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vinniesasslicker1 · 6 months

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Sick Angel Vinnie Vincent x (Neutral Gender) Reader (Fluff) 1979

shitty moodboard!

It's been 2 days since your lover had gotten a cold. The poor thing had been coughing and sneezing. You had been bringing him cough syrup every 4 hours. He'd even cry because of how awful he felt. You couldn't help but feel bad for him, the poor angel had never been sick before.

"My human... I don't feel good at all..."

His soft pink lips start to quiver as tears start to fall from his beautiful green eyes after he swallows his medicine.

"I know, angel, I'm sorry... Wanna take a shower? I can wash your hair and your wings for you,"

You offer calmly.

The angel nods his head and gets out of the bed, heading to the bathroom.

"I'll be there in a second, Vinnie!"

You call out to him while you put on a mask and a pair of gloves.

After a couple of seconds, you walk into the bathroom to find the angel pouting with tears still rolling down his cheeks. You were surprised that he even accepted, considering how stubborn he likes to be. You turn the shower on, making sure it was the perfect temperature for him.

You put a stool in the shower for him to sit on and gesture for him to get in the shower.

"The shower is ready, honey,"

Vinnie walks towards the shower and sits on the stool, letting out a soft sigh as he feels the warm water cascading over him.

You pour a small amount of shampoo into his hair and rub it in. As his hair was covered in shampoo, you decided to let it sit while you rubbed shampoo into his wings.

As you finish rinsing him off, you wrap a towel around him and dry him off. You begin to brush his hair, trying not to hurt him.

He's been pretty quiet...

"You okay, Vinnie? You've been very quiet,"

He nods. He clearly doesn't feel like using his voice.

You take the gloves off and rub lotion on his body. As you rub lotion on his face, you stare into his red puffy eyes. You give him a soft smile, attempting to comfort him.

He giggles softly as you tickle his sides.

After he brushes his teeth, you lay him in the bed and give him a kiss on the lips through the mask, earning a soft chuckle. As you pull the blanket over his unclothed body, you rub some vicks on his chest and under his nose.

"Good night, sweet angel."

You whisper to him

He inhales and exhales in relaxation, drifting off into a deep slumber. You watch him sleep peacefully for a couple more seconds before blowing him a kiss and leaving the room to wash your hands, heading to the couch right after.

He sure was lucky to have you.

#vinnie vincent #kiss band #vinnie haters DNI #angle vinnie

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fionajames · 6 months

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my ocs aesthetics

WELCOME

THIS IS WHAT I DO INSTEAD OF PAYING ATTENTION IN CLASS

THESE ARE AESTHETIC MOODBOARDS FOR MY CHARACTERS

I MADE THE MOODBOARDS USING PICOLLAGE BUT ALL IMAGES I FOUND ON GOOGLE.

images below the cut

Dhole:

Vector:

Menace:

Dice:

Bloodshot:

Xi:

Mit:

Vick:

Meerrt:

Taki:

Satsuki:

Rin:

Iniko:

TELL ME UR FAV

TELL ME ANYTIHGN

#clone wars #star wars #clone troopers #the clone wars #501st legion #clones #tcw #corrie guard #coruscant guard #212th battalion #jedi #jedi padawan #jedi knight #civillian #my ocs #ocs #oc #ka’ra writes ❤️

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inevitablemoment · 4 days

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MARTHA RYAN - OC INFO

FULL NAME: Martha Rosemarie Ryan

NICKNAMES: Mar (by everyone), The Emissary of Tiamat (by Tiamat, Gozer, and Ariadne), Titania (by Jonathan)

FACECLAIM: Donna Dixon

FANDOM: Ghostbusters (1984-1989; 2021)

BIRTHDAY: July 20, 1958

ZODIAC SIGN: Cancer

SEXUALITY: Bisexual

GENDER: Female (she/her/hers)

OCCUPATION: School nurse (1981-1987) || Unofficial medic for the Ghostbusters (1985-1987) || Doctor of internal medicine (1991-currently)

BIRTHPLACE: Ann Arbor, Michigan

LIVES IN: Ann Arbor, Michigan (birth-age 10 months) || San Francisco, CA (age 10 months-18) || Philadelphia, PA (age 18-22) || Manhattan, New York City, New York (age 22-29) || Paris, France (age 29-39) || Nice, France (age 39-currently)

NATIONALITY: American, French (naturalized)

FAMILY:

Jonathan Seibert (fiancee, deceased 1979)

William Ryan (father, deceased 2010)

Francine Ryan [nee O'Keefe] (mother, deceased 2012)

Oliver Ryan (brother)

Maureen Ryan [nee Sweeney] (sister-in-law)

Kerrie Ryan (niece)

Janis Ryan (sister)

MOODBOARD

CHARACTERISTICS: Melancholy, people-pleasing, feisty, impatient, kind-hearted, brave, quick-tempered, compassionate, introverted, sorrowful, lonely, confident, stubborn

LIKES: Working in medicine, poetry, outdoorsy activities, research, working with the students, traveling, mythology

DISLIKES: Driving, nightmares, therapy, grand romantic gestures, her people-pleasing tendencies, headaches

WEAPON OF CHOICE:

Medical knowledge

First-aid kit

PKE Meter (during the Collectors arc)

Proton Pack (during the Collectors arc)

Ghost Trap (during the Collectors arc)

Gigameter (during the Collectors arc)

Telepathy (during the Tiamat arc)

Telekinesis (during the Tiamat arc)

Premonitions (during the Tiamat arc)

Reality warping (during the Tiamat arc)

Hand-to-hand combat (during the Tiamat arc)

Quick healing (during the Tiamat arc)

Heightened senses (during the Tiamat arc)

Quick reflexes (during the Tiamat arc)

Levitation (during the Tiamat arc)

OTHER PERSONAL INFO:

During her sophomore year of college, she met literature student Jonathan Seibert. They dated for about a year before they got engaged. Unfortunately, in 1979, as they were driving from the airport to Martha's childhood home, they were hit by a drunk driver. Jonathan was instantly killed while Martha survived. As she had been driving the car at the time, she blamed herself for his death and her grief deeply affected her future relationship with Ray.

After the car accident, Martha began suffering from chronic pain in her left knee. She regularly attends physical therapy to help cope.

Martha originally wanted to be a doctor, but decided to pursue nursing instead in order to please her father, who was very old-fashioned and whom she admired. After receiving her nursing degree, she had trouble finding an open position in a hospital and took a job as a school nurse.

Jonathan's nickname for her, "Titania," came from the faerie queen in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream.

She had been selected from birth as an emissary and a vessel for Tiamat; following Tiamat's defeat, she broke things off with Ray (whom she didn't know was planning on proposing to her) out of both guilt for her actions under Tiamat's control and because she still hadn't fully grieved Jonathan's death. She moved to Paris for a fresh start, attending medical school there, and has lived in France ever since.

INSPIRATION: Empress Elisabeth of Austria (Elisabeth das Musical), Emily Grace (Murdoch Mysteries), Jenny Moran (Ghostbusters - IDW Comics), Martha Jones (Doctor Who), Elliot Stabler (Law & Order: Special Victims Unit), Ava Bekker (Chicago Med), Karen Vick (Psych), Izzie Stevens (Grey's Anatomy), Wanda Maximoff (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

NAME ANALYSIS:

Playlist available here

#Ghostbusters #Ella's OCs #Donna Dixon #Ghostbusters IDW #Ghostbusters 1984 #Tiamat Arc #Collectors Arc #Cathleen Lives AU #Martha Ryan #OC: Martha Ryan #OC: How Do You Keep Doing This?

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latibvles · 1 year

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BLIND DATES OC FEST 2023

something for @mercurygray ’s OC Fest, which I … conveniently remembered after restarting The Pacific. So we went with a triple whammy challenge for myself here — new OC, new “canon” character, and a different side of the war. Went into a name generator, got “Vicki Graves” and … now we’re here. Melbourne antics featuring a bar, macarons, a birthday, a selective risk-taker, and Poet’s very first attempts at writing Hoosier. Have a neat little moodboard for my girl, and then the writing is below the cut :) we’re also just short of 2k words I am so normal about her. this also took on a bit of a “Before Sunrise” feel that I’m not ??? mad about ??? anyways moving on—

It was a great camera all things considered.

The latest model — it came with a case and film in a green gift box, sitting pretty on her desk at the office that morning, with a note that read “Happy Birthday Vee ~ Lois” in bubble letters. She was promptly ambushed when she sat down — with balloons and a coffee and a bagel with jam from that bakery down the street. They crowded around her when she opened the box with the camera and the film, Lois at the front with that prideful grin and her hands on her hips.

It was a good morning. Not a bad birthday.

The music was loud, a song being carried by a marine’s not-quite-sober vibrato. He whisked Margie away with that inebriated tenor of his, his friend joined in and he had an arm around her waist as he continued to croon. The music drowned out the shutter of her camera, and the lighting wasn’t terrible either, so Vicki remained seated and observing, peering through her viewfinder and snapping a photo with a click.

She took one earlier, of Lois and the marine she’d been dancing with for the better half of the night. Lew, that’s what he said his name was, tall and broad-shouldered with a smile like trouble. But Lois looked too good in her shirtwaist dress to pass up. The camera wouldn’t capture it, but the warm yellow of it brought out the shininess of her hair, the glow to her summer-tanned skin. Vicki would give it to her tomorrow.

Years from now, she could try to imagine the yellow, and if warranted, the marine holding her too.

No dancing or trouble-making marines for her; she was reserving her courage to spend on calling her mother later, maybe, if it proved to be enough to give her that extra oomf.

Christ, Vick, she could hear Lois scolding her, clear as day. Y’wanna go take pictures of war zones but you can’t even call your own mom?

Well, she’d reply, in war zones they might not ask me if I found a boy to bring home yet. They’d just let me take the damn pictures.

And maybe it was the summer heat making the bar turn stuffy — or maybe the prospect of boyfriends and aspirations and disappointing phone conversations with mother dearest were enough to flush her face and leave her unreasonably flustered. Whatever it was, she didn’t like how Margie, all tangled up in the singing marine, would glance her way and grin, like she was concocting.

And there were far too many people around for concoctions.

Vicki rose, slipping through the excitability and alcohol-induced merriment towards the front door. She wouldn’t leave. Well, maybe she wouldn’t leave, but it was hot and stuffy and she needed air that wasn’t coupled with the hazy scent of cigarettes.

She stepped out into the cool summer night and let out a hefty sigh, the night air cooling the flush to her cheeks almost instantaneously. She could walk home — it was fifteen minutes to her apartment. The sidewalks were busy though, and she wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to take the risk with so many strangers out and about.

She was still rotating her options when the door opened and shut again. She looked to her left.

Vicki recognized him, vaguely (as in: he’d come in with Lew and they’d approached the table, and she’d noticed the blue to his eyes, the pout to his lips, and the swagger of his walk, and even though he didn’t ask her to dance she almost wished he did).

“He ain’t givin’ her back.” He broke the silence first, his lip curling into a grin. He and Lew had a similar twang to their voices. She followed his eyes as they looked back through the window, to Lois and Lew and their goofy grins.

“First you take my cricket field, now you take my ride home,” she lamented melodramatically, letting herself put her full weight on the window. “Greedy little bunch, you Yanks.” He chuckled, looking down to pull out a cigarette and light it.

“Apologies, ma’am, if it makes up for it I’ve got good word that uh… Bud and your friend there were gettin’ ready to serenade the birthday girl ‘till she slipped away.”

“And is that good word coming from the one meant to reel her back in?” He smiled at her rhetoric, giving a lazy sort of shrug.

“It could be.”

“And does the retriever have a name or should I keep calling him Marine?” She watched as the end of his cigarette burned orange, before smoke slipped from his lips.

“I’ve also got good word it might be Bill. Smith. You wouldn’t happen to know the name of lady he’s looking for, would you?” She couldn’t help but snort at that, shaking her head slightly as the way his grin seemed to grow. She could appreciate a good showman, at the very least. Still, she hesitated for a moment.

That undeniable sort of apprehension creeped in on her. After packing up and fleeing the nest much to her mother’s dismay — she’d had a fill of… of risk-taking. And if she’d learned anything from that, risk meant fall-out and marines, it seemed, were an inherently risky bunch.

And, unfortunately, not risk in the way of action shots and front-page news, at least not on this side of the ocean.

But she could hear Margie and Lois and the girls at the office all egging her on, even if one was currently being serenaded and the other was dancing and the last of the list likely scattered to the winds with husbands and boyfriends and whomever they chose to spend their Friday nights with.

“It’s Vicki.” A pause, she stared at the cigarette before looking back at him.

“Well then sorry for forgettin’ a present, Vicki.” He put out the cigarettes on the brick, letting the butt fall with that grin still playing on his lips. Like a kid poking a bear. Or rather, a kid poking a sedated bear, maybe.

She bit the bullet.

“Could always make it up to me. Since your friend stole my escort and I’m not going back in there with this newfound information.” That caught his attention, he raised a brow.

“Well the guilt’s just eatin’ me alive over here, y’know.” She snorted again and rolled her eyes.

“There’s a bakery, fifteen minutes from here. Got good coffee too. Buy me a coffee and all’s forgiven,” She pushed herself from the wall at that point, looking at him expectantly and without skipping a beat Bill did the same, offering her arm. “Wouldja look at that? Marine’s got manners. You might be winning me over.” She didn’t miss the way his grin grew impossibly wider, like she’d just given him a gold star, or the way he rolled his eyes at the remark. She took his arm, and started a half-walk half-drag down the streets.

Bill was funny — and observant. He’d lean down, mutter something in her ear and vaguely gesture to indicate where to look and she’d end up snickering and swatting his arm. It seemed that he could find some quick-witted remark in everything they saw. Vicki could offer him tidbits: where to get a good meal, the shortcuts to cut through, which bars the RACMPs liked to frequent on their days off.

She saw a lot through her viewfinder. What good was seeing things if she couldn’t share them? Even if her note resulted in him telling a story about a handful of marines getting into a brawl at a bar.

“But not you, right? Such a fine upstanding marine wouldn’t dream of it.” And he ran his hand across his own cheek in a caress, turning this way and that to show off the lack of bruises or other signs of a fight.

“Never me. Wouldn’t dream of it.” In a way that was so drawn-out and dry that she knew he meant quite the opposite, and she could appreciate his roundabout honesty.

“Lois was doing a touristy article on small businesses on this side of the city. Needed me to come take pictures of the place, the owner and all that.” She explained as he opened the glass door for her, and they stepped inside. Then Vicki turned, made a sweeping gesture for him to step towards the counter. “Tell them Vicki’s regular. Feel free to get yourself something too.” She gave him a wink at his playfully drawn out ‘yes ma’am’ — and made her own way to the display case to peruse.

“Quite the present you’re unwrappin’ there, Vee,” she looked up at one of the cashiers, Bette, who was eyeing Bill up and down as he spoke to the other man on shift like he was a steak dinner. “Who knew you had it in ya? Think I can get a turn next?” Vicki rolled her eyes, choosing not to entertain her antics this time around. “The usual, I take it?”

“And a slice of that chocolate cake, too.”

“Oh she’s really feeling adventurous,” Bette giggled as she started to pack away a dozen macarons in a pretty pink box, and then a large cake slice in another. Vicki immediately went to fish for her wallet, but the blond held up her hand. “On the house. Happy Birthday, never say I didn’t do anything for ya, and if you don’t take him upstairs it’s double next time.”

“I miss when you were smaller and too shy to speak to me.” Vicki lamented with a faux sigh, and Bette giggled.

“And I miss when you lived a little more.” Vicki took the two boxes, found her usual table by the window and sat down. Shortly after Bill came back, with two cups and she gestured to the seat across from her.

“All is forgiven then?” He asked with a grin, before noticing the bigger box in between them. “D'aww you shouldn’t have.”

“Sit and entertain me for a while then yeah, all is forgiven.” She gave him a more contained smile, taking her own coffee cup and eyeing it for a moment before cracking open the box of macarons and plucking one of the pistachio ones from the box to pop into her mouth. She watched as he reached for the chocolate one, wordless for a moment as he ate it with a boyish grin.

She wondered what the fallout of this would be — four years she’d lived in Melbourne, with this private tradition of eating and people watching once a year after the girls brought her out for celebrations. Why she decided to break this tradition with a marine she knew so little about, she had no explanation for. Maybe it was just a way to avoid calling her mother. A temporary distraction.

Bill looked out the window, pointed at another man in dress uniform stumbling around, and his shoulders shook in suppressed laughter at the sight . It was enough to make her snicker a little.

A damn good distraction, if any.

It was his turn to ask the questions now, coupled with wise-crack remarks and the occasional grin that oozed ‘you know you wanna laugh.’ Sometimes, she’d roll her eyes in spite of the corner of her lip twitching, or hide the grin behind her coffee cup.

“Anyone tell you you’ve got a smart mouth, Bill Smith?”

“You and the entire first marines, Vicki No-Last-Name.”

“Well then that just means it holds merit, now doesn’t it?” She watched as he went to grab another macaron from the box, and she found herself reaching for the camera around her neck.

If they let her go overseas, take pictures of the war unfolding, there probably wouldn’t be many shots like this. Of men in states of content in their dress uniforms, with pretty coffee cups and clean faces and troublemaking grins. But she still wanted to see it, to get a photo that would end up on the front page of The Age and show everyone what it was like out there. If the editor was willing to take a chance on her and feed into it a little bit.

In for a Penny, she tried to rationalize, and she didn’t hesitate to snap the photo as Bill eyed her in a moment of confusion.

“What’s that for?” He asked, raising a brow. Vicki shrugged simply.

“Me. What good’s a birthday if I’ve got nothing to remember it,” she sipped her coffee, and with another contained smile, she added, “And it’s… Graves. Vicki Graves.”

#that scene in before sunrise where she’s like #‘i met this guy in Vienna…’ etc etc #and Jesse pretends to be her friend on the phone #same energy‚ in my humble opinion #blind dates oc fest 2023 #Hoosier smith x ofc #the pacific fic

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