#probably in private

[canisalbus]

You mentioned before that the people who would have access to Machete's bedchamber would likely already know about Vasco. How did that come up in your mind? Did they get caught in the act or was the subject broached with enough trust? How did those people handle it? Sorry if this is a bit vague but I thought about it today and I'm very interested. :)

I think it just has to be the case, I can't imagine how they could manage to hide the fact Vasco is bunking with him from everyone, for years and years. Machete doesn't live alone, he has staff and servants who do his housekeeping and run his errands. Even if Vasco didn't stay there for any extended periods of time and snuck out the back door to avoid attention, I'm assuming at least the people who do his laundry and change his sheets would eventually detect that some sort of funny business had happened. But the number of people who are in on it is still very very small and tightly controlled. His assistant Vittorio definitely knows and helps to manage this situation, so does his personal doctor, and on top of that maybe a handful of most trusted high-ranking emplyees, which he has vetted extremely carefully and pays handsomely for their discreetness and prudence.

[ilovethewaleses]

Not to completely spiral on my blog that has absolutely nothing to do with a Jonas brother about a man I had an entirely neutral opinion about until 2 days ago but this whole thing is making me crazyyyyy I can't stand it. Two days of press about how Sophie is a bad mother and a party girl -- things his kids will read about some day -- and now this??

Sophie has literally dedicated her entire existence as a mother to keeping those girls out of the spotlight. She's complained to the press multiple times. When the first pap pics of Willa came out when she was a baby, she was on the verge of tears talking about how it's disgusting that paps follow children around and that the kids never asked for this life. She accidentally posted a picture of Willa a few months ago and begged people who had the picture or took screenshots to delete them. I always figured that as someone who had a really rough time of it growing up in the spotlight (she's talked extensively about her mental health issues, getting bullied because of a character she played and her weight, and eating disorders), she wanted her girls to be totally protected from that and as far from the spotlight as possible.

I've seen like 1 picture of Willa's face. There's barely *any* paparazzi shots of them. She obviously called to take down the Page 6 post of Willa when Meghan and Harry did not a day later with Archie. We don't even know the name of their second daughter. And now he goes out... to a table outside... with both girls.... facing the street... for PR. Or just to be a dick. I feel so terrible for Sophie I don't even know what to say.

[tricoufamily]

if you're wondering why bob is here it's bc in the original villareal story there was a very minor background detail that diego lobo and bob pancakes dated in college and broke up tragically and that's where the story peaked. so i included him it's still canon

thank you for these it was so fun!!!!!!!!!!!!

i did these in my this is the fall sim style so i'm thinking. if they exist in this universe what's all their opinions on the 'did jacques do it' situation. let's take a look

don: saw a photo of jacques's wife on the news during the investigation. said "whoa mama that's a hot babe!" like johnny bravo and did not read the headline. does not know anything about it still.

vlad: well he's psychic he could figure out the truth if he actually cared. and he has!

olive: obviously respects it. except for the getting investigated part, would never happen to her.

diego: does not think jacques did it but enjoys the tabloids. knows other rich people personally who he thinks have killed their spouses

morgyn: will post things like "friendly reminder that j*cques v*llareal literally killed his wife and is a billionaire so maybe don't go to one of their hotels" on tumblr and will then do a call out post about like a fanfic writer who wrote an unhealthy relationship with more severity

pascal: knows conspiracy theories and this one is bullshit. or maybe it just doesn't interest him as much as aliens and that's why he thinks that

jeb: has a very "well of course he did. them rich folk can do whatever they want. there ain't no hope for the rest of us" while kicking a can down the road approach

bob: thinks he did it. is very alarmed that it was brushed off. eliza's like bob book the hotel and he's like am i going crazy. does anyone hear me.

[realpokemon]

You must get a lot of asks, how do you decide which ones to answer?

‎

[jvzebel-x]

here's an update for all the "tOuRiSm iS fOr ThE pEoPlE" fucks. always remember that the second anyone steps foot on that land in the name of "tourism" or any other haole institution, that is colonizing&that person is a fucking explicit modern colonizer who made the conscious decision to be one and has spent a lot of fucking money on that trip to get their title. only that kine want more of their kin there-- don't pretend that shit is for anyone else.

drop dead of spontaneous combustion specifically, not even the sharks would want that pīlau fucking meat.

[lunarharp]

scribbles... pre-relationship onsen trip

[d4jamso]

HEAR ME OUT.

We've seen byler royal au, we've seen byler fantasy au, we've seen byler modern au...

But have we seen byler pirate au...🤨

*scuttles away to ibis paint*

[marblerose-rue]

click for better quality!

are you gonna start climbing, or what? / needletail

[anghraine]

It's kind of fascinating to me that towards the end of P&P, Elizabeth has become protective of Darcy and either a) actively tries to insulate him from Situations or b) wishes that she could and gets stressed that she can't.

Darcy deeply loves her and is very ready to do whatever he can to secure her happiness, but narratively, I think the emphasis at the end is very much more on Elizabeth's protectiveness towards him.

It's like:

When Bingley and Darcy first come back to Hertfordshire, Darcy is very quiet and Elizabeth can barely bring herself to say anything—until Mrs Bennet insults Darcy. Then Elizabeth speaks up.

Mrs Bennet enlists Elizabeth to separate Darcy from Bingley with another insult to Darcy. Elizabeth finds this both convenient and enraging.

That day, Elizabeth decides to privately tell Mrs Bennet about her engagement to Darcy, specifically so that Darcy will be spared Mrs Bennet's first unfiltered response.

Elizabeth fiercely defends Darcy's character and love for her, as well as hers for him, to Mr Bennet. She not only says she loves Darcy but that it upsets her to hear Mr Bennet's criticisms of him.

Elizabeth is both relieved by Mrs Bennet's ecstatic reception of the engagement and a bit disappointed by how completely shallow she's being about it, and 100% sure she made the right call in keeping Darcy away.

Elizabeth defends Darcy against Darcy himself, repeatedly.

There's a period where Elizabeth seems to unwind and laugh, but this passes, especially after Charlotte and Mr Collins show up. Darcy manages to stay calm around Mr Collins (I think this is framed as a significant and admirable achievement for him), but Elizabeth does not like him being in a situation where he has to deal with Mr Collins in the first place.

Elizabeth tries to shield Darcy from being noticed by Mrs Phillips and Mrs Bennet, who do seem to make him pretty excruciatingly uncomfortable.

Ultimately, Elizabeth ends up trying to keep Darcy to herself or to shepherd him around to relatives he can handle more easily, and is so stressed at this point that she just wants to get married and escape to Pemberley.

After their marriage, things are actually great at Pemberley and in their married life, despite the occasional complication.

Lydia writes a congratulatory letter to Elizabeth, asking for Darcy to get Wickham a promotion unless Elizabeth would rather not bring it up with him. Elizabeth really does not want Darcy to have to deal with this and handles it by privately setting aside a Lydia fund out of her personal expenses. (IIRC, it's not clear if Darcy even knows about this.)

Elizabeth also is the driving force behind Darcy's reconciliation with Lady Catherine.

This could read as an unsettling, unbalanced dynamic and a very odd ending point for the arc of a woman like Elizabeth, but in the context of the overall novel, it doesn't feel that way. Or maybe I'd see it more that way if I interpreted Darcy (and for that matter, Elizabeth) + their arcs differently? But as it is, I do think that by this point in the story they are genuinely doing the best they can, independently and for each other, and they've both come a long way. They shine in different contexts and support each other as much as they can in the circumstances that do arise.

It seems very them, in terms of their temperament and abilities, that Elizabeth would put all this effort into shielding Darcy, while at the same time, Darcy completely cuts off Lady Catherine for insulting Elizabeth and only ever speaks to her again because Elizabeth wants him to.

[mylifeingotham]

[pangur-and-grim]

I’ve been trying to write an alternate first chapter to the book, and think I finally have it! it’s silly and cliched, but fun I think, and accurately sets it up to be a world of overpowered idiots.

Forty years prior

The next man to see the king had a pinched, weaselly face, and a fashion sense that bordered on sacrilege. He wore a black robe that blended with his dark, limp hair, giving the impression of a cowl. Perhaps in a purposeful perversion of an Elder’s white gown - the king glanced at the visiting church representative seated to his right, curious to see her reaction. The Elder, however, had herself fully occupied with a drinks order. A stooge hovered, bent nearly in two to better hear the woman, peppering every pause she left with compliments as to her taste.

“I am the Sorcerer Mer–“ began the man, his voice raised imperiously over the muttered conversations of other merchants, farmers, and freshly washed peasantry that waited to be seen behind him.

“Hang on,” said the king, raising a hand heavy with rings. “Elder Beth, do you have any thoughts on his robe?”

She looked annoyed to be interrupted, even by a king. This emotion quickly redirected on the unfortunate man. “The shade is unpleasant. What does black symbolize, death and wickedness? And in that cut - does he pretend to be a monk?”

The man treated the woman to a look of undisguised hatred. Though tall and lanky, he stood some feet beneath them, the king and his guest being seated on a raised platform to keep them clear of the masses. “I don’t pretend to be anything. I am the sorcerer Merulo, and I have come to announce my intentions!”

At the sharpness of his proclamation, almost a shout, a hush fell over those nearest to them. Everyone listening mutually understood that this would likely end in jailing or execution, leaving them with (if not their wishes granted) at least a front seat to the freshest gossip material.

The king thumped his goblet meaningfully, and the knights guarding the platform ceased their yawning and scratching of armoured asses to advance on the man.

“What are your intentions, young man?” Elder Beth spoke with a laziness that betrayed her presumption of control. Her voice rang clear as a bell across the crowded throne room.

“I will, eugh,” the man’s voice broke, and he cleared his throat urgently, blinking. His eyes matched his attire, chips of flint in a ghoulishly pale face. “I will kill your God,” he continued, clearly trying to match the Elder’s volume and charisma, “and destroy this world’s magic!”

Laughter came from the crowd, some of it nervous and some genuine. The king himself hid a smirk behind a broad hand.

“Now, most people come to speak to me about property lines, or to complain about conning merchants. He’s obviously insane,” this last comment made to the Elder, who had leant so far forward in her seat that it threatened to topple. She looked like a dog pulling at an invisible chain, eager to render. “Shall we take pity on his lack of faculties?” The king already knew the answer.

“Doing so would be an insult to Order itself,” she growled, then louder: “God is everlasting. We shall give you ample leisure to reconnect with Him through prayer and reshape yourself into piety. Escort this man to a holding chamber.”

The king bristled at having his men ordered, but this was the way of the church. To contest the will of its representative would be akin to blasphemy. He swung his attention back to the supplicant with a sigh, only to choke in surprise. Glowering up at them without fear, the man had his thin lips pulled back in a flash of teeth. Of course, the poor idiot lacked all sense. Still….

“He did claim to be a sorcerer,” said the king, glancing sideways at the Elder and fingering an emerald in his ring.  

Before a response could be given, several figures stepped out of the crowd, their motions stuttery and faces blank. The knights paused, clearly having readied themselves for a day of sweating monotony, but the figures showed no such hesitance. Accelerating into a run, they met the knights with fingers that looked less like fingers by the second, and mouths that split into splinter-lined cavities. All illusion vanished, then, with the creatures thrashing at the deeply surprised knights revealing themselves to be twisted and sickly trees, given a freakish semblance of life.

The Elder rose so fast she stumbled, whipping out an elegantly gilded wand of carved ivory. She spat an incantation, aiming at the sorcerer, and gleaming ice swords condensed from clouds of sucked moisture, leaving the air dry and staticky. They encircled the black-robed man, stabbing inward - only to shatter into a cloud of refracting droplets, at a single barked word.

“Damn,” said the king, sitting back, “he’s good, huh?”

The sorcerer’s next word sent the Elder sailing backward in a billow of white cloth, like a giant swatted dove, to crash against a tapestry-draped wall. The king winced in sympathy, but made no move to assist.

“You understand then?” shouted the sorcerer, panting not from exertion, but from what seemed to be anxiety, “I’ll kill God, destroy the magic, yes? I anticipate a timeline of –“ He ducked a thrown dagger, one of his wooden servants dashing to maim the source, “Five years, give or take, so if any changes in infrastructure are required – Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

A particularly burly knight had broken through the wooden monsters, with great rending sweeps of his broad axe. He roared, lunging at the sorcerer, who gestured hastily, flicking pale fingers. Immediately, the knight collapsed in a clinking heap, where he remained motionless.

Throughout this, the crowd screamed, trampling each other in their rush to escape through the great double-doors, and forcing the sorcerer to shout at an ever-higher pitch to be heard.

“Look, you’ve been warned, yes? This is a warning? I have 23 more stops to make, and can only hope that other rulers treat me with more grace. Goodbye, King … er.”

They realized it simultaneously: the sorcerer had forgotten the king’s name. A moment of awkward eye contact followed, which the sorcerer broke first with a grimace. Looking rather slumped and defeated, the man hummed a portal into existence, an unfurling hole in reality that he stormed into with an imperious flap of his robe. What wooden servants remained followed him through, crawling and leaping, the portal folding shut behind them like the closing petals of a flower.

“Well,” said the king, taking a sip of his wine. Then again: “Well.”

Bodies jammed the double doorway. Despite this, the crowd maintained their pushing and shouting, worsening the clog. Throughout the room, a scattering of trampled citizens lay dead or unconscious, along with a number of prone knights. Blood speckled the tiled floor and smeared the tapestry where the Elder had slid down it. The king took another deep drought of his goblet.

“He’s definitely mad,” he murmured, pulling thoughtfully at his beard, “but good show, nonetheless.”

[canisalbus]

About the accents: if someone has a very "proper" Italian they are either foreigners or politicians/dignitaries/etc. So that fits perfectly for Machete, but I think it would be so funny if he sometimes slipped up and used a Nepalese word bc he forgot one in "proper" Italian lol

(Funny to me cause Naples has its own language in addition to accent, and most people don't actually know those words)

.

[marvel-lous-guy]

Tony: do you seriously think that's gonna work?

Peter: yeah! Why wouldn't it?

Tony: Because that is a toaster!

Harley: a high pressure toaster!

Tony: its still not gonna work! A toaster cant push bread out at a great anough force to make an ironman suit fly!

Peter: its not gonna make an ironman suit fly!

Harley: Its gonna make an ironpan suit fly!

Peter: It's made of frying pans!

Tony: Oh my God you're gonna die. You're both gonna die the day you move out.

[ungodlylaw]

[WIP] not posting on main for reasons but, im doing a leyendecker study with kenstewy....i'm still learning how to draw em.....+ another wip of stewy and his hairy chest that i've had for uhhh like two months

[angelic37]

DIMENSION HOPPING | Right universe, wrong Doctor