#Stone Brewing Co.

[auraeseer]

When your favorite local beer shop decides to liquidate their inventory, and they invite you into the deep recesses of the walk-in fridge, you may find beer over ten years old, like this one. I hope it doesn't kill me . . .

[firkinron]

Beer Noir: Fear.Movie.Lions

What is Beer Noir? Beer Noir presents a film noir-style short story inspired by a specific beer and written just for fun.  … Fear.Movie.Lions Beer Noir: Fear.Movie.Lions – Stone Brewing Co.’s “///Fear.Movie.Lions” Double IPA inspired this episode of Beer Noir. Beer Noir: Fear.Movie.Lions He seduced her to go with him using three simple words – “Fear. Movie. Lions”. The words themselves were…

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 32 “A Worthy Opponent” [Episode List] Dave is back at the warehouse and filming another short “fart porn” clip for Greg. As he keeps blasting Tom, his co-worker and fart sniffer, a masked man steps into the set…

Greatly influenced by this suggestion.

Reminder: Tom was introduced in Episode 14.

POV: Dave

Alright, just like I did last time, it’s all good.

Getting paid to fart in someone’s face? Easiest money I’ll ever make in my life.

My friend Greg, the wannabe movie director, wanted me for another fart porn film.

Yes, that’s an actual thing, this is my life now… a small part of it at least.

You know me, I’m a chill dude, though before accepting such task some months ago I wanted to make sure there were some lines that we shouldn’t cross. To be honest, however, the more I worked with Greg, the more I got used to all of this gross kinky stuff.

I mean, that sounds hypocrite, I’m aware: I’m an incredibly skilled straight farter who continuously face-farts his friend and roommate, fully knowing the he has a fart fetish, and even before that I’ve always been a proud farter, and rightfully so.

Also, I spend too much time on the Internet, so I’m well-versed in gross stuff.

With Tim, however, it’s different.

Here there are cameras, people telling me how I need to fart (seriously!), people I barely know but, truth to be told, who gives a shit? It’s just business, a business that revolves about farting, so you could say that my ass shits gold, almost literally.

Plus, I already got a Tim in my fart-victim collection: a Tom always sounded like the next logical step, the next Infinity Sniffer. You can starting calling me Thanus at this point.

So here I am, back at the warehouse, in this fake living room, wearing a pair of shabby grey sweatpants, cautiously sitting on Tom’s face. 

Tom, my co-worker and professional fart sniffer.

He was lying on this couch in the middle of the set, face up, his nose perfectly aligned with my asscheeks already.

He didn’t say a word or move a muscle: this guy is a pro for real. I still don’t know if he actually has a fart kink or not. What I do know is that I did blast him even when we weren’t working once. 

What can I say? My farts are too good to be wasted!

As of now, I sat on him and adjusted my position, spreading my legs wide, to ease the next fart out and, according to the script, “to showoff my manly bulge”. Thanks, I guess?

I lean just a bit and I effortlessly rip the first fart of the session, a natural blast I’ve been brewing for a couple of minutes. The warm gas passed through the fabric of my sweatpants and soon Tom’s face was imbued with my poisonous flatulence.

“Fuck yeah.” I said, as the loud blast kept going. “Don’t choke on that you fag.”

Hey, I didn’t write the script!

I could feel and hear Tom taking deep whiffs of that fart. I wiggled my ass in response, an improv which he seemed to enjoy, both professionally and… kinkly?

This blast lasted around 6 seconds. A good one don’t get me wrong… but you know what I’m truly capable of…

I noticed Greg from behind the camera giving me a thumbs up, mouthing my next line.

“Alright you filthy slave, you better open up.”

Tom obeyed. I leaned once again and spread my legs even wider, my anus aligning with my co-worker’s mouth.

Another home-run, another loud fart, I didn’t even need to push that much. I’m ridiculously good at this, I swear. It feels stupid to brag about farting skills but trust me, as soon as I finish ripping one of my huge farts, my body is already brewing the next one. I got a quick reload.

Tom’s face was shaking and this time, for real, he almost choked on my gas, as I felt him move. And when even Tom, who’s usually stone-cold while working, flinches, I know I did a good job.

I saw Greg talking to his assistant: he seemed angry. In that moment, behind me, the fake door of the fake living room opened without warning. Was this an unscripted moment?

I stopped farting and turned around, kind of forgetting that I was sitting on Tom’s face.

Someone stepped into the set, another man, around my age, tall and skinny. I couldn’t see his face as he was wearing some kind of black ski mask. His clothes were as casual as mine (a red t-shirt and a pair of blue skinny jeans).

He didn’t look friendly, yet the moment he saw me, he kind of froze on the spot for a few moments.

Is Greg making a farter-slasher movie all of the sudden? Not that I’d complain! Sounds camp-y enough to me.

I gave an inquisitive look to my director-friend, who promptly stopped filming.

“C-cut!” he yelled. “Alright, we got our first farts.” he said, as he walked towards me. “N-now, make room for the other farter of this session.” 

I gave him a puzzled look. “Other farter?”

“Duh!” Greg replied, as he pulled me out of the set, impatiently. “You thought you were the only person capable of ripping ass?”

Honestly, kind of?

I mean, I don’t think about farts 24/7, but I do know that I’m pretty good at it. Ask Tim.

“Are you replacing me?” I bluntly asked.

Not gonna have a fight over… farting, that’s for sure. And I’m not even mad, I was just taking those extra bucks for granted.

“Don’t be jealous.” he replied, as he let me sit next to him, next to the director himself, as if I was one of the crew.

I watched as this masked guy stepped on the couch and squatted over Tom’s head, just as the poor guy was getting used to fresh air again. I guess this is his lucky day, assuming that he does have the kink.

“Action!” I almost went deaf when Greg screamed that.

The masked guy was basically another master and he acted accordingly.

“Here you go, fag. Got something for you to taste…” 

The fart that followed was very loud and echoed in the whole warehouse. On one hand, when I’m not the one torturing a poor soul with farts, yeah, it’s pretty gross. On the other, as a man, I gotta tip my imaginary hat to a fellow talented farter. The blast was nowhere as long as mine, but holy shit.

This other “master” was way more dominant than I was, way more natural I’d say.

“If you wanted a master, you could just ask…” I whispered into Greg's ear, sounding way more flirty than I intended to be, which almost made me laugh.

“You can’t be a master like him.” he firmly replied. “You’re too nice.”

Should I be offended? I really don’t know anything anymore at this point.

“Fire in the hole!” the masked master yelled, just as he ripped another loud fart down Tom’s throat.

I admit this guy’s voice sounded quite familiar, despite his best effort at trying to sound much deeper.

“Do we know this guy?” I asked Greg. The question almost startled him.

“Uhm. No idea.”

Ok, liar ahead. Clearly we know this guy then.

I will get to the bottom of this… after I put this masked guy to his place.

POV: Tom

Fuck. 

Dave’s farts were already impressive, but this masked guy’s blasts are really hard to endure, really pushing the limits of my kink. Those farts sound utterly gross, almost wet, and they smell horribly. I like working with Dave because, among other things, his roaring ass is loud but when it comes to stench, I can easily inhale those.

This guy… I have no idea who he is, Greg refused to introduce us for some reason, but I decided to trust him: I think I made a mistake. The rough surface of his skinny jeans is almost scraping my face.

Another fart erupted right into my nostrils, renewing the already terrible stench. It smells like… spoiled milk? I don’t know, it’s nauseating, I feel like I’m drowning in a sewer. I’m always very calm and composed when I’m… working, but I wasn’t ready for this I admit it.

“You’re such a bitch, I knew you couldn’t handle it.” the man said, ripping another loud, short rip.

If this guy doesn’t get up soon, I’m probably gonna choke in my own puke.

“Alright, that’s enough, get the fuck out of here.”

I heard Dave say, walking towards us, and I was relieved.

The masked man got up, my eyes adjusting to the spotlight shining over the set. I took a deep breathe of (relatively) fresh air, but anything was better than that. 

I managed to recognize Dave’s silhouette, towering over me.

“That was cute. Now let me show how a pro does it.”

Great. I’m basically the city you see in the background of kaijū movies while the monsters fight each other. You know the city, right? The city that usually gets completely leveled by the huge creatures?

I guess that’s my role for today.

Let’s get it over with.

As I said, Dave’s farts are huge but I’d take anything over that other guy’s gas.

I quickly took more deep breaths… before letting Dave sit on me again.

POV: Dave

“That was cute. Now let me show how a pro does it.”

I don’t know who this guy is, but if he really wants to do this, a fuckin’ fart challenge, then he’s gonna get blown away.

Well, not him, rather, my good pal right here on the couch.

“Alright…” I whispered to Tom. “Get ready bro. I’m gonna rip some huge ones and act like an asshole for a bit.”

I earned a puzzled look from him. “An asshole?” he paused for a moment. “But… you’re too nice.”

Oh great, now the sub tells me how lovey-dovey I am, perfect!

I stepped on the couch, not caring how my feet was crushing Tom’s chest, and squatted over his face, my fabric-clad anus tickling the tip of his nose. As I said, I’m always brewing a big one, and having a quick cheeseburger before coming here surely helped.

Once again, effortlessly, my ass started roaring, loud and unstoppable. As I kept pushing this one out, I maintained eye-contact with the mysterious masked challenger, who could only watch haplessly as I showed him what real talent looks like.

“Open wide, fag. This is far from over.”

Tom took it like a champ, inhaling deeply for the camera -I don’t even know if we started filming again. 

All I know is that my farting skills are a sight to behold… and to sniff, in Tom and Tim’s case at least.

Ahah… I’ll never understand this gross kink, but I gotta admit, if I had this fetish, and my best bro and roommate was, well, me, I’d probably be as thirsty as Tim is. So yeah, in a disgusting way… I get it.

And just like that, 12 seconds passed. Long, but not as long as my best ones, I can do even better than this… but I play fair so, after brushing my sweaty sweatpants ass on Tom’s face, I stood up and crossed my arms, eyes glued on my rival. 

“Your move, beanpole.” 

It’s ridiculous how seriously I’m taking all of this, but I can get quite competitive.

The masked master laughed and… lied on the floor. He held one leg up… that’s a position I’m quite familiar with. Surprisingly enough, he started sucking air in, right through his jeans. That’s a great talent I gotta say, I thought I was the only one who could fart on command so easily. 

A worthy opponent, at long last!

After a few seconds, the man stood up, proud and tall and, just like I did earlier, treated Tom as if he was part of the couch, and sat on his face. His eyes glued on me, I could tell there was a smug mile making fun of me under that ski mask.

The fart that followed was quite impressive and loud, but still not as massive as the ones I’m able to produce. This guy was good, no doubts about it. I’m pretty sure Tim would fall in love with him (the thought of that made me visibly laugh, putting a dent in the menacing aura I was trying to convey).

You know what, fuck this. It’s not worth it. 

But since I’m already here, and I’m able to rip huge farts both naturally and on command, I guess I could simply… well… join the fun, you might say.

I’m sure Tom will understand.

POV: Tom

The masked guy’s fart, despite being on command, was as foul as the one before. Dave’s blasts weren’t a cakewalk by any means, and they’re still much louder, deeper and stronger overall, but whatever this guy ate was doing numbers in his stomach. He was wearing a pair of skinny jeans but he could very well be naked for how much my nostrils were burning. 

The stench of Dave’s previous farts mixed with the rotten eggs-flavored gas this guy’s anus was blowing in my face and, truly, I started to think that this was a big test that Greg set up just for me, for some insane reason. If I survive this, I’m gonna kick his ass.

After around 9 seconds, the flatulence’s loudness faded out, essentially turning into a classic silent-but-deadly.

The man raised his ass just a bit, to make sure I could breath a bit of fresh air before the next one.

I turned my head and I could see Dave approaching the couch again.

Okay, it’s the other kaijū’s turn I assume.

Funnily enough, this is actually good ne-

...

Wait.

Why isn’t the other guy stepping aside?

“If it’s a show you want, Greg, a show you’ll get.” Dave boasted.

The farter above me finally moved, but just a bit, his ass still covering half of my face, hovering over my mouth.

The reason he moved, however, wasn’t altruistic by any means: instead, he had to make room for Dave’s ass, which ended up being planted directly onto my eyes instead.

Just... just fuckin’ do it you gassy bastards.

“Hey fag, it’s your lucky day.” the masked guy said.

“Good thing you have two nostrils: one of each anus.” Dave said.

Whether they were improvising or not wasn’t important, because their asses certainly weren’t.

Dave’s ass started speaking first, erupting his deep warm gas into my eyes. Mere seconds later, the other ass started talking as well, its fart being more high pitched. The sounds mixed together like a symphony and after a few moments I couldn’t tell which anus was being louder, ‘cause they both were. 

I became part of the couch as those two asses kept crushing me, farting loudly. My face couldn’t endure that barrage of farts any longer, as the farters kept cycling between either loud series of farts, or single long ones. The stench... I felt like they were taking a shit on me, I could taste that thick gas and even guess what they ate for lunch.

It was getting hot, too hot, and I started breathing more heavily, which only meant I got to ingest more of that poisonous gas. 

And yet, my massive boner betrayed my disgust.

While my eardrums were getting crushed by those farts, I could still manage to recognize Dave’s fart being the loudest: the man found a worthy opponent, sure, but he still owns the crown, no doubts about it.

“And for the big finale…” I heard the King say.

Dave lowered his sweatpants, exposing his sweaty bare ass (the masked farter kept his jeans on instead), and ripped a short, yet very loud toot, drops of sweat being blown onto my face and teary eyes (for the smell).

The two remained there for a few seconds, finally in silence from both ends, letting me inhale those last particles of gas, even though I’m pretty sure my skin merged with their farts on sub-atomic level, then they finally got up and shared a high-five.

Much to my surprise, the two men then turned back to me and helped me sit down, and they both high-fived me as well.

I guess a fart master is nothing without someone willing to sniff it all.

I appreciate the respect.

The mutual respect.

POV: Dave

After taking a much-needed shower and putting my civilian clothes back on (my usual dark brown hoodie and a pair of loose jeans), I cleared things up with Greg. 

He admitted he messed up things up with the schedule, and that indeed there was another “master” audition today, but he really enjoyed our improv and filmed everything, and thus the editors are pretty satisfied with what we managed to film today.

He also told me that, indeed, the mysterious farter is “a common friend” who didn’t want to be recognized.

No hard feelings with Tom either, obviously.

Now, time to tie up one last loose end.

I went outside, on the back of the warehouse, where I knew I could find my masked rival. He was checking his phone sitting on a shabby couch, an old prop that the crew moved here after they bought a new one for the set.

Basically, glorified comfy garbage.

“Hey, fire-in-the-hole-guy! I knew I’d find you here… that’s there they put the trash after all.” I said, with a smug smile.

The man shook his head and laughed. “Greg told you?” he asked.

I walked towards the couch and sat next to him, wrapping my right arm around his shoulder.

“You thought I woudn’t recognize your beautiful eyes, Adam?” I joked, acting all flirty (and hopefully annoying).

He  punched my shoulder and took his mask off.

Indeed, it was Adam all along.

He laughed a bit more.

“I didn’t know you were working with Greg.” he said. “Finally, you can make money from the one thing you're good at!"

“Very good at.” I corrected him.

I was going to fart to prove my point, but Adam seemed worried about something.

“I kind of needed those extra bucks you know...”

“Why is everything gravitating towards farts lately…” I thought out loud.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Nothing, forget about it.” I quickly said. “Extra bucks you said?”

“Yeah, as gross as it sounds, I thought I could make some quick money out of… whatever Greg’s doing here.”

“Hey, not judging bro!” I reassured him. “I mean, I’ve been doing this for a couple of months.”

“Does Dana know?” he asked.

“Nah, I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Tim, he’d probably be jeal-“ 

I bit my tongue just in time, even though I didn’t really think he’d get jealous. I was just trying to make a joke I swear!

“Jealous?” my friend inquired. “Jealous of what?”

“…Uhh… jealous of my success, obviously!”

Adam didn’t seem too interested in the conversation anyway, luckily enough, so he didn’t find anything suspicious about my not-so-harmless joke about my roommate.

“That’s envy, not jealousy, you idiot.” he observed.

Never mind.

A few dozens of seconds of silence followed. Adam wasn’t exactly a talkative guy, and he does have a job and all, but if he needs extra bucks, maybe I could help.

“I’m sure we can arrange something with Greg.” I stated.

“Mh?” 

“Yeah, you can fart on Tom on Tuesdays, while I can do it on Wednesdays.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this.” Adam admitted.

“Yeah.” I patted his shoulder. “From great farts, come great responsibility.”

We remained there, on that smelly (not because of us) couch, for a few more minutes, as if all that fart-talk was the most mundane thing in the world.

“Doing something tonight?” Adam asked.

“Dana and Tim are out of town, so probably nothing. You?”

“There’s a good pub a few blocks from here. Care for a beer?”

“Always.” I simply said, as we both stood up, and started marching towards our new destination.

“Easy bro.” Adam said. “I’m not gonna drag your drunk ass back home.”

“I can handle way more beer than you, pal!” I said.

“Yeah, in your dreams maybe.” he replied.

“Alright. Ready to lose against me for the second time today?” I threatened him.

“Lose?” he scoffed. “It was literally just far-“ 

I cut him off by ripping a huge, natural blast, staring at him with a smug grin. The fart easily echoed in the alley and I’m pretty sure they heard it downtown. It was short and sweet, you might say.

4 loud, proud seconds.

“I’m sorry.” I said. “You were saying?”

Adam laughed in response. “Fine, you won whatever that was back in the warehouse.” he admitted. “But I’m still not gonna drag your sorry drunk ass back home later.”

You know me, I’m a chill guy, but if you tease me, I can get very competitive.

I again wrapped my arm around his shoulder: “If it’s a show you want, Adam, a show you’ll get.”

Nah… maybe I’m too nice.

The End

[severus-snaps]

Snape and Poison

I got distracted whilst writing a different meta so just thought I'd list every time I've come across that Snape was associated with poison in the series.

I first started thinking about all of this because Lucius was trying to get rid of poison in Borgin & Burkes at the beginning of CoS:

“ — and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear — ” “I understand, sir, of course,” said Mr. Borgin. “Let me see …”

...and I liked the idea that Snape was originally the one to brew it. Although unlikely, I also enjoy the idea that Snape had a hand in both the poison Draco attempted to use to kill Dumbledore, and Voldemort's emerald potion which ultimately did kill Dumbledore - because how sad if, no matter what he did, Snape was always the one destined to end Dumbledore's life?

It's obvious that Snape is most closely associated with potions in the books, but Snape is also the most consistently associated character with poison (with the notable exception perhaps being Slughorn - but even then it's shown that Harry is mostly learning from the Prince):

Philosopher's Stone Snape's introductory lesson outlines how a bezoar will save you from most poisons; he brews poisons for the PS riddle; his introductory speech includes how to "stopper death":

Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar? ... For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death

From WebMD: Aconite contains a strong, fast-acting poison that causes severe side effects such as nausea, vomiting, breathing problems, heart problems, and death.

Snape's riddle/poem:

Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line. Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore, To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: First, however slyly the poison tries to hide You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side

Chamber of Secrets Snape looks as though anyone who approached him about a love potion would be force-fed poison in CoS:

“My friendly, card-carrying cupids!” beamed Lockhart. “They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn’t stop here! I’m sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you’re at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I’ve ever met, the sly old dog!” Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

Prisoner of Azkaban The trio think Snape is trying to poison Lupin in PoA; Snape sets an essay on undetectable poisons; Snape warns that potions brewed incorrectly can turn to poisons (revisited when the Trio visit Arthur in hospital in OotP post-Nagini, and a sign reads: "A clean cauldron keeps potions from becoming poisons."), and threatens to 'poison' Trevor.

Harry looked curiously at the goblet ... Professor Lupin took another sip and Harry had a crazy urge to knock the goblet out of his hands. “Professor Snape’s very interested in the Dark Arts,” he blurted out. “Some people reckon — ” Harry hesitated, then plunged recklessly on, “some people reckon he’d do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.” “But if he — you know” — Hermione dropped her voice, glancing nervously around — “if he was trying to — to poison Lupin — he wouldn’t have done it in front of Harry.” Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. “Everyone gather ’round,” said Snape, his black eyes glittering, “and watch what happens to Longbottom’s toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don’t doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned.”

Goblet of Fire Snape implies he'll poison someone, and Harry absolutely thinks that Snape wants to poison him in GoF; Moody says Dark wizards can poison an unattended cup, and regularly checks his food for poison (wouldn't do him any good if they were undetectable however); Snape later threatens to practically do the same thing to Harry that Moody is trying to avoid by only drinking from a flask, and slip something into Harry's drink [only with Veritaserum this time, not poison] when he thinks Harry has broken into his potions supplies again

“Brilliant!” said Harry. “It’s Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won’t have time to poison us all!” “Antidotes!” said Snape, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. “You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one. …” Snape’s eyes met Harry’s, and Harry knew what was coming. Snape was going to poison him. Moody had told them all during their last Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson that he preferred to prepare his own food and drink at all times, as it was so easy for Dark wizards to poison an unattended cup. [“It is Veritaserum — a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear,” said Snape viciously. “Now, the use of this potion is controlled by very strict Ministry guidelines. But unless you watch your step, you might just find that my hand slips” — he shook the crystal bottle slightly — “right over your evening pumpkin juice. And then, Potter … then we’ll find out whether you’ve been in my office or not.” - interesting also because Moody had also been in Snape's office] Professors McGonagall and Moody kept them working until the very last second of their classes too, and Snape, of course, would no sooner let them play games in class than adopt Harry. Staring nastily around at them all, he informed them that he would be testing them on poison antidotes during the last lesson of the term. He found it hard to concentrate on Snape’s Potions test, and consequently forgot to add the key ingredient — a bezoar — meaning that he received bottom marks... Snape handed Dumbledore a small glass bottle of completely clear liquid: the Veritaserum with which he had threatened Harry in class.

Order of the Phoenix Ron says "Poisonous toadstools don’t change their spots" when discussing Snape, his general personality, and whether Snape ever truly stopped working for Voldemort (echoes leopards never change their spots/Moody's "spots that don't come off" in GoF); Snape discusses the use of Veritaserum, poison, and venom on Harry with Umbridge, and expresses his 'sympathy' (read: apparent desire) to use poison on Harry; when advising Harry to continue Potions during his careers discussion, McGonagall said that poisons and antidotes were essential study for Aurors, and that Snape would not accept students below an Outstanding

“I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!” “I have already told you,” said Snape smoothly, “that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter — and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did — I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling…” “...Then you ought to do Charms, always useful, and Potions. Yes, Potter, Potions,” she added, with the merest flicker of a smile. “Poisons and antidotes are essential study for Aurors. And I must tell you that Professor Snape absolutely refuses to take students who get anything other than ‘Outstanding’ in their O.W.L.s, so — ”

Half-Blood Prince The Prince inherently understood Golpalott’s Third Law on antidotes to poisons, and then the plot revisits the bezoar from PS both as a means of helping Harry in class but also to save Ron.

“You sure the Prince hasn’t got any tips?” Ron muttered to Harry. Harry pulled out his trusty copy of Advanced Potion-Making and turned to the chapter on antidotes. There was Golpalott’s Third Law, stated word for word as Hermione had recited it, but not a single illuminating note in the Prince’s hand to explain what it meant. Apparently the Prince, like Hermione, had had no difficulty understanding it. And there it was, scrawled right across a long list of antidotes: Just shove a bezoar down their throats. Harry stared at these words for a moment. Hadn’t he once, long ago, heard of bezoars? Hadn’t Snape mentioned them in their first-ever Potions lesson? “A stone taken from the stomach of a goat, which will protect from most poisons.” It was not an answer to the Golpalott problem, and had Snape still been their teacher, Harry would not have dared do it... He hurtled back to Ron’s side, wrenched open his jaw, and thrust the bezoar into his mouth.

Not rooted in reality at all but a theory I once came across that I cradle like a fascinating little animal that I just can't stop looking at, is that Snape and Dumbledore somehow switch bodies before 'Dumbledore' takes Harry to the cave, and then switch back in time for Dumbledore to actually die at Snape's hand.

And, of course, the (separate but works here too) theory that back as a 'real' Death Eater, Snape helped Voldemort with the emerald potion that was already killing Dumbledore when Snape finished the job.

Deathly Hallows More tenuously, Aberforth asks "where will you lot traffick potions and poisons when my pub’s closed down", and it was the Hog's Head where Snape was lurking when he overheard the prophecy - whether that was as part of his role as spy/he was applying for a job like Trelawney said, or because he was an opportunist with a sideline in poisons - I enjoy both ideas).

Not just poison: Snape and venom

The series also mixes up (or at least uses interchangeably at times) venom and poison; although to a lesser extent associated with venom, Snape does have his moments where he is associated with venom - ultimately, of course, his final moments are spent under the influence of Nagini's.

Snape is described as shooting Harry (and Ron) "a look of pure venom" in CoS; he sets an essay on antivenoms in OotP; "Harry’s anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom" during Occlumency lessons in OotP; "The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling" says Snape, two books before attempting to find a way to tell the truth no matter how fast-acting Nagini's venom is; when Harry sees Arthur dying of Nagini's bite, it is Snape who has to teach Harry Occlumency to prevent such a thing from happening again, and Snape who ultimately dies of the same attack - but he does not, due to timing (mid-Battle and all) or ill will receive the same rush from the entire Order to attempt to save him, and despite all of his knowledge of poisons and venoms and antidotes, also does not save himself - despite Slughorn being described as carrying around antidotes to things like Veritaserum on the off chance that Dumbledore tries to get a memory out of him, so carrying antidotes for a well-prepared and cunning Slytherin of a certain level of skill is not unheard of, or impossible.

[primrosechronicles]

Web of Love: The Barista and Spider-Punk

A Hobie Brown x Barista!gender neutral!reader

Summary: Based on his friends recommendation, he decided to visit this charming cafe, little did he realize that his life was about to take a turn for the better Warnings: None Word count: 1546

At 7 am on a Sunday, the vibrant orange hue of the rising sun reflects off the silver jewelry owned by Hobie Brown. His flashy outfit and confident strides cause the crowd of spectators to talk about him in hushed tones. He pays them no mind as his only goal for this morning is to get some coffee.

He remembers his bandmate recommending this Family-owned cafe; Riri said it was “the best cafe she ‘ad ever been to!” She also mentioned the atmosphere, the dessert, and especially the… beautiful barista that serves most of the drinks there.

He stops outside of the cafe, making sure it was the right place. “Sunrise Brews & Bites..” he read aloud; Yep, this was the place. Hobie enters the family-owned cafe, the delightful aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air. The place has a cozy ambiance, with soft background music playing, and the chatter of customers creates a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

He walks up to the counter, eyeing the menu and desserts.

“Good Morning! Do you see anything you fancy?”

Upon glancing up, he is taken aback. Holy shit… He sees the most gorgeous barista he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. 

“Mornin' love, um.. Wot do you recommend uh..” He looks at your name tag “y/n?” 

You blushed at the nickname “Oh you're a newcomer? Well! I recommend the espresso, it has hints of stone fruits, cocoa, savory flavors, and more!” 

“Then I'll ‘ave that then.” He smiled, finding you to be as charming as his friend had described.

You smiled in return then went to work making his drink. As Hobie finds a cozy corner table to wait for his mocha, he takes a moment to observe the cafe's ambiance. He isnt used to the soft decor of the cafe, he is more used to the loud, edgy, and gritty pub that he and his mates often go to.  

A few minutes later, you approach his table with a warm smile, holding a beautifully crafted mocha in your hand. "Here's your espresso, enjoy!" you say happily, placing the cup in front of him. 

He admires the drink and notices… the huge heart in the middle of the drink; he winks at you “Thank you love.” He pulls out money from his pocket “No, no, no! There's no need! It’s.. on the house.” You beamed at him. Confused, he looks at you up and down “ You sure?” “Yes, I'm positive! Riri mentioned that she recommended this place to one of her bandmates, that is you right?” He nodded. “I… wanted to give you the best experience possible! So… it's on the house.” “Thanks luv, I appreciate it” He cheered in response. How could he say no to a free drink?

That was a month ago; and after interacting with you for a somewhat… long period of time, His feelings growing stronger and stronger the more he enters the cafe and talks with you. And today is the day he asks you out!

Attempt #1

He arrives at the cafe, he stops outside the cafe and rehearses what he's gonna say for like; the hundredth time. He grips the bouquet in his hands and steps forward and opens the front door. The familiar jingle of the overhead bell greets him, and the delightful aroma of coffee and desserts fills his nostrils. He takes a discreet breath through his teeth, feeling the excitement building inside. It's showtime– 

“Ah! Sorry! y/n is sick today, so i'm covering their shift” Your co-worker says, noticing the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Well fuck.

Attempt #2

He returns to the cafe a few days later, determined to ask you out. This time, he practices what he'll say in front of a mirror at home, hoping to gain more confidence. As he approaches the cafe, he takes a deep breath and enters. The familiar jingle of the bell welcomes him, and he sees you behind the counter. 

With his heart pounding loudly, he pushes himself to make his move. But just as he's about to approach you, a rush of customers flood in, keeping you busy and leaving him no opportunity to strike up a conversation. He waits patiently for a chance to talk, but time slips away and causes him to be late for his band practice, and he eventually decides to leave without having spoken to you.

Attempt #3

The next day, I mean.. Third time the charm right? This time, he's prepared a little note in advance with his phone number, planning to leave it discreetly for you to find. He enters the cafe, with the note hidden in his pocket, nerves getting the better of him.

As he stands in line, waiting for his turn to order, he notices that you seem to be engrossed in a conversation with another customer. Feeling intimidated, he decides to wait for a more opportune moment. However, as the minutes pass, he becomes more and more anxious, and when it's finally his turn to order, he forgets all about the note in his pocket and just hastily places his order.

As he leaves the cafe, $2.75 short and no date with his barista; he berates himself for not having the balls to seize the moment 

Riri; his bandmate, notices his persistent efforts to ask you out. She decides to lend a helping hand and come up with a plan of their own. Riri comes to the cafe and strikes up a conversation with you, catching up since it's been a while since she's been in your shop subtly dropping hints about their upcoming band performance.

"Oh, by the way," Riri says,"We got a gig comin' up this Friday at the live house! The one I told ya about in Rose street? It's gonna be a proper blinder of a show with some top-notch music. You should totally come and check it out!"

You smile and show genuine interest, "That sounds like fun! I'll try to make it if I can."

Friday night arrives, and the band is giving an electrifying performance at the venue. The atmosphere is charged with excitement, and the crowd is having a blast. Hobie is playing like a pro, his fingers smooth like butter on his guitar.

Midway through their set, Riri takes the mic, "'Ey, everyone, we got a right special person 'ere tonight. Our guitarist Hobie 'as been tryin' to gather the bleedin' courage to do somethin', and I think it's time to give 'im a little push… Hobie, why don'tcha take the mic for a sec?"

The spotlight shifts to Hobie as he walks to the mic in the center, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. He takes a deep breath and walks up to the stage, where you now stand face to face.

With Riri playing a romantic tune with her bass in the background, Hobie looks into your eyes and says, "I've been comin' to the cafe for a while now, and every time I see ya, or talk to ya.. my 'eart skips a beat. I'd really like to get to know ya better. So, I'm just gonna take a chance and ask ya, would ya like to go out with me?"

You're taken aback, but a smile spreads across your face, "Hobie, I'd love to."

Hobie leans down from the stage and you both exchange contact information, The crowd cheers as he gives you a sweet peck on the forehead and Hobie can't help but feel relieved and overjoyed. “Meet me backstage!” he yelled on the mic “I will!” you yelled back.

"Evening, love," Hobie says with a warm smile, his accent giving his words a charming twist. "Glad you could make it to the show. Thanks for comin'!"

“You guys killed it up there!” you cheered “the energy was flowing right through me!”

Hobie grins wider, his eyes locking with yours as he leans in a bit closer. "Been wantin' to do this all night, I 'ave," he whispers softly, that charm making your heart flutter, before leaning in to give you a gentle kiss.

Your heart does a dance in your chest as his lips meet yours, and you feel an instant connection, like two jigsaw pieces fitting perfectly together. It's a sweet, tender moment that seals the beginning of something special between you and Hobie.

Your love for coffee takes on a new dimension, becoming intertwined with the fond memories of shared laughter, tender moments, and deep conversations at that special place. Your co-workers at the cafe witness your love story blooming.

As your relationship grows, you discover that just like a well-brewed coffee, your love is rich, fulfilling, and offers a perfect balance of sweetness and depth. With every cup of coffee you and Hobie share, your connection deepens, and you find comfort in knowing that no matter how busy life gets, you can always find a moment of bliss in each other's company.

a/n: i had such a hard time writing the accents... ty for my bestie who proofread everything ;33

[periwinkle-musings]

Did Taylor Swift write "Sweet Nothing" about Paul McCartney and his wife's summer in Wicklow in 1971?

The song "Sweet Nothing" on Taylor Swift's Midnights has always stood out to me as a bit of an anomaly. Until this intriguing quote by Paul McCartney caught my eye:

In a 2001 ABC interview about his wife Linda, who passed away in 1998, Paul McCartney said:

"I would go out for a run, think of some words, get home from the run, write them down, and make a cup a tea for Linda," said McCartney, who would bring it to her for breakfast. "I'd make a little tray, and go up, and then I'd say, 'Hey, by the way, do you want to hear some poetry?' She'd always … she'd say, 'Yeah.' And so I wrote that poem." 'Blessed.' I would come back from a run. With lines of poetry to tell. And having listened, she would say "What a mind."

This is a direct quote and exact same storyline as in "Sweet Nothing." There is NO WAY that is a coincidence. So I wanted to see if Paul and Linda had any connection to Wicklow - the place mentioned in the song. 

I think the McCartney family vacationed at the Luggala Estate in Co. Wicklow, Ireland in the summer of 1971 as an escape from the aftermath of the Beatles breakup.

A sweet Wicklow love story:

Paul McCartney has connections to Luggala going back to 1965-1966 when he partied at the estate with Guinness Brewing heir Tara Browne who was killed in a car accident a few months after his raucous 21st birthday, and inspired the Beatles song "A Day in the Life." Paul was close to Tara and his death deeply impacted him. This Rolling Stone article details their relationship and mentions that Paul has visited Luggala to visit Tara's gravesite since then on "numerous occasions." Paul had not met his wife Linda yet while Tara was alive, but this proves Paul's deep and personal ties to the family and their 5,000 acre private estate in the Wicklow Mountains, which continued to be a private retreat for celebrity guests until it was sold in 2019.

Paul McCartney has posted multiple family photos taken by his wife in the summer of 1971 that appear to be taken near the Luggala Estate in Co. Wicklow. He tweeted this photo on St. Patricks day in 2017 which a previous Reddit thread links to Wicklow in 1971. And recently on March 2022 he tweeted this photo which appears to be taken the same day judging by his shirt and his dog, and credits the photo as being taken by his wife (she was a professional photographer) in Ireland in 1971. Here you have a better view of the surrounding mountains and rocky streams (full of pebbles I'd imagine...) It's notable that the second photo was posted March 2022 around the time when Taylor would be writing and recording the Midnights album.

If you look at the aerial view of Luggala Estate (Now showing on Google Maps as Luggala Lodge), I believe that these photos were taken in one of the rocky streams that feed into the private lake...which is named Lough Tay. (I like to think it's an extra little wink from Taylor that this investigation literally led me to a lake named Lough Tay.)

This area is completely private and the closest public access is from a hiking overlook. This seems like a great place for one of the most famous musicians in the world to hide out with his two young children, 2 dogs, and Linda, who would have been pregnant with Stella McCartney (born Sept 13, 1971).

We know that the family and their dogs were in Ireland in the summer of 1971 from this newspaper article where they were photographed at an airport in August leaving Ireland, which means it's possible that they were in Wicklow a few weeks earlier in July.

Even though The Beatles broke up in 1969, it continued to be messy between members of the band and the financials involved for the next few years. During the summer of 1971 Paul McCartney and John Lennon were embroiled in a very public fight. There were lawsuits and scathing letters (dated 1971) and it's all very complicated so I won't go into it here, but this article has a good overview.

The lyric, "Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors and smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other" could reference these incidents. I could see Taylor relating to Paul going through this public turmoil surrounding business with former friends, because it is similar to what she's going through with her masters.

The lyric "You're in the kitchen humming" could reference Linda's passion for cooking and vegetarian activism. She literally founded a food company and wrote a cookbook. This darling photo on her website shows her cooking at the family home in Scotland in the 1970s. Linda was also a singer and recorded many songs with Paul, so the idea that she could be "humming" makes sense.

Taylor Swift has been friends with the McCartney family for a while. She first met Paul in 2010. She collaborated with Stella McCartney in 2019 for a clothing line as part of the Lover era, and Stella also dressed her for the Evermore album cover in 2020.

Taylor and Paul McCartney famously interviewed each other for Rolling Stone's "Musicians on Musicians" in 2020. In this article they mention how they both like writing under pseudonyms.

But the most surprising thing I learned is that Paul actually wrote a song dedicated to Taylor and her relationship with her fans called "Who Cares."

Notably, the music video also features Taylor's longtime friend Emma Stone wearing rainbow makeup in an otherwise black-and-white world full of cartoonish bullies. It's notable that the music video was released Dec 2018, right before the Lover era would kick off a few months later. Perhaps Paul was showing a bit of preemptive support for Taylor as she embarked on what many of us believe was intended to be her coming out era?

Now to the William Bowery of it all:

Taylor clearly wants us to think Sweet Nothing is about Joe because of the Wicklow name drop, where Joe was papped in July 2021, which looks staged to me.

Interestingly, I can't find any photos of Taylor being seen anywhere near Wicklow, but for some reason she staged a whole photoshoot in Northern Ireland in July, where locals said she "arrived and left by helicopter in a fleeting visit."

She was also seen in several different locations in Belfast in fan photos. This article also says part of Red TV was recorded in Belfast.

Clearly she wanted to be seen and linked to Northern Ireland, and the lyric easily could have been "Does it ever miss Belfast sometimes?" (same number of syllables) but it's not.

"Sweet Nothing" does have a William Bowery co-writing credit. Would Sir Paul McCartney agree to a secret writing credit? Maybe.

I read an interesting twitter thread from a lawyer (who is a Gaylor) that discusses how William Bowery could be a name under which Taylor commissions writing "for hire." Meaning it could be Joe or multiple other people writing under that pseudonym, as opposed to the "Willam Bowery" (spelled different) which is listed as a U.S. Citizen.

Even if Paul wasn't involved in writing the song, I believe he inspired "Sweet Nothing."

---

Note: This theory was originally posted on the R/GaylorSwift subreddit Dec 22, 2022 which is currently set to private. I am the original author of the Reddit post (u/-periwinkle), and am reblogging it on my Tumblr because this theory has been gaining traction and I wanted to create a public version. This version has been slightly expanded and updated with better images. Also, I was not the first person to uncover the "what a mind" quote, and the original person who found it is tagged on Reddit.

[rock-and-stone-dinnerbone]

Hello fellow miners 👋

Management told me to get a social media account after I tossed all the barrels into the launch bay for the fifth time this week. Something about redirecting my energy elsewhere.

This me btw:

I like rocks, stones, a cold brew with the guys, my pet mactera and the BRT7 Burst Fire Gun (cos it makes my brain go brrrt). I also like to take snapshots on my missions for DRG, so look forward to that.

Rock and Stone brothers!

[mellyssageversee]

Noble Hearts - Chapter 9

ZoSan Royal AU - AO3 link

Summary: The threat of famine looms over the Kuraigana Kingdom as resources dwindle. Suspicion grips the royal Mihawk family when the prosperous Germa Kingdom offers aid by means of a transactional alliance. As tensions rise, the unforeseen connection between two princes may decide the fate of their kingdoms.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get Zoro’s broken expression out of his mind. The deep despair that had taken root within his son haunted him relentlessly.

Mihawk strode through the Germa castle, the early morning sun barely starting to rise. Sleep had evaded him the entire night, worry whispering to him, caressing the back of his mind as he thought of the mess they were now entangled in. 

The castle’s cold stone corridors chilled him, each step echoing in the silence, amplifying his thoughts.  He paused by a window, letting the early morning rays warm his skin, seeking some semblance of comfort.

Mihawk was no fool. He could easily see how enamored his son had become with Sanji. At first, this pleased him. After all, Sanji had made a good impression on him compared to the rest of the Vinsmoke household. Sanji was the only one who displayed honesty and genuine care for others. Even at the banquet, Mihawk had witnessed Sanji being the only Vinsmoke son to accept Perona’s attempts at friendship. It was a gesture that Judge had not bothered to hide his disapproval of when he saw them together on the dance floor. The sour expression on the King’s face had not sat well with Mihawk in the slightest.

Mihawk had witnessed many other things during his stay that did not sit well with him. 

Judge had been pushy, constantly pressing for an alliance that would place Mihawk’s army under his own command. Although Mihawk sensed dark intentions behind Judge’s eagerness, the specifics eluded him. One thing was clear… the man’s insatiable lust for power deeply disturbed him. Dealing with Judge had been a more cumbersome task than he had anticipated, but he was willing to bear through it for his people, for his children.

Then things took a turn.

Mihawk had always prided himself on his cool-headedness, his ability to remain unflustered and composed. He was slow to anger, often letting logic guide his actions. However, the moment Judge stepped towards Zoro with ill intent gleaming in his eyes, a fierce, protective anger surged through him, breaking his composed facade. It was then that Mihawk knew the alliance could not take place. He could not associate with a man so cruel towards others.

Zoro’s recounting of Judge’s abuse had further fueled Mihawk's anger. The man’s callous actions against not only his people but his own children, with Sanji bearing the brunt of it, were unforgivable. Mihawk shared Zoro’s concern for Sanji, but how could he intervene without causing animosity between their kingdoms? He wanted to help, but he needed more answers. He needed a solution that wouldn’t entail sending his people to war.

The soft ocean breeze filtered in through the open window, the cold wind prompting Mihawk to pull his cloak tighter around him. His golden eyes scanned the vast expanse of the Germa kingdom. The sky was painted with soft pinks and oranges. It seemed like such a deceptive calm compared to the storm brewing within the castle walls. 

Mihawk pushed himself away from the window. He wished Shanks were here. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he missed the man dearly. He longed for Shanks’s counsel, his steadying influence in these uncertain times, but most of all, he missed his infectious laughter and the comfort of his presence.

But Mihawk’s resolve remained strong, determined to do what needed to be done. He knew he had to act, for Zoro and Sanji’s sake, for the sake of his people. His footsteps echoed through the silent halls as he made his way through the castle, his mind set on his goal.

The King finally stopped his solitary walk in front of a door, staring at it intently. He couldn’t explain why his stomach was twisted in knots, but he knew he had to do this. He knocked on the door but was met with silence. He waited a few more moments before knocking again, his heart aching with worry. Part of him wondered if it was too early in the day for this. Perhaps he needed to come back later…

Zoro’s sad expression flashed through his mind again. The heartbreak and the quiet plea for help hidden in his eyes.  

With more determination, and perhaps a bit more force than necessary, Mihawk pounded on the door again. The sound reverberated through the hall. At this, the door swung open abruptly.

“Can I help you?!” 

Mihawk stared at the tall, broad-shouldered man before him, taking in the defensive stance and irritated expression.

“This is the quarters where the cooks sleep, is it not?” Mihawk asked.

“Yes, but we won’t be starting to cook breakfast for another hour.” The man replied snippily.

Mihawk raised a brow at the man's impertinence, his eyes narrowing slightly. 

“May I come in? I am here to speak to someone about a private matter.” Mihawk said sternly.

The man nervously eyed Mihawk’s blade.

“I don’t think that would be-”

“Patty let him in.” A gruff older voice called from inside, cutting off the man's protest.

At the request of the voice inside, Patty hesitantly opened the door wider to let Mihawk step inside. 

The cook’s quarters was a very simple arrangement. Beds lined the walls, separated by flimsy partitions that did little to provide privacy. The room was cramped, with about a dozen people forced to share the same living quarters. Mihawk's eyes took in the threadbare blankets and the makeshift personal items tucked under the beds. He noted the worn and weary faces of the cooks who had been rudely awakened by his arrival. Their eyes were heavy with exhaustion, and their postures sagging from the hard labor they endured daily. These were the people who toiled tirelessly to prepare meals for the Vinsmoke family and the rest of the castle, yet Judge didn’t even provide them with decent living quarters.

Mihawk’s gaze settled on the source of the gruff voice, an older man with a stern look about him, standing by one of the beds. The man's eyes met Mihawk's with a steady gaze, unafraid yet respectful.

“I take it you’re Mihawk?” he asked, his tone softer but still wary.

“I am.” Mihawk stepped forward. “Are you Zeff?”

The older man nodded, gesturing with a wave of his hand to a corner of the room where a makeshift table and chairs had been set up. 

“We can talk over there.” Zeff said, moving to lead Mihawk to the more secluded spot.

Mihawk followed Zeff to the table, the clunk of Zeff’s peg leg echoing off the stone walls like a somber drumbeat.

Although his eyes stared straight ahead, Mihawk could sense the many eyes on them, watching them with great curiosity. He felt exposed and vulnerable, a sensation he rarely experienced and disliked intensely. This cramped, communal living space didn’t seem like the best place to hide.

“I was surprised when Perona told me that you had chosen to hide here.” Mihawk mused as he settled into a seat at the table. “You weren’t nervous of Judge finding you in his own castle?” 

Zeff shook his head as he pulled out a chair for himself. The wooden legs scraped against the stone floor with a grating sound that set Mihawk’s teeth on edge.

“You know what they say.” Zeff grumbled, lowering himself into the seat. “Keep your friends close-“

“Keep your enemies closer.”  Mihawk finished for the older man, his brows knitting together. The thought had crossed his mind when Judge first proposed the alliance. Now, he questioned the wisdom behind that saying. “You can trust the people here to keep your whereabouts a secret?”

Zeff glared at Mihawk’s question.

“These folks are loyal. They all care about me and Sanji and know what’s at stake.” Zeff stated firmly. “They’ll keep my presence a secret.”

Mihawk’s gaze swept across the room again. They all bore the same worried looks, each one silently questioning whether Mihawk was truly an ally or another adversary.

As Mihawk looked back at Zeff, he took notice of the deep lines engraved on his face. Before him, Mihawk saw a man who had faced immense hardships yet remained unbroken, determined to protect those he cared about to the point of boldly choosing to hide in plain sight of the enemy. Even as his own frustration grew over the unfairness of this situation, Mihawk felt a deep respect for the man. 

This respect, however, did not ease his concern.

Mihawk leaned in close, his voice dropping low.

“We will be preparing to leave tomorrow.” Mihawk informed the other. “We can work out a way to smuggle you into Kuraigana, where I can grant you sanctuary.”

Zeff’s glare intensified, his arms crossing over his chest, jaw set in a determined line. 

“I won’t leave Sanji.” Zeff replied determindly.

“We are still working on how to help him,” Mihawk said, trying to soothe the older man. “But his recent engagement has made things a bit more complicated.”

Zeff’s face darkened. Mihawk took notice of how the old man’s lip curled into a sneer.

“Complicated or not, I won’t abandon him.” Zeff growled. “He’d be in more trouble with that Duchess than he is with Judge.”

Mihawk leaned back, blinking in surprise. News of Sanji’s engagement to a Charlotte must have traveled fast for Zeff to know already, and the suggestion that Duchess Linlin was crueler than Judge piqued his curiosity.

“What makes you say that?” Mihawk questioned.

“Everyone in Germa knows that woman is sadistic. She doesn’t even care for her own children.” Zeff explained. “She trades them off for land or deals, and anyone who marries into the Charlotte family is rarely heard from again.”

Mihawk scrunched his nose in distaste, feeling a surge of anger and hurt on Sanji’s behalf.  Arranged marriages, a common practice among royals, had always irked him. He remembered his early years as King when his council tried to push such a fate on him. Mihawk had fought against their demands, vowing that as long as he was King, he would never marry. It was a lonely vow at times, but he was determined to see it through, not for his own sake, but to pave the way for Zoro and Perona to have the freedom to love whoever they chose.

Despite his stance, an arranged marriage had still found a way to interfere in his son’s love life…

Mihawk shook the thought out of his head. His role as a leader often meant dealing with difficult situations, but now, with Zoro involved, this was becoming deeply personal.

“What do you mean they aren’t heard from?” Mihawk asked, tilting his head in confusion. “If she is arranging these marriages for beneficial reasons, then aren’t these other nobles? Wouldn’t their families make a fuss if they are denied contact?”

Zeff’s expression hardened. 

“Linlin’s power is indisputable. She has ways of silencing people and making them disappear without a trace. Nobles who protest either mysteriously vanish or find themselves ruined beyond repair. She’s a master of manipulation and fear.” A flicker of smoldering resolve burned within Zeff’s eyes and his voice dropped to a fierce whisper, “I will not let Sanji marry into her family.”

Mihawk’s eyes narrowed as he processed this information. Sanji’s engagement to the Charlotte family wasn’t just a political maneuver; it was a way for Judge to rid himself of Sanji for good. His own anger rose at the callousness of Judge’s decision to endanger Sanji.

“I won’t let the same fate fall upon Sanji.” Mihawk replied, “but my son believes that Judge is using you as leverage to keep Sanji in line. It would be in his best interest for you to come with us to Kuraigana.”

Zeff’s braided mustache twitched, the idea of leaving clearly troubling him. The old man placed both hands on the table and leaned in close, his eyes boring into Mihawk’s.

“If you were in my position, would you leave your son behind?” Zeff asked.

Mihawk kept his face composed, but his heart twisted painfully at the thought. He would never abandon his children to an abuser’s mercy.

“I understand your concern,” Mihawk replied steadily, hoping that his stoic face reflected the empathy he genuinely felt. “But we should find a way to protect Sanji without you falling into Judge’s trap.”

Zeff’s eyes softened slightly, though his resolve remained unshaken. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him. But running away isn’t an option.”

“Then we will find another way.” Mihawk vowed, rising to his feet, “For now, continue to lay low while I-”

His words were abruptly cut off as the floor rumbled beneath his feet. The partitions began to rattle, and the bedframes creaked from the force of it. In the distance, it sounded like rocks tumbling into a heap. Even as the rumbling subsided, Mihawk stared down at the floor in disbelief, feeling the echo of tremors in his bones.

Zeff rose from his seat, while scattered murmurs from the other cooks filled the room.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt the ground shake like that before.” Zeff noted. 

Mihawk remained silent, his ears straining to catch any further sounds. An ominous feeling crept into him, like ivy inching its way over stone. Something was deeply wrong.

“Stay hidden.” Mihawk firmly advised Zeff. “I need to investigate.”

With that, Mihawk turned and urgently headed toward the door. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this tremor was more than just a natural occurrence.

—————————————

Panic surged through Perona as she raced down the hallway, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The muscles in her legs screamed in protest, but she couldn’t stop. Fear gnawed at her insides, driving her forward with relentless urgency. Suddenly, a fleeting moment of clarity cut through her panic: she didn’t have to run. 

With a forceful push off the ground, Perona willed herself to glide, her powers lifting her off the floor as she floated down the corridor, her brother’s sword, Wado, clutched tightly in her trembling hands.

Perona had awoken early that morning to check on Zoro, only to be greeted by the sight of Wado leaning against the bed frame. Zoro never went anywhere without his beloved. The realization had hit her like a physical blow, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. She had rushed to alert her father, but Mihawk’s room had been empty too. Desperation clawed at her as she turned to find Sanji, hoping he might know something, but he was missing as well. The absence of all three of them felt like an omen, and with Wado left behind, it could only mean that something was terribly wrong.

Her thoughts raced as she neared the next door, her urgency nearly causing her to crash into it. She thrust out a hand to halt her glide, landing with both feet on the cold stone floor. The pounding in her chest only intensified as she rapped sharply on the door, the sound of Wado clattering in her shaking hands rang in her ears.

A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing Reiju, whose expression hardened the instant she saw Perona.

“What do you want?” Reiju asked sharply.

Perona couldn’t help but wince at Reiju’s hostile tone, but she was too consumed by dread to linger on the hurt for long.

“Do you know where Zoro or Sanji are?” Perona asked, her voice trembling despite her efforts to sound composed.

Reiju’s glare only deepened.

“No, I haven’t even left my room yet.” Reiju replied heatedly. "You’re the one always meddling in everything. Shouldn’t you be the one to know where they are?"

Perona gave a pitiful glare back. She knew that it was a weak look considering her bottom lip was quivering in a pout and unshed tears burned in her eyes.

“I don’t understand why you keep doing that.” Perona shot back, her voice cracking. “I know you’re still mad at me for the meeting, but we both care about our brothers. We both want to make sure they are safe and happy.”

Reiju stepped out of her room, forcing Perona to take a step back to give her space in the hallway.

“We don’t need your brother, your father, or even you to help us.” Reiju retorted in an icy tone. “Our lives may not be perfect, but we have gotten along fine before you all showed up.”

“But you aren’t fine!” Perona argued, her voice rising with her frustration. “It’s obvious that Judge is abusing all of you, and Sanji has been getting the worst of it!”

Reiju quickly turned away from Perona abruptly, but not before Perona caught the spasm of hurt that had flickered in her eyes.

Perona clutched Wado closer to her chest, biting back a sob. They’d had this argument before. She’d tried to make Reiju understand that she didn’t want to see her or her brothers hurt. She knew how much it pained Reiju to be constantly pushed aside by Judge in favor of her three brothers. She knew how much responsibility Reiju set upon her own shoulders to protect Sanji from Judge’s anger. 

Perona took a deep calming breath. This wasn’t the time to rehash their disagreements.

Summoning her courage, Perona reached out and gently placed a hand on Reiju’s arm. To her relief, Reiju didn’t pull away.

"Please, I need your help." Perona's voice softened to a whisper, her eyes boring into Reiju's profile, desperate for any sign of understanding. "Everyone seems to be missing."

"Are you sure Zoro and Sanji aren’t just sneaking off to the village again?" Reiju asked skeptically, still avoiding Perona’s gaze. 

Perona shook her head, forgetting that Reiju could not see the gesture.

"No, this is different." Perona insisted. "I can’t find my father either, and Zoro... he left Wado behind." She hesitated, knowing how little that detail would mean to Reiju. But she pressed on, her voice growing more frantic. "I know it doesn’t seem like much to you, but Zoro never goes anywhere without Wado. He’d never leave her behind willingly. Please... I just need to find him. I need to know he’s safe."

There was a long pause. The silence felt almost deafening to Perona’s ears.

Slowly, Reiju turned to face Perona, her hardened expression giving way to something softer, almost reluctant understanding. 

"I’ll help you look for them." Reiju said, her voice quieter now, more sincere. The words were a calming balm on Perona’s heart, easing some of her fears. But before she could fully feel the comfort of it, Reiju’s next words sent a shiver down her spine. "If you’re really afraid he’s in danger, we should start by searching the dungeons. Judge used to lock us in there when we upset him."

Perona’s stomach twisted at the thought, her imagination conjuring images of Zoro trapped, injured, or worse. She clutched Wado tighter, her knuckles turning white around the hilt.

"Alright, let’s go." Perona replied, her voice firm despite the fear gnawing at her.

As Reiju closed the door behind her, Perona suddenly felt a tremor beneath her feet. The ground seemed to shiver, and a cold dread slithered down her spine. She and Reiju exchanged alarmed glances.

“What was-”

Before Perona could finish her question, a deep rumbling reverberated through the hall, followed by the unmistakable sound of a wall collapsing. Without a word, both women sprinted towards the noise. 

They skidded to a stop at a corner, peering out of a nearby window that overlooked the castle grounds. What they saw made Perona’s heart plummet. The iron door of the keep had been torn from its hinges, the once-solid cobblestone wall reduced to rubble. A gaping hole now yawned where the entrance had been, and crouched at its threshold were two monstrous figures.

“Dracons…” Reiju breathed in disbelief, looking down in horror. “They’ve never breached our castle before.”

Perona’s eyes widened in terror as she took in the sight below. One of the Dracons had auburn hair and golden scales. The other bore black, twisted horns that curled out from green hair, silver scales glinting beneath tan skin. She knew all too well the destruction these creatures could wreak, and the presence of two meant there could be more lurking near.

Perona tore her gaze away from the terrifying scene below, the blur of silver scales burning into her memory. The castle was no longer safe. Not for her, not for Reiju, and especially not for their brothers.

“We need to find our brothers quickly.” Perona turned her attention back to Reiju.

Reiju’s eyes, though filled with their own apprehension, met Perona’s with a steely resolve. She nodded, and Perona saw a flicker of something akin to a fierce warrior within her.

“Follow me.” Reiju instructed, guiding Perona away from the window and down the hall to a nearby staircase.

As they hurried past more windows, Perona’s curiosity got the better of her. She stole glances outside, her eyes drawn irresistibly back to the Dracons that were now facing the castle guards. Despite the frantic need to find Zoro, something about the scene below tugged at her attention. One of the Dracons, its silver scales glistening in the morning light, wasn’t attacking the guards with the viciousness she expected. Instead, it moved erratically, darting back and forth, almost as if…

Perona’s breath hitched as realization struck her. This Dracon wasn’t focused on destruction like the other. It was searching for something. It moved with a strange desperation, its massive form heaving as it prowled the ruins, its head snapping in different directions.

She tore her gaze away, her mind racing even as they descended the stairs. What could a Dracon possibly be searching for?

—————————————

Sanji stirred, roused from a haze of unconsciousness by the sensation of a low rumble reverberating through the stone beneath him. His face was pressed against the cold, damp ground, his body feeling unbearably heavy, as though an immense weight had settled over him. A sharp ache pulsed in his skull, and his mouth was dry, his tongue scraping against his teeth as the air around him filled with the taste of mildew and rot. The faint drip of water echoed through the darkness, the sound bouncing off rock walls that felt all too familiar.

Groaning, Sanji forced his eyes open, blinking against the dim light that seeped through cracks. The sight that greeted him sent a wave of dread crashing over him. He was in the same cell he had been locked away in as a child, a place that had haunted his nightmares for years. His heart pounded in his chest, panic gripping him as memories of that wretched time threatened to drown him.

With a jolt, Sanji sat up, his hands flying to his head, instinctively searching for the iron mask that had once been his prison. His fingers dug into his hair, soft and unbound, not the cold, unforgiving metal that had once caged and starved him. The relief was fleeting, however, as his hands dropped and were met with resistance. Chains clang against the stone floor, the sound reverberating through the small cell.

Sanji stared down at his body as if it belonged to someone else, numbness spreading through his limbs. For a moment, he couldn’t process what he was seeing, his mind struggling to stay in the present with the flood of memories surging through him. But then, like a cold, sobering tide, the past came crashing back over him.

He remembered it all. His passionate night with Zoro, the searing shame and fury of being caught by his brothers, the horrifying revelation that Judge and Linlin were behind the creation of the Dracons. And then, Linlin’s venomous threats against Zoro, promises that made his blood run cold.

No! Sanji’s mind screamed as he yanked on the chains with all the strength he could muster. They bit into his wrists, the rusted metal cutting into his skin, blood began to drip down his hands as he struggled against his bonds. He tried to stand, to force his body into motion, but the chains were too short, holding him captive, denying him the freedom he so desperately craved.

His breath came in ragged gasps as he kicked at the chains where they were bolted to the wall, gritting his teeth as the chains bit deeper into his palms. The metal groaned in protest, slowly loosening under the force of his blows. But it wasn’t enough… he needed to be free, to stop them before it was too late, before they could lay a hand on Zoro.

A sudden sound froze him in place.

Footsteps were echoing down the corridor. His heart raced as his mind spiraled with possibilities. His brothers? Judge? Linlin herself? Each thought sent a fresh wave of dread coursing through him, his nerves fraying at the edges.

But then, a flash of familiar pink hair came into view.

“Sanji!” The voice, filled with shock, broke through the fog of his fear.

He looked up, dazed, to see Reiju and Perona rushing down the narrow staircase into the dungeon. Reiju barely paused to snatch a ring of brass keys hanging at the foot of the steps.

“Reiju... Perona…” Sanji’s voice cracked as he struggled to rise, the chains still holding him back.

Reiju wasted no time. She unlocked the cell door and hurried to his side, her hands trembling as she fumbled with the keys to free him. 

Meanwhile, Perona was further down the hall, her wide eyes scanning each of the cells as she peered into the darkness, searching for something or someone.

“What happened to you?!” Reiju’s voice was tight with anger. Her gaze scanned over her brother, taking in his bruised and battered form.

Sanji waited until the lock clicked, the chains falling away from his wrists with a heavy clang. 

“Our brothers.” Sanji simply answered. He rubbed his sore wrists, the cold metal having left deep, angry red marks that throbbed with each pulse of his heartbeat. “I can explain more in a moment, but right now we have to find Zoro.”

"He’s not in here with you?" Perona’s voice came from down the hall, and when Sanji turned to look at her, he noticed the frantic, almost desperate gleam in her eyes. His gaze fell to the sword clutched tightly in her hands.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Why do you have Wado?" Sanji asked, his voice rising with panic as he rushed over to Perona. His eyes bore into hers, searching, pleading for an answer that wouldn’t crush him.

Tears welled up in Perona’s eyes, the sight of them sending a fresh wave of dread through his veins. 

"I found her in Zoro’s room." Perona replied with a wavering voice. "We can’t find him."

A cold numbing fear washed over Sanji, chilling him to the bone. Zoro was missing? 

His mind began connecting the horrifying pieces as Reiju joined them, her expression just as troubled. 

“We thought you would be together. Do you know what’s going on?” Reiju questioned. "Perona said everyone seems to be missing… and now there are Dracons attacking the castle." Sanji’s eyes snapped back to Reiju. Dracons. Plural. If there was more than one, and Zoro was missing… 

The horrifying realization hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him gasping for air. His knees buckled, and he fell to the cold stone floor, his hands trembling as they gripped the ground beneath him.

"No… no, no, no…" The words spilled from his lips in a panicked whisper as the truth settled in, the weight of it crushing him. He was too late. Zoro… Zoro had been turned. The man he loved, was lost to him forever.

The pain was unbearable, a searing agony that felt like someone had reached into Sanji's chest and ripped his heart out, leaving a hollow aching void behind. His vision blurred as hot tears spilled down his cheeks. His breaths came in shallow gasps, the realization of what might have happened to Zoro coursing through him like a slow, torturous poison.

Suddenly, a strong hand yanked him up by the collar, pulling him from the cold, unforgiving stone floor. Sanji blinked through his tears, startled by the force, only to find Perona standing over him. Her expression was deadly, a storm of rage and fear swirling in her watery eyes. Despite the tears staining her cheeks, she looked terrifying, a force of nature driven by raw emotion.

“What do you know?” Perona demanded.

"Perona-" Reiju began, stepping forward in an attempt to calm her, but she was halted by the ferocity of Perona’s glare. The look in Perona’s eyes made it clear that nothing would stand between her and the answers she sought.

"You know what happened to my brother." Perona coldly accused. Her gaze bore into Sanji’s, her grip on his shirt tightening. "Tell me where he is!"

Life is so cruel, Sanji thought bitterly. The one thing he wished he didn’t have to do, the one truth he desperately wanted to keep from her, was the very thing he now had to reveal. He didn’t want to be the one to shatter her, but there was no one else who could.

“The Dracons… they’re people,” Sanji began, his voice shaking as he forced the words out. He saw the confusion flash across Perona and Reiju’s faces, but he had to make them understand. "Linlin… she’s been using magic to steal and twist the souls of others. She forces them to turn into Dracons, and then Pudding erases their memories so they become mindless beasts under Judge’s control."

Perona’s grip on his shirt loosened slightly, but the intensity of her stare never wavered. Sanji could see the gears turning in her mind, the fear and anger battling for dominance.

"I saw them turn someone." Sanji continued, his voice breaking as the memory surfaced. "Then they… they threatened to do the same to Zoro."

The silence that followed was suffocating. 

Perona’s hand fell away from his shirt, her eyes widening as the horror of what he had said began to sink in. Reiju stood frozen in disbelief.

Sanji felt the last bit of strength drain from his body. The anguish on Perona’s face was a mirror of his own, a shared torment that only deepened the void in his chest. He had failed to protect Zoro, and now he was watching the same realization crush Perona.

“I’m so sorry.” Sanji whispered, the words barely audible. “I couldn’t stop them…”

“You sound like you’ve already given up.” Perona replied coldly.

“Huh?” Sanji’s voice was a mere croak. He weakly lifted his head, trying to process what she was saying. 

Perona wasn’t deterred. With a determined swipe, she wiped away the fresh tears that threatened to fall, her expression hardening with resolve. 

“Zoro isn’t gone.” Perona stated firmly. “If Linlin used soul magic, there’s no reversing that, but it doesn’t mean his memories are lost. He’s still Zoro. We just need to remind him of who he is.”

Sanji blinked, her words slowly sinking in. There was a deep conviction in her eyes, a fire that refused to be extinguished, driven by a love that refused to let go. 

Sanji felt a small spark of that fire reignite within him, chasing away the darkness that had been suffocating him. Could it really be possible? Could Zoro still be saved, despite the monstrous transformation he had undergone?

As Sanji stared at Perona, he realized that she was right. Zoro wasn’t just some mindless beast no matter what Linlin had done to him. He was still Zoro.

Hope began to bloom within him once more. The despair that had gripped his heart loosened its hold, replaced by a fierce determination. He wouldn’t let Zoro be lost to them. Not without a fight.

“We’ll find him.” Sanji vowed, the words firm and unyielding. “And we’ll bring him back.”

Perona nodded, a small grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. 

With that shared promise, the two turned toward Reiju, who had been quietly observing the exchange, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she looked between them, then she too nodded, the flicker of hope reflecting in her eyes.

“Let’s not waste any more time.” Reiju said calmly. “We’ll need every second we can get.”

With a shared nod, Sanji, Perona, and Reiju left the dungeons behind. The moment they entered the castle’s main corridors, they were met with a scene of utter chaos. Servants and guards, faces twisted in fear, stumbled over each other in their desperate attempt to flee from the danger that had infiltrated the castle’s once-impenetrable defenses.

The air was filled with the sound of panicked cries and hurried footsteps, the castle’s grand halls now reduced to a disorienting maze of terror. But the three royals moved with singular focus against the tide of bodies, pushing forward through the throng of fleeing people. 

As they pressed forward, Sanji’s eyes scanned the chaotic scene, searching for any sign of Zoro amidst the chaos, wondering if he would even be able to recognize him. 

Through the sea of fleeing figures, Sanji’s gaze locked onto a familiar silhouette: a tall, imposing figure moving with a sense of calm and purpose that contrasted sharply with the chaos around him.

Mihawk.

For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just that one figure.

“Papa!” Perona’s voice cut through the noise. 

They pushed through the crowd, Sanji’s eyes never leaving the swordsman.

Mihawk’s golden eyes landed on Wado in Perona’s hands, and in them, Sanji saw a flicker of recognition, followed by something darker, something that made his blood run cold. 

They came to a stop before Mihawk, the noise of the fleeing crowds fading into the background. The King’s gaze shifted from Wado to Perona.

“Zoro’s in trouble.”

[candycryptids]

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

✿ - Sex headcanon

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Tangy, all Tangy, give me Tangy Lore

■ - Tangy makes her long-term stay wherever the Scions have settled- the Waking Sands, the Rising Stones, unfortunately missed out on most of The Falling Snow.. while she’s still a much smaller Miqo’te staying in the Waking Sands she insists she doesn’t need much space to sleep, and just has a bunk with a leather bag hanging off one of the posts. Granted, that bunk is piled with blankets and pillows, and she doesn’t even sleep under them; it’s all just lumpy padding for curling up on top of and snoring. (After meeting with Chuu and finding out 1) there was a way to avoid getting arrested after the Banquet fiasco and 2) she could totally be stronger. Totally. And subsequently getting… let’s call it Off-Brand-Fantasia’d, she needs a bit more space.. she stops snoring most of the time, though. Having more snout apparently makes it easier to not snore!) She doesn’t ever keep an apartment of her own, but she does sometimes trek from Revenant’s Toll to Vesper Bay to check in on the old haunt, since Urianger seems keen to Never Leave. lmao.

This gets real long so here’s a cut for the sake of the dashboards lol (good lort there’s images down there…)

✿ - She’s Asexual! In that she doesn’t feel sexual attraction towards people, but she does enjoy the act? It’s a good way to relieve stress and it’s fun exercise and it’s a nice way to bond with others.

She does, however, struggle with the ‘Oops’ part of Chuu’s ‘Fantasia’ which was giving her a body with a dick :T There’s a learning curve. (Among other curves. Wink? Sorry dndndndnfke) Also, not necessarily sex, but she probably kisses her friends. Because she cares about them! Cheek kisses, lip kisses, forehead and top of head kisses… hand kisses… Kisses :)

Yda and Tangy pose is [Glomp Tackle] with fresh expressions but the rest are all custom done ;w; oh also shader is Neneko’s Love… I think.. 🫢 it’s all the same one 🤦 I just forgot to write it down

∇- I genuinely think Tangy gets a handle on Accounting by hanging out with Tataru so much over the years. It keeps Tataru’s mind off worrying about everybody as much while they’re away on business, and Tangy gets to wrinkle her brain (this takes. Such a long time though. She’s still not reliable for it, either, but she’s passable :3) .. for a proper aging headcanon tho I think as she gets older she becomes an anchor point for the Scions like Tataru is. Sets up shop and trains young adventurers in combat and cooking and camping. Her whiskers twitch when thunderstorms are brewing. She still sometimes needs nudging from her own students on things, but it’s usually in things relating to Reading. I feel like she has pretty bad dyslexia and maybe even dyscalculia that she’s just learned to deal with.

♒- LOVES food. Loves to eat. Loves to help with cooking. Measuring ingredients for recipes is actually pretty easy since it’s not demanded exactness, it’s just “half of this cup, level this cup, just enough to cover the bottom of this pan,” like, not exact. You feel cooking with your heart. And kneading bread is an excellent and fun work out to her. Can not bake.. Kinda wishes she could. She’s just not precise enough, and she gets the order in which things have to be done mixed up, so she ends up with some pretty…. Not exactly inedible but…. 🫢 It’s not appetizing looking.. and it doesn’t taste great… She’s not a picky eater, but she hesitates to eat snails. It just makes her a little sad, cos they’re cute to her. And then she eats them anyways =w=; the chef worked hard to make this delicious meal and she’s gonna eat it! (And not eating the snails would waste their life so. Honor their sacrifice and eat them.) Her favorite food is whatever she can eat with her hands/whatever’s in front of her at the time, and any of F’lahminn’s cooking. Even if it’s burnt.

[shout out to Elio for their Dango Props they’re so cute]

Oh shit I forgot to link the [Ask Meme]

[thedaily-beer]

Bullhouse Brew Co SUDS Juicy Pale (Picked up at a Whole Foods in London). A 3 of 4. Creamy and light body and a touch of interesting tropical fruit and stone fruit in the nose with a firmly dry finish. Refreshing, slightly juicy, and quite light at 4.5%.

[forensicated]

03x10 - Skipper

TW: Rape and racism discussions in terms of the 80's when it was written and filmed.

Brian is singing A Policeman's Lot in the toilets as he's excited about new police pushbikes. He'll be in the briefing to discuss them.

June's father is in hospital as he's seriously ill. She's placed in CAD to be near the phone just incase with Alec onside with homemade cake for the full 8 hours. Bob is joining them on the street to take June's place to keep them up to strength.

Uniform has their little revenge against Brian brewing with CID co-operation. Operation Mushroom is so-called because he's kept in the dark about it and fed on shit 😂 "Nothing can go wrong, it's planning and teamwork, what we in the MET are known for!"

The Relief try to hide their laughter as Brian gets overly excited about the bikes. He wants 2 volunteers to take them for a test drive around a rather violent estate. He claims it's not as bad as they think and as Nick is an authorised cyclist he's 'volunteered' alongside Taffy. Both are made up about it (!)

Yorkie is on the front desk and humoring a regular about writing to a Duchess. It's clear he has a history and knowledge of how best to deal with him and is very polite to the man but Brian sticks his oar in and moans at Yorkie and calls him insensitive for doing something that makes the man happy.

(Occasionally I have a shufty on google maps at some of the places they walk past on the beat if particularly colourful or eye-catching to see what they're like now because of all the changes and gentrification in London since the 80's. Dinesh and Bob go for a wander past the East West Social Club on Cannon Street 8 mins in - Here it is in 1986 (scroll down a bit) it looks the same as in the ep (only a year later.). A nose down Cannon Street now on Google shows it completely different and it looks like most of the street has been knocked down!) Just after we get a bit (on the same road where you can see Cannon St REALLY has changed!) you can see a bloke stop and stare at Bob and Dinesh and the camera. 😂

Dinesh and Bob are sent to a break and enter nearby. When they arrive it turns out to not be a burglary but a rape. A woman is out for the count on the floor, her husband appears to be drunk and passed out and their son is angry and muttering. The son claims that they were all asleep and a black man with a knife forced the door open, "probably high on drugs like they all are". He took their money, grabbed the woman and forced himself on her. The son starts to cry (with no sign of tears) and says he passed out before he could get to the phone as all had been drinking heavily. He can't say when it happened, he just found her on the floor when he came round again.

Bob and Dinesh lift the woman and take her to her bed where she'd be more comfortable. The son orders them to 'get out there and pull some in, there's enough of 'em!' and that he'd know him if he saw him again. Bob calmly says they'll proceed with their inquiries and sends Dinesh out, saying he'll arrange for the police doctor and a WPC to call. The son refuses but Bob says it has to be done in cases of rape. He then points out that the intruder must have had a key as there's no sign of force on the door. "We probably never locked it." The son admits. Bob looks around and sees no sign of a break-in. He explains about how DNA works and proves beyond doubt who the rapist is and that family members will be the first tested. The man looks shamefaced and tells Bob to forget it, "I'm not sure... I... forget it." Bob glares at him and tells him he'll call back tomorrow when they're all sober. "Some stones are left unturned." he sighs to Dinesh.

As he walks off and leaves Dinesh behind, Inspector Kite is seen watching both of them from a car a little distance away.

Jim tries to get on the bus when a bloke drags him off from behind and tries to push in. Jim tells him to back off and they tussle with Jim trying to arrest him after the man punches him. Bob arrives as if from nowhere and helps arrest the man. In custody, the man insists he thought Jim was going to knife him if he'd let go and that Jim never identified himself as a police officer. Tom smiles and says it doesn't matter either way if he is a police officer or not; anyone can stop another creating a breach of the police or unrest.

SO3 are also involved in Operation Mushroom. "No wonder you've no time to do any work, Alec!" Roy laughs.

Reg brings a bundle of cases upstairs to Roy that have been thrown out by the CPS. "If you ask me this Crown Prosecution Service is one big cock up!" he tells Roy. "I didn't ask you, Reg!" Brownlow's PA is called Joan here (and only appears in the one episode). Reg complains to Brownlow that he doesn't agree with a civilian being placed on the front desk. He insists if people come into a police station then they want to see police, not a member of the public greeting them. "What's going to be next?" "A collator?" Charles drawls, looking pointedly at him.

"In the good old days you could get rid of a bastard like Emmerson []a case the CPS have thrown out] by planting a shotgun in his car!" Ted sighs. Roy tells him to stop pretending he doesn't care about the CPS when he knows that he does. All he wants is the CPS to accept 'good real evidence!'

Roy gives Jim a job of a hold-up that happened the night before at a filling station. "... And don't go by bus!" he tells him to Ted's amusement.

Brian speaks to Brownlow about an idea he has had and Charles makes a dig that he usually goes over his head with ideas. "Send it to heaven like you normally do." For a few moments he is worried that Brian wants him to ride one of the bicycles that have arrived that morning at a tree planting presentation. Thankfully he doesn't! Roy tries to get in to see Brownlow when Brian leaves, but he shouts "GO AWAY!" through the door.

Brian targets Bob for a 'little chat' about outstanding warrants. He claims they've been in Viv and Nick's pigeonholes since Thursday and today is Monday. He moans about Bob not making sure they'd ben chased up. Bob admits he doesn't check them regularly anymore because he knows that Brian will do it anyway so sees no point in duplicating the job. "Are you saying I interfere?" "Well it is your prerogative, sir but you're the first Inspector I've ever had who has felt the need to interfere." Bob has been a copper for 18 years at this point (since 1969 when, if he's the same age as Eric, he'd have been 29 so would be 47 here.) Brian claims the relief are unpunctual, scruffy and their locker room is filthy. Bob scoffs. "Warning? Oh yes we get plenty of them, I'll say that for you!" Brian warns him not to walk out when he loses his temper and Bob says he isn't he's standing up and there's no objective about that. Brian says that the new order of policing counts for him too and Bob tells him he's wearing regulation uniform, his boots are shiny and there's nothing out of order to be found in his locker. Brian just smiles a nasty smile and says he knows 'all your lads watering holes, Sergeant. I've made it my business to find out. And yours as well. And may I say scrounging about in tea stores is the wrong impression to give a young officer like Patel." Bob realises he's been spied on but Brian calls it supervision and claims Bob neglects it.

Ken delivers some 'urgent' post to Brian who finally lets Bob leave. Brian rings Roy and asks if he can fill in for him at the tree planting presentation as 'something important has popped up' He assures him with a smile that it's no problem.

Operation Mushroom is a go go.

Jim speaks to a young girl about the hold-up. She gave him what was in the till, approx £51, and tells Jim he didn't speak but he was 'well hung' as the only piece of clothing he was wearing was a mask!

Yorkie takes a delivery to Brian - inside are three bottles with numbers on them and an instruction for him to collect mud samples from along the river. It's a super secret task only he can do.

Jim reports to Roy that the petrol station armed robber did it naked and Roy says he already knows because he's just done another in broad daylight. Jim asks Reg if he knows of any armed robber who has a tendency to do it naked with a gun that's likely to be a replica. Reg claims he has one with a toy gun but wears a tracksuit. It's the right area and a tracksuit would be easy to remove.

Alec calls Bob and asks him what he's up to. "Counting to 10 and thinking of my pension." June calls in that a woman is worried about her elderly neighbours and asks him to go and visit them to see if everything is alright. She hasn't heard anything for 2 days and didn't say they were going away anywhere.

Brian fusses with the bikes and tells Taffy and Nick that they're going for sensitive policing and to use their discretion if they see anything out of order. He takes himself off to Tower Beach to take mud samples. At the same time, a man is taking pictures of him.

Bob shouts through the doorway of a flat to see if anyone answers before looking in the windows. He can't see anything so shouts again before breaking in after spotting a light on. Sadly Mrs Pollard has passed away and her husband is laid in bed holding her and hasn't moved since it happened. He won't allow Bob to touch her and says she's fine where she is. Bob calls for the mortuary van and the doctor to visit and starts to make the man a cup of tea. Now he's calmer he recognises Bob as Sgt Cryer who dealt when his wife lost his purse. Bob engages him in conversation and finds out they've been married for 60 years. He refuses to let her go without him.

Brian goes to collect his next sample, a short distance from Tower Bridge.

Jim receives another call where his naked suspect is still in place at a filling station. Mike speeds over and the two run in. The woman separated him from his gun and wrestled him into the store room.

Roy asks Charles to complain about the CPS but he insists that nothing would happen, even if all the Superintendents in the MET complained. He sends Nick and Taffy out on their bikes with those left in the station sneaking out behind them and singing Daisy Daisy as they cycle off.

Brian changes his office sign to Private after carrying his samples inside and makes a telephone call, asking for Superintendent Chivers. "I've got the samples, shall I arrange delivery or will you send someone?" he asks. When Chivers has no idea what he's talking about he explains that he was personally asked to gather samples of mud to test to see if a missing canister of highly toxic waste lost in the Thames is leaking and he'd had a message through CAD and a letter. Chivers tells him he's clearly been the victim of a practical joke!

Brownlow attends the tree planting with Roy and other important community figures on the rough estate and makes a speech. Nick and Taffy 'play' with local youngsters and lift them up for pictures, earning several blows to their hats. As soon as they leave, a local dog makes its presence known by peeing up the side of the new tree!

Brian sits with the samples on his desk as Yorkie knocks. He doesn't answer so Yorkie opens the door anyway and hands him an envelope telling him he's been sent it from SO3 (forensics) - it's the pictures of him gathering the mud.

With the man asleep, Bob helps the doctor declare the death of Mrs Pollard and the attendants start to remove the body of the man's wife. He wakes to find her being moved and breaks down with Bob comforting him as she's carried out.

June receives a telephone call from the hospital to let her know that her father has deteriorated. "... Are you trying to tell me he's dead?" she asks quietly, before agreeing to head over immediately.

Alec updates Bob about the prank they carried out on Brian. Bob thinks it's one thing the relief having a pop but it undermines the authority of a senior officer when the Sergeants get involved. "Yeah we thought you might be a bit po-faced about it and that's why we didn't tell you." Alec adds. "As it happens I agree with you, the man is a prat!" but he realises Brian is young and clever enough to adapt unlike them. He then asks how June is but Alec doesn't know anything outside of the telephone call from the hospital. "Bet she was glad of your care and attention." he sighs.

Bob knocks on Brian's door where he's singing A Policeman's Lot again. "Come to gloat have you?" he asks, showing him the mud. Bob admits he wasn't involved but he knows that the others will think he had it coming. He tells him that he doesn't find it funny himself. Brian thanks him for his honesty and apologises for overstepping the mark earlier but says he won't let being the butt of a practical joke stop him from doing his job.

[what-would-have-happened]

Fanfiction Masterlist Post!

Longfics first, then oneshots, split into fandoms; I’ll post everything I’ve written here that I think is worth sharing. If a fic’s got a main ship, I’ll put it in italics next to the summary, as well as any other note. All fic titles are links.

My Hero Academia Fanfics

Unicorn Tuesday: In which Himiko is adopted by the Iidas, Hitoshi is best friends with an amnesiac Dabi, Katsuki has magic powers, Shouto and Zuko bodyswap every Tuesday, and Denki is dEfInItELy nOT the UA traitor. Yes, this is an ATLA crossover.

in another life: In which Katsuki is quirkless (mostly), Izuku has an Erasure quirk (not really), Fumikage has One for All (halfway), Monoma is a Todoroki (he isn’t) and Tenya and Denki will have to fight for a happy ending. Iida/Kaminari

box: Enji and Rei are villains. Everything changes. Toga/Todoroki, Nejire/Tamaki

we make our own luck: Endeavor and Izuku get cloned, unfortunately for literally everyone.

what would have happened: In which Bakugou and a Todoroki Nomu time travel, Touya runs away with his brothers and adopts Eri and Shinsou, multiple people are not quite villains (but not quite heroes either), Eraserhead has no idea what's going on, the LoV arrests an army, and Natsuo is the only person with any amount of common sense. Shigaraki/Natsuo

until it breaks: MHA actor AU.

six miles: Autopotency: a system, having complete knowledge and power over itself. Katsuki and Touya don’t have the knowledge, exactly, but they’re trying their best with what they have. For one, the power’s a terrible blessing; for the other, it’s a magnificent curse. Or: the disastrous life of bakugou k. (ft touya)

anachronism: Shirakumo can time travel, and so knows when he will die; isn't it odd, that Kurogiri's here? The Todorokis are immortal, and so can't stay dead; isn't it odd, that Touya's gone? Even in a world of quirks, there are anachronisms. This story's about a few of them. Ashido/Sero

hey, brother: There is no such person as Todoroki Shouto; instead, Natsuo has an extremely peculiar quirk. It’s kind of a problem for everyone. Jirou/Toga

Natsuo’s Foolproof Plan to Kidnap Shigaraki Tomura: You know the trope where Shigaraki kidnaps Natsuo to be the League’s medic? This is not that. Shigaraki/Natsuo

the krytos trap: In which Class 1A produces a soap opera. Todoroki/Midoriya

the rest of us just live here: DnD world fantasy AU centered around the Todoroki family. Fuyumi/Ryukuyu

after the end of the world: Modern AU where there are no quirks, villains, or heroes, but everyone plays soccer. There are also soulmates and dimension travel. Shigaraki/Natsuo

Fullmetal Alchemist Fanfics

falling stars, fading scars: Edward and Alphonse, of the year 1917, time travel to when Mustang was fifteen—1895. This has consequences, to say the least.

bother, I left my torch in narnia: It's been twenty years since Ed and Al were stranded on this side of the Gate. Now, with a World War brewing on the horizon, they live a mostly-quiet life in rural England with their friend Alfons. However, things start to get very confusing when Ed, Al, and Alfons take in some evacuee kids from London, and they discover a mysterious portal in Al's old armor...Ed just wants to get the Pevensies home safe, but it seems that Narnia has other plans. Featuring Lion Jesus, dimensional shenanigans, and an unexpected encounter with an old friend. Co-written with @fiddlysticks

the courtship of rebecca catalina: In which Jean Havoc finds a Philosopher's Stone, goes ghost hunting, fights a homunculus, impersonates the Flame Alchemist, prevents the apocalypse, attempts to parent the Elrics, and wins Rebecca's heart--not necessarily in that order. Jean Havoc/Rebecca Catalina

katana: In which Roy Mustang attempts to find the missing Katana Fleet, the Elrics sign up to find it too, a secret organization of Sith is stirring from the shadows, and some Jedi still remain. And Al definitely isn't hiding a big secret. Nope. Star Wars AU.

what doesn’t kill you: What with serial killers, government plots, homunculi, Philosopher's Stones and murderous emperors of Xing all causing trouble, Ed and Al find that getting their bodies back has become significantly harder--and hiding the fact that they lost them in the first place near impossible. But they'll manage it--they've got an entire galaxy counting on them, after all. Mei Chang/Alphonse Elric. Science Fiction AU.

five knives: In which Ed and Al are Ishvalan on their mother's side, immortal on their father's side, Mustang doesn't deserve this amount of Elric Rubbish, soulmarks exist only to cause pain, and the universe is nearly devoured by eldritch tentacles. Mei Chang/Alphonse Elric

we are more than we are (we are one): On a dark and stormy night, three things go terribly wrong. The first: that Ed and Al attempt human transmutation, and pay a toll for crossing the Gate. (I know, you knew that already) The second: that there is no suit of armour in the room. (I know, you've seen this one before) The third: that Winry is nearby, and intervenes. (two become one, become three)

everything is fricked (there are seven Edward Elrics): In which Alphonse gets his body back far earlier than in canon, the Stop-The-Amestris-Death-Circle team does their best, Scieska's conspiracy theories turn out to be true, and Mustang becomes increasingly uncertain of the number of Edward Elrics in the world.

the inevitable fourteenth: On your fourteenth birthday, you swap bodies with your soulmate. This is interesting, to say the least, for Alphonse and Mei. It's a downright disaster for Lust and Havoc. Mei Chang/Alphonse Elric, Lust/Jean Havoc (once I finish writing the second chapter at least)

Avatar: the Last Airbender

not this time: In which Zuko realizes what's wrong with the Fire Nation and becomes the Blue Spirit three years early, Sokka is probably not an earthbender, both boys cause incredible amounts of concern and confusion to their parental figures, soulmarks are a thing, Azula steals her brother's redemption arc, and Captain Rei did not sign up for this. Zuko/Sokka

Yep, just one ATLA fic lol

[mighty-bulldog]

Stone & Wood Pale Ale (#303)

👍👍👍👍/5

American Pale Ale

4.4% Alcohol

Served from a Tap in “Silvester’s Restaurant & Lounge” at Sydney Harbour Marriott Hotel at Circular Quay

Brewed by Stone & Wood Brewing Co.

Product of Australia 🇦🇺

[deadboyfriendd]

20 Questions for Fic Writers Game

Thank you for the tag <3 @jo-harrington

1) How many works do you have on A03? - none, actually. I haven't made it to tht neck of the woods yet.

2) What's your total AO3 word count? - That would be a big ole 0

3) What fandoms do you write for? - Stranger Things currently. I used to be a writer for The 100 back in my Wattpad days. Sometimes I throw around the idea of writing for Fargo or Criminal Minds.

4) What are your top five fics by kudos? - I would say probably Stains in the Granite, Cochise, Stone Gothic, H E A D L I N E R S., Kate, and The Bisbee Letter Series

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? - I try really hard to respond to the really meaningful ones, but if I have poo brain that day it slips. I read all of them and reread them over and over until they're engrained in my noodle brain though! .

6) What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? - Stone Gothic or Sockpuppet. Stone Gothic is angst in terms of bodily violence Sockpuppet in terms of ouchie feelings OR OR OR She Makes Dirty Words Sound Pretty. Can you tell I love angst?

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? - Hallmark, probably. That was kind of the whole point of doing a Hallmark movie themed fic.

8) Do you get hate on fics? No.

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kinds? - Yes but it has to be there as a plot catalyst. I write very flowery very feelings-oriented smut, even if the characters don't have feelings for each other. Though, I feel like everything I write is feelings-oriented.

10) Do you write crossovers? - It never went I don't think I've written one yet but if I get a good idea I'm not opposed to it. Maybe if you wanna count SITG or Cochise since they're based off of 50 First Dates and Tombstone?

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen? - Not that I’m aware of.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated? - Again, not that I'm aware of.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before? - Nothing that I would explicitly credit myself with but @dr-aculaaa and I loom over each other's docs like God. I'm pretty sure Drac has inadvertently written half of my fics.

14) What's your all time favorite ship? -We're big Steddie fans around here. Keep an eye out for a Steddie fic I have brewing.

15) What's a WIP that you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? - LMAO might be that steddie fic that I just talked about. I also have a very flowery and angsty AU of an AU of an AU baby about Robin that I've been screaming to her about that is on the very back of burners.

16) What are your writing strengths? - I'm really good at analogies and descriptive writing. I've always written about feelings because I have a lot of them and I'm painfully self-aware of them.

17) What are your writing weaknesses? - LMAO editing process? I don't know her. Every work you get is beta read by Drac and that's IT. If it misses Drac then it was meant to be a part of the fic. In terms of my actual writing, I think it's smut writing. I'm good at making people love each other not good at making them fuck.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? - There has to be a place for it that makes sense. I used lines in Latin in Cochise and Bisbee because my Eddie is very much based off of Doc Holliday, who spoke Latin, and used that line very much as a plot catalyst. I use a lot of analogies to Marlowe's Doctor Faustus which also has Latin in it, which was crucial to the storylines of both Bisbee and Cochise.

19) First fandom you wrote for? - The Walking Dead when I was entirely too young to be fic reading or writing. Maybe One Direction before that? Also W A Y too young to be fic reading or writing. The first fandom I ever had success writing in was The 100. Still too young but I'm proud of those 100k notes.

20) Favorite fic you've written? - The Cochise and Bisbee universe. I LOVE writing in that prose and I LOVE reimagining these characters into Tombstone. It's so personal to me since I'm from Arizona and I love living here and all of the cowboy stuff. It feels like I neglect it sometimes but really, I'm trying so hard to get them perfect because this is absolutely my passion project and I'm so proud of them even though they get like zero reads.

No Pressure Tags: @dr-aculaaa @bettyfrommars

[cococaffeinated]

To Keep You, Part 3 (siren AU)

Recap: Part 1, Part 2 It's a drabble-comic mix for this part! My hands couldn't keep up with the story I had brewing and I didn't wanna put it off just cos I couldn't draw fast enough. Also, MC (the reader, you) has hair now. I know not everyone has medium-length hair, but it won in the polls I did outside the Tumblr app! Still, feel free to imagine how your own MC would look like though.

You stood still... Cautious as you watched the gargantuan sea siren dive back into the depths of the dark waters surrounding the cave's opening. It had clicked and chirped at you before going away. You still had no way of knowing what it was telling you. But you had a feeling it'd be back.

Without the light from the siren's lure, you were plunged into the darkness in its absence. You waited a good long moment before beginning your exploration, needing your eyes to adjust to the dark. Before their departure, the creature had pointed to a house and a fire pit further south of the cave... You could have been imagining it, but it seemed to be giving you something akin to a house tour. Despite everything, the thought in itself was funny. 'First things first, warmth and light should be a priority.' You thought as you shuffled over to the fire pit, using the damp cavern walls for guidance. Unfortunately, there was nothing around that you could use to start a fire. And with how damp you are, you didn't think trying your luck with clacking random stones together would be fruitful. Letting out a huff of determination, you blindly walked over to the rope ladder where you remembered seeing it a few moments ago when the cave was lit. It should lead to the cabin you saw earlier. It took a bit of doing... What with some of the rope steps missing from the lack of maintenance on top of it being dark... But eventually, you made it to the top of the tiny cliff, where the cabin stood. Breathless, you lay on your back for a moment. Your gaze wanders to study the area from where you lay. The cabin was simple, nothing grand. It looked sturdy despite its weather-worn look. There were no lit lights inside or outside, no sign of life. To the right of the cabin was a wooden chest. You chuckle to yourself. Thoughts of video games and lootable treasure items coming to the forefront of your mind. If sea monsters were real, you sure as hell hope this thing wasn't a mimic chest. Steeling your nerves, you stood up and made your way to the chest to investigate its contents.

You weren't about to question your stroke of extremely good luck.

Your eyes particularly zoomed in on the cluster of flint and steel in the chest, as well as the torches. While you didn't think you'd need a torch just yet, you were happy to have them handy in case you did. Reaching for the clothes in the neat pile of items, you admired the soft but sturdy material. Rifling through it, you found there were shoes tucked between the tunic shirt and the pants at the bottom.

"Stranger and stranger... If no one has lived here in years, how are all these here and in good condition?" you mutter to yourself. The chest was awfully well-equipped for someone who would happen upon it with nothing in hand. Just like you at the moment. Shaking your head, you focused on your first order of business. An outfit change. You took the clothes with you as you entered the cabin, lighting old lanterns as you went with flint and steel to illuminate the small living space.

Inside was a small bed off to one side, a wooden desk to the other, crates of boxes, and a cabinet. There wasn't much else to give the place personality... Ironically, this told you that whoever used to live here only used this place as a pit-stop at most. A half-way home. You laid out the clothes you had on the bed, covering your mouth and nose as dust floated upward from the slightest impact, before getting out of your wet suit. You slipped the tunic on first... it was soft and warm. And you were thankful that the pants it came with were just as comfortable to wear.

Making quick work of some spare linens you found in the cabinet, you made make-shift socks to cover your feet before stepping into the soft leather boots that came with the rest of your ensemble.

You wished you had a mirror to look yourself over but you felt good, at least. And more importantly, you were no longer cold and wet. Now that you were sure you weren't going to catch your death with a cold, you stepped back outside the cabin to take another good look inside the chest. "Let's see... There's a pouch of gold coins," you hummed as you put those to the side. You could always count them later. "If I manage to get out of here, they could be useful..." you mused to yourself. You next picked up the book, surprised by its weight. Turning it over this way and that, you found small little notes sticking out of the sides on varied segments of the book... It seemed like an almanac of sorts. Before you can crack it open, a sealed scroll letter catches your attention next. So you put down the book for now and gingerly peel open the sealed letter.

The book would need more time to study and internalize. The letter would at least be easier to digest, hopefully.

//TBC

[nwbeerguide]

USC Athletics partners with Stone Brewing Co. for official craft beer.

Press Release

ESCONDIDO, CA ... The University of Southern California (USC) Athletics, announces the debut of its first-ever official craft beer, Stone Fight On! Pale Ale. The beer is brewed by Stone Brewing, the Southern California-based brewery that has been trailblazing the craft beer category with a fierce commitment to quality and freshness for 27 years. The official USC Athletics beer will be available for purchase the week of August 14, 2023.

Stone Fight On! Pale Ale will be distributed throughout Southern California at stores, bars, and restaurants and onsite at the Los Angeles Colosseum and the Galen Center, home of the USC Trojans. Its 16oz cans feature classic USC iconography and colors. Inside, the beer is a quintessential SoCal Pale Ale – a balanced blend of tropical and citrusy hop flavors, light-body and endlessly drinkable at 5.5% ABV. Stone’s brewers developed the beer to offer that hoppiness Southern Californians crave in a style that suits tailgates, beach days, and cheering from the stands or at home.

“USC Athletics has been seeking the perfect beer partner – a regional brand that would be meaningful to our fans and add to the gameday experience, " explained Drew DeHart, Vice President/General Manager, USC Sports Properties and Playfly Sports. “Stone really nailed a Pale Ale that’s representative of the SoCal craft beer scene, and easy drinking too. We’re honored to see our USC colors, marks and Trojan alongside the Stone Gargoyle.”

“Stone beers are popular nationwide and across the globe, but SoCal is where we started and is home to our biggest population of fans,” explained Erin Smith, Stone Brewing SVP of Marketing. “We’re thrilled at the opportunity to create a beer that instills local pride in that cross-section of craft beer drinkers and USC fans and alumni. It’s our hope that this beer is enjoyed year-round for its incredible flavor, and that it truly adds to the gameday experience across all USC sports.”

Find the beer online via Stone’s Beer Finder, Find.StoneBrewing.com or order it online for delivery in California and select states via Shop.StoneBrewing.com.

FIGHT ON!

...

ABOUT STONE BREWING

Founded in 1996, Stone pioneered the West Coast Style IPA, helping to fuel the modern craft beer revolution and inspire generations of hop fanatics. Today Stone operates breweries in Escondido, CA and Richmond, VA plus seven tap room and bistro locations. Stone offers a wide range of craft beers including its most popular Stone IPA, Stone Delicious IPA and Stone Buenaveza Salt & Lime Lager. The company’s long list of environmental efforts includes a LEED Silver Certification, world-class water reclamation and creative uses of spent grain. Stone has been called the “All-time Top Brewery on Planet Earth” by BeerAdvocate magazine twice. To find Stone beers, visit find.stonebrewing.com. For more information on Stone Brewing visit stonebrewing.com, Facebook, Instagram or Twitter. 

ABOUT USC SPORTS PROPERTIES

USC Sports Properties is the locally-based, exclusive multimedia rightsholder for USC Athletics. As a part of the Playfly Sports Properties portfolio of nearly 40 collegiate and high school state association properties, the USC Sports Properties team connects brands to USC’s passionate and deeply-rooted fanbase. Through broadcast, in-arena, experiential, and technology-based marketing and media solutions, Playfly Sports Properties’ fully scalable platform provides marketers unparalleled access to the most highly engaged audiences on a local and national level. Playfly Sports Properties is a division of Playfly Sports.

Connect with the USC Sports Properties team by visiting www.playfly.com/properties.

ABOUT PLAYFLY SPORTS

Playfly Sports is a sports media, marketing and technology business centered around the team, league, brand, and network.  Believing in ‘Fandom as a Service’​ and focusing on a consultative, data driven approach to REACH, ENGAGE, MONETIZE AND MEASURE FANDOM gives the company’s partners and brands a competitive advantage.​ Playfly connects more than 2,000 brand partners with approximately 83% of all U.S. sports fans. Through the proprietary platform the business delivers scalable, data-oriented marketing, technology, and media solutions with capabilities including exclusive MMR management, sponsorship sales and activation, streaming, consulting, ticket/premium sales, all along with new revenue-driving platforms and technologies.  Founded in September of 2020, Playfly Sports is now home to approximately 1,000 team members located across 43 U.S. states dedicated to maximizing the impact of highly passionate local sports fans. Follow Playfly Sports on social media @PlayflySports or visit www.playfly.com.