#ships by victoria

[vera-keller]

pvt. jules here reporting for getting a ship duty, if you have time… hi

fall in pvt jules, my best friend, my pal, my homeboy, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese, my good time boy, for whom i will always have time to write a ship. buckle up comrade let's do this shit

joe toye takes one look at you in basic training at camp toccoa, circa 1942 or so, and immediately decides you're the next best thing under the sun amidst those rolling swathes of georgian hills after the aforementioned sun itself. but on second thoughts the comparison might as well be nullified because he's never seen anyone or anything that lights up every room the way you do so maybe to him you're one and the same after all.

and it's far from the only dualism of yours that confuses and delights him. he doesn't understand how someone with your kind eyes and soft skin and healing hands can be such an unstoppable force to be reckoned with, his .45 and hawkins mine and two grenades and smoke grenade and gammon grenade and tnt et al immediately humbled by the way you stake your firm claim to who you are and what you're here for amidst a company of paratroopers two times your size while still managing to come out on top.

you might be an unstoppable force, but joe is far from an immovable object, especially when he finds himself genuinely impressed by someone, and he sure as hell is impressed by you. so when he gets his wings and summons a measure of courage, he asks whether you'd like a drink at the pub for celebratory purposes.

you say yes, because any man willing to 1v1 hitler with a pocket knife is a man who's good enough to buy you your shots for the night.

and when he sees you ordering those shots straight up before the sun's even down, he falls in love.

you're a born debater who spits perfect rhetoric and joe will readily meet you in discourse every time, but he's there because he likes hearing your voice ring out in challenge far more than he likes hearing his own in answer. and it's not like he's winning any of the arguments, not against you. you're far too good for that and he knows it. and you can tell he's there because he likes being in close proximity to you in moments where you rise up and defend something you're passionate about or dispute something you disagree with, because you turn into a woman made of fire then and, good god, he can't get enough of it. you tell me whether he's smug as hell in front of the other easy boys that you're his girl because i think the answer is pretty damn obvious.

he's a listener more than he is a talker and he claims that he's not an intellectual and in all fairness he is a simple and straightforward man with simple and straightforward motivations when it comes to you. he's curious about roman-era northern germanic territories and pre-christianity northern europe and judea during the first jewish-roman war because you're curious about them and because you're willing to share that curiosity with him, and he recognises it as a gift, and he cherishes it like a motherfucker. he doesn't know what "carolingian" means. he knows perfectly well however that he's swept off his feet by the sudden desire to kiss you when you immediately set down the work you have on hand and turn to face him with palpable excitement in your eyes as you begin to explain it to him.

so he begins to really think of ways to show his love in ways that are also meaningful to you. he's a romantic through and through, having fallen first and fallen harder, and he's a lot more considerate about these gestures of love than one who does not know him as intimately as you do might initially imagine him to be. who would have guessed that ssgt joseph toye, the toughest man of the toughest company of the toughest regiment of the airborne corps, is quite the sentimental type who'll get you a bunch of wildflowers in the mountains of berchtesgaden and avert his gaze when he hands a bunch of them to you like they're not flowers he spent the better half of the morning picking out but a mere box of k rations? sir this man is a simp and though he's a little shy about it sometimes, he wears it as well as he wears that heart on his sleeve when it comes to matters concerning you, tough guy reputation be damned. to joe, if any man manages to find fortune smiling upon him so ardently that he might land you and still doesn't go out of his way to treat you right, then that man isn't worth shit.

chivalric as he is moved to be with you sometimes, he doesn't descend to baby you. fuck that. he knows what you're capable of. please see below diagram 1.1 for reference:

the comebacks that come out of your mouth and the fire in your beautiful beautiful eyes would have him go cold if they were ever aimed at him, but they never are. in fact, there's nothing he loves more than to watch you banter with the others and occasionally put someone in their place because that shit's funny as fuck. you're icepick-sharp, but that doesn't make you any less emotional or empathetic, and the bigger your emotions are around him the more he loves you. you're his ride or die, all or nothing just like he is, and just as he didn't hesitate to tell george luz that he met the woman he's going to marry when he first saw you before even learning your name, he doesn't hesitate now to think that you just might be the love of his life. perhaps some part of him is riddled with private anxiety that he doesn't deserve you, which is why he'll go out of his way to overcompensate, especially after bastogne, after he loses his leg, after he realises he's struggling to hold down a job without you fighting for it on his behalf. but you look him the eyes and run your thumb over his cheek as you hold his face in your hands and tell him with utmost sincerity that there's no one for you but him and him alone, and he swears in that moment he'll spend the rest of his life honouring you if for nothing else than for those words alone.

he wears the trinkets for luck you give him. he lets you read his moon sign and starts spreading his newly acquired knowledge of astrology and horoscopes through his platoon like the gospel or a pyramid scheme. he'll go to hell and back for you. you never question anything when you're with him; he leaves no room for doubt. you know that you'll always have his love to keep. oh, how lucky he is.

bonus:

perhaps if he graduated from harvard, david webster thinks, he might have the right words to describe you. he'd call it song of songs part two. he'd call it she walks in beauty the sequel. he'd call it shall i compare jules to a summer's day because she's the loveliest and most temperate and her complexion will never fade because it's been burned in my memory. but he didn't graduate from harvard. silly him.

so instead he observes you and memorises you like a frustrated artist might memorise a muse he knows his hands aren't quite deft enough yet to capture and let alone to replicate. he likes literature in no small part because of the aesthetics of literary form. he likes you in no small part because reading your features and expressions and body language reminds him of reading his favourite books back when he was a student. the same kind of appreciation applies.

he likes that he can drop a reference to something literary or philosophical and theological and your eyes are the first to flicker with either recognition or interest. he likes that you have a thirst for knowledge as unquenchable as his own. above all, he likes that your formidable intellect – that which he might compare to the intellect of penelopeia, queen of ithaca, or "grey-eyed athene", if he ever feels inclined toward a smidge of pretentiousness just to get your attention – comes hand in hand with your compassion. he likes that, amidst the chaos and acridity of war, you're a real person through and through. you challenge concepts you don't believe in. you do not blindly follow ideas and notions that you haven't deconstructed and put back together so that they convince you of their integrity. you speak up. he'll be your sounding board and your devil's advocate if you'll let him.

web doesn't have many close friends in his platoon so he 100% waits for you outside the barracks or mess hall or whatnot at toccoa, and later the house in which you're billeted in aldbourne, so he can walk with you to various places. though he vaguely reminds you of a lost puppy sometimes, the way he follows you around seemingly without realising it, it doesn't bother you in the slightest. after all, he's perfect to call upon if you have errands to run over the weekends off-base and he'll gladly use his pass to accompany you for them. time spent with him is never dull for a moment because conversation flows between the two of you like water. david is never out of things to say to you. likewise, he's never out of patience to listen. he's thoughtful. he likes different ways of looking at the world. to afford the privilege of looking at the world through your eyes by engaging you in meaningful conversation is perhaps the greatest intimacy known to him.

david webster is a curious man. he notices things like tiny variations in your makeup from day one to day two and he never fails to throw in a compliment or a reference to it in conversation as though it's the most natural thing in the world, a casual "i like your eyeshadow today, did you do something different?" or a "your lip colour really suits you by the way" paired with a small smile that's only a quarter sheepish and three quarters charming in the way only his smiles can be.

and he notices other things too, your hobbies, your hyperfixations, your hopes, your dreams, your tendency to stay up too late just as he does when burdened with something. if he were born a century later he'd be a devotee of that one chuck palahniuk quote, "your handwriting, the way you walk, which china pattern you choose. it’s all giving you away. everything you do shows your hand. everything is a self-portrait. everything is a diary." he wants to get to know you by spending as much time with you as possible and learning as many of these little details about you as he can, because you're endlessly and unfathomably interesting to him and he wants to be able to love you without falling into the all too available trap of romanticising you for what you are not. he wants to love you for what you are. and he's so gentle and patient and longsuffering about it that you let him in.

in eindhoven he watches you interact with the little dutch boy he gave chocolate to. dutch is your native language after all, and he can barely understand what you're saying to him but he sees the boy's face light up and he sees the way he warms to you and he finds himself warming to you more than he has before. the earnest look on your face has his heart straining in his chest.

in haguenau, david webster starts writing you love letters. he saves them in his breast pocket close to where his heart is, and the little private poetic gesture is for himself only to indulge in. and even after the company arrives in austria he takes a long time to confess any of this to you, because for all his academic understanding of romance, he genuinely struggles with verbalising his feelings. your intellect is your weapon. his intellect is his shield. he feels safest in the realm of abstracts and hypotheticals. he doesn't like being exposed and raw and vulnerable. he gets tongue-tied. his courage falters. but you're the opposite. to him you've never been short of upfront, and he sees that in you, and he admires that about you. you bring out the impulsive side of him. every passing day it stirs him a little more.

he might not have the right words to describe you, but perhaps he'd be able to talk about his feelings more if he loved you less. maybe it was never about his education. maybe it's as simple as seeing in you a kindred spirit whose companionship he wants for all the foreseeable future.

when the war is over, web asks you what your plans for the future are. you know it's his way of telling you he wants very much to be in them. so you ask him directly whether that's what he means. and you understand him so well. how could he ever say no?

[ltwilliammowett]

Carrack Nao Victoria

[staryty]

babe, wake up a new draw your ship meme just dropped

[moliathh]

hellsing organisation shenanigans

supernatural/barbie mugshot redraw: og pic

[l9vepotions]

if i see one more person ship vicky with that blonde, milk drinking, mommy issues freak i’m gonna cry and rip my eyes out 😭

[victorstoleyourorgans]

[wrathofthegodsfrontman]

A Jori gif set? In 2024?

My fav dysfunctional girlfriends

[emimii]

victeazer for the soul

[dibble-dumblr]

pt 3 AND the final part! this one also has minor SDR backstory spoilers, plus one CoS spoiler, so prompts + spoilers under the cut!!

Day 21: Younger selves (first spoiler) Day 22: Older Selves Day 23: Biggest supporter Day 24: Dancing (I did two lmao) Day 25: Barbie and Ken Day 26: In-Laws (older prompt that I accidentally did, which is the second spoiler) / Being Silly Day 27: Marriage Day 28: Drag Queens Day 29: AU of your choice (I did human au :) ) Day 30: At their best/worst (third spoiler) Day 31!!!: Halloween!!!!

. spoiler spacing

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[elderdragonblu]

Cant bring these guys anywhere 💀

[lifeisstrange-incorrectquotes]

[Max is walking across the Blackwell Campus when she suddenly finds herself surrounded by Victoria, Taylor and Courtney. Victoria is scowling with a mixture of annoyance and envy.]

Victoria: You. With me. Now.

[Taylor and Courtney grab Max's arms before she can protest. The next moment, Max finds herself getting frog-marched into Victoria's dorm room, where she inexplicably finds Chloe, Rachel, Kate, Alyssa, Brooke, Dana, Juliet and Steph all gathered. All seven girls sport various looks of amusement and confusion at their current situation.]

Max: [Pulling herself free.] Okay, what is this all about?

Victoria: You mean it's not obvious? I want you to tell me exactly how the fuck you managed to pull every girl of note in Arcadia Bay after only three months at Blackwell!

[Max has no answer. In fact, she doesn't seem too sure herself.]

Chloe: [Grins.] Well, me and her are childhood friends who've been crushing on each other pretty much since we first met.

Rachel: [Shrugs.] As it turns out, Chloe's only available as part of a package deal with Max. [Winks at Max before licking her lips.] Not that I'm complaining, of course.

Kate: [Nervous.] She's been nothing but nice to me in all the time I've known her.

Alyssa: I'd have at least six serious concussions if it wasn't for her constantly looking out for me.

Brooke: Eh, Warren turned out to be an ass, and I wanted to be able to say that I Korrasamied.

Dana: She's sweet, nice, cute, and surprisingly good in bed.

Juliet: Same. [Narrows her eyes at Victoria.] Oh and by the way, you're welcome to Zak if you're really that desperate.

Steph: [Shrugs.] After Dana joined, we decided we needed someone who could bring some semblance of order to…whatever this is. I'm a lesbian who manages theatre shit and tabletop games; they figured I was a natural fit for the position.

[A silent pause occupies the room.]

Victoria: ...This isn't fair.

[Victoria turns around and storms out. Taylor and Courtney look at each other, before looking at Max.]

Taylor: So...can we join?

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[vera-keller]

Hey I saw that your ships are open and was wondering if I could request one?

I have short dark brown hair and brown eyes. I have pearl earrings currently. I am 5'6. I am also ftm and gay. He/him pronouns

I am currently learning German and Ukrainian. I play the cello (I would say that I'm pretty decent at it). I want to join the paratroopers soon and maybe get a doctorate degree in the medical field. I like writing books, reading, and drawing. I am very interested in history, mainly the 20th century. I also know how to cross-country ski and love the winter.

My MBTI type if I remember correctly is INTJ. I love procrastinating and do well under a lot of pressure. I'm also very stubborn and awkward with talking to people so I don't have many close friends. For some reason, I have a sort of knack for doing things well, even if it's the first time I've tried it and that might be because I listen really closely to stuff to make sure I'm doing everything correctly. I need a straightforward path and a list of things I should do to get something done.

I have depression, anxiety and maybe (I say maybe because it's undiagnosed) maladaptive daydreaming, which basically means I daydream too much that it's a problem. Any small words of affection or reassurance sends me through the roof and makes me happy for the rest of the day (idk why). I also get angry very quickly and forget things quickly.

I am converting to Judaism so that’s cool. My sense of clothing style is just me pretending I’m in the military, pleather jackets, heavy jackets that are either camo or dark green, aviator sunglasses, a lot of neutral colours, fancy dress shirts/blouses, combat boots (which I currently do not own so just tennis shoes or winter boots), I have a few BoB pins which I have created on my own :) I like wearing t-shirts in winter under my jacket just because. The t-shirts usually have designs like aeroplanes, space, and museum shirts. I also have a collection of shirts from places I’ve never been cause I think it’s hilarious. I do a lot of things just cuz I think they’re funny.

I keep a lot of stuff in my pockets “just in case”. I impulse buy, which is a big insecurity of mine. People intimidate me easily so I usually wait to get approached to start a conversation. I like watching adventure shows like extinct or alive or expedition unknown.

 I would say that I have a very dark sense of humour and am almost always sarcastic when talking to my friends (also I love irony). I have an interesting music taste, most any song I listen to goes onto my liked songs on Spotify heh. I sometimes slip into a British accent or one that isn’t mine at all. I also tend to get myself injured at least once daily and now it’s a running joke with my friends.

I don’t really know much about romance, but I try. I don’t like that much physical affection but I do like praise, as I said before, and gifts. I love giving gifts to people.

Thank you!!

hey mister anon i was wondering whether you've been introduced to carwood lipton yet?

that's him looking at you up close to make sure you're real because christ on a cracker you're perfect.

this old boy earned his chevrons as first sergeant of easy company for a good reason. he gets into friendly campus tour guide mode every time he hears someone express interest in joining the paratroopers and he's a seasoned nco at this point, so he's pretty good at telling those who are genuinely committed to seeing through their interest apart from those who blouse their trousers over their boots just because they can. you fall into the former category. that's already one point in his books.

being off to a great start already, the other points come soon enough, quicker than he can count them. as genuinely excited as he is for the possibility that one day soon enough you'll be part of easy company, standing in perfect rank and file with the rest of his comrades-in-arms at camp toccoa after warming up for pt, he almost dreads the day you'll have to set your own clothes aside in favour of the paratroopers' standardised uniform because the way you dress is utterly striking to him. the image of you in your clearly military-inspired getup, your silhouette clean-cut and dashing in the way he imagines only gary cooper or errol flynn or someone worlds away from him can pull off, is burned into his mind as though by firebrand. both the initial sight of it and every time he then proceeds to reconstruct it in his mind following your first meeting bring forth a foreign sensation without a name or shape. it comes in like a tide, washes over him, pulls him under.

he knows he can never dress like you. he doesn't think he can pull it off, but by god do you make a good case for every outfit you put together. the aviators? yum. maybe lip does appreciate a man who knows how to dress himself.

your chemistry and compatibility become palpable facts the more time you spend together. lip is a meticulous planner who relies on structure to get things done. he plans down to to the minute. and he's always been a little in awe of the genius types who can seemingly be on hiatus for days and then get all the work accumulated throughout that time done to an incredulously high standard within hours of it all being due. you're a dark horse, a prodigy, who embodies this archetype right down to your bones. he doesn't resent you for it in the slightest, as you might initially suspect someone with his style of work ethic might do. he finds it an absolute phenomenon to watch and will never even think about asking you to change the habits of yours which fascinate him so endlessly. if you pull an all-nighter, he'll almost certainly go boil the kettle and make you a hot drink. he reads your writing with pleasure and often asks if he can help with organising any notes you might take from your historical research. he makes it a point to research judaism on his own when he learns you're converting. every now and then he worries for your wellbeing, worries that you're pushing yourself too much, but along with his worries comes resolve that he'll be there to catch you if you burn out. having figured out your communication style and working habits fairly early on in your acquaintanceship, he's more than happy to provide you with that straightforward past and to-do list that will allow you to exercise your efficiency to the maximum.

and, in recognition of your brilliance, he asks you to teach him german while you study the language yourself, considering it would be a practical second language to know and everything, given the circumstances. ukrainian is a smidge more difficult for him to master. he intends on making a proper start on it later, perhaps when the war is over. when he asks you good-naturedly whether you'll find some time to teach him then, you understand that it's another way of asking you to stay in contact after europe.

lip is the human embodiment of a packet of twinings superblends tea. his very presence is grounding. he reads your body language, memorises it like code, knows it by heart, by instinct. those big arms of his? yeah, he lifts. your fucking spirits up! he's your number one fan and he's not at all obnoxious about it. when you bend down at the table in the mess hall to pick up some dropped item on the floor, his hand – without him even thinking about it – goes to cover the corner of the table so you don't hit your head on your way back up. he calms your moments of acute frustration with that steadiness of his that you find yourself thinking of more and more even when he isn't there. when your mind begins to take you elsewhere into a daydream that threatens to keep you captive, he alone detects the almost imperceptible changes in your face and brings you back to reality with a gentle and non-intrusive touch. he has a soothing way about him that only serves to elevate 1.) his command abilities in the field and 2.) his ability to connect with you. he gets in all the places you don't expect, finding honesty and vulnerability behind the stubbornness. talking to him is easy because he expects nothing of you and does not hold you to judgement. he's familiar with you and accepts you, and you have nothing to prove to him. that's how it always will be. he makes that clear to you.

perhaps it's the way he always tells you "well done" or "good job" or "you did great", the act of acknowledging and praising you coming easy to him. he is reserved but tender this way, gilding each of your days with reassurance without going overboard with declarations of love and devotion that he's never been particularly good at. perhaps it's the way that, despite his occasional awkwardness with verbalising his deeper feelings, he refuses to be vague about the fact that he cares for you. but falling in love with carwood lipton is natural and slow-seeping, like water into sand, like coming home at the end of a long day.

and, to him, falling in love with you does not come as a surprise at all.

if we're going era-appropriate, then heteronormativity and its associated ugly side are rife in the 40s but lip cannot give two hoots about any of that. he loves who he loves, and either way it's nobody else's business but his own (and the beloved in question). perhaps he might put it in the sense that he falls for a soul and not a gender. so who you are now, who you were before, all of that is you, and he loves you, every single iteration of you that has led up to the man standing in front of him today. he never wavers on this. but – just because of the times you and he live in – he knows the importance of discretion and boundaries. there are subjects that he will only broach with you if you let him, information that he will only seek out if you choose to share it with him first. he's also smart enough to know not to let any of this on in public, but he promises you one night when you're lying next to him, your head on his chest, that the two of you will someday live in a world that will look upon your love with clear eyes.

but if we're not going era-appropriate because fuck that angst and fuck homophobia, then lip shows his love for you in the most gentlest of forms, little gestures imbued with his feelings for you. pda as a concept doesn't really exist to him. he's not a touchy person either and his affection never breaches boundaries in public or in private, but it is never withheld for even a moment should you want it.

and, of course, it is no question that your sense of humour just. straight up fucking baffles him. one might call you various things: the "archbishop of banterbury", an "absolute madlad" or a "menace" are just a few of the many different options available to choose from, and lip is honestly just out here smiling uncontrollably in spite of himself at your antics and right about here is when you get presented with a medal for making the mom friend break character in his complete amusement. besides, even he must admit that "clifford" is most fun to say in a british accent.

he keeps the gifts you give him with him, on his person if possible, but if not then in his footlocker, along with other precious mementos from your relationship. he looks at them often but what he sees in his mind's eye is the two of you, after the war, making a home for yourselves together.

first sergeant lipton is very much in love with you and he's a man who loves without reservation. congrats mister anon! this is the good ending. if y'all want to go ahead and adopt me i'm not saying no

[mbirnsings-71]

genderfluids your pro neighbor because the gender in parkciv is parkour- Who needs gender roles when you've got parkour anyways-

[sammaggs]

Horse to Water | A Fraser/Kowalski Vid

But I remember you dancing in autumn when we met You won't believe I saw it then so many years ago There was something about you I struggled to forget My blood was rushing down to you

for @syrupmap // inspired by @gjdraws' piece here

[mercurysketches]

welcome home, master 🖤

[zevanthsnecromancy]

True Love

Pip x Seras