drink to write

anonymous asked:

Hunk makes it his mission to hug everyone at least once a day, especially Shiro and Keith because they're touch-starved.

not exactly what you asked for, but something i’ve been wanting to write……. 

(this got waaaaaaaay longer than originally intended, uh. oops? very hunk and shiro centric, borderline shunk, though nothing explicitly shippy)

Hugging Lance is easy, they’re pretty affectionate with each other anyways, so if Hunk hugs him a bit more or longer than usual, it’s not really something that Lance notices.

Pidge has never been much of a hugger, at least hugs she doesn’t initiate herself. But Hunk is her friend, and he’s pretty dang huggable, and so she doesn’t mind letting him initiate hugs more often than she’d allow it from anyone else. She eventually even gets used to it, accepting the hugs as they come, sometimes even continuing what she was working on and patting Hunk on the arm to show she’s good with him doing it, until Hunk lets go.

Keith is also surprisingly easy to hug. He never initiates, but he’s gotten very comfortable with Hunk’s hugs, has started really leaning into them, even if he doesn’t usually wrap his arms around Hunk in return. It’s just not something he feels he’s very good at, but Hunk doesn’t mind when he feels Keith push just a tiny bit closer into Hunk’s chest.

Coran is easy, too, like hugging one of his uncles. He never really questions Hunk’s hugs, maybe because he thinks it’s a human thing or maybe because he thinks it’s a Hunk thing. Either way, Coran takes it in stride and always welcomes Hunk’s hugs with enthusiasm and sincerity.

Hunk feels weird about hugging Allura. They aren’t close, and Hunk just can’t figure her out, she keeps her cards too close to her chest, only ever really showing her weaknesses to Coran. They’ve shared celebratory hugs, and Hunk has had to half carry her before, when she’s exhausted or over-exerted herself, but those don’t really count as hugs. But it’s fine, they show their affection in different ways. Hunk tries to replicate traditional Altean dishes, and Allura is always first to lay a comforting hand on Hunk’s shoulder or arm.

They do hug, really really hug, once when Hunk goes on a particularly dangerous mission. Allura and Hunk had, in a surprising turn of events, actually had a fight, and then Hunk had to rush off on a mission only the Yellow Paladin and Lion could do. Allura had followed him to the hangar and they’d shared a moment, each of them hugging a little harder than what’s strictly comfortable.

Hunk makes it back, a little bruised and battered, and Allura puts her hand on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze, the way she usually does. They’re okay.

It’s Shiro, though, that notices. Hunk’s tendency to hug more and longer, but to spend less time with the rest of the team. Who notices the sheer number of baked goods coming out of the kitchen, how sometimes there’s several platters full on the counter in the morning where there wasn’t when he went to bed. 

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thoughts, feelings, y’know that sorta thing

edit 2: this is a post about bipolar disorder, made by me, an artist with bipolar disorder, strictly for other people with bipolar disorder. stop tagging it for unipolar depression, anxiety, bpd, psychosis, or anything else (those are just the most used tags on this) because it’s not about those. even if you think you can relate, tagging this as anything other than bipolar disorder is stripping my meaning away from my work, and invalidating my feelings as a mentally ill person AND an artist. stop doing that.

edit 3: do NOT put this on gore/guro blogs. thanks.

  • everyone else writing: i've added 800 words today, i have a timetable, and 20 plot twists planned. so far i've written 59000/5847362 words. if the writing gods are good, tonight i will hit another writing milestone i've set for myself
  • me, shitposting at 3 am for inspiration and only write sporadic shit every once in a blue moon: can't relate. i can only write when the moon is blue and it's pegasus mating season
She tells me
she hates the taste
of whiskey
except for when
she tastes it on my tongue.
And I want to be the one
for her but
loving me is lonely
and the hangover is hell.
I don’t want to become
the bad habit that
she has to recover from.
—  The Taste of Whiskey, V.P.
More Ace Dex

Ace Dex combating the casual aphobia that we all deal with at some point.  

“Dude, you’ve never done the nasty?”

Dex rolled his eyes, hard. Whiskey’s tone was just this side of shocked, and it made Dex was to take back the fact that he had said anything at all. It wasn’t exactly that he expected the team to be more understanding than other people, but he hoped that was the case, anyway.

On top of that, Whiskey managed to catch the attention of Ransom and Holster, who were walking past, heads close together.

“Wait, what’s this about someone never smuggling the ol’ bone?”

Ransom gave Holster a critical look, then grinned in that way that only someone on the wrong side of tipsy can. “Playing hide the sausage.”

Holster countered quickly with, “Making the beast with two backs.”

“Assault with a friendly weapon.”

“Entangling the lower beards.”

“Joint sessions of Congress.”

Holster held out a fist. “Bro, pound it out for that one.”

With a solemn nod, Ransom offered tapped his fist to Holster’s. Dex hoped that their (truly awful) back and forth would distract them from what was going on, but instead they plopped onto the couch to join in the conversation. Well, they pushed their way onto the couch, which was already too full, Ransom on one end and Holster in the middle of Nursey and Dex.

Whiskey pointed in Dex’s general direction, and told the captains, “Apparently, Dex has never had sex.”

Holster threw a big arm around Dex’s shoulder and turned toward him. Dex could smell tub juice wafting off of him. “Dex! My dude. My man. Bro. We gotta resolve this.”

“It’s not a problem. There’s nothing to resolve.”

On the other side of Holster, Dex could see his boyfriend’s concerned face. Nursey knew that Dex’s sexuality (well, his asexuality) was still a touchy subject. On the best of days, it was hard for him to have a conversation about. On the days after a game loss and with a group of drunken and less than subtle frat boys, well…. Chances were that it wasn’t going to go well.

“No, but Dex. Dexy. Dex. Sex is so good. Tell ‘im, Rans, tell him about… Shit, what’s a good one for Dex? Crab fishing in the dead sea.”

Dex scrunched up his face. “Dude, that’s fucking gross. And no, whatever fucking euphemism you use, the answer is no.”

On the other side of Holster, Nursey stood up and held a hand out to Dex, and yeah, that sounded like a better idea than having a discussion about life choices with a very drunk Holster. Dex pushed off the couch with a solid fist to Holster’s thigh, maybe a little harder than strictly necessary. He followed Nursey under the caution tape and up the stairs to Chowder’s room.

They spent the rest of the not-kegster (because apparently it could only be a kegster if they won the game) hiding out, watching Brooklyn-99. Dex could feel Nursey sending him concerned looks, but he ignored them. They fell asleep together, cuddling on the thin mattress.

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Some people drink themselves sick night after night.
Others get high almost as often as they take in oxygen.
And some find a new lover every other month.
And the sad part of that isn’t the fact that they’re destroying themselves, though it may be true.
The saddest part of all of it is that each of those people are just looking for a remedy for whatever bullshit they’re forced to feel.
Lets be honest, we’re all just looking for a pain-killer. And mine just so happened to be you.
—  You were the only remedy.

If you cannot handle your alcohol you cannot handle me. I am the strongest drink you will ever have and the quickest drug you will ever get addicted to. Like the whiskey you’ve grown to be fond of since you were 16 years old I’ll be there when it feels like nobody else is. I will be what you drown yourself in when you’re overwhelmed with both happiness and sadness, I will be what you wake up wanting and go to bed dreaming of. The first swig of me will leave you wondering if you want more but with each new sip you’ll fall more in love with each taste you get and ask for another shot. But unlike the alcohol you’ve learned to rely on, even when you split ways, I will not come back. One day I’ll wake up and leave and you will go through a withdrawal that doesn’t really end, you just find ways to bury it. But I’ll have scarred you and you’ll never really want whiskey again, just on the nights you miss me most and you can’t fight the urge to do whatever it takes to have the taste of me on your lips again. So when she asks you why you drink yourself to death with whiskey on the days it feels like the worlds falling apart or the days it feels like it’s all falling together? Tell her that the tequila from your trip with her to Mexico, or the Vodka you got in Moscow, or the wine she got you from that Vineyard back east doesn’t make you feel like I did.

And when you’re drunk in your whiskey that’s the only time you feel like you’re home

I love how Blizzard and some boring people try to make Roadhog into a ruthless killer with nothing good to offer and then there is Josh Petersdorf, official VA of hog like… “Yeah, Hog’s new years resolutions is eating more raviolis… He runs a Pachimari orphanage, he loves his boyfriend Junkrat and serenades him with Enrique Iglesias songs and buy him gifts… He plays StarCraft with Dva and drinks tea with Ana. He writes poetry too and –”

AU where Geno and the pens are part of a secret organization that time travels to maintain the flow of historic events, and on one mission, Geno is tasked to go back to the 1820s to save a man (whose great-great grandson will eventually be key to a medical breakthrough that will change history) from a freak accident involving a horse carriage gone rogue. 

Anyways, the man is super thankful and insists on treating Geno to dinner, and Geno is hesitant because he’s really not supposed to interact this much with the subject but the man won’t hear a no. So Geno gets taken to this guy’s estate and meets Sidney, the man’s youngest son, who is beautiful and intelligent and basically Geno’s exact type. So right there and then Geno knows that he’s screwed. 

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Things I'm doing to better myself this summer

- Getting rid of alcohol and coffee from my diet
- getting up in the morning

- drinking A LOT of water

- writing down how I’m feeling

- moving my body as much as possible (even if it’s just dancing whilst cooking!)

- taking at least one breath of fresh air a day

- keeping my surroundings clean and tidy ~ helps to keep my mind clean and tidy!

- understanding I’m better off without some people

- staying in my own lane ~ drama free ~

- focusing and working on my goals

- count my blessings! What I am grateful for

- listening to someone to UNDERSTAND them, not just to reply.


- trying to eat less processed sugary foods!~ they just make me feel kinda mad and lethargic after

- letting my skin and hair breathe by wearing no makeup and using no heat on my hair

The Five Times You Encounter Dean Winchester

Word Count: 2,914

Warnings: Drinking. 

A/N: I missed writing Dean, so this happened :) Hope y’all enjoy! Let me know ^^ 

Originally posted by out-in-the-open

Five Years Old
There is a new kid in your kindergarten class. He’s quiet, has freckles all about his tiny face, and wide green eyes. He stands next to the teacher as she introduces him to everyone and you smile widely when you realize that the only open seat in the classroom is the one next to you.

A new friend and you’re thrumming with excitement as he takes his seat next to you.

“Dean!” you exclaim, making him jump.

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