#they’re in their married era here
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wanted to draw some tender Great Comet of 1812 AU Hawke and Anders because they are so very special to me!!!
#my art#pose from that one iwtv screencap#they’re in their married era here#after The Horrors subside#so stupid in love it hurts#dragon age 2#hawke#anders#handers#garrett hawke#dragon age#bioware#video games#the great comet of 1812#the great comet#war and peace#musical theater#musicals
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lxl are the only ones who can get married twice and go on two honeymoons without being a canon couple (yet…?)
#there’s no longer any point to saying ‘aiyuu married’ bc we’ve seen them get married twice (but nothing happened!!!)#you’d think they’d realise that something’s up when they had to get married in an mv for a second time but nooooo they’re too dumb for that#granted the first one had yumeru as a third wheel but she’s just a lizbeth +1 in the situation to me#though im sorry but everytime i see/hear of lxl getting married i think of their fiancé dance with the ‘kiss kiss kiss’#i want them to do that dance at their wedding lmaoooo#people on lxl twt are talking about wanting them to get married in last stage… b u t they’ve already gotten married in meoto—#seriously love how lxl twt have a single collective braincell lmao#[ny aizo cg drops] ‘omg aiyuu married’#[honeypre kyoto event drops] ‘omg aiyuu honeymoon’#[meoto’s (fake news) summary drops]: ‘oMG AIYUU MARRIED IN SENGOKU ERA THEY LOVE EACH OTHER’#[izumo anime trailer drops] ‘omggggg aiyuu honeymoon!!!! again!!!!’ (begins referring to it as the honeymoon anime)#great community we have over here. as long as you ignore the occasional beef that pops up at the most unexpected of times#in any case i hope lxl do not hold hands or kiss or anything in last stage so that i won’t have to walk back my outlandish promises lmao
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The thing the people don’t tell you about re-parenting yourself/similar gambits is that for bitches of a particular temperament (it’s me I’m bitches) it sometimes makes you so so mad when it works. Sold all my baby dolls in a garage sale when I was eight not because I didn’t want to them anymore but because I thought I shouldn’t want them anymore, and now the only thing that had me sleeping like a rock after fortnight of hells is this elaborate LARP so I can convince my central nervous system that there is someone in charge who a) wants to take care of shit and b) can take care of shit.
RSD emotional hangover making you too agitated to sleep even though you’re intellectually aware the conflict is resolved? Not anymore with the power of making dairy-free chocolate milk and listening to ten minutes of Dune on audiobook while reading alongside on your e-reader before you pass the fuck out.
Like you would think cringing into the sun* would keep one even more awake than the vague background radiation of little-T traumas (which has actually reduced after five years of medication and psychology appointments), but I guess it is really about quantity over quality. Guess one big cringe is less impactful than the relief from convincing the quivering little toddler that’s been left in charge of the sleep lever in your brain to come out from under the desk and do their job by putting up a sort of flimsy curtain so they can no longer see the wall of painting symbolising your mild disconcerting experiences
And I reference temperament when I know that my annoyance is in fact also a huge part to do with socialisation, particularly being primed towards abnegation + a fundamental suspicion towards adults engaging with things culturally associated with Children and Childhood, both of which are things I challenge on principle consciously/intellectually. But knowing that it’s completely harmless, and like hey I could be doing meth or something, does not change the fact that when I mimic the running commentary I do with babysitting kids Just In My Head To Myself and immediately become head-nodding sleepy, I’m instantly like “oh we respond to this and not a haunting amount of melatonin? cool. yeah. sure.”
(*Of course none of this is cringe when other people do it, as they are allowed to experience Quirks and Vulnerabilities in peace because they are Not Me. That said, when I’m not venting on tumblr dot org I do generally avoid calling any of this stuff cringe bc I am aware that caveating with “This only applies to me because I’m Not Like Other Girls (I’m Worse)” often doesn’t actually make the other person feel assured you’re not judging them.)
#whatever that post is that’s like#having a mother should be in the dsm and also not having a mother should be in the dsm#we’re running out of options here gang!!!#like fundamentally that is my annoyance I think#like I don’t want my mother having been sick/not fully recovered from her own trauma to impact something as ‘mundane’ as sleep#also there’s all the complexities of like I didn’t enjoy being a kid very much the first time around#like I wasn’t physically unsafe and I did have some emotionally safe adults like I can always have been worse#*it can always have been worse wow rip Freud you would have loved my typos#(actually he probably would have loved this whole thing lmao)#but yeah like Being A Kid was the worst part of that era of life if that makes sense#the fact the demonstrated solution is Tactical Childhood LARP is just like booooooooo human body do better#also obviously I worry that this sort of thing would impact my ability for have a partner or kids or w/e#but I also worry about that with everything mental health#I suppose the difference here is my many many thoughts about the infanalisation of women in general#and autistic/nd/disabled women in specific#but like if someone is marrying me - a research academic - thinking they’re getting a demure and malleable small bean#like they’re an idiot that’s on them lol#anyway#delete later#?#we’ll see how I feel#it me
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cling to me
I know I said I was going to distance myself from this piece of media because of all of its terrible connections, but these two characters seem to have taken root in a permanent place in my heart, and I can't let them go.
Anyway, here's some character design notes below the cut for the one person out there who's obsessed with these characters as much as me.
Early DSMP: the era of childhood innocence
Bandanas: They sport each other’s bandana’s (they’re hidden in the design for every era). I love character designs with complementary colors (and I love how red and green are also cranboo’s colors)
Disks: Early on, cat and mellohi represent the peaceful moments ctommy shared with his favorite people, but they went on to be a symbol of victory and independence from the people who have hurt him.
Flowers: Ctubbo collects flowers and tries to memorize the meanings and symbolism tied to each type of flower. He also collects them for his bees.
L’manberg: the era where children became soldiers
Horns: Ctubbo’s horns start to grow in here.
Pogtopia: the era of an exile and a secretary of state / spy
You can tell I joined the fandom at the end of this era because I don’t have many notes here or for the l’manberg era.
Exile: the era of an exile once again and and a president too young
Hair: Ctommy’s hair starts to grow longer as he neglects taking care of himself.
Clothes: Ctommy’s clothes are tattered; one shoe is destroyed and he took to wearing cw-lbur’s (f-ck ccw-lbur btw!!) trench coat.
Bandages: Ctubbo’s wrapped in bandages from his recently earned firework burns. He’s gone blind in his right eye, and he’s missing the ring and pinkie finger on his right hand.
Compasses: They share their matching ‘your tommy’ and ‘your tubbo’ compasses
Hog Hunt: the era where one sought to kill the blood god while the other sought refuge there
Stolen goods: Ctommy’s has his antarctic empire outfit plus all the goods he stole from ctechno like the turtle helmet, golden apples, and the axe of peace.
Bedrock: Ctommy wears his counterpart piece matching techno’s from his ear.
Prosthetic: Ctommy’s right foot had to be amputated after he loses it to frostbite in the trek to cemeraldduo’s cabin. Ctechno gives him a simple prosthetic.
Disc Finale: the era of mended relationships and a final stand
Headband: Ctommy begins to wear a devil headband to fit in more, as he’s one of the few humans on the server. The devil horns were chosen to resemble ceryn’s real ones.
Patchwork: Ctommy learns to sew, and he fixes his tattered clothes from exile.
Post Revival:
Devil horns: Ctommy’s devil horns (plus a tail) become real after revival, and he gets a white streak in his hair.
Prime cross: The bad things that have happened to them both that they survived strengthen ctommy’s faith in prime, whereas they weaken ctubbo’s faith.
Sweater: Ctommy makes himself a sweater from friend’s wool.
Mechanical inventions: Ctubbo pursues his passion for engineering more as he makes mechanical bee drones and studies nuclear physics. He also makes himself prosthetic fingers, and he upgrades ctommy’s prosthetic foot.
Marriage ring: Ctubbo marries cranboo platonically and wears the ring on his horn. He also founds snowchester so he can have a place to protect his loved ones and raise his son. He grows out his hair to avoid eye contact for cranboo and to cover his scars.
Body type: Ctubbo gets chubbier and gains some muscle as he gets a bit happier in life.
Post DSMP:
The prison break and everything after it never happened. These are my OCs, and I make the rules because every actor/writer who played a part in their creation either abandoned them or turned out to be a terrible person. Cbenchtrio live happily ever after and begin their journey of healing while cdream rots in prison forever.
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Love You FURever - Toto Wolff x Vet! Reader
Summary: When Toto marries a vet, he realises his life consists of yelling about cars and fostering injured animals.
Fluff. Humour. Pinterest pics.
Requested: Yes by anon. Sorry this is only a small one
F1 Masterlist
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ynwolff just posted
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ynwolff some friends from work
1,681 comments
maxverstappen1 sassy and jimmy said they’ve never enjoyed a vet visit so much
→ ynwolff bring them back anytime! such lovely cats
user toto’s plan to get max to mercedes is by making his wife befriend his cats liked by ynwolff
→ user ahah she liked. she’s so funny
lewishamilton roscoe says he can’t wait for his check-up
→ ynwolff i can’t wait to see my sweet boy
→ georgerussell63 i miss when i was your sweet boy
→ ynwolff i’ve been around you too long. you stopped being my sweet boy last year
albon_pets any room for more friends?
→ ynwolff there’s always room for f1 pets
→ user this just makes me think she set up her own clinic purely so she could look after the f1 animals
→ user agreed because she attends every race where a pet is so she can be on hand for them
charles_leclerc this is my sign to get a dog
→ user yes! charles dog dad era needed
mercedesamgf1 i thought we were friends… but you haven’t visited us for ages :(
→ ynwolff don’t make me tell my husband that you’re emotionally blackmailing me
→ mercedesamgf1 he told us to (and there’s no proof if we delete the comment)
→ ynwolff (i have it printed out)
→ user omfg she’s defo the funniest wag
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mercedesamgf1 just posted
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mercedesamgf1 boss man hard at work
4,463 comments
ynwolff tell him not to look so serious. he’ll scare the children
→ totowolff my love, i can see your comments.
→ ynwolff when did you do this? why do you follow mercedes and your drivers and not ME!
→ user toto sleeping on the couch later liked by ynwolff
kimi.antonelli 😊
user i hope he’s trying to figure out how to fix the shit box that is the W15
user he’s such a grandpa with his tied sweaters
→ totowolff i am not a grandpa.
→ ynwolff so when you were complaining about your back aching and begging for a rub?
→ user i bet he doesn’t act like a grandpa at home, that’s how they ended up with a 6 year old
→ georgerussell63 guys, he can see these comments now fyi
user definitely the hottest team principal liked by ynwolff
→ totowolff with the hottest wife.
→ user omg they’re so down bad for each other that he’s breaking pr rules for her
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wolffcare just posted
liked by roscoelovescoco, albon_pets and others
wolffcare boss of the month
933 comments
ynwolff i paid them to post this. literally
→ wolffcare that only makes it like 5% less true
roscoelovescoco vets of thes years
charles_leclerc leo is looking forward to his first trip to the vets tomorrow
maxverstappen1 would recommend
lewishamilton 10/10
alex_albon the cats are begging me to make them fat so they have a reason to come visit you
→ ynwolff stop feeding them cheese
user why are all the f1 drivers here?
→ totowolff because this is my wife.
→ user when he claims you
→ user girl bffr
→ user starting to feel like toto only made an insta so he could join the drivers in praising her online
mercedesamgf1 if the w15 was an animal, we would trust you with it more than toto
→ totowolff my office. monday. 9am.
→ mercedesamgf1 crap
→ ynwolff they were complimenting me, my love
→ totowolff fine.
→ totowolff @/mercedesamgf1 make that 10am.
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ynwolff just posted
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ynwolff my best friends for the weekend
3,311 comments
user omg the fact that she cropped out toto
totowolff liebling, are we no longer friends?
→ ynwolff you left your wet towel on the bed again so no
→ user oh so it’s not just my husband
→ user even millionaires piss off their wives
→ totowolff *billionaire.
roscoelovescoco my favourites grand prixs buddy
→ ynwolff my favourite bulldog
georgerussell63 offended that i’m not in this
→ ynwolff toto, your child is pestering me again
→ lewishamilton actually, i’m a little offended that I’m not in this either but bono is
→ ynwolff omg lewis i’m so sorry. i'll dedicate a whole post to you this weekend
→ georgerussell63 wow
user jack is so cute. he’s the perfect combination of toto and yn
→ totowolff yn did a great job, didn’t she?
→ ynwolff stop trying to convince me to have another
→ user omg he’s trying to get her to have more!
mercedesamgf1 we love having the three of you in the garage. brings us more luck
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totowolff just posted
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totowolff gentleman, if you fall in love with a vet, she will give you the best family. but far too many animals in your home
4,477 comments
mercedesamgf1 the cutest family 🩵
lewishamilton is this the puppy that was going to be put down?
→ totowolff yes. yn rescued him and i couldn’t say no.
georgerussell63 so that makes one child, three cats, two hamsters, two cows and a puppy. what’s next?
→ ynwolff i really want a pig but toto says he doesn’t like the noise :(
→ user isn’t he trying to get you to have another baby? how is that noise okay?
albon_pets we should open up a zoo together
→ totowolff don’t give her ideas!
charles_leclerc omg when can we meet him!?
→ ynwolff he’ll be at the next couple of races
f1wags what a lovely picture of yn and jack
ynwolff you shouldn't call your son an animal. he’s only a little feral. he gets that from you
→ totowolff i watched you tear into a steak yesterday. not sure i’m the cause.
→ ynwolff uh, you were the cause of my craving for steak
→ totowolff who knew getting you pregnant made you such a carnivore.
→ user pregnant?!
→ user baby #2?!?!
→ user definitely not a grandpa
→ ynwolff toto!
→ totowolff this is why i didn’t want an instagram!
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Requests open! Now include Franco Colapinto and K Mag
Tag list
@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius
#formula 1#f1#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 headcanon#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 headcanon#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#toto wolff#toto wolff imagine#toto wolff drabble#toto wolff headcanon#toto wolff one shot#toto wolff fluff#toto wolff smau#toto wolff x reader
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yes, and? | max verstappen
summary: max’s impossible crush finally notice him, but he’s stuck in a pr relationship
fc: simone ashley
a/n: so i try something a bit different with this one and made it on the longer side (if you’ve listened to ariana’s song you know this is gonna be messy for sure) (also, simone ashley??? or the prettiest woman ever??? i’m obsessed with her)
—
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and others
maxverstappen1 life off track
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username i screamed cried and fainted
username second pic should be illegal
megan.galanis 🥰
username not the pr girlfriend 🙄
username omg let them live!
username they’re dating, get over it
username the third pic pls he’s so POOKIE
username number 1 stan of max’s thighs
username thirsting on main???
username PLS because how can you not ??
liked by maxverstappen1, bffusername and others
ynusername bridgerton press tour at it’s finest 💍
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username MOTHER
username you’re the prettiest woman alive😩
username yn just one chance please !
bffusername slayyyy
yourusername 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽
jbayleaf viscountess activities😎
yourusername 🐝🐝🐝
username im in love with a woman i’ve never met
tiktok comments
username never took max for a bridgerton guy???
username not complaining tho
username max in his regency romance era🤭
username now i get why he’s always in y/n’s likes like damn i too would be obsessed after watching her on that show
ynusername thank you! <3
liked by scuderiaferrari, maxverstappen1 and others
ynusername it’s the monaco grand prix! i never miss the grand prix🏁
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username yn and f1 my two passions❤️
username the way yn always serves cunt MUST be studied
bffusername is it? who’s playing?
username ohhh the reference i love them!
username gorgeous! 😍
username i’m in awe
maxverstappen1 🤣
liked by schecoperez, landonorris and others
maxverstappen1 P1 in Monaco🏆🇲🇨
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username the icon, the legend, the moment
username max verstappen, the only man ever🫶🏽
charles_leclerc nice one mate, congrats! 👊🏽
username no megan appearance, no like, no comment… are we out of the woods?
username oh wow, she didn’t go to 1 race, they obviously must have broken up 🙄
username no but seriously, did her contract ended or something?
username girl why are you so obsessed with their relationship? just leave them alone srsly
liked by megan.galantis, bffusername and others
f1gossippofficial max verstappen has been seen lately on multiple dates with actress y/n y/l/n around monaco
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username he’s been seen on WHAT
username with WHOM
username but… what about megan…
username what about her?
username never thought of y/n as a homewrecker
username never thought of max as a CHEATER!
username im not mad about this pairing tbh🤔
username megan liking this post and unliking it???
username and y/n’s best friend liking it also
username she’s so unserious
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ynusername moments📷
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username bestie who took the pics?👀
username don’t be shy you can tell us🤭
username THE PEOPLE’S PRINCESS
bffusername the most beautiful and pretty and talented and funny and smart and
ynusername i’ll marry you rn😩
username after those pics with max i can’t see her the same
username HOMEWRECKER
username haters gonna hate fr y/n i love you if you see this! 💕
maxverstappen1 🥰 (liked by ynusername)
username oh that’s not…
username this is so wrong in so many levels😭
liked by carlossainz55, ynusername and others
maxverstappen1 another successful weekend for the team, hopefully many more to come! 🇨🇦
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username “hopefully many more to come” as if we don’t know he’s gonna win all the races already
username being a red bull fan is sooo easy and fun i love it here
username i miss seeing megan in the paddock :(
username jesus christ who understands you, when she was there you hated on her and when she isn’t you miss her
username also, she just missed two races, like😭
username let’s goooo super max
redbullracing many more to come👊🏽
ynusername 🏎🏎 (liked by maxverstappen1)
username she really has no shame huh?
liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others
ynusername yes, and?
tagged maxverstappen1
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username this was the last thing i expected when i open instagram
username pls the caption😭
username she’s NOT a serious person and i love her for it
username welcome back ariana grande😍
landonorris and my credits for the last picture?
ynusername props to you🙄
username hottest couple imo
username this post single handedly convinced me to watch her show
username it’s so good honestly!!
username yesss y/n and max bringing back messy celebrity couples we love to see it!
maxverstappen1 my one and only girlfriend you’re everything❤️
ynusername you’re too much love!💘
username not the “one and only girlfriend” !!
#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fluff#f1 x reader#f1#formula one#formula one x reader#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#simone ashley#mv1#smau#max verstappen smau#f1 smau#formula 1 smau#social media au#mv33#ariana grande
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Sukuna is Peak Gap Moe. I’ll never be over this. This bastard talks tough, eats people, and kills like a woodchipper and yet…he is a poetic little sap. Getting mad over an improper haikus, the misidentification of flowers…and confessing his feelings to Gojo Satoru under several layers of wordplay no one except those well-versed in ancient Japanese would catch.
I've been over this in greater detail in Sukuna's Negative Rizz, but @tangsakura added more context in the replies to that post, making Sukuna's use of 凡夫 (bonpu) for Gojo even gayer.
In summary, 凡夫 (bonpu) can be translated as painfully ordinary or unenlightened. But in the individual kanji readings, 凡 is mediocre and 夫 is husband. You could read this as Sukuna calling Gojo his mediocre husband. And that's just the modern readings! The ancient readings...
So you can read this line from Sukuna as the following:
“You were born in an era without me and hailed as 'The Strongest'
1) And yet you turned out to be…painfully ordinary.”
2) And yet you turned out to be…unenlightened.”
3) And yet you turned out to be…a mediocre husband/wife/spouse.”
4) And yet you turned out to be…the ordinary one who could stand by my side.”
Sukuna seems to be saying these things all at once. (It’s no different than the Megumi Activities wordplay he uses with Enchain. Alt. link if the Twitter dies.) Gojo apparently makes him feel very conflicted. He’s boring, he can do better, he shouldn’t even call himself the Honored One, he’s his equal, they’re married. The irony here is that no one except Sukuna can understand this.
#cactus shut up#Also he said this live on TV and the chapter ended on ''the one who will teach you love is…''#I’m isolating this from Sukuna’s Negative Rizz because I want more people to see and understand Sukuna called Gojo his wife.#Well his girlhusband boywife spouse who is also totally mid and ordinary and the one who could stand by his side.#When the ''Sukuna is having dead wife flashbacks'' is no longer a joke.#I am once again asking. When the everloving fudge did Sukuna decide they were married.#I understand wedding ceremonies weren’t really a thing in the Heian Era. But what the hell Sukuna.#What a fudging sap. I hate him. I’m going to call him slurs.#When I say this motherfudger is Beatrice I’m serious.#He killed Gojo by making him the center of his world and expected this physics major to understand the abstract symbolism of the violence.#Sukuna doesn’t know what to do with his feelings for Gojo and he made it everyone’s problem.#Gege’s toxic doomed yaoi has me Obsessed.#sukugo#ryomen sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jjk spoilers
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Smitten
I had this idea for a JayTim that I want to share.
Obviously there is no canon here, for the record.
In addition we have a version of Jack and Janet Drake that do love their son, they just have a really bad grasp on age appropriate supervision and activities. They honestly believe that a nine year old can be left alone with only a periodic check from a housekeeper (Also they are aware that Tim leaves the premises almost every night with a camera, they also believe this is a reasonable activity). Like the very embodiment ‘they’re confused, but they got spirit’. Believe me when I say this will be relevant later.
We are also bringing Jason and Tim’s ages just a hair closer together. This starts with Jason being 14 and Tim being 13, at the annual holiday Wanye Gala. This particular time Jack, Janet, and Tim are in attendance.
It starts with some boorish rich asshole, a little too drunk and being stupid about it, making an insulting comment about Janet Drake, heard by Tim. Now Tim loves his mother, and does not appreciate this man who insulted her.
Thirteen year old Tim verbally eviscerates this man, his voice an icy even tone that everyone around recognized from Tim’s mother Janet. Tim’s diatribe of insults and threats leverages this man's secrets, his fears, and insecurities that he didn't even realize he had. Ten minutes in, this man begins to cry. Just the complete, public, destruction of a middle aged rich drunk by a tiny thirteen year old. The Drake family proceeds to exit after Tim winds down, never looking back (it was later in the evening anyway).
Jason, standing off to one side next to Dick, falls immediately and completely in love. Smitten through and through. The first words out of his mouth, after the Drakes leave, is ‘We’re going to get married on that boy’s 18th birthday’. This was heard by just about everyone present. Jason did not even know Tim’s name yet.
By the next morning Jason has used the BatComputer to discover that his future spouse is named Timothy Drake, he lives next door, and that he is 14 months younger than Jason. At breakfast Jason very seriously, though a touch maniacally, tells Bruce that he would be marrying Tim when Tim turned 18, and that before that point they would be telling Tim about their ‘nightlife’ on the grounds that “we should not start our marriage off with secrets”. Jason magnanimously told Bruce that he had until Tim was 17 to get his feelings under control about the reveal (to give a full year before the wedding, in case Tim needed an adjustment period or Jason needed to win him back).
Bruce is already very tired.
Jason finds any occasion to seek out Tim Drake, to get to know his future spouse (the entire time Jason Mantra-having gotten some good advice from Alfred about becoming friends with and maybe dating Tim before anything else-is ‘Don’t start talking about the wedding, don’t start talking about the wedding’). Also every piece of romantic knowledge/flirting knowledge that Jason has comes from the regency era/Victorian era romances he reads.
Tim, for his part, believes that Jason (Tim’s Robin and crush) has figured out that Tim knows Robin’s identity and is trying to subtly figure out how much Tim knows and what he is going to do about it; but for some reason Jason is not asking directly and Tim is enjoying getting closer to the other boy, so he does not admit to what he knows.
This leads to some painfully stilted conversations and weird interactions, but every so often both will forget to be awkward and it becomes clear, whenever they actually act naturally, that they are very well matched.
To the Gotham Elites, this is the best entertainment in years. Between Bruce Wayne’s ‘Brucie’ act and Dick’s feral behavior growing up, Jason’s bookish politeness makes him the ‘best behaved’ Wayne and honestly the most well liked one. Combined that with how sweet he is acting with Tim and that this all started with Tim defending his mother, well this is the love story of the ages, happening right in front of them.
Bruce and the Drakes are already fielding requests for invitations to the wedding. On a slightly more creepy note they are also receiving offers to be a surrogate for the boy’s to ‘continue the bloodline’ when the time comes.
Bruce is honestly wondering if everyone forgot that Jason is adopted. Dick comes to Gotham more often, because he is also finding this immensely entertaining.
A few months in, this leads to Batman, Nightwing, and Robin finding Tim taking pictures on a rooftop in the Bowery. In Tim’s rush to apologize (he is starting to feel a bit guilty about his picture taking pictures of the Bats now that he has an actual relationship-where he believes that they know he knows who they are-instead of a parasocial relationship) it becomes clear that Tim knows their civilian identities and that they did not know that Tim knew their civilian identities.
Tim gives his explanation (a quadruple flip that only a few people in the world can do and connecting the dots from there). Jason immediately blurts out ‘Go on a date with me?’ and is quite proud that he kept the ‘Marry me?’ behind his teeth (The earliest they could get married in New Jersey is 17, and only with parental consent. Jason had 4 years to convince the Drakes to let him marry their son, 5 if they don’t like him). Tim turns bright red and squeaks out a ‘Yes’.
The next gala they enter holding hands. Dick is quickly sought after by the Elite for gossip. Dick confirms that Tim and Jason are now dating, and that Jason insisted on a chaperone for their dates (Jason is still working off the regency/victorian era romantic relationships) so that nothing would ‘besmirch Tim’s honor’. There is an entire crowd of cooing Gothamites around Dick as they discuss how these two got even more adorable, all the while watching Jason and Tim surreptitiously.
At some point Bruce has to have a very surreal conversation with Jack and Janet Drake about when it is appropriate to leave one's children alone and for how long and at what ages. Jack and Janet, upon being convinced that they should not leave their 13 year old alone for weeks or months at a time, rearrange their future plans so that one of them is almost always home (and on the few occasions that they would have to Tim by himself, Tim would stay with the Waynes).
By the way, Jack and Janet love Jason, they can see how much he makes their son happy and are glad to support the relationship.
Now I see this continuing one of two ways.
The first way is that this derails Ethiopia. Jason still fights with Batman, but runs to Janet Drake (who is home) and Tim. He does not discover that Catherine is not his mother until later, but is not missing parental influences and does some digging but does not go to meet Sheila. Tim becomes Oracle’s apprentice.
Alternately, it does not derail Ethiopia. Janet and Jack, on one of the few business trips that required both of them, is woken up by a call from an inconsolable Tim who tells them Jason has been killed by the Joker (both Jack and Janet having been let in on the secret at some point). Janet immediately hires Deathstroke and Talia Al Ghul to kill the Joker (Janet contemplated having them bring the Joker to her, so she could do it and make sure he understood why-he killed her future son in law and made her son cry- but realized that the why would never actually matter to Joker) and paid extra to make it look like natural causes (to lessen the attention on the bastard). Two weeks after Jason Todd’s funeral, the Joker dropped dead of an apparent heart attack, there was not even enough time to get him back in Arkham.
The Gotham Elite treat Tim like a bereaved widow, despite Jason never getting to have the ‘let’s get married when we are old enough’ talk with him. Jack Drake gets to have his own surreal talk with Bruce Wayne about accepting help, and therapy, after Jason’s death. Tim picks up the Robin mantle to feel closer to Jason, and to distract himself from grief.
Jason (Now 17) is brought back and Talia does find him. In this she does have good intentions (She knows that Damian is going to need to be sent to his father eventually, and hopes that helping Jason will endear Talia to Bruce enough that she can still see her son), plus a connection to Janet Drake and the knowledge that Janet had the Joker killed for Jason. So as soon as Jason’s madness ebbs enough to travel she brings him straight to Janet Drake's door. By then enough time has passed that it is three days before Tim’s 17th birthday.
Jante takes one look at Jason and goes ‘Hmm, I was wondering what we were getting Tim for his birthday this year’.
#jaytim#jason todd is a romantic#jason todd#tim drake#Smitten jason Todd#Jason Todd Died#Jason Todd Lived#jack and janet drake#Jack and Janet love Tim#bruce wayne#Bruce Wayne is a good parent#alfred pennyworth#richard grayson#gotham
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Styles in Rome
Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry, YN and Grace have their first family holiday in Italy.
Based on this request and a big thank you to @howling-wolf97 for helping me.
warning: body insecurities
Italy was like a second home to Harry and YN. The last few years they had spent lot of time there, whether that was work related for Harry or to enjoy some time as a couple. It only felt right for their first family holiday to be to Rome.
Travelling with a 7 week old baby had definitely tested their travelling skills of needing to pack more, travel heavier and plan their schedule to the inch of their lives.
Harry had managed to organise their flights so they would land early evening, meaning they could try and stick to Grace’s routine as much as they could.
Their first full day began with a 7am wake up call from Grace, who was letting out small cries from her travel cot next to their bed. YN stirred first, adjusting the Italian sun shining through the large glass window.
Gently picking up Grace from where she lay, she carefully cuddled her into her shoulder and picking up her blanket. “Shh…it’s okay…Mummy’s here…are you hungry my girl?”.
YN walked through their apartment and opened the door to the balcony, that overlooked the sea. Sitting on one of the chairs, YN gently lifted her top and allowed Grace to latch on for her morning milk. Stroking the little one’s cheek, she couldn’t help but think about how lucky she was. “Your Daddy and me love it here…and I’m sure you will too”.
ynstyles story
Replies:
harryfan4 ITALRRY PENDING!
harryfan9 choke her with a sea view!
annetwist Missing you all already❤️
harryfan2 Enjoy!!☺️
lottietomlinson Have fun!! Miss and love you loads🩷🩷🩷
Harry appeared at the balcony doors, two mugs in his hands before placing them on the table. “Morning my girls!”. He left a peck on YN’s lips, before placing his finger in Grace’s hand as she still fed. “Are you having cuddles with Mummy? Are you taking all my cuddles?”.
“I think Daddy’s jealous”. YN pretended to whisper to Grace, adding a smirk as she watched Harry sit in the chair next to her.
“You can’t blame a man for wanting some cuddles with his wife”. YN couldn’t hide her smile as she stared at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”.
Her smile only got bigger, as she glanced down at Grace and back at her husband. “I just love it when you call me your wife”.
“You’ve been my wife for the last twelve years…but it’s just official now”. Harry did mean what he said. They may have only been married for a couple of months, but nothing has changed between the couple. They’re still happy, still madly in love but now they get to share that happiness with their daughter.
“I love you more and more everyday”. YN lifted Grace up as she noticed she had finished her morning feed.
“It will never beat my love for you two”. Harry opened his arms as YN gently placed Grace into them. Seeing Harry with Grace always sparked a burst of joy in YN’d heart. She watched as Harry looked down at Grace in his arms with pure love and him being a dad was definitely YN’s favourite look on him.
“Your dad era makes you ten times hotter!”. YN couldn’t control what she was saying. The postpartum hormones and the lack of intimacy the last few months has definitely caught with her. “Long hair era has gone to second place!”.
“You must really fancy me at the moment then…you used to pounce on me every change you got when I had long locks!”. Harry teased as he cuddled Grace into his arms, placing a delicate kiss to her head.
“They were the days!”.
---
After they had eaten some breakfast, got showered and dressed for the day. They decided to spend a couple of hours at the beach.
As they arrived at the quiet beach, Grace had fallen asleep in the carrier so they laid her down under the large umbrella out of the sun. Harry quickly removed his T-shirt, which left him in his dark green shorts and tattoos on display. YN let her eyes stare, taking in the view and admiring her gorgeous husband. She couldn’t help but let the insecurities take over and question how someone so effortlessly beautiful could want her.
Harry covered himself in sunscreen, before his eyes noticed that YN was doing the same to herself after she had put some on Grace. But what he was surprised at was that she was still wearing her cover up.
“Not that I don’t like your cover up…but I was hoping that since Grace isn’t in need of those right now that I could admire them”. Harry tried to joke about wanting to see YN in a bikini.
YN’s lips twitched knowing Harry was teasing. “Oh…uh…I’m a bit chilly”. She cursed at herself knowing how ridiculous that sounded considering how warm it was.
Harry frowned as he realised that there was more to this than he originally thought. Sitting down on the large towels covering the sand, he slid his arm around her waist, his hand landing on her hip. “Hey…what’s wrong?”.
YN thought about lying again, making something else up, but she knew Harry had already caught onto her hiding something. Without looking at him, as she felt his hand rubbing her hip gently, she spoke the truth. “It’s just…since I’ve…I…I’m embarrassed of my body since having Grace…and that’s not Grace’s fault…I absolutely love that my body grew such a beautiful little baby…but I can’t help but think you’re going to look at my new body and just…I don’t know…not love me anymore!”.
Harry listened to every words his wife said, and the words stung. He blamed himself for how YN was feeling and annoyed that he hadn’t noticed. He thought carefully about his next words, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Gently turning her head to face him. “Babe…I could never not love you…if anything I love you more now than I ever have…you’re more to me than just your body, you’re my wife…you’re my best friend…my soulmate…the mother to my baby and future babies…nobody else is you and I want you…I’ll always want you…I’m in love with you”.
YN had carefully closed her eyes as Harry spoke, and he could only assume it was to stop herself from crying, so his words only continued as he pulled her closer so he was cuddling her.
“You'll never love yourself half as much as I love you…And you'll never treat yourself right darling, but I want you to…if I let you know, I'm here for you…Maybe you'll love yourself like I love you, oh…And I've just let these little things slip out of my mouth…’Cause it's you, oh, it's you…It's you, they add up to…And I'm in love with you…And all these little things…I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth…But if it's true, it's you…It's you, they add up to…I'm in love with you…And all your little things”. Harry sung softly as YN laid in his arms, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks as he sang the meaningful lyrics to her. “But you’re perfect to me”.
---
layla_tpwk
liked by harryfan6, ynstyles and 682 others
layla_tpwk I MET HARRY AND YN STYLES!!❤️BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!! View all 103 comments tagged: harrystyles ynstyles
harryfan3 italrrry!!
sarah_70 So pleased for you darling! A dream come true💕 ⌞layla_tpwk thanks mum🫶🏼 ⌞ynstyles sarah_70 Your daughter is an absolute credit to you. She was so polite, kind and respectful today, especially towards our newborn Grace🩷Layla, a big thank you from Harry and I x ⌞harryfan7 YN!!! ⌞ynrryfan4 OMG YN LIKED AND COMMENTED!! ⌞sarah_70 ynstyles She’s beautiful inside and out. Thank you to you and your husband for giving up some time to chat with her, you’ve made her beam💜 ⌞layla_tpwk ynstyles it was so lovely to meet you both and baby grace 💕
ynrrydaily Story time please???? ⌞harryupdate desperate for this one because yn has liked and commented🙈 ⌞layla_tpwk ok..I’m still in shock but I’m on a family holiday in Italy. I was with my dad and we were walking around and then I spotted harry and yn walking towards us. At first I thought I was dreaming but then I could see yn carrying grace in a carrier. I didn’t want to disturb them but my dad knows I’m a huge fan so he spoke to them first and explained I had been a fan since 1D were on X factor. Honestly they were so kind and even recommended some places for us to go to. yn is literally the sweetest human ever and grace is soooo cute!! I am so happy tonight❤️ ⌞harryfan4 I am very jealous!! ⌞ynrryfan8 I want to meet Harry, YN and Grace😢 ⌞ynfan does grace look like harry or yn??? ⌞layla_tpwk she’s definitely a Tomlinson💕
Tag List:
@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994
#harry styles x reader#harry styles#harry styles x y/n#harrystyles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfic#harry styles series#harry styles writing#one direction#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x tomlinson!reader#harry styles x oc#harry x reader#harry x yn#harry x y/n#harry x you#harry styles fic#harry styles series masterlist#harry styles masterlist#harry styles imagines#harry styles imagine#louis tomlinson#niall horan#zayn malik#liam payne#harry 1d#one direction imagine#one direction fanfiction#tomlinson!yn
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I know Lonely reader goes on Twitter and answers random questions! Could we maybe see some? Do you think sometimes she even asks Harry for his answer if a fan is wanting his opinion on something?🩷
Hiii lovey!!! Oh 100000% she does because I mean until recently she was just Harry’s bestie so I imagine she’s always been pretty decently active social media just making sure to respect Harry and Niall’s privacy of course! But she wouldn’t have any issue going on there and answering random questions, I’ll happily give you some examples!! 💖
-find all things for the Lonely series here✨
A/N: You’re doing an evening scroll on Twitter/X and decide to answer some questions and even get your fiancé to help on a few of them✨
Fan: is Niall REALLY the man of honor? What color is he wearing for the ceremony?- Niall really is the man of honor and sorry can’t tell you what color he’s wearing but I can say it’s not black or white✨
Fan: Fave era of Harry? Be honest👀- I met him in arguably one of his best eras his frat era but my fave was the long hair. He was absurdly good looking with it.
Fan: Did you steal his clothes when you were just friends? I’d have his whole t shirt collection- I did! I used to take t shirts but then I also used to “borrow” his fancy bomber jackets and even now they’re in my closet and not his😂
Fan: Would Harry ever write a song about you?- He said yes and then asked how do we know he hasn’t already? He’s always trying to be so mysterious🙄
Fan: Are you excited for the wedding? Is it in Italy???- I am very excited and also super fucking nervous? I think that’s normal though? But no it’s not in Italy, Harry lost that battle.
Fan: Have you and Harry kissed before?- I honestly love how nosey this is, but yes we have kissed a few times.
Fan: One thing of Harry’s that you love?- His hands. I know you all know why.
Fan: What made Harry want to be bffs with you after meeting?- He says my sense of humor and we just clicked oh and our banter was top tier. So basically I’m funny and he likes to try to argue with me😂
Fan: Do you really even love Harry??- Honestly? He’s whatever.
Fan: How did you meet Niall? Your friendship with him is goals- I met him after a show a few weeks after meeting Harry when he invited me to see One Direction perform and we just instantly go along so well! I love that dude so damn much. I’ll tell him you said that!!✨
Fan: How did he propose?- Very dramatically.
Fan: Oh god does Harry read these too now that you’re engaged? I’m scared he’s gonna see my embarrassing tweets 😅- Don’t be scared babes he’s a narcissist so even though you may find them embarrassing he loves them, especially your tweets about his rings👀
Fan: I can’t believe you’re going to marry Harry Styles😭- He can’t believe it either. Keeps checking to see if I’ve changed my mind every few days.
Fan: Tell me please does Harry do his own laundry?- He does when he has the time. He’s a big boy and even knows how to sort his colors from his darks and all that kinda stuff.
Fan: What side of the bed does Harry sleep on?- The one closest to the bedroom door and he says that’s a safety thing kinda like why he walks on the side closest to the street when we walk on the sidewalk. I don’t argue I just go with it.
Fan: How many people are invited to your wedding?- Not a lot😬
Fan: Are you gonna stop working now that you’re gonna be married to Harry?- Niall is that you?👀😂
Fan: Who has more clothes?- Harry. But I do beat him when it comes to books so there’s that.
Fan: HS4 coming at midnight??- Seeing as this was asked several days ago I think it’s safe to say no, sorry babes🥺
Fan: Fave Harry song?- Golden has always been one of my faves but lately I’ve been listening to Cinema a lot I think it’s the background vocals 🫠
Fan: Did you see Niall on tour this year?- I did, I was at both MSG shows and cried and then went with Harry to the show in Manchester.
Fan: When is the wedding?- Not soon enough according to my fiancé.
Fan: Memory with Harry that makes you smile?- Oh god there’s so many to pick from but probably the first time he FaceTimed me while on the road just because he missed me.
Fan: Are you writing your own vows?- Not sure yet, Harry wants to but then you know how he gets and I’ll be standing there for half an hour crying and I just think I’d like to keep it short and sweet but who knows.
Fan: Who’s the clingy one? You or Harry??- We both already know the answer to this question babes. It’s Harry.
Fan: I just wanted to say I love you and Harry💕- Awe and I just want you to know Harry and I love you too!!!
Fan: You two should have a show- I told Harry he should be on the Real Housewives but he told me no.
#lonely extras#Harry styles series#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x you#harry styles imagine#harry styles series#boyfriend!harry#Harry styles x fiancé!reader#famous!harry#my little lanky baby#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles friends to lovers
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hello yuri timber enjoyers, here is regency era timber inspired by @littlegreekhero and my pride and prejudice obsession
possible au yappings under the cut
ok so we have bernadette dowd and timothy drake
bern is from an upper middle class family (father is a rather succesful merchant) and lives a rather simple life
tim is from an aristocrat family who after the passing of his mother moved to the town bern lives in so his father can start a new with his new wife without high societies eyes on him and their family
they meet and almost instantly become friends, tho its mostly due to bern’s pestering. they end up relating to each other (being different from everybody (read being gay)) and swap stories abt their lives
they slowly fall in love, though neither of them really realize until tim is to be betrothed to either male steph or kon (depends on if everybody gets gender bent or not lol)
anyways they both kinda have an “oh shit I love her but she’s gonna be outta reach if I don’t do something right now” moment and bern has the very sensible response of deciding to start cross dressing so she can become tim’s secret lover to prevent her getting married
the thing is neither of them is honest abt why they’re going on along w the honestly kinda stupid plan. bern says she doesn’t wanna see tim unhappily married and tim says she doesn’t wanna be married bc she’s not ready
oh yeah and the plan literally only works bc bern is basically a recluse since her parents are almost always away on business and she didn’t care for anybody in the town until tim came along so a haircut and binding did wonders for making her unrecognizable
#anyways i love regency era#I think its so interesting#and the fashion ahsgahsgsha#I wanna do sum actual studies of clothes b4 I do more for this au#timber#timbern#tim drake#bernard dowd#nicomoon69#regency au#timber yuri verse
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palette ࿏ wm
summary: in which your mother commissions a renowned painter to paint your portrait.
words: 6.0K
warnings: top!wanda, fem!reader, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), lots of tense gay ogling, so much sexual tension, minor use of paint in sex, very victorian era girlie themed, mentions of men (scary!)
this post is for 18+ only. minors dni.
masterlist.
Your mother was being incredulous about the situation. Time and time again, you tried to convince her that you were not the marrying type, that she need not go to her extreme ends to find you a husband. Whether it was showing you off like show cattle at parties, offering to pay men to marry you with money or titles, or throwing you at the nearest man around, which one time ended up being the innocent post boy, she was relentless in marrying you off.
Any time a man did take an interest in you, which was not unreasonable due to your fair beauty and youth, you hated and despised him and dwindled down his integrity until he ran away like a dog clutching the remnants of his masculinity between his legs. Relief was momentary, for once you ran one off, she only brought around another.
Her new tactic that she invented in that stubborn little head of hers was to commission a renowned painter to paint your portrait to be hung in the halls of your wealthy home. With all the parties and dinners she hosted so desperately often to cling to her respected name in society, she thought that surely a young man would see the portrait of her jeweled and beautiful daughter and demand to own her. Of course, your mother demanded the best, so she hired the infamous Maximoff artist to paint your portrait.
“He will be here any minute,” she whispered behind you as she violently tightened the strings of your corset until you felt your stomach was tucked inside your ribcage.
Taking a shallow breath, the deepest one you could breathe, you looked down at the emerald green dress. It was a beautiful dress, sure. Gold lace crawled over the green corset at your waist, and the green parted at a low point in your bosom, opening wide to reveal your entire chest, metal wires ensuring that your breasts were pushed up and on full display. One thing about your mother was that she hid no tricks. You were her trick, and you were sure she would have you painted naked like a whore if it meant having a son-in-law and grandchildren.
“Mother,” you gasped when she tightened the corset even further, struggling to breathe. “Do you not expect a common man to want a wife who breathes?”
“Hush,” she snapped as she tied off the strings at your back. The dress’s intricate under-weavings made sure that your hips looked wider than your own intellect. Most of the time, you liked to prance around in delicate underdresses in which you could breathe and move freely. This dress, with its constricting corset and heavy hips and layers upon layers of white underskirts, made you feel like you were standing with your head in a noose.
“If he’s such an excellent painter, can’t he just use his own imagination about what I’m wearing? That’s what most men do in their heads, anyway.”
“Mr. Maximoff is the most respected artist in the country,” she breathed, circling you to look you once over. Her hands went to the breast of the corset, trying to lower it down even more.
“Mother!” you shrieked, widening your eyes at her and tugging the fabric back up. “Why are you trying to make me look like a whore in front of who you say is the most respected artist in the country?!”
“He’s Sokovian,” she argued. “They’re exotic.”
You rolled your eyes at her bitter distaste for foreigners, and if you could breathe, you would have let the venomous words roll off your tongue.
“Besides, even if he doesn’t paint you as a doable wife, perhaps he would graciously take you himself.” Her eyes flickered up to your hair which was swooped high up on your head, a few curls of your hair hanging over your cheeks. The earrings on your ears were heavy, and the jewels on your neck were even heavier. You felt like your outer bearings weighed a thousand pounds and were crushing your frail body with every passing second. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to die in that moment, you certainly did, but you would be damned if it was in such a ridiculous outfit.
A housemaid rushed into the room suddenly and declared, “The painter has arrived.”
Your mother nearly slapped you across the face with how fast her hands went to fixing your hair. “Send him in!”
There was a hesitant look on the maid’s face, but she left with her hands fumbling together. Your mother turned your shoulders towards the door, harshly slapping your lower back to make your back straighten. You sighed, feeling anxious at how little you could breathe. You grabbed at your neck as if that would help you breathe, but your mother slapped your hand away. “Don’t fidget.”
She stood next to you, her hands posed at her front, a wide smile on her face. You were pretty sure that she wanted her men to desire herself as much as they desired you, and sometimes you wondered if you might marry a man just so he could fuck your mother and get her out of your own ass.
“Smile,” she whispered, but that was one thing she would have to slap across your face before you ever would.
The door to the library opened slowly, and you could feel your mother’s excited breaths beside you. A booted foot stepped into the room first, your eyes following the body that stepped through. A leg clothed in wide grey trousers, a frilly cream blouse tucked into the pants. You were offput by a mane of long, wavy brunette hair, though your first instinct was maybe Sokovian men donned long hair as a cultural preference. But when you saw the face that glowed into the room, those viridescent eyes, sharp cheekbones with a feminine curve, supple pink lips, your own lips fell open as you realized that Mr. Maximoff was, in fact, a woman.
You thought your mother was going to spontaneously combust in a theatrical display of steaming, rageful sparks. You looked over at her—her eyes were glancing down the woman over and over again, trying to figure out how in the world this person could possibly be a woman, this person who she had built up to the be the key to breeding her own daughter.
You couldn’t help but gleam at the impossibly devastated look on her face. This painter was a woman standing here in pants, holding an easel with a canvas under one strong arm and a bag full of paints in the other.
“Mr. Maximoff?” your mother gasped stupidly.
By the look on the woman’s face, you could tell this wasn’t the first time. “Ms. Maximoff. Wanda.” She stepped forward, setting her supplies down on the floor. “It is a pleasure to meet you and have the honor of being commissioned by your name.” Her Sokovian accent was thick and velvety. She came closer, holding out a hand to your mother. She eyed it like it was a snake, but took it, and Wanda shook her hand like a man.
Her snakelike eyes flickered to you. “I presume this is your daughter—my subject?”
“Uh…” Your mother began, her eyes focused on the shape of Wanda’s breasts under her shirt as if in disbelief. “Yes, this is my daughter, y/n.”
Your eyes were trained on Wanda’s. They were looking at you pointedly, a little wide, soaking up every inch of your presence as if you were the only source of light in the room. Her lips curved into a coy smirk. “Pleasure,” she gently spoke, reaching for your hand. You gave it to her, expecting her to shake it, but she gently turned your palm over, her thumb tracing the soft skin on the back of your hand, before she lowered down and pressed her lips there.
It became even harder to breathe as the woman rose back up, the feeling of her lips still tingling on the skin of your hand. “You are as beautiful as your mother spoke of you.”
For once, you actually smiled without your mother forcing you to. Wanda stepped away, looking between you and your mother expectantly. “Well, shall I get to work? I do charge by the hour.”
Your mother was in some sort of trance. “Oh, um… Sure—well, you see Mr.—Ms. Maximoff—”
“Wanda.”
“… Wanda. I was, admittedly, under the impression that the painter I commissioned to paint my daughter’s portrait would be a man. Are you sure that you do not have a father or brother by the same name, or even a husband, who can come instead? You see, this portrait is going to be very important to me. I intend to show my daughter’s beauty and wealth so that I can find her a proper husband, and given that is such an important cause, I need a painter with the highest skill and artistry to do it properly.”
Wanda only blinked. “There is no other Maximoff but myself. I understand your concern about this portrait, but I ensure you that my skill and artistry will serve the best purpose for your daughter, though her beauty so obvious that even a street painter could convey it.” Her eyes flickered to you again, drawing up another smile on your face. It was funny how she was painting your face without even holding a brush.
Your mother’s eyes danced around uncomfortably. “Well…” She paused, looking over Wanda once again. “Alright.”
“Shall we do it here?” Wanda asked, pointing towards a sofa that sat in the corner of the library against a beautifully wallpapered wall.
“Alright,” your mother said reluctantly. Wanda instantly went to work, setting up her easel and canvas in front of the sofa. She then turned to you, holding out her hand with that sort of smirk on her face. “Come.”
Hesitating, you stepped forward, sliding your hand into her soft, gentle one. She led you over to the sofa, gesturing you to sit, holding your hand until you were fully seated. You squirmed a little as she looked down at you, her eyes appearing darker now that she was turned away from your mother who stood watching with nervous eyes and fidgeting hands. Wanda was staring down at you with an unreadable expression, and when your mother cleared her throat in the silence, it seemed she almost forgot she was there.
Wanda turned to look at your mother, clasping her hands behind her back and taking a few steps towards her.
“My lady, I do find my creative focus more intent when in the presence of only my muse and myself,” Wanda spoke confidently. Your mother was obviously taken aback by this, as if she had expected to watch the entire process, her hand of control over every little thing. She liked to think she was God, or at least God of your world and everything that had to do with you.
“Oh—are you sure?”
Wanda smiled graciously and nodded.
Your mother looked between Wanda and you reluctantly before finally nodding and stepping away. “Well, if you need me, you can ring the bell for the maid.” She paused again, waiting to be told to stay, but Wanda only stared at her, so finally she left, closing the door gently behind her.
You could breathe a little easier now that your mother wasn’t in the room. Wanda sighed and turned on her heel to face you. Your back straightened instinctively under her prolonged stare, your eyebrows creasing to try and figure out why she was staring at you with her head tilted as if you were already a painting hung in a gallery.
“Confusion doesn’t look good on you, darling, and it surprises me so that anything could not look good on you,” she smoothly murmured, taking slow steps parallel from you. She disappeared behind the easel before reappearing on the other side of it, her eyes still trained on you.
You shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. “You’re staring at me.”
She blinked, a smile widening on her face. “I’m supposed to paint you. How can I do that without ever looking at you?”
Your face warmed a little, eyes darting down to the floor. She made a noise with her tongue before she went over to the large window of the grand library, pulling on a chain to close the thick, heavy curtains until the room was blanketed in darkness. You could hardly see anything now—you heard the fumbling of things and the striking of a match before a golden light emanated from the table nearby. Wanda had lit a candle, bringing the match near her lips and blowing on it to put it out.
“What are you doing?”
She walked to the other side of the sofa where another smaller table was and lit a candle there too, so that now you were blanketed in a soft, orange huge.
“This painting is to attract men to you for the purpose of marriage, correct?” she asked as she blew the second match out. “What’s more attractive than dim lighting under the intimate glow of candles?” Her eyes, darker now, flickered to you as she walked back to her easel, dragging a nearby stool to the easel and lighting one last candle there so that she could see her work.
“How sensual,” you remarked, to which a hidden smile curled on her lips, shadowed by her hair.
Wanda reached into her bag and brought out a palette, a tin can of brushes, a jug of water, and several bottles of paint, placing them all on the stool beside the easel. You expected her to just be quiet and start painting, but she walked towards you. Your chin rose to keep your eyes on hers as she neared you, looking down at you analytically.
“Sit back a little,” she said softly, “So your back is against the cushion.” You did as she said, scooting back until you could sit up straight with the support of the cushion. “Good. Now, your hands…” She looked at where you had placed them, lying mindlessly on either side of your lap. “What are we going to about those?” She smirked again.
“What do you mean?”
“Hands are as integral part of a portrait as is the face,” she tilted her head and leaned back, imagining your visage as a whole. “Cross them over your lap.”
You plopped them over each other on your knees, expecting that to be good enough, but when you glanced back at her, she was trying not to laugh. “What?” you asked defensively.
“Nothing,” she said, her Sokovian accent edged with amusement. “Here.” She knelt down in front of you, gently taking your wrists into her hands. You held your breath as she positioned them very particularly over your lap, trying to ignore the way her fingertips grazed the fabric of your skirt and left wrinkles in the fabric there, indentions of her touch. Her hands touching yours so delicately was sending jolts of electricity up your spine. You blasphemed yourself for being so shy of a simple touch, from a girl, nonetheless.
Once she had your hands positioned the way she wanted, she stood back up and assessed your top half. You caught the way her eyes fed upon your chest for a brief, startling moment before she looked up to your face. “Sit up a little straighter.” She put her hands on your shoulders, gently guiding you to sit up, her fingertips sliding to your upper back. You grew bothered at how handsy she was being. Her hands moved to your face, adjusting the curls of hair that were left out of your updo. Her face was close to yours now, her cool breath fanning across your mouth and leaving you no room to breathe, a heat forming under the skin of your face.
You recoiled suddenly, and she looked at you with unnerved eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
Her sudden change of confidence at the thought of somehow paining you by moving your hair eased your discomfort a little. “You’re reminding me of my mother. Always picking at me, fixing me.”
Her lips pursed together. “Your mother fixes you to her liking. I’m fixing you to yours.”
You eyed her suspiciously. “I haven’t said a word to you about any of my likings.” You noticed how quiet you were speaking, how quiet the room was, how close you were together in the corner of the large room.
“You don’t have to. I can tell,” she whispered with a crawling smile, adjusting your hair one last time before finally moving away from you. “Now, just sit.”
“Seems simple enough,” you breathed once she was finally behind her easel, trying your best to stay still.
She picked up her palette and started mixing paints and water, tussling through some brushes before finding one she wanted, and you finally heard the scraping of her brush on the canvas. You would have much rather been behind the easel with her, watching with as much curiosity and intrigue as you had then as she worked, than be sitting still like a lifeless doll as her eyes stared at you.
After several minutes of having her look between you and the easel, you started to get uncomfortable. The corset was still restricting your breath, and it felt impossible to keep your hands completely still. The dress was making your back hurt, and the painful silence and the feeling of Wanda’s eyes constantly on yours was enough to make you go mad. You hadn’t even realized that you were starting to squirm, accidentally moving your hands and your position.
You heard a sigh which led you to look back up at Wanda. She set the palette down, along with her brush, and stepped out from behind the easel, pacing back and forth with her eyes set upon you in a sort of disappointed and confused stare.
“What?” you blurted, feeling offended that somehow she thought you couldn’t even just sit to her liking. “What am I doing wrong?”
“You’re fidgeting,” she said with more seriousness, her artistic focus shining through.
You looked down and realized that somehow over the course of a few minutes you had completely lost the original position she had you in. You sighed, deflating as sharp pains ran up your torso. “I’ve never been painted before.”
“Well, it’s an honor to take your portrait virginity,” she countered with a little smirk, ceasing her pacing to stand staring at you with a tilted head.
A searing hot blush fled to your cheeks. “You speak like a man.”
“You’re sitting like one.”
You realized you were lounging disgracefully on the sofa with your back hunched and legs open. Snapping your legs shut, you groaned and laid back on the sofa dramatically. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.”
“You don’t want to be painted?”
“No! And I don’t want to be married off to some bastard and bred like swine until I die. I cannot breathe without her trying to stuff me into a man’s side like an armpiece. I cannot breathe with her constantly in my ear speaking to me how I should talk better, walk better, sit better, stand better, look better. I cannot breathe—I just cannot breathe!” You leaned forward suddenly, feeling faint and gasping for air, clawing helplessly at the front of your corset whose fabric was stuck to your skin.
Wanda neared you calmly, holding out a hand in front of your face. Still gasping, you looked up at her, eyes falling to her hand. Feeling helpless, you slid your hand into yours and stood to face her. You realized then suddenly just how beautiful she was, with her full mouth and sharp eyes that were always piercing into you. Without speaking, her hands slid over your shoulders and smoothly turned you around. You froze, confused about what she was doing until you felt her fingers at your back and the sound of strings being undone.
“What are you doing?!” you exclaimed, knowing how long it took your mother to zip you up in that dreadful thing and how, if she knew you had undone it, she would tie it up even tighter.
“I cannot paint you like this,” her husky voice spoke close behind you. “You look dead in this dress.”
“God,” you breathed as she tugged at the strings, causing your body to move with her force. “That’s an interesting way to call someone ugly.”
“You are not alive like this,” she explained, “I can tell that this is not you. This is only a shell, a makeup of your mother. I am not here to paint your mother—I am here to paint you. My muse has to be completely herself, with no facades or lies. I need to see you as you are, truly and honestly. And also, you do look two heartbeats away from death by asphyxiation in this damned thing.” With a forceful tug, she ripped the back of the corset open so forcefully that your body was yanked backwards towards her, but she caught you, hands firmly on your waist.
You gasped in a full breath of air, and although it was a dusty library, it was the freshest breath of air you had ever taken. You were leaning back against her chest now, strands of her brown hair over your chest. Her hands holding your waist slid upwards a little, your body shivering at the feeling.
Her mouth was close to your ear as she whispered, “I’m going to undress you as gently as I can…” As her breath fanned against your ear, alighting all kinds of nerves in your spine that you’d never felt before, her hands slid around the front of your abdomen. “But forgive me if my creative expressions make me a little…forceful.”
She punctuated her words with an aggressive tug on your corset, which made you gasp sharply. She peeled it off your upper body, grabbing at the hips of the dress and tugging it down, also, bending and pulling all the green off your body until it was pooled at your ankles in a pathetic lump of fabric. You turned your head, looking down at Wanda who was crouched at your calves and staring up at you with parted lips and seductive eyes.
Wanda’s hand snaked around your smooth ankle first, cupping your shin as she started to rise, moving back around to behind your knees, lifting up your layers of underskirts as she went. She rose up behind you now, dragging her hand all the way up your leg under your skirt until it was on your hip, centimeters away from your bum.
Your heart was beating fast in your body that was growing warmer even without the top layer of clothing now. All that was left was the white slip that covered your body and the second underskirt.
“I need to see the real you, detka,” she spoke, Sokovian accent think and sensual in your ear.
You could smell her strong perfume of fig, her soft hair tickling your shoulders. You couldn’t believe that this woman had just ripped your dress from you and had you standing in barely any clothing that you wouldn’t even let your mother see you in.
“How can I convey you on canvas if I don’t know you?” She whispered, and the slightest graze of her lips against your ear sent a jolt down your body.
Her fingertips went to your shoulders, tickling your skin as she guided the thin strap of your slip down your shoulders, bringing you to shiver.
“Wanda,” you breathed, unsure of what you wanted to say. Sliding her hands over your skin, keeping her touch on you, she circled you, coming in front of you to look into your eyes.
“Trust me, detka,” she whispered, “I’m a master of the arts. I know what I am doing.”
That she did, with a smirk as she slowly pulled your slip down. You tried to stand confidently under her gaze and touch, but when you felt the silky fabric catch over your breasts and then fall below to reveal them, you gasped desperately for air. Her eyes flickered down, feasting upon the sight of you with utter desire and sensuality. Her mouth was open, lip nearly trembling as she pulled the slip down over your intimate stomach, and then pushed it along with the second skirt off your hips so that you were standing bare and entirely naked in front of her.
“Beautiful,” she breathed with ragged voice. “So… fucking beautiful.”
The vulgar word pierced your spine and made your body heat even more. Your skin was flush and pink under the close, golden hue of the flickering candles, that same unsteady light revealing Wanda’s bulging pupils and darkened irises. She was devouring you with her eyes, and through the lust you saw the creative plates molding perfectly together in her mind.
“Lay down,” she said with faltering voice, clearing her throat as she guided you to the sofa.
No one had ever seen you naked before, and you kept that thought in mind as you carefully climbed onto the sofa, her hand on your lower back leading the way. “On your back,” she demanded, but suddenly she caught you before you laid down, reaching into your hair and undoing it with one pull of a pin. Your hair flooded down your shoulders messily, and you gasped, knowing just how undone you looked. Was she going to paint you like this? In the nude? You knew that was far from what your mother wanted in the portrait, but your mother was even farther away from your thoughts as the Sokovian artist’s hands guided you to lay on the sofa.
“Move on your side slightly,” she instructed, voice taught with many different emotions you couldn’t completely discern. You were halfway on your back and halfway on your side, some of your hair over your chest and some of it cascading down the arm of the sofa above your head.
Finally, she stepped away from you, and you thought you would feel cold without her touch, but her eyes were enough to keep the fire broiling in your stomach alive.
You were sprawled out on the couch like a whore. One leg reaching over the other end of the sofa, the other one halfway off the edge of the cushion. One arm laying on the cushion lifeless, the other one reaching across the top of the sofa. You were wearing nothing but the thick jewels on your upper chest and the earrings hidden behind your hair except for a few twinkles where the light shone through the strands. The golden light of the candles sparkled on the erected rosy peaks of your breasts, flickered off the skin of your stomach.
“Perfect,” Wanda said, grabbing a towel that she had laid on the stool and casting it over her shoulder, her ravenous eyes not leaving yours as she picked up the palette and brush, beginning to scratch across the canvas madly, hardly tearing her eyes from yours.
Your chest rose up and down with the tension in your lungs. Something within you was throbbing at being laid out like this, having this sensual woman tear you apart with her eyes as she painted your likeness on the canvas.
The tension did not die with the silent minutes. It grew and built with every stroke of Wanda’s brush, with her every darting, overfilling look, with your every weak breath and throb of the multiple heartbeats throughout your body. It grew to a head until you felt like you were going to burn right through the cushions of the sofa like a soaring comet.
Every time her hand left the canvas to roll her brush into the pools of paint on the palette, her rings sparkled under the candlelight. There was a gleam on her skin, a craze in her eyes, a moistness to her lips that she repeatedly licked and bit. She was driving you mad without even touching you, and you could tell that you were doing the same to her with the way she painted the canvas so hard that it trembled on the easel.
Finally, without you having to even say anything, she dropped the palette and brush on the stool and dragged the towel away from her shoulder, eyes trained on your body. She had painted so wildly that there were smudges of color on the white sleeves of her blouse and covering her hands. She came to you so quickly that you didn’t even know she was there until she was knelt beside the sofa, placing a hand on your lower stomach.
Her hand sent a streak of color up your skin as she slowly slid it up your abdomen. Red, yellow, green, blue, all streaked together from her hands as she touched the smooth expanse of your skin.
“When I first came in,” she began in a tremulous whisper, “I knew it would be impossible to hold my focus while I painted your portrait.” Her hand swiftly curved around your breast and cupped it, relishing in the supple feeling of your flesh. Your eyes fluttered closed, legs mindlessly moving as she touched you shamelessly, and you let her. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I don’t even have to paint you to make you a walking piece of art.”
You didn’t know what to say as her compliments landed on your skin like warm raindrops and evaporated into your pores, seeping into you and imbuing you with warmth. She bit her lip as she looked down to your breasts which she fondled, rolling her thumb over your hardened nipples. Your skin there was covered in her paint now, colors mixing and melting on the warmth of your skin.
“Is this your creative expressions speaking?” you whispered to her, and she smirked and tilted her head.
“No, it’s just me.” Her eyes flickered to your lips, and without hesitance she leaned forward and kissed you hungrily. You moaned, and with your lips parted she dove her tongue into your mouth. Her other hand found your delicate neck and squeezed it, the cold paint smearing on your skin as her tongue explored your mouth with utter force and desperation, like she needed to know every single corner and texture of your mouth and tongue.
She clambered on top of you, pinning you down on the sofa beneath. Her hands went mad across your body, squeezing and rubbing you everywhere she could, memorizing every single curve and sweet spot that made you arch up against her. Her kisses trailed down your skin, sucking and biting harshly until she made bright red and purple spots that blended in with the paint she had already left there. She made a painted mess of you right there on those cushions, mercilessly sucking on your nipples and pinching them until you were squirming beneath you with desperate need, grabbing at her soft hair and shoulders.
“Wanda,” you moaned as she lowered down your body, leaving wet kisses down your painted stomach until she was at your hips. She growled, glancing up at your bare, marked body before her, lowering herself down between your legs.
“You’re the sort of art that needs to be worshipped,” she grunted as she ran her hand over your thigh, swiveling around it to yank it up over her shoulder. Crouched down, she parted your legs open, moaning at the sight between your legs. She had dwindled you down into a wet mess, and the feeling of her warm breaths fanning against you there did no good for how much you wanted her to touch you.
Most of the paint that was on her hands had been transferred to your body, so she brought her fingers to your slippery folds, groaning at how soft and wet you were. “No one has touched you before?”
“No one,” you whispered, looking down at the lewd sight of this woman between your legs, even her slight touch on your folds making you jolt.
“Let me be the first.”
“Please.”
She wasted no time in lowering her head down and placing her mouth over your slit, running her tongue up your folds and to your clit, circling it with exact pressure. The moan that escaped your mouth was foul, and you bucked your hips towards her face as she started to lap at your clit, pausing every now and then to purse her lips and suckle at it.
“Oh, Wanda!” you exclaimed, forgetting that your mother could be right outside.
Reaching her hand up your belly, she clasped it over your mouth to silence your moans. You held her wrist, nails sinking into her skin as you trembled beneath her.
“You must be quiet, detka. What happens between an artist and her muse, stays there,” she whispered thickly, her mouth glistening with your own juices. She brought her fingers to your clit, pushing into it before lowering them down to your slick entrance. She watched your every expression and movement of your body as she slid two of her fingers inside you slowly, stretching your virgin hole around their length and width.
Your muffled moans were under her hand as she pumped her fingers deep inside you, curling them to graze the inner sweet spots inside you. Your hips jerked as she lowered her mouth again to suckle at your clit while her fingers thrusted into you.
“You’re just as perfect inside as you are on the outside,” she moaned into your clit as she spread her fingers inside you, moving them more to just feel you than to pleasure you, but it certainly pleasured you all the same.
“Fuck, Wanda,” you cursed under her hand, feeling a coil spring tight in your lower belly. She trailed her kisses over that part of your belly, as if she could feel the tension there.
“You’re being such a good muse, such a good girl for me,” she whispered, rubbing your clit with her thumb as she squeezed a third finger inside you. “I’m inclined to take you away with me and make you the muse for all my work. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Living with me, a slave to my touch and my kiss, a wet little hole for me to fuck when I’m creatively and sexually frustrated. Wouldn’t you?”
Her thrusts were hard now, her voice snaky and thick. You whined and moaned pathetically under her hands, bucking your hips wildly off the sofa. You nodded to her question, burning at the way she laughed. “My little whore, letting me fuck her right here on the sofa, all naked and covered in paint.”
Wanda’s words twisted in your ears and wound you up even tighter, your inner walls squeezing around her fingers that pushed through them. She bit the skin of your belly hard, and with a few more pumps of her fingers, she wound you so tight that you snapped, the coil in your stomach breaking and unleashing screams and shivers of climactic pleasure and euphoria that blinded you. She talked you through it, praising you for being such a good muse, kissing your stomach and rocking her fingers more gently inside you.
You finally came down from your orgasmic high, knees trembling around her shoulders as she crawled up you, giving you a multitude of calming kisses all over your face. You sighed and looked at her with a shy smile, still struggling to catch your breath.
Grinning, she stepped back and looked at you. Your face was bright red with pleasure, a gleam shining off your skin, your body looking even more relaxed with the post-fuck glow that she had been craving to carve out of you from the very beginning. Grabbing her palette and brush, she eyed you from behind the easel, smirking under the candlelight that remarked her viridescent eyes.
“Stay just like that.”
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch#marvel#lgbt#lesbian#wanda maximoff x f!reader#wanda maximoff x y/n
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I got some more Victorian era au stuff.
MK is a person here, he’s a kid Wukong used to work with when he was poor (because remember child labor was a thing in the Victorian era unfortunately) and he likes to hang out with MK sometimes, bring him some tea and hot coco. Wukong tries his best to help out MK financially and it’s enough to where he doesn’t have to work. Macaque also tries to teach Wukong common upper class Victorian social rules, like hat language, and of course it’s counterpart, fan language.
This next bit is a little bit in the future, Wukong and Macaque kind of get married. They can’t technically get legally married due to yknow, anti mlm laws ( :[ ), but they do just act like they’re married and wear wedding bands anyways. And this is them as old men. Wukong is the only one of the two that actually has fun wearing clothes, he has Lego Batman Style suit dress up parties on a daily basis.
#art#monkie kid#lego monkie kid#monkie kid fanart#monkie kid sun wukong#monkie kid macaque#monkie kid mk#lmk fanart#lmk wukong#lmk au#lmk mk#lmk sun wukong#macaque lmk#lmk macaque#mk lmk#lmk monkey king#lmk art#lmk Victorian au#lmk shadowpeach#shadowpeach
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instagram j.b.
summary: follow along with joe and his fiancée evie as they go through his football career.
* face claim is yasmin quintana*
series masterlist.
evie
liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 873,190 others
evie: did some cowgirl shit
view all 2,739 comments…
millyg: yee frickin haw
> evie: bitches 🤠
user: NO WAY IS IT HAPPENING????
user: i was hoping this thing would get called off
joeyb_9: guess i better saddle up.
> evie: i’m coming home to you cowboy. 😉
user: no wait this is so cute
user: not ev in her cowgirl era
> evie: i fear it may be permanent
user: i cannot comprehend that you guys are so in love your getting married….
> user: wym you can’t comprehend it?? they’ve been together for like 7 years and are clearly very happy?
joeyb_9
liked by bengals, bose, and 912,054 others
joeyb_9: locked in #TeamBose
view all 5,108 comments…
user: this hairstyle is the best
user: ev is so lucky
> evie: like it truly doesn’t get better than this.
user: this is giving major top gun vibes
evie: i’m locked in on you. 🤪💗
> joeyb_9: 🌽
user: yalllll this man!
used: if you need consoling after this tough season hit my line
> evie: aw. i might take you up on that offer
> user: if there’s one things ev is going to do it’s make sure errrrrbody know joe is HER man
> user: no like its giving *insecure*
evie
liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 910,002 others
evie: my mood for the foreseeable future..
view all 3,107 comments…
user: angel girl
user: she’s a stunnnnna
lahjay10_: if joe ain’t bring some of those cookies tomorrow we may have a problem
> evie: only the best for you jay
user: a ray of sunshine
joeyb_9: photo by me, socks from my closet, cookies homemade, your smile out of this world.
> evie: the man that you are…
user: i don’t know if im rooting for you or not
user: this doesn’t seem like lifestyles of the rich and famous
> evie: you’re looking in the wrong place for that content
joeyb_9
liked by bengals, evie, and 816,901 others
joeyb_9: my hands don’t look small here
view all 6,738 comments…
user: delete this my girl has ig
bengals: caption 🤌
user: you remember what them haters had to say
evie: let’s put them to good use. 😉
> user: EV! it’s too early to be spicy in the comments!
> user: nooo she’s getting some of that BDJ 🤣
user: i wasn’t prepared for this today
user: GOODNESS GRACIOUS
evie
liked by joeyb_9, bengals, and 520,091 others
evie: why is it always so cold in seattle?
view all 6,194 comments…
user: you’re giving pick me vibes
> evie: next time you’re looking for something to comment on, please, don’t pick me. (:
user: seattle is nice when it isn’t raining
user: period !!!
millyg: a moment for YOU 💗
> evie: i luv u.
user: these pics make seattle look bad
joeyb_9: the fit goes HARD
> evie: you can borrow it anytime 🤪
> joeyb_9: game day fit?
> evie: would def be top 5 of the season.
user: why are joe and ev always so goofy in the comments, and yall think they aren’t made for each other????
> user: no bc SAME! i don’t get why people think they aren’t a good fit. they’re obsessed with each other.
joeyb_9
liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 730,726 others
joeyb_9: Dark Knight
view all 5,720 comments…
user: that’s my QB
joemainmixon: 🐐
user: you ain’t him
user: WAKE UP JOE POSTED
lahjay10_: (TOP 2) DAM SURE AINT 2! 🐐
> evie: TELL EM JAY
user: smash
evie: i think i need a hero… 🥵
> joeyb_9: i’ll be your knight in black shoulder pads.
evie
liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 820,092 others
evie: big week 😳
view all 5,118 comments…
user: my favorite wag
user: if y’all actually are getting married im sick.
user: are you going to share what’s happening?
user: you look STUNNING
user: wym??
user: not prepared for what’s about to go down. i have a feeling.
joeyb_9: 👩🏽❤️💋👨🏼
> user: oh shit
user: not joe about to ruin his life if speculation is true
> user: wow everyone is supportive until you realize he really isn’t ever going to leave her for you. this is crazy behavior!
evie
liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 1,737,026 others
evie: i think i like this little life.. 🤍
view all 15,829 comments…
millyg: and that’s MRS. Evangeline Burrow!
> user: not me just now finding out ev’s full name
> user: Evangeline??? Excuse me, that’s beautiful.
user: she doesn’t deserve it.
lahjay10_: we was TURNT TF UP!
user: i am sick with jealousy
bengals: The King and his Queen, congratulations!
user: only ring he will ever get but congrats
> user: marrying the love of your life is a bigger dub than the sb ever will be.
user: congrats!
sam_hubbard_: Finally!!
user: i knew it was coming and somehow i convinced myself he was smarter than this..
joeyb_9
liked by bengals, millyg, and 1,290,001 others
joeyb_9: Mr. & Mrs.
view all 8,628 comments…
lahjay10_: congratulations brudda!
user: most overrated player in the nfl
> user: bro can’t you let him enjoy his wedding?
user: congrats, now go get that other ring!
user: i give it a few months before they are done with each other.
> user: considering they’ve been together for almost a decade, i don’t see that happening
user: we all wish we were ev rn!
bengals: that’s our QB, you lucky boy!
user: another thing to distract him from winning the super bowl
user: not fair
millyg: i’m not crying, you are. jk i am crying. i’ve been crying all day.
user: he’s too famous for this, he will get sick of her.
evies ig stories:
#nfl#joe burrow#nfl imagine#bengals#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow insta au#joe burrow instagram
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a long rambling/idea/rant of how i want bbc merlin plot to go
Season 1
General: stays the same (light-hearted season) but merlin starts to question gaius and kilgharrah, empathizes with morgana. Elyan is introduced somewhere between episodes. Gwen father didn’t die. Mordred ISN’T introduced yet. Morgana is gaslighted by merlin + gaius (not forever i swear guys)
Finale: merlin vs nimueh (epic battle this time), merlin is almost close to loosing but gaius helps him, however nimueh survives
Season 2
General: introduction of mordred on the second ep (merlin hates him), ep 1 is abt balinor (mentor figure for merlin + should meet with hunnith), arthur finds out abt ygraine (and yes merlin lied abt it) + starts questioning uther, we got more arthur’s pov when merlin is at the ‘tavern’ (episodes where merlin is not there and focuses on arthur instead), morgana finds out abt her magic. Freya + gwen romance plotline happened. Percival + Gwaine introduction, merthur kiss but they never acknowledge it (yep they’re in denial)
Finale: kilgharrah lost hope of merlin so he turns to nimueh (in a hidden scene nimueh told arthur the truth abt his birth), nimueh + uther battle (but nimueh lost NOO), balinor DIES, merlin stops kilgharrah, glimpse of morgause (at the ep end). Morgana made a decision to kill uther
Season 3
General: aithusa is born (morgana + kilgharrah + merlin really likes her), morgana villain arc (she finds out that merlin is gatekeeping magic from her + merlin trying to kill mordred lmao), either morgwen romance or gwencelot (i can’t choose), gwen’s father died, this season = gwen’s arc
Finale: magic reveal, uther’s death, morgouse + morgana attacked the castle, morgana and morgouse fighting + breaking of to their own path (morgana realizes morgause is kind of twisted evil)
Season 4
General: arthur banning merlin from camelot (merlin runaway arc), arthur + gwen + the knights running the kingdom, morgana redemption arc, morgouse + aggravaine becomes main villain, political shit in camelot (like other kingdom who also despises sorcery/power manipulation, an in-depth look of other kingdoms), GAIUS DIES, hunnith + aithusa + kilgharrah scenes, mordred + merlin + morgana bonding, ygraine scenes, arthur trying to forget merlin but CANT, oh and aggravaine is also a villain here but he actually has personality and pure evil, arthur getting excalibur, arthur is really struggling to find himself here (to be like his father or follows his heart). Btw merlin is there and it shows every time magic related enemies attacks camelot/everytime arthur is about to die really but he’s literally in the shadows now and arthur pretends not to notice
Finale: morgause + aggravaine attacking the kingdom, arthur accepts + forgiving merlin + morgana back and assign them as court sorceress + court physician, hunnith scenes, arthur tolerating magic, adopting mordred (apology for killing his father lol), probably adopting aithusa
Season 5
General: arthur lifts the ban against magic, marrying merlin, cendred is a villain here (however he is introduced in s4), merlin GETTING A STAFF (also introduced in previous seasons but he’s worthy of it here, arthur made it btw and it’s a power up for melrin)
Finale: morgause + cendred finale attack, a few deaths (they won thoe cuz this is the good ending)
End:
Camelot brings a new era (symbolizing change)
Arthur: King
Merlin: consort/court dragonlord with titles like “king arthur’s shadow”
Gwen: Court Advisor/head of the house
Morgana: Court Sorceress
Aithusa: Court Dragon
Why i think merthur should be canon:
1) they’re gay
2) real reason: so i think its good for the plot too since magic is a euphemism for gay, relates to the theme of arthur bringing change to camelot but other than marrying a servant, he marries a MALE servant who has magic ☺️🫶😘🙏
Series ends with everyone at the roundtable, gathering for a meeting
Okay that’s it let me know what you want to change 🥰
**This rambling is now updated, check it out here:
To find my other ramblings about this AU, filter with the hashtag #must we really rely on fate?
#bbc merlin#merlin#merlin bbc#arthur pendragon#merthur#arthur bbc#merlin emrys#merlin x arthur#arthur x merlin#merlin prompt#merthur prompt#merlin fic ideas#merlin fic idea#merthur fic idea#gwen bbc#bbc merthur#morgana bbc#morgana pendragon#uther pendragon#gaius#mordred#morgause#nimueh#cendred#aggravaine#merlin fix it#must we really rely on fate?
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Garden of Secrets [33] - Stinging Nettle
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤
Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!
Summary: The hours before an important ball can be very tense.
Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of trauma and violence.
Word Count: 3400
Series Masterlist
Though attending parties hadn’t been a habit of yours up until you got married, you’d grown quite fond of them fast. Maybe it was the entertaining conversations, the company of your friends, drinks, or perhaps the overall free atmosphere that one could not have at a ball but now that you were here, you were now beginning to realize how much you had missed it.
“You seem to be in deep thought.”
Your head shot up and you turned around to see Lord Easton at the entrance of the balcony you were standing in. You smiled at him, then lifted the glass in your hand a bit, the chatter and the music coming from inside reaching the balcony as well.
“I may have drunk a bit too much,” you admitted. “Wanted to get some fresh air.”
“May I join you?”
“Of course,” you said and he closed the balcony door behind him, then approached you as you turned again to watch the beautiful view under the night sky. He placed his glass on the marble railing of the balcony and you stole a look at him.
“They’re having some sort of a sketching competition back in there.”
“Oh I saw it,” he said. “I think I will sit that one out.”
“You don’t want to practice?” you joked and he chuckled.
“I probably should, now that you mention it.”
“Mm hm,” you said. “I mean who else should practice if not the famed artist with thousands of admirers and many credits to his name?”
“No one is ever too good to practice,” he told you. “Especially an artist.”
You thought for a moment, then turned to him.
“Lord Easton—”
“Gordon,” he corrected you. “Your husband is a good friend of mine, and I consider you and I friends as well.”
You smiled slightly.
“Very well,” you said. “May I ask a favor of you, Gordon?”
“Of course.”
“My aunt is throwing a ball tomorrow,” you said. “And if you dropped by even for a short time, it would make her very happy. Not to mention the ton admires you so much and…you know how it goes.”
He smiled and bowed his head slightly.
“It would be my honor and privilege,” he said, making you beam.
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
A giggle escaped from your lips.
“Oh thank you!” you said. “She will be so happy. I’ll um— I’ll send you the invitation tomorrow?”
“I’m looking forward to it,” he said. “And there’s no need to thank me, I assure you.”
You sipped your drink, then stole a look at him.
“Does it ever tire you?”
“Attending balls?”
“No, the…” you motioned with your hands. “The attention from the ton, all the time.”
He hummed, reaching out to grab his glass to swirl the drink in it.
“Occupational hazard,” he said with a smile, making you laugh. “I mean it has its moments. I don’t mind it most of the time, balls are a way of socializing for example so that’s expected, but sometimes when I’m by myself on the street, I simply want to observe the crowd in quiet.”
“I could never be an artist,” you said, shaking your head and he raised his brows.
“You don’t enjoy attention?”
“I hate it,” you admitted. “I experienced it when I first debuted, with the suitors and such and I’m just…It’s not for me.”
“You might have to get used to some attention though,” he said, making you frown.
“How so?”
“Have you seen your husband’s works?” he joked. “Once he gets into the Academy and people start seeing how talented he is…”
“Benedict is good with all that,” you said. “No issues there, people already pay lots of attention to him, he’s used to that.”
“You’re his ultimate inspiration,” he reminded you. “People will be curious about you as well.”
You paused for a second, then shrugged your shoulders.
“That’s different than being an artist,” you said, trying to ignore the way your cheeks were burning and turned your head to check out what was happening inside. They seemed to have finished with their competition judging by the familiar faces in the room, so you nodded in the direction of the room.
“I’ll go back inside,” you said. “Are you coming?”
“In a moment,” he said and you clinked your glass with his, then made your way back inside. Your gaze fell on Benedict and Margery who were having a conversation at the corner of the room and your stomach did an unpleasant flip, but you shook your head at yourself and made your way to them. Margery cleared her throat when she saw you out of the corner of her eye and gave Benedict a warning look but it was gone so fast that you couldn’t even decide whether you had actually seen it before Benedict turned his head.
“Hello darling,” he said, but his soft tone did nothing to soothe the insecurity shooting through you.
“Am I interrupting something?” you asked, making Benedict shake his head. “Because I can just—”
“Oh you’re not interrupting anything,” Margery said with a laugh. “I was just giving Benedict a hard time because he had the audacity to badmouth Byron’s poetry in front of me.”
Benedict made a face. “I cannot believe you actually like his poetry.”
Margery heaved a sigh and turned to you.
“I give up,” she announced, making the corners of your lips twitch. “I’m going to need more drinks, excuse me.”
She walked away from you both and you pursed your lips together, then looked up at Benedict.
“Are you sure I didn’t interrupt?”
“Not at all,” he assured you with a small grin and entwined his fingers with yours, making your heart skip a beat. “Are you having fun?”
“I am, and I kind of missed it actually,” you admitted. “Coming to parties and such.”
“Did you?”
You nodded. “One would think you’re a bad influence, you hedonist artist.”
He gave you that lopsided grin. “Me, a bad influence?” he asked. “You’re the one with the knife.”
You shrugged your shoulders. “Yes but you’re the one with the debauchery.”
“Fair point,” he said and you repressed a laugh.
“Who won the sketching competition by the way?”
“Felix,” he said. “Lucy gave him full points.”
“Of course she did,” you said, stealing a look at Lucy who was now talking to Margery. ���So Byron hm?”
“Huh?” Benedict asked before frowned. “Oh yeah! Margery admires his lines a lot for some reason.”
“Right,” you said, that uncomfortable feeling twisting at your stomach again but before you could say anything else, Benedict pulled at your hand gently.
“Come on,” he said, “I’ll show you the winning sketch, Felix is very proud of it.”
*
You and Benedict had returned home around dawn and Benedict had an appointment with Gordon in the morning and Anthony in the afternoon, so by the time you woke up, he had already left home to meet Gordon. You had asked to take your breakfast in the drawing room as you tried to decide what the best time would be to drop by your uncle’s home before tonight’s ball to see if they needed any help.
Perhaps afternoon?
You sipped your tea while reading your book and as you bit into your toast, Paula entered the drawing room.
“Ma’am, Miss Harlowe is here.”
“Oh?” you said, putting down your toast and dusted the crumbs off your hands before standing up. Lottie stepped into the drawing room and made her way to you to pull you into a hug.
“Good morning!”
“Hello there,” you said with a smile and pulled back to look at her. “You look happy.”
“I am happy!” she said. “I have news for you.”
“That’s wonderful!” you said “Paula, can you bring Lottie some biscuits and tea?”
“Of course ma’am,” she said and walked out of the room, and you and Lottie sat down on the sofa.
“What’s the good news?” you asked and she squealed, shifting her weight.
“I wanted to tell you before the ball tonight,” she said. “And Tony will tell Benny and Colin this afternoon but I couldn’t wait until then.”
“Couldn’t wait for what?”
“We’re getting married!” she exclaimed and your eyes widened, a gasp getting caught in your throat.
“What?!”
“Yes and we will tell the rest of the family tonight—”
“Wh-how?!” you asked as a happy laugh escaped from your lips and you hugged her. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you!”
“You must tell me everything from the beginning,” you said as you pulled back. “How did he ask? When did he ask?”
An abashed look crossed her face and she cleared her throat.
“Well, um…” she said, nibbling on her lip. “It’s sort of—you must first promise me you will never tell anyone.”
“Of course I will not,” you assured her as a maid walked in with a tray of biscuits and tea. You thanked her, and watched her walk away before turning to Lottie. “Tell me.”
“A week ago.”
“A week ago?!” you asked. “And you didn’t tell me? Wait, is this payback for—”
“No no, it isn’t!” she cut you off. “Of course not.”
“Then?”
She took a deep breath, then sipped her tea.
“Do you remember how Tony and I left Bess’s ball early?”
You tilted your head. “Yes.”
“Well we wanted to talk more you see, and I’m very familiar with sneaking into Bridgerton House because I used to do that a lot when I was little, and everyone was either asleep or at the ball,” she said, making you raise your brows. “And we…we did talk.”
A small smirk pulled at your lips.
“Oh?” you asked. “You sneaked into his house just to talk?”
She repressed a smile. “At first yes.”
“Then?”
“You and I had a conversation earlier that day,” she said, shyness apparent in her tone. “And you said that it felt divine, and I already knew Anthony and I are in love, and…”
Your jaw dropped and you let out a laugh.
“Oh wow.”
“And then he asked me to marry him.”
Alright, this was official; you were the only one who wasn’t consummating her marriage.
“But a week ago?” you asked, trying to focus. “You’ve been engaged for a week and neither of you told—”
“It was my idea,” she said. “I asked him to wait for a week.”
“Why?”
“Well…” she heaved a sigh. “I wanted to tell all of you yes, but Colin was still very heartbroken over what happened with Miss Marina and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings accidentally. You know, first Benny, then Daphne, now Tony finding love and not Colin, at least yet.”
You stared at her, warmth filling your chest. “You waited for a week so that Colin wouldn’t feel bad?”
She nodded.
“He’s like a brother to me,” she said. “We all grew up together.”
You reached out to squeeze her hand. “Oh Lottie…”
“But we will tell our families tonight!” she said. “And Tony will tell them beforehand, and I’m telling you now.”
“I’m glad you are,” you said with a laugh. “Well I’m so happy for you! I told you he would propose within the season.”
“I still cannot believe it,” she said. “I’m the happiest person in the world.”
You grinned at her.
“And I take it your night was divine?”
She gasped, a giggle escaping from her lips. “Y/N!”
“What?” you asked, feigning innocence. “I mean you’re marrying him so—”
“It was more than divine,” she said, biting on her lip in embarrassment. “It was perfect.”
Oh well, you were going to take her word for it.
Hers and Daphne’s and your aunt’s and Benedict’s, to be more specific. Considering everyone else had experienced it but you, you could only believe them instead of seeing it for yourself.
“I’m glad to hear it,” you said, a smile warming your face and she shifted on the sofa.
“The ton will not be very nice, I think,” she said. “They weren’t nice when they thought Benny and I were in courtship, or when I was in actual courtship with Tony, and now that we’re engaged, I can’t help but think—”
“Lottie,” you interrupted her. “What the ton thinks does not matter at all. Let them speak, they do little else anyway.”
She nodded slowly.
“I just…” she trailed off. “I just wish they knew how in love we are.”
You waved a hand in the air.
“They will,” you said. “Never mind them. Now, tell me what you’re planning for the wedding.”
*
By the time Benedict got back home from his meeting with Gordon, it was nearly noon and Lottie had already left. You had promised her you would be her maid of honor and help her with everything concerning the wedding, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t excited for it. Lottie had asked for your help with her wedding bouquet and the flowers for the wedding breakfast, and you were trying to come up with different combinations when you heard a knock on the door and lifted your head to see Benedict.
“Oh hello,” you said, closing your notebook before he could see the flower arrangement ideas you were writing down. He gave you a happy smile.
“Hey,” he said and stepped inside. “Working on something?”
“Maybe,” you said with a smirk. “Scared I will become your artistic rival?”
“Mm, I wouldn’t stand a chance against you,” he teased, making you giggle. He walked towards you to fling himself on the sofa next to you, then reached out to grab a biscuit from the plate on the small coffee table.
“How is Gordon?”
“He’s fine,” he said. “I think he’s working on a painting. The gala should be fun.”
“The gala?” you asked. “They hold galas for only one painting?”
“When it’s the painting of that big of an artist, yes.”
“Are you looking forward to your own galas?” you asked, making him grin.
“Let me get one painting into the Academy first, and we’ll build from there,” he replied and you shot him a look.
“I’ll remind this to you on your gala,” you mused and tilted your head. “I’m assuming I will be invited?”
“You’ll be the guest of honor,” he told you and you let out a laugh.
“I like the sound of that.”
“How about you?” he asked. “How was your day?”
“Rather interesting,” you said. “Are you meeting Anthony and Colin after this?”
He nodded, biting into his biscuit.
“Apparently Anthony has something he wants to say to us.”
“Wonder what that might be,” you muttered, trying to keep a straight face. Benedict shrugged his shoulders.
“Who knows?” he said. “And you? Any plans before the ball tonight?”
“I’ll visit auntie to see if she needs any help before people arrive,” you said. “I’ll get back around the evening, get dressed here and then we can go together.”
“Do you need any help before that?”
You bit back a smirk. “I can handle auntie,” you said. “Besides, I think today will be hectic enough for you.”
“Why?”
“Just a feeling,” you said and he narrowed his eyes, his whole attention on you.
“Wait, what do you know?”
“Nothing at all,” you said, feigning innocence. “It’s merely a hunch. Speaking of, shouldn’t you be on your way anyway? “
A chuckle climbed up his throat. “Are you trying to get rid of me, dear wife?”
Your jaw dropped.
“No!” you exclaimed. “I’m just saying, Anthony isn’t exactly known for his endless patience.”
He popped the rest of the biscuit into his mouth. “He should learn, I heard people say it’s a virtue.”
“Oh is that so?” you said with a huff of laughter spilling from your lips. “You know a lot about patience then?”
“Is this the part you call me the ton’s horizontal refreshment again?”
“If you’re going to claim to be a patient person, yes,” you pointed out, making him clutch at his chest as if he was heartbroken.
“Ouch,” he said. “I am a patient person.”
“You are the perfect picture of hedonism, that’s what you are.”
“Well hedonism is a bit of a—”
“Drinking, partying,” you said, counting with your fingers. “Being very intimate with a lot of ladies…”
The tips of his ears went pink and he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You know what, you’re probably right,” he said after a pause. “I shouldn’t keep Anthony waiting.”
“You’re going to avoid this conversation just like that?”
“Judging by how our earlier conversations on this went, I’m taking my leave before you ask me—”
“Before I ask you how exactly it was like during those parties?”
“That yes,” he pointed out and pushed himself off of the sofa as you repressed a laugh. He leaned in to kiss the top of your head, making your heart skip a beat.
“See you in the evening,” he murmured and walked out of the room. You were painfully aware of the smile on your face, and you dragged the tip of your tongue over your bottom lip before you heaved a sigh and slipped a little on the sofa, leaning your head back.
*
You knew that Teddy had stayed at Josie and Andrew’s house last night because your uncle’s house was absolute chaos because of the upcoming ball, people working day and night. Not only that, the last you heard Andrew was letting him ride his pony inside the house so you were quite certain Teddy had no issues with the preparations of the ball.
You wouldn’t have been surprised if he began insisting on staying there half of the week to be honest.
With the way your aunt had been working to make this ball perfect, you could only hope that everything would go well tonight. Almost everyone you knew was going to be there, so you were sure that it was going to be fun.
Now all you had to do was to convince your aunt of that.
The carriage stopped in front of the house and you made your way past the gate, but instead of going into the house you figured you could check on your garden first. So you passed by the house to reach the backyard, then tilted your head when you saw your aunt there, talking to the gardener.
“Auntie?” you called out and she turned around, a look of surprise flashing over her face.
“Y/N my dear!” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to see if you needed any help before tonight,” you answered. “And to see the garden while I’m at it.”
“Oh that’s sweet of you,” she said and came to hug you, then pulled back to look at you better. “No need for that, almost all the preparations are finished.”
“In that case, can I see the ballroom?” you asked with a laugh. “I’m curious, you’ve been working on it for so long.”
She hesitated for a moment, then waved a hand in the air. “What would be the surprise then?”
You huhed.
“That’s fair,” you said. “Anyways, I have a surprise guest for the ball, you will lose your mind when you see him and so will the ton—”
“Y/N, perhaps you should go home and get some rest,” your aunt cut you off almost in a distracted manner. “It’ll be a long night tonight, you know?”
You tilted your head in confusion.
“Are you sure you’re alright auntie?”
“…Of course,” she said after a pause. “Just—you know, preparing a ball is rather stressful.”
“I can imagine,” you said. “One of the many reasons why I will never throw a ball I think.”
She smiled at you, but it faded when her eyes found something over your shoulder. You pulled your brows into a frown and turned around to follow her line of sight, but as soon as you did, you froze. You could feel your whole body stiffening, your heart leaping to your throat as you stared at the familiar face who had the audacity to smile at you, that throbbing pain in your wrist coming back in full force.
“I hear congratulations are in order?”
You weren’t sure how you found your voice, but somehow you managed to speak through frozen lips.
“Hello father.”
Chapter 34
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