.
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
ifproofwereneeded
He turned at the echo of a SHOUT, letter in his hand folding over from fingers that fell LAX. Twice, his name broke the otherwise still air, but he needn’t a THIRD before the parchment was cast upon his desk and he made for the door. Stepping out, brisk and with PURPOSE, Ross pinpointed his wife before approaching her swiftly.
“In God’s name,” he breathed, brows stitching with concern. “What is the SHOUTING for?”
“Shhh!” No sooner had her husband reached her side was he promptly hushed. Baby Julia nestled in her arms, she stepped so they stood side-by-side, nodding down at their child between them. “’ush now—give ‘er a moment.”
Rocking her gently, Demelza leaned her face closer to where Julia’s peeked out from a swaddle of blankets, whispering words of encouragement. “Who’s this, my dove? Is this who you wanted? Can you say it again? Can you say ‘daddy?’”
For a moment all the baby did was grin and garble, blankets shifting as she happily squirmed. But after a few tries a single word could be made out from her giggles, “Da...da-ddy!”
Demelza’s grin lit up. “Y’see? It’s ‘er first word! She was callin’ you.”
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
fire in her bones,
honey in her soul.
she’s sweet when
she has to be,
and fierce when
she needs to be.
iambrillyant (via wnq-writers)
Source: wnq-writers.com
“Ross!” the redhead called from the yard, tone urgent and shouts angled over her shoulder so as better to reach him inside the house. “Ross, you’ll not believe it! Come quick!”
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
warlcggan
there’s always a price
warlcggan:
Even though the sound of the Cornish countryside in her voice made him feel his insides cringing, he gave a charming smilethat didn’t quite reach his eyesin return to hers. “Then you must join me for a moment,” he invited much against his own reluctance, as his hand signaled for her to take the chair in front of him.
George looked at the woman, her messy hair and cheap dress, and couldn’t help but remember the image of her in the middle of a dogfight, dressed as a boy and covered in filth. From that, to a scullery maid, to the Mistress Poldark everyone in town talked about. All in a matter of a few years. His own family, on the other hand, had had to build their status for decades. And yet, a Warleggan and Demelza sat together, face to face. He poured some more wine into his cup and filled one for her.
Despite all this, he figured he could direct the conversation into something pleasing for him. “Tell me, do you find married life agreeable?”
While the rambunctious environment of the tavern, one of the few venues where Demelza had never felt out-of-place, was much preferable to a more polite setting, the notion of conversing on equal terms with a gentleman was foreign enough to give her half an instant’s pause. She was a lady now, she firmly reminded herself. Wild red tresses and a fraying hemline made that fact no less true.
And so she accepted the invitation with a muttered “thank you,” smoothing the faded fabric of her skirt over her knees so as to keep from fidgeting.
A nod forced her to brush a few strands of hair out of her face. “Aye, very much so. I’m very ‘appy—we are, very ‘appy,” she was quick to correct herself, hoping her slip had gone unnoticed. Those were thoughts she certainly wished not to discuss unless between her and Verity. “’Tis a different life than what I’m used to, but in the best o’ ways. I never minded the cookin’ or cleanin’, but now I been usin’ my time to learn to play piano notes and dance proper like. ‘Tis a good change.”
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
Poldark (season 1) + Ross & Demelza
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
bonhcmme
It had been so long since he’d head another voice— no, heard and listened. Out here the remoteness required him to have some contact. But for the past few weeks he’d rebuffed any attempts to draw him out. He ate, but questioned whether he should. He wandered the cliffs and eyed the constantly battered rocks below with envy and even longing. For the first time in a great while he listened, he heard— and something ineffable softened his features. And for a moment he saw another nervous child.
Resolutely swallowing whatever memories threatened to engulf him, he focused instead on the young woman before him. She was real, living, breathing. That she could not compete with a ghost was not her fault. A deep breath, then he answered. His English was halting in places, rushing ahead in others, and the accent announced immediately it was not his first language.
“Ah so it is help that you want from me?” Said as though he were astonished— but not offended. The idea somehow seemed new, though it was not. A revival, then. A reawakening of what, had he thought of it at all, would have assumed lost. A great weight in his chest eased its pressure ever so slightly. The door swung open further.
“I am willing, mademoiselle— but tell me first, what kind of work? What hours? You have where to live?” Pay was of course another question, but it would follow naturally from the others and was difficult to answer without them.
A breath of relief blew a few stray curls from her forehead only for them to fall even more erratically around her face. Her initial fears were quelled in that he didn’t rebuff one who could be mistaken for a waif at his doorstep. In fact, after she spoke the door opened wider, revealing more of the kindly man who’s eyes revealed experiences she could scarcely imagine. Demelza couldn’t help the hopeful smile that quirked her lips.
“Yes, sir, assuming it to be no trouble.” At his subsequent questions she took a moment to ponder. To uphold any sort of working arrangement would require careful planning; were Ross to find out not only would she be on the receiving end of his temper, but surely he’d demand the instant abandonment of her position.
“T’would ‘ave to be in the mornin’ ‘ours, while my ‘usband is in town. I be willin’ to do any sort o’ work that be fittin’. I be a capable housekeeper; I know ‘ow to cook and clean and tend a ‘ome, as well as carin’ for young ones and certain animals.” Not for the first time Demelza found herself surprisingly grateful for her hellish years at home with her father and brothers. Who would’ve thought that time would be a help to her someday: first with skills enough to work for Ross, and hopefully again now. “I ‘ope that’s not askin’ too much, sir.”
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
Competing Affections || Ross & Demelza
ifproofwereneeded
As expected, it took little more than Ross’s unabashed shout and shift into an upright position to rouse his wife from a slumber he imagined to have been just as PLEASANT as his own. She awoke with far more grace despite the commotion, blinking the bleary blues of her eyes into consciousness as the rest of her body stretched out what tightness had claimed her limbs in the night. In good spirits, Demelza remained. Shaken from charming dreams only to face the day as if it were just so.
Rather LUCKY for her. A husband awoken in a way just as startling had endured an effect rather opposite. And while Demelza granted him a sleep-riddled greeting and a minuscule touch of affection, Ross wasn’t deterred from a mood grouchy from more than just weariness.
He remained silent initially, as if his groggy mind was taking many seconds longer to comprehend what she had said. In reality, much of his focus was straight ahead, a glare set in the dark of his eyes that the wall opposite had done nothing to DESERVE. A short, strong exhale parted his lips like an over-dramatic huff, and it took his wife saying more for him to finally regard her again.
Her and the MUTT, it would seem. Nestled so closely, he had no choice but to address both.
“If I had WANTED to wake up alongside the creature rather than my wife, I would have opted to sleep on the FLOOR with him,” he said, voice thick with a generous mixture of morning fatigue and displeasure. The Poldark ran a hand over his face, fingers lingering at the corners of his eyes to rub the sleep still lingering in them. At Demelza’s continuation of the conversation, he eyed her again to watch the misplaced reward of a scratch to the dog’s chin. His nose wrinkled further.
Within a sigh marked by something akin to a GRUMBLE at its end, he fussed with the blankets still atop him, tugged them away from the furry body nearby. “If he had any semblance of a MIND in his skull, he’d realize such affections come from you alone.” He slid one leg over the mattress’s edge. “And be wise enough not to wake he who grudgingly permitted his stay in the first place.”
A touch of mirth crept into her eyes as she watched Ross’s stoic profile, leveling the wall opposite their bed with a glare not unlike the ones she caught him casting towards the Warleggans. Lucky for the both of them she’d long since learned to go along with his rapidly changing moods; this day was by no means the first that she had woken to her husband already dour as if offended by the very presence of a new day, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last.
Always Demelza preferred mornings where they both awoke with nothing pressing to call either of them away; where they remained tangled in both the blankets and each other’s arms, kissing and giggling like a pair of giddy young lovers. Such mornings were rare, but they accounted for some of Demelza’s most treasured moments.
At least mornings like this gave a bit of amusement in the early hours.
Her smile softened just so upon the realization that her own good spirits and pleasant wishes weren’t enough to shake Ross from his mood. She’d hoped a dose of affection would help lighten his spirit—perhaps enough to receive a bit in return—but it seemed that her husband was in no mood to cap off what was a fairly perfect morning in the redhead’s eyes.
Fully awake, blue eyes studied her husband as he spoke, brows furrowing as his groggy voice reached her from over his shoulder. When he began to move towards the edge of the bed she loosened her grip on Garrick enough to partially sit up, resting her weight on one elbow while the other remained securely around the dog’s middle. The blankets fell to pool at her waist.
Slowly she put together what Ross meant. Suddenly she was glad that he was facing away—it was all she could do to keep herself from bursting out laughing at the mental image of her stern and steady husband startling awake like a child in the night at the sight of Garrick laying across from him. Despite her best efforts, a few snickers slipped out between lips pressed into a firm line. The corners of her mouth trembled as she desperately tried to school her features into an expression befitting a concerned wife.
“So ‘ee gave you a bit of a start—’tis nothin’ to ‘old against ‘im, not really. I promised ‘ee wouldn’t wake you during the night—” Thankfully nothing had ever been said about what happened come morning, “—and we both stayed true to that. ‘ee didn’t mean t’ give you a fright.”
With a bit of maneuvering and an apologetic scratch to Garrick’s belly, Demelza nudged her dog until he jumped back down onto the floor, where he remained for a few long moments to stare woefully up at her before turning tail and going out into the hall. Now free to move about she sat up fully, scooting over to sit just behind her husband. She leaned into him so that her front pressed flush against his back, hooking her chin atop his shoulder. “’Tis your own fault for starvin’ ‘im of affection. A pet now and then is all ‘ee be lookin’ for.” She tried to catch Ross’s eye as best she could from her new position. “Even so, I’m grateful for you givin’ ‘im a chance.”
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
((Oh goodness, everyone, I’m so so sorry for being absent again. I’m just so overwhelmed right now with all my classes that I have had literally no time to do hardly anything for myself. >< That’s the worst part about college: all the huge projects always end up being due all at the same time so you have to work on 3750893 things at once. It’s totally exhausting.
I promise no matter how scarce I might be, I’m not going anywhere! My muses are all still going strong, it’s just a matter of being so obscenely busy right now, and then being burned out from doing homework all day that all my motivation is gone when I actually do have time.
But I really am going to try to be online whenever I can—I can’t promise how often that will be, but I’m going to try my best. I really miss being active on all my blogs, and I hate the fact that I’m missing out on interacting with all of you lovelies, but unfortunately I’ll probably be slower until the end of the semester. ;o; </3
Thank you all for being so understanding and being patient with me! I can’t say how much it means to me. <3 I love all of you, and I wish luck and send love to everyone else who’s struggling to keep up with school and dealing with projects and finals! HANG IN THERE, WE CAN DO THIS. IT’S THE HOME STRETCH. VICTORY SHALL BE OURS. >3<9))
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
ifproofwereneeded
He had been smiling at first, hanging on to each word spoken with an impish air and vaguelyDREADING her holding him to them. A playful twitch canted his head to the side, and his brows lifted further at the means of “punishment” for his less than loyal actions a day prior. Now far enough apart to gaze upon her face in full, Ross regarded the light in her gaze with close attention. Peered down to the curl of humored lips.
Only to be audience to the way that fair smile faltered, FELL. And a sorrowful overcast tarnished her gaze shortly thereafter.
Gradually, his own demeanor claimed severity. The caulk of his lips parted as fingers often gentle gripped his shoulders with a force akin to DESPERATION. He remained motionless, however, aside from the furrowing of his brow when cracked words and TREMBLING exhales filled the air. Then, subconsciously so, the arm linked around her waist dropped.
“Good God, Demelza,” Ross said, voice hushed yet equally incredulous. “Do you not already know?” His eyes ventured once from hers, sideways as he rubbed a hand across his brow. When he spoke again, though, he rediscovered the crestfallen blues across from him, and that hand moved instead to cup her cheek. “I’m a RECKLESS man. With seldom the idea of telling the difference between what I want and what I NEED. And certainly no restraint for the prior. But when I say that I love you, that is because I’ve discovered NO difference.”
A thumb traced the ridge of her cheekbone, and a few stray fingers curved beneath her jaw. “You are ALWAYS what I want–who I want. And even more so the very wife I’ve come to need. If I stray, it is naught more than unruly impulse, that which contains no meaning and scarcely can hold a candle to you.”
The air thickened around them; had she not already been gasping for breath from the effort of quelling her dejection, she would’ve been forced to do the same in the wretched mood her words had brought. Now that she’d given voice to her worries, fears that had plagued her in varying measure ever since she’d become Ross’s wife, she found herself abandoned by all of her usual strength. The fire and stubbornness that she knew Ross loved about her fled in the face of the doubt that perhaps he didn’t love much about her at all any longer. It was a thought so horrible to entertain that her heart ached with every pound against her ribs. But what else was she to think?
“And ‘ow am I to know that I mean anythin’ to you after what all I saw?” A hand raised to where his own caressed her face, trembling fingers brushing up along his wrist to rest atop his knuckles. Instead of lacing with his own or giving a fond squeeze as one might expect, her wavering digits pulled his hand away. Already her skin felt cold at the absence, but her heart couldn’t handle such a tender touch. Normally she’d revel in any show of affection, but the terror of losing that same affection prevented her. Better for her to remove it now—were Ross to snatch back his touch as well as his love, surely she couldn’t bear it. “If anyone ‘as more faith in you than I, I know ‘em not, but ‘ow am I supposed to believe we ‘ave anythin’ anymore if you go wanderin’ and teasin’ and leadin’ on? Desirin’ other women ‘as nothin’ to do with bein’ reckless; it’s to do with bein’ ‘appy.
“I’ve given you all I ‘ave, and I love you more than a body ‘as ever loved another. And still I’m not enough—why am I not enough, Ross? If for whatever reason I ‘aven’t made you ‘appy, tell me. What can I do?” For no longer was their conversation about what Ross could do to atone. Now all Demelza cared to hear was what she needed to do to keep from losing the love of her life.
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
bonhcmme
He had come here to be alone. And perhaps, though it was an unconscious objective if it was one at all, to die.
The silence up by the cliffs was comforting. The waves shouted but not at him. Gulls cried; they were merely hungry. They sought nothing from him, asked nothing of him. That was well. He was but an empty vessel now. His soul was gone, buried in some English village and since risen to heaven. And so he had nothing left to give.
This wasn’t quite true. He still had his wealth, and though he had strayed in his grief, he still had the capacity to act in the interests of another human being. To help. His hands could still do more than turn the pages of books. That was all they were doing when the knock came. Only shallowly absorbed in the words, he nevertheless was slow to respond. He knew no one here. In his distracted state it barely occurred to him that the ease of his purchase of this cottage might stir up rumors.
But a memory knocked on his door as surely as his visitor, of a time when against all odds the door had been opened to him. Fighting against a leaden exhaustion, he set the book aside and went to answer it. He cracked the door an inch, leaning against the frame.
“Yes? What is it? Who are you?” The second question dulled the sharpness of the first, left an opening wide enough to get a foot in.
For a handful of uncertain moments Demelza waited and worried that she’d come at a time when no one was home. It would be just her luck. Admittedly she hadn’t thought this far ahead: what could she do if he wasn’t there? The thought of waiting near the front pathway was possible, if not unorthodox. Already she was nervous of offending with her dirtied hem and tousled hair; it wouldn’t do her any good to startle him coming home from somewhere.
Before she could stew further, however, her decision was made for her when the door creaked open—not as welcome of a sight as she’d hoped, given how the house’s owner barely peeked outside and gruffly inquired as to her business. Only then did she think that she should’ve at least sent a letter first. Now though her only option was to make as good of a first impression as she could manage.
“Afternoon,” she forced herself to speak up as she dipped into a slightly off-kilter curtsey. “Sorry to be botherin’ you, sir. My name’s Demelza Poldark. I live a few hour’s walk along the cliffs. I ‘ope I ‘aven’t come at a bad time, I don’t mean no inconvenience. But you see, I ‘eard word around Truro about a body who came ‘ere recently, livin’ on ‘is own up ‘ere on the cliff. I suspected that to be you, sir.”
The redhead paused, eyes dropping for just a moment as she gathered a breath. “I know you don’t know me, and I know I don’t ‘ave no place to be askin’ nothing of a stranger. But word ‘round the county is that you know where a body might come across a bit o’ decent work. I thought to ask if you might be willin’ to tell me.”
wordsnquotes
She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water, a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms, a cosy bed, and to love and be loved in return.
Source: wordsnquotes.com
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
warlcggan
there’s always a price
warlcggan
The Red Lion seemed to be quiet at certain moments of the day. He had scheduled a meeting with Francis at one of those lazy hours, and so when his companion left, George remained on the same spot enjoying one last drink and a moment of solitude, before continuing with his duties. What he hadn’t expected was to see the copper-haired woman Ross Poldark had taken as wife in quite a flamboyant way.
“Good evening, Mistress Poldark,” he greeted and bowed his head. It was unbelievable how someone of such a low class, could climb so high up society with only lousy efforts. “Have you come for a drink?”
An urge that she could only classify as nostalgia tugged the redhead into the doorway of the Red Lion tavern. Upon entering the weathered building Demelza was struck with an unexpected feeling of being out of place. The last time she’d been inside had been years ago: back when Ross had pulled her out of an angry crowd bent on killing an innocent dog—and no doubt his owner, had she kept fighting. But now she was one of the gentlefolk. In acquiring the name of Poldark she’d acquired a new status, a new way of life. She didn’t feel any different, and yet, she somehow was.
A fact that was only reinforced when an utterance of her name drew her bright gaze, and she found herself momentarily shocked that she could say she had the acquaintance of someone like George Warleggan.
Her smile projected more confidence than she felt as she approached his table. “And t’you, Mister Warleggan,” she greeted. Truthfully she wouldn't object to a serving of ale, but she didn't dare indulge in polite company. “I been shoppin’ with my cousin Verity for most o’ the afternoon, but she ‘ad a private errand to attend. We agreed to meet ‘ere before walkin’ ‘ome and I thought to wait inside.”
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
Poldark Stream 10/14
WHAT : Streaming Poldark episodes (s1 eps4&5) WHEN : Friday October 14th at 7pm US Central WHERE : Rabb.it (link will be posted day of) EXTRA INFO : A continuation of last week! Except only two episodes this time instead of three (since some people were having internet trouble by the third). We’ll start pretty promptly at 7pm and will go for about 2 hours, then. If you weren’t here last week but feel like joining in, you’re always welcome! Don’t feel like this is an event exclusive to those who were here last time. Come and go as you please. :D
wiyourheartmating-blog reblogged
ifproofwereneeded
“I reckon I haven’t the position to be PICKY,” he resolved, eyes sinking as the curve of her lips grazed over his own in a devilish smirk. The fingers pressed flat against his chest were met with an arm wringing around the small of her back, tugging her closer. “But I doubt they’re quite so DISTASTEFUL.”
The twinkle in her eye made it clear she was scheming—planning just how to exact her revenge. Demelza leaned back just enough to deny the touch of their lips, her gaze searching the ceiling as she made a show of considering what acts of devotion to make her husband perform. “Maybe I’ll ‘ave you take me dancin’ each night ‘til your feet grow sore. Though I’d ‘ope dancin’ with your wife is ‘ardly a punishment. ‘ow ‘bout you take care of bathing Garrick? Not just once o’course, that’d be too easy. No dedication in that. ‘Til the end of the month, then."
A moment passed where she seemed pleased with her sentence. But then the traces of amusement slipped from her expression. Her smile cracked around the edges; hints of the sorrow she’d tried to hide chased the light from her eyes, replaced it with threads of despair. Her hands moved to rest atop his shoulders, the curl of her fingers into his clothes revealing the fear that he might disappear were she to relinquish her hold.
“Truly, though, I know what you can do. Should be a simple thing for a man claimin’ to be in love.” Her words came in a solemn murmur, and she looked imploringly up into Ross’s dark eyes. “’ow ‘bout each day, you ‘ave to find a new way to show it. Could be sayin’ it different, or doin’ somethin’—don’t ‘ave to be anythin’ grand so long as it’s sincere. So long as you can manage that...” she let out a trembling breath before she could continue, “then I’ll know I ‘aven’t lost you. That I still ‘ave your ‘eart, just as you’ll always ‘ave mine.”