Ya'll want to know the funniest shit?
I'm researching the era when Alastor was alive right now to get a better idea of both his character, the life he lived before Hell, and to hash out a backstory for him.
And so, apparently, Alastor lived through the Prohibition (which was basically the United States government illegalizing the manufacture, transportation, and sale of alcohol because they thought it was the cause of a lot of domestic violence and child abandonment).
Alastor canonically died in 1933.
Do you know how long the Prohibition lasted?
From 1920-1933.
ALASTOR LITERALLY DIED THE SAME YEAR ALCOHOL BECAME LEGAL AGAIN. CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW BITTER HE MUST'VE BEEN?
The Prohibition officially ended on December 5, 1933, and now my headcanon is that Alastor died December 6, 1933. Literally the day after he could legally drink all the booze he wanted.
I am learning a LOT about New Orleans and the era Alastor lived through (including the gay community in the city at the time) which has been a lot of fun, and I just wanted to share that tidbit because it is so fucking funny to me.
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Agreeing to get there in fifteen minutes was stupid! Their apartment was on the far side of town! Agreeing at all was stupid, anyway. Her siblings would kill her if they knew she was meeting a guy, practically a stranger, in the middle of the night, like, what was she even thinking—
She saw Lukas ahead, and all that thinking just went away. He smiled warmly as Mist got close, and now she just felt stupid for making him worry.
“I’m so sorry, you really didn’t have to do this. I’m fine, really,” she rambled, and he laughed.
“You didn’t ask, I offered, dummy.”
“Well, yeah, but...” She trailed off, fidgetting with the hem of her shorts.
“You been on the beach yet?” He nudged her shoulder, and she glanced up with a smile, then shook her head. He flicked his head in that direction, and after a brief hesitation, she followed him onto the sand. “Me neither.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “No? Not even for fresher’s week?”
He laughed. “Naaaah.”
“Really? That surprises me.”
“Because I look like a beach party guy?” he asked, brow raised in amusement.
Mist flushed. “Kinda,” she mumbled.
“It’s the tan and the blonde hair, right?”
Don’t answer that. Still, he chuckled at her noticeable silence.
“You’re half right,” Lukas admitted. “Love the beach, hate the people on it. Drunk people even more so.”
“Alcohol and unpredictable water does sound like a terrible combination,” Mist reasoned. “Especially at night. A recipe for disaster, really.”
“Exactly. And I wouldn’t be able to stop myself telling people to cool it, ya know? I’d just ruin their fun, so I stay away.”
|<Previous | Beginning | Next>|
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Red Cheeks and Blue Ribbons
NOT A PR0MPT
“Headquarters sent out an email. It’s your birthday.”
Hero nodded. Yes, it was their birthday. Leader said it as though Hero didn’t know their own birth date. At least headquarters knew better than to send them the email on top of everyone else. ‘Hey, Hero! In case you forgot, it’s your very own birthday today!’ Hero would have chuckled if not for the confused look on Leader’s face as they began speaking.
“I usually don’t- um… I mean… We’re not supposed to-”
It was now that Hero realized there was a small box in Leader’s hands. And not just any box; it was a gift box- blue cardboard with a darker blue ribbon atop.
“It’s nothing big, but… you’re a good addition to the team. We’re closer, stronger, more vulnerable…” Leader trailed off.
Vulnerable was an interesting choice of words, but Hero shrugged it off with a hint of a smirk. They knew what Leader meant.
“I imagine informing you that your cheeks are going red would embarrass you further so I’ll say this instead: thank you for the gift.” Hero took the box from Leader’s clammy hands. “I’ll be sure to thank the team,” they said with a quick wink.
Before walking away, Hero added, “Allow yourself more confidence next time. You’re pretty cute when you fluster, but confidence is more my forte. Got it?”
Hero could have sworn they heard Leader swallow.
“I’ll- uh… yeah. Confident. More confident. No, I’ve always been confident.” Leader shook their head. “Happy birthday, Hero.” And they ducked their head as they strode down the hall, separating themself from the situation and their own embarrassment.
Leader wasn’t so messy with anyone else on the team. Hero managed a smile. They could get used to a flustered Leader if it came down to it.
(Banner by the lovely @creweemmaeec11 . Thank you, Crew <3)
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inspired by a conversation around the thought: “after the bathroom breakup in s2, what if steve becomes very uncomfortable around nancy when she’s drunk?” and then this happened. tw for mentions of alcoholism (not any of the characters in the story) and have fun!
Steve watches Nancy drape herself over Robin on the couch and take a long sip from her solo cup. He doesn't drink anymore, not since Starcourt, so he's made a habit of being the designated driver. With that comes tracking everyone's drinks.
No designated driver Steve ever knew back in high school did that, but he thinks it’s the bare minimum.
Steve goes over it in his head. They’ve all been here two hours. Eddie took a beer from the fridge, and Steve hasn't seen him have anything since. Robin’s only had three drinks, same as Jonathan, but Jonathan had a joint on top of that. Argyle hasn't had anything to drink, but he's on his third joint.
Nancy, though? This is cup number six. She’s been pouring her own drinks, too, and Steve knows she has a very generous pour.
He just watches. Watches how Nancy props her feet up on the arm of the couch, watches how she reaches up to play with Robin’s hair. Listens to her giggle.
Watches as she keeps drinking from that solo cup.
Knows that she's gonna get up to get another one soon.
He takes a breath. Then another.
He still feels nauseous.
"You okay, man?" Eddie asks from next to him on the floor.
Steve doesn't take his eyes off Nancy, who's moved on to playing with Robin’s hand instead. "I’m fine."
"You don't look it."
Steve clenches his jaw. Unclenches it. Breathes again. "Can you just - will you - could you just make sure Nancy doesn't have any more for a little while? Make sure she doesn't go in the kitchen, or hide the drinks from her or something?"
He can see, out of the corner of his eye, the confused look Eddie gives him. "It’s your house, dude. what you say goes."
“I know," Steve says. He watches Nancy slowly sit up and feels his stomach drop. "Just - please, can you?"
Eddie doesn't respond for a moment, and Steve starts getting himself together enough to stand.
But then Eddie puts a hand on his shoulder and stands up. "Sure thing, dude."
Steve watches as Eddie makes his way to the kitchen before Nancy even stands up.
And he wonders, though it's not his place, why Eddie only had one beer if he's got such a reputation for being a stoner. Steve remembers that when he used to smoke, weed hit him a little harder than all those beers he shotgunned back in high school.
Eddie comes back from the kitchen with a smile on his face, though Steve can tell it's a little tense.
"All done," Eddie whispers, sitting back down next to Steve. "Hid the vodka behind the fridge, the wine under the table, and the beer in the top cabinets where she can't reach."
"Thanks," Steve says. He’s still watching her, watching her come back with a smile still on her face and no cup in hand.
Finally, he feels like he can breathe.
"Haven’t had to do that in a long time," Eddie continues.
For the first time, Steve looks at him. "Do what?"
"Hide booze," Eddie says with a shrug. "It’s a good thing the good hiding spots are pretty much universal across houses."
Steve doesn't know what to think of that. He never did that, not even when his mom started having wine before noon.
He wasn't brave enough to risk that. Still isn't, it seems.
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