drunk on ego

You know what you have to do right?” She purrs, smoke drifting from her curved lips. “You have to choose right now. You can either continue to fuck up any chance of happiness that comes your way and complain when things don’t work,” she levels me with a hard stare and smirks. “Or let it go. And realise that not everyone is going to treat you how he did, try to hope this one could be different and that I won’t have to pour you a drink if he turns out to be like the others.
—  Excerpt from the book I’ll never write // advice from my alter ego
Drunk Fic Requests


Have had my first alcoholic beverage in two years.  Quite tipsy right now. Definitely NOT in a fit state to write.

I see that as a personal challenge.

Hit me with WHATEVER request you want. The more BIZARRE or FILTHY or OBSCURE the better. And you will not get me writing you a response. you will get my monsterous half-drunk alter ego writing utter madness in response. The more crazy/kinky/weird it is, the better. Whatever you want guys. We’re not going for quality here. We’re going for…. let’s say ‘originality’. 

Crack fic? Go for it. Want to see The suriel going on a bender with Feyre? I’d totally write it right now. 

Take advantage of my drunken self in the best way possible.

I SHALL RESPOND ASAP FOR ONCE - only sober me takes a month to stew and plan over pormpts. Drunk me is #wild.

Originally posted by mypsychedelicsupernova

Episode 11 of Yuri On Ice

  • Holy shit
  • How do I begin to describe it
  • Yuuri wants to win gold but he’s 21 points behind Yurio 
  • Did Kubo pull a Tutberidze and turned Yurio from Yulia Lipnitskaya into Evgenia Medvedeva? Tanos?? Rippon quads?? The fuck??
  • 118.56 only exists if you’re drunk on Yurio’s ego 
  • The songs these skaters used made the competition look like an exhibition gala
  • Better yet, the Eurovision Song Contest
  • Thankfully this episode got in touch with reality when JJ bombed his program
  • Nobunari Oda sounded much more subdued doing commentary in the anime, he actually tends to lose his shit when he’s doing real skating commentary 
  • Otabek Altin will get the first GPF medal for Kazakhstan 
  • Denis Ten who
  • Is Yuuri retiring after the free skate or not 
  • Kubo what are you doing 
  • Who in their right mind would end their career in the middle of the season - oh wait
  • But at least he wants to show his and Victor’s love to the world
  • I do wonder if Kubo knows stuff we don’t know but either way that’s pretty cool. Go Kubo!

Hi guys! I wrote a drabble/fic very quickly loosely based off this prompt:


So you know, why not write another Rave fic. lol. so  I hope you enjoy, I didn’t attempt to tag because I don’t feel like crying right now..siiigh.  

 Rave, Round 2

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Harvard (part 6)

Sorry this took so long…

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5

[The following morning I wake up to my head using his bicep as a pillow, and his nose still dangerously close to mine.


Shit shit shit.

I climb out the bed and wince as he begins to shuffle, hoping he won’t wake up. I watch him, frozen on the spot, as he turns over and places his hands under the pillow, cuddling his face into it. I have to admit, he looks pretty adorable. I blush as I stare at his soft pink lips and remember how amazing they had felt last night. I shake my head and snap out of it, picking up a few stray items of clothing from the floor and gathering them in my arms as I make my way to find Arizona or Alex and devise an escape plan.

I find Arizona in the kitchen, happily humming to herself whilst making everyone coffee. She smiles, wide and bright as always, in spite of her obvious hangover.

“Hey!” she chirps. She looks down to see me clutching my heels, jacket and bra. “Ooooohhhh, you look guilty.” It’s as if she’s just heard the juiciest gossip of the year.

“Of what?!” I go on the defence, obviously.

“I could literally take a picture of you right now and use it as a definition of walk of shame,” she explains, laughing a little. She stirs a couple of sugars into two of the coffees. “Do you and your lover boy want coffee?”

“He’s not my lover boy, shut up! And no, I don’t. I want to get out of here… are you coming?”

“No. Come upstairs, we’re having coffee. Alex has just gone to buy bacon sandwiches so go wake Owen up…”

“I’d rather not, he looks like he’s tired,” I half-lie. He does look tired, but that’s not the reason I don’t want him to wake.

Arizona is in that mood where she won’t take no for an answer and as we climb the stairs to Meredith’s room, I hope conversation will steer clear of last night. I step through the door to a big, open room with a huge double bed underneath a large bay window. Meredith is still in the bed, propped up on the white metal frame with some pillows. Close to the bed is a coffee table with two beanbags nearby, one being occupied by Callie who’s curled up and wearing what looks like 4 or 5 layers. Arizona places the coffee tray carefully next to her and casually flops into the empty bean bag.

“Mornin’,” Callie groans.

“Hmmmm,” I grumble back. “Does anyone else feel like the last round of shots were completely unnecessary last night?”

Nobody answers but they all raise their hands in agreement, nodding.

Meredith pats the bed next to her and pulls the coves up for me to join her. “Where’s Owen?”

“Still asleep,” I dismiss.

“Is there a particular reason for him to be so sleepy?” Meredith teases as I shuffle over on the bed to share her pillow.

“No,” I curtly say. She thoughtfully narrows her eyes at my rudeness but drops it.

“Hey Shep! You’re up! Here,” Alex greets, throwing me a wrapped bacon sandwich as he strolls into the room and collapses sideways across the foot of the bed, handing the others their orders. “Where’s Owen?”

“Ugh, he’s asleep! Leave him be,” I mutter.

“Actually, I’m not.” His voice causes my heart to jump into my throat. I avoid looking at him but divert my eyes directly into the suspicious gaze of Meredith. I inwardly curse and just stare at my bacon instead, the room becoming white noise to my guilt-ridden ears.

I silently pray he’ll sit next to Callie but he walks over to the bed, sits and rests his feet up on the covers next to me. His arm grazes against mine and I can’t help but look to the patch of burning skin where we’re connected. I peer up from under my brow, curious as to what he is concentrating on- Callie, who I think is reminding the room of the karaoke attempts from last night, or me. It’s me. He’s watching my face, trying to gauge my reaction to his purposefully close proximity, and he smiles as (of course) the automatic blush creeps into my cheeks. I’m so confused- a few hours ago he was cheating on his girlfriend but he’s acting as if nothing is wrong. I’m acting as if nothing is wrong. Perhaps we can convince ourselves we did nothing wrong…

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goldcaught  asked:

kc + - you’ve been grinding on all my friends but not on me it’s been four hours I’m drunk my ego is hurt I want an explanation

Her ego was healthy.  Ask anyone that knew her, and they would tell you that.  It wasn’t too over-inflated or anything, but it was definitely healthy.

               And as far as Caroline was concerned, there was nothing wrong with that.

               And really, it wasn’t like she needed some guy to dance with her to know she was attractive.  She already knew that.  She was tall, blonde, and pretty much the textbook vision of modern day attractiveness.  

               And even if Klaus did have cute dimples and an accent that might, on rare occasions, make her contemplate doing naughty, naughty thinks to him with her mouth… well, that didn’t mean she needed his appreciation to feel good about herself.  She wasn’t insecure seventeen year old Caroline anymore.  She was twenty-one, a future graduate student, and knew her own worth.

               “You’re staring at him, Gorgeous.”

               She turned her gaze away from the dance floor, where Klaus was dancing with the Petrova twins, and really?  They remembered they had boyfriends, right?  Because they were letting him get way too handsy.  Instead, her gaze landed on Enzo, who had been her best friend since they met in first year Stats class, and he surveyed her closely.  Whatever he saw in her face made him decide to slide his drink to her, one of the fruity concoctions everyone mocked him for loving.  But his ego was even healthier than Caroline’s, and he’d never let a few jokes at his expense make him change his tastes.

               “His hands are safely on their waists, and no, you didn’t say it out loud, I just know you that well.”

               “Yeah, well…” she glared at Klaus once more as he twirled Katherine.  “She’s dating his brother.”

               “I thought you didn’t like Klaus Mikaelson. Something about him being a prat?”

               “A giant dick, actually – I’m not British, so don’t put your British slang in my mouth – and I don’t like him.  I don’t.”

               She practically inhaled the drink, hardly even taking the time to appreciate exactly how much like skittles the drink managed to taste while probably being approximately half alcohol.

               “Because you’re my best friend, I’ll ignore the golden opportunity for penis jokes that you just offered me in favor of telling you that trying to glare a hole in the man’s head is not the action of a woman that doesn’t care.”

               Caroline knew that, of course.  She really didn’t need Enzo pointing it out.  And if she had left an hour ago, this wouldn’t be an issue.  But now she was drunk and…

               Klaus had spent the past three months trying to convince her to go out with him, and now he was making cow eyes at the Petrovas of all people, and she wanted to know why, dammit!

               “Gorgeous, I know that look… are you sure you wanna do this?”

               Another time, Enzo’s words might have made her hesitate.  It was no secret that he was her biggest enabler; while others said Caroline, no, he was firmly in the Caroline, yes camp, and so over the years, she had learned that doing the opposite of what he told her would probably be a much more effective way of staying out of jail.

               But it wasn’t another time, and she was a little drunk, and Amara Petrova was totally pressing her boobs into him, and that just wasn’t a thing that was going to keep happening!

               It was Katherine that saw her coming first, and with widened eyes, she grabbed her twin and all but pulled her off the dance floor, completely ignoring Amara’s complaints.  Klaus turned to look at her, not looking at all surprised to see her, which made her grit her teeth.

               “Hello, Love.  Care to dance?”

               “The day I play replacement to Amara Petrova is the day hell freezes over,” Caroline replied coolly, although the effect was ruined somewhat when someone knocked into her, making her stumble forward into his arms.  Klaus caught her easily, and Caroline felt goose bumps rise where their skin came in contact.

               She had always reacted to him like that; it was one of the reasons she avoided contact with him.

               “A dance floor is no place to stand still, Caroline,” Klaus murmured into her ear, his breath warm on her skin, and he began to move to the music.  She found her own body moving as well, keeping time with his and the steady beat, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

               “Maybe I should go get Amara back out here for you,” she muttered in return, because she needed to be at least a little difficult, when she found her arms rising to tangle behind his neck.

               “Jealous, Love?” he returned, his fingers drifting to the skin revealed between her tank top and jeans.  She caught her breath at the contact, and when Klaus smirked at the sound, she tangled one of her hands in his hair and tugged, making his eyes darken.

               “I’m not the jealous type.  I will admit to confusions, though.  You’re not exactly subtle about your… preferences.”

               Their eyes caught for a moment, and Caroline felt heat flare between them, before she was twirled around and pushed against the wall that surrounded the dance floor, his lips sealing over hers.  Their bodies still moved against each other, but it was no longer to the beat of the music.  Instead, it was to the sound of their own racing hearts.

               “I’ve always stated my preferences very clearly,” Klaus agreed in a murmur against her lips.  “Although I must admit, I never really thought this would work.”

               “What would wor…” she trailed off mid- word, and her head shot toward Enzo.  But the cocky bastard wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

               “You got Enzo on your side,” she let out a hissing breath.  “How? Enzo never likes the guys that show interest in me… and Rebekah.  It was freaking Rebekah.”

               “Are you really going to let this ruin our evening, Caroline?  When we were finally getting along so well.”

               At first, she pressed her hands to his chest, planning on saying yes, that she was going to let it ruin her evening.  Only he was smirking down at her, like he expected just that, and if Caroline hated anything it was being predictable.

               So she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him in for a kiss, and decided that she could always kill Enzo tomorrow.

               For tonight, she would imprint herself on Klaus’ body until the thought of using a Petrova to even make her jealous was outside the realm of possibility.

Want to take part in drunken shenanigans?  Send me a ship an an AU scenario or song.

goldenreel  asked:

Clubbing prompt for McKirk: you’ve been grinding on all my friends but not on me it’s been four hours I’m drunk my ego is hurt I want an explanation

Holy cow, I am so sorry this has taken me so long, darlin’. Hope it’s worth the wait…

This was definitely a turn-up for the books.

Usually when Jim went to a club, he didn’t lack for partners. He danced with anyone and everyone who wanted to dance with him. Usually he ended up going home with someone, or at the very least ducking into a bathroom or the alley behind the club. He looked good and he knew he did, plus he was a good dancer, exuded charisma, and apparently sent out pheromones like a tree in springtime; he’d had more than one person tell him that they were drawn to him because they could see that he was “DTF.”

Actually, that wasn’t something he deliberately set out to convey. It was just that he wanted, needed, craved physical contact, and sex was the inevitable conclusion of that. The fact that most of his partners never gave him more than a first name—some didn’t even give him that—and then just walked away when they were done hurt him more deeply than he admitted even to himself. But it was something, anyway, some sort of connection, however fleeting, so he clung to it. It was something he never tried explaining to his friends. He just rolled with it, dancing with everyone and having sex randomly and pretending it made him happy.

But tonight…tonight was different.

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