#Britain x France

[vanillabunnyrabbit]

☆ wip ☆

[genpurple]

Them all the time lol ( I was laughing

while I was drawing)

[america-is-my-muse]

Britain and France take their kids sledding:

Britain: I'm not sure this is safe. I just saw three kids get smoked. France: They'll be fine. It builds character.

[thatidiots-art]

day 14! Fruk <3

◇ note that i dont want my art to have anything to do w politics and irl problems :)

◇ please follow me on twt/insta for more :D

◇ carrd in bio!

[lilithism1848]

[susanmeki]

*Ass Explosion*

-Delicious baguette, isn't it?

-F**k you

[carllgrxmes]

[junocat1890]

Title: Can I Love You Again Please?

Fandom: Countryhumans

Rating: Mature/Teens (?)

Relationships: Turkey/Greece, MLM

[jwdoodles]

Spy X Family Au with Loid (Spy) as England, Yor (Assassin) as France, and Anya (Telepath) as Nyo!America

[norris55s]

the great war - max verstappen

mercedes driver schumacher reader x max verstappen social media au (set from 2021 and beyond)

a/n: this was a ride lol and it took me forever but i liked my own idea and i hope its kinda good :) fc is sydney sweeney

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France, 2021.

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Austria, 2021

f1news

f1news: It seems that the Hamilton-Verstappen rivalry doesn't end with them, with the hostility between Y/N Schumacher and Max Verstappen amping up despite their childhood friendship. They are reportedly not on speaking terms after Verstappen's aggressive move on Schumacher to take the lead in the French Grand Prix that ended in her DNF. She is now reported to be on her Mercedes' side, hoping for her teammates eighth title, instead of her initial neutral stance.

ferrarilove: are we going through brocedes without them even fighting each other for the championship

leclercnorris: i can't believe a championship battle will take another pair of childhood best friends

sebvettelchamp: once again childhood best friends to platonic soulmates to enemies to strangers when will this end

hamiltonszn: as she should

hearteyesnorris: this season has more drama than i would've ever hoped for

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Great Britain, 2021

f1news:

f1news: Lewis Hamilton's teammate was not happy with his celebrations after the Silverstone Grand Prix, with Y/N Schumacher avoiding Mercedes' over the top win party even with her podium finish. She is very upset about it, considering Max Verstappen was in the hospital after the impact of the first-lap collision, where she was reportedly seen.

maxv33rstappen: At least someone has a moral backbone in that team.

scuderialewis: lmao she's such a double faced bitch

carlandofate: it's getting rowdy

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Belgium, 2021

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Italy, 2021

f1news

f1news: Max Verstappen and Y/N Schumacher arrive to the Monza paddock together, with a reconciliation evident after the Silverstone crash fiasco.

schumi33: WE WON

ynbabygirl: not a mercedes civil war brewing instead

f1news

f1news: In response to Y/N's statements about the Monza crash, Max said: "It was an unfortunate racing incident, not something I wanted to happen."

verstappensainz: they were JUST doing better i can't

checosakhir: what's worse the downfall of the mercedes power duo or the downfall of schumacherstappen

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Turkey, 2021

f1news

f1news: Turkey marks Y/N Schumacher's first win of the season. Max Verstappen congratulates her with a hug.

ricciardoheart: lewis' face at the hug was priceless

gaslyyyy: how about toto? lmfao

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United States, 2021

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Mexico, 2021

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Brazil, 2021

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Abu Dhabi, 2021

f1news

f1news: Y/N Schumacher on who she wishes will win the championship this weekend: "I'll be happy either way. So much has been made personal and it's not. When I realized that I was much happier and I have enjoyed the season and this titan battle more than ever. This isn't my battle, but they're both really good friends and I appreciate that too much to risk it. However, as Lewis' teammate I will do whatever I can to help."

y/nschumacher

y/nschumacher: It was a tough season with lots of mixed emotions. I'm so grateful for the team, and so proud of their Constructor's Championship. For now all I want to say is congratulations to lewishamilton for an incredible season; we will get you the eighth. And congratulations maxverstappen33! I have seen how hard you've worked for this dream, and now you're living it.

comments have been disabled

f1news

f1news: Y/N Schumacher seen at Max Verstappen's championship after party.

lewiswonder: oh she deserves a place in hell

formuladutch: orange army we move for her

schumacherstar: the death threats are gonna get so bad... jesus

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New Year's Eve, 2022

f1waggossip

f1waggossip: As if 2021 didn't have enough drama, we are starting off 2022 with a bang as Max and Y/N were spotted sharing a New Year's Eve kiss.

hamiltonteam44: no wonder the dumb bitch was so eager to see crashstappen win

lhfourtyfour: never beating the wh0re allegations!

schumacherprincess: so hateful and misogynistic. maybe listen to lewis' position on feminism once?

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2022

f1waggossip

f1waggossip: Despite being constantly asked about the nature of their relationship, Max Verstappen and Y/N Schumacher have refused to answer questions on the topic, focusing on the 2022 season as Red Bull and Mercedes struggle in the beginning of it. However, they are constantly seen outside of races, continuing to fuel rumors.

norrizzz: what do y'all want them to say lol they're probably fearing for their lives

schumachersiblings: for whatever its worth its cute lol

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2023

f1waggosip

f1waggossip: The secret everyone already knew is out. The Schumacherstappen relationship is confirmed with a very public kiss, after Max won his third world championship in Qatar.

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2024

y/nschumacher

y/nschumacher: Lewis, it has been the honor of a lifetime to race alongside you as your teammate. You have supported me from the moment you met me, raising me up when you rose up. Every part of me that is any good at racing has learnt it from you. I'm eternally grateful, and I wish you all the best in your new, red adventure. Don't ever forget your girl in black and green. Let's enjoy 2024!

lewishamilton: Love you, kid.

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2025

y/nschumacher

y/nschumacher: I vowed I would always be yours if we survived the great war. And then we became teammates four years later. I love you, Max. I can't wait to beat a four time world champion in equal machinery.

maxverstappen1: I love you. Always have.

[ghostfacd]

THE KING AND HIS QUEEN, — king george iii

pairing: king george iii x fem!queen!reader

summary: your new life of being queen has been quite a struggle adjusting to. thankfully, you have the perfect king to stand right by your side.

genre: royal!au, fluff, mentions of arranged marriage, reader said to be a princess from france but ethnicity is not specified, plot kind of differs from queen charlotte: a bridgeton story, talk of wanting children

author’s note: the plot is different from that of the netflix series so don’t come at me ! wanted to write for george because his character is very intriguing to me and also bc the actor for young george is so mighty fine 😋😋 enjoy!

“Are you alright?” The king asked you. His face examined yours, locking his eyes onto your frame.

“Yes my king,” you say, staring down at your plate with a forced smile. In all truths, you were not alright. You had just wedded the week before, and the life of a queen was taking much more of a toll on you than you’d expect.

You remembered like it was just yesterday. Well, technically, it was. It was barely a week ago.

“Will Her Royal Highness, Princess of France, take His Majesty, The King as husband, from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part; according to God's holy law?”

“I, Princess of France, in the presence of God make this vow, from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part; according to God's holy law.”

“Very well, you may kiss the bride.”

And just like that, you were proclaimed Queen of Great Britain and Ireland.

“You’re spacing out,” George inquires, face filled with concern. You almost wonder why he cares. The two of you were not inlove. The marriage had been an arranged deal between your father and his since the day you were both born. Your fate had been sealed as soon as you came out your mother’s womb.

“Leave us.” He motions to the guards standing. They obey him like robots, leaving at his command. Now, it was just the two of you alone.

“YN,” for the first time since the two of you met, he had said your first name. No ‘my queen’ but just YN.

“Yes, my king?”

“Please, just George.”

You sigh, finally deciding to look him in the eyes. “Very well. George?”

“You know you can always tell me what is wrong, right?” He looks almost saddened. Or was it pity? You didn’t know him very well—the two of you rarely communicating since the marriage had been finalized.

“Of course my king,”

“George.” He corrects.

“Apologies, it was out of habit.”

He stands up, motioning you to come over to him. With raised eyebrows, you do as he wants, your long gown flowing onto the marble floor beautifully.

“Come with me,” he says, taking your hands into his. “To our chambers.”

You flush up at the feeling of George’s hands holding yours. You hadn’t had a boyfriend before marrying him, your father being very keen on keeping yourself innocent and pure for the King of Great Britain.

When you two arrive at the large tall entrance of the chamber, George waves off the two guards standing in front.

“Marital duties?” One of the dukes asked. “Great job Georgie, knew you had it in ‘ya.”

The King rolls his eyes at this, though he makes sure the duke hadn’t caught it. When you’re both inside the chamber, George finally lets out a breath of relief, situating himself onto the large mattress.

It was even larger than yours back at your palace in France. It was meant for the King and Queen, you and George, to sleep in at night and perform your marital duties.

“Sit, please.” George says, patting the empty space next to him. You sit down awkwardly, not sure where to look.

“Listen, I know it’s hard,” George lifts up your chin with his finger. “Adjusting to your life as my queen. The Queen of Great Britain and Ireland. But I assure you, as long as I live, I will make sure nobody will ever lay their hands on you or our future children, and that I will provide you with my love and support as I do with our country.”

Your eyes softened at his mini speech towards you, and your heart fluttered with joy. You were scared the two of you would end up in a loveless marriage like your Father and Mother had been—only together to provide the next heir of France. The heir ended up being your brother, your parent’s firstborn, King Charles of France. Second in throne was your other brother, Prince Louis, the spare. The only reason your parents had you was because your father had wanted a daughter to spoil, not because they were “inlove”. God no.

“Thank you my king. I appreciate this greatly, you have no idea. The stress of being Queen has taken quite the toll on me, and I was afraid of confiding in you about my worries.”

“You have no reason to be afraid,” George takes your hand, placing a soft kiss on it. “You are my wife, and I am your husband. You should never be afraid to confide in me. We promised that only death can do us part, and that we will love each other in sickness and suffering.”

“You are right my king,” you say, placing a peck on his cheek. For the first time, you were making a move, not him.

The two of you stay in each other’s embrace for the next hour, a comfortable and comforting silence fulfilling you both.

For the first time since you’ve step foot into Britain, you felt safe and loved. Loved by the King himself.

“You mentioned protecting me and our future children?” You tease him as you pull away. He bashfully looks down, letting out a small embarrassed laugh.

“Yes, my queen. The future heir, our lineage.”

“I hope it’s a boy,” you blurt out. You wanted your firstborn to be a boy because you’ve always seen your big brothers as a clear example of well raised princes, and you wanted the same for your future children.

“A boy would be ideal,” George says, pulling you close to him, “but I wouldn’t mind a girl. Spoil her rotten and braid her hair.”

You laugh, nodding along with George’s words. “I suppose a girl wouldn’t be so bad. As long as our future baby will be healthy.”

“Yes.”

The next few hours are spent with you and George mapping out the future, forgetting all your responsibilities for just the moment. George wanted Edward for a boy and Marionette for a girl, Nette for short. He expressed to you how he always dreamed of a normal life, farming and doing astronomy. However, he was grateful for growing up in royalty, never surrounded by poverty.

And just like that, the night you and George connected had flew by and you were expecting your second child in a few weeks time.

“Edward!” You say, giggling at the boy running around your legs. Edward was five, and quite the rowdy one. He took after his father’s handsomeness and had the eyes of George, the same ones that had looked at you with concern 6 years prior on that fateful night.

“Mummy!” Edward shrieks in delight. His eyes brighten when he sees his Father, who picks him up in an instant.

“I hope you’re not giving mummy a hard time,” George says, booping the young prince’s nose. “Are you, Prince Edward of Wales?”

“Course not daddy!” Edward scrambles to be let down on the ground, making George grunt as he sets the boy down. “Just wanted to hang out with mummy, that’s all.”

“Yes, my handsome little prince was doing no harm dear,” you reassure your husband. He rubs your baby bump softly, admiring your beauty.

“Just worried about you and Marionette is all,” he says with a soft smile.

“Me and Nette are fine,” you say, “now Edward, would you like me to tell you the day I became Queen?”

“Yes mummy!” Edward grins excitedly.

George can’t help but admire his little family as you told the story to your son Edward, brushing small strands of his brunette hair out of his face. In a few weeks, little Marionette will be arriving, and he couldn’t wait.

He wouldn’t trade what he had now for anything, not even for the whole wide world.

[vanillabunnyrabbit]

lovers

[genpurple]

I keep forgetting I have this app lol ( some hetalia art I have done) :)

[primeofprimes115]

A Long Awaited Dance - (Bombshell) Supergirl x Male Reader

Note: Fluff 🥰

Based from the DC Bombshells Universe - Earth-24

Second of September 1945... The War had officially ended on all fronts, while the war between Germany and Britain ended in May fourth of the same year... The war on the rest of the countries officially ended on the second of September.

The Bombshells played a big part on the front, starting from 1940 during the war, the Bombshells were created and put together by Amanda Waller, an expert pilot, leader and the best at military protocol.

The Bombshells went all around the world at each time, Wonder Woman went to Berlin to make the Reich surrender, with all the events that transpired before hand, the world being invaded by strange forces on that other hand, it was all stopped in the end.

Though it came with a cost of Power Girl's and Superman's life, cloned from Supergirl's DNA in 1942, their sacrifices brought a victory that brought peace finally after six years. A victory sweeter than strawberries.

Kara Starikov had lost a lot during this war, Kortni; her sister, her family, and deemed a traitor by her own country; Soviet Russia. She vowed to protect the Motherland regardless, a promise she still kept when it was attacked eventually, she was raised in Soviet Russia, she grieved the loss of Power Girl and Superman but their memory would live on through her, she vowed it so.

Her sister Kortni aka Stargirl had sacrificed herself in 1941 within London, Britain where the bombings were taking place, a creature of pure power had threatened the entire city and world, the Bombshells soon responded to this threat. Kara wanted to sacrifice herself after she thought she was a danger to the world were she still alive, now deemed a traitor to Soviet Russia, her homeland, the only home and country she grew up in.

She knew she was special, her parents told her she came from the stars one night, within a strange mechanism like vehicle, she was their biological daughter, but they were her parents, they raised her alongside Kortni.

Returning from Russia, she flew all the way back to the US, to meet someone she had fallen in love with back in 1942, a special unit soldier that took unprecedented risks in his missions against the Axis Powers, a young man who travelled far and wide to assist the Allies, his name was Y/N L/N, his father served in WWII as a Sergeant, who unfortunately died in 1944 during the Allied Retaking of France, months after D-Day.

Kara was there for him when he grieved for the loss of his father, as he did when she lost her parents in 1942, during a altercation which they sacrificed their lives with the help of Swamp Thing to contain a threat that is still contained to this day, the Bombshells would answer to this Doomsday aka Faora-Ul if she were to escape one day and finish what was started in Leningrad.

Y/N was injured in March 6th, 1945, when a covert mission went wrong, resulted in him getting caught and captured by the Reich.

When word got out of Y/N's mission gone wrong, Supergirl went out of jurisdiction to find and bring the love of her life back from the front, alive. Flying out with a blaze of fury and determination to rescue him from the Germans, before eventually finding him, dismantling the Germans that had captured and tortured him for information, Y/N had bruises, cuts and had dried up blood all over him. He was malnourished too.

He remembered being relieved when Kara came to rescue him, she hadn't killed the Germans holding him prisoner but he swore she might've, based on how in bad shape he was, it was surprising he hadn't broke just yet. All he heard was shouting, shooting and screaming, Germans being thrown and punched while bullets bounced off her.

He remembered looking into the dark, seeing a pair of red glowing eyes approaching him before shutting off, returning to normal once Supergirl came into view, her red cape-like-scarf bundled-in-two flowing behind her like her skirt as she rushed up to him. Her soothing worried voice soon cutting him free and flying him out that day... All the way back to the US where he could be treated for his injuries.

He mumbled one word that day during the flight back to his country for medical care. And again said it once he awoke on the date, eighth of July, 1945 after being in a coma for months. Kara would make frequent visits to check on him and tell him about everything that was going on.

"Printessa" a word in Russian which meant Princess to her, it was a word he'd usually call her, other than "Solnyshko" for when they first met. Y/N was fluent in Russian and a few other languages, useful for infiltration and so fourth. The moment was tear-jerking for her, hearing his first word after being in a coma for months, his eyes had began to open following this while she hugged and cried happily in his shoulder, all that happened next was her sleeping with her head resting on his chest in the medical bay.

As of currently however, Supergirl flown herself back to see Y/N, the young man she fell in love with back in 1942. It had been a day since the war ended, Y/N was almost back to full health but still recovering, he wasn't clear for field work during the final days of the war like he hoped he would, which was nothing but unfortunate for himself.

In the home he was driven back to, his mother's home, Y/N sat on the chair, writing a letter to his friends who were still in the army, a newspaper on the table beside him, the big obvious title claiming that "THE WAR IS OVER", published from the Daily Planet in Metropolis.

Kara Starikov, Supergirl, thought about potentially being Metropolis's protector, it was a mere mention that sprang across his mind once his eyes laid upon the newspaper that was labelled by the Daily Planet. She had been thinking very hard about it since then, knowing she can't ever fully return to Soviet Russia, to Moscow, but she'd protect it as a watchful angel.

Soon enough after placing down his fountain pen and finishing writing the letter, he looked out to his window to see Supergirl landing just a few steps away from the door, before her eyes drifted to the window itself.

A big toothy smile grew upon her face while his came out as a smirk, she soon approached the door and knocked on it, knowing Y/N's mother was inside.

Kara couldn't keep her eyes off him after knocking on the door gently, the wind picking up her long, wavy blonde hair, the double sided scarf that acted as a cape billowing behind her along with her skirt, her big teething smile teasing him through the window.

Y/N couldn't either, her smile always seemed to distract him, let alone her face and beauty, she was the prettiest girl he had ever met, he hadn't known how pretty Russian girls really were until his eyes fell upon her in 1942, when he was given orders by the British to eliminate Dr. Hugo Strange who was in Leningrad at the time.

He ran into a few misfits during his mission, most notably Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Reaper aka Andrea Gruenwald and a Newspaper Girl named Eloisa Lane aka Lois Lane for short, who worked for the Daily Planet.

It turned out that Reaper wanted revenge on Hugo Strange for what he's done to her and Y/N's covert mission was to kill Strange, so the two worked together, with Lois tagging along, though Y/N had tried to convince her not to come with, since she was a civilian, however... Lois was pretty helpful and smart, convincing him to allow her to tag along... For now,

Eventually, he'd meet Kara Starikov aka Supergirl after he sabotaged Strange's security with Reaper's help, with Kara convincing Power Girl to turn against Strange, rescuing Steve Trevor next who was also captured besides Kara.

At a moments notice? When Y/N made himself known with helping Lois Lane out of the hidden window within the wall they climbed through, mentioning they were responsible for the power shortage in Strange's security. 

He fell in love...

Butterflies went through his stomach at a moments notice of her making eye contact with him, he felt his face heat up in that moment, he had heard about the Soviet's having a 'Superweapon' to be used for the War... But he didn't expect it to be a person, let alone... A beautiful young woman.

Y/N solely remembered that day... Where his life soon changed forever afterwards.

______________________________________________________________

[Flashback |Soviet Russia, Leningrad, 1942 | Strange's Laboratory]

"I.. Wow... Uh" Y/N looked at her speechless, while helping Lois out of the hidden window in the wall, noticing him looking at the 'Superweapon'. "Well... Originally we weren't meant to rescue you, I had no idea the weapon would be... A you" he rubbed the back of his neck, Lois helped Andrea out from the window in response, smirking away at the covert soldier's awkwardness. "I suppose it was a change of plans".

Y/N soon applauded the young woman's words toward the clone she was fighting, the things she made her realize, the woman soon softly smiled in his direction as he approached her, standing just slightly taller than her

"I'm... Uh..." Y/N found himself hesitant to even say his own name, though he went under the alias; Cobra, his name was mostly classified amongst all military personnel, knowing this... 'Superweapon' came from the Soviet Union, he felt... Sick about the fact the Soviets were wanting to use this young woman as a weapon due to her power.

"Have you forgotten your name?" the young woman giggled softly, still keeping her eyes on him, a light tint of pink rushed across his cheeks as he laughed softly. Steve Trevor took notice of this and stayed back for now, watching as this went down.

"No, no. It's Y/N... Y/N L/N" he brought his hand out and soon... She took it to shake it.

"And my name is Kara Starikov" she announced to him in her Russian accent, smiling at him as she shook his hand gently and respectively.

"But they call her..." Steve Trevor stepped into the conversation. "'Supergirl'" he announced to him, Kara still couldn't keep her eyes off him as he did the same, her warm smile taking shape as she blinked softly and slowly.

"Supergirl?" he questioned, a tinted smile appearing on the young man's face towards Kara.

"The Motherland originally called me that" her Russian nature explained it all, making him nod at her answer.

Y/N soon thought to himself, liking the name they had for her, though she admitted she never came up with the name. It was Russia that named her that "So... You're apart of the Bombshells, right? I heard about that group making a lot of moves recently, helping out with the war effort".

"{Yes}, I'm apart of the Bombshells, I defected the Communist Party, along with..." pain arose in her voice, before Power Girl came crashing in, ending the conversation... For now that was.

________________________________________________________________________________

[Present Day | US, West Virginia, 1945 | L/N American Household]

Y/N daydreamed on that day of being carried out by Kara when they first met, after she was able to fly again, dealing with the fact she lost her sister and as much as it pained her, she pushed on... In Kortni's name and love. Eventually telling him of the loss she recently suffered, about the fact the Communist Party deemed her a traitor since she wouldn't kill innocent lives in the name of the Soviet Union.

She felt her country was corrupt, she may love Russia as a country, but not the people in charge.

Soon enough, he could hear the front door opening with Kara joining her hands together in front of her.

"Hello Mrs. L/N, I... I'm here to see your son, Y/N" she hadn't met his mother yet, but he could see she was being awkward a little, not expecting to meet his mother without a proper introduction.

"Oh, you're the girl he told me about. Come in, come in!" his mother invited her in, happy to finally meet her. "Y/N!! Your woman is here!" the older woman shouted for her son in her London accent. As much as it felt embarrassing to hear her tell him about Kara's arrival. He felt his face heating up with embarrassment from the announcement alone.

His mother was told about Kara Starikov after he came home, though he was supposed to come back to check on her the year father was killed in the line of duty, they had grieved their loses after he came home to recover from being off the field.

"Might I say that you look absolutely gorgeous, young woman. My son must be lucky to have met you" Helen L/N's voice bloomed through the house, with the door in Y/N's room slightly opened, the music playing on his phonograph at a lower level as he was writing earlier.

"Oh, [thank you], but I thought I was lucky to have met him?" Kara replied, Helen looked at her funny however, not knowing what word she meant earlier as Kara realized what she said. "Oh, sorry! My mistake on that part, I-I said thank you in Russian. I'm sure he told you I was raised in the Motherland" her voice was closer to the door than it was earlier after being invited in.

"The Russian accent says it all, it's okay, Ms. Starikov" Helen nodded with a smile. "He's in there, writing. I'm sure he probably expected you".

"Oh, I'm sure he does" the Russian Bombshell smirked before Helen walked off back into the living room, to continue knitting. Kara on the other hand soon pushed the door open, seeing Y/N already stood up and his eyes falling on her.

"Kara, my Printessa" he smiled brightly, calling her by his many nicknames for her. the Bombshell that had rescued him on multiple occasions, especially the one where he was on the verge of death months back.

"Dorogoy!" a nickname (means Sweetheart in English) she'd call him time to time, she sped into his arms and planted her lips on his, with papers flying all about from his desk after she super sped up to him with a hug and kiss in mind.

Soon his arms wrapped around her waist as hers sprang around his upper back, her sleeve-gloved hands feeling and stroking the back of his head, her fingers running against his hair as he brings his arms up to her curly, long, blonde hair that drove down behind her and parted to the right hand side of her face, where his hands now felt the curls of her hair as their kiss continued.

"Mmm" a soft moan escaped Supergirl's throat after she felt Y/N tapped where her skin was showing from the shoulders and upper back twice, since she wore a corset for her overall attire as she's been wearing since 1940. "I missed you" her Russian accent whispered softly to him, an accent he missed hearing from the last few weeks since she last came to visit, now within the home where he mostly grew up in after moving her when he was young.

"So did I, Supergirl... So did I" he smiled as their foreheads gently collided, with their smiles brighter as the sun shining in the morning. "I heard the war is over, we won" Y/N soon brought up, Kara nodded with a hum before kissing him again for a few seconds, then both parties looked toward the newspaper lying on the floor, no thanks to Kara super speeding into the man's arms.

Kara unwrapped her arms from Y/N as he did the same, the Bombshell knelt down and picked up the newspaper with a 'oops' expression on her face, noticing the papers that had been flown around the place. Soon placing the newspaper on the table Y/N was working on earlier.

"I think I caused this?" she made it known to him as he chuckled about it, seeing the expression on her face.

"It's alright, Kara" he grabbed her by the hand gently with a consoling touch. "It's adorable when you... Do that fast speeding thing" he looked into her eyes, smiling right at her.

"If you say so" she batted her eyes toward him before floating off the ground to be a little taller than him, making him look up at her just a little which made him chuckle.

"For some reason my dear? I like it when you do that" he smiled right up at her before being pulled into a loving kiss that lasted for as long as he could take it, tapping her shoulder lightly when he needed some air after their lips continued to smack softly off each other for a minute.

"And for some reason, my Sakharok" the Bombshell pulled her lips back from his just slightly, whispering to him. "I knew you did, you would've said something already if you hadn't liked it" Kara's English sounded so surprisingly perfect still, for someone who was raised in Russia, she sure knew how to speak English fluently, even when she met him for the first time in 1942, though she's spoken English before hand, she was a quick learner.

Only Russian thing there when speaking English was her Russian accent, which Y/N found attractive at best. The two continued locking eyes as Y/N attentionally rocked side to side slightly to the sound of the music playing on the phonograph, the volume lowered down still. 

"I... Heard what happened, the invaders and all that" Y/N then brought up after the two exchanged looks and smiles. The Kryptonian woman's expression soon turned serious a little, knowing what he was going to ask.

"Did-"

"They died..." Kara interrupted abruptly, as Y/N's expression soon turned into shock.

"Kara..." he called her by name, as she looked away in a little bit of pain. "Power Girl and...".

"[Yes, they did]" she answered in Russian. "I brought their bodies back from space. Before she left, she told me not to grieve much, it was hers and Kal-El's choice, they did it for the Motherland" she then continued with her word, before thinking to herself, wanting to correct herself from what she said. "No, for the world, for Earth... For us".

"They were... A good bunch of people, great in the Circus as well" he noted, and Kara hummed in agreement.

"I'm going to miss their acts" Supergirl slightly smiled, looking into Y/N's eyes next before her boots made contact with the ground. "Their memory will live through me, as does Kortni's and my family's" she smiled at that fact.

"And mine? When my time eventually comes?" Y/N smirked as the Russian Bombshell looked at him with a frown.

"Don't say that you {Idiot!}" Supergirl pouted as Y/N smiled and laughed softly. "I don't get your humor sometimes, that's something very serious".

"Oh you're so pretty when you're all serious" he flirted. "It's such a gas" he smiled soon after again, making her roll her eyes and smiling back at him.

"And your mother said you were lucky to have me, I think I now see why" Kara soon replied, not thinking twice to break eye contact.

"I heard, and she's right in a way" Y/N nodded, agreeing with that statement. "I'm extremely lucky to have you, you've saved me plenty of times, helped me, rescued me months ago, and in return I've done the same. I'm lucky to have met a woman like you, and even luckier to be romantically involved with you for the last three years since we met. On that topic..." he stopped for a moment to smile at himself, it's been three years since they've been in a relationship. "I love you, Kara Starikov, Supergirl" 

"I love you too, Y/N L/N, {Cobra}" she said back to him with a teething smile, before the next song played on the Phonograph while the two kept their smiles toward each other and their hands intertwined. The fabric of Kara's sleeved-gloves caressing his hands gently and soothingly.

A jazz type of song, one that a dance worked best with, a song that felt perfect for the two of them, at least that's what Y/N thought soon as it came on. He began to rock side to side again slightly, with Kara taking notice again, laughing softly at his movements as Kara let go of his hands so he could walk over to the phonograph.

The young man decided to turn up the volume a little, so it's at a optimal sound, enough to hear it properly.

"Remember when I promised you a dance?" he asked her, turning around to face her while leaning on the table where the phonograph was. 

"Two years ago" she remembered. "I remember clear as day" she began to smile, she had the idea of dancing, the time she was dancing at the Ball Event in the train from Istanbul to Leningrad back in 1942 with Steve Trevor.

"Well... Since the war is over... And I'm able to move again..." he began to smirk. Hinting at the promise he gave her in 1943, which they never got the chance to do so. "May I have this dance?" he asked politely with Kara outstretching her arms and hands out to him.

"I'd be happy to dance with you!" she smiled, her hands out, reaching for his. She had waited so long to hear him ask the question. "I've been wondering when you'd ask" she exclaimed, laughing softly at him as he approached and took both her hands.

The next thing, she brought him toward her completely in a space where they could move more freely in his room, embracing one another with Kara's left arm wrapped around his back, the other holding his hand, his fingers intertwined with her sleeved-gloves that were fingerless.

Y/N's arm wrapped around her waist while the other was around her back, his fingers locked with her own other hand. The Supergirl and the Cobra slowly dancing to the rhythm of the music.

"How long I've waited for this" Y/N cooed to his lover, seeing a big smile grow on her face soon after he whispered to her, their eyes blinking slowly with a love behind it.

"All you had to do was ask, and I waited patiently... For you" she whispered back, her Russian thick Russian accent making her sound more attractive by the minute, every time he heard her speak, it was like he fell in love all over and over again, especially when she whispered.

Silence fell between them as they danced in the one spot slowly to the rhythm of the song, their eyes locked onto each other as they found themselves lost in their worlds together, a kiss soon followed up with it deepening like that one night back in 1944 when the two done the deed on a quiet night after seeing each other once again. Kara remembered that moment very well, the night she lost her virginity, and she felt good after it.

And so did Y/N...

"And who thought an American and a Russian couldn't go well together?" he whispered back to her, making her lightly giggle at his question. Her ocean like eyes not daring to look away from his eyes.

"That's such a stupid question" she giggled a little more as Y/N then twirled her around, spinning her in a slow, smooth moment. Kara began to delight herself in this dance with the woman in the song singing. Let alone... Delighting herself more with Y/N taking the lead. 

"Yeah, I guess it is" he rolled his eyes playfully, spinning her around again in the same smooth manner, slow and gentle, Kara's scarf-like-cape and skirt billowed around with the smooth turn as Y/N caught her next.

Supergirl then began to smirk, intertwining her hand with his free hand once again and pulled him close to her body with a little kiss on his lips. The little kiss ended with Y/N giving Kara a surprised look before he smiled. Impressed by the sudden move.

"Good move, very romantic".

"That was good?"

"Yeah, it was a good move, the kiss made it way better" he praised her again.

Kara's blue eyes glistened toward his, like the ocean on a beach, swaying and moving. Her smile bright as the sun, her face prettier than a garden of flowers, her hair that would wave like a golden cape, she was perfect in his eyes. Though she'd highly disagree on that.

The music had drawn the attention of Helen L/N, wondering why the sudden music being turned up earlier, only to see both her son and his woman, Kara Starikov, Supergirl, dancing slowly.

Helen soon smiled at the two through the gap in the door after Kara slightly closed it earlier after entering, Helen wished Y/N's dad were still here to see this, Y/N had his father's looks after all, him dancing with Kara.

The older woman soon left the two alone without interruption, letting them delight in the dance as Y/N thought of something to talk about while their dance continued.

"Y'know... I do wonder what's next in store for us, what's next for us in the future" he brought up to her attention. "I've always wondered about it".

"I don't know, but whatever it is... We'll face it together" she said with a smile.

"Aren't you... Kinda scared?" he asks her with a curious look.

"I mean, it's okay to be scared, you never know what's going to happen" she said wisely. "Steve told me that... Before he...".

Y/N nodded his head, knowing what happened to Steve Trevor, how he died a hero. It was a hard-struck blow to the Allies and Bombshells alike.

"Yeah... I get where you're coming from" he smiled through the pain of loss, Steve Trevor was a good soul, a wise man, one that would be honored as time goes by. "A lot of good people gone, price of war".

"How long do you think that will last?" Kara brought up. "The Great War was only... Twenty-seven years ago, I came to know about the Great War when I learned how the Motherland is today, how it was born" Kara expressed her worries, showing concern for the world itself. "How long until peace is no more?".

"I... Don't think we should worry about that right now" he expressed, freeing his hand from her to caress her face, feeling how soft it was. "Whatever happens, my dear Solnyshko, I will always stick by your side, no matter what happens, nothing is going to tear us apart from each other" he vowed, soon making her smile softly once again.

"{Good}" she said in Russian, before pulling her face closer to his. "As long as we're together" she whispered in his ear, giving him a little wink after pulling back. Their dancing continued slowly with the rhythm.

"On that note..." he spun her around slowly and smoothly again, catching her before spinning her around, she stepped in and lightly pressed herself against his body, dancing to the song slowly with a delighted demeanor. "You still thinking on returning to Moscow?" he asked a good question, one he's still waiting for her answer on as she thought about it.

"Yes... I think it could be for the best... For now at least, but... I don't know if..." she was about to mention the tension between the US and USSR that could happen, regarding the end of the war, she had overheard talks about it all with her super hearing.

A part of herself did not want to be propaganda again, or to be used as a weapon against anyone for that matter alone, she still hasn't forgotten what the Russian leadership tried to make her and Kortni do to innocent Russians back in 1940, leading to them fleeing the country with their mother but failed to rescue their father in time, since he got captured and placed into the Gulag afterwards, 

But again... Russia was her country, it was her homeland, perhaps she could be a watchful angel over Russia, protecting it from any form of criminals or something else entirely, to keep the citizens safe.

"If something were to happen... Then... They'd want to use me as a weapon like they tried to do to me and Kortni, they could even-".

"If it does happen, Kara? We can just... Leave" he interrupted her, trying to keep her from worrying too much. "We don't have to get involved... Unless it's a very, very serious matter, like another destructive war from happening" he then made a mental note to himself and her.

"Maybe..." she said with a worried look still. "But run or fly away again?" she asked.

"I know it sounds... Discreet and dumb, I get that. But... I want to build a life with you also, it's an idea to have backups if things turn... Sour, if you understand what I mean" Kara soon nodded her head, turning slowly and rocking side to side with him slowly as they danced in the one spot together.

The Supergirl then began to smile at one part she picked out from Y/N's wording. That he wants to build a life with her, and in her vision? So did she, she wanted this to happen, she was the first to kiss him after all back in December of 1942

"I also want to build a life with you too" she drew her face closer to his once more, batting her eyes toward him. "I remember Faora mentioning something about the crystal necklace I came to Earth with, mentioning it would do something incredible when it contacted ice, like the ice in the North Pole, the Arctic you called it" Kara brought up a previous encounter with Faora back in 1942 before she turned herself into Doomsday, a hybrid at least. "I've always wondered what it would do".

"Hmm" the Cobra hummed a thought, thinking of a potential idea what they could do together, to discover if what Faora said was true back in 42. "How about we discover that... Tomorrow? You and I" he offered as she smiled funnily.

"I thought you weren't cleared for duty?" she asked with a curious smile.

"Who says I need to be cleared for duty? It's not like we're going on a covert mission, right?" the pair still rocked side to side, slowly turning in the same spot still as Y/N's question repeated in Kara's head as she thought for the minute, her eyes off of him to think so she couldn't get too distracted.

"{You're right}" she smiles after thinking, taking up on his offer. "On one condition" she locked eyes with him next.

"What would that be, my dear?" he smirked.

"Can I stay over? It's... Been a while since I last awakened beside you... In a more comfortable spot" she eyed the bed for a moment's notice before looking back at him.

"I'm sure my mother would be fine with that, I'll ask her, highly doubt she'd say no, think she already likes you" he nodded in agreement with a smile still on his face. "But... Let's enjoy the dance, I've been wanting this for a long time".

"I agree" she nodded. Before kissing him softly, her lips were soft like a cushion, pressing against his gently, with Y/N deepening the kiss by melting into her lips, the soft, smacking sounds overlapped by the music still playing as they slowly danced.

"I love you, Kara Starikov" Y/N pulled back slightly to communicate, both smiling softly.

"I love you too, Y/N L/N".

🎵 It's Been a Long, Long Time...🎵

______________________________________________________________

Fin...

Word Count: 5434

[blueiscoool]

Britain's Oldest Gold Coin Hoard Discovered

The oldest hoard of gold coins in Britain, dating back 2,173 years, was discovered by a metal detectorist.

The 12 Iron Age artifacts were discovered by Stephen Eldridge while scouring fields in Buckinghamshire.

They were built in 150 BC by a tribe in what is now Picardy, France, according to experts at the British Museum.

According to speculation, the coins were likely transferred to Britain in return for Celtic mercenaries who were sent to Gaul in western Europe to fight the Romans.

A hoard from this date is extremely uncommon, even though individual gold coins from this era have been discovered before.

The coins will now likely sell for £30,000 when they are put up for auction at London's Spink & Son.

In November 2019, Mr. Eldridge, 68, discovered the coins in the Buckinghamshire community of Ashley Green.

The Catuvellauni tribe first settled in the region about 150 BC, and during the ensuing century they grew to become the most dominant tribe in Britain.

Mr. Eldridge has put the coins up for auction with London-based coin specialists Spink after going through the treasure process.

The coins' roughly 75% gold content with an alloy of silver and copper was validated by scientific x-ray fluorescence analysis, indicating the economy in which Britain's first gold coinage were circulating.

The coins are now expected to sell for £30,000 when they go under the hammer at London auctioneers Spink & Son

Gregory Edmund, of Spink & Son, said: “Whilst individual gold coins of this period have been recorded across south east England, it is incredibly rare for a trove of this size or date to be uncovered. Contemporary local coinage was simply cast base metal issues called 'potins'. Whoever successfully imported this trove of gold coins would have undoubtedly wielded influence in the region.

They would have been exported, probably in exchange for mercenaries, equipment and hunting dogs to fight the Romans or other tribes in Belgium. Twenty or thirty years after they were deposited we started to get the first British coins in the same style. These coins were in the wealthiest part of the English kingdom. A hoard of this size and period is unprecedented in the archaeological record. There was one other hoard from this period of three coins found. These coins have been well used, it is very clear they are not fresh when they are put in the ground, but still retain remarkable details of a seldom-seen Iron Age art form.

It is often speculated that the portraiture of this coinage was deliberately androgynous despite being modelled on the classical male god Apollo. The feminine styling is probably a reflection of the political significance of women in Iron Age society, that enabled such historical figures as Cartimandua and Boudicca to rise to prominence and our now national folklore. It is incredibly satisfying to assist in the proper recording, academic analysis and now sale of these prestigious prehistoric relics.”

Following the coroner's inquest, the British Museum made the decision to disclaim the coins, which means they now belong to the finder.

The landowner will receive a portion of Mr. Eldridge's earnings.

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

In Love, in War Pt. 1 | Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary | She (the reader) comes from a wealthy family in Birmingham, England and he (Thomas Shelby) comes from a family of no-good troublemakers in Small Heath. Their worlds finally collide when Thomas lands himself in the triage tent of a nearby hospital camp during the battle of the Somme with a neck wound. Past traumas and heavy-handed words open old wounds, and yet, they always find their way back to Birmingham.

Warnings | Blood, gore, mentions of sex (not yet explicit), war, death, and out-dated language ("Gypsies").

Hey- Pixies 🎶

Bodysnatchers- Radiohead 🎵

Word count: 1812k

Not proofread- my b, folks!

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Yes, she knew of the Shelbys, who didn’t? She just didn’t really care. She kept her life away from the dark underbelly of Birmingham, and more focused on the bright future in front of her. She was born into a good family with sterling silver spoons in their tea set and barbs strung into their pearls. She was destined for great things, good houses, and well-groomed men with boring Christian names. That was until the beginning of the Great War and most of those men died in the pits of France and Germany. She was engaged once too, to one of those men. 

His name was Frances Gild Jr. and he loved her. He was the heir to a banking fortune with a passion for the arts. He was beyond beautiful with short blonde ringlets and blue eyes. Her daddy loved him and blessed the union when Francis asked for her hand, sliding a large diamond engagement ring onto her finger. That was two months before Britain joined the war. They were still naive enough to sneak behind the kitchen into the distant sheds to have their way with one another. They were young and prudent so their kisses were prideful and polite. Their love-making was brief and unexceptional, legs splayed in the air and fine silk ripped by old sawdust. When the war began, Francis was 20, two years her senior and assumed he was ready for war because his daddy was a Lieutenant. 

There was no time for a wedding, at least that’s what Francis said as he rushed to the front. To wait for his return and to do her part in the war effort, she trained as a nurse. Was she a good nurse? Not particularly. She often fainted from the sight of blood which brought discomfort simply from her period much less an amputated appendage. But she learned how to cope, mostly. The smell of blood was the hardest to ignore. It seemed to never wash out as much as she scrubbed beneath the beds of her nails and behind her ears, the smell was a constant companion. 

It took her a couple of months to complete the basic training course but soon after she was sent to a hospital in London to work on more serious injuries before going directly into the field. She was allowed to go home on the weekends to visit her parents in Birmingham’s wealthier neighborhoods. The job was hard and it didn’t pay well but it afforded her a bit of peace in the whole ordeal, knowing that she was helping English soldiers in some small way. She felt like she could reach Frances through these patients who came in for breaks and fractures, not gunshots or paranoia. It was during one of these long night shifts that she received the telegram postmarked from Frances Gild. She opened the envelope without concern, having received one a week since the beginning of April. That is the night she learned that Francis Gild jr. had died somewhere on the western front, spoiling in mud like old fruit. She’d overlooked the postage from Birmingham, assuming it was just another letter from her fiance, which it wasn’t. It bore his death in plain script, emotionless and frigid. 

“FRANCIS DEAD STOP KILLED IN ACTION STOP WILL SEND NEWS STOP GOD BLESS STOP.” 

She dropped the yellow paper on the clean linoleum floor and felt her jaw fall open in a shocked gasp. Nurses on the night shift rushed to quiet her or comfort her. She paled and clutched the sharp edge of the desk for support. 

“It will be ok.” Voices whispered in her ear. 

“You poor soul.” Others crossed themselves like preventing a bad curse, a hex. A dead fiance disease that carries onto young well-meaning women in close proximity; more always follow the first. 

Francis was the first for her. He was many of her firsts. In a cab back to Birmingham, she thought of the first time they had made-love. He’d finished in a matter of minutes, panting against her chest like a puppy. His eyes bore into her with more passion than his thrusts. He was her first kiss, stolen after dinner behind the china cabinet when the adults had gone through to tea and brandy. That man was dead now, and she imagined his beautiful blue eyes closed forever under the casket’s heavy lid, buried somewhere in his family’s mausoleum outside Birmingham. And what did this leave her? Not a widow, and yet, she believed in a way, she was. 

She was excused from service for three months, allotting her the same mourning period as a widow though she officially lacked the title. She was nearly two years into her training when Francis died and the war waged on in countries that seemed so far away from her house on Claremont. When she was called back to service, she went with a black armband and her light blue uniform. She was dispatched to France and left right away with a British medical unit, relieving the unit stationed at the Somme. During her months of mourning, she had avoided newspapers and prints about the war in France, so the Somme meant nothing to her. They were escorted in large covered trucks with heavy trunks of supplies and rations. Americans followed behind, whistling after the young nurses like the warning knell of a whizbang. 

The medical camp was a shock for her in sight, smell, and noise. Distant bombing and gunfire rang in her ears and vibrated the very pit of her soul. Blood and the threat of blood was as thick as the mud encircling the camp. She thought back to the sterling silver spoons of her youth as she waded through the fecal matter and mud to the office tent. She was assigned to triage. 

“Just assess the situation. Write down the serious injuries, treat the basics, and set those aside who will live for the next few hours. Use your judgment, girls.” The head nurse directed them, holding the girl back as the others hurried to the triage tent. “Word of advice?” The head nurse pursed her lips. 

“Yes, ma’am?” The girl responded. 

“Take off the armband, you’ll look like the Angel of Death out there.” 

She removed the armband strapped around her arm as she moved to the triage tent. Soldiers screamed and pleaded for assistance while others lay dying and without the strength to speak. She followed the movements of the other nurses, checking the bodies and scrambling for pencils and paper dotting with blood and mud. 

“Please help me!” One boy cried and grabbed her sleeve. She recorded his injuries and sent him to the hospital tent. 

“You’ll be fine.” She called after him as he disappeared through the thick canvas drapes. 

She marked down the men she saw who could not be saved and passed them along with a sorrowful shake of her head. The men she saw passed her by in blurs of colors and sounds like silent films in fast motion, a puppet book whose pages flip so fast that a story appears between them. 

The second week she was moved to the hospital tent which doubled as the operation theater. She was not formally trained in surgery but had picked it up in the months of study and shadowing she managed to procure in London. As long as her patients didn’t die, the doctors were willing to let nurses take over due to the lack of helpful hands and skill. Her long habit-like nurse’s cap was pinned up to her head to prevent the veil from falling into open wounds. She washed her hands as another patient was carried into the tent.  

“God dammit.” One boy cursed loudly, clutching his neck with a dirty palm. She scanned his body for further damage and accessed the neck wound. 

“Large cut from metal shrapnel. Some kind of grenade.” A second nurse who had followed the stretcher with the patient. 

“Thank you, Mandy.” She nodded to the nurse. “Sir, I need you to move your hand from the cut.” She spoke loudly over the man’s curses.

“Fuck that. I’m gonna bleed out.” He growled through his heaving breaths. 

“You’ll bleed out if you don’t move your bloody hand.” She retorted, her hand full of gauze. “I’ll pack the wound so that I can look at it, ok?” 

“Fuck me!” He yelled at the tent’s ceiling and reluctantly moved his hand. Blood spurted out from his neck before she could clamp the clean gauze down on the agitated wound.

“Ok, ok.” She soothed, frantically applying pressure and wiping the area with strong alcohol. “Mandy, hold this against the wound, I need to close it.” She ordered and switched with Mandy, rummaging through a cart of supplies with bloody hands. She removed a surgeon’s needle and thread for stitches. 

“She threaded the needle and pierced the skin around the wound with the needle, pulling the two sides of flesh together with quick movements. 

The soldier screamed and thrashed on the ground. 

“I need help over here!” She yelled over her shoulder. Two men ran over and held his arms down as she tried to finish quickly. 

“I’m sorry, sir!” She weaved the needle through one last time and tied it off. Pouring alcohol on the finished stitches, she caught her breath. “It’s done.” She gasped out and nodded to the men. They released the soldier who looked to be on the verge of unconsciousness. Mandy removed the bloody gauze and moved to the next patient.

“Give us some of that.” He panted and pointed weakly to the bottle of gin she’d been using to clean wounds. She handed it over and he took a strong swig of the horrible drink. 

“I hope,” he panted, “that I never have to see you again.” He handed back the bottle. 

“I wish the same, sir.” She nodded and stood. His hand shot out from his side and gripped her wrist with renewed strength. 

“What’s your name, nurse?” He tried to smirk. She noticed his large blue eyes as she told him. He loosened his grip on her wrist and gave a nod. 

“Thomas.” He swallowed. She paused for a moment, registering his clipt cocky accent. “Pleased to meet you.” He added when she said nothing. 

“You’ll be taken back to the infirmary to rest. Try not to move your neck because you may loosen the stitches. Don’t waste the stitches, Thomas.” She joked lightly. 

“Is that what you care about then?” He smiled. 

“What?” 

“The stitches.” 

“Yes, and you by extension. Your life is my responsibility but stitches cost money.” She laughed and stood again. 

“Good to know where we stand.” He called softly from the ground and she allowed herself to smile as she met the next group of patients.

...................

End part 1 :)