#so mostly nakey

[dark-lord-ivy]

Eustass "Rat" Kid, Strawrat Luffy, and Trafalgar D. Rat Law.

What problems will they cause?

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

[manasurge]

Mourynn in her Orchid outfit during the early years! (albeit a bit modified bc I didn't want to draw feet or the swirly things, thus made up shoes for her instead. Which still works as she gets heels later uwu). I'm also aware I never do the Sylvari glow right, but I don't want to overwhelm the ref with so much glow so I only did the extremities, but technically I think it would reach all the way along the leaves and such. Just pretend it's doing that. I also decided to permanently give her the Orchid wingies as part of her body since they thematically match her wrist/ankle appendages (as I have all of that for the sake of her Leafy Seadragon inspirations) + will appear on her Mordy Scion form as well (aka any leaves with the dark blue = part of body/appendages/hair, any other colour/hue = outfit). I actually had wanted them originally on her custom outfit, but changed it back then and now I have put it back again, hehe (so aesthetically they look different than the actual armour version too to match everything else). Lineart and transparent under the cut

I just use need the transparent one for her Toyhouse profile thing

[fbwzoo]

We officially have new babies reserved to come home at the end of this month or sometime next month!! 🥰 We're getting them from a breeder we've been following for a year or so & I'm excited to finally get some from her. If this experience continues going well, we may keep getting babies from her once a year or something like that.

[obstinatecondolement]

I'm not going to put anything up publicly, because my mama didn't raise no person vulnerable enough to be a beginner in public, but I started teaching myself to draw for the nth time about five days ago and it's been going much better than it ever has before.

[bananonbinary]

had to take the old screen protector off my phone BEFORE i had a chance to buy a new one, so i assume i'm about 2 seconds from accidentally spiking my phone onto some concrete as hard as i possibly can rip

[lunarlicorice]

clove 2018 v 2023

[luminesnake]

IT'S FAT FUCK FRIDAYYYYY

[cinema-wasps]

REJOICE. THE PEOPLE HAVE ENJOYED THE FEEN

[em0tionl0rd]

A full page of Springtrap's "Anatomy" doodles for all you springlock enjoyers out there.

Initially I just wanted to draw a ref for myself, so I traced Springtrap's outline off of my laptop screen (twice) and drew over them. This was mostly done to 'get a feel' for the character since I wanted to get better at drawing them. Then I went ham adding details inspired by lore, springlock videos, and fan theories, along with some of my own ideas. I looked up multiple references for the endoskeleton too. Nakey Springtrap is funny.

Eventually I want to draw each layer properly in better detail, with in-depth descriptions, and do a better job of making sense of the springlock mechanism. Consider this a rough draft.

I went through and tidied up each and every letter and did my best to recreate the background from the preview. Also I inverted the colors and went with a blueprint style to mask the creepiness of the original, which can be seen below. vvv

[isatartdump]

You draw them all so cool!!! And awesome!! But is that top surgery scars on loop 👀 (sorry I’m also curious were you thinking about anything specific when you drew them in casual clothes cause they all fit the characters So Well) sorry for bothering you I love your art

YES! I think Siffrin, Loop and Isa have top scars (CAN!! Do a stretch and say Odile has them too but I am not ready to think about it, I think she'll get more butch lesbian than she already is)… Lemme talk about them and hope I don't accidentally spoil the game HA

Loop's are more like how people usually draw top surgery scars? Mostly because I draw them by joining stars up, so it KINDA looks like stars blowing up!

I believe Isa left some really small scars just for the simbolism of finally being his authentic self or something… Since in vaugarde they transition (or honestly just find new ways to become themselves both physically and mentally) by using craft so I kinda headcanon it to be like… Treating your own body like it's made out of clay, people can just opt to have no scars whatsoever. Way easier than it is IRL, haha. I wish… Also I believe he'd put some tattoos on there to be stylish and handsome and pretty but I also don't know what kind of tattoo Isa would choose to get. If I do a modern AU I might think about it…

And Siffrin I'm. I'm working on it… I don't draw them shirtless often enough to think about it… But I see them as little lines that end on a small explosion at the end. Simple but gets a point across- More so a thing to remind him of how far they've gone rather than a thing that will be seen by other people but to fair isn't this what top scars are for us sometimes? Little reminders that things get better and how far we've come?

Now that the top scar ramble is over!!!!! Onto the thinking abotu something while drawing them casual... I was mostly thinking about clothes that would fit them in a sense of like. Fitting their body shape and just generally looked like they belong in their wardrobe. It's mostly about comfort and feeling like "Yeah they went to the store and bought that pair of pants". At least in my brain.

Making them look confident and comfortable in clothes that either fit their personality or what they usually wear kinda gets the overall feeling of "Yes of course Odile would wear that" methinks :) I'd say Loop is kinda the hardest one to dress in a way that... They would dress? Since they're. Nakey nakey the entire game but then you just work with what you think this sassy motherfucker (/aff) would wear. They have an absurd amount of personality that I think would be hard to not go into how they wear clothes

Loop my beloved. Was gonna gatekeep this last one but you guys can have it :) Also you don't bother! Thank you so much for liking my little thingies <3

[viridianv0id]

Alright.... guys

It's time

SEBASTIAN DESIGN AND LORE DUMP !!!!

Both a glowing and normal version

Now, lore dump will be under the cut!

Here is the base of Sebastian, nakey ;p

Now, those notes don't help much so heres the dump !!!!!!

1 Angler lure

his lure is a bit basic, no obvious species of angler is shown but more towards the end the colouration gets darker - something used to help camoflage the light when in the dark, made of a very soft cartilage which makes it very flexible

2 tongue

due to a bit of malformation on his face from the testing, he was given a forked tongue to help give him a better sense of smell esp while under water

3 Gills

there are two sets of gills on sebi on his neck and on his sides

3.1 neck gills

the gills on his neck aren't actually taking in any water, theyre used to filter the water and from the oxygen that he takes in from his mouth so water dosent get into his lungs

3.2 sidegills

his side gills do a LOT of the heavy lifting while hes under water, his top set of gills (black) Filters in water, keeping any particulates and other nasty junk out of his gills. While his bottom sets (blue) filter out water after the oxygen has been taken out

3.3

his lungs are still mostly human in nature, though now frills and other elements have been added to give aid to filtering water and oxygen, but also to protect what of his human lungs are left from getting filled with water and other fluids

4 lateral line

The lateral line on Sebastian spans his entire body, starting at his nose, going under his eyes, and down both sides of his body right down to the tip of his tail. Due to how deep the hadal blacksite is, being able to easily detect pressure (ha) changes and movements of others around him in places where it's dark or unsafe to use his lure.

4.1 electroreceptors

Like many fish, and especially for sharks, Sebastian has clusters of electroreceptors along his lateral line, localised to his face specifically. This gives him the ability to sense electrical stimuli, which makes it so Sebastian can sense electrical changes in others around him, giving him a high advantage over most people and creatures.

5 Scars

Sebastian has quite a few scars over his body, mostly localised to his top half as that's where his important internal organs are

Most scars hes got came from each operation that turned him into the leviathan we know him as today but he does also have quite a few after breaking containment and freeing the other Z-class entities from their own containment, fights with MTF from UrbanShade and a few self inflicted scars. (The main one being the scar on his face, as the one he had while human had seemed to vanish, and too feel like himself even a little bit he put it back)

6 Arms/Strength

With the addition of a manits shrip into his DNA his overall strength was increased greatly, his arms becoming much stronger than before - yes, his punches would hurt like hell, with his size and strength you'd be lucky to be more than a puddle of blood after one of his blows.

6.1 third arm

His third arm, smaller than his main set is actually quite weak, while not useless it's more of a supportive limb than anything, not that he likes having it anyway.

7 colouration

Sebastian's new skin tone and colouration takes on the Sam traits that a lot of fish have, darker on hid back and lighter on his stomach. His skin, especially on his lower half, has become slightly rougher in texture, being more akin to shark skin than any scaled fish, only having scales in certain places on his body (see point 9).

8 Fins

Sebastian has quite a few different kinds of fins along his body

8.1 'pectoral' fins

Just under where his human pelvis would be has two shark fins, very similar to pectoral fins, and greatly aid him in his movement underwater and a little bit with keeping himself steady and upright while on land. These are pretty rigid and Don't flex much

8.2 ventral fins

Very similar use to the pectoral fins, though they're quite useless on land.

8.3 dorsal fin (not shown in image)

Sebastian does have a dorsal fin, though it's more fish like as it spans from his shoulders, down his spine and tail, this fin helping with gliding through the water, mostly I'm smaller movements and even keeping himself still while not actively swimming.

8.4 ear fins

The fins on his head that replaced his ears have pretty much the same purpose as normal ears, though they're more sensitive and help his hearing underwater, giving him the ability to hear frequencies that humans cannot hear underwater.

9 Scales

While Sebastian mostly has a rougher sharks skin, he does have some scales. The most noticeable being his underbelly scales, something from the sea snake DNA that helps him travel more easily on land! These scales are smoother than the rest of his body so Sebastian is able to pretty much slither around

10 bioluminescenes

As many deep sea animals have bioluminesence, so does Sebastian, while only localised in certain areas. He has several lines of biolumenesence, especially down his lateral line across his face and body, as well as having some spots along his arms and collar bones.

11 Size / Whale fin

Okay, final point !!

An obvious thing about Sebastian is his sheer size, being that he's quite large and VERY long

These two factors come from the whale and sea snake in his DNA, whis also leads to his tail fin, being flat and whale-like instead of something more akin to the amount of fish in him, which this fact means Sebastian has remained warm blooded and a mammal. Do with that information as you will.

[a-twistedheartslonging]

Nudity with the mer boys. 

On one hand, it would make sense they wouldn't care about you being nakey since they didn't even start wearing clothes until getting onto land. But then again unlike the twins whose junk won’t be out unless their bodies are ready to mate + Azul's dick actually being one of his arms that he needs to use for none sex things, your junk is very clearly there when you're not wearing clothes with you being a mammal and all. More so with amab junk but still the case with afab even though it's mostly internal.

With the latter, I can't help but think at least the twins might try to convince you that being nakey around him wouldn't be a big deal and it is fine to get dressed/undressed around him, bathing together, or that you don’t need to bother with a bathing suit when it's just the two of you.

Pervy not so little fishes. 

[originalcharactersexyman]

Hiya! Howdy! Id love to toss my goofy silly mailman tf2 oc in the ring if there were slots left! His names Brodie :> Heres his toyhouse

Meet YOUR 10th Class Merc. The Courier. His name is Brodie 

From New York! Go Yankees!

Around 32-34

6"1

Lets take alook into the past: For a lot of his life he has committed ,,, so much fraud. So much. All of it. Mail fraud tax fraud voter fraud healthcare fraud identity fraud. Even credit card fraud when credit cards came out in 1966.  Frauding it up ever since he was a kid delivering newspapers and snooping in neighbor's mail. 

Eventually his fraudulent lifestyle catches up to him and lands him in prison when he suddenly became the inheritor of a minuscule fraction of Australium. And a certain group of individuals did not take too kindly to some rando getting his hands on the  insanely precious resource.  In order for the Australium to be ‘misplaced’, Brodie had to die. And die he did. Not long after being incarcerated, he was hanged for his many, many crimes. A bit of overkill, really, but it was apparently the only way. Plus a lot of the guards and inmates kept finding themselves in varying degrees of debt so two birds one stone. Miss Pauling herself attends the hanging to make sure Brodie does die and sure enough he is pronounced dead. As dead as it gets. 

Well. Mostly.

As his soul prepares for judgment in hell,  Brodie decides “I am absolutely not ready to be dead yet.” Soo he convinces Satan “hey you guys got the wrong guy. I’m blah blah blah, here’s my ID and credentials n whatnot. Here’s who you’re actually looking for” (a lie obviously) but Satan’s like “Oh shit. Um wow- this, like, never happens. Lemme…fix that real quick.” (This is intentionally left vague and about how much hell tell ya about it with changing details each time)

Back in his body, Brodie sits up, completely nakey, save for the body blanket, and startles Miss Pauling who instinctively has a gun to his face. Quickly thinking, Brodie strikes a deal; “Hey hey! Don't Shoot. Uh, listen.  Technically, I was pronounced dead.  Obviously you can keep whatever I was supposed to inherit, I won't even give it another thought but just lemme go - please?”  Sure enough, Miss P agrees, except now Brodie has to…start over again.  Which isn’t a big *deal*, but it’ll take him a minute to get back on his feet since his last identity is supposed to be cold turkey. 

Though, this gives Miss P an idea.  “Hey, do you want a job?”

So he’s back, babyyy. Brodie is a new man (who legally doesn't exist) and is recruited by Mann Co to be the teams smuggler mailman and a merc when violence is needed!!  Someones gotta deliver the mercs all their niche needs and all that, ya know? Someone who ain't afraid to get their hands dirty or have fingerprints or the same teeth they did before or leave any paper trail!  Someone who isn't afraid to break into the next city over's local zoo and get some baboon uteri and hearts for medic, or do a 24 hr trip to Australia for Saxton hale pain tonic for sniper (so they avoid import fees), wine for spy, copious amounts of Tom Jones merch for scout, crates upon very weighty crates of ammo for Heavy, etc etc. Even just snacks from each mercs country (that Courier def sneaks bites from but dont tell anyone shhhh). Or just the pizza the mercs ordered in town.

Need something delivered? Brodie is your Courier! (He has to as his contract states, lest he break it and is 'super killed'.  No its not explained what that means but Brodie don't intend to find out.)

--

He's a bit of a goofy guy.  Quick witted when it comes to fraud but would ask Alexa what 4 x 12 is. His undying passion is committing petty crimes and scams and changing people's legal last names to something like "Scrotum". He's very *very* nosy and will read the merc's mail before he even gets it to them. He's got gossip to share. He loves snacks and has an awful diet consisting of gas station foods. Caffeinated soda and donuts are go-to's, especially on the road. His fav mode of transportation is on his motorcycle.

WOOF thats a long one lol Thank you sm for ur consideration !

WELCOME ABOARD!

Seats Taken: 22/24 (TWO LEFT)

[mychlapci]

rapid fire cybertronian headcannons go

I like to think that while cybertronians look and act mostly humanoid they also do some not human things that make humans go "oh yeah, alien"

for example i think that every couple thousand years cybertronians shed their armor like some sort of bug or shrimp to get rid of damaged plating and their repair nanites go into overdrive to build new ones. during that period bots will nibble on metal to get material. a shed can also trigger early if a bot gets regularly roughed up or if they changed alt-modes recently. this could lead to a potencial hilarious situation where there's no fighting for like a week sometime after bots and cons arrived on earth since both groups got new alt-modes which triggered a mass shedding and noone wants to fight while they're squishy and itchy. que human friend coming into the autobot base and while talking to their bot friend a piece of the bot's armor just falls off. so of course human freaks out because they think their friend is dying while the bot is confused and going like "why are you screaming i'm just shedding. wdym humans don't do that?" or mabye the human comes in during the everyone is mostly shed phase and going "why r yall nakey" either way that thay humans learn cybertronians are space shrimp.

another headcannon i have is that just chilling in places in alt-mode is the cybertronian equivalent of a cat loaf. cybertronians also purr by idling their engine (obviously) and keep the joints in their hands from going stiff by making biscuits.

cybertronian sight is primarily their sensors (like sharks) with optics being a secondary sight organ and mostly just provide aditional information so taking out a cybertronians optics would do nothing but take out their sensors and they're blind as a bat because of their poor eyesight. i also like how in tfp everyone has unique optics

they can also speak with their mouth closed or without moving it since a voicebox is more like a speaker than vocal cords. moving their mouth just helps with adjusting volume or making sound clearer.

OOoh i am a “transformers shed” believer. For maintenance, or because of age, or because of injuries, i think it has many factors...

I don’t think they’d be squishy underneath, though I think that they have some silicone components that jiggle, but having raw wires and circuitry revealed is already a pretty vulnerable state to be in. (tbh I am also very fond of the thought of cybertronians being able to just remove their armour and parts of their plating on a whim… it’s rare for them to do it, but i think it could be very intimate. I will stop before i delve into places we cannot delve in this week ok)

I am absolutely down for the “optics are only a secondary sensory organ” thing bc honestly i believe that too. I actually imagine that whatever you notice on a bot’s head first, chevron, horns, finials, etc. etc. are actually most sensitive to all kinds of input, like EM fields, vibrations, sound and even light, and i know it’s not canon but i like to imagine that depriving a bot of their horns/chevron/antenna blinds them more than taking out both their optics possibly could. Not to mention, they probably have “eyes” on different parts of their bodies, as in, they can register visual input with their headlight, their rearview mirror and side mirrors. Their optics are actually very weak and taking out their sensors renders them incapable of most things.

Now what i had never considered was transformers doing biscuits to keep their joints flexible. That means medics would have to do extra biscuits so that their joints are at their best. I am now thinking about Drift coming back to their habsuite after a long day on the bridge and Ratchet’s just dozing off after an equally long shift in the med-bay, kneading the pillows happily. I am obsessed. Drift probably joins in bc as a swordsman, he has to keep his hands flexible as well. And them they’re purring their engines bc they’re comfy… aaaaah okay that’s adorable

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Let Me Be Your Anchor

Chapter 8: The Lake

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett An Offer from a Gentleman reimagined Chapter rating: T - nakey lakey time Word count: 6.1k

Masterpost Previous chapter Next chapter

Author's Notes: This chapter has a lot of segments preserved from the book, the lake scene being widely regarded as one of the golden moments in Benophie's love story. (And good god almighty what goats do I need to sacrifice to make sure we get it in the show?!? 😜) But the immediate aftermath of the lake scene also gives lots of readers the ick - me included - so as always, I have rounded things out to fit the cheeky, gentle character of Show!Benedict. Enjoy 💙

There were advantages, Benedict soon discovered, to a long, drawn-out recovery.

The most obvious was the quantity and variety of excellent food brought forth from Mrs. Wiggin in the kitchens. He’d always been fed well at Aubrey Hall of course, but Mrs. Wiggin truly rose to the occasion with him tucked away in his sickroom.

Another perk of staying abed was the simple fact that, for the first time in years, he could enjoy some quiet time. He read, sketched, and even closed his eyes and just daydreamed - all without feeling guilty for neglecting some other task or chore. 

Benedict soon decided that he’d be perfectly happy leading the life of the indolent.

But the best part of his recovery, by far, was Sophie. She popped into his room several times a day, sometimes to fluff his pillows, sometimes to bring him food or her medicinal tea which he genuinely believed was helping, and sometimes just to read to him. He wasn’t sure if her level of industriousness stemmed from a desire to earn the compensation he had promised, or to be useful as a means of thanking him. He was just happy that she came to see him so frequently. She was every bit the nurse he knew she would be.

She’d been quiet and reserved at first, obviously trying to adhere to the standard that servants should rarely be heard. But Benedict had had none of that, and he’d purposefully engaged her in conversation, stretching out the length of each visit. 

But mostly he just enjoyed being in the same room with her. It didn’t seem to matter if they were talking, or if she was just sitting in a chair, leafing through a book while he stared out the window. Something about her presence brought him peace. 

A sharp knock at the door broke him out of his thoughts and he looked up eagerly, calling out, “Enter!”

Sophie poked her head in, her shoulder-length hair brushing against the edge of the door. “I brought you some more tea.”

“Tea? Or tea and biscuits?”

Sophie grinned, pushing the door open with her hip as she balanced the tray. “Oh, the latter if Mrs. Wiggin has anything to say about it.”

“Excellent,” he smiled. “And will you join me?”

She hesitated, as she always did, but then she nodded, as she also always did. She’d long since learned that there was no arguing with Benedict when he had his mind set on something.

“Your color is back,” she commented as she set the tray down on the bedside table. “And you don’t look nearly so tired. I should think you’ll be up and out of bed soon.”

He smiled gamely, “Do you think so?”

“Yes,” she smiled and lifted the teapot. Benedict watched her hands as she prepared the tea. She moved with an innate sense of grace, and she poured the tea as if she’d been to the manner born. Clearly the art of afternoon tea had been another one of those lessons she’d learned from her mother’s generous employers. Or maybe she’d just watched other ladies closely while they’d prepared tea. Again, he noted that she was a very observant woman.

“Fix yourself a cup,” Benedict said, biting into a biscuit, “and come sit by me.”

She hesitated again. He knew she’d hesitate, even though she’d already agreed to join him. But he was a patient man, and his patience was rewarded with a soft sigh as she poured herself her own cup and sat in the chair by the bed, regarding him over the rim of her teacup as she took a sip.

“No biscuits for you?” Benedict asked.

She shook her head. “I had a few straight out of the oven.”

“Lucky you. They’re always best when they’re warm.” He polished off another biscuit, brushed a few crumbs off of his chest, and reached for another. “And how have you spent your day?”

“Since I last saw you two hours earlier?”

Benedict shot her a look that said he recognized her sarcasm but chose not to respond to it.

“I helped Lizzie and Anne with the laundry,” she said. “Then I borrowed a book from the library and read outside.”

“Really? What did you read?”

“A novel.”

“And your assessment?”

 She shrugged, “Overly romantic for my taste.”

“So you do not long for romance?” He gave her a lopsided grin.

Her blush was instantaneous. “That’s a rather personal question, don’t you think?”

Benedict tried to think of a witty reply, but as he watched her face, her cheeks turning delightfully pink, her eyes cast down to her lap, the strangest thing happened.

He realized he wanted her.

He really, really wanted her.

He wasn’t certain why this surprised him so much. Of course he wanted her. He was as red-blooded as any man, and one couldn’t spend a protracted amount of time around a woman as gamine and adorable as Sophie without wanting her. Hell, he’d wanted half the women he met, in a purely low-intensity, non-urgent sort of way.

But in that moment, with this woman, it became urgent. He suddenly had the urge to lean forward, take her face in his hands and kiss her passionately. Then pull her into the bed where he very conveniently already was. He wondered if she had ever been kissed before. 

Of course he wouldn’t act upon his urges - he was a gentleman, not a scoundrel. She had proven herself to be a personable, respectable, and highly intelligent woman and she was technically in his employ for the moment. He wouldn’t sully their mutual trust and friendly companionship by leaping upon her.

He frowned, cleared his throat, and tried to push his wicked thoughts from his mind by downing his teacup. “I’m sorry if I offended you,” he croaked. “Any chance you’d like to read some more?”

Sophie looked up at him cautiously. Was he flirting with her? She supposed it was only to be expected. He was a man after all, and had proven he was a cheeky devil in many of their past interactions. She was shaken less by the fact that he had asked her about romance and more by how similar the conversation was to the one they had had at the masquerade. There too he had tried to probe deeper, believing her to be avoidant of attachments. The truth of course in both instances was that she was hiding how much she did long for romance, because she wanted it with him.

She was grateful he had changed the subject. “Yes, I’ll read to you.” She placed her cup down and rose a little too quickly from her chair. She needed some distance from him until she stopped feeling overheated. She perused his bookshelf and they agreed upon a decidedly unromantic Shakespearean tragedy. 

Sophie kept her eyes down and read aloud, uninterrupted through the entire play. As she settled the book in her lap she found that Benedict had fallen asleep again. He could have been sleeping for an hour and she wouldn’t have known. He did look much healthier, which signaled to her that he was no longer in need of a nurse and she would have to leave soon. She hadn’t yet put any effort into looking for a new position, she had been too overwhelmed with navigating Aubrey Hall, interacting with the staff, and caring for Benedict. 

She would start looking tomorrow and would likely be gone before the week was out. She would leave Benedict for the last time. It pained her, but she knew it was for the best. She sat in silence by his bedside watching him breathe, studying the angles of his face, trying to capture the moment in her memory forever. She looked about the room too; the opulent fabrics, gleaming wood, and all of his artwork. She would miss Aubrey Hall, the beauty of its furnishings, and the warm, homey feeling it gave her. Quietly, she stood and walked around the perimeter of the room, slowly taking in each image on the walls. Sunny green landscapes bled into winter scenes which were overlapped with charcoal sketches of hands, flowers, the back view of a woman’s cascading hair.

Leaning against the desk she noticed the large sketchbook he sometimes had in his lap. She chewed on her lip, deciding how intrusive she should be. Knowing she would leave soon anyway, curiosity got the best of her and she sat at the desk, quietly lifting the sketchbook and laying it open. The first pages were of varied landscapes. Some were of Aubrey Hall and some were of Bridgerton House in London, dressed in climbing wisteria. Most of them featured no architecture at all, just a babbling brook or a windswept tree, or a rain-dappled meadow. And the amazing thing about his drawings was that they seemed to capture the whole and true moment. Sophie had that familiar feeling of stepping into the landscapes which she had confided in Benedict. He was a more talented artist than he had professed to be.

The portraits were fewer in number, but Sophie found them infinitely more interesting. There appeared to be at least one of each of his family members. Several of whom she thought must be his mother, then two dark-haired men, one dour and one jovial, who she recognized as Colin. Both of them looked incredibly similar to Benedict. A younger boy with dimples, then a series of four lovely young women. Three of them were smiling serenely, but the one with the darkest hair had a chin set with determination and eyes staring off, looking as if she were ready to conquer a nation. He had beautifully captured the new raven-haired Viscountess, whom she also recognized from the masquerade. The last portrait was of a devastatingly handsome dark-skinned man with short hair, scrunching his face in laughter. Sophie had no idea who that could be. 

Her favorite drawings were of what appeared to be some sort of outdoor game. At least five Bridgerton siblings were holding long mallets, and one of the girls was depicted in the forefront, her face screwed up in determination as she tried to aim a ball through a wicket. Something about the picture made Sophie smile. She could feel the merriment of the day, and it made her long desperately for a family of her own.

She glanced back at Benedict, still sleeping quietly in his bed. Did he realize how lucky he was to have been born into such a large and loving clan?

With a sigh, Sophie flipped through a few more pages until she reached the end of the book. The very last sketch was different from the rest, if only because it appeared to be of a night scene, and the woman within it was holding her skirts above her ankles as she ran across - 

Good god! Sophie gasped, thunderstruck. It was her!

She brought the sketch closer to her face. He’d gotten the details of her dress - that wonderful, magical silver concoction that had been hers for only a single evening - perfectly. He’d even remembered her long, elbow-length gloves and the exact manner in which her hair had been styled. Her face on the other hand, was less recognizable and almost wholly hidden by the demi-mask. Perhaps the contours of her cheekbones and chin were somewhat accurate, but the features of her face seemed soulless, nearly blurred. This made sense, she realized, given that he’d never actually seen her face in its entirety.

Well, not until now. Her heart began to pound. So he had thought of her after that night. He had thought of her enough to remember her in great detail and commit the time to drawing her, even if only just once. He had wanted to remember her - whether as a beautiful ornament of a mysterious evening or for some other reason, she could not say. But her discovery made it all the more clear - she needed to leave Aubrey Hall. She needed to leave before her secret was discovered and complicated matters any further. She would start to look for a new position right away.

___

The next morning after breakfast, Sophie decided to take a walk around the estate. Before she consulted with Mr. Dewitt about finding her next position, she wanted to form a complete picture of the grounds in her mind. She wanted to take in the fresh air and say goodbye to it all. 

As she set out through the gardens and across the lawn toward the lake she thought of Benedict, of how kind he had been to her and how much she would miss him. She would miss him more now than she had for the past two years, if that were somehow possible. Where before she had longed for the idea of him, constructed from their brief hour together at the masquerade and otherwise a bunch of fantasy, now she would miss him as she had come to know him. A gentle, witty man who had treated her with the utmost respect. It actually aggravated her. If he would just treat her like a servant, she’d have no trouble remembering that she was an illegitimate nobody and he was a member of one of the ton’s wealthiest and most influential families. Every time he treated her like a real person (and it was her experience that most aristocrats did not treat servants like anything remotely approaching a real person) it brought her back to the night of the masquerade, when she’d been, for one perfect evening, a lady of glamour and grace - the sort of woman who had a right to dream about a future with Benedict Bridgerton.

He acted as if he actually liked her and enjoyed her company. And maybe he did. But that was the cruelest twist of all, because he was making her love him even more, making a small part of her think she had the right to dream about him.

And then, inevitably, she had to remind herself of the truth of the situation, and it hurt so damned much.

Emotions swirling through her, she surveyed the expanse of the lake and marched onward into the wood that bordered it on one side. It was a lovely day, unseasonably warm and sunny, and the air held the gentle fragrance of the first blooms of spring. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d taken a walk for the simple pleasure of enjoying the fresh air. Perhaps in the forest she could find herbs or mushrooms to pick and bring back to the kitchens, maybe even go to the lake edge and dip her toes in the water if she was feeling particularly daring. The water was surely still freezing, so early in May. Still, it would feel good. Anything felt good that gave her a fleeting sense of leisure and peaceful, solitary moments. 

Sophie picked her way through the forest, stepping over tree roots, and pushing aside low-lying branches, letting them snap back behind her. The sun barely peeked through the canopy of leaves above her, and down at ground level, it felt more like dusk than late morning.

Up ahead, she could see a clearing, which she assumed must be the lake edge. As she drew closer, she saw the glint of sunlight on the water, and she breathed a little sigh of satisfaction that she still had her bearings about her.

As she drew even closer, she heard a large splash and realized with equal parts terror and curiosity that she was not alone. She was only ten or so feet from the edge of the lake, easily visible to anyone in the water, so she quickly flattened herself behind the trunk of a large oak. With her eyes she began to chart a path back through the woods that would be the quietest and most concealed. 

Her thoughts were broken by a crowing shout from the lake, “Aha!” Then the whistling noise of an object in flight, and a thud on the ground a few feet away from her. Completely bewildered, she looked over to see a ball roll to a stop in the dirt. It was wet and lavender in color, small enough to be held in one hand.

What on earth was going on? Had she been seen? Was someone throwing things at her? If she had a sensible bone in her body, she’d turn right around and run back to the house, but she just couldn’t quite keep herself from peeking around the tree and looking to see who might be lobbing objects into the woods and be mad enough to splash about in a freezing lake.

Dropping to a crouch to try and stay hidden, she leaned slowly around the trunk until she could see the surface of the water. 

And she saw a man.  

A naked man.

A naked Benedict.

It was wrong of her to stay.

So wrong.

So very, very wrong.

And yet she did not move an inch. 

She found a large, bald-pated rock, mostly obscured by a short, squat bush and sat down, never once taking her eyes off of him.

She still couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. He was, of course, partially submerged, with the surface of the water rippling against his rib cage.

The lower - she thought giddily - edge of his rib cage. 

Or perhaps if she were to be honest with herself, she’d have to rephrase her previous thought to: he was unfortunately partially submerged. What she could see of him was magnificent. He had lean, smooth muscles and broad shoulders. Water droplets glistened in his dark hair and across his pale skin, making him sparkle like a gem.

Sophie didn’t care if it made her wicked to stare. Dash it all, she was curious, and she was already in love with this man. She’d spent her life taking the safe road, the prudent path. Only one night in her short life had she completely thrown caution to the wind. And that night had been the most thrilling, most magical, the most stupendously wonderful night of her life.

And so she decided to remain right where she was, stay the course, and see what she saw. It wasn’t as if she had anything to lose, as she was planning to leave anyway. And so she sat back, tried not to move a muscle, and kept her eyes wide, wide open.

___

Benedict had never been a superstitious man, and he’d certainly never thought himself the sort with a sixth sense, but once or twice in his life, he’d experienced a strange surge of awareness, a sort of mystical tingling feeling that warned him that something important was afoot.

The first time had been the day his father had died. He’d never told anyone about this, not even his older brother Anthony, who’d been utterly devastated by their father’s death. But that afternoon, just moments before he had heard his brother’s cry for help and his mother’s screams from the front lawn, he’d felt an odd, numb feeling in his arms and legs, followed by the strangest pounding in his head. It hadn’t hurt, precisely, but it had sucked the air from his lungs and left him with the most intense sensation of terror he could ever imagine. 

He had been with his siblings in the drawing room, watching them play while his pregnant mother rested in the conservatory nearby. When he managed to regain control of his limbs amidst the shouts from outside, he gathered the children, holding little Gregory by the hand, and guided them all out the door to see what was going on. By the time they saw the bent form of their mother holding their father on the grass, he was already dead, having collapsed after being stung by a bee. Anthony had marched toward them all, eyes wide with shock and streaming tears, and could barely speak as he ushered them back inside, beginning the darkest period of their lives. Benedict still had difficulty believing that a man as strong and vital as his father could be felled by a bee, but there had been no other explanation, it was just a cruel twist of fate.

The second time it had happened, however, the feeling had been completely different. It had been the night of his family’s masquerade, right before he’d seen the woman in the silver dress. Like the time before, the sensation had started in his arms and legs, but instead of feeling numb, this time he felt an odd tingling, as if he’d just suddenly awoken after years of sleepwalking.

He’d stepped outside to steady himself with some fresh air, and then he’d seen her, and he’d known she was the reason he was there that night; the reason he lived in England; hell, the very reason he’d been born.

Of course, she had gone and proven him wrong by disappearing into thin air, but at the time he’d believed all that, and if she’d let him, he would have spent the rest of his life proving it to her as well.

Now, as he stood in the lake, the water lapping just above his navel, he was struck once again by that odd sense of somehow being more alive than he’d been just seconds earlier. It was a good feeling, an exciting, breathless rush of emotion.

It was like before. When he’d met her. 

Something was about to happen, or maybe someone was near. His life was about to change. It was the last thing he had expected when he decided to go for a swim that morning, to test his renewed vigor and shake the lethargy of being bedridden for days. He took a step into slightly deeper water, the soft sludge of the lake bottom squishing between his toes. The water reached a few inches higher on his body. He was bloody well freezing, but at least he was mostly covered.

He scanned the shore, looking into the trees and down in the bushes. There had to be someone there. Nothing else could account for the strange, tingling feeling that had now spread throughout his body. 

“Who’s out there?” he called out.

No answer. He hadn’t really expected one, but it had been worth a try.

He squinted as he searched the shore again, turning in a full circle as he watched for any sign of movement. He saw nothing but the gentle rustle of the leaves in the wind, but as he finished his sweep, his eyes landing on the ball he had tossed ashore, he thought he could see something in a nearby bush, and he somehow knew.

“Sophie!”

He heard a gasp, followed by a flurry of activity as the bush shook and twigs began to snap.

“Sophie Beckett,” he yelled. “If you run from me right now, I swear I will follow you, and I will not take the time to don my clothing.”

The sounds of her movement ceased.

“It’s alright,” he called out, trying to show her he was good humored, despite having to yell. “Show yourself.”

There was a beat of silence, followed by some more rustling and slow, hesitant footsteps. He watched as she emerged from behind the bush and moved to stand at the shore, dressed in her threadbare cloak and the lavender dress of the housemaids. Her hands were balled into fists at her side and her jaw was locked. She was flustered, and it was adorable.

“What are you doing here?” He grinned at her.

“I was on a walk. What are you doing here?” she countered. “I suppose this means you are fully recovered, though that”  - she waved her arm toward him and, by extension, the lake - “can’t possibly be good for you.”

“I am feeling much better, thank you.” He continued grinning, loving how it seemed to make her grow more aggravated. “I had to get out of that stuffy room and refresh myself. Were you following me?” He sank down and began to tread water playfully.

“Of course not,” she replied and he believed her. “That would be indecent.”

And then her face went completely red, because they both knew she hadn’t a leg to stand on with that argument. If she had truly been concerned about decency, she’d have left the area the moment she’d seen him, accidentally or not.

He lifted one hand from the water and twisted his wrist as he motioned for her to turn around. “Turn your back and wait for me to come out,” he ordered. “It will only take me a moment to dress.”

“I’ll go to the house right now,” she offered. “You can have your privacy and…”

“I’ll need you to walk back with me,” he cut her off, “in case the water has brought my cold back and I fall ill.” He stuck out his lip in an exaggerated pout and could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. “Or if I twist my ankle.” Still she glowered. “Or if you twist yours.”

“Mr. Bridgerton,” she sighed, exasperated.

“Stay put,” he ordered and started to advance out of the water.

Once he moved, her eyes bugged out of her head and she whipped around, turning her back to him.

Sophie crossed her arms and stared at a knothole in a tree trunk as if her very life depended on it. The infernal man wasn’t being particularly quiet as he went about his business, and she couldn’t seem to keep herself from listening to and trying to identify every sound that rustled and splashed behind her. Now he was emerging from the water, now he was reaching for his clothes, now he was…

It was no use. She had a dreadfully naughty imagination, and there was no getting around it. Her skin felt like it was on fire, and she was certain her cheeks must be eight different shades of red. A gentleman would have let her weasel out of her embarrassment and hole up in her room back at the house for at least three days in hopes he’d just forget about the entire affair.

But Benedict Bridgerton was obviously determined not to be a gentleman this afternoon and was clearly taking his time getting dressed. 

“I’m sorry I came upon you unexpectedly sir, but it feels like you are just toying with me,” she grumbled.

“You are free to face me at any time,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “I assure you that I asked you to turn your back for the sake of your sensibilities, not mine.”

“I’m fine just where I am,” she replied. The absolute devil was in this man.

After what seemed like an hour but was probably only three minutes, she heard him say, “You can turn around now.”

Sophie was almost afraid to do so. He had just the sort of perverse sense of humor that would compel him to order her around before he’d donned his clothing. 

But she decided to trust him - not, she was forced to admit, that she had much choice in the matter - and so she turned around. Much to her relief and, if she was to be honest with herself, a fair bit of disappointment, he was dressed, though his white shirt was clinging to him and transparent with the water from his skin. She swallowed to keep her composure.

“Do you truly need me to walk you back to the house?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes,” he said. “Take it as punishment for spying on me.”

“I wasn’t - “ Sophie’s denial was automatic, but she cut herself off halfway through, because of course she’d been spying on him.

Benedict raised an eyebrow at her, smirking, “That’s what I thought.”

She scowled at him. She would have liked to have said something cutting and witty, but she had a feeling that anything emerging from her mouth just then would have been quite the opposite, so she held her tongue.

“It’s very bad form to spy on one’s host,” he said, crossing his arms and managing to look both authoritative and relaxed at the same time.

“It was an accident,” she grumbled.

“Oh, I believe you there,” he said. “But even if you didn’t intend to spy on me, the fact remains that when the opportunity arose, you took it.”

“Do you blame me?” She had found her witty retort.

He grinned. “Not at all. To tell the truth, I’m quite flattered.”

“It was academic curiosity,” she smirked back at him. “I assure you.”

His smile grew sly but he didn’t say anything further. He just held her gaze until she felt her legs would give out beneath her.

“Well,” she chimed, tearing her eyes away from his. “Now that we have that settled, shall we return to the house?”

“Let’s,” he nodded, stepping toward her. “Ah,” he bent and picked up the lavender ball, giving it a toss in the air. “Almost forgot this.”

“What is that?” she asked.

“This,” he grinned, holding it up triumphantly with a raised pinky, “Is my chance for redemption.”

Sophie just stared at him with a furrowed brow.

“Pall mall.  Have you ever played?” She shook her head. “Well, it’s something of a family tradition you see,” They started to walk slowly through the trees, Sophie following at his side as he explained. “Every season when we come here for our country ball we start things off with an annual tournament. My brothers and sisters and I have been playing since we were children and now the competition is…” he stared off, searching for the right word. “Well, it’s brutal. A key part of the game is to knock your opponent’s ball off course and there is quite an established history of balls ending up in the lake.” 

Sophie smiled, intuiting the rest of his story.

“Last year,” he huffed, “my sister Eloise was rather overzealous and managed to send my ball,” he held it up again, “straight across the water. I had to sit out the rest of the games.”

“You couldn’t use another one?” Sophie asked.

“Oh no, no, no,” Benedict shook his head emphatically. “There are rules and we honor them. Well,” he smirked. “Some of us do. Anyway, there are no other balls to play with. The rest are all claimed, except red of course,” At this point they had stepped out of the wood and were back on the sloping lawn beside the lake. He looked pensively out over the water. “We never managed to find that one.”

Sophie smiled again. “I’m glad your swim reunited you with your ball and it didn’t share the same watery fate.”

Benedict looked down at her and stared into her eyes, saying nothing. He was looking at her today with a new intensity, a burning behind his bright blue eyes that reminded her of how he looked during the masquerade. It made her shiver in a wonderfully delicious way. She needed to make it stop.

She turned on her heel and began walking up the lawn toward the house. After a beat he followed behind her. “So, your family will be hosting the country ball again this year?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Yes,” he mumbled. “They should arrive in a week or so.”

“Oh,” Sophie paused, remembering her task for the day was to look for a new position and make ready to leave Aubrey Hall. Now with the whole Bridgerton family and their aristocratic guests en route, it was more imperative than ever that she depart quickly. “I’m sure it will be lovely,” she said weakly.

At this point they had reached the edge of a garden bordered with flowering cherry trees. She slowed her steps, taking in the sight of the beautiful blossoms and enjoying the fragrant air. 

“What are your plans for the day, Miss Beckett?” Benedict asked behind her.

She turned to face him. “Actually, seeing as you are well again,” she took a deep breath, “there is no further need for me here. I shall find a new position as we agreed upon. I expect it won’t be too difficult and I should be gone before your family arrives.”

She was not expecting his face to fall the way it did, the way his lips parted and his brow knitted as if he had just received terrible news. His eyes darted for a moment, then he cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “Of course,” he nodded. “I’m sure Mr. Dewitt can assist you.”

“Yes,” Sophie sighed. “I’ll go and meet with him now.” But her feet were rooted to the spot. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to leave Aubrey Hall and she didn’t want to leave Benedict. Especially not when he kept looking at her like that, and not when he seemed to share some of her sadness at the thought of parting. But what was she supposed to do? Ask to stay on and work as a maid, drawing herself deeper into the heartache of being around him and risking the discovery of her secrets? Throw herself upon him this very moment and kiss him? No. Her mind knew what was right, even though her heart and her feet were not obeying it. So she stood, warring within herself until she managed to lift one foot and turn back around, feeling as if she had lead weights in her shoes.

Her eyes had barely left his when Benedict reached out and grabbed her by the arm, “Miss Beckett,” he yelped with urgency.

Sophie froze. He had never touched her, not unwarranted like this, since they had been reunited. He had helped her onto his horse and she had held him while they rode to the inn, but he had not reached out to her in any way since. Why would he? He was an aristocrat, her employer, and she was just a maid. But his grip was around her elbow, not too tightly, but insistent nonetheless. She looked back at him.

Benedict seemed to realize how inappropriate he was being and released her with a small nod of apology, “Sophie,” he said, softly. “Before you leave,” his eyes were darting again. “Would you allow me to paint a portrait of you?” 

“A portrait?” This was certainly the last thing she had expected to hear.

Benedict nodded, “A small one,” he grinned nervously. “You can keep it as a token of my gratitude.” 

Sophie didn’t know what to think. Again he was showering her with kindness, piling favors and gratitude upon her when she had done little more than use common sense and help him get over a cold. No one had ever painted her portrait before and she was unlikely to get the opportunity again. It was an aspect of life reserved for the upper classes. Her father had never included her in the family portraiture when he was alive and family was the last thing the Cowpers regarded her as. She was everyone’s shame to hide, to be forgotten, to be erased from memory. Benedict’s offer moved her deeply. 

“How long will it take?” she asked, trying not to sound rude. “I really should go before the country visit.”

“Not long, One sitting, maybe two. I’ve done plenty in my time.” He smirked. “I’ll finish it while you look for a new post.”

Sophie felt her heart swelling. There was no reason for her to refuse him and of course she wanted to spend more time with him. If she could leave Aubrey Hall with his painting she would have some small piece of him to keep forever. Whenever she ached for him, she could look at his initials and touch the brushstrokes made by his hand. Maybe it would help ease the pain.

“I don’t have anything to wear for a portrait,” she blushed, looking down at her simple servant’s uniform.

Benedict smiled gently. “It doesn’t matter. I only need to capture your face.” He stepped closer, inches away, looking down into her eyes with that fathomless smolder again. She could feel his breath on her skin. “The rest can be whatever you’d like.”

Sophie had to stare at the ground or she feared she would fall over. She nodded briskly, “Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton. I would be honored by such a gift.”

She could hear his relief as he exhaled. “Very good,” He backed away, making it safe to look at him again. He looked practically giddy. “Tonight after dinner, meet me in the nursery. My supplies are in there. Come as you are.”

Sophie nodded, unable to hide a smile from her own face. Then, while her legs were still in working order, she turned and strode quickly through the garden and toward the house, leaving Benedict to make his own way, her punishment be damned.

Tagging: @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @eg-dr3amer3 @time-to-hit-the-clouds @lyta2323 @autumn-grace @sadprose-auroras @the-other-art-blog @goldrambutan @colettebronte @heeyyyou @musicismyoxygen84 @faye-tale @ambitionspassionscoffee @starchaser325 @malna4903 @sincere-sarcasm @kmc1989 @makaylan

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

Aphmau sketch for whenever she has to go elsewhere for like politics and shit (also her nakey because I wanted to draw her markings)

Brightport, as a merchant village, as a lot of money for a village it’s size and so it has rather extravagant style for its social class. It mostly takes inspiration from O’Khasian fashion, with darker, richer colours being more fashionable, as well as longer corsets/stays and longer, flowy sleeves. Where it deviates is with its minimal jewellery. In the east, things such as pearls are common (unlike the west) so it is seen as tacky or gaudy to wear too much of them. Gold is the preferred metal of choice for jewellery, because of religious superstition, and for similar reasons it is believed one should not wear too much of it. Donna and the village ladies dress her for Brightport, as many of them have lived in the village for a time and know what to make her wear to make her look presentable. That said. They did not measure things right and her boobs were out way more than intended (and is proper in Brightport fashion)… but hey, maybe that’ll help her negotiate.

Meteli, whilst also a merchant village, focuses on local trade as opposed to region-wide trade, as well as making good relationships with their neighbours. Whilst Brightport is more convenient for trade throughout the region as it is set into the mouth of the river they lay across, making it easier to access for those who are uncommon with navigating the river itself, Meteli has proven themselves extremely skilled in traversing the river and the lands surrounding. Because this river reaches to Scaleswind, Meteli has a close relationship with the city, and as such share small samples of their popular fashions. They prioritise brighter colours, thinner fabrics, shorter corsets made of expensive leather, and jewellery, lots of it. Whilst the mentality around pearls in Meteli remains similar to the rest of the east for a time, after they give a large amount of them to Aphmau as a thank you gift for allowing them into the alliance (because they knew she liked pretty things) and she wore them because of how she loved them, it brought pearls back into style, driving up the price of them and inevitably making Aphmau look fucking loaded when she wore them around casually. Accidental fashion icon

Cadenza styled her Meteli look, though Aphmau’s pearls were a personal choice of hers to try and say thank you.