#i did move into one of the coldest cities here BUT BECAUSE THE RENT WAS CHEAP

[eightspringdays]

The central heating system working overtime today with -10°C outside. This is the beginning of me freezing my ass off in this popcicle cosplay of a country

[echoequinox]

my life story

at 18 i moved in with my girlfriend into a one bed apartment. i was going to college in the city until i messed that up and stopped going to school.

i pushed carts for a while. i tried to be good but sometimes i talked to people. i found out there was a name i liked better.

christmas eve i left, drove an hour and a half to some other girl's house, one who called me a name that felt good. one that said i was a good girl. i didnt go back to my girlfriend's apartment again.

i moved in with a friend from high school. he didnt get it but he loved me as a best friend. that was enough. a girl i used to date was at college in iowa or something, dating some guy from the military. it all made her want to die. i told her to leave. she did.

we lived in that spare bedroom with my rabbit for a while, and then into her mom's house. not for terribly long, only long enough for her to pick up drinking, finding a guy at the bar that she barely liked and wouldnt stay with but at least he "made her feel something". she misgendered me anyway.

so then i went home. to my mom and her abusive boyfriend. i was out a lot, with friends, running around, not wanting to be home.

i met a boy who worked at a taco shop. he'd work at a starbucks later, and when we lived in the halfway house he was in because he was kicked out by his parents for being trans, he'd bring me tea from work. my introduction into the wonderful world of tea.

that was the happiest i was for a while. sleeping at his place, playing games, fucking when he got home and drinking tea. we went to restaurants and pride rallies where i met my other boyfriend.

the three of us moved into a new place together where i lived in the basement. i got alcohol poisoning there after drinking 20 shots of whiskey in a row on an empty stomach. i was miserable then, too, i think. at least they both took care of me.

first boy got another bf. he told me once when he got me drunk to have sex with me (which failed, got me too drunk) that he had to find someone else because id stopped fucking him enough. that was what i was there for.

me and the second boyfriend left. we went back to my mother's. the second time i had returned. we were actively getting kicked out when he proposed to me. i said yes. we went to live in an abandoned motel that had electricity but no heat in the middle of one of the coldest missouri winters.

a girl id reconnected with offered me a place with her and her husband. told me my bf at the time was using me for comfort and affection, didnt actually like me. that made sense. i left.

alabama. it was better there. the housewife's live in girlfriend to a wealthy programmer. he was very sweet and kind and cute. she was very familiar with what she wanted.

it was a few years and a few houses in alabama, getting on new medications and starting to put out applications when she told me i couldn't stay there anymore. the third home i was forced out of.

a friend in florida had a job opportunity for me. i lived with their parents because id fallen in love with them. it was never reciprocated, not in the way i wanted. but we did become quickly codependent in ways that relationships usually never got to.

we moved out and into an apartment. we bought a cat. we decorated our home together. we made meals. the pandemic hit. non-essential workers meant stipends. we made art. we learned new skills. we started working out.

the pandemic ended and i got fired. no job, no income, i was once again a burden. i couldnt do the one thing required of me - previously sex, here rent - and so i was nothing. what we had ended in a matter of weeks. love crumbled to ash in my hands and I was cruelly reminded that unless you serve a purpose to others, you dont deserve to exist.

i got into school, got some loans, and lived off campus in florida. the dream school, the one id wanted since high school. THE programmer school!! THE place that would teach me to make games!!! finally!!!!!

it fell through. classes became harder and harder to attend, and the few i did i felt ostracized and discarded. i remembered why I hated being around people.

it ended too. not the school, thank god for covid for forcing online schooling to become the norm. one thanksgiving, visiting friends, i had them help cosign on a car. i would drive back to florida and doordash to keep myself afloat.

the car broke. stranded in illinois. i had to find somewhere to go. a friend helped me for a time, and then finally when my mom and her horrible husband separated, she let me back in. the third return.

we had to drive to florida to get my stuff, a 20 hour drive both ways while we both had covid, but i survived. everything i owned fit in the back of an suv. anything that didnt got thrown away.

and now im here. back in the house i grew up in. in a house ive come to hate. i hate it here. this is where i live, but it isnt home. i desperately want to go home, but i dont have one.

[archangelsquill]

to hell and back || damien darkblood x reader 

pairing: damien darkblood x partner reader (gn, no y/n)

fandom: invincible

word count: 1448

summary: after omni-man flees earth and things begin to settle down, cecil feels he owes you -- the demon detective’s partner in solving crime -- a favor.

warnings: none

a/n: a sequel to this. darkblood deserves better, and by the gods, i’m giving it to him! enjoy, my fellow simps.

———

“If anything happens to them, on your head it will be, Cecil!”

Those were the final words of the demon as the pits of hell called him home, and as Cecil met his gaze, he knew it was no threat. It was a promise, and though he considered himself a bastard, Cecil saw no need to keep you in danger. He knew without Darkblood around, you were a target for Nolan. He’d already had security detail on you, but against Omni-Man, he knew it was useless. If he ever decided he wanted you dead, there’d be nothing stopping him.

Then, if Cecil was lucky (or maybe unlucky) to stay out of the warpath, he’d have Darkblood breathing down his neck, even with such distance between this world and his.

Sending him back to Hell wasn’t something Cecil wanted to do. It was a necessity. He owed him big time for that, and he’d start with keeping you off Nolan’s radar.

The official report was that you’d gone to stay with an imaginary Aunt Sue, somewhere in the Dakotas, but the reality was you were to be kept in the Global Defense Agency Headquarters -- well hidden, out of sight, and away from Nolan Grayson.

No one told you a thing. You’d been in your apartment, waiting for Damien to show up with those coffees he’d promised. Evidence, photos, and papers of theories and notes were scattered around the small space, occupying every inch of surface area, as you paced, a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach growing stronger and stronger the longer your demon detective was away. Something was wrong, and as Cecil Stedman appeared suddenly before you, making you jump out of your skin, you knew for sure. 

“You’re the demon’s partner, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me. I guess you’re Cecil.”

“You guess right. You need to come with us.”

“Why?”

“You’re not safe anymore.”

“What?”

“I can’t answer your questions now. Pack a bag. You won’t be coming back for a while.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t have a choice.

The Global Defense Agency took care of your monthly expenses while you were gone, as if that made any of this less scary or confusing. All you’d been told was Damien was back in Hell, Cecil put him there, and you were in danger.

No one told you much else. Cecil had acted civil toward you -- kind, even -- but it didn’t help. Damien was gone, it was Cecil’s fault, and life may never be normal again.

All because you two asked questions.

Because you wanted the truth.

And you both had paid the price: freedom.

Meanwhile, Omni-Man roamed free, ready to kill again.

You lost count of how long you’d been at GDA HQ when Nolan finally struck.

Initially, you’d been barred from the control room, but Cecil let you choose to watch the chaos or stay blind to it.

You choose not to watch. No one needed you to be in the room when all of the ruin, disaster, and chaos you and Damien knew would happen happened. Based on what Cecil told you after, you were glad you decided to stay out of it.

All of those innocent people, now dead. All of that destruction. All of that carnage, and for what? Omni-Man had fled.

It was for nothing.

And Debbie…

You’d offered as much comfort as you could. You knew how it felt to lose a loved one (it took all you had not to look pointedly at Cecil when you told her that) and the woman needed someone to lean on. Someone not quite so cold as Cecil.

And he’d watched you. Despite everything, you comforted Debbie and Mark, putting on a brave face as if you haven’t lost everything, too. Cecil knows you’re still hurting -- why wouldn’t you be?

Cecil was many things, and a man who paid his debts was absolutely one of them.

He’d been searching since he put Darkblood back in Hell for it: the spell to undo what he did. To summon him back. His plan was always to bring him back, if such a thing existed. He’d had his people looking for months with no luck, and he’d already given you the all clear to go home, with the promise your rent and utilities were paid for until you could get back on your feet.

Yeah. Right. How the fuck do you do that? Your partner -- not only in profession but your partner -- was gone, your office had been trashed, and your apartment felt so empty it was somehow suffocating.

For weeks after you’d returned, you’d laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling, jumping at any change in the temperature, hoping one day you’d look up and see him, only to find it was the apartment complex’s shitty circulation.

The news talked about things going back to normal, yet normal sounded like a foreign language now. How was the world supposed to be any kind of normal again?

Cecil made a few visits to check on you, but you regarded him with coldness that could rival that of Damien’s. He couldn’t blame you.

You’d lost track of the days when the sigh that escaped your lips was accompanied by a small fog. You froze, sitting up from your temporary home on the couch before exhaling again. Just to be sure.

And there it was again: the small visage of your breath indicating the decrease in temperature you’d been ignoring out of lost hope.

“Damien…?”

“Yes, amare?” the gruff baritone was music to your ears as you turned toward your kitchen. There he was: red, large, and intimidating -- yet that soft look in his gaze remained, as if no time at all had passed.

“Damien!” you leapt over the couch, nearly tumbling to the ground before two strong arms grab you, pulling you into the warmest yet coldest bear hug you’ve ever gotten.

“Sorry for delay. Had to...speak with Cecil...” he rumbles, clawed hand carding through your hair, “Need to be ‘debriefed’ but...had to see you.”

“I can tell you what you missed.” you mumble, burying your face in his arms. He pulls you tighter still, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Later,” he says.

And for a moment -- how long, you’re not sure -- you both just sit there on the living room floor, holding each other in a silent, loving embrace. Tears stream down your face, stinging from the cold emanating from Damien. His hand moves to brush them away, and the contact makes you cry more. You missed him. It had been so long.

After what felt like forever, you part -- just enough to look at each other. He, of course, looks no different. Demons didn’t age like humans did. You, however, probably look like shit. You hadn’t looked in a mirror in forever, but you knew your hair was much longer. You hadn’t bothered to get it cut in...how long had it been? It wasn’t like you could’ve gotten it cut, anyway. The city had been rebuilding, and getting anywhere was...well, hell.

“Beautiful as the day I lost you,” he says, and your tears well up again.

“I know I look like shit, Damien,” you say, trying to laugh off the sudden absence of your grief. He smiles slightly -- a rare sight.

“To me you look like heaven, amare,” he replies.

Amare. His nickname for you. You think its Latin, but you’ve never looked into what it means. You never asked, either, assuming he’d just tell you one day.

But you almost lost him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look into it after he was gone, and now that he was here again….you decide to ask.

“You’ve called me that since we became partners. What does it mean?”

“Supposed to be a detective.” he replies. His own attempt at a joke, you muse. You’re in no mood for it.

“Damien, please.”

He looks at you fondly, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Love. It means love.”

You should’ve figured, yet you find yourself crying again, and his arms wrap tighter around you in a protective, loving embrace.

There was more to be said between you two. You both know it. What happened to Damien in Hell? How did everything with Nolan go down here? Now that Cecil knew how to banish and summon Damien as he pleased, what would become of your demon detective?

All need answers. Resolutions.

But not now.

Now was the time for healing: for the world, for humanity, and for you and your demon in that tiny apartment.

You had him back, and though so much hangs in the air, that was enough.

[eliemo]

Something Long and Stupid

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

TWs: Violence, threats, strong language, blood

Notes: Superhero au, Spiderman Virgil, Deadpool Remus, enemies to lovers Dukexiety

New project that nobody asked for. I know I should finish my ongoing wips before starting a new one but I do not control the hyperfixation.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

When Virgil kicked Remus in the chest and sent him hurtling off the building into an active construction site, Remus found himself thinking about how they’d met.

Honestly, it hadn’t started off much better. Spiderman was a piece of shit who thought he was so much better than Remus just because Deadpool killed some people every now and then.

Well, that had been the first impression anyway. They hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot.

Remus had been doing his job, thank you very much, he was a mercenary for hire, it wasn’t like he’d been going after a gang of strangers for fun. And he certainly hadn’t needed help.

There were three of them and one of him, just some standard thugs that had been causing a bit too much trouble for people with more money to spend, their names already set to pay for Remus’s rent this month.

He’d unsheathed his swords, (guns would make it over too quickly, and what was the fun in that?) letting the assholes get their hopes up by grabbing for their own weapons and then—

Then all his targets were all suddenly covered in webs, firmly plastered to the nearest wall with threats and screaming that Remus ignored in favor of whirling around, slicing the air with his blades.

“Hey, what the fuck?”

Spiderman was half hanging off the wall, stepping back down onto the ground when he saw Remus staring. “You’re welcome,” he called, like Remus had asked for him to come in ruin is fun.

Remus scoffed, because rude. You don’t just steal someone’s kill like that. But at least they were immobilized now, which meant shooting them and getting the day over with would be a piece of cake. The webs weren’t budging no matter how frantically they kicked.

He yanked his gun from his belt to do exactly that, only to have another web (seriously, fucking spider webs had no business being this strong) wrapped around his wrist, another pulling the pistol right out of his hand.

“Uh, motherfucker?” Remus took a step back, furiously grabbing at the lingering webs with his bare hands, grimacing at the way it clung to his leather. “Jeez, you want me to decapitate them instead?”

“They’re already down,” the asshole said, like Remus hadn’t noticed. “Back off, Deadpool.”

Remus didn’t have time to be surprised that Spiderman knew who he was, far too busy wanting to run over and punch him right in his stupid masked face. “Ok, clearly you don’t know my deal. Move it, Webs.”

“Then you don’t know mine,” he said, masked eye staring blankly from underneath the hood over his suit. “I’m not letting you murder defenseless people.”

“They’re not fucking defenseless.”

“They’re not breaking free,” the spider said. “The cops will take whoever I capture for them. Call them and leave.”

Remus scoffed and tightened his hold on his sword, wondering if he really wanted to get into a fight with Spiderman in the middle of the afternoon. It was only fucking Tuesday, he was too tired to deal with this shit. “And they can take them in body bags. Give me my gun back.”

Remus was a good foot taller than him, and loaded with about three times as many weapons, but the masked asshole didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. God, he was probably smirking under his suit.

“I finished the fight, I get to decide.” He turned around, his back to Remus like he didn’t even care. “Maybe try to be faster next time.”

“Oh, fuck right off with that,” Remus snarled. “Fuck off. Fuck off and suck a fat dick, you fucking—”

“Either you walk away, or I leave you tied to the wall.”

“Kinky,” Remus smirked, even if Spiderman couldn’t see it under his own mask. “But fat fucking luck. No way in hell am I letting some bitch in black and purple spanx steal my kill.”

Spiderman actually had the audacity to sigh, like he was dealing with a petulant child. “Nobody’s getting killed.”

“You know, I’ve got more than one gun,” Remus said, mentally calculating how fast he’d have to move to shoot every single person in this alleyway. “I’m playing nice. Get out of my way.”

“You’re not shooting someone who can’t fight back.”

“Oh, are you the moral police?” Jesus, Remus wanted to punch this guy. “Man, fuck off. It’s none of your business.”

He grabbed for his other gun, only to immediately feel something wrap around his waist and legs, yanking hard and lifting him into the air. He shouted something he really hoped no pedestrians were close by enough to overhear, doing his absolute best to give Spiderman his coldest glare as he was slammed against the brick wall, upside down, held firmly down by fucking spider webs.

“Oh, you bitch.”

Remus twisted and thrashed, and while he could feel the webs giving way already it would be a good few minutes until he was free. That fucking asshole.

“Next time I see you I’m cutting off your spider ass and hanging it on my fucking wall!”

Spiderman ignored him, and Remus watched as he grabbed the thugs Remus was supposed to kill and one by one swung them out of the alleyway before disappearing completely.

That whore.

It hadn’t been long, unfortunately, until they’d met again, and Remus had of course tried to punch the asshole right in the head.

They’d ended up on the same rooftop, which was even worse because Remus came up here to relax. Spiderman had just been sitting there, legs dangling over the edge as he watched over the city, looking almost peaceful with his hood down and the sun beating against his mask.

So Remus had immediately vaulted over and swung at him as hard as he possibly could.

And then he’d missed, because of course Spidey had to have fucking inhuman reflexes, which was bullshit. He’d ducked away and managed to jump to Remus’s side before Remus even registered that his fist had met nothing but air.

“Can you leave?” Spiderman asked, so unbothered it only made Remus angrier. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Making sure people don’t get killed,” he said, moving back towards the ledge. “You should try it sometime.”

Remus crossed his arms, watching the vigilante in disbelief. “You get that I’m a mercenary, right? You’re surprised by the killing thing?”

“I’m not,” he said, and he still wouldn’t even look at Remus. “But I’m stopping it when I can.”

“Oh? So you’re ruining a small business?” Remus threw his arms out and turned towards the ledge overlooking the bustling city. “Spiderman doesn’t support small businesses, you heard it here first, folks!”

Spidey was staring at him now, and Remus had a sneaking suspicion he would not appreciate the look he was being given if the mask was taken off. Asshole.

“I don’t support killing people, Deadpool.”

“Sucks,” Remus said. “You should’ve stayed out of the way. If I wasn’t so kind and generous I would have shot you.”

“You mean if you hadn’t been tied up and defenseless,” Spiderman corrected, and Remus was right back to wanting to punch him. “You’re lucky I didn’t get you arrested.”

Remus dramatically put a hand to his chest and gasped, walking along the roof’s edge. “Oh no. What ever would I have done? I’d be defeated! My one weakness. C ops.”

Spidey didn’t respond, but he did get up and move away when Remus got a bit too close to where he was perched on the ledge. Ha .

“Maybe I should have called the cops on you, Spidey,” Remus added. “They’d finally catch the masked menace. Some jail time might humble you.”

“I’d be fine,” Spiderman said. “I wasn’t the one tied to a wall.”

Remus hopped back onto the roof with a growl, grimacing at the reminder of how long it had taken to get those webs off his suit. “Yeah, don’t do that shit again. Seriously, I can and will end you.”

“Get in line behind half the city, Deadpool.”

Remus scoffed, something he apparently did a lot of whenever talking to Spiderman, and followed him across the rooftop. “Man, your ratings are shit. At least I don't act like a hero.”

It was hard to see, barely noticeable, but Remus saw Spidey’s shoulders tense, just a bit. Apparently he’d struck a nerve. Good.

“I don’t act like anything,” he said, and it was just a little less cocky than before. “I’m just trying to help people.”

“Oh, so you’re playing hero.” Remus grinned, moving until he was crouched right in front of the vigilante. “Ooh ooh, let me guess...you’re in college. You’re ...22. Maybe 23, or 24. You got these big bad powers one day and figured you were the only one in the whole wide world who could protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves.”

Spidey didn’t answer, just looked at him with that blank, unamused stare, so Remus continued. “Or were you born with them? Doesn’t seem like it, you’ve only popped up in the last two or three years—”

“It’s none of your business,” Spiderman cut in, and Remus smirked. “And you’re wrong, for the record.”

“Oh I am, am I?” Remus asked, amused despite himself. “If nobody wants you, why are you even trying?”

Spidey was tense now, and doing a real bad job of hiding it. “Maybe I don’t give a shit what people think.”

“Right.” Remus didn’t need to see the guy’s face to know that wasn’t it. “You do realize how much money you could make with those powers, right?”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m fine doing what I’m doing.”

Remus looked him over, he’d seen spidey all over newspapers and on TV before, but this was the first time actually talking to him in person, besides the other day when the asshole had ruined his afternoon. Honestly, it was kinda underwhelming. He expected the suit to be higher tech, at least.

“Are you broke?” he asked. “You seem broke. I could make you a way better mask, by the way. It looks like shit.”

“I’m sure,” Spidey said, completely ignoring his generous offer. Rude. “And how much do you get paid for killing people?”

“A lot.”

Spiderman hummed nonchalantly, no longer looking at Remus. “Well, I’m glad it’s worth it.”

“It is! I sleep like a baby in my king sized bed.” And yeah, that was a little bit of a lie. Barely.. He wasn’t living that luxuriously, New York was expensive as shit, but based on his tech he was way better off than Webs.

“That’s wonderful,” Spiderman said and damn, apparently the masked menace was capable of being a sarcastic bastard as well as a cocky asshole. “You done pretending now? Can I go?”

“I’m not pretending anything.”

“Yeah, ok.” Spiderman was back to sounding arrogant, and Remus couldn’t remember why they were talking instead of fighting to the death. “I know you sleep like shit.”

Remus actually laughed, humorless and cold, because what the fuck?

“Oh yeah?”

“Nobody kills for a living if their life is going great,” Spidey said. “What horrible trauma pushed you to that decision?”

Oh, this motherfucker. This piece of shit. He was so dead when Remus could catch him off guard.

“Nobody puts on a costume and fights crime when half the city wants him dead if his life is going great, either.” Remus smirked, moving to try to get Spidey to look at him again. “At least I get money for it. No student loan debt at 26 is pretty nice.”

He probably shouldn’t have given the vigilante that was quickly turning into his sworn enemy his age but eh. What was he gonna do, kill him? Remus didn’t stay dead.

“That’s great,” Spiderman said. “And all it cost was people’s lives.”

“Yep!” Remus hoped it came out cheery enough to piss him off a little more. “Think of it this way, Spidey. They’re gonna die anyway.”

Spiderman immediately straightened up and stalked to the other end of the rooftop, clearly wanting the conversation to end. Mission accomplished. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s true!” he called, just to drive home the fuck off a bit more. “Someone would have gotten to them eventually.”

“They’re still people, Deadpool.”

Remus shrugged. “Good people don't get hits put on them.”

“Maybe not,” the vigilante agreed. “But good people don’t murder in exchange for money, either.”

Remus barked another laugh at that, more genuine this time because... yeah? Duh. “No shit. I never fucking said I was a good person.”

“You’re lucky you haven't killed anyone innocent yet.” And goddammit there was that ‘hero’ shit again that made Remus want to throw up. He’d just been starting to have fun, too.

“It’s still not your business.”

“It will be,” Spidey said, perched on the ledge in a way that would make Remus dizzy if he cared. “Stick to killing criminals and we'll be fine.”

“Oh?” Remus followed, smirking in a way that would probably get him punched if he took off his mask. “Are you gonna come get me if I’m not good?”

“That’s my job.”

“Aw, don’t worry,” Remus teased. “I’ll wear something sexy for you.”

“Gross.”

“Love you too, Spider Babe!”

Spidey scoffed, responding with a gloved middle finger when Remus winked. Remus watched a web shoot from his wrist, and suddenly Spiderman was gone, swinging across New York rooftops, leaving Remus to try to figure out how he was getting down.

Remus honestly hadn’t expected to see him again. He was fucked in the head, but he didn’t have any plans to lose control and start killing everyone in sight. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t a villain Spiderman needed to spend time tracking down. New York was busy enough for both of them already.

He did plan on chucking the nearest heavy object at him if he ever saw Spidey swinging past. That never ended up happening. Not that he cared. He didn’t miss him.

He expected to catch a glimpse of him eventually, maybe close enough to yell a few lighthearted threats or call him names, but nothing as entertaining as the argument on the roof.

What he hadn’t expected, was to run right into the masked menace while walking home in the middle of the night.

Remus had just finished a job, something standard and quick, and after wiping the blood from his blades he’d decided to take the long way home. The sun had set, the night air was crisp and relaxing, and it helped Remus forget about the blood stains he needed to wash away.

He’d been cutting through sidestreets, mentally mapping out how to get back to his place. He turned a corner into an alleyway, and—

And there was Spiderman, hunched over himself and leaned against the wall like he’d been using it for support, shaking, gasping, and completely drenched in deep red blood.

Remus froze, and Spidey did too as soon as he registered Deadpool standing just a few paces away, the two of them staring silently for what felt like an eternity.

“Dude,” Remus said when he found his voice. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Spiderman was clutching at his chest, black and purple suit barely able to hide the red stains, leaned heavily against the brick wall as he watched Remus warily. “Nothing.”

“Don’t be stupid. Whose blood is that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he snapped, and his voice was wavering. “Keep walking.”

Remus took a step forward, frowning at the way the vigilante went tense against the wall. He ignored it. “Whose blood is it?” It came out more of a command than a question this time.

“Mostly mine,” Spiderman said, and Remus could see it pooling around his gloves now that he was closer. “It’s fine.”

“Why’re you bleeding?”

“None of your business. Go home.”

Remus tried to get a better look from where he stood, well aware that approaching might not be the best idea right now. “Was it a gun or a knife?”

“It was none of your business and you need to go away.”

Remus watched him, incredulous, because the idiot was barely standing and losing way too much blood way too quickly, and he was pretty sure Spiderman didn’t have Remus’s whole immortality deal.

“You really want to bleed out on the street like some street thug?”

The vigilante hesitated, and Remus listened to the way his breathing was turning into awful sounding wheezes. “I’m...not going to bleed out. I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus challenged, probably a bit more aggressively than was needed for someone who looked like they were about to keel over. “Walk over to me then.”

He’d expected the lack of response, but even though the eyes built into the suit were practically lifeless (he really should get him some more advanced goggles. He’d be a lot more approachable if his eyes weren’t so blank) Remus could still see his whole body tense in fear.

“No,” he said, low and trembling. “Fuck off.”

“Spidey, this isn’t a joke.” Jesus, that was a lot of blood. “You’re gonna bleed out.”

“And you can throw a party—”

“Fucking come here.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he wasn’t going to just stand here bickering with the city’s hero until he dropped dead. But Spidey still shook his head, pressed even further against the wall now, and Remus sighed. “Fine.”

Remus took a few steps forward, initially planning on prying his arms away to get a better look at the wound, but Spiderman flinched back, trying to scramble away like Remus was coming at him with a weapon.

Well, Remus supposed that made sense. He had threatened to kill him a couple times last time they spoke.

“Chill it, Spidey.” Remus crouched a bit, suddenly painfully aware of how much taller he was, carefully holding his hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you,” he shot back. Which...yeah, fair. “I know you want to.”

“Does it look like I have a knife in my hand?” Remus asked. “No. Chill out and let me see.”

Spidey didn’t pull away when Remus took his shoulders, but he did flinch as soon as Deadpool touched him, probably involuntarily. Remus ignored it, focusing instead on figuring out where the blood was coming from. It was almost impossible in the dark lighting, especially up against the black suit.

“It’s...not that bad,” Spiderman rasped. “Seriously.”

Remus wasn’t buying that for a second. “What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened,” Spidey said, arms still wrapped firmly around himself. “It...there were five of them and one of them got lucky with a knife.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Remus pulled back, trying to figure out what to do. “You are stupid. Where?”

He only hesitated a moment. “Uh, my chest. I heal fast.”

“Jesus. How fast?”

Spiderman shrugged, then obviously regretted it when it pulled at the stab wound. “Hopefully fast enough,” he said. “I’ll be fine tomorrow or I’ll be dead.”

“Jesus,” Remus said again, because what the fuck else was he supposed to say? “Sit down. Jesus Christ.”

Spidey thankfully did as he said, though Remus suspected it had more to do with the fact that he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore rather than actually following instructions.

He wasn’t fighting anymore, almost limp as Remus took his wrists and moved them to his sides, but he did look like he was ready to bolt the second Deadpool made one wrong move.

Like he wouldn’t fall right on his face and hurt himself worse if he tried.

Remus could see the source of the blood now, a deep gash across his upper chest that had apparently sliced the black and purple suit like butter, still gushing crimson with each passing second.

Shit.

“Alright, uh.” This wasn’t his expertise in the slightest. Other than digging out some bullets, Remus didn't have to tend to his wounds. “I don’t think I have any fabric or...oh, your hoodie. Hand it over.”

Spiderman stared, and if he didn’t hurry up and get with the program Remus was going to knock him out and handle this himself. “Why?”

“Because you’re bleeding out. Give it.”

Spidey at least had the sense to listen and carefully peel the hoodie away from his suit, sliding it down his arms even as his gloved hands shook violently. Remus couldn’t help but wince at the noise Spiderman tried to choke back, because that had to hurt like a bitch.

“Maybe, like...lay down?” Remus suggested. “Yeah, do that. It’ll help.”

Spidey still hesitated, even as the blood continued to flow and he started to slide down against his will. “I...need to see what you’re doing.”

Remus sighed, bunching up the hoodie and pressing it firmly against the wound, ignoring the strangled gasp that came from the vigilante. Blood was quickly soaking through the cloth, and Remus just pressed harder.

“I’m just putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding,” Remus said. “If I wanted to kill you I’d leave you here. If it stops bleeding you’ll heal, right?”

The only answer he got was another wet, trembling gasp when Remus pushed harder, Spiderman’s blood soaking into his gloves. It took a second for him to realize he was grasping at Remus’s wrists, his hold weak.

“H-hopefully,” Spidey managed, and he really didn’t sound great. His eyes were drooping, and Remus figured the biggest danger right now was letting him fall asleep. “Or, you know. I’ll die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Remus said without thinking. “I’m gonna stop the bleeding, you’re gonna heal with whatever weird powers you have, and then you’ll be less of a careless idiot next time.”

A few moments passed without an answer, and for once Remus wasn’t entirely sure how to fill the silence. The only sound between them was Spiderman’s labored, ragged breathing, which at least sounded a bit less shaky and faint as Remus continued to press down.

“What are you doing?” Spidey asked eventually, catching Remus completely off guard with the stupid question. “Why are you...trying to help?”

Remus wasn’t trying to do anything. He was helping. The city’s beloved hero would have been dead five minutes ago if he hadn’t managed to interrupt Remus’s perfectly nice, peaceful walk.

He hadn’t even really thought about it. Remus was an asshole, a murderer for a living, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t the guy who was going to leave New York’s savior to bleed out in an alleyway.

Besides, he’d been the first person Remus had been able to have a somewhat entertaining conversation with in months.

“Somebody’s gotta save everyone,” he eventually settled on, still pressing hard against the wound. “And I refuse to be the city’s only mouthy vigilante.”

Another beat of silence, and for a moment Remus thought he might have fallen asleep. “I don’t...save anyone. And I’m not mouthy.”

“You do,” Remus argued. “And you are.”

“I don’t,” he snapped, and at least he didn’t seem inclined to argue about the mouthy thing. “You do your job better than I do.”

Remus took a moment to look over the bleeding hero. He was weak and trembling, and probably dangerously pale and clammy under that suit. The blood flow had definitely slowed, but it hadn't stopped. There was a good chance he wouldn’t remember a damn thing Remus said to him tonight.

And if he did, it’s not like he really gave a shit, anyway.

“I’m a mercenary,” Remus said. “Anyone can kill someone. It takes something a lot stronger to save them. So shut up and stop being self deprecating.”

Spiderman shuddered when Remus carefully peeled back the bloody hoodie, leaning in to get a better look at where they were at. Either he was just that good at fixing stab wounds, or Spidey’s healing powers were gradually starting to kick in.

Remus decided to go with the former. He deserved it.

“I got someone killed tonight,” Spidey said, quiet and unbearably sad. “She...she died because I wasn’t fast enough, and I didn’t—”

“You can’t save everyone.”

The vigilante pulled his hands away from Remus’s wrists, like he’d just realized he was holding them. “I should have tried harder.”

Remus sighed. “You tried hard enough. You did fine.”

That was apparently the end of the conversation, Spiderman falling back into silence as Remus went back to making sure he didn’t start bleeding all over the place again. He didn’t have anything on him to properly clean it up, he wasn’t sure he even owned a first-aid kit, but Spidey’s breathing was starting to even out, and after about ten minutes or so the blood stopped flowing completely.

“You, uh...you good?”

“I’ll be fine,” Spiderman said, and it didn’t sound like a desperate lie this time. He still looked like shit, but he was able to slowly sit up on his own. “Not dying this time. Just...still hurts.”

They were plunged back into silence, slightly less tense than before but no less uncomfortable. Remus eventually relinquished his hold on the hoodie when Spidey was able to carefully take it from him.

Right, he was fine now. Remus didn’t need to stay, it wasn’t his business anymore. It hadn’t been his business to begin with.

“I...owe you,” Spiderman said, almost like it was strange for him to admit. “So, thank y—”

“Don’t thank me, Spidey.” God, this had been a mistake, hadn’t it? “Seriously. Just buy me a pizza sometime and we’ll call it square.”

Spiderman stared for second, unsteady hands holding his own hood to his chest, but the small laugh that escaped at least sounded genuine, and no longer quite so pained.

“Ok,” he said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Remus hesitated before standing, not really sure if it would be more rude to leave or stay at this point. Spiderman probably didn’t want a mercenary for hire standing over him while he was wounded, whether Remus had saved his life or not.

Remus was still just as far from a hero as the villains Spiderman fought, and both of them had a reputation to keep.

“You sure you’re ok?” Remus asked. “I can like...stay. Or call you an ambulance or...something.”

“I’m good,” Spidey said, sitting up with a small hiss of pain until he was propped up against the wall, breathing still heavy. “You stopped the bleeding, I’ll live. You can go home, Deadpool.”

“Right.” He carefully stepped around the vigilante, still keeping a close eye on his chest to make sure the bleeding didn’t start again. “Just don’t die after all my hard work. My gloves are fucking soaked.”

Spiderman scoffed, but it was more good natured and light than it had been the last time they talked. “You got it.”

Remus kept walking down the alley, only turning around once more before turning the corner at the end. “And don’t forget my pizza, Spidey!”

[yeojaa]

Hi miss erin! Can I have jk x reader with #18🥺

❪  💜  PROMPT !  ❫

things you said when you were scared

[ read they don’t love you like i love you ]

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  fluff.  the barest hint of angst if you squint really, really hard.  wc.  0.9k.

Love is scary.  It’s never been something you could look at and say “see, that’s love.”  It existed in too many forms, presented itself in too many ways. 

It terrifies you - and Jungkook can do nothing about it.  He tries though and with time and patience and all of his shitty corny jokes, things have gotten better.  You’ve softened, fallen in love despite yourself.  

Sometimes, you’re still a little out of reach - just a little too far.  (On more than one occasion, he’s wondered if he’s asking for too much.)  

It’s easier when he thinks how much progress you’ve made.

“Your number in exchange for my troubles?”

“No.”  You’d said it so clearly, not an ounce of hesitation.  Even with him dressed in your coffee, you’d refused him.  “Sorry.”  You hadn’t sounded very sorry.

Imagine his surprise when he’d met you again, a week later, at a mutual friend’s birthday.

“Can I have your number now?”  Jungkook was nothing if not persistent.  

You had refused to budge, sipping politely at your cranberry vodka and studying him over the rim of the glass.  “No.”

It’d only been at the end of the night, when you’d been making your rounds - saying goodbye and swinging hands around shoulders - that you’d finally said yes.  Probably because you were maybe, just a little, slightly under the influence.  

When you’d smiled, though - he could’ve sworn you were just as happy as he was.

It was the first snowfall in the city, nearly three months since you’d started seeing each other.  You’d pouted and whined, staring out the huge industrial windows with your chin in your hand.

“Snow sucks,”  you’d huffed, puffed like a big bad wolf. 

“Let’s go away then.”  He’d been meaning to ask - had looked at tickets just that morning, in his free period before his students had come milling into his classroom babbling about their weekends.  There’d been a deal somewhere tropical, somewhere you’d mentioned once in passing when he’d been looking at the weather forecast.

“Or not.”  

“Why not?”  His insistence was the same as it always was, creeping up your spine and sitting comfortably around your shoulders.  A woolen scarf that’d keep you warm even on the coldest of nights.

“That’s like…”  You’d shrugged, pushed your way out of bed to busy yourself with something in the kitchen.  He could read you like a book even then, practically mouth the words you’d speak next.  “Kind of serious.”

“We’re kind of serious, aren’t we?”

He hadn’t expected the look you’d tossed his way, fleeting but terribly clear in the dim light. Worry.

You’d said yes, again, by the end of the night.  Even when you tried, you couldn’t say no.

“Move in with me.”  It’d been your sixth consecutive hour in bed, a lazy Sunday morning that’d stretched into the afternoon.  You’d even cancelled your standing brunch reservation, opting to stay cozied up in bed together.  He’d held you like you were precious, treasure, the most important thing in the world.

You’d done the same, though you pretended not to.  You hated being vulnerable.  

“Why?”  For once, not a no.  He remembers the surprise, the lack of an outright denial spurring his eyebrows into his hairline.  You’d scowled at him, whacked a hand across his pec as if aiming for the thing that beat for you.  (Only you.)

“You’re always here anyway.”  

“You just want someone to help you with rent.”  Well, that’d been true.  As much as he loved you, you took too long showers and always forgot to turn off the light when you left.  His bills had somehow skyrocketed.  

But that wasn’t why.  The why was you.  It was always you.

It’d taken another two weeks but you were moved in before summer, all your hangers hung up beside his, your unnecessarily extensive skincare routine taking up all the real estate on his bathroom counter.

He’d thought it’d happen how it always did, starting with a no and ending with a yes.

For once, Jungkook was surprised.  You’d packed your bags and left, taking his heart with you and leaving the little velvet box on the counter.  

“I’m not marrying you,”  you’d said with an air of finality he’d never heard before.

He’d thought that’d be the end.  He was wrong then too.  

“Baby.”  

You’re half asleep on his chest, book having fallen out of your grip sometime over the last half hour.  He’s been stuck watching YouTube autoplay, too afraid of waking you up to try to grab the Apple remote stuck under your butt.

“Hu-u-uuh?”  You’re bleary-eyed, beautiful.  When you speak, he feels the little puddle of drool on his skin spread, pushed around by the shape of your mouth.  The sound you make is hilarious - decidedly not very sophisticated, a world away from the you that sees the rest of the world.

“I want a baby.”  Jungkook’s nonchalant about it because he’s learnt what the worst case scenario is and knows you’ll never be back there.  You’re stuck with him forever now.  You’d promised.

Even in your exhaustion, you’re incredulous, staring up at him like you’re not sure whether everything’s a fever dream or reality.  “You want a baby?”  

“Yeah.”  

“You are a baby.”  It’s not a no.  He latches onto that with his teeth, bares them in his adorable bunny smile he knows you can’t resist.

“I’m twenty-eight, actually.”  

“Baby.”  You’re mocking him, dropping your head back against his heated skin.  He can feel you smiling, even as you try to hide it.

“Exactly.”

[aquietwritingcorner]

Writers Month Day 2: Cold/Coffee Word Count: 2203 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: G/K Characters: Major Miles, Olivier Mira Armstrong, Captain Buccaneer Warning: NA Summary: Ephraim Miles has been transferred to Fort Briggs, and is more than a little unsure of his position there. Notes: I know that the idea of Miles being married and having a wife is due to an early fan translation and not the official translations of the manga, but I find it fun to play with! AO3 || ff.net

 _________________________________

 Cold/Coffee

 Whoever had told Ephraim Miles that Fort Briggs was cold had been wrong. Fort Briggs was colder than the underside of an ice cube. He had never felt a cold as deep as this, which, he supposed was part of the reason he was here. Miles was under no illusions as to why he had been transferred not only to the north, but specifically to Fort Briggs.

It was because of his Ishvalan blood. It was because he was a risk to the military. It was because they were suspicious that he could be a traitor to the military in favor of Ishval. (Could he be sure that they were wrong? Even he wasn’t sure.)

He had settled his wife and daughter in a home in North City. It wasn’t much, but it was what they could find at the time. People weren’t as willing to rent or sell to him when they saw his looks. It had been difficult. Karissa was going to look for them a better home while he was gone. She was a smart, strong, shrewd woman, and Miles has confidence in her abilities. He trusted her judgement. She would be alright. His daughter would be alright.

He just hoped that he would be alright.

Miles squinted and looked out at the frozen ground beyond him He had been dropped by the transport at the beginning of the road that led to the fort. Apparently, he was to walk the rest of the way. Well, so be it. It wasn’t as if complaining about it would make any difference. Shouldering his pack, Miles began the journey.

The wind cut through him as he walked, freezing him down to his bones. He distracted himself by going over what he knew about his new posting and his new commander. Fort Briggs was, basically, a giant wall that stretched from mountain to mountain in one of the more passable areas of the Briggs Mountains. For about five miles or so beyond it, the land was contested between Drachma and Amestris. Both countries claimed it. Neither had been quite willing to start a war over it. Both had people on it. There were regularly skirmishes on it.

The fort was currently under the command of Brigadier General Olivier Mira Armstrong. She had been in command of it for the past three years. Within those past three years the fort had gone from being regarded as little more then cannon fodder that would allow time for an alert to be raised and Northern Command to be mobilized to a force that would hold its own and beyond, giving no quarter, leaving no weakness, and using Northern Command as their back up.

The change could be laid at the feet of General Armstrong. She was one of Amestris’s elites, blonde haired, blue eyed, and, according to rumor, ruthless and cold. She came from a noble family, a wealthy family, who could trace its roots back to the founding of Amestris. Her family had a strong military tradition. She, herself, had been a member of special operations units, worked undercover missions, led troops in the west, and was successful in all that she did.

…Which made Miles wonder just what she was doing up here.

That wasn’t really his concern, though. He knew why he was here, and why she was here wasn’t important. What was more pressing to him, was what she would think of him. He had been sent to be her adjunct, and that meant that they would need a good sense of trust. And that was where his concern came in. She was a pure-blooded Amestrian with a pedigree that was impeccable. He was a mixed-breed mongrel with obvious roots of an enemy the military was fighting. He couldn’t discount the possibility that she would look at him, sneer, and immediately dismiss him.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

He could only deal with scenarios that could be for so long. He had braced himself for the worst and spent the rest of the time focusing on the landscape around him. He had been warned to stick to the road, and so he did. There was snow everywhere. It was an icy landscape, although, he noticed, not a barren one.  There were enclaves of trees dotting the landscape, and here and there he could see animals or the traces of where animals had been. The land itself had small dips and rolls in it, hard to see in the pure whiteness of the ground around them. They left him with the uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched, followed, and to be honest, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was.

It took him a few of hours of slogging through the snow to arrive at Fort Briggs. Learning to move through it had been tricky at first, but it really wasn’t that different then sand, once he got the hang of it, at least as far as the slickness of it. The difference was that in some places his footsteps sunk down in the snow as he walked. He quickly learned how to look for the places in the snow that looked either packed down or iced over enough that he wouldn’t sink. By the time he arrived at the fort, he was exhausted, sweaty, and absolutely freezing.

The fort itself was the most imposing building that he had ever seen. It had looked big when he got his first glimpse of it. It had grown larger and larger, rising to impossible heights. But more imposing than that was the woman who was waiting on one of the landings of the Fort.

She stood there, her hair down, her coat open, both blowing in the wind. A sheathed sword was in her hand, the sheath resting on her shoulder, and he had the distinct impression that she knew how to use it well. Her full lips were pursed, scowling, and her blue eyes pierced him, somehow colder than even the snow that was pelting his face. Behind her stood a hulking giant of a man, black hair in a mohawk that ended in a braid, a thin mustache, and a look that immediately told Miles where his loyalty lied

“We expected you sooner, Major,” her voice rang out, and command in it was clear. This was a woman used to commanding people and having orders followed. Her eyes swept over him.

Miles immediately saluted. “Apologies, General,” he said. He offered up no excuses or reasons for his apparently late arrival. He had none, and she didn’t think that this woman would accept them anyway.

For a moment, she said nothing, then just snorted and turned away. “Buccaneer! He’s all yours.”

“Yes, General, sir!” the hulking man said. He grinned down at Miles even as General Armstrong walked away. Somehow, Miles was not reassured. “Welcome to Fort Briggs, Cub,” he said. “Let’s see how fast you learn.”

Fort Briggs, Miles quickly learned over the next few weeks, was brutal. The rule of the land was survival, and the force driving everything was General Armstrong’s iron will. She was a terrifying woman, and he had barely had any interactions with her yet. He couldn’t figure out if that was because she rejected him as her adjunct, which meant that he shouldn’t count on staying here for long, or if she was just waiting for him to get through with his training period.

Miles had learned from Buccaneer that everyone who arrived at Briggs went through a six-week training period. It taught them the dangers of the mountains, of the winter, and the workings of the fort. Survival skills were heavily emphasized, as was an intimate knowledge of the fort. General Armstrong insisted that everyone know how the fort functioned so that in emergencies anyone could step up. According to Buccaneer—who wasn’t a bad fellow, just a little rough around the edges, and demanding in his requirements—even the general had gone through the same training when she arrived. It wasn’t an order then, though. She had chosen it herself, so that she would be able to understand and command effectively.

Miles could respect that.

However, the woman was still confusing to him. She clearly commanded the loyalty of her troops, almost to a fault. The men were both terrified and in awe of her. The only bad things anyone had to say about her were actually compliments from them, or things that they just brushed off, as one did a minor inconvenience.

She still had barely done more than glance his way.

Today, though, as he trudged back inside the fort, he stopped short in surprise. General Armstrong was standing there, looking over the troops as they came back in. Her eyes immediately darted to Buccaneer, who was being helped in by Stodds and Worshel, even as Lieutenant Jamin was speaking quickly to her. Her eyes met Miles’s for a moment, and he felt as if he were being assessed. Then the moment passed, and he was seeing to the rest of the patrol coming in and she was issuing orders.

The fort was locked down tightly. Everyone went on alert. Northern Command was contacted and anyone coming was ordered back. No unnecessary communications were permitted. It was standard procedure after a patrol was attacked by a Drachman patrol. Miles stayed up most of the night, writing his report on the incident and checking up on Buccaneer, who, Doc assured him, would be fine. He took his turn on the top of the fort during the coldest hours before daybreak. Aside from feeling as if he were freezing his sideburns off, nothing happened, and when he was relieved of duty, he gratefully came back inside. He was barely a dozen steps in, however, when he was suddenly stopped.

“Major.” He blinked, looking over at General Armstrong. She stood there, as if she had been waiting on him. “Walk with me.”

All he really wanted to do was find something warm to drink and go to bed, but all he said was “Yes, sir,” and followed her.

For a few moments, they walked in silence.

“Buccaneer told me what happened out there,” she said. She glanced at him. “He was rather complimentary of the way you took command.”

“Very kind of him, sir,” Miles commented back, non-committally.

She hummed. “Your training period is almost up,” she said. “You were assigned here to be my adjunct. But I don’t take commands on assignments in my fort from anyone.”

Miles just gave a neutral sounding noise. Here’s where it came. She was going to dismiss him or reduce his role. At least if he worked in the lower levels he’d be warmer. He hoped Karissa hadn’t put in an offer on that house yet.

“Instead,” she continued, “I wait until the training period is over, look at the data and recommendations, and then make the assignments from there. Just because Command thinks someone will work in a position doesn’t mean it holds true here at Briggs.”

That, Miles had to agree, was probably true. Briggs was definitely its own ecosystem, and there was no way that Command could accurately assign people to it.

“However, based upon your performances and Buccaneer’s recommendation, I have already made my decision on you.” She paused. “For the last week of your general training, after you finish, you will report to me for your training in how to be my second in command.”

Not expecting that, Miles’s feet stuttered, not exactly tripping, but definitely not a steady gait. “Sir?” he said, questioning.

She didn’t miss a beat. “You’ve proven yourself capable from the beginning. When you first arrived, you were late. It was because you were not provided with the proper equipment. Your coat was substandard, and you were not given snowshoes as you should have been. And yet you persevered and gave no excuse for your tardiness. It was ignorance on your part, I know, but your determination was still impressive. You approached every ounce of training with focus and attention, learning the workings of the Fort as well as survival here in Briggs quickly and without complaint. You’ve proven that you are intelligent and think on your feet. You are capable of accomplishing tasks even without the right tools.”

She pushed open a door, and gestured for him to follow her, continuing to talk. “You are exactly the kind of man we need here at Briggs, and the kind I need at my right hand. It will be a demanding job, but you are up to the task.”

They were in her office now, he realized, and she was waiting on something from him. There was, really, only one thing that he could say to that. He saluted. “Sir, it would be an honor.”

One side of her lips tipped up, as if she had been expecting this. “Good.” She turned away for a moment, and then faced him again, holding out a cup of coffee to him. “Let’s discuss your new duties.”

Miles took the cup, letting its warmth spread out on his hands. Maybe, just maybe, this was going to be a better posting than he thought.

[missytearex]

Hi! So I’ve decided to do monthly recs instead of weekly recs from now on, which mean this list is kinda long, so I put all the under 10k fics under the cut, but be sure to check them out too! And remember to leave kudos and comments when you do ❤

Tired Tired Sea by @mediawhorefics — [fic post]

larry | 113k | mature

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Not That Gone by @a-brighter-yellow --- [fic post]

larry | 61k | explicit

A few weeks after Louis and Harry, *ahem*, reconnect at their high school reunion, Harry temporarily moves back home. Louis isn't sure he has the emotional fortitude for a prolonged fling with the man of the dreams.

Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl — [fic post]

larry | 40k | explicit

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

I Just Want You to Stay by @sadaveniren --- [fic post]

larry | 34k | explicit

Louis and Harry have been roommates for four years, comfortable in their routine and their relationship. But all of that is about to change.

The Spaces Between Us by @justalittlelouislove — [fic post]

ziam | 33k | explicit

Liam is a ghost bound to nothing, feeling nothing. Until he finds Zayn and learns what it means to feel everything.

Give A Little Sing To The Singles by @londonfoginacup --- [fic post]

larry | 31k | teen and up

Harry Styles is an adult now, with a real adult job (and benefits! Whatever those are!). He spends his days at the copier. Copying things.

That being said, no one told Harry that being an adult came with a confusingly chaotic boss, a copier machine that would be hell-bent on ruining his life, and a coworker so good looking that Harry might just have to quit. After all, Christmas is coming and if their office doesn’t win the decorating contest, Louis has threatened to break several laws and kneecaps in retaliation.

Happy Christmas, here’s to many more.

The Goat Guy of Bethlehem by @lululawrence --- [fic post]

larry | 25k | not rated

every year, Harry and his family attend a church festival called Bethlehem. Harry's freshman year of high school Bethlehem expands, bringing in new vendors, including one that just might change everything for Harry. But first, he has to see if Anne and Robin are willing to part with him for the price of a few goats.

reach the stars by @disgruntledkittenface — [fic post]

horshaw | 19k | mature

Spring 2021. Four years after breaking up with Louis and moving to New York with his best friend Aimee, Nick runs into Niall and they start dating. When their relationship gets serious, Nick struggles to tell Niall how much he means to him.

Everything I Do by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 16k | explicit

the one where Harry finds a book of Elizabethan courtship rituals which sets in motion a series of events that can lead to only one conclusion.

High Heels, Red Dress by Anonymous --- [fic post]

larry | 15k | explicit

Louis answers the call when Pearl Harbor is attacked and there is no way around it. The United States is at war. Hiding his queer identity isn't so hard until he attracts the attention of a particular soldier. It's all lies and secrets until the war is finally over. Maybe then Louis can finally have his happy ending. It's up to fate to decide.

when half spent was the night by @juliusschmidt --- [fic post]

larry | 14k | mature

Hi Harry,

I’ve skimmed your website and am interested in hiring you to be my doula. I’m 7 ½ months pregnant and not keen to do this whole labor and birth thing alone. After looking around, I thought you might be a good fit because you mention enjoying unusual people with unusual birth requests. I can meet up any day this week.

Lou

You are the feeling of drugs, pulling the chain of my love by @peujeune — [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 10k | explicit

Louis gets bored with all the questions by the next week and tells everyone, in no uncertain terms, to fuck off, in a Facebook post he subsequently deletes the next day. Instead, he chooses to ignore all his friends.

And text Nick.

you’ve set my soul to dreaming by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed — [fic post]

larry | 9k | teen and up

Thirty year old Harry Styles goes to bed single on Christmas Eve, only to wake up on Christmas morning with a husband in his bed and a son down the hall.

The Truth I Can’t Explain (Smoke and Mirrors) by @fallinglikethis — [fic post]

larry | 9k | mature

Louis Tomlinson scans the horizon. It’s dark, but his werewolf eyes are equipped for that. He sees clearly in the inky black of the forest around them. He and every other wolf can see the moment the first blood mage crosses the boundary into their compound. The mages must think they’ve disabled the wards on the edges of the boundary but the wolves did that themselves when they found out the mages were coming. Louis’ pack has opened the door and put down the welcome mat. It’s up to the mages whether that mat becomes stained in blood.

on the same page by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 8k | mature

The one where Louis doesn’t know what the hell is going on.

You’re a Nightmare, I’m a Disaster by @lululawrence --- [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 7k | not rated

the one where Nick is a writer, Louis works in a bookshop, and things don’t exactly start off on the right foot, but they might just end on it.

The Gingerbread Show Off by @homosociallyyours --- [fic post]

larry | 6k | general audiences

The Gingerbread Show Off is the biggest event of the year at Harry's still sort of new to him job, and when he's given a spot to compete in it he's beyond excited. When he realizes that he's going to be paired up with Louis, the man who's been sneakily stealing his ideas since almost their first day of working together, he's understandably frustrated.

He still wants to win, though, and he's not going to let his office enemy bring him down.

The Circle of Life is Not a Circle, it’s a Stick by @lounonymouse --- [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 5k | teen and up

This is a story about Louis, his husband Nick, their daughter Ella, and her pet stick insect Mr Sticky McStick-Face.

B-Sides & C-Cuts by @bitter-leaf — [fic post]

shiall | 5k | teen and up

Niall’s stuck in Toronto the day before Christmas Eve. Shawn plans to make the most of it.

A Not So Silent Night by @lightwoodsmagic --- [fic post]

ziam | 5k | teen and up

Liam's had a crush on Zayn for months, every time they talk on the phone just making him grow fonder. He's just never met him in real life. When he finally gets to meet him, it turns out that he can't take his eyes off him dancing on the table at the bank's Christmas party. Especially when he starts taking off his sweater.

Summer Love by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 5k | teen and up

Summers at his lake house are Harry’s favorite time of the year. They’re treasured moments in time spent with Louis, his favorite person. The boy with the bluest eyes, the brightest smile and loudest laugh. Harry’s best friend for all of his summers. He’s gonna marry him someday. All that Louis needs to do is ask him - again.

my heart got caught on your sleeve by @foliealou  — [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 5k | general audiences

Louis Tomlinson decides to come out: a story in three acts.

it's getting bluer (and you can't keep faking) by @dinoflangellate --- [fic post]

nessie | 4k | explicit

For a second, Niall can’t move, pinned in place by Bressie’s casual words. Get you sorted could mean so many things, things he wants, and his brain almost explodes.

I Knew From The First Time by Anonymous --- [fic post]

larry | 4k | teen and up

Harry spent weeks picking out a gorgeous ring, and months planning every little detail of the perfect anniversary trip to propose to Louis. Except it doesn't go as planned and the ring disappears.

Harry Styles Plays with Kittens While Answering Questions by @sadaveniren — [fic post]

larry | 4k | teen and up

Louis runs a Youtube channel and Harry is his celebrity guest

to love you in word and deed by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 4k | general audiences

Louis loves everything about living with Harry. Except for Harry’s effusive proposals. Because the problem is, it’s getting harder and harder for Louis to keep reacting like they’re jokes.

Roll the Dice by @allwaswell16 — [fic post]

larry | 3k | explicit

Louis has been in love with Harry since they were eighteen. It isn’t until Harry’s thirtieth birthday in Las Vegas that Louis must finally decide to either tell Harry how he feels or let him marry someone else.

molecular by @dinoflangellate — [fic post]

zouis | 3k | teen and up

The team pushes into the lab, jostling each other through the sliding glass doors. Eenie, meenie, miney, mo. There they are, the four of them, present and accounted for. Louis shoves his way in last, looking sweaty and triumphant, and the hand around Zayn’s heart finally unclenches.

Unto You by @londonfoginacup — [fic post]

larry | 3k | teen and up

Louis is a lamplighter celebrating the saturnalia season in his own way.

Harry is heavily pregnant and new in the city.

The holiday of Christmas is yet to be created.

Brring Brring (that’s the land line) by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 3k | general audiences

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles have been dating for six months and two weeks.

It’s one in the morning, and the phone rings.

Snowdrops and Mice Pops by @ohharold --- [fic post]

larry | 3k | teen and up

The boys are stuck at Hogwarts over Christmas incapable of taking the Hogwarts Express back to London. A botched together friends Christmas would have to do.

step into christmas by leighbot

zarry | 2k | general audiences

the one where Zayn's written a Christmas book for children and Harry brings his son to a local reading.

Oh Valley Girl by @londonfoginacup — [fic post]

larry | 2k | general audiences

Out past the rolling hills and the churning sea sits a little fishing village, nestled in a valley where its residents are protected from the elements, as well as from the outside world as a whole.

Harry lives in this little fishing village, and she loves nothing more than feeling the earth beneath her and seeing the sky above her and sometimes dreaming of adventure.

Then one day a ship arrives.

Tricks and Treats by @homosociallyyours --- [fic post]

larry | 1k | general audiences

wherein Louis receives a package not intended for him, Harry has a brilliant idea, and the two of them meet properly at a Halloween party.

Gratuitous puns, bone® jokes, and creepy neighbors abound!

This Is Halloween by @hadtobelou --- [fic post]

larry | 1k | explicit

Louis' Halloween doesn't go as planned.

Scarily Incompatible by soidiallednine 

larry | 666 | general audiences

Harry seems perfect for Louis. Lottie certainly thinks so. But one really scary choice by Harry will doom them before they start.

something weird (but it do look good) by @uhohmorshedios — [fic post]

larry | 666 | teen and up

Harry’s upset that Louis didn’t appreciate his attempt to put a very-Harry twist on a Halloween meme and Louis tries his best to make it up to him.

take my hand (i won’t let go) by @tempolarriefix — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

in which zayn and liam are in love, niall doesn’t want to third wheel, louis hates scary things, and harry works in a haunted house.

aka the ficlet haunted house meet-cute that you never knew you needed.

The Devil Went Down to Georgia by @kingsofeverything — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

Louis just wants to fall in love for eternity.

the future reflected by @louandhazaf — [fic post]

larry | 666 | not rated

Louis didn’t take the stupid game seriously. Maybe he should’ve.

The Literal Gates of Hell by @evilovesyou — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

Louis has a passion for the supernatural and tends to drag his friends into his ghost and demon hunting adventures. His guardian angel isn’t too pleased when they set out to find one of the actual gates of hell.

You Win by @ziamhaze --- [fic post]

ziam | 666 | general audiences

Based off this AU: A werewolf finds a human who is strolling in the woods late at night, and just before the werewolf goes to attack the human, the human then starts to beat box and the werewolf is too intrigued to attack them.

I Still Follow by @smoke-flowers — [fic post]

zarry | 606 | general audiences

The sky is cloaked in black velvet, but he swears he sees stars.

[rosemary-morgan]

John Marston X F.Reader: The sky in her eyes - Part 2

(pictures found on pinterest)

Hello lovely ones (✿◕‿◕✿)

Here comes the second part of “The sky in her yes” 😊 I hope you all will enjoy this chapter. Thank´s so much for all the likes, reblogs and comments. Thank you so much dear ones 🖤🖤 Means a lot to me!!

Warning: attempted rape, blood, violence, angst

PART 1

(¯`v´¯)                                                      (¯`v´¯) `*.¸.*´                                                        `*.¸.*´ ¸.•´¸.•*¨) ¸.•*¨) (`’·.¸(`’·.¸  ¸.·’´) ¸.·’´)  (¨*•.¸ (¨*•.¸`•.¸ (¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´ ¸¸.•¨¯`•               •`¯¨• ¸¸ `•. `•.¸) `•.¸) `*.¸.*´                                                       `*.¸.*´

The sky in her eyes - 2

John had finished his work for today. He was exhausted, but very pleased. It wasn't easy to shear a sheep if it didn't want to keep still. But in the end, John won that fight. Satisfied, he collected the rest of the wool in the wheelbarrow, knowing that this would bring him good money. Sheep wool was very popular in this area, especially since it would keep you very warm even in the coldest winter days. John brought the wool into the barn, which he put in a pile. After doing that, he sighed softly and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The young man was completely sweaty, and he immediately went to his house to wash the sweat off his body. When he climbed the stairs to his porch, he heard a noise. Something had fallen to the floor. At first, John didn't care about it, but when he heard a soft whimper, he became very curious. He frowned in confusion, followed the soft whimper, and when he saw what kind of visitor he had, his features softened.

"Oh, hey, little feller." A puppy was standing in front of him. A golden retriever who had left a little chaos on his porch. A broken pot of a plant, a torn piece of clothing. Well, John wasn't angry about that. He was still a puppy, and therefore very playful.

But, where did this little feller come from? John approached the puppy, whereupon he immediately came curiously towards the young man and sniffed him. "Hey, are you all alone here?" When John looked around, he couldn't see anyone. He also saw that the dog's fur was dirty. He was probably alone for days. John sighed softly, sad to see the puppy in this condition. He lovingly patted the animal, and in the end, he decided to take care of him. At least until someone wanted this dog back. He was probably already missing. "All right, my friend. You´ll stay with me."

(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´

"Hey, sweetheart! I WANT SOME BEER!" "HEY! I've been waiting for my food for a long time! WHERE THE HELL IS IT?!" "EY, SUGAR! OVER HERE!" You could hardly save yourself from all these people and their desires. You had been aware from the beginning that this wasn´t going to be an easy thing. But you had to make money, otherwise, you would end up on the street. You sold a lot of your jewelry, yet you didn't get enough money for it. You would be able to pay your rent at the hotel for several weeks, but you also needed food and clothing. And owning a horse would certainly not be the stupidest idea. Now you've been working in this saloon for a week, and you had to admit that it was very stressful. You had already heard some insults, but you ignored them. Nobody would get you down so easily.

You were about to set five glasses of whiskey on your platter when one of the women, who worked in this Saloon, came to you. "Honey, there's a creepy bastard who's been staring at you for hours!" You looked at Scarlett's serious expression. "Uhm, which guy?" The young woman gestured to the man in the corner, who was enjoying his bottle of beer while he was watching you. "Oh, this guy." You noticed this guy a few days ago. He sat in this saloon almost every night. "Ignore him. He´s almost every night here!", you said as you reached for a bottle of beer, to put it on the platter as well. He was an attractive man, you had to admit that, but you didn't like the glances he gave you. He looked at you as if you were an object. "I'm serious, Y/N. I don't like him. I'll take you to the hotel after work." You had to smile when Scarlet said that. Most of the women who worked in this Saloon were very kind to you. "Scarlett, it's okay. I can take care of myself." "I insist!" You sighed, knowing that you couldn't change Scarlett's mind. She was damn stubborn, but it was also cute of her to care about you. Finally, you nodded. "Okay. Thank you." "Sure thing, honey!" With that, Scarlett walked away, and you glanced at the strange guest. This one was still staring at you, but he didn't show any facial expressions. He seemed numb, his eyes cold as ice. They were deep blue, beautiful... but they made you shiver. You took your glance off him to devote yourself to your work. Perhaps Scarlett had a good instinct, and it is certainly not the stupidest idea, that she would take you to the hotel later.

Fortunately, this man left before your work ended. So, you decided to walk home alone. With a smile, you assured Scarlett that you would be okay. "Okay, then. I see you tomorrow." "Bye, Y/N." After your friend said goodbye to you, you entered the Hotel, and you went straight to your room to rest after this stressful day...

(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´

Blackwater - three days later

"Ah, Mister Milton! What can I do for you?" "I came to pay my debts, Sir!" After almost one year, John had finally managed to pay for his property. This debt was a heavy burden for him, and he was glad, that this would finally come to an end. John put all the money on the desk of the friendly man, who had given him the loan for the property. He had always been very pleased with John's punctual payments. "250 Dollar, Sir!" "Perfect, my boy!" The man picked up the money and counted it again. After doing this, he gave John a satisfied smile. "Well then, Mister Milton! Your debts have been canceled." "Thank you, Sir!" John was overjoyed that he was finally out of debt. It was a good feeling, and after a long time, he would be able to sleep in peace. He left the building as a happy man, and suddenly, he got very hungry! It's been a long time since he had a decent meal. Maybe he should reward himself for the hard work of the past few months! A delicious steak with potatoes and green beans? God yes! His stomach started to growl at the thought of a tasty meal, and he immediately went into the Saloon. Blackwater had a lot to offer. A town with everything that people need. Tailor, barber, saloon, restaurant, theater, and much more. It's a shame that he had to avoid this place for so many years. But now, that he was back in West Elisabeth, he could move through Blackwater undisturbed. Nobody knew him. He was a stranger to the inhabitants of this city. He had appeared out of nowhere. But that was a good thing. He didn't want anyone to know about him. He was fed up by problems with the law. After all, the young man tried to live an honest life. But sometimes, he felt pretty lonely. He had to admit that he misses a woman's touch very much. Now that he was living a peaceful life, he longed for a woman to share his life with...

(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´(¸.•´ (¸.•´ .•´

The coming days were very calm in Valentine. Not many visitors came to the saloon as usual, so you weren't under a lot of pressure. You were thinking about working overtime this night, to earn more money. You had seriously considered getting a revolver, but weapons were very expensive. Apart from that, you also need money for other things. "You are doing your job very well, Y/N!" The bartender, who was also your boss, was very pleased with your effort. When you came to his saloon a few weeks ago to ask him for a job, he hadn't believed you would be able to do it. But you were a strong woman, didn´t let outrageous guests get you down. "Thank you very much, Mister Jones!" "But what brings you here? To Valentine?" "It's a long story, Sir. But the main point is that I had to take charge of my own life!" The bartender smiled charmingly, nodded. He understood. You didn't need to say more. "I understand." "Mister Jones? I´d like to work overtime tonight." "Hm? Why?" Mister Jones took one of the wet glasses to polish them, looking at you questioningly. "Well, I was hoping you could pay me those extra hours?" He nodded to you, and you were surprised that he agreed with you without contradiction. "But don't overwork yourself! I don't want you to faint from exhaustion!" "Thank you, Sir!"

The later it got, the more people came into the saloon. Some of them were already heavily drunk, but that was no reason for you to get nervous. As said before, you were used to insulting men. You didn't care because, in the end, you just did your job. And as soon as any man got the idea to touch you, your boss intervened to help you out of that misery. But that wasn't the evil that was going to happen to you tonight. The danger came in the form of roars, and gunshots that were suddenly heard all over the town. Many of the guests looked at each other questioningly, and you also wondered what the hell was going on out there. Suddenly, panicked screams came from men and women on the streets. Fear seized you, not knowing what to do in such a situation. You looked at your boss. This one told you that you need to stay calm. Abruptly, it became very quiet in the saloon. People whispered to each other. The curious among them looked outside to see what was happening out there. "HOLY GOD!" "There are corpses on the street!" When you heard that, your face went pale. With a panicked expression on your face, you hurried behind the counter to your boss. "Calm down, Y/N." "What's going on out there, Mister Jones?!" "I don't know, Y/N! But try to stay calm!" Without warning, the men who were standing at the entrance to the saloon got shot. Cold-blooded. Their bodies fell to the ground. People screamed in shock, including you. Then, six men entered this building. Immediately, you recognized the man with the ice-cold look. It was the same man Scarlett had warned you of a few days ago. He seemed numb as always. Some of his men had a smug, even malicious grin on their mouths.

Nobody dared to say a word. The eyes of the unknown men who had just entered the saloon, stared greedily at the ladies of the house, including you, of course. The gang chose a  table by the window, where poker was usually played, and pushing away the people who were sitting there. They grabbed them by the collar, threw them on the floor, and laughed cheerfully. Your boss, Mister Jones, was more than disgusted by these men, but he knew that every wrong word could mean death to him. "Get out with the other girls. Immediately." "What about you, Mister Jones?" "Don´t worry. Our sheriff will be here right away. He couldn't have missed this noise!" You nodded, just about to follow your boss's instructions, but you were stopped. "Stop! Nobody leaves this saloon!" The man with the ice-cold look glanced at you, and you looked at your boss, not knowing what to do now. "Y/N, leave this saloon." "HEY! Didn't you understand what our boss said?!" One of the bandits pulled out his revolver, his eyes scowled, his jaws pressed tightly together. You stopped, don't dare to move. What were these guys up to? Psycho games with people? "This is a robbery, folks! What do you think we're here for?"

When you heard the word robbery, you felt sick. Your stomach contracted painfully because it reminds you of the encounter you had eight years ago. Back then, everything was taken from you by two men, and now these bandits wanted to do the same again. "I´ll give you all my money!" Your boss opened the cash register, took out all the money, and placed it on the counter. But the leader of this mysterious gang wasn´t satisfied with that. "Not bad for a start. Whiskey for me and my boys!" His men cheered, while the rest of the guests in this saloon watched this situation with caution and fear. "Boys, choose one of these whores! You all need some fun!" "Oh, I already know who I want!" One of the gang members looked at you greedily, licking his lips and showing you his scruffy, broken teeth. You grimaced in disgust, you would never give yourself to this guy. "No, Sam. Don´t touch that girl!" The man with the ice-cold looked at you without emotion. But he knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted you. You swallowed nervously, not knowing what to expect tonight. But one thing was certain: You would defend yourself from these men. Thank god you had a knife hidden under your clothes.

"Hey! Come on, honey! Whiskey! Quickly!" All eyes were on, which made you very nervous. You hesitated but finally moved to get the alcohol. But you didn't get very far. The next moment, the sheriff entered the saloon with his men - heavily armed. "Well, look over there! Sheriff Malloy!" "Arrest those bastards!" And then everything went quickly - A shootout, loud, panicked screams and ultimately corpses. You hid behind the counter, covered your ears, and hoped none of the flying bullets would hit you. Your boss gripped your arm tightly, looking at you with a serious expression. "We have to get out of here! Come with me!" He pulled you with him, tried to get you out of the saloon through the back door, but you were stopped. "She won't go anywhere!" The cold-eyed man shot Mister Jones down, and you screamed in fear when this man fell to the ground, seriously injured. "NOO!" This man hadn't deserved this, and you felt how anger overcome you. When the outlaw grabbed your arm, you shouted at him, scolded him, but he didn't care. "You dirty son of a bitch! GO TO HELL!"

But he threw you over his shoulder and went with you to the stairs since he had planned to take you to one of the rooms to have fun with you. The women watched in horror as you were abducted against your will. He kicked the door open with his foot, then threw you on the bed, already opening his belt as he approached you. With great fear in your eyes, you look up at him, slide away from him. "You pig! Don't touch me!" But this man neither listened to you nor did he care what you had to say. He looked at you with hungry eyes, running the tip of his tongue over his lips to show how deeply aroused he already was. He put his gun belt aside as he stood in front of the bed, and examined you as if you were nothing more than an object. "We'll have some fun!" Then, he leaned over you, pressed you with all his weight on the mattress, whereupon you tried to push him away from you. "NOOO! GET OFF ME!" You felt how he reached under your skirt, pushing it over your legs. You only had one chance, and you had to take it without hesitation. You grabbed the little dagger that you had strapped to your thigh and slammed it directly into his neck. Blood spurted instantly from his injury, stained your face and hand. He looked at you with his eyes wide open, and you whimper terribly, not believing that you had just injured someone in that way. But what choice did you had? You had to do this, otherwise, he would have raped you. You pulled the knife out of its neck, spilling more blood, but you didn't care. You gathered all your strength to push him away from you, which you succeeded in doing. You had seriously hurt your tormentor.

He didn't stop bleeding. He gasped and coughed. You had to watch this man slowly bleed to death in front of you. Blood flowed from his mouth, which you couldn't endure seeing. Your eyes filled with tears, your hands trembled terribly as you looked at them. They were smeared with blood, and you couldn't believe what you had done. "Oh my god... oh god..." A loud shot brought you back to reality, finally realizing, that you had to get out of here as quickly as possible. If his men found him dead, you didn't want to be here. They will kill you! You grabbed his revolver, which he had put on the bedside table, and you ran out of the room. You stopped in front of the stairs to look around. You couldn't go back down to the men who were about to kill each other. What should you do now? The panic was written on your face, your chest rose and fell in a fast rhythm, sweat ran down your temple. "Hey! Is the boss done with you already?" You froze when you heard the voice of a strange man who had just come up the stairs. You looked at him with a frightened expression on your face as he approached you with a grin. But that grin vanished when he saw the blood on your hands and your face, the bloodstained knife in your hand. "What have you done, you little whore?!" He hurried past you, and you knew that was your chance to escape! You didn't hesitate for a moment but ran for your life. You opened the window to climb through it. When you tried to climb down the roof, you slipped. "Ahhh!" Fortunately, you hadn't seriously injured yourself after falling into the muddy ground.

You had to find a way to get out of here very quickly! You looked around, seeing corpses on the ground, and you wept for the innocent people who lay dead in the mud. A young woman had also been there, which deeply hurt your soul. But you didn't have the time to feel sorry for these people. You had to think about your survival! You ran as fast as you could, down the street to the post office, which was also the train station. When you saw the horses tied up in front of that building, you didn't hesitate to steal one. Of course, your theft didn´t go unnoticed. The gunfight in the saloon had been heard all over the town, as well as the cries for help from the citizens. Many curious, but also frightened people, were gathered at the station. However, stealing a horse didn't seem to bother these people. The true sin was committed in the town, and you just wanted to get out of Valentine. Except for ten dollars and two weapons, you had nothing left. You couldn't risk that your tormentor's men would grab, and eventually, torture you. Once again you had to leave everything behind...

A few days later...

You were visibly exhausted after your arrival in Blackwater. It was a long way to get here, and you rode through without a break. The fear of being persecuted had made you do this. Blackwater was a beautiful town, but you couldn't afford to stay here. For the next three days, you rented a room, so you didn't have to sleep on the street. But three days would pass soon. And then? Then what are you going to do? Your eyes were filled with sorrow and grief as you looked out the window. It was raining heavily, a thunderstorm announced quietly. You hoped and prayed that there would be a chance to find a job in this town. But you still had to process what happened. You couldn't believe you killed someone. You kept thinking about this terrible situation, and it frightened you. You had just stabbed him, and he was choked before your eyes. "Oh, my dear god..." Again and again, you had to tell yourself that it was self-defense and that you would never be able to kill someone. With a heavy sigh, you lay down in bed, tried to calm down, but like the last few days, you wouldn´t find a wave of peace tonight...

The coming weeks weren't going to be any easier for you. You were out of luck finding a job. You couldn´t longer afford to rent a room, not even in the shabbiest accommodation in this town. You couldn't even buy something to eat, and you didn't want to beg people on the street for money. After all, you still had dignity. In the end, you were forced to leave the city and had to move to an abandoned old hut. It was shabby, but it protected you from storm and rain at night. You also felt safer when you didn't have to sleep on the street. But you also knew that this wasn't life, but you didn't want to go back to Saint-Denis. Especially since your uncle and aunt weren´t interested in you. What should you do now? It was damn hard to live like this. Without money, without food. A few days ago, you committed theft for the first time in your life and you were deeply ashamed of yourself. You had been hungry, hadn´t eaten for two days and there was an opportunity in the market to steal food. "I can't live like this..." Sighing heavily, you leaned your head against the wall behind you and closed your tired eyes. You thought about how much your life had changed in the past few weeks. No, in the past few years. Since the death of your parents, you've felt like bad luck has been chasing you.

If only you had your mother's ring with you, it would give you comfort, but it was stolen from you. Then, out of nowhere, a thought came to you. But this thought could get you into serious trouble. Raiding passengers on a train was a damn bad idea of yours. But did you still have something to lose? There was nobody to care for your wellbeing. So? You would do it ...

[wineanddinosaur]

VinePair Podcast: Can Small Towns Save Sommeliers and Bartenders?

The shake-up of the restaurant and bar industry caused by Covid-19 has, without a doubt, had a sizable impact on the entire service sector. When dining and drinking out recovers, there will certainly be demand for cooks and servers, but what about beverage specialists like sommeliers and bartenders? Will changing conditions in big cities create incentives for drinks pros to move to smaller cities and towns?

That’s what Adam Teeter and Zach Geballe discuss on this week’s “VinePair Podcast.” Are some of the advantages of a smaller city — like cheaper rent and less competition — compelling enough to create an exodus? Are some of our ideas about larger and smaller markets outdated in this era of remote work and video conferencing? Will this be yet another way in which Covid-19 completely reshapes the drinks landscape?

Listen Online

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Or Check out the conversation here

Adam: From Brooklyn, New York, I’m Adam Teeter.

Zach: And in Seattle, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe.

A: And this is the “VinePairPodcast.” And Zach, man, what’s going on? What you’ve been up to? I mean, you’ve got like three days left. I mean, Dry January is going to be over. So what are you going to be drinking? Because you said that what you liked about Dry January is you get to plan. So I’d like to know your plan.

Z: I know, it’s true. It’s one of these funny things, so just because of how the calendar falls, the first day of February — when you all presumably or many of you are listening to this — is a Monday. And so it’s not like the most exciting day to be like, let’s have a drink. I think, honestly, the thing that I’ve craved the most and it’s sort of surprised me is, I really think, I got some darker beers from a brewery near our house that were like a special run. And my wife and I got them during January, we’ve been kind of holding on. So I have a hazelnut stout, which sounded appealing to both of us. So that’s kind of been the thing I’ve been most jonesing for. And that’s kind of a good “I’m going to have a drink on Monday night. I’m not going to have several.”

A: Yeah.

Z: But really, I think the two things beyond that that I’ve been missing, definitely gonna have some sparkling wine of some sort. Knowing me, probably Champagne.

A: Yeah.

Z: And then I’ve really also been missing gin. I didn’t think that would be the spirit that I’d be missing, but so, I don’t know, maybe I will make myself a gin and tonic. Honestly it’s been the drink that I’ve been sort of craving, in part because I’ve been drinking some just plain tonic water on occasion. So which is like, I like tonic water all right. But man, that is a big-a** let down.

A: Yeah.

Z: It’s not the same as drinking a gin and tonic. I am well aware. So yeah, these last couple of days there’s always that, like, sort of voice in the back of my head that’s like, “It’s basically February. You can have a drink, it’s OK. ” And it’s like, I’m just going to hold on, and then I feel like I’ve completed something, but yeah. What have you been drinking?

A: So I mean, Naomi and I actually did this really fun thing last night where we had dinner and then at the end of dinner we had a glass each of Scotch. Which was nice, we didn’t have any through dinner and whatever, then in the late evening, we had a glass of Scotch while we watched a television show so it was sort of like our treat that was almost like a dessert. And I really liked that. It was a GlenDronach, which is a Tim McKirdy favorite.

Z: Oh, really?

A: Yeah. And it was really good. It was very delicious. And it was a nice way to end the evening. And so that’s probably the most memorable thing that I’ve had recently. And it was also nice because I’ve been drinking a lot of bourbon, and I forgot how nice Scotch is, especially in the late evening. I find that I can’t drink bourbon after a meal. I can have a glass of bourbon on a Friday night instead of a cocktail. I’d have a glass of bourbon, and then I’ll have dinner and maybe a bottle of wine with Naomi, but I’m not going to have a bottle of wine and then be like, “You know what I want? Is a dram of bourbon.” I feel like to me I can’t do it. But the Scotch was nice. I feel like it’s just like that lighter whiskey, not as light as an Irish whiskey, but it was a lighter whiskey that just is very, very drinkable. And so that was nice. Yeah, besides that, man, not much. Who knows what I’ll get into this weekend, but no real plans. It’s also supposed to be the coldest weekend of the year. We’re at that point in January when we get a few of these days where it’s just unbearable. And I think we’re there. And it’s pretty funny, too, to pick on Tim McKirdy one more time.

Z: Why not?

Z: Why not?

A: Yeah, he’s down in the Caribbean right now visiting family. And he’s like, “I fly back on Saturday.” I was thinking to myself, man, I would just have been like, “We’re all working remote. Can I stay until this crazy cold front is through?” Because it’s going to be insane. Even today, I think the high is like 28 or something. It’s no fun. So who knows? I’m actually thinking more, too, about like, OK, I’m going to have to go to the grocery store maybe tomorrow morning before work. What do I want to get for the weekend in terms of dinners and stuff that are also kind of warming and comforting because it’s going to be miserable, I think.

Z: Yeah, I would say that is one of the things about this year of quarantining that is like, it does make it a lot easier when the weather sucks to be like, “Well, I wasn’t going to do anything anyhow,” at least for me. The downside is, it does on the flip side make that bad weather feel maybe more oppressive because you’re like, “Even if I were to brave the cold, what exactly would I be braving it for?” I like to avoid all people. I wanted to mention one thing also when we were talking about drinking, because I thought it was really interesting to me to think about this in the context of this period of time in the winter where for much of the U.S., it’s cold out, and people are eating and drinking. If they’re doing it, a lot of them are doing it outside, even if it’s not very pleasant. And I was wondering, I know you had mentioned that you were meeting Mary Taylor for beers on our last episode. What was it like to sit outside and drink a beer in what I’m assuming was not nice weather?

A: Oh, let me tell you two stories, Zach, now that you asked. So one, Mary Taylor, it wasn’t that bad actually, because it was like one of these more temperate nights. And also we just had like two beers. And so I wasn’t there for that long. So earlier this week, Monday, actually, so I guess a week from when people are going to listen to this podcast, I have a friend who sits on our advisory board. He’s become a friend, but he is an adviser. His name is Philippe Newlin. And he actually runs this company called IvyWine, which is really amazing. He used to also run Duclot. So they import Pétrus.

Z: We’ve had Felipe on the podcast, too. You only hang out with people who have already been on the podcast.

A: Oh, right. Yes. If you wanna be my friend, come on the podcast.

Z: Except me, right?

A: Yeah. You’re not my friend. No, Zach. You’re my friend. Come on. I don’t want to get that message to people.

Z: I know. I know.

A: But also I like how you kind of dug for the compliment there. That was really good. But so he was like, “Can we get breakfast? I want to tell you about some cool stuff I’m doing,” which he’s doing some super-cool stuff. So Philippe basically, in addition to — and I’m going into way too much information about him — but he teaches this very popular wine class to students at Columbia Business School and Yale Law School or maybe Yale Business School. And it’s super popular. You take it one of the years you’re in school. It’s considered extracurricular, but it’s only available to people who are students of these schools. And he’s been doing it for 10 or 15 years, I think. And he has this massive following. So anyways, he’s been still doing it through Covid remotely, just like every other professor has been teaching remotely. But, Philippe’s eight courses are on wine, which I think is awesome. And so he wanted to catch up about that and talk about some other things he was up to. And he was like, “Can we meet for breakfast?” And I was like, “Sure.” And we met in Lower Manhattan. And it was miserable. I mean, I put on long underwear. I joked with him, it was like I was getting ready to go skiing. But I’m from the South and don’t ski. I don’t do these things. I don’t do these crazy winter sports where you have to wear 50 flayers, and you’re like, “Yeah, but I’m outside it’s the best!” It was fine for the 15 minutes that I had my cappuccino, and then it became really miserable really fast. And they had heaters and stuff, and I felt really bad for these restaurant workers, and it was this place called Dudley’s which, actually, they claim to have introduced the avocado toast to New York City. It’s these Australian, I think they’re from Melbourne, it’s like an Aussie all-day cafe. And there were other people there. I think it’s been featured in shows or whatever. We picked it because it was equidistant to where we were both coming from. And they have a really safe outdoor setup. That’s the other thing, too, that you have to check for. What feels safe. There’s a lot of it in the city we talked about before, like outdoor indoor dining, where it’s like literally they have four walls and a door, and it just happens to be outside. It’s like, “So this actually looks smaller than if I were to eat inside your restaurant? This doesn’t feel safe.” But this is open, but that “openness” means it’s miserable. So it’s hard, man. And yeah, this weekend I think is going to hurt a lot of places because it’s going to be so cold. Who’s going to do that?

Z: Yeah, I don’t know.

A: It’s not easy. It’s not easy. I’m just ready for a crowded, warm bar in the winter. That’s always a fun time.

Z: The thing where you step inside and suddenly you’re wearing your winter coat and all that, and all of a sudden you’re like, “Oh, it is like 80 degrees in here, and I have to shed all of my clothing as fast as possible.”

A: Yeah. And the only thing that sucks about that, right?

Z: Is the smell?

A: If you go to a really crowded bar, your jacket always winds up on the floor.

Z: Yeah.

A: It always winds up on the floor in a crowded bar when it’s that warm inside and the floor is sticky and you’re like, “Oh man, now my nice winter coat is on the floor of this bar.”

Z: I used to be the person who never understood why coat checks existed in places. Not so much in bars, occasionally clubs, etc. And now as an actual adult, I’m like, “Oh, I would gladly pay 5 bucks to make sure that no one stepped on my coat.”

A: Exactly, right? It’s like, no, I’m going to keep this and just risk it being covered in spilled beer later. But so speaking of restaurants, etc., we have a pretty fun topic today. You want to introduce it? Because the email that came from the listener came through and was addressed to you.

Z: It’s true. Yeah. So we got an email from a listener. And as a reminder, of course, if you guys want to reach out to us with comments, questions, or possible topics, it’s podcast@vinepair.com. And John, who wrote to us, thank you so much for your email. And he kind of had a long email that was in part in response to an article I wrote for VinePair, or an essay, I guess, I wrote a couple of weeks ago, pondering the future specifically of the sommelier profession. And he wrote, and John is based in Blacksburg, Va. He works at Virginia Tech and also owns a wine bar there. And he was writing asking a question about basically — maybe in particular in light of what’s happened to the industry through Covid — is there the possibility that sommeliers, as he asked and I would expand this to maybe be “beverage professionals” more generally, so your skilled bartenders, your cicerones, people of that ilk who are specialized beverage professionals within the larger restaurant/bar industry. Would they be tempted to move or interested in moving to smaller markets that might not have a person of their standing already or might not have many? And sort of trading in the density and the “glamour,” I guess you would say, of big-city living for smaller cities, towns, college towns like Blacksburg, places like that. And I thought this was a fascinating question. I wrote back to John and we’ll cover kind of some of what I said. But I would really love to start with your thoughts, Adam. You’re connected to a lot of the industry, as am I. And I’m wondering, have you heard any sort of rumblings along these lines from people — whether they’re, specifically the sommeliers, bartenders I spoke of, or maybe just beverage industry pros, period?

A: So I think two things. One, I’m from a small town, too. A small college town. So I think, I used to always have this perspective that obviously that’s why you left those places. That’s why I didn’t even want to go to college in the university town I was from, even though I love the sports team — War Damn Eagle. But, I wanted to go to Atlanta and go to school at Emory, and then, same exact story, you wanted to go to NYU, right? Like this “being in a city” and whatever. I do think, though, there are people doing it. And I think what’s interesting about what you said to John that resonated with me in your response, because you CC’d me, which was very nice of you, was I don’t see a lot of people moving to these towns. And look, it’s going to have to start to happen if more people move, but I don’t see people in many of these towns looking for jobs. In like the, “I’m going to move to a college town where a wine bar already exists and try to become their beverage director.” And I think you had a good point about that, which was because if you get there and you don’t like that place, then there’s not another place for you to move to, if that’s the only great wine bar that caused you to move there in the first place. What I do see some of, and I think we might see more of, is people moving and opening their own places. I mean, yes, rent is going to be cheap in New York, relatively, when Covid is over there are people getting “steals.” But you’re never going to beat the rent of smaller towns. I mean, to put this in perspective. This has nothing to do with bars, but this is just friends of mine I know who are looking to potentially open a brewery. They’re connected or were connected to a very large, very famous brewery in New York City. They’ve gone out on their own. And they were looking in a small town in the Hudson Valley, and they found this property that was, like, it’s two buildings. It’s on a river. It has an apartment in one of the buildings that you can use. You can furnish it but it’s fully updated. It’s like this old tanning factory or something. Do you know what the rent is for a month?

Z: I’m guessing. I’m guessing it’s — I don’t know. You tell me.

A: $5,000.

Z: Wow.

A: Right? Like you can’t find a tiny office in Manhattan for $5,000 that’s a thousand square feet. So I think there are opportunities to move to these towns. And as other people in the Hudson Valley on the brewery side have noticed, people will also come to those destinations. And I think especially when it’s smaller, when small towns are connected to colleges, as you mentioned in your article, right? There are additional economic drivers that help. There are huge football games. There are basketball games. There’s usually university theaters that bring people into the town in addition to just a town that has a group of people in it that are, I don’t want to say “intelligentsia” like an elitist. But, they all would be looking for a nice wine bar to meet up with their grad students. I mean, I think that was my dad’s biggest thing when he was a professor, he just retired. But there were no really great bars to meet your students, your adult students at. Right? Because you either were at a point when I was growing up and he was really pushing as having lots of grad students where, like you were either going to wind up at the bars where all your undergrad students were at — and you don’t want to ever be there. Or you were basically having a beer with your student in your office. Or you’re inviting them into your home. There weren’t any “adult places.” And that’s what I thought was so cool about what John said in his emails was, he was like, this wine bar he’s created is for the professors. It’s for the adults in town. But then there are students who want to learn about wine who are of age, seniors or whatever, who are now coming to his wine bar, too. So you definitely are hearing about it. There’s another really great bar called Law Bird in Columbus, Ohio. Yes. I also get that Columbus is a bigger city, but it’s really known for the university.

Z: Yeah, of course.

A: Law Bird is amazing. And it’s done really well and winning a lot of awards on the mixology front. And I think there are people around the country that are really starved for these places. And as we’ve become more connected, we’re seeing what we can have. We’re traveling to New York and we’re experiencing it or maybe we’re living in a city like New York or Atlanta or whatever for a few years and having a great experience going out to wine bars or cocktail bars and then going to these smaller towns. We want that still. And I think there’s a huge opportunity. But I definitely think it’s an opportunity more in ownership, right? Than in people saying that they’ll move for something that already exists unless two or three people go and open their own places. And then there’s enough that you could move around a little bit.

Z: Yeah, I think it’s really fascinating. One of the things you and I talked about way back in the early days of this podcast, we talked a little about some of these same issues. And there I think it was a much more hypothetical conversation because we didn’t have this massive change and blow to the industry that Covid has provided. That is going to be a real prompt for a lot of change if it hasn’t already done that. And then we were talking a lot about how — maybe we weren’t talking about college towns exactly. We were talking about, sort of second- and third-rung cities. Places like Atlanta, places like Pittsburgh, maybe you would say Austin or Omaha, those are all different in various ways. And I still think that that whole piece of what we’ve talked about is really true and that there’s a lot, and I think one thing you will see is definitely people will be challenged to find jobs of the kind that they’re used to in New York, in San Francisco, in Las Vegas, possibly even, moving to smaller cities. But I think, and to come back to this specific topic, what I hadn’t considered, but until John’s email and thinking more about it, was that really, for a lot of people, the potential is going to be to build something of their own or maybe with an existing property where the ownership is willing to really kind of invest in this idea and say, “Look, yeah, we might be in Boise or we might be in Blacksburg, we might be in,” you know, pick one of our hundred. “And we know that there is an audience here.” And yes, the audience is a fraction of the possible audience for something in New York or San Francisco. But we also know that there’s no competition. We have a captive audience in a lot of ways and more than ever before, people in those places are not interested exclusively in the limited selection and arguably limited quality that their options would have provided. And we’ve talked a lot on this podcast, both in terms of the flagship pod and the “Next Round” episodes, to and about challenges in getting products to people who are not in big cities. Right? People who are just as enthusiastic of a spirit drinker, beer drinker, wine drinker who want to drink the things that they hear about, that they read about, that they see things about on social media and don’t have a conduit because they don’t have a good wine shop in their hometown or a wine bar in their hometown. And online shipping is maybe becoming more of a thing, but still not robust enough for a lot of people, and the idea of going into one of those places is really, I think, exciting, because, again, like I said, there’s not the same level of competition. And because — I’ll say this from my own perspective even — one thing that became a little hard in what I was doing professionally in Seattle, and I think is even more so the case in possibly somewhere like New York, is that to be sort of “cutting edge” you suddenly are at a point where you are encouraging people and recommending to people these really obscure wines. And that doesn’t mean they’re not amazing. Sometimes they’re fantastic, but it does sometimes take you pretty far afield. It took me pretty far afield sometimes from what I really fell in love with about wine. And it was much more about, OK, well, how obscure of a wine — specifically, because, again, that’s where I’ve mostly worked — how obscure a wine could I procure? And at some point is that really the thing? But in a smaller market, you might be able to. I’m not saying you’re going to be like, have you ever heard of Burgundy? I mean, maybe that will be your role, but it’s more like you can still probably excite people with really, really amazing wines that still come from classic regions. You can probably turn people on to great producers in Burgundy or Barolo or the Sonoma Valley or whatever. Those things are not going to be as ubiquitous or seen as passé, almost, in a market that isn’t inundated with wine bars and shops or cocktail bars or whatever. You can work in this great area where you’re not necessarily selling the stuff that everyone knows, but you’re also not having to kind of strain at the borders of what is even available to excite people, I don’t think.

A: Yeah, I think you’re really right here. You’re spot on. And, I was realizing while you were talking is what we’re talking about, it’s not like it hasn’t been done before. Yeah. OK fine, I gave some examples like other wine bars and bars I know of of the few, but chefs have been doing this for years.

Z: Yeah, absolutely.

A: I mean, chefs have been doing this for years. I mean, that’s what is interesting about Auburn now. For the last I think six or seven years even longer, what’s considered to be one of the best restaurants in the state of Alabama and I think in the southeast is called Acre, and it’s in Auburn. The chef left, I think he was either in Atlanta or in New Orleans and moved back. And has this incredible farm-to-table restaurant. Now, I don’t remember any time I’ve been there there being a beverage director. But that might be because he can’t find someone, right? I’m not really sure. But chefs have been doing it forever. I mean, that’s what kind of helped reinvigorate the Hudson Valley was all of these incredible chefs that were leaving the West Village in Brooklyn and whatever and saying, like, “Screw it, I’m going to move up there.” And then beverage people followed. So, there’s no reason why you can’t go that route and find a chef that’s doing that or just do it yourself. The models are there, the one thing I’m curious about, though, Zach, is the comment you did make in the email, which was, some people might be scared about being able to find the wines that they love in their current markets. And I get that, even if it’s something that either is not true. Right? Like maybe you can find them if you work hard enough or also that people just need to get over, like, “OK, so you can’t find your heavily allocated X, Y, or Z. But like, there’s so much good wine out there, why do you care?”

Z: Yeah, I remember years and years ago talking to a sommelier, a wine director, I guess, who was working in Charleston and then moved to North Carolina and was talking about how even just in that change, North Carolina is a pretty big population state, but it doesn’t have the equivalent of Charleston. Or I mean, Asheville is kind of a food destination, but it’s much smaller and it’s not, you know, it’s not coastal. It’s not kind of picturesque in the way that Charleston is. And what she told me, was like, “You know, the great thing about this is all the wine that I had to fight for in Charleston” because, South Carolina as a state or Charleston as a market got X amount of it. And North Carolina gets at least that much allocated by the importer or the distributor. But no one wants it, or there’s a few people maybe in the Research Triangle who want it. There’s a few markets for those kinds of wines. But she was able to go get what she wanted. And I think that to some extent where you go, that may or may not be the case. I mean, Virginia is complicated because obviously Virginia has some big cities and obviously a lot of sort of satellite D.C. neighborhoods that probably have serious wine programs or wine restaurant wine bars and shops. But at the same time, I think that, yes, you may not be able to get the exact wine you want. Although on the flip side, if you move to a place — especially a smaller city or town — and you open a serious wine shop and you show the distributor in that state, like, “Look, I can sell whatever. I want to get this, I’ll buy it.” They will take your money, generally. They’ll be happy to. Even if it’s something that they work with an importer who doesn’t normally bring that into their state. But you tell them, “Hey, look, I’ll buy two cases of this” or “I’ll buy five cases of this” or whatever the quantities you’re working on. They’re in it to do business. And so they will generally do business with you if they can. And a lot of those places would love, for a variety of reasons, those businesses would love to shift to buy higher-end wines, to sell them. It’s good for them on a lot of different levels. But the other thing I would say is — and this is the piece of it that I think I mentioned in my article — and I’m not sure how to resolve this because I do think there is a challenge to this, which is part of the reason why people have traditionally gravitated towards big markets in the beverage alcohol profession, is some of what we talked about, lots of different job opportunities. You have better access to product, but some of it is about a level of camaraderie and a community. And that, to me, is one of the things that I think is just a challenge. It’s not an insoluble one. And it’s certainly, there are some people in the beverage alcohol profession who, frankly, are not as interested in that community going forward or want to build it from scratch, themselves. Someone I spoke to for that article who I think we’ve featured on VinePair before, John Wabeck, who is a guy in Pittsburgh, a wine professional in Pittsburgh, and really kind of created the sommelier scene in Pittsburgh, not entirely by himself, but was really instrumental in creating it. You can be a person like that who says, “You know what, I don’t need an existing community. I will create one. I will find people who are interested in wine or cocktails. And I’ll teach them, I’ll learn from them, etc.” But there are a lot of people who come to big cities because they recognize that one of the best ways to learn about these things is to be in a community. And it’s hard to do that if you’re the expert. It’s nice to be the expert in some ways, but it’s hard to learn sometimes when you’re the expert. You have to be the engine of your own learning all the time. And unfortunately, the other piece of this is that, and we’ve talked about this on the podcast, too, especially outside of those regions, maybe even outside of the U.S. the perception of America as a market, especially for wine, but for other things, too, is still about, what, four or five, eight, 10 cities max? It’s a fight to get not just products, but people who are visiting winemakers and even whole promotional organizations and boards. If you’re in a smaller town, do you want to be having to go on the road, take a five-, six-, seven-hour drive just to be able to go taste wine, because the only city in your broad region that’s getting a visit from this Italian wine consortium or whatever is that far away? That’s a tough thing. I mean, again, I don’t think it’s insurmountable. I think there are some people who would look at that as an acceptable cost, but it is a real challenge for people, I think, especially younger professionals who might not be able to kind of be as self-confident in saying, “Hey, I’m going to just go build this thing from nothing.” Or flip side, maybe they’re just dumb enough to think they can and will succeed because that’s a lot of what life is is just trying s***.

A: Yep, I agree. I completely agree. I think there’s a lot of opportunity and there’s going to be some downsides, as you said. But also, I do wonder if how we’ve all become so digital in the last year might help with that somewhat. Could you still join a tasting group that is now digital and meet with people and keep your game up? Could you still join a group of bartenders who are learning skills on Zoom or things like that? So that yes, it’s a bummer. But I also think when certain markets do emerge, other places will follow. Right? I think other people will follow. People will start realizing all of a sudden that Blacksburg is a great place for wine because if one person is having a lot of success, someone else is going to open another place. That’s just how it works. When a market realizes that Italian food is the hot thing, more Italian restaurants open. And I think the same thing is true for this. It’s just people taking the leap. And I do think it’s really, really interesting to think about there being more people doing that in the next few years, post-Covid. I really do.

Z: I think the other piece of this that we can’t know now totally but is going to be interesting, is to what extent does the broader population say, “Maybe I don’t want to live in New York City?” I mean, we’ve talked about whether this whole “New York dying thing” is a myth or not. And obviously, New York is not dying. But I do think that there are some real questions as to whether, as maybe more work goes fully digital, as people reconsider what their priorities are, we may just see a little bit of a migration away from really big cities with crazy-expensive costs of living. And that might help foster some of this movement within the service sector. Because obviously, to some extent, the service sector is always going to follow people and the money. And if those kinds of people are moving — whether it’s to college towns or to just smaller communities or smaller cities — then yes, for sure, “tradespeople” will follow, too. And I think also, maybe something for us to talk about another time, I don’t think it’s going to fit into this conversation but makes it interesting for you and I and for everyone at VinePair to think about: How do you cover an industry that is maybe a little bit more dispersed? And I think we’ve always done a really good job of highlighting bars, restaurants, wine programs, etc. all over the country. But it is true that the more decentralized it becomes, the more kind of like, “Oh, how do we grapple with an industry where maybe the greatest wine bar in the country is actually in the 143rd largest community in the country? Like, that’s certainly possible, and that would be cool. But it also puts an additional kind of onus on us, which I mean, I’m interested in, but is kind of different than in an era when the only things that people seem to care about in wine were happening in five cities.

A: Yeah, I agree. I mean, look, I’d encourage people who are listening, if you have thought about it there’s definitely people who love wine, cocktails, great beer all over the country. And I think now more than ever, there’s a lot less risk to doing it. So, yeah, if you are thinking about it, drop us a line. Let us know if you’ve done it. I’d love to hear those stories, too. If you’re a listener and you’ve opened a cocktail bar, wine bar, craft beer bar, whatever in a smaller market, we would love to hear from you. I think it’d be cool to interview you for “Next Round” etc. and let other people hear what you’re up to. Because I think, again, like I said earlier, there’s going to be some really, really, really exciting things that happen and a lot more possibilities than they’re used to be.

Z: Yeah, for sure.

A: Zach, this has been great, as always. For everyone listening, drop us a note at podcast@vinepair.com. Let us know what you think about the show. Leave us a review wherever you get your podcasts. Five stars please, and we’ll see you next week.

Z: Sounds great.

Thanks so much for listening to the VinePair Podcast. If you enjoy listening to us every week, please leave us a review or rating on iTunes, Spotify, or wherever it is that you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show. Now for the credits. VinePair is produced by myself and Zach Geballe. It is also mixed and edited by him. Yeah, Zach, we know you do a lot. I’d also like to thank the entire VinePair team, including my co-founder, Josh, and our associate editor, Cat. Thanks so much for listening. See you next week.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article VinePair Podcast: Can Small Towns Save Sommeliers and Bartenders? appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/small-towns-sommeliers-bartenders/

[johnboothus]

VinePair Podcast: Can Small Towns Save Sommeliers and Bartenders?

The shake-up of the restaurant and bar industry caused by Covid-19 has, without a doubt, had a sizable impact on the entire service sector. When dining and drinking out recovers, there will certainly be demand for cooks and servers, but what about beverage specialists like sommeliers and bartenders? Will changing conditions in big cities create incentives for drinks pros to move to smaller cities and towns?

That’s what Adam Teeter and Zach Geballe discuss on this week’s “VinePair Podcast.” Are some of the advantages of a smaller city — like cheaper rent and less competition — compelling enough to create an exodus? Are some of our ideas about larger and smaller markets outdated in this era of remote work and video conferencing? Will this be yet another way in which Covid-19 completely reshapes the drinks landscape?

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Adam: From Brooklyn, New York, I’m Adam Teeter.

Zach: And in Seattle, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe.

A: And this is the “VinePairPodcast.” And Zach, man, what’s going on? What you’ve been up to? I mean, you’ve got like three days left. I mean, Dry January is going to be over. So what are you going to be drinking? Because you said that what you liked about Dry January is you get to plan. So I’d like to know your plan.

Z: I know, it’s true. It’s one of these funny things, so just because of how the calendar falls, the first day of February — when you all presumably or many of you are listening to this — is a Monday. And so it’s not like the most exciting day to be like, let’s have a drink. I think, honestly, the thing that I’ve craved the most and it’s sort of surprised me is, I really think, I got some darker beers from a brewery near our house that were like a special run. And my wife and I got them during January, we’ve been kind of holding on. So I have a hazelnut stout, which sounded appealing to both of us. So that’s kind of been the thing I’ve been most jonesing for. And that’s kind of a good “I’m going to have a drink on Monday night. I’m not going to have several.”

A: Yeah.

Z: But really, I think the two things beyond that that I’ve been missing, definitely gonna have some sparkling wine of some sort. Knowing me, probably Champagne.

A: Yeah.

Z: And then I’ve really also been missing gin. I didn’t think that would be the spirit that I’d be missing, but so, I don’t know, maybe I will make myself a gin and tonic. Honestly it’s been the drink that I’ve been sort of craving, in part because I’ve been drinking some just plain tonic water on occasion. So which is like, I like tonic water all right. But man, that is a big-a** let down.

A: Yeah.

Z: It’s not the same as drinking a gin and tonic. I am well aware. So yeah, these last couple of days there’s always that, like, sort of voice in the back of my head that’s like, “It’s basically February. You can have a drink, it’s OK. ” And it’s like, I’m just going to hold on, and then I feel like I’ve completed something, but yeah. What have you been drinking?

A: So I mean, Naomi and I actually did this really fun thing last night where we had dinner and then at the end of dinner we had a glass each of Scotch. Which was nice, we didn’t have any through dinner and whatever, then in the late evening, we had a glass of Scotch while we watched a television show so it was sort of like our treat that was almost like a dessert. And I really liked that. It was a GlenDronach, which is a Tim McKirdy favorite.

Z: Oh, really?

A: Yeah. And it was really good. It was very delicious. And it was a nice way to end the evening. And so that’s probably the most memorable thing that I’ve had recently. And it was also nice because I’ve been drinking a lot of bourbon, and I forgot how nice Scotch is, especially in the late evening. I find that I can’t drink bourbon after a meal. I can have a glass of bourbon on a Friday night instead of a cocktail. I’d have a glass of bourbon, and then I’ll have dinner and maybe a bottle of wine with Naomi, but I’m not going to have a bottle of wine and then be like, “You know what I want? Is a dram of bourbon.” I feel like to me I can’t do it. But the Scotch was nice. I feel like it’s just like that lighter whiskey, not as light as an Irish whiskey, but it was a lighter whiskey that just is very, very drinkable. And so that was nice. Yeah, besides that, man, not much. Who knows what I’ll get into this weekend, but no real plans. It’s also supposed to be the coldest weekend of the year. We’re at that point in January when we get a few of these days where it’s just unbearable. And I think we’re there. And it’s pretty funny, too, to pick on Tim McKirdy one more time.

Z: Why not?

Z: Why not?

A: Yeah, he’s down in the Caribbean right now visiting family. And he’s like, “I fly back on Saturday.” I was thinking to myself, man, I would just have been like, “We’re all working remote. Can I stay until this crazy cold front is through?” Because it’s going to be insane. Even today, I think the high is like 28 or something. It’s no fun. So who knows? I’m actually thinking more, too, about like, OK, I’m going to have to go to the grocery store maybe tomorrow morning before work. What do I want to get for the weekend in terms of dinners and stuff that are also kind of warming and comforting because it’s going to be miserable, I think.

Z: Yeah, I would say that is one of the things about this year of quarantining that is like, it does make it a lot easier when the weather sucks to be like, “Well, I wasn’t going to do anything anyhow,” at least for me. The downside is, it does on the flip side make that bad weather feel maybe more oppressive because you’re like, “Even if I were to brave the cold, what exactly would I be braving it for?” I like to avoid all people. I wanted to mention one thing also when we were talking about drinking, because I thought it was really interesting to me to think about this in the context of this period of time in the winter where for much of the U.S., it’s cold out, and people are eating and drinking. If they’re doing it, a lot of them are doing it outside, even if it’s not very pleasant. And I was wondering, I know you had mentioned that you were meeting Mary Taylor for beers on our last episode. What was it like to sit outside and drink a beer in what I’m assuming was not nice weather?

A: Oh, let me tell you two stories, Zach, now that you asked. So one, Mary Taylor, it wasn’t that bad actually, because it was like one of these more temperate nights. And also we just had like two beers. And so I wasn’t there for that long. So earlier this week, Monday, actually, so I guess a week from when people are going to listen to this podcast, I have a friend who sits on our advisory board. He’s become a friend, but he is an adviser. His name is Philippe Newlin. And he actually runs this company called IvyWine, which is really amazing. He used to also run Duclot. So they import Pétrus.

Z: We’ve had Felipe on the podcast, too. You only hang out with people who have already been on the podcast.

A: Oh, right. Yes. If you wanna be my friend, come on the podcast.

Z: Except me, right?

A: Yeah. You’re not my friend. No, Zach. You’re my friend. Come on. I don’t want to get that message to people.

Z: I know. I know.

A: But also I like how you kind of dug for the compliment there. That was really good. But so he was like, “Can we get breakfast? I want to tell you about some cool stuff I’m doing,” which he’s doing some super-cool stuff. So Philippe basically, in addition to — and I’m going into way too much information about him — but he teaches this very popular wine class to students at Columbia Business School and Yale Law School or maybe Yale Business School. And it’s super popular. You take it one of the years you’re in school. It’s considered extracurricular, but it’s only available to people who are students of these schools. And he’s been doing it for 10 or 15 years, I think. And he has this massive following. So anyways, he’s been still doing it through Covid remotely, just like every other professor has been teaching remotely. But, Philippe’s eight courses are on wine, which I think is awesome. And so he wanted to catch up about that and talk about some other things he was up to. And he was like, “Can we meet for breakfast?” And I was like, “Sure.” And we met in Lower Manhattan. And it was miserable. I mean, I put on long underwear. I joked with him, it was like I was getting ready to go skiing. But I’m from the South and don’t ski. I don’t do these things. I don’t do these crazy winter sports where you have to wear 50 flayers, and you’re like, “Yeah, but I’m outside it’s the best!” It was fine for the 15 minutes that I had my cappuccino, and then it became really miserable really fast. And they had heaters and stuff, and I felt really bad for these restaurant workers, and it was this place called Dudley’s which, actually, they claim to have introduced the avocado toast to New York City. It’s these Australian, I think they’re from Melbourne, it’s like an Aussie all-day cafe. And there were other people there. I think it’s been featured in shows or whatever. We picked it because it was equidistant to where we were both coming from. And they have a really safe outdoor setup. That’s the other thing, too, that you have to check for. What feels safe. There’s a lot of it in the city we talked about before, like outdoor indoor dining, where it’s like literally they have four walls and a door, and it just happens to be outside. It’s like, “So this actually looks smaller than if I were to eat inside your restaurant? This doesn’t feel safe.” But this is open, but that “openness” means it’s miserable. So it’s hard, man. And yeah, this weekend I think is going to hurt a lot of places because it’s going to be so cold. Who’s going to do that?

Z: Yeah, I don’t know.

A: It’s not easy. It’s not easy. I’m just ready for a crowded, warm bar in the winter. That’s always a fun time.

Z: The thing where you step inside and suddenly you’re wearing your winter coat and all that, and all of a sudden you’re like, “Oh, it is like 80 degrees in here, and I have to shed all of my clothing as fast as possible.”

A: Yeah. And the only thing that sucks about that, right?

Z: Is the smell?

A: If you go to a really crowded bar, your jacket always winds up on the floor.

Z: Yeah.

A: It always winds up on the floor in a crowded bar when it’s that warm inside and the floor is sticky and you’re like, “Oh man, now my nice winter coat is on the floor of this bar.”

Z: I used to be the person who never understood why coat checks existed in places. Not so much in bars, occasionally clubs, etc. And now as an actual adult, I’m like, “Oh, I would gladly pay 5 bucks to make sure that no one stepped on my coat.”

A: Exactly, right? It’s like, no, I’m going to keep this and just risk it being covered in spilled beer later. But so speaking of restaurants, etc., we have a pretty fun topic today. You want to introduce it? Because the email that came from the listener came through and was addressed to you.

Z: It’s true. Yeah. So we got an email from a listener. And as a reminder, of course, if you guys want to reach out to us with comments, questions, or possible topics, it’s podcast@vinepair.com. And John, who wrote to us, thank you so much for your email. And he kind of had a long email that was in part in response to an article I wrote for VinePair, or an essay, I guess, I wrote a couple of weeks ago, pondering the future specifically of the sommelier profession. And he wrote, and John is based in Blacksburg, Va. He works at Virginia Tech and also owns a wine bar there. And he was writing asking a question about basically — maybe in particular in light of what’s happened to the industry through Covid — is there the possibility that sommeliers, as he asked and I would expand this to maybe be “beverage professionals” more generally, so your skilled bartenders, your cicerones, people of that ilk who are specialized beverage professionals within the larger restaurant/bar industry. Would they be tempted to move or interested in moving to smaller markets that might not have a person of their standing already or might not have many? And sort of trading in the density and the “glamour,” I guess you would say, of big-city living for smaller cities, towns, college towns like Blacksburg, places like that. And I thought this was a fascinating question. I wrote back to John and we’ll cover kind of some of what I said. But I would really love to start with your thoughts, Adam. You’re connected to a lot of the industry, as am I. And I’m wondering, have you heard any sort of rumblings along these lines from people — whether they’re, specifically the sommeliers, bartenders I spoke of, or maybe just beverage industry pros, period?

A: So I think two things. One, I’m from a small town, too. A small college town. So I think, I used to always have this perspective that obviously that’s why you left those places. That’s why I didn’t even want to go to college in the university town I was from, even though I love the sports team — War Damn Eagle. But, I wanted to go to Atlanta and go to school at Emory, and then, same exact story, you wanted to go to NYU, right? Like this “being in a city” and whatever. I do think, though, there are people doing it. And I think what’s interesting about what you said to John that resonated with me in your response, because you CC’d me, which was very nice of you, was I don’t see a lot of people moving to these towns. And look, it’s going to have to start to happen if more people move, but I don’t see people in many of these towns looking for jobs. In like the, “I’m going to move to a college town where a wine bar already exists and try to become their beverage director.” And I think you had a good point about that, which was because if you get there and you don’t like that place, then there’s not another place for you to move to, if that’s the only great wine bar that caused you to move there in the first place. What I do see some of, and I think we might see more of, is people moving and opening their own places. I mean, yes, rent is going to be cheap in New York, relatively, when Covid is over there are people getting “steals.” But you’re never going to beat the rent of smaller towns. I mean, to put this in perspective. This has nothing to do with bars, but this is just friends of mine I know who are looking to potentially open a brewery. They’re connected or were connected to a very large, very famous brewery in New York City. They’ve gone out on their own. And they were looking in a small town in the Hudson Valley, and they found this property that was, like, it’s two buildings. It’s on a river. It has an apartment in one of the buildings that you can use. You can furnish it but it’s fully updated. It’s like this old tanning factory or something. Do you know what the rent is for a month?

Z: I’m guessing. I’m guessing it’s — I don’t know. You tell me.

A: $5,000.

Z: Wow.

A: Right? Like you can’t find a tiny office in Manhattan for $5,000 that’s a thousand square feet. So I think there are opportunities to move to these towns. And as other people in the Hudson Valley on the brewery side have noticed, people will also come to those destinations. And I think especially when it’s smaller, when small towns are connected to colleges, as you mentioned in your article, right? There are additional economic drivers that help. There are huge football games. There are basketball games. There’s usually university theaters that bring people into the town in addition to just a town that has a group of people in it that are, I don’t want to say “intelligentsia” like an elitist. But, they all would be looking for a nice wine bar to meet up with their grad students. I mean, I think that was my dad’s biggest thing when he was a professor, he just retired. But there were no really great bars to meet your students, your adult students at. Right? Because you either were at a point when I was growing up and he was really pushing as having lots of grad students where, like you were either going to wind up at the bars where all your undergrad students were at — and you don’t want to ever be there. Or you were basically having a beer with your student in your office. Or you’re inviting them into your home. There weren’t any “adult places.” And that’s what I thought was so cool about what John said in his emails was, he was like, this wine bar he’s created is for the professors. It’s for the adults in town. But then there are students who want to learn about wine who are of age, seniors or whatever, who are now coming to his wine bar, too. So you definitely are hearing about it. There’s another really great bar called Law Bird in Columbus, Ohio. Yes. I also get that Columbus is a bigger city, but it’s really known for the university.

Z: Yeah, of course.

A: Law Bird is amazing. And it’s done really well and winning a lot of awards on the mixology front. And I think there are people around the country that are really starved for these places. And as we’ve become more connected, we’re seeing what we can have. We’re traveling to New York and we’re experiencing it or maybe we’re living in a city like New York or Atlanta or whatever for a few years and having a great experience going out to wine bars or cocktail bars and then going to these smaller towns. We want that still. And I think there’s a huge opportunity. But I definitely think it’s an opportunity more in ownership, right? Than in people saying that they’ll move for something that already exists unless two or three people go and open their own places. And then there’s enough that you could move around a little bit.

Z: Yeah, I think it’s really fascinating. One of the things you and I talked about way back in the early days of this podcast, we talked a little about some of these same issues. And there I think it was a much more hypothetical conversation because we didn’t have this massive change and blow to the industry that Covid has provided. That is going to be a real prompt for a lot of change if it hasn’t already done that. And then we were talking a lot about how — maybe we weren’t talking about college towns exactly. We were talking about, sort of second- and third-rung cities. Places like Atlanta, places like Pittsburgh, maybe you would say Austin or Omaha, those are all different in various ways. And I still think that that whole piece of what we’ve talked about is really true and that there’s a lot, and I think one thing you will see is definitely people will be challenged to find jobs of the kind that they’re used to in New York, in San Francisco, in Las Vegas, possibly even, moving to smaller cities. But I think, and to come back to this specific topic, what I hadn’t considered, but until John’s email and thinking more about it, was that really, for a lot of people, the potential is going to be to build something of their own or maybe with an existing property where the ownership is willing to really kind of invest in this idea and say, “Look, yeah, we might be in Boise or we might be in Blacksburg, we might be in,” you know, pick one of our hundred. “And we know that there is an audience here.” And yes, the audience is a fraction of the possible audience for something in New York or San Francisco. But we also know that there’s no competition. We have a captive audience in a lot of ways and more than ever before, people in those places are not interested exclusively in the limited selection and arguably limited quality that their options would have provided. And we’ve talked a lot on this podcast, both in terms of the flagship pod and the “Next Round” episodes, to and about challenges in getting products to people who are not in big cities. Right? People who are just as enthusiastic of a spirit drinker, beer drinker, wine drinker who want to drink the things that they hear about, that they read about, that they see things about on social media and don’t have a conduit because they don’t have a good wine shop in their hometown or a wine bar in their hometown. And online shipping is maybe becoming more of a thing, but still not robust enough for a lot of people, and the idea of going into one of those places is really, I think, exciting, because, again, like I said, there’s not the same level of competition. And because — I’ll say this from my own perspective even — one thing that became a little hard in what I was doing professionally in Seattle, and I think is even more so the case in possibly somewhere like New York, is that to be sort of “cutting edge” you suddenly are at a point where you are encouraging people and recommending to people these really obscure wines. And that doesn’t mean they’re not amazing. Sometimes they’re fantastic, but it does sometimes take you pretty far afield. It took me pretty far afield sometimes from what I really fell in love with about wine. And it was much more about, OK, well, how obscure of a wine — specifically, because, again, that’s where I’ve mostly worked — how obscure a wine could I procure? And at some point is that really the thing? But in a smaller market, you might be able to. I’m not saying you’re going to be like, have you ever heard of Burgundy? I mean, maybe that will be your role, but it’s more like you can still probably excite people with really, really amazing wines that still come from classic regions. You can probably turn people on to great producers in Burgundy or Barolo or the Sonoma Valley or whatever. Those things are not going to be as ubiquitous or seen as passé, almost, in a market that isn’t inundated with wine bars and shops or cocktail bars or whatever. You can work in this great area where you’re not necessarily selling the stuff that everyone knows, but you’re also not having to kind of strain at the borders of what is even available to excite people, I don’t think.

A: Yeah, I think you’re really right here. You’re spot on. And, I was realizing while you were talking is what we’re talking about, it’s not like it hasn’t been done before. Yeah. OK fine, I gave some examples like other wine bars and bars I know of of the few, but chefs have been doing this for years.

Z: Yeah, absolutely.

A: I mean, chefs have been doing this for years. I mean, that’s what is interesting about Auburn now. For the last I think six or seven years even longer, what’s considered to be one of the best restaurants in the state of Alabama and I think in the southeast is called Acre, and it’s in Auburn. The chef left, I think he was either in Atlanta or in New Orleans and moved back. And has this incredible farm-to-table restaurant. Now, I don’t remember any time I’ve been there there being a beverage director. But that might be because he can’t find someone, right? I’m not really sure. But chefs have been doing it forever. I mean, that’s what kind of helped reinvigorate the Hudson Valley was all of these incredible chefs that were leaving the West Village in Brooklyn and whatever and saying, like, “Screw it, I’m going to move up there.” And then beverage people followed. So, there’s no reason why you can’t go that route and find a chef that’s doing that or just do it yourself. The models are there, the one thing I’m curious about, though, Zach, is the comment you did make in the email, which was, some people might be scared about being able to find the wines that they love in their current markets. And I get that, even if it’s something that either is not true. Right? Like maybe you can find them if you work hard enough or also that people just need to get over, like, “OK, so you can’t find your heavily allocated X, Y, or Z. But like, there’s so much good wine out there, why do you care?”

Z: Yeah, I remember years and years ago talking to a sommelier, a wine director, I guess, who was working in Charleston and then moved to North Carolina and was talking about how even just in that change, North Carolina is a pretty big population state, but it doesn’t have the equivalent of Charleston. Or I mean, Asheville is kind of a food destination, but it’s much smaller and it’s not, you know, it’s not coastal. It’s not kind of picturesque in the way that Charleston is. And what she told me, was like, “You know, the great thing about this is all the wine that I had to fight for in Charleston” because, South Carolina as a state or Charleston as a market got X amount of it. And North Carolina gets at least that much allocated by the importer or the distributor. But no one wants it, or there’s a few people maybe in the Research Triangle who want it. There’s a few markets for those kinds of wines. But she was able to go get what she wanted. And I think that to some extent where you go, that may or may not be the case. I mean, Virginia is complicated because obviously Virginia has some big cities and obviously a lot of sort of satellite D.C. neighborhoods that probably have serious wine programs or wine restaurant wine bars and shops. But at the same time, I think that, yes, you may not be able to get the exact wine you want. Although on the flip side, if you move to a place — especially a smaller city or town — and you open a serious wine shop and you show the distributor in that state, like, “Look, I can sell whatever. I want to get this, I’ll buy it.” They will take your money, generally. They’ll be happy to. Even if it’s something that they work with an importer who doesn’t normally bring that into their state. But you tell them, “Hey, look, I’ll buy two cases of this” or “I’ll buy five cases of this” or whatever the quantities you’re working on. They’re in it to do business. And so they will generally do business with you if they can. And a lot of those places would love, for a variety of reasons, those businesses would love to shift to buy higher-end wines, to sell them. It’s good for them on a lot of different levels. But the other thing I would say is — and this is the piece of it that I think I mentioned in my article — and I’m not sure how to resolve this because I do think there is a challenge to this, which is part of the reason why people have traditionally gravitated towards big markets in the beverage alcohol profession, is some of what we talked about, lots of different job opportunities. You have better access to product, but some of it is about a level of camaraderie and a community. And that, to me, is one of the things that I think is just a challenge. It’s not an insoluble one. And it’s certainly, there are some people in the beverage alcohol profession who, frankly, are not as interested in that community going forward or want to build it from scratch, themselves. Someone I spoke to for that article who I think we’ve featured on VinePair before, John Wabeck, who is a guy in Pittsburgh, a wine professional in Pittsburgh, and really kind of created the sommelier scene in Pittsburgh, not entirely by himself, but was really instrumental in creating it. You can be a person like that who says, “You know what, I don’t need an existing community. I will create one. I will find people who are interested in wine or cocktails. And I’ll teach them, I’ll learn from them, etc.” But there are a lot of people who come to big cities because they recognize that one of the best ways to learn about these things is to be in a community. And it’s hard to do that if you’re the expert. It’s nice to be the expert in some ways, but it’s hard to learn sometimes when you’re the expert. You have to be the engine of your own learning all the time. And unfortunately, the other piece of this is that, and we’ve talked about this on the podcast, too, especially outside of those regions, maybe even outside of the U.S. the perception of America as a market, especially for wine, but for other things, too, is still about, what, four or five, eight, 10 cities max? It’s a fight to get not just products, but people who are visiting winemakers and even whole promotional organizations and boards. If you’re in a smaller town, do you want to be having to go on the road, take a five-, six-, seven-hour drive just to be able to go taste wine, because the only city in your broad region that’s getting a visit from this Italian wine consortium or whatever is that far away? That’s a tough thing. I mean, again, I don’t think it’s insurmountable. I think there are some people who would look at that as an acceptable cost, but it is a real challenge for people, I think, especially younger professionals who might not be able to kind of be as self-confident in saying, “Hey, I’m going to just go build this thing from nothing.” Or flip side, maybe they’re just dumb enough to think they can and will succeed because that’s a lot of what life is is just trying s***.

A: Yep, I agree. I completely agree. I think there’s a lot of opportunity and there’s going to be some downsides, as you said. But also, I do wonder if how we’ve all become so digital in the last year might help with that somewhat. Could you still join a tasting group that is now digital and meet with people and keep your game up? Could you still join a group of bartenders who are learning skills on Zoom or things like that? So that yes, it’s a bummer. But I also think when certain markets do emerge, other places will follow. Right? I think other people will follow. People will start realizing all of a sudden that Blacksburg is a great place for wine because if one person is having a lot of success, someone else is going to open another place. That’s just how it works. When a market realizes that Italian food is the hot thing, more Italian restaurants open. And I think the same thing is true for this. It’s just people taking the leap. And I do think it’s really, really interesting to think about there being more people doing that in the next few years, post-Covid. I really do.

Z: I think the other piece of this that we can’t know now totally but is going to be interesting, is to what extent does the broader population say, “Maybe I don’t want to live in New York City?” I mean, we’ve talked about whether this whole “New York dying thing” is a myth or not. And obviously, New York is not dying. But I do think that there are some real questions as to whether, as maybe more work goes fully digital, as people reconsider what their priorities are, we may just see a little bit of a migration away from really big cities with crazy-expensive costs of living. And that might help foster some of this movement within the service sector. Because obviously, to some extent, the service sector is always going to follow people and the money. And if those kinds of people are moving — whether it’s to college towns or to just smaller communities or smaller cities — then yes, for sure, “tradespeople” will follow, too. And I think also, maybe something for us to talk about another time, I don’t think it’s going to fit into this conversation but makes it interesting for you and I and for everyone at VinePair to think about: How do you cover an industry that is maybe a little bit more dispersed? And I think we’ve always done a really good job of highlighting bars, restaurants, wine programs, etc. all over the country. But it is true that the more decentralized it becomes, the more kind of like, “Oh, how do we grapple with an industry where maybe the greatest wine bar in the country is actually in the 143rd largest community in the country? Like, that’s certainly possible, and that would be cool. But it also puts an additional kind of onus on us, which I mean, I’m interested in, but is kind of different than in an era when the only things that people seem to care about in wine were happening in five cities.

A: Yeah, I agree. I mean, look, I’d encourage people who are listening, if you have thought about it there’s definitely people who love wine, cocktails, great beer all over the country. And I think now more than ever, there’s a lot less risk to doing it. So, yeah, if you are thinking about it, drop us a line. Let us know if you’ve done it. I’d love to hear those stories, too. If you’re a listener and you’ve opened a cocktail bar, wine bar, craft beer bar, whatever in a smaller market, we would love to hear from you. I think it’d be cool to interview you for “Next Round” etc. and let other people hear what you’re up to. Because I think, again, like I said earlier, there’s going to be some really, really, really exciting things that happen and a lot more possibilities than they’re used to be.

Z: Yeah, for sure.

A: Zach, this has been great, as always. For everyone listening, drop us a note at podcast@vinepair.com. Let us know what you think about the show. Leave us a review wherever you get your podcasts. Five stars please, and we’ll see you next week.

Z: Sounds great.

Thanks so much for listening to the VinePair Podcast. If you enjoy listening to us every week, please leave us a review or rating on iTunes, Spotify, or wherever it is that you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show. Now for the credits. VinePair is produced by myself and Zach Geballe. It is also mixed and edited by him. Yeah, Zach, we know you do a lot. I’d also like to thank the entire VinePair team, including my co-founder, Josh, and our associate editor, Cat. Thanks so much for listening. See you next week.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article VinePair Podcast: Can Small Towns Save Sommeliers and Bartenders? appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/small-towns-sommeliers-bartenders/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/vinepair-podcast-can-small-towns-save-sommeliers-and-bartenders

[renaroo]

Wash and Tucker with 5 or Grif and Simmons with 24?

The Things I’ll Do For Love

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth.Warnings: Canon-typical language, Sexual contentRating: M

A/N: It’s been far too long since I wrote Grimmons so thank you for the prompt lol

If Grif turned his head any further, his shoulder would have broke through to his eardrum.

Simmons nervously shifted his feet, feeling a little more awkward than he usually cared to feel. Which was a shame considering the eternal awkwardness that he found himself in. Especially after joining the military. Especially after meeting Grif.

And that was the way they stood in the driveway for nearly a minute. Simmons altered how much weight he shifted between his leg and the prosthetic, worrying a loose string on his sweater. Grif with his head nearly parallel to the ground as his eyes squinted further and further until Simmons wasn’t even sure he was looking at the garage anymore. Really, knowing Grif, it was just as likely that he was sleeping instead.

The agonizing seconds ticked by, the freshly fallen snow in the yard blowing up with each passing hover car. The silence almost seemed to echo along the other identical houses in the neighborhood, all two story and sloped to a porch roof that only went as far out as the garage door to make the front lines of the house a perfect rectangle. Ideal size. Ideal shape. Conformity.

Of course, their house wasn’t exactly matching the cookie cutter like the rest anymore due to the giant tree which had ripped free from the frozen earth of their side yard and landed promptly onto the tin roof of the garage. Which caved in to the attic. Which caved into floor of said attic. Which knocked the unused kayak from the roof of the garage. Which screeched rudder first into the electric car which had been charging in the garage. Which had caused the power to go out when the fuse blew. Which caused the heater to stop working. Which was why, even in only their sweaters and rashly slung on goulashes, Simmons was just as warm as he had been five minutes beforehand in the bedroom.

“Yeah,” Grif finally announced, turning his head just enough to glare Simmons’ way. “This is absolutely your fault.”

Later, Simmons would blame his delayed response on the frostbite to his brain, but instead he was actually just sputtering for words.

Of course, it wasn’t like he had anything all the original on the tip of his tongue dying to get free either.

“My fault? How the hell can this be my fault?” Simmons demanded. For additional benefit, he made large motions toward the tree which was hanging out in their garage. “Did I knock down the tree? Did I break the car? Did I overload the fusebox on purpose?”

“Might as well have,” Grif shrugged, his breath lingering between them as if just to add extra sting to Simmons’ badly bruised ego.

“How?” Simmons’ voice peaked.

“Because you—“

“Oh my god,” Simmons groaned, already knowing what Grif was getting at. He turned from Grif and glared at the damn garage and the damn tree and the damn everything because this fight was not happening again.

“—were the one—“

“Grif, this is going to make me kick your ass,” Simmons warned. “If you say one more time that—“

“—that wanted to move to the suburbs!”

Without hesitation, Simmons turned and landed a heavy punch right for Grif’s shoulder that didn’t even make the other man flinch as he just stared expectantly back at Simmons.

“No more city life for good ol’ Simmons. Why would we still be renting an apartment where the takeout’s delivered to your door or where the movies are around the block. Why would we want to live like civilized human beings and not where fucking trees can come flying like a bat out of hell and destroy a mortgage,” Grif mocked, shoving his fists into the pockets of his robe. “Good call, fuckface.”

Despite himself, Simmons felt what was left warm of his blood swarm his cheeks, no doubt causing him to light up redder than the mittens Donut gave him for Christmas. “Grif! You can’t just call me that in public,” Simmons decreed, looking around nervously to the other houses. “We have neighbors.”

“You know what we had in the city? In our apartment? Closer neighbors. Neighbors who shared a bedroom wall with us. And you still handcuffed me to the radiator that one time and put a freshly baked cake a foot out of my reach,” Grif reminded him. “What you should say is that you don’t give a damn about neighbors, you care about suburbanites who don’t want to know that the reason we didn’t immediately put the fire in our garage out was because you were determined to suck—“

“I hate you,” Simmons hissed.

“And I hate the suburbs,” Grif stated flatly.

They continued to stand, in underwear and sweatshirts and a robe and mild other adornments respectively, with their hot breath hanging between them.

The cold was starting to get to Simmons, but not as much as his irritation with Grif was.

“It’s your kayak,” he said lowly.

Grif didn’t react for a moment before finally twitching a bit and looking Simmons’ way. “What?”

“It’s your kayak,” Simmons reminded him. “I didn’t want it. You were the one who thought we had room for it—“

“We did have room for it!” Grif cried out defensively.

“Where? Through the windshield of my car?” Simmons cried back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dick, how did I not anticipate that a goddamn tree would be taking up some space on the ceiling!” Grif responded in kind.

They fell silent at each other’s points, the air between them filled nearly as much with steam as it was thickening breath. The anger was palpable. Which made what needed to be said next that much less inviting to say but, well, Simmons knew it needed to be said.

“You know you’ve got to call Sarge, right? He’s got an electrician’s license and there’s no way anyone else is crazy enough to drive through this weather out to—“

“The suburbs and risk getting crushed by a tree,” Grif finished sourly. “And abso-fucking-lutely not. You will call the old asshole and tell him to get out here. I’m going back to bed and finishing where we left off with or — preferably — without you.”

“Oh, please, after coming out here with no layers? You’ve got nothing to work with,” Simmons spat out before he even realized what he was saying. He stiffened up immediately and glanced sheepishly around to the other houses. They were definitely being watched by neighbors at that point.

“Neighbors,” Grif said in mock warning.

“Oh, shut up,” Simmons scoffed in return. “And no, you know I can’t call Sarge and tell him that things are wrong! I’ll get nervous and say the opposite and hang up because I can’t deal with disappointment!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty disappointing that you dropped that fucking tree on our house on the coldest goddamn day of the year,” Grif snarked. “I am not calling Sarge.” he glanced back to the other houses as well, running his thick fingers through his hair. “Aren’t savages out in the suburbs always bitching about city people not being nice? Not a single one of these fuckers have offered to hook us up with some space heaters or an extension cord while we’ve been out here entertaining them.”

“Maybe because we keep talking about dicks and sex while standing outside our house half naked,” Simmons muttered, face heating up impossibly more.

“Ugh, fine. Fuck. Man. I hate everything,” Grif groaned. “I’ll call Sarge, but you know that we’re still in the suburbs and he’s gonna be, like, at least an hour away.”

“Yeah. We’ll have to figure out a way to keep warm until then,” Simmons sighed.

They stood together for a few moments longer. Then, almost at the same time, they looked instead to each other

“Well… you know what they say about body heat,” Simmons laughed awkwardly.

“Oh my god, I know it’s your turn don’t try to make some kind of setup that your delivery is gonna epically fail here,” Grif groaned. “C’non. Let’s get in and… you know. Some sort of suburbanite safe euphemism for a blow job.”

“Yup. Good job, you nailed it, very PC,” Simmons groaned.

[techcrunchappcom]

New Post has been published on https://techcrunchapp.com/covid-19-news-latest-updates-the-new-york-times/

Covid-19 News: Latest Updates - The New York Times

Here’s what you need to know:

Members of the Wisconsin National Guard test residents for the coronavirus at a temporary test facility.Credit…Scott Olson/Getty Images

As coronavirus cases across the United States climb toward a third peak, the country surpassed a total of eight million total known cases on Thursday afternoon, according to a New York Times database.

Epidemiologists warned of a new, worrisome phase as 17 states are seeing surges unlike anything they experienced earlier in the pandemic. States including Alaska, Minnesota, Montana and Wisconsin reported more new cases during the seven-day stretch that ended on Wednesday than in any other week since the virus arrived in the country.

Reports of new cases are trending upward in 41 states over the last two weeks, while nine states are holding case numbers roughly steady. No state in the country is seeing a sustained decline.

Many of the 17 states seeing more new cases than ever — located mostly in the Midwest or in the Mountain West — had relatively few cases until recently. But cases are now steadily climbing. Intensive care unit beds in hospitals are few and far between in some rural communities, experts said, raising concerns about crowded facilities.

“What’s happening in the Upper Midwest is just a harbinger of things to come in the rest of the country,” said Michael Osterholm, an infectious-diseases expert at the University of Minnesota.

April 10

31,709

new cases

(7-day avg.)

New cases per day in the United States

April 10

31,709

new cases

(7-day avg.)

New cases per day in the United States

April 10

31,709

new cases

(7-day avg.)

New cases per day in the U.S.

April 10

31,709

new cases

(7-day avg.)

New cases per day

in the United States

Already, signs of the uptick are appearing beyond the nation’s middle. In the Northeast, where cases have been relatively low since a spring surge, reports of new infections have started ticking upward again. In the South, where infections spiked this summer, the picture varies from state to state, with sustained progress in Florida and Georgia but worrisome trends in Arkansas and Kentucky.

The number of cases alone is not a full measure of the nation’s outbreak — it is difficult to compare the current numbers with earlier points in the U.S. outbreak when testing was less widespread — and deaths from the virus have been relatively flat in recent weeks, with an average of about 700 per day. But “we are headed in the wrong direction,” said Caitlin Rivers, an epidemiologist at Johns Hopkins University.

“That’s reflected not only in the number of new cases but also in test positivity and the number of hospitalizations,” said Dr. Rivers, an epidemiologist at Johns Hopkins University. “Together, I think these three indicators give a very clear picture that we are seeing increased transmission in communities across the country.”

High levels of infection in colleges and universities, Dr. Osterholm said, are serving as one source of the spread. Transmission also has been prevalent at events such as funerals, family barbecues and birthday parties, he said, adding that the comeback of sporting events and dining has also added to the spread this fall.

“Pandemic fatigue has clearly set in for large segments of the population,” he said. “This is not even an uptick, this is a major surge of cases that is happening.”

He added, “It’s only going to get worse, we have to be prepared for that.”

Even as cases increased, President Trump continued to downplay the resurgence of this virus this fall during an appearance on Fox Business on Thursday morning. He added he did not support strictest restrictions by local officials to limit its spread. “We’re not doing any more lockdowns, we’re doing fine,” he said.

But Dr. Anthony S. Fauci, the nation’s top infectious disease expert, also warned on Thursday morning that the increase in cases across multiple regions of the country could have dire consequences over the coming months.

“The issue is that as we enter, as we are now, the cooler season of the fall, and ultimately the coldest season of the winter, you don’t want to be in that compromised position where your baseline daily infection is high, and you’re increasing as opposed to going in the other direction,” he said on “Good Morning America.” “So we’ve really got to double down on the fundamental public health measures that we talk about every single day, because they can make a difference.”

France’s health minister, Olivier Véran, this month. He was one of several officials whose home and office were searched by the authorities.Credit…Ludovic Marin/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images

Prime Minister Jean Castex of France on Thursday extended to the entire country health restrictions that had so far been imposed only in areas hard-hit by the virus. The new rules were announced shortly after the French police searched the homes and offices of several current and former officials as part of an inquiry into the government’s response to the coronavirus pandemic.

Starting Saturday, all restaurants will have to follow a strict health protocol that includes keeping registers of customers for contact-tracing and keeping seating to no more than six per table. Private parties will be forbidden in public spaces, and rules to encourage social distancing, such as limiting the number of spectators or visitors in cultural venues or customers in shopping centers, will be enforced throughout the country.

The rules are part of the renewed state of emergency announced by President Emmanuel Macron on Wednesday. Other measures include a nightly curfew around Paris and eight other major cities, for at least four weeks.

Residents of affected areas will be barred from leaving their homes between 9 p.m. and 6 a.m. and will have to carry a form explaining the reasons for travel during that time slot, Mr. Castex said. Permitted outings include work, dog-walking, trips for health reasons, and travel to and from train stations and airports.

Some 12,000 police officers will be deployed throughout the country to enforce the curfew, said Interior Minister Gérald Darmanin.

The move is expected to deal a fresh blow to France’s restaurant and tourism industries, which make up nearly 10 percent of economic activity. The government said it would grant up to 1 billion euros in financial aid to businesses and extend an offer of cheap, state-backed loans. Officials will also direct money to theaters and other culture operations that can’t function under the new measures, and are encouraging people to continue taking vacations and patronizing hotels.

Mr. Macron highlighted the tension between economic and health concerns as he announced the curfew. A new lockdown for an already reeling economy would have been “disproportionate,” he said, yet the pressure on hospitals was intolerable. “Our caregivers are exhausted,” he said.

The seven-day average of new cases over the past week was 17,936 on Wednesday, and intensive care units were rapidly filling with virus patients. Mr. Castex said that slowing down the spread of the virus with targeted curfews was the “only real possible strategy.”

The police searches on Thursday included the homes and offices of France’s health minister, Olivier Véran, and Jérome Salomon, a top official at the health ministry, as well as the homes of former Prime Minister Edouard Philippe, the former health minister Agnès Buzyn and a former government spokeswoman, Sibeth Ndiaye.

The inquiry was launched in July by the French Court of Justice, a special court that hears accusations of government mismanagement. Over the past few months, more than 90 complaints had been filed, accusing several government officials of willfully failing to take appropriate action to combat the virus, endangering people’s lives.

The French Court of Justice examined all of the complaints but finally decided to accept only nine of them, with the charge of failing from fighting a disaster. This offense is punishable by two years of imprisonment and a fine of 30,000 euros.

The French government has been harshly criticized for its handling of the first wave of the virus, from March to May, which resulted in about 30,000 deaths. A critical shortage of masks and testing kits led to the virus’s rapid spread and prompted France to impose one of the world’s strictest nationwide lockdowns.

Workers preparing boxes of free food for distribution in Chelsea, Mass.Credit…Brian Snyder/Reuters

After an ambitious expansion of the safety net in the spring saved millions of people in the United States from poverty, the aid is now largely exhausted and poverty has returned to levels higher than before the coronavirus crisis, two new studies have found.

The number of poor people has grown by eight million since May, according to researchers at Columbia University, after falling by four million at the pandemic’s start as a result of a $2 trillion emergency package known as the Cares Act.

Using a different definition of poverty, researchers from the University of Chicago and Notre Dame found that poverty has grown by six million people in the past three months, with circumstances worsening most for Black people and children.

“These numbers are very concerning,” said Bruce D. Meyer, an economist at the University of Chicago and an author of the study. “They tell us people are having a lot more trouble paying their bills, paying their rent, putting food on the table.”

Significantly, the studies differ on the most recent month: While the Columbia model shows an improvement in September, the Chicago and Notre Dame analysts found poverty continued to grow.

The recent rise in poverty has occurred despite an improving job market, an indiction that the economy has been rebounding too slowly to offset the lost benefits.

The Democratic-controlled House has twice passed multitrillion-dollar packages to provide more help and to stimulate the economy, but members of a divided Republican-led Senate, questioning the cost and necessity, have proposed smaller plans. President Trump has demanded that Congress “go big” before the elections and canceled negotiations.

While the job market may have gotten better since hitting bottom in April, it recently flattened and is now declining again. American employers continue to shed workers at a staggering rate as a resurgent virus and the absence of new federal aid take their tolls.

The Labor Department reported Thursday that 885,000 Americans filed new claims for unemployment benefits last week, an increase from the previous week. That figure is not adjusted for seasonal variations.

Over the past month, large employers including United Airlines, Disney and Allstate announced tens of thousands of layoffs, and more are expected as sectors like leisure and hospitality struggle. In some states, restaurants have salvaged some business by serving diners outside, but many will lose that option as temperatures fall.

The Soho area of London on Thursday. Matt Hancock, the British health secretary, announced tightened virus restrictions for the city and other areas of England.Credit…John Sibley/Reuters

London will join other big cities in Europe, including Paris and Berlin, in tightening restrictions to stem a rapidly rising second wave of coronavirus cases in the region.

Within London, the average number of cases now stands at 97 per 100,000 people, near the threshold for negotiating a move from medium to high risk alert level. Virus-related hospital admissions and deaths are on the rise.

People from different households will be barred from meeting indoors starting Saturday as the city shifts into England’s second-highest alert level, health secretary Matt Hancock announced in Parliament on Thursday. People will also be discouraged from using public transportation.

The increased measures will also apply to the city of York in northern England, as well as the Essex region and parts of central England.

The weekly number of new coronavirus cases in Europe is now at its highest point since the start of the pandemic, a top World Health Organization official said on Thursday, urging governments to impose tighter, targeted controls on social gatherings.

“We’re at a critical moment in our fight against Covid-19,” London’s mayor, Sadiq Khan, said during a meeting at City Hall on Thursday.

He sharply criticized the government’s virus testing program in a statement a short while later.

“I know these further restrictions will require Londoners to make yet more sacrifices, but the disastrous failure of the test, trace and isolate system leaves us with little choice,” he said in the statement.

While Mr. Hancock on Thursday said that testing capacity was up, the government’s test and trace system has been plagued with issues. In Birmingham, a local council was found to have distributed about 25 used swab-test kits to households by mistake.

Jonathan Ashworth, the opposition Labour Party’s lead lawmaker on health issues, also criticized the testing program, arguing that the measures announced Thursday would be insufficient to halt the spread of the virus. He reiterated his call for the government to impose a national lockdown — and to provide more financial support to mitigate the impact of virus restrictions.

Hospitality and travel industries were hit particularly hard by the impact of the new rules. Shares in Marston’s, a large chain of bars and pubs in Britain, fell as much as 8 percent and the company said it was looking to cut 2,150 jobs that are currently furloughed.

The announcement came after the government published data that showed the country’s jobless rate had already climbed to a three-year high and there were a record number of layoffs in August, adding to concerns that Britain will experience a sharp rise in unemployment this winter.

The head of the World Health Organization’s Europe office, Hans Kluge, said Thursday that restrictions on social gatherings were “absolutely necessary” and that more drastic action might be needed. The number of confirmed cases in Europe rose by a million to seven million in just 10 days, Dr. Kluge warned, and the number of daily deaths has passed 1,000.

British scientists have proposed that the government schedule a temporary “circuit breaker” lockdown for the last week of October and first week of November, when schools are closed for midterm break, to make it less disruptive. But Prime Minister Boris Johnson has resisted the idea, maintaining his position that targeted measures are best.

Senator Kamala Harris was scheduled to hold three events in North Carolina on Thursday but has canceled them.Credit…Hilary Swift for The New York Times

The Biden campaign announced Thursday that it was suspending Senator Kamala Harris’s campaign travel through Sunday after two people who had traveled with her tested positive for the coronavirus. Hours later, the campaign said a person who had been aboard Joseph R. Biden Jr.’s plane had also tested positive.

The announcements were the Biden campaign’s closest known brush with the virus. The two people who had traveled with Ms. Harris — her campaign communications director, Liz Allen, and a flight crew member — flew with her last Thursday, when Ms. Harris campaigned with Mr. Biden in Arizona.

The person on Mr. Biden’s flights who tested positive, an employee of the company that charters the plane, was aboard for trips to Ohio on Monday and to Florida on Tuesday, but was a great distance from Mr. Biden, the campaign said.

“Our campaign’s contact tracing remains ongoing, and my team will continue to share any significant developments with the American people,” Mr. Biden wrote on Twitter. “If anything, let this serve as an example of the importance of wearing masks and keeping a safe, social distance.”

Ms. Harris had been scheduled to campaign in North Carolina on Thursday and in Ohio on Friday. She will now return to the campaign trail on Monday. The campaign said she had tested negative for the virus on Wednesday and again on Thursday.

Mr. Biden’s campaign manager, Jennifer O’Malley Dillon, said in a statement that Ms. Harris “was not in close contact, as defined by the C.D.C., with either of these individuals during the two days prior to their positive tests; as such, there is no requirement for quarantine.”

But Ms. O’Malley Dillon said Ms. Harris’s travel through Sunday was being canceled “out of an abundance of caution and in line with our campaign’s commitment to the highest levels of precaution.”

During a virtual fund-raiser on Thursday, Ms. Harris addressed the positive tests and the campaign’s response, and drew a comparison with President Trump. “We wanted to make sure that we were adhering to what has been, I think, a very appropriate and strict level of seriousness around the caution that we are exercising to make sure everyone is safe,” she said. “Obviously, it’s been in stark contrast to you-know-who.”

On Thursday afternoon, the campaign said that the person aboard Mr. Biden’s plane, an administrative employee with the charter company who had been contacted during contact tracing for the crew member who traveled with Ms. Harris, had also tested positive.

The employee was seated in the last row of Mr. Biden’s plane, a Boeing 737, on Monday and Tuesday, and was more than 50 feet away from Mr. Biden at all times, Ms. O’Malley Dillon said. “We have been advised by the vice president’s doctor and the campaign’s medical advisers that there is no need for the vice president to quarantine,” she said.

Mr. Biden will appear at an ABC News town hall event in Philadelphia on Thursday night. The campaign said that Mr. Biden had tested negative for the virus on Wednesday night.

On Monday, the Vatican said four guards were infected with the virus and showing symptoms. Now, seven more have tested positive, according to The A.P.Credit…Andrew Medichini/Associated Press

Eleven members of the Swiss Guard have tested positive for the coronavirus, according to a report in The Associated Press, prompting fears of an outbreak within the small corps charged with protecting the pope.

On Monday, the Vatican said four guards were infected with the virus and showing symptoms. Now, seven more have tested positive, according to The A.P.

The brightly clad Swiss Guards provide ceremonial guard duty during papal Masses and stand at the Vatican gates. They also serve as personal guards for the pope. Established in the early 16th century by Pope Julius II, the guard is considered the world’s oldest standing army.

Pope Francis, who is 83, is known for his relatively informal, friendly relationship with the guards. He has made a custom of shaking hands with them as he leaves his suite in the morning.

The Italian daily Corriere della Sera reported on Oct. 12 that Matteo Bruni, a spokesman for the Holy See, said “all the guards, on duty and not, wear masks — outdoors and indoors — and observe prescribed health measures.”

The pope has criticized priests who resist pandemic protection measures as “adolescent.” But Vatican observers have expressed concerns about his own habit of forgoing a mask in public settings.

Last week, Francis was photographed maskless at a large indoor gathering at the Vatican, speaking closely with attendees and kissing the hands of newly ordained priests.

Surgery in his early 20s left Francis missing part of one lung, a “pulmonary deficiency,” as one biographer put it, that might make it difficult to breath through a mask.

An early center of the pandemic, Italy kept the virus mostly under control through the summer. But the country has seen a sharp rise in new cases lately, with recent daily infection rates matching the country’s peak in April, according to a Times database.

Larry Kudlow, the director of the National Economic Council, boasted in February that the coronavirus was contained in the United States and that “it’s pretty close to airtight.” His private message was more ambiguous.Credit…Anna Moneymaker for The New York Times

On the afternoon of Feb. 24, President Trump declared on Twitter that the coronavirus was “very much under control” in the United States, but hours earlier, senior members of the president’s economic team, privately addressing board members of the conservative Hoover Institution, were less confident.

Tomas J. Philipson, a senior economic adviser to the president, told the group he could not yet estimate the effects of the virus on the American economy. To some in the group, the implication was that an outbreak could prove worse than Mr. Philipson and other Trump administration advisers were signaling in public at the time.

The next day, board members — many of them Republican donors — got another taste of government uncertainty from Larry Kudlow, the director of the National Economic Council. Hours after he had boasted on CNBC that the virus was contained in the United States and “it’s pretty close to airtight,” Mr. Kudlow delivered a more ambiguous private message. He asserted that the virus was “contained in the U.S., to date, but now we just don’t know,” according to a document describing the sessions obtained by The New York Times.

The document, written by a hedge fund consultant who attended the three-day gathering of Hoover’s board, was stark. “What struck me,” the consultant wrote, was that nearly every official he heard from raised the virus “as a point of concern, totally unprovoked.”

The consultant’s assessment quickly spread through parts of the investment world. U.S. stocks were already spiraling because of a warning from a federal public health official that the virus was likely to spread, but traders spotted the immediate significance: The president’s aides appeared to be giving wealthy party donors an early warning of a potentially impactful contagion at a time when Mr. Trump was publicly insisting that the threat was nonexistent.

Interviews with eight people who either received copies of the memo or were briefed on aspects of it as it spread among investors in New York and elsewhere provide a glimpse of how elite traders had access to information from the administration that helped them gain financial advantage during a chaotic three days when global markets were teetering.

To many of the investors who received or heard about the memo, it was the first significant sign of skepticism among Trump administration officials about their ability to contain the virus. It also provided a hint of the fallout that was to come, said one major investor who was briefed on it: the upending of daily life for the entire country.

“Short everything,” was the reaction of the investor, using the Wall Street term for betting on the idea that the stock prices of companies would soon fall.

A coronavirus testing site in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Borough Park.Credit…Spencer Platt/Getty Images

A week after New York officials debated and then imposed new restrictions on areas with rising coronavirus positivity rates, Mayor Bill de Blasio and Gov. Andrew M. Cuomo again seemed a bit at odds over whether the strategy to contain the virus had yet proven effective.

On Thursday morning, Mr. de Blasio said at a news conference that the efforts to contain the virus in hot-spot neighborhoods in Queens and Brooklyn seemed to be working, without providing specific information about positivity rates in those areas.

“We are seeing a plateauing now of the test results, and that is a very, very good sign,” Mr. de Blasio said, though he also acknowledged that “we’ve got more to do.”

Not long afterward, Mr. Cuomo said it was “too early to tell” whether enough progress had been made containing the virus in the so-called red zones — the parts of the state with the highest positivity rates and the most severe restrictions on gatherings and businesses.

The governor also emphasized that any decision to lift virus-related restrictions in New York City would fall to him, not the mayor.

Mr. Cuomo said that the daily rate of positive test results in the state’s red zones was 4.84 percent; statewide, the rate was 1.09 percent. Hospitalizations also fell in the state to 897, a decrease of 41 that followed several days of increases.

In New York City, Mr. de Blasio said that the city’s seven-day average positive test rate was 1.49 percent and noted that the city had conducted 17,000 tests in hot-spot neighborhoods since Sept. 30.

Restrictions: Major Minor

Restrictions: Major Minor

Restrictions: Major Minor

But the mayor said it was difficult for him to present accurate information about positivity rates in the hot spots in part because of discrepancies between the way the state and city measure data. (State data showed that the positivity rate was 4.75 percent across the red zones in Brooklyn and 2.15 percent in those in Queens.)

Mr. de Blasio also said that it was a bad time to grow complacent about the virus.

“There is the possibility that maybe people are discounting the second wave, and what it could mean,” Mr. de Blasio said. “Look no further than some states in this country, or to countries in Europe. You do not want to experience a second wave.”

Mr. de Blasio said that the city and state would continue working together despite their perceived differences.

“In a crisis, you try and obviously minimize differences, get on the same page, but you’re still going to have some inherent differences of views,” Mr. de Blasio said. “It’s just, the state does a different thing than the city does, but we ultimately get to a lot of agreement, move forward together.”

Restrictions: Major Minor

Restrictions: Major Minor

Restrictions: Major Minor

The $1.8 trillion package that Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin has proposed has proven to be a non-starter with Senate Republicans, making President Trump’s call for a bigger bill a complication.Credit…Pool photo by Chris Kleponis/EPA, via Shutterstock

President Trump, struggling to gain traction among voters just weeks before the election, called on Thursday for a bigger stimulus package than he had previously offered, and the White House signaled it was willing to make concessions to Democrats. But the proposals were unlikely to win the necessary backing from Senate Republicans who are preparing a far smaller bill of their own.

White House negotiators have proposed a $1.8 trillion relief package. Mr. Trump said that he wanted one that was even bigger and suggested, without explanation, that China would pay for it.

“I would go higher,” Mr. Trump said during an interview with the Fox Business Network. “Go big or go home.”

The comments came after Mr. Mnuchin said that the White House was willing to make additional concessions to Speaker Nancy Pelosi of California in hopes of rekindling a stimulus deal before the election. But the $1.8 trillion package that he has proposed has already proven to be a non-starter with Senate Republicans who have panned it as too costly, making Mr. Trump’s call for a more expensive bill another complication in the already fraught negotiations.

Investors, who have been following the stimulus talks closely, seemed unmoved by statements from Mr. Trump and Mr. Mnuchin on Thursday, with stocks on Wall Street dropping for a third consecutive day.

The president suggested that Ms. Pelosi’s $2.2 trillion proposal was littered with Democratic priorities that his “pride” would not allow him to accept. However, he also undercut his own Treasury secretary for not being able to secure a larger agreement.

“So far he hasn’t come home with the bacon,” Mr. Trump said of Mr. Mnuchin.

The negotiations between the White House and Congress are expected to continue on Thursday, when Mr. Mnuchin and Ms. Pelosi are scheduled to speak.

Speaking on CNBC, the Treasury secretary said that he would agree to the language that Democrats had insisted on when it came to a coronavirus testing program and noted that the two sides had already agreed to spend an additional $75 billion on testing and contact tracing. The specifics of such a program have been an obstacle in the talks.

“We’ll fundamentally agree with their testing language, subject to some minor issues,” Mr. Mnuchin said. “We need to get money to the American public now.”

Mr. Mnuchin’s remarks came after the Labor Department reported that the number of new claims for unemployment benefits jumped to 886,000 last week.

But on Wednesday, Mr. Mnuchin acknowledged it would be difficult to pass and enact a deal in the next three weeks.

In the interview on CNBC, Mr. Mnuchin did not directly address the lack of support for a bill by Senator Mitch McConnell, the majority leader, suggesting that he has been briefed on negotiations between the White House and House Democrats while acknowledging that Senate Republicans prefer a more “targeted” relief bill.

But Mr. McConnell downplayed the prospects of a larger bill on Thursday.

“He’s talking about a much larger amount than I can sell to my members,” Mr. McConnell said about the president’s comments.

Negotiators have been locked in fruitless talks for months. On Thursday, Mr. Mnuchin assailed Democrats for letting politics get in the way of reaching agreement before the election, though Mr. Trump scuttled the talks himself when he said in a tweet last week that he had called off stimulus negotiations until after the election.

Mr. Mnuchin also called on Congress to give him the authority to repurpose approximately $300 billion in unused relief money from the legislation that was passed in March. He said he could begin getting that money into the economy this week.

Tel Aviv on Wednesday.Credit…Oded Balilty/Associated Press

The Israeli government voted Thursday to lift some elements of its lockdown as the number of new coronavirus cases continued to decline.

The decision, which will go into effect on Sunday, will permit Israelis to go more than 1,000 meters beyond their homes without the need for a special reason, order takeout from restaurants, visit beaches, send their children to day care centers and kindergartens, and reopen some businesses.

But other restrictions will remain in place, including bans on the opening of bars, restaurants, malls, and event halls. Elementary, middle and high schools will also remain closed.

At a news conference, Yuli Edelstein, the health minister, pointed to “encouraging data” on the spread of the virus, but he said Israelis still had “a long road” ahead of them

When the lockdown began on Sept. 18 at the beginning of Rosh Hashana, the country’s seven-day rolling average was about 4,300 new cases, according to Our World in Data. As of Thursday, the number had fallen to about 2,500 cases.

Israel moved quickly to reopen the country in May after an earlier lockdown, throwing open the doors of schools, restaurants, bars and other gathering places. But experts say the government moved too hastily, allowing the virus to spread out of control.

On Thursday, Mr. Edelstein stressed that Israel would be reopened with “careful and calculated steps” in the hopes of avoiding a third lockdown.

While the latest closings appear to have helped stem the spread of the virus, they have taken a major toll on the economy. The central bank has estimated that it has cost the economy more than $2 billion per week.

Many business owners have also said that the government has failed to provide them with sufficient financial support as their companies teeter on the brink of bankruptcy.

Many first-time gun buyers say they are looking to arm themselves in anticipation of unrest.Credit…Mario Tama/Getty Images

Fears of instability in the United States, stoked by street-level clashes over public health measures and the upcoming election, are fueling apparently record gun sales.

According to the F.B.I, the nearly 29 million background checks conducted through September of this year have already surpassed the total conducted in 2019, which was, at the time, higher than in any previous year.

Still, Precisely measuring the extent of the surge is difficult, as neither gun companies nor the government provide comprehensive national data on gun sales. However, anecdotal reports of gun and ammo shortages have been widespread for months.

Many first-time buyers say they are looking to arm themselves in anticipation of unrest. They cite heated rhetoric surrounding the election, as supporters of both President Trump and Joseph R. Biden Jr. have said they expect a protracted fight over the election results.

But other first-time buyers and some of those buying again have said that their decision reflects general unease about growing discontent in the United States — where millions of people face permanent job losses because of the pandemic — as well as anger about public health restrictions, which has inspired armed protests in several states with open-carry laws.

Angst about the national mood has been exacerbated by several instances of actual violence during recent months, as several people have been shot and killed by fellow demonstrators during protests over policing and police violence.

Members of the intelligence community have warned of a growing threat of far-right extremism, which they said could become a greater problem closer to the election. On Tuesday, the F.B.I. revealed that a ring of 13 men had plotted to kidnap the Democratic governors of Michigan and Virginia over stay-at-home measures to control coronavirus outbreaks in those states, and that two of them were among a crowd of armed protesters who had effectively occupied the Michigan statehouse in April while the Legislature was in session.

Global Roundup

In Hong Kong on Thursday.Credit…Kin Cheung/Associated Press

Officials in Singapore and Hong Kong said Thursday that they had reached a preliminary agreement to establish a travel bubble between the two Asian financial centers, allowing travelers of all kinds to bypass quarantine.

Under the agreement, travelers must test negative for the virus and fly only on designated flights. Officials did not say when the bubble, which was first reported by The South China Morning Post, would begin.

Travelers from Singapore would be the first allowed to enter Hong Kong since the semiautonomous Chinese territory barred all nonresidents in March; residents returning to Hong Kong are required to quarantine for 14 days. Singapore currently requires travelers from Hong Kong to quarantine for seven days after arrival.

“Both our cities have low incidence of Covid-19 cases and have put in place robust mechanisms to manage and control Covid-19,” Singapore’s travel minister, Ong Ye Kung, said in a statement.

Hong Kong’s secretary for commerce and economic development, Edward Yau, called the agreement “a milestone in our efforts to resume normalcy while fighting against the long-drawn battle of Covid-19.”

Singapore and Hong Kong have both been reporting daily new cases in the single or double digits since late August.

Efforts to establish reciprocal travel bubbles in Asia and other parts of the world have been halting as case numbers fluctuate and new outbreaks emerge. Starting Friday, Australia will waive quarantine requirements for travelers from New Zealand, which recently stamped out the virus for a second time, though New Zealand will still require quarantine for travelers arriving from Australia.

Singapore has also lifted restrictions on general visitors from Brunei, Vietnam, New Zealand and Australia except for the state of Victoria, the center of the outbreak there. But all four of those countries are still closed to almost all foreigners, and in the case of Brunei and Australia residents must apply for permission to leave the country as well.

In other global developments:

The European Parliament announced on Thursday that it would cancel a meeting scheduled to be held next week in Strasbourg, in northern France, as the outbreak widens. The meeting would have been its first in-person session in Strasbourg since the start of the pandemic. Belgium, where most parliamentary staff and members are based, is also seeing a sharp rise in cases.

Ursula von der Leyen, the president of the European Commission, went into quarantine for a second time in two weeks after being exposed to the virus. She tweeted on Thursday that she had tested negative, but a member of her office had tested positive. She wrote that she was leaving a European Council meeting in Brussels that was being held with strict social-distancing measures.

Portugal announced new virus restrictions on Thursday, including a five-person limit on public gatherings, after a rise in new cases. In Spain, which is seeing an even sharper increase, the city of Salamanca, famous for its 12th-century university, became the latest area to be cut off from the rest of the country, under new lockdown restrictions imposed by the regional government. The restrictions take effect on Saturday.

Two officials in Qingdao, China, have been fired amid a new virus outbreak there, the city government said on Thursday. The director of the health commission and the president of the Qingdao Chest Hospital are under investigation after six confirmed infections and six asymptomatic cases were linked to the hospital. The new cases are the first local transmissions China had reported in almost two months.

The weekly number of new cases in Europe is now at its highest point since the start of the pandemic, Hans Kluge, the W.H.O.’s director for Europe, said on Thursday. The number of confirmed cases rose by one million to seven million in just 10 days, and the number of daily deaths passed 1,000 for the first time in months. Many European countries are adopting stricter controls, which Dr. Kluge called “absolutely necessary,” as increased caseloads are raising fears of another surge as winter approaches.

India is now struggling with two major health challenges that are both assaulting the respiratory system and peaking at the same time. Coronavirus cases are spreading, putting the country on track to have the largest reported caseload in the world in the coming weeks. It’s also the start of the fall pollution season, and doctors say that if the ambient air suddenly becomes more toxic, as it does every year around this time in northern India, then more people who become infected by the virus might end up in the hospital or die.

After recovering from Covid-19, President Trump said he was now immune to the disease caused by the coronavirus.Credit…Doug Mills/The New York Times

President Trump might want to wait a bit before he puts on a Superman T-shirt.

After recovering from Covid-19, Mr. Trump declared that he was now immune to the disease caused by the coronavirus and was said to have talked about wearing a superhero shirt under his dress shirt.

But if Mr. Trump is in fact now immune to the virus, he may not remain so, scientists warn. While reinfection is generally rare, the treatment Mr. Trump received may have prevented his body from making the antibodies necessary for long-term protection. The experimental monoclonal antibodies from the biotech firm Regeneron that Mr. Trump was given are synthetic, and they will most likely wane in a matter of weeks. Unless they are replenished, Mr. Trump may be left more susceptible to the virus than most patients who had Covid-19 and recovered, several experts warned.

There is another wrinkle for the president.

In addition to the monoclonal antibodies he was given, Mr. Trump also received the steroid dexamethasone. That suppresses the body’s natural immune response — including the production of antibodies of its own. (He was also given the antiviral remdesivir.)

“He may be not protected the second time around, especially because he didn’t develop his own antibodies,” said Akiko Iwasaki, an immunologist at Yale University.

During an appearance on Fox Business on Thursday morning, Mr. Trump sounded hoarse and could be heard drinking a beverage between questions.

Asked if he was tested every day, he replied, “I’m not tested, not every day, but I’m tested a lot,” he said.

Given the results of the tests the White House has made available, Mr. Trump, who is appearing — probably maskless — at a town-hall-style event Thursday night, is not likely to transmit the virus to others, experts have said.

Mr. Trump praised the antibody therapy he received, falsely, as being “a cure” — then mused that maybe he would have been better “without taking anything.”

It is impossible to know whether the antibody cocktail or another treatment improved his condition. Although trials for Regeneron’s cocktail are still underway, its early data suggest the treatment can lower hospitalization rates in people who are in the early stages of the disease.

[tachinanabananase]

Can you maybeee write a drabble based on the latest trailer and what you think their life is like

Unbeta’d because im impatient af and wanted to post this for you as soon as possible lol. Also I completely ignored the fact that Kisumi is in Tokyo with them but it’s okay it’s for added dramatic tension 

Haru shudders as another gust of icy wind howls outside, rattling the window screen violently and drowning out the drone of the monotonous meteorologist on television who is about three hours late in his warning about the apocalyptic cold weather. Haru eyes the window uneasily. That time it definitely sounded like something broke. He curls defensively into his corner on the couch, as far away from the window as possible in the modest living room, and tugs his blanket up to his chin in an effort to keep out the threatening chill that is seeping into the apartment at the moment. And a valiant effort it is, although there isn’t much more he can do when it’s practically -3 °C outside in the midst of the coldest January in recent Tokyo history.

He calmly reminds himself that no, it’s not Tokyo’s fault that it’s this cold on this specific day, and that it’s just merely a coincidence this is happening only three months after moving into the city. Yep, it’s just purely by unlucky chance that his own apartment lost all power and heat during the first snowstorm of the season after only three fucking months of living there and he should absolutely not hold a grudge against the city itself for something so unpredictable happening.

Apparently Haru is just full of valiant efforts tonight. 

The doorknob jiggles suddenly. Haru almost jumps at the sound, his armhairs standing on end, but he relaxes just as quickly when he realizes there’s nothing to be worried about. 

“I’m back,” Makoto calls from down the hall. Haru counts absently in his head each stomp as he shakes the snow off his boots at the door. When the brunet appears around the corner a minute later in his knitted wool sweater and army green puffy overcoat, it’s with flushed cheeks and a tight smile. “You weren’t kidding about that wind. It’s brutal out there.”

Haru watches with concealed concern, eyeing the redness painting the tips of Makoto’s nose and ears, the shivers that he fights while removing his jacket after setting a plastic convenience store bag on the kitchen table. 

“You didn’t have to go out for me. I could have gone.”

“Nonsense,” Makoto waves Haru’s pout off with a gloved hand. He drapes his jacket over a chair, favoring the unconventional spot over the perfectly functional coatrack next to the front door. “You were practically Jack Frost by the time you got here, I wasn’t going to send you back out to suffer more. Plus, I was running low on snowstorm supplies anyway.”

“Still…” Haru grumbles, but his argument dies on his tongue because no, he still can’t totally feel his toes after trudging to Makoto’s place nearly an hour ago in the blizzard, so he has to admit that walking outside any longer would have been a frostbite disaster just waiting to happen. 

“Did they tell you when your power will be back on?”

“Hopefully sometime tomorrow morning.”

Makoto smirks knowingly. “Looks like you’re skipping class then.” Can’t argue with that logic.

Haru eyes him curiously while Makoto heads into the kitchenette, pulling out an array of goodies from his shopping bag and spreading them across the counter. “Okay, I got tea for you, hot coco for me, emergency cold medicine, three extra candles, matches, and two flashlights just in case.”

“Did you get batteries?”

“Ah shit,” Makoto sighs, a helpless grin on his lips. “I knew I would forget something without you there.”

Haru’s skin prickles suddenly, though he’s pretty sure it’s not from the cold anymore. 

“It’s fine. The candles should be enough if anything happens,” he supplies, although it’s sort of muffled by the blanket as he pulls it higher to cover the glowing blush on his cheeks. 

Haru averts his attention to the television again, which he sort of forgot was there the moment Makoto walked in the door, his focus decidedly elsewhere from that instant on. This had been a developing issue as of late, seeing as Haru found his stare more often than not settling on the sight of dazzling viridian and a familiar grin instead of whatever else it was in Tokyo that people supposedly found so interesting. He knows that naturally Makoto has become his daily reminder of home and so of course he’s drawn to that alone; it only makes sense, considering he’s the only recognizable thing to Haru in this entire city. But Makoto has always been his home, has always been the most safe and steady thing in Haru’s life, even when they were right there on his front porch in Iwatobi. So why is it that now, when they’re in this strange city together, home suddenly makes Haru’s stomach feel like it’s bursting with butterflies and his skin itch with a warm and anxious sense of anticipation?

“Do you want honey in your tea today?” Makoto’s question cuts through Haru’s swirling thoughts. He doesn’t even noticed the scream of the tea kettle in his daze. 

“Sure.” He rarely opts for sweetened tea, but today he’s battling an unusual craving for something warm and saccharine on his tongue. 

Makoto plops onto the couch beside Haru moments later, two steaming mugs in his hands and a sigh of contentment on his lips. “There you go,” he passes Haru his usual mug, the one that’s a pretty pastel blue with white dolphins stenciled around the sides. Makoto’s practically matches, except instead of blue his mug is minty green and instead of dolphins there are orcas. They’ve had them since Christmas when they were just five years old; it would have been a crime not to bring them to Tokyo after all. 

“The guy at the store said the trains wont be running for a while either.”

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way,” Haru gestures to his snow drenched clothes that are currently lying in a soppy mess on the kitchen tile. He promises he’ll clean that up later when he can wiggle his toes again. Plus, he’s still secretly reveling in the feeling of being bundled in one of Makoto’s coziest sweatshirts at the moment. He isn’t ready to give up this serenity yet. 

In comfortable quiet they sip on their drinks, the monotonous rambling of the weather report on television softly filling the space. Makoto sits hunched over with his elbows on his knees, just a centimeter too close enough for Haru to be able to feel his body heat on his thigh, which leaves him stiff while debating his next move. If he relaxes, his leg will surely touch Makoto’s, and isn’t that kind of weird? Isn’t it kind of weird in general that they sit so close like this anyway? He’s in the midst of a heated internal dispute when it’s Makoto who shifts ever so slightly, settles just a hair closer and suddenly they’re pressed together from knee to hip. In a slight panic, because he did not have time to mentally prepare himself and his stuttering heart for that, Haru’s frantic eyes dart up to assess Makoto, but the brunet shows absolutely no sign of concern. In fact, he’s just staring sort of blankly at the television, like he’s watching but there are more important things occupying his brain space at the moment. 

Haru accepts the fact that okay, he’s probably overreacting and there’s a slim chance Makoto even realizes they’re sitting so close anyway, so he tries to settle down and takes a long sip of his tea, pushing his overanxious thoughts aside as best as he can.

The mental peace lasts only for a minute before it’s hesitantly interrupted.

“Hey, Haru?”

Makoto’s voice sounds almost as distant as his stare. 

“Yeah?”

“…Why don’t you stay here?”

Haru practically snorts into his tea. “Hate to break it to you, but I planned on spending the night regardless of you inviting me or not.”

Makoto doesn’t laugh like Haru expects. In fact, he doesn’t even flinch, which is unusual because Makoto is totally the type to laugh and any and everything that Haru says whether it’s intended to be a joke or not. He watches Makoto carefully now because something is clearly not right, the brunet’s gaze falling from the television to his mug suddenly, shyly. He scratches at the porcelain with his nail absently, pink dusting his cheeks. Haru can’t tell if it’s leftover from the cold or something else entirely. 

“No, I mean stay here with me. In my apartment.”

The words come out so soft, Haru doesn’t hear them properly. Or at least he figures that he didn’t hear it right, because it sounded like Makoto was asking him to move in to his place. 

“What?”

Makoto turns over his shoulder and clears his throat, and like magic his usual smile suddenly replaces that anxious stare. “Well, since you seem to be having problems with your place and- you know how I hate being alone so much. I know it’s not as close to your school but it’s only one extra train stop. Plus it would be cheaper if we both paid rent and-”

“Makoto.”

He jerks to a stop, his grin turning sheepish. “Sorry, Haru. I just thought I’d suggest it, you know, since…” Makoto doesn’t finish that sentence. Haru doesn’t have the confidence either to fill in what he hopes Makoto is actually getting at, but he can’t stop his brain from thinking it nonetheless.Since things are changing between us.

“Okay.” He agrees before his brain can even catch up to his mouth. 

“Huh?”

“Okay, I’ll move here.” He rushes to add, “Ah- as long as you’re sure, I mean.”

“Of course I’m sure!” Makoto jumps to amend, giddiness causing his voice to rise in pitch. “Are you sure?”

He can’t help but chuckle. Makoto is just too cute sometimes. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Before he can process anything more, Makoto achieves a miracle feat of super speed, sliding his mug onto the coffee table and scooping Haru unto a bone-crushing hug all in a matter of seconds. “I’m so happy, Haru-chan,” Makoto muffles into his shirt, face tucked against Haru’s shoulder. He’s not sure if that cold, almost wet feeling on his skin is just Makoto’s still chilled nose or if his best friend is actually crying right now with joy, which is adorably amusing, but either way he sort of likes it. They’re touching all over now: Makoto’s chest pressed to his, their necks flush against each other, and if Haru were to relax, they would be aligned from head to hip with the way Makoto is practically sitting in his lap. And, he has to ask himself once more, shouldn’t that be weird?

He feels a smile tugging at his own lips, and with an exhale he accepts the hug, returning it with equal force. Makoto’s body burns against him, but it’s like the hearth of a fireplace that warms a home during the peak of winter. Haru buries his own face against Makoto’s heat and heaves a sigh of relief, because no, it’s never been weird, and he’s certain that when it comes to them, no matter where they are, it never will be. He laughs, shaky but relieved, because things are changing between them, and he whispers into Makoto’s hair with choked sincerity,

“I’m really happy too.”

[thran-duils]

He’s Yours (APA P.4)

TITLE: He’s Yours (APA Part 4) PAIRING: Reader/AU!Castiel SUMMARY: Your parents are having their 30th anniversary and you are visiting your hometown after years of being gone. After living in the city for so long, coming back to your small town is overwhelming and also brings about a lot of baggage. Including your intense high school romance with Castiel. WORDS: 2,640 Warnings: Language, Angst AUTHOR’S NOTE: Italics are the past.

Part 3 || Part 5 || MASTERPOST  || Fanfic masterpost

“Do you ever get lonely?” Castiel asked as picked up the next shot. The two of you had taken a break since the last one, continuing to catch up. This question caught you off guard a little bit, it going deeper than his previous ones.

Brushing it off though, you responded with a light laugh, “It’s a city, Cas.”

He seemed unfazed by your nonchalant response. “Yeah, but there being so many people, you could get easily lost. Just because there’s more people doesn’t mean it’s more social.”

Castiel was always receptive to this type of thing. He could sense when someone who was in a room full of people felt alone and he did his best to provide them company. He didn’t like people feeling left out and he knew how easily it could happen. He didn’t like people being uncomfortable and did his best to be inclusive.

“Such wisdom,” you teased.

Holding up his glass, he invited you for the second round. You picked up your glass, tapping his before tipping back.

As your glass hit the counter again, Castiel stated, “Just an observation.” You nodded in acknowledgement. Something in his tone changed when he asked, “But, really… are you alright?”

He still cared.

You looked at him, your eyes searching his face. You saw nothing but genuine concern and intrigue. It was all too clear that you moving away did nothing to erase his feelings for you and it had been the same with you. You still felt so deeply for him.

Forcing yourself to react, you nodded, “For the most part. Of course it’s hard to meet people and my circle is small compared to the entire city. But, I’ve found a couple people I’m close to.”

There was a moment’s look of deflation on Castiel’s face and you knew damn well that wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that you were unhappy and that you were coming home. But he covered it quickly, only a second slip up.

Smiling, he said, “Good. Last thing I would want is for you to be miserable.”

“Far from it. Slightly disappointed, sure as hell am there. But not miserable,” you replied, trying to give him some satisfaction. Things weren’t perfect and you weren’t going to lie about it.

His eyes ran over you slowly and you kept staring at him. When he met your eyes again, a spark went through you again, just like when you saw him for the first time. It was like the rest of the world melted away. It was just the two of you, rekindling something that you now felt should have never been put out. It might have been the alcohol but lately, in sobriety, you had been thinking about Castiel more and more, wanting what the two of you had had. You were torn between being away from this town which was a positive for you but being away from Castiel was a negative. You didn’t know how to reconcile the difference.

Castiel interrupted your thoughts, proposing, “Wanna grab another shot and then take them back to the tables?”

“You drove here!”

“I can walk home. You know where I live.”

That you did.

Nodding, you laughed, “Fine, fine. If you insist.”

His smile could warm up the coldest of winters.

<> <> <>

Castiel put the car in park and turned off the truck. You were hopping with giddiness as you threw the door open and hopped out of the truck, slamming it closed behind you. You jogged to the back of the truck and hopped up into the bed of the truck.

Tearing off the tarp, you revealed the large kite and breathed a sigh of relief seeing that the string had stayed put and not tangled.

Castiel was leaning against the side of the truck, peering into the bed. He cracked a small smirk seeing it was intact. “Need help getting it out—“ he started to say but was cut off when you thrust a side of the kite into his hands.

Grabbing the spool, you instructed, “Be careful.”

“Of course,” Castiel said as you maneuvered with him as he lifted the kite gently out of the truck and you climbed out again, holding onto the spool.

Castiel held into the bridle until you were ready. He let it go slowly but the wind took it immediately and your face broke out into a wide smile seeing it go up with such ease. You pulled on the line at the perfect second, keeping it steady.

He was behind you immediately, adjusting his baseball cap to look up at it properly. “Good job, nightingale.”

Smiling over your shoulder at him, you saw his shining eyes watching you, pleased. You loved when he called you that. It made you blush the first time he complimented your singing voice when he had overheard you accidentally when you were gardening at home and it still made you blush now.

Turning your eyes back to the kite, you kept it steady against the wind.

Castiel’s arms were around your shoulders suddenly, and he grabbed onto the spool gently to not disrupt the melody you’d set to keep the kite flying.

He intoned in a soft voice, “Sing sweet, nightingale. Sing sweet, nightingale, high.”

You laughed, hearing him go off key with the last word, imitating Drizella. After he had called you nightingale for the first time, you’d pointed out there was that song in Cinderella and he had never let it go. You halfheartedly regretted bringing it up but also loved his fascination with your voice.

Switching gears, keeping with his Disney theme, you began singing softly, “Let’s go fly a kite, up to the highest height. Let’s go fly a kite and send it soaring. Up through the atmosphere, up where the air is clear. Oh, let’s go fly a kite.”

Castiel was chuckling, nuzzling his nose against your ear. You turned your head slightly and he moved forward to give you a kiss. “Always sing for me, nightingale.”

“I promise,” you vowed, giving him another quick kiss before turning your attention back to the kite.

You held the kite steady, happy to feel his arms wrapped around yours, holding the kite with you. Just the two of you in this wide, open field, holding onto each other. You hoped to never forget this moment of serenity.

But a part of you felt yourself in the kite. Wanting to escape in the wind but being tethered down. And it happened to be you and Castiel keeping it from breaking away.

<> <> <>

Castiel had left you at the table to go to the bathroom and Amanda had gone back to the bar to get herself a drink. You were stuck with a couple of guys from high school, plus two girls you didn’t know that well, and Rachel.

Rachel honed in immediately. “So, what’s it like in the city?”

You replied, “Busy. Traffic. High rent. But excitement.”

Scoffing slightly, Rachel stated, “Sounds like the only thing I would like is the excitement you’re talking about. No offense.”

Through a fake smile, you said, “None taken.”

“So, do you have spending money? I heard the wages aren’t that great compared to rent there.” You were getting annoyed with her questions even if she hadn’t been speaking to you that long. It was more her than the questions to be honest. You forced yourself to not look around for either Amanda or Castiel.

Twirling your empty shot glass around a bit on the table, you and Castiel had not waited long to take the third one, you contemplated for a moment, gathering your response before spewing it out. “I have spending money. I make more than what my bills are. And I go out and do things with friends. Not that much different than here except there’s more to do because obviously there’s more activities and places to go.”

“You would be paying less rent here,” Rachel pointed out. “And could be getting a similar wage in your line of work which would mean more spending money.”

Without missing a beat, you responded, “But I wouldn’t be as happy.”

The curling smile on her face made you feel apprehension immediately. “Thought Castiel meant more to you than that. Maybe you are that selfish.”

You’d fallen into a trap she had meant for you to fall into and you felt a sinking in your gut. Somehow you found yourself speechless against this. And you wanted to claw the self-satisfied look off Rachel’s face. The other people at the table were either watching with intensity or pretending the conversation wasn’t happening at all. You hated either reaction. All the memories of hurting Castiel when you told him you were leaving came rushing back to you.

<> <> <>

“I’m moving. I’ve saved up money.”

Castiel’s pulled away from you slightly, a desolate expression on his face. You couldn’t stand knowing that you were about to crush his hopes of the two of you marrying. You didn’t want to hurt him but you knew it was inevitable. His voice was confused, “What do you mean?”

Averting your eyes, you cleared your throat. “Cas… I need to… go.”

He repeated more firmly, “What does that mean?”

“It means I am moving away. I just… I can’t stay here. I feel… suffocated.”

This looked to strike him to his core, his expression distressed. “What about me?”

You felt a need to defend yourself, that he had known that this was coming. “Cas, I told you I was saving up money.”

“Yeah, I know,” Castiel responded, sounding upset. “But I didn’t think you were honestly serious.”

You grabbed his hand and his eyes flicked down at the movement and touch. But he did not return your grasp. “Cas, you are honestly the only good thing about this place anymore. And I would love it if you would go with me. I think it would be good for us. To get away from here and find someplace new. There’s nothing here.”

“Everything is here,” Castiel retorted, still not holding onto your hands.

Sighing, you shook your head, “It’s not enough.” Castiel said nothing and you felt emotions welling up. You whispered, “You won’t go with me?”

“No. I won’t.” This cut you deep. “And you shouldn’t go either. You’re talking crazy. What is out there that you can’t have here? It’s nice here. It’s safe here. All our memories are here. Why would you want to leave?”

“I want more.”

This looked like it cut Castiel deeper than anything had cut you. All you wanted to do was to hold him close and apologize for even suggesting that you wanted to leave. Stating that everything here was enough and you would do anything to stay with him.

But then you thought of the kite. And how it was trapped, tethered to somewhere it desperately wanted to stay away from. You couldn’t get the words out then, no matter how much you wanted to comfort him. He was your world and all you wanted was for him to go with you. But if he didn’t, you would have to make a hard decision.

“I just thought that we were enough for each other.”

“Cas –” you tried but he stood up abruptly.

He stated firmly, “Don’t.” Your heart ached. Tears were brimming his eyes as he stared  you down. He averted his gaze before saying, “You’ve said enough. We’re done. I won’t leave and you want to go. I guess I should have taken you seriously when you told me. You were persistent about it.”

Trying again, you stated, “Castiel, please.”

“No. Just do this the way it should be done. This…. This is it.”

“What? No! This isn’t it! I –”

“You’re trying to make this easy. Well, it’s not going to be easy, Y/N. This isn’t going to pan out smoothly like you hoped. You can’t just come up here and think that I’m going to be okay with telling me you are moving away from here. You know I want to stay here. You know I want to build a life here. With you! And you just want to throw it all away to find something? And you don’t even know what you are looking for!”

Choking back tears, you tried to sound firm but it fell flat, “I know what I want –”

“No, you don’t.” You opened your mouth again to protest but Castiel shut you down. “No, I don’t want to hear it right now. Just… I need to go.”

“Cas,” you said weakly.

But he didn’t listen. He shook his head, tears falling freely before he turned, storming out of the room, leaving you alone.

<> <> <>

Suddenly, the seat sank next to you and you smelled Castiel’s cologne again.

“There’s karaoke planned to be going on later, nightingale. You should do it,” Castiel told you. Your heart clenched hearing the nickname and you looked directly into his eyes, trying to focus. The shots had hit you quickly but even through your state, you could see his eyes were swimming with imbibement as well.

Castiel realized his mistake quickly, his face falling. He opened his mouth, “Y/N… I –”

He didn’t get any more out before you pushed yourself off the seat, mumbling a lame, garbled excuse about going to the bathroom. You needed air. This had been a mistake.

You stumbled through the crowd finding yourself at the bathroom. You collapsed against the sink, leaning on it heavily, breathing rapidly. You needed to calm the fuck down. Don’t lose control of yourself again like you just did. Rachel had wanted to get under your skin and it had worked. You wouldn’t let her win.

There were a good five minutes you spent in the bathroom before you gathered yourself enough to coerce yourself to go back out into the bar.

Castiel was waiting outside the bathroom for you and you felt the resolve to keep yourself together fall apart immediately at the concern in his eyes.

He pushed himself off the wall quickly, rushing to you, his eyes swimming with apology, “Y/N? Are you alright?”

You came at him quickly and he recoiled, looking frightened for a moment. Frightened almost through the whole process of you grabbing his collar and yanking him towards you, pulling him down, smashing your lips up against his. He fell into the kiss quickly, your fingers curling into his collar still, trying to hold him closer to you, making up for lost time.

Castiel let you shove him back against the wall. His tongue slid past yours and you let out a satisfied sigh against him.

Your nose brushed his as you pulled away slightly and you breathed, “We need to leave.”

There was no protest in Castiel as he nodded, still in a daze, not knowing really how to react. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”

That’s all you needed. Your hand was in his, holding tight and you began leading him away from the bathroom and past the people in the hall, towards the main room. Amanda would understand, you knew she would. You knew she had planned on something like this happening the moment you agreed to go to the bar. You would have to thank her later. There was too much between you and Castiel that needed to be settled. And the quickest way to get to the talking points was through physicality.

You caught Rachel’s eyes and held back a smirk. Instead, you pretended your eyes hadn’t landed on her, keeping your expression stoic, before meeting Castiel’s eyes. You allowed yourself then to smile and knew that that would cut deeper. As if she didn’t matter.

Castiel was yours.

~~~

CASTIEL TAGS: @prince-halfblood, @splendidcas, @klaineaholic, @letsthedogpackandthecats, @alexastacio, @winchesterforever12 @seirensou @tacos-and-trenchcoats @the-amaranthine @greenappleeyes @waywardmoeyy @stori-teller @xxslytherinprincessxx @morbid-apricots @xxmizzlexx @cas-honeybee @musicalraven07 @findingfitnessforme  

[stephzyun-blog]

The enduring Dukha, one of the last nomadic reindeer herders in Mongolia

By Stephanie Zheng

The four-wheel drive my friend and I were on hit a bump and for the briefest moment we were airborne, before gravity drew us down unceremoniously onto our seats. Shaken but not stirred, we buckled up for the journey to find and spend some time with the Dukha, one of the last few groups of nomadic reindeer herders in the world.

The Dukha live out their lives alongside reindeer in the northern Khövsgöl aimag of Mongolia. The aimag is further split into the East and West Taiga, with the entire area characterised by an awe-inspiring combination of infinite steppes, pine trees, rolling hills, mountains, steep, rocky slopes, lakes and winding rivers of varying depths.

Thousands of years before, the Dukha dwell in Tuva, a republic southwest of Russia. Due to forced collectivisation and fear of being drafted into the Soviet war they did not ask for, they moved closer to Mongolia, eventually gaining Mongolian citizenship. Their nomadic movement are limited within the area now known as the Tsaagan Nuur (”White Lake”).

Fast forward a century, and a declining community of less than 30 Dukha Tsaatan households now occupy West Taiga. Due to its diverse topography, vehicles steer sensibly clear of the area, which is normally traversed on horseback by the locals and increasingly, on motorbikes.

Our personal bouncy castle (read: the 4WD) could only bring us as far as a Mongolian family’s camp located at the edge of the Tsaagan Nuur, where we would rent horses from. An additional horse guide was needed to guide us through the next leg of our expedition and help provide translation. From there, it would take around one to two days to locate a Dukha family.

After one and a half day of cantering through steepe and fields of wildflowers, crossing rivers and trotting up rocky slopes, we entered a dramatic and Lord-of-the-Ring-esque landscape.

It’s the start of summer but snow still strings the hills, while the nearby lake hasn’t thawed. The weather can get chilly due to the subarctic nature of the region but the relentless afternoon sun keeps the weather at a cool 16-19 degree Celsius. Mongolia receives the most rain during summer, so travellers need to be prepared for sun, rain or hail at a moment’s notice.

It didn’t take long for our guides to lead us to yurts, the telltale sign of a Dukha’s dwelling.

Before long, we found ourselves swept into the life of the modern Dukha, who struggle between keeping their traditions alive and adapting to the world that’s whizzing by them. Here’s a little insight.

An entire family in a single yurt

An entire household usually occupies one yurt and in this camp, five households coexist together peacefully. Pictured below, our host Magsar, his wife Shinae and their daughters Nara and Sara make up the young family who allowed us to stay in their yurt for the night.

Nara and Sara, which means sun and moon respectively in their traditional tongue, behaved just as their name suggests. Nara (in yellow) is a bright ray of sunshine who is always in the center of attention—teasing, demanding, jumping into a picture at any chance and laughing at anything. Younger Sara (in green) is more shy and prefers playing with rocks quietly in a corner, hiding behind her sister and snuggling in the bosom of her father.

Curing reindeer meat on strings

The first thing we saw when we entered their yurt was meat being smoked and cured on strings. Traditionally, what set the Dukha apart from all the other reindeer-herding culture in the world was the fact that they do not eat their meat because the reindeer is seen as part of the family, though the hide and leather could be used to craft clothes, belts and boots. It’s a bit like refusing to eat your uncle and aunt, but being okay with wearing them.

Times have changed since then, and meat is important to survive the -50 degrees Celsius cold Mongolian winter. Our 20-year-old guide Shagai also informed us that Mongolians in general believe in letting animals lead a full lifespan before being slaughtered, a decision likely to be influenced by their religious relationship with nature.

Riding reindeers at a young age, stirrups not needed

It’s not difficult to find young children racing past us on reindeer-back, shouting “Chu! Chu!” as they slap the reindeer’s hind to make them go faster. Younger toddlers are placed behind their older siblings, and before long they too will be able to ride the reindeer confidently.

English lessons for the children

Supported by a government's initiative, children and teens get English lessons from a teacher who lives near their camp. Everyday, Granny helps some of the younger kids onto the reindeer before they ride off to the teacher’s place, around one hour from their camp. 

Protective of their reindeer herds

We arrived just after the calves were just born, and the period during which mama reindeers tend to be overprotective prevented us from getting too near to the herd. Sneakily, we inch slowly towards some of the reindeer, only for the local teen to step in to protect us from them (or maybe it’s the other way round).

The reindeer’s home

Reindeer spend the entire day grazing, roaming far till evening when the men chase after them on horses and herd them back to camp. Gone were the days when each household owned hundreds of reindeer, as forced collectivization in the communism era in Tuva greatly decimated the reindeer’s population in each household.

The Mongolian government has stepped in to import reindeer from nearby regions in order to increase the gene pool of the reindeer, and ensure continuity of the reindeer-herding culture, but nowadays it’s still hard to see any average Dukha household own more than 20 reindeer.

Carving out souvenirs made from reindeer antlers

To supplement his income, our host carved statues out of reindeer antlers to sell to visitors. Selling handmade souvenirs helps the Dukha community earn extra cash to support their families to procure additional rations and equipment that would ease the tough condition of life in the taiga. We understood from him that they receive around a hundred tourists a year, particularly during summer.

Neighbours coming over for a traditional Mongolian card game

On the second day of our stay, neighbouring nomads arrived on horseback to play a traditional card game which bears similarity to poker. The women sat around chatting while the men smoked and played cards.

The Dukha cherubs

One of the most rewarding experience, apart from gaining an insight into how the Dukha live from day-to-day, was mingling with the free-spirited children of the taiga. They embody the resilience of a race that has survived thousands of years in some of the world’s remotest and coldest region.

It’s hard to tell if the children will continue the Dukha’s way of life as too many from each generation have given up the rough uncertainty of nomadic living to assimilate into city life.

But when one of them pulled my hand towards the reindeer, excitedly chattering to me in his native tongue, while another hands me a fist full of the stones she’s sharpened, I cannot thank my lucky stars enough that I’ve had a chance to be there, however brief, in the enduring life of the Dukha.

Photo: Nicole Ang

Photo: Nicole Ang

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Short Story 03

-Inspired on true events-

Los Angeles, California.

And the police never came. The girls were scared to death at first, but cried for laughter the minute they knew what really happened.

It was April, season were California becomes the spotlight for music lovers. Where influencers, instagramers and any other type of millennial celebrity chooses their best hippie-chic outfit to go take selfies in Coachella and dance to the most mainstream music. A time to inhale cheerful vibes, when the summer gives it’s firsts steps making the weather perfect to enjoy an exciting three day festival. By that time, while playing some local classics like The Doors, these two argentinian girls started their adventurous road trip through the routes of the West Coast. Since then, a bunch of exquisite moments come into being. As a friend once said: 

“In the city of L.A In the city of good ol' Watts In the city, the city of Compton We keep it rockin”, California Love by 2pac.

But not all that glitters is gold... after days of having fun, drinking wine and attend to epic hip hop gigs, their last night in Los Angeles burst with a series of frightening unfortunate events.

Let’s start from the beginning of the end. The story is about two mid-twenties girls, who came from a land far, far away - well not that far, I meant to be poetic but Buenos Aires is just a couple of hours flight- to enjoy the dreamy city of Los Angeles. They rented an Airbnb in Fairfax District, located a few blocks from The Grove shopping mall, a pretty cool area actually. It was a big two bedroom apartment, luminous with big windows in the living room and an impeccable nice view. They were supposed to stay there until they flew back home. On saturday morning, they woke up early to seas the day, they had plans to spend some golden hours wandering around the outstanding Malibu beaches. Minutes before taking off, without another apparent reason more than a hunch, one of them took her phone to check the emails and saw a message from the apartment owner. It went something like this: “Girls, the cleaning lady is waiting for you to go so as to organize the apartment for our next guests. Let me know when you leave the keys on the front door. Thanks!”. When she read it, her face went pale and immediately took her iPhone calendar to check the dates. Her eyes wide opened as realizing she and her friend were completely wrong since it was scheduled to leave the flat that day. And they did it in a blitz.

No hesitations, they packed her stuff in a rush and left. Wherever they put foot a bad mood cloud could be seen from miles, angry with no other than themselves and carrying their entire lives in their bags, they went to have a matcha latte at Whole Foods. They couldn't even speak, not because they were mad at each other but due to the feeling of stupidity that  surpassed them. While having mini pretzels they found a super nice apartment in an online renting web. It was located in the Beverlywood neighborhood next to Beverly Hills, it was kind of suspiciously cheap for the cool photos shown. With haste and without laps, after a simple click they had a place to spend the night.

Half an hour later they arrived to the direction given, still curiously nobody was there. The sun was burning the girls’ white skins during some eternal minutes as they waited for the owner to show. Suddenly, a peculiar woman in a black long dress, with suspicaz look in her eyes, appeared walking towards the place. Once next to the girls, while trying to open the building door, slowly turned her head towards them and asked:

Resting bitch-face lady: “Who are you waiting for?”

The brunette girl: “The apartment owner”

Resting bitch-face lady: “Why? are you moving here?”

The blonde girl: “No, we are staying just for the night”

Abysmal resting bitch-face lady: “Airbnb is prohibited here. You are not staying, I’m calling the police”, she added as she crossed the door and slammed it in their faces.

They were stunned, speechless, without knowing what to think more than that something very strange was going on. The street was empty, so empty that the girls could listen loudly to their own anxious heavy breathings. Okay, not that empty, they saw a man who walked twice in the same block and watched them every time he passed by. After two or three deep sighs, when about to leave, a mid thirties man came from around the corner calling her names. Looked like a regular guy, with kind of geeky vibes and weird from the top to the bottom beige clothing.

Nerd looking guy: “Hi, sorry for the delay”

-Received no answer from the other side-

Nerd looking guy: “I gave you the wrong address, i’m so sorry for that too. The apartment is a few blocks from here, we can walk… let me help you with the baggage”.

The argentinians with the worst and coldest look: “You gave us the wrong address? How come!? Uhmm That’s weird”.

He gave a shitty explanation on how the community manager working for them got it all wrong and messed up with the direction. The girls did not believe it so easily, but they were so tired that agreed to go with him, leaving the situation to God’s will.

Within a 5 minute walk, not a soul in the streets, they arrived to a small building. The guy who couldn’t stop talking about unimportant stuff, lead the girls in to their apartment. Detail by detail he explained every little thing about the place. No words heard from them, their attention quickly dispersed wishing for him to finally stop talking. A while later he miraculously ended and after exchanging phone numbers, for the relief of the girls, he finally left. To make the situation more weird, while unpacking, they saw labels in all the furniture like if they were recently bought, like if no one would’ve ever step foot in the place... A lot of terrible things crossed their minds, what if this place did not existed before? Is not an Airbnb at all? Just a place dressed up like a sweet home but meant to kidnap innocent tourists?. “Haha that’s too much”, said one of the girls laughing. Even though knowing they were maybe embellishing the situation, genuinely dramatic, they did not want to stay much longer and went off to the beach with one song on repeat in their minds:

"All I am is a man

I want the world in my hands

I hate the beach

But I stand in California with my toes in the sand", Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood.

It was too late then, so instead of going to Malibú, they spent a not so chilling time in Santa Mónica. The peer was disappointing, dirty and invaded with cheesy tourists carrying their big cameras with cheap lenses. What made it worst, they saw how a man was having heavy convulsions on the floor, yelling the names of dead historic hip hop artists (Yeah, WTF). And what did make it even worse, there was a man standing like a statue staring at this ‘crazy’ screaming dude, and who he was you may wonder? The same who passed by a couple of times, watching them back in Beverlywood. Gave them the creeps!

They got back around 7pm, the sun was about to vanish when one of the girls said: “I need red wine, a whole bottle”... And that’s how the second part of the thrilling adventure begun. Once again, the neighborhood was weirdly empty, block by block everything seemed to be dead and that desired red was nowhere to find. A whole hour of intensely and almost desperately searching passed as quickly as the blink of an eye. Whilst the alcohol detectives were in duty, a glorious super small and almost hidden liquor store appeared. They got the wine, but spoiler alert: the happy beam in their faces did not last long.

Both ran out of battery, no phones meant no maps… no maps meant: “How the hell are we going to find our way back to the apartment?”. One of the girls shook her head and said: “Don´t worry, it’s easy, I think I remember”. The sun came down completely as they walked in circles for half an hour. How to describe the desperation that was growing inside of them, like a fire in the stomach mixed with deep cold sweat rolling down the neck, symptoms that combined nervousness and fear. But please, stop crying your heart out, the solution was about to come. For second time, the sky opened and a spotlight went down to show them the glorious solution: A Starbucks Coffee to charge their iPhones. Of course, due to the time, it was closing its doors. Like cry babies they asked for the biggest and life savior favor, simply to open the door and give them some energy. And so it happened. “Thank you super handsome Thor for showing us the path”, they prayed. The phone turned on and the route magically showed up.

Finally they arrived, breathless, with the feeling of being followed, but safe and sound. Although this sounded mega exhausting, just wait to read what happened next.

Saturday, around 9pm, the girls started packing the luggage as they were leaving early in the morning. Tired? Nah… They were definitely going out, nothing could ruined their last night in the city of angels. They had plans to meet up with some local friends at the indie-cool club named Tenants of the Trees at around 11pm. Also, above important, it was their last dinner, what undoubtedly did they ordered? To be faithful to all the movies they ever saw in their lives, they called Domino’s Pizza.

Lana del Rey as background music, chilling vibes all over the place and a wine bottle waiting to be opened… one of the girls went to take a bath while the other was waiting for the double cheese non spicy pizza to come. As you can expect, this nice atmosphere did not last long, one more setback was around the corner. When the girl realized they had no corkscrews, she sighed annoyingly, took her phone and write to the owner asking if there was any bottle opener in the place, having no answer at all. She was determined to drink that damned red, so, she put some blue jeans on and went down the hallway to knock door by door, no matter what she was going to find or who was going to run into. It was a long dark hallway, it was impossible not to think of films like The Shining, for example. One, two, even three doors and nothing, there was cemetery silence. She kind of panicked a little because clearly there was nobody in the entire floor, they were all alone in a place they did not know, in a dim neighborhood and in an apartment that looked pretty much like taken out from The Truman Show. Run baby run, after having all that thoughts invading her head she looked around and rushed faster than ever.

When she got to the apartment, she locked the door and tried to shake off that odd sensation left in her body. By that moment, the doorbell rang so loud that made her jumped almost half a meter. "Domino's Pizza", a voice intoned. That simple phrase was like music to her ears, hunger won any other feeling she could had. That's how the hungry lady took the keys and ran downstairs. The main hall had a big glass door through from you could see the street, so the minute she got there, saw there was no pizza man at all. "Maybe he's in a car outside", naively said to herself. Once again, the goddamn hungry girl, went out alone to the street hoping to find that die for fast food. Oh boy! She was all alone again but this time outside in the darkness without her phone. She heard a crunchy noise in the corner, a couple of meters away, automatically she turned to see who or what it was. What do you think? Noup, not the delivery guy, it was the creepy guy again! The one that mysteriously appeared everywhere that day. He was in his middle 50s, had white hair, pale face, was a little chubby and looked like a Yeezy fan -Kanye West's clothing brand- because all of his clothes were ripped. Or maybe he was a homeless, a crackhead, something totally common to strike in L.A. Now she was truly scared, as he passed through her, she intended not to move or even breath. Unfortunately, the freakish stopped walking and stayed in her flat, to fan the flames, he had a bunch of keys in his hand with which he tried one by one to open the door. A tear rolled over the girl's cheek, over dazed she saw death. What to do? Well, she decided to act like nothing happened planning to get in to the place and not let him enter. Once she gave a step, the man put his gaze on her and asked with a peculiar and friendly voice: "Hi lady, do you live here?". The chat went something like this…

Scared girl: "No, I'm just waiting for my boyfriend". With deep fear in the tone she continued "You might know him, he goes by the name Harry Styles". (Lol just kidding, the Harry part did not happen).  

Creepy guy: "Oh, cuz I'm looking for two friends… you maybe saw them. They are argentinians...Are you one of them?"

Super mega scared girl: (Swallows) "What? No, uhmm I'm from here, I definitely don't know what you are talking about and really, sir, I can't help you".

Even creepier guy: "Okay, they are in the third floor, apartment E, can you let me in? I need to get in".

WTF he knew exactly were they were staying, her mind went blank and had no words to say more than speak up her last wish. What would that be? Perhaps, let her eat the last pizza. Oh wait! Where was the pizza guy? Was even real that he came? Wondrously in that exact moment, he came into view, he was walking from inside the building. The girl's head almost exploded in a thousand pieces, how could that be possible. She approached the door, went pretty close to it so the second the delivery boy opened it she could enter speedy without letting the other one in. Clap, clap, clap, her plan succeed. She did not let the man in but did not let the pizza guy leave either. "Excuse me I have to go", Domino's said. "No please, that man outside is creeping the hell out of me, stay while I go for my phone and call the police", she begged. "Sorry I can’t, I have to deliver these pizzas and go home", not a bit kindly he replied. "Okay go, but give my pizza first", she ordered while he assured he had already delivered her stupid pizza. She grabbed the door and slammed it as hard as she could in the disturbing guy's nose, as he yelled to let him in with his fist hitting the glass.

An intense noise came about when the man broke the door, little sharp pieces spread all over like confetti in a piñata. Suspense classical music was playing from who knows where. She was already in the elevator, its door was about to close when a knife appeared to stop it with the intention of not letting it go. She closed her green eyes and counted to three. Once opened, the man was not there, the music was not on and the elevator was clear. She imagined the scene so vividly that genuinely thought it was real.

The elevator arrived to the third floor -Ding- it went as it swished opened. She ran into the apartment, locked the door and exclaimed: “Call 911!”. The place looked like a murder scene, her friend struggled to open the wine bottle hitting it from the bottom with a Nike sneaker. It worked yet not as expected, the cork came out yeah, but a huge amount of the liquid fell on the carpet leaving a stain that hinted like a bloodbath on the floor. On the top of everything, Domino’s Pizza was served on the table. Everything was so fucked up that she didn’t even dare to ask how on earth the delivery entered the building and went upstairs in a matter of seconds, without running into her. Total and completely mind blown. However, she focused on the actual problem: “There’s a guy, the one we saw a couple of times today, in the door asking for us… he wants to get in, he wants to kill us or rob or rape us. IDK call the police right now”, desperately cried. She could not finished talking when the doorbell started ringing incessantly. Deeply frightened, they looked at each other and screamed loudly. They knew they were alone in the entire place, so nobody would listen their crave for help. While the bell went on ringing, they called the police. “911 what’s your emergency”, the operator cinematographically went whilst her friend was thinking how to tell the story. “Just tell them there’s a crazy person threatening our lives”, the girl yelled to her friend, who did it with a trembling voice. Unluckily they hung up on them, twice in a row. Could this be worst? Definitely. The bell stopped, letting a deep uncomfortable silence posses the room. Suddenly footsteps and other messed up noises came from outside, like if the psycho was trying to get in by reaching the window. Still in shock, after shutting the curtains, with a knife in one hand they sat down on the floor to take another shot in calling the police. Can you believe they never answer nor came? Sadly astonishing.

“Let's think straight, maybe is your phone that’s not working so let’s make the call from mine. Or I can tell Ben (a local friend) to send help!”, she whispered. “Yeah but quiet please”, the blond one replied while nodding his head. So she silently crawled to the other room, unplugged the phone and when the screen went bright she saw a million messages coming from the apartment owner.

9:21 pm: “Hi, sorry we don’t have a corkscrew. Do you need it right now?”

9:35 pm: “Hey, do you still need it?”

9:40 pm: “Stay alert, I’m sending you one”.

9:50 pm: “Heeeeeey. Alfred is at the door, he has the corkscrew. Can you open him?”

9:51 pm: “Don’t worry, he is my partner… Are you in the apartment right now?”

10:21pm: “We don’t need it anymore, we went out for dinner… please tell him to leave”, the girl wrote after taking a relief breath.

She grabbed her head and called her friend, who went desperately running to see what was going on. Without any sound coming out from her mouth, she showed the messages and asked her if they should believe all this. Everything was so weird, the guy looked so strange… Why did they run into him several times that day? Why he did not say he had a corkscrew? Or even better question, why he did not have it when the girl saw him?

Despite the many ends to tie, they both calmed down and decided to ‘believe’ the owner, maybe they had no other choice, no friends or family close, no police to the rescue.

"Down on the West Coast they got a sayin. If you're not drinkin' then you're not playin', West Coast - Lana del Rey. Ergo, the only thing left to do, the only reasonable choice was to drink that problematic wine till it was over, eat the cold pizza, cried for laughter and go out till dawn. And so it be!

They left the next morning, joking about the mistaken situation, rejoicing at the great tragi-comic anecdote they could now tell everyone back home.

A week later, among a beautiful stormy grey morning in Buenos Aires, one of the girls was reading an online magazine when an article headline captured her attention. She numbed, as she took her hand to her mouth with surprise, the toast she was eating fell down on the side fully loaded of raspberry jam, Murphy's law of course. “Los Angeles, California: Two men arrested for robbery, sexual abuse and fraud”, followed by a picture of two terrifying men. Yes, of course, one was whom rented them the place and the other, the stalker.