#hard liquor

[cranberrybogmummy]

Booze poll

C'mon people let's see

[historyofsky]

Sooo I’m 24 but never joined tumblr. Idk why. But I recently discovered a YouTube Chanel with video essays about tumblr history and was intrigued. I had to do it.

And I heard that you shouldn’t join now. But I like to make mistakes so here am I. And I need help. How do I use this? I feel so old. How do I find my ppl? Am I embarrassing myself? (Probably yes but ew) what are the social norms on here? Can someone adopt a newbie?

#help I guess?

Ps just discovered tags hihi ✨

[signoraviolettavalery]

Does this count as a ginger shot if you do a shot of it

[yetanotherthriftblog]

A candle... made by Jägermeister? (Just like the booze, it burns?)

[blackros78]

[balance-lo]

10数年振りにZAZEN BOYSを観た

欲を言えば、The Drifting〜I Don't Wanna Be With You〜Sabakuが大好きだからやっぱりシンセの音で聴きたかった でもI Don't〜Sabakuがセットリストに入った事実だけで最高だしSabakuで泣いた

1曲目が大好きなYou make me feel so badで1曲目から少し泣いてた

ラストKIMOCHIでまた泣くだろうなと思いながらやっぱり泣いた

シンセで聴けたらいいなとか思ってたけど、色々な思い出が甦りすぎてどうにかなりそうなところを現アレンジで演奏してくれたおかげで今に立ち戻れて今に居られて気持ちを保っていられたなと終わってからすごく感じた "割と楽しい"とか "Life in the muddy water"とかに変わってたのも'今'を感じて良かった

"生の実感を持っとこう"を体現してるライブだった

CRAZY DAYS CRAZY FEELING、沁みた

[tilbageidanmark]

There's so much going on here: Greed, Sales of hard liquor, Richie Rich, Gambling, Cigarettes, Flags of a Fake Messiah, Lottery, Boxing, Energy drinks, Monopoly, Bright colours, Ice cream!

Bansky couldn't cram so much into such little wall.

[mattsmemes]

[lovelysewertragedyfree]

[ryukatters]

drunk in love — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

⟡ summary: you walk gojo back to his dorm after a night of drinking

⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

⟡ content/warnings: major fluff, underage alcohol consumption, boyfailure gojo, gojo calls reader pretty, mutual pining, drunken confessions, kiss kiss fall in love

⟡ wc: 1.4k

Satoru’s never been great at holding his alcohol.

The first time he got drunk was in secret inside of Suguru’s dorm room, late at night to ensure that there weren’t any teachers (read: Yaga) lingering in the hallway past curfew. His teacher did always seem to have some sort of divine intuition whenever it came to Satoru’s antics.

He had taken one shot and subsequently spat it all out onto the floor.

Satoru’s gotten better at handling his liquor, but he’s still very much a lightweight. That isn’t enough to deter him from refusing any shots Shoko or Suguru throw his way though, which probably isn't a great idea seeing how wasted your friends were. Which is surprising, because they tend to be a little better at handling their alcohol than Satoru. Chalk it up to wanting to celebrate for making it to the end of the school year.

It’s you who’s left to play damage control, considering how you were the only one still standing as the rest of your friends were all passed out on the cold hardwood floor of Shoko’s dorm, aside from one other person who’s currently gripping your leg, staring up at you, pleading like a kicked puppy.

Satoru was just as annoying if not more so when intoxicated. He couldn’t possibly sleep on the cold, hard, wooden floors…

…which is how you end up walking Gojo back to his dorm room. Though walking would be a very generous term, seeing how he’s using you as a human crutch, leaning most of his weight onto you as you struggle to keep the two of you balanced.

You try to usher Gojo onto his bed gently, but the boy seems to be too out of his wits to even do that properly. He unceremoniously flops onto his bed with a thud, banging his head against the wall in the process.

“Owww,” he clutches his head, pouting.

“That’s what you get,” you laugh.

“You’re mean.”

“Mean? I brought you all the way back here when I could have just let you sleep on the floor. That sounds pretty nice to me.”

His bottom lip juts out even further, much to your amusement. His sunglasses are hanging off the bridge of his nose, lopsided. You reach out to place them on his nightstand. His warm hand envelops your wrist before you can draw back, and brings your hand to cup his cheek. Maybe it’s alcohol and your decreased inhibition, or maybe its your own volition, but you can’t find it in you to pull away. You stroke your thumb against his pale, plush cheek, admiring the dimple that likes to make itself known when he smiles, just like he is right now.

Satoru runs warm. You’d think for someone with such an icy appearance and a reputation for being a cold-blooded sorcerer, his body temperature would follow suit. Maybe it’s because that frigidness is Gojo, the strongest, the honored one, and all the epithets that have burdened his shoulders from the minute he was born. But here, with you, he’s just Satoru— a boy with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, who can’t shoot whiskey, and loves his friends endlessly.

“My head hurts,” he whines.

“Oh, you poor baby,” you faux coo, rubbing your hand against the sore spot that will definitely have a lump tomorrow. Satoru eats it up though, melting into your touch. He’s even clingier when he’s drunk, you realize. Cute, you might even add. But the thought leaves just as soon as it comes. You’re a lot less sober than you thought you were.

Gojo’s voice pulls you out of your drunken daze. “Can you kiss it better f’me?”

“What?”

“Can you kiss…kiss me instead? So it doesn’t hurt anymore?” He slurs.

“Satoru, you’re too drunk.”

“‘m not!” Whatever defense he has for himself fails as a hiccup escapes past his lips. For a second, you think he might fall asleep like this, leaning into you. But then his eyes snap back open with a determined glint.

“Wan’…wanna kiss youuu,” he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, waiting for you to close the gap.

“Satoru…”

Where do you even start? You thought you’d be okay ignoring the budding feeling in your chest that consumes you most days you’re with the white-haired sorcerer. Deflection is the only way you know how to avoid acknowledging whatever this was. And it’s been working, sort of. “You can’t kiss someone you don’t like.”

He pouts even harder at that. “I like someone! I like you,” he says adamantly. “Like, like-like you.”

“Like-like? What are we, in kindergarten?”

You try your best to redirect the conversation, you don’t think you’re ready to face the implications of the fact that one of your best friends has feelings for you. Mutual feelings, you might add— the same feelings that have been eating away at you for months now, and the same feelings you’ve elected to ignore.

He pouts for the umpteenth time tonight before he lets out a huff, falling back onto the mattress. He props himself up on a pillow, peering at you curiously. It’s almost like you can see the gears turn in his head when he smiles deviously, both of his freakishly long arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you flush against him.

You can feel the hot puffs of his breath, and you will yourself to look at him. Satoru’s eyes have always been so easy to get lost in.

He breathes out your name, sickeningly sweet. “I really do like you. You’re so pretty and strong and smart— it drives me a little crazy.” Your head is spinning, and the innate urge to run like you’ve been doing all this time sparks through you, but the grip that Satoru has on you is too strong. “Want you to like me back, I’ll do anything,” he says honestly.

Gojo’s good at the chase, and you’re something he’s in for the long run. You can run and run until there’s nowhere else to go, until your legs refuse to carry you a step further. He’ll always be there to catch you.

His hand traces delicate patterns along the side of your neck, still a bit too far gone to notice how your breath hitches. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, I’ll get you a big house and we can live together forever. I’ll take care of you, do whatever you want. I’ll be so good to you. For you.”

You’re stunned into silence. Your heart is threatening to leap out of your chest. It melts when you look at Satoru, who’s looking at you with all the hope in the world. The moonlight seeping through the blinds of his window casts the most intricate waves of light, illuminating Satoru’s features perfectly.

Satoru thinks he’s holding the world in his arms right now. He’s preparing himself for rejection, but it’s alright, he thinks— because he’s good at everything he tries and he’s willing to try and try again and again for you, just for the chance to be yours.

“Tell me that again in the morning when you’re sober,” you whisper, as if you’re afraid someone else could hear you within the confines of Satoru’s room. Like the weight of your words were a secret you couldn’t bear to let anyone else in on, except for one person— your one and only.

You take a leap of faith. You plant your hands on his chest to steady yourself, placing a chaste kiss on Satoru’s forehead— a symbol of assurance of your love for him— something that’s been a part of you from the very moment you met him.

Satoru’s heart squeezes in anticipation. He hugs you even tighter, laughing at the yelp of surprise you let out. He has never felt as more of a winner than he does right now. “I’ll tell you everything sober or drunk,” he promises, unable to contain his giddiness as you (finally!) let him pepper kisses all over your face.

“Everything, as long as it’s with you.”

a/n: gojo can not handle hard liquor so he’s drunk off of some (shots of) smirnoff ice 😎

[bruciemilf]

The most embarrassing moment of Jason’s life is calling Bruce to bail him out for underage drinking

[souraesthetics]

What girls want

[amartbee]

A cerelian got drunk. Tarble had to pick him up...

[serpentface]

Ephenni man participating in a variant of the kagnoma wantouki folk dance. He has come prepared, wearing bell bracelets and belled and pheasant-feathered dancing shoes, and neglecting a tunic and cloak, allowing for the percussive slaps to his chest and stomach to be louder.

"Kagnoma wantouki" groups together a variety of closely related folk dances that occur across the Imperial Wardi cultural sphere, and beyond (the west + south rivers Hill Tribes, Cholemdinae, and Loberan North Wardi groups have also adopted and developed variants, and one western variant has spread to parts of Bur). The dance is performed differently from province to province (sometimes even from village to village) and goes by several more specific names, but it is distinguished as a collective from other folk dances by the commonalities of:

the dancers use their own bodies as a form of percussion, via clapping their hands, slapping their chests, upper arms, stomachs, thighs, and/or shins, and stomping their feet. The name of the dance itself refers to this.

the dance is otherwise dominated by rapid footwork (often emphasized with bells) and is accompanied by up-tempo music.

the dance can technically be performed strictly solo, with opportunities for partnering.

dancers provide some vocalization.

As a folk dance, it serves no direct religious function and is mostly performed by people with no formal training at social gatherings (this is a mainstay of weddings in particular, but occurs at everything from religious festivals to funerary feasts).

Drumming is the only strictly necessary form of musical accompaniment, but many variants/performances make use of tambourines and rattles. Use of a two-stringed bow instrument is common in the west and south. Chanting by the dancers and singing by a musical accompaniment and/or onlookers is a near-necessity, with a specific call and response form of song developing in tandem with this dance.

Costuming (if used at all) varies by region, but belled shoes decorated with feathers are common (for this and many other dances), and men who come prepared for the occasion usually go with a skirt and a nude upper body (baring more skin to make the slaps more percussive). It’s very common to see men fasten their cloaks around their hips and slip the upper half of the tunic off their arms and down to the belt when joining in opportunistically. Costuming for women requires less specificity and usually lacks the feathered shoes.

The dance can technically be considered unisex, but most variants show slight differentiation of choreography for men and women (in large part aligning to typical dress standards). The feminine variant involves active use of the skirt and less slapping, usually limiting it to claps of the hands, slapping the hand of a partner, and a specialized move during rapid percussive sessions in which the hem of the skirt is lifted by the non-dominant hand while the opposite leg is repeatedly kicked up and slapped on the shin in time to the music.

When dancing with a partner (which often occurs opportunistically among a group), both will face each other and attempt to move in time and punctuate the high-tempo sections with slaps of each other's hands. This dance has no particular connotations of courtship (while some other folk dances are at least Rooted in this and require man-woman dance partnerships with very strongly differentiated choreography). If anything, it's slightly more typical for people to partner up with a dancer of the same gender.

It's very common to see 'dance fights' develop between men in particular, especially when two higher-skilled dancers match up and attempt to outdo each other. This is a semi-formalized aspect of the dance, where the competitors will alternate between 'leading' for each section (punctuated by shifts in tempo and shouts) while the other attempts to match their movements as closely as possible, 'losing' the match if they can't keep up. A good quality fight in action will be deferred to by other dancers, who will circle around them and clap in time (while particularly canny accompanying musicians will improvise more complex rhythms, and singers call attention to it). These 'dance-fights' are almost always friendly in nature and often considered to be the highlight of a kagnoma wantouki, either as a showcase of the highest skilled dancers in a group or as a very, very entertaining spectacle when one or both are drunk.

[blackros78]

[bebemoon]

"persephone returns (spring)", requested by anonymous .

jacquemus sheer mini dress in olive green, s/s 2o18

ann demeulemeester "satu" satin draped tied sleeves in burgundy

valentino garavani rosebud ankle-wrap heeled sandals

byredo "rouge chaotique" extrait de parfum

zeyzey jewelry handmade gold-plated and ruby-encrusted pomegranate earrings + wendy nichols "the triple pearl" chain drop stud earring