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#vera my beloved
lucky-peenut · 11 months
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Ive been obsessed with @mandalhoerian No Time to Die, Vera is such a babe. I don't know if I want to be her or be with her. Have some art of her.
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@social-mockingbird is the only who truly understood Top Gun: Maverick and I will not be taking questions.
Exhibit A: Conversation we just had
Vera: Hangman would blare Classic by MKTO in his plane and would also sing it obnoxiously to his girl with a big grin on his face, thank you for coming to my TED talk
Me: He absolutely would and would turn up even louder any time someone complained
V: "Sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of this ABSOLUTE BANGER"
M: People begin trying to purge the adjective "classic" from their vocabularies for fear of impromptu performances
V: Yes exactly
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countbezukhov · 2 years
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War And Peace Characters + History of the Entire World, I Guess screenshots part 2 [1]
Vasili Kuragin:
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Vera Rostova:
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Count Kirill Vladimirovich Bezukhov:
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Amélie Bourienne:
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Prince Nikolai Andreevitch Bolkonsky
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Vasily Denisov:
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General Kutuzov:
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lost-kiwi-dev · 2 years
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gem, your novel sounds so interesting! now i’m debating whether i should make my supposed if a novel too lmao. but then again, making ifs and playing through them are very exciting. —vera
thank you so much, i'm really happy writing it :) but oh no, don't let me change your plans 😫!
IF is a lot of work and that's one thing i didn't consider when i started writing mine - just how long it would take to get through one scene because of all the different variables. that's what i'm loving about going back to "traditional" story writing, that i'm able to write pretty continously and fast!
i totally agree with you though, IF is so much more exciting and engaging for readers. massive props to all the work authors put into their games 🥳 can't wait to see what you decide to do with yours, vera!! 💙
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wervinsky · 9 months
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our pro gamers team (neither of us can play)
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soundlessdragon · 3 months
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Just gave myself the gnarliest little burn, heard my skin hiss and saw it immedietly warp upon contact of *thing that was not supposed to be that hot*
Kinda neat but also still hurts a lot 30 minutes later 🥲 it's just one big bubble now and the rest of my finger around it is turning red
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wotchergiorgia · 10 months
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prague, tuesday 17th august 1920
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franz kafka, letters to milena
[text ID: do not let yourself be scared away from me - if it is at all possible in this unsteady world (where, when one is torn away, one is simply torn away and can't do anything about it) - even if I disappoint you once or a thousand times or right now or perhaps always right now.]
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ghostedrider · 2 years
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commission for @/mishaverini on twit!!!!!
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kbots · 5 months
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been depressed lately so i wrote a new verawocky <3
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griffin-wood · 5 months
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— pov: bereal-ing with your bestie.
eden chan and ivy meadows, for @beyondthegame & @merrycrisis-if
(template)
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day0fnight · 2 months
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• apologies for the lack of posts lately, i came down with a nasty cold but i just wanted to share this gift my mother got me! they’re so cute :,3
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skullssy · 9 months
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Been playing PGR again and 21 and Vera are easily my two faves so far, love them so much
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rinchdressing · 1 year
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more old drawings from twitter
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onwesterlywinds · 7 months
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PROMPT #12: Dowdy
The captain of the Queensguard knocked on her door for the third time with far more forceful insistence.
"If you don't come out from there in two minutes," she snapped, "it'll be my head on the line."
Vera's lord husband was a patient man in many respects, but he did not abide tardiness in any form - unless, of course, it came directly from the emperor. Every bell of his schedule was accounted for; he even blocked out time for how long it would take him to traverse the corridors of the palace. He had expected the same discipline in Vera ever since their wedding, the same rigid punctuality, and would make it quite clear to her whenever she failed in his eyes.
And despite their name, the Queensguard very much reported to the viceroy.
"I'm finishing my makeup," Vera explained for the umpteenth time.
The doorknob rattled - then there came the sound of the inevitable key scraping in the lock, and the door flew open. Fordola stormed in with all the fury of an invader. "You've been 'finishing your makeup' for twenty bloody minutes. I've watched you do it in under five most mornings this week."
"Sometimes, believe it or not," said Vera, unable to keep her voice from rising, "people make mistakes. And outside of washing one's entire face, mistakes in kohl are not so simple to undo." Even now, she had to hope that no one would look too closely at the slight smear under her right eye.
Fordola levied one of her signature scoffs and crossed her arms over her chest. "Enough of this. You look fine - beautiful, even." The venom in her voice made it clear what she thought of such a distinction. "Is that what you need to get your arse moving, my lady?"
"I need," said Vera, "just another moment of silent concentration. Before my hand slips again."
Blessedly, Fordola gave it to her, and without any of the huffing Vera had come to expect. With only another couple of strokes of her brush and a single line of her pencil, she was finished, her shadows perfectly balanced. "And there we have it. I'm ready."
But Fordola did not move. She continued staring at Vera, and herself, in the ornate desktop mirror that had allegedly once belonged to Mad King Theodoric's mother. "Why even bother?" she muttered.
"What?"
At first, Vera could only interpret her words as referring to her impending meeting with the viceroy in the throne room. Then she saw where Fordola's gaze had fallen: to the ceramic bowl of kohl powder atop the table, its lid still off to one side.
"Don't be daft. I know you hear what they say about you - Livia and all the rest. You'll never be Garlean enough for any of them. It's why His Radiance married you off and dumped you here."
Vera did not stand from her stool. She stared back into the mirror at Fordola's face, at the bitterness clenched in the curve of her mouth, and realized only then that she could not find it in herself to be angry at Fordola for the words she parroted. "I don't wear makeup to look Garlean, Fordola," she said. "Besides, it was Ala Mhigans who invented it."
The young captain could only stare at her, as if she had spoken in some language that belonged to neither of them.
"Thousands of years ago, we wore eyeliner and eye shadow to protect our vision from the sun and, yes, intimidate our enemies on the battlefield. From our ancestors, it spread to Thavnair and Ul'dah through trade. Only now that the Garleans have deemed it a luxury do they think themselves the arbiters of its use." She made to pick up her brushes, to set the lid back onto the kohl, and hesitated at the look on Fordola's face. "…You should try it. See how you like it."
"Absolutely not," she snapped.
"I think it would suit your features."
Something in that statement stunned Fordola enough for Vera to guide her onto the makeup stool. For Fordola, she scarcely needed a plan: she employed bold strokes above and below the eyes, traditional yet masculine in a way that made her irises seem to shine with the same colors as the tattoo upon her cheek. She was finished within a matter of seconds, not minutes; all the same, Fordola took only a moment to admire herself before standing with a scowl. "We're late. And now everyone will see the reason why."
"Or," Vera shot back, "they'll see we look like warriors."
All the same, they rushed to the throne room with as quick of a stride as they could muster, turning the heads of the guards more for their haste than their aesthetics.
The viceroy sat upon the throne, much as he usually did at that hour of the day, and the first petitioner had already been granted admission. His words faded into silence as she approached, until the echoes of her heels against the polished tile filled the chamber.
"Vera," said Gaius van Baelsar. "My instructions were for you to join me for petitions at noon. The time is now twelve minutes past."
Behind his shoulder, Gaius' Undercity minder sneered at her. The prick in red armor whose name she could never remember whispered something to Livia, who bit back a snort of laughter.
Vera readjusted her stance, trying to channel every ilm of her father's posture. "I was tending to an urgent personal correspondence."
Gaius' brow furrowed. "More urgent than your attention to your people? The people for whom you and I are responsible?"
She turned back to the Ala Mhigan man standing, his hands clasped together in front of him, at the foot of the throne. "…No," she conceded. "I apologize, my lord."
But Gaius said nothing in reply, and merely gestured to the man before them.
To him, Vera inclined her head. "I apologize, countryman-" It would have to do, as she had arrived too late to hear his official imperial rank. "-that other matters prevented my timely presence."
The wording was petty, and she knew it; later, she would hear an entire lecture from her lord husband on accountability, and the burden of rule. There would be entire missives sent to Solus and her father about her impertinence, and her selfishness, and a host of other imagined failings. For the time being, Gaius merely sighed and said, "Fordola."
"Yes, ser."
"…See that vanity is removed from her daily schedule."
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deputy-buck · 1 year
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🇪🇨
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lishenism · 11 months
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i am slowly but surely getting this fic done…. pls be patient with me i swear it will be worth it
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