#i know nothing about colouring

[huh-huhyourself]

The typewriter and the typist, in the rain…

So this is my first OC, not perfect, even not good. It's an alternative universe which shits didn't start from 1933 (or not so much), mixed both classic one and DE. I don't want to plague the most of original story, so I only want to put her in background people if I can draw more next year just in case.

Sure the profile contains many grammatical errors. Which one's more difficult, drawing, fighting Omicron and my ADHD, or writing this in English with a help of Google Translate, it's all of above.

No more paper dolls next year, I swear.

I should buy a tablet, the cheapest one, though it won't change anything.

I should finish the game first…

(I may edit the following anytime. Not sure if there are any logical errors.)

About Her

Name: Lucetta Leonforte

Nicknames: Lu, Moon

Alias(es): Moonshine

Gender :Female

Birthdate: May 31st

Nationality: American

Place of birth: Detroit

Current residence: Lost Heaven

Spoken languages: English

Occupation: Assistant of home bakery(day), side work typist of LH Paint & Wallpaper Co.(night)

Eye color: Grey

Hair color: Blonde

Height: 5'7"

Scars: A perforating gun-shot wound on right waist

Sibling(s): A brother (7 years older than Lu)

Father: Lorenzo Leonforte, Enzo the baker, sounds familiar?

Mother: A women from Milan

BACKGROUND STORY

As a third son, Enzo immigrated to America with his wife and his firstborn in early 1900s for some family businesses.

One year later, 3 cugini (Lu's) joined the Leonfortes in Detroit, it was a hard time for everyone.

At some point before 1910, Lucetta was born on a stormy night.

Lu had a bad cold before she could remember, after that she got a husky voice and tears fall out when she sees the sunshine during the daytime. She always wears a hat/8-piece on sunny days when she's outside.

Her mother left them when Lucetta was sick, her parents had a major fight because her mother didn't want herself and her son trapped in this life. Enzo never mentions them again and Lucetta never asks.

In some year of early 1920s, the Leonfortes moved to LH to do a favor for an old friend.

Now they rent a building in Little Italy which used to be an old small hotel (not far from the bar), the first floor is their bakery.

TRIVIA

I heard you paint houses.

"I heard the Leonfortes are good executors, too bad the youngest one's a girl." says an anonymous person.

The side work is working for someone named Baskerville.

Lu's father is a distant cousin of Vincenzo, because I want to so she can call him uncle Vinny LEGALLY.

The Leonfortes are actually doing the bakery business (taste the peach pies), meanwhile they "import" something like explosives and others too complex to say right now. They are not a part of the Salieri family, more like one of the suppliers.

"Best Powder Best Dough" printed on the bakery's front windows.

They have their own delivery cars but also have a fake Rothco's Bakery one, cause they're everywhere in the city.

Lu does some of these deliveries about 3 times a week, bread, cakes, and other things better handled with care.

She only does the deliveries for her family now.

She likes uncle Vinny's business more than her father's.

Some of the side work's outfits are her father's, so don't fit very well.

She loves sitting on a bench near the lighthouse, watching the clouds, the sea waves, thinking nothing.

She's a good listener, usually she won't give any advice.

She hasn't watched the end of Sadie Thompson because she has slept.

Yes, she has a bike.

Family motto (to Lucetta)

Don't in. (Don't get involved in things you can't handle.)

Don't out. (Don't run away from your own family.)

Don't ask. (Don't question the order.)

Don't talk. (Just don't be a rat.)

Don't date with mobs/cops/lawyers/doctors especially shrinks.

​Don't get caught.

Don't die. (Be safe.)

"Generally 'Don't do this, don't do that. '" says Lu.

"'I won't put any bread which is made in a factory into my mouth!' says Don Salieri." says me.

[marihem]

@fransweek 2024

Day 1: Blushing (literally)

[finzphoenix]

H...Him... *////*

[laundrybiscuits]

Eddie’s doing some dumb trick with a couple of wooden spoons, clever hands making them move through the air in improbable ways, and Steve’s about to bite his whisk in half. 

He’d thought for sure that Eddie would be going home the first week; Edward Munson, 29, bartender/musician from Brighton with mismatched tattoos and wild hair, seemed like exactly the kind of pretentious asshole who would flame out early with some ill-advised hipster experimentation. If Steve (28, social worker from Indiana, USA) had been a complete asshole, he’d have said that Eddie didn’t have the fundamentals. That he was all sizzle, no steak. 

It’s a good thing Steve’s not a complete asshole, because Eddie’s been blowing the technicals out of the water so consistently it’s actually pretty fucking embarrassing. His signatures and showstoppers are making a very respectable showing too, except for the time he tried to incorporate some fresh pandan extract and fucked up the liquid ratio, leaving him with a dripping mess that Mary’d declined to even try. 

Afterwards, Steve had seen him leaning against a tree and struggling to light a cigarette. Steve went over for no particular reason, flicking on his lighter and holding it out like a peace offering. Eddie looked at him warily, but bent over the offered flame. 

“Can’t believe I made it through this one,” Eddie said after a moment, white smoke curling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I feel like that every week.” Steve leaned against the tree next to Eddie. It was a big tree, the kind that’s probably been growing in this field since before England was even England. 

“Nah, but—c’mon, you know what I mean.”

“You had some bad luck with your showstopper. Happens to the best of us, man. Your signature hand pies looked sick as hell.” Steve’s own hand pies had turned out pretty well, so he was feeling generous. It had only been the third week; plenty of time for Steve to snag Star Baker, though even by that point, Steve had been getting the creeping feeling that he was being a little too American about the whole thing. Everyone else seemed to think competitiveness was some kind of deadly sin. It was—actually kind of nice, to get the same kind of nerves he’d always gotten before high school basketball games, but know that he wasn’t really fighting against anyone except himself in the tent.

Anyway, the very next week, Eddie had done some kind of kickass gothic castle with a shiny chocolate dragon and gotten Star Baker for the second time. Steve had clapped him on the back, appropriately manly. Eddie had pulled Steve into a real hug, arms tight around Steve’s shoulders and his whole lean body pressed up close and warm. It had only lasted a moment, and then Eddie had bounded over to Mel and Sue, both of whom he’s been thoroughly charming since the get-go. 

Steve thinks that when this season—or, uh, series—airs, no matter where Eddie places, the entire country is going to be just as charmed. Eddie’s going to get whatever kind of cookbook deal or streaming show he wants. Sponsors will take one look at that handsome face and charismatic grin, and a whole world of possibilities is going to open up for Eddie. 

Steve’s not in it for any of that, of course. He’s here kind of by accident, because Robin pushed him to apply, and it’s a goddamn miracle he’s been holding his own. Hell, it’s a miracle he’s in this country at all. When Robin had started looking at the Cambridge MPhil program in linguistics, she’d said wouldn’t it be great if and he’d snorted, yeah right, like I could ever get whatever job I’d need to move to another freaking country, but then—well. Things had happened the way they’d happened, and now Robin’s almost finished with her degree and Steve is taking time off from the London charity he works at in order to be on Bake Off. 

He’s told all this to the cameras, plus the stuff about how baking started as a way for him to connect with the kids he used to babysit in Indiana, blah blah blah. He thinks it’s probably too boring for them to air, but he gets that they have to try to get a story anyway. 

Eddie Munson, on the other hand, is probably going to be featured in all the series promos. Steve is rabidly curious about what Eddie’s story is, but he hasn’t worked up the nerve to just ask. It should be the easiest thing in the world. They’ve got kind of a camaraderie going, the two of them; a bit of a bromance, as Mel’s put it more than once. 

It’s true they get along pretty well, and the cameras have been picking up on it: on the way Eddie’ll wander over to Steve’s bench like a stray cat whenever they get some downtime, how they wind up horsing around sometimes, working off leftover adrenaline from the frantic rush of caramelization or whatever. There’s the time Eddie had hopped up on a stool to deliver some kind of speech from Macbeth, of all things, and overbalanced right onto Steve, who had barely managed to keep them both from careening into a stand mixer. Sue had patted Eddie on the shoulder and said, “Well, boys, that’ll be going in the episode for sure.”

They both get along with the other contestants just fine, of course, but they’re two guys of about the same age with no wife and kids waiting at home. It’s only natural that they’re gravitating together, becoming something like friends, Steve figures. It’s pretty great that he’s getting at least one real friend out of this whole thing.

It would be even greater if Steve could stop thinking about Eddie’s hands in decidedly non-friendly ways. With all the paperwork he’s signed, he can’t even complain to Robin about how Eddie looks with his sleeves pushed up to show off the tattoos on his forearms, kneading dough and grunting a little under his breath with effort. Steve had almost forgotten to pre-heat his oven that day. 

Two benches away, Eddie fumbles the spoons he’s been juggling with a clatter, and he bursts out laughing, glancing over at Steve like Steve’s in on the joke. Steve grins back, heart twanging painfully in his chest, and thinks: well, fuck. Guess this is happening.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Besties can't enable pvp on each other, right?

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[tklpilled]

how i think different genshin characters would react to being asked if they're ticklish

[kimtaegis]

blue joon ♡ for @rkivedfiles

cr. namuspromised

[lee-luca]

"Jiang Cheng and/or Jin Ling doing archery! 💜💛🥰" prompt via @dismalsheen

[sarcasmandships]

so much (for) stardust constellations

[cuervosolsticio]

Radio demon is back in town, y'all! Let's show a big big big smile!

[loversmore]

smiley gun for @hyunsung ♡

[mayhemspreadingguy]

YT decided that I apparently want to listed to podcasts about figure skating which immediately transported me back to the dreamling skating au brainrot of course x'D

@arialerendeair I didn't forget about the chat we had about pair skating, my brain circles back to it from time to time. And I finally got back to finishing this sketch, thought you might like it so I'm tagging you :).

Also, if anyone's wondering, yes, this was definitely inspired by pair skaters Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir. again.

[kazoo-the-demjin]

Kind of feel bad for people who head into the books after having already engaged- even passively- with the aftg fandom. like there are so many things that are meant to surprise you. the 'oh's. The looking at everything with neil's pov and only after completing the series realizing what a fucking idiot he was at times. The kisses. Those reveals. The thunderclap of "Doesn't mean I wouldn't-***". Somehow, those guys already know all this. They know at the end there's gonna be a pairing, and that kinda takes away the beauty and surprise of it. They know about a game, the deaths, the characters. It's kinda sad they're never gonna enjoy it the way we did

[goosimp]

Hello kitty final boss

[theswedishpajas]

💙🌌💀🌌💙

[ponk-fonk]

Oh my god is that doctor who?!?!?!?!?

@whovianscarf