#Oc: Catherine piec

[lostfirefly]

"What do you want from me? Tell me! What do you want from her? Huh? Tell me! Stop looking at me and smiling, plush bastard!!" Buggy shook the octopus toy in his hands. "You look at her, you smile at her. She's mine, you understand? The fact that she hugs you doesn't mean anything. She hugs me too. And I can do things with her that you can't do. What can you do? Nothing! You're just a pink piece of fucking foam rubber. Stop staring at me!! Are you trying to irritate me on purpose? Hate you!!"

"Oh my god, I felt so good in the hot bath. I'm gonn-- What are you doing?" Catherine asked, entering the bedroom.

"Nothing." Buggy quickly threw the toy onto the bed.

"Are you holding plush Buggy?"

"He's not.. He's not Buggy!!!" He threw the toy on the floor.

"Why did you do that?" Catherine picked up the toy. "Don't be afraid, my plush Buggy." She stroked octopus' head and kissed him. "I won't let that grumpy clown hurt you."

"Stop calling that plush bastard by my name!!"

"But I love your name!" Catherine put the toy on her nightstand. "Plus, it reminds me of my birthday when you won it for me at the shooting range." She climbed onto the bed. "Hi!" She kissed Buggy on his cheek.

"Seriously, woman?" Buggy crossed his arms. "Are you kissing me after him?"

"Oh my God! I can't believe you're jealous of my toy." Catherine covered herself with a blanket and took a book.

"I'm not!" Buggy tried to be confident even he was annoyed that she kissed the toy first and not him.

"Yes, you are! Damn. I lay down so comfortably. My blue-haired love, can you bring me some tea?"

"But I lie comfortably too! Oh, I know! Ask your octopus. I'm sure he'll happily jump off the nightstand and run to the kitchen on his plush tentacles."

"Oh, damn you, fucking clown." Catherine was about to stand up.

"Wait!" Buggy stopped her. "Fine! Which one do you want?"

"Lavender, please."

"Fine." Buggy shifted his gaze to the nightstand. "I'll be back. See?" He snapped his fingers. "Your plush bastard isn't perfect. He won't do that. He won't bring you tea. But I.." He pointed at himself. "I'll do that."

Catherine watched Buggy go and looked at the octopus toy. "He's so funny, isn't he? He's jealous of my sister and you. But don't be afraid, he won't do anything to you. He knows that I love you." She stroked toy's head. "You're so cute!"

"I'm back." Buggy saw Catherine petting the toy and tried his best to restrain himself. "Here, your tea." He held the mug in Catherine's hand. "How can you drink this? Lavender smells weird. Fuck! Now the whole bedroom will stink of that purple fucking grass again."

"Am I in for a night of clown whining? Maybe I need to drink something stronger?" Catherine took a sip. "Damn! So good!"

"I'm not whining."

"Yes, you're. An hour ago you were grumbling that I was lighting cinnamon and ylang-ylang candles in the bathroom."

"They smell weird too!" Buggy rolled his eyes. "Why can't you buy candles that smell like rum, beer or hot dogs?"

"Because I don't want to lie in a bathtub that smells like a cheap dive bar, Buggy. It's ridiculous. Now, be quiet, I'm reading a book."

Buggy carefully moved towards Catherine and she immediately pressed her back against him, covering them both with a blanket. Buggy looked at the smiling toy and rolled his eyes.

"What are you reading?" He asked quietly, placing his chin on Catherine's shoulder.

"20.000 leagues under the sea."

"What is it about?"

"Oh!" Catherine scratched Buggy's head. "This's the story of marine biologist Pierre Aronnax, his manservant Conseil and harpoonist Ned Land, who – after joining the hunt for a mysterious sea monster – are thrown overboard when the monster attacks and find themselves prisoners of Captain Nemo. It's a very interesting book. Captain, sea, adventure."

"I knew from our first meeting that you had the spirit of adventure." Buggy chuckled.

"I'm long way from your spirit of adventure, my flashy fool. You agreed to both trips so easily." Catherine run her fingers over the lines. "Oh, listen. The sea is everything. It covers seven tenths of the terrestrial globe. Its breath is pure and healthy. It is an immense desert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life stirring on all sides. The sea is only the embodiment of a supernatural and wonderful existence. It is nothing but love and emotion; it is the `Living Infinite,′ as one of your poets has said. I don't know why but these lines remind me of you."

"Why?" Buggy placed his hand on her waist.

"I don't know." Catherine scratched his head again. "There's something inside of you. You know. It's as if you've locked away something from your past life. Some kind of fire of life, if I may say so. Listen.. Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Are you happy with your life?"

"Why are you asking?"

"I don't know. Don't you want to drop everything and go somewhere far far away?"

"Me?" Buggy shrugged. "Nah! I have a circus. I have money. A roof over my head."

"And me!" Catherine giggled.

"Fine! And you."

"And if you want to go somewhere, will you take me with you?" Catherine asked quietly.

"If you behave well, I'll take you." Buggy kissed her temple.

"Of course you will take me. Where would you go without me? You can hardly stand 20 minutes without me."

"Hey! I lived somewhere before you!"

"I wonder what you were like before you met me." Catherine looked at Buggy of the corner of her eye. "You've changed a lot in these months. From a grump, you've become a little less of a grump."

"I'm not grumpy! A grumpy guy can't be a sex god!" Buggy giggled idiotically.

"God!!" Catherine rolled her eyes. "I knew this phrase would stuck in your head!"

"I can't forget such a high praise of my talent!" Buggy tried to kiss her neck.

"Your talent is to piss me off!" Catherine gently pushed his head away. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to seduce you. You're sending me a signal!" Buggy tried to kiss her neck again.

"In what universe am I sending you signals?!" Catherine pushed his hand away again. "Get your painted lips away from me! I'm reading a book."

Buggy exhaled sadly. "You're such a fool. Turn on the TV and watch your sports channels, because thi-i-is won't happen today.. "

"Damn!"

Catherine started running her fingertips over his stubble. "You are unshaven and prickly. I like that. Oh! Can you get me a cookie with your chop chop thing? It's in my nightstand, top drawer."

"Cookies?" Buggy asked sadly. "So there definitely won't be anything today?"

"Na-ah! You are being punished."

"For what?" Buggy almost squealed.

"For what you did last night. God, I'm even ashamed to remember it." Catherine blushed.

"But it was go-o-o-od!" Buggy exclaimed, a silly grin spreading across his face as he gazed at Catherine, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We can do it again r-r-right now!" He tried to kissed her neck again.

"Na-ah!" Catherine pushed his head away gently. "I won't remove the punishment. We will never repeat what you did to me in the motel during the second adventure. I don't know how you managed to talk me into doing that again. It's so strange that you can sit in a chair. And yours... you know... maybe in me.. God!" Catherine blushed.

Buggy giggled idiotically in response. "I wish you could see your face. It was fun to watch."

"Stop laughing, jerk! This is not normal! You can leave... well.. him at home, do whatever you want with me, and you yourself will sit somewhere in a bar and sip beer. It's so strange!"

"If you don't want to do it like yesterday, we can do it the usual way."

"No-o-o!" Catherine slapped his hands. "Stop grabbing my ass and get your tentacles off me! Take your beer and chips, watch a hockey game and tell your little Buggy he has a day off today." Catherine kissed him on his nose. "Please, my love, get me some cookies."

"Double damn!" Buggy murmured under his breath, reached out to get the cookie, and turned his gaze to the toy. Its embroidered smile seemingly mocking Buggy in the quiet of the moment.

"It's your fault, fucking octopus!!"

[truehauntings]

can i hear about your ocs from the midsummer post ?

Yes!!!!

Ok, so, Catherine Appleby is a witch, - specialty: necromancy to be exact - and she lives in a small and haunted cottage in the late Victorian era (maybe), doing witchy things and selling witchy stuff. She is not talented at practising necromancy which is probably the reason why the ghosts stuck around. She is sarcastic, stoic and a bit of a lone wolf. Also quite gay.

Her previous girlfriend died and her mentor is a healer who couldnt save her because it was too late ("I can heal people who are sick or injured, I can't bring them back to life") so Catherine, heartbroken, is questioning the healing path more and more and she decides to pursue necromancy to be able to do that.

One time one of her necromancy spells goes wrong and instead of putting someone dead from the past into the future, still alive, she accidentally catapults someone from the 21st century into her own time.

Introducing: Evelyn Mellington. I don't have such a grasp on her character yet but I do like to imagine she is somewhat of a goth and quite drawn to antiques/the past/history in the first place. She likes to bond with the ghosts in the house and finds the time travelling adventure absolutely fascinating. (Self insert here, ngl).

Since Evelyn is not a magician, Catherine, with a somewhat guilty concience about this whole thing, tries to teach Evelyn magic, so she can get back to her own time. Hijinks ensue.

Also they fall in love.

I have created them in the Sims one time, here's how they look (Catherine on the left, Evelyn on the right):

(Ignore their not historically accurate hair)

Historical census coincidence, maybe a gay one, in the tags🫡

[thetwstwildcard]

Lizz wips going into the last normal week of the semester (since the week after is finals week)

Chibi piece update, playful lands oc wip (she has wooden arm and leg prosthetics, very inspired by Beast from Black Butler since I see Fellow as very Joker) and finally a Catherine casual outfit (the tattoo is now official in her design. You can tell the siblings share some fashion)

[justarandomidiot1]

James Riley Appreciation Week!

Family / Angst

So I made this headcanon a few years ago that after the events of Story Thieves, Christian and Catherine decide to have another kid, but I couldn't decide the gender of the kid and ended up making fraternal twins. Bethany and Orion are now big siblings to two more half fictional children.

This is the first time I drew the twins and gave them names lmao maybe i'll draw them again in the future

[kvroii]

Sketching with the binary brush in SAI.

[brainyxbat]

Recast for one of my favorite music videos!

[lazyroseart]

It's my birthday so Imma just post my recent redraw lol plus the past ones cause this is is the third time (Didn't do one last year)

[lostfirefly]

One of my upcoming flashbacks.

Buggy x Catherine

"Maybe jeans and a t-shirt? No! No, Catherine! Today's your special day! You're going to Buggy's performance after all. This is your first visit to his show as his girlfriend. Secret girlfriend. You gotta look special. Oh! A green dress! To match the color of his eyes. And a blue bag to match his hair color!” Catherine squealed happily, jumping near the closet. She got dressed, turned around in front of the mirror and went for a walk before the show.

This week’s word is…

✨ TURN ✨

Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[kumkaniudaku]

Peace and Quiet

Summary: Terry spends a summer day with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC (Patrice Ellis)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Mentions of Death, Blood, and Injury

The worst had come for Deidra Richmond and the Richmond family. 

Months of doctor’s visits leading to long hospital stays full of machines that beeped incessantly to taunt any who found enough courage to visit Catherine Alexander slowly devolved into a grim diagnosis, rapidly declining health, hospice care, and, finally, the end. At 75 years old, Catherine transitioned to a realm beyond the physical to suffer no more from the pain of late stage breast cancer. She passed away with her loved ones standing beside her bed, oscilating between laughter and painful wailing until the sounds became one. 

Terry watched his mother crumple into a mess of tears from the doorframe before turning away to entertain his twin sisters who couldn’t quite piece together what was happening with grandma. He could though. He knew exactly what’d happened to grandma. He’d never hug her neck again and hear his nickname, Peanut, come in her wonderful high-pitched Southern drawl. She wouldn’t make him another double chocolate cake for Thanksgiving or gift him sneakers for Christmas. All of her birthday cards were no more. Monetary gifts for good grades became relics of a time before his first dose of grief nearly knocked the wind from his lungs. Grandma was gone. 

A full day of crying and consoling two ten year olds clinging to their big brother quickly became a dizzying week full of people parading in and out of the Richmond household. Routine condolences became like nails on Terry’s mental chalkboard. Yes, he knew how much his grandma loved him. No, he didn’t know where he mother wanted the follower. He didn’t want to be strong. He wouldn’t be okay. He just wanted to be left alone and released from walls closing in one him with every unwanted hug and request to help type the funeral program. 

Patrice offered to come over on day two. She could sense his heavy heart over the phone when he called to break the news and ask if her mom knew how to make a good potato salad because his aunt was still barred from making the dish for their family after the last debacle. 

“Yeah, she does,” Patrice answered, hoping he could hear the sympathy in her voice. “I could bring some by if you wanna taste.” 

Terry sighed and chewed the inside of his cheek. “Actually, can I come over there instead?”

He didn’t stay long for his first visit. Rosalyn offered the boy with a forlorn smile and tired eyes a healthy helping of her special dish and he picked his way through it, too sad to say anything but a quiet “thank you” and ask if she minded making more for the repast. 

“Of course, baby. Whatever you need.” Rosalyn didn’t need Patrice’s pleading to convince her. Terry was just as much one of her children as Patrice and Junior. 

Mournful silence followed the pair out to the driveway as they prepared to part ways and agree on the what time Patrice should meet at Terry’s house to accompany him to the funeral. 

He stopped short at his truck’s driver’s side and leaned against the door to face Patrice. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want, Treece. It just gonna be a bunch of people crying and actin’ like they ever came to see her when she was sick.” 

“Stop sayin’ that, TJ,” Patrice admonished. “If you’re going, I’m going. So I’ll have my mama drop me and the food off at 10, okay?” 

“Yeah.” Passing cars swept Terry’s murmured response into their cacophony of sounds. Eyes committed to counting the pebbles beneath his feet finally looked up to ask the question clawing at his throat, itching to break free. “Can I…come back tomorrow?” 

It was then, with the summer sun high in a cloudless sky, that Patrice could see the faint pink hue coloring the whites of his eyes. Tears shed in private and a burden far too heavy for a child brought to light without a word spoken between them. She didn’t draw attention to her discovery or reach out to pull his shoulders into a tight hug in the only window of unsupervised time they’d had all day. 

Instead she nodded and answered plainly. “Come here whenever you want.” 

Patrice didn’t ask either of her parents for their blessing. She didn’t consult them for permission or even alert them to Terry’s intention to use their home as his escape pod. When Rosalyn found him sulking at the kitchen table, a bowl of chips and half eaten sandwich in front of him while he stared absently into the distance, she didn’t disturb his moment of reflection. She didn’t scold Patrice for her lack of communication or tiptoe around as if she’d inherited an unwanted house guest. Leon didn’t ask questions when he found Terry dressed in all black and quietly watching Junior play video games with Patrice nowhere in sight instead of eating dinner with his extended family a neighborhood over. No one said anything when a week had passed and their bonus kid and extra sibling was still finding solace in a home free of death’s heaviness. 

Lunch had just wrapped when Terry trudged up the front steps, rang the doorbell twice to cue Patrice, and slipped into the ice cold confines of his safe space. 

“You look tired.” Patrice didn’t mince words and Terry couldn’t find it within himself to lie his way through an answer. 

He shrugged. “I was helping my mama clean up Granny’s house last night. Guess it got late.” 

“Did you sleep after that,” Patrice questioned over her shoulder as he followed her toward her bedroom.

“Kinda hard to get rest when you have two kids in your bed.” His attempt at a laugh sounded more like a bitter huff, dry and lacking the goofy joy only Patrice was privy to on a day to day. 

She followed his every move around the room while carefully propping the door open for when her mother eventually made her way back in from Mrs. Wright’s next door vegetable garden. 

The weary sigh escaping his lungs melded with slow moving, heavy legs easing his body into her favorite chair in the house. Patrice made herself comfortable at the head of her bed, allowing silence to blanket the room.

Terry let his eyes drift closed for a moment, only to open them and find a set etched with concern staring back at him. “I’m fine, Treece,” he asserted, hoping to quell any worry. “What’s the plan for today? Wanna take Junior to the skate park like we promised?” 

“I think my daddy wants y’all’s help finishing that bench swing on the back. Then maybe we get ice cream after that?” 

“Sure.” Terry’s thoughts had taken him to some far off land too secluded for even Patrice to accompany him on his journey, leaving her with a half-assed response and a friend staring blankly at the wall ahead. 

Patrice shifted in her cross-legged position before speaking. “Are you…okay, TJ?” The question felt incomplete and went entirely unanswered, but not unheard. Terry quickly glanced in Patrice’s direction but remained silent. She tried again. “If you aren’t we can talk. Or we can sit here and watch movies until my daddy gets back. It’s up to you.” 

Still nothing. Time passed painfully slow while Patrice waited for any sign that Terry might twist the lid on canned emotions and welcome her inside his head. But, he provided nothing and she didn’t press. 

Terry sat motionless, suspended in a state of paralysis, wanting to speak but not possessing an iota of strength to open his mouth and ask for help. He was drowning. Water from his tears and some of his mothers had long engulfed him a wrafthful, unyielding high tide slowly pulling him into water too deep for rescue. He wrestled with himself, desperately begging his tongue to move to no avail. 

A wavering breath steadied rising emotions as Patrice appeared to give up on any possibility of a conversation and searched her nightstand for the television remote. “No.” His voice paused Patrice’s shuffling to shift her attention across the room. Terry closed his eyes and sighed again to push the words out of his mouth. “All my days are bad. Unless I’m over here. Then it’s less bad. I know I have to be happy for Zanah and Zorah and mom and dad so they don’t have to worry about me too, but -” He paused to gather the anger bubbling inside his chest before starting a new thought. “I like being here. It’s peaceful. Cold as bitch, but still. It’s a good break.”

Patrice scooched closer to the edge of the bed to lay on her stomach and study Terry. He kept his gaze low to avoid eye contact he knew would make him cry in the presence of his own high school crush to stick past a few weeks.

“You’re dramatic about the cold. It’s hot as the Devil’s kneecaps and you worried about the cold,” she joked. Terry allowed himself the gift of laughter, chuckling along with Patrice before finding enough resolve to return her curious stare. She offered a smile that he mirrored without effort. “I can’t tell you what to do, but it might help for you to spend a little more time with your mom. I’m sure she misses having you around. Maybe y’all could figure out how to be happy together.”

An unreceptive heart and mind sorted Patrice’s lofty idea into the pile of advice Terry had labled nice but ultimately just a thing to say when someone dies. He shrugged in indifference then slid deeper into her beanbag that had all but molded itself into his body shape after days of being its only inhabitant. “Maybe. Can you find something to watch, though, Confucius?” 

Roller her eyes, Patrice mumbled a retort under her breath and turned on the TV to scroll through the channels list for something worth their while. A seemingly endless search yielded little results, leaving Terry to drift back to his private mental island. Already waning speech crept to a halt. Defenses lowered. Limbs became putty under the weight of crisp air conditioning blowing from the vent across the room.

“Wanna watch Bad Boys 2?” Patrice’s question fell on deaf ears for a spell before she looked in his direction. Her frown slowly loosened into a fond smile while she watched his chest rise and fall, mouth slightly ajar to release the beginnings of a deep snore. Tossing a pillow from her bed, Patrice sent a soft mound of down feathers to startle him awake. She snickered at the wild look on his face when he came to. “Movie or no movie TJ?” 

“Girl! Movie! I said that, right? I said movie,” he grumbled, placing the pillow behind his head and wiggling his long body until he was comfortable again. “You play so much, Treece.” 

She waved him away and selected their first feature of the afternoon. “Whatever.”

Martin Lawrence and Will Smith had at least one active viewer. The other, slumped on the floor with a bean bag chair and an orange satin pillow case as a makeshift bed, chose dreaming as the alternative to action packed comedy. Patrice resisted the jester on her shoulder recommending different ways to interrupt his rest and convince him to join her for hijinks and pointless conversation, preferring to quietly slip a throw blanket over his body, draw the curtains, and tip-toe out of the room.

Life in the Ellis household went on with Terry out cold on Patrice’s bedroom floor. Rosalyn put a snack to the side for when eventually emerged from slumber. Junior tried his hardest to keep his voice down in the bedroom just down the hall with threats on his summer freedom as a motivator. Leon, though worn ragged from a days work and ready to start his weekend with a cold beer in the backyard, delayed completing his wife’s porch swing project to allow Terry a little more time to nap. All in the home conspired together to allow the young boy with heavy burdens space and opportunity for needed rest. 

Two hours later, once the sun had started to cast orange and pink hues on the city and turned the backyard into a golden paradise, Terry appeared in the living room feeling emotionally lighter and ready to work. Patrice saw him first and offered a small wave and smile that he returned with more visible happiness than before. She was right about the nap, and when she wasn’t so hellbent on gloating in her wins one day, he’d tell her she was right about him being tired.

He gave his thanks to Mrs. Ellis for saving a sandwich for him, playfully wrestled with Junior to satisfy his need for a little boyish horseplay, then dutifully follow Mr. Ellis outside to see his joint work through to completion. 

Patrice played supervisor as she stood with her arms folded and eyes darting between Terry’s muscles contracting from the effort and various blunders from the motley crew of handymen trying and failing to hoist the bench onto its metal chain.

“Alright, lift one more time, boys. I think I got it now,” Leon instructed Terry from the top rung on his ladder. 

Terry and Junior signaled their understanding then counted down from three to brace themselves for their fourth attempt. 

Counting down from three was inexplicably confused with counting to three in Junior’s mind. Somewhere in the middle, wires were crossed, yelps of pain rang out loud enough to disturb a flock of birds perched on the nearby wooden fence, and blood from a deep gash in Terry’s hand trickled down his aching, bruised fingers. 

He hopped around the back porch grimmacing and holding his hand while Junior apologized profusely. “It’s okay,” Terry gritted through clinched teeth. “Can I get a bandaid?” 

“Oh my God,” Patrice gawked. “Terry! Come inside and sit down. Mama!”

“Son, you gon’ need more than a bandaid. Ros! Grab the kit! The boy damn near lost his hand!” 

Leon’s exaggeration nearly sent Terry into shock as he wobbled his way into the kitchen. He finally understood where Patrice got her flare for the dramatic once Rosalyn had carefully cleared away all the blood and debris to reveal an ugly but totally normal cut running the width of his palm. 

While she worked to heal his wound with gentle care, Terry’s mind drifted to his mother a few neighborhoods over and what she might do to make him feel better. He knew she’d go to great lengths to kiss away his pain and mend his body until hurt passed and all that was left was her love. She deserved as much from him. They deserved as much from each other. He had to get home. 

Down one unharmed hand and up an almost full roll of gauze wrapped around his palm, Terry walked in front of Patrice on the way to his truck, laughing at the spectacle from before. 

Terry took a gander at his new accessory and chuckled. “At least I get a couple days out of conditioning. Shoutout to Junior for that.” 

“I don’t even know why Daddy had him out there. The boy gets out of school and forgets how to count every summer. Now I can’t get any ice cream!” Their shared laughter rang out on the empty street, floating into the sunset intertwined like two pieces of a whole. “When you come back tomorrow, I’ll have some cupcakes or something for you. By then, Daddy oughta had somebody by here to hang that thing and we can sit outside.” 

Terry chewed his bottom lip before responding. “Uh…I think I’m gonna hang out with my mama tomorrow, actually. Probably go get lunch or something. You can come too, if you want.” 

“No, that’s okay. Don’t even think about me. Spend some time with your mom. It’ll be good for you two.” Patrice didn’t hesitate to quell Terry’s anxiety with a tight squeeze around his shoulders. “Drive safe, Terry. Let me know when you get home.”

Terry brought his uninjured hand to the small of Patrice’s back and pressed her closer. “I will. Love you.” 

“Yeah. Love you, too.”

Quick bursts of electric energy passed between them before becoming the very energy to repel their bodies for good. 

Terry flashed a final smile at Patrice, putting all 32 teeth on display, then climbed into the front seat to make sense of driving without his dominant hand. The loud roar of his engine and two quick honks sent signaled his departure. Patrice chose to stand in the driveway until his was out of sight, giving Terry a mental picture to cherish forever as she grew smaller in his rear view mirror. 

He smiled when she finally seemed to go inside, unaware of the heart string spooling its way into existence.

------

Reply if you'd like to be tagged in future work!

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[janeuary-month]

End of event round-up!

Thank you to everyone who created such amazing fanworks for Janeuary 2025, and to those who supported the creators by reading, leaving kudos and comments, and liking and reblogging!

Major kudos to Kalee233 and @arsenic-lobster who each created something for every single day of the event! Wow!

Also a special shout-out to these folks who created for over 15 of the days: @elmorinn, @jomiddlemarch, @dionysiaproductions, Kissed _by_Circe

But even if you created for only one day, we’re so thrilled you did. As of today, 57 creators together added 104 fics (view the entire collection on AO3) and 40 pieces of art related to Jane Austen into the world!

🙏 Before I give you any other stats, can I ask you to take 1 minute to fill out this survey about the event? Thanks!

Ok, now that that’s done, here's some other stats (which are subject to change as people keep submitting late works—it’s still not too late to do that, folks!):

Total # of all fanworks: 172

Fanfic: 98 works

Fanart: 27

OC art: 13

Fanvids: 6

Memes: 6

OC fic: 6

Comics: 5

Gifsets: 4

Edits: 3

Moodboards: 2

Crack: 1

Photography: 1

All fandoms: 25

Pride and Prejudice: 62 works

Persuasion: 30

Emma: 24

Sense and Sensibility: 23

Original works (no fandom): 22

Northanger Abbey: 19

Mansfield Park: 6

Rivals: 4

Sanditon: 2

Beauty and the Beast: 2

ACOTAR: 2

1 work each: Attack on Titan, Avatar: The Legend of Korra, Blackadder, The Borgias, The Good Place, Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, Leverage, Lord of the Rings, Mass Effect, MCU, The Mirror Visitor, Why Didn't They Ask Evans?

We also had 2 works about Jane Austen herself, and I’m not sure what fandom to count that as: Jane Austen RPF?

Top 13 daily prompts used:

Day 1 Letters: 22 works

Day 4 Portraiture and Day 16 Gossip are tied: 16 works each

Day 2 Harp: 15

Day 6 Restraint and Day 13 Christian name are tied: 13 works each

3-way tie between Day 3 Bath, Day 8 Cravat, and Day 20 Dearest: 12 works each

4-way tie between Day 11 Card playing, Day 14 Pianoforte, 19 Lock of hair, Day 30 Garden: 11 works each

Top 10 characters used:

Elizabeth Bennet

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Anne Elliot

Emma Woodhouse

Captain Wentworth

Marianne Dashwood

Catherine Morland

George Knightley

Colonel Brandon

Henry Tilney

Top 10 ships used:

Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy

Anne Elliot/Captain Wenworth

George Knightley/Emma Woodhouse

Colonel Brandon/Marianne Dashwood

Catherine Morland/Henry Tilney

Charles Bingley/Jane Bennet

4-way tie between Catherine & Isabella, Charlotte & Elizabeth, Charlotte/Collins, and Elinor & Marianne

Observations, surprises, and learnings

Mostly canon pairings: Almost everyone depicted canon romantic and platonic pairings. Only 7 romantic ships were non-canon pairings, and they each had only 1 work. Not a single one was gay! 😢 (Which is motivating me to finally write that Wentworth/Brandon fic for next year!)

Mostly core Austen fandoms: I expected a lot more works from non-Austen fandoms, given how often I see people draw and write Regency AUs for every fandom under the sun, as well as original works, and given how many people from non-Austen fandoms I notified about the event! Also, not a single work was submitted related to a modern Austen adaptation, like Bride and Prejudice, Clueless, or Lizzie Bennet Diaries. I’m not disappointed by any of this, just surprised.

Very few gifs: While I love the 4 new gifsets made for the event, I was disappointed there were only 4, considering how many Austen gifsets I see made for Period Drama Appreciation Week, for instance, and how popular Austen gifsets are on Tumblr. Next year, I will make a concerted effort to contact more gif-makers. (And if you have any you’d love to see join, tell them about this blog! I only just found out about @regencysource yesterday, curses!)

Creativity boost: Several people told me that this event inspired them to start writing again after a block, or post a fic for the first time, or finish a fic they were stuck on. This was so wonderful to hear that the event boosted creators in this way! It made me so very happy. ❤️

Prompt interpretation: My goal with the prompts was that they be somewhat Austen/Regency-specific but not the standard, obvious choices like balls, dancing, proposals, etc., because those wouldn’t be very inspiring since they’re so common already. It was a joy to see the different ways that people used the prompts. For instance, Bath the place vs bath the activity, or literally hunting animals vs figuratively hunting men. And even the folks who used modern AUs found ways to make the very dated prompts like cravat and calling cards work! Bravo on everyone’s creativity!

👉  If you have any suggestions for prompts for next year, or other feedback, I’d love it if you shared it with me via this very short and easy survey!

I had a blast hosting this, so Janeuary will definitely be back for 2026! Keep your eyes peeled for the prompts in September!

[lostfirefly]

Friday it's a perfect day for a good smut! Buggy came back home) nsfw part is included

Buggy stumbled blindly into the dark bedroom, his vision obscured by the inky blackness of the late hour. Exhausted from a long day's trip, he clumsily made his way across the room, his tired feet catching on the leg of a chair beside his desk. 

"Fuck!" he cursed out loud, the sharp pain of the impact shooting through his foot. Overcome by frustration, he lashed out, kicking the offending chair with a muffled thud. "Fucking chair!" he muttered angrily under his breath, berating the inanimate object as if it were somehow to blame for his own lack of awareness. 

Pausing for a moment, he strained to listen, his ears picking up the soft, steady breaths of sleeping Catherine, in the bed across the room. Realizing he had not woken her, Buggy exhaled a quiet sigh of relief, carefully making his way around the chair and towards the mattress, desperate to collapse into the comfort of sleep and escape the long day.

“Fuck! Finally!” He groaned into the pillow, moved his body closer to Catherine, and placed his hand on her waist. “My cot—” 

“Oh dear god!!!” Сatherine jolted awake with a start, her heart racing as she instinctively elbowed Buggy in the nose, grabbing a plush, tentacled stuffed octopus - and swung it forcefully at the unsuspecting figure lying beside her. 

“Fuck!!” Buggy grabbed his nose.

"Who are you?!! Get out!!" She kicked away the body lying next to her in fear, and Buggy fell to the floor with a crash. “Get out! I’ll cut you!! I have a knife!!”

“Fuck!! Are you out of your mind??” Buggy rose slightly from the floor.

“What?! Who are you?!! Get out!!” Catherine spanked the body with the stuffed toy several times.

"Ouch! For what, cotton candy?" the muffled voice protested, clearly caught off guard by Catherine's unexpected attack. 

Blinking rapidly to adjust her eyes to the darkness, Catherine leaned in closer, squinting to make out the familiar features of her boyfriend. "Buggy? Is that you?" she questioned, her voice laced with both concern and confusion. 

"No,” Buggy let out an exasperated sigh, “It's not me, it’s the king of the pirates," he said in a sarcastic tone. “Fuck, woman! You are so strong, even though you are small and skinny. Shit! My body!” 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were coming tomorrow." She hugged the octopus.

"I’m sorry that I decided not to stay the night and went home right after the party. Should I leave?" Buggy giggled, climbing onto the bed. "Cotton candy?" He listened to the silence. "Catherine? Why are you silent?"

Smack. Squeal. Smack. Squeal. Smack. Squeal.

“Hi, hi, hi!!” 

Smack. Smack. Smack. 

"Fuck! I knew it would be like this!" Buggy tried to dodge Catherine's attack. "Woman, calm down!"

Catherine turned on the lamp on the nightstand and saw Buggy sitting on the bed. “HI-I-I!” She wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“Hi!” He waved at her. 

Squeal. Smack. Squeal. Smack,

“Geeez!” 

“I’m so happy you're back!!”

“Really?” Buggy chuckled. “You threw me out of bed, little shit! And punched me in my nose.” 

“Shit! Sorry!” Catherine quickly examined his face. “Everything is fine.” Smack.

“See, you missed me so much that you came early." 

“I didn't miss you, I just wanted to go home.” Buggy growled.

“Liar!” Smack. Smack. Smack. “How were all the shows? How were your bar parties? Did any fan girls hit on you?” 

“I don't have fan girls! Stop mocking me!”

“No, you have! I saw them!” Smack. Smack. Smack. 

“Stop doing it!!” Buggy rolled his eyes. 

“But I missed you!” Catherine started stroking his hair. “Oh, shit! You must be hungry.” 

“Nah. Stopped at a cafe to have a snack.” Buggy exhaled. “Fuck! I'm tired, Cathie-pie. All I want to do is sleep." He sighed as he kicked off his boots, pushed the covers aside and crawled under them. "Damn, I don't even have the strength to undress. Fuck it! I’ll sleep in jeans and a t-shirt."

Catherine immediately snuggled closer to Buggy and wrapped her arms around him. "I saw every single article in the paper. I'm so proud of you!!"

Buggy immediately wrapped his arms around her waist. "Yeah. Well.. What did you do without me?”

“As you know, went to our bar. Nice men flirted with me. One even offered to go away with him.” Catherine looked at Buggy's displeased face. "Oh, god! You should see yourself now, clown.“ She laughed. “I missed your unhappy face. If you saw this man, you would tear him apart. I love it when you're jealous!" 

"I'm not jealous! I'm a grown and scary man! A grown man can't be jealous!” Buggy kissed her in the top of her head. 

"A grown and scary man can't be, but you're!” Catherine giggled. “Come on! You're jealous of me, even with a plush Buggy." She picked up the toy and twirled it in front of his face.

“Stop calling that fucking pink bastard by my name!!” Buggy grabbed the toy and shoved it into the nightstand drawer. 

"But I love your name. It sounds unique. Buggy… Buggy. And you always hug me like an octopus.” Catherine ran her fingers over his cheek. “Tell me how it all went?” 

“Meh, okay. Cities, people, applause."

“My favorite clown under his favorite spotlights, yeah?”

"Kind of. By the way, I brought you a present." Buggy sent his hand in his bag and pulled out some candy. "Here."

“Wow! Lavender cream candies?” Catherine kissed him on his nose. “Thank you!”

“And one more gift.” Buggy sent his hand into the bag again. “Here. I bought it in some souvenir shop near a local bar.”

"A notebook and a mug with Egyptian symbols on it? And a picture frame with symbols on it? Woah! Amazing!! Thank you!!" Catherine pecked him on the lips a few times. "Wow! The frame is amazing. I wanna put our picture together in this. Can I put our picture together in this?”

“Meh, ok. It’s your frame after all. And you can write down your favorite Egyptian stupid things in a notebook.” 

“Oh, look, there’s an inscription here.” Catherine ran her fingers over the lines. "Listen. It says. 

Like Hathor, with her ancient light,You bring the day to my darkest night,A symphony of souls entwined,In the tapestry of love, we're designed. 

So here I stand, my truth laid bare,With every breath, a whispered prayer,Like Hathor is goddess of love above,In every heartbeat, I say: I love you.” Catherine looked at him with wet eyes. “Oh my god, Buggy…” 

“What?” Buggy looked at her with a question in his eyes. “Did I do something wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Smack. Smack. Smack.

“Fuck!! Stop doing this, woman!! What's wrong with you?!”

“Love!” Smack. “Love!” Smack. “Love, love, love you!” Smack. Smack. Smack. “Thank you for this wonderful gift. And the inscription... I know it's hard for you to say all these romantic things sometimes, but don't worry, okay? I know you love me, and I cherish the way you say it to me.” 

“There was no way! I had no idea what was written!!” Buggy groaned. “I just saw that dude and took this notebook! I remember how much you like these men with fucking bird’s heads.”

“Blue-haired liar!” Catherine looked at Buggy and ran her hand over his bandana. "You know, the house is completely different without your grumbling and morning pestering. It is so quiet. I never thought that I would get bored in silence. Even reading a book without listening to you rattling everything in the kitchen or your chewing is very sad." Catherine moved closer. "I'm so glad you're finally home." She kissed him on the lips and ran her hand over his shirt. “Wow! My Buggy Bear is so tense.” 

“This’s still a terrible nickname, by the way.”

“I don’t care. I love your nickname.” Catherine gazed affectionately at Buggy as she ran her soft, delicate hand across his taut, muscular stomach. She could feel the warmth of his skin radiating through the thin fabric of his shirt, and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing as he relaxed under her touch. 

"My little bear has been driving for hours," she murmured tenderly, her fingers tracing the firm contours of his sides. “To see his Cathie-pie earlier.”

Buggy let out a contented sigh, the tension in his body slowly starting to melt away. "Oh, yeah, cotton candy. So good," he mumbled, his words slightly slurred as he drifted further into a state of blissful relaxation. 

Sensing Buggy's fatigue, Сatherine gently slapped his back, an invitation for him to lie down on his stomach so she could tend to his weary muscles. Buggy complied, rolling over with a heavy sigh, and she immediately climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. Digging her fingers into the firm flesh of his back, Catherine began working out the knots and kinks, her touch working wonders to soothe his aching body. As she kneaded and massaged, she could feel the stress and strain slowly ebbing away, replaced by a deep sense of calm and tranquility. Catherine loved these quiet, intimate moments when their bond grew ever stronger, each of them reveling in the simple pleasure of being together, of caring for one another, and of finding solace in each other's embrace.

“So good, cotton candy.” Buggy exhaled. 

Catherine slowly ran her hands down his sides, feeling the contours of his body beneath the fabric of his shirt. It was a simple gesture, one filled with warmth and tenderness, but it was interrupted when Buggy suddenly took her hand in his. The connection sparked an instant wave of concern within her.

“What? Did I do something wrong? Did I touch the scars too hard?” Catherine asked, her voice laced with anxiety. 

She had become acutely aware of the delicate balance between comfort and discomfort, the weight of his past resting heavily between them.

Buggy shook his head, squeezing her hand slightly to reassure her. “No.” 

The word was simple, but it carried a depth of feeling that seemed to resonate in the quiet space around them. Yet, as his gaze drifted for a moment, she could see that his thoughts were elsewhere, lost in memories that he had yet to share. 

“I missed home,” Buggy said softly, the admission hanging in the air like a fragile truce between them. 

It was a moment that echoed with unspoken stories, the scars on his skin bearing witness to a life of challenges, loss, and longing. In that silence, Catherine felt a growing desire to bridge the gap between their worlds, to help him find solace in her presence, even as he navigated the shadows of his past.

Catherine leaned over and kissed his head. “Me and home missed you too.” 

"You know, everyone in the circus has a vacation week. I’ll stay home.” 

Catherine kissed his head again. "Sounds great.” She slowly moved her lips to his neck. “Feel better now?”

“Yeah.”

“What about now? Is this better?” Catherine moved her lips to his back and kissed him on one scar, then on the other.

“Catherine, don't.” Buggy gently tried to stop her.

“Why?” She kissed the scar again.

“I don't know. Aren't you disgusted?”

Catherine sat up a little and ran her hands down his back. "My love, don't say such horrible things. You will never disgust me."

In a swift, decisive motion, Buggy easily flipped her over onto the soft, plush bedding, his strong frame now hovering confidently above hers. 

“Hey!” Catherine squealed. “What the fuck? Can't control yourself, huh? Can't wait until the morning? How did you survive a week without me?” 

Catherine's fingers grazed the soft fabric of the bandana, feeling the texture that had become a part of him. With a gentle tug, she removed it, letting Buggy's long blue hair cascade freely around his shoulders like a vibrant waterfall. The bright strands shimmered in the light, catching her breath as she took in the sight. She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. Her legs intertwined with his, a playful entanglement that mirrored the flutter of her heart. It was as if they were creating their own little universe, where nothing else mattered but the shared rhythm of their breaths and the unspoken promises lingering in the air. Each heartbeat echoed their desire, a silent affirmation of the bond they were forging, unbreakable and beautiful in its simplicity.

“Hi.” Buggy said quietly. 

“Hi.” Catherine laughed. “I thought you were tired."

“I don't know,” Buggy shrugged, “You've got me confused with someone else.”

Their eyes locked with a smoldering intensity as Buggy lowered his head, his lips capturing hers in a deep, passionate kiss. The initial tenderness quickly gave way to a more urgent, primal need as his kisses trailed down the delicate column of her neck, eliciting a soft gasp that only fueled his desire. With a sense of growing impatience, Buggy hastily shed his jeans, Catherine’s pyjama pants soon joining them on the floor, leaving nothing to impede their heated union. In one fluid motion, Buggy pressed his hips forward, a groan of pleasure escaping him as he felt himself enveloped by her warm, welcoming embrace. 

“Welcome home, little Buggy!” Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck, narrowing her eyes playfully. 

“Hey! He's not little!” 

“Oh, I knew you'd latch onto those words, blue-haired pervert!” Catherine bit his bottom lip. 

“Say that again and I'll leave him in you, red-haired bitch! And we will check if it's a little Buggy or not!” 

“You won't dare!” Catherine squinted her eyes.

“Do you really want to check?” Buggy shrugged. 

“Seriously? You've been gone for a week. Are you going to fu—” Catherine didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence, because Buggy smashed his lips into hers, started moving his hips. 

“I hate you!” Catherine moaned near his lips. 

“Oh, I'll survive this somehow” 

Their bodies moved together, every touch and caress stoking the flames of their building ecstasy until they were both consumed by the all-consuming fire of their shared passion.

Buggy strained with the effort, every muscle taut as he fought to maintain his control, but the primal urges coursing through him were becoming increasingly difficult to resist. Catherine's nails raked down his back, eliciting a guttural groan as the dual sensations of pleasure and pain threatened to shatter his willpower. Their bodies moved in perfect synchronization, hips undulating in a timeless rhythm as their passion built to a fever pitch. 

“I missed you so much!” Catherine whispered, her lips found Buggy's neck, hot and insistent, punctuating each urgent thrust with a needy moan that sent electric jolts of desire straight to his core. They both lost in a haze of sweat-slicked skin and ragged breaths, teetering on the precipice of release. 

“Damn, Cathie-pie, it was so hard to be far away from you.” Buggy groaned, pressing her body closer to him, picking up his pace. 

In the heat of the moment, the rhythm of their connection echoing the emotions that pulsed between them. 

"So good to feel you," Buggy murmured, the urgency in his voice palpable as he started thrusting deeper, igniting a fire within Catherine that she had longed to feel. Each movement was a testament to their desire, every gasp a confirmation of the bond they shared. "I missed you. I love you," he breathed, the words tumbling from his lips like a long-awaited confession. 

“I know. Don't wor– ry. Love you… oh, fuck.. too.” Catherine felt a rush of emotion surge through her, his declarations intensifying the pleasure that enveloped them both. "Don't stop, please. I want you," she urged, her voice a mix of desperation and longing, begging for more as the intensity built higher. "Fuck me, please," Catherine pleaded, her heart racing, the warmth of his skin against hers amplifying every sensation. 

Each thrust, each whisper, drew them closer, intertwining their souls in a dance of love and yearning that seemed to transcend time. One final, forceful thrust, and then another, and the wave of ecstasy crashed over them, washing away all coherent thought as they surrendered to the primal bliss of their shared climax.

As Buggy tumbled down, his full weight pressing against Catherine, he instinctively buried his face in the soft curve of her neck. The familiar scent of her skin and hair enveloped him, comforting and familiar. Catherine responded by wrapping her arms around him, pulling him in closer until there was no space left between them. In that moment, all the tension and uncertainty melted away, replaced by a sense of profound belonging. It was as if every part of Buggy that had been searching and longing had finally found its match, its missing piece. Catherine's embrace encompassed him completely, shielding Buggy from the outside world and making him feel utterly at home. There, with his face nuzzled against her neck and her heartbeat pulsing steadily against his own, he was exactly where he was meant to be - safe, secure, and perfectly content. All the worries and fears that had been weighing him down seemed to dissipate, leaving behind only the warm, encompassing sensation of being held by the one person who made him feel truly whole.

“You okay?” Catherine asked quietly.

Buggy nodded, rolling over onto his back with a heavy sigh, and immediately pulled Catherine close. 

She curled up and pulled the blanket tighter around them both. “So happy you're home.” 

"What? Missing your sex god?" Buggy said with a proud laugh. 

"Why do you always ruin romantic moments, jerk?” Catherine slapped him gently. “And by the way, put on your pants!” 

“But why? Should we continue?" 

"No! How do you do this? You came home and bam! You've undressed me." Catherine barely reached her pants, pulled them up and looked at Buggy's neck. “Damn! You have to tie your circus scarf on." Catherine giggled, running her finger down his neck. "I overdid it a little.”

“My Cathie-pie is a naughty girl.” Buggy ruffled her hair. 

“It's your fault, clown!” Catherine brushed his hand away. “Pants, please!” 

“Fine!” Buggy’s hand brought his pants and he reluctantly pulled on his pajamas. “So?” He pulled Catherine close again, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Do we have plans for tomorrow? Want to go on your stupid walk?" 

“Really?!” She rounded her eyes in surprise. “I want! I really want!! I love walking with you, holding your hand, and watching everyone envy me because I have the coolest man in the world!"

Buggy kissed her head. “Cathie-pie..”

“What, my Buggy Bear?”

“I’m hungry. Can you make me pancakes?” 

“Sure! But for me to make you pancakes, you need to do one thing.” 

“Which one?”

“Stop grabbing my ass!” 

[lostfirefly]

OMG!!!! Thank thank you, my dear!

(squealing and kicking my legs)

Quick sketch for @lostfirefly to boost her mood!

Catherine and Buggy from her Birthday fic🖤✨

[deansapplepie]

Use me as you Wish

Summary: Catherine Greene’s life was upside down and Daryl’s hopes were shattered in a million pieces. They found some solace in each other that night.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Catherine Greene (OC)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mentions about death, mentions of putting people down, mentions of sickness, smut, sex, unprotected p in v, cum eating (?), vulnerability, Cath is 30 yo. Slightly proof read, so may contain mistakes. Minors do not interact, 18+.

A/N: there’s been years I don’t write and OC and I don’t write in first person, so I’m somehow excited about it and anxious too. I wanted to create an OC again and I had this wish of writing a Greene character different from the ones I usually see on the stories and how I actually think would be a Hershel daughter in a relationship with Daryl and also how I think Hershel would have reacted. No Hershel here, but here is my Greene OC on this first piece of story. Also, nothing against other Greene readers or OCs I saw around, I just wanted to do mine.

I didn’t want this first story to be smut, but it looks like everything I touch becomes smut. 😅

I never believed the dead people walking around were actually sick, I saw sick people before. I saw my stepmom and step brother getting sick and eventually dying. Those were not them anymore but they looked like them and because of that I didn’t do anything when my dad locked them in the old barn. What could I do? We had no information about anything anymore so I just trusted whatever my father believe, who could be wiser than him at the moment? Later I learned the dead people should be put ‘dead’ again, but I would never have it in me to do that to ‘them’. I also didn’t do anything as he continued to lock neighbors and other ones that were found wandering around the farm. I couldn’t kill a chicken, would I ever be able to kill one of those creatures? I didn’t know how to shoot, I also didn’t know how to stab. Once, my dad tried to teach me how to kill a pig, I missed the heart and just put the poor thing into more suffering.

All that being said, the mixed feelings I had, when the group that came from Atlanta opened the barn and shoot one after the other, the neighbors and my family, could be easily explained. Well, some people could understand that at the same time I felt relieved they were put to rest and we didn’t had to worry with the danger, I also felt sorrow because if there was any hope they could be cured or brought back, it didn’t exist anymore.

After that so many things happened and I didn’t know exactly how but I remember one minute I was in the kitchen and the next I was standing in the middle of his camp a recipient with dinner in my hand, offering peace, maybe? Since they arrived I couldn’t take my eyes from him and he would haunt my thoughts night and day, like a teenage girl with a crush, but the thing was… I was far from this.

The curiosity brought me closer to him, or as close as he would allow me. I tried to help as much as I could about the girl they were looking for, I brought to them the things my dad allowed us to share with them, I helped taking care of him when he got injured. So we would talk, he was witty, sassy and grumpy. He was masculine, rustic and handsome. I was bewitched by him, and he didn’t even know he could do this.

“Watcha doing here?” I was startled by his voice, lost in my thoughts in the middle of his camp which he had changed for a place farther than everyone’s.

“I brought you dinner, you didn’t join us.” I answered calmly although I sensed the bitter tone in his voice.

“What? Did ya expect me to join you after all that happened and play house?” He towered me, the moonlight iluminated his skin… he was so handsome, but also could be intimidating. I constantly felt intimidated, but there was just something to him that kept me going on.

“I… I never expected it, Daryl. Never wanted you to act as if nothing happened. I know how much effort you put on it.”

“Yeah… why did ya hid the fact the girl was there all that time? Why didn’t ya say anything about the barn?” By that time he knew none of us knew Sophia was there, but I got it. He was upset. He was upset with me, I never said anything about the barn. That was something I knew. Something I could have shared.

“I was scared, ok? My dad said to not tell a thing! Do you think I ever felt comfortable having them so close?” My voice tone got higher for the first time.

“Didn’t seem uncomfortable ta me.” His eyes burned into mine, eyes so gentle before seamed able to make a hole into my soul at any moment.

“I was! It was so difficult knowing my stepmother and stepbrother were there. I couldn’t do anything for them.” I still remembered the day we locked them there.

“Could’ve put an end on this for them.” It’s so easy to say it when you’re Daryl Dixon.

“Could I? You saw how I shoot, you saw how I hold a knife all kind of wrongs! Do you think I could have done that and survived?” Our chests were pretty much against each other and how we got this close is still a mystery to me.

I could listen to his breath, loud and raged. I felt his chest every time he breathed. His warm breath fanned over my face and his blue eyes that bored into my brown ones had something that I couldn’t read this time. Was it understanding? Defiance? There was something else in it. “Cath…” The nickname rolled easy from his tongue it was the first time he didn’t called me Catherine or any other silly nickname he decided to use.

“Yes?” I answered breathlessly, the air had been stolen from my lungs, my eyes glued to his face, descended to his lips, the same lips I had seen my name rolling from.

My lips were parted as if they seek for air, his eyes descended to them and in the next moment I understood that when my nickname left his lips, that was an alert, a warning. I wouldn’t listen to it anyways. His lips crashed against mine, fervent, urgent, a surprise I was willing to reciprocate. All those days feeling bothered, flustered… the attraction I felt for him finally having the upper hand.

When I hit my back against a tree, I noticed we had walked and now his body pressed me to it. The recipient with his food? I had no idea where I lost it. One of his hands laid on my waist while the other grabbed my thigh lifting my leg and pressing our centers together.

“Tell me ta stop… tell me…” His lips hovered mine, so close but stopping the kiss completely.

“Daryl… use me.” The words I never expected saying left my lips. “Do everything you want, use me as you wish…” I murmured feverishly, I would be lying if I said he was the only one that was going to use someone. I was also using him, at that moment I just wanted to forget. Forget everything that happened earlier, forget my dad had disappeared, forget the state Beth was in the moment and to begin with… forget how angry he was at me when that conversation began.

He crashed his lips against mine again, my back pressioned against the tree. My legs locked around his waist and his fingers burried in the flash of my thighs, his hands were warn against my skin my dress skirt rising up. I put my arms around his neck and my finger locked around his short hair.

We stopped the kiss, gasping for air, but not for too long. He walked with me on his arms taking me to his tent and laying on the cot, not very delicately I must say, but at that moment I didn’t mind. I needed him. Fast. Raw. Primal.

I kicked my boots the faster I could. He took off my dress urgently, his eyes popping when he noticed I didn’t wear a bra. I sensed he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He immediately mouthed one of my breasts, nibbling it and swirling his tongue around the erected nipple, I caressed the back of his head pressing his face more against me. “Oh, Daryl…” I moaned, as he bit my skin harshly. That would definitely leave a mark, thankfully a hidden one. He changed his attention to the other one, it was delicious.

When I said he could use me, I thought he would do it, think only about him, but here he was making me feel so good. Maybe, he needed this and I had told him to use me as he wished, hadn’t I?

I heard the noise of his belt being unbuckled and excitement rushed through me. His mouth left my skin and before I had the chance of doing anything, or taking a peak at his hard cock, he got me in a sitting position. He was on his knees, sitting on his legs, and me? Well, he lifted me to sit on him, his hand descended to my clothed pussy, the anticipation consuming me… He put my panties aside and positioned his cock with my entrance going all the way in in just one swift movement. A loud cry left my lips while he groaned, almost painfully.

“Ya okay?” He asked, talking for the first time since we started.

“Yeah, just keep going. I need this, we need this.” I was so full all at once that it felt a little overwhelming but that’s how it was supposed to be. That’s what I wanted to feel.

He helped moving me up and down on him, he trusting his hips against mine. My lips encountered his one more time, I could never get enough of it. Our kiss muffled his groans and my moans, his hand grabbed firmly on my waist and thigh, his fingers imprinting on my soul.

His mouth descended to my jaw, my neck and went back to my breasts where he got back to his earlier work. Definitely a tits man, or maybe just a man that knew how to appreciate a women’s body because the way he grabbed my thighs and ass… I continued pressing his face against my skin, my hand on his nape locked on his short hair while our hips moved frantically against each other making the most sinful sounds.

I was close, that coil was building in my lower stomach and my walls contracted around him. “Daryl… I’m close…” I felt it could be at any moment.

“Come on, kitten. Let it go… cum fer me.” He said by my ear when he raised his face.

I crumbled in one big electrifying wave, my hips moving aimlessly, my head thrown back as my body convulsed against his. His voice muffled by my excited brain that couldn’t focus on anything but pleasure. His cock twitched inside me and that moment as a device I clicked back to reality as he lifted my body and hot spurts of his spending painted our torsos. That was probably the hottest thing I ever saw.

When he seamed that be back at his senses, he looked at my body taking in the mess we had done, and as ‘mess’ it could have many different interpretations. What was he thinking about? It was so difficult to know, till he moved and his hand made it’s way up my body ‘cleaning’ the cum he had let printed on me, just shove 2 fingers inside my mouth… which I cleaned, no questioning, just savoring the salty flavor of his seed mixed with our sweats. I just accept whatever he wanted from me, I told him to use me. Didn’t I?

He took a rag from somewhere inside his tent and cleaned our bodies, silent, no words and no harshness. Very delicate if compared to the way he manhandled me to whatever he wanted. When he finished putting my dress again and dressing his pants, I started to look for my boots and was stopped by him.

“Stay.” He said, freezing me in place. Again he surprised me, I never expected he would want me to stay. I never took him for a bad person or a man that would just throw away the women he conquered, but I new he had his boundaries and I wasn’t really expecting for that. He wanted comfort.

“Ok.” I answered and stopped looking for my boots and started looking for the place where we’d lay to sleep.

Daryl Dixon never stopped to amaze me.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Cathy Greene’s Taglist: @silentlysurffering98 @alyssaforevermore

Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325 @hayley1998 @vaniniweenie @cupidelocke @avabh12 @whore4romance @dixondystopia @dixons-sunshine @bigbaldheadname @negansbestie @gabriella-aesthetic @fluffy-dixon @lunajay33

[lapinlunaire-games]

i need to know about Catherine and rosalind PLEASE down bad for both of them 😭😭😭🙂‍↕️

HEHEHEHEHE my pleasure!!! Thank you Morgan ♡ from the OC greetings when hostile/friendly/romanced ask

Catherine

Hostile: *Catherine crosses her arms, mouth flat as she looks you over. She doesn't seem impressed with what she sees, to put it mildly.* "Look what the cat dragged in. Well? Say your piece before I have you thrown out."

Neutral: *Catherine offers you a polished, slightly tilted smile in greeting. She doesn't look particularly busy, but it still seems like she's taking valuable time to talk.* "Something interesting happen? Or did you just want to get another look?"

Friendly: *Catherine smiles as you approach, pausing as she adjusts her pearls. They seem warmer than you recall.* "Well, hello there. What brings you to see little old me?"

Romanced: *There's a sparkle in Cat's eye as she watches you approach. Their coat is open, swaying around her frame as they idly wrap a strand of pearls around one finger.* "Welcome back, vita mia. You look like you've missed me - however shall we remedy it? I have a few ideas, if you're lacking."

Rosalind

Hostile: *The air grows frigid, bitter and piercing in your very bones. Rosalind towers over you, face stony.* "What do you want? Just because I have the time doesn't mean I'm going to waste it on you."

Neutral: *Rosalind's smile is so cheery it's almost enough to negate the strange chill surrounding her. She seems pleasantly surprised to see you.* "Hello! Did you need something?"

Friendly: *Rosalind's form flickers as she adjusts herself to match your height, drawing close but careful not to chill you overmuch.* "There you are! What's been happening out there?"

Romanced: *Rosalind gently brushes her fingertips over your knuckles. Even this brief touch is enough to make you shiver despite the warmth of her smile and her lingering gaze.* "I'm glad you're back. The halls are lonely without you. How can I help, my sweet?"

[terminal-doll-theatre]

Arts a lil old but I have um some guys for you,, i hope u enjoy,,,,,

i originally wanted to finish my jordan design + my design for the initiate robe + maybe the choir robe so I could post it all together but that would have meant not being able to talk about these fuckers as much so... yeah.

I'm not 100% on how Catherine came out but I can work on her,,, ANYWAY- MY CLERGY CREEPS

Lawrence the Archivist and Catherine the Exorcist!!!! Info about them under the cut

I do a lot of stuff at the temple with my OCs, so I figured it'd be fun to start making a couple FREAKS to inhabit that place with, so I have more personalised horrors to subject lil guys to... ALSO because it's fun to just write an absolute piece of shit. That too.

Lawrence's deal is that on the surface, he's a kind person that you are Safe around. Initiates like him, he sometimes does some tutoring when he's not busy with his other work, he'll even help initiates out of Sticky Situations with other members of the temple! He's a nice, sleepy man that looks after scrolls and books! However, under that, he is just as disgusting as most of the others. He just targets people he considers too oblivious/pure/otherwise innocent to Realise what he's doing (I think gameplay-wise as an NPC, he'd target players with high purity or low awareness) ,,, BASICALLY he's a pathetic little man that needs so so so badly to be liked, so he doesn't want to be caught, but. Not badly enough to just not molest people.

Catherine meanwhile is Openly Terrifying! Her job basically involves various forms of purification, including Exorcisms and Punishing People Who Break Their Vows. Also looking after the temple-sanctioned weaponry. I think people avoid her, because she's kind of giving off constant bad vibes lmao. Thinks a lil highly of herself. She is Pure and Moral and Better Than Other People. She is also stubborn in this belief! So when she starts having lustful thoughts about people, obviously she can't be to blame for that! It just means whoever that is, they are Evil and Tempting Her! Better vent her sadistic tendencies onto them about it. Weirdly, when she does snap and do a rape and get what she actually wants though, she tends to change her tune and start babbling weird praise at her victim out of seemingly nowhere. Essentially, she is SOOOO gross and pathetic. I think as an in-game NPC, she'd react to your allure, but she'd have different flavour text depending on your Grace and Purity. Also might torture some demons...

[cr33pz-mck3nna]

Some facts about my creepypasta au/rewrites

MONSTERS

(^the name of the au, this is my main au, I have many ocs in this au, if you wish to hear about them just consider supporting by liking, commenting, following, reblogging or just submitting a request and feel free to comment or request a vers for my ocs)

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, mvrder, sewerslide, abvse, assault, substance use/abvse, Offenderman-

Characters this is about: Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, Homicidal Liu, Jane the Killer, Nina the Killer, Laughing Jack, Slenderman

READ IF YOU DARE!

• Jeff and Liu's full names are Jeffrey Warren Roberts and Liu Michael Roberts and they are half brothers with different mothers, they also have a baby sister(also a different mother) named Amber-Rose, and they had a happy life before moving next door to the Meeks family and Cargile family

• Jane and Nina Cargile are twin sisters from Louisiana, they have a younger brother Christopher Cargile who went missing after the infamous JTK(Jeff the Killer) incident, Nina was Jeff's girlfriend

• Jane married a woman in college named Catherine Mary(to pay homage to canon Jane's wife) Harkness who changed her last name to Cargile, Catherine's apartment caught fire shortly after receiving a letter from Jane and attempting to send multiple to Nina

• Slenderman has an adopted ghost son named Lucid(shapeshifter) who manipulates people through dreams and thoughts, Slender is a good entity(atleast he tries), Lucid is the one who gives him a bad rep, but Slender has more children too such as Sally and his three somehow biological(?) humanoid children Vixen, Vivianna and Snow

• Laughing Jack(prns He/They/It) is made up of parts and pieces of the souls of many dead children and teenagers, some entities such as Slenderwoman refer to him as "The puppet of Artemis", he was created by the gods to be a protector of human children but Zalgoid corruption switched his "programming"

• Eyeless Jack's real name is Jackson Nelson but start praying if you call him anything other than E.J. or mention his twin, Jamison or Jamie as they call him, the perfect child of course..

• After the JTK incident Jane and Nina never truly got better, Nina all but lost her mind and Jane became an addict who eventually all but gambled away her soul and was found by Lucid who gives her dreams about Jeff's location with false pictures of her brother with him to manipulate her and keep her chasing him

• Slenderman(prns They/He) was a being who did not know how he came to exist but just knows he woke up one day and they were themself(Jack Frost ROTG style-), he has always loved human children and admired humans like a curious puppy but they haven't always been kind to him, he has no knowledge of the other Slenders but they know about him(Offenderman likes to pretend to be them, making humans fear him even more)

• E.J., Liu and Nina bonded when they all met over the fact they have all tried to "slide the sewer" before, they wear matching safety pins that Nina made them

• After both Nina and Jane eventually met Slender and went to the mansion, Jeff and Liu already having been there for awhile, it was a combined effort of Slenderman, E.J., Slenderwoman, Clockwork and Nurse Ann but eventually Nina and a very reluctant Jane forgave Jeff

• Laughing Jack has a sheer hatred for and MASSIVE beef with BEN, he looks just a bit too much like Isaac for his liking and BEN knows that his appearance has an effect on him and uses that to torment him

• Slender is possibly the biggest LGBTQIA+ supporter out of all the crps, in their mind "Why would you not like and support them? They're still a person." and he's literally the epitome of all lives matter, he does not like killing and like the Slender is the games he only kills when provoked or someone is on his territory and won't leave, as I said Lucid is the bad one

SORRY IF THIS WAS SHORT, I JUST TRIED TO THINK OF AS MUCH AS I COULD RN BUT I'VE BEEN SOOO BUSY CHRISTMAS DECORATING 😭 Hope y'all enjoyed, peace out gremlins! -Creepz