One direction meet and greet tipsy

Vintage Italia's Pasta Bow Ties and Tipsy Elves Launch Holiday the creative direction of the partnership, the Pasta Bow Ties and Tipsy Elves the Chainsmokers, with backstage passes to meet and greet the stars. your one-of- a-kind ugly sweater, made exclusively for the partnership by Tipsy Elves. See more ideas about Harry styles drunk, Harry edward styles and Celebrities. Which early pop group does Zayn want One Direction to tour with? a) Destiny's. Neither recognised me, although they stood somewhat warily to greet Holmes. Then he gestured in my direction with a faintly owlish, 'You remember my wife, Mary? tedious with the sorts of people (Eugene – oh, sorry, Gene, good to meet you.) the only thing one can do is either spend the whole trip tipsy or just go grey.

You finish the chorus thrashing about in your seat and take a swig from your water bottle before the next verse. Your head is shaking back and forth by this point and your shoulders are bobbing one at a time. As the song comes to a close, you notice some movement in your peripheral vision. The car to your right is rolling down the window closest to you, so that you can see into the interior for the first time. The first thing you notice is the hair clip sitting atop his head, holding his messy locks together haphazardly.

If there was ever any doubt, it would have been immediately quelled when you glance down at his arm tattoos peeking out from under his t-shirt. Your eye is drawn to the rose on his elbow, which is resting against the window frame in a relaxed manner.

He was very polite, but didn't seem interested in the girls that were throwing themselves at him. He was really good at appearing genuinely interested in all the random stuff I was rambling on about. Harry made sure my drink was topped up and even bought us super-girly cocktails. We also had a shots competition - he won! I wasn't the first girl to fall under his spell, and I won't be the last.

Whether the story is fake or "real".

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The monster six-bedroom pad features five bathrooms, four reception rooms and a garden big enough to fit hundreds of Swingball posts. She's had enough to embarrass herself. But Rick doesn't seem to notice nor to mind.

This "scene" was a tumblr prompt that wanted Carol and Rick meeting drunk at a party. I took a few liberties here. I own nothing from the show.

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I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! She probably hadn't had all that much, at least not in comparison to many of the people that talked and laughed around her, but she'd had a lot by her own standards. She didn't usually drink. It just wasn't something she was very interested in doing too often. She'd seen, with her ex-husband what could happen if someone got drunk and happened to be the "wrong kind" of drunk and it had, psychologically she supposed, made the activity less desirable for her.

Tonight, though, she was partaking and doing it without shame. She didn't know, yet, how she'd get home, but she'd find a way. The party was a meet and greet or a mix and mingle or some other such sort of cute-nicknamed gathering in the new town where she had recently moved. She'd followed a good job there. When the job moved, and she'd had the option to job hunt in the old town where a lot of not so great memories resided or go house hunting in the new town, she'd opted to follow the job.

Already it was feeling like a great decision. She was renting a cute little house, one that she might end up buying once she had a few more conversations with the landlord about his interest to sell the property, and her daughter already loved her school and was making friends. And Carol was looking, for the first time in the two years since she'd last had contact with Ed Peletier, to find friends.

She already had a few, of course, but she was looking to socialize. She was looking to feel normal. She was craving something that she thought she might never crave again.

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She was craving human interaction. And she was considering, even though it made her pulse pick up and her palms get sweaty just to think about it, giving men another chance. She'd mentioned it in passing to Michonne, her boss and friend, when she'd been helping her unpack the many, many boxes that Michonne asked her to help her move as part of transferring the law office to a larger branch.

That's how she'd heard about the party. Michonne thought, even though it wasn't quite the gathering for her as a mother of two and a happily married woman, that the party might be just the thing for Carol. To be sure, also, that Carol couldn't and wouldn't protest? Michonne was keeping Sophia for the night. Carol was single, child-free, and worry-free. She was most assuredly drunk. At least, if not obliterated, she was drunker than she was really used to.

Suddenly realizing that her vision was not what it should be, Carol started toward the table at the side of the room where the drinks were, and where they were constantly being refreshed, in search of water. She needed water and she had the instant feeling that she needed air too.

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She'd met a few people tonight, talked to even more, and the last thing that she needed to do was to puke all over the floor and seal her fate as having made a terrible first impression on everyone who had come out—new and old to the town.

On her way to the table, though, to search for a battle of water before she fled for a door, Carol ran right into someone.

She ran into them full force. She ran into them like she meant it. She ran into them like this was the most important tackle of a football game. She was pretty sure she nearly sent them off their feet because she nearly lost her footing with the kickback of the impact. She might have fallen backwards, too, except for the fact that the man she ran into reached out and grabbed her quickly.

He pulled her into him, not to be inappropriate in the slightest but rather to simply stop her from teetering one direction or another and landing on the floor. Oh—I'm sorry," she stammered out. He thought it was funny and he laughed. She was a little mortified, but he was laughing. Carol shook her head. If she'd felt a little like she might be sick before, the impact from the collision had made it worse.