#mentions of alcohol? kinda

[salamispots]

making a little comic with the little sea angel/sea butterfly friends 👀

+ some sketches when I went to the aquarium (again hhsh)

[flowers-for-the-grave]

Herons Aren't Lightweights

The Herons base was rowdy at night.

They all gathered together, tankards of beer in hand, drinking like there was no tomorrow. There may as well not have been to them.

Cleo continued brewing up drinks, adding input to the conversations going on around her.

Scott was up on the stage with Christian, asking questions in a hushed tone, yet somehow she could still hear the slur in his voice.

Eloise sat with Water, both singing somewhat poorly to bar songs and the made-up anthem of the Herons. Olive sat beside them, joining in every now and then but mostly just working on tuning their instrument.

Owen sat at one of the tables, head in his hands. He let out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut.

"Guys? I think someone needs to take Owen to bed." Cleo called out.

"Really? Already?" Olive asked. "We've only had...had..." Olive's eyes began to droop. They downed another drink. "We've only had, like, five drinks."

Water shrugged. "I can take him. Be back soon!" Water stood up, staggering a little, then approached Owen. "C'mon, let's go. You've had enough for tonight."

Owen only groaned weakly in protest.

Once Water had carried Owen out of the tavern, Cleo glanced over at Scott. He was still talking to Christian, and was gesticulating madly.

Olive and Eloise seemed distracted enough. They wouldn't mind if the next round of drinks didn't come for a bit.

Cleo carefully walked up to Scott, then paused a little behind him.

"What do I do? I- is there anything I can...do for him? I mean, we've just started talk...talking to each other again!"

Christian merely shrugged in response. "I am not sure. For now, give him some space and a little time. Eventually things between you will get easier."

Scott's ears flushed. "I don't have time to wait that long! What if one of us goes out on an expedition and never comes back? I may never get to see him again in time, and I don't want thing to be tense between us if and when that happens!" His voice rose in pitch and volume.

For a brief second, Eloise and Olive glanced his way. Then the two of them slowly turned back to each other and their drinks.

Cleo set her hand on Scott's shoulder. He spun around and grasped at the handle of his rapier, then let go when he saw it was her. "I think you should sit down now Scott. Give Christian a break."

He nodded meekly. "Yeah. Yeah, sure." Scott allowed Cleo to lead him to a seat at a table, then push him into it.

"Is it about Acho?"

Scott hesitated, then nodded. "I just...I just don't know what to do."

"Think about it in the morning. You're not thinking clearly right now. When you're sober, think about it then. For now, you can either keep drinking and drown your sorrows in alcohol, or you can take a rest like Owen. No shame in either option."

"Alcohol. Strong alcohol." He didn't stutter, and his voice was almost completely free of a slurred tone. Almost as if he hadn't had more drinks than most of the other Herons already.

"Sure?"

"Yes. I want you to give me so much alcohol that I can barely move around tomorrow. No, for the rest of the week."

Cleo sighed. It wasn't a good idea, but they were pirates.

Since when was anything they did a 'good idea'?

Olive let out a startled yelp, then a joyful squeal. "Cruppy! Hello!" Cruppy jumped at Olive's heels, rubbing against them and jumping like a puppy would. Olive bent down and stroked Cruppy, to which the crab-puppy-thing eagerly jumped into their lap for stroking convenience.

Smiling at the sight, Eloise was suddenly motivated to sing even louder and more joyfully than before. Olive joined in with equal vigour and Cruppy nestled in their lap peacefully.

Cleo shook her head with a warm grin, then grabbed the next round of drinks.

"To us!" She declared, holding her tankard tight and pushing it high into the air.

"To us!" The others parroted, with varying levels of volume and enthusiasm. Regardless, the sound could be heard well beyond the Herons' base and echoed through the town.

Water returned, arms free of Owen, and shouted, "To us!" at the top of her lungs. A delayed reaction, but a welcome one.

For the rest of the night, they all chanted the same thing over and over, falling asleep in the tavern.

They all regretted it in the morning.

But Herons weren't lightweights, and for some strange reason, they all wished to prove it.

[infraredss]

im like "SLUT ERA‼️ I want to MAKE OUT with women!" and then experience debilitating levels of homosexuality if a woman leans in close to me for any reason

[rambler-in-limbo]

What’s 80 been up to?

Well she’s been living with Savio ( @b00nk’s Peppino, go check her out I love my wife).

[dandyleyen]

my sillies and I were talking about the Homestuck characters we kin and why we relate, and then i got hit with THIS ?

Like,,, I was gagged. Like ????

AND THEN I got hit with THESE ???

I’m convinced they hate me .

I DON’T EVEN KIN ROXY ?

[hollowfaith]

「✧」 "Fancy meeting you here."

"I don't suppose you checked the dress code."

A wine festival at Star Trail had been cancelled today—on account of the strange grayscale plague suddenly settling over the city, which made not only the hosts too unmotivated to run any events, but also left all of the wines colorless and bland to the eye.

But a surprise revival happened that very afternoon, when a man tinged with light mauve suddenly threw a hefty donation of Dust at the organizers and opted to take over the event himself. Guests were rounded up, tickets paid, and a host of wine-tasters were soon mingling among themselves in shades of muted elegance on the street.

Until Aurelius spoke up.

The refined, muted palettes of the NPC guests naturally stopped what they were doing to see what was going on: their charming host had confronted another remarkably tall man among their midst, but one stained by the drabbest shade of brown in this party.

Their guest had a tall, lanky frame and dark, spiky hair. Perhaps he'd wandered here out of curiosity, attracted by the noise and colorful footprints on the ground. Perhaps he'd come on purpose for other reasons. In any case, Aurelius looked displeased to see him, so they echoed the view in kind, gazes filled with subtle mockery and laughter as they surrounded the duo in the center.

"At the very least..." the angel's eyes swept Vash from head to toe before he raised his glass of gray-hued wine. "You could do something about your hair."

And just like that, his hand tipped, pouring out the contents of an expensive 1982 Château Lafite all over the other's head.

@amoirsetpacis ໒꒱

[whumpbug]

okay okay okay so I held back on this one because I asked alternate already BUT. can you put Gene and Cassidy in a sci-fi story. what would they wear what are their roles do you have scene snippets or dialog? sci-fi is my favorite thing ever and as always feel free to ignore if this isn't the vibe!!! i love you bug /p!!!!!

OHOHOHOHOHHOH SETH I LOVE U /P

i am all for a sci-fi vibe. even if star wars is TECHNICALLY a space opera, i love love love the space setting and i would be DELIGHTED to talk about it.

im gonna word vomit on the page first and them ill try my hand at a few drabbles in this au. strap in for ANOTHER very long post. THANK U AGAIN SETH I LOVE UR ASKS I TRULY CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF THEM /GEN

okay so. since i'm only really well-versed in star wars sci-fi concepts, this is going to be a vaguely star wars inspired au but i'll try to phrase it in a way thats more applicable to sci-fi in General (its always so fun to translate their jobs and personalities into different settings)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

we'll start with gene. idk why but i'm getting very much a bounty hunter vibe from him. like someone who maybe works for a larger organization or guild hunting down notorious criminals (i mention that he works for an Entity bc i think its sort of important that he doesnt choose his bounties himself. he gets them assigned)

i think he would still do it out of a sense of responsibility because he doesn't think bad people should just be running around like that, but also because. a man's gotta make a living. he's gotta pay the bills.

i can see him having his own little ship that he practically lives out of considering how much he travels, and i feel like he'd get very attached to his ship (much like calliope. sorry calliope you've become a spaceship in this au)

OMG AND ALSO A THOUGHT IS BEING BEAMED INTO MY HEAD.

he wears a mask. you can't see his face when he's out doing jobs. he conceals his face, partially because he doesn't want people to see when hes scared or smug or anything like that and partially for the Swag.

that brings me to his overall outfit. i believe in my heart of hearts that gene would wear something like this (i wish i could credit the artist but i couldnt find it)

except instead of an entire helmet, it would be more of just a black piece of cloth pulled loosely over his mouth and nose. and im also seeing him in a very wide brimmed hat that he can tilt down to Brood pls tell me you guys see the vision.

he'd have a little revolver-looking blaster and knowing him, it'd be set to stun. i don't think he really enjoys bringing people in cold, and does his best to avoid it when he can

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

OK now onto cassidy. my beautiful darling boy silver. my sweetiepie.

it was kind of difficult to translate his profession into this setting because. it involves more people other than him.

ultimately i decided that, similar to the modern au, he is a part of an underground business, kind of like a rebellion of sorts, that fight against the injustices of the galaxy robin-hood style. of course, montana is the leader (unfortunately) and cassidy is essentially his right hand man

i can see cassidy traveling planet to planet, dismantling corrupt governments, providing for the needy, and having an absolute blast doing it, but his methods are. very illegal. and there is a growing bounty on his head.

nearly every major government wants specifically him locked away for life because of the destruction he's caused, and of course they hire the very best bounty hunter around to track him down.

and of course cassidy is a slippery fellow

cue their little cat and mouse thing they've got going on. gene wants to catch him because if he does, he'd practically be set for life. cassidy runs away because, well. he has a job to do. he can't get caught, especially by the weirdly attractive masked dude that talks to his spaceship.

and lastly, here is what i think cassidy's fit would vaguely look like:

he loves ponchos he can't help it. they're too comfy.

he too would have a little revolver-blaster thing and of course, his knife and hat. one thing that it different is the stolen jewelry. i decided that instead of stealing jewelry from the awful people, he takes mechanical/droid parts for his little buddy that he keeps around named SC-071-1 (haha. ahaha get it. please tell me someone gets it.)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

OK ONTO THE DRABBLES AND SNIPPETS! you get 3 because im feeling Generous /pos. here in the first little snippet for you. this is the two meeting in a bar and not wanting to make a scene (gene tracked him there) (i just wanted to write a silly tense scene)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Cassidy heard Gene before he saw him.

The man was always stomping around in a way no one could quite replicate. His footsteps were deliberate, cold, and unmistakable.

And they were right behind him.

The business end of a blaster was suddenly pressed into Cassidy's ribs and his mouth went dry.

"I'll have a Jet Juice. On the rocks."

Gene tossed the bartender a coin, to which he grumbled indignantly and began on the drink.

Cassidy risked a sideways glance at the bounty hunter. His expression was unreadable and hidden as always, and he didn't even turn to look at Cassidy. Instead, Gene leaned close and spoke lowly into his ear.

"Make a scene and you're dead. Try to run and you're dead. Turn on your comm and you're dead. Am I clear?"

Cassidy smirked, and mocked a salute. "Loud 'n clear, sir."

Gene gave a curt nod and turned to the bar. The bartender slid him his drink, which he downed in one go, and he was just about to order another when--

He sputtered when he felt something pressed into a certain.. important area. He blanched.

"Didn't say anything about fightin' fire with fire, did you, cowboy?" Cassidy grinned. The sight of the big bad bounty hunter squirming because his family jewels were threatened never got old.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

DRABBLE 2 HERE WE GO. this one is gene finding cassidy after a mission gone sour. cassidy was effectively abandoned by montana with the promise that he would come back for him.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The whole mission was a bust from the beginning.

Cassidy should have known. He had a gut feeling-- that it was some sort of trap specifically designed for the organization. When he brought it up to Montana, he said that it was just Cassidy being paranoid. And, of course, he believed him. He always did

And now, there he was, beaten within an inch of his life and left to the elements by the government higher-ups.

They really didn't like people messing with their system.

Cassidy took a labored breath for what felt like the millionth time. Each time it was getting harder. His arms were pinned awkwardly above his head and to fill his lungs, he had to pull himself up. It quickly became exhausting.

The worst part was the cold. Montana had mentioned that this planet's average temperature was a little below what Cassidy was used to, but he didn't mention that the city they were infiltrating was located near the northern pole of the planet.

It was freezing.

Cassidy had long since stopped shivering.

He let his head loll forward. He wasn't sure he had the strength to wait for Montana anymore. He wasn't sure he had the strength for anything anymore. Even keeping his eyes open seemed a monumental task.

So, he let them fall shut.

••••

When he woke up, it was because he registered his center of gravity tilting on it's axis.

There was a body pressed against his. And it was warm.

If he had any remaining strength, he would have clung to his rescuer like there was no tomorrow. Instead, he settled for letting his head fall against the person's chest as he let out a pitiful whine.

A hand chafed up and down his shoulder. "Just relax. We'll get you warm. Don't you dare try to run off, Silver."

He wouldn't dream of it. Not when he could feel himself melting to putty in the arms of this stranger.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

LAST DRABBLE it's gene's turn. in this au he has spasthma (space asthma) and sometimes it hinders his job in Not good ways. and cassidy isn't heartless.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Cassidy really wasn't thinking when he threw the smoke bomb. All he knew was that the damned bounty hunter was catching up and he needed to throw him off.

He did not expect him to fall to his knees with a guttural coughing fit.

It would have been so easy to leave him there to rot, to hop in his ship and escape without looking back.

But when did Cassidy ever take the easy way out?

"Shit," He hissed, darting back to where Gene was kneeled with a palm supporting him on the ground.

He was clutching at his chest, choked gasps leaving him intermittently. His eyes looked vaguely panicked.

"C-Can't--" He wheezed, getting cut off by another coughing fit. He looked as if he was about to topple over.

Cassidy caught him by the arm and dragged him away from the busy street. He propped him up against an wall tucked into an alleyway and began rummaging around in his bag.

One of the younger kids with the Montana's crew had the same condition with all the same symptoms Gene was having right now. The kid was pretty forgetful, and Cassidy always made sure he had an extra rebreather on him. Just in case.

Gene was going to owe him big time.

His fingers finally grazed what he was looking for and he yanked it out, fumbling to get it open. He shook the small canister and pressed it to Gene's lips.

"You have to puff. Just try, okay? Just a little." Cassidy grabbed Gene's hand and placed it on his chest, exaggerating his own breathing to show him what to strive for.

Gene hiccuped slightly before taking a flimsy inhale. He breathed out and tried at it again, and found it gradually got easier.

When he could finally take a deep breath, he collapsed against the wall, panting. His hand didn't leave Cassidy's chest.

"Thank-- thank you," He whispered.

Cassidy smiled.

"Does this mean I get a headstart now?"

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

SETH thank you SO VERY MUCH for this ask and this au. i think i may like it more than their original au GOD i love them so so so much FHDJKFH. thank u for the requests and as always PLS dont be afraif to send more if the mood striked you but no pressure ofc! /gen

hope you enjoy my rambling bc this post was LONGGGGG

[wa1tngtill1d13]

⭐️Let’s fuckin ruin my life⭐️

Does anyone else just want to do all the drugs in the world? And absolutely ruin your life because what’s the point anymore?

[princematcha]

shouto todoroki x reader || wc: 2k

cw: no pronouns for reader but in a dress, 1 mention of drugs (a joint), alcohol, everyone’s a little tipsy, sfw

pls no minors or ageless blogs

You’ve kissed Shouto, once. 

If anyone asked, you would say no. That they’re wrong, he’s been one of your closest friends for forever. You’ve never thought about him like that when your other friends want to hear something “hot,” oh my god, he’s your friend. 

You’ve never looked a little too long at the skin of his abdomen that peeks out when he takes off a sweater and his shirt rides up. Never woken up before him after falling asleep next to each other, and just admire him.

(You’ve gotten used to not looking at his face too much. He once adjusted his hair over his left eye when you were smoking together and you were staring at him. You asked him what was wrong and he asked if he had anything on his face as he took the joint from your hand. Shouto swallowed hard when you told him he was heartbreakingly pretty, his adam’s apple bobbing as he glanced around your face. 

Sober you apologized. 

Shouto still angles himself in his interviews, right side facing the cameras.)

Never known the feeling of his chest to yours as you breathe heavy breaths into each other’s mouths.

–it was New Year’s Eve.

//cut//

Your head hurt. You couldn’t remember if you hit it, or if it was because you smoked half a cigarette on the balcony with your friends after quitting cold turkey half a year earlier. Standing in your and Shouto’s kitchen in the way too nice apartment, you filled a glass at the sink. There’s a pitcher in the fridge, but you just downed two shots and there was already a glass rim down by the sink.

You turned around as Shouto rounded the corner to see you gulping water.

“Hello.”

You lifted a hand off of the counter to wave to him. He watched in silence as you finished the cup. You teetered back and forth on the heated marble floors, then slouched against the crowded counter.

Shouto was wearing a dark grey suit, blazer thrown over his arm. The off-white button-up underneath was rumpled by the collar and around his waist, partially untucked from his pants. Cufflinks you helped him choose and put on: gone; his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

He shrugged and leaned onto the archway next to the fridge. Messing with a picture of the two from a purikura on a boardwalk, “Why? Need me gone?”

You smiled and shook your head, “No, always want you here.”

He glanced at you.

Sliding your glass across the counter until it hits a cheese platter one of your friends brought, you looked down at his mismatched socks, “I thought you had a hero thing. Fancy party with,” you picked up an empty bottle of overly sweet wine with a celebrity printed across the front, “fancy food.”

Shouto huffed, a small dimple on his left cheek showing itself, “Who needs fancy food when I’ve got this at home.” He ran his eyes back and forth the counter as he stepped closer, getting stuck on you twice. “They didn’t have any konbini mochi there.”

You laughed when he shook the room-temperature sakura mochi at you, Shouto giving a small smile at yours.

“What about your friends? People you actually like?” You joked. When you asked him if you could host a small get-together for New Years and told him who would be coming, his face stayed purposely flat. Your friends were a lot when you were able to wrangle them into one place.

His head tilted, “I like you.”

“I know you do.” His smile dropped a touch, goosebumps rose up your bare legs, a chill suddenly in the air, “It would be weirder if you didn’t.”

Shouto stared into you like the time you came home with tears in your eyes after your partner broke up with you and suddenly you felt as if you said something wrong.

“You know because– we, uh, live together.” Words fell out of your mouth like water between your teeth. “And we’re-”

The glass door to the balcony slid open and one of your friends came ambling through, yelling Shouto’s last name the minute she saw him, inviting him out for a drink.

You smiled up at him, ready to be free from that look.

“You comin'?”

Making Shouto play drinking games was much easier than you anticipated, though no one was prepared for how horribly good he was at every single one of them. 

After the third game of beer pong with the other side of the table left with one solo cup, and your shared side missing just one cup, you hip-bumped him out of the way when it was his turn. 

“This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.”

You saw him look down at you in your peripheral vision as you aimed your throw, the world shifted and wobbled before you. 

“You asked me to come out here,” Shouto says. 

Your friend loosely ushered you back telepathically, her quirk tired and unfocused. “Too close,” she muttered, “Rules.”

“I thought we were going to play a game, not demolish my friends with no mercy.” You threw the ping-pong ball. 

It bounces once on the table and then rolls off to the side. Your friends cheered, hugging each other in great celebration.

“Are you not having fun?” Shouto’s mouth is much closer to your ear than you were prepared for, warm breath running over your ear and neck. You find yourself staring as he stands back up to his full height.

Your eyes dashed between his. “I’m, yeah, of course.”

He nodded and opened his mouth to say more, but a door slammed open, shouts of how the countdown is soon. 

You gazed out over the balcony, Tokyo feeling crackly and alive. People in the streets with their heads pointed up to see the fireworks that would shortly fill the night sky. 

“Do you remember when I spent a few months in the States?” Shouto asks after all of your friends shuffle inside. 

You stared at your hand as your eyes unfocused, half of it disappearing for the glowing building behind it. “I don’t think I could forget Shou, could’ve bought out half of Japan with the international phone bills.” You smiled at him to show you were joking. 

He blinked at you slowly like a sleepy cat. 

“You celebrated with your family that year.” You nodded as he spoke. 

Shouto celebrated in the States; alone. “I meant to call you back the next-”

“You were there when it mattered.”

You turned to him, your back to the city. He was staring at you, but you weren’t sure if he ever really looked away from you. There’s a serene look on his face that makes you want to ask him anything, everything. Questions you’ve already asked, questions that roll into your brain when you’re bored, questions you can only ask in dreams. 

Why he texted you every morning and every night when he was across the world. Why he shares an apartment with you that he could afford a dozen of. Why he was standing right in front of you looking like he could-

“There’s a, ah, tradition they have,” he rubbed his palm on his slacks, “Back there. In the states.”

He stares at the air over your head as you wait for him to continue, you like hearing about his travels, his thoughts. “At the end of the countdown. They kiss someone.”

Your thoughts stalled, “Oh.”

“For good luck.”

“Ah.” Your eyes betrayed you as your focus darted down to his mouth. Lips parted, a small cut running over his bottom lip from a fight he was in the other day. The cold always makes them a tint darker, you suspected he wore lipstick for a bit in high school. “Did you-?”

Shouto watched your gaze bounce down and up. “No.” 

“Cool.” You found yourself interested in a hair that fell on his shoulder. “Sorry.” What? Is going on. 

“Your dress.” He suddenly said, walking towards you with determination in his eye. 

You glanced down and saw a strap was falling, moving to push it up and thank him, but his hand met your shoulder before you could. “I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” You whispered.

Shouto’s palm didn’t leave your shoulder, warm fingers playing with the fabric of the thin strap. Skin soft on yours. 

He smelt like mint. And tea. You accidentally took too deep of a breath, head dizzy with the smell of him; you leaned against his chest. Shouto didn’t say anything, his heartbeat raced against your head, his firm chest stilled. 

“I thought about you every day.”

“Me too,” you spoke into his shirt.

“I, still, think about you every day.”

You looked up at him. “You see me every day?” 

“Not enough.” He gazed directly into your eyes, and the feeling dripped over you like warmed honey. You wrapped a finger around one of his belt loops, readying a question in your mind. 

“Ten!” 

The shout of your friends inside made you jump, Shouto smiled as he slid his hand from your shoulder over your neck and onto your cheek. 

“I’ve thought about this-”

“Nine!”

“About you,”

“Eight!”

“For so long.”

“Seven!”

“About what?” You asked. You knew, you think. You always knew, but you just- you just need to hear it. 

“Six!”

His thumb traced your bottom lip, eyes shamelessly glued to your mouth. 

“Five!”

“This.” He said. And brought his nose to yours, pressing them together. 

“Four!” 

His breath was cold as he breathed into your mouth, the air sticking to your tongue. 

“Three!”

“Can I,” Shouto’s top lip brushed yours as he asked, “kiss you?”

“Two!”

You nodded against his cheek, your hand against the buttons of his shirt, “Yes.”

“One!”

“Please.”

“Happy New Year!”

His mouth melded against yours like that was where he was supposed to be his whole life, so, so softly. Your eyes fluttered close as fireworks littered the sky, the loud popping nowhere to be in your mind. 

Shouto tasted like the strawberry soju you keep in a high cabinet as his tongue ran over yours, one of his hands gripping your waist for life. You met each other at every breath, slow and heated movement. Not wanting to be apart longer than necessary. 

His chest pressed against yours as he walked you back towards the balcony railing, your back pressed against the cold stone. It didn’t matter as Shouto ran a hot hand over your collarbone, a warm feeling sizzling in your gut. 

The sound of glass breaking woke you though. An ice bath for your warm gooey mind. 

You pushed him back suddenly, eyes wild and looking everywhere but him. What were you thinking? He’s drunk. He probably doesn’t know what he’s doing. 

You were drunk too, but why would you think about yourself?

You don’t know what face he was making. You don’t want to know what face Shouto was making. 

“Sorry.” You turned to help your friend with the champagne glass she dropped. 

//cut//

(When you woke up, it was with another brutal headache. Shouto brought you a hot drink in bed and asked if you remembered last night. You said yes. 

For a moment he looked mortified. 

You were embarrassed. 

You told him you remembered that he came back, but not much after that. You’re not sure if he could tell if you were lying. You’re not sure if it matters.)

You glance at your phone for any new messages. 

Just a text from your boss about a deadline on friday. 

“I just can’t believe it.”

“Hmm?” You look up at Ayame sitting across from you. Your friend wanted a recovery brunch from the drinking this weekend. 

“I mean you live with him, you’re telling me you didn’t know?”

You shrug, glancing at the gossip paper sitting on the table next to yours. “I try not to pry.”

“You never saw her come over?”

Reading over the headline, you feel tears building at the back of your eyes but you hold your breath. “I don’t know. Maybe just, like-”

10 January 20XX

       New Beau for Top 30 under 30 Pro-Hero Shouto?

“I don’t know.”

A cover photo of Shouto leaving a restaurant with a woman, smiling down at her; the ink buries itself into your mind. 

Ayame sighs, “Damn, I could’ve sworn I saw something between you at the party. You sure nothing happened?”

You rub your eye and stare at the bubbles fizzing up in your drink, “No. Nothing happened.”

[pawnguild]

must say something abt this manuscript if i need to drink to get through revisions :/

[delopsia]

Okay but why don’t any of Rhett’s hookups stay? Do you think it’s his reputation? His family’s reputation?

Cause I know I wouldn’t kick him outta my bed for eating crackers 👀

With nothing else to go off of, I'm taking the gamble and saying that Rhett is looking for love while his hookups are just looking for a one-night stand.

Rhett will jump at anyone who flirts with him, making him a hell of a target for buckle bunnies and ladies who want to say they slept with a real cowboy, and most of the time, both parties are shitface drunk. They're both lucky if they remember anything they did when they wake up.

In the back of his mind, he knows it will never last. But his hopeless heart feels a little warmer when he falls into a cheap motel bed with another person, and he keeps doing it over and over and over because something is better than nothing.

[autumn-applepie]

University ever pushes you so low you have to go buy a couple of beers? /srs/neg

I'm gonna vent in the tags for a moment humor me for once /gen

[rocksinmuffin]

Hi! I'd like to request something from the Megahusband AU. Just anything you feel the inspo for. I'd like to see how thr Megafamily is doing in the present day. Maybe we see how they celebrated New Years?

“I dunno,” you say as you watch Megatron filling Starscream’s glass with high grade energon. “Isn’t he a little young for the hard stuff? I’m sure we have some sparkling energon in the garage.”

“I’m not a sparkling!” Starscream squawks, deeply offended. “I’ve been a fully formed mech since millennia before your species managed to drag itself out of the ocean!”

But Starscream’s yelling goes mostly ignored, as the majority of children’s tantrums do.

Megatron merely chuckles as he fills his own glass. “One night shouldn’t hurt. After all, it’s a special occasion.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you sigh, not entirely convinced. Stasrscream catches at you staring at his drink as if you might still snatch it away from him and gives you the stink eye. You turn away from him to glance at the television. “Oh, the countdown’s started! Get ready!”

You, Megatron, and Starscream watch the screen as the ball slowly descends. You can hear the crowd of people cheering through the tv speakers, counting down as it gets closer and closer to midnight.

“THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Starscream immediately downs his drink, the only part of this silly earth tradition that isn’t completely idiotic. Glass empty, he decides he will at least give you and Megatron the courtesy of acknowledging them.

Or, he would, if the two of you weren’t currently sucking each other’s faces.

Starscream scrunches up his face in disgust before helping himself to Megatron’s glass while the other mech is preoccupied.

[badatsleepbadatawake]

stupid crack theory alert

one crack ''theory'' I have is that the punch nutty made in party animal is actually just some kind of alcohol because nutty doesn't know how to make punch (he's a little dumb) and he's just overall a party animal (pun intended); the reason he starts spinning out and stuff over like 1 molecule of sugar (which is more intense than usual) is because he's a little drunk, that's also why it tasted so bad so he put in sugar (but also he needs like at least 75% of any food ever to be sugar, or else its gross to him) This is by no means a serious theory lmao I just thought it was a funny thing

[rengerines]

you guys know how japan has a really strong drinking culture? (if you didn’t know, you read more about it here if you’re interested)

it makes me wonder if dazai, who’s home (when we do get to see it) is littered with alcohol, has a alcoholism problem that is bad by western standards or bad by japanese standards. like japanese ppl aren’t too aware of alcoholism but i feel like there’s probably still a line somewhere that’s considered “too much.”

[down-with-the-mafia]

little discotrain doodle