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wolfstarhaven · 6 months ago

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Hi!!!!!!! Long time lurker first time asker here—do you have any interesting fics that take place in the summer? I feel like I've been losing myself in nostalgia for being a teenager since it started getting hot by me and I'd love to read a fic that compliments that feeling well!

Hi🌸 You read my mind, long time lurker — I’ve been thinking of putting together a proper summery-nostalgic list for some time now. Your request finally made me do it(: So here you go! My favourite summer wolfstar fics, all of them with that sweet, soft nostalgic touch☀️

the summer you let your hair grow out

by ladymemebeth (20k)

in which sirius decides to go to remus' house when he runs away, rather than james'. remus finds this situation to be trying in more ways than one. includes gratuitous references to twentieth-century cinema and music.

Themes: summer at remus’; pov!remus; disowned Sirius; pining; friends to lovers; first time.

*wonders bright

by unwholesome_gay (5k)

Sirius spends a few weeks at the Lupins' place during the summer after sixth year.

Themes: summer at remus’; pov!sirius; friends to lovers; fluff; first kiss.

*the apple caught between your teeth

by drowsyanddazed (13k)

The warm, July sun is unadulterated in its naked heat; blisteringly sweet and unbearingly heavy. It makes Sirius’ shirt cling to his chest, turns his bones lazy, and it colours Remus’ cheeks with a dusting of honey freckles.

So many freckles.

So many that Sirius wonders where they all hide in the frosty, winter months.

Themes: summer at remus’; disowned sirius; pov!sirius; friends to lovers; coming out; pining; so well-written I could cry.

*June, and Other Natural Disasters

by montparnasse (5k)

Sirius talks, begs, and bribes Remus into a spontaneous trip to Brighton the summer of their graduation. Remus loses all sense of direction; Sirius loses his shirt; Remus kisses the last moth-eaten vestiges of his sanity a long, sloppy goodbye.

Themes: summer trip; pov!remus; pining remus; friends to lovers; sexual tension and smut; poetic prose.

*Everything Under The Sun

by moongnome (26k)

The summer of '76. Remus wants Sirius. Sirius doesn't know what he wants.

Themes: slow burn; friends to lovers; shit communication; friends with benefits sort of; pov!remus; pining remus; this is technically unfinished but it can be read as finished!; I love this so much it’s crazy.

*A Brief History of Dragons

by eyra (23k)

Sirius moves to Cornwall for the summer and meets a rude, beautiful boy who is writing a book that may or may not be about dragons.

Themes: muggle!au; writer!remus; pov!sirius; strangers to lovers; Arthurian legend; everybody and their mother has read and loved this; but it’s very summery so it’s gotta be here!!

tomorrow, when the world is free

by turntechnodhead (2k)

Sirius, in a tour-guide voice: “The White Cliffs of Dover, part of the North Downs formation, is the region of English coastline facing the Strait of Dover and France. The cliff face, which reaches a height of 110 metres, owes its striking appearance to the composition of chalk accented by streaks of black flint-”

“Padfoot, mate, you never told us you could read,” says James. Sirius whacks the back of his head with the guidebook.

Themes: road trip; pov!remus; pining remus; fluff; pre-slash.

Camping, Comfort, and Clichés

by oliverdalstonbrowning (5k)

Remus goes on a camping trip with his friends, and discovers all the comfort and clichés that go with it.

Themes: camping; post-Hogwarts; sharing a bed; pov!remus; friends to lovers; jealous remus; fluff.

*Hard To Find

by accioromulus (13k)

The air conditioning is already broken, Sirius's back has been effectively glued to the leather seat via sweat, and this road-trip may have been a Very Bad Idea.

Themes: road trip; muggle!au; pov!sirius; pining; so so soft and summery; friends to lovers.

Out There

by halictus (21k)

Sirius has to go backpacking to fulfill a college graduation requirement. He is comfortable in his own skin, he has friends, he has passions. But he's still learning how to fit himself into loosely-defined spaces. Remus is a graduate student leading the trip. He loves nature, and backpacking, and being outside, and smiling, and having lots of energy. They both have some learning to do—not necessarily tactfully.

Themes: muggle!au; backpacking; nature; strangers to lovers; good discussion on privilege!

one for the road

by rojohbi (4k)

Piling into the car was uncomfortable and cramped, but there was something oddly satisfying about sitting on ratty blankets in the backseat, a box of fresh comfort food at his feet and Sirius’ legs splayed over his lap as the other backseat-inhabitant nestled himself into the corner and almost immediately began snoring. James met his eyes through the rearview, and this time when he saw the knowing smile, Remus smiled right back.

Themes: road trip; pov!remus; pining remus; self-esteem issues (remus); accidental confession; genderfluid sirius.

the private kind of purple

by greenscape (6k)

Post-grad summer. They are reaching for things they cannot name.

Or, it's four days out of Hogwarts and Sirius and Remus go wild camping in Scotland.

Themes: camping; light angst; soft and well-written af; friends to lovers.

*Beneath a Big Blue Sky

by eyra (68k)

Sirius and James accidentally find themselves on a Yorkshire farm during lambing season. The farmer’s son thinks that’s a bit annoying, actually.

Themes: muggle!au; sheep farm; pov!sirius; this is a must-read for everyone.

*Light in August

by orestesfasting (21k)

Summer, 1977. With the full moon approaching, Sirius heads up to the Lupins' countryside cottage to make himself useful. Or to make a complete and utter arse out of himself, because really, that's all he can seem to do around Remus these days.

Themes: THE summer wolfstar fic; summer at remus’; friends to lovers; pov!sirius; pining; sharing a bed; beautifully written it’s actually insane.

honey, i belong with you, only you.

by jeonism (4k)

remus was all honey brown hair and eyes that glittered golden in the sun, with a peachy flush across his freckles and legs that seemed to stretch for miles. sirius was screwed.

Themes: summer at remus’; pov!sirius; pining sirius; friends to lovers; lots of kissing; fluff.

*Our Blood, Still Young

by templeg (15k)

It's nearly the last day of fifth year, and Sirius really isn't looking forward to the summer.

Themes; friends to lovers; funny; pov!sirius; smut; awkwardness and fluff; it’s summer for most of it; a classic.

*Another Bright Day

by rilla (20k)

It's 1978 and the Marauders have just left school. James has fallen for Lily, Sirius is smarting about it, and Remus has complicated feelings of his own that he needs to work out during the last summer before they all have to find their way into the real world.

Themes: post-hogwarts; first war; holiday by the sea; pov!remus; pining remus; beautiful prose!!

Fearless Liabilities

by femme_de_lettres (200k)

Summer camp. Six weeks of planning activities, leading campers, and getting up to no good. It's no different than the last decade that Remus and his friends have spent in rural Wisconsin. Except Remus' heart keeps trying to tell him that he's in love with his best friend, Sirius can't believe he's fallen for the one person who he knows is unequivocally straight, James is starting to lose faith that Lily will ever actually consider going on a date with him, and Peter? Peter's just trying to keep his friends from getting in over their heads.

Themes: muggle!au; summer camp; long boy; American au; homophobia; panic attacks; fluff.

Heat

by LadyAmina (2k)

The summer air is too warm. The campfire isn't helping. Neither is Sirius's head in his lap. Neither is the burning blood in his veins. Remus is overwhelmed and something has to give.

Themes: camping; pov!remus; remus is jealous and very emotional about it poor baby; fluff.

blue, orange

by Avvu (5k)

It's the first summer after Hogwarts, and they have nothing else to talk about than Peter's dead father. / There are blue and orange postcards on the fridge door, and behind them, there are words Sirius knows by heart.

Themes: angst; first war era; canon compliant; the ending is sort of happy but also not that happy because you know what happens later yk.

Ocean Above & Sky Below

by grandilloquism (8k)

Sirius, adrift and floundering at the advanced age of 23, rents out a mansion by the sea— as you do— in an effort to recapture his happiness. It works surprisingly well.

Themes: post-Hogwarts; no war; pov!sirius; growing up; friends to lovers.

I'm Glad I'm Your Favourite

by aftgray (10k)

just a wolfstar get-together oneshot that takes place in the summer of 1976 (between the Marauders' fifth and sixth year)

Themes: post The Prank; disowned sirius; sharing a bed; fluff.

Motion Sickness

by oscarwildechilde (46k)

The Lupins are moving again, and Remus is determined to be miserable following his disastrous fifth year and the fallout of Sirius' prank. Not speaking to any of his friends, he's resigned to go at it alone. That is, of course, until he finds out that he's moved to the same town as Lily Evans.

Themes: post The Prank; centred on the lupin family; Lily-Remus friendship; disowned sirius; friends to lovers; fluff.

Reeled

by lunchbucket (5k)

Remus decides to finally spend a summer day with his childhood best friend, Sirius, after not seeing him for three years. But when old feelings quickly start to resurface, Remus is left feeling like no time has passed at all.

Themes: childhood friends reunited; pov!remus; pining remus; fluff.

(* = personal favourite)

I hope you’re all having a lovely summer so far🌸

xx Elliot

#wolfstar #wolfstar rec #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar fics #summer

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hoshologies · 2 years ago

Text

⌗ nct dream as romance tropes

syn. exactly what it says on the tin. the dreamies as different romance tropes, some common, some not.

pairing. nct dream/gn reader.

gen, tropes, & rating. romance. college, missed connections, faking dating, strangers to lovers, matchmaking, friends to lovers, one sided pining. 16+.

warnings. (potentially) underage drinking, profanity.

word count. 3.6k (approx. 450-550 words per member).

mark lee is the boy you spend spring break with. you’d managed to get on a study abroad trip to europe for the vacation, but as the only person from your friend group going, you’d worried about spending the week and a half alone. thank god, then, that mark is also the only one from his friend group going.

you connect during the bi-weekly class sessions leading up to your departure, sitting alone near the back of the small lecture hall. you chat before the faculty leader starts speaking and you giggle amongst yourselves when you have to step into the hallway to practice getting on and off the subway, your arms linked so you don’t get “left behind.” when you both decide to take the charter bus to the airport, mark is the one who packs his suitcase early and heads to your apartment to help you stay awake and do last minute cleaning before he drives you both to the meeting point. you sleep on his shoulder the entire bus ride, in the seats at your gate, you even manage to have seats next to each other on your overnight flight and you fall asleep watching a movie together and sharing your blanket.

spring break is full of the two of you wandering rome together, sharing cups piled high with gelato at the piazza navona, and navigating the parisian subway from the city center to the catacombs. he takes pictures of you on his film camera in st. peter’s basilica; you sneak a selfie together with the ceiling of the sistine chapel, your faces cut off halfway. you climb the bell tower of the duomo in florence, laughing breathlessly when you make it to the top, and you walk the gardens of the palace of versailles together, shoulders brushing as you take in the scenery and chill air of a mid-march morning. on your final night, you watch the eiffel tower glitter from montparnasse and you swear mark looks like he wants to kiss you; you want him to.

but then the trip is over and you go back home. you share seats on the charter bus again and you fall asleep on his shoulder again. he takes you back to your apartment, walks you to your door all bleary eyed and sleepy. you’re worried that this is the last time you’ll see him as you stand at your window and watch him get into his car and drive off. looking at the picture a stranger took of you and mark on the ponte vecchio, his arm around your shoulders and his gaze fixed on you rather than the camera, you realize you cannot let this be the end.

huang renjun is a missed connection. he’s the boy you see all over town, but never work up the courage to introduce yourself to. he’s tall and lanky, always dressed so nice and looking so out of place among everyone else. he’s got soft features, all gentle edges and round, sad eyes. you always find yourself wanting to wrap him up in your arms, fantasizing what his body slotted against yours would feel like. is he warm, soft as he looks?

you see him at your favorite cafe, keeping to himself while he studies and drinks his coffee and picks at his french toast crepe. you spot him on campus, backpack slung over his shoulder on his way to class or laying out on the greens and reading a book. some days, you’re lucky enough to catch the same subway car as him, earbuds in and his eyes trained on the horizon through the window. sometimes, you even end up in the same aisle as him at the convenience store down the street from your apartment. you stand opposite each other, considering your different choices of ramen.

still, with all your instances of seeing him, you’ve never scrounged together the courage you feel you need to talk to him for the first time. even if you could, one glimpse of that lopsided grin of his would have you crumbling anyways, a weakness before you even get the chance to ask for his name. so you resign yourself to only admire him from afar and he, completely unknown to him, will forever be known as the “cute cafe boy” amongst your friend group.

you spend months like that, cherishing the glimpses you get of him. because you often exist in the same spaces with the same schedule, like the cafe on tuesday afternoons at eleven in the morning, you decide to give the barista money one day, tell them that you want to pay for his coffee when he gets here, describe him as the tall, lanky boy with the big brown eyes and gentle voice; they always know who you’re talking about. you tell them to not tell him who paid for it, just that a stranger wanted to pay forward some kindness.

when he arrives and orders, the barista relays the message and they swear up and down the wall it was a stranger, but the glance they cast over his left shoulder is telling. when he turns away, his eyes land on you, too wrapped up in your laptop to notice. but he’s too shy to say anything and so when he gets home, he writes a missed connection posting on your community’s page, the same one your friend frequents to look for free or cheap furniture.

you were at the greenhouse cafe today (tuesday) around 11:15 in the morning. i went there to study and get coffee, but the barista said someone had paid for it already. you wanted to stay a stranger, but if you’re the person i think you are, i want to thank you properly. ramen at the convenience store by our apartment buildings?

maybe your friend oughta pass this on to you.

lee jeno is a friend of a friend, who your friend manages to convince to fake date you for a couple of group outings. she drags you to so many big group events, like drinks at the favorite bar or clubbing or even group movie nights at apartments. out of a group of ten, you and jeno are the only two single ones. it can be annoying being the only singles, especially when you’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t have an issue with not seeing anyone right now; it’ll happen when it happens, you find yourself saying at least once a week, it’s just not a priority right now and i don’t mind it.

jeno faces the same line of irritating questioning, so when you’re out with your friends beom gyu and haechan (the instigators of the group), haechan suggests a scheme to get the rest of your friends off your backs. “just pretend you’re dating for a little while. act a little coupley at our hangouts and then, like… just say that you decided your lives are going in different directions, so you’ve broken up, but it’s amicable and there’s no hard feelings! simple as that.”

beomgyu cosigns almost immediately, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and it kind of scares you. the number of times this duo has instigated things, harmless as they may be, is something to be worried about. you’re a little skeptical, but when you look over at jeno, he’s looking back at you. he gives you a nonchalant shrug and an easy it would get them off our backs for a while. it’s not like we have to actually go out on dates or anything.

it’d just be acting, sure, and you’ve never particularly been into jeno, but his last sentence stings a little, somewhere deep and dark within you. regardless, you ignore the subtle hurt and you nod, mimicking his shrug. sure, why not?

the next time the whole group is together, you and jeno sit together, shoulder to shoulder. almost immediately, yeji picks up on it and nearly squeals. what is this? are you dating? when jeno confirms, the whole table starts shouting, including beomgyu and haechan, the masterminds behind this whole thing (beomgyu tells you later that it was to make it look like they were surprised too). she asks when it happened, why, how, congratulates you both on your new relationship, says it’ll be great for you guys to not be ninth and tenth wheeling on hangouts anymore.

you both go on like this for a while, showing up to the bar or the club or your favorite local diner or even hangouts at someone’s apartment and sitting together, jeno’s arm draped around you or your head on his shoulder. you show up and leave hand in hand. every once in a while, he’ll even drop kisses to your temple or hairline to really seal the deal.

but your mind can’t tell the difference between what’s real and what’s fake, and the lines start to blur. you swear you’re starting to imagine things: fond glances from him, is he holding you just a little tighter or is that a figment of your imagination, why’s he lingering at your front door after dropping you off at home? there’s no chance that’s all for show, right?

lee haechan is the neighbor of the family you’re working as an au pair for. you’re young and fresh out of college, but instead of going straight into a regular job, you decided to go abroad. you were lucky to find a great job as an au pair for a couple and their seven year old daughter; they offered room and board, a good salary, and weekends off (unless needed) in exchange for your services in taking care of their child and helping maintain the house. you confirmed almost immediately and left for their country within the week, nothing but two suitcases and a carry-on.

during your first week, you stuck mainly to your host family’s house, only really leaving to drop off or pick up the daughter from school. but when the weekend rolls around and the parents are off work, they tell you to do some exploring, giving you their personal recommendations for all kinds of stores, restaurants, and cafes. the mother ushers you goodnaturedly to the front door and tells you not to come back for at least two hours, to enjoy and get to know the area, especially if you’ll be around for as long as they need you.

so with a little bit of pocket money and your backpack, you’re left standing on the front lawn with no earthly idea where to go first. you’re just about to pull out your phone and look up the closest location they recommended when a call of hey! startles you. you nearly jump out of your skin and turn to look at the person who interrupted you. he’s decently tall and broad with honey bronze skin and a life-changing smile.

he waves you over and meet him at the edge of the front lawn, his eyes bright and airy, untouched by negativity. he introduces himself as haechan, the grandson of the woman who lives next door. he tells you that he’s going to university here in the city and lives with his grandma, which surprises you; it’s really not as bad as it could be, a twenty something year old living with his grandma, he tells you, i come home to a warm meal every night. but he shakes his head, getting himself back on track.

“anyways, my grandma mentioned something about the neighbors getting a nanny and i haven’t seen you around before, so that must be you, right?”

you nod, telling him you’re an au pair (fancy term, he interjects. cooler than nanny) from abroad and you’ve never visited this country before. he smiles, radiant and welcoming, and suggests that he give you a tour of all the best places, promising to make it worth your while. when you mention that the parents told you not to come back for at least a couple of hours, he nods dutifully and says, “i’m the best tour guide you could possibly had. we’ll be gone for four hours minimum.”

it makes you laugh, the look on his face, and infected by his sunny personality, you shrug, giving him a why not? you could do with a local guide.

“lead the way.”

na jaemin is the frat boy whose friends dare him to date you. he sees you often at the parties his frat throws, always in tow with your more outgoing, popular friends. he’s not entirely sure how you become a hot topic among his friend group (he thinks it’s because you’re so different from the rest of your group), but you do. on nights they get drunk, they often end up discussing you, how you ended up in that gang of friends when you so clearly do not fit in with them; even when you do look like you’re enjoying yourself at a party, you never quite get to the level your friends do.

one night, the discussion turns to a rumor that they heard going around about you: you’ve never had a boyfriend. his friends laugh about it, busting their sides over something so insignificant and so not their business. jaemin doesn’t find any amusement in it; if anything, he thinks it’s kind of cute, if it’s even true. the boys take notice of his silence and when seungmin casts a scheming glance around the table, jaemin feels a chill run through him.

“jaemin,” the younger boy drawls. “dare ya to date ‘em.”

jaemin immediately shakes his head. “the fuck’s wrong with you? that’s fucked up. i’m not doing that for a stupid ass dare.”

seungmin shrugs and leans back in his seat, head tilted back as he takes a drink out of his natty light. a laugh ripples across the group of boys and jaemin has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes; he’s not cruel and he’s not doing that to you, not when you’ve been nothing but sweet to him in the few conversations you’ve had. but then jeongin, the worst culprit of provoking everyone and instigating shit, says it’s because jaemin is too goody-too-shoes, too lame to do something and against his better judgment, jaemin jumps in, heat creeping under his skin, scorching him from the inside out.

“fine, i’ll do it, but i’m expecting compensation for any date,” he says hotly. “you’re paying for it all since it was your stupid ass idea.”

the group almost protests, but jaemin silences them with a deadly look. he reminds them a second time that they’re the ones who came up with the idea, he’s not paying for this out of his own pocket (at least not yet).

when he waltzes up to you at the next party, a seagram’s escape from his own personal stash in his hand for you, you’re immediately suspicious. but his smile is soft, his gaze impossibly softer, the whole of it disarming. he chats you up easily and by the end of the night, your number is secure in his phone, your text log pinned to the top of his messages, and a potential plan to go get breakfast at a hole-in-the-wall diner next week. he smiles when you turn back and wave to him as you’re leaving.

this whole thing is supposed to be a bet, but he’s always wanted to get to know you better, so if he can get his stupid ass friends to bankroll all the dates he plans to take you on, he figures it’ll be killing two birds with one stone.

zhong chenle is the boy your friend has a crush on. he’s in your general psychology class; he sits a couple of rows behind you in the lecture hall, always has the best discussion board posts, always sets the high score for every test, quiz, and assignment. he’s also involved in the choir on campus and he lives in the same dorm building that you and your friend do.

you see him on campus in passing all the time, frequenting the dining hall and the library on the same schedules. your friend, iseul, is almost always with you during these instances too and she starts crushing… hard. you can’t say you blame her: he’s pretty and intelligent and kind of mysterious. you’ve heard whispers of him being the campus crush, which doesn’t surprise you in the slightest.

one friday night, a little bit gone off a blue razzberry beatbox, iseul pleads to you on your dorm room floor, kneeled on the hard linoleum floor and hands pressed together, the whole nine yards. she wants you to help her get with chenle, she really likes him but because she doesn’t have a way of meeting him naturally, you’re her next best bet. she makes you a million promises: she’ll do your laundry for a month, she’ll buy the groceries for the room, she’ll buy your coffee at the campus cafe for the next year, whatever it takes.

she’s near tears when you finally cave in and help her; she hasn’t spoken a single word to that boy, but she’s already so whipped and you’re not sure if you’re ready to hear her whine if you say no. she’s very lucky that you have a group project for your gen psych class and chenle is in your cohort. you don’t have a single clue about how you’re going to play cupid for her, but you suppose you’ll figure it out as you go.

when you, chenle, and the other two members of your group meet for the first time, you’re ready to help iseul bag the man of her dreams. but the more your group meets, the more time you spend sitting next to chenle, his body heat tangible and his cologne invading your senses, the more you exchange ideas and small talk, the more you realize that you like him quite a bit, more than you should.

and then you start hanging out with him outside of the project too, getting coffee or sharing a table at the library or eating dinner on the nights that iseul doesn’t join you for a meal. he laughs at your jokes, asks questions, talks to you about things other than academics. the more you spend your time with him, the harder it gets to want to matchmake him with iseul.

but you made her a promise and you’d be a bad friend to break that promise.

park jisung is your first love, even if he doesn’t know it. he’s a million of your favorite romance tropes rolled into one: childhood best friend, boy next door, campus crush. everything about him is so sweet and kind and cute, it’s next to impossible to not fall in love with him, not when he has everything in the world going for him.

you grow up together, your moms best friends since high school, so you’ve been raised as best friends since birth. you’ve had joint birthdays, matching gifts, a shared cake, all of it. all of your big duo achievements have been celebrated together and you’ve been each other’s dates to every high school dance, including your senior prom. it’s just always been you and jisung, always intertwined, forever written in the stars.

you both decide to go to the same college, manage to get assigned to the same dorm building and into the same gen ed classes because neither of you can imagine going through university without the other. it’s not that you’re codependent (at least not unhealthily so), but he’s your self-proclaimed life partner. you don’t have to follow the same path, just ones that are parallel to each other.

but when you start university, he quickly becomes the heartthrob of your dormitory and then the entire campus. jisung, as he always has been, is oblivious to the extra attention he gets from your classmates, the glances they shoot him in the dining hall, their less than innocent invitations to hang out in their dorm rooms. despite your decades-long friendship, you’ve never really talked about crushes or love or anything of the sort and he’s never given any indication that he likes you romantically, so there’s no reason for you to feel that sharp, ugly pang of jealousy in your gut when another classmate leans a little too close towards him to ask a question while you’re standing in line at the dining hall, waiting to swipe your meal cards.

but you do. it is sharp and painful and terrifying the way you feel so viscerally upset when your peers, girls and guys alike, try to make passes at jisung. you always knew you felt differently about your childhood friend, the one you’ve known since literal diapers, but not to this extent. and you realize one night while you’re drinking contraband alcohol in your dorm room that your feelings stem from a place in your heart you can trace all the way back to eighth grade when he asked you to be his date to the valentine’s day dance when the person you asked rejected you very publicly.

park jisung is not yours, not officially, but your heart has belonged to him for years and you’re too deep in to take it back. maybe if he was just a little less oblivious or you a little less anxious to put your friendship on the line for it.

#kvanity #klabels #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #nct x reader #nct fluff #kpop fluff #mark lee x reader #renjun x reader #mark x reader #jeno x reader #haechan x reader #jaemin x reader #chenle x reader #jisung x reader #park jisung x reader #writing.fic #nct dream.fic

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sitp-recs · 1 year ago

Note

Thank you for all your recs! I was wondering if you had enjoyed any femslash fics recently? I’m open to any pairings! Thanks!

You’re welcome, anon! I haven’t read much this year but I definitely have some recent femslash recs for you. Enjoy :)

the press of heat by earlybloomingparentheses (Linny, E, 1.8k)

It's summer, it's late, it's hot, and Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood touch each other for the first time on the front porch.

Only One Bed at the Three Broomsticks by @thistlecatfics (Andromeda/Augusta, M, 2k)

Andromeda drinks only one day a week, when she doesn't have Teddy to look after, because she is a responsible grandmother and certainly not an alcoholic. Getting too drunk to Apparate home is expected. The presence of Augusta is not.

One Or The Other by @sleepstxtic (Dorcas/Narcissa, Dorcas/Marlene, E, 3k)

Dorcas becomes a murderer at eight o’clock on a Friday night.

collarbones like a bow, skin an arrow to the heart by @lqtraintracks (Ginsy, E, 4k)

Gin’s adjusting the lighting for their next shoot when in walks the new model Luna was so enthusiastic about, and that’s when they know they’re in deep shit.

Obscure Topography by montparnasse (Flonks, M, 5k) - not a new fic but I found it recently!

Sometimes, Tonks realizes, coming at each other from awkward angles makes you stick, elbows and all.

Green Light by @sorrybutblog (Ginny/Hermione, E, 6k)

What if the best way to get over Ron was to get under Ginny?

Looking For A Complication by The_wig_is_a_metaphor (Narcissa/Ginny, M, 8k)

“Mother, when I said you should get out more," Draco shouts, "I did not mean you should have an illicit affair with a scandalously younger woman!"

Nicotine/Linger by @teacup-tai (Pansmione, E, 26k)

Pansy has been living a slow Muggle life in Ireland for five years now. Managing her anxiety and trauma with one too many drinks, way more anonymous fucks in loos than strictly advised, wonderful Muggle friends and a job that keeps her hands busy. Life is kinda alright -though a tad bit fucked up- until she stumbles into Hermione Granger in the Muggle Hospital.

you will burn right now but then you won't regret it by @thistlecatfics (Flonks, M, 31k)

Eight years after Voldemort’s defeat, as the illegal potions trade ravages England and the government intensifies lycanthropic restrictions in response, Fleur and Tonks join forces to uncover corruption in the Ministry.

Passion, Patents, and Pen Pals at the Ministry by @violetclarity and yrfrndfrnkly (Pansmione, T, 32k)

After an extremely ill-timed lovers'-tiff-turned-food-fight at the Ministry leaves her less one boyfriend and suspended without pay for six months, Hermione pleads for some position–anything–to fill her days until her suspension is up.

#asks #anon #hp rare pair #femslash recs

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justforbooks · 7 months ago

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Anouk Aimée

Elegant French film actor best known for her roles in the classic films A Man and a Woman, Lola, and La Dolce Vita

Show-business history records how the young Françoise Sorya was walking with her parents in Paris when they were approached by the director Henri Calef, who asked whether the teenager could play a part in his forthcoming production La Maison Sous la Mer (1947). The answer was yes and Françoise took the professional name Anouk after the character she was to play.

A short while later, she accepted a part in La Fleur de l’Age and its director, Marcel Carné, added Aimée to her chosen name. In the event the film was not completed, but its writer, Jacques Prévert, had been captivated by the beauty and natural talent of the young actor and wrote a screenplay indebted to Romeo and Juliet for her. As a result, Anouk Aimée, who has died aged 92, took the role of Juliette in The Lovers of Verona (1949).

The success of the movie launched her career, which included some 70 feature films, stage work and a handful of TV movies and miniseries. Her greatest successes were La Dolce Vita (1960), Lola (1961) and A Man and a Woman (1966), for which she won a Golden Globe and an Oscar nomination, but she chose work erratically and happily sacrificed her career for a private life that included an absence from the screen during the first six years of her marriage to the actor Albert Finney.

Daughter of Geneviève (nee Durand), who acted under the name Geneviève Sorya, and Henri Dreyfus, also an actor, she was born in Paris. During the occupation, her parents moved her to the country for safety and she used her mother’s name rather than that of her Jewish father. He later changed his name to Henry Murray.

Aimée studied both drama and dance before her first starring role in The Lovers of Verona, as the would-be actor Juliette, who, while working as an understudy, meets and falls tragically in love with a set carpenter (Serge Reggiani). That success took her to Britain for a part opposite Trevor Howard in The Golden Salamander (1950). Although she was well received in the rather dull film, she subsequently married the Greek director Nico Papatakis and had a daughter, and did not appear on screen again until The Crimson Curtain (1953).

This was a stylishly made period romance, adapted by the writer Alexandre Astruc from a short story as his directorial debut. Despite a duration of 43 minutes and narration rather than dialogue, it proved a critical success. Aimée, cast as a young woman with heart problems who sacrifices herself for her lover, embarked on a busy international career.

She played a prostitute, Jeanne, in an adaptation of a Georges Simenon story, The Man Who Watched the Trains Go By (aka The Paris Express, 1952); co-starred in a somewhat pretentious thriller, Bad Liaisons (1955), directed by Astruc; and played a small role in Lovers of Paris (1957), which starred Gérard Philipe, France’s leading romantic actor.

She was invited to play opposite him in Jacques Becker’s Montparnasse 19 (1958), a biopic of Modigliani in which she took the role of the woman who eventually married the artist. She moved straight to another prestige production for Georges Franju, The Keepers (1959), playing a woman who tries to help a young man wrongly committed to a psychiatric hospital by his father. In Federico Fellini’s La Dolce Vita, starring Marcello Mastroianni, she had the powerful role of a jaded socialite and found in the director a new freedom and vitality that kept her working in Italy for much of the next six years.

However, her best role was in Lola, Jacques Demy’s enchanting debut, dedicated to Max Ophuls and romantic cinema, which it affectionately satirised. Aimée as the not very talented singer waiting for her sailor lover to return made the character, in top hat and feather boa, vivacious yet vulnerable. Sadly, most of the other films in this period were less distinguished, and only Fellini’s 8½ (1963) placed her in a quality movie, as Mastroianni’s girlfriend.

She received the greatest popular acclaim of her long career in Claude Lelouch’s A Man and a Woman. It took the Oscar as best foreign film, and the Cannes festival award as best film, with an Oscar nomination for Aimée as best actress. She did not win, but there was compensation in receiving the equivalent award from Bafta, a Golden Globe and starring in a huge box office hit. Its success led to a sequel, A Man and a Woman – Twenty Years Later (1986).

After starring in the elegant and mysterious Un Soir, Un Train (1968) for the Belgian director André Delvaux, she again played Lola, in Model Shop (1969), which marked Demy’s American debut. The film flopped, not least because Aimée seemed uninterested and unengaged by her role.

The same could be said of The Appointment and Justine (both 1969). The former was a misguided project by the New Yorker Sidney Lumet and suffered from an arty pseudo-European “sophistication” that alienated audiences. Justine was taken over by George Cukor early in the shooting. The director, famous for his rapport with female actors, later remarked that it was his only experience working with “somebody who didn’t try”. It was a commercial failure.

She returned to the screen in 1976 with Second Chance. There was an upturn when she received the best actress award at the 1980 Cannes festival for A Leap in the Dark, an atmospheric work by Marco Bellochio. Aimée took the character role of a spinster sister of a judge (Michel Piccoli), also unmarried, each enduring lives of quiet desperation. This was one of eight films she made with Piccoli, a friend since their days as drama students.

She worked for another distinguished director, Bernardo Bertolucci, in Tragedy of a Ridiculous Man (1981), but her cool talent was swamped by the ebullience of her co-star, Ugo Tognazzi. The political thriller enjoyed little success either critically or commercially. Aimée subsequently worked mainly in France, with occasional sorties into international movies, including a small role in Jerzy Skolimowski’s Success Is the Best Revenge (1984), and a larger one in Bethune: The Making of a Hero (1990), a co-production celebrating the Canadian doctor Norman Bethune, portrayed by Donald Sutherland.

She was among the prestige cast in Robert Altman’s stargazer’s delight, Prêt-à-Porter (1994), which had fun at the expense of the fashion trade. In 2002 she received a lifetime achievement Golden Bear award at the Berlin International film festival.

She continued to work during the following decade, and defended criticisms of her occasional misfires, saying that while some of her choices had been poor, she was still proud of her “not unimpressive” career. She added that actors, too, need to work for money.

She had a pivotal role in The Birch-Tree Meadow (2003), co-written by Jeanne Moreau and directed by Marceline Loridon-Ivens. This sturdy work cast her as a Holocaust survivor returning to the scenes of the atrocities and encountering the photographer grandson of an SS officer.

In lighter mood in the comedy Happily Ever After (2004), she played the mother to the central character Vincent, a role taken by the director Yvan Attal. In 2006, she was attracted to another supporting role as the mother to the lead actor in the intriguing Hotel Harabati.

The amiable The One I Love (2009) was followed by a return to the director who had given her international fame in 1966. Lelouch’s Ces Amours-là was a sad disappointment, however, and Aimée’s following film, Paris Connections (financed by Tesco and sold through their retail outlets), based on a Jackie Collins novel, seems to have fared little better.

She then worked with the novelist and film-maker Philippe Claudel in his second feature, Tous les Soleils (2011), in which she took the role of a dying woman. After Mince Alors! (2012), her 90th screen credit, in which she had a small role, as Maman, she effectively retired, living in Montparnasse, Paris, with her daughter, Manuela.

However, in 2019 she was tempted to return for a final film with Lelouch and the chance to work again with Jean-Louis Trintignant, her co-star from A Man and a Woman. The film The Best Years of a Life was the second follow-up to that famous original and dealt with love and memory in old age. It was celebrated for showing the enduring magnetism of its stars.

Aimée was married and divorced four times. She is survived by Manuela.

🔔 Anouk Aimée (Nicole Françoise Florence Dreyfus), actor, born 27 April 1932; died 18 June 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #Anouk Aimée #in memoriam

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ofpd · 1 year ago

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I’d be interested in a non exr fic rec list

ok yes sorry this took a while to answer, i wanted to get through some fics on my tbr before posting it :)

The Pursuit of Light | enjolras & feuilly | 3.3k

"Let's start with the first conjugation," Enjolras says, taking up the pen beside him and scribbling down a list of words Feuilly is entirely unfamiliar with. "I hope my handwriting isn't too arcane."

True Fraternity | enjolras & feuilly | 2k

When Feuilly goes on a trip with his bourgeois friends to practice shooting, he feels increasingly out of place.

Farouche | combeferre/enjolras | 0.8k

Enjolras and Combeferre's friendly debate about love, family structures, and women goes a wee tiny bit off the rails, and Enjolras reacts even more severely to being hit on when he's interested than when he's not.

Driven Like the Snow | éponine/marius, éponine/montparnasse | 2.9k

The night after the Gorbeau robbery, Eponine wanders the streets of Paris.

Unravel | éponine/marius | 18.2k

Éponine Thénardier can "unravel" time--jump backward a few minutes or hours and let events play out again, sometimes slightly different from before. It's a secret little thing that she uses occasionally, to get herself out of trouble or avoid minor accidents. She's never tried to do anything big with it because, on the whole, she's happy with her life--her family's inn is successful, they live in a nice neighborhood in Paris, and she's in love with a kind and beautiful boy named Marius. But when her lover is killed on the barricades of the June Rebellion, she has to try to fix it--even if it means using her power on a scale she's never dreamed of. Even if it means throwing away everything else she has.

Under a Moonlit Sky | bahorel/fantine | 25.1k

The year is 1817. After Félix Tholomyès' little suprise, a despairing Fantine thinks she might go to her hometown of M-sur-M to find work. Instead, she decides to find Tholomyès and make him acknowledge Cosette. Enter a young man who would love to have an excuse to travel South (as far away from the law faculty as possible) and is uniquely suited to hunting down terrible men...

In Which Is To Be Learned The Name of Enjolras's Fake Fiancée | cosette & enjolras | 52.3k (unfinished)

It was true, Cosette allowed, that he was nothing at all like the beautiful young man from the Luxembourg, but she must not judge him unkindly for that. The world was full of young men, and it would be quite tedious if all the handsome ones were handsome in the same way.

#stuff tagged ep/marius includes unrequited ofc #anyway there have been more that ive enjoyed but here are some favorites #all canon era lol. that does tend to be what i like. also part of why theres unfortunately no epoferre here #that doesn't work in canon era LOL. but also i once read a fic mistagged as epoferre and have not wanted to look in the tag since #also my pursuit for good eposette fic has proved fruitless :/#so far at least #asks #anon #les mis #i could give commentary on these but i always feel a bit weird doing that. like this is tumblr the authors could see #oh i guess i couldve included the most viscerally upsetting fic ive ever read in this but 1) its kinda exr and 2) i dont wanna think abt it #if anyones curious though u can dm me

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wilwywaylan · 2 years ago

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Sometimes Valentine’s Day is best spent watching your love / best friend / mentor / boss / secret lover while he catches on much deserved sleep.

Aka Kazper is love and we love them together.

Happy Valentine’s Day, you all, I love you all ! But especially @crow-songs-at-dawn, the Montparnasse to my Jehan !

[image ID : Jesper, a black man with curly black hair and grey eyes, wearing a white shirt, purple waistcoat, black pants and leather black shoes, is sitting cross-legged on a golden, ornated armchair. He’s holding a book, but he’s looking at the bed, his head leaning on his hand. On the bed, Kaz, a white man with black, slicked-back hair, wearing a black waistcoat and shirt, is sleeping. He’s covered up to the waist with black blankets. His cane is leaning against the carved bed. The room is richly decored, with a large carpet on the wooden floor and several pictures hanging on the grey-green walls, including the DeKappel. A desk with plans can be seen on the other side of the bed. The scene is lit by a lone lamp on the nightstand, casting a golden glow on both characters. end ID]

#shadow and bone #six of crows #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #kazper #le p'tit fantome #don't ask #I love you even if they have so many problems #they are so cute #my Drawings

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les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques · 1 year ago

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A little more of what I’m up to:

If I ever let you leave Mazanderan, Behrouz once said, wind rifling through his hair, you must promise me there will be no more reckless violence. No more death upon your hands. There is a worthy man somewhere inside of you. Make something good with him.

At first, Erik laughed—right in his little Daroga’s bonny face, blessings on its memory—at the impossibility of such a promise. A man composed of death from head-to-toe had a right to his natural trade; take a sailor off the water and he will stumble around terra firma on his sea legs, after all.

But as the decades began to creep up on his tenure in Paris, Erik was mildly pleased to learn that there was little difference between killing and making art; perhaps it was why it had become so easy to replace one with the other almost entirely, save for a necessary indulgence. Destroy a sheet of newsprint, or else smatter it with carmine lake, rich as blood. Squeeze the life from a metal tube of paint, grind a pencil into a useless stub, and watch them slowly crumple into uselessness before your eyes. To say nothing of how hanging or stretching out a canvas was a considerably tidier affair than hanging or stretching out a men. Canvas did not piss itself or beg for god, did not leave behind wailing widows or round-eyed children. You were its god. You, its lover. You, the one who remained behind to witness their legacy.

Besides, it is not the inherently good man who makes art, or so he told himself, whenever his past sins slinked up against his memory like a cat. Rather, it is the man searching for his own meaning who does.

And ashamed as he was to admit it, music seemed to only bring pain these days. For though his violin inevitably found its way into his hands on a regular basis, song always blew through him like wind, biting and fast-fleeting. Such was first love grown cold, or so the poets said. Yet despite his crimes, he was young enough to believe a part of him was still capable of creating some sliver of beauty. Architecture had returned to him naturally in this phase of life, yet the Opera was Garnier’s child, however much he might interfere and hassle the man otherwise. And at the end of the day, whatever else he designed on his own terms, he was still building worlds for other men to inhabit. Men who still could live in this one unmolested and admired, despite their transgressions.

Such were the hard truths to confront in trying to exist like those men, nevermind the nightmare of his face: that music was ingrained and inevitable, impossible to forget because of the way it had woven itself around the tragedy that was his existence. That destroying buildings required a level of violence which he told himself was no longer within him. But drawings—paintings—ah! They were like mirrors. Easily smashed, highly forgettable if you saw enough of them in this world. And every day, a new luminary rose amongst society, only to be forgotten amongst a fresh wave of other image-makers. Fair play, then. Let him be a creator and an iconoclast—it was a step above being a monster.

It was in keeping with this train of thought that he dragged himself to the Salon that spring of 1865, false nose in place, ready to brave the brunt of a Paris thirsty for meaning in this rare period of bucolic nothingness. He’d been out of the world for most of his life, yet never had Erik felt the longing to finally join it so keenly; it whispered, low and lovely, that such a world was only just slightly out of his reach. And why should he believe otherwise? He’d a beautiful home on a quiet street in Montparnasse, a small office staffed with a handful of spineless but otherwise competent yes men, and a contract to one of the most important projects the city had seen in decades—perhaps centuries. Barring his ugliness, he was almost a gentleman. And modern gentlemen, it was understood, were men of art.

All of the chatter around that season’s exhibition concerned Manet’s latest ode to Paris: a massive vignette depicting some lady of ill-repute and her maid, the former staring directly at the viewer like she was Venus herself and not some stunted, stubby-legged creature summoned from the depths of Pigalle; he laughed when first saw it, delighted in the fact that most people in the room were horrified enough by her presence to ignore his entirely—despite the fact that a million such women floated in and our of their lives as easily as the breeze. Despite the fact that such women fucked the attending husbands, enraged their poor wives, and spent the money that might have gone to their children or good names on whatever it took to survive and, perhaps, survive well.

From beneath the wide brim of his hat, Erik glanced around the gallery; he imagined spotting his darling Behrouz’s amused scandal, found himself hoping to spot a convivial smile, or some other scrap of kindred humanity. Something to tell him that he was not completely alone in the world as he always knew was, deep down.

That was how he first saw her: a tall camellia amongst withering irises, dressed from head to toe in black silk despite the delightful May weather. Beneath the little veil on her hat was a face worthy of Marianne—a straight, patrician nose; wide, almondine eyes; a mouth that looked as if it were sculpted for the sole purpose of indiscriminate, egalitarian kissing. But as beautiful as she was, it was the expression on her face that arrested him so. It was hard to describe, save for that it was something like a mixture of humiliation and proud understanding—the same emotion he felt as the crowds of Nizhny Novgorod showered him in gold in praise of his ugliness. Her spine remained ramrod straight all the while, despite the large man on her arm chortling and whispering something in her ear, the corner of her mouth downturning ever so slightly. Even as her chaperone walked away, she remained fixed in that position, save for the occasional nervous swipe of a gloved thumb over her parasol’s handle.

And somewhere, above the offended din of the masses, Erik heard a music he’d long forgotten—the awful thumping of his heart.

#the phantom of the opera #erik #gaston leroux #fan fic #original characters #pre-canon #art history au #i gotta use my art history degree for something #original character #erik x oc

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