hawaiian punched

bi asks
  1. instagram bi or snapchat bi?
  2. bracelet bi or necklace bi?
  3. lay on the roof bi or lay in the grass bi?
  4. texting bi or talk on the phone bi?
  5. peppermint bi or cinnamon bi?
  6. earth, air, fire, or water bi?
  7. breath mint bi or gum bi?
  8. smoking bi or drinking bi?
  9. lace bi or mesh bi?
  10. sneakers bi or heels bi?
  11. dress bi or skirt bi?
  12. hair tie bi or hair clip bi?
  13. baseball cap bi or sun hat bi?
  14. lemonade bi or hawaiian punch bi?
  15. pineapples on pizza bi or ‘wtf that’s disgusting’ bi?
  16. strawberry bi or cherry bi?
  17. starburst bi or skittles bi?
  18. ‘i wanna hold your hand’ bi or ‘lucy in the sky with diamonds’ bi?
  19. antique bi or futuristic bi?
  20. stripes bi or polka dot bi?
  21. dc bi or marvel bi?
  22. button up bi or tshirt bi?
  23. short sleeve bi or long sleeve bi?
  24. hoodie bi or jacket bi?
  25. vinyl bi or cd bi?
  26. apple bi or android bi?
  27. pink bi or blue bi?
  28. sun bi or moon bi?
  29. beatles bi or rolling stones bi?
  30. beer bi or wine bi?
  31. plant bi or ‘everything i touch dies’ bi?
  32. lava lamp bi or kaleidoscope bi?
  33. beach bi or park bi?
  34. bike bi or car bi?
  35. guitar hero bi or rock band bi?
everybody wants to love you!

anonymous requested: for the soulmate prompt thing at first i was like aww for number 18 but then i just imagined modern reddie and eddie has fucking all star by smashmouth stuck in his head who the fuck is singing all start oh it’s richie (also on ao3)

Everyone knew that if a song was stuck in your head, it was because your soulmate was singing it. Eddie had always thought it was cute until it began happening to him. Now the main reason he wanted to meet his soulmate was to strangle them for singing such annoying songs.

Eddie struggled to concentrate on the textbook in front of him. He groaned and closed the book, resting his face in his hands. Bill gave him a concerned look over his laptop.

“Something wrong, Eddie?” he asked.

The brunet looked at him in exasperation. “They’re singing again. Why do they always have to start singing whenever I’m doing something important!?”

Bill smiled sympathetically. “What is it this time?”

Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me / I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed / She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb / In the shape of an “L” on her forehead

“Fucking ‘All Star’ by Smash Mouth. I hate my life, Bill.”

His friend laughed. “You say that now but you’ll change your mind when you meet your soulmate.”

The hypochondriac rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Bill. You’re not the one with a soulmate that sings meme songs and weird indie shit. I wish my soulmate sang pretty songs like yours,” he grumbled.

Hey now, you’re an all-star, get your game on, go play / Hey now, you’re a rock star, get the show on, get paid / And all that glitters is gold / Only shooting stars break the mold

Eddie whined again and buried his face in his arms.

“I want to die.”

He shot Bill a glare when he laughed.

-

“Are we rehearsing tonight?” Bill asked the lead singer and founder of their band.

Richie groaned. “I don’t want to but we have to keep practicing that song we’re gonna cover for the show on Friday, which is two days from now. So yeah, we’re rehearsing.”

Bill snorted. “Alright, I’ll let Bev know then.”

He left to call their bassist and Richie leaned back in the lounge chair in the Student Union. He began to hum the tune of their new song. The trashmouth pulled out his notebook and scribbled down some notes and lyric ideas.

I come home in the morning light / My mother says when you gonna live your life right / Oh mother dear we’re not the fortunate ones / And girls they wanna have fun / Oh girls just want to have fun

Richie smiled wide as he stilled his hand. He really wanted to meet his soulmate. From what he could gather by their taste in music, they’d be fun to be around.

“What are you smiling about?”

He looked up. Bill sat down across from him, eyebrow raised knowingly. Richie’s cheeks reddened as he looked back to his notebook.

When the working / When the working day is done / Oh when the working day is done oh girl / Girls, they wanna have fun

“My soulmate’s singing.”

Bill nodded, a smirk forming. “Beverly’s on her way,” he told him. “She’s bringing dinner, also.”

“God bless her fucking soul.”

-

Eddie watched as Stan threw himself dramatically on the couch in his apartment. He groaned loudly before regaining his composure and sitting up.

“Everything okay, Stan?” Eddie asked, genuinely concerned for his friend.

The curly haired teen looked up at him. “Yes and no.”

The brunet raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yes, I’m fine as in there isn’t anything actually wrong with me. No, I’m not fine because my soulmate won’t stop singing love songs.”

Eddie gave him a jealous look. “I’d take that over getting ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ stuck in my head every hour.”

Stan snorted. “I really want to meet them but it’s unlikely. I just hope the chances are good enough that we go to the same university.”

“I get what you mean. I want to meet my soulmate and beat the crap out of them for getting all those shitty songs stuck in my head, but yeah, I also want to meet them for the obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Eddie, but your soulmate sounds like a fucking nightmare,” his friend said. “Anyway, ready to start this dumbass history project?”

Eddie groaned and went over to the TV and turned it on.

“By the way, my roommate might be back, like, halfway through this documentary,” he explained as he inserted the DVD.

“I’m warning you now but history is honestly the most boring subject so don’t get mad at me if I fall asleep, which is very likely. Just pay extra attention,” Stan told him, pulling his feet up on the couch.

Eddie rolled his eyes and sat with him on the couch, pressing the play button. He tried to focus but the dull voice of the narrator explaining the French Revolution was making it hard. That and the new song stuck in his head.

Your sister thinks that I’m a freak / She’s been ignoring my calls, we haven’t spoken in a week / I get so drunk that I can’t speak / Yeah, nothing’s working and the future’s looking bleak and I say

“Really? Now of all times?”

“Song stuck in your head?” Stan asked as he repositioned himself to lie down.

Eddie nodded miserably. “Yeah, and it sounds loud. You know what I mean.”

“No, not really.”

Three beers and I’m so messed up, get drunk and I can’t shut up / She says that I drink too much / I fucked up and she hates my guts / She says that I need to grow up

“It always happens when I really need to focus. I feel like they know,” Eddie explained.

“Well, block it out and pay attention. I can feel my soul dying as this documentary progresses.”

The hypochondriac laughed at his friend and drew his legs up on the couch so he was sitting crisscross.

I’ll drink ‘til I’m staring at the ceiling / I’ll be just fine I’m numb and losing feeling / I can’t tell lies anymore

“What are we even supposed to do for this assignment?” Stan asked, looking over at Eddie.

He shrugged. “I think we’re supposed to watch the documentary and then write some questions? Our professor said he’d pick the best ones and use them as essay questions for the next test.”

“Shit.”

I just don’t know what to do, I’m still fucked up over you / She says that I drink too much / Hawaiian red fruit punch / She says I need to grow up

“It shouldn’t be too bad considering the French Revolution is pretty straightforward,” said Eddie.

His friend groaned again, leaning his head back against the couch. “Kill me.”

True to his word, Stan fell asleep about ten minutes in. Eddie tried his best to pay attention, scribbling down possible ideas for questions, but four more songs came and went. The documentary had just ended when he heard the apartment door open. He looked up from the TV where he was removing the disc.

“Hey,” Eddie waved. “How was practice?”

Bill dropped his bookbag on the ground and headed into the kitchen.

“It was good,” he told Eddie as he poured himself a bowl of cereal before draping himself over the armchair. “We got a lot of stuff done and perfected the two covers we’re doing for Fridays show. Which you better still be going to.”

Eddie rolled his eyes when Bill gave him a pointed look. “I’m going.”

He grinned. “Good. Anyway, what the hell were you watching?”

“It was for a stupid assignment for my history class. Speaking of, Stanley, wake up! It’s over.”

He shoved Stan with his foot, jerking him awake.

“Okay, first off? Rude. Secondly, your couch is very uncomfortable, please tell me you don’t make guest sleep here.”

Eddie shrugged at him. “Do you wanna, like, stay and get take out or something?”

Stan stood up, stretching his arms over his head, causing his shirt to ride up a bit. “No, I should probably get back to my apartment and hope my roommate hasn’t burned it down,” he replied.

He seemed to just now notice Bill. “Oh, you must be Eddie’s roommate. I’m Stanley.”

Bill smiled at him and Eddie noticed Stan’s cheeks flush. “Bill.”

“Nice to meet you. Anyway, I should head out. I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.”

Eddie said his goodbyes as he walked out of the apartment. He noticed how his roommate’s eyes lingered on the doorway.

“Hey, just out of curiosity, is he single?” Bill asked, looking back at Eddie.

“Unbelievable,” he shook his head as he walked back to his room.

“What, Eddie? Are you going to answer my question or not?” his roommate shouted after him.

He ignored him in favor of his phone vibrating. He checked to see that it was a text from Stan.

[ from: bird boy ] Okay so uhh

[ from: bird boy ] Your roommate is hot as fuck

[ from: bird boy ] Like,, raw me please

[ to: bird boy ] never ever ever make me read those words ever again in my life

[ from: bird boy ] Pass the word on to him I’m begging you

[ to: bird boy ] im blocking you

-

“Is it okay if my roommate joins us for lunch? I promised I’d go with him last week but obviously forgot and then made plans with you. He just texted me asking where we’re meeting.”

Richie looked up and Bill and laughed. “Fine with me, Big Bill. You talk a lot about your roommate. I’m excited to meet him.”

Hold up, they don’t love you like I love you / Slow down, they don’t love you like I love you / Back up, they don’t love you like I love you / Step down, they don’t love you like I love you / Can’t you see there’s no other man above you? / What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you / Hold up, they don’t love you like I love you / Oh, down, they don’t love you like I love you

He cracked a smile. “I really want to meet my soulmate.”

Bill raised an eyebrow.

“Beyoncé.”

His friend snorted and rolled his eyes before returning to texting his roommate about his whereabouts.

How did it come down to this? / Scrolling through your call list / I don’t wanna lose my pride, but I’m a fuck me up a bitch / Know that I kept it sexy, and know I kept it fun / There’s something that I’m missing, maybe my head for one

“Okay, he’s on his way. I told him I’d order for him so let’s get going.”

Richie nodded and followed Bill into the restaurant. They ordered their food, with Bill ordering also for his roommate, before diving deep into conversation.

“Bill, I swear to god, if you ask about him again I’m going to kill you.”

A short brunet stopped abruptly behind Bill, unaware of Richie’s presence. He took this time to admire him. He was cute. Really cute. Richie grinned.

“Hiya,” he said with a grin, taking the newcomer’s eyes off his friend.

“This is my friend Richie. Richie, this is my roommate Eddie,” Bill explained. “He’ll be having lunch with us if that’s okay with you.”

Eddie gave Richie a quick once over and a small smile before sitting down next to Bill. Their food arrived shortly after and they began to eat.

“So, Eddie,” the trashmouth began. “Are you coming to our show on Friday?”

Eddie looked up, his look a bit skeptical. “Our show?” he repeated.

“I’m sure you’ve heard all about the band from Bill.”

“You’re in that band?”

Richie laughed. “Eds, I formed that band!”

He grimaced. “Don’t call me Eds.”

The dark-haired teen reached over and pinched his new friend’s cheek. “But its cute, like you!”

Eddie slapped his hand away, only looking mildly embarrassed. He glanced at Bill.

“Is he always like this?” he asked.

Bill looked at his friend and sighed. “Sadly.”

Richie placed his hand on his chest in mock offense. “You hurt me, Bill. This isn’t how you were treating me last night. Why do you always have to act so different when we’re in public?” he whined as he began to pretend to cry dramatically.

“Beep beep, Richie.”

Richie grinned wide and pushed his chair back. “I have to go. You’d better be at that show tomorrow, Eddie, or I will be very sad!”

He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed toward the exit.

“He didn’t pay,” he heard Eddie say to Bill.

“This isn’t the first time.”

Richie waved over his shoulder and blew Bill a kiss. He winked at Eddie, his grin widening when he saw him blush.

-

Friday finally rolled around and Eddie decided to invite Stan to Bill’s band’s show. He made sure to specifically mention that his roommate was in this said band because he knew Stanley would never go otherwise.

“Can you please stop talking about you and my roommate fucking,” Eddie pleaded, pressing his fingers to his temples. “And are you sure you still want to go? You weren’t looking too good earlier.”

“It’s the depression,” Stan replied, giving him a look. “But I’m okay now.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay. Let me know if you want to leave at any time and we will.”

Can I get your number? / Can I get you into bed? / When we wake up in the morning / Will you give me lots of head?

“Oh, that’s nice,” Eddie sighed as they got closer to their destination.

“Another song?”

Eddie nodded.

“Me too. Or at least parts of a song.”

Everybody wants to love you / Everybody wants to love you! / Everybody wants to love you

They approached the venue, easily identifiable by music and cheering. They paid the entry fee and walked inside. Eddie was immediately greeted by sweaty, dancing bodies and loud music. He saw Richie up on stage, strumming a guitar. He spotted Bill in the back on the drums, and two other individuals: a girl on bass and a dark-skinned guy on another guitar. He couldn’t help but stare at Richie, who caught his gaze. The dark-haired boy grinned and winked at him before continuing with the song.

Will you lend me your toothbrush? Will you make me breakfast in bed? Ask me to get married And then make me breakfast again!

Eddie watched as the rest of the band joined in for the chorus.

Everybody wants to love you.”

He froze. The Richie sang the next part alone.

Everybody wants to love you!

Eddie felt as if his skin was on fire. His hands started shaking and checked his pockets, cursing internally because of course he didn’t bring his inhaler.

“Eddie!” Stan snapped him out of his daze. Distantly he heard the band sing another line. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to throw up. Do you need me to take you to the bathroom?”

He could only nod. He didn’t think that he would react this way to meeting his soulmate. Stan grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd. He was dimly aware of the song ending and people cheering. He didn’t notice the look on Richie’s face when Stan pulled him into the bathroom. He turned the sink on and wet a paper towel, dabbing it on his face to cool himself down.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“The lead singer of that band? The one on the guitar?”

“Richie? Yeah, he’s my roommate and best friend. He’s also terrible. What about him?” Stan asked, genuinely concerned for his wellbeing.

Eddie stared at him. “He’s your roommate? You live with him?”

“Unfortunate, I know. Wait, how do you know him?”

“Bill introduced me.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Oh, god. You’re the guy he’s been gushing on about for the past twenty-four hours. It’s disgusting.”

“Says the guy who won’t shut up about my roommate,” Eddie accused.

“Yeah, whatever. Anyway, what does you almost having an asthma attack have to do with Richie?” Stanley questioned, crossing his arms.

“Well he’s, uh, he’s my soulmate,” Eddie confessed.

The curly haired boy’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit. How do you know? God, he’s going to be ecstatic when he finds out.”

Eddie reddened. “That song. It was stuck in my head on the walk over here. It sounded like it got so much louder when we came inside.”

Stan nodded. “Well, you have to tell him because he looked hurt when I had to drag you in here.”

“I literally only met him yesterday,” Eddie whined.

Stanley rolled his eyes. “Yet you like him! Man up and tell him that he’s your soulmate.” He gave Eddie a quick hug before exiting the bathroom.

Eddie took a deep breath. He moved to open the bathroom door but it was pushed open. Richie grabbed his hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

He short-circuited for a second. “I have to tell you something.”

Richie rubbed his thumb over the palm, making Eddie shiver. “Okay.”

Eddie looked away, cheeks red. “You’re my soulmate.”

“What?”

“On the walk here, I had that song you just played stuck in my head and I’d never heard it before,” Eddie admitted.

“What did you listen to before meeting Bill for lunch yesterday?” Richie asked him.

“Um, I listened to Beyoncé. Lemonade specifically, but I don’t know what this has to do with anything.”

Richie pushed him back against the bathroom wall and grabbed the sides of his face. He kissed him hard, hands moving from his cheeks to his waist. Eddie was thrown off guard but immediately regained his composure, kissing him back earnestly, his fingers curling in his shirt. Richie coaxed his mouth open, the wet sounds of mouths and tongues pressing together filled the small room.

“I can’t believe you just made out with me in a fucking bathroom. Do you know how germy and disgusting these places are?” Eddie panted as they broke apart.

“Relax, babe. It’s not like I’m fucking you in a stall,” he grinned and pressed his forehead to Eddie’s. “Unless you want me to.”

Eddie pushed him away. “Beep beep, Richie,” he used the phrase he heard Bill say yesterday to get him to shut up. “Absolutely disgusting.”

Richie laughed and kissed him again, this time gentler. He pulled back and placed a kiss on his temple, intertwining their fingers together.

“I gotta get back out there,” he said, pulling him toward the exit. “I’ll dedicate the next song to you, darlin’.”

Eddie smiled wide as his soulmate led him back out into the crowd. He’d strangle him for singing all those annoying songs another night. Tonight was all about them.

QUICK AND DIRTY BREAKDOWN OF ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES:

This post is multifunctional: in fanfic with college aged characters, many of y’all are in highschool and have never been drunk, so you inadvertently make some choices that make anyone who has ever been drunk laugh.

BUT ALSO: i had never been drunk until summer after senior year. I didn’t know what to expect, but I got to test my limits around people I trusted, and that’s not always the case. It’s a new school year, and I don’t want you freshies accidentally drinking way more than you should and getting in trouble, getting alcohol poisoning, or even just puking on your dorm floor, because that shit is nasty. SO STAY SAFE AND RESPONSIBLE, BUT USE THIS INFO TO HELP.

(disclaimer: i am a 5′5 under 150lbs 19 year old girl with low to med alcohol tolerance. If you/your character is, say, a 6′2, male 200lb frat guy who drinks vodka like water, scale up accordingly)

this got long so it’s under the cut:

SHOTS:

1-2 shots: feeling nothing

3 shots: maybe feeling something? maybe just a placebo

4 shots: I’m fi–oh wait, i just stood and the ground moved. ok, maybe i’m almost tipsy. Starting to feel loose.

5 shots: definitely in the tipsy zone. feeling good. stumbling but not falling. whatever Kind of Drunk you are, here is when it starts to appear

6+ shots: I have not definitively documented these, because I am good at knowing my limits. Some people are not. Basically just looser and looser, easier to laugh, more outgoing, etc. But from what I hear, tipsy is the feel-good zone, and then you want to feel even more good so you drink more and then you hit Too Drunk and it’s a downhill slide into FeelingLikeShitville

SHOT BREAKDOWN IN OTHER DRINKS:

jungle juice/tub juice: this varies based on recipe, but i would say it is USUALLY one shot per drink. Sometimes they amp it up to two, but guys. Alcohol tastes like shit. If you want it to taste okay, you’ll need way more parts kool-aid/hawaiian punch/orange juice than alcohol. So please, for the love of god, do not have your adult male college student take one sip of a “mysterious concoction” and start making poor choices immediately. He’ll need, like, 3 cups min before the bad choices start rolling in.

wine/beer: what you see as the usual serving size is typically equivalent to one shot, but it’s more liquid, so takes longer to drink and therefore longer to get drunk.

OTHER:

CHASERS: when you’re taking a shot of vodka, tequila, fireball, whatever, it can be hard going down. So you’ll have people using “chasers” like lemonade, sweet tea, sprite, etc. You’ll either drink it right after the shot or right before and then after the shot.

DIFF ALCOHOL TYPES: different types of alc affect you differently. For example, tequila and beer make me nauseous, so I avoid those. My friend says when she’s “wine drunk” it’s different from being regular drunk. Mixing alcohol types as well (like beer and liquor, etc) can make some people sick. Quick list of some types/brands of alc: tequila*, vodka*, wine*, beer*, champagne, cocktails(margharitas, mimosas, etc), whiskey* (usually, especially for college students, this means fireball, which tastes like those shitty cinnamon candies your grandma always had out and feels like an actual warmth in your chest). There are more but I’m a gross college student and * are most common for me

HANGOVERS: i have never had a hangover bc even while drunk im an overthinker, and after every drink i have a drink of water, and this has staved off every hangover. Also, it makes you pee a lot, and peeing at a house party is An Experience

EFFECT OF ALCOHOL:

there are “types” of drunk, and they often mix together including but not limited to: Chatty Drunk, (me. i cant shut the fuck up. every thought i have exits my mouth. this is less embarrassing and more tedious, since most of my thoughts are inane and boring) Sleepy Drunk (my best friend. It is important to know if your friend is sleeping or passed out: one is an effect of alcohol, one means they are literally dying and should be taken to a hospital) Annoying/Loud Drunk (this is obvious) and Horny Drunk (my other friend is notorious for pointing to a guy and being like “I am going to fuck him” and then I have to physically drag her away and call an uber, despite also being drunk)

Another friend will, without fail, Every Single Time put on “Break Your Heart” by Taio Cruz, and proceed to play her 2010 playlist. Drunk people have reliable quirks and do weird shit. idk man, but usually people will know exactly what kind of drunk their friends are, and prepare.

I’m sure I’m missing stuff and I don’t actually drink a whole lot so if anyone has anything to add, PLEASE DO. Also, if y’all want a part two I can talk about house parties or other college shit

if you’ve been bothered by this kind of stuff or made these mistakes in fic or if you just wish you’d had this knowledge PLEASE REBLOG: i never really saw accessible info like this because the only info about alc i ever saw was like “ONLY EVER DRINK TEENY SIPS ONCE YOU ARE 21 BC ALCOHOL IS BAD” and that’s just not helpful

Team Voltron themed drinks!

In light of season 3 releasing soon and planning a viewing party with some of my friends, I recently started thinking about making themed drinks after certain characters and what-not (seeing as I’m the designated bartender of my friend group lol). There’s obviously TONS of different drinks you can make to fit a character, but I took a bit of liberty to fantasize what drinks I’d love to make (had I the time and money); these aren’t arbitrary choices either. I primarily chose drinks that I thought reflected certain character aspects, so I’ve included a small analysis along with each drink choice.

note: for practical reasons (like if ppl actually wanted to make themed drinks) I’ve included both a simplified mixed drink alternative (which, let’s be real, that’s what I’m actually making) AND a non-alcoholic alternative (which are super basic im sorry but it’s the best i could do)

Let’s get mixing!


Shiro – “Boulevardier”

This is one of the few drinks I chose based more on personality than appearance. Most purple cocktails just didn’t quite ring true for Shiro’s full-bodied character, so I went with my gut feeling and started browsing some bourbon based drinks. After going through a few classic recipes, I settled on a Boulevardier. What it contains:

  • 1.5 oz Bourbon
  • ¾ oz Sweet vermouth
  • ¾ oz Campari
  • Orange or cherry as a garnish
  • Served over ice optional

Shiro, as a character, radiates a sense of maturity and warmth. He is kind and caring, but knows when to take charge of his team and push harder. The subtle sweet undertones in bourbon and the warmth of dark liquor, I feel, reflect these aspects of his character very well. Sweet vermouth, like bourbon, has those husky, herbal undertones; it’s basically a wine spiked with brandy and slightly sweetened. Campari is a liqueur made from infused herbs and fruit, a sweet and spicy flavor. This is, in essence, a darker drink, and one that is probably an acquired taste; aka, this is not a beginner or casual drink. It’s a drink I think is well suited to our beloved enigmatic leader, the Head of Voltron, pilot of the Black Lion. It has warmth and depth, a complexity of flavors that matches Shiro’s nuances in character.

Practical party alternative: any type of whiskey and coke (though I still recommend bourbon, it tastes better imo); you can also do a spiced rum and coke if you’re not a whiskey person.

Non-alcoholic alternative: honestly? cherry coke or like…diet coke with lime strike me as very Shiro for some reason lol.

Keep reading

wyattghouleff  asked:

write about the losers attending a school dance and everyone kinda branches off and does their own thing and bill jokingly asks stan to dance and they slow dance and on the way home they make out in his car lmao

This is 110% not what you asked for but I got So Terribly Carried Away

They’re 18. Also there’s some side reddie in this bc …yeah.

[1176 words]

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

"Uhm, t-those shorts look t-tight" Analogical please (Virgils Halloween costume maybe?)

Okay, so maybe in hindsight Virgil’s costume is little slutty.

He’s wearing a tight black tank top, short shorts that don’t leave much to imagination, fishnets, and ankle high boots with little heels. Oh, and a witch hat headband.

At least he looks good, aided by a killer smoky eye and dark red lipstick.

Heads turn when he walks into the party. People whisper, some about how he looks trashy, some about how much they want to pin him against a wall and fuck him until he screams.

He finds his friends fairly quickly. Roman’s dressed as Prince Charming, Patton is a cat, and Logan’s dressed as Einstein. They all have different reactions to his costume: Roman whistles, Patton tells him how cute he looks, and Logan blushes really hard.

“You good, Lo?”

“Um… t-those shorts look t-tight.”

Virgil raises an eyebrow and grabs Patton’s wrist to drag him along in a quest for punch.

“Logan thinks you look hot,” Pat says matter-of-fact-ly, pouring himself a cup of (Hawaiian Punch? Kool-aid? It’s hard to tell.) “Before you came over to us, he saw you walking in and his jaw dropped.”

“Should I mess with him?”

Pat gasps and lightly smacks Virgil’s shoulder. “That wouldn’t be very nice, Virge!”

“…”

“But yeah, milk this for all it’s worth.”

The Missed Birthday

Originally posted by cute-guysxx

Luke Alvez x Reader

Requested by @milkandcookies528 

Could you do one with luke where before he joined the BAU he had a kid (him and the mom are still together) but due to work he forgot his kid’s birthday which causes him and his gf or wife to get into a fight because she thinks he’ll forget about her and their kid because of his job. Please and Thank you.😁💕💜💙

Elena was finally asleep before Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. She grabbed the bottle of Hawaiian Punch from the fridge before pouring herself a generous glass of sugary and artificial goodness, her poison of choice for the evening. She sat down and turned on a rerun of How I Met Your Mother and eagerly slugged her juice. If Luke couldn’t be there for Elena, how on earth could she expect him to be there for their unborn child. Exasperated beyond belief she played with her rings, a nervous habit of hers, while thinking about the good times.

Luke was on his annual leave from the Rangers, which he took so both his and Y/N’s wedding anniversary and his beautiful baby girl Elena’s birthday would fall during that time. They had recently moved houses and their new house had a pool which came with Luke’s promotion in the Army. For Elena’s 2nd birthday, Luke and Y/N had decided to throw a pool party for her, inviting all the other families with kids living on base. Luke managed the grill with Elena in his arm while Y/N rushed around to fill the ice chests with beers and juice pouches before the guests arrived.

“Birfday papi” shrieked Elena, while tugging on her dad’s sunglasses.

“That’s right, mi princesa. Happy Birthday!” said Luke while nuzzling Elena’s cute little chubby cheeks.

“Why, Elena. We don’t want to bother daddy now do we” said Y/N in the baby voice which they had both grown accustomed to using before stealing away Elena from Luke’s arms. She took her baby girl, who was growing up way too fast, in her arms and pressed loving kisses all over her tiny little face. Elena shrieked in delight while laughing at her silly mami.

“Hey, what about me? Don’t I deserve any kisses?” asked Luke smiling at his amazingly supportive wife.

“For what? Making lunch?” asked Y/N grinning at the newly formed pout on her devilishly charming husband’s face, before conceding and pressing a chaste kiss on Luke’s lips while Elena screamed, “EWWW”.

Y/N sighed in frustration. She was tired of the daily stress and anxiousness she went through, over Luke. When he was in the Army she would go days without sleep worrying about if he would come back home in one piece. When he had been honorably discharged she thought she was done living with the constant fear that she might, one day, have to raise Elena on her own. She loved Luke with everything she had and she knew that this was what made him happy. Fighting for what he believed in and saving people’s lives was what made him happy. And who was she to say anything about it. But this was the last straw. Missing Elena’s 8th birthday and not even calling or texting to let her know was too much for Y/N to handle.

Just then Y/N heard the front door open. Luke, visibly exhausted, rushed into the townhouse the family owned. He hurriedly took off his gun and badge and placed them in the safe, before going into the family room happening upon Y/N. He knew how upset and exhausted his wife must have been and sighed before sitting down next to Y/N on their sofa.

“Y/N, I’m sorry mi amor” said Luke.

“Don’t say sorry to me. Say sorry to your daughter who went to sleep upset because her papi wasn’t there to sing Happy Birthday to her like he usually was” replied Y/N.

Luke, visibly disheartened said, “I know, it’s my fault. I should have been there”.

“Yes, you should have been. That little girl looks up to you and she went to bed almost crying” exclaimed Y/N.

“I promise mi amor, I’ll be there for every single birthday, dance recital, and soccer tournament. Heck I’ll be at every clown practice if that’s what she wants” declared Luke, smiling as he saw a small grin making its way onto Y/N’s face. He brushed his lips against Y/N’s cheek before continuing on to say, “You know what I mean Y/N. I just don’t want to let you or Elena down. I want to be a good father”.

“Luke. You are an amazing father. Elena loves you so much. You could never let either of us down. It’s just a little disappointing when you aren’t there for big events like birthdays” said Y/N sincerely, in hopes of making her husband not doubt himself.

“I promise I’ll do better. I love that little girl so much. And the thought of breaking her heart kills me. I’ll make every single birthday from now on” said Luke.

“Soon you’ll have one more birthday to make it to” beamed out Y/N, deciding that now was a good a time as any to reveal the big news. Y/N watched as her husband’s exhausted face erupted into a smile exuding happiness.

“You’re serious, right? You aren’t messing with me?” asked Luke.

“Nope, I’m pregnant! I went to the doctors last week. They took blood and I got the call yesterday” exclaimed Y/N with sheer joy.

Luke picked up Y/N and give her a massive hug. He gently placed her down on the couch before putting his hand on Y/N’s non-existent bump. The rest of the night was wasted away with Luke coddling his beautiful and supportive wife. Y/N fell asleep listening to Luke whisper to the baby about how he would always be there. And Luke fell asleep knowing that soon he would have one more person, or two in their case although they didn’t know it yet, to love with everything he had.

@reiding-and-writing

A/N This was my first Luke Alvez fic so please leave me some comments or just anything letting me know how it was. My next one shot will be a Spencer Reid x Male Reader. I hope ya’ll enjoy this!

Day Sixty-Seven

-Turning around, I found myself face to face with an unnaturally large cat with a two foot-wide head. After a moment of reevaluation, I found myself face to face with a hyper-realistic cat purse. This did not ease my fight or flight response.

-A father and his son came through my lane in matching Batman outfits. While undeniably adorable, I do wonder if the child realizes he already has more than Bruce Wayne ever did.

-In regards to his purchase of a bland gift bag and white tissue paper, a man asked me, “Is this cute enough? For a girl?” Before I could get out a polite but definitively dissenting answer, he told me that it was good enough, and that he was now done shopping. I cannot imagine the woman who is lucky enough to deserve this level of thoughtfulness.

-I met either a young boy decked out head to toe in elf garb or an elf stopping by after a long shift at the workshop. The date is December 17th and, whichever it may be, they made my day much brighter.

-I was unfortunately forced to ring up a legitimate Nazi, complete with tattoos, long white dreadlocks, and Confederate flag badges. I almost considered saying something, but then I noticed the gun on his hip and decided that I was too hungry to die without another good meal.

-A woman purchased two boxes of Dark Magic. I was disappointed to find out that was merely the name of a coffee blend, and the store had not decided to start delivering what the people really want.

-I was asked to pull up a woman’s credit card and charge it using just her name. It was not even a Target card, so I am unsure as to how she expected me to accomplish this, but I know that as soon as we achieve this ability, several people will find themselves donors to the Get Tom A Pet Sloth Foundation.

-A pair of white men in black leather trench coats loitered around my register for far too long without so much as looking at an item. They each wore a fedora with the brim pulled down, showing only the scraggly remnants of a beard in the act of escaping to their necks from their faces. Never before in my life have I been so sure that I was going to get shot.

-I had the delight of seeing a young girl skipping around the store in a fuzzy Chewbacca onesie, the picture of  comfort and style. This is truly where fashion meets function and I hope to see more of this movement in the future.

-A man in his thirties purchased a bottle of Hawaiian Punch and a copy of The Notebook at ten o'clock. He is in for a night I truly envy.

-Approaching the bathroom to blow my nose, I heard a series of beeps coming from inside. As I stepped through the door, I found that it was a man dialing his phone from inside the stall. He was then on the phone with who I believe was a doctor. I do not know the details of what happened in this stall or why it warranted calling his doctor so late at night, but I am grateful that it was not me this time.