bar sorting

the puppy bowl is the greatest invention of the 21st century. hair dryers included.
The 4th Episode: A Complete Johnlock Fix-It

The screen is black.  A woman’s voice cuts through.  It’s Molly’s voice.

“Forward? Or Backward?”

A blinding white light floods the darkness.  A pulsating heartbeat. 

“Backward,” sighs Sherlock.

White noise stings as scenes are replayed backward. Sherlock and John running backward.  John’s fist recoiling from Sherlock in the morgue.  The christening, backward. The birth, backward.  The plane glides into the air, tail first. Magnussen’s limp body jolts into standing position, Sherlock puts the gun back in John’s pocket. The flashdrive jumps from the fire, into John’s hand.  The gun drops, the coin falls back into Mary’s fingers. Sherlock raises from Magnussen’s floor, the blood-stained shirt turns freshly white. Mary stands across from Sherlock, gun drawn.

Roll Title Credits.

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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Neil and Andrew are at some sort of bar or restaurant and someone hits on Neil. Neil doesn't understand because he isnt used to being flirted with.. But Andrew does. (Andrew's reaction?) 🌸thx

Eden’s seems louder than usual as they push through the doors. The music blaring through the club is especially bass heavy, and the beat thrums through the floor and up through Neil’s toes. Neil can already see the large sea of writhing bodies on the dance floor, and more bodies are pressed together up on this level around the bar and tables. He weaves his way around the bodies, keeping his eyes on Kevin’s back as he follows him.

When they sidled up to the bar, they’re lucky enough to catch a group moving away with their drinks. Nicky and Aaron are quick to grab the abandoned stools with Neil and Kevin filling in the space behind them. A few minutes have ticked by, the music switching over to an upbeat EDM track, when a bartender comes over to them. Neil doesn’t recognize the bartender, a tall guy with a mop of blonde hair, but that doesn’t stop the bartender from smiling easily at them.

“What can I get y’all?”

“Actually, we’re waiting for Roland,” Nicky explains, trying to peer around the bartender.

“Oh, he’s not in tonight,” the bartender says. “Something about a family emergency? So you’ve got me, Brayden.” 

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hey folks just an update on my health- general consensus is that I had some form of seizure. GP is referring me to a specialist and we’ll see what happens, but they’re actually a lot more common than people think and as I’ve never had one before (barring these sorts of incidents and like, two migraines) we don’t think I’m at high risk, and it might have been triggered by stress amongst other things. Thanks for asking after me and being patient, I’m still feeling a bit fragile from it all so I don’t know how much extra stuff I can draw for you guys but I promise I’m working hard on TPoH for the weekend.

6

Dan x Amy meeting up for drinks

jooleah  asked:

how about harry/draco getting back together after a breakup OR drag queen!harry (or both in the same story heeey)

mate i have been trying to write this for like 2 weeks now, i’m sorry it’s not happening, but here are some vague hcs

  • i think harry hates attention too much to ever be a drag queen in like the performing sense, but i can def see him playing around with gender and queerness and drag in his own quiet but sure way
  • harry wandering bored round grimmauld place in a soft flowery dress, capped sleeves tight on his shoulders, lounging on the couch with his knees hooked over the arm and the skirt falling pretty and gauzy around his hairy legs
  • gardening in a pink slip he’s pretty sure once belonged to walburga with a flannel shirt thrown unbuttoned over the top when the sun goes down and it starts to get chilly
  • doesn’t really mind what pronouns people use, ‘he’ still feels familiar and comfortable, ‘they’ is kind of nice, one morning he comes downstairs in skinny jeans and a yellow crop top and ginny looks up and says absently, warmly, “oh, you’re such a pretty girl,” and harry thinks about it all day, warm and shy
  • can’t wear high heels, no matter how good they make his legs look, he never gets over the uneasy feeling that he might suddenly need to run
  • finds a kilt that he assumes was sirius’s, wears it quite a bit, it makes a bit of a splash when he goes out for a drink in it and the daily prophet get pictures and it promptly starts a trend
  • hot august days lying in grimmauld place’s garden with sunglasses and a too big chudley cannons t-shirt and lace underwear
  • lipstick, always slightly smeared in one corner where his hand jerks
  • luna puts winged eyeliner on him one night and he’s almost frighteningly beautiful
  • he has one photo of his grandparents, the potters, when they were young, and he likes the gold bangles all up his grandma’s arms, writes awkwardly to parvati for advice, and she takes him shopping in brick lane
  • is in a bar feeling sort of tired and sad and itchy in his own skin one night, wearing a short black dress that looks half like an oversized 80s shirt except its tight and sweet around his waist, and cheap tights and his sneakers trailing laces. when he spots the blonde head of hair his heart sort of sinks, not in the mood for smirking or, worse, one of the tense, awkward conversations they’ve tended to have after the war. only when draco saunters over and says, “well, potter,” his sneer falls away before it can even get properly going, and his eyes go dark. he says, slow and a little surprised, his drawl almost warm, considering, “you look nice.”
5

Photo taken from the real life Bar Lupin in Ginza, Tokyo.

It’s a very cozy hole-in-the-wall sort of bar. There are photos of the famous authors such as Dazai Osamu, Sakaguchi Ango, etc that it was a a favorite haunt of framed throughout and the menu even lists which drinks were the author’s favorites.

On a personal note: the owner, upon asking my group if we stopped by the bar due to its appearance in BSD, pulled out the Newtype magazine issue with a spread on the animation of the Dark Era arc as well as a copy of the light novel. He explained to us where each part of the bar that can be seen in the background of the pictures was and even kindly offered to take photos of us there posing as the Buraiha Trio.

The Way Gravity Works

A/N: Was supposed to be working on a Jaehyun piece, but felt this strange urge to write something heartbreaking and painful, so I ended up here XD. Taeyong’s a sweetheart regardless of my fixation on Jae and this was fun. Enjoy! Oh yeah, subtle Maroon 5 reference somewhere in here. Maybe no one will notice? Mind the typos, will probably edit some time in the near future.

Originally posted by t-yong

Gravity works differently between you and Taeyong.

Pairing: Taeyong x Reader
Genre: Angst, Romance, Brother’s best friend?
Word Count: 9000+

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Political Animals-Part 10

This is an A/B/O AU.  You are the Omega artist daughter of Naomi Novak, a world-class heart surgeon who is running for Mayor of New York City.  After a meeting where your mother’s advisers call you a “liability”, she tells you that if you don’t do as your told she will cut you off.  You storm out and wind up in a bar a few blocks away.

The hottest Alpha you have EVER laid eyes on with a scent so mouthwatering you’re practically drooling offers to buy you a drink.  It’s just a drink, right? What do you have to lose? Only everything.

Characters: Omega! Reader, Beta! Naomi Novak, Alpha! Castiel Novak, Omega! Meg Novak, Claire Novak, Jimmy Novak, Alpha! Sam Winchester, Alpha! Dean Winchester, Alpha! John Winchester, Omega! Jo Harvelle

Big thanks to @moansmisha  for letting me use some of her ideas from this post.

Master List

Part 1 (all parts are linked)

Parts in bold are text messages

I looked at Sam in surprise. “I’m sure it’s……I can’t be……..wait, what?”

He took my hand and kissed the top of my head.  “I said, I think you’re pregnant. I remember my Dad saying he always knew when my Mom was carrying his pup because she smelled different.“

I tilted my head, considering him. “Different how?”

Sam walked over until he was standing right in front of me. With our height difference, the top of my head reached below his shoulder. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over my cheek.

I instinctively bared my neck to him in submission. He scented the column of my neck from my ear to my shoulder.

“Normally you smell like flowers with a hint of warm vanilla thrown in. Now there’s something else. Something that wasn’t there before.” He whispered, his low voice sending shivers down my spine.

“What?” I asked curiously.

“I don’t know. Something spicy. I can’t explain it.“ Sam admitted. “But whatever it is, it’s making me want to throw you on the floor and fuck you senseless.”

“So why don’t you?” I couldn’t resist asking.

Sam closed his eyes and turned, grimacing and wrinkling his nose as if he was in pain.

“Because we’re going to the drugstore to buy a pregnancy test.”

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you’ll look good (in between my sheets)

prompt: person A and person B meet at a bar, each nursing a broken heart after a recent breakup. bonus for a selfie and smut. 

word count: 3,654 (*aaron burr voice* sweet jesus)

pairing: daveed diggs x reader

warnings: smut, daveed “i can charm the skirts off a nun” diggs, “okay so we’re doing this” reader. 

a/n: when i die, delete this so daveed never finds this sin. 

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Remember: Josh Dun fanfic

A/N: Just a reminder that I’ve gotten all of your requests, it’s just a matter of finding the time to write and post them. But don’t worry, I promise I’ll get to them soon! Love you guys! xoxo

Anonymous said:
Hey! May I request a Josh Dun imagine? Maybe like where the reader gets drunk and they come home to Josh and the reader’s all like “kiss me” and Josh does but he stops her before they do anything else bc Josh wouldn’t take advantage of the reader and it’s all cute and shiz lol. Love your writing! :) <3

*gender neutral

Bright lights, fancy awards, elegant attire, loud applause, crisp champagne, a crowd full of people, and your two best friends, it was a night like no other. Ever since Tyler and Josh’s new album hit the top of the charts, they had been busy as hell. Whether award shows, parties, interviews, concerts, touring, music video filming, or just traveling on the road, they always seemed to be the center of attention. It didn’t surprise you that they had won another award, but you were surprised when they decided to go to the after party. Usually they would bow out, decide to go back to the tour bus, and instead, blast music, eat cereal, and do their own little thing. They were never usually ones for parties. But however, winning an award and just finishing tour, going to a grand scale celebrity party must’ve sounded like the perfect way to celebrate. “Come on, y/n,” Josh insisted. “It’ll be fun. We don’t even have to drink or anything, we can just go there, talk to some people, dance for a little bit, that’s all.”

“Just a couple hours,” Tyler agreed.

“I never said I wasn’t going,” you narrowed your eyes. “I’m just double checking that this is really what you guys want to do.”

“Why? You doubt me and my partying abilities?” Tyler playfully gasped, putting a hand to his chest and acting deeply offended. “Believe me, y/n, I can bust a move like nobody knows.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m just making sure none of you will chicken out on me halfway through the night.”

“Never,” Tyler shook his head. “I’m on top of the world right now, and I don’t think I want to come down anytime soon. How about you, Josh?”

“Huh?” Josh lifted his head from his phone. “I was just scrolling through the group chat. The party starts in a couple minutes. I’d start heading over now.”

“Teenagers and their phones,” Tyler clicked his tongue.

“I’m researching,” Josh laughed. “I have to find the address somehow.”

It wasn’t long before you guys had arrived, and sure enough, it was just as you had imagined it. There was a plethora of people crowding the dance floor where a professional DJ and live band were playing music, a kitchen equipped with a bar tender serving all sorts of drinks and foods ranging anywhere from a five-foot-tall chocolate fountain to gourmet French fries, a longue where people were smoking and snorting who knows what kind of drugs, and of course, the usual pool table in the corner. “They went all out,” you shouted to Josh over the music as Tyler led you both towards the kitchen.

“Typical party,” he shrugged, putting an arm around you as you approached the bar tender. You and Josh were just friends, but you had to admit, you had a tiny crush on him, and when he put his arm around your shoulder, you couldn’t help but feel a small tug on your heartstrings. You tried to ignore your stupid feelings and took a seat next to Josh before asking for a drink.

“I’ll have a tequila,” you ordered. Josh eyed you strangely. “What?”

“I don’t know,” he tried acting casual. “I think I’m just going to stick to Red Bull tonight.”

“You should have at least one drink,” you argued, thanking the bar tender with a nod as he handed you a glass and you downed a shot. “Loosen up, celebrate, have some fun.”

“I’m already having fun,” he chuckled, popping open the tab of his can before taking a sip. “As long as I’m with you, I’m enjoying myself.”

“Flirt,” you smirked, trying to ignore the blush in your cheeks and ordering another shot. “You sure you don’t want one?”

“Somebody’s going to have to drive us home, remember?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Tyler already agreed to do that on the ride here,” you pointed out. “Here, I’ll order a margarita and you just have a sip or two.”

“Y/n,” Josh began to protest, but you were already waving at the bar tender to hit you up. You started on your next drink and Josh took a deep breath. “Maybe you should pace yourself a little bit. There’s still a lot of the night to go.”

“I’ll be just fine,” you rolled your eyes. That’s when Josh looked down at his phone. “What’s the matter?”

“Mark Hoppus just got here,” Josh explained. “He wants to congratulate me on the award and some stuff, talk for a little bit, catch up. Is it okay if I leave you here?”

“Yup,” you nodded. “I’m not going anywhere!”

“No more drinks,” Josh narrowed his eyes. “Not until I get back anyways, got it? It will only take a couple minutes. Look, Tyler’s right over there talking to Pete Wentz if you need somebody.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you groaned. “Go talk to Mark. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

“Okay,” Josh complied hesitantly before sliding off his seat, gulping down the rest of his Red Bull, and then heading off to find his friend.

The rest of the night was basically a blur. You remember someone sitting down beside you, either Joe Trohman or Brendon Urie, and they had convinced you to have a couple more drinks. The bar tender had eventually cut you off because you had reached your limit for the night. One of your favorite songs came on and you stumbled onto the dance floor, slurring out the lyrics noisily, a random stranger picking you up off the floor, and then Tyler coming to save you. “Woah there,” Tyler steadied you. “You’re a mess.”

“Where’s Josh?” your incomprehensible attempt at speaking tumbled out of your mouth.

“Hmm?” Tyler cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I think he went back. He couldn’t find you.”

“He left?” you slurred out.

“Yeah,” Tyler nodded. “To his hotel room. It’s getting late anyways. You should probably go back too. He’ll take care of you, I’ll leave you with him for the night. How about that?”

“I’d like that,” you responded happily.

“Goodness gracious, y/n, you’re reeking of alcohol,” Tyler frowned. “How much did you drink?”

“Just a little,” you replied.

“Uh huh…” he murmured. “Well how about we get you home?”

“Is Josh at home?” you sputtered out excitedly, your mind nothing but a jumbled mess of thoughts.

“He’s at the hotel, yeah,” Tyler answered. “But come on. We’ve got to get you in the car and then drive there too.” It took a while for him to drag you out to the driveway and help you into your seat, but eventually you were sitting shotgun, buckled in, and somewhat sane as Tyler drove down the road.

“Can I talk to Josh?” you wondered.

“Of course you can,” Tyler laughed. “We’ll see him in a little while.”

“No,” you whined impatiently. “Right now.”

“Right now?” he raised his eyebrows, gaze flickering from the road to you. “Uh, sure. You can call him if you want.”

“I can?” you asked eagerly.

“Sure you can,” he chuckled. “I mean, we’ll see him in just a couple minutes, but if you have to talk to him so bad, you can go right ahead.”

You fumbled for your phone in your pocket before pulling it out, somehow by miracle able to properly call Josh on the first try. The phone rang several times before he answered. “Hey y/n,” he greeted. “Sorry, I got kind of sleepy and I asked Tyler to take you home. How are you doing?”

“I’m so happy,” you sighed, slurring your words. “You should’ve been there.”

“Oh gosh,” Josh groaned. “Did you drink some more?”

“Just a little,” you insisted.

“A lot,” Tyler piped up.

“Don’t listen to him,” you argued. “I’m just a bit tipsy, that’s all.”

“You want to stay with me tonight?” Josh offered. “In case you get sick or something? I’m sure you won’t be so happy in a couple hours when all that junk starts to ruin your system.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Tyler explained loud enough for Josh to hear. “If that’s alright with you.”

“It’s cool,” Josh replied. “You’ll be sticking with me tonight, y/n.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you grinned.

“Don’t get too excited,” Tyler rolled his eyes. “You’re probably going to have a killer hangover tomorrow morning.”

When you rolled into the parking lot of the hotel, Tyler could barely get you standing on your two feet. “I’m kind of dizzy,” you admitted. “Maybe that’s why my feet don’t work.”

“I’m dizzy just looking at you,” Tyler laughed. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and to Josh’s room.”

“How do I walk if my feet don’t work?” you pouted.

“Your feet work just fine,” Tyler sighed. “You just need to try to use them.”

“I want Josh,” you insisted, swaying a couple times before Tyler stood you upright.

“I’m about to give up on you,” Tyler glared playfully. “Don’t make me call him down here to carry you.”

“I’d like that,” you giggled cheerfully. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Y/n, you are so drunk,” Tyler rolled his eyes.

“I want to see Josh,” you complained as he tugged you towards the door of the hotel, shoving you towards the elevator. “I love Josh.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” Tyler smirked. “You don’t have to be drunk for me to figure that out.”

“I love him so much,” you repeated.

“Well you better behave yourself,” Tyler narrowed your eyes, helping you out of the elevator and supporting you as you ambled down the hallway to Josh’s hotel room. When Josh opened the door, he stared at you, widening his eyes.

“Oh geez,” he muttered. “I thought I told you not to drink anymore!”

“You got it from here?” Tyler asked, pained look on his face. “I’m dead tired. Y/n’s been quite the handful.”

“Hey!” you snapped. “I’ve been an angel!”

“Have you now?” Josh chuckled.

“I’m going to turn in for the night,” Tyler sighed. “You have fun with that one.”

“I’ll try,” Josh teased. He lugged you into the room and sat you on the couch. “Try to get some sleep, okay?”

“No!” you whined, tugging at his arm when he tried to walk away. “I want to stay with you.”

“You want me to stay out here for a little while until you fall asleep?” he wondered.

“I want to fall asleep with you,” you corrected. “Pretty please? With a cherry on top?”

“You’re cute when you’re drunk,” he rolled his eyes.

“You’re cute all the time,” you insisted.

“Sure,” Josh laughed. “Come on, how about you join me and we can go to my bed?”

“Bed?” you raised your eyebrows and grinned.

“Stop it,” he shook his head. “I mean so we can sleep.”

“You want to sleep with me?” you smiled slyly. “Joshua Dun.”

“You’re just being silly,” he argued. “Come on, we’re going to go sleep. In bed. Now.”

“Whatever you say,” you shrugged, goofy grin still plastered on your face as he just laughed and scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the hotel bed and before tucking you in. “Bridal style.”

“That’s right,” he chuckled. “I don’t want you falling on your face, it’s best if I carry you.”

“You carry me like a bride,” you yawned happily. “Does that mean we’re going to get married?”

“Sure,” he joked. “If you want.”

“That would make me so happy,” you sighed, turning over to face him, scooching closer to him underneath the sheets. “You and me, together forever.”

“You’re so drunk,” he laughed. “I bet you won’t even remember any of this tomorrow morning.”

“Is that when our wedding is?” you tilted your head. “Tomorrow morning?”

“Sure, why not,” Josh decided.

“Can I ask you something?” you frowned. “It’s important.”

“Of course,” he smiled. “Anything you want.”

“Can you kiss me?” you inquired, hopeful eyes gazing up at his. “Please?”

“Uh…” Josh stared at you for a second, debating it. “I’d love to, really, but I think you’d rather have me kiss you when you’re sober. So you remember, you know?”

“So you want to?” your eyes lit up.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’d love to. But I’d also want you to remember.”

“Maybe I don’t need to remember,” you offered. “Maybe it can be our secret. Just tonight.”

“Just tonight?” Josh raised an eyebrow, still contemplating it in his head. You were being awfully tempting, and those lips looked so soft and sweet, but he knew it was wrong. He shouldn’t do anything you wouldn’t be comfortable with sober. Much less, he had just confessed that he wanted to kiss you! He was crazy! What if you remembered that tomorrow morning? What if it was just your drunk self-talking? Questions swirled around in his brain and doubt began to eat away at him, anxiety slowly seeping into his brain.

“Please,” you begged. “Come on, Josh. Just one kiss won’t hurt.”

“I guess it won’t,” he agreed shyly.

“Then come on,” you insisted, staring at him. You lowered your voice to barely a whisper. “Just kiss me.” He leaned in and rested a hand behind your head, pulling you close and kissing your lips gently, lingering a moment before pulling back, opening his eyes and staring at you.

“I love you,” he breathed, still lost in your eyes, trying to figure out what he had just done, much less, said.

“I love you too,” you grinned. “Come on, let’s not stop there.” You leaned in for another kiss but he shook his head, closing his eyes tight before opening them again.

“Not tonight,” he took a deep breath. “Maybe when you’re sober, but I um, I shouldn’t have done that y/n. You’re not thinking right.”

“I’m thinking perfectly fine!” you rolled your eyes. “Please Josh, I want more.”

“So do I,” he mumbled. “But I really don’t think we should do this now.”

“Josh,” you stated his name and reached forward to grab his shirt, snaking your hands down his chest and trying to tug it up. “We can’t stop there.”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “We can. We should.”

“I want this off,” you whined, tugging up his shirt again but he just laughed nervously, tugging the hem of his shirt back down to his waist.

“Let’s try to keep our clothes on, okay?” he raised his eyebrows. “I think it’s best you get some sleep, clear your head, and we’ll try this again some other time.”

“Not another time,” you complained. “Now.”

“I know, but we can’t,” he insisted. “It’s not right.”

“Didn’t it feel so good though?” you argued. “Your lips on mine? Being so close? Just the two of us, in this bed, together? Didn’t you feel something?”

“I did,” he nodded slowly. “However I think you just aren’t in the right circumstances to do any of that right now. You probably don’t even understand half of the things you’re saying. How about we cuddle and fall asleep, is that okay?”

“I want more than cuddles,” you persisted.

“Look, y/n, I’m sorry,” he sighed. “But please, I’m not going to argue with you anymore. Let’s just go to sleep. Please?”

“Okay,” you mumbled.

“Thank you,” he sighed. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

A couple minutes passed before you fell asleep, eyes closed, wrapped in Josh’s arms. You both laid there in silence, a mixture of soft snores, quiet heartbeats, and shallow breathing. That was until the sun filtered through the blinds and there was a churning, horrible, miserable feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you stumbled out of bed, escaping his arms and staggering to the bathroom, flinging open the door and retching all the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. Vomiting wasn’t a pretty sight, especially during a horrific hangover, and you felt absolutely embarrassed you had caused the mess in Josh’s hotel bathroom. You heard him stirring in bed, calling your name, and your face instantly turned red. Your head was spinning, a terrible migraine overtaking you, and sure enough, you found yourself puking up even more. You felt Josh kneel beside you, rubbing small gentle circles on your back, brushing your hair out of your face. “I’m sorry,” you sputtered out. “Shit, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay,” he reassured. “Don’t apologize.”

“I feel miserable,” you mumbled and he frowned, handing you a towel to clean your mouth and flushing the toilet, helping you up and giving you a hug.

“I told you not to drink anymore last night,” he reminded.

“Did I?” you wondered, watching his eyes soften as he released the embrace.

“You don’t remember anything… do you?” he whispered.

“Why? Did uh, did something happen?” you looked around and started to realize how strange it was that you slept in Josh’s bed, he was cuddling you this morning, and you supposedly got absolutely wasted last night. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, nothing happened. I just let you stay here for the night because I was afraid you might get sick. I’m glad I did, I mean, I wouldn’t want you all alone with a horrible hangover.”

“Thank you,” you stuttered out. “Goddammit I feel absolutely miserable.”

“I’ll get you a glass of water and some Advil,” he decided. “Just take it easy, okay? When you’re done you can just lay on the bed. Got it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “Thanks so much.”

“No problem,” he gave a small smile. “I just really hope you feel better soon.”

You took a wet washcloth and wiped your face, taking a deep breath, then heading to the bed, rolling underneath the sheets. Josh approached you, handing you a cup of water and a couple Advil, which you downed and thanked him before resting your head on the pillow. “Can you, uh, stay with me? Maybe?” you asked shyly. “I don’t really want to be alone.”

“Sure,” he replied, pulling up the covers and lying beside you. Without thinking, he put an arm around you, pulling you closer, and you smiled. “Uh, is this okay? If I do this?”

“It’s more than okay,” you laughed. “I just wish I didn’t feel so shitty so I could enjoy it more. It’s not often I get cuddles.”

“You got plenty last night,” he chuckled.

“About that…” your voice trailed off. “What um, what did I do exactly? Last night?”

“You were fine,” Josh reassured. “I kept you under control. Tyler made sure you behaved.”

“Behaved?” you took a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” he smirked.

“W-what did I do?” you stammered.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I mean, obviously you don’t really remember. And when you were drunk you promised it would be our little secret.”

“Josh-” a worried, embarrassed, scared look spread across your face.

“Don’t worry,” he insisted. “Much to your disliking, I made sure we kept all our clothes on.”

“What does that mean?” you grew quiet, twice as self-conscious now.

“You really want to know?” Josh raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I sort of do,” you admitted. “I mean, if I’m as rambunctious as you say I was.”

“Maybe I should tell you when you feel better,” he decided.

“I want to know,” you argued. “Now. Please?”

“You were getting sort of, um, suggestive last night,” he explained. “You wanted to do stuff, but I told you no cause you were absolutely wasted. You got all mopey and sad and kept persisting and we uh, we kissed, once. But then I made you go to bed.”

“We kissed?” your face turned bright red. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry, look I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay,” he laughed. “I’m fine. I just thought that um, you might want to know.”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “So… was it a good kiss?”

“Maybe you would’ve remembered if you weren’t so drunk,” he rolled his eyes jokingly.

“No really,” you persisted. “Or was it awkward?”

“Maybe you should find out for yourself,” he suggested.

“What do you mean?” you narrowed your eyes.

“You know exactly what I mean,” he whispered. You stared at him for a second before capturing him in a kiss, pressing his lips on his and feeling him pull you closer, eyes closed, mouths opened, tongues moving in syncopation, his body so close to yours. When you pulled away you both opened your eyes, staring at each other, and you blinked twice.

“Did that really just happen?” you wondered, gasping for breath.

“Yeah,” Josh breathed, eyes staring into yours. “It did.”

“No, like last night,” you clarified, taking a deep breath and still unable to move your gaze away from his. “Did that happen?”

“Not as intimate, no,” he shook his head. “And uh, I don’t know about you, but I liked this one a lot better.”

“Me too,” you smiled. “Hopefully I’ll remember.”

“You think, uh, we should do it again?” he hinted. “Just in case?”

“Josh,” you laughed. “I don’t think I’ll be forgetting any of this anytime soon.”

“Do you still feel horrible?” he tilted his head to the side.

“I feel much better,” you replied. “But like you said, I think another kiss wouldn’t hurt.”

“You know you didn’t have to be drunk to kiss me, y/n,” Josh reminded. “I would’ve kissed you sober just fine. All you had to do is ask.”

“I was scared,” you admitted. “I mean, hell, what’s Tyler going to think?”

“I think he already knows,” Josh laughed. “You told him you were in love with me last night.”

“I did?” you widened your eyes. “What else happened that you never told me about?”

“You wanted my shirt off,” he added.

“I still do,” you teased.

“I’m pretty sure I can make that happen,” he gave a sly smile.

“Yeah?” you grinned.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“I think I found the perfect cure to a killer hangover,” you chuckled.

“What? Kissing?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Nah,” you shook your head. “You.”

i’m asking you (what you know about these things)

[jonxsansa, modern au, ~5k+]

said there’s no mistakin’
what i feel is really love

—sam smith (whitney houston cover)  

When Sansa had received the gold-leaf invitation to celebrate Loras Tyrell and Renly Baratheon’s spring wedding, her expectations were high. She had known Loras since high school—indeed, she was best friends with his sister Margaery to this day, five years after their graduation—and as such she had come to know the Tyrells to be the most extravagant of families. As a young woman with equally lavish tastes, Sansa had gotten on with them famously.

While never quite so bold or, at times, rather outlandish as Margaery and Loras, because of their influence Sansa had gained a sense of poise and sophistication well beyond that of her own family. That’s not to say that the Starks were not held in high esteem. But Catelyn Stark had always said that while all of her children had been born with silver spoons in their mouths, her eldest daughter had grown up to fashion hers into a crown. Sansa had once taken offense to that, thinking her mother meant to make a materialistic fool of her, but as she grew older she gained a better perspective.

Not one among their elite set did not have a taste for the finer things—not even her younger sister, Arya, much as she would like to pretend otherwise—and Sansa simply accepted her good fortune and used it to do good by herself and others. Margaery felt the need to point this out at every availability, usually when Sansa showed up to a social event with a less-than reputable beau on her arm. Which, even Sansa can admit in retrospect, is often. Loras’ wedding is no exception, although Sansa has yet to look at it in hindsight.  

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4

of course my first gotg gifset had to be a bucky/rocket joke

Given how quickly humans age, I feel like the trolls would be equal parts proud and sad to see their human teammates grow and mature into fine young adults, and then continue growing into experienced protectors and full-fledged guardians.

It’s bittersweet, because on one hand they’ve come so far from the times when they could barely fend for themselves, and now they have their own stories of battles past. On the other hand… they’ve grown so quickly. Too quickly, almost. It’s less than a decade before their bodies are physically matured, and they’ve reached their full heights and grown into their forms. Still not nearly the size of most trolls, but they are bigger than they were, and stronger, especially with their continuous training.

(i wonder if Draal ever looks at Jim and feels guilt for the fact that he tried to kill him, especially when he was so young)

What’s more, they are mentally matured sooner even than most humans, forced to grow up, to adapt and change in the face of a war that wasn’t technically theirs to begin with. They’ve had to cope with grief, loss, keeping secrets from family, facing horrors few people even know exist. They manage as best they can with support from each other and the trolls, but the cracks are still there.

And of course, humans don’t live forever. They would all keep fighting for as long as they could, and barring any sort of crippling illness or injury, if they kept up an active lifestyle they’d be able to keep at it for decades. (and there has been the suggestion that repeated exposure to Heartstone Trollmarket, as well as constant proximity to artifacts imbued with magic, might grant the humans a somewhat longer life span, especially in Jim’s case) even so, they wouldn’t last much longer than a century.

One way or another, they would have to say goodbye for good. Jim’s sould probably follows the lead of the previous Trollhunters and remains with the amulet.

On a lighter note: can you imagine if Draal became the next Trollhunter after Jim finally dies.

Because
Grumpy Ghost Old Man Jim. Draal making jokes at Jim’s ghost about how since he’s finally dead, now an actual troll is Trollhunter as it should be, and Jim is just “Excuuuse me.” The near constant banter every time Draal enters the Void.

(also, imagine if Draal did something stupid and the next time he enters the Void both Jim AND Kanjigar are there, giving him that disapproving Dad look)

Memory

Pairing: Sam x Max Banes

Word Count: 1,679

Warnings: m/m kiss, bisexual!Sam(?), awkward fluff

Summary: Set post 12.06 Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox - Sam meets up with Max Banes, and he discovers a part of himself that he’s never even thought of exploring. 

Send a message or leave a comment! Feedback is much appreciated!

Sam’s sitting at the bar alone, watching a rerun of some talk show with a petite, blonde host with eyelashes that look like they’re gonna fall off any second. The Crown Royal in his hand is smooth and sweet, just how he likes his alcohol.

In his other hand, he clutches a scrap of paper with someone’s phone number scribbled on it. It’s from the waitress that keeps coming back to ask him if he’d like anything to eat. When she’s not looking, he scrunches it up and lets it drop to the floor. She’s pretty, but not what he needs right now.

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anonymous asked:

(((hi!! i really love your headcanons and gosh u just put so much character into these dorks ur amazing))) can i ask for MC getting drunk after a fight w/ Seven + V + Saeran, finding her and driving her back home? (Extra points if she sleeps in the car on the while the boys apologize lmao)

I wasn’t too sure on where to go with this, so it might be a little all over the place. I also hope you don’t mind I did headcannons, thank you so much for saying that, it means a lot. 

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anonymous asked:

oh my god can you do the gay club scene we never got but with hoopkins?? lol because i feel like molly would totally not know what to do in a gay bar and then be flustered and they could dance. idk. :)

Stella is leaning forward, squeezing Molly’s arm, and for one moment Molly thinks she’s going in for a kiss and that’s- great, actually. Great decision, yes please and-

“Tell me after,” Stella slurs just a bit, and hiccoughs. “’M going to the loo.”

And the disappointment on Molly’s face must show because Stella winks at her (excellent!) and adds, “I’ll only be tick! Get some more drinks, the ones with the cute umbrellas.”

“Yes!” Molly says, rather loudly. “Okay!”

And Stella is gone. It’s only then that Molly replays her words and realises that she must be in some sort of bar. She fumbles with her phone, and just about manages to text:

wHere am I??! xoxo

Immediately, dots indicating a response being typed pop up:

…Wrong number? -S

NO youre edecibe no i mean a detective youll knowwe

Oh you’re having a VERY good night. John says turn on your GPS? -S

???????

Never mind. Case solved. 

What follows is a google maps attachment of her location with the caption: ‘John and I know this one really well. Good music.’

Then there’s another little ping, and Molly frowns, screen wavering in front of her. It’s an online banking notification:

Transfer to your account: £20. Note: Stella likes tequila. Have fun! :) S & J

“Aaaaand I’m back. You alright, did you get the drinks?”

Molly blinks and slowly pockets her phone. The lights of the club sparkle in Stella’s eyes. 

“No,” she says firmly. “Let’s dance first.”

And she’s leaning over and tugging Stella by the wrists and Stella is laughing and laughing as they barge onto the dance floor. Stella does the macarena and Molly ends up in a spectacular giggle fit, until the song suddenly changes to something much slower.

Stella’s eyes flicker to Molly’s lips. She pulls Molly close.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” she whispers.

Molly’s heart skips and skips. 

“Then get the hell on with it,” she says, and closes the gap, and Stella’s lips are on hers, and the entire dance floor melts into the background.


I’m taking ficlet prompts. <3