#personified energy drinks

[abstractredd]

meet the gadrinkas (gijinka & drinks??? get it??)

[heartzfromel]

Rio x fem!reader (fluff and/or hurt comfort plz)

not good enough || rio vidal x fem!reader

summary; you meet your love again after one hundred years

warnings; agatha all along ep 7 spoilers, canon character death, reader has a small injury, kissing, pining, reader and rio are both kinda idiots, rio and reader are both touchy w each other, main story set after first witches road trial, rio and agatha are not romantically involved

rio vidal had been the only constant friend you’d had in your whole life, but your situation was quite complicated. you were a centuries old witch and, whist technically she was too, she was also death personified, meaning she had a lot of work to do. your friend wasn’t around much, leaving you alone a lot. sometimes you wouldn’t see her for sixty or seventy years at a time. this time, it had been a lot longer than that. that fact tended to leave a pit in your stomach, especially considering your last interaction.

1924

you were sitting in your cabin, your best friend lying next to you, the pair of you giggling into the night, until you were both facing each other. it was very clear that the energy had shifted from lighthearted fun, to something else entirely. in all honesty, it sort of made you feel uneasy, but then again everything rio ever did brought up that feeling. it made most people withdraw from her company, but it only intrigued you more.

currently, her eyes were fixed on yours. you held her gaze. it was clear she was fighting with herself internally to keep her eyes off of your lips, but after a few moments of tension-filled silence, she gave in, her eyes darting to your cherry red lips for only a split second, before you licked them and her eyes darted back up to meet yours once again. it was now that you had realised the position that you had been laying in, your hand lazily on her waist whilst hers rested on top wearily. you moved your hand up, with an uncertain energy, as if one wrong move would ruin what was happening. you moved your hand up to her neck, rubbing it gently, and then up to her face as you caressed it gently. her hand has moved more confidently on to your waist, as she squeezed it lightly. you had hoped she hadn’t caught your breath hitch, but the ghost of a smirk on her face told you that she absolutely had. you could feel her breath, hot and shaky on your face. your hand moved to play with her hair, and with a final burst of confidence, you leaned in to kiss her. just as your lips met hers, you were apart again. she moved her hands from you quickly and jolted to sit up in bed. you looked at her again, but the expression on her face was not one you were familiar with.

“rio, i’m sorry-“ you began. what had you just done?

“i have to go.” she whispered, and just like that it was almost as if she were never there.

2026

it was today that your lovely acquaintance, agatha harkness, had decided to make herself your problem as she practically forced you down the witches road. you didn’t really know why you’d shown up, considering the last time you walked the road together she almost you you slashed into a million pieces, but you went along anyway. when you arrived at her extremely un-agatha like house, you were met with a ragtag group of witches and one random lady that you were sure that the rest of the coven had also noticed. unfortunately the woman had passed away during your first trial, and you were left angrier at agatha than you were before, because she could’ve got you all killed by not drinking that wine. you were ready to force it down her throat at one point.

one of the witches, a tall woman dressed head to toe in pink, had suggested summoning a green witch to the road, since they didn’t actually have one. none of you seemed against the idea, and so that’s exactly what you did. had you known what was going to happen mere moments later, you’d have an entirely different opinion.

agatha’s coven all stood still anticipating the arrival of the new green witch, you were a bit less interested, just wanting to leave, and so were not fully paying attention until a single hand shot up from under the ground. a hand that, embarrassingly, you still recognised. the pit that formed in your stomach was one you’d never felt, and it got so much worse when her full figure came into view. she hadn’t aged a day, well she had, she’s aged over a hundred years, but she still looked exactly the same as she did that night in the cabin. as she introduced herself, you hid yourself from view behind the lady dressed in pink, jen, who you’d decided was the only tolerable one here, but it was no use. she had seen you.

“y/n…” she smirked. this earned looks from the whole coven, considering her dramatic entrance.

“i have to go.”

you felt ill as you turned your heel and walked swiftly in the other direction. “maybe this is my trial?” you thought hopefully, praying that you’d turn around and the coven would all be dressed in hideous outfits that the road had picked out for them, but no, when you turned around, you were met by the hypnotic gaze of rio.

“y/n…” she began, “been a while.”

“don’t.” you snapped, “don’t even try.”

“what’s the problem?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“what’s the problem? rio its been over a hundred years.” you spat, malice dripping from your tone. she seemed to enjoy it.

“i’ve been… busy.” she replied playfully.

you didn’t respond.

carefully, she waded over to you, placing a hand on your lower back and using the other to grab your face to look at her.

not breaking eye contact, she brought her hand down to your collarbone, dragging her fingertips along a gash that you’d received from broken glass in the trial. you shuddered at the coldness of her touch. it brought you back to that night, because the only time you’d ever felt her heat up, was when your hand was on her face in the cabin.

her eyes met yours once again and she smiled gently, the same smile she’d smiled all those years ago, before leaning into you.

“rio.” you mumbled, stopping her. you looked up at her with conflicted eyes.

“come on,” she whispered, “look me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing for me.”

“well clearly that’s not the case, rio, is it?” you spat, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill.

“so what’s the problem?” she asked, both hands now on your face.

“you shut me down the last time, remember?” you spoke, trying your best to drill into her head what she had done to you. “and then you think if you show up here a hundred years later and give me a kiss it’s all gonna be okay?”

“do you know why i left that night?” she whispered, dragging a cold hand into your hair, your eyes threatening to close at her action.

“oh, please, lady death, enlighten me! why did you leave me for a hundred years?” you asked, sarcasm lacing your tone. you caught her slight demeanor change at the use of her title, but it faded quickly.

“i was scared.”

and you couldn’t help but let yourself laugh humourlessly in her face.

“of what, rio, tell me what you were so scared of.”

“that i was’t good enough for you.” she replied, talking to the floor.

“don’t, you’ll set me off again.” wiping tears of laughter from your flushed cheeks.

she didn’t say anything.

“oh.” was all you could muster, “you’re serious?”

she could only nod.

subconsciously your hands wrapped around her waist, before they traveled up to her face.

“well you’re wrong.” you whispered, as she leaned into your touch.

“am i?” she asked, being more serious than you’d ever saw her.

“please, trust me, you’re the only one good enough for me, rio.” you replied, eyes never leaving hers.

“is that right?” she smirked, her confident demeanour reappearing.

“would i have said it if it wasn’t?” you smiled.

“so are you gonna let me kiss you now, or…” rio smirked, one hand grabbing at your waist, the other fidgeting with a strand of your hair.

“come here, you idiot.” you giggled, as you pulled her closer to you, and she grabbed your face to close the gap between you. kissing rio was a difficult feeling to describe, the best way you could would be to say that it’d be the same feeling you’d experience if you set foot in antarctica with no jacket, but it didn’t bother you, as long as you could do this again.

[theemporium]

ok ok hear me out

everyone knows james as the "super cocky and loud guy" right?

well what about when reader (his gf/partner) is near him and he just gets all quiet and sweet with her like maybe she walks in as he's bragging or talking about (for example you don't have to use this ofc) winning a quidditch match and he doesn't notice until she's right beside him and he just stops the conversation with whoever and greets her and is just super soft

idk if this makes sense but i hope it does

this was so cute!! thank you for requesting!🖤

.

James Potter was a loud guy. 

Loud presence. Loud voice. Loud personality. 

You could hear him before you could see him. You would be able to locate him in a crowded room in seconds. You would know if he was within a mile radius of you. And he knew that, he knew that the spotlight had a tendency to find him and he loved it.

He was cocky in that way that was endearing. He wasn’t condescending or arrogant, he just acted like he was the best thing in the world because he was. He had the personality and the charms to back it all up, he wasn’t just all talk. But he was as kind as he was cocky, a balance that was hard to find but James seemed to personify perfectly.

James was undoubtedly a handful to deal with and everyone knew that.They expected him to find someone who would match his energy, who was as loud and vibrant as he was. So, it was a shock when they saw you hanging off his arm. 

And it was a bigger shock when they saw how much you mellowed him down—not that you meant to at all. But it was just one of those things you had to witness to believe. 

“Who’s your fucking daddy!” 

The boy raised the trophy above his head, basking in the cheers and the applause as he walked into the common room with a wide grin plastered across his face. Gryffindor had just won the Quidditch House Cup and James Potter was over the fucking moon, having led his team to victory for the third year in a row as captain. 

“Potter! Potter! Potter!” The crowd chanted as everyone slapped him on the back as he made his way through the crowd, standing up on the table to thrust the trophy in the air once again as the cheers washed over him and the stolen bottles of firewhiskey popped open. 

He was three drinks in with adrenaline and victory pumping through his veins by the time you made it to the party. You had promised a younger student you would help them study after the match, and despite the guilt you felt, your boyfriend only kissed you on the lips and muttered how hot it was that you were so kind before making you promise you would show up after your tutoring session. 

Now, here you were, pushing your way through drunk and cheery party-goers as you tried to locate your boyfriend.

“PADS, YOU’RE GETTING IT ALL WRONG!”

You could have snorted when you heard his voice booming over all the others, as well as the bass of the music blasting through the speakers you suspected Sirius had smuggled in from the Muggle World.

“I COULD SEE IT THE WHOLE BLOODY TIME! IT WAS RIGHT THERE AND—”

You flashed an apologetic smile as you pushed past a few more students before you saw him, standing in the middle of the circle of his friends and other students. His curls were unruly and his cheeks were flushed pink. His hands were moving animatedly as he loudly spoke, grinning as he recounted the events that led to Gryffindor winning. 

“AND I SWOOPED DOWN—” But before James could continue his story, his eyes found yours and his smile instantly widened. Not caring about the others, he pushed his way out of the circle and made his way towards you, engulfing you in his arms. “Hey, princess.” 

“Hey,” you laughed as you wound your arms around his waist, lifting your head to look up at him. “Enjoying the party?” 

“It’s better now that you’re here,” he mumbled, long gone was the booming voice and boisterous laughs, and the others could have snorted at the sight. He lifted his hand to push some hair behind your ear before he cupped your cheek. “How was your tutoring session? Lil’ Jimmy give you any trouble?”

You rolled your eyes. “He was a delight as always. Told me I was practically dating a celebrity, you know.”

James grinned. “I knew I always liked that boy.”

“Oi, Potter, you gonna finish your story?” 

But James just waved them off, muttering that someone else would finish the story before he led you towards a table where drinks and snacks had been set up. 

“What do you wanna drink? Have you eaten today? Have you eaten enough today?” James rambled off as he grabbed a paper plate, beginning to pile a large amount of food onto said plate before you stopped him.

“I’m fine,” you laughed, shaking your head. “C’mon, let’s go celebrate your win, captain.”

“Hmm, they can wait,” he murmured as he tugged you towards him once again, this time dipping his head down to kiss you. “I think you need to properly congratulate me.”

You snorted. “Yeah?”

James grinned. “Yeah.”

“Whatever you say, captain,” you teased. 

“Fuck, it’s kinda hot when you call me that.”

.

[criminalmindsgonewrong]

how I percieve Hotchniss:

as requested by @em-prentiss

emily:

tropes: action girl, blue blood, lady in a powersuit, back from the dead, brainy brunette, dark and troubled past, honour before reason, sarcasm personified, reckless and sexy

she/her

libra sun, scorpio moon, leo rising

bisexual 

born 12th october 1970

chaotic neutral

ENFJ personality type

cat person

only child - and very much gives only child energy

red is her favourite colour

body count: "private, thank you very much!"

her favourite movie of all time is 'Carrie' - but she can't resist a good old mystery novel

has some secret skills she doesn't really talk about or use until she needs them; plays the piano, did ballet until she was 15, can horseback ride.

her favourite book of all time is 'Jane Eyre'

dog ears her books to save her pages - either that or uses literally anything as a bookmark. argues that it makes her books look 'loved'

her favourite meal is a good cheeseburger (although she'll tell you its some kind of fancy pasta)

chews her nails when she's stressed

grew up in multiple embassies across the world including: UK, Iraq, Russia, Italy, France, Greece, Spain, and Egypt.

mommy issues galore although she'd never admit it

daddy issues, too, while we're at it.

absentee father who was 'working' all the time - only 'working' meant having affairs and avoiding their home as much as possible

her parents only put on the show of a functional, happy marriage for elizabeth's career, a charade emily was also expected to play a part in. she did so until she went away to college

her dad died when she was 23

nomadic lifestyle all her life due to her mom's job - finds it hard to settle down as a result

has a little box of mementos from each of the places she's lived, trinkets that would be of no value to anyone else but mean a lot to her

has a few small, discreet tattoos

multi-lingual but not a show off about it - sometimes dreams in italian

is also multilingual in sarcasm and often uses it to diffuse tense situations.

had an abortion when she was 15 - doesn't regret it but has always wondered. marks the day each year, even if it's just with a prayer. it's the only time she prays

���️ religious trauma ✨️ 

rebelled against her mother as a teenager and their relationship has never really recovered

spoilt, privileged lifestyle 

likes her luxuries as a result and doesn't shy away from them 

never had too many close friends growing up - due to the moving around a lot

bit of a wild girl at college, there's not really a sexual position or an illegal substance she hasn't tried at least once (except the ones you inject, she's not insane)

still sneaks the occasional cigarette

cannot abide by any rule she considers arbitrary

loves a good horror movie, the gorier the better but the supernatural ones freak her out

has a secret passion for classical music when she’s stressed - particularly beethoven and bach

emily has a love for fine wine and is something of an amateur connoisseur, able to tell the difference between a good vintage and a cheap bottle. she and rossi bond over this.

her passion for coffee, however, is much more lax and she can drink even the roughest of instant crap. 

can also whip up a mean martini

she’s a cat person but never had a pet growing up due to all the moving around.

emily’s guilty pleasure is reality TV—she finds it oddly comforting and a way to unwind from the seriousness of her day-to-day life.

often doodles when she's on the phone—her notebooks are full of random sketches.

loves an indoor plant but finds it incredibly difficult to keep them alive

fucking loves technology and is slightly addicted to TikTok. has to limit her own screen time.

speaking of TikTok, she's totally on BookTok and loved the ACOTAR series.

loves spicy foods - often challenges herself to try the hottest dish on the menu.

bit of an adrenaline junkie, whether in her home or professional life. overly impulsive sometimes as a result

what she wears:

aaron:

tropes: badass in a nice suit, stoic leader, chronic hero syndrome, highest kill count, death glare, grumpy to her sunshine, deadpan snarker

he/him

scorpio sun, taurus moon, virgo rising

heterosexual

born 2nd november 1965

lawful good

ISTJ personality type

dog person

bodycount: 2

favourite colour is navy blue

eldest son, his brother, sean, is 11 years younger than him

his favourite book is 'one hundred years of solitude'

prioritizes his fitness and likes to take on fitness challenges to keep himself healthy

lonely childhood even though he had a little brother

abusive, drunk for a father

emotionally absent mother who was trying to deal with her own trauma

his mom died when he was 25

his dad is still alive out there somewhere but they're not in contact, and aaron has no intention of being

had to be the strong one for his little brother

comes from a pretty poor background, has built himself up to be and have everything he is and has 

always felt like more of a father than a brother to Sean because of their age gap, and the fact that he practically raised him

loves to go camping and be in the wilderness

a morning person - likes to get up and out of the house as early as possible

a very neat person - you'd be forgiven for thinking he was in the military (he never was) by the way he makes his bed and stacks his clothes

collected coins as a kid, something he never grew out of. has a very well organised collection he values greatly

keeps his books neat and tidy - always uses a bookmark

loves an old western, likes an action movie, horrors make him uncomfy and he's a secret sucker for a rom-com

reluctant green thumb and often ends up taking care of the plants that emily brings home and gives up on or gets distracted from

has a soft spot for old-school jazz and sometimes listens to it when he needs to decompress.

he's a surprisingly good cook, which is a skill he honed while having to take care of his brother, although the recipes were a lot more basic back then

still has his parents wedding rings, a fact about himself that he wrestles with since he doubts they were ever in love

prefers handwritten notes to digital reminders, is a very tactile person. never really fell in love with his phone.

hums softly when he's concentrating, a habit he's more often than not completely unaware of, and emily finds it adorable

keeps a stash of chocolate in his drawer in the office - stocks it with emily's favourites

wears his grandfather's class ring. it's the only family heirloom he has, and sometimes he feels guilty for not giving it to sean

has a collection of old vinyls from the 70s

visits the same diner every saturday for breakfast. after getting together with emily, the visits become less frequent but they still go now and then. aaron says they have the best eggs. emily thinks they're just ok, but she likes to see him happy

aaron isn't a big drinker; he'll have a few beers on a night out, or a whiskey after work occasionally, but he very rarely engages in any binge drinking. emily's only seen him really drunk a handful of times throughout their relationship.

he is, however, partial to the occasional cigar and although emily sneaks her own cigarette now and then, she can't stand the smell of them.

what he wears:

Hotchniss:

the only time hotch is not a morning person is when emily is in his bed, then he never wants to leave the comfort of the covers and the warmth of her body

hotch will watch a horror movie with emily with a straight face, but hate it the whole way through. emily will pretend to be into his action movies, and doesn't let him know she's actually bored out of her mind. their middle ground is a good western or a rom-com.

their first big fight is over a clash between their idea of 'tidy' - emily is laid back, doesn't mind a bit of clutter. aaron is...borderline ocd. they fall out over her having left a towel on the floor...again.

they are very well matched at chess, and often their games can go on for weeks in between cases and life. currently emily is winning by two games.

aaron would rather to repairs around the house himself, where as emily is used to throwing money at a problem and making it go away. they try to compromise but they're away so often for work that more often than not, emily wins because aaron just doesn't have the time, but when he does take on a project he loves the manual labour, and emily loves to sit back and watch x

it was his dream to restore a classical care so emily bought him one for his 50th birthday and its his pride and joy. he painted it red just for her

emily reads before bed and aaron does the crossword, with his glasses perched on the end of his nose and emily thinks it's the cutest thing.

emily's love of spicy foods means that more often than not aaron has to resign himself to buying her two meals when the spiciest dish on the menu is just 'a little too spicy' - he doesn't mind, really

they're both incredibly competitive. emily gets sweary and loud when she's in competition, aaron gets smug and smirky and that drives emily up the wall. their second biggest fight, ever, was over a game of monopoly. it's been banned in their household ever since.

emily takes aaron to a ranch for one of his birthdays - to celebrate his love for an old western, and because she thinks he'll love it! turns out aaron hotchner is terrified of horses. emily spent the first day riding and trying to convince him to do the same, and after that they just enjoyed the views and each other's company, and the horses, but from afar.

emily often teases hotch about his love for organization and can’t resist occasionally hiding a few items just to see his reaction. he pretends to be frustrated but secretly finds her antics adorable.

surprisingly, when they go on vacation, it's emily who wants their days planned down to the moment so that they don't miss anything, and aaron who just - finally- wants to relax and 'go with the flow'. emily finds this version of her husband disconcerting.

emily loves to surprise hotch with impromptu weekend getaways. he pretends to grumble about the lack of planning and the expense of it all but secretly enjoys the surprises and the thought she puts into them.

financially, aaron and emily grew up in two very different places. aaron watched his mother scrimp and save every penny to try and provide for him and sean, when she was lucid. when she wasn't, he had to figure it out himself. he's worked since the age of 14. emily had everything in life given to her on a silver platter and, even now, occasionally spends out of her trust fund. aaron gets frustrated by spending that he sees as frivolous and emily has to remind him that they're well off - she still has her trust fund, even if neither of them were working. it's infrequently a source of contention between them, though.

they dated before emily's 'death', before paris. he visited her in paris, where their flame sparked again but when she came back to the team nothing happened. then beth happened. then emily left again.

they stayed in contact while she was in london and eventually realised they were miserable without each other. emily moves back to the states, returns to the BAU and they get back together.

they marry that same year. it's a really small ceremony, attended only by the team, jack and sean. neither of their surviving parents are invited.

they started a two-person book club where they choose a book to read each month and discuss it over dinner. they always donate one copy - whether to charity or a friend. sometimes both if they agree that the book sucked.

they create the 'hotchner cup' which is a trophy that they play for every family game night. it's an old, tarnished badge of hotch's with 'Hotchner' written across it super-glued to an old ballet trophy of emily's. it's currently in emily's possession...due to the chess situation.

emily's a cat person and hotch loves dogs. as a compromise, they have one of each.

when emily has their kids, they share the position of Unit Chief at the BAU and alternate shifts, so someone's always at home with the kids. it's their one rule; the kids never get left alone.

they have three kids together, ava, livvy and alex. jack is aaron's son from his previous marriage to haley, and emily loves him like her own.

they share a home office and walking into it is hysterical; there are two desks and it's immediately obvious whose is whose because aaron's is meticulously organised and emily's is a mess.

aaron always dreads his weeks 'on' at work, because he knows he's going into his desk being an absolute mess. emily is the same because she says whenever he cleans up, he puts her stuff away and she can't find anything. she prefers her 'organised chaos'.

even though emily is a luxury resort kind of girl, aaron forces the family to take an annual camping trip. every year, emily complains about it; alex and ava follow her suit. jack and livvy love the camping trip like their father. even though emily and the kids complain, they also secretly love it.

they take an annual family photo during every camping trip

every year they all celebrate haley's birthday together with a special meal; homemade lasagne followed by apple pie and ice cream, both favourites of haley.

when it comes to parenting, there's no doubt who's the strict parent. emily definitely takes a more relaxed approach than her husband.

however, when it comes to bullying or the kids being in danger, emily has to be kept in check. more than once she's threatened to pull her badge on a kid - or parent - at school. more than once, she's had to be talked down by her husband, and sometimes the kids.

when aaron eventually retires early, he takes up teaching at the academy. they still have lunch together most days.

after aaron retires, emily takes on the role of unit chief by herself and eventually progresses to section chief, which is more of a bureaucratic role than she ever imagined for herself, but it means she gets home to her family every night.

Hotchniss tropes:

grumpy x sunshine rich girl x poor boy he's her boss mutual pining will they/won't they jealousy trope friends to lovers 'touch her and you die'

Photos Aaron takes of Emily:

Photos Emily takes of Aaron:

Joint camera roll:

How Hotchniss text:

Hotchniss playlist:

[chewnotchoke]

don't ask me where i've been - l.riwoo

note: before anything else, this all started bcs of this tiktok and i thought 'wow he's so fucking sexy i should make a cocky riwoo fic' and boom :) ,,, he's not super cocky here but yk his confidence is on another level

vibes are kinda based from friends by chase atlantic so go take a listen :)

warnings: drinking, partying, making out, no smut, riwoo is a chase atlantic song personified (he's just so hot), and just riwoo being the cool guy he is

word count: 1.6k

more under the cut!

to find freedom after a relentless week of exams is what you always seek, and the place to go to is the club. with the beats pulsing through the air, the swirling lights and LEDs wrapping around you melted the exhaustion and sleepless night you had for a week. a table was reserved for you and your friends coming tonight. some of them welcomed you while others still hadn’t arrived. the laughter and greetings were barely audible from the sound booming across the place.

“what’s up, y/n! how was finals week? haven’t seen you around lately…” leehan offers you a shot of tequila which you politely decline. “barely survived, but i’m glad to be here!” you weren’t planning on drinking a lot tonight, but there sure are a lot of influences around you. a few drinks wouldn’t kill you anyway.

the bitter taste of tequila spread around your mouth, fiery and intense. your face contorted with a grimace as the liquid went down, biting onto the lime barely after a second. leehan smiles in satisfaction and you can only roll your eyes.

the strobe of lights slices through the darkness, casting fleeting glimpses of pleasure on faces flushed with ecstasy while the music fills every corner of the room. “are we not going to dance yet?” you ask him. “let’s wait for everyone else.”

“like who?”

“riwoo, and sungho.”

you couldn’t even care less about the latter, but the mention of riwoo’s name sent a shiver of excitement and nervous energy cascading through your veins. the room seemed to shift, the lights becoming more vibrant, and the sounds more distinct, all because he was coming.

oh, riwoo. you had few interactions with him but there’s just something so captivating in him that draws you closer. the anticipation was thrilling and the mere thought of seeing him made your palms sweat. you lost track of the time that you didn’t notice he had just arrived.

he was wearing a white undershirt, a black zip jacket with collar, a dirty wash color of denim jeans, a wristwatch on his left wrist, and a sunglass that sat above his head, pushing his hair back. the sight of him caught your heart in a delightful turmoil.

‘he looks so fucking good.’ a warm blush crept up your cheeks, and you quickly lowered your gaze, afraid that your eyes would betray the whirlwind of emotions stirring within you.

he flashed his eyebrows as he greeted you with a smile, mischievous and warm. you watch him gulp down the same drink leehan offered earlier. this scene wasn’t new to you, but being around these people is. you were only close with leehan, jaehyun who came with you earlier.

but that’s what friday is for, right? having fun. and you bet it’s gonna be more fun with riwoo and his other friends around.

“what do you think about going wild before going to the dance floor, riwoo?” sungho arches his eyebrows, smirking. “wild? what do you mean?” riwoo asks, looking around, as if he doesn’t know what his friend’s intention was. without giving him a proper answer, sungho pours a drink for riwoo and hands him the saucer of lime and salt.

you're perched on a stool, watching attentively then riwoo walks closer to you.

“do you want to do a body shot?”

the bar's dimly lit pulsing lights created a dazzling array of hues across the floor, reflecting off the mirrored walls and blending with the electric hum of dialogues and music. you can’t help but laugh nervously. did i just get chosen by riwoo? to do a body shot?

“me?” the thought of it seems so wild, so out of the ordinary for a friday night. but the atmosphere is infectious, and the rhythm of the night seems to nudge you towards a yes. cheers and laughter echo around you, creating a clamor of excitement. you see riwoo’s face dominating above, eyes sparkling with playful determination.

“sure, why not?”

with a confident grin, riwoo leaned forward, the warmth of his breath mingling with the faint scent of tequila he drank earlier. he gently sprinkled salt along the curve of your neck.

the room seemed to hold its breath as riwoo licked the salt from your neck, his tongue leaving a trail of tingling sensation that made your knees weak. his lips lingered for a moment longer than necessary, a tempting tease that sent trembles down your spine. riwoo picked up the lime wedge, his fingers brushing against your skin as he held it ready. then, with experienced ease, riwoo threw back the shot. the lime followed, his teeth scraping your fingertips as he sucked the tangy juice, your heart racing at the sheer intimacy of the moment.

the crowd erupts in applause and yells, the noise almost deafening but thrilling all the same. it’s reckless and a bit silly, but in the contagious energy of the night, it feels just right. you didn’t notice how long you’ve been looking at riwoo that he had to snap at you to get your attention.

“what are you looking at? just tell me if you wanna kiss me i’d let you do it.”

he smirks, turning around as he goes back to his friends circling the table with rims of shot glasses lined up. leehan came and wooed, nudging your shoulder with his as he brought another glass of drink.

“i might die before i even get drunk.” you gulped the alcohol in one shot, your cheeks heating up as you barely tried to catch up with everything that was happening around you.

the night deepens and the air becomes thicker with the scent of perfume and sweat. your head starts feeling a little heavy, and your surroundings get a little hazy as the neon lights cast over your face and all around the area. after a few dances, you have been sitting beside your friends for almost an hour as you try to catch up with them, and riwoo is there too.

you were too busy chatting with drunk jaehyun to notice, but riwoo had been stealing you a few glances. a few interactions happened earlier again like him passing the glass to you, or eyes meeting as you laugh together over the story taesan was telling earlier. (like this)

then, the music shifted to a familiar song. without a word, everyone moved to the dance floor. riwoo suddenly grabs your wrist and navigates you through the crowd, following everyone else to the platform. the floor vibrated beneath your feet, and you felt a rush of exhilaration as you danced with wild abandon, your body moving in time with the beat, and mind blissfully blank.

slightly intoxicated, he sways behind you with his grip on your waist, warm and reassuring. the rhythm of the music thrummed through your veins, and suddenly, all the awkwardness and self-consciousness melted away. you moved together, your bodies finding a sync that felt as natural as breathing.

riwoo starts telling something inaudible because of the blasting music.

“what?”

“i said you smell good!” his voice a little louder. you turn around to take a good look at him but his eyes are wandering around. not long after, you caught his attention when you asked him, “really?” and he leaned forward closer to your neck, his warm breath wrapping over your skin as his nose caught the scent of your perfume.

“you do,” he says. “sorry, i’m kinda drunk.” his hand palms over his face, trying to keep himself sober but we all know he’s not.

under the dark lights and swirling haze of the the bar, the unsaid tension burst into something palpable and undeniable. his eyes are deep pools of enigmatic charm. they're the kind of eyes that see through the ordinary, making you feel like you're the most captivating person in the world when his gaze locks with yours. there’s a depth there, a magnetic pull that makes looking away seem impossible.

at that moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just you and riwoo, as if the music and the crowd had faded into the background.

“wanna do it? let's go outside.”

riwoo drags you out of the place as he brings you to the parking lot lit only by the distant, flickering streetlights. you leaned your body against the door of the car’s trunk. not a single figure was seen and riwoo slowly slanted in, narrowing the gap between your lips and faces. the taste of whiskey and something sweet—sunkist, maybe—mingled in the kiss, intoxicating in its own right.

riwoo’s body presses against yours while your fingers trace the back of his neck. it was clumsy and urgent, the kind of kiss that only comes from a place of uninhibited desire, fueled by the haze of alcohol.

you were fazed by how riwoo was enthusiastic with the way his hand was roaming behind your small back, and the other tangling in your hair. his lips moved in sync with yours. he regained his composure and reminded himself of what was happening; he was really kissing you, you were really kissing him, and suddenly the world around the two of you became meaningless.

it was messy and imperfect, yet somehow perfect in its raw intensity. something about the taste of riwoo’s lips was intoxicating, making you need more—need everything. the night was alive with your shared breath, the feverish heat of your kiss cutting through the cool night air. his hands went from the side of your head, down to the back of your neck.

“should they know about this?” you backed away, almost sober.

“why not? shouldn't they know that we just had a hot make out session, and i'm a good kisser?” he sneaks in an arrogant smile, “let's go back.”

as you went back to the pub, riwoo remained on the dance floor to have fun with the guys while you head over to the shared table, finding leehan alone, drunk as you guessed.

“weren't you dancing earlier? taesan and i couldn't find you.”

“don't ask me where i've been. i just made out with riwoo.”

and if there's one thing you've learned that night, riwoo was a crazy bottom-lip kisser :)

i'm going crazy over riwoo and it's not even healthy anymore,, i'm going insane writing nor reading a fic is not enough!! i just need him right Now!!

he's so chase atlantic code here wtf i had to listen to a whole ca playlist while writing this and it fits him so bad!

anyway,,tell me how this went through the comments, reblogs, or wherever!!! i love feedbacks plsplspls

[marigold-hills]

June 21: inhale | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 534

PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART • FIRST PART

Remus, drink in each hand, flushed face, broad smile, heads towards where Sirius is standing. Mary disappears as if they weren’t talking, just walks off without even a pretence of an excuse.

“Made this for you,” Remus pushes one of the drinks into his hand. It’s violently blue, steaming a bit and glistens in the low light of the Common Room.

“What is it?”

“Nothing that will get you too drunk, don’t worry. But try it. You’ll like it.”

Sirius takes it and Remus taps his wand to the side of the glass. The liquid inside swirls, little starts glisten in the shimmering puffs of smoke. It’s almost too pretty to be drunk but Remus is so full of anticipation he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It’s not the liquid but the steam that Sirius has first, inhaling it as he raises the glass to his mouth. It tastes like the first time they got drunk together. (Smuggled firewhiskey they all pretended to enjoy, dark winter night, secrets shared under the cover of alcohol.)

“I found the potion Honeydukes uses. What did you think?”

“I think you’re the most brilliant thing to have ever walked this planet.”

Remus honest to Merlin blushes, tips of his ears and the hollow of his throat all turning red.

“Amazing singing, by the way,” Sirius continues because he wants to see how far he can push it, how flustered can he get his Moony, “and this top… you should show your hipbones off more often.” Places a hand just there, thumb skimming the sharp edge of bone.

It’s more intoxicating than the alcohol, the way Remus breathes in.

“Although I might get jealous if people keep looking at you like this.”

And that, of all things, is what shatters Remus. “Jealous?” He asks, voice like torn parchment, eyes wide.

Sirius thinks oh, don’t you know? You must know, because Remus looks so unsure but so hopeful. Enough to break his own conviction and tell him, right here, right now, tell him about everything… but they’re both drunk. Remus deserves better than something half-baked and alcohol-fuelled.

Before he can make his mind up one way or the other, before the blush disappears from the tip of Moony’s nose (and he wants to kiss him, kiss it, right there), James bounds up to them, energy of a wild animal, mused up hair and a rather impressive trail of hickeys down his neck.

“Alright there, gentlemen?”

Remus is smiling like the interruption doesn’t matter. Sirius doesn’t want to break the contact between them, so he doesn’t, holds onto Moony’s hip, manoeuvres to wrap an arm around his waist.

“Alright, Prongs?”

“I’m in love,” dipy grin, bright eyes.

“We all know that, mate,” Remus laughs.

“Yeah but… ah, it’s… can’t talk about it. I promised.”

Sirius exchanges a look with Moony, both of them eyeing the bruises on James’ neck he definitely didn’t give himself.

“Happy for you.”

“You know what? Me too!” James is exuberance personified. “Let’s do shots about it, yeah?”

So, they do, and then they get a little high with Peter, and the night goes on for so long it feels like it will never end.

@moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies @alltoounwellll @hunnybeemarie @hoje--aqui @annaliza999 @hihimissamericanbi @gipitothefrog @shamelesswolfstarshipper @a-pine-cone @cosmicweeds @cocoabutterandbooks @bloodoffire @residentdisaster @shamelesswolfstarshipper @ravenwordss @prancingpony42 @themoonlovesthestars @starving-marauder-lover

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

[red1culous]

Glass Castle

Rolling onto your side you groan curling up into a fetal position. It seemed the best one to relieve the stabbing pain in your stomach. Once the worst wave of pain passed you wiped the tears from your eyes and grab the remote control deciding to distract yourself with something, anything on the telly. 

Water and medication would have been beneficial but you had no energy and the thought of getting up sounded like a form of medieval torture. Part of you wished you could call someone for help. If only your phone wasn’t out of charge. A self berating wave of self pity washes over you as you finally fall asleep, rigid and spent. 

You were so out of it you barely hear the front door opening 22 minutes later. 

“Y/N? Y/N?” Her voice filters through the fog of your brain. Your eyes flicker open but they feel heavy, like lead. The lights are bright forcing your eyes closed. You will them open again and a blur of dark blue and red hair move in front of you. You feel yourself being shifted. A light shines in your eyes. 

“Nat?” you groan when a light sting spreads across your cheek. 

“C’mon now you need to drink some water” she says leaning over you helping you get upright. 

The minute her hands are on you, you remember you hadn’t showered in days and probably looked like death personified. 

“You shouldn’t be here. You could get infected” you try but fail to hide the numb, somnolent panic to your plea. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says calmly, staring her determination into you. Her green eyes blazed, indomitable, and she was never more beautiful than she was right then. 

She hands you a glass of coconut water. “Drink” she instructs.

You gladly accept it taking a generous gulp. A little trickles down your chin and you quickly wipe it with the sleeve of your shirt. You notice that your clothes aren’t stiff with your own crusty dried vomit. The realisation hits you like a tonne of bricks when you look down and see yourself in a fresh set of joggers and matching tee. 

“You changed me?” you ask. 

“Yes.” She nods as your face turns a beet red. “I also gave you a sponge bath well because…” she trails off before quickly adding, “Why? Self conscious?”

“Urgh,” you groan loudly and she chuckles. “Only that I shit myself and was covered in vomit. Not exactly how I pictured you seeing me for the first time, you know?”

“You pictured that huh?” she asks smirking.

You screw your eyes shut and wrinkle your nose realising that you had just exposed one of your deepest secrets to her. 

“You’re not a good person, picking on a dying person” you say your eyes still closed. 

She starts to laugh and you feel the whole bed shake with her. “You’re not dying. And I never said I was a good person” she says enjoying herself. 

This makes you look at her. And once you do you’re trapped by the foliant blaze of her green eyes. She doesn’t look away. You watch each other. Her eyes were softer, far softer than you had ever remembered them. 

She then pushes a lock of hair behind her ear with her thumb and forefinger. You find that you liked the hard-edged cleverness of her conversation, and the easy way she held your eyes until the precise moment when it stopped being comfortable, like right now, and then smiles, softening the assail, but never looking away. 

She knew. She had to know. 

-----

I have a taglist if you want to be on it.

@arcturusseer @readings-stuff @blackwidow-3 @justyourwritter69 @cutelittleakira @jareguiromanoff @sk1nnyftt @official-clint-barton @nattysredhair @black-kittycat18 @owloftheshadows @angryalpacachaos @iliketozoneout @marvelonmymind @wastdstime @lovelyy-moonlight @beholdagaywriter @inluvwithfictionalwomen @33-mrvl

[whencyclopedia]

Soma

Soma was a fermented juice drink which was believed to have been consumed by the Hindu gods and their ancient priests, the brahmanas, during rituals. Thought to be an elixir its consumption not only healed illness but also brought great riches. Soma is personified by the god of the same name who is also the god of sacrifices and who may, in some texts, be associated with the Moon. The drink is famously described and praised in a Mandala of the sacred Hindu text, the Rigveda.

The Drink Soma

Perhaps first used in ancient Persia, Soma juice may have derived from the fermented milky sap of Asclepias acida, a climbing plant which thrives in mountain areas. Other candidates for the origin of the drink, or partial ingredients therein, include hallucinogenic mushrooms, honey, cannabis, blue lotus, milk, and pomegranate.

In mythology, the gods gained their immortality by drinking Soma and it was the favourite tipple of the great god Indra. They then gave the drink to the archer-god Gandharva for safe-keeping but one day Agni, the fire-god, stole it and gave it to the human race. Not only drunk by priests for its sacred nature it was also credited with uplifting qualities, giving the drinker a boost in energy and alertness. These effects meant that the drink has been considered divine since ancient times; a beverage which brought humans closer to the divine. It was also commonly offered in libations to the gods by worshippers.

Continue reading...

[ghostydrawsstuff]

Alright I'm in the mood for some more headcannons! And this time it's about kissing~ hehe

Slenderman:

•He's not really a 'romance' guy, tbh you already have slim chances at survival if you're human, but on the odd chance he does, for whatever reason, gets close with you, he'll take great care of you.

•Kisses with him will be rare, for once since what exactly would you even kiss? But if you're okay with that or him ripping open his skin to reveal his mouth to kiss that he'll do it on special occasions.

•He'll slowly cup your cheeks, giving you more than enough time to pull away or stop him if you so desire. If you don't, he'll pull you as close as possible and press you against his face. If you're okay with his ripped mouth ya will get some of the black blood on you, but he secretly likes seeing how it looks on your skin, smearing it to make it cover more of your beautifull face.

•He tastes like the smell of campfire and the refreshing scent of rain, with a faint taste of cinnamon. It'll make you yearn for more, but he doesn't show his love/affection for you very often, so it's more of a special treat whenever he does.

Splendorman:

•He's very shy and if you want this man to get the hint you will have to tell him. Pretty much any signs go over his head or he'll just take it as a platonic compliment.

•He gives kisses all the time once you're together, whenever he's proud of you or just happy you're willing to spend your time with him. So, you're gonna get little pecks all the time, usually on the cheek, forehead or on the nose (those are his favourite spots).

•Though for more intimate kind of kisses he'll still slip back to his more shy side, he rarely falls inlove with people so he's still not confident and very easily flustered.

•Most of the time when you kiss him he'll wrap his arms around you, so tight it almost hurts, but he just loves you so much and wants to keep you safe! And if you get on top of him while you're smooching him, he'll be putty underneath you and just an absolute blushing mess. A content blushing mess though.

•As one might expect, he tastes sweet, like a chocolate covered strawberry and a lot like energy drinks. You've really tried to convince him to lay off of them, but oh well habits am I right?

Trenderman:

•He's a great kisser in all honesty, even without lips it somehow feels just right. Yet he never really does it frequently. He's a hard worker, sometimes he's just so deep into a project you'd hardly see him at all for a few days, but he will always leave the door to his work room open for you to join him if you so wish.

•One of his favourites way of kissing his a upside down kiss, especially if you're sitting infront of him, leaning your head back and on top of his lap, whenever you do this he just wants to lean down and steal your breath away.

•No matter how often he kisses you, you'll still always be surprised how sweet he tastes, similar to bubblegum, but also faintly flowery, like a botanic garden you just entered. It's nice and it always manages to calm you down after a long stressfull day of your own, like your own little safe space, just in person.

Offenderman:

•Oh boy horny personified! As you might guess he likes kissing you a lot and in pretty much any place. Your shoulder, mouth, hips, hands or personal favourite, neck. He loves teasing you by it, especially if you're more on the shy side of things.

•He likes many different positions, but if you two are actually close he'll make sure to go more after things you're into, but he loves kissing you deeply on the lips, one hand holding your cheek as the other either rests around your waists or teasing you by caressing your body as he explores your mouth with his tongue. He likes being deep inside of you in so many not appropriate ways.

•He's usually on top of you while kissing you, pressing you down against whatever it is you two are laying or sitting on. But occasionally he's more than down for you to take the lead, to sit on his lap and reach up for him or crawl on top of his torso to lean over him. Of course he's not gonna let you do all the work (he'd much rather always give than expect something and not receive) so he'll obviously still tease you until you can't take it anymore.

•Somehow his taste always makes you crave more, it's almost like a drug rushing through your blood. There things that nothing can wash away, so you'll always taste the faint remnants of smoke and blood, but there's always something to sweeten the deal, like dark chocolate making you want to just melt and he's fully aware of it.

[discretocincel]

When skies are black

The last time I finished a story was so fucking long ago and I was starting to think I'd never do it again, but then I found a little guy with anxiety and depression and an asexual serial killer and my writer's block was cured (not really, but we're getting there!)

Anyway, I made something for RadioApple Week 2024! Today's prompt was Late Night/Early Morning, go check it out on AO3:

00:44

After long shootings, it had become a habit for Angel Dust to go sit at the bar with Husk, no matter how exhausted he was. It helped him feel like himself again, not only distracted but centered him, having the other’s eyes on him, listening to ruthless remarks in that raggedy low voice of his, forcing down some water to try to recover a tenth of the fluids he lost in the long filming hours. The man had become his sanctuary, and Angel wasn’t ashamed to admit it. In fact, he did it often, hoping to get the message across even when the barkeep refused to acknowledge the truth behind it. Angel didn’t mind much. He was in for the long run, so he would enjoy the chase while it lasted—he knew it would only make the catch all the more satisfying.

That Thursday evening, however, his sanctuary was already occupied when he made it to the hotel. Angel kept the disappointment off his face; he didn’t want to make the intruder feel bad, not if he could help it. He’d been surprised at first, to realize that their sovereign was just as volatile and emotional as his daughter, but it only made the little guy more endearing in his eyes. He genuinely didn’t want to see him upset, and not because he feared for his life in his anger (although after the extermination, he was reminded that Lucifer Morningstar truly was on another level, and perhaps he should be, if only a little, afraid for his life).

“Your Majesty, hey! I wasn’t expecting to see you up so late! Can’t sleep?”

“Angel! Welcome back!” Lucifer replied with a nervous grin, and he bashfully rubbed the back of his neck as he angled himself towards the sinner in a way he didn’t turn his back on Husk. “Is it really that late?”

“Well, no, it’s not that late, but don’t you usually go to bed quite early? You’re the first one to leave after dinner!”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess…” The king avoided his eye, downing what was left of his drink before elaborating. “I like to read before falling asleep, so it’s not that I fall asleep as soon as I go to my room, you know.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Angel conceded, repressing the urge to make a dirty joke at the king’s expense. “Then what happened tonight? Did ya run out of books or something?”

“I just wasn’t in the mood to start anything new, is all.”

“Understandable,” Husk grumbled as he slipped a delicious looking mocktail towards Angel. “People underestimate the energy required to get to know new characters in fiction. Can I get you another one, Your Highness?” He nodded at the king’s empty tumbler.

“Please.”

“Now Husky, baby, got any fun tidbits about the new residents?” Angel asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he sipped on the pink straw of his sugary drink. Just because they weren’t alone didn’t mean they couldn’t talk like they usually would, especially considering their company. He didn’t know what had the monarch in such a jumpy state, not that he normally was calm personified, but he was kicking his feet in the air and fidgeting in his chair more than usual. Angel needed to unwind, and apparently so did The Devil, and he knew that good gossip about souls they couldn’t care less about always helped lighten the mood.

The bartender immediately caught his drift, his perceptiveness being just another trait of his that had the spider head over heels, and he placed his forearm on the bar to lean closer towards them, giving them an air of confidentiality that was hardly needed given the time and place, but was appreciated nevertheless. Husk’s insight to the newcomers’ vices, fears and desires was always delightfully detailed and usually right, no matter how farfetched it seemed. Not long ago on that very bar he had revealed what he believed of their king, though he had yet to relieve anything about the demon that owned his soul. Angel was madly curious, but also too terrified to press for information on that front. Some secrets were best left untold.

Without truly noticing, Angel finished off his third mocktail of the night, preceded by two full glasses of water, while Husk opened up a brand-new bottle of whisky for the king, when the familiar goosebumps warned him of yet another intruder to their evening. It was a small mercy that Husk hadn’t given him a drop of alcohol, otherwise, he just knew he would’ve made something crazy when the Radio Demon materialized from the shadows right behind Lucifer like the creepy motherfucker he was. Angel wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or he was just that immutable, but the king didn’t even flinch when a bony hand came to rest on his shoulder. Whether he was foolish or brave, Angel still had to admire the guy for his lack of a response.

Except, it wasn’t that he didn’t react, he would soon realize with the violence of an unexpected bucket of cold water falling on him. He just didn’t react the right way. Because who the fuck would smile in delight at having the fucking Radio Demon lean against them?!

“Good evening, gentlemen! What a pleasant surprise to find you all here this late in the night.”

“Yeah, wish I could say the same to you,” Husk grumbled. “What are you doing here so late, anyway?”

“He was at a party!” Lucifer revealed with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Just a small gathering. It would’ve been far nicer without some of the guests, sadly.”

Angel forgot how to breathe for a moment when he saw Lucifer pout and send the Radio Demon a dejected look as he said: “Then why did you stay so long?”

Alastor blinked a few times, and Angel expected to see his eyes turn into radio dials at any moment, but it didn’t happen. The sinner simply appeared amused, if only a little tense.

“How much did you drink, Your Majesty?”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“No, I’m not. It is a dumb question. You should go to bed, Your Majesty. I shall go, too. I’m rather tired. Sleep tight, gentlemen.”

Alastor sank back into the shadows, and the king stood up abruptly not a second later, the angry scratch of the wooden floor making Angel Dust jump slightly in his own stool.

“Well. He’s right. I guess it is time for me to go to bed. Sweet dreams, Angel. Husker. Thanks for the lovely night. I’m sorry if I bothered you…”

“No way, I had fun!” Angel said, a bit awkward, thoughts reeling with distant possibilities, each one more insane than the last, but not insincerely. “We should do it again.”

“I’d like that,” Lucifer agreed, his own forced smile softening into a more genuine, gentle thing. “Good night.”

“So… that was weird, right?” Angel asked in a nearly hysterical whisper to the bartender as soon as they were alone.

“I am not acknowledging that, and neither should you. You had a long day. Go to sleep.”

Angel frowned. “You’re no fun!”

Husk sighed, but the lines around his eyes were kind, even if his mouth fought a smile.

“Maybe I’ll entertain you at a different time. I don’t think you’re ready to hear it, Legs.”

Angel’s heart skipped a beat, focusing on all the wrong parts of that sentence. He wanted to ask more; he knew whatever juicy story Husk was keeping from him was bound to make life at the hotel a hundred times more exciting, but when a gentle hand rested softly on top of his, a thumb delicately brushing over his knuckles, Angel’s knees went weak, his feet slipped from the stool’s cross stretcher and he nearly stomped his face on the bar like an idiot. He wasn’t even drunk! He was a master of seduction! How was it possible that the other man never failed to make him lose his cool and mind with the most innocent gestures?

“Go to bed, Angie. It’s late, and you’re tired. I won’t stay much longer either.”

“Okay,” he replied softly, slightly out of breath. It was the perfect time to ask the bartender to keep him company, to share his bed with him, to become more than what they were. But he couldn’t. The words just wouldn’t form on his tongue, stuck to the roof of his mouth as it was.

But that was okay. He knew he would have another chance, maybe on another night like that. Maybe after having some alcohol himself, with their king as company. And if the Radio Demon joined them at some point, well, maybe then Husk would finally give in and reveal all those secrets he kept, some even about himself, if he was lucky.

♪

03:33

“You’re drunk,” Alastor repeated as soon as Lucifer materialized in the sinner’s bedroom. “I didn’t even know that you could get drunk.”

“I wanted to be up when you returned,” Lucifer confessed, still pouting. The insufferable king had no right to be that adorable. It did unspeakable things to Alastor’s heart.

“I told you I’d be late.”

“I know. I didn’t care.”

“Clearly, you did. You’re upset.”

“No! But you said it was boring, and yet you stayed all this time! It’s suspicious!”

Alastor frowned in disbelief. “Suspicious? How, exactly? What are you accusing me of?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything. I just…” Lucifer sighed, and his shoulders sagged, as if all anger and tension was physically abandoning him. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being ridiculous. How was the gathering? How was Rosie?”

“It was exactly what I expected. Nothing more and nothing less. Rosie was alright. She sent you her regards.”

“Were the Vees there? All three of them?”

“Yes. As expected.”

Lucifer nodded his head weakly, still standing in the middle of the room, where he’d appeared, with his boots, coat and hat on.

Alastor narrowed his eyes, studying the man in front of him like he had just located the missing pieces that made sense of the picture in the puzzle.

“Did you have fun talking with Angel Dust and Husk?” He asked conversationally, walking towards the cabinet that stored his liquor as he undid the buttons of his coat. His ears moved to show that he was listening as Lucifer mumbled an answer, some story about a newcomer named ‘Steven’ or ‘Stephen’ or something like that, but Alastor wasn’t paying attention to the meaning of the words as much as he was focusing on the way they were spoken. His bowtie came next, pulling it off with one hand as he poured himself a finger of whisky. Then, after savoring his first long sip, he continued with the buttons of his shirt. His smirk widened as Lucifer’s tone went higher and higher the more skin Alastor revealed.

“What, what about you? Did you have fun? Did you speak with Vox?”

Finally. All Alastor had to do was take off his shirt, and the King of Hell easily revealed all that was troubling his mind and heart.

“I didn’t,” he said.

Lucifer frowned. “What, like nothing at all? Didn’t you at least say hi? You said it was a small gathering, no more than twelve people. You couldn’t possibly have avoided him all night. You were there for hours!”

“I didn’t avoid him as much as I ignored him, my dear. After a couple of laughable attempts, he stopped trying altogether.”

“Oh.”

Alastor hummed as he went to sit on the foot of his bed. Once there, he extended one arm in invitation, to which the other responded by flying to his side, wrapping his arms around Alastor’s middle and pushing him back on the bed. With his face pressed against Alastor’s bare chest, Lucifer mumbled:

“Good. I don’t want you talking to him. At all. Never again.”

“Even if it is to tell him that my heart belongs to another?”

Lucifer’s breath hitched, the hold he had on the sinner tightened before relaxing, and he slowly lifted his head to look up at him with eyes shiny with tears.

“You can tell him that. But I want to be there when you do.”

Alastor’s grin widened even further, while his own arms circled the shorter man, awkwardly pulling to bring their faces closer.

“Deal,” he said, and they sealed it with a kiss.

[baconcolacan]

SORRY FOR DOUBLE POSTING BUT I THOUGHT ABOUT THE OTHER MAIN 4 SHIPS TISKSKD

TomEdd is a very slow burn, but it has always been warm. Do you remember what it’s like to have a crush on someone you thought was very cool? You become friends and that warm feeling has always been constant when you’re together. It’s soft and gradual, it’s light touches and years of smiling at each other, you start to feel like you’re home.

EddMatt is a really Fun and Funny ship for me. It’s two main characters coming together in a crossover, except one is from a slice of life show and the other is from a fantasy. It’s a very high energy relationship, it’s exciting and bursting at the seams with ideas and passion. Have you ever had someone who’s basically your favorite caffeinated drink personified? They come into the room and suddenly your deep bone tiredness goes away like it was never there, and they smile at you and you feel as though you’re never going to get tired again.

TordMatt for me is a relationship that started off on the wrong foot. Their egos don’t match and they might have said or done somethings that rubbed the other the wrong way, but part of them holds some kind of respect for the other. I always thought that Tord thought Matt was so cool for being so unapologetically himself, that he could openly like himself when Tord seemed to always hate who he was. Matt on the other hand thinks the same except that Tord seemingly doesn’t care about what other people think of him, when Matt cares a whole lot. I think they could help each other heal. They’re the relationship that talks in whispers together in the dead of night, when everyone else is asleep, and they spend their restless night together, fingers laced, looking up at the ceiling, saying things they wouldn’t in the morning.

EddTord is the bestfriends to lovers to enemies to friends and MAYBE lovers ship. I always thought that they would fit a passionate doomed romance narrative. They start out so great, it’s love and passion and laughter, running off on adventures together, hands held tight, eyes on each other at all times. Then it’s tears and screamed words, betrayal and regret, history cast aside and hands reaching out to nothing. Then it’s quiet, a lingering look, words unsaid, unsteady peace and a longing to hold again. ‘Hey, do you remember when I smiled at you for the first time?’

[miscellaneoussmp]

I need to start writing more fluff/comfort stuff. Here's Pac and Tubbo needing sleep and Fit gets them to go to bed:

It had been twenty-six, no twenty-seven hours, since Tubbo or Pac had even attempted resting. Hyped up on overly sweet swiftness potions, which sent jolts of energy up their spins meant to be used for running instead of being used to prolong wakefulness. An extra hour to finish up one thing turned to the sun rising and now sitting below where it had sat the day before when the project started.

Conversation was easy. Being filled with possible reasons why Tubbo's current project was being very difficult, how the swiftness potion almost acts like caffeine, and ways to describe the buzzing underneath their skin. Electrical heat, Tubbo described. Pure adrenaline, Pac replied. Memories attached to those descriptions remained unspoken or forgotten.

Tubbo lays under his machine, with a wrench in his hand. They had taken to calling the machine Tubbo's new baby, dubbing it Tub Jr. Both ignored the ache in their chests as they personified the machine. Pac's potion-making setup was makeshift for now. Swiftness and the occasional night vision brew in the stand. He knows that these potions would be more effective if he had a proper setup. Pac didn't bother to cork the bottles over half the time. Instead, he immediately downs them or slides them under the gap in the machine where Tubbo lays.

Pac sat leaning over a potion stand, and Tubbo under a machine is the scene Fit walks in on. When Pac stands up to greet him, he stumbles just a tiny bit. Tubbo almost hits his head while squirming out from under his project. Fit is a bit surprised to see them back in their exact positions from yesterday. After all, he assumed they went to bed after he left for the night. He was incorrect, very obviously incorrect. The dark circles under Pac's eyes–moreso eye, the one that isn't covered by his dark hair–are more noticeable than before. Once Tubbo removes his goggles, his dark circles become obvious as well. The youngest of the three grabbed one of light blue potions, uncorking it with his teeth and drinks. He shakes his head slightly as he feels the buzz strengthen itself underneath his skin.

When Fit asks how long they've been awake. Tubbo and Pac give different answers, both unsure on the exact timing. Tubbo explained that he needed to fix this one thing, and he just couldn't figure it out. This is when Fit, half jokingly suggests sleep. Pac explains they don't need sleep since as long as you stayed pretty still a swiftness potion could act like caffeine.

It actually didn't make much convincing after he suggested a sleepover in the room so they could get back to work after waking up. Pillows and blankets found their way to the floor, far enough from any mechanical parts as not to get caught on anything.

Of course, Tubbo would be the type to spread out fully as he sleeps. It fits his personality. A pillow lays on one his arms and another under his head. He looks comfortable.

Pac is the type to sleep on his side, curled up with one hand grabbing onto the pillow under him and the other covering his face. It definitely fits his personality. A blanket sits on top of him. He looks comfortable.

Fit is the type to watch over his friends as they get well-deserved sleep.

[mochegato]

Champagne Tango

The club was raging.  Even for a weekend night, it was busy.  They had exceeded capacity an hour ago, but people were still lined up down the street.  Anyone who mattered in Gotham’s black underbelly, and even a good portion of the ‘legitimate’ influencers, were there, yet Jason’s eyes kept going back to the woman sitting at the bar, a woman who for all intents and purposes had no established influence in Gotham.  And yet, he couldn’t force his attention away from her.

He had no idea who she was, but the perfectly tailored, silky, green dress that clung to her curves in all the right places revealing a hint of her curves without exposing too much, suggested she had money or connections or both.  By all appearances, she should be a player, but there was nobody in Gotham who mattered, illegitimate or not, that he didn’t know, which meant either she was brand new to Gotham, or she was that rare specimen; a legitimate, hardworking, person who wasn’t working an angle.

He tried to focus on the club, he really did.  The club needed it with all the activity going on and competing factions present.  But his eyes kept shifting unbidden to her spot at the bar, like a beacon of light in the dark night.  He would almost focus his attention back onto the rowdy crowd, after all she wasn’t the first woman oozing sensuality in his club, though she might be the most effective, and he had a job to do, but then she would turn his direction, and he would catch sight of her radiant smile and her eyes sparkling with humor and innocence.  Every time she would laugh, truly laugh, not just giggle, but truly laugh from her heart, she would throw her head back, her dark hair sweeping back in a mesmerizing cascade of movement that he was powerless to turn away from.

For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why she would be in the Iceberg Lounge, in his place.  Despite what the crystalline exterior indicated, the club was a beacon to the dark and bitter.  The exact opposite of everything she seemed to personify.  She could not have been more out of place.  He couldn’t even blame it on her date… Partner?  Acquaintance.  Acquaintance sounded much better.  He couldn’t even blame it on her acquaintance, because his energy seemed to match hers; bright and light but his was cloyingly sweet.

Much to his dismay, he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t keep their eyes off her.  He watched as person after person came over to her to strike up a conversation, all lingering a bit longer and a bit closer than he was comfortable with.  Quite a few of them he wasn’t comfortable with being in the same building as her let alone close enough to touch her.

Fortunately, he wasn’t alone in his dislike of the attention.  The man with her did not look at all happy about that turn of events, glaring daggers at the interlopers and more than once, physically removing them from their presence.  But he seemed to be dealing with his fair share of unwanted attention as himself, but he was having none of it, refusing to divert his attention from her, much like Jason.

It was entirely due to that attention that Jason caught the move that set his skin on edge.  The man had handed her a drink with a smile and a mischievous glint in his otherwise boyish gaze.  Jason had been working with and against low-lives long enough to know that look indicated nothing good was about to follow.  Something was about to happen, something the woman wouldn’t particularly enjoy, if he didn’t monitor the situation.

Unfortunately, nobody in the club was willing to allow him to do so.  He almost bit his manager’s head off when she mentioned yet another crisis that demanded Jason’s attention.  It was like the entirety of Gotham was out to mess with him.  He couldn’t catch a break and just fucking breathe… while he intently watched the gorgeous woman whose name he didn’t know.

But as soon as that crisis was averted, another inevitably popped up.  Don’t get him wrong, he had no issue with low-lives taking each other out, just not in his club.  Doing it in his club left a lot of paperwork for him and it meant even more dealing with police, a task he avoided as much as possible.  The endless crises were a constant frustration, one that was putting him more and more on edge until his staff was afraid to report to him.

It was getting late in the night, not quite early hours of the morning when he was finally able to take a moment to return to his observation post, seemingly just in time.  The man was intently watching the woman, the mischievous glint had turned diabolical.  And the woman was noticeably less in control of her movements, sloppier in her laughs, wider in her smiles.  Even without having watched her for most of the night, he would have known something was off.

“Jorge!” he greeted casually, but his voice held a tell-tale tightness the bartender instantly recognized.

Jorge finished making his drink and collecting the money before making his way quickly but nonchalantly to his boss’ side.  “Hey, Mr. Todd.  What’s going on?”

Rather than directly addressing him, Jason scanned the room as he spoke.  “How many has she had?”

“Who?”  He looked up and down the bar quickly before his eyes settled on the popular, dark-haired woman at the end of the bar.  “Oh, her,” he chuckled.  “Only two, boss.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at an insignificant spot on the far wall.  “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” Jorge answered confidently.  “She was getting into an argument with her date there over it.  He didn’t want her to have any alcohol and then kept trying to talk her out of getting more.”

That made Jason pause.  “He was trying to talk her out of it?” he asked carefully.

“Yes, sir.  I know what you’re thinking, but if he was trying to get her sloshed to take advantage of her, wouldn’t he be trying to get her drunk?”

Jason hummed in consideration.  “Maybe.  Or maybe the alcohol would interfere with the drugs he’s using.”  He studied her again to catalog any indication of how far gone she was.  But he didn’t need to look so closely as in the same moment, she turned toward the man and almost fell into his lap, giggling raucously at the slip.  “Have you ever seen anyone that drunk off of two drinks?”

“No,” Jorge admitted begrudgingly.  “Not without a bit of assistance.”

Jason nodded in agreement and was moving instantly with a discrete motion to his security when the man eased her up, encouraging her to lean into his embrace as he moved her toward the exit and away from witnesses.  The security team had descended on the man, arms pinned to his side and mouth enveloped, before he had taken more than a handful of steps.  “Take care of him, as a guest of our establishment,” Jason instructed one of his men, motioning toward the man.

“How severely?” he asked as his men rapidly ushered him off of the floor.

“I don’t have a read on the situation yet.  Just hold him for now.  Once I find out, I’ll text you.”  He watched the woman as she looked around in a circle that she couldn’t seem to break out of, almost stumbling off her heels as her body started to lean a bit too much to one side as she spun.  Jason was at her side and supporting her with a hand on her elbow before gravity could take effect.

“I might want to handle it myself,” he growled almost to himself as he turned back to the woman, his scowl fading into a soft smile.  “Hey, sweetheart,” he had to fight the chuckle that built up in his chest when she looked up at him just to wrinkle her nose at the name, and he made a mental note not to use that again… unless he wanted to see the cute nose wrinkles again.  “I think you should sit down.”

She looked around sloppily, her whole body moving with her head, causing her to stumble deeper into Jason’s embrace, which was the only thing keeping her from falling.  She looked back up at him, eyes wide.  "Am I not?"

“No, you are not, but you definitely should be.”  He helped ease her back onto her seat before he continued.  “Look, I’m not going to mince words…”

“Why would you mince words?” she interrupted, her nose wrinkles making another appearance.  “Oh!  Do you have mince pies here?”  She looked up and down the bar expectantly.  “I’d love a mince pie.”

“No,” Jason started slowly.  He waited for her to realize there were no mince pies but she continued to search the bar until she stood up on the rungs of the stool so she could lean over the bar, braced on her hands, for a better view.  At least until she apparently forgot her hands were supporting her and sloppily shoved the hair that had swung into her face, behind her ear.  Jason dove to stop her momentum, only breathing a sigh of relief when he wrapped his arm securely around her waist and yanked her back before she could topple ass over heels behind the bar.

She was right about one thing anyway, he grumbled mentally, she desperately needed something in her stomach to soak up the alcohol.  He nodded to Jorge as he eased her back into her seat and waited until she began to eat one of the rolls Jorge placed in front of her before he continued.  “What I meant to say was, I think you've been drugged.”

“What?” she gasped loudly, both her hands darting to her mouth a bit harder than she intended, one still holding a roll, but she didn’t seem to notice.  “Oh no!”  She scrunched her nose.  “With mince?”

“With mi…” he exhaled deeply and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  “No.  Not with mince.  With your drink.”

She eyed the glass in front of her suspiciously for so long Jason could have sworn she’d forgotten what was going on.  “No, that doesn’t sound right,” she shook her head slowly, eyes never leaving the glass.  “I didn’t have a lager and that’s a lager glass.”

Jason stared at her for a beat before he could force himself to continue.  She could get the glass type right but not follow the conversation.  “No,” he corrected patiently and pushed the glass away from her.  “That wasn’t your drink…”  He paused to allow her to fill in her name, but instead of responding, she continued to stare at the glass accusatorily.  “What’s your name?” he prompted.

She turned her accusatory stare from the glass to him.  “I’m not telling you my name.  I don’t know you and you called me ‘Sweetheart’,” she pouted dramatically even as she ripped a chunk of the roll with more aggression than necessary.

Jason grinned at the expression.  “Sorry.  I’ll find a better nickname in the future.  I’m Jason.  Jason Todd.”

She grinned brightly and held out her hand for him.  Her eyes were back to sparkling, lighting up this portion of the already well lit bar.  “Hi, Jason.  I’m Marinette.”

He couldn’t stop the laugh this time as he shook her hand.  “It’s a pleasure, Marinette.”  He held her hand a few beats longer than necessary but dropped it quickly when he realized what he was doing.  “Okay, Marinette, I’d like to see what you were given then take you home.”

She gasped and her eyes lit up even brighter, so bright he swore they could light the way for him to wander through the darkness until he found his way to her.  "You're taking me to your home?  Ooohhh!  I’m so curious what your home looks like."  He was about to correct her when she scrunched her nose again and he lost his train of thought.  "It isn't all dark and broody like you, is it?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, but she had already looked away and was motioning toward Jorge, who started filling a glass for her.  "I have a bet going with Adrien.  I said I don't think there's blood stains."  She happily took the glass from Jorge with a quick ‘thank you’ and an appreciative grin, which disappeared as soon as she took a sip of the clear liquid.  “This doesn’t taste right.”

“No, it does,” Jorge assured her.

“Are you sure?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yep,” Jorge answered with a wink to Jason.

“Where does he think there's blood stains?” Jason interrupted before she could continue.

Marinette took another drink before responding, humming happily at the cool liquid.  “Oh, he thinks they're everywhere.”

“I do not have blood stains in my home!” he objected.

“Yay!” she cheered as she bounced in her seat… a little too hard, as it turned out.  She didn’t entirely miss the seat on her last bounce, just enough for her to tip off the seat and into Jason, who grabbed her just in time to stop her from landing face first in his lap, and returned her to her seat in one smooth movement.  “I win my bet!  Adrien owes me a drink,” she continued without missing a beat.

“Yeah, I think you've had quite enough to drink,” he chuckled, his heart still racing slightly from the almost fall even if hers wasn’t.

“I've only had two,” she pouted indignantly and kept pointed eye contact with him as she lifted the glass to her lips.

“Yes, I'm aware.  Let's go.” He motioned toward his office.

“Where are we going?"  She gasped excitedly.  "Are we going to dance?" She grabbed his arm and started to pull him toward the dance floor.  “I always wanted to learn to tango.”

“No,” he used her grip in him to direct her back to her chair.  He settled his hands on her shoulders.  “That song definitely isn’t a tango and you're going home.”

She gasped.  “To your home?"  She furrowed her brow disapprovingly.  "I'm not interested in having sex with you."  She turned away to grab her purse, which Jason had to return to the rather distraught owner.  "I mean I am, but not tonight.  I don't know you.  I need to wine and dine you first.  I’m more of a coffee shop AU kind of girl than a one-night stand girl anyway.  This booty does not receive calls."  She paused at the snort Jason let out and turned to him slowly, eyes wide, cheeks darkening.  "What I meant to say..."

"Don't worry about it, Pixie,” he waved her off with a chuckle, “you're..."

"…is I’m more of a friends to lovers kind of girl.  And you have to meet my friends before we can become lovers.  They have to approve.  ‘If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends’,” she sang terribly off key and waved her fingers like conducting an orchestra, thrusting her arms far out wider than necessary and almost smacking the woman next to her.

He stared at her.  "Right.  I’d love to do that.  Are your friends nearby now?  Can I talk to them?”

“I don’t know why I just sang that song.  I hate that song.  It’s so annoying,” she pouted as she popped a piece of bread in her mouth… or at least she tried to.  The bread missed her mouth spectacularly, flying past her face and hitting the man behind her in the back of his head.

Jason managed to glare the man into submission, waiting until he walked away to return his attention to her, and nodded flippantly.  “Yeah, yeah.  It worms its way into your brain like Scarecrow’s gas.  So, are your fri…”

She turned to him; her expression serious.  “I think there may be something in this drink.  I can’t taste the food anymore.”  He opened his mouth to respond but snapped it shut when her nose did the adorable scrunching thing as she returned her focus to her glass, holding it up to the light and examining the liquid suspiciously.

“Why don’t we get a new one,” he offered with a motion to Jorge.  “Now, your friends?”

“My friend was around here somewhere,” she trailed off as she looked around the room, her head whipped about uncoordinatedly and suddenly stilled.  She scrunched her eyes closed with a groan, seemingly not noticing how her body was lilting to the side.

Jason just managed to get his arm between her and the bar before her body made contact.  “Okay, you're going now."

"You're kicking me out?” she gasped, her head whipping toward him and her eyes immediately scrunching closed again with a groan.  She grabbed her head, messing up her hair’s perfect Veronica Lake sleekness.  “That was a mistake,” she moaned.  She slowly lowered her head to the bar and let it rest there for a few moments before taking a deep breath and sitting back up again, her eyes back on Jason, wide and pleading.  “I've never been kicked out of anywhere!  What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," he assured her.

She shook her head, eyes starting to turn glassy.  "But I must have if you're kicking me out."

"I'm not..." he let out a long, labored breath.  "It’s so I can test you for what drugs you were given."

Her eyes that had been glassy moments before were now wide with alarm.  "I’ve been drugged?  Oh no!"

Jason pressed his lips together so tightly nothing could be seen but a thin white line both from exasperation and trying not to laugh.  "Look kid…”

Marinette let out an offended gasp and looked around hastily, attempting to rapidly catalog who was nearby, but quit and rested her head with a groan again almost immediately.  Jason rested his chin on his fist and pushed her back into her seat with a weary sigh.  She leaned toward Jason to establish some secrecy.  “You let kids in here?” she demanded in a slightly louder than normal voice to be heard over the music.  “You should be ashamed of yourself.  I thought better of you.”

“We do not let…  We have a strict policy…” Jason sputtered.  “I meant you!”

She quirked her head to the side and watched him curiously.  “You thought I was a kid, and you still gave me alcohol?”

Jason opened and shut his mouth.  “No, I didn’t.”

She stared at him analytically, eyes narrowing to help focus her attention.  Finally, she seemed to accept his words as her expression softened.  “Your eyes are the most unique shade of blue,” she noted breathlessly as if in awe.

Jason snorted and quickly looked away.  Or she didn’t accept his words so much as forgot what they were talking about.  He turned back to her, eyes slightly narrowed as he considered her, watching attentively as she picked up the new glass of water Jorge set in front of her.  “How did you end up here?” he asked before he could stop himself.  It was something he’d been wondering about all night and there was no better time to ask.

She grinned brightly.  “I know what you’re thinking,” she chirped.  “What’s a place like this doing in a girl like me.”

Jason had to focus on not steadying the drink in her hand as she waved it while she talked.  “Something like that,” he answered distractedly.

She settled the drink on the bar and leaned closer to Jason, excitement clear in her eyes.  “We wanted to celebrate.  We wanted to go somewhere we could have fun and not be judged.”

“Certainly, there were better places to do that,” he insisted incredulously.  His place was not the place sweet kids went to celebrate.  “You have to have known the reputation of this place.”

She scowled and leaned away from him, brow furrowed in disapproval, all signs of excitement gone.  “Just because someone says someone else is bad doesn’t mean they are.  People can be assholes and usually it isn’t the people with the worst reputations.  It’s almost always the people who are the loudest about it.”  She rested her elbows on the bar to stabilize herself as she took another drink.  “I like to make up my own mind, thank you very much.  And I’ve been having a damn fine night.  Nobody judging us… until now.”

She stared at him pointedly with her last statement, which honestly impressed him.  He hadn’t thought she was capable of it in her state.  He might have even let her know how impressed he was but he was too distracted by her words.  “And,” he started slowly, “is there something to judge you about?”

She scoffed and looked back at her drink.  “I’m Chinese, a woman, and an immigrant.  Everything I do is judged.  And Adrien is…” she eyed Jason suspiciously.  “Doesn’t matter.  I think I need another drink.”

Jason quirked his head to the side, placated for the moment.  She didn’t sound evil, though they never did, did they?  She sounded like she just needed a break.  Maybe this place was the prefect place for her after all… except for the drugged thing, which he still needed to resolve.  “Okay, Pixie Pop, I'm gonna need you just stand up.”

Marinette looked around her slowly, trying to catalog all the details around them.  “Am I not?” she asked emptily.  After a beat, she shook her head.  “No, I'm not usually this tall when I sit down and I'm pretty tall right now so I must be standing.”  She grinned brightly at her brilliant use of logic.

“Okay, that’s it,” Jason grumbled.  “This has gone on too long.  You’re about to be a lot taller.”  He scooped her up and carried her to his office.

She squealed and clung tight to him, her head hidden tightly in the crook of his neck.  They were halfway to his office before her grip loosened and her body relaxed.  Her head popped up and bobbed around a bit as she observed the room.  “Oh, this is much taller,” she agreed.  She turned back to him, not noticing how close their faces were as she did.

Jason, however, had to focus on keeping his breath steady and not turning his head just the fraction of an inch it would take for his lips to brush against hers.  She rested her head in the crook of his neck and let out a contented sigh as she snuggled in.  “So nice,” she hummed.

Jason just barely kept himself from tripping on the stairs to his office.  She felt so natural in his arms, like she was meant to be there, like she fit perfectly… or he needed to sleep.  That was more likely.  Far more likely than that he was already falling for a woman who he’d only interacted with while she was intoxicated.  What if she was always drunk?  What if she was a junkie?  He discretely checked her arms as he placed her on the couch.  No track marks, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any.  She could just be really good at hiding it.

She looked around slowly.  He could have sworn nothing was registering until she looked back at him with a smile.  “See, no blood stains!  I was right!”  Her smile quickly turned into a frown.  “Not very homey though.  Do you feel relaxed here?”

Jason very consciously forced himself not to look at the rug, which definitely was not hiding several separate blood stains from several different occasions.  “This is my office, not my home.  But yes, I do get to relax here.”

She eyed him skeptically then looked around again, her head lolling to the back of the couch as she did.  “You said you were taking me home,” she pouted.

“After I tested you to see what you were given,” he corrected, quickly making his way to a box on his shelf.  He held up a little rectangle and a strip of paper.  “This is going to prick your finger,” he shook the rectangle, “so this,” he shook the paper, “can collect your blood.  Then that,” he motioned toward a machine next to the box, “will tell me what you’ve been given.  State of the art.  The best my ex-father’s money can buy.”

Marinette frowned.  “That sounds painful.”  Her eyes suddenly lit up and she straightened up but moved a bit too far forward.  She swayed backward to counteract her momentum but overcorrected and slammed back into the couch.  She sat back up slowly with a glare at the couch as she moved until she was sitting up straight without swaying and threw Jason a hopeful smile.  “Oh!  I should get another drink before you do it!  To help with the pain.”

Jason snorted but knelt down in front of her to meet her eyes with a comforting look.  “Absolutely not.  It’ll be okay.  It's just a little prick.  You'll barely feel it at all,” he promised.

Marinette snorted inelegantly falling over on the couch as giggles racked her body.  “That's… that’s not usually… what men say to me,” she gasped out between laughs.  “They certainly never used it as a selling point, but you should get points for honesty.”

Jason huffed and rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the bemused tug on his lips.  “I'll keep that in mind.  But in this case the needle,” he emphasized the words heavily and shook it in front of her, “won't hurt at all.”  He waited for her to settle down and sit up straight again before he cleaned her finger and pricked it, quickly collecting the blood in the sample strip.

Marinette watched his actions intently.  It wasn’t until he had already put the strip into the machine that she yowled and stuffed her finger in her mouth.  “You lied!” she accused with a deep scowl that for the life of him, reminded him of an angry kitten.

He cocked his head and his lips quirked to the side as he considered his options given the behavior he’d noted over the last half hour or so.  He plopped onto the couch next to her.  “Lied about what?” he asked innocently.  It was a gamble, but he felt it was a safe one.

She scrunched her brow even further then rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling as if trying to search her mind.  “I don't remember,” she pouted, “but I know you did.”

Jason's grin widened. “You know I did what?” he asked slyly.  He couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his face, perhaps the first real one of the night.  Hell, probably the first real one of the month.

She opened her mouth to respond but snapped it close correctly. Her scowl eased into a soft smile.  “You have a really nice smile.  Did you know that?  You should smile more.  I love seeing your smile.  Well, this smile.”  She looked away, her head slightly wobbling about as a frown tugged her lips down.  “I’ve seen the smile you give some people.  Those aren’t nice smiles.  They’re like the ones Adrien would give to executives he didn’t like.”

She looked back up at him, her pout softening again as she looked into his eyes.  “But this one is pretty.  It makes you look childlike and carefree.  It makes me think you like to laugh and love.”  She raised her hand to gently rest it on his cheek but accidentally slapped him instead.  “It’s a good look on you.”

Jason got lost in her eyes, the sting from the slap quickly fading into a warmth that spread throughout his body.  He wanted to nuzzle into her hand.  He wanted to nuzzle into her hair and let her scent wash over him, which was stupid because he didn’t know her.  If his past had taught him anything, it taught him everyone has an angle and those that don’t will let you down.  There was nothing about this, about her, that would change that.

But the brightness in her eyes drew him in, beckoned him forward with promises of transparency and virtue.  Everything about the way she had been acting, with inhibitions too lowered to pretend, indicated to him she was the last option he’d considered; a legitimate, hardworking person not working an angle.  It was the most curious thing he’d seen in a while, maybe years.  It was enough that he wanted to know her better, really get to know her, maybe in a situation where he gets to touch her and hold her close, because everything he’d seen so far had blown him away, but in a good way this time.

He opened his mouth to return the compliment but was interrupted by a ding from the machine.  He let out a deep breath and gently removed her hand from his cheek, lightly returning it to her lap.  This was the moment of truth.  The moment he found out how angry he got to be with her acquaintance; how violent he got to be with him.  He scanned over the report quickly but returned to the top to read it again more slowly… and again.  That could not be right, but no matter how many times he reread the report, the results remained the same.

“Oh my God!” he exclaimed with a laugh as he dropped down next to her again.  “You're not drugged, you're just drunk... off of two drinks!”

Marinette scoffed and waved him off with an uncoordinated wave.  “Don't be ridiculous.  I'm French.”

“Well, Mademoiselle Frenchie, you are Le Drunk.”  He barked out another incredulous laugh.  That pretty well assured him that she was not in fact a drunk, and likely not a junkie either, though he desperately wanted to take a hair sample to just verify, he managed to stop himself.  If two drinks could have this effect on her, there was no chance she drank regularly.  Hell, even one glass of wine a week should make her at least a bit more immune.  “You, Pixie should not drink.”

She glowered and dropped her head hard against the back of the couch.  “I knoooow,” she groaned.  “Adrien tried to talk me out of it, but I wanted to have a nice night.  A carefree night.  I’m always so responsible.  I wanted a night where I let loose.”

Jason nodded in understanding.  That is what his club was supposed to offer people.  “Adrien was the man you were with?”

She screwed up her eyes as if focusing very hard for a solid minute before nodding awkwardly.  “Yes.  It was definitely Adrien and not Felix this time.  He's in London with Kagami and Evan.”  Her eyes suddenly lit up and her whole face brightened as she straightened up and bounced in her spot, missing Jason tucking his phone back in his pocket.  “Can I tell you a secret?”   She stopped, her face morphing into a serious expression.  “You don't know any of my friends, right?”

“Uh... right,” Jason agreed, fairly confident in his response.  He must have chosen correctly because Marinette grinned brightly in response.

“Great, then I can tell you.  But you still can’t tell anyone.”  She leaned closer to him, weaving a bit closer than he was sure she intended to.  “Adrien is looking for an engagement ring!  He asked me to help design it.  Isn't that amazing!  I'm so excited!”  She fell back against the back of the couch with a dreamy expression on her face, missing the way his body subconsciously followed her.  “Adrien so deserves to be happy.”

“And what about you?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“Me?”  She scrunched her nose in confusion again.  “I don't need to design an engagement ring for myself.”

“No, I meant...”

“What would I even do with it?  Propose to myself?”  She giggled hysterically and lifted up her hand as if to examine an engagement ring on her finger.  “Who are you engaged to?  Myself. Could you imagine?  It would be hilarious.  I should do it.  Do you have paper and a pen?”  She looked around on the couch, separating the cushions to look there, her body still shaking with laughter.

“So, there’s nobody else who wants to propose to you?” he clarified.

Her laughter died down immediately, her smile morphing into a deep pout.  “No, nobody who would want to marry me.  Not even anyone who wants to kiss me.  Everyone's getting kisses but me.”  She met his eyes for a moment and brightened up.  “Hey, do you want to kiss me?”

Jason started for a second before answering.  For a long moment, he considered agreeing to it.   He was definitely interested.  She was beautiful and funny and sweet, and she made him want to try.  She was the first person in a long time to do so.  The first one that sparked something in him, something he’d feared had been beaten out of him.  And she was drunk.

He sighed and shot her a wry smile.  “I haven't gotten your friends' approvals yet.  I don't think I'm allowed.  Plus, we aren't friends yet.  We have to be friends if we want to make the friends to lovers transition.”

She pouted again and slumped in her chair.  “I hate slow burns.”

He snickered and gently brushed her hair behind her ear.  “You don't have to be friends long before you make the change.  We decide how long the burn is, right?”

She considered and nodded determinedly.  “Right.”

He fought a snort and moved to meet her eyes, fixing her with an earnest look.  “How about you come back when you're sober and if you're still interested, we can go out on a friend date?”

“A friend date,” she repeated slowly.

“Yeah, we get like dinner or something and talk.  Become friends with no expectations.  Then in a few weeks, if you're still interested, we can start the lovers part.”

She quirked her head to the side, accidentally knocking it into the back of the couch and rubbing her head absently.  “Doesn’t that mean we have expectations?  And is it a date then or just hanging out?”

He bobbed his head to the side in agreement and opened his mouth to respond but a knock at the door stopped him before he could.  Marinette looked around and stared at the large fish tank concernedly for a moment before her eyes widened.  “You have a secret room!  That is so cool!” she gushed excitedly.  “Can I go in it?”  She was up and trying to make her way to the wall next to the fish tank faster than he thought she could move, which clearly he was right about because she started to fall forward.

Jason jumped up instantly, at first to intervene before she found the lever that opened the door to the secret room, marveling and a bit concerned over how she knew not only that there was a secret room behind the fish tank but also the exact right area to look for the lever.  But ultimately, it meant he was there to grab her before she fell, scooping her up into his embrace again.  “Come in,” he called once he’d set her firmly on the ground.

“M’lady!” Adrien called, instantly in front of her and pulling her into a tight hug.  He glared over her shoulder at Jason, who merely shrugged at the glare.  Honestly, a pretty good glare.  Not up there with Batman or Alfred, but a solid contender and definitely deserved.  Jason certainly hadn’t responded well when he’d thought Adrien had plans to take advantage of her.  He could only assume Adrien felt the same.  “Are you okay?  Did he do anything to you?”

Marinette quirked her head to the side.  “No?”  She looked over at Jason with a pout.  “He won’t even kiss me.”

Adrien blinked a few times before nodding.  “Well… that’s…”  He looked over at Jason with significantly less hostility.  “Thank you for that.”

Jason shrugged.  “Not my thing.  And not allowed in my club.  It’s why I had you removed.  Sorry about that.  I suspected you may have drugged her.  But in my defense, I’d never seen anyone that drunk off two drinks.”

Adrien snickered and nodded in agreement.  “It is quite something.  Very amusing… when you aren’t out in public.  She absolutely cannot handle champagne.  Sorry she disrupted your night.”

Jason waved him off.  “She really didn’t.  I very much enjoyed it actually.”

Adrien gave him a knowing look.  “Right.  Well, I’m going to get her home.  Thank you again for looking out for her.”  With a final nod, he started walking toward the door.

“Bye, Jason,” Marinette called to him.

Jason followed them out the door and watched them as they crossed the floor to the exit before responding, pretty confident he wouldn’t see her again.  “Bye, Pixie,” he whispered.

><><><><><><><><>< 

It took six days for Marinette to work up the nerve to return to the Iceberg Lounge.  The first day had been spent recovering from her hangover.  The next few had been spent attempting to get over her embarrassment.  And by then it was the last day of Adrien’s visit and she couldn’t give that up to go check on some guy.  Which was not a pathetic excuse, no matter what Adrien said.  The next few days had been spent working up the courage to return.

And now here she stood, at the Lounge doors trying to convince the bouncer to let her in to see Jason.  Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be successful or not, but regardless of her desires, the club manager appeared and immediately let her in with a smile that looked suspiciously grateful.

Marinette00 shook her hands to get rid of the nerves causing them to tremble as she made her way across the floor.  It was ridiculous.  She’d fought akumas.  She’d fought monsters and literal nightmares.  She could certainly speak with a man who, if she remembered correctly, which Tikki had assured her she did, had already assured her he was interested.  And it wasn’t like there was any pressure anyway.  It was just a friend date.  She loved meeting new friends.  New sexy, respectful, smart friends that made Marinette’s heart race and skin burn whenever he was near.

Jason was in the middle of giving instructions for the night, a considerably slower night than the weekend had been, slow enough that he might even be able to get out for a bit as Hood, when he noticed his staff looking over his shoulder with a mix of amusement and relief, which was a significant change from their behavior all week.  They had been on edge and he knew it was his fault.  He’d been snapping at everything, even the most innocent things since Marinette left.  When she didn’t return the next night, or the night after, Jason was reassured of the accuracy of his assessment and it hit him harder than he had expected.

So, when they suddenly looked excited, he had to stop mid word to see what was causing the reaction.  He was glad he was faced away from his staff so they couldn’t witness the way his jaw dropped at the sight of her.  Whereas before she had been the embodiment of Veronica Lake, oozing sensuality that almost seemed to conflict with the innocent look in her eyes, now she embraced it, appearing closer to the embodiment of Audrey Hepburn, exuding class and virtue with a demure sex appeal from which he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Hi,” she said shyly with a small wave.

“Hi,” Jason grinned back.  “Daphne, I’m going to have to go now.  You’re in charge for the night.”  He clapped her on the back and walked away without ever taking his eyes from Marinette.  “Let’s get out of here,” he paused, suddenly losing the confidence in his eyes.  “If you’re still interested.  If that’s what you want.”

She grinned brightly and nodded, taking a step closer to him.  “I am.  It is.  I’d like to get to know you better and see what happens.  I could use another friend in Gotham.”

Jason breathed out a sigh of relief.  “I’m very friendly.”  He ignored the incredulous looks from his staff he was sure were pointed at his back.  “How would you feel about a friendly plate of food… and no wine?  Come on, I’ll drive.”

She rolled her eyes but chuckled nonetheless.  “I can handle wine, just not champagne.”

He stared at her incredulously from the corner of his eye as they walked side by side toward the exit.  “How about we not test that tonight?  You know what we should do though?” he asked as she passed by him as he held the door open for her, his voice betraying his childlike excitement at the idea, a feeling he hadn’t felt in longer than he cared to examine.  He stopped at the driver’s side door and looked at her expectantly.

“What’s that?” she asked suspiciously, her mouth quirked up betraying her amusement.

“Tango lessons!” he grinned as he slid into the car.

She stared at the space he had just inhabited slack jawed for a few beats before she rolled her eyes and joined him in the car.  “Tango lessons,” she scoffed.

“Tango lessons,” he confirmed with a bright grin.

@maribat-calendar-events

[wintuvern]

Name: Nora Arden

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Lesbian

Pronouns: She/her

(you know the squirrels from the movies "Hoodwinked" and "Over the Hedge", that's Nora)

Description:

Shorter than average, with a toned and athletic build.

Blue eyes, with short, straight hair

Top 3 Skills:

Endurance

Finesse

Agility

+Tactics

Playing style: Junk Baller

Singles rank: No.4

Backhand style: One-handed

Dominant hand: Right

Double's Partner: Tobin

Hometown: Florida

Major: Computer Science

Extracurricular: None

R/O: Rayyan

Clothing style: Street-style

Favorite music: Rap and Hip-hop

Preferred drink: Tea

Extra Info:

➛ Loves spicy food

➛ Came first in the 5-mile run

➛ Won the match against Emerson & Jacks

➛ Won the ice breaker game & scavenger hunt

➛ Won the laser-tag game

➛ Got the Devil's Dozen

➛ Beat Rayyan & Jacks in the doubles match

➛ Beat Tobin & Deepal in their doubles match

Go read @collegetennisoriginstory 👀

➛ Is like a Jack Russel personified with how much energy she has

[hotcat37]

Personified Käärijä songs

just for fun I decided to give personality traits to some Käärijä bangers <3 I based these entirely off of lyrics and vibes :0 Completely okay if anyone gets different vibes from them this is just how I see them :3

Kovis: -very confrontational, prone to getting into fights -will protecc and attacc 💪💪 -he's not the 'Kovis' the song is referring to because he's genuinely sweet and doesn't start conflicts but he is easily provoked -dresses like a frat bro -probably peaked in highschool Morgan: -often disoriented in time and space -prone to nausea -intelligent but doesn't make very good decisions -has a constant sense of remorse even when he doesn't really remember anything the 'morning after' (after drinking, partying) -is close with Kovis! Käärijä Cha Cha Cha: -quite shy and stoic at first -once he breaks out of his shell he's absolutely insane -has seemingly unlimited amounts of energy, can keep dancing all day and night -very charming but also somewhat unsettling -has extreme claustrophobia (do NOT put him in a box!!!) It's Crazy It's Party: -wears mysteriously blood stained clothes -a bit hypersexual, can't stop cracking sex jokes -likes to hang out in forests at night -avoids contact with CCC Käärijä as much as possible -has the worst English out of all the Kä's Välikuolema: -sleep deprived and usually a bit drunk -only wears oversized hoodies and track pants -easily cracks under peer pressure -is the guy who calls taxis for his drunk friends, he himself tends to just pass out in someone's backyard -you can only wake him up by screaming HERÄÄ!!! at him Urheilujätkä: -very athletic despite his height -the least unsettling of the Kä's -he is the most sweaty of them though -kind of a himbo, he excels in physical activity but not much else -is always extremely happy to see Jesse Hiirtä Kiinii: -actually not that prone to anger but once he's pushed over the edge he's very destructive -has constant bad luck -the most normal of the Käärijä's, just wants to get through the day -needs caffeine to function in the morning -takes vitamins designed for children because he likes the flavor Yhtä Vailla: -has a raspy voice because of how much he tends to scream in frustration -do NOT give this man any money, except for maybe claw machines 'cause he's pretty good at those -Africa by Toto is his special song and he'll murmur the lyrics to it completely unprompted -optimistic to a delusional degree -bro just needs to get a job honestly Mic Mac: -the only Käärijä that looks like his yellow era (lanky with brown hair) -his pockets are full of stolen Pokémon cards -is very nervous and doesn't say much (he doesn't want to be charged for his petty Habbo Hotel crimes) -definitely twirls the phone chord around his finger when he's calling someone -either wears the yellow suit or just Mic Mac pants with no shirt Siitä Viis: -his mascara is in a constant state of smudged -prone to heavy mood swings, usually switching between furious and sad -has trust issues, it's hard to get him to open up -eats ice cream and watches anime to cope -don't set him off or he will rant angrily for hours

[roseshewrites]

Hazbin OC time!!! She's my favorite!!

Name: Barbara (Living nickname: Bunny)

Mental age: 20

Died: 1990

Enjoys:

- Early 2000s aesthetic (she got with the times and stayed there)

- Bright neon colors

- Lindy hop swing and ballet dance

- electro swing (music)

- 80s pop

- drawing and art

- raves

-Casual s3x

Physical appearance:

- Brown hair

- Green eyes

Sense of style:

- She's usually seen wearing high wasted leggings, crop tops, and/or an off the shoulder neon pink mesh top with ballet flats. Stripper heels when she's feeling frisky

Personality:

She tends to push herself into a bubbly demeanor to hide her true feelings, and has a tendency to make friends and go tons of places so she's never alone. Drowning out her inner demons so to speak with music, dancing, and fake friends.

Outwardly she's confident, sassy, and full of out of pocket one liners

Inwardly, she's the same, minus confidence, and with an undercurrent of very strong self loathing and anxiety/depression.

Sexuality:

- Pansexual panic personified

Mental illnesses:

- Major anxiety disorder

- Major depressive disorder

- Bipolar

- PTSD

(She's me in this respect lmao)

Relationships:

- Mind game/Cat and mouse non romantic fling with Alastor

- Best friends with Lux (Another OC of mine)

- In her healing journey, gets with a pop star and social activist named Sunny (future wife) (another OC)

Job:

- Works freelance style for Lux and Velvette and many others

- For Lux, character design for his animated films

- For Velvette, fashion design

- Assorted art pieces on the side

Vices:

- Coffee

- Energy drinks

- Her vape

- Her THC vape

- Assorted dr0gs when she's in a manic low

Her sin:

- Killed her abusive father

Cause of death:

- Un-alived herself

That's Barbara dear in a nutshell. Hope you enjoyed. 😆