#msjanebond

[widowsmisery]

plotted starter for @msjanebond.

darkness closed around linda's new jersey home, and long hours had passed since the moment an old friend returned bearing news. information, as valuable to her now as fame and riches would ever be. however, the question that had plagued linda's every, waking moment still remained. did she really, truly wish to hear to what bond had to say? how, and most importantly, where to find this particular kind of monster. 

once she did, once she knew, there would be no turning back. committing murder was, as some people said, the point of no return. 

cigarettes and alcohol —both of which had left their scent behind on the actress' breath— had long numbed her senses, and after setting her empty glass down on the coffee table, linda opened her mouth to finally cut the silence that had settled between the two women. wrapped up in satin shawls, the once natural, rouge of her cheeks replaced by emptiness. pale, and almost deadly so. 

❝ tell me. how's life looking for our friend, mister cassetti? ❞

[brokenragdoll]

“ I lost the baby. ”

writing prompts || accepting! - @msjanebond

tears had drawn a path down her cheeks, a mixture of wet mascara and rouge powder damping sally’s flesh. but she didn’t look away, didn’t open her mouth to speak and instead, the doll reached for jane’s hand to hold it between her own. pallid fingers that closed around an equally pale wrist, thumbs brushing in comforting circles over the pulse point she found there.

she too knew the pain of a great loss, she too had cried herself to sleep —- every night and ever since she could remember, teardrops had been shed across the pale pink fabric of her hotel pillow. despite their differences they were the same, and sally saw her own suffering reflected in the woman’s eyes.

and how she loved those eyes.

❝ it hurts, doesn’t it? thinking about what it could have been, i know that it does. ❞

[drdumaurier]

@msjanebond​ liked the starter call

     Sitting straighter on the couch, Bedelia looks at the woman she supposedly knows. ❝Hi. Who are you?❞

[namcdesire]

❝ Can’t fall in love? But a life without love, that-that-that’s terrible! ❞

Finger round the rim of her glass, idle distraction. She can’t stand to look up at Jane now, not when she knows how full her eyes will be with sincerity. It almost makes Blanche want to slap her, her earnestness, the way that she says everything she means and means everything she says. It would be letting her off easy, really. Someone will hurt her worse if she insists on walking around this way much longer. Unguarded, raw soul on display everywhere she goes. It isn’t safe. There’s a reason Blanche has buried herself so deep she hardly remembers who she is anymore. There’s a reason the sight of sincerity makes her sick to her stomach with unfamiliarity. There isn’t any room for it here. You can’t be so open, raw as a wound. Blanche smiles distantly, eyes glossed faintly over. “Maybe. A life without a home? Worse. A life without protection? Worse. I chose this life as much as it chose me. I chose safety.”

[lealinea]

( @msjanebond liked for Diana )

     She sighs happily, falling into step beside her companion. “I shall never tire of this type of cream treat—is there a way of making this in one’s own home? It would be much easier on my funds, if so.” Diana glances at Jane, smiling. “Is there any particular reason you did not get one as well?”

[whatwakes]

@msjanebond liked for a starter.

          Karen couldn’t say exactly what made her do it. Maybe it was the way the woman startled when she was approached, just enough for Karen to notice, the shock rippling up her body and the tension in her jaw and her eyes when she turned to the man who had approached her. Karen watched their exchange, him hitting on her, playing at casual friendliness, and the woman’s expression growing colder and colder.

          She was holding her own--she didn’t need Karen to intervene, as was obvious from the way the man’s expression fell--but she intervened anyway. Karen took an indirect route, circling behind the man so that the blonde woman could see her coming and wouldn’t be startled again.

          “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” she said to the woman, a perfect stranger. A hand went out. Karen resisted her habitual urge to touch, only letting her fingers hover along the other woman’s arm. “Oh--you made a friend?” She glanced back at the man.

          “No,” he said. “No, I was just going, actually.”

          When he really was gone--and Karen thought he’d never leave--she looked back at the other woman. Her smile was tentative. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you, uh, handled him, but... I didn’t want you to feel alone.”

[mxdam-a]

9, 10!

9. Through what way does your muse most often convey their affections? Are they subtle, obvious, or somewhere in-between?

oh yes, margarethe is very subtle with her affections, quite a low-key individual, you can never quite tell what she’s feeling, very soft-spoken too... just kidding

she is OBVIOUS. any person who’s had her plaster herself against them purring like a kitty can vouch for that. she tends to express affection in random touches--piling on you and giving you lots of kisses when she’s feeling Amorous is the most high-key version of this. she will also be much freer with casual, non-sexual touches with you, which, considering how she doesn’t like to be touched, is an unquestionable expression of intimacy, even though it’s usually just stuff like... putting her feet on you from the opposite side of the couch (because of course she does), or inviting you to put your head in her lap.

10. Are there any actions your muse sees as showing absolute trust in someone else? Something they might not openly enjoy but might eventually tell someone about?

honestly, margarethe allowing you to see her without makeup on is probably The act of trust. i don’t mean like, being caught off-guard when she’s not decent and then enduring your presence (ahem, missy), but like... letting you spend the night in bed with her and then wake up to her makeupless face... totally unguarded, unarmored... for her that’s a big deal. it says something about the role she’s letting you play in her life.

sensual sunday. :: @msjanebond.

[galxhxd]

[ @msjanebond continued from here ]

BLEACHED sheets against metal framing, loose clothes and bare walls. A swirl of white and gray, but for restraints adorning wrists and ankles, clasped tightly and secured with care.

ADORATION and pride, rather than malice, drive that sharp greeting. Some foolish ambition, perhaps, to keep this undignified image, and its many unpleasant connotations, carefully hidden. There is sadness in the eye that now finds Bond – even if the accompanying tone remains jagged steel.

❝Your purpose here being?❞