Alcoholic Beverages---Friday

[sharpiesgal.livejournal.com]

Hello, gang! Tis me, your friendly neighborhood sharpiesgal, and today is my last day as guest host. *cries*

Anywho, let's go out with a bang.

Today's theme will be alcoholic beverages. Use it anyway you want. Just remember to party responsibly.

And as always, a reminder of the rules.

--No more than five prompts in a row. If someone fills one of your prompts, you are then free to prompt again.
--No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
--No spoilers in prompts!
--If your fill contains spoilers, please warn & leave plenty of space.

And another friendly reminder, please format your prompts properly:

Hawaii 5-0, Steve/Danny, Longboards after a rough case
Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, stopping in at the Roadhouse for a drink
Highlander, Duncan, Darius, the first pressing of a new vintage

I have a wonderful time and hope to do this again.

Peace out.

tag=alcoholic beverages

Comments

[sharpiesgal.livejournal.com]

Hawaii 5-0, Steve/Danny, Longboards after a rough case

[lasairfhiona.livejournal.com]

Steve knew the case had been a hard one for Danny. He wasn't a father and he felt the death of the little girl. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for his partner having a little girl and all. He'd left while Danny was talking to Grace, know that he needed to connect with her in some manner and since Rachel was currently mad at him and he couldn't go over a phone call was going to have to do.

When he got back from his errand, he found Danny sitting on the back porch. Setting the case of Longboards down he pulled one out and handed it to Danny. "Here. We got nothing to do but get drunk."

Danny took the beer and finished it in one breath. As he handed it back to Steve he found a second opened and waiting for him.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No. Just keep the beer coming."

Steve nodded and calculated how many it would take before Danny started to talk and then how many more before he passed out. Doing the math, he wasn't sure if the case he bought would be enough for both of them.

[sharpiesgal.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, stopping in at the Roadhouse for a drink

[sharpiesgal.livejournal.com]

Highlander, Duncan, Darius, the first pressing of a new vintage

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, Roy Mustang (+Riza or Maes or Aunt Chris), First Hangover

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Burn Notice, Sam(+Any), "I'll have another mojito."

FILL: Dos

[rise-your-dead.livejournal.com]

"So you can't find the car?"

"Nope," Michael says.

"And you think it might be somewhere in Alabama?"

"That's what I'm hearing."

"AND Fi's given you the slip because she wants to hunt down the perps herself, which is why I'm gonna be missing out on some primo Sammy time with Elsa?"

"Yep."

Sam held up two index fingers. "Better make that two mojitos, Pablo."

[darkwingduckie7.livejournal.com]

Torchwood, Ianto, Ianto gets drunk and exposes his inner emotions to someone (could be one of the team or stranger)

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

The Big Bang Theory, Ensemble, "That's not how you make a Pan Galatic Gargle Blaster!"

[roslindi.livejournal.com]

Suits, Mike/Harvey, celebratory drinks after a successful conclusion to a case

tiny fill

[hobnailedboots.livejournal.com]

"Of all the gin joints in the world--"

"--we had to walk into this one?"

"Mmm," said Harvey, lips pressed tightly together as he surveyed the bar. "At least here you might be able to afford something."

"Maybe my employers should give me a raise? After all," Mike said, taking a seat at the bar, "I was the one who discovered the ambiguity in the contract which, as you know, is construed contra preferentem, thereby giving our client the--"

"Yes, yes. You did good. Drinks are on me."

"And the raise?"

"Don't push it."

[rattyjol.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Ash + Ellen + Jo, in the Heaven-Roadhouse, the drinks never run out

[merryghoul]

Burn Notice, Fiona, bloody marys

[rattyjol.livejournal.com]

Queen's Thief, Gen/Irene, she's always very careful not to go beyond tipsy so one day he goes out of his way to get her properly drunk

[merryghoul]

Torchwood, Ianto, he knows how the team drinks their beers by how they leave the bottles on the break table

Not a fill

[sharpiesgal.livejournal.com]

I love your icon.

[rattyjol.livejournal.com]

Good Omens, Crowley + Aziraphale, they were both drunk when they agreed on the Arrangement

[rattyjol.livejournal.com]

Good Omens, Adam + Crowley + Aziraphale, Adam switches out all their wine for nonalcoholic stuff and sees if they notice

[rattyjol.livejournal.com]

Good Omens, the Them, a drunk Antichrist is frightening enough, but a drunk Pepper is downright terrifying

[with-rainfall.livejournal.com]

Animorphs, group + Ax, Andalites and alcohol mix better than they thought

[with-rainfall.livejournal.com]

SPN, Dean+ or /Sam, Dean is hit with a no-drinking curse.

[zelda-addict.livejournal.com]

Dean wouldn't have said anything if he'd realized the witch wasn't quite dead. As it was, he was just glad he hadn't added "and some pie" to his statement of "After this, I'm gonna need a drink."

Curses uttered on a dying breath were seriously powerful dark magic. They weren't unbreakable or anything, it was just going to take a while, and in the meantime...

"Dude," Sam declared, accompanied by an eye roll, "if you sigh mournfully at that beer one more time, I swear I'm going to break something."

"It's so not fair!" Dean groused. "You're the one that shot her first!"

Sam couldn't help a small smirk. "Maybe, but you're the one with the big mouth."

Dean was currently cursed to be unable to consume any alcohol. They'd gone to the local tavern, and Dean's first beer had slid across and off the bar, shattering on the floor. Attempt number two had been knocked out of his hand when a random fight broke out among some of the other patrons. Dean hadn't actually tried opening this bottle of beer in the motel room, claiming all the wasted booze on the floor was real "alcohol abuse."

Dean stomped over to the mini-fridge and returned the bottle from whence it came. Then he grabbed his jacket and keys and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Out for pie." Dean gave his brother a challenging look that clearly said, "You got a problem with that?" without any words at all.

"I'll keep researching counter-curses," Sam offered in a appeasing tone. "I'll call if I find anything."

"You'd better." At least he didn't slam the door behind him.

Sam started booting up the laptop and then strolled over to the fridge. He wasn't cursed! The beer was the last one. He thought about it for moment before he took it. They could always buy more, and until then, Dean wouldn't have anything to mope over.

[with-rainfall.livejournal.com]

Any, any, don't touch the spirits

Fill (PG)

[orlidepp.livejournal.com]

"They're horrible, you know," he said in a deep and grave voice. The expression in his glazed eyes suggested that any one should know that "they" were horrible for it was as obvious as the nose on their faces, but the tone in which he spoke made it sound as though he was revealing a great, dark secret bigger than the end of time itself.

"What's horrible?" Nathan asked patiently as he walked beside him. Josiah slumped, and he pulled his arm back along his own back and yanked the Preacher back up to his booted feet.

Josiah hiccuped. Nathan smiled. The tiny sound coming out of the big mountain of a man, his man, was almost cute. Then he let rip a long, loud, and putrid belch, and Nathan's smile vanished. His nose crinkled instead, but he still didn't call Josiah on his predicament as he kept him walking toward the church.

"The spirits. Those awful -- hic --, awful spirits are the source -- hic -- of much of trouble in this world of -- belch -- ours. You are well -- hic -- aware of that, aren't you, -- hic -- Brother -- belch -- Nathan?"

Nathan's wide grin revealed his big, white teeth. "Sure am," he said, kicking the church doors open.

Josiah swooned. He grabbed him and tried to lift him up as the Preacher's eyes closed, but he wasn't strong enough to hold him. Josiah slumped against him. Nathan started tottering beneath him and was just about to fall off of the porch when the weight was lifted. Nathan smiled over at Vin and nodded his thanks.

The tracker was as quiet and sure footed as he was when hunting a criminal or freeing one of their own. Together, not bothering to waste words as the Preacher's loud snores rattled the windows, Vin and Nathan carried Josiah to his bed. They dumped him unceremoniously into it.

Yet, as Josiah hit the sheets, his eyes flew open. His strong hands reached up, grabbing both men by their necks and snatched them down to him. His red eyes pierced them; they seemed to have the power to see into their very souls. "Don't touch the spirits," he breathed.

"Th-That's fine," Nathan assured him. "We . . . We ain't gonna touch no spirits."

"What he said," Vin murmured, barely able to talk for the fist closing around his throat.

Josiah smiled, appeased at Nathan's words. His head started to move in a nod but then fell back. His eyes shut. He was snoring before his hands lost their grip on his friends.

Vin jumped away from the Preacher's bed as though he'd been burned. He fingered his collar and rubbed his throat gingerly. He looked to Nathan, wondering how on Earth he slept with a man like that but didn't ask him. Instead, he turned and left, keeping his thoughts to himself.

The healer had learned long ago to read white men expertly. Being able to understand white people's intentions, especially those thoughts that went unspoken, had helped him survive passage through many a prejudiced town. Vin wasn't prejudiced. He was just the opposite, in fact, believing that every person's worth was in their soul and heart and not the color of their skin or any other lesser important detail than those that really mattered.

Still, Nathan had seen the look in his eyes and understood his doubt and confusion as to how he could sleep with Josiah, who was so violent both when lost in his nightmares and his spirits. The others thought that Josiah's spirits were purely the alcohol storming through his bloodstream, but Nathan knew it was much more than that. Those weaker spirits helped him hide from the spirits that truly bothered him, but he wouldn't let either take him in the end.

He slipped into bed beside him, curled his body around his lover's, and wrapped him in the safe cocoon of his arms. Josiah murmured in his sleep, but Nathan's voice soothed him back to dreamland as he reassured him, "It's okay, baby. We ain't gonna touch any of those nasty spirits, neither can. We're safe now. We're safe here."

And they were safe in this town and in this band of men who were more of a family than anything most of them had ever had. They were safe together. They were safe in love.

[(Anonymous)]

SPN, Sam/Dean, drunk "I'm glad you're alive" sex

[with-rainfall.livejournal.com]

^That was me, sorry.

[analise010.livejournal.com]

X-Men (movieverse), Logan/Rogue, Rogue chugs Logan's six pack and then confesses her love. He isn't sure what to be more angry about.

[mae-stark.livejournal.com]

LOVE THIS PAIRING.
And I actually wrote something quite similar to this last year. The link is here (http://mae-stark.livejournal.com/14205.html#cutid1) if you're interested.

[analise010.livejournal.com]

Xena: Warrior Princess, Xena/Gabrielle, "I didn't know you liked wine."

[analise010.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter, any, Their first butterbeer together.

[livingtolaugh.livejournal.com]

Fill: Dobby+Winky, Commiserations.

Hope it's ok.

"Winky was a good house elf ..." she mutters, opening her butterbeer, and sitting down in a corner. Dobby nods, settling down beside her.

"Winky is a good house elf," he says carefully. She chokes on her butterbeer, spraying it down her front.

"No, no,no, no, no! Winky was, she isn't anymore, and what will her master do without her?!"

There are lots of things Dobby could say, perhapes somethings he should say, but he has learned that not every elf is as glad of freedom as he is. To Winky, it's a faliure, nothing more. She failed the master she loved, and who is he to judge her on that?

No matter how wrong he thinks she is ...

So he sighes, and plucks the butterbeer from her hand. It's more than half full still, somehow. Winky is looking at him, her eyes wide and brimming with tears, and Dobby smiles.

"To freedom, and hoping Winky's master realises what a mistake he's made," he says, taking a swallow from the bottle. The tears in Winky's eyes spill over, and she takes her bottle back.

"He was right to let Winky go ..." she whispers, as she takes a drink, but Dobby can see the gratitude in her eyes. So that makes it ok.

Freedom can't be ok for every elf, but happiness should and he's more than willing to drink to that.

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

Animorphs, Marco (/Rachel), he drinks a silent toast to her (post war)

fill

[rattyjol.livejournal.com]

(( Goddammit, aaaaangst. It's all your fault. ))

You've got a baseball cap pulled low over your eyes and think if there were someone to talk to you might make a crack about cowboys and ask if you looked like John Wayne. The setting fits, too: some hole-in-the-wall place that's nothing but a grease spot on most maps and doesn't ask for ID. You could go to a nicer place and flash your card, sure; no barkeep's going to turn down this eighteen year old's order. But you're not looking for people to recognize you, to cheer and snap photos and ask for autographs, not today of all days.

Independence Day. That's what people have started calling it, a stupid joke about an alien movie. You think you probably started it, on some talk show or another. The day the Earth shook off its Yeerk oppressors and stomped them into the ground; that's how people will think of it. You consider the people who brought about the first Independence Day, way back when. You never paid enough attention in history class to remember much about them, but you wonder if they ever felt like this.

You study the bartop. It's got a layer of grime half an inch thick and would probably need about two buckets of cleaner and a steel wool pad before it would come even close to passing a health inspection. The glassware is passably clean, at least, though it could use a run through a dishwasher or two.

Behind you, a group of drunken rednecks begins loudly toasting the Animorphs or, more accurately, loudly cussing out the Yeerks. To these people they're nothing but the Big Bad, Evil Incarnate, the Black in a history book of Black and White Morality. Winners write the history books, after all, but you guess that's why you don't feel like much of a winner.

You hunch your shoulders and tune them out, something you've always been good at. You haven't even touched your first glass yet, even though you've been here an hour, and the bartender is starting to look at you a little weird, but you've paid for your drink and if you want to stare at the greasy bartop through the lens of an undrunk beer then you damn well can.

You don't know what you're doing here, only that you didn't want to spend tonight alone in your too-big mansion, and you don't want to go out clubbing with people who don't give a shit. Your parents might understand, you think, but it's when you're not a kid anymore that you wish a hug from Mom or Dad could make the whole world right.

So you spend the night alone in this dump instead, only not alone, because there's always that ghost hovering over your shoulder, with her possibly mocking, probably reckless, definitely insane laugh. And that's what you're doing here, you think, as you raise your glass in a silent toast and drain it dry. You stand and throw down a tip, adjust your cap so you don't do something embarrassing like trip over a table or walk into a doorframe. As you head out into the night, you think maybe next you'll go see Jake.

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Jo + Ellen, she teaches her daughter to take shots and shoot a gun

[natural-blue-26.livejournal.com]

BtVS, any, blood-infused vodka is just not appealing to him/her

[lynne-monstr.livejournal.com]

Giles looked at the brightly colored bottles behind the bar (did the children really drink those things) and sipped his scotch in silent rebellion. Purples, neon blues, even – oh dear lord – chocolate tequila. He took another sip, larger this time.

He’d thrown away more than his principles, he realized, back in those dark days of his youth when time was nothing more than a whirlwind of magic and blood and rituals. He’d squandered a prime business opportunity.

In fairness, it was Ethan who’d come up with the idea. The rituals they favored often required ingestion of human or demon blood. Which they all agreed was disgusting. Ethan had suggested combining the blood with another favorite pastime: drinking. Thus began the era of blood infused vodka.

Giles never cared for the stuff himself (though it was preferable to blood without the vodka, surely). But, looking around at the outrageous products on display, he couldn’t help but think that, had he walked a different path, he could quite possibly be a business tycoon today instead of a Watcher.