#Beach Chair Lager

[wpak13]

Corona Beer

The battle between Heineken and Corona Brands presents two different mindsets and a good juxtaposition of both. Heineken, as the incumbent, relied on messaging the quality of the beer, where as Corona worked to showcase the lifestyle. Heineken's largest vulnerability was that it did not keep a close understanding of its users and buyers. They did not understand that the sentiment of good quality beer and understanding the brewing process did not have as strong of an impact as the actual marketing itself. Heineken should have actively worked toward understanding their own image in terms of the consumer and distributor rather than being a little to egocentric in their thinking. Corona brands relies on the lifestyle images, showcasing the beach, the lime, the umbrella, all evocative of a relaxing time when all you need is a beach chair and a corona. Heineken in comparison evoked the science of brewing and beer making, a much more intellectual venture and not one that people would gravitate to when needing an ice cold lager after a hard day of work. I remember living abroad in North Africa, and the only beer in the whole country was Heineken. No ads needed there from their monopoly of imported beer. However, when consumers do have a choice, the way brands communicate to their consumers (and distributors!) matter.

[callsign-marlie]

fly boy

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x f! civilian reader

warning: mature content 18+ *minors dni!*, drinking/alcohol/drunkenness, unprotected seggsy time w/ consent, pregnancy kink (??) a lil twist at the end, but other than that really not so much shockingly

summary: a fated failed football catch in a precarious situation leads you to a night you'll replay over and over in your head for the rest of your days.

a/n: let's pray that the tags work today but HOO BOY this is my third time trying to post this, tumblr gods please be on my side.

if you need me, i'll be thinking up domestic situations with my favorite pilots k thanks <3

Your beer was flattening by the second, but you just couldn’t get yourself to pick up the sweating glass to chug it down. After all, you’d lose your one and only form of entertainment. Every few seconds, a little carbonated bubble floated to the surface and you would count as many as you could in a minute’s time.

16.

Already significantly less than what was coming up just five minutes ago. You tipped your wrist to peek at your watch again. Twenty minutes past the hour. He was late.

“Stood up, hun?” The bartender, Penny, gave you a sad smile, drying her hands on the towel that hung from her belt loop. “A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be sitting alone drowning in the amber depths, you know. You should be out on that dance floor with the others, enjoying yourself!”

A sigh escaped your lips as your eyes wandered to the group of people out dancing to the jukebox. People from all walks of life were dancing on the floor, singing at the top of their lungs, mingling in quiet corners, or playing billiards at one of The Hard Deck’s various tables. Everyone seemed to be in their own spaces, enjoying their own little slices of life while you’ve been stuck sitting there. Counting fucking bubbles. “I’ve been waiting here for twenty minutes already, so there’s probably a good chance that the fly boy I met today ain’t gonna come hang out.”

The bartender crossed her arms, her hip coming out to the side. “Fly boy? You mean one of the aviators?” Penny huffed loud, ripping her towel from her belt loop and snapping it in the air before you. The wind from the whip made you flinch as it parted the wisps of hair near the top of your forehead. “Take it from me,” she started low, a pointed glare. “Never. Trust. Aviators. They’re gonna let you crash before they turn n’ burn out of there themselves so they don’t get taken down too.”

She grabbed at the now flattened lager on your coaster and poured another one straight from the tap. A new crisp cloud of foam rested gently at the top. “This one’s the house, hun. But don’t wait too long. That guy doesn’t owe you anything for wasting your time. It’s no use waiting on something that won’t ever come.”

You raise your glass to the bar patroness in thanks and take a long gulp. It was a bit more hoppy than you thought it would have been. Based on the color, you were expecting bitter, but not this almost refreshing tang tied with fruity undertones left on the bottom of your tongue. 

Coming out to bustling Miramar for an assignment, you never expected the variety of tastes, sights, and sounds you could come to encounter. You had quickly settled in on the scenic North Island base, finding the heat and sun of the beaches to be more relaxing than the hustle and bustle of your resident city.

A trip to the beach earlier that day with your favorite book should have been all relaxation and no fuss, but a stray football landing at your feet with a tanned hunk suddenly face up under your beach chair and between your parted legs left you with your heart beating in your throat. Your head was most certainly out of sorts.

He had those boyish magazine model good looks about him, two pink scars folding themselves down his cheek to mar his skin. Natural sun highlights fell through his dark locks and he smelled of coconut and sunscreen; salt, sweat, and the musk of the sand mingling. However, the fear and nervousness in his hazel eyes as he did his best to scramble away from beneath your beach chair left you awed. He stood at quick attention, his rippling abdominals tightening into a strict posture befitting a soldier.

“I-I’m sorry, ma’am, got a little too overzealous with that catch, ma’am. Please forgive me ma’am, I-I’m so so sorry.” He stuttered through his apology, his slim mustache crinkling up at every pronunciation of ma’am. Sweat lined the top of his lip and his aviator sunglasses were aske, covered with sand as he stood at attention. A pretty little flush was apparent on his chest all the way up to his ears. You did your best to come back to reality.

“I-It’s ok, sailor, no harm no foul. You’re not hurt right?” He relaxed just a moment, letting his shoulders roll forward with a deep exhale. “Not in the slightest. Sorry about that again.”

“Hey, things happen. Would have been cooler if you caught the ball though.” You tossed the pig skin back at your resident Baywatch babe and watched him recoil at the force of the toss, clutching it to his chest. “I’ll try my best to be cooler, ma’am. Make sure you watch, this next one’s gonna be for you.” A crooked smirk left his lips, and your chest fluttered.

Shit. 

He stopped his trot back to his buddies suddenly and turned around. “Also, I’m not a sailor, ma’am. I’m a pilot. An aviator. Call sign Rooster. But you? You can call me Bradley.” He left you breathless with a wink before bounding off. You barely had a moment to register what he said before you yelled back, “I’m (y/n)! And quit callin’ me ma’am, fly boy! I’m not that old!”

You had done your best to get back to your fiction, but always found your eyes gazing back up to the large group of pilots playing the most ridiculous game of tag football you had ever seen.  Another toss lobbed its way through the air and Bradley grabbed it easily from another tall blonde, clutching it to his chest before spiking it to the ground in victory. His eyes rotated back to you for approval and you gave him a small clap on the top of your now forgotten book. He faced you and gave a cheeky little bow before returning back to his match up. 

Son of a bitch.

Before you knew it, the sun was setting, but you didn’t leave that beach until the rowdy group had begun to pack up their things. Bradley was out of sight and you were slightly disappointed you wouldn’t see him again, but quickly packed up your bag and made your way back to your car.

You heard someone shout your name from behind you and found Bradley, still sun-kissed and beautiful, trotting up to you. “Hey, (y/n), lost sight of you! Thought I wasn’t ever gonna see you again.”

You threw your things in the back of your Volkswagen’s trunk and slammed the lid closed, leaning against the back cap with your arms crossed against the dusk. “I guess I was more invested in your game than I thought, but I still don’t really know who won.” “We had lost track a long time ago. We were just having fun at that point,” he grinned, tucking his hands into his jeans pocket. Even with night’s dark approaching, his smile was luminous. “But listen, I wanted to see if you wanted to catch a drink with me. There’s a little bar down the road over there called The Hard Deck that I like and wanted to know if you wanted to come by and have a drink with me. I gotta make it up to you for my little stunt somehow.”

A grin passed your lips, teeth and all. “Well, fly boy, I think that’s the least you can do for me. Wanna meet at 8? I have to run home and get myself cleaned up first.”

“It’s a date, darlin'. I’ll see you there.”

And that’s the last time you saw Bradley “Rooster” whatever-his-last-name-was because you were too in awe of him to think to ask for it. Or for his phone number, for that matter.

Recalling the event had you downing your fresh pint and scooting yourself off the bench with a wave goodbye to Penny. Fuck that guy. He couldn’t even pay you back for embarrassing you to sin; what a joke. 

Just as you were about to go through the swinging entrance doors to your car, your face bumped into a hard chest and the faint scent of coconut and sunscreen arrested your senses. Strong hands braced your arms before you stumbled back, steadying you upright. And there he was. Shining and bright, all smiles and youth and beauty. An Apollo of the night time. Just… not as regal as you thought.

Of course, as an aviator with a name like Rooster, you should have expected him to be wearing his sunglasses at night. He wore a simple white undershirt under an open tacky 80’s Hawaiian shirt, jean cut offs lingering just above the knees with flip flops to match. He tossed you a goofy smile, a hand immediately going behind his head. “Jeez, good thing I caught you. Gotta look where you’re going, dollface! W-wait, where were you going?” You tightened your teeth against each other, doing your best not to let them grind while you pushed past him.

“I was just going to leave, thanks.”

“What?! I just got here though! I still owe you a drink!” He sounded pitiful, like a child forced to come in from play too early. 

“You’re late, Bradley. A drink’s just not worth my time.”

A heavy pout crossed over him as he followed you out the door. Back to the cold outside. “Oh come on, (y/n), I was picking up some friends to bring! Look, look, look, how about this.”

Long fingers grabbed you around the wrist to spin your frame to him. As much as you wanted to slap his hand away, his pleading hazel eyes begged for only a moment of your time. “All of your drinks are on me tonight. Just come back inside. I wanna introduce you to my pals.” His gaze locked with yours, his intentions delivered to you by telepathy: pure, truthful, and genuine. A glimmer of hope. 

You broke your gaze first with a flush, moving your way back into The Hard Deck and yanking your hand away. “Fine, FINE. All of them. And unfortunately for your wallet, Mr. Rooster, I’m no lightweight.”

He laughed, a playful arm wrapped around your shoulders, that damned smile shining through his lips while he led you forward back into the crowded noise of the bar. A full man child, this one. So easily pleased.  “Mr. Rooster. That’s a good one. The last name’s Bradshaw, by the way. Bradley Bradshaw.”

Your nose crinkled at the thought, creased with laughter. “Jeez, did your parents hate your or something?” 

He grinned, tight lipped only this time. You didn’t catch his tone or his words against the clamor of the jukebox. 

He herded you over to a group of well dressed aviators in their flight uniforms, so very unlike his civie get up. A pretty brunette who waved and quickly moved to your side with a glass of something good, a blondie with a cocky smile who winked at you so much you almost thought it was some kind of tic, a shy guy hanging out in the corner with glasses hanging from his nose looking nowhere and everywhere all at once. There was a tall, willowy fella waving over from the dart board with a shorter, stronger man giving a charming grin trying to block the tall guy's shot. The final one was sitting with a pool cue in his hand waiting for his move to strike, so he only gave a nod in your direction.

Phoenix. Hangman. Bob. Payback. Fanboy. Coyote. Bradley had whispered all of their call signs into your ear while his arm draped around the plateau of your shoulders. His words were starting to slur from the constant flow of Budweisers in his system and his breath was getting heavier the longer the night rolled on. You yourself however, felt light as a feather: finally at ease and calm.

You laughed with your new friends and hollered with them at the final 8 ball shot Phoenix landed on Hangman and when she pulled the crisp $20 bill from his breast pocket. You cheered with the rest when the bar’s bell rang signaling a new round of drinks.

Time never stopped. The night felt like it rolled forever. 

And then, clear as a bell, a piano played.

You didn’t notice that Rooster’s arm had left its constant perch and was currently tickling the ivories placed in the center of the room. Phoenix, a blush of alcohol across her cheeks, pulled you to the center next to the piano to listen to Bradley play. God, the way his long digits danced across the keys was an intricate dance. A tango, a jive, a Charleston. Each beat was different, each tone rang true.

Eventually, a familiar tune shook through the establishment as Bradley’s deep timbre reverberated through its foundation.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain Too much love drives a man insane You broke my will But what a thrill,”

And suddenly, the whole bar erupted. “Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!”

A joyous laughs ruptured from your lungs as the song went on, your feet twirling you across the dance floor while Rooster sang out loud, His brow was beaded with sweat. Fanboy came away from the dart board to spin you around and around before launching you at Phoenix, who held you tight before you fell to the ground in your stupor. You both rocked together, holding hands and shaking your hips to the beat. You were free, albeit drunk, but free nonetheless.

In your drunken romp, you never noticed Rooster’s eyes on you the entire time you danced. He watched the delicate framing of your arms, the bounce of your chest, the way the strap of your top dropped from your shoulder. How beads of sweat made the strands of hair on your forehead stick, or the blush of alcohol spreading across your neck to your shoulders. You were radiant. Glowing, an angel on earth. 

“Rooster’s got the hots for youuuuu, girl,” Phoenix yelled, the bass of the room rolling in your chest. “He hasn’t stopped trying to touch you or look at you all night. He’s all eyes on you.”

She spun you to her quick, your neck snapping back to center with a giggle. Her smile was genuine, gentle and kind, letting you have ample time to return your own. “He’s a good one. I’d trust him with my life if I could.” And with a wink, she was gone in a flash to crowd the piano with her crew.

Your eyes drifted back to the piano man, his skin flushed and glowing under the spotlights. His head tilted back with a vein popping from his chest at the strain of the notes he was singing. The crowds were perched around his piano. 

If you didn’t act now, maybe you’d never get this moment back again.

“Hey Rooster, you big stuuuuud,” you drawled, raising your glass to him.

He smiled under his breath to turn behind him, as if he wasn’t watching you the whole time. His fingers never stopped playing. “What’s up, darlin’?”

You gave a devious grin, your nose wrinkling just the way he liked. “Take me to bed or lose me forever!”

“Show me the way home!” he howled, finishing off the final verse with the howls and stomps of the bar behind him. 

The crowd roared while he came up from his seat. He threw a huge wad of cash towards Penny, who gave him a knowing smile and a wink towards you. Don’t trust aviators, huh? Maybe this will be different, Penny. I feel it in my gut.

The cold of the night met your skin before you knew it and Rooster had you piggybacked to him before you could even scream to make him put you down. His abs rippled underneath your constricted legs, while his musk invaded your senses.

He walked and walked while you directed him to the place you were staying, as both of you were too in the bag to think about getting behind a wheel tonight. Your head laid on his upper shoulders while you talked about life: how you were a morning person and he was a night owl, how breakfast was your favorite and he could eat dessert for every meal.

Eventually, your surprise charter dropped you at the entrance of your home and you fumbled with the keys to unlock the door. You didn’t bother turning around while you walked in. You left the door open as you walked into the foyer, leaving your shoes at the door. That ball was in his court now. 

And thankfully, you heard the door shut on its own not too long later. 

You were in the kitchen with the lights dimmed low, grabbing some glasses of water and some pain medicine for your impending hangover when the pilot sauntered in. Sandals off, like a gentleman. You rolled a glass and some tablets in his direction, taking your own at the same time. As you gulped down the water, you motioned for him to swallow them. “Trust me, you’ll thank me tomorrow.”

He did as he was told and you watched a rebel droplet of water sink its way down the side of his neck, rolling down the skin of his jugular. Before your brain could process what was happening, your tongue was rolling along his salt-tainted skin, licking up the pesky drop to capture his lips. It was instant electricity.

You were never this forward. Never this powerful. Something had come over you, watching him play that piano. Feeling the weight of his arm on your shoulder all night. The weight of his gaze on your form. The heaviness of his words in the shell of your ear. The feeling of his hard body pressed against your chest while he jostled you the whole way home.

A surprised mewl left his throat before he registered what had happened. His lips pressed harder against your own, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip to seek purchase to its new territory. It was all carnal as his hands found the back of your head and tangled themselves in your hair. The gentle pull of his fingers roped a surprise gasp from your lips, your jaw opening. He pulled away from you for a moment to look over your wanton face, eyes half lidded and lips swollen. He dove back in, pressing the small of your back against your kitchen island. “I may not need to thank you tomorrow. I may just thank you right now.”

Your hands grazed themselves over the ripples of his undershirt (Hawaiian shirt be damned to the linoleum floor), and lifted the hem to gently rake your nails over the smooth skin of his abdomen. He sucked in a deep breath at your feather light touches while he pulled you to sit on the edge of the island. His digits groped down your body, gently fondling the front of your chest. The pleasant shocks that rose over your skin that left goosebumps and the hair on your skin to rise. You broke his kiss, your tongues ceasing their battle for the briefest of moments for you to whisper: “Bed.”

You hopped down to grab his hand and pull him towards your bedroom, doing your best to keep as many body parts connected to him as possible. You were both a flurry of mouths, hands, skin and nails. You couldn’t let each other go, even if you tried.

He lifted you from the floor and planted you on your back atop your comforter, kissing down your clothed abdomen and running those magical, calloused hands across the exposed skin of your thighs. His mustache tickled at your skin while he nosed up the hem of your top to lick a circle at your belly button. The dampness between your legs was becoming insufferable as you squirmed under him, your fingers aching to the nerve to pull him closer.

Your top was off and your bra was shed without you realizing, you left nipple wrapped up in the warmth of his mouth. Rooster’s tongue circled and flicked at the bud, grabbing a high pitched whine from the root of your chest. He popped his lips off only for a moment to smile at you.

“Well if that wasn’t the prettiest noise I’ve ever heard,” he mused, keeping eye contact while he attached himself to the right and repeated the movement. Your breath was coming in shakily at his ministrations, the heat in your gut an impossible ache that needed relief. “Roo… Roo- Bradley, please.”

“Please what, honey? Use those words.” His fingers took their time getting to your shorts, skillfully popping the button with two fingers. “What do you want? I’ll do anything you ask me to, baby.”

“I need you, in me. This second. Foreplay be damned, I need your cock now.”

That charming smile flew back to his lips as he left a chaste kiss to your forehead. “As you wish, ma’am.”

You raised your hips enough to slide off your shorts while Bradley simply moved the cloth covering your core to the side of your thigh. He rolled himself down the bed to inspect the site for himself, groaning out loud, his head tilting back in the dim light for you to see the gleam of his throat illuminating the love bites you left behind.

“God, doll, you’re soaked. Just one taste? Please? Pretty pretty please? It looks just delicious,” he moaned out, running the tip of his index finger over your slick. Moans fell out of your mouth like a stream at this point: it was a flood. “B-Bradley, stop, I’ll cum like that.”

“Maybe that’s what I want, (y/n),” he muttered, a new darkness overtaking his tone. He crept his way back up to your face, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached a point where his hardness was pressed against you. “Maybe I want you to cum all over my fingers. Make you cum so hard, you’d squirt all over the bed. I’d make you beg me to stop. I bet you’d like that, huh?”

As much as the thought pleased you, the image of his mouth on your pussy, fingers curled deep inside, his mustache making that sweet friction against your clit, you had to do everything in your power to shoo the thoughts away. Just the pressure of his dick on your wet pussy, the heat, the girth, and the insatiable hunger was enough to grab him by the back of his hair to pull him down to you. “Put your cock in me right now, Lieutenant.”

That was it. All guns were blazing. 

Rooster’s shorts and underwear were gone in an instant and he was lined up at your entrance at supersonic speed. He paused for a moment, the length of him resting on top of your stomach. His hands gripped underneath your chin as he left a sweet kiss on your lips. This man was a double edged sword; so sweet, tender even, and the next minute? A demon. A full, lustful demon ready to take you to hell with him. Now you understand Penny’s warning.

���Honey, (y/n) I don’t have any protection with me. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Bradley, I couldn’t give a shit if I got pregnant with your baby right now. I don’t think I’ve ever needed a cock as much as I need yours right now. Just fucking give it to me.” And that was the truth. The alcohol was burning out of your system like rocket fuel and you were nearly completely sober. You couldn’t even see what his cock looked like in the dim light of the nighttime, but you knew it was everything you needed and more.

With that blessing, his forehead on yours, Rooster slowly sunk his cock into you, each tantalizing inch stretching your walls just enough. You both groaned out loud as he kept pushing, little by little, until he was sheathed to the hilt. He looked down at your face, sweat beading along his chest, dropping a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your neck. A string of saliva connected between the two of you. A quick breath. “‘M gonna move.”

His hips rocked into your slick and you could have sworn you were going to melt. His left hand reached to connect to your neck and leave the gentlest of pressures while he pulled long strokes from your pussy. He grabbed a cry from you with each slide. Your lungs felt like they were going to explode, your heart fluttering in your chest at the pressure on your throat, his smooth voice whispering the filthiest things in your ears. Each time his cock, thick and veined, dragged from your heat, an emptiness and hollowness were left behind that only let you want more. More.

The more Bradley picked up his speed, the more comfortable you became. He released his hand from your throat and placed both hands on either side of your head. His face was close, his eyes half lidded with your mouths mere millimeters apart. You exchanged your breath, each pant and groan, each soft ‘please’ that echoed from your lips drove his hips forward to delirium. 

The heat in your core pooled and pooled until finally, it gushed free from you, a relief like aloe rushing over your system. Bradley captured your lips to muffle your scream to a moan as you rippled around him, the shock of the contractions nearly bringing him to his own premature end. When the shocks were quelled, he cooed against your skin. His mouth left icy spots along your neck, your forehead, your chest. “Atta girl,” he whispered before placing a kiss on your forehead. “That’s my girl. Good job, baby. So good. Wow.”

You reveled in his praise, rubbing your cheek against his shoulders in comfort. Your stomach was in knots, but was slowly untangling itself and burning up again at the fullness already within you.

“Lay on your side.” So gentle, his commands, that you did what you were told without a word. Your head was hazy and your vision was blurry in the dark of the night, but his hands enveloped your chest to hug your back to his own, his cock already positioned behind you. He slid in just as easy, this new angle eliciting the sweetest moan from his throat. You let your hands roll behind you to tangle themselves in his sandy locks as he took the liberty to move on his own accord. His strong left arm wrapped around your breasts while his right gripped the side of your hip, fucking himself into you at a speed you had yet to experience that night.

You tipped your forehead back to meet his eyes, his pupils blown out. “Cum for me, baby,” you moaned, the friction in your pussy pulling your coil back taught. “I want you to cum in me. Fill me up. I wanna feel you, please, I want it so bad.” 

At your words, his strokes only got faster, shorter, and hiccupped in rhythm. Bradley couldn’t speak: the only thought he had was to follow your plea. He pulled you tight to himself and spilled into you, his hot, heavy breath in your ear sending goosebumps down your arms. You shushed him as he moaned your name over and over, his hips sputtering into you. The feeling of him filling you was enough to settle the burning in the pit of your stomach, the flames dying out to a mere kindle.

You did your best from your position to comfort Bradley from his high, your fingers playing with his hair, your lips running along the curves and valleys of his strong arms. “You did amazing, hun,” you muttered, his small shakes and tremors running along your back. “I have you. I promise. I got you.”

He pulled you closer to him, breathing in your hair, your scent, your everything. The world slowly came back to focus to the point where he was able to dislodge himself, rolling on his back. You rolled back to your side of the bed and just laughed, garnering a chuckle from him as well.

“That was hot as fuck,” you said out loud, extending your hand out to the aviator. His grin was infectious, high fiving you in the process planted a chaste kiss on your palm to quell the burn. “Oh fuck yeah, we should do that again sometime.”

Rooster rolled on his side, a hand reaching to the bed stand beside him to click on the light. The warmth of the lamp rushed the room as he rummaged through a plate beside the bed, pulling a silver ring from the mess of notes and dog tags to place it back on his left ring finger. He wiggled his fingers, a whole man again, before dropping his wrist back to the bed. “Certainly spiced things up a little, don’t you think?”

Your own band was already back on your own left finger, giggles erupting from deep in your chest. “I can’t believe you even got Penny in on it, you pervert! Recreating the day we first met, the bar, the guys. Even the shirt.” Lo and behold, Bradley, the perfectionist he was, dug out the the exact same dumb Hawaiian shirt that he had wore the first time he took you for a drink after that fateful game of dogfight football. Where he introduced you to the Dagger squad. To where he piggybacked you home the whole way. To the first night you kissed and swore up and down you wouldn’t ever be with a Fly Boy.

But here you were, three years later, happily married, and freshly moved from your shared apartment in Virginia to your new home in the newly promoted Captain Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw’s station in North Island. 

He’ll be teaching advanced aerial maneuvers to the new incoming classes of Top Gun along with Hangman and Phoenix.

You reached your arms out to your husband, making a grabbing motion. “Come here, hot stuff, gimme some sugar.”

“I think I gave you enough sugar tonight, sugar,” he laughed, enveloping your form against his chest. You planted gentle kisses along his breast bone to rest right over his beating heart. You hung there in silence in his arms, naked, comfortable, warm.

You had almost thought by the way his breathing slowed that he had fallen asleep before you could clean up, but his voice whispered out from the dark when your own eyes had begun to drift. “Hey (y/n), I have a question for you.”

“What is it, love?”

“I love you. So much.”

You tilted your head up, an eyebrow raised. “Roo, that’s not a question, baby.”

“And it never will be.”

[axwalker]

Tears in Heaven 3: Again

Tears in Heaven 3: Again

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is about to get married but memories of her old life are coming back to haunt her.

MASTERLIST

Pairings: Liam x MC Drake x MC (TRR)

Warnings:  NO ONE UNDER 18 should read this story. This is an 18+ blog. N*FW

This story will deal with very dark subjects such as death, severe depression and suicide attempt (among others) if you’re triggered by any of those issues, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS STORY

A/N: The story will go back and forth between three different periods of time (2009 / 2015 / 2019)

A/N: I  used Grey’s Anatomy prompt # 16 , requested by @burnsoslow (in bold in the story)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Word count: 4,957

Songs inspiration: Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton

THANKS TO:  @burnsoslow  Thanks for beta reading and correcting so patiently 🤣🤣    @pedudley your comments and encouragement are the best. LOVE YOU BOTH! ❤️

June 2015

Liam sat at the hospital bench with his heart still racing. He had barely made it on time. He didn’t want to think what would have happened if he had taken that last call in his office, or if he had come across more red lights on his way to her house.

The doctors had told him that with the number of pills she had ingested and how weak her body was, she wouldn’t have survived much longer.

When Liam had arrived at her apartment that night, he had knocked several times with no response. Something was not right. That morning, she had seemed different: more serene, more at peace. He thought about the expression on her face when she had said good-bye, and it all made sense.

He didn’t lose any more time knocking. He took three steps back and ran at the door, slamming against it with his shoulder. When it opened, he ran to her room, to find her unconscious on the bed. He didn’t think twice; he would be much faster than an ambulance, so he scooped her in his arms and took her to the emergency room in his car.

When he arrived at the hospital, a nurse laid her on a stretcher and took her away from him.

After waiting the longest two hours of his life, a doctor had come out to tell him that she was sleeping, but she was going to be fine. Mainly due to his fast reaction.

He had called Olivia and Maxwell, who had rushed to her side, and the three of them sat together waiting for her to wake up.

Liam couldn’t help but feel furious. She had been selfish and had forgotten about her friends. About Max and Liv. About him. Liam knew his death had been devastating, but she had no right to leave them like that. He couldn’t imagine his life without her friendship, without her.

When he was finally allowed to see her, his anger had faded. She seemed so fragile and small in the bed that all he felt was a deep sadness - for her and for everything that had happened. He sat next to her and took her hand, all his feelings for her rushing back.

She stirred in the bed and opened her eyes to see Liam smiling softly at her.

“Hi, Alexis.”

“I’m in the hospital.” It was more of an angry statement than a question.

“Yes. I came back to check up on you, and I barely found you in time.”

“I didn’t want you to save me, Liam. I just …” She sighed, unable to finish her sentence.

“What?” He stared at her, angry again.

Alexis refused to talk anymore, so she turned her back to him, but he wasn’t going to let her get away with it so easily. He walked around the bed to face her.

Liam needed to confront her; maybe he had coddled her too much. “Say it. If you’re so determined to really give up, if you really think that’s what he would have wanted, then at least have the courage to say it. You wanted to die.”

“I would never know what he would have wanted or not.”  Her eyes filled with tears. Why couldn’t Liam understand that she was already dead? “Leave me alone, Liam. Please, I beg of you, just let me go, let me die. I’m just not strong enough.”

He sat on the edge of the bed. “It doesn’t matter how tough we are. Trauma always leaves a scar. It follows us home; it changes our lives. Trauma messes everybody up. But maybe that’s the point - all the pain and the fear. Maybe going through all that is what keeps us moving forward. It’s what pushes us. Maybe we have to get a little messed up before we can step up.” He rubbed her forehead softly. “I’ll never leave, Alexis. We’re going to fix this. I swear.”

He took his jacket off and hung it on the chair behind him. “You should sleep a little. I’ll stay here.”

She closed her eyes and fell asleep almost immediately. Liam pulled out his phone and started to look for the best clinic available. He was determined to save her.

September 2009

Drake and Alexis were excited to spend their first weekend together. The annual Derby in Portavira had been the perfect excuse. She had told her father that she was staying with Liv at Penelope’s house, but she was going with Drake to Portavira for the race, and after, they were going to escape to a little cabin on the beach for the night. Their first night together.

They had agreed to meet at Olivia’s house. When Drake parked in front of the estate, he saw her walking down the stairs towards him. She looked gorgeous in a simple white midi dress and a fedora.

“Hi, Drake.” She looped her arms around his neck.

He kissed her, grinning. Fuck, he was crazy about her. “Hi, O’Brien. I can see you’re not wearing a big feathered hat.”

She beamed. “Olivia tried to lend me several, including one with a dead bird on top of it, but it wasn’t really me.” She lifted her face coquettishly. “Do you like this one?”

He rubbed her cheek, smiling. “You look beautiful, Lexie.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome too. I like that white shirt.”

Drake blushed and smiled as a reply to her compliment. He put her bag in his trunk and they left for Portavira.

They arrived at the racetrack three hours later and easily accessed the infield where the nobles’ tents were located, thanks to the special pass Liam had given him.

Alexis shook her head at the swarm of reporters and photographers waiting for the celebrities and the nobles. “I would die if I had to spend my day thinking about my outfit and talking about Cordonian apples.”

Drake chuckled. “Come on, O’Brien. Let’s go to the tent.” He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the Rhys’ tent. “I’ll go get something to drink. A lager pint?”

“Yes, please.” She winked at him playfully before turning to enter the tent.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her against him for a kiss. “You look so cute when you wink at me like that; I couldn’t resist.”

She shook her head smiling sheepishly.

“I’ll be back in five minutes. Just go inside; Li is already there.”

When she entered, Liam was there alone in a high chair facing the racetrack. He was reading a horseracing magazine.

“Hi, Li!”

Liam’s heart skipped a beat when he saw her. “I didn’t see you there, Alexis.” He smiled kindly.

“Sorry, you seemed awfully focused.”

“Heh! I was trying to decide which horse to bet on. Drake has won two years in a row, but this year he’s going down,” he joked.

She laughed. “I should have guessed that you two liked to compete against each other.”

“I hardly call it a competition; Liam loses all the time.” Drake entered the tent holding their three beers.

“I don’t know, Drake,” she teased him as she took her cold drink. “Li has been researching, and he feels extremely confident.”

“Is that true?” He sat next to Alexis, his arms encircling her waist.

Liam nodded excitedly. “You better start warming up. I’m positive that Mirabelle will win.”

“It’s not a bad prediction, but this is Twilight’s year. You’ll see,” he said with a smug look in his eyes.

Liam extended his hand. “The usual?”

Drake shook his hand in agreement. “The usual.”

“What’s the usual?” Alexis asked, intrigued.

“Ever since Drake and I were kids, we bet each other with push-ups,” Liam explained, his eyes crinkling at the memory.

Drake raised his finger. “Well, they aren’t just any push-ups - they are push-ups using only one hand.”

“That’s so cute,” Alexis answered, smiling. She loved their friendship.  

Drake frowned. “It’s not cute;, it’s rugged and manly.”

Liam frowned too. “Yes, very tough, I’d say.”

“Sure, of course. My bad!” She giggled.

“Except that I think we should change the bet a little; it would be incredibly rude to leave Alexis out. She should bet against us, too,” Liam suggested.

Drake looked at his girlfriend. “What can you do instead of push-ups?”

“I don’t know.” She thought about it. “But I want to play, too. Maybe I can eat something really spicy, for instance.”

“Nice try, Lexie. You love spicy food.” Drake squinted at her, thinking for a few seconds. “But I do have something in mind.” He turned to Liam. “Can you believe she has never watched any Indiana Jones?”

Liam’s eyes widened; he and Drake had watched all the movies more than 20 times since they were kids.

“Alexis, how can you live like that? It’s like you had no childhood,” he said, horrified.

She shrugged.  “What can I say? I just wasn’t interested.”

Drake shook his head in disbelief. “Well, if the horse you choose doesn’t win, you have to watch all the movies with us. But better beware that we know all the dialogue.”

She laughed, picturing the two of them being excited about Harrison Ford.

Liam tried to ignore how much he liked her contagious laughter. He cleared his throat. “Just so we’re clear, there’s only one winner. The other two losers have to accept their punishment.”

Alexis clapped her hands. “There we have it, then.” She looked at the magazine with the horse’s information for a few minutes. “I choose Bolt.”

Loud trumpets announced the start of the race, and the three of them turned to look at the track. All three of them were leaning forward, absorbed. Alexis, especially, was rapt. Drake leaned over to kiss her bare shoulder; he loved the passion she put in everything she did.

“Twilight takes the lead,” Drake smirked. Twilight was being closely tailed by Marabelle’s Dream, Bolt, and another horse.

“Race isn’t over yet. Go, Marabelle!” Liam urged the horse.

The horses reached the point that was further from their tent, making it hard to distinguish much. They could, however, see a white horse still in the lead.

“They’re rounding the third bend …” Liam said quietly, almost to himself. It was a nervous habit he’d always had during the races.

“Come on, Bolt. You can do it!” Alexis was shouting with everything in her.

“Catch them in the final furlong.” Drake’s hands were balled into tight fists.

“They’re neck-and-neck!” shouted Alexis excitedly. Marabelle’s Dream had finally caught up to Twilight and Bolt and they galloped together, their jockeys' legs almost touching. They were coming around the bend and getting closer to where the three sat.

“Come on …” Liam pushed.

At the very last moment, a mere foot from the finish line, Marabelle’s jockey gave her one final push, and they broke the finish line seconds before the other two horses.

“And there goes Marabelle! Ha! I knew it!” Liam pumped his arms triumphantly and gave Drake a gloating smile. “Drake, I believe you’re up, and if you think I’m enjoying this too much,” he chuckled, “I totally am.”

“I must’ve done something very wrong at some point for you to be my best friend,” Drake replied.

He took off his shirt and crouched into the push-up position. “Well, here we go…”

Alexis couldn’t help but admire Drake’s ability to do the push-ups using only one hand. It seemed extremely difficult. And he looked extremely handsome.

When he finished, he put his shirt back on. “Never let it be said that I’ve ever backed out of a bet,” said Drake as he buttoned his shirt back up.

Liam laughed. “You better get used to it, Drake.” He checked his phone; he had a date but wasn’t very excited about it. “Are you going to the beach then?”

Drake nodded. “Yes, we’re leaving now. This was fun, Li.”

Alexis smiled at him too. “Very fun. I owe you two an Indiana Jones marathon.”

Liam grinned. “Don’t worry, Alexis, neither of us will let you forget it until you pay up.”

She laughed. “I’m sure of it.”

The ride to the cabin was silent. Alexis plugged her phone in the stereo and played the playlist she had prepared for the trip, lost in her thoughts. She was well aware that she wasn’t nearly half as experienced as Drake was, and that made her really nervous. They had been waiting for more than a month, so their makeout sessions, intense and passionate, always left them incredibly frustrated. Her heart raced just thinking about their night ahead. She shook her head, trying to focus on the road ahead of them.

Drake knew she was nervous even if she was too stubborn to confess it, and he had to admit that he was a bit nervous himself. He wanted to give her a perfect trip. A perfect night. He grabbed her hand for the rest of the ride.

The cottage was hidden in a corner of a sandy beach. It was a small, charming house made with grey bricks. It had red wooden doors and window frames, a chimney, and a small white hedge surrounding the property. It looked alive and welcoming. The sea was only a few meters away. Alexis smiled, completely captivated by the place. The inside was equally cozy: rustic furniture, fluffy yarn rugs, a small kitchen, and a large fireplace. It was perfect.

“Drake, this is lovely.” Her eyes were brightening the way they did when she was particularly happy.

Drake sat on the large couch and pulled her into his lap. “I’m glad you like it, O’Brien. Bastien bought it, and the three of us remodeled it when we came here during the summer. He was going to move here when he retired, but he met Andrea and moved to Spain instead. Now he rents this during the holidays.”

“Well, it’s beautiful.” She grinned again, locking eyes with him.

He cupped her face and kissed her hungrily; he was dying to be with her, but they had all the time in the world. He rubbed her face softly. “I was thinking that we could go to the beach and swim a little now; the water gets too cold later.”

They spent a few hours in the water swimming and snorkeling, and later on the sand, kissing and playing poker while they drank the bottle of wine. At 6:00, the temperature dropped several degrees, and they decided to go to the local market to get something to eat.

The market was colorful and filled with spices, fruits, vegetables, and lots of fish. Alexis had promised to cook, so she went from stand to stand asking questions and choosing ingredients for her mysterious dish. She had even found Mexican tortillas which, apparently, was a miracle in Cordonia, because she had almost kissed the man at the stand.

Back at the cottage, Alexis cooked as Drake started a fire, and set the table. “This smells incredible, Lexie.” He circled his arms around her while she poured a creamy red sauce over the chicken wraps.  He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent that drove him crazy. He needed more. He pushed her hair aside and gave her soft kisses on her neck. Alexis swallowed hard, thousands of goosebumps appearing on her arms. Her soft moans encouraged him; his kisses deepened. She threw her head back, lost in him, unable to keep doing whatever she was doing before him.

He turned her and searched for her mouth, desperate to kiss her lips again. “I can’t wait anymore, Alexis.”

She shook her head, speaking with a low, sultry voice. “Me either.”

“Fuck, Lexie, come here.”  She jumped into his arms, straddling him. He carried her over to their bed, leaning forward and easing her down onto it. He laid next to her and traced her jawline with his thumb softly. “Are you sure about this, Lexie?”

She was unable to speak, feeling his fingers wander around her face and neck, his warm breath so close to her. He took her chin, making her look at him “I need you to be sure about this, baby.”

She nodded.  “I’m more than sure, Drake.”

“You have no idea how much I want this, Lexie.” He could barely get the words out through the surge of desire that rushed through him.

Her mouth opened, and then her tongue was on his, and he was so far gone. His hands roamed her back before settling on her hips, which he gripped hard. She’d been running her hands through his hair, but now she moved them to his chest. She grabbed and bunched up the fabric of his shirt, trying to get him closer than physics would allow.

Drake broke the kiss, feeling like he had to come up for air. He was breathing as heavily as if he’d just run a marathon.

Then he kissed her ear, her cheeks, and slowly, softly, bit her neck. Alexis was dizzy and giddy; she felt a heat travelling from her chest to her core that made her feel like she was going to self-combust.

He knew he was torturing both of them with his slow movements, but it was their first time together. He wanted to take his time, make her enjoy every second of it.

He looked at her, letting his hands play with the front buttons of her dress. He undid one by one; kissing each portion of skin exposed to him, until she only had her lace underwear left.

“You’re a goddess, Alexis.” With the tips of his fingers, he made a path on her bare skin from her jawline to the hem of her underwear. “You deserve to be worshipped.” He put his hand on her back and unclasped her bra, carefully taking down one strap, then the other, while he kissed both shoulders, finally taking it off. He kissed her breasts, gently sucking her buds, rubbing them with his fingers. “Fuck, baby, I want to kiss - to feel - every single part of you.”

She tried to unbutton his shirt, but her fingers were shaking.  She was too nervous and excited and unable to function while he kissed her like that. He sensed her nervousness and moved to kiss her lips again.

“Look at me, Lexie.” She fixed her dark eyes with his. “Are you okay, baby?’

She nodded, smiling; her heart was beating too fast. He kissed her gently, cupping her face; he hadn’t told her yet how much he loved her, how lost he was for her, so he kissed her as deeply as he coul, to make her understand. She kissed him back hard, sure that he was going to drive her crazy.

He lowered himself to pepper her stomach with kisses, letting his tongue explore her. He caught the hem of her underwear with his teeth and pulled it down, painfully slowly. She was completely bare, exposed to him, and he allowed his gaze roam all over her exquisite body. He took his shirt, jeans and boxers off and lowered himself to kiss her again: first, her long legs that drove him mad, then her thighs and sensitive inner thighs and finally, the skin around her core. He felt her shiver underneath him and raised his face to look at her. She was completely lost, a pretty blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks, her lips parted, her hair a complete mess, her fists clenching the sheets. She drove him completely wild. He kissed her soft skin, letting his tongue enter her and tease her nub as she gasped and writhed underneath him. She had never felt anything remotely similar to the electric feelings he was producing in her.

While his tongue continued to discover her, he easily plunged two fingers inside her, pumping slowly at first and then mercilessly as she arched her body, moaning his name, oblivious to everything around her. She felt the wave of heat wash over her, catching her off guard. Her whole body convulsed, and a final cry left her throat. He removed his fingers, drenched in her juices, and licked them clean.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He ravaged her lips again. She groaned as she felt his weight settle down on top of her for the first time, his hips pressing into hers, his broad chest barely meeting her body. He’d propped himself up on his forearms, and she felt his hands moving through her hair even as his mouth kissed her repeatedly. It felt like she was covered in him almost head to toe. It was overwhelming.

He held her steady and moved his hips, feeling himself slide into her gradually, giving her time to adjust to him “You’re so beautiful, baby.” She moaned, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, thrusting his hips and leaning forward. “God, Lexie, you’re so fucking tight baby; you feel amazing.” Her hands desperately clenched the sheets again; she fought to keep her eyes open, but she could barely think. She could only feel him. He was inside of her, thrusting. He was ravaging her neck with his lips. He was holding her and caressing her lower back, her ass. He was talking to her, telling how beautiful she was. She arched her back when a jolt of pleasure invaded her. “Oh, my God, Drake … Drake,” she moaned endlessly.

He saw her writhing under him, her back arched, her eyelids shut, her full lips parted almost screaming. She’s mine; this gorgeous girl is mine.

“Say my name again, O’Brien,” he growled as he quickened the movement of his hips and she cried out, indiscernible sounds at first.

“Dr … Drake …”

He leaned into her. “Look at me, baby.” She seemed unable to do it. He pulled her back against him and whispered in her ear. “I want to see your beautiful eyes looking at me when you come.”

His words made her gasp, and she complied, locking eyes with him. He moved his hand, using the tip of his finger to circle over her core, as he pounded her faster without taking his eyes off of her. “Lexie you’re driving me insane.” He was about to explode.

She moaned his name over and over again until a wave of pleasure invaded her. “Drake … I’m … Fuck, Drake! I’m close.”

He felt his own release not far off, the pressure in his stomach growing as her movements sent pangs of heat shooting all over his body.  “Come with me, Lexie.”

“D-Drake …”

He crashed his lips against hers as she moaned against his mouth. He felt her stiffen against him, muffling her cries against his mouth.

“Drake!” She sobbed his name as her muscles clenched around him. The sensation of her around him and his name on her lips sent him over the edge with her, producing a grunt from him as he filled her completely.

He collapsed on the bed, pulling her against him as they floated down from their high.

He never wanted to move. Ever. He just wanted to stay here, with her, exactly like that, forever. He lazily trailed his hand up and down her back as she sighed contentedly, nuzzling his neck.

“That was …” She shook her head. “There are no words.”

He kissed her head. “For me either, Lexie.”

A few hours later, famished, they went to the kitchen to eat the dinner she had planned for them.

“I only have to put the dish in the oven for 30 minutes.”

Half an hour later, they sat in front of the fireplace with the cold wine.

“Lexie, the smell is incredible.”

“They’re called enchiladas. It’s a bit spicy. I really hope you like it.”

She was looking at him, biting her lip expectantly. She was so adorable that he couldn’t help but kiss her before tasting the dish. It was amazing.

The tomato sauce was a bit spicy and it mixed heavenly with the grated cheese and the chicken.  “Fuck, Lexie. This is delicious.”

She was eating, too, a pleased expression on her face. “I’d like to be polite enough to say it’s not. But I actually really liked it, too.”

He chuckled. “Love your modesty.” And I love you too.

When they finished their dinner, they drank and talked about their lives. Soon enough, their desire became impossible to ignore. They made love again in front of the fireplace for hours, consumed in each other. They fell asleep on the yarn rug until Drake’s phone alarm woke them at 6:00 in the morning.

Alexis took the phone angrily. “Do you have a death wish, Walker?”

He laughed. “So, not a morning person. Noted.” He kissed her bare back, making her moan again. “I would love to have time for that, baby, but I want to show you something.” He stood up, extending his arm to her. She took it and stood up as well, still drowsy.

He helped her down the stairs and told her to wear a thick jumper and her jeans. He took a couple of blankets and prepared a thermos with hot coffee.

They got out of the house and walked a short mile. When they arrived at the spot he was looking for, he spread one of the blankets on the sand, and they sat on it facing the sea.

“There’s not a better spot to see the sunrise in all Cordonia,” he stated, simply passing her the coffee thermos.

“Drake, it’s gorgeous.” She looked around, admiring the splendid pink lights.

He pulled out the other blanket and covered the two of them with it.

She cuddled against him, enjoying the incredible view.

��Bastien used to take me and Savvie here when we couldn’t sleep after my dad died,” he said, with a bit of nostalgia in his voice.

She raised her hand and stroked his cheek. Thinking about him, as a little boy sad and scared, broke her heart. She couldn’t believe how much she loved him after only a month.

He turned to look at her; her expression was serene, beautiful. He loved every single side of her, and he couldn’t think of a better moment to tell her than that one right then, with the sun rising.

He locked eyes with her, an earnest expression on them. “I know we only met a month ago, but I love you, Lexie. You have no idea how much.”

Her eyes watered, and she felt overwhelmed for a second before she could respond. “I love you too, Drake. I’m crazy about you.”  She knew they were meant to be together, she had never felt surer about anything in her life.

April 2019

Liam was waiting for Alexis in the living room with a glass of Scotch in his hand, lost in his thoughts about the past, about what he had done. It had seemed a logical thing to do back then, but now he wasn’t so sure anymore. He had betrayed his own values. She came down the stairs, still holding her phone. She put it on the table and sat on the couch next to him, twisting her engagement ring nervously.

“Did you speak with Rashad, love?”

“Yes, I did. I have to go there myself, Liam. It’s better.”  

He placed his glass on the table and leaned over to hold her in his arms. He hated the anxious look in her eyes, her sad expression.

“I’ll go with you. We’ll face it together, Alexis.”

She laid her head against his chest. “You know that I have to go by myself, Li. I’ll be fine, I promise.” She checked the time on her phone. “I better leave now; I don’t want to drive at night.”

Alexis kissed him and left the house, trying to show him a strong façade. Sometimes she felt that worrying about her was a full-time job for Liam, and she blamed herself.

She looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror of the car. Five years after his death, and she still could see the emotional scars in her face, in her eyes. The closer she got to the house, the antsier she felt. She was going to open old wounds, to stir the past, and it was too painful; it hurt too much.

Even after all those years, just thinking about her life before the accident brought her to tears. Of course, it wasn’t perfect. They fought, frequently; they were both incredibly stubborn. They struggled about money, they had had too many sleepless nights and worries, but their love had been so deep, so powerful, that nothing else had really mattered.

Or so she thought.

She parked her car with her heart racing. Her hands were shaking, and her breathing had quickened considerably. She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself, but it was useless. After a few minutes of raising her hand to knock on the door and regretting coming there at all, she finally gathered some courage and did it.

When the door opened, she gasped. He had barely changed in almost five years. A few white hairs, more wrinkles, but he was still the same handsome man she had fallen crazily in love with.

He was preparing to go out when he heard the knock at his door. When he saw her standing at his doorstep in front of him, his heart stopped. He froze, completely unable to move or speak for a few minutes. Finally, his breathing steadied, and he was able to mutter her name.

“Alexis.”

“Hello, Drake. We need to talk.”

[nwbeerguide]

Stanley Park Brewing releases Park Sesh Lager, just in time for Spring

image courtesy Stanley Park Brewing

Press Release

VANCOUVER, BC. … As BC slowly opens up again, we’re all looking forward to getting back outside and enjoying longer days in the park. Whether it's picnics, bike rides, strolling the seawall or playing fetch in your neighbourhood park, it’s time to get back outside. In anticipation of these long-awaited park sessions, Stanley Park Brewing has been fine-tuning their latest release, aptly named Park Sesh Lager. Clean, crisp and sessionable, this easy-drinking craft lager is perfect for lazy days with your favourite 2- or 4-legged friends.

The brew itself is made with a unique blend of Sterling and Saphir hops and Superior Pilsner and Munish malts, giving it a biscuity flavour and very low bitterness at 5% ABV and 12 IBU. 

Park Sesh is a great everyday beer that pairs perfectly with your SPF 30, your favourite backyard lawn chair, and your bubble - so we suggest cracking one open with friends (while maintaining social distance of course). This easy drinking brew also goes great with food, so bring on the picnic bites - some sushi, a little charcuterie, or perhaps spicy sausage on your hibachi grill. 

As Brewmaster Thom Riley shared, “I love making lagers and over the past few years we’ve experimented outside the box with our DayTrip West Coast Lager and our Electro Lager, so now we wanted to take the opportunity to come back and make straight up traditional lager. This highly drinkable beer is designed for kicking back and relaxing on those chill sunny days.” He went on to share that Park Sesh Lager also came from a need at their recently opened Vancouver Brewpub. “We knew we wanted a solid lager on tap at the Brewpub and Park Sesh was born of that need. We’re really excited about this one and can’t wait to cheers with you” 

Are you ready to #ParkSesh? Look out for Park Sesh Lager in 6pk cans at your local retail liquor store, order it online at https://orders.stanleyparkbrewstore.com/products/park-sesh-lager-355ml-6-pack, or find it on tap at select bars and restaurants across British Columbia and Alberta. 

To keep up with the latest from Stanley Park Brewing visit, www.stanleyparkbrewing.com and join our newsletter at http://stanleyparkbrewing.com/signup to be the first to know about all our new brews. Find us on social media and follow us on Instagram @stanleyparkbrew, Facebook www.facebook.com/stanleyparkbrew, and Twitter @stanleyparkbrew.

 -30-

 ABOUT STANLEY PARK BREWING

As beer-crafters, we’re explorers at heart. We are inspired by the wonder of Stanley Park, and honouring our curiosity and seeking out new adventures is what we’ve always been about. From windstorms to daytrips to incredible sunsets best viewed from the beach, every beer we craft is a tasty tribute to Stanley Park and the experiences had within. And just like the park, we craft each one to be an exciting break from the everyday, an experience to be explored and savoured. In 2019, we opened our new Restaurant and Brewpub nestled in the heart of the Park. Situated just steps away from some of the best recreational trails and viewpoints in the city, the revitalized heritage building boasts two large outdoor patios, cozy and bright indoor dining rooms, a casual west coast-inspired menu and a rotating selection innovative beers brewed on-site, under the leadership of brewmaster Thom Riley. Let your taste buds wander as you experience one of the most unique brewpub settings in Canada. Stanley Park Brewing products are also available for sale in retail stores and in many of your favourite pubs and restaurants across British Columbia and Alberta. For more information, please visit www.stanleyparkbrewing.com.

from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/38VuTzM

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Baby You Were My Picket Fence [Chapter 5: Paradise City]

You are a first grade teacher in sunny Los Angeles, California. Ben Hardy is the father of your most challenging student. Things quickly get complicated in this unconventional love story.  

Song inspiration: Miss Missing You by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter warnings: Language, some sexual content (not smutty).

Link to chapter list (and all my writing) HERE

Taglist: @blushingwueen @queen-turtle-boiii @everybodyplaythegame @onceuponadetectivedemigod @luvborhap @sincereleygmg @stormtrprinstilettos @loveandbeloved29 @ohtheseboysilove @jennyggggrrr @vanitysfairr @bramblesforbreakfast @radiob-l-a-hblah @xox-talia-xox @killer-queen-xo @caborhapch @kimmietea @asquiresofftime @hardzzellos @sleepretreat @ramibaby @jonesyaddiction @ixchel-9275 @omgitsearly @lovepizza-cake11 @deacy-dearest @shishterfackisback @mrbenhardys @deaky-with-a-c If I forgot anyone, please yell at me :)

The blue chalk moves swiftly with shrill little squeaks over the board. You’re dressed in a floral red dress, leggings, sensible sable flats, and fuzzy woolly mammoth earrings. The kids love to see what sort of eccentric accessories you wear each day; there’s even a space on the board reserved for it. Today’s flair is: woolly mammoth earrings! (Please don’t touch unless you ask first!!)

“Okay my lovely children, let’s practice using each of this week’s spelling words in a sentence. Who can remind me what the first word on our spelling list is?”

“Oh! Oh!” Brendyn—who you mentally mix up with Brayden or Kayden at least twice a day—leans out of his chair and waves his arm hysterically. Dear god, please send a plague to wipe the unnecessary Y baby name trend off the face of the planet. “I can!”

“Go ahead, Brendyn.”

“Throw,” he announces proudly, as if he’s just won the Olympic medal for elementary-school writing.

“Awesome job! That’s right!” You transcribe it on the board: 1. Throw. “And who thinks they can come up with a sentence using the word throw?”

Eli, as he’s doodling all over his worksheet, says: “If you don’t like someone, you can throw them out of a window.”

You swallow noisily as you collect your thoughts. The other students are alternately giggling cautiously or gasping, scandalized. “Now, Eli...”

“Yes, Miss Teacher?” he prompts.

“It’s nice to raise our hands and wait to be called on when we have something to share.”

“Oops.” He raises his hand.

You sigh heavily. “Could you come up with a different sentence, please? One that is more school-appropriate? Remember we had a whole talk last week about school-appropriate topics. Right class?”

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N!” they agree in unison. That conversation hadn’t, perhaps shockingly, been inspired by Eli. A chatty, beach-blond, future surfer bro named Dexter had discovered his father, a prominent cinematographer, in a compromising position with the nanny—in the jacuzzi tub, no less—and felt the need to divulge that during Story Sharing Time. Worst parent phone call ever.

“Give it another try, Eli,” you say encouragingly.

“Taking spelling tests makes me want to throw up.”

You drop your face into your hands as the class howls in laughter. “Okay, very funny, but I still think we can come up with something more appropriate. Does anyone else have an idea?”

Maisy raises her hand timidly. Oh, hallelujah.

“Yes, Maisy!”

“Always remember to throw away your trash.”

“Wonderful!” You write the sentence on the board. “No littering. I like it. Save the sea turtles. Maisy, as a reward, you may give Creampuff one pumpkin seed.”

“Yay!” Maisy leaps out of her seat and sprints to Creampuff’s cage behind your desk. It’s your third year teaching with Creampuff, and the poor hamster is decisively in geriatric territory; she’s morbidly obese and her eyes are bluish with cataracts. But the children adore her, and Creampuff has always been wonderfully sweet and never bites. You just hope that when the time comes, she has the decency to kick the bucket over a long weekend so you can dispose of the body in secret and whip up a cheery story to tell the kids about how Creampuff went to live in an organic vegan farm or a hamster sanctuary or a retirement community in sunny Tampa Bay, Florida.

“Okay friends,” you announce. “Go ahead and practice coming up with sentences on your worksheet. Then we’ll chat in five or ten minutes and see what we’ve got. Ready, set, go!”

As students’ heads bow and pencils begin scratching against paper, you circle the room peeking over shoulders and making suggestions here and there. When you reach Eli’s desk, you crouch down so your gaze is level with his.

“Hey, Eli.”

“Hi,” he replies mistrustfully, his blue eyes narrow under dark curls.

“I just wanted to let you know that I thought your sentence ideas were very funny and very, very clever. But they just weren’t the best choices to use in class. Do you understand why?”

“Yeah,” he says, smirking a little. Of course you do, you’re the smartest kid in here.

“And I really appreciated you raising your hand to speak once you were reminded.”

“Thanks.” He’s actually bashful now, his high olive-skinned cheeks flushing.

“Are you still going to help me clap the erasers after class today?”

His eyes light up like wildfire. “Can I?”

The trap’s been sprung. Clapping erasers is like cocaine for first graders. “You betcha. If the rest of our spelling lesson goes smoothly.”

“Okay!” He immediately picks up his pencil and begins jotting down sentences. The handwriting is definitely a work in progress, but Eli’s spelling and grammar are immaculate. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you walk away; you’re feeling triumphant, of course, but there’s something else as well.

I’m proud of you, demon kid.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ben is standing on your doorstep, dressed in black, a potted calla lily in his hands. And at first he’s got that unnerving veneer, he’s serious and intimidating and smoldering; but then you find his eyes and his smile breaks open like cracked glass.

“Hi,” he says meekly.

“Hi.” You point to the calla lily. It’s a vivid green, like his eyes, like the serrated continents of the Earth from space. “Is that for me?”

“Yes, actually. It’s a gift, but it’s kind of a joke too.”

“How’s that?”

“It’s fake.” He grins. “So you can’t kill it.”

You laugh and take the pot, leaning back so the silk calla lily doesn’t tickle your nose, doesn’t rub against your makeup. “Come on in, Mr. Hardy.” Ben follows you, his hands in his jacket pockets, peering around watchfully. You find a temporary home for your new plant on the kitchen counter, right next to your latest purchase; you rest your hand, not-so-subtly, on the brand new, mint green, vintage record player. “Check this bad boy out.”

“Wow!” Ben leans down to examine it, running his fingertips over the turntable. Then his eyes flick to the box of vinyl records. “And you’ve already got listening material!”

“Lots of Queen, you’d totally approve.”

“Zeppelin?”

“Naturally.”

He flips through the records quickly: The Eagles, The Stones, Guns N’ Roses, The Beatles, The Cars, Aerosmith, Cheap Trick, Fleetwood Mac, U2, Hendrix, Elton, Nirvana. “Love it. I’m pumped. How much did all of this cost you?”

You crinkle your nose in lighthearted defiance. “It’s rude to talk about money, Mr. Hardy. Not a lot. Amazon is an amazing thing. And I’ve been collecting records for years. Yard sales, thrift shops, wherever. Some of them were my parents’ before I commandeered them.”

“I’ll ask again.” He takes out his wallet and starts counting bills, the paper shuffling in his hands. “How much for the record player? Estimate the rest.”

“Ben,” you protest, dismayed.

“Y/N,” he teases.

“You can’t buy everything for me,” you say gently.

“I’m not buying. I’m renting. I get to choose what to play whenever I’m here.” He unfolds $300 and lays it on top of the record player. “Will that cover it?”

You gape at the money. Yes, that’s about right. “Ben...I’d let you request music for free.”

“I don’t want requests. I want everything.” And then he grins, and it almost rips the floor out from under you. Oh god, I love this man.

You’ve never said those words aloud. You’ve never talked about his refrigerator magnet confession. But it’s somewhere in the space between you like a circling ghost, like a promise, like shared blood singeing under flesh.

“But,” Ben says, bringing you back into focus. “For now we should probably get going.”

“Right.” You grab your purse and jacket as Ben calls an Uber. “Where are we meeting them, anyway?”

He winks at you, his face illuminated by the glow of his cellphone screen. “Not the fucking Olive Garden.”

The Uber is a BMW with leather seats and a minibar installed in the backseat. As it cruises through downtown L.A., Ben tells you about how Joe has an apartment in the city, how Rami splits his time between his loft here and another in New York, how devout Londoner Gwilym is in town for work. You down a tiny Absolut Vodka to ease your nerves. “And when do I get to see your place, Mr. Hardy?”

He chuckles noncommittally. “We’re here,” he declares, glancing up through the BMW’s tinted windows. Outside is an upscale nightclub called The Edison. Then he turns to you. “Two things,” he says, holding up his index and middle fingers. There’s a gold ring on each. “First, don’t forget about the low profile.”

“That shouldn’t be difficult since we’re...” Air quotes. “Not dating.”

“Good. And secondly, don’t be anxious. They’re going to love you. You’re...”

“Charming?” you suggest, batting your eyelashes. “Blessed with impeccable music taste? Awesome at taming demons?”

He smiles. “I was going to say perfect.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re three shots deep and belting out Sweet Caroline with the electric-fence kid from Jurassic Park. There’s a sentence you never thought would cross your mind.

Joe’s trim left arm is draped over your shoulders, his head leaning into yours, a lager swooping precariously in his right hand as he gestures with it like a microphone. Ben is looking on, grinning as he sips his Sazerac, his eyes flickering in the dim, rusty light. When you first arrived, Ben introduced you as a friend; Joe had quickly shimmied over and started dropping lines.

“Joe,” Ben flared, like it was a warning. “I’m not trying to set you two up. That’s not what this is.”

“Whoops, my bad,” Joe had replied, and dialed down the saccharine charm. Yet you like Joe, you like him a lot, and within thirty minutes you’ve already exchanged numbers and compared astrological signs and agreed that he’s going to teach you how to play baseball next week.

“She’s got a thing for Jeff Goldblum, you know,” Ben says now.  

“Stop!” you cry, blushing furiously.

“Do you?!” Joe asks and gulps half his lager. “I can make that happen. I can introduce you.”

“He’s a lot older than he was in his Jurassic Park days,” you sigh, lamenting.

“But also wayyyyy richer!” Joe pitches, waggling his eyebrows.

“She’s a schoolteacher,” Ben notes. “She could use a sugar daddy.”

“Girl, I am going to hook you up!”

Rami and Lucy return to the circular booth from the dancefloor, their fingers interlaced. Lucy is incredibly delicate, even tinier and more youthful than she appears onscreen, and always smiling; Rami speaks slowly and thoughtfully and with a captivating meticulousness, and when he fixes his pale eyes on yours you feel like you’re the only person in the room, in the city, in the world, as if whatever you have to say is the most profound thing he’s ever heard. Rami shouts something to Ben over the blaring music as Ben takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one.

“Oh my god!” you exclaim, and Joe jumps beside you, startled. “You smoke?”

Ben takes a draw, exhales smoke through full pink lips, and smirks guiltily.

“What year is this?!”

“2019,” Joe offers.  

“Who the fuck smokes in 2019?!” you hurl at Ben. “Do you like breathing? Do you enjoy your internal organs? Do you want to live to spend all your BoRhap money?”

“You tell him!” Joe whoops, clapping. “Yeah baby! Tell him, Y/N!”

You ask incredulously: “They let people smoke in here?!”

“They do in the VIP section,” Joe chimes.

“He’s quite the delinquent, isn’t he?” Gwil says, appearing from the dancefloor and resting his hands on Ben’s shoulders. Gwilym is gentlemanly and eruditions, classically handsome, one of those people whose sincerity reads all over their face. His voice is different than Ben’s, lighter, sharper, less husky; he’s tall and slim and polished. In a phrase, he’s outlandishly lovely.

“I didn’t come here for an intervention, mate,” Ben responds, but his tone is pleasant and at-ease.

“Sorry for loving you, Ben!” Joe yells. “Sorry for caring about your longevity!”

“Sorry for wanting to grow old with you and retire together!” Gwil wails theatrically.

“Oh wow wow wow,” Rami says, shaking his head and smiling. Lucy is clutching a Malibu Sunset and trying to drag him back to the dancefloor, her polka dot dress swirling dreamily around her ankles.

“Wait,” Joe begins, “this is awkward, I definitely already purchased adjacent burial plots for me and Ben and the cemetery has a strict no-Welshmen policy, so...”

Laughing, you turn to Ben, and all at once the two of you are alone in this deafening and pulsing space. He takes another draw, the lit end of his cigarette glowing like embers, his eyes—green like envy, like a snake’s skin, like insatiable greed—all over you: your lips, your neck, your chest, lower. Something deep and shapeless ripples through you, déjà vu or recognition or desire or all of that and more; you want to reach out and touch his flushed flawless skin with your fingertips, you want to make sure he’s real. Gwil and Rami and Lucy are engrossed in some conversation about the best neighborhoods for apartment hunting in London, but Joe’s squinting suspiciously at you and Ben through the veil of smoke. You can’t fool him.

“Right,” Ben says suddenly, crushing the rest of his cigarette in an ashtray. “I’ve got to run. Y/N, do you want a lift home?”

This is just for show, just for the low-profile arrangement; of course you want to leave with him. You’ll follow him anywhere. “That’d be greatly appreciated.” As you climb out of the booth, Ben slips his phone from his pocket to call an Uber.

Joe waves, still thoughtful. “See you soon, Sweet Caroline!”

“Oh god, let’s never talk about that again.”

Rami gives you a sophisticated peck on each cheek, Lucy a spirited hug and a delighted little squeal; her oversized dangling earrings drag along your cheek as you pull away. Gwil takes your hands firmly in his own. “It was wonderful to meet you, love,” he says. “Come along anytime.”

“You’ve all been so kind!” you gush tipsily, and that’s the truth; they’ve been almost preposterously welcoming.

“Yeah yeah, you’ve stolen the show,” Ben says affectionately, maybe even proudly, guiding you towards the front of the club with his palm pressed lightly against the small of your back. “Cheers! We’ll do this again soon,” he calls back to the others. Joe and Gwil dramatically blow kisses after him as you push through the crowds and out into the windswept, luminescent Los Angeles night.

“What’s the hurry—?”

“Can I take you home now?” His voice is rushed and breathless; he’s doing that nervous thing he does where he glances around distractedly and bites his lips and shifts his weight from one foot to the other and runs his thumb over his chin.

“Of course,” you answer, your words hushed like clouds muting the moonshine.

A red Porsche rolls up along the sidewalk and Ben opens the door for you.

“I need you to do something for me,” you say when you’re both in the car and zooming through traffic towards the suburbs.

“Anything.”

Your gaze is devouring his high cheekbones—Eli’s, just like Eli’s—as the streetlights pass overhead, his messy hair and barely-there smile and all that lives under his fierce exterior, kindness and strength and wit and love. Love. “I need you to quit smoking.”

He laughs at you; that’s not what he expected. “Seriously?”

“I don’t want you to die young. I don’t want to lose you.” You can’t stand that thought. You’ve known him for three weeks and you’re hooked like a fucking swordfish; he’s in your bones, your blood, your lungs, he’s dragging you up from the depths and into blinding, open air.

This is too soon. This is way too soon. You don’t know this guy at all.

And yet somehow you do, somehow it feels like you always have.

Ben reaches over and weaves his fingers through yours. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He follows you inside when the Uber pulls into your driveway; he’s not speaking, he doesn’t remove his jacket or his shoes. He begins flipping through your box of records as you lean against the kitchen counter, your arms crossed.

“This is a test,” you say with a smile.

Ben makes a selection at last, drops the record onto the turntable, and places the needle. The music begins, filling your tiny one-bedroom house, reverberating off the walls that you’ve painted mint green and lilac and teal and pastel rosy pink. He still isn’t looking at me.

“Interesting choice.” The song is Save Tonight by a Swedish artist called Eagle-Eye Cherry; it’s acoustic and simple and soulful. “That’s not very classic rock of you.”

“Go on and close the curtains

'Cause all we need is candlelight

You and me, and a bottle of wine

To hold you tonight.”

“The Nineties weren’t all bad.” Ben shrugs off his jacket and tosses it on the kitchen table, kicks aside his shoes, lays his phone face-down on the counter as if he’s just decided to stay. Then he comes to you.

“Well we know I'm going away

And how I wish, I wish it weren't so

So take this wine and drink with me

And let's delay our misery.”

There’s no questioning whether you’re going to let him touch you; there’s no question at all. The thought of not being with him is agonizing, cavernous, unbearable. You’ve never wanted someone like this. You’ve never wanted anything like this.

Ben cups your face in his hands and kisses you like he’s coming up for air, like you’re a high he’ll never get enough of. He tastes like cognac and whiskey and cigarettes and lust. Your back hits the refrigerator, and your magnets pop off and clatter against the tile floor; your fingers are knotting through his hair as his trace a path beneath your blouse. He asks if you’re okay—not with his voice but with his searching eyes—and you nod a desperate yes, yes, yes. Outside the stars are raging through the blackness, those same stars that lit up the sky above the dinosaurs just a few blinks of their immortal lifespans ago.

“Save tonight and fight the break of dawn,

Come tomorrow, tomorrow I'll be gone...”

“Oh shit...” Ben’s patting his pockets, flipping through his wallet. His eyes are wide and frantic. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him. “Wait, I’m sorry, you’re an actor, you probably get psychos trying to have your babies all the time, I totally understand if you don’t trust me—”

“I trust you,” he breathes, as if he’s just realizing it.

“I trust you too, Ben.”

“Don’t say it,” he whispers, almost pleads. “You don’t know me.”

“I do,” you insist, unbuttoning his shirt, lifting all that separates you away, peeling back secrets like layers of the earth.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Robert gets locked in the portacabin on a below freezing night while aaron is out for the night with Matty and co. xoxo

(Why must you torture my poor boy so?!)

Man vs door (AO3)

“Are you sure you don’t want to come along?” Aaron asks for the tenth time in as many minutes.

Robert sighs and switches the phone to his other ear.

“No, I’m going to stay here and finish the paperwork for that new client, and then I’m going home to take a long, hot shower.” He leans back in his chair and stretches. “This cold is in my bones. We need to buy another space heater for the cabin if we’re going to survive this winter. This thing barely does anything.”

Aaron laughs and Robert hears some yelling in the background.

“I think they’re waiting for you.”

“They can wait a bit longer.”

“Go. Have fun. Tell Matty congrats from me. I’ll be fine.” Robert insists.

“Alright… But next time you’re coming with. I don’t care how much work you’ll have on or how many clients you need to charm…”

“Next time I’ll come with and I’ll even get you to dance with me.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?”

Robert laughs now

“Both. Now go get hammered with Adam and Matty and I’ll be the one making you hangover food in the morning.”

“Best boyfriend ever.”

“I try.” Robert says, still feeling his heart skip a beat whenever Aaron calls him his boyfriend. “Now go. Don’t keep them waiting.”

“Ok, ok, I’m going…” Aaron says but Robert knows he’s making no move to end the call.

He hears someone (Adam maybe?) yell Aaron’s name and telling him to get a move on.

“Alright! I’m coming!” Aaron replies then turns back to the phonecall. “I won’t be back too late, I promise.”

“Don’t think about that. Just have fun.” Robert stresses.

“Next weekend we’re spending the entire weekend in bed.”

“Sounds good to me. Now go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah alright. See you tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Robert says and they end the call. He stretches again and gets up to make himself some tea. He stares out the window waiting for the kettle to boil and shivers. The weather has been horrendous for days, with talks of snow getting stronger every hour.

Even though he’s not really a clubbing kind of guy, he would’ve liked to have gone with Aaron and the rest. Just to spend some time with his boyfriend. He’s been working a lot lately, just to make Home James the success he knows it can be… and to save up enough money to leave cold and damp Yorkshire behind for a week or two and enjoy some sea, sand, sun, and most of all Aaron.

They have their own flat in the village but between the Dingles and Robert’s own family, they rarely get some peace and quiet. And some things, you just don’t want an audience for.

Things like asking your boyfriend to marry you.

Robert allows himself to daydream for a bit about getting down on one knee in the warm sand of a tropical beach, and giving Aaron the ring that’s been hidden at the back of his desk drawer for weeks. And the two of them celebrating by sipping fruity cocktails while the sun sets over the ocean.

He laughs to himself. Like Aaron will ever drink anything other than his usual lager.

The kettle finishes boiling and he makes himself a cuppa, warming his hands on the warm mug rather than drinking it.

“Alright. Focus.” he tells himself “Just another hour and it’s done.”

Only one hour turns into two and a half. Then three. Then three and a half. Robert’s eyes are stinging and he presses the heels of his hands into them. He glances at the time on his computer and notices it’s almost 1am.

He’s cold. He put on Aaron’s big winter coat, that he left in the cabin, about an hour ago, and moved the space heater to right beside his desk, but neither of those things are really helping anymore. And also his bladder is protesting at the many cups of tea he’s had to try stay warm.

He decides to call it a night and hopes Aaron will be home soon so he can snuggle up to him. That long hot shower can wait until morning.

He saves his work and shuts down his computer, and takes a minute to gather the rest of his things as well as make sure everything is unplugged and switched off.

He grabs his keys and bag, zips Aaron’s coat up a little higher and braces himself for the cold night air. Only the door doesn’t open.

“What the hell?” Robert mutters under his breath as he’s pushing and pulling on the handle. “Is it locked? It can’t be, can it? Did I lock it?”

He puts his key in the lock and tries to turn it but it doesn’t move. He checks and re-checks that he has the right key, but no matter what he tries, the door doesn’t open.

“What the fuck?” He says to himself and tries to look out the window to see if something might be blocking the door. He doesn’t have a clear view of the other side of the door, but the part he can see is clear.

“What’s going on?” he tries yanking on the door again to no avail and tries breaking it down like he’s seen people on TV do.

The door doesn’t open and he’s left with a sore shoulder.

He sits down at his desk again and pulls his phone out, happy to see it’s still on 32%.

He scrolls through his contacts, looking for someone to call to help him. The most logical choice would be Aaron but he doesn’t want to pull him away from his celebrations. And it would take ages for him to get there anyway.

Vic is his next option but he doesn’t want to give his sister a heart attack by calling her in the middle of the night.

Diane is out of the question too and so are the Kings. He doesn’t want to risk waking up their kids.

Just as he’s about to dial 999 and go through the embarrassment of having the fire department free him, his phone rings. Aaron.

“Hey.” he answers, trying to sound as normal as possible. “How’s your night going?”

“‘Salright. We went to bar west. For a bit. Adam’s idea.” Aaron says and Robert can tell he’s had a few too many.

“Really? I didn’t know Adam liked gay bars.”

“It’s the only place he can pull and doesn’t have to pay for his drinks! The barman has low standards.” Aaron says and laughs at his own joke, then turns serious. “I kissed someone. Someone… not you.”

“You what? Why?”

“Wait. No. He kissed me.” Aaron corrects himself. “He was a prat.”

“Right. And he kissed you?”

“Yes. We were just having a drink and then he just went for it.” Aaron explains and Robert lets him ramble for a minute while his heart rate returns to normal.

“Where are you now?” he interrupts.

“Uh… Wait. I’ll find out.” Aaron says and Robert hears some rustling and what he thinks is Matty asking someone where they are.

“About ten minutes from Emmerdale, mate. You’re not going to be sick are you? If you’re sick in my taxi, you’re cleaning it up yourself.”

“We’re fine!” Matty says a little too loudly. “Aaron just wants to get home to his loverrrr.” He says, rolling the r and giggling.

“We’re ten minutes from Emmerdale.” Aaron tells Robert, like he hasn’t just heard every word. “Are you home? I missed you. I miss your smile. And your eyes. And your voice. And your lips. And your hands. And your fingers. And your arse. And your d- ”

“WHOAH! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR THAT!” Robert hears Adam yell and for once he’s grateful for him. As much as he loves Aaron telling him those things, he doesn’t want it to be when he’s locked in at work and can’t do anything about it.

“I miss you too.” Robert settles on eventually. “I’m uh… I’m actually still at the scrapyard. Fancy coming to pick me up? We can walk home together.”

“Good idea!” Aaron exclaims like Robert just told him he discovered the next world wonder. He seems to forget about the conversation then and Robert hears him directing the taxi to the scrapyard.

“Are you sure, mate? I don’t want to leave you in the middle of nowhere to freeze to death trying to find your house.” the taxi driver says to Aaron.

“No. My boyfriend is there. He’s going to walk me home. He’s been working all night.”

“Right. And you’re sure it’s here? It says private property on the sign.”

“Yes!” Aaron says happily. “That’s my sign! I’m private! I mean… uh… this is mine. Look!” he jangles his keys.

“Right. Well… it’s your funeral.”

Robert ends the call when he sees a pair of headlights turning onto the scrapyard and Aaron, Adam, and Matty all but falling out of the car, minutes later.

“Hey! Robert!” Adam yells when he spots Robert standing in front of the window next to the door and walks up to him.

“Hey…” He replies and tries to get Aaron’s attention, who seems to be in the middle of a discussion with the taxi driver.

“Aren’t you coming out, mate?” Adam asks. “Again.” he says and giggles. “Because you’re bi, aren’t you? So you’ve already come out.”

“Yeah, yeah… Get Aaron for me please?”

“Aaron!” Adam bellows, probably waking up half the village in the process. “Your man wants you!”

Aaron looks up and smiles happily when he sees Robert.

“Rob! You’re still here!”

“Yeah. I told you I was, didn’t I?” Robert says, secretly amused by his drunk boyfriend. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a problem and I need you to help me.”

Aaron frowns and comes closer to the portacabin.

“Why?”

“The door won’t open. I’m locked in.”

“What? How?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve tried everything and it won’t open. Maybe it’s frozen shut?”

Aaron examines the door.

“There’s no ice on it.”

“Right. Well it’s still stuck somehow.”

“You could climb through the window.” Matty suggests.

“I’ll never fit through this tiny window Matty.” Robert snaps and Matty puffs and rolls his eyes at him.

“Maybe you should leave him in there, Aaron.”

Aaron ignores him and tries to put his key in the lock.

“You know what, I’ll just call 999.” Robert says and gets his phone out.

“Wait!” Aaron says and punches the air in triumph when he gets the key in the lock. He turns the key without any trouble, wiggles it a bit, pulls on the door a bit, and the door opens and he steps inside. “Problem solved!” He announces happily.

“What? How is that possible?” Robert asks, grabbing Aaron’s keys and comparing them to his own. “They’re the same.”

“Of course they are.” Aaron says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and steps closer to Robert. “So now you’re free…” He trails off. “Wanna get out of here?” He wraps his arms around him. “You’re all cold.”

“Yeah this place is freezing at night. That heater you bought won’t even keep our kitchen cabinet warm.”

Aaron frowns.

“Why would we need a warm kitchen cabinet?”

Robert sighs, shakes his head, and can’t help himself and presses a kiss to Aaron’s lips.

“Never mind. Let’s go home.”

He grabs his bag and his and Aaron’s keys and pulls the door shut behind him.

“We’re getting those locks replaced first thing.” He says as he wraps an arm around Aaron’s shoulders, while Aaron’s comes up around his waist almost automatically.

Aaron nods.

“But you’re still making me breakfast.”

[celestica-1988]

The heart tattoo

The Dirt! Motley Crue one shot

Being close friend of Nikki Sixx was one of the best things in your life.

You knew him since high school when you were both outcasts, he was actually the only one person who dared to talk to you during that times.

He was two years older than you and when you finally finished that fucking lager known as school you moved immediately to Los Angeles to stay with him.

At the time you two had a little thing going on, it didn’t last long, but you managed to be still friends each others. Through him you got to know Mötley Crüe and especially Tommy Lee, who was your current crush.

But at the moment the drummer was the last of your thoughts, you were at a pool party and you caught Nikki looking at you more than one time.

Intrigued by that you reached him on the beach chair he was lying on.

He was drunk as fuck, nothing new for you.

“Ohi, Nikki.” “Ohi, Y/N.”

He starred at you in silence, the thing started to be awkward.

“What’s up, Sixx?

Haven’t you seen a girl in bikini before?” “Countless times and I saw even more naked girls.” He blinked, you snorted and rolled your eyes.

“So, why do you look at me the whole night?

Do you miss me?” “Pff. As I didn’t know you have a soft spot for Tommy.

I wasn’t watching you, I was watching your tattoos.” You were puzzled, since when Nikki was interested in looking other people’s tattoos?

He pointed to the stick and poke tattoo you had on the left thigh: a heart with two crossed bones on it.

“Did you do it by yourself?”

You rolled your eyes again because you told him that story a million of times before.

“Off course, I told you countless times. I did it the night before leaving Seattle when I fought with my mother for the last time.” That tattoo symbolized the difficult relationship you had with your mother and Nikki knew this too, but when he was drunk he forgot a lot of things about everyone.

“Yea, true. So, can you tattoo me?” You almost chocked on your beer.

“What?” “Give me a tattoo, Y/N.” “No way in hell, Sixx. What if it gets infected or you regret it after tonight?” “Come on, Y/N.” “No.” But you knew he was a persistent man and this was just the first round.

 An hour later you gave up.

He kept asking you every thirty seconds, he was persistent and merciless and you grew a headache from annoyance.

“Ok, Sixx. I give up, but you have to shut your fucking mouth.

And if it gets infected or you’ll end up regretting it once sober I don’t wanna know shit about it!”

He raised his hands and screamed, you let out a sigh, completely defeated by the bassist.

“Tommy, Vince, even you, old man. Come all here!”

“Fuck off, Sixx.” You chuckled ad Mick’s response.

In the end the whole band gathered around you two, yes, even Mick.

“Y/N is gonna give me a tattoo, so I thought: let’s all get a tattoo.” Tommy eyes lighted up immediately, he was the kind of person who get excited easily.

“Fuck yes, man. Let’s do this.

I’m ready.” “Vince?” The singer was so coked up that just nodded, he didn’t even understand the question probably.

“Mick?”

“On a scale of 1 to 10 your idea is a solid 20 for idiocy.” “Come on, Mick. Don’t be such a bitch! You are my friends, you are my family.

Let’s celebrate it with a tattoo.” “Damn, Sixx. How the fuck could I say no to this?” “Does this mean that you are in?” “I am.”

At this point the band had a group hug, it was sweet but it didn’t help since you were panicking in silence, inside your head. During that brief exchange of words your anxiety grew up so much that it could reach the fucking moon. You had to tattoo four grown up men, drunk as hell and with the risk to mess up with their health.

“Y/N, what do you need?” “A sewing needle, ink, disinfectant I guess. Oh, and a marker!”

Nikki got up and after a few minutes he came back with what you asked for.

You took the needle and a lighter, you lighted it up and put the tip of the needle over the flame.

Some seconds after the tip was orange.

It was all ready and set up.

One by one you tattooed all the guys.

Nikki was ecstatic about it, he kept talking forgetting the promise of keep his mouth shut.

Tommy was excited, he asked you where you learned to tattoo and a lot of things.

Vince just looked at you before you started and said: “Will this tattoo make me hotter for the chicks?” “Hotter than lava.” You said with a sarcastic smiled that went completely wasted.

Mick was the only one calm and silent.

You appreciated it a lot.

Some hours later all the guys had a sloppy heart tattooed on their wrists and you were tired like hell.

 The day after you woke up at a scream in an unfamiliar bed.

It took you a while to figured it out that the person was screaming profanity was your crush Tommy and that you were at Nikki’s house because you passed out at the party.

You followed the voice and reached the kitchen, all the guys were there and they were looking their wrists with a confused look.

“Why the fuck have I matching tattoo with y’all? An heart??”

That was Vince.

“Don’t look at me, Vinnie. I have no fucking idea how this heart ended up here, too.” “As I believe you, Lee! You always the one starting shitty pranks!”

“Shut up! I have a fucking headache!

And I have no fucking idea when, where and why I got this tattoo.” This was Nikki in his unstable hang over mood.

You exchanged a quick look with Mick, both of you were grinning like the Cheshire Cat himself.

The others kept fighting like children, but that was what you love in them and you were proud to give them the infamous tattoo. And happy to be the only one –beside Mick – to know why Nikki asked you do that in the first place.

After all they were a real family.

[loribos]

New Post has been published on Toronto Events, Activities and Entertainment

New Post has been published on http://www.torontonicity.com/2017/08/18/beach-chair-lager-from-p-e-i/

Beach Chair Lager from P.E.I. Now Sold in Ontario

By Lori Bosworth

For many, the season of summer is synonymous with beer. Beer goes with so many summer activities including attending a Toronto Blue Jays game, having a backyard barbecue or visiting friends at their cottage. Hot, humid days seem to lose their edge once you take a sip of an ice-cold beer. Craft beers are all the rage, but it’s hard to know which craft beers you will enjoy and there is now such a huge selection available. Recently, we got a chance to try Beach Chair Lager from PEI Brewing Company.

Beach Chair Lager is light and clean tasting.

Just like the name implies, this East Coast lager is light and refreshing, although still maintaining a full-bodied taste. Beach Chair Lager is not bitter and there are no after notes. It’s the perfect beer for hot summer days. Even one of the non-beer drinkers in our group enjoyed this lager, so it’s definitely a beer to keep on hand for a variety of guests. And one of its outstanding features is it’s the first craft beer produced in Atlantic Canada that is available in a can.

Beach Chair Lager from PEI Brewing Company

Beach Chair Lager is now available at select The Beer Store locations in Ontario. It’s a great beer to bring to a cottage if you are attending as guests since it has a real summer taste to it.

The PEI Brewing Company won four gold medals at last year’s Canadian Brewing Awards, making them Canada’s most awarded brewery in 2016. In addition to Beach Chair Lager, the company brews the Gahan Line of Handcrafted Ales, as well as Rogue’s Roost. 

Beach Chair Lager

Pick up some Beach Chair Lager at select The Beer Stores and share your pics on social media with #ShareAChair .

Follow Beach Chair Lager on Instagram: @peibrewing Twitter: @peibrew Facebook: facebook.com/peibrewingcompany

[mellicose]

That Woman Over There - Chapter 16

A You Me and Him Fix-it Fic

Rating: Teen, for some profanity and mature themes

Word count: 4880

Warnings: none

Summary: ~ Set after the birth of Monty, Olivia’s baby ~ A dear friend of Olivia comes to visit for a week, and she disturbs the fragile peace between her, Alex, and John.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11| Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15

He ran back upstairs, beaming. “Got a really nice table, and they’ve got the oxtails simmering as we speak,” he said, and kissed her cheek noisily.

“Same place?” she said.

“No … did you want to go again? I can give ‘em a call if you like.”

“No,” she said. “It’s nice it’s not the same restaurant.” She shrugged. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her.

“We had our first kiss there. Is it because it’s, kinda, 'our place' now?”

She groaned. “Are we going to be the ‘our song’, ‘our park’, ‘our breakfast cereal’ type of couple?”

“So we’re a couple?” he said, lifting her off her feet.

“I mean, two people with things in common who enjoy each other’s company…” she said.

“In myriad ways,” he purred into her ear.

“Go on,” she said, wrapping her legs around him.

“I could, but it’s mostly because we had our little crispy potato date there, right?”

She nodded. He gently let her down and ran back downstairs without another word. She followed, and he nearly knocked her over trying to get back up the stairs. He held a long, flat box.

“What’s that?”

He handed it to her. “I saw it in the window and it just screamed you.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited as she sat on a step and opened the box. Nestled in marbled pink tissue was the most lovely dress she’d ever seen.

“Oh my God,” she said, shaking it out. It was a gleaming shade of yellow. She popped up and pressed it against her body. “It’s so gorgeous!” She ran upstairs and stripped quickly in his bedroom.

“Let me help you zip,” he said. The zipper went up easily until he reached the top.

“Oof! Let me just-” she pressed her breasts to her chest. “Okay, try now.” It went up, but it was a tight fit. She turned and held her arms out. “Tada!” Her breasts were tempting mounds pushed high on her chest by the tailoring.

“Enticing,” he said, putting his hands on her waist. He turned her to the mirror. “You like?”

“It’s so … yellow,” she said, caressing the skirt down. The crinoline underneath to make it puff up made her legs itch, but it was nostalgic since her mom made her wear them when she was a girl. She wondered what she might say if she saw her now, in John’s arms. Would she tell her she looked beautiful? Would she notice how happy she was, or would she veer the conversation to her own pains?

“What are you thinking?” he said, looking at her face in the mirror. She snapped out of it and noticed the corners of her mouth pointed down. She gave him a radiant grin.

“Nothing important. I love the dress. It’s perfect. Really,” she said, and kissed him. She twirled a couple times for him, and the skirt spun high up on her thighs.

“Marilyn has nothing on you,” he said, sitting down to stare. She bounced on his lap and kissed him.

🌹🌹🌹

“This is only time you’ll see me sucking on a bone,” Alex said, giggling as she licked every last bit of sauce from the osso buco.

“Al!” Olivia said, shaking her head.

“You love it,” Alex said. She winked at her, and kept sucking.

“I’m absolutely stuffed. Thanks so much for dinner,” Olivia said as she spooned some rice gruel into Monty’s mouth.

“I love feeding you ladies,” he said, stretching and putting his arm over both Connie and Alex’s chairs. “It’s the least I can do, anyway, for your introducing me to Connie.”

“Uhuh,” Alex said. The stripped bone clicked on her plate. “So what’s the plan, Daddy Manbucks? What are you gonna do with your time now?”

He sighed and put his hands on his knees. “Well, first of all, I’m gonna make Mrs. Mulligan’s desk. I don’t know know much beyond that.”

“You’re a born computer nerd, man. You’re telling me you’re not gonna do anything else IT-related?” she said. She raised her hand to a passing waiter and asked for the dessert menu.

“Sure,” he said. “I have some embryonic thoughts about that, but for now, I want to enjoy the space I’m in for a bit.” She pulled Connie closer, and she turned and kissed him. Olivia’s nose twitched, but she remained silent.

“Fuck, I’d already be planning my 6 month stay at a surfing retreat in Costa Rica if I suddenly got hold of a couple million quid,” Alex said. Olivia’s eyes widened - it was impolite to speak about money that way. Alex patted her knee. “Of course you and Monty would be coming as well. Duh.”

“I’m a terrible surfer,” Connie said. “But the flora and the food there is gorgeous.”

“You’ve been?” Alex said, leaning in.

“We’ve been,” Connie said, pointing to Olivia.

“You saucy tart, why didn’t you tell me?” Alex said, nudging her. Monty giggled.

“It was right after graduating uni-”

Connie interrupted. “-It was a surprise, and I don’t think she would’ve come if I hadn’t told her we were going to Blackpool for the weekend.”

“Don’t think you were being terribly clever. You mentioned before hating Blackpool. That it was nothing compared to Caribbean beaches-”

“Eh, that’s a bit rude. I’ve had some lovely times in Blackpool,” John said, looking at Connie.

“I’m sure you have, mate,” Alex said, rolling her eyes.

“Not like that. It was one of the only places outside of Scotland my ma liked to go on holiday when I was a boy.”

Alex bit her lip. “Were people cruel? There’s no way to hide a brace at the beach,” she asked bluntly.

“Sometimes. But I was halfway used to it by then. A spin on the ferris wheel and a 99 and all pain was forgotten,” he said. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t gone in over a decade. That’s mad.”

“A bit of lager. A bit of gambling. Lots of pretty girls in bikinis,” Alex said nostalgically. She turned to Olivia. “We should go.”

“I don’t gamble,” she said, pulling Monty out of the high chair.

“Yeah you do,” Alex said. Olivia was confused. Alex’s mouth broke into a grin, and she began to sing softly. “If you change your mind, I’m the first in line…”

Connie laughed, and sang along. “Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me…”

“If you need me let me know, gonna be around,” John sang in his rusty falsetto.

“If you’ve got no place to go, if you’re feeling down,” Alex sang, keeping the beat on the table. Olivia’s face reddened. She grabbed Alex’s hands as the maitre’d approached, obviously irritated by the noise.

“Is everything to your satisfaction?” he asked them in a nasal posh accent. His eyes darted from face to face, gauging sobriety.

“Brilliant, Jeeves. Could you fetch us another bottle of cham? Your finest bottle of Dom Perig-nawn, if you please,” Alex chirped.

John groaned.

The man breathed in slowly. “I will let your server know,” he said, and started walking away.

“Wait!” Alex said, holding her hand up. He did a crisp about face. “And the daily special - the panna cotta? One of those as well. Extra panna.” She looked around at them. “You want something?” They all shook their heads no. The man nodded, then left.

“Why did you have to give him so much trouble?” John said.

“One of my stepfathers was a maitre’d,” she said, sucking her teeth. “One of ‘em. He was an asshole.” She shrugged.

“Then you should know it’s a good idea to be nice to the people who serve you,” Connie said. “Kaylie’s husband is a restaurateur in New York. You wouldn’t believe what even the high end places get into,” she shook her head. “That’s why I pray before I eat.”

“I didn’t hear you say grace tonight,” Alex said.

“I did it silently,” Connie said, and winked at her. She reached over to squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry your stepfather was such a jerk,” she said, and kissed it. Alex was disarmed by the easy affection.

“He wasn’t a creep or anything,” she said. “Just … he was bitter and horrible to my mam. He wasn’t even that fit either, but she thought it was nice that he served all the posh mucky mucks in town. I eventually told her it wasn’t contagious,” she said. “Oh, and speaking of mucky mucks, you all set for LA?” she asked Connie.

“I was. I think. A lot has happened in the last couple of days,” she said. “It’s crazy busy, and I have to be hyper-focused.” She rubbed her face.

“I think you ruined her focus, John,” Alex said, and chuckled.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hugging her.

“Don’t ever be sorry. It’s just been a while since I’ve been in this particular headspace,” she said, smiling at him.

“Oooh,” Alex said softly, and poured the last of the champagne in her glass.

“Darling, could you hold Monty? I’ve got to-” Olivia pointed toward the restroom.

“Me too,” Connie said, and stood with her. “I’ll be right back,” she said to John.

“I wait with bated breath,” he said, and kissed her.

“Cornball,” she said, and followed Olivia.

🌹🌹🌹

Alex bounced Monty on her knee. “So, it’s going well?” she said.

“Yeah,” he said simply, and put his elbows on the table. “It’s strange. It’s been … so easy.”

Alex snorted. John rolled his eyes. “So what’s up your snout?” he asked. They could both play that game.

“How do you mean?”

“You’ve been … I can’t even put my finger on it, but… it’s like you don’t like her.”

“Are you asking for approval? I gave you the keys to the kingdom. Do you think I would do that if I thought she was a bitch?” He winced at the word, and her face softened.

“She’s nice,” he said, but the inflection of his voice demanded approval.

“Why do you care what I think anyway? At least, after Alfie?” she said.

He shivered. “That got weird quickly,” he said. “You still talk to her?”

“After you shagged, she told you that she felt like she had sort of shagged me too, through you. What do you think?”

They laughed, and he stole a sip of her champagne. He was glowing in a way she had never seen, and she didn’t quite know why it discomfited her. He tried to break her and Olivia up, and after truly getting to know him, it was not something he would’ve done had he not felt very strongly for her…

He coughed, then drank down the rest of the champagne as the server came with a fresh bottle and poured them both a glass.

“To new beginnings,” he said, holding his glass up.

“To lasting friendship,” she said, and clinked it.

They took a sip and he smiled. “It was a very good year. You’ve got excellent taste.”

“If it’s on you, absolutely,” she said, and winked. He looked impatiently around for Connie, and it filled her with bittersweetness. There was once a time, not so long ago, where he might’ve done the same thing for her. She told him in no uncertain terms that it was not what she wanted, but he choss to stay and be a friend to her and Olivia. And it was nice, after everything that happened, to have him near. She wasn’t an island. Her pain was his pain.

But ever since he set eyes on Connie, he was gone. She felt it in her bones. She knew the look well - she had seen it on too many men’s faces while growing up. They would come, get what they wanted from her mam, play house for a bit, but once the game got stale they were off to the next one.

“What are you mulling?” he said, sucking foam from his glass.

“John, I’m sorry,” she said. She looked down at the amber bubbles.

“Why?” he said, looking at his cellphone for the time.

“I was a jerk to you when we first met. I’m sorry about that, but you were such an overeager douchelord poser - a giant, too wide-smiling, mouthbreathing dorkass nerd-”

“Okay,” he said, smiling.

“-A too tall, too skinny, too clever pseudo-dweebling who was trying way too hard to be anyone but who you-”

He grabbed her wrist lightly and squeezed. “I think I get it now. You really don’t need to continue.”

She looked at his hand. His touch was just as gentle as it ever was, but not quite as warm. Not anymore.

“It would’ve been nice,” she said quickly, and swallowed.

“What?” he said.

“If we had Jo. You would’ve been a great father,” she said, her brow furrowing with passion. He squeezed her hand.

“Thanks, Al,” he said. “You would’ve been the most beautiful, fun ma ever. You will be, I mean. Right?” he said.

“I suppose. We might try after I finish school,” she said. He still held her hand. He squeezed again.

“Brilliant!” he said excitedly.

“Yeah,” she said, but her eyes didn’t rise from the champagne flute.

“Would you have been okay with sharing with Liv, if Jo was here?” she said.

His eyes grew. The wine was making her almost too frank.

“I would’ve had to, right? Outside of being the best father I could to her, I had no other choice in the matter,” he said. He eyed her. Her cheeks were rosy with wine, and black kohl bled around her lovely blue eyes. She looked … stressed. He felt something in her. Something different. “Right?” he repeated, trying to get her to look at him.

“I’ve always been so sure about what I wanted. At least when it came to women,” she said, letting out a chuckle. “I was the friendly neighborhood lezza since I was 12. I liked that role. It was … rebellious. I felt better than my mam, and all the silly girls going after their lame little pashes at school. Ugh,” she said, shaking her head. “Disgusting, smelly lot, teen boys are. They never did anything for me. Not that I felt the need to try, even for the sake of science.”

He laughed.

“It was the one thing I could count on about myself. That knowledge. Even when I didn’t really know what I wanted to do in my life, I knew I wanted to do pretty girls,” she said.

“I think you said that already,” he said jokingly. “I agree wholeheartedly. About the girls, at least. And maybe a bit about the teenage boys. Smelly creatures.”

“I bet you weren’t smelly,” she said, drinking deep.

“I beg to differ,” he said. “I might not have gotten around much then, but I had a heady stink,” he said. “My ma complained constantly about it.”

“Too topical, mate,” she said, smiling.

“Then what are you trying to say?” He said.

Her belly muscles were trembling. Why was she so goddamned contrary? Who else could she tell but him? She had been thinking about it for weeks when Olivia told her Connie was coming to visit. She thought nothing of it then, and that besides the possible drama, nothing would change. But everything had changed. She heard Connie’s tears before their little talk, and knew intimately how she felt, and why she cried. But she had to cry her tears on her own. How could she confide such a thing to Olivia, and after everything that happened, to big, nerdy, lovely John?

“Do you regret what happened, that night at your divorce do?” she said. “Do you even remember it?”

“Not much. We slammed a bottle of vodka between the two of us.” He sounded casual, but his senses were tingling.

“Didn’t affect you much,” she said. Her cheeks burned.

“What is this talk?” he said, trying to keep it light.

“I honestly don’t know anymore, man,” she said. “But I remember. I was wasted, but I didn’t black out.”

John looked around again, then texted Connie. “They are taking their sweet bloody time in the loo,” he said.

“Maybe Connie’s got diarrhea. You know, the nervous squirts,” she said.

He wrinkled his nose. “I hope not,” he said. “Where were we? You don’t know ... something.”

“I remember that night well,” she said. “How angry I was at Olivia. And how you looked at me. Lecherous twat.”

“My mother raised me right, but I have limits. Your shirt was see-through.”

“It was in style,” she said.

“Uhuh,” he said. “Is this a consent issue? Do you feel okay about what happened?” he said, concerned.

“Naw, man, I ran up those stairs. You didn’t force it for a second,” she said. The tremble had moved to her hands. He hugged himself. She wasn’t usually so circuitous in her speech.

“Right,” he said.

She drank the glass of champagne in two gulps and sighed. “I didn’t hate it, I’ll tell you that.”

“Alright, maybe that’s enough of the good stuff for you,” he said. He reached for the bottle, but she grabbed his wrist.

“John, something’s different. And I don’t know who to tell. Can’t call Alfie. Can’t tell Olivia. In fact, I don’t think it’s even relevant. Or is it? I don’t fucking know,” she ran her fingers through her hair with frustration.

“What’s going on? You were just telling me this morning how well things were getting again. In vivid detail,” he said, raising his brows high. “I don’t like seeing you like this. Talk to me.”

“I’m still in my 20’s. I lost a child, and I’ve got a lovely fiancée and a baby and a nice house in the suburbs. Just three years ago, even the thought of those things was thousands of miles away from my comfort zone, but I’ve adjusted. That’s life, right?”

“I suppose so,” he said. Her hand trembled on his wrist.

“And the hits just keep on comin’,” she said, giving him a plaintive look.

“We’ve done pretty damn good regardless, right?” he said. His face broke into a warm grin as he spied Connie walking up behind her.

“Everything come out okay?” Alex said.

“The bathroom was so nice it felt more like a posh dressing room,” Connie said, sitting beside John with a sigh.

“I guess we had a bit of a chat,” Olivia said, picking up Monty. “Since we haven’t had much time to talk lately.” She gave John a mock grave look.

“I’ve selfishly stolen her away,” he said, pouring her a glass of champagne. He shot Alex a look, but her face had settled back to cheeky loveliness. He couldn’t make out what she was trying to tell him, and he was unused to having to try.

The waiter came with the panna cotta, and Monty squealed with glee.

“You can’t have any,” Olivia said, shaking her head at the baby.

“Come on. Let him have a tiny taste,” Alex said, holding up the silver dessert spoon.

“You also fed him a tiny taste of cream yesterday at the party,” Olivia said.

“And?”

“The diaper changes were a horror. He’s not ready for it yet,” she said.

“I was eating spagbol before I could get a sentence out,” she said, waving her hand. “He can have a bit of pudding.” He waved it in front of the baby’s eager mouth.

Olivia pushed the spoon away. “He’s my son. And I said no.”

Alex dropped the spoon in the glass bowl. “Of course. Your son. How dare I intercede?”

“I think it’s time we headed out. We’ve been here for over two hours, and Monty looks wiped,” John said.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all night,” Alex said sardonically, and rose.

“You can go on ahead. I’ll pay and be right behind you,” John said. “Thanks for joining us for dinner. I love you all.” He kissed Monty and gave Alex another look. He knew they had to finish the conversation she started.

🌹🌹🌹

He was quiet on the drive back. Connie put her hand on his knee, and he picked it up and kissed it.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said.

“It was my pleasure,” he said. “Did you like the place?”

“It was beautiful,” she said. Although they were still new, she could feel that he was deep in his thoughts. “Alex and Olivia were a bit interesting at the end. Does that happen often?”

“Not as much anymore,” he said.

“Oh.” She sighed and looked out the passenger’s side window. “It’s growing pains. They’ll go away,” she said, but her voice faded to nothing.

“Olivia likes things just so. I guess the same applies to her son,” he said. “It makes sense.”

“Hmm,” she said. “It’s not that cut and dried.”

“She carried him,” he said.

“She did,” Connie said, but she wouldn’t look at him.

“What’s wrong?” he said, and hissed at the frustration in his voice. First it was Alex with her cryptic speech, then Olivia, and now Connie.

“It’s … not easy. To hear that, all the time, when you’re doing the best you can. My son. My daughter. Not stated like the fact it is, but as control.” She looked at him, and sadness made her eyes shine. He caressed her. “After all they’ve been through, I’m surprised Olivia would say it that way.”

“Are you, though?” he said. He wasn’t trying to be rude. Her behavior was just on par with who he knew Olivia to be. A bit high-strung. A bit snappish. But ultimately kind.

“I don’t know,” she said. “She’s a mom now. Of course she changed.”

“But you sound surprised,” he said, rubbing her knee. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He had said that way too many times tonight. He hoped she might actually do it.

“It’s, uh...” she shrugged. “Ella did it to me. Whenever she wanted to really stick the knife in deep. She would use the word my, and not our, despite our shared life. My Poppy. My girl.”

“Poppy was her girl. But you were raising her together, right?”

“Were raising,” she said. “Until she decided we weren’t working out, and took her away. It’s excruciating. And cruel.”

The atmosphere was getting heavier, but he didn’t know how to respond.

“I just can’t believe Olivia said that,” she said. He shrugged.

“How would you feel if Josie was here, and after a while, Alex requested that you give her up for adoption?”

He shook his head. “Impossible. It would be a hard no.”

Connie nodded quietly. “So you think that your feelings would make a difference?”

“They better. She was my daughter. My blood. I wouldn’t sign shit,” he said, squirming with discomfort. “What’s your point?”

Even if her and Olivia got married, Alex would never do something like that, would she? Take his daughter away, make her call him uncle or some such nonsense? He snorted. Nah. She wasn’t like that.

She looked at his changing facial expressions as he thought things through. When they pulled into the driveway, the whole mood had changed to silence. She sighed as he helped her out of the car.

“I think I should  go talk to Olivia,” she said.

“Of course. We don’t have to spend every waking moment together,” he said. “It’s been a really intense 24 hours.”

“True,” she said, but she squeezed his hand. “Can I knock on your door after I’m done? Or do you prefer to be alone tonight?”

He squeezed back. “Knock. Please.”

As she jumped the low hedge, a raindrop stung on her shoulder. Two more landed on her cheek and dripped off her chin.

“Looks like rain,” he said, his hands in his pockets.

“Considering how perfect it’s been for the last three days, it’s about time,” she said. She waved, and walked into the house.

🌹🌹🌹

“If he’s so much your boy, keep im’ then!” Alex yelled, and slammed the back door.

She stomped around the garden, trying to get her head together. No matter how hard she tried to explain why what she said hurt her, she would not be moved. Olivia didn’t think she had done anything wrong.

John ran around and hopped the ledge. “I heard that all the way from the kitchen. You okay?” he said. She walked across to his yard and sat on his back steps.

“I don’t know. I really, truly don’t know. It’s like, everything’s happening at the same time and I can’t process it,” she said, hugging her knees. He went inside for a blanket and put it around her shoulders. It was getting chilly.

“Talk to me,” he said. She looked at him, and the heavy, expensive watch hanging off his wrist. He’d worn it especially for his date, since he never wore a watch. Why did that make her heart wrench with tenderness? Her throat burned with it.

She shot up. “That sugar and cham has got me wired as fuck. Let’s take a walk. I need to burn this off,” she said, and started down the driveway.

“Wait! Let me get-” he ran inside for an umbrella, then caught up to her on the sidewalk. She walked resolutely, her arms pumping at her sides. He opened the umbrella over her and tried to keep up.

She turned the corner, headed toward the high street. A giggle bubbled from her lips, then she shook her head.

“What did Olivia say?” he said. He was going at a jog to keep up with her.

“I don’t want to talk about Olivia,” she said. Her blue eyes were burning.

“Okay,” he said. The walked a block in silence. The rain got heavier, and soon cold water dripped off the side not covered by the umbrella. But he kept the umbrella high over her head.

She stopped suddenly. “Why didn’t you tell me first?”

“Tell you what first?” he said. He was beginning to shiver.

“About selling your site. Why��d you tell Connie first?”

“I don’t know. I tried to tell you like 10 times, but it seemed like something else more important would come up. Also, I didn’t want to steal her thunder.”

“Pfft,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Ms. Posh Diplomat has enough thunder for a hundred years.” She started off again. Rainwater turned her short blond hair to dripping spikes on her neck.

“Did she say something to you?” he said. It was hard to keep up with her, and she was getting wetter than him.

Alex thought back on the talk they had last night, before she went to him. On her questions. She had to basically spell out the fact that John was honestly the best bloke on the planet. What kind of horsecockery is that? If she couldn’t see it, she didn’t deserve him. But she was refined and pretty and successful in a way she would never be. Of course it was easy for her to-

“You’re talking, but I can’t hear you, Al,” he said over the roar of the rain. She had been moving her lips.

“Of course it’s easy for a woman like that to get what she wants,” she said. “Ms. fucking perfect,” she hissed. Hot tears cut through the cold on her cheeks.

“No one’s perfect. But I have to admit, I’m pretty close,” he said, trying to get a rise out of her. Surely, she would throw a couple of insults his way, and then maybe she would tell him what was eating away at her. But she just gave him a wounded look and walked faster.

“You’re getting soaked,” he said helplessly, and looked down at himself. He was drenched. With a sigh, he closed the umbrella and slung it over his shoulder. She sat down on a bench under a young oak and looked out on the street. It was getting late, and the lights were disappearing as the shops closed. He sat down beside her and pulled the blanket from her shoulders, wrung it out, then put it back. Black bled down her cheeks, and her narrow lips were clenched with emotion.

“We are going to get so ill,” he said, wincing as fat droplets plinked on his skull from the leaves above. The street in front of them shone molten gold in the lamp light. “And, even worse, anyone who passes will think us completely mad.”

“You could’ve texted me. Called me. Taken me aside,” she said softly. “But I really would’ve liked it if you told me first.”

He rubbed her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Al. I didn’t think it was such a big deal-”

“Not a big deal?” she said, looking at him incredulously. “You did something huge.”

“Big, yes, but hardly-” he started, but she punched his thigh.

“You moved beyond. You grew the fuck up. I knew you weren’t that self-involved, affected jerkwad,” she said. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are. Best friends,” he said, taking her hand. “Way more than best. You’re one of the best human beings I know, and nearly the mother of my firstborn.”

She took a shivering breath. “Then why didn’t you insist?” she asked.

That’s it. What she had been hinting at all night.  His mouth dropped open.

Next Chapter

[lower-east-side]

Draco vs The Volcano

Hello all! My wifi connection in Martinique is spotty af. I feel like I've missed a lot of crazy shit on Tumblr. Also an insane amount of chaos has reigned on this trip and it's been almost as stressful as relaxing. Last night I had to drive down a twisty jungle mountainside road in a torrential downpour! But I'm trying to enjoy the tropical warmth, and I was inspired for a short little Drarry.

It’s totally cliche, the plot is forced, and I don’t care. No beta, written in the morning rather quickly. A lizard just ran across my laptop.

(H/D, E, 3k)

***

Sun, sea, and sugar. Draco was desperate for all three, after completing his grueling potions apprenticeship. He had a month before his new position as a St. Mungo's brewer started, and was determined to relax. His mother had gifted him with a trip to an all-inclusive wizarding resort on a hidden island in the Antilles, and he had never loved her so much.

A week had already flown by, and Draco had done nothing but nap on the beach, drink copious amounts of rum, and appreciatively watch various fit wizards toss a Quaffle around on the sand. He was currently ensconced at the beach bar, slowly sipping a Mai Tai, trying to decide if he would go out to dinner that night or take room service, when an all too familiar voice piped up behind him.

"Does this place have lager?"

No. No.

Draco slowly turned around, and there he was. Bane of his existence, Harry Potter.

"Didn't I see enough of you over the past year, Potter?" he spat. It was true; the oft-injured Auror trainees had been the guinea pigs for Draco's potions classes.  Potter was still as annoying as ever, but he'd also grown infuriatingly attractive, and Draco had been forced to see his bare skin in the infirmary far too often. Potter simply blinked in surprise. "Malfoy. Come for a holiday, too?"

"No, I'm simply here to make potions out of rum and sand. Of course I'm here on holiday, you idiot. It's the sole purpose of this place."

Harry merely shrugged Draco's insult off. "Ron and Hermione basically forced me here, said I needed to relax. Seems alright so far. Don't they have a decent ale here, though?"

Draco sighed in exasperation. "Only you would come to the tropics to get sloshed on beer." Harry eyed him for a moment, and Draco felt strangely on display, before approaching the bar very close to Draco. "Well, what are you drinking," he said, his voice suddenly softer. Draco gulped, unnerved by the proximity.

"It's a Mai Tai. Two rums, orgeat and lime."

"I don't know what one of those things is. Tell me something else to order."

"Pina colada?"

"Don't much like coconut." He leaned closer still.

"Sex on the Beach!" Draco blurted out, before turning red. He'd no idea why he said that.

Harry winked. "Sounds good to me." As he turned to the bar to order, Draco slipped away, burning with embarrassment.

He'd have to make an effort to avoid Potter the rest of his time here.

***

Two days later, Draco lay stretched out on a beach chair under a large umbrella. He enjoyed the sea air, but was wary of his complexion, so he'd smeared a sun-blocking potion of his own creation all over his pale skin. A floral eye mask blocked most of the rays from his closed eyes, allowing him to nap, but the tropical sun was so bright he could still tell when a cloud passed over.

He'd nearly managed to doze off when the light behind the eye mask darkened, and stayed that way.  That's a rather large cloud, he thought, and moved to uncover his eyes. Maybe a storm was coming.

A storm named Harry Potter, apparently.

Potter stood over him, his feet dug in the black sand, a fruity drink in his hand. "You were right," he said vaguely.

"I usually am, but do enlighten me as to the specific instance."

"Sex on the Beach. It's really good." He sucked hard on his straw for emphasis, and - did he leer at Draco?

"I believe it was my third recommendation, but I'm glad to see you've given up on the lager. Now kindly leave me to my nap."

"Aren't you going to burn up out here? You're so pale." His eyes raked down Draco's body, and he suddenly felt naked, swim trunks be damned.

"Is my entire vacation going to plagued with you, Potter?"

"Well, I'm here for two weeks, so maybe." He slurped down to the end of his drink, then shook it as if the leftover ice would somehow turn to alcohol again. "Damn. That was my third one. It's too hot out here to go thirsty." He leaned down to take Draco's water bottle, and downed about half of it messily. Drops of water rolled down his throat as he swallowed, and Draco had a sudden vision of lapping them up from salt-sweaty skin.

"I do hope you're going to replace that." Potter cast a wandless Aguamenti at the bottle, filling it up, and Draco felt his shorts grow tight.

Potter looked out over the bright blue ocean, allowing Draco a moment to discreetly adjust himself. "What is there to do here besides nap, swim and drink?"

"You could hike up the mountain," Draco said, gesturing behind them to the massive volcano that rose in the middle of the island. "Far away from me."

"That's not a bad idea. You, uh, wanna come?" Potter asked, running a hand through his hair, ruffled even more than usual in the ocean breeze.

"What part of 'far away from me' did you not understand?" Draco leaned back in his chair, replacing the eye mask, and waited for Potter's shadow to leave.

He had to have imagined the look of disappointment he'd caught on Potter's face.

***

After lunch, Draco retreated to his bungalow to snack on the fruit basket that room service had left and reapply his sun-blocking potion. To his dismay, he realized he had far less left than anticipated.

"Well, there's nothing for it," he complained to himself. "I'll have to pick more Helios weed."

In a stroke of luck, the plant he needed grew in tropical areas, but it occurred away from the beach. He'd have to take that hike after all. Maybe a long walk would do him some good. He needed to clear his mind of Potter. They'd managed to be somewhat cordial in training, but Draco's growing attraction to the speccy git made him uncomfortable. Potter's possible flirting aside, it could never happen, and Draco had to keep him at arms length, even if that meant going back to their old animosity. There was no way Potter was serious, and Draco didn't want to set himself up for heartbreak.

An hour into his trek, Draco was exhausted. Potion brewing wasn't a very strenuous career, and he was out of shape. Around a sharp turn, behind a palm, he caught sight of a small hut that must be a waystation for hikers, and decided to rest. But as he drew near, there was a rustling in the hut. There were no large animals on the island, so it had to be a person. He slowly crept to the single tiny window and peeked inside.

Potter. Of course.

He was sitting in the corner of the hut, looking cross. A glowing set of vines grew out from the wall, holding him by the wrists and ankles, and his wand lay out of reach. Draco couldn’t see anyone else inside, so he made his way to the door.

“Got yourself in a spot of trouble, eh Potter?” Draco pulled his wand out, and readied a Diffindo, but Potter put his hands up urgently.

“Stop! Trying to cut them just makes more grow out. It was just my wrists at first, now they’ve got my legs.” He stood, and Draco saw that the vines actually gave him about four feet of room to move. They met in the middle of the hut.

“How did this happen?”

Potter looked down sheepishly.

“I’m not really here on holiday. I’m supposed to be gathering intel on a group of Dark wizards who wanted to use the power of the island to increase their own. They aren’t considered much of a threat, so it’s sort of like a training exam. I guess I wasn’t sneaky enough, because they caught me.”

“And tied you up. Are they off doing Dark rituals, then?”

“Er. Well. They didn’t tie me up, as such. The vines came out on their own. Supposedly they catch ‘fitting sacrifices’ when the volcano is primed.”

“Primed, as in…?”

Potter finished his thought. “Yeah, they’re gonna throw me in at sundown. Originally they meant to draw just the power of the land, but tossing me in increases it tenfold. Their leader is one of those ‘tell all my evil plans since there’s no way you can stop me!’ types, so at least I know what’s up.”

“And what exactly were you planning on doing if I hadn’t come along?"

“Fight them wandlessly? Honestly, they just caught me unawares before. I think I can take them if they’re bottlenecked at the door.” He didn’t look very confident in his words, however.

Draco thought for a moment. “It doesn’t really make sense. If the volcano is primed for a ritual, wouldn’t they have a sacrifice already lined up, rather than waiting for you to stumble along?  Dark wizards are usually happy to throw their own lot over, if it comes down to it. One of them should be in these vines.”

Potter turned bright red. “I don’t think any of them would work.”

“Too evil?”

Potter mumbled something under his breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“Their leader may have said something about a virgin sacrifice,” he ground out.

Draco waited a beat, and then burst out laughing. “It’s not true!” Potter protested. “I’m not a virgin!”

“Then why did the vines catch you?” Draco said, wiping a tear of mirth away.

“I asked that! I guess the translation isn’t perfect. It just has to have… um… been a while.”

“I cannot believe the Saviour hasn’t been laid in so long that a volcano thinks he’s a virgin.”

“Shut up, Malfoy. It’s not for lack of trying.” He looked at Draco pointedly.

Draco chose to ignore it. He obviously wasn’t serious. “Well, let’s see about getting you out of here, then. Attacking the vines doesn’t work, you say? Maybe something more subtle.”

“I mean, I can think of one way, but it’s not an option.”

It took several moments for Draco to figure out what Potter was insinuating, and his hand flew to his mouth.

“You cannot be suggesting…”

“No!”

Draco pulled back, hurt that the thought of sex with him was that repellent. For once in his life, Potter seemed to notice unspoken cues, and reached out as far as the vine would let him. “It's not that I wouldn't want to. Merlin, you must have noticed me flirting.” Draco's mouth fell open. All this time, Potter had been coming on to him. “I just would never want you to feel like you had to. These aren't the circumstances I'd like to start something under.”

“Start something?” Draco said faintly.

Potter blushed. “I was waiting for training to be over before I asked you out for a drink.”

“You don't just want to shag me, then?” Draco asked curiously. He leaned in closer.

Potter must have sensed his interest. His eyes darkened,and he leaned closer as well. “Don't get me wrong, I want to wreck you, Malfoy,” he said in a low voice. “I just assumed it would happen after a nice dinner.”

All of his worrying had been for naught. Potter wasn’t just playfully throwing double entendres all this time - he wanted Draco. Wanted to take him out on a date, even.

Well, Draco wasn’t one to turn down a genuine opportunity.

He put on his best seductive smile and put his mouth to Potter’s ear. “We’ll have to do this backwards, then. When we get back to London, remember that I like Italian.”

He pulled back to catch Potter’s gaze, and smirked as soon as he saw realization dawn in them.

“Yeah? You wanna?”

“I was going to try to pull one of the cabana boys, but you’ll do.” Potter laughed and backed toward the wall, giving himself some slack in the vines. Draco followed eagerly, pressing Potter back until he was against the rough bamboo wall, and tangled his hands in the hair that had been tempting him all this time. He paused with their mouths only a breath away.

“What if they come back?”

“We’ve hours til sundown,” Harry whispered, his lips brushing Draco’s with every word. They wordlessly melted into a kiss that quickly became far more passionate.

Potter kissed hungrily, as brash as he did everything else in life. Draco felt as if he were being devoured, and his knees buckled as Potter pulled him down to the floor of the hut. Hands wrenched his shirt off, teeth grazed his nipples - it was almost too much, and Draco was a panting, writhing mess before long. He managed to reach up to tear Potter’s shirt open, unable to remove it completely due to the vines, before lifting his hips and allowing Potter to strip him of his trousers.

“No pants, Malfoy?”

“Too hot out,” Draco gasped. “Get the rest of your kit off, I want to see you.” Potter’s trousers presented the same problem as his shirt, so he simply opened his flies and pulled his cock out of his y-fronts. It was mouthwateringly hard, and Draco knew another day he’d take his sweet time sucking Potter off, but today was not that day.

Potter took hold of Draco's knees and spread them, admiration plain on his face. "You've got a gorgeous cock, Malfoy."

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.” Draco’s cock bobbed against his stomach, and Potter reached down to stroke it several times before leaning over. Draco thought he knew what was coming next. He was wrong.

Draco was unprepared for the sensation of Potter licking him all the way from his arsehole to his balls, and he let out an undignified squeal. Potter sucked one ball into his mouth, then the other, rolling them on his tongue. He backed off for a moment to whisper something Draco didn't hear, and then was back at it, slurping messily at the place right behind his sack. Suddenly a slick finger was stroking his entrance, and Draco understood that Potter must have wandlessly cast a lube spell. He gently petted the tightly furled hole before pressing one finger inside.

“I’m no virgin, Potter, give me two,” Draco demanded, trying to stay in control of himself a little longer. Potter hummed in agreement, unable to speak with his tongue working miracles between Draco's legs, and added a second finger. Draco groaned and started fucking himself back and forth on the slick digits impatiently. He wanted that cock.

Potter’s tongue snuck further down and he began licking around his own fingers, drawing noises out of Draco he had no idea he was capable of making. After only a few minutes, he was too close to coming than he wanted to be, and he raised a foot to push at Potter’s shoulder.

“That's enough, you arse-hungry bastard, fuck me.”

Potter fixed him with an intense stare, and rose to his knees, hooking Draco's legs over his shoulders. “Yeah, I'll fuck you, Malfoy. Fuck you like I've been dreaming about.”

Draco was so lost in the thought of Potter fantasizing about him that he missed a second lube spell being cast, but he didn't miss the feeling of a blunt cockhead pushing into him, slowly but firmly. He threw his head back, finally giving up any sense of control as Potter determinedly moved forward until he was completely buried in Draco.

“Fuck, Malfoy, I don't think I can hold back, been watching you prance around the beach in those little swim trunks for days.”

“If you dare hold back I'll throw you in the volcano myself.” The look they exchanged was vintage Potter vs Malfoy, full of challenge, but the kiss Potter laid on his lips was surprisingly delicate.

His next move was to pull nearly out of Draco and then slam all the way back in, so clearly the time for delicacy was over.

Draco dug his fingers into Potter’s back as he was fucked within an inch of his life. Potter seemed to have an unerring sense of where Draco's prostate was, and hit it on nearly every thrust, until Draco had dissolved into a keening, moaning mess. The little hut seemed to shake as Potter wrecked him , just as promised, sweat dripping from his chin to pool on Draco’s chest. It was sticky, and messy, and Draco loved every second of it. Too soon, he was close to coming, and he clenched around Potter’s cock.

That set Potter off, and he managed to beat Draco to orgasm, crying out above him and tensing up as he flooded Draco’s arse with come. The vines fell limply against them, and he reached down for Draco’s cock. It only took four pulls before Draco came between them. Potter fell against him in a heap of sweat and come. Eventually he rolled to the side.

“Next time we should cast a Cooling charm first,” Draco said, wrinkling his nose at the humid, musky air in the hut. Potter laughed breathlessly.

“I guess we can take our time in the future without a volcano looming over us.”  He sat up suddenly. “Fuck, I have to go after them.”

“Alone?”

“No, I can call for backup. This was never meant to be a confrontation. I probably failed the test, but whatever.”

“Do you need help?” Draco offered, hoping Potter would say no. He wasn’t much use in a wands out battle.

“Nah. Nothing’s going on until sundown. There’s two senior Aurors down at the resort. I’m nearly positive they suggested this as a training exam so they could be lazy on the beach. I’ll send a Patronus.” He turned a questioning look on Draco. “Why were you out here, anyways?”

“Gathering ingredients for my sun-blocking potion. I suppose I’ll have to make do with whatever the resort has, and stay out of the sun for long periods.”

“You could just go out at night,” Potter grinned. “Meet me at the bar at nine?”

“As long as you don’t order something tacky, like Sex on the Beach,” Draco replied with a grin of his own.

“Mmm,” Potter nuzzled into Draco's neck, giving him a long lingering kiss there before standing up to fasten his trousers. “I think that’s for later.”

As Draco pulled his own clothes on and turned to Apparate, he was already trying to remember sand-repelling spells for his skin.

Sex on the beach, indeed.

***

[taiblogcomics]

The Prodigal Son Returns

Hey there, inner city life. Well, it's time to do more reviews.We're almost done with Suicide Squad forever. We won't actually finish it by this year, alas, but we will by the midpoint of January. And that's something to look forward to~

Here's a shiny cover:

Hey, remember a couple months ago when Red Hood had that metallic cover and it was actually pretty cool? Yeah, this one is nothing like that. I mean, all the gold parts are metallic and such, but it doesn't look cool. Instead of a striking action shot that looks cool in monochrome, it's just a boring group shot of the characters rendered in a weirdly realistic style. Why gold? Why these four characters? Only one of the characters on this cover is even in the issue. We may never know. Buy it because it's shiny!

Last issue doesn't matter. It was good, but it concluded in Aquaman. And since nobody, let alone me, reads Aquaman, we'll never know how it finished. Never! Instead, we're going to Australia! Seems there's a villain called the Bunyip terrorising the stereotypical American tourists, and they've requested the help of Captain Boomerang for this mission. Because they're idiots, apparently. No, we deserve to be punished with a whole issue focusing on Boomerang, because the comic was merciful enough to spare us him from the Atlantis storyline. And this isn't the worst of it. No, the real reason they want Boomerang is because he used to be a member of the Australian Secret Service. I would argue that he still is an ASS, but semantics~

So we open our comic with all this info, and then the first we see of Boomerang is him in his cell, wearing a white tuxedo (and that blue toque he always has) and nursing a nosebleed he doesn't explain. Amanda Waller is as incredulous as the reader over this revelation. Waller reluctantly releases Boomerang into the care of his old mate Mel, who has brought a can of Fosters with him to celebrate. The can of lager, however, is actually a holographic communication device, which relays them information on the Bunyip in beer-yellow holograms. Because of course. Like how James Bond uses a series of tea-themed gadgets, am I right?

Aboard their supersonic jet (which Boomerang laments is not shaped like a kangaroo), Mel gives Boomerang a case of, what else, boomerangs. At which Boomerang gets very upset, because he's more than just boomerangs, you know. It's true, he's also a coward! Boomerang now launches into his backstory to explain why he's the way he is. Because, despite his name, he's not a boomerang: he doesn't come back. Just like his father, sob sob. Anyways. just because he quit being a secret agent doesn't mean he's not good at being a villain, and he brings up the secret villain internet that comes up a few times in DC Comics. This pinpoints the Bunyip to a hotel in Tasmania. That was pretty conflict-free, so the rest of the issue's sure to go pear-shaped, eh~?

Captain Boomerang parachutes down from the plane and misses his drop point, landing in the ocean and ruining his tuxedo. He immediately beings loudly askind the nearby beach-goers about the Bunyip, at which point a pretty dark-skinned woman named Para Dice (no, seriously) tells him to shut up. At which point he notices a big banner that reads "The Bunyip Welcomes Arms Dealers of the World". Yes, it's a big Arms Deal Con, the attendees of which want to pick up some heavy ordinance and turn Australia back into a nation of only criminals. Captain Boomerang tells him this is pretty culturally insensitive, and I tell the comic this is pretty annoying.

A fight scene ensues, and somehow Boomerang is a better fighter on this one page than the entire rest of his appearances in the series. Para does her part as well, and it turns out she's also Secret Service like him, in deep cover. At this point, the cover is more or less broken, so she just leads him to the penthouse where the Bunyip is staying. When they get there, though, they don't find the Bunyip. They just find a kangaroo sitting in his chair, a bomb rigged to its chest. Boomerang shows his true colours--yellow--and jumps out of the building, catching hold of the jet again and leaving Para Dice behind to blow up. A real class-act, that Boomerang.

Next on our sightseeing tour, Boomerang's dropped off on the Sydney Harbour Bridge to meet with the Bunyip. This is because the Bunyip is now threatening to nuke the country if the legal deed to the country isn't handed over to him. Mel says he has no choice in this. Boomerang approaches the figure on the bridge, only to find out it's a robot with a TV head. The TV screen tells him to look up, and he does just in time to see the jet with Mel on it explode. Boomerang's pissed now, because unlike Para Dice, he was actually friends with Mel. The TV robot then shows him where to go next: the crummy little Outback town he was born in.

So here's where it gets really stupid.

Boomerang returns to his hometown, and finds Para Dice there. At first he's excited to see that she survived, but then realises she only did because she's working for the Bunyip. The Bunyip comes out of the shadows, and he's not a mythological creature at all. He's just a skinny ginger dude. He introduces himself as Owen Mercer, Boomerang's son. They introduced Owen Mercer during Identity Crisis back in the pre-New 52 days, but this is the first use of the character in the Earth-Prime universe. That version of Owen Mercer was actually interesting, at least for a while. Here's what they do with this new version.

See, there are no nukes, because of course there aren't. That was just a story to get both the arms dealers and the Secret Service interested. See, he was born some twenty-odd years ago, and he was a brilliant, precocious child. So when his mom eventually confesses that his father was probably a drunken fling with Digger Harkness, he becomes enraged. How could he, a genius smart enough to trick and organise the world's arms dealers, be related to an idiot like Captain Boomerang? Boomerang tells him this is bollocks. He's just mad he grew up without a father, just the same way Boomerang himself did.

Now, there may not be nukes, but there are bombs planted in the town. Owen sets them off, activating a forcefield bubble around himself and Para, flying away. But Boomerang follows. See, those special boomerangs Mel gave him came in handy, and he's following with a flying boomerang. He activates the bunker-buster boomerang he just threw at them, shattering their forcefield and knocking them to the ground. He's about to fly away himself, when he suddenly changes his mind. He's content with letting his town explode off the face of the earth, but he saves Owen and Para's life. It seems sometimes boomerangs do come back~

Wow. Well, that was a bust of an issue, if you ask me. Look, Identity Crisis may have problems, but the parts with Digger and Owen were among the good parts. Give them a look if you’re interested. Owen actually grew into an interesting anti-hero sort of character (at least until his character nadir in Blackest Night) in the pre-New 52 comics. This is a really dumb way to reinterpret the character. And with only three issues left, I can’t imagine they’re going to do much with this plot point~

[nwbeerguide]

No. 7 in their Single Hop Lager Series, Chuckanut Brewery releases a single hop Lager made with Sultana hops.

image courtesy Chuckanut Brewery & Kitchen

Press Release

Chuckanut Brewery is constantly trying to learn more about the ingredients used in the beers brewed. Single Hop Lager has been an opportunity for award winning Chuckanut to master their knowledge about Noble hop varietals. By experimenting with U.S. and other new world hops from around the world Chuckanut gains the nuances of each varietal. Chuckanut’s brewers are excited to get to know these hops better and for Chuckanut drinkers to learn more also!

This 7th rendition in the Single Hop Lager Series uses the NW developed Sultana, originally experimental hop #06277 previously named Denali. Grab your beach chair and SPF 40 because this Single Hop Lager Sultana is bursting with tropical flavors of pineapple, citrus & pine! Great with spicy foods from southern climates this Single Hop beer will cool and compliment any spicy hot foods! Single Hop Lager Sultana is available in kegs, growler fills and half liter bottles at limited shops and restaurants around the NW and Oregon!

Chuckanut Brewery & Kitchen, located at 601 West Holly St, Bellingham, was awarded the National Small Brewpub/Brewer of the Year 2009 and National Small Brewery/Brewer of the Year 2011 at the Great American Beer Festival. Currently both locations offer outdoor seating (covered and waterside) as well as to-go pick-up & delivery for kegs, growlers, bottles of Chuckanut beer, food and merchandise. A full food menu is available at North Nut where delivery for food, beer and merchandise is offered. The South Nut Tap Room at 11937 Higgins Airport Way, Burlington is located at the Port of Skagit for beer garden enjoyment and curbside pick up. Now both locations are open Wednesday-Sunday and beer by appointment on Monday & Tuesday: North Nut (Wednesday-Sunday 1-7 pm) and South Nut (Wednesday-Thursday 3-6 pm and Friday-Sunday 1-6 pm) during Covid. Check additional information about Chuckanut at www.chuckanutbrewery.com.

from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/33GY5rZ

[anoninaiz]

The sea monster

<From a recently concluded dream>

We were in the early ages of civilization; I, an onlooker from another dimension and they- mostly human, part fish - living by the sea; dependent on the water for food and only just beginning to understand the concept of society. They all seemed hairy, happy and one with the water, spending more than half the day at sea - kids frolicking, bare chested fishermen plunging to grab fish by their hands and the women cooking meat, churning the alcohol inside their huts by the beach- the kind of time travelling episode of Baywatch I'd sincerely watch.

Their civilization was booming but danger loomed ahead. Every once in a while they would wake up to pirates late in the night, huge ships plundering their ration, killing everyone in their way. The elders of the community decided it was time to have a plan in place everytime the pirates attacked. The best swimmers were trained to fight back, guards would line the shore and signal a loud ringing. The women and kids would be evacuated first and find their ways to their hiding spots/ underground camps until the battle lasted.

Until one day - something strange happened. The pirates made their way to the shore, throwing out burning daggers and firing canons. Just as the alarms rang and the best swimmers made their way into the water, a large creature erupted out of nowhere, capsizing the ship; it's tentacles whipping the pirates into chaos.

The army quickly ran to the shore themselves out of fear. They were prepared to fight unjust men but a huge 🐙 in the same water as their's? A sudden flash of territorial thought flooded them. And although the creature had just attacked their biggest nemesis, they didn't trust the massive octopus.

Over the next few months, the barbarian pirates attacked the sea people twice, only to face the giant octopus's wrath - it seemed to get angrier every single time, gaining the trust of those who lived by the sea. They'd found a friend, the single octupus army - an incarnation of the water god themselves.

The third time the pirate ship was capsized by the creature, the people rejoiced and took to the sea to pay their dues to their hero. The women danced all night and the octopus was brought to land, enshrined in jewellery, given buckets of lager to drink. The happy people rubbed their big slimy belly.

--

<The sea people can't hear the thoughts of the octopus but I can>

The Octopus makes no sound. The celebrations hold no meaning to them. They glide on the chair they place them on, buckets of water and lager poured on them every minute. Small kids slide from their tentacles, screaming with joy. They think to themselves - let them be fooled into thinking I am their's. I will groom them for years; let them thrive as a community till they burst at the seams with fish. I'll feed them for years. And then, I will eat them. One fine day.

The end.

[guapo-t-w]

Local Tidewater VA Beer Festivals

UPCOMING BEER FESTS AND FESTIVAL FORECAST: Sat, Aug 17 - Tap! Tap! Beer Festival 2019, 5 - 9:00 pm, Greenbrier Farms, 225 Sign Pine Rd., Chesapeake. Chesapeake Virginia’s First Beer Festival, Tap! Tap! Craft Beer Festival celebrates it's 5th year on August 17th, 2019, located at Historic Greenbrier Farms. Sample over 50 beers while listening to the sounds of BJ Griffin & Galaxy Groove with Budda Council ! Buy our signature growler or bring your own to purchase a fill-up with your favorite beer. Tap! Tap! has a great variety on TAP for you to sample and then purchase to enjoy at the event. Of course, all the samples are free, until last call at 8:30 pm! You can bring your own lawn chairs, snacks, sodas and water to Tap! Tap! All coolers and large bags will be subject to inspection. Designated Driver Tickets are $15 and available at the gate the day of the event. As a thank you, All Designated Drivers will receive coupons for free water. Brought to you by Boys and Girls Club of Southeast Virginia and Kwasans Foundation.  https://www.eventbrite.com/e/tap-tap-craft-beer-festival-2019-tickets-62394713267? Sat, Aug 24 - 5th Annual Neptune's Coastal Craft Beer Festival, 1 - 6:00 pm, Hosted by the Neptune Festival, Neptune's Park, 31st Street and Atlantic Avenue, Virginia Beach Oceanfront. Neptune’s Park will be transformed into a craft beer lover’s haven on Saturday, August 24th, featuring local Virginia beers and cask ales, as well national and regional craft beers. Enjoy over 65 beers from 30 breweries, live music, food trucks, and more! Tickets will go on sale May 1, 2019. Each ticket includes a commemorative beer-tasting glass and tastings throughout the day. Early Bird Tickets: $30 Until July 1 or until allotment has been reached; Advance Tickets: $35 Through August 18; Week of Event Tickets: $40. https://www.neptunefestival.com/events/neptunes-coastal-craft-beer-festival Sat, Sep 7 - 4th Annual VA Cork & Craft Festival, 12 - 5:00 pm, Chincoteague Island KOA, 6742 Maddox Blvd., Chincoteague Island. Join us and the Special Olympics of Virginia for the 4th Annual Cork & Craft beer and wine festival. Sip on a variety of beer & wine while listening to the Island Boy Band and enjoying the breathtaking views of Chincoteague Bay and the lighthouse on Assateague Island. Shop for local artisan wares & crafts and indulge in great food provided by local food trucks. Buy your tickets online now for $30 (includes unlimited tastings and a commemorative tasting glass). Price goes up to $40 at the gate the day of the event. Designated Driver option available beginning January 2019 for $10, which includes soda/water. Children 15 years old or younger enter free. Need a place to stay? Check out our recommended accommodations and special packages available at Chincoteague Island KOA and Fairfield Inn & Suites. For all the details, visit www.VACorkCraft.com Sun, Sep 8 - Barks & Brews 2019, 12 – 6:00 pm, sponsored by O’Connor’s Brewery, Norfolk Botanical Garden, 6700 Azalea Garden Road, Norfolk. Bring your dog to the Garden and have a beer for a fun day with live music! Guests are welcome to explore the Garden with their furry canine companion. Explore 175 spectacular acres with your dog and enjoy a cold beer with food and music. Regular garden admission applies. Not-Yet-Members: Dogs: $5 (human admission applies) – become a member today and save! Your dog must remain on a leash at all times. Stop by our Visitor Center for extra doggie waste bags. Other Barks & Brew dates: Sundays – Sep 8, Oct 13.  https://norfolkbotanicalgarden.org/events/barks-and-brews-2019-1/ Fri, Sep 13 - Barrels, Brew & BBQ, 6 - 10:00 pm, Hunt Club Farm, 2388 London Bridge Rd., Virginia Beach. Come out on September 13th and help support Ronald McDonald House Charities of Norfolk!  All you can eat BBQ, drink Craft Beer, Wine and Champagne. Silent Auction, Raffles, Games, Music and much more!  https://barrelsbrewbbqfest18.thundertix.com/ Sat, Sep 14 - Growl Fest 2019, 6 – 9:00 pm, The Virginia Zoo, 3500 Granby St., Norfolk. Come get your growl on at the Virginia Zoo! Join us for a fun-filled evening of beer, food trucks, a DJ and games at Growl Fest to benefit the Sunrise and Downtown Rotary Clubs of Norfolk and the Virginia Zoo. Growl Fest includes exclusive after-hours access to the Zoo, with select animals on exhibit late. This is fun for the whole family or a group of your wildest friends. 11 Virginia breweries will each be serving a variety of brews, attendees can feast from the area’s best food trucks, and there will be a Children’s Play Area. Train rides, $2. Location: Event Pavilion and Field. Prices: $25: Adult Drinking ticket (includes growler, 2 beers OR 6 tasting tickets); $10: Adult Non-Drinking ticket (does not include growlers or beer tickets); $10: Youth ticket (2-20) // Free: Under 2 Ticket cost will increase by $10 the day of the event. Additional drink tickets are $2 per ticket. [1 ticket = 4 oz tasting, 3 tickets =12 oz beer pour] Please note: The Adult Beer ticket must be purchased for anyone wanting to drink beer or wine at the event. Sat, Sep 21 - MacArthur Center Beer, Cider & Wine Festival, 11:00 am - 5:00 pm, Hosted by River City Festivals, 300 Monticello Ave., Norfolk. Join us for an amazing day of CRAFT BEER, Music, Games, Food and Fun. The gates open at 11 am so come early and stay late to enjoy all the day has to offer! Last call is 4:30 pm and taps will close at 5 pm. Tickets for UNLIMITED sampling are only $25 in advance, or $35 at the door! We will have craft brewers from all over the region sampling some of their award winning beers. They will be pouring some of your favorites as well as a sneak peek in to what will be on tap for 2020. Live Music performances. Please remember to drink responsibly…and plan ahead if you need a place to stay or a ride home for the evening. Sat, Sep 21 - Virginia Beach Oktoberfest 2019, 12 - 6:00 pm, Hunt Club Farm, Virginia Beach. Wasserhund Brewery and the Nobleman are presenting the Annual Oktoberfest Event for all of Coastal Virginia and beyond on September 21st from noon till 6 pm at Hunt Club Farm in Virginia Beach. This event will serve as the quintessential Oktoberfest for our area featuring over 30 breweries, traditional German food and fair, festival atmosphere, and so much more: The opportunity to enjoy multiple styles of beers including, of course, a wide variety of German beers; live music; petting zoo and bounce houses for family friendly kid fun. Portion of proceeds will be donated to The Noblemen to support local charities. Sun, Sep 22 - Yorktoberfest 2019, 12 - 5:00 pm, Hosted by York County Chamber of Commerce, Riverwalk Landing, 425 Water St., Yorktown. York County Chamber of Commerce annual event has moved to the Yorktown Waterfront at Riverwalk Landing. Offering more at this Family-Friendly Local Craft Beer Festival. Get ready to have fun rain or shine as this event will be covered and tented! Early Bird Price ENDS September 1st! Tickets on Sale Now! Volunteer Opportunities! Coastal & Virginia Beers | Beer Classes | Band | Games | Food Vendors | Crafts | Raffle. https://yorkcountychamberva.org/product/yorktoberfest-2019/ Sat, Sep 28 - Craft Beer Festival, 12 - 5:00 pm, Hosted by Cape Charles / Chesapeake Bay KOA, 32246 Lankford Highway, Cape Charles. Calling all Craft Beer Lovers! We have more than 30 brews just waiting for you to sample. Once you've quenched your thirst check out the live entertainment or do some shopping with the vendors onsite. *This is a ticketed event  https://koa.com/campgrounds/chesapeake-bay/ Sat, Oct 5 - Oktoberfest 2019, 12 - 9:00 pm, Hosted by The Bier Garden, The Ambassador Club of Portsmouth, 364 Peninsula Ave., Portsmouth. The Ambassador Club in Portsmouth and The Bier Garden are teaming up to co-sponsor Oktoberfest again this year! Look forward to authentic German beer, food and activities. Strongman competition,  corn hole, raffles, bounce houses and more. Can't wait to see you there! For more information please email me at manager@biergarden.biz Sat, Oct 5 - Oktoberfest at Billsburg Brewery, 12 - 4:00 pm, 2054 Jamestown Rd., Williamsburg. Celebrate Oktoberfest with all your friends at Billsburg Brewery. Get your tickets now as we celebrate 2019 Oktoberfest on Saturday, October 5, 12:00pm - 4:00pm with all of our friends from local breweries in the 757. Every brewery will be pouring their own fest bier or German style lager here in the parking lot of Billsburg Brewery. Your $25 ticket includes a commemorative beer stein and samples from every fest beer being poured!  RAIN OR SHINE. We will also have live entertainment and special Bavarian menus from local food trucks will be available for purchase including FoodaTude..Food with Attitude and The Hungry Pug Food Truck.  https://billsburg.com/product/oktoberfest-bier-fest-ticket/ Sat-Sun, Oct 5-6 - Biplanes & Brews 2019, Military Aviation Museum, 1341 Princess Anne Road, Virginia Beach. Experience this unique WWI air show spectacle showcasing the Military Aviation Museum’s expansive WWI aircraft collection. Watch the skies with your family as historic biplanes and triplanes soar overhead with live vintage musical performances filling the air. For adults, sample the many craft beers from across the state and region from some of Virginia’s finest local breweries. You can even experience the thrill of flight yourself, with riders offered on the museum’s two open cockpit biplanes. Vintage WWI air show, live music and entertainment, free on-site parking, food trucks, re-enactors and more await you. Tickets: Save up to 25% when you buy your tickets in advance! $5 additional fee for all ticket types at the door. Adults: $25 One Day/$45 Weekend, Youth (6-17): $12 One Day/$20 Weekend, Child: Free. Beer Add-on (includes twelve 4 oz. tastings and commemorative glass): $20. Buy your tickets online, at the museum or by calling 757-721-7767 Sat, Oct 12 - 7th Annual 757 Battle of the Beers 2019, Hosted by Beach Ambassadors, 1 = 6:30 pm, Camp Pendleton, Birdneck Road, Virginia Beach. This is the only festival in Hampton Roads that exclusively features local 757 Craft Breweries as they battle it out to win in different beer categories – with 100% of the proceeds go to local Hampton Roads charities including St. Mary's Home and Hope House Foundation! This award-winning and unique event pits Hampton Roads-based breweries against each other to determine who has the best beer in Hampton Roads. Each year, local breweries put their best brews on tap and are rated by an official brewer tasting panel and by attendees of the event to see which beer is the best in the 7-5-7. Sat, Oct 12 - Barktoberfest: Dog Walk & Festival, 12 - 6:00 pm, Mill Point Park, 100 Eaton St., Hampton. Barktoberfest (formerly Paws for a Cause) is the Peninsula SPCA’s annual fundraiser to benefit homeless animals! Bring your pup, family & friends for: Live Music – Beer Tasting – Dog Walk through beautiful Downtown Hampton – Fantastic Vendors – Rescues – Bobbing for Tennis Balls – Dog Cake Walk - Peanut Butter Eating Contest – Reverse Limbo Contest - and our amazing Costume Contest for People and Pets with Awesome Prizes! Hosted by animal loving ladies Z104's Morning Zoo - Ashley & 94.9 The Point's Devin! Live Music by: Lost Soul Society, Splintercat, Lively Hoodz, Shotdroppa, David Cuffee, Nic Robertson, Anna Lisa Sanderson. Tickets include: Exclusive Barktoberfest T-shirt, event admission, costume contest, dog walk & activities, goody bag with cool stuff. Now through Sept. 30  Adults: $15, Child (Ages 5 to 12): $10  http://www.peninsulaspca.org/barktoberfest Sun, Oct 13 - The Mariners’ ARRRtober Festival, 1 - 5:00 pm, Hosted by The Mariners' Museum and Park, 100 Museum Dr., Newport News. The Mariners’ ARRRtober Festival is a family-friendly event, featuring pirate-themed activities all day long! The event will begin with the Noland Trail Marathon & Relay in the morning. The Festival portion will begin at 1:00 PM, and will feature food trucks, live music, craft beer, cider and wine tastings, and lots of family-friendly games and activities. Entrance to the Festival is $2 per person. Children 3 and under are free. Festival admission and drink tickets will be cash only. There will be an ATM on-site. Activities are included with Festival admission. Craft Beer tasting tickets are sold separately. Sat/Sun, Oct 19/20 - Virginia Beach Craft Beer Festival, 1 - 6:00 pm, 30th St., Oceanfront, Virginia Beach. Over 50 craft beers from over 25 breweries will be available for sampling at the Virginia Beach Craft Beer Festival.  Tickets include unlimited sampling, a commemorative cup, and live entertainment. In a huge tent on the beach at 30th Street, our location is conveniently near parking at the municipal garage across the street. A limited number of tickets will be available each day. Chairs and pets are not allowed into the gated venue. This is a rain or shine event; refunds not available. Drink Happy - Be Safe Follow the blogs at: www.brew-n-rock-tidewater.blogspot.com or www.guapo-t-w.tumblr.com and follow the latest listings of local brew events on Facebook: www.facebook.com/groups/hamptonroadsbeerforum/

[plxyboi-blog]

July 2-15 Calendar of Events

New Post has been published on https://healthy4lives.com/july-2-15-calendar-of-events/

July 2-15 Calendar of Events

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Dino Days: Herbivores, with Paleobiologist Grayson Kent

To submit an event for publication, email the information and facts to news@santaynezalleystar.com. To see much more information and facts on the net, go to www.santaynezvalleystar.com.

  3

TED and Conversation – ten:thirty a.m. at Solvang Library, 1745 Mission Generate – Watch 1 or two quick talks from the well-known TED Talks sequence with each other, and focus on afterward. Participants pick out the subject matter. Bring a friend.

Solvang Audio in the Park – 5 – 8 p.m. Arrive listen to Rock Cats Rock at Solvang Park. Live performance is cost-free convey a blanket or chair.

  four

Independence Day 

  5

Movies in Solvang Park – 7:thirty – nine:thirty p.m. – Totally free family amusement and motion picture begins when it is darkish ample. Popcorn and warm chocolate for sale. Films are rated G – PG13.

Midtown Adult men – 8 p.m. at the Chumash On line casino – Stars from the authentic Broadway solid of Jersey Boys reunite for the show’s 10th anniversary tour. Pay a visit to www.chumashcasino.com for tickets.

PCPA – Million Greenback Quartet opening 8 p.m. – Get pleasure from a entertaining-stuffed summertime of musicals and comedies beneath the stars in the Solvang Competition Theater, 420 Next Avenue, Solvang. This show runs from July 5 – 28. Pay a visit to www.pcpa.org for tickets and much more info.

“Roman Holiday” Screening – 8:thirty p.m. at SB County Courthouse – UCSB Arts and Lectures’ Summer season Collection returns to the Santa Barbara County Courthouse Sunken Gardens. Every single Friday, convey your friends and family to set up a blanket to observe a motion picture beneath the stars. Pay a visit to www.artsandlectures.ucsb.edu for much more info.

  6

Dino Days: Herbivores, with Paleobiologist Grayson Kent – 11 a.m. – 2 p.m. at SB Museum of Natural Heritage – Again by well-known demand, paleobiologist Grayson Kent returns to Dino Days for a 2nd round of paleontological entertaining. This time we’ll check out the diversifications of herbivorous dinosaurs. Look at horns, armor, and even some dino dung! Contact Community Education Manager Stefanie Coleman at 805-682-4711 ext. a hundred and seventy or scoleman@sbnature2.org.

Kardboard Kayak Race – midday – 3 p.m. at West Beach front – The SB Maritime Museum’s Kardboard Kayak Races obstacle family members and teams to take part in a battle of wits, creativeness, style and design, and courage! Teams of up to four men and women just about every receive two sheets of cardboard, 1 roll of duct tape, a long-lasting marker, a utility knife, a yardstick, and just 1 hour to construct a working kayak out of ONLY people elements. To sign up log on to www.sbmm.org or connect with 805-456-8747.

  nine

Women’s Leadership Collection – 5:15 – 7 p.m. at The Landsby in Solvang. This meeting is precise to management. Totally free for valley chamber members and $15 for non-members. Log on to www.solvangcc.com for much more info.

  ten

Coffee with a Cop – 8:thirty a.m. -Corner Dwelling Coffee in Los Olivos – The Sheriff’s Community Source Deputies for the Chumash Reservation and the City of Solvang have joined forces to keep a sequence of Coffee with a Cop gatherings in the Santa Ynez Valley. These gatherings present the neighborhood an chance to satisfy the deputies and communicate about concerns that affect them individually or the Valley as a complete, around a cup of coffee.

  Solvang Audio in the Park – 5 – 8 p.m. Arrive listen to dwell songs at Solvang Park. Live performance is cost-free to the community, convey a blanket or chair and get pleasure from!

  12

Summer season Live performance Collection at Firestone Vineyard – 6 – nine p.m. – Grab your blanket and picnic basket – it is time for the Summer season Live performance Collection! Join us for wine, sunshine, and songs in the course of the summertime. Admission is cost-free and no RSVP expected.

Trace Adkins “Don’t Stop” Tour – 8 p.m. at the Chumash On line casino – Don’t miss out on your beloved songs dwell, these as “You’re Gonna Overlook This,” “Every Gentle in the House” and “(This Ain’t) No Pondering Issue.” Tickets accessible at www.chumashcasino.com.

“North By Northwest” screening – 8:thirty p.m. at SB County Courthouse – UCSB Arts and Lectures’ Summer season Collection returns to the Santa Barbara County Courthouse Sunken Gardens. Every single Friday, convey your friends and family to set up a blanket to observe a motion picture beneath the stars. Pay a visit to www.artsandlectures.ucsb.edu for much more info.

  thirteen

Lagerville – 11 a.m. – four p.m. at Figueroa Mountain Brew in Buellton – An invitational beer competition bringing with each other craft beer brewers and enthusiasts in an personal location in Buellton to rejoice historic and approachable lagers. Pay a visit to www.figmtnbrew.com for much more.

Yearly Veterans Appreciation BBQ – 5 – 8:30p.m. – Totally free Tri-Tip barbecue for SYV Veterans hosted by Solvang VFW and American Legion Posts. All veterans and their spouses or significant other individuals are invited. VIP Guests from VAFB will attend and Boy Scouts will accomplish American Flag retirements. County and National VA reps will solution inquiries on added benefits and treatment. For additional information and facts, invitation RSVP and site, make contact with Alvin Salge, VFW Write-up 7139 Commander at 805-245-1763 or alvinsalge@ymail.com.

  thirteen & 14

French Competition – 11 a.m. – 7 p.m. at Oak Park, West Alamar Avenue – Rejoice Bastille Day at the 31st yearly French Competition. Just one of Santa Barbara’s favorites, celebrating the resilient, rich and entertaining French lifestyle. Admission is cost-free. Pay a visit to www.frenchfestival.com for much more info.

  Continuing Situations

  Mondays

  Yoga, nine a.m. Arthritis Training Class, ten:15 a.m. Arts and Crafts every single third Monday Solvang Senior Middle, 1745 Mission Generate 805-688-3793.

Preschool Storytime – 11 a.m. – Buellton Library – Bring your preschooler to story time to assist get them completely ready to examine!

Divorce Care Restoration Seminar and Guidance Team – 6:thirty-8:thirty p.m. Santa Ynez Valley Christian Academy Library, 891 N. Refugio Street, Santa Ynez Louise Kolbert at 805-688-5171.

  Tuesdays

  Laptop or computer course, nine a.m., Knitting, nine:thirty a.m. Tai Chi, 11 a.m. bridge and poker, 12:forty five p.m. Mah Jongg one p.m., Solvang Senior Middle, 1745 Mission Generate 805-688-3793.

Preschool Story Time – ten:thirty a.m. at Solvang Library. Bring your preschooler to story time to assist get them completely ready to examine!

Two-Action Dance Lessons – 6:thirty p.m. 8 p.m. – Marketplace Night and Karaoke Celebration. Maverick Saloon, 3687 Sagunto St., Santa Ynez. Pay a visit to www.themavsaloon.com.

  Wednesdays

  SYV We Guidance the Troops – nine a.m.-midday. Volunteers pack treatment offers on the fourth Wednesday of just about every thirty day period. Bethania Lutheran Church, 603 Atterdag Street, Solvang. 805-245-4951.

Artwork Class, nine a.m. Book Club, ten a.m. (connect with first) Bingo, one p.m.: Solvang Senior Middle, 1745 Mission Generate 805-688-3793.

Wiggly Storytime – ten:thirty a.m. – Solvang Library – Quick tales, songs, rhymes and actions for toddlers, toddlers and preschoolers.

Knit and Crochet – one p.m., Buellton Senior Middle, West Highway 246, Buellton 805-688-4571.

Healing Hearts Guidance Team – 2-four p.m. Santa Ynez Valley Presbyterian Church, 1825 Alamo Pintado Street. Totally free. To R.S.V.P. connect with 805-693-0244.

Solvang Farmers Current market – 2:thirty-6:thirty p.m., 1st Avenue between Mission Generate and Copenhagen Generate, Solvang.

Crafternoons – 3:forty five-5:forty five p.m. Arts Outreach, 2948 Nojoqui Ave. Suite nine, Los Olivos. $ten/child 805-688-9533.

  Thursdays

  Sideways Inn Local’s Night Specials – 5 p.m.- 8 p.m., 114 East Highway 246, Buellton 805-691-8088.

Chair Exercise routines – ten a.m., Buellton Senior Middle, West Highway 246, Buellton 805-688-4571.

Arthritis Training Class, ten:15 a.m. Mah Jongg, Noon Basic Cartooning, one p.m., Solvang Senior Middle, 1745 Mission Generate 805-688-3793.

Looking through with Canine – 3:thirty – four:thirty p.m. at Solvang Library – Tail Waggin Tutors assist younger audience exercise reading through expertise.

Mind Injuries Survivors of Santa Ynez Valley – Noon-2 p.m., Bethania Lutheran Church, 603 Atterdag Street, Solvang. Jodi Dwelling Mind Injuries Guidance Middle delivers a support team for brain injury survivors and caregivers www.jodihouse.org.

  Fridays

  Diet Classes – 11 a.m. – SYV Cottage Healthcare facility Conference Room – Instruction Stacey Bailey is a dietician and delivers weekly courses in numerous subject areas. For much more information and facts connect with 805-694-2351. Bring your lunch and communicate diet.

Tai Chi, nine:15 a.m. Mah Jongg, ten a.m. Pilates – ten:15 a.m. Ukulele 11:15 a.m., Solvang Senior Middle, 1745 Mission Generate 805-688-3793.

Bingo – one p.m., Buellton Senior Middle, West Highway 246, Buellton 805-688-4571.

  Saturdays

  Cachuma Lake Nature Wander – ten-11:thirty a.m. 805-688-4515 or www.sbparks.org.

Junior Rangers Method – 12:thirty-one:thirty p.m. Neal Taylor Nature Middle, 2265 Highway 154. Little ones 3 and up beneath ten many years should be accompanied by an adult. $3/person. Nature Middle admission is cost-free. Pay a visit to www.clnaturecenter.org.

  Coming Up

Log on to www.cityofsolvang.com, www.buelltonrec.com or www.visitsyv.com to see a full program of plans and gatherings that range from adult and youth sporting activities to teenager dances, field visits, excursions and much more.

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[travelonlinetips-blog]

New Post has been published on https://travelonlinetips.com/the-ultimate-gold-coast-craft-beer-brewery-crawl-2/

The Ultimate Gold Coast Craft Beer Brewery Crawl

Forget settling in for a surf club session with an icy cold XXXX in hand; the craft beer revolution has hit the Gold Coast hard. Hop-loaded and brimming with flavour, there’s liquid gold to be found at the end of every Rainbow (Bay) in this glittering seaside city.

From south to north, here’s how to hop on the ultimate Gold Coast craft beer crawl for a frothing good time.

Fortitude Brewing Co., Mount Tamborine

Head for the hills of the Gold Coast Hinterland to the flavour masters at Fortitude Brewing Co. and grab a pint from either of their two brewed-onsite product lines: Fortitude or Noisy Minor Co. If laidback ale sessions are your thing try the former, or take-no-prisoners types can sip their way through the latter. Can’t decide? Make it a paddle.

Pair a paddle (or two) with a delicious wood-fired pizza and soak up the crisp air that surrounds.

Where: 165 Long Road, Mount Tamborine. When: Monday to Thursday 11am-4pm, Friday 11am-6pm, Saturday 10am-6pm, Sunday 10am-5pm.

Bearded Dragon Hotel, Mount Tamborine

Make your way down the mountain and hit up the Bearded Dragon Hotel to sample their decent selection of boutique craft beers, local and imported bottles and brews from their Mt Tamborine brewery.

Get amongst Queensland nature in their beer garden boasting mountain views and a couple of alpacas. Don’t forget to order some pub fare – they serve everything from beef and Guinness pie to bangers and mash – to help you soak it all up.

Where: LOT 2 Tamborine Mountain Rd, Tamborine. When: 7 days 10am-late.

Lester & Earl, Palm Beach

At Palm Beach’s Lester & Earl the taps are always ice cold and fully loaded. Grab a stool at the bar, which channels a Wild West saloon, and play eenie-meenie-minie-moe with Queensland’s best brews rotating through the 12 taps regularly.

Chase it down with a plate of American BBQ (think chicken wings, pulled pork nachos, slow-smoked brisket and ribs) or perch on the verandah, froth top in hand, and watch the sun set over the beach.

Where: 1097 Gold Coast Highway, Palm Beach. When: Wednesday and Thursday 4pm-10:30pm, Friday and Saturday 11am-midnight, Sunday 11am-10:30pm.

Balter Brewing, Currumbin

Helmed by a crew of the Gold Coast’s most famous pro surfers and buddies – including Mick Fanning, Bede Durbidge, Josh Kerr and Joel Parkinson – Balter is equal parts warehouse-style brew room and cool laneway bar.

The brewery’s cellar door is a place for a casual catch up with mates over a freshly pulled XPA or Balter’s own tinnies. Taste the offerings just metres from where all the magic happens, request a brewery tour, or nosh on some street food from one of the food trucks that roll up every Friday.

Where: 14 Traders Way, Currumbin. When: Wednesday and Thursday 3pm-8pm, Friday 3pm-9pm, Saturday 12pm-8pm, Sunday 12pm-7pm.

Lost Palms Brewing Co., Miami

If you rate the aesthetic of a drinking den as much as what’s pouring, the Lost Palms brewery in the cool hub of Miami is ripe for the Instagramming.

Here, you can sample the usual suspects like lager, pale ale and IPA brews, as well as creative concoctions like the key lime pie sour. But what sets these guys apart is their support of the local art community with frequent collabs on artist-designed cans and packaging.

Where: 11 Oak Avenue, Miami. When: Friday and Saturday 12pm-9pm, Sunday 12pm-7pm.

Burleigh Brewing Co., Burleigh Heads

Grab a seat in the taphouse at Burleigh Brewing Co., the OG of Gold Coast microbreweries. Super-cool digs are accompanied by many famous award-winning brews on the 24-tap line-up, from 28 Pale Ale and Figjam IPA to My Wife’s Bitter and a rotation of one-offs.

Takeaway cartons, growler fills and walk-through tours of the production traps are available when the bar’s open; while live music and food trucks add to the hoppiness.

Where: 2 Ern Harley Drive, Burleigh Heads. When: Friday and Saturday 3pm-8:30pm, Sunday 2pm-6pm.

Black Hops Brewery, Burleigh Heads

Giving the people what they want – and paid for – is Black Hops’ reason for being. The crowdfunded social media darling of a brewery flung its doors open in April 2016 to rapturous applause and many thirsty mouths.

The brewery’s garage-feel taproom is home to 14 taps serving up Black Hops’ core range of beers plus exclusive tipples only available onsite. Bonus: it’s family-and dog-friendly too!

Where: 15 Gardenia Grove, Burleigh Heads (there’s also Black Hops II – a second production brewery and taproom – located at 671 Pine Ridge Road, Biggera Waters). When: Wednesday to Friday 12pm-7pm, Saturday and Sunday 12pm-6pm.

Bine Bar and Dining, Mermaid Beach

For a serious paddlin’ from eight craft beer taps and loads of bottled beers, matched with decadent pub fare, hop on over to Bine Bar and Dining.

Pair your fruit beers, ciders, darks or pales with loaded burgers (mmm mushroom with spiced, hummus avocado and slaw), fancy parmis (hello, bacon and onion jam with camembert) and tacos (we’ll take three of the spicy buffalo chicken please) and dinner and drinks is sorted.

Where: 1/28 Chairlift Avenue, Mermaid Beach. When: Monday to Thursday 4pm-late, Friday 3pm-late, Saturday and Sunday 12pm-late.

Sandbar, Surfers Paradise

The neon-lit strip of Surfers Paradise isn’t all shots and cheap beer; there are plenty of craft beer haunts if you know where to look. Take Sandbar – inside the Hamptons-meets-harbourside fit-out their taps are a who’s who of the Gold Coast’s (plus Brisbane and Australia’s) best breweries.

Pull up a chair at one of the beach-side tables for an afternoon of views and brews, from gluten-free pale ale and barrel-aged ale to limited release bottles. The extensive wine, cocktail and spirits list is worth a glance as well.

Where: 52 The Esplanade, Surfers Paradise. When: Monday to Thursday 7am-1pm, Friday and Saturday 7am-midnight, Sunday 7am-10pm.

House of Brews, Surfers Paradise

Then, make your way to House of Brews to tackle the mammoth 32 taps that make up their draught beer selection and unleash your inner rock god or goddess with live music on weekends.

The American-inspired taphouse also serves up a mean food menu to wrap your smackers around. You can expect monster portions a la the U S of A when it comes to the big BBQ plate, 12-inch gourmet hot dog and burgers with waffle fries.

Where: 17 Orchid Avenue, Surfers Paradise. When: 7 days 12pm-1am.

  When to go

Raise your glass to the hoppiest time of the year! The Gold Coast’s biggest brew-fest, Crafted Beer & Cider Festival, pulls into Broadbeach on Saturday 7 September 2019. The perfect time to kick off your craft beer crawl, Crafted will showcase over 40 breweries and 200+ beers (including some festival exclusives) from your Gold Coast faves as well as interstate and international drops.

In true festival fashion, there’ll be lives tunes from The Delta Riggs and other local acts, plenty of tasty bites and even beer yoga to ensure good vibes all ’round.

Have we missed any? Where’s your favourite craft beer bar or brewery on the Gold Coast?  

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