#TW: Drinking

[dabislittlemouse]

Dabi who is controlling does something to me, despite me being a person who hates being controlled.

It’s so fucking hot I can’t even explain, him being assertive and controlling your every move, who you talking to on the phone, you have to give him the names of all your coworkers/friends, and pray for those who happen to be men.

Always asking for his permission if you happen to go on a night out, if he’s in a good mood he’ll let you, though he will pick what you wear (like he does most of the time). That, or he will come with you as well, making sure you don’t get drunk and do something stupid, watching over you in case some asshole tries to hit on you. His eyes never leaving your figure, if you try to disobey and act like a brat he’ll drag you out forcefully, slam you into the nearest alley and fuck your brains out, not caring about being seen, until you are a whimpering mess and asking for forgiveness.

Sometimes he also takes you to his place, though don’t try to be too friendly with the rest of the League unless he lets you to. All it takes is one look, and you’ll zip your mouth shut before talking too much around Twice or Mr Compress.

Dabi’s hand will always be wrapped around your waist, or placed in your shoulder, playing with your hair, on your back, everywhere. As long as you are with him, don’t think of leaving his side, his possessive grip says it all. The control he has over you makes you putty in his hands, you can’t stand up against him for too long even if you want to. Maybe it’s the aura he has, he can intimidate you just by his glare, those cerulean eyes making your sudden bravery shrink and disappear. And when you do or say something bad, you’d expect him all angry and harsh towards you at first but no. He’s calm, his voice is unsettlingly soft while he asks you “What was that again? Didn’t hear ya, repeat it once again for me sweetheart”. That’s all it takes for your tough facade to crack.

[valc0]

Day1: Late Night/Early Morning

Husk found them like this the next day kjashdksdhfkj

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 10

part 1 | part 9 | ao3

cw: recreational drinking

When they get to Eddie’s trailer, Steve’s mom is sitting on the couch, eyes unblinking as she watches the TV.

There’s just static on the screen.

“Steve?” she slurs when she finally realizes they’re there. Sways a little when she stands. There’s a dreamy quality to her voice, a blank look on her tired face: agreeable but distant, a smudge of campfire smoke curling far over the trees.

Double-dosed her pills again. Jesus Christ.

“Oh, Stevie, baby, it was just awful.” She reaches out for him, and he wishes he could find comfort in the way she cups his elbows with delicate hands. Wishes he could lean into her touch and offer comfort in return, but her tone is so dull and mild that bile rises in his throat. Chemical calm bullshit, and Steve has had enough.

“Ma, just…” he sighs, shrugging her off. Scrubs a hand over his face. Too young and too old for this. “Just go home, okay?” The street is quiet again, all the neighbors tucked back in their houses now that the show has run its course. He doesn’t think anyone will notice her stumbling across the road. “Get some rest. I’ll be over in a bit.”

“Sure, baby.” He leads her to the door, and she turns there on the threshold, eyes glassy and unfocused; looks through him like he’s a ghost. Then her gaze shifts around the room — the hats, the mugs, the clutter; the lived-in explosion of color that Steve’s annoyed he likes so much — like she’s just seeing it all for the first time, and absently, she murmurs, “This place is dreadful, isn’t it?”

“Mom.”

“Hmm?” she asks, but she’s already drifting out the door.

Steve’s face is on fire. He stands there for a moment, just staring dumbly out into the dark. What the hell is wrong with her??

Behind him, Eddie snorts. "Oh, she’s on the good shit, huh?”

Steve whips his head around. Eddie’s eyes are full of mirth, his dimple peeking out, and it startles a laugh out of Steve. He thinks maybe he’d take offense if he weren't so busy being mortified.

But also, like.

It is a little funny.

Or maybe it’s so unfunny that it circles back around.

“Jesus, man,” he huffs, “Sorry. I don’t— I don’t know why she…”

“S’fine,” Eddie says with a casual flick of his wrist. Seems like he means it. He rocks back on his heels, hands in his back pockets, just sort of eyeing Steve up. Assessing. Running his tongue over his lips. They're big, for a guy's. “…You want a beer?”

“Fuck.” That sounds so nice. “Yeah. Please.”

“Have a seat.”

Steve takes the offer when Eddie nods at the couch, too tired to do the whole song and dance of ‘oh heavens no, I couldn’t possibly impose.’ Who’s got the energy for that?

The couch is old. His skull thuds against the un-cushioned back when he sinks down into it, but he’s too tired to care. Worn out as the lumpy springs under his ass, the frayed fabric beneath his arm. A wave of exhaustion rattles his bones, reverberates in his teeth. He thinks he could sleep for sixteen years.

Eddie clears his throat when he comes back with the beers, a sudden cautiousness about him as he hands Steve an unopened can like Steve might claw him in return.

"Sit down," Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm not gonna bite."

Eddie makes a strangled noise. The springs bounce as he plops onto the seat beside Steve, sitting sideways with one leg up on the couch between them, his arm resting on the back. "So, ah...." He gives a wavering chuckle; pulls a lock of hair across his face to hide himself. "Is this the part where I formally apologize for trying to knife you?"

Ugh. No the fuck it isn't. Steve’s too drained for it, absolutely at capacity for more serious shit this evening, thanks; and besides that, it was...

Whatever. It's old news.

Instead of giving a real answer he reaches into his pocket, snicks his own knife open and pretends to brandish it at Eddie, asking, "Eye for an eye?"

Eddie's eyes go huge. "Dude, what the fuck??"

"Just fucking with you," Steve laughs, lifting the can up to his mouth. "But there; now we're even. Shoulda seen your face."

“Ah—!” Eddie’s jaw drops in offense. “Ex-cuse you!”

God, of course he’s more dramatic than all the kids combined.

Steve jabs the knife into his beer, pops the top and starts to chug, throat working as he gulps the whole thing down in four big sips. It tastes like frothy, bitter piss, but it's cold and it soothes the scratch in his throat.

Eddie lets out a low whistle. "Well, goddamn, Harrington."

"Is that supposed to impress me?" "You're not?"

Steve grins and wipes his mouth.

—

They get drunk pretty fast (Eddie refused to be upstaged in his own house, so one shot-gunned beer became two became four), and somewhere along the line the conversations get weird; hilarious and dumb. Saying shit just to say it, chipping away at the ice wall between them with bare fingernails.

Eddie hollers some shit like: "What are you even talking about?" and his arms fling out wide, almost spilling his beer. "The deep sea is so much scarier than the mountains!"

"Are you joking?" Steve throws back. "The mountains have, like, giant cats and shit! Birds of prey with wingspans the size of your van."

"Yeah, and the deep sea has eldritch monsters that live in volcano vents and hunt with no eyes and eat their young for fun or whatever the fuck. You ever heard of an anglerfish? Or a phantom anglerfish? Tell me that shit isn't right out of a Lovecraft story."

"A what story?"

"How am I the one who hasn’t graduated yet?"

Then later:

“Dude, Batman? Seriously?”

“He’s the world’s greatest detective!”

“He’s a greasy little weirdo. You only like him because of your whole…” Steve gestures at his tattoos.

“Whatever, Spiderfan.”

And later still:

"Okay, okay, okay. Fuck, marry, kill... Shit. Y’know this would really be easier in a town where so many people hadn’t died."

Steve grimaces at himself; expects Eddie to call him out. It’s too insensitive, too soon.

Eddie just cracks a grin and suggests, "Fuck, marry, revive?"

—

They talk for a long time. Eddie's kind of charming when he's not being a dick. A nice smile, deep laugh lines. Steve can almost see why the kids are so obsessed with him. He's never met someone so animated; feels like he's talking to a Saturday morning cartoon. The conversation mellows out after a while, and he doesn't realize he's dozed off until Eddie shakes him awake.

"Hey, man," he says, voice just above a whisper. "I'm going to bed. You're welcome to crash on the couch, but, uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I mean, your back is probably gonna hate you for it."

Steve rubs his fists against his eyelids and blinks himself awake. Feels jittery and weird, yanked out of the start of a bad dream. When he looks up he sees that he’s got his shoes up on the couch; and there’s dried drool on his chin, and all at once he feels embarrassed, off-balance and panicked like he missed the last step down a steep flight of stairs. Of course he's overstayed his welcome. He's being fucking rude. "My bad," he mutters as he jumps up off the couch. Stands up way too fast, makes his vision tilt and swirl. "I'll get out of your hair."

Eddie reaches for his arm. "Dude,” he says, “you're fine. You can stay if you want.”

Steve moves out of his hold. “Nah, get some sleep; I’ll see ya around.”

Eddie frowns at him, a little furrow between his brows, and somehow Steve feels like he’s in the wrong, like Eddie isn’t the one who just kicked him out.

Like maybe Steve’s just running away for a second time in one night. Always back and away, this guy.

Who's the fucking coward now?

—

part 11

y'all know the drill, tagging whoever commented on yesterday's installment provided your tumblr settings let me <;3 @thealwithnoname @violetsteve @manda-panda-monium @stuftzombie @bronwenmarie @aliea82 @slowandsteddie @acedorerryn @anne-bennett-cosplayer @ahsokatanoss @steveshairspray @hallucinatedjosten @estrellami-1 @ppunkpuppyy @stevesbipanic @silver-snaffles @yourmom-isgay @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @zombiecreatures @im-a-disgrace-to-humanity @faery-god @hotluncheddie @runninriot @a-little-unsteddie @teatimeeverybody @newtstabber @pearynice @hellion-child @cuips-not-cute @steddieas-shegoes @steves-strapcollection @loguine-linguine @griefabyss69

[sofiaruelle]

this tweet cured my depression.

new draw your OCs challenge just dropped under readmore

[watchyourbuck]

New 7x04 drinking game: take a shot every time Buck invades Tommy’s personal space before he even knows he’s attracted to him

[kneelingshadowsalome]

König doesn't drink wine. He likes beer very much, enjoys the shit out of a nice pils, bock or lager. He rarely drinks any spirits/pure booze and if you give him something too sweet, like a vodka mixer or a long drink he might throw up later. It just doesn't work for him. (Somehow Radler is ok)

Doesn't like tobacco or cigars, the smell of smoke makes him nauseous. Thinks himself weak for not having a system built for cigs and heavy drinking, his pals always drink him under the table even if he drinks only beer.

Also his tummy is sometimes upset :(

[yolexxx]

Tsams comic Pt.2

Pt.1

[archiarthur]

Drunk confession

Got inspired by this doodle (i got permission!!!) and gave it a go,its been rotting in my saves for ages but i finally did it

GO CHECK THEM OUT THEY COOK THO THAT'S THEIR SIDE ACCOUNT!

[clairefrser]

[dabislittlemouse]

Hello pretty( I can't call you pretty face cause I have no fucking idea how you might look like. I know you definitely are beautiful..so).

We all know that Dabi is really an aggressive man specially towards you. (oh another man just spoke to you? He looks at him with dead eyes even you suddenly freak out. He would punish you too, but in a "good way" at home.

But what if you are the type to not let any man talk to you. _oh the man is looking funny to you? You just place a kick in his balls._I have no idea, but I find it funny to know how would kidnapper!Dabi react to such a partner.

~shooting all my love towards you. Bye.🌕🍇

Hii dear anon, your lil comment made me blushhhsjddhjf (*^ω^*)

Dabi thinking his captive is a weak little thing, and you’ve become so obedient to him, out of fear. He doesn’t know you are actually tired of his jealousy, tired of constantly being “punished” just because a man decided to come up at you and flirt with you,touch you. You’re tired of men, how disgusting and annoying they are, catcalling you on the street and hanging around drunk and completely wasted like the trash they are, you have pent up rage that you decide to let out one night when a man dared to approach you on Dabi’s presence. But watching them burn to death had become the usual, this time you wanted to teach them their place, you were tired of being the damsel in distress, the princess who needs protection, you missed the feeling of standing up for yourself. So when Dabi saw you going off on that man, hitting him right between his legs and then punching him in the face, he just had to step in and drag you away, actually shocked to see this side of you. And he has to admit, he likes it, turns him on even. He lets you calm down for the rest of the night, not bothering you like he usually does, though he couldn’t help but throw comments here and there.

-“Seems like you aren’t as weak as ya look doll, I’m impressed” he says with a smug grin.

-“It’s kinda hot though, seeing you like this. Maybe from now on I should just let ya handle everything yourself, big girl..” he follows with a chuckle.

-“Damn, you really know who you belong to, don’t cha? You already have a man by your side, can’t let these lowlifes even breathe the same air as you can we?”

-“You gettin’ too brave lately. As hot as it is, don’t ever think of pulling that shit with me or you’ll see where that gets ya”

-“Very proud to call you my girl~”

God you just want to sleep.

[pileofmush]

don't crush the wings

pairing ➸ luffy x fem!reader

details ➸ tags: modern au! humor & spice! gratuitous use of the f-bomb // cw: no smut, but a little suggestive; drinking. everyone's at least 20 & this doesn't take place in america; reader wears a dress & is called a girl at one point // wc: 2k

a/n ➸ happy halloween! 🎃 muahahaha

“We are gonna get fucked up tonight,” Nami sings into your ear with a sharp giggle. She’s sitting on your lap, turned towards you with a long bottle in her dainty, manicured hand. Fishnets run up her thighs, up, up, up into her short black miniskirt, and the fabric rides up farther as she wiggles in your lap. 

“Or just fucked,” you mutter, side-eyeing your friend. You know for a fact that Nami has goals she plans to achieve by the end of the night, and they probably have something to do with a pretty girl whose name starts with ‘V’ and ends with ‘ivi’. 

It’s Halloweekend, a Friday night, and you’re pregaming in the shoddy little apartment you share with Nami and Usopp. Nami’s dressed to kill as an alluring vampire vixen, and Usopp’s fiddling with the zipper of his Party City superhero costume. Knowing your friends, you expect for a little mayhem to occur tonight. Especially considering the party you’ll be attending: hosted by none other than the ASL brothers. 

If there’s one things you can trust the ASL brothers to do, it’s to wreak havoc on society. If there’s a second thing you can trust the ASL brothers to do, it’s to throw a decent party. 

Nami swats your thigh at your remark and thrusts the bottle into your hands. “Drink more,” she orders. “You’re not nearly drunk enough.” You fumble for your Hello Kitty shot glass and pour liquor into your glass.

“Just drink from the bottle,” Nami chides, fingers curling around the hem of your dress. You take this in stride; sink into the spotty old couch Usopp salvaged from a flea market with a sigh. Nami’s a flirty drinker: you know this. Get a couple drinks in her and she’ll get touchy and bossy—or, bossier than she already is. The girl cocks her chin up at you in challenge. “Don’t be a pussy.” She’ll also get mouthy.

You reject her protests with a minute shake of your head. “No way.” Usopp trots over from across the room with a matching Hello Kitty glass, and you tip the bottleneck until vodka pours out, to Nami’s displeasure. “I’m not a fucking heathen.” 

“Cheers to that,” Usopp says, then clinks his glass with yours—Hello Kitty to Hello Kitty. He throws his drink back and immediately starts coughing. 

You smile at your friend’s pathetic demonstration, raise your glass, and toss the drink to the back of your throat. It goes down a little smoother than your first had, but still lights a fire in your chest, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. 

A loud knock has your head swiveling to the front door. “The calvary is here!” Someone from the other side shouts. 

You say Usopp’s name, and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says and shuffles toward the door, probably resenting the day he signed a six-month lease with two bossy girls. He quickly unlocks the door, swinging it wide open. A boy springs through the entrance with a loud whoop, arms in the air. Behind him struts the moss-headed Zoro, who heads straight for the kitchen, determined to find the booze and drink you out of house and home, you’re sure. Hovering by the entrance lingers Sanji, who towers over Usopp.

“Are you seriously dressed as Batman?” You hear him ask.

Usopp’s pitch raises unnaturally as he defends himself. “The ladies love Batman!”

Sanji snorts. “What do you know about ladies?” He asks, stepping around the Walmart Superhero. Suddenly, he halts, gaze locking on you and Nami like a fucking aim-bot. 

“Nami-Swaaaaaaan!~” He croons.

Nami grabs the bottle from your hands and takes a giant swig. 

“And you must be an angel,” the blond appears at your side, sighing dreamily. A crown rests atop his head; his hair shines like spun gold. Blegh.

“A fairy, actually.” You reply, jab your thumb at the iridescent wings strapped to your back. 

He nods reverently. “Ah, but of course. You’re made of faith and trust, magic and whimsy, my ethereal little pixie.” 

You blink once, twice. Wonder if this loon pregamed the pregame, or if he’s just naturally this ridiculous. Nami takes another shot of vodka, and Sanji’s eyes track the curve of Nami’s neck as she gulps and sighs.

Damn it all to hell. You debate stealing the bottle and drinking from it like a heathen. Nami was right. You are most certainly not drunk enough for this. 

Nami and Usopp’s friends are… Well. They’re something, alright. You met the duo in college and fell in love with their snarky energy, but their non-college friends? You pan your head from Sanji and Zoro, who are halfway to beating each other’s faces in in the middle of your kitchen, to their springy friend Luffy, who’s quite literally bouncing off the walls. Yeah… You try to avoid them when you can.

But. Tonight’s Halloween. The one day you’re legally required to make bad decisions. 

So, more alcohol. You tug the bottle from Nami’s death-grip and take a healthy swig. “What happened to ‘not being a fucking heathen?’” She quotes, mirth bubbling in her voice. 

You open your mouth to say something unbelievable witty and dry, but are interrupted. “Who’s fucking heathens?” Someone behind you asks. Both you and Nami turn to face Luffy, who’s leaning over the back of your couch, upside down. 

“Nami,” you deadpan, at the same time she intones your name. 

Luffy laughs, boyish, but also… Not. His hair’s pulled towards the ground, black curls pulled back to reveal thin brows and half-lidded eyes, and the expression is a little… Sexy. Somehow. Impossibly. Kinda lazy-like, with a shit-eating grin, and it’s... 

You clear your throat, feeling a bit warm. 

“Shouldn’t you be with your brothers? Y’know. Hosting a party right now?” You ask. Luffy chortles. In your peripherals you can see Nami considering you, undoubtedly smelling blood in the water. 

“Nah. Ace n’Sabo threw me out ta stop me from eating all the snacks,” he says. His words aren’t quite slurred, but come out as a drawl, low and intoxicating. You have no idea how this man did a complete 180 in the span of 30 seconds. It’s giving you serious whiplash.

The front door opens once more, and Nami lets out a little squeak. Ah, that’s probably Vivi and co. Hmm. Dimmed lights, a sultry voice warbling over the speakers, intermingling with the occasional drunken shout… This is turning out to be a successful pregame. 

Nami jumps off your lap, stealing the bottle from your hands one last time. Her limbs tremble before she inhales deeply, steeling her nerves.

“Have fun,” you say, shooting her a look. 

“Oh, bite me,” the vampire snaps, then stalks off to go flirt with Vivi. You silently wish her luck (the amount of times you’ve had to listen to her hopelessly pine is staggering) and turn back to face Luffy again, a twinge of uncertainty in your gut.

He’s dressed like a football player, you realize. It’s a good look on him. His jersey is neon yellow and trimmed in green, but the color’s not as obtrusive as it might be in brighter lighting. And it shows off his lean figure, which is. Nice.

Appreciative as you are of his frame, you’re thinking up exit strategies by the minute. This is uncharted territory. You can count the number of times you’ve had a one-on-one conversation with the man on a single hand, and, don’t really feel like stumbling your way through small talk.

“You’re glowing,” Luffy notes. “S’pretty.”

Never mind. This is cool.

“Thanks,” you say, sheepish. “It’s the body shimmer. I’m a fairy.”

“A pretty one.”

Ah, fuck. 

You don’t really feel the alcohol all that much, but there’s a pleasant buzz floating through your body, and it’s making you a little more… susceptible. To simple compliments like that. It has your heart stuttering, but in a good way. You want him to say it again.

“What, that you’re pretty? ‘Cause you are.” He nods. “So pretty,” he concludes; dark eyes sweeping over your frame. 

Did you say that aloud? 

You blink. Rack your brain for something coy to say. “You’re, um. Yeah. You’re pretty, too.”

Fuck.

Luffy laughs at that, and you’re grateful, because you are totally off your game tonight. But he doesn’t seem to mind, just leans in closer, still upside down, and it gives you an open view of the column of his throat. Golden brown skin, taut and firm until he swallows. You tense and back up a little to see his whole face.

He’s close, incredibly close. You can smell the Corona on his breath as he exhales. And you don’t really kiss random people at hangouts after only like, two compliments, but your brain is starting to consider him the exception. 

You pull in your bottom lip reflexively, and his eyes dip to your mouth, tracking the motion. His pupils dilate. He looks, he looks hungry.

Fuck fuck fuck—

The door opens again and more people trickle into the apartment, pulling you out of whatever weird ass trance you were in, and you curse. Is this a pregame or a party of its own? The fuck. 

You lean back, hands seeking purchase on the couch cushion to support you, but maybe you’re a little more drunk than you think you are, because you completely overshoot it, body tipping toward the floor. Your head spins as you realize in real-time that you’re about to eat shit, squeezing your eyes shut before impact.

Somehow, quick hands race up your body and flip you so that instead of falling on your back, you’re braced on top of something, cushioning your fall. Your eyes open. Luffy grins from beneath you.

You’re straddling him, you realize. Make to get off him, but his hands tighten on your waist and then loosen. A suggestion. 

You stay. 

Everyone’s eyes are on you, searing into your skin, but they’re nothing compared to the hot hands sliding down, palming your thighs. You don’t know whether to be mortified or grateful that you chose such a short dress. Luffy hums appreciatively.

Grateful it is.

Time to do some damage control.

“Mind your own business,” you hiss, looking up at the room. Everyone returns to their previous occupations, albeit reluctantly, sneaking glances out of the corner of their eyes.

You turn your gaze back to the man underneath you. “How the hell did you do that?” You accuse. It should be humanly impossible for someone to perform such complicated maneuvers—while inebriated, mind you!

He just shrugs. “Didn’t wanna hurt your fairy wings, did ya?”

That is. Ridiculously sweet. 

“Fuck,” you say. It just slips out. 

Luffy’s eyes sharpen. “Yeah?”

“What?” Your breath hitches. God, you sound wrecked. 

Luffy waits a beat. Runs calloused hands up and down your thighs, and you just barely contain yourself from shuddering in his grasp. But it may be for naught, because you’re melting like putty in his hands. 

He yawns, then licks his lips. “Wanna make out?” He asks abruptly. 

It’s at this moment that you wonder exactly how you wound up here. What choices did you make in your life to end up like this? Splayed out on your apartment floor, surrounded by tipsy acquaintances, straddling the most bizarre man you’ve ever had the misfortune to come across? Fucking Halloween, man. This might just be the most humiliating thing you’ve ever experienced. 

...

You say yes.

In the end, you don’t end up making it to that party. 

[nicohischierz]

what did jack do to yn that he still feels guilty about

warning: seizure, alcohol consumption and smoking weed

jack was having a party with all his friends.

your parent were out of town, luke was at a sleepover and quinn was at university only leaving jack, you and an empty house.

“i’m gonna need you to stay in your room,” jack ordered. you furrowed your eyebrows at his request, you thought the two of you were going to bond before he left.

“what? i thought we were having movie night jacky,” you asked, trying to hide your disappointment.

jack shook his head.

“i’m having a party and i can’t have my little sister around ruining it,”

“i’m fourteen jack. and i’ve been to parties before, you’ve literally seen me!” you argued.

jack rolled his eyes. “fine you can come downstairs but one of the guys that you and i both know have to be the one giving you your drink okay,”

you nodded and hugged your brother tight. “i’m gonna miss you,” you whispered.

by the time you got ready and psyched yourself to go down, the party was in full swing.

jack had lost sight of you almost two hours ago. he’d seen you chatting to some guys that you seemed to know when he’d got sucked into a conversation with a pretty girl.

alex was the one who found you.

he’d seen you go out with some people to smoke a joint and he kept an eye out just incase something went wrong.

when he saw one of the guys in the group carry you upstairs, alex followed. along the way he found trevor and called him to follow as he ran to your room.

as soon as the two of them entered your room, they saw the way your body was flaying around and foam filled your mouth.

trevor ran to turn you to your side as alex removed your top, placing a towel over your chest. cole walked into the room and froze before running out to find jack.

“jack! we need you it’s y/n/n,”

at first the middle hughes rolled his eyes but when he noticed more of his friends standing around his sisters room he panicked.

“someone get everyone out of the house,” jack muttered.

your seizure had stopped but your eyes were still closed. jack ran to your side, he climbed onto your bed and stroked your hair as trevor tried to give you some water.

once everyone had left and trevor, alex and cole were the only ones who stayed, trevor turned to his friend in anger.

“what the fuck jack, you had a party and she was here. i thought you said everyone was out of the house, you weren’t even watching out for her!” trevor exploded.

jack stuttered, he didn’t know what to say.

“some guy gave her a joint, i know she’s done one before with us around but i think they put something in her drink but i didn’t see that. i followed her as soon as i saw her walk out,” alex muttered.

“we were supposed to have movie night before i leave but i just couldn’t. it’s easier for me to leave without knowing how much it will hurt,” jack whispered.

trevor rolled his eyes.

“you better pray that she’s alright jack of we’ll have to take her to the hospital and ellen will find out,” trevor added.

jack never spoke to you again after that.

the guilt that something terrible could’ve happened to you ate at him.

[meep-meep-richie]

Now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar And I, I, I, I, I can't stop

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn into BG3: Chapter 10

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 10: Tiefling party time! And Scratch finally makes an appearance.

Word count: 2K

Warnings: Drinking--reader gets drunk!

A/N: I can't believe how many of you want more Tav x Reader romance lol

You find yourself sitting at the edge of the river during the tieflings party, staff upright and twirling between your fingers.  The small length of sand between the water and the grass behind you is soft enough to let you sink down an inch, but the scattered stones don’t let you disappear like you want.  The party is in full swing and you’re hiding in the shadows beyond the small rock arch beside Wyll’s tent, moping. 

Well, the noise was aggravating your headache too, but still.  At least out here it’s quieter than in your tent.  

“And here I thought I would be the only one hiding myself away during the celebration.”  Wyll sits beside you, two silver goblets of wine in his hands.  He passes you the closest one which you take. 

“Loud noises and head injuries don’t mix,” you say with a sniff at the wine.  It’s dark outside but you can tell it’s white wine, nose tingling at the high alcohol content.  Without much thought you down the cup.  It passes over your tongue with barely any taste.

“But alcohol and misery do,” he counters, watching you press the bottom of the goblet into the sand.  “I thought the devil might have spooked you but something tells me that’s not the case.”

You move your eyes over the water.  “I was just thinking about how much I’m going to miss you guys.  I know it hasn’t been that long since we met but you’re literally the only people I know.  I just…don’t know what I’m going to do in the morning.”

“What are you talking about?” Wyll questions.  When you only offer him a shrug in return he watches you carefully.  If you were looking in his direction you would feel smaller than you already do under his scrutiny.  Finally he says, “Perhaps that devil did get in your head.  Whatever he said, whatever he promised, don’t consider it for a second.”

How could you not?  Raphael only said what you were thinking.

The alcohol forces a warmth through your body that you don’t want.  It was too much like the kindness you’ve been offered so many times since waking here, too much like the magic used to heal your repeated injuries.  You bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them.  

“I’m not.”  Liar, you think.  You’re even considering going to Auntie Ethel.  “And he didn’t get in my head.”

“Then what are you talking about, missing us?”

“I mean,” you say, maybe a little too forcefully, “that when you go I will notice you’re gone.”

You huff and shift in the sand.  Wyll runs a hand over his face, muttering, “By the gods you’re just as foolhardy as me.” 

He sets his goblet in the sand and faces you.  “And where will you be when we’re gone?”

You shrug and throw your hands in front of yourself.  “I don’t know!  Without the tadpole or any idea who I am, I have no idea!”

In your outburst you grab Wyll’s goblet and down what was left, about half of it.  It stings your nose and throat, something much stronger than the drink he’d given you.  Far too politely, he lets you do this and watches.  You cough and inhale harshly, head already starting to spin.  But maybe that’s the concussion and the couple of drinks you’d had earlier…

“Did someone tell you you’re not welcome here?” Wyll asks.  His voice hints at his amusement more than the downturn of his lips.  “I can’t imagine Tav sending anyone away.  He’s just found a frog that he insists stay with us.”

You tilt your head in agreement and lean back until you’re laying in the sandy grass.  There’s a rock poking at one of the many bruises on your back but you ignore it.  Your mind grows foggy, and you run your hands over your face in hopes of clarity.  But all you get is…you’re not even sure.  More sadness?  Anger?  And at what?  Not the group.  The gods?  Whichever one put you here and didn’t let you remember who you are, only who you were?

Philosophical questions of identity and perception cross your mind but you’re now too tipsy to think them through.  You cover your eyes with your forearms.

“I miss…” you begin, but you can’t finish the sentence.  “I just want to remember something other than what is.  He made it sound like…like he knew me.  Not just giving me my memory back, but he knew me.”

“Devils are fantastic liars,” Wyll tells you.  “Come on, I think we should clear some things up with the others.”

You listen to him stand and then feel his hand gently grab your upper arm.  He gives you a pull and you let him get you to your feet with little resistance.  You hug your staff to you, unwilling to let go of Tav’s gift.  If not for Wyll leading you and the staff to lean on, you’d be stumbling along the path or just falling down, but he manages to get you to Gale and Karlach who are drinking by the tiefling siblings as Rolan performs firework tricks.  

Before he can say a word you spot a fluffy white tail nearby, and despite your swirling vision you recognize the owner immediately.  

“Oh my God,” you shout, kneeling (well, fall, really) onto your knees as Scratch barks at Rolan, making the tiefling flinch.   “Puppy!”

Scratch turns to you and pounces when he sees you’re on the ground with him.  He knocks you onto your back and licks your face–by now you’re too drunk to even notice.  You scratch behind his ears and squish his face, laughing as he rubs his face against yours.  You’re mumbling about what a good boy he is when he lays down on you, resting his full weight on your torso.  He’s…heavier than he looks in the game.

You groan, waving a hand at the companions around you.  Someone throws something towards the centre of camp and Scratch takes off, using your stomach as a launchpad.  You nearly vomit at the sudden pressure and roll onto your side.

A hand lowers to you.  Your body is shaky but you manage to grab hold of it and he helps you to your feet, even picking up your forgotten staff and passing it back to you.  Of course, it’s Wyll that gives you a solid foundation to stand on.

“Karlach, Gale,” the warlock begins, “our dear friend here thinks we’ll be sending them off alone, what are your thoughts on that?”

Karlach and Gale exchanged a confused glance before looking at you.  Gale says, “Just because you don’t have a mindflayer tadpole doesn’t mean we’re leaving you behind.”

He’s too smart, you think.  And his shirt looks so soft right now, the perfect pillow.  You waver left and right, eyelids growing heavy.  It’d be so easy to just lean forward and close your eyes…no!  Awake, be awake!  The alcohol is twisting your thoughts too well.  But Gale is too polite too, if you just happened to rest on his super soft sweater a moment, right?

“Is that what that means?”   Karlach’s eyes widen and she nearly drops her cup.  “Haven’t you heard of no soldier left behind?  We aren’t just going to leave you here like a stray cat.”

You pout, eyes on your staff.  “I’m not useful without the tadpole, though.”

“You weren’t useful with it,” Gale responds.  If looks could kill, Gale would be cinders from Karlach’s glare when you lift your head.  He holds up a hand in surrender.  “What I mean is that we may have all come together because of our ocular insertions, but there’s no need to separate without them.  I would be—disappointed to see you go, but if that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”

Karlach shifts.  “I guess I won’t either, but I will try to change your mind!”

Wyll’s hands are on your shoulders.  “Do you want us to go on without you?  It’s a dangerous journey and without the parasite it would make sense for you to be the one to leave us.”

“No!”  You cover your mouth with one hand, realising just how loud you’d shouted.  The younger siblings, Cal and Lia,  look at you curiously before going back to teasing Rolan.  Quietly you repeat, “No.  I want to—I want to help.”

It sounded a little more mature than “I want to hang out with you some more”, at least, or “please for the love of god don’t leave me I have no idea what I’m doing”.

You blink slowly at them, eyes scanning the area in hopes of hiding whatever emotion is clear on your face.  You’re sure it must be sadness, but there’s a smile threatening to rise at the thought they want you to stay with them.  Tears, too.  

“I think I need water,” you mumble, “lots of water.”

“Excuse me.”  The voice draws everyone’s attention to one of the tiefling guards.  Arka.  It’s a good thing you’re drunk because the shock you feel is delayed enough for you to keep it hidden.  She’s watching you, her expression a mixture of sorrow and anger, but it soon turns to defeat.   She wets her lips.  “I heard about what happened—Mirkon asked me to thank you.”

You tilt your head, unable to remember the name. 

Arka’s own brow furrows in confusion.  “You told the druids about him going to the beach; the guards found him about to be harpy food—they’d been so busy with the rite they hadn’t bothered to clear out the nest over there.”

There’s a deep venom in her words about the druids, and maybe at you for not remembering any of it.  Or maybe it’s just in your head because the world is getting a little—twirlier, than you’re used to.

“Right,” you say.  “I’m glad he’s okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Karlach questions.  “I just got my upgrade, I coulda taken those harpies no problem!”

“Four harpies is a lot for even you,” you respond.

“Hey, you tell me about your next bad feeling and I’ll prove you wrong.”  Karlach laughs loudly.  She tells the others of your “bad feeling” about the singing and the boy, and mentions how she’s taken on worse than a few harpies.

If you weren’t so out of it you might have noticed both Gale and Wyll watching you closely.  With more than concern for a drunk friend, but you don’t ask what they’re thinking.  Another death you prevented.  Not to mention one too many details—how did you know it was four harpies?

When Arka turns to leave you grab her wrist.  “You don’t have to do it.  Memnos—that’s his name—Memnos will be sad.  They need you for what’s coming in the…the—what is it—the dark place.”

Your eyes are closed for this speech.  You can clearly see her dead body in your mind, but it’s not on a screen, it’s real.  So real you can smell the blood and feel the breeze on your skin as you look down at her corpse.

Silence overtakes you as you pass out a moment.  You’re jolted awake a few seconds later by Gale, his hands on both your shoulders when you look at him.  “Oh, I’m so glad you don’t have a boar head.”

But behind him Arka’s eyes are wide—terrified.  Gale begins to lead you towards your tent.  “Apologies for our friend here.  As you can see, wine loosens the tongue of its nonsense.”

Arka points a finger at you, her shock now turned to anger.  “How could you possibly know that?”

You lean into Gale’s side, trying to remember what she’s talking about.  “Know what?”

“That I was—that tonight I…”  Her words trail off.  She gulps whatever else she was going to say and shakes her head, spinning on her heel and joining Memnos and Alfira on the other side of camp.

You look at Gale, or more accurately his shoulder and that soft, soft sweater.  You lean your head on it and ask, “What do I know?”

You’re not sure if you’re supposed to hear his reply.  “More than we thought, it seems.”

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi @tinswhimsy @xxgrimripp3rxx @kemonocat-blog @thetiredtoad0-0 @sleepydang @iwannabealocalcryptid

[sofiaruelle]

Oh wow, I was not expecting a whole drawing of them trying the dance and falling around. It's very beautifully done, I rmmbr just staring in awe for a while at first 🩵

I have another odd question about the she trio/ass gang, which u don't have to draw

Cause I saw a little video of Harvey going hard; dancing to MiseryxCPR(xReese's Puffs) and it had me laughing for a long while, and I wondered who would be the ones singing the song if say the stardrop saloon had some kind of karaoke night

My head tells me both Sam and Abagail would end up doing Reeses's puffs, but that would leave one of the other songs without a host :/

Harvey would probably end up saying stuff about how cpr doesn't require mouth-to-mouth anymore or smthn, and Shane probably worried Marnie would walk in-or just, too drunk off his ass having fun to care 🤔

nah man i just have to draw them. and oh look I even have another essay under readmore! 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂

✨Also my commissions are open! ✨ if anyone is interested! :D< please reblog/share the og comm sheet ,if you can! it would help me a lot thank you!!!

Honestly i can imagine them all just being pissed drunk before attempting to sing the song😂. i know fersure the SHE trio would require more liquid courage for it (heck even to join/start a kareoke sesh!)

Shane gives of major Kareoke Tito (uncle) vibes~. Yknow that one tito who specifically sings “My Way” by Frank Sinatra and has a bunch of classic rock songs under his belt. He’s not good at singing perse but he can at least carry a tune. He and Sebastian would totally connect with singing Misery. but like Shane vaguely knows the song (he’s heard it on radio a bajillion times but he doesnt know the name of the song so its not quite on his playlists) so he when he’s super sloshed and can barely read the screen, he tries to sing it from memory and misses a couple of the words. but hey! at least he knows the chorus and is in tune.

Meanwhile Sebastian has Misery “secretly” on his go to playlist. He doesnt admit it (the songs is too main stream and overplayed but he stumbled upon a vocaloid cover and rest is history.) He definitely always chooses the song every kareoke sesh (although not his first choice) and he’s passionate about it even has a little performance too(lots of head bangs, fist pumps and that classic 2000s disney knees bent together, feet wide apart moment)! For his duet with shane he’s the first to shed a lil tear and that gets shane going and they cry through most of the song in their own lil misery world ignoring the chaos around them.

Sam is a fucking menace for singing CPR and I do agree He and Abigail would go off on Reese’s Puff BUT i can definitely imagine being commited to singing CPR (we all know he’d awkwardly twerk). Especially if it was to troll on Harvey who probably thought it was a wholesome song about doing CPR at a specific BPM. 😂

Harvey good lird poor harvey! He’s probably the most sober out of everyone. It doesnt help that he’s no light weight + lowkey becomes designated baby sitter everytime (he’s soooooooo going charge them extra in the morning if they come stumbling into his clinic asking for some hangover cure). He was so excited about adding a new song to CPR tempo list he was gonna teach at the nex first aid classes!! Who would have thought that a singer with a cute wholesome name like Cupcakke was just so… sooooo SCANDALOUS!!! He should have known Sam was up to something the moment he grabbed him by the shoulder!!! “This is medical malpractice, Samson!!!” He spends the whole trying to sush Sam who’s having so much fun laughing at Harvey’s reaction 😂

Abigal. F e r a l.

Help! Elliot has fallen over! He honestly just has a mild peanut allergy but he has been drinking and hooo boi. thats not good. thank goodness Harvey is sobered up (with the help of Sam ofc) and has an epipen on hand! Catch Leah cackling from her seat by the bar before assisting Harvey.

[here-comes-the-moose]

What Kind of Drunk Each Adult Member of the Bad Batch Would Be

Hunter- Absolute dance machine. Has never met a song he didn’t like. Also the man’s got jokes.

Wrecker- Can’t really get drunk, so feeds off the energy of others and is just dancing and laughing and having a good time. He is also encouraging shenanigans™️.

Tech- Slutty.

Crosshair- Menace to society. He is grinding on guys, doing shots, chatting with everyone, dancing like a maniac, disappearing from the others, and somehow ended up crowdsurfing. If he’s not in menace mode, however, he is crying in the bathroom and eating a chicken sandwich while thinking about his ex or having intense anxiety. He’s just like me fr

Echo- Usually the designated driver and with his medical issues doesn’t drink much, but when he does drink he becomes very chatty and everyone’s biggest hype man. Your ex did you wrong? YOU DESERVE BETTER QUEEN! You want to ask for a promotion? Get that bread, honey! However, on some occasions he will get really sad and nostalgic and might cry.