#Drinking

[the-pgtips-monkey]

Maybe some PG TIPS might help with ur problem. FOR ITS GOD'S CURE TO ALL THINGS.

I have found myself back aboard the character-songs-for-my-OCs train of thought and -- while this may well turn into a randomly-updating thread post -- for now I just gotta holler about "Reliable Narrator" by Chase Petra being 😩🤌 SUCH a Flint song

[tarithenurse]

Shots

Fandom: MCU AU. Pairing/starring: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader. Word count: 3219. Oops. Content: Alcohol and drinking/drunkenness, unrealistic hangovers, unprotected smut (be smarter than them, pls). Unbetaed as usual. A/N: So on an unrelated note...I was able to do groceries yesterday without having a panic attack! Yay! Go me!

Shots

The taste is mainly sweet but there’s a twang of sourness that makes the edge of your tongue curl...or maybe that’s the alcohol but there’s no burn anymore as you swallow, lifting the empty shots glass into the air as proof of your deed. Around you, your girlfriends cheer – all holding up their own empty glasses too.

Out on the dance floor, people are swaying and grinding to the beat that has held the same sway over you most evening and you’re eager to rejoin the masses. It’s a party after all and you’re young and gorgeous wanting to make the most of it.

“I think he’s looking at you!” Melissa squeals in your ear, drawing your attention to a man at the other end of the bar.

For a second your eyes meet but you look away quickly – though not too quickly to notice that he’s hot. Dark and broody, stubbles peppering his square jaw. He’s button-up is tight across his shoulders and arms, making it possible to see his muscles.

“Hey Buck!” you hear the bartender yell at him, tossing a beer his way, “fancy seeing you here on a night off.”

Buck. It’s gotta be short of something but you addled mind can’t figure out what. It doesn’t matter anyways as Brittney has decided that you’ve been standing still long enough and she’s now ushering all of your group back on the floor.

--- The world goes black ---

The lights are blurring as you tip your head back, gunning the tequila. The world spins gently, making you almost trip up as you bounce to the beat of the music.

“One more!” Melissa grabs your hand, smearing the lemon onto it before drizzling generously with salt. Another shot – you’re not sure if you dislike the alcohol or the lemon the most but it doesn’t matter because you have half a daiquiri left which you eagerly slurp through the straw.

--- The world goes black ---

Melissa had been tugging at your sleeve a bit ago but now you can’t find her. Maybe she’s outside.

--- The world goes black ---

There’s a deep rumble of an engine. Your view of the city is slanted and restricted to the narrow space of the car’s window. For a moment you wonder if the girls have gotten a cap, but you can’t hear their usual chatter.

--- The world goes black ---

You lie for a moment and just feel the mattress beneath you before you open your eyes because something doesn’t add up: how did you get home and into bed? Wringing your brain, there are waaaaay to many gaps in your memory to be comfortable.

It doesn’t help to open your eyes. Instead of the soft greys and blues of your makeshift canopy above the bed, you see bare ceiling and fear creeps into you like a sneaking cold. Turning your head, your suspicion in confirmed when the bedside table is different too. Sitting up with a jolt, you regret your actions as your head thrums but you are quick to ignore that as another revelation pins you in place: everything but your undies and bra is gone!

Scrambling to gather the covers over your chest, you look around for answers and notice a piece of paper on the bedside table. Taking it with shaking hands, you begin to read the jagged handwriting, fearing the worst:

“Where are you? You’re in my apartment – I couldn’t get your address out of you and I don’t know where your purse is.

Who’s apartment? My name’s Bucky. I’m a bouncer at the club you were at with your friends.

Where are your friends? I honestly don’t know...try to call them.

Where’s your phone? It was on the bedside table, try to look in the bed if it’s not there anymore.

Where’s your clothes? In the dryer in the bathroom (door to the right – there are fresh towel laid out for you).

PS. The pills are just aspirins, take them with the water.

PPS. If you just want to leave without a word, that’s cool – otherwise I’m back at noon.”

That’s when you notice the bottled water and the tablets still in their blister foil and you suddenly realize that your head still is throbbing. And you’re thirsty. Moments later the aspirins are gone with half the water and you set to the task of finding your phone.

The screen on your phone is cracked in the corner, a tell that you must have dropped it at some point in the night, but it still works well enough to show that you’ve got a couple of missed calls and texts in the group chat from Brittney and Melissa and you quickly type in a response:

“I’m fine. Just woke up. Not at home but at the bouncer?”

You also send a picture of the scribbled note.

Lowering your phone, you take in the surroundings for the first time. The place is tidy with one wall covered in a wardrobe with sliding doors and a window on the opposite wall with grey curtains. The bed you’re kneeling in is a queen size and made with matching grey linens, the sheet folded down tight even after use. The bedside table on the other side holds an old timey alarm-clock that reads 11:47 and a book – Lord of the Rings, of all things.

Getting out of the bed, phone clutched to your chest, you tiptoe to the door on the right. Opening it, you’re granted a view of a worn but clean bathroom and a wash/dryer tower where the dryer waits lazily to be emptied. There’s also a sink with a towel folded and resting on...and a mirror that shows off just what a mess you are.

Making a quick decision, you shed the rest of your clothes and step into the shower.

Oh, it feels heavenly as the hot water sprays onto you. Scrubbing as best you can (even borrowing a bit of shower gel and shampoo even though the scent is like pinewood rather than the usual flowers), you begin to feel like a real person again as if the anxiety is washed away with the sweat and the makeup.

It’s when you’ve stepped out of the shower and are half done drying that you hear it: footsteps.

Leaning against the bathroom door with baited breath, you can hear the steps in the bedroom. You hear them near the door. Hear them stop.

“Hey?” They voice is gentle albeit raspy.

“H-hi....uhm...”

There’s a soft hum. “Take your time. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You try to put a face to the voice. Bucky. Buck. A foggy memory of a man at the end of the bar surfaces. Handsome. No, scratch that. Hot.

You hear the footsteps pick up again and something spurs you on to say through the door: “Thank you! I...” You what? Got shitfaced and needed to be saved? “Thank you...”

“No problem.”

The footsteps trail away and you hurry drying yourself off. Considering this morning after, you’re happy you’d opted for jeans last night but the top is still worryingly skimpy for a Sunday morning in a stranger’s home. But there’s nothing to do about it.

Exiting the bathroom, you cross to the only other door and find yourself entering a compact but cozy living room slash kitchen. A tall set of windows let the city air in on a breeze, a few IKEA pictures hang on the walls, matching the rest of the interior and clashing wonderfully with the man standing by the stove with the back to you.

“I’m making omelette...in case you want some,” he offers, still not looking to you.

He’s wearing grey sweats and a tight white t-shirt that allows you to admire his back and the full sleeve tattoo on his left arm.

“Thank you but -” you start, only to be interrupted by a loud growl of your stomach that must have picked up the scent of the deliciousness he’s cooking.

You can see his shoulders shake a little at a suppressed laugh. “That’s what I figured. Plates are in the left, tall cupboard. Cutlery top drawer.”

Silently, you find the things and set the table. Then you start making coffee, causing Bucky to hum softly at the scent. It’s...cozy. Domestic. And every chance you get, you look at him. He has a gorgeous profile, you decide, especially when he smiles.

Eventually, you’re sitting at the table across from each other.

Scooping up some of the omelette (with cherry tomatoes, mushrooms, bell pepper, and cheese), you decide to eat rather than ask what you want but even with your eyes fixed on the food, you’re annoyingly aware that it’s Bucky’s turn to study you.

“You got a hold of your friends?” he asks.

You nod – and it’s partially true. The texts from them was from late last night where they’d made it home, asking if you’d gotten lucky. After that? Nothing. It makes you wonder if you’d tried anything with anyone – with Bucky.

“They okay?” he asks again.

“Hopefully they got a hangover for ditching me,” it pops out of you.

He smiles crookedly and something stirs in your belly. “I’m amazed that you’re doing this well considering how bad off you were.”

You shrug. “Maybe one day it’ll hit me.” You watch him scoop up a mouthful. “Do you normally take in drunks?”

“Gotta admit it’s a first for me,” he admits.

“Why did you?”

Something dark moves over his face. “Let’s just say...the alternative would have haunted me.”

Something tells you that you don’t want to know. Sipping the coffee, you allow the warmth to push aside the anxiety. “I remember you...at the end of the bar.”

“Oh so you remember something!” he smiles crookedly again. “I was so close to come over to you then.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He shrugs. “I’d have felt I’d be taking advantage of you.”

“...still got stuck with me.”

His grey eyes flash as he takes you in. “Well...maybe we can have a do-over?”

You set down the mug, trying to gauge his mood. “Isn’t this it?”

An eyebrow raises. “Don’t mind if it...but don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.”

“I don’t.”

“You can walk away if you want.”

“I said,” you intone sharply before softening up again, “I don’t.”

Surging forward, his lips crash onto yours, tongue soon sweeping along the seem of your mouth, making you sigh and open for him.

You slowly drive him backwards, following eagerly with a hand gripping in his hair and nails raking the scalp gently. His hands are on you, warm and slow as the trace from your hips to your waist and on until you grab his wrists and remove his touch from you. He could easily fight against the weak force you exert but he doesn’t, instead letting you have this power over him.

Pulling away, you see how they grey of his eyes is reduced to a thin circle. His chest is rising rapidly but in a steady rhythm and you want to see more.

“Take it off.” You tug at his t-shirt.

Obeying without a fuss, you’re happy to see that the tight shirt had promised only what it could deliver: a strong physique with lean and defined muscles and you’re ready to wager that it’s all natural, either from plenty of gym-time or maybe even some unfair meddling by mother nature herself. Either way, you’re happy to let your fingertips dance over his pecs and abs, causing goosebumps to follow in their wake.

“Pants too,” you decide.

“Seems a bit one-sided, princess,” he points out though his hands already are on the low-riding waistbands of the sweats.

“Considering how I was dressed when I woke up, I think you had a head start.”

He smiles crookedly. “Fair point.”

Standing just enough to slide the pants down the ass, Bucky makes good on your request. Thick thighs...and a thick bulge that strains his boxers and makes your cunt heat.

You’re on your knees before you know it, maybe hitting the floor a tad too hard but who cares as long as you get to slide your hands up his thighs and body. Reversing, your nails dance lightly across his tan skin before your fingers hook on the waistband of the boxers.

But this is as far as Bucky lets you get. Snatching your wrists, he breathes in deeply.

“You sure, princess?”

You meet his gaze calmly. “Yes.”

Slowly letting go, he watches you palm his erection through the elastic fabric. Watches as you pull at the scrap of clothing with one hand while reaching in and pulling him out with the other.

He’s big. The foreskin is still pulled over the tip so all you can see is a dot of angry red beneath a sheen of pre-cum.

“Here, let me,” he mumbles, lifting off the chair and pulling the boxers to his knees, allowing you to get the off the rest of the way.

Sitting naked on the chair, legs wide and balls resting on the seat, he’s a sight to behold. His cock leans upwards bobbing as he breathes in deeply.

Wrapping a hand around it, you testingly slide your fist up and down, eventually freeing his cock-head which you kitten-lick, causing the man to shudder. Salty. Another lick, this time longer and more pronounced, makes him groan – and devilish as you are, you grant him no warning before taking him in your mouth and suckling.

In your periphery, you see his arms flail and hands bunch into fists but he doesn’t touch you because you have once made it clear that he couldn’t. In lack of anything else to grasp, he holds on to the seat of the chair, knuckles whitening as you find a rhythm with your hand and mouth, cheeks hollowed as you suckle and lick what you can reach.

He’s heavy on your tongue. There’s a vein throbbing along the underside of the shaft. Whenever you tease the frenulum, his breath hitches.

Your free hand has been resting on his thigh but now you reach for his balls to roll them in your fingers and tug gently as they keep travelling up.

“Too good,” he warns, “gotta stop, princess.”

Pulling of with a plop, you bat your lashes at him innocently. “Stop? Or switch?”

His face lights up. “Thought you’d never let me.”

Scooping you up, he marches into the bedroom and tosses you unceremoniously on the bed before following. Crawling over you, he kisses your stomach until he reaches the hem of your top and he drags it over your head so he can bury his face in your cleavage. Kissing and biting, he manages to multitask enough to loosen the bra and (although that means pulling back for a moment) pull it off you.

“Fucking amazing,” he purrs at the sight of your tits.

Cupping one breast, his lips find the nipple of the other, bestowing a single feather light kiss to it that makes your skin pucker.

Then he descends, lavishing kisses and little bites wherever he reaches until his hands slide down your sides and around to the closing of your jeans. He’s fast, ravenous – one moment you’re half dressed and the next you’re lying completely naked and exposed before him.

And it feels good.

You reach for him, wanting him close and he accepts, keeping his body suspended on an elbow so as not to crush you while the other hand is occupied, gentle fingers stroking your folds and spreading the juices that have already gathered.

“I want you,” you whisper.

“Right here, princess,” Bucky replies with a crooked smile that evaporates as he slides his cock along your slit.

It’s a stretch but one that makes your toes curl in delight as he fills you up slowly until his hips are slotted against yours and there’s no more room to occupy for him.

Eyes screwed shut, he breathes heavily for a few seconds before finally meeting your heavy-lidded gaze and setting a slow and steady pace. Rocking into you, he somehow drags along the right spots and you feel yourself clamp down on him, causing him to gasp.

“Fuck, you take me so well, princess,” he growls.

His head dips to the crook of your neck where he bites softly as he ups the pace.

Your own hands are gripping him tight, nails digging into his muscles. You’re desperate to keep him close, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him even deeper and keep him with you. In record time the heavy heat in your abdomen grows and consumes you, threatening to burst at any moment and you cry out for him to go just a bit faster and a little bit harder.

Instead he pulls out.

Empty, your cunt flutters around nothing as you blink to get him into clear view.

“Wha-?”

He shakes his head. “Too damn good.”

But Bucky proves himself yet again to be a gentleman: going down on you, he holds your thighs wide with his elbows while he busies both mouth and a hand to make sure that you don’t miss out on much and with a few tight circles of his thumb and the broad licks of a strong tongue, he’s got your trembling once more. Your hands are in his hair. Your legs are shaking, back arching. A guttural moan rips from you as you teeter on the very edge, so close to ultimate bliss but somehow unable to take the tumble.

“I need you, Buck,” you whine.

He hums against you, making you try to curl up as you’re so so so close. But you need his cock.

“Please!” you beg.

“Fuck.”

Pulling away, he doesn’t wipe his mouth as he gets up on his knees pulling by your hips so your cunt rises to meet his cock. The new angle, the fullness, it’s too much. Even with the head down, you know you’ll be done for in a few strokes and Bucky proves you right as he rams into you, hard and deep – moments later you come with a cry as your body seizes with ecstasy and you see white.

Each thrust a new moan is pushed from you lungs, prolonging bliss but not for long as Bucky’s hips falter in their rhythm and he too groans deeply.

For a moment he holds you still, allowing you to feel each throb of his cock inside you but eventually he collapses onto the bed with you, barely preventing himself from flattening you by letting go of your hip with a hand. You’re both breathing heavily, bodies covered in a light dew of sweat.

“Damn, princess,” he gasps.

“Says you...”

You can feel him softening slightly inside you, his cum seeping past his cock and probably making a mess out of the sheets.

“Just...give me a few and I’ll treat you better,” he mumbles as he pulls out and rolls off you.

Lying next to you, chest rising and falling, you can help but roll into his arm and put your head there so you can hear your heart.

“That a promise?” you ask sweetly.

“Oh yeah...I’m not done with you anytime soon.”

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 21 | Uninvited Judgements

summary: you were invited to a party by one of your friends, of course you brought Matt, your boyfriend along despite him being slightly younger, everything was going by smoothly and everyone was having great fun until you went out to the bathroom and when you came back you saw your drunken friends surrounding Matt, not suggesting anything good by their loud laughter…

warnings: ANGST, heavy language, arguing, party setting, drunk guests, bullying, age discrimination, age gap, all of the drinking characters are of age please drink responsibly and be aware of the possible consequences! & possibly more

authors note: nnn is soon coming to an end and the Christmas season will start which means… more Christmas fics! (And more smut) I am already feeling the spirit and love this season so much, also sorry for not posting this fic when I was supposed to but something personal happened and I couldn’t finish it that day and I hope y’all understand , but anyway luv y’all sm and hope y’all enjoy this one

The music bounced through the walls of the small apartment, a vibrant background to the laughter and conversation that filled the air. Matt adjusted the collar of his shirt, visibly feeling a little self-conscious under his excitement. He was still getting used to being around my friends, most of them were several years older than him. We had been dating for a few months now and while I loved spending time with him, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was still trying to prove himself.

I took his hand and squeezing it gently. “I’ll just be gone a minute,” I said, leaning in to kiss him softly. “Just need to use the bathroom. You okay to hang out here?” “Yeah, I’m good,” he replied, forcing a smile. “I’ll grab a soda or something.” As I slipped away into the crowded bathroom, Matt leaned against the counter and glanced around. Most of the partygoers were off in groups, cups in hand and laughter mixing with the music. He was about to reach for a drink when he noticed a couple of my friends gathering near him, their faces flushed and attitude high from the alcohol they have consumed.

“Look who it is!” one of my friends Mary slurred, her eyes shining with mischief. “Little Matt. What’s he doing here all by himself? Waiting for his mom to pick him up?” Matt felt heat rush to his cheeks, an uncomfortable mix of embarrassment and irritation. “I’m fine,” he muttered, trying to brush off the comments but the lack of a reaction from him it only encouraged the others. “Oh come on!” another friend chimed in with her laughter ringing loud. “You’re dating a woman who could practically be your aunt! What is she like, 25?” The group burst into drunk giggles, clearly enjoying the show of the younger guy, considering him as an easy target.

Matt clenched his fists at his sides, feeling a swirl of emotions and his gut twisted in upset. The teasing only got worse, the insults sharper, the references to our age gap digging deeper until he just couldn’t stand it anymore. “I’m not a kid for gods sake,” he shot back but his voice barely cut through the intense crowd. Their laughter only grew louder, cutting off his words. When I finally returned with a bright smile lighting my face while Matt was the opposite, livid and his skin prickling with anger. I noticed the tension immediately as I maneuvered through the crowd toward him.

“Everything okay?” I asked concerned looking from him to my drunken friends who had just finished their turn of jokes. “They think it’s hilarious that I’m younger,” he said, unable to keep the annoyance from his voice. “Why do you even hang out with people who think it’s okay to make fun of someone like that?” I looked caught off guard while blinking rapidly. “I don’t think they meant anything by it, Matt. They were drunk and you know how that goes. They joke around, they don’t always know where to draw the line.” “A line?” he snapped and frustration spilling out of his expression. “It feels fucking disrespectful to make jokes about someone’s age! Like I’m some boy toy you’re just playing around with. Do you think I like being the center of their jokes?”

“Matt, just chill out for a second,” I ushed, raising your hands for him to calm down. “You know they didn’t mean for it to hurt you. It’s just banter! They were drunk—” “No, it’s not just banter!” he raised his voice louder than he intended. “It’s condescending and you’re just brushing it off like it doesn’t matter!” I felt my heart racing, a mixture of anger and hurt beginning to swirl in my veins “You’re making a huge deal out of this. They’re not bad people, they were having a good time! You can’t just get upset over everything people say when they’re drinking!” “It’s not ‘everything’! It’s just this! Ugh!” he exclaims, frustration lacing every syllable that left past his mouth. “Sometimes I feel like you don’t even see how it affects me. You just make excuses for them.” With that, one of my friends—a guy named Jake who had been listening nearby—snorted. “Who knew Matt had such thin skin? Can’t handle a little fun?”

Matt’s gaze flicked toward Jake, becoming stiff in his stance. “And you’re an ass.” “That’s rich, coming from someone who’s basically a kid,” Jake retorted and shaking his head. “Matt, just ignore him,” I pleaded but he was too far gone now. “No, fuck this…” he muttered, stepping away from the group who had been laughing at his expense. He turned to me with his eyes blazing. “I’m not playing this game. I’m not gonna sit here and take your friends’ bullshit. I’m done.” Before I could get a single word out past my lips, Matt turned on his heel and moved toward the exit, the door slamming behind him. The sound echoed in the now silent apartment as everyone exchanged glances, the party suddenly feeling much less exciting.

I tried to process what had just happened, a storm of emotions swirling inside of me. My friends still buzzing from the drinks, didn’t have the capacity to understand. They were just drunk and careless. But Matt? His feelings were painfully real and visible for anyone and my heart sank knowing I would have to find him and somehow make sense of this mess my drunk friends have put me in now.

@hearts4werka |

𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🏷️ | @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknott - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - @sturniolosiphone - @sophand4n4 - @zombiesturniolo - @luvleyangeldust |

[storieswithvenus]

drunken confessions // jj maybank x fem reader

warnings// use of weed, drinking, drunk confession, slightly nsfw??, hot tub jj

no use of y/n!!

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

saturday nights were your favourites. just you and JJ sitting in the hot tub, drinking and smoking the night away.

“do you remember when we were yo-younger and we chased that one kook around the forest with masks on” you hiccuped out, taking a puff of the blunt the blonde boy handed you a minute before, your eyes tearing up with laughter as the two of you were speaking about your past memories from being kids.

JJ lets out a loud laugh, taking a mouthful of the beer in his hand, eyes focused on you and the disco light reflecting onto your body. nobody would be able to have the JJ Maybank admit that these were his favourite nights too. he got to watch as you loosened up and spilled everything to him. you were the centre of his universe, his favourite person.

you two had met when he accidentally hit you when he was cycling to school when he was younger, throwing not just you but him onto the ground due to the impact. apologising quickly as he got up off the muddy path and held out his hand to you, waiting for you to grab hold of it and allow him to help you up. he had expected you to cry, hit him, yell at him, but you didn’t, you started laughing. the looked at you as if you were crazy, you just continued laughing on the path before grabbing him hand for him to pull you up.

“jay, you with me hunny?” that godforsaken nickname. the one that made his inside melt, butterflies erupt in his stomach, his heart growing warm, a smile etching itself onto his face. he looks up at you, your eyes on his, just admiring each other.

“love, i have to tell you something,” his voice slightly shaky, “i.. i kinda have some feelings for you”. your eyes widen, your mouth slightly agape. the sight of your reaction not really reassuring JJ, the embarrassment rising from his feet to his head in a matter of seconds, wanting to crawl into a hole and never come back out. JJ stands up, the water dripping off his torso, his abs soaked, water droplets dripping down his chest causing quite unholy thoughts in your head.

he starts to get out of the hot tub, grabbing all his belongings, expecting you to sit there and watch him leave. your hand grabs his, his head turns to look at you, “look i’m sorry i shouldn’t-“

your lips on his cuts him off. the sweet vanilla taste off your lipgloss, the taste of beer and weed in both of your mouths. the taste being more intoxicating than the substances you were both drinking and smoking. your free hand running up the back of his neck to his hair, pulling on it slightly as he lets out a little moan into your mouth. JJ drops everying he was holding, not caring if it fell into the water or not, his hand going straight for your waist. the kiss made you both feel like time stopped, the world stopped spinning when your lips were on his.

pulling back slightly from his lips, your forehead now resting on his as you both looked at each other. “you’re stupid if you think i don’t have feelings for you too hunny”, your voice quiet, just for him to hear, the sound of crickets in the back, waves crashing onto each other behind you.

you both start to giggle at each other, the weed now catching up on you two, staring at each others dilated eyes. his eyes start to close and he leans into you again, your lips quickly finding each others.

his hand moves down to the flesh of your ass, gripping it slightly as your pull on his hair, the kiss becoming more aggressive and dominant. his tongue swiping your bottom lip asking for permission, your mouth opening slightly allowing his tongue to find yours. both slightly moaning into each others mouths.

“NOT IN THE FUCKING HOT TUB”

[atompalace-official]

….well, she’s got the spirit!

[amygdalae]

Any beer under 5% feels like I'm a medieval guy hydrating with beer because it's safer to drink than the nearest body of freshwater

[whatididtomakeitbetter]

Sober or not, it always hurts the same.

Throw back another bottle, or give it up forever.

Sobriety helps addicts.

What if you're addicted to living?

SOBRIETY.

I am brute,

Austere,

Cold,

Malevolent.

I go down the steps

of humanity as if

I had been pushed.

I can't stand sobriety.

I have a doctorate in self-destruction –

It took me many years

to complete it,

But here I am:

Mutilated,

Extorted from my former optimism, Drunk,

Stunned,

Numb on the last step

of the huge ladder of life.

My grand finale never arrives.

This is who I am.

Nobody taught me how to be someone else.

And that's the girl I rescued

from the bottom of the pool, about to drown.

Can you believe it?

I saved myself.

Then I studied and

mastered the art of losing myself.

I have since returned to

the bottom of that pool

and I stay down there.

Such revolting and satisfying silence.

A contradiction.

This is who I am.

And I swim very well.

[gasterofficial]

wtf drinking is cool again

[sharkcutlery]

someone said more drunk alastor. my wish is your command

[babyanimalgifs]

Cute tiger drinking water

(Source)

[incognitopolls]

This question is about alcohol and recreational drugs, not substances that have been prescribed to you for a medical use. If multiple reasons apply, select whichever one is strongest for you personally.

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[mari-lair]

quick sketch cause i already have too many wips

[justcatposts]

Kitty was drinking and thinking

(Source)

[couchnapping]

the beautiful carefree public drunkenness of baseball vs the foul and menacing public drunkenness of football

[retropopcult]

Three couples in a Pittsburgh bar, 1959