#claircouteau

[grayedclouds]

i don’t either

okaY GOOD IM NOT THE ONLY ONe

[kontrabandiist]

claircouteau

"So how was prison?"

"Did you drop the soap?"

[irretrievabledelicacy]

claircouteau

Violet Winters was never a superstitious person, definitely not; her favourite pastime was picking the cracks upon the ground to step on as an infant, so was walking under ladders and camping outside with her little brother on Friday the 13th. Regardless, she still had a withheld enmity for Tuesdays in general, despite being a non-believer of irrationality involving the universe and shear devil's luck provided by encountering a certain happenstance. 

She just genuinely resented that hell-damned day; it’s never a day off work, never a 'hump' day and never part of an extended weekend, unless that Monday-night party left you incapacitated--and, coincidentally, it's the same day when she was so gracefully abducted by a bunch of members from some sort of hate-club (it was so hard to distinguish between her fans and her foes nowadays); each inch of her carapace tinted by instruments of affliction owned by vindictive shadows in mourning. The fact that they had ruined her favourite shirt as well, leaving her slip into some worn-out red shirt she found in a farmhouse a couple of miles ago, wasn't necessarily helping the situation at all. The fact that she still had her leather jacket, however, was merely the only reason as to why she wasn't on the verge of mass murder.

Nevertheless, there she was, chocolate curls an anarchy of its own, standing somewhere with surroundings dull and unfamiliar, hitchhiking. The female fatale street racer, the proud owner of countless of divine cars, was resorting to that; oh, the smell of brutal irony.

[indiepositivity-blog]

claircouteau and all her blogs are the light of my life! she has this incredible way of making her characters come to life. she's a lovely human being and her writing is sublime!

[spoopyfane]

paigxnator replied to your post

jfc i am shaking at that entire blog. but what they said was BULLSHIT. ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT and don't believe any of it for a goddamn second

optxmiste replied to your post 

they must have gotten you confused with someone else bc that submission doesn't sound like you at all. what a load of horseshit. jfc

cynismes replied to your post 

[everything that person said is bullshit and says more about them being an ass than anything else. don't listen to a coward who hid behind a burnbook to start up middle school-esque drama. /hugs]

dxdger replied to your post 

//oh my goodness, I'm so sorry. What that person said, whatever it was, was more about them being a horrible person and nothing to do with you. You are amazing.

claircouteau replied to your post 

-hugs you tight- what they said is absolute bullshit and you're amazing darling

Thanks, guys. It really means a lot to hear. I'm going to try and ignore it, I think, because really I don't know exactly what I could do to make the things they pointed out any better? Tbh, I really don't understand half of it and im really surprised bc i don't think of myself as a member of the les mis elite so... so I think that's all I can do at this point? I mean, unless someone comes off anon to talk about what specifically there's a problem with, there's not much else I can do.

[ofscepticism]

claircouteau replied to your post: i think you should do an au with me

dexter au's are life and i will attempt them in every single fandom ever ever. come to me chlo e

[consultingsister-archive]

// claircouteau

It was rare that Cecelia dealt with slipups. She was the unseen puppeteer to the whole organisation. She was small and dainty and not at all frightening, the men she hired to deal with those who stepped out of line seemed a much better determinant. Until Miss Holmes open her mouth. She could be cruel and terrifying and she didn't even need to touch you. She seemed to find your weakness as soon as you stepped in the room and she would turn it against you without a moment thought. 

She had called him in because of the nature of the slipup. In her eyes, personal lives and the work of her employees were not to cross. She was sending a message by inviting him down to her office, an open plan penthouse in Manhattan. She would make him sit outside and quake in his boots a good twenty minutes before calling him in.

"Benjamin Leclair. Please, sit. Would you like a drink?" 

[consultingsister-archive]

claircouteau replied to your post:idk whats got cee wound up but she’s v loud and...

she could be ben’s boss pft

pLEASE YES PLEASE