#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.

[latibvles]

“a real tough cookie with the whiskey breath.”

oh blind dates oc fest my beloved how i missed you. to the surprise of no one, because i cannot be quiet about anything ever : a MOTA OC this time around. i'm sure this bar probably has a name to be found somewhere on the internet, but until I come across it [ big cartoony shrug ]. anyways, here's Genevieve Laurent, or Gen, if you're friendly. @blind-dates-fest ♡

Tom’s is only a fifteen minute bike ride away. The pay is good, she gets to keep all her tips, and her boss, for lack of a better term — downright adores her.

That’s never been the reason why she’s stuck with it all this time, though. There were better paying jobs in equal distance, and if she really, really wanted to, she thinks she’d do a pretty okay job packing parachutes or something of a similar vein. Respectable work, her mother would call it, which was secret code for: work that will keep you out of trouble, and possibly off the street before midnight. But that was really what it came down to: whether Genevieve wanted to do it. And for all the respect she had for those women, she knew that wasn’t the thing that called to her — not like it did to Claire, who was now off in London with the best and brightest, working in the Foreign Office.

Whatever that meant.

Much more glamorous than Genevieve’s own station, and she’s fairly certain none of their mother’s letters are imploring Claire to quit anytime soon. She was almost apologetic, in a way, that she couldn’t entice her family with letters filled with omissions, with work so secret she could hardly speak of it — but the beer wouldn’t pour itself and somebody had to do it after all those hours in flight.

“Thought you were leaving me out to dry tonight, sweetheart,” There’s a solid hand gripping her shoulder and squeezing, and Tom gives her a smile that’s all crows feet and genuine appreciation. Of course, the place wasn’t actually called Tom’s — but the sign was so faded that she and the other girls just tended to refer to it by the name of their esteemed publican. Genevieve returns the smile.

“And miss out on all this? Wouldn’t dream of it.” As if to accent her point, there’s a wave of hoots and hollering from the floor beyond the bar — no doubt from a bet won or a game of darts coming to its speedy conclusion. The song of the end of the work day. He gives her shoulder a shake, then lets go.

“Do me a favor and take those whiskeys to the table in the back? I think Elsie’s got caught up out there,” she follows his gaze to one of the other girls on shift —Elsie’s smile is easy and the tray on the table is empty, but she’s chatting up a storm at a table of men in brown uniforms. And Genevieve can’t exactly blame her, because while they knew practically every member of the RAF who came in and out on their days off, Americans were a sight to behold. Which is probably why Tom is sending her to the table in the back, with the hopes that she’ll be speedy.

“Yessir,” Genevieve hums, taking the tray of glasses with little fuss, making her way across the bustling floor with practiced hustle.

It’s not the pay that keeps her here, or the warmth of her boss. Not even the fact that she could do every job in this place, if she had to.

Genevieve had a penchant for poking her nose into places for the thrill of it — and there really was no thrill quite like conversation with people who had time to kill and liquor in their systems.

She recognizes the RAF officer at the table: David Griffiths, who Claire knew better than Genevieve did. She’d laughed when Claire told her he joined the RAF, and as an officer, no less. He’d been meek before the war, to put it lightly — maybe that slate-colored uniform and dark blue tie gave him the confidence he once lacked, she didn’t know. And then a couple regulars from around town. So the one in a brown uniform as opposed to their English blue sticks out like a sore thumb, and her curiosity is piqued in spite of David’s attempt to draw her attention with his smile alone.

“Thought old Tom was keeping you in the back tonight.”

“You know, it’s much easier to simply say you missed me, Griffiths,” she hums, leaning over to set down the tray. “Whiskeys for the table, yeah?” David clears his throat and makes a show of adjusting his cuffs, flaunting the new insignia adorning his sleeve as he had for every promotion prior. Genevieve straightens out, wraps her arm around his shoulder to pick off a stray thread.

“Captain Griffiths, congratulations,” Genevieve acknowledges just for the sake of him, then diverts her attention to look over the table, eyes settling on the new face staring right back at her. His dark hair curls over his forehead, with a straight nose and a pretty pair of lips — the wings on his jacket are catching lamplight. The smile on his face is what’s got her the most curious. “And who’ve you brought to cause trouble in Tom’s respectable place of business?”

The smile grows, the stranger leans back in his seat.

“No trouble over here ma’am, not unless you hate singin’.” His voice is deep and gravelly and, well, very American. His tone goes up at the end of the sentence, like it’s a question she’s meant to answer, and Genevieve wonders if it still counts as a bait when she can recognize it for what it is. She raises her brows, David’s hand curls around her wrist loosely as if to remind her that he’s there.

“Only if it’s bad.”

“Best keep your mouth shut then, Major, wouldn’t want to cause a scene,” around them, the other men chuckle at David’s quip — Genevieve pulls her wrist from his barely-there grasp as the Major raises his glass to his lips, before waving a hand dismissively on the swallow.

“Don’t listen to him, I’m like a canary over here.” He draws out each syllable, his smile only growing. She doesn’t believe him for a second.

“Well, Major, make sure not to shatter any glasses with your tunes and you’ll have soothed all my worries,” He chuckles at that, sitting back in the chair and Genevieve looks him up and down rather shamelessly before patting Griffiths’ shoulder. “Enjoy your evening, boys.”

Genevieve knows the feeling well — that sensation of eyes tracking her every movement as she walks away. She’d call it a sixth sense, the way she can make the distinction between the slighted nature of Griffiths’ staring as opposed to the more welcome lingering look of the Major, who’s name she’d surely get by the end of the night. If Claire were here, she’d probably laugh, then apologize to Griffiths for her little sister’s fleeting attention span, accompanied with some remark about how Genevieve had a penchant for things shiny and new. Genevieve would beg to differ and say it was more like she had a penchant for the things she didn’t understand.

And so what if she liked the staring, and leaving the air more charged than she’d found it?

Regardless of the interaction, the night wears on, and so long as the taps are flowing Genevieve is busy enough to keep from staring at the back table for too long. At some point, they stand up and make their way toward the dartboard (and Elsie with them, who shoots her a wink from across the room that has her laughing and Tom groaning from their spots behind the bar). Luckily, she’s only gone for maybe fifteen minutes — and she comes back with orders for Tom, before scurrying over and leaning forward on the bar.

“Better straighten up over there, Genny,” Elsie leans forward further to tuck one of Genevieve’s stray hairs behind her ear.

“Back from your mission so soon?”

“Well I had to make sure the prize was in place.” Genevieve raises an inquisitive brow.

“And that means..?”

“It means—” Elsie is effectively cut off by another round of hollering, and Genevieve knows the grin on the other girl’s face all too well. Elsie turns around and she follows the girl’s eyes to several things. One, Griffiths walking out of the pub, two, Major Canary laughing as he makes his way over and three, a conglomerate of Irishmen clapping his shoulders and shaking them in congratulations. “Well now we know who the winner is. Good luck!”

Before Genevieve can get a word in, Elsie’s scurrying back over to Tom on the other end of the bar to grab the drinks he’s lined up. She turns her back to the floor, but still hears a heavy exhale as someone takes a seat behind her. Then she tilts her head to look, and makes little attempt to withhold her smile as the dots connect fairly quickly in her head.

“Major Canary,” Genevieve hums in greeting. “Am I getting you anything?”

“Whiskey’s fine,” He looks around, like he’s taking a survey of the room, then turns to rest both elbows on the polished wood as she grabs one of the glasses that’s already dried. “Think you got me in trouble with your boyfriend back there,” he laments with a grin, running his thumb over his bottom lip.

“Who, me?” Genevieve slides the glass along the countertop. “You might have the wrong girl, sir.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?” He takes that tone again — so clearly baiting her and Genevieve is, admittedly, a little too eager to take what he’s giving this time.

“Well for one, I don’t have a boyfriend,” she hums, holding up the pointer finger, and then her middle one, “And two, I’m willing to wager it was the dart game that got you in trouble, Major.” She slides the glass over the countertop, and he takes it. He’s closer now than he was at the table — she can finally make out that his eyes are blue, like the RAF uniforms.

“Yeah? How much are you willing to bet?”

“Well, how much did you earn in your game? Must’ve been a hefty sum for the Captain to walk out like that.” Genevieve leans forward on the bar now, tilting her head as she looks at him, already knowing the answer. His eyes flit over her face and down the length of her neck, following the curve of her shape before the bar cuts off his vantage point, then he goes back to returning her stare. He brings the glass to his lips, then licks off the excess before he opens his mouth again.

“A shot with the pretty girl serving drinks tonight? Pretty priceless if you ask me.”

“Well that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” Genevieve remarks with an airy laugh.

“But it made you laugh. Must be doing something right.” He counters, and she laughs again with a roll of her eyes. “See? Just did it again.” Genevieve shakes her head slightly.

“Well if my company’s so priceless why haven’t you asked my name yet? Bragging rights and all that.” It’s hardly the bait of their earlier conversation — but it’s something, and she wonders if he recognizes it for what it is, like she had at the table. He finishes off the glass, pushing it back to her with his fingertips and holding her gaze all-the-while.

“Well my bragging was gonna be making you laugh ‘till your boss throws me out, but I should probably get the name so I know who to ask for next time, right?” She takes his glass, and moves to fill it again — feeling both like the belle of a ball and like one of those wood logs in a fireplace crumbling into charcoals, giving off sparks. Somewhere in the back of her head, Claire is screaming at her to stop dancing so close to cliffsides before she takes a tumble she’ll regret, but right now she doesn’t feel any ground giving way beneath her feet.

“Genevieve. Gen, if you’re friendly.” She hums out, taking her time on his refill with the express purpose of keeping him there a little longer. The laugh he lets out is breathy, almost disbelieving, and she looks back up at him through her lashes. “Your turn, or should I just keep calling you Major Canary?”

“My turn, she says,” he mutters, probably more to himself than her even if she can hear it. She passes the glass back over. “Well if we’re being friendly it’s Bucky. Egan.” He exaggerates it — the word friendly, but Genevieve’s really hanging on the ‘if’. She feels almost like a kid picking apart words to prove her point. She should’ve been a lawyer. ‘If’ meant she had options, and maybe she feels a little prideful; to know she has control of where this thing goes. It’s a rush. The kind she wouldn’t get packing parachutes or up in an office. The kind only another person could give her.

The ground gives a little beneath her feet, but Genevieve is undeterred.

“But I take it you’re aiming for a little more than that, is that right, Bucky?”

The smug grin on his face is as much of an answer as any.

And it excites her down to her bones.

[tiredprogrammer]

Some messy doodles I did at 3am featuring my queen Eris who belongs to @lavendel081 🫶🫶🫶

[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.

[sea-of-eden]

introducing my newest oc in the best way possible (BOOBS). she’s the one on the left btw. her name’s frances and the other beautiful lady is her girlfriend domino :3

anyways butch4butch FOR LIFE 🫡

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

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

[cetaitlaverite]

Anything to Anywhere

Masters of the Air - John Egan x OC

masterlist is hereee <3

19. Mourning Doves

“God, I just can’t stop thinking about it,” Stella said to no one in particular. Lying back on her bed, freshly showered and in her pyjamas, her trusty childhood teddy bear right beside her and all the radiators turned up now that winter had officially fallen; she couldn’t have been further away from what Guy, one of the 161 pilots, was likely going through right now. “Camped out with the Resistance in occupied France,” she went on, shaking her head. She shut her eyes as she tried to picture it; the dark, the cold, the fear. It made her stomach turn. “It must be the scariest thing in the world.”

From the bed opposite Stella’s, Houds gave a noncommittal hum, tactfully uttered in time with the rhythmic rise and fall of the balled up pair of socks she was throwing and catching as she, too, lounged back on her bed. “Well, he’s got a better chance of surviving out there than we would. Official RAF documents and an official RAF uniform - if he gives himself up he’ll be a prisoner of war, yes, but the Germans adhere to the Geneva Convention. At least then he’d definitely survive the war, which is more than any of us over here can say. Much more than we’d be able to say if we went down, undeclared lady pilots as we are.”

“I hope he does give himself up,” Donny said. For her part, she was sitting on her bed, beside Houds’, and painting her toenails a bright shade of red. “It’ll be so much worse if he gets caught trying to escape.”

Lucky scoffed from where she was curled up on her side at Stella’s feet. “If the Germans cannot find the squadron he flew for - which they will not, since it is secret - then they will know he has been up to something suspicious. They will not treat him like any other RAF pilot.” She hummed an affirmative, as though agreeing with herself. “He should hide and escape.”

“But downed airmen caught trying to hide or escape get it worse,” Houds reasoned. Her rhythm never faltered, that balled up pair of socks going up and falling down over and over again like a pendulum. “Discovered downed airmen get about as bad treatment as we’d get if we ever went down.”

Donny reached out with the hand which had been holding her foot steady and gave Houds a firm thump for that one. “Don’t say things like that!”

“What?” Houds asked. Her socks had gone flying across the room with the impact of Donny’s whack but she didn’t bother to retrieve them, simply lay there rubbing her arm and pouting. “It’s true! You’ve heard what people have been saying about those dreadful civilian camps. The men here might get away with POW status but we certainly won’t - there’s no formal recognition of any women serving in the British military, much less flying for a secret squadron in the RAF. They’d assume we’re spies.”

All the blood had drained out of Stella’s face. Her body went still as she stared up at the ceiling above her. “What happens to spies?”

“No one knows,” Lucky said. “We only hear rumours.”

“Torture,” Houds elaborated. “And then medical experimentation. That’s what I heard.”

Donny thumped her again. “Would you shut up?!”

“Medical experimentation?” Stella asked. She felt sick. “Are you serious?”

Lucky gave her ankle a pat. “They are only rumours.”

“I wouldn’t put it past the Nazis though,” Stella pointed out. She didn’t feel like lying down any more, her stomach was too unsettled, so she pushed herself upright and pulled her knees into her chest.

Lucky sat up as well, leaning back against Stella’s shins, and shrugged. “Do not go down and we will not find out. Is simple.”

Reluctantly, Stella cracked a tiny smile. “I’ll try my best.”

“It’s not like they let us land anyway,” Houds pointed out. Pushing herself up, she climbed off her bed to retrieve her socks, speaking over her shoulder as she went, “They promised all four of us that we’d eventually fly for 161 and here we all are, stuck with 138.”

“Nothing wrong with 138,” Donny objected.

“That’s not the point,” Houds argued, returning to her bed and lying back down again. She recommenced her throwing and catching. “The point is, they keep promising us more and then taking it away again. Mouse told Bambi when she first got here that they were preparing her for 161 training, and now she’s been here for a month and nothing. Ten ferries flown and nothing!”

“If medical experimentation’s what’s waiting for me on the ground then maybe I don’t want to fly for 161,” Stella cut in. Her stomach was still rolling at the thought. “I’m quite happy dropping my Joes and turning around if it means I get to keep all my vital organs inside my body.”

Houds scoffed. “Oh, Bambi, don’t be a baby.”

Donny laughed. “She can’t help it! She got her name because she’s a baby.”

“I’m almost twenty-three!” Stella insisted. “In two days I’ll be twenty-three, and then I’ll be only three years younger than Lucky.”

“Such a baby!” Donny cooed. “You’re so cute, Babs.”

Stella scowled. “No one has ever described me as cute.”

Donny grinned at her. “I just did.”

“Are you excited for your birthday, Babs?” Lucky asked, turning to look at Stella and opting to lean sideways against her legs instead. “Twenty-three is a good age, I think.”

Stella shrugged and tried to give no other discernible reaction than that. “I don’t like my birthday, so not really.”

Donny gasped. “You don’t like your birthday?!”

“What’s not to like about a birthday?!” Houds demanded.

Stella laughed but the sound was strained and awkward to her own ears. Forced. “I’ve just never liked it.”

“But you get presents,” Donny said, frowning. “And cake. And attention. And people are obligated to be nice to you.”

Again, Stella gave that forced laugh. She couldn’t seem to help it. She didn’t really know what else to do with herself. “My birthdays are different from your birthdays, I suppose.”

Donny shook her head, an uncomprehending smile on her face. “What do you mean?”

“It’s fine, forget I said -”

“You do not get presents?” Lucky cut in. “Or you do not get cake or attention or people being nice?”

Stella sighed, lifting a hand to rub at her eyes. “The last time I got a birthday present I was eighteen,” she explained grudgingly. “I’ve never had a birthday cake.”

“You what?!”

“It’s fine!” Stella insisted. “It’s not a big deal -”

“It is a huge deal!” Donny cut across her.

Houds was nodding along with her, sitting up again now. “It is kind of the biggest deal ever, Bambi,” she agreed.

“Why have you never had a birthday cake?” Lucky wondered curiously.

Internally, Stella was cringing. She never should have said anything. “My family didn’t do birthday cakes,” she replied simply, picking at the blanket beneath her. “We didn’t have the money.”

“Ingredients for a cake are not expensive,” Houds pointed out.

Once more, Donny whacked her.

“And what is your favourite flavour of cake?” Lucky wondered next. “If you were going to have a birthday cake, you would have..?”

Stella shrugged. “I tried chocolate cake once and it was nice.”

“Once?” Donny echoed.

Lucky spoke before Houds could. “You know what you would love?”

“What?” Stella asked, humouring her.

“Coffee cake. My favourite cake, too.”

Houds scoffed. “Just because it’s your favourite -”

“Me and Babs have similar taste. She will enjoy coffee cake,” Lucky declared, and that was that. The final word.

Lucky had a way of commanding a room without being at all domineering. It was one of the first things Stella had loved about her, along with how she’d so immediately welcomed Stella without ever being overbearing about it.

Tonight, along with deciding that Stella’s favourite type of cake was coffee cake - even though Stella had never actually tried it - she had decided she was sleeping in Stella’s bed with her. Single bed though it was, when everyone tired of conversation and retired to bed, the two of them got snug beneath the covers and lay side by side in the dark, Ralph the teddy bear between them.

They said nothing and barely moved. After a while of contemplating the darkness above her, Stella closed her eyes.

When Lucky spoke, it was entirely out of nowhere, her voice barely a whisper to make sure she wasn’t overheard by Houds or Donny. “I have never had a best friend before,” she said. Her voice was so casual and yet so confessional all at once, like what she was saying was both a matter of great importance and also something Stella probably knew already.

Softly, with a warmth spreading through her chest, Stella smiled. “Me neither,” she whispered back. Because John would have been the closest thing she’d ever had to a best friend, but he’d had Buck. And then there had been Alice, but the two of them were more friends because they lived and worked together than they were because they adored each other. And Jessop - well, Jessop was Jessop and Stella was sure he hadn’t considered her a best friend either.

But with Lucky it was different. They had clicked so immediately, like something in each of them had chosen each other before they’d even met. Stella had felt almost instantly that she wouldn’t have to try very hard to convince Lucky to like her and she had been right; there was something easy about being with Lucky. There was no having to contort herself into something else to win approval, no having to spend every free moment with her just to ensure they were actually friends. The two of them existing at all was enough for them to be friends. The two of them having almost the exact same sense of humour, the same desire for occasional solitude, the same lack of patience with men was enough for them to be best friends.

“Am I your best friend, Babs?” Lucky asked next. Impossibly, her voice was even quieter now.

Stella swallowed. The sound was loud in the quiet. “Yes,” she confessed. “Am I yours?”

She held her breath while she awaited a reply.

She didn’t have to wait for long. “Yes,” Lucky said.

Stella smiled into the darkness, settling further into her mattress. She wanted so badly to tell John about this. More than that, she wanted John to meet Lucky and see how great she was for himself.

“Good,” was all Stella said in reply to Lucky.

“Good,” Lucky agreed.

Two days later, when the clock struck midnight, marking the start of Stella’s twenty-third birthday, she was in the air. With a spy tucked into the back of her Halifax, her chin buried in John’s jacket to ward off the chill, she hummed softly to herself, oblivious of the time, and smiled as she flew over the White Cliffs of Dover and headed across the Channel.

It never got old.

“Oi,” said the spy out of the darkness behind her, a man who must have been in his thirties. Stella knew nothing about him other than that he had such a kind face it was impossible to imagine he was a spy, which she supposed was exactly why he was one. “Miss Pilot,” he added, poking her shoulder.

“Yes?” she asked.

“One of your buddies on the ground told me it’s your birthday today.”

Stella laughed. “As soon as it strikes midnight it will be.”

“It’s twelve-oh-one,” the spy informed her.

Stella furrowed her eyebrows, lifting her right hand off of the yoke to check the time.

He was right. It was the nineteenth of November. Today, she turned twenty-three.

“Oh,” Stella said, laying her hand back on the yoke and looking over her shoulder at the spy. “You’re right. It’s my birthday.”

The spy was grinning at her. “Happy birthday! How old are ya?”

“Twenty-three today,” Stella said.

The spy’s eyes went wide. “Jesus Christ, lass,” he said. “At twenty-three me mam was still tying me shoelaces.”

Stella laughed, scoffing, and turned back to watch her course. “Well, look at you now.”

The spy was clearly an old hand at all this by now; by the time Stella called out that they were approaching the drop off point he was already sitting by the Joe hole, waiting for her to open the hatch.

“Happy birthday, Miss Pilot!” he called right before he parachuted out. “Make me one promise?”

“What’s that?” Stella called back.

“Do something this year that really fucking scares you,” he said. “It’s the last year of your early twenties, last year you can blame it on being a baby adult. Do something that makes it fucking count.”

Stella laughed but he was being serious.

“Do you promise?”

“Ten seconds to drop,” she shouted above the roar of the wind. “I promise!”

“Happy birthday, lass!” he said. “Make it fucking count!” With that, he parachuted out of the Joe hole, undoubtedly ready to cause absolute chaos in occupied France.

Everyone but Lucky was asleep when Stella got back. She didn’t always wait up for Stella, but she had today because of the occasion.

“Happy birthday!” she cheered, wearing a party hat as she sat on Stella’s bed. She’d placed a party hat on Ralph the teddy bear’s head, too, and had him sitting in her lap.

Stella laughed. “Go to sleep! You’re flying tomorrow!”

“I wanted to be the first to say it!” Lucky objected.

Stella grinned. “You weren’t. Someone told my Joe. He was the first.”

Lucky swore under her breath. “Who told him?”

“No idea. My money would be on Goose.”

Lucky nodded solemnly. “He knows all the Joes.”

“God knows how, since that’s not allowed at all.”

“This is why he still flies for 138,” Lucky said, grinning. “He has a big mouth. If he ever went down, the Nazis would know everything.”

Stella didn’t make it to breakfast the next morning. It was commonplace for those who had been flying the previous night to sleep in until lunch. But when she entered the tiny mess hall at one in the afternoon, still rubbing sleep from her eyes, she was stopped still in her tracks, her heart in her stomach, as an almighty cry of, “Happy birthday!” bombarded her with the force of a boulder rolling down a mountain.

“Fucking hell!” she shouted, horrified.

No one batted an eye.

“Happy birthday, Bambi!” Donny cried, skipping out of the crowd with Lucky and Houds hot on her heels. All of the gathered group were wearing the same type of party hat Lucky had been wearing last night and, on the far wall, they had strung up bunting which declared, “Happy birthday!” in bright colours.

“Twenty-three!” Lucky exclaimed, bounding towards Stella and skidding to a stop before her. “You are so old,” she said, giving her shoulder an affectionate jostle.

Stella scoffed but ducked her head nonetheless so Lucky could put a party hat on for her.

“We have birthday cake for breakfast,” Donny said, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waited for Lucky to finish and then grabbing Stella’s hand. She led her over to the centre of the mess hall, where one table had been covered with a plastic tablecloth and already had plates laid out in front of all the seats. In the centre of the table were two glass cake stands, each displaying a cake, one of them a dark brown and the other much lighter in colour.

“Lucky made us get coffee cake but I got chocolate as well,” Houds cut in from behind them, explaining the second. “Just in case.”

Stella grinned at her over her shoulder. “Houds,” she said, her voice soft and high-pitched because she was touched. She reached out and gave her arm a squeeze. “Thank you.”

Houds brushed her aside, turning her face away and shrugging. “Chocolate is my favourite, don’t be too touched.”

Stella laughed but couldn’t add anything more because the next thing she knew she was being shoved into one of the seats opposite the centre of the table, and then Donny was shouting above all the chatter that she wanted to be the one to cut and hand out the cake. Stella got the first two slices - one of coffee cake and one of chocolate cake, just in case - and in amongst the chaos of everyone else fighting for a slice of either one, Stella took a moment to stare down at her plate.

Her first birthday cake and she’d been given two, just to make sure she liked at least one of them. There were tears stinging in her eyes, as there seemed to be so often these days. She’d never cried more than she had since coming to Tempsford but she couldn’t find it in her to resent the development; her tears were happy ones far more often than not, and when they were sad they were because of John, a physical expression of all the affection she had stored up for him which she’d never given herself permission to show.

She marvelled at the effort this group of people who had known her for only a month had gone to for her. She had had twenty-two cake-less birthdays and a month after arriving here she had gotten two at once. Not only that, they had decorated for her and made sure to gather and sit with her at lunch.

This was, without a shadow of a doubt, her favourite birthday.

Maybe she wouldn’t have to try very hard to make her twenty-third year count after all, as her Joe last night had bid her. Maybe it would come naturally.

“Dig in, then, birthday girl,” Goose said from across the table, his mouth already full of cake. “You waiting for a personal invitation?”

Stella laughed, the sound wet and weepy, and when she looked up at him she had to swipe a few rogue tears off of her cheeks.

From the seat beside her, Lucky wrapped her arm around Stella’s shoulders and tucked herself into her side. “Happy birthday, Babs. Now eat your coffee cake. Is delicious, I promise.”

Stella rested her head atop her best friend’s as she picked up her fork and dug into the first of her two birthday cakes. Lucky did the same, and she left her head tucked beneath Stella’s as she did. And the two of them sat there like that throughout lunch, plastered together and eating their cake, their heads ducked together like a pair of mourning doves.

[no1tolerateitfan]

i sit and watch you reading with your head low...

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welcome to my girlblog!

colette , fifteen (taylor's version) , january capricorn , she/her , american-french-spanish , bilingual , tennis , soccer , estj , pinterest girlie , uptown girl , middle child , cabin 10 , ravenclaw , thought daughter , matt girl , 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 , etc<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<3

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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!

[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, DeMylenter, 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, GLAM BAT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ayesha: Ladyesha, AyeshAngel, Heavenly, Rainbow Surfer, Euprosesha, SPIRIT BAT

Dot: Dot Thatch, InvisiDot, Badass, Speck, Cliot, SECRETARY BAT

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

Roxie: Roxgara, Rocksie, Stellar, Infinite, Nemoxie, REBEL BAT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aggie: GoGo Findlay, Faegie, Platinum Tide, Specter, Atëgie, SKATER BAT

Mona: Tow Mona, Gryphona, Hurricane, Mind Warp, Monapheus, DIRECTOR BAT

Evie: Evie Poppins, SirEvie, Lady Mars, Screech, EratEvie, MELODY BAT

Eloise: Eloislin, Roboise, Liz, Illuminate, Metoise, MATH BAT

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

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

Missy: Flounssy, MisShark, MAPT Missy, Rancor, Quick Fire, Misclepius, Lissy the Unicorn, 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, Jessdigo, Akicita Igmu, Grey Bat, Jesslanta, GREEN LANTERN

Fei: Fei Shang, Feisper, Lady Wu, Sonar, Feipolyta, BEAST GIRL

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

Aeon: Wall-Aeon, 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: Aswanters, Professor Polymorph, Threaded Thespian, Clothers

Grotke: GroTiger, Soulshock, Nocturne

Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[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".

[spencerrxids]

begin with a dance

labyrinth ( chapter 01 )

main masterlist | series masterlist | next

pairing : sherlock holmes x fem!oc

genre : slight angst(?), tension

summary : in which Sherlock Holmes finally met the girl who had been nothing but a fond memory in his head

wordcount : 1.9k

Annaliése Amélie Moore is a dear in the society. At least that's what some people like to call her. Born into the Moore family, she was expected to grow up as a proper lady, whatever proper means in their eyes. And so she did. Or at least she half-ly did, if that's even the right word to describe it. Annaliése Amélie Moore could easily blend into the crowd of a ball. Dancing on her feet, her hand brushed against the gent's shoulders as she twirled onto the other with the grace of a former ballerina. Just like the meaning of her name, Graced with God's Bounty.

You see, Annaliése did grow up as a proper lady but that itself wasn't enough in the public eye. Some would say that to be seen, a woman such as herself would need to find herself a suitor, a husband to provide for her which she found as such a dulling mindset. Is not the idea of having a husband that aggravates her nor was it the idea of loving someone with such honesty and innocent purpose, for Anneliése, was someone who once yearned to love although she seemed to give up on that long ago.

But would she? Would she be seen as an individual if she ever found herself a husband who will provide for her? Would people finally acknowledge her tremendous mind? In the truth of her mind, she didn't think so. Even if she found herself a name, all of those will get credited to her husband because what a man he is for getting himself a woman like her. And of course, it wasn't the man's fault, no it's not. It was the society and the world she grew up in that was at fault.

She changed her whole demeanour as she realised the deep thought she was in had brought a scowl on her face. Putting back a smile, she muttered a small apology to her companion whom she was waltzing with. Although, that didn't last long as her eyes caught a familiar pair of eyes who was also waltzing not even five feet from her.

What is he doing here? She found herself asking the question that she already knew the answer to.

Not even a minute later, she twirled around and landed in the arms of a man that she once had the privilege of being close with. She said nothing and let him lead the dance for the night. And it seems that the same idea appeared inside his head. His arm fits flawlessly around her waist as he dips her before the proximity of their body becomes closer as she faces him again.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence tonight, Mr. Holmes?" She asked, breath fanning the side of his face as she could feel him tense under the sound of her voice which brought a small smirk to her face.

"I was hoping to find you here. I heard you are finally back from France." The lie rolled out of his mouth so naturally, as if he just received the news of her arrival earlier the day when in fact he had known exactly that she first arrived back a month ago.

The orchestra faded as the dance came to an end, the two friends facing one another. The two friends that have a well-known face in the public eye. Her eyes met his once more, daring him to say something more about his unwelcome presence. "It seems that the news has gotten a bit late for you. I've been back for a month, Mr. Holmes. Now if you really don't have anything more to say to me, I will excuse myself and let you get on with whatever case you are on right now." She said, already preparing to take a step away from him when the man himself took a step forward causing her to slap his chest out of instinct.

"Now what are you thinking you're doing?" She asked once more. Sherlock only smiled slightly at the people around them, before grabbing her by the forearm and leading her away from the crowd. "Sherlock!" She yelped, and tried to look over her shoulders, perhaps one of the guests there would notice that a man had taken her away without her will. But then again, everyone recognizes Sherlock Holmes, and who would dare to question his integrity, at least that's not what the general public would do.

The man leaned forward to her shoulders. "My mother and sister are missing." He said, finally letting go of her once they are far enough from the others. She turned to look at him, taking in the information. Although she had never met Enola, she did get the privilege to meet the amazing mother of the Holmes family once. Hearing them go missing isn't precisely how she expected herself to meet him again.

Sherlock Holmes is never one to waste time in striking up a conversation. Always getting to the point of it. She might be used to it by now. But she couldn't help but feel that it was a bit much for the man to dump the information on her after not even acknowledging her existence for the last two-three years.

"What happened?" She questioned with concern laced in her words.

Sherlock turned slightly, making sure that no one are listening to their private conversation. It would be such a nuisance if the news had gotten out to the public. Sherlock Holmes's sister and mother were missing. People sure would get the chance to ruin his reputation. Even more, if they had known that at least one of them are running away from her own family.

"If we could go to your place-"

"There's no such thing as you being in my place," She talked back. "What makes you think I'll welcome you, Sherlock Holmes? Was it because of your name? Does being a genius renowned detective give you the privilege of being anywhere anytime you want? You could've at least told me what your intention was before asking such a question."

"Anna, I-" He halted and she raised her eyebrow at the nickname he uttered. He looked away for a bit. She could sense him hesitating to say the words. "I need-I need your help."

And within those four words, she found herself letting him back into her life. That was a decision that might get her hurt but surely not one that she will wish undone.

***

"So you're saying that your mother left home leaving young Enola behind? And Enola ran away the day after meeting her two brothers for so many years?"

She took a seat, finger trailing the rim of her teacup as she stared at the man in front of her. Although Sherlock's eyes seemed to have more interest in looking around her flat. He only nodded slightly in her direction without taking his eyes away. Without even saying anything, Annaliése had already known what was in his mind. There's no point in hiding something from the Sherlock Holmes.

"I mean not to be insensitive, but I would've done the same if I had a misogynist of a person as my brother. Not to mention that Mycroft tried to force her into these lady-ish traits. You do see the problem here, don't you?" She asked him. And this was when Sherlock decided to turn to look at her directly with one of his eyebrows raised in a questioning manner.

"Don't look at me like that. There is a difference in our situation. I was educated that way since I was a kid, it was essentially my sole purpose in life to become a lady or so they said, whereas Enola wasn't. So you could imagine her horror of being forced into something that she isn't used to." She explained.

"You've met her." Those are the first three words he uttered after being quiet for some time.

"What?" She questioned.

"Enola. She had come to you, did she not?" He leaned forward, propping his elbow on the table. She only stared at him as he stared back, both not making a single move. "She's my sister, Annaliése." He said.

She was silently debating on what to and what not to say. Each word she uses would reveal yet another thing about her. She thought about the young woman who had come to her early that day, at first glance she didn't recognize who it was. But by opening her mouth, Enola had revealed her identity without even saying her name. It wasn't very difficult for Annaliése to recognize a Holmes just by the way they were speaking.

There was indeed nothing you could try to hide from Sherlock Holmes. And it's not necessarily hiding something when the man hadn't asked her the question and she answered with the truth of it. Downcasted her gaze, she spoke out. "If you truly cared for her, you would've made her your ward instead of Mycroft's. I know you have problems connecting with other people, but just like you said. She is your sister."

"And Mycroft is my brother." He replied.

Anneliése scoffed at the words that he just uttered. "In that case, I think both of us know that he's not really the best in that category." She stood up and walked over to the other side of the room, putting her cup down on the kitchen table. "You've figured out that Enola had come to me just by stepping into my flat. You sure will be able to figure out that I sincerely don't know about her where being at the moment." She looked over her shoulder at him.

"I met Edith." He said, suddenly.

"Who?"

"My mother's friend. Called me an ostrich for being alone. Enola had come to her too, my mother had led her there. So tell me Annaliése, why mother led Enola to you? Furthermore, why did she send two letters to you?" He stood up from his seat, making his way to get closer to her.

She straightened her back, furrowing her eyebrows in irritation. Anneliése does not like how he worded the sentence against her. "I don't understand. You keep asking questions, you already know the answer to." She stepped forward towards him. With one finger up, she pointed to his chest. "You came to me in the middle of a dance, practically ruined my night. I invited you to my flat because you said you are in need of my help and now you're accusing me." She said.

"Of what?" He asked, leaning down ever so slightly. "What am I accusing you of?"

"I am not hiding anything from you." She stated, not breaking her eyes away from him now that they were practically chest to chest. He did the same, although his eyes seemed to soften, knowing that she is, in fact, telling the truth. However, his mouth seemed to lose its ability to speak under her stern gaze. The topic of the night had spiralled from one to another in a quick ill-mannered way. That was his fault, undoubtedly.

"If you are stressed, I beg you not to let it out on me. Take a walk, Sherlock. Clear your head, you're in need of it." Those are the last words spoken to her that night before she turned her back on him and went out of the room. Leaving the man standing in the middle of it. And Annaliése was already in her room when the sound of the front door being closed was heard.

Sherlock lingered in front of the door for quite a long time, pondering whether he should go back in there or not before he turned around and walked away from the place. This was not how he wanted the reunion to be.

taglist! @mostclevermiss @strangeobsessed @officialjellydoughnut @redpostssometimes @mysticwitchcraftco @calamityjanet @literary-mind @km-ffluv @juliespellman @omg-itsmee @lexx-ee @sopanngon @kelloggs-world @thereisa8ella @juliette151 @dinosthatrawr @hotmomsluvme @erensloveinterest @mell-bell @sebastianthelobster @astronomiesd @aboywithsecrets @sugarraybeets @ihrtcevans @666-li @m4nif3st4t10n @incendiafalling @matchstick-doctor @moomoothecowking @emmaolsen @rain-clouds1 @maike3ee @anelissemariem @aestheticallystrange @girlonlinealways @keigoooo @supermanredundie @scar-let-mess @xcixosh @elysiasgf @sweetstyless @pepe-caca @nancysivrr @djopjm @hiyorinatsuki @sonicussy

[vivi-universe]

That's Not My Neighbor OC

Shoutout to @/hasanawolf and @/alienducksz (I forgot to adds you earlier, I'm sorry 🙏) for the inspiration of the poorly made OC's presentation.

Random infos about her :

Left handed.

Straight but LGBT+ ally.

Can understand some Spanish words.

Her parents and brother lives in France.

She have a niece as well.

She's clumsy, playful and stubborn.

She's quite expressive.

Blush easily to obvious flirt, completely oblivious half of the time.

She loves to listen gossiping.

Don't curse often.

Sweet tooth.

Bad at cooking so she eats a lot of sandwiches.

Gets drunk easily and quickly.

Tired almost all the time and takes a lot of nap. When she waits for her shift, she's napping in the hallway on a chair.

She would like to be more close with the neighbors but thinks it's safer to stay away.

Secretly have a thing for men in uniform (policemen and such).

If she learns about the Trojan Horse Project, she'll keep a low profile and keep it shut to avoid to be killed by you know who but will eventually be cold with that someone.

Despite being unease with Doppel, the human's cruelty scares her more than to be killed by a Doppelganger.

Quite confident in her office.

Not everything are set in stone yet. I will probably change the paragraph about her. You can ship her with anyone, regardless of their gender, treat yourself !

As for her Nightmare Counterpart. I've got few ideas, not quite sure how to do it, yet for her appearance. Here my ideas:

Probably inspired by the White Lady.

VIP.

Can't be killed.

Brings bad omen : You have to make a perfect run (No neighbor killed), if a neighbor is already killed, then you're lucky, no change.

Also I'll probably redo her on paper, I used some game assets to helps me and I'm not good with digital drawing. Once I'll do that + redo her on digital with the help of my drawing, I will have to redo her entire presentation pages. Plus I just remembered about n/a abbreviation. 🫠

Random facts about her creation :

She was created as an Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss OC's at first, as a Sinner, her appearance and personality are quite the opposite but I figured out that it's my character, I can literally do anything with her.

Her name "Maguy" came from the French name of Margie from Animal Crossing. She's not my fav villager but I liked her, due to circumstances, she had to leave before I have her picture so my fav villager (Mitzi) can take her place.

Oh and I forgot to add my third username... (Vivi Akina). I should stick on one username only.

[slutouttanowhere]

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x plus-size!oc

authors note: this was an idea I was really into when I started watched Bridgeton a few months ago, sadly I didn’t get very far in it, but! But this wip came out of it, and I hope you all enjoy what I have here, maybe I’ll continue, I wouldn’t get to excited about that though lol. Follow me for me, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

“Fleece, are you listening to me?” Benedict’s voice pulled me from my meditation, I was not listening to him, I turned my head in his direction. His fingers gingerly turned my head to the people in front of me, suddenly I became aware of my surroundings. The studio was lavish, yet messy. Half naked women stood at the front of the room, their body types varied from a petite, dark haired woman, to a curvy figured woman with hair the color or the sun. Her waist was slimmer than mine, and her bust was twice that of my own. The artists that sat off to the side, sketched and painted away, half filled chalices sat on a small side table mostly half empty.

There was one man however, that caught my eye, he was as handsome as the devil. Dark long hair that touched just below his shoulders, and curtain bangs that somewhat covered his striking grayish-blue eyes. His handsome face settled into a bored expression, slowly he moved from one woman to the next, but none of them struck his interest. That was until his gaze fell upon me, I froze like a deer in headlights, his eye brow lifted. Curiosity sparked in his eyes, his large hand reached for his drink, and swirled the honey colored liquor around.

“Drew! My friend, it’s been a while since we’ve seen you. How was France?” Benedict chirped up, he gently put a hand on my shoulder, and brought me forward. He placed me in front of him like a prize, Drew’s gaze lingered on me as he talked, and the way his eyes shamelessly slid down my body made my face heat up.

I’ve never had a man look at me in such a manner, when he stood from his stool I was surprised by his stature. Benedict, who already towered over me, somehow made him and I look the same height. This man was large. “Well you know, the usual, vineyards…” He trailed off, he took his time walking from around his easel, and closing the distance between us. “Plenty of women I suppose, then there’s the mind numbing duties of a Duke, I’ll watch paint dry if it keeps me from going to court.” He said tiredly.

‘Duke? What the hell is a man of his title doing here?’ I was gagged to say the least, my words caught in my throat, I looked over to Benedict who apparently found my current state of shock amusing. Our “relationship” was so casual, and relaxed it had become increasingly difficult to remember my manners.

“None of the pretty ladies kept you entertained?” Benedict asked teasingly, a sly smirk on his lips, some of the other painters had peaked up in interest, but no one said anything.

“What good is a pretty lady if that’s all she knows how to be?” He paused for a moment, I still haven't found my words, and as I mentally stumbled he turned his attention back to me. “And what of this one? Does she know how to speak?” His eyes cut to me sharply, I wanted to shrink, but I swallowed my discomfort.

“Her name is Fleece Waterton, and she prefers to not be regarded in such a way.” I said curtly, I forced my smile, my hands were clasped together at my waist. Usually when I bite at the men in court they quickly become discouraged, and leave me alone, not this one. No, the Duke seems to like playing with his meal.

“Then in what way would you like to be regarded?” His tone was unbelievably sweet, and his voice hushed. His gaze pierced me right through to my core, disrupting the butterflies in the pit of my stomach. I parted my lips to speak, but I found it difficult to form the words once more. He lifted one of his dark eyebrows expectedly, but I couldn’t deliver on what he was waiting for.

He decided to change topics, “Fleece, who named you such a thing?” He had not bothered to put space between us since he stepped to me. I looked over to Benedict for help, but he had abandoned me to flirt with a curly, golden haired man with paint stained hands.

“It’s actually short for Felicity, it’s just that I prefer to go by Fleece.” I explained shortly, curiosity struck in his beautiful eyes, my simple explanation had not fed his appetite for information like I hoped.

His hand reached out to stroke my hair, “why? Why not go by your given name, that’s quite improper isn’t it?” It wasn’t a ridicule, but rather a genuine question. Though I can’t help but feel like he was testing me as so many men of his stature do, all men really. Well, except Benedict.

“A childhood nickname, a play on the meaning of my actual name. Fleece is the soft undercoat of Sheep’s wool, growing up a family friend of ours owned a little far, and I would love to go sneak off to see the animals with my boy cousins. I loved the horses, but the Sheep were easier to deal with because they never got tired of me petting them. It got to a point where every time we visited I didn't have to sneak off, but instead just spent time with them whenever I pleased. My father started to call me Fleece as a joke, but it stuck.” I was lost in the memory of my childhood, the yearning for that time eating me alive all over again.

It wasn't until Drew spoke out loud again did I realize how long our conversation had been going. The models had changed, and so did the artist. “That’s it, that’s what I’ve been looking for!” Suddenly he brightened up, his eyes dancing with excitement, and when his lips pulled back into a grin his dimples became more prominent. ‘Heavens, where does the attractiveness end?’

“Is our lovely sheep your new muse Drew?” Benedict spoke up, he crossed the room to meet Drew and I where we stood, I stood in the middle looking between them. To say I was confused was an understatement, Benedict more than likely told me on the ride here what the plans were, but there’s not a doubt in my mind I stopped paying attention once he opened his mouth.

“Excuse me? Muse?” I asked, my eyebrows pinching together, and my heart pounding. Drew waved his hand signaling to a younger looking man who I assumed was his page, he ran over to the Dukes side to which Drew then gestured towards his painting tools. The young man nodded his head, and carried out his orders. I blinked once, then twice, but even when I blinked the third time it didn’t help to clear my confusion.

Benedict sighed, perplexed he said, “I explained this whole thing on the way over, and you didn’t even bother to listen?” His voice stressed as he leaned down to meet me at eye level, I could feel the way my face twisted into a disgruntled expression.

“I’m sorry, you were talking so much I couldn’t keep up.”

Tags: @slutfortheeclaymore @wwechristina87 @cardierreh15

[authorchia]

REVERSE 1999 OCS! 🥧🎀

Welcome to me writing infos and fun facts about my Reverse 1999 OCs, Mother Bakery and Precious! I thank @acesw for helping me write ideas for their UTTU Medium and Inspired by ones! I was pretty confused back then so I'm very glad! :D Now, let's not waste any time, I'll walk you through both of them to get to know them better! (let me know if there are historical inaccuracies since I feel like I haven't researched much ;-;)

𝑀𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝐵𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓇𝓎 (a.k.a Boulangerie Mère)

Mineral Arcanist / Reality DMG

An arcanist's work exhibited in the 1950s for 35 years. Completed in spring, on March 21st. First exhibited and displayed in Starsbourg, France.

A diligent baker and a hardworking single-parent. She owns a little bakery that bake breads with her "special methods and ingredients" to make money for a living. Though people are suspicious of her, they can't help but feel at ease around her due to her motherliness, inside or outside of her work.

Medium: Love

Inspired by: Crystalline Salt [Mineral] Local Baking

Fragrance: Ground Cinnamon, Goat Milk, Carbuncle Dusts

Fun Facts:

She carries her baby, Cosette, around in the suitcase and in battles! Don't worry, she knows how to protect her child and teammates like what a mother always does!

Her and her baby's udimo is based off of Babydoll Sheeps!

When she opens her bakery, she has several tactics. She only opens every two weeks, gives the buyer a note that says "Si tu manges plus de deux tranches, tu deviendras une méchante bestiole!", and if they got the side effects (ex. Aggressiveness), she'll secretly kick their stomach to vomit them out, and be on her merry way. So, do as Mother told you or you'll get the price!

𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘

Intellect Arcanist / Mental DMG

A ???'s work exhibited in the 18th century for an unkown period. Completed in winter, December 10th. Originally exhibited in Birkshire, England, then the exhibit was relocated to Chicago, USA, and "claimed" by the Manus Vindictae. It is now kept under surveillance in the School of Discipline and Behaviour Modification.

Delicate, fragile, yet has an aura of wisdom. She have been put through so much pressure, so please handle carefully upon contact. Offers therapeutic sessions for those who needs it the most, if she is permitted, that is.

Medium: Boundless Knowledge

Inspired by: Wisdom of the Healer [Intelligence] Therapeutic Meditation

Fragrance: Floral and Musky - Roses, Orange Flowers, Jasmine

Fun Facts:

Precious's inspiration is the characters from Houseki no Kuni/Land of the Lustrous, meaning she's a walking crystal humanoid! She is a semi-immortal zircon!

"Working" with the Manus gave her too much pressure as she have to give pieces of her to them as a form of healing almost every hour. She almost broke herself because of it.

She was once a part of Queen Victoria's family, as the queen found her lying near the castle and took her in as her lady-in-waiting due to obedience and precious knowledge. That is how she got her name!

Aaaaand that's all folks! If you made it this far, you can ask questions about my OCs! (Please do I'll be super excited!!! X3)

[little-bunny-in-space]

M*A*S*H OC TIME

I love being a silly nerd! Literally just a self-insert

I literally just thought to myself "What if I was in the compound? What if I was a silly little bean along with the rest of them?"

NAME: Marieanne "Mutt" Wolfe

Age: 28

Gender: AFAB, presents otherwise, depending on the day. Pronouns are anything- she'll respond to she/her but secretly loves being referred to as male (ooooh lore)

Height: 5'4

Weight: 200

Physically Characteristics: Caucasian with a dark complexion, her dad was half-Latino. Dark brown shoulder length hair and light brown eyes, closer to amber. She has wide hips and a smaller chest. (Can't wait to get art of them aghhhhh)

She's from Georgia, her accent shows as much- not long and drawn out though, she refers to it as "hick." Was raised in the middle of nowhere- the closest small town was 30 minutes away, so her family mostly made their living off their farm. She's used to having close to nothing, so certain things about the compound- the ass tasting food, the terrible sleeping arrangements- she's used to, and takes in stride. This also causes her to have quite a positive outlook, as she's mostly a very positive person- much to a few others' contempt. Hobbies: Back home, she was quite different from her family- she loved to read and study, especially anatomy, botany and fauna as well. She also enjoys studying different religions and cultures- she always dreamed of travelling the world. She loves to sketch the makeup of different flowers and animals in her journals she keeps- although her family rebuke it as a waste of time. They were taught that work was their only livelihood.

She enjoys studying and music quite a bit- her grandmother immigrated from France- and brought over her taste for classical- especially Satie and Debussy. She distinctly remembers listening to them while her mother baked bread in the kitchen.

Because of her upbringing- she always strived to be better. On trips to Savannah as a child she would watch the high-class ladies walking down the street, and wanted to be like them. At age twelve she made it her meaning in life to graduate high school, make it to college and become something greater.

She achieved that dream; sort of. She graduated high school with a high GPA, much to her fathers' disdain. He threatened her life, and her mother was angry at her for even thinking of leaving the farm to go to a University. She applied- behind her parents' backs... and left them after her father threatened to beat her.

She graduated from Duke University- with a specialty in Neurosurgery, a minor in Religion. She achieved her dream- but lost her family at the same time...

She still carries parts from home with her. She loves nature, loves to bake and still likes to study botany in her free time. Oh, and she carries a stuffed yellow rabbit given to her by her grandmother.

She considers herself to be very religious. Her family raised her Southern Baptist- but she found the tradition there a bit unsettling. After studying several different religions, even dabbling in Paganism, she was drawn back to Catholicism- at first, strictly out of admiration for the aesthetics of it. She considers herself to have Catholic beliefs, although she's not confirmed, and even wears a rosary on her belt. She's still studying and making up her mind about her religion.

FRIENDS AT THE 4077

Radar O' Reilly- Radar is one of her best friends at the 4077- they first bonded on their shared backgrounds of growing up on a farm. As they get to know each other, they even share their love of stuffed animals- as she brought a stuffed rabbit from home. She enjoys helping him with his animals and worm farm too.

Father Mulcahy- He is probably her best friend there. Coming in, she dropped her rosary and Mulcahy retrieved it for her. She goes to his services every Sunday- and they even started a Bible Study together. He helps her a lot in her study of religion and offers to help her with her complicated past and religious trauma. They love analyzing Bible stories and theology, she especially loves quizzing him about the Catholic church and the Saints. They also have Biblical inside jokes they like to confuse other people with.

Margaret Houlihan- They are just complete girls together. Marieanne respects Margaret as if she were another surgeon and they hit it off right away. They enjoy sitting in each others tents, gossiping, and making terrible cocktails out of whatever they can find.

Charles Winchester- These two are definitely frenemies to begin with- He especially made fun of her for her upbringing, and she makes fun of his, name calling and all. She genuinely hates him at first… After some time together though, he becomes pleasantly surprised at her neurological expertise and her love of classical music. He becomes very intruiged by her, and her with him- She always wanted desperately the lifestyle that he gets to live- and he is surprised by her own interest in him, and how some "redneck swill" could EVER be interested in the same things. They become very unlikely friends, drinking tea and listening to Mozart sometimes. And of COURSE giving Hawk and BJ a hard time.

5. L. Rizzo- They get along, both from the deep south. They mostly enjoy making fun of all the "damn yanks" at the compound. He flirts with her offhandedly at first, but once she sets him straight with a swift backhand, they get along. Like siblings, she always makes fun of him for falling asleep and not knowing what the hell he's doing, usually visiting him at the garages to wake him up with a stupid prank.

[videochess]

Which of your OCs has the best singing voice? worst?

hmmm! here's where the chars i've posted about so far land on the Voice Quality/Singing Confidence spectrum...

ceci: great singing voice, great confidence. the star of karaoke night. (fav genres to sing: j-rock, j-hip hop, enka, tv show themes) frances: some classical training. not passionate about singing though. takes a lil work to get her warmed up enough to sing socially. (fav genres to sing: r&b, hip hop, christian rock) sportia: pretty good voice. generally not gonna sing outside of specific contexts though. (fav genres to sing: singing along to grendy's music but making the lyrics more crass, making up lyrics to video game music) mascha: middle of the road voice with limited range. loves singing as a stress relief activity. not shy! (fav genres to sing: 90s grunge, 90s alt rock, rock from local bands nobody has heard of) lobbie: voice and range are not very good but this lady likes to have fun!! a bit self conscious about her music tastes. her confidence stat raises dramatically with a few drinks in her. (fav genres to sing: songs from movie soundtracks, out-of-date pop music, r&b) grendy: her voice is bad and she's really self conscious about it. she'll sing along to music on her own but will clam up if anyone else is around. (fav genres to sing: christian rock, top radio hits) goldie: her voice is bad and she does Not care. confidence meter maxed out. her duets with ceci are disorienting & legendary. (fav genres to sing: dance, top radio hits, country)

edit: i forgot to say that goldie is the name of Dog Woman. i named her. ok thats all thank you