obviously sober

anonymous asked:

everyone is talking about how supportive and soft misha was but he was literally dying like 10 yrs are gone from his life??? and he was just encouraging nesnej sometimes like "that's FUCKING crazy" when told jensen gets on the plane with his right foot first like. lmfao i hope misha also takes a nap after this he dug himself a grave

OH MY GOD his “that’s fucking crazy” was so funny because he’s obviously the sober friend trying to validate his drunk friend even though he’s heard this story 12 million times he was being so patient and good with jensen i cannot believe it

An Unforeseen Delight

Title: An Unforeseen Delight
Summary: Sherlock’s desire and plan to see your glorious assets on display takes an unlikely turn of events
Author: Maddy (@laterthantherabbit)
Words: 2600
Characters/Relationships: Sherlock x reader, John x sister!reader
Warnings: None I think. Partial nudity?

Request: Heyy, what about a Sherlock x Reader in which the reader is John’s sister and she ist visiting the Bakerstreet Boys for the first time? She arrives in a pair of mom fitting/skinny jeans that accentuate her god damn beautiful ass and Sherlock likes seeing her in them. He just steals all the other ones she brought with her and hides them so she is forced to wear the ass accentuating ones for the whole weak.
- @sherlockourhero

Author’s Notes: I finally did it, I got a request out! There will be another one tomorrow and then there are a few more to do over the next week. If you want please send in more requests we’ll be happy to write them! Thanks for your patience lovlies! I absolutely loved this request!! It was super fun to write and I loved writing every word of it. Thanks so much for this awesome idea @sherlockourhero, it was amazing!

——————————————

When John had said that his sister was coming out to Baker Street for a week’s visit, Sherlock had thought nothing of it. Harry must obviously be sobered up otherwise she wouldn’t be coming and John must have been trying to help her along as she makes it through the next week before moving back with Clara, obviously. Not obvious however, was the possibility of a third Watson and that it was in fact John’s second, and youngest sister coming to stay. When you climbed out of the cab in front of 221B late one afternoon, Sherlock had frozen whereas John had ran up to you with the biggest smile Sherlock had seen on his face ever, his arms outstretched for you to step into and be engulfed in a strong bear hug. You were obviously his favourite of the two sisters he had, or the two Sherlock knew about at least, and you were stunning. The afternoon sun shone through your hair, turning its natural hue into a golden sheen and your skin became soft in the light. Your slightly reddened cheeks brought out the iridescent colour of your eyes and your full lips had been curved into the most beautiful smile Sherlock had ever seen. So enraptured by your beauty he was, he didn’t realise John had let you go until you had turned to him, your hand extended ready for him to shake.

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Association to Get Georg Zirschnitz his First Kiss (and Help Out Melchior Along the Way)

if you’re taking requests (((I always am btw))) well i found these two prompts for melchior and moritz (modern au): I suggested we play spin the bottle so i could kiss you, but now everyone else is kissing you except me - or - I meant to grab the popcorn, not your crotch, sorry

C u T E F I C. I wrote a fic like this for another fandom i was in a while ago but that never saw the light of day so here we go! Based off of my first shitty house party

Warning: Alcohol, smoking

Words:1754

The “Association to Get Georg Zirschnitz his First Kiss” began at the beginning of the year, when he got into Melitta’s car after the big homecoming game and refused to even make eye contact the whole way home.

It wasn’t that there was any lack of trying. Georg wanted that kiss more than he wanted most basic human needs. It was the lack of any skill when it came to getting that kiss.

And thus,  the Association to Get Georg Zirschnitz his First Kiss, or the A.G.G.Z.H.F.K., was formed. And with the glorious co-leadership of Melchior and Hanschen, they were still unsuccessful in their original mission seven months later.

With summer coming up, the group could practically taste senior year.  And taste the bitter bitter flavor of panic.

“Don’t you worry, cohort,” Hanschen assured the group chat that was similar to their other group chat except without Georg. “Wendla’s sister is having a party this weekend. It will happen then. Our boy’s getting his kiss before senior year.”

That weekend came, of course, and Georg still had no clue what the A.G.G.Z.H.F.K.’s plan was. But neither did the A.G.G.Z.H.F.K.

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Proud of me, are ya?
  • Day 6 - Write a scene, the way you wished it had gone.

So this is my contribution for Robert week! Its really more an extension of a scene i wanted to see (I hope that’s okay!) but anyway, enjoy!


He stumbled as he reached the gate, grabbing hold of the iron bars to steady himself. The half empty bottle in his hand felt heavy as he looked out over the graveyard, his gaze catching on the pale grey slabs he knew too well at the other side, his not-so-intended destination.

We’ll get this sorted, he’d said. It won’t be broken for long.

Vic had looked so heart-broken, dumbfounded at how someone could do this. Robert had hugged her and comforted her, did all the right big brother things. And then he’d went home and started drinking. Well, not home. He didn’t really have one of those anymore. But what he did have was a bottle of whiskey and some pretty fucked up emotional baggage.

He didn’t remember deciding to leave the house, yet here he was, pushing the gate open and making his way across the graveyard, albeit haphazardly.

He’d come with Vic and Diane, earlier that day, came to see the damage. The top corner was all but gone, with the ‘J’ barely recognisable. For some reason, standing there reading ‘ack Sugden’ on the stone, he’d nearly felt a laugh bubble out of him. It was ridiculous. The great Jack Sugden. The last testament to his life, his gravestone. And it read flipping ‘ack’. But he’d stifled it for Vic’s sake, and Diane’s. Now, looming over that broken piece of stone, he couldn’t remember why it had seemed so funny.

“Proud of me, are ya?” he choked out, his fingers tracing the rough edges. He felt the back of his eyes sting, but he pushed it away with another swig from the bottle. “Even when I was myself, ignored everything you wanted me to be…” the words came tumbling out of his mouth, like bile that had sat at the back of his throat for too long. He felt raw and vulnerable, everything he had spent so long pushing down and building walls around; it felt like the bullet had torn through those as well, and they were crumbling.

“I had everything!” He was yelling now, his words slurred and ringing across the graveyard. “And it was nothing you would’ve wanted for me.” The tears came unbidden, running down his face and watering the ground beneath him. He fell to his knees, still grasping the bottle tightly in his hands, as deep, raking sobs ran through his chest. “And I still messed it up.”

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Bare Your Teeth and Dig Your Grave

What is this? I have no idea. Character study? Inferences? Headcanons? Who knows my friends.

Any way time to thank @liketolaugh-dgm and her friends @nea-writes @lpwrites @allxnwalkxr for giving me points on characterization in an ask because they’re way better than meeeee

Summary: The General has a lot of information that no one knows. The most important piece, he thinks, is the fact that Allen Walker has always been a pretty creepy child.

Part 1/??? will maybe be a stand alone if people think it sucks??

Characters: Cross, Allen Walker, Lvellie, mentions of Link

Warnings: Cussing, slight mental breakdowns, very very vague illusions (?) to blood and very nasty eating habits

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Don’t You Dare

Character: Jimin x OC
Genre: Angst
Number of words: 1390 words
Summary: You’ve finally gathered enough courage to stop Park Jimin.
Warning: Abusing. Not that bad but I warned you.

Originally posted by ashtonxbts

“Don’t you dare,” you hissed angrily as the softness in Jimin’s eyes a while ago disappeared and now filled with pure and raw anger. He glared back at you with equal intensity as you were. “Don’t you fucking dare, Park Jimin.”

Jimin slurred despite trying to sound sober. “Ohhh, the great Y/N” hiccup “is challenging me.” he giggled but as soon as his smile disappeared and replaced by a twisted smirk, your blood ran cold and tears pricked at your eyes. This was the second warning.

“Oh, I dare.”


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  • Nina: Who of the four of you has slept with who of the four of you?
  • Maura: Its like a dirty math problem.
  • Frankie: The answer would be none of us.
  • Nina: None of you have gotten drunk and stupid over the years?
  • Jane: Well, that's really a different question.
Drunken Actions

I didn’t make him 40 years old, because I was a little uncomfortable writing that but I hope I did ok :)))

Words: 1,647

Pairing: Joker x Reader

Warning: Smut at the end

“You called?” I enter the booth Mister J is sitting in, trying to sound un-amused.

“Ah, yes.” Mister J replies, sounding almost relieved. I sit across him, silent, waiting for him to continue. He continues to stare back at me as if he’s trying to mock me.

“So?” I pause, “Who do you want me to kill?” I assume, being his best hit man.

Mister J tries acting offended, “What if I just wanted to chit-chat with you, doll face?”

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That's My Best Friend//N.M

I’m now sitting in my best friends room in nothing but my underwear and bra. I have no memory of what happened. All I know is that Nate is laying next to me and Nate isn’t Johnson so I’m in a hell of a lot trouble. This is all I remember.
“Aye, turn up!“ I scream. “Aye.” They repeat back. Rupp couldn’t be at the party so I’m on Dj duty. “Aye G.” I yell. “Huh?” He says, walking over to me. “Can you go check on my best friend for me?” I ask while batting my eyelashes.“ Man I don’t know, I’m kind of in the middle of something.” He says, smiling at a pretty blonde standing at the top of the stairs. Waiting for Jack I’m guessing. “Ohh you’re cheating on your precious Madison.” I say while grabbing my chest. “Oh shit I forgot….She’ll never know.” He says while smiling at me. “You have my word if you go check on Nate for me. I can’t leave here.” I beg. “Fine.” He says while walking off. “Take my boyfriend with you, he is more dependable.” I say. G rolls his eyes and tells Jack J as they both walk to the kitchen. They burst out laughing and pointing. I look at them while throwing my hands up. G rushes over to me. “Come look at your best friend.” He smirks. “Ugh.” I groan while being dragged to the kitchen. As soon as we turn the corner I see Nate with some girl. “Oh lord.” I say while running my hands through my hair. “I’m going in.” I say. The Jacks just laugh. “Hey Nate.” I say while putting my arm on his shoulder. “Hey Y/N.” He says. “And who are you?” The random girl asks me. “Who are you?” I ask back. “I’m Jordan….now as you can see, we were in the middle of something so bye.” She says, fanning me off. I look around then at Nate. “I don’t give a fuck. I’m his best friend, I have to make sure he doesn’t fuck up his life and he obviously isn’t sober because he wouldn’t be talking to your ugly ass.” I say while flipping my hair. Nate chuckles. “Whatever. Like I said, walk away hoe.” She says and pushes me. I just laugh. The Jacks rush over to me. I put my drink down on the counter, getting ready to hit her. “Aye, we good over here?” Jack asks while grabbing my hand. “Yeah, except this dumb ass bitch won’t leave me and my baby alone.” She says while grabbing Nate’s arm. Nate kind of sobers up when he hears the word baby. “Walk away Jack.” I say. “No.” He groans. “Jack.” I glare and they both walk away in a hurry. “Nate you better get your girl, she’s about to get her ass beat.” I say. She chuckles and grabs Nate’s arm again but he takes his arm back. “Come on Y/N, let’s leave before we get into some trouble.” He says while grabbing my hand. “You’re not good enough for my best friend to even think about fucking you.” I smirk. “Nate call me.” she winks at him. “He won’t.” I say and she slaps me. I just remember blacking out and then I came back and saw her on the floor and then my vision left again. The last thing I remember is holding on to Nate’s body while crying.
“Morning best friend.” Nate says while turning over. “Hey. What happened last night?” I ask. “What do you mean?” He laughs. “Well…” I say while gesturing to our bodies. “Oh nothing. When you blacked out you kind of went crazy and you had blood on you so I just took your clothes off. Jack was also blackout drunk so I brought you up here. "Whew.” I say while exhaling. We both laugh. “Sorry for not letting you ever get any pussy, like never.” I giggle. “It’s cool, I’m sure one day you’ll be there when I find Mrs. Maloley.” He smiles. “Pinky promise?” I giggle. “Pinky promise.” He says while linking our pinkies. I pull out my phone and start to snapchat. “Morning, just laying in bed with Nate. No I didn’t cheat on Johnson, I just drank too much and I blacked out.” I smile.“ Nahh, she beat the shit out of a girl.” Nate laughs. “Shh.” I say. “How about we go look out your window and see who had to take the walk of shame?” I smirk. “That’s why you’re my best friend.” He says while getting out of bed and looking through the window. “We have one short blonde hair, black skirt and red crop top.” He says. “Oh, Gilinsky fucked her.” I laugh. “Hoe.” He smirks. “Aye, put some respeck on her name.” I yell.

I Missed You More

Songfic for Sometime Around Midnight by The Airborne Toxic Event

Summary: After months of moping, your friend convinces you to go out and let your hair down.
Words: 1,222
Dean x Reader
Warnings: Excessive alcohol consumption

Your name: submit What is this?

“We’re going out tonight,” your friend told you when you picked him up from work.

“Do I have a choice?” you asked, sighing as you signalled out of the parking lot.

“No,” he grinned.

You groaned in frustration, “Ben. I don’t want to.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he pleaded, “It’ll be really fun. There’s a band at the bar, and it’s gonna be awesome.”

“If I say no, you’ll make me go anyway, right?”

“Yep.”

You laughed a little, “We’re going to have to have a chat about consent sometime soon.”

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Don’t Need My Last Cigarette (Trixya) - Luci

an: I’m terrible and I missed Trixya, so have a ‘not very christmassy-still very fluffy’ tour bus oneshot :) I’m submitting another one since I have important exams next week and probably won’t get much writing done <3

summary: Katya quits smoking for Trixie, and the others help her deal with it.

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What's Life Without a Few Dragons

So, I didn’t want to write a part two to Vodka Cannot Kill a Dragon but I did because I’m out of control. Someone needs to stop me. Seriously.

I blame people from Twitter again because I’m an adult and that means I can run away from my responsibilities if I want to.

Also available on Ao3.


“It’s your bachelor party and I’m your best man,” Jace had said. “You owe me to get drunk.”

Alec is pretty sure he’s heard those words before, or something close enough.

He also knows that two things came out of it. One, he got engaged to Magnus, which is a good thing. Two, he experienced the most embarrassing week, maybe month, of his life after that, which was a very, very bad thing. Simon, the living (or dead – or undead, damn this vampire business can be so confusing) proof that vampires cannot be trusted, had recorded him blathering about Magnus’ skills with his mouth (among other things) and forwarded it to all of their friends. For a while after Jace and Clary’s wedding, he had had to deal with knowing smirks and snickers behind his back every time he walked through the Institute. He is not going to make the same mistake again.

Except he already has because before he can register what happened, he’s hammered again.

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@mcrtimersmith

“Alright Mortimer, we got– urrrp– we got a real full day ahead of us here, got a lot to get done. This– this sort of project, it’d work better with more people b-b-but we can’t risk anyone knowing this is here, so it’s just gonna have to be the two of us while Merty runs diversion. Not even bringing Morty over here, he– he’s too honest Mortimer, don’t tell him anything.” 

Rick was sober, but obviously excited to put his plans into motion. He’d prepared for days for this, hoarding away materials and tools for the perfect opportunity when they could have the Citadel’s main offices closed to the public to do the construction.

Thank god for Canadian Thanksgiving. Gave Ricks an excuse to drink eggnog and everyone an excuse to get sleepy on turkey a whole month early. 

“Come over here Mortimer, we gotta– we gotta get you suited up here.” 

dmlynx  asked:

I got you

The little skink had all but galloped down the stairs in a drunken fit, warbling and trilling gleefully until her feet tangled and sent her flying. A firm hand snatched the back of her shirt and yanked back, hauling her against the burly Seeker and into safety. She blinked slowly, pausing the sounds that bounced in her chest as she staaaaaared at the stairs before tilting her head back and looking at Myra upside down with a lopsided grin.

“I was trying to flyyyyy!”

She mock-whined, tail trying to wag despite being pinned against the catte’s leg and giggled.

“Then again, that never seems to work, so maaaybe I should say thank you. Yes. Next round’s on me then!”

Because, y’know, buying drinks for someone who owns a bar is a great gesture. Obviously appreciated. Let her sober up and she’d offer enough food to last a moon.

peachypunk22  asked:

It turns out just to be their friend Sarah, stumbling in from the other room, but Spencer stays where he is. Brendon peeks out from behind his shoulder "Oh my god, I am fucking /craving/ chips, right now" She tells them, grabbing the whole bowl of potato chips before turning towards them. She looks at them for a few seconds before she laughs bright and loud. "Oh my god, you guys are so cute. Those costumes are adorable!"

Brendon grins. “We’re babies,” he says, a little tentatively. “I know! And you’re so fucking cute!” Sarah gushes, and Spencer can’t help but feel a little more relaxed at how not sober Sarah obviously is and how alright Brendon seems to be doing. 

feelavalanche  asked:

Prompt! Stiles and Derek in Vegas.

“It seems very unlikely to me,” Stiles tries to say over the din. “That you are going to be able to werewolf effectively in this mess.”

“Huh?" 

"I said–” Stiles starts, and stops again. Derek should be able to hear him. Derek can always hear him. It’s irritating, that he catches every mumbled aside and errant heartbeat and twitching half-considered movement. Stiles has a lot of private mumbled asides that are best unshared with the world at large. And right now, Derek has glitter in his eyebrows and a dopey smile on his dumb, handsome face. “What did you drink?”

“What do I think? I don’t know, man! This music is so loud!” Derek throws up an illustrative arm and smacks some poor guy in the face. The guy appears too overwhelmed by Derek’s muscles to take any kind of real offense. 

“Oh my god.” The crowd drifts and sways like a singular mass, a snake swallowing them whole. Stiles is pressed up against Derek without meaning to be but it’s better, obviously, not to be losing him in the fray. “Jesus Christ, Derek.”

“Jesus Christ,” Derek agrees happily. He sways his hips to the beat. Stiles’ hips go along for the ride, which is like– dancing, which is just impossible, Derek’s shining eyes and sparkling brows, his arm wrapping loosely over Stiles’ shoulders, down his back, one warm palm curving against the bend of his ribs. “Someone bought me a drink,” he confides. His breath is hot against Stiles’ neck, mouth too mobile, too near. “Said I needed to relax.”

“You do,” Stiles agrees. He tries to find a shelter for them– a wall, a table, but it’s just seething bodies as far as the eye can see. They passed a bathroom on the way in, but it’s probably the better part of wisdom to get Derek the fuck out, at this point. Either they’ve been made and the incubus-trafficking ring they’ve been investigating is about to disappear from underneath them again, or Derek’s just gone and attracted his usual villain-grade admirers. Either way. “Let’s relax in the room, then, maybe?”

“Oh, yeah,” Derek says. He rests his forehead against Stiles’ shoulder and he thinks that the brush of his mouth must be unintentional, just Derek not keeping track of his limbs, drunk and drugged, until he hears what Derek is mumbling, now, which is “fuck, okay, if you want– I didn’t think you wanted– fuck Stiles, take me home.”