#IM SO HAPPY YOURE ENJOYING IT SO FAR IT'S SO GOOD INNIT ????

[todayisafridaynight]

not rgg but 😨😨 im watching first penguin because of you and why is it so good 😨

YEEESSSSSS

YEAAAAASS

[galaxicide]

SHIPPING INFO / answer the following for your muse so people know how shipping works on your blog !

WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER.

ben and poe...but i don't think this surprises anyone now. some people might wanna thump me for saying they share some similarities: children of the resistance; so shared history (childhood friends if you're me), tempers, flyboys, stubborn and determined, competitive, huge hearts and sm more. they just happen to be fighting on different sides of the war, which only makes things all the more delicious to me. i just think theirs is an intriguing dynamic that should have been explored more in the sequels. but alas...the mouse is a hater.

HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE.

i am a person who will say age is but a number when it comes to mcloving. but if there is going to be an age gap when shipping with ben, I prefer it to be a few years younger, perhaps five at the most? doesn't mean I can't be convinced further with the right mun and muse, but not to like 20, aka how old rey was... now, older...cough. that's a free for all. there's not really a limit there for me or Ben.

HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NSFW.

err...dicks out? nudity and touching is what i'd consider nsfw, personally.

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING.

umm, i don't think so. i'm always open to crossover and oc shipping as well as canon. but with ben it does take a partner who is rather understanding because loving ben isn't always easy, and he doesn't always find it easy either. he has a lot of baggage and black hole's worth of emotional and intimacy issues. at least in canon verses.

WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH.

oh, boy....well, it currently is only poe. that's more or less the only ship I wrote on my old blog and it has haunted me ever since. but that doesn't mean I'm not 39585843% open to something else. i love exploring new dynamics sm.

DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU.

you can send me a shippy ask and I'll see how I feel about it. or you can come kick my ass and be like WE'RE GONNA SHIP THIS BITCH. I'm pretty easygoing when it comes to shipping, always willing to dip my toesies in the water.

ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS.

obsessed and proud. people who think romance writing is somehow less than other forms of writing are absolute whackos and we can't be friends. love keeps the world going around, we always need more of it.

ARE YOU MULTISHIP.

yes. that is likely to remain unless my brain says otherwise. but it's rare that I singleship. hasn't happened in a long time.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM.

are you gonna make me say ben / poe again? cus this is getting embarrassing. but aside from them. i enjoy the obvious han / leia, but also finn / rey, dinn / luke, obi-wan / happiness. the usual stuff.

FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU.

we've been over this. jump into my ims and say BITCH GET IN THE CAR, WE SHIPPING. but again you can always send memes. they don't even have to be romantic. i do like to interact platonically, too, just to see how our muses mesh etc. that's important! being friendly ooc is a must too. friends make the best shipping partners. that's a fact, innit? and plotting stuff is so much easier if you have a good rapport. I'm always up for crossover ships and i love ships that take me by surprise.

[undertaker1827]

Can I get a matchup please?

Im 5"1 I get teased for it alot, im pansexual but lean towards guys. Im sarcastic alot of the time, british humour innit, im pretty touch starved to the point where when someone does give me a hug or even just brushes their arm against me I either jump away from it or stay stock still, I hate physical exercise. (Kinda ironic) I really love playing card games and listening to music, or going to the park at night (really edgy I know) im in the process of becoming punk, I need the right clothes and at the moment im broke, I can spend hours talking and not notice how the time went by, im pretty awkward to begin with at the start of friendships and stuff, I love conversing I just cant start a conversation. I have anxiety so that sucks, it means.I often either bounce my leg, or scratch at my legs, im trying to find better coping mechanisms. TW PAST ABUSE, (I tried to keep as vague as possible to not trigger anything, I apologise if it does) My parents weren't nice people so I cut contact from them, my past kinda sucks and im just trying to accept that never seeing them again is a good thing. NO MORE MENTIONS OF ABUSE NOW. I have a really bad habit of randomly wearing makeup, ill get up at midnight bored out my mind and do it just to take it all off and go back to bed. People say im kind but idk at this point, I feel like im being an asshole a lot of the time, my sense of humour usually included putting myself down, I guess I use it as a coping mechanism for my insecurities

Of course!

Masterlist

-

I match you with … Bardroy! (First time writing something centred around him too!)

So Bard is somewhere around the same height as Sebastian, right? So he’s gonna tease you for your height too. He won’t take it too far though; if you’re having an off day or you just don’t find it as funny as usual, he’ll apologise immediately. He seems to me like someone who would very much get sarcastic humour, and whether you look at him as American or British (which I do personally, its just how he seems to me) he’s been in Britain long enough to get the humour. He’s not over the top with the physical affection, but hugs/arm around the shoulders/hand on the back are all things he does, and he can’t help but smirk a bit if you jump about or literally just freeze. He’ll probably joke about your nerves being in pieces or something like that, but he will also make sure about what you are/aren’t comfortable with. Bardroy exercises quite a bit, but he fully understands why you don’t. It can be tough to drag yourself into working out. He’s great at card games and loves passing the time by playing them with you, probably with a bit of your music playing in the background.

Night-time walks are great and if you ever wanted company, Bard would be happy to go with you. He can’t wait to see the final result of your conversion to being punk, but he reminds you that the process is just as good as the final look itself, even if it takes a while. He loves just talking to you for ages and if you haven’t got any conversation starters, don’t worry! He has plenty. Bardroy gets having anxiety stemming from past trauma - he’s got quite a bit himself, leftover from the war - so he immediately recognises when you’re getting anxious and seems to know just what to do to calm you down. If he sees you scratching at your legs, he just gently takes your hands in his and sits with you, neither of you needing to say anything. He’s totally supportive with anything you need with regards to mixed feelings about your past, he’ll always talk to you about it.

Bard will admit he thought the midnight makeup sessions were a bit of a quirk the first time he woke up to find you with all the lights on and a brush in your hand, but he thinks you’re really good at it and besides, why not? Do what you enjoy. He’ll tell you every day how kind and nice you are if you refuse to believe him, and he’s made it his personal mission to get you to stop putting yourself down for the sake of humour.

[dear-yandere]

—ask collection!

a collection of mostly very old chats and sweet asks that i never got around to answering! thanks for the patience and love!! 

beware, fairly long post... woops....

chat asks.

darling: Eu-jin is best boy. Change my mind.

vanya: i am physically incapable of fulfilling that request, how dare you do that to me... i’m biased since he’s my own oc, but i would die for my (very best) boy eu-jin... who can resist such a gentle yandere that loves you so whole-heartedly?

that reminds me! he’s actually based off of kuroyuki and gekkamaru from the otome nightshade, so if you want similar characters by any chance, do check them and the game out ♡

darling: I was watching the dub for Part 5 of JoJo's Bizarre adventure yesterday...Mista called himself Daddy and I like- sdfghjfgsdhnhnmj!! My heart can't take this--

vanya: WAIT HE DID???? i’m not even big on daddy kink and reading that made me go 😳 this is vital information to know... what episode was this??? for research purposes, of course. gotta perfect my yan! mista, after all~...

darling: for yandere songs, have you heard of the major to minor covers by chase holfelder :O? the way he delivers the lyrics in some songs (betty, all i want for christmas), added with the key changes to minor, is really fantastic, and gives a stalker-ish vibe imo! and he's a really good singer in general

vanya: i have!! a good chunk of them are actually on my personal yandere playlist, so i end up hearing them frequently when i’m writing!! i haven’t been keeping up with his uploads recently, so ‘betty’ is completely new to me and just, wow???????????? this man is an absolute god send for us “romantic” horror fans... ♡

this ask gave me such a lovely idea, though, darling: assigning yandere types/mbti based off each of chase’s minor key covers. i think i’ll do that just for you. ♡

darling @blossomiich​: I reread some of your old character interaction asks and saw the one with Jotaro hugging his Darling after a panic attack and the elephant seal plush reminded me of the iconic C H O N K Y ringed seal plushie that was kinda trending and I can totally imagine Jotaro having one of those >w< that's so adorable!

vanya: i honestly don’t remember that interaction, but then again i don’t remember most things hmghng so i looked it up and

j...just imagine star plat hogging it and not letting joot cuddle with it 🥺 the duality of man...thank you for this cute image...

darling: Umm, sorry for asking this. I'm just curious because of your bio language in your header. Are you Chinese too, perhaps?

vanya: no worries!! i’m mixed guyanese (indian, chinese, & possibly black and/or portuguese), but my family only celebrates (or rather, acknowledges?) our indian descent, since the majority of our family is predominantly east indian. 

my header is actually a quote from a danmei novel (and one of my all-time favorite fandoms), tiān guān cì fú (heaven’s official blessing)!

darling genki stan anon: Omg you're writing for free now, i didn't expect that one lol. It's a cute show innit? Not a nagi stan but I feel like nagisa has that kinda unsnapped personality that would make him peak delusional yandere material lolol like oikawa but less threatening and without his head being up his own ass 😂. Hope you're doing well!! -gsa

Gdjsjs im such a fool, i think my last ask said something about not thinking you'd write for free when i literally just pointed out kisumi on your sideblog LMAO my bad 😅 😂 also ill hold back on the gen chan requests because ive already asked so many in the past! Thank you though 🥺. Also feel free not to post this, it can just dip into my onesided chats with my lil flower 💐 so long as you receive them im fine 😌 -genki stan anon

vanya: nagisa isn’t my favorite (kisumi is), but gods if he wouldn’t make a great yandere. honestly, out of the iwatobi boys, nagi is probably the most unhinged. i wouldn’t peg him as delusional, at least not at first; i think he’s very lucid and knows exactly what he wants and how to manipulate people in order to get it!!! kisumi is fairly similar now that i think about it... i might... have a type...

please feel free to send in gen-chan requests whenever you want!!!! i’m kinda super asocial, so it’ll take me a while to answer, but i love getting asks from you since you’re so sweet and excitable!!! your little flower reads and cherishes them all!! 🥺

also darling genki stan anon: Sorry for spamming you with asks hdjkdks, u dont even need to reply im just kinda brain empty venting here whether you recieve them or not 😂 i just needed to confess that while yes i am #1 gen simp, and he is undoubtedly my fave oc of yours but that Ilya tentacle smut had me very much so highkey kinda 👀, had to re read the genki oral style drabble to bring my head back. He dont even need to worry about luca bc that man a thot. I think therin is a thot too but like lowkey, a classy thót -gsa

vanya: omg i’ve kept this one for forever mnmghngh i might’ve even answered at some other point, now that i think about it... but i just 🥺 gosh i hope i find my muse soon, because i really wanna write you a genki fic 🥺 hhhh

the ilya tentacle smut was so in character for that boy... i have no clue how to write monsters, much less tentacles, but i’d honestly do anything for him 🙏 kinky russian boy...

therin is definitely a classy thot, the kind that only bangs the finest concubines then turns around and slut shames you for banging the very same prostitutes gbfmngnfg rules don’t apply to him, in his kingdom...wish that were me tbh ✊😔

sweet asks.

darling one: i've read almost all of your dazai and chuuya fics and i love them so much!! your formatting is also super aesthetic just a question, i saw on your kofi that you also draw so i was wondering if you drew all the header arts?? bc they're all super pretty :) have a great day!

darling two: Just wanted to say love the writing and the way your format your posts is so aesthetically pleasing. One day I hope my posts looks half as good as yours because I legit can't get over how pretty and organized it looks.

vanya: omg thank you so much!!!! one of my bffs, yue, is to thank for the formatting and aesthetic choices, really! if you wanna see more of her aesthetic formats and posts, she actually runs a few blogs! you may know her as @milkscafe​, formally @milkaaton! i adore her and her aes choices so much 🥺

as for the headers, i don’t draw 99.98% of them! i have drawn a couple, but they’re so few and far in between since i almost never finish my art wips haha... my older posts are lacking proper credits because i’m an absolute idiot, but i’m slowly working my way backwards to credit them all where possible! they’re all indeed super pretty!!!

have a great day yourself, my love!!

darling: THEY’RE NOT BAD CONTENT, I LOVE THEM ALL

vanya: this was in response to a now-deleted lil blurb but i kept it in my inbox because i wanted to say i love u very much and seeing this ask each time i open my inbox makes my heart skip a beat ♡

darling: Listen I love your writing, you inspired me to start it myself! I've always loved to write, and read of course but your style and concepts just stick with me. If you where to write something besides Yandere content/fandom content and started your own series? I would read the shit, out of it. I'm always nervous to interact with my favorite writers because you know, I'm afraid of the impression I'd leave but I just wanted to say this anyway! 💞💞💞🔫😳

vanya: wowowow fgfnmgnfmngfg that’s such a high compliment my brain just gmfnbgmnf go boom fogjfngnfg and thank you for the interaction, us writers truly appreciate it no matter how awkward or nervous you think you may be / come off!!!

darling one: As a writer, your post struck a nerve with me. I don’t send feedback to writers I like nearly as much as I should (and certainly not as much as I’d like in return as a writer). So, as such, I’m going to start doing that when I can, starting with you.

You are an incredible writer. You were one of the first yandere writing blogs I found and you’re still one I check in on regularly to see what you have been working on. You can portray a sense of suspense and intrigue in a natural way that many other writers - published ones included - struggle with. You delve into the darkness without it feeling forced, and you have an amazing grasp on the psyches of the characters you write for (which is a quality I adore in writing and strive toward myself).

I’m not great at ending these things so I guess.. you keep doing you? Because the you is great and I appreciate it.

darling two:  hey. i'm here to tell you that from the bottom of my heart i love you and your writings. i really admire your writing skills. you inspire me. one of your posts once saved me from a nervous breakdown. thank you for everything you do. you're a wonderful person. good luck!

darling three: I wanted to tell you that thank you for writing such wonderful beautiful writings and that you take time to edit and write I hope you are taking care of yourself 💖❤

darling four: Thanks. I was having a hard time and deleted all my apps, but as soon as i opened my phone my first instinct was to look at your blog and i got my motivation back. Thanks (:

darling five: Hi ! I just wanted to say I really enjoy the stories you write and how they are detailed so well ! Stay safe and I hope you have a good day/night ! ლ(╹◡╹ლ)

vanya: ahhhh, these are very old asks mostly dating back to my “tumblr writing community is dying” post, and i’ve kept them this entire time because i’m just so starstruck. i have no clue how to reply to compliments, so i’m not sure what else to say besides that these asks made me very happy and got me through a few insecure moments!!! i’ve actually been feeling a little down about my writing recently, mostly because of lack of motivation / inspiration, so revisiting these really warmed my heart, so thank you truly ♡ i’m certainly keeping the originals in my inbox until the end of time!!

darling @monstrously-obsessed: psst, this local cryptic mom thing send all of their love for you 💕

vanya: your local herbo says she loves you very much momster 🥺 mwah

also, to the anon worried about my safety:

thank you so much for pointing that out!!! it hadn’t even crossed my mind when i made those ocs, so i appreciate your concern! i was contemplating revamping those two as is, so this is a great place to start! thank you again!!

[harrieatthemet]

Signature

in which your sister gets engaged and Harry needs the sheet of paper. 

im baaaaaaaack!

He’s absolutely green with envy.

Riddled, consumed, and enveloped by jealousy. If he wasn’t so good at putting on a show, surely someone would’ve picked up on it by now. But he is; he’s made a career out of it, after all.

His eyes linger modestly on your sister as she sits vertical from him at the table. And he smiles as she gushes about her news, trying his hardest to match her excitement as he cracks a smile.

“It’s beautiful,” you coo, your grin almost as wide as your sisters, “let me see it again.”

Harry stares with adorn as your sister extends her hand across the table, placing her palm to rest in yours for the third time.

Platinum silver. He prefers rose gold but he sees how content your sister is, and decides to compliment her on her fiancées choice in color. He can’t tell quite how many carats it is; 2, maybe 3? Not that it matters. Modest, he thinks, but again it’s his own preference. He likes to be dramatic, but that’s his preference.

He knows asking will only fuel the jealousy even more, but he can’t help but give into curiosity.

He directs his attention to your sisters fiancée, “how did you propose?”

Without even so much as glancing at your sister, he can see from the corner of his eyes the way her eyes light up; almost like she had been waiting all night for someone to ask that very question. Your expression doesn’t lack enthusiasm either, with wide eyes and a child-like grin.

The two of you both sit and listen, your sister fiddling with the new diamond sitting comfortably on her ring finger.

Harry zoned out around the first couple of sentences. And it’s not because he isn’t happy for your younger sister; he’s over the moon. She’s as good as family, if not better, to him. Seeing her happy and engaged makes him feel good, at least, it should.

“M’happy for yeh kiddo,” and Harry means it sincerely, “gonna make a brilliant bride.”

His comment is genuine, even though as he makes it he knows you’d be twice as beautiful in an all white gown. And though the engagement story, for the small amount he was mentally tuned into, was nice he knows he’d propose to you far more creatively.

The mere thought of if makes his throat go all dry, in the best kind of way of course. Butterflies flutter subtly inside his stomach. The lighting in the kitchen is dim enough so no one can ask him why his cheeks haven’t gone a bit pink.

He’s so meticulous, so he knows his proposal would be so well planned. It would play out so nicely; romantic for sure. Private as well, not that it would matter; he’s sure that the occasion, even the gesture itself, would be so intimate it would feel like you and him were the only two people in the world.

“Your next.” 

He feels your sister’s voice almost before he hears it. And his neck cranes back from their brief hug goodbye so she could see the expression on his face; puzzled. 

“M’sorry?”

“You’re next.” the second time she says it is more giddy, her hand subtly raised so she can wiggle. her ring finger before you catch her. 

And even minutes later, as he trails behind you through the front door of the house, he’s still got the image of a sparkly engagement ring ingrained in his head. 

Your hands put the keys in the dish, then they’re twirling the stray piece of hair hanging from your bun. With knitted brows, he watches your hands, your barren ring finger in specific, and imagines a blinding diamond. He imagines how you’d react when he asked; would you cry? Hopefully not, if you cry he will too. 

“Too much wine?”, Your voice is even more melodic in real time than it is inside in his head.

He can peek just over his shoulder in order to get a clear shot of you, nestled comfortably into the sitting room couch. Your shoes are plopped down just at the bottom of the couch, while your feet end up finding relief atop the coffee table he’d just shelled out thousands on. Usually he’d hiss at you, swat your heels off because hello, smudges! But it’s an argument he’s willing to retire for right now; he’s divulged in half a bottle of red and his daydreams have him feeling as though he could walk on water. 

A pat on the open seat beside you is more than enough to lure him from the opposing end of the room, bringing with him that dorky smile. He also makes time to toe off his shoes, sprawling out his body along the couch so his head falls into your lap. 

“Had a nice night,” he sighs contently, letting out the words all in one breath, “never seen y’sister smile f’so long.” 

He lets out another small puff of air, his eyes fluttering closed as he succumbs to bliss. You know he loves this; loves when you run a couple fingers through the tousled pieces of hair at the front of his head. He’e fell asleep right here, in the middle of the living room, if he didn’t have plans to initiate a marital conversation.

“Mmm,” you hum, “me neither, s’good for her. Good for them.” 

“Innit?” and now he’s ready to lead this conversation where he’s been wanting to, “was a bit of a surprise, though, yeah?” 

“A surprise?,” you reiterate, and he modestly looks up at you as a way of agreeing, “Not really, no. It surprised you?” 

“I mean,” he hesitates, “it did a bit, yeah.” 

There’s a brief pause amidst the conversation. You haven’t got a clue as to what he’s eating away at him. Clearly something is; it’s blatantly clear in the way his eyes are cautiously peeking up at you before randomly roaming about the room. And each time he opens his mouth to continue speaking, he promptly shuts it before allowing anything to come out. 

“Gonna tell me why?” and that’s all it takes for him to start blabbing. 

“I just,” he exhales, “dunno, always thought we’d be engaged before her. Hell, thought we’d be married before her.”  

A quick pause from you is enough to send his heart race inside his chest. His eyes are glued to you, blinking barely as he watches you gaze down at your hands tangled in a few strands of his hair. But you shrug. There’s a calm laugh coming from you, too, and he’s not sure whether to be relieved or put off by it. 

“It isn’t a race, you know.” you remind him.

“I know,” he agrees, “I know.” 

“Besides,” you sigh, letting your hand retreat as you ward off sleep, “never really saw us as the marrying type, anyways. 

A once steady breathing pattern has become irrationally ragged as he sits upright, eyes wide as he somehow has rid himself of a wine haze and a bit of a sleep fog. naturally, his eyebrows weave together in curiosity as he tries to play back what you just said to him. 

He doesn’t have enough thinking space to process you’re bewildered reaction. And he doesn’t have enough thinking space to understand what it was that got you to say that. How did this not come up sooner? How did he not know? How were the two of you not. on the same page. 

“Not th’marrying type?” he repeats your comment slowly, word for word. 

As much as he wishes he wasn’t, the longer he stares at you the more anger seems to bubble. The nod of your head as he repeated it made him want to physically crawl out of his skin and disappear. You seem so unbothered. 

“Tell me, than,” and his voice has become more condescending, “what exactly do you ‘see’ us as?”

“Are you mad?” your tone is much smaller now upon getting a look at the grim expression on his face; 

“G’on ‘n answer me.” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “comfortable?” 

He sits for a minute longer, clearly a prisoner to his own thoughts. For a couple more minutes, it’s just silent. The dishwasher in the next room is the only thing making noise, until that stops and it’s radio silent in the sitting room. 

Comfortable. Comfortable. It could really mean anything. And in any other context, he’s sure that you being comfortable with him was a flattering compliment; one he could enjoy. But not right now, because all it’s doing is sitting uneasy in the pit of his stomach. 

So he gets up. He decides that the longer he sits, the more unwell he starts to feel. And he’s assuming you’ll be respectful enough to give him a moment of peace; that’s the impression he’s under as he wanders out of the sitting room and turns for the kitchen. But of course, the padding of feet on hardwood is enough of an inkling to tell him he’s got company following on the heels of his feet. 

“Well I’m not a mind reader,” you snap, “so if you’re feeling some kind of way right now, it’s best that you grow up and tell me.” 

It’s calm for a moment; eerily calm. It’s the kind of stillness that occurs before a storm. It’s a warning of something somber and treacherous; you could say the same for the expression on his face once he turns to look at you. 

“Bold of yeh t’decided we just aren’t th’marrying type,” he barks, “don’t quite remembering agreeing t’tha’.” 

You’re a bit taken aback, because you hadn’t necessarily realized just how cross he really was. He’s practically seething and, although a bit alcohol may be at a fault, you’re sure that 95% of this is all Harry. 

“I didn’t decide that,” you rebuke, “I just assumed it!”

“S’one hell of an assumption, than.” he snaps, and you roll your eyes. 

“S’been fucking years,” you jeer, “if we wanted to be married we would’ve done it by now.” 

He’s not entirely sure if you know just how low of a jab that was. If he wasn’t riding an anger high right now, he would be sure that you were unaware of it. But he’s decided that you do understand, and it only seems to make things worse. It only makes things more tense. 

“Y’right, yeah?” he laughs, but it’s bitter, “ ‘Cos my career is nonexistent, right? M’never busy?” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

He knows. At least, he thinks he knows. But it doesn’t matter. He’s angry and proving his point is the only thing he has the urge to do right now. 

“It’s a stupid piece of paper with our signature!” you argue, “It’s a sheet of fucking paper that we don’t need!”

“Maybe I need it,” he retorts, “maybe I do need the stupid sheet of paper!” 

“Oh, no, you don’t,” you shout, “you absolutely don’t, and you’re only saying you do to piss me off!” 

“Can’t build a home with comfortable,” he rebuttals, “can’t have a family with comfortable.” 

The words settle with you differently than he had intended them to. It’s almost as though you can feel your stomach flip a bit. It’s like your heart dropped to your stomach, demeanor softening a bit because as the words that just previously flew so freely from Harry’s mouth have no left you with a heartache and an overwhelming sense of disappointment. 

“So I’ll go,” you breath, “I’ll go, than.” 

[sastrugie]

my christmas break starts this friday as well! what’s up with your coworker? have her test results come back? is she doing okay?

alright, so my fav topics include:

- the russian revolution, as already stated :D

- the cold war (mostly from the east european point of view)

- the tudors

- victorian era england

i also really love peaky blinders (the show) and i occasionally enjoy reading about how different gangs operated back in those days but i don’t know much lmao

also, monarchy is just such a terrible system but i completely get your interest in the people! for example, i also adore reading and learning about the tudors and the romanovs but only as a part of history and not because i’m such a big fan of the monarchy? lmao if that makes sense.

and like, i lowkey get why the bolsheviks thought they needed to assassinate the whole family but it’s also really sketchy, dude ://

i think i like britain’s history just because it’s so rich and influential, but like we simply can’t ignore the fucked up shit they’ve done through the centuries. so again, i enjoy it but mostly because i love judging them for their actions lmao

and to answer your question, i don’t really know if i have many historical favs? i feel like i enjoy way too many problematic people lmao. nevertheless, the ones i’m most interested in atm are: lenin (shockers), anne boleyn, anne bonny, malcolm x - this list shifts constantly depending on my mood though.

oh shush you, i’m sure your style is bombing based on everything i just read :)

lmao i actually do that sometimes, but mostly in my mother tongue! but i also just love shakespearean insults in english, those are impeccable

and merci beaucoup! good luck with russian; maybe you’ll be able teach me a few phrases in the future :D

ooh what are you studying atm? if you don’t mind sharing, that is.

and me, i’d like to become a psychologist some day, so that’s pretty far from history as well haha but i never want the enthusiasm to die ever and i’m really loving how the two of us can just scream to each other about history in every single ask/answer :D

thank you so much for these beautiful recommendations, i’ll definitely check them out!!

here are some of mine:

books:

- maria stuart by stefan zweig (german author, so it shouldn’t be too hard for you to find it!!)

- red crosses by sasha filipenko (fiction about the stalinist regime)

- the age of light by whitney scharer (historical fiction again lmao; tells the story of photographers lee miller and man ray’s romance in the 30s with little snippets into wwii through lee’s pov; the writing was stunning)

- sapiens by yuval noah harari (basically the history of mankind; so informative and enjoyable, i adored it)

- the real peaky blinders by carl chinn (what the title says, really; the actual gangs of birmingham and their not so shiny careers)

these are the best ones i read in 2020 but i’ll let you know if i remember any of my other reads!!

i also haven’t read any actual books about the 1917 revolution because i haven’t really had the chance to go to the library yet and i’ve been busy doing my research on the internet haha (it’s a fairly new hyperfixation of mine, to be frank). however, i’ll hit you up if i find anything worthwhile <3

documentaries:

- the russian revolution (the title speaks for itself lmao)

- genius of the modern world (3-part docuseries about marx, nietzsche and freud)

- world war ii in colour (lmao just a classic, innit)

- secrets of great british castles

- the last tzars (tho i’m pretty sure you’re quite familiar with this one haha)

- forbidden history

- secrets of the six wives

- anything by lucy worsley, tbh

these are all off the top of my head but again, i’ll let you know if i remember any more!!

oml i apologise for the long message and i hope your week is going well :D

dont apologize for long messages! <3 im always happy to talk to you 

sadly her test was positive UGH which means i have to get myself tested too (today) and if the worst case happens: i´ll have to spend christmas alone in my student flat bc then i obviously cant go home to my family (my grandparents live there..) so yeah, today 14:20 o clock... i have the test :( cross your fingers for me pls huhuhu

thats cool that we have the russian revolution and vicxtorian era as common interest ^^ i read a book recently its called “the ordeal” and its a triology written by alexej tolstoi during the times of the revolution. its a story about two sister and their love interests during the war times and its really good!!! 

oh i barely know anything about the tudors! pls hmu

ah yes.. the cold war... i have to admit im rather interested in the music and sociology of the cold war times but the political stuff is super interesting too! esp as you said from an east european view, so we can talk about that too!

yep. monarchy sucks! i understanbd from like a logical point of view why they shot them all, but the human side of me thinks its just cruel.. i mean yeah tsar nicholas wasnt a good politician but he wasnt a bad person either. but yeah, a difficult topic.. tbh he´s the only romanov im really interested in (i really dislike his wife alexandra tho lmao) hbu? 

leninnn :D i kinda excpected that! i havent really read much about him but he seems to be an interesting person! and who is anne boyd? malcom X yes! im really interested into the civil rights movement as well. I really like martin luther king jr.

englands history really fascinates me, and i honestly cant tell you why... but it is what is is hahhaa! nand duuudeeee omg they fucked so many shit up.. the british are a funny nation. but honestly none is unproblematic and every nation screwed up big time once:D judging is really important when youre intereste din history! like im interested in king george and queen mary but not solely for political reasons, more actually for their personal lives and victorian times and how they were as a couple, but i know... they did bad stuff too!

omg teach me some shakespearean insults pls! i only know a few victorian ones! and a bit of sixties slang :D 

im gonna reblog this and add some russian phrases bc my russian keyboard in on my phone :) but i use duolingo so the sentences are ... really weird lmao

im studying physical geography in Erlangen right now and am in my 7th semester.) im actually writing my bachelor thesis rn UGHHHHHHH

ohhhhh psychology is cool!! im really intersted in it, sadly i cant ever be one bc i suffer from poor mental health too much myself, in fact i have an appointment my therapist in a few minutes haha BUT i think youre super trustworthy and nice and easy to talk to so these are really good qualities for a therapist <3<3<3<3

AHHHHHHHHHHH THANKS!! 

i already read sapiens! its so good! and i know maria stuart by schiller haha but oml i love stefan zweig so imma add it on my list

ok and i will watch ALL of these (except the last tsars bc yeah i already saw it! and liked it ... kinda .. i didnt like the actor they chose for nicky, he didnt remind me of him at all)

i have alot of historical fiction books to recomment too: 

if you like ww2 “a time to live and a time to die”

ww1: “all quiet on the western front”

russian revolution and war time “the ordeal”

“intrige” by robert harris is also good (france 1896)

oh and documentary wise:

they shall not grow old is a coloured ww1 docu!

thank you so much for everything again i love talking to you :) have a nice day <3 (sorry for typos i was in a hurry)

[hardyimagines]

Part 1 — SOLD!

———

may I ask you to write Something about a girl who is sold to alfie (by her father, boyfriend or else) to repay a debt, the girl is terrified by him the whole story, and he won’t soften because of her, he is as harsh and tough as in the show.

Part 2      Part 3

———

The bounds tied around your wrists were securely knotted in an impossible to escape manner. It was rope. Braided strands tied so tightly around your flesh that the sharp wiry strands that stuck out in multiple places were embedded deep within your skin leaving you to wince each time the leash-like material was yanked on. The alley you were being pulled through was dark and silent apart from the quiet thudding that echoed throughout the small space as you were led along the pavement and toward an abandoned building in the decreasing distance. The exterior was gray and rundown. Windows were cracked in some places, others were completely shattered and gone. The stars that twinkled above were too beautiful for the angry world below to be able to look up at and enjoy. Your gaze was pulled away from the night’s sky when you were pulled forward and indoors at an even harsher speed.

Eli, your boyfriend, stood in front of you with no regret in his orbs. His eyes were so dark brown they looked almost black. His gaze was infused with worry and a little bit of hope, but no regret and he offered no explanation as he cradled the opposite end of the rope. You’d been fast asleep in bed and then all of a sudden hauled up and off of the warm, comfy mattress and jerked into the cold streets. Eli hadn’t even bothered to grab a coat for you, he’d merely led you outdoors in your nightgown. Neither of you looked to each other. Your heart ached with betrayal and his heart ached with hopeful relief.

Months ago, before he’d met you, he’d made the poor mistake of screwing over a few gangsters. That term wasn’t used lightly. These were criminals, dangerous men who wouldn’t hesitate before taking illegal actions to settle debts. Eli had been trying his hardest to earn back money to pay back said gangsters, but there were too many of them and he was running out of time. When he’d seen you, so beautiful and pure and willing to converse with him, a complete stranger, he’d decided you’d be the perfect pay off. Or at least brief pay off. He’d approached and within a week you’d fallen for him. A charming smile and smooth words were all it took for you to become attracted to the man you hated so much in that moment. This was the second time you’d been used to settle a form of payment, only the first time you’d been given away had been by your beloved father. He only had one child, you, and he, without hesitation, had sold you to a bloke about four years ago when you were in your later teens. It had been the worst months of your life. It was a time that was infused with cheap meals and stomach aches. An uncomfortable environment to sleep and an impossible environment to get clean in. The water stunk which meant you felt filthy even when you bathed. The man who’d purchased you had used you as nothing more than a punching bag, something to let his anger out on. You worried for nights that his physical abuse would turn sexual, but it never did. Now, you found yourself in the same situation. Being sold as an object was a way to make a woman feel small and useful in such a horrible manner. The door in the corner opened with a loud moan, an irritating sound which made you want to clasp your hands over your ears until it was finished. The ties on your wrists made that impossible though, so you stood with your shoulders squared and your head forward. Despite your strong, sturdy stance, the tremble in your bottom lip and closed eyes gave away the fear that welled up inside you. No man blamed you. They wouldn’t want to be sold to a gent either. Especially not the one sauntering into the room. Alfie Solomons, a gangster in Camden Town, had been threatening him for months. Men could be seen lurking over his shoulders, revolvers in hand as they silently warned Eli that if he didn’t pay Alfie back for all the money he’d taken then it would be his life at stake. The cold room grew even colder when a foreign voice flooded the entire building. It was deep, hoarse and gruff. The accent was thick, definitely cockney, and he dropped a swear word into his sentence after almost every other word.

“Fuckin’ hell, mate. You could not have picked a fucking shittier place, right, to have this little fucking meeting.” Alfie Solomons made his way along the room and toward the pair of you. You didn’t dare look though, your hearing was enough aid to see what you didn’t want to. It sounded like he had men with him, no doubt accompanying him in this meeting to ensure that Eli didn’t try and pull anything. “Right, mate, so, I’m here, ain’t I? Talk.” Alfie came to a stop about three feet away. His hands sunk into his deep pockets, fingers lazily tracing the chains he had tucked away inside his slacks. His blue eyes ran along the length of Eli, a brief inspection to see if there was an outline of a weapon. He didn’t see one. All he saw was the rope the boy held. Following the length of it which led to you, he cocked a slow brow.

“Alfie.” Eli finally spoke. “This is Y/N. My gift to you. I don’t have the money. But I will. But im giving you her — for free. I need more time so I figured I’d pay you the only way I can.”

Dried tears stained your cheeks leaving a sticky trail from your eyes all the way down to your jaw. The dress you wore was thin and the straps barely hid your goosebump-covered flesh. Your nipples were hardened and visible through the cloth. You felt naked and vulnerable beneath the men’s stares and yet, you still didn’t open your eyes in order to face the man in front of you. Hearing his voice was enough.

The previous time you’d been sold it had been horrible. You’d been silent throughout the sale and you’d figured he’d be sweet to you since you weren’t disobedient. That wasn’t the case. No matter how good. How sweet. How obeying and willing you were to listen to his every command, he rewarded you with beatings until he was bored of you. He hadn’t sold you to anyone else, he’d merely told you to go away and you’d listened with a wide smile. You’d left your old town and moved to Camden which didn’t seem to be the best choice right now.

Alfie was still staring you down. You were very pretty. You held your head high, a sign of confidence and bravery. He didn’t care about the tears, nor did he care about the way you shut your eyes. You should’ve been cowering away and then he wouldn’t have dared take you with him. He’d never taken a woman as payment before, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. Brushing his thumb along his bottom lip, he took another step forward.

“Right, mate, take the ropes off her, yeah, she’s not a fucking dog and I can’t have my girl, innit,” He waited for a nod from Eli before continuing. “to be injured.” Eli scrambled toward you. He wasn’t mumbling apologies or asking if you were okay. He roughly pulled the ties from your hands before rolling the bound up into a ball and shoving it into his pocket. Alfie smirked slowly as you lowered your arms. “Right, boys.” He snapped his fingers. Your eyes opened at the sound of Eli’s sharp wince. The men who’d accompanied Alfie were suddenly hammering their fists into Eli’s face. His stomach, ribs, back, legs, whatever they could hit, they did. You tore your eyes away from the scene when the man who stood in front of you nudged your leg with his cane. “Lass.” You finally looked up at him. The very bravery he’d seen in your stance shimmered just as noticeably in your gaze. It was watery and tears continued to brew in your big eyes, but it was there and it made a little bubble of pride form in his chest. His tongue slid over his lips before in one swift movement, he gripped your forearm and pulled you toward him. “You get in the car, right, and don’t move a muscle. Just sit fucking still and wait until I’m ready to go.” As you stared up at him, your pink lips pressed together, twitching downward. This man was too hard to read. But his name was far too familiar and that alone made you bob your head with an obedient nod before moving toward the car. You’d do anything to get away from his heated gaze and into some sort of warmth.

Said warmth didn’t last too long. The men outside the car piled in shortly after Alfie had told you to go. Your boyfriend’s body was left limp on the cement, blood staining his features. Nose, broken. Lips, cracked and split. He looked unrecognizable as you peered out the window and toward his unmoving form. He wasn’t dead, you noted, when you saw his back twitch with his ragged inhale. The sound of the car door slamming drew your focus away from that man and instead to the one at your side. Alfie. You’d made a mental note when you’d first heard his name. The backseat wasn’t too spacious, so the second he got comfy, grumbling incoherently, his knee bumped yours, cane situated between his thighs. Everything seemed to be an unspoken agreement. Alfie went silent and the driver took off. You watched him from your peripheral, attempting not to quiver as much as you desperately wanted to. That brave facade you’d had would need to stick with you for some time. Being weak wasn’t admirable — and to the rare one’s who might show you some pity well, he didn’t seem like the type.

—

The car was cold, despite all the body warmth it held. Being with strangers, going to an unknown place, being sold as if you weren’t a human being — it simply sucked all that happiness out of your body and left you feeling like a block of ice. No pumping heart or position emotions. No soul. Just a body. A body with a blank face and empty eyes. You’d rather be dead than suffer through abuse again.

The car came to a jolting stop. You extended your arm to catch yourself, effectively preventing your face from slamming into the back of the passenger seat. Alfie climbed out, cane meeting the pavement first and then his feet followed. You were stiff in your seat. You remembered from your original purchaser to wait for instructions. Wait until you were told what to do. But Alfie didn’t ever say ‘get out’, he just stood and waited. It was common sense.

You piled out of the car and shyly made your way around. No other man looked at you apart from him and that was probably wise on their part. An owner didn’t enjoy his belongings being ogled. The space between the two of you grew smaller and smaller as you approached him, only coming to a stop when you reached a few inches from him. Rules would surely be explained at some point in time, but you felt, as he stared at you with a look of hesitance in his gaze, that he’d never done this before. He pinched the sleeve of your dress and drew you toward him before twisting around and leading you into the tall establishment behind him.

Again. No one looked toward you. Not even as you were hauled down a long corridor and toward a flight of stairs. Working men didn’t stray from their task and even people who needed to speak to Alfie, they only looked at him. No greetings or introductions, just silence. Alfie opened the door to his office before instructing you with grumbled and hand gestures to go to the corner. He seemed a bit on edge, like he had something to handle. But it didn’t matter to you. Stuck alone with him, that was when most men like him — men who accepted women as a form of payment — were weakest. Men like that enjoyed being powerful in front of an audience, not in privacy. So you took a chance and you begged for some leniency.

“Sir.. please have mercy on me.” You whispered breathily. “I’ve been sold before and I.. I don’t think I can take going through what I had to previously.” Alfie was rummaging through a drawer as you spoke, blue eyes taking over his cluttered belongings. Your mouth opened though and the words that spewed from your lips were instantly regretted. He looked at you, spectacles low on the bridge of his nose as he stared, unwaveringly.

You realized in that moment that power radiated off of him. Alone or in a group, he wasn’t fearful. He was the owner. He was in charge. He was not to be messed with. A man, one like your last owner, would have chortled at your words. Kept his distance. Brushed you off. Alfie, you could tell as he stepped around his desk, ceasing his task for the moment, was a virgin to having a woman. There was nothing in his gaze but authority.

“Mercy?” His harsh chuckle shook the room as it left his chest. The sound was deep and overpowering, a sound that made you quiver on the spot. “Mercy,” he laughed a little softer now before approaching you. His wide palm opened completely before lifting to your cheeks. He squeezed the flesh that resided there closing his hand around your face so that your lips pushed together. You closed your eyes, afraid of the gangster that stood before you. “You and I, pet, we’re going to have a lot of fun.” He whispered lowly. His hot breaths danced across the flesh of your cheeks before tickling your ear. Wringing your hands together in front of you, you silently pleaded for the man you’d just been sold to to be kind. To be gentle. To be nothing like the last man you’d been given to. “Mercy is a pathetic thing to beg for, pet.“

———————————————————————

Part 2     Part 3

Tagged: @peakblogbecauseimweak @bsotstory @mollybegger-blog @morphoportis @ghost-of-student-sufferings @drippydownes2002 @ellar21 @sovereigngoth @willowick13 @xxxxxeroxxxxx @wheresthewater @anrm1 @pansexualginger @marvelgirl7 @evilspretty-dead @heyitscam99 @wow-he-cute @haroldpain @justrepostandlove @sparklyreaderx @emerald-bijou @multireality @innerpaperexpertcloud @giftofdreams @ihclipse @meer0rauschen @inkedfandom @thatsamegirl @doct0rstrange @jakechillenhaal @shanty-lol @centerhabit @clevertheoristpainter @jamierdr @favouritereadings @badmaax @thephuonganh @wewillfindourwaythere @uhhhemilyrose @scarrasco1325 @matoki-darkpanda @bignastyfan-nz

[davosmymaster]

“there will be part 2, although I cannot guarantee it will be a good one, bc some people are getting expectation” need you to understand that literally whatever part two is i will love it. part two could literally just be. and they lived happily ever after. and be id like poetic amazing incredible. also i need u to know that i read and finished that fic at around one am and woke up my boyfriend so i could talk abt it (which basically was me going full steven grant explaining everything and why it made me so emotional vs a blank expression followed by. that’s oscar isaac innit.)

Awww you have too much faith in me. I promise ill try to do my best. I cant believe you woke up your boyfriend for that omg that poor man hahah im so thankful and happy you enjoyed it that much. I love writing, i really do, but reading stuff like these its what makes my day so much better. Its crazy to think that something i wrote in my laptop has reactions on ppl so far away from where I am. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying it.

Hope you have a wonderful day. Lots of love❤️

PD. For all the anons, my dms are always open for everyone in case you wanna chat or say something, you dont have to be shy. I love answering asks too. ❤️

[pinpep]

An unexpected talk

"Hey guys. It's been awhile. Times are tough. It seems like the world and my life are on the brink, and ive never been so torn. I wonder if it was as easy as you two made it seem. I almost gave up. Sometimes I still want to. I'm trying. I miss you. I'll be brave."

The trees around her felt as empty as ever. The graves, as graves always were, remained silent, but the air a short distance behind her was another matter entirely.

“Oh, wee lamb. Th'easier it looks, th'arder it was. Forged in fire, hey?”

The voice surprised her, knowing she was supposed to be secluded out here, but the young gnome calmed herself, certainly a well-meaning passerby judging by how the tone had no malice whatsoever.  She turned her head around to greet the stranger.

Seated on the grass next to a large oak stump, a woman bearing the not-quite-sharp, not-quite-round features of a middle-aged mother sips carefully from a steaming teacup. Her hair is dark and held up off her neck by a kerchief across her forehead, and her clothing is simple, but fine. The light-colored dress seemed a bit dirty, but it was hard to be sure since she, cup and all, was a softly-shimmering translucent green. “Don’t mind me, luv.”

Calmly adjusting to the fact that a spirit had decided to reveal itself, the gnome can’t help but smile at the ‘luv’, it gave away where the woman was from, anyway, and it did make her think of Leon, almost an uncanny feeling, really. “Oh, it’s no trouble, i’m not far away enough from town to expect privacy.” Adjusting her seating, she turning to face the woman.  "I enjoy coming out here to talk to my parents, pretty place. You on a walk?“

When she chuckled, the slight reverb was much easier to pick up, but it didn’t make her sound particularly alien, rather giving her voice a more songlike quality as she set her cup down. "I do like t'wander in my free time these days. It is a lovely little spot you’ve found for yourself. My apologies for intruding on you, by th’ by. Couldn’t quite 'elp myself. It sounded so …mm, familiar.” Pin gave her a smile. Spirits, though she had rarely encountered them, were rarely malevolent, and in truth she found this one to be pleasant enough that she didn’t want to cause her any discomfort.  "Familiar? I suppose everyone has their troubles.“

"Very much so. First thin’ y'learn that’s worth learnin’ once married, luv; nobody’s marriage is without stumbles. Th’ longer they go, th’ more there are, o’ course, but that’s just probability, innit?”

“Personally, I talked t'my pillows about it.”

She chuckled, “I like to air this stuff out there, or at my training dummy if i’m mad enough.” a brief pause, followed by a deep breath, “There have been ups and downs, but this was the first time I thought I was making it worse. Still feel it.” “Well, in a way, you’re right, luv.” She set her cup down, drawing a second one out of nothing and pouring from a homey little teapot that hadn’t been on the stump before. It certainly smelled nice, lots of bergamot, a little orange. “We’re all responsible for our own lives, aren’t we? So if it’s not goin’ th'way we want it, that’s always a little bit on us. Not quite s'much as we’d gen'rally like, I think, but still.”

It was not a great feeling, to hear those words, but she had a kind way of saying it that put that initial panic to bed, and… well, she was right. “True…. true.  Guess I just let it get to me, though, tried to get away from it, saying it was for the greater good. Guess i’m still a bit of a greenhorn with this love thing.”

“Tch, you are ev'ry ounce his li'l girl, aren’t you? Ideas an’ words bigger'n than you a dozen times over for ev'ry li'l success an’ hiccup.” She gave a silvery laugh as she pressed the teacup into Pin’s hands, feeling solid and smelling heavenly.

“You’ll only ever be a greenhorn, luv. Life never runs short o’ surprises, least of all in love. Dwellin’ in th’ valleys makes climbin’ t'th’ peaks take all that much longer, though.”

The words took a little while to sink in, all of them, and the young gnome held the ghostly teacup in her hands, looking into the woman’s eyes for awhile, her brain catching up with the implications. She took a deep breath… “You… you knew dad?” her voice cracked a bit.

My but meeting that gaze was a familiar sensation, green shimmer or not. Pin looked into eyes like those almost every night. Come to think of it, her smile turned up just a little higher on the same side as Leon’s, too. “I’d be surprised if 'alf o’ creation didn’t know that man by now, luv. 'E’s got personality enough t'man a warship on 'is own.”

Almost by instinct, Pin lifted the cup to her lips, taking a sip of the ethereal, but… very real liquid, best tea she’d ever had, really. It was the only thing keeping her from tearing up. Dad… he was… around. She knew it, of course, proof of spirits and all that, just… to -know-. And as the gnome met her gaze once again… she knew. “You…. you’re Bettany, aren’t you?”

Almost bashfully, she nodded her head and picked up her cup in a half-toast. “Sorry for th’ theatrics, luv. I 'ave t’ find my fun where I can.”

Trying to regain a bit of sanity via levity, Pin gave her a bit of a wry smile, “Well, I suppose i’ve no room to judge on theatricality. I came back from the dead in golden armor.” giving herself a few halfhearted chuckles, she met Bettany’s eyes again. “I…don’t know why or how but… I… really wanted to meet you. Leon really thought the world of you.”

Another loud, full-bodied laugh for the armor comment really hammered home the truth of her identity. “And oh 'ow your poppa glowed fit t’ match when y'did, too! If not fer all th’ bloody nebulous rules of it, 'e’d 'ave already come t'you, luv, and don’t think for a moment that 'e wouldn’t.” Her smile faded just a touch at the edges at the mention of her son, sad but resigned. “'E still does, luv. An’ just like yours, I’ll come to 'im when I can. An’ when it won’t crush 'im further.”

There were the tears. She managed to ward of the outpouring of emotion with a few deep breaths, but it was good to hear… that he saw, that he knew. “I… i’ll do my best to help get him there. I’ve been scared… but he seems to be doing better.”

“It’s very 'ard not to once there’s so much less t'fret over. From what we could see, your time on that side o’ thin’s wasn’t quite th'same.” She waved one hand in an absent sort of swat, and she sipped from her tea again. “'They’ve never been anythin’ less'n’ ecstatic t'see you go, luv. ”

“I do wish 'e 'adn’t gotten t'talkin’ with Graeme fer a while, though.” A long-suffering, but not quite actually upset, sigh. “Thank th’ gods they can’t get themselves killed again, that’s all I’ll say.”

The thought of that scenario made the gnome smile, “I actually was referring to your son, Ma'am, but it is good to know all the same.”

“You’ll pardon me sayin’ so I 'ope, but I’d assumed y'would without needin’ said. I’ll admit I never knew what 'e needed was you, but it’s clear as day now.”

Her cheeks darken a bit as she takes the compliment, she briefly looks down before meeting her gaze again. “Thanks. You raised a wonderful man, Bettany. Heck, two of them, though the other one does have a smart mouth sometimes.”

“Terry never did quite like 'ow much like 'is poppa 'e wound up, but if 'e did, 'e wouldn’t be much like 'is poppa at all. Leon… I’m glad 'e came away from th’ man 'e was becomin’ just after.”

Pin takes another sip of her tea, only to find it just about finished. “Me too. He got me to believe in myself again. Got me to love myself as well as him.” “Always th’ nurturin’ type, that boy.” She set her teacup on the stump where, after a moment, it faded off into nothing. “I think y’ deserve each other, an’ yes, that can be interpreted any number o’ ways, not all of 'em kind. I’ll leave it up t'you t'decide which one I mean just now, hm?”

She nods slowly, “Something to think about, at least. I… anything you want me to say?”

For the first time, Bettany stopped smiling, looking thoughtfully off into the trees around them. “… a great many. But they’d all be selfish. It wouldn’t 'elp Leon any t'hear from me th’ way 'e is now.” It wasn’t something that made her happy to say, but she’d resolved to accept it.

“I’ll ask y’t'keep this chat between us for now, on that note, please.”

“Yes’m.” Pin couldn’t help but go with Leon’s choice of words there.

A knowing smirk followed that familiar utterance. “At least not till I’ve gotten t'ave words with th'other girl.”

At that, Pin smiled, “i’m glad you are, Kae’s a bit lost, and you’re pretty good at this.”

She lifted her chin in mock imperiousness and sniffed once. “I raised one boy through puberty and another almost as far, all th’ while keepin’ their great dafty of a father out o'trouble. I should very well hope so.”

“You certainly lived up to the talk, ma'am.”

With a soft chuckle, Bettany gave pin’s nose a short tap. If she blinks, she’ll simply be gone by the time Pin opens her eyes again. If not, she’ll see the form of Leon’s mother softly pop into a million little green sparkles and whisk off with the breeze.

A faintly amused voice lingers just a few moments longer. “Don’t be a kiss-ass, darlin’.”

Pin can’t help but laugh, cogs, she could tell why Leon was a momma’s boy.

[noonmutter]

Etiquette

(Another round of modified chatlogs. Terry and Dwyn regularly compete with Leon and Pin for cuteness points, but only when they’re alone. This takes place just after the last Dragoon meeting, which I missed for purely OOC reasons because I’m a dumb.)

The directions Shedwyn leaves for Terry guide him to the far side of the lake from the Cathedral. It's a bit of a hike or a short boat ride, one that she apparently made on her own, because by the time he arrives she is sitting on a blanket with a picnic basket. As he approaches, she pulls out a bottle of liquor and a pair of glasses. She pours just one glass, for now. It's not exactly a public place, but seeing her out of bed with all her illusion spells off is unusual. Showing off all those scars, tattoos, and her "weird" eyes isn't her style. Of course, the gold "dress" isn't really her style, either. It's far too exposed.

The hike itself isn't too difficult for him, not after running about in the rocky mess of the Shore. Really, his reflexive checking for fel pools slows him down more than anything else. Once he sees her, but doesn't see the chair, he's immediately impressed. The booze gets a bit of a smile, and the...visibility of her more of one, after a moment's surprise. When he's only a few feet away, he pries off the heavier bits of his armor and drops them carelessly to the grass, and closes the remaining distance barefoot. "Y'look good, babygirl."

"I always do," she smirks, and offers the glass up to him. "I feel good. It felt like the thing to wear."

He settles onto the blanket beside her and leans over to kiss her cheek, only then taking the glass. "Did y'actually walk up 'ere?"

She laughs. "Not all the way, no."

"Tch. 'Ere I was about t'be impressed." He takes a drink with a quiet sigh of satisfaction.

She looks him up and down, and leans over to plant a little peck on his shoulder while he drinks. "You look like hell. But I'm so happy to see you, hon."

He really does, at least compared to his standard. Most people probably wouldn't think the softness to his features was anything significant, but she sees him too often for that. "Nah. 'Ell's a dif'rent shade o' green. But I missed you too."

Chuckling, she pours herself a finger of whiskey. She leans away a bit to watch him while she savors her drink.

He's really enjoying that drink, if only because the only booze one is going to find on the shore is cheap stuff soldiers sneak in. He's worn, in that have-slept-but-not-enough way, but healthy otherwise, and content for the moment. If she doesn't interrupt him, he'll finish his glass without saying stopping. Not chugging, just...savoring it.

She's content to enjoy the whiskey and the view with him in silence for a few minutes. Once he's done, she silently offers to refill his glass.

With another small smile, he nods and holds it out. While she's pouring, he takes his turn to watch her, not skipping an opportunity to see what she normally hid even from him.

She's a little sad, a little nervous. As she pours, she says, "I have a question, but first I should tell you something."

Well, he isn't sad, but he's certainly nervous, now. "All right?"

"I could hide it from you indefinitely with little effort, and I considered doing so. It seems to me it will only hurt you... But if I want this to last, I should tell you. It certainly won't if you find out on your own." She frowns a little and brushes the back of her fingers down the side of his arm. "Do you remember when I said there were others, but nothing serious, when we recognized that you and I are... well, perhaps not 'serious,' but significant?"

From nervous to scared in record time, congratulations Dwyn! "...yeah?" He doesn't move, but there’s enough tension in his face to momentarily erase the apparent weariness he's been fighting off.

She curses under her breath and looks away, putting the cool glass to her forehead. "I'm so bad at this." She looks back up at him. "The others were irrelevant, no one you're ever likely to meet, but one of them was your brother."

His brain runs in slow motion while he's parsing what he's been told and making sure it doesn't involve him having done something wrong. Then he goes over it again, looking for something she did wrong, and alarm klaxons go off right at the end. His eyes don't widen, they don't narrow. He doesn't outwardly do anything except stop blinking.

She swallows hard on the knot that had been trying to form this entire time. "It ended up being just the once, but still." And there she goes, looking away in shame. Both from sleeping with his brother and trying to justify it so lamely.

"...You're not still, are you?" He makes wholly unhelpful motions with his hands. "I know Leon does that... swingin'...thin'..."

"No." Offense catches up to and surpasses shame. "No! I-! No. I cut him off. Hell, until the other day when I had this same conversation with him, I hadn't seen him in weeks, not since the day I cut him off."

The stiffness in his shoulders is only really noticeable because it suddenly goes away, and he finally starts blinking again as he leans back. "I mean... I 'aven't been with Rhiswyn in ages. A while b'fore Alynore'd ever said anythin' t'you. I ended it with 'er, too."

Shedwyn shrugs and shakes her head. "I didn't think you had, really." She makes a face and sips her drink quickly. "That will certainly be a nightmare for a while, but no, I never really thought you might still be seeing her. And I told you, I'm yours. Only yours. I'm not going to touch anyone else unless you and I - us - changes."

"Babygirl, I'm not Leon... I don't really care tha' much 'o fucks 'im. I mean... I know it's kind'f a, a sore spot for 'im, but... this ain't th' same."

Shedwyn nods, ands looks away, thinking. "It really isn't."

"There was this girl, Lilith, 'o'd wander int' town back in th' day. Most'f th' lads figured she was a bored 'ore 'o came 'round whenever th' local law got too pushy. She'd entertain 'erself--and us--fer a few weeks, then shove off again back t'wherever she came from. Y'know.

"I pointed 'er Leon's way one time. 'E was a quiet li'l dork an' 'e was never gonna get anywhere if 'e was th'only one 'o 'ad any say innit, so I thought I was doin'im a favor, y'know? Get 'im 'is first. Mighta been 'is last, but at least 'e'd 'ave a first…"

Shedwyn scrubs at her face. "Yes, I know what happened there. It's one of many reasons I was afraid to tell him. Interesting to hear your side of it, though."

Terry looks down at his empty glass. "Yeah, well. Iunno what 'e was expectin' back then. Either way, tha's not me. Pers'nally I'd rather not know 'o 'e's stuck it in." He pauses, then closes his eyes in a very 'god damn it, man' way, realizing what he just said.

"Heh. No. I suppose you wouldn't, but if you found out from someone else..." She sighs, bumps his shoulder with hers, and then moves away to crawl toward the basket. "How does steak sound for dinner?"

Yes, she is trying to distract him from imagining Leon fucking her.

Not expecting an offering of food, he looks up at her and then at the basket. "What? Oh. Yeah. 'Ell yeah. Mess at Deliv'rance Point does pretty good but, y'know.” He paused, then quietly followed up with, "Thanks fer ownin' up. But, uh. It's okay."

She pulls out a pair of covered plates. A good, rare steak, with garlic mashed potatoes and some grilled vegetables is passed off to him with a shrug. "Thank you for being understanding. And for explaining a bit. But it makes my question feel even more silly, now." Scallops, rice, and butter-drowned vegetables for her.

Anyone judging by his expression would think she'd just stripped in front of him and said 'have at it,' the way he looks at that food, and especially once he's smelled it. He actually makes a tiny little 'hee' sound in the back of his throat when he takes the plate. "What question?"

She picks up her drink to sip it and wait until he's not eating, drinking, or holding anything that will break if he drops it from laughing too hard. Still, she can't help but smirk from behind her glass at how silly her question feels (especially with how it may be a touch tardy). "Is it alright if I fall in love with you, or would that be too serious for your taste?"

Good decision. He chokes on air and nearly drops the plate even though it's in his lap. Once he's not coughing, he's chuckling, putting the plate down on the blanket next to him and wiping his mouth. "This from th'girl 'o made fun o' me fer usin' 'fancy'? 'Is it all right?'"

She shrugs. "It is rather adorably quaint slang." She's smiling at both their silliness, now. "I've been with men - and sometimes insisted on the rule myself - where getting that attached was not alright."

Leaning over a bit, he nudges her with his shoulder. "Adorably quaint, pff. Don't get smug on me now, babygirl, y'were doin' so well."

"Humility is not a good look for mages."

"Can be. Y'look amazin' on yer knees."

"So do you." She pops a scallop in her mouth and tries not to smirk up at him.

Someday Terry's gonna have words with himself about how easy it is to make him blush. "Only t'you."

She hooks a finger in his shirt collar and pulls him in close, affecting a sharkish grin that loses most of its edge because she's trying not to laugh. "Only for me."

He can't quite help the way his eyes widen when she does that, even if he does know she's messing with him. It happens and goes away after a second, but it definitely happened. Then he closes the remaining distance between them to kiss her, if only for a peck. "True."

She leans back, still grinning, but gestures at his dinner. "Am I to take it that means it's alright?" Another scallop, still with her bare fingers. Terrible manners on this woman!

Bit of a 'damn' to his face when she doesn't let herself stay distracted, and he picks up a bit of steak he'd cut. She started the terrible manners, he's allowed. "Can't very well stop y', can I?"

She shrugs. "I can choose to fall in love, I can choose to not, no?" She winds her arm around his and leans against him, picking at her food with her free hand. "Besides, you know I already love you dearly. If you wanted, I could be happy with just this, for as long as we have."

He sets his hand on her hip almost without thinking, and rests his head on top of hers once he's done chewing. Wouldn't do to get crumbs in her hair. "Dunno. Can y'choose t'turn somethin' like tha' off?"

"Pft, I can do anything if I put my mind to it." No, no, she can't, but she's not about to admit it right now.

"Mm. So, I got a question fer yer question."

"Fire away."

"Are y'askin' if it's all right, or are y'askin' if I feel th' same way?"

"... I don't need you to be in love with me, Sam. I don't even need you to love me, or 'care deeply,' however we'd like to put it, which I-" She pauses and clears her throat quietly. “It would be nice, but it's not necessary. I just don't want to make you uncomfortable, either by holding you at a distance or pulling you closer."

He's quiet for a bit, eventually curling his other arm around her waist and shifting to sit a bit more comfortably. "Y'din't answer my question, babygirl. Are you askin' me what you actually wanna ask me?"

"I am not asking if you're in love with me, Terry. That would be... Incredibly rude, for lack of a better way of phrasing it. I'm not playing any silly games. I'm asking exactly what I want to know."

"Then m'answer doesn't really change." Ducking his head, he kisses her cheek. "I can't very well stop y'."

She sighs, smiles and exasperated little smile, and continues eating with her fingers. "Eat your dinner, old man."

"Old man! Aren't you older'n me?" Chuckling, he picks up another steak bit.

"Hm, how old are you?"

"Th--" He pauses and squints upward for a minute. "...irty one? I think? Did I miss thirty? ...No. Thirty-one's this year. Yeah. Thirty fer now."

"Then yes. I am older than you are."

"Oh no y'don't. 'Ow old?"

"Thirty-four."

"Gods, I'm stuck with a crone."

"An eternally youthful and beautiful crone, thank you." She tweaks his chin. "You're not stuck with anything."

"She says with 'er arm snaked so tight 'round mine."

"Oh? And that arm around my waist is for balance, I suppose?"

"No, it's t'keep a girl 'o loves me from gettin' away too fast."

"Hmf. Won't be leaving unless you give me reason to." She huffs. "Besides, you're the one always going where I can't follow."

"I 'alf expect t'turn 'round an' see y'comin' up be'ind me t'wreck shit, anyway."

"Soon, I think. I have some ideas..." She shakes her head.

"Pursue 'em. I wanna see my girl beatin' th'shit outta th' demon 'ordes."

She tries to pull away a bit so she can properly look him in the eye again. He won’t stop her, at least not unless she scoots too far.

"Please remember that above all else, no matter what else happens, I am your friend and want to see you happy and healthy. Right?"

His smile fades a little, one eyebrow rising. "Well...yeah. I wasn't questionin' tha'. Should I 'ave?"

"No. I just want to make certain you remember it. No silly self-sacrificing to save me, or worse, my feelings."

"Can't necessarily guarantee th' first bit, babygirl. Y'kin take care o'yerself but some shit's just reflex."

She pouts, but nods. "And the second?"

"Well... I don't 'urt y’ on purpose." He waves his fingers underneath his chin for a second. "When t'shut up. Y'know."

"We both have that problem. As long as we don't leave it at shooting off our mouths, I think we'll be alright."

Terry nods after a minute, then tilts her chin up with a finger. "Kin I 'ave my kiss now?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because I want mine, first."

Smirking, he leans down until his eyes are level with hers, lips damn near touching hers, and stops. "Take it, then."

She cups both hands under his jaw and barely brushes her lips against his, then turns his head to continue back along his jaw toward his ear.

That is less of a kiss than he expected, but he's not about to pull away, going as close to statue-still as he can manage when he's bent at such a sharp angle. She is, after all, rather wee. The soft little groan that simple brush of her lips along his ear draws out of him is nothing but satisfying.

It ends with a frustratingly short tug on his earlobe with her lips before she goes back and murmurs, "Your turn, Sam," against his mouth.

She barely gets to finish the 'M' before he's mashed his lips into hers and is pushing her down to the blanket.

The best part is that she can't manage an evil cackle when she's too busy giggling giddily. She has just enough sense to shove plates out of the way.

"Evil li'l bitch" is all he manages to say, mouth still pressing hers down. If she hadn't moved the plates, he would have...eventually...probably. After he's spent a good five seconds trying to steal her soul, he lifts his head with a lazy grin. "Yeah... yeah, I think it's all right with me."

"Hwuh? Oh... Good." She tries to blink away the confusion, but just looks unsurprisingly dazed. "Skipping dessert, are we?"

"I want y't'appreciate right now 'ow much I care 'bout you, tha' I am not makin' any cracks about chocolate at this moment."

She gives him a fake little smack, further ruined by the way her hand just stays there as she catches his earlobe between her fingers. "I appreciate you not being a lazy bastard just because you love me sooooo much."

Turning his head to kiss at her wrist, he leers sidelong at her. "There is a rest'raunt somewhere tha' makes a fancy sundae with gold foil on, though." One hand flicks the shiny material of her clothes.

She sighs and rolls her eyes. "No doubt. There's also one that makes an amazing fruit tart with the fruit piled several inches high."

"Callin' you a fruit tart seems t'be in...poor taste...too." He nips her wrist, grinning unrepentantly.

"But easier to stomach when I haven't been compared to it my whole life."

Shifting smoothly into Suramarian, he says, "{And yet you quiver so, should I refer to your kiss as the cool brush of an evening breeze.}"

Her eyes go wide, but then she scowls. "I hate you so much."

"Do you?" Reaching up to hold her hand in place, he begins kissing his way down her arm. "Why?"

"Mmm, making fun of my weakness - hf - for decent lines of poetic flattery."

"{Decent, she says, even as she holds back another mewl.}" There's a nibble this time.

"You don't believe me when I tell you they're good!"

"{Then quiver, my tiny darling, quiver for me, and speak to me of quality in a language I know.}"

She groans, and it's only partly exasperation. "What am I going to do with you, Terrence Samuel Ambroce?"

"I kin think of a few thin's, but they're a lot less soppy than th'shit I've been sayin' in th' last few minutes." The grin has no shame. The grin does, however, fade into a thoughtful line before he kisses her palm again. "{...do you love me, then?}"

"Rude."

"{Rudeness holds no sway over the classless.}" He smirks. "{Do you love me?}"

She scowls, and says in Thalassian, "{Like the honeybee loves her hive.}"

"{A curious love. The queen is slave to the hive, unable to leave and ever producing, ever expanding the hive.}"

"{It is no better for the workers. They may leave the shelter of the hive, but must always return with all they have for the hive. But queen or worker, what you call slavery, others call purpose.}"

"{You speak of obligation, not love.}"

She sighs noisily. "{I speak of a metaphor that has entirely changed meaning by being examined too long. I wonder if it would be more accurate to say 'as the hive loves the honeybee,' then?}"

"{Perhaps accuracy is best found in literal terms, rather than metaphor. You asked my permission to fall in love with me. If you are not already there yet... what do you feel now?}"

"Protective. Admiration and respect. Frustration. And... there's a, a glee at how well we fit, that made me wish to ask if it was alright to fall in love with you, and to express it." She threads her fingers into his hair. "To allow myself to be possessive, and proud that you are not just my friend, but mine."

He's a bit startled at the language switch and his eyes dart from side to side for a split second like he's actually afraid someone will overhear, but it's there and gone. Her hands are in his hair and he's settled a bit, though she can easily feel the surge of warmth that rolls through him at the way she says 'mine.' "...Do I..." Irritably, he switches back. "{Do I have yours?}"

She tilts her head. "My what- oh!" The genuine smile that brings on turns wicked. "You know, any other woman might feel intimidated into agreement by having you pinning her to the ground."

"Any other woman'd not get th' offer."

She grins at that. "Oh, you're 'offering' to fall in love with me, are you?"

He grins back. "Weren't you t'me?"

"I was asking permission. Not offering. Very different. But." She tugs him downward. "You're welcome to try."

"Yer a terrible liar, babygirl." He settles on top of her to rest his forehead against hers. "But I'll take tha' as permission anyway."

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, just enjoying how close they are for a minute. "...I would not suggest it as a wise course of action. But please do."

"I'll let y'know if I do." He kisses her again, not waiting for her to respond.

( @shedwyn , @rhiswyn for mentions )