#holly/ofc

[alphacrone]

7 + Holly and her mysterious girlfriend!

7. visiting them at their place of work

“This is it?”

Michelle frowned up at the house. Holly held back her laughter. 

“What were you expecting?” She asked as they ascended the steps. Michelle shrugged. 

“I dunno,” she said. “I think I just assumed it would be on fire.” 

“Well, not today,” Holly said, opening the front door. “Not yet, anyway.” 

When Holly had first moved in with Michelle, before they’d even fallen in love and were simply, truly roommates, Michelle had been suspicious of her employers. Working at DEPRAC meant she’d heard all about the infamous Lockwood & Co. and their flagrant disregard for the rules or safety in general. But Holly had spoken of them with detached politeness and professionalism, only occasionally slipping to complain about Lockwood’s reckless behavior or Lucy’s snide attitude, so Michelle had assumed the child-run agency had calmed down in its antics.

Then Holly had come home black-and-blue and thoroughly shaken from a poltergeist gone wrong, and Michelle had nearly stormed across town to fight- well, she wasn’t sure whom she planned on fighting, but it might have been every member of that blasted agency. 

The following year had been a whirlwind of dangerous jobs and emotions running wild. In that time, between revealing conspiracies and battling the forces of evil, Holly had found the time to kiss Michelle, and also drive her insane with worry. 

Things were settled down now and Lockwood & Co. were the most famous agency in the world. Which was why finally—finally—-Holly had invited her to visit and meet her coworkers. 

As soon as they entered the house that served as the living space and headquarters of the agency, Michelle was met with screaming. “Cubbins, I’m going to skin you alive!” A thin, freckled man was shouting up the stairs, brandishing a crutch like a club. 

“You’ll have to catch me first!” A boy’s voice came down from the upper level. Michelle turned to her girlfriend in concern, but Holly seemed nonplussed. 

“What happened this time, Quill?” She asked the young man. He turned to her and rolled his eyes. 

“He used my jacket to mop up one of his experiments. It’s designer,” he huffed. “Who’s this?” 

“This is Michelle,” Holly said, placing a hand delicately on Michelle’s arm. “My girlfriend.” 

“Ah, of course.” The man gave her an approximation of a charming smile and stretched out his hand. “Quill Kipps.” 

“Nice to…meet you,” Michelle said slowly, glancing up the stairs, then back at Quill. 

“Kipps!” Another boy barged in from a room down the hall, waving a newspaper in his hand. “Have you read this Rotwell piece? It’s an absolute load of rubbish, trying to paint Steve Rotwell as some sort of saint when we all know-”

“Lockwood,” Holly said, gentle but firm in her tone. “This is Michelle.” 

The boy immediately smiled, wide and blinding. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Lang,” he said, sounding older than his appearance suggested. “I’m Anthony Lockwood, owner of this agency.”

“Hi…” Michelle couldn’t help but notice how young he was, especially next to Quill and herself. 

“Shit!” The boy from upstairs came running down, a silverglass box in his hands. “Lockwood, this one’s cracked!” 

“I told you not to put it in the bath, George!” Lockwood shouted back at him. “Have you met Holly’s girlfriend, Michelle?” 

“Hello!” George shouted at her as he ran past. “No time to talk! This source is strong, even in daylight!” He stumbled past Lockwood and Quill down the hall. Quill followed, grabbing a rapier from the umbrella stand. 

“Aren’t you going to help him?” Holly asked, hands on her hips. Lockwood shrugged and smiled. 

“Nah, it’ll teach him to be more careful with expensive items,” he said casually, as if there wasn’t an unsecured source being carried through his house. Michelle’s blood pressure rose. “Can I offer you any tea?” 

“Sure, but I’ll make it,” Holly said, taking Michelle’s hand and following Lockwood down the hall. They entered a cramped, messy kitchen that smelled of burnt toast. Holly and Lockwood worked in seamless tandem to put on the kettle and pull out mugs and tea bags. Michelle watched the way Holly danced around her employer, skirt twirling, every movement practiced and perfected. In the yellow morning light that filtered through the east-facing windows, Holly glowed, warm and soft and content in her odd life at this agency. 

“What was all that screaming about?” A girl appeared in the doorway, toweling off her short hair. Holly turned to beam at her, bright and wide and lovely, and Michelle’s stomach made a funny little twist. 

“Oh, George broke another silverglass box,” she told the girl, motioning to Lockwood to pull down one more mug. “Tea, Lucy?” 

“Thanks.” The girl—Lucy—stepped further into the room and immediately noticed Michelle, who’d been standing off to the side a bit awkwardly. “Oh, uh. Hi?” 

Michelle stuck out her hand, eyeing Lucy up and down. She was short and stocky, with bright eyes and a heart-shaped face. Pretty when you looked at her long enough, but with something mysterious hidden beneath the surface. Somehow, she felt threatened. “I’m Michelle, Holly’s girlfriend.” 

Lucy shook her hand, her grip strong and calloused. “Lucy. Didn’t realize you were coming by today.” 

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Holly said as she took the kettle off the stove. “If I told you, you’d all be on your best behavior, and I wanted-”

“-her to see what you put up with?” Lucy guessed with a wry grin. “Good call. This place is a nightmare.” 

“Hey!” Lockwood protested, though the smile hadn’t left his face. “It’s the most respected nightmare in London, I’ll have you know.” 

Lucy looked over at Michelle and subtly shook her head. Despite herself, Michelle laughed. 

They were quickly joined by George and Quill, who had successfully recontained the source after a disastrous couple minutes in which Quill had knocked over a different source and let it loose. Holly and Lockwood served the tea and a plate of biscuits, and Lucy and Quill got into some fight over a mug with a Satchell’s logo on it, and George started telling no one—or everyone—about a lecture he was attending, and Michelle was content to just sit back and soak it all in. 

Holly sat down next to her, tea in hand, and Michelle leaned over to murmur in her ear. “I get it now,” she said. “Why you love this place. Why you love them.” 

Holly smiled at her and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. Everything this woman did took Michelle’s breath away, and that single kiss had her gasping for air. “They’re my family. Just like you.” 

Despite the onlookers, Michelle leaned back in for a proper kiss, cupping Holly’s face in her hands. Someone wolf-whistled. Someone gagged. Someone else laughed. George didn’t pause his monologue. 

“Just because of that,” she told Holly softly. “I won’t report those idiots over there to Barnes for improper containment procedures.” 

Holly laughed and rested her head on Michelle’s shoulder.

[wb-hollowstorm]

more design doodles (pt 2, might make a part 3 later)

click for better quality ^^

[squarecloud73]

*I worship you Tumblr please don’t remove it

[annamatix]

love when people fight over the dark broody characters like hell yeah u go girl lemme just sneak out with my comedians rq tho

[clockworkbee]

When he thinks about her (and about kissing her) embarrassingly often!!!

[lostloveletters]

Damn Yankees (Bucky Egan x OFC)

Summary: The Great American Pastime puts Sergeant Holly Dean and Major Bucky Egan’s friendship to the test when her struggling Nationals play yet another game against his beloved Yankees.

Note: I introduce you to Miss Thing herself. By the way, the Yankees and the Nationals (also interchangeably referred to as The Senators back then) played 8 or so games against each other in mid-to-late June 1943, which I don’t think is a point of accuracy anyone cares that much about. Anyway, do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Inevitable historical and technical inaccuracies. Internalized thoughts about death and loss. Holly and Bucky are extremely annoying about baseball so if that’s not your thing…

Holly didn’t flinch when the door to the Air Exec office abruptly opened, and she didn’t have to look up from her typewriter to see who pulled up a chair in front of her desk and made himself comfortable.

“Morning, Bucky,” she said.

“It’s a good morning to be a Yankees fan, Holly.”

The first time Major John Egan walked through the office door, restlessness radiated off of him. Holly didn’t understand why he was assigned to Air Exec in the first place. He didn’t seem to either, but he gravitated toward her, initially amazed at how quickly she could type. When the novelty of that wore off, her feverish devotion to the Washington Nationals made him hang around anyway. 

“You’re not even from New York."

“Sure, but who doesn’t love a team that wins?”

She bristled at his gloating. “Being a Nats fan builds character.”

“You know what they say about Washington, first in war, first in peace, and last in the American League.” 

“We’re second this year,” she reminded him. 

Mostly because all of the good baseball players enlisted, including Bucky’s hero Joltin’ Joe DiMaggio, who had enlisted the USAAF earlier that spring. Bucky hoped he’d get assigned to Thorpe Abbotts at some point. Holly figured he’d stay stateside as a fitness instructor.

“Behind the Yankees,” he said.

“We’ll see after tonight’s game.”

“We’ve been wiping the floor with you.”

She scoffed. “Wiping the floor? It’s been pretty even wins.”

“You tell yourself that.”

“Well, we’re gonna win tonight.”

“Wanna bet?” he asked.

The incessant clicking from her typewriter stopped as she lifted her gaze to him. “When the Nationals win tonight, you have to do all of my filing tomorrow.”

“Alright.” He rapped his knuckles against the top of her desk as he considered his wager. “When the Yankees win tonight, you’ll do as much of my paperwork as I can get away with giving you tomorrow.”

Holly stuck out her hand. “Deal.”

Bucky gave it a firm shake. “Looking forward to my day off.”

“I’ll bring a radio to the hardstand tonight. Woody’s gonna be working late on Brady’s fort, so you can eat your words when no one else is around.”

“More like you’ll want Woody to tell you a joke to cheer you up when the Nationals lose again.”

Easy-going Woody was the perfect chaperone. Otherwise unnecessary, considering Holly and Bucky were both adults, but Holly quickly learned that just about everyone at Thorpe Abbotts had an opinion as to what constituted acceptable behavior between a man and a woman. She already had enough people talking about her, anyway.

Colonel Huglin approached, making a beeline for Bucky.

Holly resumed her typing without missing a beat, keys clicking along with the others in the room. “Good morning, Colonel,” Holly greeted.

“Good morning, Sergeant Dean,” he said, kindly enough. “Major Egan, I need to speak with you in my office.”

“‘Course, Colonel.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Major,” Holly said.

Bucky smiled, giving her a nod. “Sure will, Sarge.”

The game was technically at one in the afternoon on the East Coast, but the time difference made it a night game for those listening across the ocean. Unless Bucky got held up by Huglin, she knew he’d be there. He practically had the Yankees’ schedule memorized. 

——

The summer sun wasn’t close to setting by the time the game crept up and Holly made her way to the hardstand. She kept the portable radio tucked securely under her arm while she walked. Silently prayed she wouldn’t somehow trip on the way and smash the radio to pieces just because she wanted to listen to a baseball game.

Woody waved at her in the distance, arm sweeping excitedly through the air. 

“I haven’t seen you all day!” Holly shouted.

“Too long to go without seeing the likes of you!” Woody yelled back.

Woody, of course, being Private Kate Woodward, part of Ken Lemmons’ ground crew and her best friend on base, probably in general, the more she thought about it. Blonde hair in twin braids, green eyes that glistened with determination, grease smudged on her face, and a wrench in hand, Woody was practically the poster girl for the fearless wartime woman, in Holly’s biased opinion.

“What brings you to my humble hardstand?”

“Bucky and I are gonna listen to the Nationals-Yankees game. He has to do my filing tomorrow if the Nats win,” Holly said. 

Woody laughed. “Good luck.” She scratched her forehead, marking her face with another streak of grease. “Just so you know, Brady might be coming out here later.”

“Checking on his fort?”

“I think he doesn’t trust me or something. He’s been coming around almost every day to see how the repairs are going,” Woody said. “I’m certainly not complaining about his company, though.”

“I’m sure.”

“Maybe one of these days he’ll give me a personal tour of his cockpit.”

Holly choked out a laugh, covering her mouth with her free hand. “Woody!”

“Get your head out of the gutter. I’m strictly talking planes here.” Woody grinned. “Your Yankee’s pulling up.”

Bucky parked the jeep next to the women, raising an eyebrow at Holly’s attempts to stifle her giggles. She handed him the radio as she climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hey Woody, how’s it going?” Bucky asked.

“It’s going, Major.”

He nodded toward the plane in question. “Everything coming along okay?”

“Just like Kenny said, it looks a lot worse than it is. It’ll be back in the air in no time.”

“Wouldn’t expect any less from you guys.”

She shook her head, an amused smile on her face. “I oughta get back to it. You have fun doing Holly’s filing tomorrow.”

“Hey, I thought we were friends!” Bucky shouted as Woody jogged away, leaving them to listen to the game. 

Holly took the radio from Bucky, setting it on her lap. “I’ve used this one before,” she said. “It should pick up the station well enough.”

“How’d you get that out here?”

“Said it was your orders.” She smiled, tuning the radio until the boisterous announcer’s voice emerged from the speaker and nearly drowned out Bucky’s laughter. 

“It’s a beautiful afternoon here in the nation’s capital folks! We’ve got the New York Yankees in DC up against the Nationals at Griffith Stadium. Now, the Nats have been down the past two games, but we’re hoping they’ll be able to rally this time around—”

“Is Early the starting catcher?”

“Yeah, pretty sure he is.”

“There’s a National I like.”

“‘Cause he’s the only person who might be chattier than you.”

“It’s one hell of a distraction strategy.”

“You’d know,” she joked, lightly elbowing him in the side.

Jake Early was one of Holly’s favorite players on the Nationals. Not a great hitter, but one hell of a catcher who took to imitating radio announcers and auctioneers or even singing to throw off opposing batters. It was one of the highlights of watching a Nats game in person, in her opinion.

“Have you ever been to a Yankees game?” she asked.

He nodded. “A couple. Listening on the radio is one thing, but seeing them in action? I felt like I got struck by lightning. How about you?”

“I went to a few Nats games every season growing up, but Stan and I went on a lot of dates to home games. One time he nearly broke his hand catching a ball that got hit into our section.”

Bucky shook his head. “What a souvenir, though.”

He knew about Stan. Everyone did. Bucky had the sense to not walk on eggshells if she brought him up. Holly had taken the news better than most people expected. She and Stan had a long discussion about it before he shipped out. Allowed herself to cry at night for a week or so afterward, but pulled herself together and pushed forward. At least, she tried to.

Every now and then, her sailor’s bloated corpse would inevitably be dredged up for curious newcomers to Thorpe Abbotts. Her ears rang with the whispers, always some variation of, ‘Her fiance—Navy, I think—yeah, at Midway—I know—poor girl.’ Stanley Conway’s ghost did little more than serve as an explanation to strangers as to why his former fiance could be…weird was the nicest way someone put it, though a plethora of less than complimentary adjectives had been applied to her and her odd behavior over the past year.

But Bucky liked her. Hung around her even when he wasn’t working in the office. Sometimes her melancholy made him do more of the heavy lifting conversationally. If he minded, he never told her. His friendship made it tough for her to remember to refer to him as Major Egan and not just Bucky, sometimes. Stan would be proud of this Holly, though, the one who made stupid bets on baseball games with an officer. 

Bucky took out his flask, taking a swig before offering it to her. She regretted how quickly she accepted, her throat burning as she shoved it back in his hands.

“What is that?” she hissed.

“Whiskey.”

“That’s not whiskey.” She coughed. “You could put that in the gas tank and drive into town with it.”

“You’ve got the taste of a sailor, that’s what the issue here is. Should’ve joined the WAVES if you wanted rum.”

“I was going to. Stan said he didn’t think it’d be a good idea for us to be in the same branch and all that,” she said. “I kinda wish I had. The Service League is almost better than the Majors right now, especially the Navy league since they got Ted Williams.”

He balked. “You sound just like Crank! And DiMaggio’s in the Army league—he’s one of us!”

“So what? If it’s about who’s the best, Crank’s got a point, Williams can bat 400 no sweat.”

“DiMaggio did during his ‘41 streak.”

“Yeah, during his streak. Williams ended the whole ‘41 season with 406.”

“I was gonna be nice and drive you back after the Nats lose. You can walk, toots,” he half-joked.

“Woody can drive me,” she said, turning to glance behind her. Between the dusk and distance, she couldn’t tell if Brady had made his way out there yet. “I’m staying out here with her, anyway.”

“Want me to hang around?”

“If you want.”

“I’m asking what you want.”

She hummed, slouching back in her seat, a far away expression on her face. “I want the Nats to win.”

Bucky slouched against her, shoulder-to-shoulder. Glanced between her face and the radio a few times, hoping the Nationals would pull off something big for her.

He didn’t pry for details. Wasn’t quite sure how to ask her about it. Part of him was too afraid to know. He was afraid of a lot of things he’d never admit, but the place Holly drifted off to terrified him. So he took it upon himself to get her out of there. He talked about the game. And how he won the bicycles for Buck. And that he was just kidding when he said he wouldn’t drive her back to the womens’ barracks—couldn’t leave her and Woody out by themselves, after all.

Bucky didn't know how much time had passed before Holly finally spoke again.

���Sorry,” she mumbled.

He blinked. “For what?”

“You know.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I mean, the Yankees are down bad, and I’m having a ball,” he said. “So you’re apologizing for nothing, doll.” 

He felt like someone poured club soda over his brain when she smiled, brown eyes glimmering gold. His gaze fell to her lips, his tongue darting out between his own for a moment. His shadow fell over her like a blanket as he leaned closer.

“And it’s strike three, you’re out for the Yankees in the top of the ninth!” The announcer’s voice blared through the radio, nearly making him jump in his seat. “That’s the game folks! The Washington Nationals win on their home turf against the New York Yankees—“

“We won! Oh my god, we won!” Holly sat up, nearly knocking the radio off of her lap in her excitement. She landed a few playful punches on his arm. “Take that, Egan!”

He rolled his eyes, smiling nevertheless. “It’s a good thing the Nats don’t win more often, because you’re the sorest winner I’ve ever met.”

“You can dish it out, but you can’t take it. That’s what I’m hearing.”

“Hey, I’m a man of my word. I’ll do your filing tomorrow,” he said, bringing his flask to his lips. “Damn Yankees.”

[starrynightsxo]

name a ship so good they got together at the end but you were ruined by the events of what happened previously

I'll start: jude x cardan (the cruel prince)

npt: @viivdle @thejudeduarte @agirlwiththoughtsandnegativity @ant-thebooknerd @bookish-phile @cookieswithforksandknifes @cromulentreader @fantasyfangirling4ever @graaaaaayy @highladyofterrasen7 @his-littlefox @jesyverse @kenjik1shimoto @kazbrekkerbitespeopleandsodoi @motherfeyre-archeron @sweetvillainjude @starlightbooklove @thenightmareinyourcloset @veswe

[duarteegreenbriar]

I don’t know how I forgot to mention this, but during TSH’s signing, Holly had said “I tend to do the opposite of what people tell me”. So when it was my turn to get my book signed, I told her “Please never write TFOTA from Cardan’s POV and never give us more Cardan content in the future”, to which she responded by first just staring blankly at me and then she got it and cackled saying “We will see” 😭

[petratherrock]

QoN

I'd like to think that Jude is still quite protective of Cardan after QoN, because somewhere along the way her instinct is always looping back to protecting him; I'm guessing out of duty as his seneschal, her wanting to protect Cardan for Oak, and I suppose a mix of 'don't hurt this person i care about'ism.

Her first instinct, even after she had just returned to Elfhame after her exile (and her murderous desire to strangle Cardan) was still to protect him

[creaturefeaster]

Hey does tyvson or ganso have voice actors?? (Or had) If so I'd really like to hear their voice! (Also I love ur art)

TyV's voice actor is his original namesake, an old friend named Ty. While most characters at this point I feel have evolved to a degree where their voices have probably shifted away from their original casting, I don't think TyV's voice would ever change from his original actor. They're just too intertwined in my head!!! Unfortunately I do not have any clips of his voice to share u_u.

El Ganso does not have a voice actor, he was made far far after the original voice casting. Like, nearly a decade later lol.

It'd be fun one day to have voice actors for them all again. I think if that happened, it'd be fun to make short voice acted animations again.

[thejudeduarte]

Jude @ cardan at the end of twk:

Jude @ Vivi at the end of twk:

Cardan deciding what to right in his letters:

Jude @ cardan during the coronation:

[judesidepiece]

Idk what is going to happen in the Prisoner's Throne between Jurdan and Suren, but if they don't end up accepting her into their cute growing Duarte/Greenbriar found family, I think that would really be a shame because all things considered, Wren has so much to relate with both Jude ad Cardan on a personal level. Like they would vibe together, i just know it. They just need to give each other a chance :(

[heaven-said]

{{ loving how gabriel is the only one not to mention that female lucifer is hot because he is just so gay leaning it did not even cross his mind DSHGKDSHSD }}

[slverblood]

I haven’t even started the pt but I’m getting attached to this bhaalspawn. Might make then an NPC on here

[theghostofwilburtheworm]

Mmmh really strugling to pick which ocs i want in artfight

[clockworkbee]

It's really, very simple what I feel about Jude and Cardan. It's just such a long fucking journey with them in a series where they barely (truthfully) communicate with and comprehend one another. It's not just that they start off by hating one another, it's also that they're constantly drawn to one another. They go from being enemies to working together, which was basically just them really seeing each other. They don't know when they can trust the other, but they also learn that they get each other. They experience fear, pain, and betrayal at different times but also together. They experience loving each other without trust, but they also experience it with such a force that it is all that drives them when they've lost the other. In the end, everything just knits them back together better and stronger.

It's magnificent what all @hollyblack delivered in such a short series with each book being less than 400 pages.