#the thing about absinthe is: even if you are doing it properly I imagine it's going to be a very polarizing flavor profile

[blujayonthewing]

'I tried this straight up when I first got it and it was horrific, so, then I looked up how to do it properly but I am not at all excited to try this'

okay is there someone who likes absinthe I can talk to,

this is such a stupid intersection of niche nerd problems but there exists an officially licensed skooma absinthe that is red and comes in a purple jug but it is not only Premium Alcohol Priced, it is also made in the UK and costs as much to ship as it does to buy, so it's not really justifiable as a fun lil treat at that price point, and all the reviews I've seen of it so far have been by Video Game People rather than Pretentious Alcohols People so they don't actually know how to correctly drink absinthe

[uraharashouten]

 [[ from here ]]

@adelha-mathilde

Aqua gives a happy trill to watch as Urahara headed for the tablet. Her plop onto the floor soon followed by the kitten chasing his left foot to then pounce on it the moment he stops moving. Her little tongue licking in between his toes as she lays right on his foot for maximum tickles.

The tablet background is revealed to be a photograph of a cliffside by the sea. Probably the famous Cliffs of Moher in Ireland. The videos recorded labeled by date and time to keep things somewhat organized. So it’s easy for Urahara to see that there were several videos recorded that night. The first one being of Adelha serving Urahara dinner in her pristine kitchen. That consisting of beef brisket with red potato salad and corn on the cob. Their drinks looking to be some kind of mead for Aqua to try sniffing Adelha’s glass before making the cutest ‘Yuck!’ face imaginable. Urahara’s snicker audible on the video for Adelha to scoop the kitten up and give her a kiss on the head. Four Tibetan Mastiff puppies nibbling on their kibble as Adelha turns the camera to them. Urahara soon saying how they have good appetites after such grueling play time. Adelha humming a happy notation to comment that they are good puppies.

The second video consists of Urahara and Adelha sitting on the back porch from the look of things. Their Furby friend lounging on the lounge chair as Adelha brushes the biggest Tibetan Mastiff that is basically in her lap. Urahara currently brushing a very growling Aqua as she does her absolute best to fight the brush. While another man is sitting with two of the Tibetan Mastiffs. That person being a broad man with a mohawk. Adelha speaking to him to call him Claude. Which means he is Go Koga of the Bounts. His stoic expression softening as he says something to Adelha in German. Urahara giving a laugh when Aqua ends up hopping out of his lap to steal the brush right out of his hand. Dragging the brush away to drop it off the back porch and purr in triumph. Both Adelha and Urahara openly laughing as Claude scoops the kitten up to scold her and tap her on the nose as the puppies wag their tails. Urahara fetching his glass from off screen to down the rest of what looks to be some green liquid in a shot glass. His toes visibly curling as he smacks his lips to note that this absinthe is amazing.

The third video is the final one from last night. The tablet recording the bedroom Urahara is currently standing in. Adelha sitting beside Urahara as he looks three sheets to the wind for his giggling to soon turn to sad sobs. Lamenting how he has failed in so many ways. That he isn’t good enough for Adelha to do something surprising. She turns him to hug him tight and let him cry on her shoulder as Aqua climbs into his lap. The shop keeper shivering as Adelha sings to him a soft tune in German. Which has Urahara relax and sigh to seemingly fall asleep by the end of the song. Aqua climbing over to the pillows as Adelha shifts Urahara to get him properly in the bed. Giving him a kiss to the corner of his mouth to the sit on the bed and watch him sleep. Soon taking off her evening gloves to place that burned hand in his own. Her words filled with love and favor as she watches him sleep. “My heart embraces you, Kisuke. You’ve given more than enough to all of us. So you really do not need to apologize. Whenever you need rest and comfort, I will gladly provide. Sleep well.”

Adelha soon gets up off the bed to head for where the tablet is recording. Picking it up to look right into the camera. Her own eyes gleaming with unshed tears as, of all things, a small serpentine dragon appears in the frame. A low rumble soon followed by words. “It is almost time, my other half. But I am sure your expected guest will not tease you too much. If anything, they will make a show of pouting that Aqua isn’t going to be chasing them about the house.” Adelha nods to chuckle and sigh. “I know the time, Doragon. We still have to do the dishes and recycle the absinthe bottle. And hide Kisuke’s geta?” The dragon openly grins to laugh a warm sounding purr. The video stopping on Adelha’s sad yet loving smile for her Doll to be right by her head.

The videos from the previous evening were proving to be entertaining enough, just up to the moment he became the star. Oh, dear... despite the privacy of the room, he felt his face flush in reaction to his own behavior. It wasn't that he typically had a good poker face -- on the contrary, he was all too aware of his failures in that arena despite his best efforts, and here he was laying all his cards on the table, even ones he kept telling himself weren't in his hand. He supposed he had the green fairy to thank for that... absinthe makes the heart grow fonder, they do say—

He sighed deeply, wincing in mild disgust, and was just about to lay the tablet aside, when his eye was caught by a flash of silver behind Adelha's head. "Oh—" he gasped softly, his previous chagrin all but forgotten, as he watched in fascination the tiny scaled creature that adorned her shoulder. He'd never seen Adelha's doll, had he? "Doragon," he murmured under his breath, committing the name to memory.

He lay the tablet thoughtfully upon the hall table where he'd found it, and made his way absently to the bath, where he turned on the hot tap and let it run until the water felt warm on his hand, his thoughts on the events of the night before. Bits and pieces came floating back as he filled the European-style tub. It was the first he could recall speaking with Claude; he wished he could recall more of that conversation... ah, was that bubble bath? He spied an enticing bottle of the magical liquid perched on the edge of the tub.

"Don't mind if I do~" He tipped the contents to mingle them with the filling flow, and soon the scent of lavender filled the air. He chuckled as he shed his jinbei on the tile floor. He ought to have guessed. Well, now he, too, could soak thoroughly in her favored scent, he reflected as he sank into the bath—whatever advantage that might give him. He hoped it would be enough to offset the effects of having slept in his clothes... in which he'd have no choice but to re-dress afterwards. He let himself marinate for some time, reflecting on the images that filled in the blanks left by too much indulgence, until his fingers and toes were wrinkling like prunes.

"Well..." he announced to himself with some self-derision, "I suppose I can't avoid breakfast forever..." Green tea with honey did sound promising, though he doubted Adelha would restrain her cooking to a simple rice porridge for the course. He wondered if there might be blackberries, given her earlier taste of them—ah well, as long as it was nothing too exotic... The water had grown tepid by now anyway, and he hauled himself from it, taking a towel conveniently laid out for him from the counter, patting himself down and vigorously rubbing his head until his flaxen locks resembled their typical style. Having finally dressed again, he wandered out and down the stairs, bare feet marking tile, hardwood and the occasional carpet, until he'd found his way into the kitchen.

"What's for breakfast?~" he smiled, experimentally sniffing the air.

[fics-not-tragedies]

In a Week: Chapter 18 🌲

I think this is the most funny chapter I’ve ever written in my entire life and I think it’s the only one fully funny and sweet in this piece of fanfiction.

Words: 2122; Warnings: none; Summary: Chilling in a hot tub with Flo Andrew decides to make a little fun of them both.

Hozier tag list:

@letoursilencebreaktonight​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​; @angelpeachamber​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​; @sgt-morgan​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​; @julessbrown​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​;

Tuesday, 5:25pm

“You reminded me that I should send my Mum some flowers” he declared.

Flo smiled.

“Do you get on with her?”

“My Mum? Yes, we’re quite close…” he considered his next words, approached them with caution then decided to say them anyway, despite the potential damage they could cause, “And she’d like you, Flo. She’d really like you…”

He tried to picture it, allowed himself the daydream as she smiled back at him softly. In a different world, back home. Bringing Flo to meet his parents knowing he was so sure of her. She’d be worrying about what dress she was wearing, would worry she overdone it with the flowers and the dessert she spent all week practicing, but his Mum would love it, bring her in for one of her killer hugs straight away. Dad would give her the same, would want to know all about her instantly, would love her stories about their adventures. Andrew was sure she’d tell it all better than he could anyway.

“Is your Mum a control freak like me then?” Flo sighed, frustrated by the lack of reality in the conversation now. As incredible as it was to imagine it all, being the girl he decided he wanted to bring home, she didn’t allow herself to wallow in it, for too long it was too cruel.

“Hmm… maybe a little…” he nodded, still beaming from the vision he’d created for himself, “And you were right about the flowers… I just finished another tour, em, that’s why I’m here for the week.”

Flo thought about asking what he was planning to do next, but part of her didn’t want to know, didn’t want to be subconsciously tracking his every move. What if she’d turn up to one of his gigs in the future, if there still was one for her, bustle her way to front row, get pushed against the barriers by the huge crowd, nod her head to the tracks she knew, hope he’d make his way down to the front and spot her. But what if he didn’t look at her in the same soft way he did now? What if there was someone else waiting for him at the side of the stage? Or worse yet, what if he’d ignored her or didn’t even recognize her?

No, she decided. It’d be better not to know, to avoid it as much as she could.

“Do you like performing?” She asked instead.

“Well, yes. I feel like I’m only myself on stage, but, em, it’s really exciting when I see all those faces screaming my words back at me. Is fantastic. Sometimes they know them better than I do.”

“Must be overwhelming in front of all those people” she shuddered and added: “I’d hate it.”

Andrew chuckled in delight at her wittiness, preparing himself for the next question he could already see twitching in her smile.

“Got a pre-show ritual? Couple of prostitutes? A bottle of absinthe?”

“Not quite” he mumbled, “We’d fancy a goat slaughter, but no venue can pull that off. We only do a small chant…”

“Slaughtering a goat sounds quite eccentric…” she teased and he screwed his nose up at her.

Tuesday, 5:30pm

There was a sudden, loud click at the door and both Andrew and Flo turned their heads towards the sound, so accustomed to being alone with each other. Another couple entered the small room in their bathing suits, both smiling until they realized it was partly occupied. She was tall and thin, had a pointy nose and dark eyes and he was shorter, a little rounder in the middle, had a face that looked permanently unamused. From the way they were clinging onto each other, they were clearly on some kind of romantic getaway. Though Flo couldn’t draw much from them straight away, the disappointment on their faces was stark. They were clearly unhappy to find another ‘couple’ in the tub, but were far too British to simply walk back out.

“Sorry, mind if we…” the woman began, “… join you…”

Flo turned her gaze to Andrew and watched him smile up at the couple just as a bright, brilliant idea, so clear on his face, occurred to him.

“It’s alright” he drawled then turned back to Flo, “We can get cozier with Hozier, can’t we, love?”

After a moment of speechlessness, her body rigid, questioning what the correct response was, Flo shot Andrew a glare like she hadn’t before.

Bastard.

She couldn’t deny that the opportunity excited her a little. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be near to him or ‘get cozier with Hozier’, rather that she knew she would have trouble resisting the temptation again with him that close to her. He looked so good and she caught onto his distinctive scent as he shifted around to make room for her. She clearly had no choice.

With an awkward shuffle she moved through the middle of the jacuzzi and sat down next to Andrew, instantly aware of him pressed close to her and how much she hated the outfit she was wearing. Not waiting for long, the couple sunk into the tub opposite them and there was an awkward stare off for a while, the four of them nodding awkwardly back and forth.

“Nice hotel, right?” Andrew said at last, cutting through the looming silence. He couldn’t resist chatting with them a little.

“Oh, yes, it’s lovely” the woman replied, her partner doing his best to relax and ignore them, his eyes closed.

Then, without warning, Andrew’s arm snaked around Flo’s body and he cupped her waist tightly with his hand. His fingertips pressed into the skin there and she almost squealed. Even under the water, his touch overwhelmed her and she felt drawn into him again, like she hadn’t learned a single thing from the last time. Despite it all, despite his face inches from hers, his neck adjacent to her lips, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Her face was deeply flushed with embarrassment, though if anyone would have asked, she’d have blamed it on the heat. It took everything she had not to react and to play along with his game as best she could.

“We’re celebrating our fifteen year anniversary this week aren’t we, honeybee?…”

Flo stared blankly ahead, couldn’t believe he was really doing this, but then again of course she could. Honeybee? When she didn’t respond he gave her waist a quick squeeze and she moaned quietly to herself before muttering a quick “mhmmmm” out loud.

The couple were clearly uninterested, didn’t care about her response, probably hadn’t even noticed the strange body language of the couple in front of them but Andrew was persistent. “We were childhood sweethearts” he proclaimed. He was showing no signs of stopping, only just able to hide how badly he wanted to laugh. His face twitched as he fought the urge, “Stole my heart right after the first round of ‘spin the bottle’, haven’t you, honeybee?”

“Awh, that’s lovely” the woman cooed, though she was mostly engrossed on the massive glittering rock on her finger, “We just got engaged” she announced, just to better Andrew’s tale, as if the wafting and waving of her hand in the last minute or so hadn’t made that clear.

“Oh, congratulations!” Flo chimed, though she could barely focus. Andrew’s fingers began to draw lazy circles into her skin. It could have soothed her in the right time and place, but right now, with so much of her exposed, with the ridiculous game he was playing, with the stupid look on his face  she could catch from the corner of her eye all because he was winning, it was too much.

“Thank you!” The woman chimed, settling against her partner.

A few minutes passed, and though he wouldn’t have admitted it, Andrew was struggling too. He cursed himself for being so stupid. He couldn’t focus properly either, especially when Flo pressed herself into his side, rolled her knee up against his, moved her thigh against his just to make things more difficult for him.

“You staying here for long?” The man asked, clearly agitated by how competitive Andrew was with their fake relationship. Flo questioned whether he was asking about how long they’d be staying at the hotel or merely in the tub, desperate for peace and quiet.

“No, no. Got the kids waiting for us at home…” when neither of them responded, it just fueled him further: “Yes, little Jackie and Wilson. And he’s only three, bet he’s missing his Mummy, eh?” Another squeeze of her waist.

“Ahh, that’s lovely” the woman replied, though her responses were becoming more and more repetitive.

When the next silence came, Flo shook her head at him in constant disbelief, too dumbstruck to even come back at him with something as a challenge. Her hand suddenly on his knee made him jump, but he was still holding the happy couple facade together. With little fight from her, his own hand wandered down to her thigh. Aware of her heart beat and the wideness of his eyes, she was shaking, holding on to her control with everything she had and she turned to him in exasperation.

The quick movement of her head knocked a strand of hair into her eyes and without even questioning it, not part of his plan at all, Andrew moved it from her face with his free hand and tucked it neatly behind her ear. His touch was so delicate that she stared at him for longer than she should have and he stared right back at her. She watched him inhale deeply, his lips parting again as the breath left him.

“My little cinnamon bun…” he mumbled almost incoherently, barely blinking, “…we should go. I’m wrinkling like a prune in here…”

Flo could tell Andrew was struggling too, knew that they had to break apart now before it all came crashing down again and she took the opportunity to shimmy out of his touch and stand, forgetting the need to cover her body like she had before.

“Nice to meet you…” she mumbled to the couple, before darting out of the door, her legs like jelly, barely able to hold herself up. Behind her, Andrew said a goodbye Flo couldn’t hear then he quickly caught up to her.

Tuesday, 5:45pm

Surrounded by the noise of the pool water splashing and the cheerful chatter of the guests around them, they walked a couple of steps together in silence, strolling past the still water. Flo tried to gather her thoughts, tried to think of something to say. She was frustrated in more ways than one and needed him to know that. Her heart still pounding in her chest she suddenly turned to him, a clear intention in her eyes. Andrew was already laughing.

“Are you fucking for real?” Flo said, raising her voice as much as she was comfortable with, her teeth gritted.

“You bet I am, babe” he giggled, mocking his innocence.

“Don’t ‘babe’’ me, Andrew…” she warned, her finger jabbing him in the chest and he pouted back at her. “Oh god I could fucking…” she stopped moving, stomped her foot on the ground in frustration.

“Don’t swear, love” Andrew giggled, tears forming in his eyes at the hilarity. “It’s a fucking bad habit. What if the kids heard you?”

“Jackie and Wilson?” Flo grunted. “You have some nerve, Andrew…”

“It was funny, love…”

There it was again, love, each letter dragged out mercilessly.

Flo couldn’t take it anymore. She felt something snap inside of her and without processing it fully, she pushed Andrew backwards with all her strength towards the pool. Her hand met his chest and though he was excited at first, that wild flash of promise so clear, he soon lost his control. She wasn’t stronger than him but the element of surprise aided her and she watched as he shuffled over the edge and fell backwards, flailing pathetically until he hit the water.

Flo panicked for a split second, but Andrew resurfaced with some coughing and spluttering, his eyes trying to find Flo again. His hair was in his face, mouth agape, his eyes wide with shock.

And at that sight, Flo was satisfied, smiling and bending down slightly as she spoke to him.

“I’ll be in reception” she stated, then turned on her heel walking away from him. She made sure to wiggle her hips so that he had the perfect view of her overexposed ass as she left him and even though he couldn’t see her face, he knew the exact powerful smirk she was wearing.

Okay, Andrew decided, he deserved it.

[raleigh-ocean]

white light

summary: set in the new timeline; Billie still is contacted by Iris and the Devil's Night still scare the shit out of her. However, when she comes home, she realize what's really important to her even more than a bunch of ghosts.

N/A: this is a very specific setting, mostly because of the other (original) character. Dara is also a medium of some sort, and she's been Billie's lover for the last nine years or so (they started ‘dating’ when Dara was 25 and Billie 35 (circa 2010, before Murder House), now 34 & 44). I'll write more about her during this fic and in some others so you can get to know her! ✨

Billie felt her heart beating loudly in her throat, still with the nausea settled in her stomach and the uneasiness from the situation back at the hotel. It was like a never-ending pain in the back of her head and her eyes, maybe she strained herself past the line she drew for herself years ago.

Not even a cigarette could help her body feel at ease this time.

Maybe it was her conception of time or the absinthe messing with her brain, but it was taking too long to reach the apartment. Billie tried to focus in little things at first - like her fake nails, like the sound of her pearls with each bump of the road - and then she tried to hold her tears, a warm sensation pushing softly, to not spill them foolishly. 

How long she didn’t let herself cry for real? Not even when she broke her forearm a few years ago; not even when she had to stand in front of all those people at her mother’s funeral, judging her choices as if they knew her.

When her manager pulled over, Billie didn’t even bother in putting her heels on. She ran - and maybe waved goodbye, she doesn’t know - towards the front door as if someone was still chasing her. Her dress made her feel hot, her sweat making it stick to her back and her arms.

It took her four tries to open the door, each time making her more anxious and desperate to get inside. Once she was in, her anxiety skyrocketed so hard that she had to support herself in the countertop dividing the kitchen and the living room. At times other times, she used to ask herself how she felt comfortable in a tiny apartment instead of in a big house but in this specific situation she remembers.

Remembers how everything around her is at reach easily; how she could see what’s happening in almost every room from the living room, no surprises unless she was the one giving them; how being herself the one doing her chores anchored her vivid mind and powers to the ground.

As soon as she felt like being capable of moving again, she moved forward to the tiny master room. The bed took a good chunk of the room, not a single mirror there, clothes discarded in the floor from the day, the tiny ensuite bathroom’s door ajar...

...and the woman in the bed, sprawled like a big cat, stirring awake and reaching for the nightlight and filling the whole room with this orangish light, trying to get to her and make the cold go away.

“Bills?” her voice was tinted always with tenderness when she was speaking to her. Billie felt her face do this little pout, in the verge of tears again. “Sweetheart, why- Oh sweet God, you are drenched in sweat,” Billie didn’t let her finish that first sentence, throwing herself in the arms of her lover, clinging to her as if her life depended on it. “Hey, I’m here sugar...”

Billie felt bad, she always did when the breakdowns came, because she was too used to carry all burdens. She felt bad for putting her whole ‘bag of utilities’ in her lover’s arms, to let go everything without notice her first...but the younger woman always picked it up like it weighed not less than a feather. The medium let herself cry then, when she had her arms around her, cuddling in that strange sitting position with Billie’s head in her chest, her whole body cuddled against her body and the other woman’s back resting uncomfortably against the iron-bar headboard.

One thing that amazed Billie the most was that Dara Ann Lynch - the woman that was holding her tight, that was rocking her lightly and kissing the top of her head -, was still with her after almost ten years of the most bizarre shit she would ever imagine happen to her. Billie gave her a handful of motives to just walk away, forget about her, build her own life; but Dara was always there, smile in her face and what she needed to hear at the right moment. 

“Let’s get you out of this dress and get in the shower, okay?” still crying, she only nodded and let Dara to help her stand up. Her hands were warm against her skin, soothing the pulshing energy that was trying to get out of her body all at once. “I’ll make some tea while you are at it, and this time I promise I’ll let you put all the liquor you want.”

They were entering the bathroom when Dara said that, making her feel this raw sensation coming from her stomach, more like the crippling fear of being alone.

“Don’t leave, please,” Billie tighten the grip in her hand and there was something in her voice, sheer panic, that made Dara destroy in her head the idea of leaving her side. 

“Okay,” Dara smiled and then helped her...girlfriend? partner? to undress fast, getting her under the hot water and letting her to adjust. “Do you want me to wash your hair?”

That was the cue. Dara always had this kind of domesticity to handle things as to ‘hey, sweetheart, I’m making your favourite dish tonight!’ when she was having a really rough day, even when she still didn’t know about it; as to ‘do you want me to wash your hair?’ when Dara knew Billie was in the edge of her anxiety, because it soothe her to have her hair washed; as to ‘come here you starlight, I’m doing your nails today’ when she was so tired from filming and Billie didn’t want to talk, leading Dara the conversation all the time.

Thinking about all the normal things made her realize that she wasn’t in a situation where she was in danger, but it wasn’t until she saw Dara letting fall her nightgown and her panties to the bathroom floor, stepping in the shower behind her, that she actually felt the bits of white light coming back to her.

All the ride from the hotel to that moment, she really thought the white light left her forever. There were times that, yes, she didn’t consider that was a thing that was real at the very beginning; but it for sure was now.

However, feeling Dara’s hands in her hair and her humming while she was at it felt like an energy charger. 

Dara was herself a kind of medium, but she wasn’t one that wanted to brag about her gift often. Tarot was the thing she did the most, having late night shifts from a very young age and even now - even if now she had the opportunity to choose when -, but Billie knew she had actually more power than she credit it. There was something about her aura that gave her this tickle inside, as if Dara was something more she wasn’t even close to discover.

“Never thought having three in the morning shower would feel this good,” Dara’s voice brought her back, now they two completely soaked and clean just because Billie seemed to have spaced out and then her partner also helped her wash her body. “How are you up there sugar?”

Billie turned around in Dara’s arms to hug her properly, water still running over them from the shower. The white light was surrounding them now, Billie’s worries resting somewhere while the only thing she was starting to care about was Dara’s hands caressing the small of her back and upper.

They had this thing between them going for so long and they never addressed it, why?

“I want a break,” were the only words that came from the medium’s mouth. “I need a break from all this.”

“Actually, that’s going to propose to you over nice breakfast,” Dara chuckled at that, lifting always the heavy weight in Billie’s chest. “Constance called me this morning, asking if we were going to visit soon because Nora was getting whi-”

“No,” it even shocked herself when the word came out a bit too harsh. “No ghosts, no Constance, no cameras; only us, the beach and some martinis,” Billie chuckled and let the last drop of panic go like that. “We deserve this. We need time, some healing time.”

“Nora is going to be so fucking pissed off,” Dara laughed at that and she turned off the water, reaching for a towel to wrap both of them with it. “I can hear her already, sweet God.”

And when Dara made a really good impersonation of their dearest ghost, Billie felt like she got a shot of white light right in her lungs and even her heart. The cobwebs the hotel left her went away just like that, the cold those spirits left her with actually going away just with her lover’s laugh.

“We’ll visit her for as long as she wants once we are back,” Billie wasn’t one to be clingy, but she let herself for that night and search for Dara’s embrace after they were on their pajamas. Dara never joked or laughed at that hidden part of her, receiving whatever she had to offer. “But I want to spend time just with you.”

“Wow that’s really sweet, Bills,” Dara looked moved, younger even, and Billie felt a soft pang of guilty in her heart because even when her lover was happy and overall okay, she wasn’t able to see that raw emotion in her that often. “Last time we went on vacation was...after Constance asked you to help the Harmon girl, I think?”

A very long time, how did you manage to put up with me for this long?

Billie hummed in agreement, making herself comfortable in Dara’s arms while the younger woman led them to bed. When they were settled, the ‘magic’ was still surrounding them in this protective way that she learned to appreciate as years passed by. Maybe when they were alone and far away from everything she could ask Dara about this kind of stuff, Billie said to herself; maybe getting her to talk more about that part of their lives they also shared.

“Are you going to tell me what happened to you there?” Dara’s fingers made their way up and down her arm, trying to still calm her down even when Billie was feeling much better. 

She closed her eyes, leaning towards the woman to keep being cuddled and kissed and held. Of course she was going to tell her, but not now. She now had a very clear goal in her mind and thinking about the Hotel Cortez wasn’t in the road to it.

“I will, but not now,” Dara smiled at the words knowingly, being used to that kind of response. She was patient overall, so it didn’t matter to her when she was getting the answer to her question. “Can you keep the white light coming however? I think I need some refillment, honey.”

“Sure miss Howard, I have an unlimited subscription to it,” Billie kissed Dara’s cheeks, nuzzling against her after that and being kissed in the forehead fondly by her. “I love you Bills, I really do.”

She didn’t answered right away, knowing that Dara would doze off in a matter of seconds - she had that gift too, light sleeper but quick dozing off. When that happened, she let herself focus in her heart beating steadily to try and get some rest too. Billie thought that maybe when they were on vacation, she would be able to give Dara something back too like all those ‘I love you’ that she was so afraid of give back. 

Actually have a talk about them sounded like the right thing after that night.

Nonetheless Billie let herself be cocooned in Dara’s warm arms, the true white light protecting her from what had happened, and soon the tiredness from all took her away too.

The only thought left in her head was that as long she had something to come back and call home, that would be her true meaning for the white light.

[sneezingpotatoes]

OMG WHAT?! I'M ACTUALLY POSTING?! IKR XD It's been foreverrrr xD BUT I'm back with yet another new fic with Reuben and Draco LOL This fic takes place after Draco is feeling better and Reuben catches his cold. DON'T ASK ME ABOUT THE OTHER FIC CUZ... LOOOOL I DUNNO HONESTLY XD Sorry my mind is a mess and can't seem to focus on finishing an actual story so UsE yOuR iMaGiNatIoN on how the other fic ended xD Or who knows... I might go back to it and finish it later xD BUT HERE'S THIS! *\(x.x)/*

“Heyyy, Reubennn~! Hellooo!! Open the damn door already!!!”

High-pitched yelling was heard from outside, which forced Draco to quickly sit up on the couch. He looked around, scoping through the pitched black living room making sure that everything was still in place and untouched. After one more quick sweep of the place, he sighs in both relief and irritation, becoming fed up with the loud racket that was taking place outside of the door.

“Who the hell is it?!” He snarled deeply as he approached the front door.

“It’s me, Lirin! Wait, Draco? Is that you??? Where’s Reuben?!”

The rugged man opened the door and glared at the young woman standing in front of him. She was holding a tray of hot chocolates in her hands while doing a light jog in place, trying to keep her body heat up with her teeth chattering from how cold it was.

“I dunno where the hell he is, and I don’t give a crap either.” Draco grunted as he headed back over to the couch and collapsed into it. Lirin mocked him behind his back as she entered the warm home and locked the door behind her. Even though she still found the the rugged man attractive, she hated Draco’s grumpy attitude and found him a little more enjoyable while he was drunk anyway.

“Why is it so dark in here?” The woman asked as she flicked on the lights. Draco winced in response and hissed: “I was trying to sleep before you came and woke me up!” Lirin pouted at the grumpy man and sat the hot chocolates down on the coffee table. “Well excuse me for trying to do something nice, gramps! Who in the hell goes to bed at 10 anyway, you old fart!?”

“Hey, I’m not old…! And don’t call me gramps!” Draco defensively fired back. Lirin teased the rugged man and stuck her tongue out at him, giggling in a taunting manner. “Why are you even here?!” Before Lirin could say anything in return, the turning of the doorknob steals both of their attention as they watched Reuben enter the house.

“Reubenn~!!! Welcome home!” Lirin cheered as she lunged forward for a hug from the lanky gentleman. Reuben accepted the hug in surprise, being shocked from seeing his cousin in his home without a warning. He should’ve known by now though, seeing how this wasn’t the first time, nor the second that Lirin had shown up in his house and startled him. She was always so unpredictable and random.

“What a pleasant surprise.” Reuben says through a few light coughs into the curl of his fist, feeling worn out from his day of work. It wasn’t like he didn’t want her company; He was just so exhausted and he had planned to finish up a few things and head straight to bed.

“I brought hot chocolate~!” She cheered as she handed both of the boys the now room temperature cups. She was always bad with timing, and the drinks were already starting to cool, seeing how she had made them two hours before she had showed up to his house.

The gentleman forced a half-assed smile nonetheless, and nodded his thanks as he sat on the couch opposite of Draco. He didn’t want to upset the poor girl, and it was very thoughtful of her. Draco, on the other hand felt differently, and snorted at the cup, grimacing after he took a sip of the drink.

“Where the hell’d you get this shit from?!” Draco asked, dumbfounded by how someone would purchase something that tasted so foul.

“I made them, you dickhead!” She yelled defensively. If not for the fact that Reuben were a clean freak, she’d have thrown her drink at the asshole and bopped him upside the head. Instead, she bit her lip and clenched her fists onto her cup, feeling her nails piercing thin lines into its sides.

“Do us all a favor and just stick to the martinis.” The rugged man muttered underneath his breath, triggering the fellow bartender.

“Draco, enough.” Reuben stated grimly.

The gentleman glared directly into Draco’s dark blue orbs, giving him a chill like no other. At first, the rugged man glared back intently, with the attitude of ‘You’re not the boss of me’, but after the room went still for a few moments, Draco finally cracked and gave a dismissive ‘tch, whatever’ before sinking deeper into the couch in silent defeat. He tried his best to ignore Lirin as she childishly stuck her tongue out at him in victory.

“Lirin, I do appreciate your kind gesture of bringing us these delightful hot chocolates, but I must get some work done and retire for the night.” Reuben sighed and massaged his pulsing temples.

She pouted in response, but understood that being a pediatrician wasn’t an easy task, and that he was always busy, so this wasn’t anything new to her. She was used to barely seeing the busy pediatrician, even on her off days. With the click of the front door, Lirin was gone without saying a word.

Reuben felt slightly guilty, of course, but it was also business as usual. He just didn’t have the time nor the energy to entertain his guest properly. We’ll try again when I get the day off, he tries to reassure himself in order to get that heavy weight of guilt off of his back. The gentleman glares at the rugged man lying on the couch in dismay, still appalled by his grotesque behavior.

“You shouldn’t say rude things like that to people, you know.” Reuben stated blandly as he audibly yawns and leaves the couch to set up his laptop on his grand office desk.

Draco only grunts in response, not willing to entertain the scolding conversation that’s trying to form. The gentleman kneels down to rub his Black cat that was obediently sitting down in the cat bed right beside his office desk, cooing at the magnificent creature before he sat down and began glossing over all of his unread emails. He rubbed his eyes, sighing and already feeling his head begin to pulsate more fervently just by looking at all of the emails he had to respond to.

“Draco, fetch me a glass of tea, would you?” The gentleman ordered, not even attempting to disguise it as a question. He had already begun typing away, fingers gliding across the keyboard as if he’d performed this dance a million times before. If he weren’t so invested into his work, he could’ve sworn he heard Draco scowl and cynically get up from the couch with a huff. What was worse, living out on the streets, or living with this silver spoon fed- ‘fetch me a glass of tea’ having- Stiff upper lip looking moron? Draco had to constantly ask himself. Nevertheless, the latter was always the better option, whether he liked it or not.

 A few moments later, the rugged man returns with a cup of steamy green tea that he sets beside the hardworking man in a huff, still irritated with the whole matter. Reuben stifles a few coughs into his fist and reaches for the tea cup, still keeping his eyes on the laptop screen and scanning all of the text on the dimly-lit screen.

At first, Draco wanted to growl a feisty ‘you’re welcome’, but on the other hand, he also understood how busy he was. Even though he had only been living with him for about a month, each of those days were filled with work that didn’t stop even when he came home. Defeatedly, Draco turns off the lights and collapses onto the couch and watches the man type away on his laptop.

Reuben bit back a cough before taking a sip of his green tea, closing his eyes from the welcoming warmth against his scratchy throat. He releases a gentle sigh, seeing how his throat was still scratchy even after he took a few more sips from the warm mug. He had hoped that the warm green tea would’ve cured his throat since it had been irritated all day, but to no avail. Setting the mug down, he returned back to his laptop, responding to more emails about previous procedures and scheduling new appointments with different patients. It was the same cycle. He would go to work early, come home late, work on his laptop, and then go to sleep. He would usually breeze through the paperwork now, seeing as how he had been a pediatrician for quite a while, but tonight was a little troublesome for the gentleman. It seemed that no matter how fast or how long he would be typing, the emails would never end; more would come one after another.

Reuben removed his glasses and cautiously grabbed a tissue from beside his laptop, folding it in half before he brought it up to his nose and massaged the now tickling appendages. He didn’t really mind the sneezing itself, seeing how the sneeze was a natural occurrence in the human body. The only time he would have a problem were if the sneeze were messy and germ infested, which is what he had been subjected to two weeks prior. The number of cold patients turning up in the clinic hadn’t helped his case either. The gentleman took in a shallow breath before twitching into the tissue, releasing four short, rapid sneezes.

“Ktsh! Hihhk’tsh! ‘Kttsh! Huktsh!”

He released a shaky sigh as he continued to massage his faintly ticklish nostrils. Even though he had finished sneezing, the tickle had just died down again, never leaving him entirely. After feeling certain that he was finished for the time being, the gentleman gently blew into the tissue and placed it into the garbage can beside his feet before putting on his glasses and returning to his emails. Absinthe stirs in her bed from the sudden event and rubs up against her master’s leg in concern, feeling as if something is off with the man.

“Did I trouble you Absinthe?” Reuben asks as if expecting a verbal reply from the cat, in which he receives a soft purr and another gentle nudge against his leg. Draco audibly sighs and shakes his head at the fact that Reuben changes into a completely different person when he talks with his cat… And just at the fact that he talks to his cat like an actual person. “It’s quite alright, dear girl. N-not to… Not-hihH”

The pediatrician freezes and snuffles lightly, feeling his nostrils twitch from the current irritation. Before even having the time to process anything, he lurches forward slightly above his laptop, teeth clenched and eyes slammed shut from the possessive tickle.

“Heh’ktsh! ‘ksh! ‘KTTSH! ‘Isshn!”

“Bless you.” The rugged man audibly grunts at Reuben, seeing how he couldn’t fall asleep for two minutes without being awoken by a cough, sneeze or sniffle from the man.  

Reuben only releases an impatient sigh in return as he straightened up his glasses and grabbed for another tissue, quickly trying to expel as much of the sickly fluids as possible. A soft purr is heard as Absinthe leaps onto his lap in sympathy, trying to provide her owner with at least some kind of comfort. If the gentlemen weren’t so caught up in his mess, he could’ve sworn he heard Draco curse from the couch.

“Are you sick?” The rugged man asked, completely disregarding Reuben’s suffering as he cracked an eyelid open to study the pediatrician.

“So it would seem.” Reuben replied grimly through his damp tissue.

Unlike the rugged man, Reuben was an impatient person. He wasn’t going to hide the fact that he was coming down with something or that he felt ill. It all just seemed childish and like a waste of time, seeing how the truth would be revealed sooner or later anyway.

He was aggravated that his sorry excuse of an immune system would allow him to catch a measly cold at a time like this. It was inevitable though. Even if he hadn’t taken the rugged man into his home, the constant contamination of his cold patients would’ve gotten into his system regardless. He couldn’t blame the entirety of the situation on the rugged man, but he sure did clinch his fist from recollecting every moment Draco hadn’t covered his mouth to sneeze or cough, and each time he wiped his nose with his hands and instantly infected one of his appliances.

“Kshn! Eh’ktsh…! ‘Ish’u…Hh-huh…!” Just thinking about that baboon and his shenanigans made the gentleman dip forward into the tissue blanketing his palms with ticklish explosions. He firmly grabs Absinthe, making sure that she doesn’t fall off of his lap as he takes another deep inhale.

“Welp, sucks for you.” Draco responded blandly. “Shaddap with the sneezin’ already. ‘M tryna sleep here.”

“Hhuh-Issh’ueh!! Guhh.” The gentleman only snarled in response as he massaged the bridge of his restless nose. He could feel his head roaring in the back of his skull from all of the pressure slowly building up like a kettle setting on a hot stove.  Draco had no intentions of caring or taking care of him. He was a grown man, and a pediatrician of all things. He knew all of the tips and tricks better than he did. The rugged man closed his eyes once again, too exhausted to even humor the situation further.

Reuben hazily grabs a fresh batch of tissues and instantly blows into them and getting nowhere. His sinuses we're beginning to clog up from his constant sneezing, making it difficult to breathe out of his nose alone. He mumbles a brief curse underneaths his breath before deciding to get up to take some Benadryl. He knew himself all too well, knowing that once he started sneezing, it would take forever for him to stop unless he did something about it. And if he were going to get some sleep tonight, he was definitely going to need some aid.

Absinthe hops down from his lap and follows the lanky gentleman into the restroom, cautiously watching every move of the gentleman. Reuben smiles at his favorite feline with a thick sounding snuffle as he shows her the bottle of Benadryl that he's about to take.

"Once I take this, you'll have to wake me up if I sleep through my alarm clock again, understood?" Reuben asked the innocent cat as if he were a commander issuing out a soldier to the battlefield. The cat only glared at the gentleman with her dark lavender eyes and gave a soft 'meowrr' in response. Reuben chuckles to himself and takes the recommended dosage of Benadryl before he returns to the living room and sits back at his desk.

Draco was now, and finally passed out on the couch with a deep snore that filled the still room. He was happy now that he could work without having to worry about that baboon interfering with his concentration.

About 30 minutes pass of soft clacking of the keyboard, constant soft sniffles (In consideration of Draco), a steady pulsing headache, and stifled coughing that never fully escape his chest, Reuben can tell that the Benadryl is starting to take effect. He can hardly read the text in his Excel document, and everything was zooming in and out of focus. He tries to rub his eyes to clear away the blurriness and the oncomming rush of fatigue, but it does absolutely nothing. The gentleman finally rests his head down on his office desk in defeat and instantly joins Draco into a deep slumber.

Something cold and wet gliding across the ear of the gentleman and stirs him awake. He giggles drowsily at the tickle in his ear and swats away whatever is pestering him. His giggling stops abruptly as he is greeted instantly by an unnerving tickle in his nostrils. Before he can comprehend anything, he sloppily stifles a quad of sneezes with his head still resting on the desk.

"Hahh-Ngxtsh! 'gxtssh'! Nxt-ngtxsh'iew!! Nnghh..."

 The last stifle escapes from him as his head is in a world of pain, and he's sure his head would've exploded if he fully stifled the last one. He reaches for the tissue box and grabs a handful, instantly emptying out all of the gunk that had been trapped in his nostrils. He feels relieved that his nose isn't stuffy anymore, but now it won't stop running. He sighs and sniffles a few times before noticing Absinthe obediently sitting on top of his office desk with a tilted head, studying her poor master. He gives her an appreciative rub and grabs his laptop to check the time.

8:07am. Bloody hell.

He quickly stands up, now frazzled from how late he is and rushes for his bedroom to quickly change his clothes. He's already three hours behind schedule, no time for a shower or breakfast.

He scurries around the place, barely grabbing everything that he needed without forgetting his cellphone about 10 dozen times before he actually grabbed the damn thing, still groggy from sleep and the remnants of Benadryl in his system. He absentmindedly walks out of the house without his coat on and instantly does a 180 to retrieve it before heading to the subway station. He figured he wasn't suitable to drive in his current state and that the subway would just be easier for him.

After 10 minutes of speed walking through the chilly December weather, a bout of pushing and shoving through crowds of people just as in a hurry as he was, and a slip and a slide onto a cold handrail squished in-between a heavy set guy who was standing too close for comfort behind him eating an omelet that had a strong scent of onion that made him slightly nauseous, and a young teenager standing directly in front of him that wore a cheap smelling perfume with a strong floral scent to it, Reuben honestly thought this was the end of the road for him. He could already feel his nostrils start to leak heavier than before, as if his nostrils were drooling over the scented perfume the teenager was wearing. He sniffles rapidly as he squishes his arm between the other bodies standing around him and pulls out his handkerchief, gluing it to his nose, already feeling his nose tickling with a burning passion. He feels his nostrils twitching underneath his own hand and blinks away allergic tears as he stares up at the bright subway light.

"Ahh-hHUH... HheH-hh... NngHhk!"

He felt powerless against the chest inflating hitches and the burning in his nose. He didn't want to sneeze on the subway at all, seeing how it was gross and unsanitary, and he knew that he wouldn't want someone to sneeze on the subway if he were standing right in front of them either. It didn't help that his nose was already tingly from the sickness his body was already trying to fight against, and now another catalyst has entered his stream that his body feels the need to expel.

With another deep hitch, he twitches harshly into his handkerchief, desperately clenching all of his muscles so that he didn't dip forward onto the teenager or lean backwards too far into the man's omelet.

"HhaH-'Isshmff!! H'issh-issh-t'isshmmf! HhuhH...!!"

Reuben shook his head being overwhelmed with the restless tickle. Even after his sneezes, the tickle felt the exact same.

The teenager scooted her right head phone back into her hair as she looked behind her at the lackadaisical man with a disgusted glare. She flinched when Reuben sneezed two more times and hissed: "That's gross..." To him as she turned back around and attempted to scoot forward but only moved about an inch away from him. Reuben didn't even have time to feel embarrassed, for his nose was stealing all of his attention. He blew his nose, releasing a thick gurgling sound and grimaced when his nose twitched yet again and caused him to dip forward with force and power.

"HhHHE'Ngxt! Nngxt! HhUH'Ngxt-Ngxtsh... NNGXTSH'UEH! HH'EGTSHH'IUMMF! MMPFF'UE! MPHFF-MFF!!"

Reuben gripped the cold handrail above him tightly, trying to keep himself from tilting over backwards. He was beginning to feel light-headed from both the perfume and the strong onion scent, and he was starting to feel claustrophobic from both the wheezing in his chest making it hard to breathe and from everybody standing so close. The lanky gentleman rubs away the allergic tears with his soaking handkerchief and sighs. He knows he's going to need some tissues soon, since his handkerchief is already way beyond wet and he knows that he forgot to grab a travel pack this morning while he was rushing out the door. He thinks about asking the teenager in front of him, but he doesn't bother seeing how he had already grossed her out enough and she probably doesn't want anything to do with him, so he looks behind him to ask the omelet man.

"Y-you would'd happe'dhh... to habe ady dissues, would you?" He croaked, instantly coughing chestily into the damp handkerchief which makes himself grimace.

The omelet man gives Reuben an odd look, but hands him the stack of brown napkins nonetheless.

"Here, take 'em. Looks like you need 'em a-hell-of-a lot more than I do, that's for sure." The man chuckled as he continued to chow down on his half eaten omelet.

Reuben offers a congested chuckle as well, with a hoarse 'thagk you very buch', in return, instantly shoving his beyond used handkerchief back into his pocket, and instantly gurgling into the brown napkins. He winces when the napkins shred his now reddened, ticklish nostrils. Well sure they weren't any ordinary soft tissue, but it'd have to do the job for now.

One stop away from the pediatric office, and almost half of the people he boarded with aren't on the subway anymore. He actually managed to grab a seat and relax without a strong onion or floral scent torturing his sinuses. Although the teenager had gotten off of the bus two stops ago, the scent had lingered and teased him a bit, but it wasn't too bad. He was honestly just so exhausted. What a bad start to the day.

"You have arrived to: Herrigton Ave." The automated voice announced throughout the subway, flinching the gentleman out of his light snooze. Despite all of the rest he'd gotten, he still felt fatigued and worn.

Reuben releases a long sigh as he snuffles to himself and gathers all of his belongings before getting off of the subway and heading towards the pediatric office. He hurries as fast as he can to the building, not wanting to linger in the cold weather any longer than he has to.

"Where have you been? I literally spammed your phone and left you 10 voicemails." Lani interrogated the lanky gentleman with haste as soon as he enters the building.

Reuben glared at the caramel skintoned woman with confused eyes and snuffles thickly as he brings up an index finger to rest above his upper lip. He hadn't received not one notification throughout his entire journey to his workplace.

"That's impossible." Reuben refuted as he struggled to pull out his phone. "I don't have any--" he interrupts himself with a defeated sigh as he realizes that his phone was dead. He must've been too caught up in his work and sickness to even think about putting it on the charger. "Blast it."

Lani solemnly approaches the sniffling man and rubs his shoulder. She hadn't realized how terrible he looked as he barely managing to stand in front of her. His droopy eyes barely able to focus on her ashened gray orbs, his runny red nose constantly scrunching up from his light rabbit-like sniffling, with his face starting to turn a soft shade of pale.

"Listen, don't worry about it... Patrick already handled your first three patients, and I'm sure I can find someone to cover you for the rest of the day. You should go home and get some rest..." She informs the pediatrician, voice still coated with concern.

"I'll be okay." Reuben says with a sigh, not sure if he believed his own words, but stood by them nonetheless. He was upset that he already missed 3 of his patients and he didn't want to miss anymore of them. Lani furrows a brow at the sick gentleman and shakes her head in disapproval.

"You're not in well enough condition to even be here right now, let alone to see a patient!" She exclaims, feeling upset that Reuben is pushing himself so hard.

"I only have a slight cough and runny nose. If this is qualification to stop me from seeing a patient, then I fear for all of the sick and injured." The gentleman refuted, watching Lani give him the side eye.

She definitely knew that he was hiding more than he lead on, but she gave him an obviously annoyed sigh and flipped through her logs and handed him a document. After giving Reuben one last cold and spine chilling glare, she began to speak.

"... The Anderson family has been waiting for about 30 minutes now, so you should hurry." With a huff, she swivels back around the marble counter and takes her seat at the front desk, almost instantly returning back to typing on her computer. The gentleman releases a heavy sigh of relief and shoots a glance back at the Divine woman.

"Thank you, Lani. You truly are incredible." He says as he heads down to his pediatric office. Lani hides the flush in her cheeks as she subtily watches the gentleman walk down the hallway.

Reuben gives his nose one last good rub and a deep shuffle that causes him to cough a few throaty coughs on to the upside of his hand before he enters the office to greet his patient and the family.

"Good morning, everyone. Please excuse my absence." He announces to the family, already needing to sniffle again as he applies a squirt of hand sanitizer.

The family returns the greeting in relief, being grateful that somebody showed up to assist them.

"Oh, I don't mind! I get to miss school so you can take all the time you need." A little girl sat on his medical table, swinging her legs back and forth with a shy smirk on her face. She looked to be about 9 years old.

"Ahh, school! I don't miss those days." Reuben chuckled as he flipped through his clipboard of records. "In that case, let's figure out whatever it is that is causing you so much discomfort." Reuben scrunches his nose with a series of light sniffles, starting to already feel the need to sneeze gradually becoming bothersome. He pressed the upside of his hand against his nostrils, subtly trying to stop his nose from beginning to twitch softly underneath his hand.

 “Tell the nice doctor what’s wrong, Abel.” The mother cooed at her daughter. At first Abel hesitated, but then she nodded and looked at Reuben with solemn eyes.

“So my throat really really hurts all the time, and it hurts a lot when I swallow things.” She said shyly as she fiddled around with a hole in her jeans.

The gentleman sat there struggling to pay attention to the child, seeing how the persistent itch resting in his nostrils were definitely making it a challenge. Normally his sneezes were so quick and to the point just like he was, but at this moment he could tell that they wanted to make him suffer.

“How lo-onghhH…” He clears his throat, followed by a sniffle and starts his sentence again. “Hh-How long has your throat been hhH-hurt-tingghh…?”

He trailed off and held his breath, trying to bite back any more hitches that wanted to make him sound silly in front his patient. Why now of all times? He thought to himself. Couldn’t it wait until after he was finished diagnosing his patient?

“Umm, I think its been hurting for like three days now? I don’t remember…” She gave a wry frown, feeling upset that she couldn’t give him solid information.

“It’s alright.” Reuben reassured, taking a deep swallow in hopes of swallowing down the itch along with it, but failing. “It sounds a lot like strep, b-but I’ll take a swab for testing just to be sure, ok?” His last sentence sounded slightly rushed, but the family didn’t notice, since the girl and her parents nodded in understanding.

It took all of his will power to stop himself from rubbing at his nose. He sniffled lightly as he grabbed the Q-tips, trying to at least bury the itch down to a tolerable level, but instead made his eyes start to water from the flare of the itch. He blinked a couple times, fighting to keep his eyelids open, but eventually failed as he felt them flutter shut. He instantly brought up his cupped hand, expectantly waiting for the sneeze to make itself known.

“Sir, are you alright?” The mother asked, concern coating her voice.

After he heard the mother ask that question, he could feel the stares of her and the rest of the family directly on him, as they too were waiting for the sneeze to finally release. He felt partially embarrassed but that feeling instantly vanished as the tickle flared up and teased him, causing his jaw to slack open with a deep hitch that followed.

“HhhH-uh…!” The gentleman stepped back away from the girl as to not sneeze near her and he internally sighed, seeing how the itch had died back down to an irritating level just as fast as it had come.

“Are you feeling okay, mister?” The little girl chimed in, just barely cutting through his own battle with his annoying itch.

Reuben nodded slightly, still concentrating on the tickle. He knew that he looked a mess, but the tickle was so unpredictable that he didn’t want to make a fool out of himself anymore than he already had.

“Yes, I’b fide. Judst dhought I was goi’g to s-sdeeze.” Reuben replied, wincing at how much congestion was piling up in his sinuses. He released an irritable sigh as he grabbed a few tissues from off of the counter and blew his nose. He knew that he needed to do a heavy blow, but in respect of his patient he released a soft blow into the tissues, that still sounded wet and gross, but not too unbearable. And no, that nose blow didn’t do anything for him but make him sound and look sick, and make his nose a light shade of pink.

He sighed, getting fed up with his irritating nose, feeling the itch become inflamed since he blew his nose, but it still wasn’t strong enough to actually make him sneeze. He grabbed the Q-tips once again, and approached the child and told her to say “Ahh” so that he could examine her throat and get a sample of her saliva. She gave a weird look at Reuben, seeing his tired frame slumped in front of hers with his mouth slightly open taking in uneven breaths, his droopy, tired eyes beating down into hers, his slightly twitching nose that was now clearly moist and practically leaking from all of the tickling he had been suffering through. Despite seeing this, she complied, closing her eyes and opening her mouth wide, giving Reuben full view of the inside of her mouth. It didn’t look good. He could see little red bumps coating the roof of her mouth, with white pus pockets as well. He took mental note of that.

The easy part was finished, now for the hard part. The swab. He didn’t want to press too hard on the back of her throat, or hit her uvula and make her gag, nor did he want to sneeze during the procedure and injure the patient. Reuben released a quick sigh and chestly coughed briefly over his shoulder. He just needed to finish up with this patient so that he could take all the time he needed to coax out the sneeze, or do whatever – He just needed a break.

Reuben took in a shaky breath and slowly guided the Q-tip into the child’s mouth, clenching all of his muscles while trying his hardest to keep his hand from shaking, and trying his hardest to ignore the burning tickle in his sinuses. While getting close to the back of the child’s throat, Reuben feels his body release a quick shutter from how uncomfortable it felt when a strand of clear phlegm tried to peak out of his left nostril. He sniffles out of habit and causes the itch to erupt like lighting a stick of dynamite and feeling it explode right inside of his nose. Instantly, he pulls his hand out from the child’s mouth and tries to quickly duck his face into the crook of his elbow with his teeth clamped shut, turning completely away from his patient and her family.

“hhH-H’IEGTTZSH!!” The first sneeze was desperate, wet sounding and forceful. He wasn’t quite fast enough to land it in the crook of his elbow, so it partially sprayed mist out into the open and onto his arm.

“Bless you!” The girl yelled, shocked from the loudness of the abrupt sneeze.

“Eh’ktsh-I’SSH…!!”

“Bless you, bless you!”

“Hh’ktsshsh!”

“Bless you!” The girl giggled from both enjoying saying bless you so many times and from peering over the pediatrician’s shoulder to reveal the look on Reuben’s face as he pulled his head out from his elbow. She had to look past his loose, disheveled beige locks to see his nose softly twitching and the distressed, hazy look on his face, signaling to her that he still wasn’t done.

“Hah-hh… E-excuehh-HhUH… Huktshn!”

“Bless you!”

“Eh’SSH! ‘Scuse be.” Reuben croaked, voice now thick and strained from the well overdue sneezes.

“Bless you, mister! Wow!” The girl exclaimed in awe. “If I ever sneezed that many times, I would die!” Reuben tried to apologize, knowing how disgusting and messy he looked through glossy eyes and constant sniffling.

“Don’t apologize for something you can’t help.” The mom instructed, giving Reuben a look of concern. “We all get sick, and that includes doctors too.”

He weakly shook his head, still feeling the tickle burning away at his nose as he released muted pants that made his chest bounce with each breath. He felt truly awful, but at this point he didn’t much care how he looked anymore. He just wanted the itch to leave him alone. It had caused enough havoc with him, and he wanted it to stop. The gentleman grabbed a handful of tissues and instantly blew into them, sneezing two more tired sneezes, while having them get muffled during the blow and from the soaked tissues, but he still received two cheerful ‘bless you’s from the girl. He couldn’t help but smile at the child and the pureness in her heart for blessing him so many times.

“Thangk you both.” Reuben croaked before dipping into his elbow again, releasing deep, chesty coughs into it. The sneezes seemed to open up his throat, making it scratchier and drier. On the last cough, he heard a slight rattle in his chest, which shocked him and the family in the room with him.

“I'm no doctor, but I know that doesn’t sound good…” The mother implied, with a questioning tone.

She was right. It didn’t sound good, and it didn’t feel good either. Reuben sighed and blew his nose once more into a fresh round of tissues, feeling like he had just been booted back to square one, with the subtle itch taunting at his nostrils again. So close yet so far. It felt like he was always on edge, waiting for the sneeze to build up, or for it to continue to linger in his nostrils so heavily that it made him continually breathe through his mouth.

“Alright Abel, let’s continue with the procedure.” Reuben suggested with a snuffle as he applied his hand sanitizer and picked up the Q-tip. Abel nodded and giggled at the gentleman, pointing at his face this time. He gave her a confused look at first, but then noticed that his glasses had been askew from the sneezing fit. A sheepish grin coats the man’s face as he defeatedly straightens his glasses and runs a hand through his hair as the little girl opened wide once again so that the gentleman could grab the samples that he needed. This time, it went smoothly with no issues, besides the faint hitches from the pediatrician, or the subtle sniffles he would release. “Alright. I’ll get this to the lab; they’ll do a couple tests and I’ll come back to let you know what steps we need to take after we get the results back.” Reuben informed them as he quickly left the room. He starts to release a well needed sigh as he massages the bridge if his nose, but is abruptly interrupted by Lani shoving another document into his face.

"How'd your first patient go? Great. Next patient is Alexander. Ryan had to leave early, so I told him you'd be willing to take over for his patient. You are, aren't you?" Lani asked, hoping that she had caught Reuben red handed and that he was about to give up and take the rest of the day off.

"O-of course." The gentleman says, startled as he tried to straighten up his posture and accept the document. Lani is silent for a moment.

"... Okay. Alexander just needs a simple check up. Shouldn't be too hard on you."

The gentleman nods his thanks and quickly heads into the restroom, needing a short break before he sees his next patient. He rubs his face with a few handfuls of cold water, trying to wake himself up and to give himself a bit of refreshment, and then he wipes away the beads of water into a paper towel. He knew that he didn't look 100% like himself, but it didn't matter. He was going to stay and finish his day off work regardless. He didn't want to let his patients or his co-workers down.

[365lite-blog]

Ooohh i have a request for yaa, can you write about mc caught jumin cheating and she ran away from him, when jumin tried to catch up with mc, he almost got ran over by a car if was not for mc pushing him out of the way, whether mc survive or not is your choice ( I'm an angst freak)

Of course, you did

Pairing:Jumin x reader/MC.Genre:Angst.Disclaimer: Adultery,Car accident.A/N: Thank you for your request! I got so excitedsince it is my first one~ It was hard to write because I cannot possiblyimagine Jumin cheating＼(º □ º l|l)/ I hope you will like it nonetheless♥PS: I am a trash for angst too ahh

She would not cry. She had silently sworn to herself she would not lethim witness what he did not deserve to see. The deepest part of her soul. Thevulnerable assets of her mind she would have willingly given access to him ifhe was not a pure asshole. A bedswerver. Whatever reason he had for achievingsuch a betrayal was not her business anymore. If she wanted to stay on her feetand keep her chin up, she had to move on. Accordingly, she could not affordcaring for his stupid motives.What was even worse was how he kept true to himself. How he stayednothing less than the logical Jumin with his classy attitude that gave him muchmore confidence than he truly had. (Y/n) would never have suspected he couldhave had a one night stand. She was kind of an exception in his life, right? Shedid not have to fear anything since she was her only true love. He never hadinterest in anyone else besides her (except the already taken and lost Rika).At least, that was what he stated. Maybe, in fact, that was what he wanted herto believe.His hand floated uncertainly in the air between them, trying to reachher while still preventing himself from getting hurt by the potentialrejection. Jumin was not an asshole. Nor an evil creature spawned from Hell.What the raven man truly was, was a selfish human. Like many others. So scaredof the illusional Sword of Damocles upon his head, made up by his own unfoundedfears. He would gladly choose destruction over taking any more risks.

- Do not touch me Jumin Han, you are deadto me.

Her words, invading his ears and his mind as if it was absinthe forcedinto his throat, left him with the dismal sensation of actual death. As if hechose (y/n) to be the only judge deciding if he had to be considered dead oralive. At this point, it would not have surprised him if he soon fell to reachhis grave.She turned around, the motion of her hair killing him further with thesweet scent of her shampoo, the one he washed her with when they took a shower togetherin the morning. She heard a heavy knock behind her and trembling fingersgrasped with despair the fabric of her shirt, before she had time to move herfeet far away from his existence. Meticulously, she dared glancing back, onlyto become aware that he had fallen to his knees and would not meet her eyesanymore, choosing the luxurious carpet as a better secure camp. Could he notface the fact that he had been the one raising the red flags first?

- Let me explain…

His voice sounded broken for once; so far from the linear tone she wasused to. Miserable was the most fitting adjective to describe the notes hisvocal cords emitted to form his words. But she still could not afford to care.Not after what he did. He may have seemed torn apart for now, but she was notthe culprit, for he was the one who sought her death days ago.

She realized then that she was still holding his phone with theevidences of his adultery in it. It had been such a coincidence, really. Theywere in bed, cracking really bad jokes and fighting for dominance in their embrace.Jumin was holding her, oh, so tightly, gripping her wrists and forcing themupon her head whenever she barely succeeded in taking advantage. His laugh was(y/n)’s favorite sound. It was so rare and so intimate. He rarely genuinelylaughed with anyone else. And so, when it found its way close to her ear, shegiggled and pleaded for Jumin to meet her eyes. Seconds passed as they were simplycommunicating like this, only chuckles and little teasing moans interruptedtheir silence.

- I love you Jumin Han, sheconfessed with a silly smile before biting her lip to prevent herself fromlaughing at her own childish shyness.

How he was fond of her when she told him those words with that adorableexpression. His free hand traveled on her cheek and he took a moment toappreciate the sight before closing the gap between them and kissing her withdesire.His palm migrated further down, meeting her thigh he grasped with force,pulling it upward so her leg would rest on his lumbar. His hips pushed againsther body, making him groan with delight.And that is when the truth was revealed; because his phone kept onringing, signaling messages of a persistent contact.

- Just ignore it, she said as she saw how he was growing frustrated and distracted. 

He kissed her irresistible smile once more and so it went on for aminute or two. But as the notifications kept on coming, (y/n) grew curious. Itcould have been something important, something related to work that neededJumin’s attention. Thus, she laughed and stretched her arm to take his phone onthe bedside table. They had nothing to hide from each other so they were usedto touching their significant other’s personal items without any second thought. But nothing tohide did not mean nothing kept under the doom of silence. She pressed herfinger on the message notification and started reading the first ones. Quickly,as she realized what was in front of her eyes, her finger slid faster on thetiny screen, making her harshly swallow whatever poison this was.

- Who is it? Assistant Kang? He asked, his impatient hunger making himpant while speaking.

There were so many messages, making references of something he had donewith a girl after a diner with his father and threatening to tell everything to(y/n) if he kept on ignoring their calls. The number was not even saved and therewere no previous chats which meant either he deleted them or the person just succeededin getting his number. Panic was evident on her features and the more she readthe more she felt sick.Seeing her growing anxiety, he stopped kissing her collarbones and went forher neck.

- Kitten, is there a prob-

She pushed him away as she gave him a death glare and he instantly knewwhat could have happened…

Thereby, things degenerated until they were both in the living room,one ready to leave while the other was on his knees. Two adults in love and at theverge of breaking apart.Inevitably, the phone slipped out of her hand, cracking his screen withthe last memories of their past love.Using the little strength and will she had, she forced herself out ofhis grip and headed to the door, hearing him almost crawling behind her as he wasgetting up to catch her once more.Luck might have been on her side as the elevator was just a floor below,but Jumin took no mercy on her and shoved himself inside it before the doorscould completely close.

- Just leave me alone, she warned, a taste like amaroid filling hermouth and making her even more dizzy as her brain rang the alarm that she hadto throw up.

She was about to turn away from him but he pinned her to the wall,making the elevator shake in the process.

- Look at me.

Congratulations to him. Once again, he sounded like the perfect richinsensitive man he pretended so fiercely to be. But (y/n) would not met hiseyes, she knew he still had a chance of impelling her to stay. His fingersclutched her jaw, forcing her to face him properly.

- I said look at me.

This time, she complied, powerless. So many emotions could be read inher aching pupils. He did not want to admit it but he was convinced he sawhatred in them. No matter how much love he still observed, it did not changethe fact that he distorted her perception of him to the point he had to looklike a grotesque monstrosity.

- You cannot force me like this Jumin. This could be called harassment,you know? 

A bitter laugh escaped in between his teeth as a pained smile tore his impassivefeatures.

- You have got to be kidding me (y/n), you are my fiancée, I can touch you as much as I want to. 

- No, I am not! You never asked me, so quit shitting around!

This time she was shouting and he saw the tears in her eyes, leaving himan instant in a deadpan state. She took advantage of it and pushed him awaywhen the doors finally opened.As she ran in the hallway to get as far away as possible from him, she beganto sob violently. Who knew why she thought of it at that moment but sheremembered their first date. He brought her a beautiful bouquet along with anecklace, stating that she was his from now on and that she had to always wearthis sign of property so it may be visible to any other man. She clearly recalledthe sensation of his digits brushing against her skin when he placed one of herlocks behind her ear before pulling her into a carefully chaste kiss. He loved her,she was certain of that. He loved her so much, even for an instant, he had beenwilling to give up all the barriers he created to protect himself… To be withher.But fear always catches up,no matter who you are and it becomes up to you whether to bend or straighten.Therefore, it appeared that Jumin was still scared of the monsters in his head.She heard him shouting her name multiple times, along with rushingfootsteps. How could this story end like this? Was it not supposed to be a Good Ending? If only she had known, shewould have never let him leave her side even for a second. She would have constrainedhim, forced the Bad Ending even ifthat was not a solution…She had been crossing the road without noticing. Not that it matteredanymore. Except when she heard him once more and it drew her back to awareness.Her attention went spontaneously to the side, realizing a car was coming theirway and had no time to prevent an accident. As if the world turned in slowmotion, she faced Jumin just when he was reaching her. When he saw thehorrified stare of her iris, he looked to his right and saw the car too. But,before he could react, (y/n) shoved him off, his body falling heavily on theasphalt while he wanted to save her instead.The strength from the adrenaline she got and the impact of his bodyagainst the bitumen stunned him for a second and, before he could open his eyesagain, he heard what felt like the most disturbing and mind invading soundever. Everything happened so fast, he barely even saw her hitting the car beforebeing propelled onto the ground. He wanted to scream, to call her but histhroat was choked by raw horror. His life, his universe, his most valuabletreasure… This could not be happening. He ran to her, suffocating on his ownpanic, incapable of thinking rationally anymore.

- (Y/n), my love… Please, open your eyes…

His fingers caressed her skin as he wanted to place a lock behind herear, registering, shortly after, that his hand was covered in blood and thatthere was even more of it on the ground where her head laid. 

- I am begging you, (Y/n) …

He planted a desperate kiss on her forehead before brushing his own hairto get them out of the way, leaving red marks wherever his phalanges went.

- Stay with me…

After that, he became numb to the situation. He felt nothing more thanthe violent agony in his chest as if something was trying to tear him open, torip him inside out. But his mind was blank and his muscles were too heavy tomove. The ambulance came fast, fortunately. His memories of what happenedbecame blurry the more the minutes passed. He had no souvenir of what the ERtold him either. Only vaguely answered their questions and just discerned anyinformation concerning his lover’s condition. When one of them tried toreassure him that they would take good care of her as they were heading to theoperating room, he barked violently, swearing he would destroy their lives ifthey did not bring her back to him. How futile it was to push something afarjust to beg for it once it was starting to be gone. Was it not what he wanted?To confirm his theory that he was better on his own? That (y/n) would find away or another to leave him?

At some point, Jihyun was here. Had Jumin called him? Probably.His friend kept silent. Only tried to calm him down when the doctorsannounced that (y/n) was in a deep coma and that she may never recover from thecognitive damages. He waited patiently with him until Jumin decided one day totell what happened. He was stroking (y/n)’s hair, unaware even someone in thecoma could hear what he said. He explained how he was drunk and scared becausehe realized more and more each day that he loved her beyond reason. He toldhis childhood friend how his father said he should not love her this muchbecause he would end up with a broken heart. Lastly, he talked about the girl,a complete and avid stranger who tried to convince him he needed to take a fewsteps away from (y/n) to clear his mind because, of course, they overheard hisconversation with his father in the restaurant and used it to their advantage.They started making out but all the wine in the world was not enough to preventhim from realizing what he was doing and he left the girl half-naked in thehotel room. Disgust forcing him to be sober again when all he wanted was toforget that disaster. After telling the story, he laughed ironically when headmitted that he had been planning on asking her to marry him, proclaiming hehad to be even more idiotic than his father.Maybe, just maybe, he had the tiniest excuse, barely sufficient for asecond chance. Jihyun thought so, but who knew since the only person capable offorgiveness was monitored from head to toes and unconscious?

Months had passed in which (y/n) had reeducation exercises and Jihyunmade sure to be there for her all the way. Jumin, on the other hand, wasnowhere to be found, as if he had vanished from her life or had simply neverbeen in it. Devouring himself in torment, avoiding her on the applicationmessenger or in any friends meeting, even isolating himself in his office andtravelling so much for business it seemed as if he lived in airports and hotels.She soon realized that her treatment was given by the best, most expensivespecialists and that she was not disbursing a cent for it. She dared to ask theazure man if he was the one paying, but the innocent smile he gave her wasenough to understand. Jumin had never truly left her side. He still took careof her. With his own clumsy signature…

A year later, RFA had organized a new party.

(Y/n) arrived at the reception in Jihyun’s arm. She still needed monthlyreeducation and thankfully accepted his suggestion that he should be hercavalier for the early stage of the party. To begin with, she talked about thelast few preparations with Jaehee but her mind was elsewhere, gazing at thedoor, waiting for a certain man to come in. This time, Jumin had no issue, he wouldnot be able to hide from her. So, when she spotted dark locks and the suit ofthe Devil’s advocate, she excused herself and went straightly for him.A finger called for attention on the executive director’s shoulder andhe turned around before freezing on his spot.

- Yes, she said without any other greeting.

- What do you mea- Oh.

He adjusted his oversleeve, trying to keep his stature, as she showedhim the ring lovingly displayed on the forth finger of her left hand.

- I assume Jihyun proposed to you for me, he declared with relievedamusement.

- Yes. And since it was him who proposed, I obviously accepted.

She chaffed him, smiling proudly as her arms wrapped themselves aroundhis neck while his hands embraced her waist he had not met for too long.

- Of course, you did, helaughed.

___________

A/N: I need happy endings, ok? Bear with me, Iam fragile ㅠㅠ

[misssophiachase]

So, I've decided to pair this next chapter of my story with an inspired prompt by the awesome @supremeuppityone. "Witches are much more dry - they pair best with a crisp Chardonnay." It actually fit so well with my already written content, so thanks, luv!

Thanks talented Paula for the amazeballs cover @howeverlongs 

Part 9: Superstition

"Very superstitious, writings on the wall."

The Old Absinthe House, Bourbon St French Quarter - Friday PM

"I think I can guess whose face you're imagining on that target," Enzo whistled. Caroline regarded her sixth straight bullseye proudly before turning to face him.

"I asked if I could attach a picture for better accuracy but, given his King of New Orleans status, that sort of activity is frowned upon around here apparently," she growled, taking a shot of absinthe from the bar. Caroline felt a little woozy but wasn't surprised given she'd lost count of her alcohol intake.

"He's always had this annoying way of taking the fun out of everything," Enzo said knowingly, gesturing the barman for a drink. "Want to talk about it, gorgeous?"

"Not really," she muttered, taking a seat next to him at the bar. "I have no intention of making the same mistake as I did the first time we met."

"Oh, you mean when you bad mouthed Niklaus not knowing my identity? I don't know what you're talking about, I enjoyed myself immensely."

"I could tell," she drawled. "It doesn't matter anyway, I have no intention of wasting my time or energy on that arrogant, manipulative ass that seems to think honesty is beneath him."

"To be fair he was terrorised as a child," Enzo said, his somewhat serious tone telling her he was only half joking. "And most probably dropped on his head a few dozen times. Plus he did have to go through life with Kol, Elijah and Rebekah as siblings."

"You do realise she's your girlfriend, right?"

"We have a love hate relationship," he admitted. "Plus, it makes the sex so much more intense."

"I think I'm going to need another drink," she groaned.

"Stop changing the subject."

"I really don't want to discuss your sex life," she shot back, knocking back her drink in one go.

"As much as I'd love to boast about my sexual prowess, you know what I'm talking about, darling," he chided. "You might as well talk about it because, between you and me, all the absinthe in the world isn't going to make it go away."

"Yeah, if you believe Klaus unfortunately I'm stuck with him, forever."

Caroline was pissed, in fact she'd been pretty unbearable since escaping Celeste's clutches a fortnight ago and it wasn't just because she hated that evil cow. Klaus had lied to her, not once but twice. First, being under some love spell and now about the whole mates' bombshell. She'd gone through a gambit of emotions beginning with denial, then onto shock and back to denial. It hadn't helped matters when Bonnie and Katherine had mentioned how distressed he'd been upon finding out she was missing and that it was his mental flashes that had brought him to her rescue.

"The mating bond isn't quite so black and white." Caroline looked at him curiously. As much as she wanted to hide away from all things mate themed, she also needed to know how it worked. Caroline decided to blame that on her ignorance too because she might have been a little confused feelings wise. "You can choose to reject the bond, it isn't a compulsory attachment."

"You mean?"

"Just because Klaus has accepted it doesn't mean you have to, Caroline." Rather than be buoyed by Enzo's statement and the fact she had an exit strategy, she was far too distracted by his confirmation that Klaus had embraced their bond.

"You must be mistaken," she said dismissively, thinking the absinthe was messing with her head. "Klaus doesn't feel that way, I mean he pretended to be under a love spell..."

"He may of been acting then but that didn't mean his feelings weren't real," Enzo shared. "I'll admit, Klaus is a grumpy, impulsive bastard a lot of the time most recently while you were missing but he cares for his family and as much as you don't believe it, he cares for you too. Maybe more than you'll ever know." Caroline was silent, she wasn't sure how long for but she needed to let his words sink in properly. He loved her? He wanted to be her mate? It was all too much to comprehend, especially after so many drinks.

"He deceived me," she managed to finally bite out. "He's lied and manipulated this whole situation to his benefit at my expense. I know what kind of man he is Enzo and nothing, not even a mating bond, will ever erase that fact. We are nothing alike. He kills and schemes and makes people suffer. I can't love someone like that, I'd never let myself."

"Maybe if you spoke to him then you'd..."

"What? So he can feed me more lies?" She baulked, standing up abruptly. "I may be blonde but I'm not stupid, Enzo."

"Trust me Klaus isn't that bad a liar," he countered before realising what he'd implied. "I didn't mean you..." Caroline didn't respond, just held up a spare dart and aimed it squarely at his face. "No need to be so unfriendly, gorgeous, I was only trying to help." She threw the dart, missing his face by mere inches and watching as it sailed through the air and landed on the bullseye.

"And here I thought your witchy powers weren't quite in sync yet," he complimented her perfect aim.

"Oh, that's just me, no witchcraft required," she confirmed, puffing her chest out proudly.

"Care to teach me, darling? This could be a really neat party trick."

"Maybe another time," she answered. "I have a date with an Original Hybrid."

"Why doesn't it sound like a warm, fuzzy kind of date?"

"If he's lucky I'll bring that white oak stake..."

"Caroline."

"I'm not stupid Enzo," she growled. "I know that's the only reason you came here. Wouldn't want me killing Rebekah's brother, right? I imagine it would make things pretty awkward relationship wise."

"Believe it or not, I was telling the truth." Caroline groaned sarcastically by way of response. "Klaus is a big boy and I'm pretty sure he can take care of himself but if not just know that it will be his weakness that may well kill him."

"Weakness?"

"His mate..." She felt a sharp stabbing pain in her chest and Caroline knew she needed to leave before she betrayed any emotions. If Enzo continued she wouldn't have heard it she was gone that fast. Why did that world have to mess with her so much? All Caroline knew was that Klaus was going to pay.

Spellbound, French Quarter, Saturday AM

"So, you just kiss and leave? You're many things Bonnie Bennett but I didn't think kiss 'em and leave 'em was your style, darling," Kol chided, carefully reading the potion labels stacked neatly on the shelf. Why he couldn't just buy something instead of persusing the merchandise she'd never understand.

"I was under duress."

"Most people cry or freak out not assault the nearest warm body."

"Assault?" She baulked, unable to keep her composure from his smug ass. Inventory was well and truly on the back burner for now. "You certainly weren't complaining from memory, Mikaelson."

"I was in shock," he scoffed, rifling through the incense and picking up selected sticks to smell. The dimples he was flashing slyly in her direction were telling Bonnie the last state he was in was shock.

"I'm going to have to start an incense tab if you insist on stealing it every time," she growled. "Now, does this little visit have a purpose?"

"I'm worried about the witch."

"You're going to have to be more specific, after all there are a few of us in these parts."

"Your little friend Caroline," he huffed impatiently. "I'm concerned about her state of mind and given certain complications..."

"That's an interesting way to describe a white oak stake," Bonnie chuckled.

"So you know about it?"

"I'm not at all interested in playing this game."

"Sounds familiar," he drawled, dropping the incense.

"I'm so sick of the Mikaelson family using manipulation to further their causes at the expense of everyone else. Quite frankly it's getting old Kol and I have no intention of playing anymore. To be honest, I'm just too exhausted."

"That's rich," he accused. "You played games the moment you abandoned me because I was a Mikaelson and wasn't good enough." Bonnie inhaled sharply, doing all she could to keep her composure, even if her frazzled insides were telling another story.

"You have a funny rendition of history. And given the way you're acting right now it was probably the best decision I've ever made." It was cruel yes, she noticed him wince slightly before maintaining his usual steeley composure.

"And you are a bad liar."

"Excuse me?"

"Your heart betrays you everytime Bonnie."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I can hear you," he murmured, his brown eyes searching hers. She didn't respond immediately, too worked up and confused by his comment. He moved closer, his gaze never faltering. "I can hear everything." Before she could question him further, he placed his hand on her racing heart gently. She was fairly certain that the world stopped at that very moment. She loved the evil bastard and there was nothing she could do about it.

"We have an emergency."

"You always did have impeccable timing big brother," Kol growled, moving his hand away awkwardly.

"I specifically said wait for the right moment," Katherine chided, giving Elijah an annoyed eyeroll for extra effect. "That right there is cliffhanger territory and now I'm going to have to wait for the next episode."

"I'm sorry if we have more pressing issues right now, Miss Pierce," Elijah scowled. "If your friend succeeds in her revenge, that white oak stake could wipe out a whole blood line of vampires. The repercussions will be immense."

"And like I said that effects us how exactly?" Katherine baulked.

"Ms Bennett might like to explain the logistics further..." Katherine's gaze flew to Bonnie, so too Kol. She'd never imagined the truth would come out like this but knowing what Bonnie knew she needed to stop her friend from something they would all regret for different reasons.

Couturie Forrest, New Orleans - Saturday PM

"I'm actually surprised you agreed to see me after what transpired..."

"Oh you mean after you lied for the second time." Caroline cut him off tersely, pulling out the variety of foods she'd prepared in a flurry of nerves, denial and shock from the picnic basket, the white oak stake hidden safely in the corner.

"I was wrong," he conceded, his blue eyes pleading with hers silently. "I may have walked this earth for over a thousand years but still don't have the ability to deal with unexpected emotions."

"Like being mates?"

"Exactly like that.."

"I assumed you knew all along," Caroline murmured.

"I'll admit, it wasn't until we kissed at the cemetery that it all fell into place," he promised. "I'd been drawn to you for a while before that though.."

"Was that during your whole stalking phase?"

"I don't blame you for being hostile, this was a shock to me at the time and I'll admit I haven't handled things in the best possible way but I'm willing to address these matters now."

"Wine?" She mumbled, shoving the glass bottle into his chest before he could continue. Caroline had no intention of entertaining any unexpected and unwanted emotions. Klaus Mikaelson had already done enough damage. He didn't respond immediately, just poured the golden liquid equally into the two glasses.

"I didn't take you for the chardonnay type, love."

"Witches are much more dry, they pair best with a crisp Chardonnay."

"Now it all makes perfect sense," he teased, holding up his glass and clinking it with hers. "Do you think that's a rightful toast?" Caroline was struggling to concentrate, his blue eyes were boring into hers, his spicy scent was infiltrating her nostrils unwelcomingly and the walls she'd built were close to crashing into a million pieces. She decided then and there that the mating bond was pure evil.

"How about we drink to honesty," she offered, noticing his eyes downcast. Someone was obviously feeling a little guilty.

"You want honesty?" He asked, placing his glass on the ground. Caroline silently cursed his actions given they interfered with her ultimate plan. "I don't know much about love and I was an idiot and went about this the wrong way but it's only because I.."

"Cheers," Caroline intervened, clinking her glass with his, the L word would have well and truly thrown her off course and that was the last thing she needed. "I'll drink to that." He didn't respond at first just regarded her dubiously then lifted the glass and took a sip.

"I had that vision of us being in Couturie Forest when you were missing and then you suggested this outing today so I knew we were on the same wavelength."

"What?" Caroline squeaked, suddenly annoyed he'd fallen into her trap so swiftly. "You saw us here?"

"We were having a picnic but I don't recall the chardonnay, hence my surprise," he chuckled. She wanted to steal his glass and continue with the conversation but given the truth serum she'd used and its potency, Caroline knew it would soon be too late. What had she gotten herself into?

xxxx

"If I'd known we were going cross country, I would have worn more appropriate footwear," Katherine whined.

"And I would have gone to the gym a few more times," Kol complained. "What the hell are we doing in the middle of nowhere?"

"You invited her," Bonnie accused at the same time Elijah chimed into the conversation.

"You invited him and given your history I assumed you'd know his physical limitations." Bonnie was tempted to react defensively but it was obvious the Mikaelson family gossip had gone full circle and she figured this was extra ammunition to torture the unfortunately loveable idiot senseless afterwards.

xxxx

"I love you," he murmured, squeezing her hand affectionately, his blue eyes staring earnestly into hers. She'd asked him multiple questions hoping that she was right and he would be the heartless bastard she expected. At least then she could move on freely.

"You what?" Caroline squeaked, pulling her hand away shakily. It was one thing when he was pretending to be in love with her but now the truth serum she'd secretly administered in revenge had well and truly set in, the results were more frightening than she'd ever imagined.

"You're my mate..."

"And that's why you love me?"

"No," he insisted. "I loved you before I even knew you were my mate."

"Why?"

"I related to your life experiences," he began. "You felt like an outcast, so did I, every day of my life. My father killed my pet horse on my birthday without an apology and you may have been scared of the dark but it was the light that taunted me as a young boy."

"I..." she was paralysed with something resembling shock and fear. The way he was swaying slightly, his words beginning to slur, Caroline knew she'd gone too far in pursuit of the truth.

"When the world seems to shine like you've had to much wine..." he sang loudly, breaking into a loud chuckle before he could finish the lyrics. Obviously truth serum plus alcohol was a pretty potent combination unbeknownst to the young and inexperienced witch. Caroline was madly trying to fix the situation when a familiar voice interrupted.

"You spiked the wine!" Elijah drawled. "You sneaky..."

"Witch?" Kol finished.

"Not helping."

"Well, between you and me I'm rather enjoying this little display," Kol offered. "Niklaus is always so bloody highly strung."

"I am fun with a capital F," he interrupted drunkenly, sending a wink in his sibling's direction. "Now, can someone please pass me more wine?"

"I think you've had enough," Elijah shot back, rolling his eyes as she did it.

"You're no fun, dad," he teased, attempting to reach for the bottle but failing clumsily.

"Yeah Elijah, let him have more wine. I for one am enjoying this immensely," Kol teased. "I'm just waiting for him to start dancing badly so I can take incriminating pictures for blackmailing purposes."

"Has anyone suggested some serious family therapy?" Katherine interrupted. "Because from what I can see there's ample cause for it."

"Sweet Caroline," Klaus sang, badly off key. "Good times never seemed so good..."

"This isn't finished Ms Forbes," Elijah grunted, his arm linking with his brothers and guiding him away, Kol at his side. Bonnie and Katherine held her hands comfortingly but at that moment she was far too confused. One because of what she'd done and two because her whole body ached now Klaus was gone.

On FF HERE

[tonystarkstoga]

“I choose Vodka”

This is part of a weekly prompt-filling event I do with the wonderful and lovely @tonystarktogo . This is a mix of my own ideas and @tonystarktogo's related ask-series. I have a feeling that about half of the asks were mine, because I enjoyed the game so much, and the other half were pretty awesome, too, so I decided (with their permission) to write a little more about it. 

“I choose Vodka.”

“Of course you do,” Tony smirks and hands Natasha the bottle. It’s a challenge, because she was the first to choose, and now they’re prompted to find similarly strong drinks, simply for reasons of fairness. Thor, who had at first been confused by the request to ‘choose his poison’, settles for some of the strong Asgardian stuff he has stored away. After a brief, unanimous vote, Steve is condemned to partake in Thor’s special mead, simply because nothing else would be strong enough to affect him, and everyone really wants to get him drunk. Tony and Clint choose to share an assortment of flavoured vodka - starting with strawberry, because it’s the sweetest, and Clint needs to ‘numb his tongue a bit’, he says. Bruce chooses absinthe - a brave choice, alcohol wise, but the safest, he explains.

“It’s the only type of alcohol that really makes me calmer.” They all mimick his shrug. Nobody really expects Bruce to have to drink a lot, anyway. And a code green with a bunch of drunk Avengers around seems like a very bad idea. Not that any of this isn’t the setup for a really bad idea anyway.

“Alright, who’ll start?” Tony asks, once they’ve all got their glasses and bottles stashed next to them. There are a few snacks on the table, and water in case anyone needs any. Natasha and him exchange challenging glances, but in the end it is Bruce who starts. It takes a few rounds to get everyone - Thor in particular - to grasp the rules, and even though they are simple enough there are still occasional discussions whether “this or that” counts enough to have to drink. Of course, things always count.

“Never have I ever been caught having sex.” It’s a question everyone had expected to come up, although they probably would have pictured Tony to ask it. In fact, it is Steve who asks - and, to everyone’s surprise, they all drink, including Steve himself.

“It is not a rare occurrence where I come from, but I had expected it to be less common on Midgard,” Thor states.

“Gotta have fun somehow,” Clint chuckles. As it turns out, Clint has a lot of fun, in a lot of different ways, and he’s very willing to share all of them with the class. He is what Tony dubs The Shameless One™ in his head. If there’s any way to turn an innocent question sexual, Clint knows how to do it. Maybe that is his secret super power. And the archer doesn’t even wait for any of them to be properly drunk before starting with the freaky stuff. Not that Tony really minds, he can deal with freaky. It’s the personal stuff he likes to avoid, and while everyone’s focused on freaky, he has a good opportunity to do just that. Steve also has some effective ways of avoiding talking about his mysterious sex life (apparently, it exists after all, and Tony owes some people money). Creating diversions, starting discussions or simply focusing on the juicy details of other people’s stories usually distract everyone enough to leave Steve alone.

While Tony tries to keep it light-hearted - another effort to avoid personal questions and experiences - Natasha is his exact opposite. Her questions are personal on purpose, they’re based on things she knows about people and only fall short of ‘mean’ because she knows not to take things too far. At least while she’s still sober. As the game moves on, her strategy changes from exposure to curiosity. She starts asking things she doesn’t know.

“Never have I ever been scared to ask someone out.”

Her eyes are fixed on Tony and he knows it without looking up. He drinks, as do all the other guys. Everyone except Natasha herself, which is not much of a surprise except perhaps in Tony’s case. Because Tony doesn’t even need to ask, does he? It’s hard for the others to imagine there’s any woman - besides Natasha - he hasn’t been in bed with yet. But Tony knows this isn’t about meaningless flings and his public playboy persona. Natasha doesn’t pry, but he catches the corner of her mouth twitching into a satisfied smirk. She’s on to something, and he doesn’t really like the thought of that. Luckily, the next few questions allow him to drink some more, and the strawberry vodka is gone more quickly than he had anticipated.

“My turn,” Steve sits up straight and looks at them for a moment. He actually seems a little tipsy, which is promising and motivating all of them to keep the game going. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm.”

Both Natasha and Tony immediately down their shots, no hesitation, no questions asked. Nobody is surprised, really. Neither are they when Steve himself doesn’t drink. After all, they’ve just gotten over the shock that he has sex at all. But then a feral grin spreads across Natasha’s face.

So, this fill did get a little longer than expected. So, if you like, you can find the rest of it here on AO3 (link), because the read more function doesn’t work properly on mobiles.

[a-fangirls-imagination-blog]

Home (yoonseok)

Yoongi greeted the customer opposite him with a surly glare, drying beer glasses with a cloth. "What would you like?"

"Do you serve cocktails? I see a list there, but it's all covered over." The smiling stranger leaned on the bar as he gestured to an old menu on the wall, dusty and half-covered by glass racks.

Yoongi sighed through his nose and rather forcefully put the last glass on its rack. He leaned against the counter. "Cocktails aren't served here. This place doesn't have no happy hour, because everyone who comes here are either sour bastards or on the run. Now what would you like?"

The stranger's smile faltered slightly before he ordered a scotch on the rocks. "That's a shame."

Yoongi grunted and pulled a Johnnie Walker from the shelves on the wall. "It is. Look at this place." He gestured at the dimly lit tables and bitter-faced people scattered around. "You wouldn't believe how packed it used to be."

The stranger gazed around as Yoongi poured whiskey over ice. It was pretty hard to imagine this dusty hole-in-the-wall establisment as the go-to joint on weekends. He nodded his thanks as Yoongi pushed his drink across the bar, noticing the lack of a coaster. "No coaster?"

"Some prankster stole them years ago. I never bothered to replace them because the counter's never clean anyways." Yoongi emphasised his point by fruitlessly rubbing at one of the stains on the bar.

Silence settled like the dust on the menu. The stranger took a sip of his whiskey. "So, I'm Jung Hoseok. Who're you?"

"That doesn't matter. You're going to leave anyways." Yoongi started wiping down the sink.

Hoseok put down his glass, amusement lacing his thoughts. "You don't know that."

Yoongi paused, looking up at Hoseok. "You're going to stay in this shithole of a town? Amazing." He shifted his weight to one arm, leaning on the edge of the sink. "I'm honestly curious now."

Hoseok laughed, a sound completely foreign to the bar after half the townsfolk left for the city. "Just... personal reasons. Nothing to do with you, pretty boy, rest assured."

Yoongi rolled his eyes, memories of music and people and the clinking of glasses ghosting through his mind.

Hoseok paid and left the bar soon after that, but his sunny laughter stayed mingling with the dust, reminding Yoongi of times gone by. He slumped against the counter, trying not to remember.

The next morning, the relatively sullen atmosphere was broken by Hoseok's arrival. He entered the bar with a flourish and sat down on the same rickety bar stool. "I have something for you."

Yoongi scowled, arms craned around his torso to tie his apron. "What?"

Hoseok pulled an envelope out of his pocket and dropped it on the bar.

Yoongi eyed the envelope suspiciously as he finished off the knot. "If this is money-"

"Oh, just open it."

Yoongi picked up the envelope and ripped open the top. Inside was a stack of thin cardboard coasters. He looked at Hoseok. "Really? I tell you one problem and you go and try to fix it."

"But you're happy." Hoseok watched as Yoongi fought down the corners of his mouth.

"I'm not. What would you like?"

"Actually, I wanted a cocktail." Hoseok glanced sheepishly at Yoongi.

Yoongi paused almost imperceptibly, his eyes darting around the peeling walls. "Alright."

"Really?" Hoseok leaned forwards, concerned. This grumpy, nameless bartender was going to make him a cocktail when he only seemed pained by it? "You could refuse, you know."

"I don't go back on my word, Hoseok." Yoongi met Hoseok's gaze dead on. "What cocktail?"

"Uh... a Flaming Voodoo Julep."

Yoongi's eyebrows creased. "A what? No, first thing- what's in it?"

Hoseok grinned. He could see some of the old bartending spirit beginning to show through. "I don't know the names of the liquor, but I know the bottles. Do you mind if I..." He made a walking gesture to indicate coming around to where Yoongi was standing.

Yoongi's glare deepened, but at length he grunted his affirmation. "Eight years ago, I would have whooped your ass for asking that."

Hoseok laughed as he left his stool. "You are a man of your word."

They scanned through the liquors under the counter and on the shelves, Yoongi steering a laughing Hoseok away from as many tangents as possible. "Oh, there. That bottle, and that one." Hoseok pointed at a Creme de Menthe and a Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey.

Yoongi's mind looped through his rusty recollection of cocktails as he took the bottles down, and he drew a blank when it came to mixing the two. "Are you sure this is a cocktail?"

Hoseok nodded, his eyes still roving the shelves. "My local bartender made it for me all the time... hey, do you have a storeroom here by any chance?"

Yoongi shifted slightly. "Well, of course."

"Can I take a peek?"

A resigned sigh left Yoongi's lips as he realised there was no stopping the other man now. He picked up the two bottles along with a glass and glanced around the bar again to check for any troublemakers, before leading Hoseok into a dim, musty room behind the shelves and flicking on a buzzing light in the center of the room that tried its best to illuminate the stained table beneath it.

Hoseok's eyes adjusted to the gloom, and he saw all four walls of the room lined with shelves upon shelves of bottles, many unopened. "Wow. You're loaded with alcohol." He began scanning the shelves for the remaining liquors.

Yoongi leaned against the table and watched Hoseok peer at bottle after bottle, images and conversations springing unbidden into his head. He remembered how he and his friends had sat at this very table, experimenting with this liquor and that, and the excitement whenever a new combo had made itself known.

"I found them!" Hoseok's triumphant voice pulled him back to the present. He put a bottle of absinthe and a Damiana on the table along with the two others. "Do you mind if I tell you how to make it?"

Yoongi frowned, obviously displeased, but he followed Hoseok's instructions, even going as far as to prepare the absinthe properly before adding it to the drink. The end result was a clear golden mix, distinguishable from tap beer only by its sharp smell.

Hoseok smiled at Yoongi, the dim lamplight making his eyes shine. "Thanks for this." He turned the glass slowly on the worn tabletop.

Yoongi watched the refracted light bounce around the glass. "How come you're so invested in this cocktail?"

Hoseok lifted the glass to his lips and sipped slowly, eyes closed. A pause. "Because it tastes like home."

The room was silent.

Yoongi kept his eyes on the table. "Home, huh."

The glass was suddenly tilted towards him. "Want to try it? It's your handiwork, after all."

Yoongi raised his eyes to Hoseok's, head coursing with emotions he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt heady, like he had taken alcohol for the first time all over again. "Sure."

He leaned across the table and kissed the Flaming Voodoo Julep off Hoseok's lips.

Hoseok stayed where he was, glass still tilted. "...Oh. Wasn't expecting that." He grinned at Yoongi, more than a little thrown by the other's expression. "I thought you were trying it from the glass, not me."

Suddenly embarrased, Yoongi turned away. "Sorry."

"That's alright." Hoseok's voice was suddenly much closer than before. "In fact, I wouldn't mind if that happened again."

Yoongi kept still, barely daring to breathe. The light flickered and buzzed before it was switched off. He felt Hoseok's hands slide down his arms to hold his own. "Turn around, would you?" The whisper fell on his shoulder.

He turned slowly, tentative hands reaching out in the dark. He felt himself be lifted to sit on the edge of the table and muffled his surprise when Hoseok pushed in close, a hand curling around the back of his head and lips brushing his own with the bittersweet sharpness of the drink. "Do you mind...?"

"I don't." Yoongi's answer was embarrasingly breathy, but he forgot about that when Hoseok stole the breath from his lungs in a gentle kiss, one hand cradling the nape of his neck and the other loose around his waist.

Hoseok pulled away, leaning his forehead on Yoongi's. He chuckled, low and airy, as he felt the other's fingers play with the hair at the back of his head. "Well?"

A stuttered breath was the other's response. "Th-that wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"You thought I wasn't a good kisser?" Hoseok teased. "Is that what you were thinking about when you first saw me?"

"No, I..." Yoongi dropped his head to Hoseok's shoulder, ghosts of laughter and chatter playing like a reel of film behind his eyes. "You make me think back to when things were better."

Hoseok sighed into the other's hair. "Is that a good thing?"

Yoongi closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

Quiet played for a beat, before Hoseok realised he still didn't know the person he was holding. "You never told me your name."

"...It's Yoongi." The words were barely discernible.

"Well, Yoongi..." Hoseok trailed his fingers from the back of Yoongi's neck down his jaw. "I'll try to make remembering the better days a good thing." He lifted Yoongi's chin and kissed him again.

[wineanddinosaur]

High-Quality Absinthe Is Finally Having Its Moment in America

Absinthe has long held a special intrigue in the minds of imbibers, and when updated regulations in 2007 effectively allowed for a large-scale reintroduction of the spirit in the United States, a surge in popularity was expected — only it didn’t really happen. Initial interest was largely tied to old myths and the mystique of a taboo, and that attention waned as quickly as it arose. In recent years, though, absinthe has made a real return, fueled by a few factors: U.S. craft distilleries producing their own renditions, a more developed cocktail scene, and bars that celebrate traditions like absinthe service, water fountains and all.

“I think the most exciting thing about absinthe right now is that it’s sloughed off the novelty tag that it had during the first few years it was reintroduced in the States,” says Brian Robinson, a spirits collector and absinthe aficionado, as well as a partner in Columbia Room, a renowned Washington, D.C., bar. “Instead, many people now view it as almost a necessity in a fully stocked bar because so many cocktails call for it, even if you’re not doing the full drip ritual.”

A Traditional Approach

That ritual, though, is at the heart of how some bars and restaurants are approaching and showcasing absinthe, allowing guests to participate in a tried-and-true tasting experience. At Jeune et Jolie in Carlsbad, Calif., beverage director Leigh Lecap offers a wide-ranging lineup of different absinthes available with traditional service, highlighted as a fundamental piece of the establishment’s identity with a cherub-adorned marble fountain in the center of the bar with piped-in, properly chilled water.

Photo by Jake Emen

“Jeune’s cuisine is a reaction to the current trend of bistronomy in Paris and how the new guard of chefs are interpreting classic French cuisine,” Lecap explains. “We’ve embraced the Nouvelle concept of adopting global influences, obeying the seasons, celebrating locality, and paying a lot of attention to composition. In a way, we thought the bar program should mirror our kitchen’s sentiment and honor an era in France when the country as a whole experienced a renaissance in art, literature, and science, and adopted new ways of thinking and perceiving. Absinthe soaked the thread woven between all those things.”

To honor that thread, Jeune et Jolie has even instituted L’Heure Verte, or “The Green Hour,” an all-things absinthe late-night happy hour of sorts, late on Friday or Saturday nights. “With the consumer, there are always still questions of whether or not it’s real, or ‘will I hallucinate?’, which is my favorite,” Lecap says. “A couple quick facts about when the ban was lifted in the U.S. and what ingredients in the distillation make absinthe what it is, usually does the trick. Explaining absinthe is — more often than not — enlightening and incredibly enchanting. There’s nothing else like it.”

At West Main Crafting Co. in Lexington, Ky., Jonathan Laurel has put absinthe at the forefront of his offerings as well, including in cocktails and traditional fountain-style service, and offers an environment where imbibers can taste in an environment built for education and dialogue. “The average absinthe drinker — even the experienced ones — still have plenty of questions about absinthe chemistry, styles, history, and tasting,” he says.

For Laurel, West Main fills an important gap in the beverage space. The country has plenty of whiskey or agave bars, for instance, “but not yet a program like ours where you can drink an absinthe, read tasting notes, and taste individual tinctures that illustrate those notes,” he says.

Beyond an educational approach and a deep selection, using a traditional fountain was an essential part of what West Main envisioned with its absinthe offerings. “The iconic golden-age apparatus for diluting absinthe was the fountain, an artistic, elaborate silver stand with a bowl of ice water in the top and individual spouts,” he says. “We couldn’t do absinthe service without offering this pillar of the experience — it’s such a spectacle and it captures people’s imagination.”

Photo by West Main

Absinthe Made in the USA

A range of distilleries are now trying their hands at quality all-American absinthe. Philadelphia Distilling, for instance, produces Vieux Carré Absinthe Supérieure, which was initially released at the end of 2008 as the “first legal absinthe to be distilled, bottled, and sold on the East Coast of the United States” in nearly a century.

Robinson points to brands such as Delaware Phoenix, Leopold Brothers, Lawrenceville Distilling, Tenth Ward, and Mt. Defiance, as among his favorite American producers. “They’re all doing great work by integrating historical protocols and ingredients with slight twists to make them their own,” he says. “All of them are great representations of the category, and they all seem to be doing it as a labor of love, which shows in the final product.”

The Absinthe Verte from St. George Spirits is another bottle to know. The lauded distillery infuses brandy with wormwood, fennel, and star anise, distills the infusion, and then infuses again with botanicals such as mint, tarragon, hyssop, and stinging nettles. The company suggests serving its absinthe with a single ice cube and no sugar, or using it in a classic cocktail.

Some of the most widely available American absinthes come from Louisville brandy producer Copper & Kings, which produces two absinthes in its lineup, an Absinthe Blanche, as well as a barrel-aged offering. “We also have some sublime absinthe aging in port and in sherry now that is over four years old, and ridiculous,” founder Joe Heron says. He calls absinthe a “distiller’s paradise in terms of botanical engineering,” and notes that original absinthe had brandy as a base as well. “We wanted to celebrate the history and the heritage, and to showcase our own brandy distillation competence.”

As with St. George, Copper & Kings also recommends skipping the sugar cube during a traditional service. “We do not add sugar to the spirit, with the botanicals, such as fennel, licorice, anise, and black pepper (which distills sweet) all sweet enough already,” Heron says. “The sugar cube is really for spiky absinthe made with grain-neutral spirits.”

Photo by Copper & Kings Absinthe

Classic Cocktails & New Riffs

At Jeune et Jolie, Lecap relishes the opportunity to showcase absinthe in a broad range of cocktails. “It’s a fun challenge to remind people of absinthe’s versatility,” he says. “It doesn’t just bury every drink that contains it. I think tiki really opens the door for the inclusion of absinthe in cocktails the way it lends itself to warm spices and tropical flavors. And even as bartenders, we forget how absinthe is used across the spectrum of drink styles, from the Sazerac and Robert Burns, to the No 2. versions of both the Tuxedo and Corpse Reviver.”

An example of that versatility is seen on Lecap’s menu, where he also offers an absinthe frappé. The refreshing serve is about as far removed on the flavor spectrum from the spirituous, bold Sazerac as possible.

“Absinthe cocktails serve as a genius gateway for people,” Laurel says. “Just as with other spirits, there’s always a way or a cocktail to make a proper introduction for every palate. Convincing someone they actually love the spirit they’ve expected to hate is rewarding.”

At Columbia Room, beverage manager Paul Taylor feeds off the curiosity of his guests and seeks to deliver an authentic experience. While the Sazerac is his personal favorite absinthe cocktail, he also recommends a French 75 riff with absinthe subbing in for gin, particularly for the first-time, absinthe-curious imbiber. “If someone is interested in getting into absinthe and enjoys the flavor, I like to make that for them,” he says. “Shake the absinthe, a rich simple syrup, and lemon juice, strain it into a white wine glass, and top with Champagne. Boom!”

The article High-Quality Absinthe Is Finally Having Its Moment in America appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/high-quality-absinthe-is-finally-having-its-moment-in-america/

[isaiahrippinus]

High-Quality Absinthe Is Finally Having Its Moment in America

Absinthe has long held a special intrigue in the minds of imbibers, and when updated regulations in 2007 effectively allowed for a large-scale reintroduction of the spirit in the United States, a surge in popularity was expected — only it didn’t really happen. Initial interest was largely tied to old myths and the mystique of a taboo, and that attention waned as quickly as it arose. In recent years, though, absinthe has made a real return, fueled by a few factors: U.S. craft distilleries producing their own renditions, a more developed cocktail scene, and bars that celebrate traditions like absinthe service, water fountains and all.

“I think the most exciting thing about absinthe right now is that it’s sloughed off the novelty tag that it had during the first few years it was reintroduced in the States,” says Brian Robinson, a spirits collector and absinthe aficionado, as well as a partner in Columbia Room, a renowned Washington, D.C., bar. “Instead, many people now view it as almost a necessity in a fully stocked bar because so many cocktails call for it, even if you’re not doing the full drip ritual.”

A Traditional Approach

That ritual, though, is at the heart of how some bars and restaurants are approaching and showcasing absinthe, allowing guests to participate in a tried-and-true tasting experience. At Jeune et Jolie in Carlsbad, Calif., beverage director Leigh Lecap offers a wide-ranging lineup of different absinthes available with traditional service, highlighted as a fundamental piece of the establishment’s identity with a cherub-adorned marble fountain in the center of the bar with piped-in, properly chilled water.

Photo by Jake Emen

“Jeune’s cuisine is a reaction to the current trend of bistronomy in Paris and how the new guard of chefs are interpreting classic French cuisine,” Lecap explains. “We’ve embraced the Nouvelle concept of adopting global influences, obeying the seasons, celebrating locality, and paying a lot of attention to composition. In a way, we thought the bar program should mirror our kitchen’s sentiment and honor an era in France when the country as a whole experienced a renaissance in art, literature, and science, and adopted new ways of thinking and perceiving. Absinthe soaked the thread woven between all those things.”

To honor that thread, Jeune et Jolie has even instituted L’Heure Verte, or “The Green Hour,” an all-things absinthe late-night happy hour of sorts, late on Friday or Saturday nights. “With the consumer, there are always still questions of whether or not it’s real, or ‘will I hallucinate?’, which is my favorite,” Lecap says. “A couple quick facts about when the ban was lifted in the U.S. and what ingredients in the distillation make absinthe what it is, usually does the trick. Explaining absinthe is — more often than not — enlightening and incredibly enchanting. There’s nothing else like it.”

At West Main Crafting Co. in Lexington, Ky., Jonathan Laurel has put absinthe at the forefront of his offerings as well, including in cocktails and traditional fountain-style service, and offers an environment where imbibers can taste in an environment built for education and dialogue. “The average absinthe drinker — even the experienced ones — still have plenty of questions about absinthe chemistry, styles, history, and tasting,” he says.

For Laurel, West Main fills an important gap in the beverage space. The country has plenty of whiskey or agave bars, for instance, “but not yet a program like ours where you can drink an absinthe, read tasting notes, and taste individual tinctures that illustrate those notes,” he says.

Beyond an educational approach and a deep selection, using a traditional fountain was an essential part of what West Main envisioned with its absinthe offerings. “The iconic golden-age apparatus for diluting absinthe was the fountain, an artistic, elaborate silver stand with a bowl of ice water in the top and individual spouts,” he says. “We couldn’t do absinthe service without offering this pillar of the experience — it’s such a spectacle and it captures people’s imagination.”

Photo by West Main

Absinthe Made in the USA

A range of distilleries are now trying their hands at quality all-American absinthe. Philadelphia Distilling, for instance, produces Vieux Carré Absinthe Supérieure, which was initially released at the end of 2008 as the “first legal absinthe to be distilled, bottled, and sold on the East Coast of the United States” in nearly a century.

Robinson points to brands such as Delaware Phoenix, Leopold Brothers, Lawrenceville Distilling, Tenth Ward, and Mt. Defiance, as among his favorite American producers. “They’re all doing great work by integrating historical protocols and ingredients with slight twists to make them their own,” he says. “All of them are great representations of the category, and they all seem to be doing it as a labor of love, which shows in the final product.”

The Absinthe Verte from St. George Spirits is another bottle to know. The lauded distillery infuses brandy with wormwood, fennel, and star anise, distills the infusion, and then infuses again with botanicals such as mint, tarragon, hyssop, and stinging nettles. The company suggests serving its absinthe with a single ice cube and no sugar, or using it in a classic cocktail.

Some of the most widely available American absinthes come from Louisville brandy producer Copper & Kings, which produces two absinthes in its lineup, an Absinthe Blanche, as well as a barrel-aged offering. “We also have some sublime absinthe aging in port and in sherry now that is over four years old, and ridiculous,” founder Joe Heron says. He calls absinthe a “distiller’s paradise in terms of botanical engineering,” and notes that original absinthe had brandy as a base as well. “We wanted to celebrate the history and the heritage, and to showcase our own brandy distillation competence.”

As with St. George, Copper & Kings also recommends skipping the sugar cube during a traditional service. “We do not add sugar to the spirit, with the botanicals, such as fennel, licorice, anise, and black pepper (which distills sweet) all sweet enough already,” Heron says. “The sugar cube is really for spiky absinthe made with grain-neutral spirits.”

Photo by Copper & Kings Absinthe

Classic Cocktails & New Riffs

At Jeune et Jolie, Lecap relishes the opportunity to showcase absinthe in a broad range of cocktails. “It’s a fun challenge to remind people of absinthe’s versatility,” he says. “It doesn’t just bury every drink that contains it. I think tiki really opens the door for the inclusion of absinthe in cocktails the way it lends itself to warm spices and tropical flavors. And even as bartenders, we forget how absinthe is used across the spectrum of drink styles, from the Sazerac and Robert Burns, to the No 2. versions of both the Tuxedo and Corpse Reviver.”

An example of that versatility is seen on Lecap’s menu, where he also offers an absinthe frappé. The refreshing serve is about as far removed on the flavor spectrum from the spirituous, bold Sazerac as possible.

“Absinthe cocktails serve as a genius gateway for people,” Laurel says. “Just as with other spirits, there’s always a way or a cocktail to make a proper introduction for every palate. Convincing someone they actually love the spirit they’ve expected to hate is rewarding.”

At Columbia Room, beverage manager Paul Taylor feeds off the curiosity of his guests and seeks to deliver an authentic experience. While the Sazerac is his personal favorite absinthe cocktail, he also recommends a French 75 riff with absinthe subbing in for gin, particularly for the first-time, absinthe-curious imbiber. “If someone is interested in getting into absinthe and enjoys the flavor, I like to make that for them,” he says. “Shake the absinthe, a rich simple syrup, and lemon juice, strain it into a white wine glass, and top with Champagne. Boom!”

The article High-Quality Absinthe Is Finally Having Its Moment in America appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/high-quality-absinthe-is-finally-having-its-moment-in-america/ source https://vinology1.tumblr.com/post/611845392422912000

[johnboothus]

High-Quality Absinthe Is Finally Having Its Moment in America

Absinthe has long held a special intrigue in the minds of imbibers, and when updated regulations in 2007 effectively allowed for a large-scale reintroduction of the spirit in the United States, a surge in popularity was expected — only it didn’t really happen. Initial interest was largely tied to old myths and the mystique of a taboo, and that attention waned as quickly as it arose. In recent years, though, absinthe has made a real return, fueled by a few factors: U.S. craft distilleries producing their own renditions, a more developed cocktail scene, and bars that celebrate traditions like absinthe service, water fountains and all.

“I think the most exciting thing about absinthe right now is that it’s sloughed off the novelty tag that it had during the first few years it was reintroduced in the States,” says Brian Robinson, a spirits collector and absinthe aficionado, as well as a partner in Columbia Room, a renowned Washington, D.C., bar. “Instead, many people now view it as almost a necessity in a fully stocked bar because so many cocktails call for it, even if you’re not doing the full drip ritual.”

A Traditional Approach

That ritual, though, is at the heart of how some bars and restaurants are approaching and showcasing absinthe, allowing guests to participate in a tried-and-true tasting experience. At Jeune et Jolie in Carlsbad, Calif., beverage director Leigh Lecap offers a wide-ranging lineup of different absinthes available with traditional service, highlighted as a fundamental piece of the establishment’s identity with a cherub-adorned marble fountain in the center of the bar with piped-in, properly chilled water.

Photo by Jake Emen

“Jeune’s cuisine is a reaction to the current trend of bistronomy in Paris and how the new guard of chefs are interpreting classic French cuisine,” Lecap explains. “We’ve embraced the Nouvelle concept of adopting global influences, obeying the seasons, celebrating locality, and paying a lot of attention to composition. In a way, we thought the bar program should mirror our kitchen’s sentiment and honor an era in France when the country as a whole experienced a renaissance in art, literature, and science, and adopted new ways of thinking and perceiving. Absinthe soaked the thread woven between all those things.”

To honor that thread, Jeune et Jolie has even instituted L’Heure Verte, or “The Green Hour,” an all-things absinthe late-night happy hour of sorts, late on Friday or Saturday nights. “With the consumer, there are always still questions of whether or not it’s real, or ‘will I hallucinate?’, which is my favorite,” Lecap says. “A couple quick facts about when the ban was lifted in the U.S. and what ingredients in the distillation make absinthe what it is, usually does the trick. Explaining absinthe is — more often than not — enlightening and incredibly enchanting. There’s nothing else like it.”

At West Main Crafting Co. in Lexington, Ky., Jonathan Laurel has put absinthe at the forefront of his offerings as well, including in cocktails and traditional fountain-style service, and offers an environment where imbibers can taste in an environment built for education and dialogue. “The average absinthe drinker — even the experienced ones — still have plenty of questions about absinthe chemistry, styles, history, and tasting,” he says.

For Laurel, West Main fills an important gap in the beverage space. The country has plenty of whiskey or agave bars, for instance, “but not yet a program like ours where you can drink an absinthe, read tasting notes, and taste individual tinctures that illustrate those notes,” he says.

Beyond an educational approach and a deep selection, using a traditional fountain was an essential part of what West Main envisioned with its absinthe offerings. “The iconic golden-age apparatus for diluting absinthe was the fountain, an artistic, elaborate silver stand with a bowl of ice water in the top and individual spouts,” he says. “We couldn’t do absinthe service without offering this pillar of the experience — it’s such a spectacle and it captures people’s imagination.”

Photo by West Main

Absinthe Made in the USA

A range of distilleries are now trying their hands at quality all-American absinthe. Philadelphia Distilling, for instance, produces Vieux Carré Absinthe Supérieure, which was initially released at the end of 2008 as the “first legal absinthe to be distilled, bottled, and sold on the East Coast of the United States” in nearly a century.

Robinson points to brands such as Delaware Phoenix, Leopold Brothers, Lawrenceville Distilling, Tenth Ward, and Mt. Defiance, as among his favorite American producers. “They’re all doing great work by integrating historical protocols and ingredients with slight twists to make them their own,” he says. “All of them are great representations of the category, and they all seem to be doing it as a labor of love, which shows in the final product.”

The Absinthe Verte from St. George Spirits is another bottle to know. The lauded distillery infuses brandy with wormwood, fennel, and star anise, distills the infusion, and then infuses again with botanicals such as mint, tarragon, hyssop, and stinging nettles. The company suggests serving its absinthe with a single ice cube and no sugar, or using it in a classic cocktail.

Some of the most widely available American absinthes come from Louisville brandy producer Copper & Kings, which produces two absinthes in its lineup, an Absinthe Blanche, as well as a barrel-aged offering. “We also have some sublime absinthe aging in port and in sherry now that is over four years old, and ridiculous,” founder Joe Heron says. He calls absinthe a “distiller’s paradise in terms of botanical engineering,” and notes that original absinthe had brandy as a base as well. “We wanted to celebrate the history and the heritage, and to showcase our own brandy distillation competence.”

As with St. George, Copper & Kings also recommends skipping the sugar cube during a traditional service. “We do not add sugar to the spirit, with the botanicals, such as fennel, licorice, anise, and black pepper (which distills sweet) all sweet enough already,” Heron says. “The sugar cube is really for spiky absinthe made with grain-neutral spirits.”

Photo by Copper & Kings Absinthe

Classic Cocktails & New Riffs

At Jeune et Jolie, Lecap relishes the opportunity to showcase absinthe in a broad range of cocktails. “It’s a fun challenge to remind people of absinthe’s versatility,” he says. “It doesn’t just bury every drink that contains it. I think tiki really opens the door for the inclusion of absinthe in cocktails the way it lends itself to warm spices and tropical flavors. And even as bartenders, we forget how absinthe is used across the spectrum of drink styles, from the Sazerac and Robert Burns, to the No 2. versions of both the Tuxedo and Corpse Reviver.”

An example of that versatility is seen on Lecap’s menu, where he also offers an absinthe frappé. The refreshing serve is about as far removed on the flavor spectrum from the spirituous, bold Sazerac as possible.

“Absinthe cocktails serve as a genius gateway for people,” Laurel says. “Just as with other spirits, there’s always a way or a cocktail to make a proper introduction for every palate. Convincing someone they actually love the spirit they’ve expected to hate is rewarding.”

At Columbia Room, beverage manager Paul Taylor feeds off the curiosity of his guests and seeks to deliver an authentic experience. While the Sazerac is his personal favorite absinthe cocktail, he also recommends a French 75 riff with absinthe subbing in for gin, particularly for the first-time, absinthe-curious imbiber. “If someone is interested in getting into absinthe and enjoys the flavor, I like to make that for them,” he says. “Shake the absinthe, a rich simple syrup, and lemon juice, strain it into a white wine glass, and top with Champagne. Boom!”

The article High-Quality Absinthe Is Finally Having Its Moment in America appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/high-quality-absinthe-is-finally-having-its-moment-in-america/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/high-quality-absinthe-is-finally-having-its-moment-in-america

[alisonfloresus]

Vincent Van Gogh – A Depth Of Ardour Reworked

“And my purpose in my life is to make pictures and drawings, as many and in addition to I can; then, at the finish of my life, I hope to cross away, looking again with love and tender regret, and considering, ‘Oh, the pictures I may need made!‘”

-Vincent VVan Gogh, Letter 338, 9 November 1883

In the annals of artwork history, there is no comparison to the enduringly tragic and passionate life of Vincent Van Gogh. His works have been embraced and are treasured by a world which once scarcely understood or accepted this tragic and tortured genius. The great thing about his remarkably prolific profession lies within the intensity and conviction of coronary heart, which he placed in his images. His works stay etched and embossed within our unconscious and nonetheless linger in our minds lengthy after this tormented soul’s dramatic departure from this life. Born March 30, 1853, Vincent Wilhelm Van Gogh’s younger life was overshadowed by the death of a brother precisely one 12 months previous to Vincent’s birth. Ironically, the brother’s name was additionally Vincent. Think about the confusion of a meditative young boy dealing with the idea of being a replacement youngster and really visiting a grave on a regular basis bearing his name. However, the mournful and desolate countryside of Vincent’s birthplace in Groot-Zundert, Holland became the nurturing supply and breeding ground for Van Gogh’s intense exploration of nature and the world round him. His favorite brother was Theo, who turned and remained a beacon of hope, support and encouragement all through Van Gogh’s whole life. They had been kindred spirits and their eloquent and tender correspondences (over seven-hundred letters) are thoroughly archived as a residing testimony to their symbiotic closeness. In May of 1873, Vincent was despatched to London to work on the Goupil Gallery as a younger art salesman, where he began to discover and developed an appreciation for art of all sorts. While there he met a young woman named Ursula Loyer of whom Vincent became completely enamored and proposed marriage. Ursula mocked him and refused his advances with nothing wanting contempt for the 21-12 months-old Van Gogh. This disappointment, the idea of a lifetime of isolation and despair, grew to become an awe-consuming event which shattered his expectations of a “normal life” While this will appear a childish exaggeration, this sample of rejection was to repeat itself many instances over the course of Vincent’s Life and affect his perception of the world around him.

The Rising Artist: Nuenen

Whereas speculation on Van Gogh’s personal life, emotional and physical troubles could fill volumes; we will deal with his art. This is best achieved by concentrating on the precise areas wherein Van Gogh lived and labored and his reasons for being there, versus a lengthy evaluation of his coming and goings. Van Gogh did travel quite extensively for someone of his stature and class, however extra relevant are the photographs themselves, which were created in a sure area at a major point in his creative growth.

The son of a Dutch protestant minister, Vincent’s youth was spent finding out theology and performing as lay preacher for the miners of the region. Herein lies his fascination with frequent people and employees of the lands and fields. In one of the artist’s earliest works entitled Sorrow, the trials and tribulations of life take on an overwhelming somber tone.

In his first really severe portray, The Potato Eaters, painted in Nuenen in April of 1885, we see a poverty stricken world with characters neatly sculpted in sharp, deep tones of thickly applied oil paint. It was throughout this stage of the artist’s growth that the themes of the harvest and character research of the miners took priority. The 192 canvases painted throughout this era are portraits of courage and dignity despite oppressive poverty and depressive circumstances.

“The point is that I’ve tried to carry out the idea that these people eating potatoes by the sunshine of their lamp have dug the earth with the self-same palms they’re now placing into the dish, and it thus suggests manual labor and — a meal truthfully earned.”

-Vincent Van Gogh, Letter to Theo, c. 30 April 1885

Antwerp : Tutorial Reinforcement

During Van Gogh’s temporary keep in the metropolis of Antwerp, he attended the Academic Royale des Beaux Art. Although he painted solely seven work during his three month tenure, the focus was on educational precision and it’s inclusion within the refinement of his art and technique. Arising from his studies of anatomy and the human figure, Van Gogh produced this relatively startling macabre picture entitled, Skull with Burning Cigarette. Maybe Vincent was reflecting on his own in poor health well being at the time with complaints of rotting teeth and abdomen ailments.

Paris : Pivotal Artistic Exploration

In 1886 Vincent moved to Paris to stick with his brother Theo, now an artwork dealer. This period of Vincent’s life is remarkable in Van Gogh’s publicity to new art actions and his willingness to experiment and apply these new concepts to his personal creations. Influenced by the Impressionists, his palette became much lighter and the colours more brilliant. Different influences embrace Japanese prints with their flat, ornamental panels of colour, which have been highly widespread at the time. Vincent integrated many of those new influences in this incredibly vibrant stage of his life and career. The painting Interior of a Restaurant with its speckles of yellow, gold and inexperienced, clearly shows the affect of Divisionism and even Pointillism, a way developed by George Seurat. During his keep in Paris, Van Gogh met and associated with most of the premiere impressionists of his day, amongst them, Toulouse-Lautrec, Pissaro, Seurat and of Course, Gauguin. Upon viewing Vincent’s work for the primary time, Gauguin remarked, “You really do paint like a madman!”

This incident passed off in an art provide retailer, which was run by Pere Tanguy, who additionally displayed work and regarded himself an art dealer. Van Gogh’s Portrait of Pere Tanguy. is of special curiosity with the colourful Japanese prints and woodcuts, which profoundly influenced Vincent’s work on the time, that kind the background of this distinctive portrait.

Painted within the late summer time months of 1887, the portray, Two Reduce Sunflowers, is particularly striking. Vincent’s fascination with the vivid yellow of those big flowers is properly known. The depth of the color is barely matched with Van Gogh’s seemingly manic strokes. Throughout his stay in Paris, Vincent painted 222 paintings, lots of which are thought-about masterpieces. Rural scenes of the realm, numerous self-portraits and landscapes of the city itself are the topics of Vincent’s incredible outpour of vivacious and enchanting imagery.

Arles : A New Hope Turns Tragic

Arriving in Arles on February 20, 1888, Vincent had most definitely hoped that the sunshine of provence would encourage his work and raise his creative abilities to a brand new, creative plateau. By this point, the plein-air painting he had explored along with the affect of impressionism and the japonaisse parts he utilized were fused and became, actually with out his own realization, the style that will turn out to be distinctly “Vincent “

The Sower, painted in June of 1888, displays a return to one among Van Gogh’s favourite motifs, and his lifelong fascination with the work of Millet. At one level, Vincent painted seven copies of the Sower in one week. Here in Arles, the Sower takes on an impressive quality with the good solar blazing across the fields with a divine intensity.

It is a nicely know fact that Vincent could not afford to hire fashions for his work and very often painted himself. No fewer than 35 of these portraits exist, definitely extra self-portraits than any artist had ever painted.

They’re intriguing, not merely for the versatility of style, but also as a result of they supply perception into Vincent’s way of thinking on the explicit point of time wherein they were created. The Self Portrait with Pipe and Straw Hat was painted in August of 1888. For my part, it is a charming portrayal of the artist’s optimism and hope for a productive, artistic period of his life. There’s a sense of peace and renewal evident in his face and in the easy, yet assured brush strokes.

Vincent’s intention in Arles was to create a colony of artists in the southern provincial city. The Painter, Paul Gauguin joined him for a brief time on this artistic tour of pure expression. Their time collectively proved to be quick-lived nevertheless, as their temperaments were vastly different. While boarding on the yellow home, a bizarre incident occurred which was to mark the tip of their relationship. In an environment fueled by alcohol and Vincent’s delusional tantrums, the 2 personalities clashed, an argument ensued, and Van Gogh cut off a portion of his ear and delivered it to a prostitute named Rachel.

A lot has been written concerning this episode and some of the info have been misconstrued by dramatic interpretations. It is clear that Vincent suffered from each visual and aural hallucinations and that he also partook closely within the ingesting of absinthe, a highly potent combination, with the same effects as opium. Greater than likely, the mix of all these elements, together with Vincent’s damaged vanity and string of emotional disappointments, led to this weird act. Of the 187 Painting created in Arles, many are Vincent’s best beloved works. The painting, Vincent’s Bedroom in Arles, is considered the very best of five completely different variations of the scene. Vincent was so happy with the work that he wrote highly detailed letters describing the painting: “In a phrase, trying at the picture ought to rest the mind, or rather the imagination.”

The unusual forced perspective of the room with its slanted again wall is in reality a contradiction to Vincent’s supposed vision. As soon as again we see a composition influenced by Vincent’s preoccupation with Asian artwork, some prints of which can be seen on the walls. The room grows slender and maybe reflect Van Gogh’s sense of isolation and an try to record some sense of order in a world of lonely chaos.

“I really feel the will to resume myself and to try to apologize for the fact that my footage are after all nearly a cry of anguish, though in the rustic sunflower they could symbolize gratitude.”

-Vincent Van Gogh, Letter to Wil, Letter W20 c.20 February 1890

After Van Gogh’s self mutilation episode on a December Sunday in 1888, the young surgeon, Physician Felix Rey, was placed in charge of Vincent’s care. Perhaps as a token of his appreciation, Van Gogh immortalized the physician in a portrait in January 1889.

By this level the citizens of Arles had registered a formal grievance in opposition to Van Gogh and thought of him a threat to the soundness and safety of their peaceful community. Doctor Rey’s parents were so mortified by the portrait that they actually used the portray to patch up a hole of their rooster coop. Some twenty years later, Rey rescued the painting which now resides in the State Pushkin Museum of Advantageous Art in Moscow.

Saint-Remy: The Elation of Heightened Nature

Maybe realizing the seriousness of his personal mental deterioration, Van Gogh voluntarily dedicated himself to a psychological asylum in Saint-Remy de Provence in Might of 1889. This was to be one of the difficult years of his life, paradoxically although, and in the true spirit of this gifted artist, it was additionally to be one of Vincent’s most productive periods. Regardless of being at occasions utterly incapacitated and at battle together with his personal horrific demons, Van Gogh created some of the most enduring photos of all time. We see them now, and they appear to us as previous friends. Stars and Trees, etched upon our conscious. That is perhaps Vincent’s greatest gift to us: The depth of his ardour transformed by the tragedy of madness into visions that transcend time and house and develop into tangible visual icons of the human experience.

In this enchanting work, there is a rolling power as stars explode across the cool blue sky while wild cypress timber rise like flames from the tiny hamlet created solely from creativeness and memory. Considering the popularity of this beautiful portray, let’s check out a drawing of the exact same composition from Moscow’s Museum of Architecture.

During his convalescence, Van Gogh created a minimum of 142 work from Might of 1889 to May of 1890. An ardent admirer of Eugene Delacroix and Rembrandt, he painted his own unique interpretations of their works. Maybe sensing his own demise, the tormented artist reinterpreted Delacroix’s Pieta. A compelling work, Vincent’s Pieta, is certainly one of compassion and expresses a return to the religious roots of his childhood. The image of Christ being taken down from the cross is way lighter in colour than the heavier, extra classically influenced work of Delacroix. Nevertheless the emotion and power of expression are clearly evident.

The Portray, Road with Cypress and Stars, is almost a companion piece to Starry Night. There’s a little bit of human activity in the foreground and we even see a carriage with two passengers on the far left. The Cypress Tree is the main focus with its turbulent fiery presence in front a blazing sky. The chisel-like brushwork and amplified floor texture had turn out to be hallmarks of Vincent’s work by this time. This was to be one among Van Gogh’s final paintings at the Asylum in Saint Remy. Upon the advice of his brother, Theo, Vincent moved to Auvers-sur-Oise, a small village north of Paris. Right here he was placed underneath the care of the Flemish Physician Paul-Ferdinand Gachet, a sixty two 12 months previous specialist in psychological illness. While Gachet’s competency was questionable, the scenario of Van Gogh’s more and more tragic sense of melancholy known as for some drastic measure. An avid admirer of Vincent’s work, Dr. Gachet was totally delighted with his Portrait. In more recent years, The Portrait of Dr. Gachet fetched an astounding 82.5 Million Dollars at Christie’s Public sale House in New York, the very best price ever paid for a painting. A picture of turbulent vitality and vividly coloured anguish, Wheat Fields With Crows is taken into account Van Gogh’s final painting. While this may increasingly or not be true, the portray is explosive and there’s a terrific atmosphere of an ominous and even sinister nature.

Armed with a revolver, Van Gogh shot himself on the afternoon of July 27, 1890. Two days later, Vincent died with his brother Theo and Paul Gachet, the doctor’s son at his side. Leaving behind a tormented and emotionally disastrous previous fraught with despair and sorrow, Vincent Van Gogh’s inventive contribution is unrivalled in its emotional complexity and the sheer energy of a tormented soul’s inventive capacity.

An Overview

In the middle of his lifetime, Vincent Van Gogh created a veritable treasure trove of artwork. Over one thousand Drawings, 870 Paintings, 150 Watercolors and greater than 133 letter sketches type the physique of his vast accomplishments as an artist. The majority of these works had been achieved inside a interval of 4 years from 1886 to 1890. Barely acknowledged during his lifetime, Vincent Van Gogh is now recognized as one of the world’s biggest and most influential Artists.

from JournalsLINE http://journalsline.com/2017/06/13/vincent-van-gogh-a-depth-of-ardour-reworked/ from Journals LINE https://journalsline.tumblr.com/post/161778552940

[chicleeblair]

don't drink the unicorn dungeons

angryspacerobot’s latest one-shot in angryspaceravenclaw’s latest one-shot features— SPOILER a reference the unicorn frappucino and a child who is in their “poop is the funniest” phase END SPOILER–I know that the frap came about because unicorn things are currently popular, but I imagined it stemming from some manager’s idea to create a series of fairy-themed drinks. assuming people on approval boards are cishet dudes, imagine the idea got to the trial stage. and several journalists began to draft their thinkpieces–ignorance or a show of support for lbgt+ employees? is starbucks using this drink in development to promote bisexuality? would you buy your son such a girlie drink??–but the public didnt get go properly decry their outrage–others got their first.

test batches transformed into a thick, red ooze that smelled like iron, and a second attempt produced cups full of crunched up leaves the second the experimenters turned their back. even the most creative parts of the team weren’t sure what to make of this, until an intern pointed out that provoking the fae never ends well, and continuing to use their likeness to promote pastel, sugary food would ensure an exponential increase in the prank’s frequency and danger. the students of robin goodfellow did not believe in letting mercy interrupt their fun–quite the opposite, in fact.

the intern knew this and more, being one of an infinitesimally small amount of changlings who traveled through both worlds with ease, and at a frequency that caused her to forget which species she was born into. She slipped the thoughts of fairy beverages out of minds and a new recipe into drawers

once-upon-a-time, allegiances were pledged at massive feasts where starry-eyed humans lost themselves in fae food, music, and joy. this latest generation of youth still dances, but they denounce their humanity in front of a rowdy crowd, but at a table with a new friend, the one who has been teaching them about the realm, who has been gently nudging them to stay ever since a fairy’s promises lured them through the circle–they are likely not the same person, scouts entrap, but rarely indoctrinate. in the cadual atmosphere of the coffee shop the deed is quieter, more thought out, but no less monumental. for the rest of their life, this self-made changling will crave flavors they’d never dreamed of as a human. power of fae beverages is nothing new, of course. there are those who resist the charm of a determined fae, or simply do not believe them. most times when scholars traces an accurate story, they find these doubters at the source. they don’t care if humans know about their circles, better that they stay away, but many see mockery in their constant attempts at making “fairy food.” Gangs of youth find sport in enchanting counterfeit ambrosia or weakened absinthe, causing damage that does not appeal to even the cruelest adult pranksters. Knowing all of this, the changling intern makes sure there is way for her employees to connect the new recipe with the realms. sometimes she thinks it’s a shame she can’t reveal the ingredients she had to substitute out, both ensure a human-crafted drink couldn’t tie someone to the realm and because manticore spit wasn’t mass produced by any human distributors.

it’s a shame, she remarks to the barista friend who helped make the changes. the kids would love to know the real recipe calls for unicorn dung. but perhaps they will know anyway. children have a knack for detecting things like that, even if it’s chalked up to their imaginations.

with all the failsafes in check, she still watches carefully while the until the promotion ends and a black concoction becomes Persephone’s problem. she is the only one in her office who is not dismayed by the amount of drinks that are purchased, photographed, and left. Things in the mound might be easier if humans could be sated by images. only the children insisted on consuming the whole drink, and only the intern knew why to some it tasted of medicine–sweet, with a hint of sadness–and why others could only say it tasted like home.

[wineanddinosaur]

High-Quality Absinthe Is Finally Having Its Moment in America

Absinthe has long held a special intrigue in the minds of imbibers, and when updated regulations in 2007 effectively allowed for a large-scale reintroduction of the spirit in the United States, a surge in popularity was expected — only it didn’t really happen. Initial interest was largely tied to old myths and the mystique of a taboo, and that attention waned as quickly as it arose. In recent years, though, absinthe has made a real return, fueled by a few factors: U.S. craft distilleries producing their own renditions, a more developed cocktail scene, and bars that celebrate traditions like absinthe service, water fountains and all.

“I think the most exciting thing about absinthe right now is that it’s sloughed off the novelty tag that it had during the first few years it was reintroduced in the States,” says Brian Robinson, a spirits collector and absinthe aficionado, as well as a partner in Columbia Room, a renowned Washington, D.C., bar. “Instead, many people now view it as almost a necessity in a fully stocked bar because so many cocktails call for it, even if you’re not doing the full drip ritual.”

A Traditional Approach

That ritual, though, is at the heart of how some bars and restaurants are approaching and showcasing absinthe, allowing guests to participate in a tried-and-true tasting experience. At Jeune et Jolie in Carlsbad, Calif., beverage director Leigh Lecap offers a wide-ranging lineup of different absinthes available with traditional service, highlighted as a fundamental piece of the establishment’s identity with a cherub-adorned marble fountain in the center of the bar with piped-in, properly chilled water.

Photo by Jake Emen

“Jeune’s cuisine is a reaction to the current trend of bistronomy in Paris and how the new guard of chefs are interpreting classic French cuisine,” Lecap explains. “We’ve embraced the Nouvelle concept of adopting global influences, obeying the seasons, celebrating locality, and paying a lot of attention to composition. In a way, we thought the bar program should mirror our kitchen’s sentiment and honor an era in France when the country as a whole experienced a renaissance in art, literature, and science, and adopted new ways of thinking and perceiving. Absinthe soaked the thread woven between all those things.”

To honor that thread, Jeune et Jolie has even instituted L’Heure Verte, or “The Green Hour,” an all-things absinthe late-night happy hour of sorts, late on Friday or Saturday nights. “With the consumer, there are always still questions of whether or not it’s real, or ‘will I hallucinate?’, which is my favorite,” Lecap says. “A couple quick facts about when the ban was lifted in the U.S. and what ingredients in the distillation make absinthe what it is, usually does the trick. Explaining absinthe is — more often than not — enlightening and incredibly enchanting. There’s nothing else like it.”

At West Main Crafting Co. in Lexington, Ky., Jonathan Laurel has put absinthe at the forefront of his offerings as well, including in cocktails and traditional fountain-style service, and offers an environment where imbibers can taste in an environment built for education and dialogue. “The average absinthe drinker — even the experienced ones — still have plenty of questions about absinthe chemistry, styles, history, and tasting,” he says.

For Laurel, West Main fills an important gap in the beverage space. The country has plenty of whiskey or agave bars, for instance, “but not yet a program like ours where you can drink an absinthe, read tasting notes, and taste individual tinctures that illustrate those notes,” he says.

Beyond an educational approach and a deep selection, using a traditional fountain was an essential part of what West Main envisioned with its absinthe offerings. “The iconic golden-age apparatus for diluting absinthe was the fountain, an artistic, elaborate silver stand with a bowl of ice water in the top and individual spouts,” he says. “We couldn’t do absinthe service without offering this pillar of the experience — it’s such a spectacle and it captures people’s imagination.”

Photo by West Main

Absinthe Made in the USA

A range of distilleries are now trying their hands at quality all-American absinthe. Philadelphia Distilling, for instance, produces Vieux Carré Absinthe Supérieure, which was initially released at the end of 2008 as the “first legal absinthe to be distilled, bottled, and sold on the East Coast of the United States” in nearly a century.

Robinson points to brands such as Delaware Phoenix, Leopold Brothers, Lawrenceville Distilling, Tenth Ward, and Mt. Defiance, as among his favorite American producers. “They’re all doing great work by integrating historical protocols and ingredients with slight twists to make them their own,” he says. “All of them are great representations of the category, and they all seem to be doing it as a labor of love, which shows in the final product.”

The Absinthe Verte from St. George Spirits is another bottle to know. The lauded distillery infuses brandy with wormwood, fennel, and star anise, distills the infusion, and then infuses again with botanicals such as mint, tarragon, hyssop, and stinging nettles. The company suggests serving its absinthe with a single ice cube and no sugar, or using it in a classic cocktail.

Some of the most widely available American absinthes come from Louisville brandy producer Copper & Kings, which produces two absinthes in its lineup, an Absinthe Blanche, as well as a barrel-aged offering. “We also have some sublime absinthe aging in port and in sherry now that is over four years old, and ridiculous,” founder Joe Heron says. He calls absinthe a “distiller’s paradise in terms of botanical engineering,” and notes that original absinthe had brandy as a base as well. “We wanted to celebrate the history and the heritage, and to showcase our own brandy distillation competence.”

As with St. George, Copper & Kings also recommends skipping the sugar cube during a traditional service. “We do not add sugar to the spirit, with the botanicals, such as fennel, licorice, anise, and black pepper (which distills sweet) all sweet enough already,” Heron says. “The sugar cube is really for spiky absinthe made with grain-neutral spirits.”

Photo by Copper & Kings Absinthe

Classic Cocktails & New Riffs

At Jeune et Jolie, Lecap relishes the opportunity to showcase absinthe in a broad range of cocktails. “It’s a fun challenge to remind people of absinthe’s versatility,” he says. “It doesn’t just bury every drink that contains it. I think tiki really opens the door for the inclusion of absinthe in cocktails the way it lends itself to warm spices and tropical flavors. And even as bartenders, we forget how absinthe is used across the spectrum of drink styles, from the Sazerac and Robert Burns, to the No 2. versions of both the Tuxedo and Corpse Reviver.”

An example of that versatility is seen on Lecap’s menu, where he also offers an absinthe frappé. The refreshing serve is about as far removed on the flavor spectrum from the spirituous, bold Sazerac as possible.

“Absinthe cocktails serve as a genius gateway for people,” Laurel says. “Just as with other spirits, there’s always a way or a cocktail to make a proper introduction for every palate. Convincing someone they actually love the spirit they’ve expected to hate is rewarding.”

At Columbia Room, beverage manager Paul Taylor feeds off the curiosity of his guests and seeks to deliver an authentic experience. While the Sazerac is his personal favorite absinthe cocktail, he also recommends a French 75 riff with absinthe subbing in for gin, particularly for the first-time, absinthe-curious imbiber. “If someone is interested in getting into absinthe and enjoys the flavor, I like to make that for them,” he says. “Shake the absinthe, a rich simple syrup, and lemon juice, strain it into a white wine glass, and top with Champagne. Boom!”

The article High-Quality Absinthe Is Finally Having Its Moment in America appeared first on VinePair.

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