#alcoholism reference

[ashintheairlikesnow]

How often does Vince have nightmares about Owen after TSBA

(for newbies - this is a reference to The Same Bed Arc (see the links at the beginning of that epilogue to read it in order). It was super fun to write and you should read it if you haven't)

Pretty often. He has a lot of dreams that he missed and Owen was able to kill Kauri, or that he dreamed most of it and he's still cuffed to his own bed, or that the whole thing was a dream he had as Owen killed him.

He wakes up desperate for a drink.

He has to make do with water.

[gurn]

[joejoeba]

Thats bad for you 😠

⬇️ alt versions

[thefreakandthehair]

The thing about drinking at 31 years old is that it's different from drinking at 18 years old– or 21 years old, or even 25 years old. Each shot, each drink, is one sip away from a terrible night’s sleep and an equally terrible morning.

Eddie Munson’s figured this out. Steve Harrington though? Steve Harrington has not. 

That’s how Eddie finds himself corralling his husband onto the couch after stumbling into the house, the front door slamming loud enough to jolt their cat out of her otherwise peaceful slumber. She glares for a moment before stretching her paws and curling back into a neat little ball. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Steve repeats, an immediate tell that he’s definitely not making it any further than the couch anyways. “I’m good, I’m fine, this– this is a nice couch.” He punctuates his thought by slapping the cushion and laughing. 

Eddie shakes his head and grins. “Yep, it sure is. You picked it out, remember?” 

Steve gasps and laughs some more, falling back into the corner of the sectional. “I don’t but it’s comfy so if I did, I did a good fucking job.”

He watches with fond comfortability as Steve squirms around on the couch and lays back, arms over his head and dopey laugh still on his lips. It takes a lot of willpower and frankly, respect, not to climb on top of this giggly, flushed, disheveled man he loves so goddamn much and kiss him until he’s flushed for other reasons, but he digs deep and focuses on doing the next best thing: taking care of him. Eddie’s a little worse for the wear in his own right but a sliver of his iron constitution remains from his wild youth and he hangs on by a thread. 

Eddie gets Steve situated into a comfortable position, his back against one side of the cushions and his head propped up on a few pillows to make sure he doesn’t end up with his face smushed into the corner somehow. 

“I’m good, I’m fine– hey, hey, what are you doing?” Steve slurs and Eddie looks up from his position at the end of the couch, his fingers moving quickly as he unties Steve’s sneakers. 

“Taking your shoes off? You can’t sleep in your jeans, Stevie. You’ll thank me tomorrow.” 

Steve hums from somewhere high in his throat but doesn’t say anything else Eddie moves to unhook his belt. 

“Stop–stop it, hey, I’m married!” Steve smacks Eddie’s hand and Eddie barely suppresses a cackle. “You’re hot and all but I’m married and my husband’s hotter than you anyways.” 

With that, Eddie can’t stop himself. Warmth spreads through his chest as he laughs, from his heart all the way down to the tingling in his toes. Even drunk, even with his eyes closed, Steve would still choose him without a thought and sure, after all these years, it shouldn’t come as a surprise but it does. Because Steve is Steve, and Eddie is Eddie, and Eddie still hasn’t figured out what huge karmic debt he must’ve paid for them to have become SteveAndEddie.

He stares at Steve who’s nearly asleep but feebly muttering words like “hot,” and “perfect,” and “lucky.” 

“Hey, hey, Stevie, open your eyes for a second?” Eddie brushes the hair back from his forehead, gently shifting it away from his bloodshot, glossy eyes. He’s beautiful, even like this, what the fuck?

“Oh,” Steve’s eyebrow unfurrow and the right side of his mouth turns up into a small grin. “It’s you. Hi, Ed.” 

“Hi, Steve.” Eddie chuckles and kisses his forehead. “Gonna get your jeans off so you can sleep, okay?” 

“Mhm, yeah, that’s– thanks.” 

Eddie coaxes them off, tossing them onto a chair where they’ll remain until the next morning, and sets a glass of water down on the coffee table for when Steve inevitably wakes up with cottonmouth. One more soft kiss and an even softer blanket later, Steve is out and Eddie tip toes up the stairs to bed. 

The next morning, Eddie wakes to see Steve next to him. At some point, he must’ve woken up and gotten himself to bed which gives Eddie the opportunity to stare uninterrupted in the silence of their bedroom. It stands in stark contrast to the boisterous night before– the loud music and jumping bodies and Chrissy popping a bottle of champagne in celebration of Robin saying yes, as if there’d ever been a doubt. 

Steve’s on his back, the sun just starting to intrude on their tranquility. He takes in Steve’s features, the same ones he’s memorized time and time again but that never fail to stun him just the same. The moles, the freckles, the scars that make him ache and feel thankful simultaneously. The strong line of his jaw, the eyelashes that flutter as he sleeps, that one tendril of hair that insists on curling until Steve forces it into place. Eddie’s seen a lot of the world now, having traveled a bit with his band, and there’s nothing that compares to the man sleeping next to him. 

Even if he’s snoring. 

When Steve does eventually wake up, trudging downstairs with one eye open and asking why Long Island Iced Tea’s even exist, Eddie’s ready with the necessities– a black iced coffee, two sausage, egg, and cheese sandwiches delivered to their doorstep, and a Gatorade for himself. 

“You’re the fucking best, you know that?” Steve smiles through the pounding headache as he sips his coffee and tears into the sandwich. 

“Eh, I try,” Eddie grins with a mouthful of egg and leans over to bump their shoulders together. 

Comfortable quiet drapes over them like the blanket from last night still over the back of the couch, and like the jeans hanging off the recliner– little reminders of the night before and of the domesticity of the life they’ve built together. 

Once Steve finishes his sandwich, their cat, Florence, hops up on the table and starts batting at the rolled up wrappers. 

“Think she wants to play,” Steve grumbles, sliding off the couch and laying on the carpet. “Listen, Florence, you know I love you but kid, I cannot play right now. I’m barely alive.” 

Eddie doubles over and nearly spits Gatorade all over the coffee table. Even their terrible, hungover, washed up mornings aren't all that bad.

[hopelessgaymer]

The official names of the character specific classes!

[pfhwrittes]

"you love him. you've loved him since you were 9 and you love him now 20 years later." TW: references to transphobic bullying, angst, fluff, allusions to offscreen smut, alcohol mention, menstruation mention. pairing: kyle x ftm!reader

1.5k words of childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers. as always i've barely edited it so typos and errors may remain. edit to add: a massive thank you and shout out to @gemmahale for cheerleading me with this one and reminding me to trust my instincts. i love you a lot.

-- you love him. you’ve loved him since he first shared his curly-wurly during break time at primary school. head over heels puppy love. your mum teasing you with a “my little girl with her first boyfriend!” despite the way it makes your cheeks burn (and something twist inside your chest) when you both stand shyly together at 3.15 hand in hand waiting to go home. 

you love kyle when he’s the joseph to your mary in the nativity. you love the way the teatowel your mum leant his mum slips into his eyes and causes him to laugh and forget his next line about needing to find an inn. you love him when he wraps you up in a big hug when missus king takes a photo of you both as your mum cheers the loudest from the back of the little crowd in the assembly hall. 

you love kyle even when you both grow up and go to secondary school at 11, split up into different form groups and different timetables. you love him even more when he folds you into his little band of miscreants, “one of the boys” he says with a cheeky grin that warms you all the way through.

you love kyle when he chooses you first for the biology practical lesson, flicking little slithers of onion at you to make you laugh, despite the way anna-marie looks you up and down and whispers something cruel about how “he just pities the he-she” loud enough for you to hear. 

you love kyle when he skives off school with you the day your period takes you unaware. he sneaks in through the kitchen door 15 minutes after your mum leaves for work, a battered curly-wurly and bottle of oasis clutched in one hand and his rucksack in the other. you love him when he settles onto the sofa, dragging your duvet over the two of you, flicking the telly on so you can both watch bargain hunt together. 

you love kyle the day he cuddles you into his chest, completely uncaring about the way your snot and tears mark his t-shirt as you sob, both of you curled up on your bed. you love him so completely when he listens to you stutter out that you think you’re not really a girl. you still love him when he pulls away for the first time, a tiny frown on his face. you still love him when he doesn’t reply to your text asking him if he got home alright later that night. 

you still love kyle when he starts ignoring you in school, no longer coming to find you during lunchtime. you still love him when he doesn’t laugh along with harry when you trip during design tech but he doesn’t stop james hissing “freak show” as you rub at your hip from where you banged into their table. 

you still love kyle even when your mum sits you down at the kitchen and asks you how you feel about moving schools at 16. you still love kyle when you ask her “but what about kyle?” and her voice catches when she offers you a gentle “oh love” with wet eyes. 

you still love kyle when he stumbles into you at mattie’s house party when you’re both 18, a shocked look on his face when he takes in your close cropped hair and wispy facial hair on your cheeks, despite the fact you haven’t spoken in years. you still love kyle even when he calls you the wrong name and your mumble gets swallowed up by cheers from the kitchen as someone spots kyle in the hallway. you still love kyle when you spot him crowd mattie’s older sister georgia up against the bannister and kiss her breathless before leading her up the stairs with his hand on her waist. you still love kyle when you end up sobbing into alex’s neck, their hand rubbing your back gently as the dew from the front lawn soaks the knees of your jeans. you still love kyle even as alex murmurs that “you should just forget him babe” into your hair as you sob anew.

you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle the next time you run into him, many years later when you pop into the pub under oath from mattie to meet her for a quick pint to catch up. you recognise the shape of kyle’s smile even if he is partially turned away to grin at a man with broad shoulders and a slightly flattened mohawk standing next to him at the bar. you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle when he catches you looking and his smile slips momentarily as he offers you a tiny nod of acknowledgement before turning back to his friend. you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle even when your eyes keep drifting over to him and the other three men in the corner booth as mattie fills you in on everything you missed during your years travelling around australia. 

you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle when you bump into him again in the same pub the following week. literally bumping into him as you turn away from the bar with a pint in your hand. kyle steadies you with a hand on your forearm and you feel your heart soar before plummeting into the sticky carpet at your feet. you pull your arm away from him and your drink sloshes over the rim of your glass as you offer him a tight smile before stepping to the side. you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle, but you can’t help but feel the warmth of his hand long after you’ve rejoined mattie and alex at your table. 

you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle but a thrill goes up your spine when he asks you if he could “have a word with you, mate” as he joins you in the beer garden the week after that. you’ve forgotten how much you loved kyle but your heart aches as he stumbles his way through an apology. you’ve forgotten how much you missed your friend kyle when he makes you stutter out a surprised laugh when he talks about his friend soap knocking some sense into him. 

you’ve forgotten how much you missed your friend kyle when he texts you asking if you want to join him and his sisters for a chinese. you’ve forgotten how much you’ve missed your friend kyle when he hands you his vegetable spring rolls without asking. you’ve forgotten how much you’ve missed your friend kyle when after dinner he leads you up to his childhood bedroom and he kicks his dirty socks under his bed like you’ve seen him do many times before. you’ve forgotten how much you’ve missed your friend kyle when your ribs ache from laughing and he’s wearing that beautiful grin. 

you’ve forgotten how much you’ve missed your friend kyle when he slips into the open seat next to you at the pub, his arm slung over the back of your chair, much to the matching shocked expressions of mattie and alex. you’ve forgotten how much you’ve missed your friend kyle when he takes alex’s frosty demeanour on the chin. you fall in love with your friend kyle again when he responds to mattie’s pointed rhetorical “you know you broke his heart, yeah?” with a small squeeze to your shoulder and serious “i know, i was a fucking idiot.”.

you fall in love with kyle again when his hands shake on your waist as he leans in to kiss you outside your house under the flickering glow of a streetlight. just like you hoped he would so many years ago when you were both teenagers. you fall in love with kyle again when he pulls away to take in your stupefied expression and he asks if you’re okay, if he can kiss you again. you fall in love with kyle again when he gently turns you around so he can push you up against the front door to trail sucking kisses down your neck as your keys hit the doormat with a tinkling sound. you fall in love with kyle again when you ask him to slow down - wait - please - as he’s reaching for the top button of your jeans. you fall in love with kyle again when he traces gentle fingers over the scars on your chest, adoration in his eyes.

you love kyle when you trip over your boxers and his shirt the following morning as you stumble to the bathroom. you love kyle when you slip back into bed and he sleepily nuzzles into your neck. you love kyle when his phone blares his alarm from the back pocket of his trousers near the door to your bedroom 30 minutes later. 

you love him. you’ve loved him since you were 9 and you love him now 20 years later as he presses a kiss to your hair. you love him. -- taglist: @kaadaaan

[will-o-theforce]

‘Husker Caught Looking at a Billboard of Angel,’ alcohol marker and pen liner by E. Willow (31/03/24)

Based on this post:

I’m not happy with the composition of the writing, but that’s a lesson learned in doing it in pencil first. Also, not seen here but Angel’s tooth is coloured with a glitter pen.

[strawglicks]

flint getting themselves into trouble cuz its funny

[merthurians-prat-and-idiot]

Buck tries to go to both Chim & Maddie's Bachelor/ette parties even though they're on at exactly the same time across town from each other. He gets a taxi back and forth 27 Dresses style. Buck gets progressively more bedraggled looking as the night goes on (but no-one really notices because they're all pretty tipsy). The burn on his trouser leg is from when he was running back to one of the parties' and tried to vault over an open fire pit outside the restaurant. And one of the times when he gets back to Chim's he full on collides with Eddie (who might've started to wonder where the heck Buck's been rushing off to & come outside to find him but shh) & they go tumbling onto the grass- Eddie spills an entire bottle of wine over his shirt (hence taking it off) and Buck's suit leg.

[keiksy-cake]

Germany's third page from the Hetalia Collezione

Please take a moment to recognize just how much effort was necessary to clean this page and understand why I've avoided these kind of pages... (please it was so hard esp since some are shaded differently than the originals 😭)

all collezione pages

[Please note, I’m an amateur in Japanese and have to use various resources and translation machines to help me. If you notice a possible mistake or want clarification, please bring it up to me *politely* and not aggressively or hostile.]

[smrtnik07]

[hammerbonk]

Here’s a goofy ooc Vernetto exchange I came up with. Tbh I just wanted to think about sleep deprived Vertin being silly and Sonetto continuing to never beat the ouppy allegations💀💀

Sugarcrash

Recently, Sonetto had witnessed the Timekeeper go through one of their most challenging ordeals yet: no Picrasma Candy.

They were due to get another batch from Medicine Pocket themself, but due to ‘higher priority projects’, they refused to manufacture any unless Vertin coughed up some extra funds, which they had a distinct lack thereof.

When Sonetto checked earlier that day, Vertin had been on their last few pieces, determined to ration what they had. It was now late in the evening, leaving Sonetto with very grim feelings about what state her superior could possibly be in.

She could distantly recall learning the signs of withdrawal symptoms, and her blood ran cold. If the claims of Pricrasma Candy containing alcohol were to be believed, then Vertin could be suffering from a lack of that and the cell stimulating effect of the Pricrasma concentrates.

And as the Timekeeper’s chief assistant, their wellbeing was her top priority! She had to check up on them.

“Timekeeper? It’s Sonetto. Please may I come in?”

She knocked on Vertin’s door, ears pricked for a reply.

“Come in.” Came the Timekeeper’s voice in an unusually flat tone.

Entering their office, Sonetto immediately made a beeline to Vertin, whose posture was a bit too rigid while their head was slumped at a good 45° angle.

Even in their exhaustion, they held onto the pen that they were using to fight off the insurmountable amount of paperwork they had received. Her gaze softening, Sonetto wrenched the pen from their hand and put it aside.

“It’s alright, Timekeeper,” she whispered gently. “You can go rest in your room. I’ll handle the rest of the reports for you.”

In scenarios like these, Sonetto expected to hear some sort of protest from the ever altruistic Vertin. But to her surprise, none came. They simply watched her as she took the papers from their desk.

“Mmh… Thank you, Sonetto…”

There was a long pause before Vertin said something else, half lidded silver eyes blinking slowly at her.

“…pretty.”

“Sorry?” Sonetto asked, cheeks instantly turning as red as her hair.

“Pretty girl. You’re such a pretty girl,” Vertin said in an incoherent manner that somewhat resembled cooing. “Who’s a pretty girl? Who’s a pretty girl? You are, you are…”

To Sonetto’s flabbergasted delight, Vertin brought their gentle, uncoordinated hands to her head, ruffling her hair and squishing her cheeks, all the while tumbling all sorts of strange praises from her mouth.

But just as she was settling into the affection, they snapped out of it, and quickly recoiled their hands. She just barely put a lid on the whine that was about to escape her throat.

“My apologies, Sonetto,” Vertin whispered, mortified at themself. “To be frank… I think I am losing it.”

“I— you—” she took a deep breath. “That’s alright, Timekeeper.”

[nymdraws]

learning csp with some scribbles of These Guys

[wildpiercy-art]

[revletter]

Genovember Day 26: A story both Bowser and Geno still tell to this day - but only Bowser knows the punch line.

So for Genovember, I've been WRITING Geno every day. Mostly work on long things, but lots and LOTS of goofy short things. And I had a crazy thought today that maybe I should actually freakin post some of them 👀

Here's one! (cw: alcohol)

Geno and Bowser go to the Grate Guy casino together

Bowser eggs Geno on to get into a one-on-one drinking contest with him

Geno declines for a while, because he's 100% sure alcohol would have no effect on a doll and he doesn't want to hurt Bowser

Bowser doesn't quit until finally Geno's like, "Dude, if you REALLY want to play a game you KNOW you're going to lose, fine. You're buying."

They have some surprisingly genuine bonding time as Bowser gets drunker and drunker and opens up in ways Geno didn't expect

Geno is very understanding as he keeps up with Bowser shot for shot - no effect on him, nothing, nada

And THEN

Bowser pisses someone off

Slowly it becomes clear that a bar fight is about to close in on them

And, with his pal Bowser absolutely sloppy-sloshed, Geno realizes that HE'S going to have to deal with it.

There they are, about to face off against a bar full of angry thuggernauts or whatever

Geno is 100% annoyed but also 100% here to defend his ally

Bowser is 200% READY for this fight and 0% able to tell the difference between a person and a barstool

and then

just before it goes down

Geno's like

"Yo Bowser."

"Weh?"

"I just realized something."

"Whuh?"

"I can get drunk!"

And Geno falls on his face.

Bowser proceeds to get ABSOLUTELY TROUNCED by the ENTIRE BAR

(Throughout this, Geno just lies there about 0.5% conscious and feeling quite excellent, and through some dumb luck remains blissfully unharmed; he will not remember any of it)

They both get thrown out of the bar (Geno is still very much not awake for this)

And that's the story of how Bowser and Geno got banned from the Grate Guy Casino.

[cantdealwiththisnow]

Part 1 - Appreciation post for all the TFP universe Autobot mugshot cameos (known and unknown) in RID2015 3x25 (even if the context is that they've been OUSTED against their will)