#insane podcast i’m very much looking forward to the rest of it
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THE SLEEPOVER FIC | Part 6 The Sunshine
Summary: You and James have put yourselves into trouble, but you think maybe it’s hotter that way.
Notes: James Acaster, Original characters. Alcohol consumption, moderate language. Just a feel good time babs!
Pairing: James Acaster x Reader
Genre: Fluff with eventual smut, Slow Burn fic
Words: 2,597
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9
James returned to his spot beside you, the sun shining down onto the metal table. Making it hot to the touch some time ago. He was sweating you noticed. Not in such a way that made it look as though he’d just finished a workout, but enough to add a light sheen to his face. You wondered if you looked much the same, having been sat in the same spot for hours. You could see that your uncovered arms had begun to burn, you imagined your nose had also as you felt a dull pain starting to form there.
The three of you sat in comfortable silence for a while taking blissful sips of your refreshing beverages. Occasionally you picked at your blueberry muffin, trying to think of something interesting to say.
“It’s a beautiful day isn’t it” Olivia asked no one in particular. She was right, the clouds had rolled away mid-morning. Leaving nothing but a clear sky for the sunshine to project through. You hummed in agreement.
“I’ve not seen Camden this busy in years.” James said, looking out at the collection of people lining the lock, you were somewhat grateful that you’d arrived early this morning. You might not have had a comfortable table otherwise.
“Is there a festival or something?”
“I don’t think so,”
“It’s just sunny and the British go mad for a beergarden.”
“True, true”
Another pause in conversation happened before James turned back around and faced you. As he twisted his body a waft of his cologne danced across your nostrils. He smelt of pear drops mixed with a light spice, pleasant but not overpowering by any means. Looking down at his hand you observed how his slender fingers engulfed his cup. You hadn’t noticed how large his hands were until now. Similarly as he’d always had them covered, only now could you see the veins of his arms. Peeping from under the skin. He was by no means muscular in the typical sense, but you could tell he wasn’t at all scrawny either. His arms too held a glaze of sweat across them. You took a sip, urgently needing a distraction from studying his body. You were hot enough as it was. As you pulled your drink away from your lips you looked over at Olivia. She was staring into your eyes in an intense sort of way. You furrowed your eyebrows at her, hoping to gain more of an insight upon her unreadable caricature. She turned towards James with a kind smile and began,
“Well James, it’s been lovely to meet you, but I best be heading home,” she pointed at the ring on her finger, “duty calls.”
You shook your head in disbelief, Olivia was divorced. She had been (unofficially) for quite some time now. But kept the ring on her finger as a quick getaway on occasion with people she didn’t know too well. You clocked on to what she was doing now, leaving you alone with James to fulfill whatever insane dialogue she’d got into her head. You gave her a deadpan face as she drank up the last bit of her iced coffee. James flashed her a polite smile, holding his hand out to her once again to shake hers.
“Nice to meet you too, hope we’ll meet again sometime!”
“Yes, that would be lovely, I’m sure Y/n will have a dinner party soon. She always has one close to the end of summer, don’t you?” she stated, rising from her seat she gave you a wink and a wave goodbye.
“I do indeed.”
“Well, I expect to see James there Y/n. A bit of celebrity company is definitely what your missing!” You mentally rolled your eyes at her double entendre.
“I’d love to see you there.”
“Text me when you get home!” You called out as she dissolved with another wave into the crowd. You looked out for a moment before the realisation that you were now alone (fully alone) with James. No other people to perform for.
“No goodbye kiss for Olive James?” You teased, relaxing into his solo company. He seemed a little startled by your question, turning to you with his lips parted.
“I-”
“I’m only kidding.”
“Well. If you must know, I don't go giving kisses out willy nilly.” His phrasing made you hold back a stupid grin; your sense of humour was embarrassingly immature. Noticing you try to hold back a laugh James quizzed you.
“What?”
“Kissing willy nilly,”
“You’re disgusting, childish,” James replied in a singsong, allowing your laugh to roll out of you now. He waited a moment, watching you with a smile, a chuckle causing his shoulders to bob up and down. His face fell comically flat, “I’m very disappointed in you.”
“I’m funny though,”
“If you say so Y/n” Lifting his hands defensively and tilting his head. You looked around the two of you, all the tables were full now and plenty of people waiting inside to order their beverages. You began to feel a little guilty for having been hoarding the table you were sat at. Noticing a couple on the hunt for a space to sit you turned to James again.
“Hey, do you want to have a walk around? Looks like it's getting busy and I’ve been here hours, legs need a stretch.” You rubbed at your thighs to exaggerate your meaning.
“Sure, where’d you like to go?”
“Not sure, where you headed earlier?”
“I was just walking really. Needed to get out of the flat.”
The two of you rose from the table, offering it gracefully to the couple who had now been standing awkwardly for quite some time. As the two of you headed toward the gate you heard the guy mumble to his partner a subtle ’Was that James Acaster?’
Watching James visibly cringe as he unclasped the handle with his vacant hand. You considered teasing but seeing the distaste across his face you decided it would be best not to. You expected it was an uncomfortable conversation to constantly fill.
“We could head into the market” you enthused, steering away from the conversation James had most definitely expected. He parted his lips, one side of his mouth curing into a grateful smile.
“Sure,”
And so off you trotted into the cascade of hot bodies weaving through each other. Thankfully - as James was a lot taller than you, he had taken the liberty to lead the way. Parting through people and occasionally slowing behind those taking in the London scenery via their mobile phones. You crossed over the lock bridge. Turning your head right to look out onto the sights, James flocked his head back to check if you were making it through okay. You twisted back and caught him looking, giving you a warm feeling of care overcome you.
“You okay back there short-arse?”
“Yeah, keeping up long legs.”
You saw his chest and shoulders rise with a snort as a group of people either side of you begun to push past. Causing you to stumble forwards. Instinctively you grabbed onto what was in front of you for balance, not wanting to lose James in a bombardment of bodies.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m alright,”
James silently produced his hand behind his back for you to hold onto. You let go of his shirt and gently took his pinkie finger into your palm with hesitation. Your blood pumping a little faster. Sensing your wavering James curled the rest of his fingers around your hand, engulfing it with a little squeeze of reassurance. You took a step forward while you were stationary in an attempt to hide your PDA for anyone who might recognise him. You couldn’t be arsed with your face on some scandal website.
“Do you want to eat?” James quizzed with a flash of eye contact as you made it towards the (thankfully not as crowded) food market.
“Yeah sure,” you agreed “What do you fancy?”
“Depends, are you feeling adventurous?” He led you round a few corners with visible excitement. Still holding firmly onto your hand. You decided however that you didn’t mind it all that much. It made you feel giddy in a way.
Casually he pulled the two of you round a final bend and stopped. Causing you to now be side by side with him. He let go of your hand, secretly making your heart sink into your shoes. Before regaining a hold of it. This time he invited you to interlock one another’s fingers, which you quickly accepted, his fingertips close to caressing you wrist.
“Why not?” You looked left, smiling up at him. His face lit up by the afternoon sun. The dusting of his auburn stubble upon his cheeks glinting in the light.
“Good. This place has the best South African food.”
“Sounds good to me,” You smiled back.
Excited by his own enthusiasm. You knew James was as much of a foodie as Ed, after all you’d chatted to them both the other night about their food podcast. James comically admitting that he didn’t think as many people would be still listening years after they had begun it. Trusting his insight, the two of you joined the queue for ‘Shaka Zulu’, allowing him to have this moment of pleasure as you had stolen him from a day to himself.
You looked around you, most of the people queuing being tourists or couples patiently waiting in the sunshine to be invited inside. A moment of panic washed over you as you started to wonder. To an outside eye could this be considered a date? Albeit an accidental scenario you and James were holding hands while waiting to go for a meal. Perhaps it could be translated as such.
Starting to feel nervous you decided you really needed a drink.
Pulling you out of your thoughts James ran his thumb idly over the back of your hand as you approached the front of the queue. Instantly making you feel calmer. He didn’t seem at all nervous. His posture tall and somewhat cocky. He used his free hand to pull on his collar, letting some air into his shirt, then running his fingers through the back of his hair.
“Have you been here before?”
“Never,” You admitted openly, “I don’t eat at restaurants often. Only for birthdays and so on, I don’t have the excuse really” You pondered the last time you’d gone for a proper meal out. Having been single there wasn’t a necessity to eat out as often. You wondered if maybe that was why this felt like such a date.
The waiter asked the two of you how many the table was for before guiding you towards one in the middle of the room. Inside of the restaurant was dimly lit in contrast to the outdoor sunshine, making your eyes go funny upon entry. As they began to adjust you noted the calved deep wood chairs and African themed setting, having you feeling slightly underdressed.
“Quite fancy for jeans and a t shirt,” You admitted to James as the waiter left you at your table to ponder the menu.
“How do you think my bare knees are feeling over here,”
“You suggested this place James,”
“Yeah well,” He sang stupidly, “Forgot who I was for a second Y/n.” Pausing shortly after blinking slowly and looking off to his left.
You were seated across from one another, both in extravagant looking chairs. James had his legs outstretched underneath the table; both his feet nestled beside your ankles. You noted his comfort around you, and his constant need to be close to you in any way possible. It was alluring to consider his touch may be purposeful. The two of you studied the menu for a while before you perked up another conversation.
“Is it too early for a drink?”
“It is the weekend,” He replied with his brows raised, lips pulled cheekily.
“Olive tells me off if I suggest anything before three.”
“And you pretend to be okay with that?” James stated playfully. You laughed at his comment, making his mouth curve into a proud smirk. Something stirring in your stomach subsequently.
“White wine is presumably more acceptable for day drinking,”
“I’d agree but why bother when you’re already committed.”
“Guess you’re right.”
“Obviously”
“I’ll get a mojito then.” Shaking your head at his cockiness for what felt like the hundredth time since you met him, he carried on.
“Good choice. I might join you. What do you want to eat?”
“What does the food connoisseur recommend?” You offered sarcastically, however genuinely curious for his input. You didn’t want to be brought to a place he’d bigged up and order a fucking salmon.
“Well, the Vegetable Potjie is great, I usually get the Beef Bobotie though.” You checked over his suggestion on the menu. Liking the sound of the vegetarian dish much more than the beef you decided to go with that.
“I’ll have the Potjie then!” You professed, closing the leather wallet with a gentle thud.
James leant back in his seat, resting his arms on each side of it. You couldn’t help but observe him now that there was nowhere else for your eyes to naturally fall. Accepting the circumstance, you drank him up. His posture comfortable, one of his arms falling in his lap away from your view. His hair curled upwards in a collection of flicks, some slightly stuck down from the heat outside. His jaw was well defined as he rested in an L shaped hand. Ring finger positioned just below his lips. You moved your eyes upwards only to meet his own, that had subsequently, also been studying you. You started to feel a little self-conscious and James looked at you with hunger in his eyes as the two of you held the contact.
You nibbled your lip nervously out of habit, unsure of what to say. Causing a knee jerk reaction from James, his foot turning to nudge your own. He swallowed awkwardly and cleared his throat, shifting in his seat, (thankfully) as the waiter returned for your orders.
“Hi what would the two of you like to eat this afternoon?”
James looked to you, silently quizzing if you would like to order first.
“You go,” You nodded “It's okay.”
“Erm, well could we get two mojitos please,”
“Sure, would you like plain, raspberry or kiwi?”
“I’ll have a raspberry please” You chipped in
“Just plain for me thanks”
“Yep, what else would you like?” She scribbled down some notes as James began speaking once more.
“Can I get the Beef Bobotie please,”
“Um hum,”
“And could I please have the Potjie” You asked politely, passing your menu over to James who was gathering his.
“Wonderful,” She scribbled again. “Is that everything?”
“That's it thanks.”
“Amazing, someone should be with you in a minute to bring your drinks over. If you have any questions just shout. Enjoy your meal guys!” She enthused, gathering your menus before starting to head off. Alas, before she had fully departed from your table James stated a genuine ‘Thanks! You too!’ His face twisting downwards in instant regret.
You forced yourself to hold back your laughter until the waiter had disappeared. James’s mouth wide open, blinking slowly in disgust at himself. You smiled at him, feeling both second-hand embarrassment and pure joy simultaneously. You raised your eyebrow inquisitively.
“You too?” You teased, James looked up shamefully, resting his chin in his palms.
“I wish I were dead.” He concluded. Twisting his face into a comical frown.
Hello all lovely people. I would just like to say I’m not fully in love this chapter, mostly because I know we’re getting into the nitty gritty but I wanna take things slow to build some more SexU0L teNsIOn~ I also think I’m trying too hard to be funny. But anyways, thank you for keeping up with the fic and all the support along with it. Love light and peace x
- Princess Maria
Taglist josies-polestar queensantiagoofthe99 rilannon laurabeech olithephangirl
If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglist, feel free to tell me!
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prompt: if you are interested..! i’ve always been wondering what happened to jon once he was finally able to get treatment for his hand. burns get infected the most easily, is all i’m sayin, yknow? (love your work! have a great day)
I can finally write this because I finally got to that point in the podcast, lol
Set directly after episode 92, AKA the episode where the archives squad is finally reunited, Elias confesses, and general insane shit hits the fan that, as Tim so nicely puts, is the usual around here.
Little soft JonMartin just because
Jon’s rummaging through the archives, briefly scanning statements he wants to take with him back to Georgie’s, the only distraction from his otherwise reeling mind. It’s almost funny, he thinks, how his mind has taken to an endless, internal monologue despite the very obvious pain drumming almost rhythmically against his temples. He’s lost in a whirlwind of how’s and what if’s, and the statements, he thinks... well, the statements may be the only drug that can temporarily take him away from himself.
“Jon?”
Jon jumps, not having heard the door open over the sound of his deep, frantic inner voice. He whips around, one file clutched a little too tightly to his chest, and sees Martin hovering in the doorway, almost as if he’s afraid to enter.
“Sorry,” Martin sputters softly. “I did knock.”
“It’s... fine,” Jon sighs out, the initial anger of being startled dissipating along a low breath. He studies Martin, eyes flicking all around for any sign of injury or distress, but Martin just looks hesitantly worried for him, and Jon finds that he has kind of missed that look.
“Are you alright?”
Though soft in tone, Jon can physically feel the weight behind each word in the short yet not so simple question. He debates on what he should tell Martin, or rather, if he should tell Martin anything, but his present, physical well-being comes back by a burning twinge across his burned hand from where he’s gripping the file too tightly. He hisses sharply between his teeth and lets the file fall from his hand.
“Jon! What’s wrong?” Martin’s already starting toward Jon, both hands reaching outward, and Jon quickly finds that his feet do not actually want to move, so, carefully, he extends his burned hand out away from where he’s had it cradled to his chest.
Martin’s fingers are incredibly gentle around Jon’s thin wrist, such a drastic contrast from the fear and worry so evident across his face.
“Oh, Jon... This... This doesn’t look good at all. Have you gone to get this looked over?” Martin’s careful as he twists Jon’s hand around, eyes sinking the more he takes in the angry red welts of what appears to be a rather aggressive burn.
“I haven’t had time,” Jon admits, detailing, to himself, the events of the last week that have taken up the time he should have been spending on looking after himself. “It’s been... Well, it’s been a week.” He laughs at this, small, bitter, yet alarmingly overwhelmed, and if not for Martin’s steady presence, he thinks he may just crumple to the floor. Still, his knees begin to shake, and Martin’s quick to catch on and guide him down into a chair.
“I’m going to get a first aid kit.”
“Martin,” Jon calls out, stopping Martin at the door.
Martin freezes and looks over his shoulder, his face an undistinguishable mess of emotions, and Jon swallows back the practiced words of “I’m fine,” saying instead, “thank you.”
The panic that flicks across Martin’s eyes doesn’t go unnoticed, and Jon quietly berates himself for always worrying his staff as Martin quickly disappears down the hall. He sinks back against his chair with a groan and cradles his hand to chest once more. For just a moment, he allows his head to tilt back against the chair until he’s starting at the dusty ceiling. He feels weak. He thought, considering Elias’s confession, that he would feel better now that he’s physically inside the archives, but he still feels relatively weak and slightly panicked. There’s a tightness pressing against his lungs, and he can only pin that on the apparent need to record statements.
“You’re still here, Jon.”
Jon musters up as much energy as he can to cast a sharp, dangerous gaze to Elias, who’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed casually.
“What do you want, Elias?”
“I didn’t see you leave. I was curious to know why you’re still here.”
“I’m-”
“He’s here for me.”
Jon’s jaw snaps shut, and he leans forward, eager, curious, for he’s never heard Martin speak with a tone of finality such as that. He watches, both brows raised, as Martin squeezes past Elias to get into the archives, and he’s unable to pry his eyes away as Martin drops to a crouch in front of him and opens the first aid kit.
“You’re hurt-”
“Will that be all, Elias?”
Martin looks over his shoulder toward Elias, and Jon can make out the tension tightening Martin’s muscles through the sudden defensive, stiffness of Martin’s back and shoulders.
Jon holds his breath, almost afraid to see the scene play out, but Elias lets his arms fall to his side in a visble show of defeat.
“Of course. I’m sure you’ll see that Jon is tended to.” He disappears down the hall, and Jon swallows thickly, a lump forming in his throat.
Martin’s uncharacteristically quiet as he pulls supplies out of the first aid kit, and he wordlessly holds his hand out, prompting Jon to drop his burned hand atop Martin’s outstretched palm.
“I’ll do what I can, but you should still probably go to a clinic.” Martin says, pulling out an antiseptic cream. “This is going to sting, but we need to try and prevent infection.”
Jon can only nod with eyes shut tight and grit his teeth as Martin begins smoothing the cream over his hand. It burns terribly, but, it’s an almost nice distraction from everything else that invading his thoughts. And, he thinks, at least the clear presence of pain means he’s still somewhat human. The bandaging that follows doesn’t hurt as bad, and Jon manages to pry his eyes open to watch Martin’s delicate yet thorough work.
When Martin’s sure he’s finished, after having studied every inch of Jon’s wrapped hand, Jon doesn’t pull his hand away, and Martin doesn’t let go.
“Are you alright?”
It’s the second time Martin’s uttered that single question, and Jon shakes his head, his hair slipping from where he’s had it tucked behind his ears to now frame darkly around his face. “Are you?” He asks, voice cracking slightly.
“Christ no,” Martin laughs, nervous, and his fingers thighten just a fraction around Jon’s hand. “We’ve been doing our best to get on without you here, but...” Martin drops his free hand atop Jon’s knee. “It’s just not the same without you here. Tim’s been absent more than he’s been here, Melanie... well, she’s great actually, but now she’s bound to this place like the rest of us. What’s with that anyway? Our hearts out now connected to this place?” He realizes, a breath too late, that he’s rambling and that Jon’s grimacing before him, and he stops himself with a low sigh. “Sorry, everything’s just really screwed up right now.”
“I know,” Jon manages, voice barely above a whisper. He shivers slightly, feeling suddenly cold, and Martin frowns at him for the umpteenth time in the fifteen minutes they’ve been together.
“Cold?”
Jon nods, feeling an odd chill washing over him, and Martin leans forward to brush the back of his hand to Jon’s cheek.
“You’re quite warm actually. I think you’re running a fever.”
“That would explain the splitting headache,” Jon mutters, wincing when Martin cups his palm over Jon’s injured hand once more, a little less gentle than he’s been thus far.
“Your hand is really hot. This may already be infected. Jon, you should-”
“Martin, it’s fine,” Jon says, though even he can’t quite believe himself. “I just haven’t been sleeping well. Every time I try, this overwhelming feeling of dread washes over me and constricts my lungs. I think...” He pauses, eyes dragging toward the pile of statements he’s handpicked so far. “I think having those nearby will help.”
“Jon, that’s not okay. You’ll work yourself to death.”
“I have to work, Martin,” Jon says, voice low, leaving little room for argument, and Martin nods and slowly gets to his feet.
“Fine, but promise you’ll sleep first. And that you’ll get yourself to a clinic for your hand. I’m not above following you to wherever you are staying and taking you to a clinic myself, you know.”
“I know,” Jon mumbles, a hint of a smile trying to creep at his lips. He grabs the files, careful of his hand, and starts toward the door, stopping when Martin calls out to him.
“Jon?”
He looks back, one brow raised in silent question.
“Could you... Well, do you think you could...”
“Go on, Martin,” Jon presses, voice sounding more demanding than he means for it to.
“Can you text me?” Martin flushes at the look Jon shoots him. “Not like that! Or... Well... It’s just... You disappeared, Jon, and I was really worried. Could you just text me every now and then so I’ll know you’re okay?”
Jon can feel a similar flush burning up his neck to his cheeks, and he looks away quickly and clears his throat. “Sure,” he stutters out. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Thank you.”
Jon forces himself out of the room, fleeing the weight of those two words that are threatening to squeeze his rapid heart into thousands of fragments. He keeps his eyes cast to the ground, moving on muscle memory alone, and he doesn’t look up, doesn’t even breathe, until he’s standing outside in the chilly air. He turns around and cranes his neck to view the building in its towering entirety, and as if it means anything or holds even the slightest inch of power, he mumbles quietly into the cold air.
“Don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt any of them.”
#tma#the magnus archives#jonmartin#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#whump#whumpfic#sickfic#my writing#my tma writing#fanfic#tma fanfic#i meant for this to be soft#and it got a little more angsty then i meant#just a smidge#also i'm still in s3 so just roll with this okay?#loved this prompt!
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So you're saying that the Duffers did a "bad season" on purpose? I'm all for theories, but why on earth would they do that??
No , that’s not what I’m saying! I’m saying just like how they made fun of mileven in s2 (they did so even more in s3). They showed all the romantic relationships that aren’t going to be endgame as dysfunctional . And they gave the fans “everything they wanted” (by showing how bad their ideas are- ie ships , evil russians, el is the ‘chosen one’ who is over reliant on Mike) while still forwarding the narrative . Aka mileven is bad and inhibits the growth of Mike and el .So let’s show how it’s bad for el by reversing all her character development from s2 .Aka El saying “friends don’t lie”-to lying to her friends to suck face with Mike (and have Lucas even call her out saying “they’re lying”). And have El who tried to escape the cabin all of s2 to see her friends - willing stay isolated in the cabin to be with mike (and ignore all her friends for 6 months). Let’s also have mike go from team leader to inhibiting their plans and fighting with the team - except when Mileven was fighting and mike made the sauna plan. And have Mike pretend not to like d&d until the end when talking with Will and when mileven is broken up. Let’s have Mike also never apologize for lying , and compare him to controlling Hopper who says people are “corrupting her” , while the gals (max and Joyce) say both don’t respect El’s ability to make “decisions”. And just compare mileven to Hopper/El like we did in s2.And compare mileven to stancy in multiple ways- like calling both relationships “bullshit”. And have El spy on Mike when they’re broken up and never apologize for it (like how the song they danced to in s2 “every breath you take’ is about a stalking ex gf). Etc.
Let’s reference “never ending story” as a reference of El being an alter and the “false chosen one” like the child hero atreyu in the movie. “Atreyu (who was deemed the ‘chosen one) is knocked into the sea of possibilities. There he wakes on the shore of abandoned ruins. There Gmork (The Mindflayer) reveals himself, having been lying in wait. And then latches his jaws onto Atreyu’s leg.” Aka just like El- who by the way didn’t save any of the 30 + people cause they all relied on her to be the chosen one. Instead of actually relying on team work- like prior seasons. She lost her powers and the team had to save her in the end.
The Empress in the story later tells Atreyu, that despite being told he was the chosen one (he never was). And that it was always Bastian (Will) who was the chosen one -that could save them, all along! “Bastian (Will) is a shy-outcast (with a bowel cut) raised by a single parent, and teased by bullies from school. The book Bastian starts to read, describes the fantasy world of Fantasia which is slowly being devoured by a malevolent force called “The Nothing (the upside down- the Duffers originally called it ‘the nether’).And the empress says Atreyu’s (El’s) story, and “others” (the rest of the st cast) are following Bastian’s (Will’s) story all along, making them all part of his neverending story. Aka like how Will’s d&d campaign foreshadows all of s3. The Empress tells Bastian that he has the power to save them using his imagination since he created everything in the first place .*Bastian even temporarily goes evil after he loses his memories (just like Will).
And like I mentioned in my DID theory post- the cartoonish Russians are one of many constructs of Will’s mind that came to life. Why they’re so over the top. And while discussing the mf they alluded to the darker story of trauma that connects back to Will & Lonnie - like Jon checking Lonnie’s trunk for Will/ the mf throwing people in trunks, “bad screams vs good screams”,“stay still it’ll all be over soon”, the tub parallels. Having the d&d story Will wrote connect to the whole plot of s3 . And also connecting the Russians , hopper, and kali/el, to the mf. And I also explained why the mf pretended to ignore Will in s3.
The st production workers , in a netflix podcast criticized Erica’s pro capitalism comments saying they were (”like a sociopathic veep character”). At the s4 video store they have a poster of “the coco cola boy’ ( an anti corporate/ anti coke film). Specifically about coke affecting small town businesses - and the film also being an allegory of American imperialism . And we see how (on the 4th of July) the mall affected small business in s3- and the mall (aka big business) which was controlled by the ‘villains’/corrupt mayor were burned to the ground at the end of the season.
In s2 , Max criticized the s1 story while talking to Lucas- in a very meta way (saying about s1/lucas’ story. “ I really liked it. I mean, I had a few issues. I just felt it was a little derivative in parts. I just wish it had a little more originality, that’s all.” So lucas has a similar scene but for s3.Lucas says “new coke” (which was hated by pretty much everyone at the time of its release) is better than the original coke and the whole cast disagrees with him . In April 1985, Coca-Cola decided to change its recipe, abandoning what we now know as Coca-Cola Classic for a new flavor that was not well-received. Known as “new coke”(shown all over s3). Aka- the new upbeat setting of s3 which also takes place in 1985 (who’s plot , ships, and characterization appeared shallow on the surface). It’s a meta commentary of what they were expecting people would say about s3 , which also takes place in 1985 . (Aka s1-2 are better than s3, on the surface). If you take everything at face value and don’t look behind the surface you will not like s3 as much (examples being)- the pro corporatism/ pro America stuff when the US gov used to be villains,or if you don’t realize how/why the chemical plots of the Russians/mf connect , or if you actually know what a healthy relationship looks like and saw the dysfunction of all the couples, or simply noticed the ‘plot holes’ of El being the ‘chosen one ‘ -the mf being was supposedly after since s1 , creates. Aka mf chased and posessed Will at school, when El was also at the school at the same time as Will/mf. But the mf ignored her at school, and instead the whole year he stalked Will . And he even said he wanted to kill everyone but Will last season -to supposedly wanting to kill everyone including Will. So when Lucas disagrees (saying the NEW coke/the NEW season is better than the original ) the whole cast glares at him in disbelief , saying “What?!”And Mike argues with Lucas saying he’s “insane” . And El (the ‘chosen one’ of that season) angrily cuts their argument short. They even say coke vs new-coke is “the same concept” as comparing the original ‘The thing’ movie (s1-2) with it’s remake ( s3/NEW season).Right before El says to stop fighting about it.
Duffers gave the fans what they wanted on the surface all under the guise of pro America corporatism on the 4th of July (and hid the real stuff behind the surface) all while getting money from coke while dissing it. And criticizing pro-americana capitalism. Even s3 being advertised as the “summer of love” is a diss cause ‘summer loves’ are flings that don’t last after the summer (aka after s3) . I talked about all the evidence of why certain pairings (jopper, jancy, mileven, and lumax) are probably not endgame here. But, just looking at coke. Karen drinks newcoke while looking at billy. Mike drinks newcoke when complaining about el. max/el spun a newcoke bottle while spying on their then exes . Jopper drank new coke together. El being experimented on has been associated with coke since s1. Steve in s1 even puts coke on his black eye when talking about Nancy. And we know s3 compared mileven to stancy constantly. Lucas drank new coke and said it was awesome even when historically almost everyone in the 80s hated the new formula. The pairings advertised in the official “romantic” new-coke commercial were lumax, mileven, Karen/billy, and Steve/ some random girl named Tracy. And prior to season 3, Coke was always given a negative context, mostly being associated with the inhuman experimenting on El . (El in s1 has a ptsd flashback after seeing a coke beach -summer esque-commercial and then thinking of the time Brenner forced her to crush the coke can.) And they showed that s1 flashback in s3 , when El tries crushing a new-coke-can she found in the “trash” , and realizes unlike s1 she can’t anymore).
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blackbox ; jaehyun
*disclaimer : all places and names are fictitious
Note : I’m trying something new, writing in first person rather than third person, adding flashbacks and thoughts into the whole story, it’s a little challenging for me but I hope you guys like this.
Also, I would love to hear your thoughts on this writing, my inbox is open :-)
when i gave mom one last hug and wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks, i made a promise to her that i would live a good life and behave myself while i’m on the other side of the world. i bid my family and my closest friend a last goodbye before walking towards immigration at the airport.
why are these thoughts coming to me now? i’m living a good life and i’m sure as hell behaving myself when he asked me to get down on my knees for him.
blackbox was just like every other club, it’s a place to drink, dance and genuinely have a good time. but what makes it so much more famous than other clubs? i was asking myself the same question until meredith, my roommate, told me what actually goes on there.
“look, there’s only three kinds of people that goes to blackbox,” meredith spoke, pausing for a couple of seconds to apply her mascara. “one, to drink; two, to dance; three, do both and also go into the black room.” she finished.
“okay? still, what’s the big deal about it. it sounds just like any other clubs i’ve been to.” i complained.
“shh, i’m not finished yet!” meredith said. i rolled my eyes at her, turned my back and continue searching my closet for a good party dress.
“the black room is what makes it a big deal, y/n. it’s a room where people go in to have sex or oral or whatever you want to do!” meredith turned around from her chair, facing me completely with a grin on her face.
i was confused. so, people just go in the black room and pick a partner to fuck with? but what if someone comes up to you and you don’t wanna fuck with them because you want someone else?
indeed, i was confused at that moment. but with his hands in my hair, thrusting his hips forward, furthering down his cock till the tip of it hits the back of my throat, i couldn’t help but let out a moan and my train of thoughts were rudely interrupted.
when we arrived at the blackbox, i could feel my heart palpitating against my chest as we got closer to the entrance. i did not know what was making me feel so nervous. was it the idea that i want to get ramp from behind in the black room? or was it the idea that i don’t know exactly how i can get ramp from behind? either way, i was nervous at both ideas.
meredith and i were greeted by two tall and well-built bouncers standing by each side of the entrance door, i think they were about 6 feet 5? meredith mentioned some kind of secret code and bouncers let us in.
“what did you say to let us in?” i asked.
meredith gave me a flirty smile and shot me a wink, telling me that it’s something i did not need to know and i should just have a good time.
maybe for now i do need to know, or i don’t? because the owner of this club is doing a mind-blowingly good job at eating my pussy out with two fingers in and i could barely think straight.
“you taste so good, baby.” jaehyun smirked.
i couldn’t help but let out a whine, embarrassed but greatly turned on by his only- so-mild dirty words. jaehyun looked up at me from between my legs, even in the dim light of this room, i could see his chin and the side of his mouth glistening with my juices.
oh what a sight.
“come on!” meredith yelled, grabbing my wrist and leading the way to a private booth. a hostess greeted us at the door, dressed in a black silky bodycon dress, nipples poking through the fabric-due to the air-conditioning, as if it was greeting us as well.
‘jesus, how much did she pay to get such luxury?’ i questioned myself.
the booth was already filled with different kinds of booze, fancy champagnes and very very attractive young men with also very very attractive women in each of their arms, only except for one man. meredith led me to stand in front of the table, clapping her hands together to get everyone’s attention.
“hello, boys and mister jung.” meredith chirped. the man, i assume, mister jung, rolled his eyes at her and turned his attention back to the whiskey in his hand. taking a sip before resting his arm on top of his crossed legs. he was dressed a little more casual than the other men in the booth, just plain black t-shirt and is that army printed pants?
“this is a good friend of mine, y/n. so be nice and don’t do anything unless she says so, we clear?. lastly, let’s have a good time, bitches!” meredith finished her opening speech.
i stood there awkwardly before walking to the end of the couch and take a seat while meredith headed over to the table and grabbed some drinks and not sit beside me, but some other dude at the other end of the couch. it wasn’t like i needed her to be right by my side the whole time while we’re at a club, but when you drag me to a private booth with twelve complete strangers, i sure as hell hope you could help me out a little.
after a couple of minutes, i got up from my seat to get a drink. hopefully a drink strong enough to make me loosen up and enjoy myself here. before i could, i felt the cushion next to me sink down, i took a glance and noticed it was mister jung sitting next to me with a glass of champagne in his hand and whiskey at the other.
“here you go, princess. y/n right?” he smiled, showing off his dimples.
“well, thank you.” i smiled back.
i took the champagne from him and chugged the whole thing down, way too sober to talk with my anxiety boosting through the roof. i put the empty glass down and turned my attention back to him. mister jung looked at me with surprise.
“oh, right. it is y/n. you’re mister jung i assume?” i asked him.
“yes but you could just call me jaehyun. meredith just likes to call me that.” jaehyun shrugged, taking another sip of his drink.
we had a small talk for couple of minutes before the girls pulled him to the other side for a drinking game. i drank another couple of drinks before i left the booth and headed over to the dance floor. with the alcohol in my blood, i felt myself loosen up, swinging my hips according to the music, occasionally grinding my ass on to the girls and guys on the floor.
“looks like she’s enjoying herself there, don’t you think?” a friend of jaehyun said to him.
i could see them from afar, standing next to each other with their hands crossed over their chest. jaehyun’s eyes were burning into mine, as if it was a contest to see who could keep their stare on each other for the longest. i gave him a wink and a flirty smile, and turned my back to him, continuing dancing with a random guy. my body felt hot, a thin layer sweat coating my skin. i turned back around to where jaehyun was standing a couple of minutes ago, my eyes were searching for his presence and i couldn’t find him anywhere, and i was a little disappointed when i noticed he was entertaining another girl at the bar.
“i believe they deserve some attention too, don’t they?” jaehyun said as he got up between my thighs, slowly hovering his muscular body on top of mine.
as soon as he finished his sentence, his hand went behind my back, unhooking my bra skillfully with one hand, ripping it off my body and planted his plump lips back onto mine. one hand groping your tits while rolling my nipple between his thumb and the other holding my neck, closing the distance between us two.
he detached his lips from mine and went to my other nipple. softly nibbling it between his teeth as i grab a fistful of his hair, intertwining his locks between my fingers as i moaned out loud.
i made my way through the crowd and planned to head back to the booth, until i saw jaehyun disappear into a room, probably with that girl just now at the bar. i didn’t know what i felt at that moment, but my curiosity took over and ordered me to follow his direction.
the door was made of what felt like velvet, and it was insanely heavy to even push open. ‘damn, this is one hell of a room’ i thought to myself. it was a huge dimly lit room, with dark maroon velvet cushioned walls and two rows of smaller rooms on each side of the bigger container, numbers built in on each door.
hm, i suppose this was that room meredith mentioned? it sure as hell does not deserve the name 'the black room' when it's literally nothing like the color.
“1, 2, 3, 4- ah!” i shrieked when someone grabbed my arm from one of the rooms.
i quickly forced my wrist loose from the stranger’s grip, turning my back against them and face the opposite direction.
“HELP! SOMEBODY!” i banged hard against the door, my legs were soft like jelly, i was sitting down on the carpeted floor, screaming to get out of this unfamiliar place.
“i know you were looking for me, princess. i’m just making it easier for you.”
ah, a familiar voice. jung jaehyun.
"plus, i specifically made the rooms here sound proof. you know how loud people can get from sex." he smiled.
I turned to the sound of his voice. jaehyun’s fingers controlled the light switch, slowly turning the small knob to light up the dark room. after blinking a couple of times, adjusting my eyes to the exposure. that’s when i noticed that he and i were both alone in the room.
“mhmm, so warm and wet, and so tig-” jaehyun paused, letting out a shaky breath as I clenched onto his cock, putting what I learned from Alex Cooper’s podcast to good use.
“fuck. I could get used to this feeling.” jaehyun said as he planted a kiss on my lips.
he wasn’t fully inside me but he was stretching me out good. i never had someone as big as him, and i was trying my best to clench my walls onto his cock making both of us feel good. not going to lie to myself, just like he said, even i could seriously get used to this feeling.
“jaehyun,move please, orgasms don't happen with still motion.” i complained.
“as you wish.” jaehyun replied. with just that, he pushed the rest of himself inside me, both of us letting out a loud groan from the overwhelming sensation. jaehyun gradually built up speed and the sound of skin slapping; low groans and loud moans filled the room.
“what do you want?” jaehyun asked, lifting his body up and re-adjust his posture from the chair. his elbows resting on his thighs, eyes burning into mine.
i was going to word vomit and say something i might or might not regret.
I don't know jaehyun, I might just want you to ramp me from behind just like how I like it or how you like it, whatever it is, I just want to be ramped by you.
by the way he was judging, i could tell he was waiting for an answer, his left foot was tapping impatiently on the carpet.
as i sat down on the carpet, debating if i should just tell him the truth. my mouth waters at the look of his body. even slightly intoxicated, i noticed even from his casual attire, i could tell he’s well built. the thin layer of his shirt outlines his chest and abs perfectly, jaehyun was like a sculpture God hand carved himself.
i fought the urge to spit the thoughts in my head out of my mouth, but before i knew it, he stood up and started walking towards me and a minute later, his pink plump lips were against mine.
i could taste the whiskey off of him. it was like im drinking him down.
“i’ve seen the way you danced, y/n. how you grind your ass onto those guys; with the girls i’m fine with it, but you know how much those guys wanted to get in your pants just as much as i do.” jaehyun paused.
his hands were all over my body. from my neck; shoulders; arms and waist; it was literally everywhere. but he wasn’t touching anywhere near where i want him the most.
“but we both know who you really want. don’t we?” he said as he tapped my ass, signaling me to jump, and he held me by my thighs, my hands automatically cling onto his arms as he slowly walked towards the bed. jaehyun gently lay me down. as now he was hovering on top of me, the smell of his cologne mixed with sweat and alcohol filled my nose; his lips attached onto mine hungrily, tongues intertwined and saliva all over the place.
i suppose i should tell what exactly happened, all the juicy details like how he sounded - low groans and soft whines, especially when he was close; how did his cock look like, was it big and veiny or decent and thick; how did his face look like when he was finishing himself etcetera; but i couldn’t.
all i could really remember was how good it felt to have him in me, on me and right now, beside me. he was laying so peacefully, one hand resting on my right tit, body sprawled on the right side of this king size bed. his hair was covering his eyes as he softly snores.
what an angel.
#jaehyun#jaehyun smut#nct#nct 127#nct smut#nct 127 smut#jung jaehyun#jung jaehyun smut#jaehyun x reader#nct-writers
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Reactions to the Final Chapter of The Auction (1/?)
@abitchytrashcan said: Thank you so much to the alphabet team and you for creating this beautiful masterpiece, You somehow managed to make me cry while I was reading the ending. You broke my heart into pieces and somehow managed to fix it in record time, A perfect end to a painfully beautiful story, I shall now reread and go back to the canon of TRRTD and ATWT to cope with this empty hole where my heart should be. 👏👏👏
Anonymous said: First of all: Congrats on finishing the wonderful piece of art that is TA!!!! But Juls. How. could. you. do. this. I neeeeeed to know what is going to happen nooooooow?? Are they siblings? Is this magical incest now? Will that stop them? Will Panville happen in this universe? Gaaah! Even if those questions will never be answered - thank you again for sharing this with us. I feel truly blessed.
Anonymous said: I have no words. I really cannot thank you for your brilliance enough. I have been on such a journey with this story for over a year and you have truly ruined me forever in the best ways possible. That said, how could you not give us the reunion sex and Hermione saying I love you!?!??!!!?!?!? (I’m joking but also heartbroken) 💔💔😰😭😭😭😳🤯😠🥺🥺🥺🥺 hoping that appears in all right at some point but still thank you always I will be returning to this fic for years to come 🧡
Anonymous said: You legitimately changed my life with this story. Not me being able to HEAR Draco’s commentary in my head at the very end because you allowed us to know your Draco so personal in all the wrong things. Girl I know he was thinking look at me. 🤭 I am blown away my brain will be repeating this ending for days on end. I will probably reread the entire SERIES this week even though it’s my college finals and I am already suffering. At least let my heart and soul suffer too
Anonymous said: I’ve been reading you’re “Rights and Wrongs” series on ao3 and all I can think about is how much I would love a Hogwarts Era addition. Anything Hogwarts Era—an altered house or an earlier Dramione or even a no Voldemort AU. I’m just so in love with you’re characterization and your dialogue and really just your writing in general! Hope you’re well!!
I’ve written some Hogwarts Era fics (you can find them on my Ao3), but I won’t be doing anything specifically from the Rights and Wrongs universe in a Hogwarts Era AU. <3
Anonymous said: I never want to come across as the demanding or entitled reader forcing you to do anything bc I am genuinely so appreciated that you share any of your writing with us at all. I would literally pay you to write an epilogue or another chapter either in the auction or as part of all right bc I cannot survive without knowing where Draco has been and what he’s been up to, Hermione finally being able to tell him she loves him in person, and that reunion sex BOTH the night before he goes to Azkaban and immediately when he gets out LMAO. I’m sorry as much as I love Draco, YOU, JULES, HAVE BEWITCHED ME BODY AND SOUL AND HEART AND MIND AND I’m permanently incapable of recovering from this 🧡
Anonymous said: Will we get to know what Draco was up to when he was away? Also, I died a little after the grand finale of the auction. Thank you so much for everything and I love you so much.
Lol just kidding. No further stories/epilogues are planned. The story ends there with the intention that the timelines converge with The Right Thing To Do. The HEA is implied. We talked in more depth about where Draco was on the podcast, but essentially he was at an uncharted Malfoy estate with Kreacher.
Anonymous said: SPOILER WARNING HELLO please..... my soft little heart at the nod to pansy x neville....... i literally teared up i adore them so 😭😭😭 the ending trials were wonderful and sad in all the right ways, you’re brilliant at writing tension! and the bittersweet moment with ron, ugh, perfect. the end of an era!! i almost don’t want it to be so!!!
user062900 said: I’m crying I’m actually crying what a journey wow. I just have no words I’m i just it’s so beautifully written and perfect. Thank you so much for writing the series it gave me an insane amount of joy to look forward to every chapter❤️❤️❤️
Anonymous said: I can't believe that the Auction is over. I started to read it after you updated to chapter 19, first WIP I ever read, and I just finished chapter 41. Your writing is utterly gorgeous and I 'm so happy I competed to reading literally all of your writing. The last chapter was like a punch in the gut, in the best way. There was a happy ending without any sacrifices of plot or character development. But I still really want to know what Draco was up to in his boxers, and where he got his clothes.
Anonymous said: I've finished reading TA (beautiful btw 100/10) & decided to spend the whole night catching up on TRTTD & the pinning - ugh ✨immaculate✨ i love the way you write draco love for hermione & vice versa, to be willing to sacrifice everything for a person without expecting ANYTHING in return nor knowing if the feelings are mutual but that doesn't matter b/c you love them so much.😭😭Sorry for the long ask but TA & TRTTD had me on an emotional rollercoaster that I had to show my love for them. I hope you're doing well!💖
docmartinis said: ahh the final chapter made me cry :( i loved it tho, amazing work !!
mxstyassasxin said: Ahskfhagafskdhshk!!!!!!! I LOVED IT! Thank you so so much for writing such brilliance. The links with TRTTD were perfect 💖 I'm so damn happy right now!!
Anonymous said: I’M CRYING!!!! That ending killed me. This story will haunt me for years
Anonymous said: I love that you had it end at Cornerstone. The dance allusion. Full circle indeed. I am speechless.
puresteph said: Just want to say, I loved the ending! You all did fabulous and although I will miss it, I hope you all have a lovely rest, drink some beverage of your preference, your world has been a big part of my 2020 and has been there when I truly needed it. I will be forever grateful to you for that. I’m totally doing a reread in the New Year! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! 💚
Anonymous said: The ending was beautiful. I was at the edge of my seat waiting for when they would be reunited and it was perfect. The threads and knots that you have woven through the entire universe all met up at a single place. It was fitting in a way of taking a breathe and releasing it! This entire project was filled with soo much noise that the quietness of the ending is truly fitting. It’s like when the background music of a movie quiets out slowly after being loud throughout the whole movie.
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hii! thank you so much for this ask I can’t believe I hadn’t though of doing this before!
most of these authors are people that I have talked with at least once before, and I can vouch for their character 1000%. reading their writing is so much more gratifying not only because it’s well written, but because of the satisfaction of knowing that they are truly good individuals as well. I am also thinking about doing one of these recs for artists and other content creators as well if anyone would be interested in that!
I'm in the middle of midterms right now so my brain is very scattered and I'm sure I’ve forgotten some people, but know that there is no way I could possibly list all of the wonderful authors that have made a difference in my life. but please check out these authors and leave them some love if you do! as always, please stick to your own interests and don’t spread any hate!
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please let me know if I have used any incorrect pronouns or linked anything incorrectly, or if you'd like me to unlink to something! :)
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in no particular order:
✰ falsegoodnight
ao3 | @risthebrave | twitter
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, a/b/o, soulmates, uni au’s
personal recs: x , x , x , x
where do I start? the plots she comes up with are 10/10, the writing is absolutely amazing, and she’s just generally a wonderful and considerate person. you can just tell by reading her work how passionate she is about writing when you read her work. each and every one of her fics is a huge yes from me and I'm so excited to for all of her wips! and it definitely doesn’t hurt that she’s an amazing person in general either!
✰ pinkvinyl
ao3 | @pinkvinyl | twitter
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, pwp
personal recs: x
they only have one work out as of this date but oh boy it’s so so good!! the imagery here is just on an entirely different level. they make it so easy to visualize the scenes and it makes the fics that much more lovely to read! (+ happy birthday ashley!)
✰ outropeace
ao3 | @outropeace | twitter
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, a/b/o, soulmates
personal recs: x , x , x
andy is amazing!! I just finished their most recent fic last night and I'm obsessed. I love the dialogue with their works and they always manage to write raw emotion so beautifully. the angst is wonderful as well! their work is always just the right amount of length and detail to always leave you wanting more :)
✰ faeriestyles
ao3 | @yvesaintlourent | twitter
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, trailer park! harry, a/b/o, pwp
personal recs: x
I'm not entirely sure why hayley doesn’t think her fics are anything less than amazing. she only has two out currently but I can’t tell you how excited I am to see some of what she’s been teasing on twitter! she has a gift with her scenes! the way she describes the settings makes you feel like you’re there with the characters, and it’s easy to get lost in the words (in the best way!).
✰ allwaswell16
ao3 | @allwaswell16 | twitter
common work tags/tropes: cowboy au, assassin au, bottom Louis, bottom harry, a/b/o, soulmates, uni au’s, hate to love, vampires, drabbles, football, royal au’s, side ziam
personal recs: x , x , x , x
TONS of awesome fics to choose from! there’s definitely something for everyone here. anitra is a lovely person in general and I, as well as many others, appreciate her dedication to writing consistently lovely fics over and over again. I still haven’t made my way through all of them yet but I have no doubt I’ll love them! she also runs a *podcast* for other fic writers and reviews which spreads so much positivity and happiness in our corner of the fandom :) she’s amazing!
✰ smittenwithlouis
ao3 | @smittenwithlouis | twitter
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, fantasy au’s, magic, hybrid Louis, mythical creatures
personal recs: x , x
super super talented! their fics are always well written and they’re probably my favorite fantasy writer in the fandom!! I really like the magic elements and the different takes on popular mythical tropes, and you can really feel the emotion through the dialogue and the settings. despite having a lot of fantasy aspects, every fic feels very realistic which is usually very hard to do with these topics!
✰ lads_laddylads
ao3 | @lads-laddylads | twitter
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, a/b/o, pwp, vampires, uni au’s
personal recs: x , x , x
I'm a sucker for literally all of emma’s storylines. I think I've reread her most recent fic about five times now! even after not writing for a bit it’s clear that the talent never left! she’s definitely got some classics in her portfolio and I can’t wait to see what’s coming :)
✰ whoknows
ao3 | @crazyupsetter
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, canon elements, dom/sub, a/b/o, supernatural / fantasy elements, drabbles, pwp, hybrid Louis
personal recs: x , x , x , x , x , x
I'm pretty sure everyone already knows about this author but they’re so incredibly talented and their fics are some of my favorites so I couldn’t leave them off of this list! they have thirty two lovely fics as of this day to choose from for this fandom, as well as a few for others as well. they’re another author that has something for everyone! there’s just something about the way they write that lets you get lost in it. I always finish their fics with a smile on my face and feeling fulfilled from another wonderful read!
✰ itjustkindahappened
ao3 | @tequiladimples
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, fluff, mythology, drabbles
personal recs: x
I still need to finish reading the rest of their works but I cannot say enough about ‘collision’! this author’s attention to detail and dedication to accuracy and descriptions in their writing is just incredible! you can tell just how much time and effort went into it, and, in my opinion, it was so so worth it! I admire them so much :) it’s so refreshing when these kinds of tropes are well done and you can just get lost in the writing from the first word down to the last line!
✰ delsicle
ao3 | @eeveelou
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, a/b/o, ‘thick alpha’ verse, pwp, dunkirk inspired works, mpreg, polyamory, some dark themes / horror, Alex from dunkirk, drabbles
personal recs: x , x , x , x , x
another fandom favorite! I've been absolutely obsessed with ‘feeling it out’ since it was first published! they write a/b/o (and everything else!) so well that they make it look easy! the characterizations are so unique and I've never read anything like them before - I can’t get enough! I always look forward to their posts and already know it’ll be one of my new favorites!
✰ jaerie
ao3 | @jaerie
common work tags/tropes: a/b/o, bottom Louis, bottom harry, canon elements, gender swap, drabbles, mpreg, historical au’s, pwp
personal recs: x , x , x ,
I really admire this author because of the way they tend to go against the grain. they write the things they want and it’s obvious that they enjoy it, and I really admire their ability to do so! there are tons of options here as well! (check the tags before reading!)
✰ louizsv
ao3 | @louizsv
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, a/b/o, d/s dynamics, vampires, some fantasy / supernatural elements
personal recs: x , x
their first fic still has me absolutely floored - it’s definitely one of my all time favorites! their writing is usually between 10k - 20k but it’s amazing the amount of detail and plot they can articulate in that length. if you’re looking for a simple, cute, lovely read, you’ve chosen the right author! :)
✰ brooklyn_babylon
ao3 | @brooklyn-babylon
common work tags/tropes: bottom harry, pwp
personal recs: x
I'm not sure if they want me to tag their main account so I'll just tag the one above :) this author definitely has a way with words! I only found their work recently and it hasn’t disappointed throughout the many rereads in the time since. they write tension and emotion beautifully and their characterization is lovely! I'm looking forward to anything else they might publish!
✰ 2tiedships2
ao3 | @2tiedships2 | twitter
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, a/b/o, enemies to lovers, fake dating, fluff
personal recs: x , x , x
pretty sure I've already talked about this author several times but I couldn’t leave them off! their fics are written so beautifully and realistically that you cannot put it down until it’s over. the first time I found them I fell down a rabbit hole and read all of their works within the week! I reread their fics on a monthly basis and I have absolutely no regrets.
✰ disgruntledkittenface
ao3 | @disgruntledkittenface
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, bottom harry, drabbles, d/s elements, gender swapping / girl direction, hurt/comfort, fluff
personal recs: x , x
I so much admire the variety in these fics, as well as the time and dedication this author has put forth for readers. it’s obvious how much they love writing! everything from the meet-cute’s to the smut is exceptionally well written and immersive. their work has been and will always be very close to my heart , so if you check them out please leave them some love! :) (also please make sure to check the tags before you read!)
✰ summerwine
ao3 | @smrwine
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, pwp, feminization, dom/sub
personal recs: x , x , x
I'm sure this author is also no stranger! they truly have a gift for writing such aesthetically pleasing and wonderfully worded fics, stock full with dreamy settings and descriptions. their writing is just on a whole different kind of genre and I don’t think I'll ever get tired of reading and rereading their works!
✰ loadedgunn
ao3 | @loaded-gunn
common work tags/tropes: bottom harry, bottom Louis, pwp, dom/sub, gender swap / girl direction
personal recs: x , x , x
reading this author’s fics is almost like you’re being allowed into a private moment between the characters. sometimes I even hold my breath when I'm reading so I don’t disturb the moment! this writing is soft and lovely and every single scene is thick with emotion in the best way. the chemistry between their characters is insane!
✰ edensrose
ao3 | @holdingthornsandroses | twitter
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, historical au
personal recs: x
I have yet to read this author’s second work but I have no doubt it will be just as absolutely amazing as the first one was! I am amazed at their ability to twist such a classic storyline and completely make it feel like their own, and to do so effortlessly. I adore their attention to detail and originality in their fics and I can’t wait until I have some time to dig into their latest one! (and it helps that they’re just a very lovely person!)
✰ angelichl
ao3 | @angelichl
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, bottom harry, uni au’s, a/b/o, dom/sub, supernatural elements, drabbles
personal recs: x , x , x
reading this author’s work is like getting immersed in another world. I have yet to find another author that can so beautifully write this melancholic and yet morally satisfying type of aura through their words. this is another person that writes dialogue and emotion very tactfully, and it really resonates when reading. (check the tags!)
✰ istajmaal
ao3
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, bottom harry, phone sex operator fic, pwp, dom/sub, gender swapping
personal recs: x , x , x , x , x , x
oh boy I'm already sweating! I really really enjoy the way that this author describes and I hope they come back at some point! all of their storylines are so unique and very refreshing. not to mention how they have a way of writing smut that literally has me so hooked into the story that I forget to breathe sometimes! truly a fantastic writer!
✰ mercutionotromeo
ao3 | @mercutionotromeo
common work tags/tropes: bottom harry, pwp, daddy kink, dom/sub, fluff, drabbles, gender swapping, light age play
personal recs: x , x , x , x , x , x
one of my all time favorite authors!!! I've been reading their works for years now and I still can’t get enough. it’s soft and lovely and warm and just very very comforting in general. they have a way of making their fics seem like an entire little world no matter how short or long they are. they haven’t written in a bit but I'll continue dutifully waiting on a notification!
✰ sunflowerstyles
ao3 | @sunflowerstyles
common work tags/tropes: bottom Louis, hurt/comfort, daddy kink,
personal recs: x , x
this author is kind of like the b!L version of mercutionotromeo, at least in my opinion. their last fic was published in 2016 but I've reread their work so many times since then in hopes they'll come back at some point! this person does a wonderful job with angst & hurt/comfort and when I'm in the mood for those tropes these fics are definitely some of my first contenders! (make sure to check the tags! some of the hurt/comfort aspects may be triggering for some readers). lots of emotion and very soft, loving fics!
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please let me know if you need any more! happy reading and I hope you find some more lovely authors to choose from! :)
#ask#fic recs#reposting this because it took me all day and I don't like the way the other one posted
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Prompt idea: AU meeting Bucky on a flight back to nyc, hitting it off but neither has the guts to ask for #s and regret it, but they run into each other later
pairing: bucky x reader
You’d made it to your terminal with minutes to spare. Your chest is heaving from violently running from one part of LAX to the other, dragging your broken, three-wheeled suitcase lamely behind you. Nevertheless--you make it, passport and boarding pass between your teeth, sweat pooling in the small of your back. You don’t run, you absolutely don’t run, but you make an exception for the two hundred and fifty dollars you’d spent on this flight back to JFK. And the wages you would otherwise miss if you didn’t make it back to New York City tonight.
Relief flooding you, you quickly join the back of the queue heading out onto the plane. You manically check your passport, hoping you’d not managed to drop something on the way over. Because that would just be typical you, wouldn’t it?
“That is some impeccable timing you’ve got there.”
You look up from your frantic scanning of essential documents and see a man--also travelling alone, by the looks of it, the space between him and the couple in front too wide to be friends or relatives--his grin teasing and light. If you weren’t sweating enough already, the gaze of this man would probably do it. Blue eyes, tired from travel, maybe. Dark hair. Very pretty. Extremely pretty.
You attempt to pull yourself together, throwing him a slightly flustered smile back. The queue moves gradually forwards and you tug your unwieldy suitcase forward, grimacing as it squeaks loudly linoleum. “Let’s say that punctuality is not one of my strong suites.”
The man rubs his eyes in exhaustion. “And let’s say that I’m the exact opposite.”
“You’re one of those people who arrives at departures like seven hours early, huh?”
“Eight.” He smiles, and you notice his hand luggage is a neat little backpack, unlike your ten-year-old faithful monster half-broken at your feet. “Need to leave plenty of time for duty free, you know?”
He’s not holding any paper bags from the expensive cosmetics counters, no cut price bottles of wine, not even any snacks. Not a shopaholic, just anxious. You’re flustered, late, but not unobservant, even of strangers. “I mean, I wouldn’t. As much as the bargain Chanel was calling my name, I did literally just sprint here. I think my sister thinks I’m insane.”
His expression is tongue-in-cheek. “Not just your sister.”
“That’s a brave statement from someone I’ve just met.” You run a hand through your mussed-up hair in an attempt to tame it, not helped by the humid LA heat. Attractive man is talking to you, after all. That doesn’t happen so often. “You always like that?”
“Not always,” he says, but his sentence is cut short as he reaches the front of the queue and hands one of the stewardesses his boarding pass and passport. You jerk your bag off to the side to the second open desk, letting another go through your documents, but by the time you’re finished (as always, the lady seems to scrutinise every pixel in your photograph--your misjudged bangs from three years ago don’t make you look that different, surely) the gentle, teasing man has gone.
-
The air hostess directs you to your seat at the back of the plane and you find you’re in one of the sections to the right, not really looking at the other passengers as you try to find row F. When you eventually find where you’re supposed to remain for the duration of the flight, you blink in surprise.
“Mad girl,” To his credit, the man looks just as surprised at the coincidence as you do, looking away from the phone in his hand. “You sitting here too?”
“Yeah.” You half smile, struggling to stuff your bag in the overhead locker. He clambers out to help but you manage to squeeze it, wedge it in between his backpack and the lady in front’s briefcase. “And for the record, my punctuality aside, I’m not actually insane. Probably more verging along the lines of ridiculously ordinary.”
“I happen to think that ordinary is a myth,” he replies, subtly scanning your figure as you slide into the seat beside him. He has a copy of McEwan’s Atonement on his open tray, dog-eared and yellowed, perhaps borrowed from a friend. “Never met anyone ordinary in my life.”
“You might have to take that back after spending five and a half hours in my company.”
His glance is bemused as he shifts the headphones looped round his neck--you can hear faint conversation, listening to an audiobook or podcast of some sort. “I’m Bucky, by the way. Well. James. But everyone calls me Bucky.”
“(Y/N),” you offer in return, “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.”
-
It’s funny, because not once in the many years you’ve been old and responsible enough to travel alone has anyone engaged in as much conversation with you. For someone clearly so anxious about flying Bucky is open and friendly and funny and you think, maybe this is his coping mechanism. Then again--you can feel something lingering below the surface, something that makes you feel that you’re actually getting on, that you could have met in any place in any town and felt exactly the same. He asks about your family and you ask about his. Apparently he was in LA because his little sister is at film school and crippled by homesickness, so his body in her apartment for a few days made her feel a little less alone, a little less far away. He knows you’re a photographer, spending the last six days taking pictures for a client’s wedding on Venice Beach.
A couple of hours into the flight you begin to scroll through movies on the screens in the back of the seat, discussing the ones you both have or haven’t seen. He likes everything other than films about space--they give him existential horror--and you’re a bit wary around anything scary, so his finger hovers over Paddington 2.
“Surely a film about a well-mannered bear with a British accent can’t cause any problems,” he says, offering one of the headphones he’s plugged in between the seats. He wants you to watch a movie with him. Literally with him.
Well. You’re not going to say no. You take the ear-bud and pop it in, easing back into your chair, the film entertaining but his bright facial expressions even more so.
-
He tenses as the plane lands, his knuckles white round the arms of his seat. You wonder if it would be cool to splay your hand over his own, squeezing it in an attempt to calm his nerves. But you don’t know him, really. You don’t know him well enough to do that. And you wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
So you lay back, close your eyes, feeling just a bit ridiculous as a vacuum opens in your stomach.
-
You’re tempted to ask him for his number as you make your way to the luggage carousel, walking in step with him. Instead you’re both enveloped in silence. Instead of actually, you know, fucking saying anything, you spend so much time trying to consider the words rather than biting the bullet and just doing it. Your lack of punctuality doesn’t just extend to your inability to make it anywhere until the last minute.
You often don’t say things until it’s too late, too.
“Have you got anyone waiting for you at arrivals?” he asks, pulling a cap from inside his bag over his head. The airport is packed, as usual, and you keep getting thrown around by tourists in sunhats and rushing businessmen. His hands grip round your shoulders to steady you immediately, towering above you.
You like him. You like him you like him you like him.
“Nope,” you reply, and a curious look passes over his face. The luggage carousel is in view and yours comes by but Bucky reaches out first, placing it down next to you. His doesn’t come long after. “What about you?”
“Nah. We could share a cab, if you want?” You usher out in the main entrance where you can see the black 11pm sky, hazy with the artificial orange from the lights in the city. “I never asked. Which part of the city are you from?”
“Queens.”
“Ah,” he grimaces, “I’m Brooklyn. That’s quite the distance.”
“In opposite directions.” You wonder if you visibly sink, melting between the tiles on the floor. “It’s cool, I was going to get the subway anyway.”
“We could go Queens first, I don’t mind--”
There looks to be hundreds of cabs lined up outside along the entrances, people piling in and out and journeying back into the city. You’re stood opposite each other and he’s looking down at you, face conflicted, but you know it’s stupid for him to share a car with you all the way to Queens only to have to spend even longer to get back to his own place.
Just ask him for his number, you fucking moron. This doesn’t have to be the end.
Your mouth opens, the vowels and the consonants on the edge of your tongue but again. Again your words fail to come, trailing behind you like your dumbass suitcase with its missing wheel. “No, it’s okay. I’ll get the train.”
“I...” Bucky starts, and for a moment you think he’s going to be the one who asks. The one who says he doesn’t want this to be the first and only time you meet. But it’s just your luck you meet someone almost as useless about these things as you are. “I guess I’ll see you?”
“Yeah.” You swallow hard. “See you.”
He looks over you desperately for a second, wondering if he might touch you. A goodbye squeeze of the shoulder, maybe a hug, but instead he rests his arms at his sides and gives you one last sweet smile before heading into a cab. You wait until his cab disappears before you decide to move. You can’t bring yourself to do so until then.
-
As soon as you get back to your apartment you face plant your pillow and scream into the fabric for at least five minutes.
-
The months pass quickly as they always seem to do and while Bucky stays in the back of your mind--mainly because every other man you meet is nowhere near as attractive as him, physically or otherwise--you don’t let it weigh you down. You know the possibility of ever meeting him again are next-to-nothing, and who the fuck spends their time pining after a man they met once on a plane? You’re often quite pathetic, but not that pathetic.
It’s July when you’re contacted to photograph the wedding of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts out in the country, the weather warm and the sky faultless blue. An old, crumbling manor house serves as the perfect backdrop for the big day, the ceremony itself held in the grassy, wildflower-adorned grounds in front of the porch. You follow around the staff as they prepare in a dusty pink summer dress, snapping some photographs of the exterior before the guests arrive for the vows. Eventually, you trail into the kitchen, hoping to get some pictures of the cake before it is cut and distributed out.
It’s then--it’s then you hear a familiar voice, shouting for the head caterer.
“Hey, I was just checking that--”
He pauses when his eyes settle on you. You almost drop your incredibly expensive camera into a bowl of flan.
“(Y/N)?” James says, mouth swinging open like a door on a loose hinge, “Jesus. I didn’t...”
“I’m the photographer,” you reply, like it isn’t obvious. You’re just surprised. “I’m Tony and Pepper’s photographer.”
He blinks. “I’m a friend of Tony’s. My God. Fate was really smiling on me today, huh?”
You grin is borderline ridiculous. “I think maybe she was.”
-
He writes his number on his reservation card with Natasha Romanoff’s lipstick. The night is in full swing. Everyone is either drunk or dancing. Mostly both.
“Not letting you go this time, mad girl,” he says, his body coming closer and closer to yours until your barely centimetres apart, your breathes hanging heavy. His number is pressed into your palm. “I think I’ve been hitting my head against my bedroom wall every single day since I got into that darn cab. My landlord is going to be suing me for damages.”
You bite your lip, clutching your camera. “And I’m being a really bad photographer right now.”
“Oh, come on, no-one will notice. I know for a fact Tony’s finished almost a whole bottle of Scotch.” His smile is almost shy. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you?”
“No idea.” You shrug, but your eyes remain focused on his. “I think I mentioned there is absolutely nothing remarkable about me, Bucky.”
“And I think I mentioned that I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t remarkable.” His hand finds yours and you let your fingers relax in his grip, curl round them. “Dance?”
You should be taking pictures. You should be doing your job. But there is a handsome man in front of you with a smile that could make the sun rise and put the whole fucking night sky to shame. There is a man in front of you who you watched leave once already. There is a man in front of you who wants to dance, who wrote down his number in Chanel Rouge Allure, who has spent the last six months with you hidden in his dreams and a dent in his wall as a receipt.
You can’t not dance with him.
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#I CANT RESIST AUS OKAY#im sorry about the fluff#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fic#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#marvel#mcu#marvel cinematic universe
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The Two Princes
Summary: An AU based on the podcast The Two Princes.
When Prince Henry sets out to break the mysterious curse that's destroying his kingdom, he's ready to face whatever dastardly villain or vile monster stands in his way. What he isn't prepared for are the bewildering new emotions he feels when he meets the handsome Alex, a rival prince on a quest to save his own realm. Forced to team up, the two princes soon discover that the only thing more difficult than saving their kingdoms is following their hearts.
--
Chapter 1: Once Upon a Time
It's late at night in the Kingdom of the West when a shadow slips quietly down the castle's east corridor. It moves away from the royal vault with the silent confidence of someone prepared for just such a heist as this one, a parcel clutched under one arm. As it disappears around a corner, a dog starts to bark. Guards clamor. The shadow grips his prize closer and runs. His heart pounds, his breath comes in gasps, his chest heaving against the heavy book clutched to it. He's almost out, almost to the village that surrounds the castle. Once there, he can find an alleyway and find out what's really going on in the kingdom. Just a sprint through the courtyard and he's there.
He rounds the corner to the courtyard and is met with a host of guards, swords drawn. Behind them, the gate he'd opened earlier is slowly closing. He could still try to escape, but he knows it won't go well.
The book is ripped from his hands, a guard already taking it back to the locked vault where it belongs, keeping both it and the knowledge it contains safe from anyone who would misuse it. Or really, anyone who would dare glance at its pages. The thief is tied up and dragged to the throne room, shoved to his knees before the queen. His head hangs, and his shoulders slump forward in defeat.
"Well, villain, you led our knights on quite a chase," Queen Mary says. "Now, take off that cloak and uncover your face. A guard pulls off the hood, and the room gasps as Prince Henry blinks in the sudden light.
"Henry?"
"Hi, Gran." With that, Mary stands, grabs her grandson by the ear, and pulls him toward their personal chambers. She ignores his complaints until they’re alone, then slams the door and turns on him.
"Oh, you are in big trouble this time. How dare you embarrass me like that?”
“I’m sorry! I know the forbidden book is, well, forbidden, but I have so many questions about the forest, and no one will talk to me, but that book—“
“Maybe no one will talk to you because there’s nothing worth talking about, Henry.”
“It’s taking over our kingdom!”
“It’s not taking over anything.”
“There are trees and vines everywhere. You can’t cross the street without tripping over them! They’re killing our crops, and the animals we hunt for food have all left, and livestock don’t have anything to eat. Our kingdom is being squeezed to death, and no one is doing anything about it. From what I've been able to put together, this all started in the heart of the forest; if we go there—“
“No one is setting foot in that forest! Besides, even if this were a problem, it wouldn’t be your responsibility. You’re a child!”
"Stop that! Stop dismissing me; I'm almost eighteen." He's snapping at her now, and he knows that's not a good idea, but he can't help it.
"Henry! Such an ungrateful child. We have a wonderful life, with a beautiful castle and marvelous parties. Until recently, our people have been moderately happy with us. We have no reason to go looking for trouble.”
"Our kingdom is on the verge of collapse! We don't need to go looking for trouble; it's found us."
“Oh, Henry." She's got a hand on his shoulder, and for a second, Henry's reminded of his Mum. But Mum hasn't talked to him like this in years; not since they got word of his dad's death. "You have so much to learn about how to rule," his gran continues, "but the first rule is simple: ‘life can be perfect, as long as you don’t look too close.’”
“Gran, that sounds... criminally incompetent."
"Well, if you don't like that lesson, How's this one? You're grounded." She's taken her hand off his shoulder, and any memory of his Mum is gone. She turns on her heel and storms out of his room, pulling the door shut behind her, and Henry hears the lock click.
"Hey! You can't lock me in my room forever!"
"You're welcome to try to climb out your window and scale down the tower again, but I warn you, there are fresh crocodiles in the moat, and I've been much too busy to feed them. Kisses!" With that, Henry knows she's gone. He sinks to the floor with a sigh, his back pressed against the door as he buries his face in his arms. There's a wet nose pressed against his cheek, and he reaches over to rub David's ears.
"Hey, bud. Looks like we're grounded. Again." David whines, climbing into Henry's lap as Henry sighs, leaning his head back against the door. He is so, so tired of being treated like a child. He's tired of being talked down to and underestimated and ignored. And all of a sudden, he misses his dad. If his dad were here, then he and Henry's mum would do something. Even better, they would have stopped the forest before it ever became a problem. They would have fought it back together years ago, and they wouldn't have to worry about anything. Gran wouldn't be driving him and everyone else up the wall, and the kingdom wouldn't be on the verge of collapse, and Henry wouldn't be alone.
Eventually, at David's gentle urging, Henry gets up from the floor and calls into bed. David hops in to join him, his head resting on Henry's side and rising and falling with Henry's breaths. Henry falls asleep eventually, but the forrest invades his dreams, twisting vines twirling through his subconscious as a rumbling invades his room. He wakes up with a start, but the rumbling continues, swirling around him until it coalesces into a whispering voice: “Come to me. Henry, come to me. Come… to the forest.”
The voice disappears in a clap of thunder, and the next thing Henry knows, he’s waking up on the floor, his gran and her entourage sweeping into the room.
"Rise and shine!" she announces, pulling him off the floor and scolding David as he barks. Henry groans.
"I had the weirdest dream last night. There was this voice—"
"That's nice, now stop talking," Gran interrupts. She throws open the curtains, and light streams into the room. Henry rubs at his eyes as she announces, "I have the most wonderful surprise for you. I was thinking about what you said, and you’re right, it is time I stopped treating you like a child and started treating you like the great prince I know you can be.”
Henry scrambles to his feet, barely able to believe his ears. “Wait, for real? You mean that? So you’re going to let me go to the forest?”
“What? Of course not; I should have been more clear. You’re not stepping foot in that forest. No, I was thinking, since you’re turning eighteen, wouldn’t it be something if I threw you a great big, once-in-a-lifetime—“
"Party." All the excitement is gone in a heartbeat.
"—Wedding!"
"What?"
"I know! Genius. People love a royal wedding. They laugh, they cry, they eat too much cake..."
"I know what you're doing. I am not getting married just because you want a distraction."
"Well obviously, silly. You're getting married for love." She tries to rest a hand on his shoulder, but Henry shrugs it off the second it lands.
"But I'm not in love."
"Oh, dear, is that what you're worried about? Don’t you give it a second thought. I’ve taken care of everything.”
“Wait, what does that mean?” It sounds almost reasonable, and coming from his gran, he doesn’t trust it for a moment. There’s a knock on the door, and despite Henry’s protestations that he’s in his pajamas and in no way ready to face anyone, his Gran throws it wide, shushing him. Shaan, her chamberlain, comes in, and Henry relaxes a bit. Shaan has always been the most understanding of his grandmother’s staffers, so maybe he’ll be able to talk some sense into her.
“Have you finished the proclamation?” she asks, looking smug.
“Yes, your majesty. Would you like to hear it?”
“If you would be so good.”
He clears his throat, unrolling a scroll in front of his face. “To all the eligible young ladies of the kingdom, are you tired of being unmarried and unloved? Do you crave meaning in your otherwise meaningless existence? Then bring your dancing shoes, an itemized dowry, and a list of family connections to her majesty’s royal ball, where you can win the opportunity to marry His Royal Highness Prince Henry George Edward James Fox Moutchristen-Windsor—“
“What?!” Henry interrupts, and Shaan spares him an apologetic glance before going back to reading.
“--That’s right, at the conclusion of tonight’s ball, the prince will pluck one lucky lady from a life of obscurity and mediocrity by joining with her in holy matrimony. Draw bridge opens promptly at eight PM.”
Henry gawks at his grandmother and Shaan, but his grandmother just smiles. “Perfection. Send it out immediately.”
“Yes, your majesty.” Shaan turns to the door, sparing a last apologetic look toward Henry.
“Wait, no, you can’t—“ the door shuts, and Henry turns to his gran. “Call him back. Gran, call him back right now.”
“Don’t be silly. Shaan is a very busy man, and between you and me, I do not pay him enough for what I put him through. Now. Let’s figure out what you’re going to wear to the ball. I know this is a rather bold suggestion, but I’m thinking: ruffles.”
She holds up a disgustingly ruffled shirt, and Henry swats it away. “Gran, enough! No! I don’t care what scheme you’ve concocted or what kind of distraction you need, but I’m not tying the knot with a complete stranger just so you don’t have to face the reality of what’s happening to our kingdom! I refuse to be a part of this insanity any longer. Do you understand? This is me, putting my foot down. I’m not getting married, and I will go to the forest and break the curse, and there is nothing you or anyone else can do to stop me.”
She sighs, coming closer to rest a hand on his shoulder again. “Oh, Henry. I’m so sorry. I know how ridiculous I must seem to you, but you must believe me, I only want what’s best for you.”
With that, Henry feels all the fight drain out of him. His shoulders slump, and when he speaks, his voice is quieter than it has been all morning. “I know.”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you, nothing. You have to believe that.” Her hand moves to cup his face, and Henry closes his eyes and lets himself believe she actually means it.
“I do. Of course I do.”
“Good. I knew you’d understand.” Her tone is suddenly cold again, and Henry has only a split second to process the shift before she calls, “guards!”
“Wait, what? What are you doing?” He demands, moving away and watching as armored guards fill his room.
“Escort Prince Henry to the royal ballroom and tie him to his throne.”
"What?"
“Come this way, your highness,” a guard tells him, grabbing his arm. Henry struggles, but just like last night, he’s no match for the guard.
“No! Hey! Get your hands off of me!”
“I’ll see you at the ball, sweetie,” his gran says, waving as he’s dragged out the door. David’s barking furiously, but another guard has him held back, so he’s powerless to help Henry.
“You can’t tie me up for the rest of the day! What if I have to go to the bathroom?”
“Just hold it, dear. Hold it. For love,” she coos, and the door shuts behind them. Henry gives up fighting, his mind going into overdrive. Maybe he can convince one of the guards to let him go. Philip, the captain of the guard, used to play with him when they were kids. But he sees Philip in the throne room and knows it’s useless. Philip won’t see anything wrong with of all of this. Maybe he can wriggle out of his ropes, or David will come chew him free. Maybe… but he already knows escape from here is hopeless. Once the ball starts, the room will be full enough that there’s a chance he can make his escape. And his gran can’t marry him off if he refuses to go through with the ceremony. He’ll have a chance then, but for now, he’s resigned to waiting.
He watches the clock tick, and at eight PM, the ballroom starts to fill with ladies from around the kingdom. Shaan, stationed behind him, announces them as they come in.
“The lady Verbena. The lady Beatrice. The lady Dorcus.”
From his other side, Henry’s Gran leans forward and says “do try to smile, love. No girl wants a sour puss for a husband.”
“Maybe I’d feel like smiling if these ropes weren’t cutting off my circulation,” he growls at her. She’d come in and secured them herself just before the party, and she’s stronger than she looks.
“The lady June,” Shaan announces, and Henry turns to look at her. He can see her take in the situation for a moment, then that calculating look drops away in favor of a big smile and wide eyes.
“OMG, your highness! It is so great to finally meet you. I am fangirling so hard right now! I am like…obsessed with you.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Henry deadpans. She gives him what might be a sympathetic look before it disappears again behind a bubbly mask.
“Can I just say, I love your outfit? The whole pajamas-and-bondage thing is like…so brave.”
“Um, Lady June, why don’t you tell the prince all about that extremely interesting book you were reading yesterday?” His gran asks, her tone belying just a bit of annoyance. June looks at her with wide eyes.
“Book? What book?”
“The book, dear. The one we discussed,” his gran says, and based on her tone, Henry knows her eyes must be boring holes into June right now. June steadfastly maintains her facade of innocence.
“Oh, right! The book, wink wink. So the other day, I was totally reading this amazing book all about wagons—“
“Dragons.” At this point, Gran just sounds defeated.
“Right, dragons! I’m just like…so obsessed with dragons. I looove reading about them, and talking about them, and spending my life with a certain prince who also has a fondness for smelly, disgusting, fire breathing monsters.” She’s leaned in close to the throne now, and only Henry can hear when she murmurs an apology. Maybe, if he has to pick someone at the end of the night, he’ll pick her, and she’ll help him find a way to escape the wedding. He murmurs a thanks as his gran claps her hands.
“Well, you hear that, Henry? Lady June likes books and dragons! Two of your favorite things!” Gran exclaims, though she and Henry can both tell that the character June’s playing is anything but interested in either of those topics.
“Uh huh. What was the name of the book?”
“Oh, Henry, don’t badger the poor girl—“ his gran starts, but June is having none of it.
She pulls back, the fake smiley persona reinstated. “Trick question! Books don’t have titles.”
“Alright, Lady June, thanks for stopping by. Be sure to enjoy the rest of the party.”
“You didn’t really think that was going to work, did you?”
“Honestly, I thought the odds were 50/50. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Lady Marjorie just arrived, and I have to go say something devastating about her outfit. Don’t fall in love without me!” With that, she sails off into the crowd, leaving Henry to tug at the ropes still tying him to the throne.
“Ugh, this night is never going to end,” he groans aloud.
“Unfortunately not, your highness.” Shaan’s voice from behind him makes him jump, then blush.
“Sorry, Shaan. I didn’t realize you were still here.”
“It’s quite alright. I often forget I’m here myself. You know, you may find this hard to believe, but I was in a…similar situation when I was your age.”
“Oh, really? Did your grandmother tie you to a throne in your pajamas and parade you in front of every girl in the kingdom like a prize pig at a county fair?” He doesn’t mean to snap at Shaan, and he doesn’t deserve it, but Henry can’t fight it. It’s just all getting to be too much, and he’s not sure how long he can sit here before he starts screaming.
“I meant, I too was once expected to marry. And it brought great shame on my family when I refused.”
“You don’t need to lay on the guilt about me doing my duty; Gran’s got that covered, thanks.”
“On the contrary, your highness. While the decision not to marry was a difficult one, I have always stood by my choice, despite what it may have cost me over the years.”
Henry softens. When he looks over at Shaan, the older man is looking out over the crowd, but his usually stoic face is a bit sadder than usual. “Oh. Really? So, you never fell in love? With anyone?”
That gets a bit of a chuckle out of Shaan, though it’s still tinged with sadness. “Oh, goodness, yes. I fell in love many times.”
“Then why didn’t you get married?”
“Because the kingdom was not quite ready for such a marriage.”
“I… I don’t understand.”
“I think your royal highness does.”
“Uh, no, actually, I…I don’t. I mean, I don’t want to get married because I’m seventeen. I mean, whatever you want to get up to in your personal life is up to you; I’m not judging. I—you shouldn’t assume?”
“No, of course not, your highness. Forgive me, if I misspoke.” Any hint of emotion has been wiped off Shaan’s face, but Henry only gets a moment to miss it before Shaan asks, “shall I fetch your grandmother? We still have quite the assortment of eligible ladies waiting to—“
He’s interrupted by a commotion at the front of the room, and Henry strains to see over the mass of people.
“What was that?” The room shakes, and somewhere, he hears June scream as a thick green vine shoves its way through the main door. It bursts into smaller ones, growing more and more quickly as it encompasses the room. Henry can hear swords being drawn amidst the chaos, but he already knows deep down that they won’t do any good.
“The forest is invading! Everyone, take cover. The castle is under attack!” It’s Philip’s voice, and for all the ways he’s hurt him recently, Henry hopes he’s alright. The vines break through the floor, carrying broken pieces of mosaic tile to the ceiling as they curl round pillars and people alike. The guards rush forward to attack, screaming and hacking, but the vines grow to encompass their swords. Then something starts snaking up his leg, and Henry looks down in horror to see the bottom of the throne covered in twisting, snaking vines. He struggles against his restraints, but there’s nothing he can do but groan and tug.
“Somebody, help me!”
No one can hear him, not over the chaos. He pulls and pulls, but suddenly, there’s a sawing noise beside him. He turns to see Shaan carefully cutting at the ropes tying him to the chair, working with the same mechanical precision he applies to everything.
“Thank you,” Henry says, breathless. Shaan nods as Henry pulls himself free, massaging the sore places on his wrists where he’s been tugging against the ropes all night.
“Of course. Now here, take this.”
“What is this?”
“A map. It will take you straight to the Hollow in the heart of the forest, but you must leave immediately. Here. Take my sword—“
“No! I can’t just leave you all in the middle of a battle—“
“You must. The real battle, the battle that will decide the fate of everyone in this kingdom, can only be fought in the Hollow, and only you can fight it.”
“What do you mean?” Henry’s trying to stay calm, but he can hear the fear in his voice.
“There is a prophecy that your grandmother has kept hidden from you. If you want to break the curse, you must get to the Hollow, and once you are there, you must—“
“Look out for the chandelier!” Henry’s not sure who shouts, but suddenly Shaan is rushing forward, shoving Henry out of the way as a chandelier crashes down onto him.
“Shaan!” Henry screams, running to where his head and shoulders are just visible beneath the broken chandelier. “Shaan, can you hear me? Are you okay?”
Shaan’s eyes are unfocused, and he’s clearly struggling to hold his head up. Then his eyes lock onto Henry’s, and he gasps, “go. To the Hollow.”
He slumps down, his eyes closing, and Henry allows himself a single sob before he’s taking Shaan’s sword and running. He goes to his room, changing pajamas for a light armor and finding a sheath for the sword. David whines at his feet, and Henry rubs his ears for a moment before sprinting to the kitchen, where he fills a saddlebag with whatever food he can grab. Then he’s on horseback, galloping away from his home as vines continue to snake around it, though as he looks back over his shoulder, he sees them slowly retreating. He just spurs the horse on, riding as hard as he can for the darkness of the forest.
He urges his horse on, over a last hill and to the pathway through the forest. They’re almost inside when the horse rears on his hind legs, dumping Henry flat on his ass in front of the forest and galloping away with most of the food and supplies. Henry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, clutching the strap of a satchel that holds the map and a day’s worth of food.
“Okay. So it’ll just take me a little longer to get to the Hollow. I’ve got two legs and a sword and this map; I can do this.” He’s just going to march into a cursed forest to do battle with an unknown evil that’s been terrorizing his kingdom for as long as anyone can remember. What could possibly go wrong?
He could swear he hears the forest whisper his name, the same voice that had invaded his dream the night before. He swallows down the fear before it overtakes him and draws Shaan’s sword.
“Alright, forest. You want me? Here I come."
On AO3
Notes:
When I was thinking about writing in June, I was like "what's the gayest thing I can think of?" and it was this. The whole thing was supposed to be out this month, but then I was protesting and busy, but here we are.
--
Also, sometimes you text the group chat "Bi Shaan: thoughts?" and get a bunch of support, so there's my justification for queer Shaan who looks after Henry. The group chat said I could.
--
Want to support the Hannah-Makes-Art fund? You can tip me in ko-fi here!
#my fic: rwrb#henry fox mountchristen windsor x alex claremont diaz#henry fox mountchristen windsor#rwrb au#red white and royal au#rwrb fic#red white and royal blue au#red white and royal blue fic#red white and royal blue#rwrb
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4200 words of headcanon for Strand and Charlie, because I am not a reasonable human being
Inspired by @coffeesuperhero's great post about Strand’s timeline and raising Charlie, I decided to post this. I wrote it as background for a huge AU I’ve been working on where The Black Tapes was cancelled after Season 2 because after Coralee’s return and Strand learning of all the ways he’d been manipulated, he decided he needed to concentrate on putting his life back together and just couldn’t do the show anymore. I have no idea if that story will ever see the light of day, but I’ve developed a LOT of headcanon in the process of kinda sorta writing it, so I might as well share some of it. :)
Strand would have guessed that he'd feel relief when the podcast was over. And he did, in the sense that he would no longer be having details of his personal life put on the Internet for all to hear. He was dreading what would happen when this episode was done being edited and uploaded. He could imagine all of those paranormal charlatans getting a kick out of it; Richard Strand is so closed off to anything he doesn't understand, so arrogant to those who believe, that he drove his own wife away!
Fortunately, he'd had a great deal of practice not caring about what those people thought of him. Though he did cringe to imagine Tannis Braun making a great show of being caring and concerned. Oh, he would mean it in his way, but—well, that was his brand, wasn't it? People who are trying to sell something can easily cultivate an air of gentleness and empathy. After all, they never have to tell any hard truths.
But Tannis Braun didn't matter. None of them mattered. The only ones who mattered were Thomas Warren and the rest of his cult, who had sent him a spy as a wife and then taken her away. Who had been monitoring him his entire adult life, manipulating him into a marriage and jobs to do it.
He hadn’t intended to hurt Alex’s feelings, but yes, he was relieved to be finished with the podcast. But he had to admit that doing it had provided him with a certain structure, and, if he was very honest with himself, some forward momentum that he might have had trouble sustaining on his own. They’d learned more in the past two years than he had in the previous 15, and there was a reason for that.
He supposed he should have said something to her while she was here. Well. Perhaps they’d meet up for lunch sometime, as she’d mentioned. In his experience, these promises were typically hollow, but it was possible.
He took off his jacket and tie and cleared away their teacups. He considered having another cup but decided on a drink instead. After pouring himself a generous whiskey, he turned off the lights on the main floor and went down to the basement. He was going to have to provide all of the organization and momentum for his inquiries now, and he should get to it. And since Alex wasn't going to be coming by anymore, he had a few more items to put up on the wall.
Like the cases Coralee had brought to his attention after leading him to the Empress Hotel. The information on Thomas Warren's background, his family history tracing back to eastern Ohio. The history of the Howland family, also from eastern Ohio. The next thing he needed to do was talk to Cheryl, and he was grateful that he wouldn't have an audience for that. As it was, he was relying on Cheryl extending him some residual goodwill out of guilt for having once believed he might have killed Coralee, but that wouldn't last. He'd put out feelers with some of those genealogy services, inquiring into both sides of his own family and into Warren's, and the results were...well. He was glad he wouldn't have Alex jumping to conclusions about how just because their families founded towns 20 miles apart in the early 19th century, this must be the key to everything.
That willingness to follow what you claimed were meaningless coincidences is what got you here today, part of his brain argued, but he ignored it. He could be open to possibilities without being willing to accept anything and everything that seemed to offer an explanation.
He was also glad Alex wouldn't be around to air his eventual talk with Charlie.
He knew he needed to call her. But what could he say? "I didn't drive your mother away after all"? But in a real way, he had. "I'm sorry I wasted time with some stupid idea that I could find her with psychic abilities instead of doing something useful and taking care of you?" That might help. He had apologized, after he'd given up looking, after Charlie had left, but it was too late then; how could it matter now, 18 years later? But maybe. He could say it again, if she needed it. At least maybe she could understand a little better what had driven him.
He didn't know what time zone she was in right now, so no, he wouldn't call. Or text, even—he didn't want to wake her in the middle of the night; he didn't want to do anything to upset her at all. Email, then. She'd allowed June to give him the address and even answered as long as he didn't use it too often. He went back upstairs and opened up his laptop.
Charlie,
I didn't want to call or text because I don't know what time it is where you are, but I need to talk to you. I have news
.... what could he say? "I have news about your mother?" "about Coralee?" "Coralee's alive."
The podcast was going to air soon; there was no need to keep it a secret, even if his communications were being monitored (and Coralee was right, it was possible). The straightforward way, then. He deleted the last three words and went on:
I saw Coralee today.
She came to me. She said it was because I was in danger and she was trying to keep me safe. I don't know if you've ever listened to the Black Tapes, but this organization we've been investigating, this cult... she's part of it, or she was. She was part of it when she met me. Over time, she came to realize that they were doing things she couldn't support. So when we fought that day on the drive to Big Sur, when she walked off and we couldn't find each other, she took it as an opportunity to get away from them. To disappear. She thought she would be able to come back when she found the evidence she needed to stop them, but the more time passed, the harder it was to come back.
I know this all seems insane, and there's no particular reason you should believe me, except that you have to know I've never lied to you. Whatever my other failings as a parent were, I never lied to you, not once. And I'm not asking you for anything, but I thought you should know. She's alive, she left by her own choice, and she wanted to come back but she never felt that she could.
And she told me to tell you that she loved you. For what it's worth, I think that's true too.
Call me any time, if you'd like. I know this is a lot to take in. Believe me, I know. But at least we can stop wondering. That has to be worth something.
He struggled with signing it, as he always had. "Love," she didn't want. "Sincerely," though true, was something you'd say to a stranger. What was it that he really wanted to say to her? So many things, but this would do.
I hope you're well.
Take care,
Richard
He didn't give himself even a second to hesitate before hitting "Send" and pushing the laptop away. It was the right thing. Charlie deserved to know; she had every right to know. He was sure she'd have questions, and he doubted he'd have any satisfactory answers, but he was willing to try.
He refilled his whiskey. He wished he had someone to talk to about all this. He thought for a moment about calling Alex, but he'd been the one who ended that association. He'd just taken her show away from her. He could hardly expect to lean on her after that.
Maybe he just needed to take his mind off of everything for a while. He could watch a movie, read a book...nothing sounded satisfying, though. He thought about calling the Jacobsons, but no—they could find out from Charlie. He wasn't proud of himself--they were Coralee's parents, and they had a right to know their daughter was alive—but after all these years, when they'd never accepted him even before Coralee's disappearance, never treated him with more than a distant cordiality (and often with less), never considered him part of their family, he'd finally had enough. Their daughter was alive, they didn't need to look for her anymore, and with that, his last tie to them was gone. You'd have thought that finding her alive would make them more connected, not less, but missing her, wondering about her, had been the only thing they'd had in common. They still didn't have her, any of them. So there was nothing between them. They could find out from Charlie.
But that still left him with nothing to do. The research materials for his book were still stacked on his desk, but he could no more imagine going back to that book than he could becoming a monk. He needed to speak with Jenna about pushing the deadline back.
He also had to decide if he was going to stay in Seattle. The house still wasn't anywhere near ready to be sold, but given that he'd finished his lecturing position (it seemed only fair to the students, even if he'd never take a job there again now that he knew who was behind it) and ended the podcast, there didn't seem to be much reason to stay.
Except that it was still his father's house, and his father had worked at the university for two decades before he died, and he still had so many questions about his father's role in all of the cult nonsense that had taken over his life. He didn't like the coincidence of his family having connections to the Pacific Northwest and Alex happening, independently of that, to include him in her podcast, but as far as he could tell it had in fact been a coincidence. She'd explained how she'd ended up calling him, and they both agreed that they couldn't see any way for Warren or anyone else to have manipulated events toward that end. She and Nic had brainstormed professions one day, and Alex had been the one to bring up "ghost hunter" because she'd seen a show on TV a few nights before. And from there, it was logical that his name would come up, as he was roundly despised in the charlatan community.
No, it really had been a coincidence. He didn't actually like coincidences any more than anyone else; he was just able to accept, unlike most people, that in a world with so many possibilities, low-probability events will happen sometimes.
Of course, he'd thought meeting Coralee was a coincidence, or at least, happy chance. But he was damned if he was going to let this cult nonsense turn him into the kind of person who ascribed patterns and meanings and intent to everything he couldn't explain. That way lay madness and religion.
Still, if he meant to start his life over on his own terms, it might be best to leave this place he'd never really chosen. But not yet. There were more answers to be found here first. About his father, and about Thomas Warren.
____________________________________________________________
Charlie called him at 7 the next morning. She traveled a lot, so she always remembered to take time zones into account, but she clearly wasn't willing to wait one more second than necessary for her answers.
"Hello?"
"Yeah, It's Charlie."
There was a brief pause as neither one of them knew quite how to start before Charlie burst out, "Just.... what the hell?"
He sighed. "It's a lot to take in, I know."
"But she's really alive?"
"Yes."
"And she just...left?"
"It was more complicated than that, but, yes. Ultimately, she made the decision to remain missing."
"I don't... why? Why would she do that?" she sounded so young that he could almost imagine putting his arms around her and letting her cry into his shirt like she did when she was small. When he was still her dad. Before everything fell apart.
But he couldn't do that, so he gave her the only comfort he had to offer. He told her the truth, all of it, everything Coralee had told him, everything he had told Alex. When he finished, and she spoke again, it was with tears choking her voice. "So all of it, the marriage, her being my mom, it was all a lie."
"I don't know. I'm still trying to understand how much was the cult, and Coralee doing what she thought was her duty, and how much she genuinely felt." He almost said "I really do think she loved you" but stopped himself, because what kind of loving parent walks away from a child? But Marie had. She'd been ill, and she might well have made the right choice, but it was still a choice. And for that to have happened to Charlie not once, but twice, was so unfair that his chest burned with it. And if he was honest, it had really been three. He'd told himself that leaving had been Charlie's decision, and it had, but she'd been fifteen. He should have tried harder. He should have insisted. He should have shown her that she was wrong, that she did have a father. Instead, he'd proven her right.
"I don't know how much I really give a shit," Charlie said. She sounded drained.
"That's understandable," he agreed.
"So, what happens now? She left again? Is she coming back? Is she—are you still married?"
"Legally, yes, as far as I know we are. But I don't think she's coming back."
"Because she has to fight this cult. The one that thinks you have some kind of special gene that they need. Do I have it? I mean, whatever it is, are they going to be coming after me too? Or Aunt Cheryl?"
"Coralee didn't think so. She had some idea that it might be sex-linked in some way, but regardless, they don't seem to be after you."
"Great." She took a deep breath and sighed. "Well, I guess the good news is, this can't make the family reunions any more awkward."
He chuckled, despite everything. "How have you been?"
"I'm fine. You?"
"There's been a lot happening."
"Yeah, no shit. So is all this going to be on the podcast?"
"Yes. There's one more episode, and then it's done. I decided not to continue."
"Good. I hated that, having all those people in our business."
"I did, too. But without the podcast, I don't know if I ever would have heard from Coralee."
"I guess." She paused. "Look, I need to go. I've got a conference call in about five minutes. Maybe... I don't know. I'll try calling back later on, or emailing, or something."
"I understand," he said, because what else could he say?
____________________________________________________________
To his surprise—he hadn't let himself get his hopes up—she did email him a few days later. As with all of her emails to him, it bore no salutation. Perhaps she didn't know how to address him, or maybe it was just her style.
So I said I'd email, so here I am, but I'm not sure what else I really have to say. Thanks, I guess, for telling me personally. Finding out on Facebook or whatever would have been...well, I would have hated it. And I guess you're right, that knowing is better than not knowing.
If you're hoping that I'll stop being angry with you now that I know what really happened...I guess? It wasn't your fault, I get that. But I've been thinking about what might have been different if I had known then. And I think I still would have left. Because, I don't know, I didn't feel like we were really a family.
I don't have a lot of clear memories of back when it was just you and me. But when you met Coralee, I guess I expected us to be one of those happy TV families, you know? We'd play Monopoly and go to Disney World and whatever, I don't know. Go camping, make S'mores? Stuff families do together.
And you seemed so happy with her, but it felt like, once she was there, you kind of had permission to check out. To spend more time at work, less time talking with me or asking about what I was doing or playing silly games or any of it. You weren't bad, you made sure I had everything I needed and you met with my teachers and you did everything that was your duty, and I know that's more than a lot of people get. And I know it was hard to raise me on your own and maybe you'd just...had enough. But I felt more like your ward than your daughter. Like you loved me but in this abstract way, the way people love their country or something.
So I went to live with grandma and granddad, and at least they were happy to have me around, and having me around seemed to help them even though they were grieving too, you know? And I didn't feel that way with you. And after a while I just stayed. That was my home, I enrolled in school, and you hadn't exactly moved heaven and earth to get me back. I found out from Alex that granddad told you I'd asked to be emancipated. I didn't. I guess he figured he needed to keep me away from you because you were maybe a murderer (and definitely an atheist). But that was a shitty way to do it, and I've told him that.
Still...I listened to the last episode, and you told Alex that when Coralee disappeared, it threatened to take away everything that was good in your life. Like I didn't exist! Or just didn't really matter to your life, except that you'd gotten some woman pregnant and felt like you had to take responsibility for your mistake.
I don't know why I'm saying all this. I guess it's just that for all this time, I've let my anger over Coralee's disappearance be how I avoided thinking about the stuff I was unhappy about before then. And none of that's changed. But yeah, I can let go of being angry with you about what happened with her, about the fights and the days after she disappeared and all of that. I just don't know what that means about what comes next. If anything. I don't think you're a bad person. I really don't. I just wish things had been different when I was a kid. But I'm not 15 years old any more either, you know? So maybe I can work on it. Or we can go on the way we are. I'm fine. I'm happy. I have a good life.
Anyway. That's where I'm at. Just so you know, I'm going to be in Europe for most of the next three weeks, so there's an eight-hour time difference. Also it's a work trip, so I'm not sure how much time I'll have. I'm not bailing, just letting you know why I might not be all that communicative.
Charlie
He'd never thought that he could ever again cry as hard as he had when Coralee disappeared—or when she returned. He'd been wrong.
____________________________________________________________
Charlie,
I appreciate your honesty in your last email. I know it can't have been easy to write that. And I know that I have had my failings as a father. It's not an excuse, but I hope you'll allow me to explain some of why that is.
You mentioned that it must have been difficult raising you on my own. And it was, but not because I didn't love you. I just didn't know what I was doing, and I had very little guidance. My mother was dead, I still hated my father for not being there when she died, and certainly my friends had no more more idea than I had. Men weren't expected to be single parents then—I suppose it's unusual even now—so I never really felt comfortable with the mothers watching their children at the playground and that sort of thing. I didn't belong there. Marie's parents—well, let's just say they never softened toward you even after you were born. So it was just the two of us. And when all you needed were the basics of life, I could make that work. But as you got older and I realized I was going to have to not just keep you fed and dressed but navigate discipline, making friends, and basically raising a full-fledged human being, I didn't have confidence in my ability to do all that successfully. I loved my mother, and she was good to us, so I tried to follow her example. But so much of what she did was influenced by the times—and by my father, and he was someone I didn't want to emulate.
When I met Coralee, I was relieved because even though her own upbringing was obviously less than ideal, she was warm and patient and kind and seemed to know exactly the right thing to do or say when you had a problem. I think that even if I had felt less strongly about her, I might have considered marrying her just because you deserved to have a parent like that. And you adored her. It wasn't long before it felt like you were more her child than mine. She understood you better, she was more affectionate...and you were thriving. She was the one you turned to, more often than not, when you needed something or had something exciting to share.
When I write it out like that, it sounds as if I pulled away from you because I was jealous of your relationship with Coralee, but that wasn't it at all. I was thrilled for you. I think that I just didn't feel quite so necessary anymore. And nurturing isn't something that comes naturally to me. I took care of my mother when she was ill, and I always felt awkward and out of place and like I was doing something wrong. That ability to understand how someone is feeling, and to know what they need—I tried, I really did. And I tried with you too, but I got it wrong so often. So when you had a mother who could give you that, I reverted to doing the parts of parenting that I felt more capable of: I supported you, I helped you with school, I set rules. I though it was a partnership that worked. You seemed happy, in general.
I can't plead complete ignorance, though. I knew that you wanted more of my time (at least, until you didn't want any of it, which I thought was a normal teenage phase but perhaps not). I don't have a good excuse. I got caught up in my work. It was fascinating and I was committed to it, and in academia, devoting all your time to your work was how you showed you were committed to it. It still is. I'm sorry that I let my career get in the way of giving you what you needed. As I said, I don't have an excuse. It was wrong, and it wasn't fair to you.
I do want to clear one thing up. What I said to Alex about losing everything good in my life—I wasn't just talking about Coralee. I was talking about our family. I was afraid that without her, there would be no center. I didn't see how I could hold the two of us together. And part of it, yes, is that I felt I didn't really know you well enough anymore. I think to some extent that's a fairly common phenomenon among teenagers and parents, but certainly I contributed to it as well. It was never that you didn't matter to me, Charlie. That could never be true. I sit here trying to imagine it, and it's incomprehensible. You're my daughter. You will always matter. I'm sorry that I didn't try harder to keep you with me after Coralee left. I told myself that I was doing what you wanted, that you were happier with your grandparents. I thought maybe it was just as well that I was alone, because I'd driven away the most important people in my life. But if I let you think that I didn't want you to stay, I can only apologize, because nothing could be further from the truth. No matter what Lawrence told me, I should have tried harder to show you that.
I hope you have a safe trip. Call or email me if you'd like, but if it doesn't work out, I'll understand.
Yours,
Richard
And in this way, they took the first tentative steps toward having a relationship again. Nothing could change the past 20 years, but they didn't have to be bound by them for the next 20, and remembering that allowed them to move forward.
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The Daughter of a Righteous Man- Chapter 15
*SEQUEL TO THE LOOK IN HER EYES*
After her husband is drug to Hell, Ava Winchester and her brother in law Sam try their best to do right by Dean and raise her daughter, only to find that good intentions aren’t always enough. Loving someone isnt always enough.
Chapter Fifteen, The Witnesses
Sam
The news about angels had me flying high. We were never taught to be religious, but I couldn't deny the solace I found when I prayed. I always liked to think about a higher being. If there's a Hell I had to believe there was a Heaven, too. This news was earth shattering.
I took a swig from my beer, sitting across the high top from my brother. I missed him, and having a beer with him felt nice. Natural. Maybe things would fall back into the swing of things after all.
"Sammy I don't want to talk about angels or demons or anything other than how you've been. You've seemed a little in your head since I've been back."
"Sorry about that," I sighed. "It's just been kind of surreal."
"What have you been doing? Other than working. Do you have a girlfriend?"
He looked genuinely interested, and more than anything I wanted to talk to my big brother about Ava. I knew I couldn't. Not explicitly at least. "Not exactly."
"Not exactly? So there is someone! I knew it!"
I groaned and rolled my eyes.
"Tell me about her."
"There's not much to tell... it's over."
"Why?" Dean asked, taking a drink from his beer bottle.
"I don't think she feels the same way about me as I do her."
"And how is that?" Dean leaned forward eyeing me. "It's not just sex, is it? I can see it in your face. You're in love with her."
I shook my head. "No, but I was getting there." There was a knot in my stomach. "She was just... she had a way about her. The way she made me laugh, and called me on my shit. I can’t help it. When I'm with her I'm happy."
"You deserve to be happy, Sam," Dean said with a nod. "It's all I've ever wanted for you."
"It's just too complicated."
"You should fight for her, Sam. If she's what you want."
I eyed him. "Ava really changed you. Before her you would've been trying to get me laid to forget all about my problems."
"I'm a romantic now. So sue me." He took another swig.
"I'm glad. It's nice to see you have hope, to believe in something."
I should know all about that. She changed me, too.
"So what's her name? This mystery girl."
"Doesn't matter. It's never going to happen."
He groaned in annoyance. "Okay Fine. You can tell me when you're ready, but Sammy if she doesn't know how great you are then maybe she doesn't deserve you."
"She keeps saying that, too."
"But I don't deserve Ava, and she still takes me for what I am. That's love, man. Knowing you're flawed and they want you anyway. So maybe it's worth a shot." He shrugged. "Just sayin. I'll get us another round."
Ava
It had been five days since Dean had been back. We were getting into the swing of things, and other than the fact that I've avoided being alone with Sam, everything was surprisingly normal.
I'd called in the rest of the week to work, but it was Monday, and I was back.
Dean eagerly agreed to watch Nel. "I have nothing else going on. While we try to figure out what our life is, I will stay home with her."
"Back from the dead," Lacey said, waltzing up to my desk.
I wore tight black jeans and my black ankle boots, with a cream tank top under my leather jacket. "That's me," I said weakly.
"Was Sam totally freaked out about the shooting?"
The shooting. Shit I forgot. It felt like a lifetime ago. "No, actually, I didn't tell him."
Lacey sat on the edge of my desk. "And he didn't question your big bruise? I thought you two were in the can't-keep-your-Hands-to-yourself phase of the relationship?"
I rubbed my head and looked at her. "I actually have had a lot happen this weekend."
Lacey raised her eyebrows. "I think we need coffee."
"If not something stronger," I agreed.
We offered to pick up coffee for the station and made our way to the coffee shop. Thankfully Sioux Falls didn't have a lot of high crime, so it was a pretty slow Monday.
I ordered the biggest iced coffee they had and suckled the straw eagerly the moment I sat in the cushioned chair near the window.
"Okay, Winchester. Spill," Lacey said, sitting across from me.
She looked like she had sex hair, but I could tell that it was purposeful by the product smell coming from her. Lacey was trendy, and had an allure about her that I wished I had.
"You remember me telling you about Dean?"
"Tragically handsome husband killed in the war. Yeah, what about him?"
"Turns out he wasn't killed. He showed up at the house after work on Thursday."
Lacey started to cough, choking on her coffee. "What?!"
"That was kind of my reaction."
"How are you not flipping out?" She said once she stopped gasping for air.
"I called into work Friday. I was flipping out."
"Where was he? Was he a prisoner of war? How did he get back?" She was running a mile a minute, her eyes crazed as she tried to grasp the insanity that is my life.
"I haven't really asked.. it's all just been so fast. He finally got to meet Nel... And I don't know, we are taking one thing at a time."
"This is good, though! He is the one, right?" She gasped, and covered her mouth. "Oh my god, Sam."
"Bingo," I whispered into my straw. I caught myself chewing on it with a groan.
She leaned forward. "What're you going to do?"
I'd never had a girlfriend before. No one invested in me, and no one that I cared to share with. Lacey was my partner. She was kind and full of sass. I liked her. I wanted, then, to spill everything to her. I wanted to cry and drink wine and let myself crack open and bleed. "I don't know."
"How do you feel?"
"Confused," I sighed. "I love Dean. He is my soul mate. My husband. The father of my child."
"And then there's tall dark and handsome."
"Sam just... he snuck up on me. Ya know?"
"I do," Lacey said knowingly. "I've seen the way he looks at you. He loves you, kid."
"I know he does," I sighed. "And that makes everything so much more complicated."
"Maybe we should make a pro con list."
I laughed out loud, not trying to come off wrong. "Seriously?"
"Yeah. Which sexy brother will Ava end up with. Pro to both is that they're devilishly handsome."
I smiled widely. "Con for both, they're brothers."
"I have an idea," Lacey said, sitting up straighter.
"What?"
"Polygamy, sister. Just have them both."
Now I was the one choking on coffee. "Oh my god no!"
"Prude,” she scoffed. "Fine, back to the drawing board."
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We were out on patrols. Lacey was driving, still trying to get me to make a list of pros and cons. So far it evened out like this:
Sam
Pro- he is very tall, good with babies, abs, he makes me laugh, he can watch endless episodes of How I Met Your Mother without so much as a pee break (maybe he is a superhuman?)
Con- the long hair, he's a younger man, he likes podcasts, he is Dean's brother so if I pick him it'll be awkward.
Dean
Pro- also is tall (but not as tall), Nel's Dad, also has abs, first person I loved, gives me butterflies.
Con- he may have scars from war (mental), I finally moved on from him, he likes cowboys and while it's charming no one should own a bolo tie, let alone multiple.
These were her lists, not mine. My feet were on the dash in the squad car as I looked at the page. "They're pretty even, but I still don't think any of these are valid reasons to be with either of them."
"That's because we haven't even began to talk about the sex," Lacey said, glancing at me from under her sunglasses.
"Yeah, that's not happening."
"Come on, Ava, I'm dying to hear about it! Let me live vicariously through you."
"Not a chance." I laughed.
My phone rang, and I grabbed it out of my pocket. "Detective Winchester."
"I like the way that sounds," Dean said through the phone.
I grinned widely. "How'd you get my work number?"
"From Sammy. I thought it'd be easier to get ahold of you this way."
"Is everything okay?"
"Well, actually, not really. I just talked to Dad and apparently a lot of hunters are showin up dead. Like real bad, ripped apart, dead."
"Which one?" Lacey mouthed to me.
"Do they have any other connections?"
"No, but Ava, I'm worried. What's stopping whatever this is from coming after us? When can you get home?"
"Shit!" Lacey said, slamming on her breaks. My phone flew out of my hand, bouncing onto the dashboard, my knees slamming into my chest.
“Ow,” I groaned. "The fuck, Lace?"
I moved my legs down, to see why she stopped, and my blood ran cold. In the middle of the road stood Pastor Miles, the young man from my first case with Sam and Dean. His clothes were ripped, with large gashes on his skin. He had dark circles under his eyes. I recognized the gashes, I'd saw them on Dean.
Dean had told me, months later, that we didn't save him. I'd made peace with that, trying my best to save everyone we came into contact with after that. I knew he was dead, but yet there he was, standing in front of the squad car.
"Ava!" I could hear Dean screaming on the line, as the Pastor came closer he was frowning, deep wrinkles on his forehead as his eyebrows came together. He looked so much older than early twenties. His eyes were almost glowing red from the anger that was pulsing off of him.
"Dean! If you can hear me, I think we have a problem!" I looked to Lacey. "If you trust me then drive. Now!"
Lacey put the car in gear without questioning it and sped away.
"Go to my house!" I instructed.
"You owe me an explanation, Winchester." She hissed as she turned down the road toward my place.
What the hell is going on?
We pulled up to the house, and I jumped out of the car. My legs and chest were aching from the immediate stop. I groaned and jogged up to the house, pushing through the front door. "Hey," I said, panting.
"You're okay, thank god," Dean said, pulling me into his arms. I'm adding, gives good hugs to the pro column. "I heard all the screaming, and then the line went dead."
"I saw Pastor Miles," I said looking up at him.
"Shit."
The front door swung open again and Sam stood, his eyes wide in alarm. "Guys, we have a problem."
"No kidding," I said, still breathing heavily.
"I just saw Jess, but she wasn't Jess."
We looked between us. What the fuck? "Have a seat, I'll get us some coffee, and we will figure this out."
"Make mine Irish," Dean said with a grunt.
"By the way, uh, Dean this is Lacey," I said, almost forgetting she was there. "She is my partner at the precinct."
"I'm the husband,” he said, saluting her.
Laceys hand went to her chest in a very Victorian way. "Nice to meet you."
"Hey Lace can you meet me in the kitchen?"
"Sure." She shrugged, walking into the kitchen.
"You brought her here?" Sam hissed.
"She was in the car when we almost hit Pastor Miles!"
"What the fuck?" Sam asked, his voice quiet.
"Yeah, so I didn't really have time to think, and I came straight here. Should I ask her to go? He definitely saw her, and he didn't exactly look happy, Sam."
Dean looked to Sam and shrugged. "Ave, do you trust her?"
I glanced at the door to the kitchen. "I haven't known her long, but yeah, I do."
"Then catch her up."
"Okay."
I went into the kitchen, avoiding Sams stares, and started the coffee maker.
"So first of all, you downplayed how hot he is. He looks like a model. Like the kind that works on cars in the magazine pictures. All sweaty and greasy, but somehow still perfect."
I laughed and shook my head. She really hit the nail on the head. "Yeah, he is, isn't he?"
"Um, yeah!"
I poured her a cup of coffee.
"Seriously, though, what was all of that?" She asked as she blew the steam off her cup.
"You may want to sit down."
She raised her eyebrows, but didn't move. "Go on."
"Okay, this is going to sound crazy," I said with a sigh. "But Sam, Dean, and I... we hunt things. Monsters, ghosts, demons. They're real. That man in the road... he is a man I tried to save over a year ago, but he died."
Lacey looked down at her cup of coffee. "Are you fucking with me?"
"No." I stared at her waiting for her to laugh, or to run.
"Okay."
"Okay?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "That's it?"
Lacey shrugged. "Yup. I believe you. Maybe you're crazy, but I figure if you aren't... then you can keep me from getting killed. One step at a time." She grinned. "Plus, you still need my help figuring out which Winchester you're going to be with."
I reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. "Thank you. Thank you for believing me."
Lacey shrugged and picked up her cup. "It's no thing. Come on, the handsome twins are waiting for us."
I poured two more cups of coffee, and added a shot of Jameson to Dean's before going back into the living room.
"So what do we think we are dealing with here?" I asked them, noticing Bobby had joined the group.
He was holding open a book, and looking intently at us. "It's the rise of the witnesses."
"Which means?"
Dean looked at me solemnly. "It means that we are epically screwed."
—————
Chapter Sixteen, Give Me These Moments Back
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Anxiety and Finances
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The first time I realized that my general anxiety disorder may be impacting my spending habits was when I was in the middle of PetSmart, nearly in tears, because I was afraid I wasn’t spending enough money on my cat for his birthday.
I have a very cute cat. He is very sweet, very social, and very indifferent on the majority of toys he gets. He has two favorites, and that’s about it. I ended up blowing my fleeting budget on a cat tree (which he already had). He never touched it, and I ended up giving it away.
The next year, I briefly dated a coach from the gym. When we matched on Bumble, I convinced myself I needed to go to Old Navy to get a new workout top that was cute, and flirty, which would seal the date.
If did not. After two dates, he ghosted me and is now in love with a woman who is far more fit than me, but with the same first name. That does wonders for my self-esteem.
Writing these instances out feels juvenile. It feels silly to panic over a date, or a cat’s birthday, or the idea that my apartment wasn’t “fall enough”, leading to a binge shopping spree. It didn’t feel silly at the moment. It felt overwhelming. I still remember the panicked feeling in my chest, the single obsession I had, the rapid heart, the trick my mind did, which was assuring me that the second I made these purchases, Larry (the term I give my anxiety), would simply vanish.
I’ve been reading “Bad with Money”, a book by Gabby Dunn about finances. This was the first financial book, where mental health was addressed, and I didn’t feel like absolute shit at the end of reading it. Typically, every book I read or financial advice I get, revolves around “Be better.”
Here’s the truth: For those of us who are not neurotypical, “being better” is not as easy as you think.
I was in a denial for a long time that my mental health was impacting my financial behavior. I would do something impulsive and then feel devastated that I was a terrible, unworthy human being, spend some time in bed, crying and watching YouTube videos, telling myself “I AM GOING TO CHANGE”, then falling back into a terrible cycle.
For those of you who are reading this and thinking “You entitled millennial, saving money isn’t that hard, you’re just lazy”, let me tell you what an anxiety disorder feels like.
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Something slightly unexpected happens, or a major work type thing is approaching (e.g., academic conferences, deadlines, a date). I start to think about it. I start to have graphic dreams about something going wrong during said event, usually involving blood, death, or something worse. My stomach starts to turn into knots. My heart rate starts to rise. It feels like I’m about to die or lose control. My head sometimes gets light. I get dizzy. I start to focus singularly on one thing that will “Fix this.” Typically it means purchasing something that may help, or at least something that will make me think I’m ready. I buy that thing, and I get a tempory relief.
It is not fun. It is not “all in my head. There are somatic symptoms. And it hurts my finances in ways I only realized recently. If you struggle with this, or mental health and managing finances here are a couple of things I want to say:
You are not a bad person for your finances. Likewise, if you have a ton of money, you are not automatically a good person. Money does not indicate self-worth.
Practice grounding. Whenever I get an anxiety attack, I have a list of things I try to focus on. I review all of the names of the Harry Potter books, the Horcruxes, where they were hidden, who killed them, etc. etc. Sometimes I even text my friends and say “I’m having an anxiety attack. Text me Harry Potter trivia.” It works. Pick something you know a lot about, or focus on reciting all the states you can.
See a therapist. I love therapy. I think it’s great. I get to tell someone all about myself and they are forced to give me insightful information. It’s everything I have ever wanted.
Keep a list of self-care activities that are free with you. I have one in my Bullet Journal, broken down by category. If I spend ten minutes playing guitar, even if it takes every fiber of my being, I tend to feel better, and the anxiety lessens.
Understand the system is set up to fail you. You are not a failure, especially in graduate school, for not having a lot of money. I am insanely privileged to have parents to help me out when I get in a tough spot, and I understand not everyone has that ability. It’s hard for the average person to escape the consumerism culture. It’s even harder when you have mental health issues, and everyone is selling you on devices, and hair care in the name of “self-care.” If you end up spending some money or falling victim to that, it’s ok. You’re not a failure-the system is failing you. Look forward, not backward.
Forgive yourself once in a while. When I started being kinder to myself, I notice I stopped having as many spending sprees, and I’m better at controlling myself.
Talk to everyone. Ask your professors how they made it through grad school. I recently started asking my grad school friends how they manage their money, and it’s helpful. I know I’m not alone, and I occasionally get tips. When my professors mention budgets, I ask them how they keep track of them, and they’re helpful.
Avoid the people who make you feel bad. Graduate students aren’t always the most chill, down to earth people. Some people come into programs with a lot of money, and hearing them talk about blowing money on things I couldn’t dream of, or their ability to jet off when they want, makes me feel like I’m a failure. Other people will convince you that since you are not doing exactly what they are, you’re a failure. The older I get, the better I am at avoiding those people and cutting them out of my life.
Find the resources that work for you. Reading Bad with Money has helped me with the shame of my finances. The podcast was where I started. Also, You Need A Budget, has been the most helpful app in terms of understanding budgeting. It’s free for students for a year I believe, and they have some great information that doesn’t focus on shaming you. Dave Ramsey never did it to me-I just felt ashamed that I couldn’t add a pizza delivery job to my already full schedule. Plus I’m a left-leaning, brown, bisexual woman, and I couldn’t help believing that I was his target audience (this may not be true, but it’s a feeling I got).
Focus on positive feelings. I used to try and shame myself out of spending money, which didn’t end up working. I would focus on the guilt, which would just flip me into “I am so anxious that I need to spend 12 hours in bed to avoid the world.” I’ve been trying to think “If I save money, I can buy my parents something ice” or “This ten dollars can be spent on a vacation/tattoo rather than coffee.” Instead of shaming your current or past self, think of investing in your future self.
For the love of God, sleep. Therapy helps. Medication helps. Meditation helps. But sleeping is the best thing for my anxiety disorder. When I get a good nights rest, I feel so much more in control. I feel ready. I go to sleep around 8-8:45 pm, and I have learned to love it. Please do not fall into the stupid grad school myth that if you’re not working until 2 am, you’re failing. It’s bull. My work is so much better when I feel positive and rested.
I’m not going to pretend I am perfect with my finances yet. Hell, I’m not even close. But sharing my thoughts and perspectives with others may help someone down the line. And the more I share, the better I feel. I shouldn’t be ashamed about my mental health or my finances. Because the more I keep those in the dark, the worse they get.
#academia#academic#finance#money#grad school#gradblr#gradblogging#PhD#PhD student#PhD Problems#phd life#anxiety#mental health#positive mental health#financial planning
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Weekly Blog Post #1 -Goodbye 2018 and Welcome 2019
1/11/2019
Dear Future me,
I’m a bit late starting this (which I have no excuse for), but the gist is that I’ve decided that from now on I’m going to make a blog post every week as a way to document and look back on all the good and possibly not good things happening in my life. There's no formula here, it’s mainly be just a free for all to talk about my week and the things I enjoy.
That being said, This first entry will be a bit different and quite a bit longer than normal, as I reflect back on the recently ended 2018. This year stretched on unusually long as Trumps Politics became a raging dumpster fire threatening a country wide collapse on a weekly basis, and authoritarian began spreading further throughout the rest of the World. For me personally, I
-wrote a 26 page thesis that I will never look at again
-graduated from UC with a Neuroscience degree
-served a term as a research assistant taking care of mice
-worked at then quit my job at Staples
-Got a job at the IRS
-Got suspended from my job at the IRS due to a government shutdown that is still in effect
-started dating for the first time (though no girlfriend as of yet)
-grew even closer to my friends as we typically hung out at least twice a week
-entered a DnD campaign
-Got suspended from playing said DnD campaign
-Discovered I like Sushi
-Went to my first concert since middle school (Panic! at the Disco and Hayley Kiyoko)
-Stayed at a cabin with my friends where we played strip jenga and got lost hiking in the woods for 8 miles in a thunderstorm
-Got a mysterious disease that lasted 2 weeks from said hike
-Grew my hair out then cut 10 inches off and donated it
-My best friend got engaged, My sister went to Sweden, and my brother moved to Toledo
-Watching my puppy Cocoa grow up (though we technically got her late 2017)
And probably a lot more that I can’t remember at the moment. As per usual I spent a lot of 2018 consuming media like the nerd that I am, so I’m going to spend the rest of this far too long entry ranking my favorite things I saw/read in 2018. These will be ranked by pure enjoyment, not overall quality, and aren't meant to be an objective best of list. I just want to talk about things I like. So:
Top 5 Movies
Honorable mention- Hereditary, a fantastic and deeply unsettling film that was one of the most emotionally charged viewing experiences I’ve ever had. It would be high on the list if I had actually watched in 2018, but I only just now watched it and had made the list before hand. Still, one of the best horror movies I’ve ever seen.
5-Venom-Movie was a fucking mess but it was pretty fun. I love the concept of the Symbiotes.
4-A Quiet Place-A movie with almost no sound/verbal dialogue and a great sense of suspense
3-Black Panther-Amazing sense of Style, Amazing Villain, A great Cultural achievement
2-Deadpool 2- Fantastic sense of humor, inventive fights, first big screen lgbt+ superheroes
1-Into the Spiderverse-Best animation I've seen in maybe a decade, Everything about this movie is surprisingly amazing, from the soundtrack to the character designs to the emotional resonance. This Movie can’t come out on DVD fast enough.
Top 5 Cartoons
Honorable Mention -Voltron-Disappointing Finale but 7th season had an amazing Keith/Shiro fight scene and Lotor, arguably one of the best characters in the series.
5-Rick and Morty-Not my favorite season but still smart, rewatchable, and unique episodes.
4-She Ra- Great characters and designs with the Catra/Adora conflict elevating the Series.
3-Bobs Burgers- Consistently good, funny, and relatable, My whole family enjoys it.
2-Steven Universe- Finally getting answers to alien plot, excellent art, plenty of lgbt goodness
1-Hilda-An incredibly inventive new series with a truly unique and empathetic fantasy world, adorable art, a wonderful mother-daughter relationship and some of my new favorite creature designs. The atmosphere this series creates is one I want to live in forever.
Top 5 TV Shows
Honorable Mention- Killing Eve, Like Hereditary I did not watch this until 2019, but I adored Villanelle’s strange psychopathy and the very lesbian tension between her and Eve.
Honorable Mention-The Haunting of the Hill House-Great character building episodes, neat effects, and a great building tension, an underwhelming finale brings it down a bit.
5-Stranger Things-Inferior to the 1st season but still great characters and interesting plot
4-Game of Thrones-Lots of plot contrivances but every episode was still massively entertaining.
3-Good Place-Genuinely great twist with creative ideas and a solid critique of moral philosophy
2-Dirk Gently-Batshit insane, quirky, hilarious, with absolutely amazing characters and writing.
1-Brooklyn 99-One of the best shows on TV, every episode is hilarious and heartfelt, I love every cast member. Ontop of having an amazing sense of humor, B99 is one of the most progressive shows on television, and continually address relevant issues in a tactful and good natured way.
Top 5 Anime
Honorable Mention-Zombieland Saga- a fun show with a creative spin on the idol genre, the heartfelt relations between the characters were a highlight, as was the presence of a trans idol.
5-Aggretsuko-Incredibly relatable with adorable and lovable characters.
4-Mo Dao Zu Shi-Unique setting with a great protagonist and a slow build gay romance
3-Devilman Crybaby-An unforgettable and highly enthralling experience, plus I’m gay for Miko
2-Megalo Box-Probably Deserves to be #1 for its fantastic sense of style, tension, amazingly choreographed fights, lovable protagonist and ‘Antagonist’, and incredible pacing.
1-Reincarnated Slime-This anime is just the ultimate escapist fantasy. Every week I look forward to watching the stupidly op and likable protagonist make friends with everyone he meets, build a peaceful city from scratch, overpower everyone with neat abilities, try his best to avoid conflicts, and comment on how hot everyone around him is. It's the equivalent of playing an RPG and doing every side quest you can to make everyone happy, I love it. It's just very Chill and pretty.
Top 5 Comics
Honorable Mention-Space Battle Lunchtime-Cute lgbt+ characters and fun concept, but short for now
5-Moonstruck-My ideal fantasy world with fun and vibrant fantasy designs and a highly diverse cast of lgbt+ characters, but only just beginning with a lot of room for further character development.
4-Trust-fantastic art and an intriguing setting with a mysterious but interesting plot
3-MotorCity-Stylish protagonist with an adorable girlfriend and an interesting supernatural twist.
2-Saga-Creative and exciting space opera that introduces lots of likable characters and then kills them.
1-The Adventure Zone-My favorite Fantasy Story of all time getting translated into a visual medium. While the first Volume was not quite as good as the Podcast (Though I don’t believe that’s possible anyway), it still had much of the great humor and characters with some lovely art and a condensed story.
Top 5 Web Series
Honorable Mention- Game Grumps-Not sure if I want to count Lets Plays but this channel brings me so much joy. House Party, Doodle Doods, and the 10 Minute Power Hours were highlights.
5-Monster Pop-Great colorful character designs and complex character conflicts with ample lgbt+ content
4-Buzzfeed Unsolved-very interesting and weird events with hilarious commentary, the hosts have a great chemistry and play well off each other.
3-Their Story-My favorite lesbians, stylish, cute, and fun, wish it updated more often.
2-19 Days-Amazing slow build romances with incredibly fun characters and interactions, Grade A Homoerotic tension.
1-Ava's Demon-Some of my favorite art and character designs in any Media, The plot is amazing and fairly unpredictable, I feel incredibly excited every time I see it has updated.
Well that’s all for now. Next time will be my favorite ships of 2018, as their were some interesting couples this year.
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I AIN’T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE
Pairing: Yoongi x Hoseok
Genre: smut (oral), some graphic language,
Word count: 3k
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The pen was monotonically hitting the surface of the desk, the sound it made getting lost in the sea of voices that filled the classroom of the last period. Yoongi couldn't wait to get out of school, the day seeming a thousand hours long. It was now spring, which meant school was almost unbearable, everyone waiting for the summer holidays already. Yoongi too couldn't concentrate on any school work, the sun brimming brightly in the sky, early birds chirping, fresh summery wind distracting him from anything else.
Of course, it wasn't the only thing that has been distracting him recently.
Yoongi wasn't the most popular kid at school, you could say he fit in with the masses, trying not to stick out too much. For him, the school wasn't the place for friendships, yet he made one exception and that was Jung Hoseok. When Yoongi first came to school, Hoseok was the first person he talked to and the first real friend he made. Hoseok always treated him nicely, their friendship improving over the years as they both grew closer to each other, both letting their walls down. The thing with Hoseok was, that even though he was quite a popular guy in their school, he never pretended to be anything more than an average student, treating everyone as his equals. To this day Yoongi still gets surprised by the fact that the boy is his friend. All of these things were great and Yoongi certainly was very grateful for a person like him in his life, but that wasn't the reason why he was so distracted. He knew that he will eventually start liking someone, or feel incredibly drawn to a person, but why did it have to Hoseok? That's right. For the past few weeks, Yoongi found himself feeling weird when he is around the boy. He would constantly get nervous and wary, every compliment coming from Hoseok making him blush. He kept catching himself staring at his lips whenever he was talking, their weekly sleepovers now tragically painful for Yoongi, unholy thoughts bracing his brain while all they were doing was sleeping in the same bed, as friends do. Unfortunately, Yoongi couldn't find the way to solve this problem, so he took the easy way deciding to avoid the boy as much as possible. Sadly his decision brought him even more misfortune as Hoseok soon caught on and requested they spend the whole weekend binge-watching movies at his house. It was currently Friday and Yoongi tried to mentally prepare for a constant aching of his heart. A loud bell could be heard in the classroom, making everyone rush out of the class to which Yoongi just sat in his place waiting for everyone to get out of the class so he could exit calmly.
Dragging his feet forward Yoongi made his way towards the bus stop, the only wish that he had was to plop down on his bed and let it swallow him whole. He was almost at the bus stop when he felt someone ruffling his hair. As he was about to kill the person with his death glare his eyes caught a glimpse of who was Hoseok, giving him his usual carefree smile, making Yoongis expression change immediately, his lips forming into a content smile.
"Heading home?" Hoseok asked, his breathing still fast from catching up to the boy.
"Yeah, maybe I should really stay in to-" Hoseok didn't let Yoongi finish, his finger now resting on Yoongis lips. "You're not running away from me sweets, not today" Hoseok replied, earning an angry scoff from Yoongi to which he replied with a cheeky grin. Teasing Yoongi was definitely one of his favorite activities.
For Hoseok it wasn't necessary for the boy to sleep over at his throughout the weekend, he just wanted to know what was wrong and knowing Yoongi, he realized he will need more than a day to finally crack. Hoseok cherished their friendship greatly, that's why such behavior truly scared him. He didn't know what or who provoked such behavior from his side, but he was set to find it out.
The two of them got into the bus, Yoongi sitting down next to the window making Hoseok sit down next to him, which to Yoongis surprise was really close, making their thighs rub against each other. See a normal person, wouldn't think much of it, such type of skinship being normal between friends, yet it was the only thing in Yoongis mind for the whole ride. Yoongi was aching to touch him, to feel his soft skin against his fingertips, to brush his hand through his hair and so much more. Hell, he didn't dare to think of getting touch by him, he knew he would go completely insane if he did.
-
A squeaky nagging sound of Yoongis ringtone woke him up from his slumber, making him wince. Right after the boy went home he decided to take a nap, in hopes that it would maybe lead to him oversleeping his plans with Hoseok, however, the red-haired boy was as stubborn as always.
"Hello?" Yoongi replied in his husky voice, his eyes still closed, trying to savor the last moments of sleep.
"If you're not by my house in ten minutes I'm seriously going on a killing spree to your house" Hoseok replied in an exaggerated tone.
"Geez Hoseok, have some decency, I was sleeping" Yoongi replied, not phased by the boy's outburst.
"Good. Now you'll be able to stay up for the rest of the two nights we're gonna spend! Can't wait for you to come, I already ate two bowls of popcorn by myself and it's definitely leading to obesity, hurry!" Hoseok exclaimed and hung up, leaving the boy sprawled out in his sheets.
He is in for a long night.
-
It was a bit over four hours that Yoongi has showed up at Hoseoks house with a huge pizza and a few rental movies. The two of them have so far watched two movies, both of them becoming a bit lazy from laying on the sofa for so long.
"Ahh, I really didn't think that getting bored of watching movies was an option" Hoseok sighed, adjusting the pillow under his head. Yoongi hummed in agreement, trying to come up with better alternatives.
"Well we could always watch something else, that isn't a movie, you know", Yoongi added, looking up at Hoseoks eyes for confirmation, to which Hoseok raised his eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with newly developed curiosity.
"Like what?"
"Well you know... we could watch something on Youtube or maybe a live stream? There are also some good podcasts with visuals and-"
"Let's watch porn," Hoseok said, in the middle of Yoongis sentence, making the smaller boy freeze in his spot, his cheeks darkening a few shades as he still tried to swallow the fact that Hoseok literally suggested them to watch other people having sex. Together.
"U-uhm... porn?" Yoongi asked, not trusting his voice.
"Yeah! When I think about it, it's so weird that we never watched porn together, everyone watches it with their friends when they're young. Come on Yoongi-ah do you really want me to believe you've never watched it?" Hoseok asked, his voice full of disbelief.
To be honest, Yoongi has never really watched porn before. Not because he was against it, it just never crossed his mind. That's why the situation was even scarier. Yoongi didn't know how he will react to it, let alone watching it with Hoseok.
"Oh my god, you seriously haven't?" Hoseok chuckled, disbelief coating his features. To find a person like that was more than rare. "That's even better, I can show you the good stuff first. What are you into? " He smiled, already connecting his phone to the TV and opening his browser, typing in the websites Yoongi never heard about.
"I don't... I'm not sure" Yoongi replied, his shyness getting the best of him.
"Okay then, I will just show you whatever that I personally watch. I do indeed have a few favorites", Hoseok replied already clicking on the video. The screen suddenly went dark, two incredibly attractive men showed up on the screen. It started out slow, two of the males kissing passionately, their hands wondering through each other bodies. Yoongi felt the way his breath became uneven, his jeans becoming just a bit uncomfortably tight. He glanced at Hoseok, who seemed as normal as ever as if he was watching regular TV. The same actions in the video continued for a few more minutes until one of the guys dropped to his knees, taking the other guys hardened member in his hands, spreading the precum all over the length. The action made Yoongi bite his lip, his eyes running between the two guys on the screen, not sure which one was more satisfying to watch. He wanted to touch himself so bad, so fucking bad, but he couldn't, he was still aware of Hoseok who was sitting right next to him.
"Have you ever done something like that?" Hoseok asked, his voice now lower and almost inaudible, yet loud enough for Yoongi to able to hear it.
"N-no, but I really want to" As soon as these words left his mouth Yoongi wanted to punch himself in the face for letting such words leave his mouth. He was thankful for the lighting of the room that was now dim, it was easier to hide his flushed cheeks. He couldn't even look at the boy. The room went silent again only to be filled with filthy grunts and moans coming from the TV. Yoongis eyes suddenly snapped to the side as he heard Hoseok letting out a sound he has never heard from him before. It was the purest and lightest moan he has ever heard, He noticed that the boy was palming himself through his sweatpants, his member already looking rock hard under his touch.
"W-what are you d-doing" Yoongi spoke out, not able to stop looking at the sight in front of him.
"I'm sorry Yoongi, it just feels too good to stop" Hoseok let out, his gaze looking at Yoongi through hazy eyes, his head slightly tilted back, the muscles of his body now tense. Yoongi stared at boys crotch area, his fingers grabbing the material of the cushion, itching to get closer to it. Hoseok's body always looked great, but he never saw it this way. His legs were lazily spread on the couch, the material of his sweatpants tightly wrapped around his thighs that looked so tense, so firm. His upper body was lifting up and down from the heavy breathing, his baggy white shirt revealing the side of his neck, small beams of sweat already appearing on his skin. He looked so ethereal, so needy of someone's touch. To Yoongi he was irresistible.
"Can I help you?" Yoongi asked, surprising himself with his own words. Hoseok looked at the smaller boy again, his eyes even though content with the boys request still holding a shocked expression.
"Are you sure? You don't have to do anything you don't want" Hoseok reassured, hoping that the boy didn't just say that because he was feeling uncomfortable.
"I-I said I wanted to try it," Yoongi said, slightly lifting his body up from the couch and just a few steps away dropping to the ground in front of Hoseoks lap.
"Then I'd love that sweets" Hoseok purred, lightly lifting up his body to slide off his sweats down his legs along with his underwear, his erection slapping to his stomach. Yoongi's eyes hungrily wondered over Hoseok's bare lower half. He knew that this wasn't going to help him get over his feelings rather making it harder for him (all puns intended) to resist him, he was walking into a burning fire and he was fine with it. He wasn't going to let this chance slip away. He looked at Hoseoks throbbing dick and licked his lips, his eyes traveling up only to meet a pair of eyes looking back at him intensively. That was the moment when he understood that he had no idea how to give a blowjob. He didn't want to make a complete fool out of himself and this was the only option.
"C-could you teach me how to..." Yoongi trailed off, his eyes never leaving Hoseok's. Hoseoks glance that was full of desire changed to a soft one, the adorable boy in front of him getting the best of him.
"Take it in your hand and stroke it" Hoseok replied with a command, his voice full of control. Yoongi obeyed, leading his hand forward, his small hand taking hold of Hoseok's member. His thumb went over the tip, drawing small circles over the tip, just like he saw in the video. His hand started going down along his shaft, and then going back up, earning a hiss from Hoseok. Yoongi continued the action, enjoying the deep breaths coming from the red-haired boy.
"G-grip it tighter" He breathed out, feeling an insane amount of pleasure just by this small gesture, Yoongi's fingers wrapping perfectly around his length. Yoongi complied, adding more pressure to his grip. He started quickening his pace, causing the boy to moan out loud, his moans so pure yet so sinful, setting every nerve in Yoongis body on fire. Hoseok's hand suddenly touched Yoongi's in order to stop him. Yoongi looked confused, afraid he might've done something wrong.
"Did I do-"
"No, you did nothing wrong love" He stopped Yoongi, his hand that was resting on his thigh now traveling to rub Yoongi's cheek, quickly pulling his face closer to his in for a short sweet kiss. "I just want to cum with your mouth around my dick", he said, his breath hitting Yoongis skin.
Yoongis view became hazy, the feeling he imagined for so long now happening in real life throwing him off guard. He got closer to Hoseoks heat, his breath now fanning on the sensitive skin of Hoseoks length. Yoongi stick out his tongue, licking a line along Hoseoks dick, making the other boy wince. As his tongue went up his dick, giving it cute kitten licks he suddenly felt a pair of hands tangling in his hair and with one powerful move Hoseok sunk his dick in Yoongis throat, making the other boy gag. It was harsh and out of nowhere, but he couldn't deny that he enjoyed it. He wanted to be good for Hoseok. He wanted to show him just how good he can be for him.
"This is what you get for being a little tease", Hoseok grunted, his hands finally pulling his mouth away from his dick. "You liked it didn't you? Look at me, god you look so hot like that" Hoseok moaned out, taking in the view in front of him. "Now take it slow, hallow your cheeks and don't forget - no teeth" Hoseok guided the boy. And Yoongi did as he was told, starting off slow, his mouth going up and down the length of Hoseok's throbbing dick, enjoying every second of it. Yet Hoseok enjoyed it even more. He looked down at the sight of his dick disappearing into Yoongis tight mouth, reaching the end of his throat, small moans vibrating against his dick as he did so.
"God your mouth is so tight around my dick, fuck", Yoongi was the hottest sight he has ever seen so far and swore he could burst any minute, but he didn't want to. He wanted this to last as long as possible, not sure if this will ever happen again.
Yoongis pace quickened once more, except that this time Hoseok didn't stop him. Yoongi was enjoying the feeling of Hoseok inside in his mouth, his hands pulling on his hair, he enjoyed the feeling of Hoseok's thighs that he was holding onto. He enjoyed this moment of complete bliss, where nothing mattered. The clock stopped ticking and there was just the two of them to enjoy this moment. Yoongi kept fastening his movements, taking all of him in his mouth over and over again, feeling Hoseoks dick twitch in his mouth. Hoseok has never felt so good touched by someone else, he was so close, his hand still harshly gripping Yoongis hair.
"I-I'm gonna c-cum" Hoseok moaned out, his eyes trying their hardest to stay open and not miss a single second of the view. A few more bops of Yoongis head and he was already cumming, sending a huge load of cum down Yoongis throat. Yoongi swallowed it all and continued to kitten lick the sensitive area, letting the red-haired boy ride out his high. After a few seconds, Hoseok lifted himself up from the couch, putting his sweats back on his legs with his underwear. Just as Yoongi was about to stand up he was lifted up by Hoseok and situated on his lap. Hoseoks lips searched for Yoongis ones as fast as he could, connecting them together for a lazy, sensual kiss, both of them a bit tired of what they just did. Hoseoks arms went around Yoongis waist, securing him even more comfortable in his lap, pressing his body closer to his, making the smaller boy feel safe in his arms. Yoongis hands caressed Hoseoks neck, playing with his hair throughout the kiss, making the boy hum in appreciation. The room that was now a bit messy, soda cans and snacks spread out all over the table and floor, multiple blankets and pillows laying around them, the dim light coming from the TV, a faint smell of their sweaty bodies felt like the most magical place both of them could be in. Neither of them knew what this meant and they didn't need to. They had the whole weekend to figure it out.
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#yoongi x hoseok#sope#yoonseok#sope smut#sope fluff#yoonseok fluff#yoonseok smut#min yoongi#suga#jhope#hoseok#bts#bangtan#jhope smut#jhope fluff#yoongi smut#yoongi fluff#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#park jimin#jimin smut#kim namjoon#bts RM#kim taehyung#bts v#kim seokjin#bts jin#kpop#kpop smut
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Next Round: General Manager of Blue Point Brewery Carrie Shafir on the Future of Craft Beers
On this episode of “Next Round,” host Adam Teeter chats with Carrie Shafir, the general manager of Blue Point Brewery. Shafir details exciting new developments at the brewery and discusses a new player in the craft beer industry: the hazy IPA. Shafir explains how Blue Point adapted and began producing new and innovative products such as Toasted Lager, Spectral Haze, Hoptical Illusion, and its own versions of hard tea seltzers and canned cocktails.
In addition, as it’s Sustainability Week at VinePair, we asked Shafir how the craft beer industry needs to evolve. Shafir explains that in practicing sustainability, the craft beer industry needs to be more approachable, hiring more women, people of color, and people from various backgrounds to ultimately help push the industry forward.
Tune in to learn more about Blue Point Brewery and the future of craft beer.
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Or Check out the Conversation Here
Adam Teeter: From Brooklyn, New York, I’m Adam Teeter, and this is a “VinePair Podcast” “Next Round” conversation. As everyone knows, we’re bringing these conversations between the regular scheduled podcast to give people a better picture of what’s happening in the alcohol beverage industry. Today, I’m really excited to talk with Carrie Shafir, the general manager of Blue Point Brewery. Carrie, what’s going on?
Carrie Shafir: Not much, happy Friday! Excited to be here.
A: Oh, yeah, we are recording on a Friday. I don’t know when this will run, but for everyone who listens, it’s all good. Obviously, Blue Point is a super-storied brand. It’s been around for over 30 years. For me, I wasn’t aware of Blue Point until I moved to New York, but then it became even bigger. Where do you see Blue Point sitting in the world of craft beer? Do you still consider it a New York brand? Is it more of a national brand now? What is Blue Point nowadays?
C: Oh, man. That’s the existential question that we ask ourselves everyday. Blue Point is 23-years -old, we’re not quite 30, but we are one of the original craft breweries on the East Coast. We are the original craft brewery on Long Island and one of the first in New York State. We’re super proud that we’re still here and pumping out great beer as well as focusing on innovation, 23 years after the first batch went out to the local Long Island distributor. However, in terms of how we view ourselves, we are still focused on our local community on Long Island itself and the greater metro New York area. We do have some pretty strong distribution up and down the East Coast. Florida is actually a really big state for us but if you think about it, we have a lot of New Yorkers and East Coasters that spend the winters down there. It’s not too much of a stretch to think that people want to drink their Toasted Lager up in the summers in New York and then down to the winters in Florida. I think where we sit is in this legacy craft brewery world but we have a lot of new kids on the block, as you can imagine. There are so many amazing breweries producing great beer in our market, which obviously increases our competition. In my mind, it forces us to step up and be on our game. We can’t really rest on our laurels and go with the status quo of the beers that have worked very well for us in the past. It’s really influenced how we approach innovation as we have over the last three to five years. We have a ton of hyper-local competition. We keep trying new stuff, and we can’t believe how much good beer is coming out of our area right now. It’s pretty inspiring.
A: Yeah, it’s pretty crazy how many insane craft beers are in New York now. Is Toasted Lager still the most popular Blue Point beer?
C: Oh, yes. Toasted Lager is still our No. 1. That is our main brand. It’s what we say keeps the lights on. We love toasted lager. It’s continued to be a workhorse for us. It’s really one of the most approachable beers in our portfolio. We like to say it is a gateway beer for people’s first craft beer experiences. It gives them something different than the traditional domestic lagers and even the imports. It pairs really well with food, all kinds of food, but it’s not overly malty, it’s not overly bitter. It’s just that perfect balance. Week after week and month after month, it’s still in our top three beers that we’re pouring at our brewpub out in Patchogue. After 23 years, it’s pretty impressive to not just see it perform on the shelf, but also see it just in our backyard.
A: Right, where the diehards go.
C: Exactly.
A: Is the brand completely national at this point?
C: No, we did expand toasted lager national at one point a few years ago. It’s really hard for a brewery from Long Island to resonate with a consumer in Southern California. Especially without a national media budget where you can spend millions and millions of dollars on building awareness. We pulled back and we are sold pretty much in every state up and down the East Coast right now.
A: OK, so I do have a question there. Some people out there may ask, “What do you mean they don’t have a national media budget, they’re owned by ABI.” Obviously, national media money is important, but are there any other strategic reasons? I think you touched on some of them, but it’s so often you get to talk to a national craft brewery brand. Are there more strategic reasons for not going national that are close to what you alluded to? It’s hard for some of these craft brands, even when they do get bought by larger entities to be fully national because craft beer is so inherently local and people are so loyal to their own brand.
C: You answered your question itself: Local is king, right? Again, it’s what do we message as a brewery from the East Coast out on the West Coast? Whether or not we have media dollars to support it, it’s how do you approach a consumer. A lot of what we do is centered around our home market. Our home community. Again, with our pub, we can touch so many people who are actually coming on-site and experiencing the brand firsthand. The further you get away from your nest, the harder it is to be sticky. I think it’s been a learning experience for us when we went national and then had to pull back, but I think the local piece of this is always going to be the most important thing. We want to make sure that our beer experience is fresh. We’re making our beer on the East Coast. Brewing it out on the West Coast would create a lot of supply chain complexities, too. Yes, we are owned by Anheuser-Busch and we do have a lot more resources than we did when we were an independent craft brewery. Even though we could go national doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do. I think that, if anything, solidified that we need to invest in our backyard and make sure that our consumer is happy because that’s where the majority of our business has been and will continue to be.
A: Interesting, I think there’s a lot of questions people have about what happens to these brands when they get purchased and how do they grow? The perspective you have is really interesting to me. Another thing that I was curious about is a new release you guys have called Spectral Haze. This is also along with the same question of being a larger brewery or having larger distribution. The haze craze is real in craft beer right now. There are so many people that want super-hazy beers. However, these very hyper-local breweries have tried to stress that it’s hard to do a hazy at large distribution because it’s super expensive. You want it as fresh as possible. Only cold storage from the point it leaves the fermenter to the point that it hits your lips. Were there any innovations at Blue Point created in order to be able to create a year-round haze beer?
C: That’s a great question. You’re right that the haze craze is real. You could go into any craft beer store, frankly any grocery store at this point, and you will see hazy beers. I say that with air quotes because a hazy is technically not a style of beer, right? There’s a hazy New England. You can have hazy wheat beers. There are all types of hazy beers that are out there but what’s really stuck are these hazy IPAs. Yes, it is incredibly difficult to brew a hazy beer at scale, but I think it’s something that our brewers really took a hard look at. What are we trying to deliver here? Sure, there are the Other Halfs of the world putting out these amazing, super-fresh, double dry hops, hazy IPAs in 16-ounce cans, but to your point, if you’re not drinking those as quickly as possible, it’s really hard. It’s hard to have a great tasting experience with one of those. We do have some beers where we make these very small batches. Super-hazy adjunct with all the sexy hops and ingredients that we release on small batches. We have our Illusion Series and a lot of pub-exclusive releases that serve the consumer. With Spectral Haze, we really wanted something that could sit on a grocery store shelf, a 6-pack. There haven’t been many players who were able to do that successfully. I still would love our beer to be slightly hazier, to be honest, but I think that we’ve found much more in the flavor profile, a more approachable style of IPA. I think that’s ultimately what hazies are doing. A few years ago, when everyone was making Hop Bombs, it was how many IBU‘s can you put into this thing? It’s very hard from your palate perspective to have a bunch of those. Having a 6-pack to yourself. People do it all the time but definitely not a balanced style. I think what’s really been interesting is seeing the New Englands and the hazies come in, where you’re much more looking for an approachable, softer, tropical, less bitter style. Whether it’s hazy or not boils down to how good is your brewery at trying to get that haze? I think that it’s more of the style that’s really appealing to us because we have our original flagship IPA Optical Illusion. It’s been around for almost 20 years at this point. That’s much more West Coast style. That’s much more for the traditional IPA drinker. Now, what we really love about Spectral Haze is that it’s a nice introduction to our brand and it’s much more of an approachable style. For us, in terms of reaching a newer consumer, that was more around what we wanted to do versus focusing on all the technical aspects in making a hazy at scale. As we were thinking about how to innovate and how to reach a new consumer because again, we are a 23-year-old brewery, and we’re having trouble reaching that younger, newer craft drinker. To us, that’s the most exciting thing about the beer. I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to try it, but it’s one of my favorites that we’re making right now. I think it’s definitely an impressive feat that we’ve been able to do it. By no means does it solve for the high-ABV, super hazy that needs to be consumed within the 30-day window. We are also very lucky in terms of our resources that our brewery has a pasteurizer. That definitely helps extend our shelf life with that fresh taste and fresh aroma.
A: So you guys just recently went through a rebrand. What was the reason for that? I mean, obviously, you know, Blue Point’s a brand that a lot of people in the New York area knew. Was it, again, to sort of reach this younger demographic you’re sort of talking about? What was the feeling like? Where do you get to as a brand? Like, you know what? It’s been 23 years. We need to do a rebrand. What was that decision like?
C: Yeah, it’s a great question. They’re a lot of internal discussions and debates. Blue Point actually went through a rebrand for the first time in 2017. From 1998 to 2017, same logo, same Toasted Lager packaging, same packaging in general on the shelf. In 2017, the brand was playing catch-up to where the craft beer scene was, what craft looked like on the shelf. As you know, craft has changed so much in the last three years, let alone five years, that one of the things that have always been important to us is being on the forefront, pushing the boundaries and limits, and being market leaders. Back in the day, Blue Point was one of the first brands to have a unique tap handle because our founders knew that that’s what was going to stand out at the bar. We had these amazing hand-painted ceramic tap handles that are still to this day what we use for some of our varieties. Our Summer Ale handle, our Winter Ale handle, we have these unique custom tap handles. That was always the core of who the brand was. We wanted to get back to that position of leadership. Our rebrand this time was about reaching a new consumer, but it was also getting back to what Blue Point was. We might have spent the last few years catching up to where the craft beer industry now is, but now we want to become market leaders again. That was the bigger discussion at first. The other thing was, art has always been a huge part of the brand. Music, art, etc. We always partnered with different artists to make all of our packaging designs. Over the years, when we didn’t really have a brand hierarchy or packaging hierarchy, the art actually got in the way of the brand. On the shelf, each of our packages looked like they came from a different brewery. That was another thing that we really wanted to make sure we touched on was that we could look at the shelf and say, “Oh, that’s all the Blue Point beer.” Your eyes are drawn to it. It has much more of a billboard effect. When people are in the store, you see that craft beer shelf right now at Whole Foods. It’s overwhelming. I think that was another thing, we wanted to be much more findable and consistent. The artists that we worked with on all these brands are from around the world. It was so inspiring and amazing to bring that art into a more organized canvas, so to speak. We definitely wanted to make sure that was also a key piece in getting back to the roots of the brand, which is supporting artists and the beauty of how packaging can be art.
A: Very cool. This is another question because you guys are on this trend, and I believe you might have some insight into what I’ve been curious about. It seems that a fair number of craft breweries are moving into the spirit space, and Blue Point is one of those craft breweries. I’m curious as to why. Why are we seeing that now from lots of different craft breweries? Obviously, beer is the base for spirits in a lot of ways. You create a brew and then distill it. It’s not as if you don’t have people who already know how to do that at the brewery. But is there a larger reason why you think this is happening?
C: Yeah, I think the same question can be asked about seltzer and why a lot of breweries are making non-beer products. Take yourself out of my shoes, you go to a restaurant, and the independent restaurants have figured out that even if you want to have a beer first, you have to offer spirits, you have to offer wine. You have to offer things that different consumers want, because there’s a number of people who are gluten-free or don’t like the bitterness of beer. Sure, you can make a sour or you can make low-IBU beer, but you’re not reaching every consumer. Even at our pub, our brewpub, we were selling rosé cider as a gluten-free option, and then we were selling some canned wine. The amount of rosé cider and canned wine we were selling by just having it on the menu and not pushing it was enough for us to realize that there are consumers out there that want different things. We really had to evolve to what the consumer’s asking for. Our canned cocktails were probably two years in the making. We waited for a little over a year for our distillery license, and then Covid hit. We were really excited about where we landed with our cocktails, because I don’t think we’re ever going to get into the full high-end ABV, distilled liquor bottles. I don’t see a world in which we’ll ever release a Blue Point 750-milliliter gin, tequila, etc. One of the beauties of our packaging line is that we are able to can and package very well. I think that was very appealing to us as we see the growth of the occasions that people are consuming canned products. We have a lot of fun with this project. We have three different vodka-based cocktails. We’re using all-natural juice and ingredients. We are also using all-natural cane sugar and no artificial sweeteners. It’s funny, we packaged the first test batch and everyone said, “Oh, that’s my favorite.” Then we packed the second test batch, and everyone said, “Oh, no, no, no, this one’s my favorite.” It was something that we were nervous about. I’ve really only been tasked with producing craft beer for so long. To extend into new products, we were a little nervous about how well it was going to be received, but we have been selling our test batches in our pub. The amount of overwhelmingly positive feedback we’ve gotten from our consumers has only made us incredibly excited to roll these out. We’re not chasing after the consumer, but sometimes, you’ve got to listen to what the consumer is telling you they want and not forge ahead with what you’re comfortable with. I think that’s something I’m super proud of where we landed with not only our cocktails, but with our Hard Tea Seltzer because now, we have a real portfolio of brands. If someone trusts Blue Point, they can now go beyond just the craft beer aisle for us to get into their refrigerator.
A: One last question for you, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask it. I think you’ve answered a little bit about how you do this with the Blue Point brand, but specifically for beer. There’s been a lot of press, and VinePair has written about it a bunch, our head beer writer Cat Wolinski is very passionate about this. Beer has done a really bad job at speaking and appealing to women. As a female in the craft beer world, what can and should craft beer be doing better to expand to the female demographic? We read all these stories on how craft beer doesn’t have any place to expand anymore, and is craft beer all grown out? When we look at it, it’s completely expanded to white men, but there’s this huge demographic of women, people of color, etc., that it still is not speaking to. What could craft beer be doing better?
C: That’s a great question. It’s not lost on me that there is a huge amount of runway to reach new consumers. Craft beer is not dead, we just need to evolve. I think first and foremost is hiring more women and people of color, different people from different backgrounds into craft breweries, because ultimately it starts with who’s actually working there and developing products. For a while, it was not a very diverse industry. I think it’s gotten better, but we still have a long way to go. I think the other thing that’s so exciting about what we’re doing and what we’re working on in the innovation front is looking at different styles that might not necessarily be what the data is telling us is hot right now. Hazy IPAs are a great example. It’s a pretty polarizing category and an intimidating category, very similar to wine. There’s a learning curve, and you don’t want to sound dumb. I think a lot of it comes back to education. How do we educate our consumers? How do we reach them in a very approachable way where we’re not being overly pretentious? To me, it’s one of the things that influenced our packaging, too, to be honest. How do we look more approachable on the shelf that it’s not a very overwhelming, intimidating shopping experience? It’s pretty straightforward. These are the descriptors of the beer that I’m getting, these are graphics that appeal to me that are not telling me that this is going to be a hop bomb. Your question is one that I could probably spend hours thinking about and dissecting, but I think it ultimately comes back to hiring more diverse teams and bringing different people in with different perspectives. That’s ultimately who’s going to be making the decisions on products. Also, educating and being more approachable, not being as stuck up as I think some of the craft beer industry has gotten. That approachability is how a lot of spirits companies have won and also wine companies. We need to continue to fight the good fight. I think we have a lot more runway to grow craft beer with new audiences. We need to stay the course and make sure that we’re innovating in the right way.
A: Very cool. Well, Carrie, this has been an interesting conversation. Thank you so much for taking the time to chat with me about everything new at Blue Point and about the craft beer industry in general. I really appreciate it.
C: No, thank you so much for having me. I appreciate it.
Thanks so much for listening to the “VinePair Podcast.” If you love this show as much as we love making it, then please leave a rating or review on iTunes, Spotify, Stitcher, or wherever it is you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show.
Now for the credits. VinePair is produced and recorded in New York City and in Seattle, Wash., by myself and Zach Geballe, who does all the editing and loves to get the credit. Also, I would love to give a special shout-out to my VinePair co-founder Josh Malin for helping make all this possible, and also to Keith Beavers, VinePair’s tasting director, who is additionally a producer on the show. I also want to, of course, thank every other member of the VinePair team who is instrumental in all of the ideas that go into making the show every week. Thanks so much for listening, and we’ll see you again.
The article Next Round: General Manager of Blue Point Brewery Carrie Shafir on the Future of Craft Beers appeared first on VinePair.
Via https://vinepair.com/articles/next-round-blue-point-brewery/
source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/next-round-general-manager-of-blue-point-brewery-carrie-shafir-on-the-future-of-craft-beers
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