#drunk skull

[freedarte]

Bone Head, taking some drinks

"Cuando esta trabajondo con este dibujo mi hija intento ayudar me con sus rallones de crayola ."

When I was drawing this pices my daughter trying to help me ... it the crayon scribble

Material are water colo, ink, crayon and pencil.

[eerieeccentrix]

[weirdlookindog]

“Drunk Skeletons”

© Vlad Gradobyk

[asmolbirb]

“Did you know,” Laurence muses, once they’ve retired to the library, and the port has been poured, and they’re both poring over their respective correspondence, which they might focus on wholly were the conversation to dwindle, as it often does in the ease of these evenings. “—Did you know, today marks half a century—since my birth.”

Tharkay’s gaze flickers up; returns to the letter in his hands.

“I find myself reflecting,” continues Laurence, his eyes trained on the parchment in his own grasp, though the ink upon it refuses to coalesce into words, “that I have spent longer as an aviator than as a man of the navy.”

“In a sense only,” rebukes Tharkay, albeit mildly. “The Aerial Corps has had no claim to you for quite some time; nor has Temeraire answered to any formation, or the whims of any but himself. Notwithstanding, perhaps—“ this, an afterthought— “those whims of Parliament, mercurial as they are.”

Laurence hums, distracted. His next words have to fight through a sudden reluctance: “It would gall the child I once was, to know who I’d become.” And then, in a rush, “Yet I cannot regret it. Any of it: for in turn I gained a clarity of understanding that would have been inaccessible to me otherwise.”

Tharkay says nothing, only waits for Laurence to continue, and to reach the core of the thing he’s grappling with.

“I find myself facing another score and some years stretching out ahead of me,” Laurence says finally, “and the inevitability of some new revelation which must await, poised to cleave my understanding of the world in twain once more. I rather fear I could not bear it. I fear I am grown too old, too accustomed to my daily rituals and comforts, to again perform that reconstruction of my paradigm of reality which I undertook upon meeting Temeraire, and upon meeting you.”

Again Tharkay meets these words with silence; but when it becomes clear no more is forthcoming, he says gently, “I can well imagine how the myriad affronts to your morals which you faced in the War have embittered you toward complacency. Yet I am of the belief that predicting, even with utmost accuracy, the shape of tomorrow will not in the least stop it from coming.” He sets his correspondence aside and stretches a hand out to Laurence. “Come, Will,” he murmurs. “It is late, and the world has a tendency to cloak itself in sinister shadows at this hour. Let us retire; let any new revelations meet us in the light of day, where they may be thoroughly examined— where we may formulate an adequate response together.”

For a moment, Laurence’s instincts scream in protest: a lifetime of being relied upon to meet any obstacle with confidence and immediacy is not so easily sloughed off the shoulders. But Tharkay is right. The challenges of tomorrow will demand to be met whether or not Laurence successfully anticipates them tonight; and meanwhile, Tharkay’s hand stretches out before him, more tangible than any of the years he has yet to live, any obstacle he is yet to encounter. With a sharp exhale, Laurence stands, and places his hand in Tharkay’s, and lets Tharkay pull him to bed.

[cage-cat-yt]

Will reblog to get in the last few emotes buuut

The living tombstone cast as creatures (I.D in alt, part 1/2)

Most of these are headcanon, but there's also other hcs for them, such as Bipolar DG and OCD Tesla. But y'know they're all cuties :3 Sam Haft please notice me/lh

[gameraboy2]

"Don't Mix 'Em" by Robert Lachenmann, 1936

[aheckinmess]

Chapter 1/? of Top Shelf, a bartender Sukuna AU that was inspired by someone on Instagram (@pikkufrog). It started out as my take on bartender Sukuna and has gradually devolved into a fic idea. Since I finished chapter 1, I figured I'd post it.

Read on AO3.

Tags: Ryomen Sukuna, Ryoumen Sukuna, Sukuna x Reader, Sukuna x You, Female Reader, Soft Sukuna, Bartender Sukuna, Bartender AU, Canon Divergence, Might Devolve into Jujutsu Sorcery, Who Can Say?, Reader is Drunk, Shameless Flirting, Alcohol Consumption, Sukuna's House Makes an Appearance, Sukuna Collects Skulls, And Also Books, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Yuji Will Eventually Make an Appearance, Somewhere in This Series, Suggestive Themes, Suggestive Content, Reader Gets Hit On, But Nothing Actually Happens

Word Count: 2,169 words

Summary: After a long, difficult week, you find yourself at your favorite bar, people watching and appreciating the view. The view being Ryomen Sukuna, the local bartender. With a little liquid courage, you find yourself flirting shamelessly until he invites you to his place. What happens afterwards is a bartender and bookstore barista trying to find balance among their chaotic lives.

Chapter 1: A Shot in the Dark

After a long day of work, there’s no better way to wind down than to people watch at the bar. Dulling your mind with a few drinks loosens your muscles and stifles your insecurities. At the end of the counter, your eyes wander over the bartender you see regularly this time of day.

Damn, he’s hot. You sip the rest of your margarita and rest your head in your hand. As your head gets heavier, your gaze lowers from his face to his broad shoulders, roams down, and settles on the curve of his ass. His fingers stretch inside the cup he’s cleaning, his back to you. Do me like that.

“Enjoy the view?” Soft lips tilt up into a smirk as he steps over, leaning across the dark wood. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, darling. Have a rough week?”

Your cheeks darken to match his hair, but you stretch across the counter towards him anyway. 

“It’s been long. Dealing with people is frustrating.” You pout.

He laughs as he finishes cleaning the glass and sets it down. He mutters something that you miss as you get distracted with the tattoos on his chest, peeking out of his button-up. A soft whine whistles through your nose before his finger tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.

“Can I get you anything to drink, (Name)?” 

“An amaretto sour and a shot of tequila.” You lick your lips, acutely aware of how easy it would be for him to wrap his fingers around your neck. Hot! I need to calm myself before I do something I regret. 

You do your best to behave. But it is entirely unfair just how much his clothes strain against his body. The black fabric practically screams with his every move. 

“Here. If you’re going to gawk, you can at least use your words to tell me how good I look.” Sukuna taunts, tapping the counter to regain your attention. You throw back the shot without hesitation as your fingers ring the rim of your drink.

“But I wanna hear you talk.” You admit, holding out your open palm for his. You’re pleasantly surprised when he places his hand in yours and lets you trace the patterns of his tattoos. “Your voice makes me melt.” Oops…where’d that come from?

You can’t say you regret it, because it’s the first time he doesn’t meet your eyes as his cheeks flush bright pink. His hand twitches in yours.

“You’re too cute for your own good.” He pulls his hand back and drums his sharp nails on the countertop. “Here. Let me get their drinks and then we’ll talk.”

Your eyes follow him down the bar until you feel someone sit beside you; a tap on your shoulder pulls your gaze away from Sukuna and onto a red-haired stranger. “Mm?”

“I noticed you were over here looking lonely, pretty thing.” His voice is calm and smooth despite his obvious intoxication. “You wanna get out of here?” He winks.

You shake your head, trying to shove aside the immediate instinct to call back the bartender. I am perfectly capable of handling a drunk on my own. “I’m not really interested, thank you.”

“Ah, understood. Figured I’d shoot my shot, though.” He tips his head and struggles to get to his feet. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous, for what it’s worth.” 

“Thank you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

While Mr. Red Hair might be a perfect gentleman, his friend mutters something to him before wandering over himself. You deliberately turn towards Sukuna, trying to make it obvious who you’re interested in.

“You’re not interested in my buddy, huh? Can’t blame you. He’s a scrawny fellow. Not a lot to offer.” A gravelly voice speaks over your shoulder.

You ignore it.

Mr. Blonde & Buff doesn’t seem to take the hint.

“You’re not ignoring me, now, are you?” He growls, shoving your shoulder to look at him.

You wobble dangerously in your chair, hand flashing out for the counter when something steadies you from behind. Strong, warm, tattooed arms keep you from sprawling into the floor.

“That’s enough, Riku. Either go back to your table or get the fuck out.” The unspoken or else hangs in the air, dripping from Sukuna’s voice and the way he braces his shoulders, like he’s prepared to kick ass.

And damn, if it isn’t hot.

“Tch. Whatever.” He grumbles several obscenities as he stumbles over to his seat, not even glancing back in your direction.

“Sorry about that. Riku’s…well, an asshole, to put it lightly.” Sukuna sighs, pulling his hands away and gliding around the counter to stand across from you. “Are you alright?” 

“Why’d you let go? You can stay here.” You whine, chasing your straw with your tongue before taking a long drink. It gets warmer as you look up at him, hanging on his every word.

“I wasn’t sure if that might make you uncomfortable. You’d already voiced your disinterest to the other two.” He smirks, resting his chin on his fist. “I don’t make you uncomfortable?”

“No. I told them no, because I like your company better!” Your chair wobbles under the passion of your movements, but somehow you manage to keep from toppling over like an idiot.

“My company, huh? Why’s that?” 

“You’re an asshole, but you’re a respectable asshole.” You yawn, stretching out your back.

He barks out a laugh, causing the head of every drunk to swivel in his direction. Sukuna’s not exactly known for being full of mirth.

“A respectable asshole…” He grins and tucks a strand of your hair back in place. “So, can this respectable asshole ask when you’re free to come by my place?” 

“Can I come by later tonight?” You ask. “I don’t know that I’d be able to make my way home in the dark anyway…but if you’d like I can–”

“Tonight works.” He purrs, face marginally closer to yours. “I don’t get off for another thirty minutes. Think you can wait that long?”

“I’ll wait.” You agree, swallowing thickly. “If you keep getting that close to me, though, I’ll have no choice but to kiss you.”

Is it you, or does he move even closer? The tip of his nose almost meets yours as he looks down at you. The red of his eyes glistens under the dim bar light, pulling breath after shuddering breath from you. Your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You’re quite bold after a few drinks, aren’t you?” He chuckles.

“Not bold, just a warning of what you’re in for if you keep looking at me like that.” You murmur, aching to claim his lips and wipe that smirk off his face.

But you don’t. You wait for thirty minutes like a good girl, in and out of focus as you watch him clean up and get ready to leave. He disappears behind the employee door and comes out soon after.

“Ready, love?” He extends his arm while swinging his keys around his finger.

You get up from your chair, but forget about the step down from the counter. You fall straight into a pair of muscular arms as he catches you. You’re certainly not complaining.

“Watch your step.” He snorts. “As often as I’ve seen you in here, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

“I needed to feel numb.” You explain, leaning your head against his chest as his arm comes around your waist. 

He guides you out of the bar, leading you to a car. Your stomach turns as it copes with the alcohol in its system. I could use some carbs.

“You got any french fries?” You ask, swinging his arm between the two of you. 

“That’s right, you didn’t eat much tonight. We’ll grab some on the way to my place.” His fingers comb through your hair. “Anything else you want?” “You.” It slips out before you can help it. 

“That can certainly be arranged.” He whispers in your ear, thumb grazing your side. But he pulls back and loosens his grip on you. “But it’ll have to be when you’re sober enough to remember it.” 

If he was sexy before, he becomes a hundred times sexier to you with that admission alone. He helps you into his car and starts the trek to the nearest fast food chain and orders some fries. When you offer your money, he rolls his eyes and hands the cashier his card.

“If you won’t let me pay, at least take my money.” You shove it back at him.

“You pay me money all the time to make you drinks. Allow me to return the favor.” He swats the money away. “Put that back.”

“But I don’t make you drinks!” “No, but you’ve made me very amused this evening.” 

You both get your order and when he tells you to dig in, you stuff your face full of fries. Your head lulls against the leather seat with your eyes closed in ecstasy. Truly, carbs are the superior food group.

By the time he opens your door at his house, you’ve inhaled a full serving of fries and gulped half of your water. He takes the food and you follow him inside.

Dark red walls greet you in the living room, with lavish furniture that matches his personality. A dark brown leather sofa sits adjacent to a matching recliner, and a coat rack with a cow skull on top stands in the foyer.

He catches your appraising eyes and smiles.

“I have a bit of an obsession with animal skulls.” He nods to the mantle decorated with skulls of more variety. “They’re interesting to me. But I keep my library down this hall. You enjoy reading, don’t you?”

“Mhmm!” 

He takes your hand and leads you into a room filled top to bottom with colorfully illustrated spines. His shelves all match and he’s got them organized neatly with added trinkets here and there for decoration. You vaguely remember telling him last week about your new favorite manga when he steps over to his large collection with you.

“As you can see…there’s your favorite.” He gestures to an entire row of the Hotel of Villains series. You instantly finger the 4th book, pulling it out and gaping at the cover. “I’ll warn you, once you get to the 8th volume, things start picking up. You won’t want to put it down.”

You’re too enthralled with the cover in front of you before you sling your arms around his waist, voice muffled as your face gets squished into his chest.

“Thank you.” You whimper, tears draining from your eyes. You tend to get a little more emotional when drunk. “I’ve been waiting so long to read the rest…and my favorite character is trapped so I’ve been so worried.”

“Heh. Dasuko is your favorite?” Sukuna smiles crookedly.

“I know he’s the big bad villain but he’s such a respectable one!” You whine, turning away self-consciously. In the world of fandom, you’ve learned there’s no telling how anyone will react to your favorite characters.

“Mm, I guess respectable assholes are your type, huh?”

You hide behind your hair, trying to get your sludgy brain to decipher whether he’s just teasing or being serious.

“Hey, hey,” He tilts your chin up at him. There’s a growing smile on his face. “I’m not shaming you. I think it’s cute that someone so soft would fall for someone so…feral.” His eyes shine under the glow of the light. “He’s one of my favorites too.”

You smile up at him before his hand rubbing your back reminds you that he’s still wrapped in your embrace. You set the book back, before you sway into his chest. Your fingers search out his exposed skin and you paw at him.

“Do you mind if I stay?” You purr sweetly.

Sukuna raises an eyebrow and takes your hands in his.

“You may stay for a place to sleep. But I will not take advantage of you. Any woman would choose me with a hazy mind. Only women who understand my worth and power would choose me while sober.” He croons.

You’re of a stubborn disposition, though, and feeling a bit whiny as your mind fogs. You slide to your knees and look up at him in hopes to change his mind. 

“(Name).” He speaks, voice thicker but still resolute. “No.”

You huff, but try on a compromise.

“Fine. But…can I at least have a kiss?” You ask, forcing yourself back up into a standing position, giving yourself an indulgent look at his mouth. I’ve been dying to kiss you all night…all week! Please say yes.

“Mm,” His gaze flickers to your lips and back to your face. “One little peck, and then off to bed with you.”

It’s short and brief, but those soft lips tap yours as he bends down to kiss you. He pulls back almost as soon as he’s started, and you whimper when he does.

“Come. Let’s put you in bed.”

Part 2 coming soon!

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

[cultlifecollective-blog]

HIGH AS THE HEAVENS BUT STILL DRUNK AS HELL

[gintrinsic-writing]

Based on this art.

CW: body horror, impending death.

-

Rough bark against his back. Cool moss beneath his trembling fingers. What little light managed to breach the canopy of boughs was carried on the swirling backs of leaf litter motes. Fog curtained the air between trunks, and Link found himself nestled as though within a blanket. A small comfort.

It hurt, even now—short of breath and blood alike; this ultimate transformation from living to dead. His flesh was sunken and pitted, his sagging skin like ribbons of meringue to be feasted upon by the lichen and the insects. Every inhale rattled, every swallow stuck. No moisture remained for his aching eyes. So yes, it hurt, but the pain felt like a promise, like respite, like coming home in a way he couldn’t define but could nevertheless taste and smell and sense and know, even as consciousness threatened to divorce soul.

It was fine. It was meant to be, Link suspected, in some twisting, circling way. He’d first been Kokiri, then Hylian, then Hero. Now, he was to be something other.

Stalfos, Fado had whispered a lifetime ago. He wondered if she’d known.

Time passed in increments and in multitudes. His body withered like the bark of a fallen tree—consumed bit by bit, patiently placid to this un-becoming. Perhaps it was seconds, wasting away, being gnashed upon by mouths both small and microscopic. Perhaps it was minutes. Regardless, as the Hero of Time drew one of his final breaths, there came a voice the memory of which had beckoned his rare, understated smiles for years.

“You’ve returned, friend.”

The Skull Kid approached slowly, respectfully. Their hands flittered as though they could not decide on touch. Finally, they brushed away a strand of Link’s hair. “I knew you would,” they chimed. “I knew you’d come back.”

Link tried to smile for them. His lip split like old parchment. “Did…n’t… know… where else… to… go.”

The Skull Kid tittered like that was funny. “Didn’t know? Didn’t know! Of course you knew. See?” They gestured to the woods around them, snapping their beak in amusement. “You’re here, silly Hylian.” They nodded, apparently pleased, then dragged a claw feather-light down the bridge of Link’s cavitated nose. “This will be a sacred place. A magical place. The forest is singing over you.”

Link closed his eyes to listen. A melody drifted by like a dandelion’s seed, soft and aimless, difficult to catch. It settled what remained of his nerves.

“Yes,” the Skull Kid agreed, “time to let go. No fear.” They grasped Link’s hand, gentler than he’d ever felt before. Their callouses scraped against his bones. “The Lost Woods will welcome you, and we will be friends forever.”

A breeze drifted by, stirring song once more. It took what remained of Link’s breath. He found he did not mind.

“I will stay here until it’s finished,” the Skull Kid continued contently. “You can rest. Rest, rest, rest. When your spirit is full again, I will find you. Rest, friend. Rest.”

And Link did.

[artichokefartichoke]

30 mg of eddies (caramels, 1 made by a friend and 1 medical bought), dabs of something my boyfriend got at the dispensary yesterday, and a pen of Soap, a sativa dominant hybrid. 🤌🥦🌲💚

Pairs with a red blend and a period drama.

[roughridingrednecks]

Amlong in Florida

[goblinbeetle]

[patrocles]

i straight up was almost killed today jesus christ

[valdrift]

this absolutely is not smth to think fondly about but the time my cousin inadvertently gave me a head injury is one i warmly reminisce upon........

[cage-cat-yt]

So with the St Louis TLT concert, I was able to go to the meet and greet thing and get Yoav Landau and @samhaft 's signatures :3 so I decided to draw on the page and hang it up, to which it's finished!!! Yippee

It took about a day or two to finish, but it doesn't have that many screw ups, which is nice, and yeah idk what else to add cause I'm a little shy rn lol

Anyway, thanks for reading! Remember to hydrate and self care and I hope you have a good day :3