𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 & 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐄 *

“   .    .    .            can   you   at   least   like,    not   look   at   me   like   that   when   you   talk   to   me,   though?   ” 

‎ִ   ‎🏆   ׄ   ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵃˡˡ     ⎯⎯     ᶠᵉᵃᵗ. ᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʲᵃʸ   ‎ִ     ⌣

         “     there’s     literally      NO     REASON      to     be     nervous      anna.        i       ᴩʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ      you      i     don’t     bite.       “    

you could've knocked me out with a feather , i know you've heard this all before but we're just hell's neighbors ( . . . )

america's sweetheart , disgraced heiress , a honeysuckle & vanilla daydream ; charlotte o'hara .

an original character , created with no set fandom in mind -- universe flexible , mid - twenties , career verse dependent , portrayed by sydney sweeney . stats listed below the cut . biography to come eventually .

FULL NAME:  charlotte june o'hara.  NICKNAME(S):  lottie,   lj.  AGE:  twenty - five.  DATE OF BIRTH:  october 30,   1998.  PLACE OF BIRTH:  baton rouge,   louisiana.  ETHNICITY:   caucasian.  GENDER:  cisfemale PRONOUNS:  she / hers.  SEXUAL ORIENTATION:   compulsory heterosexual; open to shipping with any / all characters with the right chemistry & plotting.   ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:  compulsory heteroromantic; see above.  RELIGION:   catholic.  OCCUPATION:  verse dependent; heiress, influencer, sometimes a registered nurse.  EDUCATION LEVEL:   verse dependent; bachelor’s degree in nursing from louisiana state university in any verse where she is a nurse; probably a yale graduate with a liberal arts degree in others.  LIVING ARRANGEMENTS:   lives alone in a luxury studio loft apartment with her cat, toulouse.   FINANCIAL STATUS:   old money wealthy. SPEAKING VOICE AND ACCENT:   educated southern belle,   particularly twangy and drawling when she’s tired or drunk. 

HAIR COLOR:   blonde.  EYE COLOR:   blue.  HEIGHT:   five feet.  WEIGHT:   one hundred and twenty two pounds SIGNATURE SCENT:   l'art & la matiere tobacco honey eau de parfum.

FEARS:   failure,    having to rely fully on her family.  HABITS:   face touching,   lip biting,   knuckle cracking.  ASTROLOGY:   scorpio.  MORAL ALIGNMENT:  neutral good.  WEATHER:   gentle rain. COLOR:   blue. MUSIC:    oldies hits. MOVIE:   casablanca.  BOOK:   the secret garden.  SPORT:    volleyball.  BEVERAGE:   peach tea.  FOOD:    crepes.  ANIMAL:   cats.  SEASON:   spring. 

MOTHER:    katherine o'hara,    nee woods.  FATHER:     charles o'hara iv.  SIGNIFICANT OTHER:   verse dependent.  EXES:   verse dependent.  SIBLING(S):   three; charles o'hara v, channing o'hara bolton, christian o'hara.  CHILDREN:   none / verse dependent. PET(S):    a ragdoll cat named toulouse. 

who else pressed the mowgli button

beeps in, reverse meme call — do you want memes in your inbox? like this post and you’ll get ‘em.

tired of walking on eggshells pretending like i don’t care about shipping when i do actually. sue me but i crave romance and i think it’s fun to write. i WANT to ship my characters. i don’t care if our first interaction is setting the foundation for a plotted ship. the best part is this still doesn’t mean shipping is my main focus but god the purist culture the rp community has developed around shipping and painting it as some moderately taboo thing that you should only ever indulge at a strict minimum is so exhausting. ship with me.

she   should   not   have   spoken,    a   fact   that   rings   so   painfully   within   her   temples   as   she   watches   his   attention   turn   to   her        –        as   she   watches   eyes   that   had   forgotten   about   her   flicker   back   with   life   at   remembrance   of   her   in   the   corner.    it   was   a   mistake   she   made   often   enough   now,    the   reminder   that   as   a   bastard   she   was   meant   to   be   not   seen   nor   heard,    whereas   the   position   she'd   been   so   used   to   had   been   anything   but;    a   lady   of   her   standing   was   used   to   being   present   and   in   center,    used   to   having   eyes   upon   her        .   .   .        sansa   would've   given   anything   to   slink   back   into   the   shadow   of   the   corner   of   the   chamber   now,       back   into   the   forgottenness   of   her   seat,    to   where   littlefinger   had   told   her   to   play   her   role   as   little   mouse   to   listen   and   little   else. 

“   father   does   not   wish   for   me   to   sit   with   you.   ”        she   replies   coolly,    placid   as   her   gaze   shifts   back   to   her   embroidery.    it   was   easier   to   not   look   at   him,    to   not   acknowledge   features   that   held   a   sickening   familiarity   she   could   not   explain        –        looking   at   him   made   her   think   of   robb.   of   bran   and   rickon.   in   her   trailing   thoughts,    she   forgets   the   placement   of   her   needle;    forgets   that   which   her   hands   know   better   than   all   else,    and   before   sansa   can   stop   it   from   happening,    her   needle   plunges   into   the   soft   flesh   of   her   index   finger. 

embroidery   clatters   to   the   floor   as   if   it's   bitten   her,    metal   sticking   from   porcelain   digit,   before   she   plucks   it   out   and   sticks   the   pad   between   her   lips,    brows   wrought   together.    a   shake   of   her   head,    a   moment        –        or   is   it   several?    before   sansa,    no,   alayne,    lifts   blue   eyes   to   meet   maron's   once   more.        “   my   opinions   hold   no   weight   here,    they   are   as   useful   as   the   difference   between   whether   you   choose   to   do   something   based   off   of   your   indiscrimination   or   your   indifference,    lord   greyjoy.    which   is   to   say        .   .   .        not   at   all.   ”

she   shifts   up   from   her   seat,    stretching   long   legs   from   where   they'd   been   tucked   so   gracefully   underneath   her   as   she   stands   to   full   height   before   bending   just   as   carefully   to   retrieve   her   embroidery.    with   it   in   hand   once   again,    she   sits   down   in   the   chair   petyr   had   previously   occupied.        “   what   has   he   promised   you?   ”        no   fineries,    no   sweet,    simpering   smile;        she   doesn't   play   that   game   anymore.        “   in   his   letters   to   get   you   here,    what   deal   has   he   offered   that   you   found   so   entrancing   to   brave   the   probability   that   he   would   not   simply   have   you   thrown   from   the   moon   door?   ” 

HE SHOULDN'T BE HERE . far removed from all he knows and all he's comfortable with , strangely in the hands of a man he knew not to trust . what had driven him to answer Baelish's invitation , the young Salt Prince couldn't say anymore . curiosity , perhaps . the scent of a chance he'd be stupid not to take ; the scent of an offer he might benefit from . home was far behind him , usurped and out of reach , and allies were few and far between . . . and while he only vaguely remembered the man from the few times Stannis had brought him to court , he knew better than to underestimate Littlefinger . a man with a liar's tongue and the morals of a sewer rat didn't survive in the world without cleverness . and it was the clever people , one shouldn't insult .

all the way through the long and daunting conversations , he had shoved the notion from his head that nothing but thin air lay below his feet for miles upon miles . he had swallowed the unease and erased the memory of his fall , down , down into the abyss the day Robert Baratheon had laid siege to Pyke and life as he knew it had ended . to say the Eyrie unnerved him would be an understatement . and still , the Greyjoy sat , apparently calm , listening , conversing . . . breathing a sigh of relief at Baelish's laughter to his last statement and the view of his back leaving the room , to find a servant . more wine . more food . more everything .

what he had not expected , was a voice piping up from a corner of the room he had almost forgotten about .

quiet , busy with her work until now , he had initially noticed her and still looked somewhat surprised to eventually hear her speak . the name had slipped his mind , but her connection to Littlefinger had not . and that , perhaps had been the most surprising aspect of it all . brows arched , his bright , ocean - blue eyes settling on her petite form in a way most would describe as unsettling , but his voice remained a calm singsong . " ah , but indiscriminately is not quite the same as a lack of thought and care , is it ? " he tilted his head ever so lightly . " just because I'd be willing to kill anyone does not mean I wish to kill everyone . the Vale is quite safe , my lady . no worries . "

those he wished to see dead were plundering the Reach after all . far enough from the kraken's grasp , no matter how long it stretched its tentacles .

" why won't you sit with us ? take part in the conversation ? " a gesture towards one of the empty chairs at the table , and a touch of a smile in the corners of his lips . cocky , no doubt . self - assured . for but a moment , one perhaps could see the likeness between him and Theon , were it not for the fact that unlike his younger brother , Maron breathed and lived Ironborn . he smiled and spoke calmly , washing a feeling of ease and humor into these godforsaken halls , but underneath it all lingered an undercurrent and the unpredictable nature of the sea . " after all , it seems like you have some opinions yourself . "

This is a game about winning the points that matter. CHALLENGERS (2024, dir. Luca Guadagnino)

*** added muses / changes !!

changes.

floris baratheon is now portrayed by poppy drayton.

helaena targaryen will now . . . sometimes . . . be portrayed by thea sofie loch naess. argue w/ a wall idc.

additions.

myranda royce , portrayed by charithra chandran.

desmera redwyne , portrayed by nicola coughlan.

alysanne blackwood , portrayed by marina moschen.

tyshara lannister , portrayed by michelle randolph.

.

SYDNEY SWEENEY bts

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