#warmed by alcohol

[love4hobi]

hoseok, suchwita ep. 12

[rowanhoney]

still no cure for the addicted to dark haired men disease

[yuqi-luv]

🍹࿐ ࿔.˚ that's what you do to me~ 🌺░ .˚𓇼

[districtscare]

“I thought you were Haymitch,” I say.

“No, he's still working on that muffin.”

him and his food avoidance!! i'm ill!!!!

[mitskijamie]

What would jamie in therapy look like?

Jamie really enjoys talking about things he likes and is interested in, and he's drawn to therapy by the idea that he would have someone to talk at about his day-to-day woes, so I think his first couple of sessions would mostly just be him talking about football and complaining about the problems he's having at Richmond (ie everyone hating him.)

Sharon suggests trying to show his teammates that he's sorry and open to changing through day-to-day actions instead of words/gifts, and it totally works, which builds a good rapport and makes him more willing to open up

After a few sessions of successfully working through some of the surface-level issues he has with the team and Roy and all that, Jamie feels more comfortable with Sharon and mentions that he's nervous about playing City in the semi-finals. And of course she's like "that's understandable, the stakes are high" and whatnot but he's like "no, I'm nervous because my dad will be there, and he's going to be a dick."

So they start scratching the surface of the abuse and enmeshment and setting boundaries and all that (very vaguely - "he's a prick," "he drinks," "he's on my ass all the time," "I take care of him," etc) which is where you get "I'd rather them not" and "Don't speak to me like that." But once Jamie's comfortable breeching the subject of his dad, it's like the floodgates open and they talk about his parents almost every day

They mostly talk about James and PTSD management, but they also talk a lot about Georgie and Simon, and sometimes Keeley and Roy and Ted

Jamie tells Sharon about the time James took him to Amsterdam as like. A positive memory, because his dad showed up for him and did something nice for him for once even if it "ended bad," and she honors his feelings about what happened but also tries to help him understand that what he experienced was rape & covert incest and shouldn't have happened

[crxwes]

Different than my usual art but I've been learning how to make dices 🐛

It's really funnnn . The only problem I have left is the bubbles ^_^ piccys r in chronological orders of tries and i have a fourth set curing rn

[foodshowxyz]

Warm Spiced Pear Juice

Preparation Time: 10 minutes Cooking Time: 20 minutes Servings: 4

Ingredients:

Pear juice: 4 cups (32 fl oz / 950 ml), unsweetened

Cinnamon stick: 1

Whole cloves: 3

Star anise: 1

Fresh ginger: 1-inch piece, sliced

Honey: 2 tbsp (optional)

Directions:

Introduction:

A warm and comforting beverage, perfect for cooler weather and suitable for a low-sodium diet.

Preparation:

Gather all the spices.

Prepare the ginger by slicing it into thin pieces.

Cooking:

In a medium saucepan, combine the pear juice, cinnamon stick, whole cloves, star anise, and sliced ginger.

Bring the mixture to a gentle simmer over medium heat.

Reduce the heat to low and let it simmer for 15-20 minutes to allow the flavors to infuse.

Remove from heat and strain the mixture to remove the spices and ginger slices.

Serving:

Stir in honey if desired for additional sweetness.

Pour into mugs and serve warm.

[wimsiecal]

Warm ups of DP except he's drunk and flirty x3

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 27: Relax

Nothing like taking a nice dip with your suspicious masked captor in his jacuzzi hot tub after almost perishing~🎵

[your-favourite-plague]

My first try at drawing my favorite guys

I hold them dear to my heart.

During the pivotal years of my childhood, I lived in the area where drunk people were quite a regular sight. They sat outside whole days, talking about life and football. Sometimes they beat the shit out of each other, but they were always nice to me.

As a kid, I didn't fully realize the tragedy I was witnessing.

[emilythesinner]

I was full of love.

I was so full of it.

& alcohol was cheaper than therapy.

[hope-for-the-planet]

“It’s the same idea as an insurance company raising your property insurance rates because you engage in risky behavior, like drunk driving. But in this case, it’s the fossil fuel sector that’s engaging in risky behavior by contributing to climate change.”

[katierosefun]

okay so now that i’ve officially finished watching leverage i just want to say that maybe i’m obsessed with this show on multiple levels and something about how it hits so many itches in that it’s about found family and it’s about fucking over bad, rich guys (no billionaire bootlicking in this show! and i fucking love it) and it’s also about how sometimes the bad guys are the only good guys you get and it’s also about how we are all stronger together it’s about how at the start of this show, we have all of these characters who are largely used to working alone and being alone and yet the show concludes that ultimately, we are better when we are together and by being together, we might be able to leave something behind that is bigger and brighter for the next people in our generation and no man is an island and no person is meant to beat goliath on their own or whatever

[artez-000-zetra]

Gazy Wazy

[theminecraftbee]

The room is a dim basement room. It has no windows. There’s a liquor cabinet, though, and a bookshelf full of notebooks, and a table and chairs, and a candle lighting the place. The candle doesn’t let off much smoke, but it’s steadily alight, indicating that the room’s oxygen content is still acceptable. A small, blinking device next to it confirms that any other electronic device in the area is well and truly dead. There’s tape sealing the door, so that no one can see the flicker of the candle inside.

There’s a bottle of brandy on the table. The glasses suggest neither party is bothering to savor it. It’s not a brand worth savoring, anyway; for all Scott could easily afford the expensive stuff, that’s not what he feels like he should drink while he’s down here.

He’s slumped forward on the table, hair askew. The hoodie he’s wearing doesn’t fit, because it isn’t his; neither are the sweatpants. He knows for a fact his contact is laughing at him for that. Whatever. She’s one of the only people who gets to know he has enough of a personal life to steal sweats from someone else anyway. May as well take advantage of that while he can. It’s not all impeccably-designed bulletproof suits out here.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Pearl says from across the table.

“Fuck off,” Scott says.

“...are you already drunk?”

Scott huffs. “So what if I am, huh? It’s not like I need to be alert while you’re out here in full costume.”

Pearl peels herself off the wall. She’s a relatively muscular woman wearing red and black. Her face is masked with a simple red circle. A lunar eclipse. Scott still has no idea how she sees through that thing. He’d made fun of her, back when she chose the getup for her criminal activities. Told her she looked like an evil dinnerplate or something. She’d told him in turn that he looked like a pretentious dork in his chosen costume. Judging by the whispers through the Hero Association about the two of them, though—

God. Through his Hero Association, or just about his. 

“Promoted to Vice Commander, huh?”

“I’ve sold my soul,” Scott says, and he takes another deep swig of his brandy. 

“You already did,” Pearl says.

“God, I hate you,” Scott says.

“It’s a good thing the feeling’s mutual,” Pearl says.

“I wish we’d never fucking met,” Scott says.

“I killed someone yesterday,” Pearl says.

Scott’s quiet.

“You can’t go telling me that,” Scott says. “That’s another thing to hide. You can’t just—Pearl.”

“I know,” Pearl says. “I know. But for all everyone’s scared of me, I normally manage to avoid—”

“Hah. We were both there when—”

“I know,” Pearl says. 

Scott sighs. He pours Pearl a glass and pushes it across the table. Pearl takes off her mask. Her eyes are rimmed red, and her face is covered in splotches. She’s always been terrible at hiding she’s been crying. She’s been terrible at it since they were ten, and had both quite suddenly realized that if it had been hard to have their powers alone, it was even harder once there was evidence they weren’t both just going crazy.

He’s hated her since he was eleven, really. Took the year to realize he probably would have always seen what his powers gave him as useless nightmares, otherwise, but after that, well. The feeling’s mutual, at least. He wouldn’t have been able to stand it, if the feeling hadn’t been mutual.

(A girl who can see deaths, and a boy who can see alternate universes. They make quite the pair.)

“I probably kill more people,” mutters Scott, halfway between a consolation and a competition.

“Not with your own hands.”

“Yeah, does that make it better? I’ve sold my—you know this. You know this.”

“Yeah,” Pearl says. “Yeah, I know. Thought I should congratulate you on succeeding.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

They’re both quiet for a while. Pearl takes a drink from her own glass and grimaces. “You can afford better brandy than this,” she says.

“Fuck off,” Scott says. “I can buy the cheap stuff for this.”

“Your taste is stupid,” Pearl says primly. “Next time we come down here to plan, I bring the drinks.”

“Right. Planning. Because we’re doing so much of that today.”

Pearl sighs. “Does Jimmy know you’re here?”

“Jimmy doesn’t exist, as far as you’re concerned,” Scott snaps. “I buried the man’s documents myself.”

“Eclipse will make anyone exist for the right price,” Pearl tells Scott.

“Jimmy doesn’t, or you don’t,” Scott snaps, voice low.

“Oh, now you’re sounding like a Vice Commander.” Scott gives her a two-fingered salute. Pearl shrugs. “Just saying.”

Scott considers arguing harder. Instead, something in his stomach shifts, and he pours a full glass of brandy. It’s not how you’re supposed to drink the stuff. He might have a good tolerance by now, but he fully expects to wake up with the worst hangover he’s had in years tomorrow. He deserves it.

“You uh… got enough alcohol there?” Pearl says.

“Got unclassified access to the Black Ops files when I was sworn in,” Scott says.

“Jesus,” Pearl says.

“I sold my soul,” Scott says. “I’m in charge of that now.”

“Jesus,” Pearl says again.

“And I kept thinking about the plans we had to—I can’t just dismantle that, Pearl. I can’t just—what are we doing?” Scott realizes his shoulders are shaking. “What are we doing, Pearl? The best of all possible endings? Don’t make me laugh—I can’t see this universe once we’re in it. Who are we to decide, huh? Who are we to, to try to…”

Pearl watches him for a while.

“I could have told you it would be bad,” she said.

“Do you think I didn’t know that?” Scott snaps.

“I killed someone yesterday. It’s not uncommon,” Pearl says.

“Great, so we both deserve to be executed!” Scott says, throwing his hands up. “Some of them started in the scholarship program, Pearl, they were scouted at sixteen!”

“And we were eleven,” snaps Pearl, and Scott shuts his mouth and looks away.

“Yeah, well. That’s not the Association’s fault, is it.”

The air hangs heavy. It smells like booze and candlelight and misery. Distantly, Scott wonders if Pearl was maybe right, asking if Jimmy knew where he was. The only other person on the list of people allowed to know Scott has a personal life, and he’s going to be disappointed in Scott again. Great. Scott’s lucky that, legally, the man doesn’t exist; if someone who legally existed was mad at Scott, he might just finally have to do something about it.

“You’re right,” says Pearl, finally. ”What are we doing?”

She slumps forward in her chair. She knocks back her own drink, but doesn’t pour herself another. Scott isn’t surprised. It’s not safe for both of them to be drunk. If the newly-promoted Vice Commander of the Hero Association is caught drinking with an infamous information broker, it’ll be the end of their house of cards. Scott’s powers helpfully decide to show him what happens at this juncture in that universe. Scandal, collapse, corruption—the worst part is, he thinks, is that it can’t even be all that different from this universe, only that the guy on the inside trying to change anything won’t be in power to do so. Maybe it would even be better.

Pearl ‘slits her throat’ in the night, his powers inform him. It’s not a suicide.

Scott can be selfish about that much. So can Pearl. They can’t be caught.

“I already knew most of it,” Scott says, finally. “But I’m in charge now. I sign the orders, right next to the Commander. I sign the ones his name can’t be caught on, too. I’m in.”

“Who better to lead than a man who can see the future?” Pearl says.

“You know that’s not how it works,” Scott says.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taunted you,” Pearl says.

“Jesus. Don’t apologize. You’ll make me think you’re an imposter,” Scott says.

“Yeah, well, the plan goes forward,” Pearl responds.

“Sure. Yeah. The plan goes forward,” Scott agrees. “The plan goes forward.”

Pearl reaches her hands across the table. Scott looks at them and, after a moment, reaches his own across to grab them. They sit there, holding each other’s hands, for a while, and it’s almost like they’re ten, and every horrible future the two of them can see flash by as possibilities is the end of the world, instead of another messy quagmire of maybe-just-as-bad-as-this-one. It had seemed much clearer then, really. It had seemed much easier. Scott doesn’t know. Maybe they were just stupider as kids.

Then again, he’d hated Pearl by eleven. He couldn’t have been that stupid.

He squeezes her hand tighter.

“Do good by them?” Pearl says, and it’s quiet and pained.

“Yeah,” Scott says.

“Okay,” Pearl says. “Okay.”

Slowly, Scott lets go of Pearl’s hands. He grabs the brandy again. He pours another glass. “I’m gonna get blackout drunk now,” Scott says.

“Sure. Just for tonight. I reserve the right to be sad and drunk next time,” Pearl says.

“Great planning,” Scott says.

“Yeah, well, we’ve still got a few hours,” Pearl says.

“I hate you,” Scott says.

Pearl smiles, for some ungodly reason.

“Yeah, me too.”

They stay there until Scott’s too drunk to stand up straight, and then Pearl lifts him around her shoulders and gets him outside to a cab. In the clothes he stole from Jimmy, no one can recognize him anyway. He’d think the hair would be distinctive enough, but apparently not. He won’t be caught today.

He muddles forward into the one future he can’t quite see.

[sturgeonsalad]

warm up sketches with a very strapping young lad