#oc: lady frances

[lordeasriel]

Lady Frances Croft from my short story The Sleepwalker. (and the dark version from Jonathan's dreams)

"Lady Croft exuded some kind of unnatural plainliness. Jonathan knew that tactic well. Whisperers often resorted to such tactics when they needed to create dissent, or so he had been taught, but the truth lay there somewhere between the lines of good and evil. Most of them had an intense expression, something that showed they had seen things not meant for their eyes, and while nothing branded a Whisperer, that was one of the many signs they showed. The kind of power they wielded was not something to be taken lightly, either by them nor others.

He knew what she was, knew it before she could ever say it out loud, their eyes crossing on the alley and showing, with as much subterfuge as each of them could manage, their fear, though they hadn't recognised it on the other.

And ever since they had seen each other, she had been haunting him day and night. He knew no Whisperers who could control dreams and warp them into horrid nightmares, but she was there, often, looking eerily with white eyes and body covered in runes written out of blood. His memories of her flickered and shifted, up until he no longer recognised her except for the husk that followed him in his sleep. Hunted, more like. That creature was relentless and it had been there for a while, long before he even knew Lady Croft, so while it took her shape, he tried his best to believe that was not her. His imagination played terrible tricks, but part of him still felt the lingering presence of power on his current nightmares. How powerful could she be, anyway? Without her source of power, her altar, he would never be sure.

His mind wandered, knowing she was watching him from across the room, her very normal and plain self version. Well, she tried to look plain, but at the end of the day, it wasn't as easy as it seemed, and while he would never admit it, the real Lady Croft was far more unsettling than any monsters from his dreams.

He had been trying to find the altar for weeks but with no success. Mary hadn't shared and he had sneaked about but couldn't find it anywhere in the house. He had entertained the idea it might have been somewhere far from the house, perhaps in possession of the masked musicians whom she had defended so strongly, but the altars were so specific and had to represent stability. It had to be close enough to her, and the closest place was her home, but where would it be?

Unsure, he had made the decision to go back to the interrogation room. Through the fake mirror, he watched her while Lady Croft sat patiently, legs crossed, arms relaxed on the table. Her eyes were stuck in the mirror and he moved around only to see her following him despite the fact she could not see him. She could not even know he was there, but she knew, because she watched him like a predator waiting for its prey.

The whole experience gave him goosebumps and he knew that in order to face her, he would have to be in full control of his emotions. She hadn't moved her body ever since he entered the room, except her eyes following him, and that showed the immense resolve she possessed.

He knew he shouldn't have told Neill about her nature. He hadn't promised her anything but it had been implied that the fact she was a Whisperer had to be secretly guarded. Watching her so smug had annoyed him though, enough that he lost his mind if only for a second.

Across the mirror, her lips quivered for a second and Jonathan breathed out, moving out of the observation room to the one where she was.

He walked in, silent, and sat across her, this time taking the central chair. Leaning on his elbows, he studied her face with care and found that her smirk never really reached her eyes. This wasn't fun for her at all, he realised. What a stunning liar she was!

"This doesn't have to be hard, you know. I'm sure you killed Sir Roger for a very good reason."

"I didn't kill him."

"You don't have to hide from me. I know who you are, Lady Frances." He reached out to her hand and she scoffed, pulling away slowly.

"Who am I, then?" She drummed her fingers on the table. "You don't know me at all, Jonathan. If you did, you would have shown some respect. After everything, to tell the inspector—"

"He deserves to know the truth."

"The truth wasn't yours to tell and, no, he didn't have to learn about this. It has nothing to do with him." Jonathan noticed her hands shaking just slightly. There was the beginning of wrath in her voice, but she spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. "I am what I am for so many reasons you can't comprehend, Jonathan, and I trusted you the other night and told you some of my secrets because I wanted to believe you were different, but you disappointed me."

"You killed sir Roger because he found out you were a Whisperer, didn't you?"

Lady Croft smiled a knowing smirk and he felt the hairs on his neck rise. He had seen that smirk before, bloodied, as she clawed and fed on him like a beast. His dreams had been so real he felt everything in the strangest experience of his life, so he watched her now seeking comfort in the fact she was real, but somehow that only made him feel worse.

"Oh, Jonathan. You aren't even close to the truth." She clicked her tongue and leaned on the table, closing in the distance between them and he instinctively mimicked her gesture. "You see, I didn't kill Sir Roger, as I've told you many times. That night, at your home, I explained to you that I knew Sir Roger was Brotherhood, and that I was cautious around him.'

"Did he threaten you? Blackmailed you? Because he must have known you were a Whisperer."

"Why is his life more worthy of your pity than that of those the Brotherhood butchers?" She scoffed lightly. "I tried to trust you, Jonathan, I did my best to believe you were a good man, but you showed me that I was wrong to do that."

She lowered her voice even more now, to a point where he had to lean closer to her to listen. Perfume engulfed him and the little imperfections of her skin were more visible. There were wrinkles on her forehead and she seemed tired so up close.

"I should have known what kind of person you were. Mary will be even more disappointed, but I suppose one has to learn with life anyway."

"Don't bring her into this."

"Really? Because as far as I remember, you were the one who brought her into this. Toying with her feelings just to get her to turn on me, then betraying her and having her arrested, knowing that I would intervene."

"Sign your confession and this is over." He managed to say but she was doing a great job of tormenting him even from a position where she shouldn't have been able to do so. "None of this would be happening if you hadn't murdered an innocent man."

"Every Brotherhood man out there is dishonourable and a murderer but all you care about is to hound a Whisperer you happened to cross paths with." Lady Croft shook her head with disapproval and she seemed genuinely upset. "Judging me and tormenting me just because they told you all Whisperers are evil, but you are the true evil of this world, with your arrogance and your prejudice."

She rested on her chair, watching him closely.

"By telling the inspector who I am, you've done an immense harm to me and those around me, but I will do for you what you will never do for me, Jonathan. Troubled as you are, I'll let you keep your job by not telling the inspector what happened between us."

He swallowed hard, knowing what the implications of that meant. Not that he has thought about that then, but he should have, because as usual, consequences were coming hard at him.

"He wouldn't believe you. Neill may not fully think you guilty, but he trusts me."

"He trusts you now, because he knows who you used to be." She grinned unpleasantly. "The moment I say you and I were intimate, that is done for, especially now he knows I am a Whisperer. He will immediately distrust you and he will be forced to let you go."

"You assume too much. He understands I can resist the power."

Lady Croft's smile grew larger now. Her attitude resembled a hungry animal, ready to pounce.

"Can you, now?" She drummed her fingers on the table, resting against her chair with a smug attitude. Her eyes followed his movements closely, even his breathing, attentive to all details.

Doubt crept in, though Jonathan knew there were no reasons for that. The mark of the Brotherhood protected him, it had for many years, there was no reason to doubt it wouldn't now but her words rotted within his mind in a manner of seconds and fear showed itself through the cracks of his impassive nature.

[skretnica2]

oc introduction—diego marquez

football obsessed nepo baby.. he's argentinian but lived a long part of his life in england cus his dad was a successful pro footballer in the premier league back then, but is now retired from the game due to age. still he's a well known figure in the sport, living a few years in france after his retiring, his dad decided to move the whole family to the states and founded a club in the mls to maximize his profits. consequently, sending diego to bullworth academy thinking it was an elite school

diego is quite insolent and conceited, but not a bore to be around if you'd like to hear him talking nonstop. about football, flaunting his looks or boasting about his plans when his dad finally decides to send him to an european youth team and how he's gonna live so lavish when he reaches pro status. he likes gossip but won't ever admit it.. he's easy to talk to about anything overall, when he's not being a jerk that is. he's a ladies man in every sense, mainly because girls are easier to talk to

his biggest peeve is how americans call football soccer, doesn't make any sense

other jocks often tease him about how much he cares about his appearance, his complaining attitude and bad temper. he gets called girly a lot by juri, luis and dan, diego wants to destroy them with his mind. he will NOT take off his earrings or take steroids, he plays as striker hes supposed to be lean, not fat and buff like some gorilla

since he doesn't play for the american football team, he often tries to recruit people to form an official bullworth soccer team. makes banners for it and all, fails everytime

he speaks with a british accent and slang, his fav words are wanker, twat and bollocks

he speaks spanish, english, some french and portuguese

significantly less hostile than his clique mates, he dgaf and doesn't want to mess his handsome face up. he's got a loose tongue though, he doesn't know when to stop taunting until he runs into the wrong person

diego was supposed to go to another school, but his dad was involved in shady business such as money laundering, he got so paranoid about going to prison or losing his family that he accepted the first boarding school recommendation from one of his rich contacts and sent his son there

used to hang out a lot with bryce (their fathers had contact) but they strayed away when diego started hanging out with the jocks. other preps respect him for his status but they don't see him as classy enough, and the fact that his dad is a selfmade man

lurks around the football field, gym and bullworth town

clique relationship chart 😁😁

feel free to suggest interactions or whateva

if u saw me post this twice no u didnt

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

It felt so real.

What - Yearning. Daryl misses you and your family so badly that it seems his imagination is dreaming you up to keep him from going crazy

When - big time jump to when Daryl finds himself in France (spinoff season 1, episode 2)

Where - the school in France

Pronouns - she/her (howdy, wife reader!)

TWs - language, reference to child loss, self-loathing, sappiness (it's fanfiction, y'all XD ) and Daryl gets a little...'excited' (mild instance of sexual arousal between a married couple)

Perspective - Daryl 3rd person POV

References - some are yet unpublished because this is a significant time skip, which means a few little surprises. Others can be found throughout the series!

Series? - the Slowpoke Series! It's a fun, slow time that sticks to canon to help maintain immersion (as much as you can with adding an oc lol) ;)

Can I read this chapter if I haven't started any part of the Slowpoke Series yet? - definitely

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

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

“It's so good to hold you again, sugar.”

Those words, that voice, made him relax into the bed. She was there again! He’d last imagined her when he was being tended to by those nuns, so it was only, what, a handful of days ago?

Wasn’t enough for him, he missed her so much.

“Dare, I want them all. Full stop, every last one.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I knew you’d say that.”

“As if you aren’t wantin’ to take at least a handful. All those kids with just an old woman to care for them…well, now she’s dead, but…” She sighed and held him tighter. “Lou reminds me of Enid. Don’t you think they look similar? M’sorry her name had to be Lou. A lot of things over here are making you homesick, ain’t they? And that poor boy in Maine, named TJ, too.”

He pulled her closer, doing his best to not wake himself up so Y/N would stay with him. He wished that kid, with same name as his oldest, has just gone back to his girlfriend like he'd told him to.

“Our own Louise lights a candle with me for you every day. Those nuns would be proud.”

He swore to himself that whenever these dreams happen, there’s got to be some way it isn’t just all in his head. It was way too real.

It felt so, so real.

But that Louise was lighting candles for him, he knew because Carol told him when she spoke to him briefly over the radio in Maine...

“Did Carol also mention that Lydia’s been drawing you? Or did I write part that in the letter?”

“The letter. Carol and I didn't have much time to say anything.” Y/N wrote him a long, long letter. One part mentioned how both Lydia and Glenn took to getting nightmares again after he left. At Maggie’s suggestion, Lydia had been drawing his picture. Apparently it helps her feel safer.

RJ had been 'retreating more than usual,' also. Adam was acting out, too, so she wrote. If Daryl was figuring it right, the boys losing another father figure probably hadn’t helped.

“Dare, he’s three. Three-year-olds don’t only act out with foster parents, Adam would be doin’ the same with Alden. And RJ is without Michonne right now. That's the greater culprit.”

His wife also wrote how Coco just started calling her ‘mama,’ and correcting her to say ‘auntie’ wasn’t working yet. She chalked it up to her being a motherly figure and the baby assuming all caring ladies were ‘mama.’ He wondered if Gabe knew yet. Ain’t like Y/N hasn’t been a mama to that little girl since Rosita died. Actually, nah, Gabe obviously knew; Y/N would’ve (legit) run to him immediately and told him what was up.

The faces of all their kids ran through his mind over and over, Lydia and Judith and RJ included. Then his wife’s face. Carl. Adam. Hershel. Gracie. Coco. Carol. Ezekiel. Maggie. Rosita. Aaron. Jesus. Jerry. Rick. Merle. T-Dog.

“Oo, I want to be here when T-Dog visits. Has he ever visited?” Y/N chirped.

He wished. “Once. I just think about him a lot.”

“Bummer. He must have been so thrilled when we actually did name our first after him, without you even tellin’ me nothing about how he’d teased you on it! Say, what about Uncle Jesse? Does he visit? He must’ve been happy TJ’s middle name is for him!”

He shook his head. You even visited me before I was smart enough to fall for you. When I fell down the ridge. It was you and Merle.

A sneezing from one of the kids in another part of the building resounded four times. It woke him briefly.

He closed his eyes, focused…

It was okay, Y/N was there. Daryl breathed a sigh of relief.

“I am a mite surprised you didn’t take the floor anyway,” Y/N admitted, peeking over his side to look at where the nun Isabelle was laying down next to him. “Or share with Laurent so the two sisters could share.”

“Neither of them trust me enough for me to share a room with the boy. And she sounded like she didn’t want me on the floor. Must be that I’m gettin’ too old." All I feel these days is tired and sore. "Hell, I don’t think I could get up if I slept on the floor.”

Angel, I ain’t the same without you, I’m a fucking mess. Look at the shit show that I’ve made of things.

His wife whispered, “Hey. You know I can hear that, I’m from your imagination.”

“Y/N, I miss you so fucking much.” Baby, I’m so goddamned far from you all and I don’t know how I’m gonna get out this time.

“No cusses in front of the kids, Daryl,” She cupped her belly, the one he was imagining she might have again. Carol, when she spoke to him, used what little time there was to mention how Y/N was avoiding taking a test because she missed him too much. Y/N didn’t say nothing about it in her letter she'd packed in there during one of his home visits.

How’s that for a reason to hate yourself?

“You should,” shot back another familiar voice. “Leaving your own kin, leaving your woman. Ain’t you learned nothing, boy? Didn’t think you was that much of a deadbeat but here’s proof the apple didn’t fall far from the tree."

Merle.

Damn, it’d been ages!

"Yup. Nanu nanu," his brother mocked, waving his metal stump and glaring. "Here you are, in the white flag capital of the world, surrounded by Euro kooks instead of your own blood.”

“Oh, Daryl, don’t imagine him as cruel again!" Y/N cooed. "Let us both love you if you’re gonna go about having us here.”

Daryl breathed slowly so he wouldn’t wake up. When he felt level enough, he answered, “I don’t have much control over what y’all say.”

“I thought you had some control over it.” Y/N gently pushed his hair off his face. He loved it when she did that. Delicately, she examined the new scar gracing his forehead.

“I blame that old coot what you let whup you on the head as to why you’re seeing things,” his brother crooned.

His wife nodded. “Another concussion, you poor man. But this isn’t a hallucination, it’s just a dream. It’s that good kind of dream where you’re not fully awake but not fully asleep.” She trailed her hand along his forearm.

“Y/N, you’re too good for this sad sack.”

She fired back faster than Daryl knew his imagination could go. “Merle. You love your brother to death and you’re happy he got hisself a wife and family.” Y/N had pushed herself up to sitting in order to scold him. “Tell me you don’t swell with pride seein’ him be a good father and good husband. The cycle stopped with him, and you’re proud of it.”

Daryl, a hand protectively around his wife’s side, was busy trying to figure out what Merle was even doing, whittling?

Ah, he was eating an peach with the knife attached to his metal stump.

Weird, he thought ghosts didn’t eat.

“Maybe I ain’t a real ghost, retard,” was a blunt comeback. “Maybe I’m just a poor copy you conjured up in that concussed little head of yours.” Merle then turned to Y/N. “As for you, kitten, he left you and your brats! Left you when you was up the duff, left you when you don’t even got all your legs no more! How’s he supposed to protect you when he’s out here?”

“Merle William Dixon! I ain’t ‘kitten’ and those ‘brats’ are your nieces and nephews, dick. Noah’s middle name is even for you, so you best watch your mouth, hear?”

Merle smirked and sliced off another wedge from the peach. “There’s my sister-in-law. I had to make sure your square self at least still had that fire in ya.” He offered her a slice, but she crossed her arms.

The expression on her face was so disappointed it made Daryl’s chest tug.

His brother duly inclined his head in apology and raised his hands in surrender. “You’re right, ma’am. Y’all are doing a good job on them brats. And this sumbitch ain’t nothing like our old man, so there’s something.” Merle chopped another piece of fruit. “And it’s always a pleasure to roll with a fellow amputee, Y/N. Not many can relate to how trippy the phantom limb bullshit can get.”

She tilted her head in agreement, rubbed the spot above her prosthetic calf, and settled back down next to her husband with a big sigh. “I do wish Daryl imagined you in a kinder light, Merle, but, either way, I’m happy he watched Mork & Mindy because it got him thinkin’ about you — and now you’re here for him!” Her hand grazed along her bump. “And, you meant to say to him that I was possibly pregnant.”

“Dunno about that, sister, you’ve always seem to know when you been knocked up.”

“That ain’t incorrect,” she confessed, curling in on herself. “Even if I was, it’s possible we had a loss again, Merle. Whether early or late this time.”

“Another reason he shouldn’t be screwin’ around out here.” Merle next words sliced him as if his heart were the peach in his hands. “I'm angry for your own good, lady. What if you had to handle another kid's death, this time on your own?”

The bad memories crashed down like waves threatening to drown him in grief and guilt. He wanted to pummel his brother in the hopes Merle would best him and make him pay for leaving her.

But Merle wasn't actually there. Neither was Y/N. It was pretend. Daryl was just beating himself up in his head, and failing even at that.

Y/N said the words as Daryl thought them: “Why are you twisting the knife?” She swallowed and covered her face with her hands. “Maybe, this mission is w-worth the sacrifice of, of us not havin’ him here right now.”

No. It’s not.

I know you said that before I left to make it hurt less, but it’s not. Listen to your stutter, you know it ain’t.

I should be back there with you, not constantly leaving for weeks at a time. I'm supposed to be home now. I'd told Carol when I reached her on the radio back in Maine that I'd be there in a about a week, which is what she would've told you. This whole thing is horseshit!

“Darlin’, think on happier things or you’ll upset yourself awake or into another nightmare,” Y/N soothed. "You almost woke from anger at Merle just there, which is really just anger at yourself." Her fingers laced into his where his hand rested on her belly. His wish was that his dream would include feeling the baby move. He loved that feeling. Except, he must’ve been waking up because his dream wasn’t letting him feel her hand or her belly very much when he tried. Still, it felt real enough. He’d take what he could get.

“Might could be fun to think back on how beautiful it was making them, if indeed we made another one.” She walked two fingers along his bicep. “Would’ve happened on or around the last night before you left. Or,” she mused, then started to giggle. At that moment, he could even imagine the vibrations of her laughter as if she were really, actually laying beside him. It felt so real! “I wouldn’t be surprised if made them on the day itself, that was soo — oh man, hold up!” She pulled away from him and eyed his crotch in suspicion. “No sex dreams allowed, there’s a bride of Christ in the room! Keep that thing down, deal?”

He almost laughed out loud, and possibly in real life. So long as he didn’t wake up, he didn’t care if he laughed in his sleep. The reactions, the tone, it was all just like his Y/N. And he could hope they had another kid. He’d take as many as came along.

Aw, shit, how far would she even be along, if this one made it? How long had he been away?

“Goddamn, y’all, is this some kinda kink you got?” Merle cut in. “Me and the penguin are still here, you perverts.”

“Oh hush, neither of us are actually here. Him and me aren’t doing nothin’, he just got a little aroused,” Y/N countered. “And to answer your question about another baby, Daryl, I reckon you’ll find out when you come back.” She shrugged. “Unless you reach us on a radio? Eugene is diligent about it, especially now.”

That was another thing she wrote in her letter. Eugene and his radio.

The helplessness crashed back down on him. “I’m tryin’ babe.” He didn’t want to start crying. The nun was next to him and he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop crying once he started.

Merle jeered, “Try harder, Darylina.”

He was right, Daryl needed to. He needed to try harder! What kind of washed out fuck-up was he?

“Sweetheart,” his wife called softly. Her hand caressed his cheek. It felt so, so real. “Margaret — a woman who knows the pain of losing a husband — trusted this to you because you survive. And I trusted you to go, because you’ve got the brains, the balls, and the grit. You don’t die or get bit, Daryl, no. You always come home.”

Bullshit. Not this time.

“Not bullshit. Yes, this time.” She looked to the window. “Merle, back me up.”

“Based on your track record, she’s right, little brother.”

“You may not believe you can or will,” she lifted herself up on her hands and leaned forward to kiss him. It had to have been real. It felt so, so real. But he was not about to open his eyes to see if by some miracle it was. “Despite how you feel right now, my bet is you will get that happy ending. It ain’t coincidence that Laurent said so just like our Judith did! How’s that for a reason to hope?”

Shit, he was about to break down. “Y/N, maybe I don’t deserve that. You saw the shit-show what got me here.” And there came the tears. “I left you, that’s all there is to this. I don’t deserve you.”

“Oh, that word.” Y/N wasn’t a fan of the word ‘deserve.’ “On that topic, what an honest prayer you said to bless the food! So many times you used ‘deserve,’ ugh, but,” she paused, “God loves honesty like that. Very, very much.”

She kissed his eyelids where the tears were starting to slip out, kissed the scar that never seemed to fade, then settled back against the side of his chest and curled one leg around him. With her hand, she rubbed comforting circles along his torso. “And He don’t punish or withhold, that’s just our fallen world. His hand is always out for you,” she murmured. “Say, how long do you think you can keep up with imaginin’ my theology?”

“Angel, I’m already at my limit. That’s why part of me thinks you’ve gotta be here somehow, some parts of this feel so real. Smart stuff like this ain’t in my head.”

“TJ and Georgia would call out your self-hate if they could hear you. You’d owe them a lot of quarters. Hm, and euros, seeing as you're here.”

His chest tugged at their names. “How are they?”

TJ, their oldest besides Lydia, had long hair like the little French kid here. Just one other thing that ripped at Daryl’s heartstrings to make him ache so bad for home it shocked him that he wasn’t bleeding out.

“They’re as good as gold and better. Just like their father.” That phrase he knew was from his memory because she’d said it before. “All of us miss you like crazy. Postal level.”

You shouldn’t.

“Daryl.” Her hand gripped his. There’s no way it wasn’t real. It felt so real. “When I was broken after Carl's death, and I claimed the same stuff — that you should leave me and TJ, that you needed someone better, that your life would be better if we weren’t a part of it — how much did it rip you up? ’Cause even if I hadn’t told you this before, you would have to understand how it’s tearing my insides to shreds hearin’ you think the same.”

Calm. He had to stay calm or he’d be alone again.

“I’m right,” he whispered.

“I have to disagree.”

“I —” his voice went up. He switched tactics and spoke to his brother. “Merle, talk some sense into her. I failed. This is it, this is—”

“—You did screw shit up like a royal turd, but your lady would rip my danglers off if I went along with your pretty little pity party.”

Believe it or not, the tough love helped. Felt genuine, as if Merle really was shouting some sense into him. It felt so real.

He caught his wife giving Merle an air high-five. “Thank you, Merle.”

In hindsight, Daryl figured it must’ve be because Merle, in Daryl’s imagination, had to raise his metal arm to return the five. He taunted Y/N, “You’re welcome, peg-leg.”

Dream or not, Daryl was fixing to bark, but his wife playfully kicked her own prosthetic and taunted back, “Love you, gimpy.”

His brother was smug. “Square.”

As if Y/N hadn’t heard that before.“Trailer trash.”

As if Merle hadn’t heard that before. “Goody-two shoes.”

“Two shoes? Ahem,” Y/N drawled as prim and proper as a southern belle. “Did we not just establish how I only require but one shoe these days?”

Merle slapped his thigh and cackled like a hyena and Daryl couldn’t help but do the same. Y/N joked about her missing calf like she got paid for it, pirate jokes to no end.

Daryl hadn’t felt this light in months, not even close to it since leaving home.

��And to think, it was all a lie.

All fake.

They weren’t really there. Not his wife, not his dead brother. It was all in his head.

“Oh, my sweet mangy hick. Enough moping and angst, enjoy the moment! Merle and I really did a fair job on our banter just there. And you never know, Merle could really be here, seein’ as he’s dead.”

“Y/N, I even miss bickering with ya, goddamn,” he breathed.

“It is one of our love languages. That reminds me — you’re doing great with the French, Dare!”

She can’t be serious. Or, rather, he himself can’t be serious. “Babe, I ain’t spoken a word of it. The letters don’t matter half the time. I swear, these people sound drunk.”

Merle snickered, “Hell, even I speak better French than him. Voulez vous coucher av—”

“—Well, I meant like when you used the dictionary to translate that conjugated verb.” Her voice had gone down when she said this and it sounded, well…how it usually sounded when she was turned on. “If I were there, the part where I’d push your suspenders off your shoulders would drive me wild…”

Stay calm or you’ll wake up, Daryl.

And you realllly don’t want to start a sex dream with some other chick in the room. A nun!

“Get a room, horndogs. The word was ‘conjugated,’ not ‘conjugal,’” Merle spat. “This is why you got all them kids.”

His wife made one of her signature huffs, but didn’t say nothing back to Merle. Into Daryl’s ear, she sympathized, “Being horny is so annoyin’.”

Ha. Blushing even in his dreams. Part of him wondered if he was cracking up in his sleep, too, but either way, it felt good. Felt real. It felt so, so real. “I don’t even know what ‘conjugated’ means, Y/N.”

“Yes you do, otherwise I wouldn’t say it. I’m a figment of your imagination, remember?” Aw man, why’d she have to nuzzle him in the crook of his neck? He loved it when she did that. Mmm, hot damn it felt so real… “And you know that you doin’ something like conjugating a verb in another language would be sexy to me.”

“I told y’all jackrabbits to keep your britches on. Now, Daryl: ‘conjugate’ is when you make the verb agree grammatically with the subject. You’ve heard that word before,” Merle explained. Seemed out of character. And the room looked strange, there was—it was another room now?

Daryl’s thoughts turned to when Y/N and Rosita would speak Spanish. Listening as Judith helped TJ and RJ with phonics. Watching Georgia sing to baby Louise that song Siddiq had taught her in, what language was it?

“Hey. Dummy,” Merle scoffed. “You’re driftin’ off, sweet boy. Gotta stay a teensy bit lucid if you want us here.”

So that’s why the room had just looked different. He’d been slipping.

“I still don’t get how this happens, which is why I think you’re actually here,” Daryl said to both of them. “Merle, you’re probably in…somewhere in-between.”

“What, I don’t get to be in heaven yet? Y/N, you hearin’ this uppity sumbitch?”

“He still has trouble believing in such things, Merle, especially lately. I prayed for your soul, so I got hope.”

“Thank you, sister.”

“Anytime.” Y/N looked up at Daryl and smiled. “Then what about me, dude? I ain’t dead, pinky promise. So, how is it that I come to be here?”

Yeah, he’ll be as sappy as he wants with his wife of ten years. “Maybe you’re dreamin’ about me, too.”

Merle’s kissy noises were interrupted by Daryl firmly telling him to get out after which Y/N smooched him harder than she’d had in his imagination since he’d left America. The smell of her, the sounds she made, the way she would lift her head so he could bury his face in her neck, it all felt so real.

It was when she ran her hand lower down his abdomen and almost reached his you-know-what that it all stopped cold. “Sorry! Aw, shoot — Merle! Get back in here, quick, we got carried away! Well, t-technically it was all you, Dare, but — just, please don’t get a stiffy with a nun in the room!”

“Someone should put that on a shirt,” his brother called.

“Ew, no, Merle! Good Moses, maybe I really should ought to be there if you’re startin’ to imagine messed up t-shirt slogans.” She was only teasing. “Ooh, but if I were really there I could meet little Sister Sylvie! So far, I like her.”

“I knew you would.” Daryl grinned. “The way she is with the boy, she reminds me of you.”

If only you were really here, angel.

Wait, no, I don’t want you here because you wouldn’t be safe. I need you safe.

She brought his hand to her lips. “I know what you meant, sugar.”

Unexpectedly, the nun shifted on the bed, nearly jolting him fully awake.

Slow breaths. Keep your eyes shut, do not open them!

He kept them shut tight and pictured where Y/N had been to try and keep her there.

“What am I, chopped pig’s feet?” Merle grunted.

Daryl relaxed. Merle was still there, and he got back the feeling of Y/N beside him.

“You know,” his wife considered. While she was still there, he was having trouble visualizing her. Was he still close to waking up? “That Sister Isabelle is willin’ to risk sharing a room with a strange American says a lot about how much she’ll give to protect the boy and the others here.”

“Still damn weird she didn’t just share a room, the three of ’em.”

“It is. It’s really weird.” Y/N rested her forehead on his chest. He felt the warmth of her breathing against him. If he focused really hard, he could just about imagine the feel her heartbeat, too. “Maybe she’s fixing to be the first line of defense, with all them other kids livin’ here.”

“Still weird,” he grunted. “Hey, where’d my—” He looked around in his imagination at the room. “Where’d my brother go?”

“Maybe he wanted another peach. Or, maybe you're too close to wakin’ up. Be careful, darling.”

He breathed slowly and kept his eyes locked shut. His frustration was growing. It had felt so real, why was it going away?

Calm. Stay calm so she’ll stay.

“It was also unusual,” Y/N thought, “how Sister Izzy—”

“—Sister Izzy?”

He imagined that her mouth would have twisted in embarrassment. “Yes, I’d probably definitely give her that nickname. You sure know how to portray me realistically.” She started again, “It’s unusual how she didn’t accommodate for your maybe-not-wantin’-to-be-seen-in-the-tub-by-a-nun. By anyone, for that matter. Although,” she reconsidered, “they were nurses who had to change your undies and cauterize your wound, weren’t they?” When he pictured her bottom lip beginning to tremble, he held her closer. “Oh, I hate that they all died but for two! What has this world come to? Why would those men kill them?”

That was something.

The dream got easier to maintain. He felt the curve of her waist. The rise and fall of her chest. It felt real again. It felt so, so real.

Relieved, he didn’t know what to say at first other than, “The water was cloudy enough.” When he was getting treated, bathed, doctored, how hard he wished it was Y/N doing it. Another thing that made him ache, watching them nuns give him medical attention when for the past 12 years it’d almost always been his wife.

He breathed out heavily. “Dunno, when she was in there, it wasn’t too uncomfortable.”

“The habit can have that effect on some. The crucifixes and religious artworks hopefully brought some peace, too.”

“Habit?”

“Nun outfit.”

He tried to hold her even tighter. The way it felt more real than before encouraged him, got him nearly falling off his seat with excitement that he got her back!

Except, the excitement turned into panic that he might lose this moment because he was so happy, as fake as it was.

And it sent him over the edge. Just like that, he was awake. Very awake. And alone. No Y/N, no Merle.

He blinked as the room came into focus.

None of it was real. He’d, he'd known that.

And now he was awake. Lying on some flat, shitty, tiny bed, an ocean away, in a country full of people he didn’t understand, that had walkers who burned you when they touched you, and soldiers who shot up a convent full of nuns who patched up strangers and were only trying to keep a little boy safe.

He didn’t even have his ring anymore. All he had was a snippet on a voice recorder that told the world his name and how badly he'd fucked up.

Daryl turned onto his side, the pain from his burned arm screaming at him, but he didn’t give one flying fuck. Y/N wasn’t there anymore because his stupid ass had woken up! He’d earned the pain, he needed it, he deserved it.

Quietly, he thought to hell with it and let himself weep. He was so fucking done with all this bullshit.

He wanted Y/N back. He wanted his kids back. The fuck kind of brainless jackass was he, leaving them for so long, so much? And for what?

To "see what's out there?"

As if he'd find people who had a cure?

To bring Rick and Mich home? If Rick is even alive, if Michonne is alive.

To transport some creepy French boy to a group of weirdos grasping at the hope of some imaginary friend in the sky who damns them if they don’t do all the rules in the world that He’d let go to shit as a punishment or test?

Really, was Daryl that much of a guilt-ridden jerk-off to still say yes to whatever Maggie asks him to do? It’s a hopeless fu—

“Daryl, I love you so much. Please don’t blaspheme.”

“Y/N?” I thought you was gone. No, you were gone, I woke up! “You’re back?” Holy shit, thank you. Thank you! Thank you, Whoever's up there.

That small, shy smile melted all the ice he’d just had in his heart. “Try not to wake all the way again?”

He didn’t waste any more time blubbering like an idiot, he reached for her and held on. It was still a dream, so he had to be careful to not get too excited or do anything too stimulating. And, don’t worry, he wasn’t about to willingly get a hard-on when there was a nun next to him.

He just needed to have Y/N in his arms again so he could make it through the next 5 minutes without going insane!

For 12 years, she’d been there, loving him in one way or another. For 10 years they’d been husband and wife. Without her, without their kids there, in that strange, foreign place, he was losing himself so quick it brought him to his knees with shame.

Her lips pulled away for a moment. “I wouldn’t agree that you’re losing yourself. I watched Shaney lose himself, it looked different. Daryl, I’m serious,” she insisted. “Listen: did you not save that dad and daughter even after they robbed you?”

Big whoop. “You know what those guerrilla shits would’ve done to her." The same thing that got done to you. "And those assholes would prolly have made the old man watch and killed me regardless.”

“Yeah, but you also went back to try and save that gaggle of nuns from those jar-head pieces of shit, that’s got to count for somethin’.” Wait, that was Merle’s voice. He was back, too?

Daryl looked over at the window to see his brother there once more. Merle winked. “My baby brother, the hero. Stay zen if you’re fixing to keep us here, now. Keep hittin’ that sweet spot between dreamland and the real world.”

Y/N beamed at Merle before turning back to Daryl. “And did you not help those children get the medicine, Dare? Heck, now they got access to that whole castle full of supplies and it’s so much more secure. Um, m-minus the moat full of dead ones.”

“I lied to those kids out my ass, Y/N. Lied and didn’t give a damn.”

“And you ensured none of them got hurt, then promptly admitted the lie with what I’d call purity of heart.”

“I cut that boy’s mule loose without a second thought. You see that? He loved that thing.”

“Better than to have failed to back up the cart in time, which would have happened and would have gotten all five of y’all eaten. And it was almost fast enough to escape by the looks of it. One dead mule to the benefit of four living souls is a good outcome.”

“What’d my sister-in-law say earlier?” Merle asked. “Brains, balls, and grit? Not to sound all mushy gushy, but she’s right.”

The memories of falling into that moat of walkers seized him, made him start to panic again. No brains, no balls, he almost died right in there—

“—Baby, shh,” Y/N hushed. Her arms tightly wrapped around him the way she would when his nightmares hit bad. “You survived. No bites. No burns. Not even a broken bone, I don’t know how you managed it again.” Her lips, her chest, her hands pressed against him. It felt so, so real. “But you always seem to.” She kissed him. “You’ve got brains.” Another kiss. “Balls.” A deeper kiss. “And grit. And you’re alive, sweetheart. There’s always hope as long as your heart is still beating.”

“How will I get out of this?”

“You’ll find a way,” she said with confidence. “You simply don’t know what the way is yet.”

“What do I do about the nuns?”

“Help them keep Laurent safe, of course — if you choose to do so.”

I don’t want to.

“You don’t have to,” she assured him.

I want to go home.

“And you will,” she assured him once again.

I don’t want to help them. I don’t want to. I don’t fucking want to!

…God damn it. “But I should.”

“You ain’t obligated,” Y/N responded, but with hesitation that time. “It is up to you.”

Merle was the one to point out, “It’s that conscience of yours, kid. Sometimes you just can’t help but help. I’ve been watchin’ you these past, what is it, 11 years since I got my crusty white ass killed?” He chuckled to himself as he shaved off the final bit of peach before flicking the pit away. “Can’t be too mad at it when it roped you a fine piece of ass to squeeze at night and how many kids because of it?”

“Merle,” Y/N warned.

Daryl could feel his anger rising.

“What, ain’t you relieved I can’t call you ‘sweet little virgin’ no more, son?” Merle kept egging on.

“Daryl, this isn’t really him. Don’t get angry or we’ll both disapp—”

“—So, my thinking is, Daryl, that you just won’t be able to help yourself from bringing that little sissy boy to them nutjobs —”

“Shut up!” Daryl burst out — and opened his eyes in real time. Again? Is he that much of an idiot?

His pulse was pounding. Dread and self-loathing flooded his mind, how stupid could he be?

Immediately, he squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate hope to get his wife and brother back. He focused, focused, focused, prayed, pretended, focused…

“Daryl,” came her voice.

He could hear Y/N, but not see her. It was clear that it was all him forcing the memory of her voice back. It was all in his head.

“Why bother caring that it’s in your head, sugar? Breathe slowly and focus on the feel of my body against yours. I don’t wanna leave you."

“Y/N, I need to get back,” he panted. “I can use their help to do that. Those religious people, the Union of Hope or whoever, Isabelle says they got a good radio. I need that to get back home.”

“Well, there you go! I trust you.”

He reached up to tangle his fingers where her hair would be. His imagination wasn’t letting it happen, so he focused with gratefulness that at least he could still hear her.

“Just don’t abuse their trust, and you’ll be alright,” she softly pleaded.

Don’t break their trust? “Angel, you don’t know what I did to end up in this mess.”

Of all the ways he could have daydreamed her reacting, it was that her laughter filled the room. “For the last time, my mangy hick, I am a figment of your imagination and quite literally know everythin’ inside that brain of yours. And I still love you despite that ‘shit-show’ what landed you here.”

He brought to mind the color of her eyes, wanting, wanting, begging for a miracle that would make her truly there with him so he could stare into them all night. “What would you say if I asked ‘that if I don’t find nothing, what good am I?’”

“Y/N, you can blame our raising for that shit right there,” his brother commented.

“You poor boys. Broken people sometimes make for broken kids.”

Gently, he started to perceive the way she would rub her cheek against his chest when she’d lay down with him. “Daryl? If I were here, I’d say things to try and make it stick in your head that your worth ain’t dependent on what you can offer.”

“What does it depend on, then?”

“Careful, you’re treading into religious waters now, and I ain’t sure you’ve got the bandwidth tonight. But God is involved,” she hinted.

This mess was hopeless, wasn’t it? No winning, no out, no happy ending.

“Angel, I can’t come home empty-handed.” He squeezed his eyes tighter and willed himself to not lose his cool yet again. “I can’t come home with no Rick or Michonne, no cure, no nothin’ but a burn, more nightmares, and more lives on my conscience.”

“You can,” she answered simply. “It ain’t all on you. No — please, don’t get any more upset or you’ll wake up again! Daryl, I’ve already slipped so far away!” He heard his wife begin to cry, but the sound went further and further from him. All he could see were the backs of his eyelids.

Still, he held on as best he could. “Please stay here, angel.”

“I-I would, sweetheart.”

“When I’m back, I won’t even want to leave the walls to hunt if it would mean not being next to you, d’you know that?”

“Let someone else hunt. You’ve done enough to last a lifetime.” Her voice was hoarse the way it had been when she’d said those same words to him about a year and a half ago. “More than enough. Oh Daryl, I’m so sorry we’re going.”

“Not yet, angel, please don’t!”

“Use all those things makin’ you homesick as reasons to hope. Do it for me, sugar. Get yourself home again. Don’t die, don’t get bit.”

“I won’t. I’ll get back to you. Tell the kids I love ’em?”

There was silence.

Stillness.

Daryl lay there, accepting that he couldn’t feel Y/N next to him anymore.

His throat tightened. “Angel?”

He doesn’t know why he bothered. She was gone, he knew it. He ran his finger where his ring should’ve been, if he hadn’t lost it.

“Angel,” he tried again.

Silence.

“Babe, please. Please.”

Silence.

“Y/N, please, one more time, angel.”

Silence.

The pain in him was hollow and cold.

Feeling small and helpless, he lifted his arms above his head and held back a wail of despair. He closed his eyes again and, in his head, he cried out in desperation, “Merle?”

At first, there was no answer. He hadn't expected one. Why should he?

But then he heard a quiet, low, “I’m still here.”

Merle spoke slowly and heavily, almost as if it hurt him to admit it. “I don’t think she’s gonna come back tonight, Daryl. You’ve already fallen out a few times. I ain’t gonna be here much longer, neither. You know that.”

Any strength he had left seeped out like a stab wound, leaving him crying like a child. “I can’t see you anymore.”

“I know, little brother.”

“It felt so real.”

“It sure as hell did. I think you needed it, even if it hurts like a bitch now.”

It had felt so, so real!

But it wasn’t. “I’m alone,” he choked out.

“Nothin’ you can’t handle.” For a moment Daryl could make out his brother’s face again. “You’re a tough sumbitch, so I’d advise you act like it. Quit blubberin’ like a baby and wipe the snot out your nose.”

Daryl sniffed and tried to get a grip.

“Good.” Merle’s voice began to echo. He was almost gone, too. “Now listen here: don’t die, don’t get bit. Get your ass back where you belong.”

The room came into view.

The echoing stopped.

The hollow, cold pain he’d felt at knowing they were gone there turned sharp and hot. Turns out, it was actually the throbbing in his arm. Daryl really had turned onto his side, which positioned his burned arm underneath him. He strained to get off it and flip onto his back.

You know what? The pain from his burned arm didn’t hold a candle to the ache in his chest.

Were those tears on his face, too? Guess he must’ve started crying for real in his sleep. Made sense considering how real it all felt. It all felt so real.

If only his pulse would stop racing, he felt sick.

He was getting damned old.

Instinctively, he tried to fiddle with his wedding band, which is when he recalled yet again how he’d lost it. Only a faint tan line remained.

He closed his eyes, exhausted, and chewed at his lip. Another tear or two escaped and ran hot down his cheek.

A strange part of him wished he hadn’t lied to Laurent about having a wife and family back home. At the time he said it so it wouldn't hurt as much, but…

“You deserve a happy ending, too,” the kid had told him. Just like his Judith had, when she saw how low and unworthy he begun to feel. She told her auntie Y/N, too, of course, not that his wife wasn’t unaware of how twisted his head had gotten into thinking he was no good. It didn’t feel twisted to him, it felt honest. He didn’t deserve them. They were too good.

His wife’s words to him played again in his mind. He may have just been making all that shit up in his brain, but he was only remembering a mix of real things that she’d told him before, over and over in the hopes his stupid ass would accept it one day.

“Despite how you feel right now, my vote is you will get that happy ending. It ain’t coincidence that Laurent said so just like our Judith did! How’s that for a reason to hope?”

He did need a reason. It was getting harder and harder to hold onto hope. Any hope.

So, maybe, a weird kid with long hair like TJ’s who drew a picture of some washed-up bum on a beach three weeks before Daryl showed up was reason enough to hope. He could grasp onto that.

If it would get him home, hell yeah, he could do that.

How the same weird kid told him what his niece had and what his wife had could be reason enough, too. He could grasp onto that as well, if it would get him home. He could do that for them.

Daryl ran his hand in slow, gentle circles along his stomach like Y/N would. Maybe he’d been doing this in his dream, which is why it felt so real.

It had all felt so, so real.

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

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

-> Masterlist link here <-

and our tiny taglist :D

@spenciepoo338 ; @oceanticspace​​​​ ; @whistlesalot ; @buffy-the-assbutt-slayer ;  @dreamingaboutthewonderland ; @kwazii-kat ; @darylsmavis ; @outlanderhornet22 ; @battinsonrobs ; @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable ; @writingmybeloved ; @boomergirl123 ; @iheartathena0 ; @moonliight-luv ; @suniloli ; @supernaturalgirl02 ; @cnake-garden ; @daryldixmedown ; @sophehe ; @crashlyrose ; @virgo-sunflower920 ; @jennythe ; @theficbaker ; @vampireautism ; @rosetta196 ; @wifeof-barnes ; @thegemthatreads ; @redjaylee ; @thegirlwiththepurpleshelves

(inbox is open if you would like on or off the taglist, slowpokes! Please don’t feel bad or nervous if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know in the inbox. We’re all friends here and your comfort level matters)  

[ripleyresonance]

Sweet Enough to Eat

Sugar Mommy Rhea! x OC

Part 2

Happy Holiday's Mosherz. I hope you all made it on the naughty list this year. This is part 1 of a sugar mommy Rhea fic idea I had. Let me know if you want more...it might be ready already...

Cali had always enjoyed the finer things in life.

Her favorite perfume was Vanilla Diorama by Dior. Her favorite weekend getaway was Nicè, France. And she had even had her favorite sakè flown in from Japan on a bi-weekly schedule.

The best part was that she didn’t spend a dime on this lifestyle. It was all thanks to her sugar mommy.

Cali smiled sitting at her vanity and looking at a picture of her “mami” on her vanity. Cali was unsure which state or country she was in right now. Being an international WWE superstar meant she was gone most of the time. And with past sugar mommy’s, Cali had never cared as long as they bought her what she wanted she was happy. But something about this one left this empty feeling inside of her when Rhea left.

It all started a few months ago. Cali was down on her luck in a major way. Her last sugar mommy had ghosted her and she was running low on perfume. It had even been three weeks since she had her nails done. It was a dire situation.

To take her mind off it she went to her favorite bar from college. She knew they had cheap drinks so she put on a baseball cap and sunglasses and just tried to keep your head down and drink the sadness away. By the time she left, she was understandably pretty fucked up. Maybe she was a little too fucked up as she was bent over throwing up on the brick wall next to the building in the ally. She went to sit on the cool pavement as she felt a strong arm hold her up.

“Woah woah easy there beautiful. Don’t want you to sit in this puke puddle.” An Australian accent said to Cali.

Cali giggled as she stood up facing the woman.

“Y-you sound like bluey.” Cali burped.

The woman laughed.

“You would be surprised how often I get that.” She smiled.

“Can I get you an Uber love, you look like it’s been a rough night?” She said frowning a bit.

“Oh, you wouldn’t even believe the half of it! I mean first, she ghosted me and didn’t even leave me enough money to get my nails done last week now look at them.” Cali cried showing the woman her nails.

“Who could ever let such a pretty thing let their nails go undone?!” She said playing along with Cali.

Cali smiled at the woman as her drunk brain thought someone finally understood her problems.

“What’s your address honey?” the woman asked propping her against the wall to grab her phone.

Cali frowned at the woman.

“I don’t wanna go home. It’s not like anyone will be waiting for me.” Cali said making the women pause for a moment. “Did you want to go back to my place?” She offered.

Cali gasped dramatically.

“Are you trying to kidnap me!?” Cali said loudly.

The women panicked.

“NO NO oh god you just looked sad and sounded like you-“ the woman stuttered.

Cali laughed loudly playfully pushing her shoulder. “I’m fucking with you. A sexy buff lady just asked me to come back to her house. I’ll happily be kidnapped.” Cali said putting her hands out in front of her acting ready for cuffs.

The woman chuckled rubbing the back of her neck.

“You going to be a real handful huh?”

“I could be two handfuls if you wanted..” Cali said grabbing her chest and making the woman laugh.

“C'mon then my car is around the corner she said grabbing Cali’s hand to guide her. It was warm and grounding, enough for her to realize.

“Wait wait wait,” Cali said making the woman stop to face her.

“I’m about to go home with you but I don't even know your name. I mean not like I haven't hooked up with someone before not knowing their name” Cali said.

The woman thought for a moment before touching Cali's chin lightly.

“ We are not doing anything tonight in the state you are in besides getting you a new outfit. You can call me Rhea…what can I call you?” Rhea said her voice low.

“Shit with that voice you can call me whatever you like.” Cali felt her face heat up. “But my friends call me Cali”.

“Well…Cali, shall we go home?”

The next thing Cali knew she was opening her eyes to a bull terrier licking her face.

She shot up in a bed that was not hers as a woman ran in the door.

“Oh shit I am so sorry I wanted to let you sleep in. Barry DOWN off the bed.” the woman snapped as the dog ran off.

Cali looked at the woman momentarily as last night flooded back to her. She remembered her picking her off of the sidewalk, going back to her place…throwing up on her-

“Oh, my god.” Cali said “I just remembered…I am so sorry!” She went to move from the bed until she realized she had no clothes on.

Cali looked mortified as Rhea quickly reassured her.

“We didn't do anything! After you threw up on me I went to go shower and I came back to you naked and laying on my bed so I threw the blanket on you and went to sleep on the couch” Rhea said frantically.

“I- oh my god.” is all Cali could say putting her head in her hands.

“Hey hey we all have had those days, trust me,” Rhea said leaning down next to her and placing a glass of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand.

“You have woken up naked in a stranger's bed after she picked you up out of your own puke?” Cali said peeking out of her hands.

“Well…no,” Rhea admitted causing Cali to groan and fall over.

Rhea laughed going to her closet to grab Cali some clothes.

“Here you can take a shower real quick and throw on these clothes, I will make us some coffee.” Rhea smiled before leaving Cali alone.

As Cali showered all she could do was die of embarrassment remembering the night before. Did she call A total stranger a “sexy buff lady?”. On top of that strip naked and lay on her bed. Cali had to get out of there quickly but after walking out to the kitchen she was hit with the smell of toast.

“There you are sunshine, I got coffee and some toast, the hangover breakfast of champions.”

Rhea sat the food on her kitchen island before Cali as she just stared at the woman.

“Why are you being so nice to me…” Cali said quietly. Rhea looked at the woman with soft eyes.

“Last night you told me you didn't want to go home…you said no one was waiting there..and I don't think anyone should feel that way…especially not someone as beautiful as you are.”

Rhea mumbled the last part as Cali blushed taking a seat and drinking a sip of coffee.

“So did you just break up with your partner then?” Rhea questioned as she leaned against the counter sipping a cup of her coffee.

“Oh no, I haven't dated in…a long time.” Cali laughed

Rhea cocked her eyebrow.

“Sorry you mentioned someone was paying for your nails and perfume so I assumed,” Rhea said

Cali groaned internally thinking how she was about to explain to this kind stranger that she just gets sugar mommies to buy her things. She should have just lied but the ibuprofen was taking longer than she wanted to kick in.

“I uh…people like to buy me those things sometimes,” Cali said avoiding eye contact.

Rhea had a devious smile across her face.

“Are you a sugar baby?” Rhea questioned.

Cali signed looking at Rhea.

“Okay okay let me explain I started back in college and it was super easy and I started getting used to all the gifts and attention and-” Cali rambled.

“Hey hey, no judgment from me..It's not like you are scamming people. They just like giving you what you want, and I see why.” Rhea smirked.

Cali looked confused as Rhea set her cup down standing in front of Cali grabbing her hand. “You were right last night. I cannot believe someone would let you have your nails grown out this much. I would let you change them multiple times a week if that was what you wanted.

Cali stared at her shaking her head and laughing.

“Okay okay poke fun of me all you want thank you for the breakfast,” Cali said getting up as Rhea as Rhea pulled her hand again.

“I’m being serious…Cali.” Rhea said.

“My job has me flying everywhere, I am rarely here at home and it would be nice to have someone to come home to when I am back Maybe even fly out sometimes.” Rhea smiled.

Cali blinked a couple of times trying to process what Rhea was saying.

“… I’m sorry but do you remember me puking on you less than twenty-four hours ago? Why in the fuck would you want to be my sugar mommy.” Cali said highly confused.

“Because Cali I find you…interesting, and I want to find out why,” Rhea said lightly kissing the inside of Cali’s wrist making her blush.

As the offer hung in the air Cali’s mind raced at the unexpected turn of events. Rhea offered to go get her nails fixed she couldn't help but feel a sort of tension in the air…Cali did not know if it was all in her head or what but she could have sworn that kiss to her wrist was more romantic than transactional.

[vandervampz]

[OC WIP] and somewhat of a lore dump

Back to drawing vampires, with my newest oc Altan, he's a very old vampire tho doesn't look it at all, his origins are a bit hazy as the the world at the time of his life was, he was born around the 4th century and had lived to see the roman empire fall, mostly since his ancestry is from both the Goths and the Huns, more specifically his parents. Con of living so long is that you start to forget, he no longer remembers his native language for example so he could not tell you more about the Goths nor the Huns than your average history book

And we also have his lovely girlfriend Leanora, an Austrian lady with roots in France living during the times of the kingdom of Slavonia, she is not of noble blood however her family had gotten ownership of quite a bit of land through feudalism a few centuries back because her great something grandfather was a knight and vassal to an influential figure, she gets turned into a vampire later on, however not by Altan

[hb-writes]

The Keeper

Summary: 1925 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. Clara may not think she needs a keeper, but she'll always have one regardless.

Characters: Isiah Jesus & Clara Shelby (OC)

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Comfy-vember 2024 Masterlist

—

Clara ignored the throbbing pain in her ankle, most of her weight resting on her good leg and her crutches as she reached for a book two shelves up. 

“All these years and you’re still sneaking your brother’s books, eh?” 

Clara stumbled at the interruption, both her crutches and the book she had been reaching for clattering to the floor as she twisted around to find Isiah there leaning against the door frame, a smirk playing on his lips.

Clara sighed, her hand firmly gripping on the edge of the bookshelf as she steadied herself, balancing on one foot.  

“I’m allowed to read what I wish now, Isiah,” she offered, a fond smile on her face as Isiah pushed off the door frame and crossed the room, leaning down to pick up the book when he reached her side.

He hummed in acknowledgment as he handed her the book. “You’re not allowed on that ankle though, are you, love?”

Isiah didn't wait for a response, using Clara’s moment of distraction as she tried to come up with a clever retort to sweep her up into his arms and take the few steps to the sofa. 

“I was—” Clara let out a huff as Isiah dropped her down on the sofa. “—fine. My ankle is fine, Isiah.” 

Isiah hummed again as he elevated Clara’s legs, slipping beneath them so he could settle her feet in his lap. 

“This one looks a bit swollen,” he answered as he studied the offending ankle. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Clara quipped, trying unsuccessfully to pull her foot back from Isiah’s inspection. “And it’s not swollen.” 

“No?” Isiah asked, his hands idly rearranging her feet to better compare, a sudden hiss coming from Clara’s lips as his fingers grazed the offending ankle. “Seems like you’ve been up straining it more than you’ve been resting it.”

“I have not—”

“That’s not what Frances says,” Isiah answered. “I thought the doctor put you on bedrest?” 

“I don’t recall him specifying anything beyond resting,” she answered. “And I have been resting. All day long, in fact. So much so that now I’m terribly bored.”

“Ah yes, you've been resting so much that you’ve somehow found yourself down in your brother’s office.”

“I was looking for a new book,” Clara answered, waving the book in question in her hand. 

“You sure you weren’t looking for those books over there?” Isiah nodded toward the stack of accounting books on Tommy’s desk.

“Just this one,” Clara answered.

"So if I went to check, I wouldn't see any new in the ledger?" he asked.

Clara tried to scoot herself to sit up straight and pull her legs out of Isiah's hold, but he stopped her, holding Clara's feet firmly in his lap. 

"I only came down for the book," she answered as she gave up on getting away from him. It was technically the truth. She had come down for the book, scooting down the main stairs on her bottom in order to get from her bedroom to the first floor. She'd only remembered the ledgers were there while scooting between the fourth and fifth steps. "And before you ask, I only came down by myself because no one was around."

Both of Isiah's eyebrows rose as he snorted. “Well now you have your book, so I guess you can stay put right here. If you need something else, I can—”

“If I need something, I have crutches and I can get it myself.” 

“Your crutches are on the other side of the room, love,” he answered. “If you need to go anywhere, I’ll be taking you. You're meant to be off your feet.” 

Clara scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest. “And see I thought you stopped by because you missed my company, Is.”

Isiah snorted. “I’m here because you don’t seem to listen to anyone but me, and even then, it's only after a fight.”

“I don’t need a keeper.” 

“Tommy says you do,” Isiah offered, continuing on before Clara could interrupt. “And so does Aunt Pol.” 

Clara huffed, her eyes rolling as she handed over the book and leaned back against a throw pillow, making herself comfortable. “Well, you best make yourself useful while you’re here, keeper boy.”

Isiah opened the book and didn’t bother arguing with her. He just started reading, unsurprised to find it was one of Tommy’s books on psychology, a topic Clara had been reading more and more on recently though it didn’t particularly interest Isiah.

He read a few pages, his attentions focused solely on the pages before finally stealing a glance at Clara, the features of her face already smooth and relaxed as she dosed, finally at rest for what he imagined was the first time all day. Noticing Clara was asleep, Isiah set the book aside. He knew he should take her up to bed, but he knew that if he did so, it would mean the end of their evening together. 

If Isiah put Clara to bed properly now, it would mean leaving her to find himself a spot in one of the guest rooms. It would mean he wouldn't see her until morning.

That was how things usually went when he visited Arrow House. Usually, those conditions—namely, the condition of him sleeping down the hall—didn’t much bother him, but Isiah wouldn’t be able to look after her that way. He wouldn’t be right there if Clara needed him, and some part of him worried that she might need him. Or maybe some part of him just hoped she might need him. Hoped he could help.

Either way, Isiah decided not to carry Clara up to bed. He just leaned back against the sofa instead and closed his eyes, his breathing growing long and steady as it matched the cadence of Clara’s breaths at the other end of the couch…

The light of dawn was just peeking through the windows of Tommy’s office by the time Isiah woke, a fond smile on Clara’s face as she studied him over the top of her book under a bit of lamp light.

“Mornin', love,” Isiah said as he stretched out, careful of the feet that still rested in his lap. 

"Mornin', keeper boy," she answered. "There's tea and biscuits if you'd like some."

Isiah glanced at the tray on the coffee table, a deep sigh coming through his lips as he glanced at Clara, the crutches that had been across the room the night before now settled beside her on the floor.

"And how precisely did that tray get up here from the kitchens?"

Clara shrugged, reaching out for a biscuit before answering. "I suppose we'll never know since my dutiful keeper fell asleep."

—

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Comfy-vember 2024 Masterlist

[no1tolerateitfan]

got lovestruck went straight to my head...

────˚₊⋅ ୨୧ ⋅₊˚────

welcome to my girlblog!

colette , fifteen (taylor's version) , january capricorn , she/her , american-french-spanish , tennis , soccer , estj , pinterest girlie , city girl , cabin 10 , ravenclaw , thought daughter , hector forts wife actually

im a girl who loves...

pasta , shoes , fancy dresses , swans , jane austen , fashion , affirmations , grwms , hector fort , fruit salads , history , rome , mason thames , christmas , picnics , brandy melville , spain , navy blue , pink , snow , music , reading , winter , ivy leagues , fc barcelona , evermore , romcoms , coffee , emma chamberlain , models , concerts , any march , period films , the idea of motherhood , adam brody , traveling , brunettes , vogue magazine , nyt games , staying in , autumn , birthday parties , rhode , my family , the sturniolo triplets , france , doing my hair , learning new words , making new friends , nara smith , daydreaming , piercings , my boyfriend , being on dnd , shopping , matcha , setting goals , vanilla everything , summer roberts , real estate , concerts , stuffed animals , girlbloggers , healthy lifestyle , makeup , flowers , animals , halloween , starbucks , early mornings , subdued<3

fangirl favorites

spotify deep dive;

gracie abrams , taylor swift , olivia rodrigo , sabrina carpenter , chappell roan , madison beer , lana del rey , clairo , billie eilish , lizzy mcalpine , noah kahan , maisie peters , laufey , role model , phoebe bridgers , harry styles , reneé rapp , mitski , tate mcrae , cas , paramore , boygenius , beabadoobee , niall horan , conan gray , billy joel , the neighbourhood , fleetwood mac , ethel cain , marley brown , arctic monkeys , abba , the cranberries , alessi rose , mazzy star , zach bryan , chris stapleton , ariana grande , avril lavigne , mckenna grace<3

film files;

little women , la la land , the princess diaries , lady bird , 10 things i hate about you , 13 going on 30 , pretty woman , 27 dresses , the devil wears prada , scream , when harry met sally , call me by your name , 500 days of summer , how to lose a guy in 10 days , notting hill , runaway bride , clueless , priscilla , a rainy day in new york , midnight in paris , corpse bride , the perks of being a wallflower , black swan , dead poets society , harry potter , narnia , enola holmes , beautiful boy , pride and prejudice , the notebook , the proposal , mamma mia , dirty dancing , grease , the parent trap , white chicks , ella enchanted , sixteen candles , she's the man , miss congeniality , my girl , the virgin suicides , the edge of seventeen , the amazing spiderman , mean girls , legally blonde , thirteen , breakfast at tiffany's , girl, interrupted , twilight , uptown girls , star wars , heathers , old disney<3

tv show archive;

grey's anatomy , gossip girl , gilmore girls , the oc , one tree hill , one day , friends , derry girls , baby , pretty little liars , anne with an e , how i met your mother , the office , criminal minds , supernatural , tsitp , bones , the flash , outer banks , suits , stranger things , you , the crown , emily in paris , satc , agggtm , jane the virgin , the vampire diaries , scream queens , supergirl , killing eve , glee , teen wolf , b99 , boy meets world , dawsons creek , smallville<3

────˚₊⋅ ୨୧ ⋅₊˚────

please please please reach out to me if we have the same interests , need to chat , or wanna be moots, i love meeting new ppl and being able to interact with you guys. my sideblog is @vani11alattes , if you wanna check it out! xoxo💗

!! dni if you are nsfw , 18+ , a mature themed blogs , racist , homophobic , misogynistic , and rude. this is a safe space for myself and others, do NOT ruin it by being oppressive !!

^if you are over the age of 18 and a girlblogger you are exempt from this

i am catholic , pro-palestine , and do not support russia. i don't typically talk about these topics, but if you don't agree with my views and beliefs , simply do not interact with me. thank you!

[hey-heigo]

oh yeah i saw your reblog of togami fun fact and i think i followed you because you chew on him so well. do you have posts of your thoughts on togami's backstory? (you can answer privately btw)

i straight up don't remember if i've ever posted in length about my byakuya backstory headcanons (if i ever did they'd be catalogued under '#my thoughts' probably, that's the tag i use for my fandom posts) but! just for you i will list a few that i have off of the top of my head

i liked the concept of the togami novel and ended up perceiving the heir struggle as like. not a necessarily organized competition (what with heir prospectives trying to assassinate each other or otherwise blackmail, threaten, or force each other out of the running) but more a survival challenge with occasional tests of cleverness, strength, etc. and byakuya managed to win by manipulation and sheer force of will, and doing things that might be considered 'underhanded' or 'shameful' (see: polaris p polanski) -> testament to ambition

byakuya says something cringe in thh like 'im perfect in every way. wits, ability, and body' which always pissed me off but as a result i ended up seeing him as like. above average in athletics, maybe good agility and reaction time? and capable of self-defense, but definitely nowhere near professional levels, and not in a way that's obvious from looking at him

re: physical ability and 'perfection', i don't think he's an 'ultimate' anything aside from 'ultimate progeny'. like he's not the ultimate stock-broker or the ultimate viola-player, but he can do both things pretty well. more of a jack-of-all-trades master-of-none kind of talent. maybe that eats at him a little, the fact that he won't ever be truly outstanding in one single field until he becomes togami head

also re: physical ability, he gets his blue eyes from his mother's side, so he's more sensitive to light. but his mild near-sightedness and need for corrective lenses is from his father's side. he doesn't know this though, so he blames his mother's genetic for all of it

he was planning to get lasik after becoming head of the family but. well. lol

he's half-french. his mother is french. i dont think ive ever posted about mamagami but ive definitely made mention of her in my fic, though at this point she's more of an oc than anything since there's like, no canon info about her at all. but she's a french sculptor who did not want a child and does not want any relation to the togami family other than having them as like. art clients. a cool lady very dedicated to her profession and could have been the ultimate sculptor, but kind of a emotionally neglectful mother ngl

there probably is some more canon info on papagami , aka kijo togami's character but i haven't really bothered looking for it. instead i made him into a sad little man who kind of hates his role as togami head and would've preferred a more mundane life (like as an architect - i actually did make a post about this somewhere), but he won his generation's heir competition because he felt like he had to, not because he necessarily wanted to. for reasons yet unsaid

byakuya spent the first part of his vulnerable youth being emotionally neglected at his mother's villa/art studio in france (hence the bilingualism hinted in the canon). when he left to join the heir competition after one too many assassination attempts he got one of his mom's business partners and former exes (a guy named 'polanski') to shelter him

byakuya's impressions of his parents: his mom sucks (fair i suppose) and his dad lacks real ambition and isn't suited to his role. or at least, he could be surpassed very easily. byakuya plans to make himself the greatest heir ever seen because of his shit parent combo

byakuya's known pennyworth the butler since birth. i have this idea that each togami kid gets just one togami family servant to help shape them into their roles. pennyworth happens to be the oldest of the roster but also the most experienced, and is kind of a shifty old man (i.e: very cunning and more loyal to the family than the child he's been assigned to, though that changes as byakuya gets older)

byakuya's also probably a girl and bisexual but he''s trying to take over the world through his shitty family's conglomerate and then survive a murder game apocalypse so she doesn't really care about that rn

[postcards-from-richard-nixon]

Secretary Elizabeth Cochrane Hamilton (1760-1839).

Due to the popular demand of all 3 of my fans here is Miss Cochrane, my AmRev/antebellum oc. It's set in the world "All Are Created Equal" I made with @chpxcrwy where basically women's political participation is enshrined in the constitution and follows the women within in. Miss Cochrane was a secretary under Benjamin Franklin and Charles Thomson, a long serving senator and James Madison's secretary of state, and did lots to ensure women's political and fiscal rights are upheld.

I have got a LOT of stuff on her so this is like an introduction master post somewhat to all the main characters and the general timeline. Strap in tight everyone! Miss Cochrane is a messy bitch and there's lots of people to introduce ❤️❤️ check out the full lore under the cut!!

Lord and Lady Cochrane

First to the chopping block are her parents, Lord and Lady Cochrane. Cochrane was born in Scotland to well off parents, but she never got along with them. She was interested in philosophy, economics and politics which enraged her father who was a banker, philosopher and merchant. He tried to marry her off very young, but she was incredibly resistant to all attempts and it made him look bad. So when she was 15, in order to not let her ruin the family name any more, Lady Cochrane contacted her cousin Catherine Ortiz, a wealthy New York socialite, to let Cochrane stay with her for a period of time to find a husband. Lord Cochrane also wrote to his friend Benjamin Franklin, and asked him to keep an eye on the papers to make sure that Cochrane didn't end up in them. Franklin laughed it off at the time, but Lord Cochrane's fears would go on to be true

Captain and Mrs Ortiz

Catherine Ortiz married Felipe Ortiz against the wishes of Felipe's Catholic family, who promptly disowned him after the marriage. He served in the army in Louisiana before moving to New York for speculation, which he grew fabulously wealthy in. This wealth proved to Catherine's father he was a suitable match, and they married. Felipe is often away however, leaving Catherine to build a name for herself in New York as the feminist socialite who hosts parties and, if the rumours are true, revolutionary patriot meetings. Cochrane is sent to Catherine in 1775, and they hit it off very well. Catherine introduces her to New York bigwigs like Robert Livingston and Phillip Schuyler, giving her connections to the new second continental congress. It's on the streets of New York she sees a small man yelling about the patriot cause, and she confronts him by asking about the women's role. He dismisses her, saying women had no role in revolution. This caused a verbal debate so severe she ended up in the papers, which Franklin promptly found out. Franklin then invited Cochrane to stay with him in Philadelphia. That man she debated? Was Alexander Hamilton ❤️ and it would NOT be the last she would see of him

Alexander and Phillip Hamilton

Cochrane, when arriving in Philadelphia to meet with Franklin, begged him over and over to visit congress with him. He eventually relents on the pretense that she keeps his notes for him, which she happily does. Her presence is a bit of a scandal, but her enthusiastic nature makes her quite beloved amongst some of the congressmen, and she was already acquainted with some of the New York delegates. She gets very good at her job, to the point that once Franklin leaves for France, he leaves his Philadelphia residence in her care and she goes on to work as Charles Thomson's secretary instead, where she dictates correspondence between Congress and Washington. She ends up writing to a very familiar name: Alexander Hamilton. The guy she verbally tore apart in New York. However they find out they have lots in common, and they eventually became friends.

He quickly gains feelings and after a couple years he proposes. She rejects him, since she feels nothing for him romantically, and explains that she doesn't feel for men romantically at all. He understands. In 1779, he tried proposing again, asking if they wanted a political partnership marriage rather than a romantic one. This is the time Franklin asks her to come to France to act as his secretary as his grandson took an apprenticeship in Switzerland and is no longer able to help. Cochrane promised an answer when she returned from France, and while she was in France, she absolutely lived it up. By the time the Treaty of Paris rolled around, Hamilton asked again. This time, she agreed, and returned to America to marry, and resume her position with Charles Thomson in the new Congress. This is also the time she cuts off her parents for good.

When they got married, Catherine had died in childbirth two years earlier giving birth to Felipe jnr. Captain Felipe, in mourning, developed lung cancer and died shortly after Hamilton and Cochrane married. Felipe wrote in his will giving Cochrane guardianship of Felipe Jnr, as well as one of their smaller properties in New York and a small sum of money. They took in Felipe Jnr and anglicised his name to be Phillip. They were a perfect nuclear family to those around them, but despite their political marriage, they raise Phillip well.

Cochrane becomes a Federalist senator in 1789, when Hamilton gets his cabinet post. Together, they work on stuff like the bank, credit and women's fiscal and education rights to be passed through. They're a real team, but when Hamilton publishes the Reynolds Pamphlet, he does so without consulting Cochrane. Cochrane is appalled he'd make such a dangerous PR move without consulting her, and they distance from one another politically. Her relationships in Congress break down, and it begins her push away from the Federalists and towards the democratic republicans. Once Phillip dies in a duel however, they come back together and live out their time together until Hamilton's death in 1804. That same year, Cochrane goes on to join the democratic republicans

The Madisons

Cochrane was friends with James Madison way back when he collaborated with Hamilton on the federalist papers. She was also friends with Dolley, and when they got married, she continued to be friends with them both even after Hamilton fell out with Madison. Dolley and Cochrane also engage in a long affair together, consider it friends with benefits, and because of that she enjoys strong political benefits with Madison and other members of the democratic republicans including Thomas Jefferson and James Monroe (both who will turn up later on). Cochrane and Dolley ended their affair by the time Cochrane was secretary of state under Madison, but they remained firm friends all the way up to Cochrane's death.

As Secretary of State, Cochrane was pro-war during the war of 1812, and worked with Monroe and Dolley to push hard against the British. This was also partially due to her brother, Alexander Cochrane, being a Tory politician in parliament at the time, and was writing slander about her and the war in the press over there. This is when the title of First Spouse becomes a political position, with Cochrane writing "a defence of secretary d. madison" to defend Dolley against critics who said her heavy interference with political matters was unconstitutional. The supreme court ruled in Dolley's favour, and the First Spouse went on to be an advisory role in the cabinet.

After the war of 1812, she supported Monroe in his bid for the presidency, supported the bank and retired once Madison's term ended. She spends the last few years of her life writing for the New York Post, supporting the Whigs and Henry Clay in his bid for Presidency and in her final year, she took a tour around the frontier and met a young Arabella Lincoln. She gave the majority of her material possessions to her maid, Margaret O'Neill, personal papers to Dolley, political papers to the library of Congress and her properties to the ladies' anti-slavery society, as well as smaller portions of money to her sister Ingrid Cockburn and her nephews Andrew and Duncan Cockburn.

Martha Jefferson and Eliza Monroe Hays

Cochrane was rather promiscuous, and conducted multiple affairs. They were not secret to Hamilton, who consented as well as she consented to his own affairs, but they were a secret to Phillip and to the public. She had many, notably Dolley Madison who I've already talked about, but also with Martha Jefferson and Eliza Monroe Hays.

Martha and Cochrane first met while Cochrane was in Paris. Nothing happened since Martha was only 12 but they reconnected in 1804 when Cochrane joined the democratic republican party and hosted a ball inviting prominent members of the party to celebrate her switch. Their relationship wasn't like with Dolley, it was heavily romantic and changed Cochrane to be a more modest, less rambunctious figure and to settle down. They were planning on moving in together after Martha divorced her estranged husband, but Jefferson found their letters and threatened her life, so Cochrane promised not to contact Martha in exchange for his silence on the affair.

Cochrane was still reeling emotionally after Martha, but Eliza was the one to pursue Cochrane. Eliza was different to Martha, she was high society, very stuck up but also a sucker for scandal. She and her had a brief but fiery relationship that ended in heartbreak. Eliza was just looking for fun and Cochrane hoped for something like Martha again, so neither got what they wanted and they parted on bad terms. They were a bit too similar anyway. After Eliza and her broke it off in 1817, she wouldn't take another long term lover for the rest of her life.

Alexander Cochrane and Ingrid Cockburn

Alexander and Ingrid are Cochrane's younger siblings. She grew up with Ingrid, but never really knew Alexander. This shows, considering that she would continue consistent correspondence with Ingrid, the only one of her family she kept in contact with, and become bitter enemies with Alexander. Ingrid looks a lot like her father, whereas Alexander and Cochrane look like their mother.

Ingrid was the perfect daughter, who excelled in performing arts, socialising and etiquette, seeming to fit into any situation put into with elegance and ease. She was her mother's favourite. Cochrane was always compared to her, which grew a little resentment when they were young, but they put that aside and grew a strong friendship outside of that. Ingrid would get married off at age 18 to a well connected and wealthy man called Andrew Cockburn, where they would have two sons, Andrew and Duncan. Cockburn was a merchant, and often would take his family across the world to India, Europe and the Americas on business. This meant Cochrane got to see her sister every now and again, which strengthened their bond. She was the only family member present at Cochrane's private funeral. She would be the last Cochrane sibling alive, dying in 1844. Her eldest, Andrew, then was given the title of Lord Cochrane with the death of Alexander.

Alexander was his father's favourite, an unexpected pregnancy after years of trying for a boy, he was a bit sickly but idolised his father in everything. He had the best tutors growing up and had a brief but full military career in the navy before becoming an MP in 1790. He married a woman called Mary Sinclair at his father's wishes to see him settle down, but they didn't know one another and grew estranged, leading to a divorce with no children in 1806. He was a radical Pittite, and maintained a close partnership with William Pitt themselves. Historians say they were best friends after all. Wink wink. He supported Pitt in just about everything until his death and he himself helped fund his funeral and pay off his debts. Then when the war of 1812 came around he was very bitter against his sister, since he was extremely against women's enfranchisement, which was a movement that was beginning to take precedent in the UK. They hated each other, but he could not convince his colleagues to reconquer the 13 colonies, so he backed down. He left his post in parliament in 1814, and began to write to support himself before he died of a stroke in 1823. He gave all his belongings to his nephews Andrew and Duncan.

The Schuyler Sisters

"but Hamilton can't marry Cochrane!!! What about Eliza??" I am so glad you asked. Eliza in this world gets into a big fight with her father, Phillip Schuyler, over having a crush/relationship with a British captain. When she finds out Angelica is planning to elope with her British husband, she blackmails her to bring her along with her to try and find a husband. Angelica agrees, and after moving about a bit, they eventually settle in Paris then London, and Eliza meets and marries Marquis Anne-César de La Luzerne. They become a socialising sisterly pair and make a name for themselves for their lavish parties, extensive political connections and intelligence. They were also scandalous for supporting women's suffrage in America, and in 1790, would rebuke traditional gender roles and Rousseau's work in their book "A Treatise on the Rights of the European Woman". They become famous scholars, supported by their husbands, and would go on to publish more and advocate for women's enfranchisement. Angelica's husband, John Church, was also a member of Parliament, and would go on to support various bills that expanded women's rights. Their pen name for their writings was "The Schuyler Sisters". No I'm not sorry.

Thank you for sticking with this for so long, I hope to post more about her when I have the time. As a reward for making it through here's a meme

[faineantf]

hello mutual i drew your oc

if it’s not accurate i apologize but i adore frances and felix so much :P

DO NOT APO;LOGIZE SHE'S LITE_RALLY SO CUTE IGNMFUOD??'!'! DUDE SHE LOOKS SO CUTE IM GOING NUCLCEAR ohmufod?'??????¡ the old lady ... she is real... i love how you drew her hair too oh my god im genuinely tearing up!';_;

[starcrossedjedis]

Look, I never really got emotionally attached to Bridgerton as a show, which is also why I never went and read the books, but the sneaky peeks these days remind me how very attached I was to my three "Spinster Society" OCs and their storylines 🥹

Ms. Kitty Turner - illegitimate bastard daughter of the late Lord Bridgerton's brother, who - following a string of rather sad events - happened to grow up with her flock of picture perfect Bridgerton cousins.

When it's time for her cousin Daphne to debut, her cousin Anthony as new head of the family makes the decision not to let Kitty debut alongside his sister.

Worried both about what the merciless gossip machine of the ton might do to her and about what such a ruckus could do to Daphne's prospects, he thinks it best to keep her on the periphery of things.

Alas, Queen Charlotte has other ideas ("I believe we are missing a young lady today...") and commands Kitty debuts along with the others.

The young lady in question however is less than thrilled. She had been looking forward to spending the season in peace and with her two best friends. Learning that Poppy is in France and won't be joining them is bad enough, now she has to prance around like a show pony and make nice with spoiled young men who either wouldn't court her even if their life depended on it or who see her as nothing but an exotic notch to put on her belt.

And when it seems that the rakish Duke of Hastings is making the moves on her very innocent cousin, Kitty fears that this season she really has her work cut out for her...

(In which the scene in the maze really is just a misunderstanding and a certain someone declares his intention to marry a certain bastard in front of the Queen and a crowd of people expecting him to propose to The Diamond™️. Also no one is being raped in this one and pulling out is not contraception, thank you ☝️)

Ms. Poppy Featherington (yes, I know Poppy is also an abbreviation for Penelope shhhht 🤫) - the oldest Featherington daughter used to be her mother's favourite, mostly because the ton was certain that out of all the sisters she was the most likely to strike a notable match. Her mother even harboured hopes that she might be the one to finally tie that inseparable bond with the Bridgertons, when her eldest daughter stroke up a surprising friendship with the future Viscount.

But following her debut season - a season without a match, might we add - she did not return to the ton the following year, chosing instead to study in France, according to her mother.

When she returns for what is supposed to be the season of Miss Edwina Sharma, she is a changed woman - earnest and almost reclusive, without patience for her mother's meddling to intervene with Anthony's and Edwina's budding courtship and opening up only to her best friend Kitty - the new Duchess of Hasting - and her cousin Charlie.

But even they aren't privy to her biggest secret - and the real reason she was missing from the merry and the crazy of the ton for so long...

Mr. Charlie Featherington - cousin of the Featherington bunch, oldest member of the "Spinster Society" and a definite favourite of the ton in recent seasons.

Alas, where in the first few years people were aghast as to why someone like him - handsome and kind, with a sweet smiley and dreamy eyes - hadn't found himself a wife yet, more recently hushed rumours have been starting to circulate behind close doors as to why the young man might not be in a hurry to marry.

Benedict Bridgerton - fully occupied by his family's own dramas and scandals and thus blissfully unaware of most of the ton's secrets, lies and cause for rage - is happy to find a likeminded friend in passionate writer and artistic soul Charlie, as well as someone who is not afraid to be frank about his opinions on Benedict's art.

But soon Benedict sees reason to question Charlie's feelings for him - and yet more importantly, the way he feels about the sweet, young man who seems to be so utterly at peace with the implications of living out his days a "Bachelor".

[konstantynowitz]

Unlikely OCs meeting:

Eglantine Rosier (née Volant) and Ermesinda Lestrange.

How would that go?

Setting: Lestrange Manor, France, 1945

The once-majestic and illustrious manor of the extant French branch of the Lestrange family had become completely unrecognizable to its visiting occupants. The estate was seemingly now falling into ruin, with its towering spires and crumbling stone creating an eerie atmosphere around the property that no longer exuded its former beauty. The marble walls being once a brilliant white, were now dulled by layers of grime and creeping ivy. The grand oak doors, heavy and ornate, creak ominously as they swing open with the gentle pressure of Lady Yaxley’s hand, who could barely hear the whispered discussions going on between her brother Rodolfo and the banker regarding the estate’s assets from where they stood beside the carriage.

With a mournful, subtle shake of her head, Ermesinda stepped inside, letting the heavy doors close on her with a finality that echoed through the dimly lit foyer. Dust mites danced in the shafts of the light filtering through the grimy windows, illuminating the once-grand entry hall, now draped in shadows and neglect. The air was thick with dust and the scent of aged wood, with the grand chandeliers, now reduced to nothing but mere glass hanging from the ceiling with their candle wicks melted to ashen stubs.

Lady Yaxley remembered her family’s estate to be a beacon of opulence and grandeur, showcasing just how much wealth House Lestrange had in its coffers. As a child, the witch had wandered through its grand halls, marveling at the intricate tapestries, the polished marble floors, and the ancient portraits of her ancestors whose eyes seemed to follow her every move.

Now at the age of one and fifty, Ermesinda stood at the heart of her ancestral home for the first time in twenty-eight years, ever since the last ball held here for the day of her wedding. The memories of that evening clung to her like a bittersweet perfume, contrasting with the sharp reality that greeted her now—a manor steeped in silence and loss. Even now, she could still hear the orchestra play their soft symphonies while her husband guided her by the waist into the center of the ballroom where they were expected to dance, despite Ermesinda’s protests that she didn’t want to make a fool of herself by accidentally stepping on his foot; she wasn’t the greatest dancer, nor the most elegant bride.

In grief, the elderly witch stared beyond the boundaries of the manor’s foyer where corridors led inward, each holding to rooms that kept faded memories of her childhood. It was all almost too much for the woman to bear as she made her descent into the hall leading to the main sitting room in which she spent a lot of her time playing the pianoforte for her Aunt Jodelle.

Jodelle… The name echoed through Ermesinda’s mind like a haunting melody, such as the ones Orpheus would play in his mourning for Eurydice. It had only been two days since her aunt passed away, which had been the reason for her visit in the first place. It was now up to Ermesinda and her brother to see to it that all final arrangements were made as her last of kin, other than the late Madame’s granddaughter, Nozéa. Although the Lestrange siblings had only been distantly related to the Dowager Lady Lestrange, she had always treated them as if they were her own grandchildren, showering them with warm affections that even their own parents didn’t seem capable of giving.

With each step she took, the silence only grew louder once she reached the threshold of the sitting room, which only served to amplify the absence of her aunt’s reassuring presence, leaving a void that felt almost palpable. The familiar armchair, once occupied by her aunt, stood empty in a corner, its fabric slightly worn from years of use. Ermesinda’s heart ached at the sight, as memories flooded back—but she pushed them down, almost forcefully, knowing that she didn’t have the time to weep and reminisce on the past.

“Ermesinda?” called a familiar voice from another end of the sitting room. The voice was soft, almost like a breeze rustling through the leaves of Merlin’s Oak, but it sounded pained and pained and laced with unspoken sorrow.

It had been so quiet that Ermesinda had barely noticed another person was in the room with her, although this particular presence hadn’t been unexpected. A small smile crept onto the witch’s face as she lifted her head just a tad to meet the gaze of her dear cousin, Églantine. From where she stood, Ermesinda could already see the silver lining the younger woman’s blue-eyed gaze, which sent a pang of sadness to her heart. Lady Yaxley had already known Madame Rosier, alongside her brother Floxel, was to be joining the two siblings in order to oversee the estate’s finances and to grieve together over the loss of their beloved Jodelle.

“My dear, Etta, how are you fairing?” asked the Lestrange witch sympathetically, knowing that out of the two, it was Églantine who had borne the heavier burden of this devastating loss; Jodelle was her adoptive grandmother, after all.

Églantine could feel a lump form in her throat as she took a step toward her cousin, although still maintaining a reasonable distance between the two as to not feel overwhelmed by the swell of emotions threatening to spill over. She inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself, aware that she was a mere breath away from breaking down.

“I’m… holding on,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper, as she fought to keep her composure. The ache in her heart was so profound, but she kept herself held upright for the sake of her own dignity. “Just a bit… melancholy, is all.”

Ermesinda gave a gentle nod, trying to keep the air around them light as she asked, “And how are the children?” Her tone was warm and tender, an attempt to keep her cousin’s fragile state from spiraling further into despair. Églantine’s eyes flickered with a mix of sadness and gratitude, grateful for the distraction.

There was a moment of silence, which led Ermesinda to regret springing the question on Églantine so suddenly. Perhaps it was not wise to engage in such a discussion, especially with the knowledge that the Rosier siblings had been quite the trial for Églantine in the past years. Ermesinda did not wish to put strain on the younger Lady, who was already overwhelmed enough as it is.

“Étienne… he is restless,” Églantine replied just before her cousin could attempt to change the subject. Lady Rosier’s voice was tinged with a hint of exasperation as she spoke, but it had lightened in the passing seconds the words escaped her lips, much to Ermesinda’s relief. “He prefers galavanting around the streets of Nocturn Alley, making quite the spectacle of himself with his friends, your nephew Radolphus being amongst them.”

At the mention of her nephew’s name, Ermesinda stifled back a laugh and shook her head with affection and amusement. “Oh dear, I can only imagine the trouble those boys are getting into together,” she remarked, a smirk forming on her face as her remnants of grief began to dissipate.

“I swear,” Églantine began to say with an eye-roll and an exasperated sigh. “The next time Laurent gets a call from the Ministry saying that our son is on a 20,000-pound bail for charges of a first degree arson attempt on a Muggle-owned potions shop, I may as well just send him to Azkaban and throw away the key.”

Although the severity of Étienne’s antics hung heavily in the air, Ermesinda found herself only able to scoff at what she was being told. Of course, there was no hidden crevice in her heart that held any sympathy for Muggles, but for Étienne to risk his reputation only for the sake of some misguided thrill was utterly infuriating.

“And what about Druella?” Ermesinda said, knowing that diverting the conversation from Églantine’s “problem child” to her favorite child was the best card she had to play. “I’ve heard that she’s been excelling in her studies at Hogwarts and has even received an invitation to join the prestigious Dueling Club, has she not?”

At the mention of her daughter’s accomplishments, Églantine’s eyes flicker with pride as she nods in confirmation. “Yes, indeed. Druella has been doing very well, although I wish I could say the same for Céléase.”

Uh-oh. Ermesinda’s jaw lightly clenched at the name of Églantine’s youngest daughter, preparing herself for a long debrief of how Céléase somehow managed to blend in into the background, a shadow of her sister’s brilliance. “I suppose she is still struggling with her social duties?” Ermesinda prompted, bracing herself for the inevitable tirade about Céléase’s lack of progress in her seasonal debut as a young woman.

“She has yet to be called upon,” Églantine began, her voice dripping with disappointment. “Druella has been catching suitors like a fly trap left and right. Whilst it seems my other daughter, according to my brother, has not been visited by any promising young wizards at all.”

Ermesinda had caught wind of little Lissie’s struggle from the tabloids alone when she made her first introduction into society last year. Although she was only eleven, Églantine had already started introducing her daughter to social events and gatherings, hoping to polish her into a proper young lady. Even though Lady Rosier had not made her intention vocally clear, it was apparent to her cousin that she might be hoping for potential marriage arrangements to be offered to young Céléase before a proper courting could commence when she came of age.

“Lissie is only but a child, Etta. Let her grow into herself first.” Ermesinda consoled gently, trying to get Églantine to see reason. “Perhaps by her sixteenth year she will have suitors loitering at your doorstep at every hour of the day.”

“Yes… yes I suppose you’re right,” Églantine said solemnly, her gaze drifting from Ermesinda to the unoccupied armchair that Jodelle had once sat in during the days she still breathed. With a shaky exhale, her eyelids fluttered closed as if she were trying to convince herself that if she wished hard enough, Jodelle would return, bringing with her the wisdom Églantine so desperately needed from her grandmother. “It’s hard to move forward when the past lingers like this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Ermesinda nodded in agreement, her dark eyes landing on the empty armchair that was blanketed in a light coat of dust. “I know….”

I tried my best 😭 this is the first time I’ve ever posted a piece of my writing publicly. Sorry if things are a bit all over the place!

This little story was written with the help of @theblackswan-and-thewhiterose!

Ermesinda Lestrange is an original character of @knights-0f-walpurgis.

Floxel Volant is an original character of @lazyreinelle.

Céléase Rosier is an original character of @harbinger-0f-spring.

[msweebyness]

Weeby, Sparky, and Artzy’s Code Names Guide!!!

Hey, y’all! This is a helpful little tool for you guys! Whenever we’re talking about characters in the context of our AU’s, we use code names to distinguish! Here’s a guide to those! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

Updates will be added as new content is released!

KEY:

Class of Heroes

Class of Villainy

Monstrous Youths

Ghoul Squad

DC/Arkham

Marvel

MiracOlympus

Animal AU

Akuma AU

BATRACULOUS

LaNd BeFoRe TiMe Au

Barbie AU

(Extras: Were!(Name)= WereMiraculous, Phantom!(Name)= Phantoms of Paris, Shady!(Name)= Shadyverse)

CHARACTERS:

Marinette: Marilan, Mari De Vil, Maridoll, Marideath, Iron Gal, Jestress, Heranette, Maribug, Miss Fortune, LADYBUG BAT, Princess Mariliese, DuCkYnEtTe

Adrien: Adripunzel, Jafardrien, Average Adrien, Haydrien, AdriQuin, Thunder, Zeusdrien, AdriCat, Chat Blanc, CAT BAT, JulAdrien

Alya: TiAlya, YzAlya, SpectrAlya, Alynis, Whirlwind, Enigma, ThemAlya, Alyfox, Lady WiFi, REPORTER BAT, Alyarinne

Nino: Fairy GodBro, Honest Nino, FrankenNino, Nino Jekyll, Mr. Marvel, Mudslide, DioNyno, Shellno, Bubbler, SONIC BAT

Chloe: Chloéstasia, Lady Chloe, Chloepatra, Chlophaba, Diamond Demon, Dagger, Chlolios, ChloBee, Queen Wasp, Chloetta, CHARISMA BAT

Sabrina: Sabrinocchio, Madame Sabrina, Zombrina, Invisibrina, Duality, Miss-Appear, Hestibrina, SabriHound, Vanisher, SUPPORT BAT

Max: Maxiro, Maxdrome, Max Steam, Maxtian, Nuit Panther, Max Luthor, AtheMax, Ponyax, Gamer, TECH BAT

Kim: Kimules, Kimton, WereKim, Kimzilla, Croc King, Spider-Bro, PoseiKim, MonKim, Dark Cupid, Prince Kimiel, POWER BAT

Alix: Aladdix, Alix Khan, Alix Gorgon, Winlix, Caracal, Widow, Hermlix, Bunlix, Timebreaker, PenelAlix, SPEED BAT, CeRaLiX

Mylene: Snow Mylene, Mylensula, MyLeaf, Mylentasma, Nightmare Weaver, Bullseye, Demelene, Mousylene, Horrificator, Rolene, EMPATHY BAT

Ivan: QuasiIvan, Ivan Oogie, Ivan Bumble, Ivan Kong, Venom Bringer, Capitaine France, HephIvan, Oxvan, Stoneheart, Prince AntonIvan, STRENGTH BAT

Rose: Roselle, QRC (Queen Rose Candy), SkeleRose, Rose Frankenteen, Thorn, Miss Marvelous, AphroRose, Rose Piggy, Princess Fragrance, Rosiana, PeTrOsE, LOVE BAT

Juleka: JuleBeast, Juleficent, Draculeka, Jubella, Feline Shadow, Doctor Odd, Julemis, JuleClaw, Reflekta, Julexa, STEALTH BAT, ChOmPlEkA

Nathaniel: Sleeping Nath, Nath of Hearts, Nath Goyle, Nathra, Colossus, Rage, Nathdes, Goathaniel, Evillustrator, Nathpunzel, ARTIST BAT, NaThFoOt

Marc: MarcElsa, King Marc, MothMarc, Marcoyle, Myzan’r, Discord, Marcsephone, Marckerel, Reverser, Prince StefMarc, SpArC, WRITER BAT

Zoe: CinderZoe, Zoe of the Southern Isles, NeferZoe, Rouge, Inevitable, Zolene, ZoWasp, Sole Crusher, Princess Zonika, PUNK BAT

Luka: Maestro Luka, DiabLuka, VampLuka, DracuLuka, Shadow, Chi Punch, ApolLuka, Snakeka, Silencer, MUSIC BAT

Kagami: Kagamerida, Kagami Yu, DracoGami, Kagami Hollow, Naginata, Kamakiri Kānjo, KagamAres, Komodogami, Riposte, PRECISION BAT

Ondine: AriOndine, LeOnDine, Ondine Blue, LagoOndine, Sea Enchantress, Shield Maiden, Onditrite, HerOndine, Syren, Ondette, SWIMMER BAT

Aurore: BlueRore, MimRore, Astrarore, Whirlpool, Geode, Zephrore, Swanrore, WEATHER BAT

Mireille: Miremba, Mireides, SliMireille, Echo, Multiply, Boreille, Mireillnguin, MOON BAT

Jean: Jeanzco, Jeanatoa, OperJean, Spellbound, Mariner, ThalJean, Jeacaw, SONG BAT

Lacey: Lacey Bell, Lacey Gothel, Flamecey, Wildmorph, Lightning Run, Nikecey, Cheecey, PARKOUR BAT

Denise: Demolition Denise, Doctor Cabello, Denisquatch, Wonderer, Battlemonger, Gaianise, Bisonise, BUFF BAT

Simon: Simon Pan, Minister O’Connor, SiClops, Speedster, Crimson Warlock, SimOuranos, Simval,TECHNO BAT

Cosette: Robette, Cosettewether, CosetTaur, Voltage, Deathcall, Irisette, Aidette, Hedgette, INCOGNITO BAT

Ismael: IsmaGenie, IsmaScar, IsmaCat, Krypto-Kid, Bizarre, IsmaPan, Ismacoon, MAGIC BAT

Reshma: Reshmabela, Reshma Hook, Spider Resh, Sapphire Beetle, Lady Oc, Nyxma, Reshmaphant, GEM BAT

Austin A: Austin LeBouff, Austin Whistler, Austin Gorgon, Star Quartz, They, Ausglaia, PeacAustin, GLAM BAT

Austin B: Austin Deavor, Austin McSkirmish, Austin Trollson, Roulette, Mystic, Mnemostin, Austicoot, BAT BITE

Austin Q: Austin of Motanui, Austin Glomgold, Austin Screams, Cosmic Lord, Mako, Tethstin, Sealstin, SHARK BAT

Austin T: JasAustin, Sheriff Austin, Austin Grim, Jade Lantern, Lunar Soldier, Ausmonia, Deerstin, BAKE BAT

DJ: Collector, DJ Cipher, GJ, DJche, Malleable, Trash Panda, HyDJ, PRANK BAT

Spinelli: Spinelli Bunchoy, Spinelli De Spell, Spinellisk, E Voila, Uomo di Sabia, Terpsinelli, Spinellupine, GRACE BAT

Victoria: Lightning LaSalle, Vicnifico, Mertoria, Inferno, Electra, Anantoria, Vicko, HOOP BAT

Gerard: GerEVE, Dr. Grundlershmirtz, Marsh Gerard, Voltaic, Professor Chill, Coerard, Chimprard, GENIUS BAT

Mindy: Mindy P. Sullivan, Mindy Sanderson, MindOgre, Buteos, They-Hunk, PolyhyMindy, Mindary, HARMONY BAT

Gia: Sergeant Griswold, Gigo, Jersey Gia, Peridot Shot, Blizzard, GiAlke, Giagle, G.I. BAT

Mason: Agent M, Emperor Mason, Mason Bogie, Emperor, Ms. Extraordinary, Daskalson, Guinea Mason, INFO BAT

Rochelle: Clopchelle, Rocifer, Gnomechelle, Artemis, Chief, Rocheme, Molechelle, BLACKMAIL BAT

Lotta: Launchpad Jameson, Peg Leg Lotta, Faunta, Power Up, Harbinger, Lotbe, SquirreLotta, STUNT BAT

Kendra: Kendralice, Kaadra, Yowdra, Groove, Green Imp, Kendrotus, Lemundra, UPSIDE DOWN BAT

Ayesha: Ladysha, Zhan Ayesha, AyeshAngel, Heavenly, Rainbow Surfer, Euprosesha, Lionsha, SPIRIT BAT

Dot: Dot Thatch, Professor Dotigan, InvisiDot, Badass, Speck, Cliot, Dothog, SECRETARY BAT

Petra: Petra Porter, Petra Ratcliffe, Petracorn, Karma, Rascal, IaPetra, Petrobie, SKETCH BAT

Roxie: Roxgara, The Huntrex, Rocksie, Stellar, Infinite, Nemoxie, Rhinoxie, REBEL BAT

Anthony: SalAnthony, Anthony Boggs, DaemAnthony, Umbra, Bloodsucker, Anthonatos, Bathony, SHADOW BAT

Candace: Miss Candace, Lord Candace, Conjuring Candace, Equilibrium, Saber, Candomia, Canzelle, CHEER BAT

Eri: Eri Skellington, Queen Eri, KitsEri, Hex, Amethyst Witch, HecatEri, RavEri, MACABRE BAT

Staci: Rayci, Hoppci, Snakeci, See-You, The Master, StacErebus, Pandaci, COMBAT BAT

Margo: Fix-it Margo, Captain Margo, CalaMargo, Vanquisher, Fury, MargEos, Polar Margo, CRAFT BAT

Brecken: Brecken Hood, BreckEd, Brecken Horseman, Oak, Multiple, Cybelecken, Bullcken, CRITTER BAT

Soo-Yeon: Soo-Lin Lee, Soo-Toffeeon, Dokk-Yeon, Blood Bro, Magnetite, Soo-Eurus, Soo-Raffe, SNIPER BAT

Parker: Parker Hopps, Parker Loveberry, Pondker, K.O., Ares, ParKratos, ParkWolf, SOLDIER BAT

Aggie: GoGo Findlay, Agg'Du, Faegie, Platinum Tide, Specter, Atëgie, Aggiegator, SKATER BAT

Mona: Tow Mona, Chick Truffaut, Gryphona, Hurricane, Mind Warp, Monapheus, Slothna, DIRECTOR BAT

Evie: Evie Poppins, Princess Evy, SirEvie, Lady Mars, Screech, EratEvie, Eviegale, MELODY BAT

Eloise: Merloise, E.L.O.I.S.E., Roboise, Liz, Illuminate, Metoise, Armadilloise, MATH BAT

Anais: Anais Lemon, Yokais, Batnais, Gear, Critter, UrAnais, Owlnais, SCIENCE BAT

Jesse: Prince Jesse, JessEel, MAPT Jesse, The Weeping Boy, Jessemene, Midnight, MalevoLyricist, JesSheep, MANAGER BAT

Missy: Flounssy, MisShark, MAPT Missy, Rancor, Quick Fire, Misclepius, Lissy the Unicorn, Sharkssy, DIVER BAT

Lila: Lila De La Cruz, Lila Porter, Harpy Lila, Hell-La, Cerebral Queen, Mind Bend, LiEris, Foxla

Felix: Casslix, Felix Darling, Jack O’Ripper

Jess: Jessahontas, Deputy Jess, ThunderJess, Akicita Igmu, Grey Bat, Jesslanta, GREEN LANTERN

Fei: Fei Shang, Feisper, Chai Jun, Sonar, Feipolyta, BEAST GIRL

Socqueline: Socquelinace, Miss Soklinebryglk, Buzz, Socquelinacles, SPIDER-GIRL

Aeon: AEON-E, Deputy Aeon, A.E.O.N.(Adaptive EmotioIntelligent Organization Network), Swarm, Holo, Princess Aeon of Sparta, VISION

Lucien: Prince Lucien, HercLucien, Lucien Van Helsing, Gal-Yant, Vengeance, ZeLucien

Emani: Yosemite Pulateur, Emani White, Spyware, Violet Influence, Dolmani

Sasha: Sasha Oogie, Sasha Bumble, Frostbite, Eilethasha, Crystallight

Kiran: KirAnna, Prince Kiran, MothKiran, Aura, HypKiran, Sandboy

Bustier: Calinora, Fairyline, Empoustier, Witch Caline, Miss Mystery, Gorgana, Lachestier, Zombizou

Mendeliev: Yendeliev Sid, Fairy Godteacher, Headless Mendeliev, Witch Olga, Ant-Woman, The Professor, Atrodeliev, Kwami Buster

Winters: Winterfiki, Enchanters, Aswanters, Professor Polymorph, Threaded Thespian, Clothers

Grotke: Grotmore, Alonzo G. Muntz, GroTiger, Soulshock, Nocturne

Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[tarte-tropezienne]

My own Punch-Out!! OC-Glass Joe's maman, Genevieve

I really enjoyed writing Genevieve, so I had to illustrate her as well! She is essentially a middle-aged, female version of her son.

She was a really sweet Parisian lady who worked in a pâtisserie. She and her petit Joe were best friends, and she is the reason why he loves bread and coffee so much! She also inspired him to be proud of his homeland, hence why he sings "La Marseillaise" to himself in the ring. Representing France is very important to him.

She had a number of pet names for him, but petit faon (little fawn) was her favorite, since Joe looked -and still looks- so much like a baby deer.

She was killed in a car crash when Joe was nine, and his father left him shortly thereafter. He had felt unloved and empty since, but fortunately the rest of the WVBA is there to take care of him, especially his partner, Von Kaiser. Everyone agrees that there is something melancholic and run-down about Joe, but only Von Kaiser and Little Mac know that Joe was a lonely orphan for much of his life.

Joe misses Genevieve dearly but still strives to be like her and make her proud. He keeps a photo of her in his locker and dreams about her often at night. Eating fresh bread and drinking coffee make him feel like he's with her again.

[pearlypairings]

WIP Ask Game

List the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it!

Tagged by the lovely @talshiargirlfriend and @deadheaddaisy <3 sorry to be so delayed, been having a bit of a rough go of it lately~

I have endless WIP docs rn which is half my writer's block issue right now...figuring out what to focus on lol. Here we go:

charlies angels x ST ladies

ltli ch 6 (photocheer)

debating desire 2 ( enterprise: malcalas)

burnin' (cheertrick)

show me 2 (enterprise: tripol)

ch 10 aurelias (hellcheer)

avec amour de france (st: robin x french!OC)

robinhood au (steve x kali)

rustless heart (hellcheer polish folktale au)

coffee and contemplation (twin peaks x stranger things )

I literally could go on forever, but these wips were the most fleshed out already:)

Tagging without pressure: @empress-of-snark @krakoansam @chornayadrakoshig and whoever else wants to play <3 just tag me for fun so I can see your wips too!

[uncleticklefingers]

More dogman ocs oh yeah (some are old and redesigned ye)

Callum and Theo are in the present while the other ocs are in the past.

Info for each oc:

Callum: Callum is a con artist plus a lady's man in the city. He runs many scandals around and is very hard to catch from the police since he is good at escaping. Except for Thèo! Callum runs into him multiple times and is in love when he meets him for the first time. He is a cat.

Thèo: Thèo is a detective and is best friends with Dogman. He helps Dogman search for clues quickly whenever Dogman has a hard time. Thèo runs into Callum and tries to catch him but fails due to Callum’s quick skills. He isn’t love at first sight guy till later on when he starts developing feelings. He is a dog and his breed is a Samoy.

Gadget: Gadget and the gang, she was in, were the notorious thieves and were wanted in France. She and the gang escape after the police find out where their hideout is and go to the U.S. Gadget then meets Ophelia while robbing her place. Ophelia gives her stuff that she doesn’t want and they become friends. They slowly fall in love and secretly have dates. Gadget’s gang catches onto this and argues which leads to Gadget leaving. One day, Gadget breaks up with Ophelia and tries to convince her to break off the arranged marriage. Fails but still respects it. She then moves on to a different life. She is a raccoon. She is deceased in the present.

Ophelia: Ophelia is a wealthy dog and is known as the prettiest dog in her neighborhood. She meets Gadget one night and decides to give her some stuff that she and her family don’t even use or need. They become friends and slowly lovers. One day, her parents give her an arranged partner, a farmer dog running a successful business. She is forced to go on dates with him and slowly drifts away from Gadget. Ophelia sadly breaks up with Gadget after telling her arranged marriage. She still misses her and regrets not breaking the marriage off. She is a dog and her breed is a Saluki. She is deceased in the present.

Corbin (old oc): Corbin is a hardworking farmer and has a successful business which catches the attention of Ophelia’s parents. Corbin meets with Ophelia and instantly falls in love with her. He is a caring husband and a father with a strict belief that a dog cannot be paired with any animals except for dogs and reminds them. His bond with his daughter, Lottie, deteriorates a bit when he finds out she’s in love with a cat, Sinjin, and forbids her from seeing him. After the incident, he quickly finds another farmer to marry her, a Saint Bernard. His bond deteriorates even more after Lottie breaks it off on the day of the wedding and runs away with Sinjin. He’s convinced that Ophelia made her believe that a dog can love any animal and his relationship with Ophelia deteriorates. He blames it on her every day. Sadly, he keeps the marriage and does not want to get divorced to show how much he still cares for her. He is a dog and his breed is also a Saluki. He is deceased in the present.

Victoria (old oc): Victoria is a wealthy cat and her parents arranged a marriage for her. They do fall in love though. She takes her job and her family seriously and as her priority. She is a very loving wife and mother. The majority of the time, she is a very serious cat but is sometimes silly. She sets up on Sinjin with tons of arranged dates which are unsuccessful. Her belief is similar to Corbin’s but instead, it’s cats. Her bond does kind of deteriorate when she finds out that Sinjin is in love with a dog, Lottie, and also forbids him from seeing her. Her belief though changes when she hears Lottie talk at the wedding. Her bonds grows back with Sinjin and apologizes to him for being harsh on him. She lets Lottie stay with them after finding out her dad kicked her out. She is a cat and her breed is a calico. She is alive in the present.

Archibald (old oc): Archibald is also a wealthy cat growing up and the same goes for his parents arranging for him and both of them falling in love. He is a loving and caring husband and dad and is also serious the majority of the time but he is sometimes silly too. Same belief with Victoria. He reminds Sinjin about him wanting grandkids, only pure cats not mixed. His bond also deteriorates a little finding about the secret relationship. His belief also changes after hearing Lottie’s talk at the wedding. He also apologizes to Sinjin and is very welcoming to Lottie when she moves in with them. He is a cat and his breed is a Snowshoe.

Fun facts ig???:

- Callum and Thèo’s relationship dynamic is inspired by Sly Cooper and Carmelita Fox

- Grace’s bandana is Gadget’s since it was a gift for her grandma but was later given to Lottie and is now given to her

- Grace gets her breed genes from Victoria, her grandma

- Gadget’s existence is inspired by the song “Good luck, Babe!” By Chappell Roan

- Ophelia secretly sends a goodbye and apology letter to Lottie, this is how Lottie finds out about her mom’s secret relationship with Gadget

- Victoria takes care of Lottie’s business, which was later given to Petey as a gift

- In Gadget’s new life, she adopts an orphan. This orphan is Thèo’s grandpa WOAHHHH :0

- Victoria never got her justice when she finds about Grampa, Petey’s dad, murdering Lottie and Sinjin :(

- Archibald and Victoria relationship was kinda like Beatrice and Butterscotch but I changed it

- Ophelia and Corbin’s relationship is inspired by the song “Me and my Husband” by Mitski

- Victoria and Archibald are the first parents in the city to support mixed species

- Callum is adopted and is raised by rats

- Callum gives Thèo gifts 24/7 and leaves it on his workspace

- Thèo is the only one in the family to become a detective since the rest of his family were robbers

- Thèo finds out about Gadget’s old life through her diary

That’s it YEAH 👍