dim sea, hear my most piteous story

lucie | 19 | she/they| writeblr, w.b. yeats enthusiast and professional pedantic nitpicker | formerly stuff-lucie-wrote | current wips: "deep heart's core," "cloudbursts," "at dawn in the rose garden" | i follow from ladyoftheharbour | questions welcomed!

[wherewindysurgeswend]

ok so i realized i had never made one of these so... let’s go.

about me

my name’s lucie! it’s pronounced the same way as lucy. you can also call me lu if you want.

i live in quebec, in eastern/central canada.

i’m 19 years old

i’m currently in cégep, which means i recently graduated high school and i’m in the process of doing a two-year pre-university degree.

she/they pronouns please :)

queer

white jew

i’ve been writing since i was a little kid.

my non writing interests include sewing, old hollywood (check out my main account, @ladyoftheharbour), atla/lok, classic literature and music (this is a socialist folk music stan account).

about my writing

usually a period setting but not always, often inspired by old hollywood in some ways: notably i’ve done some screwball comedy and noir stuff.

lesbians. always lesbians.

trying my best at diversity.

usually not too dark or depressing.

i write ghost stories too sometimes bc i like spooky stuff

my wips

deep heart’s core

a combination romance and tribute to 1930s screwball comedies. follows a young journalist as she tries to make it in the newspaper business, falls in love with an heiress, and navigates the complicated social environment of high society in the 1930s.

keeping time (this one is actually done but it’s recent and i’m v proud of it)

a ghost story set in wales shortly after the end of wwii. a librarian and a schoolteacher set out to find the owner of an old pocket watch they found on the beach, but it turns out the answer to the question “who does this watch belong to?” is a little more complicated than it seems.

cloudbursts

in the 1950s, two former showgirls begin a cross-country road trip and learn that some friendships never leave no matter how long you stay apart.

[inthedarktrees]

“Sunbathing on studio roof is regular lunch hour procedure. Girls save money by eating at an inexpensive restaurant, The Grotto, across the street.”

Bob Landry, “Life Visits Nine Hopeful Starlets,” Life, Feb 18, 1946

[myvintagevogue]

Avisco Fabrics 1959

[jeniferprince]

let’s run away and don’t ever look back

check more of my work on instagram // buy prints here

[wherewindysurgeswend]

1 & 12 :)

1 - who wins best supporting/side character? phyllis... she is SUCH bitch but so fun to write as a result.

12 - best costume design i would have to say miriam in at dawn in the rose garden just by virtue of the fact that she's the character who i think has has the most cohesive sense of style

[wherewindysurgeswend]

1, 2, & 7!

1 - who wins best supporting/side character? phyllis... she is SUCH bitch but so fun to write as a result.

2 - whiniest bitch? it's larry </3 don't get me wrong he's earned the right to be whiny but it's still him

7 - who wins outstanding plot fucker upper? kathleen... she just loves to do stuff that creates random subplots that i shouldn't have time to deal with

[jezifster2]

✨️OC Awards Nominations Asks✨️

Who wins best supporting/side character?

Whiniest bitch?

Dealing With Trauma Unhealthily Award

Lost a Parent The Youngest

OC Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive

Who wins Best Fight Sequence?

Who wins Outstanding Plot Fucker Upper?

Best Monologue?

Most Tragic On Screen/Offscreen Death?

Best Kiss?

Most Sympathetic Villain?

Best Costume Design

Best Playlist?

[yodaprod]

The Arizonan Motel, Tucson AZ (1989)

[5669dusktarot-archive]

jus some oc emoji asks!

💜: gender?

💗: romantic/sexual orientation?

🤔: do they generally think things through? do they overthink things sometimes?

😶: is there anything they have a hard time communicating?

👥: who's their closest friend? is it easy to tell why they get along?

🌡️: whats their favorite weather?

🙄: their pet peeves?

🎈: favorite holiday/celebration?

🎶: what's a song you associate with them?

✍️: handedness? what's their handwriting like?

💿: favorite music? genre, album, artist, instrument, any of the above

🍳: how do they like their eggs, if they eat them?

🎱: do they believe in divination? practice any form of it?

🥀: ever had their heart broken?

💅: grooming habits?

🤝: how do they feel about physical touch?

🗣️: what's their voice like? pitch, talking speed, emotiveness? got a voice claim for them?

🤭: are they easy to fluster?

🌟: how optimistic are they?

🏃: are they athletic? do they want to be?

🐈: do they like animals? do they have any pets?

🥦: do they like vegetables, generally speaking?

🍀: do they believe in luck?

🖍️: would they consider themself creative? what's their favorite way to express that creativity?

🤬: do they swear often?

🍭: do they have a sweet tooth? what's their favorite dessert?

[the-night-picture-collector]

Streets of Old New York, 1950s

[wherewindysurgeswend]

as promised, some snippets from at dawn in the rose garden (no particular theme, just the ones i was happiest with)

transcript under the cut

Keep reading

[wherewindysurgeswend]

taglists (send an ask to be added or removed)

general taglist: @olimpias @pagesofcursive @macabretypewriter

aditrg taglist: @absolute-nonsense-scribblings

[wherewindysurgeswend]

as promised, some snippets from at dawn in the rose garden (no particular theme, just the ones i was happiest with)

transcript under the cut

image 1: 

Our nearest neighbor was a middle-aged woman whose property bordered ours on the south side. She had a mane of thick, jet-black hair with a few silver threads running through it, tiny crow’s feet on the sides of her cheerful brown eyes, and dimples that came out whenever she smiled. Her features were the type that might be called dramatic – long-lashed brown eyes with dark, slanted brows, a noble Roman nose, high cheekbones and a mole perfectly placed near the left hand corner of her expressive mouth. She could often be seen floating around her garden in long, flowing, dresses of brightly coloured linen and cotton, her hair tied up in a silk scarf, the stacks of silver bangles and beaded necklaces that adorned her arms and neck gently ringing with every movement. Seen through the eyes of a child, she was unbearably beautiful and glamorous. Her name was Miriam Zimmerman. 

The townspeople called her an eccentric, and I suppose she was. Her manner was unmistakably theatrical, and she could sometimes be seen wandering around, gesturing emphatically and talking to herself under her breath. Mrs. Wilson, who owned the general store, told us she had lived there for over 20 years. “She came from California,” she explained, “I’m not quite sure what she did before… of course, there are rumors, but I won’t trouble you with that.” 

image 2:

My mother had never been one to talk too much about her feelings, and that didn’t change while she was grieving my father. I suppose she wanted to be strong and stable for me, but that  wasn’t all. My mother was an incredibly proud woman. She was concerned with her image and reputation to the point of obsession, and I know it would have destroyed her if she thought her new acquaintances could see how much she was hurting. So she did what she always did: she turned her pain inward and funneled all her energy into whatever she thought would be useful and – more importantly – seem normal. In this case, it was home improvement projects. That summer, she painted walls, built shelves and bookcases, installed new cabinets in the kitchen, fixed the plumbing and power lines, replaced shingles on the roof, built a chicken coop, sewed new curtains, waxed floors and plowed the land to plant vegetables. I helped her occasionally, but, more often than not, she would quickly become frustrated with my lack of skill and send me off to wander the property alone.

image 3:

The water boiled, and I watched her pour it into the teapot. While it steeped she asked me questions, which I answered, and I asked her some in return, which she gracefully evaded. I would soon find that graceful evasion was one of her most impressive skills – and later still I would learn why. 

[nonsensical-pendulum]

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION: LUPA LYCAON

[image description under the cut]

“Still say he’s a demon.”

Pushing the brim of his hat back, Johann raises an eyebrow at Sebastian. “Are you still on about that?” He rolls his eyes, discarding a three of diamonds from his hand. “Just because no-one ever sees the man doesn’t mean he’s supernatural.”

“You don’t know, Hannie, and neither do we,” Kent says, picking up the three and grinning. “Gin!”

Lycaon - 33 | he/him | 6'10 | mysterious | ruthless | cunning

Magic - a presumed all-weaver, doubly presumed to be able to transform into a wolf

Appearance - rumors abound regarding a black suit, wolf's fangs, eyes as black as his heart, sharp claws... but no-one knows for sure

Songs - Nightmare | 2econd-2ight-2eer (that was fun, goodbye.) | Little Dancing Skeletons | Weight of the World | Absinthe | Flick of the Wrist | The Man Who Built The Moon | Laplace's Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!) | For the Departed | Sleepless Night (Prelude)

[image description: a moodboard of three images that form a rectangle. the images are a bookshelf filled with old, thick books, a chess board with the white pieces reflected in the board itself, and skeleton statue with it's hand outstretched. all the images have an overlay of smoke and are all desaturated. a rectangular dark purple border outlines the entire thing. all the images have an overlay that gives them the texture of old photographs. /end id.]

[nonsensical-pendulum]

hello lupa nation taglist! i bring... Actual Content

@sybil-writes @purgatorydotexe @poisonedpatchoulis​ @dreamlande @kishons @andifthestarsweretodie @kowlazovdi @godknives @ofbloodandflowers @starryeve88 @wherewindysurgeswend @ashen-crest @crowsandlace @writing-is-a-martial-art @quilloftheclouds @magic-is-something-we-create

[olimpias]

❝ ᴏʟɪᴍᴘɪᴀꜱ - ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʙʟʀ ʀᴇɪɴᴛʀᴏ ❞

i have decided to make a reintro once again since i have just changed my url (i was kishons previously) and i also wanted to start being a little more active on here again so here we are!

ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

nel

16

she/xe

i usually write either historical fiction, historical fantasy or things inspired by classic literature, poetry and music. I have a special love for romantic horror short stories so expect to find plenty of them here

my main wips are Cosmopolitan and Doll Face, however, i plan on introducing some new stuff here soon, both short and longer!

ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙʟᴏɢ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛɪɴɢ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ

like historically inspired wips of any kind

like lgbtq+ fiction

like byronic heroes (very dramatic, mysterious characters with a dark past and a soft heart)

like romantic horror stories

like wips with social conflicts and criticism

ᴛᴀɢɢɪɴɢ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠᴏᴜʀɪᴛᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʙʟʀꜱ, ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ :3

@macabretypewriter @wherewindysurgeswend @absolute-nonsense-scribblings @euphoniouspandemonium @alias-levi @aphaimaniis @ziyin @bookphobe @ladywithalamp @ryns-ramblings @ashen-crest @blindthewind @ladywithalamp @writingbyjillian @arkicts @kalliopeian @ariadnaes

[nonsensical-pendulum]

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION: RORY DARLING

[image description under the cut]

“Oh, Kay…” Comes Rory Darling’s sing-song voice.

Kay groans.

“Door’s unlocked, Darling, what do you want this time?”

“Darling? Don’t you think that’s a bit forward?” Darling grins, sauntering into Kay’s office. “At least buy me dinner, first.”

He lightly kicks the door shut with a foot before flouncing into the chair nearest Kay’s desk. Lighting a cigarette, he kicks his feet up on the corner of the desk.

Kay shuffles some papers after a moment or two. “What do you want, Darling.” He glares at the oblivious Darling in question. “I haven’t got the time to watch you scuff up my desk and blow smoke rings.”

Rory Darling - 31 | he/him | aromantic-pansexual | 6'3 | charismatic | sly | devilish

Magic - none... unless you want to count his devastating wit or "positively magical" charm

Appearance - despite his being a star almost entirely of radio (to his chagrin), he is possessed of matinee-idol glamor and good looks. high cheekbones; bright blue eyes; dark, reddish-brown hair elegantly wavy and styled after errol flynn, almost; a thin, debonair mustache; and more faint freckles across his nose than an ardent admirer can count; all topped off with a dazzling--though some might say "sharp," on occasion--grin. part of his persona is a gaudy magenta sport coat striped with almost iridescent gold-tinged pinstripes with a pair or sharp white trousers, however, he does not perpetually wear the not-very-1942 outfit--forgoing it in favor of an attractive blue pinstriped suit that brings out his eyes. his preferred accent-pieces are small, delicate pieces of gold jewelry, and, funny, the cut of the sapphire in his stick-pin looks rather like the ones stolen from lady devereaux last year... then again, a star as rich as he surely frequents the same high-class jewelry stores as lords and ladies. lithe and energetic, many wonder why he isn't on the stage more often... especially since he seemed all set to move to broadway, before America closed it's borders.

Songs - Lights Go Down | The Bitch Is Back | Mr. Pinstripe Suit | Play, Orchestra, Play | Swing! Brother, Swing! | The Good, the Bad and the Dirty | Night Eyes | Mr. Magpie | I Can't Decide | Let Yourself Go

[image description: a moodboard of three images that form a rectangle. the images are a tray of champagne glasses that look golden, a cropped still from the 1932 movie "jewel robbery" of trays of stolen jewelry, and old lightbulbs arranged along an archway. all the images have an overlay of smoke and are all desaturated. a rectangular dark magenta border outlines the entire thing. all the images have an overlay that gives them the texture of old photographs. /end id.]

[nonsensical-pendulum]

taglist (send an ask if you want to be added/removed!): @sybil-writes @purgatorydotexe @poisonedpatchoulis​ @dreamlande @olimpias @andifthestarsweretodie @kowlazovdi @godknives @ofbloodandflowers @starryeve88 @wherewindysurgeswend @ashen-crest @crowsandlace @writing-is-a-martial-art @quilloftheclouds @magic-is-something-we-create

[olimpias]

WIP INTRODUCTION « RUSSIAN GISELLE »

”There once was a very lonely girl in a very big city. She didn’t know she was lonely, though. ”Oh no, I am not lonely“, she would say and laugh a little. “I have my feet.”

working title: Russian Giselle

genre: drama

setting: mostly pre-covid moscow with parts taking place in Paris, London and Sicily

status: drafting

POV: third person limited

themes/aesthetic: lgbtq+ cast, The Ballet Prodigy™️, the smell of old gowns, russian winters, longing for bygone times, being alone on a dark stage, jealousy (a lot of it), avoiding your own emotions, empty old palaces, the pain of being seen as someone without a heart

summary:

Having just turned 18, Janice Fiordiligi Pascuzzi is one of the youngest members to join the Corps de Ballet of the famous Bolshoi Ballet. Even though she has yet to prove her talent in front of the great ballet masters around the world, it is quite clear that one day, she will be among the very best of the world.

Who is she though? Nobody could really say for she has never told anyone about herself. Apart from the fact that she attended several of the best ballet schools around the world, including the Paris Opera Ballet School, and that her parents are two very distant, very glamorous figures that occasionally show up and cheer her with a glass of sparkling champagne, she stays just as anonymous as if she wore a white paper mask. Does she mind being left alone all the time? Well, if she does, she’s wonderful at hiding it and gets all the best parts anyway.

Behind her back, people say that it is her porcelain face that does it and maybe that’s the truth. After all, porcelain doesn’t show its feelings either, right?

taglist under the cut (ask to be +/-)

russian giselle taglist: @yeseninas @ziyin @kg-willie

[olimpias]

cosmopolitan quotes + fake screencaps 

taglist under the cut (ask to be +/-)

Keep reading