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dcbbw · 5 years

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(last one, I promise!) Rachel prompt 28 - I'm alone and I just bought $15 in candy bars. What do you think?

Thanks so much for the ask, @zaffrenotes! I am using the DC Crew for this full-blown fic; in the first chapter of Aftermath of a Breakup, the gang did not see each other over the Christmas Break. This is what they were doing instead of hanging out……

Prompt is in bold. Please excuse any typos and/or grammatical errors.

All characters belong to Pixelberry except Alyssa Devereaux; she belongs to @burnsoslow and is used with permission.

Song Inspiration: January, Millie Lee: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l3pIWpdzs2A

December 23

Riley

Riley stood in the feminine care aisle of her neighborhood CVS, braless under a tank top. Her sweatpants were loose around her waist and baggy everywhere else. She wore flip flops on her feet. Her hair was bushy and uncombed.

It was 12 degrees outside. She wore no coat.

Riley was not having a joyous holiday season. Ever since Drake Walker broke up with Riley at Target…her Target….life had not been good.

At work, her raise request had been turned down, and the Christmas bonus she received instead had been miniscule; while Maxwell used his bonus to pay off his credit cards, Riley was calculating how she could squeeze a dinner out and a tube of the new Bobbi Brown lipstick out of hers.

She wasn’t sleeping and was stress eating; her cart so far was filled with king sized chocolate bars, bags of some off-brand Cajun trail mix, and pints of ice cream.

If dealing with heartbreak and being broke wasn’t enough, Riley had a yeast infection, which is why she was now indifferently perusing her options for treatment. She tossed a box in the cart, and after a moment of thought, tossed in a box of Summer’s Eve as well.

As she dragged her feet up the aisle towards the cashier, she saw her Nosy Neighbor, Zack, headed her way. Inwardly, Riley rolled her eyes. The last person she wanted to see was anyfuckingbody. She mustered a tired smile and greeted her neighbor quickly.

“Riley, Riley, Riley! All set for Christmas?” Zack asked cheerfully.

Riley looked at him through slit eyes. Do I look ready for Christmas? Her tone, however, was neither sullen nor depressed, so she patted herself on the back for that.

“Just gonna be a quiet day for me”.

She eased past Zack towards the front of the store, hoping that was the end of the conversation. However, her neighbor followed behind her, still chatting. Riley tuned him out.

At the register, Riley pulled her items out of her cart, setting them on the counter. Zack reviewed her purchases, his eyes growing wide.

“Are you okay, Riley? That’s a lot of sugar!”

Riley kept her eyes on the counter, watching as the cashier swiped each item. “I don’t know, Zack. My boyfriend broke up with me less than three weeks ago. I’m alone and just bought $15 in candy bars. What do you think?”

Another candy bar was swiped. “Oh, my bad. $18 worth of candy bars.”

“I’m sorry, Riley”, Zack said softly. “You know, the church is having a dinner. You’re welcome to come.”

A sad smile crossed Riley’s lips. “Thanks, Zack. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

The cashier gave Riley her total; she dug in her pocket for her credit card.

Her card declined.

With a confused look, Riley ran the card two more times. Each time, it declined. The line behind her grew longer and a bit more impatient.

Riley couldn’t believe that on top of EVERYTHING ELSE, her card was freaking declining. To add insult to injury, it was the one with the highest credit limit.

Zack took out his card. “I got it, Riley. You can pay me back whenever.”

With tears in her eyes, Riley gathered her purchases and ran out the door.

“Merry Christmas, Zack!” she called over her shoulder in a broken voice.

Olivia x Max

Maxwell was stretched out on his couch, wearing nothing but his pajama pants. He was firing up the blunt he had just rolled. He inhaled deeply, feeling the acrid smoke fill his lungs. He exhaled with a deep sigh and smiled up at Olivia, who was straddling his lap.

Her hair was loose and fell in soft waves to her shoulders. She was wearing Maxwell’s pajama top and a lacy thong.

“Do you think we smoke too much weed?” he asked with a frown.

“It’s CHRISTMAS! Green is the color of the Christmas”, Olivia responded.

“So is red”, Maxwell countered.

Olivia clutched the bottle of merlot in her hand and held it aloft. “Which is why we have this baby!” she giggled.

The couple exchanged kisses between tokes and pulls at the wine bottle.

“You’re a Queen, you know”, Maxwell murmured against her skin.

Olivia shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

“You are!”, Maxwell insisted. He motioned for Olivia to get off him; when she did, he sat up, his gaze fixed on the scenery outside their living room window.

“We could live in this place far away. Cordonia! That’s its name! We could all live there! Be royals and nobles and shit.”

Olivia exhaled. “And what would we do there?”

“Noble shit! The guys would walk around with ivory tipped canes and wear monocles. And the ladies would wear fancy dresses and sip tea all day.”

“What roles would we have?”

Maxwell thought as he swigged wine. “Drake would definitely be a Duke. Of a real masculine sounding place…like Ramsford!

Madeleine would be noble but barely…. she’d be like a Baroness or a Countess or something. Her place would have a weird name.”

“Valtoria!” Olivia proclaimed.

“Riley…. she’s a Duchess for sure. Of Fydelia!”

“She could change the name to Rydelia!”

“Liam…. he’s like a Lord or something. Of Krona.”

Olivia frowned. “Krona sounds too masculine. You should make Drake Duke of Krona, and Liam the Lord of Ramsford.”

Her green eyes took in Maxwell. “And what about you?”

Maxwell thought. He reached for the blunt. “I don’t think I’m Duke material. I would probably be a Lord or something. Of Lythikos! There would be mountains and snow and stuff so I could ski and sled year-round.”

“And what about me?” Olivia demanded as she reached for the wine bottle.

Maxwell’s arm went around her shoulder as he pulled her closer. “You’re the Queen, my dear.”

“Who’s my King?”

“Bertrand. He’s the King.”

“Over my dead fucking body!” Olivia swatted Maxwell’s thigh.

“You two could have an arrangement or something. A Cordonian arrangement! And I, the Lord of Lythikos, would be your most loyal servant.”

Olivia stood, stretching her lithe body. “Well, come along, loyal servant; we have gifts to wrap before the munchies overtake us.”

Leo x Madeleine

“What can we take that won’t trigger Mother?” Madeleine asked as she and Leo wandered Whole Foods.

They were spending Christmas Eve with her mother, who was a newly recovering alcoholic. Adelaide had been sober a little over thirty days. Madeleine picked up a carton of egg nog; it had alcohol in it. She searched for a non-alcoholic version.

“Your mother drank anything that had liquor in it and made sure it did have alcohol when it didn’t. For over twenty years. At this point, liquids period is a trigger”, Leo said. “We should stick with tea, water, and soda.”

“I want to support my mother, Leo! She’s making strides to get better, to be better!”

Leo pulled Madeleine closer to him; one arm went around her waist, his hand splayed against her back. The other hand took the carton of egg nog from her hand and tossed it back into the dairy case.

“I know you do, Mads. I want to support her as well. But you can’t be her babysitter. If she didn’t think she could handle a dinner party, she wouldn’t be throwing one.”

“But Father will be there……” Madeleine’s voice drifted off as Christmas carols blared from speakers.

Leo’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed a little. “Did she invite him?”

Madeleine shook her head. “I don’t know. All she said was we were invited, and Father was coming.”

“That bastard has some nerve! Okay, change of plans. Your mom is coming to our place!”

Madeleine looked up at Leo, her green eyes hopeful and uncertain at the same time. “Are you sure?”

“Addy has thirty days under her belt. I want to see her get thirty-one. Godfrey being anywhere near her guarantees she goes back to Day Zero. She’ll stay with us through the New Year. She can sleep in our room and we’ll take the sleeper sofa.”

“But you just said we can’t babysit her”, Madeleine reminded him.

“She’s about to step out in front of a bus traveling at high speed down a narrow road. We’re protecting her.”

“I love you so much!!” Madeleine was near tears as she hugged Leo tightly.

Leo kissed her hair. “Same here. Now, you call your mom while I see if they have any cookbooks in this bitch.”

Drake x Alyssa

Drake’s eyes were fixed on the road as he drove Alyssa to the airport. Alyssa was singing along with a 90s song on the radio. Her hand rested lightly on top of Drake’s as DCA loomed in the distance.

“I wish you didn’t have to go”, Drake muttered as he changed lanes.

“Shhhhhh…I’m serenading you”, Alyssa scolded.

Drake grinned as he shook his head. How did this little tornado bowl him over so quickly? She made him smile, she made him tingle, she made him feel complete in a way no one had before.

Not even Brooks.

Guilt and sadness filled him at the thought of Riley. He needed to talk to her, but he had no idea what to say. Sorry wasn’t going to cut it, and Drake wasn’t good with words. He was shaken from his thoughts by Alyssa asking him if he enjoyed her singing to him.

“Of course, Devereaux. You should stay and give me an encore.”

“When I get back! And if we’re still together this time next year, I’ll bring you with me. Daniel and my friends will be thrilled to meet you!” Alyssa promised, her blue eyes meeting his brown ones.

“If we’re still together next Christmas, I’m taking you to Texas.”

“Christmas needs cold and snow, not swimming pools and shorts!”

Drake took the exit to enter the airport. “When you come back, if you’re up for it, I want to introduce you to my friends. We get together about once a month or so and hang out. Dinner, movies, bowling……that kind of stuff.”

“I’d like that”, Alyssa said softly.

Her eyes grew anxious. “What will you be doing on Christmas Day? I don’t want you to be alone.”

Drake shrugged. “Sleep. Watch basketball. Dinner with my sister, her fiancé, and my nephew.” He leaned over and snatched a quick kiss. “Missing you.”

“Stop making me fall for you!” Alyssa giggled as she pushed his arm lightly.

“I’ve already fallen. Join me, won’t you?” Drake said softly.

“I might take you up on that offer.” Alyssa tightened her hold on his hand.

Drake pulled up to the doors to the airline; he shut his truck off and rushed around to open Alyssa’s door. He lifted her from the seat and helped her out. She grinned up at Drake, her eyes shiny with tears. She stood on her toes, throwing her arms around his neck.

“I’m going to miss you so much!” She pressed her pink lips against his.

“You’re back on the 28th, right?

Alyssa nodded. “Late flight, though.”

Drake kissed her again. “I don’t care if it lands at 2am. Let me know when your flight is due back. I’ll be here.”

After a lingering kiss and a tight hug, Drake pulled Alyssa’s suitcase from the back of the vehicle and walked her to the doors.

As a bitter cold wind blew through his wool coat as if it were a cotton shirt, Drake waved to Alyssa until he couldn’t see her anymore.

Liam

Liam pulled underwear and socks from his dresser drawer to toss into his suitcase. He had his Santa socks, his Christmas tree socks, his jingle bell socks, his reindeer socks. He frowned as he looked for his socks with the gift boxes; ahhhh, there they were!

He was going to Boston for Christmas. It wasn’t his original plan.

Liam had wanted to stay in DC, come into the office while everyone else was on vacation, get some work done. Spend time with his friends, maybe go out for Chinese food and a movie on Christmas Day with Riley B. Or maybe Riley B. would cook Christmas dinner, and he could go to her place. Liam wouldn’t even have minded the fact that Drake would’ve been there.

Anything to take his mind off the fact that he was alone at Christmas when he wasn’t ready to be.

But when he met up with the gang last week, neither Riley nor Drake were there. Madeleine and Leo were going to her mother’s for a Christmas Eve dinner party and staying overnight. Maxwell and Olivia were going to Bertrand’s for the day and staying for dinner.

Liam figured Riley and Drake had plans as well, probably visiting Riley’s family in North Carolina. So Liam would be alone this Christmas, and the thought of going to an empty office drained him of his motivation to prove that he was worthy of the promotion.

After dinner with the gang, Liam had called his mom and told her he wanted to come home for Christmas. Eleanor had been ecstatic; she missed her sons.

“Is your brother coming?” she asked excitedly. Leo was not her biological child, but Eleanor considered him her own.

“Not this time. He’s going with Madeleine to see her mother. And he has to work the day after Christmas.”

“Well, we’ll see him next time! And we can Skypetime him or something! Now, I’m making a turkey and a leg of lamb. And my oyster dressing. And corn. And mashed potatoes with sour cream and giblet gravy.”

“Mom, you know I hate oyster dressing!” Liam protested.

“Your father loves it! I’ll make two dressings, but yours is coming out of a box.”

“Why can’t you just scoop mine out before you add the oysters?” Liam frowned.

“Stop frowning! Maybe I can do that…. we’ll see. You eat your weight in dressing, Mister!”

“How did you even know I was frowning?” Liam asked curiously.

“You’re my son. I know what you do!”

Liam smirked thinking that if his mom knew all he did……

“I know you do that too! So when will you be here?”

“Looking up flights now.”

“Let us know so I can have your father pick you up.”

“I can Uber, mom. You guys don’t need to come pick me up!”

“Nonsense. Your father will be there. Okay, gotta go……600 Pound Life is coming on, and I need inspiration to stick to my diet!”

Liam tossed in pants and sweaters; after some internal debate, he tossed in his work laptop. He had reached out to some old friends still in Boston, so hopefully he wouldn’t be working, but just in case. His packing done, he glanced at the clock. He had an early flight out in the morning, but he wasn’t sleepy.

He was thinking about Riley B. and what she was doing. He wondered what Drake bought her for Christmas. He hadn’t asked anyone for suggestions as he usually did. Liam wondered if it was a ring.

His eyes fell on the wrapped present he had bought for Riley B. They hadn’t done Secret Santa this year, but Liam knew Riley B. would love the bottle of Coco Chanel Mademoiselle. It was one of her favorite scents.

Liam decided to wait to see what Drake got her; it was five years now for them. Time to put a ring on it or let her go. If Drake did give her a ring, it could be an engagement present.

Liam hoped it wouldn’t be.

With a sigh, he climbed into bed and turned off the lamp. He grabbed his phone and texted Riley, wishing her a Merry Christmas.

She responded back almost immediately. Merry Christmas, bestie.

Liam stared at his screen before sending his response. You’re my best friend, too.

He rolled over, closing his eyes, phone clasped in his hand. I love you.

Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @wannabemc2 @topsyturvy-dream @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @hopefulmoonobject @custaroonie @i-am-liam-rhys @jovialyouthmusic @thequeenofcronuts @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @amomentofsinclairity @bobasheebaby @ao719 @sashatrr @marietrinmimi @ladyangel70 @gardeningourmet @umccall71 @angi15h @romanticatheart-posts @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @blznbaby @tabithacarlisle @emceesynonymroll @bbrandy2002 @ab1901 @janezillow @debramcg1106 @radlovedreamer @jessiembruno @lodberg @thecordoniandiaries @ramseyandrys @caroldxnvxrs @princess-geek @burnsoslow @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @emichelle @indiacater @loveellamae @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @bebepac @zaffrenotes @queenjilian @princessleac1

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goodlookingforagirl · 4 years

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Oc-tober Day 2: Mercy

Time for the second installment of Oc-tober by @oc-growth-and-development, where I write short prompts about my oc’s! Today’s prompt was mercy, so I wrote a story where two of my sister oc’s, Adelaide and Violet, get into trouble, and one shows mercy on the other. It’s the typically mundane slice-of-life stuff I normally write, but as an only child, I’m very interested in sibling relationships, so it’s interesting to me! (And I totally show the Missourian in me by mentioning Branson, the most overrated vacation destination in the world. — if you know, you know.)

TW (I guess): Swearing and mentions of alcohol

Day 2: Mercy

Adelaide barely flinched when she heard Violet scream. Violet was always screaming, or shrieking, or doing something else loud and obnoxious. Ever since Violet was born, she was so loud and melodramatic that the family learned to ignore her outbursts at first blush. Adelaide assumed Violet had just received a juicy piece of gossip, or that she found they were out of ice cream. It was usually something so unimportant.

But a split second after her scream, there was a crash — the sound of glass shattering into a million pieces. Dumbass probably knocked over Mom’s vase, Adelaide thought to herself. She almost didn’t get up to check, but since she was the only other person home, and she was the oldest, she knew it was her responsibility.

“What did you do this time?” Adelaide groaned as she rounded the corner to the kitchen. There, her little sister was standing over a shattered bottle of Crown Royal, flushed and aghast.

“Jesus, did you punt it onto the floor of something?” Adelaide asked.

“It fell off the top of the fridge and hit the counter!” Violet shrieked.

Adelaide folded her arms. “All by itself? Or did you move it?”

“I wanted to have some,” she breathlessly replied. “I mean, Daddy says it’s his favorite, and I’ve seen you sneak some before. I didn’t think I’d drop it.”

Adelaide defensively folded her arms. “Yeah, but I don’t knock it all over the place.”

Violet suddenly shrunk back. “If Mom and Dad find out, they’re going to ground me. And that means…”

She didn’t have to finish her sentence. For the past month, Violet had been looking forward to joining her friend’s family on a weekend trip to Branson. It would be her first vacation away from her family. Mom and Dad would definitely make her stay home if they found out she was trying to drink their whiskey while they were gone.

“Promise you won’t tell, Adelaide.”

Adelaide was many things, but she wasn’t a snitch. “I promise.”

Violet stared at the wreckage. “Even if we clean it up, they’re going to notice it’s gone. Now they’re going to know I did it.”

“Calm down; you’re acting like you’ve never tricked Mom and Dad before.” Adelaide squatted down and started picking up the larger pieces of glass. “Get the wet-dry vacuum out of the garage and get the little pieces.”

Violet obeyed, and after fifteen minutes, the two of them got the kitchen looking as pristine as possible. They even lit a candle to mask the liquor-drenched scent of the room.

“But what if they notice the bottle’s gone?”

Adelaide would have suggested buying a new bottle (she was only sixteen, but she knew which stores carded), but her twin sister Esther had the car tonight. “Just don’t say anything if they mention it. They’ll probably guess the other one finished it.”

After Violet had calmed down, Adelaide went back to her room and forgot about the whole ordeal. She’d committed plenty of household crimes in the past, all without her parents finding out. Violet was just new to the whole thing.

When their parents got home a couple hours later, Adelaide still didn’t think about the kitchen mishap. Until her mother’s voice raised.

“Girls!” she shouted. “Come out here right now!”

Adelaide and Violet both dragged their feet to the kitchen, where their mother was holding up a single neglected shard of glass. “How did this end up on the floor?”

Adelaide shrugged. “Could be from anything. Six people live in this house.”

Mom raised her eyebrows and pulled the trash can forward. “You don’t think it’s from the shattered Crown Royal bottle that’s conveniently lying in here?”

“Fuck,” Adelaide muttered, and Violet thought the same. They’d forgotten the most important rule: when disposing of evidence, never leave it in the household trash can. At least take it to the bin outside, if not a neighbor’s bin. But Adelaide hadn’t been thinking clearly, and Violet wasn’t aware of that rule. They’d been found out.

“Which one of you did this?” their mother asked. “Because it’s one thing to break something. It’s another to be drinking alcohol while we’re gone.”

Both girls shuffled their feet, but Violet was obviously the most agitated. As far as her parents knew, she wasn’t a troublemaker. She’d never even tried to sneak into their liquor supply before tonight, when she was home alone with Adelaide who would have probably joined her for a glass, unlike her other sisters, who would’ve tattled. Now her mom would know she was guilty, and she’d cancel her trip to Branson, and she’d never live it down.

“I did it,” Adelaide said.

Violet glanced up at her sister, shocked. Their mother looked less shocked.

“I thought so,” Mom said, shaking her head. “Adelaide, I know we let you have wine at dinner sometimes, but you can’t just be getting drunk when we’re gone. Especially not with one of your sisters at home.”

“I know,” Adelaide replied. “I’m sorry. I was just going to have a little bit, but then I dropped the bottle.”

Violet watched as their mother gave Adelaide a lecture about responsibility and maturity, ending in her being grounded for two weeks. That meant Adelaide would have to cancel at least three scheduled dates with her boyfriend, and she’d also have to miss a night at the movie theater with her friends.

Their mom finally excused them, and the sisters walked back to their respective rooms. Violet grabbed Adelaide before she could close the door.

“Why’d you lie?” she whispered.

Adelaide sighed. “They weren’t surprised to hear I did it. They would have been if it was you. And you were looking forward to Branson so much.”

“But you’ll have to stay home every night for two weeks. And you didn’t even do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll live. You owe me one now, though.”

“I know I do.” Violet was grateful and surprised that Adelaide would be so generous. She usually treated her younger sisters like inconveniences at best. Violet wanted to make it up to her.

“I got a couple new bottles of nail polish. If you wanted to do our nails tonight.”

Adelaide practically recoiled. “Ew, no. I don’t want to hang out with you, especially not over nails.” She still looked disgusted as she closed her bedroom door.

Well, she’d tried. Violet went to her room and did her nails alone while listening to the radio. Adelaide could be kind, it turns out, but it didn’t mean they were friends, and that was fine. Violet would pay her back in the future, when she needed help. Until then, she’d look forward to Branson.

#oc-tober #oc-growth-and-development #adelaide #violet #s

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rookisaknight · 6 years

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Who Knows What the Next Half Hour, Forty-Five Minutes Hold- A Sharky x Deputy fic

Guess who finally finished that meet cute ideaaaaaa. So this got long enough that I’m actually gonna put it on AO3 as well because I’m an attention hungry bitch. This is set pre-game events (like, a couple months before), and is a gender neutral Deputy because, in the words of a great man, “I don’t wanna go assumin nobody gender”

Fic Summary: You don’t expect your luck to turn around via getting caught trying to light a squad car on fire. But then, weirder things have happened for Sharky.

Word Count: 3721

They hadn’t invented a curse word good enough for the kind of day Charlemagne “Sharky” Boshaw the IV was having. Not that this was stopping him from cycling through a few choice ones, trying to find one who’s mouthfeel and vitriol would encompass the capital B Bullshit he was putting up with today.

First off, waking up in a drunk tank was never a good way to start the morning. Especially not with that shithead Pratt, who’d lately taken to amusing himself by waking up the nightly collection of hedonists with decidedly non-regulation use of the prison’s speaker system. The only thing worse than waking up with a blistering headache and a knot in your back is having it happen to the tune of “Chicken Fried” at 120 decibels.

“Fuck, dude, I should kill ya for bad taste if nothin else!” He had tried to scream over the fuckin acoustic strumming. Pratt had just snickered, handing a coffee mug to his P.O., who looked just as amused by the whole scenario.

It was only after he’d shouted himself hoarse that Pratt finally agreed to give him his phone call. Voice squeaking with dehydration and overuse, he’d by some miracle got Hurk on the phone and tried to talk him into bailing him out. Problem was, Hurk was (as per fuckin usual) short on cash. The old man was also piss drunk mad at him (once again, usual), but he thought maybe Addie might be in a good enough mood to chuck a little his way. The thought of Aunt Adelaide had momentarily perked him up until he realized that if Hurk couldn’t get the money from her, he was gonna have to be able to talk to Hurk again to sort things out. And given how absolutely certain he was that Staci was going to shove the “one-phone-call-only” stick up his ass in a few minutes......that meant he was gonna have to stay on the line.

He spent the better part of two hours, head pounding, mouth only getting dryer as he listened to Hurk putter around looking for his keys, getting continually distracted, finally getting in the fuckin truck and driving up to the Marina, only to discover the reason Addie had seemed so good-tempered in her response to her only son’s good morning text is that, judging by what Sharky could hear over the tinny reception, she and Xander were....busy.

What followed was a three way screaming match of Addie yelling at Hurk to get the hell out, Sharky yelling at Hurk to stay the hell there, and Hurk yelling their responses back and forth across the phoneline.

Finally Xander tossed his wallet at Hurk in an effort to make him leave (“he seemed real excited about this harness thing Mama was fussin with, I dunno”), and after paying off his bail, slipping an extra fifty to keep his P.O happy, and begging a ride home, Sharky was more than ready to take some aspirin, find a six pack, and wash off last night’s hangover with a tonight’s beer.

No such luck. His truck had been impounded after last night’s little misadventure. And he felt his heart sink into the holes in his socks when he saw the big black Eden’s Gate cross in the window of the only liquor store in walking distance

“MotherFUCKINGdamnit not you too!”

Had he lost his temper a bit? Sure. Did he expect the windows to still be alarmed? No. But, he thought to himself as he beat feet into the woods before any cops could pick up on it, Eden’s Gate had only themselves to blame for it! Wasn’t enough that they had to get half of Holland Valley so all-fired on chastity that he couldn’t move without getting a pamphlet on lust shoved up his nose and down his pants, now they had to deprive him of his well-earned booze too!

Like most residents of Hope County he didn’t know what the hell the cops were playing at letting the Peggies keep running as they did. Sure, John Seed and Faith were running spin so well it made carousels jealous, but it was the state’s worst kept secret that the recent rash of disappearances could be pretty easily traced to them. Not to mention the scars most of their members were sporting....Hell, maybe he should recommend Pratt to the evangelists that came knocking through his trailer park early each Sunday.

.....No. No he wouldn’t. Jackass though he was....well. From the stories Sharky’d heard and the bits and pieces he’d seen for himself, he wouldn’t wish that on anyone’s head.

Still, he felt irritated. Frustration building inside him like a pressure cooker as he shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, feeling his feet unconsciously make tracks for the ruins of the old roller derby. He needed to cool off.

People made the mistake of looking at him alongside Hurk and assuming he was just as mellow. He wasn’t. Sure, the weed and the beers kept him nice and chilled out, usually, but without a substance in his hands he was at the mercy of the spastic energy that was always cooped up in his body. He needed to...shit. Hit something maybe? Prank calls?

No.....no he knew this feeling.

He needed to burn something.

He fished the lighter out of his pocket, sending up a quick thank you that Pratt hadn’t taken it off him. He was running low on them with the new P.O sticking his nose into every nook and cranny to squirrel out contraband. Something about enablement and all the other bullshit his court-appointed therapist liked to recite to him in their bi-monthly sessions.

With a huff, he leaned against a tree, flicking it on and off again. Trying to lose himself in the little bright patch of flame. Sometimes this would at least take the edge off. Today, though? He was gonna need a lot more than a measly little two buck zippo.

His options were limited. Normally in a case like this he’d go for a campfire but it was the dry season and any smoke was certain to have those smarmy pricks from the fire department up his ass. He flicked the lighter a few more times, hoping maybe it’d concur with a lightbulb moment and he could have that dramatic satisfaction.

Out of the corner of his eye he suddenly saw a gleam of white aluminum.

He glanced over and instinctively dove behind the tree once he realized what it was. Police cruiser. Of all the days....He observed it cautiously before slowly emerging. Didn’t look like anyone was there. Keys weren’t even in.

He’d gotten acquainted enough with most of the police vehicles in town to know this one was Pratt’s chosen steed. You could tell by the number of air-fresheners he kept in there: one of his tricks he insisted made chicks feel more at home in a car.

(Not like Sharky’d tried that or anything. And even if he had, the lingering odors were finally coming out of the upholstery after the fourth wash. “Stripper smell” his ass....)

Most importantly, though, like most people around here, Pratt didn’t lock his doors....

Sharky’s lightbulbs usually took a while to kick on but this one seemed to burn a few watts brighter than most.

He took a quick check of the surrounding woods. Long practice had taught him what made for good kindling and what didn’t. It was pretty much the only thing he’d kept from a few frustrating years in 4H, aside from a couple of hoofshaped bruises on his arms and a healthy fear of pigs.

And that was the moment when he realized all the bullshit of the day had been leading him to this single, perfect, shining moment. Because right there, nested amongst a beautiful layer of crisp pine needles and perfectly dried out branches....was chamerion angustifolium.

More commonly known as fireweed.

He moved fast as he could, carefully laying the groundwork in the backseat of the cruise, setting it up with the savoir-faire of a practiced artist. The finished product damn near brought a tear to his eye. He couldn’t resist taking a picture, moving it to a hidden folder reserved for porn and particularly nice stills from period piece movies.

He’d just found some clubmoss and was debating whether or not he had the time, scraping the fine powder off the stalks and into the center of the tinder...

“I didn’t find anyone”

The voice jerked him out of his reverie and his head snapped up.

“Yeah, me either.” Said a tired voice. Wait, he knew that one.....Deputy Hudson?

He slowly poked his head around. Yeah, Hudson alright, stomping through the woods, looking her usual vaguely tired/irritated self. She was talking to a figure he didn’t recognize (and Sharky flattered himself that he was pretty familiar with the figures of Hope County).

Shit. Should he run?

“Should we call it in?” they were saying, hand reaching for the radio clipped to their belt.

Hudson sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I dunno. Lot of trouble to go to over a busted window. Specially when there wasn’t anyone in there.”

Fuck shiiiiit they were looking for him then. He thought about bolting, but.....he looked at the kindling. There was no way this wouldn’t point back to him. He raised his hand to smash it but it was like asking Leonardo to smash the Mona Lisa. Or was is Raphael? One of the turtles...

“Still, it is Eden’s Gate property now....will that be a problem?”

“It will be. Question is, if we care or not.”

The stranger looked down, biting their lip. Hudson seemed to notice and snorted. “Right. Look, I know they seem intimidating but if the department went into a frenzy everytime somethin happened that Joseph Seed didn’t like then we’d never stop frenzy.....ing.” She grimaced a bit at how the sentence ended.

“So what should we do.”

They were too close, if he bolted now they’d see him run.

“Tell ya what.” She came to a halt. “We’ll do a last sweep. If we don’t find anything we’ll call it a day. Tell Seed it was a big bird or something.”

“You’re sure?”

“Trust me, Rook, the sheriff won’t care and I don’t wanna be out here any longer than I have to be. You go left, I’ll go right, we meet back in ten minutes. Sound good?”

He let out a slow sigh of relief. They’d leave, he’d (carefully) dismantle the pile, and he’d be gone. No point doing it if Pratt wasn’t gonna suffer the consequences. He started to slowly rise to his feet.

“Alright, see you the-”

Several things happened in the span of a few seconds.

One. Sharky remembered the sleeve of his hoodie was a bad place to keep his lighter. He remembered this as he watched it topple out.

Two. his instincts kicked in and he snatched at it, catching it just as it hit the pile of spores. The contact of his hand made them fly into the air in a puff.

Three.

His thumb caught the sparkwheel.

He felt a sharp pain in his right hand that caused him to scramble backwards as his eyes were blinded by a bright flash. He felt his facial hair singe and a wall of heat on his face, and heard distant cursing.

Long experience had gotten him used to being blinded, and his vision recovered quickly. Quick enough to see the minor explosion evaporate out of the air, catching the tinder just as it faded away.

His ears were ringing and he didn’t hear them running towards the car, but he sure as shit felt it when the stranger cop tackled him to the ground. Hudson followed close behind, cursing loudly and hurriedly using the jacket to stifle the flames that were steadily eating through the upholstery.

“Who the hell are you?!” the stranger said, grabbing the front of his hoodie and pulling him up to look at them.

“uh.....Jimmy Buffet?” He said stupidly, mildly dazed. Didn’t help that this stranger had a pretty ass pair of eyes. Or maybe that was just the shock talking.

Hudson finally managed to choke out the fire, backing off and taking a deep breath before taking a look at the culprit.

“.....Boshaw?!”

What mirror had he broken

“You know him.”

“Ohhhh I know him.” Hudson straightened off, looking torn between anger and mild amusement. “The local serial arsonist. Thought Pratt had you drying out in the tank?”

“I wanna lawyer” He groaned.

“Yeah, yeah. Get off him, Rook, contrary to appearances, he isn’t dangerous. Just stupid.”

The stranger (Rook? Rookie? A last name? Who knew) clambered off him, looking slightly sheepish at having gone full Rambo for no apparent reason. “What should we do.”

“What you’re gonna do.” Hudson said, hauling him to his feet. “Is start the car and make sure it still runs.”

“Aw, c’mon, this aint necessary-” Even as he protested, out of long habit he assumed the position against the cruiser, wrists moving into position for easy cuffing.

“No, but it sure is fun” Hudson said, snapping them on. Loose. Which was almost more humiliating, and not in the fun way either.

The car turned on as normal.

“Well. Guess we don’t have to add ‘vehicle replacement’ to your list of fines.”

“I didn’t put nothin in the dash! I’m not tryin to kill anybody, just deal with some highly justifiable frustration-”

“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you in court of law.” Hudson said quickly, cutting across his excuses as she forced him into the passenger side of the cruiser. “Rook, take him into the station, Pratt’ll know what to do. I’m gonna radio the Sheriff and let him know we found the window perp.”

“Hey, you got no evidence that was me!” He protested. “Just cause I happen to be in the same area as a liquor store doesn’t mean I’m-”

“How’d you know it was a liquor store.”

“........hey can we have a mulligan on the ‘right to remain silent’ thing-”

Hudson rolled her eyes. “Knowing Earl he’s gonna wanna come up himself and make sure the report’s in order. I’ll catch a lift back with him.”

“Got it.” Rook said, climbing into the driver’s seat. “See you at the station.”

They put it into drive and pulled out.

Sharky tried remaining in sullen silence but that was bound to last all of two minutes. His foot jiggled restlessly as he started racing through his options.

“Hey! You have any idea how serious this is?” they snapped, glaring at him. “What the hell were you trying to do?”

“Not talkin till I get a lawyer.”

“That ship’s kinda sailed don’t ya think? What the hell did you do, pour gasoline on the seats? An explosion that big, you’re lucky it didn’t destroy the car and take you out with it-”

“Its clubmoss”

“.....what?”

“Its clubmoss!” He said, snapping a bit more than he would’ve normally liked. But damn it, dude, this was the one area where he actually knew what the fuck he was talking about! Actin like Sharky Boshaw didn’t know exactly how much havoc he was wreaking was an insult to his professionalism. “Its basically plant flashbang.”

“What do you....”

“Here, just-” He slipped out of the cuffs easily enough, and ignoring their sputtering protests, he reached into the backseat and scraped up a handful of the green powder that hadn’t burned off in the explosion. “Slow the car down”

“I’m not gonna-...you-”

“I’m not gonna run. Not lookin to get tackled again.”

“....” Curiosity got the better of them and he felt the car slow to a crawl.

He rolled down the window, tossed the powder in the air, and in the same moment sparked his lighter. A burst of flame, much smaller than the last but burning out just as quick, appeared and disappeared, making Rook yelp.

“Clubmoss spores are chockful of lycopodium powder. They use it in movies and shit for special effects, the stuff doesn’t last long enough to cause real damage and won’t light unless it’s in the air.” He rolled back up the window, absently slipping the handcuffs back on. “Found that out from a behind the scenes featurette on this old bible movie from the church basement. Used to watch it a lot for the scene where God tossed down fire on the Egyptians or whoever. That is uh.....until the pastor confiscated it. Turns out the church basement still qualifies as holy ground and popping a boner anywhere on holy ground ain’t exactly considered kosher.”

.....Judging by the look on their face? Probably should have stopped after “behind the scenes featurette”

“So you’re a uh....special kind of crazy huh.”

“....The technical term is serial arsonist” He muttered, turning away with a flush.

“Well.....its a cool party trick at least.”

“Its-” Wait....wait, were they smiling?! Cops could smile at something that wasn’t the pain of others? Didn’t that violate some kind of code?

“Gotta say, if I were you I would’ve left the handcuffs off.” They turned onto the main road.

“Uh....” Shit, they really were cute. Or maybe that was the 6 months dry spell talking. “...gonna be honest, I don’t recall puttin em back on.” Cmon, cmon, think of something sexy to say. “Probably cause of uh...how used I am to being in handcuffs. For pleasurable reasons. I associate handcuffs with very....very good moments.” Nailed it.

“Well, given how much time Pratt says you’ve spent in holding cells I guess some of those memories have to be pleasant.”

Unnailed.

“So why’d you break the window?”

“What window.” He said instinctively. The Deputy gave him a Look and he shrugged. “.....look, I understand, freedom of religion and all that shit, but comin between a man and his liquor store has to qualify for some kind of offense, right?”

They snorted. “Well. Not that I don’t sympathize but I don’t know how well a judge is gonna take to that line of reasoning.”

“Wait, a judge? I don’t....look, we don’t need to take it that far-”

“Its probably what’s gonna happen. Those Peggies.....” their voice trailed off. Unsure how much shit-talking they could do in uniform. “Never seen a group so eager to press charges.”

Sharky groaned. “You gotta be fuckin....Officer, come on, I can’t do another couple months in prison. You know how boring it is in there? I mean, sure, the first few days are fine, you get to catch up with everyone, but after that you realize you’re gonna have to get used to watching all these guys take a piss for the next few months and it gets old real fast.”

“Its not really my call.”

“Its not like I even hurt anybody” This time. “Just a little reupholstering job, hell, I’ll stitch the damn seat cover myself-”

“I’m sorry but....I don’t think there’s anything I can do”

They sounded genuinely sympathetic, something he wasn’t used to from law enforcement. Maybe this one really did have a human side after all...

.....Well. Looked like the day had finally come that Sharky had been waiting for his whole life. He leaned back, pulling off his hat and running a hand through his hair a few times and trying to get a look at himself in the rearview mirror. Alright, so he wasn’t exactly Ryan Gosling, but this wasn’t the worst he’d ever looked...

“I mean uh...” He let his voice drop about a half octave and leaned into the hoarseness to go for that rougher quality. “If you want...I could find a way to make it worth your whILE”

His voice squeaked. Cracked like it hadn’t since early puberty.

A deathly silence settled over the car.

And then the deputy erupted in laughter.

Loud, long laughter, making their shoulders shake as they bent over the wheel. Gasping for air, they were forced to put the car in park just to keep them from driving off the road. Practically screaming with it.

“Alright, alright” He muttered, shoving his hat back on as his face went bright red. “I can take a hint”

They pounded the dash. “Y-you-....you-!” Tears were streaming down their face as they snorted helplessly. And despite the humiliation of the scenario....it was infectious enough to make him crack unwittingly into a grin.

Eh, what the hell, longer it took them to recover, longer he was out of prison.

“What’s so fuNNY” He said, forcing the crack again, which reinvigorated the laughing.

“Stop, stop, I-I’m gonna puke” They gasped out, choking a bit.

Sharky patted their back. “Sooo that’s a no I’m guessin.”

They shook their head, grinning ear to ear and straightening up as they caught their breath. “Get going.”

“What?”

“Go. Leave the handcuffs. I’ll make up some excuse.”

“....you’re serious?” His eyes widened. “Please, fuck, be serious, Staci let me get like 20 feet before hitting me with a taser in the back and let me tell you that think hurts like a bit-”

“You’ve been punished enough today, I think. And we’ve got actual threats to deal with these days.” They pulled off a key from the ring and handed it to him. “No offense.”

“....I mean, ok, a little offense normally, but given the circumstances, none taken” He unlocked the cuffs quickly and shot out of the car before they could change their mind.

“Hey, Boshaw!”

“Uhhh.....you can call me Sharky. Sounds a bit more normal.” He turned back to look at them.

They smiled. “Sharky then. Honey in tea is gonna help that voice of yours a lot more than beer. And try not to burn the forest down on the way.”

“Can do ma’-...si-....officer!” He waved and ran off fast as he could. He heard their laughter echoing a bit as the car pulled off.

.....Maybe it might be worth sticking on the right side of the law for a couple weeks, at least.

Or maybe not. How the hell else was he gonna see them again?

#far cry 5 #fc5 #far cry deputy #we all know its canon staci was kind of an asshole before the game #so i rode that #staci pratt #joey hudson #sharky boshaw #sharky boshaw x deputy #sharky x dep #far cry rook #deputy x sharky #hurk drubman jr #adelaide drubman

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chromium-siren · 5 years

Text

Nightingale (Part 4)

(A/N: After writer’s block, I can finally continue the story! Yaaaay! Also, a big thank you to @kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls for helping me with ways to continue the story!)

TW: bomb threat.

PHASMA

Brendol’s visit brought us some reassurance, but of course, we didn’t know who to trust. What if Brendol was still working for Vader? No, that probably wouldn’t be reasonable, especially since I literally just met him today. Nonetheless, Hux and I waited for that Tuesday Brendol said he would arrive with the equipment.

The days seemed to inch by, almost as if some higher power was intent on tormenting me- a fact made obvious by the nightmares I was beginning to have about Vader. He would loom above me holding a machete, a sadistic grin twisted on his face, or I would watch him set fire to Nightingale packed to the gills with patrons. Just as soon as he was about to push me into the flames, I woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of my alarm and Pudge’s concerned meows.

“It’s okay, Pudgelet, Maman had a nightmare,” I cooed, gently petting him as I looked at my phone lockscreen. It was a picture I took of Hux, one of him in deep thought with his sax across his lap- until I took note of the day. Tuesday. It was here. Brendol was supposed to meet us at the club to set up the cameras at around four, which meant there was just enough time for me to prepare everything (mainly my costume) for Friday’s ball. Immediately, I slid my finger across the lockscreen and texted Hux.

[txt]: today’s the day brendol comes

[txt- Armie]: four o’clock, right?

[txt]: yes. set up and everything, maybe a tech rehearsal

[txt]: is your costume ready?

[txt-Armie]: working on it. making white tie look like a mess is tough.

[txt- Armie]: also, fake blood and saxophones don’t mix. I think I ruined a mouthpiece.

[txt]: ditch the blood or put it somewhere else?

[txt-Armie]: probably. see you, love.

[txt]: xoxo

Sighing contently, I made my way downstairs to have breakfast, feeling the satisfaction that we might as well be getting our revenge on Vader soon enough. Or so I hoped...

HUX

Life at the law firm went on as usual- meetings, marking sheet music, Krennic looking like his usual shifty self. Hold up- Krennic being shifty? This was new, even for me. Hesitantly, I stood outside his office door, expecting to hear music- instead, I heard a frantic phone conversation.

“It’s at seven p.m., but we can afford to be fashionably late. Yes, Nightingale. I have all the information, I picked it up a while ago. Do I have to come in- oh, fine, it is a Halloween Ball anyway. I figure I’ll wear the cape. Yes, I’ll see you then. Thank you.” The phone hung up and I heard footsteps. Immediately assuming the worst, I tried to get away as soon as possible. Almost luckily, Krennic made his way out of his office in the opposite direction. But I was still so nervous, that when my phone vibrated, I almost yelped in shock. Looking down, I noticed it was my dad. Thank the Maker.

[txt- Brendol]: Just checked into my hotel, will be at Nightingale at four. Athena reminded the staff ahead of time.

[txt]: Thank you, dad. See you then.

I put my phone away, but not before reminding myself about the meeting at four.

“Adelaide?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I’ll be leaving a bit early today for, um... an appointment.”

“Noted,” she said, typing away at her laptop. Obviously I couldn’t say what I was doing, otherwise someone would hear and get suspicious. At around three or so, I got out of my chair, shut down my computer, and made a beeline for my car. Within a few minutes or so, I was at Nightingale, facing my father. I noticed Kylo and Poe were there as well, they had explained that they were volunteering as wait staff to help catch Vader in the act.

"Okay, everyone, thank you for coming ahead of time. As some of you know, Nightingale is in trouble- Vader wants to take control of the club in the name of some Emperor," Brendol said. "We'll need to set up cameras throughout the club, because we'll have evidence to send Vader to jail. Sound good?" Everyone nodded and got straight to work setting up the cameras. For a while, I glanced at Finn, the staff supervisor and our maitre d', stealing a kiss with Rey, our tech person.

"Will you two be at the ball?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm letting Thannison have maitre d' duties so Rey and I can go on a proper date," he said before whispering in my ear. "I'm also hoping I'll propose to her, Maker willing."

"Good luck," I said, smiling at him as we both placed and set up cameras, making sure to keep them in inconspicuous places. But little did we know, we were being watched.

PHASMA

After preparation, rehearsals, and all that jazz, the Halloween Ball finally came. Thursday's technical rehearsal went off without a hitch, and it was relieving to know the lights (and cameras) worked properly. As for me, I made sure my ghostly flapper costume looked fabulous- and it did. A white dress I found was tattered and stained with dirt and blood, with a high enough slit showing one of my garters- and the skeletal leg! At the center of my feather headband, instead of a jewel, there was a skull, and a strand of black pearls made for a fabulous lavaliere rather than the classic white pearls. But what I prided myself on was my makeup- I had made my face look pale, and painted my eyes and cheeks to look sunken in, and topped it off with a ruby red pout.

The team was also ready for the evening, made obvious by their elaborate costumes- Rose wore an elaborate steampunk ball gown, Poe was dressed as a goth, Kylo wore hippie togs, Thannison wore an elegant pirate's costume, and Mitaka was dressed as the Phantom of the Opera. Now, I knew Hux and I looked good in our zombie Jazz Age couple costume, but Finn and Rey certainly took the cake. Rey's arms were wrapped in gauze, and a bejeweled white dress shimmered in the faint light. Next to her was Finn, a mighty pharaoh who commanded respect. Right next to Thannison was a skeleton toting a double bass, as well as Frankenstein's monster with a guitar. Along with a wolfman with a trumpet, an evil clown on trombone, and a ghost on drums, Hux introduced them to me as friends from a band back in his college days who would be accompanying us. I was glad to see everyone present, but I worried about Brendol. Why was he running late? Hux then took me aside, still looking handsome in his destroyed white tie and tails.

"My dad will be here in a minute or so, darling, so don't worry," he said, gently placing a kiss on my pale forehead. Like a miracle from God, Brendol's car pulled up to the curb and stopped. He emerged from the car with a bow, wearing an elegant baroque ensemble that would make him the envy of the Sun King or any other monarch.

"Forgive my lateness, but thank you all for arriving on time," he said with a nod. "Now, waitstaff," he said, turning to Rose, Poe, Kylo, and Thannison, "you are equipped with pens that can record conversations, which would come in handy when around anyone that seems suspicious. But remember, this is no easy task since everyone will be in costume."

"Understood," Rose said.

"Rey, you and Finn are our spies. Both of you have hidden microphones and cameras in your costumes, so as you mill around, you'll be taking pictures discreetly by touching the red gem on your collars." Both of them nodded. Brendol explained the rest of the plan to the staff as I made double adjustments to the cameras hidden within the plants. "Very well then, are we all prepared?" Brendol asked. Everyone nodded in agreement as we all got ready for the ball to begin. "Wonderful. I'll be helping tend bar ut needed. Best of luck, everyone," he said, as we all walked into Nightingale. All the staff (including Pudge, our resident mouse catcher) was equipped with cameras to see if anything suspicious was going on. Once the ball ends, we would probably be sifting through footage to see if anything of interest popped up.

I sat at my vanity, warming up my voice and putting on the last of my ghostly makeup when I heard a slight jingle and the sound of Hux's shoes tapping on the floor. The door then creaked gently open, and Hux appeared before me, his white tie and tails destroyed and covered in dirt and fake blood. His face was painted pale green and adorned with nasty looking scars, and a biohazard symbol was “etched” into his forehead. Hanging from his neck strap was an alto sax that looked like it had seen better days, the shine gone from Hux playing it so often. Despite that, I smiled sweetly at him. “You look dapper.”

"It's almost time," he told me, offering me his arm as Pudge nudged my leg, his black bowtie collar jingling merrily. I walked out onto the dark stage, the audience silent as corpses (ha, ha), waiting for what I had in store for them. I nodded at one of the backstage technicians, and he began to play a custom CD we had made for the beginning of the concert. With help from Hux's co-worker Kylo, we made a perfect voiceover welcoming out guests to the ball. Now an ominous voice boomed throughout the club, startling many of the patrons (I swore I even heard a few screams!).

Welcome, foolish mortals, to the Gory Twenties. Blood flows like bootleg liquor, the jazz is hotter than Hell, and the dead walk the Earth once more. There is no escape from this possessed speakeasy- no one has survived to make it out and tell the tale! Keep your wits about you, otherwise you may be cursed to remain in this prison forever among restless flappers and murderous mafiosos! Like we said, there's no way out!

Psychotic laughter, followed by ghostly sounds played over the loudspeakers, along with clanking chains and cries of desperation. All was silent as a fog rolled across the stage. Then my disembodied voice rang out.

Those fingers in my hair/That sly come hither stare/That strips my conscience bare/Ooh, it's witchcraft...

The lights go up, and we are revealed with wild applause to the audience, creatures of the night welcoming our victims to an Art Deco bloodbath. I sang on, scanning the audience for some sign of Vader, but there was no gas mask in sight. During the bridge, I did my usual routine- flirt with Hux and anyone else in the audience, vocalize a little, and do a sultry dance in place. It was during this that Rose gave us a confirmed sighting.

"He's here. Do you see the mobster guy in the white cape?" she asked. I silently replied, making sure to step away from the microphone. "That's where Vader is sitting. I'll notify Brendol and the others ASAP. Tell Hux." I slid close to Hux, whispering in his ear about the bad news while Mitaka played a solo.

"Mafiosos, over at table twenty," I said, and then that was when I noticed his face turn pale as a sheet.

"Krennic."

"What?"

"The man in the white cape is Krennic. I know him, and I hate that bastard," he said angrily. "I have the great misfortune of him being my co-worker."

"Should Kylo investigate him?"

"I would think so, but he'll have to use a fine-toothed comb to go through it all." Mitaka cleared his throat at us, and that signaled me to start singing again, all the while shooting death glares at Krennic.

HUX

I was angry. Angry at myself for telling Krennic, angry at Krennic for having the gall to show up, and angry in general because I had an untrustworthy co-worker I had confided in who would probably betray me! Nonetheless, the police were called, and would be on their way to, eventually, remedy the situation. But for the time being, nobody did anything suspicious or out of the ordinary, and the performance went off without a hitch- the crowd loved it!

Despite our situation, we were having a good time and the patrons enjoyed themselves. The fun kept going when one of the other musicians handed Phasma his trombone. Knowing the direction this was taking, she smiled and laughed- as did I.

“I only have experience with piano, ukulele, harp, and some percussion so I’d like to apologize for this trombone concerto,” she said with a joking smile. “Armie, will you accompany me and make this a duet?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Yes indeed, my love,” I announced, readying my alto sax with great ceremony. Both of us nodded at the drummer, who picked up a woodblock. The drummer began tapping out a light beat on the woodblock, keeping time. Phasma flashed a dainty smile, and raised the trombone to her lips. What followed was something that sounded like a Wookiee getting in a fight with a porg- I was the porg. From my spot, I could see that despite her lack of trombone experience, Phasma was having fun and getting into it. Inspired by her, I got into it as well, punctuating her notes with trills, awkward squawks, and glissandos, even adding an altissimo scream. I played the part of the stereotypical cool jazz musician, lifting my saxophone up, swinging it forwards and back, and swaying it from side to side with every crappy note we played. Phasma and I played our final sour notes, and the woodblock assumed the role of the metronome one last time. The audience applauded (either because it was funny or out of relief-maybe both) as I bowed and she curtsied, an angelic smile dancing on her face. She handed the trombone back to the original owner, a faint ring of lipstick on the mouthpiece.

“And for my next performance, I will attempt to play Armie’s sax,” she said jokingly, as I dramatically clutched the alto to my chest.

“Oh no you won’t!” I joked, and she laughed in response.

“Just kidding! I can't play it anyway," she replied, kissing my cheek gently. “Now we’re going to be a bit more serious for this number,” she said, lowering her voice an octave or so, perching on a bar stool. In her ruined white flapper dress, crystals and sequins glittering, she looked like a dove, but also like an angel. None of the other musicians played as I closed my eyes and played a slow, yearning (and in tune) melody. Like she tended to do during these sensual numbers, she closed her eyes and did a breathy hum before beginning the lyrics. The others joined in as I played a sensual phrase just as soon as she lifted her eyes and sang.

“The moon was all aglow, and heaven was in your eyes/The night that you told me/Those little white lies…” Just then, she stopped short and let out an audible gasp of fear. Standing in the foyer of the bar, looming like monsters in a bad dream, the mafiosos stood, smirking. In a stark black pinstriped suit, Vader stepped forward, dark glasses making him look even more sinister than he was.

"Lovely ball you've put together, Miss Phasma," he intoned.

"You don't belong here, the police are on their way," Phasma hissed.

"Not anymore," Vader argued. "We've brought you a gift." Krennic stepped forward, holding one of the cameras, and proceeded to pour his expensive glass of champagne on it, dropping it to the floor. It sparked like crazy, and burst into flames as Brendol ran forward with a fire extinguisher.

"You won't get away, Vader!" Brendol hissed, as they laughed viciously.

"I believe we have, and for that, your deadline got shorter and shorter. You have until the first of December to scrape up that ransom money. We'll be watching," Vader said, but not without leaving a suspicious box on his table. Immediately, I whipped out my cell phone.

"I need the police."

PHASMA

With that, Vader left the club, along with his goons. I looked nervously at the box, which began to tick ominously, fearful for what might happen. Police sirens wailed, and a squad car as well as the bomb squad showed up just in time.

My mind immediately went to Vader and Krennic. how somehow, he must have known- or someone had tipped him off. Who could I trust? After all, Vader wasn’t just a threat to Nightingale, but to the town as well. And frankly, not knowing what his plans were scared me. Desperately, I looked at the anxious crowd, my eyes meeting Brendol’s. I thought I was being paranoid when I assumed that Vader might have placed something like a bomb in the club, but the box confirmed my fears. In the best interest of the patrons (and because one of the police officers advised me to do so), I decided they would have to evacuate for their own safety.

“Ladies and gentlemen, due to safety reasons, we’ll have to end the celebration earlier than we expected.” I awaited the boos and demand for refunds, but no one said a word. Sure, there were a few groans of disappointment, but those were halted by firm words.

“Last call for drinks!” Thannison said, getting into his role of a Caribbean pirate, and a steady stream of people made their way to the bar, hoping to get in a last drink order before the fun would have to end. Immediately, I had an idea. I whispered something to Mitaka, and he played a longing piano line. The bassist and drummer picked up the tune, and Hux played a wistful tenor moan. Bowing my head and closing my eyes, I took a breath and sang into the microphone.

“I’ll be seeing you in all the old familiar places…” The party atmosphere slowly dissipated, thanks in part to Vader’s surprise appearance, and all that remained was a somber mood. It seemed more like a funeral than a Halloween celebration. I heard the sound of someone sniffling and holding back tears, and noticed that my own eyes were starting to mist and tear up. My voice quivered as I continued to sing the melody, making the song sound even more melancholy than it was. At the end of the verse, I composed myself as Hux and Mitaka took a solo. Pudge knew I was sad, and ended his mouse catcher duties to rub up against me and comfort me. The rest of the musicians fell silent as they were evacuated, leaving me singing as I made my way out of the club, makeup ruined by my tears- but I didn't care. Just as I sang the last note, the police came running out, the suspicious package being revealed to be a smoke bomb which was recently defused.

Patrons milled about outside, confused and desperate for answers. One of the police men handed me a megaphone, and I began to confess everything to the patrons.

"Ladies and gentlemen... Nightingale is in danger. Vader is demanding five hundred thousand dollars by the start of December, and if we don't make it," my voice began to quaver, "Nightingale will be no more." More murmurs resounded through the crowd, and I handed the megaphone to Brendol.

"But... we'll find some sort of way to catch Vader in the act and get the club back. Mark my words, it will be done!" he said, to the cheers of the patrons. Someone took up the chant of "Save Nightingale!" and the crowd roared the chant in unison. It was a powerful scene, one that empowered me- and sent the wheels turning in my head for a plan. If we were going to get Vader out of the way and Nightingale back, then we might as well have to do an old-fashioned heist. Because Vader should have known better than to cross paths with me.

#nightingale #my writing

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safereturndoubtful · 2 years

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Day 34 - to north side of Pallas-Yllästunturi National Park

I awoke to the lure of the Adelaide Oval and watched a good part of the rugby Test, Australia and South Africa. The fine morning weather wasn’t going to last today though, so I took the dog into the National Park again, on the same route we had taken two days ago, but headed up along the stream. The dog’s good at following streams, of course spends most of the time in them.

Then it was into the town of Äkäslompolo to stock up at the supermarket, recycle, and fill up water.

The Finnish sale of alcohol laws are similar to Sweden but the percentage they can sell in supermarkets was elevated a couple of years ago, to 5.5%. In Sweden it’s 3.5%. It leads to the major brewers preparing beer at just those strengths.

Next door to the supermarket is the Alko, the state run hard liquor store, where you can buy alcohol, including beer, at more than 5.5%. But they are state run, so offers are limited and there is no competition.

Here’s my purchases.. apparently, the woman told me in the Alko store, the porter is traditional Finnish, dating back many hundreds of years. Sounds interesting.

I then drove an hour, or 60 kilometres, to the north side of the National Park. The road was very quiet, except for a few reindeer. I had thought they maybe a problem, as the deer on our roads tend to run across and can be a serious hazard. Here they tend to be much more aware of traffic, and rarely run, just saunter, rather like our cows and sheep on roads. Nonetheless, I don’t drive above 80 kph, even though the speed limit is 100. The smaller sealed roads, as I was on today, are single lane with passing places, as in the far north of Scotland or on the islands.

We arrived at the car park at the trailhead as the road ends just as the rain started. It had been forecast, a front coming through, most likely 4 or 5 hours. I hunkered down

Intended to the Test Match, became aware I’d missed the bigger of the two rugby internationals, and read.

The rain eased, but up here at 450 metres asl we are still in the cloud. I took the dog out briefly, then settled in to watch the final session from Old Trafford.

From previous courses in Scandinavia, two with mountain biking groups and my own ride back home from Tromso, I knew that the culture and environment suits me probably more so than anywhere I’ve been. I was aware that it might tempt me to spend more time here. Up here in the Finnish Arctic, that has certainly proved to be the case. I could certainly live here. As we head further north the scenery will be more desolate, treeless and weather-beaten, not as varied as here with its lakes (twice as many as Sweden at 200,000), forests and boulder-strewn peaks. The weather is much more serious at its extremes. It will be interesting to see if I find it as appealing.

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envisionoverseas · 3 years

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10 Things To Know Before Studying In Australia

1. There's a lot of space

The primary significant contrast I saw while showing up in Australia is that there's a ton of room, as it's a major country! I suggest whatever number of outings as could reasonably be expected to investigate however much you can as there is such a huge amount to see. The streets are wide and structures are worked out, not up, and by and large it seems like there are much less individuals.

2. College life feels exceptionally loose

Study In Australia college is organized in an unexpected way, there's undeniably less contact time with instructors. There's similarly a huge load of flexibility around module choices and retaking tests so school felt exceptionally free conversely, with the UK. The way of life around resitting tests and it not being something negative implied I performed better and felt less tension.

3. It's not difficult to make companions

You have an alternate attitude while concentrating abroad so everybody appears to be more open to making companions. I went into understudy corridors and they had an extremely amazing local area viewpoint which made making companions there simple. Lobbies were brimming with Australians and global understudies which was extraordinary, in spite of the fact that I found it a piece harder to make course companions, since everybody's doing such a combination of modules.

4. There aren't really that many bugs

Australia isn't terrifying and there aren't really that many bugs. I saw a few snakes, however nothing else, and I didn't wind up pondering the noxious creatures by any means. However, clearly don't move toward enormous, startling looking bugs! It's something every day there and not many individuals get nibbled. They have systems set up for when it occurs yet measurably it's really far-fetched.

5. Time passes quickly while you're having some good times

Time passes quickly, and I know it's not explicit to Australia but rather I wish I'd mulled over everything and done however much I could with consistently. You settle in moving to another nation and how life can change so rapidly that you can neglect to capitalize on it.

6. Individuals drink boxed wine

I wish I'd understood that students drink boxed wine, to ensure I could set myself up. Additionally, purchase spirits at the air terminal! I energetically suggest that, since liquor is costly in Australia.

7. Australia is expensive

Australia is more costly than the UK except if you've come from London, then, at that point, it's really comparative. It truly relies upon where you reside, however, as it does in any country. Lease costs are adaptable, however IGA, which is the most well-known grocery store out there, is very costly. Particularly organic products. I just didn't eat berries or grapes while concentrating abroad! Consider setting aside a few additional assets before you go in light of the fact that despite the fact that you don't pay Australian college charges, you likewise don't get a ton of additional financing from your college at home.

Read more: Study In Australia With Scholarship

8. You truly do really need to accomplish some work

The college experience I had in Australia was very equivalent to the UK as far as responsibility. It was more coursework based however, and they additionally have midterms so the evaluation is separated more. Their framework is great in light of the fact that by not passing every one of the tests to the furthest limit of the year, the tension is fanned out and you perform better. A gamble of concentrating abroad is that individuals believe it's a break or occasion. Yet, it is really examining and you must be mindful so as not to be driven adrift. Be useful and have harmony with work and play.

9. The nightlife is extraordinary

Going out in Australia is astounding. I was situated in Perth yet in addition visited Sydney, Melbourne and Adelaide and they all had great going out scenes. Rather than clubs there were more bars and local gatherings are undeniably more normal. There were a couple of clubs in Perth, however we seldom went to them. The way of life is different encompassing going out.

10. The time distinction makes you miss home

It's truly reliant upon your involvement with Australia and who you are personally, however I made that the opportunity contrast made me miss home since it makes it difficult to speak with loved ones. I would regularly start off ahead of schedule to converse with my folks. That causes you to feel like you're up until this point away. You can't nip back for the week's end like you could in Europe. I additionally missed M&S food and approaching things I was utilized to, companions and propensities I had at home which weren't something very similar in Australia.

#Study In Australia With Scholarship #Study In Australia

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sutherlandremovalsnsw · 4 years

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Moving - Tips, Tricks And Hacks For Doing Everything Better

Call moving company. Sort through toiletries. Buy new sheets. An added bonus to using the calendar method is that breaking up your tasks by day makes them seem more manageable. Also, don’t forget to add “celebrate with wine” somewhere in there to give you something to look forward to. Pay a visit to your local liquor store (that’s where you can buy the aforementioned wine) to see if they recycle their used boxes.

Just make sure the boxes are very gently worn and that you only use them to hold lightweight items like linens and towels. You don’t want to deal with ripped boxes and broken valuables on the big day. You might think your flat screen TV could withstand a 30-minute drive across town in a cardboard box, but alas, it’s a fragile piece of technology.

House & Office Moving Tips By Better Removalists Adelaide

Check to see if you stashed these boxes somewhere — attic? Garage? If you don’t have them, make a list of what you’ll need to buy or borrow to properly cushion your stuff. Quilted blankets, bubble wrap, and sturdy tape all work well to protect TVs and similarly delicate items.

Learn all of them here. How, you might ask, is one trip to the hardware store even possible? Here’s how: lists. Make one and make it really thorough and detailed. Sit down with your family, partner, or roommates and brainstorm every possible item you will need to help you get through the moving process.

25 Stress Busting Tips For Moving Day - Make Moving House Easy

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Packing tape, cardboard boxes, packing paper, extra screws, putty, a measuring tape, a new industrial-size broom, you name it. Buy it all in one big haul. Don’t forget the “just in case” items when you’re making your master hardware store list. Stock up now on extra supplies like light bulbs (check your lamps to verify the type you need), extension cords, and power strips so you’ll be set to go when you start moving things in.

Helpful Moving Tips - Arnold Property ...arnoldproperty.com.au

Make sure you leave enough time in your schedule to gather any necessary items — like cords, remotes, or cable boxes — you may need to return. If you’re relying on friends and family to help with your move, be courteous and give them a month’s notice. Do the same with babysitters for your children.

Moving House & Packing Tips - Complete Removals

33 Moving Tips That Will Make Your Life ...buzzfeed.com

17 Moving Tips and Packing Advice for ...realsimple.com

Packing little by little is far less stressful than trying to tackle it all in one day. As early as a couple months out, start packing the stuff you know you won’t be using. This can be anything from off-season clothing to books you’ve already read to mementos, pictures (here’s how to store and preserve old photographs), and keepsakes.

These pieces can be some of the trickiest to store because they’re fragile and often oddly shaped, so having a bit of extra time to figure out how to properly cushion them is crucial. Sure, your walls and mantels will look a bit stark, but when you’re running around the house a week before the move feeling like you’re about to lose your mind, you’ll be so glad your grandma’s landscape painting is already nestled in its precious bubble wrap.

Moving Checklist - Printable To-do List For When You're ...

Top Tips for Moving House with Children ...beafunmum.com

Best Packing and Moving Tips: How to ...lifestorage.com

Change your address ahead of time so your bills, credit card statements, and packages can arrive on time and without hassle. The key to finding your stuff easily is labeling all your packed boxes accurately and clearly. When you’re stacking boxes in a van or car you won’t be able to see their tops, so make sure you label the sides as well.

Label the boxes by category and by room (for example, Books, Library and Books, Bedroom) to speed up the unloading process. If you’re more of a visual learner, use color-coded electrical tape to label your boxes. Paige Smith If you want to take your box labeling a step further, create a number system.

40+ House Moving & Packing Tips To Save Your Time And ...

successful house move ...locoremovals.com.au

Write the list in a Google doc, or use a handy organizing app like Sortly, and then give the box a number. This genius strategy has two major benefits: You can go straight to box #16 with the plunger instead of digging through every “Bathroom” box just to find it.

It sounds obvious, but if you’ve ever known the struggle that is carrying a large cardboard box stuffed full of college textbooks across a parking lot, then you also know this advice cannot be overstated. Fill your small boxes with heavier items and use large boxes for light things like decorative pillows, towels, and linens (here’s how to properly clean and store your bedding).

The 109 Best Moving-tips Of All Time - Apartment Therapy

Always make sure your boxes have tops, but don’t do the interlocking fold method with the flaps of your box tops — just tape them closed. It’s much more secure this way. Flickr/Guy Kilroy Remember that packing paper you put on your master list when you stocked up on supplies at the hardware store? Use it to pad all your fragile dishware and decorative items.

Make sure you wrap each of your fragile items separately, so they’re fully cushioned. If you don’t have packing paper, opt for bubble wrap or a quilted blanket. Don’t stack your dishes horizontally inside a box. Instead, wrap your plates and bowls in packing paper, gently place them into a box on their sides like records, and then fill the empty spaces with bubble wrap to prevent cracking and breaking.

5 Best Packing Tips - How To Pack For A House Move ...

Unscrew the cap of your shampoo bottle, wrap a piece of Saran Wrap (or a Ziploc bag) over the top, and screw the cap back on. Simple and surprisingly effective. This can include toilet paper, a shower curtain, hand soap, towels, sheets, snacks, or whatever else you think you’ll need for the first day or night in your new home.

Chances are you won’t get everything unpacked in the first day, so bring whatever you need to feel relaxed and settled on your first night. A change of clothes, your toiletries, a water bottle, and your laptop can go a long way in making your new place feel more like home.

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tixstarau-blog · 5 years

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Enjoy Some Cosy And Romantic Time With Wine Tasting Tours

Timely for wine lovers everywhere, wine tours, Adelaide are the best way to experience the world. Get on the real platform of flavour all the best drinks and of course, let you practice wines the way they were intended to be endured. The action of wine tasting is simply the examination and evaluation of wine.

Today, the lot number of wine lovers chooses wine tasting tours as avenues to spend their holiday, as this activity of wind tasting tours includes having to visit the countryside where the atmosphere is more peaceful and relaxing. Wine tasting tours in most cases are in beautiful locations, frequently near the beach, in hills where grapes can grow all year round.

Wine lover go to the liquor stores

Organized tours are always inclusive of meals, wines that go with the meals, hotel rooms, transportation and the wineries to visit for the tasting sessions. Expert wine tasting tours walk into a local liquor store and will be advertised on these boards as they know that wine lovers usually go to the liquor stores. There are a few expert wirra wirra winery tours websites that will let you know where local wine tasting events will so keep a close eye out for these listing.

The wine tours Adelaide in these areas are available for a single person or for an extensive type of groups. Wine tours are typically unique opportunities for those who are experts in selecting as well as drinking fine wines. Today there are a lot of trips that accommodate these people, and these experts are typically happy to be among others who have a lot of experience about wine.

Appreciation for wine and knowledge for it

Some of the tours are set up for people with expertise, while other tours have an individual who is not grouped by their level of knowledge. Most wine tours that are located with very well organized and are open to the general public most of the year around. Wine tours are ordinarily run by wine experts that are wishing to transfer their taste for wine and their learning to others. Thus the platform of wine tours provides the best forum for them to be able to do that.

Some wineries also offer wine classes- on a wine tasting tour, offer tasting tours do so for free, and even when they charge, it is usually a nominal fee.

Some wine tasting is guided, and others are self-guided- expect to taste several wines.

#wine tours

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lesliehofftravels · 6 years

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Adelaide Central Market...

January 5, 2019

Bill researched cell phone services, and we settled on “Boost” as our phone plan. It’s $20AU (about $14USD) for each of us for a month and is prepaid.

We ventured out to take the train into Adelaide today. We walked to the “Mawson Interchange” station and boarded the train. We bought our round trip tickets on the train (about $10AU each) and had about a 25 minute ride straight into the Central Business District. We spoke with a man on the train that was trying to help us learn more about Adelaide. People here are so friendly! Going out of the train station I noticed that the escalators entries on the left side - this will take some getting used to.

Our trip took us to the Federal Hall that houses the famous Central Market. It was buzzing with lots of people shopping for the amazing produce, fish, nuts, and meats (including kangaroo), etc. There were lots of places to eat, and it was very crowded. We found a place to get a veganized pizza. Afterwards, we went into an organic booth where I was very excited to find an assortment of dried beans, ground flaxseed, and spices. I went to the bathroom on the way out, and noticed that their stalls that are occupied, have the word “engaged” on the lock.

We walked around the lakes in the evening, it was a bit cool. There were birds, ducks, pelicans, and people, all enjoying the evening. On our way back we decided to look for a bottle of wine. We ended up at a “drive-through” on foot. It was really funny and we had no problems buying, even though we didn’t have wheels. Liquor stores here are called “bottle shops”. Cheers!

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wrestlewriting · 8 years

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Insolence, Pt. 11 [Adam Cole]

Title: Insolence, Part Eleven of ? (Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten)

Characters: Adam Cole/OC(Brenna)

Genre: Fluff. Sexy Times.

Length: ~4,800

Warnings: Language. Somewhat rated-M shenanigans (what?! Yes! It’s true!)

Summary/Inspo: “No star is ever lost we once have seen; we always may be what we might have been.” - Adelaide Anne Procter

“Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time. It’s easy. All you need is love.” - The Beatles

@catie-kaboom @libby-rose-2016 @legitlunatic @valeonmars @superkixbaybay @danapotterwwe @alexahood21 @rollinstrash @covergirlcollarbones @hiitsmecharlie @tearsropsandtiedye @thedeboniardevistation @ily-zaddy @wweismyguiltypleasure @darwarsnoam @bulletbaybay @megan-monroe @pjanina13

AUTHOR NOTE: I am sooooo not a smut writer. But here’s my loving attempt at it all the same. So this isn’t really smut but like, happy sexy times? (Please, 1000x over, let me know your thoughts on this one! So out of my comfort zone. Also, just in general, what’s up? Good stuff? Only a chapter or two left sooo…..)

These are the days we’ve been waiting for. Neither of us knows what’s in store. You just roll your window down and place your bets. These are the days we won’t regret. These are the days we will never forget!

“So what exactly are we doing?” Adam inquired, watching you from the doorway of the bathroom as you did your hair; two braids coming from the front, meeting at the back of your head, where you were pinning them to rest over your hair that was down.

“Regretting letting me plan today?” you asked, throwing a coy but mocking smile at him quickly, before focusing back on your appearance.

“Nah, I’m sure you’re not getting me killed or anything,” he stated with a chuckle, leaning against the door-frame.

“You don’t know that,” you argued, looking at him through the mirror. “I could totally have gotten in contact with the mob already. Or Jay.”

“…too soon,” Adam grumbled, making you giggle. “Can we not talk about him?”

“We’re gonna have to face it eventually,” you pointed out, finishing with your hair, turning to face him.

“Yea, eventually. But not now. Today and tomorrow…this is us, just us, OK?”

“Got it,” you agreed, walking to him, standing up straight to kiss him briefly “You and me.”

“You and me.”

“Now let’s go so I can date the hell out of you,” you declared, causing him to laugh outright, as you walked past him out of the bathroom.

“Oh, is that what this is?” he asked amused, turning and watching you as you grabbed your shoes, and sat down on the bed to put them on.

“Yes,” you answered, tying your red low top shoes. “Because we did this whole thing ass backwards.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” he conceded. “But we also haven’t exactly had time with each other that didn’t also involve work.”

“Well, now we do. So we’re gonna be normal,” you explained, standing up. You fixed the flowy black shirt you were wearing, which was over a light pair of jean capris. Adam was similarly dressed in a jeans and a t-shirt. Las Vegas wasn’t sweltering at this time in the day, but it was warm enough for you to just bring a light sweater and be fine.

After getting back from the show last night, the both of you had realized you hadn’t made actual plans for the next two days. So it had been determined, with a coin toss, that you would be in charge of today’s activities, and Adam was to plan tomorrow.

This morning you had slept in together, enjoying a lazy morning in bed with the TV. Adam had, courteously, kept his own hotel room booked for the days, but you were happy to wake up beside him, and told him as much.

Once the day had turned to afternoon, you went downstairs to the hotel restaurant for lunch. It was just shy of 4PM now, and you were finally heading out for the other activities you’d chosen. Which you were keeping secret from Adam.

Though, to be fair, he hadn’t told you what he planned for tomorrow.

Making sure you both had any needed items from the room, you went downstairs and out to the car. Adam, begrudgingly, let you drive. You had to give him points for thinking you’d let him and he could figure out the plans that way.

Las Vegas traffic was a bitch, even later on a Sunday. But you eventually arrived to your pre-planned destination. The same venue you’d had Ring of Honor shows at this weekend; Sam Town’s Live.

“…what?” Adam asked, his eyes scanning over the building. “We’ve been here for the last two nights. Why are we back?”

“How many times have we been here, like in total?” you responded, parking the car.

“I don’t know. Probably ten? Maybe?”

“And none of those times did any of us ever do any of the fun stuff that’s here,” you specified. “We’ve talked about it on plenty of occasions, just never did it.” The two of you got out of the vehicle, meeting at the trunk. “So, we’re gonna see a movie and get dinner and then I am so kicking your ass at bowling.”

“You are taking this ‘normal’ date plan very seriously,” Adam observed with a chuckle. You just grinned cheekily at him, took his hand, and made sure he was coming along with you into the building.

You found it was easier to just be you when it was only Adam. There was no worrying over what others thought or said or saw. There was little opportunity for your mind to go elsewhere. Adam was engaging, fun, entirely aware of you…you’d forgotten part of that somewhere along the way it seemed. But if you thought about it, it was what attracted you to him. Your friendship way back when had started with him because of these things.

Adam was beyond excited that you’d picked the movie Fist Fight to see. You giggled at his enthusiasm, and internally praised yourself for the choice. To be fair, it was also a movie you wanted to see.

It was about 6PM when you left the theater, still laughing and going over your favorite parts of the movie. You grabbed dinner at the in-building steakhouse, which was full of genuine catching up with one another; talk of each other’s families, Adam asking about your other job, you asking about his recent time in Japan, and his upcoming trip to England.

By the time you headed over to the bowling alley, a couple hours later, you were slightly tipsy. Not drunk, but feeling a bit looser.

The man working the counter was a big wrestling fan you found out. So after some talking, a couple autographs and pictures, he gave you what would essentially be free games for the night. After many assurances it wasn’t necessary, and then thanks, you headed over to get your bowling shoes.

“How come they haven’t made cuter shoes by now?”

“I don’t know,” Adam answered, picking up his pair from the counter.

“Like, this does not match my outfit, at all,” you disapproved.

“Well, that’s the joy of bowling, isn’t it? You get to wear stupid shoes and throw things at other things,” he detailed, as you finally reached your assigned lane.

“I do like throwing things,” you conceded almost dreamily, causing him to chuckle. Sitting down on one of the plastic benches, stowing your purse underneath, you took off your shoes and put on the tan and red shoes.

“Do I look good, or do I look good?” you asked jokingly, standing up and striking a dramatic pose to show off your temporary footwear.

“Sexiest you’ve ever looked,” Adam established.

The first two games went by quickly, leaving you each with one win. Jokes and trash talk were exchanged throughout. Adam attempted to distract you by sneaking up behind you, and you attempted to throw him off his game by teasingly pulling up your shirt a few inches.

“I will return with more drinks,” you decided, kissing his cheek, and standing up after the second game had ended, and the waitress circling around hadn’t been seen in a while.

“Alright,” Adam said, and you could feel his gaze on you as you walked away.

Making your way to the bar, you leaned your forearms against it, waiting for the bartender to notice you. She was currently filling a larger order, so you knew it would take a moment. In the interim, you let your eyes scan around, casually people watching. Vegas sure brought out an eclectic grouping of people; from families to couples to girls getting drunk together, to dudes trying to hit on those girls. It was an interesting mixture, and entertaining to observe.

“Who knew a Sunday night would be so busy?” Looking over, you found a man standing beside you. He was cute enough, in the conventional preppy-boy style; wearing a graphic tee and jeans. He had to be in his mid-20s you figured, around your age.

“Vegas never sleeps,” you replied.

“Can’t really blame it,” he stated. “It’s not for a lack of anything to do.”

“This is true,” you agreed, your eyes trying to catch that of the bartender’s.

“Are you here on vacation?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I’m Nate,” he introduced himself.

“Nice to meet you.”

“No name for you?”

“I’m a mystery,” you identified, your voice monotone. You could chit-chat with the best of them, if their intentions seemed innocent or sweet. But something in this man’s posture, presentation, told you he wasn’t either of these things. And that made him unwelcome to you.

“I bet I can figure you out,” Nate decreed, suggestively. You continued to stare at the bartender, in hopes she’d come over soon.

Thankfully, she did. You ordered another round of liquor for you and Adam, watching as she walked off to make the drinks.

“Didn’t take you for a vodka girl,” Nate commented.

“Eavesdropping is rude,” you highlighted.

“Feisty.” You had to work very hard to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes, and giving him a piece of your mind. “Don’t girls usually like their cute little mixed drinks?”

“Anyone can like a good mixed drink whenever they choose to,” you explained, your tone biting. “I don’t recall drink menus coming with gender assignments.”

“Hey.” Adam’s voice was music to your ears. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself, you had for years. But backup was always welcomed. Especially when you just weren’t in the mood to handle pushy men.

“Hi,” you turned you hip against the bar, allowing him to come to your side, an arm going around your waist. You didn’t miss that his kiss was a little bit more possessive than usual. You guessed he’d been watching you at the bar, and had read the situation the same way you had.

“Have you even ordered yet?” Adam inquired.

“Yes.”

“Good.” From the corner of your eye, you noticed the scowl on Nate’s face beside you. Adam turned his gaze to the man, and you could almost feel the cockiness, protectiveness, radiating from him. “Hey, man.”

“Hey,” the other reciprocated. “Busy night, huh?”

“Definitely,” Adam granted, his stare never leaving Nate’s. “But my girlfriend and I are having fun all the same.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his statement.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Nate, begrudgingly, said. “Well, keep enjoying your night.”

“You too,” Adam replied, before coming closer to the bar, turning himself enough to keep Nate from being able to fully see you. The bartender came back a moment later with your drinks, each of you picking up yours. You took a long drink from the glass.

“Girlfriend, huh?” you questioned, looking up at Adam. He appeared unfazed on the surface about your inquiry, but his eyes told a different story.

“Too far?”

“Just right,” you ensured, kissing him shortly, before walking away and back to the lane you had been assigned. Honestly, you were still trying to process through his sudden declaration and use of defined terms for what you were. While you appreciated it, liked it, you still hadn’t expected it. It did sound nice to hear. But was it too much? Too soon?

Not seconds later did you feel Adam’s hand on your hip, stopping you from punching in for your third game to start on the computer.

“Bren, I’m serious,” he stated, his voice close to your ear, as you set your drink down on the table. “I need you to tell me if that was too far.”

Apparently Insecure Adam was making another, rare, appearance. It would probably never cease to surprise you any time you heard worry or uncertainty in his tone. But you preferred this to Insolent Adam any day of the week.

“Do you regret saying it?”

“What? No.”

“Then…what’s the issue?” You turned yourself enough to face him. “You told me you weren’t messing around with me. And I’m clearly not looking to be with anyone else. So…what else would we call this? Friends with benefits?”

“…what benefits?”

“Don’t be an ass,” you demanded, causing the suggestive smirk to fall from his face after his ill-timed joked.

“Hey, Bren, you’re right,” Adam conceded gently. “I just…don’t want you to think I’m pushing you towards something you’re not ready for.”

“I’ve literally told my best friends to get fucked. I’m in Vegas alone with you. These are my choices,” you confirmed. “I know I haven’t been the best at being open about what I want and what’s in my head before. But I’m trying to be better. I’m trying to not second-guess and hesitate and worry. I’m trying to just do what feels right.”

“And this does?”

“Do you think I would be here if it didn’t?” you challenged.

“No.”

“So, then, boyfriend, can we get back to me kicking your ass at bowling?”

“We’re tied.”

“Not for long.”

Before you could turn back to the lane screen, Adam pulled you to him, kissing you. It wasn’t deep in the physical sense, but you knew it was meaningful. He needed you to feel, know, he meant this. There was now structure, titles, boundaries, instilled in your relationship. While part of you was still very nervous, the other part of you was thrilled. And you were trying your best to let the happy part overshadow anything else.

“My date today is gonna be so better than yours.”

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t decide what you wanted to be more offended by; the fact that he thought he had a better plan than you, or that he basically implied your date day had been bad.

“I’m just sayin’,” he shrugged, grinning over at you. You didn’t smile back.

“So yesterday sucked then?”

“What? No.”

“Then explain yourself.”

“I had fun yesterday, of course I did. I didn’t mean… I was just joking, Jesus,” he finally got out, looking entirely uncomfortable under your stare.

“Mmhmm,” you murmured, looking him up and down once, before turning to gaze out the cab’s window. You struggled to keep the smile from coming to your face as you felt him glancing over at you. Giving Adam a hard time was quickly becoming a new hobby for you. When he took your hand in his, lifting it to kiss the back of it, you broke and let out a giggle.

Your day had been another lazy one. Another lunch in the hotel. An afternoon nap. Some day-drinks in the hotel room.

Now that you found yourself driving away from the hotel, you already had a good idea that his plans for the night were far different than yours. The fact that he had told you to wear the short ruffled nude-gold dress and heels gave enough away to tell you that you wouldn’t be hanging at a bowling alley and bar tonight.

So when you pulled up to the Mirage hotel, you weren’t entirely shocked. But you were still very curious as to what you’d be doing here.

Adam was quick to take care of the cab and lead you in to the hotel. It was beautiful inside, you had to say; full of trees and different places to veer off to. You followed beside Adam into the hotel and along the side, arriving at a restaurant called Japonais. It was darker in atmosphere; mysterious, sexy, cool.

The hostess sat the two of you quickly, at a small table against the wall further inside. Within moments a waiter came over to welcome you, as well as take your drink order. You felt adventurous, trying one of their specialty cocktails, while Adam had settled on a Japanese beer.

Dinner was incredibly enjoyable. The food, specifically sushi, was amazing; the conversation flowing with ease. You and Adam spoke about your dreams for your careers, you worries about accomplishing these things. Hopes for your lives beyond wrestling; kids a desire for the both of you, along with a quiet suburban life.

You realized how many things you had known about him before, and how many you still had to learn.

Adam eventually informed you that you needed to leave to make the next event he had planned, which came sooner than you anticipated. Time had seemingly flown during dinner. Downing your third drink, he paid, before you headed back out in to the hotel. Walking with your arm tucked in to his, you eventually came upon a theater.

The words ‘The Beatles, Cirque Du Soleil’ read across the marquee.

“Adam, oh my god,” you gasped, taking in the large British flag projected on the ceiling above you.

“I figured you’d like this.”

“You should like it too,” you resolved, looking to him.

“It’s The Beatles. Who the hell doesn’t like The Beatles?”

“Fair,” you said with a giggle. Pulling him closer, you stood up straight to kiss him lightly a few times. “This is awesome. Thank you.”

“Anything to see you happy.” A blush came to your face almost instantly at his declaration. After giving your tickets, you made your way to your seats, to enjoy the show.

The show ended up being incredible. Every part of it amazed you. While you were fairly athletic as a wrestler, acrobats took the cake as far as flexibility and physical skill. You wished you could do many of the things they did. The music, the colors, the movements…it was absolutely breathtaking.

It ended far too soon in your opinion. You could have watched hours and hours more of it.

Adam guided you out of the theater, and back into the hotels’ atrium. He took you over to one of the bars, which was surrounded by palm trees and other bits of outdoorsy-décor. Sitting at a table, a waiter came over and took your drink orders.

You gushed to Adam about the show over drinks, how much you had enjoyed the entire experience, the entire night to be honest. Conversation changed to other topics; other bands you loved, concerts you’d been to, concerts you wanted to go to. Drinks continued to come, as topics in your talks changed to movies and friends and places you wanted to travel to.

A loud collection of people broke your concentration on one another as they made their way in to the bar just shy of midnight. Based on the short white dress, and the sloppy way a man hung on her, kissing her, you had one guess as to what had happened.

“I can’t believe people actually do that,” you commented, watching the couple giddily ordering drinks at the bar with their friends, some of their loud voices commenting on the ‘crazy wedding’ that had just occurred.

“To each their own,” Adam shrugged, looking amused at the drunken party of people. “How come you and Evan never got married?”

“Didn’t get around to it,” you replied, taking a strong drink from your glass, as he faced you again. The mention of your former love, surprisingly, didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. “We didn’t want it to be all crazy and stressful, more than it had to be anyways. So we were just waiting for, I guess, my life and career to settle a bit. It never mattered to us though. I called him my husband more often than not.”

“You guys were engaged for a while….”

“Almost three years,” you clarified. “We waited until he was done with college for that part. But like I said, it just wasn’t a huge thing for us that we felt we had to do. We were together, everything was good as it was. Words and titles and legalities weren’t important then.”

“I genuinely didn’t know you guys weren’t married more than once,” Adam stated, causing a bittersweet grin to come to your face.

“A lot of people didn’t; still don’t probably. It just got easier to tell people we were than explain what we actually were. I mean, I didn’t even wear my ring a lot because I was always afraid of losing it on the road.”

“You do lose things, a lot.”

“So much,” you admitted, with a laugh. “Ya know, I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to talk about exes on dates.”

“…we’re really shitty at this.”

“The worst,” you grinned, and after a pause, spoke again. “So, Kelsey….”

“Ha, fucking, ha,” Adam muttered, taking his own long drink from his glass.

“Kidding!” You smiled widely at him, causing him to give you a fake, short smirk of his own, before a genuine smile came to his lips. The conversation fell off for a minute, as you each sipped more at your drinks. While it had been easy to talk about Evan, and joke about Adam’s past relationship, you knew that it also brought up feelings for both of you. Things that didn’t really need to be relevant right now. Things that shouldn’t be bothered with at this time.

“So, good couple days?”

“Great couple days,” you corrected, grateful for the subject change. “I needed this. We needed this.”

“Yea,” Adam agreed, his eyes catching yours. “I’m not ready for it to end, honestly.”

“We’ve still got tonight…and the morning,” you replied, biting at your lip. You knew your statement held promise, suggestion.

It was intentional.

“Let me know when you’re ready to head back,” he offered, his tone equally indicative of more to come.

“After this drink?”

“Sounds good.”

There was a solid chance you put some hurry into finishing your liquor. After closing out the tab, Adam tucked you into his side, heading out front to get a cab. Throughout the ride back to your hotel, you stayed against his side, your hand resting on his thigh.

Heading up to your room seemed to take longer than you wanted.

As soon as the door was closed, you had your shoes off, kicked somewhere against the wall. You reached behind yourself, sloppily tugging at the zipper on your dress.

“Help me,” you pouted, looking over your shoulder at Adam, who was slowly making his way in to the room, observing you. After toeing off his shoes, he eventually came to you, his hands gently pulling down the zipper, exposing your back to him.

Turning towards him, you immediately put your hands on his cheeks, pulling him into a strong kiss. Adam seemed to take a second to take stock of the situation, before his hands rested against your hips, pulling you flush against him.

It was barely moments before the kiss turned to tongue and teeth, emotion and urgency flowing between the two of you.

“Bren….” Your name was practically a breath from him as he parted slightly from you.

“Adam, don’t,” you requested, your hands slowly sliding down his shoulders, his torso, stopping as they met the waistband of his pants. “If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t do this. You have to know that by now.”

“…I do,” he assured. “I just….”

“Don’t turn in to a gentleman now,” you smirked.

“I will always be that way to you,” Adam affirmed, his seriousness catching you off guard.

“…I know,” you recovered. “Which is why I’m confident in this. I trust you. I’m safe with you, right?”

“Always.”

“Then kiss me. And get this dress off of me,” you declared, your fingers curling into his belt, pulling him further into you. “Trust me when I say I want this.”

Instead of replying, Adam placed his mouth against yours. You had enough sense about you to reciprocate the action, your mouths opening quickly, tongues meeting the others. You felt his hands move up to the straps of your dress, pushing them down your arms, letting the material fall down your body.

Trying to keep things equal, you had your hands working open his belt within a moment, unbuttoning his pants, causing them to hang loosely on his hips. You let go of him, and moved your arms out of your dress, the clothing bunching at your hips. Adam moved his hands to continue pushing your dress down, as you put your hands so they cradled his jaw, pressing his lips closer into yours. You barely acknowledged the feeling of your dress falling to your feet, but you stepped out of it all the same, leaving you in just your lingerie.

While his mouth traveled down your cheek to your neck, you worked at unbuttoning his shirt. It seemed to happen far faster than you could comprehend; he slid out of his shirt, you got off your bra, he moved you so the back of your legs met the bed. He made sure you were eventually on your back, your feet just dangling over the edge of the mattress. Adam was above you quickly, his lips working smoothly down your chest, to your stomach.

When his kisses made it below your belly button, you stopped him, with a hand to his head gently, your stomach flexing tightly.

“…don’t,” you murmured, causing his eyes to come up and meet yours, his breath hot against your skin. “Don’t.”

“Sweetheart….”

“I just want you right now.”

Pushing yourself up onto your elbows, you guided Adam back up to meet you in a kiss. Gliding your hands down as far as you could, you pushed at his pants that were still hanging on to his body. He lifted himself from the bed, finishing what you started, leaving himself naked. Reaching towards you, he gently pulled at your panties, sliding them down your legs, leaving you equally exposed.

Your breath caught as you realized the situation. This had gotten really real. And as much as you wanted this, you couldn’t help but feel a miniscule amount of hesitance. This was a significant step, for you personally, and for the both of you in this relationship.

“Hey,” Adam got your attention, sensing your mood as he settled himself above you, causing your eyes to go to his. “It’s me, Bren.”

“That’s the issue,” you chuckled humorlessly. “How the fuck did you get so into my head?”

“Because I wanted to,” Adam stated. “But mostly because you let me.”

With that, and a high-pressured kiss, you felt him finally slide his way into you. It had been over a year now since you’d last had sex, and your body was certainly reminding your brain of that as he entered you. You knew the alcohol was dulling some of your feelings, but you were highly aware all the same.

What you knew, above it all, was that you did want this. And really, really liked this. Adam had the good grace to pause a moment, but when you let out a breath, he stopped being still. He felt really good moving within you, and when he put his thumb on your clit, you immediately arched up in to him, a moan bubbling up your throat.

“Shit,” you hummed, your nails involuntarily biting in to the skin of his shoulder.

“Yea?”

“Yes,” you gasped, screwing your eyes shut, as he increased the movement of his thumb. His lips found your neck again as you met him thrust for thrust.

You never wanted to forget what this felt like. You felt warm, tingly, all over; pleasantly taut physically but relaxed emotionally. Adam’s mouth on you, hands on you, body on you…you felt wanted, safe, cherished.

God, he was good.

“Bren…” his voice was broken, lust-loaded, as he came back up to kiss you deeply.

“Adam,” you practically whimpered.

“I got you, gorgeous,” he comforted, pushing in deeper somehow.

It was minutes later you felt your core tightening, as your hips pushed up firmly against his. Adam finished not too long after.

After each of you caught your breath, Adam moved himself to your side, your shoulders pressed against each other’s. Your heart was still beating fast, and you still felt small tingles trickling through your body. Adam seemed equally effected still beside you.

“Fuck,” you realized, breaking the silence. “I totally just put out after only the second date.”

“Slut.”

“Right back atcha,” you asserted. Adam laughed, turning his head, to which you moved your own, meeting his eyes.

“You were right; we’re shit at this.”

“At least we’re in it together?”

“Exactly,” he concurred. You couldn’t help but giggle, as a smile formed on Adam’s face. He moved closer, kissing you gently, before pulling you into his side, your head going to his chest.

This had been a busy two days. A lot have been done, a lot of been discussed, and a lot had changed. You were in a relationship. With a really good person. In spite of all the changes and what such things usually did to you, you felt calm. Content. Happy. You didn’t feel questioning and panicky like you tended to do.

This felt…right.

You never wanted to leave the bubble you’d made in Vegas with Adam.

I never saw it happening. I’d given up and given in. I just couldn’t take the hurt again - What a feeling. I didn’t have the strength to fight. Suddenly, you seemed so right. Me and you - What a feeling. What a feeling in my soul - Love burns brighter than sunshine. It’s brighter than sunshine.

Let the rain fall, I don’t care. I’m yours, and suddenly you’re mine. Suddenly, you’re mine.

UPDATE: Chapter Twelve is up.

#adam cole imagine #adam cole fanfic #adam cole fan fiction #adam cole fan fic #wrestling imagine #wrestling fan fiction #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fan fic #roh imagine #roh fanfic #Adam Cole

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 3 years

Photo

“Jail For Ring Theft,” Toronto Star. April 8, 1941. Page 02. ----- ‘B’ Police Court, at the City Hall, Magistrate Gullen Appearing for sentence on a joint charge of theft of eight diamond rings, property of a downtown jewelry store, Joseph Iseman was sentenced to six months and Gordon D. O’Neill to three months.

Last week Thos. Philpot, 17, charged with assaulting E. G. Sampson, a member of the air force, stated he had no knowledge of doing so and claimed he had been taken home drunk that night and had been seen by two members of the military police in his bed, and his bands had borne no marks of injury.

‘He will be sentenced to 30 days,’ said Magistrate Gullen.

When it was explained that Eliott Porter, a soldier, had merely jumped on a stolen bicycle, left leaning against a Queen St. W. hotel early April 4, on a dare that he couldn’t ride, the charge was dismissed. The young soldier, a native of Bridgeport, Conn., showed the court his honorable discharge from the U.S. army.

‘You will go to jail for seven days, your car will be impounded for three months, and your driving permit cancelled for three months,’ his worship told George Edward Ball, convicted of driving an auto on Robinson St. last night while he was intoxicated. ---- DRIVER FINED $110 --- ‘D’ Police Court at the City Hall, Magistrate Browne. ‘He said he just drove around the block and didn’t remember hitting anything,’ testified O.C. Holden. ‘He had been drinking.’

The officer was testifying in the case of M. H. Michelborough on three charges. Two witnesses swore he struck a parked car on Duplex Ave. March 23, and then drove away.

‘I think he was too drunk to know where he was,’ declared Magistrate Browne. Accused, who pleaded guilty to all charges, was fined $50 and costs or 30 days for careless driving, $50 or 30 days for failing to remain at the scene of an accident, and $10 or 10 days for not hvaing a driver’s license.

‘I asked him what happened, and he said he had nothing to worry about because he new saw the man,’ declared P. C. Wright of Floyd Graham. he was charged with dangerous driving as a the result of an accident Jan. 12, when Sam Harper, T. T.C. switchman, was injured at King and Church Sts. Harper is still in hospital.

P. C. Wright said the traffic light was red. ‘There was a strong odor of liquro on accused’s breath,’ he added.

Accused was convicted and remanded in custody to April 10 for sentence.

--- ‘STRAIGHT LINE TO PEN’ --- County Police Court, Adelaide St., Magistrate Keith. ‘You’re heading in a straight line for Kingston penitentiary,’ warned Crown Counsel Malone as Teddy Rowe, pleaded guilty to two charges of theft and two charges of breaking and entering. He was remanded to April 15 for sentence. James Alex Duncan, 16, charged with Rowe, pleaded guilty to two charges of theft and one of breaking and entering, and was remanded to April 5 for sentence.

Guerney Haggert pleaded guilty of having liquro after being prohibited by the Liquor Control board. He was fined $50 and costs or 30 days.

#toronto #police court #theft #jewelry theft #jewel thief #stolen jewelry #break and enter #assault #canadian soldiers #stolen bicycles #drunk driving #dangerous driving #remand prisoners #sentenced to prison #ontario reformatory #canada during world war 2 #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada

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wineanddinosaur · 4 years

Text

A Deep Dive Into the Many, Verifiably False Claims of ‘Clean Wine’ Companies

The light striking the courtyard’s sandstone walls gave a golden haze to the evening. Guests seated at wooden benches chatted quietly, enjoying plates of fresh summer food.

But there was nothing welcoming about the server. “There is nothing wrong with the wine,” she said, loudly enough for heads to turn.

My boyfriend and I had just arrived in Germany and were having a romantic dinner. I’d ordered a glass of Spätburgunder, the local Pinot Noir.

But when I raised the glass, all I smelled was moldy dishrag. It wasn’t exactly like TCA, the compound responsible for cork taint, but what else could do that to a wine? I quietly asked for another glass.

“If you want another, you’ll have to pay for both,” said the woman.

I felt my face flush. “It’s corked.”

She marched back into the bar at a rapid clip and came back, bearing the bottle. It had a screwcap, not a cork.

“There is no cork taint in that wine,” she said. By now, everyone was staring. We finished our dinner at top speed, feeling the sting of public humiliation. When the bill came, it included the musty red wine, as promised.

Later, a wine writer told me that the wine came from a difficult, wet vintage. “Some people bottled rotten grapes,” he said.

Coming from Australia, where wineries pride themselves on technical perfection, it was a shock. But in the next few years, I encountered lots of wine problems, particularly at European wine competitions, where many wines with “off” smells or flavors would appear.

That was 14 years ago. Since then, world wine quality has skyrocketed to the point that faulty wines are rare. Not only are even the cheapest wines well made, there’s a stunning diversity of styles and grapes available.

Yet at the very moment that wine quality is through the roof, ads are appearing across social media claiming that wine is suspect. “Clean wine” marketers compete to create memes about how terrifying wine is; one will post that people should count chemicals, not calories, and the next will claim that wine has “250 commonly added additives” (false). My favorite is the skeleton clutching a wine bottle. “Mass produced wines are scary!” says the caption. Over on Facebook, ads show white sugar being dumped into a wine glass.

Where are all these lurid wine tales wine coming from?

A dive into social media reveals they’re coming from people with wine to sell; on Instagram, the memes are often the work of Scout & Cellar consultants, who take a commission on the “Clean-Crafted” wine they sell. The Facebook ads showcasing wine glasses with sugar are from Dry Farm Wines, an online store selling natural wines.

It’s marketing by disparagement, but the claims are difficult to rebut because of Brandolini’s Law: “The amount of energy needed to refute bullshit is an order of magnitude bigger than to produce it.”

But here goes.

The first way to cast doubt on something is to position it as all or nothing. Here, the implication is that if you’re not drinking their wines, then you’re drinking industrial, factory-made products. These marketers avoid mentioning that wine is a joyfully diverse category, offering everything from homogenous, focus-group-tested products to handmade, artisanal wines — and everything in between.

Second, while wine is a natural product, it’s also a marvel of complex chemistry. Because most people associate chemistry with industrial sorcery, it’s easy to freak them out by calling something by its scientific name. Wine lovers who are used to hearing about beneficial chemicals like polyphenols can be shocked by references to ammonium phosphate — until they find out its other name is “yeast food.”

ADDITIVES

So how many additives are there? If you include processing aids, which don’t stay in the final wine, there are 69, including elements found naturally in the grape. The register is being updated right now; some vegan fining aids are being added. Ferrocyanide, which Scout & Cellar claims is a common additive, is being removed. Not only does nobody use it, it’s not even available on the market.

Just because something is listed doesn’t mean it’s used, because winemakers prefer to let the grapes speak for themselves.

SUGAR

Another way to introduce doubt about any product is to claim it’s full of added sugar.

There are only really two times when sugar can legally be added to wine. The first is chaptalization, when limited amounts can be poured into fermentation vats to get higher alcohols. The technique was traditionally used in cold climates like Champagne and Burgundy, but it’s becoming redundant thanks to climate change. Chaptalization is illegal in California.

Sugar is also added by anyone using the Champagne method to make a sparkling wine; along with yeast, it’s what gets a secondary fermentation going. Otherwise, sugar can’t be added.

MEGA PURPLE

One ingredient that is legal in California is grape concentrate, which adds sweetness and color to red wines; using ‘teinturier’ or black-juiced varieties like Alicante Bouschet to add color is a very old technique that was still used in Europe in the 1970s.

Today there is a commercial concentrate available called Mega Purple, which has become a shorthand for mass-market, confected red wines; it’s not a winemaking tool that serious winemakers use, and it’s illegal in EU appellations, where nothing can be added to change the essential nature of the wine.

COLOR DYES

Adding dyes to wines? Illegal.

SULFITES

Sulfites are used to preserve and protect wine from bacteria, spoilage, and oxidation. While the legal limit in the U.S. is 350 milligrams per liter, the average is well under 100 milligrams per liter. According to Wired, the FDA identified sulfites as an allergen in 1986, “and that’s how the hysteria over sulfites in wine started,” with people blaming sulfites in wine for headaches; no definitive link has ever been established.

PESTICIDES

Pesticides — both synthetic and the copper sulphate used by organic growers — are indeed sprayed on grapes to prevent rot and mildew; the application and timing are regulated to ensure as little residue as possible by the time the fruit is picked. One of the world’s biggest wine buyers, the Liquor Control Board of Ontario, has its own laboratory and tests every wine that enters the province for heavy metals and pesticides. Thousands of these wines come from the United States, including many of the big, commercial wine brands. “From the 22,600 wines tested in 2019-2020,” a press officer wrote to me, only 20 exceeded the LCBO’s limits. For the math uninclined, that’s less than one-tenth of 1 percent — hardly skull-and-crossbones-worthy quantities.

GMO YEASTS

Dry Farm Wines claims: “Instead of native yeasts found on vines, US wine companies use genetically modified (GMO) yeasts during fermentation.” While GMO yeasts are illegal in the EU, there are two GMO yeasts that winemakers in North America could theoretically use — except that neither is on the market any longer. The man who developed them, Professor Hennie van Vuuren of the University of British Columbia Wine Research Centre, is now retired. He wrote to me that he engineered one of the yeast strains to “prevent the production of ethyl carbamate, a carcinogen present in wines,” and the other to prevent the production of allergens during fermentation, because “I am allergic to bioamines in wines and I love wine.”

ALCOHOL

Dry Farm Wines might claim that its wines are “Hangover-Free,” but no such thing exists. If it’s wine, then it’s capable of giving you a hangover if you drink too much. That’s an undisputed fact.

ALLERGIC REACTIONS

Biogenic amines, the compounds almost single-handedly responsible for most wine conspiracy theories, are sometimes produced as a byproduct of fermentation — ironically, the thing that can stop them is sulfites.

Many people who get involved with “clean wine” companies tell origin stories that go like this: They used to drink wine with no problem, until they suddenly noticed that a single glass or two was making them feel sick and headache-y. After reading up about winemaking, they realized it was all the additives and toxins in the wine making them feel lousy — and they then resolved to start selling pure, clean wine (sound familiar?).

The true culprit is generally either the alcohol or the biogenic amines, one of which is histamine; others include the fabulously named putrescine and cadaverine. They’re also found in some foods, like charcuterie, cheese, vinegar, spinach, and tomatoes, among others, and it’s the cumulative effect of ingesting them that causes problems.

“The way I describe it to consumers is that you have an internal limit or threshold for a chemical compound such as histamine — everybody’s threshold is different,” says pharmacologist Dr. Creina Stockley of the University of Adelaide in Australia. One day you might be eating food with histamines and feel fine, “but on the second day, you have a glass of wine which raises your level of histamine above the threshold, and you can feel unwell. Because wine was the last food you were exposed to, you automatically blame the wine.”

The real problem with wine isn’t that it’s full of toxins (apart from alcohol) but that there’s almost nothing on the label to indicate how it’s been made. This will change in the next five years, as ingredient labelling is coming to the EU by end of 2022, which will push other wine-producing countries to follow suit.

In the meantime, anybody interested in low-intervention wine has a whole world of artisanal and natural wine to choose from — and you don’t have to buy them from someone using scare tactics as a sales technique. If anybody approaches you trying to sell you “clean” or “clean-crafted” wine, ask them to tell you exactly how it was made. Because if it’s not a natural wine, then it was made using additives — and if they can’t tell you what those are? They have something to hide.

To get hold of a bottle of delicious, low-intervention wine, just ask your local independent retailer for recommendations. If there really is something wrong with the wine, like cork taint, you have the right to take it back. But the chances of a bad bottle are, fortunately, extremely rare these days.

The article A Deep Dive Into the Many, Verifiably False Claims of ‘Clean Wine’ Companies appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/clean-wine-false-claims/

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johnboothus · 4 years

Text

A Deep Dive Into the Many Verifiably False Claims of Clean Wine Companies

The light striking the courtyard’s sandstone walls gave a golden haze to the evening. Guests seated at wooden benches chatted quietly, enjoying plates of fresh summer food.

But there was nothing welcoming about the server. “There is nothing wrong with the wine,” she said, loudly enough for heads to turn.

My boyfriend and I had just arrived in Germany and were having a romantic dinner. I’d ordered a glass of Spätburgunder, the local Pinot Noir.

“If you want another, you’ll have to pay for both,” said the woman.

I felt my face flush. “It’s corked.”

She marched back into the bar at a rapid clip and came back, bearing the bottle. It had a screwcap, not a cork.

Later, a wine writer told me that the wine came from a difficult, wet vintage. “Some people bottled rotten grapes,” he said.

Where are all these lurid wine tales wine coming from?

But here goes.

ADDITIVES

Just because something is listed doesn’t mean it’s used, because winemakers prefer to let the grapes speak for themselves.

SUGAR

Another way to introduce doubt about any product is to claim it’s full of added sugar.

Sugar is also added by anyone using the Champagne method to make a sparkling wine; along with yeast, it’s what gets a secondary fermentation going. Otherwise, sugar can’t be added.

MEGA PURPLE

COLOR DYES

Adding dyes to wines? Illegal.

SULFITES

PESTICIDES

GMO YEASTS

ALCOHOL

ALLERGIC REACTIONS

The article A Deep Dive Into the Many, Verifiably False Claims of ‘Clean Wine’ Companies appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/clean-wine-false-claims/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/a-deep-dive-into-the-many-verifiably-false-claims-of-clean-wine-companies

0 notes

isaiahrippinus · 4 years

Text

A Deep Dive Into the Many, Verifiably False Claims of ‘Clean Wine’ Companies

The light striking the courtyard’s sandstone walls gave a golden haze to the evening. Guests seated at wooden benches chatted quietly, enjoying plates of fresh summer food.

But there was nothing welcoming about the server. “There is nothing wrong with the wine,” she said, loudly enough for heads to turn.

My boyfriend and I had just arrived in Germany and were having a romantic dinner. I’d ordered a glass of Spätburgunder, the local Pinot Noir.

“If you want another, you’ll have to pay for both,” said the woman.

I felt my face flush. “It’s corked.”

She marched back into the bar at a rapid clip and came back, bearing the bottle. It had a screwcap, not a cork.

Later, a wine writer told me that the wine came from a difficult, wet vintage. “Some people bottled rotten grapes,” he said.

Where are all these lurid wine tales wine coming from?

But here goes.

ADDITIVES

Just because something is listed doesn’t mean it’s used, because winemakers prefer to let the grapes speak for themselves.

SUGAR

Another way to introduce doubt about any product is to claim it’s full of added sugar.

Sugar is also added by anyone using the Champagne method to make a sparkling wine; along with yeast, it’s what gets a secondary fermentation going. Otherwise, sugar can’t be added.

MEGA PURPLE

COLOR DYES

Adding dyes to wines? Illegal.

SULFITES

PESTICIDES

GMO YEASTS

ALCOHOL

ALLERGIC REACTIONS

The article A Deep Dive Into the Many, Verifiably False Claims of ‘Clean Wine’ Companies appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/clean-wine-false-claims/ source https://vinology1.tumblr.com/post/627338748708962304

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