alcohol is all gone

Through Their Eyes - One Shot

Happy Valentine’s Day to my lovely readers with a Happy Birthday one shot to him that is almost exactly two weeks late! Inspiration and time are funny that way – always against you, you know? ;) Enjoy, loves. xx

Anybody would have to be blind not to see it, and his mother thinks he is and you are, too.

 Her beautiful boy has always been a bit oblivious. He’s incredibly smart, she’s proud to say, and very astute, but sometimes – only sometimes – he can’t see past the end of his own nose.

 He’s in love with you. She’s suspected it for awhile, but tonight it’s painfully plain to see. Her son, her youngest, her baby, loves you.

It’s more than a passing fancy, because he would have stopped lighting up in the same way when you walked into any room if it was as simple as that. And it’s more than the love that comes with strong friendship, because if it stopped there he wouldn’t look at you the way those thousands of adoring fans look at him – like he just wants one chance, just the one, to show you how good he’d be for you and to you.

 None of his friends see it – they’re all too far gone into the alcohol and guffawing as they have go after go at him in the name of good fun, and he just laughs along with them with crinkle-eyed, dimply humor.

 You don’t see it either. You don’t see it when he looks up at you with adoration that shines, unbridled, thanks to the liquor in his veins.

 You don’t even see it when he leans his head against the gentle curve of your hip while you stand next to him, one eye drooping just a little more than the other as he listens to whatever story is being told before giving in and letting them fall shut as you rake your fingers through his thick curls and massage his scalp. He does love a good pet, but he doesn’t reward all the people who comply by turning his head inwards and giving a little kiss to the hip that’s been his pillow.

And her boy – her birthday boy – he doesn’t see it at all.

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Hands On Me | T.H Cop Au

This is different to any other drabble I’ve written.

Warnings: Alcohol, slight sexual content

Out of all the places Tom had gone undercover in, a strip club was not on the list. It was a lot busier than he’d first imagined, the music was much more sultry too.

The lights weren’t almost as blinding as he’d expected. Instead of flashing and changing colour rapidly they stuck to a deep red, giving the space more of a sensual vibe. This was a strip club after all, it was like Tom had been expecting a first grade disco.

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anonymous asked:

Romantic sex in bath with Jeonghan (He's treating you like princess) I'd love to read that <3

welp because of the romantic aspect this turned out long with a lot of fluff in the beginning… hope you like it ♥

» If you’re using the tumblr app and can’t see the scenario, which is under a “keep reading”, please try opening the post in your phone’s internet browser (or a computer)! 💕

» 4,444 words 

The closer a certain date had come, the more excited about it Jeonghan had become, and the more he wanted to do something about it.

It would be your very first anniversary as an official couple, and it had to be celebrated.

He had gone through countless options regarding what he should do, and after deciding that some were a bit too grande for a first anniversary, he had settled with a few simpler ones he knew you’d still appreciate.

Jeonghan felt his phone vibrate, and his lips curved into a smile when he saw the message from you.

‘I’m on my way now ♥’

After he had replied it, Jeonghan went to the mirror in his bedroom, where he still made sure he looked fine. He was wearing a white button-down tucked into a pair of black jeans that were on the tighter side, and his hair was neatly done, so he decided there was nothing to fix.

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Photographer!Andrew: Self Portraits

(part one) (part two)

  • As Neil and Andrew get to know one another more, Neil finds out a lot about Andrew’s life.
    • Andrew and Aaron were both in foster care as babies and their mom took Aaron back, as she was a recovering drug addict and could not afford to take care of both. 
    • Andrew drifted in and out of bad foster homes before going to juvie, though he won’t necessarily explain why. Neil suspects it was for breaking and entering, or something similar. 
    • after that time, Andrew was sent to live with his mother and brother, where he discovered that his mother was beating his brother and Aaron was addicted to drugs. 
      • Andrew confronts her and tells her he’s been through hell and that she’s the reason why. Tilda relapses, unable to cope with the guilt and overdoses a few days laters. 
    • A few years later, begins intensive therapy and is on medication because he got in a very violent fight with men who were attacking his cousin, Nicky Hemmick. 
    • Andrew got into photography as a way to cope, helped his cousin with various photoshoots and helped his brother work on his journalism career. He protects both of them with his life, though he never likes to show that he actually cares. 
  • Later, after Neil’s photoshoots and Andrew’s won several awards, they are sitting around really discussing Andrew’s life. This is when Neil learns all of the stuff about Andrew. He proposes another photoshoot idea. But this time: self portraits.
    • Andrew thinks this is a bad idea. He doesn’t like to show how he feels but Neil thinks it could be therapeutic and his therapist, Betsy Dobson, also believes it could help. 
  • Andrew admits that while he wants to be able to tell people about how he feels, his voice feels extremely muted. He thinks that people won’t believe him, or that it will seem like he is weak. So this where the concept for the series starts.

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astronomutual  asked:

i imagined teen noodle hosting a huge rager party at the band's hq to the song big fun from heathers while the guys aren't home and now my life feels complete

she takes a select few group of friends into her room like “wanna see some really cool shit” and opens her closet and shaun ryder’s massive disembodied head is just like “sup” and everyone shrieks

also the guys randomly come home in the middle of the party and open the door and everyone freezes and stares at them and it’s dead silent and muds goes very slowly “noodle……. is this……a party…….even though we told you not to throw one……….”

and then he goes “I’VE NEVER BEEN PROUDER OF YOU TURN IT THE FUCK UP” and russ is just giving her the Look that she knows means that she’s gonna get an earful later and stu wanders in behind them like “oh, i didn’t know we were having a party, i would have brought some crisps and dip if i knew”

anonymous asked:

ikkaku receiving a confession by a long time friend or someone he knows by association (like they hang w yumichika or renji or st), whatever works best but...i wanna marry him 😤

Aaaah, yes! Please enjoy!

“I don’t remember you being such a quitter!” Ikkaku yelled as his Zanpakuto clashed with Renji’s. “You’re telling me you’re tired already?”

“Yeah, right!” Renji quipped. Another strike of his blade. “’Just that seeing this fight go nowhere is starting to get boring.”

“I agree,” you and Yumichika said at the same time, watching on with bored expressions. You were sitting cross-legged under a tree, your head propped up on your hand as it rested on your knee. They both ignored you, and you and Yumichika exchanged exasperated looks.

They’d been at it for hours, and they never seemed to tire. The trash talking started while on the way to the training grounds, and hadn’t stopped since. It had all been quite entertaining in the beginning, but watching those two losers bicker while they both tired was getting to be tedious. The only upside to this was that Ikkaku looked damn fine, covered in tiny bleeding cuts, sweat, and dirt, that smirk on his face that showed he was having a grand time sparring with his friend. Still, though, you were getting antsy just sitting there.

“I wanna drink,” you called out, getting to your feet in one fluid motion and clapping the dirt off your hands. It was getting late, the sun just starting to set behind the mountains, and if you didn’t hurry, your usual place was bound to be filled up. Yumichika sighed in relief, moving to join you from where he leaned against the tree with his arms crossed. “You can both join us whenever you’ve finished flirting.”

“Hah?” came the chorused question from both the blood-covered idiots. Before Ikkaku could make his inevitable retort at the thought of flirting with the redheaded lieutenant, Renji sheathed his Zanpakuto.

“I’m in,” he said, picking his way over to you with a quick look over his shoulder at his bald sparring partner. “You in, or not?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Grumbling, Ikkaku, too, put away his sword, and rolled the stiffness out of his shoulders. “I got it, let’s go.”

Picking up a familiar pace, Ikkaku by your left side as he always was when you walked together, the four of you made your way to your regular bar. Immediately upon entry, you were greeted by the staff by name, and shown to your usual table, your drinks already waiting. Nights at the bar with this particular crowd happened at least twice a week like clockwork, and you couldn’t wait to be seated next to Ikkaku to enjoy the conversation, and the best sake in the Seireitei. 

You didn’t know when these feelings of yours started to develop, but there they were one day, and there was nothing you could do about it. You were suddenly very aware of his presence, and of everything little unconscious gesture he made. Th grin he made while he was listening to friends tell their stories, the sly little lick of his lips when he was finished taking a sip of sake, the cool way he lounged at the table, with one leg pulled up as he rested his arm on it, sake cup in hand. Dammit, the man wasn’t even trying and your heart gave a little flutter. All of this didn’t escape Yumichika’s insightful gaze, and he’d been increasingly difficult to ward off. You remembered distinctly the time he cornered you, blatantly accusing you of being infatuated with Ikkaku, all sharp, but encouraging smiles. It still gave you chills to think about how astute he could be.

As the night wore on, the conversations flowed seamlessly, easily transitioning from one topic to the next until you four had been there for several hours. Throughout the night, Yumichika had been edging farther into your space, causing you to scoot away from him…and closer to Ikkaku. Currently, you were practically pressed up against him, so close that you could feel the heat radiating off his toned, muscular body. If you didn’t know any better, you would have blamed the blush on your cheeks on the alcohol. No one else seemed to notice, however, and if they did, that’s certainly what they would have blamed it on.

“Well, aren’t you three cozy,” Renji laughed, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed. 

“W-What?” you stuttered out. “W-Well, that’s–”

“I was admiring how soft her hair was, and was asking about what kind of hair products she uses,” Yumichika said flawlessly. The twinkle in his eye made you squint, but he played ignorant. “How am I supposed to touch her hair without getting close to her?”

“Hair?” Ikkaku slurred, whipping around to face you. He was right in your face, mere inches from it, in fact, eyes scrutinizing you and your hair. Without warning, his hand was on top of your head, scrunching up your locks with a look of concentration. His slid his hand down the side of your head, trying to get a better feel, but it felt more like he was caressing you. “It is pretty damn soft.” 

“Er… Thank you…” You looked down at your lap for just a second, before turning away from him, downing your little bit of sake in the most casual way possible.

“Wait, let me feel!” Renji’s rough hand was suddenly petting your hair, and you couldn’t do anything but sit there, blinking in confusion. He muttered his thoughts on your hair, making the other two men laugh. If nothing else, you were grateful he had diffused that awkward feeling between you and Ikkaku…

The evening continued much the same for another hour before Renji and Yumichika called it quits. Renji had early morning lieutenant duties that Captain Kuchiki would skin him alive if he didn’t show up on time for, and Yumichika’s reasons were less important, but very like him. Apparently, staying out too late too often was bad for the skin, and he would be thoroughly irritated if he woke up the next morning with dark circles, or worse. The knowing wink he gave you when they departed outside the bar told you otherwise, though, and you were left with a drunk Ikkaku to walk around with.

“What a bunch of wimps,” he grumbled, crossing his arms indignantly. You laughed jovially. You were hardly sober, but you had a fairly good grasp on yourself. After the strange hair-petting scene, you’d downed a few more cups of booze, and were now happily buzzed and giggly. “The night’s still young! You’ll stay, right, ___? You always do.”

He was right, too. Whenever this same thing happened in the past, you were always the one to stick around and close out the bars with him. At first, it was just because he was fun to hang out with, and you were still in the mood to drink and have fun. As your feelings grew, however, it was more that you weren’t quite ready to separate, wanting to spend as much time as possible with him, combined with the other two reasons. 

“I love that about you,” he continued after a pause. “You’re fun as hell to be around, and you ain’t half bad in a fight. Not to mention you can hold your liquor, and you’re good at conversation.”

Ah, hell. If went on complimenting you that way, you were going to pass out. Already your heart was racing, and you couldn’t even pretend the pretty flush of your cheeks was because of the booze. Ikkaku showed no visible signs that he was anything but cool as a cucumber, evening going so far as to walk with his hands clasped behind his head while he whistled. He turned to you with a boyish grin.

“Most other chicks would be a pain to hang around, but you’re different. You’re special.”

You stopped in your tracks, gaping at his back as he continued walking. Had he really said that? Was he even aware of what those kind of words did to you? No of course he wasn’t, because while Ikkaku was many things, he was not a mind reader. Having noticed your absence, he turned around with a confused expression.

“Oi, ___, what the hell are you doing all the way back–”

“I like you!” you blurted out, unable to hold it back any longer.


Whatever Ikkaku was saying died on his lips, and he stared at you. He didn’t look unhappy, or uncomfortable, just completely taken aback and unsure of what to say. You felt like you were going to throw up, and immediately regretted your decision. But what the hell were you supposed to do when he was singing your praises like that!? It wasn’t fair that he could make you feel the way you did…

Finally, “Er, really? Since when?” he asked. He still looked for the world like he couldn’t quite comprehend what you said.

“Uh, well, a while…I suppose…” You kicked at the dirt with your toe, staring at his forehead because you couldn’t look him in the eye. “How the hell was I supposed to tell you, though…? I– You’re like–” You cut yourself off before you could stumble over your words any further, still toeing at the ground.

The silence that followed was deafening, and god, did you want to just disappear. It was so incredibly awkward, especially because he wasn’t saying anything. What were you going to do if he shrugged you off? Could you go back to the way it was before? How awkward was it going to be until it was normal between you again? Steeling yourself for disappointment, you looked up, and your eyebrows shot up into your hair.

Ikkaku was still staring at you, but the blush on his face was so severe that not only did it reach the tips of his ears, but damn near covered his whole head. You could see his jaw working, clenching and unclenching as he processed your words, but you were so absorbed by his red face.

“W-Why are you blushing?” you asked incredulously, feeling embarrassed by association.

“Shut it!” he squawked. “Who wouldn’t after a confession like that!?”

“Well, excuse me!” Now you were just annoyed. “If you don’t like it, you can just forget it ever happened!” Ikkaku made a face.

“No way! You said it, you can’t just take it back!”

“Well, then, what?” You placed your hands on your hips, all shyness and embarrassment gone. The alcohol was finally doing it’s job as liquid courage. This was usually how you two interacted, so it was a bit of a relief. “Are you gonna date me?”

“Damn straight!” Ikkaku confirmed, taking a few steps closer to tower over your much smaller frame.

“…Wait, what?” You weren’t sure you’d heard him correctly.

“I like you, too,” he said. He took you by the arm, and pulled you against his body roughly. “Confessions aren’t really my thing, so I wasn’t sure how to say it… I was probably just gonna kiss you one of these days.” He looked away from you awkwardly, but placed his hands on your waist as he gathered his thoughts.

“Well, why didn’t you?” you demanded, hitting his chest with your fist.

“Huh? Why didn’t I what?”

“Kiss me!”


“If you liked me, then you should have just said something!” You couldn’t stop your mouth now, not when all the pent up frustrations of your crush were being released all at the same time. “Or kissed me like you said you wanted to! Instead, I’ve been drowning in these feelings for forever now, wondering if I’d ruin our friendship if I said anything, and you–”

With a sigh, Ikkaku snaked one arm around your waist, using the other one to cradle the back of your head, and smothered you in a hot, toe-curling kiss. You squeaked in surprise, making him chuckle, and he eased his tongue into your parted lips. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you grabbed the front of his shihakusho tightly in your tiny little hands, hanging on for dear life. A little moan escaped into his mouth, and he growled in response, kissing you harder and messier in the middle of the road. His hands in your hair made you shiver, and it was everything you’d hoped kissing him would be, and then some.

When he finally pulled back, you were sure your face was on fire. If anything, the shit-eating grin on his face confirmed this as he placed his hands back on your hips, keeping you close.

“What’s that face for?” he inquired teasingly. 

“Shut up…” you muttered, looking off to the side. He laughed, then released you, but still kept one of your hands wrapped in his.

“Let’s go.”

“What? Where?”

“Didn’t I say earlier? The night’s still young! And now I’ve got my girl to spend it with.”

You rolled your eyes. “I was already coming with you, stupid.”

“Yeah, but now you’re my girl.”

Cheater. There was absolutely nothing you could say to that, so you followed him without complaint, hand in hand, pouting. You got a few stunned looks from some of the Squad Eleven members still out drinking, but you weren’t even worried about it. Ikkaku was all yours now.

One Mistake

Summary: One mistake can change everything.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~5,112

Warnings: Language, ANGST, depressing thoughts, so much crying

A/N: ****Wrote this in a dark head space. Wanted to get it out of there. This starts out happy. It does not end happy. I urge you not to read this if you are depressed.***

Did I need to promote Guinness? No. Was I paid to? Of course not. I just fucking love Guinness.

Disclaimer: No, they don’t murder anyone. Or any other horrible people-related crime.



Originally posted by totheendofthelinepal

In your time with the the Avengers, you’d become close to a particular set of people; mostly Wanda, Bucky, Tony, and Natasha.

“You going out tonight?” Wanda asked as she peeked her head in the door, beaming at you.

“Yeah, I think so. Sam, Bucky, Steve and Scott are all going out, and Scott invited me along,” you said, giddy at the thought of spending the entire evening with Bucky.

Wanda smiled knowingly at you. “Alright, have fun. Keep me and Nat updated,” she said, winking as she disappeared around the corner.

You laughed at that, knowing they’d be too busy on mission to pay attention to your messages. You had today and tomorrow off and the boys had until 0800 tomorrow, so they were going out to enjoy a night on the town. Scott had invited you, though you secretly wished it had been Bucky. He was so quiet, though, that you weren’t surprised the louder and more outgoing Scott had spoken up first.

If you had known how it would have ended you would have chosen to stay in that night. You would have browsed the internet lazily, watched Netflix, baked a cake, gone and seen a movie alone. Anything. You would do almost anything to take that one decision back.

“(Y/N)! You ready to go?” Steve asked courteously as you entered the garage. He was standing next to one of Tony’s nicer cars and you wondered briefly how he’d convinced him to let him borrow it; You considered yourself one of the few people Tony trusted enough with his more expensive toys. Steve, Scott, and Sam loitering nearby, looking up at you at the sound of your name.

“Yup! Let’s roll, boys!” you said, cheering along with Sam and Scott who looked absolutely excited for the night to come.

“We need to be back by-”

“Yeah, yeah, Steve. We know. Get in the car,” Sam said dismissively as he hopped into his own car. Scott hopped in the passenger side and you looked between the two cars. You knew which one you wanted to go in, but-

“You can ride with us,” Bucky said, holding the passenger side door open.

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Drunken Problems.

“Seb?!” you called out as you walked through the front door. You waited for a minute, listening for a reply, but you never got one. You leaned back against the door and ran your fingers through your hair, upset. You had walked into an empty house once again. You sighed, sat your bag down on the table and walked into the kitchen to get a drink. You opened the cabinet door and closed your eyes when you saw all your alcohol was gone. Sebastian must be in a bad mood. You closed them and grabbed a Coke out of the fridge, kicking your shoes off and letting them fly in whatever direction.

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You’re Okay

At first, the knocking felt like it was coming from your dream. That was a fair assumption, considering the fact it was nearly three in the morning. But when the pounding grew louder, you became more lucid, rubbing your eyes and sitting up, slowly adjusting to your surroundings. 

Slowly heading to the door of your studio flat, you check the peep hole and see just who you were expecting. Rolling your eyes, you open the door. 

“Rough night?” you ask as Harry stumbles in, bringing the scent of liquor with him. “Did you lose your apartment key again?” 

“No,” he groans, b-lining towards your bed. “Jus’ wanted to stay here.” 

“What if I had a guy over?” you lock the apartment back up, heading towards your intoxicated best friend. You cringe as he flops down, placing his boots on your white bedsheets. 

“Yeah right,” he slurs. “You wouldn’.” 

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s right. To those around you, it looked like you were going through a bit of a dry spell. However, it was really just there was nobody that fit the description of what you wanted in a man. Well, nobody except for one person. 

“Lay wit’ me,” the whiny man child in your bed interrupts your thoughts. The very thoughts that he is constantly swimming in. “C’mon, Y/N!” 

With a soft sigh and only minimal struggle, you remove his boots, followed by his silk blouse. No matter how many times Harry shows up at your door drunk, the embarrassment that comes with undressing him never eases up. You can’t deny the tingle you feel each time you strip him of his whiskey soaked clothing, but you know you could never act on it. He’s your best friend, and nothing is worth losing him. 

“Alright bugger,” he smiles at the nickname as you hand him a cup of water that you had been drinking from earlier. “Finish this.” 

He obliges, chugging from the blue cup before reaching his arms out like a child, pouting. You gladly crawl into his arms, smiling to yourself when he squeezes you tight. 

“’m not sleepy,” he whispers, words sloshing together. “I wan’ stay up wit’ you.” 

“Quit being annoying,” you pretend to be irritated. And maybe you were. Maybe it was irritating to you that he only showed you affection when he was piss-drunk at 3 in the morning. “It’s nearly four am.” 

“You’re nearly four am,” he spins you so you’re facing him, giving you a peck on the nose. “Cuddle wit’ me.” 

“I am, Harry.” 

“Not like tha’,” he practically mewls. “Mo’. I wan’ mo’.” 

“You’re bad at using your words when you’re drunk,” you laugh, shifting your body weight and running a hand through his sweaty hair. He closes his eyes at the contact, pushing his head towards you like a cat does. “And you’re needy.” 

“But you love me anyways,” he whispers. “Righ’, darling?” 

“You’re okay.” 

Harry frowns, looking you dead in the eye. For a moment, all of the alcohol induced glossiness is gone. He’s looking straight into your soul, nervously chewing his lip. And before you can ask why, his mouth is on yours, in a tender kiss that tastes like Jack Daniels and mint and maybe a little bit of marijuana. 

You allow him to kiss you for a moment before pulling away, running a thumb over his cheek. 

“Go to sleep,” you whisper, placing your fingers over his lips as he moves closer again. “We can talk tomorrow.” 

“Goodnigh’,” he surprisingly goes down without a fight, still holding you close. “I love you, Y/N. I really do.” 

“You’re okay, Harry,” is all you can manage to croak out without tears falling. 

Closet Confessions

Originally posted by bangtanroyalty

Summary: A game of Truth or Dare with the boys leads to you and your roommate/crush being locked in closet together.

Requested: Yes

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

2 years. That’s how long you’ve been internally suffering due to your roommate, Kim Taehyung. He wasn’t a bad person, that wasn’t it at all. The problem was that he was perfect. Adorable boxy smile, big brown eyes, sexy deep voice, and amazingly kind personality. Those were the things that made up Kim Taehyung, and the things that kept you awake most nights.

At first you had ignored it, telling yourself that it was just a silly crush that you had formed from living with an attractive male. However, as time went on, you got to know the quirky boy, and you quickly started to fall for him. You could never tell him how you felt, though, because you couldn’t ruin the friendship that you two had built during your time living together.

It was a usual Friday night. You were sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling, while Tae was sat on the floor in front of you texting.


“Yes Y/N?”

“I’m bored..”

He leaned his head back to look at you and grinned.

“I could always invite the boys over, tell them to bring some alcohol.”

“Hell no. The last time they were here and got drunk, I literally had to untangle Kookie from the curtains, and the mess the next morning was atrocious.”

He gave you a pout that made your heart skip a beat.

“I’ll keep them in line! I promise! C’mon Y/N. Let’s let loose and have a little fun. It’s Friday night!”

You sighed dramatically and threw an arm over your eyes.

“Fine. But, if anything gets broken, I’m going to murder ALL of you.”

The boys showed up a few minutes later with a crap ton of alcohol. A few shots and a couple of arguments later, you were all sat in a circle playing the infamous party game of Truth or Dare.

“Okay people. Game rules are as follows; you are NOT allowed to pick truth two times in a row, if you don’t complete the dare you have to take a shot, and if you don’t answer a truth, you have to take two shots AND do a dare.”

Your eyes widened as you listened to Namjoon explain the rules. Knowing the boys, you were in for an eventful and possibly extremely revealing night. Things started off innocent, until everyone had started to take shots just to make things more interesting. By the time it was your turn, Yoongi had to strip down to his boxers, Jimin had to kiss everyone in the circle, Namjoon had told the story of how he ended up naked in the middle of a park, and Hoseok had done a strip tease.

“Alright Y/N. I have a feeling that I know your answer, but truth or dare?”

You stared at Yoongi for a moment as you contemplated your answer.

“I’ll go with truth this time.”

“Alright. Do you have a crush on anyone in this room?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, your face heating up as all eyes were now on you, awaiting your answer.

You refused to look any of them in the eye and grabbed two shots, downing them quickly.

“Well look at that! Somebody has a crush.”

You glared at Jimin, trying to ignore the burning feeling of the alcohol running down your throat.

“According to the rules, you still have to do a dare since you didn’t answer.”


You had forgotten about that part of the rules. You sighed, running a hand over your face as you waited to hear what ridiculous thing they would have you do. You glanced at Yoongi, your heart beginning to race at the smirk he currently had on his face. You were in trouble.

“I dare you to play 7 Minutes in Heaven..with Tae.”

Your head snapped up so quickly, you were surprised that you didn’t pull a muscle.

“Rules are rules. Get in the closet you two. The clock doesn’t start until you both are in there.”

Tae walked over to where you were sitting and reached a hand out to help you up. He smiled sweetly as you gently took his hand and stood up, walking over to the coat closet on the other side of the room. Once you were both in, the other boys quickly closed and locked the door.

“Have fun in there you crazy kids! Your time starts now!”

You both stood there awkwardly, staring at the ground.

“I can’t believe that they did this..”

You shyly glanced up to look at Tae.

“I’m sorry that you got dragged into my dare. I’m sure this isn’t the most ideal thing that you could be doing right now..”

He stared wide eyed at you. He suddenly started laughing, making you feel slightly more embarrassed about the situation.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just..”

He took a deep breath, moving to stand close enough to you that your noses were barely touching.

“I have had the biggest crush on you since the day I moved in. The guys knew about it and they have been bugging me to make a move. I was just too afraid of you rejecting me and then having to move out because of how awkward everything would be and-“

You put a finger against his lips to get him to stop rambling.

“Kim Taehyung. I like you too. I don’t know how you never noticed it. Now please stop rambling and just kiss me.”

It was probably the alcohol running through your veins that made you so bold, but you honestly didn’t care. You placed your hands on the back of his neck and pulled him into a soft kiss. You felt him smile against your lips, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer to him.

He pressed his lips a little harder against yours, tightening his arms around your waist as he backed you up into the wall. Right as he bit down on your bottom lip, the door swung open. Both of you whipped your heads around, looking at the 6 boys standing in the doorway.

“I guess your plan worked Yoongi.”

He smirked to himself as he walked back to the living room.

“C’mon you two! We’re not done playing until all of the alcohol is gone!”

You went to walk out when you felt a hand wrap lightly around your wrist. You turned around, noticing Tae blushing and staring at the ground.

“Would you maybe want to go out with me sometime?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how cute and shy he was being. You gave him a quick peck.

“I’m free tomorrow.”

He gave you that irresistible boxy smile that you adored, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to guide you both back to the living room.

“It’s a date then.”

Like a Ship into the Storm 1/6

Decided to upload here in parts before putting it up as one big oneshot elsewhere.


He screams until his throat is hoarse, until his breath wisps out into nothingness before him, until it feels as if there is no more blood left within his lungs.

The charred corpse of that bastard rests as his feet, lumps of charcoal that’s resemblance to a human isn’t even a sure thing any more.

It doesn’t matter though.

Nothing matters anymore because once again Sabo has failed.

It’s always the not knowing.

He hadn’t known he had a brother, that he had two brothers until suddenly he did.

Until suddenly there was only one left, one he loved more than anything, one he clung to with all the strength of a dying man clinging to life.

Even that hadn’t been enough.

Keep reading

tricia-tucker  asked:

Creek for the ask thing please! :D

Thank you for sending a message!

  • Who was the one to propose: I…have a very specific answer to this, but I’m planning to answer it in fic form one day, so. Rain check? ;-)
  • Who stressed more over wedding planning: Their self-appointed wedding planner, Clyde. Craig and Tweek were fine with a courthouse wedding, and Clyde’s like ??? You are DECLARING YOUR LOVE TO THE WORLD, you can’t just go to a courthouse!! So, actually, this stresses Tweek out more than Craig, Tweek is stressed.
  • Who decorated the house: Their apartment is a joint effort, using “effort” in the absolute loosest sense of the word. Every surface is covered in Tweek’s mugs and knick knacks, and every wall is covered in Craig’s pictures. Stripe’s little corner of the apartment where his cage and everything is set up is the most put-together.
  • Who is more organized: To quote @edenfire​‘s delightful headcanon: “ tweek is a huge mess and craig is a neat freak. this is a struggle”
  • Who suggested kids first: Craig. He talks about it in the very distant future, but that’s still talking about it. Tweek is hyper-aware of the fact that it came up in conversation at all.
  • Who’s the cuddler: Craig, but he’d never admit it. Tweek knows and doesn’t say anything about it, but if Craig is having a bad day, Tweek casually snuggles up to him. This solves all problems.
  • Who’s the big spoon/little spoon: Craig is usually the big spoon by virtue of being hella tall, but not always. I actually imagine them facing each other more often than spooning.
  • What’s their favorite non-sexual activity: Everything they do together is a non-sexual activity, tbph. Craig likes taking pictures of Tweek, which Tweek gets super embarrassed about (but also it makes him very happy).
  • Who cooks:  Both. Tweek is a pro at cafe food like pastries and sandwiches, and Craig is a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy. Tweek makes a regular effort to get more fruits and veggies into the rotation, which is an ongoing process.
  • Who comes home drunk at 3am: I don’t see either of them as drinkers. Tweek hates the idea of not being in control of himself, and he doesn’t like nausea, so he avoids alcohol at all costs; Craig is a born designated driver. Though they’ve probably gone out to pick up friends at 3am before.
  • Who kills the spiders: Craig kills them, like, with his bare hands. Tweek runs around trying to scoop them into newspapers or magazines to ferry them out of the apartment before they meet this gruesome fate. More than once Tweek has been startled into flinging spiders out the window, though.
  • Who falls asleep first: Craig, and he usually sleeps like the dead, but if Tweek pokes him or makes even the smallest sound of distress, he’s awake.
  • A head canon: They’re not really physical, like. At all. I’ve written them as a couple in a bunch of different fic ‘verses, and, to be honest, it doesn’t feel right having them do anything beyond holding hands and The Forehead Touch. And maybe one smooch. I’m going to go back and revise the fics where I strayed from this path.
  • Do they have any “rituals”? Their whole lives are rituals, tbh. Craig is boring and likes his routines, and Tweek is also a lot happier when he knows what he’s doing, where he’s going, and what to expect. Rituals range from the planned, like having a chore chart, to the unspoken, like brushing their teeth at the same time and alternating who spits into the sink.
  • Who has the most patience? Craig. Tweek’s temper is surprisingly quick.
if this night is not is not forever, at least we are together

Otayuri Week Day 1: First Times/Confessions

Words: 2.8K 

Featuring: DJ Otabek, Artist Yuri, Photographer Phichit and a whole host of drunken antics. 

AO3 link

It starts with a doodle in the margin of his art history notes that, when he looks at it from the right angle, looks like Otabek. Then there’s the midnight scrawls in his journals when he pours his heart out onto the page in smudgy ink, and when he rereads them the next day, it’s clear in his mind that the rambles that fill page after page are only about one person. Slowly, bits of Otabek start creeping into his art, snippets of things he’s written in journals, half remembered conversations immortalised in paint, some of the writing covered in angry strokes of red acrylic or made barely legible by the ink running down the page. He’s under his skin, and Yuri doesn’t really know why, or how to make it stop, how to make it go away, or anything that could possibly make the situation any better.

And whilst that might well be the start, it’s not technically the beginning.

Keep reading

Happy Halloween! Old revival fic follows

We don’t have much of a focus on Halloween where I live but I will be looking forward to seeing all the photos of pumpkins and costumes over the next day or so on here. 

This is the first story I ever posted to my blog, in response to a weekly challenge. And I haven’t taken a breath since! Some of you have probably already read it, so feel free to scroll on by. Tagging @today-in-fic and @fictober

Trick and Treat?

He wound down the window and flicked the handful of shells into the street. The frigid air blasted her face and she clamped down the thought that ran through her head. Until he did it again.

          “Mulder, it’s minus three degrees outside and I’m not dressed for this.”

          He didn’t bother to look at her, and she kept her eyes front and centre, but she knew a smirk lifted his lips. “I noticed.”

          She wrapped her arms around her chest and turned to her window, only allowing her smile to flicker once she’d fixed on the dirty streetscape outside. “Why are we here, Mulder?”

          “I told you. It’s a stakeout. And I also told you that you didn’t have to come.”

          She chuffed. “After all these years, you think that I don’t know your secret language?”

          “What?” This time he did turn to face her. A passing car’s lights caught a glimmer in his eyes, casting off the years so that he momentarily looked like the Mulder of their early years. Eager eyes betraying his cool body language.

          “It took me a while, but I broke your code, Mulder.” She nodded at him, enjoying the flash of wariness that crossed his face. “You don’t have to come, meant I’m going to sulk for the next three assignments if you don’t come.”

          “Take that back, Scully! I never sulked. I am not a sulker.”

          She took a sunflower seed and cracked the shell, knowing he was watching her mouth. “You were too. You pouted, you were short with me, you deliberately left your expenses reports until you knew I would do them. That was also code, Mulder.”

          “For what?” He took a seed in his mouth.

          “I always liked to think it was code for Scully I am so in love with you that you leave me tongue-tied and I don’t know how to say I’m sorry.”

          He put his finger on the button to open the window. She smacked his arm.

          “Don’t you dare open that again. Spit it here.” She held out her palm. He obeyed, shaking his head.

          “I don’t sulk” He shrugged himself lower in the chair, lips pushed out.

          She chuckled. “Fine. But you still haven’t told me why we’re really here. We’re a bit long in the tooth for midnight stakeouts.”

          “Speak for yourself. I am in the prime of my life, Scully. Fifty is the new thirty.”

          “Mulder, you’re over fifty and that qualifies you for discount will-writing services and lifestyle living options.”

          He sat back upright, smirking fully now. “So cruel, Scully. I don’t think I’m ready for lifestyle living just yet.”

          She leant back against the headrest with a sigh.

          “Scully, have you ever played the game, Never Have I Ever?”

          “Mulder, cable tv is not good for you.”

          “It’s fun, you have to propose a scenario…”

          “I know how you play it, I’m just wondering where this is leading.” She wished she’d gone for the bigger coffee. It was going to be a long, scary night.

          “So, let’s play. You first. Never have I ever…”

          “I’m not going first, I didn’t even agree to play.” Now she sounded shrill. He’d love that.

          “Okay,” he said, with a little too much enthusiasm. He had this all worked out, she was sure. “Never have I ever dated two people at the same time.”

          She didn’t think she blushed but it was the momentary hesitation that forced the surprised shriek from his mouth. “Dana Katherine Scully! I am shocked.”

          She laughed. “No you’re not. You’re impressed. I was young.”

          He gave her that throaty chuckle that always caused her stomach to jiggle. “Right. Your turn.”

          She sighed. “Never have I ever used my FBI credentials to gain access to a function I had no right to attend.”

          His laugh rocked the car. “That is such a Scully scenario.”

          She pressed her lips together. “So, what’s your answer?”

          “Of course I have. And don’t tell me you haven’t either. Power corrupts. Profilers, spooky alien lovers. Even educated MDs.”

          “Mulder, what are we doing here? You didn’t call me out in the middle of the night to play games with me.” She instantly regretted her poor choice of words.

He moved closer to her. She could smell his cologne. “Not word games, no.”

She shuddered. “Then what?” Her voice was barely audible above the drilling rain that was falling against the windshield.

“Do you remember Rob and Laura Petrie?” His breath whispered over face.


“Our alter-egos in that gated community. Please tell me you haven’t forgotten that case, Scully.”

She took a deep breath. How could she forget? His smug expression, his arm constantly round her shoulders, his infuriating personal habits. It had been a little window into how life would be with the man. “I remember the damn stork in the yard.”


“And the pedantic interpretation of the rules.”


“Pedantry. Come on, Mulder, out with it.”

“What would you say if I told you we were sitting outside the American Association of Illusionists headquarters.” He tapped the glass at the ordinary brick building with an ordinary grey door and narrow grimy windows.

“I’d say that you’re imagining things, Mulder.”

“Very droll, Scully. But people have vanished here.”

“Oh come on, Mulder! This is not funny anymore.”

He held up his hands. “Scully. I swear to you it’s a genuine case. A couple of regular members have gone missing.  Vanished into thin air. It’s an X File.”

She shook her head. “It’s a missing persons case at best.” He opened his mouth to respond. She put her hand on his chest. “And I am not entering that premises wearing this outfit.”

“So what did you think was going to happen tonight, Scully? Why did you agree to get in a car with your spooky partner wearing that dress, stockings and a pair of Manolo Blahniks, that, by the way, look perfect on your feet?”

She held her silence, raging on the inside at how she’d been played.

“I’m genuinely interested, Scully.” His good cop voice, that sultry tone that usually got him everything he wanted.

“I thought you were being… I don’t know… nostalgic. I thought you might have remembered…it doesn’t matter. Take me home, Mulder.”

“No, finish. What was I supposed to remember, Scully?”

“Never mind. I’m cold. My toes are numb. I need coffee. Home. Please.”

The door to the building opened and a body tumbled out. Scully went to open the door, but Mulder grabbed her arm.

          “Wait. We’re on surveillance, remember.”

          The man rolled over, staggered upright and walked right to their car. He rapped on the window and Mulder held her eye for a second, willing her into silence, before he lowered the window a crack. “Can I help you, buddy?”

          “They’ve all gone!”

She got a whiff of the alcohol on his breath and chuffed out a hard cough.

          Mulder reached a hand over to her thigh, squeezing it gently. She bit back a moan. And was he wearing cufflinks? The one’s he’d worn when…

“Who has?”

“Everyone. Gone. Poof! Vanished.” He clapped dramatically and fell down.

Mulder got out of the car and she had no choice but to follow. She checked on the man, who had vomited spectacularly over the wheels of the car.

“Mulder,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “Where are you going?”

He turned round, flashing her an incredulous look. “Inside. Where do you think?”

“We need back up!”

“Not if there’s no-one inside.”

He raised his weapon in front of him, looked at her, mouthed to three and pushed the door. She flew through in front of him, heart hammering, gun still feeling unnatural in her hands. He was there, though. Right behind her, his presence enlarged by that ridiculous black trench coat he’d dug out from 1994. It flapped around him, filling the limited space in the dingy passageway. They checked each room. All empty. He holstered his weapon, and she relaxed. 

That was when she saw he wasn’t wearing a trench, but a black cape.       “Mulder!”

          “What?!” He held his palms open to her. “It’s an illusionists cape. I had to be dressed for the part.”

          “Why?” She rubbed at the throbbing pain in her temples. “This was a stakeout not a Halloween party. Oh…”

          He swept the sleeve over his face, so that all she could see was the top of his head. “I did remember.”

          “Yes,” she said to her feet, “you do seem to have remembered.” Her cheeks burned. “But why all the secrecy, the pretend case? The guy outside, who was that?” Her voice was nasally.

          “The guy was just wandering around outside. I gave him a hundred bucks. He must have spent it on booze.”

          “Mulder,” she chided. “You’re still a hopeless romantic.”

          “Is it hopeless?” He wrapped her in the cloak, the satin tickling her collar. “We are still married, Scully.”

          She pulled away. “I can’t believe you tricked me like this.”

          “I thought you could break my code, Scully. And it worked when I proposed. Trick or treat, remember?”

          “How could I forget? You pretended to be having a heart attack so that I would give you CPR…”

          “Fair’s fair, Scully. You owed me.”

          “That was a rotten trick, Mulder.” She couldn’t help but giggle at the memory. “And then you said I had to go with you to the hospital Halloween dress up party to get my treat. And you wore an outfit that was strikingly similar to this one,” she said, tugging at the cape. “And you asked me to dress up as a Bavarian beer wench. Your eyes nearly popped out of your head.”

          “Allow me to demonstrate again.” He pulled open her coat to reveal the little black she was wearing. Not quite Bavarian beer wench, but she indulged him by pushing her breasts up and forward for him. His eyes widened. “I threw out the costume, Mulder. I’m sorry.” She felt ridiculously close to tears.

          “Tell me you didn’t throw out the treat – the ring?”

          She sniffed. “Oh Mulder, never. I would never do that.”

He remembered. Of course he did. But he wanted her to know he remembered. She fell towards him, grateful for his warm embrace.

She had missed those hands on her back, that smug expression. “Why go to all this trouble, Mulder?”

“It’s no fun if it’s too easy. You should know that by now.”

She let out a soft laugh. “I’m not sure that I really do know you, sometimes.”

“I’m a dark wizard?”

She picked up the satin cape, and pulled him towards her. “Something like that.”

“I don’t want to do fake marriage anymore. I want to do the real thing again.”

“Like Rob and Laura Petrie?”

“Only if you don’t ever put that green stuff all over your face again.” He pulled her close again.

She snuffled out a tearful laugh against his white starched shirt. “You never did learn how to squeeze toothpaste out of a tube.”

“And we never did make the honeymoon video.”

“But we did spoon like little baby cats. Back in the day.” She grinned against him.

“I’m not sure that baby cats spoon quite like we did, and back in the day is now, Scully. Come home with me. I don’t think you need to be a code reader to understand what I’m saying.”

He held her face in his hands and bent towards her, giving her the whisper of a kiss that promised so much more than a trick or a treat.

  • Alex: I got you this.
  • Aaron: Oh, er, thanks.
  • Alex: Doesn't seem to be working. Alcohol's supposed to loosen you up, you've gone all tortoise in winter on me.
  • Aaron: I'm just watching everyone.
  • Alex: And I've been watching you.
  • Aaron: Right.
  • Alex: Your words last night were "I'm not ready to lose you."
  • Aaron: Well, you say things when you're upset, don't you?
  • Alex: You do, yeah. You tend to say the truth. So now I will. I'm not ready to share you.
  • Aaron: You don't have to.
  • Alex: It feels like I am already. It's christmas, isn't it, when everyone reflects, so... do some reflecting and then do what you want. Tell everyone thanks for me, will you?