#one of my great loves in life has been taken away! Flavor! delicious food! Where Is She! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

melanielocke · 3 years

Text

A surprise baby - part 2

After spending the night with Augustus Pounceby and being humiliated when he proposes to someone else, Eugenia Lightwood finds herself pregnant outside of wedlock. She doesn’t want to lose her child, but doesn’t know how to keep her situation hidden anymore, nor does she have any intention of marrying Augustus, or any man at that. Instead, she’s fallen in love with Kamala Joshi.

CW: Pregnancy

AO3

Part 1

Taglist: @foxglove-airmid @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1

‘I hope you don’t like Charles too much,’ Kamala said. ‘As Alastair and I are having our weekly Charles Fairchild is an ass meeting and you’ve been invited to join.’

Eugenia would have considered Charles a friend once, but that was a long time ago. She’d thought once, that he was a more mature and sensible than his younger brother and had hoped he could talk some sense into the Merry Thieves. They certainly didn’t listen to her, and were the most reckless fools she’d ever encountered in her life.

But that was before Charles had abandoned Kamala in such a terrible way though. Who left their fiancée when they were sick? Kamala, it turned out, was glad to have dodged that bullet in the end. Eugenia guessed she felt the same way about Augustus now. She knew Kamala preferred women, and Eugenia began to suspect that she might not have a preference at all, and was in love with Kamala now.

It had been a few weeks since telling her parents and Thomas about her pregnancy. It had been decided Eugenia would have to travel for some time, but she wasn’t yet sure where and with who. With everything going on, Thomas preferred to stay in London with his friends.

‘Would it be possible to add Augustus Pounceby?’ Eugenia asked. ‘I mean, make it a weekly Charles Fairchild and Augustus Pounceby are both an ass meeting.’

‘Augustus Pounceby ís an ass,’ Alastair agreed. ‘He and I went to school together. He was the worst.’

Eugenia knew that at some point during his school years, Alastair had been awful as well. But since befriending him recently, he’d explained some of it and Eugenia could sympathize. The image of schoolboy Thomas trailing behind him was hilarious, especially now that she knew Thomas was deeply in love with Alastair. But it was also because Thomas had always noticed something was not right with Alastair, that he was hurting. Her little brother had always been awfully sensitive to other people’s moods, Eugenia couldn’t keep a thing from him. From Thomas’ stories, Alastair had grown and changed a lot since their school days, and Eugenia was glad for it because now she had two amazing friends she could hate on Augustus with.

She didn’t think anyone had ever treated Augustus badly, he simply believed he was better than everyone else and therefore deserved more. Even when Eugenia had been close to him, he’d always acted very entitled.

‘He is awful,’ Kamala agreed. ‘And racist. I agree we can hate on Augustus as well as Charles here. Who wants to share their feelings first?’

The afternoon was fun, and Eugenia felt welcomed into the group. Alastair and Kamala had been friends for a little longer, although that had taken a lot of effort on Kamala’s part. The problem was, a man and a woman spending time together was suspicious, and therefore there always had to be a third party present. At first that had been Grace, but she mostly seemed bored, and now her engagement with Charles was broken and Grace was gone… somewhere. Kamala was still looking into the whole thing as she had not given up on Grace, but Eugenia had no clue what had happened. Kamala and Alastair were glad to have Eugenia’s company, because even if the Bridgestocks did not approve of Alastair, at least they could be sure no one was ruining their daughter.

Alastair at some point decided to make fun of Charles’ posh accent, and Eugenia had to admit his imitation was on point.

‘I am thinking of traveling to India,’ Kamala said. ‘My parents… I know they love me, but they took me away from everything I know and pretend I was born here. I remember so little from India, I barely speak the language anymore. But I had a past there. And I’ve been trying to replicate the food my mom used to cook for me, but I never quite got it right.’

Eugenia had no idea what it was like, to be so disconnected from her culture and her homeland. Alastair knew a bit better. He still had his mother, but he hadn’t been in Persia for a long time and was estranged from his family. Eugenia suspected it was part of why Kamala and Alastair were so taken with each other, they both knew what it was like to live in England as someone who wasn’t white and who was disconnected from their homeland.

‘I’ll help you if you want to make another attempt at replicating your mother’s cooking,’ Alastair offered.

In the end when it was nearing dinner time, the three of them did go into the kitchen. Alastair apparently had learnt how to cook from their cook, Risa and mostly knew how to cook Persian food. Kamala knew a little about cooking, but mostly tried to go by smells she remembered from her childhood and vegetables she remembered had been in there.

Eugenia decided it was best for everyone involved if she sat back and watched. Tommy was the cook in the family. And her mother, of course, who had been a servant once. Eugenia, on the other hand, had been forbidden from entering the kitchen at home, and only helped with cutting up the vegetables here and there. Even she couldn’t mess that up, and if she ended up cutting herself, healing runes could be applied.

Bridget, the institute’s cook, was not too happy about them using the kitchen as a pastime, and released some very unsavory Irish curse words about the mess they were sure to make. Eugenia recognized the words, her mother was Irish too and she’d learnt the language, even if she had always struggled with learning languages. She responded in Irish, explaining what they were doing here as best as she could. For good measure she promised she would clean up.

‘I didn’t realize you spoke Irish,’ Kamala said.

‘I’m not great at languages, but I learnt Irish and Spanish from a young age,’ Eugenia said. ‘My mother is Irish and my father loves speaking Spanish at home. Tommy is better at languages though, he also speaks Welsh and Persian.’

Alastair stared at her, his eyes wide. ‘Thomas speaks Persian?’

‘He’s been studying Persian with Lucie,’ Eugenia said. ‘Lucie wanted to learn because she thought she should be able to speak her parabatai’s mother tongue. Thomas helped her because he’s so good with languages.’

Eugenia suspected his feelings for Alastair also played a role in his determination to learn the language. It was sweet, to learn someone’s language for them.

‘Charles never cared much about my language,’ Alastair said. ‘Nor what I said when I spoke it. I understand not everyone could learn, it’s not easy for an English speaker. But Thomas, he really speaks it?’

Eugenia imagined that had to be hurtful. She would love to learn Kamala’s language for her, even if she would never get any good at it. Still, it was the effort that counted, right? At least she hoped so.

‘He does read Persian poetry, so I imagine he grasps it. Don’t pin me down on it though, I don’t know how good he is. But he excels at languages and has been studying for several years now. He also helped James with learning for Cordelia. I was under the impression he speaks it quite well, doesn’t he?’

Alastair snorted. ‘I think he understand enough, but honestly his accent is embarrassing.’

Soon enough, the kitchen began to smell delicious. Kamala admitted what she’d made wasn’t quite what she remembered from home, but it was a better attempt than the last. Eugenia had had all sorts of cravings lately, not to mention a sensitivity to smells. She could barely stomach meat anymore, but she craved sweets at the most opportune moments.

Kamala and Alastair had made a vegetable dish with some rice and lots of spices, and the smell had to be the most amazing thing she’d smelt in a while. English food tended to be rather bland, favoring the flavor of meat and gravy which Eugenia currently couldn’t stomach. This was much better, and once they could eat, she made sure everything was finished even if Kamala and Alastair had cooked way too much for three.

‘Do they not feed you at home?’ Alastair asked when she finished her third plate. ‘Is it because Thomas eats everything? He must have gotten so ridiculously tall somehow.’

Eugenia snorted. Thomas was like a bottomless pit when it came to food, she suspected he was always hungry.

‘This is very good food,’ Eugenia said. ‘And I was very hungry.’ She contemplated what to say next for moment. Telling people about a pregnancy was a huge risk, but Alastair and Kamala were her friends. Apart from her parents and Thomas, they were the people she trusted more than anything. ‘I’m also eating for two people.’

Alright, at the moment she was eating for three people, but she blamed that on pregnancy cravings.

Alastair stared at her in confusion, Kamala in shock, her hand over her mouth.

‘You’re having a baby?’ Kamala whispered.

‘You can’t tell anyone,’ Eugenia said. ‘My parents and Tommy know, and now you, but beyond that no one can know. We’re still figuring out what to do. But as my closest friends, I thought you should know too. I don’t think I’d be able to hide it for much longer anyway.’

‘You could come to India with me,’ Kamala said. ‘I can hardly travel as a woman alone, and Alastair cannot leave his mother while she is about to give birth. We could return when you are about to give birth, make sure no one sees you until the baby is born, and the pretend we found the baby and don’t know whose it is except that they’re shadowhunters.’

Eugenia had to admit that plan was sound. She didn’t know anyone in India, no one who could spread the word she’d gotten pregnant out of wedlock. She could pretend she had a husband somewhere, but was traveling with her dear friend Kamala who wanted to reconnect with her home country.

‘Will your parents approve?’ Eugenia asked.

Kamala waved with her hand. ‘Oh, probably not. They do not approve of people calling me Kamala rather than Ariadne, or me spending time with Alastair, who they think is very improper company.’

Alastair shrugged. ‘They aren’t wrong.’

‘But I’m done seeking their approval,’ Kamala added. ‘I’m thinking of moving out. When I agreed to marry Charles, I had no one to fall back on, no support, only the very conditional love of my parents. But now that’s changed. Living as a woman alone would be unproper. But if you were to join me, dear Eugenia…. No one would question a thing.’

Would Kamala feel for her, as Eugenia did for her? She knew Kamala had recently broken things off with Anna, perhaps it was too soon. Eugenia loved her cousin, of course, but found it hard to accept that she treated her lovers as Augustus had treated Eugenia.

‘Would you help me care for the baby?’ Eugenia asked.

She knew reputation wise it was probably best to let someone adopt her child, but she didn’t want to. Eugenia did want to be a mother, and she didn’t want to wait around for another man who was only going to treat her badly.

‘Of course!’ Kamala exclaimed. ‘I’ve always wanted to be a mother, but after Charles I thought it wouldn’t happen. And I’ve had plenty of practice with little Alexander, I know how to take care of a child. And of course, Alastair will have plenty of experience soon enough.’

‘I’ll help you wherever I can,’ Alastair said. ‘And after several months of shopping for baby things with Cordelia, I know the best stores. Do you have any ideas for baby names?’

Eugenia had to admit she hadn’t thought about that yet. ‘If it’s a girl, her middle name will be Barbara,’ she said. ‘Beyond that, I have no clue. But we have at least four more months to figure it out.’

Alastair looked amused. ‘That is sweet. I am sorry about your sister.’

‘She would have loved the baby, I’m sure of it,’ Eugenia said.

‘Cordelia and I have been arguing about baby names ever since she found out mâmân was expecting.’

‘What did you come up with?’ Eugenia asked.

‘Rostam if it’s a boy. Shadi if it’s a girl. We both agreed the baby should have a Persian name, and with Father gone he won’t be able to object.’

‘Those are both lovely names,’ Kamala said.

‘I’m sorry about your father,’ Eugenia added. She didn’t think she’d offered him condolences yet. The funeral was days away now.

‘Don’t be,’ Alastair said. ‘He was… not a good father.’

She remembered Elias’ outburst at Cordelia’s wedding, how Alastair and James had dragged him off. Uncle Will and uncle Gabriel had attempted to distract people, but how much did that do, when everyone still left Sona and Alastair with him? She regretted not befriending Alastair sooner. She hadn’t known him all that well, honestly, not until he’d come to the sanctuary that day when Thomas had been arrested and she found out he’d been keeping her brother safe in secret.

‘Would you like to come take tea with me this week?’ Eugenia asked. ‘Both of you.’

Alastair hesitated. ‘With your parents? And your brother?’

Eugenia waved her hand impatiently. ‘Oh they’ll adore you. And they already know about those rumors, they’re not upset about stupid things you did when you were fifteen.’

Alastair didn’t say anything, and Eugenia wondered if he believed her. ‘I’m serious. My parents are very kind and forgiving. And they’re grateful you kept Tommy safe.’

‘I’m not sure it would be good for me to be around Thomas,’ Alastair said.

‘Because you still have feelings for him?’ Kamala asked.

‘Unfortunately, yes,’ Alastair said. ‘It is my curse, apparently, to always want what I can’t have.’

Eugenia rolled her eyes. ‘Always so dramatic, Alastair. Just ask my brother to go out for dinner with you. Tommy is old enough to choose for himself what he wants.’

#Eugenia Lightwood #Kamala Joshi #Ariadne Bridgestock #Alastair Carstairs #Joshwood #fanfiction #the last hours #tlh

19 notes · View notes

ohsugar-honey-iced-tea · 3 years

Text

A drunken mess pt. 1

Ina has had too much to drink. Welcome to a very drunk Ina! I had fun writing her like this, and I hope you will like it too. It's a little short, but I did my best.

Enjoy!

@kulaykape @citybornchick @thedaft1 @kwekwek @astrangeandunusualgirl @domakir @dopeyouth

-------------------------------------------------------

Ina and Bella were sitting in their livingroom together. Bella couldn't even look at Ina, she was way too mad at her for that. "Sweetheart, come on, please talk to me" but she was greeted with an angry glare. Ina had been keeping Bella awake all night, because it might have been possible that she had a few too much drinks. And you couldn't exactly call it 'tipsy', no, she was DRUNK. Bella had never seen Ina drunk before, and man did she wish she hadn't last night.

"Come on babe... what all happened last night that made you so upset? I mean it couldn't have been that bad, right?"

That got Bella's attention.

"Well, where do you want to start? Crying over seatbelts, worrying about yout feet or keeping me up all night? Let me tell you exactly what happened"

...

It was almost 1am when Ina and Bella came home. They had game night over at Lillians place. Appearantely it's tradition for Ina and Lillian to do a sort of drinking game together. Bella had a long day of classes tomorrow, so she passed. However, it was Ina'a day off tomorrow, so she and Lillian started playing. Lillian was winning the game, and only had to take tree shots. Ina, however, took so many shots that Bella lost count.

When Bella sat Ina down in the car, she was unsurprisingly happy. For some reason, she kept telling Bella about how great she found the bouncy balls in her childhood, and then all of the sudden started crying.

"What's wrong, Ina?"

*sniff* "I-I just realised....."

"What?"

".....MY FAVORITE BOUNCY BALL WAS LOST IN A TERRIBLE ACCIDENT. I ACCIDENTELY DROPPED IT OUT OF THE CAR WINDOW WHILE SHOWING IT THE WORLD AND MY PARENTS DIDN'T EVEN STOP TO GRAB IT"

*starts ugly crying while not even being in the car for 4 minutes*

'Oh, this will be a long, long night' Bella thought, while preparing herself for what would happen when they got home.

...

When they finally arrived home, Bella stepped out of the car, but found Ina struggling with the seatbelt.

"BABE HELP, THERE IS A BLACK SNAKE TRYING TO KEEP ME HERE FOR EVER-"

"Babe, that's just your seatbelt--"

"I'M TOO YOUNG TO GET KILLED BY A SNAKE" *starts crying again* "okay, let's get you out of here." Bella helps Ina get out of the car, and Ina supports herself on her while trying to get to the door. By this time, Ina's vision was blurry.

"BABE HELP, THERE ARE TREE DOORS, WHAT IF ITS A TRAP AND I WALK IN THE WRONG DOOR AND I'LL BE FORCED TO MAKE PUPPITS OUT OF POTATOES FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE?"

"What are you talking about?? Just follow me, and try to be quiet, it's almost 1.30!"

"I AM QUIET' *puts finger on her lips* "SHHHHHHHHHHH" "...babe, next time I could go for fewer saliva" she said as she wiped her face clean.

Dexter woke up from the loud sounds coming from Ina, and hid himself behind the table from her.

Bella managed to open the door, and made Ina sit down on the couch. "Oh my.... this sure is a lovely couch" Ina said, as she started sitting on it in a lot of stupid positions. She managed to get her legs pointing to the ground, arms over her head and head upside down, so she basically sat 180° wrong on the couch.

"Babe, what on earth are you doing?"

"Just thinking..... DO YOU REMEMBER SCAR FROM THE LION KING? HE WAS VERY MISUNDERSTOOD"

"Ina, let's sit up straight first, and then-"

But Bella was interrupted by Ina. She stood up, grabbed a pear from the fruitbowl to use as a microphone, and started singing.

"BE PREPARED FOR THE DEATH OF THE KING! BE PREPARED, BE PREPAAAA- OOF!!!"

She accidentely bumped into the dining table, and falling backwards. She fell on her back, before Bella. She could only see Bella's feet before her eyes.

".....BABE HELP, MY FEET FELL OF!"

"Those are my feet, you idiot!"

"THEN WHY DO YOU HAVE FOUR FEET?"

"Babe, there are only 2-"

"MY GIRLFRIEND IS TURNING INTO A SPIDER! HOW CAN I EVER KISS AND LOVE YOU NOW"

Tears started to form in Ina's eyes again.

".....okay we need to sober you up, now! How about some coffee and crackers?"

"......crackers?" Ina got an annoyed look in her eyes "We're in the middle of a serious problem and your solution is crackers?"

"Not just crackers..." she takes a bag of animal crackers out of the food cabinet. "Animal crackers!!"

Ina shot up from the floor, eyes wide at the bag of animal crackers and started to smile. "ANIMAL CRACKERSSSSSS" she took the bag, but accidentely dropped it. "NOOO!! YOU DROPPED THEM!! NOW THE ANIMALS WILL BE PARALISED FOREVER!" Bella started to see tears in Ina's eyes again, and quickly got the bag off the ground and got her some. "Here, and drink some coffee." "Thanks, pal!" Bella facepalmed herself, wishing she were in bed.

...

"Okay, Ina. It's 3.20. It's not funny anymore, we're going to bed." Dexter gave Bella a thankful look, as he started walking towards his pillow, ready to snuggle up with his squeaky pear. However, Ina had other plans. "Bella, I am your proffesol- proffersena- pruffen--- I TEACH YOU! SO YOU SHALL LISTEN TO ME!" Ina got a serious look on her face. "Bella..... I. Am. Your. Father" and she shook her arms as if she was holding a lightsaber. "Ina no! It's no time to act like Darth Vader!" "Whyy do all the villains wear masks? It's so strange...." oh no. Bella could see where this was going. Ina placed her right hand on the right side of her face, and started to sing. "LOVEEE MEEEEE.... THAT'S ALL I ASK OF... NOOOOOO DO NOT LOOK AT MY FACE!" At this point, Bella wasn't sure if she wanted to scream or laugh.

...

"BABE REMEMBER ALF? HE WAS FROM MELMAC AND ATE CATS! HE WAS SO COOL!"

"Ina, that was popular decades ago! I'm not going to talk to you about Alf when it's 4.30 in the morning!"

"I'M BATMAAAANNN-" Ina said in a deep voice.

"THAT'S IT WE'RE GOING TO BED NOW"

...

After Bella finally got Ina into bed, she was hopeful that she had fallen asleep. But unfortunately, she wasn't that lucky.

"Do you know what's a funny word?" Ina said excitedly.

Bella groaned. "What?"

"GEODE! LIKE FROM GEOGRAPHY!"

"Ina, please, just close your-"

"GEEEEEODE.....GEE..ODE...GE! ode..."

Ina tapped Bella on her shoulder

"Bella, Bella! GEODE! ISN'T THIS JUST WONDERFUL? GEOMETRY WAS SO UNDERRATED, IT MUST HAVE BEEN BULLIED BY MATHS AND BIOLOGY. IT HAD A RELATIONSHIP WITH SCIENCE, BUT SCIENCE FELL IN LOVE WITH PHYSICS AND THEY RAN AWAY TOGETHER"

"INA IT'S ALMOST 5 AM! PLEASE JUST GO TO SLEEP"

She heard Ina sniffle.

".....do you still love me?"

"Of course I do. With every inch of my body. But for now I just want to sleep"

Ina started poking Bella's face.

"Ooooohhhh look at this face. Look at those. I loveeeeee this face"

She started biting her face

"INA STOP DON'T BITE ME"

"BUT YOU'RE DELICIOUS"

"JUST GO TO SLEEP, INA"

...

When it was 5.45, Ina finally went to sleep. Bella got 1 and a half hour of sleep, not being able to sleep any more because of Ina's snoring. Normally she didn't snore, but she did if she was this drunk. So, she went to their couch and joined Dexter in the livingroom. He looked at her with sad eyes when he heard Ina's snores coming out of the bedroom.

"I'm sorry, buddy. Come here"

And with that, Dexter joined her on the couch and they tried to get a little bit of sleep.

...

After hearing from Bella how she was last night, she hid her face in her hands. "Bella, I'm sorry-" "you made Dexter cranky! Just look at the poor thing!" Ina looked over at Dexter, and he was looking very angry at her. "I'm not mad, I just need a moment now" and with that, she dissapeared in the bedroom.

Ina looked at the floor, frowning. The she stood up, got some pain killers, and started walking towards Dexter.

"Come on, Dex... you can't be that mad at me too, right?" But Dexter walked away from her. 'Well, Kingsley, you know what they say. Dissapoint a dog... and you are a pathetic loser' she thought to herself. She needed to make it up to Bella. So she grabbed her wallet and keys, and went out to buy a few things for Bella.

...

A few hours later, Bella came out of the livingroom with Dexter walking besides her, after they both have taken a much needed nap.

"Ina? Where are you?"

Ina appeared, and she had a big teddy bear with a heart that said 'I love you beary much' and a box of chocolates in one hand, and a bag ful of dog treats in the other hand.

"Hello, everyone. I apologise for how I've been acting last night. I've had too much to drink, and it made me show unacceptable behaviour. I'm sorry." She said this, and had the biggest pout on her face.

".....how can I stay annoyed with you when you are this cute? Come here."

Bella openee her arms, and Ina gladly went to her. She picked Dexter up and gave him a kiss on his nose.

"I do hope you can forgive me, buddy"

Dexter looked a long time at Ina, but gave her a lick on her cheek after a while. Ina and Bella started to chuckle.

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

Together, they enjoyed a happy and cuddly day. Ina made Bella promise to stop her from drinking this much next time.

"You are a big girl, I'm sure you can handle yourself."

"Well, appearantely not, otherwise my hangover wouldn't be this bad."

"Another thing that might help is pearjuice, they say the sweet flavors take the pain away" Bella said, and gave her a bottle of pearjuice."

"Well, you know what they say" Ina said. "A pear a day keeps the hangover away"

"How's that working for you now?"

"....no comment"

The end

#ina x mc #ina kingsley #choices #fluff

30 notes · View notes

homeformyheart · 3 years

Text

expectations - beckett harrington x f!mc (te)

author’s note: this fic was a request from tanu after the brief scene i wrote in my other beckett x f!mc fic, the sunshine of life.

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. series/pairing: the elementalists – beckett harrington x f!mc (celeste russell) rating/warnings: 13+; family tension, fluff word count: 2.4k based on/prompt: request from @robintora summary: celeste meets beckett’s parents and it goes about as well as expected.

expectations

celeste cradled her throbbing toe as she sat on the bed with beckett standing in front of her. “why wouldn’t you give me more of a heads up? i have nothing to wear and i have to get a gift! i can’t show up empty-handed!”

beckett rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “it’s not that big of a deal, is it?” celeste gave him a pointed look. “okay, i kind of… forgot.”

“how do you forget about your parents wanting to have dinner with me?!” celeste’s eyes widened in disbelief. as oblivious as her boyfriend could be sometimes, he usually wasn’t this dense.

beckett let out a long sigh. “well, you know how i struggle with their expectations and there’s lot of pressure now that we’re a year away from graduating to make sure i pick the right career.”

celeste lowered her foot and crossed her arms over her chest. when she finally spoke, her voice shook with vulnerability. “and i’m not exactly someone who would meet their expectations, right?”

“i’ve never really had a girlfriend before, so i can’t say for sure,” beckett said thoughtfully. he glanced down and noticing celeste’s crestfallen expression, crouched down to meet her at eye level. “but that doesn’t mean i wouldn’t be proud to introduce you to them as my girlfriend. i love you so much, celeste.”

she tried to smile to reassure him. “i love you too, beckett. i just… i don’t really know the attuned world very well but it seems like your family name and reputation is really important to your parents. and for all they know, i may as well be attuneless. i can’t exactly tell them i’m half-source.”

beckett sat next to her on the bed and wrapped his arm around her waist. celeste leaned into his embrace, laying her head on his shoulder so her nose so she was up against his neck. she breathed in his comforting scent.

“you are the most amazing and impressive person i’ve ever met. they know that you mean a lot to me. they just want to get to know you,” beckett said, pulling back slightly to kiss her hair.

“will katrina be there?” celeste asked hopefully. having a friendly face in the room would definitely make things less daunting.

“i’m not sure actually. last i heard she was somewhere in the amazon doing research,” beckett said.

celeste sighed and stood up. “since i don’t have much time to get ready, help me figure out what to wear that’s going to offend your parents the least.”

beckett followed her to the closet and wrapped his arms around her from behind. he bent down and kissed her cheek. “that dress i bought for you when we got lunch with katrina last year should be more than fine. you look radiant in pretty much anything.”

“yeah, yeah, flattery will get you everywhere, beckett harrington. i’m still annoyed you didn’t tell me until last minute.”

beckett peppered her face and neck with kisses in response until she shooed him away so she could change into the outfit in peace. when she emerged from the closet dressed in the yellow dress and blue coat he bought her a year ago, his eyes lit up and traced the way the outfit curved around her body perfectly.

celeste ran an air spell down the coat and dress to remove any wrinkles before looking up at beckett. “this is the best i’m going to be able to do on short notice. what do you think?”

he put a hand on her waist and pulled her toward him. she stumbled forward and he steadied her with his other hand, leaning in to capture her lips into a steamy kiss. celeste felt warm when they broke apart, beckett resting his forehead against hers. “you make me wish we could be late,” he murmured softly. “you are so beautiful.”

celeste nuzzled his nose with hers. “flatterer. now let’s get going. i really don’t need to get on your parents’ bad side by being late.”

beckett had already manipulated the portal in her dorm room to take them directly to the harrington estate. the arrived in a matter of seconds, which was certainly not enough time to mentally prepare for the evening ahead. she would never admit this out loud to her friends, mostly because they wouldn’t be able to relate, but she wished they had traveled the attuneless way. it would’ve taken infinitely longer, but at least it would have bought her some time to prepare.

celeste stared up at the large, mahogany doors with the harrington family crest etched at the top and swallowed nervously. she fiddled with the buttons on her coat and tried to take slow, deep breaths. beckett slid his hands into hers and squeezed it gently before directing a metal spell with his other hand toward the door. celeste’s eyes widened as she noticed the metal inside the door turn and creak internally before opening slowly to let them in.

he took her coat and handed it to a servant before taking her hand and leading her down the long hallway. they passed what looked like a foyer, a sitting room, a study, another sitting room, or maybe it was a parlor, and a stairwell before celeste realized that she would be utterly lost in a place like this if she were alone. why anyone would need this many sitting rooms was beyond her.

when they finally arrived at the dining room, she noticed that his parents were already seated. mr. harrington appeared just as imposing as she’d imagined, with hair as dark as katrina’s except for streaks of silver running through it. her gaze shifted to his right, where beckett’s mother was sitting with her hands delicately tucked under her chin, eyes not-so-subtly inspecting celeste from head-to-toe. her shoulder-length brown hair was curled and celeste noticed that beckett must’ve inherited her cheekbones.

“ah, they’re finally here. come join us, children,” mrs. harrington said, her tone friendly but without any real warmth.

celeste took a deep breath and followed beckett, taking care to avoid eye contact with his parents as he pulled out her chair for her before settling comfortably to his father’s left. she felt a little relieved that she wasn’t sitting directly across from either parent but made sure to keep a smile on her face. regardless of whatever she felt inside, she needed to remember to smile through it all.

“hi, i’m celeste. it’s very nice to finally meet you, mr. and mrs. harrington,” celeste said, making an effort to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

“it’s very nice to meet you too, my dear. and you can call me alice. i found it odd that our beckett has been dating you for over a year and yet this is the first time we’ve actually gotten to meet you,” mrs. harrington replied; her gaze, however, was focused on beckett.

beckett cleared his throat. “we’ve been busy, mother. with school, internships, and celeste is on the thief team as well.”

“well, at least you seem well-rounded, miss russell. i will say it’s been great to see penderghast as back-to-back thief champions. and you’re a sun-att, correct?” mr. harrington asked. as far as she could tell, he was genuinely curious.

“yes, that’s correct. my secondary attunement is metal. both definitely come in handy in the thief arena,” she said cheerfully, glad to have some common ground with at least one parent.

his mother let out a soft hum before turning her attention to the food that had arrived. celeste stared at what she presumed was a salad in front of her but wasn’t sure given the mix of strange looking ingredients that she hadn’t seen before.

“what’s wrong, dear? salad not to your liking?” alice asked.

celeste quickly grabbed her fork and held it over the plate. “no, it’s just, uh, there are a lot of ingredients i don’t recognize,” she said quickly before taking a delicate bite. she was actually pleasantly surprised at the bright flavor.

“that makes sense given your attuneless upbringing. although truthfully, most people in the attuned world wouldn’t have tried any of the food you’ll get to have tonight. we imported special ingredients from around the world.”

“oh, well, the quality is certainly unmatched. everything looks absolutely delicious,” celeste said as the servants brought out the next course.

while the food was good and unlike anything she’d had in the attuneless world, she didn’t think it was that special. and judging by the pink tips of beckett’s ears, he didn’t appreciate his father’s comments either.

the rest of the dinner went by relatively smoothly, with peppered bits of small talk here and there. most of the questions weren’t too intrusive, and she found it relatively easy to ignore the lightly condescending remarks sprinkled here and there. they were finishing up dessert when they finally got to the topic of what they were going to do after penderghast.

“i haven’t really decided yet. i think i’d probably like field research and working with magickal plants,” celeste answered honestly when they asked her what fields she might be interested in. she had given it some thought as she prepared to declare her major last year. working with plants would allow her to spend more time outdoors and with nature, which is where she felt most like herself.

alice let out a soft tsk of disapproval, barely audible over the sound of her setting her spoon back down on the table. celeste looked away and saw that mr. harrington was giving her a thoughtful look and she tucked her hands between her thighs to keep from squirming under his gaze.

“well, it’s not a very compelling field, but to each their own, i suppose. we have high hopes for beckett to live up to the harrington name, and i’m sure you understand your role in supporting him.”

celeste jaw fell open slightly. they weren’t seriously implying that she should be a trophy wife? “i think i understand where you’re coming from, mr. harrington, but with all due respect, beckett and i challenge and support each other to excel in each of our respective fields. i would hope that you’d prefer someone who can match your son in intelligence and drive and not someone who acts as arm candy.”

“arm candy? is that an attuneless phrase?” katrina’s voice broke through the tension in the dining room. “sorry i’m late, everyone! trying to arrange a portal out of the amazon last minute is not as easy as you’d think!”

“kitty kat! you made it after all,” mr. harrington said, his demeanor seeming to morph into that of a doting father as katrina stopped to give him a kiss on the cheek before making her way over to the seat next to her mother.

“of course, i wouldn’t miss a family dinner like this! i’m so glad we all get to spend time together, celeste is practically family after all!” katrina said, giving celeste a subtle wink.

“that seems a bit premature, darling, considering they’re not even out of college yet. plenty of time to find a proper match,” alice said, dabbing the corner of her lips with a napkin.

“she is by far one of the best students i had at penderghast last year. made it very difficult to decide who to nominate for the attuned magickae uirtus award,” katrina said matter-of-factly as she took a sip of her mother’s glass of wine, much to alice’s annoyance.

mr. harrington’s steely gaze shifted to beckett. “i presumed you would be a shoo-in for the award, beckett. but barely beating out someone who didn’t grow up with magick? i’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.”

“with all due respect, mr. harrington, beckett was able to stay on top of his studies while helping me and my friends protect penderghast from a rogue…” celeste’s eyes briefly met beckett’s. “…attuned thieves. the high attuned herself was very appreciative, and you should be very proud of your son.”

beckett cleared his throat before katrina or anyone else could respond. “celeste and i must be getting back, we do have exams to study for.”

mr. harrington gave beckett an understanding nod. “of course.” his gaze flitted over to celeste, who swallowed nervously. “it was nice to meet you, celeste.”

“thank you for the wonderful dinner and for having us. it was very nice to meet you as well,” she said clearly, hoping her voice conveyed the same grace and confidence as katrina’s.

they stood up and were making their way to the front door when they heard katrina’s footsteps speeding toward them.

celeste turned around just in time to catch katrina as she wrapped her arms around her in a huge hug. “don’t worry about those stuffy old busts. you’ve always got an ally in me, celeste. take care of bean,” she winked, before turning gracefully and heading back into the dining room.

once they were safely outside and out of earshot, celeste let out a long sigh. “i suppose that could’ve gone worse.”

beckett gave her a reassuring one-armed hug. “you did wonderfully. i know it’s not easy to deal with my parents, and you still handled them well while being yourself.”

“sure, because that’s what sounds reassuring right now – ‘your boyfriend’s parents may not approve of you but at least you were yourself!’” celeste retorted, rolling her eyes and pulling away from him.

beckett laced his fingers through hers and tugged their joined hands to pull her close. he leaned down to give her a kiss, “believe me, you did well given the circumstances. and i promise i’ll make it up to you.”

“good, because my mom is visiting next week and we have to get lunch with her,” celeste said cheekily, not even bothering to hide her grin.

beckett’s jaw dropped. “what? you can’t just drop that on me last minute! that’s not enough time to prepare! i’ll have to go to the library straight away to make sure i can engage in conversation – what was her thesis at penderghast?” he started walking faster down the sidewalk, half-dragging celeste with him.

celeste giggled and she sped up her pace to keep up with him, allowing him to tuck their joined hands in the pocket of his coat. now she just needed to remember to actually ask theia if she could make it to lunch next week.

* * * * * mentions: @robintora; @miss-smrxtiee; @eleanorbloom; @itsjustwinter; @mm2305;

#choices fic writers creations #reposting for new blog #the elementalists #my writing #not twc #beckett harrington #choices #pb choices #playchoices #beckett harrington x mc #choices fanfic #choices fanfics #playchoices fanfiction #choices te #my choices fanfics

28 notes · View notes

dear-mrs-otome · 5 years

Text

Feed a Cold - MLQC (Victor)

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice/Love and Producer Warnings: Slight spoilers for something heavily implied from Chapter 4 on. Summary: 2k words of purely self-indulgent ‘taking care of the sick’ fluff, sparked by some phone calls and dates. I’ve got requests to tackle but this wouldn’t leave me alone. @justine-the-guillotine I hope you enjoy!

She looked like hell.

He’d expected as much, from the moment Goldman had told him she was cancelling their meeting because she was home ill. He’d expected to see her looking wan and pale, but the dark smudges under her eyes and the haphazard hair that greeted him when she opened the door, the feverish pink stain that rode high on her cheeks, they all still made his heart do an odd sort of stutter-step. As if it had stumbled over its own feet.

“Victor.” She blinked blearily up at him, half-sagging against the open door listlessly in a faded oversized sweatshirt with some inane cartoon character on it and shorts that were doing their best impression of hotpants.

“That is my name, yes. Congratulations.” He hoped his words were brusque enough to cover the strain plucking at his voice.

She blinked, again, her eyes crinkling with confusion. “Why…why are you here?”

He sidestepped the question as easily as he dodged around her, letting himself into her apartment. “You didn’t show up for your report today,” he said severely, just to enjoy the moment of panic that put a bit of a spark back into her listless gaze as she straightened abruptly.

“I called Goldman, didn’t he tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Victor hedged.

“That I was sick. That I…” Her words dissolved into a sneeze, and she pulled a tissue free of the box tucked under her arm. “Needed another couple of days to deliver it.”

He let his gaze wander the place as she fluttered helplessly nearby. A studio apartment, not small but still a studio, decorated in a nauseating palette of pinks and pastels he was utterly unsurprised by - stuffed floor to ceiling with knick-knacks and kitsch. His studiously ignored the huge bed occupying one wall and let his eyes linger on the cello, standing proudly in a corner where the sun from the nearby window burnished it. An idle part of him wondered if he could ever convince her to play it for him.

Elgar, maybe…although she seemed much more like a Saint-Saëns person. He wanted to see those slim fingers coax the delicate strains of ‘The Swan’ from it. Watch her breathe life into something cold and inanimate.

“He told me,” Victor finally allowed, circling about to the small kitchenette tucked up against one wall. He set the vacuum flask in his hand down on her postage-stamp counter, slipped the suit jacket from his shoulders to fold neatly over a nearby chairback, and helped himself to rummaging through the cabinets. “Which is why I’m here. Things are pivotal right now. LFG needs you back as soon as possible.”

I need you, rattled the echo of that sentence within his own head.

He shook it away and opened another cupboard, rewarded with a stack of dishes only to find that her bowls had tiny animals capering about the rims garishly. Why had he expected anything different?

With a moue of distaste he pulled one down, and a soup spoon from a nearby drawer, gathering them all up to bring to the table that sat in the center of her apartment.

Canting her head to one side, her gaze lingered curiously on the container he held. “What is that?”

“It’s congee,” he explained shortly. “Don’t pretend you weren’t about to order some more of that delivery swill.”

She had the good grace to look sheepish as she sank onto one of the chairs at her small table, trying and failing miserably to keep the eagerness off her face. “I don’t know what you have against takeout.”

He paused in pouring out a measure of porridge, and fixed her with a hard look. “It’s greasy. And stuffed full of preservatives and who-knows-what sorts of mystery flavorings and chemicals. Glorified junk food.”

“You’ll have to excuse me. We don’t all have a personal chef to prepare us home-cooked meals every time we’re sick,” she huffed, a frown pinching her brows adorably.

“Well, now you do.” He set the bowl down before her with a clank for punctuation, before the ramifications of his words dawned on him and he scowled. “Try not to spill it all over yourself and waste my efforts.”

“You…made this? Yourself?” She was still staring at him when he pushed the spoon in her direction, and he busied himself with closing up the thermos to avoid meeting those wide, disingenuous eyes. By the time he’d turned back around, she had spooned up a bit and taken a hesitant taste, and he watched her features light up.

“This is delicious!” she exclaimed, in between mouthfuls.

“Of course it is,” he scoffed, resisting the urge to preen at her unnecessary compliment. The chair made a faint scuffle of sound as he pulled it out and sat down across from her, folding his arms on the cool wood of the table before him as he watched her eat with gusto.

This, he realized, was what he had regretted most when she came into Souvenir. Not that she hadn’t eaten his pudding offering, but that he hadn’t swallowed his pride and let himself come out of the kitchen to watch the way her eyes brightened with every bite. Heard for himself every tiny appreciative sound she made, or witnessed the flicker of her tongue catching an errant drop of porridge greedily.

Saw the contented smile on her face, and savor the knowledge that he had put it there.

In his food, he could put the things he couldn’t bring himself to say. Smile for me again, as he minced the ginger that would warm her belly. I worry about you, in the delicate shreds of chicken braised to near-melting. Lean on me, in the curls of spice-laced steam and scallion garnish.

Need me like you need this. Like water, like air. Like food.

At last, with a happy sigh, she pushed the empty bowl away and leaned back - only for him to stand, and scoop her effortlessly into his arms. “You should sleep.”

“I can walk,” she protested, but it sounded weak. Like a kitten mewling petulantly.

“Can you?” he drawled, in a voice that clearly said he doubted so. One that was validated when she gave up immediately and curled towards him, looping her arms around his neck in a way that made him feel more powerful than walking out of any successful boardroom meeting ever had.

As if he could take on the entire world, so long as she reached for him without hesitation like that.

He sat on the edge of her bed, indulging himself with keeping her slight weight on his lap. Finding himself loathe to let her go, now that he had ahold of her and she seemed so content to stay there.

Maybe she was merely delirious. Maybe she’d regret allowing him this tomorrow. But for now…

His silent musings were broken by her soft voice. “Thank you. Or maybe I should say, who should I be thanking? Are you Victor the CEO or Victor the Souvenir chef right now?”

He blinked down at the dark crown of her head. “I’m…” He hesitated, and felt foolish for having to even do so. “Neither. Just Victor.“

“Ah.Well, then thank you, ‘Just Victor’.” Her lips quirked in an impish smile he could just see as she tipped her gaze up to meet his. “And maybe you can do a favor for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Tell ‘Victor the CEO’ he’s a bully. And a tyrant. A veritable bespoke-clad despot,” she said, that infuriating little grin still curving across her face.

Is that all?” he asked dryly, his eyes narrowing peevishly. “Don’t hold back now, by all means.”

“No.” She let her mischief slip away and held his eyes pointedly, though he’d have been powerless to look elsewhere regardless. “Tell him…he needs to smile more. And mean it.”

One of her fingers poked lightly at his cheek and he caught it, stifling the urge to press his lips to her fingertip. Settling instead for folding his own around it as he chose his words cautiously, feeling as if he were tiptoeing across a minefield. “And ‘Victor the Souvenir Boss’, is there something I should convey to him?”

“Yeah. He needs to respond to his damn reviews.” She laughed softly, as if her own joke was the funniest thing, and the sound curled up carefully beneath his sternum and made itself at home. Squeezing all the remaining space from his ribcage.

"You’re silly. And an idiot. A great, grand fool.” Harsh words but he couldn’t help the laugh of his own that slipped in between them, warming the syllables to something like a caress.

He wanted to offer her roses, so very desperately. Perfumed words and all the softness she so rightly deserved, until his chest nearly ached with the desire to.

But he was a creature made of thorns, and he didn’t dare to bloom.

Not when petals were so easily crushed.

She only burrowed tighter against him, a small triumphant smile on her face. As if she’d just unraveled some grand mystery. “Maybe I am. And maybe you’re a great, heartless beast. But you’re here. That has to mean something. Maybe neither of us is quite what the other says we are.”

The strands of her hair spilled through his fingers like a rivulet of dark water as he brushed some away from her cheek.“And…what about ‘Just Victor’? Is there anything you want to say to him?” he finally dared to ask.

She wriggled closer, the tip of her nose brushing against the vee exposed by his open collar, and he prayed she couldn’t hear or feel how his heart was bruising itself against his ribs. “Mm. He smells nice.” Her words were a soft warm feather, ghosting across his bare skin. “ And…he has beautiful eyes. Kind eyes, when he thinks no one can see. But I see him.”

He swallowed thickly, and stopped fighting the way his arms wanted to wrap tighter about her. Counted out measureless breaths as she slowly melted against him. “You do, do you?”

“Yes. Because…I love…”

It was barely more than a sigh, and he strained his ears, waiting without daring to so much as exhale for her to finish the sentence. Every moment feeling like an eternity. “You love…?” he prompted, when the silence drew out unbearably thin, sharp edges waiting to cut him at a single wrong move.

The lace of her lashes fluttered against her cheeks at his faint question, but she didn’t open her eyes. “I love…congee…”

He snorted a sound of disbelief at her sleepy rambling, irritated with himself for the disappointment that plucked so keenly at the back of his breastbone. “Idiot.”

But he didn’t bother this time to halt the urge to lean down and press his lips to her fevered forehead, pausing as the wisp of her bangs tickled his nose. Lingering in the moment where she suffused all of his senses, until duty called him back to the world and he settled her gently back against the pillows.

“Rest well.” He folded another kiss into the slack palm of her hand, as if it would hold the warmth of his lips until she awoke, before relinquishing it and turning to gather his jacket. Slipping noiselessly from her apartment on reluctant feet.

The corridor outside was empty as he waited for the elevator, checking his phone and messages absently until the ding of its arrival drew his head up, and he caught sight of himself in the mirrored, polished doors.

He bit his lip against the smile he saw threatening, but it still found a way to cling stubbornly to the edges of his eyes, reflected back at him…and an uncomfortable truth nestled itself inside his heart as he stepped through the open doors and punched the button that would take him back to work. Back to reality.

Back to a day woefully bereft of her.

It could be pruned, and it could be shaped. But the briar had no say in when it flowered after all.

#mr love queen's choice #mr love: queen's choice #mlqc #mlqc victor #my writing #this could and should be better but #i'm in a rush to post before leaving town #you get what you get fam #we die without editing like women

1K notes · View notes

captainillogical · 4 years

Text

Distant Lands Ch.3

Stranded on a planet with toxic conditions and nothing but the clothes on your back, your only means of survival lies within the gem that got you here in the first place.

Spinel/Reader

collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants

(thanks for being patient! sorry im so slow sometimes lol)

You wake up several hours later with a migraine. You don't even want to open your eyes as you groan silently inside your head. Everything hurts terribly. You lay there for a few moments, and move your arms to massage your temples. The pressure against your skin helps, but you still feel quite a bit of the pressure inside your skull.

You don't even know what time it is. You look around you to realize there's a bit of light. Adjusting yourself slightly, you move your arms in front of you. You.. realize that Spinel is holding your center tightly, and you can’t move. You can’t even tell if she’s sleeping or not, so you lay there quietly for a moment to gauge her breathing. It’s.. steady enough, so you’re pretty sure she’s asleep. You try to move her arms away from you ever so slightly, and she tightens them and clears her throat. You freeze.

“Uhh,” You say out loud. “Can you stop touching me now? I kind of need to go to the bathroom.” “..you tryin’ to escape me?” She finally says after a few moments. You sigh aggravatedly out loud at her.

“No. How could I even get very far? You’re right here.” She makes a noncommittal grunt at that, but doesn’t make an effort to move. God you can't stand her. You don’t think you could even be friends with her under normal circumstances, nonetheless being forced into a friendship with a murderous clown against your will with no chances to escape. The sooner you can find a way off this miserable rock, the better. “I’m not joking. Let me go so I can pee.”

“Fine. I’m coming with you, though.” She replies, and moves her arms enough so you can fling her limbs off you and sit up. You turn around to see her staring at you, and you wonder if she watched you sleep. You fight off the shiver even though you’re a bit creeped out at the prospect.

“Please don’t tell me that you’re going to watch me.” You shoot her a look, and she raises an eyebrow.

“Watch you what?” She asks, and you fight off another groan of frustration. Fuck all of this.

“Nothing.” You exhale, and get up to go outside to relieve yourself. Spinel follows you, of course. Cursed gem, this one. Why couldn’t you have been taken by a Pearl instead, you think to yourself. This entire ordeal would’ve been a lot easier to deal with.

It’s so bright outside once you actually walk out, you feel like you haven’t seen light in forever. It takes a second for your eyes to adjust, but once they actually do you nearly open your mouth in shock at the state of this sun. It's freaking huge, for one. Like, several sizes bigger than the sun you're used to seeing. This one is also red, and something about it doesn't sit right with you.

You really gotta get off this planet.

"You ever see a sun like this?" You turn to face her.

"No. This one's weird." She squints at it. Not very helpful, then.

"Okay well, don't watch. I'm serious." You say, and lean your side against a nearby tree. She turns her head slightly to not face you. Whatever, good enough you guess.

You slip your pants off, but fumble for a second due to an item being in your front pocket. You pull the small object out and your heart drops for a moment. And then it picks back up rapidly. It's blue and bird shaped, and tied to a keyring. It's.. it's the small tracking beacon that you have matching with Steven. You.. you can't believe your luck. You never have this on you anymore.

Many years ago when you started going out on missions with the crystal gems, Steven used to beg and cry about having you not come with. He was so worried constantly, even though you were extremely safe with the gems, so you promised him you'd get something to make him feel better. And you got both yourself and him matching beacon keychains. So if you ever got lost, or something went wrong, you always had a way for him to find you. You stopped carrying yours regularly years ago since Steven started joining in on the gem missions, and mainly had it on your keyring for decoration and sentimental reasons. It must've fell off and into your pocket somehow. Now to just find a high enough hill to place this upon without Spinel noticing..

You realize that you've been quiet for a decent amount of time, and finish up your business before Spinel realizes anything.

Well. You kind of have a tiny smidge of hope now. You walk over to the gem, and she turns to regard you.

"Did that lighten your mood? You look almost cheerful." She says to you, and raises her eyebrow in question. You clear your throat. Fuck, you forgot your face shows everything.

"No, I'm actually extremely hungry and miserable right now." You reply coldly. You hope she's not suspicious of anything. "I'm gonna try and find some food for myself. Since you know, I'm an organic being and I need sustenance to survive." You glare at her, and she's not even paying any attention to you.

You try a different path this time since it's light out and you can actually see. Spinel's clinging to your arm of course, because why not. It's not like you can fly off this planet by yourself. You wander about for nearly twenty minutes before you find a tree with some long cylinder-like fruit? You hope it's a fruit. You pull one down and have to snap it off the tree, which was weirdly difficult. The outside feels strange, like there's a fine film of.. something similar to wax on the outside.

Spinel pulls one down as well, and turns it around in her hands. You bring it up to your face to sniff it, and it seems okay? The surface seems soft enough. You're about to bite into it when Spinel rips the one in her hands in half with a quick snap, and the weirdest looking slime pours out of it in a murky brown color. It's absolutely repugnant smelling.

"I wouldn't eat this." She says, and drops the fruit to the ground. "Doesn't smell great."

"No shit, really?" You reply sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "It looked delicious to me."

"Was just trying to help. I don't want you vomiting again like last time." She regards you with a look that you can't interpret, and this instantly pisses you off. How dare she act like she's doing you any fucking favors.

"I don't need your help." You force out, seething. She looks like she's about to say something, but you storm off in a huff before she can start. You don't care.

You need to find food and water today, otherwise your chances of getting home to Steven alive and in one piece are close to zero. Your body aches, but you keep moving forward. You're determined to stay alive.

Spinel is still following behind you, and she isn't holding your arm this time. You push a bunch of vines out of the way of what looks like an overgrown path elsewhere, and you spoke too soon. Or, thought too soon, because she's wrapped her hand around yours this time. Ugh.

You pass by a lot of different types of bushes with similar berries like the ones from before, but you aren't taking your chances with those. You risk faster dehydration if you vomit any more. Your stomach grumbles at the thought of sustenance, and you feel like you might start chomping on leaves soon. You.. realize something with that train of thought. You've only sought out plant-life as a food source so far, completely ignoring any kind of animal that you could possibly eat.

You realize that you haven't seen any animals at ALL on this planet so far. That's strange. I mean, obviously for a complicated ecosystem like this there has to be creatures of some sort around, right? You've really only been here for a day, so you can't really be sure, but.. you're lost in thought when Spinel tugs your arm, and you nearly trip forward.

"What the fuck?" You say out loud.

"I think there's something edible over here." She says, nodding over to this area through the thick trees. You walk over to where Spinel is standing to see what she's looking at.

You can see trees with different fruit on it this time than the others, and you'll take your chances with this one.

"Let's hope this one doesn't poison me." You say with a shrug, and make your way over to the couple of trees nearest to you.

Looking up, the lowest hanging fruit are close to 15ft off the ground. They're green and yellow colored, and shaped like some kind of eggplant/durian hybrid. You hope it smells better than the other 'foods' you have discovered so far. You walk around the tree with Spinel still holding your hand, trying to find an easy spot to climb. There isn't even a viable foot holding that you can reach with your hands. You look at the other trees nearby, and they're all shaped the same. Tall, with smooth trunks that are completely useless to climbing. Great.

You look around you to see if you can find any rocks or sticks to knock some down with, and see a decent sized branch on a low enough tree to grab. Sweet. You grab it to break it off, and it snaps off the tree pretty easily. When you turn around, Spinel's already got several fruit in her arms, and is grabbing another down. Oh right. You forgot. She can stretch herself at will. Why the fuck didn't she say anything before? You're nearly seething with rage, but decide to push it down to deal with your hunger instead. You walk back over to Spinel, and she hands you a fruit. You turn it around in your hands, gauging it's feel and smell. It seems alright. Better than the others, anyway.

It's soft to the touch, so you tear into it with your hands carefully, ripping the fleshy skin apart easily. It's ripe, and smells nice, and the flesh inside looks good enough to make your mouth water. But you're not a fool, so you pull out a small chunk and place it inside your mouth. It tastes good, actually. Kinda lacks flavor, but you don't really care at this point. It doesn't make you vomit immediately. You wait a minute or two, making sure your stomach isn't going to retch this, and continue eating it slowly to not upset your stomach.

You don't realize that Spinel has been watching you carefully through all of this, and it’s right then that you notice that she probably doesn't know a thing about humans or organic beings at all. With your stomach steadily being filled and you've now got a bit of energy, your anger from earlier returns. She brought you to this planet with the idea of keeping you trapped here but didn't even bother to see if you could even SURVIVE. Your attention is back on her, rage clear in your eyes.

“Did you even think for one single, miserable second about how I was suppose to survive out here?” You say, voice nearly shaking in fury. “Do you even know what a human needs to live?”

Spinel seems taken aback for only a second before her eyebrows furrow.

"What were you going to do if I couldn't find any food and died?” You're walking closer to her. "What if I ate something that poisoned me? What if I touched something and my skin melted off? What if something attacked me and I bled out? What would you have done!? Left my body to rot on this planet, leaving you alone with it?!" Her eyes flicker with emotion that quickly turns to anger, and at this point you're standing in front of the gem, glaring up at her. You jam a finger into her chest, just to the side of her gem. “Steven would never know what happened to me, my family would never get answers. Do you even know a single FUCKING thing about humans!?”

Spinel has the nerve to look down at you with aggravation on her face as she jabs a finger back into your chest, pushing you backwards.

“Listen here, human,” Spinel says the last word with a sneer. “I searched through several planets to find you one with adequate shelter and food, because I'm a good friend.” She jams her finger into your chest again to make a point. “So if I were you, I would be a little more GRATEFUL.”

You scoff at her, placing a hand over where her finger had hit.

“OH! WOW! YOU'RE SO RIGHT!!" You throw your hands into the air dramatically. “Thank you SO MUCH for stranding me on this SHITHOLE planet with a HOMICIDAL MANIAC.” You pointedly look to her to emphasize that she's the maniac. “I am so ETERNALLY GRATE-”

Her hand shoots out, slamming your torso against the tree behind you, cutting off your supply of air. Several pieces of fruit fall from the tree above, thunking against the jungle floor around you.

“You know, you're not being a very good friend.” She draws out, holding you in place. With the wind knocked out of you and you being pressed into the tree behind you, you can barely gasp an intake of breath.

"Clearly you know nothing about being friends with anyone." You manage to choke out. Her grip on you tightens, your ribs squeezing painfully. You blink, seeing spots in your vision, your heart beating ever so loudly.

“You don’t know me. I was MADE to be a friend. I WOULD know what I’m talking about.” She spits out at you.

“You were what?” You barely manage to say, and she loosens her grip on you slightly. You take in several gasps of air.

“Nothing. You wouldn’t know.” She hisses angrily.

“What do you mean, made to be a friend!” You question her, and she drops her hand from your torso.

“I'm not talking about this. We're done here.” She retorts, and spins around to storm off. Your jaw drops as you watch her stomp off into a pathway you’ve never been.

Wow. Very mature.

You pat yourself down for a sec to make sure you’re okay, and honestly, your ribs really do hurt. You hope she didn’t fracture them, because booooy, that would suck. Your arms feel like they're starting to bruise already. You grab as many fruit your pockets and arms can hold, and set off to the pathway Spinel went through.

What the actual fuck was she talking about back there? Made to be a friend? You can barely manage to walk and carry the fruit in your arms, several keep jumping out already and you have to stop and pick them back up. You took note of where this area was, and you're pretty sure you're still within the vicinity of your shelter.

You don't make it very far when you walk directly into something, spilling your arms contents everywhere. It's.. Spinel.

"Uh.. the hell?" You say out loud and look up to see Spinel staring at something. You follow her line of sight to see a.. cave of some sort on the side of this cliff. "What is that?"

"I don't know." She says in aggravation, and stalks off over to the opening. You follow suit.

It's a large entrance, about 11-12 feet tall if you could guess. The outer edges are weirdly smooth. This cave almost seems man-made in nature, but there's something about it that tells you not so much. You can't place it yet, though. The cave seems to be pretty deep, as well. You can't see much, other than rocks and dirt and some dead leaves.

"Weird. You think the gems that were here did this?" You question out loud, not really expecting an answer.

“...No.” She says, almost hesitantly. “I don’t know what this is.” She looks like she’s about to walk into the cave, but second guessed herself and spins around to face you. “Gem stuff is different from this.”

“Hm, well.. whatever. It doesn’t matter. I still need to find water before dusk, and it’s mid afternoon, if I’m going by this sun’s position.” You say, and wipe your brow. It’s humid, and you feel gross. You don’t really want to stick around to figure out this planet’s mysteries, either.

You walk off, not caring if Spinel follows you or not. She can figure herself out. You’ve got shit to do, and she’s of no use to you other than her ability to stretch like earlier. You keep along the path you’ve been following, looking around occasionally to find any more food or something helpful. Most of the trees around you are the same type, other plantlife breaking it up here and there. There has to be a water source nearby, because you’ve been so parched you feel like a raisin. Ugh.

You pass by an area with a lot of rocks off to the side, and you can hear something. The closer you get to it, the more it sounds like running water. Just your luck!! You run over to it, and there’s a bit of a drop off, but the view is absolutely amazing.

You spot a small waterfall off to the side, and a decent sized lake in this clearing. The plant life around the edges of the water look nearly ethereal with how the vines and flowers are floating on top of the water. This looks like an oasis. You carefully place all of your fruit down off to the side by a larger rock, and run down the side to get to the water.

You get up to it, and bend down to test it with your finger first. Gotta make sure it ain’t acid water, you know? Never know with this place. It feels fine and it isn’t burning your skin, so you’re taking it as a good sign. You cup some with your hands and bring it up to your face to take a quick sniff before drinking. It smells a bit off, but you’re sure it’s just because you’re on this strange planet.

You take several small gulps, making sure your stomach is okay with it. You sit at the edge of the lake, resting your feet for a second. You feel.. a bit relieved. Okay. You’ve got food, you’ve got water, you’ve got shelter.. and you have a possible way off this planet. Maybe. You still have to find a good place to deposit the tracker. You hope Steven remembers that his matching keychain exists in the back of his bedside drawer. You.. you hope that they’re trying to find you. It’s been more than a full day, and you logically KNOW that them getting to you would take a bit of time.. but you’re worried regardless. You’ve never been in a situation so hopeless before. You’ve camped a lot, sure, and you’ve been on planets not exactly suitable for human life. But not something like this, and not with an unfamiliar, wild, mood-volatile gem.

Speaking of said gem. What she said earlier is still on your mind, and you still know nothing about her other than her name and how weirdly defensive she is about friendship. You don’t know about her age, what she was doing, why she was attacking Steven, how she KNOWS Steven.. none of it makes any sense. You’ll get your answers eventually, or you’ll get off this planet. Without her. She can stay here until that sun goes supernova for all you give a shit.

You’re lost in thought when you see ripples across the water, and you look up. There’s nothing in the water that you can see.. Ah. Off to the side.

There’s a little.. animal, drinking water a good 60 feet away from you. It’s hideous. It looks like a crossbreed of a platypus, a duck, and a goose. How unfortunate. You watch it for a few minutes, as it doesn’t see you sitting there and you can safely observe it. It doesn’t really do anything other than drink water and look around. It seems almost peaceful, with dusk setting in and the sun edging away over the trees. So there are small animals here, after all. Huh. Wonder why you hadn’t seen any before.

You’re sitting there quietly when something moves behind you, making the strange creature let out a squawk and run to hide in the underbrush.

You see Spinel’s feet walk up to your side, and internally sigh. Couldn’t even get adequate alone time. You were kinda hoping you could sit here alone to zone out and plan a different way to get off this planet as a backup plan. Well, whatever. You’ll plot later.

“We should head back. It’s getting dark, and I’d like to gather shit for a possible fire to keep myself warm tonight.” You say, and stand up. Ugh, everything hurts, and the heavier gravity is fucking with your knees. You lean down to brush off your clothes from any dirt left on you, and stretch your back. Spinel’s watching you quietly.

“Ya didn’t leave.” She states. You stare at her, a bit dumbfounded.

“Where would I honestly go, Spinel?” You sigh. “Also I’m not stupid enough to wander off right before it gets dark. I don’t know what’s out there.” You turn around to head to your ruins that you call a shelter, and gather your food back up. You’ll figure out a way to transport some water later.

Spinel gathers a couple of the fruit in her own arms, like she’s trying to be helpful. You glare daggers at the back of her head. You turn around before leaving to take in the scenery again, and burn it into your memory. You’ll be back tomorrow.

It takes nearly twenty minutes to get back to camp, it’s almost completely dark out now, and the cold is setting in. Once you’re back, you walk into the ruins to set down your food into a corner. You look to your makeshift bedding from last night, and figure you’ll try to grab more leaves once you’re done with your fire supply gathering.

You head back outside to see Spinel rummaging around in some bushes, doing who knows what. You roll your eyes, and walk back into the jungle line of trees to find some dry foliage to burn. There’s a tree you can see that’s half dead, so you peel some of its flaking bark off, as well as any of the dry looking branches. You spot a few branches on the ground as well, and gather those too.

You come back and forth a few times to get enough of a stash going. You don’t know how long you’ll be on this planet, but you’re the type of person that likes to be prepared if possible.

You wipe your hands on your jeans, proud of the pile you’ve managed to build. Spinel comes into the ruins beside you, with something in her arms.

“Uhh, what’s that?” You ask her. She’s just holding a pile of twigs and moss.

“Kindling.” She says, and raises her eyebrows like it’s obvious.

Huh. That’s.. helpful of her. You don’t know how you feel about this, so you just tell her to put it on the ground next to your pile.

“Thanks, I guess.” You say awkwardly. “I’m gonna go find leaves to make my bedding a bit better. I’m not running off, okay?” You head outside again, but not before you take a quick glance at Spinel standing there. Her expression was strange - one you haven’t seen her make before. But you have more pressing concerns right now, so you wave that out of your mind.

You can see your breath outside now. This weather is absolutely wild, you can’t believe the temperature would just drop so quickly like that. You’re shivering, so you work quickly to gather as many leaves as possible. You spot a couple of large ones, and catch yourself getting excited. You scoff out loud at yourself. Getting excited over leaves now? What’s next, getting excited when your food doesn’t make you vomit? Excited that Spinel hasn’t strangled you yet? How low will your standards go?

When you get back inside with your findings, you see Spinel over by your makeshift bed. Except it’s piled.. Comfortably high now. Like a foot off the ground, what the hell?

“Is this okay?” She finally speaks up.

“I was gone maybe five minutes, and you did all this?” You ask her, and she nods. The fuck, you’re almost touched.

But then you remember she’s trapped you here and she doesn’t actually care about you at all.

You set down your leaves in the pile, and grab the stuff you brought in to make a fire in the middle of this room. You place a couple rocks in a circle as Spinel watches you, putting sticks around in a cone-like formation. You put in the kindling as well, and grab the sticks you’re using to start the fire with.

You’ve made fires using this method before, but it’s been a while, and you’re rusty. You feel like you’ve got performance anxiety with Spinel watching you, but after a few tries (and a few expletives) you succeed in building a small fire. You sigh out loud in relief, and gather a few more sticks to build the fire with, placing them on the pile. It seems to be burning nicely. You sit by it for a few minutes, watching it to make sure it’ll be fine and not fall over, and to also get warm. Spinel sits beside you, much to your annoyance.

You gather your thoughts before succumbing to the heavy pull of sleep. If you can wake up in the middle of the night and sneak away from Spinel somehow, you can place the tracker on a hill nearby. You have a couple places in mind already. And then maybe you’ll be rescued, and you’ll never have to see this gem ever again, and you can sleep in a real bed. And take a shower. And eat real food. You sigh again, and Spinel glances at you.

She watches you for a considerable amount of time, enough for you to get irritated and get up.

“I’m gonna sleep.” You state, and walk over to plop on the bed. You feel like all these leaves don’t make any difference, comfort-wise. It isn’t as cold as before though.. so that’s a plus.

You hear a scuffle behind you, and you hope Spinel is getting up to leave. You feel a presence behind you, and reside to groaning inside your head. Ugh! Whatever! You’ll pass out soon anyway, weather she’s there or not.

You feel Spinel get in bed behind you, and she wraps her arm around your middle.

“I’m not going to leave. I told you. You can stop touching me.” You say to the person behind you. She grunts in response.

“I’m not sure I trust you yet.” She mumbles. If you could scream right now, you would.

You lay there for several long moments, letting sleep drift to you.

Your thoughts are heavy with yearning to escape, and your eyes close with the intention of waking up in just a few short hours.

#spinel x reader #spinel #su #spinel self insert #steven universe #distant lands #fic #my fic

145 notes · View notes

asterinjapan · 5 years

Text

Walks through history and caves

Hello again!

Today was a hot and sunny day, so of course I spent most of it inside, haha. That’s not as much of a shame as you might think, because I saw some lovely things and I didn’t melt. That’s always a plus.

Follow me behind the link for today’s report on Okinawa World and the Okinawa prefectural museum!

So, yeah, two things today again. I have a bunch of things I want to do or visit, but not all of them can be combined due to bus lines being very inconvenient. In general they’re pretty great, but sometimes two things are like 5 kilometers apart and yet the fastest way by bus is going to the other side of the island first… So I stayed up late last night and scrambled up my list to see what came up. As it turns out, the Prefectural museum is on the other side than anything else I’d like to visit, and would thus always require a trip back to Naha. That would be the plan for the afternoon then!

In the morning, I went to Okinawa World. It’s a theme park of sorts about, well, Okinawa, and frankly the majority of it is… well. I mostly came here for the cave, which we will get to later, because upon entering, I learnt that there would be a performance in ten minutes, so I went there first. It turned out to be a traditional Eisa-style drum and dance performance and boy, did that group pack a punch! Near the end they rolled in an absolutely massive drum as well, those were some intense vibrations, haha. Despite the heat (it was open-air, although underneath a tent cover), time flew and I had a good time during the performance. I however can’t say it’s music I’d very quickly buy a CD of, because I feel this is something you have to experience.

After that, I made my way to the limestone cave, Gyokusendo, the second biggest in Japan. It was formed over the past 300,000 years and measures 15 kilometers in length, although only a little less than 1 kilometer is accessible to the public. And accessible it is: there’s a metal walkway with guardrails and at the end there’s an escalator, so you don’t have to climb stairs all the way up again.

The most impressive part is right at the beginning: once you descend the first flight of stairs, you face an absolutely massive room full of stalactites and stalagmites. It’s pretty dark in here, but there are enough lights to find your way and take pictures without needing excessive flash. And although mankind has carved itself a path through the cave, it’s definitely still a natural beauty. The cave narrows the further you get, and at one point they’ve had to carve a pathway through the stalactites since they had gotten too dense. The big dangers here are tripping as the ceiling drips incessantly, and hitting your head against a stalactite, haha.

Here and there, special places were marked and occasionally got special lights, like a blue pool of water and a waterfall.

Overall, I really enjoyed this walk, especially since it was only 21 C down here, haha. That was quite the clash once I got back outside, with 30 C and sun. The cave exit leads you into the Kingdom Village, which is full of work shops that all require additional fees, and a bunch of souvenir shops. Uh, yeah, it’s a bit overly commercial here, haha, but I was prepared for that and thus didn’t really mind. Outside the cave they were selling commemorative pictures which they had taken before entering the actual cave, so I uh, caved and got that one. I should be able to download it tomorrow too, so that’s nice! I still look very jetlagged on that picture, but hey, not a lot of full-body shots of me here otherwise, haha. It’s all selfies or nothing.

I walked through Kingdom Village fairly quickly, although it looked very nice. Scents of all kinds of food were mingling, and that didn’t exactly do wonders to my stomach along with the heat. I most definitely skipped out on the snake show (thankfully you can opt out of paying for that in the first place) and looked up my bus times. Still plenty of time left, and thus I crossed the street to find a café.

Not just any café, however – the Cave Café! Across the street lies the Gangala valley. You can only take a tour if you make reservations, and I’d juuuust come out of a cave, but you can still take a seat and have a drink at the café. Which was really cool, because it is indeed inside a cave, with stalactites dripping above you. They served soft drinks with flavored ice blocks, so I asked for the most popular combination (lemon and – something) and took a seat.

After soaking in the cool air and the pretty views for a while, I went out to find the bus stop. The bus took me back to my starting point, about 9 minutes away from my hotel, but I wasn’t done yet for today! No, I boarded the next bus which brought me to the Okinawa Prefectural Museum. Although I must confess I rushed into the nearest shopping center first to find a bathroom and a water tap, haha.

After that, I walked to the museum and got myself a ticket for the general exhibition in the historic museum, skipping out of the art museum and special exhibitions as it was already close to 4 PM. I didn’t have to rush, though, since the museum is open until 8 PM on Fridays and Saturdays.

And I’m happy I didn’t have to rush, because whoa, this museum is packed! I got a free audio guide, which came with 50 (!) audio spots, and consisted of a map with a digital pen. You set the pen to your preferred language and then tapped the audio spot on the map. To be fair, if you listen to all audio clips, it takes much longer to make your way through, haha, but it definitely added to the experience.

The museum has a very impressive opening with a glass floor looking down into the coral life that surrounds the islands of Okinawa prefecture. Right in the first hall, there’s a relief map on the floor of the islands, and with light projections, they show how the islands were formed over the ages. The history museum really lived up to its name and covered the entire history of the Ryukyu islands right from the earliest human being discovered there, to the kings and culture, until the eventual 17th century invasion by Satsuma (currently Kagoshima in the south of Japan) and eventually annexed by Japan in 1879 as the Okinawa prefecture, only to be briefly under USA command following the horrific and devastating Battle of Okinawa in 1945. Okinawa was returned to Japan in the 70s, but the relationship remains difficult as many Ryukyuans feel independent of Japan. Sure enough, Ryukyu culture is a mix of Japanese, Chinese and other influences and yet has its own character, and even managed to remain a kingdom under Satsuma and Japan, be it with adjustments to become a vassal state. Current concerns are the loss of Ryukyu identity due to mixing with Japan and Japanese attempts to push their language and culture onto Okinawa.

So yeah, pretty difficult topics presented in a mostly neutral manner, but there was still more to discover. The natural history part went into length about the unique eco systems of Okinawa’s different islands, with very specific species of insects, birds and so on that got cut off from the rest of the world early on and now only exist here. They went the extra mile and replicated the environments here, trees and all, with animals hiding in between the trees for you to find (not live ones, of course).

Other parts of the museum discussed all aspects of life, including funerals, and this is where I truly learnt why the urns at the Tamaudun Mausoleum were surprisingly big. They do not contain ashes, since cremation wasn’t par of the course back then. Instead, once the body had decomposed, there was a bone washing ceremony and then the bones were deposited into the urn, their actual final resting place. Apparently the urns are now sought after because they’re pretty and there have already been instances or grave robbing… Geesh.

Aside from that slightly disturbing note, there were more folklore exhibits, such as the dressing up as the gods, which was on tv the other day and confused me completely, haha. The person dressed up as god, Miruku, supposedly comes from across the sea (which is something akin to heaven for people living on an island) and brings good fortune. Other gods must be appeased as they might bring bad omens. And unlike mainland Japan, it’s the women here who are spiritually superior and communicate with the deities as priestesses. I think I could have watched an entire museum on that topic alone, haha, but they did a good job covering the basics here considering how broad their scope is.

There are also a couple of traditional buildings outside, but I didn’t stay there for long since well, I just visited the Nakamura house already, haha. And I was getting really, really tired – although I had a great time at the museum, I was secretly kind of glad to be through. It made for an interesting contrast with Okinawa world, although I can’t say the latter felt super ingenuine or something. Just – commercially inclined. But I’m not sure in how far Okinawan/Ryukyu culture is actually oppressed and in how far it is akin to what I’ve heard the Ainu people on Hokkaido say: that they feel they had to put on a costume to even show their culture at all. I don’t think that’s the case here, but I’m way too uninformed still to say something sensible about that on Okinawa, so I’ll leave that to your discretion. Maybe I’m just spouting sleep-deprived nonsense here, who knows, haha.

After that contemplation, I had a (slightly too big, but still) delicious dinner in the mall, which hosts several traditionally Japanese food stands, and then walked to the bus stop on the other side of the road. Technically the wait for the bus meant that I could just walk back to my hotel and arrive there at the same time, but it had been a long day and it was past 7 PM, which means it’s dark here, so uh, the bus it is, haha.

And now I’m back in my hotel! Longest day so far, so I don’t know what I’m up to for tomorrow. I have enough to choose from, that’s for sure! Photos will be up soon, and thank you for reading all of that. See you tomorrow!

#report #japan 2019 #report: japan 2019

4 notes · View notes

khadij-al-kubra · 5 years

Text

Thomas In Wonderland (ch 2)

Characters: Thomas (fictional), Virgil, Roman, Patton, Logan, Remy, Emile, Joan, Talyn, Deceit, Nate, The Dragon Witch, fan adopted short vid characters

Pairings: None (some implied Prinxiety)

Words: 1993

Summary: Thomas takes a long fall and has some snacks

Author’s Note: Hey friends! Ya girl is back at it! Not much to say in the ways of notes except now i have an actual Beta reader! Yaaaay. The awesome and talented @fuck-my-life-i-want-food. I have to thank them for catching all the little errors and typos I miss and that WordDoc failed to point out. (digital dummy) As always I am open to any writing critiques or tips you may have, and any likes, comments or reblogs would be immensely appreciated! Also please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters for this fanfic or any of my other future writings. I am so happy everyone’s enjoying the story so far, and i’m having a lot of fun writing it! So now, where were we? Ah yes...

Down the Rabbit Hole

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH”

Thomas’s echoes screamed as he tumbled down the rabbit hole. Which if he wasn’t so busy falling he might’ve noticed was much larger than a normal rabbit hole might be. Not that he had seen the insides of many rabbit holes, but it didn’t take someone with a degree in chemical engineering to take an educated guess that most weren’t the circumference of a very large albeit dirt covered swirly slide. Nor were they probably as well lit or furbished with homey brick-a-brack here and there.

But then again, nobody in their right mind would be expected to notice these things while falling down said hole screaming their lungs out. So you could hardly blame Thomas’s momentary laps of attention to detail.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH *cough cough * AAAAAAHHHHHH”

Thomas had never been so scared in his life. Not even that one time his uncle had taken him out on a fishing trip and they got caught in that rainstorm out on the water. He didn’t know how long he’d been falling but surely it was only a matter of time until he hit the ground harder than Wile E Coyote. And his body did NOT run on the kind of cartoon logic where he could survive such a fall. His anxiety was going through the roof and his voice was growing hoarse from his shouts. Plus it was dark and dirty and humid and oh my gosh, why didn’t he just stay home!?

“AAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaah?”

Huh…jeez this tunnel is deep, Thomas thought. Now that he wasn’t so focused on screaming, Thomas had a chance to let his logic catch up to him. He realized that the less he panicked the more his decent slowed down.

Okay Thomas, just remember your breathing exercises. In for four…Hold for seven...Out for eight… As Thomas worked to count, hold, and release his breath he felt himself slowing like syrup. His spinning body settled into a calmer upright position, and finally his heart rate was back to a comfortable comforting rhythm.

Phew! Taking a break from his tiring terror, the young artist got a look around him. It was dirt brown for obvious reasons, but for less obvious reasons he also spotted old-fashioned gaslights along the walls. As well as a half stuck leather love seat, a mirror, exactly three different pride flags and a toaster oven. One thing he did not see however was a pitcher of water, which Thomas wished was around because his poor dry throat sure could’ve used something to drink right about then. Oh! He just remembered there was half a packet of gum left in his pocket from his last run to CVS. Too bad I didn’t keep the receipts, or else I could’ve made myself a rope to climb up or something. Oh well. Thomas took a piece of gum and chewed on it gratefully.

As he coated his throat in minty sweetness Thomas wished that he had a wristwatch so he could know exactly how long he’d been falling. I mean it’s gotta be a solid five minutes at least since I tripped. Stupid laces. Thomas bent down to tie his laces so he wouldn’t trip on them into any more holes. That is if he ever landed on solid ground again. The momentum caused him to flip around once or twice but eventually he made the two rabbit ear knots. Down and down Thomas went, yet still no sign of a light below or any below at all beyond the shadowy black. Who would’ve thought slowly falling down a hole for so long could be so boring! Thomas hated being bored. Almost as much as he hated writers block, but definitely more than muggy weather. And he still had no clue what time it was.

“Such a weird thing to want while falling down a deep hole,” Thomas said. “A watch of all things. Then again, I’ve definitely had stranger thoughts…Have I always talked to myself this much?”

Before he could answer his own question, Thomas spotted a glint of something from below. A light? Or maybe it was a ladder or something useful. As he went down the item came up to meet him and he snatched it form the air. It was the silver pocket watch the Black Rabbit had on him.

“Poor thing must have lost it on the way down here.”

He opened the watch to check the time, only to find that the hands were not only ticking oddly fast (Thomas would’ve sworn it was the same counts as a waltz) but also moving counter clockwise. Well that’s a lot of help, he thought. Only now did he see there was also an inscription written on the inside:

‘V- I go mad for you, every time. – R’

Thomas wasn’t sure if this was meant to be a compliment or a weird threat, but either way it was clear from the inscription and well-worn look of the silver that this watch meant a great deal to the Black Rabbit.

“Poor little guy must be going nuts without it, especially if he was in a hurry for something,” said Thomas. “I’ll try my best to get it back to him. If I ever touch ground again, let alone—Oof!”

His whole body suddenly jerked to a halt, like how it did at the end of rollercoaster rides. Thomas looked down and to his great relief saw he was floating a foot above solid ground. A second later he was dropped down and tasted said solid ground.

“Ow…” Despite the taste of twigs and leaves that he picked out of his mouth, Thomas was relieved to have reached a bottom at last.

It looked like he was in another tunnel- only this one was long ways and had a clear warm light at the end. Moreover, he saw up ahead of him a rather large shadow on the wall with rabbit ears and could hear anxious mutterings of, “I’mlatei’mlateafucki’m SO late! Where’s my watch, I’m so LATE!”

“Hey, Mr. Black Rabbit,” Thomas called out.

The shadow turned to his voice, ears shooting straight up, only to scamper out of sight. He really was a jittery little fella. Thomas ran down the tunnel in the hopes of catching up. Not only to give him back the pocket watch, but also he was honestly still pretty curious about where the Black Rabbit was going.

As he ran Thomas passed a few wooden doors and portraits of upside down selfies, but he kept his eyes ahead. At one point he saw the Rabbit’s cottony tail and turned that same corner. At the end of the hall was a door left ajar. Thomas opened it and found himself in a spacious room, nearly bare save for a round glass table and lamps along the walls. The Rabbit seemed to have vanished.

“Boy he’s really good at popping in and out of places suddenly,” Thomas said, scratching his hair. “But where could he have gone?”

Just then he spotted a spec of blue to his right: a small pair of curtains low to the ground. Thomas knelt down and pulled them apart. Behind it was a simple door with a brass handle and keyhole. This was getting curiouser and curiouser by the minute. He stooped even lower, practically laying on the wooden floor now and peeked through the keyhole. What he saw took his breath away and made him smile for the first time all day. Beyond the door was the most gorgeous garden he had ever seen! Filled with gardenias and tulips, roses and violets, sunflowers and daffodils…he really liked flowers. There were even ones in colors and species he didn’t recognize.

“Oh I gotta check that out! But how am I going to get through this teensy thing?”

Thomas stood up and walked around the room, hoping there might be another him-sized door he’d maybe missed. He saw no door but when he accidentally knocked his hip into the round table (Ouch) he saw there was a small glass bottle with a tag on it that read DRINK ME in Arial font, and a plate with a single large sugar cookie on it. On the cookie in pink colored icing were the words Eat Me in lovely Cursive. It wasn’t every day that Thomas came across food that was so bossy. Then again, he hadn’t eaten or drunk much today, and he was no good on an empty stomach. He left the bottle alone because a) the font wasn’t too nice and b) the blue liquid inside looked like Gatorade but could also very well be poison or liquid drainer or something. He remembered what happened in Heathers.

The cookie on the other hand a) had a sweeter font and b) well, he’d always been weak for cookies. So he pocketed the bottle for later, took the gum that had long ago lost its flavor out of his mouth, put in in the wrapper (because he wasn’t a barbarian), picked up the big cookie, and took a bite.

Aaaand he immediately regretted it. Not because the cookie tasted bad, it was actually delicious. But because he felt himself getting slightly compressed and saw the room getting even larger, until Thomas found himself to be the size of an ant.

“Oookay. So big cookies here make you small. Duly noted.” For some reason he felt like that should be reversed, but he could mull one that more later. Thomas turned to the door. “Say, maybe I’m small enough to fit through that door! Even if it’s locked, which it probably is and I didn’t see a key anywhere…I could probably fit through that keyhole. Ha!”

Thomas jogged on his teensy legs over to the door. He was certainly small enough to fit into the hole. Unfortunately he was too small to actually reach said hole no matter how high he tried to jump. Thomas gave a sigh.

“Okay new plan.” Thomas thought for a moment and then took the DRINK ME bottle out of his pocket. If the cookie made him small, then it stood to reason the drink might make him big. “Well, here’s hoping is not liquid cleaner.”

With 50% hope and 50% anxiety, Thomas uncorked the bottle and took a swig, downing the whole thing. Not that there was much to begin with. It was a small bottle after all. Thankfully it wasn’t poisonous; actually it tasted like grape soda. Or some kind of berry maybe? Definitely something fruity. Also thankfully, Thomas felt himself being stretched big and bigger. Not so thankfully his head knocked into the ceiling. Now he was too big. Thomas groaned. At least now he knew what it was like to be tall. That was kind of nice.

“Okay, new-new plan.” Thomas took out the rest of the Eat Me cookie and this time only took a nibble. “Take two.”

Thomas once again felt that compression like before. This time however, he was more like the size of a mouse than an ant. He jogged back to the wooden door again and this time found he could just reach the rim of the keyhole. He pulled himself up (good thing he’d been going to the gym lately) and through the hole. Finally he was on the other side.

“Woohoo! Thank you size changing snacks!”

His mood improved greatly with the treats and the new scenery. The garden was even grander up front than through a keyhole. So many vibrant colors, and the sweet earthy perfumes seemed to wrap around him like chiffon. Thomas relaxed for the first time all day. Still, he didn’t know where exactly he was or where the Black Rabbit in the purple waistcoat had run off to. What Thomas did know was that he had been very distressed about something and that he had the bunny’s missing pocket watch. There was still a chance that Thomas could help the poor fella, or at least give his belonging back to him. He could still do something. So Thomas moved on in the only direction he was sure of- forward.

<=PREV

NEXT=>

Tag List: @altruistic-skittles @thekeytohappiness-is-you@canadian-crofters @icecoldparadise @the-pastel-peach@justisaisfine @bluebloodstains @purpleshipper @patchworkofstars@axyzel @hissesssss @beautifully-terribly @pink-and-purple-flowers@jynxlovesluck @thatsanswitch @6tick6tock6@hanramz-the-fander@azlinne @helplesscreator @thestoryofme13 @bibbidi-bobbity-booyah @accidental-sanders @moonstone-fox @smokeyrutilequartz@phlying-squirrel @madly-handsome @puns-and-patton@notveryglittery @eequalsmcscared @safesandersides@lizziepopanime @anxiously-unsatisfied-world @ab-artist@unikornavenger @queer-human-being @grey-lysander@asofterfan @fangirltothefullest @tinkslittlebelle @allsortsofgeekery@fuck-my-life-i-want-food @ironwoman359 @a-valorous-choice@broadwaytheanimatedseries @sugarglider9603 @xx-fandom-potato-xx @mycatshuman @punsterterry @journalanxiety @stuck-in-a-surrealist-painting @elementalshadowwitch @fuck-my-life-i-want-food @the-psycho-pie @satanblessi @thesassiersilv101 @bat-fangirl77-fan @icantbeme71097 @chituri @dangerfishie @grade-a-trash-blog @justsomerandomhooman @romano-cheesy@llamaavocado @pinkbea09 @aliceofscarletflames @backatthebein@em-be-lievable @mephonic @impatentpending @paperghastly@ravenclawangst @iamtrashcans @loganberrysanders@icequeenoriginal @book-of-charlie @ierindoodles @thatsthat24 @monstercupcake61176

#KDsWriting #Thomas in Wonderland AU #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #Logan sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #emile picani #remy sanders #joan and talyn #nate sanders #dragon witch #sanders sides #sanders sides fandom #famders

37 notes · View notes

onceuponawildflower · 6 years

Text

Little life update:

I woke up this morning feeling so I don't least satisfied with myself in my life. Yesterday I had two conversations, one celebrating the joy of cooking and viewing food as a form of expression and identity, and the other a lengthy four hour talk with a friend late into the night where we plunged into deep talks about the value of self-love, identity, and acceptance.

I made a delicious breakfast and cuppa and had a conversation with my dad about unearthing my great great grandma's cookbooks from the old country. I've been interested in learning more about who I am based off of the food from whence I came. My ancestors are primarily Slovak, German, and British. The most common cultural food I can remember growing up with was Slovak and German, but outside of a few meals and treats, I don't know anything about what my ancestors ate. Luckily, my dad has been doing some research on this and is going to find the old cookbooks! I cannot wait to touch these old recipes and try to make them. Hopefully I'll be able to share these meals with social media platforms, too. The recipes will be kept secret, as to honor my great great grandma and all of the family cooks that came before and after her, but I would like to share details and fun tidbits about Slovakian and German food with the world.

Just like a lot of people who enjoy making (and eating) food, I know a hearty amount of how to Italian food as well as French food, but outside of pierogi and stuffed cabbage, most people know very little about Eastern European food, and even less about Slovak food. I want to bring back these old recipes and share their significance. After all, food is a huge part of our identities, consciously or subconsciously, and the more we know about our food, the more we know about ourselves and the world around us.

----

I just want to emphasize how wonderful it is to be alive and thriving. In the rather terrible breakup I experienced a few months ago, I had reached a point where I was planning on killing myself. I felt so much pain that I thought death would be the only way to stop the lurching, nauseating, ineffable jabs and stabs of being abandoned, lied to, and betrayed. But I made a tough decision and moved my life back to Columbus, a place I thought I was done living in for good, to stay with my friends so I could regroup and recover.

Honestly I'm so happy and grateful for their kindness and hospitality. It's literally saved me. I turned away from Colorado and suicidal thoughts and haven't considered them since. I found a job working as a cook in an upscale kitchen, learning kitchen basics, knife skills, and pouring myself into food, my love language. I usually don't deal with a ton of constant stress very well, but with food it's different because I actually love the medium I'm working with, which makes the hard work worth it. I'm drumming up many different possibilities for the future in short and long term goals, independent of anyone else. I want to find a job in a kitchen or bakery that encourages creativity and expressive flavors, but will continue to learn basic skills where I am at (a place that brought me on with no professional culinary experience, which I'm grateful for). In the next two years or so, I will be prepping for the next big stage of my life: grad school. My dream school is NYU; they have a phenomenal Food Studies program that balances classes in historical food history and policy with the present day issues and innovations, which is exactly what I'm looking for. Other options are Boston University's Gastronomy degree, and a handful of universities across the pond that offer Geography degrees with room to customize your area of study.

I'm looking to continue working full time and maybe take a class or two at a local college to brush up on academia and continue to fund my future endeavors and the life I'm making for myself here in Columbus.

I've also taken up dance classes. I'm taking modern dance and it's almost a form of therapy. Just to let yourself be totally free and fluid and let things go, to be floppy and loose and use the angles and curves of my body to create art is so so good and influential on body and mind healing. I've found body peace after so very very long, and I feel so free. Yes I am curvy. Yes I am pear shaped and have difficulty finding slender pear body shaped in media to relate to, but that doesn't mean that my body's shape is invalid. It's beautiful and unique and gives a fresh perspective and face to dancing the way I do. I love that.

I'm also going to be taking up swing dance again. I danced in college but it's been almost five years since that and I'm a little rusty. But I remember how much fun it is and I really want to learn how to Lindy Hop! I started on the Charleston, and I can't wait to learn West Coast and Lindy. It's just a rockin' time and I feel like I can just let myself go and unleash my inner child again and spin and kick the night away. It'll also be a great place to rock the vintage circle skirts and soda fountain dresses I so love to wear.

Gosh -- I just have so much I'm excited for. These are just a few things in the present I'm a part of, and college is something in the future I'm looking forward to taking part in, but there are so many other endeavors I can't wait to be a part of. On the top of that list is music. I'm rubbing shoulders with a lot of people in the jazz scene, and have even been invited to be part of open mics and jam sessions. I sang in front of a stranger and did some improv on my flute and with singing, which I've never done before. I liked it! I can see myself becoming more confident and optimistic, and that makes me so joyful.

My other interests in the long term goals are to move to another big city and be part of programs that make the arts accessible to everyone, not just the financially elite. I want to see classical music continue to thrive, but not just with rich white folks. I want to see it go through a renaissance but I think it's imperative to get everyone from all walks of life and backgrounds involved and interested.

Along the same vein, I really want to find a way to make good, healthy food accessible to everyone. Wholesome food shouldn't only be for the affluent. If we could offer approachable and accessible classes to people on how to make healthy easy food, on how to grow their own food, either at home or in community gardens, I feel like we could start to shift food security and food policy.

----------

I could keep going but I've already written a novel. I guess that goes to show how exuberant my life and my future look. I am so unabashedly passionate and expressive and I love it! Like I really, really love it. Life is so beautiful and multifaceted and full of potential and opportunities. Sometimes life also plunges you to deep dark dismal depths, but thank god for friends who genuinely care and love you enough to help you see through the darkness. God there are no words that can express my level of gratitude for the intentional, expressive, compassionate human beings in my life that have helped me get to where I am today. Thank you will never be enough, but hopefully my actions and my endeavors will speak louder than my thank yous ever could.

#personal #life update

17 notes · View notes

moondancewrites · 6 years

Text

S.O.S. - Chapter 4

Pairing: Lance Tucker x Evelyn Burns (OC)

Warnings: None. Just some flirting.

Summary: Evelyn Burns’ life is turned upside down when her sister and brother-in-law are killed in a car crash and she becomes the legal guardian of her 13 year-old niece Hannah. The one thing that will get Hannah through is continuing her work as a gymnast, so Evelyn takes it upon herself to find her the best coach in town. Enter Lance Tucker, a scandal-ridden scoundrel yet brilliant coach who has been laying low in Florida where he owns his own gym. He’s everything Evelyn hates about men and she is the polar opposite of what he looks for in a good lay, but when they’re forced to spend time together they realize that maybe they are just what the other needs.

The time Evelyn had been dreading was upon her: the holidays. Rachel had always loved the holidays. She’d gone out of her way to make sure everyone was well fed, entertained, happy. At least that’s what Evelyn remembered; she hadn’t come to a gathering the last few years Rachel was alive.

She was so nervous about Hannah. Would she even want to celebrate? She seemed to be doing well, but Thanksgiving was her first big holiday without her parents. Should Evelyn do something, she wondered? She wasn’t much of a cook, but she could try. Or should she just let it be? Would it be a comfort to Hannah to celebrate or would it stir up old feelings? What if it made her break down? Evelyn hadn’t seen her break down yet - not fully. There were a few nights in the beginning, late at night, when she heard whimpers from her room but she was too chicken shit to go in and comfort her; she didn’t know what to say.

It was the Saturday before Thanksgiving when Evelyn blurted out on the way to practice, “Do you want a Thanksgiving?” Hannah’s head turned up from her phone and Evelyn panicked. “I mean like Turkey and stuff. I’ve never really done it, but if you want-”

“You don’t have to,” Hannah said with a sigh.

“I know I don’t have to, but I was just thinking ... it might be nice. I don’t know. Your mom always used to-”

“Really, it’s okay. I shouldn’t eat that stuff anyway.”

“Is that what coach Tucker is telling you?” Evelyn fumed. “Because he shouldn’t be. You’re a growing girl. You’re active. You look great, too. You should be able to have some damn cranberry sauce and sweet potatoes if you want to!”

“Whoa, auntie. Calm down,” Hannah said with a laugh. “If you want to do Thanksgiving, then you can do it.”

“Oh ….” Evelyn loosened her vice grip on the steering wheel. “Okay, then.”

“Is Ben going to come?”

“I don’t think so. He’s out of town on business.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Hannah said with an eyeroll.

“Hey, he works hard, you know. He’s doing all he can to provide for us.”

“Auntie,” Hannah shot her a look. “You and I both know that you work hard enough to provide for both of us times three. And you don’t even need to, considering the inheritance grandmama and grandpapa left you.”

“How do you -” Evelyn’s mouth was agape.

“Mom told me. She said I should be grateful to them for helping pay for all of my lessons after dad lost his job.”

“Oh ….”

“Yeah. So I know you don’t really need to work if you don’t want to.”

“Well,” Evelyn shifted in her seat after they pulled into the parking lot at the gym. “Just because we have that money doesn’t mean that Ben doesn’t need to work hard. His work is like gymnastics to you. He doesn’t need it to survive, but he’s good at it and he enjoys it and it makes him happy. Just like my work.”

“I still don’t get what you do,” Hannah said with a little chuckle.

“I’m the VP of strategic analysis-”

“For global planning and acquisition,” Hannah said with her in unison in the same tone as Evelyn, as if she’d heard it a few times. Maybe she had.... “I know… but I still don’t get it.”

“It’s complicated,” Evelyn said plainly.

“Are you staying for practice today?” Hannah said with a hopeful smile. Evelyn had been making an effort to stay a bit longer each week - kind of easing herself into it. She knew that she’d lose Hannah if she didn’t at least try to show an interest in her favorite thing.

It wasn’t easy, especially with those moms. All they did was gossip about stuff around town and stare at Lance Tucker’s ass. Evelyn did her best to ignore them, often bringing some weekend work or a book to distract her, but it wasn’t easy; especially when Lance would come and talk to her. He would always have something to say, even if it was really nothing. It was as if he enjoyed seeing Evelyn get worked up by his ridiculousness. And she could feel the impaling glares from the moms, like arrows in her back.

For Hannah, Evelyn would chant to herself. For Hannah.

“Yes, I think I’ll stay.”

“Awesome! Because I want to show you my new trick Lance taught me this week. It’s really cool! He said I’m the youngest student he’s ever seen do it!”

“A trick, huh? What kind of trick?”

“You’ll see,” Hannah beamed.

It was in the middle of rehearsal that Lance knocked on the glass to get Evelyn’s attention. She was sitting in the corner working on a spreadsheet and didn’t notice him until he knocked again. “YO. Evelyn!” Her head shot up. “Watch this, okay?” Evelyn looked around sheepishly; all the moms had taken notice. She nodded and Lance turned around. “Okay, Hannah. Show time.”

Hannah got up on the uneven bars and did twists and turns and flips like Evelyn had never seen. It was so effortless for her, but it almost made Evelyn dizzy watching her. But it was awe-inspiring, that was for sure. When Hannah stuck the landing, Lance ran up to her and gave her a big hug, spinning her around. “That’s how it’s done!” He gave her a double high five and turned to Evelyn. “Did you see that?” Evelyn nodded, beaming at her niece.

After practice, Hannah approached her aunt with caution as if she had a question she was scared to hear the answer to. “What is it?” she asked.

“I was just wondering. I was talking to Coach Tucker about Thanksgiving and-”

“Did he say you can’t have any turkey? I’m going to sock him in that stupid hard stomach of his,” Evelyn said, stepping in Lance’s direction.

“No, no. It’s not that. I was just telling him about it. And telling him about how we used to have all these people over and it was a big thing and that this year it was just going to be us probably. And he said that he wasn’t doing anything but he was happy we were.” He was happy, huh? “And then I said … well, I kind of invited him.”

“You did what?” Evelyn’s eyes widened and Hannah frowned.

“Please, auntie? He’s all alone down here.”

“Doesn’t he have Yasmine? Or Gigi or Bianca or whoever his flavor or the week is?” You’d tried not to take notice of the women you saw him joining up with after practice on some nights, but they were just so … obvious.

“C’mon, auntie. He’s lonely. And he’s like … my uncle.” What about Ben? Evelyn thought. In the last four months that Hannah had been living with them, they’d probably spent about a month of that in Ben’s company. She spent way more time with Lance. But her uncle? Really? Evelyn shook her head. Hannah’s hopeful face seared her heart. How could she refuse?

“As long as he doesn’t make any remarks on how fatty the food is,” Evelyn said. Hannah jumped on her, giving her a hug.

“Coach Tucker!” Hannah called. “She said it’s okay! See you thursday?”

Evelyn heard some of the moms whispering as Lance approached them with a smile that was very out of character for him - it was sheepish. Wonderful. Now everyone knew who was coming to dinner.

“Hannah, I told you not to bother,” Lance said, shaking his head at her.

“But it’s cool, isn’t it, aunt Evelyn?”

“Yeah. I mean, one turkey is a lot for two people to eat,” she answered.

“What about the fiance?” Lance asked.

“I told you, coach … he’s away on business,” Hannah said.

“Right, right,” Lance said, nodding. “Alright then. What time should I come and what should I bring?”

“You don’t have to bring anything,” Evelyn said, almost taken aback by the kind gesture.

“Well, I know I don’t have to. But I want to. It’s what guests do. How about dessert? I make some delicious lemon bars.”

“Let me guess - low fat?” Evelyn quipped.

“No, they’re dripping in fat,” Lance said to her; a snarky tone in his voice. “I’m not a food Nazi, you know.” Evelyn rolled her eyes.

“Fine. Bring your bars. Dinner with be at 3.”

“Perfect. See you then, Hannah.”

As they were leaving, Jeanie’s friend, whom Evelyn learned was called Tracy a few weeks back, came up to her. “How did you get coach Tucker to come to dinner at your place? We’ve all been trying at every holiday and no luck.” Evelyn just shrugged and said she didn’t know before getting out of there as fast as possible.

This stirred up curiousity in Evelyn. Why did he say yes? And why hadn’t he said yes to these women before? It’s not like he didn’t love being gawked at. And, Evelyn learned, a few of them were single and definitely on the prowl. But yet he said no. So why now was he saying yes? Maybe he was doing it for Hannah. Maybe he saw how hard this was going to be on her and he thought a familiar, friendly face would help. Or maybe he knew it would put Evelyn on edge. Maybe he was doing it to see just how far he could push her buttons before she finally blew up at him. Maybe he was doing it because he liked watching her squirm. Evelyn pushed down those notions and decided that supporting Hannah was his main reason. She’d have to go with that, or else she’d cancel the whole thing.

The day had come. Evelyn had gone into high-power planning mode the last few days and now everything was set. The table looked perfect, the turkey smelled amazing, the potatoes were nearly done. Hannah had been such a great help, too. The two of them truly felt like … family.

“You look nice, auntie,” Hannah told her as she came back into the kitchen after getting ready. Hannah sounded disappointed. She had wanted her to wear the pretty forest green dress that she’d found in her closet the other day when she was helping her plan her outfit, even though Evelyn insisted she didn’t need to. She’d already decided to wear her black dress with the high neckline. It was kind of plain, but it was comfortable and it went nicely with her pearls. Honestly, if her hair had been straight she’d look like it was just another day at the office. But Evelyn decided that since Ben wasn’t going to be there, she didn’t need to put in the extra effort to straighten her hair. So she left it curly, pinning one side back.

“Thanks,” she told her.

“Black … again.”

“Yeah, well … I like this dress.”

“I know, auntie, but that other dress makes your eyes look so pretty and-”

“I’m not trying to look pretty,” Evelyn retorted. Hannah’s gaze moved to the floor. “You look nice, too,” she told her. Hannah was wearing a pretty floral dress and a cardigan. She looked like a young lady.

Ding dong.

“Coach Tucker is here!” Hannah jumped off the couch, running to the door. Evelyn busied herself in the kitchen, putting an apron on over her dress before she went to baste the turkey one last time. After closing the oven and turning around, she was met by her niece and Lance, who was wearing dark blue slacks and a baby blue sweater that looked way too soft. The shades were gone, as was a good amount of the hair gel. He’d only used enough to keep it in place. He looked, regrettably, incredibly handsome.

“Happy turkey day, Mrs. Cleaver,” he said with a gigantic grin.

“Mrs. Cleaver?”

“Yeah, you know. From Leave it to Beaver?”

“Yes … I know who she is,” Evelyn replied.

“Yeah, well …” he started. Evelyn just stared at him. “The pearls. The apron. The cooking. Come on …” He looked at Hannah. “She looks like Mrs. Cleaver.”

“No idea who you’re talking about,” Hannah said, walking over to get a cup of water with a little bounce in her step.

“What I - what I meant to say was … You look ….”

“Like a stereotype,” Evelyn quipped, flattening her palms over her apron. Same old Lance, she thought. She knew this was a bad idea.

“No … you lo- ...you looked nice,” he choked out. “I have the bars.” He held out a foil-covered glass dish to her.

“Thanks,” she said plainly, taking them and placing them on the counter with a thunk. She could feel Lance beside her - he was too close. She could smell his cologne. She hated how good it smelled.

“I’m sorry. Sometimes my filter … I’m sorry, okay?” He lowered his head so he could look up at her, trying to catch her gaze. He made a puppy dog face and Evelyn nibbled on her bottom lip to keep from smiling. He noticed, and he smiled at her. “C’mon, Evelyn … I’m sorry. You look great.”

“It’s fine,” she said, flashing her eyes towards his only for a moment. “I’ve got to get this turkey out. Hannah, can you get the wine out that I told you about?” Hannah’s eyes lit up. “And the sparkling cider for you?” Her eyes dimmed.

“Yes, auntie,” she said with a pout.

“While we’re alone,” Lance said softly. Evelyn’s breath caught in her throat. “I wanted to run something by you.”

“Wha-what’s that?” she asked, trying to focus on getting the potatoes into the serving dish.

“I was wondering if you’d be interested in chaperoning a trip after the new year. There’s a competition up in Orlando and I need a few parents … or guardians … with me to watch the kids.”

“Oh, I don’t think I could take the time off work,” Evelyn said.

“Couldn’t you?” he asked, leaning in again. The seemingly soft fabric was of sweater was, indeed, incredibly soft as it brushed against her arm. “When was the last time you took a vacation?”

Honestly, Evelyn couldn’t remember. It was probably right after she started dating Ben, and that was years ago.

“I have my honeymoon coming up in May …” Even though it was going to be short, and Ben would technically be at a conference half the time.

“Oh.” Lance stepped back. “Right. But … this would be with Hannah. I think it would be a good bonding trip for you guys. And it’s in Disney World.” He took a bean from the plate and popped it in his mouth, smiling at her. “The most magical place on earth. Mmm. Good beans.”

“Disney World?” She’d avoided that place for as long as she’d lived in Florida. She’d never gone and she had no desire to. The crowds, the kids, the long lines, the heat, the kids … She really didn’t want to be around that many kids. Hannah was all she could handle, and she was a teenager, not a screaming baby.

“Yeah, you know…. Mickey, Splash Mountain, fireworks … “ he was leaning in again. “It’s fun. You’d love it.”

“If you think that, then you must not know me very well,” she said, looking up at him. He looked utterly bummed. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“It’d mean a lot to Hannah.”

“You haven’t mentioned this to her, have you?” she said in a loud whisper, pointing a potato covered ladle at him. He chuckled, shaking his head and holding his hands up in surrender.

“No. That’s why I’m asking you while she’s not here. Where did she go, anyway?”

“The wine cellar.”

“You have a wine cellar?” Lance’s eyes got wide. “Of course you do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Evelyn popped her hip. Lance noticed.

“Look, I just ...I think it would be good for you and Hannah. She’s gotten better since you started coming to practices. The fact that you’re embracing her passion … it’s making her better. If you came, she’d do better. She’d do amazing. And it would be fun.” Evelyn looked up at him. “You know… fun?” She glared. “Come with me.” He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, us. Come with us. We need you.” Evelyn sighed. “Honestly, I just need one mom … guardian … there that doesn’t act like I’m a piece of meat.” Evelyn blinked at his honesty. Lance made a face, almost as if he were ashamed. “Please come?”

“I’ll see if I can get time off work.” He beamed at her. That smile, she thought. He could make a lot of people do a lot of things with that smile.

“Excellent.” He clapped his hands together loudly. “Now! Anything I can do to help?” He asked, turning so his back was against the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest and even though the sweater wasn’t nearly as tight as the shirts he’d usually wear, his muscles still bulged beneath the soft blue fabric. Evelyn had to will herself not to look, but she couldn’t help but glance. Lance smirked at her. “Hmm?” he hummed.

“Actually …” Evelyn looked up at him with a hopeful smile. “I’m not really good at the whole carving bit.”

“I can do that,” he told her. “Got an extra apron?” Evelyn shook her head. “Do you mind if I borrow yours, then?” She shook her head again. Lance moved behind her, working on the knot at her back. He was dangerously closer to her ass, and it made Evelyn’s body heat go up a bit.

“I can do that, you know,” she told him. She felt his breathy laugh on the back of her neck and it gave her a shiver.

“I’ve got it,” he told her. He moved to stand in front of her, lifting the apron over her head. She felt his fingers brush against her curls. He smiled, dawning the apron. “How do I look?”

“Just like June Cleaver,” she quipped. Lance’s jaw dropped in jest. “Your turkey awaits.” She motioned to the turkey.

“Alright, baby. Time to get carved,” he said to the turkey, licking his lips while the scraped the fork against the knife as if he were sharpening the blade. Evelyn couldn’t help but laugh at him. And once he started, she couldn’t help but laugh at the terrible job he was doing; he wasn’t good at everything after all.

“Oh my God, Lance. What are you doing?”

“What?” he chuckled, slicing a huge piece of meat off the turkey leg.

“You don’t slice the leg!” Evelyn laughed.

“Maybe I do,” he said. “Now shh, let me work.” His tongue moved over his top lip; his brow furrowed in concentration. Evelyn leaned against the counter now, her hand covering her mouth as she stifled a laugh. “Stop laughing,” he said, pointing the knife at her.

“Watch where you point that thing!” she said with a laugh. He sheepishly pulled it back. “Here, give it to me.” She grabbed for them, but Lance pulled out of her reach.

“Uh-uh. This is my job. I’ve been given this task and I will execute it with perfection.”

“I think you’ve strayed far away from that,” Evelyn teased. Lance glared at her, his blue eyes staring into her green ones. “C’mon. Let me show you.” Evelyn held out her hand.

“Didn’t you just say you weren’t good at this?” he said to her. She just stared at him. “Fine,” he groaned, handing her the knife and fork.

“Step aside,” she told him, shooing him with the knife. He did so, but he was still very close. “You’ve got to dig dip in there,” she said, going at the turkey. Lance covered his mouth this time. “Get your head out of the gutter.”

“Easier said than done,” he quipped. “Go on, Evelyn. Get in there. Nice and deep.” She knew he was teasing, but his tone was overtly sexual and it made Evelyn’s entire body get suddenly very warm. Again. He really needed to stop doing that. “That’s it,” he teased. “Show that turkey who’s-” Some juice from the turkey squirted right onto Evelyn’s dress. “Oh shit.”

“My dress!” Evelyn dropped the knife and fork. She glared at Lance. “You’re still wearing my apron.” Lance shrugged, biting his lower lip.

“Sorry. Do you have any baking soda?”

“What?” Evelyn asked, trying to find a cloth to dab at the stain.

“Baking soda. It will help. Trust me.” Evelyn motioned to the cabinet and Lance got it out, opening it and sprinkling it on Evelyn’s stain, taking a cloth and dabbing it. It didn’t seem to cross his mind that the stain was right on her left breast.

“Whoa, whoa.” Evelyn pushed him back, grabbing the cloth. “I’ve got it.”

“Sorry.” Lance shook his head, as if he were disappointed in himself. And his cheeks looked red. Did Lance Tucker even know how to blush? Apparently so. “Where’s Hannah?”

“Is this the right wine, auntie?” Hannah called from the doorway. “Oh no! Your dress!”

“It’s fine,” Evelyn said.

“Wait … Coach Tucker, why are you wearing the apron?”

“I was carving … badly, it would seem,” the rolled on the balls of his foot, pushing his hands into the pockets of the apron. “Your aunt tried to teach me, but then the turkey got angry and attacked.”

“Ew …” Hannah grimaced.

“I’m going to finish carving, since I’m already a mess-”

“No, I’ve got it,” Lance told her. “You can go change. If you want to. I mean, you don’t have to.”

“No, I will,” Evelyn replied. She walked upstairs and into her walk-in closet. The green dress was there, practically shouting at her to put it on. Since she didn’t really have any other dressed picked out, she went with that one. The neck was a little lower than she was used to. The very tip of her cleavage showed, and she had ample cleavage. But it was tasteful. The skirt was a bit more flowy than she was used to, like it was meant for dancing. It came to right above her knee. After she put it on, she looked at herself in the mirror. Hannah was right, it did make her eyes pop.

“Who’s hungry?” she said as she descended the staircase. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Ben standing at the bottom, briefcase in hand. “Ben, what are you-”

“Whose car is that out in the driveway?” Ben asked, his voice strained.

“It’s …” Before she could answer, Ben walked towards the kitchen. Shit. Shit shit shit! Evelyn had neglected to mention that Lance was coming over. She thought it didn’t matter since he wasn’t going to be here. If she were being honest with herself, though, she didn’t mention it because she knew Ben would have refused and that would have broken Hannah’s heart.

Evelyn raced into the dining room after Ben. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” Ben said to Lance, who stood up.

“No. You must be Ben. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Lance.” Lance held his hand out to him.

“Lance …”

“Coach Tucker.” He was still holding his hand out, waiting for Ben to take it.

“Oh. Right. Well, I wasn’t aware the girls were having company over for dinner.” Ben shot Evelyn a look. She’d hear about that later. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“We’re surprised, alright,” Hannah said, taking a sip of her cider.

“Why don’t you go freshen up, dear? I’ll make a setting for you.” Evelyn rubbed Ben’s shoulder, trying to calm him. Hell, she was trying to calm herself. She was suddenly a bundle of nerves. This dinner was turning out to be a disaster.

“Thank you, darling,” he said to her, pushing his cheek towards her like he did when he expected a kiss. She obliged him, but in the corner of her eye she saw Lance mouth, ‘darling?’ to Hannah and stick his tongue out. Hannah laughed. Ben looked at her and she stopped. “I’ll be down in a moment. Please, go ahead without me …”

“Oh, no, man. We can wait,” Lance said.

“How kind,” Ben replied before disappearing upstairs.

“So … that’s Ben, huh?”

“Yes. That’s Ben. Why do you say it like that?” Evelyn inquired.

“Like what? I’m just saying … I never thought I’d meet the guy.”

“Well, you just did.”

“Auntie, you’re wearing the pretty dress. Isn’t it pretty, coach?” She could feel Lance’s eyes on her and she didn’t dare look up at him.

“Very,” he replied, as if it were totally normal to compliment one of your student’s parents like that.

“Thanks,” Evelyn said, looking up at him only for a moment. His eyes looked darker than they did earlier. It must have been the lighting.

To say that dinner was awkward was the understatement of the century. Ben was cordial, but Evelyn knew him well enough to know that he was a little more than upset that they had a guest he’d never met. A very charming, very handsome guest that was alone with his fiance and his ward, as he called Hannah.

When Ben asked Lance about himself, Evelyn held her breath. She knew enough to know that this could go badly, but she hoped that Lance wouldn’t say anything unsavory in front of Hannah.

“Not too much to tell, I guess.”

“I’m sure there is. You’re an ex gymnast, right?”

“Yeah,” Lance said after swallowing a bite of turkey.

“And I think Hannah told me that you’ve won a couple of medals, am I right?”

“A few. Two golds and two silvers.”

“So why did you stop?” Ben asked. “Too old to do those little flips?”

“I suppose,” Lance replied cooley. “My hamstrings and I got into too many disagreements. So, I decided to pursue coaching. I have a lifetime of knowledge to pass down to kids like Hannah, here.” He motioned to Hannah and she beamed at him. She really did think the world of him, Evelyn thought. She prayed that Hannah never found out about his past … if she didn’t already know. Olivia had probably heard it from her mom and she was sure Olivia had passed it on. Or maybe she hadn’t. She really hoped not.

“Well, that’s noble of you. I guess it’s true what they say, huh?” Lance shot him a questioning look. “Those who can’t do, teach.” Evelyn tensed, expecting Lance to reply with something colorful or even blow up at him.

“I guess so,” Lance replied. After a moment of struggling to catch his gaze, Evelyn found it. She tried to say sorry without words, and Lance nodded at her, giving her a small smile. Ben was being such an asshole and she felt terrible about it. Lance was taking it in stride, though. That surprised her. “This turkey is really amazing, Evelyn.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “Ben, do you like it?”

“A little too moist for my taste,” Ben said. Evelyn heard Lance bite back a laugh. She nudged him with her foot under the table. Leave it to Tucker to be totally calm and cool when someone was insulting him, but lose it when somebody made an unintentional sexual innuendo. Lance nudged her back and she glared at him. He gave her a little wink and she held her breath, praying that Ben didn’t notice.

“I think it’s great, auntie,” Hannah said. Ben looked at Hannah. “I mean, aunt Evelyn.” Ben thought the word ‘auntie’ was too childish for a teenager to use. And unladylike.

“What is it that you do, Ben?” Lance asked. Oh great … here we go, Evelyn thought. Ben went on for ten minutes about his job, using unnecessarily big words to try to confuse Lance. But Lance didn’t falter. He listened intently, or at least he feigned interest. Either way, he shocked her.

When Hannah and Lance talked excitedly about her progress, Evelyn sat and listened while Ben went to his phone. “Ben, come on… it’s Thanksgiving.”

“I know. I’m here, aren’t I? I just have to answer this email.”

“Fine,” she said defeatedly. “I’m going to go get the dessert. Lance, will you help me?”

“All you need to do is-” he stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. “Yeah. Coming.” He got up and followed her into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, Lance. I had no idea he was coming.”

“What? It’s fine.” Lance shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve got a real winner, there.”

“He’s just … on edge. He wasn’t expecting you. And for you to be …” Evelyn motioned to Lance. “You.”

“What do you mean for me to be me?” Lance asked, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. He stepped closer to Evelyn, reaching for the tinfoil of the dish.

“I just mean that if you came home to your fiance having dinner with a man that you’d never met and that man looked like you, wouldn’t you feel a bit insecure?”

“A man that looks like me …” the smile widened.

“Oh, cut the crap, Lance,” Evelyn groaned, ripping the tin foil. “You’re fully aware of how you look.”

“I am.” He took one step closer, his gaze searing into Evelyn from above her. “I just wasn’t aware that you were … aware.”

“Well,” Evelyn pulled back and started putting the lemon bars on a serving plate. “That’s because you’re not my type.”

“No?” he asked.

“Definitely not.”

“I guess that’s not surprising, seeing as you’re engaged to Mr. Roboto out there.” Her brow furrowed. “You know, you’re going to go blind from glaring at me so much.”

“Well, maybe if you’d stop saying things that piss me off we wouldn’t have a problem!” She took a lemon square and bit into it. Suddenly, the anger she had subsided as she was whisked away onto a perfect cloud of lemony goodness. She closed her eyes, humming.

“Good, huh?” he asked. She opened her eyes to find him smiling at her. “Told you they were delicious.” He popped one in his mouth, humming in response. Her body felt hot again, but she was sure it was the anger this time. That’s all it was.

“They’re okay.”

“Ha! Liar … you love them.”

“I don’t.”

“You do,” he teased, stepping closer to her again. ��“Admit it. You love my bars.” She blinked at him. “C’mon …” he motioned with his hand. “Admit it.”

“They’re … fine.”

“Fine? No. My chocolate chip cookies are fine. My lemon bars are divine.”

“Fine …. They’re really good.” Lance made a triumphant gesture with his fist. “Okay? Happy?”

“Very. Now, let’s see if these will make Ben smile.”

Spoiler alert. They didn’t. But, dessert meant the night was almost over and that made everyone happy. After dessert, Lance made an excuse that he had to be up early tomorrow for practice. When Hannah said she thought the gym was closed, he let out a nervous laugh and said he was going because the gym was being cleaned and he had to be there. Quick thinking, Evelyn thought. She knew it was a lie, but she didn’t blame him. She wanted out, too.

She thanked him for coming. Hannah gave him a hug. Ben gave him a sturdy handshake. And then he was gone.

“Well, that was … interesting,” Hannah said. “I’m going to bed.”

“It’s 4:30,” Evelyn replied.

“What I meant was, I’m going to my room. They’re having a marathon of all the Friends Thanksgiving episodes.”

“You know the role, Hannah. Only one hour of TV a night,” Ben told her.

“C’mon, Ben. It’s a holiday.” Evelyn pleaded with him with her eyes.

“Fine. But after the last episode, no more.”

“Yes, sir.”

Evelyn braced herself for a tirade. But Ben was unexpectedly calm. In fact, he was too calm. And too quiet. He barely said a word to her before he excused himself to go to bed, saying his jetlag was catching up with him. Once he was gone, Evelyn went upstairs to ask Hannah to come down and join her for the Friends marathon.

“You okay, aunt Evelyn?” she asked after a while.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, Ben didn’t know about coach Tucker …”

“No.”

“He seemed pretty pissed about it. Did he yell at you?”

“No. Why would you-”

“It’s just that sometimes I can hear him yell at you,” Hannah said softly. “And I hear you yell back.”

“Hannah …” Evelyn had no idea that Hannah heard them. Were they that loud? And did they fight that much? She felt awful.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” She got up. “I can go back upstairs now.”

“No, please stay,” Evelyn pleaded, patting the couch. “It’s Thanksgiving … we should be with family.”

“Okay,” Hannah said with a small smile, sitting beside her. “I liked having coach Tucker over. Even if it was kind of a disaster.”

“Me, too.”

#lance tucker #lance tucker fan fiction #Sebastian stan #Sebastian stan fan fiction

81 notes · View notes

wineanddinosaur · 4 years

Text

VinePair Podcast: How Craft Beer Can Thrive in the Pandemic

Covid-19 has presented real challenges for all segments of the alcohol industry, but perhaps the area most dramatically affected has been craft beer. Breweries that largely sold their beer through their own taprooms and other on-premise locations have had to pivot quickly — bottling and canning their beers and attempting to find space on crowded store shelves — while certain styles of beer that rely on extreme freshness have required a bit of rethinking.

That’s the topic for this week’s VinePair Podcast, as Adam Teeter, Erica Duecy, and Zach Geballe take a look at the state of the craft beer industry, discussing how breweries can continue to create communities even with limitations on in-person consumption, as well as other strategies for long-term survival.

Listen online

Listen on Apple Podcasts

Listen on Spotify

Or check out our conversation here

Adam: From VinePair’s New York City headquarters, I mean my apartment in Brooklyn, New York. I’m Adam Teeter.

Erica: From Jersey City, I’m Erica Duecy.

Zach: And from the satellite campus in Seattle, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe.

A: And this is the VinePair podcast. I really did want to say VinePair’s New York City Headquarters, even though they’re still closed.

Z: I mean, it might as well be the headquarters at this point.

A: No, because that would also be Keith’s apartment, and Josh’s, and Danielle’s, and Erica’s. It would be everybody’s, it’s crazy. There’s one room I’m sitting in in my house that really does feel like it just has been taken over by VinePair, and I think Naomi’s getting really sick of that. I’m really excited about today’s topic but first, as always, we have to shout out to the sponsors. This week’s podcast is brought to you by Wild Turkey 101. Wild Turkey 101 is the high-proof bourbon ideal for enjoying classic cocktails how they were intended to be when they were invented. Aged longer for more character and using the same recipe since 1942, Wild Turkey 101 adds flavor and body to the Old Fashioned, the number one consumer cocktail. Never compromise, drink responsibly. Wild Turkey Kentucky Straight Bourbon whiskey, 50.5-percent ABV, 101 proof, copyright 2020 Campari America, New York, New York. Have to love that legal language at the end. I think Wild Turkey is a pretty delicious bourbon.

E: Yeah, it is good. I agree.

Z: Yeah. We’ve been running some cool “top lists” of whiskeys and Wild Turkey’s one of those, it’s not that expensive, it makes a great cocktail. It’s not, maybe, the thing that I would turn to absolutely first to just sip on its own, but in a cocktail and Old Fashioned — definitely delicious.

A: Wild Turkey 101 makes awesome cocktails. Speaking of drinks, let’s talk about what you guys are drinking this week.

Z: Tied into today’s theme, to some extent, I’ve been drinking a lot of craft beer, but a specific brewery because it fits my inactive lifestyle very well. I interviewed Bill Shufelt, who’s the founder of Athletic Brewing, which has focused on non-alcoholic beers and I’ve been drinking a lot of Free Wave, it’s a double hop IPA. I have tried a lot of non-alc beers running beverage programs, you end up buying and tasting them because at least I took that part of my job seriously, but it’s actually pretty convincingly beer. I find their hoppier styles are more beer, I guess it’s just that delivery of bitterness and aromatics that I appreciate. I’ve been drinking that, it fits that “I need something that’s more interesting to drink than water at 3:30, but I still have to deal with my son when he wakes up from his nap” part of my life.

A: I’m so interested. I have to say you’re now the second person who told me you actually think it’s good. Athletic Brewing, if you’re listening, you can send it to myself and Erica, because I’m super suspect. I’ve listened to their ads on tons of other podcasts, I think, and what I’ve always thought was really interesting is they’ve never really advertised alcohol. I hear them a lot on tech podcasts, “Do you want to get up in the morning and be able to do your presentation? If so, drink Athletic.” And I’ve always wondered if it’s any good. Cat also says it’s very good. I actually feel I need to try it now because you are now the second person who said, “Yeah, it’s not beer, but for a beer replacement it’s very good.”

Z: I would say it’s beer. What’s interesting, I think to me, is where I noticed that it doesn’t have the alcohol is halfway through the beer when I don’t feel any of the buzz. If I’m drinking a double IPA normally, it’s seven, eight, nine-percent alcohol, a lot of times. And by the time I’m halfway through a can or something, I can kind of feel it. It’s sort of weird, I don’t necessarily mind, it’s kind of nice too, to have the beer and not have the effect. But it is true that, as we talk about on this podcast, we do drink alcohol for the effect. And so I’m not saying I’ve given up alcohol, but it is nice. It gives me something more interesting to drink than water or something along those lines, if I’m not ready for it yet, more coffee. It’s a nice kind of alternative in the afternoon. I don’t drink it all day, every day but it’s a nice alternative.

E: Nice. I was really excited yesterday to be on the phone with Heather Green, who is the CEO and master blender of Milam & Greene Whiskey. She is based out of Texas, but they are now working, with a master distiller on their team at Marlene Holmes, who was at Jim Beam for her entire career. Man this whiskey, they just nationally released last night, it’s the Milam & Greene Triple Cask Strength bourbon whiskey, it’s fantastic. I was totally blown away and it’s so cool to see a woman owned and led whiskey company doing such great work. They’re a young company, so they are sourcing some of their juice but they’re also distilling in Texas and Kentucky, as well as finishing other whiskeys. I tried this, it was so smooth and a 94 proof spirit, it had such a kind of presence and depth to the character. I was totally floored.

A: There’s nothing specific that I’m super excited about this week like I was with the Negronis. I will say that over the past week, I’ve drunk a few things. One is, I did go back to Heaven Hill Bourbon, the Seven Year Old, which is a pretty delicious overproof. And I had that last night while watching the debate and cheering on the fly.

Z: Did you drink the whole bottle?

A: No. I think this debate was basically what they’re supposed to be, which is normal. Except that, one of the candidates lied a lot and evaded questions, but besides that, it was a pretty standard debate. There wasn’t as much of a desire for me to feel I needed to just down an entire bottle of bourbon. Also, I think I would not feel great afterwards. And then last weekend — gosh, it’s so weird that with corona it all blends together — I will say I actually had a terrible bottle of wine. I’m not going to name the producer, but I want to talk about what happened. And I want to get your opinion. We were at one of my favorite restaurants. I don’t want to talk about them because I think the food is amazing, I think this was the server’s fault. But it was Naomi’s birthday, and we haven’t been going out, but it was her birthday. We’re going to go out for dinner. We had outdoor seats, all this stuff. And I knew that this restaurant had lost their wine person a long time ago, and that basically it’s a hodgepodge of people buying the wines: The chef, manager, et cetera. And I know because of where we are in Brooklyn, it’s been leaning very dirty, natural — not just natural, but dirty natural. And so there were two wines we were looking at and Naomi said she really wanted a red. Not a bigger red, but something that had some nice acidity that would go really well with all the food, and it was Mediterranean. There was this Pinot Noir from Baden. And so I asked them about that bottle and they were like, “Oh, it’s really funky, totally grungy dirt.” And we say no and ask about this Nero d’Avola and she was like, “Oh, this is perfect. It’s classic Nero d’Avola and is one of our bestselling bottles. It pairs perfectly with all the food.” And I’m like cool. So she basically described the wine as being classic. So the bottle comes out and she pours me a taste. And I literally looked at Naomi and, if I didn’t know that this was natural, I would say that there was something wrong with it. Because it, of course, was natural and it was the dirtiest, just riddled with faults, and it was totally unpleasant to drink. But at this point we were just like whatever, screw it, I don’t know what else to do. And so we drank it. And it was not fun. The faults were so clear, and it was so off-putting that it kind of ruined that part of the meal. There were other parts that were great, we had a really nice glass prior that was delicious, as a way to toast her birthday. But whose misunderstanding was it here? And I didn’t want to get into it with her and say, “Hey, basically you made this sound like this was a totally conventional bottle of wine, but this is actually very dirty and natty and not a good wine, because there are natural wines that I do like but this is definitely not one of them.” And so that’s why we just drank it, because we didn’t know how to handle this situation. And we were just going to take one for the team and drink the wine. And of course when we looked at the import on the back, it was some importer we’d never heard of before based in Bushwick.

E: That’s a challenge. I mean, Zach, from the professional perspective of someone who’s worked on the floor a lot, what would you have recommended?

Z: Oh my God. This whole story made me almost break out in hives. I understand your general approach of “take one for the team,” but as a wine director, nothing can make me sadder than hearing customers talk that way. Especially when you’re out celebrating your wife’s birthday. Obviously these times, most people are not going out all the time. I would have loved for you to have said, “This is not what we’re looking for,” and again, restaurants are different and there are different approaches to this. From a restaurant side, I would just, graciously as I could, take that bottle back and say, “Hey, we get it. We’re saying sorry. Let’s try and find you something else. ”It’s hard for me, because I never ran a program where a lot of the wines we were selling were faulted. So I’m not really familiar with how you convince someone that a wine that’s flawed is good. I just tried to sell good wine. And that’s still a subjective thing, and different people have different tastes, but if a wine had an obvious fault and we opened it, it was of course going back. I was sending it back to the distributor and trying to walk a line there. What I would say is that, yeah maybe the server’s not super knowledgeable, but in the end, if they’re recommending food to you and it sucks — “Oh, we don’t have anything spicy,” and they bring out something that’s loaded with spice — that’s not your fault, you don’t take that one for the team. You don’t have an incrementally unpleasant dining experience because they did a s***** job. No, you tell them, “Look, this is super spicy. We don’t want it. We want something mild.” If you want something super spicy and they bring out something bland as hell that’s not your fault, that’s the server’s fault and the restaurant’s fault. They should be able to communicate to you the basics about the wine program. And if you say, “Hey, we don’t want funky, dirty wine,” either they can say, “Well, unfortunately, we don’t have anything that meets your needs.” You can decide what you want to do then. Or they can bring you a wine that isn’t funky and dirty. I would just say they failed. And I totally understand not wanting to be the person who says “excuse me,” but, all of you listening out there, be the person who says “excuse me.” Restaurants want you to leave happy, not to go on your podcast the next week.

A: True. I mean, there was so much there. We’ve talked about this before, about us realizing what a privilege it is to be dining out, and I was also thinking about the server and how she may not want to be there, but she is. And I’m not going to be the person that does this right now, but it sucked. I get that there is that movement. And now there also is this weird thing where it’s “what can you trust?” Because if it says Nero d’Avola, and it’s from the area where I know it’s going to usually be very good in Sicily, I was going to assume it was what I thought we would want. And when she said it was typical. Do you know what typical narrow Nero d’Avola tastes like? Or have you only tasted very natty ones at this restaurant? Which also then becomes hard, because then you have the issue of what is the word typical? I would say the word typical is what the majority of people would agree is what the grape tastes like. Not what a few people at some super hipster places think the grape tastes like. It was a bummer because even Naomi — she’s the one in the relationship that loves the natural wines more than I do — even she tasted something bad.

Z: And in the end, that’s the problem. That should not be your experience walking away from a drink or a meal, being like, “This was bad.” That’s hopefully not what anyone’s aiming for.

E: That sucks.

A: Let’s talk about the state of craft beer, because it’s craft beer month at VinePair and we’ve devoted a large amount of our content for the month of October to the world of American craft beer — which has been a very exciting world of beverage for quite a long time. Within the last decade, prior to 2020, it was really a massive boom time. Every year, hundreds if not thousands of new craft breweries were opening across the country. But now, it seems that of all three of the areas of alcohol, the one that’s being the most impacted by Covid is craft beer. It also seems, all of a sudden, maybe there’s a little bit less interest in craft beer than they’re used to. So we thought it’d be fun if we chatted about this area, and what we think is really happening in craft beer right now. What’s exciting, and what needs a little bit of a jolt to become more exciting.

E: From my perspective, I will be the first to say that craft beer, or any beer, is not my area of expertise, so where I can help is providing some statistics. According to the IWS, craft beer is down 12 to 15 percent overall for the first half of this year. That is largely because of the many on-premise closures and capacity restrictions. When you think about the different categories, craft beer, especially, is focused on-premise. Bart Watson, the chief economist for the Brewers Association, says on-premise sales account for about 45 percent of craft beer volume before Covid-19, about half. Without that channel, we are seeing the off-premise sales up between 11 and 16 percent, according to Nielsen data, during the Covid affected period. But that doesn’t cancel out the widespread losses from sales at bars and restaurants. That’s kind of the bigger picture that we’re looking at here.And there’s been a lot of challenges for craft brewers who are looking to pivot into canning from what they’ve previously been doing — kegs for example — which is tough, operationally. If you’re not set up for a high volume of canning, you may have to rely on mobile canning lines that may only be available in higher-density areas. Not as much in rural areas. There’s been this ongoing aluminum can shortage. And that existed before the pandemic. But Covid has exacerbated that because of the growing demand for aluminum cans, not just in beer, but also in wine cans, seltzer, et cetera. So those are some of the challenges that craft beer brewers are facing right now.

Z: I think the other thing that goes along with what you’re saying, Erica, is for a lot of craft breweries, especially ones on the very, very small nanoscale, all the way up to the medium-sized craft breweries, much of their profit — not necessarily gross revenue, but profit — comes from a taproom. And in most of the places in the country, the best you’re able to offer is limited capacity, or your taproom was closed for some amount of time, or it’s still closed. You can have some limited outdoor seating, but maybe not nearly as much as what you had before. And every brewer and brewery-owner that I’ve talked to in this period points to this very real fact that the smaller you are, the more dependent you are on that often one location where you’re generating a whole lot of your revenue. And if it’s closed or even limited (and again, maybe people have been okay through the warmer months and as most of the country heads into fall and winter and outdoor seating is a lot more complicated, if it’s even an option), a lot of them are looking at real challenges to the central piece of their model. Along with that, I think is this other real central conceit to craft brewing, which is that for so long, the selling point for craft beer, along with of course the quality of the product, was the convivial nature of beer. We think of beer as this hyper-social beverage, even maybe more so than wine or spirits. And whether it’s in a brewery, at a beer bar, at a tailgate, all these ways of getting together and enjoying beer are greatly curtailed for most of us, if not completely off-limits. And beer may just have a harder time fitting into the existing models for consumption that we have, especially if it’s smaller scale and not readily available at the grocery store or online. You guys can listen to some of the interviews we’ve had and have coming up on the Next Round part of this feed, but there’s lots of interesting things going on where brewers are experimenting with ways to continue to keep that connection with their customers alive. But it’s more challenging, I think, for beer than anyone else.

A: I think this is interesting. Some of the points you’re raising, Zach, reinforce this theory that I have that’s a hot take. I think the biggest trend in craft beer of the past four to five years is the reason craft beer is suffering now. And that trend is the hazy, because for those beers, which are so amazing, freshness is key and limited supply is key. And so when you build a brewery that initially is all built not on distribution to grocery stores — which is where all of us wound up in the pandemic — we reencountered Lagunitas, which some of us hadn’t drunk in decades. Or we reencountered bear Bear Republic, or some of these other OG craft breweries. And if you relied on line culture — people who would be willing on a Saturday or Sunday morning to come and line up at the brewery and wait for the beer and then have that community that we talked about, and you relied on really being very, very vigilant when it came to shelf control (and that’s why a lot of retailers never wanted to stock some of these beers, because a lot of the breweries were actually really hard on the distributor who was really hard on the retail) it means that when a pandemic happens, people aren’t willing to wait in line and you’re not set up to know how to do delivery, because you haven’t had to do that in the past. I think a lot of breweries fell behind because they became known for this style of beer that is absolutely delicious. Cat jokes and says that I’m a “haze bro.” I love hazy beers. I think they’re delicious. But they’re harder to find. At least in the first two to three months, the grocery store that I went to had none of them besides Threes, and Threes is one of the exceptions. Shout out to them, their infrastructure, and the way that they do their business in New York City. A lot of people could learn from them. I think the way that they handle getting the beer still into all the larger retailers is pretty unique. But I think, for the most part, all those other breweries had a very hard time, and now the opposite has happened. Now they all flooded retail. We talked about the beers that we’ve all enjoyed during the pandemic, and Josh was saying he’s gotten to drink beers that he never would have gotten to be able to just walk down to the corner bodega and buy, because he would have had to go to the brewery to get it. And now they’re so desperate to get it into retail, and a lot of them are also being a little bit less vigilant about those “buy on” dates. They’re not as worried anymore that the beer has to be consumed within a week of canning, which is what a lot of people used to think. That was the whole allure of the fresh, hazy IPA. If it wasn’t fresh, that haze diminished — it kind of fell out of the beer. It didn’t have the pillowy mouthfeel everyone was obsessed with. And the fruitiness. All that stuff that made that beer so mind-altering to so many people who had drunk crappier beer for so long. That’s my first hot take. My other hot take is: I think the other thing that happened at craft breweries is a lot of them got into seltzer, and White Claw and Truly kicked their a**. That, again, is a supply issue. And a lot of craft breweries started making seltzer when the breweries were packed to have something else on tap that they could serve to people who didn’t want a ton of these massively high-alcohol beers we talked about at the beginning. How many IPAs can you drink? But now that we’re in a pandemic, White Claw and Truly are everywhere. and this obscure hard seltzer that probably wasn’t that much of a focus for the brewery but helped pay the bills when they were open is not going to be the thing that people reach for. So I think that those things align with everything else you’re saying, it’s just harder for them than for almost anyone else. And no one has figured out how to create this beer that took the beer world by storm as a shelf-stable product yet. Hazy Little Thing really isn’t that. Sierra Nevada says it is, it’s not. The question is this new Dogfish beer that just got announced, which is going to have oat milk in it. It’s the oats that are actually going to make it hazy. Is that going to be it? Because that’s the only way you’re going to recreate these beers without relying on freshness. There’s going to have to be something else chemically that happens that makes them hazy and pillowy and what I refer to as what eggs look like when you add milk to them and you scramble them. I don’t know. It’s going to be interesting. I think it’s going to be tough because that style of beer is what made Other Half famous. It’s what made Grimm famous. I remember, Erica, when we had the staff picnic and I was talking to Jonno, your husband, and he mentioned one of the OGs of that movement, I can’t remember which one it was, but it was one of the beers everyone was excited about.

E: The thing I see more than anything is fruited sours and just fruit beer everywhere. I don’t know how fresh those have to be, though. I’m thinking of the Dogfish Head SeaQuench and all those sorts of beers that have really pronounced fruitiness to them. Do those beers have to be as fresh? What’s the situation there?

A: Not that I know of, but I’m curious what Zach thinks here. I think that sours are polarizing, and I think what was so interesting about the hazys was that they’re incredibly welcoming to almost anyone, it tastes like f***ing orange juice, and that’s why I’ve always been a big IPA fan. I used to think of Racer 5 as one of my top beers. I love that IPA. That beer is amazing. Also Bell’s Two Hearted is an amazing beer but that was a style of IPA that was for people who like bitterness. I could never get Naomi to drink IPAs, but she loves hazys. I think that sours are the same. Naomi loves sours. I’m going to give you guys a little TMI, but I have massive acid reflux. That’s also why I don’t like natural wine. I can’t do it. The Brett inside those beers, I can have one but I could never think that I’d go and invest in a six pack, but I don’t know exactly. What do you think?

Z: I think that it’s really interesting that we’re talking about the freshness of beers because I think, in general, that’s something that even outside of hazys and beers where, especially in the Pacific Northwest, we’re in the midst of fresh hop season and those beers are, again, another thing where you want that beer fresh from the tank, if possible. And if not that then in the can for as little time as possible. But all beer, with the exception of maybe some darker beers that are designed to age, almost all beer benefits from being consumed pretty fresh. One thing that we’re just seeing is that breweries of all scales, but especially on the craft side, are really trying to figure out how to get product in people’s hands. For the most part, you’re not going to go buy a 24 pack of your favorite craft beer. You probably don’t want to drink the same one of those every day or two of them a day for 12 days or whatever. But also the beer just isn’t as good, as enjoyable, at the end of that. One of the challenges that I think that craft brewing has had is the compulsion that people had, especially earlier in the pandemic, to get as much of everything as they can. “I got to pack my house, my apartment, whatever, with everything that I could possibly need.” And I think people have come out of that a little bit, but still there’s that challenge of — if you’re only going to the store once a week, or you’re going to go to a brewery to stock up but you’re not going to go every week, you’re going to go once a month or every two months — you kind of have to find this balance of what is going to be shelf-stable enough to last through that period. I also think with the sours, the other problem for beers is that we are seeing a shift (and again, this is where I come back to the closures or limitations on taprooms, where the current contexts for drinking these beverages is different)m and so one of the reasons why I think the hazy has become so popular. Not just because of what Adam said, or maybe in conjunction with what Adam said about how welcoming it is, it’s also a great beer to just drink by itself. That’s a complete thing unto itself. Whereas, to me, a sour, whether it’s fruited or otherwise, that’s a beer I need to eat something with. The same way that a high-acid wine — I don’t really want to drink those things. I don’t have the same issues with the reflux, but still I don’t want to drink a really high-acid anything without something to go along with it. And so those higher-acid beverages, I think, are more shelf-stable. I would bet just chemically that it has to be part of the problem for a hazy. You don’t have that acid balance to keep the thing fresh. Milk is going to go bad faster than lemonade, just the reality of it. But it’s something that people could revisit, if they haven’t done it in a while, because for those of us who are consuming at home, maybe thinking about having beer with food, that’s where those drinks shine. They’re their brightest in that context, where you can use a meal or snack or something to balance them out. Whereas, I think a hazy or something, you can just crush that, watch Netflix, it doesn’t need anything else to make it enjoyable. I don’t know that it’s something I would say that, necessarily, I’m going to go back to some of the beers that I used to drink as much. But that is where I think really bitter IPAs and sours, those more extreme ends could perhaps come back and do a little bit of prominence. Because I think they’re both more shelf-stable and they’re also more enjoyable in the setting that most of us are consuming things: At home, with a meal or snacks.

A: I think that there’s the same craft beers kind of really influx right now because I really feel even two or three years ago, maybe even a year ago, it was the area of alcohol that a lot people would have said was the most exciting. It was working on becoming more open — it still was predominantly beer bros, but it was working on becoming more open. There was an accessibility, at least when it came to people who were drinking, that it felt people would get into it more easily than other areas of the drinks world. The branding was always really interesting. A lot of people I’ve talked to think that now a lot of those natural wine labels were influenced by craft beer. And a lot of wine people want to have their cool craft beer area of the wine world. I think everything we’ve said here is true. The business model, that’s the gray, it’s just suffering more than any other area of alcohol I can’t think of. I love craft cocktail bars. But those aren’t, to me, a third space. I can’t sit at a craft cocktail bar and pay $15 a drink for very long. Whereas you can sit at a brewery all day and have $6 to $8 pints and have a great time. And usually there’s a food truck. And the same for wine bars. I know there’s a lot of them, but are they really a place that you’re going to just hang out with your buddies and catch up in the same way? Probably not. And wine, to me, has always been much more of a restaurant thing or an at-home thing, which is what I drink most often. I think that’s what it is. And it’s sad, because I think it’s going to take longer for it to come back than the others. It’s just not going to be as quick as everything else.

E: I agree. I’ll just put in one little fact here, which I found interesting, as of June 30th there were 8,217 active craft breweries in the U.S. That was up 100 percent from a year ago. It takes a lot of time to open a brewery, several years, People are still opening. But what I found interesting was that between Q2 and Q3 of this year, there were still 219 new brewery permit applications. It’s the slowest amount of growth in 11 quarters, but it’s still growing. So I think people still see craft beer as a possible area where they can make money, or maybe it’s all the people in finance who’ve said, “Screw it, I’m done here and I’m just going to go open a brewery.”

Z: I will say my one bit of silver lining for this whole conversation is that statistics say that homebrewing has taken off again in a big way during the pandemic. I do think that one cool possibility coming out of this is that you will have had a lot of people who either had more time to do homebrewing or took it up for the first time. And I mean, again, homebrewing is where the craft beer movement was born. It’s still how it mostly gets its start. Many people who start breweries start out by brewing at home. It’s relatively easy to do that. Adam, you have personal experience, and I think in general it’s certainly possible that when we’re talking to brewers five or 10 years from now and how they got started, a lot of them probably will say, “During Covid, I decided to take the plunge: I’m going to try homebrewing. I’m going to give it a shot.” And from this opportunity, maybe some of the great breweries of the 2020s will be born.

A: That’s actually really true. I’m not going to open a sourdough bakery, but I could. And seriously, Erica, I’ll let you plug it. We got a great homebrewing column, guys.

E: It’s a really wonderful column. If you haven’t checked it out it’s called BIY: Brew It Yourself, and Mandy Naglich, she is a pro home brewer. It’s a really highly read column so people seem to be engaged. It’s been growing during the pandemic. So I think there’s a lot of interest in people saying “I’ve graduated from sourdough. Let me try homebrewing.”

A: Yeah. And she even has a column where she writes about how to make a hazy, which I thought was really interesting because it’s actually going to teach you how to do that. I never, when I was brewing, thought I could have attempted that. But I think it shows people are willing to try these things. I think you’re very much going to be right there, Zach. I think we’re going to have a lot of breweries that open up, and when you ask why, they’re going to say, “We left whatever city we lived in, we moved to this place, we got more space, we started homebrewing, and we realized ‘Oh, this will be a nice life.’” And they opened. I can totally see that.

E: Yeah. Me, too.

A: Well, guys, this has been another amazing conversation, as always. I think every time we talk this stuff out, we go into it thinking, “Okay, is this going to be something that should be all doom and gloom?” And then I come out and I feel really positive about everything. Thank you guys very much.

Z: Just here to brighten your day.

A: Thanks, guys. Well for everyone listening, we’re here to brighten your day as well, which is why we’d love you to leave us a review, tell your friends, rate us on iTunes, Spotify, wherever you get your podcasts. It definitely helps other people discover the show. Erica, Zach, I’ll see you right back here next week.

E: Talk to you then.

Z: Sounds great.

A: Before we officially go, a word from the sponsor of this week’s podcast, Wild Turkey 101. Wild Turkey 101 is the high-proof bourbon ideal for enjoying classic cocktails how they were intended to be when they were invented. Aged longer for more character and using the same recipe since 1942, Wild Turkey 101 adds flavor and body to the Old Fashioned, the number one consumer cocktail. Never compromise, drink responsibly. Wild Turkey Kentucky Straight Bourbon whiskey, 50.5-percent ABV, 101 proof, copyright 2020 Campari America, New York, New York.

Thanks so much for listening to the VinePair Podcast. If you enjoy listening to us every week, please leave us a review or rating on iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, or wherever it is that you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show. Now, for the credits. VinePair is produced and hosted by Zach Geballe, Erica Duecy and me: Adam Teeter. Our engineer is Nick Patri and Keith Beavers. I’d also like to give a special shout out to my VinePair co-founder Josh Malin and the rest of the VinePair team for their support. Thanks so much for listening and we’ll see you again right here next week.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article VinePair Podcast: How Craft Beer Can Thrive in the Pandemic appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/podcast-craft-beer-pandemic/

0 notes

johnboothus · 4 years

Text

VinePair Podcast: How Craft Beer Can Thrive in the Pandemic

Listen online

Listen on Apple Podcasts

Listen on Spotify

Or check out our conversation here

Adam: From VinePair’s New York City headquarters, I mean my apartment in Brooklyn, New York. I’m Adam Teeter.

Erica: From Jersey City, I’m Erica Duecy.

Zach: And from the satellite campus in Seattle, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe.

A: And this is the VinePair podcast. I really did want to say VinePair’s New York City Headquarters, even though they’re still closed.

Z: I mean, it might as well be the headquarters at this point.

E: Yeah, it is good. I agree.

A: Wild Turkey 101 makes awesome cocktails. Speaking of drinks, let’s talk about what you guys are drinking this week.

Z: Did you drink the whole bottle?

E: That’s a challenge. I mean, Zach, from the professional perspective of someone who’s worked on the floor a lot, what would you have recommended?

Z: And in the end, that’s the problem. That should not be your experience walking away from a drink or a meal, being like, “This was bad.” That’s hopefully not what anyone’s aiming for.

E: That sucks.

A: That’s actually really true. I’m not going to open a sourdough bakery, but I could. And seriously, Erica, I’ll let you plug it. We got a great homebrewing column, guys.

E: Yeah. Me, too.

Z: Just here to brighten your day.

E: Talk to you then.

Z: Sounds great.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article VinePair Podcast: How Craft Beer Can Thrive in the Pandemic appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/podcast-craft-beer-pandemic/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/vinepair-podcast-how-craft-beer-can-thrive-in-the-pandemic

0 notes

buzzfeedwheeze · 6 years

Text

The New Teacher - Shyan AU

CHAPTER 2

Shane watched as Andrew made his way through his second bowl of cereal with milk. Only kids like that, my ass! He was beaming. It just felt so right to sit by his son’s side and enjoy a nice breakfast before leaving for work. Unfortunately, the familiarity of it brought back memories that he wish would’ve stayed buried on the depths of his mind.

He and Sara used to make pancakes of the new characters of Disney that they had been working on at the studio and Andrew would happily munch at them after pointing out mistakes in anatomy or color. The first time he did it, they were so surprised that they thought they had hurt his feelings and perhaps shut down their child, but the next time they tried to subtly make him comment it worked out fine. It should’ve been expected, after all, he was their kid and art was always a big part of their lives so it obviously would attract little Andrew. Shane remembered when they had just adopted Andrew, they were trying to figure out how to make the small 8 year-old interact with them so Sara suggested painting palm trees’ leaves on the living room wall and Andrew sat on the floor and started to make small coconuts. Even though it was sort of painful to revisit the memories, he would always have a fond smile as the mental image of a smaller Andrew with his brows furrowed as he mixed the colors to get the perfect green popped in his mind.

He sighed.

There was no use trying to hold back those memories. Watching Andrew eating his cereal while simultaneously trying to tweet just reminded him other mornings. After Andrew’s second day in high school, he wouldn’t shut up during breakfast about the art class and how the other students loved his style and of course, it was when he met the transfer student from Malaysia, Steven Lim, who even asked to keep one of his drawings.

“Dad, are you in there?” Andrew was waving a hand in front of him. “Earth to dad!”

Shane gave him a tiny nod and went back to staring at his now cold pancakes and coffee. Andrew’s voice was weak when he asked. “Are you thinking about mom again? It’s just that you have that look…”

This time Shane actually made an effort and fought back the urge to hide his emotions from the world. “I… No. Not really. Not now.” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t thinking about her per se and I’m definitely not in love with her anymore, kiddo. I know you might think that I am..”

“It’s not that dad…” Shane made a gesture to stop him.

“It’s just hard to sort of filter my memories. Most of my happy memories with or without you are full of your mom’s presence and it’s tough to get over the fact that I was the happiest when we were together, probably the happiest I’ll ever be. I don’t think I can find someone that will make me feel like that again.” Andrew was looking at him with a concerned expression. “No! It’s not that I am unhappy. I mean, I have you! Andrew, you are the one thing in life that matters, the one thing that makes me wake up in the morning and actually thank god that I’m alive. For you being the way that you are, I’ll forever be grateful. I still can’t believe you chose us, that you chose me.”

“Dad, cut the sentimental crap!” he shouted, but he was visibly taken aback by his dad’s declaration. “You’ll find someone better for you, someone that deserves you. You and mom were okay, but okay doesn’t mean right, you get it?”

“So…” Shane didn’t want to discuss this any further, so he did what he was good at. He changed the focus of the conversation and with a teasing smile playing on his lips he continued. “Are you and Steven right, right?”

“Ugh, you are insufferable!” he snapped as he got up and stormed off to his room, leaving a very amused Shane and his very dirty bowl to be cleaned. As Shane washed the bowl he allowed himself to wonder if maybe his son was right. What if there is someone waiting for me? Nah, that’s bullshit.

XxXxXxXxX

“Have a great day, kiddo!” Shane handed Andrew his backpack and leaned on the side of the car. “Remember to give that Bergara dude hell.”

Andrew rolled his eyes and managed to give his dad a nod before turning around and going in the direction of Steven, who waved at Shane with as much energy as puppy. He watched them holding hands and disappearing inside the school building. It was the perfect image to have in his mind before jumping inside his car and going back to his eight hour shift at the Disney Studio where he would be trying keep sanity as he worked on a new animation project. But life had other plans. As he was about to turn away he noticed a cool Jeep pulling over at the teacher’s parking lot. Shane gritted his teeth as he saw the small guy hopping off the car.

Begara noticed him and as he walked in the direction of the school staring at Shane the whole time in what was supposed to be a menacing way. The staring match didn’t last much since when Ryan was about to climb the stairs to the building he tripped on his own foot and fell. Shane’s laughed was the only thing heard on the area. The other man quickly got up and stuck his middle finger to Shane which would’ve been offensive if he wasn’t blushing like a small kid. Shane chuckled again when he heard the main door of school being slammed.

“What a lovely day.” he said between giggles.

When Shane arrived at the studio there was, indeed, a pile of things to be done, but he was on such a big mood that he actually started to whistle some Disney songs. He turned his computer on and started to work on the animation, trying to make everything in sync and all the transitions smooth to facilitate the job of the Keith, the dude responsible for checking his progress and corrected small details.

The morning passed really fast. So fast Shane didn’t notice it was time to have his lunch break and got startled when Eugene touched his shoulder.

“Jesus, Madej. It’s break time. Stop working.”

Shane got up from his chair and stretched his body, lazily. He pocketed his phone and wallet and was about to leave when he decided to go back and take his sketchbook too. Today he was feeling creative. He decided to go to the Subway near the studio where he wouldn’t have to socialize with his co-workers and where people wouldn’t be asking questions about his doodles.

The place was almost empty, there was only a family of tourists with their ridiculously big Mickey Mouse Ears hats and faces full of sunscreen. Shane ordered a sandwich and chose a more reserved booth. He settled the sketchbook on the table and picked his favorite pencil, which was really small and was completely dented from falls and nervous teeth biting into it.

He gave a tentative bite on the sandwich and moaned slightly as he tasted the unique artificial flavors that only a fast-food chain restaurant could have. No wonder everyone called him a raccoon, he’d consider almost any food delicious. Or at least edible.

Shane started to sketch and after eating half of the food and finishing the face he realized he had drawn the fucking crazy teacher. Ryan Bergara. He ripped the page off and crunched the paper. Why would he draw that guy? He decided to keep the drawing though. It was fine art. So he got the little ball of paper and placed it on his jacket’s pocket.

There was still some time left before he had to go back to work, so he decided to get a nice ice cream cone. Shane bought one with two flavors ,vanilla and cookie though, of Mr. Tinsley a cool older guy that used to work as a detective or something like that in the 70s. Since it wasn’t a hot day, but the sun wouldn’t help the case of his ice cream, he found a nice bench underneath a tree.

He got his phone out and began to browse through Instagram. Then he stopped at a new photo of Steven. In the photo Steven was wearing a tinfoil hat, which wasn’t something so unusual, but the caption of the picture was the problem.

“What the fuck!” Shane perked up on the bench and gripped the ice cream cone harder. “‘@ryanbergara lended his cool hat to me, best teacher ever :)’”

It was impossible to ignore the urge to click on the username. In fact, Shane didn’t even try to hold back. He was bombarded by a series of photos of a Mr. Bergara at Disney and Universal Studios, puppies, Lakers and mirror selfies. He sucked in a breath. If the dude wasn’t bat shit crazy he would totally be my type. His bisexual senses were tingling so he decided to close the app. Nope.

I wonder if he has a twitter account? Maybe I could fight him. Shane clicked on the blue icon on his screen and typed bergara and there it was a @ryansbergara. Shane had a devilish smile as he analised the profile. The fucking profile picture was a photo of him wearing a tinfoil hat and his header was a screenshot of the X-files opening. Not surprising at all but that made Shane itchy to annoy the guy. That was practically begging to receive some of the old skeptic treatment that his family perfect through the generations.

Shane Madej - @shalexandej 01:39 PM

@ryansbergara hey dude nice hat. going to teach the kids how to do one… oh wait you already did!

He watched as a notification pop-up appeared on his screen only a few minutes later.

Ryan Bergara - @ryansbergara 01:42 PM

@shalexandej ha ha ha very funny stalker, i didnt teach them that!! i talked about how it is useless and actually applied some scientific concepts [GIF]

Shane Madej - @shalexandej 01:43 PM

@ryansbergara THANK GOD YOU DID THAT but i’ll have you know that i instructed my kid to make your life hell

Ryan Bergara - @ryansbergara 01:45 PM

@shalexandej oh really? Cause he actually helped in class

Shane Madej - @shalexandej 01:45 PM

@ryansbergara [GIF] NOOOOOO NOT MY KID BERGARA YOU ARE A CULT LEADER

Ryan Bergara - @ryansbergara 01:46 PM

@shalexandej hahahahahhahahsahs maybe ;)

Ryan Bergara - @ryansbergara 01:46 PM

@shalexandej i have to go prepare for my next class, see ya stalker [GIF]

Shane was about to reply when he receiver another type of notification. Ryan had just followed him. Well Bergara, this might be your downfall. He clicked on the follow button and he unconsciously knew how big of mistake that decision was.

#fanfic #shyan fanfic #buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed worth it #shane madej #ryan bergara #steven lim #andrew ilnyckyj #mine #my fic

35 notes · View notes