#fermented drinks

[glitter-and-be-gay]

✨Pine and citrus fermented soda experiment✨

[foodresearchlab]

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[thewellbeingnook]

How To Make Bosnian Probiotic-Rich Juniper Berry Tea: Smreka

[zaboun64]

Champagne des Fées

©️isabelle buffet

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

good news: op gets unblocked. bad news: op keeps fighting with horny hunters (previous post here)

[context: op is a shop keeper livestreaming on douyin and selling laser engraved key chain to fandoms. viewers are sending words they want to customize to op. op will read them as a promo. no obscene or sexually suggestive content is allowed or the livestream will be blocked by douyin. so op is telling everyone not to mess around by sending sensitive sentences. and then]

[allium-girl]

Pine Needle Soda: Fermentation for Beginners

[dustbar]

So dust who has the highest alcohol tolerance and who has the lowest?

i HAD to answer this very quickly (this is only canon in bs !)

[boaduvet]

Wags but we also drive 💍🏎️ pt. 6/? + Bonus text

[orb-the-watchman]

From a Discord conversation. Open discussion

[briarpatch-kids]

I also made tepache out of the pineapple skin and core hell yeah.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

GhostGaz Week - over consumption // sun burn

CW: Brits trying Mexican cuisine without knowing what it is (not fraught), accidental alcohol consumption, sun burn,

@ghostgazweek

Simon had to admit, this whole private beach situation was a lot more enjoyable than he’d expected. When Alejandro and Rudy had suggested a quick flight from Monterrey to Puerto Vallarta before heading back across the pond, he’d been… skeptical. A beach is a beach, sand is sand, and the UK has both. Why fly the opposite direction of from home to sweat in the sand surrounded by civilians? He’d already spent three weeks in joint training sweating in the sand with people he generally liked, and now he just wants to rest.

Well, hell, he’s resting now. He’s reclined on some kind of couch bed on the roof of the villa, hiding from the sun under an awning and letting the heat leach every bit of tension from his body. From here, he can barely hear Soap whooping down by the water. Price is somewhere in town, chasing a Canadian skirt he met at a bar yesterday. And Kyle is… somewhere.

As though summoned, the man appears at the top of the stairs with two of the largest, most vibrantly yellow beverages Simon’s ever seen and a plastic bag hanging from his arm.

“The fuck is tha’?” Simon asks around a yawn. He only sort of sits up to squint as Kyle offers him one of the fishbowls. He sips without waiting for an answer. Citrus and something else, ice cold and refreshing.

“Mechanica something,” Kyle answers, taking a gulp of his own and placing the plastic bag on the table. “Lady at the market was selling jugs of it. Another lady was selling some fermented drink, said they’re good together. These,” he gestures to the bag, which Simon realizes is full to bursting with something fried and delicious smelling, “are molotes, and I got three of every kind they had.”

“Soap’s down at the beach,” Simon reports.

“He’ll come have some or he’ll have to find his own,” Kyle says, taking another gulp of mechanica something. He grabs a pocket of fried dough and chomps into it with a groan. “This one’s cheese. The locals recommended the... see-sos? I don’t know what that is. But there’s chicken, pork, shrimp and mushroom ones, too.”

Simon swipes one, inspects it for a moment, and takes a bite. Spice bursts across his tongue, tasty and just the littlest bit painful. It’s perfect.

Six molotes and a quarter gallon of drink later, Simon realizes that he probably should have slowed down. His belly is pleasantly overfull, but his head is swimming. Kyle, somehow still eating, is swaying in his seat, just a bit. Or maybe that’s Simon.

“’Ey,” he calls, “C’mere.”

Kyle grins, finishes the last swig of his drink, and comes over to flop next to Simon on the couch bed. He drops a kiss on the point of Simon’s shoulder. “Fuck. That was good.”

The burst of pleasure that’s always there when Kyle is casually affectionate feels especially nice this afternoon. Simon kisses his temple with a hum, then meets Kyle's lips when he turns into the contact.

Kyle's lips are warm and the slightest bit greasy from the fried dough. He tastes like citrus, mostly. He doesn't resist as Simon tows him down to the cushions, lets himself be drawn on top to settle in to make out like teenagers.

Except then Simon has to break away and turn his head for a jaw-cracking yawn. He flicks the sleeve of Kyle’s shirt at his snicker. Something about the sun keeps knocking him out, which the team finds endlessly amusing. Simon himself would find it mildly annoying, but he keeps waking up from the best nap of his life every six hours. He snuggles down into his little shaded spot and lets sleep take him again.

He’s a bit stiff, fuzzy headed, and cotton mouthed when he wakes up next. Kyle’s face down next to him, shirtless and snoring. Simon admires the slope of his back in the light of the setting sun for a moment before looking for what woke him up. Price and Soap have apparently joined them, and are pouring shots.

“G’mornin’, bella durmiente,” Soap says with a grin.

Simon grunts something and sits up. Or… he tries, but his head starts spinning so he flops back into the pillows.

“I put a bottle of water by your head,” Price says, arching a judgmental eyebrow. “Not sure what possessed you two to drink that much mezcal at once.”

“Tha’ the fermen’ed thing Kyle brough’?” Simon fishes the ice cold bottle from in the pillows and makes himself sit up to swallow half of it down.

“The pulque? That’s not what you two drank. You drank a quarter bottle of straight mezcal.”

“Wha’s tha’?”

“Tequila.”

“Oh.” That explains a lot. Simon pushes himself up to one elbow, blinks until his eyes refocus. He places a hand on Kyle’s back and has a moment to wonder at how hot his skin is before the man twitches, yelps, arches away, and yelps again.

“Fuck, ow, fuck!”

Soap snickers for the next half hour while Simon smooths frosty aloe vera over Kyle’s neck, shoulders and back. The sunburn isn’t anywhere as bad as if any of the rest of them had laid in the sun for three hours, but Kyle whines like a baby the whole time. He also shares his coconut water with Simon, though, so that’s alright.

[m3tr0n0m333]

I think if Tails ever drinks alcohol when he's older, he'd drink the ones that taste like juice and that ONLY !!!

Also as much as I love Shadow holding traits that contrast to his appearence, he would drink alcohol normally. My guy eats straight up COFFEE BEANS he'd like the strong/bitter taste of alcohol I'd think.

[scrawnytreedemon]

Decided to nail down my design for this dingus, lol. I think he's face turned out a bit more robust in that 3/4ths view than I intended, but hey! It gets the idea across.

I'm really proud of this :}

A humble doodlesheet beneath the cut [minor alcohol cw]:

Life is hard as an 18-yro ex-hero apocalypse refugee trying to rent his wares. No friends but your bird(?) and this child you pay rent to.

These games are something else.

Now, onto the rambling proper:

I wanted to further the contrast between Link and Ravio even further. I gave Ravio a stockier frame(what else do I do with robed characters?) and made him a few years older. He looks stronger, sturdier.

And yet, he's actually quite sickly. His dark skin is pale and blotchy, with circles under his eyes. He suffers from malnutrition in the wake of Lorule's ongoing famine, and as such, despite his formidible strength, is saddled with frequent fatigue. That man sees shrimp colours when he stands up. He is a worn, weary, wary thing.

Regarding his garb, I took a page out of Yuga's book when it came to the undergarments you can see peeking from beneath the robe, as well as the shape of the boots. Lorulian fashion, baby! The world may be ending, but at least we have our colourful stripes and pointy shoes.

Also pulled minor inspiration from the Happy Mask Salesman, what with the gold ornamentation(especially near the wrists and throat) on his own purple garb. While not nearly as cumbersome, I gave Ravio some sacks, pouches and pockets. He's a travelling merchant! Where else is he gonna keep his stuff?

May or may not give Ravio a cooler skintone, but I don't want to lose the contrast against the purple.

I could probably go on and on, but I'll leave it here <3 Hope he brings you Joy.

[allium-girl]

Peach Mead Recipe with Summer Roses and Elderflowers