#Blake Seltzer

[ginanddonuts]

It’s been a minute since I did one of these, but in a year that started with the death of a legend , and saw music infrastructure fracture even further into hyper-niche corners, I found myself more engaged than I’ve been in a while with new rap. Maybe the sheer impossibility of staying on top of everything freed me up to just hear what I hear and rock with what I like, or maybe I just finally burnt myself out playing Starlito tapes on repeat and needed something to switch it up with, but picking 50 was actually kinda tricky. Who knew?

In alphabetic order. Got em’ in a YouTube and an Apple Music playlist for easy listenin'

Armand Hammer - Y'all Can't Stand Right Here (prod. Steel Tipped Dove & Messiah Musik) AyooLii - Shmackin Town (prod. 2PHONENOAH) Baby Osama - Only Girl in the NBA (prod. ?) Babyface Ray ft Los & Nutty - Luh Tyler Flow (prod. TanaFyeThatShitUp2) BabyTron ft Luh Tyler - Kai Cenat / Old Days (prod. Hokatiwi) billy woods - Rapper Weed (prod. Kenny Segal) Bobby Too Tact - Real Facts (WhoRunItNYC Performance) (prod. Lowkeymali) 2HUMPY x 2RARE - 2HUMPY Anthem (prod. 2HUMPY) Certified Trapper - Over Seas (prod. Certified Trapper) Christ Dillinger - Ima Go Out Fighting Like King Von (prod. Seepy) Connie Diiamond ft Jenn Carter - Ghetto & Ratchet (prod. DJAaronOnDaBeat & Milan Made It) CrackWhite - Black Pain (prod. RAN) Danny Brown ft Bruiser Wolf - Y.B.P. (prod. SKYWLKR, Kassa Overall) DJ Fresh ft E40, Larry June & Dreebo - Pop My Shit (prod. DJ Fresh) Earl Sweatshirt - Making the Band (Danity Kane) (prod. Evilgiane) FLEE - Hunnibun (prod. Natt Carlos) Gabe 'Nandez - Long Reach (prod. Argov) Ice Spice - Deli (prod. RiotUSA) IceColdBishop - Last Night (prod.BREGMA, Jeremy Uribe, David Emanuel & Bubbs) ICYTWAT - Black Card (prod. Rocco Roy) Jay Hound ft Jay5ive - Ukraine (prod. DoubleM) Kari Faux ft Devin the Dude - DOG (prod. Phoelix) KARRAHBOOO - Running Late (prod. Gentlebeatz & Yovng Blake) Key Glock - In And Outta Town (prod. BandPlay & Hitkidd) Killer Mike ft. Future, Andre 3000, Eryn Allen Kane - Scientists & Engineers (prod. André 3000, No I.D., DJ Paul, James Blake & TWhy) King Vision Ultra ft Lord Kayso - Media Training (prod. King Vision Ultra) Maiya The Don - Dusties (prod. Pliznaya & Derrick Milano) Maz G x AyooLii - Jack TAP (prod. AyooLii) Niontay ft Earl Sweatshirt, El Cousteau, & MIKE - Real hiphop (prod. Tony Seltzer & Vinny Fanta) Noname ft $ilkMoney & billy woods - gospel? (prod. Gaetan) NR Boor x OT7 Quanny - Body 4 Body (prod. Pyro-Z5) Oodaredevil - No Regular (prod. Cade, Giannii) Paris Texas ft Kenny Mason - DnD (prod. Paris Texas, Dilip, William J. Sullivan, Julian Ali, Romil Hemnani) Rent Check ft Baghead & Vazh - Full Court(prod. Baghead) RXKNephew - Matching moncler (prod. Warheart) Sexyy Red - Shake Yo Dreads (prod. Kat Lightning & AyoCBass) ShyBelligerent-Trynna Make It Out (prod. SheeeshJon) SieteGang Yabbie - Everybody Eats B (prod. 500K?) Smokingskul - Blue Zan (prod. Pdf) Stonedda5th - Changed (prod. CYOUNGBEATZ) That Mexican OT ft Paul Wall & Drodi - Johnny Dang (prod. TobiAli) Tisakorean ft Sunny Galactial - uHhH HuH.mP3 (prod. TisaKorean) TREE x Vic Spencer - Suede on the Roof (prod. CJ the Kid) Treety - "Making Love" (prod. Blaqnmild) Valee ft 03 Greedo (prod. Harry Fraud) Young Nudy - Pancake (prod. Coupe) Young Thug ft Slime & Lil Goth - Hoodie (prod. Southside & Metro Boomin) Zelooperz - 4Inju (prod. Carlo Anthony) 41 - Run That (prod. Touchamill, Jake Krumm, Kshawn Van Huner & Hunter Tomeo)

[lordelmelloi2]

You can try and be a casual drinker and pretend like you're being anti-pretentious by scoffing at dry red wines or hard liquors and etc. but sooner or later you'll face the fact that it's not Pretentiousness that is what surrounds alcohol it's the fact that there's a massive breadth of like, history and culture that is extremely linked with it... IMO, the actual root of pretentiousness in alcohol is celebrity name spirits and beverages, which lead to problematic production lines, I'm thinking about casamigos and 818 and teremana, I'm also thinking about those faux manly whiskies released by friends of fucking Joe Rogan like Tiger Thicc or whatever, or every influencer releasing a new alcoholic seltzer... that's where the pretentiousness starts. Wines and spirits usually have cultures and histories attached to them -- real pretention is when it's done solely for cash grabs because it's hip. I mean why are these non-drinkers releasing alcoholic beverages anyways? Why did JLO release Delola, she doesn't drink. Why did Blake Lively release Betty Booze, she also doesn't drink. I mean come on

[nwbeerguide]

Avid Cider announces cidery expansion into a 15000 square foot warehouse in Redmond Oregon.

image courtesy Avid Cider Co.

Press Release

Bend, OR: 6/26/23 — Avid Cider announced today that they will be relocating their production  facility to Redmond, Oregon. The move comes as part of Avid’s ongoing expansion efforts as a  result of the 2022 partnership with Blake's Hard Cider of Michigan. The Redmond production  facility is currently occupied by Silver Moon Brewing, with the transition expected to be  completed by November 2023. Avid Cider will take over the existing 15,000 square foot  production facility in Redmond, which includes a sizable tank farm to produce exciting new  products.  

"We're so excited to move into a fantastic new production facility," said Avid Cider's CEO and  Co-Founder, Samantha Roberts. "This move will allow us to increase our production capacity  and continue to meet the growing demand for our ciders and Seven Peaks Seltzer brand. We  look forward to working with the team at Silver Moon Brewing to ensure a smooth transition and  

continued success." she continued. Avid plans to keep all current production employees and will  plan to hire additional roles within the company as operations expand.  

The facility changes come at a perfect time for both organizations as Avid looks to ramp up  production capabilities and as Silver Moon focuses on better synergy and efficiencies with  operations at a single location. “Transitioning into a 15,000 sq ft production facility will not only  expand our capacity, but it allows us to elevate our quality, streamline efficiencies, and amplify  our overall production at Avid Cider Co.” said Avid Cider’s Operations Manager, Scott Krug.  “This will allow us to continue producing our high-quality cider for not only our friends and  followers in Central Oregon, but the Pacific Northwest and beyond.” he continued.  

The transition is expected to be completed by November of this year. The financial terms of the  deal were not disclosed. 

### 

Now in their 10th year as a cidery, Avid Cider was founded as a result of dissatisfaction with the  lack of variety and excessively dry or cloyingly sweet ciders available in the marketplace in  2013. They saw the opportunity to create hard cider that better balances the elements of a  flavor profile and satiates our thirst for a cider that is “just right.” They are on a mission to bring  out the best of the Northwest with their clean, natural, and locally sourced cider.

from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/3D6ZkC9

[blake-michaels]

Blake laughs, "Let's not do that, babes. I like you in one piece." Her arm bends up at the elbow to pull Cora closer by the grip she has on her, determined to not lose her in the crowd. Sharky's isn't enormous by any means, but the crowd would prove it a difficult task to relocate Cora.

"I want a Long Island Tea, but you shouldn't be asking me my drink because I'm buying yours," Blake tuts, wagging a finger toward Cora when they break free of the crowd. She leads them to the bar near the exit to the smoker's porch. "What will it be, Elizabeth? Cocktail, beer, seltzer? A shot? Anything you want."

@coradeveraux

"Sounds like a deal then. I feel like I'm going to combust," she said, fanning herself despite her mother's old warning immediately popping into her mind. The effort of fanning yourself will only make you hotter, Coralie. She did her best to chase the thought away, forcing a smile in an attempt to cheer herself up. "Yeah, let's. I could do with a few drinks." Cora led the way, holding on to her friend's arm as they pushed their way through the crowd. "What will you have?" @blake-michaels

[transolar]

Albert Krueger, Vincent Edgeworth, and Victor Blake stimboard

o.x.x-x.o.x-x.x.o

requested by no one <3

[nofatclips]

Balenciaga by Princess Nokia from the album Everything Sucks - Directed by Paulette Agnes Ang

[goodspiritsnewsat]

GSN Brews News: April 6th 2021 Edition

GSN Brews News: April 6th 2021 Edition

Arkansas’ Smithworks, part of the Pernod Ricard portfolio, has launched a new hard seltzer lemonade in partnership with country singer and The Voice host Blake Shelton. The 5% abv malt-based seltzers come in four flavors—Classic Lemon, Ripe Strawberry, Southern Peach Tea, and Crisp Lime—and are available in 12-can variety packs, 6-packs of Classic Lemon, and 23-ounce tallboys of Classic Lemon and…

[musings-from-mars]

Welp, part 5 is a must now

Freelance Love Triangle AU - Part 5

Blake wasn’t sure why she’d been so curious about hard seltzer when she already knew she hated sparkling water. But here she was drinking what vaguely suggested that it might be cherry flavored, yet Ruby seemed to like hers, and Blake had already said she liked it. Gotta finish it now…

Cinder was right about it being quaint. Blake usually shied away from late night trips to the bar because the ones she’d been to were the “loud music, pick up chicks” types. This, however, was more easy going, softer music and people here to chat with friends more than anything else. And since it was a weekday evening, it wasn’t very busy (also a rare treat for a city like Vale).

The three of them sat at the bar, the bow tie and vest wearing barman leisurely drying a glass with a fiber cloth as he handed Cinder her cheap glass of red wine. Blake wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, maybe that Cinder would order something from higher in the big wooden cabinet behind the bar, perhaps to show off her sophisticated tastes. But no, it was just a glass from an already opened bottle of something dark and astringent. At least she was being seemingly authentic.

Blake needed the occasional reminders that Cinder wasn’t the highbrow, high class villainess she made her out to be in her head. She was Blake’s coworker and made no more than she did. Maybe Blake just had a complex, imagining her as an opponent. And Ruby was the prize she felt like they were warring over.

I’m a fucking piece of shit. And dumb. She took another sip of alcohol soda water, accepting it as her punishment.

“Want a taste?” Cinder asked Ruby, sliding her glass to her.

The photographer eyed the dark red liquid skeptically, but she grabbed the stem of the glass anyway. “I’ll try.” She took the smallest of sips, then came away with an expression like she had just bitten into a lemon. “Heghhh…”

Cinder giggled, seeming to be genuinely amused. “It’s an acquired taste.”

Blake reached over, but looked to Cinder for permission to try. Cinder noticed, and for half a second seemed surprised, but then she smiled and nodded. Blake took a sip, and yep, it felt like all the moisture had been zapped from her mouth the moment the wine passed her tongue. She slid the glass back to Cinder. “I don’t think I’ll acquire it.”

Cinder rolled her eye, but continued to smile. Blake took a drink of her seltzer. At least now she knew it could be worse.

“So, uhm…” Ruby began, pausing to sip her drink. “When did you two, like…how’d you become writers.”

Blake looked across to Cinder, and Cinder went first. “It wasn’t my plan initially, but I eventually figured out that I wanted to write for a living. But I didn’t figure that out until I was a third year physics student at my university. Had an identity crisis, had a financial crisis, had a crisis crisis, I’m a journalist now.” She punctuated that with a sip of wine, and both Ruby and Blake laughed. “Blake had a slightly less stressful go at it, if I remember correctly.”

Blake blushed at that, but nodded in agreement. “College was the easy part. It was the after college part that was hard. Urban Valean is, like, the fifth publication I’ve written for in the past two years and it’s the first one I’ve actually enjoyed.”

“I can agree with that,” Cinder added.

“Huh.” Ruby bowed her head a bit. “So I kinda got lucky, huh?”

“Got lucky because of the magazine you’re working for? Or lucky because you’re working with us?” Cinder asked. Blake felt her face warm, both because of Cinder’s obvious flirting, but also because of her use of the word “us.”

Ruby chuckled bashfully and shrugged. Cute. “Both, I guess. You two are really cool, and…nowhere near as mean as I was worried you would be.”

“You thought we’d be mean?” Blake asked, concerned.

Ruby’s back straightened and she shook her head. “I mean, uhh…not you two specifically! I just mean, like, I always imagined I’d get teased, or like, not taken seriously at my first gig. But I liked you both pretty much right away. I’m really enjoying working on this project.” She smiled genuinely, and it made Blake’s heart soar.

“Yeah, you are pretty lucky to be working with us,” Cinder assured her with a chuckle. “And that’s not me being an ass, I mean that. There are a lot of high-strung jerks out there.”

“Yeah,” Blake agreed, then felt her breath catch in her throat. Was she talking about her?

“Blake and I are the types who…you know, we enjoy what we do, but we don’t take ourselves too seriously. At least, most of the time.” And then she winked at Blake. It was a little hard to tell at first because, well, one eye, but that was definitely a wink. She tipped her head in her direction and everything.

At least Blake wasn’t one of those high-strung jerks, then.

“Thank you both, seriously,” Ruby told them, then took the last sip of her drink. “I was so scared when I graduated, because I didn’t know what to do, but…now I feel like I’m on a good track, of some sort. I…” She paused and flinched a bit, then she pulled out her phone, and she went a bit paler. “Oh, shit! I totally forgot!”

“What?” Blake asked.

“Did you leave your other laptop in the oven?” Cinder joked.

“No no, it’s my sister. She invited me over tonight and I completely forgot. I…” She suddenly got to her feet and started fumbling around in her pockets. She finally pulled out her wallet and left a few Lien on the bar. “I am so sorry that I’m leaving so quick, I really would love to stay, but…”

“Don’t worry about it, Ruby. This won’t be our last time hanging out,” Cinder assured her. “We’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

Ruby sighed and nodded. “Thanks.” She turned towards Blake and grinned as she began to leave. “Bye! Thanks again!”

Blake and Cinder both watched her leave, and then a relative silence fell over them, with an awkward empty seat now separating the two.

Blake heard Cinder take in a deep breath, then hopped into the seat Ruby had just vacated. “Blake, can I ask you something?”

Blake’s heart was suddenly hammering in her chest, both due to the open-ended question, and the sudden reduction in distance between them. “Uhh…you just did.”

Cinder huffed the faintest laugh. “Blake, I feel like we should probably talk about this like a couple of adults.”

“Talk about what?” Blake asked, apparently deciding to play dumb.

“About Ruby,” Cinder deadpanned. “About how obviously we both seem to like her. Unless I’m misreading things horribly.”

Blake sighed and shook her head. “No, you’re just about spot on,” she admitted.

“I figured. I can’t help but feel like you view this as us both competing for her affections, but as much as I’d normally appreciate drama like that, when I’m involved, I’d prefer we handle it like real people rather than like rom-com characters.”

Cinder’s eloquence got on Blake’s nerves as usual, only now she was beginning to examine why. Cinder was so irritatingly attractive, and yet she was exactly right about the whole competing thing. Why did Blake have to view her as an opponent all the time, when they had just told Ruby how they were both just a couple of stressed out freelance writers? She took another sip of hard seltzer, realized her glass was empty, and despite her disdain for the taste, signaled the bartender for a refill.

“I am most concerned about Ruby herself,” Cinder continued. “Whether she’s even interested in either of us in that way, or if she is interested in such a relationship at all. So I believe that’s our most important concern right now. Let’s be upfront with her as well, right?”

“You want us to tell her that we both fancy her,” Blake asked, as a statement rather than as a question. The bartender slid another pint glass of fresh-from-the-can hard seltzer. “I can’t imagine that going well.” Nor could she imagine her blood pressure handling such a situation well.

“But at least then we’d know early on whether our feelings are misplaced or not,” Cinder pointed out, and finished off her glass. She signaled for another, probably mirroring Blake’s failure to adhere to her “only one drink” declaration from earlier. “It would save us the anxiety.”

“For you, maybe,” Blake said with a dry laugh. “I can’t imagine telling her something like that, especially since we’re supposed to be keeping things professional. Imagine if she freaks out and tells Robyn? She’d be in the right if she did.”

“I doubt she would, I have a good feeling, if I’m being honest,” Cinder admitted as the bartender finished refilling her glass.

“I don’t!” Blake said, an incredulous smile on her face.

“It’s up to you, Blake,” Cinder assured her and took a sip of her wine. Blake noticed a faint red tint to her cheeks. “I won’t make a move without your…input?”

“What, like, some sort of bro code?” Blake asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She took a few hasty sips from her drink, as if that would calm her down at all. “We’re not frat boys.”

“As I said, I want us to handle this like adults,” Cinder reiterated, eying Blake’s glass with faint concern. “And I think going behind your back, undercutting you…” She let that linger.

Blake sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. “Would be shitty, yeah, I got that.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Blake.”

Blake held her breath and looked at her, studying her face as she drank more wine. That came out of nowhere. “What do you mean?”

“You compare yourself to others, or most notably, to me all too often,” Cinder told her, setting her glass back down. “You are a woman of merit, and you shouldn’t hamper yourself with the expectations that other people already deal with. You are just one person. You need to do what you can, and less of what you feel like I can. You’ll stress yourself out far less once you do.”

Blake tried to take in all of that, but at this point, her head was a little too foggy to accept new information for archiving. This hard seltzer wash was more potent than she expected. Or maybe she was more of a lightweight than she thought. “Easy for you to say. You get cover so often…”

“I’ve also been doing this longer than you have,” Cinder pointed out. “You’re putting the expectations I deal with on top of your own by comparing yourself to me. I used to do that all the time, hence the crisis crisis I mentioned earlier? Once I stopped giving two fucks about everyone else, life got easier.”

Blake shook her head. She knew Cinder had a point, but she just couldn’t fathom the full breadth of her testimony. “Well, I guess I’ll start working on giving fewer fucks moving forward.” She finished her second glass all too soon. She shook her head when the bartender asked if she wanted another as he took her glass.

Cinder laughed, which weirdly made Blake feel a little better. “Everyone starts somewhere.”

“Yeah.” It certainly sounded nice, no longer caring what other people thought, or even ignoring her own head and just doing what felt right. But how did that relate to the Ruby situation? The thing that would feel right would be to go find wherever she was right now and proclaim her affections, but even that felt like too much right now. The alcohol wasn’t helping.

Cinder seemed to recognize that and took a few more sips of wine before sliding the almost-empty glass away and pushed herself off of the barstool. “Just put it on my tab, thanks.”

“Are we leaving?” Blake asked, not noticing Cinder had gotten up until she’d gently taken her by the wrist.

“You are, anyway. You need to get home.” Cinder told her as she helped her off her stool. “Lightweight.”

Blake would have argued if standing didn’t make her even woozier. She was in that odd in-betweenness of buzzed and drunk. She felt completely aware of her surroundings but felt like she was controlling all of her body’s movements manually, as if letting something go unnoticed would result in her falling over. Thankfully, Cinder kept ahold of her, though the feeling of her faintly cold hand on Blake’s wrist proved to be a distraction all on its own.

They started down the street. Blake walked as normally as she could, save for the occasional sway that Cinder would correct for her. She felt so stupid for having more than one drink despite what she said before. At least Cinder was being nice. “Wait…”

“Hm?” Cinder asked.

“My laptop,” Blake said. “I left my laptop at the office.”

“It’ll be there where you get there in the morning.”

“No, I need it tonight. I gotta take down my notes and do some preliminary searching for contact information for the artists.”

“It can wait, hun,” Cinder assured her.

“It’s on the way,” Blake half-lied. It wasn’t tremendously out of the way, but going straight home would be quicker and easier, not that Cinder knew that.

Cinder sighed and shook her head. “Fine, dumbass, let’s go to the office.”

Blake might have taken offense, but felt too victorious at successfully convincing her.

Cinder buzzed them both in with her ID card, and sure enough, Blake’s laptop bag was still on her chair. They were the only ones at the office at this late an hour. It felt eerily quiet, considering how noisy it could be during the day. In Blake’s slightly intoxicated state, it was especially surreal.

“Do you…do you need to sit down for a moment?” Cinder asked, her voice lulling.

Blake hadn’t put her bag over her shoulder yet, instead holding the shoulder strap as it rested on the floor. She considered Cinder’s suggestion, then shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Just tired.” Then she swayed a little too far in one direction, overcorrected in the other, and began to stumble. “Huh-!”

Cinder stepped forward quickly and caught her, wrapping her arms securely around Blake’s shoulders in an awkward embrace. “Careful!”

Blake groaned in annoyance, then held her breath when she fully recognized her position, held tightly in Cinder’s arms, face-to-face with her. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I just lost my balance for a bit, I’m fine.”

Cinder shook her head at her. She licked her lips before speaking, as if it was difficult to find the words. “No, you need to sit down.”

“Why?” Blake asked, finding herself unable to look away from Cinder’s lips.

“You’re not fit to walk home yet,” Cinder told her, her voice quieter than before, almost a whisper. She began to slowly lead Blake to her desk chair without letting go of her. “Just sit until you feel better.”

“But…no,” Blake said, almost a mumble.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you to let go of me yet.”

Blake didn’t realize what she said until noticing the look on Cinder’s face, her eye wide and her mouth hanging open slightly. Blake’s face got so hot she thought she might break out into a sweat.

“You want me to keep holding you?” Cinder asked quietly.

Blake couldn’t meet her face, instead staring at the collar of Cinder’s jacket. At first she wanted to double back and correct herself, but then again…

She let her head drift forward until her forehead rested on Cinder’s shoulder, and she did her best to wrap her arms around her despite Cinder pinning them to her sides. Cinder felt tense, but Blake let herself relax within her embrace, letting out a slow sigh.

“Blake?” Cinder whispered to her, but didn’t continue.

“Just hold me,” Blake said back, voice muffled by Cinder’s jacket.

“Do you like it when I hold you?” Cinder asked.

“Yeah.”

Cinder let out a shaky breath, then chuckled softly. She shook her head as she allowed Blake to sink further into the embrace. “Yeah. I like it too.”

[shefanispeculator]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by R Clayton Williams (@claymakescakes)

claymakescakes

Happiest of Birthdays to Smithworks Best Bud Blake Shelton!

I'm so overjoyed to be given the honor to help Smithworks surprise Blake with this awesome giant cooler cake on his birthday!

Layers of chocolate fudge cake with chocolate ganache and chocolate French buttercream are hidden in the bottom and layers of velvet vanilla bean cake with vanilla Franco-Italian buttercream on top. Sugar "ice" and Rice Krispy filled hard seltzer lemonade cans bring the whole cake to life!

Scroll through for behind the scenes!

Thanks again to

@smithworksvodka

and Happy Birthday

@blakeshelton

you are one classy guy!

[wherewhereare]

Blake Shelton Reveals the Advice He'd Give His Younger Self: 'The Mullet's Not as Cool as You Think'

Blake Shelton — who just launched a new line of hard seltzer lemonade — is celebrating the 20th anniversary of his hit debut single, "Austin," this month

By

Melody Chiu

April 07, 2021 01:00 PM

After Winning The Voice 7 Times, Blake Shelton Hilariously Compares Himself to Tom Brady×

From mullet man to Sexiest Man Alive!

As Blake Shelton approaches the 20th anniversary of his No. 1 debut single, "Austin," on April 16, the star is looking back on his road to superstardom — and the fashion faux pas he's made along the way.

"I would have told that kid, 'Hey man, the mullet's not as cool as you think it is,'" the 44-year-old country singer — who just launched a new line of hard seltzer lemonade with his company Smithworks — tells PEOPLE exclusively in this week's issue. "And I would have told myself to get more rest back then. When I started I was 24 and lived life to the max back then. It's probably why I ran out of battery so soon."

Released in April 2001, "Austin" was Shelton's first No. 1 hit on the Billboard Hot Country Songs chart and catapulted him to stardom. Since then he's released 11 studio albums (his twelth, Body Language, is set for release in May) and embarked on nine headlining tours.

"These days I'm just kind of a slow slug," quips Shelton, who's performing a mashup of "Austin" and his latest hit, "Minimum Wage," at the Academy of Country Music Awards on April 18. "Luckily I got the job on The Voice and I get to sit in the red chair most of the time for a living."

Jokes aside, Shelton spent the last two years hard at work on his upcoming album, which he says is a departure from his previous work.

"I'm really happy The Swon Brothers, who were on my team on The Voice in season four, wrote [the title track] and sent it to me. It's such a different sounding song," he says. "I'm to the point in my career where I always want to try to reinvent myself. I keep one foot in traditional country but at the same time ... find new sounds and new music."

Over the last few years, Shelton has teamed up with his future wife, Gwen Stefani, on several hit songs. Their first — 2016's "Go Ahead and Break My Heart" — holds a special place in his heart, and the star says it's been incredible to find success together.

For more on Blake Shelton, pick up the latest issue of PEOPLE, on newsstands Friday.

Gwen Stefani and Blake Shelton | CREDIT: NBC

"I've been lucky enough to have won my share of those things over the years and so has she, just not country music awards," Shelton says of racking up nominations and awards with their duets. (He and Stefani won a CMT Award in October.)

Nominated for an ACM award together this month for their hit "Nobody But You," the couple are still "so excited," he says. "Gwen's so blown away. She's just shocked and so happy to be welcomed into [the country] family."

Still, don't expect either to make permanent moves into each other's musical worlds. "One of the things that she's adamant about is she wants people to know that she's not making a country album or trying to just step into that area," he says. "She just likes to make records with me. And if you're going to make a record with me, whether you like it or not, it's going to end up country. I can't help it!"

Over the last year, Shelton also tapped Stefani, 51, for her help as he put the finishing touches on his new hard seltzer.

RELATED: Look Back at What Blake Shelton Had to Say About The Voice 10 Years Ago Compared to Today

RELATED: Blake Shelton Was Shocked Gwen Stefani Drove a 'Minivan to Work,' Says Adam Levine 'Owes' Wedding Performance

"For me, it's something you throw in the ice chest when you go out to the lake — and we definitely spend a lot of time on the lake every year," he says.

Because of the ongoing coronavirus pandemic, Shelton's taste testers weren't as readily available. Luckily, he had Stefani more than willing to pitch in.

"The things that I like, for instance, the pickle juice flavor, didn't come to light for some reason," he jokes. "I really lean on the team there at the company and even people on my team. There was a time or two where I even asked Gwen, like 'What do you think of this? What would you do differently?' There's something for everybody in there."

As he gears up for a jam-packed future, Shelton is amazed at all he's been able to accomplish in the last two decades.

"Here I am sitting here talking to you 20 years later after 'Austin' came out — not only talking to you but talking about new music that's still coming out," he says. "I don't know how this happened to me, but I thank God every day. I've just been super blessed and super lucky. It's unbelievable."

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3.

Chapter 36: Martin

It’s an interesting weekend, to say the least, partly because of the startling news Sasha uncovered that Jonah Magnus isn’t the only avatar to attempt to extend his life (Jon Prime apologizes profusely for not telling them that, but Sasha points out that it wasn’t exactly important at the beginning and they have to discover some things for themselves) and partly because Tim tells them, Saturday night, that he thinks he’s got enough of a handle on his abilities that he can focus on a single person or object and not risk being blinded by anything else around them. He thinks he can control it. Jon is apprehensive, but agrees that if Tim really wants to test it, he’s willing to let him try a controlled test on Sunday.

They call Sasha, who turns up around teatime with the Primes. One by one they sit opposite Tim in the living room while he takes a deep breath, relaxes, and lets his eyes go slightly unfocused. For each one, he describes what he sees to them while Jon Prime jots down the notes for him, then passes the notebook to Martin so he can stand before Tim. They all know Jon Prime has been marked by all fourteen powers; Tim says he’s hoping to just get clarification on one or two colors he isn’t sure about. It’s apparently too much for him, though, especially since he’s done all the others first, and he passes out. He comes around fairly quickly, but he’s still weak and shaky and both Jon and Martin declare the test at an end. Tim doesn’t argue, but he also won’t go lie down on his own, and the Primes and Sasha quietly let themselves out so the other three can go to bed early.

He’s still a little shaky on Monday morning, but seems in good spirits. Jon hesitantly offers him one of the statements they’ve been saving for Jon Prime; Martin lets them argue for a couple minutes about the recordings before interrupting gently to ask, “Do you actually need to record it for it to count?”

“What?” both of them ask, turning to him in surprise.

Martin shrugs. “I mean…the recorders don’t belong to the Eye, right? So it’s not the act of actually recording them that feeds it. It’s just the reading of them. The…consumption, I guess? If you just go back into the shelves or into the Cavern of Secrets or whatever and read it out loud, that ought to be enough, right?”

Jon and Tim look at each other. “That’s…actually a good point,” Tim says finally. He holds out his hand, and Jon gives him the statement. “Be back in a bit. I hope.”

He brushes off their offers of help and half-staggers towards Document Storage. Jon watches him go, then turns to Martin. “How did you think of that?”

“They mentioned once that…” Martin glances upwards. It’s hard sometimes to be precise without actually mentioning the Primes, so he decides to take a risk and hope Elias’ attention is elsewhere. “Your counterpart used to go out and pounce people to get their statements. But he didn’t record them, just…listened to them. And since we really don’t know what’s actually behind the recorders, except that it isn’t what’s feeding us in return, it just makes sense that he doesn’t need to make it ‘official’ for it to count.”

“God, I never thought of it that way, but you’re right. We really do have a…symbiotic relationship with that thing.” Jon sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair. “I really shouldn’t let you three read any of these statements, but…”

“I don’t think there’s anything to be done about that now, Jon. We’re too tightly connected to it. We could none of us ever deliberately use the abilities it gave us again and I bet there’d be just enough…accidental occurrences to weaken us until we died. Starving ourselves won’t starve it.”

“You might be right, but I don’t have to like it.” Jon brushes his hand against Martin’s and changes the subject. “What are you working on today?”

“Um, we found another statement involving that space station, so I was going to see what I could dig up on that.”

“Good. Just be careful. I’ve got another backlog of recordings to do.” Jon grimaces. “Make Tim take it easy.”

“Easier said than done, but okay.” Martin smiles.

It’s easier than he expects, honestly. Tim is at least pretending to take care of himself, so when Martin tells him that both he and Jon want him to be careful, and Sasha makes it unanimous, he does. Apart from Jan Kilbride’s statement, everything else they’re looking into is something they all know is false, but they have to go through the motions. It’s oddly soothing, in its own way. Most of the morning passes with the three of them simply murmuring to one another when they find something interesting or mocking obviously false statements.

Tim and Sasha have a standing lunch date every Monday, something they’ve apparently done since they were in Research; Martin joined them once or twice, back at the beginning of everything, but bowed out after a while. It’s not that he felt uncomfortable or unwelcome so much as it is he feels like that’s their thing and doesn’t want to intrude. He waves them out absently, a pen clenched between his teeth as he tries to winnow down the list of Jenny Mackintoshes to a reasonable number that might be the one mentioned in the statement, false though it may be—they have to be sure, after all.

Less than five minutes after they leave, Sasha’s desk phone rings. Technically it’s for the Archives as a whole, and it used to be on Jon’s desk, but since that’s where he does his recordings and the relatively infrequent ringing forced him to have to redo a number of them, Tim managed to sweet-talk someone into installing it out on the main floor. Sasha’s desk is just the one closest to the connection. The ringing sounds more like a doorbell than a phone, and Martin’s still not sure it actually connects to the outside. He leans over and snags the receiver. “Archives, Martin Blackwood speaking.”

“Hi, Martin, this is the front desk.” Manal, as always, sounds slightly apologetic for having interrupted him. “There’s a Ms. Melanie King here to see Mr. Sims.”

“Thanks, Manal, I’ll be right up.” Martin hangs up the phone and glances towards Jon’s closed office door, then decides to just go get Melanie and let Jon know when they get back, if it’s important.

The front area of the Institute is a bit hectic, which it usually is this time of day as people pass back and forth on their way to lunch. He dodges around a few people, murmuring an absent response to the greetings of a woman who could almost be Quentin Blake’s drawings of Miss Trunchbull brought to life if she was a nicer-sounding person, and makes his way over to the front desk. Melanie King stands there, coat still on her shoulders and arms folded over her chest, tapping a foot impatiently against the floor, scanning the room as Manal looks up at her in amazement and adoration. Martin bites back a grin and approaches. “Ms. King?”

Melanie turns to him, eyes narrowed, and studies him for a second. “You’re—Martin, right? You used to work in the library?”

“Yep, that’s me.” Martin’s kind of surprised she knows that. “Martin Blackwood. You need to talk to Jon?”

“Yeah. You’d think at this point I wouldn’t need an escort.” Melanie says the last part almost under her breath.

“You’d think, but Elias gets his knickers in a twist about the oddest things sometimes,” Martin says. It elicits a surprised giggle out of Manal, who quickly covers her mouth with one hand and glances at the steps that lead to the first floor, to Rosie’s office and then the Institute Head’s. Sound travels oddly up those stairs from time to time, and now that Martin knows why the Institute was built, that doesn’t surprise him anymore. “Right this way…thanks, Manal.”

To her credit, Melanie waits until they’re halfway down the stairs before she says, “Does her mummy know she’s skipping school?”

“She’s almost twenty,” Martin says, briefly counting back to make sure he’s adding her age up right. “Been working here a couple years. I don’t think she was all that good a student.” He’s also fairly certain she pulled herself out of an abusive home life, or at least a shitty one, but he’s not going to say that out loud.

Melanie looks tired, but also determined. Martin feels like he’s got a mouthful of seltzer and bites his tongue to keep from asking her if she’s okay or what’s wrong; he knows by now what it tastes like when there’s a statement in the offing, and he doesn’t want to accidentally pull it out of her before she’s ready, or before Jon is. Something about her eyes says she’s only going to want to make this official.

Something about the way she looks at her wrist—take that, Tim, I’m NOT the only person under the age of forty who still wears a wristwatch—says she’s in a hurry, so he asks, as neutrally as he can, “Got somewhere to be? We can go faster if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got a plane to catch, but not for hours yet.” Melanie sighs. “No sense in breaking our necks over this.”

“Sure,” Martin says softly. A plane to catch. Ghost Hunt UK only investigates domestic hauntings—it’s right in their name, for Christ’s sake—and they’re on something of an indefinite hiatus anyway. Either Melanie is getting out of the country for a while, or she’s continuing her research on her own, and he’s not sure which outcome he’s hoping for.

Motioning for Melanie to wait once they reach the Archives, Martin pokes his head into the doorway of Jon’s office and waits until Jon looks up. Jon gives him a short nod, finishes reading the statement aloud, and pauses the recording. “Is everything okay? Tim—”

“Tim’s fine. He and Sasha left for lunch a few minutes ago,” Martin assures him. “It’s Melanie King, she’s back to talk to you. I…think you might need the tape recorder.”

“Ah.” Jon’s face goes through an interesting series of emotions that would make Martin smile in any other circumstances. “I…don’t know if you can sit in on this one, Martin, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’m going to finish up what I’m working on and then head out to lunch myself, if that’s all right with you?”

“That should be fine. I’ll run to the canteen when Tim and Sasha get back. Assuming Tim doesn’t try to foist leftovers on me.” Jon smiles. “Send her in.”

Martin ushers Melanie in and shuts the door behind her, then heads back to his desk. Oddly enough—or maybe not so oddly—the break seems to have done some good, because it’s a lot easier for him to winnow down the list, and before long he has five possible matches. He makes note of them, saves his work, and closes his laptop.

He can feel the edges of a migraine starting up, so he shakes out a couple aspirin tablets and swallows them with the last of his tea, wincing at the powdery drag down his throat. Just as he stands up and reaches for his jacket, Jon’s office door opens, and Melanie comes out, all but slamming it behind her. She’s obviously in a bad mood and Martin isn’t sure if it’s something Jon said or just her general irritation. Something in him, though, can’t leave it be. Not that he wants to know what’s causing the mood…just that he doesn’t want it to linger. Not if she’s about to leave the country.

“Melanie,” he calls.

She stops partway across the floor and turns to look at him, arms akimbo. “What?”

Martin holds up his jacket, feeling a little foolish. “I was just going out to grab lunch. Want to come along? There’s a little sandwich place a few minutes away that does some interesting things with turkey, if you like that sort of thing.”

Melanie blinks at him. “You’re asking…me…to go to lunch with you,” she says flatly.

“Yeah?” Martin makes a show of looking around the Archives. “You see anyone else around here I could be asking?”

“Why?”

“Because you look like you could use a friend?”

Melanie’s eyebrows draw together in a frown. Martin is about to elaborate when she says, seemingly apropos of nothing, “I’m a lesbian.”

“Great! I’m gay!” Martin blurts. “See, we have something in common already!”

Melanie actually cracks a smile at that, and her shoulders relax. It’s only then that Martin realizes she thought he was hitting on her and wants to smack himself with embarrassment. Before he can apologize, though, she shrugs. “Yeah, okay, why not?”

Martin manages a smile back, shrugs into his jacket, and leads her out the employee entrance rather than the main steps.

The morning’s haze has burned off, and it’s sunny without being too warm for comfort. Melanie keeps her hands in her pockets as she walks, her shoulders hunched forward. Watching her, Martin is more and more sure he’s making the right call. She was agitated when she got to the Institute and talking to Jon probably didn’t help. It so rarely does.

There’s something off about the sandwich shop when they get there, but Martin doesn’t know what it is until they step inside and see it liberally festooned in paper hearts and glitter-covered cupids. Both of them groan in unison.

“Want to go somewhere else?” Martin asks Melanie.

“God, yeah. Is there anywhere that won’t be doing…” Melanie waves a hand at the decorations. “This?”

“Um…” Martin tries to think. “Curry shop or a pub. Two blocks’ difference in either direction. Take your pick.”

“The pub. I’ll have plenty of chances for curry over the next…however long. And I could use a pint.”

Martin lets the door shut and turns to the right. “Heading to India, then?”

Melanie nods once, but offers nothing further. Martin lets it go for now.

It’s a workingman’s pub, nothing fancy or pretentious. When the team goes out for drinks—more frequently than they used to—this is the one they usually come to, partly because it’s not too expensive compared to some of the others and partly because the barman has a sense of humor as well as a sense of adventure and will make all sorts of weird mixed drinks for Tim. Also, the rest of the Institute prefers going to one of the more ostentatious, upscale places—the sort that cater to the tourists and the businessmen, really. This one’s quieter, which is just the way they like it. The owner, a man about Sasha’s height but closer to Martin’s weight called Pat, nods as they come in; Martin nods in reply, waves two fingers, then gestures at one of the tables. Pat throws him a casual salute in acknowledgment and points at the stack of single-sheet menus on the table by the door. Martin snags two and hands one to Melanie as they drop down in their seats.

Melanie grunts as she studies the list of daily specials. “I can’t think of anything worse than being single on Valentine’s Day.”

“Getting broken up with on Valentine’s Day,” Martin says dryly, also scanning the specials. “Don’t get the stew. It’s basically just last week’s leftovers. The meat pies should be all right, it being Monday and all.”

Melanie looks up at him in evident surprise, but when Pat comes over with their pints, she orders the pie. Once Pat lumbers off, she says, “Jesus, did that actually happen to you, or is that hypothetically speaking?”

“It was a few years ago, but yeah.” Truthfully, he’s always hated the holiday, dating back to when he was a child and lucky to get a generic card from a single classmate whose mother forced them to bring cards for the whole class. It wasn’t much better when he did start dating. By the time his mother waited until he got back from the disastrous date that culminated in his then-boyfriend storming out of the restaurant, leaving Martin with the check and no easy way home, to inform him she had decided to move into a care home effective immediately, he was pretty much over the whole concept.

“You’re well rid of him, then.” Melanie picks up her glass and stared at it. “Dated someone once who broke up with me three days before my birthday. Came back three months later, told me she was so sorry and wanted to give it another chance. I said yes. Like an idiot.”

Martin can’t help the bark of laughter that slips out. “Let me guess. Your birthday’s at the end of November?”

“Third of December. And I didn’t get it!” Melanie slaps her palm against the table. “She pulled the same stunt again that year, but this time I’d already bought her present. It was while I was returning it to the shop that it hit me she was breaking up with me to avoid all the gift-giving…stuff. God. Teenagers are so stupid sometimes.”

Martin raises his glass. “Cheers to that.”

Melanie clinks her glass against his, then takes a sip and relaxes back in her seat. “So…seriously. Why are you doing this?”

“Seriously, you looked like you could use a friend.” Martin takes a sip of his own beer. “And you looked kind of miserable. Didn’t want you going out of town like that.”

“Hmm.” Melanie studies him for a minute, then sets down her glass and holds out her hand across the table. “Melanie.”

“Martin.” Feeling a weird sort of relief, Martin accepts her hand and shakes it. They’re both smirking when they settle back. “How’d you get into doing Ghost Hunt UK, anyway?”

“Started back in uni. One of the buildings on campus was reputed to be haunted,” Melanie explains. “It was one of those stories that get told to first-year students at the beginning of term, you know? Everyone knew someone who knew someone who’d seen a ghost there. Either you believed it and stayed away from the building after dark, or you dismissed it as a story told to frighten gullible firsties.” She shrugs. “Me, I was somewhere in the middle. I was a lot more skeptical back then, you know? But I wasn’t ready to dismiss it altogether. I wanted proof.”

“So, what, you set up a hidden camera?” Martin asks.

Melanie shakes her head. “No, not exactly. I did research. Lots of it. I wanted to know if there’d really been a fire that someone was trapped in, or a student who jumped off the roof during finals week, or a murdered cleaning woman or whatever. And the thing was, there were a couple of events that tallied with some of the stories I’d heard, but, you know…”

“There’s still that question of whether or not it’s just got enough truth to be plausible so people stop looking.”

“Exactly! You get it. Anyway, I was studying Media and Communications, so when the opportunity came up to do our first student film project, I suggested to Andy—we were in the same class and he was my partner—that we do something regarding the alleged haunting. It was….um, actually, it was originally fiction. To be honest, I don’t think either of us really believed it at that point. But…well.”

Martin nods in understanding. “You found something, I take it?”

Melanie’s eyes sparkle. “Boy, did we ever. It turns out there were two ghosts. One of them was pretty harmless—the one that had jumped off the roof. Turned out it was a student who’d been on the verge of failing out and didn’t want to face his family. Mostly he didn’t appear, you’d just hear him crying in odd corners late at night, especially close to finals week. The other one…well, we weren’t quite sure which one she was, but she definitely didn’t die easy, and she wasn’t happy about it. We got some good stuff on camera and beat feet out of there. Our teacher complimented us on our brilliant script and asked how we’d done such good special effects, and…well, we kind of lied to her, but it worked out. After that I think we both knew we were going to make a career out of that. It was just such a thrill.”

She’s genuinely passionate about her work, Martin thinks, and it makes his heart ache for her that she’s not been able to do it for so long. “I talk with students sometimes—more when I worked up in the library, but one or two come down to use the Archives. Had more than a few cite Ghost Hunt UK as the reason they’re studying the paranormal.”

Melanie flushes. “Yeah, well…yeah.”

Pat brings their lunch about then. Martin’s about to prompt Melanie with another question when she throws one at him. “What about you? How’d you end up doing what you do?”

“Do you mean working at the Magnus Institute in general, or winding up in the Archives?”

“Either. Both. How’d you get interested in the paranormal?”

“Honestly? I just needed the job,” Martin admits. “My mum’s been…she’s been sick for a long time, but she suddenly got a lot worse. I was desperate for a job and the Institute was the only place that would hire me.”

“Oh.” Something in Melanie’s face changes. “I’m sorry. What—if it’s not too invasive, what’s…wrong with her?”

Martin shrugs, feeling the familiar prickle of uncertainty crawl up his spine. “Dunno. They’ve never quite been able to figure it out, actually? I’ve been given a big long list of what it isn’t. It’s not MS, it’s not Parkinson’s, it’s not ALS…and so on and so forth. At this point I’m prepared to say she’s got Liliana Blackwood’s Disease.”

Melanie winces. “God. That must be hell on both of you. The whole not-knowing thing.”

“Worse for me, honestly,” Martin says slowly. Something prickles in the back of his mind; he tries to shut out the feeling, but the Eye—he’s sure it’s the Eye—shoves it through his barrier like someone pushing an envelope under a door. “I think she has some idea what it might be, actually. Or why it suddenly got worse a few years ago. But I also kind of think maybe she enjoys it a little. The attention, anyway. Not the actual being…I-I mean, nobody wants their kid to have to take care of them like that.”

“Yeah,” Melanie says softly. “I don’t think my dad would have, either.”

Martin looks up sympathetically. “He was sick?”

“Dementia. Early onset. Mum took care of him until she died, and then—the job, and I just—I couldn’t be his full-time caretaker, and it wasn’t safe to have him at home alone. I had to put him in a home.” Melanie stares into her half-empty pint glass. “Wish I visited him more, before…”

“He stopped remembering you?” Martin asks gently.

Melanie shakes her head. “He remembered me up to the end, but he died a few years ago. I, uh…is your mother still at home or…?”

“No, she asked to go into a home a few years ago.” It’s a polite way of phrasing it. She hadn’t really asked so much as told him she was going.

“Then maybe you know about…not many people really paid attention when it happened. Even the crew at Ghost Hunt UK didn’t really…” Melanie hesitates, crumbling a bit of pie crust in between her thumb and forefinger. “Did you ever hear of a place called Ivy Meadows?”

Martin’s blood runs cold. “Oh, no.”

“Yeah,” Melanie agrees. “Dad was still there when it burned down. The official story was that it had closed down months before and all the patients transferred, but…I never quite got why they did that.” She sighs heavily.

“Corruption,” Martin says under his breath.

Melanie, unfortunately, hears him. “You’re saying the staff was corrupt?”

“No. Well, yes, but…” Martin hesitates. “Look, there’s…let’s just say someone connected to it made a statement to the Institute. It’s—it was a lot.”

“And you believe it?”

“Yeah. See…okay, look.” Martin picks up his glass and downs about half of what’s left in one go. He’s going to need it. “It’s a really long story, and I don’t think either of us have time for it right now, but…all of us who work in the Archives, we’ve got—we’ve developed these kind of…weird abilities. Powers, you might call them even. And one of them is that we can tell when a statement we’re listening to is something that actually happened—I mean, something that actually happened and really does have a supernatural or paranormal explanation—and something that’s fake or the result of a hallucination or anything like that.” He pauses. “It’s stronger for some of us than others, and we all get it in different ways.”

Melanie cocks her head at him. “Really.”

Martin nods. “Yeah, like—when I saw you at the front desk today? I knew you had a statement and I knew it was something that—uh—wouldn’t go on the laptop. You had to use the tape recorders, right? We only use those when it’s a proper spooky statement. Everything else will record digitally.”

Something about Melanie’s posture changes. “So that’s why he believed me.”

“Yep, that’s why,” Martin affirms. “If you want to know what we know about Ivy Meadows…I’ll tell you about it when you get back from India, maybe?”

“I don’t know that I will get back,” Melanie says frankly. She shrugs out of her coat and pulls aside the collar of her Ghost Hunt UK t-shirt, showing him a wicked-looking scar slashing down from her shoulder towards her heart. “These ghosts I’m chasing down are pretty nasty. It’s why I came to gave my statement—in case I get killed by one.” She lets the shirt fall back to its natural position. “I don’t want to die not knowing the truth. Go ahead and tell me.”

So Martin does. He keeps it as bare-bones as possible, but it takes a serious effort; the static gets louder in his mind and the pressure builds behind his eyes as Melanie gets paler and paler. The Eye wants her fear, and while Martin’s role is usually the comforter, the therapist, the let-it-all-out vent switch, in absence of anyone else to give Melanie the information to devastate her, it appears to be settling. Somehow, he manages to get away with telling her no more than the basics.

“Please don’t ask me for more details,” he mutters at last, breaking off a piece of the meat pie. “I won’t be able to not give them to you.”

Melanie visibly struggles to pull herself together, grief and rage mingling in her eyes as Martin tries to cope with the too-big bite he shoved in his mouth. Choking here in Pat’s pub wouldn’t be the most brilliant move in the world, but it was better than laying out someone else’s trauma to give Melanie more. He manages to swallow at last, about the time Melanie takes a deep breath and straightens.

“I want to see that file when I get back,” she says baldly.

“Deal. Anything to get you to actually make the effort,” Martin says pointedly.

Melanie looks slightly embarrassed. “I’m not suicidal.”

“No, but you don’t care if you die or not. I know what that looks like, Melanie. I’ve been there. You think you’ve got nothing left to live for and nothing to lose, so you’re willing to throw your life away on the off-chance it’ll improve things for someone else. The only difference is you’re not going to do it yourself.” Martin waits until she looks him in the eye, then says, “Whatever you’re looking into, Jon’s going to want to hear about it—we all are. I bet you want to know what’s going on at the Institute. And I really would like to actually get to be friends with you instead of—of speed-bonding or whatever we’re doing here.”

Melanie actually laughs at that. “Same, actually. Okay. Deal. I do my best to survive whatever’s waiting for me in India, and when I get back, drinks and I tell you all about it.”

“Sounds like a plan. Wait, here.” Martin grabs a pen out of his pocket—they seem to be almost as ubiquitous as the tape recorders these days—and scribbles his number on a napkin, then pushes it over to Melanie. “In case you need anything. Or just want to chat or whatever.”

“Thanks.” Melanie pulls out her own phone and types busily away at it. A moment later, Martin’s phone pings, and there’s a text from an unknown number: [Here’s mine back. Same deal.]

Martin saves the number and glances at the time to confirm he’s got time. “When does your flight leave?”

“Four. I’ve got to run home and grab my suitcase.” Melanie checks her own phone. “In fact, I should probably finish up eating here and call a cab.”

“Fair. I need to get back to work anyway.” Martin signals to Pat for the bill and hands over his card before Melanie can object. “It’s fine, seriously. I invited you, it’s my treat.”

“Fine, but the drinks are on me when I get back.”

“I accept those terms.”

Outside, Martin holds out his hand; Melanie starts to shake it, pauses, and then bypasses it and goes in for a hug. It startles him, but he hugs her back. In the back of his mind, he wonders when the last time someone touched her in a friendly manner was.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. “You’re right. It feels a lot better heading off with having spent time with—a friend.”

“Good.” Martin hugs her tighter for a second, then lets go as a cab pulls up. “Safe travels. Let me know when you get back.”

“I will. You be careful, too.” Melanie winks at him. “Good luck surviving Valentine’s Day.”

“Enjoy a year without it,” Martin snipes back. She actually laughs and waves before getting in the cab. He waits until it pulls out of sight, then starts the walk back to the Institute, feeling oddly better about a lot of things. It’s nice to have a friend. He just hopes she means what she says about being careful.

[ourpickwickclub]

Blake has a interview in Rolling Stone about the new hard seltzer line. After reading it I’m not convinced they actually even talked to him in person but maybe just a PR team paying RS for promotional considerations. 😂. Read it. Every answer basically draws back to promoting the seltzer. It’s hilarious.

I read that one. It was definitely a commercial dressed up as an article. 😆

— M

[dark-academia-tips]

The weed ask made me wonder - what about sober DA, at night specifically? My partner and I are giving up drinking for health reasons and, while (real) tea and coffee are very good in daytime, at caffeine-inappropriate hours there's just something very... Deeply unsexy and not aesthetic about La Croix at a gallery opening, seltzer and Shakespeare, or staying up late reading William Blake with a "sleepytime" herbal tisane.

my main tip for this would just be grape juice, honestly. it looks like wine without the alcohol, but it will of course shoot sugar-induced energy.

otherwise have you thought about decaffeinated coffee? it’s (surprise surprise) coffee but without the caffeine; basically you buy the beans and make it like you would a regular coffee and boom you have your coffee and your sleep schedule (do be careful about the technique used to remove the caffeine though; if you can i’d recommend the ones where they use only water)

also, a good, bitter, old-fashioned hot chocolate (made by actually melting dark chocolate in milk please); or alcohol free champagne for museum days.

alsopleasedontroasttisanesidrinkthemeverydayandifeltsosadreadingthis

tisane>tea

[bellamyblakru]

tag people that you want to know better!

thank you for tagging me @clarkesplaylist !! i’m guessing we have a lot of the same favorite characters 🥺 and @burninghoneyatdusk !! thank you so much for the tag :,) i posted mine a little while ago, and i was going to tag you on mine too but i didnt wanna double tag you since i saw you on the one i was tagged on🥺!! also, will herondale is a king!! love that boy

favorite color(s): light green!!

last song i listened too: patience sung by chris cornell (fucking amazing btw i recommend)

last film i watched: probably tangled tbh that’s my favorite movie to sleep to

last tv show i watched: roswell, new mexico. i gotta finish season two😩

favorite character(s): so many. Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake, Merlin, Mare Barrow, Aelin Galythinius, Rowan Whitethorn, Klaus Hargreeves, Sabrina Spellman, Dean Winchester..etc lmfao

pets: a couple pomeranians (winnie, tori (who are my pups) wicket, waffle, and willow) and two cats (dany and arya)

sweet, savory, or spicy food?: i gotta say spicy

sparkling water, tea, or coffee?: all good choices tbhh but ill say sparkling water as of late, i love seltzer🥺

favorite book(s): i love reading, and the ya fantasy books ive been reading are super interesting, but favorites are hard. ill say the hp and the order of the phoenix, king’s cage, and im currently reading heir of fire and it’s really fun to read so far.

favorite ice cream flavor: butter pecan but im allergic to pecans. it’s a sad paradox

one thing on your bucket list: ive always wanted to go to the UK and other countries away from the US. im a big history nerd and there is so much history there

favorite festival(s) you celebrate: i love christmas since my family is all together 🥺

tagging some lovely mutuals if you guys wanna do this��: @twinsarekeepers @peggysousfan @clarkegriffinspants @alexmaanes @bellamyb-a-e @legioncursednaturalist

[bellyjcksn]

A beatsPill in one hand, arm extended above her head while a sad song remixed to an EDM beat pulsed into the air, Belly vibed while on a bench at the park. She was trashed at six p.m., a stolen variety pack of WhiteClaws open on the ground next to her while all the mango flavored and half the grapefruit cans lay empty next to the box, onto the bench, and a stray one had found its way across the path as if it were trying to escape. In her other hand was an automated megaphone, one she had jacked from the local high school’s football field one of the afternoons that she had walked home from the Aldi to her apartment complex. Belly, almost to the point of blacked out drunk and wiggling to the mix she had gotten from Jonny, was about to pour one out like Lara Jean. Where the fuck was her Peter when she needed one? A quick throat clear and- “To All The Boys I Loved Before-“ Belly almost yelled into the speaker, setting down the BeatsPill and cracking open another WhiteClaw. 

“Gather ‘round fuckers! This is an ode to the boys I can’t help but fuckin’ miss. To Samuel, the OG WhiteClaw partner in crime! Anyone around here remember him? No? I do! This one’s for you, SammyBoy! Miss you and I wish you coulda bent me over your couch! To Blake! Where the fuck did that overly aggressive broody motherfucker even jet off to anyway? Pour one out for him and my fantasies of his fingers in my mouth!” Belly pointed over to some passerby with her drink in her hand, “c’mon over! It’s like really shitty Spoken Word! For douchebag Tyler! I know it was just a fuck between friends but c’mon, totally wish you could been all up in my guts again. Derek who, amirite!?”

A sip of the seltzer and Bellamy poured some of it out to the pavement in honor. “To Xavier, my mesmerizing night time casanova! The bleached hair really worked and I’m sticking that on my resume in place of his name in my little black book. A shame really, I heard his dick was hot fire and not in a bad way. And ah, Short King Forever, my one and only love! Chase! Here’s to him, living his best tall life in Hobbitland! I miss you buddy! If you can hear me, get some international data so you can send me dick pics, I promise I won’t be upset! No one could ever DoorDash this pussy the way you did! Send Bob my regards!”

[tossmeoutawindow]

Since I haven’t made an updated list in forever here’s a list of either horror books or books with horror or strange elements:

Horror books:

1. Goth by otsuichi

2. Cabin at the end of the world by Paul tremblay

3.my best friends exorcism by Grady Hendrix

4. The fireman’s by joe hill

5.help for the haunted by John Searles

6.the girl with all the gifts by m.r. Carey

7. A head full of ghosts by Paul tremblay

8.the child finder by Rene denfeld

9. Baby teen by zoje stage

10. Dark places by Gillian Flynn

11. Damned by chuck palahnuk

12. Lesser dead by Christopher buehlman

13. 172 hours on the moon by johan harstad

14. Last days by Adam Nevill

15. The silence by johnathan Maberry

16. The road by corkscrew McCarthy

17.blindness by Jose saramago

18. The shinning by Stephen king

19. Misery by Stephen king

20. Pet Sematary by Stephen king

21. Salem’s lot by Stephen king

22. Rosemarys baby by ira levin

23. The exorcist by William blatty

24. The omen by David seltzer

25. Nos4a2 by joe hill

26. The troop by nick cutter

27. Let the right one in by John ajvide lindqvist

Aight this list is more in the catigory of unsettling or lighthearted but with strange elements

1. The witches of New York by ami mckay

2.ruthless by Carolyn Adams

3. Wayward pines series by Blake crouch

4. Dark matter by Blake crouch

5. Handmaids take by margret Atwood

6. Lord of the flies by William Golding

7. Coralline by Neil gaiman

8. The green mile by Stephen king

9. The postmortals by drew magary

10. Warm bodies by Isaac Marion

11. White is for witching by Helen oyeymi

12. Every heart a doorway by seanan McGuire

13. A map for wrecked girls by Jessica Taylor

14. You by Caroline kepnes

15. Berlin syndromes by Melanie joosten

16. John dies at the end by David Wong

17. City of the lost by jelly Armstrong

18. Summer of salt by Katrina Leno

19. Practical magic by Alice Hoffman

20. Nowhere wild by joe beernink

21. Watership down by Richard Adams

22. The girls by Emma cline

23. The strange and beautiful sorrows of Ava lavender by Leslye Walton

24. Violent ends by multiple authors

25. Geek love by Kathrine Dunn

26. Disappearance at devils rock by Paul tremblay

27. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

Happy reading kiddos