That is Rose Leslie. She is best known for her work as Ygritte in Game of Thrones, but appears in small roles in various BBC shows, and has recently appeared in the horror film Honeymoon.
I don’t care about themes and icons and aesthetics, I just like to write. I’m so happy that my RP partner respects that and doesn’t try to change me to fit in with what other RPers do.
“I’m the housekeeper, ducky,” she said comfortably, still smiling broadly. “Come now, out of the bed, there’s much to do and you’ve kept to yourselves long enough.”
Summer sighed, closing her eyes. “Maire, we were busy,” she said meaningfully.
“Sure, and don’t I know it, and aren’t we all pleased as punch for it, darling, but the sun’s high and the seneschal’s impatient, and so’s the seamstress.” The housekeeper pulled at the blankets, tugging them away. “I’ve brought you breakfast.”
“I thought I was a princess,” Summer muttered.
Isaac wasn’t entirely used to being naked around any other female other than Summer, and this housekeeper didn’t seem at all bothered by their appearance at all. In fact, he’d even go as far as to say that she was amused, and he didn’t quite know how to react to that.
“Excuse me — ” he intervened, before faltering and eyeing her skeptically, wondering just how far the gossip of their love-making would travel, and he frowned slightly. Reaching down to cup at himself as she whipped away the blankets, Isaac whirled to face Summer, wordlessly begging her to keep the servants under control, even if he did quite like this fussing, motherly figure.
Summer pleaded, “Maire, please go away,” scrabbling to pull at least one bit of fabric over them. “I promise we’ll get up. Just please go away?”
The housekeeper tsked, but somehow managed to bustle across the few steps to the door. “I’ll be back in half a candlemark, darling, see that you do. Don’t let the handsome lad distract you, now.”
And then she was gone, the door closed behind her, and Summer dropped flat on the bed with a huff. “Oh my God,” she said, half-laughing. “I swear I didn’t know she would do that, I promise, that wasn’t supposed to happen, she usually leaves me alone.” She peeked at Isaac. “Are you angry with me?”
The empath stroked the werewolf’s hair, easing fingers through the curls. “Shhh,” he repeated. “I don’t want to eat you up, then I wouldn’t have you anymore.”
“I love you so much, Summer,” he breathed out, relaxing slowly at the gentle caresses as fingers lightly threaded in his hair, and he pressed a kiss to the inside of his boyfriend’s wrist. “You’ll always have me, I promise.”
“Does that mean we can eat? Because I’m quite sure that being with you doesn’t make my stomach gnaw, and it’s gnawing.”
Derek was a little startled at the sudden hug and rush of emotion, though he caught her and tentatively patted her back soothingly, still a tad bit stunned at the force of her gratitude but glad he could help and make someone feel so thankful.
She frowned, unsure. She couldn’t remember if she liked coffee or not. Taking the mug from him, she peered into it, shrugging helplessly. She paid careful attention to how he made the coffee, handing the mug back. It smelled good, anyway. She stole the mug again after he filled it, and Isaac appeared, sleep-tousled, just in time to see her make a face and shove the mug at Derek.
Derek prepared it how he liked his, which didn’t take much preparation. He drank his black with spoonsful of sugar. Probably too much sugar, but it’s how he liked it. He handed her mug back over and laughed boisterously as she nearly spit it out. “W’as s’funny?” Isaac asked in a sleep thick voice as he came in rubbing his eyes. “Summer decided she wanted to try coffee black. How about another go with sugar and creamer? It might be better to you,” he offered, pouring Isaac’s mug and cream and sugaring it how he liked.
Summer gave Derek the most sceptical expression she could muster and put up her hands, making pushing motions at the mug. It had been bitter and harsh and she felt like something had died in her mouth now. Acquiring another mug from the cabinet, she poked through the refrigerator, identifying a carton that looked promising — milk. After a long gulp to wash the taste of coffee out of her mouth, she looked up at Derek, licking at the milk mustache.
