Mlp Drunk Novels & Stories

Content Advisory: Graphic depictions of violence, psychological trauma, and unhealthy coping mechanisms that may be triggering. Reader discretion is strongly advised. ⊰ Marcel ⊱ I sit on the sofa, the room spinning around me, the crystal glass clutched in my hand, the rich amber liquid sloshing against the sides as I bring it to my lips. The alcohol burns as it slides down my throat, but it’s a welcome pain, a distraction from the all-consuming torment that threatens to tear me apart.

Jack actually drank too much. Mal covered his mouth, trying to hide his smile. “I hear that chuckle, you old hard ass.” Jack mumbled. “I’m a grown ass man. I can handle my liquor AND my blood.” He slowly pushed away from the girls and their support, as he wobbled before his face planted on the floor.

he is such a whore. 'You do know his name's Dave right' I internally glare at my inner girl 'DO NOT START WITH ME!' I state emphasizing each word causing her to step back holding her hands up as if she's surrendering. Malia is drunk off her ass, Stacey is making out with a blonde stranger, and Dave is still talking while I'm drinking like there's no tomorrow. The funny thing, though, is that no matter how much I drink, I never get drunk. At first, it was a bit concerning, but now it's just an advantage.

From the truck's side window, Malik's shadow slipped inside—a black thread that coiled like a snake before plunging into the driver's body in one violent thrust. His limbs shook as if possessed by a demonic force. A harsh, gruff voice burst from his throat: "Damn it, I need another drink. That damned family set me on fire!" He yanked out the glove compartment, pulled out a bottle of liquor, and downed long, simmering gulps until the glass glinted in the darkness, then carelessly tossed it aside. In the future, a flatbed truck appeared from a side road, packed with over thirty workers wielding axes and picks.

“If you won’t, I will think that you are waging war against my pack. Against the Stonewind Pack. Imagine what your father would think. Will he be happy or not?” He released me instantly. “Asshole!” “I’m glad we are on the same page now.” I sat. “Pour me some drinks.” Malik folded his arms in front of his chest. “Why would I lower myself with a bastard like you?” “Why are you here in the first place? I thought it was to humor me.” His eyes shifted to the stage, where the strippers were dancing. I did not come here to watch those women but to drink. Getting drunk was not something I would achieve now. Werewolves rarely get drunk, unless we drink the alcohol made for us.

“I’ll help with Leon, and I have people living here that are paid to help. So drink. Get drunk for the both of us, because if I could, I’d be fucking wasted right now.” Malachi got up from the couch and moved to my bar, grabbing a random bottle. He took a big sip, then took the bottle with him back to the couch. “How can we get married now?” “We’re still getting married, Malachi. A deal is a fucking deal.” “There is that cold-hearted woman I am going to marry,” Malachi joked dryly. I rolled my eyes, “get drunk in silence then.” He shook his head, “my thoughts are too loud. Music. I need music.”

She was tired. “I need a drink,” she mumbled, throwing on whatever clothes she could grab. She didn’t care about her appearance. She just wanted to numb the pain, even if just for the night. *** “One more, please,” Mabel slurred, clearly drunk. The bartender hesitated. “Ma’am, you’re drunk...” “No, I’m not!” Mabel yelled, drawing attention to herself. “I have money, so just one more!” “One more won’t hurt,” a deep voice said behind her.

Malakhi mumbled as he sipped his drink. “I’m hungry,” I answered, touching my belly. “Do you guys want to go get burgers?” I asked them, and Anin immediately stood up straight. “Absolutely horrible for your diet, but let's definitely do it,” Anin said as she pushed herself off Malakhi; even though I could clearly see she was drunk, she managed to stand straight without Malakhi’s help. “Can you not be a doctor for one night and just be that wild girl you told me about,” I held her hands in mine, and Malakhi raised his arms.

Alexander observed the exchange with a dull fascination. "Dude," Lemuel grimaced as if he'd been splashed with bleach. "That's chemical warfare. Malia, control your man." "Malia's trying," she said with an eye roll, "but she's also drunk." It felt strange being in the bar when it was so empty and quiet. Usually, it buzzed with the muted chatter of Dolf, Alexander, and Lemuel, but now they seemed too intoxicated to speak, each reclining against the booth with their heads back.

But my mind wouldn't stop wondering where Milo had ran off to MILO Drinking isn't my specialty. But I fucking love the fact that I can't get drunk.....not after the incident three years ago. I could drink three bottles and nothing would happen, I trained myself for that. I can't get drunk. Anytime I remember the incident, I feel guilty. I asked for another shot. I heard clicking heels from behind me. I felt Blakeley's hands on my shoulders. "Hey" she whispered into my ears. "Did you bring it?" I asked, I don't care if she's here, I just want what she brought.