#alcoholism imp /

[xsilversugar]

I just thought this ‘lil guy was a delight. He deserves to live forever the lil shit. I took more than my fair share of some liberties with the design description I’m sure.

[impishtubist]

double date

Behold, the dumbest thing I have ever written. I inflicted this on a handful of Discord pals a while back, but you know what? Everyone should be made to suffer from my terrible writing 😂

-------

“Padfoot, calm down.” Remus lays a hand on Sirius’s, stopping him from further shredding his empty straw wrapper. 

“I am calm.”

“Mate, you’re literally vibrating.” James is sitting on Sirius’s other side, and he puts a hand on Sirius’s knee, stilling his bouncing leg. “It’s just Regulus.”

“Just Regulus?” Sirius hisses. “I haven’t seen him since I was seventeen, James! This isn’t just Regulus, this is huge!”

“I know,” Remus says soothingly. “But you being a nervous wreck isn’t going to make this any easier.”

Sirius sags a bit in his seat. “I want this to go well, Moony.” 

“It will. This was his idea, after all. That’s promising, isn’t it?”

“S’pose so.” Sirius straightens in his seat, brightening a little. “Think it’s a good sign that he wants to introduce me to his boyfriend, too.” 

“It was sweet of him to suggest a double date,” Remus says, casting James a significant look. James shrugs, unapologetic.

“Like I’m going to pass up a chance to see Baby Black and his boyfriend,” he says cheerfully. “What do you think? Think Reggie’s dating a Muggle?”

Sirius’s entire face lights up, and he cackles. “A Muggle! Oh, Prongs, that’d be brilliant. Might put Mother in an early grave, too.” 

The door opens then, and Regulus steps into the pub. Sirius goes completely still, eyes wide, so Remus raises a helpful hand to flag him down. Regulus catches sight of them, and hesitates for a moment before making his way over to their table. He’s followed by a tall man with long black hair and--

Snape.

It’s Snape. 

Regulus is dating Severus fucking Snape.

The waiter appears at their table at the same time Regulus and Snape do. Remus raises his hand.

“Five Firewhiskeys, please,” he says while James and Sirius openly gape at the newcomers. The waiter smiles politely.

“A round for the table, then?”

“Oh, no, those are all for me.” 

The waiter departs, and Regulus pulls out the chair across from Sirius. Snape’s eyes flick between James and Remus, and he eventually chooses the seat across from Remus. Remus gives him his biggest, most wolfish grin, and Snape quickly looks away. 

“Brother,” Regulus says. 

“Reggie,” Sirius squeaks. “What the fuck--”

Remus digs his fingers into Sirius’s thigh. “What Sirius means is, it’s great to see you.” 

“Yeah,” Sirius says, his voice only slightly strangled. “Yeah, Reggie, it’s great to see you. Thanks…thanks for suggesting this. And for bringing your, um.” 

“Fiance,” Regulus says.

“Fiance?” Sirius and James burst out, looking horrified. 

“That’s great, Regulus,” Remus says through gritted teeth, kicking Sirius under the table. “Isn’t it?”

James recovers first. “Yeah, it’s--that’s great. Love is…great.” 

Sirius draws a deep breath, visibly pulling himself together. “I’m really happy for you, Regulus. Shall we, um, decide what to order?”

The waiter returns with Remus’s Firewhiskeys, takes their food orders, and goes off again. Sirius clears his throat.

“So, um, Severus,” he says, and the name sounds like it only pains him a little to say, “what is it you do?”

“I’m the Potions Master at Hogwarts,” Snape says. Remus cringes inwardly--those poor students--and knocks back his first shot. 

“What about you, Regulus?” he asks.

“I’m--”

“Regulus doesn’t work,” Snape cut in. 

“Doesn’t work?” Sirius repeats.

“He doesn’t need to.” 

“That’s right,” Regulus says. “I’m…taking care of the household.” 

“But you wanted to be a potioneer,” James says, and he sounds pained.

Regulus stares at him. “You remember that?”

“‘Course I remember it,” James says quietly. “Thought you’d be brilliant at it. You wanted to open a shop in Diagon Alley and everything. What happened?”

“Oh, er, nothing. It’s just…not really for me.”

“That doesn’t sound like you at all.”  

The tension at the table increases tenfold. Remus takes a second shot. 

“If that makes you happy, Reggie, I support it,” Sirius says abruptly. “It…sounds great. Staying home and…looking after Severus’s…things.” 

“I’m a trophy husband, too,” Remus says with a wink. “I have no complaints.” 

Regulus gives him a tight smile. “Yes, I’m sure I’ll…get used to it.” 

“He’ll take care of the children, too,” Snape says, and Remus chokes on his third shot. 

“When the time comes,” Regulus says hastily, patting Snape’s arm. 

“I think you’ll be singing a different tune on our wedding night,” Snape purrs, and Remus grabs Sirius’s wrist before he can draw his wand. 

“Yes, when is the wedding?” he asks.

“This summer,” Snape says. “That leaves us with plenty of time to ensure that he’s with child by the time term begins.” 

“What, you’re going to knock him up and then leave him?” James asks. 

“Yes, we agreed that was best,” Regulus says.

“If it makes you happy,” Sirius says again, though this time it’s through gritted teeth.

“Indeed. There’s no need for me to be around for…the unpleasantness of pregnancy,” Snape says, waving a hand. 

“Raising children is very, um, rewarding,” Remus says quickly, while Sirius makes a noise like a wounded animal. The room’s getting a bit blurry, and he feels very light. 

“Rewarding, yeah,” Sirius says in a high-pitched voice. He clears his throat. “R-right, Jamie?”

“Yep, yeah, greatest thing I’ve ever done. I love staying home with Haz,” James says. “‘Specially now that I only have him half the time.” 

Regulus’s eyes snap to James. “You broke up with Evans?”

James blinks. “Er, yeah. Divorced about a year ago. We’ve been doing the whole co-parenting thing and it’s going really well, though.” 

Light pink dusts Regulus’s cheeks, and--oh.

Oh, that would make sense. That would make so much sense. How had he missed it?

Remus grabs his fourth shot and polishes it off. He then raises the fifth shot and says, “A toast!” 

“A toast?” Regulus, James, and Sirius echo.

“To the happy couple.” Remus pushes Sirius’s glass at him, water sloshing over the sides. “C’mon, Pads. Toast your brother and his--and his happiness.” 

Sirius lifts his glass, looking like he’s swallowed something sour. “Er--right. To Regulus and Sn-Severus. May you, um…” 

“Have a very happy life together,” James jumps in when Sirius falters. 

“Right, that. And…love one another forever?”

“And be fruitful and multiply,” Remus says cheerfully.

Now it’s Regulus’s turn to look like he’s tasted something bitter, but Snape practically leers. 

“Oh, we will,” he says, leaning in to kiss Regulus.

Bang!

Snape is thrown out of his chair and crashes into the wall behind him, cracking his head on the bricks before landing in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

“James!” Sirius exclaims in outrage.

“It wasn’t me!” James protests.

“It was me,” Regulus says with a sniff. “Honestly. The nerve of him. I told him I wanted to wait until the wedding night.” 

Remus hands his last Firewhiskey shot to Regulus, who downs it without blinking. 

“You’re not in love with Snape,” he says, and Regulus pulls a face.

“Of course I’m not.” 

“Then why did you tell me you were bringing your boyfriend to meet us!” Sirius demands. 

“Because it’s what people do, Sirius,” Regulus says. 

“What people?”

“People who are meeting their estranged brother and his husband for the first time in years!” Regulus sighs. “I can’t go on a double date with my brother if I don’t have a date.” 

“Wait, did you--did you pretend to date Snape and then get engaged to him just so you would have a reason to reach out to me?”

“Well, he didn’t think it was pretend.” Regulus sniffs again. “I’m very convincing, you know.” 

“You didn’t--”

Regulus’s lip curls. “Of course not. I told him I was a virgin and waiting for our wedding night. I should probably be insulted by how easily he bought that. Potter, what are you doing over there?”

James blinks at him. “What?”

“This is a double date, isn’t it?” Regulus gestures at the now-empty chair next to him. “I need a date.” 

“Oh!” James scrambles over to the other side of the table. “Right, of course. Hello.” 

“Hello.”

“You look amazing, you know.”

Regulus blushes. “Yes, you’ve been staring at me since I sat down. Awfully rude of you, with my fiance right there.”

James looks pained. “He’s not your fiance anymore, is he?”

“Merlin, no.”

“What,” Sirius whispers to Remus, “is happening right now?”

Remus pats his shoulder. “I think the wedding is still on.”

“Different groom, though, right?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

[danafeelingsick]

Emetophile K.aeya Headcanons

warning: these are suggestive! contains emeto and descriptions of vomit, mentions of alcohol. n.sfw hcs will be under the cut!

K.aeya had been into puke pretty much since the first time he's gotten himself drunk. He loves feeling nauseous, be it for being too full, or too drunk, the danger of throwing up out of nowhere is exciting.

Kaeya doesn't usually drink to the point of vomiting, he has enough self-control and, well, a reputation to uphold as the cavalry captain. Whenever he goes to the tavern, be it on a date, or an outing with friends or coworkers, there is always a part of him that is secretly hopeful he will end up drinking himself to the point of feeling sick and someone who happens to have the same kink will love to take care of him.

Insisting he drinks water, and accidentally giving him too much of it, sugesting he eats even though both of them know he won't be able to keep it down. Urging him to empty his stomach because he will feel so much better afterwards, then helping him get it all up, either with fingers or belly stimulation, thoroughly enjoying the mess he is making.

Kaeya likes, and often needs, to have his hair held for him when he pukes. It is long enough to get in way of almost anything, but he almost never has it properly tied, or a hair tie on him, for that matter.

Despite all that, Kaeya dislikes hangovers as much as the next guy. Headaches only get in the way of him feeling horny while nauseous, and the food doesn't exactly have the same effect when he can't even taste it properly. The worst part of it is that he is yet to find someone to stay with him past a one-night stand. Kaeya has also, more than once thrown up in his sleep, and he hasn't enjoyed that at all.

What Kaeya loves the most is the sounds someone's very full stomach makes when they are right about to puke. That sound of liquid rushing up someone's throat, the watery puke almost tearing through. He also loves the panting and groaning they would make between bouts, the short but almost euphoric moan of relief they let out when the stomach lightens. The sound of heavy breathing echoing inside the toilet bowl. Kaeya isn't sure which is the best: the built-up or the release, but he surely does love seeing someone trying to deny the inevitable.

For him the best texture is watery but lumpy. The mixture of alcohol with barely digested bar food, heavy and greasy, all mixed into small bites littered through a puddle of puke. That might be the most common thing he has had to spew. He tries not to let it show too much, but whenever he finds one of those, he is excited to guess what did this person eat to produce the splatter, thinking about the food coming up and how it might've looked before.

mentions of oral sex ahead! (i rarely write anything smut so please be gentle with me 😭)

Messy sloppy blowjobs! He loves getting to fuck someone's throat until they puke all over him. He might get too carried away, and end up being a little rough (consensually!). Holding his partner's head down as he pumps his load down their throat.

After all that though, he is the most lovely caretaker you will meet.

[candy2021]

Day 11 of 25 days of gifts!

This is Monroe! @brush_of_chaos ‘s Drag Queen character!

I had a lot of fun drawing him!

[spotlightstudios]

Okay, but like... why is he so fun to draw???

I lied. I know why. It's cuz he's Fizz-Shaped, obviously. But, regardless, I really wanted to do a few more things with him, so here's some more Baddie.

Decided I wouldn't color this one, keep it monochrome, besides the eyes :3

Wips^

Plus, sneak-peek of the next page over!

[impgarden]

God, I REALLY don't think you should be having both at once

[publicabsent]

small drabble under here. warnings include: implied spousal abuse, physical violence, gendered language, mentions of alcoholism, death. <3

things have been normal. perhaps that, in itself, might have warned the medium that such smooth waters precede a violent storm. but normalcy is intoxicating, & leads to complacency.

the task was simple – deliver the books to the addresses, picking up any that are due, nothing complex. nothing she hasn’t done plenty of times before. (except now, complacency bleeds into carelessness, & she’s misread an address.) nothing strange till the last house. the roof of it sags, shingles missing in small patches. the lawn is somehow both brown & overgrown. the door, a light, cheap wood, sits crooked between two luan-covered windows. annette hesitates before knocking, a brief chill running down her spine.

that was her one & only warning.

delicate knuckles rap on the door, which easily opens without a sound.

“h - he-hello … ? i’m fr-from the l-li—“

a sickeningly familiar cold freezes her lungs solid as the gravelly, slurred voice of a man interrupts her.

“well, well, well. look-y who’s come crawlin’ back. surprised t’see me, ava?”

like a prey animal, annette freezes as one large ghostly arm wraps around her waist, the smell of cheap booze & decay flooding her senses. delicate frame braces itself for whatever may come next, dread stiffening bone, when she’s roughly cuffed on the back of her head & released, careening forward onto the ground. she lands with a smack, palms & knees bearing the impact.

“that’s fer leavin’ me —”

one large grubby hand jerks her up by her hair, pulling a strangled cry from the girl. now she sees the face of this spirit – distorted by anger, seemingly eaten in places by the vermin of the house. he wears a puke-stained shirt & stands so big, a hulking terror in both life & death.

an open-handed slap to freckled face disrupts her thoughts, rattling her skull.

“i-i — s-sir, i … i’m n-not —”

“shut up, you lyin’ bitch! that w’s fer lettin’ me die.”

“bu - b-but i —”

putrid hand clamps around her jaw, squeezing just tight enough to be a warning. annette closes her eyes, hoping the man at least kills her quickly.

he instead begins ranting.

his drunken ramblings are lost on the medium, interjected only with hits or shakes. he says something about losing a job, about ava’s family, something about children, all half-intelligible. he interrupts himself every so often to toss the girl to the floor, stomping at her while screaming for her to listen. he manages to catch her once or twice with his feet, though she’s hardly aware. she is far away. her mind is somewhat safer, imagining her small nook of her attic. the spirit continues to shout, striking the living girl when deemed necessary.

one sharp hit — large knuckles to fragile cheekbone, jolting her back into the present — elicits a soft whimper of a response.

“i-i … m’n-n—” she can hardly speak, her stutter working in distorted tandem with her busted, swollen lip. annette figures she must be crying, though she can’t tell. her weak attempts at speech are clipped short by two hands clamping viciously around her throat, the force pushing her harshly again a moldy wall.

“y’think i wanna hear one goddamn word outta yer mouth? shove those fuckin’ excuses aside. yer a coward! a weak, pathetic little bitch! f’you couldn’ handle me, y’shouldn’t’ve married me!”

his grip was growing tighter. it’d leave bruises, she’s sure. thin hands & short nails scrabble at the half-there hands, hoping to loosen the vice grip on her throat. the dead man continues shouting, his voice louder & the louder as his hands tighten, thumbs digging into her pulse points. the volley of foul insults never stops, even when the pressure on her neck vanishes & she collapses to the floor.

the voice, now disembodied, feels almost inside her ears, screaming obscenities at ava, who would never hear them. the small, somehow still-living girl shakily climbs to her feet, favoring one side greatly. her right ankle, clearly a victim of his stomping fits, is bulbous & a sickeningly dark purple. her every breath wheezes, but she limps out of the now-empty doorframe. his voices still screams in her mind for months.

she wears scarves to hide the slow-to-fade handprints round her throat.

she wraps her ankle.

she wakes in the night, screaming and clutching her chest.

& as always, she tells no one.

[cruddycurls]

My lil imp sona gal

[hemopseudo]

im at the club (my hive) popping pills (vitamins to keep my bones healthy) anD Downing bottles (water to keep me hyDrateD)

[samlssms]

Pinback button of my Grinlin, Fungi!

[impishtubist]

drop the cocktail recipe 👀

I'm SO boring, but like. I like making cocktails the way I like making meals: I don't. Cooking sucks and so does making drinks. So I have pineapple juice and rum and I'm just pouring them into a glass in random amounts. No art, no measuring, just vibes.

[danafeelingsick]

I see your Kaeya emetoph!le HCs and I raise you… Kaveh. His passive is legit “heals from his pain”, AND he canonically gets drunk every other day despite being a lightweight? It would make sense to me heheh 👀

as much as i love Kaveh, i haven't drawn him as anything other than miserable yet. that man just looks so good crying 💀

that being said, yeah i think he enjoy it a little bit, specially the caretaking part (shockers, it's my favorite so it has to be every character's too) i don't have many hcs of him but i can totally see him eating some extra greasy food to make up for the alcohol, and then overdoing it anyway. then vomiting down the front of his shirt, or on Alhaitham trying to carry him home.

[sillysmuttyputty]

Crime rats moodboard💚💲🔪

[wormycomic]

[stcries]

with the feline demon constantly drinking his favoured liquor, rare was it that he was never not tipsy at the very least. yet thanks to hell's little princess trying to upkeep the hotel's pure image, he'd remained dry in terms of alcohol for the last day or so. how was he fairing it? about as well as you could imagine. arms lay crossed upon a nearby table, chin resting upon them as ears flicker about at the nearby movements.

"ngh, bar's closed today, get someone else to fix your shit for you ..." the words come out as grumbles beneath his breath, large red brows furrowed in response to the headache ravaging his temples, burying his face further into his paws.

@hannah-the-small, starter call.

[catboii]

If you're drinking make sure you eat something.

are u volunterring bc