Ad0rati0ns - Tumblr Posts

There were plenty of ways Anne could’ve been spending her night. Reading. Preparing tomorrow's lesson plan. Hells, even sleeping, if she were to be as entirely pathetic as she felt. But being in a tavern was not one of the ways she’d expected to spend her free time.

She hadn’t intended to be at the tavern. She’d been walking the streets to finish her errands when she caught sight of a dreadfully familiar face-- a face that she would rather not see. So, with haste, she slipped into the nearest establishment to hide. Surely, a man of his stature wouldn't be caught meandering in a pub, so it seemed the perfect place to seek sanctuary. She'd never expected a tavern filled with drunkards would ever be her solace.

“They don’t drink it for the taste, that’s for sure.” She smirked, taking in the sight of the other woman. Anne didn’t frequent pubs, so she couldn’t be sure if the other belonged here or not, but she was rather glad to see another female in the room. Too much testosterone wasn't healthy for a lady, after all. “But I’d dare say it’s hard to find anything good for a halfpenny. Luckily, most people don’t care what it tastes like as long as it gets them even a trifle disguised.”

open to: anyone!

verse: fantasy/period

plot: the princess (or governor's daughter) has made a happen of sneaking out at night to the village below. tonight, she tries out the tavern. that's it, that's the plot.

"well...this is definitely not champagne," she mutters, her face twisting in disgust. "and people come here to drink this...willingly?" the young woman stares at the dark brown ale in her cup in confusion.

Anne takes a seat across from the stranger. It wasn't like her to talk to strangers, but something about Athena made her curious. If it were any boorish man, she would've turned tail and went straight home. But something about this conversation made her feel like her old self again.

"I've spent the better part of my life caring for children, so sticky surfaces are not entirely foreign to me." As she positioned herself in the seat, Anne allows her eyes to scan the table and take note of how truly dirty it was. A mess like this would be enough to get her fired, she thought. But there was a reason the upper classes didn't hang about in taverns and pubs. Her lips turned down in disgust at the grime, but the expression had vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

"And is that your goal for the evening? To be disguised?"

athena brightened considerably at the other woman's arrival. although the princess wanted to enjoy the village life, there was simply too many rowdy patrons in the bar. most of the men left her alone and she was thankful for that. still, athena did not have many friends who didn't have ulterior motives.

"i can see why," she mutters, setting down the cup with a small sigh. "please, join me," athena invites, sweeping her hand across the table. "the table is sticky and seats are not very comfortable, but that one is yours if you'd like it." the blonde smiled. "well, i suppose i can't blame them. we all want to be disguised sometimes."

The male’s voice reached her ears and she suddenly felt out of place. She was, she supposed, but it was easier to blend in when surrounded by strangers. She didn’t frequent many taverns, and she hardly knew the proper etiquette to be upheld in such a place, but she had a feeling it wouldn't matter much.

“Oh, uh, yes,” Anne nods, smiling softly as she straighten her skirts. “Are you open? I was just looking for a quick meal before I head back out. Could I get whatever’s cheapest? Or easiest.”

his eyes drooped heavy with sleep as he wiped down the bar. last night's crowd sung until the wee morning hours and alistair hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. still, he managed to get dressed and open up the tavern the following morning. laurel was just finishing up the minced meat pies and gus was already a few pints in. seems like it was going to be a normal day, after all.

with a yawn, he grabbed the old broom from the closet and begun cleaning up before the lunch crowd could arrive. the floor still had a few peanut shells and the occasional button- all easy things that could be swept away until they returned in the evening. the scotsman continued sweeping until he reached the front door, sweeping the dirt and debris into the road.

however, he was met with a young woman coming in the same direction. "bugger- sorry about that, lass. are you coming in?"

@ad0rati0ns sent 🤝  to  hold  my  muse's  hand.

Anne’s fingers laced with Athena’s, the only thing seeming to quell the trembling in her hands. She felt childish, shaking like a leaf because of a storm raging on outside. There was a roof over her head and sturdy walls to keep out the rain and winds, and yet she couldn’t shake the irrational anxiety that swelled in the pit of her stomach. If she had been alone, Anne might’ve cried. Or perhaps she would’ve just remained silent, tucked away in a corner until the clouds passed. But with Athena there, and her hand in Anne’s, things didn’t feel so bleak. "Thank you for being here."

@ad0rati0ns sent 😋  to  give  my  muse  their  favorite  snack.

“You're kidding.” Hands rose to her mouth to shield the excited gasp that spilled from her lips. Anne hadn’t eaten cucumber sandwiches since she was a child, since the age when eating with one’s hands was still acceptable in high society. She couldn’t imagine how he would’ve known such a thing, but the sight of such a simple, nostalgic treat was enough to bring tears to her eyes. “Alastair, I don’t know what to say.” Anne picked up a wedge of bread, a generous slice of green wedged between them. A smile played at her lips, grateful and wistful all at once. Not able to hold of a moment longer, Anne stole a bite of refreshing goodness and could practically feel the memories and warmth of childhood flood into her bones.

“Oh, um, just a pie sounds lovely." Her stomach rumbled at the thought. Although the food at the Pleinsworth family was nothing short of exquisite, Anne didn't mind a bit of change every once in a while. And a hot pie before finishing up her tasks sounded perfect. "And perhaps some ale? All the walking around has me a bit parched."

alistair stepped to the side, holding the door open with his foot. the young woman in front of him wasn't his usual clientele, but money was money in the end. "aye, just opened." he waved around, "you can sit wherever you like."

he walked around the bar to gather a fork and knife. "we've got some pies on the fire now. i also have sausages, stew, and uh..." he scratched his head. "i think we have some haddock, but it's quite salty." the barman leaned against the wooden counter. "what'll it be?"

Anne used to like storms. She used to find comfort in watching the raindrops carve their ways down the window panes, little racers all determined to score a victory. She wasn't entirely sure when things had changed for her, but it was definitely after her old self had ceased to be. Annelise wasn't afraid of storms, but Anne was. The lonely nights on the Isle were miserable, and the howling winds and roaring thunder didn't help to comfort her uneasy bones. Those days were so far behind her, and yet the feeling of the earth rumbling beneath her feet made dread rise in her chest.

"Hot chocolate sounds lovely." Anne fought to wear a smile. It felt silly for a grown woman to be terrified of weather, especially when she'd consoled children on much less trivial fears. But on her own, with no one's dignity to protect but her own, Anne felt helpless. She appreciated Athena's presence, more than she ever dared to admit aloud. For once, she was the one being consoled in a state of fear.

the rain always had a calming affect on athena. it often lulled her to a deep sleep, comfortable in her warm sleep clothes and sound of pitter patter. one glance at anne, and athena realized that not everyone had the same reaction. she squeezed the other's hand. "of course. i am sure it'll be over soon, and in the meantime," a devious smile appeared on her lips. "we can have hot chocolates."

"Thank you." She smiled, grateful for a simple conversation. As much as she enjoyed the energy of her young charges, there was only so much one could talk about unicorns and monarchs before going mad. Thankfully, Alistair didn't seem to be the type of person to talk about either unicorns or kings, and she was appreciative of it.

"Not exactly. I work over in Mayfair, as a governess. But I had some errands to run in town and figured a day off would be as good as any to get things done." Anna wraps her hands around the drink, letting the smell fill her nose. Such a distinct smell, taverns had. It wasn't exactly pleasant, she had to admit, but something about it felt familiar, safe. "Normally I'm chasing young ladies around a desk. I'm sure you do the same with customers?"

"sure, i can get that for you," he says, nodding towards a woman in the back and holding up his finger. "one pie, laurel!" alistair turns his back, grabbing a pint and holding it under a barrel of ale. "aye, walking can be deadly." alistair slides the ale towards the young woman. "i haven't seen you around here. are you new to town? "

“I— Well, yes.” Anne nodded, a shade of pink spreading across her cheeks. At one point, she had been one of the posh folk, sitting atop their soap boxes while the world looked up at them. But such a life felt eons away by now and a part of her preferred the life of a servant. While she wished for nothing more than to return home to her parents and sisters, Anne wasn’t sure she should like to return to a life of balls and dresses, courting and titles. Being a teacher was simple and comfortable, aside from the phantoms of her past she always seemed to be running from.

Rich folk wore masks. They spun pretty lies while smiling, eyes twinkling with practiced sincerity. Rich people took themselves too seriously, and their picturesque lives were nothing more than a prettily painted façade. But the so-called lower class were more human. They were honest when it mattered. They worked hard for their keep and they weren’t afraid to make a scene when times called for it. Alastair seemed to check all of those boxes and she couldn’t help but admire him for it.

“Well, I’m glad at least someone knows how to behave.” Her lips quirked into a playful grin as she glanced in the man’s direction. When she turned back to face Alastair, Anne tilted her head to the side. “I promise to be on my best behavior as well. I wouldn’t want to be out-mannered by Gus.”

he nods his head, hand idly playing with the stopwatch at his side. he had a habit of constantly checking the time, waiting for the minutes and seconds to count down. to what exactly? he didn't know. it seemed to be that he was waiting for something, but nothing ever happened.

the barkeep nods his head. "ah, you work for the posh folk. figures why i haven't seen you around. i mainly stick to these few streets, lest others think i'm a stray cat." alistair let out a breath, the action making his hair move every which way. "you could say that. 've a few regulars that like to come in and cause chaos after they've had their few. 'cept for gus there," he nods to the man in the back. "all he does is sleep, poor chap."

She feels partially guilty for being on the receiving end of such a selfless gesture. It wasn’t as though the sandwiches were hard to make. Anne knew he hadn’t been slaving away in the kitchen just to make such a treat, but he’d still made an effort to surprise her. An effort she didn’t think she deserved.

“Do you ever have certain foods that bring you back to specific moment in time? Like, a really spectacular piece of pie that tastes like Yuletide? Or a perfectly tart glass of lemonade that reminds you of laying in the summer sun? It feels silly to say that cucumbers taste like home, but…” She popped a wedge into her mouth and smiled. “They do.”

alistair smiled behind the bar, pride abundant on his face. heaven knows he wasn't the greatest chef, nor the most generous man, but when he heard about anne's favorite snack, he wanted to do something nice. he thought about it as supporting a healthy patron-bartender relationship, and not because she had silky hair and rosy cheeks. "it's not a problem, lass. rupert over on hanover street found a good deal on cucumbers. i figured i could give the wee sandwiches a try."

"Cranachan?" She tried her best to imitate the pronunciation, only to fail miserably. She'd lived on the Isle of Man for three years and yet Anne had never quite learned to master the Gaelic lilt. "No, I don't believe I've ever tried it myself. I believe the dowager I served as a companion for was rather fond of them, but I was never allowed to steal a bite." She listened to him speak, smiling with a twinge of envy. "It sounds wonderful, though. I'll have to be sure to try some as soon as possible."

perhaps in another life he could have been a chef. perhaps he could rise above his station and work in a nice restaurant that had table clothes and silver. well, perhaps not silver, per se. even dreams needed a reality check. but cucumber sandwiches were easy enough. the cucumbers were sliced unevenly and the bread was probably past it's prime by a day or two, but no one could say that alistair didn't try.

he raised a brow and thought about his own memories. for a while, he thought he had nothing to contribute, then a sudden memory fell into his lap. "have you ever had cranachan?" he nodded his head, picturing the dessert in his mind. "when the berries were ripe and harvested back home, we'd layer them with crowdie, oats, and a wee bit of honey." he sighed. it had been many years since he last tasted something like that. "we had it once a year around august." he grinned. "plus, it goes great with whiskey."

"Are you laughing at me? You are, aren't you? You cheeky bastard." She scrunched her nose in defiance, a flush of embarrassment spreading across her cheeks. "But I suppose you're right. Nothing worth having has ever been given willingly." Though she means it with complete sincerity, Anne is almost positive that George had said something similar to her the night she'd been exiled. He had been a man well-accustomed to having the world handed to him on a silver platter, and that included whatever woman he found alluring enough. Anne had been foolish once to believe George was ever capable of loving anyone other than himself, and she would never make such a mistake again. The thought of him makes her feel sick, so she tries to hone her focus on Alistair.

"Really? You'd do that?" Narrowing her eyes, she smirked. "Even for a bothersome posh lass like me?"

he grins at anne's pronunciation. it makes him chuckle seeing her struggle with the unfamiliar word. "something like that, aye." alistar shakes his head. "that's why sometimes you've got to take what you want. the world is unforgiving to people like you and me. whether it's gold or cranachan." the barkeep shrugs his shoulders. "maybe i'll make it for ya one day."

She had spent what felt like an eternity on the sea, fleeing her home atop restless waves, all to take her somewhere that surely held little promise. She wasn't even entirely sure where she'd even ended up when they docked, but it didn't matter. She had hurried off the gangplank without asking, eager to find a place to eat and vegetate for the night. Anne was merely happy to be on solid ground again, that she didn't care if she had to sleep in a stable. Until the possibility reared it's ugly head.

She had been minding her own business. Or at least she had tried to, but the stranger's discussion with the barkeep was hard to ignore, especially with the growing agitation in their voices. When the man's eyes fell upon her, Anne wasn't sure if he was serious. It was a rather unsatisfactory proposal, sharing a room with a man she didn't know. If she had been better rested, she might've been a better negotiator and made a case for herself. Anne might've tried to reason with the stranger to let her have the room, being a lady and all. Though after all that time on a boat, she wasn't sure how much of a lady she appeared to be. But she was exhausted and she would agree to anything if it meant rest came sooner. And the promise of a discount made it sound all the sweeter.

"Fine. If the only other option is sleeping in the stables, I suppose I have no choice." In her mind, one room meant just that: one room. But it had never crossed her mind that such a thing would only mean one bed. Her head was too fuddled with exhaustion to realize the minor details of such a discount, more glad by the pretty penny she'd save in the meantime. "I hope you don't snore."

open to: anyone! 26+

verse: fantasy/period

plot: your basic there's only one bed trope. angelo is a loser pirate (with no boat right now- lost it to gambling) and he's already on edge from staying on land for so long. this is not a smut starter <3

It was a record cold night, the snow and ice piling up outside. It was the kind of cold that seeped through your clothes straight to your bones. Angelo leaned against the bar, staring down the bartender. “What do you mean there’s only one room left?” he looked around the busy tavern- it seemed like everyone in town was here trying to escape the cold. He glanced at the person besides him. It was obvious they were going to inquire about a room, as well, based on their traveling clothes. In a normal situation, Angelo would take the polite route and offer them the room. But not when it simply stepping outside would cause frostbite. “you’re welcome to stay in the stables?” the bartender said, looking annoyed with angelo’s asks. “you’re keeping the animals inside, and you want me to sleep in the stables?” his response was perfectly timed with the bleating of a goat. “you two can share the room. I’ll even give you a discount,” the bartender grumbled. Angelo sighed and rubbed his forehead. He considered his options. The stables or a warm room. Solitude or a stranger. After a moment he glanced at the person besides him. “what do ya say?”

"Oh, you make it sound so charming. Exactly how many bar fights do you average on a day-to-day basis?" She teased, cradling the drink in her hand. Anne knew that it would be safer for everyone if she was gone before the usual crowd came barreling in, but she hoped she might stay and relish in normalcy for a little longer. She always stood out, no matter where she was. Among high society, she was a servant--pretty and witty, but nothing more than a governess. And when standing among a crowd of cits, she stood out like a sore thumb with her neatly pressed clothes unmarred skin. Anne never fit in anywhere, and yet she felt an odd sense of comfort with Alistair. "Is that all it takes to befriend you, sir? My, how I do wish pleasing people was this easy with everyone."

alistair didn't have much experience with the posh folk of england. it wasn't like they frequented his tavern. no, they had special port wine and sweet mead to wet their lips. maybe some fancy whiskey if they felt like slumming it with the rest of the folk. alistair preferred to stick with his own class. he knew fancy ladies didn't look at him, nor would they want to. not that he would have a chance with any of them. he imagined his future wife out there was selling oysters or cleaning houses.

his clientele were rough and rowdy. they worked hard all day and night, and liked to drink and gamble to relax. he was more than happy to provide that for them, if they could pay, of course. it wouldn't be a business if he couldn't fill his coffer.

anne was not the kind of person he interacted with on a daily basis. she was kind and clean and well spoken. it was refreshing for someone to visit the tavern before it was overrun. "if you stay awhile, all the rest of the regulars come stumbling in. though, i'm not sure you would want to see that." he nods his head and chuckles, throwing a rag across his shoulder. "perfect. then you and i will get along just fine."

"At me, with me. It's all the same as far as I'm concerned." Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave a dramatic pout. After a beat, her lips pulled into a smile, relinquishing the attempt of appearing upset. She'd been laughed at before, with far more malice than anything she could imagine Alistair doing. But that didn't mean she wouldn't tease him for it.

"I wouldn't know about either of those, but I'm sure you're right." Anne didn't have much experience with friends or love, but it sounded right. To a certain extent, anyway. Her mother had always told her that love was something that had to be earned, not freely given, and yet Anne had never seen the point of gatekeeping her love nor her friendship. And look how that turned out, she thinks to herself.

"Well, I am grateful for your generosity. Even if you did laugh at my horrid pronunciation." Letting out a sigh, she tossed a glance back at Gus, still snoring away in his seat. "Doesn't it get lonely working here? I don't mean to knock Gus's spectacular social skills, but I'm afraid I would go mad with all this... stillness."

"i'm not not laughing at you. what do they say? i'm laughing with you." he chuckles, a boyish grin on his face. alistair wipes down the counter, even though he'd done it three times already. "except for friendship. an' love, i suppose." it wasn't like he was the expert on the subject. his first love ran off with a man of higher rank. he couldn't much blame her, but it still stung.

"aye. even for a bothersome posh lass like you," he winks.

"I trust you ... but I don't trust them with you." From any of mine!

"Alistair, I'm a grown woman, you don't have to worry about me. You haven't seen what I'm capable of with a blade in my hand." She smirked, a light rouge painting her cheeks. Although she liked to believe she was tough enough to handle herself, Anne wasn't entirely sure she wanted to risk mingling with drunkards. Alistair knew the streets better than she did, and if he didn't trust them, then surely she had no reason to trust them, either. She was quickly becoming aware of how little she truly knew when it came to living in the city. Despite her time working in London, she was a country girl to the core, it seemed, and she wasn't quite built for the commotion of nightlife. But she appreciated his concern nonetheless. Reaching over to gently squeeze his hand, she smiled. "But, thankfully, I have you to protect me."

“A governess, yes. My position is in Mayfair currently. Though I've worked in quite a few places over the years.” She confirmed with a soft nod. Anne was surprised by the excitement in the other woman’s features, versus the expected distaste knowledge of her employment typically evoked. “It’s not the most glamorous position, I admit, but I do adore my students.”

“Oh, you needn’t do that.” Waving her hands to dismiss the gesture, Anne let out a chuckle. “I would love to join you, but perhaps sans ale. I could not return home smelling of spirits and not get a scolding of my own. But you are free to indulge to your heart’s content. If anything, consider me your knight to protect you from the less-than-chivalrous sorts that haunt these halls.”

athena was relieved that the woman decided to join her. it wasn't often that athena could truly speak her mind with the ladies of the court. at least here, it felt like all her sins could be forgiven. "are you a teacher? or governess?" athena leans forward despite the stickiness of the table. "i had a governess who taught me about all the lands in asia." the princess recalls her governess fondly, despite the scoldings she received when she misbehaved.

"my goal is to be...? relaxed and happy, and enjoy the warm summer air. you must join me, i'll purchase some ale for you!" she grins at the thought.