#Not sure if it can be seen since pencil doesn't look great on pictures but Ely had freckles that I removed when I made her older in V2

[random-meme-bot]

When did you initially come up with your oc's? Like... long has the concept of hexes on the shelves existed in your head? :0

Also, this may be a hard question but do you maybe have any voice headcanons for them? :o

Ok this is actually a hard question to answer, since the actual idea of a duo of character that can see ghost and it's ghost partner started way way back when I was a kid due to a pair of Spanish educational point & click adventure games called "Central de Fantasmas" (ghost central)

While the games are surprisingly high quality for the standars of educational games (the guy voice actor also does Fry in futurama as well as a lot other characters in other shows), all things considered they didn't do much with the ghost idea, so it led to my kid shelf imagining this stories about a duo of characters one human and one ghost, I'll be honest I don't remember anything about them.

A few years back, on 2022 I got really nostalgic for this games and decided to play them (took a while to make them run since these where designed for Windows XP tops) and the memories of me playing came back and through the next days of playing I started again tinkering with the idea of a human/ghost duo, it all clicked when YouTube recomended me the song "All my friends are ghost" by Dib Dooley (the original non music video is older but it's no longer on her channel)

That's the point where my mind gave form to Ely, this parody of a mystery children book protagonist, unlike those who pieced things together out of clues that then would lead them to traping the villan thanks to their quick thinking and resourcefulness, Ely was clumsy, almost always was in the wrong track with her assumptions, and only managed to catch the bad guy at the end and survive fighting against literal crime bosses because of her friend Dan, a grumpy ghost who despite what he says really cares about Ely and makes sure to protect her, all lead to this.

The first ever art of Ely & Dan.

Ely's dressing was roughly inspired by another parody of Kids mystery books, Jenny LeClue, while Dan's was inspired by Gibson from the Webtoon "Greetings from Grisley".

Despite the fact that Jenny doesn't have a hat while Gibson does, the hat actually was originally drawn as part of Elly's design to complement the detective look, then it was given to Dan as it's design looked to simple.

The idea kept going in my head and some questions started to form "Why can Elly see ghosts?" "Why does Dan want to become a writer so bad?" "How does Dan manage to pay the bills with him being a ghost and his book store not making any money?".

That's the point where I decided to actually make a story out of this and started to learn how to use adventure game studio, when I more or less had an understanding of how everything worked and had programed a way to switch between normal Ely & Dan Elly, I realized that I didn't have any sprites or artist abilities, after some days and a bunch of re doing I had the sprite versions that I posted over here.

I decided to park the project for now and develop some art skills moment in which I started to draw other ideas I had (check the art section in my pinned post for more on that).

The Ideas for Ely & Dan keep going in my head evolving until their current version and at that point I just couldn't take it I needed to share them, so I took your advice and decided that even if they weren't going to look the best they could at least they were going to look, and so Elly & Dan were posted.

So yeah, to answer it simply, the concept as we know it today, middle of 2023 more or less, the original concept more or less middle to late 2022, the Original idea 2010 or so...

Also about the second question, I don't, I've tried to come up with voices for them both in English & in Spanish but they always change.

[morethanaloveinterest]

An Incognito Review of Natasha Romanoff's Costumes in CATWS

Let's talk about what Natasha wears on the run (and in disguise) during Captain America: The Winter Soldier

(under the cut)

I'll make a full post of all her suits and how those change over the years, but this one is my second-favorite. She's in it pretty rarely, though. Just the very first scene, and then in the helicopter at the end. I think it's the movie where she spends the most time in civilian clothes. Anyway, this one looks MUCH more comfortable than the Avengers one, which seems like it doesn't breathe at all. This one being clearly fabric looks much nicer.

Female representation: 9/10 It’s great, obviously has a tactical purpose. It's not unzipped scandalously and it doesn't emphasize her *assets*

Practicality: 10/10 Again, I feel I must give all of these tens because she wouldn't wear something impractical for work unless it was part of the job. I do feel this one is more practical than the other two thus far since it does look more comfortable and breathable.

She wears this during a few different scenes, once with a green jacket instead (so I'm putting them together). It's her civilian clothes that she wears when not undercover, following the previous movie by being skinny jeans and another (two!) of her endless leather jackets. Brown and black is a bold combination and looks great with her hair color (I'm also a redhead, so I like this one better than the Avengers ones because those had orange and we don't look good in orange). It's also muted, which matches the overall aesthetic of the movie.

Female representation: 9/10 As I said in the last one, it's great that she gets to wear tight-fitting clothing in a way that makes it just seem like her preference. Instead of making it seem like it's specifically for the audience.

Practicality: 9/10 Very practical, especially with layers she can take off when she's chilling (like at Sam's house). As we see in the fight, she obviously has some gadgets on under the jacket (grappling hook, stingers), so she's pretty prepared for anything.

This is the mall outfit she wears to go undercover with Steve. She wears the hood up at the mall, which adds to the disguise. I love it, especially the converses she's wearing. She looks very comfortable and definitely like an average mall-going in 2014.

Female representation: 10/10 This is the most normal thing we've seen her wear. I like that, even though it has skinny jeans, it doesn't really show off her physique. She's undercover, something that many movies use as an excuse to make her extra sexy. Instead, this one makes her look extra comfy, and I love that.

Practicality: 8/10 Steve says the shoes will fall off if he runs, and I must assume hers are the same way. It's unclear if she has any of her gadgets on with this one, other than her phone. But it does include pockets big enough for her phone and good enough to protect the drive, which is honestly more practical than a lot of my jeans, so, it's pretty good.

I couldn't find a full-body picture of her when she takes the mask off, sorry. But that's her outfit as Counselor Hawley. It's very professional, matching the suits the men are wearing. It's a great color for Nat (especially with her red hair) and I like the style. The necklace is perfect for the role and is obviously not Nat's usual choice.

Female representation: 8/10 I mean, seeing her beat up the guards in the room while wearing this is super awesome. Especially in a pencil skirt.

Practicality: 7/10 This is probably the least practical thing she wears in the movie, though she obviously does everything she needs to do while wearing it. I'm sure it wouldn't be her first choice of mission outfits, however.

This is what she wears during the final scene. She tends to end movies wearing more black then she started (in IM2, she wears black dresses after being revealed as the Black Widow; in Avengers, she wears a black shirt in the ending scene). I don't know if that's intentional, but I like the idea of it revealing who she really is (the Black Widow, dressed in black leather even as a civilian). I also really like the white tank top with this look - it really pops. And I love seeing yet another of her endless leather jackets. This one may be my favorite - I really like the length on her.

Female representation: 9/10 Same as the above civilian outfits - it's a great nod to her tac suit without emphasizing how tight things are.

Practicality: 8/10 Practical, for civilian clothes. I expect those pockets are fake, though, and it's unclear if she has any gadgets on. Which would make it more fun

Check out my other costume ratings here

Please come listen to me talk about Natasha’s character arc in each movie on Youtube - the whole 6-part series out now!

[seeds-and-sins]

F**kin’ Diabolical (Chapter 6)

Master List

Pairing: Homelander / Original Female Character, Billy Butcher / Original Female Character

Rating: M (Strong language, sexual themes)

Decription: Carly Danvers is a reporter/radio show host/annoying little piece of- For reasons unknown to Vought, she decided to start a one man investigation on Vought’s operation. Her efforts had been quite successful so far, so much so that Stillwell would have done anything to see the young girl dead. Turns out Stillwell didn’t have to do anything at all, while one piece of evidence against Vought causes Danvers to fly too close to the sun. And Homelander flies after her.

Chapter Summary; Homelander agrees to take Carly to her apartment, then someone knocks at her door.

 The flight to her apartment complex was absolute hell, just like the rest of her day had been so far. If Homelander hadn't been there to catch her every time she came plummeting down to earth, she would have killed a lot of people, she was sure of it. Not to mention, the feeling of being 20,000 feet, or higher, in the sky was not easy to get used to. She hated roller coasters and airplanes and zip lining, and just about everything that had to do with heights, so when Homelander urged her to go higher she felt like her heart stopped. It was beautiful, a fantastic view of the city. However, she was certainly not used to flying in the sky, or being bulletproof, or having lasers shoot out of her eyes, so she couldn’t really enjoy that view. Homelander had to keep reminding her that if she really did fall, "You won't feel a thing", which only made reality progressively worse for her. 

    When they finally arrived she had ended up clutching to him like he was her last breath, begging him to sink the landing so she wouldn't blow clear through several stories in her descent. She knew how amusing this was for him, she could see it in his eyes every time she would looked to him for help. He was the worst person she could seek guidance from, but in these desperate times, he was the only person she could seek guidance from. He had been manhandling her, dragging her around, criticizing her for not being able to catch on so quick. This must had been some sort of dream for him.

   Then, of course, there was the name: Lady Liberty. It was catchy and classy, but who the fuck would come up with a name on the fly like that?! No. He had been ready, waiting, ever so patient, and he said it like she was already a supe, like the name was burned into her flesh at birth. She imagined herself flying beside him, wearing his colors, flashing his abilities, what a sickening thought to think that would get him off? She used to laud the man, then she found out he was just some lab experiment, like all the other supers, and now she was too. What even was this? What was she doing? Where was she? Oh yeah, she was in her apartment. She didn’t even realize because it didn't feel the same, she didn't feel like herself. 

   When she entered, Homelander in tow, she went straight for the alcohol. She scurried around the bar counter, grabbed a scotch glass and poured some whiskey for herself. Homelander watched silently as she downed the whole glass in one gulp, then she tipped her head forward, wincing her lips and poured another. He then continued to stalk around, probing the entire apartment, although she knew he had seen it before. Despite it being speculation, she figured he had stalked her, or watched her in the past. The fact that he knew where she lived and that he knew where her clothes were was suspicious enough. With everything going on, she didn't really have much time to sort out her feelings on the matter. She downed another full glass, gulp after gulp. The burn of the whiskey melted into her, and she fucking needed it. 

"That won't work. Trust me." She caught her breath, hand clutching as gently at the bottle of whiskey as she could. 

"What won't?"

"You can't get-"

"Don't say it, Homelander. Don't you fucking say it." He shrugged, then continued to walk around the perimeter of her apartment, a full on inspection. "Can you not fucking act like you haven't seen this place before?" She left the whiskey and empty glass, turned off now by the fact that she wouldn't feel its effects no matter how hard she tried. 

"I did," He paused in stride, eyes focused out the window spanning the wall, where a balcony hung. "To retrieve your clothes, remember?" 

"Oh, don't play innocent, it doesn't suit you." Homelander snorted, almost nervously, then faced her again with a smile. 

"Carly, I don't have any idea what you are talking about." Her bare and dirty feet padded against the wood as she started towards the hall that lead to her bedroom.

"Sure you don't." She remarked sarcastically, zooming past him.

"Where are you going?"

"To take a shower. Go watch TV, or something." Carly did have a moment over by the bar, where she had to reel herself back into reality, yet again. Homelander was in her home and she had superpowers, it doesn't get more fucked than that. Even more so, Homelander had been spying on her for who knows how long, and he was in her living room, and she had superpowers. She needed a shower so bad. She needed to just wash all of this shit away, physically and emotionally. Homelander watched her disappear down the hall, she could feel his eyes piercing through her.

    She entered her room, closing the door behind her, as if that would stop the great Homelander. She rested her head back against the door, careful not to put all of her weight on it in fear of it breaking behind her. She closed her eyes, tried to settle in to this feeling that had been coursing through her since she woke up. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it into the hamper that stood not so far off by the door, leading into the bathroom. She then discarded the sweatpants, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. She turned to face the long side oval mirror on her nightstand, eyes softening at her damaged state. She looked like Carly, but she didn't feel like Carly. 

   She twisted her waist, above her hip sat a clear scar that trailed from around the curve of her side, up towards her rib cage, where it stopped. It was still there, so she must still be Carly. She watched her hand, mesmerized as it rose up to her cheek, fingers peddling against the flesh. The same flesh that can withstand anything that came its way, but it still felt soft, like Carly. The fingers slid up and over through her hair, where her lips parted and she could feel the oily strands between her fingers. She felt the tears blossom in her eyes, where oddly enough she still feel the heat in them from the heat vision. How can someone be a human one day, ever so vulnerable, then be an indestructible hero the next? She placed her hands on her waist now, taut beneath her fingers and she stared at her reflection again. She couldn't even look, the pose didn't make her feel any better or greater. It made her feel like a stranger. 

   In the reflection she saw her acoustic guitar, the solid black giving her some solace in these trying times. She stepped over to it, almost subconsciously, and picked up the neck. She settled herself down onto the edge of the bed, propping the guitar on her lap. Perhaps a somber tune would ease her mind, but before strumming at the strings her attention locked on something else. She caught sight of the wall beside her bed, it couldn't have gone unnoticed, it was a masterpiece of her own design. The sight of a thousand sticky notes and strung up pictures that she had painted, sketches that she had drawn. She mindlessly placed her guitar down beside her on the bed and stood, feet taking her to a single sketch that she had made so long ago. It was of Homelander.

   At the time she criticized herself; the nose was too crooked, or the eyes just weren't all too great, but no, the sketch was the perfect image of him. She remembered the pencil taking over her that day, and she didn't really know what drove her to sit down and crank out his image. Of all the things she had drawn, Homelander was certainly the most elaborated sketch. The way she traced his jawline, the crisps of his hair, the subtle tiredness in his eyes, did he-they even feel exhaustion? She didn't feel exhausted right now, was that another post-compound quality? 

    She closed her eyes, and honed into the silence, giving herself a moment to enjoy this peace while it lasted. Then something happened all too soon, she found herself unprepared for it. She could hear voices, the honking of cars, the breathing, the heartbeats, the wind, it was like in the hospital that morning. Her eyes fluttered open, and her expression turned fierce. She couldn't even enjoy silence, not without hearing everybody else. She huffed out her agitation, then stormed towards the small bathroom, where maybe the water could do her some good. 

   It was a thin bathroom, and very cluttered, cluttered with an array of hair products, makeup, perfumes, and lotions. There was no bath tub, much to her distaste when she originally got the apartment. The thin brick that separated the floor and the shower tile was all that kept water from leaking everywhere. The curtain was an off blue, that matched the navy bath mat she had put down. She finally removed her underwear, tossing it into the hamper with her other clothes. She didn't waste any time, finding herself under the rusty shower faucet and turning the lever over. She made the water as hot as possible, knowing that too hot was no problem for her now, and also that she needed that steam and that warm embrace. 

   She sat under the water, feeling it trickle down over her, her blonde strands soaking and sticking to her skin. She enjoyed the stream as it caressed her back massaged her, allowed herself to be engulfed in its blissful touch. She moaned out her approval and settled her forearms against the wall above her, resting her forehead on them. This felt nice, after a second of relaxing under the water she was already feeling calm. She controlled her breathing, trying to find that meditative state that would allow her to just... Not think. Even when there was so much to think about, so much coursing through her mind. And Allen? She had tried not to think about him, about how he died. She wished he hadn't, she wished none of this would have happened, she should have listened to his warnings. What soared through her mind regarding last night made her feel disgusted in herself. She had done some horrific things and she was sure the things she couldn't remember were probably worse. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Where was that coming from?! What was that?!

Knock! Kno- 

THE DOOR!

   Carly felt her breath catch, she jumped out of the shower, part of the tile cracking under her as she went. She snatched her bathrobe of the hanger on the door, the door ripped off its hinges from the force. 

“Fuck me.” She ground out, but kept moving anyways. Her toes left puddles of water after her as she threw on the silk white fabric. She jogged into the living room, Homelander was calmly sitting on the couch, arm splayed out over its rest, the news on full blast. 

"Who the fuck is this guy?" Homelander asked plainly and she ignored him as she tied her robe and answered the door, cracking it and peaking her head out. 

"Billy?" She breathed out, fighting the urge to swing the door open and hug him. His eyes furrowed in confusion at the sight of her, wet hair, flushed cheeks, a bath robe?

"Carly, what the bloody fuck?! I thought you were in the hospital?" She shot her eyes over her shoulder at Homelander, who was glaring at her, unsure of her next move, but she went anyways. She exited her apartment, closing the door behind her. Billy staring at her with this crazed, flustered look in his eyes. She was fine, intact, critical condition, his ass?!

"Billy, this is a bad time." She stated, and his expression turned more into concern. He stepped closer and she stepped back, she was so afraid of touching him. One wrong move and she could kill him, with no control over her powers, this was a bad idea. Billy's expression hardened and he flung his hands up in the air.

"Carls, are you okay?! What happened?!" She noticed the flowers, and a part of her wanted to just hug him, hug him so bad. She needed a good hug, from someone, anyone. Billy would probably give the best hugs. He was such a burly guy and during their talks in the elevator she could smell the scent of him: a mix between cigarettes and cheap cologne.

"Are those for me?" She crooned, he had forgotten about the flowers, still shocked that she was even standing before him. He held the flowers up with a snort, perhaps to lighten his own frustration over the situation. 

"Yeah, I went to the hospital to go find ya' and you were fuckin' gone..." She opened her mouth to respond, but he kept going, gesturing to her front door. "Then I come 'ere, and hear your TV on, thought some bloody shitfaced rocker had taken up your apartment."

"Oh, yeah..." She was at a loss for words, how do you explain to someone that you are dangerous? That you are a supe now? Especially after making a show against superheroes. 

"And then, I heard that Homelander came to see ya'?!" He said, his tone filled with disbelief. "I go to your room and it was absolutely trashed! I thought you were dead!"

"Billy, I-"

"What? It's alright, you can tell me. I am here for ya'." His lips quirked up slightly, despite his frustration, she looked under extreme distress. She needed someone to comfort her, not berate her. He'd never seen her so torn apart, and it really did hurt him to see her like this. This was far worse than going to visit a burn victim, much like he had originally expected, she was far worse than that.

"Billy..." Her voice shaky, and her lip wobbled as if she was about to cry. He stepped close again, she didn't move, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Carly, I have never seen you like this before. You have to talk to me?"

"It's okay, I-I am fine." She held her hand out for the flowers, he hesitantly handed them to her, then gave her some distance. Still reeling in confusion and concern, he watched her usher herself through the door.

"Hey?" He said, she paused in the doorway, unable to meet his stare. "I just want ya' to know, I am..." He cleared his throat. "Always here for ya, alright? Us ugly faces got to stick together." She smiled sadly and nodded her head. 

"I will remember that. Thank you...” She gulped, “For everything." He gave her a curt nod as she disappeared behind the door. She held the flowers in her hand, staring at the wood blankly. She exhaled a trembling breath, and then slowly turned to Homelander. He was standing, hard glare on his face, arms crossed, about to reprimand her. 

“Now what the fuc-” She dropped the flowers and rushed towards him, her arms snaking around his sides and his hands flew up in surprise. He could feel all of her against, the thin material of the bath robe shielded nothing as her form sculpted so perfectly with his own. He had to admit. He had been watching her earlier, every step, every movement, threw him in a daze. She was perfect. He knew she would be. He could feel her body’s closeness start to have an effect on him and he was worried she would notice. "C-Carly..." He protested in a hushed whispered, she pressed her body into him even further, hugging him as hard as she could. He would have gasped if it hadn’t been for him biting his lip and clutching his gloves so firmly. His own arms soon wrapped around her, returning the embrace, although awkwardly. 

She just needed a hug, and Homelander was the only person she could give one too.

[iplaymatchmaker]

Hi! Can I request an ikevamp matchup? I'm a she Sagittarius INFJ and Ravenclaw. I'm 168cm, brown eyes and veryyy long(it overcomes my butt) reddish brown hair. Right now I'm in college on the architecture field. I plan to become an architect or something that has to do with art. My hobbies include drawing, painting, playing the violin, listening to music (preferably hard rock and metal) and watching anime and reading webtoons. I was always a lone wolf, so I hardly have friends or hang out with them. I'm a shy, quit person with social anxiety who doesn't socialize much, but I'll get out of my shell if I'm feeling comfortable around a particular person. I'm the person of the class, so everyone expects me to stay like that, but when angered or irritated I'm going WILD, and everyone is shook and silenced when that happens lmao. Since I'm introverted and have been bullied in the past, I don't like to be in the centre of attention and I don't feel comfortable around unknown people. Since I'm very sensitive I don't like when people hate me or yell at me and also can't tolerate flirting since I don't see it differently from harassment. I used to do many sports, since in my childhood I used to spend time with the boys because I could get along much more better with them than the snake girls back then lol. The sports I've done/still doing are football, basketball, volleyball, swimming, athletics, archery. I would like to try riding or sports that include weapons or combats, since I've always been into these kind of things. I'm more of a tomboy so I wear comfortable clothes like hoodies and I hate skirts and dresses, unless if it has a medieval style, since I like that kind of aesthetic. I love history, travelling, nature and animals (especially wolves, horses, owls, dogs and cats) and I really love sweets especially tiramisu. Also for the prompts I choose meet cute and bonding. Thanks! ^^

I match you with

Jean!

This is not because of your picture/name I promise! I genuinely find him the best match. Also sorry for getting carried away with the prompts I was seriously vibing. Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you like this!❤

  While he was surprised at first when he realized how passionate you get when something is important to you, he finds it very endearing and will listen to what you have to say, interested to see what it is that got you so riled up.

 Considering you’re both the lone wolf type, neither of you are in a rush to progress you relationship if it’s not the right time and he won’t push you when you need time alone.

  A lot of your first interactions aren’t much more than simple conversations but they help you familiarize with each other and slowly become more comfortable.

  He appreciates the fact that you prioritize comfort and practicality over looking extravagant, which comes in handy when the two of you are training together. It was definitely something he wasn’t used to but it was new in a delightful way.

  You couldn’t mask your surprise the first time he introduced you to his pet tiger, Shelly. It took a while but once you were certain it wasn’t dangerous you spent a great amount of time with the both of them.  

 Prompt 4: Meet Cute:

You were on your way home after a tiring day at work when you passed by the local stables. You typically didn’t like to stall around the horses, knowing the owner wasn’t particularly fond of women coming near them but one in particular caught your eye. You couldn’t help stepping up to it to get a closer look. Its body and mane were white as snow, unlike anything you had ever seen before. It had a certain air about it, not quite as aggressive as other horses at first glance, but not retreating either. You took a seat near it, making sure you could see all of it properly before pulling out a sketchbook and pencil from your bag.

“Mademoiselle?” you were startled when you noticed a man standing next to the horse, his eyes drifting between you and the ground. It took a few moments before you realized then sun had begun to set and that you had been sketching the man’s horse without his permission.

“I’m so sorry! “You scrambled to stand, accidently dropping a few of your sketches, sighing in frustration before rushing to pick them up.

“Are you all right?” he handed you a few of the papers, concern evident in his expression.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” You searched for a way to explain the situation but he spoke up before you had the chance to.

“She is quite the beauty. I was also very captivated the first time I laid eyes on her.” his eye was turned at the animal, his hand gently stroking its mane. That was when you noticed he was wearing an eye-patch.

“Is she yours?” you were cautious, but curiosity got the best of you.

“She is my partner.” He turned to you again. Despite his intimidating appearance he didn’t seem to have any ill intentions. “Do you ride?”

You shook your head.

“No. But I would like to. It’s just hard to find someone willing to teach a woman. A lot of the riders I’ve met are pigs.” You couldn’t mask the frustration in your voice.

“That’s a shame. Someone with an eye for beauty should be able to experience it up close.” You were both silent for a while, unsure of what to say.

“I apologize for keeping you. It’s gotten late.” The sun had almost set by then. His head dipped in a small courtesy before mounting his horse.

“Be careful on your way home, mademoiselle.” He shook the reins and then he was of. His presence occupied your mind as you finally made your way home, unsure of what to make of him, but curious to find out more.

 Prompt 7: Bonding:

It had been some time since you met Jean. Your first interactions were coincidental, around the stables when you were walking home from work or while shopping. One day when you were taking a stroll around town you happened to pass by what looked like a small arena, or open area of sorts. When you took a closer look you found Jean, drenched in sweat, sword in hand, moving with grace that you thought impossible for a man his size. You stood watching in silence for a few minutes, mesmerized by the sight. When he finally noticed your presence his head dipped, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Mademoiselle.” You couldn’t help but stop to look at the sword in his hand. It was a simple design, but its elegance seemed to match its owner’s air.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He said finally.

“I was passing by. I didn’t know you were so good with a sword.” When the words came out you feared he might have taken it the wrong way but he simply nodded.

“Thank you.” He paused before continuing.

“Are you interested in fencing?” you nodded, eyes landing back to the weapon in his hand. You couldn’t mask your surprise when he turned  the hilt towards you, urging you to take it.

“Would you like to try?” you were unsure at first, but eventually took it from him. The weight of it felt comfortable in your hands. You hadn’t noticed him bringing another sword but he was now standing in front of you, his grip on it firm.

“I-I’m not sure this is a good idea, I have never actually done it before.” You were scared he would be disappointed but instead he moved closer, startling you by placing his hands around yours, adjusting your grip on the hilt before taking a step back.

“Your grip needs to be firm, or your opponent will be able to knock it out of your hand with ease.” You nodded, fears forgotten as he walked you through some of the basics of fencing. By the time you were done, you were both panting, the adrenaline from his training slowly melting away into an unusually pleasant tiredness.

“Thank you so much for today. I’m sorry for occupying so much of your time.” You weren’t sure if he would regret it when he noticed how much time passed so you waited for his response.  

“We could do this again sometime If you’d like.” You nodded instantly at his words, the prospect of learning more about fencing –and by Jean of all people- exciting you more than you had expected.

“I would like that.” You smiled at him, looking him straight in the eye for the first time, feeling closer to him than you had during the past month of chatting with him without ever getting too close.  He smiled back, his face lit by the slowly fading sun, seemingly more comfortable than you had ever seen him, being in his element.

[tallulahchanel]

Possible Japril fanfic

This was an idea I have been considering for a while, but I don’t know if I should go along with it. Tell me what you guys think.

The rain poured heavily, drenching the cabin. Inside, the two identical girls were tending to their own activities. Lucy Kepner decided to spend her day playing solitaire while Bianca Avery was tacking pictures she cut from a magazine to the walls, both girls peacefully ignoring each other.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew in, sending Bianca's pictures to the floor. Gasping, she dashed over to the window and tried to pull it shut.

Lucy noticed her plight and went over to help. "Oh gosh!" she exclaimed. "It's stuck!"

Fortunately, they were able to get the window completely closed.

“Thanks," Bianca said with the first genuine smile she gave Lucy since they met.

"You're welcome," Lucy replied with a genuine smile of her own.

Bianca squatted to pick up the pictures, and Lucy knelt to help her gather them. When Lucy noticed Bianca's stuffed frog inside of the bucket she set out to catch the rain water, she grabbed it and handed it to the other young lady.

"Here's your..."

"Binky," Bianca finished for her, taking the stuffed frog and some of the pictures.

"Are any of your pictures ruined?" Lucy asked in concern.

Bianca sighed while showing Lucy a torn picture. "Only Eric Dane."

"Who?" Lucy questioned with furrowed brows.

Bianca released a surprised scoff. "You can't tell me that you don't know who Eric Dane is."

Lucy blushed and fell into a seated position on the floor. "Well, I don't watch much television, unless you count surgery videos. I actually spend most of my free time practicing sutures on my teddy bears." She giggled nervously, thinking that Bianca would find her hobby strange.

"You do sutures in your spare time too?"

"Too?" Lucy asked with a lifted brow. "You mean...?"

Bianca nodded before putting the pictures to the side and sitting next to the other young lady. "I can't tell you how much my grandma Catherine tries to get me to practice the running whip-stitch."

Lucy giggled. "Your grandmother’s name is Catherine?"

"Mhmm."

"What a coincidence! Catherine is my middle name."

“Really?" Bianca received a nod in response. "My middle name is Lexie. It's from an old friend of my dad’s who passed away before I was born."

“If you don't mind me asking, why do you practice sutures?"

“I come from a family of surgeons. My dad, grandma, and even my great-grandpa, Harper Avery. He died when I was a baby."

“Harper Avery? As in the Harper Avery Award?”

Bianca nodded. "Yeah, but my dad doesn't want me to rest on the laurels of being an Avery—whatever that's supposed to mean." She rolled her eyes. "So, how do you know about sutures and the Harper Avery Award?”

Lucy smiled. "My mom is a surgeon too. Head of Trauma, to be exact. She was nominated for a Harper Avery last year, but she lost to a cardio surgeon, who created a way to do a hetero-topic transplant without it taking too much time. I haven't had a chance to read the article about it yet, but it sounds interesting."

“Sounds like something my Aunt Maggie would enjoy,” Bianca said with a chuckle. “So, what hospital does your mom work?”

“North Valley. It's in Whitefish, Montana, which is like 3000 miles from here."

Bianca’s eyes widen. “3000 miles?!”

Lucy giggled. “I’m kidding. But it feels that long away from home, you know.”

“Tell me about it. I miss Seattle, especially the ferry boats."

“How far away is Seattle?”

“Washington, the state, is at the end of the country. Actually..." Bianca trailed off as she grabbed a photograph from her stack of pictures. "Here's a picture of my house."

“Wow!” Lucy exclaimed. “It’s beautiful.”

“My Uncle Derek built it,” Bianca explained. “He died two years ago though. My Aunt Meredith couldn’t handle living there anymore, so my dad bought the house from her, and we have lived there since.”

While she talked, Lucy noticed a man with his back towards the camera. His had caramel skin—similar to hers—and a neatly shaved head. He wore a burgundy polo shirt and a pair of blue jeans.

“Who’s that?” She asked, passing the photo back to Bianca.

“That’s my dad. He didn’t know I was taking the picture or else he would’ve turned around.”

Lucy nodded, taking in the information.

“In a way, he's like my best friend. We do everything—and I mean everything—together…." she trailed off when Lucy suddenly stood up and rubbed her arms. "What's the matter?"

“Nothing,” Lucy answered as she walked over to her cot and climbed in. “It’s just chilly in here, that’s all.”

Bianca wasn't buying it, but she shrugged it off and decided to rummage through her trunk. She pulled out a pack of Oreo's and a container of Jif peanut butter. "Want one?"

“Sure. I love Oreo's. At home, I eat them with peanut butter.”

“Get out! So do I!” Bianca responded, marveling at how much she and Lucy—a girl she met days ago—have in common.

“You’re kidding? Most people find it disgusting.”

“I know right. I really don't get it." Bianca's face twisted into confusion as she walked over to Lucy's cot and took a seat on her trunk.

“Me neither,” Lucy agreed.

“So, what's your dad like?" Bianca asked curiously as she opened the jar of peanut butter and dipped an Oreo inside. "Is he the kind of father you can talk to or is he one of those workaholic types?"

“I don’t have a father,” Lucy answered, but then she realized her words came out wrong. “Of course, I have a biological father, but I never met him. He and my mom divorced when I was a baby. She never talks about him. It’s almost like he evaporated or something.” She took an Oreo and dipped hers in the peanut butter.

“It’s scary the way people don’t stay together anymore,” Bianca replied.

“Tell me about it.”

The pair fell into a comfortable silence while munching on their Oreo's and peanut butter.

“How old are you?” Bianca asked, never being short of questions.

“I’ll be twelve on October 24th,” Lucy answered.

“SHUT UP!” Bianca responded, and Lucy furrowed her brows. “So will I!”

Lucy’s eyes widen. “You were born on October 24th too? How weird is that?”

“Extremely," Bianca agreed. She randomly glanced at the window and beamed when she noticed the rain had stopped. "Hey! It stopped raining! How about we go to the mess hall and get a popsicle or something?"

Before Lucy could answer, Bianca leapt off the trunk and headed towards the door. She was halfway out of the cabin when she realized that Lucy wasn't following her. She turned and found the other girl nervously fidgeting with her locket.

“Are you okay?” She asked in concern.

“Bianca, what is your mother like?”

“I don’t have one,” Bianca answered simply, unsure of why the other girl would want to know. “My parent split up when I was baby or probably before then. My dad doesn't like to talk about her. All I know is that she was really beautiful.”

“How do you know for sure?” Lucy inquired.

“Because my dad had this old picture of her in his sock drawer, and he caught me looking at it all the time, so he gave it to me.” She looked towards the woods then back at Lucy. “I’m really thirsty. Are you sure you don’t want to get something to drink?”

“Will you stop thinking about your stomach at a time like this!” Lucy admonished, taking the other young lady aback.

“At a time like what?” Bianca asked with furrowed brows.

“Don’t you realize what’s happening here?!” Lucy exclaimed and started pacing the cabin while Bianca watched her. “Think about it! Your parents are no longer together, and neither are mine. You’ve never seen your mom, and I’ve never seen my dad.”

Bianca listened intently to Lucy’s words.

“You have an old picture of your mom, and I have an old picture of my dad. Well, you probably have a whole picture. Mine is a pathetic little thing that’s ripped in half-”

Upon hearing this, Bianca's eyes widen and she made a mad dash for her trunk, shifting things around as she looked for something in particular.

“What are you looking in your trunk for?”

Bianca stood, clutching a wrinkled and torn pictured to her chest. “This is a picture of my mom, and it’s ripped too.”

“Right down the middle?”

“Right down the middle,” Bianca repeated.

Lucy locked eyes with Bianca for a minute before going over to her drawer and taking out a pencil case that held her own wrinkled and ripped photograph of her father. She clutched it to her chest and turned towards Bianca.

"This is so….freaky,” she said nervously while slowly walking towards Bianca.

“Very.”

“I say we count to three, then show them to each other. Okay?”

Bianca nodded in agreement.

“One...”

“Two...”

“Three!” The girls said in unison before turning the pictures towards each other, gasping as they saw the images of their parents in the hands of the other girl before connecting them into a perfect fit.

(AN: Please excuse the awful edit)

“That’s my mom,” Lucy whispered, staring at the twenty-five-year-old face of April Kepner.

“That’s my dad,” Bianca said in awe of the twenty-six-year-old face of Jackson Avery.

Just then, a bell sounded in the distance.

“That's the lunch bell," Bianca announced, her voice choking as she's pulled out of her revelry. "But I'm not really hungry anymore."

Lucy reached out to wipe a stray tear that fell from Bianca's eyes, unsuccessfully fighting the urge to crack tears herself.

“So,” Bianca spoke again, “if your mom is my mom…..and my dad is your dad, and we’re both born on October 24th, then we are like….like sisters!”

“Sisters?” Lucy replied, her tears flowing freely down her cheek. “Bianca, we’re twins.”

Overcome with the emotions of their unexpected reunion, the two girls embraced, wetting each other's shoulders with their tears.