#tw / alcohol abuse

[gray-ace-space]

has anyone else had to deal with the absolutely bonkers assumption that asexuality is antithetical to enjoying alcohol?? like. how are these two things connected. is it just infantilization, like i'm not supposed to like "adult" things? is it the belief that aces don't know how to "let go" or "have fun"? hi, i'm ace and i drink probably a bit too much! this is something people (allos) are often surprised by! my relationship with alcohol is not like, something i'm proud of, it's a potential issue in terms of my mental health, but it's still an authentic part of me. i don't tone it down, just like i don't tone down my asexuality, and i'm not planning to.

and now a survey bc i'm genuinely curious. (ace here includes every kind of acespec!)

rb for sample size

edit: the reasons for your not drinking (age, health issues) are not relevant here. if you don't drink, say you don't drink. if you haven't tried, say you haven't tried. whether you're underage or not is none of my business.

also if you quit drinking because it was a problem for you - you are very cool and strong! but also the "have struggled" option applies to you

[synthwavecryptid]

Can’t sleep, so I’m thinking about how Hosea said himself he spent a year drinking after Bessie died

(putting all my thoughts on it under a cut because alcoholism)

Like. It’s already bad enough that he chased the bottom of a bottle for a year, and while I’m curious as to what broke that habit cycle, I’m also curious how the fallout went

Because recovery is ugly. It isn’t easy, even when weaning off in a controlled environment. Cold turkey even worse. It’s an addiction, and that comes with withdrawal. So I know, for fact, this man was sick as a damn dog for WEEKS.

I’m just. Very heart sore thinking about him highstrung and anxious, pacing around camp when he should be laying down because he’s too jittery to run a con and his hands too shaky to hold a gun. Can’t sleep for shit, sweating through his shirts, and dropping weight because he’s unable to keep much of anything down, living off of weak herbal tea and biscuits. Running the whole gamut of extremes from exhausted, to furious, to tearfully begging for a drink and to keep him away from drink in turns.

I’m also of the mind that Dutch is not the caretaking type, is awkward with comfort and out of his depth with nursing, but he does his damnedest to do right by Hosea anyways.

Dutch may get overwhelmed, and frustrated, and sometimes just plain scared, but he always comes back bearing clean clothes, fresh tea, or a book to read to Hosea while he’s flat out and fighting hallucinations.

It may also be borne of selfishness, and Dutch’s brand of possessiveness, because without Annabelle Hosea is Dutch’s anchor; and without Bessie, Dutch can have Hosea entirely to himself again like the good ol days. I don’t personally think he hated her, per se, but I do think he was viciously jealous.

So now they’ll weather this storm together, married in action but not law like Bessie was and Dutch never can be; for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do they part.

(hearing about Hosea’s struggles hit me in the feelings pretty hard because alcoholism got my ass too. not as badly, and my partner hadn’t died, but it still was a 0/10 experience. I’ve been sober a few years now. You’re not alone 🩷)

[venriliz]

why is the concept of showing empathy for drug/alcohol addicts so hard to understand for some ppl? v.v they suffer too sis, that problem has to come from somewhere and i bet most of them would rather not be addicted in the first place. some people don't know what nuance is i swear. am i crazy for having empathy with addicts??? i don't think so.

[steddieunderdogfics]

writing in to rec smoke signals by virgomoom

smoke signals by virgomoom

Rating: Teen and Up

40,568 words, 13/13 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Wears Glasses, Recreational Drug Use, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Mike Wheeler Being an Idiot, Eddie Munson is Whipped, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, No beta we die like Barb, Eddie wants Steve so bad its embarrassing, Fulfilling my Steve Harrington Babygirl Agenda, Not Canon Compliant - Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Everybody Lives, Disabled Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Confused Mike Wheeler, Steve Harrington cannot give advice, Steve Harrington-centric, Steve Harrington Wears Short Shorts, Steve Harrington Has Nightmares, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names, minor alcohol abuse but not really steve just goes through it for a second, Idiots in Love, Overuse of italics, god i hope this plot makes sense remembering plot details is so hard, eddie munson is an idiot but he's MY idiot, we love a nancy/steve platonic friendship, byers/hopper siblings supremacy

Summary:

“Here, Stevie, let me raise you an offer. When you’re done with work tonight, come over to my place and I’ll smoke you up, free of charge, and then you can decide whether I’m worthy enough to be your primary dealer.” "Fine." _____ Steve can't sleep, so Eddie extends a helping hand.

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks!

[worst-mother-throwdown]

BRACKET 2

Round 1

TW: substance abuse, drug/alcohol addiction, child neglect, child abuse, manipulation

Feel free to add propaganda in the replies and reposts!!

Claire's mom propaganda

The Web propaganda

[sibmakesart]

1/2

[blitzsicedcoffee]

European: our drinking culture is just different, we wouldn't consider that alcoholism

American: pretty sure drinking beer like it's water with every meal is not healthy for you

European: neither is cheeseburger

American: wow got me there 😒

[fandomwe1rd0]

"Colors" A Rick and Morty songfic

TW ALOCHOL AND DRUG ABUSE UNDER THE CUT

Your little brother never tells you, but he loves you so

Rick was looking at Morty. He was asleep, he looked so peaceful when he's asleep, so much different then how he usually saw Morty, yelling, running, and overall just being anxiety if anxiety was a person. He sighed as he saw the bruises that littered Morty's arms after their latest adventure, he ran a hand through his hair as he sighed. He took a syringe and injected it into Morty's cheek letting out a deep sigh. A churning in his gut formed with the knowledge that this was his fault. He patted Morty's head with a whisper "I'm sorry..."

Rick's inner voice insulted him "You don't deserve his forgiveness. You're a piece of shit."

You said your mother only smiled on her tv show

Morty tapped on her mom's shoulder. Beth turned over "What!?" Morty flinched

"See even your mom doesn't want to spend time with you anymore, she hates you. Everyone does." Morty's inner voice chided.

Morty stammered "I-I-I just-" Beth sighed "Look, I'm busy right now, can it wait?" "But I-" Beth sent a glare that sent shivers down Morty's spine, "Wait." Morty gulped then Beth's phone rang. She pinched her nose and mumbled "This shit again..." She answered the phone with a smile on her face, she chirped, her voice like honey "Hello! This is Beth! Yes I can go to the horse hospital right now!" Beth started walking and Morty grabbed onto her arm "Wait mom-" Beth ripped herself from Morty's grip and went to the horse hospital, while Morty gripped onto the card he made Beth for Mother's Day.

You're only happy when you're sorry, head is filled with dope

Rick was high off of kalaxium crystal, he also maybe had a weeeee bit of whiskey. Hah. That's what he told himself. It made his addiction sound less serious right? In truth, he only had 2 bottles. Less than the 5 bottles he usually drank though. He attempted to open Morty's door, he missed the doorknob 4 times, but eventually manged to open it, kicking the door behind him to close it. Morty fluttered his eyes open. Wait..what was Rick doing here? He had a test tomorrow! Morty internally groaned "R-Rick what is-" Rick cut him off with a hug. Morty hated the way he near instinctively relaxed by the hug. "Rick what is-" "I'm sorry little budddddyyyy." Morty blinked. 

What? 

Rick wasn't one to apologize...

"Because he doesn't have to apologize. You deserve it. You're just an oversensitive piece of shit." Morty's inner voice commented, laced with venom.

Morty gulped down the lump in his throat. 

Rick slurred "I...I put you through too much budddddyyyy. S-sorry for being mean on the latest adventureeeee." Rick smiled wide, showing his yellow teeth "Y-you did good buddy...y-you...you did great m-my little buddddyyy"

"He doesn't put you through too much." Morty's inner voice argued. "You're just too weak." Morty hated the way his cheeks flushed due to being flattered as soon as those words left Rick's mouth, hated the way hs body went limp, completely surrendering to Rick's touch, he knew Rick didn't mean it but...the physical affection and validation was nice...even if he only got it while Rick was drunk

"God, you're soaking this up like a puppy..." Morty felt his cheeks getting hot, this time with shame 

"Pull away." His inner voice urged "If you do this he's just going to using you for adventures."

But Morty didn't.

He doesn't know why he didn't.

But he didn't.

He just...couldn't... 

"Fucking weak ass bitch..." His inner voice muttered as if Morty couldn't hear him.

Morty hated the way tears stung his eyes.

He really was weak...

Rick asked "What's wronngggg you became like a limp noodle buddyyyy." "Nothing."

Rick laughed "You're weirddddd." Morty sniffled, hating how loud it was, Rick asked "You sure you're okay m-muh m-my guyyy" "I'm fine" Morty lied, replying a little too quickly.

He always lied.

He was never fine.

But Rick didn't care.

He never did.

I hope you make it to the day you're 28 years old

Rick laid surrounded by beer cans and pills, completely passed out. 

Morty was left cleaning up the beer cans and pill containers. He sighed.

"Nice job, downgraded from Rick's sidekick to his maid." Morty's inner voice sarcastically congratulated. Morty clutched onto the bag.

Hard.

The bag crinkled under his grip and Morty took a deep breath as he continued cleaning with a vice-like grip on the bag.

He looked over to Rick, and sighed. "How are you still alive?" Morty mumbles. His eyes shoot open when he realizes what he said, he feels something horrible twist in his gut, that's a terrible thing to say! Why did he even say that!? Morty felt it again, for the 3rd time this week, it was Wednesday, he felt it. The awful, aggressive, angry, feeling chewing inside of him, wanting to get out.

He ignored it.

He always did.

You're dripping like a saturated sunrise

Rick and Morty were running from a monster. Morty was panting, sweat covering his shirt. Rick grabbed Morty's wrist roughly as he pulled him near him "GO FASTER FUCKNUT!" Morty was hyperventilating, running as fast as his legs can take him.

"You're so fucking weak." Morty's inner voice insulted. Morty was too busy trying to get his heart to stop beating so fast, to put an end to the adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

You're spilling like an overflowing sink

As Morty was running, he felt tears stinging his eyes, he hated how he was starting to cry when stressed, Rick's bruising grip on his wrist wasn't helping either, Morty could already see the purple-blueish marks that were starting to blossom like flowers on his wrists. 

Morty squeaked "R-Rick...your grip...you're hurting me..."

Morty cringed at how pathetic he sounded. His inner voice made it clear that he sounded pathetic 

"Jesus, crying like a little baby back bitch." Morty sniffed and Rick rolled his eyes "There are more important thing to worry about Morty!" Rick barked. Morty looked up at him with watery eyes and let out a pitiful "Please...?' Rick groaned "Jesus fucking Christ." Instead of loosening his grip like a normal person, Rick pulled Morty closer, and hoisted him over his shoulder, one of his hands on Morty's back as he used his other to shoot the beast that was hunting them. Morty blinked "Rick what-" Rick barked "Shut up." 

Morty's inner voice mocked "Forcing Rick to carry you like you're a fucking baby...God you're pathetic." Morty didn't force him to do this! But he hated himself as he felt a comfort at his touch, his body instinctively yielding to Rick's touch. Jeez, he really was Rick's lapdog wasn't he?

You're ripped at every edge, but you're a masterpiece, and now you're tearing through the pages and the ink (mmm, mmm)

After that adventure Morty was dry heaving and Rick looked away, patting Morty's back. Morty felt tears sting his eyes.

"Look at you, Christ you are such a big baby."

That did it.

All the emotion he was holding in all day came out as Morty began crying and dove into Rick's chest, sobbing in his chest while clutching his lab coat with an iron-fisted grip. Rick put his arms up, unsure what to do with them, he looked around awkwardly then placed them around Morty. "Hey buddy...wh-wha-*burp*-t ha-what's wrong buddy?" Morty sniffled.

"Look at you, clinging to him, he hates you. I know he does." 

That just made Morty cry harder. 

"I-I'm sorry Rick...I-I'm so needy...so clingy...you must hate me..."

"Morty..."

"I-I made you carry me! Y-you had to carry me on our adventure! L-Like I was some kind of...like some kind of child!" 

Rick began rubbing Morty's back in comforting circle as Morty locked his arms around Rick's neck as tears flooded from his eyes. 

Rick sighed "Morty...c'mon...you know I don't..." 

Rick's jaw clenched.

He couldn't let himself finish that sentence. 

"You know what happens when you love people." Rick inner voice bitterly reminded him of. "Remember what happened with Diane?" Rick bit his lip until he the metallic tasting blood coated his tongue. 

"You know I..." The words died on Rick's blood soaked tongue.

He sighed and just hugged Morty as Morty bawled his eyes out on Rick's chest.

Everything is blue

Rick sat down in his office, staring up into the ceiling. 

"You're such an asshole." 

Rick needed something to numb the pain.

His pills, 

Rick took out a canister of opioid pills, and swallowed them, his eyes immediately dialed, leaving a small sliver of blue left, he giggled as he felt the euphoria take over, making everything else seem but also his stomach churned, as he suddenly felt the need to throw up, he clutched his stomach, laughing breathy. As he tried his best to ignore the tears filling his eyes.

His hands, his jeans

Morty looked at his hands, breathing heavily as the teal blood of Mr. Jellybean was coating his hands, the sickening warmness on his hands, his breathing heavied as he clutched the stall door, quiet sobs rattled from his chest, hugging his knees. Not caring that the teal blood stained his jeans. He hated being in the same stall as that sick fuck, He buried his face in his jeans, slobber and tears darkening his jeans in dark spots.

And now I'm covered in the colors, pulled apart at the seams, and it's blue, and it's blue

Morty was on yet another adventure with Rick, he had no say in it, did he? He always was going to get dragged on these adventures, whether he liked it or not. 

It doesn't matter if he didn't feel like it.

It doesn't matter if he's so sick he can barely move.

It doesn't matter if he got no sleep last night.

It doesn't matter if it was dangerous.

It doesn't matter if Morty could die during the adventure.

He always needed to go with Rick.

Always.

"Because you're nothing but a pathetic lapdog to Rick." Morty's inner voice commented.

Morty's shoulder slumped.

It was right.

It was always right...

Everything is grey

Rick laid down on his bed, trying to find a reason to get out, which always got more and more difficult. His entire world felt grey. Numb. Bleak. Tired. Damp. Nothing matters, he knew that. So why bother doing anything? Why not just go to sleep forever? Why even live? Lord knows Rick hates himself anyway...he hated his life, he hated everything.

Rick thought of Morty, that's right...that's why he was still alive...he hated that kid...

"Oh shut up, you love him, you shouldn't feel anything you know what happens when you love people, they die or leave you, and y'know what? I don't blame them. You deserve it." Rick's inner voice snubbed

No he doesn't.

"Keep telling yourself that..." Rick's inner voice said.

Well...Rick wanted to hate him.

But it's not his fault!

It's Morty's!

It's not like it's Rick's fault that Morty's smile radiated pure innocence, so much so that it reminded Rick that there was still some good in this broken universe, it wasn't Rick's fault that the way Morty looked at Rick with so much trust in his eyes, the trust the he didn't deserve, the look that made Rick almost feel like he wasn't a huge piece of shit and hate himself at the same time, it wasn't Rick's fault that Morty was able to ground Rick into the world the way nobody else was able to..the way he was his little buddy, his partner, his best friend, his...

...

His reason to live...

...

Rick hated almost everything.

His hair.

Rick ran a hand through his grayish light blue hair. His hands nearly instinctively reached for his cigarette.

"Of course you fucking reach for the cigarettes, you fucking addict." His inner voice criticized. 

Rick reached for a cigarette. Smoking the whole thing in one breath.

His smoke

Rick exhaled, the grey smoke filling up the garage. Rick coughed, but only a little. He got used to it. Used to the metal in his lungs, he could always get new ones, so why did it matter?

The back of his throat was itchy, God it was annoying, but he could always reverse it.

His mouth became dry, but he could always make a device to wet his lips again, or just fucking lick them, he could also just drink alcohol, like how he always did. He has burned through so many livers.

Why did anything matter?

If you're a man who can do anything you want, why even try anymore?

Any negative effects of anything can easily be removed, so what's the point?

Why take care of yourself?

That was Rick's thought process, at least. 

I mean, he certainly didn't like himself enough to take care of him, so why put in the effort when he can be doing more important things?

His dreams

Y'know Rick's old dream was to kill Rick Prime.

He has fantasized about it so, so many times.

It was going to be an epic battle.

Or at least that's what Rick always thought.

But here he was.

Punching Rick Prime while he was strapped to a chair.

He saw the life drain from his eyes, heard him gurgling on his own blood, saw him become motionless, expecting to feel some happiness, or hell, I don't know...satisfaction?

He just killed the guy who killed his wife.

But he felt nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

And now he's so devoid of color, he don't know what it means and he's blue and he's blue...

Whenever the effects of the drugs Rick took worse off, he would take more. Or he would just drink alcohol.

When the effects of his alcohol wear off. He took more.

He always just wanted more, more, more.

He was never satisfied. He always just felt empty.

There was a hole in him.

It just took more, more, more.

It was never satisfied. 

Never.

It numbed him at least.

Made the voices quieter.

Made the voices got further and further away...until Rick almost couldn't hear them

...

Almost.

Numbed him to everything.

Made him forget how much he hated himself.

It didn't matter how much it destroyed him.

How ashamed he felt about himself after.

How much he regretted what he did when he was drunk.

It didn't matter how much it isolated himself from his family.

He didn't care.

He liked being alone.

So why did he always want to cry when he was alone...?

Whatever.

It helped for the moment.

Made him feel relaxed, euphoric.

He felt pure ecstasy for the moment.

It was only for a moment.

He always felt like shit afterwards...

But...the pure, raw, unfiltered, ecstasy...

That made it worth it in the end...

...

Right...?

...

I-it made it worth it

...

Please tell him it made it worth

[valeriel]

thinking about jade knight’s alcohol dependency and how it’s such an interesting character trait to include with the wronged; something about allowing yourself to give in to addiction when you’ve been through so much. something about allowing yourself to give in because you’re so strong and you kept your head down and powered through your troubles with it, so what’s the problem of continuing that behavior? Will there be a point that you can maintain your strength, even without the promise of alcohol to relax after the battle? idk,,,, im just always thinking about jade knight

[ekholocationn]

drinking myself dizzy

[dooodle-bug]

*You made a memorable and charming toast to Queen!

[ask-cheesy-ii]

”jeez…. He really is just like Hollyberry Cookie��”

-😶🤐

”Huhh?? Wuzzaf?”

[gray-ace-space]

I (grayace, 20s) think being underage (and your social circle) can affect whether you like to drink or not. I didn't like alcohol the few times I tried it in my teens but I really enjoyed drinking when I lucked into a good friend group as an adult.

Also I have found that usually don't get horny when drunk but it did happen once haha. Didn't actually try to sleep with anyone tho. Tbh I love getting drunk because I'm really cheerful and extroverted when I'm drunk and I'm afraid to be like that sober because it's harder to play it off if I embarass myself.

oh certainly! there's a lot of factors in why someone might not like drinking and it often changes with age. but that's not really the focus of the poll.

hard relate about being more extroverted when drunk. i'm not really like a happy drunk or whatever, i'm just the drunk who won't shut up. because in my sober state i am hyper aware of everything i do and say and everything around me which is just. constant mental pain. and the main reason i drink. definitely a hot conversation topic in therapy. but it's never made me more interested in anything sexual so that's kinda baffling.

thank you for sharing!

[inky-evergreen]

I think that HE thinks he's a bad friend but idk

[anaskunk]

my family having a serious conversation about alcohol problems in our relatives and then i hit them with that “the only thing im addicted to is animal jam”

[botanikos]

Has Stolas ever plucked due to stress?

Absolutely! Stolas has engaged in self-mutilation and neglectful habits on more than one occasion due to high levels of stress, anxiety, and depression. These instances typically only occur whenever he goes without his medication, but can, on some occasions, crop up unannounced. Some days are harder than others. Believe it or not, his self-esteem is actually quite low at times, and it is easy for those thoughts to sink their claws in and drag him down.

Some things he is prone to: plucking, isolating, brief periods of starvation, binge eating, excessive drinking, insomnia, over-sleeping, pacing, elemental exposure [ where / when / if applicable ].