only on weekdays, and only with people who deserve it. like a happy accident. or zoya knows exactly what she's doing.
[ she's very nearly on the verge of a defensive what does that mean, until — oh. his mother. her skin manages to, miraculously, pale and warm all at once. ]
and you say you can't write poetry. that was a lie. i wiped away all evidence of ink marks on my face before i sent that. it would have been more exciting if they were in other places. then again, i make it a habit not to randomly send pictures of my tits to people when they're with their mother, so there's that. i wouldn't want her to die from how low-brow that is.
[ holding a grudge against a woman she's never met for classist opinions? absolutely. ]
stop sounding so bourgeoise for two seconds or i'll throw you off of a yacht. well, zoya has throwing things. you have imaginary rants that are going to erupt out of you like a volcano at some point. what happened to scribbling on pictures? bring your brother's. i'll make it into a masterpiece.
Edited (i'm dying at how late i'm noticing my embarrassing brainfart typos) 2021-01-10 03:59 (UTC)
[ he covers his face with one hand both to stifle a laugh and to get the image of alina's tits out of his brain. not while his mother is still standing in the doorway, telling him to get his feet off the throw pillows. ]
thank you for thinking of my mother's stony heart. that's the mark of a true friend. what is your criteria for sending those types of pictures, may i ask? for curiosity's sake.
it wouldn't accomplish much. i'm an excellent swimmer and a lover of all things nautical. with zoya and i covered, it's only fair if you share your methods as well. and mal's, i suppose. i should collect some intel on that front, shouldn't i? for the sake of being an excellent friend. i'm still interested in scribbling. i'll just take one of vasily's portraits off the wall. would you prefer a photograph or a painting? we have both. and yes, i'm aware of how bourgeoise that also sounds. i'll find some way to make amends for who i am.
π saving us both from a salty thot known as captcha
it's mostly for your sake. so she doesn't either keel over or throttle you for how scandalizing it is. my criteria is a nicely worded request from someone i want to see my tits. does that satisfy your curiosity, nikolai?
[ "boldly dangerous flirting" should likely not be allowed in the presence of mothers, either, but. here she is. ]
well, i'm not looking to drown you to death. just a little flailing and embarrassment on your part would do, but i bet you look annoyingly good even when you've been half-drowned. you've seen mal's coping methods, by the way. mine are more along the lines of "pretend this isn't happening until i eventually have a mental breakdown". or i just work on my art. depends on the day, but it's calming. that's so bourgeoise that it turned me into a marxist. can you take both? i need to take out my frustrations. also, i'd like to practice punching him before i do it in person.
somewhat satisfied. no promises i won't bring it up later, though.
[ he has never asked for those types of pictures from anyone in his life. let him process this new possibility. ]
i do look annoyingly good half-drowned. in any state, really. it's a difficult burden to bear, but bear it i must. so brawling and kissing are his coping mechanisms. i hate to say it, but zoya might actually be onto something with him. i hope that doesn't mean seeing him will become a daily occurrence of mine. i like your methods better. they're a bit more relatable. personally, i would prefer if you never met vasily at all. i can't imagine he'd enrich your life in any way. that's not to say i don't want you to meet my family, but i think i'd like to prepare you for that particular horror a bit longer, first.
i thought were a """"""gentleman"""""""" who doesn't bring up ungentlemanly things. in your own words, not mine.
[ yes, the sheer number of quotation marks is necessary to indicate how unbelievable that claim is. ]
you know, i always forget why i shouldn't compliment you, and then you remind me again. how does your head even fit on your shoulders? i get it - you and mal don't like each other. for whatever stupid reasons. anyway, it sounds more like you're preparing yourself for that horror. last i checked, i'm not a stripper or cocaine, so i'm safe in your brother's presence.
i promise i won't bring it up until i find someone you want to hear it from.
do you think my head is too big for my shoulders? i think the proportions are just right. correction: mal doesn't like me, likely because i'm clever and handsome and several other things he might not be. i, on the other hand, am very forgiving despite the physical damage to my property. you might be right. i'm not ready to face another family dinner just yet. he also likes humiliating people. namely me, and by extension, you, but i'm incredibly difficult to humiliate, so that just leaves you. i might go punch him right now just for making me think about this.
for someone that says they're so clever, you're either dense or just pretending to be. it's INCREDIBLY frustrating, just so you know.
it's so very mature of you to dislike him just because he doesn't like you. you're being a big baby. besides, you have working eyeballs. don't try to pretend mal isn't handsome. as attractive as punching vasily would make you, i have a better solution to your family dinners. run away from home and come back here.
i believe i warned you at the start that i can be rather vexing. but i'm still so enjoyable despite it.
i don't dislike mal. i find his brutish behavior to be a big hit with the crowd. everyone seems to love him, but rest assured they love me more. i have the advantage of being an excellent host. do you find mal handsome? more handsome than me? it almost sounds like you miss me.
is that a natural talent, or did you work on it over the years? maybe you should send me zoya's number. i think she might appreciate my pictures more.
saying you don't dislike him while you insult him is the opposite of convincing, nikolai. if i didn't know any better, i'd say you sound threatened. insecure, even. you're both extremely handsome in different ways. i'm giving you that cheap answer as a punishment for being vexing. if i admit i miss you, are you going to plan a daring escape?
natural. i'm gifted. now that's just not fair. zoya can't have both you and mal. that would be incredibly damaging to my pride, although i would still be very happy for my friend for getting everything she wants in life. but i have to ask β at what cost? the price is too high. i'm wealthy, but i'm not super villain levels of wealthy.
of mal? please. this conversation keeps taking riotous turns. insecurity doesn't suit me. it matches poorly with my wardrobe. besides, i'm happy to allow him to keep the title of having the thickest skull. an escape would be for the best. if i stay, i'll end up drinking again to sweeten my disposition, and tomorrow will be as awful as today. and i also miss you.
don't blame zoya. you brought this on yourself. i'm not confident in my ability to steal her from mal, though. why do rich people always assume everything comes with a price?
you're protesting a little too much to be believable, which means i'm right. your insecurity is almost cute, puppy. mostly it's just ridiculous. good. i was afraid that you would think i was needy, and then i'd have to avoid you and pretend i never said anything. consider yourself saved from riveting conservations about what wine pairs best with what cheese.
between you and mal? the choice is clear to me. it's like choosing between the stars and the mud. i don't know. i've never been anything other than rich. it's pure luck, really.
what's ridiculous is the thought of me having insecurities. on the contrary, alina. i like to feel needed. you've actually saved me from something much worse. my father wants me to switch my major to business. pre-law isn't prestigious enough, apparently. i owe you. i'll bring you a gift.
i must be the mud in this scenario. (see how annoying it is when iβm vexing on purpose?)
for someone in pre-law, youβre doing a terrible job convincing me. well, i donβt just need you here. i want you here. are you going to listen to him? because you shouldnβt. you donβt need to bring me anything, by the way. your company is enough.
oh, yes. i always meant to give him the name starlight instead of you.
i also like to feel wanted. and i have no intention of listening to him. i quite enjoy my studies. if anything i would add engineering and be a double major instead. my company is quite the gift on its own, isn't it? still, i'm bringing you something anyway. i might be nabbing a bottle of cristal for us to share as well.
i knew it. all of your insults about mal are just to cover up your real feelings about him. iβm going to cry myself to sleep about it tonight.
why donβt you? it sounds like thatβs your real passion, nikolai. and you deserve to do at least one thing that makes you happy. maybe you should borrow david from genya one day. inventions are all he talks about, when he does decide to talk. youβre incorrigible. iβll accept seeing the sunrise from your pretentious veranda as my gift.
i am passionate about making things explode. are you worried about my happiness? he sounds lovely. will you invite him to my winter nonsense party? although if you're right, i might just abandon you for him. your life will be forever changed, i promise. everyone needs a veranda. i won't be home for a bit, but i'll make it before dawn. can i steal you away?
is that why you're always harassing me? you're just waiting for my head to explode? you can't answer my question with a question. it's against the rules. so i'll ask again: why don't you? i'll bring him, but i'm not worried about being abandoned for him. i might not be able to compete with mal, but i can definitely compete with david.
you can steal me away. you can do whatever you want with me so long as you get out of there. it's not really stealing me away if i give you permission, though. it's just mutual kidnapping.
things, alina. not people. if you must have the truth, it's because i find the curriculum a bit restricting for what i want to do. i prefer to go off and pioneer by own way through trial and error. for the record, i wouldn't actually abandon you. i'd make you sit through our discussion and then you'd wish you would've abandoned me instead.
whatever you want is quite a heavy statement. what if that means i want to braid your hair and tie a little bow on it? what's off limits?
that's a fancy way of calling yourself a mad scientist. mad engineer. whatever. i could say it wouldn't hurt to just have the credentials, but you're a lantsov. you don't need the credentials to find someone willing to fund you. i'll just spend that time catching up on my sleep until you two are finished. your floor better be comfortable.
do you even know how to braid hair? do you just leave bows lying around? i have a lot of questions. just don't shave my head, involve me in any felonies, marry me off to your terrible brother, or murder me. those are fair limits, aren't they?
i prefer visionary. and i plan on charming my way into large sums of money. please. i would offer you the couch in my study. i'm not a monster.
alina, have some faith in me. of course i know how to braid hair, and i have plenty of ribbon lying around from wrapping christmas gifts. hm. of those limits i can promise not to do three of the four. that's a fair majority, i think.
i'll compromise with you: a mad visionary. should i start cutting out singles ads for lonely old rich widowers for you? so gentlemanly of you to take pity on future-me.
first of all, you just asked me a very ominously threatening question, and you expect me to have faith? second of all, i am a gift. (that's my nikolai lantsov impression at work for you.) if you ruin my hair and then murder me, i'll haunt you forever. just know that.
i suppose it's acceptable. please don't. my mother might get unsavory ideas about marrying me off. i've already established my gentlemanly character. you simply doubted it.
ergo, you need a ribbon. obviously involving you in a felony is the one i can't guarantee not to do. your hair and your life are otherwise in perfectly good hands. in any case, i should consider myself lucky to be haunted by such a radiant ghost.
oh, you suppose. i'm surprised she hasn't. she sounds like the type of mother who constantly drops hints about her friend's "very nice daughter". and then cries for an hour about how you haven't given her any grandchildren to traumatize, and asks "why are you doing this to me?" i like to put people through their paces. you have to earn your gentlemanly reputation in my eyes.
depends on the ribbon color. that makes sense. your entire existence is a felony. hmmm. flatterer. are you trying to charm me out of my money? joke's on you. i have none.
Edited (i forgot an entire ass word) 2021-01-16 05:42 (UTC)
she's done that. all of those things, actually. she's never approved of a single person i've ever cared for.
what color would you like? i could match it to your clothes, your shoes, your eyes. my eyes. whatever you'd prefer. life is more fun when you break the law now and again. i love to be quoted, but just don't quote that one when i pass the bar. so far i'm just trying to charm you enough for the pleasure of your company.
it's a bit scary that i haven't even met your mother and already know what she must be like. if you ask me, she could stand to spend less time and energy worrying about your family's reputation. or maybe she's bitter because she chose wealth and power over love. if that's what it is, i can't really blame her. that's a miserable life.
you're very generous with your bows. gold? i feel like being bold and mixing my metals. i'll do better. i'll put that quote on a plaque for you. and do you think it's working for you? i could tell you if it is, but i want to make you sweat a little.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
slips this in here bc i can already feel captcha coming to ruin my day
only on weekdays, and only with people who deserve it.
like a happy accident. or zoya knows exactly what she's doing.
[ she's very nearly on the verge of a defensive what does that mean, until — oh. his mother. her skin manages to, miraculously, pale and warm all at once. ]
and you say you can't write poetry. that was a lie.
i wiped away all evidence of ink marks on my face before i sent that. it would have been more exciting if they were in other places.
then again, i make it a habit not to randomly send pictures of my tits to people when they're with their mother, so there's that.
i wouldn't want her to die from how low-brow that is.
[ holding a grudge against a woman she's never met for classist opinions? absolutely. ]
stop sounding so bourgeoise for two seconds or i'll throw you off of a yacht.
well, zoya has throwing things. you have imaginary rants that are going to erupt out of you like a volcano at some point.
what happened to scribbling on pictures? bring your brother's. i'll make it into a masterpiece.
ty for moving this
thank you for thinking of my mother's stony heart.
that's the mark of a true friend.
what is your criteria for sending those types of pictures, may i ask?
for curiosity's sake.
it wouldn't accomplish much. i'm an excellent swimmer and a lover of all things nautical.
with zoya and i covered, it's only fair if you share your methods as well. and mal's, i suppose. i should collect some intel on that front, shouldn't i? for the sake of being an excellent friend.
i'm still interested in scribbling. i'll just take one of vasily's portraits off the wall. would you prefer a photograph or a painting? we have both. and yes, i'm aware of how bourgeoise that also sounds.
i'll find some way to make amends for who i am.
π saving us both from a salty thot known as captcha
my criteria is a nicely worded request from someone i want to see my tits. does that satisfy your curiosity, nikolai?
[ "boldly dangerous flirting" should likely not be allowed in the presence of mothers, either, but. here she is. ]
well, i'm not looking to drown you to death.
just a little flailing and embarrassment on your part would do, but i bet you look annoyingly good even when you've been half-drowned.
you've seen mal's coping methods, by the way. mine are more along the lines of "pretend this isn't happening until i eventually have a mental breakdown".
or i just work on my art. depends on the day, but it's calming.
that's so bourgeoise that it turned me into a marxist. can you take both? i need to take out my frustrations.
also, i'd like to practice punching him before i do it in person.
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no promises i won't bring it up later, though.
[ he has never asked for those types of pictures from anyone in his life. let him process this new possibility. ]
i do look annoyingly good half-drowned.
in any state, really. it's a difficult burden to bear, but bear it i must.
so brawling and kissing are his coping mechanisms.
i hate to say it, but zoya might actually be onto something with him. i hope that doesn't mean seeing him will become a daily occurrence of mine.
i like your methods better. they're a bit more relatable.
personally, i would prefer if you never met vasily at all.
i can't imagine he'd enrich your life in any way.
that's not to say i don't want you to meet my family, but i think i'd like to prepare you for that particular horror a bit longer, first.
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in your own words, not mine.
[ yes, the sheer number of quotation marks is necessary to indicate how unbelievable that claim is. ]
you know, i always forget why i shouldn't compliment you, and then you remind me again. how does your head even fit on your shoulders?
i get it - you and mal don't like each other. for whatever stupid reasons.
anyway, it sounds more like you're preparing yourself for that horror.
last i checked, i'm not a stripper or cocaine, so i'm safe in your brother's presence.
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do you think my head is too big for my shoulders?
i think the proportions are just right.
correction: mal doesn't like me, likely because i'm clever and handsome and several other things he might not be. i, on the other hand, am very forgiving despite the physical damage to my property.
you might be right. i'm not ready to face another family dinner just yet.
he also likes humiliating people. namely me, and by extension, you, but i'm incredibly difficult to humiliate, so that just leaves you.
i might go punch him right now just for making me think about this.
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it's INCREDIBLY frustrating, just so you know.
it's so very mature of you to dislike him just because he doesn't like you. you're being a big baby.
besides, you have working eyeballs. don't try to pretend mal isn't handsome.
as attractive as punching vasily would make you, i have a better solution to your family dinners.
run away from home and come back here.
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but i'm still so enjoyable despite it.
i don't dislike mal. i find his brutish behavior to be a big hit with the crowd.
everyone seems to love him, but rest assured they love me more. i have the advantage of being an excellent host.
do you find mal handsome? more handsome than me?
it almost sounds like you miss me.
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maybe you should send me zoya's number. i think she might appreciate my pictures more.
saying you don't dislike him while you insult him is the opposite of convincing, nikolai.
if i didn't know any better, i'd say you sound threatened. insecure, even.
you're both extremely handsome in different ways. i'm giving you that cheap answer as a punishment for being vexing.
if i admit i miss you, are you going to plan a daring escape?
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now that's just not fair. zoya can't have both you and mal.
that would be incredibly damaging to my pride, although i would still be very happy for my friend for getting everything she wants in life.
but i have to ask β at what cost?
the price is too high. i'm wealthy, but i'm not super villain levels of wealthy.
of mal? please. this conversation keeps taking riotous turns.
insecurity doesn't suit me. it matches poorly with my wardrobe.
besides, i'm happy to allow him to keep the title of having the thickest skull.
an escape would be for the best. if i stay, i'll end up drinking again to sweeten my disposition, and tomorrow will be as awful as today.
and i also miss you.
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i'm not confident in my ability to steal her from mal, though.
why do rich people always assume everything comes with a price?
you're protesting a little too much to be believable, which means i'm right.
your insecurity is almost cute, puppy. mostly it's just ridiculous.
good. i was afraid that you would think i was needy, and then i'd have to avoid you and pretend i never said anything.
consider yourself saved from riveting conservations about what wine pairs best with what cheese.
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it's like choosing between the stars and the mud.
i don't know. i've never been anything other than rich.
it's pure luck, really.
what's ridiculous is the thought of me having insecurities.
on the contrary, alina. i like to feel needed.
you've actually saved me from something much worse. my father wants me to switch my major to business.
pre-law isn't prestigious enough, apparently.
i owe you. i'll bring you a gift.
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for someone in pre-law, youβre doing a terrible job convincing me.
well, i donβt just need you here. i want you here.
are you going to listen to him? because you shouldnβt.
you donβt need to bring me anything, by the way. your company is enough.
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i always meant to give him the name starlight instead of you.
i also like to feel wanted.
and i have no intention of listening to him. i quite enjoy my studies.
if anything i would add engineering and be a double major instead.
my company is quite the gift on its own, isn't it?
still, i'm bringing you something anyway.
i might be nabbing a bottle of cristal for us to share as well.
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iβm going to cry myself to sleep about it tonight.
why donβt you? it sounds like thatβs your real passion, nikolai.
and you deserve to do at least one thing that makes you happy.
maybe you should borrow david from genya one day. inventions are all he talks about, when he does decide to talk.
youβre incorrigible.
iβll accept seeing the sunrise from your pretentious veranda as my gift.
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i am passionate about making things explode.
are you worried about my happiness?
he sounds lovely. will you invite him to my winter nonsense party? although if you're right, i might just abandon you for him.
your life will be forever changed, i promise. everyone needs a veranda.
i won't be home for a bit, but i'll make it before dawn.
can i steal you away?
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you can't answer my question with a question. it's against the rules. so i'll ask again: why don't you?
i'll bring him, but i'm not worried about being abandoned for him. i might not be able to compete with mal, but i can definitely compete with david.
you can steal me away. you can do whatever you want with me so long as you get out of there.
it's not really stealing me away if i give you permission, though. it's just mutual kidnapping.
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if you must have the truth, it's because i find the curriculum a bit restricting for what i want to do.
i prefer to go off and pioneer by own way through trial and error.
for the record, i wouldn't actually abandon you. i'd make you sit through our discussion and then you'd wish you would've abandoned me instead.
whatever you want is quite a heavy statement.
what if that means i want to braid your hair and tie a little bow on it?
what's off limits?
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i could say it wouldn't hurt to just have the credentials, but you're a lantsov. you don't need the credentials to find someone willing to fund you.
i'll just spend that time catching up on my sleep until you two are finished. your floor better be comfortable.
do you even know how to braid hair? do you just leave bows lying around? i have a lot of questions.
just don't shave my head, involve me in any felonies, marry me off to your terrible brother, or murder me. those are fair limits, aren't they?
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and i plan on charming my way into large sums of money.
please. i would offer you the couch in my study. i'm not a monster.
alina, have some faith in me. of course i know how to braid hair, and i have plenty of ribbon lying around from wrapping christmas gifts.
hm. of those limits i can promise not to do three of the four.
that's a fair majority, i think.
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should i start cutting out singles ads for lonely old rich widowers for you?
so gentlemanly of you to take pity on future-me.
first of all, you just asked me a very ominously threatening question, and you expect me to have faith?
second of all, i am a gift. (that's my nikolai lantsov impression at work for you.)
if you ruin my hair and then murder me, i'll haunt you forever. just know that.
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please don't. my mother might get unsavory ideas about marrying me off.
i've already established my gentlemanly character. you simply doubted it.
ergo, you need a ribbon.
obviously involving you in a felony is the one i can't guarantee not to do.
your hair and your life are otherwise in perfectly good hands.
in any case, i should consider myself lucky to be haunted by such a radiant ghost.
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i'm surprised she hasn't. she sounds like the type of mother who constantly drops hints about her friend's "very nice daughter".
and then cries for an hour about how you haven't given her any grandchildren to traumatize, and asks "why are you doing this to me?"
i like to put people through their paces. you have to earn your gentlemanly reputation in my eyes.
depends on the ribbon color.
that makes sense. your entire existence is a felony.
hmmm. flatterer. are you trying to charm me out of my money?
joke's on you. i have none.
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she's never approved of a single person i've ever cared for.
what color would you like?
i could match it to your clothes, your shoes, your eyes. my eyes.
whatever you'd prefer.
life is more fun when you break the law now and again.
i love to be quoted, but just don't quote that one when i pass the bar.
so far i'm just trying to charm you enough for the pleasure of your company.
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if you ask me, she could stand to spend less time and energy worrying about your family's reputation.
or maybe she's bitter because she chose wealth and power over love. if that's what it is, i can't really blame her. that's a miserable life.
you're very generous with your bows.
gold? i feel like being bold and mixing my metals.
i'll do better. i'll put that quote on a plaque for you.
and do you think it's working for you? i could tell you if it is, but i want to make you sweat a little.
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