#'right then. I look fantastic in pink. 'and me the bonnet.'

[throwaway-yandere]

"I AM HERE" (Yandere Modern CEO! Alhaitham/Reader)

a/n: btw, the logo's made by Esther anon!!! ❤️ Thank you so much!!!! Ily!!!

Unreliable Synopsis: You got recruited as Alhaitham's assistant... But honestly? You'd rather be a damn idol producer.

Mother of Klee, Alice's note: We (Our cutie pie Lumine and I) just wanted you to know that it wasn't our idea to make you Alhaitham's assistant, ✾... That's all! I'll have Barbara pray for you every Sunday <3

Yandere Idol!1k event masterlist

--------

You didn't get the job.

Technically you did get to work for the company, but you still didn't get the job. It's a strange predicament, truly. It would be comparable to learning how to prepare fried eggs in a culinary class and then being informed that you must serve medium-rare steak with sauce for the test.

Yes. You didn't become an idol's producer.

But anyone can imagine the kind of stress you're under when you found out you were hired as the CEO's assistant.

-----

"Ohohoho, a lost guest! It's always nice to see a new face around here! Can I get you something to drink? I promise you can trust me!" A man approached you with two bottles of iced coffee.

You raised an eyebrow, clumsily scratching your neck. 

The taller blonde man beside him sighed exasperatedly. "I don't think anyone in their right mind would accept drinks coming from..."

An idol wearing a weird bonnet? Yeah.

"Geez, trainee, what's with that look? I don't spike drinks. Is that sooo hard to believe?"

"You're Kaveh and you're Venti of 5wirl, aren't you?" It's clear to you who they were after that brief exchange.

"Yep yep!!!" He does a tiny little finger-gun gesture. "The one and only– wait a minute, that's Itto's line."

"S-Sorry to bother you, but I'm quite lost right now..." You stuttered. "If you could lead me to CEO Alhaitham's office, that would be fantastic."

"Aaaahh, so YOU'RE (Y/n)! We heard rumors that you're going to work as that idiot Alhaitham's assistant, is that true?"

Your nose scrunched. Sadly, that does seem to be the case based on TeyvatPro's employees' behavior towards you.

Venti gave you a look of pity, "maybe you'd have a good life if he wasn't the CEO and a cum laude Akademiyan graduate. Unfortunately for you, that guy is both."

But you're also an Akademiyan graduate...

"That bastard's an absolute numbers guy for a linguistics major, if I were you, I'd purposefully bomb that interview," Kaveh said.

Venti shrugged. "Do you even have to try? I'd crumble if I'm stuck with him in a room for more than an hour. He probably got that attitude from his seniors."

But based on the magazine you've read, you were a senior when Alhaitham was a freshman...

"Yeah, yeah, we get it. Enough slander, Venti." Kaveh scoffed. "Like, hello? I was Alhaitham's senior you prick!"

You perked up. "Oh? What did you major in?"

Kaveh gazes at you proudly. "Architecture."

You raised a hand and you shared a quick high-five. "Nice! I love to idle around St. Deshret's building back then--"

"Aaaaaaaalright nerds, we're here!!!"

Venti loudly announced, bowing in front of the door.

A closed door, huh? There are unspoken things about doors when it comes to superiors. It's a pseudo-science that when a superior's door is always open, they value employer-employee relationships and are willing to hear out inquiries. Considering how Sir Alhaitham's closed...

Well... You shouldn't make a mountain out of a molehill.

A pink-haired lady opened the door.

"There you are, little one. Come, wait inside."

---

"We didn't expect someone like you to apply here. Your GPA is astoundingly high– what exactly made you want to apply here?"

The money and the location, but mostly the former. You had a similar salary before your old company faced bankruptcy, but the workplace here has some pretty decent coffee and a nice dental plan. Those standards may be low but at least they weren't nonexistent like your newbie self's preservation skills. 

Miss Miko smiled slyly.

"You know what, don't answer." She said. "The boss should emerge in 3... 2... 1..." 

You heard the door open, but you can't see who it was yet since a bookshelf was blocking your view. 

"Well then, I'll be taking my leave~." The ex-idol giggled. "Farewell, little one."

Of course, it was none other than the CEO himself. Alhaitham walked to his desk, ignoring Miss Miko as he sat down, which amplified your nervousness. He's known as a genius businessman for a good reason. With a demeanor imbued with confidence and wit, his face glows in a rather youthful light. 

"I'm certain you've deduced why I called you here."

You're wary of how his cologne smelled like money. He smells like he's trying to prove something to you. 

"Y-Yes, sir, but I don't think I'd be fit to be your assistant–"

"That's right. You're still incompetent." He deadpanned, "I'm only hiring you because you have neat handwriting, and based on Lumine's analysis, you're something of a realist. My criteria are usually stricter than that."

You know little regarding the full business Alhaitham conducts, but if his standards helped him stay as the CEO instead of Madam Alice, it must be a challenging one.

"But...?" You droned.

"But?"

"W-Why me, then?"

Alhaitham scoffed, "there's no use explaining more than half of my reasonings to you. Let's just say I enjoy how you're something of an odd one out. Uniqueness as an asset is something I value, especially in this industry."

"If I'm not worthy, then may I propose that I'll only be a temporary assistant until you find a suitable idol for me? O-only if you'd allow it, of course."

He raised an eyebrow, not expecting those words from you.

"You're seriously determined to be an idol's producer?"

"I am."

"Even when being MY assistant provides better benefits?"

"Yes, sir."

"How stupidly honest. No, scratch that off the record: you're stupid AND honest." 

You laughed uncomfortably. You're not sure why you're so direct with the CEO. Being straightforward with your potential employer is quite a welcome change from your usual practice of masking your true thoughts with formalities. You usually keep your opinions to yourself, but his mere presence implores you to speak frankly.

"I know that look." He said. "You notice it too, right? We communicate rather naturally for an employer-employee relationship."

"Yes, sir. It's a bit strange."

"Hmm. If you look deep within your past, you wouldn't think it's strange at all."

What does he mean by that? 

Alhaitham reached his hand out. He smirked as you accepted his handshake.

His strong grip feels oddly familiar... You would think that you've known him from somewhere but you are still an Akademiya graduate. You need more evidence to support that gut feeling of yours.

"I like you. Let's get along for the next 5 years."

"Until you find a suitable idol for me." You answered without malice.

His face clenched slightly.

"Sure. Until you no longer need this company."

At that time, you should've noted that there's a difference between those two sentences.

-----

"I AM HERE." Your phone spoke in an AI voice.

It's been a long time since you had your first encounter with Kaveh & Venti and that interview with Alhaitham. Nowadays, you work hard to please the latter. 

You opened your phone. TeyvatPro's app logo is a heart-shaped leaf, but it's anything but natural and comforting. It's corporate and cold. The AKASHA - Device Policy app served as a reminder that you've long abandoned your old job and entered a new business environment.

You miss your old boss. You miss your old colleagues.  

You looked around, unfazed. It's just one of many features the AKASHA app has; it allows Alhaitham to make your phone speak whenever he's searching for you. Since you're usually around wherever he is, this tracker sufficed.

The door opened. You committed the painful error of fulfilling his demands at an ungodly hour of the night, and now Alhaitham has sent you more tasks.

Alhaitham pocketed his phone after seeing you. He just used it to make your phone ring. The AKASHA app doesn't allow you to silence his calls. It'll only stop saying "I AM HERE" once your boss turns it off.

"Mx. (Y/n)."

"Here are the files, sir." 

Miffed at the exasperation in your boss's tone, you cast your eyes downwards as you passed his folder. However, you have to face him head on or he'll begin his streak of "professional" insults. 

You won't let him run his mouth just yet. "Would that be all?"

Alhaitham didn't look like he was in his best mood. As he looked through the folder, skimming through each page with hawk-like eyes, you noticed two strange papers on his desk.

Is that... your file?

"S-Sir, permission to speak?"

"Granted."

"Why is my resume on your desk?" You showed your best poker face because you knew that your next words aren't pleasant. 

"Am I fired?"

Alhaitham spoke immediately, not looking up to face you. "You're uncharacteristically confrontational. Is it because it's 2 in the morning?"

He's wrong about the hour– you're always begrudgingly bending your schedule for your bosses– but he's right about your "lack of spine." However, while you don't need another ulcer, you need this job.

Alhaitham continued, now sporting a more pronounced frown.

"How did you arrive at such a conclusion? I took you as my assistant for good reasons and your groundless inference shames this company."

"I... Pardon?" Rude.

"Perhaps it was wrong for me to assume that you possessed a greater aptitude for critical thinking," Alhaitham spoke sardonically. "Take a look at the desk again. The reason why your resume is there should be obvious."

"Is that right?..."

You glanced at his desk again, gaining unspoken permission to touch and move papers on your boss's desk. When you did, the underlying reason became apparent.

Kaveh's file is also on his desk.

With nowhere to turn, you came up with a single hypothesis.

"Does... Does this mean..." 

You beamed a wonderful smile at your boss, unable back your excitement. "Does this mean I'll be reassigned as Kaveh's producer?!"

He smirked.

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham was pleased as you started associating his motivations with another cause entirely. 

You grabbed Kaveh's resume, grinning from ear to ear as you fan your face. "Holy. Oh my God. I'll finally be an idol's producer!"

"Kaveh is still a trainee," Alhaitham replied but you didn't hear him.

There's no better fit for you to work with than someone as theatric as Kaveh. Visual kei, rock, disco– it makes virtually no difference what Kaveh's idol genre will be; you don't care as long as it sounds nice! In addition to being the only noisy members of the "ABC" or "Alhaitham Bashing Coalition," you both graduated from Akademiya, thus it's impossible for you two to not be close friends. 

"I've never seen a person this happy for getting a downgrade."

"Then clearly you don't know what it's like for people who abandoned their engineering careers to pursue art."

"No. No, I don't." Alhaitham said, picking up more folders in his drawer. "Send this to Miss Minci down the first floor and you'll be excused for the day."

As you should've been in the first place. Today was a Sunday.

"Of course! Thank you so much, sir Alhaitham!"

He nodded, uninterested.

"Don't forget to close the door on your way out." 

--------

"I'm taking Kaveh off the list."

"No, it's nothing personal– never mind. Yes, it is. Alice, I can't tolerate it. If I could swap out Venti for Scaramouche on 5wirl, I would. They're too enmeshed with my assistant's business. They don't know (Y/n) any longer than I have, yet they act like they've been friends with them since they were young while they can barely recall who I am."

"I've looked at Kaveh's file and honestly, only an idiot would miss that he wants to join TeyvatProductions to spite me. He knows my history with (Y/n). He knows what I did to their old company."

"... Hah. Please. They're not going to resign. I listen to their phone calls– they're not going to leave until they pay off their student loans and other debts."

You swallowed dryly. By now you were supposed to be at home, but Miss Minci instructed you to return Alhaitham's folder with her revisions and now you can't help but listen while hiding behind the bookshelf in morbid curiosity.

Consequently, you are now hearing sounds that were not intended for your ears.

"... (Y/n)? A pet?"

Alhaitham laughed.

A pet...?

Your breath hitched as you recalled a conversation you had with Venti months prior.

---------

"Haven't you ever wondered why the big boss never takes his earphone out?"

Whenever you two are alone together, Venti makes sure you turn off your phone when speaking to him. You never understood the reason why before this talk.

"Nope."

"Seriously?" Venti blew a raspberry. "Bullshit– ain't no way. You've never thought that, hmm, maybe he's listening to our conversations? Not even once?"

Alhaitham looks at you like an ant lining up in a row: with clear indifference and little regard, yet he is confident that you serve a purpose no matter how insignificant it may be. You noticed that the ability to exercise control matters to him. Alhaitham is obsessed with omniscience in the most subtle way. He is slightly despised by his people, therefore he used you as a subpar pawn to observe their behavior.

Deep down, you know he has no need for an assistant; you're only here to boost his pride. Hence, you tossed that hypothesis out the window.

"No, I doubt he has the time for that." You said after contemplating.

"Gosh, you're naive," Venti sighed. "You're book smart but not street smart, aren't you?"

"Hah?"

"C'mon, just admit it, (Y/n)," the idol frowned.

"Isn't it obvious that Alhaitham's keeping you like a pet?"

----------

So that's what you are.

Now that you overheard Alhaitham's phone call, everything pieced itself together and it terrifies you.

"They're not a pet to me. They were once my mentor–" Alhaitham muttered.

You took a step back.

Shit.

He must've heard that.

You didn't mean to snoop around. You're not a bad person. You just wanted to drop a few more folders. You didn't mean to eavesdrop–

"... (Y/n), are you there?"

You didn't breathe as you continued hiding behind the bookshelf.

You can't handle this right now. Confrontations are something you do not trust yourself with. 

You stole a glance at Alhaitham as if seeing him for the first time. There sat a man with a veneer of calm. A man you've never met before.

"... Hmph."

Alhaitham pulled out his phone.

His face, his smirk, his breathing... they're now entirely alien to you.

Your phone rang.

"I AM HERE."

Your blood froze.

Anxiety coursed through your veins, not to recede but to possess. Your reaction is almost immediate yet his impinged movements served to make your heart run faster. You propel your heels to the door in a noisy attempt to leave even while you heard his chair drag against the floor, making his way toward you effortlessly. 

Then his cold hand was clamped above yours, holding you and the doorknob with intense firmness.

You trembled.

His grip feels like deja vu.

"There you are. Why are you still here, my assistant?" 

ANSYTEA: hehe thank you ✾ anon for joining the 1k event <333!!!

[pfhwrittes]

Thank you so much! I knew quite a few of the artists you listed but there were still some that are new to me, so I'm excited to check them out!!

I really appreciate how thorough your answers are and providing the links for the specific accents and slang. I feel like that will help me out a lot! I tried to do as much research as I could before I started writing, but there's only so far you can go when you don't know exactly what you're looking for in the first place.

I think Price was the only one that I couldn't exactly find out where he was supposed to be from and what that accent is supposed to be like. I really like the way he sounds in the games, but I might give Scouse!Price a try in one of my oneshots and see how that turns out. I really enjoy writing for things that are underrepresented in fandom so this might turn into my new favorite thing :) (I don't really follow any behind the scenes stuff or the actors themselves but my favorite video I ever came across was the one where Barry was showing off the 'coke and a water' he got after asking for a coconut water)

And I guess with Gaz it's not that his accent isn't as noticeable, so maybe pronounced wasn't quite the right word. I guess I'm just more familiar with the sound of a London accent. I feel like that's the stereotypical 'British' accent that is represented over here in the States, so it feels a little more basic? less embellished? not as hard to understand? Idk I feel like I'm still not quite finding the right word for it. I guess I'm more worried about using the right slang for him whereas with the rest of them it's finding the right slang AND figuring out the right way to write out the accent itself like you explained with the manc 'ya' and 'meh'

But anyways- Thank you again! I'm going to be doing a deep dive into all the links and hopefully come out on the other side a little more confident in my writing :)

Mr Blobanon 🤡

p.s. I don't mind being the Mr Blobby anon 😂 if they had an emoji for him I'd be using it right now lol but the clown will have to do for now.

mr blobanon 🤡! you're back!

i just had a thought, i know my darling @syoddeye is feeling a little under the weather at the moment BUT they have some fantastic music recs if you're looking for general vibes that might fit the characters. i fully recommend listening to the playlist they put together for their fic "For the Record", it's good stuff.

i'd love to see your take on scouse!price when you get round to it if you ever feel like sharing!

most non-uk people are more familiar with london/southern england/home counties/RP accents as that's what you see the most of in british media (booo!) so it makes sense that (for you) gaz's accent is the "default". don't worry about phrasing, i know what you mean and i'm not offended. the only time i get my hackles up is when people take the mick when it comes to regional/working class accents OR when they start up with the whole "scouse/brummie/northern accents are horrible" bullshit.

i'm trying to think of the best way i can help when it comes to solidifying gaz's slang/speech patterns but i'm drawing a bit of a blank. if there's a bit of gaz's dialogue that you're not sure sounds right i can give it a scan for you.

oh and some quick tips for making sure your british characters (specifically english) sound authentic:

it's shops, not store

traffic lights, not stop light

stop sign, not yield sign

boot (of a car), not trunk

bonnet (of a car), not hood

windscreen, not windshield

indicator, not blinker or turn signal

pavement, not sidewalk

road, not pavement

tarmac, not asphalt

bag, not purse

purse (for feminine characters), not wallet or coin purse

wallet (for masculine characters), not billfold

£50 notes are pink (and usually refused in most shops because they're fairly rare when it comes to circulation), £20s are purple, £10s are orange/yellow, £5s are blue

twenty quid note, tenner and fiver are all used commonly when referring to money (i haven't heard of a colloquial term for a £50 because i never have any ��)

when writing out money write it as £1.20/£5.99 - not £1.20p/£5.99p unless it's less than a pound

when writing out money that's under a pound write it as 99p/20p not £0.99/£0.20

we use a blend of imperial and metric measurements just to be confusing

humans get weighed in stones and lbs AND kgs. height (in humans) gets measured as both feet and inches AND metres and centimetres

distances travelled are measured in miles not kilometres

distances measured can be in metres, feet, inches, centimetres, millimetres

volume can and will be measured in pints, gallons, litres and millilitres

that's all i can think of right now but i'm sure there's more! good luck!

[friendlytikek]

Lazarus Drug, Chapter 12

Read HERE.

Or from the beginning HERE.

💜

Summary:

A brilliant high school chemistry teacher with a terminal illness.

A former smuggler desperate to keep his boyfriend around longer.

A criminal seizing the opportunity to reconnect with his best friend the only way he knows how.

A scam artist down on his luck who gets more than he bargained for.

Stede gets lung cancer. A few months shy of his forty-eighth birthday, he’s told he may not live to even make it to his fiftieth. What happens next is a natural response to this.

(this is a breaking bad au)

Chapter Preview:

Six days later, Ed’s feeling good. He’s savouring the constant attention, his shoulder’s healing (although it’s a bitch, having the arm out of action), and Stede seems content looking after him.

Having Stede fuss over him was nice and all, but he wishes it didn’t come at the expense of Stede not looking after himself.

See, he thinks he’s being subtle, ignoring his phone ringing all the time, but Ed knows his tells — Stede’s acting like a man with something to hide.

It’s ringing again right now and Ed knows who it is. The clinic. Has to be. Nobody else would be so persistent, and so steadfastly ignored by Stede, although why, he can’t quite figure out. If it’s bad news, the sooner they know, the better – easier to fix, right?

“Should we order takeout?” Stede asks cheerily, hitting the reject button for what feels like the millionth time.

Ed hums and glances at him. He’s rummaging through the fridge, looking for something still edible, and has been for the last five minutes. It’s been obvious for probably the last four minutes and fifty seconds, they’re running painfully low on options. That’s why they keep resorting to takeout. “Sure,” he says. “Uh, are you gonna answer them at any point in the near future?”

Slowly, Stede turns to look at him, doing a fantastic job of pretending to be shocked. “What do you mean?” he asks, but his eyes flit to his phone. “Oh, that? No, no. That’s just - spam callers,” he assures him. “What would you like? Pizza? Chinese?” He closes the fridge and starts hunting for their takeout menus, just as his phone starts to ring again.

“Spam callers,” Ed echoes, knowing for a fact the typical method of dealing with those is blocking the number or in Stede’s case, taking them on a merry verbal ride. “Whatever, man, think I’m getting sick of all the takeout,” he says, not unkindly. He reaches for the phone. Withheld number, which yeah, almost always means the clinic.

He hits answer.

“Mr Bonnet,” the woman on the other end says, sounding incredibly relieved. “Hi. I’m just calling to arrange an appointment for you, as soon as possible. It’s –”

“The clinic in Portland, yeah, I know. Sorry about that. I’d love to arrange an appointment, when’s your earliest?” Ed asks, eyes fixed on Stede, whose cheeks are pink as he switches to searching through the fridge again. He doesn’t feel great about doing this against Stede’s will, but they can’t fuck around with Stede’s health because of his own.

“Doesn’t even sound like me,” Stede mumbles, as if the receptionist has any way of knowing that.

...read more on AO3...

[docholligay]

Talking about Glascow made me wonder: If Michiru and Haruka visited Scotland, would Haruka refuse to wear a kilt, on the grounds that it looks too much like a skirt?

I think Haruka, up front, would most likely refuse, because, not being Scottish, it just looks like a fucking schoolgirl skirt to her and she has been through enough of that, thank you very much. Haruka can, I think from time to time be a little fragile about her masculinity, at least when she's young.

"My love," says Michiru, a note of infinite patience in her voice, "it is a skirt in the same way a yukata is a dress."

Haruka looks at her with suspicion, before deciding, "That's not the same thing."

"Praytell why, my love?"

"A yukata's like...it's not a dress just because it's not pants. It's different."

"In the same way a kilt may not be a skirt simply because it is not pants?"

"You're trying to trick me."

It's not until they're actually in Scotland, at, I don't know, some affair where a Scot might actually casually wear a kilt, Highland Games or a wedding, or I don't know maybe the office I've never been to Scotland, but the sort of place where you normally wear ~cultural garb~ and she sees, in fact, a bunch of old dads wearing kilts, as well as young men that women can't stop staring at, and she is RESOLVED that she, too, deserves a kilt. Michiru gets her set up with someone in a manner of moments and then has to endure Haruka telling her how shockingly free and breezy it is on a summer's day while resisting the urge to tell her a skirt would be the exact same

[fogsrollingin]

My Favorite OFMD Fics (Recommendation Reviews)

Independence Day is canceled. Human rights and freedoms have been stripped from all Americans as a result of Christian fascist politicians and judges living in the U.S. and infiltrating our Supreme Court. So um let's just think about Our Flag Means Death, okay? /throughsobs/ Okay, here we go ✧ my fic sweet spots for this trope:  hurt Edward Teach, angst, slow burns, I like Stede having a bit of a bite to him vs so many 'darlings' and 'sweethearts' (which sort of morphs into Aziraphale from Good Omens in my mind for some reason haha; I really look forward to Rhys/Stede making those endearments his so I can better imagine them in his voice for fic!) ✧ Last updated 7/4/2022. Let's get started! Haunt me, then by hyruling (AO3). Rated Explicit, Blackbonnet, 28k words. Summary: He releases the ropes slowly, barely registering the burn as they slip through his fingers. Then, fallible as Orpheus, turns to meet his ghost. https://archiveofourown.org/works/39165330 This fic's Edward angst is so amazing, it had me tearing up a few times before Stede even makes his appearance. The slow, conflicted burn between them trying to reconcile their mistakes together is the absolute best. It's what isn't in the name by tciddaemina (AO3). Rated Mature, Blackbonnet, 41k words. Summary: The first thing they see - apart from Captain Bonnet himself, all silked up and frilly and a sight in his own right - is the cat sitting primly by his ankles. She's a white, well-groomed thing, coat as pale and smooth as snow, with a delicate pink ribbon around her neck and a little golden bell hanging at her throat. And sure, she's a little big, on the large side as house cats go, reaching right up to his knee, and a bit leggy as well but the crew still takes one look at her and feel their estimation of their new captain drop another sharp couple of notches. This, they think incredulously, is the man that proposes to be our fearsome pirate captain? "My name is Captain Stede Bonnet," the new captain says proudly, sweeping an arm out in greeting, looking so pleased and chuffed and ever so slightly nervous to meet them. "And this is Miss Daisy Bonnet, though of course you may all call her captain as well." "Two dubloons on a mutiny by the end of the week." Frenchie murmurs with a sharp bite of mirth. On his shoulder, Beauregard lets out a soft tittering laugh, the songbird's beak clicking. "Not taking that bet." Pete replies snappishly, still glowering sullenly at the captain. https://archiveofourown.org/works/38203582 A really fascinating version of season 1 with daemons inserted. I loved Stede's character and development in this. I love how Stede-centric it was because I tend to lean into Edward more but this one captured me, had me adoring and respecting Stede as much as Ed had come to do. Also, while the fic follows season 1, the events are changed in interesting ways so it doesn't feel like a retread of what you watched in the show. Fantastic story. Reflected In Hell's Mirrors by Nuriashnee (AO3). Explicit, Blackbonnet, 51k words. Summary: Ed knew that wasn't Stede as soon as he saw him. A ghost or a demon maybe, but not the Stede he'd known. Christ, he looked like the materialized wrath of an Angel. His shirt was torn and there was a downpour falling over him. There was a sword in his hand, already bloodied, and he was coming for him. -- Ed isn't prepared for Stede coming back. Let alone for this new him, ready to follow him to the ends of the Earth just to try to fix what he'd broken after leaving him. https://archiveofourown.org/works/38567427 Ed's angst was delicious, and Stede's steadfast love breaking his barriers down was handled so well. It was such an amazing slow reunion fic, and then we got offered up two amazing, emotional sex scenes that told a story of their own. Really, really well done. I'm so happy to have read this story. a shipwreck heart to haunt the sea by eldritch_beau. Mature, Blackbonnet, 14k. Summary: He buries his nose into his armful of shirts and takes a deep breath. It soothes a yawning ache somewhere in his chest and makes his lips tremble, his eyes water. Enveloped in the comfort of what is the closest he will ever come to hugging Stede again, he lets the floodgates open. “Fuck you, Stede.” he cries into the clothes of a dead man, “You had to go and fucking die instead of coming with me.” -- or, meeting again, like they once first met. https://archiveofourown.org/works/38579718 Angst with a happy ending YAAAAAASSSS I loved Ed's grief, poor bunny Unintentional Seduction by mnwood. Teen+, Blackbonnet, 3k words. Summary: Stede turned his attention back to Ed and whispered, “I suppose we can take this conversation down to my quarters.” Ed nodded and giggled in response, and both of them shushed each other as they tried to quietly make their way through the sleeping crewmates. It was becoming a habit, really. Ed had been on the Revenge going on two weeks now, and each night he would join the crew on the main deck while Stede read them stories. Reading stories always dissolved into telling ghost stories, which dissolved into individual conversations breaking off until everyone, one by one, fell asleep. Stede and Ed were always, always the last ones still awake, still talking. https://archiveofourown.org/works/38520409 /cries/ They love each other so much, it's sooooooooo AHHHHHHHHHH [Selfies Reccies!] Revenge, Blackbonnet, Mature, 5k words. Summary: "Remember he just beat us down? Just- just ground us down into nothing?" - "Oh, I remember. I was there. He treated us like dogs. Worse than dogs!" AO3 || FFN I'm really proud of this one. It hits some sensitive themes but the worst is over after the first chapter. The rest is vengeance and recovery and shmoop.  Surrender, Blackbonnet. Teen. 2k words. Summary: "Surrender." Stede's words were even and firm. He was at the helm facing Blackbeard. Their swords were unsheathed but only half-raised, as though neither of them could really threaten each other. AO3 || FFN Obligatory reunion fic that any self-respecting OFMD fan has written obvs >>>Click back to my Fic Recs Masterpost

[howl-core]

I love your account so much! Quick question (that could definitely have a long answer): which era of fashion do you see HMC inhabiting? There are certain context clues, like velvet and petticoats, but it seems DWJ kept it intentionally vague. She mentions the world being a fairy tale brought to life, but what kind of storybook, is my question.

Hi!! Oh my god I’m so sorry it took me this long to answer this😭….. but still! Thank you:D I LOVE this question, especially because we don’t really have a definitive ‘canon’ answer. I’m so curious what Diana herself would say... but even though we sadly can no longer ask her, I think in some ways not knowing can be even better, because it gives us so much freedom! Since you seem amenable to it, I would love to indulge in a long, needlessly thorough answer, to make up for how long it took me to reply:

I think there are two factors to consider. Number one is, “If Ingary is set in an era based on one from our world, what are the clues in the text we can use to help narrow down which era(s) it could be?”

The second factor is, “Ingary is a fantasy land, so does it mirror an era from our world at all? And in what part of our world?”

However, regardless of which “factor” you ascribe to regarding Ingary, it’s helpful to have as much textual evidence on hand about clothing in Ingary as possible when forming an idea of it overall. I skimmed through my copy of HMC and tried to find as many notable descriptions of clothes as possible (which was not as labor-intensive as it sounds, I promise!! By now I know the story very well so I already knew roughly where to find everything.) Here is what I found:

- The hat shop!! Right off the bat, we learn that there are hats made of straw, felt, velvet, and silk; they can be decorated with veiling and ‘hidden twinkles’, feathers, flowers and fruit made from wax and silk, and that they can be wide-brimmed, or bonnets, or ‘smart’.

- Clothing items mentioned in the Mayday scene: “Trailing silk sleeves”, “trailing cloaks and long sleeves and stamping buckled boots they would never have dreamed of wearing on a working day”

- The iconic blue-and-silver suit, of course, is on separate occasions described as “fantastical” and “flamboyant”; on Mayday Sophie observes that “His [Howl’s] sleeves trailed longer than any in the Square, all scalloped edges and silver insets.” When Sophie is mending it after the Green Slime Incident, she cuts it into triangles. It is unclear to me whether the suit actually consists of triangles of fabric, or if Sophie is just cutting triangles out of it: “She hobbled up and fetched the blue-and-silver suit, which she spent the rest of the day cutting little blue triangles out of in order to make a patchwork sort of skirt.” (p. 107) “Poor Lettie! Sophie thought, putting brisk, tiny stitches round her fifty-seventh blue triangle. Only another forty or so to go.” (p. 168) When Sophie and Michael accidentally gigantify it, we learn that it has “a frill of collar” as well as silver buttons. (p. 183-184)

- The grey-and-scarlet suit — Presumably similar in style to the blue-and-silver one?

- The Witch of the Waste is described as wearing: “A sable wrap drooping from her elbows and diamonds winking all over her dense black dress... the lady’s wide hat [had] real ostrich plume dyed to reflect the pinks and greens and blues winking in the diamonds and yet still look black.” Interestingly, while I guess I could picture this ensemble in a 19th or 18th-century style, the first thing this description made me think of was actually more like a 1940’s prima donna/movie star look lol. (perhaps even a bit like Lady Dimitrescu😳)

- p.101 “[Lettie] was wearing a dress of the same kind of pinks and white as the crowded apple blossom overhead. Her dark hair trailed in glossy curls over one shoulder,”

- p.6 “There was one deep rose outfit [Sophie] made for Lettie… which Fanny said looked as if it had come from the most expensive shop in Kingsbury.”

- In another appearance (p.157) she is described thus: “Her hair, instead of being orderly chestnut curls, was a rippling mass of red, hanging almost to her waist, and she was dressed in floating flutters of auburn and pale yellow.”

- p. 151: The soldiers at the palace are “splendidly dressed” in red and wear white gloves (the ones upstairs wear blue instead of red)

- p.51: “Outside stood a personage wearing a stiff white wig and a wide hat on top of that. He was clothed in scarlet and purple and gold, and he held up a little staff decorated with ribbons like an infant maypole... Scents of clove and orange blossom blew into the room.” (Michael also mentions that he thinks this person is the Chancellor’s clerk)

- Michael wears “his best plum velvet suit” to see the king (p. 68)

- The clothes Howl buys Sophie and Michael: “Several pairs of silk stockings; two parcels of the finest cambric petticoats, with flounces, lace, and satin insets; a pair of elastic-sided boots in dove-grey suede; a lace shawl; and a dress of grey watered silk trimmed with lace that matched the shawl... the lace alone was worth a fortune.” “Michael unwrapped a handsome new velvet suit.” (p. 122)

- Mrs. Pentstemmon’s estate: The trio are greeted by “an elderly footman in black velvet”; Mrs. P herself wears “a gold-mesh mitten, on a gold-topped cane. She wore old-gold silk, in a very stiff and old-fashioned style, finished off with an old-gold headdress not unlike a crown, which tied in a large old-gold bow beneath her gaunt eagle face.” (p. 143)

- Howl’s black ensemble includes “a long jet pendant” as his earring (his single earring?? king) on p.184

…Ah fuck I bet there’s more but that’s enough for now. I think I would want to make a separate post talking about the hints we get about the world *itself*… But one that pops out to me is actually that Howl having an indoor toilet is described as a kingly luxury, lol. That definitely helps us narrow down the time frame. We know that indoor toilets of some kind do exist, but having one is very rare. (I kind of don’t like to treat this as canon lmao… somehow I can’t picture the streets of Market Chipping flooded with chamber pot contents, as realistic as it may be) That puts it probably a little before the 1700’s or earlier, if we are comparing it to our world’s timeline. Interestingly:

“In the 18th century, the first public water supply networks (examples of old water supply piping pictured above) were installed in London by private companies. They served limited areas of the city, allowing the wealthy to access fresh water on tap.” According to the same article, “The S-bend was introduced to the design of flush toilets by Scottish inventor Alexander Cumming in 1775. This modification allows for fresh water to sit in the toilet bowl, at the same time as preventing sewage water and fumes from rising into it, generally improving hygiene. The basic technology has been in use ever since.” (Wild I never knew this lol… trivia night here I come!!)

…So that seems to put us roughly around the 1700s?

That mostly checks out with the descriptions of the clothes, I think! Both of these slides seem to at least somewhat match the descriptions of big/trailing sleeves, boots, the “suits”, and general elaborateness:

And these fantastic timelines are certainly compatible with the descriptions of dresses and hats that we get!

Additionally, although the heyday of European fairytales was a bit earlier (1500’s-late 1600’s), lot of fairytales were still written roughly around this time — Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve published the first official version of La Belle et la Bête (Beauty & the Beast) as we know it today in 1740, Johann Karl August Musäus published the Volksmärchen der Deutschen between 1782 and 1787; and Grimm’s Fairy Tales, or Kinder- und Hausmärchen, was first published in 1813. So this would absolutely work as a time period around which to base a fractured fairytale such as HMC, although the 1500’s and 1600’s would also work… If I weren’t deciding to base this entire argument around ONE mention of a toilet………. but anyways. That’s Option One. (Cannot believe I’m basing all this off a toilet…)

But anyway. Option Two — ignoring *our* world’s timeline entirely— is… me doing whatever the hell I want. And that is, essentially, one big historical mishmash! CHAOS!! A Frankenstein-ed together Victorian, Georgian, Elizabethan, and Edwardian tilt-a-whirl of frocks and finery, along with a dash of style that has no equivalent in our world at all!

I must admit, the Ghibli movie has a bit of influence over my idea of Ingary — I absolutely love the post-Industrial Revolution, quasi-steampunk aesthetics of Ghibli’s Market Chipping, and the mid/late 1800’s fashions that the characters wear! I could easily see the Hatter sisters wearing those lovely side-buttoning Victorian boots, and my god, that film did hats SO much justice. I also adore Markl’s little waistcoat+bow tie+trousers combo in the movie and usually mentally give Michael something similar to that, just in different colors. But overall, I don’t see Book!Ingary being steampunk or post-Industrial, as much as I love it in the film. Perhaps little elements of that here and there, but again, I see it as a big mishmash of multiple eras. I love picturing the King’s guards with frilly Elizabethan collars, pageboy/squire haircuts (even though the King’s chancellor has a white wig, suggesting a more Georgian aesthetic) and puffy little breeches. Lol. I think of Lettie’s pink dress in the orchard as very mid-late 1700’s, perhaps similar in design to the 1763, 1785 or 1790 dresses in the dress timelines above. Mrs. Pentstemmon I imagine in full, damely Victorian splendor. Somehow, as I mentioned before, the Witch of the Waste seems almost outside of this timeline entirely, like a grand 1930’s movie star.

And as for for Howl and Sophie… Well, I actually have a project pending this May Day for my official headcanon of Howl’s blue/silver suit and Sophie’s gray dress;) So perhaps you will see that then! But for now, I will say that Sophie’s grey dress has a fairly consistent design in my mind, but Howl’s suit changes a LOT. Sometimes I imagine him in these very crisp 1700’s clothes, almost like Lestat, but sometimes it’s more of a costumey, wizardly, elegant-but-slapdash getup. Like, the blue and silver patches on his suit are all made from different fabrics, almost like a quilt. And rather than the prim silver-buckle shoes of the Lestatcore version, he wears taller, pirate-y boots — elegant and very well-made, of course, very debonair, but much better for dirty work and running around. That’s how I imagine it anyway.

…Oh god, this got SO long lmao. But I hope I was able to give you the kind of answer you were looking for! I LOVE hearing and seeing other people’s versions of Ingary and its chaotic cast of characters. Do feel free to tell me yours, I’d love to hear them! Sorry again that this was so late, thank you for asking<3

[jaskierswolf]

A Thirst Like Flames

Part 6/6  (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

Ship: Gerlion - Rated: E (for smut) - Also on AO3

Rated E - for smutty reasons.

Dandelion shivered as he wrapped his heavy burgundy red cloak around his shoulders. Kaer Morhen had some of the most beautiful views in the continent but it was bloody freezing. It was his first day at the keep and he had yet to meet the other witchers, too exhausted when he’d first arrived, barely conscious as Geralt dragged him through the gates. One bath and a good nap later, he felt more like himself again. If not a little nervous, not too dissimilar to stage fright he’d experience in his youth. His heart felt like it was racing in his chest and his fingers tugged at his clothes, needing something to do.

The sound of his footsteps reverberated in the draft halls, the acoustics just perfect for a performance. Dandelion made a note to bring his lute down to dinner once they’d settled in. Geralt’s family had probably heard of him, maybe even heard his songs through other, less talented, bards, but Geralt was the only witcher from Kaer Morhen that he’d had the pleasure to meet.

And oh it certainly was a pleasure.

The scent of cooking venison filled his nose as he drew closer to the kitchens, making his stomach rumble in anticipation, and he could hear the sounds of laughter.

“Ah, found them,” he cheered to himself, pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders. The feathered bonnet that was usually perched on his head had been left behind in Geralt’s room, instead the thick woollen hood was keeping his ears warm, and completely messing up his hair.

Dandelion had hoped that he would look his best when meeting Geralt’s family, but alas the cold had rather scuppered that dream. So, he took a deep breath and held his head up high before entering the room. As expected the witchers fell silent, Geralt’s eyes found his across the room, and it was easy to get lost in his gorgeous golden gaze. Dandelion winked at his witcher before turning to the rest of the room. There were more witchers there than Dandelion had been anticipating. Geralt had only told him about three other remaining Wolf School witchers, Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert. The silver haired witcher resting closest to the fire with a book in his hand was most likely Vesemir. Another golden eyed witcher who bore a striking resemblance to Geralt, aside from the vicious scar that ran across his cheek and his dark brown hair, was probably Eskel. That left a third witcher with golden eyes, who he assumed to be Lambert, and two others. One had long flowing dark brown hair, and startling blue eyes, the other bald with a thick dark beard and green eyes. The latter two both had dark tanned skin that was striking in comparison the chalky white skin of the Wolf witchers.

“Greetings, I am so sorry I’m late. I do hope that Geralt wasn’t too much of a grump without me,” he flashed a charming grin at the occupants of the room.

Lambert burst into fits of laughter and stood up, pulling Dandelion into a tight hug, lifting him off the floor. The air was forced from his lungs and he squeaked as his legs were suddenly dangling in the air, but warmth bloomed in his chest. Lambert was supposed the most prickly out of Geralt’s family, and Dandelion had apparently won him over purely by teasing his own grump of a witcher.

“I like this one, Geralt. He can stay,” Lambert laughed as he dropped Dandelion back to the floor.

“Ah, why thank you, Lambert.”

“Geralt was inconsolable, pacing the floor, pulling his hair out. If he hadn’t already gone grey….”

Geralt growled from the corner which set Lambert off again. “Shut up.”

“Oh bite me,” Lambert snapped back.

“Boys!” The elder witcher, who Dandelion was sure was Vesemir, barked and the two younger wolf witchers fell silent. “We have a guest, try not to act like animals.”

“Well-” Eskel started to say with a crooked grin, “-we are wolves.”

Dandelion giggled and strutted across the room until he reached Geralt’s chair. The seat next to his witcher was vacant but it didn’t matter. Dandelion fell into Geralt’s lap, pressing his lips to his cheek. “I think it’s sweet that you were worried about me, darling. Now then, are you going to introduce me?”

“They know who you are, Dandelion.”

Dandelion scoffed and rolled his eyes, running his hands through Geralt’s hair. It was surprisingly untangled, still soft and well conditioned despite the hike up the mountain. As he carded his fingers through the silver locks, Dandelion could smell the gentle scent of chamomile, the oil that he’d bought for Geralt on their first anniversary before their journey to Kaer Morhen. His usual lavender oil was too strong for Geralt’s heightened sense of smell, but the chamomile was subtle enough and helped to calm the witcher even when he was high on those blasted potions.

He began to separate the strands of Geralt’s hair, fingers working nimbly as he continued to speak. “They may know me, but I am afraid I wasn’t quite in my right mind when I arrived. I only know of your family, dearest, and unless I’m very much mistaken. I’m not the only visitor this year?”

“Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert you know,” Geralt gestured to the golden eyed witchers in turn. “Aiden,” he pointed to the blue-eyed man who had now settled onto the seat next to Lambert and was happily draped across the man’s lap. “Coën.” The green-eyed witcher smiled back at him. “And this is Dandelion, my bard.”

“I am absolutely thrilled to finally get to meet you,” Dandelion cooed at the witchers, not bothering to look at the braid in his hands. He’d done this so many times that he could probably do all but the most complex designs in his sleep. When he wasn’t playing his lute or scribbling away in his notebooks, he often needed something to do with his hands. Otherwise he felt restless. Geralt had noticed and suggested the braids. Dandelion had tried, and was still trying, to get his witcher to let him curl his hair, but Geralt was being stubborn about it. “Geralt has told me so much about you,” he lied.

Eskel chuckled. “That would be a first.”

“And probably a last too,” Lambert agreed.

“Fuck off,” Geralt grumbled and Dandelion giggled, poking his witcher’s nose with one elegant long finger.

“Be nice to your brothers, Geralt-” he chided before brushing his lips against Geralt’s ear, “-or else we won’t get to enjoy that fantastically large bed of yours later.”

The other witchers in the room all groaned, just as Dandelion had suspected they might, but he played innocent and smiled brightly up at them all, launching into a tirade of questions to divert their attention. Kaer Morhen was fascinating and Dandelion wanted to know everything! He was particularly curious as to why there were two witchers from other schools in the keep. There was just so much potential in just this one room! Dandelion’s reputation as the White Wolf’s bard and poet was about to get a makeover, he would be the barker for witchers everywhere!

The evening passed in merriment, music and mirth. Wine and liquor were spilled, and the roast venison was simply to die for. Dandelion kept a hand on Geralt at all times, in his hair, resting on his thigh, his arm, his shoulder. After a year together, Dandelion still couldn’t quite believe that he was allowed to love this beautiful, kind and generous man, and that he was loved in return, but Geralt showed his love and devotion every day.

It wasn’t poetry and roses like Dandelion was used to, but it was Geralt’s own unique language of love that Dandelion delighted in learning, and he’d always been a quick study.

No, Geralt’s love was more heartfelt than any superficial trinkets or flowers that would die. It was woven into the very essence of Dandelion’s lute, each note the instrument played, every word that fell from his lips. The love shone in the stars above their camp as they cuddled together for warmth, Dandelion’s chest pressed to Geralt’s back as their limbs tangled together. It was in the breath of each kiss, the swing of his swords.

Geralt’s love was all encompassing and it was his.

Or perhaps he was merely a poet in love.

What did it matter? The result was the same. They were happy together, despite the darkness in the world around them, there was light, like the flames that danced in the hearth as Vesemir began to snore.

Dandelion sighed, rubbing his nose along Geralt’s jaw and kissing his neck. “Time for bed, my love?”

Geralt grunted and swept Dandelion up into his arms. The world spun and Dandelion squeaked as he hurried to fling his arms around Geralt’s neck, not that he thought Geralt would drop him, but, well, it was always better to be safe, and it gave him an excellent excuse to continue kiss the pale skin of Geralt’s neck. The bruises never lasted more than an hour but it didn’t mean that Dandelion couldn’t try. He giggled as he nipped at the skin below the witcher’s ear.

“Would you two get a room?” Lambert groaned.

“Oi,” Aiden swatted his boyfriend over the head, “don’t be a spoilsport, we could always watch.”

Dandelion winked at the Cat witcher, making Lambert flush a deep red. “Out!” he barked.

“With pleasure,” Geralt chuckled, carrying Dandelion through the halls and back up to their room.

It didn’t take them long to disrobe, lips moving in slow languid kisses as they caressed and touched and held each other close. Dandelion’s fingers hooked under the chain of Geralt’s medallion, the only item left between them, and he held the silver wolf in his hand before kissing the cold metal. The witcher shivered as the medallion once again rested on his chest and Dandelion moved on to kiss the pale pink scars that covered his shoulders.

“I love you, dearest Geralt,” Dandelion hummed, and Geralt’s finger hooked under his chin, lifting his head so their lips once again met in a soft kiss.

They’d made love before, but this was Geralt’s room, not some shit-hole of an inn, or in the exposed elements of nature’s forests. This was a home, more importantly, it was Geralt’s home, and he was honoured to finally be a part of it. There was a whole new level of intimacy which warmed Dandelion’s heart, like the sun rising over the horizon, flowers blooming in the spring and fluttering cries of the birds to bring in each new day.

Geralt lifted him up, carrying him towards the bed and Dandelion could feel the anticipation, lust and arousal begin to cloud his mind in a dizzying haze. His witcher was looking at him with the utmost adoration and oh did that make his heart sing. As his back hit the mattress, Geralt stopped and stared at him, a calloused finger brushing against his cheek. It was almost too much, burning in its intensity.

Dandelion let out a nervous giggle, leaning into his lover’s touch. “What is it, my dear?”

Geralt just shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Poppycock,” Dandelion declared, reaching up to capture Geralt’s lips in a quick kiss. “Tell me, darling.”

“You look beautiful.”

Dandelion felt himself blush. His hair was fanned out behind his head and he was sure his face was the colour of the sweetest roses but he was nothing extraordinary, certainly nothing that Geralt hadn’t seen before. Yet this fire that burned between them felt entirely new, and his witcher’s expression was so tender, so heartfelt.

“You look beautiful,” Dandelion echoed, and then because he was a poet. “Radiant as the sun, and as ethereal as the moon, my darling, my dearest, my… hmmph!”

Geralt cut off his ramblings with a kiss and Dandelion wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck, pulling him closer. They had time to savour every moment, every touch, every kiss. They had forever.

[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 2

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 31: I went to Tesco’s at Hampton at @8pm. It was weird. But I made it less weird by buying (amongst all the legit stuff I needed and some stuff for Karen’s mum) more booze. I have, atm about 30 assorted cans and 60 assorted bottles. I’m gonna stop buying booze now until I’m down to the last dozen. I don’t want owt to happen and I leave many behind!

Day 32: More than a calender month! I was rung up by a recruitment agent today about a contract with DHL as a remote support engineer to their aviation section. €400 a day! I’ve applied. Few beers tonight, watching a new Netflix release (Extraction) and catching up with Fog, Ham, Andy and Rog later at 10:30pm - yikes, might be pissed.

Day 33: Typing this on day 34. Dossed around during the day, few beers and another video call with fog, Ham and Rig plus I invited John Monk along. He was his usual self and signed off from the call with a moonie! Later on I had the pleasure of Scottish Louise video calling me! She was pissed, in her shed drinking den at her home with some neighbour called Ronnie and her daughter Ellie. She was her usual outrageous self who imaprted such gems as “Tim, you look old” and “Roger on coke is the only time I’ve taken it up the arse”. Nice.

Day 34: Today I skyped Laurie and ‘met’ Matthew and Nicholas for the first time. It was bloody fantatsic. Janine was there as well.I cannot believe it takes lockdown (plus an idea to get Laurie to add me to his regular Monday skype chat with Dad) that managed to get us doing something that should have happened years ago! It was so great to talk to them all face-to-face. Janine hasn’t changed a bit, Matthew is very quiet with Nicholas being the more gregorious twin. And Laurie is still Laurie. I’m reminded of how much I sort of miss him! It was all so comfortable. I loved it! Tomorrow is Dad’s 85th hence the 3-way chat idea. I hope it comes off!

Day 35: So dad and Laurie and I skyped. It was OK but my video feed was very dark, (still dunno why) and Lauire’s kept freezing. I dropped out so as to leave them to it, my thinking being the extra person takes up bandwidth, with the promise I’d call dad later. Before I could, Rita called me and suggested Dad and I skype, which we did. So, all in all, a good day of comms! And Dad seems his happy usual self - 85 years old! Amazing.

Day 36: I am really struggling to motivate myself this week. Today, I’ve done fuck all of note. That is all.

Day 37: A similar day to yesterday. All I have really managed to do is lay down audio from Pink Floyd (Absolutely Curtains) to a video I shot of a cow on yesterday’s walk. I am having a downer of a week without any good reason why, ld aside. I have worn my new walking boots today (’cos my old ones are leaking, I found out yesterday) and they fucking hurt, despite having tried to wear them in for months, albeit pathetically. Also, a few days ago (Friday 24th April), I got notification from HM Revenue & Customs that I’m getting tax rebate (from 2018-19) of £392. Yay!

Day 38: I received notification today that I’ve got a speeding ticket…last Thursday back from Tesco’s - 87mph somewhere between the A1 and Elton. I am hoping it’s a fixed penalty. I dunno whether it is yet, I just have to send the form off confirming it’s my car and I was driving. I spoke with Lynda from Woodfords asking her to ask for a rent reduction before I sign for another year. Plus, I let her know that I will be Howard and Sue’s eyes as the look at rental properties in Oundle - I do hope they return although it would be a shame for them that their plans have been scuppered (she’s lost her job in Oz due to Covid-19)

Day 39: Today I started another piece of exercise - up and down the stairs 26 times. Not sure why 26 - it was some thing online to do with the London Marathon, I think. It fucking killed. I used 13 clothes pegs for a counting system. I asked Karen to pick up some stuff when she was shopping (burgers, radishes) - Dan dropped them off, He was with Shaggy (driving his van) and going to see Jonah. That pisses me off - they should be social distancing, ffs.

Discoevered, today, that Cornershop, post-Brinful are fucking excellent. listening to the album ‘England is a Garden’ as I type.

Day 40: That 26 times up and down the stairs is fucking hard. I did videos about it today. My legs are aching like fuck right now.

Day 41: Just done Young Sam’s (Sam Clews) quiz. 3rd week running and it’s now become a habit and something I look forward to. Out of all the internet driven socialising I’m undertaking in ld, this is the weirdest - I feel totally detatched from all others taking part but, now, would feel pissed off if I didn’t or couldn’t join in. I got 47/70 this week. My best score and only about 8 off the winning score  -  most others aren’t doing it on their own!

Today’s walk was a cloudy one - I captured some fine, dramatic pics of the clouds. I am getting into this photography lark, albeit very amateurish. But, when I post any pics online (mostly FB), they seem to be widely appreciated, which is nice.

Day 42: Applied for a remote service delivery job with a firm called TTEC. £60k. Finished watching The Outsider. The creepiest TV show I have seen in years. Really great use of background music.

Day 43: Finished Mindhunter S2 last night. It’s so good but I cannot quite put my finger on why. Today has been a nothing day apart from day 2 of me not typing the letter ‘e’ in any post or comments on FB for a week. It’s hard.

Day 44: Watch Anna last night. A Luc Besson film that starts a kick-ass suprermodel. It’s right down my street. Today I have been lazy af. I need to pick up my online learning again…tomorrow, maybe! I watched Andy Murray Resurfacing. A documentary on Amazon. Fantastic. What a top man he is. Completely human and completely inhuman!

Day 45: Much talk in the news of possible lockdown relaxation. I am off the opinion we should stay the course until we are completely assured of beathing this thing i.e. a working, widely available vaccine. Dad and I Skyped - he is doing well, as usual. So is Rita. They both seem very happy in lockdown! Today has been a glorious day, weather wise. I had my walkk at 10ish this morming and it was very warm. Hottest day of the year so far I reckon.

Day 46: Bank holiday Friday (75th anniversary of VE day). Nice walk. Chat with Karen letting her know about being caught speeding just in case I am banned and need some out of town shopping. Watched second episode of DEVS by Alex Garland. It’s good and intriguing. Now, @7pm, gonna eat and hit the beers and smokes.

Day 47: Typing this at 15:45 on day 48. I had lots of beers and a good old chat with Rog…

Day 48: Today’s daily press conference was eagerly anticipated today with rumours of a relaxation in lockdown. It seems it was a fuss about nothing with no clear instructions - I didn’t watch it but, skimming the BBC news site, I shan’t be doing anything different over the next few weeks, not that I would anyway - furlough and self isolation are the order of the day and I won’t change that until I am sure it’s safe. Meanwhile people, including Danny flaunt the rules, it’s been pointed out to me plus I know he spends time with Jonah and Marc. It really fucks me off. So, the actions of the few mean I will lock myself down for as long, if not longer, as it takes. Attended Sam Clews quiz again. It passes the time. Also, I had half a scotch bonnet chilli with tea tonight (roasted veg, cous cous and sausages). Ridiculously hot!

Day 49: Received the speaker I ordered a few days ago (from eBay). It’s an AudioPro Addon T10. I got it for a very reasonable price from a German shop. As a result, the power lead isn;t three pin and that has seriously fucked me right off!

Meanwhile, I did my 26 stair climb before my daily walk today. It was easier than usual (surprise surprise) and I did 7km - but that was tough! ‘Cos I am on (yet another) free trial of Amazon Prime, I am ramping up watching stuff available. Last night I watched Booksmart - really nice little film with a great soundtrack. I am listening to Dan the Automater as I type. Today I watched half (3 eps) of The Night Manager and the film ‘The Founder’. The former is a superb series, the latter an OK film about Ray Kroc - the supposed founder of McDonald’s. Except he wasn’t; he was the wrong side of ambitious and a cunt.

Day 50: Stripped the 2 pin cable from the speaker I received yesterday and wired up a 3 pin plug and it worked. Win. And it sounds great. Win-win. Went to go shopping in Hampton but the car wouldn’t start. Loss. But it was the battery so I managed to borrow Karen’s jump starter which worked. Win.

Spent £107. Loss. But just under £40 was booze plus £10 for two big pizzas, two sides (dirty fries) and some dips. Win. Didn’t do any online learning - seriously fucking letting myself down. Loss.

Did my usual walking and 26 stair climb. The latter is hard but defo getting easier. Win. Day 51: Sam’s 51st birthday on day 51 - coincidence! Today I received my face mask from Lou - House of Stewart tartan. I’m pleased with it and that I have got a mask now. I managed to get up at a reasonable hour, just left 09:00, and revisit my web design course. Module 1, lesson 5 and I am fucking stuck. Trying to code an online CV with a side nav bar and I cannot get it to fucking work. Grrrrrr. Later, i got into a FB dispute (easily distracted due to the above) with someone over his statement of fact (Tim Martin’s treatment of Whetherspoons’ employees) when he doesn’t know it’s fact. It probably is, but that is not the fucking point.  I wish I could leave these sort of spats alone. I am drinking, at 20:45, peppermint tea as I type. Jeez, what’s happened to me?

Day 52: Well, last night took a swift chnage. Rog message me and, to cut a long story short, I hit the beers, also called Foggy later, got trashed. I got up today at gone 1pm. Sam posted on fb that Paul had forgort her birthday yesterday. Oh dear! The 26 stair climb and walking each day is noticeable for how knackered my legs feel all the time, I noticed today!

Day 53: My birthday! Nice comments and banter of FB. Rachael brought round a bottle of whisky; gobsmacked. Karen popped round some beers and sausage rolls. Sam sent a card, as did dad with a £50 cheque. Dan’s ordering me a pizza later.

Chuffed! Day 54: I went to bed late after a lot of beers, huge pizza and chips, a few smokes and a long call with WWJ and video chats with Fog then Rog. Got up around 1pm and dossed with my usual exercises and I made fish pie with a scotch bonnet. Day 55: Late one last night but up early today (11ish). Really fretting about hospital tomorrow. Nervous anyway but the safety aspect, in terms of Covid-19, isn’t helping.

Day 56: Hospital appointment was just for an eye scan so the consultant can review it. I was very surprised to see how few people were wearing face masks! I did two lots of washing today. (After the hospital) I went to Morrsions, Asda (queue too long though), B&M (queue too long though) then Tesco’s. All to buy a baseball cap ‘cos I’m fucked if I’m going to wet my hair each time I go out and want it to look presentable! In Morrsions (no mens’ clothing apart from underwear!) I stocked up of 10 cans of sugarfree apple Caraboa….I was only thinking of this drink just the other day. Yesterday I finished The Night Manager on Amazon. I liked it a lot but, also, expected much, much more from it consdiering the hype. Hugh Laurie has come a long way from comedy sketches with Stephen Fry!

Day 57:Received an email from Sueanne yesterday asking ( as designated spokesperson for everyone) how I am. The most interestring piece of news in a rather uninformative email was that the US has started to open resorts!

Day 58: I am writing this on Day 59. I started a two walk a day regime. The first walk I do is shorter, around 4km. my aim is to be ready for 1,000,000 steps Diabetic UK challenge (throughout July, August and September). I need to do just under 11,000 steps a day. The relaxation in ld rules makes this achievable. On that score, I am allowed to visit a friend’s house, as long as it’s just the two of us, outside, 2m apart. I went round Karen’s last night. I was desperate to have a Happy Hour (I allow myself a midweek beer - today (well, yesterday) is/was Wednesday!) of sorts with another human (rather than a video chat). I was there for about 2 hours, very enjoyable, and then came home. Then I had usual roasted veg with rice and sausages but I couldn’t eat it. I used half a scotch bonnet rather than the usual birdeye chillis. It was too hot, had to sling it! Had a few more beers and, hence, neglected my diary duties!

Day 59: It’s 01:20am. I don’t know why I am still awake and up, but I am. But, also, I am now going to bed. Nothing else to report, really.

Day 60: Half way through 12 weeks furlough. I was discussing this with Dad and Rita earlier - I am expecting that, at the end of 12 weeks, I’ll be laid off. I hope I’m wrong but I reckon it’s well on the cards. Off to have a beer round Karen’s in a sec which will be pleasant. Just a hour or so. It’s fucking windy today so I shall wrap up!

[goingsllightlymad]

Natsby - picnic

By the early afternoon the rain had let up at last. A wan April sun shone through the straggling clouds which drifted between the turrets of the vast stone mansion. In the tangle of undergrowth below, a bedraggled man stood behind his kitchen window, staring out at the glossy green leaves and the last few raindrops as they dripped rhythmically onto the window panes. Nick Carroway drummed his fingers absently on the rim of his chipped mug, sipping and wincing immediately at the scalding coffee inside. It was one of those days when all was blissfully still, an island of peace among the churning sea of the busy West Egg.

The stuttering purr of a car engine cut through the silence as it skidded around the small curve of his driveway. Sunlight glinted off the canary-yellow bonnet and Nick shielded his eyes, muttering under his breath about choosing a normal goddamn car colour.

"Beautiful day isn't it, old sport!" from the front seat of the car a man stepped out, dressed in a pale pink suit and glowing with youthful joy. Despite himself, Nick could not stifle a small smile at this incredible man and his ridiculous car, who always seemed to turn up without reason and without warning. Still in his worn green robe, Nick did not feel self-conscious in the slightest; Gatsby was by now long used to seeing Nick in this tired and dishevelled state, turning up to his house in ungodly hours such as this.

"I have no idea what you mean! It's been raining all day!" Nick called back, making his way over to stand in the doorway.

"Yes, but now it's not and I think the day's going to be quite glorious, don't you, old sport?"

"I swear you're always too optimistic, Gatsby," Nick shook his head in disbelief, smiling, "it could be raining fire and you'd still say it was a beautiful day."

"I don't know what you mean! Get dressed, let's go out!"

"Where?"

"I have no idea! I've had the men bring food, let's go for a picnic."

"Gatsby we live in the city."

"Ah, there are places!"

Nick laughed, shaking his head, "I'll be out in a second."

With that he turned and closed the door behind him. Once alone in his bedroom, he threw on a shirt and some trousers, and smoothed down his dark hair. Reaching for a pullover that was hanging on the window-frame, he could see Gatsby leaning against the edge of his car, grinning like a lunatic, or some addict chasing his next fix. In the soft golden light of the early afternoon, he looked strangely beautiful, his eyes a sparkling blue and his hair split with streaks of spun gold. When Nick stepped out onto his porch again, he looked up, seeming for a second lost for words as he took in Nick. Lost in a way that Nick knew was impossible, for Gatsby had never seemed quite whole since Daisy left him to die. Gatsby's recovery had been miraculous, yet Nick knew that he had never quite recovered fully, and there was only her to blame.

"Right, well, shall we old sport?" Gatsby stumbled over his words, climbing quickly back into the drivers seat of the car and slamming the door a little to hard behind him. Nick's urge to laugh was suppressed only by the knowledge that it would wound Gatsby irrevocably, and also by the horrifying realisation that Gatsby would be driving the car. Suddenly Nick wished he had offered to hold the picnic somewhere close enough to walk to.

As the car sped away, down the drive and into the wide roads which followed closely the line of the water, Nick held tight onto his hat and prayed silently, the car swerving precariously.

"You know, I heard from Jordan that you have you two are going for lunch later this week," Gatsby said suddenly, eyes darting over as if to take in Nick's reaction. Startled, Nick could only laugh weakly, incredulous at Gatsby's being oblivious to the fact that Nick was completely and utterly infatuated with him. It had seemed as though everyone knew, but how typically Gatsby it was that he had no idea.

"N-no, no that's not true at all,"

"You don't sound so sure, old sport!" Gatsby's laughter was uncomfortable, forced.

"No really, we aren't,"

"Well you know I'd think that was fantastic. You know, you and Jordan... Jordan and you..."

"Gatsby."

"...Yes?"

"There's a park over there that looks nice?" Desperate to lead Gatsby away from a disastrous conversation, Nick pointed vaguely to his left, hoping that there would actually be a park where he was pointing. To his great luck there was, and as Gatsby started back to consciousness he breathed out shakily in relief.

"Yes, yes, a picnic." somehow Gatsby's appalling driving seemed to have descended into a death-wish, and as they spun haphazardly into the driveway beside the park, Nick was certain he'd kill them both. Scrambling out of the car as soon as they had parked, Nick busied himself with picking up the blanket and the enormous basket of food.

Walking beside Gatsby once more, they made their way across the park to the edge, where the shade of a vast willow tree had kept a patch of grass dry. Nick spread out the blanket, and the two sat in silence. There was an unmistakable tension between them - there had been since Gatsby had mentioned Jordan. In his mind it was so clear, so certain, that Nick had feelings for Jordan that he could never feel for him. Nick wasn't like that - how could he be, he was a model of perfection, everything that Gatsby was not. He was as straight as a man should be, and that was all that Gatsby was afraid of.

And yet as the two sat under the canopy of pale green leaves, leg crossed and brushing against the paint-blotch daisies which curled around the edges of the blanket, Gatsby could not help but hope. The soft sunlight splintered through the leaves, painting pale golden brushstrokes across Nick's face and dancing in his warm brown eyes. As Nick looked up and caught him staring, a faint blush tinted his cheeks. Flustered, Gatsby awkwardly rearranged himself until he was lying on the blanket, staring up at the thin clouds as they appeared and disappeared between the breaks in the branches overhead. Amused and confused, Nick copied him, lying close enough for their shoulders to brush against each other and for Gatsby to be able to feel his languid breathing.

"Nick,"

"Gatsby."

"What... what are we doing?"

Nick laughed quietly, turning his head to look into Gatsby's deep blue eyes. The eyes that Daisy had fallen in love with, and in moments like this it wasn't difficult to see why. He was lost, captivated in the swirling depths of two blue pools and the universe of decadence inside.

"I have no idea."

"Oh. Good, good..." Gatsby trailed off, eyes still fixated on the sky above them, as though trying no to meet Nick's eyes, "I mean, I'm sure you'd really rather be here with Jordan though, eh old sport?"

"Oh my god Gatsby," Nick reached up a hand to rub his forehead exasperatedly and Gatsby frowned uncertainly, "you really do have no idea, do you."

"...No? Am I missing something, old sport?"

"Gatsby I'm fucking in love with you."

"O-Oh, I thought other than that. Which I knew. For a long time. Definitely." Gatsby stuttered helplessly, cheeks flushed a deep scarlet which merged with the pale pink cuff of his suit jacket as he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"You really are an awful liar, aren't you," Nick snorted inelegantly, and Gatsby laughed a little despite himself.

"Hey, I'll have you know my entire reputation is built on lies!"

"Gatsby you can't just yell that in a public place, you ass! People can hear you!"

"People can always hear me, old sport, it's just something I have learned to accept. Sometimes it feels like nothing I ever do is for me alone." Gatsby's smile grew distant and wistful, as though thinking very deeply about something he could not place.

"I could think of something."

Nick leaned in, eyes closed, and closed the gaps between them. Behind Gatsby's eyelids was a masterpiece of blue and green and pink, the smell of the wet grass and of Nick's cheap cologne, the dazzling sunlight of the afternoon. And he knew that people could see them, and he knew that they should stop, but every cell in his body was aching to never let go, because Nick was all he knew, and all he ever needed. His heart was burning, but his heart was whole, for in that moment there was no Daisy Buchanan in all of the world. No hurt, no sadness, the last year had been some fevered nightmare and now he was awake and the world was bright and the world was good. The world was pure, for they were in it, and they were just two men beneath a willow tree, and they were very much in love, weren't they?

[mollyraesly]

Time with Wolves -- Chapter 5

It was disappointing not to spend time with Jon over the holiday weekend, but Sansa was so exhausted by Friday night that she fell asleep on the couch before the normal time they would have left for the reservation. She’d been busy all week studying for a math exam, helping to clean the house, sewing bonnets for the upcoming school play, and being her mom’s sous chef for Thanksgiving meal preparations that her body had just quit on her.

Together, they made enough food for twenty: the seven of the immediate family, her uncles Benjen and Edmure, her cousin Robin, aunt Lysa and creepy step-uncle Petyr, grandfather Hoster, great aunt Nan, second cousins Lyanna and Hodor, and their family friends Luwin, Yohn, Rodrik, and Jory. Her mom handled the turkey, stuffing, yams, and gravy. Sansa was in charge of the cranberry sauce, greenbean casserole, and mashed potatoes. Plus she baked all the pies (six different variations this year: pumpkin, cherry, apple, chocolate crème, bourbon-pecan, and pear crumb) and chopped all the onions and celery for her mom to make things easier. She would have liked to sleep for days after all the dishes were washed and put away, but she didn’t want to miss all the early-morning Black Friday sales. She forced Robb to drive her to the mall the next morning at five. She got half the presents she needed for Christmas just from the outdoor sporting goods store, a fantastic set of cutting shears, half-priced antique lace, and more thread at the craft store, expensive shampoo and conditioner at 60 percent off, and a pair of pale pink kitten heels from Anthropologie she just couldn’t walk away from. Robb, in turn, got a girl’s number, and free breakfast on Sansa, so he wasn’t as crabby on the way home as he’d been on the way there. Still, even a sleepy Sansa was a thinking-about-Jon Sansa.  Jon’s birthday was in less than three weeks, just a few days before Christmas, and Sansa had been stressing out about what to get him. She’d never given a boy she wasn’t related to a proper present before. She wanted to make him something, as she always thought handmade gifts were the most personal and meaningful. But she wasn’t sure what it should be. Eventually, she realized that Jon didn’t have a heavy enough winter jacket, particularly if he was going to be going even further north to the army base. Sansa was being genuine when she told Jon she thought he’d make a great soldier, but she was worried. The men who were stationed at Castle Black always looked so broken when they came back home—if they came back home. Sansa didn’t want to tell Jon not to go, not if being a soldier was his dream. But she did want him to take care and stay warm.

 So she went with Margaery to the fancy vintage shops and found a lovely black leather jacket that looked like it would fit him—only she lied and told Margaery it was for her brother. Sansa ripped out the seams inside and gave it a whole new lining so that way it would have better insulation. She polished the leather and made sure all the buckles shone. Along the collar and the cuffs, she added little wolves, stitched in black. They weren’t noticeable, unless you looked closely, but Sansa wanted the jacket to remind him of the reservation—of Ghost, of the North, of home—of her. It was silly, and she strained her eyes trying to make out the black thread patterns on black fabric. But she was determined that the wolves would be there and that the stitching would get done on time. In addition to all the usual scarves and gloves she knitted at this time of year. She made some for Jon and his mom, as well, with snowflakes on them. When the week of Jon’s birthday finally came, she met him in the driveway with her arms full of gift bags and a case of nerves. “What’s that?” Jon asked as he took the bags from her so she could get into the car. “These are heavy. Are you playing Sansa Claus tonight?” Sansa normally would have rolled her eyes at the tired nickname, but she was too keyed up. “It’s for you. For your birthday. And well, there’s Christmas stuff too—for you and your mom—and something for Mr. Mormont and Ghost, of course.” Jon looked down at the bags. “You got me a birthday present?” he asked, sounding stunned. “Well, it’s a big one, eighteen, and all. And friends give each other birthday presents and we’re...friends, right?” Jon gazed at her with his gentle gray eyes. “Of course.” He handed her the bags back and then hopped into his side of the car. “Should I open it now? Or do you want me to wait?” “Wait,” Sansa told him. She didn’t want it to happen in her driveway, where any member of her family could interrupt them. “Till we get to the reservation.” “Okay.” Jon turned on the radio and pulled out of the Stark driveway. “Can I guess what it is?” Sansa laughed at his enthusiasm, like a little boy on Christmas morning. She’d never seen Jon so giddy. “You can, but I don’t think you’ll guess it.” “Is it smaller than a bread box?” he asked.

“What kind of bread?”

“Pumpernickel.”

Sansa laughed, and Jon kept her laughing until they arrived. When he finally put the car in park, he turned to her. “Please. The suspense is killing me.” Sansa sighed with feigned annoyance but then grinned. “Okay, open this first.” She handed him one of the bags.  Jon smiled as he peeked his head inside. “Cookies.”  “The first box is for you and your mom, a collection of various Christmas staples: sugar, chocolate chip, M&M, peanut butter, pecan snowballs, jam thumbprints. The other is just for you. They’re gingersnaps.” “My favorite,” said Jon with a smile. “Your favorite,” Sansa agreed. She handed him another bag. “These are for Christmas.” “Shouldn’t we do Christmas after birthday, since that’s the chronological order?” “No,” Sansa replied decisively. “Gifts should always be ordered by how good they are.” “Well, then you’ve already screwed up, because your cookies are better than anything.” “Shush, open this.” Jon dutifully opened the bag and took out the scarves and mittens she’d knitted.  “They’re for you and your mom.” “They have little snowflakes on them.” “Yeah, cause you’re the Snows. Is that silly?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.  “No, it’s perfect. My mom will love them. I can’t wait to show her.” Her smile returned. “Okay, and here’s the last thing. For your birthday. I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I ended up making something—not from complete scratch—but, well, you’ll see—and if you don’t like it—" “Of course I’ll like it—“ “But if you don’t—" Jon brought his finger to her lips and stunned her into silence. “Why don’t I open it, hmm? Before you decide I must not like it?” Sansa nodded, frozen by the feeling of his skin on her lips.  Jon removed his hand and moved his attention to the gift bag in front of him. He took his care removing the tissue paper and pulling the jacket out of the bag. He raised it up to his eyes, his mouth agape. “What? You—you made this?” Sansa blushed. “I retailored it. It’s vintage but in really good condition. I redid the whole lining to make it warmer—you know, for when you go up north. Cause I noticed your coat isn’t that warm. There’s little wolf decorations on the collar and the cuffs. They’re in black so they’re not too noticeable. Do you like it?” “I love it.” Jon slipped off his jacket and pulled the new one on. It fit well in the shoulders, just as Sansa hoped it would, with a little extra room for him to grow. He inspected the details on the cuffs. “I like the wolf bits. They look like Ghost!” “That’s what I was going for.” “Thank you, Sansa. Honestly, no one has given me a gift as nice as this before. I’m going to wear this all winter. Maybe even in the summers too.” She laughed. “You’ll die of heat.” “It’ll be worth it.” He cradled her face in his hands as his mouth swooped down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “Really, Sansa, thank you,” he whispered softly to her. “You’re welcome,” she breathed back. Job pulled away, running a hand through his curls and giving Sansa a chance to admire how well the jacket fit him. “I, uh, got you something too.” “What? Why? It’s not my birthday.” “But it is Christmas—and I probably won’t see you again—alone at least—til after.” Sansa smiled, her heart already full just from the idea he thought to get her something.  “It’s not wrapped up fancy like yours were. I didn’t know we’d be exchanging gifts tonight.” “That’s all right.” “They’re in the glove compartment.” “They’re?” “Yeah,” murmured Jon, his ears going red. “There’s two things.” “You didn’t have to—“ Jon leaned over and opened the glove compartment. He tossed a brown paper bag into her lap. “And you didn’t have to either, and look at this jacket. It’s amazing—you’re amazing.” He gave her a smile. “C’mon, Sansa, just open it.” She took her time smoothing out the bag’s creases and reaching inside. First, she found a piece of plastic and pulled it out. It was a CD case.  “It’s a mixtape—of the songs we listen to in the car. Mostly the Cure—but there’s a few others in there. The ones you tend to mouth the words to.” Sansa flipped the cd case over to see Jon’s messy handwriting; he’d listed the songs he’d included along with the artists’ names. “You made me a mixtape?” she asked incredulously. “Is it lame?” She shook her head, feeling slightly overwhelmed by how adorable the gift was—how adorable Jon was. “No—the opposite. It’s so sweet. I love it. Thank you.” Jon smiled, the anxiety leaving his eyes. “You’re welcome. There’s one more.” Sansa reached into the paper bag again. Her fingers felt plastic with something sharp but smooth underneath. Curious, she pulled it out. She found various crystal beads in blues, grays, white, purple, and green. “They’re beads,” Jon explained.  “They’re gorgeous.” “I thought you might be able to make something out of them—not for anyone else this time, but for you. See the gray ones? They reminded me of the color of Lady’s fur.” Tears collected in her eyes. She reached over and hugged him, flinging her arms around his neck, fingers just brushing against his curls, her nose going straight to his neck. “Thank you, Jon.” She felt Jon’s hands tentatively move to her back, getting tangled up in her long hair. “You’re welcome, Sansa,” he whispered with his cheek resting against the top of her head.

She wished the hug had lasted longer, but they needed to get into the reservation before it closed to see Ghost. Mr. Mormont appreciated that scarf Sansa had knitted him, and Ghost seemed to tolerate the red and green bandana she made to go around his neck.  She asked Mr. Mormont to take a picture of her, Jon, and Ghost. And the bandana stayed on for only a few minutes more. Luckily, Ghost seemed to enjoy the moose-flavored treats Sansa made him more. When they were back in the car, Jon asked to see the photo. They were crouched down, both hugging Ghost. Sansa was laughing as Ghost sniffed at her hat, and Jon, in his new leather jacket, was smiling softly at them both.  “Could you send that to me?” “Of course.” Sansa had Jon’s number—had had it for years— but they rarely texted. hated the acronyms, bad grammar, and stiltedness of talking through texts—or worse, through emojis. Once, a boy from school had sent her a “u up” text, followed by several pictures of his dick, and Sansa was appalled. Where was romance? Where was common decency? Sansa knew Jon would never send her anything so crass, but she preferred phone calls or handwritten letters to texts.

And, moreover, she had a general rule of not contacting Jon too much throughout the week, lest she be too much of a bother to him. “I’d really like to spend more time together tonight, but I promised my mom I’d get home. She wants to go get a tree tonight before all the good ones are gone.” “That’s fine,” said Sansa, doing her best to hide her disappointment. “But maybe—next rime—would you like to go to the diner?” “Sure! Their takeout is always quick.” “No, I mean inside—dinner in a restaurant, not a parking lot—would you like that?” “Yes.” Jon grinned. “Great. So next time—dinner.” 

Sansa beamed. “Next time—dinner,” she repeated.

[marhabhaonlineshop]

6 Tactics To Make Shopping For Kids Easy

Let’s be honest, how many of us here find it overwhelming to buy clothes for kids? I know I do! From finding an outfit that looks cute and trendy to ensuring that it doesn’t irritate the kid’s skin (or their temperament), there are many factors to consider. Now, if it’s a gift, then it’s not just the kids you have to impress; it’s also the parents. The pressure is real with this one, you guys! But as always, we’ll be going through some tips and tricks that will help you get through this. Let get right on to it, shall we?

Meet in the Middle

It is no secret that kids live in a different world than us. They are filled with imagination, creativity, and unconventional thoughts. This might obviously reflect in the everyday things they do, such as clothing. They would want to break all the rules by mixing and matching anything and everything. But as adults, we might see problems with it such as, probably the clothes they want to wear might not be weather appropriate, or even occasion appropriate. So what do we do here? We do not want to dampen their spirits, but neither do we want to dress them up in something inappropriate. Here’s where you compromise, maybe choose outfits that have similar colour or patterns as the one the kids like but in a more appropriate fabric. Or assure them that the clothes they like can be bought for a different occasion. Communication is critical, guys.

Don’t fall prey to Highly Gender Focused clothing

I’m sure by now everyone must have noticed how gendered the clothes are for kids. When you turn to the boys’ section, it’s filled with action heroes, dinosaurs, or sports related outfits. Their colours also tend to be somewhat sombre, like blue, green, or brown. It is the polar opposite with the girls, princesses, butterflies, rainbows, and flowers in pink, orange, and yellow. In this day and age, we know better than to enforce such stereotypical clothing styles. So keeping in tangent with the previous point, let your kids wear what they want. Your boy wants to wear a pink outfit with flowers, then why not? Moreover, it is also advisable to purchase more unisex clothing with neutral colours that can be repurposed for different occasions and can be handed down to others.

Try keeping it Low-Key for Special Occasions

Kids grow at a very fast rate. This is something to keep in mind whenever purchasing clothes. Holiday seasons such as Halloween, Christmas or Easter, might tempt parents to buy very themed outfits for their kids. Now, if you want to strategic, I would advise you against it. I know this is a little controversial, but let me explain. As mentioned, kids tend to outgrow their clothes quickly, so the Christmas sweater or the bunny onesie you bought this year might not fit them the next year around. When outfits are very theme-specific, it would be harder to repeat them some other time. But of course, we don’t want to spoil the spirits of the celebration. Instead, opt for outfits that are not specific to the occasion but maybe give the nod to it. For instance, consider a pastel-coloured or spring-themed clothing for easter, sweaters in the Christmas colours, etc. You can then accessorise them with bunny ears, reindeer ears, or whatever the occasion calls for. This will also make it easier to hand down clothes.

Accept Hand-Me-Downs and Hand Down Yours too

As mentioned in the previous two points, I love a good hand me down deal. Thrifting is also a good option, but I have my concerns with that. But hand me downs are fantastic for kids in the same family or even your close friends. At the rate that children grow, they don’t usually get to wear all those cute outfits a lot, and unlike us adults, they don’t do a lot in them. So most of their clothes remain almost as good as the day you bought them. So what do you do with these clothes? Donating is observably the most common option. But if you are anything like my mom or hers, you would keep them for any kids you’re planning to have in the future or give it to friends and family with kids around the same age. This is great as you get clothes in good condition, from the people you know, for free! Some points that could help the process are considering gender-neutral clothing, more basic pieces, and non-season specific outfits. Remember, you can always accessorise to personalise the looks.

Pay Attention to Details

Two of the main things that I look out for when purchasing kids’ clothes are the size and fabric. After all, you don’t want to put them in clothes that they will outgrow fast or in materials that will irritate their sensitive skin. Likewise, it is also essential to ensure the quality of tiny details in the garments. This would include checking if the elements such as buttons are correctly fastened. You don’t want them to be poorly stitched since small things could pose a choking hazard for tiny kids. Also, be mindful when purchasing complicated designs with long strings or fringes since they could pose a threat of strangulation. Another critical factor to check would be the seams since you want to ensure the highest quality clothing for your little ones. Give the clothes a gentle tug at the seams to ensure that while they give room for some growth, they won’t come undone after a few wears.

Shop Online

If you have gone shopping with kids in malls, you know how tiring it can be! They get distracted, hungry, thirsty, sleepy, and overwhelmed really quick. While it is imperative that they experience these things to adjust to it, you might sometimes be too tired to handle it. Well lucky for you, everything is online now. You can easily purchase items from your favourite stores online when you feel drained but have to shop for your kids for an upcoming event. There are so many other benefits of shopping online. However, the major drawback has to be that you cannot check the items yourself before buying. So make sure to check the product descriptions and reviews for better results.

Visit Marhabha if you are looking for online shopping for babies in UAE, dresses for kids, boys’ shirts online, or kids’ shoes online. We are one of the top online shopping for kids in the region. As an online shopping store located in the UAE, our main aim is to provide the customers with accessibility to authentic imported brands that are not readily available in the UAE. Additionally, we also produce products consisting predominantly of high-quality leather goods sourced from India, under the brand name of Uxurious. Although we have the option of cash on delivery in the UAE, we provide a 25% discount when you purchase by card. Also, there is free shipping across the UAE without any limit on the minimum amount spent.

Information Sources:

https://www.moneycrashers.com/ways-save-cheap-kids-clothes/

https://www.wikihow.com/Buy-Clothes-for-Children

https://sonshinemagazine.com/magazine/our-top-ten-shopping-for-kids-clothes-tips

Picture Sources:

All pictures were taken from Google Images. I’ve tried my best to find the original source and link them below.

https://www.mommyshorts.com/2016/06/24-fashion-trends-invented-by-adorably-mismatched-little-girls.html

https://slickdeals.net/article/buying-guide/shopping-guide-for-kids-clothes/

https://littlelizardking.com/products/avignon-bonnet-and-baby-versailles-2-pattern-bundle

http://kiddley.com/2006/05/27/dressing-your-child-on-a-budget-part-one-hand-me-downs/

https://www.walmart.ca/en/ip/Favorite-Findings-Big-Bag-Of-Buttons-Multicolor-4oz/PRD2V94AZWNM5C5

https://www.wsj.com/articles/online-shopping-how-to-beat-the-system-11564164888

[lesmiserablesfashions]

*runs in quickly* *throws $5 and a coupon for cat food* Headwear. Male and female! Please and thank you! *runs away*

Also, sorry for asking about things a third day in a row! It will all make sense eventually! Or not! I don't really know at this point in time yet. But it probably will!

lol that’s the writer’s curse, isn’t it? sorry this took while btw, i had/have some real world obligations so i just left the blog alone to run on the queue for a while.

so headwear! i’m assuming 1830s again here, let me know if i’m wrong. headwear for both men and women in this era were designed specifically to accommodate the ever more complicated hairstyles -- for men, most often curled deep side parts, though hair curled straight up was also an option. for ladies, it was incredibly complex things with big ol curls on either side of the face and massive apollo loops, topknots, and braided bun-like things. headwear thus had to have ample room for all this nonsense.

for men, the hat of choice was generally the top hat. in this era the brims were a bit curved, and the crowns just slightly. they were black, with thin black ribbons on which a bow was optional. most often they were silk, but a few fur ones can also be found. rarely, you might also find some straw ones for summer, but i can’t find any nice 1830s non-american examples rn

pic dump:

first from 1830, next two from unspecified 1830s, final two from 1834. there are a few more pics of top hats in the answer about men’s mourning clothes.

caps were also a thing, generally reserved for young boys, riding outfits, and the working class. it’s very, very difficult to find extant working class garments, since they’re not something anyone would generally want to preserve that badly.

riding cap:

for working class & boys’ caps, you can pick out a good number in liberty leading the people, since that was painted in 1830:

women’s headwear was more diverse. get a load of the range here:

^ all french from 1830

bonnets were typical streetwear. they were massive fantastic monstrosities with very wide brims and many many adorments of ribbon, lace, frills, and flowers. they were generally silk or straw. pics:

first and second images french, the others unspecified european. first from 1830-1835, next two 1830, final from some unspecified time in the 1830s.

calèches were another very interesthing thing! not nearly as ubiquitous as bonnets, but fascinating and worth mentioning nonetheless. they had a more spherical shape than bonnets, giving more room for the hair. they were collapsible, too! basically, they’d guard the hairstyle from wind or rain if the weather turned sour, and could be collapsed once you wanted to show off your hair again. here’s one from 1830:

they’re silly looking, but fun!

for daywear inside the house, or underneath the bonnet, a woman might wear a cap. these were often associated more with older women than anyone else, though. they were either linen or cotton, and could be decorated with frills, ribbons, lace, etc. pics:

first i don’t have the time to track down the country of origin, but the next two are french. they’re from 1830, sometime in the 1830s, and sometime in the mid-19th century, respectively.

less commonly, there were things like berets and turbans for eveningwear (neither of these looking much like what we picture in our heads when we hear those words). one example of a turban is up in the first ladies’ fashion plate i posted -- that massive pink feathered thing on the right. by a fun coincidence, we’ve also got a massive pink feathered beret! check the top of the third fashion plate. a few other examples:

french turbans from sometime in the ‘30s, and 1837 specifically (sorry it’s some years past what we want)

some berets from 1830, 1834, and sometime in the ‘30s. second and third are french.

so unless you want me to get into the specifics of riding headwear too, which i’m sorry to say i don’t have much time for right now (and i believe you’ve waited long enough for this answer lol), that’s what i’ve got. you can check my headwear tag for more things if you’d like

[thesiteofstyle]

ALEXA SANTORY 

The Site of Style’s Editor in Chief shares her curly hair secrets, bomb beauty products, and how not to fall victim to fast fashion.

“My name’s Alexa (@iconicsoul__) , I’m 23 and I was born and raised in New York City. Let me start this interview by saying that I'm so grateful for each and every one of the readers on the site. I came to Kara with the idea for this series while going through a lot in my personal life and it's been a dream come true for me to work on this and have it be everything I envisioned and more. I love talking about beauty and I love to hear others talk about it, too. Thank you for giving us the space to do so. Growing up in New York has taught me everything I know about about fashion and beauty and how to appreciate it. There’s a lot to look at and take in in New York; you’re always getting inspiration from somewhere. I like to think I’ve mastered the ubiquitous beauty routine. It’s become a personal joy of mine to talk about and try different things with makeup and skincare. I’m wearing a face mask as I write this.

I’ve been lucky enough to have had pretty okay skin for most of my life. My mom really only dealt with adult acne and my dad has never had a pimple a day in his life, so thanks guys!! I personally deal with hormonal breakouts or stress breakouts, which I’ve (kind of) learned to control. I’m obsessed with Lush’s Coalface cleanser; I use it morning and night. Then I tone with Witch Hazel, followed by a nice layer of Neutrogena Hydro Boost Water Gel moisturizer. If I’m wearing makeup, I apply a thin layer of Priming Moisturizer Rich as a primer. It looks really beautiful under makeup. I tone with Pixi Glow Tonic at night maybe twice a week, to help fade scarring and to brighten my complexion. It has glycolic acid, which is great for hyper pigmentation, anti-aging, and brightening overall. It burns a little, but I kinda like it. I use the Hydro Boost serum for extra hydration (lots of hyaluronic acid; good for keeping your skin supple), then a thick sexy layer of Priming Moisturizer Rich. It’s everything. I love the Mask of Magnaminty from Lush, and Catastrophe Cosmetic. I’ve tried just about every sheet mask from The Face Shop; their “Solution” line is crazy. I have keratosis pilaris on my arms (aka KP, aka chicken skin; it’s not as serious as it sounds) so I’ve been using Lush’s Buffy bar. It’s a game changer. Palmer’s Cocoa Butter is and forever will be the only body lotion that matters to me.

Doing my makeup is almost as therapeutic as my skin routine. Even though it’s simple, I take it very seriously. I try to only do it in natural light because it’s the most realistic. I want to look as natural as possible, but still kind of extra. I start by mixing Glossier’s Perfecting Skin Tint in dark and deep, because that’s my actual skin tone but I live in a place with real weather. Then, I put a little Stretch Concealer under my eyes. Just a little, though, because trying to hide my dark circles is futile at this point so I’ve accepted them. They’re kind of sexy in a bedroom-y sort of way. I always wear a ton of mascara; I like gaudy lashes, what can I say? Better Than Sex is my go to, but I’m using Tarteist Lash Paint right now. I used to do eyeliner everyday; I love blue eyeliner because it enhances brown eyes really nicely. I use Boy Brow on my eyebrows. I don’t let anyone touch my eyebrows ever; I don’t even touch them that often. Their natural shape is perfect to me. Pink or coral blushes are my go to, like the Pixi Multi Balm or Cloud Paint. I love Colourpop highlighters; the formula is buttery and the pigment is really intense for only $8. Forget Me Not and Butterfly Beach are my two favorite shades. I'll put a little on my finger then spray my Pixi Glow Mist setting spray on it, then pop it on my cheekbones. It makes the highlight blinding. I never wore lipstick until college, which was where I tried my first dark lip, and I haven’t looked back since. I’ll try any color once, though; I wore purple lipstick (like purple purple) to a Beyonce concert (love you, Bey). Again, Colourpop because their lipsticks are fantastic too and also very inexpensive. Their greatest hits for me are: Love Bug, Toolips, Lost, and Stingraye (RIP). Cruella by Nars is my favorite red. I pretend to know a lot about makeup, but in reality, I know jack sh*t but fake it till you make it, right? Contouring, baking, all that, it’s a higher art form I don’t really have the patience for but I still admire watching others do it. That’s why I like to keep it as simple as possible and only wear eye shadow once a year.

My hair is, to put it lightly, a lot of f*cking work. I have a mass of curly hair that does what it wants when it wants. I’ve been doing braid outs since the beginning of summer and it’s honestly been a game changer. My hair has grown immensely, especially now after the haircut I gave myself. That and I’ve FINALLY found products that really work. I wash with Organix Extra Strength Argan Oil conditioner. Sulfate free shampoo and conditioner is so important, especially for curly hair. And because of my hair’s texture, it has the tendency to look and feel very dry, so I don’t want to use products that strip the oils away. I dry my hair with a cotton t-shirt to reduce frizz and then apply Organix Penetrating Argan Oil to my ends. I follow with a nice, even coating (code for: a sh*t ton) of Shea Moisture Curl and Style Milk, then Curl Enhancing Smoothie, then I braid it. Deep conditioning is essential; their Jamaican Black Castor Oil masque has changed my hair for the better, as well as the serum. For slicked back styles, I use the Raw Shea Butter conditioner as a leave-in, some Queen Helene styling gel, a very old hairbrush that will forever be in my possession, and a lot of hope. When I straighten it, I make sure to deep condition before, because if I’m going to burn it between two extremely hot metal plates, I might as well give it some tender love and care first. I use L’Oreal Straightening Balm that acts as a heat protector and it also smells like candy, which is nice. My flat iron was all hype, but it’s by Remington. Once it’s straight, I wrap it into two low buns, put on a headband, and MOST IMPORTANTLY sleep with a satin bonnet. It lasts about 4 days.

CLOTHES!! Aw man, I love shopping, I always have; my grandma and I used to spend hours in Lord and Taylor and Macy’s and Century 21 when I was a kid. My family always let me take the lead on picking the clothes I want, which has definitely helped cultivate my champagne tastes on beer budgets. I’m sooooo picky when it comes to my clothes. I love anything easy, minimal, kind of lazy but still put together. When I shop, before I spend my money on anything, I always ask myself “will I see something like this on the rack next year? What about 5, 10 years from now?” If the answer is yes, I'll buy it. Fast fashion has sort of become this vortex of really corny fads, but if you look hard enough, you can find gems that can be timeless. I shop at Zara, H&M, and Uniqlo the most. Uniqlo’s jeans are the best jeans for me. I don’t wear a lot of color. That’s not to say I don’t like color, it’s just not what I gravitate towards. I’m very appreciative of the timelessness and simplicity of the t-shirt and jeans; so simple, yet so much can be done with it. It’s my uniform. High waisted anything is for me, especially jeans, and especially ones that hug my curves perfectly. Florals and stripes are the only patterns I really f*ck with. Give me ankle boots over any other type of shoe, or give me death tbh. I’m a shoe snob; I feel like Cher from Clueless when she says how picky she is about her shoes even though they only go on her feet. I’m a bag snob, too, unfortunately. I get it from my mom. Lately, I’ve been carrying a classic Coach backpack. My aunt gave it to my mom as a gift years ago, and now my mom has given it to me. I wrapped a vintage scarf from Spain around the top handle to add a personal touch.

My everyday jewelry is essential to my personal style; I feel naked if I go out without it. I wear: 5 rings (friendship knot, mermaid, arrow, snake, number 3), a Miansai screw cuff, a pastel stone bracelet (thanks Allyson!!!), a mal de ojo and red string (both blessed and given to me by my superstitious Cuban grandmother), a watch, earrings, and two necklaces. I mix gold and silver because I don’t follow the rules.

My Dolce Vita ankle boots from Urban that I found on a fluke visit. Kind of metallic, very pointy, just perfect.

I have a 100% silk robe my aunt bought in Hong Kong. It has a dragon embroidered on the back and two smaller dragons on the front. I wear it while I get ready; it makes me feel fucking fabulous.

Having a signature scent is very important; you don’t want to smell like everyone else. I’m hesitant to name the exact scent I wear, but it’s by Nest. It’s woody but floral, sweet but a little spicy. Overall very, very sexy. No one wears it like me.”

Alexa Santory interviewed by The Site of Style

[buildingshitwithcrab]

Seeing someone else post about a larger doll they’re trying to restore made me think that “hey! that looks just like the one I found a while back!”. But then, the more I looked at it, the more it looked similar, but not the same. Nevertheless, it made me realize that I’d forgotten what little research I’d managed, so a post here seems sensible. Plus, I don’t have to be an unsolicited, butting-in know-it-all on their post, when it’s not even the same doll.

It was hell, trying to ID the doll on the left. She has no markings, whatsoever. Unless they’re inside of her head, like some Barbies, but I’m not going to risk breaking her to find out. The only marking I could find was on the one faded pink rubber Mary Jane shoe she still had, which says “New York Doll Shoe Co., No. 3, Made in USA”. I did find ONE photo of this exact doll on google, along with a black-haired twin, but it went to an unanswered forum post from like 2012 that was only someone else asking for help in figuring out what they were. Not helpful.

The closest I could determine through google is that she’s most likely a 1960s Earle Pullan doll. I haven’t dug deep enough to confirm that, nor do I have any idea what that means about collectibility. She was a Goodwill outlet find, and there was nothing wrong with her beyond being dirty and nekkid, so she got rescued. I fear that things that don’t sell within a certain time at the outlet get throw away--because if wine glasses aren’t selling at 5 cents each, they’re never going to sell at all--so when toys this old show up, I ain’t leaving them behind.

In case anyone else is looking for a possible ID: she’s supposed to have a “walking” feature, but mine isn’t very rhythmic with it. She has rivets/bolts that stick out of her hips about 1/4″; it’s a rod that can shift a little back and forth, and that I assume attaches her legs to the walking parts inside. Her hair looks soft and fluffy, but it’s pretty coarse. I haven’t tried to boil-condition it, and only washed and rinse-conditioned when I cleaned her. Her eyes do close when you lay her down. Her eyebrows are thin, small, and arched, and somehow directly behind the the tops of her glasses, so you can’t see them at all. She fits 18″ dolls dresses pretty well. I found some not-American-Girl shoes for $3 a pair at a Meijer store, and got her a pair of red western boots to go with this dress. The actual foot part fits pretty good on her, but I had to cut the backs all the way down to the sole to get her legs into them. The more basic sandals and flats they had should fit much better, but I don’t plan on re-dressing her much, so I haven’t gotten any others yet.

EDIT: With some google-fu assistance from @evil-robot-cat​, it appears that the doll almost certainly has an Ideal Miss Revlon head, but almost just as certainly has a Saucy Walker body. I... don’t know how these two elements combined. The Saucy Walker heads I’m seeing on pintrest--all that are dated say 1950s--have open mouths with two little buckteeth. But the mouth, face paint, and face shape look exactly like Miss Revlons. Only, I’m not seeing any Saucy Walkers with those heads. But the shoes and what remained of one sock look right. Why do I find the weird ones? I’ve got an early 70s Mattel Francie with a head and body combo that shouldn’t exist, too.

Further searching turns up a doll seller’s site, where the first Saucy Walker here (it may sell and be removed/replaced in the future,) has the right head and body combo, as well as the right shoes, socks, and haircut. The shoes have different markings, but look exactly the same. So, a Saucy Walker she be, but she is apparently a later or just unusual combination, as every other SW on pintrest and this seller’s site have the open smile. Very weird.

And just because: to the right is a ‘71 Ideal Crissy with ‘growing’ ponytail, found from the Valley Thrift Store, and barely in the shot on the left, with the green-dotted bonnet is a 1920s bootleg Hertwig Pet Name porcelain doll, marked ‘Helen’ (the details on her curls aren’t very sharp, which seems to indicate a recasting of a real one,) found from the indie thrift store down the street from me. SW was probably 90 cents by weight, Crissy was $5*, and Helen was I think $1 on a half-price day.

Between Crissy and SW, that’s two 60s Ideal dolls and oh no I need to be careful because one more and that’s ANOTHER collection.

*I normally wouldn’t pay that for a single thrifted doll of any size, short of an all-out mannequin, but probably 30 years ago, I was nosing around in the garage of my paternal grandparents’ house during a visit, and found a blonde Chrissy just like this, on a shelf. It was the only toy I’d ever seen in their house, and likely belonged to my much older and by-then young adult cousin, Tammy. Grandma let me take her home. That was likely one of the last visits I ever made to their house. Over years and moves, I lost that Crissy somewhere along the line. So, for sentimentality’s sake, $5 wasn’t bad for getting some version of her back, and once washed and combed, she’s in fantastic shape. Still game to get a blonde one with the green & yellow elephant romper again, if I ever find one, though.

[midlifechic]

A little while ago I mentioned that just before Christmas, I was invited to review the newly refurbished Pentonbridge Inn in Cumbria. I don’t know about you but I’m busy plotting things to look forward to – so I thought I’d give you the lowdown on why this place is worth a visit. It’s close to home for us but we’d travelled from one end of the country to the other because we arrived straight from spending two days in London celebrating my win at the Blog Awards. We were weary, feeling grimy and polluted after our urban partying and a country break was just what we needed.

Sweater dress (now in the sale); Boden boots circa 2005; Hope scarf (AW15)

Where is the Pentonbridge Inn?

It’s located bang on the border between England and Scotland, about 15 miles east of the M6 so it’s easy to get to. [custom-mapping map_id=”9642″ height=”300″]

What kind of place is it?

An old country inn that has been brought back to life by the owners of local Netherby Hall. It has been considerately refurbished using natural building materials and enhanced with tweed and velvet furnishings. The clientele seemed to be mostly well heeled locals. There were a lot of extended family groups, probably because it was Christmas, along with a few thirty-something couples.

Why would I go there?

For a complete rest. The inn is surrounded by countryside and you have a 360° view of both England and Scotland for miles around. As soon as we walked in, I felt relaxed. In fact all that I wanted to do for the rest of the afternoon was burrow down in one of the comfortable armchairs and do absolutely nothing at all…

What makes it special?

The focus at The Pentonbridge Inn is on the food. I had been told this by the PR agency beforehand and was expecting simple but good country style cooking. I was mistaken. The food is a few scales above anything I have experienced outside London. I say this seriously because we have both of Simon Rogan’s restaurants (L’Enclume and Rogan’s) on our doorstep. In my opinion, the food at The Pentonbridge Inn blows them out of the water.

Lunch

This isn’t a foodie blog but as you know, I do enjoy eating so I want to take you through what we was on offer. We started with lunch and here’s the menu to give you an idea of what was on offer:

I chose the cauliflower soup which was liken molten cauliflower cheese. It was smooth, rich, velvety… I don’t have the adjectives to describe how delicious it was. Mr MC’s meal in the foreground was the poached egg with mushrooms and ham. Also fantastic.

We knew we had some serious dining ahead in the evening so we skipped the next course and went straight on to puddings. I had the treacle tart which was the only thing that I felt was a bit sub par – it didn’t give me the tooth-crumblingly sweet hit of my childhood. Mr MC chose the local cheeses which were served with membrillo.

The rooms

We could have relaxed in the bar all afternoon but our cosy room was calling us…

… the box at the foot of the bed contained a Smart TV that popped up giving us the option to log straight back into the boxset we were watching on our Netflix account as well as other channels.

So Mr MC was happy. I was drawn by the bathroom and spent an hour wallowing in the bath, using some of the Scottish Noble Isle ‘fireside’ scented bath products…

…I was tempted to have a shower too – just because it was so beautiful!

There were lots of thoughtful details in the room such as a Roberts Radio playing Classic FM, a Nespresso machine with capsules and fresh milk and remote control skylights – a huge relief to me because I have to have fresh air to sleep well.

Dinner

So that was our lazy afternoon. We changed for dinner and went down for an apéritif in the bar which was now bustling. There are two options for dining, a relaxed menu in the bar or the choice of à la carte or tasting menus in the restaurant. We knew we were going to be served the tasting menu which always makes me a bit nervous. However they asked if we had any particular preferences so I was able to veer away from foods that I just can’t face such as game and offal.

Our table had a fabulous view of the chefs at work. It was interesting to see just how calm the kitchen was. It is run by husband and wife team Jake and Cassie White. They have an incredibly high pedigree having been trained by Marcus Wareing at ‘Marcus’, his two Michelin starred restaurant at The Berkeley in London.

The food went way beyond my expectations. This is what we ate:

Amuse bouche: cauliflower cassonade, lambs’ sweetbreads, crispy cerleriac

Starter 1: slow poached hen egg, quinoa and cep mushroom crumb, shitake soup, parsley oil, parsley and shallot salad and castel franco radicchio

Starter 2: pumpkin fondant, pumpkin velouté espuma, cows curd, kumquat, sliced pumpkin compressed with clementine and thyme

Starter 3: Orkney island scallop, dashi poached parsley root, walnut, pear

Main course (me): beef fillet, onion fondant, balsamic gel, barbecued leek, toasted cabbage, pickled red onion petals and onion seed, white onion sauce

Main course (Mr MC): Venison, celeriac, crisped and ribboned quince, foie gras, persillade, juniper and hazelnut

Pre-dessert: white chocolate mousse, dipped orange, candied orange zest, yuzu and ginger granita with tarragon

Dessert: shortbread, passion fruit, caramel, tempered 70% guanaja chocolate, condensed milk nougat, milk ice cream, passion fruit gel

Petit fours: blackcurrant and chocolate ganache, lemon drizzle madeleines

Every single dish was a taste explosion. The only element I really wasn’t keen on were the sweetbreads. I did try one. It did have the texture that I thought it might and I did (just) manage to swallow it whole before my mind caught up with what I was eating!

The service was warm, friendly and educational. Each dish was presented and talked through when it was brought to the table so that we understood where the ingredients had been sourced from and how the dishes had been prepared. We discovered that most of the fruit, veg and herbs are grown at Netherby Hall, just a mile away. Our wine was changed throughout the menu to complement the food.

And this was the end result… we pretty much rolled like barrels from our table to the sofas in the bar for coffee, petit fours and cognac.

Camisole top (now in the sale); Sequin trousers (now in the sale)

A bountiful breakfast

The following morning we enjoyed one of the most carefully thought through breakfasts I have ever had. There were  breads still hot from the oven, warm granola bars, yoghurt, freshly pressed juices and fruit followed by a cooked Scottish breakfast.

Any criticisms?

Very few but in the interests of a balanced review we had to find something. As you know we are aesthetically driven and the art at the inn jars, it just doesn’t quite fit with the ambience. A lot of the flowers in the displays both inside and out were artificial which seemed a shame.

Our only other issue was that both the inn and the rooms were very hot. Wherever we go, I am nearly always frozen but I ended up going down to dinner in just the camisole that I had planned to wear underneath my tux jacket which was very unusual. There is a very impressive biofuel energy set up and it was clearly running very well!

What is there to do in the surrounding area?

Walk for 10 minutes and you’re standing on the Scottish border (slightly alarming that police tape is attached to the border sign… and why does the sign look as though it has been beaten with a caber)? Of course don’t forget that this area is brimming with history and the stories of the Border Reivers, the raiders who lived along the Anglo-Scottish border from the 13th to 17th centuries. Scotland and England were frequently at war during this time so the families who were unfortunately positioned on either side of the border formed protective allegiances. It was a time of survival and cunning as they raided each other’s lands and houses, often taking prisoners for ransom.

There was a really interesting book about it in the room and I read the first few chapters. If you are planning a visit it would be worth a read in advance because it really brings the area to life.

The Steel Bonnets

The river Esk divides England from Scotland and this is the view from the bridge. The Pentonbridge Inn can book a rod for you in advance if you’d like to try your hand at fishing. There are salmon and trout to be caught but of course the rights vary depending on which side of the river you are on – they will explain it all to you.

This is great walking country and if we’d had more time I would have loved to explore the riverbank, especially if we’d had Gary with us. Incidentally, dogs are welcome in the bar and there are a number of dog-friendly rooms on the ground floor.

Within easy reach

Assuming you have a car with you, these places are within easy reach:

Penton: the nearest village, lovely walks in Penton Wood

Netherby Hall: currently being restored by the owners of the Pentonbridge Inn and sometimes open to the public, details here

Langholm: birthplace of poet Hugh McDiarmid and The Edinburgh Woollen Mill

Longtown: Arthuret Parish Church, the legendary resting place of King Arthur

Newcastleton: a local town with a music festival at the end of June

Devil’s Porridge Museum: a five star visitor attraction. Find out what life was like in the WW1 trenches and also learn about the part this region played in both wars

The Solway Coast: an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. Do a spot of birdwatching as you walk and see pink footed geese, whooper swans, dabbling ducks and oyster catchers. You can also stand at the end of Hadrian’s wall.

Kielder Forest: enjoy the forest or book a visit to the Observatory where you can see the largest area of protected sky in Europe at the Northumberland Dark Sky Park

Further afield

Hawick: many of the world’s leading designers source their cashmere from here. There is a visitor centre where you can see how cashmere is produced and several of the cashmere companies have outlets in the town.

Kagyu Samye Ling: a Tibetan Buddhist Monastery which is open for day visitors for no charge, all year round. You can visit the temple, which is open daily from 6am until 9pm and stroll around the peace garden and grounds. There are also Tibetan Tea Rooms.

Hermitage Castle: where Mary Queen of Scots visited her secret lover. It has a legendary giant’s grave and a mystical history of reivers, wizards and witches find out more here.

Melrose: leave your car here and take the train to Edinburgh(1 hour 20 min journey) for a day of shopping, eating and culture.

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What to pack?

The mood at The Pentonbridge Inn is relaxed country chic. Even in the restaurant there is a very understated style.

    Relaxed Saturday Afternoon

Just relax – have lunch, a glass of wine or two, take a book and some magazines.

1. Blush jumper – just the right nubbly texture to give you the country style look that says “I’ve had it for years.”

2. Girlfriend jeans – the step on from a skinny, a fit that hugs but has a slightly looser, ankle flattering hem

3. Grandad shirt with stitch detail (currently in the sale) – much easier to wear under a jumper or jacket than a collar and you’ll need the layering if you’re sitting by the log burners

4. Ankle boots – add a hint of spring to your outfit, plus an easy to walk in rounded block heel

5. Single breasted trench – for anyone like me who dislikes the lack of symmetry of an open double breasted trench

6. And… add a hint of natural looking polish – this isn’t the place for gel covered talons

Gastro Saturday night

The amazing dining experience you’re about to undergo requires a level of laid back chic

7. Long satin top – easy elegance in a flattering off-white with a sheen that will shimmer in the candlelight

8. Leather leggings in a non-urban navy blue, you’ll be glad of the elasticated waist (these navy leather jeans with a zip at the ankle are heavily reduced in the sale and if you’re lucky they’ll have your size… I’m so tempted because there is a size 12…)

9. Bright embellished flats – this isn’t the place for a vertiginous heel and these will be an elegant shoe as we move into spring

10. The perfect travel companion – a clutch that converts into a crossbody to use during the day. This also answers the conundrum of how to carry a bag when you’re out walking

11. Something silk to slip into when you return to your room. Remember this place is cosy, you won’t need your flannel pyjamas

Fresh Air Sunday

After the sumptuous breakfast at The Pentonbridge Inn, you will want to get out into the fresh air to aid your digestion.

12. A lovely knit with a springtime feel – and yet it’s half price in the sale, be quick

13. Repeat yesterday’s girlfriend jeans

14. An easy to wear quilted jacket with Stormwear protection. Don’t worry about the white, it’s machine washable.

15. Classic country wellies from the brand that is loved by the royals.

Final thoughts

The Pentonbridge Inn has already been added to The Times Cool Hotel Guide and The Telegraph so I suspect its reputation will soar. I won’t be surprised if it becomes a big foodie destination in the north with rosettes and a star or two. Go soon – before the prices rise to match, there is a special offer for dinner, bed and breakfast in January if you’re quick.

Disclosure: ‘The Pentonbridge Inn’ is not a sponsored post. We were invited to stay on a dinner, bed and breakfast basis so that I could write an honest, unbiased review.

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