#praying drunk

[apoemaday]

Praying Drunk

by Andrew Hudgins

Our Father who art in heaven, I am drunk. Again. Red wine. For which I offer thanks. I ought to start with praise, but praise comes hard to me. I stutter. Did I tell you about the woman whom I taught, in bed, this prayer? It starts with praise; the simple form keeps things in order. I hear from her sometimes. Do you? And after love, when I was hungry, I said, Make me something to eat. She yelled, Poof! You’re a casserole!—and laughed so hard she fell out of the bed. Take care of her. Next, confession—the dreary part. At night deer drift from the dark woods and eat my garden. They’re like enormous rats on stilts except, of course, they’re beautiful. But why? What makes them beautiful? I haven’t shot one yet. I might. When I was twelve, I’d ride my bike out to the dump and shoot the rats. It’s hard to kill your rats, our Father. You have to use a hollow point and hit them solidly. A leg is not enough. The rat won’t pause. Yeep! Yeep! it screams, and scrabbles, three-legged, back into the trash, and I would feel a little bad to kill something that wants to live more savagely than I do, even if it’s just a rat. My garden’s vanishing. Perhaps I’ll merely plant more beans, though that might mean more beautiful and hungry deer. Who knows?                 I’m sorry for the times I’ve driven home past a black, enormous, twilight ridge. Crested with mist, it looked like a giant wave about to break and sweep across the valley, and in my loneliness and fear I’ve thought, O let it come and wash the whole world clean. Forgive me. This is my favorite sin: despair— whose love I celebrate with wine and prayer. Our Father, thank you for all the birds and trees, that nature stuff. I’m grateful for good health, food, air, some laughs, and all the other things I’m grateful that I’ve never had to do without. I have confused myself. I’m glad there’s not a rattrap large enough for deer. While at the zoo last week, I sat and wept when I saw one elephant insert his trunk into another’s ass, pull out a lump, and whip it back and forth impatiently to free the goodies hidden in the lump. I could have let it mean most anything, but I was stunned again at just how little we ask for in our lives. Don’t look! Don’t look! Two young nuns tried to herd their giggling schoolkids away. Line up, they called. Let’s go and watch the monkeys in the monkey house. I laughed, and got a dirty look. Dear Lord, we lurch from metaphor to metaphor, which is—let it be so—a form of praying. I’m usually asleep by now—the time for supplication. Requests. As if I’d stayed up late and called the radio and asked they play a sentimental song. Embarrassed. I want a lot of money and a woman. And, also, I want vanishing cream. You know— a character like Popeye rubs it on and disappears. Although you see right through him, he’s there. He chuckles, stumbles into things, and smoke that’s clearly visible escapes from his invisible pipe. It makes me think, sometimes, of you. What makes me think of me is the poor jerk who wanders out on air and then looks down. Below his feet, he sees eternity, and suddenly his shoes no longer work on nothingness, and down he goes. As I fall past, remember me.

[pityroad]

Forgive me. This is my favorite sin: despair—

whose love I celebrate with wine and prayer.

— Praying Drunk, Andrew Hudgins

[cockroachesunite]

Priorities

[victoryshowers]

txt posts r my only fandom contributions bc i never post art or finish fics even tho i make both LOL

edit: i realized i’ve already posted that tosh one uhhmm ignore that ^_^

[allthe-starss]

SOLO (drunk?) AMANGELA SMOSH MOUTH!!! i don’t know what it’s like to lose

[fellshish]

Do you think Crowley or Aziraphale have ever drunk dialed each other and said something a little too flirty or honest or stupid?

What if he hasn’t yet, but in the new season crowley leaves the most pathetic, wet cat, blubbering mess, heartfelt message on aziraphale’s heavenly answering machine and the metatron gets to it first and erases it

[lilaccatholic]

aaaaaaaaaahhhh the church job i applied for sent a list of follow up questions which, while a (seemingly?) good sign, is making my anxiety and imposter syndrome flare up SO bad

pray for me????

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 8

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Sylus myth mentioned, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1424

Written: 22nd December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Masterlist

Sylus enjoys a karaoke bar, especially if he's got access to you for a duet. You tease him but you'll always join him, hanging onto his arm and letting loose, and he sometimes falters over the words because he's too busy watching your face.

Still, this is good too. You've set up the game system that the doctor bought for his base, presenting it with a sigh. 'You won't know the right one.'

He'd been a little insulted, but he'd acquiesced, in the end the doctor knows gaming better than he does. It's never appealed to him, and he's never had real time to try. A sing-a-long game is loading up, yelling out 'let's sing' loudly from the speaker system.

You'd presented it to him with the doctor, beaming, "You'll like this one, I promise!"

The fish had groaned from the sofa, "Why do we all have to suffer the crow's crooning?"

As much as you've teased him for being out of tune, you've always encouraged him. He can't count how many times you've asked him to hum for you. Lay against his chest, and unable to sleep for nightmares.

The reason for the at-home karaoke session, are the cocktails that Luke has decided he wants to try making. Kieran is his primary test dummy, and if anything doesn't make him spit it straight back out. You're trying them.

It's ill advised… Sylus knows you're not a light weight, but he does know you and the twins can get competitive. It feels like it's only moments before you start doing shots together, and if that happens he's bound to get dragged in, and as quick healing as he is, he doesn't fancy driving anyone anywhere. Nor does he want to get into a taxi with someone he doesn't trust. Not with you and the twins.

He needs you safe.

He also blames you for Luke’s new hobby, you’d showed them some movies, made comments about how stylish a good bartender is, (He hadn’t filed that information away, to practice. At all.), and Luke had taken that as a challenge.

“It can’t be that hard.”

“Yeah! You can do it bro!”

You’d laughed and not thought anything of it. They’d gone out, and returned with… boxes.

Then raided his alcohol supply.

He’d dragged them both back by the scruff of the neck when they went for the very expensive top shelf. In no world were they mixing that with… was that moonshine? Where did they even get moonshine from?

He doesn’t see you drunk often, there are times you’re out in busy places because you feel you have to attend, and he’s seen you drink then to soften the anxiety and stress. You always call someone to be there then, drunk you is far more willing to rely on others. He also has seen you drink when you feel safe, has carried you on his arm more than once in those situations.

You apologise but there’s no need, especially when he gets to see the embarrassed but enamoured look on your face as he holds you in one arm. Your fingers drifting over the veins in his bicep, with a look he can only describe as hungry. He flexes a little more than he needs to on those occasions.

(There was one time you’d made a comment about beef clod, and he had truly not known how to respond.)

He can see you getting to that point now, you’re trying something green that you and Kieran are sipping from the same glass with separate straws. Luke is taking his turn at the microphone, singing something about what he wants for Christmas. Sylus is unsure if the radioactive green drink is good for either of you, but you don’t look sick, still. He’s wary, and flicks your forehead. As you put a hand to the targeted area, pulling away with an offended ‘Oi’, he grabs the glass and sips from your straw.

“Aww, Boss come on.”

It’s… not as bad as he expected, but he can’t imagine drinking it for fun.

Whether his taste buds are ‘broken’ like you’ve claimed before, and its somehow worse than he tastes, he still doesn’t feel good about putting it back in either your’s or Kieran’s hands. So he downs it.

Wrinkling his nose and pushing the glass away.

Before you can grab another concoction, now that Luke is back and shoving something else onto his brother, (He’s going to have to hide the key to the liquor cabinet he thinks, if this becomes a long standing hobby for them.), he pulls you over to the karaoke machine. “It’s our turn kitten, I’m owed a song for saving you from a terrible fate.”

Your tongue is out at him, but you stumble over grabbing his arm to steady yourself, and pick up the controller to find something you both know well enough to get through it with little effort.

His song repertoire has grown substantially since you’ve reentered his life, he feels confident that anything you sing to often he has memorised. Catalogued away to think about on nights you’re not here to sing for him.

When you’re satisfied, lining up a particular choice, you thrust the microphone into his hand, that’s not currently steadying you at the waist.

You look right at him when the song starts, familiar with some things enough to sing them blindfolded, and as tipsy as you are, with your voice wavering a little, he’s as starstruck as he always is.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you, ‘Cause I know that you feel me somehow, You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be, And I don’t want to go home right now.”

There’s moments in his life, where Sylus wonders if he blinks, will you disappear? A fragile illusion on a wishful soul. That someone, somewhere has truly seen into him and seen something worth adoring and loving. He thinks you are easy to love, there can be no doubt that you are worthy without the need to earn it.

“And all I can taste is this moment, And all I can breathe is your life.”

You have reminded him, again and again that you love him, that he does not need to pay for it, or gift for it. That everything that is offered is freely given, and wholehearted. That there is nothing to earn. It is not a transaction, no relationship should be. You do not keep score, and you would rather he did not either.

“And sooner or later it’s over, I just don’t want to miss you tonight.”

It still leaves him with the feeling that in seconds he could wake up, in a cold cave, surrounded by gems he no longer sees beauty in, in a world where he is nothing but broken horns and lost family.

“And I don’t want the world to see me, ‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand, When everything’s meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.”

He loves you, he loves his life with you, and he is so scared-

Your hands move to his cheeks, his voice halts, wavering and pausing. Blinking at you. The microphone is out of your hands and you stretch up as tall as you can pressing a kiss to his eyelids. He almost drops his own, hand tightening on your waist. You sing just for him, lips at his cheek now, and his breath escapes in a long exhale, shaking.

You are his, you are his, you are his.

When his heart wavers, yours is there, keeping it beating, in time to a song only you can hear.

He is yours, he is yours, he is yours.

“I just want you to know who I am.”

He lifts you into his arms, and he sings with you, game forgotten because it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters. If you are happy, he is happy, and he is so very happy with you in his arms.

If he wakes up tomorrow and you are not here, he will find you anywhere. He has done it before, and he will do it for the rest of time, because you are the one who sees him.

And later, when you are laughing and stumbling through his bedroom door, trying to pull away from the uncontrolled kisses he plants on your skin, tickling you and nipping, he will swear into your skin that he will always see you too.

Whoever you choose to be.

[leawesomesloth]

A little meme redraw specially featuring the feng xin pei ming RP accounts from twt 🤣

(They had been recounting the night they got drunk and made out and mu qing is not happy about that)

[el-cabroncito]

I found a new song to edit rosquez to and I need to learn how to do I can make cause it’s a perfect song. It’s called burning down by Alex Warren

These are the lyrics

[deathprincess]

I prefer closing the bar becuz better hour better monies but i like opening the bar because i will pray over the tables and chairs before da people come in ^_^

[lavendermin]

What new situation can I put jing yuan in today for a little blurb to write

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

heavy breathing . i NEED to write a kitsune!geto x reader fic a la kamisama kiss 😞😞😞

[bandi-off]

Having Terror Camp and the 2024 Abu Dhabi Grand prix on the same weekend is cruel on the soul. Too much emotions all at once.

I might die.

[submarinerwrites]

at the club yesterday a bunch of guys bought me and my friend four drinks each and people came up to us all night long and said we were hot (we were both dressed in grandma clothes bc we were mostly planning on just drinking but we ended up dancing anyways) and a guy with a great butt and a chest tattoo gave us a bunch of quarters to play galaga and some man with a mustache and a cowboy hat kissed me on the dancefloor and at my drunkest i whooped this other guys ass playing air hockey so maybe life is worth living sometimes.

[rip-reaper]

here's the thing.

in one piece's skypieia arc we see the shandians praying to the sun god 400 years ago bc they are dying of the plague and want to be saved. and then in episode 192 when enel is trying to sink upper yard with his huge ball of fucking thunderclouds we see the people of skypieia praying to god to save them, and conis wondering if god is actually real, right?

and then the scene cuts to luffy doing his usual shit and saving the day and dissipating the huge ball of fucking thunderclouds before it kills everyone and destroys the ancient land of the shandians.

which hits a bit different after finding out approximately one billion episodes later that oh luffy didn't actually eat the devil fruit which turns your body into rubber, it actually was the fruit of oops you're now more or less the reincarnation of the sun god, enjoy. yeah.