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heroes-feasting · 2 years

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Heartlands Rose Apple and Blackberry Pie

“As the story goes, a hungry halfling returned from her hillside stroll with a heavy basket of crisp rose apples and plump blackberries. In typical indecisive halfling fashion, she couldn’t decide which to fill her pie with… so she chose both, and thus this legendary dessert was born.” - Heroes’ Feast, p. 139

As mentioned in a previous post, pie, the better version of cake, can take on many forms. With fall having wrapped up and given way to winter, it’s time to start scheduling Christmas parties and spending time with each other during the Holidays. So, why not dazzle partygoers by bringing in a slice (pun intended) of autumn with this apple and blackberry pie from Heroes’ Feast!

Although the original recipe is a little rough in construction, after some discussion for suggested changes, it holds together amazingly and makes sure that each bite, from the sweetness of the apples to the tartness of the blackberries, is worth the effort. This pie is also super great because it’s not overly sugary like most you’ll find at the store; using just enough while allowing the fruitiness of the filling to shine!

In this post, I’ll be breaking down the steps that were taken, for filling and crust, that help ensure that you end up with a stable pie instead of pie soup. In a rush? No worries, all changes are also summarized in the results section.

See below for my notes on the results and for some helpful tips and tricks when making this yourself! Get Heroes’ Feast here: https://dnd.wizards.com/heroes-feast

Prep: 15 mins* Cook: 5 hours** Overall: 5 hours 15 mins

* Can take longer if making your own crust.

** Can vary based on your experience making pie, this is the high-end estimate with plenty of leeway time. To save time on the day of, make the apples and pie crust a day ahead and store them in the fridge. If not possible, try to make the pie crust a day ahead and cook the apples while the crust chills in the fridge in the pie plate (see recipe steps).

Ingredients*:

⅔ cup + 1 tbsp. (155 g) sugar

½ tsp. (3 g) cinnamon

3 tbsp. + 2 tsp. (23 g + 5 g) cornstarch**

kosher salt

3 ½ pounds (1,575 g) [about 6] baking apples, peeled, quartered, cored, and cut lengthwise into ¼-inch slices***

Pastry for 2 double-crust pies

12 ounces (340 g) blackberries, rinsed

1 tbsp. (5 ml) fresh lemon juice

1 ½ tbsp. (21 g) unsalted butter, cut into pieces

1 egg

Lightly sweetened whipped cream for serving (optional)

* Makes one 9-inch deep-dish pie. Here’s the pie dish I use.

** Because there’s a lot of liquid in the filling, I took A Finnicky Guide’s suggestion and added a little more cornstarch. I split the extra 2 tsps. (5 g) between the apples and blackberries.

*** For pies, you need to be careful with the apples you select. When choosing your apples, especially for a liquidy pie, it’s important to consider the amount of pectin (a natural “glue”) present in the apple. For the reasons listed in the linked article, I chose Granny Smith apples instead of those listed in Heroes’ Feast.

The first change to make is with how the apple filling is prepared. Cooking the apples on the stove, instead of in the microwave, will allow the juices released from the apples to have a caramel-like consistency instead of staying super watery. I adapted the method from King Arthur.

First, in a large pot, whisk together 1⁄3 cup of the sugar, the cinnamon, 1 tbsp. + 1 tsp. cornstarch, and ¼ tsp. salt. Add the apples and gently mix to combine.

Turn the heat to medium-low and allow the apples to warm up, about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Then, allow them to cook for an additional 10 minutes, stirring occasionally (top-left picture).

You’ll know they’re done when you can bend the slices without them breaking (top-right).

TIP: To get the apples all to a uniform size, I recommend using an apple corer. Here’s the one I use.

The second change to construction is with the pie crust. In order to prevent the liquid in the pie from infusing with the uncooked dough and turning it mushy, we’re going to firm up the bottom crust by blind-baking (partially cooking) it before adding the filling. To blind-bake, I’ve condensed the method from Sally’s Baking Addiction.

On a floured work surface, roll out the pie dough into a 12-inch (~30 cm) circle. Transfer it to a deep-dish pie plate and fit it in gently by lifting the edges of the dough as you gently press it into the bottom and sides of the pie dish. Leave ~1-inch overhang around the rim and trim the extra (picture 1) ). Do not dock (prick holes in) the bottom crust yet. Set it in the fridge to chill for 30 mins. Preheat the oven to 375℉ (190℃).

Next, crinkle up a piece of parchment paper large enough to cover the pie dough. Place it in the baking dish and weigh it down using ceramic pie beads, dried lentils, or dried beans. I used pinto beans. This will allow the crust to cook without bubbling at the bottom or shrinking too much away from the edges (picture 2) ).

Place the pie plate onto a baking sheet and put it in the preheated oven to cook for 15-16 minutes. Take it out and carefully remove the parchment paper with the weights. Dock the bottom crust with a fork and return it to the preheated oven, without the weights, until the crust begins to turn a golden brown, another 7-8 minutes. Remove again from oven and set aside (picture 3) ). Preheat the oven again - this time to 425℉ (218℃).

TIP: You can reuse your blind-baked beans/lentils for future pies! So feel free to store them in their own labeled container for use at another time.

While the bottom crust chills, whisk together ⅓ cup of the sugar, the remaining cornstarch, and a pinch of salt in a medium-sized bowl.

Add the blackberries and gently toss to coat. Then, add the lemon juice and gently fold until the sugar mixture is moistened and syrupy.

Since the blackberries will release their juice as they break down, to reduce the liquid content, remove 1 tbsp. of the syrup and discard.

For attaching the top crust to the partially-baked bottom crust, I followed Food52’s method.

To assemble the pie, start by spreading the blackberry mixture evenly over the bottom crust and scatter the butter pieces overtop (picture 1) ).

Strain the apples through a colander, catching the liquid in a bowl, and spoon them on top of the blackberries. Pour half of the reserved apple syrup over the apples (picture 2) - I added the apple syrup, I just took the picture too soon rip)

On a floured work surface, roll out dough into a 12-inch (~30 cm) circle and place it over the apple mixture. To seal the edges, start by folding the top crust under the overhanging bottom crust as much as possible without breaking the bottom crust. Then, use a fork to crimp the top and bottom layers together (picture 3) ).

Beat the egg with 1 tbsp. water and brush it over the top of the pie crust - including the edges. Sprinkle the remaining 1 tbsp. sugar evenly over the top. Place the pie into the oven preheated to 425℉ (218℃) (picture 4) ).

Bake the pie at 425℉ (218℃) until the top is light golden brown, about 25 minutes. Then adjust the heat to 375℉ (190℃), rotate the baking sheet 180 degrees, and continue baking until the crust is golden brown 25 to 30 minutes.

NOTE: I found my crust turned golden brown after 25 mins at 425℉ (218℃). I still adjusted the heat to 375℉ (190℃) and let it cook for the remaining time. However, I kept an eye on it to make sure it didn’t burn (it didn’t).

Remove pie from oven and baking sheet and allow to cool to room temperature on a wire rack, about 2 hours.

From the pictures above, you can see how changing up the steps in the construction helped with the structural integrity of the pie:

Using extra cornstarch allowed both fillings to thicken more while cooking, helping to create a distinct layer for the blackberry mixture (top-right);

Using Granny Smith apples allowed for the extra pectin in the apples to thicken the liquid on the stove and keep additional juices trapped inside the slices as they baked in the oven (also keeping the apples from drying out in the oven);

Cooking the apples on the stove gave the apple syrup a more caramel-consistency instead of staying watery;

Not only did blind-baking the bottom crust keep the vast majority of the liquid inside the pie as it cooked (top-left), but having an extra-crispy bottom crust allowed any pie kept as leftovers to have a distinct bottom crust instead of it becoming soggy;

Removing a little bit of the syrup from the blackberry mixture allowed the blackberry syrup to become less soupy and thicken into its own distinct layer (top-right).

Tl;dr: to recap what improved the construction of the pie:

Use a little extra cornstarch. Not much, just an extra tsp. (3 g) per filling will do.

Choose the right apples for the job. You want to make sure the ones you choose have enough pectin to keep in most of their juices. Solution: use Granny Smith.

Cook the apples on the stovetop. Using the stovetop allows for the juices released from the apples to have a caramel consistency instead of staying watery.

Blind bake the bottom crust. To keep the liquids from infusing with the bottom crust, partially bake the bottom crust using the listed method.

Remove 1 tbsp. of liquid from the blackberries. They have plenty of liquids to start and will produce more when they start to break down.

Overall, I would give this pie a 5/5 after the modifications to construction. The sweetness from the apples and the tartness from the blackberries really work to bring this together in the best way.

As mentioned in the intro, I really appreciate the fact that there is very little sugar added. Not only does it let the filling stand out on it’s own, but it also makes the pie enjoyable to those who don’t have as much of a sweet tooth.

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incorrectlumityquotes · 3 years

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FULL REVIEWS: “Lost In Language”

Lost in language and I don't know much. Was I thinking aloud and fell out of touch? But I'm back on my feet and eager to be what you wanted.

Seriously? Nothing? You guys have never heard Air Supply? I mean, they’re old AF but still. It’s a funny pun. Whatever.

Back in the day (like it was so long ago) I didn’t know what to expect from this episode. The only thing I caught from the description was library, but hoo boy, we got so much more!

I love the cold opens to this show. It always reminds me that Luz is a silly ass hyper fangirl who still wants life to play out like it does on TV.

“Learning about love and life through the eyes of a child.”

Spoken like a true person who have never done any actual babysitting. The Bat Queen gets her own soft intro for another episode, which I’m noticing more and more re-watching this show. She pays Eda to watch her baby in exchange for a butt-ton of money. Eda, in classic Eda fashion, would rather not split the cash with Luz and gives her an errand to run so she doesn’t have to do it.

I don’t know about you guys, but liked going to the library when I was a kid. It was the only way I could play computer games or go on the internet. Getting online is the easiest thing in the world today, but when I was a kid, it was a luxury my parents couldn’t afford. And dumb-dumb kid me didn’t know that you can borrow movies and comic for free at the library too. That’s how I saw Jaws for the first time.

The library at The Boiling Isles is almost exactly what I expected. Kinda like the Hogwarts library, but with a lot more teeth and eyes everywhere. Luz has a bunch of fun just messing around, until she stumbles upon the cutest goddamn thing ever!

Amity reading to kids at the public library in her free time. My god.

I’m with Luz here. Holy hell, I did not see that coming. I thought Amity was the rival character, the Draco Malfoy of the show, the reluctant ally, the jerk with the heart of gold DEEP in there somewhere. Instead she’s at the Kid’s Corner reading her favorite childhood classic to toddlers. I didn’t know there were angels in the demon realm.

Stop. Stop! You’re already cute.

Seriously this moment made me go “aw” and laugh at the same time. It was weird. Also how does this library have a manga section? Do they import these books from JAPAN in the HUMAN REALM? Is there a publishing company that acts as the middleman? Or are these just the books that the trash slugs ended up barfing on the beach somewhere? I’m thinking too hard about a throwaway joke in the background. Big brain hurt.

AND back to reality...

Luz tries to extend the hand of friendship to Amity and Amity rejects it. I have...thoughts.

First, they this up with another parallel to Azura in the beginning of the episode. I get it. It’s a theme that they are doing, but I would have rather have Luz try to befriend Amity because she wants to, not because Azura did it. It’s not the only reason she does it, but it does kinda bug me a bit. It kinda goes back to Luz wanting life to play out like a story.

Also, a part of me thinks that this is something Amity likes to do alone. Her way of getting away from everyone else and just do something that she enjoys and makes her feel good. We have no proof that it gives her extra credit, so she could just use that as a way to save face. She seemed so happy to do it too.

Finally, you know what this else this reminds me of? The Karate Kid and Cobra Kai. There’s a popular fan theory that has been around since the eighties that if you look at The Karate Kid from the rival’s perspective, the protagonist is the bully. I’m more than sure that’s what going on here. From Amity’s perspective, Luz just gets her into trouble. We’ll get more into that later.

Luz walks off dejected and we get the second big surprise to punch me in the face.

Holy hell, why the fuck are you two so goddamn fucking pretty? I mean, holy shit, look at these two. My god. And ERICA LINDBECK as Emira? Jesus Christ, I’m going to be feeling things I shouldn’t be feeling in places I can’t say!

Joking aside, we get one of our first full introductions that didn’t come with a soft intro from a previous episode. Enter Emira and Emira, Amity’s older siblings who in true sibling fashion like to give Amity a hard time.

“Hey, mittens!”

This seems normal at first. Siblings always rib each other. No big deal.

Amity storms off. The twins introduce themselves proper to Luz (and the audience) and they mess around for a bit.

In fact, they have so much fun messing around with Luz that they decide to invite her back afterhours to check out The Wailing Star. Luz thinks that this is a great way to get on Amity’s good side by befriending her siblings. Why she would think this I have no idea.

Meanwhile the B-plot continues its adventures in babysitting. I don’t like using the word filler (so I won’t) but this B-plot is really just for two things: setting up Escape of the Palisman and jokes. It does both. No harm, no foul.

Also the twins said for Luz to meet back at midnight and Luz was at The Owl House for like a hot second. There’s like a huge gap of time there. What did she do until midnight? Whatever. If it was important it would have been animated.

Also also, I love all of Luz’s little saying in this episode. She does it a lot but they cranked it up in this episode. Featuring great hits like:

“This sour lemon drop has a hidden sweet center.”

and

“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”

and my favorite

“Call me a library book because they were checking me out.”

I hope they keep doing that.

Back at the literal Wailing Star (I laughed so hard), The twins and Luz discover that The Wailing Star brings the content of the books to life. Does that work for all books in The Boiling Isles or just the library? Enough. No more big brain. The three proceed to...mess around some more.

The twins discover offscreen (Really? Really.) that if you edit the contents of the book, you change what comes to life. Then the twins reveal their true objectives. Apparently, Amity has been tattling on the twins whenever they cut class or do whatever it is that they want. They’ve decided to look for her secret little hideaway (that they somehow know is in the library), find her diary and post all the pages all over school to teach her a lesson.

Um, fucking no.

And here we enter the true lesson of this episode and probably the reason why Hecate is draw with two faces. People being more than just what they appear to be at face value.

Amity appears to be the bully character of the show, and while she did bully Willow, Luz and King, there’s more to her than that. Amity is lonely. As a fellow person who grew up lonely, trust me. I can tell from a mile away. She puts pressure on herself to be the best at whatever she’s doing and to be the best. She hates that she follows the rules but people like her siblings seem to get rewarded for breaking the rules and doing whatever they want free of consequence. She sees the double standard that they live by and it angers her. But at the same time, everyone seems to give the twins a free pass so she can’t do anything about it.

Even worse, there’s no one for her to confide in. It wouldn’t make it better but it would make it easier for her to just vent and get the bullshit out of her brain. She doesn’t like her friends and the one friend she did like...that’s for another episode. Hence, the diary. Amity is a big ball of frustration and loneliness. I know because I grew up in a very similar way.

When you’re forced to keep your anger inside you, you lash out at any little thing that bothers you just to ease your frustrations. It doesn’t make it okay but it’s the only way to cope sometimes just to get by.

The twins on the other hand seem like everything you’d want in a friend. They’re fun; they like you; they’re attractive; they’re attentive. But in reality, they live in a world where they believe consequences and accountability don’t apply to them. And they’ll do anything to keep it that way. Even humiliate their sister.

Luz seems like a happy-go-lucky, friends to all things kinda person, but she can also be innocently insensitive. She just does things hoping they turn out the way they would for Azura without considering how the people around her would feel about it.

It doesn’t make any of these characters two-faced. We just are different things to different people.

Amity discovers what’s going down and Luz (being the empathic person that she is) decide to try to go talk to her.

Then I’m reminded that this is a horror-comedy.

My god, you’re ugly.

One climax later (don’t laugh), and Luz and Amity try to make amends with each other. They both have to think about how they’ve been treating the other, earning the title of bully or not. They’re not friends yet but this is...better.

FINAL SCORE: 5 - Loved it.

Damn, The Owl House is one a roll. That’s what? Three 5 scored episodes already? Hot damn. This episode was fun but it really hit hard with the character work on Amity. She quickly became one of the most interesting characters and a fan favorite. And the third act provided a good amount of horror to call this a horror comedy. The B-plot is fine but probably one of the weakest only saved by several funny jokes. This is one of those episodes I kept coming back to and a favorite to watch.

Could you two please not? I’m gonna get in trouble.

#the owl house #my works #full review #full reviews

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lady-merian · 3 years

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Amber, Crow, Cozy, Fresh Air, Frost, Novel, Oven, Tasty, Tea, and Zeal, please!

Amber - what's something you do every day?

Drink coffee and laugh

Crow - what's an unpopular opinion you have on autumn?

I truly dislike Halloween. I love the idea of dressing up and candy, but I loathe all the witches, ouija boards, vampires, mummies, creepy dolls, fake blood, gore, etc. that come with the package. I don’t mind the skeletons so much. In fact I find them… humerus…

People at work look at me like I’m crazy—when they’re not either laughing or rolling their eyes at my puns.

Cozy - describe your ideal fall day.

Brightly colored leaves, striking against a blue, blue sky. Crisp and clear during the morning and afternoon, but in my truly ideal day we don’t have to leave the house and so I want to hear some rain later on. It’d be cool enough for the oven to be on, and since my sisters love to bake maybe we’d have cherry crisp, and tea as we sit down to write. There is an abundance of laughter.

Fresh Air - what's something you're thankful right now?

As of writing this, I have two days off and I actually get to stay home and do things.

Also thankful that I’m not regretting the dramatic haircut I gave myself last week. (Goodbye Eowyn-length waves, hello manageable mane that’s not a major pain to wash!)

Frost- anything you're looking forward to?

Inklingtober. I’m going to go crazy and attempt it. But whether I finish well or not I’m going to enjoy seeing what others do!

Novel - favorite book?

Narnia. If I can’t cheat and put all seven books in one, (and I never read the all-in-one copy that we have,) then it’s The Horse and his Boy. I’ve tried to put into words why, but I never can. It’s just fantastic.

Oven - what's your favorite holiday thing to bake?

I’m not as much of a baker as my sisters are. I don’t dislike it, but they LOVE it. So most of my own baking is single serve desserts that don’t have dairy in them (for those occasions when they’re craving something that has, say, cream cheese in it)

That being said, I’ve made many variations on this one chocolate chip cookie recipe. Going chipless and using maple in place of vanilla… or going chipless, not using brown sugar, and adding lemon… but something that’s especially good around Christmas is turning them into double chocolate chip cookies with mint.

Tasty - do you have a comfort food?

Slow cooked chicken with carrots, potatoes, onions, garlic, and celery.

Alternatively, anything with pasta.

Tea - what's something that soothes you?

Usually music will do it. Or hot tea and a good book. If those don’t help I must be really stressed, which is when I turn to Psalms.

Zeal - what is something you go all out for?

I love Christmas but I’m very low key about the decorating and wrapping so I don’t know that I’d say I go all out. Still, that’s the closest thing. thanks for asking!

#Autumn asks #ValiantArcher #About me #ETA the link to the cookie recipe I started with #Have fun. I found they can also be microwaved for more instant Cookie but it might take some experimenting.#Start with less time than you think you need because burnt cookie smells like Regret

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myhauntedsalem · 3 years

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13 of the Most Disturbing Last Words from Death Row Prisoners

Before execution, it is usually customary for condemned criminals to take the stage one last time and address the public with his or her final words. Whether it is a chilling statement aimed at shocking or upsetting those in attendance, a light-hearted statement that attempts get few chuckles or a final slap in the face of society, criminals throughout the years have had some pretty interesting things to say in the minutes prior to taking their final breath.

Here are the last words of 13 death row prisoners and the disturbing messages they chose to leave the world.

John Wayne Gacy

Last words: “Kiss my ass.”

John Wayne Gacy was convicted of the rape and murder of 33 men between 1972 and his arrest in 1978. The former children’s party entertainer became known as the “Killer Clown” because of the all the parties he attended in his clown suit and full-face makeup.

Gacy was executed by lethal injection just after midnight on May 10, 1994. When asked if he had any last words, Gacy is said to have snarled these three simple words.

Aileen Wuornos

Last words: “I’d just like to say I’m sailing with the rock, and I’ll be back like Independence Day, with Jesus June 6. Like the movie, big mother ship and all, I’ll be back.”

Aileen Wuornos, abandoned by her parents at a young age was working as a prostitute and robbing people to support herself by the time she became a teenager. In 1989 and 1990, Wuornos shot, killed and robbed at least six men. Arrested and tried in 1991 she received a total of six death sentences, earning her the inaccurate label by the press of being the first female American serial killer.

George Appel

Last words: “Well, gentlemen, you are about to see a baked Appel.”

Clearly keeping his sense of humor right until the last moment, this pun was to be the final words of convicted murderer George Appel before he was executed in the electric chair in New York in 1928 for the murder of a New York City police officer.

Peter Kürten

Last words: “Tell me. After my head has been chopped off, will I still be able to hear, at least for a moment, the sound of my own blood gushing from the stump of my neck? That would be a pleasure to end all pleasures.”

Peter Kürten, or more commonly known as the “The Vampire of Dusseldorf,” is believed to have killed nearly 60 people in Germany. He beat, raped, and drank the blood of at least one of his victims. Kürten was executed by guillotine on July 2, 1931.

John Spenkelink

Last words: “Capital punishment: them without the capital get the punishment.”

John Spenkelink was a drifter convicted of killing a traveling companion which he claimed was done in self-defense. Incidentally, he was also the first man put to be put to death in Florida after the U.S. Supreme Court reinstated capital punishment in 1976.

Barbara “Bloody Babs” Graham

Last words: “Good people are always so sure they’re right.”

Barbara “Bloody Babs” Graham was a prostitute, drug addict and a murderess who was executed in the gas chamber at San Quentin in 1955 along with two accomplices. Graham beat an elderly woman to death when a robbery went bad. When she was strapped into the gas chamber by Joe Feretti, the man in charge of her execution, he told her, “Now take a deep breath and it won’t bother you” to which she responded, “How would you know?”

Gary Gilmore

Last words: “Let’s do it!”

Convicted of killing a motel manager, Gary Gilmore’s was put to death in Utah on January 17, 1977, by a volunteer firing squad. He became the first person to be executed after the U.S. reinstated the death penalty in 1976, ending a 10-year lapse. Gilmore donated his organs and shortly after he was executed, two people received his corneas.

Notably, Gilmore gained further fame posthumously when advertising executive Dan Wieden credited Gilmore’s parting words as the inspiration for Nike’s tagline.

Carl Panzram

Last words: “In my lifetime I have murdered 21 human beings, I have committed thousands of burglaries, robberies, larcenies, arsons and last but not least I have committed sodomy on more than 1,000 male human beings. For all these things, I am not in the least bit sorry.”

Carl Panzram was a serial killer, rapist, arsonist, and burglar who was hanged on September 5, 1930. Without ever showing any sign of remorse for his crimes, he refused to appeal his sentence, he even threatening to kill members of human rights groups who attempted to appeal on his behalf.

Defiant until the end, Panzram went on to tell his own executioner, “Hurry it up you Hoosier bastard! I could hang a dozen men while you’re screwing around.”

Timothy McVeigh

Last words: “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.”

Timothy McVeigh is best known as the Oklahoma City bomber and was convicted of setting the bomb which killed 149 adults and 19 children at the federal building in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma on April 19, 1995. McVeigh had no final words before being executed by lethal injection on June 11, 2001, in Indiana. Although he did leave a handwritten statement quoting the last lines of the poem called Invictus by Sir William Ernest Henley.

James French

Last words: “How’s this for a headline? ‘French Fries.’”

James French was the last person to be executed by electric chair under Oklahoma’s death penalty on August 10, 1966. Already in prison for life, but allegedly afraid to commit suicide, French murdered his cellmate, apparently to compel the state to execute him.

Thomas J. Grasso

Last words: “I did not get my spaghettiOs, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this.”

Thomas J. Grasso was executed by lethal injection in Oklahoma for strangling an 87 year-old woman to death on Christmas Eve with her own Christmas lights, while stealing a television and $12. In the US, prisoners on death row are traditionally allowed anything they would like to eat for their last meal before they are executed. Grasso took this right very seriously. His last meal request was for two dozen steamed mussels, two dozen steamed clams (flavoured by a wedge of lemon), a double cheeseburger from Burger King, a half-dozen barbecued spare ribs, two strawberry milkshakes, one-half of a pumpkin pie with whipped cream, diced strawberries, and a 16-ounce can of SpaghettiOs with meatballs, served at room temperature.

Unfortunately for him, the length or complexity of his list seemed to confuse kitchen staff who made one crucial mistake and served him spaghetti instead of his SpaghettiOs.

Robert Alton Harris

Last words: “You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everyone dances with the grim reaper.”

Robert Alton Harris was responsible for the murder of two teenage boys. In 1992, he was the first person to be executed in the state of California in decades. His last words were a misquote from the film Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey.

Tom “Black Jack” Ketchum

Last words: “I’ll be in hell before you start breakfast, boys. Let her rip!”

Tom “Black Jack” Ketchum, the infamous outlaw was finally caught after a failed train robbery. Sentenced to hang, Ketchum’s uttered these now famous words before his execution was horribly botched, and the noose cut his head clean off his body.

#13 of the Most Disturbing Last Words from Death Row Prisoners #serial killers #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits

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fictionfromafar · 3 years

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The Transparency Of Time by Leonardo Padura 🇨🇺

The Transparency Of Time

Leonardo Padura

Translated by Anna Kushner

Bitter Lemon Press

Publication Date: 10 June 2021

#RandomTTours

A new Leonardo Padura novel is never a small matter. Recognised as Cuba’s finest living author by The Washington Post, Padura is one of the most highly regarded contemporary novels in Latin America. Unlike many other Cuban writers, Padura continues to live in Cuba. He has written historic novels on Ernest Hemmingway and Leon Trotsky yet he is perhaps best known for his seminal Havana Quartet featuring Lieutenant Mario Conde. These were brought to the attention of English language readers in the mid noughties by Bitter Lemon Press. Televised by Spanish television as Four Seasons In Havana these are available to watch on Netflix.

Despite releasing Conde from active police service, Padura has been keen to return at times to return to his most celebrated character, this is the ninth Conde novel. In Havana Fever we saw Conde visiting the older homes of Havana for book collections which he could then sell for profit. While this would provide him with sustenance, on principle he would refuse to sell Cuban literature to international buyers as he believed the country’s treasures should always remain on the island.

Central to all Padura’s novel is of course Cuba and through his words, as readers we learn how his city has transformed over the years. Set in Autumn 2014 a month before Conde’s sixtieth birthday, neither Conde or Havana are in particularly good shape: “Mario Conde knew perfectly well that being old – even being old without being an old fart – is a horrifying condition due to all it entails, but especially because it carries with it an incontrovertible threat; the statistical and physiological approach of death… just one, one quarter of life left.”

Furthermore, he is struggling financially as he is finding fewer books even with the help of his dealing friend Yoyi. However his luck appears to change when the latter puts him back in contact with Bobby Roque, who was a fellow pupil of Conde’s school many years before. Roque, who used to be a staunch Marxist is now a flamboyant Santeria practitioner and homosexual, needs Conde to investigate the disappearance of his younger lover Dubois who vanished taking many of Roque’s valuables including his treasured statue of the Virgen de Regla – a black Madonna. This is particularly precious as Roque believes it has healing powers.

Conde takes on the case as it is financially beneficial to him and starts by speaking to his former Sergeant Manola to obtain details on Dubois. When the information received is not as expected, Conde delves into a far larger investigation where two men lose their lives.

Leonardo Padura’s novels have a fantastic sense of setting and we can feel Conde’s love hate relationship with the city where he lives: “Every time he wandered the streets of central Havana, increasingly run down by poverty and neglect, Conde was determined to find, beneath the layers of dirt, age and precariousness of all kinds the possibility that any of its charms had survived.” For Conde’s generation life has become very difficult, almost depressive - a contemporary of his points out that “you have good days and then you have days that are worse.”

This hardship is maybe the reason that Conde is then happy to spend some of his earnings on a meal and drinks for his friends that would equate to an average Cuban’s weekly earnings. Conde and his friends Rabbit and Candito take a trip to what he terms “the world of the invisible” – these are the shanty town ‘settlements’ where many people from the east of the island move in search of work. They are horrified by the conditions there – “like Haiti, or Africa or Hell. Aside from one priest’s mention of the “speeches and promises” there is no mention of the causes of this depravation - no criticism of the Cuban Government nor the punative US sanctions

The cliché goes that for each person who leaves Havana for the west, another would replace them from the east. Conde has lived in a country which he felt had reduced its misery through concerted will and effort, yet increasingly it seems that the majority live in misery except for those who have benefited from ill-gotten gains. A reoccurring theme is Conde trying to find anyone who actually has a reputable job. There is though still charm to stories such as the man with no shoes.

The book is broadly split between Conde’s investigation, Padura’s examinations of Cuba’s changing society and then separate to these we follow the timeless Antoni Barral during the Spanish civil war and later in the book the blockade of Acre during the crusades. Bear with these parts as they do tie into the book. Providing some vital historical context, they show Padura's willingness to stretch his imagination and those of his readers.

The translation is both lucid and fluid. The translator is Anna Kushner, the daughter of Cuban exiles, who had also translated Padura’s The Man Who Loved Dogs and Heretics; Guillermo Rosales’s The Halfway House and Leapfrog; and Norberto Fuentes’s The Autobiography of Fidel Castro.

Drawn in to work with his former police colleagues Conde finds their generation’s outlook very different to his. We also see him sense déjà vu and sentimentally look back on some previous investigations through the story, but no prior back knowledge of Conde’s earlier novels are required to enjoy The Transparency Of Time. The investigation takes Conde to very different parts of the cities with a large number of potential suspects. His skill and experience are key to solving the mystery behind the Virgen de Regla and its whereabouts. He is also left to conclude that there are actually two invisible cities within Havana.

There are few novelists who can absorb you into both a crime fiction novel and the feel of a city as Leonardo Padura can do. Whether you are new to the series or a seasoned reader, there is plenty to enjoy about The Transparency Of Time even though it does leave you with a melancholic sentiment for his homeland. Many thanks to Alex Hippisley-Cox at Bitter Lemon Press for a free advance review copy of The Transparency Of Time and to Anne Cater at Random Things Tours for inclusion in the blog tour. Please check out these other reviews.

I am running a book give away to win The Transparency Of Time and Into The Mouth Of A Lion via Twitter

#cubanlife #Cuba Crime Fiction #crime fiction #crimeintranslation #latinamericancrimefiction

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: Not What It’s Cracked Up To Be ch.3 (baon)

Summary: Edge and Stretch are finally getting back on an even keel. Edge’s broken leg is healing well, Spring is finally here and the flowers are close to blooming.

Be a shame if anything disturbed their domestic bliss.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Fluff, Chickens, Possible Character Death

Notes: Okay, before you read this, I'd like to remind everyone that this is By Any Other Name, and no matter what angst happens, there will always be happy endings.So, keep telling yourself, happy endings are coming, happy endings are coming, and you'll be fine! Things are not always what they seem!

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Though they’d only been married a year, he and Stretch had been together long enough that Edge knew many of his quirks. He knew that Stretch could nap anywhere and everywhere and often did. He knew that one of his favorite treats was lemon bars and he wasn’t fussy about where they came from. He knew that Stretch could be scatterbrained and also single-mindedly focused, sometimes in the very same moment. And he knew that the correct reply from Stretch to the question of what was wrong was never ‘nothing’.

A pun, certainly, a joke, perhaps, even on rare occasions honesty. 'Nothing' was a charade, a lie, offered flippantly to disguise the truth.

More to the point, Edge knew that there was no point in pressing for a better answer. That would only make Stretch double down and he’d be even less likely to admit to what was bothering him. It was a difficult lesson and one he’d learned from his own brother, long before they’d ever left Underfell. Demanding answers achieved nothing and all he could do was wait.

And so, when Stretch stood to head inside for his nap, Edge returned the kiss he leaned down to offer and let him go. Kept his sighs and his worries to himself as he struggled up to his feet, grimacing at the renewed ache in his tibia.

For now, the plan was to take a quick shower before he put his leg up and iced it to keep the cartilage from swelling. There was no question that the doctor’s orders of a limit of two hours standing was accurate; he hadn’t even been standing the entire time, but moving from garden plot to garden plot seemed to be enough exercise for the day. After some rest, the only plan he had left was to make dinner.

Slow and steady seemed to be the theme for the day. For his leg, for Stretch.

Edge gathered up the dirty plates and tried not to think about the travesties that had been visited upon them as he shooed the chickens back into the coop. If Stretch still wasn’t inclined to talk this evening, perhaps tomorrow he’d message Jeff and ask if he’d noticed anything off about Stretch while they were talking. With everything happening lately, it wouldn’t be a surprise if Stretch were heading towards a major depressive episode; in fact, Edge would admit that it must be a sign that his medication and therapy were working for him that he hadn’t had one already.

His shower was brief, but blissful and Edge basked in the spray of hot water until his leg began a new set of throbbing warnings. Then he went back downstairs, propping it into the pile of pillows that were becoming a fixture in their living room, along with the ice packs.

It was strange, now, to think that if someone with no one to care for them took an injury like this in Underfell, it would most likely be a death sentence. Even with Sans—Red to care for him, Edge likely would have been on his feet far sooner than would be considered wise, walking his disability to permanence. There were no clean, friendly hospitals, no doctors with their years of experience and training, as Stretch liked to say. No special splints or even casts. The only thing driving him to walking too soon in this world was his own impatience. He needed to be on his feet, yes, but he needed to be able to stay on his feet, not sabotage his own healing driving himself too hard.

Intellectually, he knew that, but knowing didn’t have much effect on the gnawing exasperation in his soul, urging him to get back to work, to protect his people from the threats he knew were still out there.

Soon, he told himself. In two days’ time he’d be back working fulltime at the Embassy and wasn’t he looking forward to rolling through the hallways on the mobility scooter the doctor was sending to him. Perhaps that sight would help cheer Stretch. Two days wasn’t very long to figure out what was bothering his husband, especially considering all that had happened, but Edge was nothing if not dedicated to Stretch’s happiness.

That task only seemed more monumental when Stretch came downstairs. He only stayed upstairs for perhaps an hour and did not seem rested when he came back down, shadows darkened beneath his sockets. He was quiet for most of the night, except for infrequent bursts of chatter, all of it puns and teasing, his smile a touch too wide, his cheer bordering on desperate. Trying too hard, Edge knew, and his soul ached.

That night, Edge went to bed early and Stretch didn’t question his excuse that he was tired after such an eventful day. The claim was doubly useful in that Stretch didn’t attempt anything seductive once they were in bed together. Knowing him, he’d try to instigate sex to prove to himself that he was fine, and even if it was pleasurable, that did not sit well with Edge. He preferred their lovemaking with wholehearted enthusiasm and affection, not as an attempt to prove a point.

Instead, Stretch curled up in his arms, resting his skull over Edge’s breastbone, petting his scarred ribs softly, almost absently.

He wondered if Stretch wished he could see his soul, feel its warmth, the undeniable aura of his love. Stretch didn’t ask, he’d never asked, and Edge could only swallow away the thickness of guilt settling sourly in his mouth that even now he couldn’t bring himself to offer.

Instead, he gently stroked Stretch’s skull, tracing his coronal sutures, his zygomatic arch. Trailed gloved fingertips down to linger over the intricacies of his spine until he fell asleep and perhaps Edge’s obfuscation wasn’t complete untrue, because he drifted off not long after Stretch.

It was hours later that he woke, jerking awake as Stretch lurched out of his arms and the bed to scramble over to the window. Edge was already lunging out of bed himself, disoriented and sleep bleary but his magic flaring as he looked for their attackers. There were none, they were alone in their darkened bedroom with the whirr of the running fan.

“What—” Edge began, only for Stretch to disappear into a shortcut. He cursed viciously and ran for the stairs, grimacing as his leg protested, but he could already hear shouts from outside, alongside shrill, panicked shrieks. He limped awkwardly down, trying not to fall down the damn things and briefly grateful he’d been instructed to wear the splint night and day.

He tore open the sliding glass door to see the night alive with magic attacks blooming in orange and blue. For a jarring moment it was like being back in Underfell and he held back in the doorway, scanning the area for assailants, strategy boiling up in his thoughts.

The attacks faded before Edge could even determine what the hell was going on. The yard was empty, the only sound came from the coop and the panicked gabbling of chickens, and Stretch was on his knees in the middle of the yard, utterly bare, his pale bones almost glowing in the moonlight and his shoulders shaking.

Edge went to him, scanning around for anyone, anything, but there was nothing, only leftover attacks formed into magical bones shivering away to nothingness. He knelt awkwardly next to Stretch even as he stripped away his gloves, cautious hands skimming over him, searching for injury as he automatically ran a Check. But his tentative fingers didn’t find so much as a scrape and Stretch's HP was standing steady at five even as he started shivering in the chilly night air.

Edge stripped off his pajama shirt and hung it over Stretch’s shoulders, it was thin but better than nakedness. “What happened?” he demanded in a furious whisper, “who was here?”

“i think it was a fox, maybe,” Stretch whispered. It was not the response Edge expected and he reared back, taking in the tears that were filling Stretch’s sockets, glowing pale orange through the night. “i think it…it…”

He lifted his hands and clutched in his fist was a single glossy black feather.

Fuck.

“Stay here,” Edge told him, low. He struggled to his feet and went to investigate the coop.

Noodle and Dumpling were still screeching their upset and the moment the door swung open, they crowded around him, seeking protection or comfort or both. He crouched down and carefully petted them both, soothing them until they settled somewhat. There was no sign of Nugget, nor any remains. He forced himself to think it, did not allow himself the luxury of hope. Grief would have to wait.

There was no evidence in the chicken run, no feathers nor paw prints. He walked the fence line and there he found it. The soil around the coop was soft, muddied by the spring thaw, and there was a hole dug beneath the fence. That was where it must have gotten in and once it was inside the chicken run, it could easily access the coop through the same door the chickens used. The hungry bastard came in the night and—

Edge brutally shook that thought away and went back to the coop, locking both entrances. Then he went back out to Stretch, easing down to sit next to him and pulled him into his arms. Softly, he asked, “How did you know?”

Stretch leaned against him weakly, swallowed hard, “i don’t know. i just—woke up and felt the intent.”

Of course he did, Stretch was always better at sensing Intent, the same as Red and Sans. He came down here, alone, with no idea what he would find because he felt killing Intent? Edge ground his teeth. This was not the time for it, but that was going to be discussed later. Right now, Stretch was struggling to choke back tears, quivering in his arms. Edge pulled him closer, resting his cheek bone on top of Stretch’s skull. “Love, I’m so sorry.”

The words seemed to be the last brick laid upon a breaking dam. Stretch let out a wail, clinging to Edge as he wept, bright tears dripped on his bare rib cage. Edge only held him, rocking gently, his own grief rising up hot and thick in his soul. He never would have believed when he first brought the chickens home for Stretch that he could possibly become so attached to a creature that he was far more accustomed to seeing as dinner. But they’d become such loving pets, loyal and often hilarious, and sweet little Nugget with her antics, her precociousness that often reminded Edge so much of Stretch himself, was gone.

In his arms Stretch was shaking, and it wasn’t entirely from his sorrow; the night air was cold, and even Edge was starting to shiver.

“Come on,” Edge shifted carefully, lifting Stretch into his arms, only staggering for a second before catching his balance. Stretch made a noise of surprise that broke through the tears, both arms winding around Edge’s shoulders to clutch at him.

“you shouldn’t,” Stretch husked out, hardly more than a feeble protest.

Edge pressed a soft kiss to his skull. “I’m fine.”

His leg was only barely twinging with protest and Stretch was light. Easy to carry inside and upstairs to the bathroom, where Edge set him down to sit on the lid of the commode. He turned on the shower, letting it run as hot as he could stand, stripping away his own pajama pants and the leg splint before helping Stretch beneath the spray of water.

Stretch stood facing the spray, the water pouring down on him as Edge soaped him gently, running the shower poof over his slender, pristine bones until suds were running thickly down, clouds of bubbly white against the ivory of his ribs and pelvis.

He was still soap-slippery when he turned in Edge’s arms, Stretch kissing him with desperate urgency that Edge returned, his sweetness diluted with the running water. If he wanted sex as a distraction, this time Edge was more than willing to grant it. The last thing his love needed was more sorrow in a time where he’d already been suffering so much and if he wanted to lose himself in pleasure tonight, Edge would join him.

Tomorrow would be coming all too soon, and Edge was sure the cold morning light would bring far too much remembrance and grief. For now, Edge let slick hands move over him, his own moving in return, giving whatever comfort he could offer, in any way his love needed it.

tbc

Notes:

Now, remember the notes at the beginning of the chapter! BAON = happy endings, even if we have to wade through the angst to get there!

Read Chapter 4

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Lemon's Misadventures in Dating, Chapter 3 (Lemon x Everyone) - Mermelada

A/N Hi everyone, I’ve been sitting on this chapter for a wee while but couldn’t quite get it right, so I hope this will do! Lots of love to you all!

As soon as Lemon had arrived home after her date with Kyne – at 9 o’clock the following morning – she flopped onto her bed and checked her phone. She opened the app to be greeted with a number of new messages.

[08:48] Hope you got home safe baby, please try not to fall in love with me now xx

The first one she read, from Kyne, made her chuckle, she’d actually had a really, REALLY good time last night. It turned out that there was actually a very easy way to get the girl to stop talking. Kyne had every reason to be cocky, and Lemon hadn’t been made to feel so good for a very long time. She had even managed to go a couple of hours without thinking of her. Speaking of her, they still hadn’t matched, which was definitely for the best, as Lemon didn’t think she could stand the inescapable mutual awkwardness if they did. But then did that mean that Juice had swiped left on her? Deciding to stop the mental tennis before it got out of hand, she pulled up the bottom message on her list, from yesterday.

[16:04] Bonjour hi, Miss Lemon! Tu parles français? Or am I needing to practice my English? :-)

Rita. From her profile, she looked every bit the no-shit-taking dom top with a major mommy’s little girl kink, but her message was kind of sweet. The fact she had even bothered to check what language Lemon spoke was cute, she supposed, but she crossed her fingers that Rita had an edge and wasn’t all politeness and niceties. Now that Lemon had had her first taste of Tinder hook-ups, she was ready to dive in with no fear. Well maybe just a tiny bit of fear. She quickly typed out a reply, partly assisted by the internet, and sent it off.

[09:09] I’m assuming you don’t count ‘voulez-vous coucher avec moi’ as proper French 😉

Is it completely cliché and unoriginal? Yes. Has Rita probably already received hundreds of messages saying the same thing? Yes. But I’m tired and still feeling fucked out, so it’ll do. If she likes me, she’ll bite. Hopefully for real, soon…

Following on, she finally had a reply from Kiara.

[19:20] Hi girlie! I am SO sorry for replying so late, I have been working all day and all night this week ☹️ but seeing your profile made me feel better 🙂 how are you??

Double-checking quickly in case she’d missed something important, she realised that the girl’s profile didn’t say what she did as a job, so that seemed like a good place to start.

[09:13] Don’t worry at all, hon! But I’m glad I can help 😉 I’m doing okay thanks, and u? What do you do for work? x

Is a kiss on the end too forward or too friendly, she pondered, trying to remember if she’d done the same for Rita and Kyne before her. It’s done now, I’ll soon find out, I guess!

[23:56] You’re named after the wrong fruit, because you’re definitely a fineapple

The third message was from Boa, who she must have matched with during the night. She loved it. She wanted it on a cross-stitch, framed above her bed. She’d definitely made the right choice with this girl. Now, how to match her at her own game…

[09:15] You udderly impressed me with that one!

As soon as it had sent, Lemon was hit with a massive wave of self-doubt: what if Boa didn’t get the pun and just thought she was weird? She’d always thought she was quite funny, but what if that was all a lie? There was still time to rectify it.

[09:15] Because of the cow costume, get it?

[09:15] It’s so cute!!!

[09:16] You seem really fun 😀

[09:16] And it helps that your hot

[09:16] You’re^

Shit shit shitting shit, that is way overboard for a reply. What the fuck have I done? Oh dear lord, well Boa, it was nice knowing ya! I don’t blame you for blocking me and running to the hills!

Some more general swiping ensued as Lemon awaited some replies, she started aimlessly swiping again through the single ladies of Ontario.

Scarlett, 29

Within 10 miles

Hmm, she looks like she has a bit of filler in those lips but she still looks hot, I like her tattoos, and HOLY SHIT SHE’S EATING FIRE fuck yeah, okay Scarlett! I’ll take that!

Ilona, 25

Within 10 miles

Okay I love her make-up, I love her style… all her photos are selfies, does that mean she has no friends? Don’t be silly, Lem, my camera roll is full of selfies and I’m just fine. I think. Hey, Ilona!

Starzy, 38

Within 10 miles

Oh wow, she’s hot. Her bio literally says, “Call me mother”. That has to be the hottest thing I have ever read, yes please!

After a few more likes and dislikes, Kiara’s name lit up at the top of her screen. Not wanting to seem too keen, she waited a monumental thirty seconds before checking the message.

[09:22] I work on a movie set, but nothing glamorous, I help with hair and makeup. It pays my rent 🙂 I am pretty tired today but I have a deadline soon so I have to keep writing ☹️ where do you work? x

Just as she was thinking of the best way to word her current, work-less situation, a reply also came in from Rita, which Lemon accidentally clicked on sooner than she meant to, completely blowing her cool façade.

[09:25] I’ve never heard that one before…

Lemon’s heart sank at the thought of her impending rejection, but a new message arrived seconds later.

[09:25] At least look up how to say it less formally, I’m not that old!!!!

Smiling at the thought of Rita not automatically hating her – not outright rejecting her – Lemon started to type a reply, but stopped when a third message appeared.

[09:26] Mais si je dis oui, es-tu vraiment libre ce soir? ;-)

Somehow, the more Lemon stared at the words, the less sense they made. She now severely regretted passing her time in French class admiring Madame Benet’s assortment of leopard-print clothing, rather than actually learning. But there was a winky face at the end, which made her heart race, even without understanding the rest of it. Highlighting the text and taking it straight to Google, she couldn’t help but bite her lip as she got Rita’s point.

[09:30] Wee wee, madame 💛 give me a place and a time xx

As much as she may have been looking forward to a good night’s sleep tonight, she still felt the swarm of butterflies flap around her tummy at the thought of Rita’s hands on her, telling her she was a good girl… Don’t get carried away yet, dummy, save it for tonight! I need a cold shower if I’m going to survive the next few hours. Before jumping into action mode, though, the first thing Lemon needed was a nap.

Rousing awake a few hours later, she padded downstairs to make herself a sandwich and a tea, continuously checking her phone with the hope tha Rita had replied. Met with silence, she then took her time to shower, deep conditioning her golden blonde hair and shaving everywhere she could, so she could at least feel better prepared than she had yesterday. Not that a grown-up adult lady like Rita would mind, of course, but it’s all part of getting in the zone, Lemon hummed to herself as she let the water wash away any anxiety she might have had about tonight.

She already knew what underwear she would wear: her favourite black bra with a light furry trim around the cup, and a lacy black thong. She was so sure that Rita was on the same page about how the night would end, she felt like she didn’t have to worry too much about what went over it, opting for indigo skinny jeans and a beige polo-neck. By the time she had finished her makeup, it was almost 5pm, and she still didn’t know the plan. Sitting up on her bed, contemplating how she would explain to her parents that she was spending the night out again, she once again opened the app, hoping that Rita hadn’t backed down. With still no reply, she couldn’t help the frustration which bubbled inside her, she didn’t spend so long stretching to shave the backs of her thighs for nothing! Even more discouraging was the lack of reply from Kiara… until she looked at the last message sent, and realised that she’d unwittingly left the poor girl on read.

Shit, I thought I’d replied already! That explains it… now how to explain that I’m a dancer who doesn’t dance anymore and has moved back in with my parents with no ambition to find anything else anytime soon?

[16:58] You’re a busy lady! What do you study? 😊

[16:59] I’m a dancer, currently hopping from audition to audition, hoping somebody likes me enough!

The reality was that Lemon hadn’t attended any auditions for over a month. She had tried to throw herself into her work after the break-up, but had soon realised that with a broken heart came an enormous lack of drive. She told the contemporary company she was a member of that she needed a break, and they told her to not bother coming back. So here she was, hoping that one day she’d once again wake up with a flame inside of her. Luckily, Kiara didn’t push her to expand on anything just yet.

[17:04] So a bit like Tinder then! Don’t worry, I’m sure lots of people will like you enough… in dance and Tinder!

[17:05] I study film and theatre, it’s fun 🙂 but a lot of essays to write in English which takes me forever lol

[17:06] That makes me sound like an idiot!! I promise I’m not, just Québéquoise!!

[17:06] Are you from Toronto? 🙂

Well at least if tonight doesn’t go ahead, I’ve still got a French option for the future, she sighed, running her fingers through her hair as she thought of an answer.

[17:08] Haha, I believe you 😉 my dad is from Portugal, but I think there are 2 year olds who speak better Portuguese than I do 🥺

[17:08] That sounds super interesting! Your job on the side must help a bit then?

[17:08] And I am, Toronto gal born and bred! How long have you lived here?

Just as she was about to put her phone down for the evening and fall into another nap, the message she’d been waiting for finally arrived, and Lemon found herself scrambling to read it.

[17:09] Sorry, lovely Lemon, work was kicking my ass all day. Does Mado’s at 8pm work for you? X

Lemon couldn’t resist one final reply, cementing her intentions.

[17:10] Sounds great, I’m sure I can help that ass feel better 😘 see you soon!! 💛💛

A/N It’s me again, your friendly neighbourhood translator!

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?” - Do you want to sleep with me tonight?

“Mais si je dis oui, es-tu vraiment libre ce soir?” - But if I say yes, are you really free tonight?

#rpdr fanfiction #drcan #lemon #kyne #kiara #rita baga #scarlett bobo #ilona verley #anastarzia anaquway #lmid #mermelada #submission #can1

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daisylincs · 4 years

Note

12 + 80 for Staticquake?

12 = Roommates AU, 80 = Green-Eyed Epiphany

Ahahah thank you so much, anon, I LOVE green-eyed epiphanies! I was actually hoping someone would send in a prompt like this, so big hugs to you. I hope you enjoy this!! 🤗

Daisy and Lincoln have been roommates for about eight years now, and it shows, in everything - like the way they know each other's routine so well by know that he'll yell "remember to put milk in the coffee maker first" from the shower when he hears her getting up, because he knows she's far too sleepy in the mornings to remember the quirks of their temperamental old coffee machine; and the way she'll leave him a sticky note on his stack of patient files for the day reading pick up Chinese for dinner, yeah? because she knows he'll pass right by that Chinese place they both love on his way back from the hospital; and the way he'll pick up all the socks and stray printouts she'll leave lying around, while she'll be busy fixing him a bowl of Ramen because she knows he'll have forgotten to eat on his shift.

Daisy could probably have moved out years ago, technically, because her job at Shield Programming pays, like, off-the-books well.

But she likes living with Lincoln, even though she stopped needing the money long ago. Besides, he's still finishing his residency, and she'd be a sucky roommate for ditching him now.

She wouldn't mind staying like this for the rest of her life, actually. Jemma would roll her eyes, but Daisy maintains her point: they've got a good thing going here; the kind of steady, unquestioning friendship that can only form after years and years of knowing each other.

And, you know, living in close proximity to each other for all those years. You stop being awkward around someone after about the fifth time you see them shirtless - after that, things are just good.

As in, knowing-each-other-so-well-you-can't-imagine-a-life-without-them-in-it good.

Daisy and Lincoln have so many inside jokes by now that nobody else can keep track of them. They've also picked up the habit of finishing each other's sentences - Daisy blames Fitzsimmons.

But the best part about this is the blackmail material they have on each other. Like that time Lincoln forgot to do the laundry, and went around wearing her "Golden Girl" T-shirt for the rest of the day. (She has photos.) Or that time when she was having an impromptu singing concert to the tomato sauce in the kitchen, and he recorded it.

They're so tight that pretty much everyone asks them if they're dating. Daisy and Lincoln are so used to it by now that they even have this whole elaborate story about an epic romance that failed because of dramatic and irreconcilable toaster preferences.

But, really - them dating? Pffft. Don't be dumb. They just don't think of each other that way.

They're both dating other people, for crying out loud!

Well. Technically, they were both dating other people. Daisy and Grant (lying cheating asshole, she thinks automatically) broke up a few months ago, and Lincoln hasn't dated anyone in a while.

But that's just because he's really busy completing his residency.*

She's sure he'll be bringing a girl around soon enough.

The thing is, Daisy didn't expect to actually be right. She expected to be going around saying "oh, no, I'm sure Lincoln will find someone soon enough" for a long time yet.

And it shouldn't, but it really bothers her.

She didn't okay this new relationship. She didn't okay this girl. She didn't okay any of this!

In some distant corner of her mind, she knows she's being utterly ridiculous. Lincoln is her roommate, not her dog. She doesn't get to okay this kind of thing in her life.

But this girl. Oh, dear God, this girl.

She's the worst - even worse than that Deke guy who keeps mailing her lemons, for some weird reason.

I mean, she drinks her coffee wrong! All black and without even a drop of sugar.

And she doesn't like Harry Potter!

Every little thing she does is just wrong, wrong, wrong, and irritatingly out of place in her and Lincoln's routine.

Plus, she's really not that pretty. At all. Daisy has eyes, she knows Lincoln can do better.

When Daisy explains all of this to her, Jemma just gives her a long, flat look. "You're sure you're not jealous?"

Daisy splutters, nearly spitting out her coffee (with milk and sugar, thank you very much, Alisha.) "Jealous?!?! Why the hell would I be jealous? What gives you that idea? There's nothing about this that says jealousy!"

"I just think," she says, stirring her coffee, "that Lincoln can do better than that little weasel."

Jemma's eyebrows fly up, and it looks like she's biting back a smile. "Weasel?"

"Yes!" Daisy says emphatically, slamming her coffee down on the table. "She's all, that's so cool, Lincoln and your flat is so nice, Lincoln and I worship the ground you walk on, Lincoln. Weaselling. All. Of. The. Time."

"You've met her once," Jemma reminds her, looking more amused than ever now.

Daisy scowls into her coffee. "That's more than enough, believe me."

Jemma is wearing her deluxe uh-huh face. "You're sure you're not jealous?"

Daisy glares at her. Is Jemma being deliberately obtuse? "Of course I'm not jealous! I'm just a concerned friend who knows he can do better." Obviously.

Jemma mutters something that sounds oddly like what, like you? under her breath, but when Daisy narrows her eyes, she drops it.

But the subject won't leave Daisy's mind.

Not her nonexistent jealousy, of course. Don't be daft.

Alisha.

How she's ruining everything.

How she keeps trying to get all of Lincoln’s attention. How she keeps putting stuff out of order in their flat.

How she’s only been over once, but Daisy can already see that she’s just not right for Lincoln.

Speak of the devil! When she gets home, there's Alisha, sitting in her spot on the couch next to Lincoln.

Daisy doesn't even think they hear her come in - Alisha's too busy laughing at one of Lincoln's jokes (probably one of those really-not-funny science puns he loves so much, she thinks, glaring) and Lincoln's got his arm slung around her shoulders.

It makes her blood boil.

That's her spot, there next to Lincoln. That's her spot, rolling her eyes and punching him lightly in the arm when he makes a dumb joke, not laughing like an idiot.

That's her spot, not Alisha's.

She belongs there. She, Daisy Johnson.

And that's when she realises: she's jealous.

She's completely, totally jealous.

Jemma was right.

(Well, no surprises there.)

But the point is - she, Daisy Johnson, is completely jealous of her roommate's girlfriend.

And she's not an idiot. She knows what that means.

Well, shit.

Her hands spontaneously unfreeze, and she drops her car-keys onto the floor with a loud clatter.

Well, double shit.

She curses under her breath as Lincoln and Alisha whip around, eyes widening at the noise.

"Hey, guys," she says, in the most casual voice she can muster. Lincoln cannot know something's up - not until she's had the chance to figure out what exactly she's going to do about things.

Lincoln frowns. "Are you okay?" he asks, his blue eyes searching her face.

Daisy plasters on her most convincing smile. "Of course I am," she says. "I'm just heading to my room now."

Alisha nods, as though this is perfectly normal, but Lincoln's brow is furrowed. "Are you sure you don't want to stay and watch for a bit with us? You've seen all The Good Place, so I'm sure you could just drop in whenever -"

"No," she interrupts, so sharply that he looks taken aback. "I mean, no," she says, deliberately softening her tone and adding a small smile. "I've got… stuff to do. Have a nice date. Binge-watch. Make-out session. Whatever."

She wants to hit herself very hard on the head with a heavy object, repeatedly, because if that's not the most awkward rejoinder in the history of all rejoinders…

She rushes across to her room, feeling her cheeks blazing, and praying to everyone who's listening that they leave her alone.

Lincoln follows her, of course.

"Daisy, you're not okay," he says, standing in her door with folded arms and a deep frown.

"Get back to your date," she says, just a little hysterical, because honestly, she's just had a big revelation dropped on her head and absolutely no time to sort out how the hell she feels about it all.

"Uh, no," he says, like it's obvious. "Alisha can wait. You're obviously not alright, and you're my friend, so -"

Oh, he really shouldn't go about saying things like that. Her head is a total mess as it is - that's just going to make her think that he's implying that she's more important than Alisha.

That is what he's implying, though, right?

"Daisy?" he asks, taking a step towards her when she just stands there like an emotionally confused statue.

She instinctively steps back, and oh, wrong move.

They're roommates. They've never been shy with physical touch - she's fallen asleep on his shoulder too many times to count, and he's used her legs as a pillow about the same amount. They've held each other for nights on end when the nightmares come, or after breakups, and they hold hands when they can see the other one needs it. They bump shoulders, brush against each other, shove at each other and tug on each other's arms all the time.

... In retrospect, she's feeling like a prize idiot for not realising she liked him till now.

But. Anyway. Here she is, shying away from physical touch, which she never does.

She sees the moment when he goes from "rightfully concerned" to "seriously worried," and it's right at that second. He takes her by the shoulders - gently, so she can still pull away if she wants to - and guides her to sit down on the bed.

"What's wrong, Dais?" he asks, and his voice is so stupidly sincere she thinks she might lose her mind completely.

He obviously cares so much.

But just not in that way.

"Daisy," he prompts, putting a gentle hand on her cheek to ground her, because he just knows she'll be getting dragged down in her thoughts.

She’s just about to reply when Alisha yells from the living room, "Linc, are you coming?"

And she can't be imagining the annoyance that flickers across his face. "Just a moment, Alisha," he says impatiently. "I'm busy."

They hear a sudden clatter as Alisha stands up sharply. "Really, Lincoln?" she asks, and she's full-on yelling now. "Is Daisy really that much more important than me?"

She doesn't give him the chance to continue, blazing on with her rant. "Well, I'm sick of it. All you can talk about is Daisy, and how smart and pretty and perfect she is. And you know what? I'm done. She's obviously the only one you'll ever have eyes for, and I'm really not in the mood to be stuck as your second-best for the rest of my life. That's it."

There's a shocked silence in the apartment for a full minute after Alisha slams the door, and her angry footsteps fade down the stairs.

Daisy and Lincoln gape at each other for a minute, neither of them quite sure what to say.

Then a thought - a memory that had been niggling at the back of her mind for the entirety of Alisha’s rant - pops up to the surface.

"You know," Daisy says, feeling as though something important has dawned, but not quite sure what it is, "that's exactly what Grant said. He said he cheated on me because, and I quote, he could never be the most important guy in my life."

"Yeah, well, Grant is an asshole," Lincoln says immediately.

"And Alisha's a weasel," Daisy counters.

His eyebrows fly up, and he looks so much like Jemma that Daisy wants to laugh. "Weasel?" he repeats.

Daisy rolls her eyes - but she can't help but notice that Lincoln isn't looking nearly as upset as he should be.

"Did she have a point?" she asks, dropping all jokery and looking seriously up at him.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Daisy…"

"Does everyone have a point?" she interrupts, standing up so she's almost level with him. "Does everyone see something we don't?"

Lincoln is frowning, obviously not getting it. “I don’t -”

“Everyone always assumes we’re dating, or says we should be dating,” she cuts him off, quick and sharp.

She takes a breath, channels May, and says it. "Are they right?"

Lincoln's hand freezes in his hair. "What?"

"Are they right?" she repeats, louder this time.

His mouth drops open a little, and he closes it quickly when he realises. "Well," he says carefully, "we have known each other for eight years, and it’s only to be expected that we’d be close -"

“I don’t care about what’s to be expected!” she cuts him off sharply. “I care about what’s true. For you, and for me.”

She’s slightly out of breath, and her gaze is locked on his, and she doesn’t think she could look away even if she wanted to.

“Do you think,” she says, “that they’re all right? That we’d work, if we were dating?”

The question hangs in the air between them for a moment, crackling and intense.

Then Lincoln answers simply, like it's the only answer there is: "yes."

Because yes, it is the only answer there is.

If they were dating, they would work.

They already know each other better than anyone else in the world, and mean more to each other than, well, anyone else in the world.

Grant and Alisha were sort of right, she realises. No relationship with anyone else could come close to what she and Lincoln have.

They’ve always done things together, and she can see him coming to the same conclusions at the exact same time.

His blue eyes are wide as he meets her gaze again.

“So,” he says slowly, and he sounds uncharacteristically uncertain, “what do we do now?”

“Well,” Daisy says, just as slowly, but with significantly less uncertainty. She can already feel a grin beginning to tug up the corners of her lips. “You’re the one with the scientific mind, Mr Med Student. If there’s a theory, you need to -”

“Test it,” he finishes for her, an answering grin playing on his lips. “You want to kiss me?”

Daisy shrugs one shoulder, trying to ignore the sudden explosion of butterflies in her stomach. “Well,” she says, shifting closer so she’s inside his space, “there’s only one way to confirm this theory once and for all, isn’t there?”

His gaze is soft as he looks down at her, so soft that she thinks she might melt into a puddle of mush. “I guess so.”

And then he’s closing the last bit of distance between them, slipping his hand into her hair and gently tilting her head up, and she’s stretching up on her tiptoes and placing her hand on his cheek.

They share a long, soft look - both of them with smiles still playing on their lips - and then her eyes are fluttering shut, and they’re kissing.

And if she thought she'd had good kisses before? Well. This is like nothing she’s ever experienced before.

She’s always known she and Lincoln work well together, but this is a whole new level. It’s like they were always meant to fit together like this.

It feels like coming home.

When they finally have to break apart for breath, Daisy opens her eyes to find Lincoln looking at her with a thoroughly shell-shocked expression.

She can’t help but grin at the sight. “I think it’s safe to say the theory is proved,” she says, nudging his nose with hers.

He rolls his eyes, but there’s only affection in his gaze. “You think?”

Daisy pulls back a bit to tilt her head, pretending to seriously consider it. “Actually, no, you know what? I think I’ll need some more proof.”

He’s shaking his head, eyes full of fond exasperation, but he’s not complaining at all when she presses up on her toes to kiss him again.

And if some tiny part of her had thought that first kiss was just a fluke... nope, that part was completely wrong.

This is still the most incredible thing she’s ever felt.

A sudden thought occurs to Daisy, and she has to stifle a small laugh against his lips.

He quirks his eyebrows at her, keeping his forehead pressed against hers. "What?"

"A week or so ago, Jemma was rolling her eyes at me when I said I wanted to be your roommate for the rest of my life," she says.

Tilting her head, she smiles up at him, with the kind of absolute happiness you can only get in those rare moments when everything is exactly right. "And now," she tells him, "that's exactly what I'm going to be."

His gaze goes all kinds of soft again. "That's what you think this is going to be? For the rest of our lives?"

She doesn't even hesitate for a second. "Hell yeah."

The End.

*For those of you who, like me, didn't know until now, a residency is the period where someone studying to be a doctor works in a local hospital under supervision. It's a very important part of the whole becoming-a-doctor process, and forms the last 3-4 years of your studies. (Thank you very much to Grace for explaining this to me!! Fic writing has turned out to be ever such an informative process, it's honestly amazing.)

Anywho, I hope you guys liked this bullet-point fic - it's definitely one of my favourites, and feels like a nice place to end the series.

#tropes mashup #roommates au #green-eyed epiphany #staticquake #bullet-point fic

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phobidawg · 4 years

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Holiday Lunar Bake-Off; Episode 1, Introductions and Welcomes

A hot new portscreen series (Hosted by Iko!) where some of your favorite celebrities (including Emporer Kaito, Queen Selene, and Ambassador Winter Hayle-Blackburn and more,) compete to win the title of Lunar Bake-Off Champion!

(or a *really* cringy crack fic where Iko throws them all in a baking competition and none of them know how to bake. It gets funnier in the later chapters, I promise. Also excuse and grammar or editing mistakes, I know there are many but I started this a long time ago and don’t want to bothering going through all of it again. I will be updating this once a week until I run out of prewritten chapters!)

Iko: *bursts onto screen in a flurry or glittery snowflakes* I just love the holidays! Lots of friends, family, presents, cute outfits..... and supposedly best of all, the food! *mumbles something under breath about not having taste buds*

Anyway, Welcome to the Holiday Lunar Bake-off! We've selected eight celebrity contestants from all over Earth and Luna to compete for the grand prize, 50,000 univs!! Enough to buy over 300 amazing outfits! Without further ado, the contestants!!! *throws arms open wide gesturing to side door of Kitchen*

*nothing happens*

Iko: I said, the contestants!!!

(off-screen Cinder) Iko, you have each name individually!

Iko: I do? Well then, *looks at paper in hand* our very first contestant is Luna's very own, Selene Jannali-Blackburn, aka Cinder!!

*Cinder emerges from side door, looking annoyed*

Cinder: Why am I always first?! First to be shot at, first to be enlisted to overthrow a queen, first to bother *cough*Thorne*cough*...

Iko: *cutting of rant* So, Cinder, tell us about yourself. *sticks mic in Cinder's face*

Cinder: *leaning away from mic and taking a step back* Um, well, I used to live in New Beijing as a mechanic...

(Off-stage) Kai: The best one there was!

Cinder: *shooting glare at door* And anyway then I found out I was a missing princess of a rock in space and saved a bunch of people from a tyrant and turned Luna into a democracy. So yeah. *feeble jazz-hands*

Iko: *swooning* And most importantly, your now engaged to dreamy Emperor Kai! Tell us, how does it feel knowing you'll be married to Kai soon?!

Cinder: I thought we were here to bake, not gossip!

Iko: I don't know about you, but Kai's smile definitely bake's my wires *cheesy wink*

(off stage awkward coughing)

Cinder: *ignoring horrible pun* By the way, would you mind showing me how to work that complicated fondant roller in the back because I really don't want to lose my other hand too....

Iko: Next up we have Scarlet Benoit of Rieux, France!

Kinney the Cameraman (off-screen): Um, Iko? My portscreen's battery is running a bit low...

Iko: Shh! We're filming!

Kinney: But...

Iko: The show must go on! SCARLET! Scarlet: *kicks open double-doors* Bonjour mon ami. (hello my friend)

Iko: Bonjour! Est-ce nous parlons en francais? (can we speak in french)

Scarlet: *Shrugs* D'accord. (sure)

Kinney: *coughs* Um, bless you?

Iko: Kinney! For the last time cameramen don't talk!

Kinney: *mumbles something under breath*

*Whole screen tilts sideways toward ground for a moment, before righting itself*

Iko: Kinney!

Kinney: *mumbling* whoops.

Iko: So Scarlet, you are probably the most accomplished baker in this whole set of people, and most likely the only one who knows how to use an oven! Where did you learn?

Scarlet: My grandmere taught me a while ago, when I was young. Our favorite thing to make was lemon cake, so I make on the anniversary of her birthday every year.

Iko: How sweet! Maybe even sweeter than sugar ;) *wink*

Cinder: *standing awkwardly off in corner* So....should I just leave?

Iko: *flapping hand in general direction to her right.* There's an exit somewhere around there. Now, I have a baking show to run!

Cinder: *to herself* Time to go get lost in a celebrity kitchen. Fun. *starts wandering off to try and find exit*

Iko: SO Scarlet, tell me more about this lemon cake. Is it sweet and tart, or tart and sweet?

Scarlet: *Looking confused* Ummm....

Kinney (off-screen): *cough* ten minutes of battery left *cough*

Iko: TEN MINUTES! Well, thank you Scarlet, good luck finding the exit.... *nudges a supremely confused looking Scarlet in vague direction* Next we have Captain Carswell Thorne!!

Thorne: *throws open doors, beaming blindingly* Finally, my time as a reality tv star has come! *pauses to consider screen* Wait a minute, we're filming with a portscreen?!

Kinney: Got a problem with that?

Iko: FOr the last time, cameramen don't speak! Now don't worry Thorne, this video will go viral soon enough.

THorne: Well, a camera's a camera. *smiles blindingly again*

Kinney: Eww... *turns camera not so subtly away from him*

Thorne: *noticing* Keep the camera on me!

Kinney: *reluctantly turns back at Iko's glare*

Iko: So, Carswell, it is said that your smile hides a shady past. What do you have to say on this?

Thorne: *sending a furtive look over shoulder at entrance, where a hint of a blond head suggests Cress peek out from door* All I have to say is that my ways are changing, and when I got together with Cress I even made a list... *starts digging around in coat pocket* it's in here somewhere.. I always keep it on me...

Iko: *starts fangirling* OMS that's so cute!!! However, we have a time limit *sour look at camera* so speaking of Cress good luck with the competition and finding the waiting room bye!

Thorne: Wait, what? You're kicking me out!

Iko: Cress! You're on!

Kinney the cameraman: Thorne if you're not gonna leave... *shifts camera so Thorne is out of frame*

Thorne: Fine! I get the picture! *makes a point of stomping away*

Cress: *pops onstage with a worried look in Thorne's direction, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, avoiding gaze with the camera.* Hello Iko.

Iko: *once again happy and bubbly* Cress! Welcome to the Holiday Baking Championship! Are you ready to bake?!

Cress: Um, yes?

Iko: I'm sure you can be a bit more confident than that!

Cress: *casting furtive look into the direction where Thorne disappeared, looking for help. Hesitates, and decides to remove the 'um'* Yes?!

Iko: That's better! Nothing like holiday spirit right?

Cress: *blushing nervously to be onstage* mhm.

Iko: Well, what's your favorite part of baking?

Cress: *pauses, and appears to being pulling herself together. Is actually envisioning herself as a famous chef (shh I didn't say that)* I love decorating the most. *newly confident*

Iko: Me too! I absolutely love cookie decorating, although a certain someone always steals the cookies when I'm done! *glares at camera aka Kinney*

Kinney: Hey! You don't even have taste buds, so how could you eat them anyway?!

Iko: That is so beside the point! What if I wanted to give them as gifts or something?! And just because I don't have taste buds... *trails off*

Kinney: Would you like to finish that sentence? Because I'm actually interested to hear what you might have to say.

Iko: *snaps* Cameramen aren't allowed to talk!

Kinney: Talk about being beside the point.

Iko: *fuming*

Cress: Uhhhhh..... Are you okay Iko?

Iko: I'm fine, just fine.

Kinney: *crisp* 4 minutes left.

Iko: AHHH! *looking murderous at Kinney's interruption*

Cress: *looking scared* Iko... *seeing Iko can't be helped* I'm going to leave *slips away*

Iko: *takes a calming breath*

Kinney: *wisely decides not to comment*

Iko: Wolf and Jacin, on stage! *looks very smug at having the smart idea to add two at a time*

Wolf + Jacin: *enter*

Iko: Hello and welcome to the Holiday Baking thing, merry Christmas, ect. Ect. ect. Ok we're on a time crunch so I'm going to start and end with a basic question. What ingredients do you like to use most in baking? Jacin, you're up.

Jacin: I don't bake.

Iko: Aw, come on, just list any ingredient you use for baking then that's nice.

Jacin: Fine, flour.

Iko: *confused* flour?

Jacin: Flour. It's used in pretty much every baking recipe, so that makes it a logical choice. As a bonus, it is bland and tasteless.

Iko: Well then. Wolf?

Wolf: *instantaneously* tomatoes.

Iko: *under breath* why am I not surprised *out loud* Tomatoes?! How do you bake with tomatoes?!

Wolf: Easily! Tomato muffins, tomato pancakes, tomato cupcakes...

Iko: *looking queasy* For once I'm glad I don't have taste buds... I mean that sounds delicious! Good luck in the competition! *under breath* You'll need it. *louder, and much more excited* Next up, former princess Winter Blackburn Hayle and the dreamy Emperor Kaito!

*Kai and Winter wander onstage, Kai looking bemused as Winter rambles to him. Iko swoons*

Iko: Best for last! Don't tell anyone I said that though *wink at screen* Welcome to the Holiday Baking Championship! My first question is for Winter. Wherever did you get that dress?!

Winter: Oh, this? Well, it's pretty isn't it? *giggles and twirls, making her flowy dress swirl* I don't know really, it just seemed to show up in my room this morning!

Iko: I don't know about you, but I have a listed inventory of all my dress', so nothing ever randomly shows up in my room ;) Now Kai... *turns to Kai, who grins cutely/winningly*

Kinney: *cough*one minute*cough*

Iko: *snaps out of adoring reverie* 1 minute! Well Kai, Iloveyou--I mean Good Luck and welcome to both of you!

Kai + Winter: Thank you. Good night! *look at each other in surprise before turning and leaving*

Iko: *talking unnaturally fast* Well that's it for today folks! Please share and repost, and Happy Holidays y'all! Keep a lookout for Episode Two, Christmas Caking! Merry Christmas, Kwanzaa, and Hanuk-

*screen goes dark*

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arctimon · 3 years

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The Big Hero 6/Pokemon Crossover We All Wish Would Happen

Over the past couple of weeks, members of the Big Hero 6 fandom have been drawing/making mock-ups of the team with their respective Pokemon partners. Now, in total accordance with being late to every single trend ever, I will now do the same, but I won’t be backing it up with wondrous drawings.

Mostly because I can’t draw. Some of the members were really obvious, and some...weren’t. Out of everyone, Hiro was actually the hardest one, and I actually am still not really sold on my choice. That’s mostly because the specific Pokemon is not his schtick. There’s not really a Robot Pokemon. There are certain members that were tremendously easy.

And we’re going to start with one of them: Go Go. 1.) The picture I drew of Chibi Go Go and Cinderace (which I still have to finish, for the record) doesn’t actually depict the Pokemon I’d put with her. Cinderace would be her second choice. The first?

Falinks, the Formation Pokemon.

Genwunners may not know this one, because it’s from the newest Pokemon games, but it’s very symbolic of Go Go: there’s six of them, it’s pure Fighting-type, and it has a signature move in No Retreat, which is basically a Pokemon version of “Woman up!”. It raises all of its stats in exchange for it not being able to escape from battle.

But Go Go never escapes from anything, so it’s appropriate.

Plus they have the discs as well. Cinderace would be her backup, mostly because of the speed and rabbit parellels for her roommate, who is up next.

2.) Honey Lemon actually had the most options for her, because she’s the cutesy one. That means she can be handed literally any Fairy type and call it a day, but what fun would that be?

Especially because there’s another bunny Pokemon that she’d be with...and that’s Lopunny.

It doesn’t really delve into her superhero side because it’s a bunny and cute and furry and all that jazz, but imagine HL’s completelyf amazed face when she gets one. The squeeing would be nonstop.

Her secondary would be a Fairy type, and something that would change colored flowers based on the mood: Flabebe.

3.) Wasabi was also entirely way too easy, and he gets, in my opinion, one of the coolest Pokemon that was introduced back in X and Y: Aegislash.

I can’t even think of a proper backup for him; Aegislash is just that good. Plus, if worse came to worse, Wasabi could grab him and swing it around himself. But not too much, because the Aegislash line have a thing about possessing people with their tassels. His backup is another blade-related one: Bisharp.

Dark/Steel, cool design, somehow got Laser Focus as a level-up move in the latest games. Pretty much a no-brainer. 4.) Karmi is also an easy one, and her inspiration came from one of the occupants of her lab when Hiro came to offer his help in “City of Monsters”: Mr. Varicella Zoster.

What Pokemon is cute, semi-translucent, looks like something scientific, and is also a psychic powerhouse (you’re assuming Varicella Zoster is not)? You guessed it.

Reuniclus. The Multiplying Pokemon. The origin of it is based off of cells and amoebas, which is a perfect thing for a very scientific person like Karmi. And the imaginary story in my head has her getting her partner first through the mysterious means that the team has to investigate. Her back-up plays off of her other project: the tech rose. And the only Grass/Steel Pokemon (Ferroseed/Ferrothorn) isn’t really much of a fit. So we’ll play off of her wannabe superheroics with another plant-based masked powerhouse: Roserade.

What’s better than a bouquet that has flowers for fists? Nothing. 5.) Fred is a mascot for a “living”, and I think it would be funny if his partner would be very similar to a mascot, and that would be Bewear.

No, it doesn’t have cool Fire/Ice-type moves, and it’s not a lizard, but it’s a pun name, and I think Fred would appreciate a Pokemon with a pun name. Plus, I couldn’t really find anything that had Fire, Ice, and was a lizard.

At least with Bewear you can chain-breed Ice Punch onto it from Cubchoo, thus making Cubchoo an even greater Pokemon than before. His backup is one of the Pokemon based off of kaiju: Tyranitar.

Do you think that Fred is actually a Pokemon guy, or is Hiro the Pokemon guy? Methinks it would be a collaborative effort to try to get everyone else to know what the heck they’re talking about.

6.) You didn’t think I would forget about Baymax, would you? Now, you’d think that with being a healthcare companion would make me want to go for the obvious choice.

Blissey. And...you’d be partially right. But Baymax can’t just sit on the sidelines and heal, even though that’s his...purpose. Nah, we gotta get something a little more...metal.

Melmetal, to be precise. He’s very Baymax-y in the anime when Ash has him, and plus he’s got a two-fist move in Double Iron Bash.

Oh, and we’ll just give Mini-Max Meltan for funzies. 7.) As I was writing this up, I scanned back through it and was like “Who am I forgetting?”.

Oh nuts, Hiro is the one I was forgetting. So here’s the thing. I actually really like the idea of giving him Magnezone, because of “lul magnetism” and all that.

And I was struggling to give him a back-up when I saw @baymaksu and his drawing of him and Riolu, and it just clicked for me.

Plus the mental image of Hiro manipulating Aura just like Ash gets me excited. So there it is. My long, exhaustive post about Big Hero 6 and their Pokemon partners, based off my twenty some odd years of being a Pokemon trainer. I wonder if I should do the villains next. Or maybe the Beta Team. Or both.

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mrsbarnes32557038 · 4 years

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Spectrum - Part 2

Meeting Stark

Warnings - Cursing, alcohol.

Word count - 2,826

2010 – Washington D.C. – Your apartment

“What is this?” you say while looking at the paper you were just handed.

“A job.” Fury says blankly.

“I have a job.” you state while still studying the paper.

“This is a better job.” he responds while turning towards your fridge. He cracks open a beer and slides it across your counter towards you.

Catching it without even looking you take a swig. “A personal chef? I don't believe I'm qualified for this.” you continue to resist.

“Qualified is just a state of mind. You can do this.” he urges.

“CALIFORNIA!? Are you trying to get rid of me?” The hurt in your eyes was hard to mask as a shade of melancholy blue flashed across them.

Fury sighs while taking the paper from your hands and setting it aside so he can look you in the eyes “No Y/N. I'm not trying to get rid of you. When you care about someone you do what is best for them, even if it isn't what is best for you.”

You listen intently to his life lesson making sure to commit it to memory “Got it.” you respond simply. Fury has taught you a lot over the past two years since that fateful day at the diner you work at caused you to catch his attention.

“I can't force you to do anything but your flight takes off in a couple of hours.” he hands you a ticket and starts to leave, with a hand on the door knob he says over his shoulder “Non-refundable.” and with that he was gone.

You sigh looking at the ticket. Fury may not be able to force you to do anything but you'll be damned if you disappoint him. You polish off your beer and head to pack your bag.

———————————————

2010 – California

The next day you are struggling with the GPS in your rental car. “Piece of sh... Ugh! I thought technology was supposed to make things easier…” you mumble to yourself. Accepting your ineptitude you are forced to request assistance from a passer-by “Excuse me sir?”

He seemed innocent enough but he looked you up and down with a definite interest in mind “What can I do for you?”

You weren't worried about him but it never sat right with you when a man looked at you like that, like it was the wrong eyes looking at you. You shook the thought away and did your best to be friendly “Tech and me don't get along and I need directions to a job interview I have this afternoon. Could you please help me out with this GPS?”

“Sure thing. Huh, I think Stark lives somewhere around there. Wouldn't it be cool to meet him?” the man punched in the address and fiddled with the screen for another minute. “I added my address to your GPS too, come by tonight, I promise to show you a real nice time.” he gave you a wink.

“I don't know who that is, thank you for your help though. Gotta go, can't be late!” you could not get out of there fast enough. You might be naive when it came to a lot, you only had three years under your belt after all, but after enough embarrassing and occasionally dangerous encounters with guys like that you had learned what they really meant by a nice time.

You used the drive out to Malibu to clear your head. You really wanted to do a good job today even if moving across the country was a scary notion to you, Fury was right this was a great opportunity. But… what could you really bring to the table here? No pun intended. “No!” you said to yourself “Don't doubt yourself, just follow your instincts.”

“You have arrived at your destination.” the GPS chirped out.

You stared at the house, scratch that, mansion. You got out of the car and headed over to the edge of the bluff to get a better look at the view. “Damn.” you whispered in amazement as you watched the waves of the Pacific crash onto the shore, the smell of salt in the air. You’d always enjoyed the views of the Potomac from around D.C. but this was surreal, little did you know so was the owner of this property.

You started back towards the house but stopped short when a man stormed out the front door “I've never!” he yelled loudly and spat on the ground in front of the entrance. Noticing you he looked you up and down with what you discerned as repugnance “If I, a 3 star Michelin chef, am not good enough for his highness there is certainly no hope for you.” he spat out in his thick French accent and promptly continued to his car and proceeded to peel out of the drive.

“Charming…” you muttered as you collected the grocery bags from your vehicle and headed into the house, the front door still wide open from the previous applicant's tantrum.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked around. So much space, so much light, so many windows. There were even windows on the ceiling! What are those called again?

“You must be Miss Y/N.” a voice broke your concentration.

You looked around but didn't see anyone. “Yes, I am.” you called out still trying to find the source of the voice.

“My name is J.A.R.V.I.S. and I will be directing you towards the kitchen so you may prepare your menu. Mr. Stark is otherwise occupied.”

Still not seeing a source for the voice you responded “Well Jarvis it is very nice to meet you. But, where are you?”

“I am an AI.” Jarvis says matter-of-factly.

“An… AI?” you had no clue what that even was.

“Artificial Intelligence.”

“I'm not familiar with what that is.” you say honestly.

“The definition of artificial intelligence is as follows: the theory and development of computer systems able to perform tasks that normally require human intelligence, such as visual perception, speech recognition, decision-making, and translation between languages.” Jarvis rattled off.

“So you are like a computer that can talk? Oh! I hope that doesn't offend you, I don't mean to simplify what you are. Hell, you’re obviously smarter than I am…” you ramble on.

“I am not offended Miss Y/N. If I could feel emotions I believe I would find your concern endearing. Please follow the prompts on the wall and I'll lead you to the kitchen.” he says reassuringly.

“Holy cow!” you exclaim as you enter the kitchen, fingers gliding over the countertops feeling the coolness of the marble. It is easily the nicest kitchen you’d ever seen, very modern just like the rest of the home and top of the line everything.

“You will be preparing Mr. Stark lunch today. Please let me know when you have the meal completed and I will alert him.” Jarvis stated.

“Thank you Jarvis.” Hesitating for a moment you decide to proceed “Jarvis, may I ask you a question?

“Of course Miss Y/N. I am here to help.”

“The man who interviewed before me…” you swallowed, insecurity building inside of you “seemed upset when he left. What happened?”

“Oh, him. Yes. Mr. Stark took one look at his dish and decided to go with someone else.”

“He didn't even taste it!?” you asked incredulously.

“Sir felt that he wouldn't be a good fit. He can be particular.”

Your heart sank a little. “If a three star chef’s food wasn’t even worth tasting I'm not really sure what I can do here.” You say with a defeated shrug. “Anyways, thank you Jarvis, I really appreciate your help.”

“Let me know if I can be of further assistance.”

You take a deep breath trying to collect yourself, you slide a small picture out of your watch pocket and admire it. “Be with me.” you whisper tenderly as you trace your finger over the image of Sargent Barnes. You always kept the picture with you, always. Even though you had learned of his death at the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum you couldn't help feeling a connection to him, feeling him, like something kept you tethered together. You tucked the picture safely back in your watch pocket. “Just follow your instincts.” you said to yourself.

You had decided on prawn bruschetta and a kale salad with a lemon vinaigrette. It wasn’t exactly in your wheelhouse of classic diner fare but you wanted to impress and you didn't think a greasy cheeseburger would cut it. You had also brought the staples for one of your personal favorite meals for your own lunch, pizza rolls and beer.

The salad was done including the freshly made croutons and you were just about to get to work on the prawns when the oven dinged signaling your pizza rolls were done. You twirled your way over to the double oven and took out the pizza rolls to cool. You felt almost at home in this kitchen, you could definitely work in this space. As you were getting ready to toss the prawns in the heated oil you were startled by someone coming into the kitchen. Someone who works on the property you assume, maintenance maybe, he had grease staining his clothes.

“Something smells good.” The man said looking around eyes finally settling on the pizza rolls and beer. He rubbed his hands together and went to dive in. “I can have some of these right?” he asked with a pleading grin on his face. “I haven't eaten all day.”

“Of course! I never turn away someone hungry.” you say with a laugh. “Just don't drink all my beer.” You feign a stern tone and point a finger at him.

You continue your work on Mr. Stark’s lunch as the man starts talking again. “So I take it you are one of the applicants for the personal chef position?”

“Yes. To be honest I'm not really sure what I'm doing here. I feel out of my league. Have you seen all the windows in this place? I'm not sure some diner cook could impress who ever lives in a place like this.” you turn around quickly to face the man who is sitting at the island behind you eating pizza rolls off the cookie sheet. “I probably shouldn't have said that out loud! Please don't tell Mr. Stark.”

The man gives you an amused look “Oh I wont tell him.” he says while crossing his heart.

“Thank you.” you release a sigh of relief “What's your name?”

“Tony. So where are you from?”

Turning your attention back to your dish you continue your friendly banter “Washington D.C. What about you?”

“Manhattan. Tell me about yourself, hmm I didn't catch your name.”

“Y/N. Not much to tell really. I live a pretty quiet life, I work at a diner and spend most of my free time either in my apartment or at museums around the city.” you weren't about to confess the amount of time you spend at the Captain America exhibit “I do have my neighbor over for dinner from time to time, he always has the most interesting stories.” You turn to the island to plate the meal and look at the man who has all but demolished your lunch “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.” he says cleaning his hands with a napkin.

“Shoot what?” you ask quickly but with sincerity.

He can't contain his laughter and you are just confused. Wiping the tears forming in his eyes from laughing so hard he manages to collect himself “It is a colloquial saying. It means go ahead.”

“Shoot means go ahead.” you say out loud to yourself trying to commit this new information to memory. “Got it.”

“You are an interesting woman Y/N. What was your question?”

“Well I was going to ask what Mr. Stark is like but his lunch is ready so I guess I'll find out for myself soon enough.” you look around and ask sheepishly “Jarvis?”

“Yes Miss Y/N?” Jarvis responds.

“Mr. Stark’s lunch is ready. Should I bring it to him or would he like to eat somewhere in particular?”

“That's okay Jarvis. I got this.” Tony chimes in with a smug grin plastered on his face.

“Certainly Sir.” Jarvis replies.

Staring at Tony your jaw agape as you put it all together. You were so focused on making your dish as perfectly as you could manage that you hadn't really put much thought into who your lunch guest really was. You were mad at yourself for getting caught off guard, you should be better than that, you are better than that, little red arcs danced over your fingers, you quickly put your hands behind your back and worked to control your emotions.

“You lied to me.” you accused, still fighting back your anger at yourself.

Tony looked at you full of amusement “I didn't lie. How was I supposed to know that you didn't know who I was?”

“How was I supposed to know who you are?” you snap back.

“Most people do. I guess it’s the whole genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist thing.” he says while gesturing with his hand like it is no big deal.

“I guess I'm not most people then.” you say sharply while starting to gather your things.

Tony smiles and nods in agreement “Yes. You, Y/N, are not most people. In fact your resume, or lack thereof, is what initially intrigued me. However when I tried to dig a little deeper, for security reasons and all, I found pretty much nothing. In fact I couldn't find anything on you prior to three years ago, it is like you are a ghost. You don't even have an email.”

You had stopped gathering your things and just stared, jaw clenched, at the man who already knew too much about you for your comfort. “I'm not sure what you would like me to say.”

“The truth.” Tony said simply.

“I always tell the truth.” you confessed.

“Always?” he asked doubtfully.

“Yes. Unless a promise I've previously made will be broken or someone’s safety would be compromised.” You state earnestly.

“Then let the grilling commence!” he motioned for you to take a seat next to him at the kitchen island.

You look at him puzzled “What would you like me to grill?”

“No. I…” he chuckles and shakes his head at you. “I'm going to ask you some questions. If you are going to work for me I need to know that I can trust you.”

“Okay…” you’re a bit wary but your instincts tell you to give Tony a chance and you always trust your instincts. You take a seat on the stool next to him.

“Are you in witness protection or something? Is that why you’re a ghost story?” he starts off.

You think for a moment “I don't know what that is and I am not a ghost.”

“Okay… Let’s try again. What were you up to before three years ago?”

You shrug. “I don't know.”

It was Tony's turn to be confused “You don't know?”

“Correct.” You nod.

“How can you not know?”

“I am not sure how.”

You can tell he is getting frustrated now as he runs his fingers over his beard in thought. “You have to help me out here a little Y/N. Can you tell me what you do remember about your life? Why can't I find anything on you?”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I am not trying to be secretive Tony. It is just engrained in me. It keeps me safe.”

“Safe from what?” he asks softly.

Your eyes open full of tears “I don't know!” you choke out. Just tell him. Tell him. You think to yourself. You've only told two people about your situation, it like everything in your life was a closely guarded secret. You have always felt a strong urge to stay hidden, it was instinctual really. But in this moment looking in Tony's eyes you see something, something familiar. He has been lost, like you. Please be right about this. “Just like I don't know who I am, where I'm from or what the hell happened to me before.”

“Before what?” Tony gently urges you to continue.

“Before I woke up. Three years ago. Alone. In the middle of nowhere.” you confess. “Maybe I am a ghost.” you whisper under your breath.

Tony thinks for a moment, slaps his hands on his legs and stands up “Okay! I work a lot of odd hours so I'll need you to be available during those odd hours. You can have access to the facilities around the property, gym, pool, tennis courts and so on. Jarvis will alert you to anywhere you do not have access to. I'll have Pepper go over the paperwork and other boring things with you. When can you start?”

Spectrum Masterlist

#marvel fanfiction #spectrum #original character #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #platonic tony x reader #platonic Fury x reader

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