#petya-in-a-cup

[storja-historja]

this is a little silly but just like with aqotwf your constant at home amongst strangers posting is influencing me to get into it soon enough💔💔 (also AA!! love your art so much! big inspiration!)

It's not silly at all! Honestly I'm glad people didn't mind and even curious abt whatever I'm currently into 😆 good luck if you're really going to watch it! Have a nice weekend!

(also aqotwf + at home among strangers mention makes me want to doodle a crossover nobody asked jdjdhfhk have a Kat having a little fun if they went to eastern front instead as a treat)

[petya-in-a-cup]

Are you still looking for people to talk with about Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs? Because I volunteer,,,

Oh absolutely, I'm always looking for people so please you're more than welcome!! That game has me in a chokehold

[turrettarot]

🔹Contributor Introductions!🔸

Adam ( @petya-in-a-cup​ ) has brought in their experience of creating fantastic art to beloved media, their character art an exciting addition to the deck!

[Image Text Transcript: Hi hi! My names Adam i use they/them, im an a future art major and possibly graphic designer. I’m into many fandoms including portal, mgs, yakuza, amnesia, pathologic and etc. Im excited to work on this project :) /end transcript]

[newextremityfan]

@petya-in-a-cup-sideblog

This is my unethical polycule. The nonmonogamy is consensual and negotiated we're just evil in other ways.

[jamietukpahwriting]

Anna… As he thought of her, Sergei smiled—that dazzling, tender smile of his—and the Lady Lavinia, seeing it, edged closer. But Sergei was far away now… In the birch woods round Grazbaya as Anna ran toward him cupping fresh-picked wild strawberries for him in her hands… Anna, whose cry of “Look, Seriosha, oh, look!” had been the thread running through their childhood as she shared with him her delight in a ring of white and crimson toadstools, a new foal, a skein of wild geese flying south to the Urals. If only he could find a job that would make it possible for him to look after her, and Petya too. She’d looked so tired when he saw her last at the club, so thin. Or should he, after all, marry Larissa Rakov as the grand duchess wanted? He’d fled from the baroness’s pallid plainness, her boring conversation, but compared to the Nettleford girls, the grand duchess’s dumpy lady-in-waiting seemed a miracle of propriety and intelligence and she was certainly very rich. Her banker father had seen the catastrophe coming long before anyone else and transferred all his assets to London. If he married Larissa, he could make a home for his parents and the Grazinsky’s too.

—A Countess Below Stairs by Eva Ibbotson

[thepetiteninja]

Welcome to 2024

Hello again!

My most recent post was from 4 years ago. And so much had happened since, so I guess it's time for another update. I'm writing this for me who will be reading this entry after a few years, maybe when I remember to dig up my old tumblr account again just because I felt like reminiscing.

So anyway, I'm turning thirty this year. That hasn't sunk yet because more than anything — I'm getting married this year too. It's still to the guy I have been writing about years before. We're turning 9 years this 2024, and are tying the knot this October. He proposed to me two years ago. On top of the Singapore Flyer, 11.11.22. Damn, what a date.

But the past few years weren't all about butterflies and happiness. These past few years were actually some of the worst ones of my life so far. I'm in debt. But fortunately on a good payment plan now that I haven't missed. I risked a really good job to pursue hosting full time — that only lasted for 3 months. Then shifted industries because I wanted to still give myself a chance. And so now I'm still hosting but for e-commerce livestreams. Got promoted twice in a year. I'm now a trainer. But I still do copywriting on the side because it makes good money. At least now I've flipped it up. Doing my passions full time then writing on the side. I'm tired though, to tell you the truth.

Mind-wise, I'm confident. I know what I can bring to the table and what I'm capable of. I don't second guess myself too much now. I still work hard and multi-task. I know my worth. I know my strengths. I learned my lessons well. I've been through difficult times and now I've gained stability. I know I'm ready to fly. In a smarter, more mature way.

Life-wise could be better. Because the wedding is right around the corner, everything I'm earning is being poured to it. So you can say I'm still living paycheck to paycheck after all the great things I take pride on. I'd like to think I've planted a lot of seeds that I'm just waiting to harvest soon. Hopefully the wedding turns out great, so I could finally enjoy the fruits of my labor completely. To be honest tonight, dinner was just a pack of pancit canton and cup noodles. It's petya de peligro and I don't know where to get tomorrow's fare to work. But I'll get by. After a day, salary's gonna come. I really hope it gets so much better soon.

So these things, y'know. It's entirely great but minutely terrifying. And every single time God proves to me that there's guidance from above. You won't believe how many conveniently unexpected blessings I've gotten over the past tumultuous years. I can't even comprehend how I've weathered through all the moments I worried about. But I'm here, sitting on my couch, safe, satiated, typing whatever comes to mind. It's these reflective, peaceful pauses that makes you realize that despite the chaos, I'm actually okay. Barely breathing but pushing on.

I'd like to think future me who would be reading this somehow, someday, would look at me and say: "just wait, it's going to be better". Because I would be saying the same thing to myself who started this blog 10+ years ago. It had gotten so much better. Crazier, but better. I wish future me would say, "babe, we're a millionaire". But more importantly would love her to say, "we still love what we do". No matter what that looks like.

So there. I think that's an ample update about how I am now. And hopefully in a few years tumblr would still be here so I'd be able to read all this again. It's a good self-therapy shit. And also I just missed writing my thoughts like this.

Ok, I'm just rambling now. Until the next update!

[jamietukpahwriting]

Anna… As he thought of her, Sergei smiled—that dazzling, tender smile of his—and the Lady Lavinia, seeing it, edged closer. But Sergei was far away now… In the birch woods round Grazbaya as Anna ran toward him cupping fresh-picked wild strawberries for him in her hands… Anna, whose cry of “Look, Seriosha, oh, look!” had been the thread running through their childhood as she shared with him her delight in a ring of white and crimson toadstools, a new foal, a skein of wild geese flying south to the Urals. If only he could find a job that would make it possible for him to look after her, and Petya too. She’d looked so tired when he saw her last at the club, so thin. Or should he, after all, marry Larissa Rakov as the grand duchess wanted? He’d fled from the baroness’s pallid plainness, her boring conversation, but compared to the Nettleford girls, the grand duchess’s dumpy lady-in-waiting seemed a miracle of propriety and intelligence and she was certainly very rich. Her banker father had seen the catastrophe coming long before anyone else and transferred all his assets to London. If he married Larissa, he could make a home for his parents and the Grazinsky’s too.

—A Countess Below Stairs by Eva Ibbotson

[newextremityfan]

@petya-in-a-cup-sideblog

[lady-stormwind]

Baking Buddies

Enchantimals Petya Pig Streuser & Nisha Baking Buddies dolls

[comradebezukhov]

I had a dream about a War and Peace Netflix show

The plot has been changed so much it’s barely War and Peace anymore, and it is super messed up. I’ll try to type it in chronological order because I can’t remember it very clearly

The show is called “War and Peace: Something something”

Julie Karagina married Anatole instead of Boris

And of course he keeps cheating on her

Boris married some kind of foreign royalty and we never see him again

Oh also Anatole is played by Timothee Chalamet

Anatole and Dolokhov has a threesome with a prostitute at some point

Pierre and Helene had a divorce

Helene’s new fiance insulted Pierre so Pierre had a duel with him instead of Dolokhov

Sonya is a ginger

Nikolai got to kiss the Tsar’s hand after a battle

The show basically keeps queerbaiting us with Tsarkolai

Vassily isn’t entirely bald, instead he has those Chinese Qing Dynasty hairstyle. Super random, I know.

Sonya accepted Dolokhov’s proposal but the card game thing still happened because Dolokhov was jealous(?) of Nikolai

They cast different actors to play a younger Natasha, Sonya and Petya

For some reason younger Sonya is not a ginger

Natasha & Boris and Sonya & Nikolai in the beginning of the show both become one-sided crush

Dolokhov isn’t involved in the abduction

Natasha does get onto Balaga’s troika but regrets it almost immediately

They end up being stopped by some soldiers/ officers

Marya becomes a pilgrim after OPB died

Anatole loses his leg as well as his penis in Borodino

Yet Julie still gets pregnant some time later

Petya died in Borodino

Andrei survived but never made a recovery, remaining weak and feeble for the rest of his life

Andrei and Natasha get married

They have a boy named Petya, a girl named Marya and another girl named Sonya I think

Pierre goes to Europe for some reason

Years later Pierre comes back to Russia, with his daughter and his son who are both illegitimate, to arrange things so that they can inherit his estates and stuff in Russia

The boy is named Andryusha I think? While apparently the girl is named Anya, after Pierre’s mother? (What)

They go to visit Andrei and Natasha in Bald Hills

Natasha tells Pierre about how Andrei and she had lived a happy life but now Andrei is old and all he is acting like his own father

And she is absolutely right Andrei is basically OPB 2.0

Also here old Andrei is being played by the same actor as OPB, adult Nikolushka is being played by young Andrei while their son Petya is being played by child Nikolushka

Old Natasha is another actress while old Pierre is played by Count Kirill Bezukhov

Nikolushka and Anya fall in love out of nowhere and he proposed

Ok the following part is kind of dark

Andrei falls ill and become bedridden.

He talks about how he hates being so old and weak, how he is not himself anymore and how he has already lived the life he wanted

He tells Pierre about some poison (?) that he keeps and ask Pierre to end him (wtf) and Pierre refuses

Next day Andrei lies dead with an empty cup at his bedside. It is unknown whether it was Pierre who did it.

Turns out it was Natasha. Andrei told her the same things he told Pierre and after a lot of crying she did as he said.

She sings to him while he closes his eyes

I know, what the actual fuck?

Yeah that’s all I remember about the dream. I’ll add back if I recall more of it later.

[efadinakazhdiyden]

“you play this one again and again. is it important?”

the old creaky sofa sags under pierre's weight as he sits down next to danya. a tender touch of a gentle palm between his shoulder blades takes him out of deep thoughts.

“it reminds me of you.”

“yeah? why?” his eyes crinkle with joy. “it is so sad though. and i’m not.”

“yes, it is.” danya puts the guitar aside and cups pierre’s face with his palm, his thumb slowly strokes the cheekbone. “but... i don’t know. somehow it’s about you. wanna hear me singing?”

“i’m not sure...”

“ah, even so?!” danya’s face is full of feigned indignation now and he’s going to stand up and go but pierre laughing catches his hand and stops him.

“wa-a-ait, i’m just kidding, of course i want! is it in russian? i love when you speak russian. singing can’t be that bad either.”

“you little liar. you love me singing too.”

“got me. so come on. go ahead.”

danya has never ever loved to sing to anyone but pierre.

”ты снимаешь вечернее платье, стоя лицом к стене.

и я вижу свежие шрамы на гладкой, как бархат, спине.

мне хочется плакать от боли или забыться во сне.

где твои крылья, которые так нравились мне?“*

“it’s by nautilus pompilius,” sad songs mean low voices and philosophical talks. “a man is asking his girlfriend or maybe wife about the wings she has lost. he loved them and now they’re gone”

“why is it about me?” a bright smile on pierre’s lips faded. the song was... well, it was russian in full mournful meaning of this word.

“don’t know. your wings... do you still have them?” it’s danya’s turn to touch pierre’s back, gently stroking between the shoulder blades. “are they here? i love your wings, petya.”

danya himself does not fully understand what exactly he means but it seems so important. does pierre have his wings? is he still able to fly?

because danya’s wings have been ripped from his back a long time ago.

“и если завтра начнётся пожар, и все здание будет в огне,

мы погибнем без этих крыльев, которые нравились мне.” **

redbull gives you wings but takes them off without hesitation too.

* you put your evening dress off, turned away from me.

and I see fresh scars on your smooth like a violet back.

i want to cry with pain or forget myself into sleep,

where are your wings, which i loved so?

** and if the great fire begins tomorrow

and the whole building dies in flame,

we'll die without these wings, which i loved so.

[newextremityfan]

@petya-in-a-cup-sideblog

call me easily amused but i still think it's so funny to go "who said that" after saying something wildly horny

[dregstrash]

jealousy, the thing with claws (pt. 4)

A/N: I finally got this done! I know the demand of a Kiss was high, but you gotta be patient. I hope this installment is up to expectations and you guys keep around for part 5

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Tagging: @kestrel-of-herran @ipizzippy @stormwitchprivateer @queenghafa @ysitsohardtofindaname @shadowylighting @alittlelark @privateerrezni 

-

“I have a solution for you, King.” Ehri’s voice was a surprise in the throne room at this time of day. Nikolai looked at the clock on the wall and raised his eyebrow at his intended.

“What could you possibly mean, my sweet?” He smiled sarcastically looking up from his glass. He really thought having weekly public requests would have assuaged the fears that were running rampant in Ravka, but with each request and with each verdict the tension only rose. The people were scared. They were starving. They were on the brink of utter ruin. And Nikolai was only one man. 

“You don’t have to marry me.” She didn’t step up to the dais where Nikolai was still sitting in his throne. Ehri’s face was stone still, and there was a hard line of determination set into her mouth. “I can promise the Shu’s peace and cooperation without marriage.”

Nikolai chuckled bitterly, “Forgive me, but I’m not used to women who so obviously detest me, is this some sort of cruel joke? If so, I could lend you this joke book that Toly-”

“It’s possible.” Ehri cut him off impatiently, “It’ll be possible because I’ll be your emissary and become a Ravkan citizen. Duality of citizenship is being started in Novyi Zem and with a draft from you, it could be part of Ravka as well. As your emissary and as your citizen, I can be loyal to you, and speak in your behalf in Shu Han. My people still respect me and my father will have to honor that. We don’t need to marry.” 

Another laugh almost escaped him, but then understanding quickly followed. Dual citizenship? He had heard of the Novyi Zem government doing that in a way to appease the amount of immigrants they were migrating there. And he supposed that the thought had crossed his mind to implement it when his country was more stable and could handle the increase of their populate. But to do it now? Could it be possible? Despite the logic that was screaming at him to slow his racing thought, hope was bubbling up from a forgotten place and he flashed forward in time.

With his engagement to Ehri dissolved he could start focusing on the other countries breathing down his neck. Trade routes with the Shu could be possible. The dangers of Parem could be somewhat maintained. He could choose his own wife-- an image of raven hair and blue eyes invaded his mind. And his wretched, traitorous train of thought took him down the steps of the palace and into the Little Palace. It carried him through marbled steps and quickened heartbeats until he arrived in front of her door. 

He’d knock, and feel his heart in his throat. She’d answer and he could almost imagine the frown that would slightly soften at the sight of him. He’d enter without being invited in, and her sarcasm would sweeten the air. Nikolai would pace around the room. His glance would bounce around the room, because he didn’t want to see her reaction as he explained the new solution Ehri had. He just needed to get the words out and then worry about what she would think. Except when the words ran out, and only silence filled the room, he would turn to her finally and be greeted by a smile that was almost a smirk. She would tilt her head and try to hide the amusement in her eyes, and that’s what would undo him. It was that look that made him feel like he knew her better than anyone. And then he’d close that distance between them. He’d hold her face in between his hands, and feel overwhelmed-- like a blade of grass caught in a storm. Her eyes would drown him. She’d feel warm, and her lips would part so slightly. Then he’d finally kiss her-- like he’s wanted to ever since she agreed to be his general. 

He’d kiss her like the sun kisses the sky, and when it long since set, then he’d shower her with affection like the stars sprinkling the night. He’d hold her closer and closer until their breaths were one, and he’d finally let his heart sigh in relief. His heart would finally feel the edge of despair step down and for that brief moment it would soar with hope and happiness that had seemed so dead before this moment. 

Ehri coughed and Nikolai snapped back to the present. One of her eyebrows were raised expectantly. He opened his mouth to start to agree when his pride demanded something else to be asked.

“Do you really detest me so much, you’d do anything to not marry me?” 

For the first time since he’s met her, Ehri smiled, “I do not detest you, Nikolai. I detest that my life has been dictated to me since the moment of my birth. And I think we both know the lengths of which I would go to keep my freedom.”

Nikolai frowned at the thought of Isaak-- of the sweet boy who died with another man’s face. 

“Now, do we have an agreement?” She said crossing her arms.

This time it was Nikolai who smiled, “We do indeed, Princess.”

-

He didn’t wait to tell the rest of the Triumvrate about the change of plans. They’d agree with him. And it would be the best course of action, it might even increase their export and import. But he did have to tell Zoya. 

He remembered his daydream, and his steps hurried at the mere thought of how close to reality it could be. He could have it all-- Just this once he might be able to--

“Zoya,” Petya’s voice filtered in through one of the hallways of the Little Palace. 

Nikolai almost tripped as he slowed and softened his footfalls. His heart which had been racing, now felt cold and slow-- like it was trying to function through quicksand. 

He reached the corner where a suit of armor was placed, it was just enough space to hide behind as Zoya and Petya stood by a beautiful stained glass window. The reds and blues splashed pleasantly on both of them, and while Petya looked flushed and nervous, Zoya had a soft amusement in her face that Nikolai had not seen in a very long time.

“I-I know it really hasn’t been that long,” Petya continued to stammer. His feet shuffling awkwardly, “But--but there’s a war coming and-- And I don’t want-- I don’t want uncertainty or regrets to be my last thoughts, should I die--”

“I must have been a bad influence if I’ve gotten you thinking about your death, Petya.” Zoya laughed. 

He relaxed slightly and offered what looked like a smirk, “As you say, my flower, practicality is just ruthlessness.” He coughed then took a deep breath. Before sinking down on one knee. 

A sharp pain sliced down Nikolai’s hand and he glanced down surprised at the cut across his palm. He was gripping the armor’s jagged dagger so tight that the dulled edge cut his skin. But he couldn’t bring himself to tend to the wound because something else was cutting at him. It was the same roaring beast that reared its ugly head the first time Petya asked for his opinion about Zoya. The same creature that growled and howled when he caught sight of the couple was now shredding his slowed heart. Its claws ripped thoughts in Nikolai’s mind, conjuring up a thousand ways that he could have torn Petya apart or interrupted the scene in front of him. And Nikolai was sure he would have if it hadn’t been for the way Zoya was looking at the other man.

Her eyebrows were raised and her face was in complete stillness as Petya kept talking.

He took out a dazzling ring from his pocket and pressed it to Zoya’s hand. “This is yours. I want to marry you Zoya Nazyalensky. By the saints, I am honored as all can be that you’ve let me court you, and if you so wish it I would work my entire life to be a husband you deserve. I--I know that you do not wish to marry so quickly or so haphazardly, and you don’t have to answer me now. Just--When you decide, wear the ring-- then I will know. I love you, Zoya. I wish to make you happy.”

So do I, Nikolai thought numbly. His body wasn’t sure how to react to the shock that had started from his heart and then spread to his limbs. He wanted to run out of there, but also stay in place to see Zoya’s answer. He wanted to scream, but also never utter a single word again. His blood ran cold, but his heart seemed to flare angrily. Hundreds of contradictions were warring against him.

Zoya’s hand closed around the ring, and with the other, she cupped Petya’s face. Her lips upturned in a sad sort of smile.

“Thank you for being understanding, Petya.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. That’s what made Nikolai finally move. He moved back into the shadows that were behind him. He tried to even his breathing and to temper the dread and regret and disappointment that was poisoning his whole being. But he was only fooling himself. Because with each pained step, with each breath, with each passing thought, he was ruined and wrecked. The daydream that had spectacularly felt so close to reality had shattered and he was brought back into the jagged edges of reality.

[agateshot]

He has had quite a few visitors over the days, each one stranger and more baffling than the last. So many people have been coming to visit him, and it's not that surprising that he knew them-- he knows all of them.

What confuses him, is that every single one of them knows him. Everyone. The baker comes to visit and brings him a bit of his favorite bread, and the butcher comes along in the next hour to make it into his favorite sandwiches for him, telling him that if he had known when Sandra was planning to visit, they would have come together. Petya of course is quick to understand, but--

The steady stream of people don't stop there, giving him things, helping him in little ways.

Everyone calling him by his name.

It gets to a point where it's overwhelming, that even their gentle kindness has been too much. He can't keep the tired confusion out of his face anymore, but even then he isn't belittled for it or told that he's been ungrateful. The lady he's talking to, Yenna, gives him a kiss on the cheek and a hug, and tells him she'll make sure the word is spread that he needs to rest for a while. He thanks her, and she smiles at him, calmly leaving him to his thoughts.

A few days pass after that, and it's quiet, no one bothering him. Petya can't seem to wrap his head around it, how do all these people so effortlessly know him? He hadn't been aware that he had left such a strong impression with the Silver Knights, let alone people in the city.

There's a soft knock at the door, pulling him out of his thoughts, Petya blinking as the thin form of Princess Yorshka walks in, greatly taking him aback.

"Your guards--" He says quickly, but she shakes her head slightly.

"At the end of the hallway," She tells him, "Perchance thou hast been asleep."

"Damn my sleep," He grumbles, only for his face to go pink as he realizes he's cursed in front of Yorshka, adverting his eyes, "I mean… Your safety is more important than my rest."

"Wouldst thou have me call them closer?" She asks, and he nods. She ducks out for a moment, the sound of metal clad footsteps following.

He struggles to sit up as Yorshka comes back into his room, the young lady opting to crawl onto his bed instead of sitting on the chair, setting her basket on the table as she arranges herself so that she's sitting behind him without pinching her tail, pulling out a silvery brush to start pulling through his hair.

"Did you come all this way to groom me?" Petya asks, "That's a little silly."

"I should have come sooner," She admits, "But Lothric cautioned me that thy mood has been poor lately, and that today thou would enjoy some company again. He says he shall visit next time with mineself, but his brother has plans for a day with Lothric."

Petya nods slightly. Lothric kept doing that, knowing things, but in a way it was almost comforting. Almost. At least the mysterious little boy was consistent in his strangeness. Yorshka pauses, putting aside the brush to place her arms around him, and Petya realizes that for the first time since she was a baby, this was the only time she has touched him when he hasn't had the metal shell of his armor.

It slams into him with such a force that tears are rolling down his face, and try as he might, he can't keep them at bay with the palm of his right hand. Yorskha hands him a handkerchief and he thanks her, using it to wipe at his face.

"It's good to know you're safe." He tells her, "That I was able to keep you safe this long. It's been an honor and a pleasure being there for you, Yorshka. I'm sorry I won't be there in the future to continue to do so."

"Ser Petya…" She's got that tone in her voice, and curse him, curse his body, he can't even turn around to wipe her face! "Thy loyal heart hast not perished, nor has thy body. Perhaps thou shalt not be my guardian as thou has been for the years of mine life, but mine brother has always entrusted to me thy service as a Knight. As long as thou breath in loyalty to the moon, thou art my Knight, wherever thy duties and life bring you, and I should never throw thee away."

She crawls around him, coming to face him, taking her Knight's face in her gentle hands, meeting his agate eyes with her pale ones, the delicate featherlike scales that grace her cheeks and brow damp with her tears. She is as beautiful today as the day he had seen her, the pale pink tendrils peeking out from behind her redish hair.

"On the occasion mine brother need abdicate his throne, though in such an occasion I should hope it were in the happy pursuit of living a fuller life away from conflict," Always the optimist, of course, "It is true Knights, such as thineself, that I shall have to support me in my reign. Thou hast not lost any of thine worth in this accident, and thou must know this. Thou must."

"Is that an order, My Lady?" Petya murmurs, and Yorshka nods, eyes shining with a light that rivals the moon's.

"An order and a decree." She says, "And I knowest my brother shares mine heart in this. Thy duties shall change, they must. Cease thy dark thoughts in thine value, I, Yorshka, bid you. Thou hast always been by mineself when I should need thee, and thou shalt always be."

Petya nods, his mouth pulling down into a frown, trying and failing not to cry. Yorshka pulls him into a hug, and Petya returns it, burying his face in her hair.

They stay like that for a moment, Petya unable to let her go until the moment he does, cupping the side of her face in his good hand.

"Thank you." He says.

"Nay," She says, a shake of her head, "Thank thee, Ser Petya. Thy service to mine brother and mineself thou hast already given is that which cannot be repaid. It would be a failing and a dishonor to allow thee to face thine turmoil alone, one that shalt not happen. Now; if thou wouldst…"

She turns, pulling from her basket a few ribbons to present him.

"...Which of these shall I decorate thee with?"

There was comfort in familiarity, and Petya Lebedev, Silver Knight of the Nameless Moon, smiles.

[herbertwest]

Six of Cups more like ‘Petya Has Two Dads and One of Them is Lenin’

[newextremityfan]

@petya-in-a-cup-sideblog

*kisses you while you're in the middle of infodumping* Sorry, you're just being really sexy right now. Continue.