davie playing sax at the age of 16 in 1963

The Kon-Rads are: David Jones (Bowie), Neville Wills, Alan Dodds, Dave Cook and George Underwood. They existed from 1962 until 1963 with David in it and recorded one single during that time: ‘I never dreamed’.  First pic negative for promotional picture, last one was used as such.

Listen to the Kon-Rads here (1965, without David)

very nice article with pics and lyrics about the Kon-Rads