In which there are parties, awkwardness and orgasms.

TT: Sometimes I've gotta go round her up from some godforsaken cranny of the abyss. Drag her tipsy ass home, tuck her back in. A few instances of Dirk taking care of Roxy while she's half-awake on Derse.

They don't have a lot, but at least they have this, whatever it is.

SOLLUX: tz, n0. SOLLUX: we are not even having this c0nversation. TEREZI: WHY NOT? >:[ SOLLUX: because it’s fucking ridicul0us, is why not. SOLLUX: i d0n’t like the guy. SOLLUX: he’s an asshole.

She's silhouetted in the bright morning light; a shining angel that sets off your headache almost immediately and proclaims Hark ye, maiden of the grain and grapes, today will be a Day Moste Shittey.

“We should have sober sex,” Patrick says, rolling his neck until it pops loudly. He really should be thinking about getting up off of the floor. “Why would we do that?” Jonny asks, twisting to look down at Patrick like he just suggested that they throw puppies into traffic.

For Wally's 21st birthday, they play spin the bottle.

Tim's got a lot of revenge to plan for this.

Obi-Wan is exhausted, drunk, and just about out of fucks to give.

Settling his grip just above the muted curve of Bitty's hips, Jack squeezes. "Better." Bitty coughs out a laugh. "Glad you're satisfied." "Almost satisfied," Jack says. "I still have my shirt and socks on." "Good," Bitty says, and he leans to press them together, forehead to forehead, chest to chest with only cotton worn thin between them. "I like you like this. It's cute."

Left to his own devices, Jack wouldn’t ever choose texting as a form of communication.

Iron Bull is almost certainly playing games with him. Dorian is particularly sure of this when he's been drinking.

Drunk manicures and sober sex are better than the other way around. Especially if you're just looking to blow off some steam.... You know what they say: If you can't be with the one you love, love the mind-blowing sex you're having with the one you're with.

15 texts that were never sent in Westeros.

Sometimes Bitty sleeps in Jack's bed. It's not a thing, until it is.

There are reasons he doesn't usually come down for the parties: people, mostly, and alcohol. But there's a reason he has, this time, and that reason made four dozen cookies earlier and is currently pressed up against his side.

It figures that the one person to catch his notice in Boston would be Jack Zimmermann’s fucking boyfriend. “So, uh,” Kent stutters, all of his charm wiped away by this bullshit turn of events. “You probably think I’m the world’s biggest asshole, don’t you.” Bitty takes a sip of his beer and shrugs. “You’re up there.”

Some people get mean when they drink. Some people get quiet, or loud, or weepy. Sid gets… well.

Once Edward became legal, the number of office outings to the pub went up exponentially. Possibly this was because Edward was really fun to take to a pub.

"Tonight, Zach carried me home."

Zach is sick so Eugene makes sure he has everything he needs at home, including food. And that's when he realizes.

Pete is a divorced Elvis impersonator at a Las Vegas wedding chapel, who’s stopped believing in happy endings. Patrick hasn’t, but then again, he’s there to marry Bob.

“Fuck, you too?” is the first thing Zabuza says to him after a solid five years apart.

“Some ground rules, please,” Magnus began. “Simon, I know you're friends with Isabelle, but please stick to defending her character within your own head. Raphael—” he glanced at him— “don't be deliberately provocative. Understood?” Raphael nodded once in acknowledgement while Simon bobbed his head up and down. “Well then,” Magnus said, extending his arms in a grand gesture, glass in one hand, “let us vent.”

Clary has never been any good at putting things back together. When they were in middle school and she accidentally knocked over Simon’s Lego Millennium Falcon, he’d already known to say it was fine repeatedly and usher her out the door instead of accepting her offer to help him rebuild it; if he’d let her try, the wings would have ended up upside down and there suddenly wouldn't have been space for the engine. Her heart is in the right place, usually, but it doesn't often translate to her hands. So when he hears through the shadow world gossip mill that Alec's parabatai rune disappeared briefly, it doesn't take more than one look at Jace’s face to know that she’s been fucking around with the threads of fate again. And, well. She's never been that great at sewing, either.

Brian’s laughing as they drag each other up the stairs of Pat’s apartment, their hips bumping with every step. “Am I making you the worst neighbor in the world?” Brian whispers loudly, while Pat tries his best to get his key in the lock. Brian’s leaning against the wall, wiping at his eyes. “We can make it worse,” Pat says, and he can feel himself grinning. “We can make it so much worse.”

Lurking behind covered windows after curfew, all three of them are well on their way to passably drunk when Nie Huaisang lays his current volume down on the table, scattering peanut shells, and sighs. “I wonder what it would be like,” he muses, and Jiang Cheng obligingly makes an inquisitive sound and looks over. The book is open to a woodcut image of a man with a woman bent over his lap, her mouth around him, both of them looking as if they’re enjoying themselves immensely.

There are times Jack thinks he's a very lucky man.

Xichen's cheeks are flushed a pale pink and it suddenly occurs to Mingjue that Xichen isn't doing that fancy Lan technique of using his core to evaporate the alcohol before it can affect him. Which means Xichen wants to get drunk. Which means only bad things for Mingjue, generally. Good, but very bad things.

Li Bowen can have a little intimacy. As a treat. (Or: the one where the Yi City actors have a threesome in a hotel room.)

Either way, there was someone or something to blame for the fact that Jack ended up sending Connor Fucking McDavid a dick pic. Perhaps it was the universe as a whole.

“I didn’t even have my dick out, what’re you freaking about,” Tom says, which is probably not the best way to ease his roommate into his sexual proclivities.

“Tater thinks I’m pretty,” Eric blurts out, and Jack chokes as he’s taking a sip of his drink. “Maybe wrong word,” Alexei tries, reaching out to squeeze Eric’s shoulder, “You handsome, but face is soft. Is nice face. Uh, you okay, Zimmboni?” “Yeah,” Jack coughs. His eyes are watering. “You’re right. Bitty is pretty.” “Is rhyme!” Alexei yells, excitedly, and offers his champagne bottle to Jack. “Drink for rhyme.”

The costume version of the Red Robin uniform that Cass provided Jason with has been altered to fit his proportions. The fabric is form-fitting but not uncomfortable, and the bandoliers snap across his chest without issue… except for the sordid way they frame his pecs. Between the chest action, the absence of a cup, and the feathered cape, he really feels like he's about to turn tricks. But, well… he can't complain. At least he has it better than Tim.

"That's a nasty cough you've got there, Dabi," Toga says pointedly. Disgusting as it is, he forces himself to swallow the petals back down. They catch in his throat and he almost starts coughing again before he finally manages it. "Allergies," says Dabi, voice scratchy. Dabi falls in love.

If Rumi Usagiyama had one fatal flaw, it was that she couldn't keep a secret to save her life. She was too used to speaking her mind. If Tsunagu Hakamata had one fatal flaw, it was that he could come off as condescending. He meant well, really, but sometimes other people got the wrong idea. If Hawks had one fatal flaw, he'd be fucking thrilled because one was a massive decrease from the ten to fifteen flaws he got weekly reminders about from the Hero Commission. In which Rumi gets drunk and reveal something she wasn't supposed to know, Tsunagu has been trying to help, and Hawks has been through too much for a 22 year old whose been groomed for the past 14 years.

Kaminari is going through a messy divorce, which has led to sending transcripts of his texts with his ex to his attorney. Shinsou is the attorney’s legal assistant, who has to go through said transcripts and black out all the explicit pictures before they can appear as exhibits in court. Reading through the sexts though, and they are GRAPHIC, Hitoshi starts to agree with the ex: he ALSO wants to ‘come on Denki’s tits’ and ‘shove his cock so far down Denki’s throat he’s coming directly into his stomach’.

Aizawa Shouta is a part-time college student and, more recently, an EMT in training. He doesn't have the funds to call Tokyo home and never did, but how he ends up renting a room from nationally acclaimed author Yagi Toshinori is anybody's guess. Yagi is kind, and rich, travels a lot for conferences and has a very fat cat named Dumpling. Shouta loves Dumpling. He also loves leaving the door open when he's dressing, because he knows Yagi-san is looking.

Three inches in front of Sanji's face, Zoro is wearing an expression that could wither stone. "What the fuck," the swordsman snarls, "do you think you’re doing." The remaining logical dregs of Sanji's brain recognize that he's just gotten himself into a pretty dicey situation. The rest of it apparently doesn't fucking care, though, because the absurd line of response he comes up with is to grin right in Zoro's supremely pissed-off face and say- "Well, what was your dumb ass doing?" In which the crew’s plastered, Zoro needs to blow off some steam, and Sanji gets taught a lesson or two.

Shane fucks Sam in the JojaMart bathroom as yet another desperate attempt to escape the tedium of his pathetic life. Sam fucks Shane in the JojaMart bathroom to let off some of the pressure of holding everyone else together and keeping up his happy-go-lucky front. So what do you do when your least-shitty coping mechanism isn’t enough to distract from your problems anymore?

“I can fake anything,” Neil says with a smirk. “Including passports, but those don’t come cheap.” “What about orgasms,” Andrew asks. (or, Andrew’s roommates are having noisy sex. Enter Neil Josten, actor extraordinaire and willing to help Andrew get petty revenge.)

"Never have I ever wanted to kiss Neil."

“Wait, it’s my turn,” Allison said, pushing herself further upright. She swayed dangerously, then narrowed her eyes and pointed at Neil. “We’re still targeting him, right.” “Jesus,” Aaron muttered. “Could you guys seriously—” Nicky clapped a hand over Aaron’s mouth. “Yes,” he said. “Definitely. Make the boy drink.” Aaron shoved him off and sulked at the edge of the fire, nursing his drink. “Alright,” Allison said. “I've got it. Never have I ever—told Andrew I love him.”

“Geralt, it’s not what it looks like.” “Really?” he asked. He clenched his jaw before offering a sharp, mirthless smile. “Because it looks like you got caught fucking the mayor’s wife, and now I’m not getting paid!” “Well,” he laughed nervously, looking anywhere but up. “When you put it that way.” In which Jaskier suggests a chastity device to prove himself a worthy travel companion, and of course, gives Geralt the key.