Cw Alcohol - Tumblr Posts

in one of our math courses, the prof brought up chemistry. as a joke, i asked my friend if she wanted to just... walk out and get lunch. she thought i said "do you wanna walk out and get drunk" at 10am and if that ain't the chaotic academic mood idk what is

Clipped my tits and clit while on call a friend (drunk as hell),

And fuck, I am horny as hell, I just want to be taken advantage of

It'd be so easy to take advantage of. Start rubbing up my cunt and making me wet and whimper for you.

Tell me to open my mouth, and I'll start to drool for you. I'll be your little open wet hole for you to use

A fun night with my friends ☆°•

Based from:

The Bird Leaves the Nest

⚠️ Mention of alcohol at end ⚠️

Vaude fell to his knees. They made a resounding crack as they met the hard, worn wooden floor of his shack. He clung to Wildcat’s pants leg like his life depended on it, and in a way, it did. His body hunched over her boots as a tsunami of tears flowed from him. His voice came out in broken sobs.

“Momma, please don’t go. I’ll do anything to keep you here.”

Wildcat looked down. A frown creased her lips as she looked over her shoulder at John, then back down to her adopted son. She rested a hand on Vaude’s arm and gently pried him off. Vaude looked up in disbelief as he scrambled backward on his hands and feet.

“I’m sorry, baby bird, I have to go on this mission. John needs me.”

John held her hand and gave it a small squeeze before they walked out of the crumbling shack. Vaude stood abruptly and stumbled after his mother and father. He cursed his limp under his breath and shouted after them, but his voice was too hoarse, and they were already gone.

Vaude was left alone once again. He limped over to his chair in front of the fireplace and plopped down. He reached beside him and picked up a brown glass bottle from the crate that served as a makeshift table. For the next few nights, Vaude distorted his memories with the bootlegged swamp liquid.

since you’ve been showing us drunk followers lately I want to know what lamb is like when drunk (ik they probably don’t get drunk often but I wanna know so badly)

(Old ask, because i didnt have any ideas for it until recently so uwu)

Who better to get drunk with than the ex god of chaos? Only they are both pretty chill and just spend the night singing songs together 🎶

FROM AFAR | PJM

Pairing: Yandere! Professor Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 3.4K

Warning(s): Obsessive behavior, somnophilia, NONCON touching + video recording, smut, mentions of infidelity, drugs, alcohol, (11 year age gap) reader is 18!

Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with the topics above.

A/N: Hi! Here’s an EXTREMELY late valentine’s gift for each and everyone of you, but better late than never, am I right?

What a sick sweetness he carried. The love he possessed for a forbidden woman, a woman eleven years his junior. She was so immensely intelligent, so sweet and kind, so meek that it would melt his heart like butter whenever she would approach his desk unaware of his pounding heart, excessively beating in his chest, caused by her delightful presence.

Keep reading

just dance it off (18+)

➵ Pairing: Jimin x Female Reader

➵ Summary: When you hear that you are cast as the female lead in the upcoming end of the semester show, you are completely thrilled. That is, until you hear who your partner is…

➵ Genres: smut | angst | fluff

➵ AU: dancers | enemies to lovers

➵ Word Count: 9.4k

➵ Rating: explicit | mature | 18+

➵ Warnings: explicit and unprotected sex | jealousy | masturbation | mentions & use of alcohol | underage drinking | use of fake ID | mild exhibitionism | creampie | hair pulling | angry sex | nipple play | degradation | dirty talk | overstimulation | heavy teasing & banter | edging | orgasm denial

➵ Other: if you’d like to join my tag list please fill out this form.

Keep reading

ego killer | jjk (1)

summary — campus fuck-boy and notorious flirt can’t keep his eyes off you, but you’re unfazed by his remarks. That all changes when he takes it too far at a party and you’ve officially had enough. 

genre — smut (e2l, fuck-boy!jk, club-president!reader)

word count — 10k

warnings — unprotected sex, thigh riding, fingering, tongue sucking, oral sex (female receiving), breath play, biting, hair pulling, hickeys, jks dad is an asshole, mentions of abuse and alcohol consumption, swearing

one | two | three | 

masterlist || request

Just as you’re convinced your day couldn’t possibly get any worse, an unwelcome student decides to pull up the seat next to you. Out of every other chair in this one-hundred-plus lecture theatre, Jeon Jungkook just has to sit here. He’s the notorious campus fuck-boy, ladies’ man and everything else that comes with looking like that; dark, wavy hair, pretty eyes, and body proportions out of this world. You won’t deny that he’s attractive, but looks like that only cause trouble and you have a squeaky-clean reputation to maintain. 

“Morning, gorgeous.” He gazes at your face as he awaits a response, but you decide it’s in your best interest to ignore him.

Huge mistake!

Your silence ignites something in him and he makes it his mission to get some kind of reaction. Anything. Maybe a little smile, a laugh, or even a classic eye-roll.

“Playing hard to get. I like it.”

This is so very like him. If he’s not on the receiving end of attention, he convinces himself that there’s an ulterior motive. Your reasoning; you hate him with your whole mind, body, and soul, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck about his shallow compliments, OR if he’s nearing 6ft, OR if he’s the president of multiple social, theatre, and fitness clubs, AND has the record for the highest number of members in a non-educational club! No, you couldn’t care less!

Out of the handful of ridiculous names he’s given his clubs, one has been titled ‘GAINS’ — Gym and Important Nutrition Society. Classic, right? But, despite the negative feelings you have toward him and everything else he does, other students seem to love him. His toned biceps and thick thighs make a very compelling ‘join us’ statement, too.

In contrast and in the good name of education, you formed a marketing club and handed yourself the president badge. And, ever since then, you’ve been doing your bit as an official influencer to students who actually want to learn something from college.

“I can see your panties, by the way.” He adds and you want to drop dead from humiliation. Scratch that. You want to send a pencil through his eye socket for being such a pervert!

An embarrassed heat threatens to crawl up the side of your neck at his observation. Your skirt isn’t even that short! He’s just a boy with a huge ego, eager eyes and a dirtier mouth. But, to save yourself from further humiliation, you tug the fabric down your thighs and tightly cross your legs until the circulation of blood in your legs becomes a little unbalanced. 

“Hey, I wasn’t complaining. You’re hot as hell.” His eyes wander down the length of your bare legs. It’s so obvious that he’s checking you out. He’s practically leaning all the way back in his chair to get a good look. “Even if you wear Hello Kitty panties.”

Oh my god! Please shut the fuck up!

Keep reading

this song is about crowley & aziraphale now sorry i don't make the rules

@thewrongsorts​ || cont.

trying to make sirius talk these days wasn’t something you’d like to get yourself into. no matter the time, no matter the new trick one could come up with or the joint efforts of people he had genuinely loved, the result seemed to always go a little bit like this: gritted teeth and warning barks; white knuckles, screaming and a series of banged doors. for—the person that had came back from the department of mysteries was ( at least in appearance ) the sirius that had roamed the halls of grimmauld place, though, for him, it hardly felt like the victory so many had tried to make him see. 

no, if anything, he felt like this was punishment. penance for the carcass left behind. 

so—when she answered to the loose words that had slipped his mouth ( barely an excuse to make his way to the bar, grab the nearest bottle he could find and leave the scene ) it had been but a miracle that his first reaction wasn’t to storm out of the room but the complete opposite of that—he stayed. frozen in place, a little tremor in his breath, but he stayed. his features hidden from her given the position he was in and the tense waiting of the uncertain, livid in his stance. and perhaps—maybe, it had something to do with her story. one he hadn’t connected with until just now, but one that he knew almost too well. he was living a part of it, after all. 

“ like—you stole those words right out of my mouth, that’s how i feel. ” he flashed her the last remnants of a smile, boyish charm and a little bitterness in it. an amber-coloured stream filling his glass which he sipped before tilting the drink her way, an invitation to get her something alike now that they were about to have a little chat.

“ though the baby part i barely got over a few years ago, kid sprout up like crazy when the last memory i have of him was something a little bit like—this ” he showed her making a space with his hands of the size harry had been, last time he have held him in one of his visits. another fond grin visiting his features, at least briefly. “ neville, right? your boy. had a chance to talk with him these days, or…? ”

hi i’m rambling abt shit

dude ok i hage washing pots. not because i’m lazy or anything but because it physically hurts my already aching wrists !!! and whenever i bring this uo!! my fuckin dad is like “yeah you’ve got osteobonehurtyarthriris of your left wrist and a shoelace in the right and we’re gonna have to punp you with a big needle” like dude i’m sorry i can’t ?? wash a pot. ??? because i havé something wrong with my wrists???

and then i’ll get upset and my mom is like “well he’s just aggravating you on purpose, his dad was like that” ????? THAT DOES???? NOT MAKE ANY SESNE ??? DUDE HE WAS AN ALcoHolic do you see me chugging beer .

and then SOMEtimes i’ll be like “well he’s bipolar.. maybe i should get over it” NO babe you are 17 years old almost BREATHE babygirl he won’t hurt you anymore….. kisses mhself…. sorry i got gay at the end

Tbh you have to make use of your weekdays or life will pass you by like …drink on the job read articles on the job do your laundry on the job.

Just realized I forgot to update my age in my bio on my last birthday. I can drink beer that I buy with my own money because I am so cool and I am 21 just so you guys all know B)

— stolen glances.

 ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌«she smiled and looked at me»  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ «i was surprised to see»  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌«that a woman like that was really into me»

summary: awkward glimpses at the bar and mutual interest in each other's person turned into a rather pleasant walk home. content: chris redfield x gn reader tags: pure fluff, comfort, mentions of alcohol, not much plot. author's note: wanted to write something new with chris but in the middle of the work i feeled a little bit insecure, so maybe i will even take this work down, but still, hope you'll enjoy! enjoy your reading) 🥃

The bar exuded a warm, inviting atmosphere that beckoned tired souls seeking solace, dimmed light illuminating the polished wood surfaces with soft light, creating an atmosphere of calm and seclusion from the outside world, the low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses and quiet music harmoniously combined to form a soothing backdrop for Chris's Redfield visits.

Chris entered through the worn wooden door, his heavy boots muting the plush carpet beneath him, his broad shoulders visibly relaxed as he entered the hideout, the burden of past missions and horrors he had witnessed slowly dissipating, the smell of aged wood and worn leather greeted his senses, recalling the familiar comfort he found in this place.

He took his usual seat at the far end of the bar from where he could watch the room without being the center of attention, the bartenders knew him well and served him his favorite drink without question, a simple glass of bourbon, he sipped it slowly, enjoying the copious warmth that seeped through him, offering respite from the chilling memories that often haunted his thoughts.

But one fateful day, as if the universe conspired to give him a short respite, he saw you, you were a flash of color and life in a dimly lit room, your hair fell like silk, framing your face that seemed to radiate a gentle radiance, lurking in your eyes a depth that is both mysterious and alluring, like uncharted territory that he yearned to explore.

The moment your gaze met his for a moment, time seemed to stop, your soft, bright smile was like a beacon cutting through the shadows and warming the corners of his heart, his cheeks flushed as he turned away, feeling as if went into a trance, for a man who has faced monsters and survived battles, the mere act of meeting your eyes made him feel vulnerable, like a schoolboy enchanted by his first love.

He glanced when he could, his attention was drawn to you like a moth to a flame, every time your eyes met his heart fluttered in his chest and he quickly looked away, feigning casualness, although his thoughts were consumed by you, the way you were chatting with the bartender, the laughter that graced your lips was like a symphony playing in tune with his own desires.

Your fleeting presence became his secret refuge within this haven, he found solace not only in the cozy atmosphere of the bar, but also in your glances, although he never got the courage to approach, he found a strange satisfaction, just sharing space with you, bathed in your unearthly glow in the distance.

True, despite the cozy familiarity of the bar, whenever Chris thought about approaching you, there was an atmosphere of unease around Chris, he sat in his usual place day after day, the smooth wooden surface of the counter was worn away under his fingertips, his unfinished drink stood before him, forgotten as he wrestled with his thoughts and insecurities.

His gaze inevitably darted to you, gracefully sitting at the far end of the room from him behind the bar, you were like a shining star in a dimly lit atmosphere, captivating not only his eyes but also his heart, trying to talk to you, bridge the gap between your two worlds constantly pulled him, nevertheless, he was held captive by nervousness and fear of going beyond his borders.

He squeezed his glass, feeling the cool condensation on its surface with his fingers, watching you talk to the bartender or share a laugh with other patrons, the thought swirled in his head to buy you a drink, a simple gesture that could potentially open the door to conversation, but as soon as an idea formed, doubts crept into him, causing him to hesitate.

Instead, he opted for subtlety, his gaze turning to you from time to time, furtively darting glances when he thought you weren't looking, hoping to remember every detail of your presence, the soft curve of your smile, the way your hair reflected light and how your eyes shined when you laughed — every moment crashed into his memory like a treasured photograph.

There were times when you turned your gaze in his direction and his heart skipped a beat, your eyes met, a fleeting connection from which a shiver ran down his spine, in those short seconds his thoughts raced, his mind desperately searched for something to say, but before he mustered up the courage act, you will turn away, once again immersed in your own world.

It was a dance of missed opportunities, Chris was a man of action on the battlefield, but in matters of the heart he was trapped by the inertia of uncertainty, he would watch you, his feelings build like a crescendo until the weight of his own hesitation made him retreat, there were nights when he finished his drink and, without saying a word, slipped out of the bar, leaving behind only the memories of his stolen looks.

The atmosphere of the bar was a quiet symphony of glances and unspoken desires, but he wasn't the only one to glance, your eyes were drawn to him with an almost magnetic attraction in return, every time he looked away you allowed yourself to cast fleeting glances in his direction, your heart fluttered with anticipation and shyness.

Talk and laughter filled the air, but your attention was often drawn to the corners where he sat, the ambient light seemed to create a halo around his body, bathing him in a soft and inviting light, and as you sipped your drink, you couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to recognize him if not counting stolen glances is a mixture of excitement and vulnerability that has you biting your lip in awkward contemplation.

Your thoughts were a whirlwind of possibilities, dreams that danced like fireflies in the night, there was a longing in the atmosphere, a longing for connection beyond stolen moments, every time he looked away you let your eyes follow his movement, capturing him on your periphery, as if you were stealing a glimpse of a world you weren't sure you could enter.

But just as quickly as those thoughts came, you brushed them aside, the reality of the situation and its uncertainty clouding your vision was a reminder that sometimes dreams are best left as dreams, the taste of the drink and the laughter of friends provided an anchor in the present, plunging you into a world that was both familiar and safe.

Biting the lip became a reflex, a gesture reflecting the internal conflict you felt, the desire to know it, to break the barrier of stolen glances fought against the apprehension that often accompanies the unknown, the atmosphere was a dance between what could have been and what was, each stolen a look and a fleeting thought was a step in the choreography of emotions.

Little by little the atmosphere in the bar changed slightly — the days turned into weeks, and there was not even a hint of his presence around, the dim light that once glowed with a warm and inviting light now casts longer shadows, creating an atmosphere of uncertainty, conversations always continued around you and laughter, but a hidden unease began to be felt as your eyes searched involuntarily for his familiar figure.

There seemed to be an air of melancholy in the air, as if the very walls of the bar reflected the absence that engulfed your heart, each visit to the bar became a mixture of hopes and disappointments, your gaze lingered on the empty place where he usually sat, conversations that once attracted your attention seemed to fade into the background while your thoughts were consumed by the question of where he might have gone.

The bar, once a place of socializing and stealthy glances, now had an atmosphere of uncertainty, the bartenders smiling sympathetically, perhaps realizing that the silent search had become a routine, and the surroundings seemed to hold a quiet longing, as if the very air was waiting for his return to restore disturbed balance.

The introduction to the bar became a place where memories of stolen glances and shared moments flourished, but also a reminder of his absence, the emptiness of his usual place seeming to cast a shadow over all that had previously been able to brighten the space.

Time dragged on and there was a sense of protracted anticipation in the atmosphere, a desire to see him again intertwined with growing uncertainty.

Did he move on? Did he just take a break?

Questions went unanswered and the bar became a canvas for a story that was shelved.

And then on a day marked by an unexpected change in the daily routine, fate intervened, you left the bar through the side entrance, your thoughts were focused on something other than your usual routine, and at exactly the same time Chris was about to enter, his steps carried him to the harbor, which became both his refuge and his torment.

The collision was as unexpected as it was awkward — your worlds collided in a moment of unforeseen connection, his strong body met your smaller one and the impact pierced both of you, the smell of cigarettes and inviting perfume enveloping the space between you, creating an atmosphere both intoxicating and familiar.

For a brief moment he took over your thoughts and questions and uncertainties were replaced by a mixture of surprise and curiosity, for a moment time seemed to stop as his presence engulfed your thoughts, his deep eyes, usually directed down or across the room, now met yours in the most unexpected circumstances.

— «I'm sorry for that» he muttered in a deep voice tinged with amusement, his eyes both apologetic and curious, as if he was seeing you for the first time even though you had been in his thoughts for weeks.

— «No harm done)» you managed to mutter, and there was nervousness in your voice, a blush flooded your cheeks, your heart beat wildly, the closeness of this person who used to be a distant figure suddenly became tangible and real, and the conversation between you went on its own.

The conversation flowed suddenly, like a river bursting its banks, awkward cheers turned into stories and shared laughter, as if your unspoken bond had finally found a voice, the atmosphere between you changed from vague to comfortable, the background of the bar became secondary, and our words danced in the air.

His laughter, warm and sincere, was like music in harmony with the rhythm of your heart, and the initial awkwardness was replaced by a sense of familiarity that seemed both natural and inspiring, as we talked, the world around him seemed to disappear, leaving only his presence and common moments.

Minutes turned into moments, and the air was filled with tension, promising something more, with a spark in his eyes, he offered — «You know, i could walk you home, that's the least i can do after i almost hit you»

The invitation hung in the air, a question shrouded in vulnerability and hope, you felt a warmth rise inside you, a mixture of surprise and delight at the prospect of expanding your newfound bond of acquaintance, so with a smile reflecting the moonlit night, you nodded — «I wouldn't mind»

His coat thrown abruptly around your shoulders was a physical manifestation of his presence, a symbol of the closeness that grew between you as you walked side by side, your steps echoed in harmony, there was almost no gap between you, everything around you was filled with unspoken electricity, a palpable connection that seemed to draw you closer with every step.

Conversations flowed easily, interspersed with general laughter and instinctive touches, the coat around you became a common shield from the cold night air, creating a cocoon of intimacy, enveloping the two of you, with every moment the distance between your bodies seemed to shrink until it felt like you were walking side by side. side by side, not just in space, but in the sphere of common emotions.

And when you came to your doorstep, tenderness played in his eyes, which reflected the emotions that were seething inside you — «I had a great time tonight» you confessed, your voice was a low whisper.

— «Me too» he replied, his voice a gentle whisper that resonated deep inside, the bond between you was undeniable — built through stolen glances and shared conversations.

— «Will I be able to see you again?» he asked, and the question hung in the air like a promise.

With a smile that contained all the hope and possibility of a new beginning, you nodded — «I would like to)»

When he said goodnight to you his fingers touched yours, a touch containing the promise of what was to come, everything was captured by the magic of the moment, and when he left, leaving you on the doorstep, you couldn't help but feel that the walls of the bar, when — then silent witnesses of stolen glances, now they keep echoes of a connection that has finally found its voice.

[ taglist: @roseglazedlens, @sporeghost, @daydreamrot ] dm me if you want to be tagged in my works.

© dmitriene - my masterlist please, don't copy my works as your own, and if you want to post them somewhere else - contact me. reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

Hello my friends! I have created a secondary blog!

@justahimbo !!

While this is my main blog and I will continue to use this frequently, I need a space that's not directly for my agere and I can have some more adult themes like my latest hyperfixations or other interests that aren't kiddo safe. This will not be a very safe environment for little eyes and I have already put MDNI in that bio.

I really aim to let my agere blog be a true safe space for all minors and littles, regression AND sys littles, and so this blog may shift a bit in content but should ultimately be a better spot for younger eyes.

I really feel the need to stress this. The new blog is not for minors or regressed folks. This blog will include content from adult shows, fanarts, reblogs and the like- and also may have some system content or things like drugs/alcohol mentioned. This blog will be a lot more grown up than my regression blog and I won't be censoring myself nearly as much as I do here.

I absolutely understand that this won't be everyone's cup of tea, and I don't intend it to be. I'm still working on building it up to be what I really want but there's my announcement. I've never been active on two blogs at once so I'd really appreciate some grace with the small transition, and any advice is appreciated! If I screw up, please call me out and I'll fix it ASAP!

Tldr: I'm making a second blog thats 18+ but not kink. MINORS DNI! Current agere blog will hopefully be better at being safe for all youngins now.

Thanks for reading <3

Having started drinking in his late teens, Roman has exceptional alcohol tolerance. Few days go by where he doesn’t have at least one drink in some form or another, be it shots of whiskey in strong coffee to keep him going during long nights or enjoying a glass of expensive wine while conducting business deals. He very rarely gets drunk enough to completely lose all inhibition, even if he’s consumed enough to knock most other men off their feet but enjoying alcohol as much as he does makes his stays at Arkham both difficult and unpleasant - not just for him but asylum staff also.

no more catboys. catmen . 28 yr old washed up depressed catman downing his 5th whiskey glass and his cat ears twitch depressedly

Some art I did recently

So as far as drinking goes; Lily does do it sometimes but she is a LIGHT WEIGHT. It doesn't take much to get her tipsy and then she can become super giggly and emotional.

She's tried hard liquor and shots a few times in the past but they tend to knock her on her ass immediately, so she won't touch them unless she's in a place where she feels very secure.

Unless someone wakes her up the next day she will simply hibernate through her hangover and can sleep for up to two days depending on how much she had and how badly she crashed.

cw: alcohol

Mellow casually goes with their own beer. Mellow: "What? I am not gonna cheat! Your beer leaves me sober. Unless I drink ten cans or more"

Mellow from Bulgaria, btw