#Jessica Veranda

[lil-spider]

So Damn Pretty

Chapter 10

Part 9 : Part 11

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter X Female Reader

Summary: Johnny is sex starved and you’re very attractive, so attractive that he doesn’t want to kill you. Instead he finds ways to keep you around longer.

Note: The story is coming closer to completion but that’s okey cause I’m gonna be in this fandom forever even if it has died a little lol. I’ve got plenty of Johnny fics planned :3. This chapter is for those who have been so patient! Love you all😘

Warning: This is 18+ and please do not read if your sensitive to heavy descriptions of non/con and violence. Including bondage, blood, gore, assault, objectification and unsafe sex. For those who don’t mind, I hope you enjoy.

I stare vacantly at the couple of eggs on my plate, not feeling hungry for them. I sink further into my seat and take a glance over at Johnny. Its just him and me sitting at the dining table; the rest of the family have already finished up their breakfast, but it seems he has an appetite this morning, digging in his second plate of crispy bacon. I look back at the two eggs; things in pairs have been bothering me lately. It seems my mind still can't get over those two girls. I thought I would be over it; at the time, it didn’t bother me, but the guilt comes in waves. Crashing heavily against my consciousness. I try to keep it down, not letting it depress me. I've gained trust from the family, and I don’t want to ruin it with my emotions. 

 

With their trust comes more leniency. So much so that Drayton brings me along to the gas station, helping him out with whatever he tasks me with. 

 

A surprising amount of locals come by. They didn’t question me; they just went about their own business. I didn't know how to go about it. I guess no one back home really cares that I'm missing. Even though I'm somewhat content with my current situation, I can't help but feel sad. No one bothered at all to look for me. I know I didn't have much family, but Nate and Jessica sure did; both came from big families. There should be people searching for them. 

 

I quickly moved on from those thoughts, especially now that it's too late to go back. It's easier to just focus on other things. Even if there isn't much to focus on,.

 

At least today I can spend the rest of my time with Johnny out in the field. I love keeping him company while he works on the cars, and sometimes I help out by passing him tools or handing him a rag.

I glance over at him again while I smoosh around my runny eggs with my fork. He shoots me a small grin. I was going to smile softly back at him until a sudden shot of nausea hit me. Instead, I must have given him an ugly face because he looked at me with a raised brow. 

 

Salvia starts poring up into my mouth, and with panic, I sit up, making the chair scratch on the floor, and bolt past Johnny to the front door, slamming it open. No longer able to hold it down, I grip the veranda's handrails tightly, lean over, and vomit my breakfast onto the poor bushes below.

 

"Ya' alright, darlin'?" Johnny asks as he walks up behind me, confused. He sees what is happening and places a large hand on my back and rubs it in soft circles while I spew out misery. Thinking I was finished, I turned around to face him, smiling wearily, but a second punch of nausea came flying in, and I turned back to vomit in the bushes again.

 

“I’ll go get Sissy.” He says this, grimacing at the sight of me puking, unsure of what to do.

 

He leaves, and in a quick minute, a concerned Sissy comes with a damp hand towel, and she guides me to take a seat on the white bench, dabbing my forehead while I try not to throw up straight bile.

 

"Oh, pumpkin, this is not good," Sissy worries, still wiping my face. Johnny comes back outside, also looking concerned. 

 

“Take her to the living room, Johnny; she needs to lay down.” Sissy tells him, feeling my forehead and checking for my temperature. I’m not sure if I’m sick; I don’t feel hot. 

 

Johnny, grumbling at being told what to do, still picks me up bridal style, carrying me effortlessly to the living room, and lays me down gently on the cowhide-covered couch.

 

“What’s wrong with her?” Johnny asks, turning to Sissy, wanting an answer to my sudden sickness. She places an old, rusty bucket down next to me, just in case I get sick again. 

 

"Well, she ain’t burnin' up. Maybe it’s something she ate.” She’s replies are also confused about my sudden sickness. 

 

I lay there on the couch, trying to keep whatever wants to come up down while Sissy and Johnny keep me company for a bit. It’s comforting to see how much they seem to care for me. However, after under an hour of resting and sipping on some water, I feel much better.

 

“I'm feeling better.” I said this to both of them, who looked surprised and relieved about my comeback.

 

“Somethin' must've upset ya' then.” She reasons. With that little incident over with, the rest of the day goes by as normal without any sign of sickness. It must have been something I ate. 

 

That’s what I believed until the very next morning, and then the next thing happened on the third day. Sissy keeps my hair away from my face while rubbing my back. 

 

It's another morning, and I'm back outside vomiting; it seems to be my usual puke spot outside on the veranda. 

 

 I know I've made everyone else concerned now. I can hear Nubbins questioning Johnny about why I'm throwing up so much. But he wouldn't get a solid answer from him, as he is just as clueless about my ongoing vomiting. I don’t understand either; at first, I thought I was dying, but what Sissy came up with seemed worse than dying. Her sweet voice contradicts the heavy words coming out of her mouth. I feel like I've been strapped to an anchor, and it's dragging me down, deep below. 

 

 “I think you may be pregnant, sugar; you ain’t got no fever, and sure, dang, know Johnny hasn’t been innocent with you." She explains smoothing my messy hair. 

 

Now I feel like I’m really drowning. Oh, my good I’m pregnant, oh fucking hell. It explains everything: the weight gain, my emotions playing up, and of course the morning sickness. My legs start to wobble. Holy shit, I’m pregnant with Johnny’s baby. 

Sissy notices my shaky form and decides to help me back inside. Holding my arms steady, she shuts the door behind us with her foot while leading me to the sofa. As I sit, she’s skipped off to grab a glass of lemonade while I try to calm down. Just as quickly as she left, she came back with a glass of delicious cold lemonade. Sissy places the drink in my shaky hands as I take a sip. Its sweet yet bitter flavour soothes me. 

 

“When I was in California, some of her sisters from the ranch always threw up every morning when they were pregnant. It's called morning sickness, and it's always a telltale sign that you're going to have a baby.” She explains joyfully, sitting down right next to me and giving me an excited hug. 

 

She then claps her hands together cheerfully. "Oh, how joyous a little baby!" She throws her thin arms around me again in another big hug while I sit frozen, completely gobsmacked by the revelation that I'm pregnant. I guess I must have forgotten how babies were made while I’ve been here; Johnny and I have been going at it enough. There is no denying that.

 

I placed my lemonade down on the coffee table and placed a hand over my belly. Johnny's baby is growing inside me and will later give birth to his baby. 

Sissy stands back up, going over to a sleeping grandpa. I didn't realise he was there. But Sissy, with all her excitement, accidentally woke him up, to which she apologised by telling him about the new member of the family and how he’s going to be a grandpa again. How many generations old is this baby going to make grandpa? I wonder.

Grandpa Sawyer just let out these wistful groans in reply. Sissy explains that he’s excited for a new grandchild. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand him. 

Then Johnny comes stomping in, shirtless and sweaty from being outside in the Texas heat. "What’s all the squealing you’re making? I can hear it from outside." He asks, annoyed. 

I would've hoped Sissy would keep my pregnancy to herself until I was ready to tell her, but instead she just blatantly spills out to him that I'm pregnant. 

“Bout’ time.” He says plainly, I gap at his laid-back attitude on this situation. He turns to my surprised face, and he smirks. He inches closer, bending down so his face is in front of mine. 

“I told ya I wanted to be a dad, didn’t I? It’s why I've been working so hard on you.” His smirk widens as my face flushes red in embarrassment. Have I been baby trapped?

The day goes by like usual, even though I'm an emotional, vomiting mess. Now during dinner, and for some odd reason, I never get sick eating supper. The smell of any other food makes me queasy, except cooked meat. My mouth starts to drool when I smell it being cooked. Just barely being able to keep anything else down has made me famished, and tonight, Drayton's chilli has never tasted better. Going in for seconds and now thirds.

“I should've made extra batches just for the way you eat, girl.” Drayton commented, slightly impressed with how much I can put down. 

“It’s just so good.” I moan out with a mouthful of chilli.

“It's better than good; it's the best chilli in the whole damn county.” Cook proudly states, sitting up a bit straighter.

“Oh god, enough of the chilli talk.” Johnny groans out, already frustrated with the conversation.

“Y-yeah enough!” Nubbins joins in, trying to entice a fight. 

"Oh, shut it; look at the girl; she loves it.” He points over to me, still stuffing my face with utter pleasure. 

“No more of this arguing! Y/N is in a delicate situation, and I want none of ya' messing that up!” Sissy puts her bit in, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. Ironically, this is her way of enticing an argument.

“What delicate situation, girl? She's just hungry.” Drayton asks, confused by Sissy’s words. 

“She’s pregnant, and ya' can't do anything about' it.” Sissy again spills the beans on my pregnancy, but now to the rest of the family. 

I look over at Johnny puasing my eating to see his reaction to Sissy not being able to keep anything to herself. “They'll find out sooner or later.” He just sinks further back into the chair, crossing his muscular arms under his chest, waiting for the onslaught of words from Drayton. 

Bubba, who is next to me, is the first to react. He places his large hand on top of his head and pats it, like if I were a puppy. He groans gleefully, I guess, letting me know that he is happy with the new addition. He can be a real gentle giant when there isn't anyone to murder. 

Cook has gone absolutely red as a tomato, while nubbins start snickering. "Oooh, J-Johnny, I-I-is in trouble.” It seems the night has gone his way for wanting drama.

"God, Damnit, boy, I knew this would happen. You can’t control yourself, can you? Always chasing tail, and now a baby.” Drayton stood up at the start of his rant but now has sat down, looking almost deafted.

“Your mother will go ballistic once she finds out.” Drayton points his finger at Johnny, warning him.

“Shut it, old man! You got nothing to worry about; it’s bout time; we’re all getting old, and we gotta keep the family going.” He counters Drayton's words. 

It looked like Nubbins wanted to say more, but with Johnny quickly standing up and leaving, it was pointless. 

Dinner practically finished up after that fight, and I just sat there silently, not sure what to do. I was supposed to help clean up, but I sneakily decided to go find Johnny. Anyway, with all the commotion still going on with Nubbins and Sissy messing with Drayton, it’s best I stay away. 

I check the front veranda; Johnny has a few smoke spots he always goes to: the front, the back garden, and his shed. But luckily, my first guess was right, as I found him sitting on the outdoor bench. While walking to him, he quickly puts on his smoke, squishing it under his boot. “Shouldn’t smoke around you anymore.” He grins at me, and just as I take a seat, he places his warm hand on my stomach. 

“The second I saw you, I knew you were the perfect girl to have my kid. So fucking pretty, I'm going to look after the both of you, I promise.” 

His words send tingles all throughout your body; it’s electrifying. You place your hand over his, smiling back at him.

“Soon you’re going to get real big, darlin’; ya tits are going to get nice and fat too.” He teases with humour, but a familiar, hungry look starts building in his eyes. 

As he inches closer to me, his large hand moves away from mine and glides up, grabbing a breast. He squeezes it firmly before starting to massage it. His warm breath is on my neck as he kisses right below my jaw. Wetness begins to pool in my panties. 

“Run up the stairs to your room and undress before I take you right here.” As much as I wanted to tease him, it’s better to listen, or he really would take me here, in any position too. He gets very creative when he's horny. 

I get up and leave, going to my room just as instructed. I closed the door behind me and set myself on the bed to undress. I wore a blue sundress today, so I just unzipped the side and let it slip right off. Leaving me in my white panties. Even though it didn’t take me long to undress, it wasn't quick enough for Johnny. He was already here, striding in and locking the door behind him, already semi-undressed too.

“Come on, darlin', only your panties left to go; take em off for me.” I happily obliged, hooking my fingers into the side, purposefully bending over, and sliding them down. 

I look back to see the bulge in his jeans while he takes them off. Now he is just as naked as me. I will never get tired of looking at his body. His large muscles, pecs, sprinkled on chest hair leading down to his happy trail—the sight of his scars always makes me throb. Fuck, he is gorgeous.

With my ogling, I fail to notice him getting closer. Wrapping his large arms around me, he whispers into my ear, “I want you to take a seat on my face while keeping your mouth busy with my cock.” He groans before going to lay down on the bed. This is a new position, and with only a little hesation, I gingerly climb over him, placing my legs on the side of his head. Before I sink down, he grabs my hips roughly, bringing my swollen heat to his mouth. 

I gasp as his tongue slides back and forth over my clit. I lean further down, grinding my wetness along his mouth needing more. His impressive cock, comes into view, precum leaking out; it’s red and aching to be sucked. 

I lick his tip timidly before taking his whole length, making a sloppy mess while focusing on his head, I hear him groan as I go deeper. His grunting sends small, delightful vibrations along my clit.

My muffled moans fill the room as he holds me in place, my aching pussy being devoured while I simultaneously suck off Johnny. I hallow out my cheeks, pinch my lips, and let my tongue slide along his shaft. Working extra hard to get him to finish first. 

It's difficult; he knows exactly how to get me off. He knows where I'm most sensitive and what feels best. My plans to make him cum first are starting to falter; I'm struggling to even keep myself steady. I put my tired arms on top of his muscular thighs, giving them a rest. I take a deep breath and continue to encompass his cock, swirling my tongue along the base. I’m a little sloppy with the rhythm now, but I don’t think he cares. 

I can feel my orgasm building as Johnny doesn’t even stop for air, still sucking and licking my clit with undying hunger. His grip on my hips still remains strong, making me unable to pull away. 

My limbs are starting to become sore. Needing him to finish, I start sucking his cock faster, my salvia drenching him, making it easier for it to slide along my tongue. My moans turn to whines as my own orgasm is right on the edge. 

I feel him twitch in my mouth while his groans continue from below. "Fuck, I’m gonna cum." I choked out, stopping to take a deep breath. 

Johnny slides his hands along my thighs as his tongue stays strong, massaging my clit, while keeping a steady pace.

I take his throbbing length back into my mouth right before my orgasm hits. The force of it makes my legs turn to jelly while I moan incoherently around him. I try to move away, my clit becoming increasingly sensative, but his hands grip back to my hips, holding me captive while he moves his hot tongue in my cunt, licking up my juices as he thrusts himself deeper down my throat. Not letting me until he cums. 

I’m a whimpering mess; my thighs squeeze his face while I lick and sucking, getting him closer so my poor pussy can have a break. 

My efforts were deemed successful as his cock started to twitch and stiffen. With my last lick, he spills himself. He groans as his cock pulsates while I swallow his whole load. With revenge, I continue to suck him, knowing he's going sensitive. He hisses and quickly pulls me off.

“Naughty girl,” he chuckles, slapping my ass hard.

I yelp from the harsh slap and roll my body to the side, recovering from the intense orgasm. Johnny, too, lays still panting. I move up and lay my head on his chest. He throws an arm around me as we both relax into each other. 

Before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep on his chest. 

It's in the middle of the night that I wake up to long, thick fingers inside me, thrusting in and out slowly. 

“You awake, baby?” Johnny asks, now teasing my hard clit with his thumb. I moan out in response, gripping the bedsheets.

"Yeah, does that feel good?" His whispers, his face moving into the crook of my neck, his hardness pressing up against me.

"Ah-ah.” I try to say yes, but it’s morphed into moans.

“Fuck, your tight baby girl, gonna' feel so good when I put it in. He groans while I spread my legs further apart from his words. I'm going to cum soon with the way he’s going.

Instead, he pulls his fingers back, slides over on top, and plunges his hard cock inside me. He slips his wet fingers into his mouth, tasting myself, while his cock goes further deep inside. 

I groan out while he stretches me. A mixture of sleepiness and arousal makes me clench around him. Johnny, in turn, pulls out his fingers, replacing them with his tongue and pushing it into my accepting mouth as he starts a fast rhythm, pounding into me.

All noise is blocked out, except for my moans and the slapping sound of his cock fucking in and out of my sopping hole. 

“I'm going to keep you on my cock forever.” He groans into my ear, grabbing onto my swinging chest. Groping the fatty flesh.

I whimper at the thought of being his cock slave, as if I weren’t already. 

He sits up, holding my hips tightly in one hand, and as the other goes to rub my clit, I hold my tits, stopping their swinging from his hard thrusts.

“I'm going to be full of milk soon.” I moan out, teasing him, thrusting back against his cock. I felt his cock twitch as he groans, knowing he's imaging my tits spilling milk. The hand that was squeezing my hip goes to squish a boob, swatting my hand away and pinching the nipple.

I throw my head back in ecstasy and wrap my legs around Johnny’s waist, getting closer to my second orgasm of the night. 

“Ya' gonna' cum on my cock, sweetheart?” He teases, rubbing my clit achingly slow.

I whine as he also starts to stop his thrusting, keeping me on edge. Repeatedly pulling himself fully out of my cunt and slowly pushing back in. 

Not giving in to his teasing, Johnny takes his cock and starts jerking it, leaving me feeling empty and frustrated. 

“Use your words, darlin'.” He groans out, now stopping his rubbing on my clit, only focusing on getting himself off. 

“Please! Please, I want to cum.” I moan wantonly, fucking desperate for him to continue.

It’s not enough; he is still waiting. 

 

“please daddy.” I moan, testing out a new nickname.

It does the trick as he groans deeply, gliding his hardness back inside me and thrusting away.

Relief floods me when his cock goes back into my aching heat. I’m so close to finishing. 

“I-I-I’m cumming!” I cry out as my pussy squeezes him tightly. My orgasm sends Johnny over the edge as he cums just as quickly inside me.

“Fuck yeah, baby, cum on daddy’s cock.” He moans out, shoving himself deeper. 

I whimper from the overly sensative feeling of being filled and having two orgasms in a short amount of time. 

It’s been a few weeks, and my bump has become more visible. It seems each day I just keep getting bigger and bigger. It does help my confidence that Johnny just can’t seem to keep his hands off me since I’ve become pregnant. It’s like the animal inside of him has changed. Becoming more protective and sex-hungry.

I won’t lie. Being pregnant has been a nice change; I’m doing less labour. Sissy considers me too delicate, and she doesn't want to stress the baby. Drayton has even been forcing Nubbins to actually clean up the messes he makes; he didn’t listen until Sissy and Johnny got on his ass about it too. Three against one, it took him to actually listen. It’s mainly bone scraps he leaves around, always making new traps. He even showed me how he makes him; it was impressive, especially how well they worked on the animals nearby. He explains that it was Grandpa who taught him everything he knows, from killing, slicing, and cleaning his blade, "back when Grandpa was still in his killing form." He told me enthusiastically. 

It’s hard to picture Grandpa in his so-called 'killing form', even if it was years ago. He's just so old and motionless, but with the way he enjoys his blood, I can understand that he may have been more ruthless than anyone here. 

Having less work has made me bored, only spending time in the lounge. I’ve been trying to find my stuff to do. I have no more clothes to patch up or anything to make. And I’ve cleaned so much that there is barely anything else to clean. I need to find something to do before I go crazy.

Johnny has noticed me being a little slumped, so he decided to bring inside some dead rabbits and teach me how to skin them. How lovey. Though it did cure my boredom, even if it was gross, and he did a much better job than me, he made it look so effortless. It was like it was his thousandth time doing it. Unfortunately, it probably was. During my time here, I learned that Johnny is an efficient hunter. The skulls of the animals and other people he killed are used as decorations in the house. 

Those rabbits that we skinned went into a crockpot meal with mashed potatoe; Sissy made it with a bunch of herbs and veggies from her greenhouse. You can't get this type of fresh food in the city. Not including people. 

I decided to try and work on my baking skills, asking Drayton if he could bring back some condensed milk so I could try to make some caramel fudge. He agreed; we already have butter and sugar, so it wasn't too much of an ask, and let’s just say my caramel fudge was a hit. Everyone has a surprising sweet tooth. Maybe not too surprising, as the pantry was stocked with tubs of chocolate drink powder. 

So now during the day, to help my boredom, I've been baking treats and deserts, and it's nice that everyone likes my baking. Even Johnny, who seemed like someone who hates sugar, eats up the sweets much like everyone else. Sissy always gets excited to see what I've made for dessert. She tells me it's become her favourite part of the day. 

Time goes by, and so I get even bigger. Including my chest, I think it's doubled in size; it’s embarrassing how big I’m getting. It doesn’t help that Nubbins snickers around me, poking fun at the size of his chest; he called me a cow one day, and sweet Bubba, who would do anything for his family, smacked Nubbins really hard on the back, making the lanky man tumble embarrassingly forward on the ground. which I've believed humbled him, as I got no more teasing after that.

Some of the spare clothes I’ve had that were modest are now very form-fitting and showy, just because of my growing size. Thankfully, there are old male button-up shirts that I can use to give myself some dignity. 

I don't even know why I worry about my dignity when I let Johnny strip me naked and put me in compromising positions. Thanks to my growing breasts, Johnny couldn’t seem to hold himself back, and now we've been fucking everywhere, more than before.

One moment I’m relaxing outside in the middle of the day, the next I’m nude, riding his cock on the old, ripped-out car seats out back near his shed. I have to hold on to his shoulders tightly because he's making me go. Moving me up and down. He does it purposefully because he likes watching my tits bounce. 

Being pregnant has made everything more sensitive. So when he places his mouth over my nipple and pinches the other, I almost cum. At least fucking outside, I get to be loud. I just hope no one is watching. 

But as I get closer to cumming, the less I care if anyone can see. I’m enjoying myself. So I throw my head back, and I grind down on Johnny while I peak. Milking his cock through my orgasm, he squeezes my chest, holds me down tightly, and fills me up with his hot cum.

Just as my chest grows, so does my ass, so a day later I’m on all fours, holding the headboard for dear life, trying to keep my moans low as Johnny slams into me from behind. He smacks my ass as I thrust back onto him. He grips the fat hard. Making sure this time I finish from his cock alone. Just as I came, he pulls out and pumps himself until he shoots his load over my clit  and pussy, making a mess. He reasons that since I'm pregnant, he can decorate me with his cum. He's especially loves shooting his cum over my face and chest. It's nice that he makes sure I have an orgasm right before he does.

Yes, all my assets may be growing; but most importantly, my stomach is too, With the baby getting bigger, Johnny's softer side comes out.

So now he has a pillow under my hips while he slowly ruts his cock while softly sucking my nipple. He slides his hand over my body, feeling all the curves. He slides his hands down and up my leg till he brings it over to my clit, rubbing it in delicate circles. I groan; going slow is new, but fuck, it still feels good to get pampered like this. 

 

“We’re not fucking like this all the time, are we?” I'm still addicted to the hard and fast fucking Johnny is known for. 

"Nah, Darlin, I just like the way you glow tonight and want it slow.” He says this while ironically speeding up, causing me to whimper.

As my orgasm gets closer, I hold his face in my hands and stare into his handsome eyes. “I love you, Johnny.” I pant out as I cum around him.

“I love you too, doll,” he responds, filling me up with his cum and kissing me hard.

[jennamacaroni]

Race-based chattel slavery is a keloid on the face of the United States, a thick scar that is our national birthmark.  But like those that are tribal markings and symbols of rank on the African continent, America's scar has deep meaning and signals a past that must be carefully examined.  It must be looked at in all its horror and degradation, complicity and confusion, for it tells us where and what we have come from.  What my mother showed me as she sat in a chair on the veranda of Houmas House is that it must also be examined in light of the creativity and talent and grace expressed by the enslaved under situations that ranged from the unpleasant to the unspeakable.  The American ways with music, dance, gesture, language, and yes, food all bear witness to that inheritance.

Jessica B. Harris, “High on the Hog: A Culinary Journey from Africa to America”

[dearcraziness]

Chapter 78.

On one of the cloudy days, the devils were spending their time at home in a measured way - Bendy was twisting pipes in the Spare tools Room, Lara was reading a new issue of the Ink City News in her room. Raindrops were slowly rolling down the glass of the slightly open window ; moisture from outside brought freshness and clean summer air. The noise outside the window delighted the ear with its monotony and rhythmicity, gently enveloping the mind with iridescent, luminous thoughts.

The young man closed the door, paving the way to his beloved with his gaze. The wizard entered quietly, approaching the desk. He conjured himself a second pair of hands, so that he could hug the girl; support the magazine she was looking at from behind; gently stroke the tip of her ponytail; run his palms through her hair, gently twisting long curls in turn on a huge finger.

"Have you found some interesting news for yourself, cinnamon?" the demon asked, warmly kissing the imp on the cheek and forehead. "Looks like you have plans to visit a new place - I see a ray of delight in your eyes."

"That's right, ginger, a boutique with fashionable clothes and stylish dresses in Western Edge will open in a week." the demoness smiled. "I'm thinking of going there to see the outfits."

"Great, I'll keep you company. By the way, about future plans..." the devil looked away, continuing his thought. "Do you remember, we were choosing holiday houses and found a wonderful option for ourselves: five rooms, two bathrooms, a spacious but cozy kitchen, a small living room, a spacious attic - and all in calm colours! A well-maintained terrace and a beautiful garden, turning immediately into a dense dense forest... On the other side of the house there's a veranda with indoor plants, a small glam-style building, completely glazed. Berry, shall we go to the 'Green Oasis' for a couple of weeks?"

"I'd love to spend time alone with you, nut." Lara raised her eyes, meeting Bendy's gaze. "Let's not waste a minute."

"I take you at your word!... An unforgettable journey awaits us, because every day with you, like a holiday, brings a sea of vivid impressions and precious memories..."

A couple of hours later, when Bendy prepared dinner in advance for friends left in the studio, the devils said goodbye to Boris and Alice and moved into the dimension of Ever-Blooming Plants. Sweethearts were observing the accommodation and were very satisfied with the interior in warm colours and brilliant furnishings. The young man and the girl, being in home clothes, remained in the small bedroom located on the right side of the corridor. Opposite the bed hung an ordinary widescreen TV, which the demon soon turned on; a movie was shown on the channel "Romance Forever", which interested the wizards, but soon caused mixed emotions with its twisted plot. Lara heard a funny quick dissatisfied murmur of her beloved and smiled.

"I don't understand, first Dylan meets with Jessica, then confesses his feelings to Marissa and says he has been in love with her for a long time... What's going on, anyway? Moreover, the characters are so frivolous about each other, as if this should make someone laugh. I know everyone has their own preferences, but is it really difficult to make a film about sincere feelings, touching love at least once in ten years? Where the characters, first of all, think about the well-being of their beloved and really worry about each other. But it turns out otherwise - solid comedies with strange humor - I don't even see a single funny episode, only attempts to joke. Simply put, it's all nonsense. Garbage."

The demon noticed the girl's soft laugh and smiled himself, stroking his precious head, her torso.

"Perhaps I'm reacting too emotionally to the behavior of others again..."

"It's okay, I'm always curious to know your opinion..."

"So do I, Laurie... And I suppose you would have watched the show on another channel."

"Yeah, let's see what sports are being played on the third channel..."

"What if football is being shown... It would be great to see the game live somehow, of course..."

The darkness of the night covered the forest wilderness, only the edge of the moon, emerging from under the clouds, illuminated the paths between trees and bushes. The lights went out in the bedroom, a peaceful silence reigned in the house.

The next morning, Bendy was putting the dish on plates and noticed Lara coming in and sitting down, waiting for goodies. Although, there was something missing in her pajamas... The demon blushed, cautiously asking, "Peony, shall I get you some shorts?... You probably feel cold without them."

"No thanks, I didn't wear them on purpose."

"Alright, just asked you in case you forgot..." the young man's voice sounded somewhat shaky.

The demon looked down and smiled nervously.

"You know, seeing you practically in your underwear feels like a privilege..."

"Good... I am pleased - when we are alone, you don't wear your magic costume..."

"Only you know how suits and other clothes look on me without the magical small transformations of my body... I have nothing to hide from you..."

"I understand now why you hide some parts of your body with magic..." Lara said, glancing below Bendy's waist and shifting her eyes to the side. The imp abruptly moved his lips, fidgeting in his chair trying to gather his thoughts into legible sentences.

"The main thing is that we always have a great time together; whether we are embarrassed in front of each other or not, we are equally comfortable, because you and I are able to talk even about awkward topics... Laurie, let me add : you constantly delight, surprise, attract, inspire me unimaginably... Whether you are dressed in sportswear or an evening dress, a bathrobe covers your whole body or you walk in underwear - you're incredibly beautiful and alluring to me in any case, you're very seductive and sexy, my honey miracle..."

"Finally, after seven years, you began to linger with your eyes not only on my face..."

"I just used to think it was impossible to look at the other parts of your body... But recently you convinced me the opposite..."

"I do this sometimes, why can't you?..."

"I was worried I'd make you uncomfortable or seem cheeky..."

"Don't worry, none of the above happened..."

"I also don't mind at all when you look at different parts of my body... Every piece of me belongs to you, whether it's my flesh or heart, soul..."

"After such catchy phrases, I won't be able to express my embarrassing sentence, well, it's okay..." the demoness hastily smiled.

"No, no, fishy, your words will only strengthen the warm mood of our conversation; the ideal moment to tell about your thoughts is the one in which your thoughts appeared... What were you thinking about, Laura?..."

"It just flashed through my head..."

"Yes, emerald?..."

"Even through your shorts, I can see your reproductive organ is quite long..."

"Oh, h-hope when we get intimate in the future, it'll give you pleasure... Damn, I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, dear..."

"Why?... I like to listen to your thoughts... There's nothing to apologize for, I like your words..."

"I just meant I like to give you happiness in different ways... I want to do with you what you want, fill your every day with bright emotions..."

The day of sweethearts proceeded smoothly and comfortably; Bendy and Lara happily and enthusiastically engaged in the usual creative activities, playing board games, solving a couple of puzzles; however, when evening came, a burning desire penetrated into the hearts to give each other pleasant feelings in a different way; putting aside collections of crosswords and sudoku, the devils began to caress each other with their lips, lying on the bed; the demon hugged his beloved gently and tightly, she was stroking his head and horns...

"My lovely flower, let me leave traces of kisses not only on your mesmerizing face... I want to cover your whole fascinating body with kisses... In the places where you allow me, of course..."

Later, sweethearts finished their drawins, praising each other, as usual, and gathered to walk along the inviting green paths with amazing nature; Bendy took a small box out of the drawer of the bedside table and, hiding the gift behind his back, approached Lara with the words, "Baby, before we go to explore the impressive landscapes of the dense forest, may I ask you one question?..."

"Of course, my ruby, go ahead..."

"We have spent so many years together, and I consider all the years of my life the best thanks to you... Probably, even after saying 'thank you' millions of times, I won't sufficiently describe my appreciation and admiration for you... I love absolutely everything about you: your behavior, your character, your habits, your opinion, your spiritual qualities, your sensitive heart, your irresistible appearance, your coal eyes full of miracles... But most of all I love you just for being who you are, I adore your magical personality... Stay true to yourself and your preferences, my comet, all your friends will be here to support you; I'm forever your most ardent fan... I wish to share eternity with you, go through every stage of our relationship and please you day after day, fulfilling your cherished dreams; you and your happiness are my priority, your smile illuminates the meaning of my destiny... I'm grateful to you simply for your existence; I'm glad to write the pages of our history with you... And so I decided to find out if you would like to..."

The imp swallowed sharply, bending the fingers of his free right hand, and continued, "Laura, would you like to... Be my fiancee?..."

The young man presented a gift at the moment, opening a cream case in front of his beloved; inside, on a little pillow, lay a smooth bracelet made of white gold with pendants: each figure reflected the interests of the girl, hobbies close to her soul. The imp looked at the decoration in surprise and, smiling good-naturedly, replied, "Of course, Bendy... I will be your fiancee..."

"Glad you accepted my offer, my little devil... Let me put a bracelet on your elegant wrist..."

The demoness stretched out her arm, bent at the elbow; the wizard placed the jewelry and kissed his beloved's hand.

"You will mean everything to me endlessly, Laurie... I strive to constantly turn your plans into reality..."

"Thank you, Bendie... I noticed the details on the wonderful bracelet reflect my hobbies, I really appreciate your observation and your care..."

"You know, my little mermaid, my key desire is to warm your soul, to evoke warm emotions in you; I intend to give you even more love, attention, affection, sensitivity; take everything I have, because I only want the best for you..."

"Believe me, my dear, you are enough for me... I think we have an amazingly spectacular future together..."

"You're completely right, my dearest, don't even doubt what has been said..."

"It turns out you are..."

"Yes, moonlight?... Please continue..."

"Will you ask me to marry you soon?..."

"Oh, sugar, of course, I plan to ask your hand in marriage, but not in the near future... I'll ask you the marvelous question earlier, if you wish... I think we both need to reflect a little on the proximity of the moment of our wedding..."

"I don't mind if we slightly postpone the date... I hope we understood each other correctly..."

"Definitely, honey, I'm not rushing you at all... No need to hurry - there is an eternity ahead of us... Are you ready for our miraculous journey, raspberry?..."

"Right, orange, let's go..."

"I'll certainly take a picture of you against the background of picturesque landscapes... I won't miss the chance to capture your brilliant beauty..."

The path turned out to be excellent: the devils saw a lot of fantastic plants, fabulous animals, magnificent birds, glorious rocks on their way; on the same day, the young man filled the album with new photos and, together with his beloved, examined the moments of the past day remained in numerous pictures.

"And here, behind you, multicoloured caihongs flew by, leaving a pinkish trail with a flap of their wings..." the demon pointed to the upper right corner. "Oh, a wide rainbow in the sky got into the frame, great..."

"We saw enchanting places..."

"They have become even more wondrous, because you were walking on them, sweetie... Your attraction spreads its rays to the nearest objects..."

"I love your compliments, my sugarpie..."

"I love you very much, vanilla..."

Bendy bent down and began to kiss Lara on the top of her head, on her temple, on her nose, on her closed eyes, on her cheeks, on her chin, on her lips. She smiled, and his face lit up with joy.

"I'd like you to put hickeys on my body again... And I'd do that on yours..."

"S-since you don't mind, dear, we'll repeat last night's activity... Love touching you with my lips, hugging you for a long time..."

The devils were kisding each other with their mouths slightly open, hotly, but carefully, trying to convey their affection, tenderness. The traces of love stained the bodies of sweethearts, their faces, even their tails with dark spots; the honey sensation grew on a grand scale, as if accelerating the hands on the clock...

Suddenly a phone call rang. Bendy, without stopping kissing Lara, extended his right hand and turned off the sound of the melody on his device.

"What if something important happened..." the girl suggested.

"Nothing can be more important than you and your desires, love..." the demon replied, again surrounding the girl's waist with both hands, twisting his arms around the body, legs of the imp in the form of a spiral in a magical way. The end of his tail was gently stroking her little tip, which was lying on the amethyst bed. "Let the world wait..."

The devils tuned in to continue the conceived ideas, but they were again prevented by the signal of Lara's mobile. The dark-haired lady picked up the phone and said, "Yes, Alice?... Is there any trouble in the studio by any chance?..."

"Oh, no, no, it's okay." the angel's voice rang out. "Boris and I are looking for boxes with decorative crafts, we assumed you took them last time..."

"Hmm, I don't remember their location..." the girl confessed.

"They are in the second small warehouse..." the young man said quietly, but audibly for the sorceress, continuing to touch with his lips and tongue the areas of the beloved's skin, uncovered by clothes.

"That's right, they're in the second small warehouse." Laura answered her interlocutor on the phone. "Good luck with your crafts."

"Thanks. Hey, aren't you busy right now?..."

"In general, we were going to devote the evening to a special kind of creativity..." the imp began, and the demon smiled when he heard her words.

"I wanted to take just a couple of minutes..." said the brunette with a halo over her head.

"I just have a few minutes... Bendy and I still have urgent business to attend to..." the edges of the girl's lips lifted higher after the end of the phrase ; a wide smile spread across the young man's face.

The demoness was talking with her friend about her future plans for adventures in fashion clothing boutiques, or rather, for the most part, she was listening to Alice's intentions to visit almost every fashion house in Verssia and Glabgon. The demon was kissing his beloved hotly, lovingly, sitting over her, bending his knees and tightly wrapping her in his caring embrace. He felt her pulse; his head was so close to her that when he listened, he noticed the steady beating of her heart; his horns were right next to her neck - he admired her calm and imperturbable voice; stroking her forearm with his palm, he stopped his fingers, and for a moment it seemed to him as if he felt the movement of ink through her veins, which he didn't even see with his eyes...

The demon watched the expression of the beloved's face and after ten minutes found out she clearly wanted to end the conversation, because the thought of kissing clearly possessed her. The young man approached the imp's face and whispered in her ear, "Tell her it's time for you to go, otherwise you won't have time to finish the things you started today, or you're going to carry out all the planned activities and arrange an evening of creativity, something like that..."

Lara smiled, covering the demon's lips with her finger. The devil kissed her phalanges, hand, palm, wrist, moving to other parts of her body, as the girl removed her hand, dropping it on a soft pillow, where she was met by a huge imp's hand, gently stroking the sorceress's palm, then firmly, lovingly tsking her hand.

"Okay, Alice, I have to go... Once when I'm back, we'll definitely visit all the planned places, agreed?..."

"Oh, of course, see you soon..."

"Bye, good luck to you..."

The demoness clicked the 'end of conversation' icon, intended to put the phone back in place, however, the young was faster, carefully took the device from her hands and returned it to the bedside table.

"Finally we are truly alone..." the demon said.

"I like to talk to Alice, but right now my thoughts aren't about shopping or new clothes at all..." Lara said.

"I don't understand why it was necessary to call to discuss the purchase of new outfits?... You would have come back, and you would have had a great live conversation..."

"Apparently, she wanted to share her ideas as soon as possible..."

"Now no one will distract us for sure..."

Closer to midnight, sweethearts managed to stop covering each other with kisses, they were sharing their feelings from the past evening. Bendy was hugging the girl tightly, she relaxed her hands into a lock, resting her head on the young man's chest.

Soon, when Lara looked at her hands, she saw a pretty detail on her palms.

"Judging by your smile, cupcake, you liked the traces of kisses in the form of hearts..."

"Even here you show creativity..."

"How else, Larry?... You're the very embodiment of art..."

"I understand, dear, you like to compliment me..."

"Your unsurpassed inner and outer attractiveness deserve reverent and constant attention, sapphire... You're the only beautiful creature for me..."

After a minute Bendy added, "Kissing you is always so astonishing in a good way, as if for the first time... Your hickeys really excite my mind, even right now..."

"I'd love to continue our kissing, but..."

"Are you tired and you want to sleep?... Then, of course, caramel, let's go to rest..."

Bendy fluffed up a pillow for his beloved and, covering her with a blanket, kissed her on the forehead.

"Sweet dreams to you, fruitcake..."

"Good night, marshmallow..."

"Tomorrow we'll definitely have unforgettable, breathtaking moments..."

[jasonblaze72]

Love Island Australia Season 4 Episode 9: Release Date, Preview & How To Watch

The Love Island Australia Season 4 Episode 9 release date has finally been revealed, and we are here to unpack everything followers of the show should learn before bingeing the new episode. Here is a quick rundown of The Love Island Australia's plot before we jump to the Love Island Australia Season 4 Episode 9 release date and The Love Island Australia Season 4 episode 9's streaming details. In this series, a class of individuals or competitors will be known as "islanders." Sophie Monk will make an appearance as a presenter this season. Stephen Mullan will narrate the program. The format of the series is extremely simple. They will live in an opulent villa close to Byron Bay, apart from everyone else. Their entire day is documented on film. These islanders must now meet the team's requirements. They can be in a relationship, pals, or rivals seeking to outdo one another financially. The winning Islander team will ultimately receive a $50,000 cash award. As they get to know each other during the first day of the competition, the Islanders are permitted to assemble a team with other contestants. https://youtu.be/XRJHkk8rYoc The Islanders may come together again over the episodes depending on the bond they may have developed throughout the series. The applicants will have the option of changing partners or even reconciling. Also read: Rookie: Feds Season 5 Episode 6: Release Date & How To Watch What Is Love Island Australia Season 4's Format? They are closed off from the outside world while they are playing. We see the islanders establish couples with one another inside the lavish villa as they look for love. Being a duo is what counts most on the show. The program also takes advantage of live voting methods. Any nation's citizen may vote here to keep the participants they like the most on the show. In addition, throughout the series, new island inhabitants only settle into the villa after the previous ones have been kicked out. On rare occasions, the extinct islanders can reappear as a wild card entry. Now, this recoupling guarantees that an elimination phase exists. During this pairing process, everyone who is mismatched is quickly eliminated. On the other side, islanders can also be disqualified through public voting. This public poll is made accessible by the Island series' official app, allowing spectators to select their preferred gamer rival. The Islanders, who just escaped with the votes, risk losing the match. The Islanders will vote for each other to be eliminated in several rounds. During the previous season, we watched the audience choose the couple they thought would win the series. The winning couple can now split the cash prize equally or take it altogether. Everything is determined by the packet they open. What Has Happened In The show So Far? Jessica had been dating Conor since the beginning, but when Tak and Callum, two new hotties, entered the villa, she completely changed her mind. Conor waves Jessica out on the veranda after she kisses Tak and decides she wants to talk to Callum outside on the terrace. "You act properly." I'll return right now." He says with seeming serenity, "You go get your bull—t talks off the road, then come back to me." Jess couldn't resist giving Callum a hot kiss while sitting on the patio. But secrets don't last long in the Love Island mansion. When Jessica gets to her feet, she notices that the window offers a clear view of the couple's shenanigans and the one person she didn't want to see them with. Yikes. I believe Conor witnessed our kiss because all I saw someone do was turn around and sit down. He was observing. "That is cooked," says Jess. I'm going to have problems. I can't do that! But now that he's decided to end his relationship with Layla, he wants Claudia to himself. It's not the kind of thing you would like to hear from the boy you like, but Austen sits down to give Layla the bad news. He continues, "I felt nothing, anyway." "The worst part is that I know I'm going to be seeing Claudia and Austen for a long time, which is disgusting," says a visibly upset Layla in the Beach Hut. "I abhor that." Later, Claudia deserts Jordan in the same way, which allows her and Austen—or, should we say, Claussen—to start their romantic relationship. At the episode's conclusion, we find out that Sophie Monk will return to the villa to remove the first islander. Knowing that anyone could be packing their bags causes panic among everyone. "A recoupling is imminent, and my condition is not stable." Jordan, who was hoping to get together with Claudia, says, "I'm up the creek, that's for sure." Holly tells Claudia, "We also don't understand what Layla is going to do." "We genuinely don't know," Love Island Australia Season 4 Episode 9 Release Date Love Island Australia Season 4 Episode 9 Release Date is Monday, November 14, 2022. Love Island Australia Season 4 Episode 9 will air on Nine at 2:00 am EST. International fans can stream Love Island Australia Season 4 Episode 9 at 6:00 pm AEDT, 7:00 am GMT, and 12:30 pm IST. Watch Love Island Australia Season 4 Episode 9 - Streaming Details Love Island Australia Season 4 Episode 9 will be available to stream on Hulu at the time mentioned above. Also read: Crime Beat Season 4 Episode 4: Release Date, Preview & Streaming Guide Read the full article

[razgriz2520]

Jessica Veranda / Ve - JKT48 Graduated Member (1st Gen)

[incorrect48quotes]

Beby to Kinal: You have to kiss the prettiest person in this group.

Kinal: Shania?

Shania, blushing: Yes?

Kinal: Move aside, I need to get to Ve.

[rgnaligm]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Jessica Veranda (@jcvrnd19)

Jessica Veranda for The Darkest Minds digital promotion.

[kickingitwithkirk]

A Lace Dress

Author: ​@kickingitwithkirk

Artist: ​@blindswandive

Pairing: Sam Winchester/Aoibheann Singer (OFC)

Rating: teen and up

Word Count: 5566

Summary: On the night of his 27 b-day and the expected announcement of his betrothal, Sam meets the woman who is his true Beta, only she cannot be his due to being branded an Omega for crimes her father, a former Pack Alpha, committed years ago. Her conviction is overturned but there are still persons creating obstacles during their courting and upcoming marriage when John Winchester finally realizes what’s happening and decides it’s time to put grievances to rest.

LINK TO FIC: AO3

LINK TO ART: LJ

*divider by @firefly-graphics

Sam stood just inside the open veranda doors, flannel-clad arms crossed, watching his family’s estate's expansive lawn transformed into an endless sea of white-clothed, elegantly set tables.

He’d have preferred going on that ghoul hunt with Caleb instead of being forced to participate in tonight’s festivities being held in his honor that he had zero interest in attending.

In his previous life, he would have celebrated his birthday with work colleagues from the firm that hired him after graduating from Stanford Law School, the one he was working hard at to make partner by this birthday.

But that life was no longer a possibility, his dreams of a normal life had evaporated the day his elder brother was expelled from their pack for falling for the wrong woman.

Upon his birth, Dean Winchester inherited the dual duties of training as a hunter and tutorials in becoming the next Pack Alpha of the Winchester clan. By the time he was twenty-six, Dean was one of the most proficient and feared hunters to have ever been produced by the Winchester bloodline. 

But he had another side, one he didn’t publicly show, possessing one of the most compassionate hearts and would do whatever it took to protect those he loved. He was also a charmer when it came to the pursuit of the fairer sex, although Sam always found his pickup lines cheesy as fuck. 

As was the custom in their pack, two days before his twenty-ninth birthday and arranged marriage to Beta Cassie Robinson, second eldest of the Morningstar Pack Alpha. Dean's packmates joined him on one last bachelor run and decided to stop at Harvell's Roadhouse which hunters from all packlands frequented.

Sam had been finishing up some last-minute things before heading home for the wedding when Caleb and Pastor Jim, his father’s second and pack's spiritual leader, appeared telling him what had occurred. Dean had returned home with Jo, a Beta he had mated and claimed, and all hell broke loose.

Sam lost his freedom that day and his parents were running his life. 

Again.

Happy Fucking Birthday to me.

~~~

Without a courteous knock, Sam’s door suddenly opens, and Mary Campbell-Winchester enters.

 “Samuel, you are the limit! You’ve been in here all day pouting like a teething pup. I know you’re still disappointed about giving up that job but really, it’s been almost three years.” Mary sighed, “I never understand why your father indulged your interests outside hunting. You’re a legacy, blessed by the goddess, inheriting her gifts of strength and intelligence from both sides of our bloodlines.” 

Mary looked over her ginormous offspring, frowning at his hunter garb, “it’s almost time for your guests to arrive.” 

“They’re your guests' mother,” Sam flatly said, knowing she would ignore him regardless watched her cross to his walk-in closet,  “I’m capable of dressing myself,” returns carrying a tuxedo suit tailored explicitly for the formal celebration.

“As for marrying that girl,” Mary continued, “did you honestly believe it would have lasted? Jessica is a human after all and incapable of properly satisfying you as Ruby can.” 

Sam shuttered at the mention of his expected-to-be betrothed name.

“Your father and I expect you to be downstairs, properly dressed, in forty minutes,” pausing to check her immaculate appearance in the wall mirror, “and do something with that overgrown mop you call hair,” once again chastising her youngest. “Honestly, you should try harder to emulate your father instead of going around resembling a Kitsune."                                                                                                                 

“Please tell me you’re fucking kidding Uncle Bobby!”

“Watch your language young lady.”

“I’m sorry Aunt Ellen but this..Alpha Winchester will take it as an insult to..”

“I’ve already talked to John and explained the situation, he understands our predicament and won’t take it that way, just present yourself at the end of the reception line and no one will notice.”

“Everyone will notice me sitting among the Packs tables and the gossip-mongering it’ll create! That our clan has fallen so far status since you took over and you have the gall..”

“I don’t give two shits, sorry Ellen, what others think about me but Jenny’s too sick to go.” Bobby sighed, “I know I’m asking a lot but there’s no one else of age who can take her place.”

“It’ll be fine sweetie,” Ellen said hugging Aoibheann, “but Aunt Ellen, I don’t have anything.”

“We’ll find you something and Jo can do your hair and makeup.”

“I’m not permitted to present myself above my status.”

“Hogs wallop,” Ellen said.                                                                                                                

Aoibheann knocked on the cottages front door clenching a garment bag and trying to not hyperventilate when Jo greeted her smile quickly vanished, “get in here before you pass out cause there’s no way in hell I can lift your tall ass off the ground.” 

She automatically complies with the order and followed Jo to the bath seating herself on the step stool that’s in the middle allowing Jo to more easily work around her noticing the variety of products and implants cluttering the counter.

“Do you use all that stuff?”

Jo laughs, “yep, what we women do to look good for our mates.”

“I didn’t mean to be so curious, it’s not like I’ll ever need them again.”

Jo placed her small hand on her stepcousin's shoulder, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Let me have the bag,” she took it and pulled out the dress hooking its hanger over the door pulled out the spaghetti strapped, chiffon A-line maxi dress took a moment to admire the soft white materials crocheted lace underneath the bust and overprint of pastel flowers with leaves in pinks, blues, grays, greens, and elegant herons in grey, black, and reds. 

Jo turns it noticing some of the side seams had been hastily altered to reduce the torso, “Aunt Ellen did that, it’s too big.”

“No one’s gonna notice. It’s a lovely dress but it’s you who’s gonna be beautiful.”                                                                                                               

Aoibheann hurried along the stone path with dress hem in one hand, grateful she didn’t need high heels with it, and a gift in the other stopped behind a hedge row of holly bushes just out sight watched as the trio of hosts greeted the last of the other Packs guests started to move but froze as a brief argument broke out when suddenly the largest Alpha was stomping by and abruptly stops an arm's length from the bush scenting the air starts looking around confused before shaken his head and changes directions disappearing around the manor house.

Unsure what to do, she peeked out and was spotted, “what are you doing lurking in those bushes? Come out immediately!” Following the command and keeping her head bowed Aoibheann approached the now angry duo.

 “Who are you?” The Alpha's deep voice demanded, “I..I was sent by the Singer Packs Alpha.”

“Oh, my goddess..John, she’s an Omega! What was Bobby thinking, sending one of them? This is an insult not only to our son but to our entire clan! I knew it’d be a mistake when the others supported elevating a Beta to Pack Alpha status..”

“That’s enough Mary! I told Bobby it was fine to send her,” Mary gasped at her mate, “it couldn’t be helped. I had already instructed the event planner to set her a place in the back.”

“Oh, I thought that was a mistake, so I had them remove it.” 

“You what?” John barked at his Beta, “when you said their only female Beta of age was ill, I assumed..”

“Begging you pardon Alpha,” Aoibheann respectfully said and John gave his permission for her to continue, “I know my being here is an insult to all the honorable Packs and I do not wish to be the cause of further discourse with your Beta,” she held out the elegantly wrapped gift, “Pack Alpha Singer requested I present the future Winchester Pack Alpha with this token of esteem, if you will kindly accept it in his stead, I will immediately leave.”

“I will gladly accept this offering from the Singer Pack on behalf of our future Pack Alpha.” John took the gift, “and allow me to apologize for the misunderstanding over your attendance. My Beta will see that oversight is corrected,” John pointedly said making Mary huff and marched off, her expensive heels clacking on the stone walkway.

John sighed, “don’t mind my Beta, she gets put out when things don’t go as she planned.” Reaching out John placed his index finger under her chin lifting the Omegas head.

 “I remember you,” her eyes flicked up in surprise, “whenever I’d visit with my boys, all you pups would tear around Bobby’s salvage yard.” John smiled sadly at the memories.

“Alpha Dean,” the Omega paused when John’s eyes briefly flashed at the name, “forgive me. I know he wishes it could’ve ended differently.”

John’s expression saddened, “I do too.”                                                                                                                         

Sam grunted as he wriggled his much broader than at eighteen shoulders through a narrow gap in the railing catches his foot and lost his left shoe. Hopping on the other he stretched a long arm back through the hole to retrieve it when it slipped hitting the ground with a wet squish. With an aggravated huff Sam pulled off his other shoe tucking both socks in it. 

Glancing up at the three-quarter full moon reminisces about the last time he’d been up here with Dean, splitting a bottle of their dad's best bourbon before Standford when the scent he’d caught earlier wafts on the gentle breeze again tickled at his memory but can’t put his finger of where he’d smelled it before.

They were his favorites of the autumnal season from childhood that to this day soothe his inner wolf took a deep breath; warm spices with a hint of caramelized apple felt an unpleasant, metallic aftertaste hit the back of his throat and made him gag.

Breathing shallowly, he trails it along the walkway behind Everblooming Arabian Jasmine Vines and comes upon the source.

A woman sitting on one of the shadowed stone benches is observing the soirée through a gap in the vines, so Sam slowly approached to not startle her. “Hello,” he softly says making her scramble off the bench caught a brief glimpse of terror-filled wide eyes before clasping her hands and bowing her head to him.

“Forgive me Alpha, I did not realize this was your domain.”

Sam’s brow furrowed confused at her strange remark, “this isn’t my domain. Please,” he gestured for her to retake her seat before sitting on the other end of, “I’m guessing you’re not much for big gatherings either?”

She didn’t answer so he dips his head to see her face, pleasant but plain features framed with thick, cinnamon-hued hair, her only feature that stood out signified she was of the Singer clan with eyes on the lighter side and a mouth a bit too wide.

If his inner wolf wasn’t doing somersaults, Sam would’ve easily passed her by.

”How’d you find your way up here?”

“A..friend told me.”

                                                                                                                         

It took a while for the conversation to start flowing with her shyness slowly falling away for her enchanting personality shone through was enough for him to know that Ruby nor any of the other Betas his parents had pushed at him were the ones meant to be his Pack Beta when the old churches clock bonged the hour.

“I..I have to leave,” she said getting up, “I’ve stayed longer than I was supposed to.”

“Surely you can stay a bit longer Aoibheann?” Sam asks and she shook her head. “I know this is presumptuous, but will you honor me by accompanying me during the Packs tri-annual run tomorrow night?”

 Aoibheann felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes focused on the jasmine blossoms over his shoulder.

“I..I’m sorry I won't be attending.”

“Why? You can’t disappear from me! I know you feel it too,” Sam reaches out grabbing her wrist making her flinch and curl in upon herself, “fuck, I’m sorry..I didn’t mean to..”

“I apologize for my unwarranted reaction Alpha; I was trained better.”

Sam frowned at her words not understanding what she meant decided to try again.

“Near Riverbend, there’s an ancient oak that crosses the river and about half a mile down the old path is a small clearing where the bluebells bloom. Meet me I will go to your Packs Alpha and do whatever he requires of me to secure you for my Beta but if you choose not to, I won’t ever bother you again.”

“I..I’ll consider your offer Alpha.”

                                                                                                                 

Sam paused at the ancient fallen oak, turning his head to check if he’d been followed and hearing nothing hopped up and padded silently across trotted down the path occasionally raising his muzzle to sniff the air, hoping against hope came upon the clearing and saw Aoibheann seated at the base of the largest oak.

He eagerly crossed the field and laid down by her legs, his big hazel eyes gazing adoringly up at her and she slowly reached out and began running her fingers through his thick, chestnut fur making him rumble in happiness.

“I can’t stay long but I had to see you,” Sam sat up at the desolate tone in her voice, “I wanted to thank you for offering to court me but I am unable to accept.”

In a blink, Sam shifted making Aoibheann blush at his nakedness, “please tell me why, I know you feel it too, what is standing in the way? I promised I’d do whatever your Alpha asks of me.” 

“I’m not permitted.”

“I don’t understand,” she hesitatingly asks in return, “you know about the Singer Packs last Alpha?” Sam nodded remembering.

It’d been all the gossip at his fourteenth birthday celebration. The Alpha embezzled from not only the pack but humans who’d been invested in the clan's business ventures then vanished before being brought to justice and was believed to have died.

“When it all came out his Beta couldn’t handle it let alone the thought of being demoted to Omega status,” her voice quieted, “she downed a lethal dose of a sleeping draught instead.”

Sam was well versed in human and Pack laws knew Omegas were once Alphas or Betas convicted of crimes committed by themselves or immediate family.

Those condemned to the status were sentenced to ten years of indentured servitude under the Pack Alpha of whose clan the crimes were committed, and silver beads were implanted in an ‘O’ symbol near the hip as punishment, signifying the individual's lowly status halted their ability to shift into wolf form also acted like chemical sterilization and left them sterile.

Aoibheann stood up and lifted her shirt's hem to reveal a raised, beaded circle just under the skin above her left hip bone. Sam reached out and lightly brushed his fingertips over the silver-tinted skin felt his fingertips burning and jerked back in shock.

“Afterwards, the Morningstar's Alpha was given custody of me.”  

“Wait a minute, why were you sent there when the crime was perpetrated within your clan?”

“The Morningstar's second eldest was his mistress and they’d planned it together. Can you imagine what’d happen if it was made public that the once future Beta of the Winchester clan had been involved?” Sam’s jaw dropped in realization.

The Pack council, including his father, chose to cover up Cassie Robinson's crimes by committing another.                                                                                                                            

Sam didn’t know how long he’d been pacing along the woodland edge trying to work up the courage to walk across the water-worn stones in the bubbling brook near the cottage heard a door open and a very pretty, diminutive blonde Beta stepped out placing hands on her hips and yelled across the expanse.

“You have some balls to show your face here after all these fucking years!”  

Sam was about to respond when he heard a distinctive tread and saw his brother appear from around the back wiping his grease-covered hands on a rag asked in a voice gravellier than the last time they spoke.

“Jo, who the hell are you yelling at?”

“Me.”

Dean’s chartreuse eyes widened in shock and Sam held his breath waiting to see how his brother, whom he hadn’t seen in four years, would react.

“Come up to the house,” was all he said turning towards the cottage.

~~~ The cottage was over a century old by its construction; the traditional thatched roof, gothic windows, and old hardwood flooring made it cozy and welcoming, nothing like Winchester Manor's vast halls and stone facade.

Sam glanced around again, unsure why his inner wolf kept expecting Aoibheann would appear.

“What’s with the look?”

Sam was startled out of his thoughts, “I was thinking how this place feels more like home than what we had growing up.”

“Hmm,” was all Dean said looking him over.

He’d seen pictures of Sam on the Pack's social media but was still having a hard time putting his once skinny as a green bean and bit to tall brother with the man sitting across from him, who now out massed their father.

Sam started squirming under his brother's scrutiny, feeling like that gawky kid again subconsciously stuck a finger in his mouth.

 “See you still bite your cuticles,” Dean admonished, tipping his longneck at his hand, “yeah, guess some things haven’t changed.”

“You know after I left all I had was Baby then it hit me I had no clue how I was gonna provide for Jo. She talked me into seeing Bobby that night and I forced myself to swallow my pride to ask him for help. And you know what he said?”

“Stop acting like a damned ‘idjit, family don’t end in blood.”

Sam jumped having not sensed the man who’d been a second father to them enter stood up suddenly hesitant, “don’t you start boy,” Bobby admonished wrapping him in a hug, “damn, it’s good to see you Sam!”

Bobby took the offered longneck from him and sat down, “don’t sell yourself short Dean, the Pack gave you the same leg up we all got but you’re the one who’s put in the work to prove your worth.” 

“Leg up?” Sam asked in his never-ending curious voice, “it’s an old tradition that everyone of age in this Pack provides a good or service for a newly mated couple. I offered Dean a job at my garage, Rufus procured some extra weapons for hunting, and so on.”

“I can’t take credit for this,” Dean waved his hand indicating the cottage, “it and the lands were gifted to us by your niece Bobby.”

“Whoa, that was a generous gift. What a minute, your niece..what was her name?”

Bobby shifted and glanced at Dean who rubbed the back of his neck.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Dean.”

“Better tell him,” Bobby said, “he’s not gonna give up until he knows everything.”

Dean got up walked over to a cabinet pulls out a bottle of bourbon and three glasses, “don’t know if you remember, you must've been six and dad was on a hunt, we spent the week with Bobby.”

Sam nodded, “I remember you always cheated playing hide and seek,” he huffed a laugh, “that’s how you did it, your wolf senses were presenting.”

“And how I knew when we left you were serious when you said one-day Aoibheann was gonna be your Beta.”

“You’re the one who told her about the balcony..how did you know I’d even go up there?”

“What don’t I know about you kid? Bobby wanted to be sure you still felt the same way as that six-year-old did before we gave her false hope.” He topped off his glass, “a while ago a crossroads demon named Crowley gave me the whereabouts of Aoibheann's father.”

‘Why would a demon do that?”

“Alpha Singer made a demon deal but when it came time to collect, he split, been living in a warded bunker that used to belong to some research organization called The Men of Letters. In exchange for us going in to get him, Crowley will let us bring him before the council. That’s where you come in, we need your knowledge of the law to properly present the evidence against Singer to get Aoibheann’s conviction overturned.”

“We know you’ve been hunting with Caleb,” Bobby added, “but this is gonna be a whole neither level. The man has had access to a respiratory of occult knowledge that’ll surpass anything we’ve known, figured you’d wanna join us on this hunt so you can finally claim your Beta.”

Dean slid the bottle towards him, “whatcha say little brother, ready to run with the big dogs?”

”Absofuckingloutly.”                                                                                                                            

One and half years later 

“The dress is lovely but there is still something not right.” Mary Winchester, tapping one impeccably manicured fingernail against her chin, says to the head couturier of the bridal salon as she walks around the podium Aoibheann standing upon in a Cinderella-style wedding dress.

She gazed into one of the strategically placed mirrors allowing her to see the entire dress from different angles without needing to turn admiring the beautiful gown but something she would never choose, absurdly heavy with its satin material, copious beading all over the form-fitting bodice, and countless tulle underskirts for volume. 

She had already found the dress, the one that would’ve perfectly fit her tall, slightly curvy frame and made her feel pretty and knew Sam would’ve loved its simple elegance.

Finally stopping Mary announces to everyone in earshot, “It won’t do, it is indecorous.”

Aoibheann knows it’s not the dress she’s referring to bit down on her tongue to stop the tears forming from the latest insult from her future mother-in-law.

“Oui, madam, I concur ‘es not aesthetically pleasing.” The couturier verbalizes what's been etched on Mary’s face since her youngest son, their clan's next Pack Alpha, announced he’d chosen to court the former Omega and on his last birthday, Sam formally asked Bobby, as Pack Alpha of the Singer clan, for his permission to take Aoibheann as his Beta and to publicly announce our betrothal.

Bobby had been shocked and deeply honored, normally the Alphas clan posted the bannes.

Seeing the look on Aoibheann face during what's supposed to be one of the happiest events of her engagement was the final straw for her adoptive aunt, Ellen Harvell-Singer.

“Are you insinuating that my niece is not good enough to be the Beta of Sam Fucking Winchester!”  Ellen yelled as she shot off the couch not caring who was listening caused Mary’s eyes widened in shock at the outburst, people in polite society simply did not act like this in public.

Aoibheann could see in the mirror's reflection several people turning to watch the proceedings with rapt interest. 

Great, she thought, more ammunition for them to gossip with, that's all I need right now.  

They knew the truth about what had occurred but had no problem coming up with things to gossipmonger about.

 “Aunt Ellen..”

“No! I’ve had enough of everyone thinking you're not good enough for this fucking clan!” 

 “No madam, I meant no disrespect!” The couturier turned crimson, scrambling to cover up her intentional insult before Ellen could say anymore. “I meant ‘es the dress color, ‘es too light for her skin tone, perhaps something in ivory or blush would suit better?” 

“Absolutely not, the dress must be white! It represents the purity and fertility of the next Pack Alphas chosen Beta.” Mary states as if it was a commandment.

If Mary only knew the night of the official betrothal dinner after everyone retired to the formal living room for coffee and bonne bouche, Sam had snuck her off to the formal library and upon his mother’s highly prized antique Georgian table had her for dessert. 

Aoibheann couldn’t suppress her grin at the memory.

“What are you grinning about, young lady?” Ellen snapped, turning her glare from the dressmaker.

“Nothing, it’s ironic that I have to wear white but I’m too white for white,” she looks over at Mary, “short of me dying my hair and getting a spray tan..”

The obscure suggestion brightens the Beta’s demeanor, “I know the perfect salon who can do it!”  Aoibheann held up her hand, “you know it wouldn’t please Sam nor would he ask me to change.”

Mary purses her lips in a tight line.

 “I am willing to wear white to uphold tradition, but it can’t be this,” gesturing at the gown, “and you have to bend a bit, it will have to be a more subtle shade.”

“Fine, but there cannot be any lace on the dress.” 

Looking back at the mirror, Aoibheann reminded herself at the end of all this she would be with Sam caught a glimpse of Ruby Morningstar smirking before leaning towards her cousin Amelia whispering.

 It's gonna be a long day.

                                                                                                             

Sipping on a glass of water and swallowing the migraine meds Aoibheann was relieved she had the foresight to book a private booth at Hanscum’s.

The constant headache she’d had since her betrothal was slightly more manageable with the restaurant's low lighting slumped down a bit to rest her head on the seat back shudders trying to block the memory of the dress selected.

It's so ostentatious, a haunt couture ball gown in, of course, an unflattering shade of white. Mary insisted with her extra height the dress will look stunning on the day. 

The dress will be stunning..the bride's another story.

Aoibheann's phone vibrated sees it was her cousin Jo tapping the FaceTime icon,” you look like death warmed over.” Jo states, “mom said it was a complete shit show, sorry I couldn't be there today.”

She snorted. “Wish I could’ve missed it too; thought for a minute I was gonna have to hogtie Aunt Ellen before she jumped Mary and that salon bitch.”

“What can I start you off with today, we have a nice pinot noir.” The waiter inquired.

“I’ll have double bourbon and hold the rocks.”

The waiter returns with her drink, and she throws it back ordering another to go with her nonexistent lunch when Jo makes a face, “you shouldn't be drinking with those meds let alone on an empty stomach,” she admonishes. “So, what’s the damage? Mom said the dress is unbelievable.”

“Hang on a sec,” she texts a photo taken of the dress after flat out refusing to be photographed in it at the salon.

“HolyFuckingShit!” Jo’s voice bellows from the speakers drawing the attention of a nearby table whose occupants started whispering amongst themselves, “it's gonna fucking swallow you!”

“I look completely ridiculous! It’s been ordered with the smallest cup size possible since I don't have a tenth of the cleavage needed and I’ll still have to wear chicken cutlets! You should have heard what Mary said when I showed her the one I wanted.”

Jo fumes, “first, that sanctimonious bitch has the audacity to choose the bridesmaids, the venue, the flowers, the dinner menu..” 

 “..and don’t forget the cake.” 

“You’d think she’d at least let you pick out your cake flavors!  Now she shuts you down picking out your dress. What’s next?” 

“Oh, that reminds me I forgot to tell you. Mary was ever so kind to inform us the other night she’s already booked where we’re going for our honeymoon.” Aoibheann dramatically sighs.

“It’s a beautiful, private tropical island in the Bahamas. Sam’s gonna love the snorkeling, sailing, hiking trails, and swimming in the hidden lagoons and I’ll be spending the day in our room, alone, with books for company since I’ll only be able to emerge at night considering how easy I burn.”

“Is the high and mighty Winchester Beta also planning on being in the room to instruct Sam on the proper way to knot you too?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her 'cause you know Mary is so keen on me, think how thrilled she’ll be if Sam can put pups in me.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry you're having to deal with all this. I know she’s doing it because Dean chose me.”

“Joanne Harvell-Singer Winchester don’t you dare blame yourself for any of this! It’s not your fault Dean’s father forced him to choose between being their Pack or his true mate!”

Aoibheann slammed back the rest of her drink, “fuck John Winchester and his fucking ultimatums. Dean loves you with every fiber of his being and never gonna regret his decision.”

She watches Jo tear up, running a hand over her swollen stomach, knowing she was thinking about how Dean gave up his entire life for her to be his Beta. 

“Agh, fucking hormones! See what you have to look forward to when Sam knocks you up.” 

Aoibheann smiles a bit sadly at her assumptions, thankful Jo missed her slip up, Sam and she chose not to tell anyone what the doctor found after her last check-up.

There’s still Adam to be the next Pack Alpha if I can’t give him any pups. 

Jo wipes her eyes and holds up her latest ultrasound photo beaming. “We’re having twin girls, and would you believe Mr. Plaid Flannel is already planning on a pink nursery? Pink!!” 

“Told you deep down he’s a Beta at heart.” Aoibheann teased knowing underneath that tough, cool exterior Dean Winchester had the biggest heart of any Alpha she’d ever met, including Sam.

“Shit!”

“What's wrong?” 

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise, running into you.” Ruby Morningstar says in that saccharine sweet voice of hers as she stops by the table with two cousins-by-marriage, Lisa and Amelia. 

A decade ago, Lisa had tried to snare Dean by claiming her son was a result of a sex-crazed weekend they had but Dean insisted it was impossible, swore he used protection.

There had been a scandal and tension between the clans until the paternity test he insisted on when Ben was born proved him right.

Amelia had been Sam’s fuck buddy for almost a year after breaking up with his human girlfriend Jessica, whom he’d planned on proposing to after he made partner.

Unbeknownst to both parties, John Winchester was seated in the booth behind them. 

He already heard some of the things being said about Aoibheann when his son began expressing concern about how the clans' members were talking.

But John had dismissed it, saying it was something all Pack leaders endured came to a head during one council session a member insinuated something unrepeatable Sam unintentionally shifted, his inner wolf vehemently determined to protect his future mate.

John publicly admonished his son, telling Sam he’d better learn to control himself since he chose a woman with a scandalous past to be his Beta.

He wasn’t surprised at the unimaginative taunts but then Lisa mentioned Mary’s name repeating the outright vitriol she had apparently been expressing not only at the bridal salon but to the clan in general.

This was a breach of etiquette, and he was going to put a stop to his Betas interference and maligning of the bride-to-be, the first step in honoring the agreement he’d made with his sons.

                                                                                                                     

                    

“Dean this is crazy, where the hell are you taking me?” 

Dean lifted on side of the noise canceling headphones and growled at his blindfolded brother, “will you stop asking me that, just put your Sasquatch hand back on my shoulder and keep following.”

Sam rumbled back but did as his brother asked walking behind him used his other senses to try and suss out where they were going. He could smell the river in the distance and the damp loam of the forest floor caught the subtle fragrance of flowers intermixing with the scent of warm spices with a hint of caramelized apple that always made his inner wolf rumble in contentment.

Dean abruptly stopped and gripped both his arms, maneuvering him to a specific spot removing the headphones and blindfold. Sam blinked a couple of times when his breath catches in his throat.

Standing in front of him amongst the bluebells was a radiant-looking Aoibheann, her thick tresses had flowers twined throughout, and was dressed in a fitted, off-white, lace dress with a sweetheart neckline and chapel train. 

“Now you know why I had you put on the monkey suit,” Dean snarked felt Jo smack the back of his head, “hey!”

“This was John’s idea,” Aoibheann tells Sam, “he came to me apologizing for his part in the cover-up and said something about making amends by honoring his part of the deal and ordered us to have the wedding of our choice.”

She wrinkled her nose, “unfortunately, we still have to attend the reception Mary’s planned.”

Sam smiled at how adorable she looked, “since dad also agreed to make Adam the next Pack Alpha, I’ll be heading a nonpartisan group that will oversee the council rulings, so they won’t be able to railroad anyone ever again.”

“Take a look in your bouquet,” Dean says, and they find a key hidden amongst the flowers.

“Dad also arranged for you to have your place, it’s a cabin not far from here and the lands abutting the Singer packlands not far from us.”

Sam placed his arms around her, “Aoibheann Singer, are you ready to be my heart, my mate, my Beta, for the rest of our lives..even if it entails having to put up with my brother?”

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @b3autyfuldisast3r @lassie-bird @nancymcl @spnbaby-67 @leigh70

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2 @akshi8278 @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl @siospins2

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS Fic: “Believing Impossible Things”  {Part One}

Whew! I’m here (sorry for pushing this so close to the wire on my posting date!) Anyway, this is Part One of an intended three part fic, my entry for this year’s @cssns event. I apologize if there are any typos or other such errors as I was working on this right up to the last minute.  I also have to thank my lovely artist @o-wild-west-wind for the gorgeous fic cover art she has created for this piece. It’s so lovely, but in an effort not to give too much away, we’re just posting a teaser section of the art with this first chapter, and the full work with Part Two soon.

 My beta @romanceapologist was kind enough to give me early feedback, which I very much appreciated, and @zaharadessert and my friend Jessica (who isn’t on Tumblr, but is a lovely sounding board for me as a writer all the same) helped me come up with a title.  I also have to thank @pirate-owl for the prompt and picset she created some years ago now, which first sparked the idea for this story. She gave me her generous blessing to go ahead and try to make it my own and write a full story for it, and I’m truly grateful.

Summary: Miss Emma Nolan needed the governess job badly enough to ignore the gossip about the old mansion and the chilly reception she got about the lady of the manor. And when she met young Alice Jones, she knew she had made the right choice. But some rumors are rumors for a reason, and maybe the little girl who drew her there isn’t the only person on the estate in need...

“Believing Impossible Things”

by: @snowbellewells 

part one ~ the house at the top of the hill

Even as she reached the crest of the gentle rise she had been climbing, the petite blonde nearing the old rambling mansion in the early morning light was scanning from the tall spires and gables of the imposing gray house before her at the top of the hill.  More than a bit awestruck as her eyes trailed down to the solid front door and gingerbread railing of the wraparound porch, she was both intimidated and impressed. Smoothing her skirts and tugging down the sleeves of her slightly too-small and a season out of fashion dress and jacket, also the best and most professional-looking she owned, the young woman blew out a breath, vowing once more to make a calm, competent impression. She might be more than desperate for a job, she reminded herself, but she could not let her need and fear show through.

Miss Emma Nolan squared her deceptively slight shoulders, gathering reserves of inner strength which most would not recognize upon first glance, and then stepped onto the wide, stately veranda of the rambling home where she was set to interview for the position of governess. Granted, she probably shouldn’t have told the assistant manager at her previous place of employ to ‘sod off’ before assuring this worked out, but she wasn’t making nearly enough to deal with a frightfully overbearing manager attempting to put his fingers on her whenever others weren’t looking. If he had a bit of a sore jaw to remind him to pay a little more respect to his next underling, Emma couldn’t say she was sorry.

Those who didn’t know her - and they would be many; she had grown up an orphan, was guarded and largely kept to herself in early-learned self-sufficience - would see a slim, neat but modestly dressed young woman, quite attractive with blonde hair and sparkling green eyes in a fetchingly lovely face. In short, she might not appear formidable, until one learned she was tougher than her appearance would suggest. She was slow to trust until another person proved worthy, but those few who genuinely knew her could understand the stubborn determination in her small frame, the spine of steel which held Ms. Emma Nolan upright against the cold, cruel would and the bravery that bolstered her soul. And those people knew not to underestimate her.

Yet, determined or not, she would need a bit of luck and a fair chance on her side to come out of this situation as she needed. What she had reluctantly come to accept was that she was a single young woman, basically alone in the world when it came to supporting herself and making her way. She needed another job, one she could count on to be reliable and stable - and she needed it soon. This monstrosity of a house might look daunting, and she had heard all the local whispers of gossip which were more daunting still, but she set her jaw, tilted her chin up and reminded herself it must be this one. She might not need much for herself alone, but she did have to eat.

Nearing the heavy front door, Emma hopefully admired the lovely scrolling accents to the beams and railings, painted a clean, bright white against the duller gray of the outer walls. Forcing herself to move slowly and with a calm she didn’t feel, Emma raised a mostly steady hand to knock upon the heavy front door.

She was startled however, into jerking her hand back quickly to clasp before her when the door abruptly opened without warning. Making her rather more uneasy still, it at first seemed to Emma that no one stood on the other side, as if the sturdy portal had opened of its own independent power, or by some supernatural magic. Yet, given a few more moments, a light, airy giggle sounded, causing Emma to look down and see a head of riotously curling light nutmeg-brown hair belonging to a little girl, peering up at her curiously, a perusing look to her tilted head and squinting eyes, and mischievous grin curling her rosebud mouth. “Hullo there,” she chirped. “Who are you?”

Almost without thought, Emma found her own head tilting in intrigued study as well, mirroring the playful sprite still gazing at her from the doorway, childishly chubby hand still clutching the elegant doorknob, with fingertips that appeared slightly sticky with lingering jam or marmalade. This must be her potential charge - and the very first one upon whom she ought to make a good impression.

“Hello indeed,” Emma greeted, offering a hand to shake cautiously. “My name is Emma Nolan. And you are?”

Twinkling wide eyes crinkled with guileless welcome as the little girl’s grin broadened to beam at her fully. “I’m Alice Lianna Jones, Miss Emma. How lovely to meet you! Though it is rather curious… I didn’t know anyone was coming to see us today.”

Stunned by her well-spoken forthrightness, Emma was speechless for a moment. Though this was almost certainly the child she was interviewing to govern, she hesitated to say so and speak out of turn, not wanting to ruin her chances before she had even begun. The world was still running (though not as well as Emma privately figured it might) on the idea that women were better served to speak as little as possible and at least appear to think or see even less - traits that she found particularly chafing more often than she’d like to admit. Despite those concerns, the little girl staring up at her intently as though trying to decipher her motives from the features of her face, seemed so jovial and friendly, Emma hardly wanted to upset or distance her. Perhaps she did not yet know she was gaining a governess? Or that the one she might already have was being replaced?

Shaking away the scattered thoughts ricocheting within her, Emma hoped that her smile appeared unconcerned as she offered her hand for the bright-eyed child to shake just as she would have if the girl were mistress of the house. “In that case, I must apologize for my unannounced arrival,” she offered politely, her green gaze returning the mischievous twinkle of the youngster’s own mirth, “though I am most pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Alice giggled in delight, her cornflower blue eyes crinkling up at the corners and the sweet sound warming Emma’s heart in a sort of instant camaraderie that she had found all too rarely in her life thus far. Her left hand still gripping the doorknob for balance, the child dipped into an only slightly off-kilter curtsy, her merriment still obvious as she shook Emma’s hand in return. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Milady,” she returned in what Emma assumed she found an approximate imitation of a stuffy upper class woman greeting visitors to her home. Feeling utterly charmed, Emma merely nodded in response and concentrated on pressing her lips together tightly so as not to laugh at the rather incongruous effect.

Mere moments later, the lighthearted mood was shattered abruptly by the strident shout of Alice’s name from inside the huge house, followed by the quick clip of high heeled shoes on marble growing louder as they drew ever closer. Alice’s little hand jerked out of Emma’s grip and the curly head dipped to stare at her shoes as she withdrew slightly before the unseen speaker scolded. “What do you think you are doing, answering the door to a stranger?”

Emma’s startled and more than a bit concerned gaze shifted hurriedly from the child she had been pleasantly engaged in talking with to see that a tall, stone faced woman had now appeared at the young girl’s side, seeming to fill the whole of the doorway with an unsettling presence that could not be ignored. She had not missed the way Alice had immediately withdrawn; seeming to shrink in on herself protectively, that sparkle which had shown from her cherubic face instantaneously dimmed. Given the opportunity, she would want to get to the bottom of that; she felt a deep concern for Alice already, regardless of having known her for only moments. There was enough in her own past to turn Emma’s stomach at the possibilities for why such a vivacious child would recoil so suddenly from one meant to be a caretaker, none of them pleasant to dwell on. That also served to galvanize her resolve in the face of the nerves she had been battling. Not only did she fervently need this job; it would seem this child needed her here as well.

Holding her tongue - just barely - the strong-willed side of Emma’s nature inwardly cheered to see that though her new little friend had gone wary and still, she hadn’t fled and was still watching hopefully from behind the door. Realizing that now was the moment to employ every scrap of the poise and charm she often struggled to muster, knowing too much hard reality and harsh fact to trifle with fancy sensibilities, Emma redirected her attention to the ramrod straight and unsmiling matron before her, frighteningly pale with wildly storming eyes burning from her wan face and hair vividly, shockingly, red in contrast to the rest of her.

Ignoring her disconcertion, Emma held out her hand, feigning polite obliviousness in what she hoped seemed proper respect and propriety. “Pardon me, Ma’am. It would seem to me that you are the person I had hoped to see. I’ve come in response to your advertisement.” Again she hesitated to be specific in front of young Alice, not sure what she knew, but with every tense minute that passed, she wanted to reach out to the children more and more. Any sane, average person might have decided this was highly tense and uncomfortable silence was not to be borne and turned to flee, but Emma’s innate stubbornness rooted her to the spot in waiting. The immediate warmth and affinity she’d felt for young Alice Jones becoming a sixth sense which allowed her no other recourse.

Just when it seemed she might not get any further than the front stoop, nor any answer at all, the other woman did look down her nose at Emma for another moment before clearing her throat, flicking her wrist impatiently as if to gesture her forward, then stepping back just barely to allow emma passage. “Very well. Come in we shall get down to business.”

Emma’s brows rose in startled surprise, not expecting the abrupt change in bearing from the stern scrutiny which had preceded it. Deciding not to question the development that suited her or hesitate before the winds changed, Emma nodded smartly and slipped into the stately home before the door was slammed in her face. The fact that a shiver ran down her spine as she stood in the hall, awaiting further direction, was something she forced her mind to chalk up to a perverse flight of fancy. Nevermind too that the high-ceilinged space seemed more dark and shadowed than one would normally expect on a bright, clear morning, or that the temperature seemed too cool and chill for the temperate balminess she had just experienced outdoors. Such nonsense was surely her own nerves spinning out of control.

The woman who was no doubt Mistress of the house closed the door behind them, the sound of the latch locking back into place making Emma’s heart lurch in her chest in a way she couldn’t well explain. “This way, if you please,” the formidable matron intoned coolly. She stood what seemed easily half a head taller than Emma, and her voice was short, sharp, and not to be argued with. “I have been conducting interviews in the study.”

Emma surreptitiously attempted to gather her skirts slightly as she moved to follow in the dim and unfamiliar space. The last thing she needed was to trip on her own hemline and go sprawling to the floor, disgracing herself and showing just how far she was from being trained to carry herself around fancy ballrooms and stately mansions. Though governesses themselves were of course employees like maids or cooks, they were part of rearing and training proper young men and women in the ways of society they would someday navigate. They should therefore carry themselves with the decorum they would be expected to convey to their charges. Emma had grown up much to rough and tumble for such frivolities, gathering most of what she knew of manners and bearing from her friends who worked in fine homes and had tried to help her prepare as best she could between jobs on the assembly lines and in the linen works. Though this odd prospective employer had allowed her entrance, Emma got the distinct impression she was seeking out a flaw to send her packing once more.

She offered a sidelong wink and smile to Alice who still followed them closely, like a silent shadow. Upon reaching a room wherein Emma could see a crackling fireplace, largely mahogany desk with two handsomely appointed chairs before it, her hostess turned abruptly to calmly order, “Alice, go to your room, please. Our business does not concern you at present, and no one likes a little snoop who lingers in doorways.”

An argument rose up Emma’s throat, wanting to scold the woman for being so cold and dismissive. If nothing else, she wished she could at least caught the little girl’s hand as she darted quickly from the room, the hurt devastatingly clear on her elfin face as she vanished without a word. Fighting her natural instincts, Emma did neither, knowing that if she wished a chance to truly help the girl, to console her for more than just a moment, she had to be hired by this imperious woman. There was no doubt now she was seeing herself and her own past pain played out in the youngster now; it was no longer simply about needing employment. But Alice was not the one doing the hiring, so Emma wordlessly dug her fingernails into her palms to remain silent and bided her time.

“Right. Now then,” the flame-haired lady of the house spoke crisply as she snapped the door closed, assuring they would remain alone and uninterrupted, and turned to search Emma’s expression. “You’ve come to apply as governess, have you? And what makes you think you should be considered?”

There was a smug, doubting look on her interviewer’s face that made Emma’s blood boil. Already well on her way to disliking the woman for her hurtful treatment of the child in her care, Emma was further incensed by the same snobbish, condescending attitude she encountered from so many in polite society whenever she sought more fulfilling employment. As if finer clothes and more cultured speech determined either the work ethic or character of a person. If anything, people like the haughty ghoul before her only made emma more certain that breeding and money often made people worse rather than better.

“That is correct, Ms. - ah - Mrs. Jones?” she tried, realizing as she floundered briefly that the other woman had not actually introduced herself or provided her preferred title. As Emma paused, swallowing and trying to still her rising temper, the lighted lamps and candles in the room flickered fitfully, as if some unseen butler tried to extinguish them all at once. Pressing on, Emma tried to ignore the oddity, and added, “I have quite a bit of experience looking after children of various ages, as well as affidavits of my characters from others who know me well.”

Emma handed her recommendations across the desk to the woman, even as she sniffed and snatched at them as if she barely wanted to touch or look at the offending items. “Very well, let’s check them over, shall we?” she snipped. 

Not know quite how she had gotten herself into the other woman’s bade grace so quickly, Emma held herself in check rather remarkably she thought, under the circumstances. At this point, it was only the memory of those sweet, hopeful little eyes looking up at her in greeting that kept her from taking her leave.

“And it isn’t Mrs. Jones, either,” the frosty voice corrected with a level of disgust that suggested Emma had called her some unforgivable epithet. “Alice is a Jones, yes, but though I have found myself guardian to the little waif, I am not her mother.”

“Oh,” Emma tried, very little else seeming possible to say, and her mind wanting to shout that she should be lucky enough to have a lovely child like that to call her own. “I didn't realize,” she finally settled on.

“Clearly,” the other sniffed again, chin held high. “My name is Eloise Gardiner. My family were some of the founders of this community; this home part of our legacy for generations. When the child’s shiftless father deserted her on my doorstep and disappeared, well I couldn’t very well leave her on the street, could I?”

Polite veneer completely forgotten, Emma’s mouth fairly hung open at the baldly hurtful way this Ms. Gardiner explained coming to have Alice in her home. Though Emma did not remember a storm or even strong wind outside the manor before she had entered, at Eloise’s harsh words, a howl of wind whipped up outside, rattling the window panes as if in response to the callous statements the woman made. Even without the unsettling sound effects, something rang false in the explanation, at least to Emma’s ears, and she had always trusted herself as a rather astute judge of such things - her life and livelihood often depended upon it. 

“Why would her father leave her here?” Emma finally asked, knowing it might not be proper, but at last unable to help herself. Ms. Gardiner seemed far from a maternal or loving choice the girl’s parent had been seeking a fitting guardian. “Did you know him?”

Eloise Gardiner leaned forward with a knowing smirk, conveying the sort of acquaintance it had been with an arched brow and curl of the lip that no true demure lady of class would suggest. “In a way I did, at one time,” she answered vaguely. “He was a handsome devil, charming too, but it had been some time since I’d seen him, when I gained Alice as my ward.” A stack of books which had been sitting on a shelf nearby suddenly toppled and crashed to the floor violently, though no one had moved to jostle them. One, inexplicably, went sailing through the air, nearly hitting the mansion’s proprietress squarely.

Emma flinched backward as the tome flew past, but Eloise barely blinked, catching the volume in a firm grip and giving Emma a stiff grimace of a smile. “He never was one who could be held down. Apparently even his own child did not prove to be enough to do so.”

Heart burning in her chest, Emma felt the line within her statement even more strongly than before, but she couldn’t be sure what part or how much of the story was untrue. What she did know was that she wanted to be Alice Jones’ governess more than ever.

Dropping the offending book to the floor at her feet, Eloise Gardiner made a show of glancing at Emma’s experience and references with little interest before seemingly making up her mind in an abrupt, unconcerned sort of way. “I suppose you’ll do,” she stated, standing quickly and handing the papers back to Emma impatiently. “You do at least have some prior knowledge and some sense, unlike the last couple of applicants I’ve seen. I have important matters to attend and cannot be doing with Alice underfoot any longer. You’ll start tomorrow if you accept. Room and board is included. You stay in the tower room, the attic really, but it’s furnished and private.”

Shocked by how quickly the mater seemed to have been decided, and feeling she really had no choice but to accept - for a variety of reasons - Emma agreed to the terms almost numbly, not ready to celebrate yet that she had food and a roof over her head secured once more. Suddenly, she was almost as troubled as she was relieved, and she could not shake the sensation, even as they shook hands, signed a contract for the first six months, and Ms. Gardiner showed her back to the door with a directive to return at eight the next morning. Back out on the cobbled walk, Emma turned to look back up at the structure where she would soon be living and working, biting her lower lip and wondering if she had done the right thing.

Then, from an upstairs window, she saw Alice Jones appear, waving at her briefly with a wide smile before flitting from view once more. Holding that image in mind, Emma Nolan comforted herself that she had made the best choice after all, and left resolved to wait and see what the morrow might bring.

~~~*~~~

That evening found Emma seated in a cramped but warm and welcoming corner of the kitchen in the home of the fine family where her friend Ashleigh Hermann had just been promoted to head cook. Hoping not to add any extra bother or difficulty to Ash’s workload, Emma had pulled a tall stool into the corner by the hearth and was keeping her hands busy breaking beans that would be prepared as a side dish for the evening meal her friend was preparing. Emma was glad to help in return for a couple of the cinnamon buns Ashleigh made from scratch, and to have a little company as she mulled over the strange interview she’d had that day and sought a spot of her friend’s advice on how she should proceed when reporting for her first day of work in the morning.

Ashleigh and Emma had met in school years ago, both often arriving in patched or threadbare clothing and dealing with being shunned by the more outgoing and well-to-do students. They had bonded early and the friendship had lasted well into their young adulthood, even now that Ashleigh was married to a handsome young lamplighter named Sean and first time mother to an adorable babe named Alexandra.

Though not a true orphan as Emma was, Ash’s family had treated her as more servant than cherished offspring, and so she had grown up self-sufficient and knowledgeable in all manner of work. Since she toiled more than hard enough to support herself by the time she was a teen, Ashleigh had struck out on her own early, and had been able to advise Emma in various types of employment from her own experience as soon as Emma followed her into the work force a few years later. 

Unlike Ashleigh’s selfish relations, Granny, the doting elderly woman who had been a friend and mentor of Emma’s deceased parents and taken her in to raise as her own, had been doting and attentive, giving Emma all the attention she could spare while working hard to run a quaint country inn. Granny had not possessed much in the way of money and material objects, nor had she much spare time to dally and relax but she had provided the best she could for the lonely child left in her charge and loved her like family. Emma adored Granny for it, but though she still functioned quite well, she was getting up in years, and Emma hated to see her still working so hard to support them both. It hadn’t been long after she was of age that she had set out for the city on her own, hoping to even send something back occasionally to help Granny and maybe allow the woman to finally slow down and have a moment’s rest.

Setting down the cocoa Ashleigh had offered with a knowing smile the moment she’d claimed a seat upon arrival, Emma watched her friend bustling around the kitchen, and finally sighed, coming out with the question still troubling her mind. “So, do you think I’m crazy for taking this on? I can’t imagine that woman will be at all pleasant to work for, and you know as well as I do the stories about that old mansion, but… if you could have seen this little girl… She is so bright, so curious and sweet. She must be stifling, locked in there all alone. I couldn’t turn my back on her…” She trailed off, her teeth digging into her lower lip anxiously as she awaited her oldest friend’s trusted opinion. The large bowl of beans were finished, and she rose to dump the vegetables from the container in her lap into the rapidly boiling pot on the stove, needing to move to calm her impatient nerves.

Despite the numerous other chores she had on her hands, Ashleigh came to stand at Emma’s side, offering her a wooden ladle to stir with, but also pausing her constant motion to wrap an arm around Emma’s shoulders and peer into her face. “Of course you couldn’t,” she acknowledged softly, her eyes full of gentle understanding. “With the way you grew up, without your parents, really pretty lost until I adopted you,” here she winked playfully to let Emma know she was teasing. “You saw a bit of yourself in her, which is completely understandable. You needed a job, the old crone will likely be away or otherwise occupied most of the time, and I think you and little Alice will be good for each other.”

“You really think so?” Emma debated, returning her eyes to the rolling surface of the water before her. She wasn’t even half the cook her friend was, and she hardly wanted to ruin one of the side dishes for the dinner. Still, despite her reluctance to let too much relief creep in, it did her heart good to know her friend felt just as she had about the situation. “That was my conclusion as well, but I feared I might be too close to see it clearly.”

Shaking her blonde head and nearly undoing the kerchief she held it back with for kitchen work, Ashleigh chuckled, “Would I lie to you, Emma?” Bustling off again to take the fresh baked buns from the large oven as gracefully as if it were a dance around her working quarters, she added, “And if you’re worrying about al the gossip and old wives’ tales about the place, I’m sure that’s all they are. I’ve never known you to let rumors and nonsense stop you before.”

Emma agreed aloud, but continued to leave unspoken the strange drop in temperature, the howling wind on a calm day, and the books flying as if cast through the air by an unseen, malevolent hand. Not as frightening as the lady of the house herself, but unsettling to be sure. Still, Emma did not like to be thought of as easily daunted, and when it came down to it, she would return regardless; that innocent child deserved someone who cared for her, and Emma had already become attached, whether she fully understood it or not.

She lingered a bit longer, helping Ashleigh see to the rest of the meal preparation and then catching up on her friend’s life as they cleaned up afterwards. When Ashleigh left for the evening to return to her little family, and Emma back to her boardinghouse room for one last night, she felt much more certain of her course. Maybe odd things did happen on an estate that old, and having now met Ms. Eloise Gardiner, Emma would concede she might indeed be a witch, though doubtfully the kind local legend suggested. The sillier flights of fancy she had heard over the years - that the ghosts of ancient sailors roamed the halls seeking revenge, or that once one entered the place they became trapped and couldn’t leave - were the work of overzealous imaginations and bored people starved for excitement, nothing more.

~~~*~~~

The next morning dawned pleasantly warm and bright with sunlight as Emma made her way to the estate at the top of the hill once more, reporting for her first day as Alice Jones’ governess. If she were completely honest, Emma was hardly looking forward to a second conversation with the lady of the house, but she had steeled herself as best she could, and she was able to overlook that in her anxiousness to see and talk once more to the little sprite who had charmed her from the moment she’d opened the door and looked up into Emma’s face with such trusting openness. Her focus was on making young Alice’s life better, on seeing that the child had someone on whom she could depend. Anything else was secondary, and she intended to keep that focus in mind, whatever other obstacles or distractions might present themselves.

Clutched in her hand, she carried a valise packed with her meager clothes and other belongings, and in the crook of her other arms her heavy winter coat which would not fit in the case and a snow white knitted baby blanket which she could never leave behind wherever she traveled. It was the one family heirloom she possessed. It had been made for her and given to her parents by Granny herself before Emma was even born, her named stitched in purple at the edge by the capable older woman. Emma was far from sentimental; her no-nonsense practical upbringing cementing that tendency well. She didn’t hand onto trinkets or collect many things. She had the bare minimum of a wardrobe and shoes necessary and a few pictures and pieces of jewelry, but she traveled light, and so she pressed the blanket, the one exception, to her side all the more tightly as she again reached the solid front door of the mansion where she would live and work.

Pressing her lips together tightly, Emma once more steadied herself, intending to appear capable and prepared for anything, then knocked on the sturdy portal. She waited only moments before hearing quickly, lightly scuffling footsteps within, and her heart leapt in happy relief, hoping it was Alice and not Eloise Gardiner, even as she didn’t wish for the child to be scolded again on her behalf.

The door swung open widely to reveal the youngster beaming at her brightly in greeting. “Miss Emma, you’re really here!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together with delight and giving a little hop right where she stood in the grand entryway. “I’ve been ever so anxious for you to arrive!”

Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Emma felt a smile of her own spreading across her face in response to Alice’s greeting. Considering that she was no longer a stranger and arriving for the job she had been hired to perform, Emma stepped forward into the house gladly and chuckled indulgently when Alice took her hand and excitedly pulled her further into the ornate, high-ceilinged hall. Their voices and footsteps echoed massively in the large, open space, but though still dimly lit and overly ostentatious, her surroundings seemed much less oppressive and foreboding than they had during her interview the day before.

All the same, before letting her guard down, Emma couldn’t help glancing about cautiously to make certain Ms. Gardiner was not lurking anywhere, watching unobserved for her to make some sort of disastrous slip that would see her thrown back out of the place on her ear. Seeing no one else anywhere nearby, Emma released a breath and let her shoulders ease slightly, not sure where her employer was, but at least reasonably assured the woman was not about to leap from some hidden corner and fire her on the spot. 

Cleverly seeming to read her new caretaker’s thoughts, Alice tugged gently on Emma’s hand, regaining her attention and giggling at her wariness. “You don’t have to worry,” she broke into Emma’s thoughts with her sweetly endearing young voice. “If you’re wondering about Ms. Eloise, she isn’t her right now. She left again early this morning.”

Emma’s brow furrowed in confusion. “She did?” she queried, puzzled. “Without making sure I’d arrived or giving any final instructions? Wouldn’t it have been better to wait and be certain you weren’t left alone?”

Alice tilted her head to study Emma for a moment, looking as though she were giving serious adult consideration to Emma’s questions, even if they weren’t truly directed at her or even more than musing out loud. Finally, she straightened again and wrapped Emma’s hand in both her smaller ones before clutching them to her chest. “You really did come here for me, didn’t you?” she seemed to reflect, sounding awed at the realization. “I could sense it, you know,” the girl continued, holding Emma’s gaze with her own wide eyes brimming with emotion. “That you were sincere, I mean. That you cared. I wanted so much to believe it, but I’ve been wrong before.”

Her confession felt troublingly cryptic to Emma, who was still trying to digest Alice’s words, even while being grateful the child could read her genuine hope to be friends, to help, to make her life better and keep her safe. Still… “Wait, what did you mean by that, Alice?” she pressed. “Of course I’m here for you. I mean, I need a job naturally - one has to work in order to get by - but I agreed to be your governess because I care about you. Shouldn’t that be the case?”

Alice nodded sagely at Emma’s words, those large, guileless eyes in her pale, innocent face wiser than they out to have had to be. “You’re right, Miss Emma. Naturally that would be the best way of it, but you would be shocked at how many people come here for the money alone, or hoping to gain Ms. Eloise’s favor and her standing and power to help themselves. Or even just to see if the place is haunted or cursed by a witch the rumors claim.”

As she was speaking, Alice had turned to move further into the house, pulling Emma along behind her through a gloomy formal parlor, an empty sitting room, and to what would likely classify as a sunroom squeezed in along the back wall near a flight of stairs up to the second floor. Emma followed numbly, realizing that Alice Jones was no fool, nor was she as blissfully childishly ignorant of what went on around her as Emma would have hoped. Clearly love - as all children deserved - had been all too rare in her life, just as it had been in Emma’s.

“I’m sorry that has been the case in the past,” Emma managed shakily, placing steadying hands on Alice’s shoulders as she turned to look up into Emma’s face after stopping once more. Finally they had found a space in the ancient structure where light could get through, and it came streaming through the bank of windows, illuminating Alice’s pixie features and highlighting her hair in a way that resembled a bright halo resting atop her head. “You didn’t deserve to be overlooked in such a way… and that won’t be the case this time. I can promise you that much.”

Once again, Emma had the brief impression that Alice was weighing the words she had spoken, gauging them for truth. It might not strike her so clearly if it weren’t something she also did, but nonetheless, she understood the need behind it, and forced herself to be still and submit to the inquisitive scrutiny. As quickly as the moment had begun, it ended, and Alice lunged forward, wrapping her think arms around Emma’s waist in a tight hug. “Then you’re just the one I’ve been praying for,” she exhaled in breathless exclamation against the material of Emma’s dress, holding tight for some minutes before letting go and stepping back, friendly exuberance lighting her eyes again, despite the glassy appearance of tears that hadn’t actually fallen. “Would you like to see your room?” Alice asked, passing the more fervent swell of emotion that had overtaken her and obviously now attempting to be a proper young hostess. “I can show it to you and help you put away your things.”

“That sounds perfect,” Emma replied with a matching grin.

Alice whirled quickly, now assured in her purpose and cheerfully urging her governess to follow her as she slipped from the room and back toward the stairs. Her tread was light on each as she tripped along merrily, prattling on about the tower, her own room, her favorite toys and games - anything her young mind seemed to think her newfound friend should know. 

When they reached the second floor landing, Alice looked back over her shoulder at Emma coming up behind her, an impish expression on her face and an eyebrow cocked up on her forehead playfully at the slightly more labored sound of Emma’s breathing after the steep climb with baggage in hand. “Alright there, Miss Emma?” she questioned solicitously, but with a teasing smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards.

Narrowing her eyes in false sternness at the jibing, Emma nodded and let the girl  know that she would manage, while admitting to herself that so many stairs might take some getting used to. “My room is just there,” Alice pointed to her left toward a room with the door opened just enough to show walls painted a light robin’s egg blue in contrast to the dark colors which seemed to dominate the rest of the house, and the velvety ear of a stuffed white rabbit hanging off the side of a canopy bed. “And Ms. Gardiner’s room is that way,” she gestured to the other end of the hall. “But don’t ever go in there. It’s off limits,” she advised solemnly with the voice of one who had been informed of the information in no uncertain terms. She wrinkled her nose in the next instant, her irrepressible nature taking over once again. “Not that you would wish to bother her moldy old room anyway.”

By this time, Emma had caught her breath and did laugh at the girl’s affronted expression. “Right you are,” she agreed with a wink, then a reassurance that she understood the warning, “but duly noted all the same.”

The winding steps up to the tower were much narrower as they ascended, not leading to an entire third floor this time, but a single room in what must be one of the gables Emma remembered seeing from the outside. Alice pushed the door open at the top with the air of a ringmaster unveiling the final act of his circus, turning eager eyes to see what her governess will make of her new lodgings. “Here it is,” she crowed, “the tower!”

Brushing an escaped tendril of hair back behind her ear, Emma gratefully dropped her valise to the floor and tossed her coat and blanket onto the worn quilt covering the bed just off to her right. The room is sparse: bed, dresser, closet, mirror, but thankfully clean and more than sufficient for her needs. There have been many times she has been in danger of having to do with much less. Moving over to the window in the wall facing the door, Emma looked out briefly, seeing the lawn running back down the hill alongside the path she had trod when she arrived that morning, thinking how lovely and peaceful the grounds truly were, despite the heavy chill that had seemed to surround them only yesterday.

Perhaps it was only the sullen mistress and not the old place itself at all?

“What do you think?” Alice’s voice piped up, sounding a bit more hesitant, perhaps even nervous as she awaited the verdict. “It isn’t fancy, but the tower has always seemed interesting to me. Up here, tucked away all by itself and quiet. I’ve always figured its hiding its own mysteries.”

She was rambling a bit, though it endeared her to Emma all the more as she turned back into the room and made her way back to the bed where Alice had plopped down and took a seat beside her. The poor thing seemed almost anxious that Emma might dislike her accomodations and leave. Reaching out to take the child’s hand and press it reassuringly in her own, Emma marveled again at the bits of her own psyche that she saw surfacing time and again in this sweet girl trusted to her care. Peering into Alice’s face, she whispered with conspiratorial warmth, “It doesn seem to have a story, doesn’t it?”

~~~*~~~

That night, long after Alice had been tucked into bed and Emma had retired to her own room, she ran her mind back over the day fondly. She and Alice had toured the rest of the house, made a brunch of toast, marmalade and tea, and then explored the wonderfully overgrown backyard, where Alice had shown her the climbing tree in which she sometimes to naps in the wide branches in the afternoon sun and the long untended garden where she often caught glimpses of a stray cat and her young, and even once a fox. Alice’s curious, intelligent mind shone through as she continued to share all the things she had studied and discovered ont he property while left largely to her own devices. It seemed almost miraculous that she was neither bitter nor spoiled, but pleasant and kind, eager to her treasures, as she called the simple things she had gathered in her solitude.

Vowing the the precocious young woman would no longer have to spend her days alone - not ever again if she could help it - Emma had found herself physically tired from the day’s activity, but her mind not yet ready for sleep. Noticing a slight draft in the room, Emma picked her blanket up from where she had tossed it on the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders as most would a dressing gown. Moving toward an alcove in the back corner of the room, she discovered where the cool air was streaming in; it seemed that where the two walls met was not quite snug, and as she pressed and prodded searchingly, she discovered that there was actually a hidden door in the wall that she hadn’t seen. She wondered that Alice had never done so either, and bit back a smile at how thrilled Alice would be when shown it tomorrow.

It was a bit stuck, no doubt from neglect, but putting her shoulder to the task, Emma finally forced open the wooden panel to discover that it led out onto a high widow’s walk overlooking the back of the property. Her sense of adventure momentarily overriding her good sense, Emma stepped out onto the narrow walkway into the night air, exhilaration flooding her veins. The breeze was stronger so high up, above the trees even in her secret perch, and Emma’s hair, loose and flowing for the night, whipped around her face wildly. 

There was railing along the structure clearly meant as a handhold for anyone venturing out to use it as a vantage point, but it wasn’t tall - not even waist high - and she made a mental note to be careful not to get to close to the edge, and to warn Alice of it too, if she even decided it wise to show the child at all. She was just debating the wisdom of such action along with her responsibility to keep Alice safe, when the strident wind seemed to take on renewed vigor; almost a life of its own. The shingles of the roof at her back rattled as if about to be pulled free and the door out to the walk knocked against the side of the tower.  Unnerved by the almost sentient reaction of its force, Emma got the distinct impression it was somehow upset with her.

An impossibly strong gust snatched suddenly at the blanket draped loosely over her shoulders, nearly ripping it away from her and carried it off. Without thinking, Emma dove forward to keep hold of the blanket, her one tie to the parents she had never gotten to know and couldn’t even remember, and lost her footing. She slammed into the guard rail rather than slipping over the edge, but it caught at mid thigh not the waist, and she nearly toppled over it headfirst. 

A strong grip caught her around the waist and yanked her back from a fall that would have surely been the end of her. For a moment Emma was frozen, stunned, her blanket clutched to her chest as her startled lungs struggled to breath again after the shock. It took a few minutes for her to regain her senses and realize that she hadn’t averted disaster on her own; someone had caught her.

Turning slowly, she came face to face with a man equally wide-eyed and panting, looking just as surprised to see her standing there as she was to see him. He was a half a head taller than her, his eyes a wild, stormy blue like the sea and his disheveled dark hair fluttering across his forehead in the breeze still sweeping around them. His shirt was scandalously half-buttoned down his heaving chest under an expensive and old-fashioned looking waistcoat, allowing think dark hair to tantalizingly show in a way Emma had never seen on the high collared and cravat wearing gentleman of her previous acquaintance. 

Before she could force any words out however, his voice, shaking with some intense burst of feeling broke out in clear agitation. “What were you thinking, Lass? Are you mad? You nearly threw yourself over the edge for a mass of thread and ribbon!”

Spluttering indignantly, Emma wanted to set him straight and defend herself, but she was still too overcome by the fright she’d weathered and the sudden precious of an overwhelming intense and masculine stranger pressed quite close to her in such a small space. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly without her forcing out any sort of explanation. 

As he raised his hand to brusquely shove a thick forelock of hair out of his eyes, Emma gaped even more at the sight. Where his left hand would have been, the man who had just pulled her from the ledge instead had a hook in its place. She blinked mutely, even trying to rub her eyes as if the fog would lift and what she saw would turn sensible once again. Instead, it only led her to realize that something about the man’s form was not fully solid; she could still see the door back into her room, the shingles on the roof, and the stars above through him. It shouldn’t be possible. It wasn’t possible…

Reaching out a tentative finger, she intended to just barely touch her rescuer, to prove to her own eyes that she must be mistaken, but instead she gasped as her hand passed right through him to the wall beyond. Her gaze snapped back up to meet his; deep, fathomless pools lined strikingly with dark kohl but someone just as fearful in that moment as she knew hers must be. 

“Bloody hell,” he swore, looking almost pained, “will I never learn?” And then, before Emma could stop him, he vanished from sight.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @stahlop @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @winterbaby89 @thejollyroger-writer @wefoundloveunderthelight @xsajx @cosette141 @apiratewhopines @the-darkdragonfly @darkcolinodonorgasm @justanother-unluckysoul @drowned-dreamer @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda​ @scientificapricot​ 

[dogcircle-scans]

Natsume Yuujinchou: “Cookies to the Forest’s Entrance” Summary (Chapter 105)

Our cuties are back with more adventures!

I was trying to get this out within a week of the chapter’s release, but life happened so it took a while. ;w; Anyways, this is our first chapter after the 4 month hiatus! Perhaps to serve as a breather after the super intense Homura arc, we have a relatively short chapter (only 24 pages compared to the usual 30-40 pages) about Natsume, Tanuma and Nyanko-sensei stumbling into an old house in the middle of the forest. In some ways, this chapter felt more like a special chapter rather than a main one (don’t expect any plot or character development for this one, especially not information on the grandpa), but surprisingly, it also helps wrap up some stuff in the Homura arc (firstly, DID NYANKO GET HIS COOKIES, secondly, our poor cinnamon roll pure boi needs a hug ;w;). It still gives me the usual NatsuYuu feels, so no complaints from me! Also (I’m sorry for plugging), but if you enjoy what we do, and don’t mind giving a couple of dollars,

please buy me a coffee or two. At the moment I’m using my Kofi funds to buy raws of the manga for our scan uses, but after losing my Tumblr account, I haven’t had any new donations, so my tank is running empty (especially after buying the raws for Volume 25). ;w; If you have some spare cash and would like to help support our scan work, please help donate. You have my eternal gratitude. TwT As always, special thanks to Jessica for proofreading this for me on a Sunday!

- Niji

Chapter 105: “Cookies to the Forest’s Entrance”

While walking home from school, Tanuma accidentally steps onto a cookie, hearing it crack under his foot. He spots another cookie in the distance, and begins finding more and more of them the further he looks.

Tanuma: (It leads into the forest.) // This is just like Hansel and Gretel. / I wonder who dropped these…

Tanuma: ! // Natsume? Natsume: Huh… // Tanuma!? / Why are you in a place like this? Tanuma: You too, Natsume, what are you doing here…

Tanuma asks if Natsume might have been the one to drop the cookies, but it turns out Natsume didn’t notice the cookies at all. After recognising the cookies, he runs off, following its trail. Tanuma runs after him as well. At the end of the trail, they find a little house.

Natsume: Ah. // In a place like this… / Is it a vacant house? Tanuma: Hey, Natsume… / Do you know what these cookies are? / You looked like you were looking for something.

Natsume: …It’s nothing big. / I guess you can say I was just curious… Tanuma: Curious? Natsume: ——These cookies are…

Natsume recounts what happened shortly after he and Nyanko-sensei returned from Homura. Touko and Shigeru were extremely glad that he was able to find Nyanko-sensei, and gave Nyanko-sensei the cookies that they had kept aside for him (if you remember at the start of the arc, Nyanko-sensei wanted some pretty cookies but ran off before Natsume went to buy them). Nyanko-sensei was super happy about them too. However, when Natsume returned home from school that day, Nyanko-sensei was nowhere to be found in his room. Thinking that Nyanko-sensei might have ran off to play as usual, and that he might be going beyond Yatsuhara…

Natsume: I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I figured it would be interesting to try following Sensei at least once… Tanuma: … I see… Natsume: ...Don’t laugh. Tanuma: Haha, I’m sorry. / So, at the end of these cookies will be…

Yes, it is Nyanko-sensei.

Natsume: Found him! Tanuma: Fufu. / There’s a hole in his bag. / So that’s how the cookies fell out.

Tanuma: *sigh…* ……Natsume? Natsume: ——As I thought, I’m still a little worried about Sensei. Tanuma: Ah… / That’s right, at the White Mist Pottery* Village, he caught the eye of a strange Collector……

[*I’m gonna translate “Hakka Pottery” to “White Mist Pottery”, since I can pretty much confirm that ‘Hakka’ is not a family name lol. So, for localization sake, I am translating the whole term.]

Natsume: …There was someone who reassured me, saying, “I’ll take care of this incident, so you don’t have to worry.” // He isn’t someone who would say things without thinking, so I did think that things would be alright now. / But when I didn’t see Sensei around like this, I can’t help but feel anxious. // ...But I’m glad.

Natsume looks around.

Natsume: I guess he found this vacant house and has been idling around in it. / …Seriously, he even brought his favourite sake and sake bottle with him. Tanuma: Wow… // It doesn’t look like anyone is here, and it’s quite wide. Rather than a residence, this is more like… an arbor?

Tanuma: It’s old, / but it’s pretty. // It’s perfect as a hideaway / or as a secret base.

Natsume: A secret base… / Then we’ve done something bad, haven’t we? Since Sensei has been secretly having fun here… Nyanko: *open!* Hm hm. / Natsume and… the Tanuma brat. Natsume: Ah! Nyanko-sensei! // I’m sor- Nyanko: You came here with perfect timing. Help me out. Natsume: Huh!?

Nyanko-sensei explains that he discovered this place while chasing butterflies during his patrol. He figured that it would be the perfect place for him to take his afternoon naps, and was just in the midst of checking it out. The only issue is that the place is rather dusty, and Nyanko-sensei doesn’t have the spare time to clean the place up as he likes.

Nyanko: I’ve brought some dust cloths with me. / Just wet them in the river over there. Natsume: What— Nyanko: If we don’t at least clean this veranda, you two won’t be able to idle around either, right?

And just like that, the boys got to work.

Natsume: Geez~~~ *wipe wipe wipe wipe* // This house may be vacant, but it might have an owner, so don’t just do whatever you like, Sensei. Nyanko: Come on! / Put your backs into your wiping! Boys: Phew~~ // We’re finally doneee—

Completely exhausted, they plopped down onto the veranda, and had their rest. And as they closed their eyes—

Natsume: (What is this?) / (There’s some sort of sweet fragrance coming from somewhere.) // (Is it Sensei’s cookies?) / (No…) // (Maybe it’s flowers.) / (——It’s very) // (kind and sweet——)

Soon enough, Natsume notices that evening has already arrived, so they prepare to leave.

Nyanko: By the way, how did you two learn of this place? Natsume: How? Because your cookies had fallen out, Sensei. Nyanko: WHAT!? // *stunned* There’s a huge hole… Natsume: Shall we pick them up on our way home, Sensei?

Nyanko: …… / No, just leave them as they are. // We still have lots of maintenance to do. / Tomorrow, you two will follow this trail back to my afternoon napping spot. We will gather there.

[Did Nyanko just… sacrifice his cookies!? Omg!]

Natsume: “Maintenance”……? Tanuma: Haha, I’m sure birds would have eaten them by tomorrow, Sensei.

The following day, the two boys find the trail of cookies and arrive at the empty house.

Natsume: We’re here. Nyanko: You two are so slow! / You’re gonna be devoting yourselves to the maintenance of my drinking party spot! Natsume: Wasn’t this your afternoon napping spot? Tanuma: ——Huh? Natsume. / There’s something on the pillar there…

Indeed, on the pillar was a hand-written note, saying,

“Thank you for wiping the place. Please enjoy yourselves here.”

Natsume: Uwah! / It’s probably from the owner. (S- So embarrassing…) Tanuma: I wonder if it’s okay to just take advantage of their offer like that. / Even though we entered as we liked… Nyanko: Stop complaining! Today, we are wiping the sliding doors! / I want the moonlight and the evening sun to shine on it beautifully.

Natsume: …As an apology for Sensei coming in as he liked, we should at least clean the frame of the sliding doors. Tanume: Let’s do that. Natsume: You help too, Sensei. Nyanko: Hmph. / Just this should be enough, right?

Or so they thought.

Nyanko: *rip…*

Stunned by the tear, the two boys inspect the damage. Natsume asks if it can be fixed, and Tanuma figures that, if they bring some sliding door paper and glue tomorrow, it should do the trick. Natsume returns to the note on the pillar, and quickly jots down an apology.

“Sorry, we tore the sliding door. We will fix it tomorrow.”

Back at home, Natsume asks Shigeru for some sliding door paper.

Shigeru: ...Hm? Sliding door? Natsume: Yes… // Can I have enough for one grid? / We were staying at a place and we kind of… tore it. Shigeru: Oh. / Were you at the Tanuma’s? Natsume: Ah, no. Shigeru: It’s okay to be mischievous, but you have to keep it in moderation.

Shigeru: If it’s at home, you can break as many as you like, // but always make sure to apologize, alright, Takashi? Natsume: …… Yes.

[Shigeru is such a good papa ;w;]

As Natsume leaves the next day, Touko stops him, handing him some strawberries.

Touko: Here, give them these strawberries as an apology. // *rustle!* Do your best! Natsume: ——… // Thank you so much. Nyanko: Oh~~~ These strawberries look tasty~~~ Natsume: They are not for you, Sensei.

[And now we have our sweet mama TwT]

They continue to follow the trail of cookies (how have they not been eaten by animals yet??), during which Natsume asks if the owner might be there. Nyanko-sensei promptly answers that he doesn’t need to care so much about an uninhabited empty house.

Natsume: Don’t you start, Sensei. Tanuma: Oi, Natsume—

The three of them head to the house, and find that a new note has been attached to the pillar.

“Thank you for cleaning the sliding doors. I have a request. Could you help me plant these seeds in the garden?”

Natsume: Huh? // By ‘seeds’, do they mean this? // …They don’t sound angry. Tanuma: You fix the sliding door, Natsume. / I’ll clear the weeds over there and plant this. Natsume: Thank you, Tanuma.

Natsume: …… // (The owner of this house sure is strange…) // (Rather, it feels like…) // Hey… Nyanko-sensei…

Nyanko: HEY! / ENOUGH OF THAT! HURRY UP AND BRING OUT THE PAPER! // Let’s paste it down right away. It’s time to repair my afternoon napping spot! Natsume: ——… Yeah. // You’re right.

The three of them set down to work, and finally finished everything. Once again, exhausted, they plop onto the veranda and napped.

Natsume: (Nevertheless…) // (This is such a comfortable place——)

In his dreams, Natsume hears a man speak, and the thoughts of someone else…

Man: “——Hey there. Sorry to keep you waiting.” ??: ——It’s alright. // Always, / forever, // I will be here, waiting for you.

Natsume wakes up.

Note: As an apology, we have left some strawberries here. Tanuma: It’s quite a mysterious arbor. // It’s like we are exchanging letters with the house owner. Natsume: That’s true. Tanuma: ——Hey, Natsume. Natsume: Hm?

Tanuma: ...Nah. / See you tomorrow. Natsume: Yeah. // See you tomorrow.

And that night, Natsume had a dream.

Natsume: (There was a gentle-looking man sitting alone on top of the veranda.) / (And around him, perhaps it was the flowering season… There were so many colors as though it was overflowing with it.) Man: Ah, my beloved arbor. // I can only visit you once every year. / I can’t even maintain or take care of you. Please forgive this useless owner of yours. // This year, I’ve been busy with my family business as well. / The days where I come here provide emotional support, so I always look forward to it. // Ah, / the view here is so beautiful. // I built this here hoping that someday, / I could bring my wife, my children, and my family here to view this scenery. // But after so long, it has always just been me.

Man: I’m sorry. Even though I built you, // I’m always here alone. // I’m sorry I couldn’t make it lively. // ——Someday, // should // guests arrive here——

Natsume wakes up. The following day, he meets up with Tanuma again, and they follow the trail of cookies into the forest. Natsume wonders about all the strange things involving this situation, about the forest that was so close to his house and yet he doesn’t know much about it, about these cookies that still look great even after so long, and about the mysterious owner who never shows his face. And when they arrive at the arbor—

Flowers had bloomed across the garden.

Tanuma: What!? / Flowers!? // …This can’t all be / the seeds I planted yesterday…? // Just how did… Natsume: ——I’m guessing // this arbor made all of them bloom.

Tanuma: Huh… SFX: *rustle*

The one who wrote notes to thank them for cleaning the floor and the sliding doors might have been the arbor itself. With its memories of bygone days, it’s always been here inside the forest, waiting.

Natsume: You finally have guests coming here. / But I’m sorry that it was us.

This was such an old, old little arbor, and it felt as though it was mustering the last of its power to show them this scenery.

Nyanko: Ooh, there are strawberry flowers here too. Natsume: Tanuma. / Why don’t we take a seat at the veranda and look at this scenery for a bit? Tanuma: Huh? Natsume: Somehow, / I feel like we won’t be able to come here again tomorrow.

Tanuma: ———……… // I see——… Natsume: (——I wonder if there are buildings that can become ayakashi too.)

That was the mysterious arbor that Nyanko-sensei found. It was only a short while, but it was where two people, one beast, and another certain someone, had spent their time together. As they take a seat on the veranda, Natsume recalls the words that the owner had said in his dream.

Man: ——Someday, // should guests arrive here…

Man: Make sure to welcome them with lots of flowers, alright?

It was a beautiful and lovely, secret arbor.

“Cookies to the Forest’s Entrance” END

[booksandstarwars]

My Brother Guesses HP Characters pt. 2 -side character edition

[once again, we are not trying to make fun of the characters of actors, this was just a game for fun]

Buddy okay, okay

Felicia PFF-

Hank Cedric has been wronged-

Jessica if she wasn’t French, then yea

Wait... I thought you already showed me Dudley? I know for a fact that this is Dudley, so who was that? [That was Nevile, dear brother] Yeah this is definitely 

Dudley 

James NO this is not James- RIP

Sarah sure, i guess?

 Luke ah yes. the young Dark Lord, Luke

Amber  makes sense with the hair color?

Daffodil wrong flower, bud

Veranda  CAN YOU IMAGINE A LADY NAMED VERANDA SAYING THE LINE IN THE OOTP [itty bitty babyyy. Pottah.] ??? AHH IM SCREAMING

Henry sure, but Remus makes more sense considering he’s a werewolf

[weirdesplinder]

Libri vintage che spopolavano negli anni 70' e 80'

Continua le mia esplorazione nelle librerie di mia cugina, che, causa trasloco, deve svuotare casa e vende alcuni libri della sua vasta collezione. Oggi vi illustro le mie ultime scoperte sulla letteratura che andava di moda negli anni 70′ e 80′.

Iniziamo con dei ROMANZI OTTOCENTESCHI di autori francesi che probabilmente mia cugina scoprì o dovette scoprire sui banchi di scuola.

Titolo: Graziella

Autore:  Alphonse de Lamartine, famoso poeta, scrittore e politico francese nato alla fine del 1700.  

Trama: Il giovane scrittore francese Alphonse de Lamartine durante un viaggio in Italia, resta colpito dalle belle terre del golfo di Napoli ed, in particolare, dell'isola di Procida. Alphonse ne ammira la particolarità, la semplicità della sua gente e s'innamora di una giovane fanciulla dagli occhi neri e dalle lunghe trecce: Graziella. Graziella, figlia di pescatori procidani, corrisponde quel tenero amore che ben presto viene interrotto dalla partenza di immprovvisa di lui per la Francia. Alphonse lascia la sua amata Graziella con una promessa:sarebbe ritornato presto da lei. Alphonse non mantiene la promessa e Graziella, nella vana attesa, si ammala. Prima di morire, la giovane spedisce ad Alfonso una lettera contenente una treccia dei suoi capelli. Alphonse conserverà per tutta la vita quella lettera, quella treccia insieme col ricordo di quell'amore che non riuscirà più a trovare in nessun'altra donna.

Da questo romanzo nel 1961 in Italia fu tratto uno sceneggiato televisivo dallo stesso titolo, con protagionista il celebre e amatissimo attore Corrado Pani. Non ho trovato un video di questo sceneggiato, ma su internet è disponibile l’audio delle 4 puntate, sul sito raiteche.

Link: http://www.teche.rai.it/1953/10/graziella-i-puntata/

Tirolo: Selvaggia

Autore:  Raoul de Navery, nome di penna di   Eugénie-Caroline Saffray, scrittrice francese molto famosa e amata che dal 1860 in poi creò molti romanzi che combinavano un’eccellente scrittura, ad un gusto romantico avventuroso in grado di catturare il lettore. I suoi romanzi riflettono la morale borghese ottocentesca e hanno al centro della trama l’importanza della fede nella vita dei personaggi.

Trama: La parte più pittoresca dell'Isola del  Rey era occupata da una vasta dimora a un solo piano, ornata da fiori  rampicanti lungo una veranda e circondata da una folta siepe viva di  cactus.Legni costosi, mobilie rare, stuoie finissime, tutte le ricchezze  che possono accumularsi in una signoria di proprietari vicini ai paesi  dell'oro, sui quali avevano dominato i Pancasi, si adunavano in copia  nella casa del conte Umberto de Flessigny. Accanto alle curiosità  archeologiche, si trovavano i saggi di un'arte perduta, della quale i  padroni del Perù adornavano quei celebri giardini d'oro, dove ogni  pianta, ogni fiore di metallo rappresentavano le forme ricopiate dalla  natura per mano di valenti artefici. Si parlava su tutta la costiera  di quella dimora come di una meraviglia, e non v'era capitano di nave  straniera che facesse scalo all'Isola del Rey, che non volesse chiedere  al gentiluomo milionario il permesso di visitare le rarità accumulate  nella sua dimora; permesso che sempre veniva concesso con amorevole  cortesia. Quando poi il capitano della nave era francese, i coniugi  de Flessigny non mancavano mai di offrirgli una ospitalità principesca." 

Proseguiamo con i ROMANZI ANNI 70′- 80′ che invece andavano di moda tra i giovani e non solo, sbancavano anche ai botteghini dei cinema o spopolavano in tv

Titolo: Menzogne (Secrets)

Autore: Danielle Steele

Trama:  Sofisticato e avvincente, con una schiera di personaggi indimenticabili,  questo romanzo esplora l'effervescente mondo della televisione,  scoprendo i drammi, le invidie e le passioni nascoste dietro la  realizzazione di una serie tv di vasto seguito intitolata ‘Manhattan’. Lo show rappresenta  per ogni persona che vi lavora un'occasione irripetibile per giungere  finalmente al successo e alla fama, ma il prezzo di tutto ciò è una  fitta rete di menzogne con le quali ciascuno cerca di celare un  inconfessabile e lacerante segreto...

Da questo libro è stato tratto un film del 1992 intitolato appunto Secrets (titolo originale del romanzo), e credo che tale film sia andato in onda col titolo Il segreto anche in Italia in tv  sempre negli anni 90′, ma non ho trovato un video della versione italiana solo di quella americana (se trovate la versione italiana fatemelo sapere).

Link:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qaBfmF9_rE4

Titolo: Love story

Autore: Erich Segal

Trama:  Lui è Oliver Barrett IV e  lei Jenny Cavilleri. Lui è ricco, lei povera. Lui fa sport, lei suona  il pianoforte. Discutono, litigano... e s'innamorano follemente.  Decidono di sposarsi e di andare a vivere insieme senza contare  sull'aiuto di nessuno. Cavarsela da soli è dura, ma loro sono pieni di  entusiasmo e hanno tanti progetti per il futuro. Finché si rendono conto  di non avere molto più tempo davanti... Un bestseller internazionale  che ha commosso milioni di lettori, il romanzo che meglio di ogni altro  ha raccontato com'è l'amore a vent'anni, con parole che vanno dritte al  cuore e ancora oggi hanno la freschezza e la forza dei sentimenti veri,  quelli che non muoiono mai.

Chi non conosce o non ha mai visto il film tratto da questo bestseller? Credo nessuno. Un film e un libro che hanno fatto storia e commosso milioni di persone.

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GkRdOmhiws0

Titolo: Another love. Storia di Oliver (Oliver’s story)

Autore: Erich Segal

Trama:  Seguito del libro Love Story. Si dice che nella vita  di ognuno ci sia un unico grande amore. Per Oliver Barrett, quell'amore  si chiamava Jennifer. Il tempo trascorso insieme è stato troppo breve,  prima che il destino gliela portasse via, ma così intenso e speciale da  valere una vita intera. Oliver ha poco più di vent'anni, tutti gli  dicono che deve andare avanti e ricominciare a vivere, ma lui è convinto  che non sia possibile, che non sia giusto. Non gli importa di uscire,  vedere gli amici o fare nuove conoscenze. Il suo rifugio sono il lavoro e  la corsa, per immergersi a capofitto nel presente e attutire l'eco del  passato. Fino a quando incontra una ragazza così affascinante e  misteriosa da attirarlo fuori da quel vortice di buio in cui è piombato.  Con lei sembra rinascere qualcosa che sembrava essersi incrinato per  sempre. E il futuro assume contorni inattesi. Perché solo l'amore può  guarire le ferite di un cuore spezzato.

Anche dal seguito di Love story fu tratto un film con protagonista lo stesso attore del primo film giustamente, ma non ebbe purtroppo lo stesso successo.

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_2PNOH_j6A

TItolo: Un uomo, una donna, un bambino

Autore: Erich Segal

Trama:  La migliore amica di Bob Bekwith è Sheila,sua moglie: per quattordici  anni hanno vissuto e affrontato tutto insieme, in costante adorazione  l'uno dell'altro. Completano le loro vite le figlie, Paula e Jessica.  L'anno accademico è appena finito e Bob ha presenziato all'ultima  riunione della facoltà e Cape Cod li attende per una lunga estate. Ma  una telefonata basta a sconvolgere la loro esistenza. Quando  Jean-Claude, un bambino di dieci anni, arriva per passare le vacanze con  loro, ecco che Bob e Sheila, infelici e travagliati, vivono ormai come  entità separate le loro rispettive tragedie. Persino Paula e Jessica,  felici di quel nuovo compagno di giochi non riescono a sfuggire del  tutto dalla bufera. Tutti fanno del loro meglio affinché la pace  domestica venga ristabilita. Ma solo una persona può far si che il  miracolo si compia.

Anche da questo libro di Segal fu tratto un film piuttosto famoso con Martin Sheen, che arrivò anche in Italia.

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRTXuKzkQ7A

Un amore senza fine

Autore: Scott Spencer

Trama: La quindicenne Jade e il diciassettenne David si conoscono e si  innamorano. Il loro amore però è ostacolato dalle rispettive famiglie,  soprattutto dal padre di lei, che allontana David per permettere alla  figlia di terminare gli studi con tranquillità. Ma la grande passione di  David lo porta a dar fuoco alla casa della sua amata, reato per il  quale viene condannato a cinque anni in manicomio. Uscito dopo soli due  anni per buona condotta, parte per New York  alla ricerca di Jade, andando contro le disposizioni di legge che lo  costringono a non lasciare la città. Una volta in città viene  riconosciuto da Hugh, il padre di Jade, che nell'inseguirlo perde la  vita in un incidente. Ma quando i due amanti si rincontrano e il loro  amore riaffiora, a ostacolarli, stavolta, sono i fratelli di lei, che  accusano il ragazzo della morte del padre. David finisce in carcere e a  Jade non resta che aspettare il suo amore senza fine.      

Da questo libro bestseller sono stati tratti   diversi film, tra cui uno di Zeffirelli con Brooke Shields e Martin Hewitt.

Link:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSFYZIZSEEU

Titolo: Uccelli di rovo

Autore: Colleen McCullough

Trama: La storia della famiglia Cleary, proprietaria di un grande ranch in Australia, e  del peccaminoso amore tra un alto prelato, Padre Ralph de Bricassart, e  la parrocchiana Maggie, la più giovane di casa Cleary.  

Da questo romanzo bestseller è stata tratta una miniserie televisiva di enorme successo internazionale con protagonista  Richard Chamberlain  nei panni di padre Ralph

Link:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G248w9ZNoDw

TItolo: L’altro nome dell’amore

Autore: Colleen McCullough  

Trama: Settembre 1945: la guerra è finita e in un 'ospedale militare autraliano si attende  la smobilitazione. Proprio allora arriva dal fronte il sergente Michael  Wilson, che ha aggredito un  superiore, edi è stato giudicato psichicamente instabile. L'accoglienza di  dell’infermiera Langtry è  molto amichevole nei suoi confronti; non così quella degli altri pazienti, tutti con supposti problemi mentali, e tutti o quasi invaghiti della donna.

Da questo libro pure nel 1985 fu tratto un film An Indecent Obsession con  Wendy Hughes e Gary Sweet.  Non so se uscì anche in italia.

Link:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PlJWKvYayc8

Titolo: Shogun

Autore: James Clavell

Trama:  Partito alla volta dell'Oriente per il monopolio olandese del commercio  con Cina e Giappone, John Blackthorne, comandante dell'Erasmus, si  ritrova costretto da una tremenda tempesta al naufragio in un villaggio  di pescatori nel Giappone feudale del XV secolo. In un mondo sconosciuto  e lontano, Blackthorne deve trovare il modo di sopravvivere. Grazie al  suo coraggio, che lo condurrà sulla via dei samurai, con il soprannome  di Anjin (il navigatore) diventerà il fido aiutante dello Shogun e nella  sua ascesa al potere conoscerà l'amore impossibile per la bella e  ambigua Mariko.        

Da questo romanzo bestseller fu tratta nel 1980 una miniserie televisiva diretta da Jerry London ed interpretata da Richard Chamberlain e Toshirō Mifune. Chamberlain era un attore molto famoso e amato negli anni 80′ e la serie fu seguitissima. Non ho trovato online la versione doppiata in italiano (se voi la trovate fatemelo sapere), ma quella in inglese sì:    

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_U1Gupe6iY

Titolo: Abissi

Autore: Peter Benchley (già autore del romanzo da cui fu tratto il film LO Squalo)

Trama:  Una coppia si reca  in luna di miele alle Bermuda. Durante un’immersione subacquea scoprono i  resti di un tesoro e delle fiale che contengono una misteriosa  sostanza. Comincia di qui, tra minacce e violenze, apparizioni di  mostri marini e incidenti provocati da una banda di mafiosi,  un’avventura che cambia la vita innocente di entrambi.

Anche da questo libro di Benchley fu tratto un film adrenalinico che però ebbe un po’ meno successo di Lo squalo, con protagonisti  Jacqueline Bisset e Nick Nolte.

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wcn9PXZC1s4

Titolo: Selvagge

Autore: Shirley Conran

Trama: romanzo del genere catastrofico, che  racconta la storia di cinque donne che assistono all’assalto e  all’uccisione dei loro mariti, trucidati da commandos polinesiani. La  loro sorte è segnata. Le donne si salvano invece con la fuga, consapevoli di non conoscere  nulla del mondo che le circonda. Dovranno diventare selvagge e  difendersi dai nemici. Silvana, la madre del gruppo è forse la più fragile, Carey la più forte  fisicamente ma la meno amata. Suzy la bambola sexy, che maturerà nel  corso del romanzo, Anne e la sua amica sono meno delineate. Intorno a  loro solo uomini che le cercano e chissà se le troveranno.

Warner Bros ne detiene i diritti cinematografici ma non ne ha mai tratto un film.

Altri libri facenti parte la collezione di mia cugina, e in vendita:

- Collana Romanzi Harmony

J. Evans, Collega… e poi?

S. Craven, L’arcano svelato

C. Moore, La strada verso l’amore

G. Green, Il corteggiatore di Laura

C. Spencer, Dolci parole sussurrate

- Signorsì, di Liala

- Un abisso chiamato amore, di Liala

- Le briglie d’oro, di Liala

- Lalla che torna, di Liala

- Settecorna, di Liala

- Per ritrovare quel bacio, di Liala

- La più cara sei tu, di Liala  

Conoscevate già questi libri? Vi hanno incuriosito? Se vi inteessa comprarli contattatemi pure qui o su facebook.

[miss-gioconda]

Pinochle (Male!Jessica Rabbit/Reader)

You found yourself enormously worried about Jessie. Lately, he was unusually morose, and there were more wrinkles between his arched red browns. His signing, usually bright and foamy and intoxicating just like the best of champagne, became low, cold and dry in emotions. What was worse that nobody noticed it beside you. But, after all, Jessie Rabbit was your best friend since high school.

Sitting on the couch now you were sharing a dinner on a Jessie’s veranda outside the city. Evening was advancing towards your windows; the sounds of bright summers’ crickets and the creeks of accidental birds were in the air, but you were as anxious as never before. Allowing his feet moving without noticing, Jessie muttered something about a tomorrow’s show and broke into silence. He became absorbed beyond mere moodiness as he was biting his plump feminine lips.

Driving by the feeling of uneasiness of wrong-happening, your mind formed the uncertain line of excuse to start a conversation:

‘Let’s never order the take-away from this restaurant again.’

‘Why?’ perplexedly he turned away from his thoughts.

‘I hate the taste of a brownie. It’s too sharp,’ you clicked your tongue.

‘Shame there ain’t nothing we can do now.’

Then you were busy munching your food again. The ticking of the clock on a wall began to get on your nerves and you heard a fly buzzing outside; it was charcoal black and emerald green. Your hands were cold without any sufficient movements and with knee-deep concern. And boredom ate you inside out. You finally stared back at Jessie: he was perfect as always, with his long hair being messy, but just enough, and with his crimson shirt richly flowing down his fair muscles, and with his ears pointing in the cutest way ever. But the thing you loved the most about him was that his beauty that never made you feel insignificant, insecure.

But you definitely were not in love with him.

‘Honest, Jessie, we’d better do something,’ you started again.

Jessie looked up.

‘Sorry, honey, I’m not in the mood. If it were another day –’

‘– but I need you to cheer up just now. Tomorrow is a busy day for you; I want you to have some fun today.’

If it were lighter, you would notice a slight reddish shame swapped across Jessie’s face. But the evening was dark enough. You felt a gale of sympathy as you saw Jessie drumming his fingers impatiently on his lap. It seemed like he wanted to say something. Something high-risky and not on the topic.

‘Do you have cards?’ you asked first. The first rule of defense: attack.

‘I do,’ Jessie sneered. ‘Want me to bring them?’

You smiled back steadily.

‘Pinochle sounds like a great idea actually; what do you think?’

‘Good. Give me a minute.’

Asking Jessie to play cards was dangerous. Not that you didn’t know how to play, on the contrary, you knew and knew fairly well since you had got embroiled in some youthful hijinks, but Jessie was a genius. One could not expect less from a man who’d make drunken women swoon while hustling them in a card room. His smile made anyone lose sight of themselves and their wallets. You thought that, frankly, Jessie just loved leaving people high and dry.

The nasty food was gone, and there were only two pairs of hands on the table.

‘Jessie,’ you said carefully. ‘If I win, you will tell me what’s bothering you.’

Jessie skillfully reshuffled the deck, a sardonic expression on his face.

‘Spades are trumps,’ he declared, bending to put the ten of spades in the middle of varnished wood surface. ‘You won’t win, but I will. And when I will, you will do something for me.’

‘Deal,’ you nodded.

The game was heated. Rush of adrenaline never leaving your veins, arteries, and your throbbing temples, you caught yourself on trembling hands. On the other hand, Jessie was tranquil. With his sullen spirits gone, he looked especially boyish and young. Just like a dog with two tails, you thought. You made another reckless move. The game started to resemble more and more not a fight, but a dance, and if your game were actually a dance, it would be indeed nothing but a tango, with feelings hovering in mid-air and tension on the tips of tongues.

Jessie raised his eyebrow at you when you lost.

‘Please don’t worry,’ he purred, scooping up the deck and putting it inside of a box.

‘Don’t comfort me, Jessie,’ you pretended to be pouting and got on your legs.

‘I do not. Well, I do. But my wish won’t be easy for you.’

Jessie stood up alongside you and clapped you close to his side; you watched him with a great interest and a slight surrender, and your lashes were fluttering. You had never seen such face on him before. You resisted temptation to make a joke. Your heart was pumping heavily. Everything was natural and simple, his palms on the small of your back, his warm, calm cheek near your right ear.

‘I want you to close your eyes,’ he smirked.

And you closed them. Without objections and questions.

And suddenly it was like you were being kissed for the first time. His lips smoldered on yours. You shifted yourself up and put your hands around his neck. Then, turning his head, he licked slowly along the edge of your jaw line, his expression gentle and highly erotic.

No, you were definitely in love with Jessie Rabbit.

But you sincerely hated the taste of that awful brownie.

[razgriz2520]

Jessica Veranda / Ve - JKT48 Graduated Member (1st Gen)

[womanontheradio]

Jessica hammered with her fist against Trish's veranda window. Her hair was disshevelled and her clothing looked like she had not done laundry in who knew how long. Between her fingers slipped an half empty bottle of brandy. There was something glassy in her gaze and Jessica slurred: "Can I crash in your place? Please?" (obsessionsarenotforheroes)

@obsessionsarenotforheroes

Blinking her eyes a few times Trish grunted as the banging continued. “What the hell,” she mumbled as she stood. If it was a bugler they wouldn’t be knocking, so she decided against grabbing the bat under her bed. She was in just a tank and shorts so she grabbed her robe and walked into the living room as she tied it.

Seeing Jessica standing there was shock enough, seeing her in the condition she was in took her breath. “Shit,” she cursed out as she opened the veranda door. “You look awful,” she said, though probably not the first thing her sister wanted to hear. Grabbing the bottle before it hit the ground she stepped back. “You’re drunk too. Get your ass in here.”

Shaking her head she put the bottle down, and put her hands on her sisters arms. “Yes you can crash here, but not before you get your behind in the shower and let me wash those clothes.” Leading her towards the bathroom, “Come on, lets get you cleaned up, can you stand without falling?” Not sure she should take the chance she would get Jessica into the bathroom, sit her down on the toilet and then grab something clean to put her in. 

“How much have you had to drink, and are you on anything else?”