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randomshyperson · 5 months

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Heart Drawing - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Dinner with Mr. Heart takes a different turn. Or, what anyone who wasn't a synthezoid would have done at the sight of Wanda in that dress.

Warnings: (+18), purely smut, bottom!Wanda (bratty), rough smut, creampie, strap-on, fingering and oral (w rec), Westview setting, established relationship, kinda semi-public (?), almost getting caught but Wanda keeps doing magic tricks | Words: 1.169k

A/N-> I can't believe I finally wrote this, it's a fixing of the scene from WandaVision because I always thought it was unbelievable. If Wanda prepared a romantic dinner for me, especially wearing that, there would be no dinner at all. A good Wandavision anniversary for all of us btw <3

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

-&-

Although it was one of the skills she developed first, mental control could be very difficult. Especially if Wanda was experiencing some other strong emotion, such as stress, anger, or sadness.

Or physical exertion, like a fight with an alien or lifting machines or the like.

Or just being so close to cumming in the middle of the kitchen.

And you, well, you weren't making it any easier for her. Your hips never faltered in their brutal rhythm against her and every time the fake cock attached to your waist slid between her tight walls, Wanda had the impression that even the magic around the house was failing.

Her eyes were still red, though - Wanda is still surprised that she has any control when you slide your fingers down to tug at her neglected clit and she's forced to muffle her whimper with a bite on your shoulder.

She's sure she won't be able to keep the two guests static in the kitchen if you keep this up. But the soft protest is little more than a choke; "S-slow down, detka" she gasps directly into your ear.

You adjust the angle, and your hips slow down, but god, you thrust hard enough for the kitchen counter to crack. The dress she called a surprise barely hanging on her body is pushed down even further with the rough motions and Wanda won't be surprised if the the magic fails her once and for all with the reach of her orgasm.

She wasn't complaining, after all, this was the whole point of the night. A misunderstanding about a heart drawn on the calendar had led her to believe that tonight would be an anniversary (of which, she and Agnes came to no conclusion, and Wanda preferred to pretend it was supposed to be a wedding one). She got chocolate fruit and a dress that made you ignore your boss in the other room and force her against the counter as soon as you caught the first glimpse of her cleavage.

Wanda tried to be the voice of reason, even if her voice was hoarse and not very determined. She asked you; "What about them?" but all you did was give her a dirty little smile as you unbuttoned your pants.

"Play your tricks, my lovely little witch." That's what you whispered before sliding into her in probably the only gentle thrust of the night, and well, we're back to the beginning.

Wanda being fucked roughly on the counter in the kitchen while trying to keep the two guests in the living room.

She doesn't know, or think she doesn't know, at least not consciously about how that toy ended up inside your pants. She doesn't think about it, nor about when your hips start to buck and how when you come first, she can feel something hot squirting inside her. She can only mew in arousal, feeling your weight fall on her as you return your movements, faster than before making it impossible for her to hold back any longer. Your mouth finds hers again, and you swallow every dirty moan she lets out as she finally reaches her climax a moment later.

The kitchen, perhaps the whole city, shakes with the force of this orgasm. Wanda doesn't notice, but you're kind of mesmerized by the whole thing. She doesn't even realize she has lost control, still panting and soft under your body but you hear footsteps approaching.

It's your powers that keep the kitchen door tightly shut, and Wanda blinks exhaustedly at the knocks.

"I'll tell them dinner's canceled." You murmur, kissing her cheek before pulling out, the act drawing a gasp from the other. Wanda forces her body to react when you make mention of moving away, her legs hooking behind your knees while she gestures in the air with her fingers glowing red.

"They'll find their way on their own." That's what she says before pressing her mouth to yours again. You smiled into the kiss, saving a mental note to comment that you'd probably lose your job for this. But those were problems for later; right now, you were focused on your darling wife moaning on your tongue.

Your kisses descended to her collarbone, marking the skin gently as Wanda struggled to breathe. Your body soon followed the lead, and you ended up on your knees on the kitchen floor with your face between her legs, taking a moment just to admire the image of Wanda's pussy leaking your mixed cum.

Your breathing against her was driving her crazy, she moved her hips forward, one of her hands grabbing a handful of your hair and trying to pull you in, but you fought back. Wanda meowed in protest.

"Please." It didn't sound much like begging, and you raised your eyes to her. Wanda blushed heavily at the image but tried to bait you by moving her free fingers to her own pussy, spreading the wetness before sinking a finger in. She whimpered before teasing; "Come on baby, I know you want a taste."

You bite your tongue, but you can't contain the shuddering of your body and Wanda smiles at you, a finger teasing its way in. You try not to fall for it but she mewls as she pushes her finger further inside and you curse quietly before you take action. Your hand pushes hers away, and you sink your face into her pussy before Wanda can complain; she chokes on a moan, her back arching on the counter as you eat her out in hungry determination. Your hands grip her thighs wide open and Wanda struggles to control the sounds, trying to find some ground as she clutches your hair, but all it serves for is to keep your head in place as she grinds harshly against your face.

She is almost robbed of her orgasm the next moment when there is a knock at the back door. It's she who is startled, failing in her movements towards your face, but you groan in frustration at the interruption and instead of stopping the whole thing, the vibration takes Wanda over the edge, and she has to cover her mouth with her hand to avoid the sound that escapes her as the climax washes over her.

She's still trembling on the counter when you stand up, a mess of cum running down your chin that you wipe off with the back of your hand, which Wanda watches with exhausted eyes as you lick it clean a moment later.

"I'll send her away." You mutter, evidently against your will to get off her. When Wanda mentions protesting, you offer her a wink, your hands busy hiding the toy back in your pants. " We'll carry on upstairs."

She tries to stand up on shaky legs while you answer the back door to the nosy neighbor. By now, Wanda's mind is so dizzy from a good fuck that she doesn't even care if Agnes was able to hear anything.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagines

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bellaxgiornata · 9 months

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Falling For the Devil [Part eighty-nine: "The Stray"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Matt spends his morning alone with the new cat until you return.

Or You say something to Matt that has a bigger impact on him than you even realize.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 3.2k

a/n: This update is also light and fluffy with its own little surprise at the end. It's also entirely in Matt's POV. Enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly

Matt hunched over his steaming mug of coffee on the kitchen table, one of his hands running along his face as he tried to wake up. He was still dressed in only his boxers, finally crawling out of bed a little after he’d heard you leave the apartment. He knew you’d woken up early, over-eager to pick up the extra odds and ends for the cat that you’d excitedly ordered last night on your phone from the pet store just two blocks over.

It had admittedly been adorable listening to how thrilled you were just over picking out cat toys last night. A faint smile ghosted over Matt’s lips even now as he remembered the little shriek you’d made, grabbing at his arm beside you on the couch when you’d spotted sushi themed ones. Granted, Matt always thought you were adorable and found your excitement contagious.

Drawing the mug of coffee to his lips, Matt could hear the soft patter of paws approaching him. He drank down the liquid before lowering the mug back to the table, his attention shifting to where he heard the cat sit down on the floor not too far from his chair. The soft swish of its tail back and forth was fast becoming a familiar sound around the apartment already.

"She's not here right now," Matt told the cat. "So whatever manipulative face you've been giving her to get your way since yesterday? It won't work on me. Because I can't see it."

A tiny mew met Matt’s ears, the cat's tail continuing to rhythmically move back and forth along the floor.

"Yeah, you won," Matt told him. "Seems like you didn't belong to anyone after all those calls we made yesterday, so you get to stay here." He pointed a finger down towards the cat, his expression stern. "But don't think you get free run of this place destroying things just because she likes you so much. No scratching up the couch. Or knocking dishes off the kitchen shelves– especially the coffee mugs," he told the cat. "She's weirdly attached to a few of them. I don’t want her crying because you broke one."

Another small meow met Matt’s ears and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. Pressing his lips firmly together, he fought the smile threatening to slip onto his face.

He'd never had a pet before. His father never could've afforded taking care of one when Matt was young, and there was absolutely no way he'd have ever been allowed to have one at St. Agnes, so he initially assumed having a cat roaming around the apartment would be annoying with his senses. The meows, the multiple paw pads hitting the floor as the cat walked, the incessant purring, and the irritating sound of a cat’s tongue as it groomed itself. Those were all things that immediately came to mind when you’d suggested keeping the cat after he’d rescued it from the dumpster. But surprisingly Matt had discovered he hadn't minded the cat's presence much at all–other than the litter box you'd already bought for it. Though if you or Matt cleaned it immediately, the smell wasn't that bad to him and he was quickly learning to ignore it.

This cat’s meowing wasn't actually loud and grating to his ears like he'd always imagined it would be, either. Instead, it was more of a light, sweet noise, one that he’d come to like each time he'd heard it. And the purring almost had a white noise effect just like the patter of rain on the windows. If he was being honest, he'd actually liked falling asleep with the cat at the foot of the bed last night. He'd focused in on the purring, managing to tune out not only the sounds in the apartment building, but also the noise outside in Hell’s Kitchen. Last night was the fastest Matt had ever fallen asleep since gaining his heightened senses with the sound of the purring and your steady heartbeat in his ears.

He heard the cat rise to its feet, padding over towards his legs. A second later he felt the cat's head rub against his bare calf and the smile finally made its way onto Matt’s face. The cat's fur, after having been cleaned from his time among the garbage, was silky and smoother than he'd imagined it would be, too. He figured it would be scratchy and irritating to his sensitive skin, because generally that’s how it always felt when he'd pet cats or dogs in the past. But apparently not this cat.

"You're annoyingly persistent, you know that?" Matt told the cat.

Reaching a hand down, Matt scratched the fur under the cat's chin. Seconds later Matt’s ears picked up on the faint rumble as gradually the still nameless cat began to purr. Some sense of pride began to stir in Matt’s chest at the sound.

“Thought it was supposed to be hard to gain a cat’s affection,” Matt mused quietly. “Don’t blame you for loving her so easily, but I don’t know what the hell you'd want with me.”

The cat stepped closer to Matt as he spoke, rubbing his side along Matt’s shin. The cat’s tail soon curled itself around his calf, the soft hairs almost tickling Matt. The smile on his face grew just a bit wider.

“I know what you’re doing,” Matt told the cat, withdrawing his hand from the cat’s chin and sitting back in his chair. “It’s not going to work.”

Turning his attention back to his coffee, he left the cat to his own devices. He’d noticed since the both of you had brought him home that he’d often taken residence along the radiator by the window in the living room, curling up on it and watching the pigeons on the rooftop across the street. But as Matt picked his mug back up, about to drink more of his coffee, he felt two paws suddenly land on his knee.

The cup of coffee hovered just before Matt’s mouth, his hand freezing. Head tilting to the side, his brows furrowed. The cat had stretched up on his hind legs apparently, his front feet resting on Matt’s knee. He heard the air shift just a bit as one of the paws reached up, and then Matt felt a furry little paw tap the back of his hand that was holding his coffee mug. Turning his head back towards the cat, he heard another little meow again.

“What?” he asked the cat. “I know I heard her feed you and fill your water bowl already when she woke up. And she’s the one who promised to fatten you up, not me. So don’t think you can trick me into giving you more food.”

The little paw gently tapped the back of Matt’s hand again and Matt’s eyes narrowed as he focused in on the cat. Nothing seemed wrong with him–or at least, as far as he could tell. It’s not like he generally tuned into a cat’s physiology and could really tell if something was off. But the vet you’d both taken him to yesterday–who’d in fact confirmed the nameless cat was indeed a male–had said he’d seemed malnourished but otherwise healthy. And Matt couldn’t pick up on anything different from him since then.

“Do you just…want attention?” Matt asked. “Is that it?”

Of course the cat couldn’t answer, but the other place Matt knew this nameless cat had enjoyed spending time was curled up on the couch. Usually next to you or in your lap. Matt remembered the first time the cat had crawled into your lap and laid down last night. He’d been finishing up taking care of the dishes after dinner, pausing when he heard your heart speed up in your chest. At first he’d thought your pulse increasing had something to do with him–but no. It was the cat. Again. Though, the cute little giggle you’d made when the cat settled down on you was one of the best sounds he’d heard in awhile.

“Fine,” Matt relented. “I’ll sit on the couch and drink my coffee and pet you. But if you so much as scratch me with one of your nails,” he warned the cat as he rose to his feet, “I’m going to throw away all of your cat toys.”

The cat made a noise in its throat, the sound something akin to a grunt of disbelief. The unexpected noise surprised Matt, causing him to chuckle as he navigated his way to the couch, trying to keep an ear out for the cat so he didn’t step on him.

“Okay, you’re right, I won’t do that,” he admitted. “But only because of her, not you. Don’t get that mixed up. She was just…really excited about the little sushi ones. I couldn’t possibly throw them away on her.”

Matt settled down onto the couch, the leather cold and a little scratchy against his skin. With a sigh, he raised his coffee mug up to his mouth for a drink, the warmth of it a pleasant contrast to the fabric on his bare skin. He heard the cat jump up onto the couch next to him as he swallowed the liquid, the soft thump of his paws landing on the cushion next to Matt only a faint noise with how little the cat weighed. Almost instantly he curled into a ball against the side of Matt’s bare thigh, the warmth of his furry little body hard not to notice.

Relaxing back into the cushions, Matt’s eyes closed as he enjoyed his drink and tried to mentally prepare himself for the day. The warmth of the cat at his side soon became soothing, and admittedly it was nice to not be sitting here alone drinking his morning coffee while you were gone. He focused in on the cat’s faint purring, the noise a comfortable decibel to Matt’s ears. He was so relaxed and tuned into the cat that he hadn’t even noticed you’d entered the apartment building, even managing to startle him when you’d opened the apartment door.

“I’m back, Matty!”

Matt’s eyes opened at the sound of your voice, the cat at his side stirring as well. Turning his head towards the entryway hall, he heard the telltale sound of your heartbeat pounding its usual rhythm in his ears. A smile spread across his lips. That would always be his favorite sound.

“You manage to get everything you needed, sweetheart?” he called out to you.

“Yeah, they had everything I ordered,” you answered, the sound of bags rustling in his ears as you set them down to take off your shoes. “But I may have also bought him this little scratching post that’s also a hammock. It is the perfect height for the bedroom window,” you continued on, Matt grinning and shaking his head at the excitement in your voice. “So he can curl up in it and watch the pigeons and the traffic comfortably in our room, you know?”

“You’re spoiling this cat, you know that, right?” he teased.

Matt heard the playful scoff you made as you began to pick up all the bags in your hands again. Soon after, he heard your footsteps continue to make their way down the entryway hall towards him.

“He was found in a dumpster , Matt,” you replied. “I think he deserves some nice things.”

Matt shifted his attention down to the cat still curled up beside him on the couch, running his hand along the cat’s fur. “Yeah, I guess trash cat deserves some nice things,” he agreed.

“Matt!” you chastised.

Matt immediately chuckled at the tone of your voice and the way it had went up a few octaves. Admittedly he kept calling the cat that just because he enjoyed the way you reacted every time he did.

“He’s not a trash cat!” you shot back.

Matt heard you placing the bags down behind the couch before you made your way around it. Though when you had, he heard how you paused and the way your heartbeat sped up. Eyes narrowing, his head canted to the side in interest. What had that been about?

“Well, he was found in garbage,” Matt continued half-heartedly, his ears listening to your body. “And I am saying it affectionately.”

“Then maybe I should start calling you a trash Devil,” you quipped, “since I found you in a dumpster.”

He couldn’t resist the peel of laughter that fell out of him, his focus on your body briefly interrupted. He heard you make your way to the couch before he felt the cushion beside him shift as you sat down.

“Unfortunately that doesn’t have as good of a ring to it as Daredevil,” Matt replied, his laughter subsiding.

“Mmm, no, I suppose not,” you agreed.

Matt focused back on you, still absently petting the cat at his side with his free hand. Your heart had returned to its usual pace now. Matt’s head tilted to the side again, curiosity winning out.

“What was with the change in your heartbeat a moment ago?” he asked. “Just before you sat down?”

“Oh,” you breathed out, nervously laughing lightly as you waved a hand. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

A mischievous grin slipped onto Matt’s face as he shook his head. “Okay, so it was definitely something then. Spill, sweetheart.”

There was a moment of silence before you answered. Matt could hear the way your nails were picking at a string on what he assumed were your shorts.You were fidgeting, something you didn’t do too often around him anymore.

“I just–just wasn’t expecting to see you sitting here practically naked with the cat,” you muttered.

Matt’s bottom lip slipped between his teeth, fighting back a smile. “You see me like this every morning, but me sitting with a cat gets your heart racing like that?” he teased.

The air shifted around you as you shrugged, your hands continuing to fidget in your lap. “I don’t know,” you muttered, your cheeks heating, “it’s just like…coming home to my little family or something now, you know? The two of you here together. Both my boys.”

The teasing smile slowly faded from Matt’s lips, his expression softening as he read the nervousness around your body increasing. A warmth stirred in Matt’s chest at your words, his heart swelling. Because you considered him and this stray cat family. Your family.

You waved a dismissive hand, laughing nervously. “Nevermind, it’s stupid,” you said.

“No,” Matt said softly, shaking his head. “It’s not stupid at all.”

He could feel a lump forming in the back of his throat, a well of emotions trying to rise to the surface. Blinking hard a few times, he tried to push it all back. He wasn’t about to get emotional about that, not right now.

“So uh,” Matt began, clearing his throat, “we should probably start to think of names for this little guy if you don’t want trash cat to stick.”

“Actually,” you said, voice a little hesitant, “I had a thought when I was picking up everything this morning from the pet store.”

“For a name?” Matt asked.

“Yeah,” you answered, nodding. “I was thinking…what if we named him something after your dad?”

That lump seemed to abruptly thicken in the back of Matt’s throat. He swallowed a couple of times, a blurry image of his father mentally painting itself in his mind. It was getting harder to fight the tears in his eyes as he blinked them back.

“What–what do you mean?” he asked, hoping you didn’t notice the waver in his voice.

“I just meant it might be like a way to honor him?” you answered nervously. “And I–I was thinking maybe we could call him Mittens?”

Matt could feel the weight of the tears building in his eyes as his tongue nervously slipped out, wetting his lips. His hand stopped along the cat’s back, his fingers burying themselves into the cat’s comforting fur.

“Mittens?” Matt asked softly.

“Yeah,” you said. “Like boxing mitts? Since your father was such a great boxer. And, in your own way, I suppose you are, too. Though you don’t technically wear mittens out at night–but you probably should in winter time because you’re always freezing out there.”

Matt huffed out a laugh just as a single tear slipped out of his eye. Before he had a chance to discreetly try to wipe it away, you’d already noticed it. He heard the way you sucked in a breath, your back straightening on the couch beside him. And then it was your soft fingers on his cheek catching the tear, wiping it away. His eyelids lowered as he leant into your touch.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No,” Matt replied quickly. “You didn’t. I uh, I think that’s a great idea, actually.”

“You do?” you asked.

Attempting yet again to swallow that lump in his throat, Matt nodded against your hand. “Yeah, I love it,” he whispered.

You leaned in towards him, placing a gentle kiss to his cheek where the tear had fallen. Matt’s lips curled upwards in a smile at the feel of them against his skin, so soft and warm. When you pulled away, you placed a sweet kiss to his lips next, lingering against them for a moment. Once again Matt’s heart felt like it was swelling in his chest, a whole well of emotions building within him that he was struggling to keep down.

You focused your attention down onto the cat next, your hands gently stroking the top of the cat’s head. Matt smiled when he heard the soft coo you spoke to the cat with.

“What about you?” you asked him. “Do you like Mittens?”

The resounding purr that began so soon after you’d asked the question seemed to be his response.

“Sounds like a yes,” Matt whispered.

You giggled, still focused on petting the cat as you enthusiastically continued to chat to him, trying out the new name. Mittens seemed content with the name choice and the attention, purring even louder as he curled up further against Matt’s leg.

But while you were currently very focused on the cat, Matt was focused on you. That warmth in his chest only seemed to grow even more as he sat there, listening to your cheerful and bright voice as you spoke. He couldn’t fight the smile that gradually returned to his face at what you’d said just a bit ago.

Family. That word meant a lot of things to Matt, but it was something he’d felt like he’d never truly had ever since he’d lost his father. Even if his mother was only a few blocks away at Clinton Church, it wasn’t quite the same thing, not with the history between him and Maggie. Foggy’s family had honestly been the closest thing Matt had ever had to a family, but he’d only met them when he was grown and in college. But still, he’d never truly felt like he’d had a family of his own, one that he belonged to.

Not until now. Because you were right, the three of you were a family.

Matt drew his coffee mug back up to his mouth, his mind suddenly and very surely made up as he took another drink. Monday he’d tell you he was working late on a case so you wouldn’t expect him home at the usual time. And then he’d finally ask Foggy to go help him pick out a ring.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock #daredevil

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marybeatriceofmodena · 1 year

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A'ight, what is it about Anne Brontë and Tenant of Wildfell Hall? I keep seeing stuff about how Anne is the unproblematic Brontë sister and that's what kept me away from her books lol

*kracks knuckles* All right. So, remember how the Brontë sisters wrote three novels simultaneously? Charlotte wrote The Professor, Emily wrote Wuthering Heights, and Anne wrote Agnes Grey. The two latter got picked up by publishers, but The Professor was rejected, so Charlotte finished up Jane Eyre and sent it to a publisher, who accepted it immediately and had it published before Wuthering Heights and Agnes Grey got printed. All three of them wrote under pen names (Charlotte was Currer Bell, Anne was Acton Bell, and Emily was Ellis Bell), because they knew their novels were, say, a little controversial, and that if it was known they were women, their characters would be judged and immediately associated to their works. So needless to say, they were VERY supportive of each other, because they knew no one else would. (Their father was also supportive, but they published their novels without telling him at first but once they did, he was very encouraging, thankfully.)

It's easy to see why Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights would be considered controversial in their day (they still kind of are today given the Discourse(tm), lol). Agnes Grey, while it didn't do as well as JE and WH, was criticized for being a little too... let's say, honest about a governess' day-to-day life, when Anne wrote it drawing from her own experiences as a governess. The thing with Anne is that people find her stuff a little moralizing, but it was in her best interest to present Agnes as virtuous given how she made little secret of how poorly governesses could be treated, since it wasn't that rare they'd be accused of profiting from the families they were employed by, when there were abuse cases more often than not.

Then The Tenant of Wildfell Hall came out, and that's when criticism started to fly. May Sinclair (an early 20th century suffragist) would later write that the scene where Helen (the main character of the novel) slams her door to her husband's face had a reveberation that was heard throughout England. It's the story (in case you don't mind getting spoiled for a 150-year-old book) of a lady who marries a Victorian fuckboy called Huntington, ends up in an abusive household where her only comfort is her son, and once she realizes that her husband is becoming a bad influence on her child, she leaves him and manages to hide in a house that her brother is willing to rent to her, while she tries to earn a small living by painting. And people lost their shit, because according to them, Helen was a bad woman for leaving her husband, even though she did it to, you know, get her son out of a toxic environment. If Charlotte criticized anything about the novel, it's that she thought some aspects of Huntington were depicted too graphically, but they mostly had to do with his alcoholism and his adultery (this is important: those critcisms have nothing to do with Helen, or how Tenant is shade thrown at Charlotte and Emily's works). That might have been because Anne got some inspiration for Huntington from Branwell, their brother, who was also an alcoholic and got fired from his job as a tutor for having an affair with the lady of the house. Charlotte was pretty fed up with Branwell at that point, and while Emily was the one who got along with him best, they had some pretty big fights because she was in no way a pushover (so the belief that Charlotte and Emily idolized Branwell while Anne was the only one who saw through his BS is also, incidentally, BS).

So, why did Charlotte stop Tenant from being re-printed after Anne's death? Simply put, the criticism against it was getting worse, and people were defaming Anne's character because of it. Charlotte had had her own share of troubles with Jane Eyre - she dedicated the second edition to William Makepeace Thackeray (of Vanity Fair and Barry Lyndon fame) because he was her favorite author, without knowing his wife was institutionalized after suffering from severe post-partum depression. And that led, of course, to people speculating that Jane Eyre was semi-autobiographical, and that Charlotte was Thackeray's mistress. (I mean, it *is* semi-autobiographical, but Thackeray had nothing to do with it.) So she was understandably a little on edge, and while she edited Agnes Grey for a reprinting after Anne's death (given there were a lot of spelling mistakes and the like in the first printing), she asked for Tenant to not be reprinted to protect her sister's memory.

So no, Charlotte did not block Tenant from being as well-known as Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre because she was "jealous", or because she was mad that Anne was "throwing shade" at her and at Emily. She was protecting her sister's reputation, because she wasn't even alive anymore to speak for herself and mount any kind of defense, and that was while Charlotte's own reputation was under fire, after she had lost the two people who had supported her the most - Emily died in 1848, and Anne in 1849. To try to pit these sisters against each other, when two of them died far too young and the surviving one had to pick up the pieces and defend them against public opinion - it is simply distasteful, and it needs to stop.

#Anne Brontë #Charlotte Brontë #Emily Brontë #the tenant of wildfell hall #jane eyre #agnes grey #wuthering heights #literature #english literature #also: tenant is great and you should definitely read it

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mosneakers · 6 months

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Coraleye calls out to the dead for the loving mother, letting her know her child would like to see her. She speaks softly into the atmosphere, drawing death so near with her delicate incantations, the veil that separates the realm of the living from the realm of the dead is now only made of lace.

With their head lowered and eyes closed, Morgyn immerses themselves in Coraleye's voice, infusing intention into her words. Tycho tries emulating their concentration, sneakily stealing glances at Coraleye from the corner of his eye. He's captivated by her craft, as if she might as well be beckoning him instead. He becomes hyper-fixated on the movements that her hand makes as he holds it tight, and begins to wonder whether or not those movements are being mirrored on both hands.

The energy in the room insidiously shifts to a hushed stillness. Even the circle of flames, which danced erratically seconds ago, now settles with an uncanny anticipation, casting eerie shadows with unknown intentions into every corner. Coraleye shudders, she can feel the presence of an extra entity lingering behind her, but it isn't Rosemary.

Ripping through the silence, a guttural yelp escapes Coraleye's lips and she scrambles over the sacred circle of flames reaching out and clutching onto any arms within her grasp that she could seek refuge in. She holds onto Tycho and Morgyn for dear life. Coraleye: SOMETHING TOUCHED MY SHOULDER! [Stuttering] I-it... it grabbed me! It was definitely someone's hand... Morgyn: Are you sure it was- Coraleye: YES! There's no mistaking. Someone else is in the room with us.

Their eyes dart around the room in panic, and a short silence falls upon them, before Tycho hesitantly musters something up. Tycho: Well Cor... This is a séance... right? I mean, isn't that the whole point?

[Another pause]

Morgyn: [Bursts into fits of laughter]

Coraleye tries to maintain a frown, but the laughter becomes infectious and soon all three are joining in on it. Coraleye: [Affectionately touches Tycho's face] Well... I was expecting Mama Rosemary and whoever touched me was NOT her. It startled me, okay?

Tycho: Yes, that was made apparent by the little squeaky sound you made when you leapt across the fire.

Coraleye: Squeaky sound? How very dare you! I did not squeak! I gasped.

Morgyn: No, you definitely squeaked...

Coraleye: What?! You're taking his side on this?! Tycho's thoughts wander back to Coraleye's hands. He glances at Morgyn, who promptly gives a swift double tap to Coraleye's hand, still resting on their leg, as if silently asking, "are we good now?"

Coraleye: [Swiftly pulling her hand away] I'm so sorry about that, I didn't realize—

Morgyn: Darling, you were right about that presence not being my mother's... I think someone is here to see you... Tycho: Wait... Is that who I think it is?

Coraleye: ...Grandma Agnes?

#ts4 #MD4season10 #MD4 #Coraleye Darling #Tycho Curious #RealmOfMagicGetaway #Morgyn Ember #GIF #Agnes Darling

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radiant-reid · 2 years

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Ok hear me out…

Cute little blurb where Spencer and his pregnant wife bicker about baby names? 🥹 Like she’s thinking kinda ordinary ones but he comes up with all the unique and special ones instead, idk if this makes sense lol

aw like that tiktok trend where it's the moms saying why the dads rejected certain names. also, btw, if you're name is one mentioned in this, i'm sorry, just going off some criticisms for the plot

"Okay, here's one." Spencer starts, flipping through the book of baby names he'd brought.

He insisted you wait to do this together and banned you from looking online- like a normal person would- until he found a book of names.

So there you are, sitting up against the headboard, under the covers as you sift through hundreds of names to find the perfect one for your perfect baby.

"Yeah?" You ask, fingers pausing on the trackpad of your laptop as you turn to look at him.

"Wren, it means small bird." He says, eagerly waiting for your reaction.

You giggle a little at him while you shake your head. "Wren Reid? Give the kid a chance."

"Oh." He realizes, looking like the news is hitting him all over again as his eyes gloss over with tears, happy tears. "They're going to be a Reid."

Seeing him tearful at the most seemingly insignificant moments only makes you so much surer that there's no one you'd rather do this with than him.

"Yeah, they are, so they need a name that's not so...rhyme-y." You direct him back to the book as you look back at your laptop. "Something noble like Spencer."

"Spencer came from the name for people who used to dispense goods to affluent households in Middle English." He recites to you, clearly having looked it up before.

You nod, continuing your search before hitting a name that you think could work. "Agnes."

He can't shake his head fast enough. "That's my great-grandmother's name, no way."

"Eleanor." You try.

"If it's in a Beatles song, it's too old." He rules.

"Damn, I guess that takes Rigby and Pepper off the table then, too." You joke, earning a fond eye roll and chuckle from him. "And you know Hotch would say the Beatles are timeless."

Spencer laughs at that. "Yeah, the guy who named his kid after an infamous serial killer." There's silent contemplation for a moment before Spencer's next idea comes. "River." He suggests.

"We're not celebrities, we can't name our kids' random nouns." You remind him.

"Kids? Plural?" He asks curiously.

Three had been the agreed number, but he knew how hard the past three months had been on you, and he wasn't going to hold you to any idyllic promise made before you were pregnant, or parents.

"Sure, as long as this one, or naming this one, isn't too unbearable." You answer with a shrug.

"You won't be unbearable." He says, although it's not to you, you realize when his hand touches your lower stomach. "Baby...Pascal." He tries out.

"The chameleon from Tangled?" You ask, a little shocked he was coming up with such unconventional names.

He frowns back at you, not getting the pop-culture reference. "Uh, maybe? It's cute, though."

"Yeah, for a chameleon." You agree. "How about Darcy? You love Jane Austen."

"Maybe." Finally, some sense of agreement. "Jane's nice too or Attie, like Atticus but for a girl."

You frown a little at him. "I really didn't think you'd be the one with the quirky suggestions."

"Neither." He agrees. "Are we going to struggle to come to a decision on this?"

There's a little bit of concern on his face which you're quick to wipe off. "No, we'll figure it out. Just nothing too old or too weird."

"Okay, I have the perfect one." He declares a few minutes later, closing the book and putting it on the side table as a sign of his devotion to the name. "Matilda."

You wait a minute to draw out suspense. "Yes, absolutely."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb

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baldursgrave69 · 4 months

Text

A Magnificent Bastard

Summary: Agnes (the Dark Urge) draws Astarion, but he doesn't actually know what he looks like.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!durge (named)

Word count: 1K

Tags: fluff

While writing this I was listening to: High by Stephen Sanchez

Find me on Ao3 here

Agnes sat near the campfire, pen and paper in hand. Arron, the druid merchant in the grove, had sold her a journal and some ink that day. The half elf had next to no memories before the nautiloid, but she had an itch to draw. She wanted to know if she was any good. Now she needed to decide what to draw. Agnes surveyed camp, eyes landing on Karlach who was rough-housing with Scratch. She doodled them to warm up, surprised that it actually came out decently. She looked around camp, trying to find someone else to sketch. Gale was peeling potatoes near his tent, Laezel sharpened her sword on her grinding stone, and Shadowheart knelt by her tent in prayer. Agnes trailed her eyes over to Astarion, who was standing at his tent, rifling through a book. She observed him, his white curls sitting perfectly as always. With the light of the fire glinting off of his pale skin, she couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. His face was perfectly chiseled. He had subtle smile lines and forehead wrinkles, his eyes a beautiful deep red. Agnes turned her body slightly to face him without being too obvious, and began to sketch.

It felt almost as though her hand was moving independently from her body as she sketched his face. She paid extra detail in capturing every curve and angle of his jaw and nose, taking her time to draw his curls just right. Agnes became lost in her art as she continued to sketch the vampire spawn, drawing him from different angles, trying out different styles. She didn’t notice Karlach and Wyll silently watching her, enraptured in her art. Gale and Shadowheart abandoned their activities as well, coming over to watch Agnes draw their pale companion. The hairs on the back of the half elf’s neck stood on end, she could feel eyes on her. Agnes spun around to see her companions peering over her shoulder at her art. She instinctively covered the drawing, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t be embarrassed, soldier, you’re a pro!” Karlach cheered, clapping her hands together. Wyll and Gale nodded in agreement. Agnes blushed, holding the journal to her chest. “Thanks,” she mumbled, looking over towards Astarion who had set his book down to see why everyone had gathered around the other rogue. She averted her gaze as he walked over toward her. “What’s this then?” he asked, looking at everyone. Agnes’ other companions swiftly departed the campfire, leaving her alone with the vampire. “What was that all about?” he asked, sitting down next to her at the fire. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she lied, tucking the journal to the side. Astarion zeroed in on the journal in her hands. He smiled, holding out his hand expectantly. Agnes scoffed, turning away from him. Astarion quickly weaseled the journal out of her hand, turning it to the first page, on which he found the doodles of Scratch and Karlach. He chuckled, “Cute,” flipping the page.

On the second page Astarion saw a sketch of a man that he did not recognize. The man was quite attractive, he had full, gorgeous curls that sat perfectly atop his head and piercing eyes. She had drawn him from many angles, taking extra care to detail the smile lines on his face. “Aw, does someone have a crush?” Astarion tuts, shooting a sly smile at Agnes. Agnes' face turned red as she tried to snatch the journal away from him. “Ah ah, I’m not done,” he scolded, swiftly rising to his feet to keep the journal away from Agnes. “When would you have had time to meet someone like this? Surely, I would remember him,” Astarion asked, genuinely curious. Agnes had no recollection of her past, so it probably wasn’t an ex-lover, and he would’ve remembered if they met someone like this on their journey. As Agnes watched Astarion studying the drawings, realizing that Astarion didn’t know what he looked like. He didn’t realize that the drawing was one of him. She smiled to herself, looking over at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” she smirked, leaning back. Astarion continued to look over the sketch, trying to place the man in the drawings.

She must really like this person, he thought, inspecting the care and detail that went into the drawing. He hated that it made him a little jealous. He enjoyed their flirtatious banter, even if it was just a means to an end. He needed to keep on her good side by any means possible, they had traveled together for long enough for him to know she was not one to be messed with. Behind him, Astarion could hear Gale and Wyll snickering as they looked in his direction. Astarion turned to look at them, narrowing his gaze. Turning back towards Agnes he noticed that she had her head buried in her hands in embarrassment. Astarion looked at the drawing once more, analyzing every detail. He noticed that the man had two dots drawn on his neck. Bite marks. His eyes widened as he continued to look at the sketch, beginning to recognize his own features. She had drawn him. Astarion slowly sat down on a log next to the fire, a death grip on the journal. He had not seen himself in 200 years. He had forgotten what he looked like.

Agnes watched the realization flood Astarion’s face, as he finally concluded that the sketch was of him. Embarrassment filled Agnes, as she buried her head in her hands again. After a moment, she looked up to see Astarion sitting with the journal gripped in his hands. He was studying every inch of the paper, a small smile crossing his face. She watched him for a moment, as he looked at himself. “I really am a magnificent bastard, aren’t I,” he finally said, looking up at Agnes. She let out a chuckle, nodding in agreement. “You can have it,” she smiled. Astarion looked up at her, his eyes rounder than normal. “Thank you,” he said quietly, running his fingers along the page.

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sebille · 8 months

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Hi griffin Hi hi hi hello hi @infamous-if

#infamous if #G Reign #Agnes tries to draw #I imagine w him being as famous as he is he'd get to do at least SOME modelling for different brands #so since i'm obsessed w vivienne westwood..............well #just ignore me ok #Also I considered colouring this but didn't for whatever reason

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it-lives-within-the-dark · 7 months

Text

Girl Talk

Sebaciel Week 2023 - Day 2 (Brighton)

"Oh, so he's your chaperone? Not anyone...special?" "I'd like him to be my chaperone. I'd have him escort me everywhere; the dance hall, the gardens, my bed..." "Agnes!" "Oh, don't pretend that you didn't notice how well fit his trousers were. I saw you staring when he turned his back." "Of course I did I'm not blind, but I wasn't going to mention it while we're still in public. Celia? Are you feeling well, you're terribly flushed..."

Edit to add: inspired by @puppyfan9000's post here

Notes about the piece under the cut:

Created using oil paints and pastels in Realistic Paint Studio

The dresses are based on real fashion plates from 1889 which can be seen here. The hairstyles and hats are just approximations of late Victorian styling, not rooted in anything specific.

This was supposed to be a 2-3 piece set/comic, but alas I ran out of time and patience. I may or may not come back and finish them at a later date when the thought of drawing Ciel's dress and hair again doesn't make me want to claw my eyes out

Ironically, the very first (and last) Kuro fanart I did was a fem!Ciel drawing back in 2009/2010. I still have it tucked away in a folder. I might add it here later for laughs.

This is actually the first time I've drawn in.....8 years? I'd always liked drawing and my senior year of college I managed to squeeze in a drawing class and a painting class, but then real life happened and no more drawing. I'd forgotten just how much I love it.

On a similar note, this is the first time I've legitimately done digital drawing. I've tried in the past but could never get over the learning curve of traditional art to digital art. The program that I used has a UI based on traditional art and that's been extremely helpful.

#sebacielweek2023 #sebaciel week 2023 #sebaciel #black butler #kuroshitsuji #my art #art in the dark

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islandtarochips · 20 days

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🌸 Tell me about your OC(s) - with pictures if you want !Pick some facts you want to share about them & let us gush about them together! Then send to other creators to do the same ✨

I think I’ve done this before. But eh. Wouldn’t mind doing it again! I’ll just give out 5 or less/more facts about each of my OCs! Even my BOCW OC too!

I’ll start off with Tiala Toa!

Secretly have some shark plushies in her barrack. Got it from her little brothers and mostly from Kanoa. Knowing how much she loves them.

Tiala had never dated another guy after what happened to her Ex in High School. For she doesn’t want to feel humiliated again.

She’s the more protective one than her brothers. Even mostly to her little ones. (She only accepted Sami’s Wife. She’s nice.)

She did most of the house/yard work while her little brothers are having a Princess Treatment (that’s how it is here in Samoa/American Samoa) but she doesn’t mind (not to her mom-).

Have her mother’s look and strength from her father.

Kanoa Toa:

Out of ALL of his siblings. He’s the only one who knows how to braid or fix hairs. Very nice style though. His mom and his cousins taught him that.

Single. He’s been single ever since he was BORN. He has his charms but no luck in having a girlfriend. Even during high school no girls wanted him.

It’s funny that he got his Uncle’s (his dad’s brother) funny side. NONE of his parents are funny. So I guessed he would hang out with him most of the time.

Agnes Falagi:

She loves to draw. It’s like a hobby of hers. So she usually keeps a notebook in her pockets in case she gets bored during a mission.

She has photos of her mom and aunty on her phone. And would NEVER delete them no matter how full her phone storage was.

She used to have a pet kitten but it got lost. Never seen them again.

Agnes may have gone to jail ONCE for making illegal fireworks during 4th of July.

Nigel Harrison:

Pranking on everyone most of the time except Tiala. Tried many times but yet she somehow got away with it…

Always facetime to see his little sister after every mission and would smile to see her drawings of him.

Always scared of Price and his boys whenever he meets up with them. Because of his….AHEM. Past work. (Someone help this man. He’s being anxious-)

He mostly got his mother’s attitude of being pissed off with someone.

Him and Soap used to be friends when they first met at Las Almas. But he doesn’t know if they are right now…

Aelan Kalani:

Tiala is her favorite. For she hardly came over to her lab from being injured. She’s annoyed to see Kanoa, Agnes and Nigel for being reckless most of the time. That’s why she put Tiala in her favorite list.

Usually hides in her office to finish her work. But her mom always found her and scolded her for not resting.

She used to punch a Colonel in the face for threatening one of her patients who came in FIRST. (Her mom was proud though)

Always gets a photo by her little cousin to show about her Uncle and Aunty. She truly misses them.

REALLY ignored her grandparents call since they just met her a year ago and found out about her mom. (Asking for money perhaps…)

Alana Kalani:

Has a wine bottle hiding in her drawer for emergency (Mental emergency)

Kept a photo of the WTF team.

Got a mug that says “Best General Mom in the World”. A gift from the WTF.

Actually knows why people kept calling her MILF and Mommy (Agnes and Nigel explained that-)

Usually sends money to her little niece everyday just to spoil her.

Koa (BOCW OC):

Before becoming an asshole. He usually dresses up and has tea parties with his daughter when she’s little.

Actually kept a small photo of her daughter when she’s a baby to remind him of how much he wishes to turn back time.

Whenever he can’t sleep because of the nightmares he has about losing his daughter. He usually trains until he’s tired again.

Koa usually sees his sergeant as his son. He reminded him of his own son as well.

Would tease Adler about his soft side with his kids (Aleks sends some pics about it) but not in public though. For he respected Adler’s personal life.

Ok! There you have it! Thanks for the ask though!

And also, Aleks belongs to @alypink for the BOCW Universe!

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lil-demi-boy · 3 months

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OMG your mw sketches are so good! especially beebs love shrike jojo pose and i would love to hear your theories : 3

Aaaa thank you!! I love drawing them both a whole lot, but I definitely need to draw more Beebs <3

But yeah as for theories, they'll be under the cut Big shout out to my friend CL for helping me like, break the show down and get ideas going and thinking of a few of these first

(Also heads up, I just finished typing out Shrike's theories and it's long as hell so big read ahead)

Okay so some Shrike thoughts

He's canonically the last of his species, but he doesn't seem too torn up about it like Beebs seems to be about his own past, so is he just really good at hiding that pain or does he genuinely have no regrets?

If he is hiding his pain, the Terran obsession could be his coping mechanism, he hides in El Bandito cartoons so he doesn't have to face the truth that once he's gone, his whole species is

On the flipside, in the show, he seems to sleep just fine, dreams about normal things, never seems to have anything bothering him consciously or subconsciously, so I actually think he's genuinely fine over being the last of his species

I'll get back to that in a minute though, for now I'd like to look at his style: we know he wears a suit he got from being a member of LAW, and his guns match his suit/shoes, so I imagine he got the guns with the suit and was trained by LAW how to use them

He also claims "this is all I know!" when Beebs tells him to stop shooting in ep 3 so it's not hard to imagine he went straight from knowing little about fighting into LAW (unlike Beebs, who I'll get to)

With his LAW history in mind and seeming lack of care about the eradication of his species, it makes me wonder if the two could be connected

There's the Hunted theory, the Superman theory, and the Bad Alien theory, two of which involve the storage crystal in the back of his head

Said crystal appears to be very important; it's limited, but it is hammer space, it could have a ton of practical uses, and would likely be something that bad people wanna get ahold of, plus in ep 2 (which is HEAVY with foreshadowing, even with stuff that happens in the episode itself) they point out Shrike's crystal several times, calling him the Mother Crystal, showing Beebs looking between Punti's crystal and Shrike's, even Dr. Agnes tried to pull it out of his head at one point, so I'm thinking someone's gonna want it

In comes the Hunted theory: Shrike's species is born with these crystals, or they're at least given at birth/a young age (with Shrike saying he's had his since forever in ep 2), but since they're so useful, other aliens started hunting his species down to kill them and take the crystals. Shrike was taken on to LAW bc he was one of the last few of his kind n they wanna keep an eye on them

Literally as I was typing I thought of another theory, the Foreshadowing theory: The way Shrike talks about what happened to him (LAW setting him up with a dumb job after) makes me think it was actually more like a mass extinction, much like how Punti is the last of his kind after a mass extinction, one that LAW showed up afterwards to find and take the last one into custody, though in this theory, I think Shrike's crystal and the multiple comparisons between Shrike and Punti may point to Shrike being the only one of his kind with that crystal in his head

Which is also the case in the Superman Theory, where his family knew they were all gonna die, so they put Shrike in a pod (either being born with or given the crystal) and sent him off to protect him as they all die (which yeah isn't original but come on, baby Shrike)

Finally there's my favorite theory (NOT the one I believe in the most, just the one I think is the most fun to write for), the Bad Alien theory: why would Shrike be so carefree about his whole species being dead? Well what if they were actually a horrible species, like the Krill in Orville? They're blood-thirsty conquerors responsible for wiping out plenty of other species, and something about Shrike (maybe the crystal?) made him different and decide this wasn't okay, so he finds a way to work for LAW and be their spy on the inside, helping his species get captured and killed as punishment for all the pain and destruction they've caused while Shrike gets a job for helping them out so he can stay on his feet

Also not a theory or anything, I just love the detail that Shrike's chair in the Bucket has a spot on the headrest that's been scratched out by Shrike's gem, idk how they thought of that but that's so smart

Anyway that's enough about Shrike, let's get on to Beebs

Beebs oh man, sweetie, my baby boy, he has got to have a sad fuckin backstory. He's missing 3 of his 4 limbs, he implies he's lost at least one loved one, he's just so iudhfishuis I love him

Anyway, in episode 3 when he's talking to Us, he mentions he's been through losing someone "once or twice", which to me points to the possibility that he lost his partner or his family, but tbh I think he lost his wife (or whatever gender partner you prefer to think of him with) and child

He's very fatherly, taking the lead and being gentle and patient and understanding, plus in ep 2 when the Lythop that went in Shrike's head was crying, Beebs was already bent on a knee and ready to hold the lil guy like a dad comforting his crying kid, and in ep 3 he sits in with Shrike and lets him talk about El Bandito like a kid showing off their favorite cartoon to their dad (plus it makes him a dilf)

There's also another character we've seen in promo art, Champion Ajax, who looks like a Walrinian like Beebs is, and his name being Champion Ajax (among other things I'll get to) gives me the impression that maybe this species is battle-heavy and loves to throw down

They're physically imposing and tall, plus Beebs is shown to be a skilled fighter with both his close range hammer and long range grenades; I wouldn't be surprised if he could use every weapon in his light stick thing tbh

With champions and a proficiency in mixed weapons, what if Beebs' species takes part in gladiator type sports? Fighting each other for the fun and glory with the biggest and strongest of them all being the champion

If this is the case, I do think Beebs might've been a champ at one point, but he finally lost or quit

I don't have fancy names for these theories, n they're more like thoughts anyway but like

It's possible he lost his limbs during his run as Champion and that led him to quit (he didn't seem interested in getting any more parts of him made mechanical, as evidenced by his response to Shrike telling him to get an internal translator)

But the way sadder option is that whatever took his limbs is also what took his family, like some kind of explosion or something, or even worse, something that he did caused it

If you'll notice, sometimes when he opens his mouth wide, you can see two weird, round "teeth" in the corners of his mouth, which come to find out are actually where his tusks should be (side note: BLESS the artist who drew him with his tusks that one time, I love it)

So why doesn't he have his tusks? Were they cut off because he quit being Champion? Maybe he was blamed for the death of his family n cutting off tusks is a sign of shame/exile

Him being exiled may count for why he's in Monkey Wrench right now, like in ep 3 he clearly wasn't sure he was cut out for merc work so I highly doubt this was his idea, he likely needed a job to keep himself afloat, and here came Shrike

On that note, I wonder about Shrike and Beebs' relationship, cause when talking to Us, Beebs said that Shrike is his friend "or something"; have they just not known each other long enough to really call each other friends, or does Shrike just annoy him n that was a joke? How long have they known each other? Maybe they met through LAW at some point?

That's about all I got, but yeee thank you for asking, and apologies if it's a lil too long

#ask #monkey wrench #shrike sanchez #bulldog browns #zeurel

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