#ophelia tbt.

[quantumleapt]

“I’ll discretely use my own discretion,” he begins, twirling around the TARDIS console in tune to the instrumentation emanating from some unknown speaker. “I’ll arrange for making all arrangements,” he pops up again, on the other side of the console with a flourish.

“I’ll proceed to plan the whole procedure, just leave everything to me!” He winks at @theresastargirl , flashing her a grin. // starter call.

[stealingpotatoes]

dont you know the stick figure market is very profitable.

oh shit well i better get on that

[misskohane]

"Días de lluvia"

[khronoes]

you go to a red carpet event and the sounds of cheers boom before you see her. you see luciana in a dress that seems to shimmer, like waves under rays of sun, with every step she takes. it looks like she's practically wearing rivulets of water. she's alluring and charming and she smiles into every camera with practice and poise. she meets your eyes and you take note of her smile. it's sad, she doesn't look like a girl made whole. and she's not looking at you. she's looking somewhere beyond you, over your shoulder as if there's someone standing behind you. she looks at this invisible person and she swallows hard before she turns back to give the other reporters her magazine cover grins.

[composer-of-the-night]

ANONYMOUS PENNED:

While Gustave was a bundle of joy and laughter, openly affectionate, sweet and tender as his mother, his younger sister Ophelia? Well, she didn't have a lot to say for herself.

Even at almost three years old it was clear she could talk, she was advancing quickly, but she was quiet, timid, didn't smile much, serious and stubborn as her father. There were ways she expressed affection though, as her father played the piano in the front room of the farmhouse, she wordlessly clambered onto the stool next to him, and tapped on the highest note with a tiny finger to get his attention. She looked at him with those eyes so similar to his own, that deep pink birthmark on her right cheek. "Hello." She said, just the tiniest of smiles on her face.

AS quiet and reserved as his Ophelia was, Erik and his daughter had a keen way of understanding each other. She was remarkably like him; stoic and fiercely intelligent, even at only three years.

THE tapping of the C8 brings him out the trance he so frequently finds himself in when composing. Erik opens his eyes to see Ophelia perched on the stool beside him, the tiniest of smiles on her face.

" HELLO, " he greets with his own smile. Though he loathes being interrupted, his daughter's presence always fills him with a sense of joy. He picks the girl up by her waist and sets her into his lap, placing a kiss against her mop of wild curls ( her hair is as dark as his once was, but the curls are solely her mother's ). " Did you simply wish to hear me play? " he asks, beginning to idly pluck at the melody he had been composing. " Or did you have a different request? "

[slautertm]

“ come on in! take a seat! i’ll fix you up a plate, there’s more than enough to go around! “ ophelia, @hatchetswung says, and stephanie lauter is frozen in place.

there’s this heavy guilt that filled steph whenever she was around any of the spankoffski’s. when she’s around pete, the guilt fades away quicker, and is starting to not even hit her at all, but his family? even with pete alive and breathing and… somewhere ( maybe out with ted? she didn’t know and if she wasn’t right in front of pete’s mom she would more outwardly show her panic and check her phone to make sure he was alright ) and she was here- albeit steph came unannounced. she just... needed to be not alone. being alone now with pete's mom, though? yes she needed the company, but oh her guilt only grew at the thought of coming inside--- what would she say? what could she say? how much did she know? oh she hopes this is not what pete's anxiety feels like...

she swallowed, looked down briefly before looking back up at the woman, trying to push away that guilt and the nerves, not being sure what she thought of her, if she liked her or apporved or whatever or-

knock it off lauter. stop thinking.

" if you're sure i am not being a bother. i uh... i really didn't mean to intrude or anything. " she doesn't move all the way in, but does take a step, waiting for the woman to take the invitation back.

[kyukicho]

@legacychosen asked: 😘 ophelia & licht right back atcha

They had made it to the top of the tree. Sitting on nearby boughs Licht idly dangled his legs as he watched her pluck at little blossoms. With a smile she leaned in and gave him a soft kiss, placing one of the blooms behind his ear.

Licht's expression didn't change much. But it did soften. A very faint smile appearing on his lips. This was nice. Warm weather and good company. He couldn't ask for much more. Too bad piano's don't fit in trees.

[bebemoon]

kate winslet as ophelia in "tbt: hamlet" (1996) .

[sweetmiremoonie]

TBT #33

Therion was my main character of choice throughout both of my playthroughs of Octopath Traveler (I have yet to play Octopath Traveler 2). I liked him the most because purple, thief, and trust issues. And yes of course I made his secondary job a dancer, not just for stat buffs but also because he looked fab~ This is kind of unrelated but my main team for my second playthrough was Therion, Alfyn, Tressa, and Ophelia~

⭐️🩷⭐️🩷⭐️🩷⭐️🩷⭐️🩷⭐️🩷

🌙 You can find me elsewhere here 💕

💖 I hope my artwork brightens your day~

💫 My artwork is free for personal and public use with credit

❗️Please do not repost, trace, or use my artwork for financial purposes

[indigo-girls-fan-talk]

#tbt to 1994 when the tour for Swamp Ophelia slayed us all

[asphuxia]

/ * REVUE STARLIGHT.

As opposed to outward appearances, the villa is all but abandoned within; the sets and people shift as easily as sand. It is a mess of organisation and as busy as a hive, the chatter of the crew only ever overpowered by D’Silva’s shouting. The castmates and stage crew are both assembled on set, and it does not take a keen eye to understand that they had no wishes to speak with them— if they were interested at all. They meander behind the productions, and Eir catches Mireille, D’Silva’s supposed ‘daughter’ keeping her eyes on them. Beside her is a youth who introduces himself as Donnie with a grin, though he seems clueless of his purpose here. Constantly on standby, and yet only ever needed to act as a stuntman— though he notes that none of the actors resemble him in the slightest. Eir frowns, slight, though she does not press further. Perhaps the both of them would warrant a revisit.

Pale eyes glaze over the structure of the rest of the building, and Mireille’s eyes follow them as they leave to observe the rest of its space. Rats follow their courses within the corners of the kitchen of the ground floor, slipping behind cupboards and leaving their spoils. It’s cluttered with evidence that crew members frequent the place, with dishes and pots stacked upon the countertop. It is nothing compared to the great kitchen within the academy’s dining hall, brimming with chefs and their assistants. The main stairwell is out of bounds, roped off for the safety of the crew— though it did not seem that anyone would wish to risk going up with it. Eir inspects it from where they stand; it seemed victim to rot, breakage, and general poor maintenance. But there are two more floors and plenty of other rooms within the villa left for them to explore, with the grace of the smaller stairway in the back of the kitchen.

They proceed upwards. Though the second floor seemed largely reserved for sets and other aspects of the production, the uppermost was intended to host dressing rooms and apartments. The third floor is mostly empty, with nearly all of those working on the project on set. A breeze whistles in through an open window, and the silence of the floor is nearly gratifying. Eir skims over the names upon the plaques as they proceed, taking note of what she could remember. A girl loiters around what is labelled as Adela’s apartment while the songstress performs below, possibly one of her attendants. Somehow, she reminds Eir of heroes within the Order— when they had little to do, substituted in battle for someone else. Bored. The Helian steels her nerves, and approaches. If they were to start anywhere, it may well be here.

The girl is leaning against the doorframe as they walk up to her, idly waiting around. As Eir introduces herself and the rest of her group, she exchanges her own name— Esa. Her demeanour seemed to glow far brighter than it had been only moments ago. Eir smiles; it was true, such simple greetings alone gave way to better days. She asks about the crew of whom Esa works with, to which she replies: “Oh the crew? They seem like OK folks. I haven’t been here long, but they’ve been nice enough to me. Why do you ask?”

“How long have you been here?” A pause. Eir hesitates; she tries to place her words carefully. “We are… looking for someone. Have you noticed anyone or anything… strange during your time here?” Eir glances at Adela’s plaque behind them. “… Or anyone notable at all?”

“I used to do maintenance for businesses around the opera house for… hm, probably a year. D’Silva asked me to come work on a new project he was starting a couple months ago, but he kind of made me think I’d be doing… well, more maintenance. Didn’t think I’d be waiting on a songstress.” She wrinkles her nose, but she doesn’t seem entirely displeased by the situation. She leans back against the doorframe as she gazes up at the ceiling to consider whether she had seen anyone of interest lately. “Anyone notable… To be honest, the staff is always changing. I couldn’t tell you who’s been here for months from the folks just visiting.”

Eir’s interest rises at that. So unused to the work, though she does not seem to be troubled with where she has landed. A slight tilt of her head; Eir studies her closely. “Adela, yes? What are your impressions of her?”

“What are you, reporters?” Esa laughs. “Miss MacFhearghail is nicer than you’d expect. Honest. I know she’s got some bad rep with folks but— I mean, I don’t know the details— but she’s been in this business a long time and she’s got the record to prove it. I don’t mind waiting on her, even if she can be fussy and ill-tempered sometimes.”

The noble nods, committing the information to memory. Perhaps it was worth speaking to the songstress when next she had time to herself… A slight frown pulls at the ends of her lips, puzzled as the Helian’s thoughts return to Esa’s previous words. “Is D’Silva so prone to sending home those who work for him? Surely he must keep more than some around with greater permanence.” On a project like this… and with mismatched talents? It seemed odd to need so many people if they were not adequately fitted to their purposes. Eir glances around, though she knows the only occupants of the floor were members of the crew. “Who visits the sets?”

“I don’t know if D’Silva is actually firing people or if they just… stop showing up. This ain’t exactly a standard job, and most of the crew is used to producing operas. Not to mention the actors… I get the impression they don’t think D’Silva’s vision will amount to anything in the end.”

Eir blinks. They did not think highly of this project— of their director’s ambitions at all, and yet would see it through to its end. Perhaps it is the marvel of D’Silva’s ‘miracle device’ that convinces them to stay? But if Esa is right, perhaps few are staying at all..

Esa stops to think again, this time for a long time, obviously digging deep into her memories to draw out an answer. “No one really stands out… Oh! I’ve seen a redhaired guy show up once or twice. Doesn’t hang out for long, but his hair—“ She makes a gesture like combing fingers through her hair, which is black and braided nearly to her waist. “It’s the color of an apple, I swear. You can’t miss ‘im.”

A furtive glance is given in the direction of the three who had accompanied her, to suggest that they approach the man Esa had described whenever he may appear. If he would be remembered for anything beyond the colour of his hair, it would be well for them to remember him as well. The possible suspects were far too many within this place… they must narrow down their search. Eir looks to Ophelia, who seemed that she might burst with questions to ask— and thinly smiles. Go ahead.

@sheereccentric , @valaskjlf , & @mjolnrr !

[cithaerons]

a lot of men aren’t going to see women as three dimensional or equally intelligent, no matter what.... It sucks, it really does, but that’s how it is.

[clarafell]

❝ The fifteenth and last one to come is Love. Nobody has seen this Devil yet. The night is not yet over. She will not end the night again. We are the mourners, the theater troupe of this mortal world. ❞

This blog is a independent and private roleplay blog dedicated to Homura Akemi from the Puella Magi Madoka Magica franchise. This portrayal of Homura will be canon divergent with influences from the anime, manga, and occasionally spin-offs. You can find all variations of Homura on here. This blog will contain major spoilers throughout the whole entire franchise. Dark themes will be present on this blog because the franchise is grim once you look past its cute looks. Activity can be low sometimes. Established in 2018. Written by Ophelia or Lia.

Important Links— Carrd. Promo.

[mahotoai]

I absolutely love ships where one character is usually serious and distant, but when they talk to that one person, their voice turns soft and gentle and is suddenly filled with fondness that they don’t show to anyone else.

[kyukicho]

@legacychosen asked: “I’ll protect you.” ophelia 2 licht

Stubborn angels don't need protection. He would probably insist. But protection from a fellow angel was actually appreciated. Licht was welcomed into this sense of security. Taking his time to lay out on the lawn beneath the warm sun.

"You don't mind looking after me?" Angels must always be on alert after all, they couldn't be dosing in the afternoon light. He would feel safe with her watching over him. "Thanks."

[serialksser]

acaban de conocerse pero ophelia y julia, bye

♥️ who said "i love you” first: honestamente siento que sería julieta y lo haría en un momento súper cheesy, tipo maybe después de que tuvieron sexo o en el medio de una cena o cuando estén acurrucadas viendo televisión, algo así súper cliché y romántico bc she’s like that. ♥️ who would have the other’s picture as their phone background: ay me imagino que ambas, y probablemente tienen la misma foto bc they’re cursis. ♥️ who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror: obvio que julieta, como se despierta muy temprano para ir a trabajar probablemente después de bañarse siempre le deja notitas a ophelia en el espejo. ♥️ who buys the other cheesy gifts: dIOSSSSS, estoy casi segura de que ophelia y julieta llora porque no puede creerlo.  ♥️ who kisses the other awake in the morning: julieta, pero no busca despertarla. simplemente creo que le gusta mucho darle besitos antes de tener que levantarse. ♥️ who starts tickle fights: ninguna. siento que no son mucho de cosquillas ahre ¿? pero julieta está 100% on board con las peleas de almohadas. ♥️ who asks who if they can join the other in the shower: oOF por supuesto que ophelia (y la julia la deja porque obvio sí). ♥️ who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch: ay, seguro que ophelia va a la oficina de julia y le lleva el almuercito y julieta llora otra vez, JAJAJAJA. siempre va a llorar she’s emotional :( ♥️ who was nervous and shy on the first date: cien por ciento julieta. me imagino que los primeros veinte minutos de la cita está de que no se lo puede creer todavía DJSHFJKS. ♥️ who kills/takes out the spiders: ophelia porque julieta le diría algo así de “déjala, no hace nada” y al rato estarían infestadas JAJAJA. ♥️ who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk: ay, me imagino que ophelia. julieta no bebe at all, entonces es ophelia quien hace los shows y julia siempre los disfruta y probs la graba, tiene una carpeta en su celular que son puros vídeos de ophelia borracha.

envíame una ship y contestaré estas preguntas ♡