#it's not like im much of a drinker anyway

[atalana]

a lot of people in the notes were wondering the alcohol content of something like this and, im not american, or really much of a drinker, but i do have a lot of autism to fuel an insane research binge so let's go!

here's a complete list of the drinks we see poured here, and their alcohol contents! (to the best of my ability, in roughly the right order)

4 bottles four freedoms silver rum 1.75L (40%) 1 bottle kings bay tropical white rum 1.75L (40%) 4 bottles four freedoms silver rum 750ml (40%) 2 bottles malibu rum, probably 1L (21%) 4 bottles sauza tequila 700ml (40%) 2 bottles classica triple sec 750ml (15%) 1 bottle unidentified but it’s in the same bottle as the triple sec and it's got oranges on it so let’s assume another roughly 15% orange liqueur (at this quantity i don’t think a percentage point or two matters) 2 bottles valeo silver tequila 750ml 40% 1 bottle unidentified but it’s blue and silver and with the tequilas, let’s assume another similar tequila 8 bottles of everclear! most of them are 60% abv, we know one of them is 75.5% (all 750ml) 3 bottles of pink whitney vodka 750ml (30%) 2 bottles four freedoms gin 750ml (40%) 2 bottles of vitali vodka, this comes in multiple abvs it seems but that bottle looks like the 40% 1.75L one mysterious hands with 1 bottle of kavlana vodka 750ml (40%) 4 bottles that might be smirnoff? 750ml (37.5%) 1 bottle uv cherry vodka (750ml, 30%) 1 bottle four freedoms tequila 1.75L (40%) 6 bottles hawaiian punch one gallon! which is a meaningless measurement to me so i’m converting to ~3.8L apparently 2 bottles assorted gallon juice 3 bottles assorted 1.5L juice 3 bottles of 1.5L cranberry juice 2 bottles sprite 1.5L 4 bottles 1L 7up 2 bottles additional 1L soda 8 bottles seagram’s italian ice 330ml (3.2%) 2 bottles barefoot pink moscato 750ml (9%) 1 box franzia sunset blush 5L (9%)

the fruit and candy is negligible, but ice usually adds about 15-20% dilution, so we'll give him the benefit of the doubt here and add that in in a sec

if my math is right, that should add up to about 97L of drink in that bathtub, if you add the melted ice that gives us around 112-117L total liquid

going through the abv of each bottle and adding them up, there's about 17.9L of alcohol in there

and that actually works out to about 15% abv for the final drink? which as far as i can tell is bog standard for a jungle juice

you'd want to be careful yeah because that is more in cocktail territory than, say, a bottle of wine is, and you're probably drinking more of it than you would a cocktail

but drinking it in moderation won't kill you

(not by alcohol poisoning anyway. i make no promises as to how it tastes)

[ruporas]

drank too much

[ID: Digital Art of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. Vash’s body is turned slightly away from the viewer as he holds a staggering Wolfwood by his shoulder. He has one foot ahead of the other, the foot in the back used to stabilize himself from tipping over. Wolfwood is tethering into Vash, his weight pressed into him with his arms wrapped around Vash’s waist and his face is hidden away as he leans against Vash’s shoulder. Vash’s expression can be seen, his eyes wide and mouth tight-lipped, and his face is flushed red. A speech bubble comes out from Wolfwood, saying a drawled “Spikeyyy...”. The background are desaturated pastels of blue and green, showing night time, as they stand in the middle of an empty street that is also lit by the moon not depicted. Yellow light is seen coming from the inside of a saloon. End ID]

[vile-wizard]

My brother (not one I live with) sent me a picture of a bottle of wine unprompted with an ask to hang out but I don't wanna leave the house todayyyy. Last time we hung out I invited him to my 2am binge-drinking-in-the-park extravaganza so he's trying to return the favor I guess.

[xxvinwestley]

rip the mfs that hced izzy as a non-drinker

(its me im mfs)

[0-twentyone]

I don’t wanna sound like a hater but I have been suspicious about this for a while now.

[inmyheaddd]

walkin out the door with your bags - grayson hawthorne x reader - part 9

⤷ ''i don't wanna be forward, i don't wanna cut corners // savor this with everything i have inside of me''

a/n: this took the longest ever to write omg!! im so sorry for the wait but i hope you enjoy ❥❥ also, hot by cigarettes after sex is literally their song i might sob 😭 summary: someone gives grayson a piece of advice, and grayson spends hours trying to decipher and make sense of it, just to find out the right answer was infront of him. series masterlist — other parts

flashback, 16 years old..

''this is highly dangerous, you know.'' grayson's voice was steady as he called out. he climbed right behind you anyway.

you were climbing up to the rooftop of your house on a very tall ladder. perhaps it wasn't the safest thing, but your parents had blocked all the staircases that led to the rooftop to stop you from going up there. you found ways around it, and they hadn't noticed the ladder yet.

''okay,'' you laughed, seeing your breath in the cold air. you looked back briefly to see his gaze trained on his feet below him as you both continued going up the ladder. ''i don't really care.''

''you should.'' he mumbled back, hint of sass in his voice. you weren't sure if he wanted you to hear that or not.

''please, you care enough for the both of us,'' you replied anyways, because you remembered everything about grayson was intentional. he was capable of being very silent when he wanted to.

two more steps, and you finally reached the top of the ladder and climbing onto the rooftop. you didn't struggle much, you came here every time the sky looked pretty, and in winter, that was pretty much every night. you exhaled as you sat, ''it evens things out.''

graysons eyebrows flashed up in agreement for a moment, not arguing on that.

he reached the top and climbed over with no struggle. he sat a few inches away from you, your gaze still trained on the sky ahead. you looked behind you, taking in the the whole sunset with its shades of bruised purple and little streaks of orange.

you pulled out a small thermos from your hoodies pocket.

well, it wasnt really a small thermos, it was... more of a larger flask that you had stole from your parents room because you needed something to keep your drink warm.

but what could you say? desperate times called for desperate measures.

grayson glanced at you, then away, then immediately did a double take again and eyed the object in your hand.

his expression reminded you of a teacher: a stern, disappointed, and confused expression all together. his nose crinkled slightly, and you almost laughed out loud.

''grayson,'' you laughed, ''it's hot chocolate... i couldn't find my thermos, relax.'' you understood where he was coming from, i mean, it was a flask, but you weren't a drinker.

he didn’t say anything, but his expression said it all. he stayed looking at you conspicuously and furrowed his brows slightly.

you laughed in disbelief, ''what? you want it?" you teased. when he simply looked at you with a disapproving brow raise, you gasped.

''grayson!" you brought a hand to your chest, ''you seriously think that low of me?" you laughed and leaned closer, waving the thermos dramatically in his face. “look! see? it’s hot chocolate!”

he leaned back, avoiding the container, his lips twitching like he was fighting off a smile.

“no, no,” you teased, moving the thermos side to side in his face as he tilted his head away. “you’re going to see for yourself.”

“stop,” he muttered, his voice still calm but laced with humor.

“look!” you insisted, waving it closer.

finally, he reached out, his hand carefully covering yours to still your movements. “alright,” he said, twinges of laughter in his voice. “i understand. it’s hot chocolate.”

his hand lingered for a second longer, and your eyecontact remained, before graysons eyes flickers across your face and his hand went back to its side.

''its a tuesday evening. and i'm on a rooftop.'' you sighed as you took a sip of your hot chocolate just to prove it even further, ''i'm not that reckless.''

you screwed the lid back on and put it back in your pocket, then you covered your hands with your sleeves in an attempt to fight off the cold.

''you think you're reckless? you should see my brother.'' grayson muttered, half to himself and half to you, but there was a softness in his voice.

you set your hand back down, and only then realised just how close it was to graysons. your fingertips were a hairbreadth away.

you felt like you physically couldn't pull your hand away, and even if you did could move, it would just make things awkward.

you remembered you had to respond to grayson's statement somehow. ''jameson practically invented dangerousness and recklessness and bad decisions. he doesn't count.'' you shot back jokingly as you looked at grayson.

he huffed a chuckle, looking at his lap and shaking his head slightly. surely he must've felt your hand right next to his.

your fingers twitched slightly. you could feel the tiny movements coming from his own hand- whatever you were thinking right now, he was clearly thinking the same thing.

you were acutely aware of the closeness of his hand to yours. your gaze stayed straight ahead. you didn't dare look at your hands.

your fingers inched a little closer to his. you heard your heartbeat in your chest.

the cold didn't seem like a problem any more, and you felt his callused fingertips run over the back of your hand. then your pinky interlocked with his.

it was a simple action, but it was near impossible to ignore the way it fuelled the part of your brain that screamed 'you like grayson!'

you stared down at your intertwined hands, you knew grayson did too, but neither of you said anything. he swallowed thickly and simply brought up a story of his brothers being 'truly reckless,' and how you seem like the furthest thing from it.

soon enough, the minutes turned to hours, and you discussed everything with grayson.

from the way school had been, plans you had for the winter, if you wanted to come to true north with him and his brothers for a few days (you said yes), stories he had from true north, and sharing horror stories of ski trips.

the conversation naturally began to lull. not in a bad way, but in a comforting way. you scooted a little closer to grayson with your hands still intertwined.

you looked up at the glittering sky, ''you know, i feel really bad for you right know.

''why?'' grayson looked at you,

''because you're not wearing your glasses, and you can't see the moon tonight.'' you responded simply, glancing at him for a second before looking back at the sky. ''it's really pretty.''

grayson took his gaze to the sky, and you were right, he couldn't really see it. he could just about see the shape of it, but that was it.

he took his gaze back to you, watching you admire the moon. ''i'm sure it is.''

you hummed a little in agreement, dangling your feet back and forth over the edge. a gush of freezing cold wind suddenly rushed past the two of you, and the way you physically shuddered made you both laugh.

''god,'' you chuckled, ''i should've worn a coat or something. i didn't know it would be so cold.''

grayson nodded, '''we are quite high up, naturally, its going to be colder up here,'' he gestured to the ground below. everything looked so small from all the way up here. that was partly why you loved it.

you had a hoodie on, but grayson held his arm open anyway and invited you in. you felt 10x warmer when he enveloped you into a side hug, but surely that was because of the cashmere sweater he wore, and not him.

''grayson?'' you hummed, your head on his shoulder.

''yes?''

''you know, um thanks for always being here,'' you muttered, feeling his fingers trace patterns on your arm , ''even when i'm irrational and i'm messy and I annoy you.''

he was silent for a moment, and you were tempted to look up so you could get a read on his face. ''you could never annoy me.''

you could practically feel his voices' vibrations, and his tone was soft. different from the way he usually talks with others- stern, assertive. but he wasn't that way with you.

''but i'm irrational and messy.'' you insisted.

his hand began to slowly run up and down your arm, soothing your nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. ''those aren't bad things.'' he told you. ''not when its you, at least.''

you stared at his hand interlinked with yours. not when its me? what does that mean? you thought.

you opened your mouth, just about to respond when— slam.

you and grayson jolted out of each others touch. your heart was beating crazily fast.

''holy shit,'' you put a hand on your chest, catching your breath as you and grayson caught eachothers gaze and laughed out of relief.

you quickly realised you had missed being in his arms, but you just couldn't return to a moment like that. a part of you wonders if it even happened, it felt so fleeting.

you nervously laughed, tucking your hair behind your ears before you carefully peered down over the edge to where you heard the noise.

you didn't feel any better or less frightened, though. the scene below you was your mom storming out the car, dressed like she had just gotten back from an event. you quite couldn't make out her words, and her pace was as fast as ever. even from afar, her posture looked rigid and her neck looked strained, like she was holding back tears or screams.

your dad got out of the car right after, slamming his side of the door too and shaking his head to himself as he tried to catch up to your mom. his hands were out like he was pleading or reasoning, and his expression was something dark that you didn't like.

grayson followed your gaze, seeing the scene you were looking at. he hadn't realised he was smiling a little until he felt his face drop.

grayson looked back at you, but it was hard to tear your gaze away from the scene, even when this scene was something you saw quite frequently. you tried to hone into your eavesdropping skills to hear what they were arguing about this time, but you were simply too far.

you name fell from his lips, and he repeated it twice when you didn’t answer. then finally asked, “are you alright?”

you didn't look straight at him, but he saw your expression. and he saw the way your fingers curled into a fist. you chewed on your bottom lip and blinked rapidly, then untucked your hair from behind your ears so it shielded your face.

he felt his heart drop. he had never seen you cry before.

you always acted as if nothing bothered you, and when it was obvious that something did, you hid it.

for a terrible moment, he worried that he wouldn't know what to do, that he'd somehow make things worse, but he simply let his actions come naturally.

he silently wished that this would be the last time he’d see you cry, he wished he could keep you happy forever.  

you seemed to finally realise he was still looking at you, and you sat up straight.

''sorry— i’m sorry.'' you mumbled as you quickly wiped at your eyes with the back of your hands. ''oh my god,'' you let out a chuckle, like it would make him forget the tears. ''that was so embarrassing, i'm literally fine. i don't know what that was.''

grayson watched you try and regain a sense of normalcy, ''its not embarrassing to feel,'' he told you.

he knew that was highly hypocritical of him to say that, considering the way he acted, but he would truly sit with you for hours listening to you talk about your feelings. for days, until the end of time, even.

he'd always be there for you, and he wished you would believe him when he said it. ''would you,” he trailed off, gaze flickering between your features, “would you like to talk about it?”

he knew the answer was likely going to be no, because he knew you, but he wanted to let you know that he’d be there for you always, if you suddenly decided you did want to talk.

you were silent for a moment, and every second of it, with every shuddering breath you took, he felt a stronger urge to be the one who wiped your tears, the one who held you. he watched you tentatively, concern written all over his face.

he recently felt like his feelings were blurring over the lines of them being simply friendly.

“actually,'' you sniffled a little, ''can we not talk about it?” you said, just like he had suspected.

you felt him nod, and said no more after that. he wouldn't push you. he knew when it was right to be persistent, and when to simply stay silent.

you took a deep breath. ''i'm feeling even more messy and irrational right now,'' you tried to lighten the mood with another laugh, but it just sounded sad. ''i don't know why i got like that, i mean, its not even that bad, compared to others.''

graysons brows knitted together. ''it doesn't matter what its like compared to others.'' he told you, his voice steady while yours wavered.

you finally raised your head from his shoulder ever so slowly and looked at him. your expression was unfamiliar. it was pained.

his gaze flickered between your eyes. he found himself speaking once again.

''i don't care about the others, i care about you.'' he squeezed your hand slightly, ''you should care about you, too.''

present...

grayson was oddly exhausted. he doubted that has anything to do with the fact that he had slept at 2 in the morning, though. the first thing he did was take a cold shower, but even that didn't help.

he didn't like to have caffeine so early on an empty stomach, but it seemed like he had no choice.

''good morning.'' he nodded curtly at gigi who was leaning on the counter, making his way to the coffee machine.

she was looking at him strangely, but that wasn't a rare occurrence, so he paid it no mind. grayson took a mug out of the cabinet, then he heard gigi clear her throat from behind him. he raised a brow to himself, still looking down at his cup.

then he finally realised- gigi was in his house.

he turned around swiftly, cup still in his hand as his eyes glazed over gigi suspiciously.

''you're in my house.'' he pointed out blankly, and gigi rolled her eyes.

''why are you in my house?'' grayson ordered. now, he was definitely shaken out of his previous stupor.

''you know, you're a real idiot, grayson.'' that was not a good morning, or an answer to his question.

''excuse me?'' he put his cup down on the counter he was standing behind. he was confused why gigi was in his kitchen to begin with, much less calling him an idiot at the ripe hour of 6 in the morning as he tried to make his black coffee.

''listen,'' gigi put on a stern face and hopped on the counter, but it was difficult to take her seriously with her bed head and ever so slightly puffy face, clearly having just woken up. how could grayson possibly not hear her come in?

''im gonna cut straight to the point.'' she started, and Grayson was glad she said that, because he was not in the mood for anything else but an explanation. ''I'm here because you did something. ever since about 3 days ago when you visited she’s been acting all weird. she won’t tell me what’s wrong, but i know something’s up with her. and i know it has something to do with you.'

she didn’t even have to say your name, there was only one her when it came to grayson. ever since that day where you came up to him so many years ago, asking him why he sat alone. there was always one her. you.

a heavy weight settled over his chest. “what makes you think i visited?” he forced himself out of his thoughts and asked, not confirming he did visit you, but not fully denying it either.

gigi rolled her eyes like it was obvious before she stole a grape from the fruit basket on the counter she sat on top of. “she won't tell me anything, did her whole control freak routine. i woke up the next morning with the whole living room redone, her room layout completely changed, and every surface literally polished and sparkling. she doesn’t just do that for no reason. for anyone.”

gigi tried to sound unbothered about the topic when she spoke, but the way she fiddled with her hands gave it away to grayson. it was obvious though, no one would like to talk about how their best friend was hurting. just as much as no one would like to hear about it, and know they caused it.

could he even call you his best friend anymore? he had never said it outright to you, but he suddenly wished he had told you how much he appreciated you every second he had the chance.

“you must've messed up bad, gray.” 

grayson averted his gaze. suddenly the fruits looked extremely interesting.

he couldn’t take back the horrible actions he made, the ways he tried to cope, the way he tried to silence his fears. they were done, they were his fault. that didn’t stop him from regretting them every single moment of his days. but even then, he still somehow seemed to be making the wrong choices. 

“I suppose you wouldn't be able to give me any advice on what to do?'' he asked rhetorically, his voice carrying too much emotion than he would like. he sat up straight in his chair and cleared his throat. 

grayson never asked for advice. he never asked for help. he did everything alone.

and look where that got him.

“hey, i'd give advice to you any time you need it!,'' gigi said half jokingly, tucked her hair behind both of her ears, her voice carried a weight that revealed that she could tell just how grayson was feeling.

''listen, i’d like to be super cool and mysterious, and give you some vague advice like ‘do whatever your heart tells you,’ or, ‘the right choices will find you,’'' gigi said, putting on a deep voice and making quotation marks with her fingers. ''but you somehow manage to always make the worst decisions ever. without fail.” her voice was back to normal, raising her eyebrows and pointing at him.

even he knew she was right. 

“you’ve messed up way too much, and i don’t want you hurting my best friend any further, so i’ll give you this:” gigi continued, and grayson realized she wasn’t doing this for him, she was doing it for you. then, another thought that he been trying to avoid came up again: he hurt you much more than he had realised. 

“talk to her. and stay. you know her better than anyone, why on gods green earth would you believe that when she said she’s ‘fine’ or that ‘she doesn’t care’ that she was seriously saying the truth?” gigis expression turned sour as she furrowed her brows, like the topic annoyed her to even speak about. 

believe me, grayson thought, however aggravated you are about this, i’m infinitely more aggravated with myself. 

“you’re annoyingly persistent sometimes, so make some good use out of it.” gigi said, “i’m not going to tell you the things she’s told me exactly, but, you must’ve been a real idiot to just stand there and nod when she tells you that a kiss you shared was a mistake.”

grayson wasn’t surprised gigi knew all of that. grayson figured that was all he would get from gigi, but he selfishly found himself wanting to know more about how you were feeling. he was grasping for anything. you had both seemingly cleared up the air, decided you were 'friends' again and nothing more, but you hadn't even talked since.

usually, in a time back when things were as perfect as they could’ve been, you would’ve been telling him first hand. now, he had to find out about how you felt because of him by his half sister. 

it would never go back to the way it was. grayson could only hope to make it better than before.

he was no stranger to saying something, and meaning, truly longing for something completely different, so he didn't blame you for not

he wonders what he did wrong this time.

the girl, ella.

he was told it would be a good pr move on his end. he hadn’t been seen in the media for a while— which was how he liked it— but his team argued it would be good for him to resurface before the additions to the charities, to get more press. 

he would’ve simply said no. it would've been final, and his team wouldve never brought tbut the girl, ella, was what ended up convincing him. she was trying to hide her relationship with a co star of hers, another girl grayson couldn’t quite remember the name of.

all he remembered was being told ella was being bombarded with rumors, and she needed to out a stop to them before the second season of her show premiered. she was severely distressed—it was her first show, and she herself hadn't even come out to the public yet.

so he agreed. it went on for 2 weeks until there was enough social media posts and tabloids posted of them two.

he thought about the way your voice wavered when he went over to talk, the way you eyed him silently, the way your body language contradicted your words. you were silently angry at him, but you stayed friendly. he didn't have to solve anything to figure that one out.

he could always understand you even when you didn't have the right words to say it yourself, or when you simply didn't want to. a picture played in his mind— one of him nodding his head with an arm around your shoulders, offering comfort silently when you mumbled ''actually, can we not talk about it?" into his chest quietly. he remembered how his heart ached.

you had both mastered the language that had been created and growing between you since the day you met. now, he still knew it, but he had nowhere to even put it to use. he doubts he could ever truly forget it, though.

grayson realised too late how horrible of an image the ella debacle must've painted in your eyes. it was possibly the worst choice he had ever made. right after the days he went not speaking to you, and the times he didn't stay. 

he hated himself for the decisions he made, and gigi should've hated him too.

''why are you here, telling me this?'' grayson finally said. he was aware that his eyes were instinctively narrowed suspiciously, but he couldn't help it. gigi looked at him sympathetically.

''because, unfortunately, you guys are too stubborn and stupid to see what's clearly right infront of you.'' she said simply with a dramatic sigh. ''and you need me— the super-smart-all-seeing-gigi, to help the process along a little. and, despite the way you've been acting, you're my brother,'' her voice softened, ''and i don't like seeing you sad.''

he didn't even deny he was sad. there was no point. he contemplated asking more, brows furrowed as he looked at the counter infront of him, hands gripping the edges tightly. but he stayed silent instead, replaying gigi's words and trying to make more sense of them.

''...well, if that's all,'' she said, breaking the silence. ''i've got to go, i have a flight to catch.'' that explained why she was awake at 6 in the morning.

''where are you going?'' his grey eyes narrowed once again, this time, he was acutely aware of it.

''none of your business.'' she taunted, slipping right back into their sibling banter. ''well, actually—'' a smile stretched across her face despite her efforts, ''its noah, i don't know if you even remember him, but, he's taking me on a trip.'' she blurted, clearly too happy about that fact to remember that she was supposed to be holding a grudge against grayson. ''but— not that its any of your business, of course.''

grayson nodded. a part of him was hurt that gigi doubted he'd remember someone significant to her, but his mind went to a different place before he could dwell on that fact any longer.

he remembered one of the conversations he had with you, on the night you kissed.

''we know eachother. i trust you more than most.'' he once told you, remembering the way your eyes looked into his and the way they glinted when he finished his sentence. he remembered wanting to smile at that.

''yeah, and gigi knows noah. you should be able to trust her with her choices.''

“is she truly happy?”

“yeah, gray, she really is happy.”

he cleared his throat and brought himself back to the present moment. he wouldn't focus on the past right infront of someone, he couldn't, it simply hurt too much. ''right.'' he said coldly, ''of course. have a safe flight, gigi.''

she smiled awkwardly and got up from the counter. she took an apple with her, and gave him one last look, one that made graysons heart twist.

''why did you have to ruin this?'' her eyes seemed to say. ''you're my brother. she's my best friend. why are you making me choose?"

grayson wished he had a response. instead, he just watched her walk off with his brows knitted slightly.

he exhaled a long breath once gigi left, his elbows on the counter as his head fell into his hands. he raked both hands through his hair, roughly, not like the way you would. he shook before he abruptly stood up.

so many feelings, yet he couldn't articulate a single one properly.

there was one that seemed clearer than the rest. he hated himself--for ruining things for and hurting you when all he wanted was to protect you.

he let out a low, bitter laugh to himself.

some protector he was.

he did the one thing he always did when he needed to think clearer, to have control over something when all else seemed to be wrong and disorderly.

he made his way outside, grabbed a towel, and went for the pool.

the water was icy against his skin, but he welcomed it. he pushed off the edge and began swimming laps, each stroke more forceful than the last.

the tension in his chest didn’t lessen—it grew, tightening with every thought of you.

he swam faster, rougher, but not deviating on his strict rigid form. he couldn't. 'you need to talk to her. and stay,' gigis words played out in his head.

should he reach out again? what if you get annoyed? what if you're sick of him?

he knew you must've been somewhat sad, judging by the fact that gigi came to him, but what if you were more angry? what if gigi read it wrong, and you really wanted nothing to do with him?

the only reason he doubted the last one was because gigi knew you better than anyone. she couldn't have read whatever you were feeling wrong. whatever she saw, she felt the resolution was for you two to fully see it out to the end. to 'talk and stay' with each other.

'you're grayson davenport hawthorne, you don't worry about what ifs.' he reminded himself. what would his grandfather say? much worse, he had no doubt.

besides, you were his best friend. doing something would be better than doing nothing and let the friendship and possibility of more slowly fade, then disappear.

he swam and swam, and ran through all the possible outcomes in his mind. he did this until his arms burned and his lungs begged for air. it still wasn’t enough, though.

grayson pushed through the pain, through the ache in his muscles, until he couldn’t anymore. gasping for breath, he finally stopped and hung onto the edge of the pool, his head tilted forward as water dripped down his face.

his chest was heaving, and the pain he had felt was finally all crashing down. it was easier to ignore when he was moving. he clenched his jaw with his grip on the pool’s edge tightening. he didn't feel any better. he didn't feel like he had any more control over his life.

he was an idiot. an idiot who was still drowning, even now, on dry land.

he pushed himself up and out of the pool, his brows furrowed frustradely and muscles taught as he dried off.

he wouldn't let himself mope around any longer.

his hair was still slightly wet as he sat at his office desk. he had taken another shower, this time, it was steaming hot.

his eyes kept flickering to his phone as he worked on his laptop. he found himself wanting to reach out and call you.

no, he needed to plan it better. he couldn't just expect you to answer and for you to listen to him.

but- wasn't how the problems arose in the first place? waiting for the perfect moment that never came?

it was that way years ago, it was that way a few weeks ago, and it seemed like it was about to be that way again.

he closed his eyes for a brief moment. focus. then he got back to work.

still, despite his efforts, he couldn't focus. his mind was in an entirely different place. he read over an email before he pressed send.

how did he manage to mistype no as know?

he stared at the powered off phone laying on his desk once again.

the last time he had texted you, every single one of his brothers had pushed him to.

now, he was utterly alone in his office. his brothers were all out of the house, and his black out curtains kept his room dark, except for the low orange lamps you had forced him to put in there 'to make it look less robotic'.

his eyes flickered to his phone one more time, and he finally retracted his hand from his laptops keyboard.

he turned on his phone, and from then on it was muscle memory, the one thing he would do whenever he was feeling lost. whenever he needed clarity in his peculiar life of his.

he called you.

the phone rang, his thumb hesitated over the red cancel button, but he couldn't. he'd look like even more of a coward.

he was still unblocked, and despite not speaking to each other for so long, you picked up.

''hello?''

his heart beat faster than it did when he swam. ''hey, its grayson.''

you were silent for a second, ''I know.''

you phrased it like a question, almost.

''i apologise for the abrupt call, but, there seems to be a gap in my life where our daily phone calls once were, and to be frank, i missed them.'' he said it straight forward. he prayed that gigi's advice was right. he started the talk part, now he needed to stay. ''how have you been?''

“uh,” you laughed slightly on the other line, and grayson found himself missing the jokes you’d make that he’d call terrible, the nonsensical rants, or the way you’d beg to pick the movie to watch every single without fail on those movie nights you’d hold every friday. the one time he picked, it was the night you kissed. the night where everything changed, and grayson couldn’t tell if it was for the better or worse. 

''well, I just broke my glasses, for one.'' you replied, ''like, literally two seconds ago.'' he heard the laugh in your voice, like the reasoning behind it was funny. but you didn't tell him the the story behind it.

you stayed silent, and that was one of the major tells things weren't how they used to be. stay, he reminded himself.

you were the type of person that when he'd ask about your day, you'd talk about every single detail, down to the tiniest things like your losing your favourite pen or tripping over a rock on your morning walk.

he didn't realise he could miss something so much.

''so uh,'' you cut into his thoughts with a small laugh that he could tell was out of nervousness. ''i need to go fix that. but other than that, i'm pretty good.'' grayson nodded, even though you couldn't see him.

''shame about your glasses, those frames did really suit you.'' he let the words escape his lips before he could think twice.

''thanks, but, they are long gone, for now, at least.'' you said. ''besides, them breaking now gives me an excuse to wear contacts. looking on the bright side.. but uh, enough of me, how are you?

grayson leaned back in his chair, ''ive been alright. however, i've been thinking,'' he began, ''i know we've sorted things out since i last saw you, but we haven't talked much, and i think it would be quite nice for us to see each other some time.''

''oh,'' your voice was quiet on the other end, and grayson sat back up straight again. ''yeah- yeah, sure. i was actually thinking about that earlier today. but i didn't really know how to talk to you, so, I'm glad you said something.''

gigi's advice was right.

'didn't really know how to talk to you.' that part made graysons chest hurt strangely, like he was back in the pool.

''what an odd coincidence,'' he responded simply.

you hummed before you spoke, your voice was quiet on the other line. ''I thought you didn't believe in coincidences.''

he was silent.

''sorry,'' you chuckled, ''I don't know why I said that, it just popped up in my mind- you used to say it all the time, and... yeah.''

''don't apologise, you haven't done anything wrong. youre right, I usually don't.''

''what changed?''

the response in his mind was instant: he met you.

''strangely enough, i'm not too sure.''

he heard you snort from the line, ''well, isn't that a first?'' you muttered, not giving him a chance to respond before you started again. ''um, gigi actually left for the airport this morning, so i'm incredibly bored right now.''

''would you like to organise something for today, then?''

you laughed again, ''is that your weird way of asking me if i want to hang out today?"

''you know i've never been particularly skilled in these areas.''

''oh boy, i know.'' you exhaled, ''well, i'll be heading to the park at like, 12, so...'' you trailed off, and he heard a slight smile in your voice. he wished he was seeing it, instead. ''if someone happened to, you know, coincidentally be there, i wouldn't necessarily turn and run away.''

he couldn't stop his own grin, though he knew he shouldn't feel too happy just yet. ''is that your strange way of telling me to meet you at the park at noon?''

''yes,'' you didn't miss a beat, ''it is.''

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm @goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington @peppapigsposts @thoughtdaughter3 @cant-see-sam

[dansformations]

"Influencing influencers"

Im Byron, im kinda popular on the media, wouldnt call myself an influencer but at least an small celebrity for certain people: gay guys. Im popular between gay guys.

Then there is this guy, Tod, he do Is an influencer, another gay guy pretty popular, and we have done some colaboration videos, thanks to this i got a bit of highlights recently, getting more followers, but just some days ago Tod posted something off, at least for his usual:

Fart jokes? Superhero referentes? Both together!? Really weird if you ask me to. The situation got weirder when a lot of popular guys from the "gymbro side" of the media started comenting, celebrating his video... And he wrote back, in the weirder way posible:

"@markobroskii: Sick Bro! Superman Is next

@Tody_yourguy: Aded to the list broski!"

Didnt tought too much about It until he post a video that made my jaw drop:

He wasnt just wearing clothes that didnt match his usual but he was in the lingerie zone playing with the undies, saying he was making the zone 'More enjoyable to the View"

That sell the deal. I send his a message and went to his place to check on him.

In the way to his place i saw his @ on media changing to @Tod_thebro.

Wtf!?

When arrived, i notice diferences since he open the door, he stank!

- Jesus! Tod, thats your smell!?

- Yeah, some bro scent, go ahead bro, take a sit - he said With a voice that sounded diferent, he was talking with this "Frat Bro" acent we used to laugh about.

His apartament was now a mess, full of empty - and not so empty - pizza boxes, empty beer cans, dirty clothes, and sticky looking socks... He offer me a beer from a brand i didnt knew, but i'm not really a drinker so maybe thats why. I took it just to be polite, took some sips... Wasnt that bad.

Tried to find the cleanest place and thats where i sat.

- Sup bro, what did you wanna talk about?

- Well... About this... - I said looking around -Whats happening? First that gross fart video - I saw him chuckle when i mentioned that - then that also gross video on the lingerie store and Now... Look at your apartament, what hapened?

- I woke up bro - thats his only answer.

- Huh?

- I realice that gay life wasnt right for me

- What the fuck you- he interupt me

- Going to the gym, no worries about skin care routine - he keep talking - no worries even about showers, not washing my butt every-time-i-have-a-date - he said that words sounding indeed really sick of it- or not washing my butt at all, no using it for please other guys, just using it for this:

After saying that he lifted a leg and rip a long, smelly and loud fart

PRRRRRRFFFFFFFTTTFFFF the fart resonated for all the place, stinking everything, i had to cover my nose inmediatly, which make Tod laugh.

- Tod, theres no way to go straight, u have always been against that believe!

- Used to, but theres way, and you Will UAAARP agree soon

- What do you mean? - i said confused, and a bit of worried

- See, my awaking start when i had the first can of a beer from this weird brand a hot masc guy gave me, that same beer you are drinking now

Oh fuck.

- Oh n-OOUUUURRRRRP

- It's already starting, bro

- Theres no way, uh-PRRRRRRFFTTTFFFF

Tod was smiling with and almost evil smile, chugged a can of beer, belched and said: Cheers bro.

While here, I was burping non-stop, feeling my brain a bit foggy... Why I was worried about?

...

@ morningboy💕:

Oh!, Byron finally posted something, and it looks like a colab with Tod! Maybe he make him come back to his senses, all his 'turning straight' story really afect to the community.

Anyways lets see the video...

Ok, that outfit was a choice, Byron - I tough

Keep watching.

Oh... Oh no, is Byron having a fart contest with Todd!?

This feels wrong... Wait! Why his user just changed to @Byb-ronski...

[catscidr]

// what's the difference between scotch and whisky anyways //

i. note — /edit/ i said i would fix the formatting later and Now is later hi hellooo. sorry for not posting, i suddenly couldnt bring myself to write for more than five minutes at a time lmaoa ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) but i hope the dottore enjoyers like this at the very least. rn im working on chapter 3 of fbbts and a darker, separate dottore/reader one shot and a couple of jjk fics if anyone would even be interested in reading them lol. but in the meantime, here's drunken shenanigans ft everyone's favorite war criminal ii. includes — dottore x gn!reader, webttore (beta) and omega cameos. various mentioned harbingers iii. cw — fluff, crack sorta, alcohol stuff, dottore is ooc because he's Not Sober, everyone is clingy. fun stuff yk iv. wc — 3,5k -> ao3 link

It’s a popular stereotype that Snezhnayans are heavy drinkers, but the fact lies within the fatui. They’re shameless; whether it’s showing up to work inebriated or drinking on the job, they’ll hold onto the ‘snezhnayans have a high alcohol tolerance’ stereotype with clenched fists and a bottle at their lips. 

However, that fact only applies to the lackeys—agents that are stationed for hours on end without a break, agents that, at times, need liquid courage to face the horrors that come with the job. The Harbingers are an entirely different case. 

They balance each other, in a way. Where Tartaglia can down three shots of fire water and come out virtually unscathed, Damselette would rather not be caught within a hundred meters of a drop of alcohol. Where The Knave occasionally enjoys a glass of wine in her office, The Balladeer sneers at the choice of drink. 

None came together to go out for drinks, if not because of their job taking up a lot of time out of their days. No, none of the Harbingers were really close enough to let themselves be seen so vulnerable, if one dared drink themselves to the point of being unable to walk in a straight line. 

Thus, there had only been rumors circulating the halls of Zapolyarny palace. Hushed speculations spoken between coworkers, told with an air of excitement. No one has ever seen their Lords in a state other than wholly glorious, so it’s only human nature to wonder just what they would be like if their dignity were knocked down a peg—how they would be if they indulged in simple human vices. 

There are two kinds of Harbingers; ones that lack any rumors about their drinking habits, and ones that are so intriguing that if you were to strike up a conversation with a fatui agent, you would start theorizing about what kind of drunk they’re like before saying hello. Tartaglia and The Knave are part of the former, along with The Rooster and The Fair Lady. The latter consists of (unsurprisingly) The Balladeer, our sweet Damselette, and the two big shots at the top. 

Rumors of The Captain’s drinking habits are usually quite short-lived. People either have too much respect for him to speculate about something as childish as how he acts when he’s had too much to drink, or fear him too much to risk spreading rumors. 

But regarding The Doctor... 

It’s no secret that, even if he is eccentric and has a penchant for unconventional research methods, he has quite the loyal following. Agents will rally to defend him if they hear anyone slandering him, insisting that he’s reasonable and logical. ‘If you simply do your job, you have nothing to worry about’ is what they’d say. 

Although he’s amassed his fair share of fans within the fatui, they’re unlike The Captain’s loyal following; The Doctor’s subordinates are the first to whisper theories about their boss’ drinking habits. He’s only part human now, so maybe alcohol doesn’t affect him the way it does normal people like Tartaglia. Oh, but he seems the type to need to unwind occasionally, so maybe he has a secret stash of wine somewhere in his office? What if, in his free time, he creates various concoctions and cocktails to drink? 

Seeing as he understands science deeper than anyone else, mixology should be a walk in the park for a scientist as lucrative as him. 

Wrong. 

“Shouldn’t you be working?” 

The glare sent your way is nothing short of vicious. There stood in front of you one of his segments, the one with the infamous short fuse. “Why are you here?” 

You internalize the sigh you want to let out, deciding against making him mad when it seems he can’t even stand straight for longer than a few seconds. 

“Lord Pantalone dismissed me early.” You strategically omit why he let you go in the first place. “Where’s Prime?” 

As per anything retaining to Il Dottore, your relationship was unconventional at best. The term closest to what you were, if you wanted to describe said relationship, would be lovers—but... not quite? Still. Neither you nor Dottore cared enough to put a clear label on it, so you’ve resorted to letting people speculate— it can be quite entertaining to listen to people guess while being loud and wrong, anyways. 

You used to work under him as one of his many researchers. When you both started taking your relationship seriously, he threw in the idea of promoting you to being his personal assistant; that way he could (give you special treatment) have someone more competent than his last assistant take care of “menial tasks” like his tedious paperwork. 

You refused the generous offer, insisting that it would be unprofessional to work under him as his partner. After many late-night discussions (and stubborn headbutting of differing opinions) you both have come to an agreement in which you would work for Lord Pantalone as a financial planner. 

(You finally managed to convince him by bringing up how you could, hypothetically, pull some strings on your end in his favor—that you could persuade Pantalone to allot more funding for his research. If he had any shame left, it would have been embarrassing how quickly he shook your hand to accept your conditions.) 

Now, while you spent most of your time in an office in The Regrator’s office building near the Palace, you occasionally came by to drop off documents. Of course, you would use your short trips as an excuse to go see Dottore (even if you could do so at any time anyways, given how much authority he had.) 

However, sometimes you just want to work. 

You’ll leave the comfort of your cubicle to go see him and the extensions of himself, sure, but you still had a job to do. Papers piled up, clients grew impatient, and even your boss wasn’t immune to their nasty attitude whenever he held a meeting with a particularly irritating client. Thus, sometimes you wished you could truly focus, lose track of time and work until your wrist forced you to take a break. 

This wouldn't happen today, clearly. Seeing as one of Dottore’s lackeys rushed to your office to bring you to the Haeresys, you most likely won’t be seeing your desk until further notice. 

Now you were stuck with a cryptic Beta, trying your best to use what little knowledge about the clones’ machinery you managed to wring out of your stubborn lover. 

“Where’s Prime?” You run a hand over your wrinkled coat sleeve, keeping your voice calm and steady. Patient, else you’d be subjected to the segment’s indignation. 

“Dunno.” 

You sigh. Is he a scientist or a child? “You do know. Where is he?” 

“I told you I don’t know!” He throws his hands up, accidentally striking his mask in the way—effectively leaving it to rest at an angle on his face. Most of his mouth showed now, instead of the half you’re used to seeing. And the holes for the eyes don’t quite go where they should... 

Blinking, you take in the sight in front of you while he calms down. His crimson eyes were glassy, and his lips formed a permanent pout, vastly out of character for a segment that supposedly represented The Doctor at the most volatile stage of his life. Azure locks curled around his cheeks, though they were usually tucked out of the way. His clothes were all wrinkled, in a way that left you wondering if you shouldn’t tend to him instead. Dealing with his attitude is annoying, but it’ll be amusing to think about later, I guess. 

“Do you really not know...?” 

“No.” 

“Then, do you know why I was called to the lab?” 

“No. Yes... probably not. Uh,” he crosses his arms over his chest and loses his balance for just a second, “I think I do.” 

You raise an inquisitive brow, silently encouraging him to continue. 

“Give me a second.” Beta shuts his eyes, shoulders slumping. His mask was still crooked—you had half a mind to fix it, but held back the twitch in your fingers. After a few seconds he pipes up, uncrossing his arms to reach out to you. 

“Come.” 

The segment grabs your wrist and drags you into the hallways of the Palace, ignoring your yelp of surprise and the stares of various agents lingering in the halls. You pass by ornate statues and paintings, the sight more unfamiliar than not. 

“Beta, where are we-” 

“Hush, I can’t walk when you’re talking my ear off.” 

...Right. Something is definitely wrong. 

After about five minutes of running around like headless chickens you tug your arm back, making Beta turn around indignantly. You lift your hands up in front of you before he can speak. 

“Did you mean to bring me to Lady Signora’s office?” you ask, lips curled up into a small smile seeing his mask still laid crooked on his face. With a gentle hand you fix it, cold fingers grazing his burning cheek. 

“...” 

Beta’s brows furrow as he avoids your gaze, huffing dramatically. Poor guy, you mused. 

“Alright, let’s go to the lab, then. He must be there, right? Where was Prime last time you saw him?” 

“...his office, probably,” he murmurs. 

With a nod and a smile akin to someone doing some gentle parenting, you place a hand on his back and help guide him to Haeresys. The stairs were hard to walk down, but with just a bit of patience and a bit of Beta clutching your arm while shouting that you were trying to assassinate him, you make it down in one piece. 

You remove your gloves and place your palm into the scan, then input the lengthy password to open the laboratory’s large doors. They slide open, revealing the absence of normal researchers and noise. You spot Omega standing over the remains of a ruin machine with a clipboard in his hands and look back towards Beta. 

“Go sit, I’ll go ask Omega about Prime’s whereabouts.” 

The clone nods, trudging his legs along to lay down on the leather couch tucked away in the lab. 

As you put away your large coat and hang it up in the small rack near the doors and make your way towards Omega, you notice the slow rhythm of his handwriting—when he’s usually seemingly speedrunning writing down notes, he’s now leisurely writing away, unaware of your presence. 

“Omega.” 

The latter turns to you, masking his surprise with a small smile instead. “My dear,” he practically purrs, putting away the clipboard in a swift movement, placing the pen in his coat pocket. 

“I was alerted that something was... off, with Prime. Do you know where he is?” 

And where you thought Omega would pick up on Beta’s lack of decorum, you were sorely mistaken. The clone walks up to you with that same smile brightening his features, placing both hands on your shoulders oh so gently. 

“He’s in his office. But enough about him, I haven’t seen you in a while, beloved. Why must you keep me away from you?” he muses, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. You tilt your head to avoid being stabbed by his mask’s beak, raising your hands to press against his chest to make some distance. The action proved to be futile, of course. 

We saw each other yesterday, you murmur. “I’m sorry, I’ll get back to you in a moment, alright?” You offer him a warm smile in hopes that he’ll listen, seeing as he seemed to be quite... mushy. 

It works, and he lets you go with a curt nod, retreating to go... somewhere. You didn’t linger around long enough to figure it out, since you knew where to go now. 

Walking across the lab, you note how things seemed to be more out of place than usual. It couldn’t have been a researcher, they always had to clean up after themselves, courtesy of their boss. So, the mess had to be caused by them... 

You finally stand in front of his door, raising a fist to knock. A yelp leaves you as you’re whisked away, the door slamming shut just as quickly as it swung open. 

“Dottor-” 

“Can you fucking believe how inept these agents are? They dare speak to me with such disrespect after delivering the lousiest job I’ve ever seen.” Dottore rambles, pulling you deeper into his office. You observe the state of his workspace, namely the papers scattered onto the ground and the... bottlecap on the floor, right next to his trashcan filled with crumpled up paper...? 

“Showing up in the lab with their damn hands empty save for the half empty bottle of scotch they tried to hide. Idiots were too shitfaced to notice how I noticed.” 

“Okay, Dottore, what are you-” 

He gestures wildly as he speaks, his hands the only way for you to read him as his mask hid most of his features. The blue lines taunt you; though you’re tempted to take it off, you feel like he might just lunge at you if you did. 

“And then they had the gall to insist that the bottle was theirs when I confiscated it.” Dottore pushes you down to sit on the couch, a small oof leaving you in consequence. “Anything that enters this fucking lab belongs to me, I’m the boss, I decide what flies and what does not.” 

Absolutely unaware of your muffled giggles as you piece things together, he keeps ranting, turning his back to you as he stomps away towards his desk. “Not to mention these damn lackeys have had multiple warnings up until now,” he spits out. “Lord Harbinger, we’re sorry! We’ll clean up the lab to make up for this offense! Lord Harbinger, it won’t happen again! Who do they take me for, a moron?!” 

The higher pitch he uses to imitate (and make fun of) the agents almost makes you lose it. But you keep your composure, sitting demurely, listening. 

Dottore comes back with a bottle in hand, orange liquid swirling around the thick glass as he stumbles closer to where you sat. He joins you without warning, creating a dip in the sofa next to you—almost forcing you to lean onto him for support. His free arm drapes over the back as he sighs loudly, making you stifle a laugh behind your hand. 

A pregnant pause stretches between the two of you as his anger simmers down to embers. You lean forward, attempting to take a look at the label on the bottle in his hand. 

“What’re you holding there, love?” you ask sweetly. Glancing up you’re able to steal a peek at his eyes from underneath his dark mask—Archons was he absolutely gone. 

It takes him a second to respond, almost as if he forgot you were even there in the first place. 

“Whisky.” 

“I thought it was scotch.” 

“Same thing.” 

“No it isn’t.” 

“Yes it is.” 

“No it’s n-” 

“It is.” 

Maybe it wasn't the brightest thing to do, messing with him while he’s this inebriated. But it sure was entertaining. 

“Alright. Well, how much did you drink?” 

“A sip or two.” 

As if on cue, he brings the bottle up to his lips and takes a swig. Your grin widens, thoroughly entertained by the show; who else had the privilege of seeing The Doctor so drunk he could barely formulate something that made sense? 

You bring his attention back on you as you place a hand on his knee, leaning close. Dottore immediately snaps into place, gaze flickering down to your lips from the proximity. 

With a swift hand you grab the scotch from his hands, inspecting the amount still left in the bottle. If he said it was half empty when he confiscated it, then... 

“Dearest, did you drink a quarter of this bottle?” You're not even supposed to drink it straight from the bottle, either is what you wished to add, but seeing how defensive he was already, you figured it would just make things more complicated than they needed to be.

As if stung by the Tsaritsa’s delusion, he immediately stiffens and defends himself. “I did not, I told you I only had a sip.” 

The way his bottom lip jutted out was almost cute, if you dared to describe him in such a way. Compliments could wait though; you had answers to seek. 

“Mhm, a sip. Well,” you put the bottle down on a coaster on the coffee table and turn to face him properly, “what happened to the segments? They’re all a little... woozy.” Your fingers trail his arm, tracing circles in their wake. 

Dottore swallows, Adam's apple bobbing as he opens his mouth to speak. “We’re connected, albeit loosely. They could be affected by the few sips of scotch I drank, though I would have some work cut out for me if that were the case. I can’t let them be so weak after all.” 

The way he spoke sounded, for lack of better words, pouty. 

Was he... sulking? 

“And since we’re connected, I know you spoke to Beta ‘n Omega earlier.” 

He most definitely is. He's even slurring his words, now...

“Yeah? I was asking them where you were so I could check up on you, baby.” You chuckle softly, taking the liberty of putting his mask away. Bright, glassy red eyes stare down into you, and you hold back the urge to smother his face in kisses. 

“You didn’t have to talk to them, you could have just asked me.” 

“I was looking for you, so I couldn’t have.” 

“Why not?” 

You scoff, smiling as you adjust yourself on the couch. Dottore notices and takes the liberty of pushing you down, laying his head down so his ear is on your chest, cheek pressed up into you. “I’m sorry, I’ll ask you next time,” you respond. 

That satisfies him, enough to render him silent for a handful of seconds before he speaks up again. 

“...I need to get back to work,” he huffs. 

You bring a hand up and run it through his disheveled locks, careful not to tug at the small knots in the hair at the back of his neck. Twirling the hair of his mullet you hum, noting how his weight seemed to grow heavier as the seconds passed. No way is he going to get any work done if he falls asleep here. 

“Take a break, you deserve it. In the meantime, you can think of a suitable way to punish those stupid agents from earlier, right?” 

A quiet hum is all you get in response. You look down expecting to see his unnerving red eyes to be staring up at you, but you’re met with the sight of his features completely lax instead. Azure hair pools around his face, settling on your chest where his face rose in time with your breaths. 

You would have dimmed the lights and turned off his computer if you knew he was going to keep you hostage on the couch. Though you can’t really complain at the turn of events; it’s rare for Dottore to be the one to initiate skinship in the relationship. 

It was quiet, but you managed to hear the low dear? that left his lips. You hum, not wanting to speak as to not break the quiet atmosphere lulling you to a sense of peace. 

After a minute of silence, you decide to repeat yourself—this time a little louder than before. “What is it?” 

Another minute passes, just as quiet as the last. The sound of his slow, deep breaths fills the room, accompanied by the low scratches of your nails on his scalp. His hair parts where your fingers tread through it, and you quietly note that you should trim his hair soon. 

Il Dottore’s poor alcohol tolerance will always be a mystery to the public, because there’s no way you would ever let anyone in on the way he cuddles up to you when he’s had too much to drink. 

[shotmrmiller]

Purely self indulgent ask cause im tipsy., but how would the 141 deal with a partner that was just tipsy enough to be giggly and sleepy?? I can def see JOhnny matching energy and making them laugh and matching energy, Gazx being also matching energy but aslo giving them water and soft, Price and Ghost i see as a mix of very amused and very "ok lovie, time to go to bed" and tucking them in. Anyway, thank you for writing your fics and drabbles i check your blog every day after work <3 Your underground fighter au! is my absolule fave, but babysitter is also soooo good too. sorry for my typos im sure are making this hard to read lol.

soap has drunk as much as you and isn't nowhere near pissed as but he finds it cute and doesn't police how much you drink but will eventually just hide the bottle like there's no more hen time for bed :)

kyle's watching you have a good time and def indulges you in every little thing. doesn't matter if your cackling at a picture of clifford the big red dog on x, he's chuckling with you. want chinese he knows you won't eat? already on the phone. yes, you can sing him a song. also drink your water.

john's a heavy ass drinker. sips on scotch all day if he can. smokes heavy too. def tells you to slow down and drink some water unless you wanna end up with a hangover tomorrow. he lets you smother his face with drunken kisses in front of everyone. doesn't gaf. if you're happy he's happy.

simon doesn't let you drink certain things. doesn't drink if yall are out in public either. someone's gotta keep you safe. he'll have a pint at most. but when yall come home post date, he breaks out his favorite kentucky and has you sit on your lap. watches the way you talk with your hands while slurring out a story he cannot understand but it's important he hears it so he's not interrupting you. water. tylenol.

edit: stfu not every day after work! i love you! 😭 i'm sorry i've been mia but i got something in the works that started as asshole simon that turned into he's fucking rude but also kinda slick with it so ig i'll let him in my pants and at least reader isn't a complete doormat just sorta kinda otherwise it'd be just kidnapping lmfao like unhand me sir!

[beepboopkek]

— Hidden Surprises (F!Reader)

Including: Kamisato Ayato x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted on both tumblr and ao3 cw: !! NSFW !!, afab!reader, established relationship, bottom!sub!reader, top!dom!ayato, fluff and smut, pwp but barely, smacking (paddle), lots of teasing/flirting/kissing, mirror s3x, cursing, d1rty talk, like one sentence of n1pple play, cl1t smacks (only a few), slight dom/sub undertones, implied dom drop from ayato, mayb a little unrealistic s3x idk, AFTERCARE!!!! w/c: approx 2.8k words, might change since i make edits while posting a/n: after 8 goddamn drafts of this fic i managed to finally finish it,, im like at a 50/50 opinion on this but honestly i jsu wanted to get the brainrot out of my system... sorry for the long absence :sob:.. also i tried changing up my writing style a little, id love any form of feedback so feel free to leave a comment :D NSFW BELOW THE CUT

The evening air was crisp as you gently swirled the Sake in your cup, eyeing your husband over the rim as he sat beside you. The Yashiro Commissioner was poised and perfect as always— his hair neatly tied over his shoulder with a ribbon that matched his usual outfit. Your gaze travelled the expanse of his torso, unconsciously lingering on his hands as he kept them folded on the table. “You've been staring for a while.” Ayato’s voice broke you out of your thoughts as your eyes met his violet ones and you smiled.

“Oh, don't mind me. I’m simply admiring the view.” Your voice had a teasing lilt as you replied, still boring your eyes into his as you took another sip of your drink.

Ayato simply raised a brow at you, before moving his curious gaze to the half-empty bottle of Sake left beside you— immediately bringing out a hand to drag the bottle away from your reach.

“Hey! I was drinking that—!” You tried to snatch back the bottle like a cat that got its toy taken away but unfortunately for you, Ayato was too fast.

“Oh, I know.” Your husband only infuriatingly smiled back at you, relishing in the adorable pout on your face as you folded your arms in annoyance.

“I apologise, I want you to be somewhat sober tonight.” 

You gasped, placing a hand on your chest, and giving him an offended look.

“I am sober! I only had two glasses.”

“Mhmm. Whatever you say.” 

“Why do you need me to be sober anyway?”

Ayato leaned towards you, resting his hand on a closed palm. He tilted his head and looked at you with nothing short of pure adoration before saying, “I have a surprise for you.”

This time, it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. You mimicked his position (albeit with less elegance) as you tried to make the mental calculations to discern what this “surprise” could be.

Ayato and the word “surprise” never really mixed well for you. The last time he had a "surprise," it involved a strange hotpot that left you feeling queasy for days.

Ah.

Bingo.

“If it's another one of your horrible food concoctions, count me out.”

Ayato chuckled, a wide smile spreading across his face as he shook his head lightly. “Hehe, not to worry, dear. It's something you'll like.”

You would never admit it, but the two glasses of Sake did, in fact, put your mind in a pleasant buzz. You were never a good drinker to begin with so maybe it was good that your husband had confiscated your wine before you went overboard.

Well, that certainly wasn't going to stop you from teasing him, though.

You gave Ayato a languid gaze as you reached out a hand to twirl soft baby blue strands between your fingers, feeling his eyes on you as you brought his hair towards your lips, leaning in to give the strands a chaste kiss. You could feel Ayato’s breath hitch at the blatant display of public affection, which you didn't do very often.

“ … Tell me what it is then.”

Ayato recovered quickly, pulling back his face of smug satisfaction as he smiled.

“Well, it wouldn't be much of a surprise then, would it?”

You pouted at him again and he only chuckled in response, giving you a coy smile.

Two can play that game.

You surveyed your surroundings before deducing that no one would catch you and a mischievous smile coiled on your face as you observed your husband suddenly stuck in conversation with someone seated in front of the two of you.

You quietly praised each archon for giving you this golden opportunity as the perfect distraction appeared without any effort on your part. 

You reached out to place your hand on his knee under the table, pretending to swirl the non-existent wine in your cup with the other so that no one would suspect a thing.

Ayato's eyes flickered to yours for a split second before continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened.

You smiled to yourself as you began to stroke the inside of his thigh with your thumb, inching your hand higher and higher.

He'd never admit it, but you could feel the way his leg shook ever so slightly at the intimate contact.

You kept your hand stationed there for the short duration of the commissioner’s conversation, cheekily observing the light dust of red that had covered the high rise of his cheeks (which he would later blame on the alcohol).

You're broken out of your giddy stupor when you feel a larger hand on yours, stopping all motion as he gripped your hand tightly before passing you a faux smile and turning back to excuse the two of you.

Rascal.

“I apologise, my wife seems to be getting tired.”

You looked at the guest and gave him an apologetic smile although you were anything but that.

The both of you quickly bid your goodbyes to more guests as you made your way out, your husband almost dragging you by the hand.

While the Yashiro Commissioner looked just about normal to everyone, you could see the impatient jitter in his steps, the flush down his neck and the slightly hurried hush in his voice as he navigated the two of you through the crowd.

Right as you were about to board the carriage to make your way back up to the Kamisato estate, Ayato pulled you against his chest to whisper into your ear—

“I'm going to ruin you tonight.”

…

Ayato kept a firm hand on your thigh the entire ride back, occasionally squeezing it while conversing with you as if nothing was happening.

As if he didn't make your entire body shudder with just a sentence.

As soon as the two of you entered the privacy of your shared room, Ayato covered your eyes with his hands and instructed you to keep them closed until he asked you to open them again while he helped you out of your outfit, both of you giggling at your unstable movements from being temporarily blinded.

Which landed you here, stark naked and seated on the edge of the bed waiting for your husband late into the night. Your eyes were screwed shut as he shuffled around the room before quietly helping you up and settling you on his lap— his slender hands squeezing around your body as he leaned in to nibble the shell of your ear. He moved his hands to your belly before dipping his hands in between and prying your legs apart with a gentle insistence that had you murmuring his name in half-hearted protest.

“Open your eyes.”

You did just that, adjusting to the sudden brightness as you took in the sight before you.

A large rectangular mirror with an ornate gold frame with the Kamisato crest on the top, set on the wall in front of your bed. 

You observed your reflection in the mirror with shallow breaths, the golden lamps doused the room in a soft glow as you shivered, your husband's hands still placed between your thighs, keeping them apart.

Archons.

Your eyes met Ayato's observant gaze in the mirror as he spoke again, "Well, what do you think?"

“ … It's beautiful.”

Ayato smiled against your ear, kissing the side of your head affectionately.

“I knew you would like it.” Your breath hitched in embarrassment as your gaze travelled the entire expanse of the mirror, your ears burning with the overwhelming urge to hide. You could see every inch of your exposed body reflected at you, making your heart race.

“But, why—”

His hands remained steady on your thighs, grounding you as he squeezed them again and cut you off with a kiss to the side of your neck as he looked at you through the mirror. “I want you to see how mesmerising you look.”

His hands travelled along the outline of your torso as you waited for him to continue, “I want you to see what I see.” That's when his left hand reached back onto the bed, fumbling momentarily before he brought something forward. You glanced down, curiosity piqued, and saw that he held a— Oh.“I thought you’d be more romantic with your surprise.” A paddle. With a tiny heart cut out in the middle of it. “Well, I’ve always believed in doing things in a more unorthodox way.” The mischievous glint in his eye told you there was more to this. Ayato’s hand, which was still on your thigh, pulled it back a little further. He gently swept the paddle against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the polished wood providing a smooth glide. “The rules are simple,”

You tore your eyes from the mirror to glance to your side when he raised the paddle a little, striking down on your thigh. You jolted in surprise as you immediately felt his hand rub the irritated skin softly. “One, do not look away from the mirror.” Ayato’s finger traced the heart imprint left on your thigh as he continued, “— and two, do not close your eyes.” Ayato’s hands traced the outline of your body as he silently awaited your consent. The silence was that of comfort, you felt relaxed knowing you could opt out of this at any moment and your husband wouldn’t hold it against you. You smirked. “… Ruin me, Commissioner.” You felt a sharp exhale on your shoulder as Ayato’s hands moved with renewed purpose all over your body. You felt his hand creep towards your chest, fondling one side as he tweaked the nipple between his fingers, your low moans now filling the room. He latched his lips onto the column of your neck as he begrudgingly left your chest to trail his hand towards your clit. His other hand was still holding onto the paddle that rested against your thigh, unmoving and unfaltering in making its presence known. A wave of relief washed over you as his fingers made contact with your clit, your eyes closed in pure bliss as you moaned in pleasure, locking your hands behind his neck and— A smack to the inside of your thigh snapped your eyes right back open in shock. Oh. Right.“Eyes on the mirror.” You nodded fervently as Ayato went back to toying with your clit, drawing sticky sweet circles as his sharp gaze stayed glued to your body through the mirror. You glanced down to your thighs in the mirror to see a red imprint of the paddle on your skin and looked back up to meet Ayato’s heated gaze, a coy smirk playing into his voice as he spoke again. “Enjoy the show, dear.” Ayato slid his now wet middle and ring finger down, dipping the tips inside you as you shook in anticipation. His hand flexed as he moved his fingers deeper, lightly thrusting them in and out as he searched for your sensitive spots with experienced precision.

“All that bravado in the evening, where is it now?” 

He ground his palm into your clit as he pushed his fingers to the knuckle— Your moans mingling with his heavy breaths. You pushed yourself back against his chest in hopes of alleviating some of the tension in his pants.

His voice was breathless as he spoke in your ear, 

“Do you like it when I do this?” and he curled his fingers inside you, making you moan again.

Maybe it was the whole evening of teasing that got you to the cusp of an orgasm so soon but, it was quickly becoming too much. Ayato's skilled hands proved to be too deadly for you— making you close your eyes and lean your head back onto his shoulder as you moaned.

Smack!

Eyes opened wide, you jolted back up and your orgasm washed over you immediately as Ayato continued to pump his fingers in and out to help you ride it out.

“Fuck—”

You panted, struggling to keep your eyes open. Ayato stilled as his left hand let go of the paddle to grab your chin, forcing you to look sideways as he kissed you deeply.

Your lips parted with his as you both caught your breath— your husband gently removing his fingers from you and wiping them onto the cloth laid next to him.

Ayato moved you a little forward as he unzipped his pants, pulling his cock from underneath you so that it poked out between your soft thighs.

Archons, he could get used to this view.

He wanted to make you wait, wanted to edge you until you were begging for him, tears sticking to your clumped lashes as you pouted at him, whining and writhing in his hold as he kept your pleasure from you. 

But he couldn't.

He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

He aligned himself with you, slowly pushing in as you both moaned in relief.

Ayato curled a hand around your waist to hold you in place as he set a rhythm of short and quick thrusts, latching his mouth onto your neck again as he bit down to stifle his moans.

“Ayato, please-” 

A resonant smack to your sensitive nipple is all that you get in response as you immediately plaster your eyes back on the mirror.

— and archons was it a sight, your bodies were covered in a thin sheen of sweat as red-purple imprints of the paddle were littered across the expanse of your soft skin, little bruises blossoming on both sides of your neck, your hair stuck to your forehead as you writhed in your spot, aching to find release again.

The hand curled around your waist twisted downwards to play with your clit as you sighed in pure bliss before you abruptly felt his hand moving away and a series of smacks on your sensitive nerves.

Fuck. You didn't even notice you stopped looking at the mirror.

He unlatched himself from your neck, leaving deep imprints of his teeth as he raised his head to pull at your earlobe with his teeth.

“You know I don't like repeating myself.”

Tears clung to your eyes as your body buzzed through the different sensations of pain and pleasure, the thought of disappointing your husband sitting heavy in your throat as you swallowed down your complaints.

His pace grew erratic as you held onto him, heavy moans mingling with his silent ones as tears slipped from your eyes.

“Come with me.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as Ayato spoke into your ear. You barely registered the tip of the paddle hitting your clit again or how your husband pulled out just in time to finish on your lower back— your legs trembling as you clenched around nothing.

Holy shit.

Ayato detached himself from you, flipping you over so that you were laid flat on the bed on your stomach as you caught your breath. He took the washcloth he had set up earlier to clean you off a little before helping you up and lifting you to prepare a bath.

You were floating, you weren't sure how much time had passed when you came to but you were (yet again) seated in your husband’s lap as he gently massaged your stiff shoulders, waiting for you to regain your senses. “ … Hi.” You spoke as you turned your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss. “Hello.” You got up on shaking limbs, turning your body over so that you were straddling his legs. Ayato looked at you questioningly, tilting his head. You simply kissed the mole under his lip as you replied, “I wanted to see your face.”

“Oh? Did you miss me?”

You kissed the tip of his nose this time, “Yes.” 

He smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkling as his gaze lingered on all the hickeys he had left, his face dropping a little.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great. A little sore but I'll be fine.”

You leaned down to kiss the mole on his collarbone, lingering there to leave a love bite of your own.

There was a pause, you knew this was when he would start questioning himself.

“Was I—?”

Before he could finish his question, you captured his lips in a soft kiss, caressing the back of his head with your hands as you gently massage it.

“No. It was perfect. In every sense of the word, I enjoyed it.”

Ayato smiled at you again.

There was a comfortable silence after that, the both of you taking turns to wash out each other's hair and backs, sneaking small kisses in between as you giggled.

You dried each other off before your husband laid you down on the bed, procuring an ointment seemingly out of nowhere as he applied it to the bruises on your thighs.

You laid down on the soft sheets and felt the energy drain from your bones, giving Ayato one last peck on the lips before you drifted off to sleep.

“I love you.”

He kissed the top of your head lovingly, and if you were any more tired, you would've missed his response.

“I find myself falling for you more and more every single day. Goodnight, dear.”

[dendro-bunny]

My Only Star

Xavier x (fem) Reader

Genre: Hurt to comfort, fluffy but angsty

Synopsis: He’s an attractive guy, so it’s only natural that he would get a lot of attention. You know he prefers to be incognito, yet that voice in your head is loud and can’t be ignored.

Warnings: Anxiety, body dysmorphia, Jealousy, Depressive thoughts, FLUFFY ENDING I PROMISE

(A/n): hhhhh my bias wrecker. ISTG THAT BUNNY MEMORY HAD ME SQUEALINGDNKAVDKSBD, Also I saw someone say that my last fic made them feel beautiful. YOU ALL ARE BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE YOU AND I FEEL LIKE IM WORTH SOMETHING CAUSE YOU READ AND LIKE MY FICS JDHAHAJVDJA. Anyway TO THE FIC!

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The sound of your shoes hitting the ground is muffled by the harsh rain. Your pace isn’t slow, but you can’t find the strength to run. The rain doesn’t bother you. It hides the constant flow of tears going down your face.

You know you shouldn’t feel like this. You know it’s stupid. You know he thinks you’re stupid for acting like this. Yet every bone in your body aches with sadness. Because it’s not fair. It’s not right. You were standing right there and it still happened again.

You look across the table at your wonderful hunting partner and boyfriend. You see he begins to doze off again.

“Sorry babe am I boring you?” You give him a cheeky smile. Xavier jolts awake and gives a tired smile.

“It’s not you. I was up late for a job and hadn’t had much sleep. Not to mention rain always makes me sleepy.” He gives a big yawn and rubs his eyes. He picks you hand up and gives it a soft kiss. You feel you face start to heat up.

“Just know, you could never bore me. I sleep easier at your side not because you’re boring but because yours soothing. And I-” He’s interrupted by the waitress coming over with a drink in her hand, menus in the other.

“Hi sorry for the wait, this drink was sent by the lady at the bar over there, in the green. And what can I get you started with today.” You can tell she’s nervous when putting the drink down especially when she sees you hand slink back to your side of the table.

Xavier has an unreadable expression. His eyes locked on the cup then on you. Then he looks over to the bar with his eyebrows furrowed. You turn over slowly fearing the worse.

And your fears come true, she’s gorgeous… From her hair to her heels she’s perfect. Poised and graceful. You can tell by just the way she laughs with the bartender that she’s outgoing. Her body was everything you wish yours was. Ofc she took interest in Xavier they would be perfect together…

“Babe… Babe.” Xavier speaks firmly snapping you back to reality. He gives a concerned look. “Are you ok? It’s your turn to order.” He fiddles with his fingers nervously wondering what is going on in your head.

“Uh- Sorry the game was on the tv over there . Heh, got distracted.” You manage to play it off and order normally. You’re able to push away the thoughts for a second. As the waitress walks away you turn to you hunter boyfriend.

“Are… you going to drink that? Yk, the… gift.” It’s your turn to fiddle as you stare at him with pursed lips.

“Uhm I wasn’t planning on it. Yk I’m not much of a drinker outside of our home.” He gives you a questioning look.

“But… I don’t know what to do with it… I don’t want to be rude…” He really seems deep in thought about it.

You give a small sigh of relief, that immediately gets sucked back in with a gasp and the green dressed lady stands in front of your table.

“Hello cutie… and girl…” she gives you a side eye “I see you’ve got my gift! Why don’t you come to the bar and drink it with me. We don’t want it to go to waste, plus I’m sure sucks in the mud like your friend here don’t party well.” She completely ignores you for him. Giving you snide snarky remarks. You hear giggles at the bar and see similar dressed women in different colors looking over at your boyfriend.

“We’re actually dating.” He says bluntly.

“I’m sure she won’t mind if you have fun. What kind of girlfriend would she be?” She tilts her head and the strap of her dress falls down her shoulder.

You feel your breath picking up, your jaw begins to hurt from holding your tears back. Your hands shake and tremble with every thought.

This is the part he leaves you.

It gonna happen eventually why not now.

He’s too good for you. They are perfect together.

How could you actually believe he would love you when people like her exist.

You stand up and bolt for the door. Xavier’s calls fall deaf on your ears. Only the bell of the restaurant’s door is heard as you speed to the nearest train station. Which is where you are now. At least you’re out of the rain in the underground station. You can feel the pneumonia seeping into your bones. That feeling is none compared to the heart ache you feel. He hadn’t even chased after you. He probably is with her right now.

You rub your shoulders to shake off the cold. Then you feel a warmth cloth being set on your shoulders. You look at see ash blond hair and blue nebula eyes staring at you.

“I was looking all over for you… I didn’t see where you went cause our food came and I knew you would be hungry so I asked for to-go plates.” You look and see the bag in his hands. You turn back to face the train and stare ahead. Your eyes sore and dry from all the tears ripped from your tear ducts.

“Did you think she was pretty… Of course you did… how couldn’t you. I mean look at her, not a strand of hair out of place. I wish I had her body…” You brush your hair out of your face as it sticks to you. You’re soaked and couldn’t care less about the fact you look like a drowned rat.

“She was perfect, you would be nice together-“ you speech is ended by his lips crashing into yours. Normally is kisses are chaste and soft, conveying is endless patience and care for you. But this kiss of full of unconditional love and all the words of assurance you could ever get. He’s not the best with words he knows that. But today he’s willing to try.

“Fuck her. Not literally like I wanna fuck her. I- hhh I mean to hell with her. I don’t want to spend my entire existence with some girl who throws herself at every attractive man she sees.” His motions to towards the restaurant. You can see he’s struggling with how to convey how he feels. He collects his thoughts and speaks again.

“I don’t want to be with someone who only looks at me from the outside. I want you.” He cups your face.”

“I only want you. Out of all the stars in the sky you shine the brightest. Because you’re my star. My only star. The perfect laugh, the perfect body, the perfect personality, the perfect smile, the perfect heart. You are my one and only perfect star.” He gives you the most passionate kiss he can muster. Hoping you reciprocate it.

When you do he relaxes in the kiss. You begin to sob into his chest with you pull away. Apologizing for ruining the night. Him insisting that it wasn’t you how ruined the night.

“How about we go home, I’d much rather be there than some restaurant and bar. Plus I’m tired of people hitting on us.” You give him a questioning look.

“Oh when you left the bar. Some guy asked if you were single now and I punched him in the throat… which is also why I took so long and we’re- I’m not allowed back at the restaurant.” He gives you an awkward smile.

You begin to bend over laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “You’re not the type to punch someone!”

“He was just unlucky, I wanted to punch something and he spoke last. Honestly he had it coming.” You laugh harder and in your laughter you miss the way he gives you a soft smile.

How could you not know he’s beyond whipped for you. He would transcend space and time just to be with you in the next life… like he has before. 

He’ll do it again.

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It’s 4:30 am as I’m finishing this. What did I say about bias wrecker?! HELLO SIR GET OUT MY HEAD!

Guys understand something though you are not your body, or looks. You are a person with feeling and emotions and every feeling you experience is valid and someone has felt something similar to. And I love you for who you are and what you could be. Not what you were and what you aren’t 🫶

[creaturecomfxrts]

Dipper and Mabel pines headcanons?

FINALLY getting around to answering these! since im better at them, heres some college age headcanons that apply just as much to how i view them in the show!

DIPPER PINES

transmasc. duh. of course

parents are INCREDIBLY supportive, super understanding. hes on hormone blockers in the show and starts HRT as soon as hes able, getting top surgery and bottom surgery in his early 20s

bisexual! ran into a guy junior year of highschool and went oh GOD. this is wendy 2.0 im going to die

NERD.

LOVES board games. so much. not just dungeons and dragons and monopoly im talkin everdell, wingspan, cascadia, catan. he loves a good think. he also loves dragging everyone else into playing them with him. he always wins. almost always, anyway

absolutely adores college and everything about it hes a little freak. totally ends up being the president of a few clubs, co creating some, etc. made an occult club AND a hiking club at his college

loves doodling, loves horror. his teachers? not so much. they try not to look at the weird ass creatures he draws on the margins of his very well written homework.

probably goes into something smart. like biochem. or um. stem. im (author) is a liberal arts major all i do is write gay fanfiction.

PSYCHOTIC ASS DORM ROOM. he barely decorated it like a classic college male but has a conspiracy board and thats it. which is full of strange shit hes seen outside of gravity falls. to be fair its very well documented and somewhat neat, just…. strange decor. he lives in a single (introvert)

COVERED in tattoos, but always abides by the suit rule (all tattoos need to be able to be covered by a suit to be professional. he knows this bc hes a neerrrrddd). he has really sick sleeves of runes and other occult like things hes found interesting. he has cipher related tattoos as well and also even got ford to design a few.

he has PROMINENT eye bags. he will never fix his sleep schedule

ended up working as a summer camp counselor for a while right outside if gravity falls! the kids loved him but he couldnt stand the heat and bugs all the time so he only did it for a summer or two

even after turning 21 he doesnt actually drink that much, hes a craft beer enjoyer and likes to make it himelf (Much later in life)

ALWAYS stays in touch with mabel. if anything happens in either of their lives you better BELIEVE theyre already on the phone with eachother

medical marijuana card holder

smokes to help eith his anxiety. it works WONDERS

coffee drinker but actually Does put cream and sugar is coffee. sometimes. other times hes too tired and just thugs it out

MABEL PINES

THE number one it girl ever

NUMBER ONE TRANS ALLY EVERRRRRR she loves her brother so much

pansexual!! she loves cool people, thats her motto

went to a fashion design school, is loving it despite drowning in work

began dying her hair in cool ways through highschool, now she always has some of her natural color present but goes a little crazy on the highlights

found out about huge dangley joke earrings. went absolutely crazy. has an entire space on her desk dedicated to her many many earrings. she has babies, knives, bags of doritos, aliens, glow in the dark ones, anything you could imagine.

fantastic at fashion design. stuggled a lot with the fancier stuff but her teachers were floored when they let her go wild on casual comfy wear. she excells in combining fashion and comfort in really exciting and colorful ways.

a party girl through and through, loves clubs, raves, concerts, anything!

video game lover as well, cracked at pvp games.

still boy crazy, just less so (has had like. 10 college boyfriends)

literally the sweetest friend ever. she loves hosting movie nights and tea parties (bc who wouldnt. theyre awesome)

tea drinker, loves floral teas with honey

HATES. black coffee. a starbucks frap girlie 4ever

has been scouted for modeing multiple times and only accepted when it was a commercial with puppies

love love loves making friendshio bracelets. knows all the patterns, all of her friends have a hefty amount of a bunch of different ones because she just keeps making them

anywwy, here you go! i love these two so much, i hope ive done them justice!

[jacaerysgf]

Flowers | The Series | Chapter Six | Odd

Summary | You have a very… Odd? Second morning. You didnt think it was possible to get anymore unbelievable than yesterday. But it had.

Pairing | Jacaerys x Fem!Reader

Warnings | not proofread, shorter and jacaerys-less chapter (im sorry next chapter with be his pov so don't worry!)

Word Count | 1.4k

Series Masterlist

The next morning you're sitting across from your mother at breakfast who's insistent you two wait for your father. "Mother im hungry." She glares, "He'll be here any minute." You groan and lean back, "Oh sit up properly its unladylike." You readjusted yourself as your father bursts through the door with a frantic look.

"Dear whats wrong?" Your father sits and downs a cup of wine. Hes not a morning drinker or even really a drinker at all, you begin to worry. "Father-" "I was approached by joffery this morning asking for permission to court you." Your mother gasps before smiling, "Oh this is wonderful."

You however cannot believe what you're hearing, Courtship? With you? You liked him sure, he was much nicer and much better to look at than most of the men in court but a courtship with him? you had only met him last night. "Did you give your approval?" "Of course he did sweetheart. Right dear?" Your father chugs another glass, "Yes." He's acting odd. Its all you can think about as your mother goes on and on about how wonderful this is how beautiful the vale is.

You can only look at your father as he has an odd look. you place a hand on his arm and his eyes turn to you. Noticing your worried face he places a hand on yours and squeezes it, He smiles, if you didn't know him as well as you did you would believe it to be a true one but you can tell it doesn't reach his eyes.

A knock on the door spares him your questioning as he goes to answer it, He comes back quickly and ushers you over, you move towards the door and are shocked by the sight,

"Ser joffery?" He stands there with a smile and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. "Good day my lady." "Good day ser...." Your words come out slow and rough as you stare at the bouquet in his hands. He sees your eyeing it and smiles, "For you my lady, a beautiful bouquet for a beautiful lady."

You don't want to take it but you do. A large bouquet of red dahlia's. You hope they mean the positive as you hope for all flowers but the negative rings in the back of your head especially after seeing your fathers reaction to jofferys courtship. Dishonesty. You feel sick looking at them but you force a smie anyways and take them, forcing out a thank you.

You move back into the room and place them in an empty vase as your mother invites him in. "Please come in! Have you eaten yet we were about to begin, join us." He smiles and shakes his head. "I apologize i have just eaten, though i hope i can take you up on that offer one day." Your mother laughs and nods, your father stands at the far end of the room, his face unreadable. You walk over to him as he turns away to face the dresser and your wrap your arms around him.

His tense body relaxes as he sighs and turns around with your arms still trapped around him and he gives you a smile. A real one. He kisses you on the forehead and moves to join your mother who's chatting with joffery. You want to ask him a million questions but you know nows not the time. "I was just about to ask if the lady would like to join me in the training grounds and watch me." You snap back into resisting at the request. Its an odd request, there are not many fighters at your home and if they are they are just passing through for the night.

"Ive always been curious about swortfighting Ser joffery, id love to join you." He smiles at you, "Wonderful, I will come collect you some time later." You nod and smile. He says some parting words and leaves not before kissing your hands as he leaves.

"What a charming young man." You can't help but agree, its true he is charming and handsome though you are more inclined to think prince jacaerys is more attractive.

You feel sick as you think about him but you have to shake off the thoughts. It will never amount to anything so you must let him go.

Does the prince train? Maybe you will see him there. You hope not, or maybe you do.

--

Tags; @elissanatok

[quaranmine]

i may. be drunk now

anyway i wrote 1700 words so far and i dont think the quality is effected in the slightest i think it's actually, perhaps, better?

my plan tomorrow: watch decked out vods during work bc it's probably gonna be slow. make myself food in my crockpot for dinner assuming i did indeed get all my ingredients i needed the last time i went shopping. make myself....some sort of alcoholic drink. sit down at my computer and spend the rest of the evening fully rewriting That Scene in firewatch au

[mountainsabandonedshoes]

papa headcannons

primo-

he loves earth and water ghouls

he has a massive tea collection

hes all about herbal medicine

he can give a wicked massage

doesn't like fire ghouls much because they keep burning his plants

refuses to acknowledge technology unless it helps him with gardening

secondo-

hes honestly not that much of an asshole, he just has resting im gonna kill you face

black coffee drinker

loves vampire romance

loves old romance movies

thinks phones are stupid but owns one anyway

terzo-

fashion gay

that one middle aged dude having a mid life crisis in a bar while drinking the most glamorous fruity cocktail

loves big ghouls

owns a flip phone

copia-

owns a gosig råtta

plays animal crossing

enjoys horror novels

doesn't understand how laptops work

can barely work a phone

nihil can continue being dead, he is not involved in this

[mins-fins]

JUST A LITTLE BIT — ZHANG HAO

⊹ ˚. synopsis: note for next time, never let zhang hao drink too much.

⊹ ˚. pairing: zhang hao x m!reader

⊹ ˚. genre: fluff, crack

⊹ ˚. warnings: mentions of drinking, very much corny gay people, simply zb1 hyung line being idiots

⊹ ˚. word count: 1.1k

⊹ ˚. notes: I HAVE A HAO PC AND YOU DONT LOSER 🤣🫵!! just kidding pls dont unfollow me i need the clout 😞 anyway i DO NOT drink at all so if the depiction of drunk people in this is not how they actually are, sorry? i will never touch alcohol im sorry

⊹ ˚. this is for jj (@junjiie) because tbf i kinda owe it to him after pulling his bias (sorry bestie westie ily tho)

"what the fuck is zhang hao doing?"

zhang hao is not a heavy drinker, he doesn't enjoy drinking as much as his partner does, and he made that very clear when hanbin suggested celebratory drinks in the first place. he said, and i quote; "i'm not gonna drink that much, i don't even like alcohol that much".

look at where he's ended up now.

to be fair, y/n is surprised. usually, he's the one embarrassingly drunk and zhang hao's the one having to make sure he doesn't accidentally kill himself. he remembers that one story zhang hao told him where he almost drank bleach because he legitimately thought it was milk.

but today it seems like the rolls have reversed.

zhang hao is like.. super drunk, in an almost insane manner. for the past twenty minutes he's been doing and saying the absolute stupidest things, whether its loudly singing their debut song or abusing jiwoong.

to say the members are.. shocked is a large understatement. seeing zhang hao drink so much and act in such a not like him manner not only shocks them, but it also humors them too.

"oh, god i have never seen him this drunk before".

"your telling me, i'm his boyfriend, i never ever see him drunk".

zhang hao giggles and snorts, kicking jiwoong in the back of his leg as he falls over on the couch, dying from a random joke jiwoong told like half an hour ago, but his mind is too fuzzy for him to remember that.

the second eldest hums, stopping his giggles as he turns around and strolls y/n's way, stumbling as he makes his way to his partner. "hi" he snorts, hiccuping, he almost trips and y/n reaches over to grab him, standing him back upright.

"hello" he smiles simply. he's a little drunk, not so drunk that he's stumbling and red faced like zhang hao. the older stares for a moment, and then he smiles widely.

"your very pretty" he states, rocking back and forth on his heels as he smiles like a teenager giddy about their crush. he giggles like a little kid, grabbing y/n's hands and beginning to swing them back and forth. "like very gorgeous man".

"really? well, your prettier" y/n replies, and zhang hao giggles like a little kid once again. taerae pretends to vomit on the other side of the room, disgusted by this couple-y behavior.

"your cute, i'm cute, i have the feeling we'd look very good together" he laughs, biting his lower lip to suppress a smile. suddenly, his eyes light up as he thinks of a brilliant idea.

yeah "brilliant".

"just a question" he starts, batting his eyelashes dramatically. "do you happen to be single?" zhang hao inquires, scooting closer to the boy until their shoulders knocked together.

"oh no, i actually have a boyfriend".

now listen, y/n thought it would've been funny to mess with zhang hao, it's a thing a two of them always do. sometimes when he was drunk, he'll forget he's dating zhang hao himself, and the older will just mess with him for fun. but what he doesn't expect, is for zhang hao's smile to drop.

"oh, you do?" zhang hao frowns, his voice lowers in a way that makes him sound sad. he slowly steps away from y/n, looking uncomfortable.

matthew blinks, observing the situation. hanbin narrows his eyes in confusion, taerae chuckles at his sudden attitude change, and jiwoong simply shakes his head as he watches zhang hao step away.

zhang hao stays silent for a moment, a sad yet panicked expression written on his face, as if he'd just done something wrong.

just as y/n was about to ask what's wrong, zhang hao turns to him and bows his head.

"i'm so sorry for flirting with you!"

"what!?" matthew exclaims, startling hanbin, who was just about to drift off to sleep. taerae stares, then just begins giggling like an idiot, the alcohol getting to him.

y/n is taken aback. "wait no that's not—"

"i didn't know you were taken i'm so sorry" he apologizes again. "your boyfriend must be a really great person i'm so sorry for what i did" the words spill out of his mouth so quickly they simply blur together into nonsense, his head bowed so low that it was basically touching the ground.

"no no no it's alright" y/n panics, placing his hands on his boyfriends shoulder and pulling him to stand upright. "no need to apologize" he says, taking zhang hao's face and caressing his cheek as well as fixing his messy hair.

for some reason, that action must've had quite the affect on zhang hao, because he started bawling his eyes out.

"what— why are you crying!?" y/n exclaims, panicked by his boyfriends outburst.

he sniffles, bringing his hand up to wipe his nose before bursting into tears again upon making eye contact with y/n.

"he's taken" zhang hao sobs, eyes shut as tears dramatically fall down his cheeks.

without any warning, taerae fell over and began dying of laughter. giggles escaped matthew's lips as he watched zhang hao cry over his own boyfriend, and jiwoong tries his best to not burst into laughter.

"you three! don't laugh!" hanbin scolded, slapping both matthew and taerae on the back. he hurriedly rushes to zhang hao's side, wrapping an arm around him. "there there hao hao".

hanbin offers him a tissue, watching as zhang hao blows his nose as he rubs his hand up and down his back, he's trying his best not to laugh out loud as y/n stands there in panic.

"he's taken" zhang hao pouts, tears still falling from his eyes as he turns to hanbin, who, in response, lets out a small giggle.

"hanbin!?"

"sorry sorry" hanbin giggles again, but he then manages to stifle them, patting zhang hao's head. "don't cry hao-hyung, he's still very into you".

y/n stands there, feeling a little awkward. zhang hao sniffles again and turns to y/n, blinking as he stares at him. he stares for a specifically long time before walking up to him and pulling him into a hug.

"i hope your boyfriend doesn't mind this" he mutters into y/n's shirt, wiping his remaining tears on it.

y/n chuckles, running a hand up and down zhang hao's back. "no i don't think he'll mind" he says as he laughs, and zhang hao hums, pulling away to look up.

"has anyone ever told you that your very pretty?" he asks, emphasizing the 'very'. "i would kiss you but you have a boyfriend" he smiles, snorting once again.

"you are my boyfriend, silly".

"hah, funny joke".

zhang hao snorts once again, resting his head on y/n's chest. "you are very pretty".

"as you've said before".

"okay, continue lying pretty men".

y/n notes one thing from this interaction.

never let zhang hao drink too much.