party shuffle

the signs as suburban haunts

ARIES: flattened paper boats scattered like the remains of a murdered animal along a dried up river, rundown motels with their blasted neon signs and smashed-in windows, pink streamers from some neighborhood child’s birthday party shuffling across the street like bright tumbleweed, a train rattling off into the breathless night & the trace remnants of a week old bonfire found in the middle of nowhere. 

TAURUS: chipped paint, shattered shot glasses lying across an abandoned pool table missing a few billiard balls, flyers rustling like autumn leaves against the tempestuous tides of the wind, advertising concerts & magic shows that took place in 2005, the sillage of old perfume clogging up the air, still thick as the scent of blood or wildflowers.

GEMINI: the corpse of a cigarette that hasn’t touched a mouth in months, a dilapidated playground where lost souls come out to play, threadbare curtains ripped like the wings of a dissected bird, strange red-brown stains across the hotel bedsheets, a gate grown weary with new-forming foliage & age, whining erroneously whenever maneuvered. 

CANCER: an empty casket, coffee rim imprints across hardwood tables, an old, tattered shoe lying haphazardly on the side of the road, a junkyard littered with ancient cars still soggy with stories, a pick-up with a broken windshield, a cadillac with a massacred paint job, someone’s motorcycle with blood staining the front tire, an askew portrait with eyes that follow you around the room.

LEO: a carnival horse with one eye scratched out, a daycare centre that shut down years ago, plagued with the colorful ghosts of children’s drawings still tacked to the crumbling walls, a spiral staircase that seems to shift direction when nobody’s paying attention, crunched up beer cans rolling across an empty rooftop & lichen kissing the concrete. 

VIRGO: the supermarket, flickering & eerie at night like the shadows unearthed beneath troubled eyes, owls stirring in between the murmuring trees, a single upturned grave in a cemetery that isn’t supposed to be notorious for hauntings, an old fountain still glistening with pennies that are no longer considered currency, a collapsed bottle of wine running the tiles red.

LIBRA: handprints imprinted onto fogged-up windows, red rooms crowded with developing photographs of people whose faces you recognize but cannot quite place, broken doll heads, a necklace that erupted into a sea of pearls, a deflated blow up kiddie pool collecting parched grass and critters, a busted arcade game & the laughter of people long gone still trapped inside the walls.

SCORPIO: books with grimacing yellow pages, someone attempting to sell you a cursed object on etsy, a leaky shower-head, a clock that’s stuck in time, a torn, unravelled couch sitting deserted in someone’s front lawn, candy stores that proclaim sales on expired sweets & ruddy patches of farmland. 

SAGITTARIUS: basements stacked with unwanted toys, a box of thin-mints, footsteps reverberating around the house when it’s 2 AM and you’re home alone, a burned down lemonade stand, that weird alien light in the third window of your neighbor’s house that never seems to get turned off, a certain rattling coming from the kitchen.

CAPRICORN: rain pummeling against damp ceilings, clothes ripped off the washing line, an empty aquarium, obscure little thrift stores that sell leather jackets from the eighties, gas station lights flirting with you from the distance, the alley where they say the vagabonds roam their night countries, sniffing up and dressing down and slitting the throats of angels.

AQUARIUS: those tiny coffee shops that fill you with nostalgia for places you’ll never visit, ‘JESUS LOVES YOU’ spray-painted across the sides of ramshackle buildings, an antique almirah scratched to high hell, a monster in the closet, the tunnel beneath the bridge that half the town believes is a gateway to hell, smoking up in trip mall parking lots. 

PISCES: halloween decor presented in shop windows a couple months early, visiting that lake where you heard that one kid drowned, the garage door slamming without cause or notice, storing fireflies in jars, drugstore makeup, birthday cake flavored oreos, a wheeled desk chair that seems to turn on its own when nobody’s in the office, a candle snuffed out on a windless evening.

Well, I mean, it IS the law

So let me set the scene. The dungeon the party was in was ruined to the point where the stone brick walls were starting to “melt”. The party of four had just reached a door when the elderly undead Warlock of the group holds up his hand to halt everyone. He points his scythe at the door and says “We need to watch our step, ‘cause whatevers behind this door is pulsin’ out magic somethin’ fierce”. The Rogue, in his drunken stupor, unlocked the door in an instant and the darkened corridor filled with the scent of blood and iron. As the party is shuffling silently into the room, the young Druid of the group pointed towards the center of the room where she could make out a dim glow that lay close to the ground. The Ranger began to panic a little, as she was a close combat fighter and recognized the glow. A full suit of Heavy Enchanted Armour sat in it’s eerie glow. The scene then played out a little something like this

Ranger: ooooOOOHHH, nopenopenope. I can’t deal with that, dude. Hooo, nope

Rogue: Ah, don’t'cha worry, ye wee lass. That thing there couldn’t hear a boulder- *uninteligable slurs as Skype gives out at the perfect time*

Rogue OOC: I’m gonna fuckin’ sneak past this bitch

DM: *withholds a loud snort* Bruh, do it you won’t

Rogue: *rolls an 18 and begins to sneak towards a door down the way*

The Armor: *Jolts up at full attention, bellowing* STOP, IN THE NAME OF THE LAW, CRIMINAL! *Charges at full speed towards him*

Rogue: WHAT’S THE CRIME? *In a drunken rage*

The Armor: * freezing in place, having never been asked this before* I-… UHM… THE CRIME IS LIVING, AND THE PUNISHMENT IS DEATH!!!

Warlock: *raising his hand* S'cuse me, sir, but I’m not alive, may I pass?

The Armor: …..PROCEED?

Opposites Attract {Reader Insert}

Imagine: Flower crowns and pastels are her thing, and both Archie Andrews and Jughead Jones fully accept her for that. Who would have thought that the elder Jones man would feel the same, and much more.

Summary: {Y/N} is ecstatic to be reunited with her two best pals, but it seems alcohol is not her favourite. Getting away from the stink of beer, and the heat of dancing teens, she escapes to the garage. When confronted by her best friend’s father, she discovers a long-kept secret that he’s dying to act upon.

Request?: Yes! A nonny wanted a fic that had the clash of polar opposites between the reader and FP. I do hope I’ve done your request justice.

Warnings: F/M Smut, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids), Reader is about 18 (so things are kinda okay, right?)

Word Count: 3236

Taglist: @theserpentgod 

Disclaimer: I do not own the gif, credit to the user that made it. The Riverdale characters are not mine, credits to the writers and producers of the franchise. If smut is not your thing, do not read this.

A/N: The idea of flower child!reader being best friends with Archie and Jughead is so cute to me, and the fluff between them all was fun to write. I hope I did FP justice in his ‘bad boy’ perspective. Enjoy, my little bookworms 🖤

Originally posted by riverdales-daily

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Dissection

Originally posted by veronica-vixen

Summary: Your twin made you break up with the girl of your dreams, but Cheryl won’t let you slip so easy.

A/N: oooh, angry Cheryl coming in clutch. Thank you, anon!

Pairing: Cheryl x reader

Warings: Salt, a few swears, anger fluff


The bell rang as Archie and you barreled through the doors of RIverdale High. You were the cause of the tardiness, well, at least Archie thought so. Instead, you spent the whole night crying over Cheryl. Not because she called your hair color ‘so last season’, when it was indeed natural, or because she threw your books down. But because you two dated for months, only to have Archie trash it all. His reason:

“I’m protecting you.”

My ass. She hadn’t hurt me at all during our time together. Yet, he ripped us apart like velcro and left us torn. You stumbled to your locker, fumbling with the combination and looking down the hallway at Cheryl, who was looking back at you. From the distance she looked fine, but you knew she was hurting the same as you.

After a few seconds of eye talk, Archie noticed and grabbed your hand, which was still spinning the lock. Your eyes snapped up to him and he was glaring at you, pulling in your combination, grabbing your books and slamming your locker shut. He forcefully gave you your books and turned you around, escorting you to English. 


Archie walked into third period biology, remembering he had a dissection today, and internally groaning. When he sat down at the usual spot, he noticed Jughead’s spot was empty. And so was the one in front of him, who happened to be Cheryl’s partner. The teacher walked into the class, Cheryl following behind, coming in late and sat down. As the teacher explained the lab, he looked over at the empty seats and pointed.

“Archie, you’re working with Cheryl.”

With a groan from both parties, he shuffled around and sat down next to her. The teacher passed out instructional sheets and then it began. A heavy silence filled between the two as they put on the rubber gloves. Archie stared down at the frog, getting squeamish and looked at Cheryl.

“Hey, I’m sorry for what I did. But, you were gonna hurt (Y/N) at one point in the relationship. It had to happen. I’m glad it was me rather you who broke it up. Are you okay? Do you understand what I’m-”

Cheryl grabbed the scalpel and looked forward. Her jaw clenched and her eyes squinted.

“I’m amazing.”

She cut the frog’s chest open without looking, and Archie knew he did something wrong.


Archie was sitting inside his car, waiting for you to walk out. He looked across the school yard to look at all the students running to cars, and shuffling to their bus. He saw Cheryl walking to her car, followed by her Vixen Minions and he overheard their conversation.

“Maybe Archie was right about breaking you two up. I mean, you’re a Blossom, and you dated an And-”

Cheryl whipped around to her clone and got in her face.

“Do not talk about (Y/N) like that. Despite Archie’s idiotic reasoning, I will fight for (Y/N), regardless of relationship status.”

As she stepped away, the other Vixen spoke up.

“Were you in love, Cheryl?”

She sighed and opened up her car door. She muttered something so quiet, Archie almost missed it.

“I still am.”

Cheryl drove off and out of the school, leaving Archie to his thoughts.


When you got into his car, Archie hesitated on starting it. And you took a mental vow of silence because he was an asshole. He started up the car, and drove out of the school. You were too consumed in your thoughts to notice he took the wrong turn, and drove down all the wrong streets.

The car jerked forwards and came to a stop. You blinked awake and looked at the house mansion in front of you. Then you whipped to look at Archie.

“I’m sorry I broke you two up. This is her house. Go to her.”

Archie gave you a sorrowful look and you just sat there. After seconds of thinking, you gave Archie a light a quick hug, then ran out of the car. Sprinting up the lawn, you knocked furiously on the door.

Cheryl opened the door, her makeup running down her face from crying. She sniffled, then tried to speak. But you cut her off by taking her face and kissing her, hard and passionately.

After a minute, you pulled away and gave her a tight hug. You both sobbed into each other’s arms. And Archie knew he made the right decision. 

Party (Ethan)

⚤ - CONTAINS SMUT

It was Cameron’s 19th birthday and the beach house was booming with chaos as everyone rushed around setting up party decorations and various appetizers and desserts. You had been up since 6 A.M. ensuring everything was going according to your plan and that your clumsy boyfriend, Ethan, wasn’t going to ruin the surprise like he usually did.

“You know your position right?” You turned to Ethan as you stood in the kitchen, co-ordinating where everyone would be when Cameron walked in. Grayson had taken her out shopping for the day and she had no idea you had a surprise planned for her. She thought it was just going to be an ordinary vacation not realizing you had invited all of her closest friends to join you — even the cute guy she had been crushing on for the past year. Cameron was your best friend. You’d do anything for her and honestly you had her to thank for introducing you to your goofy, dorky boyfriend. It was weird at first, dating your best friends brother, but you had become a member of the family and Cameron was happy to see her little brother with someone she already adored. You were a match made in heaven, she couldn’t deny that.

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The Signs As Suburban Haunts

ARIES: flattened paper boats scattered like the remains of a murdered animal along a dried up river, rundown motels with their blasted neon signs and smashed-in windows, pink streamers from some neighborhood child’s birthday party shuffling across the street like bright tumbleweed, a train rattling off into the breathless night & the trace remnants of a week old bonfire found in the middle of nowhere.

TAURUS: chipped paint, shattered shot glasses lying across an abandoned pool table missing a few billiard balls, flyers rustling like autumn leaves against the tempestuous tides of the wind, advertising concerts & magic shows that took place in 2005, the sillage of old perfume clogging up the air, still thick as the scent of blood or wildflowers.

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Reggie Mantle x Reader: Finding a Date.

A/N: Warning, this fic is garbage. Read with caution bc I swear I need help. *Reader is best friends with Cheryl Blossom and good friends with Ethel Muggs… and literally everyone. You’re a fan of Overwatch and a low-key cosplayer, bruh. (I’m sorry, it’s a Halloween party might as well) ((Using she/her pronouns mostly bc I suck at writing, I just wanted to give Reggie more love and I failed)) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N, you’re going to come to my Halloween party whether you like it or not. I’m not having one of my River Vixens mope and become a homebody.” Mentally screaming, I sighed and joined Cheryl as she stretched before the other girls came for practice. Cheryl Blossom’s been my best friend since we were kids. “Rich Kid Squad”, but I didn’t like hanging out with those other preppy shits. Jason and Cheryl were the only exception… They had my back and I had theirs in ways they never knew they needed. Since her twin brother’s death, I’ve done my best to help her cope. I guess my way of helping her is just being there and… joining the River Vixens.


“I already am, Cheryl, you know already that parties aren’t my kind of thing.” I replied, stretching my arms until I heard a satisfying pop from my elbow. Cheryl visibly cringed at the sound and continued to scold me like I was her child.


“Oh, please Y/N. You’re going and it’s final.”
She snapped at me and led me to the bleachers and sat down, patting the spot next to her.

“If you insist.” I sighed dejectedly. ‘My loot boxes will have to wait then… Daddy will have to wait,’ I thought to myself and tried to think of better days to lock myself in my room and level up on Overwatch with Reaper as my main.


“I know you’re thinking about your video games again, so I’ll make you a deal,” I stopped moping and stared at her, beckoning her to continue her sudden proposal because knowing Cheryl there’s always a catch.


“You can bring your video games and set up in the main hall,” I was about to scream. ‘Is she for real? Oh my gosh and she has a good wifi connection, a night without lagging! Huzzah!’


“But!” She interjected my notion. ‘Fuck my life, I knew it was too good to be true.’


“You have to dress up.” I scoffed and stood up straight. “You’re kidding, right? That’s it?”


“Yeah, why?” ‘That’s too easy, cosplaying is easy as pie Miss Cheryl. What’s really going on?’


“Cheryl, I know you. What’s the catch?”


“Okay fine, you have to bring a date and wear matching costumes.”


“Cheryl Blossom, you know I can’t talk to guys! What am I going to do? I’ve never been on a date, why are you doing this? Oh my God… I’m going to throw up.” I held my stomach, butterflies fluttering inside of me at the thought of asking a guy out.


“Y/N, calm down it’s not a big deal-”


“Uh, Cheryl yes. It IS a huuuuge deal! You know I hate talking to guys!”


“But, you talk to so many on that stupid video game chat whatever it is?”


“That’s different, they can’t see me.”


“Y/N. Listen up, you’re going to ask someone to the party and wear matching costumes. I’ll make sure to have the flat screen and your favorite snacks ready for you when you come, okay?”


“Fine… I’ll do it.”


“Good. And you don’t even have to hang out with him the whole night.”


“Well, that defeats the purpose of even having a date, but okay…”, tossing the conversation aside as the girls came into the gym, ready for cheerleading practice and more of Cheryl’s drama.


“Yup. Alright ladies, line up. We have to perfect this routine by tonight and if it’s not, we’ll be staying late so let’s get going.”

_____


“Who do I even ask? I don’t even talk to any guys other than Archie, Kevin and Jughead. Archie’s going with Betty, Veronica asked Kevin and I highly doubt that Jughead would want to go to a party for Halloween, he’ll probably be working on his novel.” I ranted to Ethel Muggs, she’s my study partner for Chemistry and Statistics. Ethel laughed and quickly copied my notes from a day she missed when she was sick. We were in the library and it was just us two and the librarian and she didn’t mind us chatting away, we were her assistants so we were in the clear.


“I don’t know. At least you were invited.” I froze at that thought. ‘Dang it, I should’ve been more considerate. It’s Ethel, why am I so stupid? …Wait.’


“You wanna be my date?!” I blurted out. Her eyes widened and she shook her head no.


“No no no no Y/N, I am good as done. I don’t want to be anywhere near those dumb jocks.”

I sighed and nodded my head in understanding, she’s had it rough the past year and I should’ve known better.


“This is gonna suck so badly. I just wanted to spend the night with Daddy and-” Ethel cut my rant short.


“Daddy? Who’s that?” I froze. Did I really say Daddy out loud? In front of Ethel?


“Um… He’s no one, forget I said anything.” Flustered, I tried changing the subject. I felt the heat creep up my neck. ‘Damn my abilities to blush, it’s not cute!!’


“Y/N, I don’t know. Sounds interesting and kinky, if you ask me. Spill the beans, Y/N/N.” Her grin teasing me whilst she shuffled her papers around into a neat pile.


“Oh my gosh! Okay, he’s a character from this game I’m playing, it’s called Overwatch.”


“Wow… Didn’t expect a rich and preppy cheerleader like you to be the gamer chick type, I’m a bit surprised but not really because I saw those books in your bag. If I’m correct, those are called ‘manga’, right?” I blushed heavily and covered my face.


“I am not preppy! I’m a disgusting nerd. Don’t look at me.” Ethel laughs and starts packing her stuff.


“Well, thanks for the notes and I hope you find someone to take because God forbid you get on Cheryl’s bad side for not bringing a date.” I shook my head lightly as I chuckled, “Yeah, it’s no problem Ethel. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She smiled and walked out of the library, leaving me alone with Mrs. Walker.


“You mind closing up today, Y/N?” She asked and tossed me the keys. I smiled and nodded yes to her.


“Yes, no worries Mrs. Walker. I’ll just study for a few more minutes before I go.”


“Thank you, sweetie. Have a nice day and good luck finding someone for the party.” She shuffled her way out the double doors and left me alone. Me and the books.


I stared down at my neat stack of chem worksheets and statistics notebooks and let out a deep sigh. 'I shouldn’t be stressing over something so small… Wait, did I pack my pepper spray?’


Ever since Jason’s death, my parents insisted that I carry a can of pepper spray. They even went as far as buying five bottles for me, wrapped with the instructions.


A thud broke me from my thoughts and I looked around. 'I'm… the only one in here, right?’


Reaching into my bag, I searched my bag for the small spray can. “Aw dang nabbit.” Opting for a No. 2 pencil, I rose from the desk and made my way towards where the sound came from.


“Hello?” I called out. 'Wow, am I dumb? I’m that stupid dumb bitch that gets killed in every horror movie that goes towards the danger.’


I heard another thud and a small scuffle, I stood behind a bookshelf holding the pencil firmly in my hand against my chest. 'Lord, please help me now.’


The scuffling grew louder and sounded like it was getting closer to me.


“AAAAHHHH!!!” I shouted, swinging my arm everywhich way prepared to stab whatever was there.


“OH SHIT! WAIT, STOP!” A firm grip caught my wrist and in a panic, I clenched my eyes shut and swung my leg at my assailant and kicked them, I don’t even know where.


“Ow… shit, you kick hard.” Realizing whose voice it was, I opened my eyes and yanked my arm away from him. 'Neighbor boy?’

Out of all the guys in Riverdale, I hadn’t thought of HIM to ask. 'It’s not like we talk so?’


“Reginald, what the heck are you doing in here? The library is closed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: this is pretty much trash lmao but im turning it into a two or three-shot idk but yeah… it’s not good so I’M SORRY GUYS 😭
democratLIT

so apparently obama said he would stay in office if trump is elected and can u imagine

Jim: President Obama please

Obama: I made a promise to these citizens, Jim. Join me and Joe

Jim: Sir Mr. Biden isn’t here he’s getting the popcorn

Jane: President Obama the constitution said you can’t run for more than two terms

Obama: Well george washington said he didn’t want any political parties so

Biden, walking in: yO WE ABOUT TO HAVE A POLITICAL PARTY RIGHT NOW

Obama, with glow sticks: Time to get democratLIT

Trump resigns within a week, angry that the White House is in a constant state of raving. Michelle Obama made healthy snacks for everyone. Obama and Biden are currently doing the cupid shuffle in the foyer. They invited Hillary. She ain’t even mad she lost. She’s dabbing in the kitchen. Someone should probably stop her.

mizjoely  asked:

1. for Sherlolly: “The skirt is supposed to be this short.”

I’m not sure about ‘hilarious’ but I’ll give it a shot. thanks for the prompt(s) x


“For God’s sake, Dad. Don’t be such a loser!”

“You’re not going out like that. Whilst you’re living under my roof, you’ll obey my rules.”

“Where did you get that one from? The Ladybird Book of Parenting?”

Molly rolled her eyes, focusing on the medical journal in her hands; her husband and daughter had been arguing about her night out for the past half hour. At fifteen years old, she was keen to spend as much time as possible with her group of friends which, to Sherlock’s concern, consisted of three nineteen-year-old boys; her assurances they were like the brothers she’d never had did nothing to reassure her protective father. Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs and Clara barrelled into the living room, Sherlock hot on her heels.

“Mum, will you tell him the skirt is supposed to be this short?” The teen demanded, gesturing at her outfit. Before Molly could even open her mouth, Sherlock interrupted.

“Molly, will you remind her that she is just fifteen years old?”

“Both of you stop it,” Molly said with a sigh, closing her journal, “Clara, we agreed you could go out but you have to take our concerns seriously. We know what we’re talking about when we say it’s dangerous out there,” Clara folded her arms tightly but offered no argument. Molly turned her gaze to her smug husband and raised an eyebrow, “Sherlock, Rosie’s going with them, isn’t she? She’s older. She’ll look after her. Clara is going out with her friends whether you like it or not.”

“But-“ he had been about to suggest a few dozen of Lestrade’s men accompanying them for protection; one look from Molly, however, told him he should probably keep his mouth shut. Instead, he nodded, “yes, fine. You should…have a good time.”

Clara beamed, throwing her arms around her Dad, “thanks, Dad. I won’t let you down.”

“I know.”

Ten minutes later, Sherlock was surrounded by the complete morons Clara called her friends; genetic experiments gone wrong seemed more appropriate to him. They were all gangly masses of muscles, grunting their way through a conversation – it was a wonder they weren’t crushing empty beer cans against their foreheads and beating their chests. Rosie Watson, the spit of her mum with her father’s height, was among the primates, tapping away on her phone.

“Taxi’s here!” She called, linking arms with Clara as the party shuffled towards the door; she smiled at her godfather, “don’t worry, Uncle Sherlock. I’ll keep an eye on things.”

“And who’s going to keep an eye on you, eh?” One of the rabble yelled, slinging an arm around Rosie as they filed out of the flat. Once they were once again alone, Sherlock turned his incredulous expression onto Molly.

“Oh, come on,” she chuckled, gathering up the empty cans the teens had left behind, “they’re just having a bit of fun,” she watched as he took his place by the window, his eyes narrowing as he observed the party climbing into the taxi, “are you going to stay there all night?”

“Yes.”

“Fine,” Molly said, discarding the black bag full of rubbish and stretching. Deliberately, “I’m going to have a shower.”

Sherlock glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and swallowed, “g-good idea.”

“You coming?” Molly said coyly, standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Sherlock answered by charging at her, lifting his giggling wife into his arms and almost throwing her into the shower.


The following morning, Sherlock found his daughter nursing a glass of aspirin filled water, groaning at the noise of the boiling kettle. He chuckled, sitting beside her and reaching for the paper.

“Good night?” She groaned in response, taking a swig of her water; he smirked, “we’ll talk about that tattoo when you’re sober.”

Molly almost broke her coffee cup as she turned around to look at her daughter, “your WHAT?”

“Excuse me, I need a shower,” Clara mumbled, slinking off into the bathroom before her mother could properly explode. Molly turned her surprise onto her husband.

“A tattoo?”

“Mmm. A raven, I think,” Sherlock said thoughtfully, turning the page in his paper, “your fault for naming her after Doctor Who.”

Molly gritted her teeth; she wasn’t having that argument again. She stirred her coffee vigorously, sitting down beside him, propping her feet in his lap.

“How are you so calm about this?”

“I don’t have to live with it,” he replied simply, stroking Molly’s foot slowly and carefully, just the way she liked.

“How can you-“

“Mum?”

“Yeah?” Molly called, sipping her coffee.

“Why are there handprints on the bathroom mirror?”

As Molly sprayed coffee everywhere and proceeded to choke, Sherlock abandoned the paper to pat her on the back, “I shouldn’t worry. When she sobers up, I think we’ll be even.”

Shore Leave : Midnight Whiskey

Summary: Jim x Reader x Leonard:  It all started when the crew of the Enterprise took some much needed shore leave on Yorktown. On the first night, you decide to go out with Scotty, Jim and Bones to the local bar. It’s when Scotty calls it quits for the night that things took a turn for the..best? If “best” meant being in between the most handsome men on the U.S.S Enterprise. Nothing like a good ole romp in the sack with the Captain & Doctor, at least for one night. One night, right? Or will this be the best shore leave you ever had?

Part One - Midnight Whiskey   Part Two-  Suprise

Part Three- Beautiful   Part Four- Screwed

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