bar bag

Get Used To It l Shawn Mendes Imagine

a/n: i’m not the biggest fan of the whole friends turned into lovers thing but this came out?? I didn’t give the boyfriend a name or whatever so feel free to picture whoever you want lol, and I know TNHMB is the opening song, I just modified it for the imagine. Anywaysss, hope you enjoy it <3

prompt: Shawn & (y/n) were best friends, until they discover they work out as something more than just that.

Originally posted by fearless-man

“She’s cute.” you said placing your head on your best friend’s shoulder.

You had been the entire day keeping Shawn and the team company as they were shooting the video for Shawn’s latest single. Shawn had invited you to tag along the European leg of the tour and that was an offer you couldn’t decline. You even had the time to spend time with Aaliyah, who was like your little sister, in Barcelona before his show. It had taken time to get your parents’ approval to travel across the ocean to join your best friend, but after some begging from your part and a couple of phone calls from Shawn, they had come around and let you go.

“You think so?” Shawn answered as he checked his phone.

“Yeah, you two would make a cute couple.” you teased him, earning a glare from him.

“You really need to stop trying to find me a girlfriend.” he rolled his eyes.

“I do it because I love you! It’s sad that you always have to come back to me instead of a girl you can kiss or use to satisfy your needs.” you wiggled your eyebrows and this time Shawn groaned in annoyance.

“Remind me why we’re friends again? You are the most annoying human being in the world.”

“Oh, shush. You love me.” you circled your arms around his neck.

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the bike shorts incident

Zimbits | Fluff & Crack | 3.2k | AO3

Bitty gets a series of texts from Jack just minutes before their shared class is due to start. Bitty is alarmed for several reasons—Jack’s preference for sending single texts, and the fact that Jack is normally in class before Bitty at the top of the list.

Jack 9:56 Are there seats in the back row?

Jack 9:57 Can you move to the back row and save me one

Jack 9:57 Near the door on the east side

Jack 9:57 Please

Jack 9:58 ??

Bitty isn’t sure what’s going on, but he gathers his stuff quickly, dumping it into his bag, and heads to the back row near the specified door, trying to type as he goes.

Bitty 9:59 I’ve moved. Got a seat for you. Everything okay?

Jack 9:59 Is anyone near you?

Bitty looks around.

Bitty 10:00 A few people further down the row, and about five rows in front. Teacher just walked in and is setting up.

Bitty looks around to the door, holding his phone in case it buzzes again with a message from Jack.

The teacher calls the class to attention and there’s still no sign of Jack. It’s not like him to miss class. Bitty wants to go out and find him to see what’s going on, but he can’t now that the teacher has seen him. He gets out his books and pen again, and focuses to the front, keeping his phone visible on the desk just in case.

He keeps an ear out for the door, and just as Professor Miao begins her lecture, he hears it opening. It’s almost like Jack was waiting until he knew she’d started.

Jack sticks his head through the gap and looks around nervously. He meets eyes with Bitty, who raises eyebrows at him, trying to get some clue as to what Jack’s been texting him for. As Jack pushes the door open slowly, and hurries quietly in, practically tiptoeing over to the seat Bitty has saved for him, Bitty thinks he knows what Jack’s been worried about.

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20

It’s his first birthday with Dex, but it’s also his first Valentine’s Day with Dex, and he’s not really sure what the protocol is when you’ve been in love with someone for a year but only actually dating them for a month or two.

He stares at the little gift he’d made up – a new coffee mug, some Kit-Kats, a jumbo bag of Skittles, and a bouquet of flowers. Is it too much? Is it not enough? Is it cheesy? Is it weird?

In the end, he doesn’t have time to overthink it too much, because Dex is knocking on the door and Nursey has to go let him in. Dex has two bags in his hand, one red and one blue.

“Red is for Valentine’s Day, blue is for your birthday,” he explains.

Nursey opens the Valentine’s Day gift first – a new coffee mug, some Twix bars, a jumbo bag of M&Ms, and a bouquet of flowers. Nursey’s kissing Dex before he can even get to the blue bag.

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9

Where They Wander: Anne Carolien Kohler
Destination: New Zealand

“I was quite an adventurer already and my parents called me a mountain goat. I would climb on the highest rocks, terrifying my dad time after time. Sorry dad.”

Do you ever find yourself scrolling through one of those travel Instagram accounts with envy wishing that were you? If so, chances are you’ve stumbled upon Anne Carolien Kohler before. This photographer with a background in lifestyle & design is originally from the Netherlands, but she’s currently living on the Gold Coast of Australia. Her passion for travel and never ending wanderlust reflects in every photo she shoots, and she’ll never say no to an opportunity to travel, explore, and capture new adventures. Today, we’re chatting with Anne about her dreamy trip to New Zealand with her friend Melissa (ummm, can we join next time?!).

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oriannagod-deactivated20150613  asked:

hey molly i'm having a slow day and i was wondering if you were in the mood to tell another story because literally i have not laughed as hard at anybody else's anecdotes on this entire goddamn site and it would be pretty rad

when i lived in spain, i worked as a “bartender” in madrid. i put “bartender” in quotation marks because my boss fernando trusted me with literally nothing but cleaning glasses and occasionally a CLOSELY SUPERVISED mojito. the bar was called “la chocita sueca,” which basically means “the swedish hut,” but can also, as far as i can tell, mean something VERY DIFFERENT and vERY RUDE.

  • this led to a lot of general confusion from the patrons, who were always wondering whether i (the only super, super white person) was The Swede. 
  • “THIS BAR IS NOT NAMED AFTER ME,” i would shout, trying to be heard above the music and the huge portrait of elvis that hung behind the bar. “I AM LITERALLY JUST HERE TO WASH DISHES AND MAKE TERRIBLE MOJITOS.”
  • “OK BUT ARE YOU SWEDISH?” they would ask me. “LIKE ARE YOU SWEDISH, THOUGH?”
  • “nO.”
  • “ARE YOU SURE?”
  • “VERY SURE.”
  • “YOU LOOK SWEDISH.”
  • “I UNDERSTAND, BUT I AM NOT SWEDISH.”
  • “NOT EVEN A LITTLE SWEDISH?”
  • “NOT EVEN A LITTLE SWEDISH. AS I HAVE SAID.”
  • “BUT YOUR EYES ARE VERY BLUE?”
  • “I AM NOT FUCKING SWEDISH!!!!!!!!" 
  • at which point fernando would sweep in and say soothingly, “shhh, it’s okay. why don’t you go wipe down the vomit on the bar??”
  • rinse. rather. repeat.

anyway, on weeknights when the bar wasn’t busy, fernando always let me come in and talk to him and learn how to make drinks. as someone who hates hard liquor, i was very bad at it. my entire repertoire is a mimosa and a tequila sunrise. in my defense, fernando was aware of this going in. the entire hiring process went:

ME: can i work here?
FERNANDO: do you know how to make alcoholic beverages in exchange for money?
ME: no.
FERNANDO: come on wednesday.

so one day, my roommate bryan takes me out for a delicious fancy dinner, along with his little brother and his little brothers three friends, who were all visiting and sleeping on our floor. on the walk home i noticed that we were going to pass by la chocita (which was about a 5 minute walk from my house). so i separated from bryan and the boys to drop in and say hello to my old friend fernando. 

it’s a tuesday at 9:30p.m. so the bar was naturally empty, and fernando was just chillin’ with the elvis picture and the human-sized statue of liberty replica. 

"maya!!” he said. he called me maya, as did most of my friends in madrid, because it was easier and because i hate the way “molly” sounds when it is breaking up a spanish sentence. “molly” in any language that isn’t english literally sounds like a fart on a first date.

  • “molly” when said in an english sentence: what a cute, rosy-cheeked young lady, probably looking to cuddle a dog and have a good laugh!!
  • “molly” when said in literally any other language: WHAT IS THIS GROSS PIECE OF WOOD IN MY MOUTH?? IT TASTES OF TODDLERS AND THE ASHES OF YOUTHFUL DREAMS.

so in i pop, and there is fernando, who immediately sets to telling me all about his son and how handsome he is and how he’s about my age and fernando’s not saying anything but he’s JUST SAYING—

“here, have some of this,” fernando said, and handed me a glass of kalimotxo.

  • WHAT IS KALIMOTXO, you ask? PRETTY EASY:
  • 1. get some cheap-ass wine, like hella cheap, like the CHEAPEST WINE YOU CAN FIND, PROBABLY IN A BOX, PROBABLY CALLED “CHEAP CHEAP CHEAP WINE FOR POOR COLLEGE STUDENTS.”
  • 2. get some diet coke.
  • 3. get some ice
  • 4. combine.
  • 5. “WHAT IS HAPPENING????” - your body, horrified and delighted.

“idk, fernando,” i said. “it’s a tuesday? i have class tomorrow?”

“WHO EVER GOT DRUNK ON A LITTLE KALIMOXTO,” fernando said.

i took the drink.

  • “WHAT IS HAPPENING????” - my body, horrified and delighted.

“try this, too,” fernando told me after a moment, pushing a bright green glass in my direction. “it’s new. i’m trying it out.”

“idk, fernando,” i said. “it’s a tuesday? i have class tomorrow?”

“WHO EVER GOT DRUNK ON A LITTLE BRIGHT GREEN BOOZE?” fernando said.

i took the drink.

  • “THIS IS DANCING A SAMBA IN MY MOUTH!!” - my actual words to my actual boss.

“wait wait, try this one,” fernando added, now pushing a tiny shot glass toward me with gold-colored liquid and sugar at the bottom.

“idk, fernando,” i said. “it’s a tuesday? my lips are tingly?”

“WHO EVER GOT TINGLY LIPS FROM A LITTLE GOLD-COLORED LIQUID WITH SUGAR AT THE BOTTOM?” fernando said.

i took the drink.

  • “it tastes like i already regret it!!!” - me, giving the statue of liberty replica a kiss.

“I FUCKING LOVE YOUR BAR NUTS,” i said. “THEY’RE THE BEST BAR NUTS I HAVE EVER HAD. CAN I HAVE A POUND OF THEM?”

“okay,” fernando said, and handed me a bag of bar nuts as big as my torso. it was very heavy. it was a tuesday at about 11p.m. and i opened the bag, dipped my hand in, and shoved a whole handful into my mouth.

  • IN MY DEFENSE: these were the best bar nuts in the world.
  • i stand by that.

“you should go home,” fernando told me, looking suddenly doubtful. “you have class on wednesday.”

“WHO EVER HEARD OF CLASS ON A WEDNESDAY?” i said. “GIVE ME SOME MORE OF THE TINGLY LIPS STUFF.” it was probably hard to hear me around the bar nuts.

fernando, now very alarmed, called me a taxi. i should remind you that my apartment was a five minute walk from the bar, but with my hands full of a full 3-lb bag of bar nuts that i refused to give back and a my fist closed tightly around the neck of a bottle of tinto de verano, there was really no way i was going to make it that far.

“where to?” the taxista asked. i gave him my address. he blinked at me. “that’s… right there,” he said, and pointed.

“yes,” i agreed, taking another mouthful of bar nuts.

“we can see it,” the taxista said.

“yes,” i agreed again. “would you like some bar nuts?”

“….no,” the taxista said, and pulled forward toward my apartment, glancing nervously back at the chipmonked motherfucker doublefisting bar nuts and dessert wine in the back of his cab on a tuesday.

“DID YOU KNOW,” i said, “I AM NOT AT ALL SWEDISH?”

“okay,” the taxista said. “we’re here.”

i don’t remember what happened after that, but in the morning i woke up to the following three surprises:

  1. the tinto de verano was nowhere to be found. nowhere. did i give it to the taxista???? did i leave it on the stairs???? HAD THERE EVER BEEN A BOTTLE AT ALL???? WHO PUT SEVEN LEMONS IN MY FRIDGE?
  2. i was wearing socks on my hands.
  3. i woke up to bryan’s brother and his three friends asking loudly, “why the hell are there nuts everywhere?”

“NO REASON,” i said.

hi friends! to commemorate the official expansion of currentryanrossmood to the new and improved currentpatdmood (!!!) and because i’m stuck in upstate new york for college where winter still reigns and spring seems like a distant dream of warmth and sunshine and flowers, its giveaway time! there will be 15 winners so chances of winning something is high!

RULES:

❊ must be following my main band blog elegantdimes

❊ enter before may 1st! winners will be chosen with a random selection generator during the following week

❊ only reblogs count! one reblog is one entry (you can enter as many times as you want)

❊ follow my personal/aesthetic blog esemplasticism for another entry

❊ follow my photography instagram and twitter for another entry each and a followback on insta! (message me your username when you do)

❊ must have an open ask box! winners must respond within 48 hours of winning. i will ship anywhere!

PRIZES:

❊ 1st: Pretty. Odd. vinyl (2017 release)

❊ 2nd: 2 winners! The Young Veins album art shirt from my Redbubble

❊ 3rd: 3 winners! Each will receive a pair of Pretty. Odd. friendship bracelets (Reinvent Love and Hey Moon)

❊ 4th: 4 winners! Each will receive a bag/bar/box of their favorite candy and nice handwritten note just for you :)

❊ 5th: 5 winners! Each will receive a mini playlist customized however you desire!


thank you and good luck! feel free to message me at elegantdimes if you have any questions :)

The Poolside (Peter Parker)

Summary: “It’s called thinking. Go with it.” - “Damn, you’re strong for a little thing.”
Warnings: None.
A/N: I’m wandering the English streets of London at the moment so I’ve queued up some goodies to read for you while I’m wasting my time. First prompt of the week! As always, leave feedback and hope you enjoy this xx


“So, tell me again why I’m letting you do this?” Peter asked in a hushed tone, eyes shifting back and forth between the door and you, where you were currently crouching on the carpeted floor. He watched as you raided the minibar, knowing that those candybars were more than expensive and that you’d both be in trouble if someone found out.

Or he would be in trouble, because it was his room that he was sharing with Ned, and everyone knew that his bestfriend was not in the mood to get in trouble when they were here for the sole purpose to compete. But it seemed like Peter couldn’t say no to you no matter what, so you took advantage of that.

“Just keep your eyes on the door, you little scaredy-cat.” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you shoved in a few more Reese’s bars into your bag.

“Scaredy-?” He huffed out in disbelief, cutting himself off before gathering his thoughts again. “I thought we were going swimming. I want to go swimming, Y/N.”

You closed the minibar, pushing yourself up on your feet to stand straight. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the door was flung open and you peered over Peter’s shoulder as the boy turned around to look at the intruder. Ned was scrolling through his phone with one hand while he held what looked like a bag of chips and a bottle of Sprite in his arms, making you bite back a smile.

He looked up at you and shot the both of you a smile in greeting, but it soon disappeared as he took in your devious smile and Peter’s face, as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His eyes narrowed into slits and he kicked the door shut before strutting to his bed to drop his belongings on the mattress.

“Why do you look weird?” He questioned the boy who was standing in front of you, and you pinched his side when he didn’t answer. “What are you two doing?”

He looked around the room in confusion and suspicion, and in a moment of panic you blurted out the only thing that came to your mind.

“I… was just showing Peter my new bathing suit.” You said, almost high-fiving yourself for the way you lied perfectly. When Ned’s eyebrows rose, you pulled up your shirt to show the edge of your suit that you were wearing underneath. “See?”

Ned giggled childishly and Peter turned to you, shooting you a look as if to say what the hell are you doing?

“It’s called thinking, go with it.” You murmured out when Ned plopped himself down on the bed. “Anyway, we’ll be going now. Don’t wait up, Neddy.”

And with that, you grabbed Peter’s arm in a tight grip and dragged him to the door, flinging it open so you could make your escape. You ignored Ned’s protest of you’re not allowed out of the room past curfew and shut it behind you, wincing when it slammed louder than you expected. You looked around the hallways, praying silently that no one would peek their head out and see what the commotion was all about.

“Wha - ?” You placed your hand over Peter’s mouth, shutting him up as you glanced around. When you deemed it safe to talk, you looked up at Peter to find him staring at you with wide eyes.

The skin on the corner of his eyes crinkled and just when you were about to ask why he looked so smug, you felt something wet touch the palm of your hand that you’d pressed on to his mouth. You gasped and pulled your hand back, glaring at the boy in front of you. Without thinking, you brought your hand up to punch him and he let out a small laugh, pouting as he rubbed the small space where you’d hit him.

“Damn, you’re strong for a little thing.” He said and jumped back to avoid your swinging hand again, making you scowl at him.

“Let’s just go.” And with that, you turned around and started walking, not looking back to see if he was following you. But judging by the hurried pitter-patters of feet, you knew he was.

You eventually made it to the pool, a fairly large but secluded area on the first floor. The door was surprisingly enough open, and you suspected it had something to do with Peter but you didn’t question it as you walked right inside, disposing your bag and towel on a tanning chair. Without thinking too much about it, you rid yourself of your clothes until you were just standing in your bathing suit, feeling oddly exposed. With a sigh, you turned around and halted your movement when you found Peter looking at you with something odd in his eyes. Your eyes narrowed.

“Stop staring.” You deadpanned, sucking in your cheeks to stop yourself from smiling. It was no secret that Peter had a thing for you, and you had a thing for him but it was like neither of you wanted to act on your feelings in fear of ruining the friendship you both had grown accustomed to.

Peter turned around as if you were talking to someone behind him, looking flustered as he waved his hand around. There was no denying the blush that was creeping up on his cheeks.

“Not staring.” He muttered, sounding just as flustered as he looked, walking over to the edge of the pool so he could dro his towel on the other chair next to yours.

You hummed out a response, toeing off your slippers so you could walk around the edge of the small steaming hot tub at the other side of the pool. Peter watched you with mild interest, hoping that you’d be mindful of the wet tiles and not slip and fall to your death.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in as you slipped your feet into the hot tub, getting rid of his t-shirt so he could join you. The water was warm and you tried to hold in your shudders as you slipped the rest of your body in, forcing yourself to sit down and get used to the warm water. You peeked beneath your lashes as Peter plopped himself down in front of you, openly gasping as he felt the water. Your eyes followed the movements of the long strands of his hair, falling in front of his eyes as he looked down at his hands beneath the water, resurfacing them so he could push his hair back, slicking it with water. You were mesmerized, watching as the water clung to his hair, clumping them up.

“Stop staring.” He mimicked your tone of voice and you blinked, eyebrows rising so far up that they almost disappeared into your hairline.

Without thinking about it, you brought a hand up and flicked it into the rippling water, sending it flying over Peter’s face. A giggle escaped your lips as you took in his shocked expression, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut to keep the liquid from getting in his eyes. He rubbed them with his hands, blinking them open to focus on you.

“I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel.” He said and you gasped in mock offence, hand flying to your chest.

“You wound me!” You dramatically whispered, pouting. Peter shot off a grin in your direction, splashing his hand over the surface so harshly that water almost went up your nose. You spluttered in shock. “Hey! You’re hurting me.”

Peter held back a laugh, raising his hands in surrender before dropping his smile to gravely stare at you. You rubbed your eyes.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked quietly and you frowned at the change of tone of his voice, wondering why he was suddenly whispering.

It didn’t hit you until you noticed how he shifted in the tub, scooting forward so he was standing in the middle of the hot tub as the bubbles were errupting loudly from the sides. He was flirting with you, and that wasn’t anything new. But the look in his eyes told you that he was willing to take that extra step neither of you had taken before. And you were all for it.

“Here.” You paused, pointing at your cheek. Your eyes never left his as he leaned forward, his eyes asking for permission before he went for the kill. The move that would blur the line between friendship and relationship.

With your nod of approval, he pressed his lips to your cheek, soft lips lingering on your wet skin. He was breathing silently, but you heard it clearly even over the roar of the hot tub and the million thoughts running through your head.

“Where else?” He murmured, lips brushing against your skin as he spoke.

You didn’t answer, opting to turn your head just slightly so you snubbed Peter’s bottom lip with your own. He sucked in a breath, angling his head before pressing forward, kissing you carefully.

The kiss didn’t go further than that, because Peter pulled back just slightly to stare at your blissed out face, lips pulling into a smile as he looked you over.

A bang drew you away from each other and you both turned toward the source of the sound. Ned was walking in, along with the whole team behind him and he looked so smug that you actually felt annoyance bubble inside you.

“The party is here!” He yelled and you heard Peter sigh from where he was leaning over your sitting body, head dropping to rest on your shoulder.

“I suppose there’s no way to get out of this unseen?” He murmured against your skin, tilting his head up so he could peer at you. You cocked an eyebrow, smirking at him.

“Oh, honey…” You giggled, stroking his cheek. “You underestimate my ability to lie.”

detention

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: high school is hard enough without the drama of having a popular brother. but it becomes even more complicated when you happen to have a crush on his best friend.

details/genre: high school au, brother!seokjin, fluff, kind of badboy!bts

word count: 3.4k (i worked really hard on this!)

Originally posted by bangthebae

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No Competition

Part 2


Request:  Hi can I request a short where Reid and Prentiss both like the new girl and offer to go to the scene with her/escort her places, try and protect her and just little things like they both bring her coffee etc. Cool thanks :) - anonymous

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader x Emily Prentiss

A/N: I kinda had fun with this one! I decided to make it a little less serious but I hope it lived up to what you wanted!


Originally posted by imafucking-leo

The entire BAU team was left speechless when they first laid eyes on you. The way you walked, talked, held yourself, hell, even just the way you moved was enough to captivate them. Everyone in the office had held a small crush on you for a moment, even Hotch was guilty of it. But while most of them quickly moved from it and simply formed a strong friendship with you, there were two that couldn’t quite seem to get over it.

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my mother tells me to buckle up, that i could die if we were in an accident. with little interest in dying, i do.
my mother tells me i’m her girl, that she would do anything for me. she says i’m her rock, her strength.
my mother starts drinking again. i discover my favorite bar food is a bag of nacho flavored combos, and a cherry coke. i become familiar with every bar in the area.
my mother tells me to bring her another beer. i comply with little resistance. i’m ten years old.
my mother drinks a thirty pack a day. she tells me i will never amount to anything. she tells me to kill myself if i’m unhappy. i try.
my mother tells me to kill myself if i really want to. i try again.
my mother tells me to buckle up, that i could die if we were in an accident. i don’t.

idk if this has been said but kevin day is a slut for granola