#alcohol reference

[isaacsapphire]

26. Would you rather sit on the porch drinking sweet tea or sit by the lake drinking beers? or 51. How many blankets do you keep in your living room?

Definitely the lake and beers, especially if shandy or Dogfish Head Seaquench counts as beer. I am not huge on sweet tea and I’m very fond of lakes.

1-2 blankets. They kinda migrate between the couch and the bed and there was this whole cycle of being gifted blankets of various degrees of shittyness, keeping them on the couch, and donating them for a while too, so it’s been known to be more.

[betaorionis-fr]

Newly added to my pixel art shop offerings are Custom Graphics*! The first thing in my shop are small animated scenic gifs as seen below: (original size: 100px, these are the scaled up 200px versions, further embiggened by post formatting)

I currently have 2 slots open for custom graphics and 3 open for little pixel scene animations. price varies depending on complexity, see thread linked for more details.

*I will make a note here also that the intention for these are 'graphics' and 'decorations' and not 'character art'! Stuff like Asagiri's animation here which features her in ghostly deer form are ok since she isn't the only thing of note and also isn't very big and/or detailed.

I do have a pop-up art shop if you wanna comm me for dragon art like the portraits i've shared here—currently closed but thinking of reopening next month... gotta save up for new dragons.

(detailed image descriptions under the read more)

[image 1: a pair of deep blue vertical banners with a staggered gradient effect turning darker at the bottom, and with electric blue fringe-like bits at the bottom with gems dangling down - the tops are short spears with blue tentacles curled around them and draping over part of the banners. there are two horizontal dividers, double-ended wooden spears with stone tips. the higher divider has a round dark blue buckler in the center and is framed by tentacles, some of them grasping electric blue gems - one such gem also sits in the center of the shield. nearer to the bottom, at the center, are a line of three identical blue gems centered on small dark blue circles. /end id]

[image 2: an animated gif of a foggy lake scene, with pale yellow background that has a dithered gradient darkening at the bottom, dark off-black deciduous tree to the right, some bushes to the left with a ghostly pale deerlike figure between them. it is animated to look like the water is flowing and a wind is blowing, and the ghostly deer appears to fade in and out. /end id.]

[image 3: an animated snapshot of part of a neon-lit alleyway, with a metal-railing balcony with a glass bottle resting at the top and some leafy pot plant dangling down through the bars. there are three neon light sources in the scene, a blue wine-cup sign at the bottom left, a pink one that reads '44','20', and '80' in stylized numbers, and two pink glowing rounded lantern shapes dangling off a pole attached to the right wall. the animation seems to show the light moving across the scene as the various sources turn brighter and dim. /end id.]

[videojamiemostlikely]

So who wants to go out for Pina Coladas, everyone?!

[agentsterling]

+ Have you ever thought of using weed or alcohol as a coping mechanism?

"Alcoholism, yes. Maybe a bit too much. Weed, no. Took long enough to get cigarette smell out of my clothes. Can't imagine weed would be any easier to hide even if I was interested."

[finn-shavocado]

[smellroy]

Happy Halloween part two. Maybe the real Terror was alcoholism.

[joejoeba]

Thats bad for you 😠

⬇️ alt versions

[torchflies]

Hi TG Fandom!

I love thinking about an AU where: Pete Mitchell is eight years old and used to being bounced around from foster home to orphanage to group home to foster home. An eight-year-old Pete who is scrappy and world-savvy and angry, just imagine a Maverick before he's Maverick — all that Maverick-ness balled up in this pint-sized Pillsbury biscuit can of whoop-ass. He runs the show wherever he goes with his loud mouth and sense of righteous fury. 

But then there's this new boy at the group home, this chubby nine-year-old blond boy with broken glasses held together with duct-tape and a big sweater with patches that covers his hands and half his face. He doesn't talk and spends most of the day hiding in his bed or reading an old Chemistry textbook that he brought from wherever he came from. Pete doesn't get him, thinks he's weird and the fact that the boy always looks so scared makes his tummy feel squirmy. 

So, he starts to sit next to Blondie, shares his food — basically the only thing of value he has, and starts talking, and talking, and talking and talking if only to fill up all the space that Blondie doesn't with his own words. Eventually, Blondie starts scooting closer to Pete, leans against him and starts to talk in a small whisper that only Pete can hear. 

Blondie’s name is Tommy. 

They grow up together in that group home, they bond to each other in a way they've never bonded to anyone else. They make plans to get out and join the Navy together one day, to fly; and they promise to never be apart or alone again.

Then Tommy gets adopted. 

Pete cries; Tommy screams. They might be teenagers now but it takes three men to get them to pry their hands off of each other. Tommy gets carried down the hallway howling, hands outstretched, yelling louder than Pete’s ever heard him speak before. Suddenly, the world is meaner and colder than it has ever been before and all he has left of his Blondie is that same scuffed up Chemistry textbook and a pair of broken glasses.

Pete runs away that night, glasses in his pocket and that heavy book stuffed into his backpack, but he never finds Tommy again… he finds Nicky Bradshaw instead. 

He starts to move on from the hope of ever seeing Tommy again… until Top Gun and Animal Night at the O Club, when Pete catches sight of the first boy he’s ever loved, hiding with shades on and a vodka glass in his hand, instead of a patchy sweater and a Chemistry textbook. 

Pete’s still a pint-sized Pillsbury biscuit can of whoop-ass and the world has changed them both into new people���

But when Iceman comes at him with bravado and snapping teeth, stinking of the alcohol that used to scare him when he was Tommy, regaling Maverick with tales of a father who loved a bottle more than him…

Pete reaches up to slip a little boy’s pair of broken glasses onto the blond’s face with a gentle, “Hi, Blondie.”

And Iceman crumbles away, leaving a crying Tommy in his place.

“Pete.”

He still says it the same way, like he's saying home.

[fakesorbet]

The Bad Kids + Summer drinks

[gallusgremlin]

i just had a stupid thought. "mr. orange" sounds like one of those quirky alcoholic drinks. do with this as you will

the noise behind the blender

should he drink it

[grapemoon]

ROGER’S EVIL ROUTE GOES CRAZY

[1ststarmageddon]

Obligatory Deltarune/Garfield meme redraw for my unhinged bestie

(ignore the weird color splotch my pen exploded)

[fawn-tongues]

Odile having an entirely appropriate reaction to feelings talks

[fullcravings]

Coconut Coffee Rum Cocktail (Non-Acoholic)

[sevretalien2]

outsiders red! he doesn’t look that different just a little more fucked up

(and i get the bg knowledge that he’s facing the horrors)

[warcats-cat]

Frat Boiz

Summary: The first Friday night of every month was pizza and movies night, and the second Sunday of every month was movies and snuggles (aka date night). There were two reasons for the necessity of this distinction of dates, and their names were Apollo and Dionysus.

A/N: Hello my darlings! (hehe) This one is short and sweet; I've been holding onto for a bit. It's actually the second one I ever wrote (and happened to be Halloween at the time, hence the movies) and I've been debating posting it as always, but I want to bring in more Apollo and some of the other Olympian Siblings **kicks pile of wips under my bed** so I do hope you guys like their dynamic. Thanks as always to @lickoutyourbrains for being my lovely beta, although they may not remember this one actually... 😅

Also, the end note will link to my reference for Apollo, which I am using with credit from the artist. Please let me know if I need to add any other tags, and as always, ENJOY!!!

Read on Ao3 Here!

The first Friday night of every month was pizza and movies night, and the second Sunday of every month was movies and snuggles (aka date night). There were two reasons for the necessity of this distinction of dates, and their names were Apollo and Dionysus.

You’d never admit it to anyone, but you really did adore how close Hermes was with his brothers. He played a lot of pranks on the other Olympians, and many of them gave back as good as they got, but the three of them specifically (and occasionally Artemis when she was feeling especially devious) were engaged in a millennia-old prank war. Your apartment, thankfully, had become neutral ground, after an incident involving a beer keg being poured off of your apartment's roof like rain (thoroughly soaking Hermes and missing you by millimeters) and rather upsetting your landlord…

You could still remember Dionysus laughing: “Get it? It's a golden shower!”

But that also meant that that's where the other two wanted to hang out with the ‘middle child’, because Hermes spent so much of his free time with you instead of with them. Which led to “pizza and movies Friday” - your way of keeping the three of them on relatively good behavior when inside your home.

There was a handsome leopard skin coat hanging by your door at the moment, ten different bottles of alcohol on the coffee table, two empty pizza boxes on the kitchen table, and three ethereally beautiful men passed out on the floor of your living room.

You smiled, gently nudging Apollo’s shoulder with your foot. He grumbled in response, otherwise unmoving.

The four of you (Artemis was out with her hunters this weekend on a girls trip, probably bathed in blood by now) had sat down for scary movies for the spooky season; starting with the original Dracula, partially to laugh at, and then moving forward through the years. Scream, IT, Nightmare on Elm Street, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and a bunch of other Halloween movies had all passed by in a blur until it was three-thirty am and you were half on top of Hermes as he had pushed his brothers off the couch so you could comfortably lay down. You’d forced them to take a break about midnight so you could watch Little Shop of Horrors; you weren't a wimp but you weren't really into the gory stuff either, and since it was your apartment and you’d bought the pizza (and three bottles of wine), they had to acquiesce.

Some time around three am they all started speaking exclusively in old Greek. Which was great.

You nudged Apollo again, which he grumbled at some more and rolled away from your reach, onto Dionysus, who kicked in his own unconscious state and almost knocked over the coffee table. Damn divine strength. Hermes was right under the couch, face down. The wings where his ears would be twitched a little as he slept and your smile widened; you loved playing with his hair and - when he allowed it - petting the silky soft feathers. It was so interesting, the way the wings moved with his emotions; especially with you, when he was more relaxed and let them loose instead of pressed tight against his hair.

It was close to ten am, now; thankfully you'd had the forethought to close your window curtains to keep the light out, so none of you awoke to the screaming brightness alongside a hangover. You hadn't drank a lot, but you did have a headache and a bit of a dry mouth to greet you when you woke.

You weren't really sure how Hermes had fallen off the couch, since he had been behind you and cuddling you like his personal teddy bear when you fell asleep. You also weren't really sure why they'd all chosen to just sleep on the floor when there was a perfectly good air mattress in your front closet that they'd slept on before, but whatever.

Who was a mortal to question a god?

Breakfast would be nice, though…

Carefully, you climbed around the couch to get closer to the kitchen, and leave the sleeping gods where they lay. You didn't really cook breakfast that often, usually opting for pop tarts or granola bars as you left for work, but there were a few ingredients in the fridge you could probably use. Hermes left food in there all the time, anyway, and it never seemed to spoil any more.

That was also a big perk of having a divine boyfriend; groceries that didn't go bad.

Rooting around the fridge and freezer, you found a few basics - eggs, milk, cheese, various meats that were probably dropped off by one of the Twins, and frozen toaster waffles. A veritable feast of a hangover cure.

You set about making some scrambled eggs; the simple recipes were always your go-to, and none of your guests ever seemed to mind. While waiting for the pan to heat with a little butter, you popped two waffles into the toaster and grabbed your phone to look at pictures from last night.

There were a lot of terrible, shaky selfies, but also some really cute pictures you would have to print for your walls. You and Hermes cuddled together, reading something from his phone; all four of you making very dumb faces at the camera; Dionysus posing with his leopard skin coat wrapped around his hips like a loin cloth (covering much more of the back than the front,  but with the sleeves draped just so to hide the important part); Apollo and Hermes arm wrestling. One photo you sent to Artemis - the three men laying in a pile, red-faced and about halfway unconscious, hanging off the couch cushions. That was right before you’d yawned and Hermes had made his brothers move.

You heard grumbling as you cracked the first two eggs, thinking you'd might as well make the whole dozen in one go. Anything they didn't eat, you could have later for a lunch or something. The grumbling got a little louder, and you leaned back into the living room in time to see Dionysus elbow Apollo right in the face, making the sun god yell indignantly.

Oh dear. Oh well…

“Food!” You called, hoping to stop a real fist fight before it started. Hermes sat right up, both wings spread out as if on the alert, but his eyes still glazed with sleep.

“Hm?” He looked at you, sort of though you, and blinked a few times. The other brothers had also frozen mid-attack, and were now staring at you; peering from the dark living room into the lighted kitchen.

It was like three raccoons with glowing eyes watching you from a trash can.

“Food.” You repeated, as they stared. A few beats of silence later and you added on, “Scrambled eggs?”

Like the beasts they were, all three perked up, now smelling the sizzling eggs. Hermes was the first in the kitchen, being both the closest and the god of speed, and he gave you a very sweet kiss on the cheek as he began to help you cook. You couldn't complain, he was a better chef than you; and he was a much better judge dealing with the venison gifted by the Twins. Frozen chicken nuggets were more your speed…

Apollo and Dio joined the pair of you only a few moments later. The sun god stretched, showing off his bare chest and various tattoos which looked like etchings of gold set into the marble of his skin. Meanwhile, the god of wine sat at your little kitchen table, apparently having summoned champagne for mimosas.

The four of you made idle conversation; the three brothers now playing gentlemen insisted that you have the first plate of eggs and waffle, and you sat next to Dio as Hermes handed you a bag of chocolate chips from the pantry. You both had a sweet tooth - he knew you so well. Various questions of ‘how did you sleep’ and ‘how many eggs’ were exchanged. It was mostly a warm morning, and you were just happy for the company. With all four of you finally seated with your plates, more focused conversation could begin.

All three would have to leave soon; they all had jobs to be doing, whether that be on Earth or Olympus. You knew Hermes would be starting off somewhere in France picking up a package from Hera in one of her summer homes - most likely another round of Divorce papers which would be responded to with another round of apology letters. Maybe Zeus would show up in person this time.

You laughed as you showed off the pictures you took, “the three of you are worse than frat boys sometimes,” you teased.

Apollo dramatically feigned offense, “I’ll have you know I am the epitome of class.”

You flashed a mildly evil smile; “sure,” you replied, “lots of class from the man who has swirly gold tattoos on his ass.”

This comment made the sun god turn white; Hermes choked on an egg and Dio snorted mimosa right out his nose.

“Who told you that?” Apollo hissed, looking scandalized. He had several lovers who shared his home and time, and you'd met three of them so far. You grinned.

“Hyacinthus may have let it slip.” You replied. In truth, he had scrolled one photo too far while showing you snapshots of different outfits worn to some fancy event (maybe something related to the Olympics?), and you'd seen significantly more of the sun god than strictly necessary; thankfully from the back… You knew there was no malice in Apollo's actions; at worst, Hyacinth would be texting you later that his credit card privileges were taken away for a week. You’d take him out for a massage or drinks or something sometime soon, and that would restore the balance.

Dionysus laughed, his head thrown back and his eyes tearing up. Hermes was laughing as well, but took a minute to kiss you and say softly in your ear, “god I love you.” Apollo pouted, but his puppy-eyes and trembling lip disappeared as you passed him the champagne. You were certain he'd have something to tease you and Hermes about soon enough.

After a little more breakfast, along with a little more champagne and a little more banter, the three were kind enough to help you clear the table (you could deal with dishes later) and begin gathering their things to leave. You grabbed Dio’s coat to hand it to him, and he ruffled your hair affectionately and said, “next time, we’ll show ya how to party on Olympus,” before leaving - still barefoot.

Somehow that felt a little bit like a playful threat. It was certainly an intimidating thought, you were sure his parties were more wild than any college movie could depict.

Apollo smirked, took your hand, and softly kissed your knuckles, once again a gentleman. “Was my offering acceptable, Lord Apollo?” You asked playfully, referring to the eggs and previous night's pizza. He grinned.

“Acceptable, I suppose.” he replied, giving Hermes a light punch on the shoulder and saying something like “see you later, feathers,” before also taking his leave.

“Feathers. I like that nickname.” You said, as Hermes' arms snaked around you. He smiled, bright and loving, and you could see the silver in his eyes glowing just a bit.

“I'm glad you can hold your own against my siblings,” he said, giving you another kiss. You chuckled.

“Well, I have to hold my own against you, don't I?” You replied, sliding your own hands down to his waist and slipping a hand into his messenger bag. Right at the top, just inside a little pocket, was your phone, which you pulled back out and waved for him to see. He only looked proud - proud of himself and proud of you knowing him so well.

“Yes. Yes you do.” He readjusted his bag and leaned down to tighten his sandals, and you took the chance to muss his hair again, make him stay a moment longer. You grabbed his sunglasses from the coffee table while he put on his helmet, and then he was ready.

You had the rest of the day to yourself, the day off from work and no pressing errands. Maybe you would read a book or scroll on your phone. One last kiss goodbye and Hermes was gone, but you knew he would be back soon.

And right on time as you returned to the couch, your phone lit up with a text. Hyacinthus.

Your life was crazy, but you sure did love it.

-----

Check out Apollo's tattoos designed by @bambiilooloo !!! Thanks again for letting me reference your art! I *still* can't get over those swirlies 🤣🤣🤣🤣!!!

Also "three raccoons with glowing eyes staring at you from a trash can" is probably my favorite line I have ever and will ever write (/hj)