#you can tell i have a thing for adding ruffles and long sleeves on ghosts...

[sailingseals]

HIHI..had the most silliest thought..drew the cast as like spooky supernatural creatures (except cecil..no clue what to make him..) or what they're called...well..I should have thought this during like Halloween but nooo...dkjfkd anyways..here it is :3!!

Left to right

Iggy(Ghost), Genzou(Werewolf), Orlam(Vampire), Bucks(Zombie), Gidget(Alien), Hunar(Witch/Wizard??), Jerry(Jackalope), Cecil(Scientist)

Hhhope these fit!! :3

Other extra lil doodles...

[hannie-dul-set]

“i'll take your word for it and no one else's.” [lee jeno]

SUMMARY | maybe snooping through your friend’s phone wasn’t that much of a good idea. or maybe it was. either way, you didn’t regret it. PAIRING | lee jeno x reader GENRE | friends to something, fluff, lots of bickering JHDFJ WARNINGS | swearing, invasion of privacy (LMAO idk) WORD COUNT | 2.1k TAGLIST | @danishmiilk​ @lucyinthesunshinee​ @sehunniepot​ @nct-writers​ @czennienet​ @neowritingsnet​

a/n: i didn’t think i’d turn another one of my dreams into a fic, but here we are HAHHAHA i tweaked a few bits and pieces to make it work (setting + added some dialogue + changed the ending because i WOKE UP before it could finish hmph) but please enjoy this unscheduled fic!! <3

early summer afternoons were warm.

bright rays of the sun were showering on your skin as you lounged on the park bench, hot enough to make you feel the season but not too hot to singe your skin. it was the perfect weather to waste the day outside, and your younger brother and cousin decided to haul you outside so they can play basketball at the park.

but you didn't know why your friend jeno decided to come along.

"your brother messaged me," he grinned at you, plopping down beside you with a long, refreshed sigh. a towel was slung around his neck and he used it to wipe the sweat on his face. "what? why are you staring at me like that?"

"since when were you close with my brother?"

"am i not allowed to be friends with the little guy?" he joked, but apparently he took the unamused look on your face completely the wrong way. "oh my god, are you afraid that he'll take all my attention away from you?" to further tease, he brought his smug face closer to yours that was dumbfounded in shock, his stupidly irritating smile moving in closer.

sometimes you wondered if this was the same boy who helped you cross the street the first time you met.

but you loved him nonetheless.

"like hell i want your attention," you sneered, lightly shoving him away with a glare. he only laughed at your display of annoyance. "go back to playing with the kids or something, you goof."

the never leaving grin in his face seemed brighter against the sun, and he playfully ruffled your hair before running off to disappear into the court.

"as you wish, m'lady."

you let out a huff of air, rolling your eyes as your cheeks were involuntary tugged upwards, prompting a smile to form on your lips. you brought your hands to your hair, fixing the mess that jeno left with, and your gaze landed on the phone he left beside you. the screen flashed on. someone was calling him.

brows knitted together, you picked up the ringing phone, unable to recognize the caller id. you brought the device to your ear, standing up walking towards the court— you figured that you'd just answer whoever that was now and just pass it on to jeno once he was at reach.

"hello?"

"oh, hello there!" there was a pause from the caller "is lee jeno around, miss? would you mind giving the phone to him?"

the voice was that of a middle aged woman's, but it wasn't someone that you recognized. you assumed it was a relative of his or something because you'd know that this was his mom if it were her. "ah, give me a moment! i'll just look for him."

your feet stopped at the edge of the court, the sound of a ball bouncing into the concrete jarring against your ears. not bothering to look at the scene in front if you, you covered the mic with your hand before deciding to shout.

"jeno! someone's calling you!"

there was no usual prompt answer from your friend.

"he's not here!"

the loud voice of your brother answered instead, causing you to narrow your eyes into the court scene with a tinge of confusion masking your expression. there was indeed no mop of blue hair within the area, and you were only confused even further.

"where did he— aish, nevermind."

scratching your head, you swiveled your heels and decided to just head back to the bench. "hi, sorry. i'm not sure where he is right now. so if it's fine with you, can you call him again later? or maybe i could just tell him to call you back when he returns?"

"oh, then can you just relay this to him? it won't take that long, i promise."

you inwardly sighed, but agreed nevertheless. oh, you were definitely gonna ask him to treat you and the kids dinner later. why the fuck did he just disappear like that? now you were responsible for memorizing whatever this woman was telling you (apparently it was about an architecture summer program he was interested in— the lady was a head from his department and she was just calling to tell him that he was accepted. she says she'll be forwarding more details later through text).

"alright, thank you! i'll be sure to inform him when he gets back."

the call ended, and you groaned. you were about to close the phone, but then all of a sudden a notification appeared with a quiet ding!

[haechan 🌟 liked your retweet.]

ding!

[ohhh shit why do i feel like i know who this is.]

"huh."

you knew that you shouldn't be snooping inside your friend's phone. you knew that you shouldn't be invading his privacy no matter how enticingly juicy the bait was. you knew that it was flat out wrong. but—

"ah, just a peek," you clicked on the notification. "payback for making me deal with his stuff."

a hint of excitement rushed through you. jeno never told you his twitter. actually, you didn't even know he had one. he was always buried with studies, sports, and friends so you didn't expect him to keep up with social media— this fact enough was surprising, but the moment the screen finally loaded the tweet

you were even more surprised than you were a few seconds ago.

[@markly tweeted: "it's kind of funny how sometimes we just meet random people at the most random of moments and you don't expect it but they just end up sticking by your side until now"]

[@leejeno quoted: "yeah. a few years back, i saw this girl while i was walking. it wasn't the usual path that i took to school. i saw her having trouble crossing the street because there was a dog hanging around (she's scared of them) so i decided to help her. she couldn't even look at my face back then out of embarrassment but earlier we were calling until four in the morning. if i took a different path that day or if i didn't help her, i don't know how i'd be like right now because she's become one of the most important people in my life."]

your heart skipped a beat. two beats. three. it was running a mile a minute and you could barely even breathe to catch up.

[@do0 replied: how are you two right now?]

[@leejeno replied: "we're good haha. i'm going with her and her brother to the park later. we're still really good friends.]

[@leejeno replied: but i'm not sure if i want things to stop there."]

"hey, sorry for running off there. i went to get some— whoa. whats up?"

oh my fucking god.

you shot up, eyes wide, and you automatically turned off the phone. broken stutters left your lips, as the leaping of your heart to your throat prevented you from saying even a semblance of a coherent sentence. all you could think of when you met his worried gaze, the way he rushed to your side to check on you, was the last thing you read. your grip on his phone tightened.

but i'm not sure if i want things to stop there

you were gonna fucking lose it.

"hey, are you okay?"

quick, gentle hands landed on your cheeks, fingers brushing against your skin like a match igniting a flame. you nearly got lost and tongue-tied all over again, but you quickly slapped his hands away in a scolding fit. "jesus christ, i'm fine. you just surprised me. are you a ghost or something?" you glared at jeno, but it only lasted one second because you couldn't bear to look at him without your insides going crazy. because of that, your eyes flicked to the plastic bag he dropped onto the bench. he brought you something to eat.

"a-and before you ask—" you defended yourself indignantly when he didn't even accuse you of anything. "i wasn't snooping. the school called. it was about your summer program. you got in."

"oh? they called already?" you nodded. "ah, let's talk while walking— the kids are mad because i only got you food. they're asking me to buy the entire store for them to compensate," he released an airy laugh. you mentally scolded yourself.

keep it cool. you repeated the mantra inside your head as you strided beside jeno, your brother and cousin racing ahead of you. street lights were lighting up and the sky was fading into the night. cool cool cool cool cool. keep it cool.

the walk to the store felt way too gruelling than it normally would. it wasn't even that far. you told jeno everything the lady had told you, including the more detailed texts that she'd be sending later on. you thought that he'd be a lot more excited after hearing— he was interested, after all. but to you, he just seemed dismissive. "should i go?" he mindlessly asked.

"what are you talking about?" your brows furrowed. "yeah, of course. you wanted to, right?"

"but it's gonna last an entire month this summer," he yawed, stretching out his arms and hooking you by the neck, causing you to halt and stumble into him. you held back a squeak, and he looked at you, eyes gleaming with curious anticipation. a car sped by. "you still want me to go?"

those damned words that you read echoed inside your head again. you wondered if it resonated into the fucking nerves of your heart, as well.

"i—i mean," you stammered. "it's only one month. and it would also help you a lot in the future, right? you'd make a lot of connections during the camp. so yeah, i do want you to go."

he blinked at you. a hum sounded from his closed lips. he let go of you and resumed walking. you gaped when he left you behind.

was this karma?

"hey, what the hell?" quickly, you caught up to him, grabbing onto the sleeve of his shirt so that you could hang on to him. "why are you being sulky? i didn't do anything wrong!" technically you did do something wrong, but he didn't have to know that.

"you said you wanted me to go."

"you're a baby," you scrunched your nose is disapproval. "i only said that because you said you wanted to go."

jeno abruptly stopped. maybe you were causing a scene in front of all the passersby, but you really didn't give a fuck anymore when your head was in a looped up mess. all thanks to your extremely difficult friend who apparently doesn't want to just be your friend. you swore that he was driving you insane on purpose.

he pulled out his phone and faced the screen to you. your sweat dropped.

[@leejeno replied: but i'm not sure if i want things to stop there."]

"even after reading this," he started. "you still want me to go?"

"w-well."

he just had to be so fucking sharp. well, you weren't exactly slick either. maybe he saw a glimpse of the screen before you got to turn it off earlier. heat started to rise from your neck into your face, a grinding mixture of embarrassment and desire to be hit by a moving truck afflicting your nerves. why were you the one suffering? shouldn't it be him?

"no."

he hummed, turning off his phone and shoving the device into his pocket. arms crossed, he leaned in to your face, bearing a look of feigned innocence. "but you said i'd make a lot of useful connections."

"you can make those anywhere."

"and it's only a month, right?"

"that's thirty days too long."

"and—"

"oh, come on!" you exclaimed, balling your fists in vexation. another car sped by with an accompanied honk. jeno simply wore a look of faint amusement at your little outburst. "i don't want you to join your stupid summer program. happy now?"

"well, if you say so."

you stared at him. he patted your head, eyes disappearing into a pair of crescents with a smile.

"i'll take your word for it and no one else's."

you were left frozen and dumbfounded in the middle of the sidewalk as jeno brazenly spun his heels to chase after the runaway kids that went before you— literally leaving you behind. letting a curse slip past your breath, you also went after them. he was definitely driving you insane on purpose.

sometimes you wondered if this was the same boy who helped you cross the street the first time you met.

this was one of those times.

"you said you weren't gonna go, you asshole!"

"payback for snooping through my phone!"

but you could still love him nonetheless.

© hannie-dul-set, 2020.

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

BTS Reaction: The first time they are intimate with you

Namjoon

He would like the spontaneity. When the time was right, you both would just take things as they would go naturally. It’s a few weeks into your relationship. Namjoon wanted to go on an early morning hike with you and as much as you disliked being outside in the cold, you couldn’t deny that sipping on hot chocolate and watching the sunrise together sounded like the perfect way to spend your morning. It was a little colder than you both anticipated, so you decided to stay in the car and watch the sunrise with the warmth of the heater blowing on the two of you. You sip your drink until the sky becomes bathed in different hues of gold and pink. 

“It’s beautiful. Thank you for inviting me, Namjoon.” But when you turn to look at him you find he’s not looking at the sky at all, but at you. He’s taken with your beauty. The way the sun is shining on your skin is literally making you glow like an angel. And it’s in that moment that he thinks now is the right time. He sets his cup down and takes yours to set them both in the holder. The look in his eyes tells you all you need to know. You both lean in at the same time and a fire immediately ignites in both of you as your lips connect. His hands ghost down to the hem of your shirt and he begins to lift it over your head. His lips immediately drift down to your chest as he starts leaving love bites in his wake. 

“N-Namjoon, back seat. Move. Now.” He pulls away and lets out a snicker.

“Someone is impatient.” 

“Well who’s fault is that? Maybe you shouldn’t so damn handsome and such a good kisser, hmm?” He laughs a little louder at that and playfully smacks your butt as you’re climbing into the back. 

“You know this isn’t exactly how I’d imagine our first intimate moment together being like.” You blush in embarrassment for a moment at his words. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. As long as it’s with you, that’s all that matters to me.” Even though there is a possibility of someone else seeing you two, you take your time with one another. Exploring each other’s bodies, what makes the other tick. By the time you’re done you are both spent, slowly drifting off to sleep as he covers you both up with a blanket he put in the back incase you got cold on your hike, and hoping to whatever deity is listening that the windows are tinted enough that no one will be able to see the both of you.

Jin

Jin had texted you earlier and asked you to come over to his apartment for a ‘surprise’. You had no idea what was in store for you. The last time that happened you were cleaning flour out of your hair for days, having become a victim of another one of his pranks. Jin was always very playful with you. So when you got a text just asking you to come over because it was very important, you didn’t hesitate to drop everything you had planned to go be with him. You walked into his apartment and it was pitch black, save for a soft glow that was coming from the living room. 

“Jin?” 

“In here, baby!” You walk into the room and find that the soft glow is coming from a pillow and blanket fort decorated with fairy lights. 

“Love, what is all this? Oh my goodness!” You take in the sight around you. The lights are twinkling like stars in the night sky, your favorite fluffy blanket of his makes up the flooring, and he’s stuffed the fort absolutely full with pillows. In the center of all this, sits your boyfriend with a single red rose in his mouth, and other petals scattered about the blankets and pillows. He winks at you suggestively and you bring a hand up to your mouth to stifle your laugh. He pats the spot next to him and you walk over to lay down next to him. He takes the rose out of his mouth and hands it to you. 

“A beautiful flower for my beautiful flower, y/n.” You blush but take the rose and smile up at him. 

“So what’s the occasion?” 

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“Okay.” You sit up but he gently pushes you to lay back down. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him so your back is against his chest. A kiss is placed on the top of your head. 

“So we’ve been together for a while now. Almost a year.” 

“Mhm.” His fingers are running through your hair now and you feel yourself starting to drift off. 

“And I really want to show you how serious I am about you. I trust you with my heart. And I’m ready to give it to you completely.” Your eyes snap open and you turn around so you’re facing him. 

“Do you mean that?”

“Every word. I just.. want to thank you for being patient with me and waiting until I was ready. It’s not that I didn’t trust you! It’s just... in my line of work you tend to get used a lot and I was afraid. I didn’t want it to happen again.” Your heart aches at his confession. 

“Of course. I’m in it for the long haul, you’re stuck with me.” 

“That’s all I could ever want. You by my side, knowing that my heart will always be safe...” He fidgets with the sleeve of his sweater, picking at a loose string as if he’s nervous to meet your gaze.  “Can we?” 

“Yes.” You nod your consent and his lips barely brush against yours. He takes his time with you, loving you and completely worshipping every inch of you. 

Yoongi

Yoongi has wanted to take your relationship forward for a while now. But he wasn’t going to make the first move because he didn’t want you to feel pressured, he would take this at your pace, until you were comfortable enough with him. 

You were at the studio with him, loving to just sit and watch him create music. He often would ask for your input and opinions and you were all too happy to give them, feeling honored that you got to hear the songs he was working on before anyone else. He’s in the middle of finishing up his latest song for his mixtape when you say something that nearly makes him choke on his coffee.

“Yoongi do you think I’m attractive?” He almost thinks he must not have heard you correctly, so he asks you to repeat yourself. 

“W-what did you say?”

“I asked if you think I am attractive.” 

“What kind of- Are you kidding? You’re the most beautiful and sexy person I have ever seen in my life and I am so happy to call you mine.”

“Then why do you never, you know.. take things farther? When we kiss and it gets even the least bit heated you pull away and ruffle my hair and kiss my forehead. Everytime.” 

He’s stunned at your words. He didn’t realize you had been feeling this way and he feels awful. “You think I don’t want you?”

“I mean I know you love me but.. I just don’t know if you think I am pretty enough to-” 

“Stop it. Come here.” He pats his lap and you move off the couch to straddle his hips. He grips yours tightly and before you can speak another word his lips are on yours like a man starved. You barely have time to breathe for a second as his lips seem to refuse to leave yours. He pulls away to finally give you a break and when he does, he has that signature smirk on his face that makes your stomach clench. 

“Let me show you just how much I’ve wanted my hands on you, from the start.”

Yoongi puts as much fire and passion if not more than he does into his music. He’s rough with you, leaving marks visible on your neck and marks on your hips from how tightly he’s holding onto you. Wanting you to see evidence for weeks of just how much he wants you. Afterwards he’s like a completely different person. Having gone completely pliant for you. He clings tightly to you like a koala, refusing to let you go even to get dressed. He’s going to make damn sure you feel loved appreciated. 

Hoseok

You went to the studio with Hoseok to watch him perform the new choreography he was working on. You absolutely loved watching him dance. He put every bit of passion he had in him into his dance and it showed. By the intense expression on his face, by the way he kept dancing even after he was drenched in sweat, by the way that even when his brows were furrowed in concentration you could see a smile behind his eyes with the way they shined. He was totally in his element and you would forever be grateful to get to see him like this in a way most people never got to. 

This dance was a little... different from the others he had shown you. The way he was moving his hips was leaving little to your imagination. It was like he was purposely trying to seduce you, and it was working. You found yourself gravitating towards him without even realizing it and before long you were standing flush up against his back, arms snaking around his waist. 

“Hoseok did you invite me here to try and have your way with me?” He laughs at that and turns around in your hold. 

“Hmm.. well it wasn’t my sole intention. But I found myself thinking if this lead to other things... I can’t say I would mind.” He says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. You playfully smack his chest and laugh along with him. “I mean it’s only fair! This is the place where I do what I love most everyday, it only makes sense that you should be added to that.” His expression darkens and your laughter immediately ceases as his lips crash onto yours. 

The tension had been building up between the two of you long enough, and you both reached your release quickly. Laying on the floor, the only sound being both of your heavy breaths filling the room. 

“That was.. wow.”

“Yeah, wow.”

“You up for round 2, sweetheart?” 

Jimin

It was pretty early on in your relationship when you and Jimin were intimate for the first time. He naturally showed his love and affection for others through touches, cuddles, hugs, and kisses. So when he quickly fell for you he wasted no time in making sure that you knew that. You were both laying on your side on his bed, facing each other. He had a hand resting gently on your waist as he rubbed circles with his thumb onto your side. Every once in a while he would lean in and place kisses on your nose, cheeks, and forehead making you let out light breaths of laughter. 

“You’re so beautiful you know that?”

“Hmm, I think you may told me that a time or two.” 

“And you’re so cute. I love your laugh. It’s my favorite sound in the world.” 

“Jimin...” Your eyes soften and you lean in and finally connect your lips together His fingers immediately grasp you a little tighter and pull you closer. 

“I just really really like you y/n. I’ve never fallen for someone this quickly before and I don’t quite know what to do. It’s scary.” You cup his face in your hands and lightly kiss his cheeks.

“You don’t have to be afraid. I really like you too. And for the record I also think your laugh is the best sound in the world. And you’re really beautiful too.” Things just naturally fall into place after that. Jimin is gentle with you, but every bit as passionate. He is a dancer after all, and he is going to put those hips to work to make sure you would never want to be with anyone else ever again, that you will never doubt just how strong his feelings for you are becoming. Afterwards he’s very clingy, refusing to leave your side or let you go. He’s still laying on top of you, pressing kisses over your chest and neck. 

“Jimin you’re gonna get me all riled up again, stop it.” 

“What if that’s my intention?”

“Oh my gosh you are insatiable we already went at it twice. My thighs hurt.” He chuckles at you and leans down to kiss right where you just said was aching. He feels the muscles twitch under his lips. “Jimin!”

“I know, angel I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I just want to make sure this is real. You’re actually here and I’m not just imagining it. Sometimes I think you’re too perfect and I just made you up.” He rolls off of you and lays on his side, gazing at you with wide, wondering eyes. 

“I can assure you this is very real. I am real. My love for you is real. And nothing is ever going to change that or make it fade.” 

Taehyung

Taehyung had everything planned. You two had been together for a few months now, and even if it wasn’t very long, he knew. You were it for him. He wanted everything to be perfect. So he planned a very nice romantic night out for the two of you. There was an overlook he had found when he had gone on an early morning hike with Namjoon for a Run punishment, and when he saw it he knew he wanted to take you there. He had packed a basket for the two of you with your favorite snacks and a bottle of wine to share. He had the blanket spread out and fluffed up all the pillows. You two spent the evening sharing stories with each other and making one another laugh. That was what you always loved about yours and Taehyung’s relationship. It was as easy as breathing, completely natural. And you both were head over heels for one another and could feel the love shared between you two with a single glance. 

As the night was winding down and moon was shining on you, he found himself absolutely taken with your beauty and couldn’t help himself. He wanted to wait until you two got home, but seeing how you looked right now in this moment he knew he wasn’t going to be able to wait that long. He’s a patient man, but even he has his limits. You saw the change in his expression, from sweet and gentle to passionate with his pupils blown with want for you. 

“Y/n I love you. More than anything in this world and I want to show you just how much. Is that okay?” He tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls you close to him, connecting your lips together at last. When you pull away you’re breathless. He’s staring at you, waiting for your consent to take things further. 

“I love you too. And I am more than okay with that. Make me yours, Tae. Please.” 

He’s gentle and sweet with you, pouring every ounce of love he has for you in every kiss, every touch. He takes his time with you, wanting to savor every moment and commit everything to memory. The way you sound, the way you taste, the way you look at him like he’s your entire world. And he’s looking right back at you the same way.

Jungkook

When Jungkook invited you over to watch a movie with him, he wasn’t planning for things to have escalated the way that they did. One minute you were laughing at something funny the main character had said as he admired your laugh and how beautiful you looked with your head thrown back, a fit of giggles escaping your lips. The next you were under him breathing heavily and moaning his name. He froze at that, lifting himself up to hover over you. 

“I-I’m sorry! Is this okay? I didn’t even ask, I just sort of pounced on you.” You giggle and rest your hand on his cheek, trying to set his mind at ease. 

“It’s okay. I want this just as much as you do.” 

“A-are you sure? Like, really sure? I.. I don’t want you to feel like you have to or anything. We can wait for another time I mean, it’s not a special occasion or anniversary or a-anythi-” You cut off his rambling with a gentle kiss to his lips and he seems to relax, his arms giving out as he rests himself back on top of you. 

“Are you nervous? You tend to talk really fast and stutter when you are.” 

“A little. Yes. Okay a lot.” 

“Why?”

“Because it’s just.. it’s you. You’re perfect and beautiful and amazing in every way.” 

“And like you said, it’s just me. You don’t have to be nervous around me. I’ll take care of you.” His cheeks flush as he nods and rolls over onto his back, tugging you with him to straddle his hips. He tries to hide his face, suddenly feeling quite shy but you aren’t having it, tugging his arms away and placing them over his head. 

“Those stay up.” 

“Sure thing boss.” You giggle and lean down to kiss him. Things quickly turn heated after that as you set the pace you’re comfortable with. Jungkook completely lets you take over, wanting nothing more than to make you feel good above all else. 

[my18thcenturysource]

Costume Analysis: Kitty, from BBC Ghosts.

Show: BBC Ghosts, Series 1.

Character: Kitty, played by Lolly Adefope.

Costume Design: Lucy Williams.

Set: 18th century England (for this particular character)

Yeii!! The long awaited and asked for post about Kitty IS FINALLY HERE. I’m so sorry for the wait XD I just wrote and lost this post so many times that I just could not post it properly! Sorry!

ANYWAY, let’s start with saying that Lolly Adefope is PERFECT in this role: she sweet and hilarious. Love her.

Now, let’s take a look at her general look: she’s wearing a purple robe à l’anglaise, with an open front, matching stomacher, and contrasting petticoat. The decorations on the gown match the petticoat, so it’s a nice colour play to see on the screen. She shows the lace engageantes (cuffs) coming out of the sleeves, and wears a semi-sheer fichu to cover her cleavage.

Thanks to the robes à l’anglaise and à la française post we all know that the front of Kitty’s dress could look different, but the chosen option is perfectly ok, and we also know that this dress evolved from the mantua with its back fitted with pleats) and became a very English gown, so the choice works great (even though I live for a French gown, this was the right choice). Judging by the gown’s silhouette and the hairstyle, Kitty died sometime in the 1760s or early 1770s.

That being said, let’s take a look at some more detailed takes (I might be too picky, sorry) about this whole outfit that I find odd and would like to change:

The fit. Somehow it looks that this dress is not structured enough nor fit properly for the actress, just looking at the way that the shape of her breasts is visible on the sides, or the way that the front curves inward at the top of the stomacher, is really weird. I really REALLY hope that the body shape of Lolly Adefope was not an excuse for this shitty fit because SHE PERFECT, OK? Now, What would I do? I’d lower the neckline of the stomacher to give the gown a more accurate feel for the 18th century, and keep the fichu covering the skin. I’d add fully boned stays to give the torso de proper conical shape, and (bigger) panniers to create the more striking contrast that is characteristic of the 18th century silhouette.

The trims. The trims are ridiculously small. The 18th century was all about go big or go home, so why do I see pleated satin RIBBON as the zig-zaging decoration of the torso, VERY small bows for the stomacher, and ridiculously tiny bows on the cuffs? WHY?!

As a fashion designer, you are to give balance to the garment, and of course to the garment ON a particular person. So, instead of the pleated ribbon, I’d let the big vertical pleats of the front to show themselves (I think they look pretty!), I’d make big bows of the same fabric for the stomacher, add a big ruffle on the sides of the front opening of skirt of the gown, and eliminate the cuff bow and just let the cuff show its pleats. I personally prefer everything on the same fabric, but if the camera reads better a contrasting petticoat and trims, go for them! JUST MAKE THEM BIGGER. I’d take the front of this dress as an inspiration:

Robe à la française, 1760s, Fashion Museum Bath.

The fabric. For a spectacular 18th century gown, the fabric is VERY important, especially if a brocade is going to be used. The purple fabric on this gown is small and kind of sad, since 18th century brocades tend to have bigger and/or contrasting motives. So, If a wonderful fabric is not to be found, I would stick to plain taffeta, since it looks great, is accurate, there are many colours to choose from, it’s very noble to sew, holds the shapes perfectly, all pleats look great, and (important for costume design), it can be found in several price points.

I perfectly understand the choice of avoiding any flashy fabrics or colours for Kitty (given her character), so I get the lack of colourful brocade, painted silk or stripes, so the right choice would be plain taffeta if a good brocade of a single colour is not found. Here some brocade ideas:

robe à l’anglaise, ca. 1747, altered 1770s // robe à l’anglaise, 1750-75 // robe à l’anglaise, ca. 1770 // robe à l’anglaise, 1740-60 // all British, all from The Metropolitan Museum of Art

The cuffs. I don’t hate the cuffs of the dress, and I like that they match the pleats of the open front, but I’d add a second row for the lace cuffs. It looks poor, or too small for the outfit.

Finally, let’s jump to beauty:

Hair. I LOVE THE HAIR. And I love that they used the natural texture of Black hair for the hairstyle (I think that the front puff is her hair and the rest is not, since the colour is different). Making her to wear a full wig with a hairstyle clearly referenced on White people’s hair would have been an easy (and lazy) choice, so I’m very happy they didn’t. They took good note of the choices made in Belle (2013) with Gugu Mbatha-Raw’s hairstyles, and made it work for  Lolly Adefope curlier and shorter hair.

Now, the secret for the death date of Kitty I give above is mostly her hairstyle, which is clearly from the 1760s or the first part of the 70s (before they went crazy with the size and height of hair). During the 1760s, the hair began to get higher (being about ¼ or ½ the length of the face), and it was styled in a relatively simple way in an egg shape an added a few decorations, like ribbons, pearls, flowers and feathers.

Portrait of a woman, ab. 1760-1780, Alessandro Longhi // Marie Suzanne Giroust Roslin,1770, Alexander Roslin // Maria Carolina de Habsburgo-Lorena, 1768, Anton Rafael Mengs // Portrait of Marie Antoinette, 1773, François-Hubert Drouais

Makeup. The makeup is clearly thought to appeal to a modern audience, so it’s pretty natural and rosy, which works for the character and the overall look of the show. Would I prefer a more accurate and extreme make? Not really? It doesn’t look like Kitty died during a party night or something like that, so having her with minimal makeup makes sense, and also the historical makeup would totally change the perception we as audience have of Kitty, since it’s much more exaggerated than our modern makeup.

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

So, what do you all think? Was a little too picky? I mean, I hope I didn’t become one of those anal people who demand historical accuracy in media that is not required to. I try (with all my costume critiques) to step into the mind and work of a costume designer and improve the costumes through those lenses.

Thinking about what the costumes are for (tell us about the character, define the character aesthetic as an individual and within the show, set the time and place), the costume design of the show do all those things in a proper manner, so I think we can play and get a little picky with the details and how much we would like to make the show look better :)

Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

Let me know your comments in a reblog or comment or ask or message XD

[samanthadalton]

Can you write fanfic ina x mc, mc teach ina how to cook? Your works are great💖 Thank you❣️

aww thank you anon for this idea i really loved it 🥺🥺

parings: Ina x mc (Bea)

warnings: implied sex but mostly just fluff i guess

taglist: @cloud9in

word count: 2.2k 😬 i got carried away

(if there any mistakes i’ll fix it later)

A recipe for disaster

After the convention, things between you and Ina couldn’t have been better. Even though your relationship was hidden from everyone else, Ina finally stopped closing herself off and pushing you away and you couldn’t be happier. You and Ina stole moments after class, where you would stay behind to help ‘clean up’ or moments in her office where you would do anything but work.

One day you randomly decided to teach Ina how to cook since the first time resulted in her totally butchering your ‘I’m sorry you had a crazy stalker dinner’ by letting the sauce of the pasta explode on her. You texted Ina, ‘‼️EMERGENCY COME TO MY DORM‼️’ and never had Ina run so fast in her life, throwing all her papers to the floor in her office, and dashing to your dorm worried that it was another Benji situation. How she managed to get there undetected by the other students is a complete mystery as when she approached the door of your dorm she banged heavily screaming out your name.

You rush towards the door and swing it open to find a wide eyed Ina, her hair slightly ruffled, sweat marginally glistening on her forehead, and her breaths heavy. Before you can speak, she barges into the room,, “So.. what’s.. the .. emergency?” She takes a quick breath between each word as she frantically looks around your dorm room until you can’t help but let out a laugh.

“Jesus Ina, I don’t think the whole dorm heard you shouting my name, why don’t you scream louder?” your voice dripping with sarcasm with a hint of playfulness. Ina turns to face you and sees your eyes gleaming with admiration as flustered Ina is incredibly cute. Ina slightly frowns and closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in. “Bea… is there an emergency or not?”

You guilty stare down at the floor, “well, um not exactly the kind of emergency you’re thinking, but i swear it’s important” you pick your head back up to look at Ina who is massaging her temples with her fingers, “dammit Bea I literally ditched my grading and ran here, what if someone saw me?” she continues to berate you as she goes on about her publisher and her deadlines but stops talking when you slide a finger seductively down her arm.

“I’m sorry Ina” you pout a little giving your best puppy dog eyes look and lean in to whisper in the shell of her ear, “Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

Ina’s breathing shakes a little as you nibble on her earlobe and she places her hands and your hips and pushes you back slightly to meet her eyes which look less angry and more turned on and she completely ditches her earlier rant, “hmm, what were you thinking?”

Okay she definitely wants to do it right here right now but you mentally remind yourself that you’re on a mission to teach Ina how to cook so you place your thumb on her lower lip and begin to trace the outline of it, “well I was thinking of teaching you a lesson”

Ina perks up at the word “lesson” and you forget that she is wayyy too kinky for her own good. Her eyebrow raises a little and the grip on your waist tightens as her voice drops to a low murmur, “what kind of lesson?”

You lean in slightly teasing her as your breath ghosts above her lips, “a..... cooking lesson” you move your head back and take in Ina’s slightly disappointed but confused look.

“Bea, uh may I remind you of the last time I tried to cook, it didn’t end up so well”

“Well I remember getting you half naked and getting a massage so” Ina sighs heavily and before she can speak, because knowing Ina she’s probably against the idea of a cooking lesson you carry on speaking, “look I know what you’re gonna say and please, do it for me,” You once again pout your lips and stare at Ina hoping she falls prey to your charms as she usually does, “I’ll be guiding you the entire time,” you turn to face the kitchen counter and raise your arm to point at the ingredients placed upon it, something Ina definitely didn’t notice when she first came in. “Pleaseeeee Ina i’ve literally been planning this and it will be so cute.”

“And how exactly would it be cute?”

“I don’t know, i guess fulfilling a domestic fantasy of mine, cooking alongside the person i’m with while we spoon feed each other and all that romantic stuff”

Ina softy sighs and gives you a chaste kiss on your cheek, “fine but don’t blame me when this all goes south, I told you my kitchen skills are abysmal”

You laugh and being to tug her arm towards the kitchen and you place a cute blue apron around Ina’s head and move behind her to tie it up, “Just a precaution, we don’t want a repeat of last time”. Ina playfully swats at your arm and grins, “so what are we making?”

“My favourite comfort food ever, lasagna. My mom used to make it for me all the time back at home especially during times when I wasn’t feeling well or wasn’t having a good day. Lasagna always cheers me up. Well that and pizza.”

Ina stares at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world and then takes one of your hands in hers, “well I’m honoured you’re teaching me to make it, I hope I do it justice.”

You being to prep Ina on the basics of lasagna telling her “it’s all about the layers and cheese. Cheese is the most important part of this dish”.

You start by washing the minced meat as Ina begins to dice carrots, mushrooms, onions, and defrosts peas and sweet corn before washing them all and placing it in a bowl.

“Okay so we gotta cook the meat and the vegetables for a while and then we are going to add in the seasonings and the sauce and let it cook” you stifle a laugh, “make sure to not get it on yourself this time”.

Ina gives out a hearty laugh and shakes her head, “God i’m so embarrassed by that but you better watch out for when I become a culinary master”. She flourishes her arms a little and you retort, “not really a master when you can’t cook pasta”. She laughs and pinches some cheese from one of the bowls and flicks it at you.

You barely manage to dodge it, and your eyes glimmer devishly, “Oh it’s on now”. You and Ina begin to throw cheese at each other until Ina grabs your hands and intertwines your fingers before pulling you towards her, “I didn’t give you a proper thank you for teaching me how to cook” she kisses you sweetly on your lips.

“Well it’s pretty obvious you need to learn, and if we’re going to be together then you need to know how to cook my favourite comfort food at least”.

Ina intensely stares at you, her eyes full of desire and longing, she kisses you again, harder than the last one and the passion between the two of you quickly builds until you’re interrupted by the clanging on the lid against the pot as the water begins to bubble out of it.

“Crap” you quickly move toward the stove turning the heat down a little to let the meat simmer and then dramatically swipe your hand against your forehead, “that would’ve been a disaster, come on stop distracting me, you’re gonna let the food burn”.

“I’m sure the head chef isn’t easily distracted by a few kisses huh?” Ina moves towards you, pulling into another kiss. You indulge in it for a few more moments before pulling away, “nice try but I’ll make sure you know how to cook lasagna even if it’s the last thing I do” you push Ina back a little and she simply smiles.

.....

The two of you carry on cooking the meat and soon it’s time for you to begin layering the lasagna to get it ready for the oven.

“Okay like I said before it’s all about the layers” you give Ina a little demonstration, placing the pasta sheets next to each other before adding some white sauce and cheese and then repeating the step differentiating between using the red and white sauce.

Ina’s fully focused at the task at hand, attempting to perfect the “art of layering” as she called it placing the sauce and cheese in precise places until it’s ready to be put into the oven.

You grab the oven gloves and place the tray inside before closing the over door and turning to Ina, “and that’s pretty much it, it just needs to cook so we can relax for the next 45 minutes”.

Ina groans happily as she slides onto the couch and you pour two glasses of wine and make your way to the living room and give one glass to Ina before settling on the couch yourself.

“Cooking isn’t as hard as I thought it would be, in fact it’s kind of relaxing” Ina takes a small sip of her wine and you can’t help but just stare at her features, her sleeves are rolled up and small drops of sweat glisten on her face, most likely from withstanding the heat from the kitchen. Her lips are curled up in a small smile as she grips her wine glass.

“You’re a natural professor, it makes me wonder if there’s anything you can’t do” You pluck the glass from her hand and place both on the table in front of you and then you move to straddle her.

Ina runs her hands up and down your sides drinking in your demeanour as she tugs the front on your top down and whispers in your ear, “Well right now I want to do you.” She sharply inhales before clearing her throat, “I admit that sounded better in my head than out loud”. You laugh and kiss Ina indulging in her desires as she releases all the pent up sexual tension between the two of you that occurred while you were cooking.

....

A little while later you stand and move towards the hall, “I really gotta go to the bathroom so if the timer goes off Ina just take the tray out of the oven and place it on the stove okay?”

Ina gives you a nod as you go into the bathroom. Not a second later the timer beeps and Ina gets up to take out the lasagna.

While you’re washing your hands you hear a loud clang and you quickly dry your hands and run towards the kitchen. You stop in your tracks when you see Ina kneeling on the floor with the tray of lasagna flipped upside beside her knees while some of it’s contents have splattered all over the floor and somehow on the bottom drawers too.

You bring a hand up to your mouth to cover your gawking while Ina stares devastatingly at the food in front of her, “Bea I am terribly sorry, I didn’t realise how heavy it was and it slipped out of my hands, i-“

You move towards Ina and kneel beside her slipping the oven mitts off her hands, tears glisten in her eyes and you can’t help but giggle a little, “Wow Ina, I mean I knew you were bad at cooking I just didn’t realise you were this bad, I mean the food was practically ready”. You joking tone helps to alleviate some of the worry on Ina’s face but she looks down at the ground again and sighs.

“Hey, I was just kidding Ina seriously it’s okay” you place two fingers under her chin and lift her head to meet your gaze, “seriously I don’t care about the lasagna, I mean we had fun making it didn’t we?”

“Yes I suppose we did. I just wish we were able to enjoy the fruits of our labour.”

You give Ina a quick peck on her lips and whisper, “well how about we order in a pizza and then we can start cleaning up this mess?”. Ina lets out a small laugh, “Well ordering pizza, that I can do without fail”.

You manage to clean up every precipice of the kitchen that was covered in sauce and then you and Ina cuddle up beside each other enjoying your pizza while you put on a random movie to watch.

“I am sorry I messed it up Bea, if I had correctly estimated the heaviness of the tray then I could’ve-

You cut her off with a kiss which she happily returns, you break the kiss and place your forehead against hers, as your eyes bore into hers, “Ina seriously it’s okay, I had fun with you this afternoon and that’s all that matters, maybe next time we’ll do something less complex like burgers?”

You both smile and settle into the couch enjoying both the pizza and each other’s company.

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

For obvious reasons, I’ve been poking around my MSA folder again. This is an old piece (circa 2016/pre-Hellbent) that I think is interesting, but that I know I’m never going to finish. It’s piecemeal, but hopefully there’s enough to enjoy!

The problem with being a supernatural entity on a team of paranormal investigators was that, inevitably, someone would figure something out.

That was hardly an issue for Mystery these days, since his status was something of an open secret among his humans (both living and deceased), but it did make things uncomfortable around other groups.

Such was the case now, and he watched silently, head cocked to the side in classic canine fashion, as a woman whispered something urgently to Vivi. She was hardly subtle about it, the way her eyes kept darting over to him, and, privately, he wondered why she even bothered keeping up the pretense if she honestly thought he was more than just a dog. Certainly she realized that any sentient being would recognize when they were being talked about.

Whatever the blonde said, Vivi laughed it off and made a sweeping gesture, trying to dismiss it. To Mystery, it was painfully obvious that the other woman had hit upon the truth, but, then again, he knew her. The stranger didn't look entirely convinced, but nodded and walked away-- though not without glancing back at them over her shoulder.

Perhaps trying to sell the part, Vivi closed the gap between herself and Mystery to ruffle his ears. He thumped his tail against the ground a handful of times and nipped at her sleeve.

---

Mystery raised his head in satisfaction, preening under the woman's incredulous gaze. It was put to an abrupt end, though, when one of the other investigators screamed. There was an answering gasp from behind them and, without looking, he realized what had happened. Everyone had been so focused on the main problem that--

"Aw, shit." Arthur breathed, looking at the empty air over his shoulder.

"I can't believe we forgot about that."

---

"Lewis, I truthfully do not care how that spell affected your projection, and if you had any common sense, you would realize why that is. If we don't get out of here right now, one of those ghost hunters is liable to catch you, and then what? We may know you're harmless, but I can guarantee that they won't take so kindly to the idea." / "Don't make us tell your family that you're gone again. Not over something so minor."

And, finally, the ghost relented.

While he'd already had a good idea what the spell had done, Mystery hadn't thought to prepare himself for the impact the glamour failure would have. He'd had all the information, true, but it didn't always play nice with the memory of his humans, and seeing Lewis as he'd been at the moment of his death was surprisingly difficult.

Perhaps guessing as much, Lewis raised his arms to block the worst of the fatal wound from view.

It was a nice gesture, but, ultimately, pointless.

"Come, now." Mystery whispered, dismissing the urge to say as much, "The plan is to meet Arthur and Vivi at the main road and leave before any of our friends here think to ask any more questions. I thought it best to let them do the convincing without any-- ah-- 'suspicious' influence, and, unfortunately, that means you and me."

He set off at a brisk pace, trusting the ghost to follow in his (ahem) wake. If it had been Vivi or even Arthur, Mystery might have been more inclined to keep an eye on them for fear of someone getting sidetracked or sheer dumb luck putting them in a tight spot, but Lewis floated dutifully along, still awkwardly trying to hide the bloody hole in his chest.

Maybe it was silly,  but Mystery had to wonder at irony of the situation. Ignoring all signs of death and his own aura, what would the outside observer see? A dog calling the shots and a young man following them. It fit, he supposed; of his humans, Lewis had always been the most agreeable.  

He snuck a sideways glance, eyes lingering on the gap that had torn halfway through the ghost's throat, and turned away so Lewis wouldn't notice the resultant grimace. Without knowing the specifics of the spell, there was no way to tell how long it would interfere with the ability to project an aura that wasn't so… gruesome. For a group of inexperienced youths, the range would be limited, but whether it was a matter of time, distance or any other variable was a complete unknown. If worst came to worst, there was sure to be a counter-spell somewhere, but that wasn't an ideal solution.

Mystery was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost yelped when a finger hooked under his collar and a steady arm swept him up, deeper into the undergrowth. While he refrained from doing anything quite so undignified, he was hardly thrilled with his new position a good five feet in the air, being held like no more than a puppy against Lewis's side.

With the clumsy crashing that sounded from up ahead, he recognized why the ghost had seen fit to make them scarce, but he was fairly certain that there were other ways to accomplish the same goal. Dryly, he looked up to see what Lewis had to say for himself, but all he got was a nearly inaudible "I panicked."

Mystery exhaled slowly and squirmed until he was set back on the ground, by which point the dull beam of a flashlight made its way along the main path, illuminating each tree in turn.

"--sure, Abby? If it could fool paranormal investigators for so long, it has to be a powerful spirit. The closest we've ever come to an actual haunting was just psychic residue; are we really ready for this?"

A pair of girls strode into view, the speaker nervously sweeping the flashlight's beam from side to side while her companion chewed on a strand of hair, eyes raised to the barren canopy in thought, where they reflected the scant moonlight.

"Your eyes." Mystery hissed in sudden alarm. When he looked up, the offending glow was focused on him. "They'll see--"

A piercing yelp suggested that his warning had come a fraction of a second too late. Had they not been sneaking through a woods pursued by excitable ghost hunters, it would have been funny how Lewis not only closed his eyes, but covered them with both hands and whirled around to face the opposite direction, the same way he'd play hide-and-seek with his sisters. As it stood, Mystery had more pressing matters to deal with, mostly concerning the pair of young women brandishing a flashlight in their general direction.

Though, if he knew humans-- specifically paranormal investigators-- well enough, there was one easy solution that came to mind. Admittedly, it had Vivi written all over it, but of everything Mystery could call himself in this form, A Very Loyal Dog was high on the list; it would be a gamble, but he felt it would be worth it.

In one fluid motion, he leapt away from Lewis and landed lightly several feet away. His impact with the ground made a satisfying crackle as the dry debris gave way beneath his paws, drawing the light off course towards where he was hidden.

"W-what was that?"

"Definitely not what we're looking for." The second girl sighed after a second to process the emptiness, though her expression was fixed firmly between relief and panic. "You see how high up those eyes were? You probably scared a raccoon with that flashlight 'a yours; you're deadly with that thing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. What kind of ghost kicks up a racket like that?"

The ghost in question was still hiding the glow of his eyes, but the way he had his shoulders hunched up told Mystery that his little stunt had successfully scared Lewis. Good. That made them even.

He crept nearer, any noise camouflaged by the way their would-be pursuers trundled along in the opposite direction, and brushed lightly against Lewis's leg to announce his presence.

"Sorry, I panicked."

Lewis cracked one eye open and gave Mystery an unimpressed look, but didn't bother to say anything about the transparent jab. That was another crisis averted-- if a minor one, compared to what had already happened-- and there was no use in arguing with results.

Neither breathed another word as they continued towards the grove's edge or even for the first few minutes that they idled at the tree line.

Ears swiveling as he listened for any suggestion of human activity, Mystery kept his eyes on the vehicle parked further up the road. It was likely where the two women they'd encountered had entered from, but it wasn't exactly empty; the cab light diffused into the darkness, revealing the vague outline of a person hunched over a book. Despite himself, Mystery's mind wandered to Arthur's crusade to keep Vivi from draining the van's battery the same way-- which had, more or less, devolved into convincing her to drape herself over Lewis instead.

Not that she needed any excuse.

Speaking of Lewis, he had been assigned look out duty. This served two purposes: one was so they'd actually know when to act and the other was that, if his attention was focused in the opposite direction, there was very little chance of him getting them caught because of that blasted glow. It had been a flimsy excuse and, like the joke earlier, it was obvious that the ghost had seen through it. Mystery was fairly certain that he'd been sulking over it for the past five minutes.

It wasn't that Mystery enjoyed poking fun at his humans, but they could just be so funny at times.

"Headlights." Lewis said quietly. After a second, he added, "Definitely Arthur and Vivi; that mud is still stuck to the left one. You don't think that guy over there is going to be any trouble, do you?"

Mystery picked his way over and glanced down the road before turning back to the potential troublemaker. "I don't want to find out. Let's just eliminate the risk and admit ourselves without making them stop for us."

"You want me to phase us through the van?"

The dog flattened his ears, but nodded. "Not my first choice, I assure you, but at the speed Arthur's going-- or lack thereof-- it shouldn't be a difficult task to accomplish."

Lewis mimicked the gesture and, belatedly, Mystery realized that he'd been pressing his arms against the phantom wound again, like he was trying to hide it from a nonexistent audience. He let the behavior slide this time-- though it did make him wonder about the earlier 'sulking'-- and stayed quiet as Lewis gathered him up and launched the both of them at the slow moving vehicle.

They wound up barreling through the windshield and tumbling to a halt in the back, eliciting twin shrieks from Arthur and Vivi, the latter of whom clamored halfway out of her seat to stare into the hold. Even in the darkness, her smile lit up her entire face as she asked, "Couldn't just wait for us, huh?"

"Arthur, speed up." Mystery said in lieu of a greeting, "We don't want to have any more friendly chats tonight. Vivi, sit properly and put your seatbelt on. And you," He rounded on the space Lewis had to occupy, based solely on the magenta glow. "That wasn't quite as horrible as last time. You're getting better at this."

"Hurray." He answered, amusement creeping into his tone despite the heavy layering of sarcasm. "I'm getting better at being dead."

"Oh, just take the compliment."

Reluctantly, Vivi wriggled back into her seat, head swiveling as she watched the stationary vehicle temporarily light up only to go dark again a second later. The detail didn't escape Arthur's notice, and he spared her a quick look. "See? That's why you use Lewis as a reading light and not the van."

She stuck her tongue out at him before leaning backwards, trying to look into the hold upside-down. "You make a better reading nest than this old thing anyway."

"Hurray." Lewis repeated, though the effort was foiled by the laughter that bubbled up before he'd even gotten the word out.

"You guys are so lucky you got out of the 'intervention'." With one hand, Arthur let go of the wheel to add the obligatory scare quotes. "Those people just wouldn't take 'no, we've got it covered' for an answer. At least we aren't like that. Anymore. Were we ever like that?"

Mystery snorted, finally turning his attention from the rear window as the last trace of the would-be ghost hunters disappeared into the night. "You don't want me to answer that."

And, for awhile, the ride lapsed into a comfortable rhythm. Mystery found his way into the front seat and curled up between Arthur and Vivi, listening to the conversation: complaints and rude remarks about the latest venture, debate over the usage of incense in the van, thinly veiled accusations of Deadbeats hiding important tools and, of course, heated discussion over the radio station.

It only lasted as long as the drive did, but that was better than nothing.

As was often the case, the rest stop they pulled into was deserted; given the hour and location, it was hardly a surprise. The light emanating from the post Arthur parked next to was dim, but enough to see by so long as one was in the van's front.

Vivi abandoned her excavation of the glove compartment-- dropping their abused map and an equally battered notebook she used to track investigations-- and made a desperate bid for freedom, bursting out the passenger-side door into the night.

"I can breathe again!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and grinned lopsidedly at Lewis as he pocketed the keys. "Weird how fresh air is such a commodity here. Any idea why my van smells like an aromatherapist's office? Any ideas? I'm stumped."

His grin tapered off when he realized that, instead of vaulting the front seat to join them, Lewis had shrunk back into the body of the van where only his eyes were visible. It was a far cry from how he'd been leaning backwards against the seat to socialize just minutes prior.

Briefly, Arthur's eyes flicked to Mystery, who stared back at him evenly. It was supposed to be a non-answer, but it told him what he wanted to know. So, keys jingling in his vest pocket, he hopped back into the van and knelt on the seat, mechanical arm hanging limply over the backrest as he leaned into the other.

"So. Today was fun. Plenty of paranormal activity and active paranormalists to keep everyone entertained-- some of us more than others." At the lack of any response-- beyond vague agreement-- Arthur sighed and abandoned his perch entirely, slipping behind it into the hold. "It's what that lady said, isn't it? Listen Lew, you know Vivi and I don't--"

As though summoned by the sound of her name, Vivi called, "Oh boooooys," and ran the length of the van, tapping at the siding with her nails. She stopped at the back doors knocked on them in rapid succession, waited long enough to serve as a dramatic pause, and threw the doors open with a cry of "Come out, come out and plaaaay!"

Arthur winced as the doors creaked on their hinges, and was about to remind Vivi 'easy does it' when he noticed something amiss. Blindly, he reached into the darkness after Lewis and pulled his hand back when it encountered something sharp.

"I was way off base; it wasn't what that girl said, it was the spell. What's wrong? What did it do to you?"

"Spell?" Vivi echoed, brows knit together and previous mischief forgotten, "What spe-- oh. That spell. Don't worry so much, it was just for true sight, and it's not like there's anyone around to see."

There was a scuffle from up front then the sound of paws on asphalt and Mystery's voice rang out before he even rounded the corner of the van. "Exactly, it's nothing to worry about. Arthur, might I suggest that you, Vivi and I take a walk?"

"What. Is. Wrong?"

The dog winced and looked to Vivi for backup, but found none. "Nothing's 'wrong' per se…"

He went safely ignored as Arthur and Vivi shared a look and, in unison, turned to stare into the shadows.

"How 'bout this: we find a place to talk and work all this out?"

There was a beat of silence and the magenta glow disappeared as Lewis sighed, "That's really sweet, Vivi, but I'd rather not."

"Why?"

"I just-- don't want you guys to have to see this. Go ahead and get some fresh air; I'll be fine here."

Vivi sighed and puffed her cheeks up. That made things substantially harder. If Lewis had convinced himself that he was doing this for her and Arthur's benefit, he wasn't going to budge on the issue. Not even death had managed to interfere with the force of nature that was Lewis's protective streak.

Still, she didn't understand the first part. What was there to see? True sight swept illusions away and kept them from being reestablished; even if the skeletal projection was Lewis's natural state-- and she knew for a fact that it wasn't-- there was no reason to hide.

"Please don't press the matter," Mystery said, leaping up into the back. "It will resolve itself. If it makes you feel better, I'll stay here and play 'guard dog' while you're away."

Her frown didn't lessen, but Vivi shrugged. "Who needs 'away'? We have full rein of the parking lot and all the fresh air we can handle-- that's good enough for me."

"You don't have to--"

Arthur snorted, cutting off a protest he'd heard dozens upon dozens of times in the past. "You keep thinkin' that, bud. Say it enough and maybe you'll convince one or two of the Deadbeats. Maybe."

As though he expected that to summon the wispy ghosts, Arthur glanced around and, assured that the little troublemakers weren't about to play any trick on him, blindly reached out to find the wall of the van. Once he successfully located it, he leaned back and slid down to the floor in an undignified-- but comfortable-- heap.

"So how'd you convince Mystery to let you phase him through the van, anyway?"

Scoffing, the dog in question trotted back into the van's darkened innards, leaving Vivi standing, idle and alone, at the back doors.

That just wouldn't do.

'Alone' she could handle but 'idle' she could not-- not when she had an investigation log to update and a conversation to eavesdrop on. That wasn't to say that the conversation in back was a secret or that she wasn't welcome to join, but it was more fun to think that there was some element of subterfuge involved. Besides, she couldn't record the day's events and talk at the same time; the one time she'd tried it, the results had been indecipherable.

Even though it would have been nice to run around a little, she could think of worse things to do. She still got her fresh air as she scribbled away in her notebook, heels knocking against the van's siding as she absently kicked her feet.

All things considered, it was an acceptable substitute-- up until Vivi turned the cab light on to scrutinize the map.

Arthur immediately fell silent, which wouldn't have been entirely unusual, but there wasn't any follow-up commentary from either of his conversation partners or any other indication that somebody had said something strange enough to render the lot of them speechless. Confused, Vivi straightened up in time to see Lewis scramble to cover the gaping hole that tore through his chest. It was a doomed attempt, doing nothing to obscure the dried blood caking his vest or the other, more minor puncture wounds. If anything, it only served to prominently show off the tip of a stalagmite that had, somehow, lodged itself in his arm.

Vivi felt her jaw drop and, on their own accord, her hands flew to her mouth.

"S-sorry." The ghost said, stubbornly refusing to meet anyone's eyes as he hugged his arms tighter around himself. "Sorry. It's pretty bad. I didn't want you to…"

Despite having gone so pale he looked ill, Arthur picked the abandoned train of thought up on Lewis's behalf. "Have to see it. Yeah. You mentioned that." / "Wh-what happened? Are you, y'know, okay?"

--

As promised, they found him at the picnic area across the parking lot. He was sitting at a table full of Deadbeats, chin propped up on one hand as he skimmed through one of Vivi's tomes. In theory, all of that was perfectly fine.

In actuality, five of the six wisps had seated themselves properly on the picnic benches while the sixth threaded itself through their leader's torso, staring blankly at the open book but still looking completely thrilled with the situation.

Lewis didn't even seem aware of it until, in his haste to cover the wound at their approach, he flipped the book upwards and hugged it to his chest. The offending Deadbeat phased through it, squeaked in dismay, and retreated.

[xxsovereignsarayaxx]

Supernatural - Road to Revenge Chapter 6

Authors Note: Chapter 6 is here! I’m very proud of this chapter and can’t wait for you guys to read it. I would like to thank @hobby27 for all the love you shown me. (It means so much! You rock!) And I would like to thank once again @evilispretty-dead for helping me with my writers block. I also included some extra bits in this chapter. You’ll find some hyperlinks in this so click them to find out what they uncover!  Word Count: 2785 Warnings: Implied sex, Swearing, Mentions of self harm.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

“Sam can wait”

Every touch was fire, desire and pain all combined into one. Dean was never a spoken person, he believed that actions said more and at that moment I finally understood. Each touch, each grab was harsh...forced to the point of leaving bruises but his lips spoke a completely different story; they showed love, compassion. His kisses were soft and meaningful and truly showed how hurt he was. But most importantly he showed me that he still cared and that he was on his way to forgiving me. I wanted to let him in, I wanted to show him I was sorry but we were doing it the wrong way. Dean used sex as a distraction before. And now it was me doing the same, we were no closer in fixing our problems with my little revenge trip, only burying them underneath the pile of clothes on the floor. Sweat dripped off our bodies and we tried to regulate our breathing. Dean rolled off me wiping the sweat build up from his forehead and wiped it on the bed sheets. I stared at the ceiling, my chest no longer heaved gasping for air, my hair was messy and sprawled out on the pillows. Feeling exposed I pulled the covers to hide my form and guilt from my partner to whom was inches away from me. I never hid. But I felt nothing but pure guilt. 

As I carefully removed my side of the covers I swung my legs so my feet just touched the floor. I stretched and my back arched in the process and I felt Dean’s palm graze itself down my spine and towards my hips, he slightly moved upwards and caressed my anti-possession tattoo that was located on the left side of my rib-cage, his fingers ghosted a path on the line work and leaned towards me planting small kisses on the back of my neck, I shuddered under his touch. Dean always knew how to make me feel like a goddess. He gently pulled my bare form back to his. And guided me back to lie down, he positioned both of us so that we were comfy and my head rested on his chest and I listened to his heartbeat. The steady rhythm had started to lull me to sleep along with the soft strokes on my head. Lazily I started to trace the lines of his well defined chest but within a few moments I was fast asleep. 

The next morning came and I fluttered my eyes, my vision started with a blur as I blinked a few more times I looked over to see Dean missing from the bed. I looked over once more seeing the clothes that were once on the floor picked up and gone and noticed the fresh bed sheets on the table ready to be changed later in the day. I also noticed that next to the sheets was a clean set of clothes and underwear had been left out for me along with the first aid kit. I sat up and brought the covers up to my chest once again and rolled my neck clockwise and then the opposite way feeling my neck crack and relishing in the feeling. Dropping the covers feeling the fabric slipping through my fingers I repeated the same action with my shoulders trying to sooth the deep ache in my muscles.     

Finally getting out of bed I reached for the clean clothes and proceeded to get myself dressed. Gingerly pulling on my shirt trying not to irritate or pull at the bandages and dressings that covered my healing wounds. Putting on jeans was a harder task, I failed to notice the damage on my thighs. A mix of fresh wounds and scars littered the tops of my thighs. Pausing taking a moment I skimmed a finger over the deepest scar that littered my legs. Sighing that at one point years ago I was ready to join my mom and dad. Feeling a tear that pricked my eye I shook my head and composed myself. Finishing getting dressed I stripped the bed, putting the dirty sheets on the floor whilst I put the fresh sheets on. As I was bent over tucking the sheet underneath the mattress, I heard the door open and a set of footsteps entered the room. I flicked my head seeing Sam in the doorway with a cup of tea in hand. My heart sank slightly when it wasn’t Dean but instead it was his brother. 

“I thought you might want a hot drink.” Sam said softly, placing it on the table in the room.

Smiling at the younger brother I finished my task and bent down and picked the dirty sheets placing them at the edge of the bed. I made my way over to the hot beverage and picked it up, one hand on the handle and the other wrapped around the main part of the cup enjoying the warmth from the liquid as it spread through my hand.

“Don’t suppose you added a shot of whiskey to this did you?” I asked with a chuckle taking a sip.

“I didn’t but I came to change your bandages.” Sam replied, taking a seat next to me as the bed sank a little..

“Where’s Dean?” I asked softly, moving the sleeve on my shirt so Sam could check the bandage. 

“He’s doing a food run and asked me to check up on you. Did you get things sorted last night?” Sam said as he peeled the bandage off my arm with care and applied some disinfectant to the healing skin.

I scrunched my face slightly, gripping the cup feeling the sting and a new bandage was put on. “Not exactly. We did talk but it didn’t get sorted how I wanted it to. Things digressed…” I explained turning my head away trying to hide the blush that was forming on my features.  

“How did he seem this morning?” I pondered turning back to face Sam once more, taking another sip from my drink. Shifting again allowing Sam access to a different part of my body so he could repeat the motion of patching me back up. 

“He seemed better then he had been, the day he came back...I hadn’t seen that look on my brother in a long time Nik, you hurt him but you know that. When we were trying to locate where you were he didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, only drank. It was killing him from the inside. I’m just glad you came home when you did otherwise I think there would have been a larger mess of the pair of you to fix.” Sam explained to me, finishing up checking on the wounds that needed looking at. 

“There are things I want to explain to you both when Dean comes back if that's ok? It might be the explanation you both need. And I should have been open and honest about it from the get go when I meet you both.” 

“Nik...You don’t have too…” Sam started.

 “I do Sam. I need to. I owe it to Dean and you.” I interrupted.

 Slinging an arm around my shoulder Sam brought me in a half hug, I rested my head in the arch of his shoulder and I relaxed slightly, I was already starting to feel tense knowing that the boys were going to learn about my past.

Finishing the drink Sam took the cup from me along with the dirty washing, I asked if he was sure and he nodded smiling reminding me that it was his turn to do the washing. Before leaving the room he ruffled my hair, a gesture that he had always done and I smiled again at the interaction. Letting out a breath I left the room and headed towards the file room. Walking the back of the room bending down I opened up the dusty box and lifted the mountain of files that was stored inside onto the floor. The box itself had cases between the 1920’s and 1940’s a box that I had looked through myself and at the bottom was a single file. A file I had placed in there long before hoping to forget about but alas today would be the day I would bring it out. The file itself was thicker than some of the other the Men Of Letters files had on their operatives. Putting the files back in the box I placed the lid back on and grabbed I came for and left the room, slightly shaking as I made my way to the library. I saw Sam sat down at the table with his laptop typing away as I took a seat holding onto the file for dear life. 

“Dean texted said he’ll be back in a few minutes.” Sam said, still looking at the laptop screen and I felt relieved a little knowing that he hadn’t seen what was in my hand. 

“When he gets back tell him to wait in here. I forgot something.” I lied as I got up and made a break to the bathroom. 

Hurrying down the walls I got to the bathroom and shut the door leaning up and sliding down it ever so slightly. Looking at the file in my hands I hesitantly opened it seeing the first page that was written in 1986. Skimming my eyes down the page, when I first read it I was shocked but now it didn’t phase me at all it was just another piece of paper making up my childhood...Or whatever you would call it. I looked at the photos of myself paperclipped to each report and I saw the naive look I once had, I was so young when they first started with me and at the time I thought it was normal so I couldn’t see the harm they were doing to me. I didn’t have anyone my own age to play with so I thought it was normal.I wanted to make them proud so I gave them everything I had. Closing the file I clambered back to my feet and reached for the handle opening the door. 

Returning back to the library I saw Sam and Dean waiting for me, they both had a bottle of beer and I spotted a third on the table for me. I placed the file gently on the table and slid it over to them. 

“What's this?” Sam asked me whilst Dean looked at the cover, it shared the logo of the other files all three of us had read. 

“My life prior to the American foster system.” I whispered to them, still stood up.    

Dean opened the folder and took out the first page he looked at the photo. “You were a cute kid.” He mumbled. He lifted the photo and started reading. 

Sam looked at me, we shared glances but he never said a word. He waited patiently for his brother to finish reading the first report. Deep down I think Sam knew Dean needed this more than he did. 

Moments later Dean handed Sam the report and looked at me. “There are few similar, to one you just read. But I thought it might give you an insight to why I never told you about it.”

“So what you said before was true?” Dean asked sheepishly.

I nodded. “If you look for the report dated 1996 it goes into a bit more detail of what they taught me. However when I disappeared shortly after they must have destroyed most of the files they had on me and the Kendricks Programme, I was given a few of the saved files by the person who brought me over to the states. The very same person who dumped me in the foster system.” I admitted. 

Dean flicked through the file and lifted out the 1996 report I told him about along with another that was dated two years prior however most of it was blanked out. “What was this one?” He asked, showing me the date for 1994.   

“I...I can’t remember much but I think I was left in a dark room for a while, and then I would be allowed to walk into another room, there was a...a table and I would be restrained...I had to answer questions if I made a mistake...something bad would happen.” I replied my voice sounded scared and quiet. 

“I’ll leave you both to it, there is a fair bit to read.” I added and left the room and headed back to bed. 

I laid on top of the bed and curled up, I had my back to the door but had my eyes closed. Shortly after I heard the door open once more but I failed to see which brother it was. But from how close they sat next to me and placed a hand on my shoulder I knew it was Dean. 

“Thank you.” I whispered, still with my eyes closed. 

“What for?” Dean asked back.

“For not hating me, for not being disgusted of who I was.”I replied. Turning myself over to look at him.

“Nik, I could never hate you. It wasn’t your fault either, those sons of bitches did that to you. But you're not what those reports made you out to be. Do you know what I see? I see a strong, beautiful woman who knows how to handle herself. She is fierce and loyal. She’ll do anything for her family. Sure when we first met she had trust issues and I’m pretty sure she liked me from day one. But now I see a carbon copy of myself, good looks and all. From loving bacon to booze I know she is the girl for me.” 

He paused.   

“Another thing, she has a killer right hook.” Dean teased. 

I sat up and smiled at him. He placed a hand on my cheek and I melted once more in his touch, he then planted a kiss on my forehead. 

“The first time I was sent in the field it was a test and I failed because I got hurt. But the demon was called Cecilia. It turned out  that she was romantically involved with Actaeon and because of me killing her that was the reason Nia was killed. He copied how I tortured her and repeated it on me, the only difference was I got out…Nia wasn’t so lucky.”  

“So Actaeon was acting on revenge?” 

“Looks that way. Revenge does things to people, it brings out the worst in people…” 

“Yeah…”

The pair of us sat in silence just enjoying each other's company. 

“I forgot to ask you, how are you feeling? With the mark and all? Have you slept any better?” I asked him.

“Sweetheart I’m fine, I’m now more worried about you.” 

“D...I’m ok.” 

“You just up-hauled a major part of your past Nik. I don’t expect you to be fine.”   

“D…” I started.

“Come on grab your jacket we’re going for a drive.”

Doing as Dean said, I grabbed my jacket and we headed out, as I slid into the passenger seat in the Impala and sunk into the worn leather seats. We had no cases so we were able to enjoy this moment of peace. As Dean drove the sun was high and there was a slight breeze so with the windows down my hair fluttered. I picked out the Def-Leppard cassette along with my sunglasses on and for the first time in a while I had a smile plastered on my face, motioning a wave with my hand I felt the cool breeze as my arm dangled out of the window. Dean looked at me a few times and he too had a smile and as he sang the words to the music I think this is what we both needed. He had his left arm resting on the ledge of his window and keeping the wheel steady while his right hand was eloped with mine giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

Pulling my sunnies up and used them as a headband, it allowed Dean’s green eyes to mix with my blue ones. He chuckled and used the upcoming lay-by to pull the car over. Putting Baby in park he shifted and looked at me once more. The leather squeaking with the motion.

“Next time either one of us needs to go on a kick ass mission we tell each other the plan. Deal?” Dean said.

I chuckled and reached to touch his cheek rubbing my thumb against the growing stubble. “Deal.” And sealed it with a kiss.

[hopewritcs]

the prodigal sister. two.

pairing: familial byers fam x reader, romantic paring tbd

word count: 1.4k

summary: y/n is the middle sibling of the byers brothers. she’s just ten months younger than jonathan, making the pair “irish twins”. except when her father and mother got divorced, lonnie got custody of y/n and took her away from the rest of the family.

notes: it’s taken me forever to write it but here’s part two!  part three will be up soon, including y/n’s first day at hawkins high and some familiar faces.  

other chapters: masterlist

stranger things tag list: @thekidsofneibolt, @madhatterweasley,@inspiredbynewt, @rainy-bookish-days (if you wanna be added to any tag list, let me know!!)

Y/N was jet lagged.  She’d only flown back home almost forty-eight hours before then.  And suddenly she was hounded with a ton of information that she still needed to process.  Her younger brother was kidnapped by some...other dimensional being, and then overtaken by the same being?  

Honestly, if it weren’t for everyone’s serious explanations of what happened in the time she missed.  And how her mother seemed so stoic and looked at her with such a firm stare, she may not have believed it.  But yet...she couldn’t help but believe everything she’d been told.  It didn’t make sense.  But she was still processing everything.  

After dinner, once everyone left, Y/N found her way to the couch in the living room.  She barely had anything from her father’s house, since she’d packed up what little she had and hopped on the next bus that would get her to Hawkins.  

“What kind of sick excuse is that Lonnie?  I swear, you’re such a damn child sometimes!  She’s our daughter.  Will’s sister.  How could you not tell her?”  Joyce was shouting in the kitchen, wrapping the chord of the phone around her finger as she paced back and forth.  She was fuming, and decided to give her ex-husband a call once all the other kids had gone home for the night.  

Joyce couldn’t let him get away with what he’d done.  After taking away her daughter for so many years with no visits, to not tell her about what happened to Will.  Joyce paced back and forth.  Every so often she would look at Y/N and smile kindly.  Despite yelling at her ex-husband, she didn’t want her daughter to feel like she caused the problem.  

Y/N shook her head, trying to get her mother’s voice out of her head.  She didn’t want to eavesdrop.  She tapped her fingers against the arm of the couch she was sitting on, nervous.  What if her father made her mother send her back to him?  What if she was forced to go back to that God awful boarding school?  She needed to be home.  With her family.  

A throat clearing caused Y/N to glance up at her brothers.  Will was in his pajamas and Jonathan was in his.  He held out a pair of swear pants and a t-shirt to Y/N.  

“Didn’t know if you brought something to sleep in.  Your bag’s pretty small.”  Jonathan explained.  

“Thanks.”  She said, standing up and taking the clothes from him.  Then, overcome with emotion, she pulled her brothers into a tight hug, sandwiching Will between her and Jonathan.  Tears pricked the corner of her eyes once more.  Maybe it was exhaustion, or maybe it was just the fact she’d missed her brothers so much.  Missed what it felt like to have family by her side.  

“We missed you too, Y/N/N.”  Jonathan whispered, holding tightly to his sister.  He hadn’t seen her in years.  She went from being his almost twin to a ghost he barely knew.  

“I’m going to miss you again if you don’t let me out.”  Will’s voice was muffled from the position he was in, trying to squirm his way out of the embrace.  

Y/N laughed--choked out by a sob that came out of her throat at the motion.  She took a step back and allowed Will to get out of the hug.  “Sorry, Will.”  she explained, ruffling his hair with one hand while she used the sleeve of her other hand to wipe at her eyes.  “Didn’t mean to squeeze you to death.”  she joked.  

“I’ve had worse.”  Will replied, shrugging his shoulders.  When he caught the wide eyed look of Y/N he made a face.  “Too soon for you?”  he asked.  He forgot that not everyone was used to the upside down, topsy turvy world they’d been living in.  

“Hush.”  Y/N shoved his shoulder lightly before pulling him in for another hug.  “I love you.”  she said, pressing a kiss to the top of her brother’s head.  “Both of you.”  she added, raising her hand to grab Jonathan’s.  

“Promise you won’t leave again.”  Will said softly, glancing up at Y/N with sad eyes.  He could still hear his mother on the phone in the kitchen, but her voice had gone quiet.  She wasn’t shouting anymore.  No one in the living room could make out the words she was saying.  Will just hoped that he wouldn’t have to say goodbye to his sister, again.  Not just after she got here.  

“If I have anything to say about it, I’m not leaving any time soon.”  Y/N assured her brother with a grin.  But she wasn’t so convinced that her father would give up so easily.  She hoped he would, but she knew her father was a bit unpredictable in that sense.  

“And she’s not going anywhere.”  Joyce announced from the kitchen, as she hung up the phone and looked at her kids.  She walked to them and wrapped her arms around them as best she could.  Mostly her arms were around Y/N and Jonathan as they created somewhat of a circle in the living room.  

“I’m not?  Dad said it was okay?”  Y/N’s voice cracked, a grin crossing her face as she spoke.  

“After a long argument and lots of discussion, he agreed it would be best for you to stay here.  He’ll be boxing up your room and sending us the rest of your things within the week.”  Joyce nodded her head, squeezing her daughter’s shoulder.  “All my babies under one roof.  I missed this.”  she sighed, happily. She tightened her hold.  “Now, it’s a school night.  So you should all get some sleep.”  Joyce stood back, pointing in the direction of the bedrooms.  “Bed.  Now.  We’ll catch up with Y/N in the morning.”  she said, patting her youngest on the back as he walked off to his room.  

“Night everyone.”  Will waved before closing his door.  

“Night Will.” Joyce echoed.  

Jonathan smiled, waiting another moment before heading off to his own room, a silent wave his form of saying goodnight to his sister and mom.  

When it was just the two of them, Joyce dropped her arms to her side and walked toward the living room.  “It’s not much, but we can go shopping for a bed frame tomorrow.  Maybe get some point for your old room.  Until we get the things from your father.  If it’s longer than a couple days we can figure something else out.  Maybe Jonathan and Will can bunk together for a few nights.  I’ll ask them in the morning, since I can’t imagine the couch is that comfortable.  And maybe someone else has an old mattress we could borrow.  And--”

“Mom.”  Y/N put her hand on her mom’s shoulder.  Smiling, she continued.  “Take a breath.  The couch is fine for a couple of nights.  I’ll be fine.  You don’t need to worry.”

“Oh, I know.  I’m just”

“A worrier by nature.  I know.  But I’m fine.  I’m home.”

Joyce’s eyes welled up and she nodded.  “You are home.”  she wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter’s torso.  “You’re home, Y/N.  My baby girl.” 

“I missed you too, mom.”  Y/N said quietly against her mom’s shoulder.  She hugged her mom back as tightly as she was being hugged, feeling her mom’s shoulders move as she cried.  “Don’t cry mom.  Please don’t cry.”  she pled softly, rubbing her mom’s back. 

“I can’t help it, I’m sorry.  I’m just so happy you’re home.”  Jocye pulled back and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead.  “I’m so happy you’re home.”  she said once more.  Then, taking a step back, Joyce smiled.  “Get ready for bed.  I’ll be taking you to school tomorrow.  Figure out what we need to do to get you transferred to Hawkins High so you can start as soon as possible.”  Joyce kissed her daughter’s temple and sighed.  “Goodnight, Y/N.  I love you.”  she said, and then went to bed and closed the door.  

Y/N smiled softly, taking in a deep breath as she looked around the living room.  Her body was exhausted, but she felt wide awake.  She gathered the clothes Jonathan had given to her and changed in the bathroom, grabbing the pillow and blanket her mom put out on the way back to the living room.  Y/N set up the couch as best she could and then turned to lean back.  She stared up at the ceiling, waiting to fall asleep.  

[lokis-lady-death]

Return to Crimson Peak

Disclaimer: This story is written as a sequal to Crimson Peak. If you couldn’t handle the original story, please don’t read, because that would be dumb. 

Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Mini Series Halloween (Special thanks to @bambamwolf87 for going back and forth on this idea!) 

My name is (y/n), and I would like to tell you a story.

A love story. Filled with hate. Filled with sin. Something real and imaginary, exciting and terrifying.

I want to tell you a ghost story.

There were all kinds of ghost stories that have floated through the world, like a dense fog, capturing the imaginations of those who hear them. Some based as far back as when nobility and class were all anyone cared about, some as notorious as Jack the Ripper, some as tragic as children getting taken by monsters. Each story holds some truths, based on some sort of factual event that forever concretes the illusion of a ghost to the world of the living. Alas, they all inevitably fade away. They become fables we tell children, destined to be nothing more than boy scout campfire tales.

Utter nonsense really.

But then, every once in a while, against all reasonable belief, there is a ghost story so rifeting, so heart wrenching -so full of lust, ambition, and murder- that at the end it leaves one questioning their sanity.

Crimson peak is one of those ghost stories.

The first time my brother Luke and I heard the story of Crimson Peak was from our grandmother. I remember visiting the family home in Buffalo, New York, listening to her spin fantisful tales of this or that while pouring me tea. Grandmother was a wonderful storyteller, a trait I was told she inherited from her own mother, Edith McMichael. Better known by her maiden name, Edith Cushings.

She told us that Edith had grown up a beautiful, well educated woman of the upper society of New York. An unwed heiress that only cared about one thing: writing stories. That is, until her own story had an unexpected character added to the plot. Thomas Sharpe.

From there, everyone knows the story, most likely even read the book.

But this story became something more to my brother. He wanted more than the book. He wanted the experience.

He wanted to see and live it for himself.

As he grew older, he researched more into the story and found the home in which everything took place: Allerdale Hall. As it turned out, the gothic mansion had been made over to be a secluded, lavish hotel for rich bureaucrats traveling the English countryside in the 50’s, however in the 80’s the attention died down. It went a long time without use until 2010 when a new owner took over and turned it into a Victorian Bed and Breakfast with a twist: while it’s 50’s counterpart tried to pretend nothing awful happened in that house, the new owner exploited it. There was even an episode of Ghost Hunter filmed where someone stayed the night in the bed and breakfast. They stayed in Lucille’s room but never saw her ghost. He did say the new owner and her husband were rather odd, though he thought they were just trying to give into the haunted theme they tried to portray.

It was disheartening to say the least that other than the story of Crimson Peak itself, it seemed like there was no actual haunting. I eventually lost interest and moved on with my life, diving into school and social life. But not Luke. He still felt drawn to the story and after working doubles for two months and convincing me to split the fees, we were set to travel to England and actually stay the night in Allerdale Hall.

Which is where my story begins.

*****

“This is it!” Luke exclaimed, heaving one bag onto his shoulder and another under his arm. “Crimson Peak!”

I cut my eyes at my brother, almost annoyed at the whole situation. His Ghosts are Real shirt, his bag of ghost summonings, our grandmother’s copy of Crimson Peak all in hand so as to crescent it with what he deems the unholy land. “I can’t believe you talked me into this…”

His blonde curls bounced as he turned to face our home for the next few days. “But… Just look at it, y/n....”

Turning up from the cab, I took in the entirety of Allerdale Hall. Grand, magnificent, dark, and foreboding, it stood against a gray canvas of fog. In front of it, the key part of the entire story, Sir Thomas Sharpe’s mining invention.

My eyes followed upward the structure, absorbing every last archway and stone of the complex before resting on a single window where I caught sight of a pale faced man.

I was snapped back to my brother when he called my name for what I had to assume by his aggravated tone was not the first time. “What?”

“I said grab your shit, I ain’t no packmule.”

I grabbed my bags and followed him through the double doors.

Inside, it was evident all the work the new owners had put into the mansion. It was extravagant but dark, framed perfectly with a massive wooden staircase that opened all the way to the other floors, victorian era artwork lining every inch of wall space, and a single grand crystal chandelier shining over the foyer.

“Welcome!” called out a british accent. A pink haired woman popped up from behind the registry desk with a gleaming, misplaced smile. “I’m the owner, I go by Rain. You must be the Cushings!”

As if the overtly brightness of her hair was too much for the gothic mansion, she countered with a steampunk style victorian dress of silk, leather metal loops and chains that dangled from her sleeves and a leather corset hugging at her waist.

“Actually, that’s not our name…” I corrected while Luke simply began signing the guest book.

“But you ARE descendants of Edith Cushing, right?” she pushed.

“I… Yes, we are. How did you...?”

“I found you on Ancestry.com! I have been a huge fan of your great, great grandmother for a long time! I saved up for years to buy this place,” the owner said as she looked around the empty lobby with a since of overbuilt romanticism. “Crimson Peak has always been a passion of mine.”

“You two should get along swell then,” I mumbled as Luke laid down the pen. “Now, about our rooms….”

“OH yes!” she exclaimed while pulling out two skeleton keys, handing you each one. “You will be in the west wing, Lucille’s old room,” the owner told Luke. “And you,” she said with a sideways grin, “You’ll be down the hall in Sir Thomas’s room.”

I took the key and stared at it, feeling my heart start to race. “I....”

“Excellent!” my brother cut me off, taking the sets of keys. “Are we allowed to explore some?”

There was some mischief behind the owner’s eyes when she answered, “Its actually encouraged.”

While Luke looked more than please, I had to stop and ask, “Won’t that be disruptive to your other customers?”

“Judging by the guest book, we’re the only ones staying here.”

“Correct! We normally slow down on visitors during the colder months. Which is a shame, because that’s when things always get fun around here.” Rain cut me a wink before finishing, “Now, enjoy!”

Luke’s hand grabbed hold of my shoulder to steer me away from the desk. “Yes, we will, thank you, Ms. Rain!” Just passed her I could make out another grand room with a marble fireplace and piano.

“That’s where Lucille used to play music for her brother,” Luke told like an extremely zealous curator at a museum. I wrinkled my nose, remembering that detail from the book. “Come on, let’s go find our rooms!”

At the base of the stairs was a framed layout of the house to help guests find their way around. A large YOU ARE HERE arrow laid out where you began. Luke’s finger followed the line up to the right and down a hall to West Wing where the two of you would be staying.

Luke held out my key before flashing me one of his overly excited grins, he spat out, “Race ya!”

Before I could argue how rude, childish, and annoying he was being, Luke was off. Never one to be outdone, I bolted up behind him, hoping I remembered the layout. By the time I got to the top of the stairwell, I saw my brother’s sneakers right before they disappeared down a hall. When I got to the opening of the hall, I turned and saw no one. Taking a few steps forward, I listened intently to try and pinpoint where my brother had gone.

But nothing.

“Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath. Giving up on the race, I let out an exasperated sigh and wandered deeper in to the house.

‘Do I turn here?’ I asked myself when I found another hall off the main one. I still didn’t see Luke, so I called out for him but I got no answer.

A round window at the other end of the stretch was all that illuminated my path, casting shadows from the intricate woodwork of the moldings and ceiling.

I was distracted when I heard a soft disruption in all the stillness of the house. I stopped and listened. Someone was moving around in one of the rooms, but which one, I wondered. Following the sound, I came to the end of the hall. A light on the other side was so bright that it boiled through the small gap where the door met the floor. Some more ruffling from the other side confirmed I was at the right room, I could even see shadows move through the light.

“Luke, is this your room?” I asked, going to turn the knob. But it was locked.

“No?” I jumped when I unexpectedly heard his voice from the other end of the hall, where I had just come from. “What are you doing down here?” he asked, “We’re this way.”

“I heard someone, I thought it was you...” I turned back, eying the floor where the light shone through. But there was none now. No light. No movement. Just stillness.

“Oh…” I swallowed but shook my head, knowing it had to be my own imagination getting the better of me.

“You’re already getting haunted?” Luke asked with a hint of jealousy.

“No, you idiot, this stupid house just has me on edge is all.” I grabbed up my bags and eyed him. “Now show me where our rooms are so I can sleep off this jet lag!”

Back down the main hall, he showed me where a set of double doors led down a private wing. The West Wing.

“Here’s your room,” Luke said, taking my key to open it. “My room is the last one on the left.”

The door creaked so horribly it felt like it echoed through the whole mansion.

It did not disappoint. The room, like everything else in the house, was massive, the walls solid wood carved and etched with such fine, minute detail it felt like a painting. The ceiling had golden loops around where two chandeliers hung on either side of the massive four poster bed that sat opposite of a fireplace.

“Holy shit…. Maybe this won’t be so bad, “ I reasoned as I pulled out my phone to text my friends back in the US.

Luke’s voice cracked as he watched, knowing what you must be doing. “Actually, I had one thing I had to tell you, and don’t freak....”

“I HAVE NO SIGNAL?” I raged as my eyes narrowed at him. His hands were up in defense, waiting for the slew of slaps he deserved, but I just let it go. “Fine. Ok. Whatever. Have you found the WiFi password?”

“Actually, about that…”

“Luke…”

“It’s good to take a break from modern advances now and then, y/n, you know it’s healthy…”

“Luke.” I stopped him, staring deep into his soul. “Are you telling me you brought me to the middle of nowhere England, to a haunted house, with no working means to contact the outside world?”

“It’s only for a few days…”

“LUKE, I WILL MuRdEr YOU! You will no longer be looking for a ghost because YOU WILL BE A GHOST!” My hands went flying and all he could do was protect his face.

“Come on, y/n. Don’t be so melodramatic,” he said before stepping out of your doorway. “Take it as an opportunity to get to know yourself. That’s why I told you to bring books.”

The realization that he had known the whole time we would be without technology was even more infuriating, so I started chunking pillows from the bed at him until he closed the door

I threw myself onto the bed and screamed into the comforter.

How was I going to stay sane without the internet for three days?

Sitting back up, I couldn't help but reassess my situation.

I'm stuck.

In a haunted house.

For three days.

A strange sensation washed over me, like the sudden chill of someone walking over your grave.

The house, I realized, was quiet. So quiet. Not another soul to be heard.

That was the first time I noticed that I had been hearing a steady movement the entire time I was alone and hadn't paid it any attention until now. When it stopped.

What had stopped moving?

I stayed still and listened for it to start again.

But it didn't.

Wondering why I had unnecessarily scared myself, I shook my head clear of the thought while opening up one of my bags.

My first bag was my safety net.

Junk food (because I’m shameless), sodas (because I’m shameless), and romance novels (because, you guessed it).

I opened the music on my phone and pulled out my thirstiest book.

Chapter One: How They Met

About twenty minutes into my story, the music was interrupted by a tap on the door. One solid knock. Of course I jumped, anyone would have. Then I heard some shuffling as an envelope flew under my door.  

I instantly sprang from my seat- curiosity always being both my best and worst quality- and tore the letter open.

~~We would like to cordially invite you to dinner in the Main Dining Hall this evening at 6pm. PS On the back of the door, you will find attire for the event.~~

Of course my first thought was what a gimmick to pull, but then I had to appreciate their creativity. The place wanted to bring out the Gothic Romance of  Allerdale Hall, and it certainly didn’t hold back. Opening the door to find a white silk dress, I saw the depth of that devotion.

I pulled the dress down when I heard Luke’s door open. “Holy shit!” he cussed. I went down the hall to find him awing at a suit hanging from his door. “Y/n!” he squealed through his teeth, “Holy shit!”

I laughed but really, I was excited.

A dressed up dinner in a haunted mansion. Through all the cliche, through all the irritants, I thought maybe this could turn out to be a fun get away.

After all...

What was the harm in playing along?

Part 2 is up!

The role of Luke will be played by Evan Peters:

Like my garbage? Read more of it! Master List

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[buncompass]

Last night I had a dream about being a ghost hunter. I worked in a team and we traveled around the east coast investigating supposedly haunted places. 

A woman had contacted us about an old New England Victorian house that she had inherited from her grandmother. Marsha loved her Gammy’s house and wanted to move into it, but every time she had visited as a child, she had the pervasive feeling that something was following her. She assured us it hadn’t felt malignant and admitted she wasn’t entirely convinced herself; her mother had always chided her for making up stories when she mentioned it. Gammy, bless her, had never discouraged the notion, but something about the way Gam smiled made her feel like there was more to the house than its beautiful and spacious interior. Marsha opted to err on the side of caution and used some of the funds she’d also inherited to hire us to do a routine check.

My team and I arrived at the house on a crisp October morning. The house had a haunting beauty to it; dark siding that had faded from a handsome plum to something else, white detailing that had yellowed, and a creeping ivy along the eastern side of the house that could almost reach the witch’s hat turret. We unloaded our gear and made our way up the splintered front steps to a blood red door. 

Upon crossing the threshold, the six of us gave a collective shudder. The house was as beautiful inside as it was out, but there was an unnatural chill in the air. We had all come from New England originally, and were no strangers to cold, but this was something more. It seeped down our spines and filled our bones with a surreal heaviness. Though we were punch-drunk from the numbness in our skulls, we began our usual process. 

It is important to take an initial tour of any haunted property. Half the reason paranormal investigators get spooked is due to being in an unfamiliar place while fighting through the feeling that something is there. In order to avoid false positives, we always made sure to walk around the house as a group with all the lights on. We started in the basement. The scariest thing about that was one of the guys walking through a cobweb and yelling in surprise. On the ground floor we discovered creaky old floors, a closet door that didn’t shut properly, and evidence of mouse damage. The second floor was disappointingly not-scary, but proudly displayed years of what looked like family photos on the walls. The third floor and tower gave us pause. The chill that we had been ignoring doubled, and I felt the base of my skull crackling with an energy that I could not place. When I approached the stairs leading to the top of the tower, the sensation dripped down my neck and into my back. I held up a hand as a signal to my team and pulled out my cards.

“Hello,” I called out, my voice echoing around the apparently deserted space. “We’re not here to hurt you. A woman inherited this house and would like to move in. We just want to know how you feel about that.”

I sat on the floor in front of the tower stairs and shuffled the deck. As I did so, a breath of wind ruffled the hair on my forehead. I looked up the dark stairway but saw nothing.

“Are there any windows open?” I asked the rest of the team. 

“No, we checked,” Alicia replied. I nodded and fanned the cards out on the bottom step.

“A woman named Marsha inherited this house from her grandmother,” I said. “She used to visit the woman who lived here as a child. Marsha told us that she always felt like someone was with her when she visited. Was that you?”

I sat and stared at my deck, reciting prayers in my head to keep myself calm and to give the entity enough time to make a choice. Years of experience taught me that physical manipulation can be difficult for some of them. A card twitched enough to displace the others around it. I picked it up.

“Two of Cups,” I reported, and my team nodded. Someone was here, and they were seeking someone. I returned the card to the deck, shuffled again, and laid them out a second time.

“If you could, please pick three cards for me. I’d like to get to know you.”

Much more quickly this time, three cards twitched. I picked them up in the order they moved and spread them out on the second step.

“The Hermit, the Seven of Cups, and the Queen of Pentacles” I recited.

A sense of sharp loneliness bloomed in my heart. It expanded outward, reaching into my lungs, and filling my rib cage with undiluted melancholy. Tears began to leak out of my eyes. I put a hand to my face in surprise. Without realizing it, I had begun to cry. The team moved forward and sat behind me. I felt my friends’ hands on my shoulders. The sharpness of the feeling faded, leaving a warm but sensitive spot behind.

“There’s someone here,” I reported, rubbing my eyes with my sleeve. “She’s been very sad for a very long time.” 

“What if it’s a trap?” Jameson asked. 

“We’ll have to find out,” Wellesley replied. He stood and faced the stairway. “Hello, sir or madam. Is there anything you think we should know about you?”

The door at the top of the stairs flew open with an explosive bang. 

“Yeah, that’s not suspicious at all” Jameson laughed. 

“Better to be safe than sorry,” pointed out Tim.  It was our rule of thumb. Tim and Alicia turned to return to the ground floor as I gathered up my cards. Working in pairs was another rule we lived by. I looked up the stairs.

“They’ll be right back, and then we’ll head up there together, okay?”

We waited until the unmistakable sound of boots heralded the return of our friends. With our safety equipment securely in place, I led the way up the narrow, rickety staircase to the gaping doorway.

The tower was a sharply-slanted room, meeting at a point above the solitary light bulb. Decades’ worth of dusty boxes circled the walls and a strong scent of something musty clung to our noses. The feeling of loneliness filled my spine again, and grew stronger as I walked through the space. When the pain of the entity’s isolation became nearly unbearable, it stopped. I looked down at an old, dust-covered trunk. After a few grumblings and jokes between us (”why is it always a trunk?” “what are you expecting, a boggart?”), we opened it and discovered it was full of soft crocheted blankets, each folded and wrapped in old newspapers. All of the newspapers bore articles from the early 40s. We began to empty the trunk, gently unfolding the papers and examining them for any tell-tale signs of what we could be dealing with. It wasn’t until the second to last blanket was removed that Wellesley found something.

“Listen: ‘local boarding house shut down after matron’s death.’“

We read through the article. A local woman named Judith had used the house Marsha inherited as a boarding house. She took in those that others wouldn’t, and the article detailed her kind and supportive spirit, even expressing admiration at blankets that she crocheted for those in need. At the bottom of the article was a small picture of a smiling woman standing in front of a much cleaner-looking home.

“Hold on, I recognize her,” Nikki took the paper from Wellesley. “She was in one of the portraits downstairs!”

We packed up the displaced blankets and gently returned them to the trunk. Once everything was tucked away, we made our way down to the second floor to investigate the portraits. One half of the long hallway held antique group shots, the other side displayed modern pictures of smaller families. Each antique picture held a group of people, but upon closer inspection, they didn’t appear related. Judith stood centered in each picture, and got steadily older until the last picture in the hallway, where she was noticed by her absence. The group of people had left her space open, and each one of them was holding a blanket.

“There’s a little girl there,” Alicia pointed to the picture.

Next to Judith’s empty space stood a young girl with a kind smile. I turned to the other side of the hallway and saw the same young girl in those pictures. I walked down the hallway, finding the girl as she grew from child to teen, teen to adult, and adult to elderly. The last picture had to have been taken in the 90s, based on the outfits. It showed the young girl as an elderly woman standing with yet another young girl. 

“Excuse me, I just want to look at the back of this photo,” I said to the feeling in my spine. I took the picture off the wall and gently opened the back of the frame, hoping that this woman, like my own grandparents, had the habit of writing who was in the picture. I read the inscription aloud.

“Justine and Marsha, 1994.”

“So, what are we thinking?” Tim asked the group.

“Justine was Marsha’s grandmother, I remember her telling me when I asked about the house. Justine knew Judith somehow. Maybe they were related?” Alicia suggested.

“So Judith could be the spirit that Marsha always felt, and maybe she’s sad because the house wasn’t as full as it used to be?” Wellesley added.

“I have an idea!” Nikki said.

We all turned to look at her. She was smiling.

“Remember how we felt less sad when we all sat with you? Maybe we just need to make the house feel like a home again.”

We called Marsha and asked her to come up, and to bring friends. We explained our theory, and she happily agreed. She arrived with her husband, siblings, and all of their children. After the routine explanation and suggestions, the family took to the house and began to clean. Windows that hadn’t been opened in years were pulled up, floors that bore more dust than wood were swept, and Wellesley plugged in a speaker. Music and noise filled the house as my team and the family worked together to revitalize what we could. By the time the sun began to sink over the horizon, casting the house into a warm orange glow, it was as spotless as an old house could be.

Marsha’s husband called for pizza, and we gathered in the old dining room and sat at a table that had served hundreds of people other than ourselves. We shared stories about paranormal investigating, they told stories about the house. Marsha told us about her Gammy Justine, who had been adopted by Judith as a child. After Judith’s unexpected death, Justine grew up in the house being raised by the few boarders who stayed behind.

When the pizza was gone, the trash taken out, and most people gone, Marsha stood in front of us with a warm smile on her face.

“This isn’t quite what I expected when I hired ghost hunters,” She said kindly. Our team smiled in return.

“Movies make ghosts seem far scarier than they are. Most of them are just lost people. Judith poured her heart and soul into this house to make it a home for those in need, it’s only natural that an echo of her stayed behind.” Alicia explained.

“I’d say you’re safe to move in. In fact, the sooner the better. Judith hasn’t liked being lonely. She probably saw Justine in you and liked you, that’s why she followed you but never anyone else.” I said.

Marsha thanked us all, and we packed up our things. It was fully dark now, and as Jameson drove our van down the driveway, I looked back up to the tower. There, illuminated by the light of the lonely bulb, stood a smiling Judith standing next to a young Justine. Judith raised her hand in a wave, and the window went dark.

[codename-bewareofthefangirl]

GoM + Kagami playing with their daughter please? It can be a range between playing house, tea party, dressing up, or fairytale roleplay where their daughter is the princess and the GoM member is the prince saving them from the dragon. Thank you! ^o^

Hi dear! I’m so sorry If I made you wait so much! I’m having a hard time right now and so it’s a bit difficult to write; however, don’t worry you all, I’m not abandoning this blog, I just have to go through this difficult moment and I’ll be back as before! I hope you’ll like it, even if it sucks a bit. I used things that happened to me with my little sister to make it more real XD

It took me a lot to choose the names of the girls (you can find the meanings at the end), so if you want to know why I’ve chosen them, just ask! I’ll be happy to explain my contort thoughts.

Have a nice day!

The GoM, Kagami Taiga as Fathers Playing With Their Daughters

Aomine Daiki

Being a father, Aomine had discovered, required more energy and braveness than he could have ever thought. However, he had always been determined to be the best dad ever so he was ready to do anything.

Playing Tea Party included.

And that’s why he was stuck in a tiny pink chair, with a porcelain teacup in his big hands. He was frowning and fidgeting, not understanding why those toys were so fragile and small, but, every time his daughter Mitsuko looked at him, he would grin fondly.

“Do you like the tea, dad?” The child asked, literally beaming. Her round, blue eyes were sparkling as she watched her dad playing. He was often traveling to play basketball, so every moment spent together was precious.

“Yes, it’s very delicious,” he replied faking to take a sip, “Thank you.” It was a bit embarrassing, but he was too engrossed staring at his daughter’ smile to mind.

“I’m happy!” she clapped her hands and bounced near to him, to pour another cup, “See, I believe Miss Bunny doesn’t like it…” Mitsuko whispered in his ear with a scowl.

Aomine hid a smirk and faked to frown too, “Miss Bunny?” asked pointing a finger to the plushie seated in front of him,

His daughter nodded gravely.

“That’s very rude,” he shook his head in disbelief, “Do you want me to kick her out, kid?”

The girl chuckled covering her mouth, “No, no dad! We’re friends! But we’re arguing!”

“Uh, really?” Aomine asked as she offered him some plastic cookies, “Why?”

“We had a fight.”

“A fight?” he replied surprised, mimicking to bite the cookie.

“Miss Bunny stole my basketball,” she explained with a pout and Aomine had to masque another chuckle. His partner had already told him that Mitsuko couldn’t find the basketball anymore and had cried for three days straight. It seemed the poor Bunny was the culprit now.

“Have you asked her where it is?”

“Yes, but she didn’t say it!” The child glared at the plushie, “So, I punched her in the face.”

Aomine nearly choked, coughing. Trying not to laugh and showing a serious expression, he patted his daughter on the head and forced her to look at him in the eyes.

“Oi kid! You shouldn’t punch your friends, even if they made you mad,” he scolded her mildly. The girl crossed her arms. “Kid?”

“Fine…’m sorry.” She replied with a sigh.

“Good, now apologize properly.” Mitsuko rolled her eyes in a totally Aomine-like way, but reached the plush and took the rabbit’s paw in her hands.

“I’m sorry Miss Bunny. Let’s be friends again.” She begged earnestly.

It was so cute that Aomine regretted not having his phone to take some photos.

“Good!” Aomine smiled and stretched to ruffle her hair, a shine of pride in his eyes, “Now pour some tea for me and Miss Bunny, she said she wants more.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely yes.”

Kise Ryouta

Kise was comfortably seated on the floor, with the back against his daughter’s bed. Yua was curled on it and was playing with his hair; her little face was scrunched with concentration and her chubby fingers carefully combed the locks.

“What style do you want, dad?” she asked squishing his cheeks.

“Mmmhhh…I’ll leave it to my favorite hairdresser!”

The girl beamed and clapped her hands.

“Braids?”

“Oh!” Kise gaped with excitement, “Do you think I’ll look good with them?”

She nodded with a bright smile.

“Daddy looks good with anything!” she chirped before kissing his forehead. Kise swooned, covering his mouth with a hand as he screamed in his mind how cute his daughter was. He felt so blessed.

The child resumed playing with his hair and fought hard to style two tidy braids. Kise was so happy for having decided to keep his hair long. He was determined to enjoy his playtime with Yua for as many years as he could.

“Pink or blue hair ties?” She asked again, furrowing as she looked at her vast collection of hair pins and such.

“One and one?” Kise suggested with a smirk and the girl thrilled enthusiastic.

“That’s perfect!” She agreed; her favorite color was pink, but her dad’s was blue so…that was the perfect compromise. Yua also added a butterfly hairpin for his bangs on the front, her favorite one.

When she finally finished, she gave him a mirror to look at her masterpiece.

Kise faked to hold his breath in awe.

“I’m gorgeous!” he said caressing the braids and the child wrapped her arms around his neck.

“See? I told you!”

“I bet it’s all thanks to you!” he replied with a proud smile, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “So, should we go and show around my new style?”

Yua considered it briefly, before showing him her puppy eyes.

“Can you braid my hair too? So that we look the same!” she pleaded with an adorable, innocent smile. Her dad was whipped to that.

Kise chuckled, “Sure love, sure.”

Akashi Seijuurou

It was a beautiful sunny day and Akashi was seated in the garden together with his daughter, Aiko. They had a drawing block each and pastels were spread around them, as they draw quietly, humming a children song together.

“Look, look dad!” the little girl chirped excitedly as she gave the final touch and stood up with the paper in her hands. She stumbled in Akashi’s arms, proudly shoving in his face her drawing. “It’s you and me, dressed like a prince and a princess!”

It was a very clumsy drawing, typical of a child, yet Akashi widened his eyes and gave her a surprised look.

“This is beautiful!” he complimented her, “You’re becoming very good!” Akashi added stroking her hair affectionately.

Aiko beamed and pressed it to his chest.

“It’s a gift, for you!”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure!”

“Thank you,” he kissed her forehead, “Then I’ll give it mine to you!”

Akashi gave her his own drawing, the portrait of his daughter with flowers in her hair. The child thrilled in excitement, looking at her own face in awe.

“This is so beautiful…”

“Do you like it?” Akashi felt so proud of that reaction.

However, the child shadowed a bit as she nodded.

“What’s wrong?” he asked carefully, lifting her chin.

“Mine…is not good as yours,” she admitted sheepishly.

Akashi blinked and he had to restrain a fond smile.

“Are you sure?” he asked faking a furrow, “I prefer yours.” Her head perked up immediately and she scrunched her nose in disbelief.

“You’re lying,”

“I’m not lying, lying is bad,” he chuckled, “I really like it.”

“Really really?”

“Really really,” he assured her with a serious expression, “And why don’t we made a pretty frame so that I can put it into my office?”

Aiko thrilled enthusiastic and jumped on her feet, dragging him by the sleeve.

“We’ll do the prettiest frame, together!”

Murasakibara Atsushi

“And three spoons of sugar…” Atsushi read quietly, as he was standing in front of the counter of the kitchen with a big apron. On it, there was clumsily sewn “Best Dad”.

“It’s four, daddy!” His daughter, Ume, chuckled, poking his side. She was standing on her tiptoes on a chair, leaning so much to look at the book that was surely going to fall soon.

“Ah, you’re right,” he hummed nodding, “You’re so good at reading already,” he patted her head with a small smile.

“Daddy! Not with the hand with the flour!” But she was laughing happily even as her hair became white, faking to push him away in her pretty violet apron.

“We’ll take a bath later while we wait for the cookies then,” He reassured her and she faked to pout.

“Together?” Ume inquired, usually against the idea of bathing. Drying her long hair took too much time.

“Together.”

She seemed satisfied and resumed looking at his calm dad as he prepared the dough for the cholate cookies.

“Can’t I eat it?” she asked at some point, eyeing it with a hungry face. She even licked her lips.

“It’s bad for your tummy.” Her dad snatched away the bowl and the girl whined, batting her eyelashes.

“Pleaseeee!” Oh, the puppy face.

Murasakibara sighed. Well, he had never been a responsible adult when food was concerned.

“Here,” conceded stretching her a spoon of dough. She chirped and ate it immediately, humming in approval.

Then they started to finally make the cookies with cute animal-shaped cutters. She made each one meticulously and nodded proudly when they came out right: it wasn’t that easy when some animals had so many legs.

“Ah! Let’s use the kangaroo!”

“Uh? I thought you didn’t like it?”

“It reminds me of Uncle Aomine.”

Murasakibara nearly choked on his saliva. Useless to say he was going to tell his friend as soon as he saw him.

“I had a wonderful idea!” Ume suddenly exclaimed, “We should do all the cookies like the Uncles and the invite them to eat!”

The man had to suppress another laughter.

“Are you sure you want to share? They eat a lot.” He teased and the child scrunched her nose.

“Well, maybe we can share only some of them…?”

“Deal.”

Kuroko Tetsuya

Kuroko looked around the small living room, a smile ghosting on his lips.

“Ah…let’s see, where could Rai be?” ha asked purposefully aloud, hands on his hips. He heard a chuckle but feigned ignorance and went to look under the table in the middle. Then he checked under the couch and inside some boxes of toys.

“Nothing!” he exclaimed surprised and shook his head, “Is it magic?” he wondered, searching behind the door and then in the oven of the small, plastic kitchen.

Another fit of giggling.

He could see her daughter hidden behind the curtains; she had his vanishing powers, but on the other hand, her voice was thrilling and after she had learned to talk he did never fear to lose her around again. To his immense relief.

“What if she has left me?” he asked sitting on the ground and crossing his arms, “I’d be heartbroken, my cute Rai.” He wasn’t the best or most emotional actor, but for his daughter was enough.

She tensed and silenced, a bit worried and Kuroko sighed again.

“I want to cry, I miss her so much…”

“DADDY!” The little girl rushed out of his hiding and flew in his arms, “I’m here!”

Kuroko burst into a laughter, hugging her close.

“Here you are! So, you didn’t abandon me?”

Rai pouted and poked his right cheek, “I’d never abandon you! Did you forget we were playing hide N seek again?” she scolded him.

Kuroko widened his eyes and nodded, “You’re too good at this, I forgot and got scared.”

The girl chuckled covering his mouth; she was satisfied that her dad missed her so much.

“Dad you’re hopeless!”

Kuroko laughed fondly, “Yes, I couldn’t live without you.”

She nodded and left a kiss on his nose, “Don’t worry, I’m staying here forever” reassured him before she grabbed his hand and tried to pull him up, “Let’s try again! This time I’m going to search for you!”

“Are you sure?” he mocked, knowing that he was extremely good at that game, but Rai rolled her eyes like an adult.

“Yes, I can win against you. I’m the only one who can always find you, I’m your princess!” she professed with a proud smile and Kuroko melted inside, ruffling her light blue hair as he stood up.

“Alright, I count on you then.”

Midorima Shintarou

“And then the knight took his sword and-”

“Does he want to kill the dragon?” The voice of her daughter, Yoshiko, interrupted Midorima.

They were in her bed, tucked under the blanket in their pajamas. It was their daily, special moment together: Midorima reading her stories and fairy tales. However, as always, she didn’t like how things went and Midorima had learned to adapt fast to her tastes. She was a smart child, but she thought about things too much and simple stories didn’t entertain her too much.

“I think so,” he replied, biting down a smile as he saw a pout on her lips.

“Why?”

“The knight wants to kill the dragon so that he can save the princess,” he explained patiently and she crossed her arms.

“That’s stupid!”

Midorima raised an eyebrow, “Language, Yoshiko.”

The child widened his eyes covering her mouth and smiled sheepishly, “Sorry dad!”

Midorima knew it was Takao’s fault for that, even if he was incredible with children he didn’t have filters, and sighed.

“Why you don’t like it?” he asked instead of scolding her too much and she darkened again.

“If I were the princess, I’d have befriended the dragon and left on my own.”

Midorima chuckled amused, “It sounds more interesting.”

“Yes! I mean, it’s a dragon! You can’t kill it! We could go on fantastic adventures!” she thrilled tugging his sleeve and he decided to close the book, placing it on the bedside table.

“Really?” he asked faking surprise and she nodded.

“Yes! Do you want me to tell you our story?”

“I’d love it,” he smiled before pulling her closer to his chest and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She snuggled comfortably against him and fought a yawn.

“Once upon a time, there were Princess Yoshiko and his dragon Shin-chan…”

Kagami Taiga

The living room of the Kagami’s was full of roars, laughter, and giggles. Kagami Taiga himself was crouched on all four in the middle of the carpet, emitting animal noises as his daughter Hikaru fought him with a wooden sword. He had even some whiskers drawn on his face and the girl wore a pink dress.

“How could you kill my prince, you monster!” she screamed, a cape on her shoulders as she angrily waved her weapon.

Kagami growled and clawed at her. She shrieked but avoided, before launching against him with a battle yell.

“DIE!” Hikaru hit his heart.

Kagami raised on his knees with an incredulous expression, keeping the sword against his chest. He emitted a pained cry and staggered around, then stretched a hand towards her daughter and dramatically whispered a broken…”P-prin-cess…”

Finally, he fell on the floor and closed his eyes.

The girl covered his mouth and reached him to cradle his head.

“Oh no! I could! He was my prince and I killed him!” she sobbed hard curling around him and caressing his hair.

Some seconds passed in silence before Kagami tapped her hand and opened his right eyes.

“Hikaru, for the magic to work, you have to close your eyes!” he whispered.

“Ah!” she remembered, immediately shutting her eyes closed, “Sorry dad!” replied, worried that their inexistent public could hear them.

Kagami repressed a snort and slowly stood up, as his daughter continued to cry; he draped a red cape on his shoulders and took a plastic sword and a crown. Then he knelt and shook the girl.

“My princess,” he called in a serious tone, “I’m here! You killed me when I was a dragon, but your warm tears of true love have saved and brought me back to life!”

She gasped loud, “My prince!” and jumped in his arms, as he spun her in the air.

“You’re alive!”

“It’s all thanks to your magic!” He kissed Hikaru on the forehead and she beamed happily.

“Now we’re going to live happily forever after!”

Kagami nodded and suddenly lifted the girl to put her on his shoulders.

“And I can still transform into a dragon now that you saved me, so we can fly towards new adventures!”

The child chirped and laughed delighted, grabbing his hair.

“Then let’s fly to the end of the world and back!”

“As you wish my princess!” Kagami grinned before he started running all around the apartment.

 Mitsuko: Child (of) Light

Yua: Yu is “tie, bind” and A “love”, but Yu can also be “excellence” or “gentleness”

Aiko: Little Love

Ume: Plum

Rai: Trust

Yoshiko: Child (of) Wisdom/Righteousness, but Yoshi can be also “good luck”

Hikaru: Brightness

[tuxiedjabberwock]

King’s Court - Fairy Tail, two-shot

Natsu x Lucy

3148

Romance

T/M

First part

“You live in the castle?” Lucy gasped, hands clasped over her mouth as she beheld the old stone building. Moss and ivy crept up the edges where mortar met earth (someone wasn't doing their job — oh well) and feebly grasped the bases of the many floor-to-ceiling windows. Elaborate carvings adorned the oak double doors down to the dragon-head knockers and each spire seemed to pierce the heavens themselves, they were so massive. Natsu, on the other hand, appeared entirely bored with it all as he seized the ring of the knocker.

 “Let's see who's on guard today . . .” He slammed the brass into the pedestal with the strength needed to break a neck for whatever reason. Lucy could feel her teeth quivering from his force. A deep rumble growled through the air and both of them gave the doors ample berth as they opened, revealing a sparkling marble entryway, and partly blocking that view was the world's most despised Ice-prick (at least, in Natsu's book he was).

 “Oh,” said Gray, rolling his eyes at the sight of Natsu. Then he caught sight of Lucy, who gave a somewhat tense smile, and blanched. “Oh. I see you screwed up grandly today. You know, I was just wondering what new heights your idiocy could reach.”

 “Cram it, Fullbuster . . . but find your pants when you do,” he added with a pointed look at Gray's blue undergarments. Gray simply rolled his eyes, as unaffected as the both of them to his indecency, instead stepping aside to allow Natsu his walking space.

 “What to do with your guest?” he inquired as Natsu unwound the strings of his cloak. It tumbled to the marble in a downy heap, baring his gold-edged vest and plain canvas shorts.

 “Eh . . . just give her a guest room. And clothes . . . Mira's should fit I guess.”

 “That's all you have to say?” tried Gray, but he had already taken his leave. He grumbled to himself about the “pink-haired moronic dick” while side-eyeing Lucy cautiously, eventually resigning himself with a weary sigh. “Well, what's done is done, I guess,” he decided, raising a shoulder as he turned and stalked purposefully away. Lucy wasn't the brightest street rat, but she took his gesture as a means for following, so she did. Not that she had much of an option, what with being in an unknown setting and all.

 “So,” Lucy began as they moved along corridors of polished marble and elaborate tapestries woven of fire red and polished gold. “Natsu is?”

 “Something of a lord,” Gray responded with the curt tone of one unused to and unwilling for questions. Still, she persisted.

 “Something? What are the caveats?”

 “Look . . . Lucy,” he said, fishing a moment for her name among other superfluous information. “You’re an interest of his. Interests are, by definition, ephemeral. You’ll be here until he finds another interest and then you’ll be back to what you were doing.” She was silent, which he took to be shock without turning to examine her expression. “It’s only the way he is.”

 “You think that’s any skin off my back?” she said flatly, gleaning a semi-amused look from him. “I just go back to doing what I was, making a good living.”

 “If that’s what you call a good living, you need to do some self-evaluation.”

 “You’re one to talk, aren’t you?” Lucy smirked at him. “Working in a nice castle.”

 “I did what I had to to get here,” was all he said, clamming up again. He led her to a wooden door unlocked by key, opening her eyes to a neat room with a four-poster bed as large as her apartment and draped in finery better than her own. She stepped inside with the lush cobalt carpeting tickling the spaces between her toes as Gray sidled past her and to a cherry-wood armoire. Ornate dresses bearing the shades of all nature and then some went flying to the sheets without a care, even as Lucy saw them packed with careful precision within the drawers and on hangers, before he finally drew one set over his arm alongside a fistful of lacy undergarments. Haven’t worn those in a while, Lucy thought with a self-satisfied smirk that bordered shame. He set them on the bed, then drew a pair of ballet flats from the lowest shelf and set them on the ground. With a nod in her direction, he left Lucy to it.

Natsu found the affair of being important . . . fairly boring. He had papers to sign, babies to kiss, yadda yadda yadda — he was much more impressed walking the streets of Crocus, drinking in the sights and sounds of his environment, tasting the extortionate vendor food and gulping comparatively cheap beer in alleyway hobbles. It was imprudent, it was mind-numbing, and a hell of a lot more fun than sitting behind a desk being stiff. But then, every once in a while, he met a beauty that broke through the stupor, and he felt as if things were worthwhile. A knock on the door, and that beauty was back.

 Mirajane’s dresses looked . . . better on her. Ah, that was a gross understatement. It appeared Gray had chosen one of silks very similar to her own, all pastel yellows and rose golds and burgundy like wine, and how appropriate too, for he became intoxicated as he drank in the sight of her. The bodice hugged her figure as a mother, bringing up her already abundant cleavage, and the diaphanous sleeves danced about her arms with skill that nearly rivaled hers. The tripartite layers of ruffled velvet and fabric blossomed from her wide hips and came to a halt at her ankles, where her bangles and bell ribbons jangled and tinkled softly against her small feet. They were still bare.

 “The shoes . . . hurt,” she supposed after a moment of careful deliberation, following his eyes. “So I opted out of wearing them.” He smiled a little.

 “That’s fine.” She scowled slightly, crossing her arms.

 “What’s the joke here?”

 “Nothing, really. I’d usually get an apology, but you didn’t, is what I’m smiling about.”

 “Hmm.” She ghosted about the circular office with the same grace that adorned her and dripped from her every extremity like the sweetest honey, tips of her fingers drifting over a bust of a dragon’s head. “You like dragons, do you? The castle reeks of the paraphernalia.”

 “It’s, ah, on the coat of arms.” He indicated said coat of arms with his thumb over his shoulder, pointing out the circular gold-leaf plate inscribed with a dragon’s roaring head. “It’s one of the things Dragneels are known for.”

 “That so?” But she was prevaricating and both of them knew it. “So, what will you do with me?”

 “Nothing, really,” he admitted with a shrug, meeting her dubious glance. “I told you the truth: I thought that this would be a better life for you.”

 “I live the life that I deserve,” she remonstrated. He waved a hand at nothing in particular, expression hard.

 “So you think you deserve a life getting taken up and beaten for a handful of Jewel?” he enquired bluntly. Her cheeks colored to some extent as she bit her lower lip, eyebrows drawn in aggravation. “I don’t think anyone deserves to be like that, honestly.”

 “But you chose me,” she said flatly. It was his turn to flush, and he turned away. “What makes me special, huh? I’m a nobody as far as things go.”

 “What makes you special,” he repeated softly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “I wonder . . .”

 “Your guard told me that you have interests,” Lucy said, taking a step closer. “Things that come and go on a whim. When you tire of me, what then?”

 “What? That’s — That’s not how it works,” he said defensively, rising. Her steps quickened until she was nose to nose with him, the fine strands of her hair ticking his throat.

 “Then how does it work? Tell me,” she murmured into the space between them. “I’m a charity case?”

 “No. No way.”

 “Then you wanted a performer of your own?”

 “I told you, no!” he repeated vehemently. She recoiled but recovered quickly.

 “Then why, Natsu? Tell me.” He dropped his head for a moment, then returned her gaze with a look so soft, so vulnerable, it made her flinch for altogether different reasons.

 “I wanted you,” he said quietly. “Your . . . Your heart, okay?”

 “My heart,” she repeated dully. “You’re kidding me.” But his expression was far from jovial. She recoiled as if she had been physically wounded, eyes squinted from the ethereal agony. “. . . You’re pining for a poisoned vessel, you know. One and all that’s been in my heart — Mama, Father, Aqua — they’ve lost themselves, then lost their lives. You’d be better off getting some now and letting me walk away.” He gave a world-weary sigh as he walked from behind the desk, easing past her.

 “My mother died giving birth to me,” he said without turning around. “And my father died protecting me. And when I was younger and an accident crippled me, my brother stressed himself to death taking care of me.” He spun back to face her with a wry smile. “So, I guess we’re both poison, huh?”

 “You—”

 “And either way, it doesn’t matter to me a person’s past. I don’t need to know the circumstances at all. What I know about you is what I’ve seen in your eyes, and that’s more than enough for me.”

 “Your innocence . . . it’s like a child’s,” she remarked, but her eyes were wide. “It’s . . . endearing.”

 “Thanks?”

 “It wasn’t exactly a compliment.” But, despite herself, Lucy began to smile, and then she laughed. He grinned at the sound. “I haven’t believed in good will for a long time now, but I suppose I can give it another try.”

 “Thank you, Lucy.”

 “Natsu.”

 “Yes?”

 “Dance with me.” It was a request spoken softly, but with no room for refusal. He was baffled as she stepped backwards, hiking up her skirts and securing them at her waist with the soft white sashes pinioned about the bodice. She tested her freedom before, satisfied, began to spin unhurried circles, arms up and fingers spread. Paralyzing. Sensual. Diaphanous silk provided just the faintest barrier over her similarly-formed skin, pale as milk and succulent to simply behold. Her eyes met his on her third revolution, and a catty smirk decorated her full lips. “Well?”

 “I don’t . . . I’ve never, uh . . .”

 “Try it.” She stepped closer, and once more, until they were flush together and breathing one another’s breath. Her hands swept over his arms, his neck, his face, and halted at his cheeks. Barely aware of his surroundings any longer, it was a faint thought that his feet had begun to move alongside hers, and his body was twisting with her movements. His focus was on those russet eyes of hers, framed by bountiful golden lashes, and the little curve of her nose and her soft lips. She twirled him, brought him against a wall, and he smiled with bated breath.

 “You’re good,” he commented. “But I already knew that.”

 “You’re good, too,” she responded, and stood up on her toes to press those soft, full lips to his cheek for a mere breath. “And I didn’t know that.”

  “Hnn.” And he laughed again, a jubilant sound. She smiled, but ultimately started laughing too, and they spun around the room that way, a disjointed dance that would last always.

[plaidstiel-wormstache]

Kiddo

This hear is my submit for Jenn @avasmommy224, it’s been an awfully long time coming, I’m so sorry it’s taken a while. But I hope you like it! Thank you to @whispersandwhiskerburn for being an AMAZING beta and giving me an extra idea for a part I quite enjoyed writing!

A/N: This is pure fluff and Daddy!Dean. BUT this is, however, personalised to Jenn, so it’s pretty much an OFC for you that are unlucky enough to not know this amazing Mama! P.S. This is the aesthetic she created for me - little did she know it was for her own request!

The building shook, the dust and soot blowing out of the door before Dean heard the actual explosion. He raced along the hall and skidded around the doorway, waving his hand in front of his face to clear the cloud. “Jenn! You alright?” He called out, the smoke dissipating enough for him to see her outline a few feet from the fireplace. She was pushing herself to a sitting position, wiping her face on her sleeve in the process. He closed the distance between them and helped her stand. “What happened?” He asked as she coughed. “Minor explosion!” She chuckled, wiping her hands on her jeans - though it didn’t do any good as she was covered head to toe in ash. Dean gave her a stern look, interrupting his check of her. “How was I to know that some of the bones had gunpowder in them?” She met his look with just as much bite. Dean chuckled then, hollow bones with gunpowder, that was definitely a first. “You look a right mess.” He smiled, wiping away the soot on the corner of her mouth with his thumb, kissing her now clean lips. “Yeah, well, ghost gone!” She sung, arms wide to the now unhaunted house. “And just in time.” Dean added, looking at his watch as they both started packing up. “With twenty minutes to spare actually!” Jenn said with a wink, lacing her arm around Dean’s waist as they walked out to the car.

Ava stood at the top of the school steps, looking out at the cars parked, all the parents waiting, she was looking for Sam, as that’s what she was told when leaving that morning. But then she spotted them, she jumped the stairs and bolted towards the couple, her bag bouncing on her back. “Mama! Dean!” She squealed, launching off the ground and into Dean’s arms, he caught her and hoisted her further up into his arms, sitting her on his hip. “How was school, kiddo?” Jenn asked, opening the back door for Dean to bundle Ava into the backseat. “Mr Mathison was telling us about demons and how everyone battles them and how it’s real difficult, so everyone should be aware of that. I don’t think he knows about salt, cause when I told him about putting salt by the door he gave me a weird look and sent me to the corner.” Ava huffed, folding her arms over her buckled seatbelt. Dean and Jenn shared a look in the front seat. “Sweetheart, I think he meant everyone has problems, that you’ve gotta be sensitive to.” Dean explained, looking in the rearview at the girl that had quickly become his own. “So why didn’t he just say that?” Ava questioned, the confused look on her face caused Jenn and Dean both to chuckle. “Sometimes it’s easier for people to describe their feelings as a thing.” Jenn tried, Ava sighed and looked out the window, contemplating that. “I still don’t get why he sent me to the corner, he could’ve sent his demons to the corner.” Ava muttered under her breath, making Jenn and Dean share a quick smile.

“Hey kiddo,” Sam greeted as Ava flew through the door, dumping her bag at the door and running to the lounge. “Hey Uncle Sam?” She asked, jumping over the back and turning to face him. “Yeah, princess,” He squatted behind the couch, face to face with his adopted niece. “Why do you want me to be in the army?” She inquired, her face scrunched, watching him carefully, not understanding when he looked confused then began to laugh. “History lesson, huh?” Sam stood and ruffled her hair, “This Uncle Sam,” he jabbed himself in the chest with his thumb, “Is very different to the Uncle Sam you’re learning about!” Sam explained. “Cause you don’t have a big hat and a white beard?” She quizzed. “That’s it, kiddo!” He said, exaggerating a point with his index finger. Ava swiped his finger out of her face and turned on the cushion, flicking the TV on. “I don’t think so.” Jenn called as she and Dean came through the door, Dean picking up her bag and bringing it with him to the dining table. “You know the rules,” Dean called from his seat, “Homework first,” “Then TV.” Ava moaned, rolling her eyes as she shut off the TV and joined Dean at the table, unzipping her bag and retrieving her book. “What happened to you?” Sam asked, not missing the smudges of soot still over Jenn’s jaw and the ash still in her hair. “Gun powder in hollow bones.” She said matter-of-factly, leaving Sam with that thought as she moved around him in the kitchen fixing herself a bourbon and coke. “What?” Sam said, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow, declining her offer of a drink. She poured another for Dean as she explained the successful hunt. “Done with math! Anything else?” Dean asked, closing the textbook and putting it back in Ava’s bag for her. She leaned over him and delved into her bag, using his arm as a way to steady herself as she balanced in his lap. “What’s happening in here?” Jenn asked, placing Dean’s drink down on the table, kissing the top of his head, helping Ava sit back up as she produced the next book. “This!” Ava waved a piece of paper around above her head, “It’s my first assignment!” She said excitedly, finally putting it on the table, smoothing it out for Dean to read. “An assignment, what could you -” Dean began, stopping to continue reading. “A solar system.” Jenn said, amused, this should be fun to watch Dean try and help to construct. Dean scratched the back of his neck and looked up at Ava. “Uncle Sam will be able to help you better than I can, kiddo.” Dean informed, he actually sounded sorry to be palming it off. Dean had taken on homework duties as soon as he’d moved in with the Mother and Daughter duo. Ava pouted but nodded all the same. “Uncle Sam?” She called, taking the sheet of paper and disappearing up the stairs to find Sam. “Have I ever told you how good you are with her?” Jenn asked, leaning against the table, her leg touching Dean’s. He sat back and smiled up at his wonderful partner. He ran his hand up the inside of her leg, ever so slowly, the smile turning into dirty smirk, full of filthy promises. “All the time, Mama.” He stood slowly, his fingers grazing lazily up, between her legs, over her hip, around her waist, up her back, finally resting at the base of her neck, pulling her closer. He took the glass out of her hand and put it on the table next to his. “Would you like one of your own?” Jenn whispered, the mood suddenly turning as she broached a subject that they’d often joked about but never seriously discussed. “She is my own.” Dean muttered against Jenn’s mouth, sealing his sentence between her lips. She smiled as Dean pulled back upon hearing Sam’s boots on the stairs, Ava giggling and telling him to put her down. This was her slice of heaven, her home. Sure Dean and Jenn weren’t married, and Ava wasn’t his daughter. But often you’ll find; family don’t end in blood.

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