hadzyuka

[hadzyuka]

kaltiisms​:

Fannar opened his mouth to respond… before promptly closing it again. He knew he should have thought ahead of himself, and he cursed at himself inwardly. He could have opened with a hello. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

‘Ah—I didn’t mean it…’ That way, he thought, biting on his tongue. But, Miloslava’s words had Fannar blinking, and then his cheeks turning rouge. Gently, the man shifted on his feet. ‘What does that mean?’ He didn’t want to say out loud how he thought Miloslava was implying he was an Angel, simply out of fear of being wrong. ‘I don’t think I’m going to die soon?’

Miloslava gave him a weird look, taken aback at how quickly he had apologized. Most people making that comment had it out for her, or at least were aiming to tease. His following question had her squinting even more, her frown twisting more to a bemused one.

“You... Because you are tall. You made a short joke, so I made a tall joke.”  Fannar was spectacular at confusing Mila thus far, and she watched as his cheeks flushed a bit. Was he embarrassed? Jesus, she’d either overestimated his abilities, or underestimated her joke-telling skills... though to be fair to him, she had looked pretty annoyed. 

[hadzyuka]

“i’ll kill you.” are we about to kiss 

[hadzyuka]

mauermann​:

@hadzyuka

The tall man was standing firmly in the doorway, his arms folded, and shaking his head at the small woman in front of him. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, “I told you, the theme is blue tonight, and that dress is clearly in the greens.” He rolled his eyes as she protested and called him something he was sure was an ugly name in what he assumed was Russian, but he didn’t really know. Whatever it was, and whatever she said, he wasn’t getting in past him. Or at least, she wouldn’t have, if an equally tall man hadn’t come strolling up past the line, his hands casually in his pockets, and his stance well at ease.

“Paul, Paul, Paul,” he said, his voice light, “What on earth is causing you to hold up the line so badly?” He glanced down, and a look of surprise crossed his face as he recognized the woman before him. That look quickly turned to a grin and he looked back at his bouncer. “Oh I see now. Listen, I’d say her dress is close enough, for someone who’s a friend of mine anyways. She’s my personal guest tonight. I hope you’ll be nicer to her.” With the doorman looking embarrassed enough to not argue, Alexander turned his full attention to Mila and offered her his arm. “May I?”

Frankly, the bouncer was spewing the most bullshit Miloslava had heard in a long time. Her silk dress was clearly aquamarine, not some type of turquoise or green that he was insinuating. It was enough to rile her up and have her spitting out a few unladylike insults under her breath, and there were no clear signs that she was backing down anytime soon.

There was a certain indignation in her eyes when she opened her mouth to argue with the man once more, until a familiar voice floated across her radar. Though Alexander was not the last person she expected to see, he still wasn’t the first, and she was reduced to staring at him for a tense moment. Miloslava caved with a grimace, winding her arm through Alexander’s with a dirty look towards the bouncer. “You may.” She muttered, allowing him to lead her into the club.

“I was handling it just fine myself.” Mila spoke up when they were in, frowning at Alex.

[hadzyuka]

kaltiisms​:

‘You are shorter than I remember…’ Fannar says with a hum in his voice, bringing his hand to the top of Miloslava’s head and then to his chest, measuring out the Belarusian’s height against himself. Fannar quickly recalled that Miloslava wasn’t the type of woman one would want to anger, but he only tensed his jaw, forcing a small smile to convey his joking manner. He wanted to laugh, but he knew he’d just be embarrassing himself. ‘I didn’t know that people grew backwards.’ 

Miloslava hadn’t expected to be short-checked so swiftly by the taller rep, so soon after seeing him again. She stared at him, stunned, jaw dropped just a bit at Fannar’s sheer audacity before she quickly straightened up and closed her mouth. “You really are so bold.” She muttered, scowling just a tad, “do not try to knock heads with the heavens, hm? And watch out for stray doorways, I heard they are extra low this year.”

[hadzyuka]

“Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”

"You and your threats." Miloslava muttered, turning over in the bed to fix Eir with a sleepy glare. "I ought to kill you first one of these days."

She pulled the blanket higher over her shoulder to snuggle in on her side, content from all their drinking and two-person-partying during their sleepover. Eir was ridiculous, and Miloslava could only assume she'd be awoken but a playful jab in the side as a method of death. Now, she was too tired to care and let her thoughts drift off to sleep, innocent and vulnerable to any of Eir's early morning attacks.

[hadzyuka]

*leans over and whispers* Gegoogelt

[ leans over and whispers back ] I have a knife.

[hadzyuka]

“I wasn’t nervous. Maybe I was a little bit concerned, but that’s not the same thing.”

"Well, you surely looked nervous," Miloslava muttered from where she sat in Alexei's kitchen, holding a makeshift ice pack to her forehead above the bandage taped carefully on her nose.

She'd come by for a visit, since she'd rather see his face than Russia's himself, but alas... that tricky bottom step had alluded her and her foot had slipped in just the right spot to have her falling and scraping her face up.

The noise she made was ugly too, a smack against the ground followed by a shrieked curse at the shock of it all, so it all made sense when he looked so nervous opening the front door-- But. If he claimed it was concern, she'd believe him and wouldn't push it. Miloslava was just grateful for his cold ice packs and sticky bandages.

"Would you believe me, if I told you this was intended to be a stress-free visit?"

[hadzyuka]

Please understand, I hold you in the highest respect

"...this is a terrible way to start a conversation." Miloslava said slowly, her eyes narrowing at Ludwig. He was already setting himself up for failure with this, and she dreaded what he would say next.

[hadzyuka]

hewwo i know i promised ppl things but i have an exam next monday/tuesday so i will be back after then to do stuff!! when i do not have to think abt studying anymore :> <3

[hadzyuka]

❄ Our muses huddle together to stay warm.

"Of all the fucking times--"

Miloslava stormed around the cabin, expression contorted in one of frustration, as she checked for the fifth time to see if there was a generator in the basement. The fuse box was shot, there was no heat in the house, and most of their firewood had been dampened by the snow outside.

She knew a generator would not just suddenly spawn into their basement, simply because she left the room, but a girl could hope.

This was supposed to be a fun girl's weekend, one where her and Milda could enjoy the snow and maybe go skiing, or just watch some movies and drink some cocoa. A fun little girl's weekend... that now would be filled with icicles and cold extremities, thanks to the surprise blizzard.

Finally, after thirty agitated minutes, Miloslava stopped pacing. She rubbed her gloved hands on her face, already bundled up in her winter clothes to keep the body heat in. "I... there are blankets. We should huddle." She muttered, defeated, as she shuffled over to the linen closet.

It wasn't that she didn't want to cuddle with Milda for warmth, no, that was no big deal and she really did love a nice cuddle; but Miloslava had been beaten, bested by the weather, and that's what frustrated her so.

[hadzyuka]

SCREAMS #2 is Lily, I know it. My heart

hehehehehehheheheh x2

[hadzyuka]

#3 has to be Imma

hehehehhehehe

[hadzyuka]

i am so sorry i have two more spiders to do but i can’t think of anything fun :’((

[hadzyuka]

whiskyscots​:

     “Sorry, Mils.”

     The miss is dropped obediently, his eyes focused on the nail jabbed toward him and almost crossing, then glancing to her face instead as she drinks. She’s a beautiful woman, no doubt, and he forces himself to push down the slow curl of jealousy in his stomach at the thought of his baby brother earning the right to marry her, to have her to hold. She is no object, and yet he knows she had little choice in the union.

     That jealous curl is back again, this time as bile in his throat.

     “But aye, it is bullshit. The whole jack-lot. I can tell him to fuck off for you, if you’d like. Next time I hear him say it.” The offer means little, since Arthur would likely only scoff and roll his eyes, used to the brash nature of the elder. But still, he can try and make Milena’s life here with them a little more tolerable. “Unfortunately, it seems the position’s gone to his head. Ma and Dad go, me’n Finn say fuck no to the job, and Arthur’s what’s left. Shame that is.”

     There’s a pregnant pause as she drinks and he sits thinking, hand moving to slip a small folding knife out his pocket, fiddling with it. The click of the blade - unfolding, locking, unlocking, folding - is comforting, giving him something to focus on as he collects his thoughts. Then he sighs again.

     “Sorry. Not for- y’know, calling you miss. I’m sorry you got dragged into this mess. Family business is fucked, and you bein’ made into some parrot on his arm when you’re so…” So wonderful, so intelligent, so much more than the gorgeous flutter of lashes and the smile which Alasdair had been blessed to see in the rare moments his jokes didn’t fall flat. He hopes he could continue to coax such grins out of her.

     “So used to your old life, how you used to be able to do things. But for what its worth, I’m glad you’re here. Not- not the bein’ forced to marry Arthur, part, but- fuck, I’m glad we’ve been able to talk.”

Her gaze fell back to the wine glass as she sipped it, jabbing finger returning to her lap to drum against her the crumpled skirt of her dress. The last question she’d asked herself kept bugging her, and her fingers drummed faster against her thigh through the silk. Alasdair was handsome and nice, and though they hadn’t known each other long, Milena had enjoyed each and every time he guarded her. 

Conversation flowed between them in their own little way, and she’d always prefer his company over Arthur’s. Her husband was like a wet rag compared to Alasdair, albeit a rude wet rag.

She drained the wine glass and set it on the table with some finality, her gaze sliding back to him. Milena still frowned, but it was different this time. More contemplative. There was a thought that had been bugging her for quite a while, though it wasn’t until tonight, after a whole bottle of wine, that she finally put words to what she was feeling.

Her gaze traced his features, her heart clenching a bit as she did so. Something felt wrong the way she was admiring him when he was her husband’s brother; then again, was it truly a marriage? It was nothing more than a business deal. She knew Arthur was ‘cheating’ on her, so couldn’t she be allowed these feelings? Just once? They were dancing on the tip of her tongue, and it was hard to not blurt them out when they’d been dwelling at the forefront of her thoughts.

“Sometimes I wish I could have married you.”

She froze, almost as if she hadn’t expected to actually say them out loud, before she began to backtrack. “I mean, fuck, I’m glad we’ve been able to talk too, I just meant, well, you’re a better person than he is-- And I actually enjoy your presence, I just think it would’ve been... so much... better...” Her words had started out in a rush until the end, the last few words uttered so slowly and quietly. This much wine had been a mistake, and so had allowing herself to even try and air out what she was thinking. Milena sunk back in her seat, empty hands immediately covering her face as her nails dug into flesh, expression twisted up in panic and regret. God, what a terrible thing to say.

[hadzyuka]

whiskyscots​:

     “​A Kirkland?”

     Hand raised, outstretched to pass over the bottle opener against his better judgement (really, he should be dissuading her from drinking so much, but he’d do similarly in her position, he knows), his tone is indignant and heavy eyebrows furrowed in almost-horror.

     “Fuck, no. I mean- I ken why you’d clock that, what with the family business and the like, but I’m a mac Beiste.”

     Before she can take it, he’s retracted the bottle opener once again, gesturing with it absent-mindedly as he talks; “Dad, he’s a mac Beiste, but Ma kept her family name, Kirkland. So I took Dad’s, ‘course, since- ye ken, he’s the old head and a great man.”

     A great man with greater-still expectations, Alasdair can almost see his disapproving scowl as he rambles to his brother’s wife, one who had never seemed particularly impressed with her new status in life. Well, he can’t blame her. At her criticism of Arthur his eyebrows raise once more from their thunderous furrow, and he snorts.

     “Aye, he’s… a character. A prat. But you two, I’m sure you’ll warm up eventually, Miss Mils.” Though whether he wants them to- he ignores the smallest spark of something in his stomach at the thought. 

Her hand swiped at his holding the bottle opener, but she’d already set off the man. Milena scowled a bit and watched as he waved his hand around, using the tool to emphatically gesture about his family tree. She only paid half-attention to what he said, eyes following the shiny metal until he stilled enough for her to reach out and deftly yank it away from him. 

She busied herself with opening the new wine bottle until Alasdair commented on her bitter words, and she froze. Milena seemed stunned for a moment, blinking once before her gaze traveled back up to him. “Alasdair. I will never warm up to him.” She spoke incredulously, as if stunned and slightly offended he even insinuated that. “I have been demoted.”

“With my family, I was respected. I was taught things, allowed to do business. Allowed to take part, go out in the field. You know what he tells me?” Her tone rose a bit as her expression twisted into a disgusted look, her grip on the bottle opener tightening. “He tells me to sit pretty like the good wife I am. I--”, ‘want to kill him’, is what she wanted to say. But she couldn’t say that to his brother’s face, no. That was unfair. 

After cutting herself off, Milena’s tense shoulders relaxed, and she popped the cork out of the bottle to pour herself another generous glass. “It is bullshit,” her sharp gaze returned to him again, as she jabbed a manicured nail against the air in his direction to point, “just like you sticking that stupid formality in front of my name.” Her other hand was preoccupied with lifting the wine glass to lips already painted red, and she felt her heart clench a bit. Why did Arthur have to be the immediate successor? 

Why couldn’t it have been him?

[hadzyuka]

i still owe spider memes and stuff, don't look at me

[hadzyuka]

‘The Princess Bride’ sentence meme

Send one to my muse for their reaction

“Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”

“You’re trying to kidnap what I’ve rightfully stolen.”

“While you’re at it, why don’t you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it?”

“They’re terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future.”

“I can cope with torture.”

“Get used to disappointment.”

“You’ve made your decision then?”

“Frankly, I think the odds are slightly in your favor at hand fighting.”

“I would sooner destroy a stained glass window than an artist like yourself.”

“Am I going mad, or did the word “think” escape your lips?”

“Your vote of confidence is overwhelming.”

“I admit it, you are better than I am.”

“You never said anything about killing anyone.”

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

“You mock my pain!”

“Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.”

“Do you always begin conversations this way?”

“This is true love; you think this happens every day?”

“Australia is entirely peopled with criminals!”

“There’s not a lot of money in revenge.”

“You mean you wish to surrender to me? Very well, I accept.”

“Anyone who says differently is selling something.”

“Anybody want a peanut?”

“I do not envy you the headache you will have when you awake. But for now, rest well and dream of large women.”

“Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”

“The battle of wits has begun.”

“I wasn’t nervous. Maybe I was a little bit concerned, but that’s not the same thing.”

“We’ll never succeed. We may as well die here.”

“Please understand I hold you in the highest respect.”

“Isn’t there any way you trust me?”

“You’re trying to trick me into giving away something. It won’t work.”

“I’ll explain, and I’ll use small words so that you’ll be sure to understand, you warthog faced buffoon.”

“I told you I would always come for you. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I’m not saying I’d like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely.”

“You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces.”

“What hideous sin have you committed lately?”

“Yes, you’re very smart. Shut up.”

“There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours.”

“That doesn’t leave much time for dilly-dallying.”

“Where I come from, there are penalties when a woman lies.”

“It would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways inconceivable.”

“I challenge you to a battle of wits.”

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude but this is not as easy as it looks, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me.”

“Do you hear that? That is the sound of ultimate suffering.”

“You be careful. People in masks cannot be trusted.”

“Please consider me as an alternative to suicide.”