#TW: alcholism

[lab-fire]

[Neth carefully runs a hand through her hair, trying to calm her]

[ Neth walks through the front door, looking completely numb. Their mouth was open slightly and his eyes were unfocussed. She’s evidently been crying and their hands wont stop shaking ]

@lab-fire

[Perix was coming into the living room, beer bottle in hand. She sees Neth and immediately sets it down]

Neth?

[youcantseeus-fan]

Book Haymitch and Movie Haymitch are two different characters

If the Haymitch in SOTR feels “off” to you and it has been some time since you’ve read the trilogy then I would suggest that you go back and read it. Particularly if you’ve got Woody Harrelson dancing around in your head.

I don’t see people discuss this very often, but book Haymitch and movie Haymitch are quite different. They’re both drunk assholes with knowledge of the Games, but that’s about all that movie Haymitch is whereas book Haymitch has so many more layers, so much more depth, and is so much closer to the boy that we see in SOTR.

The movies sand down his extremes. Book Haymitch can come off as much darker and even more violent (such as when he punches Peeta). But he can also be much more tender than movie Haymitch (such as when he kisses the top of Katniss’s head before her interview).

His level of despair and hopelessness is much higher in the books. It’s like he doesn’t know what to do because even though he has plenty of smart ideas, everything he tries just ends up getting people killed. And yet he has these two kids in front of him who keep wanting him to try. This doesn’t really come across to me in the movies.

His alcoholism is so much worse and is treated so much more seriously in the books. In the movies, it’s almost always used as a joke. It’s sometimes used as a joke in the books, but we can also see that this man has severe alcoholism to the point that he has difficulty functioning. When he meets Katniss and Peeta, he immediately vomits on the ground and Peeta has to go give him a bath. His withdrawals in Catching Fire are also striking.

Book Haymitch has hints of rebellion such as when he points into the camera when Katniss is reaped. These aren’t as present in movie Haymitch. I certainly think that movie Haymitch is pissed off about the Games, but he doesn’t have the same dark undercurrent of rebellion.

I also think that one of the biggest differences is that book Haymitch is so chaotic (which matches the impulsive boy from SOTR well). I can never predict what book Haymitch might do. With movie Haymitch I know pretty well what he’ll do because his actions are mostly limited to: a) acting drunk in a funny way, b) dispensing wise advice about the Hunger Games, c) being a sarcastic asshole, or d) flirting with Effie Trinket.

Book Haymitch might do any of these things except for the flirting with Effie Trinket one. But there are also so many other possibilities. He might give you amazing insight into the Games. He might vomit on the carpet. He might fall into a depressive state where he’s of no use to anyone. He might be the only person who can fix your propo for you. He might tell you that Peeta is the best boy ever. He might punch Peeta in the face. He might insult Katniss. He might give Katniss a tender hug. He’s very unpredictable in a way that doesn’t come across in the movies.

Because the Seam and merchant divide is almost absent from the movies, we don’t get much if any impression of Haymitch being Seam. This is one of the main ways that Katniss connects to him in the books and it’s a huge part of his character. He’s so very Appalachian. Gone from the movies.

Do the movies even have the reveal that Snow killed Haymitch’s family and his girl? I don’t remember it, but it’s been a long time since I watched Mockingjay. I know they don’t really show his Quarter Quell. And I remember that they completely ruined that scene of Finnick’s revelations by interspersing it with action movie bullshit.

None of this is meant to be a criticism of Woody Harrelson, by the way. He does very well with the part as it is written. But book Haymitch just has so much more depth and is so much closer to SOTR Haymitch. I do sort of wonder how they are going to handle the SOTR movie because I can picture movie-only fans just thinking “what the fuck?” But for me, SOTR Haymitch works so well as a younger version of the Haymitch we see in the Hunger Games books.

[thecrashoutkid]

look i'm just saying if my man launched himself across a crashing plane to protect me from harm and gently float me to the ground on his CHEST no less proceed to deflect a bullet into my spine approximately twenty minutes later and take my sister, my main support system, with him as he dipped i'd become an alcoholic too

[m0thwinged]

im sick in the head

[coeur-de-fruk]

FRUK Week Day 3 - Pirates / Drunken Confession

@aphfrukweek

[djmanemihi]

This was my entry for one of the Shonen Jump World Wide Manga contests four years ago. Basically my first real attempt at professional manga using 100% digital artwork. I’ve come a long way since then I feel but I’m still super proud of it. Didn’t really get a lot of attention back then on my now-defunct accounts. So….blazing.

1/4

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk!Danny pt.5

If Danny hadn’t thought about quitting and going to rehab before, he’s definitely going to do it now.

It had been one of those days. Danny had sluggishly managed to usher Jason to school- pulling himself together for their walk to the building, because he wasn’t stupid and this was still Gotham- before going home and relapsing. He knew, going into the first bottle, that he was going to regret it. But he still hadn’t felt the buzz, so he went out to get more.

“Just one. I can stop after, if I want to.”

Spoiler: he could not, actually, stop if he wanted to. Because he didn’t want to, which was the whole problem.

So, one bottle became two, two became three, three became six, and by the time the sun slipped below the horizon, Danny had a pile of bottles scattered around the couch and an intense look of self hatred set upon his brow. He was buzzed, but his stupid ghost biology refused to absorb anymore alcohol.

“Stop brooding, Danny. It’ll hurt your brain.” Jazz said, a hint of worry around her joking insult. “You’re forgetting something important.”

“Wha-?” He mumbled out back at the haze of her-hah- ghost.

The door clicked open. Danny whipped his head to wards the door, snarl on his face and ready to lunge at the intruder, when he came face to face with a scuffed up Jason.

They froze simultaneously, but before Danny could do anything, Jason’s hands tightened on the door knob. The kid’s eyes darted to the floor, where the bottles laid, and back up at Danny’s face. What he found there must not have been good, because he took a step back.

It was fear.

Danny felt his heart drop and his throat go dry. The self hatred doubled in size and weight, but he smacked it down in favor of scrambling for the words- anything- to fix the damage his stupidity and addiction caused.

“Jason.” He said, voice raspy. Had he been screaming again? Good start, good- nope. Never mind, Jason is using the door to shield himself now. Danny glanced outside and-

“Oh. I- I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” He turned back to Jason, who eyed him warily. “I- I forgot to pick you, didn’t I.”

“…I can walk back by myself.” The hesitant but full of bravado reply made Danny’s ghostly obsession to protect rear its head.

“Still. I’m… I’m sorry, Jason.”

Jason evaluated him, noticeably eyeing his open hands and purposefully lax posture, before stepping inside. He doesn’t close the door behind him- clearly leaving it as an option just in case he needed to bolt. Danny stood up slowly. Jason watched him, and his hands. His smaller hands- Ancients, Danny was scaring a kid- curled up into fists.

“What… how did you get hurt?”

“Got mugged.”

“Are you okay? No- wait,” Danny flooded his liver and blood stream with ectoplasm, and his head instantly cleared. Ah, the agony of being coherent.

Danny subtly shook his head to clear his thoughts. Focus.

“Of course you’re not.” Danny stepped away from the incriminating bottles, slowing to a stop once more as Jason shifted backwards like he was either going to spring at Danny or bolt out the door. “Why don’t we get you patched up? And you can tell me about your day. That I missed, when I forgot to pick you up and that I’m really really sorry for.”

Danny held his breath as Jason considered it. “Are ya drunk?” Jason asked, tilting his shoulder to slide his Wonder Woman backpack down, hand clutching at the opposite strap. A good bludgeoning weapon, even if Danny would rather be electro shocked to death again before he ever hurt Jason.

“No.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, scoffing as he looked down again. Danny recognized the motion, a bolt of heavy nostalgia slamming into his chest as he remembered another red-head doing the same thing when he tried to bullshit his way out of something.

“I was buzzed but… I’m a meta. Alcohol doesn’t exactly affect me. I had to drink a lot to even get buzzed, and it’s gone now.”

“Y’er a meta?” Jason straightened, not completely losing the vigilance, but less tense.

“Yes. I’m completely sober right now, I promise.”

Jason stared at him, inhaled, and relaxed. “You better be.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Whatever.”

——

Danny placed the bandages over Jason’s cuts.

“I am so, so sorry I didn’t pick you up.”

Jason shoved at his shoulder, grumbling “I c’n do it myself.”

“I know. You don’t have to, though.”

The kid looked away for a moment before softly admitting, “I was… worried. Cuz, I thought somethin’ happened.”

Danny swallowed the lump in his throat. Jason slipped more into his alley accent the more upset he got these days, having learned some of the local accents at his new school and regularly swapping those out instead of sticking with his alley accent.

“Thank you. For worrying about me. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

Point. From the mouth of babes came the painful truth, right?

“No. I’m not. But I will be. I’ll go to rehab, Jason. I don’t want to forget picking you up again.”

“Whatever.” Danny hid a smile as Jason ducked his head, looking endearingly like a grumpy duckling. Like, Jazz, when their parents made those blueberry ectoplasm pancakes she liked but thought they’d forgotten that she liked.

“And thank you, Jason, for coming back alive. I- I should have been there, but I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

“I want waffles and ice cream for dinner.”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

“Wow, you musta felt real bad if you’re letting me eat that for dinner.”

Danny grinned down at the head of black hair (with their red roots once more poking out) and ruffled Jason’s head. “I let you eat like five chili dogs in one go. This should not be surprising. But I’ll let you skip the veggies today too.”

“… No, I want the veggies too.”

Danny let out a bark of bright laughter.

Yeah, there’s no way he’s ever risking Jason looking at him like that again. The kid looked like he thought Danny would come swinging at him, despite their previous meetings where he had, perhaps and with plausible deniability, swung for Jason, but never against him.

That night, after he tucked Jason into bed, Danny signed up for rehab. As a matter of fact, Jazz’s words coming into mind, Danny also signed up for therapy. For him and Jason. Yeah.

——

Off camera, they talked about why Jason react to bottles and hands the way he does, and why he’s so scared whenever Danny slips back into his addiction. I’m just rlly too tired to write it.

——

Danny, who thought his addiction wasn’t that serious and that he could stop anytime because he stopped for Jason: I’m cured!

Also Danny: drinks as soon as Jason goes to school

Danny was one hundred percent using Jason as a crutch and when he felt like Jason was safe, he slipped back to his habits. The only reason Danny’s not dead- well, deader than he normally would be- is because ghost biology makes it so that alcohol is cycled through quicker. Like the Flash, but less fast? Anyways, he had enough to make him lose track of time and forget important things (Jason) and that’s what addiction can do to you, amongst other things.

Jason might seem calm but that’s actually a combo of his go to trauma response (fight) and his experience of 1) being on the streets and 2) living with a previous drunkard coming into play. Also, you might be like what kind of kid wants to eat veggies? And to that I answer: KIDS THAT NEVER HAD ENOUGH TO EAT. I would have killed for a veggie stir fry with a lot of chicken back as a kid lol

On a lighter note, the whole time they’re having this interaction, I kind of imagined it as two chickens just kind of dancing around each other.

[guardian-angle22]

911 lone star -> prelude to Judd's struggles

[th3-k1d]

Something that always bothered me about Shane haters is how much they bash him for just being mentally ill.

"Oh, he's so mean to the player!" At first. It gets better when you start to befriend him. Do you not know how mentak health works?

"Hes so disgusting! He can't even pick up after himself!" The man has canonical depression.

"He drinks too much! It's icky!" Do you not know how an addiction works!?!

Same thing with Sebastian tbh, but I see it more in Shane than him bc gods forbid you be anything else than emo with addictions.

[starkerobsession]

Peter’s purity and innocence turns Tony on more than anything and he hates himself for it. The guilt overwhelms him to the point where he drinks and drinks to take his mind off the guilt but then finds himself having even dirtier thoughts about the boy in his drunken state, that most nights he ends up wanking to videos of Peter on his couch with a bottle in his hand, and passing out soon after. And then the next morning, the guilt eats away at him so he does it all over again, becoming a vicious cycle.

[the-epic-amphinomus]

”Amphinomus…”

-@the-true-telemachus

Telemachus.

[quackity-rp-blog]

***-***-**** >> Alaska: You’re alive?

***-***-**** >> Alaska: You better FUCKING explain right now

***-***-**** >> Alaska: I ALMOST SHOT MYSELF, ALASKA.

-@schlatt-is-president

Alaska >> ***-***-***: "I'm so sorry Oves."

Alaska >> ***-***-***: "We're horrible for each other, I wanted you to move on."

Alaska >> ***-***-***: "But I haven't. I can't stop drinking. I've started smoking our supply. I can't take it."

[uhhlifeig]

Arrow - Feb. 8th - word count: 209 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Remus felt as if an arrow had shot him in the chest, lodging in his sternum.

James and Lily were dead. 

And Sirius was the one who betrayed them.

“Black was their Secret Keeper,” Kingsley had said apologetically. “I’m sorry, Remus.”

Remus didn’t want to believe it. There was no way that Sirius- his Sirius- had sold out James, or Lily, or Harry.

Except Sirius wasn’t his anymore, now was he? Maybe he never was Remus’s.

Maybe it was all just a ruse.

And not only had Black killed two people, he had killed thirteen more- including Peter Pettigrew. 

Blown to smithereens, the Prophet had said.

Black’s mugshot was on the front page, too. A deranged looking man, holding his serial runes and laughing maniacally at the camera. 

He was nothing like the Sirius that Remus had known, back in Hogwarts. 

Maybe this was the real Sirius. Maybe everything that Remus had known and loved about him was fake.

But Remus still loved him. 

And oh, wasn’t that a tragedy in itself?

But Sirius was never his.

It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense anymore. 

Remus reached for the bottle next to him. 

The amber-colored liquid inside sloshed invitingly.

Tilting his head back mournfully, he drank.

He was alone.

@estellethewriter youre being fed :D

[schemmentisimpasours]

Monster In My Head: Chap 2- Good Stuff

Only gifs by @babytakeittothehead in this house 🫡

This was supposed to be Simping for Schemmenti Tuesday but my brain was not ready for smut when I wanted to rip my ovaries out. So angst instead cause @milfjuulpod said I have been in my angst era. 😅

Masterlist

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Summary: There were two things holding Melissa Schemmenti together: You and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Now that you were walking away from her Melissa finds her way to the bottom of the bottle. Flashbacks all in italics.

Warnings: Alcoholism, Major alcohol consumption, flashbacks, abusive relationship, All angst... for the next nine chapters. Buckle in

Lyrics: Good Stuff by Griff

Oh, I try to rewind

Every scene in my mind

And for you, I've got tunnel vision

And I've blocked out every collision

And in another life, yeah

Do me a favour and try

To leave me broken and bitter

So moving on's a little quicker

Playlist (songs for the next nine chapters are also in here. Just for a little insight):

It took Melissa too long to realize that she should have run after you. That she was sorry and should have told you that you were perfect exactly the way you are. Instead, she was too caught up in the one good memory from this patch of grass that she could cling to.

It was the first time that she had ever kissed you. The tension between the two of you had been slowly building for weeks, starting to unravel in small ways, not to scare you away. It had started with Melissa bringing your favorite tea every morning, which she handed to you with a smile always finding some way to compliment you. Your hair, your shirt, your shoes, how you had taught the day before, whatever she could think of. During lunch, she asked you to try her creamy Italian mashed potato recipe, which turned into eating with her and Barbara every day. She supplied you with food every time, telling you that she always had enough when in fact she was making extra just in case. Then she started walking you to your car after school to catch up on how your day was. The one time that you had lost your balance, Melissa had grabbed your arm to catch you and held your hand the rest of the way. Ever since then, she held your hand until she opened the car door for you and watched you pull out of the parking lot safely. Today, the sun was twinkling in your eyes, and she had to stop you, unable to wait any longer.

You looked at her curiously as she stopped mid-sentence, “Mel what are you doing?”

She didn’t let anyone call her that but you. The first time it had fallen from your lips, it had melted her heart, and she knew that no one else could pale in comparison to the way you made it sound. She looked at your eyes and then down at your lips and back up at you again. When she saw the blush cross your cheeks, she leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to your mouth. You moaned, and Melissa found her new favorite sound. The kiss seemed to last for an eternity before she pulled away and placed her forehead against yours.

“Can I take you on a date, hun?” She asked, still trying to catch her breath.

“Yes, as long as it includes more kissing,” You laughed, and Melissa squeezed your hand, trying to seal this moment in her brain.

It was the happiest she had been in years, and watching you pull out of the parking lot that day, she knew that she was looking at a brighter future than she ever thought was possible.

A loud crack of thunder pulled her from the memory, and she scrambled from her spot on the grass. She ran to the front doors, throwing them open, and almost ran face-first into Ava.

“Shit sorry,” Melissa said stepping to the side slipping in a large puddle of water.

She grabbed onto the wall nails, digging in for purchase as Ava laughed, “Can’t believe you and your little cannoli did the same thing. But for real Red. Stop dragging water into my school. You are creating more work for Mr. Johnson. It is just disrespectful.”

“Ava, just drop it. Where did Y/N go?”

“How am I supposed to know? She came in crying and then took off,” Ava shrugged, “I am not her keeper. That is your job.”

“It used to be,” Melissa whispered and then went off towards your classroom.

Your lights were already off, and your things were missing from your desk. Melissa slammed her fist into the wall, cursing under her breath. Another opportunity had passed her by to chase you down and tell her what was really on her mind. She was doing everything wrong, and it was starting to cost her. The only thing she could hope for was that you were safe from the storm and the anxiety it brought you.

She doubled over with the pain that radiated through her body. Like a swift gut punch, she could feel herself cracking. Everything she had been holding up for so long was coming down, crashing around her. Her mind was filled with all the insecurities that had been held at bay. Usually controlled by a mixture of liquid courage and your undeniable presence and reassurance in her life. Now there was nothing left but the knowledge that she was a failure. Taking everything good in her life and smashing it till it crumbled like ash.

With a swift punch, the head of the cardboard ninja came flying off its body and onto the floor. Melissa straightened her jacket and went back into her classroom. Pushing down the anxiety and the tears, she knew that she just had to make it ten more minutes before she could release her little eagles upon the gym and have a moment to herself. She planned to cry for a moment in the darkness of her room, but when she came back, you were perched on her desk holding the ninja’s head.

“This your handiwork?” You asked with a concerned expression crossing your face.

“He was looking at me funny,” Melissa shrugged, but you knew better.

You always knew better when it came to Melissa. Reading her in a way that not even Barb had mastered. It was like all of the walls Melissa had placed around her to keep others out were merely windows to you. It should have scared her to have someone who was not phased by the typical Schemmenti spikes, but she couldn’t be scared of you. Not when you looked at her with those eyes that seemed to say that you would always catch her. No matter how hard or much she broke that you would pick up her pieces bit by bit. It was one of the things that she loved most about you.

“Come here baby,” You said, reaching your arms out to her.

And the second Melissa was encircled in your arms she let herself cry. Not like she needed to because part of her would never fully allow herself to open up. Too afraid that letting go too much would make it so she was unable to pull it back together in the time that she had left before her class returned. But she let go just enough to release the stress of the moment and find some peace in your words.

“You are an amazing teacher, baby. One of the absolute best, no one doubts that. But this is a lot and would be for anyone. You need help. No one is going to think any less of you for asking for a teacher’s aide. All that matters is that you are putting your best foot forward for your eagles and baby, this isn’t it. You know that,” You said, rubbing her back.

The memory was fleeting as a towel was placed on her shoulder. She could have jumped, and she felt her body stiffen at the touch, but she contained herself and looked to see Ava. Melissa’s movements were always calculated and controlled, never letting anyone see her out of place.

“Dry off and get out Red,” Ava said, but there was no harshness in her voice, and Melissa wondered if she could also see how close she was to falling apart.

Melissa didn’t respond to afraid her voice would crack from the effort of keeping herself contained. She just made her way back to her own classroom, pulling the towel around her. Closing the door behind her, she changed into the extra set of clothes that she kept for emergencies and gathered her things. The rain had barely let up as she made her way to her car. It felt as if the world was a reflection of how Melissa felt. And she knew that she couldn’t go back to her house with the glass still covering her kitchen floor, a constant reminder of everything she had failed to do and say. So instead, she drove to the bar nearby to find a way to ease this pain that was eating her from the inside out.

-

Janine stood in the living room of your apartment as you threw down your teaching stuff, making your way to the laundry room and slipping the wet clothes inside the washer. She looked at all the pictures of you and Melissa that had become mixed in with your usual decor. The way that you always seemed to have this twinkle in your eye when you were with the older woman. A smile that seemed just a little bit bigger than usual. How Melissa always seemed to have a piece of her body touching yours, a softness to her usual edge that made her seem even more angelic. The two of you seemed to have completed each other, and it hurt Janine to know that the world was now trying to pull you two apart.

“Are you sure about this whole break thing Y/N? Whatever happened between you and Melissa, I am sure that you can work it out,” Janine called down the hallway.

You peeked your head around the corner, “Janine, can we please just drop it for right now? It’s been a day, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But we are eventually going to have to talk about it. I am not going to sit here and let you disappear like you did with Kylee. Not again.”

You came out in a pair of pajama shorts and one of Melissa’s shirts that you had sworn you were going to wash but hadn’t gotten around to it yet. It still smelled like her in the best way- a little bit of vanilla, a touch of whiskey, and the lightest faint of cigarette smoke. Right now, it brought just enough comfort to cloak your breaking heart. Deep down, a break from your relationship had been the last thing that you wanted, but the events of the previous night still circled in your mind. Old flashbacks combined with new ones left you wondering where you even were.

“Kylee please, I am sorry. It was just an accident,” You said, looking at the broken glass on the floor. You had sunken to your knees immediately trying to pick it up.

“It is always just an accident with you,” She spat back, “When are you ever going to pay damn attention for once.”

Her words hurt, but not as much as the plate that you heard wiz by your ear, causing you to scramble away from her, “You act like if none of this stuff matters to you. Do you know how much money I spent on all of this?”

Another glass shattering on the floor, forcing you further back into the living room to try and get away, “Please stop. I didn’t mean it. It was an accident.”

“Do you ever mean to do anything you stupid bitch?” Kylee said, advancing on you as you sank to the floor behind the couch, trying to hide.

You braced for the hit that never came and instead were standing in Melissa’s kitchen, her hand smacking the counter. You flinched, your body recoiling away as the fire in her eyes burned you.

“You know if you are really that scared you should just leave,” She spat, and for the first time, you saw the monster that Melissa kept at bay under alcohol. The alcohol she swore that you didn’t know about, but that you had confided in Barbara, was becoming a problem. One that was spiraling out of control.

“Y/N,” Janine said, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You jumped, cursing at how skittish you were, but Janine didn’t shy away. She was used to you needing a moment to come back to your body. It would have been fine if it weren’t for the loud clap of thunder that shook your apartment. You immediately hugged Janine, trying to calm your already frayed nerves.

“I fucking hate thunderstorms,” You whispered.

“You still got the Janine shelf?” She asked, moving to your hall closet, where she pulled out a pair of her pajamas.

She never fit in any of your clothes, always falling off her small frame, so there was a shelf dedicated just to her. You knew what she was doing without her even asking. Spending another night with you so that you do not have to be alone, drowning in the past and present. You could have told her to go, and you knew she would have gone, but part of you knew that you couldn’t be alone. Not with all of this weighing down on you and the storm raging outside your windows.

When she came back out of the bathroom, you threw her a blanket to get comfortable on the couch, “I am not talking about it tonight.”

“And I will accept that response if you eat something,” She said back, and you narrowed your eyes.

“Touche bitch touche,” You replied and Janine laughed.

Thirty minutes later, a box of pizza was open on the coffee table as a movie played in the background. You ate enough to keep Janine happy, and when she drifted off to sleep, you crawled into your bed, burying your head into the pillow Melissa always used. You dreamed of some alternative universe where this had never happened, and you could be curled against her instead. One where she rubbed your back and told you that you were going to be okay through the storm that raged outside and in your head.

-

Melissa didn’t know how many drinks she had; all she knew was that the pain had become a dull ache. One that was more manageable. Replaying all of the good memories in her head, she wished that she could be left broken and bitter. That maybe it would help and make her want you back a little bit less. She was stirring the remnants of her most recent drink when a man slotted himself next to her.

“Can I get you another one, gorgeous?” He asked, leaning in closer than Melissa would have liked.

“The only person I let buy me drinks is my girlfriend,” She said, which had become her response ever since she started dating you.

The man looked around the bar, “Where is she? I don’t mind a third.”

The rage filled in Melissa as she slammed her glass on the counter, “I don’t share. Now get lost asshole.”

“I am starting to think that this girlfriend of yours isn’t real,” He commented undeterred.

Melissa went to stand but lost her balance, and the man grabbed her arm, “Get off me.”

The command was weak, but it was all she could manage, the alcohol finally hitting her system. The man seemed to smirk at the redhead’s inability to put up more of a fight before someone stepped between him and Melissa.

“She said get off her,” Gregory growled, “Now get the fuck out.”

The man put his hands up in surrender, “Old bitch isn’t worth this much drama. Her coochie probably dried up anyways. ”

The words cut like they always did when someone pointed out Melissa was getting older. She thought she had gotten used to it, but today it just felt like another brick dragging her under. Once Gregory was sure the man had gone, he turned to her.

“Melissa, you know that isn’t true,” He paused, trying to feel out the awkwardness around him.

“No, he was right. I am old and a bitch,” Melissa said trying to stand again. As she fell, Gregory wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her up.

“Coochie part was wong until today,” She sighed as he paid her tab and started for the door, “I was so happy and so fucking in love but too scared to say anything about it. Waiting for everything to be perfect, but now instead we are on a break. I’m gonna be dried up soon. Dried up lonely old bitch who hurt the love of her life.”

Gregory tried to collect the information being thrown at him while carrying Melissa towards the door, “What happened with Y/N?”

“I traumatized her, just like that bitch she used to date and I didn’t run after her. Why didn’t I run after her?” Melissa was crying as Gregory loaded her into the front seat of his car.

“Sometimes it is hard to say or do the things we need to do in the pressure of the moment. I am sure that you can talk it out with her tomorrow,” He said, buckling the older woman in.

“I don’t know Gregory I think I fucked up this time,” Melissa said closing her eyes to steady herself as the world began to spin, “My drinking isn’t helping either.”

“You had a bad night,” He said, but Melissa cut him off.

“This is more than just one night of bad drinking. I have a problem that I thought I could keep under control, but now I am not so sure,” Melissa admitted, “I don’t remember the last time I could handle something without a bottle of Jack to keep me company.”

The words hung in the air as Gregory pulled into Melissa’s driveway. Unsure how to comfort her, he asked, “Would you give it all up to get her back?”

“Yes,” Melissa said instantly, but started to cry again, “I would give up everything if it meant that Y/N would open that door and tell me it was all going to be okay. But I don’t know how to be me without it.”

“You will find her,” Gregory said, “You are the strongest person I know, Melissa.”

“I don’t think I want to be strong anymore,” Melissa sighed as Gregory led her up the porch into the house.

Melissa didn’t fight Gregory as he pulled off her boots and grabbed clothes for her to change into. They were Y/N’s clothes that had been left on the bed, but Melissa didn’t mind. For when Gregory went to get her some water and leave her to change, Melissa held the shirt to her nose and smelled you. A mixture of laundry beads and strawberries filled her nose as she curled underneath the covers. She allowed Gregory to help her drink some water and take pills to help her headache that was starting to form. As she leaned against her pillows, she began to look frantically around.

“Wait, where is my Jalen?” She asked frantically, pulling at the sheets.

Gregory leaned down, picking up a teddy bear with a Philadelphia Eagles logo on its belly and game day face paint. Melissa took it eagerly, curling it against her chest. She pressed the paw and your voice filled the quiet. Goodnight baby, sleep well and I will see you soon. With a quiet hum she fell asleep in a drunken haze.

-

Taglist:

@yoyo-w

@cupldscntrl

@milfslvr

@liliapleasesteponme

@milfjuulpod

[thatisaloaf]

Man, I love being drunk so much!!!! *blacks out on the floor and dies of alcohol poisoning*

I just listened to the song and WOW its so clearly before the newer albums but i love it

[djmanemihi]

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