#or more rum I guess live your best life I'm not your dad

[blujayonthewing]

The Presto Continues

I think I may have said last time I was at the final iteration BUT!! I lied I already knew I still wanted to tinker with it, lmao. This version is still not QUITE there but we're close, lads, I can taste it. ALSO, I've acquired silly straws, which may be the most important ingredient. Also also, I'm looking forward to making this with enough foresight that I set up a nice place to take a picture and actually use a good camera, because it's very pretty :D

THE CURRENT RECIPE:

2oz dragonberry rum

1oz lemon juice (1/2 a lemon)

6oz sprite

1/2oz uv blue raspberry vodka, infused with butterfly peaflowers

Star fruit, lemon twists, and a silly straw

Edible luster dust (optional)

Shake rum and lemon juice with ice and strain into a hurricane glass. Add sprite and enough fresh ice to almost fill the glass, then top with infused vodka, using the straw to stir carefully-- preferably with an audience to delight and amaze with the mystical magical color change (which you should hype up as much as possible for the duration). Garnish with star fruit and twists of lemon peel that you made way too long because you got a little too excited making them.

The only problem with this one is it's too tart! That actually might hit the spot for some people-- it's perfectly drinkable as-is, but for what I'm conceptually going for it definitely needs to be sweeter. I thought going in that that might be the case, but I'd hoped the soda would be sweet enough to carry the extra citrus-- alas. I'm gonna try just adding an amount(?) of simple syrup next time, and I may also cut back the lemon juice to half an ounce?

Upsides of this edition: it's definitely prettier with the sprite! Not only does the clear, fizzy drink have a nicer overall look than the lemonade, it also ended up being a prettier shade of purple, even with the same amount of the vodka. And like I've been saying, this drink conceptually really did just need to be carbonated. Sprite is also great as an ingredient because multiple single servings can sit on the floor in the pantry almost indefinitely until I happen to need some, unlike fresh real lemonade, haha. Another unexpected upside is that this is now different enough from the accidental variant I made that one time that they now feel like legitimate variations on the same theme, instead of just 'one of them is the lazy 2 am not wanting to use a shaker version' lol

[distant-rose-archive-blog]

I'm living for your little pirates verse! What about Wes being jealous about Beth being born and Harrison comforting him?

Thank you so much for being a fan of my Little Pirates series. I’m really glad that people are enjoying my darlings. With that being said, your prompt is a little on the tricky side, mainly because when Beth is born, Harrison is 4 years old and Wes is 2 years old, and while Wes is totally capable of being jealous of Beth, I don’t think Harrison is quite old enough to provide that comfort for him yet. So, for this one, I’ve decided to venture outside the Little Pirates side of this universe and into the Ever After side, which is all stories about Harrison, Wes and Beth when they’re older and very much coming into their own as people. So in this one, Harrison is roughly 31, Wes is 29 and Beth is 27. It’s mainly focused on Harrison and Wes reminiscing on their childhood and comparing it to Harrison’s own children in regards to jealously. Anyway, spoilers (I guess?) to the fates I have designed for all three of them. So here’s 3,600+ words on older!Harrison and older!Wes talking about…a variety of things but mainly childhood jealous towards siblings (thanks Laura for letting me bounce ideas for this prompt off you. you’re my mvp.)

Wes Jones arrived at the Rabbit Hole early Friday afternoon for his night shift to see his older brother Harrison sitting at the bar, a row of rum glasses in front of him. Wes raised his eyebrows, assessing the scene with increasing curiosity. Harrison, ever the black sheep in the Jones family, was never much of a rum drinker. That honor normally was bestowed upon their younger sister who drank rum like it was water. Harrison was very much a beer guy and generally stuck to his lagers the same way he stuck to his calf brown bomber jacket, which was to almost absurd daily routine.

If Harrison was drinking rum, it normally meant he was upset about something, but what he could be so upset about, Wes didn’t know. Harrison had his life put together. He had taken over for their mother as sheriff of Storybrooke, married a smoking hot Princess of Agrabah and had three adorable children, one of which was newly born. Harrison was the picture of stability; an unmovable, unshakeable mountain. Wes, on the other hand, was a volcano ready to erupt; half in love with the mother of his daughter, half in love with his childhood best friend, his music store was barely afloat and he could barely keep up with all the requests for magic thrown his way now that the citizens of Storybrooke realized that they now had options in regard to local magic users. All and all, Wes was amateur juggler playing with chainsaws instead of plush balls and he had far too many of them in the air.

“What do we do with drunken sailor? What do we do with a drunken?” Wes sang as he approached his brother, swinging himself over the bar and offering Harrison his signature smirk.

“Hilarious,” Harrison replied with a roll of his eyes as he threw back another glass of rum.

“You know for someone who doesn’t like being compared to Dad, you are doing an amazing rendition of Killian Jones right now. I mean, honestly, the resemblance from the face and scowl right down to the throwing back rum shots like it’s water…I’m just so impressed right now.”

“You are literally the worst bartender I’ve ever come across in my life,” Harrison replied with a roll of his eyes and if Wes was feeling a little more dick-ish, he would have taken that moment to point out that the eye roll was also very their father.

It wasn’t that Harrison didn’t like their father, quite the opposite in fact. Harrison admired the man, but he didn’t necessarily want to be him or the expectations that came with being Killian Jones. The citizens of Storybrooke however? They never seem to get that memo and loved to regale on the fact that Harrison strongly resembled their father. It always had amused Wes that they thought that. Sure, they looked similar, but that was as far as the resemblance went. Harrison was more of the same vein as their Grandfather David personality wise - morally upstanding, dependable, loyal and a tad self-righteous. It was Beth really who was all Killian Jones from her excessive use of manipulative charm to the fact she was an actual goddamn pirate complete with her own ship, adventures and a goddamn pirate husband/boyfriend/fuck buddy/whatever the hell Jim Hawkins was.

Wes, on the other hand, took after no one really in particular. He was the wild card and had always relished in that role. He never felt the need to live up or live down any one’s legacy; it gave him a sense of freedom to do with himself as he pleased. Maybe that’s why his life was comparative to a dumpster fire.

“I’m probably maybe one out of like five bartenders that you actually know, so it’s not like you have a huge pool to pick from,” Wes replied, focusing his attention on dirty glasses that were littering his side of the bar. Honestly, the new kids they kept hiring were sloppy as hell and he was getting too old for this.

Harrison frowned for a moment as if he had never thought about it before. Wes didn’t understand how he didn’t because aside from occasional cross-realm trips, they didn’t leave Storybrooke much. There was just too much going on in this ridiculous small town for either of them to leave. Sometimes, Wes envied his sister in that regard. She was the one that got away.

“You might actually be right there.”

“I know I’m right,” Wes replied with a tiny smirk. “But that doesn’t tell me what you’re doing at the bar at 4:30 in the afternoon when you have a gorgeous wife, two cute rascally sons and a painfully adorable newborn daughter at home…”

“I needed a break,” Harrison said after a moment, staring down at the bar like he was ashamed to admit it. “I need a break from everything and that’s why I came here…to unwind a bit…I guess.”

Wes nodded like he understood, which of course he didn’t. When Wes wanted to unwind and take a break from the world, he would get drunk by himself, eat cheerios out of the cereal box and watch whatever trashy reality television show his television had to offer. He didn’t go to public establishments where other people could see and, even worse, talk to him. However, that was all a matter of personal temperament. Harrison actually liked being around people, craved it even. Wes, more or less, was tolerant of people at best and while he occasionally enjoyed company, he could do without.

“Unwinding is something I can understand,” Wes said finally after a small silence fell between the two brothers. “But what the hell do you need unwinding from, Superman?”

As he glanced up from the glasses, Wes caught their reflection in the mirror located on the wall behind Harrison’s head. Night and day, they were both in coloring and demeanor and Wes was always reminded of it whenever he saw pictures of them together. Harrison had taken their father’s looks and darker coloring while Wes had taken after their mother with his near-white blonde hair and pale skin, but on the inside they were reversed. Harrison was, unfailingly, light in heart and in deed. Wes had some shadows on his soul and more than a few dark spots on his heart. He never pretended to be a saint however. No, Wes Jones wasn’t always the nicest guy on the block, but he never pretended to be otherwise.

“Sami and Kam are being awful about the new baby,” Harrison finally replied, breaking Wes from his morose thoughts, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes. “Every time Kam sees us looking after Hana, he throws a fit, starts crying and will cling to us for hours. Sami asked me the other day if we could give her back and get a puppy instead.”

“Oh,” Wes blinked for a moment and then gave his brother a casual shrug. “They’re just jealous. It’s normal.”

“Normal?” Harrison looked incredulous. “How is that normal? Shouldn’t they be excited? She’s new and she’s their sister. Hell, I was excited when you guys came around.”

“Well, that’s because you’re a freak of nature, Superman,” Wes replied with a roll of his eyes. He just couldn’t help it. Of course, Harrison wouldn’t understand the concept of sibling jealously. He had been the golden boy when they were growing up. He never had to really compete the same way that Wes had to. Middle child syndrome was a very real thing and Wes had never felt a bigger kinship to his nephew Kam than he did that moment. The poor kid was going to have to deal with Sami as the oldest and Hana as the youngest. “It’s normal to hate your siblings. I mean I hated Beth for the longest time when we were little. Bitch got away with everything when we were kids. Still does.”

“You hated Beth? But you guys were close growing up,” Harrison said, staring at Wes like he had been replaced with an alien. On some days, Wes wished that was true particularly on days when he and his ex-girlfriend Bobbi couldn’t decide on a schedule in regards to their two year old daughter Gina.

“We were close when we were teenagers,” Wes corrected. “Because Beth kinda became cool about things and you weren’t, but when we were little, I kinda hated her because she was the baby and everyone adored her, especially Dad. Beth could have committed murder and Dad would have still looked at her like the sun rose and fall on her ass.”

“You say that like you never got away with anything,” Harrison responded, taking his last glass and draining it. He then made a gesture for Wes to pour him another line.

Wes paused for a moment, studying his older brother. He got just gotten to the bar and Harrison had seven glasses in front of him. Harrison was a relatively large guy who would look comfortable on a college football line and he could certainly hold his liquor, but Wes wasn’t sure exactly how many shots he had prior to the seven empties. To be safe and somewhat responsible for once (irony of this was not lost on him), Wes poured his older brother a pint of lager instead. Harrison scowled in response, but said nothing about the change.

“I did get away with things, but it wasn’t because I was the “baby” like she was. I got away with things because I got good at getting around everyone and it’s easy to ignore the middle child. Especially in our family. I mean you were the golden boy. Beth was Daddy’s little sweetheart. Me? I was just the bad kid. The disappointment. Still kinda am,” Wes replied honestly.

“Please tell me that you don’t believe the proverbial pile of shit you just laid on this bar.” Harrison slammed his fist down on the bartop and the sound of it thundered throughout the Rabbit Hole. A few patrons a few seats away looked at Harrison in a mixture of fear and startlement. They took their drinks and located to another table. Smart people. Harrison was known for breaking things when he wasn’t being careful and breaking a bar top would not be out of character for him.

“It’s not shit. It’s the truth,” Wes replied. “I mean, look at you. You’re Sheriff and you’re married to your true love and you’ve got three beautiful if slightly bratty children. And Beth? Beth’s gonna surpass Dad as scourge of the seas, she’s been to more realms than probably everyone that has ever existed and she’s got Jim fucking Hawkins wrapped around her finger. We won’t even touch Henry because he’s just a level of perfection that not even you, the golden Jones boy, can obtain. Me? I’m just-“

“The most powerful magic user in Storybrooke who has surpassed the Dark One, Regina, Gideon and Bobbi in ability if anyone in this damn town would be honest about it. You’re the most cunning and adaptable man who can survive anything that’s thrown at him and not in the bullshit way that Dad survives strictly because Mom won’t lie him die, I mean, like actually survives through sheer force of will and wit. You’re also the most honest man I know. You’ve never pretended to be anything you weren’t. You never tried to be perfect. You were always true to who you were and I admire you for that,” Harrison said fiercely looking Wes straight in the eye. “And you’re absolutely the best father that Gina could ever ask for and she looks at you like you are her biggest hero and you are. She could not have asked for a better father.”

“I’m pretty sure that Gideon might be slightly higher on the Best Dad scale than me,” Wes answered quietly, looking anywhere but at his brother because he honestly can’t handle the emotions that are welling up inside of him. Wes was never big on handling emotions. Emotions weren’t his department. Sarcasm, anger and lust were things he understood and he could handle those three. Anything else was foreign territory.

“No, you’re Gina’s world,” Harrison asserted and the sincerity in his voice made Wes want to crawl in a hole and die. “Seriously, I don’t understand where all of this is coming from, Wes. You’ve always been the cool one out of all of us. You were incredibly popular in school. Everyone always turns to you when they need help, myself included, and I don’t think there’s anyone in this town wouldn’t drop everything to jump in bed with you…still. Honestly, it’s ridiculous how many girls, guys and whatever would line up at the chance just to talk to you.”

“That’s because you would never give them the time of day and I would, Har. Every girl in high school used to look at you and you never noticed. How you managed to realize that Nasira was into you, I will never know…” Wes replied, shifting uncomfortably.

“Well, she made herself very clear,” Harrison replied with a heavy blush that piqued Wes’s curiosity. Perhaps he needed to pay his sister-in-law a visit and ply her with some good wine to get the story out of her. “And it’s not that I didn’t notice…I did…it’s just…”

Harrison trailed off and decided to finish his beer in a fashion that Wes could only describe as speed chugging. Wes waited patiently for him to finish and when Harrison slammed the glass down, Wes immediately took it and started to clean it instead of pouring another. Harrison gave him a dark look.

“You didn’t finish your story,” Wes explained. “And you’re not getting another beer until you tell me why you never hooked up with anyone outside of Nasira.”

“You really want to know?” Harrison looked down at his hands, color rising high in his cheeks. “The real reason is because whenever anyone looks at me they don’t see me. They see Dad. And one time, at party, I was kissing this girl and she called me Hook.”

Wes couldn’t help the disbelieving laugh that escaped his throat. He stepped back, his arms spread protectively across his stomach in hopes that he wouldn’t bust a gut from the force of his laughter. Harrison glowered at him, obviously not happy with his brother’s response to the confession.

“No! That didn’t happen!” Wes snickered, wiping the tears that had sprung from his eyes.

“It did,” Harrison responded grimly.

“Oh man, oh man.” Wes shook his head, trying to stave off his laughter. “Oh god, that…that’s both the most hilarious and the most disturbing thing I have ever heard in my life. I hope you discussed that trauma in therapy.”

“I did. Still do in fact,” Harrison responded. “Archie and I have discussed it much at length. I think he’s almost as disturbed by it as I am.”

“Jesus,” Wes shaking his head as he picked up a glass and poured his brother another beer. He deserved it after that big reveal. He’s not sure he would have survived if the same ordeal had happened to him. It explained so much about his older brother and why he had been so gun shy around women and so uncomfortable taking comments about his appearance. “I gotta know though. Who was it?”

“I’m never telling you that. It will literally change your entire perception of her and I don’t think I can do that to you because once I say it, you won’t be able to think of anything else,” Harrison replied.

“Do I even want to know what you lads are talking about?” Killian Jones asked his sons as he sat down at the bar next to Harrison, regarding both of his sons with an arched eyebrow. Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.

Harrison and Wes exchanged a look as they regarded their father. Wes couldn’t help letting out one last snicker and Harrison gave him murderous look over his pint glass, silently warning him that he wasn’t afraid to pick up his younger brother and toss him over his head WWE style. Wes took the message to heart. He knew better than to test Harrison who could probably bench press twice Wes’s weight.

“We were just discussing Harrison’s brat problem,” Wes said casually as he poured his father two fingers worth of rum and passed him the glass casually. “Sami and Kam aren’t happy about little baby Hana. They’re a bit jealous.”

“Ah. That’s normal. It will pass. Both of you didn’t take too kindly to new additions,” Killian responded as he took the glass, tipped his head in thanks and took a healthy drink. The old pirate smacked his lips a bit as the liquor went down his throat and Wes someday hoped to get on his father’s drinking level.

“Wait! Both of us? I thought Harrison was all excited for us,” Wes remarked, glancing at Harrison out of the corner of his eyes. Harrison looked confused by his father’s comments, thick eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement.

“He was excited about Beth because Beth was a girl and he didn’t have to share his toys like he did with you,” Killian corrected, fixing them both with a small smirk. “Harrison nearly threw a riot when we came home with you and refused to even look at you. He hid all of his toys for weeks because he thought you were going to steal them.”

“And right, I was,” Harrison muttered under this breath. “I never got the firetruck back.”

“Oh, fucking hell! You’re not bringing up the firetruck again! I honestly have no recollection of a firetruck! You cannot keep giving that up, Har! You’re thirty-one fucking years old!” Wes responded in annoyance, raking his hands through his long blonde hair in frustration.

“The firetruck?” Killian frowned for a moment. “You mean the one that Dave got you when you were five that made the siren noises and lit up? I hated that thing. I threw it out. That thing was a menace.”

“So I actually didn’t steal it?” Wes blurted out the question before he could even think. He cringed internally at how that question sounded. “So Harrison has been holding this over my head for years for no reason?”

“Not the firetruck no, but you did take a lot of things from Harrison and Harrison hid a lot of things from you. Your mother likes to call it call the Four Years Treasure Hunt whenever we talk about it. However, we’re getting off topic with this firetruck nonsense,” their father remarked, giving them both pointed look over his glass. “The point is that it’s completely normal for kids to be jealous of new arrivals in the family and it’s your job as parents to remind them that new additions aren’t going to replace them or take their toys or whatever the issue is.”

“How do you suppose we do that, oh wise silver fox?” Wes asked with a raised eyebrow and Harrison nearly choked on his beer. He glared at Wes as he coughed, giving himself a thump on the chest.

Killian set his glass down and Wes watched as his eyebrow rose nearly to his hairline in response to the name that he had been given. His blue eyes darted between his sons as if he was trying to discern what exactly he had missed prior to his arrival to the bar. Half of Wes wanted to tell his father Harrison’s story just to see his reaction, the other half that desperately wanted to live to see Gina graduate from high school knew to refrain.

“I’m not going to even question where that came from,” Killian responded finally. “I’m going to stay on track here and just advise you to bloody talk to your children and let them know that they’re still special and have a place in the family. Maybe even find an activity to bond over. I would like to think I at least tried to bond with you lads.”

“You did. We just sucked at sword fighting,” Harrison responded with a casual shrug. “Though learning to sail was pretty cool growing up. I’m just hoping Beth doesn’t steal the Jolly before my kids are old enough to learn too. You did good, Dad. If I’m half the father you were, my kids will turn out alright.”

“Beth isn’t stealing the Jolly anytime soon. Beth also isn’t going anywhere anytime soon either so you can relax on that,” Killian replied cryptically. Harrison and Wes looked at each other in puzzlement over that statement, but when their father didn’t elaborate, they let it drop.

“Suck up. Thirty-one years old and you’re still sucking up to Dad,” Wes responded with an affectionate eye roll. There was no heat behind his words. “Though, all kidding aside, yeah. You did pretty okay considering the three hellions you were dealt. I mean Henry is the biggest success out of all of us, but I’m not sure he counts in this regard because he was what? Ten? When you met?”

“He counts and you’re all successes,” Killian responded in a tone that brokered no argument. He flourished it with an eye roll of his own and for a moment Wes considered that he might actually have inherited something from the old man. “Now, the lot of you need to stop focusing on the past and focus on your lives as present. Harrison, your wife just had a baby two weeks. Go home and be with them. Talk to your boys and tell them to that their sister isn’t going to replace them. If they don’t listen, send them my way and Grandpa will spoil them for a day. And you!”

He cut his eye towards Wes for a moment and gave him a grave expression. Wes felt a lecture coming and braced himself for it.

“Stop taking Friday night and weekend shifts at this shithole,” Killian said seriously. “You have a daughter now. You need to spend time with her or you’re going to miss everything. I know that you and Bobbi have brought Gideon into the fold for raising her, but she’s your kid, Wes. You need to step it up. Do I make myself clear, lads?”

Harrison and Wes shared a look for a moment before responding. It seemed parenting didn’t necessarily stop when your children were grown. “Yes, Captain.”