#*adds him to my collection of crispy boys*

[cavaliant]

Time to actually articulate my issues with the Fandom FE wiki’s Reinhardt page ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ This is like...obviously coloured by my own interpretation of the game so pls don’t kill me lmao. All bolding is mine.

(Also, disclaimer: since I don’t feel like deciphering the original script rn, this is based off Serenes, as well as this LP, with all the possible lost-in-translation things they may entail.)

“A paragon of professionalism and honor among Friege's knights, Reinhardt is an honorable leader who understands the horrors of war.”

Does he understand the horrors of ripping countless children away from their families to sacrifice to a dark god tho??? Like. It’s entirely possible that he was helping Ishtar free the children in secret since he was so close to her. But it’s also possible he was in the dark and/or turning a blind eye. We don’t know because it’s never confirmed either way onscreen; all we DO know is that when Olwen brings up the child hunts being deplorable all he does is say he doesn’t want to lose his only sister. He doesn’t endorse them, but he doesn’t condemn them in that convo either. It’s even lampshaded ingame:

Regardless of whether he endorses it or not, he isn’t really...confirmed to be doing much about it onscreen either, unlike other characters from Friege such as Ishtar, Olwen, Fred, Amalda, etc. So...not really sure on that honour bit for now ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-----

“He holds immense respect and love for his sister Olwen, with his own doubt only serving to improve his impression of her despite her siding with the enemy, with him observing that she has chosen the path of good.”

OH YEAH SURE giving her a sword to kill you with and basically encouraging your YOUNGER SISTER to murder you (he doesn’t even fight back) but ALSO not bothering to tell anyone else on his side to like you know...maybe look out for his little sis out there...maybe like...don’t kill her...totally fine...much love, very respect, wow.

-----

“In spite of his common sense, Reinhardt, similarly to Camus, loves his motherland to the point where he will disregard what he may believe is the right path, in favor of continuing to serve his friend Ishtar, and his motherland of Friege, until his dying breath.”

1) What common sense. I dunno man he seemed pretty desperate to get his sister back to the side of the motherland despite his “common sense” telling him it ain’t right.

2) It’s possible to say he’s too loyal to Friege to join you but he never really...gives much indication that he’s doing this for his country specifically. I know it may be a product of not getting the time to give a massive speech about his undying love for his country or something but from the way he talks I always got the impression he was doing it more for Ishtar (who happens to be part of Friege) and, after she sends him away, because he didn’t know what to do next. 

Like if Ishtar defected from Friege, I’m 100% certain Reinhardt would have defected too instead of telling his sister to murder him (which isn’t at ALL helpful to his supposed goals of serving Ishtar and/or respecting his sis).

-----

“He even regrets fighting against Leif's army, requesting forgiveness when he enters combat against them.”

When you fight Reinhardt in Chapter 22 he says, “This was meant to be… Forgive me…”. His sword version in FEH also states, "Leif is the enemy. However, being here—another place, another time—may allow me to tread another path."

Since the quote from the wiki focuses on his Thracia lines, I’ll focus on those as well. It’s possible for his request for forgiveness to be made out of genuine regret. However...going “sorry please forgive me” and then killing people doesn’t!!! Excuse you!!! From what you did!!! Does he do anything afterwards to make up for it? No!!! Beyond the sword he gives to Olwen, he doesn’t do shit about his “fate” of fighting his sister and the Liberation Army.

Maybe he really felt sorry and caught between a rock and a hard place! But at the same time, it also seems like he’s dodging responsibility for his actions. “Meant to be”, my ass. Was it just the “whims of fate” that led him here? No! Ishtar made her choices, and Olwen did the same. And he chooses to remain as he is, unwilling to betray Ishtar but unwilling to stain his own hands with his sister’s blood (though he’s certainly willing to kill her comrades, guess it was just meant to be!).

-----

“He holds immense respect for Ishtar (out of appreciation for her skill with thunder magic) as well as Saias (for his tactical prowess), and it is revealed that he has seen the former as more than a friend. It is never known how he feels about Julius beyond the typical jealousy, due to his code of honor preventing him from objecting Julius's order to separate him from Ishtar.”

MAYBE he’s feeling a bit resentful of Julius for separating him from his mistress, but what he actually says is:

Rinehart: “Yes, she has, but I chose to stay because I’m worried about my sister. Besides…Lady Ishstar has no need for me any more.”

Cyas: “She told you that herself?”

Rinehart: “Yes. She said that since she is with Lord Yurius, there is no need for me to worry about her…”

And then the subject turns to Olwen. So sure! Maybe there’s some salt and jealousy simmering there under the surface. Maybe he hates Julius for sending him away from the side of the person he’s been serving faithfully ever since she was young. You could take these lines that way. You could also just as easily not. You could just as easily take it as him just being gloomy and lost now that he’s suddenly been tossed out of a position he’s presumably held for years now, unable to protect one of the people he cares about anymore.

As for the “more than a friend” bit...it is implied by an NPC soldier (who mutters about Reinhardt “running to the queen’s side in a time like this” and is then told off by his commanding officer) and by Julius himself that Reinhardt might have romantic feelings for Ishtar. However, I’d also like to point out that rumours about lady-and-knight relationships probably aren’t uncommon in Jugdral, and that Julius himself has a highly personal stake in the matter.

If anyone’s jealous, it’s Julius, forcing Ishtar to tell her male bodyguard not to hang around her anymore on the pain of death (Reinhardt’s death that is). Regardless of whether Reinhardt actually had feelings for her or not, you get the feeling that Julius just doesn’t want any men hanging around his fiancée, particularly Reinhardt who has been close to Ishtar for a long time. And again, Reinhardt never actually says anything explicit about how he feels about her. So while it’s possible he does love her romantically, I wouldn’t call it canon beyond a shadow of a doubt.

-----

Anyway yeah I don’t think Rein is an evil person but he sure as heck ain’t a poor bb paragon of virtue who just happened to be forced to stay on the wrong side ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I love him, but I also want y’all to know he’s a fucking trash man so please don’t baby him on this blog! Call him out! Judge him! I support u...

#this is a really fucking long post jsyk #rein: hcs #i love reinhardt but he's a fucking garbage man and i will fight on this #ACKNOWLEDGE THE TRASH #ACCEPT THAT HE HAS GOOD POINTS AND BAD ONES #many bad ones... #every day is roast reinhardt day on this blog #*adds him to my collection of crispy boys*

[hrwinter]

You’re not sure what you remember about home. If you try, it might be blue skies and warm summer rain that you played in for hours. It might be your mother washing the mud out of your clothes, frowning and asking if it was really necessary for you to roll that completely in the dirt. You told her you were just doing what the dog did.

You had a dog, right?

You’re not really sure.

Because the other memories you have are not blue and green and the dirt brown of your knobby childhood knees. They’re grey and orange and crispy charcoal black. The market you visited where your parents would sometimes have hushed meetings behind shaky hands, it’s rubble. The wind that used to blow the fragrance of fresh peaches and citrus, it’s ash. The home you had is gone.

You remember a voyage, long, dark, and ripe with a putrid accumulation of smells. You remember getting to see the water a few times, opal blue and ever shifting. It was beautiful. But the ship crashed or was attacked, you don’t know, and then it was back to the oranges of fire, the reds of blood, and the screams of your parents you’d never find.

You washed up on shore alone.

Although, not quite alone.

That’s when you first saw her. The crow. You’re sure of that. She’d been there, pecking at the sand near your arm, the same one still clutching the cheap large plastic debris. It had saved your life. You looked over the edge of it, coughing salt water into the surf, and you saw her.

It was weird. She’d surprised you. You’d never seen a bird so big and black, you thought, and she shuffled from foot to foot, nervous. Was she hungry? Was she scared?

You don’t get a chance to find out before a man with large hands is swatting her away. She cawed angrily, reluctant to go, but she did, maybe to a nearby tree. He shook your shoulders then and asked you who you were.

“Kara,” your voice came out in a croak, not yours.

“Kara,” he says again.

The crow cawed.

It’s years before you put the patchwork pieces of your life back together, that you find out what happened to you. That a warmongering company, LuthorCorp, helped exacerbate the tensions in your region then exploited and profited from them by selling both sides weapons. But that doesn’t become relevant for a long time. For now, you’re an immigrant, and an immigrant is not a very good thing in this new country.

It could be worse. There are other kids who are not as lucky as you. Somehow having never set foot here, you have dual citizenship. Your mother was American. So, despite the government calling your parents insurgents and traitors, they don’t try to deport you. Or keep you locked in a cage. Instead, they put you in foster care.

It’s hard. It’s toiling. It takes you a long while to learn the language. You’re shy to talk because of it.

And you’re pretty. At least, people keep telling you that you are. You’re not sure what you see when you look in the mirror. The kind, clever blue eyes of your mother. The hard line of your father’s brow when he’d reprimand you for sneaking too many cookies.

But your prettiness doesn’t feel like a good thing. The other children resent you for it. And it brings you a different kind of attention, a kind that has you cowering from your foster mom’s drunk boyfriend, a kind that has your crow swooping in and attempting to peck out his eyes. She almost manages it, but when he swings, taking hold of her, you jump into the fray, too. You would’ve killed him if your foster mother hadn’t intervened.

That’s right, your crow has followed you here, has followed you through it all. She’s in the tree outside of the window when your foster mother returns you to the group facility for being ‘cruel and violent.’

You didn’t do anything. At least, you didn’t do anything you wouldn’t do again, a hundred times over.

“We’re better off here, anyway,” you tell the crow sitting with you during lunch recess.

“Why do you talk to that thing?” a boy asks you nearby, trapping a soccer ball with his foot.

“She’s my friend.”

“Friends can’t be birds.”

Yes, they can, you think.

“She doesn’t understand you,” he feels the need to add, certain.

But she does. You know she does.

---

You’re adopted into a new home not long after that. It’s different than the others. They’re called ‘Danvers.’ Eliza and Jeremiah, your adoptive parents, they’re kind and intelligent. They encourage your natural abilities in science and math. You’re starting to get A’s for the first time in your life, and you’re less reluctant to speak in class.

You still feel like an impostor. It doesn’t seem like a reality that’s meant for you. You were meant for the bottom of the sea.

“You have a right to be here,” Eliza tells you, but that’s not how your new sister acts.

Your crow has somehow inferred the antagonism between you. One afternoon she swoops in to steal a large portion of Alex’s sandwich and drops it on your plate.

“Hey!” Alex shouts after her, but the crow merely glares at her with dark black eyes, wings ruffling on your side of the picnic table.

“You did that on purpose.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

Alex looks between two of you, wary, parsing.

“How did you train it to do that, anyway?”

“…patience?” you improvise.

“You’re lying.”

The crow caws loudly, and Alex narrows her eyes.

“Whatever, I’m going inside.”

The crow watches her leave, and you soothe her ruffled feathers with a hand. The sheen of them always makes them seem oily, but they’re not at all. Her feathers are soft, and she preens a little under the touch. You gives her a nickel to play with. Maybe you’ll actually try to train her.

So, you make her puzzles. She seems somewhat competent in checkers. You read to her. Her favorite stories are fairy tales. Her favorite foods are unsalted peanuts, boiled eggs, shell and all. She likes apples too (you painstakingly removes the seeds, they’re bad for birds.) You feed her from the window. She sleeps in the tree there and follows you to school and back every single day. She watches you organize quarters for a state collection, nipping slightly at the plastic casing.

“I already gave you Iowa,” you tell her.

She clicks her beak back at you. Sometimes, she’ll steal your keys. You think she just likes things that you like, but you’re not sure. Alex says you’re projecting. Alex says you make up things that aren’t there, but honestly, Alex is a little mean.

Once on a fishing trip, the crow used bread to catch a fish, laying it before you all on the thick wood pier planks.

“That bird is smart,” Eliza comments, watching her chase away a hawk that seems a little too interested in the fish.

You’re proud. She’s fearless.

“Their brains are bigger than ours proportionally,” you reply with enthusiasm. You look to Alex. “See.”

“Her brain is bigger than yours,” Alex mumbles over her empty fishing line, and the crow dives down to nip at her.

“Hey!” Alex swats without making contact. The crow flies away again. “That crow doesn’t like me, I swear. She knows me.”

“Of course she does.”

“It’s meaner to me.”

“She’s a she, not an it,” you correct her.

“It’s not normal.”

“It’s perfectly normal for a crow,” you bicker with Alex. “They don't forget a face. They hold a grudge.”

“You sound like the Discovery Channel.”

“Well, it’s true. Did you know that they also mourn the dead? That they don’t migrate, staying in one place for most of their life?”

“So, you’re saying we’ll never get rid of it? Great.”

“She,” you correct her again testily. “And they can live to be 15 years old. So, yeah, you’re stuck.”

Alex quiets, and you’re thrilled to have won the argument.

But deep down inside, you’re willing to admit it’s a little weird, she’s a little weird. Crows are supposed to be social, and you’ve never seen her with any other crow. She only talks to you. She only follows you.

It would be crazy to think she wasn’t quite a crow, but something else, something more. Wouldn’t it? But you kind of do. You don’t admit it to anyone, but you do.

---

Graduation from high school is close, only days away. You’ve arranged everything for college, although not without a hulking amount of help from Eliza. She organized all of your scholarship forms, your applications, your dozens of essays. She kept you on track with projects and midterms and extracurriculars (you’re the captain of the Geology club, who knew!) And it’s all materialized into your acceptance at National City University. It’s only a couple of hours from Midvale, and you can’t wait for August.

Sometimes it’s crazy to think you’re going to college. A blonde, blue eyed girl who washed up on the beach one day like a sand dollar? You would’ve never put your money on her.

But here you are, walking a beach not that far from the one you arrived on, a big slate blue sky in front of you, wind whipping your hair. You think about the future; the new city, the potluck roommate, eighteen hours of classes in biomedical engineering.

“You’ll come with me to college, right?” you say to the crow perched on your shoulder, bobbing with every step you take.

The crow softly caws and nuzzles its head on your shoulder. It’s a rare form of her affection. Otherwise, her eyes are focused on the little crabs skittering in and out of the waves.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, you know,” you reach to bring the crow to your hand, her pointed claws clinging gracefully to two of your fingers. She looks back at you expectant and listening, canting her head to the side every now and again.

“We’ve never really talked about it,” you say as if it’s typical to apologize for conversations you haven’t had with your crow. “But you’ve always been there. You protected me.”

The crow flaps her wings a little. Is it pride? Joy?

“Thank you.”

You’re not sure what overtakes you then, but you do something you’ve never done before. Despite the fact that you’ve seen her roll around in ant piles, you lean forward and plant a little kiss on her feathered head.

Immediately, you know something has changed, that something is different. There’s a shimmer in the air in front of you, prismatic in color, and the crow flies away from you, landing, staggering in the sand. You chase after, but a crisp gust of wind blows sand into your eyes and you wobble, falling. When you scramble to your feet again, blinking and rubbing the grit out of your eyes, you don’t see your crow, but a girl with eyes as green as spring leaves, with hair as black as crow.

“You’re her,” you say as she sits up, looking confused, one armed draped across her middle.

“Yes,” the girl answers simply, shaping the word as if unfamiliar.

“You’re naked,” you announce.

“Yes.”

You strip your light jacket off, suddenly rushing to cover her. You rub her shoulders and she looks at you in that same, too intelligent way.

It is her.

You have no idea know what to say next. You just watched a bird transform into a human. It’s not real. You made it up. Maybe you passed out. You did eat a lot of cinnamon rolls right before this. You pinch yourself, but you don’t wake up. You’re still here on the windy beach, clutching a familiar creature in your arms.

In a panic, you fall back on the very first English you learned.

“I’m Kara,” you say. She sort of smiles as if that’s obvious. “What’s your name?”

She looks away, thinks hard. She has a strong jaw. Her skin is too white, like it’s never seen sun. Maybe not under the feathers? God, you think you’re going crazy.

“Lena.”

“Do you have parents, Lena?”

It’s a ridiculous question. She’s been with you for eleven years. But it’s a ridiculous situation.

“I—don’t remember. But I guess I do,” she says thoughtfully. Her voice has a raspy quality to it, not unlike her caw. “They probably think I’m dead.”

“What happened to you?”

She shakes her head again.

“I don’t remember,” then, “a curse, maybe. On my father. A woman came to our house that night. ‘A payment taken of your most prized possession’, she said. Something about an enemy loved.”

“A curse,” you repeat back. It makes sense. Even if nothing about this makes sense.

You shake your head, focusing on what’s important.

“Don’t worry,” you take her hand. Her palm is butter smooth. “Let’s go home.”

#supercorp #fanfic #supergirl au #crow au #i don't know #i literally don't #this was in my drafts for six months and i finally was like fuck it i'm finishing #i havent written 2nd POV in like one hundred years

[elisaphoenix13]

Beating The Heat Again

Scott groans when he's nudged and he reaches up to pat Emir's head. The tiger rumbles softly and nudges the man some more and Scott pushes him away just enough to sit up and rub his eyes. Emir took up quite a bit of the bed, much like Quill, and Scott was very glad for the king sized bed. Now that they had Emir, there was absolutely no space for anyone else. It was plenty full with two grown men and a tiger, and it was really a good thing that Flynn was small enough to curl up by Quill's neck. At the tower, they had lots of space in their room to kick Emir off the bed if they needed or wanted to, but here at the lake house, Emir didn't have the floor space he needed so was always on the bed.

"Alright, come on." Scott yawns and gets up.

Emir steps off the bed after scruffing Flynn to follow Scott out of the bedroom, and the man quietly makes his way over to the master bedroom and cracks the door open. Inside, both Tony and Stephen were still comfortably asleep and baby Lucy was asleep in her crib. Valerie had recently been moved to her own room but from the looks of it, she had come in earlier in the morning since Scott could see her tucked under one of Stephen's arms between the sorcerer and Tony. It was slow progress keeping her in her room at her age but it was normal.

"Athena." Scott whispers and the wolf raises her head to look at him. "Come on, outside."

Athena yawns with a small whine at the end and carefully hops down from the bed to join Scott and the other two animals in the hallway. Once Scott silently shuts the bedroom door again, he walks downstairs to the back door and opens it for Emir who was much too big for the pet door Tony had installed for Athena. As soon as the animals are outside, he shuts the door and checks the time, deciding it was late enough to start the day by brewing some coffee. Seven was much more bearable than five, but Scott still wasn't much of a morning person. He'd probably doze on the couch until more people woke up.

"Get pushed out of bed by the beast again?" Bucky asks from the couch and Scott jumps.

"Geez, I didn't even see you there." Scott wills his thumping heart to calm. "It depends on which beast you're referring to." He adds.

"The one you just let out." The other man laughs.

Scott snorts. "Almost. He probably would have if I didn't wake up right away. What are you doing up? Nightmare?"

"No, actually. Just...woke up feeling well rested."

"Ugh. I wish. I still need at least another two hours of sleep."

Bucky laughs and Scott sits on the couch next to him and lays his head back. The soldier turned on the tv to play quietly in the background and Scott dozed lightly as the house slowly began to wake up. Of course, Tony was one of the first ones awake since he probably smelt the coffee brewing, and Sam was close behind. As they got their coffee, the animals came back inside and Scott looked up with an arched eyebrow when they all sprawled out on the floor panting.

"You guys play too hard or something?" Scott asks.

"It's supposed to be pretty warm today," Sam mentions. "There's probably going to be a lot of swimming."

"It's already hot enough that I want to do this," Tony grabs some ice from the freezer and dumps a few cubes into his coffee.

"Yeah, give me some of those too." Sam holds his mug out and the engineer drops a few cubes into his. "We shouldn't want to do that inside."

Tony looks up from his coffee and at the men in the living room and kitchen before it dawns on him. "It does feel a little warm in here…"

Scott watches him walk away to check the thermostat and hears him swear quietly to himself. Stephen came down next and he was carrying Lucy in just a diaper and Valerie was in a t-shirt and a pull up. Stephen...he already looked miserable. He was in a loose t-shirt and shorts and looked like he had woken up drenched in sweat. Scott was already using his shirt to try and cool off.

"Tony, it's way too hot in the house." Stephen says.

"I know honey. I think the AC is out. I'll go see if I can fix it." Tony responds as he sets his mug on the counter as he heads out the backdoor and Stephen gently shushes the girls when they whine.

"I know it's hot. Let's get you something cold." He says softly.

Scott and Bucky get up to help Stephen with the girls, and Scott pulls out the popsicles.

"Not ideal for breakfast, but considering the circumstances-" he stops when Stephen takes one and opens it.

"If it's this hot this early, it's only going to get worse." Stephen says as he hands one half to Valerie and puts Lucy in the highchair to help her suck on the other half. "Whatever helps them stay cool."

The teenagers are the next to come down and they all looked disheveled and sweaty. The boys were already wearing the least amount of clothes as possible, which meant their swim trunks, and Cassie had the same idea. She changed into her bikini with a thin bikini cover for some semblance of consideration for others, and even had Diana do the same. When they saw Scott holding popsicles, they all mumbled miserably and took one for themselves and spread out around the house to slowly eat their breakfast.

"What...the...hell?" Quill comes stumbling down last after the rest of the Avengers wake up and Scott sighs when he finds his husband in nothing but his boxers.

"I can't even get excited. It's too hot for that." Scott mumbles.

"We have to burn our mattress." Quill says. "It's soaked with sweat."

"Gross." Scott and Stephen say in unison.

The god mumbled something about cooling towels before he disappeared back upstairs, and everyone followed the kids lead by sprawling out wherever they could find space. No one went upstairs since heat rises, and they turned on the tv in an attempt to distract them all from the sweltering temperature. Even Bucky had the consideration to put ice in the pets' water bowls and they moved just enough to lay by the bowl and lazily lap at the water. No one had the energy to go outside and try to cool down in the lake.

"Ughhhh." Peter groans. "Mom, can't you open a portal to Mount Everest like you did before?"

"Someone get me my sling ring." Stephen leans back in his chair and tries to use his shirt to cool himself off.

Nobody got up straight away but eventually Natasha slowly rolled to her feet and braved the upstairs to get the sling ring. Someone had fans going full blast and nobody even knew where they came from but they were a small blessing until Peter came up with the Everest idea. Those and the cooling towels. Quill only had so many and they were soaked in ice water and given to the kids, and then he found a spot as far away from everybody as he could get.

"It's hell upstairs." Natasha mumbles as she walks down and hands the sling ring over to Stephen.

He thanks her as he slips it on and just a few hand movements later, tiny gateways to Mount Everest were opened all over the house. There was a collective sigh of relief and soon enough, everyone had garnered enough energy to sit up. Stephen even managed to bring himself to clean the girls up and help Valerie down from her chair so she can go sit with William and watch tv. He let Steve take Lucy while he and Scott made some ice cold lemonade, and Scott handed the glasses out to everyone inside while Stephen braved the outside to take a glass out to Tony.

"Man, the A/C picked the worst time to break down." Pietro says. "Think Stark is crispy already?"

"Maybe." Sam gulps down his lemonade. "I don't think I've ever been so glad to have Stephen and his sling ring.

"Just don't stick any body parts in the portals." Bruce warns. "If Stephen decides to close them, you'll lose that body part."

"Don't even think about it Quill." Scott says immediately before even looking at his husband.

When he did, the celestial was pulling his hand away from the nearest portal.

"What? I can regenerate them!" Quill says.

"It'll still hurt you moron." Sam rolls his eyes.

"That's true."

"You guys want to go swimming?" Cassie asks.

"Might as well give it a shot." Thomas shrugs and the teens get up and head outside.

They even took Diana and Valerie but the adults weren't worried. Cassie and William would keep a close eye on them. Everyone else continued to watch tv, make more drinks, and some even pulled out the board games. Monopoly was the chosen game played by Scott, Sam, Wanda, Steve, and Bucky. And then there was a dirtier card game which was played by everyone else not watching tv. When Lucy took an interest in the small pieces on the monopoly board, Steve handed her to Natasha since she was playing the card game and it was much safer for her to chew on. The baby had no interest in the cards though and was content to chew on the teething ring someone dug out of the freezer for her.

After another hour, both Tony and Stephen finally came back inside and the engineer went straight upstairs for a cold shower and the sorcerer closed the portals as the air conditioning kicked on. Fortunately the house didn't warm back up before it could start cooling down and everyone remained comfortable. Even the pets.

"So is the lake enough to keep the kids cool?" Bruce asks.

"They say it is, but I'm sure they'll be in soon anyway. It's boiling out there." Stephen wipes his face. "I think I'll go join Tony. A cold shower sounds nice."

"Take your time making another baby. I'm sure even Tony can still get it up in a cold shower." Natasha laughs and Stephen rolls his eyes as his climbs the stairs.

"I hate you all."

"Love you too Mom!" Everyone calls out in unison.

"Quill, would you please go put some pants on now?" Sam complains.

"I dunno. I'm pretty comfy like this."

"Quill, go put some pants on." Scott says and the god huffs and gets up to go upstairs.

Pietro throws his wrist out and makes a whipping noise and a few people cackle. Quill returned with shorts on, but nobody complained since it was still a step up from just his boxers, and they kind of pitied him too. He ran warmer than the rest of them so he was probably still a little bit uncomfortable and would be until the house was completely cooled down. Stephen and Tony returned looking refreshed and dressed in light clothing and Tony sat on the couch after taking Lucy from Natasha. Stephen went back over to the kitchen to make a proper meal, which Bucky got up to help with.

"I've got it. You play your game." The sorcerer waves the soldier away.

"Oh, I'm out. Scott took every penny I had and I've been sitting and watching for the past half hour." Bucky says.

"Did he get Boardwalk and Park Place?"

"In two trips around the board. Lucky bastard." Bucky snorts. "Wanda might be next."

"Not might." Scott snickers when the woman pushes all of her money over to him and gets up.

Wanda looks at Emir and points at Scott. "Go get your daddy. He's lonely."

The tiger got up and lumbered over to Scott and the man protested loudly as Emir made himself comfortable by laying half of his body on Scott's lap. It took some readjusting, but the tiger was able to stay and Scott was able to keep playing the game, especially since Emir somehow managed not to bump the board.

"Not a house cat." Scott wheezed out in the middle of it all, making everyone laugh.

"I'll cut up the watermelon." Bucky offers as he takes it out of the fridge. "Pretty sure the kids will enjoy it when they come back inside."

"Watermelon slices on a hot summer day is a staple." Steve agrees and pushes his money toward Scott as well. "Sam, I wouldn't even bother drawing this out."

"Don't tell me what to do. I can still win." Sam grunts.

"You literally have fifty-three dollars to speak of."

"It can still happen!"

"It's true." Tony says. "I was in a similar situation but I only had six dollars and a get out of jail free card."

"That sound like something that could have happened during your bachelor days." Natasha snorts.

Tony looks at her, thinks about it, then shrugs.

"Probably happened then too."

#ironstrange #stephen strange #supremefamily #tony stark #mama bear stephen strange #antlord #peter quill #scott lang #mama bear au #the avengers kids #the avengers

[oikirstein]

𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲 | 𝐟𝐭. 𝐒.𝐇𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚, 𝐓.𝐊𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚, 𝐊.𝐊𝐨𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐞, & 𝐀.𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚

Synopsis: Mhm.

Contains: God so much second hand embarrassment, mega cringe, very not poggers

Posted: 1/30/2021

A/N: Ummmm so yeah... I definitely did not need to do this. At this point, I don’t even know if I wanted to do this. This is blatant slander and I hope you all will forgive me for the mess I’ve made :)

Edit: I’m adding this A/N after I’ve written everything...lmao sorry if these aren’t good, I’m too embarrassed for them to add more & also this was not proofread because it’s 1:30 AM and I need to wake up early to practice driving later

𝐒.𝐇𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚

I love Hinata, but he strikes me as the kid in elementary school who would bring one of those roller backpacks (with a flashy character, vibrant colors, idk like Lightening McQueen or something) and totally thought he was cool

Then at recess he would Naruto run all over the place (sometimes dragging along his backpack behind him)

Hinata is shameless and would definitely play with his food at lunch

I mean like making a well in his mashed potatoes and then pouring milk into it

He’s that one kid that rolls around in the dirt during P.E. and doesn’t mind the fact that he smells like someone mowed the grass and he was the lawn mower

At one point or another, he would get on all fours and bark at people

Believes the world is either pants or get pantsed

Was remembered as that kid in elementary school who threw up

𝐓.𝐊𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚

I hate thinking about him in this way, but it’s been brought to my attention that Kageyama would 100% have greasy hair

That boy might take amazing care of his nails and hands, but I just know the reason his hair is so oily is because he uses conditioner on his scalp

Would save a milk carton and put it in his bag for later and then forget until like a week later when his books start smelling like liquid ass

So this isn’t inherently bad, I just don’t agree with it: he pours milk into his coffee cake *gags cutely*

Kageyama in his quiet, brooding nature, is the one person people are scared to upset in class because they’re afraid of what he might do

The “emo kid”

Blasted My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, & Twenty One Pilots at 8 AM with cheap ass headphones that came free with a shirt he got

Like Hinata, Kageyama barks at people...but with his eyes

Like he doesn’t verbally bark, but he probably growls

Thinks Hinata is absolutely disgusting for mixing his potatoes and milk

𝐊.𝐊𝐨𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐞

This boy wakes up at like 2 AM to play video games, I think we can unanimously agree that his room probably smells like sweaty gym socks dipped in Monster energy drink

He has bottles upon bottles of half drank water bottles littering his floor

Kuroo has offered to help him throw them out, but Kenma is low-key proud of his collection

He saves the Monster cans to make those can guns, and he has them up on a shelf above his window

Not to mention the literal trash all over his desk from when he would snack during his games/streams

The only thing remotely neat about his room are his games

I know he organizes them and has a bookshelf to display them on

Kenma is also the type to not be able to see the floor, but know where everything is

Laundry basket is filled to the brim and is spilling onto the ground (Kuroo is starting to get concerned and believes that something is either living in there or starting to grow in there)

𝐀.𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚

5-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, bodywash, deodorant, and moisturizer 

Not just because he bleaches his hair, but because of his haircare product choice, he has the most brittle, dry, crispy, dead hair

Osamu on the other hand probably takes really good care of his hair, and even offered some purple shampoo to Atsumu, which Tsumu declined because “My hair already looks great!”

Either doesn’t wash his face at all or uses a bar of soap

He covers up his...musk... with copious amounts of AXE body spray

Thinks he smells amazing, but Osamu’s nose literally burns just standing next him

Being best friends with Suna, he probably wears a fake gold chain, sags his pants just a bit, and says “mamas,” “shawty,” and “the boys”

He’s “not like other guys” he’s “built different”

© all content [unless stated otherwise] belongs to gellysticks 2021. do not modify or repost.

reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

#gel scribbles #musty headcannons #headcannons #headcannon #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu headcannons #anime #anime headcannons #shoyo hinata #hinata shoyo #hinata headcannons #hinata #tobio kageyama #kageyama tobio #kageyama headcannons #kageyama #karasuno #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #kenma headcannons #kenma #nekoma #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu headcannons #atsumu #inarizaki #the second hand embarrassment is astronomical

[marveloussupernerd]

McDonalds - Jumin Han

Uh so this was supposed to be part 1 of my collection of one shots for a pregnancy mini series but it just turned into me writing about jumin’s first time at McDonald’s. If you squint you can see the allusion to a pregnancy if you don’t want to see that then don’t squint. NOT gender neutral, feel free to request something gender neutral if you’d like! This is a pregnancy series so it didn’t come to mind

Summary: you get sick in the middle of the night. There’s no sprite at home, so you force Jumin to go to McDonald’s with you so you can get some.

You had woken up with a start. Why did you feel so sick? Jumin’s hand rested on your arm as the two of you slept, his head tucked between your shoulder and your neck. You had wanted to move more subtly as to not stir him from his sleep but oh boy you felt sick. You yanked yourself off the bed and ran to the bathroom, flipping the lid of the toilet and allowing your body to release whatever was in it that made it so upset.

You hadn’t gotten sick like this in a while. Your body heaved with heavy breaths, you let out a cough, hoping it would relieve some pressure.

And then, he was rubbing your back. You turned your head slightly to look at him, tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“It’s okay,” he pressed a kiss to the back of your head. “You’re my wife. I want to be here for you.”

You took another deep breath, trying to decide if you would get sick again or not. Probably not? You closed the lid to the toilet and flushed it. You sniffled. It was embarrassing honestly. And you didn’t feel good. It was just not a good situation overall.

Jumin stood up first, offering his hand to gently help you up. “Is there anything I can get you that may help? I could make you some tea or something,” he offered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked rather handsome in his navy plaid pajama pants and powder blue t shirt. But tired. You felt bad once more for waking him up.

He sensed your emotions, as per usual, and sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “My love, it is not a problem at all. Please don’t feel bad. Are you still feeling ill?”

“It was probably something I ate,” you shrugged nonchalantly, making your way past him. “I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with fish.” You made your way to the kitchen, smoothing your sleep shirt. You knelt down in front of the fridge. “Do we have any sprite or ginger ale or anything?” You asked, pulling the door open and looking through the shelves. Jumin usually made the order for food, so it wasn’t surprising that you had no idea what you had on hand.

“Hmmm,” he knelt down next to you, resting his head on your shoulder as he peeked into the fridge. “I don’t think so. I can send someone out to get some though.”

You looked down at your phone. “At 4 am?”

“That is the time, yes.”

Oh Jumin. He was so innocent and sweet. He really didn’t realize how this call would inconvenience someone; his focus was on you. “We can’t do that; I don’t wanna bother anyone.” You swung the fridge closed and made your way back to your bedroom, rifling through your drawer to grab a bra to put on.

“What are you doing?” He asked, a look of utter confusion obvious on his face even in the dark of the bedroom.

“Will you get my coat for me love? I’m going to go get some sprite.” He walked away, very confused, but still listening to your request.

You walked over to the closet, grabbing a pair of sandals to slide on when you felt Jumin slide your coat onto your arms, his coat already on. “Aw, you’re coming with me love?” You grinned, pulling him into your embrace.

“Of course I am. Should I call Driver Kim?” He asked, pulling out his phone as he slipped some shoes on.

“Nah, we can walk. It isn’t far.”

The two of you padded outside the penthouse doors to greet the two security guards on call. “We’re going to go get a sprite. Would you mind joining?” You offered. Well it wasn’t really an offer, but you liked to make it seem that way. Jumin wrapped his arm around you; a gesture that pushed the men to agree to your proposal immediately. The four of you walked, your arm looped in Jumin’s as you clung to him for warmth. You were so focused on your upset stomach that you hadn’t even considered changing out of the shorts you were sleeping in. You rested your cheek against the shoulder of his coat, pulling him in the direction you wanted to go. It was only seven buildings down.

He was surprised when you stopped there. “A McDonald’s?”

“One of the few places open 24 hours with sprite, yes,” you affirmed, pulling him into the restaurant. You stood a few feet back from the register, shifting the weight between your feet as you looked at the menu. “You two need to get something too!” You exclaimed, turning to the security guards. They looked flustered by your proposal. “They’re only serving breakfast right now, but at the very least get a drink? For your trouble of having to go out so late.”

Jumin seemed... intrigued? How had your husband never been to a McDonald’s before. You knew he only ate healthy, but he had never even been inside a McDonald’s? It was weird. “Don’t worry, Honey. I’ll pick something out for you,” you winked, then turned back to the guards. “Yknow what you want?” You asked. Two hash browns and two large drinks. Nothing too complicated.

You walked up to the front register. Jumin hung back, still very overwhelmed. The man at the register looked to be in his early 20s and terribly confused. In retrospect, he was probably not used to a couple followed by two men in full suits walking in at four in the morning.

“Hi!” You greeted, cheery as ever. “Could I get a medium fountain drink, two large drinks, three hash browns, and three hotcakes?” You asked, twirling your wedding ring anxiously around your finger. It was helpful to fidget with something while you spoke, especially when ordering something. It helped you remember everything.

“Is that all for you?” He asked. He seemed hesitant. You reminded yourself, again, that he was probably confused.

Oh! You forgot to get Jumin a drink. You whipped around to face him. “You want something to drink, Bunny?” Short for Honey Bunny of course. You usually alternated between Honey and Bunny for him.

He stared at you, still in awe. Looks like the decision was up to you. “Uh, can I add another medium drink please? And then that’s all.”

Jumin eased his way up to you to pay. You tried to swipe him off but he wouldn’t let you, not that that surprised you though; he insisted on paying for everything. But when he heard the total, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. All that food for only $10 (fam or whatever the equivalent is where you live I’m lazy haha)!? How was that even possible?

After paying, the man handed you the drink cups then went to get started on the order. You passed out a cup to everyone in the party, but Jumin hesitated. “It’s empty,” he whispered, slightly under his breath. You knew he was embarrassed; he genuinely didn’t know what was going on.

“Mhm! And you go over to that drink fountain and fill it up with whatever you want.” You pointed to the guards filling theirs up with ice and Coca Cola. You gently grabbed his hand and pulled him to get his drink. “McDonalds sprite hits different. I don’t know. It’s extra crispy or something.”

“How does that even make-“ he stopped himself. To be fair you weren’t sure how it made sense either, but it was true. “What should I get?”

“Whatever you want! You can even mix them if you want.”

He made his way over to the tea: a safe bet. You helped him pull the lid on the cup, then went back to the front where your food was waiting.

“I’ve got it Mrs. Han,” the guard offered, grabbing onto the food for you so that you’d have an open hand to hold onto Jumin. You smiled, thanking him and the cashier, then heading out, holding Jumin’s hand tightly in your own.

“That was quite a fun experience.” Jumin smiled, walking back to the building under the dark night sky. A breeze passed by; you shivered. He smiled. “Don’t worry, Love. Once we get home we can bundle up and eat our food, then go right back to bed. Are you feeling better?”

You nodded. “The fresh air helped, and the sprite is helping too. I think it was a nice way to get my mind off of it,” you smiled, swinging your hands as you walked.

“So what exactly did you get me?” He asked, holding the door to the building open for you once you got there.

“Hash browns! Okay, you’re going to be skeptical because they are pretty unhealthy, but I swear they’re SO good.”

He laughed, pulling you close and kissing the side of your head. “Well I can’t wait to try them.”

#mystic messenger #mysme #Jumin Han #aye wtf was this why did I write this hope you like it tho #Jumin pregnancy

[440mxs-wife]

Baking Day

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

You rolled over and looked at your alarm clock to see that it was 7:47 am. You had a lot to do that day, and you wanted to get an early start. First order of business was a shower, then fix breakfast for you and the boys. After that, it was time to start baking treats to stock up in the freezer for winter.

Once you'd had your shower, you started your preparations for breakfast. You pulled out the skillet for frying bacon, then cracked some eggs into a bowl and whisked them together. You chopped some onions and diced some ham to add to the eggs. As the bacon started to turn crispy, you bustled about the kitchen making coffee and setting up the toaster.

Sam wandered into the kitchen and flipped the bacon over in the pan. "Oh, thank you, Sam. I was just coming back to do that," you mentioned.

"No problem, I've got it. You're up awfully early this morning," Sam remarked with a sidelong glance.

"Have a lot to do today. It's time to get started on the winter baking to stock up the freezer," you explained.

"Ooh, really? What are you making?" he asked with great interest.

"Some cookies, breads and of course, pie," you replied.

"Did someone say 'pie'?" asked Dean, who walked in more alert than usual.

You chuckled as you removed the last of the bacon from the pan and started cooking the eggs with the ham and onions in it. "Yes, Dean, there will be pie," you confirmed. "Some for the freezer, but I'll keep one out fresh just for you," you teased, tweaking his nose.

"Aw, you're too good to me sweetheart," he remarked.

"Hope you remember that the next time I ask to borrow the Impala," you replied with a grin over your shoulder. Then you returned your attention to finishing the eggs. You reached into the fridge for the cheese and mixed some in. Once it had melted, you transferred the eggs to a serving bowl and placed it on the table.

By this time, Jack had joined Sam and Dean at the table. "Wow, this looks great!" Jack exclaimed. "I was just going to have cereal, but this looks much better!" he gushed.

"Thank you, Jack. Eat up boys, but please don't take too long. I have a lot of baking to do today," you mentioned.

Jack turned to you after filling his plate with eggs, bacon and toast. "Can we help?" he asked enthusiastically.

You preferred to have the kitchen to yourself on a day like this, but you didn't have the heart to say no to Jack. "O-okay, does anyone else want to help?"

"I would, but Dean and I have a hunt to prepare for. It looks like a pretty simple salt-and-burn, but I still need to research," Sam explained.

"Well, Cas isn't here at the moment, so looks like it's just you and me today, Jack," you said brightly. "We'll clean up from breakfast, then get started, okay?" you asked.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jack's blue eyes lit up with excitement at the chance to help you. While the boys are out hunting, you saw it as your job to take care of everyone in the bunker, especially him. You make sure the boys all have clean clothes, that injuries are patched up and you certainly keep them all well-fed. Almost like their mother, you thought with a smile. You get after Dean when he drinks more beer than water. You nudge Sam to go off to bed when he falls asleep researching in the library late at night. You're always available for Cas whenever he has questions about human customs or pop culture references.

And you've always been there for Jack whenever he has a nightmare, which you noticed has been happening a lot lately. He usually doesn't realize you're there, though, until you bring him out of it. You place a cold washcloth on his forehead and take his hand gently in yours as he slowly but surely wakes up.

As soon as Jack opens his eyes, he sort of collapses into your arms, burying his head in your shoulder. You rock him back and forth, rubbing his back and whispering soothing words in his ear. Once he calms down again, you gently lay him on his bed. His eyes usually close again as soon as his head hits the pillow. You brush the hair from his forehead, kiss his temple and slip out the door back to your room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

With Jack's assistance, you cleaned up the dishes from breakfast. Next, you pulled your mixing bowls out of the cupboards. "Okay, Jack, let's get started! First, we'll make the pumpkin and banana breads. Which one would you like to make?" you asked.

He thought for a minute, and decided he would make the banana bread. You gave him a mixing bowl and one of the box mixes. He followed you step by step, adding the eggs and other ingredients. Together, you poured the batter into the respective loaf pans, slid them into the oven and set the timer.

You smiled at Jack, who beamed at you in return. He was happy to be included in something he considered to be so important, and to be spending time with you. "Next item on the list, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies!" you declared. You took out your largest mixing bowl and added the butter, sugar and other ingredients. As you called them out, Jack made it his mission to find each ingredient in the cupboard or the fridge and bring it to you.

When it came time to add the chocolate chips, you told Jack to hold out his hands. You opened the bag, then poured some in his hands. You poured some into your hand and just before popping them in your mouth, you winked and grinned at Jack. He followed your example and groaned in appreciation as the chocolate melted in his mouth.

By the time you had finished making the cookie batter, the pumpkin and banana breads were finished baking. You turned to pull them out of the oven, but Jack already had one of the loaf pans in his bare hands. "Oh my goodness, Jack! Put that down on the counter right now, you'll burn your fingers!" He did as he was told and you frantically grabbed his hands to check for injuries. You didn't care if the rest of the bread loaves burned. You were more concerned with seeing if Jack was hurt.

You pulled him over to the sink and started a stream of cold water. You held his hands under the cold water, hoping blisters wouldn't form on his fingers. After a few minutes, you pulled his hands out from under the water to inspect them. You were relieved to see that there were no blisters from what would normally have been a second or third degree burn. You turned off the faucet and leaned back against the sink, trying to collect your thoughts.

Jack nudged your arm then laid a hand on your shoulder. "A-Are you all right?" he asked.

"I should be asking you that, Jack. I am so sorry, I should've told you about using the oven mitts to take things out of the oven," you explained. You walked over to where the mitts were hanging on the wall and pulled them on. You removed the remaining loaves of bread, set them on the counter and closed the oven.

"Jack, I apologize. You really could have gotten hurt, even though I know you can heal your own injuries. A mom is supposed to give you proper instructions on what do when the oven timer goes off," you muttered. "I-I mean, a mom-type person," you quickly corrected.

"But I am not injured. I was able to heal myself, so everything's okay," he said as he showed me both hands.

"Yes, I know, Jack, but you can't always count on that. From now on, let's be careful, okay? Please?" you implored.

He thought for a few seconds, then smiled at you. "Okay, I promise," he grinned and gave you a hug.

"All righty, Jack. Let's get back to work. Carefully, though," you cautioned as you returned his embrace.

The rest of the baking was completed without further injury to either you or Jack. True to your word, you left one apple pie out on the counter for Dean to sample when he and Sam got back. The freezer was now stocked with pumpkin and banana breads, as well as apple, cherry and peach pies. There were also dozens of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies to have with hot cocoa on cold winter nights.

You had just closed the freezer with all of the newly-baked goodies when you heard a whoosh of wings, signaling the arrival of Castiel. "Good evening, Cas," you said with a weary smile. Just his mere presence made your heart happy. You hoped that it wasn't too obvious that you had a crush on your angel friend. You were pretty sure that Sam and Dean didn't know, otherwise, you'd never hear the end of it. That, and you doubted that Cas felt for you anything remotely like you felt for him.

When you first met Castiel, you were mesmerized by the intensity of his ocean-blue eyes. They seemed to peer straight into your soul, as if trying to see all of your secrets. You admired how he would always strive to do what was right, even when it was difficult. He was kind, loyal and his innocence regarding certain topics was endearing to you. You loved the sound of his voice, deep and gravelly, which made his thoughts on any subject something worth listening to.

"Good evening to you. I see you have been busy today, judging by all of the dirty dishes in the sink and the well-stocked freezer," he remarked.

"Well, Jack and I were pretty busy today, making breads, pies and cookies. It was nice to have his help in the kitchen," you answered. "I had hoped that maybe you could have joined us. Oh, but I'm sure you were busy with other, more important matters," you added hastily.

Sensing your mood, Cas asked, "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I guess," you started as your gaze dropped to the floor. "Well....I thought that Jack got hurt earlier by taking a something out of the oven with his bare hands. He didn't know about using oven mitts, and I forgot to tell him. He's fine and everything, no injuries, but....if he was a full human....Cas, he would really have been hurt, and it would've been my fault," you finished quietly.

As you walked towards Jack's bedroom, Cas was close behind you, talking about how he spent his day. Sam and Dean had already left their dirty clothes in the laundry room for you, but you didn't yet have any of Jack's clothes. You knocked on Jack's door and asked for his dirty laundry, which you then took to be washed.

While you sorted the clothes, you were humming a song that was your mom's favorite. "Can I help you with anything?" Cas asked. "It's getting late, and you look like you need some rest," he pointed out.

You laid a hand on his trench-coated arm and smiled. "Oh, I'm fine, Cas. After I start this laundry, I'll tidy up in the library on my way to the kitchen. Then I can tackle those dishes Jack and I used. Once I get all of that done, only then will I feel like I can relax. Is there something I can get for you? Glass of water, cup of tea, beer, anything?" you asked.

Cas put one hand on your shoulder and one on your cheek as he peered into your hazel eyes. "Take a deep breath. Don't worry about me, if I need something, I know where to find it," he said as he winked at you.

You chuckled as you started the laundry, then as planned, you moved on to tidy up the library, humming to yourself. Jack opened his door to find Castiel staring after you, shaking his head and grinning at seeing your sudden burst of energy. "Castiel! When did you get here?" Jack asked.

Cas explained that he had just arrived, and that the two of you had a nice conversation. "How was your day, Jack?" he asked.

"It was great, I got to help in the kitchen today! We made pumpkin and banana breads, cookies, even pie," Jack beamed with pride.

"That's what I heard. I'm glad you had a good time. You have a wonderful teacher, by the way. She comes from a long line of expert bakers," Cas remarked.

"I know, she was very patient with me. Only, I scared her when I took stuff out of the oven," he dropped his gaze. "She thought I got hurt, and got upset. She blamed herself for not telling me about using the oven mitts," he said quietly. "But I tried to tell her that it wasn't her fault, and I didn't get hurt," he quickly added.

"You must remember to be careful, Jack. You may not always be able to heal yourself, you know," Cas remarked. "She is very fond of you, Jack, and considers you as part of her family. She doesn't want to see anyone get hurt, especially those she loves," he explains.

"She's so wonderful, Cas. She takes such good care of everything and everyone in this bunker--Sam, Dean, me and even you sometimes. She's sweet and kind, and....sometimes I forget that she's not my mother. I-I know I never met my mother in person, but I saw the video she left me," Jack explained. "Do you think she and my mother would have been friends?" he asked.

"Your mother was an extraordinary woman. She was courageous and nothing was more important to her than you and your happiness," Cas replied. "I'm certain they would have been friends. And I'm sure that your mother would be happy to know that you are so well-protected and loved here," he smiled.

"I think so too," Jack remarked. Then he asked Cas where you were, because he wanted to tell you how much fun he had today.

"I believe she said that she was going to tidy things up in the library, then head to the kitchen to take care of the dishes," Cas frowned. "However, I wish she would just relax instead of trying to do everything by herself," he grumbled.

Jack and Cas walked towards the kitchen, where the lights were off. Jack turned them on and saw that all of the dishes had been washed and were set out to dry overnight. "Where is she?" he wondered.

They retraced their steps from the kitchen. Then Castiel noticed you curled up in a corner of the couch, fast asleep. Both of them smiled at your sleeping form, because you still had a dish-drying towel slung over your shoulder. Cas told Jack he would watch over you while you slept, so Jack went off to bed. Before he did, though, he leaned over and kissed your forehead. Jack then smiled at Castiel, then returned to his room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Castiel removed his trench coat and suit jacket and reached for your favorite blanket. He draped it around you, then sat next to you on the couch. He tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, and took a moment to study you as you slept. He noticed the light dusting of freckles across your button-like nose, and a faint blush colored your cheeks.

He remembered the first time he met you, after a particularly nasty vampire hunt. Blood spatters were everywhere, on your clothes, in your hair, and on your body. Sam was the least injured of the group, so you sent him to the showers first. Then you turned your attention to Dean, and stitched up his wounds. Dean tried to take care of you before him, because your wounds looked worse. He knew you'd been bitten, so you had likely lost more blood, but you firmly insisted that Dean was healed first.

Once you finished first aid on Dean, you started to feel a bit lightheaded from the blood loss. You lost consciousness and passed out on the motel bed. That was when they called Cas in to help heal you. When Cas first saw you, he thought you were the most dazzling woman he'd ever seen. But, beyond your outward appearance, he also saw how pure and beautiful your soul was. He liked what he saw, and decided that he wanted to know more.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cas slid his arm around your shoulders and gently pulled you closer to his left side. You shifted closer, resting your head on his upper body and your hand on his chest. Cas leaned over to rest his head to yours and detected the scent of strawberries from your shampoo. He closed his eyes and curled his fingers around your hand on his chest. When he brushed his lips to the back of your wrist, he could smell the vanilla from your body wash on your skin. For a moment, Cas wondered if your perfect pink lips were as soft and sweet as they appeared to be.

Some time later, Cas felt you stir a little as he held you. First, he heard you mumble in your sleep, mostly about someone being hurt. "Jack!" you murmured. Your head moved back and forth, and Cas could feel your body trembling in fear. "No, leave him alone! Sam, Dean, help me! Cas, please get Jack out of here," you begged, as sobs wracked your body.

Castiel brought his other arm around to cradle you, drawing you closer. "Shh, shh, everything's all right, Honeybee," he soothed. "You're safe now, I promise," he whispered. At that moment, all he could think of was how much he wanted to keep hold of you and protect you from every evil in the world.

A few minutes later, your body stopped shaking. When you opened your honey-and-green colored eyes, you saw Cas looking down at you, his blue eyes filled with concern.

"Cas? Is everything all right?" you asked sleepily.

"I should ask you the same question. It seems you fell asleep here on the couch, and had a nightmare. Would you like to talk about it?" Cas asked.

You thought for a minute, trying to remember what happened in your nightmare. "Someone was hurting my family. This time, it was Jack who had been captured, and someone was hurting him. I was restrained somehow, and pleaded with you, Sam and Dean to help Jack, to rescue him and take him away. Only it seemed like none of you could hear me, so they kept on hurting Jack," you replied. You broke down into tears again, which caused Cas to take you back into his arms.

Suddenly, you bolted down the hall to Jack's room, with Cas right behind you. You carefully opened Jack's bedroom door, relieved to see him sound asleep in his bed. You quietly closed the door, leaned against the wall just outside his room and breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly, you returned to the living room area and sat on the edge of the couch. Cas took your hands in his and resumed his earlier seat on the couch next to you.

"I'm sorry, Cas. For some reason, I had to see Jack with my own eyes. I had to make sure he was okay, after that nightmare I had," you explained.

"I understand. You were very upset from your nightmare, Honeybee. It's only natural that you would want visual confirmation that all was well," Cas replied. While he held your hand, he traced small circles on the back with his thumb.

Your ears perked up at the new nickname Cas gave you. "Cas, did you just call me 'Honeybee'?" you asked tentatively.

He tilted his head to one side as he thought for a moment before answering. "Well, yes, because you're sweet like honey, and you're hard-working like the bees," he responded simply. He continued to hold your hand, then asked, "Why? Do you not like it?"

Cas' gentle strokes on the back of your hand were making it difficult for you to concentrate. "Um, no Cas, I like it. It's fine. It's just that nicknames like that are usually reserved for when two people are more than friends," you replied, as your gaze dropped to the floor.

"About that....I've been having these....feelings where you're concerned. I feel warm just from being around you, and there's a fluttering in my stomach. My heart seems to beat faster whenever I just think of you. I took some time to study you as you slept, and noticed some wondrous things. For example, I noticed that you have freckles on your nose, and I love the smell of your shampoo. It's like strawberries," he added with a grin, which you couldn't help but return.

"I'll remember to get some more, then," you replied. "Wh-what else di-did you notice?" you stammered.

Cas reached up to cradle your face between his hands. "I remember thinking how smart and funny you are. I see that very often, you put the well-being of others before yourself. You take such good care of everyone and everything around you. But, I believe that you deserve to have someone to ensure that you are taken care of as well. Perhaps someone who thinks of you as more than his friend," Cas added softly as he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

"Did you have someone in mind? Or do you know of someone who already thinks of me that way?" you asked. You were staring so intently at Cas' blue eyes that you didn't notice he was slowly closing the gap between you. By the time you realized it, his lips were on yours in a gentle but tentative kiss, almost as if he were testing the waters.

Cas pulled back a little to break the kiss and touched his forehead to yours. Your right hand reached up to cup his cheek, and your left hand curled around the back of his neck. You traced his strong jawline with your index finger. Before Cas could completely break away, though, you tugged on his neck to bring him back. You meshed your lips with his, the kiss a little deeper and more insistent this time.

"Oh, Cas," you whispered. "I've imagined this moment thousands of times. I didn't say anything before because I didn't want to lose our friendship if your feelings weren't the same. I'm glad to have someone in my life who cares for me as much as I care for him. I love you, Castiel," you remarked.

"And I love you, Honeybee. You know, Jack told me he had a great day today, being able to help you. I could tell he appreciated how patient you were with teaching him. He said that you remind him of his mother, Kelly Kline. I think that he has been missing her a lot lately, which could explain why his nightmares have been so frequent. I also think that having you around makes him miss her less. I am glad for that," Cas finished.

"What a wonderful thing for him and for you to say," you replied softly as you felt your cheeks grow warm. "I wish I could have met her. I can't ever take her place and wouldn't want to try. But if Jack needs someone 'mom-like' to talk to, I will definitely be there for him. Just as I will always be there for you," you promised.

"I will always be there for you as well, my Honeybee," Cas replied. You leaned towards each other until your lips met in a fiery, passion-filled kiss. You slid your hand up from Cas' cheek and started running your fingers through his raven-black hair. You massaged the top of his head with your fingertips, drawing a soft growl of pleasure from your angel. "Sweetheart, I believe it is best if we continue this activity elsewhere," he said huskily.

You nodded your agreement and rose up from the couch, holding out your hand. Castiel took it in his own and interlaced his fingers with yours as the two of you walked to your bedroom. Once inside, you made sure to lock your door to prevent any interruptions.

#castiel #castiel x reader #spn imagines #spn fluff

[prettyboongi]

Just Spill It

Reader x Kim Taehyung 

2k+ words

Genre: Crack, Fluff

[Note: I’ve been written fic lately because of school and everything. I actually had to work on a huge paper all week and was waiting until I got everything out of the way to write this. And boy, this request was such a doozy lol. The game that everyone plays in the story is that “Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts” game on James Corden late night show. And I have to be honest: I’m not a huge fan of talk shows or even Corden’s show for that matter. So I had to watch a bunch of videos the shows clips on YouTube just to understand the game. So yeah, this request was super challenging and I hope I got everything right ^-^}

You were putting the finishing touches on the chocolate cupcakes you’ve spent the past couple of hours baking when you heard the doorbell rang. “Must be them,” you thought to yourself. Checking the time, you saw that it was a little bit past seven in the evening. “A little late but, with them, what’s new? ”. You gave your sticky hands a quick rinse and headed towards the door. 

Tonight was a very sacred night for you and the boys: the coveted Game Night. Always organized by you and thrown at your place, Game Night for you guys were legendary. Starting off with a harmless game, again of your choosing, the night would always end with someone throwing a temper tantrum, crying dramatically, yelling match between two or more of the boys or someone having to act out a degrading yet hilarious penalty for losing. Sure it was complete chaos but it was also tons of fun. There was never a dull moment with these nerds and you really cherished the time you had with them. With recording sessions, promoting albums and projects in between, it was very hard to find time to hang out. While you understand their obligations to BTS, it still makes you feel lonely most of the time. That’s why Game Night was super important to you and, knowing how important it was for you, the boys always left the planning to you. 

You opened the door to an assortment of greetings, one more zany than the last. “Hey guys,” you welcomed, “come on in”. As the boys spilled in, you had to remind them about being a little less rowdy, the last Game Night being interrupted by your neighbors filing a noise complaint. “I’d rather not have the cops being called to my place again.”

“Well we wouldn’t have had the police called on us if Jin hyung didn't have that huge freak out,” Jungkook says teasingly. 

“Well,” Jin responds with a fake smile, trying to hide his annoyance, “I wouldn’t have freaked out if Yoongi here wasn’t cheating!” He gestures to a totally unbothered Yoongi already relaxing on the sofa. 

Stifling your laughter, you walked over to the kitchen to check on sweets you were finishing up. There you found Taehyung chowing down on the cupcakes. Seeing that he already had eaten three of the dozen you’ve made, you derided him, “Tae! Stop being a pig and save the rest for the others.” 

He swallowed a mouth full of cupcake and smiled cheekily. “Come on, Y/N, you know that these are my favorite. You obviously made them for me.” He pointed to the thin strawberry slices you placed on top. 

You opened your mouth in protest but stopped immediately. Yes, you knew chocolate cupcakes were his favorite. Especially with strawberries. And yes you made them with him in mind. But no way were you going to give him the satisfaction. 

He eyes you impishly, as if he won this conversation. You took the cupcake tray from his reach and said to him sternly, “just wait until everyone had at least one, then you can eat the leftovers. Deal?”

“Deal” 

Walking over to the living room area with Taehyung trailing behind you, you placed the tray of cupcakes next to the fried chicken Namjoon had brought over. You saw that everyone was helping themselves to heaping amounts of the crispy, savory chicken. “Please try not to fill up too much food tonight,” you warned them, “you guys will need to leave some room for what we’re playing tonight.” 

“Oh, what do you have planned for us tonight?”, asked Namjoon before taking a huge bite of his food.

Before you could answer, Hoseok interjects, “Oooh! Let me guess. Striped poker?” 

“No Hoseok,” you flatly answered, shutting him down. 

“Strip Monopoly?” Jimin adds. 

“No guys, no one is taking their clothes off. Especially not after that one Game Night,” you said rather dimly. The boys shuddered as they remembered that ill-fated night, a story left for another time. “But yeah, I got this idea from a night talk show that I found myself watching one night. The host was playing this game with their guest where they had both get to ask each other some pretty invasive questions. But if either of them chooses not to answer the question they were given, they had to eat or drink something gross that the other person picked out for them. I thought it was pretty funny and we could all try it.”  Despite being excited yourself, you couldn’t help but notice an array of mixed emotions. 

“I dunno, Y/N, it sounds kinda...sketchy”, Namjoon says. 

“I mean yeah, but that’s kinda the point. Come on, you have to admit it's pretty interesting.”

“To be perfect honest, this game sounds fucking awful,” Yoongi opens, “but hey, what the hell. Let's how it goes.” 

You ushered the guys to the balcony, where it was decorated with glowing string lights and a new set of furniture bought for this occasion. You presented the boys to a medium size table, topped with what was assumed plates covered with linen napkins. 

“Here’s what we’re dealing with tonight, gentlemen,” you announced rather theatrically. One by one, you lifted up each napkin, revealing a collection of foods you knew that would churn some stomachs: fried octopus, super spicy cinnamon candies, 100% cacao chocolate, mint creme Oreos, a spinach milkshake, ambrosia salad and a fluffernutter sandwich. The boys examined each dish, some already nauseated by the sight of certain dishes. “I didn’t want to go too far like the show did,” you explained, “just took some ideas from friends back home and food I know some of you already hate.” 

“Are there any winners in this game?,” Jimin asks cautiously

“No, there aren’t. Okay everyone have a seat!” After everyone had taken a seat, you went over how the game works again. “Oh, I forgot to add that you guys don’t have to necessarily finish the food. Under the table, there’s a few little trash bins you can spit into. But come on, I’m going easy on you guys, you shouldn’t need to spit anything out.” 

“You call a spinach milkshake ‘going easy’ on us?” Jungkook asks. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you gave Jungkook a mocking look while sitting yourself between Jin and Yoongi. “So here’s how we’re gonna take turns. We’ll start with me, then we’ll go clockwise ending with Yoongi. Is that good?” Murmurs of agreement answered your question. “Okay, for my turn I pick… Namjoon!” The sound of hearing his name startles him, causing his body to go rigid. “If you don’t answer my question, you’d have to eat the fried octopus. 

“Ha, bring it then” Namjoon says, trying to feign as much confidence that he can. 

“Alright,” you paused for a moment, “If you choose a Disney character to make out with, who would it be?” 

“Oh that’s easy. Undoubtedly, Miss Potts,” he says matter of factly. The table goes silent, weirded out by such a choice. 

“From Beauty and the Beast?”, you asked.

“Yeah.” 

“Why?” asks Hoseok. 

“Well, she’s a cool character. She has a warm personality and she seems like a great mom to Chip. Who wouldn’t pick her?” 

Somehow that leaves even more questions than answers any. “Okay…,” you respond, still a bit perturbed, “Jin’s turn.” 

Jin looks around the table to find his perfect target and finds it in none other than Jimin. “Jimin, I pick the mint Oreos for you if you don’t answer my question.” Jimin puts on a brave face but it’s obvious the anticipation is killing him inside. “There was one time during that afterparty a while ago when I saw you and Seulgi running off somewhere. You told me you two were just chatting but what were you two really up to?,” He asked with a mischievous smirk on his face. Ooooohs” echoed around the table as we waited for Jimin’s answer. With a stony smile plastered on his face, Jimin stares at Jin for a moment before reaching out for an Oreo. He takes a huge bite of the minty cookie while keeping his stare at Jin, ultimately gagging on it and having to spit out the whole thing. The whole table erupts in laughter as you said, “We’re off to a good start.” 

As the night went by, the game carried on without any issues. Among the highlights was Hoseok revealing his biggest (and not surprising) kink and watching Jungkook down an entire spinach milkshake. Seeing how much fun the gang were having, you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself for pulling off yet another successful Game Night. The game was nearing its end when the last turn went to Yoongi. And since you were the only one that hasn’t been asked a question, it was obvious this one was going to be directed towards me. 

Yoongi turns to you, “The ambrosia salad for this simple question.” You nodded in agreement, not knowing what he meant by “simple”. “Are you in love with Taehyung?” 

All around, everyone pauses at Yoongi’s question. Especially you, whose mind goes blank for a moment before speaking up. “What? What’re you talking about? What kind of question is that?” You tried laughing it off. 

“A simple one,” he answers. “Are you in love Taehyung?” 

“Of course, I love him. He’s like my best friend-” 

“I mean, we all know that but are you IN love with him?” Namjoon interjects. 

You look around the entire table, leaning in to hear your answer. Your eyes eventually land on Taehyung sitting across from you. He’s clearly embarrassed yet interested in hearing your answer as well. You felt your face burning up as well as your heartbeat quickening from all of this unwanted attention.. You could’ve taken the easy way out and lied, you were sure of the guys were lying when answering their questions. But you couldn’t. One, for the integrity of Game Night and second, you would have to answer yes. For the longest time, you never wanted to admit to yourself but you were in love with Taehyung. Madly in love with him. You loved the banter the two of you developed over the years. You loved how he would annoy you and then make it up by being extremely adorable. You love how he was the only man that ever made you feel special. Without any doubt, you were in love with him. However, you weren’t about to reveal it in front of the boys while playing this dumb game. 

After much anticipation, you deeply sighed and ate a huge spoonful of the slightly warm ambrosia salad. You tried your best to swallow it but the conflicting  textures of creamy base and the coconut flakes was too much for you. Feeling that you were about to barf, you quickly got up and ran back into the apartment. You reached the bathroom (and thankfully the toilet) and regurgitated everything you tried to keep down. You felt some tears forming at the corner of your eyes, not sure if it was from throwing up or the sheer humiliation you’ve just experienced. “Don’t let this get to you, it’s just part of the game,” you told yourself. You wiped the tears from your eyes, rinsed your mouth with mouthwash and headed out of the bathroom. 

As you were walking back to the balcony, you bumped into Taehyung in the hallway. “Oh…,” was all you could muster to say. There was a brief awkward silence between you two, a rarity in your close relationship. Taehyung looks away as he scratches the back of his head while you kept your head down. “I should’ve known I was going to be hit with a question like that,” you finally opened, “ Yoongi never plays around, doesn't he?.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung responds, “except for when he’s cheating.” 

You both look at each other for a moment before breaking into a light laughter, easing the tension. Once you were done giggling, you caught Taehyung staring at you with his gorgeous, sharp eyes. The look in his eyes were filled with sincere and the kind of intimacy only two best friends shared. Or maybe there was something more to that look. 

"Tae-," you started but stopped when Taehyung put his hand up to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb. 

"You don't have to say anything, Y/N" he says to you. 

Earlier when Jimin asked if there were any winners in the game, it turned out there were two that night. 

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts reaction #bts reactions #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #reader x taehyung #reader x tae #kim taehyung #bts v #v #bts crack #bts fluff #taehyung fanfic #bangtan seonyeondan

[heart-eye-harrington]

the last midnight ~ chapter two

Summary: Every aspect of Prince Steve’s life is mapped out with one objective in mind: become king when the time comes. After Robin gives him a taste of freedom, his parents return. When they feel something is off, they get to the bottom of it. 

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: none I can think of. Possibly harsh parents and men yelling

Author’s Note: Hi! I hope you’re doing well! Enjoy this plot building chapter before the big daddy that’s gonna be the next one!  ♡

read the last part here

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

After your handsome strangers left, the rest of the walk to the bakery wasn’t too terrible. The birds seem to sing a bit brighter, the setting sun’s colors a bit more vibrant. Steve’s boyish laugh seems to be the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. You can’t seem to stop thinking about him, your mind whirling with a million questions. The most important, would you ever see him again?

You’re able to escape your daydream long enough to climb the steps of your family’s shop. You use your hip to open the door, seeing as your hands were occupied with the filled buckets of water. Warmth hits you like a wall, and you know your father is well into his evening routine. The fresh bread sits on the shelf, ready to be wrapped and tied with twine to be sold. By the smell, you know there’s some baking  in the large stove oven, getting a golden crispy brown. 

After a moment of shuffling through the store, as not to knock anything over with the fruits, or buckets, of your labor, your father comes rushing to your aid. He takes a bucket and brings it into the kitchen, giving small thanks for your journey. He quickly adds it to the dry ingredients but sees something in your eyes. While he’s used to your head being in the clouds, it must be well past the stars now. He shakes his head, telling you to spill the beans. Blushing, you tell him of Mr. Steve the apprentice and his friend Robin.

“You’re acting as if you’re the first person to ever meet a pretty boy”

“But he wasn’t a pretty boy.” your words, thought quick and defensive, had a mellowness to them. “Well, he was a pretty boy, but there was so much more to him.”

“Well how much more? You’ve only met him once! How could you know anything about him?” curiosity curls throughout your father’s question. 

“You told me you knew right away when you meet mother”

“That’s different, your mother wasn’t a stranger hidden under a hood”

“Well, you would have loved her anyway.”

“I never would have seen her because it wouldn’t have been appropriate. And my father would have told me what I’m telling you. And I would have listened.”

“No you wouldn’t,” you knowingly chuckle

“Yes I would” he quips back

���No, you wouldn’t”

“I would”

“Wouldn’t.”

“And you’re right.” you beam in your small victory, though it gradually falls with you deeper in thought. Your mother was vibrant, full of life and love. She believed in magic, in true love, and fairy godmothers. She said that they existed, that she remembers them, but isn’t sure where they went off to. 

When she grew sick, doctor after doctor would come in to see her, until one day when they didn’t. Your father sat you down, tried to put on a brave face, but how could someone break such news to a young girl? He didn’t have to say anything. If it took him that long to work out a way to say it, you already knew. 

She passed on all her stories to you, and you felt it was your duty to share the magic with everyone else. Before you fall any deeper into her beautiful memory, your father places a hand on your shoulder. You find your emotions mirrored in his eyes. You both missed her terribly. Before words can be exchanged, a customer comes in. You both wipe the tears, put on smiling faces, and extend helping hands. 

⋆★⋆

Robin was able to sneak Steve back into the castle with time to spare. They both wash up and redress in their usual clothes, Robin in her blouse and royal blue vest, Steve in his hand-embroidered tuxedo. Though he much preferred the billowy white shirt he had donned for the day, he couldn’t deny the beauty in the curling gold designs and cold metallic clasps. 

Once Robin’s done dressing, she rushes into Steve’s room to collect his village disguise. If they were really going to get away with this, she needed to get rid of any and all evidence. After giving their secret knock and hearing Steve’s muffled “come in”, she finds him leaning against the railing of his balcony, dreamily staring over the gardens. After draping his discarded clothes over her arm, she joins him. 

“Thank you” his voice a distant whisper. 

“For?” she raises an eyebrow at his ambiguity. 

“Giving me a bit of freedom. Letting me out of these walls for a day.”

“Well, you’re welcome. I couldn’t let you sit here all cooped up your whole life without feeling a bit bad for you. Plus, you’d probably never stop moaning and groaning about it.” A smile tugs at the corner of Steve’s lips. It only intensifies as she keeps talking.

“But I also know you’re thinking about that girl.” 

“What girl?” the smile has fully taken over his face. Robin’s not a fan of the stupid act he always pulls, earning him a playful punch to the arm. Their laughter fills the air, which is quickly punctured by the sound of trumpets, alerting the staff that the king and queen had returned. 

“Come on, we’ll be late. And punctuality is-” Steve chimes in, the two finishing in unison and mocking voices “the politeness of princes.”  The words had been spoken by Steve’s father so many times they had made a joke of it. Of course, they would never dare to do it in front of him, so they took full advantage of the fleeting moments they had. 

Robin was quick to hide the clothes in the abandoned servant’s tunnels, before following Steve to the grand foyer. 

The extensive hallway seems to stretch for an eternity, creating a sea between the teens and the door his parents will walk in through at any moment. 

“Their Majesties, The King and Queen.” A guard calls out. The heavy wooden doors are pulled open to reveal the pair, regal as ever. Steve knows the routine at this point, stiffening and pulling back his shoulders as he watches their approach. Robin shifts her weight from leg to leg from behind him also watching the parade. 

The cream and gray checkered marble floor make their highness’s cold steps echo. The dozens of chandeliers and statuesque guards do nothing to add warmth. Steve’s parents’ wandering eyes seem to look everywhere but to him, inspecting their perfect castle for the off chance anything is out of place. Even as much as a speck of dust could halt them in their tracts and bring an end to someone’s employment. Luckily for all involved, everything was up the their extremely high standards.

No words are exchanged between the royal family, just nods, and a motion to follow. Not that anyone expected anything different. 

Steve and Robin follow his parents and some guards to the portrait room. The guards open the door, allowing the party to enter. A giant floor to far-too-tall ceiling window illuminates a hand-painted backdrop and a man with an oversized smock rushing about. A guard clears his throat and raises an arm motioning toward the artist

“Master Phoebus, master of the paintbrush, patiently awaits.”

 In front of the painted sunset is a stool with a saddle place upon it. The painter’s assistant is quick to place a fittingly royal blue shoulder cape on the prince, fastening its golden clasps. Steve climbs upon the stool, and Robin does her best to bite back a chuckle. She knew how much he hated portraits of himself being painted, but oh how ridiculous he looked. Once everything is set to the artist’s liking, he grabs a palette and begins.

“Make him look marriageable, Master Phoebus. We must attract a suitable bride.” The king’s voice boomed throughout the room. 

“I shall endeavor to please, your majesty. But, I am not a fairy godmother.”

The nickname brings a small blush and smile to Steve’s face, one that does not go unnoticed by his parents. Their eyes narrow and find one another’s, a wordless agreement to find the reason for his reaction. Robin, ever able to read a situation, picks up on their scheming and aims to distract.

“A splendid canvas, master Phoebus!” her words are a bit overzealous, but her goal of diversion is completed. 

“Thank you,” the painter responds with a pompous chuckle, getting a sword for Steve to pose with. “Now, let’s see if he knows anything about art.” 

“So these portraits will really be sent abroad, to persuade the high and mighty to attend this ball you insist on?” the urge to roll his eyes was strong, but Steve knew he could never do that in front of guests, let alone his parents.

“Which is a tradition, which is beloved,” the queen speaks up,

“And at which you will choose a bride” his father finished the thought, plunging the room into an uncomfortable silence. Steve looks to his feet, and despite the invisible hand crushing his chest, he finds a crumb of courage to speak up.

“If I must marry, could I not marry, say, an honest country girl?” he surprises even himself with his words. Robin wants to scream, in pride or scolding she’s still not sure. 

“What will this country girl provide? How shall she make the kingdom stronger? We are a small kingdom amongst great states, Steven. It is a dangerous world. ” The king leaves his wive’s side to stand just in front of Steve. His eyes fill with a fire so bright Steve swears he can feel it searing his skin. “Listen here, boy. They only way for you to be a proper king is to marry a princess.” Steve’s eyes narrow as well. He’s on a roll, a momentum he’s not sure he’ll every get back. He fights the gravel in his throat, probably his body’s better judgement. 

“Alright father, under one condition. Let the invitations go to everyone, not just the nobility. Hope is a strong gift that should be shared with everyone, is it not?” Steve raises an innocent eyebrow, but the king sees through it. He sneers, turning to his wife and Robin off to the side.

“What do you think? Would that please the people?” his gaze falls to Robin, his face reminding her of a plotting dragon. Treading lightly, she answers.

“I’m not sure if it’s my place to say, your majesty, but I wouldn’t mind a bit of a jolly.” she chuckles, nerves and the idea of having everyone in the kingdom be able to attend a ball released in the joyous sound. The king seems pleased, turning back to Steve.

“I think we might have made a bargain. A ball for the people,” he gestures to his son, “and a princess for the prince.” 

“Sounds like a step in the right direction, if you ask me” Phoebus mutters to himself, mixing his paint to just the right shade for Steve’s hair. 

“We didn’t ask you” the king snaps, venom dripping from his words. And with that, he beacons for his wife to follow him out of the room. 

The call for their horses, and make their way deep into the woods. If it weren’t for the moon’s light and frequency of the trip, they may have gotten lost in the twisting branches and lurching roots. It’s not long before their destination comes into view.

Housed in the exposed roots of a huge tree was a small hut. As they grew closer, they saw bright flashes of color through the windows, showing the inhabitant was still awake. When they reach the hut, they dismount and knock on the door. Clinking glass and chuckling comes from the other side, before it’s opened to reveal the witch. 

Your mother was right, there was once magic in the land. But, once Steve’s parents came to power, it was almost wiped out. Magic was messy and couldn’t be controlled, so any magical creatures were disposed of. The only one who escaped their fate was staring right at them, ushering them inside.

Her house isn’t anything lavish. The dirt floor is well worn, not sending it flying with every step. The shelves are lined with glass jars and herbs hung to dry. The centerpiece was the cauldron, bubbling with life. 

“What do I have the honor of doing for you today?” Her hands are tightly clasped behind her back, as she’s been instructed, so they know she’s not doing anything. 

“We were wondering if you’ve heard of any fairy godmothers?” The king scans the shelves instead of looking to her, as if she wasn’t even worth his gaze. 

“Oh no, your majesty. I haven’t seen any magic since…” she doesn’t need to finish her thought. 

“That wasn’t what I asked you, was it? Don’t make me repeat myself.” His words are stone cold and could make anyone’s knees shake.

“I only know of someone with the nickname. The baker’s daughter tells stories to the kids and they call her ‘fairy godmother in training’. She has no magic and poses no threat.” With each word, the king and queen’s bloods boil. The king bangs his fist against the wall, making it and the shelves attached shake. 

“I will decide who is a threat and who is not.” His tone is sharp as a knife, and just as threatening. Silence falls as the royals assess the situation. Their son has heard of this girl, or maybe even seen her. She’s the reason he wants to invite the kingdom to the ball, and for his outbursts. None of which followed their plan for him. Something must be done. 

“You can still shape-shift, right?” The queen asks, the deviance thick in each word.

“Why yes, your majesty.”

“Good, make sure it’s perfected by tomorrow night.” 

⋆★⋆

The village is bustling with life in the early morning, just as it always has. Just as you close the door to the bakery on the way to the market, a voice booms throughout the stalls. All eyes are on a man standing on the water fountain, the royal crest on his chest and a scroll in his hand. 

“Hear ye, hear ye! Quiet!” 

The crowd obeys, slowly shuffling closer.

“On this day, there shall be held at the palace, a royal ball. At said ball, in accordance with ancient custom, the prince shall choose a bride.”

A few women giggle, leaning in to one another to gossip.

“Furthermore, at the request of the prince, it is hereby declared that every maiden in the kingdom, be she noble or simple commoner, is invited to attend. Such is the command of your most noble king and queen.”

The world seems to stop as you process his words. Excited couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt. All you knew was that you had a chance. He was an apprentice in the castle and would most likely attend as well. 

You hoped to see Steve again soon.

#steve harrington #the last midnight au #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagin #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you

[shy-violet-soul]

Try to Remember (1)

Pairing:  OFC Rae, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel Summary:  A forgotten memory surfaces and breaks Rae’s heart.  How will the boys, with their own heartbroken history, help her heal? Warnings: Graphic descriptions of injuries/fatal injuries; grief; parent death; depression; angsty fluff Rating: Mature due to descriptions of canon-type gore Word Count: 3,700ish

A/N:  We all love the funny moments with the brothers.  But their sensitivity to someone else’s pain has always broken my heart a little, and I wanted to explore that. This is a companion piece to Life is Good (for you) & Just Desserts. You don’t have to read them to understand this story. This is my OFC Rae’s “origin” story. 

A huge, sparkly, fluffy hug to my 2 betas @pinknerdpanda and @thesassywallflower. Ladies, you get all the Sam cuddles!

This is a work of fiction based upon characters created and owned by the CW. My work is not to be copied/distributed elsewhere without my written permission.

Playlist for this part: Sign Your Name - Terence Trent D’Arby

It started out as a good day.

On their way back from a hunt in eastern Illinois, Rae had squealed with excitement when she stumbled upon a Yelp listing for an ‘80’s themed diner. Located just outside of Olathe, Kansas, they were apparently famous for their retro cuisine and milkshakes. After shamelessly begging Dean to stop, he’d grumbled about wanting to get home until she said the menu’s magic words: Sloppy Joes. So convinced, the group had detoured to the charmingly dubbed ‘Mixtape Medleys Cafe’. Hair band posters plastered on the walls, Guns n Roses and George Harrison blasted from the jukebox, and a menu loaded with nostalgic delights were a welcome break from gas station food.

 Dean was on his third Sloppy Joe sandwich, already rhapsodizing over the ‘Whatchmacalit’ candy bar milkshake he had ordered for dessert. Serious inroads made into his chicken caesar salad, even health-nut Sam had ordered something with actual, real sugar in it - a ‘Vanilla Cow Tale’ milkshake. Her plate of mini bagel pizzas stood empty as Rae laughed, waiting on her ‘Nerds’ milkshake. Another monster defeated, a nice young man saved, the three of them unscathed, and now their bellies were full and faces smiling.

It really had started out as a good day.

People talk about memories hitting them like a tsunami, or a ton of bricks. That’s not how it happened for Rae. It happened slowly. Like a glancing sprinkle of warm rain, barely noticeable. Then, another that spit into her face a bit. A pause, like the moment of calm before the unexpected thunderstorm when it was all blue skies and sunshine just a blink before.

One minute, Rae was laughing with the boys about something. Then, the distinctive drum beat tickled her ear. The reedy keyboard intro snagged her attention, and she glanced towards the jukebox across the diner. One heartbeat, two, and the unleashed memory wiped the smile from her face.

“Come on, honey, it’s our song!” her dad crooned, tugging her mom up from the couch. Rae giggled as her dad started grooving at the end of their outstretched arms, her mom rolling her eyes at his antics.

“You say that about every slow song, Alex.”

Smiling victoriously, Alex pulled her mom into his arms and began rocking side to side, winking at Rae where she sat on the floor with a book in her lap.

“But this is the one we danced to when I knew I was in love with you, Liz. So, it’s the most important.”  Pecking a kiss to her nose, Alex pulled her closer to his chest and closed his eyes. “‘Sign your name across my heart, I want you to be my baby.’”

Shaking her head, Liz smiled fondly at her husband.  “You still can’t sing, sweets.”

“‘Sign your name across my heart, I want you to be my lady!’” he yodeled out comically, drawing giggles from both girls. He tucked their entwined hands up into his shoulder and pressed a grinning kiss to her smile. Rae’s little nine year old heart warmed with happiness; her parents loved her and loved each other. She knew she’d remember their song forever.

And now, they were dead.

“...you okay?”

Rae flinched as a hand on her arm pulled her back to the present. She blinked at Sam seated next to her, then over at Dean. Shaking her head a bit to try and clear the fog, Rae drummed up a smile.

“Yeah.  So, you duct-taped the guy to a chair, and started hacking the place with an axe?” Rae tried to pay attention as Sam told the story. But the crooning rock n’ soul voice had opened Pandora’s box, and more memories came pouring in. As the brothers’ chatter filled her ears, the bittersweet warmth of the recollection skirled into something cold. Instead of the cracked vinyl seat beneath her fingers, the raw bite of rope echoed in her wrists. The scent of french fries and sugar melted into smoke and camphor.  And the images…

“Hey, there, honey bun! Here’s that milkshake for you!” The older, pink-haired waitress plunked the tall, frosted glass down in front of her with a flourish before she started teasing Dean about the saucy mess on his face. Lost in her head, Rae didn’t notice the woman collect up empty plates and promise the men their forthcoming desserts.  

Pointing out missed smudges to Dean as his brother wiped up with a napkin, Sam’s gaze moved back to Rae. For someone who had completely geeked out over a ‘Nerds’ candy milkshake, she seemed to be uninterested in the beverage now. She stared blankly at the glass, off in her own world. Dean noticed her preoccupation, too, and reached over to give the glass a little nudge.

“Hey, Rainbow, it’s melting.  Drink up!”

They watched as Rae blinked back to them from wherever she’d been, glancing back and forth between them before swallowing carefully and pushing the milkshake away from her.

“I changed my mind. You can have it.”

Dean’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I’ve got crispy-peanutty-caramel goodness headed my way. That’s all yours, make me proud.”

Without a word, Rae slid the glass towards Sam, offering it to him with a bob of her chin.  Sending her a quizzical smile, Sam urged it back to her.

“Extra pink ‘Nerds’ on top. Just like you asked. And a cherry!” he crowed, nabbing the goody by the stem and dangling it out to her.  

Normally her favorite part of a milkshake or sundae, the sight of the sweetness through the haze of her memories churned her stomach.  

The smile she offered was a sad little effort. Now Sam’s eyebrows quirked, halfway to his famed ‘puppy dog’ eyes when Rae merely shook her head before getting to her feet.

“I’m gonna run to the ladies room. Be right back.”

When she didn’t add on her usual, ‘don’t leave me again’, the brothers looked at each other.

“Okay, something’s up. What did you do?” Dean demanded.

“Yeah, I know. Wait, what? Why does it have to be me that did something? What did you do?”

The elder Winchester scoffed in denial. “I’ve been here the whole time, minding my own business with my ‘Manwich’ perfections.”

“She was fine up until the last couple of minutes. What were we talking about?”

Dean scowled as he thought. “We were talking about that time we went to the Mystery Spot and I died a lot. She was laughing about you trying to keep me from eating breakfast.”

Shaking his head, Sam frowned as he glanced towards the bathrooms. “Something’s not right.” Their waitress, Cyndi, reappeared, her sparkly-blue-shadowed eyes narrowed with concern.

“Hey, fellas, that honey bun of yours not happy with her shake?”

    Flashing her his most charming smile, Dean answered, “actually, she’s not feeling well.  If it’s not too much trouble, could we get our two shakes to go? And the check, if you don’t mind.”

Cyndi hurried to take care of things, and two styrofoam to-go cups and the guest check were delivered promptly. As Rae appeared, the men got to their feet to greet her.  

“Hey, Rainbow, you ready to blow this popsicle stand?” Dean asked.

Quiet, a little pale, Rae saw the concern they failed to hide and valiantly tried to swallow the lump in her throat and smile.

“Yeah, let’s get home.” As Robert Palmer began belting out ‘Simply Irresistible’, Dean tucked Rae into his side and sauntered them towards the Impala.  Sam tossed some bills on the table and hurried to follow.

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

Sam and Dean stole surreptitious glances to the backseat for the next thirty minutes or so. When the silence began to crawl on her skin like ants, Rae forced some life into her voice.

“How about some AC/DC?” The brothers flashed each other a look before Dean thumped Sam in the chest.

“You heard the woman!  Gimme the good stuff, bro, and keep your cake hole shut!”

Sam’s annoyed tones, Dean’s cackling mixed together with the soft clatter of the tapes rummaging together as Sam fished out the designated cassette and popped it in. ‘Back in Black’ promptly blared forth, and as Dean began drumming on the steering wheel, Rae let herself curl up and fade in the lack of attention.

It was taking everything she had to hide it from them.

Seven months, three weeks, and five days. It had been an exercise in blissful hyper-focus to count it out as Baby ate up the miles. Seven months, three weeks, and five days since they’d died. The early days had been about healing. Then, after the brothers shared the truth of their family business with her, the later weeks had been all about reeling. After countless hours of inactivity, Rae’s broken heart had craved industry. Anything to keep her from looking at memories too closely. So, she’d put that Master of Library Science degree to use and become the best damn researcher the Winchesters had ever seen. The familiar rhythms of reading and analysis comforted her while the unfamiliar topics kept her wholly engaged. Engaged meant busy. Busy meant distracted. Distracted meant forgetting.

Forgetting meant she never had to grieve.

That grief, along with all the memories, bitter and sweet both, Rae cobbled into her own personal Pandora’s box. Then, she promptly ignored it, walking her days untroubled. Until one jukebox song cracked it open.

As the Impala rumbled its way into the bunker garage, Rae blinked into the quiet when Dean cut off the engine. Exhaustion suddenly swamped her, her feet heavy as Rae dragged herself out of the car. As she strode towards the stairs, Rae tried to straighten her shoulders.

They’re watching you. Look normal. You’re fine.

They’d seen her unconscious, peeved, sassy, laughing, focused. But this Rae they’d never seen. Quiet. Not just quiet, but almost...not there. Their sharp eyes missing nothing, the brothers chatted to each other with seeming nonchalance as they followed her down into the library.

“All in all, that wasn’t a bad trip.” Dean dropped his duffel on the table, tagging after Rae into the kitchen.  

“Yeah, it was nice to have a regular milk run. I need to update the records,”Sam mumbled around a yawn.

Rolling his eyes, Dean strolled to the frig and opened it. “C’mon, man.  We scored one for the good guys. It’s Miller time.  Relax,” he urged, pulling out three beers and handing one to Rae.

She took it wordlessly, the glass cold against her fingers. The bunker’s scent of concrete, steel, old books, and gunpowder, so familiar a few days ago, now felt wrong.

It should smell like vanilla from Mom’s baking, and Dad’s Old Spice cologne. Deep voices from the brothers wavered into her thoughts distantly, and an awful lump grew in her throat. That should be Mom complaining about Dad always leaving his coffee cup on the counter, and Dad yelling from the back porch about someone hiding the grill utensils again.  Like horrid little fiends, the memories leaked out of that carefully cobbled box. They roiled in her head like awful eels. I miss the creak of Mom rocking in her chair, and Dad snoring under his newspaper on the couch. I miss them holding hands when they walked together. 

The lump in her throat grew, burning up into her eyes and blinding her. I want to hear Dad whistling while he does the dishes. I want to see Mom trying to carry all the clean laundry down the hall in one go, and cussing when she drops the socks. I want…

“I don’t know why you’re always so down on everyone except Metallica and Zeppelin.  There’s other good music out there, Dean.”

“Whatever, Fall Out Boy. Hey, there was that song at the diner. Dad hated that song, but it was kinda cool.”

“Which one?”

The older brother scratched the back of his neck as he thought. “I think the singer changed his name, but it was Tony. Timothy. Terry?”

Cocking his head to one side, Sam frowned as he thought. “You mean, Terence?”

Dean pointed at his brother. “Yeah!  Terence Trent D’Arby sang it.  How did it go? ‘Sign your name across my heart?’” he mumbled out.

The sob that tore from Rae sounded like it was ripped straight from her soul, yanking their attention to her. The beer bottle slipped from her suddenly limp hand, smashing into foamy shards on the floor. They darted towards her when she wavered, Sam wrapping his arms around her before she collapsed knees-first into the broken bottle at her feet.

“Rae! Rae, what is it?”

“Rainbow, sweetheart, what’s going on?”

Their questions garbled into her ears as if she was underwater. Months of tears torrented through her, opening up an ocean of grief that pulled her under.

The agony left her drowning.

Sam’s heart pounded in his chest as he scooped Rae into his arms when she sagged against him, plopping to the floor and holding her in his lap. Dean knelt in front of them, his own heart chugging with alarm at Rae’s continued sobs.  

“What happened?” Dean carefully brushed messy caramel-colored strands from her face. “Rainbow, talk to me!”

Distantly, Rae felt warm, rough hands on her face, strong arms surrounding her. A fleeting dart of awareness over the Winchesters’ alarm stitched through her, and she tried to speak, but her throat closed up over another choked cry. The urgent calling of her name had her desperately sucking at air as she tried again.

“What? What did you say, Rae?” Ducking his chin to try to look into her face, Sam tried to maneuver her so he and Dean could see her.

“S-saw...”

“It’s okay, Rae, just take a breath. We got you,” Dean tried to soothe her, keeping his voice gentle.

“The s-song-” The men blinked at the coughed out words. Sam’s mind spun as he tried to think.

“You mean, from the diner? The Terrence guy’s song?” Another harsh cry tore from Rae as she weakly nodded her head.

“Theirs.”  

Gently squeezing her a bit, Sam quizzed her again. “Whose song, Rae?”

“M-muh….peh-peh...parents.”

Dean felt his windpipe squeeze as he looked up to meet Sam’s gaze. He saw his own memories in his brother’s eyes - their first meeting with Rae.

Baby’s doors groaned open before the car fully stopped. The brothers sprinted up the lawn, their boots sliding a bit on the rain-slickened grass. Smoke bit acridly into their faces when Dean kicked in the front door. Maniacal laughter mocked them as they took in the scene. Blood pooled steadily beneath a woman crumpled on the floor. A lone figure tied to a chair writhed as it burned.  His horrid, awful screams clawed at them in jagged edges.

“Heil!  All heil to the Thule!” cackled the young blond man rocking side to side feverishly. Aaron Bass hadn’t known the identity of the Thule operative wreaking havoc in the northeast, just that he and the golem couldn’t get there. His plea for help had sent the Winchesters hurrying to Bennington, Vermont. As Sam pointed his gun at Christoph Nauhause, the memory of letting him walk away from them once had both guilt and rage churning in their guts. A bullet in his brain silenced the peals of unholy glee, but the man immolating in front of them continued to scream out his agony. Dean knew the man was too far gone to save; frustrated tears and smoke itched in his throat as he aimed and fired. Abruptly, mercifully, the man died as his flesh burned around him.

Sam leaped over the sofa, crouching down beside the woman. The neat slice across her throat wasn’t deep enough to kill her outright, but the rapid blood loss pouring from the wound would soon enough. As Dean tried to extinguish the flames, Sam tried to comfort the dying woman.  

“Shhh, shhh, just be still,” he whispered, grasping her shoulder to try and subdue her shaking. She didn’t so much as glance at him, her gaze fixed towards the wall. One hand tremored outward, reaching, pointing spasmodically as her breaths wheezed wetly from her. Sam followed the line of her hand, distantly hearing Dean curse behind him.  

A young woman sat tied to another chair against the wall, hidden in the shadows. Blood from numerous, carefully placed stabs and cuts showed shiny in the flickering light from the fire. Tufts of ragged curls sliced from her hair dusted her front and lap. And her eyes, swollen, bruised, shone dark with dazed horror at the scene before her.

“Sam!  Sam, the fire’s spreading, we gotta go!” Dean suddenly jostled against him, following his gaze to the girl. As one, the brothers strode urgently to her side, knives quickly slicing her free. Sirens began calling in the distance as Dean pulled at a stubborn length of nylon. “Let’s go!”

With a violent yank at the last tie, Sam scooped the limp girl into his arms, following Dean as the elder brother kicked flaming furniture to clear a path. In moments, the Impala roared away from the incoming sirens, Dean watching the emergency vehicles brake in front of the scene as he drove them away.

“Son of a bitch!” he shouted.The impotence and desperation of the failure in the rearview mirror suddenly swamping him as he pounded his hand on the steering wheel. In the backseat, Sam swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, at a loss for words in the moment. A movement from the girl caught his attention, her head lolling back as she stared vacantly out the window. The whisper, nearly lost to the rumble of the engine, broke his heart.

“Momma...Dad…”

In the next heartbeat, she’d sagged into unconsciousness. They’d taken her to their hotel room, the next twenty-four hours a whole different battle. The brothers stitched her up, bandaged her, dosed her. They took it in shifts sitting up with her. Watching. Waiting. Not just for any sign of life. No, after that painful loss, the Winchesters were ready to take on whatever reaper dared to darken their doorstep. They wanted a win - needed it. Loss after loss weighed on the brothers like Atlas’ own burden.  

Reaper, or hellhound, or whatever douchebag deity ruled the roost finally decided they were due a sliver of good luck. No one came knocking for her soul that night. They didn’t have to mourn another loss behind silence, whiskey, or work.

Slowly, over the crawling-by days, bandages and antibiotic cream were swapped out for lore books and the internet. She just seemed to fit, all at once, into a space in them they didn’t know was empty. She seized onto things with a tenacity that rivaled theirs. New resources of research opened before them with that librarian background. Dean even started grinning with pride at how she was coming along with her shooting (not that she was going to be let out of Baby on hunts anytime soon). Rae grew into that surprise space so smoothly and quickly, the brothers almost didn’t notice that she never mourned.

She was mourning now.

The pain squeezed her chest until she couldn’t breathe, her hands cold as she sank deeper into this ocean. Her body pulled at oxygen, and it fueled a sudden, awful rage within her. It geysered up out of her belly and into her head, ripping a shrill scream free.

“Why?! I wanna know why!” When her fists tightened in their shirts till the wrinkles pinched them, the boys didn’t even flinch at the sting. Sam squeezed her tighter as she screamed, eyes closed under the weight of her pain. Dean’s hands stroked her hair, a gentle answer as she thrashed in their arms.

Slowly. Slowly, the clangor caved to their quiet. She sagged spent and hiccuping in their arms.

“I don’t even know where they’re buried. I mean, it’s probably at Park Lawn. Dad’s parents are at Old Bennington, but Mom didn’t like it there. She didn’t want people tromping over her grave trying to find Robert Frost.”

 “She didn’t like Robert Frost?” Sam asked quietly.

 A sad, sorry chuckle croaked from Rae.

“She hated birch trees. Had one in our backyard that kept getting fungus. She held a grudge on the man for making the damn trees so popular.”

Dean dragged his fingers softly through her hair, squeezing her knee with his free hand.

“She held a grudge on a dead guy for a poem about a tree?”

“Yup.” Her chin quivered back another sob. “Daddy had me researching arborists to try and save it for her again.” She shrugged her shoulders, a loose, weary move as she swallowed the stickiness in her throat. “And now they’re gone. Me, too, I guess.”

Sam felt his heart pounding on the lump in his throat as he let himself hug Rae the teensiest bit closer against his chest. Let his chin rub against her hair just a breath.

“You’re not gone, Rae. I know - I know it’s hard. Just try to remember that you’re here. And we’re here.”

The message hung loud and clear in the quiet, their comfort an anchor in the torrent that still tugged at her. For whatever reason, her life had been spared. Purpose still existed for her. Friendship, camaraderie still surrounded her.

If Dean’s gaze urged his brother to voice anything softer, warmer than friendship, Sam’s bitch face shot him down as Rae tiredly rubbed her eyes.

“Hey, Rainbow. Why don’t you go take a hot shower? I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

Her eyes still dim, she tried to smile for Dean.

“My hot chocolate or Dean hot chocolate?”

Easing back on his heels, Dean took her hand as he and Sam both helped her up.

“There is nothing wrong with a shot of rum in hot chocolate. Delicious and nutritious!” he proclaimed. His words had the desired effect as a bigger smile tugged at her features.

“Can’t argue with that.”

Sheepish eyes ducked away from their gazes as Rae squeezed their hands and headed for the hall. A moment later, they heard her bedroom door shut. They stared at each other, the heaviness of the scene still playing on them.

“We’ve gotta tell her, Sam.”

“I know.”

A/N: Liked it? Read part 2 HERE.

#try to remember #sam winchester #dean winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #sam x ofc #dean x ofc #supernatural fanfiction

[diversechildliteraturereviews]

Phi, B. (2017). A different pond. North Mankato, MN: Capstone Young Readers.

Illustrated by Thi Bui.

Review # 4

A Different Pond (Phi, 2017) is the multi-award-winning fiction picturebook retelling of a young Vietnamese boy named Bao Phi’s immigration story. This story presents a wonderful example of indigenous storytelling. It is beautifully “situated in a cultural, family, and communal context that provides the backdrop to stories and to which the stories are tied” (Iseke & BMJK, 2011, p. 246). A Different Pond (Phi, 2017) is a co-construction of Bao Phi’s and Thi Bui’s experiences as Vietnamese immigrants to the United States. Author Bao Phi was born in Vietnam and raised in the Phillips neighborhood of South Minneapolis. Illustrator Thi Bui was also born in Vietnam, but she grew up in California and New York. In her brief bio beneath her picture on the dust jacket flap at the back of the text are the poignant words of, “Now all these places are a part of her.” Certainly, all of the experiences from within spaces and places encompassed by both the author and illustrator have informed their telling of this beautiful story.

In a “Note from Bao Phi,” Phi shares with readers that he “was much less appreciative of [the] experience [of fishing for food and not sport] than the little boy in the story, but now that I am a father myself, I wanted to honor the struggle of my parents. I also want to acknowledge that they sometimes told me difficult stories about the war and where we came from, including death and violence. My parents shared these stories with me, not to scare or harm me, but because these traumas were a part of our lives, and they wanted me to understand. I pass along a version of our story with those same intentions.”

Illustrator Thi Bui shares in the construction of this text a familiarity with Vietnamese culture and family. It it important to note that she is the author and illustrator of the graphic novel, The Best We Could Do (Bui, 2017) which chronicles the immigration journey of her family from their war-torn home in Vietnam to their new lives in America. In a “Note from Thi Bui,” Bui shares that “I don’t have much memorabilia to collect from my childhood. But looking around on the internet, I’ve found that there ARE others who remember the same odd details that mark an Asian American, and more specifically Vietnamese American, immigrant household. The cookie tin that might contain Danish butter cookies, or Mom’s sewing needles and thread. The free calendar from the Asian grocery store. The gối ôm , or hugging pillow, that my mom sewed for our beds. None of these things exactly represents my Vietnamese heritage; it’s more that they add up to hold something of what it was like to be me, and alive, in a specific time and place. I would have liked to put more of these objects in my illustrations, but the irony is that not having a lot of money meant not having a lot of possessions. So the empty spaces hold meaning, too.”

In thinking of what I have come to understand of storytelling from indigenous persons, alongside what the author and illustrator have shared, I enter A Different Pond (Phi, 2017) hopeful to learn more about the experience(s) of a young Vietnamese immigrant and his family in their new home of America. Though this is a work of fiction, I am aware that it provides glints of real lives and lived experiences. The story opens with Bao seated on the edge of what appears to be a family bed. Dad is already fully dressed, while his mother is still asleep in bed. It is still very early in the morning. It is dark outside, as they leave their home with a large white bucket and a tackle box. Many readers would be able to connect with this story and its characters given its sharing of a commonly practiced family experience - fishing. Some may even know that the best time to catch fish is in the early hours of the day when the sun is not yet awake. 

As the story progresses, Bao shares of his father’s storytelling. Again, this may represent another common practice in families. Oftentimes, there are elders in the family who share about family - their experiences, customs, language and culture, etc. through the telling of stories. It is interesting that Bao’s father’s stories are told to him in English. Though it seems purposeful that he does and that Bao mentions “A kid at my school said my dad’s English sounds like a thick, dirty river. But to me his English sounds like gentle rain.” Bao also points out that “Sometimes a Hmong man is at the pond. He speaks English like my dad and likes to tell funny jokes.” 

Bao’s story is representative of his life and experiences as very similar to other American boys - fishing with his dad, building a fire, sharing bologna sandwiches. Yet there are glimmers of Vietnam ever present when we see “I put some rocks in a circle and set up the twigs. “Like a volcano,” Dad reminds me,” and when his dad drifts off in thought about his brother and the war. Bao tries to picture what Vietnam looks like, “I look at the trees as we walk back to the car. I wonder what the trees look like at that other pond, in the country my dad comes from.”

The illustration showing the family seated around the dinner table to enjoy the prepared fish that Bao and his dad caught earlier, again appeals to similar American family practice and culture. A closer look at the dinner and the family provides readers with the opportunity to see the rice cooker. The fish on the table - whole fish with heads intact though we learn through the text that “Mom will fry the fish on both sides until they are crispy.” Fried fish is often more commonly enjoyed by Americans, however the fish is usually filleted, then fried, and served with tarter sauce. Bao “[brings] out the jar of fish sauce that has flecks of chili pepper and carrots floating on top.” This family gathering, despite its differences here and there, is very much like gatherings that many young American readers would be accustomed to with “brothers and sisters will tell funny stories” and “Mom will ask about their homework” and “Dad will nod and smile and eat with his eyes half closed.”

The closing of the text with Bao dreaming of fish in faraway ponds and seeing what almost looks like koi fish in a pond with lilies and lily pads seems fitting; representative of his movement between space and place. It is demonstrative of indigenous storytelling and its movement between the past and the future; “always conscious of how the present moment at once holds both past and future” (Iseke & BMJK, 2011, p. 254). It would appear as though stories of immigration always have movement - sometimes the movement is seen in physical movement, other times the movement is seen through spiritual or imagined travel. 

I have been careful and purposeful in my choosing to not highlight the representations of poverty within this story, though there are many. I chose instead to highlight the richness that exists within this story - the humanity above the difference.

[classic-rock-roller]

1. You and Nikki went to a local dessert shop. You got some ice cream and he got a hot chocolate. “They’re the best in town, I don’t care if it’s summer!” After you finish half of your ice cream, you say, “My mouth’s cold.” Nikki smirks and asks, “Want me to warm it up for you?” After a tiny gasp, you agree. Still smirking, he offers you his hot chocolate. “This is what you meant, right?” He chuckles. How do you respond?

“Not exactly no, but I’ll take it anyway.” And then I’d finish his hot chocolate on him. “Hey!” 

2. Kevin is in the shower when you get home, and he is singing embarrassingly loud. You’ve got a headache, so you shout “Quit singing! It’s lame.” Without hesitating, he shouts, “WOMAN! When I am in the shower, 2 things are free. My balls…AND MY SOUL! YOU SHALL NOT DAMPEN MY SPIRIT!” How do you respond?

“Yeah, well, your voice isn’t your soul! So sing quieter or I’ll give you something to sing-scream about!” 

3. You are particularly mad at your roommate, Robbin. He sits next to you, and to try to get him to move, you say, “I want to do bad things to you.” He smiles and says “Like what?” “Break your legs. Push you off a cliff. Choke you to death.” “Mm, Kinky.” “That’s not what I’m  saying, ass wad!” How does he respond to your angry outburst?

He’d give me a smirk and say, “Suuuurrrre, that’s not what you’re saying.”

4. You’re hanging out with Tommy and Nikki when Tommy points out how pretty the sunlight looks against the clouds. “Appreciate the little things,” he says. Nikki responds to this by hugging you. “Okay.” You’re not that short, he’s just tall. How do you respond?

“Hey, I’m not that short. I’m 5′ 6″ and a quarter. I’m taller than some of the other girls you know.” “Sure, that quarter makes such a difference.” Cue me tackling him into the grass.  

5. Kevin, Randy and you are out. You all are sitting on a bench when Kevin sighs and says to you, “I could get lost in your eyes.” Before you can respond, Randy says, somewhat snarkily, “You get lost walking in a straight line.” How do the two of you respond?

“Well, that is true. That’s why I’m his guide so he doesn’t get lost.” And I kiss Kevin. Which Causes Randy to roll his eyes and gag. 

6. You’re over at the Motley House, and Vince just got a new dog. You’re trying to get it to play with you, and you say “Come here, you’re so cute!” On cue, Nikki runs across the room and flops into your lap. “I really am, aren’t I?” How do you respond?

“Yes, you are. But I meant the dog.” “I can be a dog,” with his mischevious smirk. Which causes me to roll my eyes and push him off.  

7. Kevin works at the library you frequent. You’ve tried a couple of times to get to know him but to no avail. One day, you go to pick up a book you had on hold. Kevin hands it to you with a smile, and on your way out, you see a pink sticky note peeking out of the middle of the book. You pull it out and read it, and on the sticky note is Kevin’s phone number. What do you do?

I’d smile at it and then turn around and say, “Hey, do you have a sticky note?” I’d pull a pen out of my bag and write my phone number on it for him. Before turning around and leaving again. 

8. Nikki was doing something stupid with Tommy over the weekend, and he hurt himself so bad he needs surgery. You are the only one of the group who could get a day off the day he goes in for it. You’re right there when he wakes up, and in his slightly drug-addled condition, he confesses his undying love for you. How do you respond?

“Aww, Nikki, that’s sweet but you’re medicated at the moment.” I’d kiss his forehead, “Why don’t you get some rest and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

9. There’s a stray dog that lives in the local park, and every day at noon, you go down to feed it and play with it. One day you arrive to see Kevin playing with the dog. Irrationally, you think, That’s my dog. You go up to him to ask what he’s doing, and he says, “Oh, I come down here every day at 11 to play with Biscuit, I was just running behind today.” What happens next?

“I do the same thing, although I hadn’t thought of a name yet for him.” He’d stand up, “Well, I guess we’re his “parents”.” I’d smile at him and go, “I guess so.” “So, do you want to go get coffee or something?” “Sure, I’d like that.”

10.  Nikki’s practicing one day when you get home. You stand in the doorway of his practicing space, but he doesn’t see you. You shut your eyes and just listen. You think to yourself, I love a sexy bass line. You’re pulled out of your reverie when Nikki says, “Do you now?” You realize that thought was said out loud, but are unfazed. “Yeah, I love bass, especially when you’re the one playing.” How does he respond?

“Well, that’s nice to know. I should play it more often for you.” with that suggestive smirk of his. 

11. You and Vince are up late together. You yawn, and Vince says, “Being pretty seems tiring.” You immediately respond with, “You must be exhausted then.” How does he respond?

“Well I am, thank you.” I’d then hit him with a pillow. 

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

1) You and your roommate Stephen constantly fight in the mornings for the bathroom but you usually win. Today, however, he has gotten to the bathroom first. He’s been in there for the last hour and you bang on the door. “Come on, Pearcy! I have to get ready for work. You’re going to make me late!” He opens the door partway and sticks his head out, which is covered with a towel. “I’m sorry, but to get this,” he motions to his face, “It takes longer than just rolling out of bed and throwing on clothes.” And then he shuts the door. How do you respond?

2) You have a huge crush on your professor, Randy, while you try to pay attention you usually end up writing stuff about him in the margins of your notes. One day, you forget to copy your notes to hand in. You don’t want to hand in the ones with the margins. When he comes to collect it he asks where it is and you say you don’t have them. He looks to your desk and goes, “Aren’t those your notes?” How do you respond?

3) Everytime you and Randy are around the other boys they always aww over how cute you two are. Although Kevin takes the more annoying approach and likes to narrate everything that you do. “He leans in closer, brushing a stray hair out of her face...” He does this all the time and literally follows the two of you around. What do you do to get him to stop?

4) You and Stephen are eating dinner in your apartment when he starts choking on something and grabs his water. You get up to help him, but he waves at you telling you he’s fine. “Jeez, Stephen, don’t die on me.” After he stops coughing he looks at you and says, “Don’t tell me what to do, I’ll die whenever the hell I want!” How do you respond?

5) You get home from work one night to see Randy working at the Kitchen table. “Hey, Randy. How was your day?” you ask as you kiss his forehead and sit across from him. He stops what he’s doing and looks up at you, “You missed.” How do you respond?

6) You, Rudy, Kevin, and Randy are all sitting at the kitchen table when out of nowhere you just say “Ok challenge, describe me in three words.” Without even looking up from his book, Kevin says, “Annoying, loud, clingy.” Rudy looks you up and down and says, “About an eight.” And Randy looks at you and says, “Cuddly, sweet, perfect.” How do you respond?

7) You and Randy are sitting on the couch when you go to get a drink from the kitchen. “Hey, Can you get me a bag of chips?” he asks you. You peek your head around the doorway again, “If you ask nicely.” He gives you a cheeky grin and says, “Please bring me some crispy snacks so that I might behold your beauty.” How do you respond?                

8) While walking down the stairs, you lost your footing. Before you felt yourself hit the ground, someone caught you. You open your eyes to see Randy. “I think you just...” he gives you a smile, “fell for me.” How do you respond?

9) You left Randy home for thirty minutes as you ran to the grocery store. When you get back, you see Randy standing on the law and the firemen putting out a kitchen fire. “What the hell happened? I left you alone for thirty minutes.” Randy gives you a sheepish grin and says, “I wanted to be nice and make dinner for you but...it didn’t turn out as planned.” He then grabs your shoulders and turns you to him before saying, “You have beautiful eyes.” You glare at him, “Nice try but complimenting me won’t distract me from the fire, Randy.” How does he respond?

10) You’re running late to catch your plane and are running through the airport when you bang into someone which causes them to spill their coffee on you. You glare at him before picking up your bag and running to the gate just in time to get on. Once you’re in your seat by the window, you give a sigh of relief before the man you just ran into takes the seat next to you. “Well, hello again. I guess we’re neighbors for the next,” he looks at his watch, “11 hours. My name is Randy, by the way.” And he holds out his hand. How do you respond?

11) You are the swimming instructor for the lifeguards in training. You have three new recruits Nikki, Tommy, and Vince. You are giving the spiel about safety and at the end you add, “No, I will not give you mouth to mouth if you dive into that pool right now.” How do the three of them respond? 

@osbournebemydaddy, your move.

#tag game #tag war

[twistednuns]

March 2019

ॐ नमः शिवाय oṃ namaḥ śivāya ♥ / reading a book about the background and effects of different asanas

Friday evening with Lena: Yuzu ramen at Takumi, watching Green Book at the City Kino near Sendlinger Tor. Getting my favourite mix of sweet and salty popcorn.

Still: Obsessively reading the Rivers of London series by Ben Aaronovitch. It's like one of those nasty TV series you just can't stop watching.

Noticing more visible veins and sinews on my body. Getting stronger and leaner! Yes! I can even see a little shadow where my ribcage is supposed to begin and my tissue is getting softer which means I'm losing fat and I can feel more muscles than before. Very rewarding.

Saturday lunch with Lena and her family. I hadn't seen her brother in maybe 10 years. My highlight: warm banana bread with slightly salty, thick caramel and homemade vanilla ice-cream.

Dressing up for the Of Sailors and Whales concert at Gasteig. I felt incredibly stylish in my outfit: mustard yellow headscarf, a side braid, oblong hoop earrings in rose gold, a green dress and coat, mint-blue purse, a dark plum-coloured lipstick, black tights and satin heels.

The PhysioFlow yoga teacher (Ulf, what a comical name) complimenting me on my perfect Viravadrasana pose because apparently I did the advanced version with my arms held up high over my head. Unfortunately my poses only look so good because of my hypermobility but the other day we started talking after class. He is such a nice and calm person. And married to a lady from my hometown. I love how he touches our faces, heads and shoulders in Savasana.

Thai massage. The best treat after messing up my neck with futile headstand experiments.

The perfect batch of smoky veggies in tomato sauce. Add a hand full of couscous and tiger beans and you'll feel full for hours.

A week-long holiday. Not leaving the bed after waking up, reading for one or two hours. Enjoying the morning light, having warm breakfast. Lena sending me a picture of a bunch of purple flowers she saw on one of her walks on Monday, telling me to enjoy my vacation.

Gorgeous yoga mats - I just ordered one with a gemstone design from Mala. // EDIT: It just didn't have enough grip for me so I had to send it back. Got a simple purple one from Jade Yoga instead. They're supposed to be the best.

Fried Tom Yum seaweed strips.

A dinner and movie date with Lena, Barbara and Maike. We watched Vice (2019), the movie about Dick Cheney. Quite uncomfortable. But I loved the scene with Alfred Molina.

Spending an afternoon with Franzi at Trachtenvogl. Pear juice spritzer. Decidedly non-vegan spinach dumplings. Stopping at &otherstories as usual, getting two beautiful bowls at Motel a Miio. Finding a purple edition of H.P.Lovecraft's ghost stories on top of a trash bin.

My mum visiting for the first time since I moved in. She helped me get rid of my old clothes and other miscellaneous items from the basement. Then we got a trunk full of flowers for my balcony and had dinner at VorOrt - vegan pizza and celeriac schnitzel. I got so many presents that day. A dark purple orchid with pointy blossoms, some books and a bottle of Jo Malone perfume. She also paid for some of my plants... It kinda felt like my birthday. Maybe she had a guilty conscience because my brother still keeps raiding the fridge at home? Anyway. It's funny that I can actually talk to her now that I'm older, have my own thing going on... and we have so much in common, I notice that all the time. Or interests and taste, habits. Could be worse though, she's an amazing woman.

Swiss cat ladders.

My first time at Boulderwelt! Frank finally took me with him and we spent two hours there, climbing up the yellow (me) and white (him) routes. I even dreamed about climbing up a tree that night and I could hardly move the next day. Hardcore sore muscles, oh boy.

Hanging out with Frank. Playing Scrabble. Acting really weird around someone who just gets it or isn't put off at the very least. Making gross jokes about guacamole-producing guys over burritos in Werksviertel.

Hanging out at bridal shops with Lena, making her put on gorgeous dresses.

The fresh spring green gradient you get on your cutting board when you're chopping up leek for a potato gratin.

Staring at a long-haired guy in a club for a pretty long while on a Friday evening because he was just that gorgeous. Then he suddenly showed up on the internet a few hours later an we have been talking ever since. Exciting! And yeah, I love good coindidences. I would have never mustered up the courage to talk to him that night.

The other day we saw a cat from our classroom window, casually walking down the stairs. And we had nothing better to do than running up there in middle of our English lesson to catch her. I guess I'm a quite easily distracted teacher.

Hand embroidery on linen. It's baby bonnets, okay. But still super pretty.

This idea I had while in downward facing dog pose during one of my yoga classes. I really want to go to a yoga retreat in the summer. Either in Bali or, even more exciting, an ashram in India. I'd also visit Nepal or Bhutan while I'm there.

Aidy Bryant. She's my gorgeous heroine. I loved watching the first season of Shrill.

Alpro cherry soy yoghurt.

New earrings from &otherstories and COS. And a new hair ribbon, too. Can't help it. Building my collections.

That whole Margo-banging-Josh-situation on The Magicians? I'm into that. And when she was tripping on lizard and saw Eliot in a python trenchcoat performing the Pretenders' "Don't Get Me Wrong"? The 80s choir they formed in the desert? So amusing. Seriously, this is one of the few shows which is absolutely not afraid of weird shit and doesn't take its writing too seriously. I don't entirely get it and it doesn't have anything to do with Lev Grossman's books anymore but I'm so grateful it exists. And I'm always down for a good musical episode (see: Once More with Feeling a.k.a. the single best Buffy episode ever made).

Finding the most incredible reed green silk dress at Hallhuber one afternoon after seeing a dermatologist in the city. Unfortunately even my ribcage is too wide for its narrow cut but perhaps I can convince Lena to buy it for the summer.

New idea: should I ever get a cat I want to name it Miso.

Seeing the first butterfly (European peacock) of the year enjoying the sunshine while sitting on my pink hyacinth.

After more than 20 years I accidentally found out that one of my favourite songs from the ZDF Christmas series Anna is in fact a Queen song! I'm also pretty sure that my taste in men, my "type", was significantly affected by João Ramos who played the role of the dancer Jacob. Swoon!

Using a sheep skin as a pillow. Oddly comforting. I was reading a book about the sense of touch when I noticed this connection. I also learned that most people prefer firm hugs and massages over soft strokes. Apparently gentle touching reminds some of insect's feet but it seems to be a matter of personal preference.

The crispy greasiness of butter croissants.

Finding out about banana twins (two fruits in one peel).

Enjoying a nice, sunny Sunday. Cycling over to Westpark and playing badminton with Frank in the middle of hundreds of families having picnics. Clumsy yoga poses on a towel. A little boy telling me that his penis was more important than my face when he hit me with a football. But to be fair, I made him choose. I even went to the gym afterwards, doing my strength routine and an hour-long spine workout. I was pretty exhausted that evening and made a delicious dinner with ratatouille, soy "meat", olives and capers, whole-wheat pasta and pine nuts.

Breaking news: my body contains over 66kg of muscle mass! Am I a superhero or what? (Well, also 36% body fat, gotta work on that...)

Giving the avocado seeds a new home. I've given them a large pot now so each time I eat an avocado a new member can join the gang.

Spending most of the week with my favourite colleague, espectially on Girls'/Boys' day duty: I liked meeting at the fire brigade in the morning, getting to know a firewoman, making one of my students climb up the pole at the station. Walking over Viktualienmarkt and Gärtnerplatz, getting some fresh juice, talking all the time. We visited an old folk's home, a garden center, a vet and an architect's studio. So much better than being stuck at school until 4pm.

Pancakes with mushroom filling. Strawberries with coconut cream. Delicious.

Finally performing a Nina Hagen Song on karaoke night. And Elle King's Ex's & Oh's which made Carlos, the Spanish guy, think of old ex-girlfriend trauma.

Uhm. I read 21 books this month. Wow? To be fair, I spent most of my weekends in bed with a stack of books next to me. I'm kinda hoping to read less in April - but since I'll be in Canada for two weeks this will probably not be an issue anyway.

My breakfasts keep me healthy, I really believe that. Extremely tasty and full of good nutrients. Latest addition: strawberries and pumpkin seeds.

Spending the whole afternoon with Anika in my kitchen, making vegan macarons. I almost couldn't believe it but chickpea liquid works just as well as eggwhites! And we came up with pretty good fillings: lemon buttercream, chocolate-raspberry and banana-peanut butter. Nom. Now they're sitting in my fridge, tempting me to eat them. Sigh.

Going to the gym after a week-long hiatus. Breaking the spell, you know?

#march #2019 #march 2019 #personal #present perfect #things i love

[thehumblepescatarian]

Delicious Food With a View

The Pearson’s Arms

The Location

Before we talk about The Pearson’s Arms, let’s just go into a little bit of detail about Whitstable. Whitstable is a beautiful seaside down on the north coast of Kent and famous for its native oysters which used to be collected from the beds until the mid-20th century – celebrated at the popular Whitstable Oyster Festival. Whitstable is probably one of my all time favourite places in Kent, with a beautiful harbour, a stunning beach (with the best sunsets and sunrises), a really lovely bike bath which leads into Canterbury and many many lovely little independent shops, pubs and restaurants – it’s pretty easy to see why Whitstable is the place to be.

The Pearson’s Arms is one of those lovely pubs and it is right from the water’s edge. They serve delicious real ales, delicious food and pride themselves on having not only a great atmosphere but providing their customers with locally grown (or caught) produce. Their menus change with the seasons and with a view right over the beach – it’s one of the best pubs you can find.

The Food

There is nothing I love more than going to a pub and being blown away by the food. Pubs these days can’t get away with the standard ‘pub grub’ – people want more for their money and in recent years, pubs have upped their game. The Pearson’s Arms is a treasure, serving absolutely gorgeous food sourced or caught locally and with fantastic portion sizes.

To Start

To start with I had the Marinated Queen Olives, Crisp Aubergines in Beer Batter with Bois Boudrin and Baked Camembert with Rustic Bread. The best thing about choosing little bits of things from a menu with lots of choice is that you can share it with someone similar to a tapas.

The aubergines were delicious. Crispy and yet completely melt in the mouth and drizzled with the delicious bois boudrin  (basically tomato ketchup, Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco, shallots and snipped herbs all mixed up) really upped the flavour of the delicate aubergine.

The baked Camembert is basically everyone’s ideal cheese dish and it’s hard to get this wrong – stick some fresh rosemary and garlic in it and make sure it’s as creamy as creamy can be when cooked and jobs a goodun’ and boy oh boy does it just work with crusty bread.  Simple, delicious and packed full of flavour.

Mains

I was very excited about my choice and couldn’t wait for it to arrive, a vegan Spiced Butternut Squash & Spinach Short Crust Pastry Pie, Roasted Butternut, Glazed Baby Onions and served with a beautifully rich Squash Velouté and a side of Mashed Potatoes. For me, short crust pastry is and always will be a winner in my eyes.

It isn’t hard to make, it’s not over-rich and yet it is easily one of the best pastries of all and as crumbly as it could possibly be however, for me, I did find myself putting rather a lot of salt on to this dish as it wasn’t as seasoned as I would have liked.

Although tasty and delicate in flavour, butternut squash, roasted butternut and a squash velouté is a combination that can be a tad bland but served with glazed baby onions which bring this dish alive. If I had any criticism to make, it would be to have more of those onions that add a sharpness to the sweet and a bit more salt.

Mark’s fish pie was outstanding. The flavour of smoked haddock and huge giant prawns with a creamy mustard flavour mash sent me wild and I ended up taking his plate off him occasionally to lap up the satisfying pile of comfort food, it’s just one of the greatest comfort foods out there.

Dessert

I couldn’t be more critical when it comes to a Chocolate Fondant. For me, a chocolate fondant has to be just crisp on the outside but have an absolutely perfect, divine melting texture with a perfect liquid centre that screams ‘lick the plate’.

I have had fondants where I have been so excited to suddenly be completely disappointed and in all honesty, it’s very stressful but I mean it when I say this. This Chocolate Orange Fondant with a Marmalade Ice Cream was the best chocolate fondant I have ever, ever had. Intensely chocolatey, pretty and with a sublime centre – and the marmalade ice cream was a sensation too. I will be coming back, if only just for this pudding.

Next up – the vegan Coconut Rice Pudding  with a delicious Mango Sorbet and what a treat this was. Rice pudding is a funny one isn’t it? Who wants to have a rice pudding right after a big dinner? Not many people however this rice pudding is about to turn that on its head.

Light (yes, light), packed absolutely full to the brim of creamy coconut and served with a dollop of the freshest mango sorbet you’ve ever had – it’s basically a palette cleansing dessert and a lovely way to end a delicious dinner.

Overall 

With views to make you sigh with a smile, The Pearson’s Arms is a delightful little retreat after a nice stroll across the beach. The food is fantastic, although perhaps a bit more seasoning wouldn’t go a miss on some of the dishes, the service is warm and not overbearing and the location is brilliant. Whitstable is a tough place for parking and if you’re going to arrive on a busy Saturday afternoon, be prepared to spend a good while trying to find somewhere to park. Overall though, a lovely hideaway and one I couldn’t recommend more.

Rating

8/10

Address

Horsebridge Rd, Whitstable CT5 1BT

  If you want to eat some of Whitstable's finest grub, you MUST check out @Pearsonsarms. Loved reviewing this beauty! @whitstableKM @WhitstableHarbr #FoodReview #Food #Vegan #NewMenu Delicious Food With a View The Pearson's Arms The Location Before we talk about The Pearson's Arms, let's just go into a little bit of detail about Whitstable.

#Canterbury #Food #Food Review #Kent #lunch #Restaurant #restaurant review #The Pearson&039;s Arms #Whitstable

[sparkleandspice]

Baba Ganoush💛

I’d like to introduce you to a recent love of mine. With tens of different names and as many variations, Baba Ganoush is a mezze classic.

“Baba ganoush (Arabic: بابا غنوج‎‎ bābā ghannūj) is a Levantine dish of cooked eggplant mixed with tahina, olive oil and various seasonings. The Arabic term means "pampered papa" or "coy daddy", perhaps with reference to a member of a royal harem.” (Wikipedia)

Having spent my childhood summers in the Middle East, I was not a big fan of this dish. However, it all changed when my brother cooked this up last year and I decided to give it another go. Boy, was it like an epiphany of flavours! Since then I pestered him to make it a few more times and finally gave it my own try. Now, there isn’t a month that goes by without me making baba ganoush at least once.

After many rounds of “Not smoky enough”, “not tangy enough”, “more tahina?”, “ugh, too much garlic”, “where’s the garlic?”, I think I finally have a winning recipe on hand! This creamy, slightly tangy dip with a little spice kick, will be your new favourite. And to think it’s mostly made from eggplants, what?! 

Here’s my version of baba ganoush: 

RECIPE

2 eggplants, medium sized

1 small bulb of garlic/5-6 large cloves

1 onion, medium sized

2 tsp vegetable oil

4 tbsp tahina

4 tbsp yogurt

3 tsp lemon juice

1 tsp salt

1/4 tsp black pepper

1/2 tsp chilli flakes or paprika

3 tbsp fresh parsley, finely chopped

4 tbsp olive oil + extra for serving

Roast whole eggplants over the stove using a wire rack on a medium low flame for 30-40 minutes. The skin should be completely charred and crispy to touch when done. Another indication is when the skin breaks and the eggplants start to secrete its juices.

Once the eggplants are done roasting, wrap them up in aluminium foil or transfer into a bowl immediately and seal. This helps to intensify the smoky flavour and cool down the eggplants slowly to make peeling off the skin easier.

Next, roast whole garlic over direct flame until the skin has charred completely. Put in with the eggplants and allow to cool for 30 minutes to an hour.

Finely chop up onion and sauté in vegetable oil for 10 minutes over low heat. The onions should be slightly caramelised and soft brown in colour. 

Meanwhile, peel the garlic and chop it up finely and add it to the sautéed onions, cook for a minute, then remove off the heat.

Peel the eggplants and discard off the tops. Transfer eggplant flesh to a food processor along with all of its juices collected in the foil/bowl.

Add tahini, yogurt, olive oil and cooked onion and garlic to the eggplant and process to a fine paste.

Add in lemon juice, chopped parsley, chilli flakes/paprika, salt and black pepper to the eggplant mixture. Mix well and it’s ready!

Transfer baba ganoush to your serving dish, or an air tight container if you wish to store it. Top with a generous drizzle of olive oil before serving. Enjoy!

Notes:

You could also roast the eggplants in an oven at the highest temperature, but I find that roasting over direct flame gives more smokiness to the baba ganoush.

Pita bread, falafel, lavash, fresh veggies like cucumber, carrots, etc. make a nice accompaniment for this dip.

Some pictures from the process:

#sparkleandspicefood #baba ganoush #eggplant dip #levantine #lebanese #food52 #thefeedfeed #tastingtable #buzzfood #sorted food #food blog #recipe blog