Becky, 23, Chelmsford, Essex, UK
College graduate in Business. Published Poet. wannabe Historian (currently working on a novel set in the 14th Century), Clerical Assistant, soon to be studying BA History

“I like people too much or not at all. I’ve got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.”

"“I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life. And I am horribly limited.”

my boyfriend, late nights & early mornings, cigarette smoke, english pubs, jack daniels, flat shoes, thick tights, winter, festivals, fashion, music, reading, the battle of hastings, harold godwineson, the tudor era and the victorian ere, game of thrones, jon snow, max irons, king edward III, vintage clothes
Curling his hands into fists, Edward recalled a rare memory of sitting on his father’s knee; his mother close by; her feet curled up beneath her, her eyes raking the sheaves of a manuscript, her musical voice reading aloud to the tapestried chamber. It had been an old romance tale about King Arthur and the beautiful Queen Gwenhwyfar. At the time he had thought it foolish for a King to love a woman; to die for her; to fight for her; to value her opinion, but now as he thought of his beloved Philippa, he knew how Arthur must have felt. Arthur had had the Saxons to fight off, and he, Edward, had the bastard French to contend with.
Would there be a great battle like Camlann to decide who would be victorious?

me - first edit

(when King Philip confiscated the duchy of Aquitaine - 24th May 1337)

Johnny Depp and Kate Moss, rare photos of Hollywood by Michael White.

<3 love

According to the boy, i look like a Victorian teacher..

:D - please check it out



songs by florence and the machine make me feel like i need to run barefoot through a misty forest wearing a flower crown

(via deerlion)

“I caught this whore stealing from the baggage-trains,”
His voice was harsh like a crow’s cry and William, feeling for his own weapon, clasped his hands over the hilt.
“Release her, she arrived with me,”
“She’s a thieving whore and needs to be punished,”
Spitting towards Mary who was still cowering in the grass, her hands covering her modesty, he grabbed at her arm and yanked her upright.
Her eyes were as wide as trenchers and crying out as the knight squeezed her forearm with a gauntleted hand, she fixed her famous gaze upon William, a gob of phlegm tricking down her cheek.
━ me - third edit

and the Roberta Waterbury saga continues.

As the candle burned, the wax melting at the heat of the flame, Joan felt her body beneath her gown grow warmer and warmer as Mary concluded, the latter’s creamy hands providing the actions that a woman used to snatch a man.
“You do that my Lady, and your King will not leave your side for as long as he lives… except to go to confession of course!”
Slapping her leg; guffawing, the maid almost fell within the depths of the bed, and Joan; her cheeks aflame, managed a throaty chuckle.
If she performed as such for a man, she’d also be going to confession.
━ me - 2nd draft
Here was a man who had wielded indescribable power once his shackles had been broken; ordering the Mortimer to be strung up like a Christmas goose, overlooking the Queen Isabella’s screams as her lover was arrested before her very eyes at Nottingham, closing his eyes at the harrying of the Scotch plains till naught was left but pulpy remains, a dying wind and mounds of savaged, looted unrecognisable men.
━ me - 2nd draft


*looks at fictional character* nobody loves u more than me

(via jjacksonwhittemore)