#devil's door brewery | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

Text

A Place To Call Home: Dads

Summary: When the reader gets an offer to make some money on the side, things quickly evolve to Jensen learning about where some of the reader and TJ’s money has been going, namely TJ’s father. Jensen offers to help out but discovers that Rick might be up to something...

Masterlist

Square: A Place To Call Home

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 7,600ish

Warnings: language, angst (so much family angst), minor injury

A/N: Written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo. This part takes place after the Halloween timestamp. Enjoy!

______

“Thank you, Barry,” you said as he left the office at the brewery. Your head was still up when your dad slipped inside and he shut the door. “What’s up?”

“There’s a talent scout out in the draft room,” he said.

“Fascinating,” you said, going back to reading over a contract with a new distributor.

“Y/N they’re here to see you.” You turned in your seat and stared at him, breaking out into a giggle. “I’m serious.”

“This is by far your worst prank yet.”

“You modeled some of the new merch last week? He’s here for you,” he said.

“To what, model?” you scoffed. “No thank you.”

“Well can you go tell him that because he was insisting on hearing it from you,” he said. You sighed and walked out front, a guy in a suit with no tie on sipping from a glass. He smiled when he saw your dad behind you.

“Ms. Ackles,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s Mrs. Hanover,” you said with a friendly enough smile.

“You’re clearly used to some hard negotiations.”

“I’m tougher than I look Mr…”

“Elbridge but please call me Dan.”

“What can I do for you today, Dan?” you asked. He walked out to a quieter spot by the railing, settling at one ot the standing tables.

“I work for a talent agency, Mrs. Hanover. We’ve worked with your father a few times when he was starting out,” he said, your dad giving a nod. “We’ve seen your modeling pictures and we’re very interested in you doing a shoot.”

“I appreciate the offer but my answer is no. I’m not a model or an actress or any of the things my parents are besides someone invested in this brewery,” you said.

“She is a tough cookie,” he said as he looked at your dad. “I’m assuming you told her nothing I told you.”

“You gotta sell it on your own,” he said.

“Y/N, we’d like you to be in a commercial with some other women. An underwear commercial.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a commercial for inclusivity for people with differences,” he said.

“He means the scar on your back, Y/N. From the accident,” said your dad.

“You’re exactly the kind of person we want included in the line. There’ll be a photo run of things too and-“

“Why exactly do you know I have a scar on my back?”

“Your Instagram. I assumed it was public knowledge.”

“Okay but it’s not even that big. Like it blends in. I’m boring. Get like, an amputee or a burn survivor. That’s inclusive. I’m average.”

“We have a vast array of women in the line including those types and all kinds of body types. But you’re...a brand name we could put to the project.”

“Brand name,” you said. He hummed and you laughed. “My dad? That’s a brand name, not me. Throw him in some underwear and I’m sure you’ll get all the attention you want.”

“Well we want you,” he said. He pulled out a business card and handed it over. “Our initial offer is on the back but we’re open to negotiations. Call us if you think you might be interested. Oh and the beer’s great.”

“Thanks,” you said, looking over the card. The guy had wandered off by the time you flipped it over.

“I told him you wouldn’t be interested,” said your dad, sipping from his bottle of water. You blinked at the card, your dad raising an eyebrow. “You’re not considering it are you?”

“Dad,” you said. You flipped the card around and showed it to him, water spitting out of his mouth.

“Hey, Dan,” he said, rushing back and waving him over. Dan smiled as he walked back, drink in his hand.

“I thought that’d-” said Dan before your dad got in his face. “Is there a problem?”

“What are you up to,” he said.

“Dad.”

“Y/N no one gets offered that much money off the street. No one. So I’m gonna ask again. What are you up to?”

“It’s for a package deal. A photo shoot. A commercial. Ad sponsorship for three months bi-weekly on her social media accounts. We’d also like her to design the set for the commercial. There’s a time crunch of next week so we felt a hundred was a fair offer for that amount of work on short notice,” said Dan. “If she were simply modeling, we’d offer her twenty five but this is our biggest line of the year. You are more than welcome to come along every step of the way.”

“Dan I really do appreciate the offer but I’m not a model. I don’t even remember the last time I wore makeup. I will happily design a set and build if you like and maybe I can do the ad thing but I’m not a model like my parents. Can I talk to my dad for a second?”

He nodded and walked off a ways, your dad sighing.

“Maybe mom could do it or something? She’s done that stuff before,” you said.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do. Go for the set design for sure. You’re good at it and I know you get to break back into your architecture skills for that. But the rest...once you get on that train you can’t get off.”

“Dad, people already know who I am. I have like...an obnoxious number of followers on my accounts and stuff. My most popular posts? Always about you. I’ve never been in the shadows.”

“I know but that’s different than you doing these things. If you start taking pictures in underwear, you’re gonna attract at least a few weirdos and most of them are harmless but maybe some aren’t and there is a reason that Uncle Cliff still hangs out with me at certain times.”

“It’s a hundred thousand dollars. TJ and I could pay off the lawyer fees for Allie’s adoption finally,” you said. “We could get our mortgage payment down.”

“You’ve never cared about money,” he said. You pursed your lips and he narrowed his eyes. “Are things tight?”

“Dad.”

“Are they?”

“I don’t ask about your finances.”

“I sat down with both you and TJ when you bought the house and even with the renovation costs, your monthly payment was very affordable. Allie’s adoption should have been paid off months ago.”

“Do you stalk our spending now or what?” you shot back.

“Well you haven’t bought a new car or any big expenses. Where’s the money going?” he asked.

“I’ll take the set design and leave it at that,” you said. You brushed past him and over to Dan.

Thirty minutes later you had a signed contract and were back in your office, your dad grumbling as he walked inside.

“I’m busy,” you said.

“Where’s the money going, Y/N?”

“TJ and I make very good money,” you said, typing up an email. He leaned over the desk and narrowed his eyes. “I took the set design only for twenty. Happy?”

“Why do you need twenty thousand dollars?”

“Coming from the guy who made how much fucking money for a single freaking episode? At least I’m not slutting out my face,” you said. He stood back and slammed the door shut on his way out. You sighed and got up, finding him out back, splitting old pallets down. “Dad I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

“Dad. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Yeah you did,” he said. “That is exactly why I didn’t want you doing that shoot. Then all you are is a pretty face.”

He moved a pallet and picked up the axe again, bringing it down in the center.

“Dad.”

“What?” he snapped as he spun around.

“I said it because I knew it’d make you mad and piss you off and get you to drop it. It’s the only reason I said it. Please stop asking about where my money goes. Please.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Dad I said to stop asking.”

“Tough shit,” he said with a shrug. “Call me whatever you want. Maybe I get pissed off but I’ll cool off too. I know how much you make and I know how much he makes and I know you two have both been taking side jobs recently. You should have your house paid off by now, not barely making your mortgage. What’s going on and I want the truth.”

“I can’t.”

“What’s TJ involved in,” he said. You looked away and he nodded. “There are very few reasons why you wouldn’t tell me the truth and considering how small Allie and Colin are, he’s the only one I can think of.”

“I can’t.”

“Hey! There you are,” said TJ, walking around the corner with a bag in his hand. “I was out at a ranch nearby for work and figured we could have lunch together.”

“Speak of the little devil,” said your dad. He dropped the axe and TJ set the food on the hood of his truck, cocking his head.

“You okay, Jensen?” he asked.

“Peachy,” he said, putting his hands on his hips when he stopped in front of him. “So. Want to tell me what’s going on with your finances lately?”

TJ glanced to you and you shook your head.

“Nothing,” said TJ quietly.

“You want to try that again and not lie to me this time?” asked Jensen. TJ shook his head and your dad shut his eyes. “If you’re involved in something bad, let me help. I have money.”

“TJ just tell him,” you said. TJ sighed and picked up the food, walking over to the employee picnic area and sat down. You took a seat beside him and TJ handed you a wrapped burrito, your dad sitting across from him.

“I’m not angry. Let me help is all,” said your dad.

“It’s not us who’s in trouble,” said TJ. Your dad looked to you and you nodded. “It’s my dad.”

“Oh you two,” he said, shutting his eyes. “You’re paying off Rick’s debt he owes somebody, aren’t you.”

“Rick owes money to a bookie and...he beat him up kinda bad and we have extra so…” you said, your dad staring at you. “He asked us not to tell anyone.”

“How much?” he asked.

“Five...hundred,” said TJ.

“Five hundred thousand?” he asked, your heads nodding. “Five hundred thousand? What...how much have you given him already?”

“About half,” said TJ. Your dad shook his head and put his hands over his face, quickly pulling them off. “I know it’s a lot.”

“Yeah…” he said, swallowing to himself.

“We got it covered. Really. At the rate we’re doing extra side work-”

“Kids...you’re both so kind I think you missed something pretty important,” said your dad.

“I don’t understand,” said TJ. He looked to you and you shrugged.

“Guys that’s a lot of money. That’s...an extraordinary amount of money to a lot of people. How on earth does your father owe that much money all of a sudden?” asked your dad.

“He made some bets he lost on,” said TJ.

“But how could it be that much. What was the original bet?”

“What?”

“What was the original bet he made and lost on?”

“I don’t know. We figured it must have been like a hundred.”

“So your father bet a hundred, say he lost. That’s two hundred. Say he got some insane interest on it. Okay. Maybe, maybe he truly owes that much. But where did he get that original one hundred?”

“He didn’t have it,” said TJ. “We think.”

“Okay. He bet badly and ends up owing the whole thing,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“Do you give this money to Rick or the bookie?” asked your dad.

“My dad. He didn’t want us to get involved with the guy,” said TJ.

“Okay,” said your dad. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna drive up to your folks this afternoon TJ and talk to your dad, see what’s left he owes. I will pay the rest.”

“Jensen that’s a lot of money.”

“I know it is. But it’s better to get him out of the hole quickly before something were to happen and I can afford it. Okay? I’m gonna head up. You two enjoy your lunch. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

Something was off about him as he stood and left but you weren’t quite sure what was wrong.

“My dad’s gonna be pissed. He didn’t want Jensen to know at all,” said TJ.

“He wants to help. He’s got a point. The quicker it’s paid off, the quicker your dad’s out of danger. Let’s have lunch and you can tell me about that ranch you’re fixing up.”

“Arrow,” you grumbled that night as she reached for the hot pan. “Let it cool off.”

“Why are we having dinner at your house?” she asked. “No offense but you can only cook like five things.”

“Would you like to cook dinner for seven?” you asked. She held up her hands and you rolled your eyes.

“To be fair, Colin still eats baby food,” she said.

“Thank you for volunteering to feed your nephew,” you said with a grin.

“I didn’t-”

“Ro!” he said as he waddled into the kitchen, wrapping her legs up in a hug.

“I hate you,” she said, narrowing her eyes before she picked him up.

“Thank you Arrow,” you said as she put him on her hip. “He’s got dinner in the fridge if you wouldn’t mind?”

“I got it,” she said, opening it up one handed. “Mom and dad have some last minute thing or something?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your phone ringing, Jared’s name popping up. “Can you get that?”

“Hey Uncle Jared,” she said, hitting it on speaker.

“Arrow? Hey you mind finding your sister for me?” he asked.

“She’s busy making dinner. Apparently it’s very difficult.”

“I’m here Jared,” you said. You grabbed the phone and shoved it between your shoulder and ear. “What’s up?”

“Don’t freak out,” he said. “But come outside.”

You turned down the heat on the stove and went out the front door, finding Jared on the seat out front.

“Uh, what’s up?” you asked, pulling the door shut behind you. “This is weird.”

“Your dad may have...listen. Shit went down when Jensen went up to see TJ’s dad whatever his fuckface name is.”

“Jared.”

“Oh you’re about to call him fuckface too.”

“What happened?”

“Well...he had a bad feeling about this whole thing. He and De went up there to talk to them. Things aren’t...your dad’s in the hospital.”

“What?” you said quietly. He stood up and gave you a smile, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay. He got a little cut when he got...pushed,” he said.

“Jared,” said TJ, stepping outside with a curious look. “What’s up dude?”

“Normally being the Uncle is the fun stuff,” he said. TJ frowned when you both saw a cop car pull into your driveway, Cody getting out. “Codes.”

“Dad, I got this,” he said as he hopped up on the porch. You smiled and looked back at TJ. “Oh shut up. I got adopted like six months ago. I might as well.”

“What exactly is happening?” asked TJ.

“Dad,” said Cody again. Jared sat back in the seat, Cody sighing. “TJ...dude I’m sorry. You’re like my brother.”

“Did my...did something happen to my parents,” he said quietly, Cody’s head shaking. “Oh.”

“Rick’s been stealing money from you. There’s no bookie to pay off. Jensen and De went up today to talk to him and they found out the truth and your dad’s got in a fist fight and you guys ought to head up North. It’s not my jurisdiction so I’m not much help.”

“My father did what?” said TJ. Cody glanced at you and you looked down. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” he said. “TJ the police from your hometown looked into it. He took the money. He’s claiming it was a gift from the two of you but we all know that’s not true.”

“No, he’s been making progress. We’ve been making progress. We’ve been getting along really well,” said TJ.

“Did that start when you started giving him money?” asked Cody.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying what I know as a cop. Did your relationship start changing when money started exchanging hands?”

“Why does he hate me,” said TJ. You grabbed his hand and he shut his eyes. “He must hate me. That’s the only reason I can see why he would do something like that.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” you said.

“He hates you and Jensen. He thinks De is eye candy to stare at. I don’t know how on earth he can pretend to like me,” he said.

“TJ,” said Jared.

“You gonna tell me he loves me or some shit? It’s not good enough,” said TJ.

“I was gonna say you can cut him out of your life if you want to and you’re still gonna have a dad you know. I don’t understand him. I do think he loves you but there’s some resentment towards everyone else you call family. I don’t know why but it’s your choice what you want to do. I’m gonna go inside and finish cooking dinner and we’ll watch all of them tonight. Y/N-”

“I got him,” you said with a nod.

Ten minutes later you were on the road and driving, TJ staring out the passenger window.

“Honey-”

“Don’t,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. You reached over and grabbed his hand, TJ squeezing it. “We’re going to my parents house after and we’re packing up as much crap as we can to bring back. I’m never speaking to him again after tonight.”

“TJ.”

“All the late hours I put in doing side jobs. All the jobs you’ve been doing for set design on the weekends. For months and months we’ve been doing it. Straight into his fucking pocket. We could have paid off the house with that money. Paid off bills. That’s our money. It’s our kids money. It’s not some sack of shit’s to go buy whatever he wants with. I could fucking kill him.”

“We’ll get it back,” you said.

“It’s not about the money.”

“I know, babe,” you said.

“Why is he like that?”

“It’s not an excuse but I think he was raised very poorly and he doesn’t...he knows it’s wrong but I think he thinks we have so much it’s okay if he takes from us.”

“He took two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from us. A year of side jobs for the both of us on top of everything else. We sleep four hours a night. We weren’t handed that. We worked for it. We worked our asses off. All that pressure and all the pressure we thought somebody would hurt him if we were late with money? I can’t believe I ever gave a shit about him. I should have trusted you. You’ve never liked him. No one in your family did. Even Arrow and that kid loves everybody. I should have trusted you guys.”

“TJ they didn’t like him because of the way he treated you, not me. I knew he was a dick when I met him but he belittles you, so, so much. We hate that he does that to you.”

“I don’t know how my mom is married to someone like him.”

“Don’t cut her out,” you said. “She raised you. You’re all her. Anyone who meets you can see that.”

“He’s going to lie when I see him again. I don’t know what to do,” he said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Because.” You pulled over and he sat back in his seat. He turned his head and you saw all the tears streaming down his face.

“Honey,” you said. You leaned over and hugged him, TJ gripping you back.

“He’d kick my ass for crying right now.”

“Who was it that sat up with my dad after the accident and let him cry all over him? My dad who hates to cry and he’s not afraid to cry in front of you.”

“He’s strong. I’m not.”

“You’re my best friend. The girl who thought she was so fucked up and would be alone. God, Thomas. You gave me something even my parents and family couldn’t. You know how I never thought in a million years I could have this kind of love and you were never scared. The insecurities. The nightmares. The days where I’m quiet and my head gets to me. You just grab my hand and you make it better. You’re stronger than most everyone on this planet. I love and I’ve loved you since I met you and I’ll do anything for you, you know that. We’re partners. If you want to give your dad another chance you can and I won’t question it for a second.”

“I don’t want to talk to him again,” he said, sitting up somewhat. “But how do I say that when you didn’t get a choice? You didn’t get a choice with your parents. They were just gone and you had no say. How can I just walk away like that?”

“My parents didn’t treat me like the way your father does. Neither of my moms or dads ever have. You can walk away from someone that does, TJ. I don’t want you near someone like that. Jared was right too you know. You’re not gonna lose a dad tonight. You’ve always had one and he’s gonna be there for you always.”

“He hurt Jensen, didn’t he?” he sniffled.

“I’m sure he's fine. He’s very...defensive of his children is all.”

“Jensen gave me a letter,” he said. “Addressed to me. That’s when I really knew he loved me.”

“He loved you before that.”

“I know he did. I don’t know why I wanted my dad when I’ve had Jensen the whole time.”

“I’ve been there. Trust me,” you said. He let out a small laugh and you hugged him, TJ taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry Rick hurt you.”

“He hurt both of us.”

“Yeah but I care more about the fact he hurt you. I may deck him when I see him,” you said.

“That’d be kinda awesome,” he said. “But please don’t.”

“Hugs instead?” you said.

“I’ll take hugs,” he said. His stomach grumbled and you kiss his temple.

“I’m gonna hit the drive thru and then we’ll get on the road again, okay honey?”

“Okay,” he said. You kissed him one last time before you got out of the car and dug around in the trunk. You took out your oversized hoodie and brought it up to the front, handing it to him. “What’s this?”

“You can steal it if you want. Your hoodie’s kinda make me feel better on crappy days,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said. “I really love you.”

“Me too. It’s gonna be okay.”

One Hour Later

“Let’s go to the hospital first,” said TJ as you hit the edge of town.

“Jared said my dad was fine.”

“Y/N. Let’s go to the hospital,” he said. You nodded and about ten minutes later you were parked and getting a room number. He held your hand on the elevator ride up, kissing the top of your head. “You alright?”

“I’d prefer if he could stay out of the hospital.”

“Me too,” he said, the doors opening. You walked a little too quickly until you found the room, your mom and dad talking as you walked in.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked.

“Jared and Cody came by and we learned some stuff,” you said. “Why are you in the hospital? You look...normal.”

“Your father hit his head.”

“I’m fine.”

“After the accident last year-”

“It was nearly a year ago.”

��After the accident they wanted to be safe and monitor overnight just in case. He got a cut on his arm from some metal but that’s all,” said your mom.

“I’m fine,” said your dad. He got up out of bed and spun around. “See? No concussion. An itty bitty scratch is all you worry worts.”

“Was there a fight?” you asked. He sat down and sighed. “You don’t look like it.”

“No,” he said. He looked at TJ and pursed his lips. “TJ would you mind grabbing me a drink from the vending machine?”

“Whatever you want to say, you’re gonna say it in front of me,” he said.

“Mom and I went up to your parents place and it started out okay. But your mom didn’t quite understand what was going on. She thought Rick had been doing well betting horses at a track and that’s where the sudden money came from. Things...devolved from there and Rick got defensive and I was angry so we started arguing and he shoved me and your mom and De shut it down and the cops came and I’m sorry but he took the money for himself. Last we heard from your mom a little while ago she’s giving all the money back to you guys.”

“You pressing charges?” asked TJ.

“It was a shove. He didn’t take my money. You two are the ones that have a right to charge him,” he said.

“Do you know where my mom is?” asked TJ.

“She’s at your house along with your dad,” he said.

“Y/N why don’t you hang here with your parents,” said TJ. You shook your head and he frowned. “You’re worried about your dad. Stay.”

“He’s okay and I’m coming with you,” you said.

“Me too,” said your mom.

“De-”

“TJ. You’re not gonna win this one,” she said. “Jensen’s okay on his own for a bit and he’d come if he could. You’re not gonna go talk to your dad alone.”

“Fine. Let’s go,” he said, already leaving the room. Your mom grabbed her purse and you ran your hands over your face.

“Go take care of him,” said your dad quietly.

“Dad.” You walked in front of him and he wrapped his arms around you. “He’s gonna be fucked up.”

“I know. We’ll take care of him,” he said. He kissed your temple and pushed you towards the door gently. “Go take care of your husband.”

“We’ll be back.”

“Guys I think maybe I should go in first,” said your mom a short while later, the three of you parked in his parent’s driveway.

“No,” said TJ.

“Thomas.”

“Danneel,” he said. He turned in the passenger seat and she sighed. “I’m a big boy. I can go in first.”

“Don’t be violent.”

“I won’t,” he said quietly. She kissed his cheek and nodded.

“Okay sweetie. Let’s get this over with,” she said. You got out and took his hand, TJ not as tense as you were expecting.

“His car isn’t here,” he said quietly on the way up the porch steps. He rang the doorbell and the door flew open, his mom standing there. “Hi mom.”

“I kicked him out for the night,” she said, letting the door open for the three of you. “I’m so sorry. Danneel is Jensen-”

“He’s pissed but fine,” said your mom, following you inside. TJ walked around for a moment, stopping at a picture on the wall.

“Mom. Why does dad hate me?” he asked. He looked over his shoulder and she frowned. “He manipulated me and Y/N. He’s horrible to her family. I get that he went through something as a kid but he’s a grown man.”

“Your father loves you. He doesn’t always know the best way to show it,” she said.

“He hurt me and you’re gonna side with him. Again,” he said.

“He made a mistake.”

“Hell of a mistake,” you mumbled.

“Do you think he wants to be the way he is?” she asked.

“I could have gotten past everything before but this? He doesn’t get to worm his way out of it. I’m done with him.”

“Then you’re gonna be done with me too,” she said. TJ turned around and she lifted her chin. “He doesn’t deserve to thrown out of your life over a mistake.”

“I seem to recall you not saying a word when he almost hit your grandaughter with a belt,” said TJ. “Why do you make excuses for him?”

“Why do you hate him?” she asked. TJ threw up his hands and shook his head. “Always since you were a little boy you’ve hated him.”

“He didn’t want me, not the other way around. I know he worked a lot but all I wanted when he came home at night was a hug or a bedtime story. I wasn’t asking for much,” said TJ. “He resented me.”

“He put in all those long hours for you, to provide for you.”

“I’ve been working since I was fourteen. I paid for my own things from the second I was able to. I paid for school all on my own. My apartment. My car. I paid for my wedding and honeymoon. He paid for food and roof over my head which is the bare minimum he could have done. Don’t tell me he provided for me. He fucking hated me.”

“Because you’re not his,” she said. You and your mom looked at one another, TJ blinking where he stood. “Rick isn’t your father.”

“Excuse me?”

“I cheated on your father because he can be an asshole and I needed an escape. He found out when I was pregnant.”

“Excuse me?” asked TJ again.

“He never wanted children because he thought he’d be a bad father. I guess he was right in your mind,” she said.

“If you’re gonna tell the story, you might as well tell the whole thing,” said Rick. He stepped out from down the hall, TJ’s mom sighing.

“So you are here,” said TJ.

“Car’s in the shop,” he said.

“You hate me?”

“I love you. It doesn’t mean I’m a good person though,” he said.

“You stole from us.”

“Yes I did.”

“Why?”

“This house is the size of your living room. You have so much.”

“If you wanted money just fucking ask,” said TJ.

“Like I said, just cause I love you doesn’t mean I’m a good person.”

“You’re not even my father apparently.”

“I’m your father,” he said. “Didn’t make ya but I’m your father.”

“What’s the story?” asked your mom. They all looked to her and she looked at TJ’s mom. “What don’t we know.”

“You ever wonder how someone like me wound up with someone like your mother? We’re polar opposites most days,” said Rick. TJ narrowed his eyes and looked between them.

“Don’t tell him,” said his mom.

“Alright,” said Rick. “I must have been mistaken.”

“TJ, can I talk to you,” you said, pulling him into the kitchen. “TJ do you remember in family studies when we had that project to track our family trees and you found your parents marriage certificate and the year was wrong?”

“Y/N what’s that got to do with anything.”

“What if the year wasn’t wrong.”

“It can’t be. They would have gotten married after I was born then.”

“TJ I’m not saying your dad is great but he just lied for your mom. He loves her. Something happened before you were born or after. I have this feeling that she didn’t cheat on him.”

“What are you saying?”

“Maybe I’m wrong but maybe your mom was in a bad situation and Rick stepped in to help because of her.”

“Rick,” said TJ, very quickly exiting back to the family room. “When did you meet my mom. If you ever want to speak to me again, if you want me to speak to her again, you’ll tell me the truth.”

Rick glanced to TJ’s mom, TJ smirking.

“You do care about her.”

“Of course I fucking care about her. I care about you too.”

“That’s great. I feel very cared for,” said TJ. Rick pursed his lips and his mom nodded. “Truth or I walk out that door and never come back.”

“I was married,” said TJ’s mom. “He was charming until he wasn’t. I got pregnant with you and you were born and he would get so angry at you for being a simple baby and crying and...I was so scared of him hurting you that I left. I had nothing and I stayed with a friend for a few days. I met Rick through them and he offered us a safe place to stay with him. It was only supposed to be short term but things developed. He is not perfect but he’s not the monster you think he is. We are safe and the reason you have all you do well and truly is because of him.”

“Do you have anything to say?” asked TJ quietly.

“I loved your mother before I loved you, that’s true. But I learned and I’ve done my best. You were far better off without me in your life. Look at what you have. You’d be angry and bitter if I had more of a hand in raising you. So you can hate me but you do not hurt your mother like that. You do not walk away from her after everything she has done for you. Understand me?”

“I need space from you,” said TJ, Rick nodding. “I also need something else.”

“What?”

“I still don’t understand why you took the money if you weren’t going to spend it.”

“Was gonna impress you, turn a profit on it, give it back with interest. Be like her father, give you some money for once.”

“Jensen doesn’t impress me because of money. Yes, their family doesn’t have to think twice about the cost of most anything. But Jensen, De, they don’t impress me for any reason other than how kind they’ve been to me. They treat me like their son, like I’m their own. They don’t pretend to. They don’t tolerate me for Y/N. They genuinely care about me, all because I fell in love with their daughter, a girl that’s not even theirs and they love her to death. The house is nice. The wedding was nice and so are the vacations. But I could live in a cardboard box and be happy if all I ever got was their kindness. They never made me work for it. They just gave it to me. You could have just given it to me and I would have been a happier kid. But you didn’t and now you have to work for it on my terms. So I want our money back and I want some space from you. If and when I’m ready to talk to you again, I’ll reach out. Alright?”

“Okay,” he said. TJ crossed his arms and nodded before he went outside. His mom followed after and you gave Rick a look. He pulled out his phone and tapped on it for a few moments before shoving it in his pocket. “It says it’s pending for that big of a transfer. It should be back in your account in a few days.”

“Oh I’ll make sure of that,” you said, walking over to him. “Rick. Maybe try some therapy if you really want to salvage this relationship.”

“You think I can afford that?” he said.

“We’ll pay,” said your mom. “Jensen and I will.”

“Why?”

“Cause he’s a fucking awesome kid and he deserves a relationship with you, even if we don’t like you,” she said.

“What about you? You hate me too kid?” he asked you.

“I can learn to tolerate and respect you. But you hurt him and I’ll protect him from anyone that does that, including you. But it’s not my forgiveness you need. It’s his so maybe try the therapy and let him come back if he’s ever ready for that, okay?”

“Alright.” You turned to go when he caught your shoulder. “Can I ask where the money came from? Jensen made it sound like you were behind on bills.”

“It made things tight for us. TJ and I have both been working side jobs nights and weekends to scrounge up extra money. We weren’t handed any of that money we gave you. We even took from ourselves and our children. Just because we live in a nice house doesn’t mean we don’t work for it,” you said. “Oh and one more thing. Touch my father again or call my mom slutty behind her back one more time, you’ll find out which one of us isn’t the good person in this relationship.”

“He what…” said your mom as you walked out, pulling her along behind you. “Dickhead!”

“Come on mom,” you said, pushing her back to the car. TJ gave his mom a nod and hug before he climbed back into the backseat.

“Slut my ass,” your mom mumbled under breath as she started the car back up.

“Mom, let it go,” you said, shutting your eyes and slumping down in your seat.

“Put on your seatbelt,” she said. You reached up and put it on, turning back to catch TJ with his head leaned back. “You okay back there?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“That’s probably the right answer,” you said.

“Let’s get back to dad. I’m sure he’s climbing the walls to get out of there by now.”

Two Days Later

“Howdy,” said your dad, taking a seat in the patio chair beside you as you watched TJ swim in your pool with Allie. “Where’s the babe?”

“Naptime,” you said, TJ tossing Allie up in the air and hugging her tight when he caught her again.

“How’s he holding up?” he asked, reaching over and taking a chip out of the bag in front of you.

“Better than expected. He’ll give Rick another chance someday.”

“He said that?”

“No. I know Thomas though. He’s too good to hold onto that crap. It might not be for six months or a year but it’ll happen eventually.”

“Well I think he’s a dick,” said your dad. “But if TJ wants to give him a chance, we’ll give him a chance.”

“Thanks for being his dad too,” you said.

“I love the kid,” he said, throwing his arm over your shoulders. “So what are you two gonna do with all that money?”

“Pay off the last of the lawyer fees, pay off a big chunk of what’s left on the mortgage. When that set design comes in then we won’t owe too much more on the house,” you said. “Speaking of which, I gotta go to work on it.”

“Y/N? Use some of that money and take a nice vacation with the kids. Or even just a long weekend away for you and TJ.”

“We really ought to use it for stuff like the house,” you said.

“Have you and TJ ever taken a vacation just the two of you?”

“Of course. We went on our honeymoon.”

“That doesn’t count. The answer’s no, isn’t it.”

“Dad, I don’t need-”

“Maybe you don’t but somebody in that pool needs to have some fun. Plan a little trip away next month,” he said.

“He’s always wanted to go to Mardi Gras,” you said with a smile.

“You guys would have a blast and I got some pull down there and all. Come on. Let me spoil my grandkids for a weekend.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve convinced me,” you said.

“You mind if the twins have dinner with you guys?”

“We’re actually going to the Pads for dinner. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind more though. You got a hot date?”

“Getting a private college tour with mom and JJ,” he said. “Ya’ll can stop growing up anytime you want you know.”

“She wants to live at home you know.”

“Really?”

“Contrary to her teenage angst as of late, she does love us. Just you know, drop the curfew like you did with me.”

“And we get texts when you stay out.”

“That’s what you thought,” you mumbled. He raised an eyebrow and you shrugged. “I let you know when I wouldn’t be home that night. You didn’t need to know my exact whereabouts.”

“When’s the first time you stayed over TJ’s?”

“Fall of Freshman year in his dorm,” you said.

“Never mind. I don’t need to know,” he said.

“Yup. Let her have fun when she gets there, she’s smart,” you said. “Plus you know she’ll call me if shit happens. Also she has a year and a half of high school left. Relax.”

“At least I know Tom will keep an eye on her too.”

“Already planning the wedding?” you smirked.

“Shut up,” he said, ruffling your hair. “Make sure he gets this.”

He dug into his back pocket and took out an envelope, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you said quietly. “Dad?”

“Mhm,” he said as he stood.

“Can you invite him on your fishing trip this weekend with grandpa?”

“Already did,” he said, nodding down at the envelope. “I’ll talk to you soon, tall munchkin.”

“Later dad,” you said, TJ giving him a wave as he headed out. You left the letter on the patio table and went over to the pool, slipping into the shallow end.

“Everything good?” he asked.

“Yeah. My dad left you a letter,” you said, Allie swimming off on her own, doing circles around TJ. He nodded and got out of the pool, drying off some before he went to the table and sat down. “Time for a snack.”

You scooped her up and swung her around in the water, throwing her up your hip. You walked out with her, setting her down to dry her off some.

“Is daddy okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Why don’t you change back into some clothes and we’ll get Colin and snack time going.”

She rushed over to TJ and smiled up at him, TJ tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Daddy snack time!” she said.

“I’ll be inside in just a minute, sweetie,” he said. He leaned over and kissed her head, pushing her back towards you. You patted her inside, TJ rubbing his thumb over his lip as he read.

“Take your time, babe,” you said. You kissed his cheek and he nodded. “I’ll leave some tissues just inside the door in case.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Take all the time you need. I got these two,” you said. He nodded and smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Y/N.”

_________

A/N: Read the First Summer Timestamp here!

#supernatural #tell me a story bingo #spn #jensen ackles #jensen x daughter!reader #rpf #au #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #jensen x

277 notes · View notes

hexandbalances · 4 years ago

Link

BEER HAS BEEN AN ESSENTIAL aspect of human existence for at least 4,000 years—and women have always played a central role in its production. But as beer gradually moved from a cottage industry into a money-making one, women were phased out through a process of demonization and character assassination.

It’s telling that the oldest-known beer recipe comes from a Sumerian hymn to the goddess of beer, Ninkasi. It also includes a description of how the fermented beverage was made in ancient times:

[…]It is you who bake the beerbread in the big oven, and put in order the piles of hulled grain. Ninkasi, it is you who bake the beerbread in the big oven, and put in order the piles of hulled grain. It is you who soak the malt in a jar; the waves rise, the waves fall. Ninkasi, it is you who soak the malt in a jar; the waves rise, the waves fall. It is you who spread the cooked mash on large reed mats; coolness overcomes. Ninkasi, it is you who spread the cooked mash on large reed mats; coolness overcomes [....]

Sumerian women brewed low-alcohol beer for religious ceremonies (including ones dedicated to Ninkasi) as well as for daily food rations. Ancient Egyptians worshipped a beer goddess named Tenenet, and hieroglyphics have been found depicting women brewing and drinking beer. Baltic and Slavic mythology both include a goddess, named Raugutiene, who provided protection over beer. And the Finnish told of a legendary woman named Kalevatar who invented beer by mixing honey with bear saliva.

Egyptian hieroglyphics depict women pouring beer. PUBLIC DOMAIN

The image of the woman as ale-maker persisted well into the Middle Ages, moving from a sacred role to an everyday necessity of homemaking, historically typified as “women’s work.” Water in cities was unsanitary, at times bringing with it deadly diseases. But the process of fermentation created a sterile drink, so beer was considered a safer option. Most ale was very low-alcohol level, while more potent ales were reserved for special occasions such as holidays and weddings. So even before the year 1500, nearly all women in England knew how to brew.

Making beer is difficult and time-consuming in any age. But given that a typical medieval family of five might have needed roughly 9 gallons of beer to subsist per week, and said beer spoiled quickly, women had to get creative. They then began sharing the workload with friends and neighbors, a system that often involved one woman making extra each week to sell to other households. As this culture of shared work evolved, some women in England began making ale more professionally, with some providing a constant flow of it for sale. Occasionally, these women might open makeshift bars located in their own homes, where people could sit together and drink. And so the term “alewife” (or “brewster”) emerged, referring to a woman who brewed beer for a small profit.

Professional brewsters and alewives had several means of identifying themselves and promoting their businesses. They wore tall hats to stand out on crowded streets. To signify that their homes or taverns sold ale, they would place broomsticks—a symbol of domestic trade—outside of the door. Cats often scurried around the brewsters’ bubbling cauldrons, killing the mice that liked to feast on the grains used for ale.

If all of this sounds familiar, it’s because this is all iconography that we now associate with witches. While there’s no definitive historical proof that modern depictions of witches were modeled after alewives, some historians see uncanny similarities between brewsters and anti-witch propaganda. One such example exists in a 17th-century woodcut of a popular alewife, Mother Louise, who was well-known in her time for making excellent beer.

Mother Louise, a popular alewife. FÆ / CC BY 4.0

While the relationship between alewives and witch imagery has still yet to be proven, we do know for sure that alewives and brewsters had a bad reputation from the jump. Beyond the cheating that some of their counterparts engaged in, brewsters also had to deal with the bad rap their entire gender suffered because of original sin. “The ale trade was (and is) filled with trickery—poor ale substituted for good, pint measures that were just a bit too small, inflated prices, and of course, inebriated customers who found they’d been robbed or cheated,” explains Dr. Judith Bennet, author of Ale, Brewsters, and Beer in England: Women’s Work in a Changing World 1300-1600. “For medieval people, it was easy to link these deceptions with women. Were not women, as daughters of Eve, naturally more deceptive and wicked than men? By such logic, any alewife, no matter how friendly and open, was suspected of being a secret swindler.”

The medieval Church was also not a fan of brewsters. They saw these early female entrepreneurs as temptresses who used their wiles to get pious men drunk and spend money. The Church also saw alehouses as playgrounds for the devil, where the cardinal sins of gluttony and lust ruled supreme.

Furthermore, as Bennet notes, one of the most iconic images of feminine evil in the Middle Ages was that of the alewife in hell: The Church specifically taught that alewives would be the only people left in hell after Christ freed all the damned. “Enacted in plays, drawn on the walls of parish churches, and carved into wood, it was a fate that medieval people imagined with resentful glee,” Bennet details.

The Church equated alewives with damnation. PROJECT GUTENBERG

Brewsters’ bad reputation didn’t help their case when wealthier, more socially-connected men started taking up the trade. After the devastation of the Black Plague, people began drinking a lot more ale, doing so in public alehouses instead of at home. This also marked a shift in people’s relationship with beer, which moved from being just a necessity and occasional indulgence to something closer to what we have today. Men suddenly saw they could make a real profit off of what was once seen as a semi-lucrative side gig for women. So they built taverns that were bigger and cleaner than the makeshift ones that alewives provided, and people flocked to them to revel and conduct business alike. Over time, alewives grew to be seen not only as tricky, but also dirty and their beer unsanitary.

Women continued to make low-alcohol ale for their family’s daily consumption after the Industrial Revolution increased production methods, which made buying beer cheaper and easier than making it at home. But that died in the 1950s and 1960s, when marketing campaigns branded beer as a “manly drink.” Companies such as Schlitz, Heineken, and Budweiser depicted beer as a means of unwinding after a long day of work, often featuring women serving their suited-up husbands cold bottles of brew.

That’s been a factor in why the contemporary brewing industry is a notorious boy’s club, but the craft beer industry has helped moved the needle a bit: A 2014 Auburn University study found that women represented 29% of all brewery workers. It seems that the brewing industry has taken a circuitous route, moving away from small homebrewing methods to large-scale production, and back again. These days, the sky’s the limit for brewsters. They don’t even have to ride broomsticks to get there.

Recommended additional reading: How Women Brewsters Saved the World by Tara Nurin

#it is no coincidence that the witchcraze of Europe was worst in Germany began in 1500 and the beer purity law enacted in 1516 #beer brewing #atlas obscura #feminist witch #feminism #witchblr #women's history #history of beer #divine female #goddess worship #hildegard von bingen #ninkasi #tenenit #brewster #craft beer #witch history

187 notes · View notes

hit-me-with-a-ladle · 3 years ago

Text

Ch. 8 Creepypastas x Fem! reader

Sorry I've been gone for so long. My grandfather died a month ago and I wasn't in the right mindset to write. But I'm back and ill do my best. Thank you all for your patients. Anyway, enjoy<3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the week progressed, the girl found that it was the slightest bit easier to read through Masky's facade. Though that did not mean that she could thoroughly read him quite yet, she made it a challenge that eventually she would. Masky himself became lenient at first as to mind her injuries. But the moment she started to heal, it was all back to the ruthless nature of his work. Finally, when the week ended, she got informed that someone else was going to teach her. That person turned out to be Ben, the blond-headed boy that seemed too eager to meet her.

An early sensation lurked in the air the moment she woke up, groggily walking to the bathroom and taking a well-deserved shower. The feeling of all of the previous days' dirt and grime washing off her punctured flesh was refreshing. Her mind was finally clear, able to freely think and dwell on her current predicament without any outside interference. The hot water trickled down her naked body, soothing her as she thought of any way she could escape. But no matter how hard she thought, deep down she knew that the only way she could truly leave was to stay a little longer to devise a plausible plan.

Sadness overtook her body, hot tears streaming down her already wet face intertwining with the water droplets from the showerhead. She'd been able to withhold her tears for a while now, not wanting to give those bastards the satisfaction. But as her current position set in her mind once more, she couldn't hold it in. It was like a never-ending loop. After being rudely introduced and forced to spend a week being trained to the bone by two different killers, she had to repeat the process with another. It felt like her own personal hell.

Feeling the scalding hot water turn cold was an indicator that it was time to get ready. Not giving a damn if she was late. Stepping out of the shower with a huff, she looked at herself in the full-body mirror. Steam covered its surface from head to toe. Though, no matter how blurry, the rough outline of all the large scars, cuts and a few red bruises that littered her body were still very much visible. The feeling and texture of her once somewhat clear skin was now a distant memory in her mind. Slowly tracing all of the scars with the tip of the rugged fingers she winced when she made contact with a few of the most recent injuries.

Getting dressed in the same greyish jump-suit she has been washing and wearing for the last few days, she went to eat breakfast. But before leaving her bedroom she looked at the nightstand, there laid the old pocket watch he gave her. For some reason, he didn't want to take it when she offered it back. Shrugging her shoulders she put it in her right pocket and headed downstairs. Reaching the kitchen, noticing that Masky must have left early. Not paying any mind to his disappearance she carried on with her day. Eating the meal she prepared for herself. Sitting there on the dining table, in total silence, patiently staring at the clock. Ben still hadn't arrived. He was already ten minutes late, to begin with, which was a significant tonal shift from Masky, who was extremely punctual and despised tardiness. After what felt like hours, a loud crash was heard that made the girl's ears perk up as she ran to the living room. Their laying spread eagle, on the front of the old television, was none other than Ben.

" What happened, how did you get in here?" The girl quickly said while helping him up. " Dammit, forgot how small the damn television was." He said under his breath, ignoring her previous question. Getting on his feet he brushed himself off giving the girl a better look. Unlike the other two men, he was significantly shorter, 162 to 165 cm or 5'4-5'5 feet tall. Medium length golden hair under a long green hat and sharp pointy elf-like ears. His pale white skin looked ceramic, almost like a doll's and thin lips with a button nose. He seemed considerably young, but she assumed that he most likely was about eighteen years of age. Though, what caught her attention were his round black eyes that had a speck of red in them that acted as pupils. He was dressed as an elf, with his bright green tunic, forest green pants and leather belt neatly tied around his waist that held a small satchel type bag.

Looking in her direction he flashed her a creepy smile that showed off his white teeth. The girl didn't know how to react to his sudden action, as she felt discomfort all around her body, shifting her weight awkwardly she chose to ask him again. " How the hell did you manage to get in here without me hearing you?" " Well, I did the same thing I'm gonna' be teaching you today. Sorcery or magic. Whatever word floats your boat." " Magic? As in witchcraft, like spells and potions?" " Yup. I mean I know Jack already told you this so I don't know why you're so shocked." He snickered, it sounded distorted. " Yeah, I remember but I didn't actually expect-not that I didn't think that it would be magic-it is just that this is all so strange, I can't believe it." " Believe it, cuz I'm gonna' be teaching ya some spells. Follow me now out the back door." He spoke loudly, shaking his hands in a flamboyant manner.

Walking swiftly to the kitchen towards the back door. The girl was visibly confused as she followed suit. Why did they have to go through the back door, it was all quite strange. Stepping out, she noticed the rather large, wooden table a few meters in front of them. Its surface is covered in all kinds of trinkets, herbs and plants. " What's all of this for?" She said, approaching the table. "I got Masky to set it up before he left, we're gonna be needing some of this stuff so I can show you the ropes and basically help you understand the basics of making potions. A skill you'd need for survival." He answered while picking up a bunch of the items off the table and stuffing them in the bag. " Oh, what do we have here?" He said excitedly under his breath " Is it Raskovnik? My god it is. I know what i'll be teaching you first now, don't I. '' He started with a laugh as he made his way towards the trees. " Where are we going now?" " To the brewery. Do you really think you will be making risky positions in front of the cabin? You humans are actually the dumbest creatures."

The girl's face scrunched up in annoyance but still kept her mouth shut. She knew better than to try and argue with these people. Biting down on her tongue she got drawn in by the scenery like most times she was out in the forest. Autom was soon approaching so the wind had started to pick up the past few days, it made the multicoloured leaves on the trees dance as it passed. It calmed her as it passed through her body. Taking in a large breath she smiled and carried on behind Ben. Dogging trees and branches as there was no pathway in this part of the forest.

" Did you get the plant?" Ben spoke up after a while, cutting the calm silence. " Sorry, what?" " Were you the one that got the Raskovnik?" He repeated the question louder. " Oh, well yeah. I got it a while back as a part of my training with Masky." She replied quickly walking to his side. " Figures. Maskys is the type to make others do his dirty work." He muttered bitterly. But the girl was still able to hear it. " So you have a bad relationship with him?" " You could say that. Most of us do. The scumbag." The air started to tense. " I guess you could call him that. But he's not always that bad, he has his moments I guess." " Not that bad? Tell me, how did you manage to get that big ass gash on your neck." He harshly replied, pointing his leather-gloved hand to her neck. She quickly covered it and looked to the side. Not responding. " As I said, he's an absolute scumbag." " Well if it isn't stepping over a boundary, mind telling me why he's so bad." " Well, to begin with, he's a sadistic prick that only cares for himself. He broke into my house and stole some of the VERY rear herbs that took me YEARS to collect. And worst of all, he's the dog of The Operator." His face darkened when he mentioned The Operator's name. " The Operator? Whos that?" The girl quickly asked, lowering her hand and looking at him with a confused look on her face. " He's one of the most powerful beings to even exist. The embodiment of evil." " So like the devil?" " No, he's not the devil, the devil is a different being, but he's still terrifying." " Why do they call him The Operator then?" " Well, like. I don't really know how to explain this to you but, imagine this forest being a very large city. Y’know how every city has a mayor or someone in charge that leads it. Well, that's what The Operator really is. The Operator isn't his real name but a nickname given to him."

With that they finally stepped into a small grass filled clearing where in the middle, was a very small cottage covered in vines, plants and flowers. The old wood that it was made of was held up the multitude of plants, securing it firmly. The half-rounded door was nicely placed in the front, a yellow brick pathway leading to it, with a square window to the side. They quickly approached the door, the girl's breath taken by the beauty. The inside itself was small, shelves were on every side of the walks, each holding a plethora of books, trinkets, herbs and plants. It was relatively messy but still easy to walk in. A cauldron was in the middle of the room with a desk stacked with papers, pens, and scrolls.

Placing the Rascovnik and emptying his bag on the desk, Ben looked at the girl. " So let's begin I guess." He said walking to the medium-sized cauldron. " What are we going to do exactly?" She quickly asked as her eyes followed him, as he walked around the cottage collecting different ingredients and placing them on the desk. " Well, you're not going to be doing anything, just taking notes." Tossing a notepad at her. " While I prepare something and explain the different things you'll need to know." " Yeah that's great but am I going to be quizzed the same way Masky quizzed me because I need to know what I should expect." She said frantically, firmly grasping the notepad to her chest. " Nah, you're not. I don't do quizzes or tests, I like doing things spontaneously y'know. And plus taking notes will help you understand things more, so just write down herb and spell names, important details and whatever else will help ya remember. K?" " Ok, I guess." Anxiety began to dwell in her mind, as she looked around. " Readdy?" He said walking in front of the cauldron, giving her a slightly crooked reassuring smile.

33 notes · View notes

thorns-and-rosewings · 3 years ago

Text

A Perfect Day

Alright then here is the next installment for the Owl House / Gargoyles Crossover, the Stoneheart AU! I am also going to say this particular entry is also my submission for Day 13 of Beloctober 'Soft Moments' because... yeah this is a chapter for soft, good dad Belos with young Hunter.

Enjoy! :)

All of the meetings Belos had on this day had run far longer than they were supposed to…

At this point he was practically bleeding agitation. He had been in one meeting after another all day… All freaking day… He wasn’t proud to admit it, but while listening to the head of the Healers Coven explain how they had changed up their entrance exam criteria in order to ensure that they only accepted the best candidates, he nodded off. Much to his dismay when he managed to rouse himself from his impromptu nap, he found that not a lot of progress had been made in explaining the details of the changes. So catching up was disturbingly easier than it should have been after having been unconscious for over an hour.

One by one, all the other Coven Heads and some of the more elite members of their sect came before Belos and gave their reports of any changes they were making to their enrollment programs or anything else that would be beneficial in the long run to the stability of life on the Boiling Isles. Which had led him to the final meeting of the day and the one that was taking the longest by far… Courtesy of the Potions Coven. After the basic drivel explaining a few moderate changes they were making to their initiation process, the rest of the meeting was taken up by the Coven Head explaining the arduous steps they were taking to crack down on the illegal absinthe brewery a few wayward members of the coven had begun… A truly fancy way of saying they still had no clue who was responsible for brewing what had easily become the vilest alcohol on all the Isles. One that had been rather appropriately dubbed the ‘Green Devil’ by the individuals who partook in it.

And yet Belos couldn’t truly bring himself to care one way or another… as it was the unique nature of this particular day, which was why Belos so desperately wanted it to be over and done with. But by the Titan, of course that would mean everything would run late. In fact, it was nearly dawn by the time the meeting concluded. Honestly, at times like this Belos simply loathed being Emperor... But alas he didn’t have a choice in the matter, did he? Once the Coven Head and his entourage had left, Belos dismissed his guards and was finally free to return to his private chambers.

As he walked silently through the dark halls, he slipped his hand into one of the pockets of his tunic and traced a clawed finger over a small box that had been delivered to him during one of the brief intermissions between the meetings. It was something that he’d ordered several weeks ago, but due to some… unforeseen circumstances, it had only been completed and delivered earlier in the day.

‘Better late than never.’ He growled internally. ‘The delay nearly interfered with my plans.’ Something he made certain to convey to the trembling and deeply apologetic craftsman when he delivered it. Belos had harshly warned him that if he was ever to receive business from the Emperors Coven again, and that was a very big if, he had better complete his work during the previously agreed timeframe... As Belos could’ve cared less whatever life-threatening troubles the man had endured which had taken him away from completing the item the Emperor had ordered. That was his problem, not Belos’s.

Upon opening the grand doors to his private chambers, he was struck with just how quiet everything was. This was definitely an uncommon occurrence, as usually he could hear voices coming from at least one of the multitude of rooms in his wing. It was very rarely like this. Still, he had no reason to be concerned about it and he walked quietly into his own room. All the while becoming aware of the feeling he was being watched from the shadows. Once he was in his room he wordlessly took off his mask and went over to the hooks on the walls and locked the heavy prosthetics into them. Before slipping the remains of his wings free… But no sooner had he done so, did he hear a low growling hiss before something suddenly leapt out from under his bed and jumped onto his tail and clung to it while also making small sounds that came off more as squeaks than actual roars.

“I got you dad!” Came the giggling voice of Hunter as he looked up from where he was clinging to his father’s tail. His brilliant red eyes shining up at him with a mischievous joy. Even in the dim light of Belos’s room it was easy to tell that Hunter’s skin tone was considerably healthier in appearance than his fathers, his platinum hair was in disarray. Clearly it had been brushed at one point but the energetic activity the child no doubt indulged in had disheveled it. As was also evident with his golden colored tunic and the black pants that were covered in a fine layer of dust. Not to mention the white feathers on his only wing were slightly grayed at the ends where they had also collected even more dust.

Effortlessly Belos wrapped his tail around his son and brought him up to his chest before taking the small child in his arms and giving him a tight hug… but not too tight. “That you did my fierce little Hunter.” He chuckled addressing his son with the favorite nickname he’d long since given him. “I know that I am late in returning, but please tell me that you weren’t hiding in wait for me all night?”

As if on cue, Kiki stormed into Belos’s bedroom with a peeved look written clearly in her one visible eye, as she looked at the child in the Emperors arms and glared at him while tapping her clawed foot. “There you are you little scamp!” She growled. “I’ve been looking for you for nearly an hour! I was afraid that you went out into the other parts of the castle again!”

“No Auntie Kiki,” Hunter answered in a singsong voice as he laughed at the irritated house demon. “I said I wanted to play hide and seek… I just hid really well.”

“Oh you frustrating boy!” She seethed before casting her eyes to Belos. “And what do you have to say to this? Your son has been giving me heart palpitations all night!”

For a few moments Belos didn’t say anything, before he looked at the child in his arms with a very stern expression. “You managed to avoid Kiki for an entire hour?” He said just as a mischievous grin of his own appeared on his face erasing all of the seriousness he’d held just moment prior. “That’s very impressive for such a little gargoyle.”

“Oh don’t you go encouraging him! That’s the last thing I need to deal with!” She said throwing her hands up as she exaggerated her indignation. “At this rate he’ll never sit still for his lessons again!” With a great sense of timing, Hunter stuck his tongue out at his Auntie… Who in a rare moment of not acting her considerable age, pulled the collar of her uniform down and stuck her own tongue right back at him.

Ever since the day of his birth, Kiki had always been a part of Hunters life. In honesty she was the only other person whom the child interacted with aside from his father. She was also the only soul who knew the truth about the father and son duo… and she remembered it as if it was just yesterday, how Belos was when Hunter was born. How from the very moment that child came into his life, he loved him. So even though he spent every day being the cruel Emperor to the people of the Boiling Isles… every night he spent tending and taking care of his son, giving him love and affection. It had worried Kiki as he was pretty much burning the candle at both ends. He spent his days as Emperor and his nights as a single father. Leaving himself so little time to rest… And even when he did manage to sleep, Kiki knew that he rarely enjoyed sleep that was free of nightmares.

On the rare instance when Kikimora had finally managed to convince Belos to rest for an evening, Hunter would simply run her ragged as she chased him all around the private quarters. Reasons usually varied from him trying to avoid taking a bath, to trying to avoid putting on clothes after having taken one, or simply wanting to just drive her crazy. Point being the little child was full of energy and life and, even though he could certainly push her buttons, Kikimora loved him. She could also tell he was going to grow to be a very good and kind person…

One particular memory that had cemented her belief on just what kind of person Hunter would be when he grew up was made on one of the nights where Kiki was watching him. The little terror was the equivalent of a five-year-old and he was being less than cooperative when it came to eating the vegetables in the meal she had prepared for him. All he wanted to do was see his father, something he voiced continually… But this was one of the days where Belos couldn’t even manage to see his son wake from his stone sleep, since he was completely run into the ground and almost had to crawl to get into his bed just a few short hours prior. Thus why she was tending Hunter alone that night, but the little boy wasn’t behaving for his Auntie.

Kiki had tried to explain that his father needed to sleep or he would get sick, and she had turned around for just one moment to put several dishes into the sink of the small kitchenette in the private chambers… when she turned back she only caught a glimpse of Hunter disappearing down a hallway, sprinting towards his father’s room.

Kiki swore, Belos desperately needed to rest and if Hunter woke him up, she knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep… She chased after Hunter, but by the Titan that child was fast. So fast he beat her to Belos’s room and he opened the door with a surprising amount of care, making sure to be extremely quiet as he walked in. Kiki got to the door immediately afterwards and froze up as she watched little Hunter tiptoeing his way into the room where his father lay on his bed. He was still in his robes, but his mask was discarded on the floor. Although Belos was asleep it didn’t seem to be a very peaceful one, judging by the rapid movement behind his eyelids and the twitching of his hands and tail as he slept. Kiki watched in horror as the child drew closer to his sleeping father, but… only then did she notice that Hunter held tightly in his hands his stuffed cardinal. It was the child’s favorite toy and he carried it with him everywhere, ever since he received it on his third birthday. With the utmost care, Hunter placed the little stuffed bird in the crook of his father’s arm and carefully pulled himself up onto the side of the bed just enough to give his dad a little kiss on the cheek before quietly slipping out of the bedroom.

Having only wanted to help his father have a better night of sleep and believing his stuffed cardinal and a kiss would’ve done just that…

That was the only time Kiki had ever excused Hunter from eating his vegetables and gave him a small bowl of his favorite ice cream instead…

“All right settle down both of you.” Belos chided as Hunters smile suddenly faded as he looked up at his father.

“Why were you so late tonight?” He questioned. “It’s almost dawn and I didn’t see you at all! You took forever!”

“I’m sorry little one, but my meetings ran late tonight.” He explained as he quietly walked over to the great glass double doors which led out onto his own private part of the castle’s balcony with Kiki now walking next to him, somehow matching his pace. “But we do have a little bit of time before sunrise. And we both know what tomorrow is, now don’t we?” Immediately the smile that had disappeared from Hunter’s face returned, possibly even broader than it was before.

“It’s my birthday!” The child declared.

“That’s right, you’re going to be turning eight.” Belos confirmed. Although technically Hunter was 16 years old at the moment. This was because gargoyles naturally aged at half the rate of witches and some species of demons. Due to them only being flesh at night and only being able to grow during that time. It was because of this discrepancy in their aging that a gargoyle would only celebrate their birthday once every two years. However… there was a way to negate this; special talismans could be created that would keep a gargoyle awake during the day. When these were given to young gargoyles they would seemingly age faster than normal, thus becoming more aligned with the growth rate of other species. It could even be applied to gargoyle eggs, the talismans allowing for them to be born in five years rather than the usual ten they naturally needed to incubate. However, upon reaching adulthood that rapid aging would seemingly dissipate and allow for a gargoyles normal aging rate to return… once again being half the rate of other species.

Why this occurred was anyone’s guess, but they all had the same effect and there was yet to be a sun talisman which didn’t display this curious trait… and rapid aging aside, gargoyles that had carried these talismans with them throughout their entire lives were said to live every bit as long as gargoyles who did not carry them. But Belos had not wanted that for Hunter. He refused to age him prematurely, as he had wanted his son to have a normal childhood… Or at least as close to normal as he could hope to provide. Of course, it was more than a little likely that Belos’s real reasoning for not allowing Hunter to grow quickly was because he could only tend to Hunter during the night due to his often-busy schedule as Emperor taking up his days. He didn’t want Hunter to grow up to quickly and have not spent enough time with him.

Even though there were gargoyle families whom gave these talismans to their children, should they be able to afford them, there were just as many who chose to not let their offspring use them until they were older for the exact same reasoning as Belos. So, he felt no guilt in his decision to let Hunter age slower.

The great glass doors of the balcony opened without Belos needing to touch them and without ever slowing his stride he walked out into the cool night air, which felt refreshing as he inhaled it deeply into his lungs. Such a sharp contrast to the often-stagnant air which filled the castle. Hunter seemed to feel it to and mimicked his father’s deep calming breath. His one singular wing stretching slightly outwards and flapping somewhat. A sad sight considering there was no way for the child to ever be able to fly on his own due to this deformity. The Emperor walked over to the side of the balcony and he and Hunter looked out at the dark world before them. Kiki wordlessly tugged on Belos’s tail and in a motion that was obviously deeply ingrained in him, he wrapped his tail around her and picked her up and placed her on the rail that surrounded the balcony. Allowing her to also get a decent view of the world just beyond the castle. “Now Hunter,” Belos began drawing his son’s attention back to him. “What would you wish for on your birthday?”

Of course he already knew the answer.

It was the same wish he made on every one of his birthdays.

Hunters smile faltered a little bit before it abruptly came back and he closed his eyes as he grinned up at the elder gargoyle that still held him so carefully in his arms. “I’d wish for you to spend the whole day with me... and…” He trailed off as his gaze again returned to the horizon. “Maybe to see what’s outside the castle?”

Belos smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a black box with a golden bow tied neatly on its top and placed it in Hunter’s little hands. “Well before we address that, how about you open this present early. I think you might find it particularly to your liking.” As any child presented with a gift, Hunter eagerly untied the bow and opened the box. To which he was greeted with the sight of a smooth golden stone about roughly the size of one of the decorative jewels witches would adorn themselves with. With wide glittering eyes he took it from the box, revealing it to be on a long ornate golden chain. As soon as he touched the stone, a strange red energy began to pulse from deep within its center. And then it began to swirl and dance just beneath the gems surface.

“Wow!” Hunter whispered as he watched the crimson energy form spiral like patterns. “It’s so pretty!”

“Oh there’s a little bit more to this present than just being a pretty trinket.” And with that Belos took the necklace from Hunter’s hands and draped it around the boys neck. Hunter looked up at him a little confused.

“Does it do something?” He questioned innocently.

“You’ll see in time.” Was his father’s rather straightforward reply and Belos turned his head back towards the horizon. “But would you look at that, sunrise is only a few moments away.” He commented as the first light of dawn began to creep into the sky and Hunter turned to look at it knowing he would be turning to stone at any second…

But the sunrise came…

And the child remained flesh and blood.

Belos may not have wanted his son to age prematurely, but he could certainly accept one day in the sun together as an exception.

At first it didn’t really register to Hunter exactly what was happening as he watched the golden orb paint the world before him in the colors of day. But as it steadily rose, Hunters young eyes remained completely transfixed on the light pouring over the world around the castle. Large red eyes just going wider and wider and after a few minutes the sun rose high enough for its warm radiant light to spill over both father and son. Little Hunter then just closed his eyes for a moment, basking in the warmth before reopening them and looking at his father with an expression mixed with shock, confusion and wonder.

“Happy birthday Hunter.” Belos said as he planted a small kiss atop his son’s head. “It’s high time that I honored your birthday wish, but I wanted to make sure that I honored it properly.” He explained. “And it also seemed like a good time as any for your first glimpse of the sun.” There were no words in any known language that could convey the look of sheer joy that appeared on Hunter’s face and he abruptly jumped up and wrapped his arms around Belos’s neck.

“Thank you! Thank you dad!” He whispered as he hugged him with all the strength he had in his small body. “Thank you so much!”

Belos simply patted the boys small back and glanced over at Kikimora. “You are certain that you can handle everything?”

“Yes, yes, yes I can handle things here.” The small demon said as she seemed to pull a good-sized satchel out of thin air. “Here, I packed you both lunch and some money. Now get yourself ready Belos. You can’t just go out in your formal robes.”

The Emperor blinked in confusion for a moment before he glanced down at his distinctive white, brown and gold robes and realized Kiki made a very good point. So he placed Hunter down on the railing and removed his grand robe neatly folding it up and handing it over to Kikimora, just wearing the simple grey and black tunic and pants he always wore beneath it. After which he materialized his mechanical staff and held it up; the red orb emanating its ominous crimson light. Once again the doors to his balcony opened, only this time there was a brief pause before something fairly large and mechanical floated out whilst bathed in a blood colored glow. The strange device floated behind Belos and then pressed itself against his spine while several of the mechanical extensions moved until they properly attached themselves onto the remnants of his natural wings. At the same time several straps wrapped themselves tightly around his chest, securing the contraption to his back.

Belos shifted and as he did so, so did this mechanical device. As it unfurled it revealed itself to be a different set of prosthetic wings. Nowhere near as grand or as awe-inspiring as his primary set was, these prosthetics were considerably lighter not to mention less ornate. His primary set had always bore a strong resemblance to how his natural wings had appeared. Their shape reminiscent of large feathered wings. This pairs simplistic design was clearly made to resemble a more traditional gargoyles wings although the batlike ‘membrane’ was made out of white witches wool rather than leather.

“So that’s what you’ve been working on these last few weeks.” Kiki observed as Belos flexed and checked the movements of these new prosthetics. “Have you tested them properly?”

“Rest assured Kiki they’ve been fully tested and work perfectly.” He explained her as he stretched out the prosthetics and made sure the movements were to his liking. He then turned to Hunter, who didn’t wait before jumping into his arms again. He adjusted his grip on his son and slung the satchel over his shoulder before stepping up onto the balcony railing. Looking down the steep walls of the castle and onto the sea of spikes which surrounded it. “Are you ready my son? This is your first excursion outside the walls of this castle after all.”

Hunter took a deep breath and tried his very best to look serious, although the energetic glitter in his red eyes never faltered for even a moment. “I’m ready.” He said with a nod.

Giving his son a somewhat wicked smile Belos leaned forward and let gravity pull him down. He fell straight down like a bullet; but just as Hunter began to scream the mechanical prosthetics fully opened and caught the wind which Belos masterfully maneuvered and within a moment he and Hunter were high in the air soaring high above the castle and away from it. Hunter’s screams changing into laughter as his fear died and was replaced by a heart pounding exhilaration. His eyes were initially glued to the sky and the sun shining so brightly-

“Don’t stare directly at the sun Hunter.” His father chided upon seeing him have to blink rapidly and rub at his eyes to get the glare out. Belos smirked a little at this as he allowed his own gaze to wander over the world below. In spite of the fact that his wings were not made of flesh and blood, he could still feel the wind on his body and thus was able to maneuver his prosthetics in anyways he required in order to fly with the same dexterity he had always been able to, even before his real wings had been severed.

Hunter readjusted his grip around his father’s neck as he quietly watched the world far below. Even though Belos was not recognizable without his robe and mask he still preferred to stay mostly unnoticed by the people of the Boiling Isles, so he chose a fairly high altitude to glide at. But after an hour or two of watching the world below come to life as the denizens of the towns awakened and set about whatever work the day called for, Belos began to move further away from these populated areas… the houses and the majority of the communities disappeared, replaced instead by a thick blanket of trees. Eventually he spotted a small clearing and descended into it, although he hit the ground far harder than he intended to. And he noted that he would need to tweak a few things once he returned to the castle... and not mention it to Kikimora of course.

“Why are we landing here?” Hunter questioned as Belos gently placed his son on the ground as he rose up and brushed the dirt off of the plating on his knees.

“You can’t very well enjoy the forest strictly from the sky.” He explained as Hunter began looking over the world around them with wonder and awe shining in his eyes. “Besides I’d like to test your knowledge of the flora and fauna that I know Kiki has been teaching you all about. Seeing things in person is far different than reading about it from a book.” Immediately his sons smile returned and the boys obvious happiness brought a warm joy to the elder gargoyles usually frigid soul. A quick glance around the area and Belos found what looked to be a trail that led deeper into the woods and with Hunter sticking close to him they both ventured deeper in… although Belos did reach into the satchel and pull out a map he knew that Kikimora had included within the supplies she’d provided them.

Kiki had truly outdone herself when it came to helping him with this little excursion he’d been planning for himself and Hunter. Of course she’d always gone above and beyond helping him with just about everything he did; but she had found out about this particular section of forest as well as the various hiking trails it was connected to from one of the newer scouts to be accepted into the Emperor’s Coven. A fellow by the name of Steve. He was apparently quite fond of hiking and camping and when she’d inquired further about the different trails he knew, he’d provided the little demon with a map of the entire area that he had made himself. The aforementioned map was very well drawn out and even adorned with a few doodles of some varying monstrous creatures and notes of where to avoid going as to not run into them. There were also other drawings of various types of flora and fauna and where to find them amidst the trails.

It was actually rather impressive work in Belos’s opinion. It would appear this new coven scout had some skills as a cartographer, he would need to remember that for the future. In any case Belos was careful to keep a close eye on both the map and his young son who was energetically running ahead of him on the trail. Taking in every single thing there was to see and at the same time, identifying every species of tree and plant that they saw along the way.

It was to be expected, Hunter’s excitement at finally seeing the world outside of the castle he had spent every night of his life in ever since the day of his hatching. Belos was in many ways too protective of Hunter and it wasn’t as though he didn’t know it. Hell, he barely let Hunter leave his personal wing of the castle and even then, the boy was never unattended.

He just wanted to protect his son…

But there were times he wondered if his overprotectiveness might be doing more harm than good…

He pushed these thoughts away from the front of his mind and instead he refocused his attention onto Hunter; the child now pointing at a particularly large, withered tree with many of its branches cut off and properly identified it as an old Palistrom tree. Belos nodded approvingly at his son and made a mental note to tell Kiki that, in spite of Hunter giving her such a hard time when it came to his studies, the boy was actually paying attention when she tried to teach him things. Still, they continued on and occasionally Hunter would stop in a sunlit patch shining through the branches of the trees overhead and just bask in the warm rays of the sun for a few minutes before continuing down the path with his father.

This is just how it was for hours… peaceful, calm and quiet.

Being careful to stay on the specific path which wouldn’t lead too far into the wilderness, eventually the two came out of the forest and into a more populated area. In actuality the hiking trail had branched off from its main route and led them into an open and spacious park on the outskirts of Bonesborough. Looking around, Belos could see a picnic area with a multitude of different families sitting about and conversing with each other in jovial tones. Directly next to this area was what appeared to be a playground with the standard equipment such as a slide, a jungle gym, some monkey bars etc. Unsurprisingly there was a large gathering of youngsters who were playing and laughing about, not far from the protective gaze of their parents.

“Do you want to go play with the other children Hunter?” Belos inquired as he noticed his son watching the other kids on the playground. As this was perhaps the first time he had ever seen any children his own age.

Hunter watched the other kids with interest for a few minutes before looking back at Belos and shaking his head. “No. I want to spend the day with you!” He stated, but then a low rumbling sound came from his stomach and his ears drooped a little. “But could we eat now? I’m really hungry.”

“A reasonable request.” His father surmised with a slight laugh as he spotted a particularly large tree a fair ways away from the rest of the people currently gathered at the park. He motioned for Hunter to follow him and they both sat down in the shade at the base of this tree. Belos pulled out the bag Kiki had given him and sure enough there wasn’t just food for Hunter inside it. There were two sandwiches, one considerably larger than the other and the smaller of the two had a small sticky note labeled ‘For Hunter’ along with a juice box of apple blood. The larger sandwich had multiple sticky notes attached to it, most of which read along the lines of:

‘Eat this, I mean it!’

‘Seriously, don’t skip another meal!’

‘I know you haven’t eaten in four days!’

And a few others that were mostly along those lines. It made Belos roll his eyes as he handed Hunter his food and drink and unwrapped his own as well. They both had the same lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as Belos wasn’t exactly picky when it came to his food. There was also a thermos of ice-cold water for him. As Hunter was eating his lunch and taking some time to enjoy watching all the other people in this park, Belos couldn’t help but let his mind wander onto some… far less than pleasant topics.

Poor Kiki, she never stopped trying to take care of him. He wasn’t ungrateful to her for her actions as he knew full well that he wasn’t exactly the easiest person on the Isles to deal with… he just wished that she could stop worrying about him. Of course in her mind she didn’t see it that way, and Belos knew that she still saw him the same way as when she’d found him half dead on the riverbed and dragged him into her home all those years ago. She would often state that he was incapable of taking care of himself, as she needed to remind him to take breaks from whatever project he was working on; to sleep or at least attempt to sleep on a normal basis… and most importantly she needed to remind him to eat. As it wasn’t at all uncommon for him to go on for days without food. That one annoyed her the most…

Ironically his explanation for his poor eating habits didn’t involve any form of side effect from his curse…

He had tried to explain this to her before; during his time with the Skull Clan he frequently went hungry or was denied permission to eat. Over time… He just lost his ability to tell when he was hungry and became fine going long periods of time without eating. To him this was normal. Even if she assured him, through gritted teeth, that this was not something that was normal in the slightest. She had eventually managed to convince him to at least attempt to eat at more normal intervals, if only so that Hunter wouldn’t pick up on his bad habit of rarely eating. It was funny how the little demoness always knew how to get him to go along with things. He mused as he quietly ate his own lunch. She’d probably saved him more times that he could count, not to mention prevented him from mistakes that could’ve led to armed rebellions trying to dethrone him.

Especially in regards to the one time he had nearly outlawed adoption. Of course looking back, he was glad she talked him out of that one. Even though he remained someone who was naturally very wary of the practice…

After all he had been adopted himself and look how well that went…

It was a story he wished he could forget, but alas it never stayed buried for long in the dark recesses of his mind. Memories that hurt about as badly as his curse did at times.

His earliest memory was wandering alone lost through a forest he couldn’t remember entering. He was only a child somewhere between the age of 12 and 14 at oldest. He couldn’t remember anything of his past, not his age… let alone his name, if he even had one… All he knew was this terrible awful despair that clung to him down to his very soul. A knowledge that he had no family left, a feeling of brutal abandonment and agonizing betrayal ripped into him and made him sob aloud as he desperately tried to find his way to… anywhere… His pitiful crying however had resulted in being found by two scouts from the Skull Clan, both of whom led him up to the castle that the clan resided in and brought him before their leader Tarloc.

He could still remember the utter loathe he had seen reflected in that creature’s eyes as he stared at him. His bald head adorned with a pair of twisting horns, thick muscular wings with two razor-sharp claws at the ends, a pair of tusk-like teeth protruding from his lower jaw, crimson colored skin and a muscular torso that was partially covered in battle worn armor made him look as though he was actually standing before the devil incarnate.

Tarloc had taken one look at him, a thin gangly boy with long unkempt brown hair and pale yellow skin, a pair of pronged horns atop his head and large feathery wings with white, gold and brown plumage and equipped with a single sharp claw at their tops… Belos knew the second Tarloc saw him, he hated him. He wanted him gone from their territory as fast as possible and he was almost willing to throw him off the cliff at that moment. But this wasn’t the sentiment amongst all the other members of the clan… Especially from his mate Kaluba. She was thin and lithe, built with four wings and amethyst colored skin and wore nothing but a pale white dress, clearly she was no warrior unlike her mate. Her smile had been friendly and she had clearly felt pity for him as had several other members of this clan… And in spite of Tarlocs disapproval he had relented and allowed the lost one to stay.

Kaluba even gave him his name… Belos…

Though this welcome into this new ‘family’ was short-lived. He tried, he tried so hard to fit in, but in spite of that he was always… different… always strange. And what generosity and kindness there had been to begin with rapidly dissipated. Especially in regards to the fact that everyone began to blame him for every random misfortune that befell the clan. They blamed him because of the old superstition that a gargoyle with feathered wings were harbingers of misfortune and bad luck to whatever clan they were a part of. Within a few months of his arrival, his newfound family despised his very existence and that was when the abuse started. Kaluba’s once friendly almost motherly demeanor was now nothing but a glare and a scowl. Not to mention she would frequently crack her tail like a whip against his wings if he was in her way for too long. Sometimes damaging his feathers, but other times she would hit him with enough force to dislocate a wing from his shoulder altogether.

Belos often wondered why they never just cast him out of the clan. Why did they keep him around for the sole purpose of mistreating him and also reminded him continuously that he had nowhere else he could go as to prevent him from finding the courage to leave on his own? Something that had weighed terrible on his psyche for many years… Perhaps it was because he knew the ins and outs of the clans domain; he knew the territory very well and even knew the secret routes within the castles walls. Perhaps they feared he could bring about immense trouble should he tell another rival clan or faction of rogue witches about their layouts and scouting patterns. Perhaps they simply didn’t want to admit that they had made a mistake when they let him stay and become a member of the clan.

Maybe they just grew to enjoy abusing him…

Belos had long suspected the latter was the case. And with that in mind it wasn’t surprising at all that after everything he had endured. Belos took a deep and dark pleasure on the day he returned to the castle and saw the entire clan torn asunder and dead in many a gruesome way. Oh how he wished he could’ve seen it with his own eyes, he would’ve laughed at their suffering-

“What are you thinking about dad?” The voice of Hunter pulled him from the darkest depths of his mind that he had fallen back into. Belos blinked once only to realize that Hunter had climbed up the tree and was now hanging upside down directly in front of his face. Suspended from one of the branches and holding onto it strictly with his tail as he looked at his father with a worried expression. To Belos, he couldn’t help but think how much he looked like a spider dangling from its web…

He also couldn’t explain why that comparison brought a dull pang of pain to his heart for a moment…

“Nothing of any importance my son.” He muttered forcing a smile onto his face and internally chastising himself for allowing his mind to go down such dark paths on what was supposed to be a special day for him and Hunter. Without another word he finished his sandwich and washed it down with what remained of the water in the thermos before returning the empty canister to the satchel. Hunter eyed his father with a bit of concern until the elder gargoyle stood upright and plucked his son from the branch he was dangling from.

“What are we going to do next?” The child questioned as his father set him onto the ground once again.

“Well, there’s supposed to be some sort of bazaar going on in the nearby town. My thoughts were that we would cut through their and browse the various wares the merchants have. Once we finish that, it will be nearly sunset and then we’ll head back to the castle. Sound good?” Hunter nodded eagerly but before he could run ahead of his father, Belos took his hand. Wordlessly informing him that he was not going to leave his side at all during this time.

Admittedly while Belos didn’t have a problem with activities such hiking through the woods where it was unlikely they would be encountering other people. Walking through a populated towns was… well, that was a different thing altogether. It was something that made him tense to say the least.

Belos had never truly been comfortable around people. At the very least he had always felt out of place… at worst he felt as though he didn’t belong anywhere near the rest of the Isles inhabitants. Whether these were the feelings he’d developed due to the torment he had received at the hands of an abusive family… or if they were due to the forgotten memories of a past he could not remember… he was not sure. Of course, the fact that he also stood out physically amongst a crowd wherever he went did not help these feelings. He was 9 feet tall, even taller if one included his horns. Whereas the average male gargoyle on the Boiling Isles stood between 7 and 8, and he was well past that. The fact that he also had a twisting green scar running diagonal across his face was the worst part in his own opinion. If he was self-conscious about anything, it was that damn scar. Even more than his amputated wings.

He hated it. He hated it when it had initially been inflicted by Tarlocs knife when he slashed it across his face, stunning him, and allowing other members of the clan to restrain him while Tarloc hacked off his wings before pushing him off the cliff on the fateful day when he had first been cursed. He hated how over the long years the curse had seeped up and out through this wound and eventually spread across the entirety of his face and even began to spread down his neck. He hated it so much… He even hated how many of the other scars that riddled his body were beginning to take on a similar appearance as well.

But as uncomfortable as he was going into this town, he did his best to not let it show. Fortunately, Hunter seemed none the wiser to his discomfort. As he was captivated by all of the hustle and bustle that surrounded them as they made their way through the busy streets and into the towns center where the bazaar was being held. Belos, to his own complete surprise, found himself feeling more at ease when he realized few people were sparing him second glances. Everyone was far more interested at the wide variety of stalls with all sorts of unique and unusual goods. Thankfully all of this was deemed to be far more interesting than a gargoyle with an unusual scar on his face and prosthetic wings. For that he was grateful.

Hunter was entranced by this area. His eyes wide and alert at the sight of all the different kinds of people and strange items that he was now finally getting to see up close. Although he and his father were looking at all of the different wares for sale nothing initially caught either of their attention…

Until they passed one particular stall that had quite a few stuffed toys.

As soon as Hunter saw this one particular stuffed animal, something that if the Emperor had to guess was supposed to be some kind of anthropomorphic pink frog, the child’s eyes widened and his pupils dilated. He bit his lower lip and didn’t say anything… No doubt he probably felt a little awkward asking his father to buy something else for him when he was already having probably the best day of his life. But Belos was nothing if not an observant man and he selected the toy his child clearly wanted and paid the woman for it. The nice lady smiling as she presented it to the young gargoyle.

Belos would never get tired of seeing Hunter smile.

And if a silly stuffed animal brought him another smile, he would gladly pay for it.

As twilight fell over the Isles and after seeing everything there was to see at the bazaar, it was clear that in spite of Hunters eagerness to continue his outing with his father, the boy was reaching the point of exhaustion. Even the incredible amount of energy young children were naturally blessed with had its limits.

Realizing there was no way that Hunter could manage to walk the long ways back to the castle, Belos picked up his tired son and decided that, rather than have to deal with any sort of public transportation, he was just going to find a high vantage point and glide back to the castle. After locating and climbing the tallest building in the area he spread his prosthetic wings and took to the sky. Fortunately for him, gargoyles were not an uncommon sight on the Boiling Isles and it was also not uncommon for them to climb up the sides of buildings in order to be able to catch a decent air current to glide on, and very few people had any problems with them doing this…

And even if someone had a problem, no one was about to tell a 9ft tall intimidating as all hell gargoyle like Belos he couldn’t do something…

Of course, the flight back took a fair amount of time, and when they managed to return to the castle, the sun had already set and night had fallen. Darkness proved to be a useful asset to Belos, as it concealed his approach from the eyes of the guards that were stationed on the roof. Something although beneficial for him on this particular night, would need to be rectified in the future. As he didn’t much care for the thought of some winged assassin or Wild Witch having such an easy time making it to his castle unnoticed in the dark… he didn’t actually fear for his life, merely disliked the thought of what an inconvenience it would bring him moreso than any actual threat.

Nonetheless he was able to land on his private balcony with relative ease and when he checked, he found that Hunter was sound asleep against his chest. A small smile still visible on his soft, young features. The sight brought Belos a small genuinely happy smile of his own. Honestly this day had been one of the happiest he’d had in so long… his curse had not bothered him once and he was able to set his eyes on something other than the repetitive sight of his castles walls. He’d shared a meal with his son outside in the warm sun and just… enjoyed himself…

Of course, no sooner had he opened the doors that led into his room did he come face to face with… himself? As standing directly in front of him in the center of his room was a precise copy of Belos, adorned with his golden mask and clad in his formal robes. The sight actually made him chuckle as he got close enough to inspect this apparent doppelgänger.

“Hmmm, it appears that I need to polish my mask.” He said in a joking tone as he looked at Kikis well-made illusion and appreciating all the effort Kikimora had put into this façade which she’d worn all day to give him this free day with his son.

“You have other things to worry about other than polishing a mask. Frankly it took all of my self-control not to smack some of the idiots you have to regularly deal with.” His own voice said with dull annoyance just as there was a brief flash of light and within a second the illusionary Belos evaporated until Kikimora was the only one standing before him. She stood before her dear friend and looked up at him and sighed a tired yet still happy sigh. “So, how was your day out?”

“It was amazing...” To the surprise of both Belos and Kikimora, Hunter answered the question. Apparently, he was not quite as asleep as originally believed to be judging by his barely open eyes and a small sleepy smile still on his face. “This was the best day ever...” He whispered the small smile broadening as he began to purr slightly. An odd trait that was seemingly unique strictly to Belos and Hunter for as far as Kiki knew they were the only gargoyles on all of the Boiling Isles capable of purring. However the young boys exhausted declaration simply made his father laugh… not chuckle or snicker, but actually laugh. For a moment anyway, before his smile faded and he carefully pulled the sun talisman off of his sons neck.

“I’m glad you thought so Hunter.” Belos said trying to rouse the boy. “But this was a very special day and while I’m glad that you enjoyed yourself. However this talisman is not something that you are ready for just yet. There will come a day when I will give it back to you but it won’t be until you’re older. Do you understand?”

“I don’t think he does Belos…” Kikimora said barely managing to restrain her own laughter. “He fell asleep after the word thought.” She eventually couldn’t help it and had a small laughing fit.

Belos rolled his eyes and let out a tired sigh. “I think I will go and put him to bed. He’s probably going to sleep until sunrise. So he will undoubtedly be a hellion tomorrow night.”

“Perhaps you should try to get some sleep yourself Belos.” Kiki said as most of her amusement left her voice spare for some trace amounts still resounding within her stern tone. “You had a wonderful day today with your son. Maybe you should try to take advantage of this and see if it brings you good dreams tonight. So please… try to get some sleep.”

Belos considered her words for a bit before sighing and realizing she was right, as she usually was. He was tired, but it was a good tired and not his usual exhaustion which he would feel weighing on him down to his very soul. “I will give it a try… Maybe I’ll get an hour or two.”

“Or maybe he’ll even get an entire nights worth of sleep.” Kiki added hopefully. “Either way I’m happy you two had such a good time.”

“We did Kiki, and I promise to tell you all about it a little later.” Belos said softly as he went to Hunters room and tucked the sleeping child into his bed and planted a kiss on his head before he returned to his own room and collapsed onto his bed without even removing his prosthetic wings.

And he fell into what was a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep.

11 notes · View notes

thebrewstorian · 4 years ago

Text

Women and Oregon breweries, a post-1984 list.

When I heard there was no list of women who owned or co-owned breweries in Oregon I knew I had to make it right.

I pulled together a list of women listed as owners (and a handful of brewers) using the information in Oregon Brew Tour (2011), Oregon Breweries (2014), on Jeff Alworth’s blog, the breweries identified on the Oregon Brewers Guild site, and a Google Maps search combined with the info in the Oregon State Business Registry Database.

Note: Some of the women included in this post include women who are listed as owners / co-owners in the forms filed and uploaded to the State Business Registry Database. I’m not sure how involved they are in day-to-day operations.

I'll be filling in gaps as I do more research, but email me at [email protected] to add names and make my job easier!

Note: people leave jobs and businesses close, and I have not noted that here. This is more a tally of “all time” rather than a current list.

June 10, 2021: I had what felt like a brilliant, though tedious, idea to search the State Business Registry Database for “brew*” (wildcard at the end of that search word because librarians roll like that), but after spending way too much time opening a lot of business records looking for female owner / co-owners I scrolled to the bottom to see how large my task was, only to find that the site would only display the first 1000 names. It stopped at Heater Allen. 🙄I’ve added what I found here, but note that some may have been registered and never opened.

I’ve done many, many, many interviews with women related to brewing in Oregon (many brewers who could be added to this list). You can find those on the guide to OHBA collections.

7 Devils Brewing Company, Coos Bay. Co-owner and brewer Annie Pollard

10 Barrel Brewing Company, Portland and Bend. Brewers Tonya Cornett and Whitney Burnside

1188 Brewing Company, John Day. Co-owner Jen Brown and Shannon Adair

20 West Brewing LLC, Sweethome. Co-owner Kimberly Mynar

3 Sheets Brewing, Albany. Co-owner Katherine Sheets

45 Degrees Brewing Company, Salem, Co-owner Michelle Dean

Acevedo Brewing, Gresham. Co-owner Hannah Acevedo

Against the Grain Brewery, Portland. Owner Sara Atkeson

Ale Apothecary, Bend. Co-owner Staci Arney

Allgood Brewing Company LLC, Sandy. Co-owner Tiara Allgood

Amnesia Brewing, Portland. Co-owner Kristina King

Arable Brewing Company LLC, Eugene. Co-owner Amy Wells

Arbol Brewing Company LLC, Wilsonville. Co-owner Patricia Montana

Arch Rock Brewing Company, Gold Beach. Co-owner Marjie Brennan

Archetype LLC, 2017, Portland. Co-owners (no male co-owners) Laura Fischer and Kelsyn Bevins

Arrhythmia Brewing Company, Portland. Co-owner Sandra Lohstroh

Astoria Brewing Company / Wet Dog Cafe & Saloon, Astoria. Co-owner Karen Allen

Augustus Brew Works Inc., Portland. Co-owner Amy Blunt

Avatar Brewing & Brewing Supply Company, Corvallis. Co-owner Laverne Keith

Away Days Brewing LLC, Portland. Co-owner Nicola Diamond

Babe Beer Company, Beaverton. Co-owner Melanie Proctor

Bachelor Brewing Company, Bend. Owner Catherine Cushman

Backside Brewing, LLC, Roseburg and Sutherlin. Manager Savannah McKillip

Barn Door Brewing, Dundee. Co-owner Jane Mandel

Bayview Brewing LLC, Garibaldi. Owner Sofia Skeens

Beachcrest Brewing Company, Gleneden Beach. Co-owner Amy White

Bear Creek Brew Company LLC, Bend,. Co-owners Jade Robinson and Terri Fields

Beast Brewery LLC, Salem. Co-owner Amy Provancha

Beaverjack Brewery, Medford. Co-owner Beverly Brehm

Beer Babe Brewing, Cornelius. Owner Natalie Walsh.

Below Grade Brewing, Bend. Co-owner Bridget Wise

Bend Brewing Company, Bend. Owner Wendi Day, former brewer Tonya Cornett

Bent Shovel Brewing LLC, Oregon City. Co-owner Michele Strauss

Bent Tail Brewing Company, Portland. Co-owner Joni Bott

Bevel Craft Brewing, Bend. Co-owner Valarie Doss

Big Horse Brewing / Horsefeathers Restaurant, Hood River. Co-owner Susan Orzeck

Block 15, Corvallis. Co-owner Kristen Arzner

Blue House Cafe and Brewery, Vernonia. Co-owner Eleonora Semerjian

Bogwater Brewing Company and Bandon Brewing Company, Wilsonville. Co-owner Christine Hawkins

Boneyard Beer, Bend. Co-owner Melodee Storey

Bridge 99 Brewery, Bend. Co-owner Angel Hawman

Bridgeport Brewing Company, Portland. Co-owner Nancy Ponzi

Bull Ridge Brew Pub, Baker City. Co-owner Julie Blank

Burnt Valley Brewing, Boardman. Co-owner Michelle Seeley

Calapooia Brewing Company, Albany. Co-owner Laura Bryngelson

Captured by Porches Brewing Company, St. Helens. Co-owner Suzanne Moodhe

Chehalem Valley Brewing Company, Newberg. Co-owner Serena Smith

Chetco Brewing Company, Brookings. Co-owner Alexandra Frederick

Claim 52 Brewing, Eugene. Co-owners Mercy McDonald and Jeannine Parisi

Coalition Brewing Company, Portland. Co-owner Kiley Hoyt

Coin Toss Brewing Company LLC, Oregon City. Co-owner Valerie Prothero

Columbia County Brewing, St. Helens. Co-owner Samantha Rosenlund and Kelly Dolyniuk

Columbia River Brewing Company, Portland. Co-owner Lynn Burkhardt

Craft Kitchen & Brewery, Bend. Co-owner Courtney Stevens

Crowing Hen, Carlton. Co-owner and brewer Michelle Rhea

Culmination Brewing Company, Portland. Co-owner April Sluiter

De Garde Brewing, Tillamook. Co-owner Linsey Hamacher

Deluxe Brewing Company, Albany. Co-owner Jamie Howard

Deschutes Brewery (first called Fish Breweries), Bend. On original Board of Directors Carol and Mary Fish. Brewer Veronica Vega

Dirt Road Brewing, Philomath. Co-owner Vicki Cox

Dragon's Gate Brewery, Milton-Freewater. Co-owner and brewer Jennifer Gregory

The Elk Horn Brewery, Eugene. Co-owner Colleen Sheehan

Embers Brew House, Joseph. Owner Teresa Sajonia

Evasion Brewing, McMinnville. Co-owner Janelle Lapp

Fanno Creek Brew Pub, Tigard. Co-owner Connie Bowen

Fearless Brewing Company, Estacada. Co-owner Bennett Johnson

Fire Mountain Brewery / Outlaw Brew House, Carlton. Co-owner Sherry Gorgas

Fire on the Mountain Brewing Company, Portland. Co-owner Sara Sawicki

Flat Tail Brewery, Corvallis. Co-owner Tonya Duncan, Emma Marliave, and Carrie Duranceau

Fort George, Astoria. Brewer Piper Gladwell

Full Sail, Hood River. CEO Irene Firmat

Gateway Brewing, Portland. Co-owner Karen Sheley.

Golden Valley, McMinnville. Co-owner Celia Kircher, brewer Piper Gladwill

Gratitude Brewing, Eugene. Owner Julia Manela

Griess Family Brews, Grants Pass. Co-owners Susie Griess and [unnamed] daughter-in-law

Heater Allen, McMinnville. Brewer Lisa Allen

The Hoppy Brewer, Gresham. Co-owner Sally Krause

Hopworks Urban Brewery LLC (first called Beer Engine Brewery, LLC), Portland. Co-Owner Brandie Ettinger

Immersion, Bend. Co-owners Rachel, Jeanne, and Amanda Plattner

Initiative Brewing, LLC, Redmond. Co-owners Audrey Brumley, Monique Davis, and Cathy Brannon

Kells Brewpub, Portland. Co-owner Lucille McAleese

Laurelwood Public House and Brewery, Portland. Co-owner and kitchen management Cathy Woo-De Kalb

Leikam Brewing, Portland. Co-owner Sonia-Marie Leikam

Little Beast Brewery, Portland. Co-owner Brenda Crow

Logsdon Farmhouse Ales, Hood River County. Co-owners Judith Logsdon-Bams and Jodie Ayura

Long Timber Brewing Company, Monroe. Co-owner Amy Nystrom

Madcow Brewing Company LLC, Portland. Co-owner Kelly Blair

Max's Fanno Creek Brewpub, Tigard. Co-owner Connie Bowen

Mazama Brewing, Corvallis. Co-owner Kathy Tobin

McMenamins: brewers Jen Kent at Thompson Brewery, Kyla Walsh Edgefield

Mia and Pia's Pizzeria and Brewhouse, Klamath Falls. Co-owner Jodi Kucera

Montavilla Brew Works, Portland. Co-owner Melissa Kora

Mt. Hood Brewing Company, Government Camp. Co-owner Molly Kohnstamm

Mutiny Brewing, Joseph. Owner and brewer Kari Gjerdingen

New Spring, Albany. Co-owner Emma Marliave

Newport Brewing Company, Bier One. Co-owner Christina Simonsen

Ninkasi Brewing Company, Eugene. CEO Cheryl Collins. Brewer Dana Robles

Oblivion Brewing Company, Bend. Co-owner Meghann Butschy

The Old Market Pub and Brewery, Portland. Co-owner Shelly Bigley

Old Mill Brew Werks, Bend. Co-owners Courtney Stevens and Genie Kelley

Opposition Brewing Company, Medford. Co-owners Erin Ellis and Penny Poncia

Panty Dropper Ale, LLC, Aloha. Co-owner Linda Hansen

Pelican Pub & Brewery, Pacific City. Co-owner Mary Jones, brewer Whitney Burnside

Pfriem Family Brewers, Hood River. Co-owner Annie Pfriem

Portal Brewing Company, Medford. Co-owner Theresa Delany

Porter Brewing Company, Redmond. Co-owners Avara Roberts and Andrea Reardon

Prodigal Son, Pendleton. Co-owner Jennifer Guenther

Public Coast Brewing Company, Cannon Beach. Co-owner Stephanie Snyder

Rat Hole Brewing, Bend and Sunriver. Co-owner Susan Toepfer

Roots, Portland. Co-owner Diane Crawford

Seaside Brewing Company, Seaside. Co-owner Jade Griffin

Smith Rock Brewing, Redmond. Co-owners and brewers Natalie Patterson (master brewer) and Danielle Stewart (brewer)

Snow Peak Brewing LLC, Stayton. Co-owner Crystal Spenner, Cari Naugle, and Brittany Klein

Sparky's Brewing Company, Salem. Co-owner Jodi Baker

Spider City Brewing, Bend. Co-owners and brewers (no male co-owners) Melanie Betti, Michele Betti, and Tammy Treat

Standing Stone, Ashland. Co-owner Danielle Amarotico

Steelhead, Eugene. Brewer Teri Fahrendorf

Steens Mountain Brewing Company, Burns. Co-owner Colleen Roy

Steeplejack Brewing, Portland. Brewers Anna Buxton and Anne Aviles

Sunriver Brewing Company, Sunriver. Co-owner Karin Devencenzi (*? also Sunriver Brewing Company, The Village at Sunriver. Co-owner Karol Cameron)

Swing Tree Brewing Company, Ashland. Co-owner Tanya Overstreet

Terminal Gravity Brewing, Inc., Enterprise. Co-owners Sophia Millar

Three Mugs Brewing Company, LLC, Hillsboro. Co-owner Wendy Jennings

Threshold Brewing, Portland. Co-owner Sara Szymanski

Thunder Island, Cascade Locks. Co-owner Caroline Lipps, brewer Jen House

Tight Lines Brewery, Brookings. Co-owner Nicole Heath

Tugboat Brewing Company, Portland. Owner Megan McEnroe-Nelson (husband Terry Nelson brewer, not also owner)

Twisted Snout Brewery and Public House / Pig Feathers BBQ, Toledo. Co-owner Becky Miller

Two-Shy Brewing LLC, Roseburg. Co-owner Danielle Hruda

Vanguard Brewing Company, Wilsonville. Co-owner Belinda Anderson

Wakonda Brewing Company, Florence. Co-owner Juanita Kirkham

Walkabout Brewing Company, Central Point. Co-owner Ava Litton

Weekend Brewing Company, LLC, Grants Pass. Co-owner Kelsey Yoho and Ashley Crews

West Coast Grocery Company, Portland. Co-owner Lynne Sund

Wild River Brewing & Pizza Company, Cave Junction and Grants Pass. Co-owner Bertha Miller

Yachats Brewery, Market, and Farmstore, Yachats. Co-owner Cicely Bernard

Xicha, Salem. Co-owner Margarita Antunez

Owners (past and present) of beer-adjacent companies (bottle shops, tour companies, et al).

Above The Rest Homebrew, LLC, Portland, Sharon Hurd

Baldwin's Bottle Shop & Tasting Parlor, Lake Oswego, Jennifer Herrera

Bazi Bierbrasserie, Portland, Hilda Stevens

Beer Bottle Shop and Tap Room, Portland, Wendy Schumer

Beer City Bottle Shop, LLC, Portland, Pamela Adkins

Beervana Bottle Shop Corp, Portland, Lena Davidson

Belmont Bottle Shop, Portland, Lisa Morrison

Bend North and South Bottle Shop LLC, Bend, Allison Cogen

Besaw's, Portland, Cana Flug

BrewLab, Eugene, Dana Garves

BREWVANA, Portland, Ashley Rose Salvitti

Broken Top Bottle Shop, LLC, Bend, Jennifer Powell

Burn and Brew Supply Company, LLC, Hillsboro, Andrea Tague

Crabbsoup, Portland, Chris Crabb

Dog Days Bottle Shop, LLC, Portland, Kaylene Adams

F.H. Steinbart Co., Portland, MaryKay DeBenedetti

Franklin's Bottle Shop and Lounge, LLC, Salem, Danielle Hughes

Gluten Free Home Brewing, LLC, Ashland, Alissa Kolodzinski

Keller's Brew Supply, The Dalles, Charla Fraley and Millie Keller

Oregon Beer Growler, Independence, Gail Oberst

Redmond Craft Brewing Supply, LLC, Redmond, Rhonda Pancoast

The Portland Bottle Shop, LLC, Portland, Emily Motter

Portland U-Brew & Pub, Portland, Anne Webb

Salem Brew Supply, Salem, Gina Fox

Saravesa, Portland, Sarah Pederson

Toast Bottle Shop, LLC, Portland, Lisa Szot

Trailhead Liquor, Bend, Angela Chisum

Union House Bottle Shop, LLC, Portland, Hilary Johnson and Cana Flug

Women Enjoying Beer, Southern Oregon, Ginger Johnson

OCTOBER 15, 2021 UPDATE:

I got a question that asked: “Do you have a sense of what overall percentage that reflects?” The short version of the long answer is that it’s really hard to find out.

Learn more about how to research the industry on the Beer Research Guide.

What’s below still gives some data edges.

TOTALS: According to the Brewers Association:

In 2020, there were 312 breweries in Oregon

In 2019, there were 311 breweries

In 2017, there were 266 breweries

In 2015, there were 215 breweries

In 2013, there were 181 breweries

In 2011, there were 124 breweries

According to portlandbeer.org (a now defunct new blog), in 2007, there were 64 brewing companies operating 90 brewing facilities (so lots of McMenamins and other breweries with multiple locations).

CLOSURES

In 2020, 21 breweries / taprooms closed (New School Beer)

In 2019, 18 closed (New School Beer)

In 2017, 24 opened (Portland Business Journal) and 10 closed (New School Beer)

And it seems there was an average of 7-ish closing each year before that (Register Guard)

Another list that includes numbers on closures (ratebeer.com).

I have found state guidebooks (which are immediately out of date, so immediately “historical” useful in this search. They are listed on the Oregon Hops and Brewing Archives guide.

#women in beer #oregon beer

6 notes · View notes

ms-rampage · 4 years ago

Text

Eden’s Gate: The Mother Chapter 1 - Hope County

Warnings: Some swearing

Word count: 1.8k

Where it all began.

Summary: Mandy Winchester, a single mother who lost custody of her 2 teenage daughters 4 months earlier passes through Hope County, Montana that has been liberated by a doomsday Cult. Upon arrival in Hope County she catches the attention of a certain Leader.

Guest OCs: None

Guest Characters: Archangel Raphael (Supernatural), Chuck/God [mentioned]

Note: This takes place in 2012. Supernatural & Far Cry 5 crossover.

*********

*Ace of Spades by Motorhead plays over the radio*

If you like to gamble, I tell you I’m you man

You win some, you lose some, all the same to me

41 year old Mandy Winchester drives down the road entering Hope County, Montana.

Passing through to get some gas, food, maybe some beer and rest.

Drumming her fingers along with the song on the wheel, singing along with the song.

The pleasure is to play, makes no difference what you say

I don’t share your greed, the only card I need is the Ace of Spades

The Ace of Spades .

Playing for the high one, dancing with the devil.

Going with the flow, it’s all a game to me.

Driving down the countryside road.

Seven or eleven, snake eyes watching you

Double up, or quit, double stake, or split-

Not even halfway through the song, the radio cuts out with static. Changing it to some depressing Christian music.

“What the hell?!?” she says, trying to fix the radio.

When none of that helps, she shuts it off. Driving in silence.

She was told she had to go to Hope County by Archangel Raphael. He didn’t say much on why she had to go.

All that she had to protect a certain man.

Because “God was gonna speak with him, or that God spoke with him about the end”. Something like that.

She doesn’t even know this man’s name, or what he looks like. But he did say that she’ll know when she sees him. Her gut will tell her, that still didn’t help. She thought she was wasting her time, she could’ve been looking for her husband’s killer, but Raphael said that this will “help her with what she needed” whatever that meant.

She drives down the road in the Henbane River.

Nothing unusual, seems like a normal country town. She pulls into the Misty River Gas station. Getting out, putting gas into her truck.

A quiet town. She knows her daughters would’ve loved it here. As gas is being pumped into her truck, she looks around.

“Passing through?!” a man’s voice asks from behind her.

She turns around to face him, “Yeah, I’m here on business”.

He nods, “Well be careful. There’s a lot of crazies here”.

She chuckles, “Don’t worry”, she pulls out her .45 pistol, “I got that covered”.

He nods his head, smiling, “Well that’s a good start”.

She takes the pump of her truck putting back in the gauge.

“Where can I find a place to eat?!” she asks him.

“Well you can go to the Spread Eagle bar that's over in Holland Valley, 8 Bit Pizza, Aubrey’s Diner or Whistling Beaver Brewery they’re here in Henbane, or you can go to the Grill Steak that’s over in the Whitetail Mountains”.

Mandy nods her head, “Which one do you prefer?!?”.

He takes a moment, “I would say Spread Eagle”.

She nods her head again, “Alright I’ll check it out. Thanks”.

“No problem. Have a nice day ma’am” he says, going back inside the gas station.

Mandy takes off down the road. Crossing over a bridge leading to Holland Valley.

“Okay where is this place?!” she asks herself.

Driving through Falls End, she spots the bar. Parking her truck outside. She walks in to it with the smell of chicken wings, and whiskey. Looking around the bar, its not too busy, not too slow, she takes a seat at the bar.

A blonde young woman behind the bar approaches her.

“What can I get you hon?”

Mandy looks down at the menu attached to the bar counter.

“Uhh, I’ll have Guinness, and some chicken wings. Buffalo sauce on the side please. Thank you”.

She gives her order to the cook, and gives her a bottle of Guinness.

“You’re not from around here are you?!” she asks.

Shaking her head, “No, I’m just here on business” she answers.

“What kind of business? If you don’t mind me asking” she asks.

“FBI” she replies.

She raises her eyebrows, “Really?”.

She laughs, “No, I’m joking. I’m just passing through”.

“I see you got a sense of humor. We need that around here” she says, cleaning glasses.

“What’s it like around here?!’ Mandy asks, before taking a sip of her beer.

“It’s quiet. But beware there’s a Cult growing here” she says.

“A Cult?!” she questions.

“Yep, they’ve been growing, kidnapping people to join, stealing property.”

“What about the police?! What are they doing about it?!?” she asks.

Mary May scoffs, “They ain’t doing fucking shit. We have to fend for ourselves”.

“I’m Mary May by the way"

“Mandy” she says.

“Nice to meet you Mandy” she greets.

She gives Mandy her food, and she eats them, while chatting with Mary.

“So what’s this Cult?!” she asks.

“They’re called the Project at Eden’s Gate”

“A religious cult. They’re the worst” she jokes.

“This Cult ain’t no joke. They’ve kidnapped people, forcing them out of their homes, taking over businesses, killing innocent people if they refuse to join them” Mary tells her, while cleaning the counter, “They’ve tried taking my bar. My father’s bar. I did everything I could to protect this place”.

They talk for another hour, and a few beers later, Mandy leaves for a motel in the Henbane River that Mary May had recommended, King’s Hot Springs Hotel, to get some shut eye.

She planned on leaving the next day, but unfortunately due to the Cult, she’s trapped in Hope County. Now she has a reason to “protect” this man who is living in Hope County. Doesn’t know his name, what he looks like, none of that shit.

While driving back to the Henbane, on her way to the hotel, she slams on the brakes to her truck. When three bald people run in front of her truck. Looking like they escaped a mental asylum.

“Oh shit!!!” she yells, slamming on the brake pedal. That scared the living shit out of her.

“What the fuck?!?” she says under her breath.

She continues her drive to the hotel. Arriving at the hotel, she walks in, goes up to the front desk

She’s able to get a room, despite all the Cultists running around and stealing properties.

Mandy’s showers, and goes to sleep.

Figuring out who this person Raphael told her about in the morning. In the middle of the night around 1:30am, a loud crash sound of glass breaking from downstairs in the lobby wakes her up.

Gun shots, and the sound of bodies dropping. Making her room windows vibrate. Heavy footsteps, moving up the stairs. She reaches over to her nightstand, and grabs her pistol.

Waiting for whoever that broke in, to break into her room.

After a few minutes, her bedroom door bursts open, and before they could even take a step in, and see her.

She fires two bullets at them, one in each of their skulls. Killing them both.

“What the fuck?!?” she mutters.

She checks them both, and one of them as an usual symbol on their forehead.

“What the fuck is that?!?” she asks herself, examining the symbol. She has never seen anything like it before.

She moves the bodies out of her room, and into the hallway away from her door.

She tries to go back to sleep, but fails to do so. Staying up, listening to every little sound. The sun finally comes up, Mandy gets dressed, and goes downstairs.

The clerk that checked her in is dead, the bellhop is dead.

A few people that were staying there are dead.

She quickly leaves the hotel, and drives towards Aubrey’s Diner for something to eat. On the drive there she sees that same exact symbol on a billboard.

“What the hell is that damn symbol?!?” she asks out loud to herself.

She pulls up to the diner, and it’s been taken over by Cultists.

“Are you fucking serious?!?” she says.

She drives away, and pulls over to the side of the road, near a huge field with cattle. She sighs, closes her eyes and prays to Archangel Raphael.

“Hey Raphael, it's me Mandy Winchester. You told me to come to Hope County, Montana to protect some man. You didn’t even tell me his name, or tell me what he looks like. So get your feather ass down here, and give me that information!!”.

After a few minutes of silence, she’s about to start her truck and drive away when the fluttering of feathers, and the Archangel appears in her passenger seat.

“Well it’s about time!” she says.

“You prayed for me?!” he asks.

She nods, “Yeah, you told me to come here to protect some man. I don’t know from who, or from what. But you told me I needed to protect him because of Chuck”.

Raphael sighs, “His name is Joseph Seed. You can’t miss him, he wears yellow sunglasses, and is often shirtless. A very distinguished character”.

Mandy shrugs, “Okay where would I find Joseph Seed?!”.

“His compound. The middle island between the Whitetails, and Henbane. The one that's all fenced up” he says.

“Okay, so what do I do?!” she asks.

“You’ll have to wait” he says.

“For what?!”.

“For him to approach, or ask for you. God has mentioned you to him” he tells her.

“Why would Chuck say that to him?!” she asks, concerned.

“He didn’t say. All he said to Joseph was that “A woman will make herself clear to you, and will be your guide”. That’s all he said to me, but I’m sure he said more to Joseph”.

Mandy sighs in frustration, “Great, so what do I do?!. Just sit around, and wait for him to notice me?!”.

“God will tell him of your arrival” he tells her.

“So when I do meet him, what do I say to him?!?. “I’m here to protect you?!”, or “God sent me?!”, what do I tell him?!”.

“Whatever Joseph says to you. Go with it. It is important that you protect him. From death, being arrested, anything that’ll cause him to be gone, or in danger”.

***********************************************

Joseph’s compound

The Church of Eden’s Gate just finished having their sermon, spoken by The Father Joseph Seed.

God has been speaking to him, about the arrival of a particular woman that will guide the Project to the gates of Eden. After the sermon, Joseph gets lost in a trance, lost in his visions, he closes his eyes, the voice speaking to him.

Telling him, “She has arrived, she is here. She will show herself. The Mother will guide you, and your flock to the New World”.

Mandy’s face shows in Joseph’s mind. Her smile, driving in her truck, filling it up, eating at the Spread Eagle, checking into the King’s Hot Springs Hotel, and killing one of his followers.

“Father?, Father Joseph? Are you okay?” one of his followers asks.

He opens his eyes. “Yes my child. It was just a vision" he responds.

“A vision?” they ask.

“Yes, she has arrived. The Mother has arrived” he answers, turning to face them.

11 notes · View notes

nwbeerguide · 4 years ago

Text

Door-to-door delivery service, Tavour, breaks down their epic brewery and beer picks from each state.

image sourced from Tavour

Press Release

The online craft beer retailer works with more than 600 independent breweries around the country, connecting discerning beer fans with some of the highest-rated Stouts, IPAs, Sour Ales, and an assortment of other styles.

It would be an epic feat for one person to visit all 600+ breweries, but with Tavour, members can sample their wares from the comfort of home and then rate them on the app. Those ratings represent their picks for America’s best beers, while the dollars they spend represent which states are the best drinking destinations:

With 8.41% of Tavour’s sales coming from Alaskan breweries alone, the Frontier State solidifies its place as the #1 virtual drinking destination.

The #2 state, with breweries contributing to a hefty 7.51% of sales, is New York.

Following closely in the #3 spot is Washington state, whose breweries contributed to 7.45% of Tavour’s sales.

Behind them, Colorado, Oregon, and California make up the next largest contributors, in that order.

Based on Tavour members’ ratings in the app, we dove a little deeper and compiled a list of the best beers in every state. Since Tavour serves craft drinkers in 25 states, these top picks represent a cross-country sampling of their members’ distinguished beer preferences.

There is an insane amount of great craft beer in America right now, and these are among the most elite!

https://www.instagram.com/p/B-vFKo4BL_Y/

Alaska

Anchorage Brewing Company — A Deal With The Devil (2020)

Barrel-Aged American Barleywine, 17% ABV

The dexterous brewers at Anchorage have a reputation for blowing craft fans’ expectations out of the water. But, the sweet, sticky maple, and dark fruit flavors of A Deal With The Devil take the cake. The brewers aged this sinfully smooth, Galaxy-hopped Barleywine in Woodford Reserve Double Oaked Bourbon Barrels, transferring it to fresh barrels halfway through to soak up even more whiskey wonder. Then, they blended 24-month and 12-month-old vintages of ADWTD before allowing it to age some more. It was, and still is, truly a masterpiece.

Arizona

Superstition Meadery — Blueberry Spaceship Box

Fruited Cider, 5.5% ABV

When Blueberry Spaceship Box came through Tavour, it was the #1 highest rated Cider in the world on Untappd. Guess what? It still is! The crew at Superstition makes it with real apple cider and Pacific Northwest-sourced blueberries, so each bubbly sip tastes like a bushel of fruit smashed into the freshest, jammiest of jams. As sweetness coats the palate with blueberry satisfaction, a sprinkle of apple-cinnamon spice tops off the mouthful for an artfully balanced experience.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CIYqu2CF1Zr/

California

Moonraker Brewing Company — Electric Lettuce

Imperial IPA, 8.5% ABV

We aren’t surprised that Tavour’s members gave this Moonraker brew the highest rating of any other beer in California. They’ve been lauded as one of the country’s top breweries for their jaw-dropping hop skills! And Moonraker brings those skills in full force with Electic Lettuce. To give it distinct deliciousness, the brewers use Simcoe and Mosaic Hops, imbuing the beer with flavors of fresh-sliced mangoes and juicy tangerines, with blasts of dank and floral notes on the finish.

Colorado

New Image Brewing — Triple Double One More Time

Imperial New England IPA, 9.5% ABV

New Image is an absolute favorite for Tavour members, and Triple Double One More Time only makes that more clear. These Rocky Mountain mainstays originally released the beer for their 4th anniversary, doubling the malt bill and triple dry-hopping it for big, boisterous flavors! Let each sip linger on the tongue, and the tropical fruit becomes more pronounced. There’s no lactose in this brew, but it’s so silky-thick that it tastes like a freshly blended fruit smoothie.

Connecticut

Connecticut Valley Brewing Company — Fueled By Gravity

Imperial New England IPA, 8% ABV

If there’s one crew we trust to handle the tropical potential of Galaxy Hops, it’s Connecticut Valley Brewing Company. Galaxy is the main show in this hoppy juicebomb — not only do the brewers load it into the boil, they also double dry-hop Fueled by Gravity using only Galaxy! The result is an ultra-potent profile of tropical flavor that isn’t distracted by other flavors, allowing you to experience Galaxy at its juiciest.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B9ko2XUgW2h/

Delaware

Dewey Beer Company — Secret Machine: Double Raspberry Double Blackberry

Fruited Sour Ale, 6% ABV

When people first got a taste of this brew, they weren’t sure it could really be a beer. Some were convinced it was straight-up raspberry jam, or just some mouth-watering fruit juice. That’s what Dewey Beer does best — they crafted this sweet-tart treat with so many real raspberries and blackberries, it’s fruitier than grandma’s homemade preserves! And, with an addition of creamy lactose, it’s so thick and smooth, one could be forgiven for thinking someone swapped out their beer for a freshly blended fruit smoothie.

Florida

Cycle Brewing — Rare DOS 1

Barrel-Aged Imperial Stout, 11% ABV

If there’s one thing that can be said of Cycle, it’s that they are Pastry Stout kings. And, their almost-pudding-thick Rare DOS 1 is arguably the most coveted of all their Stouts. They aged this particular batch for over a year in Angel’s Envy Whiskey Barrels, making it the last of a delicious era. It was the last batch of Rare DOS 1 to touch these highly desirable barrels! Which only makes it all the more special to taste this brew’s flavors of oaky vanilla fudge that swirl around chocolatey flavors of devil’s food cake.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CHi1TGQlwis/

Georgia

Monday Night Brewing — Overnight Celebrity

Barrel-Aged Imperial Coffee Porter, 11.5% ABV

Not only are Monday Night Brewing’s beers exceedingly rare outside of a handful of towns in the South, but this limited, Maple Bourbon Barrel-Aged brew is a genuine treat — it has real espresso, toasted coconut, lactose, and vanilla! Each sip of Overnight Celebrity lights up the senses like a switchboard. Notes of macadamia nuts and mocha draw tasters in by the nose, while maple syrup, coffee, and candied coconut tantalize the tongue in creamy, oak-touched swirls.

Hawaii

Maui Brewing Company — Imperial Coconut Porter Dolce (2020)

Imperial Porter, 9% ABV

Maui Brewing’s original Imperial Coconut Porter is a GABF Gold Medal winner and one of the Top 50 of its Style in the World on BeerAdvocate — it’s a pretty big deal. But, you know which Hawaiian brew Tavour members declared an even bigger deal? The Dolce variant! Not only is Dolce far more limited than the O.G. version, but the brewers steeped it in rich cacao, toasted coconut, and creamy vanilla! It’s like if you took a dark-chocolate Almond Joy, wrapped it in marshmallow, and roasted it into gooey s’mores decadence. Then, topped it with vanilla cream.

Idaho

Bombastic Brewing — Aggravated Murder

Imperial Coffee Stout, 14.5% ABV

Bombastic is the tiny, North Idaho brewery without a taproom that everyone seems to fawn over. Tavour’s members certainly fawned over this Dark Beer behemoth from them. The brewers use real maple syrup and freshly-roasted coffee to make it, giving silky, roasty, boozed-up flavors of chocolate-covered espresso beans, chewy molasses, and woody spice. The only thing aggravating about Aggravated Murder is that once the can’s empty, you have to travel out to little Hayden, ID to get another — IF the brewery makes up another micro-batch by then, that is.

Illinois

Maplewood Brewery & Distillery — Juice Pants

New England IPA, 7% ABV

In a state that’s home to some of the country’s most sought-after breweries, you might expect to see a different name here. But, Tavour’s members spoke loud and clear about Juice Pants IPA, rating its OJ and papaya-like flavors higher than any other beer from Illinois. No wonder it’s widely considered THE beer to drink from Maplewood. Every smooth sip tastes like you’re drinking a carton of orange juice in between bites of a ripe and drippy peach!

Indiana

Taxman Brewing Company — Bourbon Barrel Deduction

Barrel-Aged Belgian Dubbel, 8.5% ABV

The multiple GABF and World Beer Cup-winning brewers at Taxman are all about the three B’s: Belgian Ales, barrels, and booze — and Bourbon Barrel-Aged Deduction Belgian Dubbel is all three. Taxman’s masterful barrel-aging draws out deep caramel and vanilla nuances from the dark fruit-laden Dubbel base. Manhattan cocktail complexity dominates at first sip before fruit flavors swing back: blackberry, baked apple, and ripe cherries. Oaky character and a whiskey bite wrap around dark berry notes for a lingering boozy finish.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B94YMnsgb6i/

Iowa

Toppling Goliath Brewing Company — Pseudo Sue

American Pale Ale, 5.8% ABV

Nobody’s surprised to see Tavour’s members rate Toppling Goliath’s world-renowned Pseudo Sue as the best beer from Iowa. Craft fans everywhere coo about this quenching Pale Ale that drinks like a full-fledged Imperial IPA. With a 100% Citra-hopped pedigree, its notes of mango and drippy orange swim in a sea of haze that no beer-lovin’ person could disagree with!

Kansas

Central Standard Brewing — Space Clouds (2017)

American Wild Ale, 7.9% ABV

Central Standard is one of the top coolship-wielding breweries in the world. That gives them a leg-up on crafting complex Farmhouse Ales like the 2017 vintage of Space Clouds. This beer is impressive because the Saison and Brett yeast strains had ample time to develop. Space Clouds began its journey over four years ago, and by the time it reached Tavour in 2020, the funk and acidity had reached their prime. Heavily dry-hopped with Motueka, Amarillo, and Azzaca, this beer is tart, fluffy, and teeming with zesty flavors of orange-lemonade and funked-out peach.

Kentucky

Braxton Brewing Company — Braxton Labs Edge of Mysteries

New England IPA, 6.5% ABV

Braxton Brewing might be down in whiskey country, but they keep hazeheads happy with their spectacularly juicy creations like Braxton Labs Edge of Mysteries. This seemingly straightforward, Citra-hopped brew is actually the result of over a year of experimentation. The brewers investigated malt after malt until they found a combination of grains that elevated the hops to new frontiers of tropically tangy flavor. Braxton saturated this brew with Citra Hops, so it rolls across the taste buds like a tangerine smoothie!

https://www.instagram.com/p/CIBeMtTlzAy/

Louisiana

Parish Brewing Company — Ghost in the Machine

Imperial New England IPA, 8.5% ABV

Forget going to Mardi Gras on Bourbon Street — if you want to have a really good time in Louisiana, go up to Parish Brewing in Broussard and order a pint of Ghost in the Machine. The folks at Parish stretch the limits of their brew kettles with each new batch. Using massive quantities of Citra Hops, they transform the smooth-drinking Hazy into a juicy blend of papayas, mangos, pineapples, and oranges that floods the palate in gushing tropical waves.

Maine

Foundation Brewing Company — Raspberry’s My Jam

Fruited Sour Ale, 4.8% ABV

Maine is home to some of the country’s premier Sour and Wild Ale makers — among them, Foundation Brewing. Pouring an enticing dark rose color with a playful, pink foamy head, their Raspberry’s My Jam is like having a little glass of cheer injected into the day. And, with its creamy lactose and juicy jamminess from real raspberries, each sip tastes like a joyful dream! It makes kicking back on the couch feel like lounging poolside, berry-daiquiri in hand.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B-uqsnzFXf7/

Maryland

Elder Pine Brewing & Blending Company — Bones

Farmhouse Saison, 6.4% ABV

This fruit-stuffed Saison was a highly anticipated collaboration between Elder Pine and the 2x Grammy-nominated metal band, August Burns Red. Tavour’s members went into a frenzy for it! The brewers filled Bones with a whopping 67 lbs of juicy guava and tangy pineapple in each barrel. Completely tropical and responsibly funky, it’s the brew that led some craft beer headbangers to believe “It was crafted by gods!”

Massachusetts

Greater Good Imperial Brewing Company — DDH PULP Daddy

Imperial New England IPA, 8% ABV

It’s almost like this beer was destined to be Tavour’s #1 Massachusetts beer from the get-go. It’s actually the extra juicy, extra fruity version of Massachusetts’ Most Tasty IPA Champion! Dry-hopped with heaping piles of orangey Citra and tropically-drenched Mosaic Hops, DDH PULP Daddy drinks smooth n’ tangy like fresh-pressed OJ. With every sip, the palate rejoices over its flavors of drippy mangos, ripe melon, and mild tides of piney bitterness.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CJ4UVtllwmj/

Michigan

Old Nation Brewing Company — Boss Tweed

Imperial New England IPA, 9.3% ABV

Folks drive through endless miles of cornfields to tiny Williamston, Michigan just to hang out at Old Nation’s laid-back pub. That, and to tip back pints of their must-try Hazy IPA — Boss Tweed. With its gentle waves of ripe mango, dripping peach, and bright tangerine, it tantalizes the senses. And, the body is so soft, it leaves no trace of the whopping 9.3% ABV. Definitely worth the drive, if you ask us.

Minnesota

BlackStack Brewing — Loud Pack (2020)

Imperial IPA, 8.3% ABV

If Snoop Dogg and Tommy Chong worked together at an orange juice stand, it’d smell a lot like Loud Pack Imperial IPA. This brew is all about citrus fruit and dank aromas! The brewers at BlackStack double dry-hopped it with epic amounts of Citra, Mosaic, El Dorado, and Galaxy Hops, so it roars with fresh-squeezed OJ and tangy tangerine flavors, along with a hit of dank melon and sticky, purple kush.

https://res.cloudinary.com/tavour/image/upload/c_fit,h_1000,w_1000/v1586567475/mcs01pwoi5dkgj2xlkbq.jpg

Missouri

Main & Mill Brewing Company — 400 Yard Walk

Fruited Berliner Weisse, 7.5% ABV

Craft fans in St. Louis have no shortage of famous breweries to choose from, and yet they voyage out to Main & Mill’s tiny pub space in the small town of Festus. 400 Yard Walk was one of the first beers ever released by Main & Mill that actually left the pub! The brewers load the tart treat with roughly 100 lbs of black raspberries and black currants per barrel. Then, they douse it with a hefty sprinkling of lime zest and some lactose, adding a layer of pithy tang and creamy complexity to every sip.

Montana

Mountains Walking Brewery & Pub — Double Grazing Clouds

Imperial New England IPA, 8.5% ABV

Ask any hazehead in Bozeman, Montana, and they’ll tell you Double Grazing Clouds is a world-class juicebomb. Which isn’t surprising, considering the Head Brewer at Mountains Walking honed his craft at Other Half! People swoon over this Hazy’s juicy orange and pineapple flavors, lucious dollops of mango, and hints of nectarous peach. And, it’s all wrapped in a pillow-soft body from plenty of flaked barley and oats in the mash.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CG0vB97oSd1/

Nebraska

White Elm Brewing Company — ¡Champurrado! (2020)

Barrel-Aged Imperial Stout, 13% ABV

In 2019, White Elm sold out of this Bourbon Barrel-Aged Stout in an hour and a half. Last year, the brewery made a little more and promised, “if it survives the day, we’ll set it aside specifically for Tavour." Luckily, it survived the taproom, but Tavour’s members devoured it nearly just as quickly. They’re some of the only people outside of Nebraska to experience this decadent Dark Beer’s creamy vanilla nuance with a soft kick of Guajillo chilies, tingle of cinnamon, and bittersweet raw cocoa nibs!

Nevada

Revision Brewing Company — Disco Ninja

New England IPA, 7% ABV

If this beer were a person, it would be John Travolta circa 1977 — but with nunchucks. It’s deceptively stealthy like a ninja, and it’s also here to party. The ultra-smooth body keeps its 7% ABV samurai sword totally concealed, while Citra, Galaxy, Mosaic, and Amarillo Hops flash across the tastebuds in a disco ball swirl of juicy orange and tropical pineapple. On the finish, look for a touch of pithy grapefruit.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CF-YglvJ9ik/

New Hampshire

Deciduous Brewing Company — Lollipop Forest: Triple Berry Muffin

Fruited Sour Ale, 5.5% ABV

The bakers, err… brewers at Deciduous frequently make headlines as one of the best in the Northeast. Which is something Tavour’s members did not fail to pick up on when they scored this Dessert Sour. Each gushy taste of Triple Berry Muffin envelops the tastebuds in swells of plump blueberries, lip-puckering raspberries, and dewey blackberries. And, with an added layer of ultra-velvety milk sugar, it sips down softer than a teddy bear from childhood. It’s no wonder this brew tastes JUST like your favorite fluffy, berry muffins.

New Jersey

Source Brewing — Single Silo Series: Ultra Cashmere

Imperial New England IPA, 8% ABV

New Jerseyans are seriously stoked on Source Brewing. Perhaps it’s the authentic farm-to-glass experience they offer, or maybe it’s brewery owner Philip Petracca’s appearance on Shark Tank that draws massive crowds. We think it’s because they brew show stopping IPAs like Single Silo Series: Ultra Cashmere. With no other hops to get in the way of Cashmere’s stone fruit sweetness, it tastes like pouring pressed apricots and pears into one glass, oranges, grapefruit, and honeydew into another, then blending them together with a buzzing 8% ABV.

New Mexico

Boxing Bear Brewing Company — Super Cereal

Imperial New England IPA, 7.5% ABV

Boxing Bear is known for using up to 3x the average amount of hops per barrel in their IPAs. This no-skimping mentality led them to dominate the state’s hop-game, winning the New Mexico IPA Challenge in 2019 for the THIRD TIME! And, because Tavour members are super serious about only drinking the best IPAs out there, the floral, mango, blueberry, and citrus flavors made Super Cereal a clear winner from New Mexico.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B_Ve9KRJr3T/

New York

Evil Twin Brewing NYC — Luxurious Luxury: Volume 3

Fruited Gose, 9% ABV

What’s better than luxury? Luxurious Luxury. It’s a level of opulence bordering on excess, like having a second Rolls Royce just to transport your silk pajamas. To attain that sumptuous elegance in this beer, Evil Twin’s head brewer Jeppe Jarnit-Bjergsø worked with the tart beer aficionados at The Veil (the brewery often credited with putting Richmond, Virginia on the craft map). Together, they imbued the brew with a yacht-load of rich, tropical passionfruit, tangy blackberry, lucious marshmallow, and decadent white truffle salt.

North Carolina

Resident Culture Brewing Company — Human Potential

Triple New England IPA, 10.3% ABV

You wouldn’t expect anything but awesomeness from a guy who honed his skills at California’s famed Russian River. And, that’s exactly what Chris “Tropes” Tropeano accomplishes with Human Potential, a Hazy TIPA amped up with 6 lbs of hops per barrel of the Pink Boots Society’s special Hop Blend. Resident Culture releases this limited-edition brew each year at their International Women’s Day party so folks can toast with its hopped up layers of fresh squeezed OJ, drippy mango, and tropical pineapple.

North Dakota

Drekker Brewing Company — Braaaaaaaains: Blueberry & Raspberry

Double Fruited Sour Ale, 6.9% ABV

You might think Drekker gave their Fruited Smoothie Sours the name “Braaaaaaaains” just because it sounded fun. It's actually the best way to describe these incredibly thick and luscious brews! One milkshake-smooth, fruit-jammy taste turns craft fans into zombies, hungry for one thing: more Braaaaaaaains! And BOY, were Tavour members hungry for this one. They snatched up every blueberry- and raspberry-packed can nearly as fast as they appeared on the app!

Ohio

Urban Artifact — Epicurean Series: Cherries Jubilee

Spiced/Herbed Beer, 7% ABV

Urban Artifact basically started the thick-drinking Fruited Sour trend that’s now dominating the craft beer scene, and they did it with beers like Cherries Jubilee. Brewed with real Balaton cherries, vanilla, cinnamon, and lactose, this delectable sipper tasted exactly like a cherry crumble pie! This beer is like the fruity treat that we all need to help end the day on a high note.

https://res.cloudinary.com/tavour/image/upload/c_fit,h_1000,w_1000/v1582674357/nocztalhizjrgvxiiwpm.jpg

Oklahoma

Prairie Artisan Ales — Weekend

Imperial Pastry Stout, 13.3% ABV

Prairie Artisan Ales is often credited as THE brewery that brought the Pastry Stout style to the world. It’s a big reason Dark Beer fans jump at any opportunity to get their hands on the brewery’s praise-worthy offerings like Weekend Stout. The Prairie crew brews this decadent beast with coconut, cacao nibs, and HEAPS of marshmallows. Totally smooth, with a subdued roastiness to balance out the richness, it tastes like fudgy marshmallow brownies!

Oregon

Gigantic Brewing Company — Bourbon Barrel-Aged MASSIVE! (2019)

Barrel-Aged English Barleywine, 14.4% ABV

To craft this tremendous Barleywine, the comic book nerds-slash-World Beer Cup award-winning brewers at Portland’s Gigantic filled their kettle with high-quality malts and let the boil roll for a whopping 8 hours. This allows all the sugars to caramelize, creating rich notes of butterscotch, and candied fig that swirl with hints of fudge. Then, they aged it in top-shelf Bourbon Barrels for two years! That long slumber mellowed the massive ABV so it vanishes behind a curtain of oaky vanilla and subtle hints of barrel char.

Pennsylvania

Levante Brewing Company — D.O.P.E. (Doctrine of Phonetic Equivalents)

Triple IPA, 11.7% ABV

Some days call for an IPA that packs a little more bang for its buck. On those days, a can of D.O.P.E. is just what the doctor ordered. The brewers at Levante blast this luscious Triple IPA with 100% Cryo Hops. A full force of Cryo Citra, Mosaic, and Simcoe Hops moves in with lactose and a massive malt sweetness to completely disguise the big, brawny ABV. It’s so luxuriously thick and fruity, one might think it’s a strawberry milkshake before they realize it’s actually a beer.

Rhode Island

Proclamation Ale Company — Penultimate Unicorn

Triple IPA, 10% ABV

The movie The Last Unicorn was freaky. It had that evil carnival, a fire monster, and even a talking cat — yikes! Luckily, Penultimate Unicorn came along to remind us that not all unicorns are bad! This whimsical hopbomb clocks in at a whopping 10% ABV, but it’s so succulently juicy, it seems someone cast a cloaking spell on that number. Plus, each sip enchants the palate with a mouthfeel as soft as a unicorn’s flowing mane — it’s like the brewers whipped some magic dust into this brew!

https://res.cloudinary.com/tavour/image/upload/c_fit,h_1000,w_1000/v1582245945/ylumw1xrl5tctivwv1ei.jpg

South Carolina

Westbrook Brewing Company — Gates of S'mordor (Booker's Bourbon Barrel Aged) (2020)

Barrel-Aged Imperial Pastry Stout, 11% ABV

Early in 2020, Westbrook released their Lord of the Rings-inspired Gates of S’mordor Dessert Stout, and Tavour members bought it up quicker than any other Dark Beer up until that point. And, when the South Carolina pastry pioneers — creators of famous treats like Mexican Cake and Anniversary Pecan Cookie — dropped a new Booker’s Bourbon Barrel-Aged Gates of S’mordor, it was no different. Tavour members CLAMORED for all the chewy, gooey, marshmallow flavors squished between melted Ghirardelli's dark chocolate and honey-kissed graham crackers.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B7mCtLrhDIR/

Tennessee

Bearded Iris Brewing — Tunnel Vision DDH W/ Citra

New England IPA, 6.8% ABV

IPAs from Bearded Iris top beer geeks’ charts everywhere. And, it’s clear that their Tunnel Vision DDH W/ Citra is #1 for Tavour’s hopheads. They simply devour this brew every time a new batch appears on the app! Crafted with Mosaic and Citra Hops, this Hazy also features the unique qualities of El Dorado Lupulin Oil. The concentrated hop oil delivers powerful waves of zesty citrus, giving each mouthwatering sip juicy flavors of a lemon Starburst.

Texas

Martin House Brewing — Miss Marmalade

Fruited Sour Ale, 7% ABV

Citrus, Citrus, ya ya da daa! Citrus, Citrus, ya ya heeee… This tart and tangy Fruited Sour had craft fans singin’ when they got a chance to snag some cans on Tavour. The award-winners at Martin House stuff Miss Marmalade with MASSIVE amounts of orange juice, orange zest, orange peel, orange purée, and lactose! Each sip rings with the juicy refreshment of an orange soda, the citrus tang of Sour Patch candies, and all the creamy smoothness of an orange push-pop.

Utah

SaltFire Brewing Company — Mobius Trip: Prickly Pear

Fruited Sour Ale, 8% ABv

When Tavour members first tasted Mobius Trip: Prickly Pear, it was a new delicacy from SaltFire Brewing, who are widely regarded as one of the best in Utah craft beer. It’s a Golden Sour Ale Solera the brewers aged for eight months in an oak foeder, before giving it an extended secondary fermentation with real prickly pear nectar. Each refreshing, effervescent sip tickles the tastebuds with a burst of sweet-tart juiciness, followed by a whisper of Sauvignon Blanc and a mildly oaky finish.

Vermont

Citizen Cider — Unified Press

Traditional Cider, 5.2% ABV

Unified Press offers a no-frills taste of why Vermont locals are so into Citizen’s traditional take on Ciders. The apple aficionados craft this tangy quencher with 100% locally-sourced apples, all pressed in-house. Its tiny touch of sweetness is strictly powered by natural fructose — no concentrate or added sugar, whatsoever. Scents of apples and white wine dominate the aroma, teasing the off-dry flavors of fresh-pressed juice that wait in the light and bubbly pour.

Virginia

Adroit Theory Brewing Company — REVOLT (Ghost 843)

Triple New England IPA, 10% ABV

The crew at Adroit Theory are masterful hop handlers, crafting some of the highest rated IPAs on Tavour — period. At the time this limited-edition IPA hit the app, hopheads raved that REVOLT was “an easy-drinking Triple” that’s “quite possibly one of the best beers of the style.” Because, true to its name, REVOLT is a rebellion against biting hop bitterness. Even as a Triple IPA packed to the brim with Citra, Mosaic, Azacca, Idaho 7, and Comet Hops, it sips down like a glass of Tropicana mango-orange juice chased with a scoop of melon sorbet.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CF5AtmfDkiB/

Washington

Fremont Brewing Company — 2019 Bourbon Barrel Aged Dark Star: Coffee Edition

Barrel-Aged Imperial Oatmeal Stout, 12.4% ABV

As the #3 Oatmeal Stout in the World on popular beer-rating site, BeerAdvocate, this brew is one of the most sought-after bottles in the craft universe. It’s the one Dark Beer fiends keep tucked away in a cellar, waiting for just the right occasion to break the wax seal. The brewers at Fremont created this decadent vintage by aging their Dark Star Stout in Kentucky Bourbon barrels for 8, 12, 18, and 24 months. Then, they blended the different ages and infused it with coffee to harmoniously mix rich notes of vanilla, oak, and espresso.

Wisconsin

The Brewing Projekt — Puff Tart XL: Cherry, Mandarin, Guava

Fruited Sour Ale, 8% ABV

If you mixed Fruity Pebbles cereal with the marshmallows from Lucky Charms, you’d be close to capturing the larger-than-life, tropical ambrosia flavors in this Dessert Sour Ale. It seems Tavour’s members, however, were much more keen on drinking the beer itself, rather than mixing cereals. The team at The Brewing Projekt blew the lid off their expectations with brontosaurus-sized portions of Mandarin, Guava, and Marshmallow flowing in this XL release. It’s a full-fledged flavor fest of rich, candy-coated, fruity deliciousness.

Did you notice we missed a few states? That’s because Tavour doesn’t currently work with any breweries in Alabama, Arkansas, Mississippi, South Dakota, West Virginia, or Wyoming.

Have a favorite independent craft brewery in any of these states? Tell Tavour about ‘em!

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

#Beer #News #Brewery

2 notes · View notes

vegetasleftsock · 4 years ago

Text

A Devil’s Smile (Vegeta x OC)

Part 1

Chapter 2

Saturday morning arrived. Golden sunbeams poured through open blinds in a window next to Milla’s bed. Waking up, she blinked a couple of times to try to adjust to the light.

“No use,” Milla thought to herself. “My eyelids feel like they weigh ten pounds each.”

She shifted onto her stomach and plopped her head straight into her pillow.

“So soft.”

Milla breathed in the scent of her pillow in a deep breath. It smelled like apples- the scent of her favorite fabric softener.

Suddenly a wave of realization and horror washed over Milla. She used her arms to push herself up from the pillow, eyes wide.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” Milla whispered aloud. She flipped over and began to rummage through the sheets to try to find her phone.

“Where is it?” Milla said, frantic. “Fuck!”

She unravelled her comforter and shook it until her phone made a loud thud on the floor.

“9:52? No! Fucking shit!”

“3 missed calls?? All from Janice?? Great.”

Milla clicked on the missed call and the phone began to ring. As she was waiting for the phone to pick up, she rushed to the closet, pulling her oversized t-shirt over her shoulders as she walked.

“Hello?” the voice in the phone said.

“Hey, yea,” replied Milla while hopping into one leg of her black slacks. “Is Janice there?”

“No, she left to run errands. Joey’s here though, I’ll give you to him,” said the voice.

“Thank you, dear angels above, for watching over me,” Milla breathed a sigh of relief that it was Joey, her bandmate and coworker that she was going to have to talk to and not her boss, Janice.

“Ya, you’re welcome. Although, I don’t know if I’d fall under the category of angel,” Joey laughed.

“Joey, I overslept.” Milla said.

“No shit. I told Janice I sent you to try to get more of that special printer ink from the Office Depot off of 5th,” Joey said.

“You told me that printer ink was discontinued,” Milla said, with a ponytail holder in between her teeth. Her hands stayed busy pulling her hair back and brushing out bumps with her fingers.

“Uh-huh. But I didn’t tell her that,” Joey said. “That way when you get here and you show up empty handed, at least you have a reason, ya know?”

“Oh ok, nice! Damn, Joey- I owe you!” Milla said.

“Just get me a pack of cigs and some pretzels for lunch and we’ll call it even.”

“You got it. Thanks again, friend.” Milla smiled.

“No problem bud. See ya soon.” Joey replied, and then hung up the phone.

Milla took one last look in the mirror. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and silver jewelry hung from her ears. The jewelry was vintage and an emerald sat in the middle of each earring. The earrings were a prized possession- her grandmother gave them to her the year she started college.

A black blouse with floaty long sleeves and a bow tied loosely around her neck hung slightly off her small frame. The all black outfit made her look put together- professional. Greatly contrasting from the persona she wears at home and on stage during her performances.

A black and white cat curled through Milla’s legs as she leaned against her dining room chair to strap her tall chunky heels onto each foot.

“Okay, Chomps. I promise I’ll feed you in just a moment.”

Chomps continued to rub his head against her ankles and calves aggressively. Just as Milla placed her foot to the floor to walk to the cabinet where she kept the cat food, Chomps placed his teeth on her ankle and bit down- hard.

“OW, fuck, Chomps! Seriously?” Milla yelled. “I said I was on my way to feed you!”

Blood trickled down her ankle onto her heel, but she was already late. No time to waste.

Milla opened the cabinet and pulled out a measuring cup to portion Chomps’s food. He obviously had an food obsession issue. She dumped the food into his bowl, grabbed her keys and ran out the door.

She sat down into her small silver Jetta and started the engine. As she started her car, it reminded her of the night before.

That guy- the one with the black, spiky hair and the death glare. Milla allowed herself to reflect and replay her interaction with him.

She never even got his name. Not that she really cared. What was his problem? He approached her after the show at her car for what reason?

If he wanted to hurt her or be a pervert, there was nothing stopping him. Milla was strong for her small stature, but she was nothing compared to him. He was clearly ripped. She could tell by every muscle in his toned arms, folded over his chest that also appeared to be rock solid. His shoulders were big and built and even though he wasn’t the tallest guy she had ever met, he still towered over her.

“Too bad he’s fucking odd. He’s hot.” Milla thought to herself.

Before she could think any further about the situation, Milla had arrived at work. She walked through the front doors of the doctor’s office and found her desk, acting like she wasn’t an hour and a half late.

“Good morning, Milla. Did you find anything at the Office Depot? I really need that ink.” Janice, the office manager and Milla’s boss said.

Milla took a deep breath and spun around in her chair to face Janice.

“Janice, I’ve got some bad news about that. They discontinued the ink.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” Janice said. “Did you ask to speak to the manager?”

“I did,” Milla said. “I even asked the manager to call the distributor and they said it’s production has been indefinitely suspended.

“Great,” Janice sighed. “Next time can you clock out if you’re going to take more than 30 minutes to drive across town? Thanks.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and left Milla at her desk alone.

“NeXt TiMe CaN YOu ClOck Out,” Milla mocked.

Even though Milla was annoyed by Janice’s never-ending passive aggressive remarks, she was relieved to be relatively unscathed throughout the day.

However, Milla didn’t get to take her lunch break, which means she didn’t have time to get Joey his thank you gifts for saving her behind.

Milla tied up any loose ends and threw her purse over her shoulder. She waved goodbye to her coworkers and she walked to the back of the office to find Joey.

“Hi, friend.” Milla said to Joey, who was slinging his Levi jean jacket over his broad shoulders.

Joey was about 6 foot, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was average build, but his arms and legs were lanky.

Any girl would normally fawn over Joey, but Milla considered him to be like a brother.

“Heading out?” Joey said while grabbing his keys from his desk and sticking them into his jacket pocket.

“Yup. Let me take you out to dinner since I didn’t get to buy you pretzels and cigs.” Milla said, starting towards the back exit of the office.

“I’m down. As long as I get something to smoke and we go somewhere that has the big kind of pretzels.”

Milla laughed. “Sure thing, dude.”

They both climbed into Milla’s Jetta and started driving to one of their favorite breweries, not far from the bar they perform at every Friday night.

On the drive over, Milla lit Joey a joint and told her the story of the guy from the bar. How he met her at her car, got defensive, but never even tried to lay a hand on her.

Joey took a puff and laughed. He told Milla that he assumed the mystery man was probably too nervous to tell her that she was pretty.

Once they got to the brewhouse, they ordered a full flight of beer, pretzels, and a medium pepperoni and basil pizza to share.

They discussed work, talked shit about Janice, and Joey talked about his multiple sketchy encounters with recent hookups.

“Alright, you ready to call it a night?” Joey said.

“Ugh, no I really wanted to finish my beer. It’s only 9:30.” Milla said, pouting at Joey.

“Normally I would stay with you, but I have to meet my mom for breakfast at 8. She’ll have my neck if I’m not there.”

“Understood.” Milla said.

“I’ll just grab an Uber so you don’t have to drive. You should too. Call me if you need anything and please be careful.” Joey said, knowing he couldn’t convince her to leave.

“Ew, you’re not my dad.” Milla laughed. “But yes, I will be extra careful if you insist.”

“Thanks.” Joey patted Milla on the back before heading outside to catch his ride.

About 15 minutes later, Goku, Bulma and Krillin walked into the brewery. They sat at the bar, close enough to Milla to get a hint of who she was.

Goku squinted at Milla. “Hmmm..”

“What is it, Goku?” Krillin asked.

“I feel like I’ve seen that girl somewhere, but I can’t put my finger on where.”

“Ha! I know,” Bulma laughed. “That’s the girl that got Vegeta all flustered!”

“From yesterday? The singer?” Goku asked. “She looks so different!”

“She probably works, Goku. Singing isn’t usually super lucrative.” Bulma explained.

“But she’s so good at it!” Goku said. “Excuse me, miss?”

Goku had moved over so that he and Milla were a seat apart. He tapped on her shoulder to get her attention.

“Uh- Hi.” Milla smiled. “Do I know you?”

The guy appeared relatively harmless and the two friends who joined him gave off good vibes. Milla decided to lessen her guard a little.

“Not really. We saw you sing last night. I just wanted to let you know that we all really enjoyed it!” Goku smiled. “By the way my name is Goku and these are my friends, Krillin and Bulma.”

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Milla. Thanks for the compliment and for coming out last night. I’d love to see y’all there next Friday as well.” Milla beamed, cheeks a little pink from the alcohol.

“I wouldn’t mind going again,” Bulma said. “Your singing is great but it was pretty great to watch Vegeta get all flustered too.” She laughed.

It suddenly clicked for Milla. The blue haired girl and the guy with the nice smile were the ones who were at the table with the grumpy mystery man.

“Vegeta?” Milla moved her head to the side a little. “That’s the guy who got embarrassed and left after I flirted with him, right?”

“Yup. That’s Vegeta!” Goku laughed. “He’s a little hard around the edges but he’s a good guy.”

“Hard around the edges. That’s one way to explain it.” Milla said eyebrows raised. She took another swig of her stout beer.

“Wait-,” Krilled said. “You sound like you know Vegeta.”

“Hardly.” Milla smiled. “He approached me at my car after the show.”

Bulma laughed. “So that’s where he went! It doesn’t sound like he made the best impression.”

Milla puffed up her chest and held her arms out to the side like she had big muscles. “If you knew who you were talking to, you wouldn’t be laughing. Foul woman!” Milla said, imitating Vegeta.

The four of them shared a laugh before Goku was pulled off his barstool.

“Kakarot! Did you forget about our night training? I’ve been waiting for over 30 minutes and I find you HERE of all places, doing god knows what with-“

Before Vegeta could continue, Milla placed her hand on Vegeta’s shoulder.

“Dude. Shut up, relax. Drink a beer or something before your head explodes.”

Vegeta’s face pulled in a snarl as he looked to see who would have the nerve to say such a thing. His eyes met with Milla’s and his expression turned from anger to shock.

Bulma, Goku, and Krillin sat and watched. They were surprised at Milla’s bluntness with volatile and moody Vegeta.

“You,” Vegeta said, brushing Milla’s hand off of his shoulder. “What are you doing here? Are you all just friends now or something?”

“And what does it matter to you?” Milla laughed.

“Ugh.” Vegeta scoffed. “You’re intoxicated.”

He crossed his arms and inhaled the air again. “And you’re bleeding.”

“What?” Milla furrowed her brow in confusion. She was definitely weirded out again.

He leaned down to follow the smell.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Milla cursed at Vegeta.

“Here.” Vegeta brushed his finger against the bite marks on her ankle. “Looks like some kind of small animal marked you.”

Milla then remembered that this morning she didn’t have time to attend to her wound from Chomps.

“Oh, you’re right. That was Chomps.” Milla and Vegeta’s eyes met once more.

“Wow, Vegeta! That’s crazy how you knew that just by smelling.” Goku said.

Vegeta scoffed and rolled his eyes in response.

“Who’s Chomps?” Krillin asked.

“My cat. He bites when he’s hungry, so I named him Chomps.” Milla said.

“Hmph. Your cat and I have something in common then.” Vegeta said while giving Milla a sly grin.

“Kakarot, I’ll let you play your little games for now. But I will not be as lenient if you fail to show for training tomorrow morning. ON TIME.”

Before Milla could even process Vegeta’s words, he had already left.

“Looks like someone has a little crush on Milla,” Bulma said and gave Milla an encouraging wink.

“What’s his deal?” Milla asked. “Why can’t he just buy me a beer or ask me out like any normal human being.”

“Probably because he’s a Saiyan!” said Goku. “And so am I!”

“A what?” Milla said, looking lost.

“I can explain it all later,” Bulma said. “If you’re free you should come over to my place tomorrow night and I can fill you in. I could make dinner for everyone!”

“Are you sure we can’t do it tonight,” Goku whined. “I’m hungry.”

“Goku, you just cleared the wing place we went to of their entire inventory for the week. You don’t think you can wait until tomorrow?” Krillin asked.

“I guess.” Goku pouted. He quickly perked up. “Can you come, Milla? It’d be so fun to have you there!”

“Sure, I can go.” Milla said. She was apprehensive, but the kind nature of the three in front of her and the craft beer bubbling through her system told her to not worry about it.

“Great! Do you have an iPhone?” Bulma asked.

Milla dug in her pockets and pulled out her iPhone.

“Awesome,” Bulma said. “I’ll just connect to your phone through mine and give you all of our numbers, and it’ll put your number into our phones.”

At this point, Milla was ready to go home and sleep. She nodded her head in agreement.

“You look tired Milla, do you need a ride home?” Krillin asked, aware of how quiet Milla had gotten.

“Please.” Milla replied, her eyes fighting to stay open.

“I can help. Where do you live?” Goku said.

“Apple Cove apartments. Not too far from the Sprint skyscraper.” Milla said.

“Got it! Put your hand on my shoulder.” Goku smiled at Milla, helping her onto her feet from the bar.

“It’s okay, Goku I can walk.” Milla said.

“Just trust me.” Goku looked down at Milla and held his hand out.

Milla reluctantly gave her hand to Goku and he placed it on his shoulder. Milla’s arm was almost completely extended, making the height difference between the two of them glaringly obvious.

Krillin chuckled. “Man, I thought I was short.”

“Bye Milla! See you tomorrow at the party!” Bulma said as she waved.

“Bye, nice meeting you. See you tomorrow.”

Goku placed his fingers to his forehead and before Milla could blink again, she was in front of her apartment complex.

“Holy shit, am I really that drunk?” Milla said, eyes wide.

“It’s instant transmission. Pretty cool, huh?”

“I’m not even going to crack open that can of worms tonight,” Milla said before hiccuping.

“Is it okay if I walk you to your apartment?” Goku asked.

“No really, you’ve done a lot. Thank you for all your kindness.” Milla said.

“Please. I wouldn’t feel too good if anything bad happened to you.” Goku said while scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay-“ Milla said reluctantly. “Promise you’re not creepy?”

“I don’t think I’m creepy?” Goku said innocently while looking at Milla.

“I don’t think you are either,” Milla chuckled between hiccups.

Goku walked Milla to her apartment, made sure she was settled, and even fed Chomps.

She was fast asleep by the time he was ready to go home. Goku pressed his fingers to his forehead and transmitted to the kitchen of Capsule Corp.

“Boy am I starving!” Goku said while rubbing his stomach.

“Kakarot.” Vegeta said, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Oh, hi Vegeta,” Goku said with his head in the fridge. “Did you come to get snacks too?”

“What I was doing in this kitchen before you got here is none of your business.” Vegeta said, pushing the bags of fruit snacks further into the pocket of his black sweatpants.

“Oh. Okay.” Goku said. “That Milla girl is really nice, the singer one?”

“So that’s her name. She has an attitude,” Vegeta stated plainly.

“I’m guessing that’s something you like in women.” Goku shrugged, a plate with an entire turkey in his hands.

“Kakarot-“ Vegeta growled, stepping closer to Goku.

“Good news, she’s coming to Bulma’s get together tomorrow night. You’ll get to spend more time with her. If you play your cards right, you might be able to have a normal conversation with her too.” Goku laughed.

“Why do you smell of her?” Vegeta asked.

“I took her home. She was pretty drunk and I didn’t want her to try to make it home alone.” Goku said in between bites. “You could’ve taken her if you would’ve stayed longer.

Vegeta scoffed and walked out of the room. “Training. 8 AM. DON'T be late.”

#vegeta x original character #vegeta x oc #vegeta fanfic #vegeta #prince vegeta #dragon ball #dragon ball z #goku #bulma #krillin

4 notes · View notes

skepticaloccultist · 5 years ago

Text

The Continuous Irrelevance of Aleister Crowley

Like many young occultists over the past century I discovered Aleister Crowley at an early age. As I sought out material to feed my growing curiosity of all things occult in my teens, Crowley was a rather high profile figure. Mentioned on Ozzy Osborne albums, referenced by the Beatles, lauded by yellow journalists during the "Satanic Panic" years of the 1980s as a "devil worshipper", Crowley's PR machine has been going strong for decades.

At 15 years of age I read "Magick: In Theory and Practice", and its approach to magical operations seemed near scientific in comparison to the mountains of new age gobbledegook that stuffed the shelves of my local chain bookstores. I was instantly drawn to this near mythic figure, buying into both the pro and con sensationalism that surrounded this early 20th century author.

During his life Crowley existed in a sphere of influence that had reverberations across the past century. His involvement with the "Occult Revival" of the late 19th and early 20th centuries meant he would figure into much of contemporary occultism's self identity. His membership in Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn (and later the O.T.O., and his own organization the A∴A∴), would place him among the literati of occultism by his early 20s. W.B. Yeats, Algernon Blackwood, Arthur Machen, MacGregor Mathers, A.E Waite, - his circle of influence and influencers was vast.

Crowley tended to cultivate the most sensational stories of his adventures, inviting the very yellow journalists who would slander him to dine in private clubs and to visit him in his various retreats. Invariably they would be shocked by Crowley and the things they saw going on around him (drugs! sex! velvet robes!) and return to churn out endless blather for the Daily Mail and its similarly factless ilk.

Edward Alexander Crowley was born into a wealthy family in Warwickshire, a private school educated heir to a brewery fortune. His wealth meant that doors of society were open to him that would be closed to any other. He used this wealth and his flair of the sensational to cultivate a following of often cult like adoration. He preferred rich wealthy women, pretty young men, and the enviable depths of their purses as he had himself blown most of his family fortune before reaching age 30.

For all of his transgressive actions he was little more than a coked up rich boy playing at being a magus. His self mythologizing centered around subjects that in the 21st century are rather banal. He shocked the world with such outrageous personal habits as doing drugs, being drunk and bisexual, and practicing yoga. Not so shocking in the light of the modern era.

Scholarly hindsight has not been very kind to Crowley. Crowley is a commoners idea of what makes a scholar. His cursory private education introduction to Greek, Latin and a bit of Hebrew may make him seem like he is some kind of intellectual powerhouse, but a sound education in classics was a primary part of any wealthy young man's education in the early 20th century. Unlike today, where most occultists couldn't conjugate a simple verb in Latin, in Crowley's day it was a basic requirement in order to graduate school.

Crowley, as well as many of his early contemporaries in the Occult Revival (like Mathers), was a shit translator. Intellectually lazy, profoundly trapped in his sense of English cultural superiority, and unable to take criticism from his betters. He was a dilettante, drifting from subject to subject without any real depth, only surface interest long enough to churn out what would be an oeuvre of shallow understanding of the cultures he pretends to grasp and explain.

Unfortunately Crowley has become, over the course of the past century, a kind of gold standard in occultism. Yet once one moves beyond merely reading the texts to the actual practice of magic one can see clearly that Crowley was a posh overrated actor whose cultivation of transgressive self mythologizing was more important to him than accurate translation, practical instruction, or indeed any form of enlightenment.

One facet of Crowley's life that has led to his continued popularity was his involvement in, and wholesale restructuring of, the Ordo Templi Orientis. The O.T.O. had existed for decades as a practical magic order before Crowley would become its head. Once he was in charge Crowley reimagined the O.T.O. as his personal religious order. Crowning his book "Liber Al" (Liber AL vel Legis, often called the Book of the Law) as it's primary religious text, copy pasting the initiatory hierarchies of freemasonry that so many other orders used, and fitting in some Catholic ceremony to flesh it out, Crowley remade the O.T.O in the image of himself (or at least the self he imagined) in the name of his "religion" Thelema.

It is the O.T.O. that has long kept Crowley's works in print. Even though most if not all of his written works are long ago in the public domain the OTO uses its lawyers to attack any publisher who dare tread on its turf. The threat of legal action being more costly than any potential publishing revenue, most relent. They have staked a claim of ownership over the Crowley oeuvre and in doing so have kept their coffers filled with income and their membership full of clueless dues paying neophytes. A look at the wikipedia entry for Crowley has the hand of the O.T.O. all over it. Rewritting Crowley's rape of disciples as "sadomasochism", glossing over abusive behaviors, and generally pushing the mythology Crowley himself attempted to cultivate.

In a conversation recently with an occultist friend who was years ago instrumental in helping the O.T.O. gain control of Crowley's published works, he revealed that he had resigned from the Order. It no longer represented the ideals he had joined it for many decades ago. It was a story I had heard before, yet never from someone who was as high ranking as he had been.

Curiously Crowley dictated the majority of his works to hired secretarial assistants and did not know how to use a typewriter. While his interests did cover a swath of very important occult ideas, and one does have to stand with some respect at the overall volume of written works Crowley would produce, rarely does a work penetrate into substantial path work. "Magick" has some good ideas, as does the "Book of Lies", but if we were to strip out the ego of Crowley, and remove the numerous errors of both translation and historic/cultural interpretation, there would be little left of Crowley's works.

Aleister Crowley will continue to be popular, as his popularity sells books and merchandise by the droves and there are those who claim the right to financial gain on the trademark of his name. As well he will continue to be read by teens seeking out a path of their own, and who may take decades to fully understand the irrelevance of Crowley to the history of the occult.

Yet the time has come for a closer look at the preposterousness of holding up this ragged self styled philosopher full of cocaine, sexual predation, and an inflated sense of ego as some kind of magical guru and prophet to whom one might seek a path toward knowing. Had Crowley come to any sense of knowing in his life it would have been unlikely to have ended in such drudgery and poverty as it did.

116 notes · View notes

nymphl · 5 years ago

Text

In the General’s Bed - Regency!Hux x Reader - Ch. 6 - To resent a General

A/N - Hello, sweethearts! Here’s chapter 6 of ITGB. This chapter has a lemony scene, a bit more detailed then the others in this story xD I hope you like this chapter, it’s one of my fav, even more because it entails a bit of shift in this story and what I’m planning for future chapters xD Anyways, thanks for leaving notes and reblogging. I appreciate your feedback very much.

Story Summary: The General is cornered… Upon returning from a successful campaign in Battle of Waterloo, Armitage Hux knows he has no excuses left; he must produce the much-needed heir. The problem is, when the two of you parted five years ago, it was not in the best of terms. Now, he may not find his wife, you, so willing as he first expected, nor keen on taking part in any of his political games. [Hux x Reader – Hux x You – Regency AU].

Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.

AO3 Tags: Regency Era; Alternate Universe; Alternate Story; Alternate Universe - Historical; Arranged Marriage; Politics; War; Napoleonic Wars; England - 1815; Married Couple; OOCness; Smut

Wordcount: 7898

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“THREE… TWO… ONE… THERE YOU GO, LITTLE LORD.”

You smiled as Lux positioned his chubby hands over the piano keys and played the brief song you had just taught him. He was a smart kid and learned fast. Part of you would rather if he did not catch onto things so quickly, as to delay his imminent parting as much as possible.

“Well done,” you said, before pressing your lips lightly to his forehead. You knew Rae Sloane was watching everything with her attentive eyes as she read a book in the nearby ottoman. “Well done.”

As he continued to play, you let yourself think of Hux’s words. Of his whispered confession last night.

My damned father made sure I will only have access to the total sum of my inheritance only when I have an heir of my own.

You remembered you reacted with a loud What? and that you told yourself there was nothing to be surprised about. Brendol Hux would do anything in his power to undermine his own son — flesh, blood… those were notions the previous General did not give a damn about. If he could jeopardize Armitage’s standing, he certainly would.

The very thought made you bit your bottom lip in anger. You did not know which father was worse, if yours — with his prejudice and blatant disregard of women — or Brendol — with his dubious character and… well, you could also say blatant disregard of women and his own flesh and blood.

There were days in which you were grateful for having barely interacted with the man himself. And in most of them, you pitied Hux for having had to put up with him for almost three decades.

Bad character aside, Brendol’s actions posed a problem for both of you. Armitage had the money, he just could not use it until…

You sighed.

And recalled Rae’s own words to you.

…give him a damned heir…

Well, it seemed now you had no other choice. It was either give him a damned heir or watch him making a deal with Lady Carise — the devil herself. Borrowing money from a banker was completely out of the picture.

“Mama… Mama!”

You were startled as Lux’s voice reached you. He had placed both of his tiny hands on your face, directing your attention to him. The piano keys — his recent fixation — completely forgotten.

“I am terribly sorry, Little Lord. I am…” You stopped yourself before you could lie. Rae cast a glance at you from her book, eyes narrowed. “Very much distracted today.”

He nodded, but his face hid nothing of his disappointment. You chewed your bottom lip; overcome with guilty, but feeling your mind racing with possibilities all the same. You had to find a way to get you out of this situation — to repay for his… understanding. To name it as kindness would be a bit too much.

The fact is… Hux had a meeting with his investors today — one in which he would be accompanied by Lord Mitaka — and only God could know what their reaction would be as soon as they knew how little profit the Arkanis Brewery would give them in the next few months — it is, if Hux found a way to pay for his debts. You admitted that in such devastating scenario, the was the fastest and safest way to get out of this predicament, without leading him to compromise his candidacy for Prime Minister, would be to accept Lady Carise’s money.

Nevertheless, you would have no way out if you did not get pregnant soon. Well, needless to say you were trying, but there had to be something else — something faster and precise — that could be done.

With a defeated sigh, you messed his ginger hair. He ran his fingers through his tresses and stared at you with a scowl — to which you did your best to muffle your laughter. He was just too adorable when he was mad!

“Mama! And Lord Hux?”

“What about Lord Hux, Little Lord?” You pressed a lovingly kiss to his cherub cheeks and watched with amusement as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. He was indeed mad at you.

Rae Sloane cast a glance at you; one that showed that in spite of her disapproval of Lux’s inappropriate behavior, she was still at least a bit amused with his frustration.

“The violin, Mama!”

Ah yes…

He had been talking excitedly for a good few minutes — a few days now — about Hux’s violin — you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact Lux had actually seen his uncle playing the instrument. It had been years since you last saw him near it — and you barely heard anything he said.

You sighed.

“I know you want to play violin, but listen to me, I myself don’t know how to play it and I’m not sure Lord Hux has the time to teach you.”

His face fell.

It was obvious he had developed some sense of… admiration to your husband. He worshiped him — honestly, Lux was a very lonely child and he had the tendency of looking up to anyone who paid him a measly few minutes of attention.

You left the bench and kneeled in front of him, adjusting his clothes and bringing him closer to you by his waistcoat.

“But I can keep teaching you how to play the piano.”

He smiled. Begrudgingly, but he did.

“Now?”

You were ready to answer the both of you should get ready to have lunch and later — after you got some well needed time to send a message to your contact in The Times — you could teach him a thing or two about the piano, but you were interrupted by the sound of someone opening the door of the drawing room.

Looking up, you were surprised to see your husband crossing the threshold. The boy beamed up as he saw Hux and he quickly left your embrace to run towards his new idol.

You rolled your eyes.

“I want your violin.”

“Lux Dameron!” Rae admonished him; her voice was harsh and hid nothing of her disapproval. “That’s no proper way to ask for anything.”

He lowered his head, ashamed and muttering a small, feeble apology. You could barely hear him saying I’m sorry, Lord Hux.

Armitage, however, did not seem to mind the boy’s lack of etiquette. Blue eyes focused on you — and the intensity of his stare made you shiver; it felt as if he could read your thoughts and what you were planning… or thinking about planning… —, he dismissed Lux’s apology, “I’ll teach you how to play it one of these days.”

Lux looked up at him with adoration in his chestnut eyes. Your husband was doing a hell of good job of turning the boy against you and Rae. Firstly, he promised to teach him how to ride a horse and now… he promised violin lessons.

With a sharp intake of breath, Rae fixed her dark eyes on him, making Lux hide behind Hux’s long legs.

“Really?”

Hux nodded, dismissing Rae’s stare as if it meant nothing. You wondered how many times she terrorized him in his childhood — and how many times she did not act on those stares, if Hux treated it so lightly. “Now, you must go with Lady Rae and get ready for lunch.”

“Yes!”

He was so excited at the prospect of spending more time with Hux, he paid Rae little to no attention — a fatal mistake if your memory did not fail you; Rae would probably ground him for the entire week and only you knew how terrible Lux’s mood got whenever he was banned from visiting the stables and his beloved friend horses, but at the moment, he did not seem to even remember how devilish Lady Sloane could be.

Accepting her hand, he followed her out of the drawing room humming to a childish song. You were ready to trail after them, when you felt your husband’s hand enclosing around your wrist.

“I never allowed you to leave, Lady Hux.”

A happy sigh left you as he brought your body closer to his and his lips fell upon yours in a slow, seductive kiss. He entangled his fingers in your hair — and if he did not know how to drive you mad with want, you would have scolded him for undoing your perfect hairdo — and angled your head for his better pleasure; his tongue running enticingly over the rim of your lips.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, and then slowly sliding them into his ginger locks — you almost expected him to trap your hands between his, but this time he did not seem to mind a disheveled appearance —, you gladly let him in, stroking your own tongue boldly against his.

He let you go after what seemed a good few minutes and pressed a kiss to your temples. You fought to reign in your breathing as he lowered his forehead to yours.

“I know what you’re thinking…” You wetted your lips nervously. “He isn’t a Dameron and you dislike seeing him being addressed as such.”

There was a minute of silence as you caressed his face.

“No. He isn’t,” he replied as he put some space between the two of you.

A tired sigh left your lips.

You could have pointed out he could never be a Hux — not if he wanted to become Prime Minister in the near future — and that he once hated his family name, but you understood what he meant. After Brendol passed away, the name Hux gained a new face: his — and later on yours —, and with it a new blank chapter; one he was willing to write differently, for the sake of his new family. And Lux is family.

Part of you wondered if the desire to recognize Lux as family came from the desire to right his father’s — and yours too — wrongs. If not for you and Rae, his fate would be… probably worse than Hux’s.

However, you both knew that if anyone just dreamed about Lux being his nephew and your little brother it would be the end of his aspirations. Your standing in the town would be compromised and no sane King would approve of him as the Head of the Parliament. And that position meant a great deal to Hux.

You walked to him, until you invaded his personal space.

“Would you rather if he were your son?” you whispered against his lips, but as soon as the words were out, you realized how stupid that question was.

He chose silence.

You swallowed.

“How did it go?” you said, trying to change the topic and get some control over the situation. “What did the board say?”

It was all it took for him to break apart. Again.

You pursed your lips, trying not to let his actions get to you so easily. It was obvious he did not like to be further inquired on his meeting with his investors. It must have gone horribly if he was so against talking about it. That… or he did not like to talk about business at all.

Part of you understood where he came from. Most husbands did not talk to their wives about… Well, they simply did not talk. Most wives were there just for the show. Very few of them ran their estates and even fewer understood about business and politics. Even if they were interested in such topics, it was expected of them to shy away from them. Except for the Ton politics, noble ladies… Wealthy families, it is… they did not — should not — waste their precious time with the intricacies of business and income… They just… spent money as if there was no tomorrow and in case they lost it, well… they simply gained it back through marriages.

An accomplished lady knew about dancing, playing the piano, embroidery… but never about income and basic taxation. And the few men who understood the intricacies of the business world, probably came from the lower classes, working class, as Armitage’s family did. Your father, for one, knew nothing of business. He ran his estate with the same regard he showed your mother: which is to say, almost none. When he realized he spent all his wealth on courtesans back in London, he decided to regain it at the gambling table.

But you were no trophy wife. You refused to be. You would not back down. Sitting beside him on the setee, you took his hand between yours. Slowly, you traced the gold band on his finger.

“What did they say, Armitage?”

He narrowed his eyes at you; a clear warning. You should tread carefully when looking for answers, pressing him would not do. You rolled your eyes. You were not scared in the least.

“We’re not having this conversation, Lady Hux.”

You snorted.

“Well then, Lord Hux, perhaps you’d like to tell me what you’ll tell Lady Sindian.”

He inhaled sharply at your words.

“Or you’re not having this conversation with me either?”

“Careful, Lady Hux.”

You knew you were playing with fire, but you were not about to back down. Not now. Not ever. You told him you were in this for real — you told him that if he wanted to be Prime Minister, he would need you and you stood by that. If he wanted to get out of this debt, he would have to start trusting you.

If he thought you would not understand about his business, the least he could do is to tell you about how he would approach Lady Sindian. He would have to be smarter than her with his excuses — a simply refusal would not do.

You knew and he knew Lady Carise was dying to get back at your family — at you — for years now. If not having you pressing your father to let you marry Armitage, she probably would be your stepmother now… A Marquise. Having Lord Hux owing her a large sum of money seemed the right way to go. It did not seem to you she would let such matter go that easily. Unless… Unless she had something else in mind to use against the two of you. Something bigger. Something better.

That’s why he would have to be smooth. Lady Carise was not just any woman. Just like you, she did not bow to other men — she did not take no for answer.

You were ready to inquire him further, when you felt him bringing your wrist to his mouth. Your heart quickened as got a brief taste of your skin. A gasp left you as he pulled you to him, forcing you to straddle his hips. His lips quickly found yours in a searing kiss. You knew what he was doing and even though you thoroughly disliked it, you would let him have his secrets.

For now.

You woke up later with a strong headache.

There was no need to look for Hux’s watch-pocket to know it was late afternoon — he had left you spent, and you slept more than you usually did whenever you took an afternoon nap — and that you had gone by without lunch once more. No wonder your head felt like exploding, yet you felt no hungrier than before. To your surprise, he was still by your side. But, this time, instead of relief, you were disappointed.

You left the comfort of his arms and rolled on your back.

“Ugh… Why is it so clear? And who’s playing Schubert?”

As expected, there was no reply from his part. There was no need to. In spite of Rae’s misgivings about the piano, she was quite proficient at it. She put many of the accomplished ladies of the Ton to shame with her skills — after five years living with you and seeing you practice, she became quite fond of the instrument, even though she would not admit it.

Since the two of you disappeared to your chambers before lunch, you imagined she would take it upon herself to keep Lux busy and out of your hair. By now, you thought the poor boy was probably sleeping in the setee, while Rae played to her heart’s content.

You closed your eyes — as if it could relieve the pain and ease the guilt —, but they quickly snapped open when Armitage moved over you, his nose touching yours and his breath caressing your face.

He kissed you.

Slowly.

Sweetly.

A mere brush of lips.

“You worry too much.”

With a gasp, you let him in, stroking your own tongue against his. He let you dominate it — dominate him —, not caring once more that you had slid your hands between his ginger locks. His fingers traveled the extension of your legs lightly, prying them open, so he could slide between them. He did not stop until he reached your hips, applying the slightest of pressures.

The kiss did not last long. He let go of your lips and moved downwards, placing open-mouthed kisses on every inch of exposed skin. Your breath grew heavier as he paid thorough attention to your throat at the same time his hands traveled upwards, in a quest for your breasts.

“We’ll be late for dinner.”

He paid little no regard to what you said. And in spite of what you said, you, too, could not care less about your lateness. Even the melancholic sound of the piano downstairs did not deter you from your quest for the astounding heights of pleasure you could reach together. A moan left you as you tried to move your hips, seeking the much-needed friction. He was so hard, and you were… so ready to take him, you moved your hand from his shoulders and tried to reach his cock… Just to have your wrists trapped. You grunted in disappointment, but he merely lowered his head to your chest and pressed light kisses to the undersides of your breasts. Quite but never touching you were you needed most.

“I won’t beg.”

His lips tilted in the shadow of a knowing smirk.

A gasp escaped you as he placed a small kiss over your nipples. First, on the right breast and then the left. He did not take his time to worship them, however. He kept on lowering his kisses, going past your ribcages, your belly, your navel, till he reached your hipbone.

You pressed your lids together, waiting anxiously for what was to come. For a man who did not enjoy small talk, he surely knew how to put his mouth to better uses than to those of meaningless discourse.

Squirming in his hold, you tried to get your hands free — to fist the sheets, to grab onto his hair —, but he did not allow you to. His lips ghosted over the insides of your thighs — it was so light you could barely feel it. You arched your back, lifting your hips — offering yourself to him. He ran the tip of his tongue over your clit.

“Yes! Gods, yes!”

With a smirk, he drew away. His lips glistening with your wetness. You bit your own bottom lip, frustrated beyond measure.

“You won’t have me begging.”

He ran his lips over your left calf, letting go of your wrists — to which you checked for marks and thanked the old-fashioned use of gloves; the General had a penchant for leaving you marked. With his left hand he held your leg close to his mouth and lazily pumped himself with his right hand.

You inhaled sharply at the sight. It was indeed a feast to the eyes. Armitage knew how to please your every sense — vision, hearing, smell, taste, touch… none was left unattended for too long.

“Touch yourself.”

You bit your bottom lip, unsure. It is not to say that in the five years you were apart, you never sought to pleasure yourself — but to have him watching you was completely different. The intensity in his eyes made you warm all over. Your lids fluttered closed as you reached down, tracing your own thighs, approaching your center very slowly… outlining your lips… testing your wetness… quite but not entering yourself, as you knew he wanted.

“Look at me,” he whispered against your calf; his lips were almost on your knees, kissing the underside of it. “Keep your eyes open. I want to see them when you come.”

His words had you breathing deeply through your nose.

You opened your eyes, looking at his face and then sliding down… to the path of ginger hair leading to his engorged, beautiful shaft… Your mouth watered — you moaned — at the sight of precum oozing from his head.

Under his attentive gaze, you slid one finger inside of you and then a second; the heel of your hand applied a sweet pleasure to your clit. More than once, you thought about closing your eyes — the intensity in his blue orbs too much for you —, but as you lost yourself to the growing pleasure, you realized you could not shift your attention from how he stroked his shaft, timing it to the rhythm of the music. The feel of his lips, inching closer and closer to your center forced you to keep your eyes wide open and focused on him.

As the piece of music reached a crescendo — and you could swear you would never be able to play or listen to Schubert without reliving this very afternoon —, so did his movements — and yours too. Your breath grew heavier, beads of sweat pooled in the valley of your breasts, sliding down your skin. You were close and he knew it.

Armitage lowered himself on the bed and placed one of your legs over his shoulders; your hands were put aside. His heavenly mouth ghosted over your clit, his warm breath making you clench around nothing. This time, the thought of not begging flew off your mind as you uttered a broken please.

With a smug smirk, he took your clit between his lips, sliding two of his fingers inside you. Losing no time, he looked for that sweet spot that would have you singing for him as he worked you towards an earth-shattering orgasm.

As it hit you — just a marvelous, indescribable feeling that had you arching your back off the bed and your eyes filling with unshed tears —, you sought his hair — to keep him in place or to pull him apart; you were so sensitive you thought you could not take any more stimulation —, instead, you felt the fingers of his left hand entwining with yours as he continued to lap at you; allowing you to ride your orgasm fully.

The piece came to a diminuendo and so did the movement of his fingers and his tongue against you, until they completely stopped. A deep, contented sigh left you as you looked at him through half lidded eyes. Your legs were trembling; you were so weak you thought that if not for being laid over the mattress you would fall on your knees — exactly like last time when he ate you out against the door of his study. The mere remembrance made your face hot.

With the final notes, he entered you without warning.

Both of you gasped.

He took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth — letting you taste yourself. Part of you expected him to give you a moment to adjust to his size or at least to recuperate from the last orgasm. Instead, he set a punishing rhythm against your hips.

It did not hurt — and even if it did, you learned how to find pleasure in a bit of pain — but you were so sensible, the second wave of pleasure found you without voice. Your nails punctured his flesh as he sought his own release.

He was so worked up, it did not take him long to abandon the timed strokes. His mouth was against your throat, and broken moans and grunts escaped through his opened lips. You brought his hand to your breasts and he kneaded the pearls between his fingers, with his right hand he stroked your clit in a circular movement, to the point you were sobbing.

As your second orgasm came to an end, his own started. He pressed a kiss to your breasts, and you pulled onto his hair till a grimace of pain took over his features — exactly like he enjoyed. He grunted your name; his eyes fell closed as his hips jerked forward one last time.

It felt like ages had gone by as he emptied himself inside you. His lips worshipped the column of your throat and his hand travelled over your thighs in a slow, sensual caress as you both tried to recover.

His breath became normal before yours. He kept on placing small open-mouthed kisses to your glistening skin, whispering words you could not understand — or care less. Your eyes were heavy, and you were so tired all you wanted was to doze off at least a bit. He softened still inside of you, but you were so comfortable in such position, you did not want him to move an inch.

He did not.

“You should get ready.” He captured your lips lightly. You sighed happily. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

“Thank you, my love,” you whispered against his mouth. You pressed a light kiss to his lips, but he did not kiss you back. Your words had him drawing apart — it was impossible not to be aware that it was all because you addressed him in a novelettish manner.

Armitage slid out of you and sat on his side of the bed.

You bit your bottom lip.

He stared ahead. His mind, however, was distant. You closed your eyes, running your hands over your face, as if it would just erase what you just said; you heavily regretted your form of endearment.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

His impossibly blue eyes snapped back to you. He breathed deeply through his nose.

“Think not of it. My mind is just busy.”

His words — so detached — coupled with his facial expression — so perfectly schooled —, made you flinch. You bit your bottom lip, realizing what you did not want to acknowledge before: whenever the two of you made love, his heart was not into it. He enjoyed the physical act to its fullest — he ensured you did too —, but like he said… his mind — and heart — was elsewhere.

You chewed the inside of your cheek and sat on the bed, wrapping the sheets wrapped around your body. You seized the moment to introduce a topic you were dying to discuss with him a while ago.

“We should sell the estate in Southampton.”

His answer came quicker than you expected; his voice firm — not loud or authoritative, “Absolutely not.”

Coupled with how still his body went, you quickly understood he did not want to talk further about the topic. It did not mean you would concede defeat so easily, though.

“Please.”

You sought his fingers. He caught your wrist, running his thumb over your palm. He brought it to his lips, bestowing upon your knuckles a small kiss.

Biting your bottom lip, you focused your attention on his face. The slight tilt of his lips indicated he knew what he was doing to you and what exactly were your thoughts concerning it.

You snatched your hand away, focusing on the present issue. You spent a great deal of the afternoon being distracted — fooled — by him. You dismissed it before, letting him have his way with you, but now, you could not avoid the politics and the sensitive topics concerning his imminent bankruptcy.

“Hear me out.”

“My answer is final, Lady Hux.”

The fact that he did not call you by your name indicated he really did not — and would not — want to discuss such topic any further. Your shoulders slumped, but you did not concede defeat. Not so quickly.

“That’s my house and therefore my decision to make.”

He pursed his lips into a thin line. It was obvious he was getting tired of it. Getting tired of your insistence — it was clear he was not in the least inclined to share a few things with you. His business was one of them.

And honestly, he was not wrong. Actually, he was — but not legally speaking. According to British law, you were his property to do as he pleased and talking or not about business as his decision to make. Selling your house was his decision to make — not yours.

How you hated being a woman most of times!

“Armitage.”

“(Y/N)”.

You rolled your eyes. He was going to make this hard for you — he could be very difficult when he wanted to. Displeased, you watched as he rose from the bed and slipped inside his robe. Shoulders down, your mind raced with possible arguments as you waited for him to go fetch his cigar and a glass of brandy.

It was needless to ask for him to pour some for yourself. As you were trying to conceive, anything alcoholic was out of the picture. And yet, you could feel your mouth watering at the mere thought of the amber liquid running down your throat.

After a few minutes went by, it became strikingly obvious he chose not to return to the bedroom. You slipped inside your robe, already sure he would admonish you for leaving the bed — the family’s physician had recommended for you to lie down after the two of you engaged in sexual relations; according to him, it would increase the chances of fertilization. Rae had rolled her eyes at the suggestion, but you were not one to disobey doctor’s orders that easily when there was so much at stake.

However…

This was an entirely different situation.

You were no expert when it came to finances, but after managing your father’s estate for five years, it was crystal clear the situation at the brewery was quite complicated — and it was you putting it mildly. He needed money — a large sum of it — and although a pregnancy and an heir would solve the problem easier than making a deal with Lady Carise, you were not so naïve as to think you would get pregnant that quick.

For that, you would have to count on luck and that was not something either could afford right now. That’s why you should convince him to sell your summer manor. That was the fastest way to solve the money problem without recurring to Lady Carise and her… less than adequate intentions towards your husband.

The mere thought of the woman made your entire body shudder.

You did not trust the her. You never did. Not even when she was to marry your father and become your stepmother. Something about her smelled fishy. And, God, it was in no way jealousy.

There was just something about her… that simply did not sit well with you.

And when your guts told you to stay away from something or someone... You would rather pay attention to it.

You dismissed such thoughts as you tightened the knot at your waist and ran your fingers through your messed hair — in case you met a servant in your way. Nevertheless, there was no need to go that far, for he was in the anteroom. Back turned to you, he exhaled the smoke, before bringing the cigar back to his lips.

Carefully, you approached him, encircling your arms around his waist. He stilled in your embrace but did not move away from you. With a relieved sigh, you tightened your hold and leaned your forehead against his back.

For a moment, all you could hear was the cadenced beating of his heart. It was calm and so very comforting. He placed his cigar in the cinder-box and entwined his hand with yours. It did not take him long to turn around in your embrace and face you.

“We’re not selling the Southampton manor, (Y/N).”

You could have asked why, but you were too tired for that. Suddenly, all you wanted as to get some sleep and forget that disastrous afternoon — dinner be damned. Aside the fact he could tell you he had a monetary problem — more likely he did not have a choice to begin with — it was obvious he did not want you having a part in solving it.

“I refuse to be the kind of husband that relies on his wife’s heritage to solve his problems.”

You snorted, ready to pretend you did not hear that. Or ready to ask him how it could be so different to borrow Lady Carise’s money, but not yours. After five years living only with Rae Sloane — a remarkably independent woman — and Lux — and a few servants, of course, but they would not meddle in how you decided to run the house or your life — it was easy to forget how men behaved and how societal expectations weighed heavily on their shoulders. Truth is, Rae taught how much free a woman can be making her own decisions and you were not ready to give up on that.

Instead, you settled on, “I don’t want that heritage. It has brought me nothing but pain.” You realized your mistake as soon as he broke away from you, but now… Now you could not back down. You looked at him, at his impossibly blue eyes as you continued, “The happiest moments I have in that house are related to Lux.” And Rae, of course. But that was a given. Honestly, even if there were happier memories from the house, it was not something you could so selfishly hold onto in times of need. And this very situation configured as such, in your opinion. You just had to make Hux see that.

He nodded…

…and you breathed slowly…

…relieved…

He was finally seeing things your way.

“The manor in Southampton is not to be sold. That’s final.”

Oh, dear God!

With that, he brought the cigar back to his lips, his eyes focused on the quickly darkening sky outside. “Now, go get ready. I’ll wait you downstairs.”

Seething with anger, you bit your bottom lip, but decided not to give him the answer you desperately wanted. He was right, you should get ready. You should leave his presence and stay alone for a while, least you wanted to end up killing him.

“Like this, Mama?”

You pressed a small kiss to Lux’s forehead and nodded. You were a bit distracted, but more focused on him than that morning.

“Yes, exactly like this, Little Lord.” A small smile blossomed on your lips as you ran your fingers through his ginger hair. He was very enthusiastic about you having dinner with him and later keeping him company as he played the piano. You dismissed his tutoress, giving her an earlier respite.

Part of you — the childish part — was dying to know how Hux reacted to your absence. Even though the Lady of the House could indulge in the luxury of having breakfast in her chambers, dinner was an entirely different story. And part of you — the part that was trying to behave like the grown woman you were — just wanted some peace and the opportunity to sort your thoughts.

Spending some time with Lux gave you exactly what you were looking for. Not to mention, you felt bad for neglecting him during a great deal of the last few days.

“Promise me that if you ever get married, you will listen to your partner.”

He stopped playing and removed his chubby hands from the keys. He looked at you with a confused face, as if he had no idea what you were talking about — and how could he? Lux was just four — sometimes it was easy to forget.

“Never mind.” You placed both of his hands back on the keys and instructed, “Keep going, you’re doing great!”

Lux beamed up at your words — a genuine smile curving his lips and highlighting his dimples. You felt tempted to pinch his cheeks, but you knew he would get mad at you. And he was doing so well, you did not want to distract him right now.

“Rae is no fun,” he commented when he got bored of the melody you were teaching him.

You smiled once more.

Yes.

He was right.

Rae is no fun.

“Adults are no fun,” you commented, placing both hands on the piano and inventing another melody just so he could copy you and thus you could extend your time together — even though it was way past his bedtime.

“No! You are fun, Mama!” His vehemence made you laugh a little.

“Lord Hux would probably say I’m no adult at all.”

And with your recent behavior, you could say he was right. And as soon as he knew what you did, he would be even sure of it. You bit your bottom lip, expecting him to chew you alive next day when he read the newspaper tomorrow morning.

No.

You did the right thing.

If he was not willing to see things your way, you just had to force him to. You had done it before, and it worked. There was no way it would not work now.

“You should not speak for myself.”

Both you and Lux looked up to see the figure of your husband leaning against the threshold. He unfolded his arms and approached you in a few, firm strides.

“Lord Hux!” Lux exclaimed, shifting on his seat. He moved closer to you, giving space for Armitage to sit beside him.

“Lord Hux,” you acknowledged his presence with pursed lips. Not keen on talking to him in front of a small child — you still resented him for his behavior earlier —, you moved your fingers over the keys.

He seemed to think of it as an offer, for he, too, accompanied you in the music. After years of watching him playing his violin, you almost forgot how proficient he was at playing the piano.

Biting your bottom lip, you removed your fingers from the keys and rose to your feet. Still playing, Armitage looked at you with could almost pass as a surprised expression. You knew better.

“Let’s go, Lux,” you said, outstretching your hand. “It’s way past your bedtime.”

“But Mama—

“Lux!” You did not let him finish his plea. At some point, you knew you would give in. “Come.”

“But I don’t wanna go,” he pleaded again, his intense chestnut eyes shining with unshed tears. He looked at Armitage, trying to get him on his side.

You sighed.

“Leave him be,” Hux said in an even tone, even if firmly. “I’ll get him to bed later.”

“No.”

If he was not willing to share things with you, you would not share your authority over Lux. Besides your unwillingness to do as your husband said, it was very late, and Lux was tired. If he was irritated at the mere possibility of going to bed, it was because it was way past his time to sleep.

Rubbing his eyes, Lux climbed down the seat and walked to you, not taking your hand, but not completely dismissing it either. As soon as you opened the door, you spotted the governess walking down the corridor.

She stopped as she saw you and subconsciously adjusted her clothes. If you were not so mad at Hux, you would probably have smiled at her gesture.

“May I help you, Your Ladyship?”

You shook your head, but your husband was behind you, a hand on your shoulder as he forced you to step back to his arms. His hand over yours prevented you from breaking apart.

“Take Lux to his room.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she replied, offering Lux a hand. The boy quickly took it, casting a final glance at both of you. “Come, Lord Lux.”

As the two of them disappeared in the dim lighted corridor, you stepped away from Hux’s embrace.

“If you kindly excuse me.”

Before you could even leave the room, he had closed the door and pressed you against it. You inhaled sharply but refused to look at him over your shoulder.

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

His imperative tone made you snap. You shifted in his embrace and raised your chin, “Why should I talk to you when you don’t show the same consideration to me?”

He did not reply, not immediately. With the back of his hand, he traced your jawline and with his thumb he traced your bottom lip.

“I hate you.”

“I thought we were past that,” he replied lowering his face to yours. As soon as you felt his breath so close to your mouth, you turned your face away from him, letting his lips brush your cheeks.

“We have never been past that.” You moved from under his arms and put some distance between the two of you. He was ready to follow you when you said, “Don’t touch me without my permission.”

He stopped immediately, his hands falling to his sides.

You looked away, your eyes full of unshed tears.

“I thought we were on talking terms now, but it seems I was mistaken.” You drew in a sharp breath. Pressing your fingers firmly against the fabric of your dress, you raised your chin again, “A word of advice, Lord Hux, if you want to convince the King to appoint you as Prime Minister—

His snort made you stop momentarily. However, there were a few things to be said, and be damned his unwillingness to hear them.

“If you want to be Prime Minister,” you repeated; your eyes narrowed at him. “You should start talking to your wife. Your opponents will constantly do their best to put us against each other and I can’t simply take your side every time if I don’t know what’s going on through your head.”

He approached in purposeful strides. He forced you to release the fabric of your dress and placed both of your hands on his shoulders.

“They will undoubtedly do that,” he said, running his thumb over your cheeks. “And for your and Lux’s sake, you should be ready to turn on me if the time comes.”

You furrowed your brows.

What was he talking about?

“A word of advice, Lady Hux.” He mimicked you, running his thumb over your bottom lip to prevent you from biting it. “Perhaps you should watch whom you make alliances with. Perhaps siding with His Highness won’t bring the expected results.”

Your eyed widened.

“It’s treason.”

He broke apart.

“It’s only treason if I get caught.”

You followed him, your mouth agape. That was a dangerous game — this one he was playing. When you reached him, you put your hand on his face, forcing him to look at you.

“Armitage, hear me out, if you get caught—” You shook your head and lowered your voice. “No. When you get caught, you’ll be hanged.”

He kissed the inside of your hand.

“That’s why you’ll have to make them believe you knew nothing.”

You shook your head.

He was not listening to you.

He was not fucking listening to you.

“There was no meeting this morning with the board, right? You met with the Prince.”

He shrugged.

“The Kings is dying.”

“He isn’t dead yet,” you retorted. “Your personal interests should not interfere with those of the Crown. Listen, I know you want to become Prime Minister, but betraying your King will nev—

He snorted.

…and pulled your head back by your hair, exposing your throat to his lips.

“You don’t fool me, Lady Hux.” He brought his lips to yours. “You pretend your loyalty lies with the King, but I know you want this as much as I do.”

“Yes.” You replied breathless. “I want it, but I am being reasonable here while you are not. You’re loyal to no one, but yourself!”

Placing both hands on his shoulders, you tried to force him to break apart. His hand wrapped around your neck, applying the slightest of pressures to your windpipe.

“Yes… You’re right. I’m loyal only to myself.” He kissed the corner of your lips. “But what about you, Lady Hux? Where your loyalty lies?”

“With—

“Think carefully about your answer.” Your answer had his fingers tightening around your throat — not to the point of hurting you.

You wetted your lips.

“With the Crown, obviously.”

“Why?”

He pried his fingers open a little bit, allowing you to draw in a breath and reply — you were not so sure he would not like to hear it, “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

You bit your bottom lip, relieved that he seemed pleased with your answer. You thought about going on differently about it, but you knew he was talking hypothetically — just in case he was caught in his own game, something he did not plan on happening.

“Exactly, Lady Hux.” He kissed your throat softly. Next, his lips were upon yours in a brief — so very sweet — kiss. After it was over, he pressed his forehead to yours.

“You shouldn’t have to ask it. You know my loyalty lies with you. Because I lo—” You closed your eyes and drew in a breath. It was time you were honest, not only with him, but with yourself. “Because without you I can’t get what I want.”

“And what do you want, Lady Hux?”

Looking into his eyes, you replied, “Power.”

You loved Hux — you really did —, but you also loved the many possibilities a relationship with him represented. Knowing that he coveted — and could possibly be chosen — the position of Prime Minister opened a lot of those possibilities for you. You knew that without him, you would never reach a position of power — at least, not one like this.

“I want power.”

This time, his lips fell upon yours passionately. His hands slithered to your waist as he brought your body closer to his. You gasped, giving him the chance to slide his tongue over yours and deepen the kiss. He walked you back, till you met with the piano bench. He made you sit down, kneeling before you.

Biting your bottom lip, you drew in a sharp breath. He kissed your throat, his hand slithering under your dress to caress your thighs. You watched in awe as he removed your shoes and then your stockings. You knew that as soon as he touched your undergarments, he would find them dripping wet.

“Tell me what you want, Lady Hux.”

You allowed him to remove the offending article of clothing that kept his glorious fingers from you. Arching your back, you offered more of yourself to him.

“You. I want you.”

He removed his lips from your throat and shook his head. His fingers — oh, so close — stopped their caress over your sensible, burning skin.

That was not the answer he wanted to hear.

You drew in a breath…

…and wetted your lips.

“I want power.”

It was all it took to have his fingers caressing you in the way he knew you needed it and to have his lips falling upon yours in an overpowering kiss.

“And you shall have it. Power suits you.”

A/N - And that’s all for today. I’m still working on my stories. I hope you forgive me for taking so much time between updates.

#in the general's bed #in the generals bed #itgb #hux x reader #hux x you #armitage hux #general hux #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #general hux x you #general hux x reader #star wars regency story #regency story #sequels #fanfic #fanfiction

31 notes · View notes

theparanormalperiodical · 5 years ago

Text

19 Spooky Things That Happened In 2019 - And The Links To Watch Them Happen!

365 days.

That’s as long as it takes to change the world.

This year, we saw Greta Thunberg take on world leaders, we bore witness to the Time’s Up movement flex its muscles, and we hit share on the first picture of a black hole. Oh, and your favourite blog was started!

And so, as 2019 draws to a close, chances are your Twitter feeds, your TV shows and your conversations will be crammed full of everyone’s own personal take on the year. On top of that, the final few days of the year will also be chock full of existential crises based on every resolution you failed to meet in the last 12 months.

(Until next year, driving licence...)

But regardless of the politics, and aside from those promises you swore to keep all-year-round, there are some events that simply go ignored. Like the spooky ones.

The ones about haunted baby monitors.

The ones about prophecies claiming this pope will cause the end of the world.

And the ones about the Loch Ness Monster’s Chinese cousin.

I wanted to change that. So, today’s article is going to take you through the 19 spookiest thangs that gon’ don’ went down in 2019.

For the last time this year: let’s get spooky!

#1 - A Nanny Cam Picks Up Paranormal Activity In Michigan (March)

It might sound like it’s fresh from the screenplay of some forgotten Paranormal Activity movie, but this tale has the evidence most ghost stories are scraping the bottom of the barrel for:

It may have seemed like a typical night for this Michigan-based family, but the usual practice checking on their child via the baby monitor took a turn for the terrifying.

The footage clearly shows a strange, transparent figure move in front of the crib, and the child watch it. But then, the baby cries, something that has been deduced to a sharp scratch found on its arm shortly after the incident.

An affliction from someone beyond the grave, perhaps?

Apparently so: the parents traced the history of their home back to a former tenant who committed suicide in the apartment.

Here’s the footage:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E7cNDGk_loQ

#2 - Lorraine Warren - The Inspiration Behind The Conjuring Universe - Dies (April)

This year we lost a paranormal icon.

Lorraine Warren was one half of the ghost-hunting dream-team that investigated some of America’s - and even some of the UK’s - most haunted places and people.

The inspiration behind the ever-sprawling Conjuring universe, Lorraine was possibly the most famous and established medium in the world, using her gift to communicate with spirits entangled in cases such as the Amityville haunting, the Perron family farmhouse, and the Devil Made Me Do It court case.

Whether it's the silver screen bringing their stories to the fore, or their haunted museum, there’s no doubt that she was pretty damn awesome.

#3 - A New Haunting Is Sighted (And Filmed) At Myrtle’s Plantation (April)

Myrtle’s Plantation may already be haunted by the dark history of slavery in the USA, but it is also famed for its less metaphorical paranormal activity: haunted mirrors, the screams of dying Civil War soldiers, and a young girl sporting a green turban are just a few of the things to see and hear at this Louisiana tourist spot.

Yet despite being opened in 1796, only this year was a new haunting witnessed.

And filmed.

https://video.dailymail.co.uk/preview/mol/2019/04/25/6516021902273592342/636x382_MP4_6516021902273592342.mp4

The story goes that a young couple were enjoying a romantic visit to the BnB - well, I say romantic, it’s a former plantation - and saw 3 pairs of small, ghostly feet scurry across the floor. When they reported this claim to the staff, it connected yet another dot regarding the paranormal portrait of the area.

It turns out that the ghosts of children are often reported by visitors and staff alike, whether it’s floral fragrances passing through the air, or being poked and touched by invisible hands. This aligns closely with claims that numerous children have died on the plantation as a result of Yellow Fever.

#4 - Zak Bagans’ Haunted Museum Is Temporarily Closed Due To Extreme Paranormal Activity (June)

When you gather enough haunted items together in one building, you expect some spooky-ass shit to go down, right? Well, that’s exactly what happened in June.

Zak Bagans - the mastermind behind hit TV show, Ghost Adventures - has his very own museum dedicated to the supernatural in Las Vegas, and had to shut down an exhibit citing danger to the staff.

Housed in this exhibit was ‘the Devil’s Wheelchair’, supposedly the chair David Glatzel sat in when exorcised as a part of the Devil Made Me Do It court case.

Concerns were first raised when a plug near the chair was yanked out of the wall by an invisible force, and a nearby door swung open in a similar fashion. Following this simple activity was an intensified level of activity which began to threaten the tour guides explaining the exhibit to visitors.

No less than 5 tour guides broke down crying for seemingly no reason whilst near the exhibit, and one even collapsed.

#5 - A Ghost Is Seen In The Love Island Villa (July)

This summertime TV hit might make the headlines for all the wrong reasons, but this story seemed to slip under the radar.

Joanna Chimonides, a rather controversial contestant from this year, claimed a blonde ghost visiting the sleeping contestants and bending over their beds was a common feature of their evenings.

It is what it is. (It’s a reference to the show, ok, I’m down with the kidz.)

#6 - Yet Another Sighting Of The Loch Ness Monster Is Reported (July)

The summer wasn’t just full of young men and women swanning ‘round Majorca “looking for love” - it was also chock full of sightings of Nessie.

Thanks to the warm, calm weather gracing Scotland in July, there was a spike in claims of seeing the beast as anything breaking the surface of the Loch was far easier to see. In fact, by the end of the month we’d had the 12th sighting of the year!

#7 - A Bar’s CCTV Catches A Ghost Doing, Uh, Ghost Things (July)

This year, the Idaho based brewery, Milner’s Gate, shot to viral fame having caught paranormal activity on its CCTV. The staff witnessed strange goings on in the dead of the night via their security footage, and uploaded it to YouTube to show what really happens after dark.

You can clearly see several barstools being pulled out from underneath a bar by an invisible force.

But someone could’ve been hiding underneath the bar, surely? Unfortunately, there was no space for them to hide.

Debate might still rage in the comments section of this YouTube video, but it is an interesting watch - whether you believe, or not.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LKXT7Vz9T6k

#8 - Hobo Hill House Gets Put On Airbnb (August)

Boutique hotels, country cottages, and cosy nooks in picturesque places tend to dominate the listings on AirBnB (AND drive up the prices). But taking in a coastal view isn’t the only option anymore: Hobo Hill House, a 109 year old house tucked away in Jefferson, bears the label ‘haunted’ instead.

Bought in 2017 by its current owners, this house supposedly features a variety of ghosts, and the resulting paranormal activity has amounted to the possession of the 8 year old daughter and their beloved family dog acting cray-cray. Within 7 months they’d got the hell outta there.

Most visitors cannot last the night.

#9 - Another Nanny Cam Sees Another Ghost (August)

It’s been a busy year for ghosts haunting and harassing small infants: in LA, a Nanny Cam app picked up movement of something unseen to the human eye. This brand used coloured splotches to indicate movement, and going by the human-shaped splotches by the crib, this suggested something - or someone - was shifting around the room.

However, the company behind the baby monitor cited poor setup and situation of the camera as the cause of this not-so-supernatural activity.

On top of that, anxious parenting of newborn babies is evidently a common cause of such claims. The debunking of this haunting continues…

#10 - Owlman Is Spotted Once Again - And Caught On Camera (August)

The Owlman of Mawnan Smith might sound like a crappy read you’d pull off a charity shop shelf, but it's actually a legend dating back to the 1920s. The original tale follows 2 teenage girls who saw a half-man, half-owl creature sitting on top of a church tower. The same year, another pair of teens saw the exact same thing.

But it was in the heat of this summer that Owlman struck once again. In August, a paranormal investigator captured footage - and a single photo - of what he claims is the Owlman. Yet beyond the classic blurry picture of something allegedly paranormal is the added experience of snapping the shot:

His team felt this surge of energy, and immediately sensed that this, uh, thing, was demonic. The camera then broke, and scratches soon appeared all over their bodies.

#11 - The Best Footage Of Bigfoot To Date Is Captured (August)

Yes, yes, I know.

Every other day someone is claiming to have witnessed and filmed the greatest evidence of the greatest monster and mystery this planet faces and omg guys drop everything and sub to my youtube channel look its not me in a gorilla suit i swear…

But this year, groundbreaking footage did indeed capture some crazy shizz.

Well, on reflection, ‘groundbreaking’ seems far-fetched for something that smells like yet another hoax. So, what do you think?

https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/9750471/best-bigfoot-sighting-video-woods/

#12 - Pool Parc Asylum Is Closed Off To The Public (September)

North Wales is home to many things: gorgeous views, even more gorgeous accents, and a haunted mental asylum.

(These are a few of my favourite thingggggss.)

Naturally, its a magnet to UK-based paranormal investigators who are in search for the next viral video. However, in the Autumn, the owner of the 200 year old manor discouraged visitors from touring the historic building, citing danger from the building’s structural integrity, and the increasingly violent paranormal activity that goes on inside.

Investigators typically witness strong activity, claiming stones behind thrown and bruises to the face are common occurrences for those looking to catch a glimpse of the supernatural.

#13 - The Chinese Loch Ness Monster Is Spotted For The First Time (September)

Is there room for 2 lake-based monsters on this list? Well, there’s gonna have to be.

This year a long, black creature was filmed swimming in the Yangtze, producing a viral video that all investigators of the mysterious seek.

Was it simply a piece of material floating in the water? Was it merely an over-sized sea snake that was subjected to pollution?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c4xRokjH2tkn

Yet despite the debunking, this is not the first time a creature of similar stature has been seen in China. In 1987, a similar monster was seen in the Kanas lake, and 30 years later, a creature even raised its head out of the water, sparking yet another viral video.

#14 - The Haunting Of The Harper Family (October)

October - obviously the spookiest month of the year - had a spooky start with the Harpers, a family who finally uncovered the truth behind the paranormal activity they experienced in their house.

Their North Wales home has witnessed it all - and I mean it all. Banging noises echoing through the walls, the smell of rotten flesh wafting through the rooms, and items going missing are just a few of the most common occurrences the family have been subjected to.

But on top of that, the mother of the family even watched a small army in clothing and armour from a few odd centuries ago march past the house. This was the hint they needed to trace back their house to Flint Castle, a nearby historic tourist destination.

It is believed that their house is situated on the location of battles gone-by.

This was confirmed in October as footage picked up a large glowing orb floating through their living room. And if you look closely, you can even see a face in the orb.

https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/weird-news/family-home-stinks-rotten-flesh-20763536

#15 - Major British Political Moments Happen On The Spookiest Days Of The Year (October, December)

Friday the 13th? Check.

The 31st October? Hell yeah.

It doesn’t get much spookier than that. Throw in some politics, stir 3 times clockwise, and say the magic words:

“Get Brexit done!”

Oh, just fuck off.

#16 - Paranormal Activity 7 Is Announced (November)

If you thought we’d seen enough of Katie and Kristi’s fucked-up childhood, then you were wrong! This year, yet another film was announced for release in 2021 cause why not drag out possibly the weakest series of film the horror genre has ever had to choke down.

As you can see I’m not pissed off, or confused by this decision at all.

Nope.

#17 - Elon Musk’s Spacex Satellite Livestream Captures Footage Of A UFO (December)

Livestreams of outer space are littered with claims of activity that go beyond the realms of our understanding. And it’s for this reason that aliens and UFOs make the headlines everyday based off this footage alone.

But it was this footage captured up in mid-December that was picked up by media across the world.

The livestream showed a white or silver disc-like object stream past a Falcon 9 rocket in a curved trajectory.

“Ah, yes, an upside down bowl flying through the sky - this isn’t news!”

Well, it kinda is, actually. It’s the curved bit that really got people talking; only an intelligently controlled being could make such a movement, sparking the speculations the supernatural revels in.

https://www.express.co.uk/a7b91874-827b-495d-b3cd-db25fe7f2976

#18 - Another UFO Is Spotted Above Las Vegas (December)

Only a few days before Christmas, a white orb was seen passing over Las Vegas, travelling at approximately 1000 miles per hour, and emitting blue and white lights. Not a sound was produced as it flew overhead.

This suspiciously silent craft is yet another sighting witnessed in Nevada, a hotspot for sightings of the supernatural and alien-kind. It is believed to be as a result of the proximity to Area 51.

https://www.express.co.uk/news/weird/1221270/UFO-news-aliens-Christmas-sighting-update-latest-las-vegas-Nevada

“Okay, so it’s yet another UFO sighting… But what’s so special about this one in particular?”

This footage was captured just after the release of official footage taken by the American Navy which shows a glowing UFO. The film shows the pilots stating that there were multiple UFOs there, rousing suspicion among those obsessed with conspiracy theories.

#19 - A Prophecy Claims The World Will End With This Pope (December)

We finish our round-up of the spookiest goings-on of this year with a prophecy dating back nearly 1000 years. Okay, yes, the Mayans seemingly predicted the world would end, like, every year, but this one bears some rather uncomfortable coincidences that can only confirm its potential reality.

And it all starts with this bloke called Archbishop Saint Malachy.

900 years ago, he travelled to Rome from Ireland to give an account of his affairs when he had a vision. He saw the 112 names of the future popes.

His prediction for the 111th - the former pope - was known as “Gloria Olivae”. The 111th pope is Pope Benedict XVI, and this fulfils the prophecy as the Order of Saint Benedict is the “glory of the olives”.

So, there’s a chance his predictions could be correct, right?

"In the final persecution of the Holy Roman Church there will reign Peter the Roman, who will feed his flock amid many tribulations, after which the seven-hilled city will be destroyed and the dreadful Judge will judge the people. The End.”

Our current pope’s father is called ‘Peter’, and despite moving to Argentina, he was born in Italy.

This is a problem because it is firmly believed that this pope will resign in 2020. So, as our final pope, this means the world might end in 2020.

Great.

So - What’s Your Verdict?

Which event do you think deserves the top spot of totally-terrifying-thing-o’-2019?

And do you really think the world’s gonna end in 2020?

Fancy hearing about more spooky shizz in the new year? Then you best be hitting follow.

2 notes · View notes