popcorn the song

AU in which everything is the same except all horses in Westeros are replaced by segways
  • Sandor Clegane going back into the riot to find his segway
  • Jaime Lannister owning two segways of different colors, which have been named “Honor” and “Glory”
  • Arya Stark finding a segway after the Red Wedding and naming it 

anonymous asked:

Just wondering, what do you like/love the most about Shane and Ryan, both as individuals and as a Dynamic Duo™? :)


  • deadpan humour
  • meme man
  • how much he enjoys pissing Ryan off (hotdaga, anyone?)
  • the way he taunts the demons/spirits on location


  • living embodiment of sunshine
  • his laughter
  • his genuine enthusiasm for his show
  • the fact that he has a popcorn song

Dynamic Duo™

  • the entire skeptic/believer dynamic
  • how appreciative they are of fans + how they interact with fans regularly
  • banter!!!
  • the way they laugh at/make fun of each other

Marksandrec’s Super Dooper Popcorn Party #228

(Dialogue from “Happy New Year” from Rent.) (Happy new year! :3)

you’re my achilles heel

A/N: So this is my first ever B99 or Jake x Amy fic so I really hope that I’ve managed to not go completely OOC and I hope you enjoy it.


She gets the call just past eleven. She’s curled in bed and she’s got a fresh bowl of popcorn and half a season of The Bachelor left to watch. “Oh, come on.” She whines. “You said you’d at least try and spend a few hours out without calling me.”

“But I love you.” He half-yells, it comes out slurred. Amy’s pretty sure Charles’ dragged him back to that strange German pub that he’d had his and Genevieve’s last anniversary at. She can recognize the clinking of the jukebox and the indistinguishable sound of ‘murder music’. “You should comen join us, Ames.”

“Can’t.” She says. “I just got settled in with my popcorn and wine.”

“Are you watching the bachelor?” Jake tries to whisper, sounds hurt. “Without me?” She thinks she hears Charles say something but she can’t make it out.

“Why are you whispering?” She asks, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Shame, Amy.” He sing-songs. “Shame’s why.”

“Oh, god, you’re getting weird.” Amy retorts. “How about you go have fun with the guys  and text me when you guys are downstairs I’ll help you up the staircase.”

“You’re the bestest,” Jake yells. “I love you! You and I should definitely-”

She doesn’t get to hear the rest of his sentence and honestly, she’s not sure she wants to. It would not be normal.

She gets a text three episodes, two full bowls of popcorn, and much more wine than she’d ever care to admit later.

Hw come whenvr you call m yihb look s u party?

She almost chokes on a kernel. “What?” She blurts out because she’s starting to think she might be drunk. She texts back, You okay?

I thnk I had a wee bot t much.

Dude. You’re hammered.


She texts Terry, How bad is it?  

But, 🤷‍♂️🐄 xoxo, the chuckster is all she gets back from his end.

She’s mentally preparing herself for tomorrow when she curls back up into a ball and presses play on her current episode. She manages to finish the most part of the season before the next text from Jake.

Im home loveyou youre so cooool Iloveyou

“Oh god.” Amy winces. She’s almost one hundred percent certain he’s going to wake up sick tomorrow morning and that’ll it make it the third time this year she’s had to take care of him.

She approaches the front door with utmost silent, being extremely cautious and making sure she doesn’t even come near the creakiest of the floorboards. She waits by the front door a minute, two, five, fifteen almost before she hears giggling coming from the opposite side.

Apparently, he’s leaning up against the door, and when she goes to open it he loses his balance and falls right down into her and she falls with him.

She wants to be frustrated. She really does, but Jake’s giggling is ridiculous and contagious and so she just joins in instead. “Hey there.”

“Amyyyyy.” He sighs, tugging at a loss strand of her from her ponytail and moving it all around her face. “Hmmm.” He sighs. “Your hair is so so soft. And it smells like cherries!” He pauses, and she can tell he’s trying his best to keep a straight face. “I need to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.” She has no idea where this is going. He pulls himself up, looking insanely serious.

“How come,” he begins, “how come you never let me shampoo your hair..?”

“Oh no.” She rolls her eyes. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Charles.” She stands up. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m being serious, Ames, I want to shampoo your hair. It’s so soft.” He shakes his head, throws his hands up into the air. “Why is this shirt so itchy?!”

She sighs. “Did you have a goodnight?”

“Obviously, guys night, duh, we arm wrestled and watched the game and drank tons of beer.”  

“You guys talked about your feelings and danced to Salt N’ Peppa didn’t you?”

“What? No! What? Obviously not I can’t believe you’d even suggest… ” He sighs, rubs his fingers against the side of his temple. “It was just one song.”

“You would’ve loved it, Amy.” He says, nodding his head vigorously as she drags him across the hall. “This enormous guy just bumped straight into me in the middle of my tequila shot. So I just stared him down and he apologized and walked away.”

She tugs at his shirt, and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Detective Santiago!” He says, shaking his head disapprovingly. “I can’t believe you’d try to take advantage of me in my current state of mind.”

“Yeah, right.” She scoffs. “You wreak of alcohol, you need a shower.”

“You know, we did five and a half tequila shots.” She shuffles him into the bathroom while he talks, making sure his voice doesn’t get too loud.

His eyes suddenly light up as he pulls his shirt off. “Sarge sang achy breaky heart.”

“If you really love me, you’d have taken a video.” He leans in and presses a kiss to the edge of her lips, sloppy and with a tequila aftertaste. He waves his phone in front of her face. “All four minutes of it.”

She leans in and presses a quick kiss to his lips. “Best husband ever.”

“Don’t I know it.” He grins, then he’s wiggling his eyebrows again. “You know… I could always use some company in the shower.”

“No way,” Amy says. “Are you forgetting what happened the last time we tried to do anything other than take a shower in that shower?”

“Ames, if the curtain was gonna rip off the railing, it was gonna rip off the railing, we just encouraged it to live out its dreams.” He starts making his way towards the shower.

He really needs to get some rest.

He turns to face her, to continue rambling, and trips instead, lands front first onto the fluffy bathroom mat. It’s still hard and Amy flinches at the sound. They both freeze, waiting for a sound.

“Maybe she didn’t hear.” He whispers. “Maybe-”


Amy turns to face him, gives him a sly smile before pushing past him to the bedroom. “Your turn!.”  

“Hey!” Jake laughs, pulling at the waist of her old Cookie Monster pajama pants. She reluctantly comes to a halt, turning to face the two of them.

Katie stumbles out of her bedroom, pulling her faded pink blanket behind her, Mrs. Cuddles (Her favorite teddy bear. The first thing Jake and Amy had bought her together)  in tow. She looks up at Jake with a frown. “Daddy your hair.” She says lazily, pointing up at it. “It’s wet.”

“It is,” Jake says solemnly, nodding his head.

“Why don’t we let daddy get dressed and then we can read you a story, hmm?” Amy says, taking her hand. He stumbles out into the bedroom before closing the door.

“Ames, I’ll be right there.” He says through the walls.

Amy grins as Katie tugs at her shirt. “Is daddy okay, mommy?”

“Your dad just likes to be silly sometimes, sweetie,” Amy assures her, scoops her up into her arms and carries her to the door.

“Daddy, we comin in.”

“We’re coming in.” Amy corrects her, pushing the door open.

“Amy!” He squeals. “Help I’m stuck in my pajama pants!”

“Why don’t you wait on the bed for us, okay?” Katie nods and slips over to the bed, dramatically throwing herself onto it. Yeah, she definitely got that from Jake.

“God, Ames, I’m way too old for shots.” He tells her once that disaster is perfectly taken care of.

“Yeah, I could’ve told you that.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Jake tells Katie. “Let’s get you back to bed, alright?”

Katie wiggles off the bed, stands in the doorway, “I wanna stay up and eat ice cream.” She says decidedly. “Please mommy.”

Amy shakes her head, turns to Jake expecting him to back her up, but he instead he shoots her his infamous puppy dog eyes. “Yeah… please mommy.”

“Nope.” Amy says, popping the ‘p’. She punches Jakes’ shoulder. Gives him a look.

It means shut the hell up.

babysitter au

Laurent liked to believe that he was quite mature for his age. Miss Vannes told him that he was reading at least five levels above his grade average, and almost every day he got a smiley face sticker for good work. Principal Guion wanted to place him in a gifted class, his mum said she was proud that he never threw tantrums, and Auguste said that he was smarter than some of his own friends. Mr. Herode had even told his father that he wanted to have Laurent skip a grade.

And so Laurent decided that he was definitely mature enough to get married.

He just had to tell Damen.

Keep reading

Concert - CH

Y/N Pov

“Y/N Hurry up!” my Best friend (Name) shouted. “We’re gunna be late!”

“Coming” I replied, sighing, she wanted to go see this new band she liked, I however, was more content in just chilling at home, put on a movie and eating pizza and popcorn, maybe writing a new song with my guitar; before going to bed.

Y/B/F/N however, liked to go out, get drunk, have fun, socialise etc, how or why we’re friends is beyond me, we’re mostly different, some differences are good though, we have completely different tastes in men, but the same taste in alcohol which is always a bonus.

Keep reading


this is fuckin art okay

anonymous asked:

what do you think was steve rogers' first reaction to microwave popcorn?

Steve’s first reaction to microwave popcorn isn’t the wonder he’d felt at certain other modern technology, or a hint of a smile at something neat but not all that relevant to him, or even the bland resignation of a man who has seen everything in his world change and is no longer surprised at any of it.

Instead, he gets a sinking feeling in his gut as a single thought crosses his mind. Do movie houses even exist, anymore, he thinks before he can stop himself.

This new century seems to delight in the rejection of anything outdated. Dance halls, he’s been reliable informed, are a thing of the past. Companies extol the virtues of going “paperless”. Telegrams and telephones have been replaced with tiny computers in every person’s pocket and nobody writes letters or knows how to do laundry by hand. The military is even phasing out the use of morse code.

Every household he’s seen has at least one television. Any movie anyone might want to watch is available to bring into your living room. The news cycle is 24/7, no news reels to take in before a feature film.

Steve remembers when the lure of cheap, salty snacks - a luxury, but a small one that even he could afford - was as big a draw as the pictures themselves.

But you can make popcorn at home, now.

He thinks about flims he’d gone to with Bucky in his life and decides not to ask if going to the movies has changed as much as going dancing has.