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talesofsonicasura · 3 years

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Wonderful Hunter

Chapter 1: Awakening

Life was very odd when it came to the future. Sometimes souls are brought together in the most extreme circumstances...in a bang. Warning: Description of graphic injuries and swearing! Rating Estimate: Teen

I never wanted to be a hunter. Ever since I was little, there was a desire in me to perform. Dance on the stage to my own melody, to bring awe and in wonder for others to witness. A dream that I never had a chance to grab.

To perform in little free time, what wasn't taken by vigorous unwanted training. Nearly every piece of money made to buy materials with the purpose of crafting costumes was placed for ointment to mend any injury or ailment. A toy soldier who wished to no longer have a winding key.

Who would've thought that day where the key had broken was the day I died?

"What the hell did you do?!" The soft whir of electricity echoed through the void in a massive blur of distortion. Voices clear for all to hear but so jumbled that a possible identification of even a gender was impossible. Under all that chaos was a quiet heartbeat. "The machine is overloading! Everyone evacuate immediately!"

That soft whir grew into a high pitched whine as a formed cacophony alongside the harsh thuds from thousands of stomping feet. "___?! No, come back it's too dangerous! Leave that mongrel behind!" Growls of pain and concern from some unknown animal blend together with the crackle of electricity.

An explosion of bright white and velvet purple burst throughout the void with that heartbeat going silent and a small voice hidden amongst it all. Despite the darkness filling the abyss, sensations of phantom pain, muffled voices full of concern, and hands across the skin, that one voice overrides them all.

"We had a good run, pal. Misfits always stick together, ____."

Bright red eyes opened with a harsh start, their owner fully aware of the unfamiliar dimly lit room around them. These confused ruby orbs belonged to a young man around his mid 20s, and almost nude except for the black boxer briefs. Wild cherry blossom pink hair that ends halfway down the man's back, soft peach tan skin, 6'8 tall body sculpted with lithe but powerful muscle and covered in various scars.

Some of these healed wounds were mild such as scratches, bite marks, punctures but there were extreme ones from burns whether it be acid, electric or fire, 2 in deep lacerations to even a large bite mark on the jugular of his neck. Part of the man's body such as his chest and arms were covered in fresh gauze bandages paired with a crude makeshift splint on the right arm.

Raising an eyebrow, the young man removed the bandages whilst breaking the splint with a harsh pull before he took in his surroundings. The room seemed to belong to someone with a rich background from the decor alone. Pastel blue walls lined with beautiful expertly painted portraits, furnished dark oak dressers, a large vanity, double king sized bed complete with silk sheets, pillows, and hard oak frame, large oak wardrobe and three separate doors.

If anything, this made the man feel very out of place. He did catch what looked to be a pair of clothes folded by a table near him, a note on top of the stack. The pinkette delicately got out of the large bed and walked over to the table. 'Dear guest, sorry if I had to leave you a bit underdressed but your wounds needed to be addressed. Hope these would suit you until your wounds finally finish healing. The discussion about the armor would be a later dealing. Sincerely, Maestro of Wonderworld Theatre, Balan."

The man couldn't help the snort or raised eyebrow from the rhyme scheme of the note. His caretaker had left a plain white shirt and long black pants, the material being silk from spiders by the feel of it. Placing the clothes on, he noticed it was a perfect fit suspiciously as it wasn't too tight or loose.

Upon leaving the room, the young man fully understood where he was. It seemed to be a theatre, well, if a theatre was mixed with the dimensional size of a small mansion and aesthetics of a castle. The grand small staircases, rafters above a tall ceiling, fancy torches hanging through a few corridors and the various posters of different shows being some evidence.

As the pinkette walked down the halls, he couldn't ignore the feeling that he was either being watched or led somewhere. The corridors felt wrong, almost if the walls were alive and shuffling each other. He also can't forget the sensation of invisible eyes on his lone form. Whatever the case, the sound of someone talking or to be precise, two people grew louder.

"You are not touching my guest, Lance. Even if the man is odd, I will still hold a defensive stance./ That human isn't normal. Something you would easily notice if you drop being formal. Injuries on his flesh were those that can kill any human. You aren't blind to that weapon and armor made from materials that aren't of man."

Both voices were definitely male in tone and their owners' clearly arguing. The first voice was deep and had a texture similar to smooth chocolate, a type of sweetness paired with charisma. The second voice was softer just as it was light in pitch, however there was hidden animosity to the calm yet alluring tone, a siren luring their delusional prey.

All of it was coming behind a slightly opened door, perfect to peek through or eavesdrop. Quietly the pinkette tiptoed over to the oak frame, ruby eyes looking into the room on the other side. This particular door led to what appeared to be a bar from the kegs put on the side of the bar stand and the various liquor bottles stacked on the shelves behind it.

Sitting at a table adjacent to each other were two humanoids, both being significantly different from the other. The only traits these two oddities shared were their tall 10 maybe 11 ft tall forms, peculiarly thin waists, tendril-like hair, performer attire, spindly arms and spindly legs. Other than that, they could be considered Yin and Yang or opposites.

The one on the left had soft jellyfish-like pastel green hair similar to dreadlocks, pitch black skin, a large perpetual toothy smile, and amber yellow eyes that peered through his hat. A sparkling white hat bearing a red ribbon which acted like a mask for those odd eyes, red cravat, long sleeved short white coat with gold elegant rims, a black tuxedo vest, short red cape alongside fancy white gloves, long glittering white pants that were ruby red past the thigh with gold rims on the bottom, and white pointed shoes.

His opposed companion looked more human except for some glaring details. Deathly pale skin highlight by soft dark violet, long elven ears, blue eyes bearing slit pupils that dwelled in yellow iris, sharp clawed fingers, and long black tendrils with elegant markings in various colors such as green, pink, blue and yellow that sprung from the man's back but was also his hair.

A pitch black bodysuit with gold rims, torn long sleeved short violet cloak bearing elegant gold embroidery for a top, white mask shaped pauldrons on his bony hips and gold toed shoes made for nasty kicks. Wine glasses sat between these two eldritch like entities.

"Dragging others into darkness might be your role, but this one isn't taking a more grizzly toll. He is also greatly injured and like you said could've been dead if I didn't help instead." Spoke the top hatted male, that deep velvet voice belonging to him. It also meant that the darker counterpart had to be Lance from what the pinkette heard outside.

The young man scanned the room, ruby eyes looking for anything familiar to him. His focus immediately sharpened on the glint of darkish violet poking from a large wooden crate, belonging stripped off the pinkette. Carefully and quietly, the man opened the door then slipped inside.

He stuck close to the floor and moved about as the two slender giants were focused on their conversation. It was almost comical how the young man traveled on his hands and feet like a predatory cat, stealthily approaching the target without a sound.

The pinkette was about to reach for the box when the unexpected happened. The door he went through had slammed itself shut with a loud thud, both giants immediately pulled out of their conversation and watched as the chairs parted away from each other. An act that put the stunned human on full display, a deer in the headlights or hand in the cookie jar situation.

No one moved as it was a silent staredown, neither were expecting the chairs or door to come to life like that. It was the man who immediately broke out of his stupor first, the pinkette sidekicking the crate. The box shook as an object was flung out of it by the harsh force, a gun.

It was a double barrel shotgun that was an inky sinister violet in color, the barrels were that same violet but lightened to a red color by the end, the handle of the gun mimicked a dark violet scabbard bearing tannish gold spiral patterns on the side, bone like caparace similar to a segmented blade lined the bottom of the gun barrel and held the trigger within a bone like cage.

With very fluid movements, the pinkette grabbed the descending gun from the air by the handle and spun it until he was holding the trigger whilst the barrel was aimed at the two taller entities. Sapphire and amber could see the subtle cautious fear hidden in those steeled ruby orbs.

"Who the hell are you? And where am I?" The pinkette's voice was slightly rugged, fire within the husky baritone, and a bit of a growl in the pitch. You could hear how deadly serious the human male was at the moment from his voice alone. Lance and his unnamed companion carefully put their hands in the air, sudden movements would only spook the pinkette further.

"There is nothing to fear, you are completely safe here! Please put the gun down, such an item used in a theatre is a huge frown!" Even that giant smile remained despite the slight twitches that showed the top hatted male's nervousness, well, that plus the beads of sweat and now dot sized pupils.

Lance merely raised an eyebrow at the weapon. "You do know it is rude to destroy those bandages you were given? Balan had some difficulty but his will to help you was focused and driven." Those words made the pinkette lower his weapon but not drop it.

He contemplated the words then thought back to the note. Whatever conclusion that came to mind was enough for the smaller man to put the gun down on the table, something that eased the room's occupants. "That means you're Balan? Fucking hell. What the hell happened to me?" The pinkette questioned as he went to sit on the floor only for a chair to move in place instead.

An action that made the human jump back in shock, nearly kicking the chair. "Bloody hell! My day has already been Congalala shit so I really don't need all these magical shenanigans! Please tell me you have some liquor to spare." Balan and Lance could only look at each other completely aware of a very odd explanation.

Not even 5 minutes later, the pink haired man had down half a bottle of wine as he now sat with the taller odd men in the room. Massaging his head, the mortal man finally spoke up. "So I am in a magical sentient theatre that serves as a gateway to someone's heart. You two, mainly Balan, are tasked to use that magic to bring balance to anyone whose heart is out of place upon entering. Nearly godlike beings who performed this task for over 3000 years?"

The top hatted Maestro nodded his head in agreement while Lance took another swig of his wine glass. Both of them ignored the pinkette swearing under his breath, the guy was having a bad day so it was normal. Although none of them could deny that this particular person was anything normal at all.

"Alright. My name is Val'tah, Val'tah Choso and I'm a Monster Hunter." Val'tah quickly raised his hand up before Balan and Lance almost immediately shot out of their seats. "Whoa! Not that kind of hunter for Namielle's sake so don't have your knickers in a bunch. Do any of you have a pen and paper?"

Magically upon request, the mint green haired performer took out a pen and notepad from behind his cravat. Rolling his eyes, the hunter took the items and began to draw something on the paper. Val'tah then placed it on the table for both Maestros to see.

It was a sketch of what looked like a dragon made completely from stone. Stony humps that grew bits of moss protruding from the back, a tail that looked like large pebbles strung together, even flat wings to a wide meteor shaped body and narrowed rhinoceros-like face. "That is a Basarios, a Monster or species of monster."

Lance and Balan looked at the picture with curiosity. It definitely explained why the man had that sort of weapon or armor. "Hunters are sort of like mercenary peacekeepers. Whenever a monster starts a huge ruckus or someone has a job in monster infested territory, we get called to do it."

Taking a swig from the wine bottle, much to Balan's distaste, Val'tah continued. "We don't have to slay targets such as the Basarios if we want to. A Hunter has permission to capture and relocate any large monster to a better habitat, something that I usually do. Where I'm from, it's our duty to keep the balance of not only the ecosystem but between human and monster kind."

A hum of acknowledgment rumbled from Lance's throat, it was almost comical in a sense. Normal hunters have various goals in mind when it comes to hunting: glory or survival. This was the first time hearing about ones who bring balance amongst more dangerous fauna and humans. How very ironic.

"Very interesting, to imagine there is a world beyond the realm of our understanding. There is still a question, how did you end up in our sacred bastion?" Balan's question rang through Val'tah's head alongside a bit of pain. Memories flashing through the pinkette's mind as a look of solemn horror crossed his face.

"I'm remembering it now. I was assigned to an expedition to investigate some odd ruins located near Wyvern's End, a den of a very dangerous monster. Those ruins were actually a machine that accidentally turned on and… I think I was caught in an explosion. Dear Namielle, I think I died."

Silence washed over the room, it was so deafening that a pin drop could be considered a bomb going off. Balan's perpetual smile dropped into a neutral frown, horror crossing his eyes upon the hunter's visage earlier. Severe burns on the unprotected skin and his arm in a very unnatural angle...Wait.

Any other chance to say anything was stopped when a look of abstract terror and grief burned within Val'tah's eyes. "No…! Buena was with me. She must have got caught in the blast too! Where's Buena?!" The pinkette shot out of his chair, the piece of furniture hitting the floor with a loud thud.

Neither Lance or Balan could grab the hunter before he ran for the door, the hard oak opening into a gray expanse of rocky terrain than the actual hallway. Not that the change deterred the hunter as Val'tah ran in but surely took the two Maestros by surprise.

"The theatre opened its doors to a new world never seen before! Could this be the hunter's trauma born from his core or is it something more?" Balan was quick to pick out the growing intrigue within his darker counterpart's words. There was more going on with Val'tah but they couldn't figure it out without finding the man.

Both Maestros quickly ran through those doors to catch up with the hunter and his questionable head start. It appeared that the gray expanse was actually the part of a larger mountain, a steppe to be more accurate. Thick deciduous forests could be made out past some of the gray rocky cliffs other than the one the door led them there, vast yellow fields of grass and very rough uneven terrain laid alongside unknown fauna than just plants.

Or the terrifying large nest made from various sticks, broken logs, ivy, bones of different creatures; humans included, and large egg shell remains of whatever species made it. The only indication that this world was made by Val'tah's heart were the small floating islands and giant airborne accessories or props.

Ribbons woven through part of the forest, a showman's cane that hung by the cliff leading down to the grassy plain, masks hanging across the stone walls, and instruments disguised as plants or rocks playing beautiful music bearing a tribal origin by the beating drums, whistling flutes and sitar strings being strung.

"How very odd and peculiar. This place must be spawned from a memory very familiar. It will be harder to avoid any wrong, when the aura of this world is heavily strong." Balan spoke wearily, a feeling that they were being watched prickle the fuzz on his skin. There was also the strong sensation about splitting up being a very bad idea.

Using the cane to slide down to the forest below helped give both theatre dwellers a quick glimpse of the surrounding areas before they hit the ground. For a split second, Lance swore he saw something large moved through the trees. Whatever it was, it was too big to be Val'tah or any of his familiars.

Both Maestros landed on a reddish clay ridge, small ledges to an almost natural stone bridge connected the large ditch at the center, a small stream of water passing down the middle, various large mushrooms and beehives leaking honey from multiple branches. Or that they weren't exactly alone.

Grazing about the area were deer, their pelts were a dark green speckled by white dots that overlapped a soft peach underbelly, large grayish silver antlers for the males whilst the females had short black horns and azure eyes that stared at the duo. Some of the deer continued to munch on the flora while the others kept a wary gaze on Balan and Lance.

"Definitely inhabitants of Wonderworld but not quite. I think these deer were crafted by Val'tah's memories that hold powerful might." If these animals shared similar traits to their earthly counterparts, the Dark Maestro knew they were relatively harmless unless provoked.

Another thought then immediately crossed Balan's mind. "If these creatures are here, then we might have more to fear. These deer are prey…" Suddenly the various green pelted beasts rose their heads up, ears twitching as if they caught something the other two hadn't.

"Wouldn't a predator cause dismay?" The top hat wearing man really didn't like where things were going as the large herd began to scatter immediately when the sound of heavy thuds could be heard. One deer was running for the bridge, the thuds stopped and both Maestros only had time to blink when something large and purple snatched the scared fawn off the stone ground.

"Holy shit." Balan would've scolded Lance for foul language if they didn't have a bigger problem on their hands. The body of the snatched deer hung limply from the jaws of a giant purple monster. A 69 ft hulking dark violet draconic tiger, its body mostly covered in violet and yellow edged plates of caparace like armor bearing a ruby red underbelly, a short tigerine snout that held large sharp teeth and two large tusks at the ends of the mouth, giant jagged yellow horns that mimicked those on the helms of samurai which also covered long thin ears or the burning azure eyes.

Both front and back legs held four digit paws carrying razor sharp claws or what looked to be long yellow spikes on the forelegs, and the large reptilian tail that ended with a three pointed Spade spear. Balan and Lance watch the deer disappear into the beast's mouth, minced to pieces down its gullet and the feline smiled with blood tinted fangs.

Or that the draconic tiger let out a threatening roar right at the duo as bright blue fire burst from the edges of its mouth like a miasma. They barely had the chance to jump out of the way when the giant beast bounced at the two, sharp claws shredding through the dirt as if it were paper.

"This is a beast we'll have to fight or neither of us will come out alright!" Violence wasn't something Balan often indulged in but he knew there were times that he had no choice. Facing his hands forth, small spheres of yellow energy manifested on the maestro's fingertips before tossing them in the form of arrows.

With a wag of its tail, the draconic tiger brought forth burning blue will o' wisps and launched it back with a tail swipe. Both volleys of energy exploded into fireworks of their respective color, the armored beast leaping through the smoke with claws alight in blue fire.

Lance quickly dove under the beast while Balan flew over to the left side, the Dark Maestro flared out the tendrils on his back then slammed into the beast's unprotected belly alongside a vicious uppercut. The violet tiger felt the pain but took the opportunity to release a thin burst of glittering blue powder from its body before being launched into the air by Lance's attack.

Whatever the blue powder was irritated the raven haired male, the sensation being a mixture of itchy powder and bubbling hot grease. "Lance, look out!" Balan's shout made him look up at the airborne beast, the spade of its tail had opened into a trident as it swung the limb through the air.

The momentum being enough to correct the beast's position and trajectory so it could dive-bomb the Dark Maestro like a burning blue meteor. Neither of them expected for that particular powder to ignite upon contact as Balan watched his dark counterpart get flying by an azure explosion from his own body.

Creating a larger blast of yellow energy, the hat wearing man threw it at the violet tiger before heading over to his fallen ally. It let out a howl of annoyance upon the projectiles not only striking it's face but burst into a thick mustard smokescreen that made the feline gag.

Lance laid slanted by the tree he had hit, burn marks sprinkled over parts of his skin and clothing was singed too. "You okay, Lance?! This beast has more frightening power than just a ferocious stance!" Balan spoke, carefully helping his counterpart off the ground.

The movement made the elven male let out a mild hiss before shaking the greenette's hand off him. "As much as I like seeing you frown, this beast needs to be taken down. Balan, watch out for any powder from the skin of the hide, you'll lose more than just your pride."

Sharp claws of the draconic tiger swept away the hatted maestro's smokescreen. Bright blue fire burning burst the open jaws, the feline was absolutely pissed as even more azure fire spewed from the legs and tail or that the yellow ridges on the back and forelegs were now giant blades. It let out a furious roar forcing Balan and Lance to prepare for another attack.

That was until the entire world became silent, all of the instruments had oddly stopped playing. It was quiet until the sound of shamisen strings being plucked filled the still air with an orchestra of intimidating brass to follow in its wake. Sinister sounding melodies of violins and shinobue flutes were met with someone walking out from the brush.

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It was Val'tah, a violet mask resembling the tiger donned on his face alongside dark violet coat with golden fur sleeves, dark violet hakama trousers decorated in elegant gold patterns reminiscent of fire and swords, two fake tails similar to the violet beast sewn on the back and without any shoes, only barefooted.

Balan and Lance stood speechless as the pinkette did something neither of them expected. The hunter had begun to dance in a style similar to those done by kabuki actors. His arms glided through the air, bits of glittering violet powder produced from the sleeves creating streaks in the air with an appearance mimicking purple misty fire.

Val'tah stomped his foot to the ground to spread out the mist like powder around him, the man spun into a short pirouette so he could stop in the Dragon Stance found in martial arts. It was like the hunter was manipulating magic to flow with his elegant and entrancing dance.

The sinister orchestra went perfectly with Val'tah's movements. Beating of hand drums, male chants with an ominous tone, shinobue flutes paired alongside the plucks of the shamisen and strung chords of the violin told a story on its own. A ritual performance of omens and cautionary tribulations.

Balan and Lance couldn't look away, neither could the beast who appeared to be calming down. The long yellow caparace blades lower themselves back into thin ridges, the trident tip of the tail collapses into its spade form and the eerie blue fire burning around the beast sputters out. Bright blue in its eyes dimming into a soft mellow teal.

Val'tah spun on the ball of his feet before transitioning into an aerial kick. The pinkette then used the momentum of the kick to position himself so he could bring down his arm in for a slash. He landed on the ground in a predatory stance, nails of his right hand dug into the soil, feet spread apart with knees bent for a crouch, left arm held out behind the man and the tiger mask facing the spectators.

The hunter then twirled himself into a backflip, all for the purpose of landing on his feet with his arms held and hands pressed together while the fingers were positioned to mimic fangs. Val'tah pulled his arms apart and let out a loud beastly roar with the final loud beats of the drum, the draconic tiger letting out its own roar in unison.

The pinkette took off his mask once the music returned to its more peaceful counterpart. "Glad I made it in time or Buena would've torn you to pieces. Luckily the Sonata of Omens can be played here or I would've been forced to do an acapella." Balan nearly choked upon the words Val'tah just said.

The giant hellish tiger that spews blue explosive fire was the hunter's friend?! Something Lance couldn't help but state the inquiry out loud. "You telling us the beast that nearly had us ravaged, is your companion that you ran off to scavenged?!"

Val'tah sheepishly scratched his head and let out a soft chuckle. The beast or Buena groomed their paws as if nothing happened. "She is a Magnamalo and they tend to be... tenacious predators. Buena is unique since she's friendlier than the regular 'malo, at least to me and any friend of mine."

Balan had a feeling there was more to this odd bond than just a story but… "At least your missing friend has been found, even if she treated us like a steak for a pound. Best to return back to the theatre, Lance got burnt bruises that need gauze by the meter." The top hatted Maestro then clapped his hands together as a giant door formed behind him.

It was big enough for the large Magnamalo to go through without any hindrance. Val'tah had a feeling there was going to be more magical convenience when it came to this odd theatre than just the taller duo living inside and a magical replica of the ritual clothing for the Sonata of Omens. Something to think about when he tries to figure out their situation.

And that's it! Yes this is a crossover between Balan Wonderworld and Monster Hunter but also my first Balan fic too! If you guys don't know, Balan Wonderworld is one of the games I've recently got and wholeheartedly. Sure it had problems but it was a delightful experience throughout my entire playthrough.

If you do decide to get the game, wait until it goes on sale. The full price isn't really suited considering the huge controversy involving it's development.

Our two star characters of this fic are an unlikely pair.

'The Hunter Who Wished To Dance' and owner of the mysterious 13th Door in Wonderworld: Val'tah Choso. A Monster Hunter who strived to become a performer but forsaken the goal partly for his ward, Buena.

Buena is a subspecies of Magnamalo called Will-O-Wisp Magnamalo. They expel blue fire often mistaken for spirit orbs and can engulf their body in an armor of azure fire for offensive defense. Only the Sonata of Omens, a mysterious ritualistic dance can calm a rampaging Magnamalo.

Until next time folks! I'll see you back in Wonderworld.

19 notes · View notes

nocturnalsleeper · 4 years

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500 Drawing Prompts

waterfall

wizard's staff

zombies

sandcastle

fangs

tattoo

family crest

spaceship

mythical beast

spooky tree

alien

tropical cocktail

robot

dragon

tombstone

medieval goblets

king's throne

mermaid

vampire

witch's cauldron

tooth fairy

deep sea monster

magic carpet

sculpture

coral reef

wine bottle

statue of liberty

beast

beauty

elephant

Mayan ruins

birds

cameras

bowl of soup

breakfast

lunch

snack

dinner

flower vase

ladder

full moon

bright sun

autumn

summer

spring

winter

butterfly

caterpillar

troll

roller skates

rain boots

weeds

flowers

bedroom

kitchen

dining room

bathroom

egg hatching

wrist watch

night

harvest

pond

raincoat

hat

water bottle

flashlight

sailboat

dandelion

earthworm

bank robber

policeman

superhero

villain

view out a window

cactus

sunflower

mosquito

spider web

star fish

flip flops

lawn chair

trampolines

pots and pans

sword

lighthouse

pie on a windowsill

house plant

soldier

chimney

barbed wire

squirrels

hot sauce

chain

beehive

helicopter

hot dog

venus flytrap

stained glass

sphinx

skateboard

serenity

open book

werewolf

hourglass

tower

camel

Cleopatra

favorite book character

desert

forest

mountains

ocean

pumpkin seed

pine cone

octopus

mannequin

lollipop

something sticky

footprints

tractor

slime

island paradise

sand dune

archer

my favorite outfit

trophies

fishing fly

black hole

cyclops

swan

mirror

microphone

pretzels

newspaper

submarine

scrambled eggs

eel

wave

bike

leather boots

keys

coffee cup

self portrait

snake charmer

playground

sumo wrestler

crystal chandelier

eight ball

secrets

treasure chest

children's toy

something that sparkles

penguin

unicorn

pirate

tribal pattern

suit of armor

pinball machine

erupting volcano

seahorse

ninja

happy monster

futuristic car

three little pigs

magic amulet

yeti

toolbox

fish bones

zipper

carpenter

handcuffs

doll house

mask

telescope

piano

windmill

double sided axe

samurai

ghost

hot air balloon

bubbles

polka dots

plate of cookies

snake scales

pair of socks

high dive

belt

figure skater

fisherman

space

jack-o-lantern

Cinderella's glass slipper

hay bale

bumper cars

cover wagon

spy

fighter jet

parachute

tree bark

radio

art gallery

bow and arrow

pepperoni pizza

snail

bushel of apples

doorknob

talking object

harp

chess pieces

sprinkler

electricity

computer keyboard

presents

barn

plaid

jewelry

ballet

curtains

tripod

sunglasses

bow tie

Saturn's rings

birdcage

swap creature

horse and carriage

banana peel

stapler

toothpaste

thunder storm

movie poster

video game controller

cinnamon sticks

target

skull

elf

alien plant life

first love

new baby

kids jumping

glaciers

shark

scarf

wheelchair

blacksmith

four wheeler

cowboy

crossroads

pedestal

police car

pug

someone who is full of joy

what's under your bed

hieroglyph

dolphin

wooden shield

laughing

jump rope

desk

something big next to something small

taxi

staircase

tomahawk

hummingbird

hedgehog

gorilla

firetruck

soda can

teddy bear

fortune cookie

fruit basket

smirk

game of marbles

crumpled paper

swordfish

alarm clock

goldfish

puppet

salt and pepper shakers

jet pack

time machine

hands

wood fencing

cave mouth

milkshake

high heeled shoes

music

smile

mad scientist

telephone booth

skyscraper

gargoyle

diamond

sushi

brier patch

something that comes in pairs

box of chocolates

brick wall

bat

chicken

bonsai tree

headphones

a new typeface

jellyfish

candy canes

lawn mower

rain puddles

school

lamb

wolf

bed

bowl of popcorn

lampshade

peacock

turtle

bear

ceiling fan

yo-yo

oil spill

kite

invisible man

casino

Abraham Lincoln

ice cream cone

corn on the cob

claws

beekeeper

coins

watermelon

landing on the moon

rotary telephone

brain

rocks

needle in a haystack

picnic basket

fireplace

bottle of poison

genie in a bottle

knight

hammer

acorn

orange

owl

hair

wheel barrel

pyramids

exploding dynamite

shrimp

guitarist

keyboardist

drummer

singer

griffin

carousel horse

bunnies

puppies

board game

a famous painting

stone walkway

maple leaf

lizard

eyes

ears

nose

mouth

leopard

record player

bulldozer

bride

snowman

feather headdress

playing cards

windy day

sleeping bag

dancing skeleton

piggy bank

wizard

evil prince

lantern

beach ball

cherub

sprout

aircraft carrier

olympic swimmer

wedding dress

feather

baseball glove

noodles

cat

dog

happy

sad

angry

relaxed

graffiti

motorcycle

tornado

caveman

pineapple

Lock Ness monster

flag

gas mask

starry sky

dream house

deer

Goldilocks

frog

tadpole

swing

circus clown

earth

cupcake

lace

rocking chair

bravery

Big Ben

doctor

railroad car

parade

Christmas sweater

Ferris wheel

sci-fi gun

medicine cabinet

birthday party

cutlery

great wall of china

umbrella

traffic sign

catapult

light bulb

bamboo

heart

moon colony

sandwiches

juice box

lake house

bushes

hard candy

camouflage

platypus

football helmet

soccer game

balloons

astronaut

missing teeth

memory

jukebox

tulip

ladybug

birthday cake

t-shirt

igloo

golf ball

fossils

your least favorite food

pencil cup

half eaten apple

food with a face

horseshoe

daffodil

castle

tea party

scared

bag of chips

camping

cabin

bonfire

ship

watering can

palm tree

wind chimes

armchair

fireworks

knife

wine cork

waitress

farmer

fountain

last leaf on a tree

saber toothed tiger

grocery store

rainbow

typewriter

engine

bluebird

shooting star

a new invention

school of fish

bearded lady

secret garden

suspension bridge

viking artifact

Eiffel tower

a feast for a king

guitar

tree house

seashell

dinosaur

sea lion

Taj Mahal

your favorite animal in a tuxedo

#art prompt #drawing #drawing prompt #challenge

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girlinthe-chair · 6 years

Text

Rain & Snow

PAIRING: Tom HollandxOriginal Character (Sloane Reed) SUMMARY: Tom and Sloane have been dating each other for a while, but not without some difficulties. Written from Tom’s perspective, Tom and Sloane are faced with dealing with their unspoken problems. WORD COUNT: a beautifully long 5,666 words A/N: So I really need to thank a couple of people, @upsidedownparker and @bisexualparkers , for helping me A LOT with this. Their feedback was unbelievably helpful for me trying to figure out where I was going with this. Not to mention, I love this a lot more than when I started writing it. It took me a lot longer to write than I was expecting, but I poured my heart and soul (and maybe a little bit of tears) into this. I would love for feedback on this, and whether or not you want me to continue this!

“Thank you so much, Tom,” the yoga-pants-clad blonde moaned into Tom’s ear. Her razor nails dug into his skin, undoubtedly leaving red marks in their wake. Tom prayed the girl — woman? Honestly, he couldn’t tell — couldn’t feel how tense he was standing next to her. He had entirely forgotten what she’d said her name was.

The girl had given her phone to Sloane, who was probably attempting to angle the picture so Tom and the blonde were wholly in the middle of the frame. Sloane’s expression was unreadable — she wasn’t smiling but she wasn’t frowning, she kept her eyes trained onto the screen in front of her in deliberate indifference, and most notably, was taking long, steady breaths in and out. Tom found it mildly terrifying, but he knew what it meant. Sloane was not in the best of moods.

Out of nowhere, Sloane put on the most overly enthusiastic smile to never reach the eyes Tom had ever seen her wear.

“Okay, on three. One, two…” Sloane snapped the pictures hastily. The girl’s nails dug deeper into the skin on his wrist. It was probably out of nervousness, and Tom couldn’t blame her for it, but it hurt like hell, and all he wanted to do was pry his arm away before she broke the skin. He was sure he didn’t have the most delightful look on his face in the pictures.

Sloane relaxed her arms and rested the phone by her side after what felt like millennia. The girl glided over to her, taking the phone from Sloane’s outstretched hand without a single glance her way. Sloane took another measured breath.

“I hope you like them,” she said, careful to keep the smile plastered on. The girl nodded, scrolling through the pictures silently before looking up and throwing a sultry smile Tom’s way. She waved at him, each individual finger moving one by one. She said something about tagging him in the pictures, but Tom couldn’t hear her very well with her back turned to him. She obnoxiously swung her hips in a blatant attempt to get him to stare at her ass as she walked away. Luckily — for Tom and the girl’s sakes — he was more preoccupied with looking at Sloane, his eyebrows pinched. He could tell she was doing everything in her power to keep her face neutral, what with her fists clenched at her sides, watching after the girl. If neutral looks could kill…

Tom walked over to Sloane, trying to grab her attention. She didn’t come back to reality until he placed his hand on her waist, her hazel eyes snapping up to meet Tom’s.

“I’m sorry, love,” Tom said, pushing Sloane’s brown curls behind her ear. She started to lean into his hand but stopped herself.

Sloane crossed her arms, looking down at the wet pavement below her feet. “What do you have to be sorry for?” she muttered. “You were just doing your job. I can’t get mad at you for that.”

A pang of guilt twisted his stomach. “Sloane, you can still be mad at me. It was supposed to be a me and you day, and people have been getting in the way.”

Twenty-two people, to be absolutely accurate. Twenty-two of Tom’s fans had come up to them asking for a picture or a video of Tom saying hi to their friend. To say that Tom understood Sloane’s frustration would be an understatement. It only took so many people coming up to him essentially asking for a favor he would feel bad denying before it started wearing on him. Of course, there were the upsides, like seeing an eight-year-old’s eyes light up when they recognize him as Spider-Man. On any good day, though, twenty-two people were a lot for him, but he was with his girl who he hadn’t seen in ages. It wasn’t too much asking for a day out in public with her, was it?

Tom watched Sloane become less and less animated as the day went on. Sure, she held onto his hand like always, but she slowly started talking less like she was waiting for someone to interrupt their conversation. Sloane started looking around them more instead of looking at him. At this point, Tom was good at ignoring the stares and not-so-whispered comments and clicks of cameras, but it took a lot of getting used to and a lot of time in the public eye. He still didn’t feel entirely comfortable with it. He knew Sloane was even less so.

“You know I’m insanely proud of you, right?” Sloane asked, meeting Tom’s eyes.

Tom tried not to smile at that. He failed but nodded anyway.

“And you know that I’m doing my damndest right now too, right?”

He pulled her closer to him by the ends of her jacket. “Of course,” Tom insisted. “And you’re doing perfectly, love.”

Sloane snorted unabashedly. “I think ‘perfectly’ may be a bit of a stretch, Tom, but thank you.” She sighed. “It’s just…it can be a lot, ya know?”

Tom leaned down, resting his forehead on Sloane’s. “Do you still want to go to dinner?” he asked. “Because I could take you home right now, and you could rest on the couch with a glass of wine while I cook you up the best damn cheese omelet you’ve ever had if that’s what you want.”

Sloane gave him a real smile this time, a light laugh lingering at the end of her breath. “As wonderful as that sounds, I think I want to go to a real restaurant.”

He kissed her nose, taking Sloane’s hand in his. “Then let’s go, darling.”

Tom wasn’t a person with a whole lot of downtime. If he wasn’t shooting a movie, he was promoting one. It was a near constant cycle: prep for a shoot, film the movie, do reshoots, travel to promote, rinse and repeat. Needless to say, Tom was a very busy man, and he only seemed to be getting busier. His popularity was skyrocketing, and there were plenty of directors and producers clamoring to attach Tom to their projects.

The only problem with that was that Tom and Sloane didn’t get to see each other as often as they would like. Yes, the two facetimed and texted as often as they could when he was on set, but it wasn’t like having each other there to actually lean on. Waking up to a “good morning” text was nothing compared to waking up to the real thing.

So it came as a happy surprise to Sloane when Tom called saying he had three whole weeks of zero obligations and unlimited free time. Sloane didn’t have to ask if he was coming to visit. He was on the first flight from London to Seattle he could book. After three and a half months of facetiming and texting, the two were desperate to see each other without worrying about the connection or battery life.

When Sloane picked him up from SeaTac airport, the first thing she did when she saw him was barrel run at him and jump in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Tom had to drop his bags — and his phone — to catch her, but he couldn’t care less. He peppered her face with kisses and squeezed her close to him. Both Sloane and Tom had activities in mind for the evening, but he fell asleep almost as soon as he got to her apartment, stumbling onto her bed fully dressed. Sloane gave him to next day to adjust to the timezone, which he mainly spent sleeping with a blanket over his head or sleeping with his head in her lap.

The next day, Sloane took Tom on a local’s tour of Seattle as if he’d never been before. She dragged him to the aquarium, getting a few good pictures of him next to the jellyfish tank and, of course, she had to take him to Pike Place Market. “You can’t go to Seattle and not go to Pike Place,” Sloane kept repeating. Tom bought her an overly large sunflower from one of the many flower stands on the street, dramatically getting down on his knee just to hand her the flower. She bought an overly large cookie that was about the size of her head to shared together. Naturally, Tom ate most of it. Tom hesitated when Sloane brought up going on the Great Wheel on Pier 57. He eventually relented after Sloane tricked him into getting in line — he thought she was looking for a bathroom.

The entire day, Tom let Sloane talk and talk and talk, mostly nonsense and inane ramblings about professors and coworkers, or the most recent book she’d read. He’d already heard most of what she had to say during one of the many FaceTime sessions or through texts, but he let her ramble. He enjoyed watching how giddy Sloane got when she talked about something she liked, how her hand gestures became more exaggerated as the story went along and how she suddenly forgot the concept of volume control. Tom loved to actually see how her green eyes got light and bright whenever she looked at him. More importantly, he relished the warmth he felt in his chest when he saw the light and bright in her eyes.

Tom didn’t think much of it when he saw someone with an impressive camera in their hand. Sloane had brought him to the most touristy parts of Seattle after all, so he just assumed it was just another tourist. Not to mention, very few fans had come up to them for pictures that day. But it wasn’t just another tourist. After Tom saw the first person, he began to see more people with impressive cameras not so subtly pointing the lens in their direction. They started off taking their pictures from a distance, but the vultures soon began to swarm the two, pushing their cameras in their faces, not worried about blinding them with the flashes. They shouted questions Tom couldn’t hear or understand, but Tom could hear Sloane call his name weakly. She mumbled it under her breath, along with a whole slew of other orders that just tumbled out of her mouth. When he looked down at her, her face was bunched up. The little wrinkle between her eyebrows told Tom she was about to have a panic attack.

Not wanting to add gasoline to the already smoldering wildfire that had become their day, Tom kept himself as composed as he could, holding Sloane to his side and shielding her face with his hand. Tom repeatedly told them to bugger off. It took them a while to actually do it.

Tom took her home after that, apologizing profusely and brushing her hair out of her face whenever she wouldn’t look up from her hands. He let her breathe, let stray tears fall but not without wiping them away. He did everything he knew to do to help calm her down. Tom hated seeing her like that and felt powerless when he thought he wasn’t helping as much as he wanted to. Sloane kept her eyes closed for a long time, silently sobbing in the passenger seat next to him.

Yes, he knew she was doing her best. Before they even started dating, Tom made sure she knew she wasn’t just getting him. It was his fans, the long months away, and the unwarranted attention she would receive simply by association. She said he was worth it all and made that clear every time they talked. That didn’t stop the guilt and worry from building up anytime they stepped outside.

The restaurant Sloane picked was incredibly active, bordering on hectic. The conversations people were having in the dining room melted together to become just one big noise, with smatterings of dishes clanking and shouting from the kitchen. Tom knew what she was doing. The more people there were, the less likely they would stand out and get bombarded. The hostess sat the two right in the middle of the restaurant in one of the side booths. She kept her attention on Sloane, but Tom could feel her glance bouncing back and forth between him and Sloane, probably trying not to stare at him too much and instead staring at her too much.

“Your waiter will be right with you,” she clucked, staring directly at Sloane.

“Thank you,” Tom said, giving a friendly smile to the hostess. She nodded, walking away with her cheeks burning red.

Sloane scanned the menu, biting off a piece of the breadstick she grabbed from the basket in the middle of the table. Her eyes darted over every item and every picture. She couldn’t have been aware that her tongue was peeking out from between her lips, something she often did when she was concentrating. Her tight, brown curls spilled just over her shoulders. It was one of Tom’s favorite things to mess with, her curls. They wound so tightly that pulling on it and letting it go made it jump back into place…and they were always so soft, the kind of soft that was sort of mesmerizing.

She looked up from the menu, an eyebrow raised. “Whatchya staring at?” Sloane asked, innocent as can be.

Tom came back to reality, smiling innocently at her. “Hmm. Why?”

Sloane set the menu down, resting her arms on the table. “You were staring at me with this…” She swirled a finger around her face. “…this far-off, detached happy look on your face.”

He shrugged. “Well, you can’t very well blame me for liking to look at you, love,” he praised. “You just have a very stare-able face.”

“I’m not exactly sure what that means, but okay.” Sloane was smiling, shaking her head when she picked the menu up again.

The waiter came up to the table then, introducing himself as Robbie and doing a double take when he looked up from his notepad to ask if they wanted anything to drink. He looked like he wanted to say something to Tom and it was killing him not to. Tom was thankful he didn’t. Robbie just took down their order — beer for him, water for her — and walked away with a silly smile on his face.

Sloane let out a sigh. “I was worried there for a second.” She didn’t have to say why. Tom knew. He just wished it would stop coming up. But it wouldn’t. He knew that, too.

Tom went back to watching Sloane as she talked, still munching on her breadstick. As she told her story, something about her parents’ ski trip in Europe, she used the bread to gesture wildly. There was no doubt in his mind that she didn’t realize how big her hand gestures were, and it made him smile. He pulled out his phone.

“—and now, all I can do is think about my dad tumbling down a mountain, and every time I do I can’t help but — what are you doing?”

Tom’s smile grew when he took the picture. He had caught her just before Sloane realized what he was doing. She had the half-eaten breadstick in her hand, her other dragged through her hair. She had a curious smile on her face, right before the realization hit her eyes. She looked…positively radiant.

“Tom!” Sloane reached over the table to try to get his phone, but he blocked her hand just in time, pulling back so she couldn’t reach. “Tom, that’s not fair! I wasn’t paying attention!”

Tom pulled up Instagram, furiously typing a caption in and tagging Sloane before posting the picture. When Sloane’s phone buzzed on the table, she looked down at her phone. She looked up at him with squinted eyes.

“Oh, you didn’t.”

“Oh, I did.”

Robbie came back with their drinks right as Sloane grabbed her phone off the table, glaring at Tom but obviously trying not to grin.

“So,” Robbie said, notepad and pen at the ready, “have you guys figured out what you wanted?”

“Crazy breadstick lady, heart emoji? Really?”

“…I’m sorry?”

Sloane looked up at the poor, confused waiter, suddenly becoming aware of his presence. “Oh, sorry, not…I wasn’t talking to…um, sorry, can I have the Hawaiian sriracha shrimp?”

“Of course, and for you, sir?”

Tom flustered a bit, having not even looked at the menu since they sat down, and picked the first thing his eyes landed on — a mushroom garden burger. To say he immediately and adamantly regretted the choice would be an understatement. Tom was far from vegetarian and was more than slightly opposed to mushrooms on any given day. Sloane raised her eyebrows at him when he said it out loud. Even Robbie the Waiter looked at him funny for a moment before writing it down.

“Just, um…trying something new, I guess.” At least it came with fries…?

Robbie the Waiter took their menus and left with an “alrighty then.”

“You are just…so weird right now,” Sloane said, taking another bite of the breadstick. “Crazy breadstick lady and now a mushroom garden burger?”

Tom shrugged. “Well, one, you are a crazy breadstick lady, Sloane,” he said, his smile meeting her glare. “And two, is it a crime to want to try something new?”

“Tom, you hate mushrooms.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And you’re very much not a vegetarian.”

“…mmhmm.”

Sloane pointed at him with the breadstick. “See? Weird.”

Tom chuckled. He glanced over her shoulder for a moment, his eyes wandering the restaurant, and caught the eye of a man wearing a red scarf. He was looking right at him and was unwavering with his stare after Tom caught him looking at them. Tom saw the man try to hide the camera from view, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Frustration welled up inside of him, but he had to tamper it down so Sloane wouldn’t see it on his face. Tom didn’t know what Sloane would do if she knew they had followed them into the restaurant, but he knew it wouldn’t be good. For anyone. The pang of guilt returned, twisting his stomach and almost ruining what little appetite he had. Sloane, ever the talker, didn’t even notice and continued the story about her dad tumbling down a mountain.

That is, until she heard the click.

She didn’t know where it came from. Sloane looked around the restaurant, eyebrows pinched. Tom reached for her hand, grabbing her attention. “Ignore them, Sloane.”

Sloane whipped her head around to meet Tom’s eyes. “Ignore them? How —”

“If we give them nothing to photograph, they’ll leave us alone. Just…” Tom sighed, glancing at the man in the red scarf. “Just pretend they’re not there. They’ll get bored at some point.”

Sloane let out a heavy breath, taking her hand from Tom’s and reaching for her water. “They never get bored, Tom.”

The man in the red scarf wasn’t shy of showing off his camera now. He held it up for everyone in the restaurant to see, snapping picture after picture. Some people at neighboring tables looked at the man before seeing who he was taking pictures of, pulling out their phones to take their own photos. He even dared to smirk at Tom from over Sloane’s shoulder. Tom wanted to believe he saw a forked tongue between those crooked teeth.

“I’ll be right back,” Tom said. “I see someone I haven’t talked to in a while.”

Tom didn’t wait for Sloane to say “okay” before getting up from the table, keeping his eyes on the man in the red scarf. The man raised a single eyebrow at Tom, continuing to take pictures of him as he stomped towards his table. Tom ignored the whispers from other tables. When Tom reached his table, the man left his camera in his lap, no doubt recording whatever conversation they were about to have. At this point, Tom didn’t care.

“Excuse me, sir,” Tom said in the calmest tone he could muster. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I can see you’re taking pictures of my girlfriend and me. We’ve had a lot of people take pictures of us today. Do you think you could let me eat dinner with her without you bothering us?”

The man adjusted the camera in his lap. “I’m sorry, Tom, but I’m not one of the people that have been taking pictures of you today, not until now.”

Tom attempted to ignore the fact that the man called him by his name as if he knew him at all. The nerve…“Okay, but I’m asking you to stop.” He crossed his arms.

“How long do you plan on staying in Seattle, Tom?”

Tom let the frustration play on his face. “Please, stop.”

“I’m assuming you’re staying at Sloane’s?”

“Please don’t talk about her.”

“I can guess you had…plans for this evening.”

Tom could feel red creeping up his neck. This man was making him angry. “Look, man, if you don’t leave us alone, I swear I’ll —”

“You’ll what?” the man asked, unfazed. “You’ll break my camera? Make a scene? I’m sure your girlfriend would just love that.”

Tom looked back at Sloane. She was turned all the way in her spot, confusion wringing her face. He could see her looking around, noticing all the people looking in their direction. What’s going on? she mouthed to him. Tom softened. He couldn’t, wouldn’t make a scene, not now. Tom turned back to the man.

“I’m asking nicely, man. Stop.”

The man raised his hands in defense. “Sorry. I’m just doing my job.”

If it wouldn’t have made a scene, Tom would have grabbed his camera and threw it on the floor. He could see himself doing it and knew just how good it would feel, how confident he would feel. But there was no way he could do it, as much as he wanted to.

So he walked away, his fists clenched so tightly he could feel the strain in his knuckles. Sloane was bitting her lip when he finally sat down, her focus trained on Tom. He kept his eyes on the man in the red scarf.

“Tom?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Tom, you can’t tell me not to worry about it,” Sloane said. “I’m going to worry about it. About you.”

Tom blinked at Sloane for a moment. “There’s nothing to worry about, really.” He kept his tone even, leaving to cause for Sloane to be worried. “I —”

“Ohmygod, you’re right!” a high-pitched voice rang. “It is him, ohmygod!”

A group of girls came running up to their table, all smiles and overeager eyes. They looked about high school aged and young enough to be more annoying than usual. The girls all spoke at once, their voices melting together into one high-pitched squeal as they came up to them with their phones asking for pictures. They got other people around them to notice the commotion, and they must have felt more inclined to come up to their table, too because soon their table was flanked by people with their cameras and phones and flashes and voices and noise and —

Sloane wasn’t sitting across from Tom anymore. He had no idea when she got up, when she decided it was too much, but she was gone. He stood up suddenly, having to push people out of his way just to get out of the booth. Tom looked toward the entrance, hoping to see Sloane standing there waiting for him or something, anything — the guilt was pressing so hard on his stomach he was positive he was going to throw up — but she wasn’t standing by the entrance. No, she was standing next to the man in the red scarf, talking to him. Sloane didn’t look like she wanted to be standing there, listening to him. Tom knew she was desperate to get out of that restaurant as fast as she could, but the man stopped her. He showed her something on his phone. Sloane looked Tom dead in the eye for a moment before scanning the faces of the dozens of people that were surrounding him, then started walking out the door.

Tom managed to maneuver himself out of the crowd of people only to run into Robbie the Waiter with their dinner, the food and dishes landing on the tile floor with a hard crash. People gasped behind Tom.

“I am so sorry,” Tom said, bending down to help Robbie pick up the broken dishes.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” he reassured. “It happens more often than you think.” Tom started to pull out money from his wallet, but Robbie stopped him. “It’s fine, you just get away from these vultures.”

Tom gave him a thankful nod before getting back on his feet and running towards the door. When he made it out of the packed restaurant, he was hit by cold, dry Seattle winter air. He pulled his jacket closer to his body, scouring the street before seeing a cloud of curly black get into the passenger side of her car. He jogged over, eager to get to Sloane to apologize — and to get into a warm car — and to get her home. Tom knew all she wanted to do was to get home, away from people. Probably away from him, too.

Sloane sat as close to the door as she possibly could when Tom sat down in the driver’s seat of the car, avoiding looking at him and deciding instead to look at her hands. Tom couldn’t tell if she was angry or upset or both.

“Sloane?” She didn’t look at him or give any signs that she even heard him. Tom turned himself in his seat so he was facing her. He wanted desperately wanted to reach out and touch her, but he knew if he did she’d squirm away. “Sloane, I am so sorry. I’m beyond sorry. I can’t explain to you how sorry I am —”

“Stop, just stop,” Sloane whispered.

“I don’t want you to think that you come second, Sloane, because you don’t. And I wish none of that could have happened because —”

“I said stop, Tom,” she said, a bit harsher than before. “I don’t really want to talk right now.”

They sat in silence the entire way back to Sloane’s apartment. Every now and then Tom would glance over at her to see her looking out the window or looking at nothing at all. At a stop light, Tom noticed Sloane scrolling through the comment section of his post, scouring through every word and linger on those that weren’t…well, those that weren’t very nice, to say the least.

Tom hated when she did that, which luckily wasn’t often. There were too many fan accounts on Instagram that commented terrible things about Sloane on his posts, even if she wasn’t in the picture. It became too tedious to try and block every account that said a bad word about his girl, so he stopped long before, attempting to indirectly tell people to stop in his captions. Of course, they never really stopped. Tonight seemed to be worse than usual.

Most of the time, Sloane didn’t notice or didn’t care what people commented on Tom’s posts. There were too many to read, and most of the time it was pointless trying to read all the hateful comments people left just to get her feelings hurt. Apparently, though, Sloane was in the mood to get her feelings hurt.

Tom wanted to do something to make up for the past two days. The only moment of peace they were able to have was the first day Tom was in Seattle, the day he spent mostly sleeping. He ran different options in his head, thinking over what would make Sloane happy. For some reason, “ski” kept popping up in his head.

If life worked like a bad Saturday morning cartoon, a lightbulb would have appeared and lit up above Tom’s head. At the next stoplight, Tom pulled out his phone and texted an old friend for a favor. He responded almost immediately with the answer Tom was hoping for.

As soon as Tom put the car in park, Sloane unbuckled herself and jumped out the car faster than Tom could comprehend it. She was still upset, no doubt, stomping off into the building and unlocking her apartment door. Tom tread in behind her, feeling lighter than before and much more sure of himself.

Sloane had plopped herself on the couch, her arm thrown over her eyes. Tom went to the kitchen and filled a glass of water, setting it down on the side table close to her head. She didn’t say anything, and neither did he, despite the smile on his face. Tom walked into Sloane’s bedroom, grabbing his suitcase and backpack from next to her dresser and wheeling it outside. Sloane uncovered her eyes, watching Tom come in and out of the bedroom.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked, sitting up on her elbows to get a better look at him. “I’m upset, Tom, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay in some hotel or something.”

Tom took more of his stuff out of the bedroom, stuffing his computer and a couple of books into his backpack. “I’m not,” he said cryptically.

Sloane cocked an eyebrow. “Then what are you doing?” He didn’t respond, instead speed-walking into the bedroom closet to find Sloane’s suitcase. “Tom?”

“Where’s your passport?” Tom called from the other room.

“My…my passport?” Tom could hear Sloane slide off the couch. “Why the hell are you looking for my passport, exactly?”

Sloane stood in the doorway of her room, leaning against the frame. Tom smiled at her, pushing her bright yellow suitcase out of the closet. “We are going on a trip,” he said, “away from as many fans and cameras and evil paparazzi guys in red scarfs as we can for as long as we can.” Tom sat down at the end of Sloane’s bed, heaving the suitcase in front of the dresser. “How does that sound?”

Tom could see a slight smile forming on Sloane’s lips at the mere idea of it, but crossed her arms. “Details, Tom. I need details.”

That was something, at the very least. “My mum and dad have this old friend they keep in touch with every now and again,” Tom started, getting a bit excited. “I think he’s a professor or something…professor of what, I’m not exactly sure, but —”

Sloane laughed a bit. “Tom, too many details.”

“Right. Okay, well, his son Will and I were pretty close growing up, and their family is pretty well off, so they have a ton of vacation homes all over the place — including on Whistler.”

“Whistler…as in Whistler Mountain in Canada?”

Tom nodded. “I’ve been there a couple of times, it’s really nice. It’s a cabin not too far up the mountain, but far enough where you can get some good skiing in, plus there are some amazing views from up there. It’s not too big, but it’s also not a shoebox. There’s an electric fireplace and a jacuzzi in the back…where was I going with this?” He snapped his fingers. “Right! So, I texted Will just now, and he said that nobody’s at the cabin and they’re not renting it out, so we have full reign over it until they basically kick us out!”

Sloane slowly uncrossed her arms, taking in every piece of information that spilled from Tom’s lips bit by bit. “Wait, so you’re not joking?” she asked. “You mean this? You're not just an ass to get on my nerves? You actually want to take me to a secluded cabin in the woods on a mountain in a different country?”

Tom shifted a bit. “Well, when you put it like that, you make me sound like some kind of serial killer or somethi—”

Sloane jumped at Tom — well, more like pounced — making him fall back onto the bed. She straddled his hips, leaning down to kiss every inch of his face. All Tom could do was laugh and enjoy Sloane’s sudden change in mood.

They sat up, Tom keeping his arms wrapped around her waist. Sloane took Tom’s face in her hands and laid a soft kiss on his lips. When she pulled away, she slugged him right in the shoulder.

“Hey!”

“I’m still mad, Thomas Holland,” Sloane mumbled. “But…this may make me a little less mad.”

Tom pushed the curls from Sloane’s face. “So you wanna go?”

“Of course I wanna go, Tom, are you kidding? Imagine the kinds of pictures I can get…not to mention, it’s going to be cold which means a lot of you and me time.”

“Exactly what I was thinking, love.” Tom kissed the tip of her nose. He was sure Sloane could feel the smile on his lips. “So…do you want to head out now or…?”

“Absolutely not!” Sloane exclaimed. “It has been a long day. I need to sleep in my bed and not in the car, and I refuse to let you drive four hours across the border and up a mountain right now. So we will leave in the morning.”

Tom nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Sloane moved off of Tom and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. Tom fell back on the bed again, that wonderful feeling of relief swimming through his veins. They would have to talk about what happened, Tom knew that, but at the very least Sloane wasn’t keeping her mind on the bad — at least, Tom hoped.

By the time Sloane came out of the shower and was ready for bed, Tom was fast asleep on her bed, right on top of the sheets fully clothed with his signature smile lingering on his lips.

TAGGING SOME BEAUTIFUL MUTUALS @notimeforthemessenger , @gottaletgopete , @idektomholland , @holyheckholland, @yoinksholland , @racing-faster , @starksparker , @starkravingparker , @holland-ish, @hollandlovely

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland moodboard #tom holland one shots #tom holland au #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #?

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pinknerdpanda · 7 years

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Heaven Sent - Part 2

Word Count: 1,607

Characters: Y/n, Castiel, Dean, Sam (Mentioned)

Warnings: Snark, Heaven-Induced Insanity, Language, Angst if you squint

A/N: This is Part 2 of a mini-series I wrote for @ellen-reincarnated1967’s “Andi’s Back in the Game” challenge. Beta’d by @hannahindie and @wheresthekillswitch who also helped me to brainstorm and nail down exactly where I wanted to go. Thank you both so very much!

A/N 2: This takes place roughly midway through Season 4

Tags are at the bottom - please send me an ASK if you would like to be added (or removed).

Need to Catch up? - Series Masterlist

Heaven Sent Part 2

Dean

“What can I getcha, handsome?” the cute, red-headed bartender winks as she calls from across the wooden bar where I’ve just planted my ass for the the foreseeable future.

“Whiskey. Double,” I mumble just over the hum of noise filling the small bar. “And a beer,” I amend my order. “Please.”

“Coming right up!” She grins as she turns and stretches an arm to grab the bottle on the highest shelf. Try as I might, I can’t seem to ignore the golden patch of exposed flesh now peeking at me from above the waistband of her jeans as she strains for the liquor. Just as I’m beginning to make out the bottom half of what looks to be a small, simple flower tattoo, she cheers triumphantly and turns back around, bottle in hand to pour my drink.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” I smile at her and take a swig before glancing back up to lay on the charm, but she’s gone. Figures.

I swallow the rest of my whiskey before palming my beer and heading toward one of the pool tables. Maybe I can at least scrounge up a little cash before we hit the road again. Just as I pass the end of the bar, a man with scraggly, gray hair and who looks like he’s started to take root here slumps backward on his stool in front of me. Before I can react, he lurches forward again. Confused, I look back toward the bar to find a pretty woman, at least 30 years younger than him, perched on the seat next to him. One hand clutching his shoulder, holding him in place and the other wrapped around a tumbler of golden liquid. She freezes, glass in midair, her lips forming a perfect, pretty ‘o’ as our eyes lock.

“Nice catch,” I mumble, shaking my head. I throw one last glance back at the woman before continuing toward the back of the bar. Seeing that she hasn’t moved a fraction of an inch makes me chuckle.

The next few hours are a bit hazy as the beer bottles pile up on the table next to me. This town is too easy; it’s like shooting fish in a barrel. Sometimes I almost feel guilty for taking these poor bastards’ money - almost.

“I call next,” a voice that sounds like velvet and a lifetime of bad decisions carries over the conversations around me. I turn around to find the girl from earlier standing a few feet from me. She’s stroking the tip of the pool cue lightly and her eyes rake me over a time or two. Son of a bitch.

“Table’s all yours. I was just about to head back to my hotel,” I raise an eyebrow and grin at her. “Unless you’d like to join me. I’m sure we could think of some games we could play.”

“So it’s fine for you to cheat those men out of their money, but mine’s no good?” Her eyes are like fire and I am having a hard time interpreting the rage in them.

“No, sweetheart. It’s not that, it’s just…” I study her for a moment. “Do I know you?”

“My name’s y/n, not sweetheart. If you’re just afraid to have your ass handed to you by a girl, well, I mean...I wouldn’t blame you,” she plants her free hand on her hip, her fingers ball into a tight fist, but her eyes have lightened slightly.

“Ok fine, have it your way, y/n,” I quickly reset the table and gestured toward it with a stupid little bow. What the hell is my problem? “Ladies first.”

I don’t miss the eyeroll she gives me, but she says nothing as she steps up and lines up her first shot. It all happens so fast, one minute I’m appreciating the curve of her shoulders and back as she bends over the table and the next I’m watching helplessly as she darts around the table, sinking shot after shot.

“Eight ball, left side pocket,” she winks at me. She can’t...she can’t wink at me! That’s my thing.

The sound of the ball landing in the soft, velvety lining of the left side pocket is drowned out by her loud cheering. I have never been so pissed off and so turned on at the same time. It’s all very confusing. I start to pull the wad of cash I’d accumulated from my evening’s efforts and she laughs.

“How about you show me your hotel room and we can call it even, hotrod?”

I throw a $50 bill down beside the mountain of empty bottles and practically sprint toward y/n’s swaying and rapidly retreating hips.

In my excitement, I hadn’t really considered the possibility that Sam may still be holed up in the hotel room, trying to figure out a way to keep Lilith from breaking the last of the 66 seals. I hold my breath as the door creaks open, but there’s no sign of my enormous little brother.

“Mind if I use your restroom?” She smiles warmly as she enters the room. I nod dumbly but she’s already moving in that direction.

As soon as the door closes behind her I start pacing, trying to give myself a little “You got this, man. It’s ok that she killed you at pool,” pep talk.

“Hello, Dean.”

I practically jump out of my skin and whirl to find no-one’s favorite trenchcoated angel standing awkwardly behind the door of the hotel room. “What the hell, Cas? How long have you been standing there?”

“Since you were trying to convince yourself that your masculinity is not defined by your inability to win a game of billiards against a woman,” he squints at me and I can see him fighting to keep the smile from his mouth. Asshat.

“Are you just here to cockblock me, or do you actually have a purpose?”

“Where is your brother? I was hoping that I could speak to you both at…” the sound of the bathroom door interrupts him and he glances over my shoulder. The look on his face is one I’m not sure I understand. It’s like he’s relieved, confused and terrified all at the same time. “Y/n?”

I glance between the two of them. The rage I’d seen in her eyes earlier is back, but stronger somehow.

“Of course. Of course it’s you, Castiel,” she crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head so far to one side it looks like her neck could break. “I should have known you were behind this.”

“I thought you were dead, y/n,” Cas’ voice is barely above a whisper. “They said that your cell was…” his words trail off.

“Oh, is that what they think?!” She laughs and the sound is...I can only describe it as maniacal. “I wondered why no one came to look for me.”

“Will one of you two please tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Shut up, Dean,” she barks as she brushes past me roughly to stand toe-to-toe with Cas. “So this is what all that chatter was about. What did you do, rally the troops and spring ol’ Hound Chow over here,” she throws a thumb over her shoulder in my direction. “From the bounds of Hell?”

Cas stares at her silently as her words sink in.

“Wait are you an ang…”

“Shut up, Dean,” neither of them look at me as they say it unison.

“Why are you here,” Cas studies her, disbelief still marring his face.

She cranes her neck to look into his eyes. “Funny story, I was just enjoying a drink, contemplating my life choices and trying to keep Jasper from falling off his stool and getting hurt again...you know me, old habits die hard. Occupational hazards and all...anyway...when who to my wondering eyes did appear? This asshole in all his leather and flannel glory. I was sure I was dreaming or dead or something, but I’d followed him around for long enough, it was easy to figure out it was the real Dean Winchester. The only question was how?”

“I had my orders, y/n.”

“Right. Of course. Your orders,” she nods. “That’s why you didn’t come to visit.” It’s not a question. Her voice is low and colder than ice. Cas looks away.

“You know I went insane in there, right? Did they tell you that? And this asshole,” she jerks a thumb at me again, “is the reason I was there in the first place. And now he gets to wander the Earth and live life hustling pool and screwing barflies, but I was left to rot in that cell for who knows how long. Tell me again who’s getting their fair share of punishment, Castiel.”

“I am sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” She chuckles. “I doubt that.”

From the corner of my eye I can see her right hand jerk a second before a long, pointed silver blade slides into her palm. Without thinking, I rush toward them, but Cas has already stripped her of her blade and spun, pinning her to the wall. I grab the blade from the floor, gripping it tightly in one hand and appreciating the balance and weight.

“Everyone just calm down, and I swear to Whoever’s calling plays up there, if you tell me to shut up one more time, I will stab you,” I flick the end of it between them. Cas nods and releases y/n, but doesn’t step back. “Now, y/n. Who the hell are you and why do you keep calling me an asshole?”

Read Part 3 HERE

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

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Heaven Sent Tags: @peppermint--teas @night-thinker-23 @lavieenlex @mariahoedt

#andi'sbackinthegame #andi'swritingchallenge #Dean Angst #Dean Winchester #SPN Fanfiction #SPN Fanfic #SPN Fanfic Pond #Guppy Fic #Panda Writes #Cas Angst #Castiel Angst #Castiel #Cas #heaven sent

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writerspink · 8 years

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Basic Topics

Food

cook bread cake pie noodles pasta eggs meat milk cheese oil chocolate chips cookies crackers treats snacks muffin rolls biscuit cupcake brownies bagel biscotti French fries sandwich hamburger salad meatloaf breakfast lunch super dinner snack fruit juice soda pop tea coffee wine beer

Outdoors

snow rain wind sunny cloudy tornado hurricane hail ice freeze thaw hot cold earthquake sand mud dirt dust mountain river lake sea ocean valley plain field park sidewalk fresh air camping campfire barbecue picnick

Animals

cow donkey horse rabbit dragonfly deer squid kangaroo bear wolf chipmunk squirrel dog fox cat pheasant brontosaurus mouse eagle clam parrot crow duck cricket swan housefly pterodactyl goose chicken oyster turkey sheep goat hummingbird raptor owl eel hornet zebra bird mosquito whale cougar shrimp elephant lion bee pigeon gazelle cheetah hippopotamus fish tiger gecko grasshopper rhinoceros walrus octopus otter spider jellyfish penguin falcon snake rat crab leopard T-Rex dolphin orca lizard shark hawk giraffe dinosaur starfish snail

Clothes

hat gloves scarf coat trench coat rain coat umbrella shirt pants shorts underwear vest sweater sweat shirt sweat pants sweat suit jogging suit boots shoes sandles slippers swimming suit suit dress skirt blouse hood hoodie fedora flat cap fedora polo shirt dress shirt T-shirt tank top muscle shirt blazer tuxedo cufflinks necklace bracelet earring

Home

house garage workshop window door screen wall floor ceiling kitchen bathroom living room bedroom window door garbage trash can clean wash rinse mob broom washcloth sink shower bath soap toilet toothbrush towel curtain bed blanket pillow bed sheets table chair bench knife fork spoon plate cup bowl water glass bottle cutting board rolling pin toaster blender stove oven fry pan wok pot kettle baking sheet crock pot coffee maker dish washer refrigerator freezer cellar pantry cupboard counter top cabinet closet toybox chest wardrobe vanity coat rack stand sofa couch love seat coffee table footstool ottoman recliner

Office & School

desk computer phone tablet printer clock watch memo note pencil pen ink eraser glue paper clip stapler rubber band sharpen dull shavings shred ruler protractor compass classroom pencil holder calendar pin board thumb tack desk lamp board room whiteboard blackboard conference table manager supervisor teacher principal team & teammates classmates employee student project assignment study work learn correct edit fix repair update upgrade install enroll graduate finish late on time communicate network energy electricity announcement speakers PA system (public announcement) public private corporation company school district industrial park factory building commerce money market

Roads

car truck motorcycle semi truck pickup truck sport car sedan coup scooter dirt bike bicycle BMX bike skates skateboard helmet seat belt air bag crash collision fender bender ticket parking lot speed limit lane highway onramp expressway freeway toll road bridge overpass underpass train tracks railroad train station bus stop yield distance limousine chauffeur driver taxi tour guide travel

Farm & Garden

barn tractor trailer crops harvest irrigation pesticide herbicide weed-killer fertilizer lawn mower bumper crop hay loft straw alfalfa pasture horse fence gate work gloves planting watering weeding trimming trowel plow hoe rake shovel pruning shears hedge trimmer watering can hose hose butler hose reel hose trolley spigot nozzle sprinkler turret sprinkler spray gun rain barrel rain gauge wood chips seeds blossom pollen silo grainery grain elevator cheesecloth cheese curd dairy butcher cellar canned vegetables frost dew perennial annual tulip bulb rose garden walled garden shrubbery

Sports

baseball basketball football soccer lacrosse golf tennis badminton swimming hockey bat glove mitt hoop basket net goal cleats shin guards pads jersey baseball cap court racket pool referee coach team manager stadium arena referee guard forward pitcher catcher offense defense goalie umpire puck penalty disc frisbee quarterback fowl pitch tee-off green rough course field flag boundary out of bounds clock period inning half quarter round match set play (a football play) line sponsor spectator stands bleachers nose-bleed section admission season playoffs tickets finals halftime

Music

piano clarinet oboe bassoon saxophone French horn trumpet trombone tuba flute percussion drum snare tympani bell chimes harp synthesizer instrument sampling director symphony orchestra band marching band parade color guard cadence harmony melody counter melody solo duet quartet march concerto composer tempo beat dynamics volume drum major field commander captain genre jazz blues pop rock n’ roll big band dixieland waltz tango alternative boogie woogie ragtime classical baroque romance medieval pentatonic scale Major minor harmonic

Cyberspace

computer monitor tablet stylus writing tablet touchscreen smartphone mouse keyboard battery power cord cable display desktop wallpaper firmware software application (app) app store runtime environment operating system kernel motherboard integrated circuit transistor processor processor core central processing unit (CPU) graphics processing unit (GPU) random access memory (RAM) read only memory (ROM) user account website profile page Internet web page homepage dependency software stack markup language scripting language cascading style sheet (CSS) hypertext markup language (HTML) database structured query language (SQL) universal resource identifier (URI) (https://write.pink/vocab) universal resource locator (URL) (https://write.pink) web address texting global positioning system (GPS) geolocation temp file directory structure file system email web application blog (weblog) content management system (CMS) human resource management (HRM) customer relations management (CRM) enterprise resource planning (ERP) personal information management (PIM) words per minute (WPM) social media multimedia terminal command line console client server client side language server side language legacy version version history product road map scope creep bug report feature request install update upgrade beta security malware virus spyware cookie meta data content menu navigation heading header footer article post tag search engine web crawler contacts share embed log error message runlevel priority foreground background radio select checkbox dropdown select text field encrypt certificate session web browser desktop application email client

Hospitality

reservation checkin checkout key deposit hotel motel hostel resort bead & breakfast cruise ship country club waiter waitress server maître d’hôtel concierge host butler bus boy bell hop kitchen crew dish crew chef assistant menu chef’s surprise soup of the day cup of joe appetizer soup & salad main course side dish dessert bread basket pitcher order make ticket make line make table make time delivery time serving tray goblet water glass pilsner glass martini glass shot glass wine glass soda fountain on tap deli deli cut tip / gratuity buffet all you can eat take out doggy bag delivery refill silverware napkin place setting cost per plate guest linens dining room floor bedding double bed queen size bed king size bed twin beds room service wake up call bar bar stool high boy bartender barista clerk open shop close shop “we’re all out” first in first out first in last out last in first out cost of sales five star three star

Travel

navigation driving directions baggage luggage carry-on hand-baggage check in checked baggage baggage claim ticket pass boarding pass departure arrival departure time travel time arrival time estimated time of departure (ETD) estimated time of arrival (ETA) delay on time commute journey embark boarding disembark boarding gate departure gate time table service counter first class business class economy class premium economy frequent flier membership card priority boarding priority seating lounge pass call button flotation device evacuation instructions bulkhead cabin wings air pressure altitude tunnel crash landing splash landing touchdown splashdown turbulence in-flight meal in-flight entertainment airplane mode stow dinner tray reading lamp climate control overhead compartment seat number isle seat window seat dining car sleeper car truck stop weigh station fuel station gas station petrol station passengers crew captain pilot copilot navigator conductor flight attendant helm deck terminal dock ferry plane ship airline cruise ship train bus subway space shuttle transporter beam flying saucer teleportation warp drive hyperdrive hyperspace supersonic lightspeed nautical mile time zone

Dinning Out

Dress

“dressy” festive casual jeans and tie dress pants and tie suit and tie three piece suit dress shirt nice shirt nice T shirt old shirt old T shirt jeans nice jeans rockstar jeans stone washed jeans blazer vest dress short nice shorts jean shorts skirt blouse dress high heels dress shoes slippers loafers sandals sneakers casual shoes [sport] shoes wingtip shoes

orange soda grape soda red soda cola Dr. Pepper lemon lime root beer ginger ale cream soda bread basket sub sandwich fruit platter cole slaw burrito taco nachos melon lemonade snacks popcorn hot dog chips

Camping

camper trailer mobile home campfire fire pit firewood kindling starter fluid charcoal coals ashes marshmallow s’mores graham crackers hot dog roast hot dog bun condiments relish ketchup mustard paper plate disposable silverware tin foil dinner wrap foil wrapped dinner grill barbecue cookout roasting stick campground toiletries bath house dump station park service park ranger national park state park county park city park recreation off road vehicle recreational vehicle speed boat water skiing wake boarding beach sand dune mountain climbing hiking walking stick mosquito net insect repellent tent tarp AstroTurf picnic table lawn chairs lantern kerosene sing-along

Construction

scaffold nails hammer sledgehammer jackhammer allen wrench screws screwdriver torques head Phillips head straight edge concrete flexcrete cement mortar bricks foundation chimbney threshold partition fire escape story loft lean-to foundation basement construction crew construction site building code building permit detour road construction earth moving equipment shovel rake bulldozer backhoe dumptruck studds drywall log cabin blueprints I-beam welding molding trim work framing carpeting tiling tile floor grout trowel hardhat work gloves safety glasses safety goggles face mask plaster paintbrush pain roller paint can paint can opener paint thinner wallpaper window frame door frame hinge deadbolt lock electric outlet breaker switch breaker box fuse box pluming faucet pipe drain septic tank septic system drain field landscaping survey crew land surveying acre shelf awning tarp fence rebar power grid power lines power transformer electrical pole wiring linoleum formica veneer lumber particle board plywood sandpaper palm sander belt sander saw horse table saw band saw jig saw radial arm saw drill press lathe C-clamp wood glue wood putty wood stain varnish lacquer

Basic Topics was originally published on PinkWrite

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miamibeerscene · 7 years

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3 Stories Behind Athlete-Inspired Breweries

Caitlin Landesberg is a distance runner and founder of Sufferfest Brewing. (Credit: Sufferfest)

June 20, 2017

Brewing beer isn’t easy. You study. You practice. You make mistakes. You practice more. You take notes and you take advice. Eventually, you get better.

Runners, cyclists and swimmers are wired that same way: They set goals. They train. They have setbacks. There are races that go wrong, and some that go right.

When you realize the similarities between the two, it makes total sense that people who are driven on a race course would be drawn to brewing.

And the similarities go beyond personality traits. The founders of Ghost Runners, Sufferfest and Headlands Brewing know that both sports and craft beer bring people together — and that’s exactly what they’re looking to accomplish.

(LEARN: CraftBeer.com’s Big List of Beer Schools)

Sufferfest: A Health Scare Leads to Brewing Beer

Caitlin Landesberg learned those technical aspects when a health issue led her to homebrewing. That hobby became what’s now a successful business.

Landesberg was a college tennis player and remains an avid runner. She’s always eaten well and stayed in good shape, but about five years ago, she started feeling lousy. Her hair fell out. She had migraines. She had ulcers.

“I was really sort of discombobulated,” she says. She didn’t know why she felt so bad.

Landesberg was running an overnight leg during an ultra relay race when she was rushed to the hospital. Doctors discovered she had a thyroid deficiency likely caused by a food allergy.

Caitlin started brewing after a health scare. (Credit: Sufferfest Beer Co.)

After eliminating various things from her diet — dairy, caffeine, sugar — Landesberg removed gluten and started seeing changes.

Within 10 days, her health problems were going away, she says. “It was like I was superhuman.”

Accustomed to finishing a trail race and filling her commemorative glass with the local beer, Landesberg began bringing gluten-free beer to events. But none of them were quite the flavors she was looking for.

So Landesberg, after receiving the gift of brewing lessons from her husband, Stuart, started homebrewing.

It began as a “selfish” act, she says. “I wanted to drink the same beer as everybody else.”

“Sufferfest was never really supposed to be anything,” Landesberg tells us. “This was a happy accident. This was a hobby that turned into a glorified hobby.”

Two years ago, she sat down with her husband and decided to make a go at turning that hobby into a real business. Landesberg says she’d realized, “If I don’t scratch this itch, I will always be itching.”

Landesberg had always worked in high-tech product and brand marketing. She knew brewing beer wasn’t her core skill set, but tells us her competitive nature pushed her to keep making better beer.

Eventually, Landesberg passed out her gluten-removed beer to friends, family and even top runners she respected. She wouldn’t mention it was different than other beer. She says it was an awesome feeling to watch them drink it — and like it — without realizing it was gluten-removed.

They’d give it a year, the Landesbergs decided, and Sufferfest shipped its first beers in March 2016.

Now, Suffferfest distributes its Taper IPA, Summit Blonde and Epic Pilsner to about 340 placements in California, from Lake Tahoe to Los Angeles.

(LEARN: 75+ Popular Craft Beer Styles)

The name of her company developed organically. Landesberg had always called beer “sufferfest,” a word that refers to the suffering endurance athletes experience during an event, as well as the sense of camaraderie afterward.

Milestones and personal experiences often tie into Landesberg’s beers: She created Epic for her wedding; An injury inspired Taper.

“If I don’t scratch this itch, I will always be itching.” ~Caitlin Landesberg, Sufferfest Beer Co. Founder

Earlier this year she gave birth to her baby girl, Frances. Soon after, she, “wanted the beer that’s going to get me out of this postpartum body and back in shape.”

She envisioned which beer would be in her hand after that first big run, on a hot, sunny day, “when you’re just dripping sweat,” she says. The answer was the Summit Blonde.

“We’re an outdoor brand that loves our beer,” Landesberg says.

At first, she was worried that mindset might be the company’s biggest disadvantage. But it’s “become something that’s defined us,” she says.

Ghost Runners: An “Out-of-Body Experience”

Like Landesberg, Jeff Seibel has long viewed beer as his reward at the end of a run or workout. He and his wife Amy own Ghost Runners Brewery in Vancouver, Washington. They started it in 2012 in a backyard shed.

Amy and Jeff Seibel at Ghost Runners Brewery in Washington state. (Credit: Ghost Runners Brewery)

Jeff Seibel got into running after watching Amy compete in a Muddy Buddy ride and run 10K relay. The next year, he and Amy joined forces in the event and placed second in their age group. That race hooked him for good.

The name of the brewery itself refers to that “kind of out-of-body experience on an eight- or 10-mile run where … you can do it forever,” Seibel says.

It’s not just runners who can relate. He says all athletes — “whether you’re a swimmer or climb Mount Hood.”

That first year, Ghost Runners self-distributed to six or seven local restaurants and bars.

(READ: Craft Beer Bars That Changed Their City’s Beer Scene)

“They kept buying and rebuying and rebuying,” Seibel says.

In 2015, Ghost Runners purchased its current digs, a 10-barrel brewing facility with a tasting room in an industrial park between two freeways in the middle of Vancouver.

“Not a lot of cool things to see when you’re running out here,” Seibel says. “That’s why the attraction of the Waterfront to us was highly important.”

Seibel is referring to the company’s second location, a brewpub set to open next spring or summer as part of The Waterfront Vancouver, the city’s estimated $1.5-billion, 32-acre development along the Columbia River.

Two runners after Ghost Runners annual 5K, where racers wear costumes. (Credit: Ghost Runners Brewery)

Seibel said the brewpub will be “casual, family friendly, laid back.” He expects its proximity to local running groups and its outdoor seating to attract runners.

(COOK WITH BEER: 5 Cookie Recipes That Use Beer)

Ghost Runners’s beers have running-themed names as well, including Running Up Pils, the Out ‘N Back Amber, 5K IPA and the Pre-HOPtaine.

The brewery used to have an imperial stout called Fartlek, a term for a training method that involves alternating periods of faster running with slower running. That beer met with questions — “What the heck is a fartlek?” — and Ghost Runners’s own bartenders and servers didn’t want to say the name. (The Seibels have since changed the name to Strong Leg.)

Seibel said the new brewpub will be the perfect place to experiment with wild beers.

Headlands: Adrenaline Junkies Open a Brewery

Phil Cutti and Patrick Horn are no strangers to adventure. And they say a lot of those adventures either begin or end with a beer.

Cutti and Horn are the co-founders of California’s Headlands Brewing Company. They originally met through homebrewing and open water endurance swimming, and then launched the brewery in July 2014.

Cutti has long been a member of Night Train Swimmers, a group that raises money for charity by completing what it calls “unprecedented” and record-setting swims. Cutti had joined the group when a broken back waylaid his running (triathlons, marathons and ultrarunning) and he turned to swimming to “feel human again.”

When Horn’s wife, Laura, joined Night Train Swimmers, Horn began serving as co-captain on the boat for some swims.

Headlands Brewery co-founder Phil Cutti during a swim. (Credit: Headlands Brewing)

“We just had a really strong relationship built out of that,” Cutti says. The two figured if they could survive those swims, they could handle being in business together.

“It kind of fortified our relationship and also the ethos of the company,” Cutti says. “We’re a lifestyle beer brand that goes out and does conservancy work.”

Horn recalls one night at dusk when he was driving the boat while Cutti was swimming.

“I look back over the stern and see this fin pop up,” Horn recalls. The shark started trailing the boat. Horn had somebody else grab the wheel. “And I head back toward the stern. Of course, we have not told Phil this,” Horn says. “Phil does not need to know that there’s teeth about 20 yards behind him.”

The shark got even closer before the noise of the diesel engine scared it away.

And Cutti recalls being in the water as the sun was setting – prime feeding time, and watching large numbers of jellyfish come to the surface.

(MORE: 6 Vegan-Friendly Brew Pubs)

“It’s uncanny how many times that you’re trying to avoid this thing and they hit you smack in the ribs,” Cutti says. “And it is literally like being shocked.”

Once Horn and Cutti launched Headlands, they would have what Horn calls “little strategy sessions (on the boat) in the middle of total chaos.”

Headlands has four core beers that it distributes mainly throughout the greater Bay Area, and Cutti and Horn rotate seasonal brews in throughout the year. The beers carry names that evoke the region Cutti and Horn call home: Wolfback Ridge, Hill 88, Pt. Bonita and Hawk Hill.

Headlands Brewing sponsors local events like beach and trail clean ups. They also support organizations including the San Francisco Baykeeper, Shark Stewards and the Pints for Prostates campaign.

“We want to be known as a good steward of the community,” Horn says.

Mackenzie White

When not writing, you can find Mackenzie chasing after her two boys, often with a camera in hand, running long distances or camping and canoeing with her family. She’s looking forward to enjoying s’mores and farmhouse ales around the campfire this summer. Read more by this author

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#3 Stories Behind Athlete-Inspired Breweries

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