#1520 idk her

[realcatalina]

Hiding in our sight this whole time

I actually thought the engraving by Hollar was based upon some lost portrait...but since most engravings are mirror images(engravers could be lazy ...), i decided to flip it...the outfit fits almost perfectly. the engraving just misess the chest brooch.

But some of you probably already noticed that.

Yet i doubt even most observant of you noticed that this unknown woman might be in another sketch by Holbein. Maybe.

These two have serious resemblence:

This is probably the strongest resemblence among all of Holbeins sketches.

The one on left is pretty worn off in face area and because lighter colours were used, without any lines enhanced in darker colours. This makes us think these arent connected. Until you compare features one by one.

Angle is identical, but tilt of head tiny bit different. Woman on right has gaze tiny bit more downcast...which might have exposed more of her eyelids, and also slightly affect shape of her brows. Try it before mirror.

I enhanced some shapes on woman on left:

To make you realise she also similiar chin and shape of eyes as woman on right. Different colours and headwear play very big role here and might have something to do with eyes on right appearing bigger(maybe i didnt scale it 100% properly), the tilt shouldnt be causing that.

Could aging make her eyes bigger? Idk. I mean i don't know if % eyes take within the face changes. You of course overall get bigger as you age. But i wonder if perhaps just normal swollen eyes...account for difference. Not sure.

Yet the difference in size of eyes, alongside such strong resemblence could point also to very close relatives.

But size aside, can we explain different eye colour?

YES. We had this issue before with Tudor portraits...plenty of times.

With royals. Hazel eyes under differnet light can be brown or grey...significant difference even in real life, let alone portraits.

And they run in Henry's family, and seem to be his type...so among his wives too.

Woman on left wears gable hood in style fashionable between late 1520s to c.1538-1543. In past it was thought to be Catherine of Aragon or Eleanor Brandon.

While the other woman ix believed to be one of possibly marriage candidates from abroad, painted for Henry after Jane Seymour died, possibly sister of Anne of Cleves. Reasons for this assumption is the alleged bigger format(it is actually normal size for Holbein sketches...it is just that woman is sketched on lower part of drawing, instead upper part) and people believing woman is not wearing English clothes.

But actually this is English outfit. Mary Rose was depicted in such hat in 1510s. Coif beneath-worn in england.

Embroidered partlet-worn in england.

Cloak with slightly spread collar...worn in England.

It is true we rarely have portrait of women in cloak from England from Henry's reign. But it is idiotic to assume women in winter would walk around in same clothes as in summer. Fact that woman chose to be portrayed in it and puffiness around shoulder would suggest we likely indeed talk end of Holbeins career and fashion chaos of 1538-1543, because weather got colder-which affected fashion and ladies also experimented a lot during this timeframe.

While i cannot tell who it is, I just wanted to make you aware these two are likely connected.

Let me know what you think.

[fideidefenswhore]

Do you like Henry VIII? Do you think he loved other wifes that weren't his two first ones?

He is, how do you say, my silly rabbit...... /s

'Like' doesn't quite cover my feelings, in a nutshell, he is my favorite historical man to research...I think he had a lot of insecurities and it's interesting to track how those manifested over time. I find Wooding's recent assessment the most apt, that he at the least undermined, at the most destroyed, his own credibility/kingship & the perception of his own judgement of character, because those he raised the highest he also brought the lowest.

Hmm, that's interesting! Those are the two where his/their love is the most 'evidentiary', I suppose (and by evidentiary, I don't mean in how they ended, I mean evidenced by materials left behind that testify to demonstration of love before their respective downfalls...although, it has been interesting to observe that the 'all yours' locket has not received any rancor or skepticism, despite that its estimated origin is 1520, by which Elizabeth Blount had been Henry's mistress of years, whereas the 'for I am yours, forever' inscription received that in spades); although we should be cautious in how far we consider coronations to be demonstrations of "love", their main purpose was political (although we see observations of such made as an aside, "kissing her with great reverence and a joyful countenance", etc)

As for their successors, idk for "love", but he was the most demonstrably affectionate towards Katherine Howard (although...we also see how that turned out, so). Hopefully in the future some academic does a comparative chapter on her and Jane Seymour that's not counterfactual wrt to the latter, my surface-read is that he promoted more Howard relatives than Seymour ones, and KH also had more successful intercessions on an individual, case by case basis.

[triple-crab-death-grab]

GOOD MORNING GAY PPL! Blasphemous II came out so idk how quick the next character sheet will be. I gotta GRIND in I so I can play II asap.

TW for mentions of abuse, drug use, and cults

Only thing from this sheet not included is that Alice and Dimia are from the 1520s!

I think I put p much everything else I have to say about her in the sheet, but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SHE IS NOT A GOOD PERSON AT ALL SHE IS AN ABUSER AND A CULT LEADER.

[icantbelieveitsnotcanon]

So, because I’ve worked the finale up in my memory to be the worst event in television history, I’m rewatching the finale. Just to give it a shot. See if there’s any redeeming qualities I missed the first time around. (Also, I might be a glutton for punishment. Possibly.)

I’m like 4 minutes in and I’m already crying because Dean said “I don’t have a choice. This is my destiny” and I know he’s talking about the fucking pie fest but I also know that he dies in like 20 minutes and doesn’t have a choice about that either.

[realcatalina]

Why I don’t agree with identication of this portrait

In 1999 Christie’s sold this image as  Elizabeth Hart(born Peche), of Lullingstone Castle, and as by  Follower of Hans Holbein the Younger:

There is just slight problem. This fashion is from 1520s.

(The paste’s ends this small would be more fitting to 1530s, but two veils down on gable hood gradually stopped being fashionable in late 1520s. So I’m going to say late 1520s, max. very early 1530s-but that is truly stretching it.)

When two painters works at same time, they are contemporaries. One can be master and pupil, but here there is nothihg to suggest it was somebody from Holbein’s circle. It’s not by his fallower. You cannot claim all art with english gable hood is by/after Holbein! 

Another huge point: Elizabeth Hart was born in c.1452 and had children by 1490s. Either she is the youngest looking 70 year old or the identification is completely wrong. 

On wikipedia this image is also used for  Elizabeth Grimston, another impossible sitter-as she was born in c.1563.

Behind woman is text Anno E(shorter version of Anno Etatis). Unfortunately that is incomplete text, and painting seems to be cut on sides. Thus we don’t know how old the sitter was. (For example Anno Estatis 35 would mean sitter is 35 years old.)

We of course can’t tell who the woman is just from glancing by her. But I suspect it is poor likeness. How do I know? Because i think i’ve seen another painting by same artist(though idk the name of the artist, nobody does) and it is horrible likeness of Henry VIII(bellow on left). By this point he was not yet ugly!

I am of course not implying anything at all. Any resemblence you see is probably purely accidental. It’s not as if we had many other royal portraits who were mislabelled in the past. 

[icantbelieveitsnotcanon]

“Agents Singer and Kripke.”

[pocketsized-prophet]

It's why I've always said Dean's death felt more like Bury Your Gays than cas' ever did. Cas got to go out on his own terms via the consequences of his own choices. He chose to go out that way to save the man he loved. It sucked but it was at least authentic.

Dean was, as you said, stabbed in the back by monsters who cut their victims' tongues out. That is way more sinister and heartbreaking and nefarious than anything they did to Cas.

As soon as Dean was texually desired by a man he became expendable in the eyes of the execs. It's why 1520 feels like such whiplash and so hollow. They tried shifting the story back to the start instead of allowing the characters to go in the direction they had naturally grown in.

the simple truth of it all is that they knew dean would use his free will in a gay way so they had to kill him before he had the chance

[realcatalina]

OH! Tell me about the Somerley Portrait please!

IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL!

But the pose doesn't wholly feel in keeping with an actual portrait, more of a scene with a model.

I really really want it to be Margaret Douglas, but it looks like the sketches of (Aunty) Mary Tudor.

She's got That Neck. It bends round corners.

National Portrait gallery dates it as c.1520-1540, and the pose is not that far off from Jane Seymour's. (Just more fur is on display than the undersleeves). Kind of sideways, one hand showing way more than the other, though it doesn't look as by Holbein to me.

She's just looking in different direction and doesn't keep the entirely typical pose. Often the artist choses the pose, and some chose weird ones.

The neck seems unnaturaly long, and that is artist’s mistake. He didn’t get the proportions perfectly. But neither did many artists who portrait Tudors. Sort of as if it was tricky feature to capture. 

I am not expert on furs(maybe of some african cat), but I've seen such in other portraits, so that is consistent with the times.

As is the foliage instead of chest jewel(sometimes surounding chest jewel). Book(of hours) as prop is also pretty common in portraits, usually represents piety and education.

French hood is fairly simple and that could indeed be style of early 1530s or prior. Drapery at background would suggest 1525+.

(Hence if you’re asking me, if it could be Mary Rose the answer is no. I don’t think so, because by this time she’d look older.)

The light brown fur also lines the inner side of gown, and you can see that on edges. Lots of black chemise is showing and that is first red flag. 

There are actually two chemises, white is under black.

Black chemise was unusual in England by 1520s(but could occur), but main problem is that too much of it is showing. The gown is then located very low.

Hence the gown is of non-english style.

Margaret Douglas was raised in England, likely she'd dress English. So seemingly it should not be her. But not entirely impossible.

(Catherine of Aragon seemingly had reason to wear netherlandish fashion and yet she has portrait in it...)

This time we have likely explanation.

The copy of Margaret Tudor's portrait shows her with gown also this low-with two chemises showing(although different ration of how much of which chemise). So it could be more of Scottish style. Or Margaret Douglas attempting it. Perhaps Margaret wished to show her Scottish roots, perhaps her mother sent her such gown. Possibilities are there, I cannot rule it out.

Some resemblence in face of Margaret Douglas indeed is there:

But overall, we have nothing but face to determine who it is. We can speculate all day, but without other depiction to help to tie it to Margaret Douglas or period document describing this portrait as her, then we're stuck and can't say it is her. 

Yet we cannot rule it out either. And as I say, sometimes that is as far as you can get with identification of certain portraits.

Now you speculated if it could be Mary Rose, but how about looking at Margaret Douglas’ own mother?

Teenage Margaret Tudor(on left), in early 1500s, had also notably long neck:

(It wasn’t trait just of Mary Rose-who too lost it as she aged and gained weight, just as Henry VIII and Margaret did.)

And what is interesting, that from first glance it looks like it could be same girl. Pretty good resemblence, not just the neck but facial features.

Now is it mere conincidence or were these women related? Idk.

[elizabethan-memes]

Review: Sky History's Royal Bastards: Rise of the Tudors, episode 1

-A show called Royal Bastards and we have a whole episode and they DON'T explain the origins of the Beauforts- ie. the bastards of John of Gaunt. Smh. Why call it Royal Bastards if you don't explain the title?!

-Unless they meant Royal Bastards as in "he's a right royal bastard, that horrible man" in which case.... lmao.

-Please, cameraman, back up a little. I do not need to see the historians' pores.

-the DJ was going crazy for this episode with that dubstep beat. I kept expecting the Sardaukar throat singer to show up.

-the Duke of York is described as "crude" and "violent". I...don't remember any evidence of him being a patron of the arts, but I also don't know of any evidence of him being unsophisticated or more crude or violent than his contemporaries.

-Me keeping a tally of every time the f word is said in this documentary

8 times, although some of those were Edward IV's. The rest were all the Duke of York.

-Me keeping a tally of every time the word c*** was said in this documentary

3 times, two of which were Edward IV.

- I definitely think the writer watched Game of Thrones and assumed coarse language was how you make your medieval world 'gritty'.

-they called Margaret Beaufort "minor nobility"... I can't even. She was the daughter and only child of a DUKE. She was one of the wealthiest heiresses in England. That's WHY she was married to Edmund Tudor. That's WHY she married so young. She was a direct descendant of John of Gaunt! She was cousin to the king!

-Henry VI described as having "a mental breakdown"... wasn't he unconscious? So unconscious that he didn't acknowledge the infant son in his arms? That sounds more like a coma than a mental breakdown.

-Margaret of Anjou's headgear...

-good use of graphics. Not sure if better or equal to the graphics in The Boleyns:A Scandalous Family.

-MPs 'the most powerful men in the country' are they tho? I wouldn't say Parliament gets really powerful until Henry VIII. Feel free to correct me.

-"she's terrified the plague will kill her unborn baby" ...don't you think she'd be terrified the plague would kill HER? Since if she dies they BOTH die? You think plague only harms foetuses? Idk that line was weird.

-Teenage Margaret sassing Jasper Tudor we love to see it.

-they mess around with the chronology at first. The episode begins with the date 1453 but then we are shown Margaret already pregnant. Then we have backstory on 1453, then Edmund dies, then we have the battles of 1455, then it's 1457 and Margaret is giving birth. Why. You'll only confuse the casual viewer.

-one lady is in an excellent dress... if this were a documentary about the 1520s.

-this documentary is very pro Margaret of Anjou.

-I'm going to be a pedant: Richard Duke of York had his head on a spike not IN the city of York but ON its walls. Above a city gate IIRC.

-historians in this documentary, rather than examining the original sources in manuscript as they usually do, hold up photocopies of the sources. Which I find rather funny. Like:

-Edward Earl of March is described as a "brutal killer"... I'm not saying "war crimes aren't war crimes if you're cultured" but reducing him to his military prowess and implying he's a thug ignores key parts of his life, his legacy and his reign: his sponsorship of the arts, his talent for diplomacy, his charisma, his ability to charm people to his side. Making him a sweary bloodthirsty guy is a distortion of his character IMHO.

[alilyamongroses]

Y’know because Henry VII knighted John Seymour for his services against the Cornish rebels at Blackheath in 1497, and John Seymour was present at the meeting between Henry VIII and Francis I at the Field of the Cloth of Gold in 1520 and again in 1532, and Jane Seymour served Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn both as a lady in waiting - a comprehensive Tudor Dynasty show that stretched through both King Henrys’ reigns would have the narrative room to tell Jane Seymour’s entire life story if it cared to, starting at her literal birth. Idk. Maybe someday.

[whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk]

Thank you for the tag @c-e-d-dreamer !

Last song: Well I’m currently in work so technically the last song I listened to was Ed Sheeran’s new one on the radio (idk what it’s called, Eyes Closed I think?). But if we’re talking about the last song I actually chose to listen to, it’d be What A Catch Donnie by Fall Out Boy.

Last show: Shadow and Bone

Currently watching: I’ve been re-watching Buffy recently, instead of catching up on season 2 of Vikings Valhalla which I still have yet to finish….

Currently reading: I finished The Heroines by Laura Shepperson the other day and have yet to start something new so technically I’m currently reading nothing… but I’m planning on starting either Clytemnestra by Costanza Cosati or Lady MacBethad by Isabelle Schuler today!

Currently obsessed with: My Elizabethan Nessian AU. Give me any reason to trawl through the British Library archives and I’ll run with it, so I’ve been finding all sorts of documents about everything from 16th century sumptuary laws to accounts of the 1575 Kenilworth pageant. I’ve been reading both Leicester’s last letter to Elizabeth I and Henry VIII’s letters to Anne Boleyn for inspiration for Cassian’s letters to Nesta. Also, a gold heart-shaped pendant has recently been found that has Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon’s initials on and “all yours” inscribed beneath in French. It’s stunning, and inlaid with a ruby or garnet Tudor rose and pomegranate. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, and even though it’s been dated to around 1520 (and so 55 years too early for my AU) I’m tempted to use it anyway and have Cassian present Nesta with it. (He was originally going to give her a poesy ring but now I’m like…. Why not both????) Honestly I am having so much fun planning this fic, my little historian’s heart can hardly handle it.

I’m not sure whose already done this/already been tagged so… tagging: whoever wants it! ❤️

The post got quite long so starting fresh...

Get to know me meme! I was tagged by @melonsfantasyworld 🥰

Last song: You'd Never Know (acoustic) - Blü Eyes

Last show: Outer Banks season 3 (I love the silly little teens on their silly little treasure hunts)

Currently Watching: (trying at least) Shadow and Bone

Currently reading: Using Fejo by Victoria Aveline

Currently obsessed with: the idea of turning the story of Using Fejo into a Nessian fic. I'm only 4 chapters in, but damn if Fejo and Vanessa's first meeting doesn't scream Nessian! Also, the fics I have planned for Nesta Week. And my chaptered fics. And now I sound really self centered that I'm obsessed with my fics 😂

Tagging (with no pressure): @talkfantasytome @dustjacketmusings @moodymelanist @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk

[eleven-times-lively]

Girls in One Room

I saw your post and your local thot has come to the rescue :) ooh can you write a fic where it’s Hermione and the reader staying the summer at the burrow and Mrs Weasley is like girls in one room boys in the other no funny business and they just crack up because they’re secretly dating? I just came up with that on the fly idk if it makes sense 🤷‍♀️ @birdie-writes

Summary: You’re dating Hermione, and thanks to Mrs. Weasley’s rules, you get to spend the night together. Word Count: 1520 Note: This is Hermione x fem!reader! Feedback is appreciated! Also this is the last fic for July!

Hermione gave you a quick kiss before you walked up the path to the burrow. It was summertime and Ron had invited you, Hermione, and Harry to stay for the season. You lightly rapped on the door, and were greeted by a bubbly Mrs. Weasley.

“Girls!”, she welcomed you inside. “I wasn’t expecting the two of you to come here together,” she smiled at the two of you, sending your bags upstairs with a flick of her wand. “The boys are in the backyard, dears.”

You and Hermione thanked her, heading through the house and out to the backyard of the burrow. The sun shone bright over the vast field, causing you to squint as you stepped out of the threshold. “Harry! Ron!” you called into the vast expanse. Not moments later came rustling from the tree line as the two boys soon emerged. You and Hermione giggled as you were embraced in bone-crushing hugs. “Hi,” you laughed out, embracing Ron.

“It’s been too long,” he exclaimed, smiling.

“It’s been three days, Ronald,” Hermione jokingly rolled her eyes. The four of you sat in a small circle in the grass, beginning to chat and catch up.

“So, ladies,” Ron began, “How have you two… been?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to not seem obvious.

“Ronald we’re gay, not diseased.”

You snickered, wrapping an arm around your girlfriend. You gave her a peck on the forehead. “We’ve been great, thanks Ron. Hermione’s parents are really nice.” She gave you a warm smile as she returned the kiss.

“Well that’s nice,” Harry replied, “I’ve had to dodge stray bludgers and wayward pranks for three days.” He rolled his eyes.

“As if you don’t do that every day!” Ron retorted. “You knew what you signed up for!” You all laughed, feeling like you’d never left Hogwarts. 

***

The hours passed by as the four of you reminisced about the past year, and looked forward to the forthcoming school year. 

“The sun’s setting,” you remarked, yawning and leaning into Hermione’s side. She cooed softly in your ear in content. 

“Shall we take this inside?”, she remarked. Everyone nodded and the four of you made way inside. “Remember,: she said, directed at Ron, “Your mum doesn’t know about y/n and I.”

“I don’t get why,” he said lazily, “You know she wouldn’t care.”

“We know,” you replied, climbing the back steps, “But then we couldn’t share a bedroom.” You winked at Ron as you slinked inside, leaving him standing there mouth agape.

“There you all are!” Mrs. Weasley remarked when the four of you stepped inside. “Having fun?”

“Yes, mum,” Ron sighed as the four of you crept past into the living room. You were met with the rest of the Weasley clan.

“Well there they are,” Fred quipped. “Ladies,” he winked at you and Hermione, earning an eye roll from you. 

The four of you sat down in front of the hearth, enjoying spending time with the Weasley’s.

“So, y/n,” George began, “How’s summertime been? You were with Hermione, yeah?”

“Yes, George,” you replied, slightly annoyed, “It’s been fine,” you softened, “thank you.” Hermione smiled, reaching for your hand behind her back. She gave it a gentle squeeze, smiling at you reassuringly. 

Another short time passed as the four of you were asked various questions about your plans for the coming summer months.

Mrs. Weasley yawned, looking at the clock. “Heavens!” she remarked, “You kids had an eventful day, and it’s getting late. How about you head upstairs to bed?” The four of you began the climb up the steps as she shouted from behind, “Girls in one room, boys in another!” She paused for a moment, and quickly climbed the stairs to meet you in the middle. “Y/n and Hermione, with Bill here for the summer I’m afraid his and Charlie’s room is taken. The guest room only has one bed, I’m terribly sorry.”

“Oh that’s quite alright Mrs. Weasley,” you smiled at the kind woman, “We don’t mind.” She nodded, sending you on your way. You and Hermione snickered, running the rest of the way up the stairs to avoid the nagging of the boys. “Oh like you’d have a girl to shag in bed anyway,” you quipped to a disheveled Harry.

“Gross! I don’t want to hear about anyone shagging!” He yelped and ran down the hallway to Ron’s room. 

You and Hermione walked hand in hand to the spare bedroom, embracing once inside. Your hands came up to cup her face as you deepened the kiss. The two of you finally separated, staring into each other’s eyes for a moment. “Love you,” you whispered.

“Love you, too.”

The two of you unpacked all of your things into the drawers and closet, getting settled in for the season. Hermione sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, smiling at you. “Hi,” you whispered, flashing a goofy smile as you sat next to her.

She laughed lightly, pulling you into her side. “An entire summer together, y/n. How did I get so lucky?’

You hummed in response. “Even if we have to share a bed,” you sighed in mock dismay. You leaned up to kiss her. She reciprocated, grabbing your waist and turning you onto the bed. She hovered above you as she deepened the kiss. You hummed in appreciation, relaxing to her touch. “Hermione,” you muffled under her kisses.

“Hmm,” she responded, leaning down to leave a mark on your collar bone.

“Maybe not tonight, love. Perhaps any time other than our first night here?”

She giggled, hopping off of you. “Fair enough.” She nuzzled into your side, resting her head on your chest. “This will be a fun summer,” she whispered, cuddling in closer.

“Agreed,” you muttered, wrapping an arm around her. The two of you slowly drifted off to sleep, embracing each other and what was to come.

***

You woke up after Hermione, who was already out of bed. She was seated at the vanity, brushing her hair when she turned and saw you.

“Morning, love,” she smiled, resuming her brushing. 

“Morning,” you groaned, turning over and getting tangled in the blankets. After nearly falling out of bed you carefully padded over to her, crouching down and resting your head on her shoulder. “Love you,” you said, leaning up to kiss her.

She pulled away, fighting a smell. “I love you too, but you smell.”

“That’s fair, dear.” You looked in the mirror, giggling at your appearance compared to hers. She was already dressed and put together, meanwhile you had sleep-matted hair and morning breath. 

After freshening up for the day, you showed off your outfit to Hermione. You twirled, allowing her to admire you and your sundress.

“Beautiful, as always.” She smiled, standing up and walking over to you. She wrapped her arms around your waist, giving you a quick kiss. “It’s quite late, shall we head downstairs?”

“We shall,” you replied, giving her another kiss before leading her down the steps.

You were met with the loud bunch of Weasleys crowded around the breakfast table.

“There you girls are!” Mrs. Weasley smiled at the two of you, beckoning you over and passing two full plates down. 

After breakfast you and your three friends ventured outside of the house. Mrs. Weasley had allowed the four of you out to explore Diagon Alley for the day. Once apparating to the center of the town, you and Hermione linked hands.

“So, boys,” you began as you were all walking, “How did you both sleep last night?”

“Oh, great,” Harry said, sarcasm poking through his tone. “Ron’s snoring was absolutely lovely.”

“Hey!” Ron interjected, “I do not snore! If anything, it’s you that snores. But I’m nice enough that I put up with it, and I don’t mention it to everyone.”

“Sure, Ron,” Harry chuckled. “How about you ladies,” Harry asked, “with your one bed?” He added in a wink for good measure.

“Quite pleasant, actually,” Hermione replied, giving Harry a polite smile.

“Bet they snogged till sunrise,” Ron whispered to Harry.

“Actually, Ronald,” you piped up, surprising him as he hadn’t realised you’d heard his remark. “We started with light kisses, which my wonderful girlfriend quickly turned into a full makeout session.”

“Absolutely,” Hermione replied, “And then in bed we-” She was cut off with the boys pretending to gag and run away. Laughing, the two of you shared a kiss and continued walking.

“You know,” you began, “I wasn’t expecting taunting the boys with our relationship to be part of our summer plans, but it certainly is fun.”

“Indeed,” she replied, giving you another kiss as she led you into the flower shop.

Inside you handed her a fresh daisy. “A flower for my flower,” you winked, absolutely knowing how cliche you sounded. She just chuckled and rolled her eyes, failing to hide the blush on her face. “Shall we go find the boys?”, you asked, paying and leading her out of the shop.

“We shall,” she replied, smiling as the two of you walked into the bright summer sunlight.

[jarvisisbetterthansiri]

Only Human - Aftermath

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader + some Tony Stark x Pepper Potts Word count: 1520 Description: Reader and Tony deal with the aftermath of sleeping together when he was engaged to Pepper. How will they deal with the guilt, and more importantly, the feelings for eachother? Warnings: *SFW* Angst, super angst, a lil bit of fluff, soft!reader + conflicted!Tony 

A/N: This is a sequel to Only Human (which is a smutty sex pollen fic, click here) but it can be read alone if you just want some good ole angst

---

The room is silent apart from the sounds of heavy breathing slowing to normal. 

Tony lets an arm drape over your body, an action that should be comforting, but then you feel it.

Warm metal on your skin. A ring, his ring, his engagement ring. The guilt comes then, and he feels you freeze, tears falling onto his chest.

What have you done?

---

Tony watched you stiffen, before scurrying away from him as if his touch burned you. 

He sits up slowly, scratching at his beard, guilt settling in his chest. Shrugging it off, he weighs his options. He could pretend it never happened - but he couldn’t do that to Pep, one look at her face and he knew he’s crack. He held too much respect for her. 

And then there’s you; the girl who managed to still get his coffee order wrong, the girl who would cover her face when she giggled at his ‘dad jokes’, the girl who looked into his eyes with the same adoration Pepper once had. 

The girl who had scurried away from the room with her blouse buttoned up all wrong, hair a tangled mess, mascara smudged below her eyes, clearly holding back tears. 

Tears because of him. --- Everything you ever wanted had happened. But...you didn’t want it like this. Yes, you had a crush on your boss. Yes, you daydreamed about what it would be like to be with him, just once.

But that was just a daydream. And the reality wasn’t something you were ever expecting to feel. You react the scene in your mind over and over, feeling the ache in your chest dig deeper each time. Then you feel the metal on your skin and it’s all you can do not to scream.

Homewrecker. That’s what you are. 

You wish you could just go back in time and do things differently. But you couldn’t, there was no way to make this better. An image of Miss Potts teaching you how to use the software on your computer flashes in your mind.

God, she was such a nice woman. And what had you done? Slept with her fiance.

You scrub your skin in the shower until it’s raw and painful. But you can still smell him, taste him. And you still want him.

---

Telling Pepper had gone as well as expected. Which was, understandably, not very well at all.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, she looked into his eyes, as if looking for a sign he was joking. And while Tony knew she wasn’t one to throw things or scream, he almost thought that would be better. Anything would be better than this.

One second passes. Two seconds. Three seconds. He feels her stare eat away at him, burning through his chest. Those glassy blue eyes hitting him like a sledgehammer.

“Are you even listening to me?” 

“I’m listening, Tony,” there’s a hint of vulnerability to her voice that he’s not used to, and it hurts more than he thought it would. “What do you want me to say?” He grimaces, “Anything.”

Then he moves closer to the woman he loves, sighing when she rejects his touch, “Say anything. Do anything. Just don’t take it out on-”

“Don’t say her name,” Pepper cuts him off, suddenly back to being cold, her guard up, no trace at all that she had been close to tears only moments ago. “Don’t you dare Tony.” 

Her face is harsh, and Tony can see the fine lines settling around her eyes. She was blaming you for this. 

Of course, it was blatantly obvious you’d developed a slight crush, but you were no seductress. If anything, he initiated it.

No. This wasn’t on you, it was on him - Tony folds his arms, “I mean it Pepper.”

“I have a right to be angry,” her voice is softer than his.

“At me,” he starts, desperately grabbing at her arms, urging her to look at him, “Not at her, she didn’t-”

“She slept with my fiance!”

“You know for a fucking fact it’s not like that!” Tony reacts before he can think, and regrets his tone instantly. 

The dam breaks and tears are now flowing hastily down Pepper’s cheeks, freckled face turning an ugly red. Tony wants to brush away the tears, whisper an apology, but she takes a shaky breath and steps away from his grip, “I can’t do this. You’re shouting at me, like it’s my fault you cheated.”

“Pep I’m sorry,” the pet name feels like barbed wire on his tongue, “I’m sorry. I just - I don’t know how we fix this.”

“Fire her.”

He shakes his head, “Pepper-”

“Move her to another office, Tony. And we can try to move past-”

“Please don’t do this,” now he’s the one pleading, searching in her eyes only to find hatred staring back at him.

But that’s all that she needs to hear, and all of the emotions catch up to her at once. Anger. Betrayal. A hint of jealousy. But more than anything, hurt. “You’re doing this, not me.”

Then without so much of a goodbye, Tony finds himself outside of his own home, with one expensive, shiny ring closed in his palm. And then he’s gone, walking away from the home he built with the woman he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with. 

---

Tony watches you through the glass door of his office; shoulders hunched, head hung low as you type at your desk. You’d handed in your resignation earlier in the day, before he arrived. There’s an atmosphere thick enough to choke on when you knock gently at his door.

“Your coffee,” you mumble, scurrying to place it on the table and leave as fast as you can.

“Y/N-”

“Mr Stark, please don’t,” you wave off any sparks of a conversation, and walk away, only to be followed.

Tony knows he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t run after you, he shouldn’t talk to you so soon after breaking it off with Pepper, and he definitely shouldn’t do this in a public office. But he couldn’t stand to see you so miserable, blaming yourself, too scared to even look at him, “Listen to me, you’re not leaving.”

“I have to,” you manage out, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in an attempt to stop from crying. God, you felt so stupid.

“Not over this. You can't let one mistake ruin your life.”

Mistake. Your hands tremble when the word leaves his mouth. That’s what it was to him, a mistake. “I can’t stay here. Pepper…” You trail off, voice thin and distant.

“Pepper already knows,” he sighs, “Look, this isn’t your fault.”

“It is,” you cry, louder than you anticipated. You feel the burning of your coworkers stares. Quieter, you breathe, “I was...it’s my fault. And I have to live with that, every day, and I feel horrible. I’m a bad person..”

Tony is startled by how distressed you look, and he places a hand on your shoulder, replacing it as soon as you shrug it off, not caring if people see. “No. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.”

“Please don’t be nice to me,” you almost beg, any composure gone at this point. This kind of attention was something you’d craved for as long as you’d known Tony. But not like this. You weren’t supposed to be some kind of homewrecker. But one look into Tony’s eyes has your breathing laboured, heart hammering in your chest. 

“I don’t want you to leave,” Tony feels unnaturally weak when he pulls you closer to his body, arms wrapping around your frame. 

Ever aware of your audience, you struggle against him. No, you shouldn’t...you didn’t deserve to be hugged. Tears spring to your eyes and a sob leaves your mouth before you can stop it, “You shouldn’t…”

“I don’t care. I don’t regret what happened,” he exhales shakily, trying to calm his anxiety when you look up at him, pouty lips pulled downward in confusion.

And fuck how he wants to kiss those lips.

He refrains, closely watching your expression, “Do you? If things were different, would you do it again?”

A gasp, but no answer. Tony brings a hand to your cheek, thumb gliding towards your lip, “Sweetie?”

“I would,” you whisper, ignoring every inch of your body telling you to lie. You don’t want to lie. You want him, despite the shame.

And fuck if Tony didn’t want you. He wanted you when you laughed too loudly at his bad puns. He wanted you when you were coming undone against his body. He wanted you when you were crying into his chest. He wanted you completely.

He wanted to be with you, to kiss you. So he does. He leans in gently and places his lips to your own in a soft kind of passion that has you reaching for his shoulders to stable yourself. But you push away, remembering your setting, only too late.

Murmurs. Shocked whispers. Clicks of cameras. And one very unmistakable strawberry head of hair hurrying out of the offices.

---

A/N: Lol, idk if that was trash, but bon apetit, hope you enjoy

[painted-piggy-ships-archive]

Slice of Life

Betelgeuse x Hannibal Fawley

Word Count: 1520

Tag List: @heavenshipped @fangedwife @the-rocknroll-cryptid @cherry-bomb-ships

Summary: Slice of life in my domestic au! :o) Ft. fankids Altair, Crux, and Spider Lily

Warnings: Babies and pregnancy mention, empty ideation of suicide (in an annoyed context, idk how common the phrase “if such and such happens I’d shoot myself” is but I’ve heard it a few times before and decided it fit in this context), a somewhat rude principal, bug mentions.

REBLOGS > COMMENTS > LIKES - Thanks for reading!

The Fawley household was far from average. It consisted of Hannibal Fawley, otherwise known as Bill in less formal settings, his husband, a poltergeist known as Betelgeuse, and their three children; Spider Lily, the adopted, eldest, human daughter, age six, and Crux and Altair, half-geist twins, only a few months old at this time.

Hannibal’s income came from stories he wrote, and Betelgeuse worked as a “bio-exorcist,” an exterminator of the living, for the sanity of the dead. Spider Lily was of course attending elementary school, where Hannibal occasionally volunteered as well. It was never a dull moment in this family and they, mostly, happily made do.

Hannibal was washing dishes, his babes in a sling under his chest, fast asleep as he quietly worked, when his phone rang. He slipped it out of his pocket and quickly answered it, trying his best not to disturb the twins.

“Yello?”

“Hey, babes, it’s me. The shuttle’s clogged to the Netherworld and back, I might be a bit late getting home.” Betelgeuse’s pleasantly gravelly voice came through.

Hannibal sighed. He knew he couldn’t exactly control the times souls had to do their afterlife jobs, but tonight really wasn’t the best night to get stuck like this.

“Beej, we have a meeting with Spider’s principal tonight.”

“Shit, tonight??”

“I told you yesterday. And this morning.”

“How about I meet you at the school??”

“5:30. If you’re not there by 5:35 I guess I’m going in by myself.”

“C’mon, Hanni, don’t be like that, y’know I’d be there in two spits of a coroner’s flame if I could!” Betelgeuse paused. “... So the hell are we talking to her principal for again?”

Hannibal shrugged, shifting his phone to the opposite ear. “Not sure. Maybe it’s something to do with grades.”

“She’s in elementary school for JC’s sake, how the fuck are they going to grade coloured-pencil drawings???”

Hannibal glanced at the time. “I don’t know. If you can make it, you’ll find out, now I’ve got to go pick her up. I love you.” Hannibal made a pronounced kiss into the phone, to which Betelgeuse responded with the same.

“Love you, too, sweetcheeks.”

Hannibal hung up and quickly fed Crux and Altair so they wouldn’t get fussy on the car ride, before changing his shirt and setting out to pick up his daughter.

~~~

“Gods dammit, Beej,” Hannibal cursed to himself as he waited by his car with his daughter. He had left the twins home with a trusted sitter, and as his watch struck 5:35, Betelgeuse had not yet arrived. He took a breath, smoothed down his hair and clothes, then took his daughter’s hand and walked into the school.

“Ah, Mr. Fawley, I’m delighted you could make it,” Miss Calls, the principal of Spider Lily’s school, greeted and stood as Hannibal entered her office. He nodded and shook her hand.

“And I’m delighted I could find a sitter,” he joked, “should Spider be in for this?”

“If she would like to be.”

“No.” Spider Lily almost immediately stated. Hannibal smiled slightly and got down to her level.

“Alright. Do you want to wait in the main office? I saw some toys and books you can use to entertain yourself for now.”

Spider Lily nodded and Hannibal took her back out of Miss Calls’ office, before returning and taking a seat.

“Is your husband not joining us?”

“He’s just running a bit late is all-”

The door opened and Betelgeuse entered, having put on a human disguise that looked much like his regular self, but with a lively skin tone, a lack of mold and moss, and thicker hair. However, he still dressed like a suspicious cars salesman, and it took all of Hannibal’s willpower not to introduce his palm to his forehead in that moment.

“Sorry I’m late, horrible traffic,” Betelgeuse took Miss Calls’ hand and shook it much more enthusiastically compared to Hannibal.

“Ah, well, I’m just glad you’re here,” Miss Calls smiled as Betelgeuse took a seat beside his husband. “I don’t think I ever got your name…?”

“Beetle.”

“Beetle… Fawley?”

“My parents were… eccentrics, to say the least,” Betelgeuse chuckled as Hannibal regained his composure. Misses Calls nodded and reclaimed the seat behind her desk.

“Let us discuss why I’ve called you here… your daughter’s teachers are… concerned, about her.”

“Oh??”

“She’s very quiet in class, but she seems to like terrorizing other children on the playground with bugs and very strange stories…”

Betelgeuse chuckled again, knowing at least in part the bugs were probably his influence, but stopped when Hannibal cleared his throat.

“That sounds pretty harmless to me. I was a quiet kid, and I certainly had quite the imagination… who’s to say she’s any different?” Hannibal inquired. He was slightly annoyed they had been gathered for this of all things. Spider Lily had a tendency to be obvious when she was unhappy, and she hadn’t shown any of those signs recently.

“Her teachers are just concerned that she doesn’t really have any friends. They see her try, but there’s nobody she’s really connected with.”

“Not her fault. Maybe the little playground br-” Betelgeuse winced as Hannibal subtly and silently dug his heel into his husband’s foot as a warning. “I mean, maybe the little playground tykes ought to get to know her better before being so quick to judge.”

“I suppose you’re not incorrect.”

“So, what’s the plan? Her teachers are concerned, you called us here to talk, what do you propose we do for Spider so she has more opportunities to make friends? I don’t suppose elementary school has clubs.” Hannibal mused, wanting to cut this meeting short.

“We were thinking, and don’t take this the wrong way Mr. Fawley, you could help her with social skills? It’s clear that being around peers is not quite the right approach…”

Hannibal felt himself grow livid from the insinuation he wasn’t trying his absolute goddamn best to raise Spider Lily in the most safe, educational, and loving environment possible, considering the circumstances of her parents. Betelgeuse noticed the aggravated straightening of his husband’s spine and put a soothing hand on his knee. As much as he’d love to watch Hannibal chew the principal out for her careless words, he knew it wouldn’t help the situation much.

“Well, that’s a fine request, Mrs. Calls.” He spoke calmly with a dangerous undertone. “But don’t you think we’re trying our best at home? I don’t think there’s much we can do to help this situation, at least until Spider Lily finds somebody who likes creepy-crawlies as much as she does.”

Betelgeuse stood, taking Hannibal’s hand so he stood as well. “If Spider wasn’t happy, we’d know. And if we found out it was because of your or one of your employee’s negligence, you’d fuckin’ know, too.”

Betelgeuse’s snake eyes flickered through his disguise in his frustration, making the principal’s hair stand on end.

“Have a nice evening,” Hannibal spoke softer than his husband, tired. Betelgeuse led them out of the office, taking his daughter’s hand as well as they all went back to the car.

“Am I in trouble?” Spider Lily asked.

“No, of course not!” Betelgeuse and Hannibal said in near unison.

“Rollie-pollie, you’re not having any trouble making friends at school, right?” Hannibal asked over the back of his seat. Spider shook her head.

“Some of the boys help me look for bugs at recess. I don’t know many kids’ names, but some are nice to me.”

“Are any of ‘em mean?” Betelgeuse’s disguise melted away as he drove his family home.

“No… but they’re scared of me.”

“Well, so long as you’re not unhappy…”

“I’m not.”

Hannibal smiled. “Then you just make friends at your own pace, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Who wants ice cream before we get home?” Betelgeuse asked. Hannibal contemplated telling him no, it was a bit late for Spider to be having anything sweet, but instead he caved. They all deserved something sweet tonight, to take the edge off things.

~~~

When the trio got home and Spider Lily was set to bed, all Hannibal could do was strip down to his undershirt and boxers and bury himself in Betelgeuse’s side on their bed. He hadn’t undressed yet, but had his shirt unbuttoned and his tie undone.

“Tuckered out?” He growled lowly and sweetly to his partner.

“You have no idea. Gods, I hate the school board. If I have to mingle with another Susan, Debbie, or hell forbid Karen at another fucking bake sale I’ll shoot myself.”

Empty words. Betelgeuse smiled at Hannibal’s venting.

“You wouldn’t trade the kids to be rid of it, would you, though.”

Hannibal allowed himself a short chuckle. “‘Course not. Love them damn kids. The two I birthed myself, with my own manly hoo-ha, and the daughter we adopted because nobody else would.”

Betelgeuse coaxed Hannibal’s head out from under his arm and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

“That’s the Bill I know.”

Hannibal dragged his fingers through Betelgeuse’s tangled hair, already much more relaxed compared to before. “I love you, Beej.”

“I love you, too, darlin’.”

[icantbelieveitsnotcanon]

Every Supernatural fan: too soon.

Screws, Joshua Petherick

[queenaboleyna]

For me the weird thing is s1. So they skip ten years of Henry's reign, set in the 1520s then use events from the skipped years? Like what? And why all these dudes no one cares about like Knyvet? Where'd he go? Sort of think they were lucky to get s2 after that.

so glad you brought this up lol cause i’ve always thought season 1 was the messiest of all the seasons?

like, i love wolsey’s storyline, i love catherine’s scenes, i love anne, and it’s still fun to watch it; but it’s still such a mess lol - like you mentioned, they made a big deal about knyvet in the first half and him almost dying in jousting only for him to never be mentioned again; norfolk was still supposed to be the main wolsey anti in this season and he barely did anything; fitzroy was introduced just to be prematurely killed off (i suppose to make it so henry’s matter seems more urgent? idk)

and how could we forget the elephant in the room that is the whole thomas tallis storyline lmfaoo like i don’t think i will ever understand where they were going with that? he’s such a random person for them to even put in the show, let alone main him a main cast member?? nothing he did had anything to do with the rest of the story??? he had a thing with william compton for a bit, he sung to henry at dinner once, and that’s literally it for how much he interacts with other main characters??? and that weird ass thing with the twins when he can see one of them having a halo bc she’s about to die from the sweat, and then he marries the other (who hallucinates/sees the ghost of her dead sister even when her and tallis are having sex like on god what even was happening in the writing room here helppp) you could cut out all his scenes and absolutely nothing would change, like not to sound mean but it was such a waste of minutes lol.

also i feel like out of all the seasons, it was the least... regal one? like... does anyone look at s1 henry and think ah yes... he looks very kingly... so majestic... did literally anyone think that lol. like if the show didn’t tell me he was a king i would never guess it

another thing that always bothered me in s1 is... we somehow never get a scene where henry decides to marry anne?? like?? we see him pursue her and ask her to be his maitresse en titre. anne refuses, henry storms off. a little later that same episode henry recieves a jewelled little boat which he takes as anne accepting his proposal - where is the proposal scene?? where is henry deciding that he wants to remarry to anne, specifically? the show lets him decide he wants to divorce catherine before he considers anne as a new wife, so when he decides that he also wants to marry anne, this shouldve been such a big thing, but it just? never happens? it’s more of a silent transfer but idk, it always came across as weird to me

and finally... the timeline. they clearly wanted to get to the great matter as quickly as possible, but they also wanted to include the big events from henry’s earlier reign, like the field of cloth of gold, brandon and mary’s margaret marriage, so they just jumbled it all up together, which forced them to make a lot changes in order for it all to work and when you know all of the changes they made, it just seems really chaotic

anyways yea like there is a lot of aspects of s1 that i do like, i still think wolsey is one of the best and most complex characters in the show and the storyline of his downfall is one of the best plots throughout the show, it’s still very fun to watch, but i think sometimes ppl tend to look at it through rose colored glasses and nostalgia cause quality wise, i wouldn’t say its the tudors’ best season