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hunting-the-game · 1 year ago
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🎉 celebration sex headcanon
For Jake, Blair, and Sacrilege
Jake: He doesn’t really celebrate much anymore. Birthdays are hard to track (and harder to appreciate when one doesn’t age), the holidays he used to love don’t really exist here, and even small victories don’t seem worth a real celebration. Despite that, if he’s feeling particularly moved he’s open to have sex with someone he cares about as a form of celebration. It’s just about the right time/right person to spur it on.
Blair: Blair mostly celebrated solstices and equinoxes in life, with the occasional Halloween or birthday, and would definitely be the kind of person to have celebratory sex for that kind of thing (for midsummer and winter especially), but again that’s harder to track in the fog. He would definitely be up for some cheeky Halloween boning though.
Sacrilege: As a demon sacrilege doesn’t really celebrate all the much, but they do enjoy participating in human rituals. If Blair or someone else initiated they would be more than happy to participate.
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azure-cherie · 1 year ago
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𝐏𝐀𝐂 : 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅.𝐒.
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Hello love's for this reading i channel a love letter from your future spouse , i really have a lack of fs readings and ik I don't do that enough but here's it because I feel so called to do this todayyy. Take what resonates and leave the rest , you can choose multiple . I hope you guys like this and feedbacks are always always appreciated !!!!!
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Pile 1 :
Mon Amour ,
The sweet river of my life, the reason I live , the reason I thrive , I've been seeing you in my dreams since past lives and I can't fathom the beauty in your eyes . Ever since we've been together and the day i met you my life has been absolutely the one I dream of . Thank you for always being the shoulder I can learn on thank you i think i don't say it enough, you deserve the world and I'm trying everyday to bring in the world for you . I love the way you make art and love the way you make me your muse if I had the talent you had i probably would sing for you . I love your sweet kisses like candy and i hate every moment i argue so I'm happy to be sorry first kidding I know you're always right kinda bad on my part right , I wanna give you the world and there's so much to be done yet , so much to achieve , so much to heal but i know with you by my side i will heal. So i steal the thunder from heaven to make a souvenir of my love even when i am dead the way i tell you about my love won't be enough.
- yours completely
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Pile 2 :
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Dear love ,
In my darkest days you're the light I turn to , my heart is so full even when my brain is in shambles because I have you . I'm so in love that I can barely eat so I soak up your sunshine and I'm all fine and better under your holy light . We are a pair and we will make history and all these people that think we're too young too naive will be left in misery, they don't see you like i do, we both see each other . They say love is a big thing but I'd like laundry and taxes with you . Plain bread with you tastes like heaven , even tho I'm a heathen i pray the heavens for you may the paradise we make last forever, may i always keep jewellery in your altar , may things never be forbidden in our diary and in all of the things that are may I know one thing for sure that I don't wanna spend a moment away from you anymore . I burn for you I'm human for you .
- your lover
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Pile 3 :
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Hey Miss,
Springtime your time my time I look at you my beautiful flower fuller than poppies , more abundant than a lotus , like a burning rose with desire , you set me on fire , yet you cool me like running water how do you do , how do you put me in this state . I wanna love you don't you think it's getting late for even a while to wait , meet me at the garden gate . I don't know much but I know I came into earth to be with you i could be a tree but I'm a human to love you like humans do . How could you know me so well i almost lose myself when I'm with you and that's what I want when I'm with you to be free like a child . I wanna devote all my evenings to make coffee for you and i wanna spend all my breaths being high because I love you so much my thoughts spin out , you're moon herself you grant wishes so please grant mine goddess divine .
- always yours
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Pile 4 :
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Hey sweetheart,
I've been on a quest to find you , since I was young I've always felt that I was meant for more than just I saw what other couples around me had I knew I needed to be drowned and insane when i like someone , but the way you lift me up gave me all of it together , you're all the bright colours at once , yet you're a mystery , I love that i figure out something beautiful about you each day I know life with you can never be boring, it's always fun always worth living , thank you for holding me when the world discarded me , I know angels are real because i have seen you . Sorry for the times i mess things up , i never want that . we need to be together to explore this world without this bond this earth is mere ground with fire at the core , I wanna love you more . How do I explain this love where do I put all my love for you you're growing into me with each day I place your name in my heart like a sweet melody , i live to love you , I love to love you.
- only yours forever
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Thank you so much for reading, have a great day/night ❤️
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goldsainz · 1 year ago
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WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW — one shot.
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pairing: charles leclerc x reader
MASTERLIST.
taglist: @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @ellswilliams @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @woweewoowa @forza55
summary: you’ve slowly consumed charles’s thoughts, and he doesn’t mind it.
request: “can i request ✒️ �� you’re my family too. ❜ + charles ?? thx in advanced hehe <3” by @ssainzz
warnings: pure fluff
NOTE: i was listening to margaret by lana while writing this and i just though it was so perfect for this fic. trying to get back into writing after a pretty uninspiring (and quite rough) few weeks. hope you enjoy bc i sure enjoyed writing this!
[ word count: 748 ]
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Charles adores his job. He loves the sound of the engine, standing on the podium, seeing all the excitement the fans have to give and he adores travelling the world. He would never complain about the amazing things he is doing, but if there is one thing he has learned to cherish even more than all of that, it is you.
You’ve become an integral part of his days. Whether it’s waking up next to you or calling you to check in, he knows you’ve become home to him. When people ask him how his family is doing, he never fails to mention how you are doing.
He can’t help but admire you every time you walk by him, you’re a ray of sunshine in his life; at least that’s what everyone tells him. He hasn’t heard the end of it since he revealed you were his girlfriend, from his teammate to the fans, they can all see how much you’ve brightened his soul.
“Charles?” You softly say, snapping him out of the daydream he was in.
He glances up at you, watching as you move around the room. You’re packing your suitcase, clothes thrown around the room, you’ve most certainly overpacked for the race weekend. But Charles won’t tell you. He’s tried before and it’s a lost cause.
“Hm?”
“Do you think I should take the maroon or vermillion?” You muse, grabbing two different types of dresses and placing them against each other.
Charles furrows his brows, he glances between the dresses and tries to make a decision. But if he’s honest, he doesn’t know what the difference really is. The cuts of the dress are practically identical, and the length is the same in his eyes.
“The maroon?” He says doubtfully. You screw up your nose at his decision, apparently not being what you wanted to hear.
You look at the dress Charles picked once more, and with a shrug you throw it onto the ever-growing pile of clothes in your suitcase.
“I was thinking that for your family dinner we should bring something, right?” You ask him, organising some of the mess you’ve made.
“Our family dinner,” He tells you, a soft smile resting on his lips.
“Huh?” You manage to say, dropping the clothes you were folding onto the bed he’s resting on.
“You said that it was my family dinner, but it’s ours.”
“Oh,” You exhale, taking notice of the deep sentiment behind his words.
It takes you slightly by surprise, it’s not unlike Charles to be sweet, to reassure you with words when things get hard. But this time it is almost out of nowhere. You didn’t really mean anything by your words, yet it seems they touched him in a way you’re not even sure how to describe. The one thing you do know though, is that at the end of the day, he comes home to you. Because home is wherever you are, and that is bigger than anything else.
“You’re family to me, chérie.” He says after the smallest beat of silence.
“You’re my family too.” He doesn’t waste a second in getting up from the bed and kisses you grabbing the nape of your neck and pulling you into the kiss like he won’t ever get to do so again.
There is a pause in time. While his lips are on yours, it seems like everything just stops. Leaving you to breathe in the moment, cherish the feeling.
When you pull away from the kiss, the crinkles in Charles’s eyes from the soft smile he gives you melts all your insides. You’d be a fool not to give him the same sentiment back, and so you do.
“You’ve got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.” He whispers, his hand caressing the side of your face.
“And you’ve got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.” You say back, admiring the depth of the green in them.
Though neither of you say it, too lost in the moment, it is evident that the love between you is sparkling. And you know, you just know, that Charles is the one for you; just like he knows you were made for him.
If there’s anything you know, it is that he is your family. That he is the one you love. The one you’d come home to every day and never be bored of it. Because monotony with Charles is impossible, and if there ever is, you’d still want it.
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ladybirdswritings · 7 months ago
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Pretty Thing - Cooper Howard (Ghoul) x Reader
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Summary: You’re a shiny, pretty prize worth more caps than can be counted on ten hands altogether. There’s something special about you, and the Ghoul is determined to figure out just what it is.
Notes: I’ve been wanting to write for this cowboy for days now and I’ve finally come around to it. Cowboys are my specialty lately <3. Lmk if u love this and I’ll write more (feel free to leave me lots of comments and interactions, I love those!!)
A03 | masterlist | next chap
pretty thing…
“Well lookie here, seems you vaulties ain’t as perfect as you promise to be, huh?”
A furrow of chocolate brows, offense and confusion from sweet Lucy MacLean. This vault promised development in weaponry that the new world had never seen before. It was a thing of storybooks, the kind of thing her dad told her right before her head hit the pillow.
Now, here she was; and it wasn’t a caged weapon she was staring at… no, but rather a caged person.
“This violates all of our policies…” she muttered softly, worry stitched in her soft features as she looked on at the mangled cowboy beside her.
“Tsk tsk, sweetheart. You oughta be more careful with trustin’ these shit-eating freaks. Ain’t you learned your lesson first time round?”
Lucy sighed, falling to her knees and grazing a warm hand against the metal. She looked on at you with pity. Weak, hazy you.
How did you end up in this predicament? You didn’t know. You didn’t remember.
It was as if the entirety of everything you’d ever known was only stitched within your brain in jagged, disorderly flashes. This had to be one too. A flash.
A vault dweller and a ghoul, side by side.
It was most certainly a flash.
“What do we do, coop?” The brunette wondered, doe eyes gazing up at the mangled creature. He only smirked.
“We split. You find your precious tin-man you can’t stop yappin’ bout… and I’ll snatch up this dyin’ cargo. Comprende?”
Lucy had come to trust him, and maybe it was a stupid thing to do. Reality was, though, he’d kept her alive this far. Maybe she owed it to him to follow orders. With a huff, she parted— and then?
It was just you and the ghoul.
Heavy footsteps circled your metal cage, like shark to labored minnow. You were far too exhausted to pick up those pretty eyes of yours from the ground they gazed at.
Chains wrapped round your wrists and ankles, cold metal burned against your spine and cheek. There were two ghouls in your peripheral vision, and each one was the same amount of horrifying.
The footsteps halted, and suddenly the mangled, noseless blur was clear as day before you. Kneeled to your level, observant— cold.
“Well well— look at you, huh? Pretty thing. Now I understand takin’ precautions but damn, sweetie. That’s a lotta chains, hm? What’s so scary bout’ you?” He whispered the last part, thread laced finger lifting to slowly push a loose locket of hair from your dampened face through the cage.
You blinked, forcing your gaze upward so to try and meet his eyes. It was exhausting.
He observed you like you were a foreign object, a diamond in the radiated rough.
“I’d wager to say that you’re just the weapon we was lookin’ for, ain’t you?”
God, he didn’t know just how right he was.
If there was one certain thing you could remember clear as day, laced through the flashes, it was your powers. Each and every one of them, laying dormant now.
You were far too poked and prodded, too drained to even think of lifting a finger.
“Been doin’ this for centuries, pretty thing. Centuries and I ain’t ever seen this kinda experimentation on a little fawn. Hm. Guess you was just unlucky.” His breath was warm as it hit your face. Musing and eyeing your exhausted, slumped figure. Observant, taking his time. Your keepers would be coming soon— he didn’t seem worried.
“Tell you what. You look like you gon’ make me lots of money. So you’re comin’ with me. Don’t you worry, I prefer ropes stead’ of chains, sweetie. You’ll be nice n’ comfortable.”
The more he spoke, the farther away he sounded. You were aware he was a ghoul, that much was certain. Yet even so, no part of his voice, no part of his fading threats were even a little bit startling. No.
His voice was a soft yet strong southern drawl and god— it was far more comforting than the chains and cement floor you’d always known. Perhaps that’s why you let the exhaustion overtake you. Perhaps that’s why you closed your eyes.
Did it matter why? No. All that mattered was that you did.
The rest was a blur. The last thing you remember? Frayed ropes being wrapped round you tight as you were freed from your chains. Mangled, coat covered arms lifting you from the cement and golden teeth pressed against your aching ear to whisper:
“C’mon now, pretty thing…”
Then?
Slumber…
¿to be continued?
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daydreaming-nerd · 9 months ago
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The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 1
Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Final Part
Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"
AN: I just got this request and I absolutely LOVE it. I have no idea how many parts it will be because it's really parking my imagination. Please feel free to leave a comment! Hearing your guy's feedback is what motivates me to write!
Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 
Warnings (so far): SA
Word count: 2765
(all photos are from pinterest)
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It was like being born, even though I was the ripe age of 435. Well, ripe in the years of fae. It felt like being born, in the sense that I can’t really remember what came before that passing shade of violet. The way his eyes bore into me, and in that moment I knew he felt the tug too. 
Mates. 
I reeled for days, the peonies of spring my only console, my brother had always been so absent minded and utterly consumed with being High Lord. How could the cauldron be so cruel? To mate me to the High Lord of the Night. I spent the next week thinking it had to be a mistake, that my bored mind was playing tricks on me. Yet when the council met the week following, his eyes found me immediately, and I think in that moment I saw him for the very first time. 
I didn’t dare approach him, far too shy and afraid to approach the Lord of Night. Not just  because of what he was, but because of what my brother would say. By basic necessity Tamilin was a good brother, he doted upon me, kept me safe, gave me free roam of the palace. But there was a darkness about him I couldn’t place. It started when he disappeared with our father one night only to come back with two sets of Illyrian wings. I knew whatever happened was wrong, but as a woman in the spring court, I knew better than to open my mouth. Needless to say, Tamlin became High Lord of Spring shortly after, and from the wings mounted on our family walls I knew we had but one enemy, the night court. 
It wasn’t until the third council meeting (the third I was allowed to attend, after I begged my brother to let me go) that the High Lord of Night finally sought me out. 
My brother was busying himself with the politics of Day and Summer, talking the heads off of Helion and Tarquin. I kept to the shadows naturally, avoiding any untoward advances from other High Lords. I tried to stay hidden in my pocket of introvertedness, but then I felt him, and my skin buzzed, like it needed to be touched, to be held.
“You felt it too right?” he purred into the shell of my ear causing the buzzing of my skin to become electric.  
“I did,” I admit pathetically. 
“And you feel it now too,” he whispers as I finally turn to face him. The violet of his eyes pierce my soul and I’m left speechless and unable to move from their gaze. He’s otherworldly, he’s everything, and he’s also completely forbidden. 
“Do you?” I ask, hoping that whatever answer he gives can validate the fire in my bones. 
“I do,” he muses like he loves the game. “Your brother killed my family. He is my sworn enemy and I should hate you.” he breathes. I can feel his resolve slipping along with mine, for every statement he makes I can make an opposing one, “but all I want to do is kiss you right now.” he finishes. 
Fire runs through my veins as a sharp breath passes my lips. I feel my brother's presence and I evade myself from the High Lord of Night’s cage. My brother whisks me off to the Spring Court once more, but not before I glance back one last time to see that shade of violet I had already learned to look for in a crowd. 
That was a week ago. 
I stand in the foyer of the castle with my brother and Lucien as we prepare to join the council once again this week. 
“You look ravishing as always,” Lucien muses, eyes wandering me like they’re hungry. 
“It’s not often my brother lets me out of the house, I have to make a good impression somehow,” I say backhandedly. All I get in return is a sideways glance from Tamiln as we are taken to court. Today the meeting  resides in Tarquins’s court. It changes once a week to allow all High Lord’s to have the upper hand. The sea salted mist hits my face and the warm rays of the sun tan my skin as we walk into the council. 
When we arrive he’s already there. He stands out amongst the rest, not just because he’s dressed in black, but because he’s the most beautiful male I’ve ever seen. The definition of a forbidden fruit. As if to tempt me, Tamilin unknowingly  sits directly across from the High Lord of Night making it so I can’t lift my head without meeting the violet of his eyes. If you had asked me to recall the events the council discussed, I couldn’t, the only word left on my tongue was Night. Talk of tithes and power checks drifted over my head. The only thing to rouse me from my trance was the scraping of wooden chairs across marble floors, signaling that the council meeting had adjourned and that the more foundational political talks of High Lords would begin. 
I took it as my queue to step out onto one of the many terraces of the Summer Court. The room where the council was held was stifling. I thought that the breeze of the ocean might cool my skin, but no matter where I went that deafening heat followed.  
“I was hoping I would see you again,” purred a voice from behind me. 
I turned to find that piercing violet once more. “Of course why wouldn’t I be at the council meetings?” I ask, trying to act like I won’t be replaying this conversation in my mind when I return to bed tonight. 
“You’ve only been to four council meetings now, and your brother has a habit of keeping you locked up in the Spring Court.” he trails, drawing closer to the railing of which I’m leaning upon. 
“Well I intend to be at all of them from here on out,” I state.
“Any particular reason why?” he asks with a playful tone in his voice and I know what he’s insinuating. 
“Because I wish to be a part of the governing of my court, even though I am just a woman,” I say, evading his innuendo. 
“That’s a shame if you were part of my court you wouldn’t have such phrases like ‘just a woman’” he states almost as if he’s upset with the phrase. 
“I highly doubt that, women aren’t equals in any court,” I scoff. 
“What about Kallias and Viviane?” he asks. 
“What about them?” 
“Kallias sees Viviane as his equal, she is his mate and his High Lady,” he explains, stepping even closer to me, close enough that my skin starts to buzz again. 
“Viviane is special, everyone knows that,” I justify. 
“And you’re not?” he muses and my skin goes from buzzing to electrifying in three words. I feel his fingertips grazing my hand as if asking for permission. 
“My Lord we can’t do this,” I breathe out. 
“Call me Rhysand,” he says, stepping even closer. 
I step to the side, avoiding his advances, “My Lord, I won’t do this, I can’t do this.” I affirm. 
I see him bristle from my reluctance to call him by his name, “You’ll give into the idea of us. When you’re lying in that cold bed high up in the spring court thinking of all the ways I could warm it for you. When you’ve spent the week with nothing but this conversation on your mind,” he leans down to whisper in my ear. “This time next week you will beg for me to touch you, and I’ll happily oblige, mate.”
I’m so taken aback by his words that I can’t even form a quick witted response, I simply slid away and tried my best not to look back at him as I felt his gaze pierce my back. I nearly slam into Viviane and Kallias. 
“Y/n are you alright?” Viviane asks. 
“Yes, just feeling the heat of the summer court,” I lie, fanning my face. 
“Then you should come home with us today, it’s been so long since we had a girls night. I wish for your company." She smiles while taking my hand. 
“Shall we go home sister?” Tamilin appears, Lucien in tow. 
“Actually I think I’ll spend the night in the winter court with Viviane, she’s right,” I look at her and smile. “We haven’t had a girls night in quite a long time.”  
“Very well, I won’t get in the way of your sinful gossiping,” Tamilin smiles and leads Lucien away with him. 
If the summer court is sea salt and sun, then the winter court is pine and fresh fallen snow. Though they are opposites in every way, they are stunning in their own right, like all courts are. I’ve been here many times before to sit and talk with Viviane, she’s one of the only other ladies of nobility my age and a fierce friend. It’s not uncommon for me to spend a couple days here in the winter court, with Viviane and Kallias. 
I sit among a bed of furs near a warm fire adjacent to Viviane as Kallias pours both me and his mate a glass of red wine. 
“Thank you dear,” she smiles, kissing him on the cheek before he leaves us to gossip. 
“You and Kallias really are a perfect match,” I beam and Vivianane knows me well enough to know that there's a sadness there. 
“You’ll find it too someday, your mate. I know you will,” she assures me. “Now tell me, what of Lucien?” 
I roll my eyes taking a sip of my wine, “He’s still insufferable. The other day he backed me into a wall and if one of my ladies maids hadn’t walked in I swore he would’ve had his way with me.” 
She lets out an airy laugh, “I still can’t believe Tamiln allows him to play with you like that. He’s so fiercely protective of you with everyone else.” she says, taking a sip of her own wine. 
“Lucien is his best friend, he wouldn’t deny him anything, even his little sister.” I point out. 
“I suppose you’re right,” she smirks. The night is filled with goblets of wine and laughter as we continue to talk about the high lords of Prythian. We even go as far as to talk about her and Kallais’ sex lives, to which Kallias promptly came in laughing taking his wife to bed. 
I trudge down the hall to the bedroom the High Lord and Lady had set aside just for me a few years ago. I fall into the plush mattress, the world slightly spinning around me. The second I am left alone with my thoughts I recall the feeling of Rhysand’s breath on my neck and I shiver. 
The room spins and I feel my skin grow hot with need, my heart beats faster and my  head is drunk with that shade of violet. My hand subconsciously drifts down my body. 
You’re drunk? A voice cuts through my head. 
I sit up right and look around the room. The only thing I find is the flickering of the fireplace against the walls. 
The same voice chuckles and speaks again, No I am not in the room with you my mate.
“How are you doing this?” I ask in my head.
The daemati gift, and of course, I am your mate. The High Lord croons. 
“Get out of my head” I grumble. 
But you called for me, I can feel your… excitement.
“Then you're mistaken,” I hiss.
We both know that’s not true darling. 
“Goodnight,” I groan, rolling over to go to bed.
Goodnight, darling
The following days are long. Despite my better wishes there is a part of me that yearns to see the High Lord of Night again. I waltz through the spring court, picking flowers for the dinner table and evading Lucien’s advances. At night I find myself obsessively reading the romance novels I keep beside my bed. On one night in particular a certain scene in my book makes my toes curl and my thighs clench. My fingers skim the pages and the roughness of them is almost heightened. 
My my my, what a dirty book. That voice croons into my mind.
“Get out of my head,” I gripe. 
I can’t help myself when I feel your body react as it does. He purrs. 
“How on earth can you ‘feel’ my body?” I roll my eyes.
Like this. 
A tug reverberates through my body. Like there’s a string in the pit of my stomach that he just pulled. The sensation causes me to lose a breath as further arousal goes to my legs. He lets out a dark chuckle. 
“Don’t ever do that again,” I order him
But you loved it so much, He purrs and I can practically feel him smirking in my head. 
“You’re an insufferable bastard High Lord,” I growl at his persistence. 
Call me Rhysand. 
“I see no reason to drop informalities, my lord.” I quip back. 
My name will fall from your lips one day, and when it does I’ll be sure to swallow it with my own. Until then, I’ll leave you with this. Goodnight darling. 
I feel another tug at the bond reverberating through me and I nearly let out a moan at the feeling. I snuggle into my sheets that suddenly feel as if they are constricting around my body. I toss and turn and try to push all thoughts from my mind, but I can’t stop the idea of the High Lord's lips on mine. His night black hair in my hands, the way his moans might fall from those lips.
The next morning I take my breakfast in one of the lounge areas, still reeling from last night. My thoughts still wander to the image of his face, and how his eyes light me on fire. The door opens and a head of auburn hair pokes in. 
“Forgive me, I didn’t know you were in here,” Lucien says like he has regret, yet he sits down across from me. 
“No worries, I'm almost finished eating,” I reply, placing my tea down and getting ready to get up.. 
“And I secretly hoped to spend some time with you,” he sighs, sinking into the couch. 
“Perhaps later, I wanted to read in the garden,” I stand and make my way towards the door. 
“Perhaps now,” he growls. I feel a cold hand grasp my arm hauling me into the wall. 
“Lucien,” I hiss as my back is pressed into the wall, his frame looming over mine. 
“You are such a tease,” he smirks before kissing my neck hungrilly. His hands roam my body pulling me impossibly close. 
“I’ve never once given you any inclination that I wanted you,” I gripe at him. 
“That’s what makes you so desirable my dear,” he practically moans into my neck. 
I gather my strength and push him off of me, “I’ll remind you that I am Tamlin’s little sister and while he favors you his favor only goes so far. One word from me and he’ll send you back to the Autumn Court.” I growl at him, and it seems to be enough as he backs away and leaves me to reel from what just happened in silence. 
I sit down on the couch and take deep breaths to ground myself. 
What’s going on? Are you alright? That voice like glorious night cuts through my mind and I almost feel thankful for how it brings me back to reality. 
“Yes I’m fine,” I say back. 
What happened? I felt your fear through the bond.
“It’s nothing, just Lucien.” I dismiss him. 
Did he touch you? 
I almost swore I heard anger laced in his voice. “Well I am his favorite plaything,” I roll my eyes.
And Tamlin allows him to touch you like this? 
“As long as my virtue isn’t completely compromised so that I am still of value when he inevitably marries me off, yes. He doesn’t care.” I divulge, and quite stupidly I realize. 
As if I needed another reason to hate him.
“He is still my brother, my Lord,” I remind him, though I secretly feel the same. 
Don’t you mean, Rhysand?
“No I don’t, my Lord,” I say, drawing out the last words. 
I’ll see you tomorrow my darling, I relish the idea of seeing you in the golden light of the day court. 
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springtyme · 1 month ago
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𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 ♡
Spencer Reid x reader || Main masterlist || Spencer playlist
summary: You spend a lazy sunday with Spencer.
word count: 765
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𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚�� 𝟏𝟕) 𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲
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You stretch out on the couch, snuggled in a soft blanket, letting the warmth engulf you. Sunlight streams through the window, casting a golden glow across the living room. It’s a lazy Sunday, and the world outside seems to slow down, matching the rhythm of your day.
As you glance over at Spencer, who’s sprawled in the armchair, you can’t help but smile. He’s buried in a book—one of those dense, scholarly tomes that only he could find leisurely. His hair is tousled, and there’s a forgotten mug of coffee on the table nearby, steam still curling lazily into the air.
“Spence,” you call softly, your voice almost a whisper.
He looks up, his brown hazel eyes sparkling with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Yes?” he replies, shifting in his chair, his attention torn between you and the captivating pages.
“What’s the topic today?”
He beams, the sparkle in his eyes intensifying. “It’s about the psychological impact of color on human behavior. Did you know that studies show blue can create a sense of calm?”
“No, I didn’t know that, but it’s interesting.” You chuckle, shaking your head playfully. “Only you would spend a Sunday learning about the psychology of colors, Spence.”
“Do you want to know more?” he asks, his voice animated, and you can’t help but love how passionate he is when he talks about his interests.
You sit up, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Sure, but first, there’s something we can do to test out that ‘sense of calm’ theory.” You gesture to the blanket, the soft blue fuss of fabric draped around you, inviting him over to join you.
He hesitates for a moment, torn between his book and you, but your smile is irresistible. With a small laugh, he sets the book down and pads over to the couch, slipping in beside you. You nestle against him, resting your head against his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you.
“This is much nicer,” he muses, leaning his head against yours.
You close your eyes, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere, inhaling the comforting scent of his shampoo. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this cozy bubble. “So, tell me more about how colors affect our mood,” you say, nudging him gently to continue.
Spencer goes on, the words spilling out with delightful enthusiasm, but you find yourself drifting in and out of his explanations, comforted by the cadence of his voice. His talk evolves into a blend of colors, emotions, and the psychological associations various hues evoke. He mentions how warm colors, like red and orange, can elicit feelings of excitement and energy, while cooler colors, such as green and blue, promote relaxation and calmness. You listen, occasionally catching snippets of data and studies, but even more so, you’re enchanted by the sound of his voice and the way he lights up when he discusses his passions.
“Did you know,” he continues, his fingers gently stroking your back, “that yellow is often associated with happiness and optimism? But too much of it can actually lead to frustration and anxiety. It’s a delicate balance.”
You nod, slightly drowsy, but still invested in his words. “Sounds like colors are more complicated than I thought,” you murmur, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips.
As the afternoon rolls on, you both decide to take a break from deep discussions, opting instead for a movie. Spencer adeptly picks one from your collection, and you laugh when he chooses a quirky classic rom-com, probably unaware of the irony.
As the film plays, you snuggle deeper into the blanket, resting your head against Spencer’s shoulder, feeling the warmth radiate between you. The opening credits roll, and you can’t help but smile at the familiar soundtrack—the kind of feel-good music that reminds you of lazy  afternoons spent on the couch together.
Spencer’s hand finds yours, fingers intertwining effortlessly as the movie unfolds. The lighthearted banter on-screen makes you chuckle, and you steal glances at Spencer, whose eyes twinkle with amusement. You appreciate these moments, finding joy not just in the film, but in the shared experience, the little moments of connection that weave your lives together.
As the credits roll, you find yourself wondering how you got so lucky. The day has been simple yet perfect, filled with laughter, warmth, and a sense of easy intimacy. You turn to him, brushing a stray hair from his forehead, and he looks at you with a gentle smile, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the afternoon light.
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yan-lorkai · 2 months ago
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Aaa back to my origins, I missed writing for Chrollo, he is such an interesting character with some many layers to peel off. Got inspired to write this after doing a lesson for my course where me and my group were discussing about the meaning of life and, y'know, philosophical questions like this would get Chrollo debating for hours just so he could understand his darling opinions.
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The room was dimly lit, the only light source was a flickering candle on a worn-out table - the room Chrollo rented this time left to be desired, quaint, old. Shadows danced along the cracked walls, creating an atmosphere that was both claustrophobic and eerie. And you were almost certain that you saw a roach running somewhere. You hated here.
Most of all, you hated him.
Chrollo's dark eyes bore into yours, the intensity of his gaze sending even more chills down your spine. The air as always was thick with tension, one could not have a simple conversation with someone like him im peace.
He leaned forward, his shadows swallowing the light as he let his book rest on the table before turning to look at you again. You could almost see the gears turning on his head. Chrollo was calm and composed but there was something deeply unsettling about him — an aura of danger that lingered just beneath the surface.
Maybe it was his eyes. His very beautiful, mesmerizing eyes that were so similar to two black holes devouring and tainting anything they fell upon. He rested his chin on his hand, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips as he observed you, as he searched through your soul for something only he knew about.
"Entertain me, dear," Chrollo began, his voice smooth, almost gentle, yet laced with a sinister undertone, drumming his fingers against his leg, "What do you think is the meaning of life?"
The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. You hesitated, knowing that your answer could shape the course of this conversation. He liked doing that; giving you something to think about to mold you into who he thinks you should be. Chrollo was unpredictable, his mind a labyrinth of thoughts and intentions that were impossible to decipher, yet you were learning how to read his mannerisms.
If he could read you like an open book, then you should learn and do the same to him. Two can play this game.
He was a man who could kill without remorse, who was used to steal and take without feeling nothing for the victims, even then here he was, asking you to ponder something as profound as the meaning of life. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to curse him; the man who took you from your old life.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I think the meaning of life is… To find s purpose. To create something that gives our existence meaning, whether it's love, art, or even just surviving the challenges we face. Don't you think?"
Chrollo's smile widened, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Purpose, you say? Interesting." He leaned back, crossing his arms as he considered your words. "But what if your purpose is tied to destruction, to chaos because the world failed you? Can that be considered a valid purpose?"
The question sent a shiver down your spine. You knew what he was getting at. Chrollo's life was one of bloodshed and mayhem, his purpose seemingly intertwined with the suffering of others. The thought of justifying such a life made your stomach churn, but you couldn't afford to show weakness.
Sometimes, you mused, Chrollo must think of you like a butterfly strapped to his table while he dissected you.
Or that's how you felt.
"Purpose is subjective," You replied carefully, your voice steady despite the unease creeping through you. "Some might find meaning in creation, others in destruction. But I believe it ultimately comes down to how we perceive our actions and the impact they have on the world around us."
Chrollo's eyes narrowed, the intensity of his gaze becoming almost unbearable. "And what about you?" He asked, his voice soft but deadly serious. "What is your purpose? What meaning do you find in your life?"
The room seemed to close in around you, the air growing colder, more oppressive. You could feel the weight of Chrollo's expectations pressing down on you, as if he was daring you to give the wrong answer. Your mind raced, searching for the right words, the right response that would satisfy him.
"My purpose..." You began, letting your eyes fall to your folded hands. You didn't have one, not anymore at least, he stole that and any chance that you could find it. "My purpose is to live. To experience everything life has to offer, the good and the bad. To find my own path, whatever that may be."
My purpose is to survive you, to kill you. But not yet, dear. You concluded mentally, imitating his tone.
Chrollo studied you in silence, his expression unreadable. The tension in the room was almost suffocating, the silence stretching out until it felt like it would never end. Then, slowly, he nodded, as if accepting your answer — though you couldn't tell if he was satisfied or merely amused.
"An admirable sentiment," He said finally, though his tone was laced with a special kind of amusement. "But remember, the path you choose may not always be under your control, life has a way of steering us in directions we never expected. I'm certain you're quite familiar with this."
Chrollo was a man who thrived on control, on manipulating the lives of others to suit his own ends. It annoyed you greatly that he liked to pour salt over the wound, teasing you about your current predicament.
This time you didn't look away. You held his gaze, refusing to let him see the fear that threatened to consume you. If you were going to survive him, you needed to be strong, to show him that you weren't just another victim.
"I suppose that's true," You replied, forcing a small smile. "But I also believe we have the power to shape our own future, to defy and erase certain aspects of it."
Chrollo's eyes gleamed with a dark amusement, and for a moment, you thought you saw something dangerous flicker in his expression. "Perhaps," He nodded, his voice low and almost mocking. "But remember, in the end, the meaning of life may be nothing more than what we make of it… Or what someone else makes it for us."
The conversation ended with those words, the tension in the room slowly dissipating but leaving behind an unsettling feeling that lingered in your chest. Chrollo rose from his seat, his movements graceful and deliberate. He gave you one last, lingering look before turning to leave, his presence as haunting as ever.
"I'll buy us something to eat, behave yourself in the meantime."
As the door closed behind him, you were left alone with your thoughts, the candle's flame flickering weakly in the darkness. The meaning of life, what did it matter in a world where someone like Chrollo Lucilfer existed, where lives were manipulated and discarded without a second thought?
You couldn't shake the feeling that, in his own twisted way, Chrollo had found his meaning right here and now.
And if he did, if he found his meaning, you didn't want to know what it was.
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httpknjoon · 9 months ago
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surprise, surprise | jjk
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plot | When you asked what your boyfriend wants for Valentine's, Jungkook challenged you to surprise him. But when you did, he wasn't the only one surprised.
words | 2.1k+
genres | fluff,  secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au
pairing | jungkook x reader
warnings | none
note | another part will follow :)) enjoy reading!
main masterlist  |  drabble series masterlist
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It was a late afternoon, during a warm sunny day, you and your boyfriend finally went on with your picnic plans after weeks of talking about it. Under a lush shade tree, Jungkook laid out your classic red gingham picnic blanket. He also has pillows from his place, knowing that you would love to have one while chilling. On the flip side, you brought out the food from your basket which includes various colorful sliced fruits, sandwiches, chips, orange juice, and a bottle of chocolate syrup if ever your boyfriend wants to put it on his fruit.
It has been past an hour since you arrived at this spot in the park, half an hour away from the city you and Jungkook live in. So, with no worries about seeing your friends around, you two were free to basically do whatever you wanted on the grass. Jungkook brought his digital camera and you were already sure that half of the photos he took today are Bam’s. You were just giggling when you saw Jungkook trying to make your pet stand still with his green toy ball and sounds he learned from The Dogist, a dog photographer who posts every dog he meets online.
“One more, Bam. Stay…” he commanded as he closed his left eye to focus on his camera’s viewfinder. 
Your pet, eager to have a treat and his toy, heeded. Followed by a shutter sound, you hear a satisfied chuckle from your boyfriend. He handed Bam a treat and then threw the ball for your pet to run after.
“How was it?” you asked, sipping on your glass of orange juice.
Jungkook turned around in your direction and instead of answering immediately, you found him staring at you. Used to him dazing out sometimes, you just smiled and took another gulp from your glass. Jungkook took this opportunity to point his camera lens to you. He moved around, finding the best angle where the light makes you glow from your greenery background. You were an angel before his sight. He clicks for your candid shot. When you hear the first shutter sound, you realize what he is doing.
“Wait! Take another one.”
This time, you smiled for the camera, making him smile behind the lens. After a couple more shots, he sat next to you to show you the results. By the small sound of awe you made, he knew you loved them.
“You’re such a great photographer, babe,” you told him.
“I just have a very beautiful muse,” he replied.
You looked up at him and he laughed when he saw your eyebrows scrunching together. Perhaps it was too corny and sweet. But your scrunched expression softened up before giving him a peck on his lips. He was about to lean in for more but you pulled away with a smile.
“You used to get girls with those lines?” you teased and laughed.
And before Jungkook can defend his game, Bam runs back with his toy in between his teeth. Half an hour passed, and the camera was now in your hands while Jungkook lay his head on your lap, scrolling through his phone. Bam is napping on the grass beside you two, tired from playing. The weather was not too hot since there was still wind blowing from time to time, perfect for a midday nap. With no more energy to take pictures, you settled his camera down. For the next few minutes, you spent the time running your fingers on Jungkook’s hair and appreciating the peace of the place. You can feel your heart feeling at ease.
“I can’t believe we’re already in the second month of this year,” your boyfriend suddenly spoke, eyes still glued on his phone.
“I know, babe. It seemed like yesterday when we celebrated New Year’s Eve at Dara’s and our anniversary,” you replied. “Then, we told Blaire about us.”
He put down his phone with that, looking at you, “We didn’t tell her, you did.”
You just rolled your eyes since you know you cannot really defend yourself. You were too drunk that night, Jungkook had to tell you what you shared with your friend the morning after. And after a whole-day conversation with Blaire, she agreed to not say anything about it and simply called you two “sneaky rats” in a teasing way.
“Anyway, Valentine’s Day is next week.” Jungkook brought up the topic, sitting up. “Do you want to do anything or go anywhere?”
“Well… we already did this picnic.” you clicked your tongue as your eyes traveled away, thinking. 
And after a few seconds, an idea pops into your head. An activity you saw online that you found cute and perfect for you two. You beamed as you told him about it. Jungkook nodded as he listened intently, eyes traveling down his tattooed knuckles.
“I love that, we can do that! That’s wonderful, princess.” He smiled, eyes crinkling. “Do you already have any ideas about the design?”
You shook your head, “Oh, not yet.”
“Okay, okay.” he nods again,
You squeeze his hands, “How about you? What do you want to do?”
He looked up at the leaves on the tree as he sighed, “I don’t know… Really. That’s why I asked you. What you want is what really matters to me.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Really? Nothing?”
He nodded his head but not a second after, he spoke again, “Okay, I have an idea.”
“Okay, spill.” 
“Surprise me,” he said like it was a challenge.
“Surprise you?” you repeated.
Looking back at your relationship, you were a little weak at doing surprises. You cannot really lie well and always see his reaction when you get him something meant for a surprise. But maybe you can try again.
“Okay, babe.”
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“Isn’t this sad?” Wooshik sighed in between the film playing on the television. “It’s the day before Valentine’s. We are both single straight guys, watching Meryl Streep boss around people because we don’t have any plans tomorrow,” he added.
I do, Jungkook said in his head. Today is the thirteenth. It has been days since you two went on that picnic and he has been secretly waiting for your surprise. You didn’t want to give him a spoiler about it since you both know how bad you are at lying. So, you didn’t give him even a single clue.
And since it’s the day before that day, you and the girls in your friend group went out for your Galentine’s Day. You told him your activities for the day, which included going to a baking class and pampering yourselves in hair and nail salons. So, in return, he and Wooshik are pretty much shooed away when the latter begs to come with them.
“It’s for girls only! Go hang out together,” Jenny laughed. 
So, they did. Initially, they planned on playing video games in Jungkook’s place. But after two hours of playing and having succeeding losses, they got exhausted and opted to watch a movie. The streaming service recommended a lot of chick-flicks so that’s what they settled for.
“This is fine. The girls are single too. A lot of people are spending tomorrow single.” he noted, focused on the film.
But Wooshik exclaimed, “But love is in the air! I don’t want to be lonely. Maybe we should pull up at a bar or something. Maybe we can have dates tomorrow.”
“I told you, I’m not into those things anymore.”
“Those things?! It’s called dating, JK. So you’re not into dating now?” Wooshik asked his tone in disbelief. Jungkook just laughed at his dramatic reaction. His friend continued, “What happened to my friend who used to introduce me to his new girlfriend every two weeks?”
Jungkook tossed him a pillow, smacking it right to his face, “Hey, people change!”
“You used to hold the record for most partners in a year in our friend group, JK.” Wooshik snickered.
“And now, I don’t. I’m happy where I am right now.” 
“Blablabla. That’s something a person with a great high-paying job or a nice love life would say. And I don’t think your job pays you that high for you to say that.” Wooshik quipped while watching the movie again.
Jungkook laughs. He’s right. But Wooshik is not aware of how fun he is having with you. Your friend doesn’t know how much you made his life more than nice. You made his days a lot more warmer and brighter than it has ever been.
“And the girls are not really single. Jenny said she will be busy tomorrow–”
“She is. She works as a head chef in a restaurant. Tomorrow is like a festival in her workplace.” Jungkook cuts him off. 
His friend snickered, “Okay, but she’s going on an occasional date with that same guy she met at a food convention. Blaire is having an on and off and on relationship with Grace. Dara is dating–”
“She is?” Jungkook asked.
Wooshik nods like it’s something he has known for a long time, “Yeah… and YN, I just know that one is seeing someone.”
Something in his stomach dropped when Jungkook heard that, “Yeah?”
“Remember when I stayed for like a week in her house when I had something renovated in my place? I swore I saw her sneaking out a guy one early morning.” his friend shared, clueless about the guy who was now sitting in front of him.
“Are you sure?” Jungkook asked.
“Yeah, I just didn’t see him properly since the lights were off. But I heard YN talking to him.” 
Yeah, it’s him. 
Not wanting to talk about it anymore, Jungkook said, “You know what? Maybe we should go out.”
It’s like Wooshik’s ears perked up when heard that, “Where?”
“Just out. Maybe get something to eat or… I saw this new bowling alley opening up around the corner. We can walk there from here.”
Originally, Jungkook wanted to take you there first. But with his best friend being bored and talking about you and your relationship, he just thought of going to that place.
“Oh, okay. Maybe fate can find me a date there.”
Jungkook chuckled, getting up, “Okay, I’ll just take a quick shower. Then, we can go.”
Wooshik nodded and Jungkook walked away. Left alone in the living room, Wooshik reached for the almost-finished bowl of chips on the center table. He rarely watched chick flicks but he really liked this one. Maybe because of the lead actress. But nonetheless, he enjoys the story.
“I just don’t get why she has to leave her great job for Nate. I mean, he did not even support her when she was having growth in her work and she was in Paris!” Wooshik exclaimed as the screen showed Anne Hathaway walking away from her boss, portrayed by Meryl Streep.
The credits were rolling in when he heard the knock on the door. He was about to call his friend when he heard the distant trickling from his shower. Wooshik got up and opened the door, dusting off the cheese powder from the chips. A delivery guy stood in front of the door, holding a box of pretty flower arrangements.
“Delivery for Jeon Jungkook.” the guy said.
Confused, Wooshik had his mouth slightly open before answering, “Oh… uh, he’s in the shower. But I can receive this for him.”
“Okay. Please, sign here.”
The guy handed him a paper and Wooshik followed. After the flowers were handed to him, he said thank you and closed the door. His eyes scanned the whole arrangement filled with various flowers. A white folded card sat on top of it. As he carefully placed it down on the table, one question stayed in his head.
Who the hell would send flowers to his best friend?
So just like what any nosy, curious person would do, Wooshik flicked the card open.
Blooms for the best person I know. 
I was with B in the flower shop and he helped me pick the flowers. I hope you’ll love them.
Know that this is the first of other surprises I’ve planned for tomorrow ;)
But firstly, let me ask you for the first time,
Babe, will you be my Valentine?
-Princess
Princess? Who the hell is Princess? Who is B? Is B a person? Did his friend have a baby and didn’t know it?
“Hey, let’s g– Oh, where did that come from?”
Jungkook came in, hair damp. His eyes land on the bouquet of flowers. Wooshik is frozen in place. His hand is still holding the card as he stares at him.
His eyes gradually squinted, “Who is Princess, and why is she sending you flowers?”
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TAGLIST (closed)
@hobiuwusunshine @alinerl @bbangtanlove95 @daydreamiies @craftymoonchaos @awseokjin @yoonabeo @luvrsofbts @hisbutton-nose @bloopkook @chvngbiin @takochelle @wildarmy @cuddlysoftbear @luv-minhyun-world @shydestinyyouth @bbtsficrecs @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @jkbabiey @hopeworldjimin @chieftoadturkeynickel @ppeachyttae @tannies-luv @loomipee @sanctify-mp3 @stuffy16 @laylasbunbunny @di0rgguk @tswisal1 @amara-mars @jksgirlhere @callmejimmeo @rapmonie2047 @petalsofink @daemontargaryenwhore @juju-227592
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taylorswiftstyle · 10 months ago
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The Tortured Poets Department | April 19, 2024
Saint Laurent 'Silk Tank Top' - $650.00 The Row ‘Ausra Brief’ - $790.00
Our first look at a new era. 
With so little to go off of, there’s still much to parse here. Between the bedsheets, the pose, and (of course) the clothes - a pair of briefs and a slinky tank falling off the shoulder - to me evokes a combination of both intimacy and guardedness. Soft and vulnerable, but a little careworn and protective. This is the balancing act I think Taylor’s been playing with her whole life (an open heart revealed through deliberate acts) but feels painted in a more (pun intended) black and white way on this album cover. Even the sheerness of the top that plays with transparency, but only how much she permits, strikes me. 
And, it turns out, Taylor wearing The Row (and toting a few new YSL bags too) so much over the last few months was no coincidence (is there ever one with Taylor, really?). Her cozy selects appear to be (as confirmed by her stylist) to be this sheer tank and ribbed brief by YSL and The Row. 
While there’s so much about this album’s themes and sound that we don’t know - it’s of course fun to guess! The idea of the tortured artist to me sounds like it has the opportunity to explore the self-loathing andthe satire Taylor has previously toyed with on both "Anti-Hero" and "Blank Space". Both the sincere truth of self-analyzing a life of being a tortured poet herself while also poking fun at the muses in her life who have aped at being tortured poets - perhaps delivered with a tongue firmly in cheek accompanied by a smirk and an eyeroll. 
I’m excited to see what awaits us and learn more about this project as well as your Critically Kind thoughts. 
Editorial Note: Original cover image captured by Beth Garrabrant - Taylor’s album photographer since folklore. In place of Beth’s image, for which she retains rights, I’ve commissioned a lovely demonstrative illustration by the talented Amelia Noyes.
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mischievousmoony · 4 months ago
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𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜' ⟡ 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹
⟢ james potter x black!reader (fem)
⟢ summary: after your parents cross the line, you and your older brother sirius find sanctuary at the potters'. your first day goes very poorly . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 5.1k
⟢ warnings: there is talk about the reader's previous hostile home environment, although it's not pictured. walburga black is implied to be mentally unstable. a theme here is the lasting impact growing up in that environment has on a person: reader fears becoming like her parents, longs for a more loving environment, doesn't handle her emotions very well, and picks fights. both anger and sadness are dealt with unhealthily by different characters. if there is anything i should add here, please please let me know.
⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ masterlist
note: well! yikes! angst! i'm not sure i like the vision but i’m trying to remind myself this is a hobby and doesn’t have to be perfect <3
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“A walk?” You questioned with a raspy voice.
“Mhm,” James nodded, “Just around the yard. Think it’ll help you feel better.”
You let James lead you to the back door, hand and hand. When he opened it, you discovered that “yard” was a bit of an understatement. The Potters’ property was larger than you knew— enormous, really. Lush garden beds thrived nearest to the house, and the grassy green beyond was surely where James practiced quidditch over the summers. The large trees scattered around the outskirts of the property made you picture a younger James climbing them.
James led you into the grassy landscape, taking notice of your awestricken expression as your eyes fall on Euphemia’s garden.
“I knew you’d like it out here.”
“It’s beautiful,” you mused, stopping to admire a bed of flowers. James dipped down and plucked one from the ground.
He fit it behind your ear and winked, “Don’t tell my mum.”
You frowned, reaching up to remove the flower from your hair. You twirled it inbetween your fingers.
“Your mum must think so poorly of me now,” you muttered, staring down at the flower.
“What? Why would you say that?”
“The first thing Sirius and I did after we were invited to stay is have a screaming match in the dining room. We sure know how to make ourselves feel at home,” you laughed bitterly. “And now she knows we’re together. Didn’t even get to properly tell her. I can’t imagine what she thinks of me.”
“Hey, look at me.” James said in a stern but gentle voice. You wonder how all the Potters can sound so kind even when they’re working up to a lecture.
You peered up through your eyelashes. James sported a pretty smile, and that alone made you feel a little better.
“It’s gonna be alright,” he said, “My mum’s not one to jump to any conclusions. She trusts me, alright? And don't worry about your fight with Sirius. No one's expecting this to be easy for you. For either of you."
James continued, “Besides, we all let our emotions get the best of us sometimes, yeah? We’re human. My parents will understand.”
James could tell you over and over again that it’s okay to be angry and it’s okay to slip up, but you didn’t think any amount of it would ever make it feel okay. You wondered how he could even believe it.
It surprised you, actually, how mature and level-headed James could be. We’re human so it’s just okay if our emotions get the best of us sometimes? Who actually thinks like that?
At your house, you had to be nothing short of perfect at all times. Now that you’ve seen Fleamont and Euphemia in parent mode, you can see where James learned it all. You never had anything like that, and it was difficult to wrap your mind around it.
Especially because it wasn’t too long ago that James was one of Hogwarts’ biggest trouble makers—his pranks were the epitome of immature. Evidently, he's grown up a lot recently.
Stupidly, you felt bitter about it. Which was completely absurd, you thought. Because surely you were not jealous of your boyfriend because he learned how to regulate his emotions better than you did. Because he was growing up, maturing? And you… well you don’t know what you’re doing. You felt stuck, like you’d always be a scared little kid who needs her older brothers’ no matter how old you got.
“Maybe you’re right,” you said, not really knowing what else to say. You were compelled to change the subject, “I’m worried about Regulus.”
“I know,” James began leading you around the garden again. You dropped the flower back where it came from, not wanting to be caught red handed with a freshly murdered flower from Effie’s garden.
“We have to get him out of there,” you sighed.
James looked at you through the corner of his eye. Apprehensively, he said, “From what Sirius told me, you guys barely got out of there.”
“Yeah, so we’ll need a really good plan so that we don’t get caught.”
James turned his head to look straight at you. He looked at you like you had two heads.
“What, you want to break him out or something? You want to go back there?”
“We have to. Regulus–“
“Regulus made his choice.” James interrupted warily.
You felt your heart sink into your stomach, “Please, not you too.”
“You heard what Sirius said. Regulus was given the option, and he chose to stay behind,” James tried to reason.
James knew how much your twin meant to you, it wasn't a surprise that you'd be worried about him. But to go back to that house? That was a step too far for his comfort. The moment that Sirius admitted exactly what his mother had done to him, James knew he'd never let either of you near her again. Something must've snapped in Walburga Black— she has been teetering on the edge for years, but she has unmistakably gone from being a cruel mother to an outright unstable woman.
The though of Regulus still being around her made him sick. Even though James didn't know him that well, he still found himself caring about him. It was likely an extension of your love for Regulus manifesting in James, who cared for you so deeply that your concerns became his. But that's just it— you're the one who he really cared for. Above all else, it's you he wanted to protect.
“He did not choose to stay behind,” you raised your voice, offended that James could ever think so.
“Love...”
James didn't mean to, but he looked at you with pity in his eyes, as if he thought you were in denial.
Anger flared up in your chest when you registered his expression, “No, don’t do that. Just because Sirius said so doesn’t mean it’s true. Regulus wouldn’t just choose them over us. Sirius– he doesn't have his facts straight.”
James didn’t say anything. What could he? It sounded like you were implying that Sirius was lying and James knew Sirius wouldn't do that.
For the record, you didn't think Sirius would lie either. But he was absolutely capable of missing something.
“You don’t believe me,” your mouth hung open after your words.
“It’s not that.” James rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, “I believe you, but I believe Sirius too. And Sirius said that Regulus refused to come. Whatever the reason, that's the choice he made. I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger for a– a lost cause.”
His words stopped you in your tracks.
“A lost cause?"
You had never been so affronted by James. He might not know Regulus nearly as well as he knows you or Sirius, but the fact that he could easily tag him as a lost cause was unbelievable.
"Don’t be an idiot, James. How could you say that?”
James had kept walking for a couple more paces, so he had to turn to face you. He tried to cover the way the venom in your voice made him flinch.
“You can’t force him to leave,” he said, sounding as understanding as he could muster, but he needed to get through to you.
Phantom alarm bells were ringing in his ears, his desperation for you to hear him growing. You were stubborn and you'd do anything for your brothers, James knows this all to well. But not this. He couldn't let you do this. He wouldn't let you go back there.
“Merlin, you’re siding with Sirius!” you accused, giving in to the anger burning in your chest.
James tried to remain calm as he spoke.
“I’m not siding with anyone.”
“Yes, you are! How could I be so stupid? Of course you’d choose Sirius over me!"
James features twist in anguish, "Love–"
"This is what I get for falling for my brother’s best friend. When there's a choice, it will always be him, won’t it?” You spat, glaring at James in a way that almost knocked him off his feet.
He was completely taken aback; you two had never fought like this. He tried to take some semblance of control over the situation, “Okay, you’re angry right now, and that’s okay–“
“Oh, would you stop that!” you shouted. A small part of you hoped the sound wouldn’t travel back to the house, but a bigger part of you was consumed with a growing rage. That part didn’t seem to care.
“Stop what?” James knitted his brows.
“Being some master of emotions all of a sudden! I’m accusing you of picking Sirius over me! I’m raising my voice at you! I’m calling you names! Why won’t you fight back? Yell at me, do something!”
James took a deep breath, “I’m not going to do that.”
He sounded completely calm and collected. Somehow, that pissed you off.
“Oh, you’re so perfect, aren’t you?”
“What?” James felt like he was going crazy, unable to decipher what he could possibly be doing wrong.
“Perfect James Potter, wouldn’t hurt a fly these days! You could never–! never lose your cool, could you?” you shouted.
James gaped at you. He couldn't be mad even if we wanted to; he was just confused. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? You yourself didn’t even seem to know what you were saying, your words tumbling out awkwardly as you said things even you knew weren’t true.
It’s not like James never lost the reign on his emotions. He throws his quidditch gear around when he loses a match, he can’t control his frustration when he doesn’t do well in class, he isolates himself when he’s sad instead facing it, he does a whole lot of things that he’s not proud of.
And you’ve seen it all before, but for some reason, you’ve chosen not to remember those moments. All you can think about is how you were so angry and scared, and he was so understanding and level-headed. And how you grew up with screaming matches and unfair punishments, and he probably got to grow up with calm discussions and soft spoken apologies. And it all felt so unfair.
“Are you–? Sorry, you're mad at me because I'm not getting mad at you? I’m sorry, I guess?”
“I don’t want you to be sorry I want you to yell at me! Be mad at me, fight with me!” You felt the familiar sensation of tears welling up in your eyes.
James looked shellshocked. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to deal with you like this, he’s never seen this before. Sure, sometimes you bicker— all couples do— but this was reaching an uncharted territory.
"I'm not going to yell at you for wanting to keep your brother safe–"
"Then yell at me because you think I'm naive for thinking I can get him out of there. Fight with me because I think you're an idiot for thinking Regulus is a lost cause!"
You were trying to rile him up, James knew this, and he so badly wanted to not let if affect him. Not because it was making him angry, no, it was making him sad.
But he couldn't fight it.
And James always does the same thing when he's sad.
“I think we need to take a step back from this conversation. Why don’t we go inside?” James offered.
He sounded like he stole that line from some therapist's book on navigating conflict. It made you want to scream.
“You go inside! I’m going to keep walking.” You pushed past him, deliberately letting your shoulder collide with his as you stormed away.
James let the blow knock him back a step, too thrown off to do anything else. He listened to your receding footsteps and he wanted to be the type of boyfriend who runs after you when you’re upset. Who holds you and listens to you until you can work out the problem. Instead—
“Just stay by the house, okay?” he called over his shoulder.
“Yeah, whatever.”
A few hot angry tears slid down your face. You aggressively wiped them away and willed any more tears to dry up. You were tired of crying.
You stomped around the gardens and grass, thinking of Regulus and how he deserved better than siblings who left him behind to find refuge with a boy who wouldn't think twice about rescuing him too.
Leaving that house was something you'd always dreamed of. But you had imagined both of your brothers by your side. No one was ever supposed to be abandoned.
Sirius just didn’t understand how horrible being alone in that house was. You and Regulus had already experienced a taste of it when he went off to Hogwarts a year before you two. Not to mention, Sirius was always the strongest of you, so without him, navigating that house was a whole new terrain.
Maybe that’s what Sirius senses is different about your relationship with Regulus. Those nine months were probably the worst of your life, and Reg is who you went through them with.
And maybe that's why you were so adamant that Regulus can’t be left there alone while everyone else seems ready to abandon all hope. Your parents had never been more furious than when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor all those years ago. You suspected that they would be worse, angrier than ever after the departure Sirius orchestrated for you and him. You couldn’t let Regulus face that alone.
Somewhere along the line, worry for Regulus took precedence over the anger that held your gentle love for James hostage. By the time you came to a large trees on the outskirts of the lawn, the anger from the previous argument had simmered.
As you plopped down in the dirt and sat against its trunk, you tried not to be annoyed that taking a step away from that conversation really worked.
You took in your surroundings to distract yourself. It was to no avail, as a nearby shed caught your eye. Through its open window, you could see James’ broom and other quidditch gear.
“You idiot,” you chastised yourself aloud. You let your head fall into your hands as a million nasty thoughts about yourself raced through your mind, the most prominent being you’re just like your mother.
It was just like her to pick fights. You couldn’t breathe in that house without her telling you that you were doing it wrong. She always found something to yell at you for.
How could I act like that, you winced as you recalled the fight you just walked away from.
Poor James, who you yelled at for not being mad at you. It really was just like her to get upset over something so irrational. You felt ill over the similarity, and you were overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom.
You couldn't let yourself be doomed to your parents' fate. You wanted to be kind, reasonable, rational. So, what wouldn't they do in this situation?
A safe assumption would be that they wouldn't feel bad, so you're already on the right track it seems.
They also wouldn't apologize.
Okay, yeah. Apologize. You could apologize.
You have to apologize.
Just go apologize.
But you just couldn’t get yourself to move. You were frozen in shame for your behavior, the only movement was the rise and fall of your chest from your labored breath.
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James Potter did not like feeling sad. It was unsettling, uncomfortable, so utterly unlike him.
Whenever it happened, he tried to hide from it. He'd lock himself away somewhere before he'd dare face it head on— or admit that it's there at all.
The last time he was sad, he let himself fall asleep in the common room just so he wouldn't have to face his friends back at his dorm. And when his childhood pet died, he didn't mention it for months, only alerting his friends to his cat's passing when Peter asked how old his cat was again.
It's not that James thought there was anything wrong with being sad. He definitely didn't believe in any of that nonsense that real men don't cry. In fact, he was always the first to offer his shoulder if any of his friends were upset, back pats and let-it-all-outs at the ready.
But when it was him, when he was the one with the lump in his throat and a pit in his stomach, he couldn't handle sadness anymore. It made him feel vulnerable, and he wanted to be the strong one, the brave one. The one who lights up a room with the force of the sun and brings humor and fun into everyone's days.
So, when he couldn't be that, he'd rather be alone. He'd rather sit isolated in a dimly lit room where the darkness can't touch anyone but himself.
His bed creaked under his weight as he shifted in place, the only movement he has made in several minutes.
He was trying to be still and let his mind focus on nothing but his breathing. He was especially trying not to think of your argument.
He counted out his inhales and exhales, just as he had learned years ago in divination class.
James took divination for one year only. It wasn't for him, but one thing from that class did stick with him— the lesson on mindfulness. Something about mediation and a clear head opening your mind to frequencies you may not normally be able to comprehend.
James wasn't sure about all that, but he quite liked the calmness of the exercise they did in class that day, even if he felt a bit silly doing it.
He finds himself repeating the meditation from that class when he's down. He much prefers a clear head to one with racing thoughts that give him that choked up feeling in his throat.
He was broken out of his feeble attempt at a meditative state when there was a knock at his door.
Hope swelled in his stomach. Maybe you've come to talk. Maybe he could smooth things over with you. And then he could stop feeling like this.
He tried not to look disappointed when Sirius walked through the door.
Sirius gave James a once over as the door clicked shut behind him, "What's wrong with you?"
"Me?" James forced a chuckle, "Nothing's wrong with me."
"You're sitting at the foot of your bed, starin' at the floor, shoulders slumped," Sirius' hand swept towards James' hunched form, "I know what upset looks like, Prongs."
"I'm not upset," James insisted still, "I'm just thinking. Is being lost in thought a crime these days?"
Sirius shrugged, plopping down on the bed next to James. His legs hung over the edge as he let his back hit the sheets, his arms sprawled at his sides.
James listened as Sirius puffed out a long, exhausted breath.
"You alright?" James asked, not bothering to look back, letting his sad eyes remain fixed on the floor.
"Ah, I see. Worried about me, are you?" Sirius guessed.
James seized the opportunity to excuse his demeanor. Besides, he wanted to talk about what Sirius had said earlier anyway.
"You did have a pretty nasty spat with your sister. And then you nearly collapsed."
There's a lull in the conversation for a moment as Sirius thinks.
"Your parents fixed me right up again. Gave me some nasty potion to help with the dizziness. Tasted like sewage but 'm good as new. They're off now, by the way, picking up some herbs they want to steep and feed me for these spasms I keep having in my hands."
James winced. Spasms, a potential side effect of being under the Cruciatus Curse.
"Sirius... about what you said happened. Your mother–"
"I don't want to talk about that," Sirius spoke quietly, somberly.
After a moment, Sirius added, "I don't want to think about any of them ever again."
James felt a pang in his heart, knowing Regulus was included in 'them'. You wouldn't have stood for it if you'd heard Sirius say that.
James' mind wanders back to your earlier argument, his earlier attempts to avoid these thoughts futile now. You were so adamant that you needed to go back for Regulus, ready to dive into some sort of escape plan, and that still scared the hell out of James.
He considered telling Sirius about what you wanted to do. One on hand, he knew Sirius would be on board with keeping you the hell away from there— keeping you safe. On the other hand, it felt like tattling on you to your brother.
James thought about the betrayal written across your face earlier. How hurt you were when you suspected James was choosing to believe Sirius over you. Confiding in Sirius now would surely, surely make it worse. And James didn't want to hurt you.
And yet—
"Thing is... I have to talk to you about something. About your sister... and about Regulus."
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A flinch finally broke you out of your statue-like state when a sudden and distinct fluttering sounded above you. You expected to see any mundane bird when you looked up, but there was nothing there. You leaned around the tree to try to locate the source.
Instead of any random creature of flight, it was a familiar owl. And he was not in the tree, rather next to it, in a designated perch located on the other side of the thick trunk.
"Oh. Hello," you greeted the owl. He stared at you blankly, of course.
You've met this owl before. His name was Glory. You didn't know why, but James had named him, and you supposed that it was a name that James would have thought of.
You've received countless letters from James, all delivered by Glory. There were the long ones, which you mostly received during the times you were apart. Glory was good at discretely delivering them to your window. And if James also had mail for Sirius, he knew to deliver yours first.
James was always checking up on you over the holidays, making sure you were okay and telling you stories of his own time at home that would take your mind off of whatever horrible things were going on at Grimmauld Place.
When you were together, back at Hogwarts, James still sent you little notes whenever you weren't near. He knew how much you loved receiving notes from him, so he made it a habit. He would send notes about things he saw that reminded him of you, expressions of how much he missed you even if he'd seen you mere hours prior, declarations of love that he couldn't keep inside until the next time he'd be alone with you.
Oh, your sweet boy.
"I really messed up, didn't I?" You asked Glory. You chided yourself for continuing to try to talk to an owl. Not that owls weren’t smart. In fact, they were very intelligent, especially the magical sort. Glory could understand you, but it’s not like he had the ability to respond. 
You imagined that Glory would tell you that you messed up big time if he did, though.
You pushed yourself up to your feet, wiping dirt and twigs off your pants when you rose. As you walked back towards the house, you wondered if your mother ever felt sorry like this, if she ever wanted to apologize sometimes. Surely, at some point she did. James' words come back to you about how we're all human, and you want to believe that maybe there was a memory lost in your mind of her apologizing to you.
You'd have been a wide-eyed little kid at the time, snot-nosed and teary-eyed after she yelled at you for spilling milk or leaving a toy in the middle of the floor. She'd wrap her arms around you and apologize for raising her voice. Then she'd shush and coo soothingly until your tears dried up and you could show her all of your baby teeth in a wide grin.
It was unnatural, the image of her in your mind like that, but your heart burned for it to be real. As sick as it was, you still yearned for your mother's love, even if it was a thing of the past.
Maybe your house really was a poison. Because if she had ever been gentle, one way or another, Walburga Black got colder and harsher over the years. She spiraled so deep into darkness that she seemed to want to be cruel. After all, to cast the Cruciatus Curse, you do have to really want it.
Each step you took was invigorated with a new sense of determination. Apologizing to James now, owning up to your mistake, it was only the first step of doing everything in your power to never be anything like that woman.
It felt like no time passed at all by the time you arrived outside of James' door. You didn't feel ready to face him, but you raised your fist anyway. Just when knuckles were about to meet wood, you heard a muffled voice from inside.
"What do you think?" James' voice asked softly. Then, after a beat of silence, "Did you hear me?"
"Yeah, James, I heard you," Sirius said. He had that far away kind of tone in his voice he gets when he's trying to distance himself from his emotions.
"And?"
"And I'm bloody tired of talking about him!" Sirius barked. Even from the safety of the other side of the door, you flinched.
"She doesn't get it. She'll never get it because it's him," your brother continued. "If she had known he wasn't coming she probably wouldn't be here either. If it's a choice, it'll be him over me in a heartbeat. He could've done the bloody spell on me himself and she'd still choose him. Merlin, she could've done the bloody spell if he asked her to."
If felt like the wind was knocked out of you. You bit your tongue until you drew blood, fighting the urge to cry out, as if Sirius' words physically wounded you.
Rationally, you knew that Sirius was just angry, that he didn't mean it. But the rational side of your brain hasn't been winning many battles today.
You vaguely heard James tell Sirius not to say things like that as you backed away from his door until you met the wall behind you with a thump.
There was silence from inside James' room for mere seconds before the door was ripped open. Sirius stood in the doorway, James behind him. You couldn't read your brother's expression, there barely was one. How typical of him to hide behind a blank stare.
You, however, were wide eyed with a hand clamped over your mouth, leaning against the wall behind you, sure you'd collapse without its support.
Sirius began to say your name and suddenly your hand was gone and the words were tumbling from your lips.
"How could you say that?" Your voice was strained, "I wouldn't ever do that– He wouldn't ever do that!"
Sirius' eyes bore into yours but he didn't say anything. You wished you could tell what he was thinking under that stupid mask of his.
"I shouldn't have to tell you over and over again that I love you both. You are both my brothers, you both mean the world to me. It's so irrational and– and foolish to worry about a choice that I'd never–"
You cut yourself off. The irony of being so hurt by Sirius' words were not lost on you. You had only just been accusing James of choosing Sirius over yourself.
"No, that's not true," Sirius bit back, "because that choice is upon you now. So, go ahead. Let's see if you can surprise me."
"What?"
"Choose me, stay here where it's safe. Choose Regulus, go right ahead and try to be his jailbreak. But when you can't convince him to leave, when he refuses, I won't be surprised when you choose to stay there too."
Your eyes flashed to James, who looks way too shameful for you to not put two and two together. You were conflicted; feelings of regret over accusing James of choosing Sirius over you were mixing with feelings of betrayal that James had ran right to Sirius with your words.
You'd let the guilt and betrayal sink in and shred you to pieces later. You had Sirius to deal with first.
"What is wrong with you?" you hissed. "How could you be so dim? Wanting our brother to be safe does not mean I'm choosing him over you."
"Color me unsurprised!" Sirius yelled, looking smug.
Your eyes began to burn, "Fuck you, Sirius!"
James tries to interrupt, "Er, hey, maybe we should–"
"Don't you dare tell me we need to take a step back from this conversation, James!"
James' mouth clamped shut.
"Don't yell at him!" Sirius squawks.
"You want to talk about choosing one person over another? Let's talk about it. Don't pretend you haven't given up on Regulus ever since you met his shiny new replacement!"
You'd feel real shitty about saying that in front of James later; the look on his face at your words was already burned into your memory.
"Don't turn this on me!" Sirius shouted.
"You're such a hypocrite. And an imbecile for thinking I care about you any less than Regulus. Of course I care about you both the same. And you may not believe it, but Regulus cares about you too!"
"That's–"
"I don't want to hear it," you interrupted, "I'm done. Say it James."
James looked like a deer in headlights, "What?"
"Say the thing!" you shouted.
"We need to take a step back from this conversation?"
Your arms flew up, gesturing towards James as you stared Sirius down with an exasperated look on your face. Your brother scoffed and stormed down the hall, disappearing to anywhere else in the Potters' home.
For a moment it was just you and James in the hall. Your eyes met and he looked anguished and far too apologetic. You knew that you were supposed to be the apologetic one, and you felt your heart begging you to let the sorrys loose.
It was too bad that the betrayal started settling in before the guilt.
"Sirius was right before. You are a snitch."
With that, you slipped back into your room and let the door slam shut behind you.
James remained in the hall for a moment longer, not knowing who to follow. He should follow one of you.
Instead, he decided to retreat back to his bedroom.
James wanted to be alone again.
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bangtanficsforyou · 4 months ago
Text
Hello, Love! (JJK)- 01
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don't know yet lololol)
Rating: 18+
Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister's fiance wasn't it.
Word count: 2K (approx)
Warning: mentions of drug addiction, familial neglect.
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The ring fits Jungkook as if it was meant just for him. Not one bit tight nor is it one bit loose. Snug around his finger as if it has always belonged there.
A round of applause breaks out and he looks at the smiling faces of his family and that of his soon to be in law's. 
As the cheers and claps die down, he takes it as his queue. His hand makes it’s way to his pocket. However, when he is not met with a small square jewellery box, he immediately checks his other pocket. That pocket, too, disappoints him. 
He looks up awkwardly at his fiancee and tries to give her a reassuring smile. Now checking for the pockets of his trousers, he fumbles around to somehow make the box appear out of thin air. 
Realising that he is running out of time, he turns towards Jimin. “Jimin, did I not give you the ring box on our way here?” 
Jimin looks at Jungkook with eyes wide like that of a newborn baby. “No, you didn't.”
“Yes, I did,” Jungkook claims with more surety than he actually feels inside. 
“When?!”
“When we were outside–”
“You were talking on the phone—”
“And, I gave it to you while—”
“Here,” Riya offers, with the small red box resting on her palm. Before Jungkook can ask, she answers, “I found it lying on the floor of our balcony.”
Jungkook gives an awkward chuckle in response, trying to play it off. “Jimin has become very careless these days.”
Before Jimin can protest and defend himself, Jungkook shoots him a look that somehow shuts him up. 
Jungkook doesn't waste another minute before taking the ring out and putting it on Riya's fingers. The sooner it is done, the lesser are the chances of running into any other bumps on the road.
Another similar round of applause breaks out and Jungkook heaves a sigh of relief. 
The engagement is done. 
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“Dad,” Jungkook greets cheerfully as he takes a seat.
“Hmm,” his soon to be father in law doesn't bother looking up as his eyes remain occupied with the official documents he's currently working on. 
Jungkook remains unfazed by the lack of enthusiasm and continues. “You know I'm currently discussing a project with Mr. Elgin, right?’’
“Hmm.”
“And well I was telling him how I'm about to marry your daughter Riya Roy.”
“I see.”
“Do you know the praises he sang for you?”
Now that somehow catches his dear soon to be father-in-law's attention. 
“Did he?” He interlaces his fingers, and relaxes against the chair, temporarily discarding the documents in the process.
“Yes!” Jungkook nods excitedly. “He was telling me how well you would display and advertise your designs to potential investors during the early business days.” 
“What else did he say?” he muses.
“He also told me how well you have single handedly managed the business. How you started it from scratch and made it what it is today.” 
The older man lets out a chuckle. “It doesn't sound too odd for someone to praise me for advertising my clothes in a clothing line business or for working hard when I am the one who started it.”
There's a brief pause where Jungkook seemingly processes the words.
“Now tell me, how much money do you need?” 
Oh. 
Now, it's Jungkook who lets out a chuckle, albeit an awkward one. “You haven't even listened to what he said on learning that you're planning on expanding your business.”
“Trust me, I don't need to know,” comes the reply. “You tell me the amount, I need to get back to work.”
Jungkook considers his options then in the blink of an eye, his whole demeanour changes. “You know how I almost have the contract for this year's cricket world cup?” 
Much like earlier, the man hums. 
“However, suddenly, they have raised the bid by six million.” 
“So you need six million dollars?” 
Jungkook nods, hoping that the amount doesn’t sound as big as it is. 
There’s a pause and then there’s a low hum in response. “Did you return the one million dollar you had taken from Riya?”
“Well I almost have. There’s only a little left to pay back.”
“How much are you yet to pay?”
Sometimes, Jungkook wishes he knew how to read this man a little better. His father in law, undoubtedly, is every bit of the businessman you’d think of him to be. He thinks like a businessman, walks like one and talks like one in every sense possible. 
Jungkook knows that one would never find this man speaking one word, that is not required. And that just makes it all the more difficult to ever get a hint of what his father in law is thinking. 
Sometimes, Jungkook thinks speaking to this man is the equivalent of playing chess with a computer. You’d never know what the next move will be but you can rest assured, that you'll never outsmart them. 
“Some two hundred thousand.”
“That’s the amount you are yet to pay?”
Jungkook pretends he hadn’t heard the question properly, the first time. “Uhm, no that’s the amount I have paid.”
“So what’s the amount you are yet to pay?”
“Eight hundred thousand—,” he replies and then quickly adds, “—but I will pay everything back as soon as the contract is finalised.”
“Sure,” his father in law nods, not buying his words. "I'll need some time to think about it."
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“Listen, no matter what, I anyhow, need a meeting to be scheduled with Mr.Shro—I don’t care what his manager is saying about him being busy.”
The wind blows at a steady pace and somewhere in the lobby, a toddler shrieks in joy. 
“Mail his manager as many times as you need to. Just refuse to accept no as an answer.”
Poor Sam, Jimin thinks, pitying the poor boy who didn’t know what he was signing up for when he agreed to be Jungkook’s manager. 
“Yes, yes! Mail them again—not now Jimin!”
Unfortunately, Jimin doesn’t seem to catch the hint and taps him on his back, again. 
“What is it Jim—”, only it is not Jimin. “Sam, I’ll get back to you later.” 
“You asked dad for money.”
Uh oh. Jungkook could tell Riya wasn’t in the brightest of moods, but nothing could have prepared Jungkook for this. 
“Riya why don’t we take this inside?” Jungkook suggests, keeping his voice soft and calm. He hadn’t thought much of it when he was screaming at his manager left and right in the balcony, for everyone to hear. But an arguement between the freshly engaged couple, might just not be that ideal.
“Jungkook, do you not have any self respect?”
I do, in fact that is why I am asking you to move this inside, Jungkook thinks to himself. Instead of speaking the words out, he again, mildly tries to guide her inside a room. 
Riya, however, remains adamant on not cooperating with him. “You tell me, Jungkook, how can i respect a man who has zero self respect?”
“You do—”
“You know what keep your ring, I don’t want it.” In the blink of an eye, the ring that had almost managed to cause a commotion merely a few hours ago, now rests on Jungkook’s palm, again. 
“Riya, what is your problem?” Long gone is the calmness Jungkook was trying so hard to keep. Now, he sounds extremely confused and perhaps frustrated. 
“My problem is the fact that I cannot marry a man who has zero self—”
“It’s not self respect that I lack! Its ego!” Jungkook snaps. “If I know asking for help could get me the opportunity that I have worked so hard for, why shouldn’t I? Plus, it’s not like I have ever failed to pay back.”
There’s a beat of silence, where Jungkook tries to regain his composure. “I don’t understand Riya, the years when you were struggling to make it into the industry, I supported you in every way I could. So now that I'm the one who’s facing struggles, why can’t you find it in yourself to do the same?”
Something in Riya softens at the mention of all the times, Jungkook stood by her side like a rock. Every penny Jungkook earned was spent on Riya’s then struggling career. Lord knows, there were times when she felt like giving up but Jungkook wouldn’t let her. When she lost faith, Jungkook would believe in it for both of them. 
She inhales shakily and looks at the ring and it somehow manages to ground her to why she said yes to Jungkook in the first place. 
“And if it bothers you so much, I won't ask dad for money.”
She nods and then gently takes the ring from Jungkook. It's in that gentle touch of her's that Jungkook knows things are settled, at least for the time being. 
“I'll go look for Mili aunty, I heard she was looking for me,” Riya says, and somehow the abrupt end of argument doesn't surprise Jungkook, in the least. 
As Riya walks back inside, Jungkook releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He finds it a little difficult to believe that Riya almost broke off the engagement. Although he probably shouldn’t be so surprised. 
Over the years, Jungkook has become very familiar with Riya’s habit of breaking up with him at the slightest inconvenience. Now that they are engaged, breaking up means...well, calling off the engagement. 
Arguments with Riya are always like this, short lived but very frequent. Riya would state the reasons why she thinks this won’t work and all the reasons why Jungkook is wrong and then Jungkook would have to remind her of all the reasons as to why the both of them have stuck together for so long. 
Maybe it has always been like this, be it for Riya’s career, or for their relationship, Jungkook has always kept faith on behalf of the both of them when Riya couldn’t. 
Perhaps securing the deal he's currently working on, would finally give Riya the reassurance that she's looking for. Well, he sure hopes so because if this contract doesn't, Jungkook doesn't know what will. 
Getting this deal has the potential of turning you into the equivalent of Leonardo DiCaprio of the event organisation industry. There's simply no looking back from then on. You'd have career stability, money and a reputation among your peers. 
It's probably everything a woman looks for in the man, they are marrying. 
So yeah, he genuinely hopes that he can prove himself to be capable and can put rest to this constant breaking up and patching up cycle the two of them have found themselves in, for years. 
And he's definitely going to give his best, even if that means being rude to his innocent, sweet, doe-eyed manager. 
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Chapter two will be up on my Patreon on early access by the end of this week!
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fountainpenguin · 2 months ago
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Dimmsdale Rich Families Analysis
Misc. musings that haunt me daily...
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I love Dimmsdale's rich families... You've got the Dimmadomes who are all about real estate, fancy buildings, hosting city events, and (Thanks to Dale) they got into tech and shipping.
Contrast that with the "old-fashioned pencil and paper" vibes of the Leadlys, plus the Buxaplentys running the trains... It's a triangle of supporting each other's businesses (and thus, the rich get richer).
This post written under the assumption we're treating these episodes as canon, though I cherrypick "Country Clubbed" in my worldbuilding and I use Dimmsdale's founding year from Season 3 over the one given in Season 9.
General Background
Several flashback episodes imply the FOP world exists in a timeline where the English settled at least part of the west coast in 1665 (as opposed to the Spanish).
- Presumably, this is one of the unique things a universe-hopper like Jimmy Neutron would identify this world by. - On that note, people are heavily implied to "stand differently" in the FOP world, which is why visitors from other dimensions react with surprise when they see their bodies (and fall over before they get their footing):
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Just some fun "alt reality" vibes. Enjoy your visit; sea legs required.
Notably, this is also a universe where trains existed on the west long before they existed in ours, but we'll get to that.
Today I'm discussing the Dimmadomes, Leadlys, and Buxaplentys, but for anyone who's interested in learning more about rich families, Season 9's "Country Clubbed" namedrops a bunch.
Dimmadome Family
We know the Dimmadomes for their impact in the modern world- they're always innovating, hopping from one thing to the next. Dale does seem to have consistency in the businesses he owns (though I am DYING to question what his plans are for that indoor amusement park).
Doug doesn't seem able to commit to anything for long, though we know he's very proud of the Dimmsdale Dimmadome. He hosts many events throughout the series, from music shows to wrestling to demolition derbies.
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Dimmsdale was founded in 1665, named after Dale Dimm (following him throwing Alden Bitterroot the witch down a well). It's possible Dale Dimm is an ancestor of the Dimmadomes, given what we know about:
- Dimmadomes having their hand in things (including the founding of Dimmadelphia). - One Dimmadome ancestor using the surname Dimm ("Lost and Founder's Day"). - Dale Dimm's very tall, barefoot figure is a hilarious ancestor choice for Doug "tall hat" and Dale "boot obsessed" descendants when you think about it.
While it's heavily implied Dale was born into generational wealth, we can't confirm whether that was (or wasn't) true for Doug. It's possible his family helped him get his start, but he seems to have kicked off his own success story by mining for gold (Presumably at a young age given that was back in 1953 and the main FOP series kicks off in 2001).
I like to think Doug (prior Dale's birth) changed his family's surname to Dimmadome to move away from the negative connotation of Dimm and commit himself fully to his big and shiny brand image.
Doug's a pretty interesting character! He's not afraid to get involved in his projects and work hard personally, as opposed to outsourcing- a trait he and his son Dale seem to share.
Doug also seems pained to surrender a check to Timmy in "Odd Ball" (even asking for a minute to say good-bye to his money), which isn't far off from Dale's attitude towards stocks.
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He was even down to move to Alaska to follow the Ballhogs basketball team. He loves throwing all his chips on the table and doesn't back out easily. He also goes all-in with promotional outfits, like the parka above or his chicken costume in "Chicken Poofs."
That said, he might have some "sunk cost fallacy" views towards some of the stuff he buys. While the basketball team cheered they'd won the game by a close shave, Doug's first remark was that now he'd have to figure out what to do with all the stuff he bought in prep for their move to Alaska. He immediately started eating the Blubber Nuggets he would no longer be able to sell.
In "Chicken Poofs," when Doug sees the town inside his restaurant's chicken-dunking cages, his first thought isn't "Oh my gosh, I have to save these people." It's "These people stole my chickens- I'm ruined!" However (at Timmy's advice), he comes back from the loss of his chickens by selling the eggs they left behind. He wasn't about to go home empty-handed.
I'm obsessed with Doug's chicken-dipping machinery having labels so the thing one step up from Deep Fry is The Sun, and the step up from Sun is Lava. When would he ever need a dial that goes that high?
A "waste not, want not" attitude is fascinating in contrast to Dale being so incredibly wasteful, he brought two single-use helicopters on his trip to the park in "Stanky Danky." Is Dale rebelling against Doug's "We have to make the most of everything" parenting style? I think that plays really well into my vision of Dale being the first born into excessive wealth, while Doug possibly worked his way up after striking gold in 1953. Dale is wasteful, Doug more practical.
Doug is also over-the-top ridiculous and would sooner work around his love for tall hats than stop wearing them.
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He owns a boot-shaped phone and a laptop with an armadillo logo, apparently. I'm not sure what they were going for with the armadillo - it's probably just random or meant to represent high security - but I looked it up and in Mayan folklore, armadillos are perceived as cunning critters that outwit people and dodge consequences thanks to their shells, which... Yeah, I think that sums the Dimmadomes up pretty well. Fun fact, but armadillos are one of the only things Fairy magic can't affect ("Teacher's Pet") because magic bounces off their shells. My Anti-Fairy biology incorporates pink fairy armadillo biology because we know Anti-Fairies are also immune to most Fairy magic. Just kind of a "Hm" implication, especially since "Crock Talk"' here and "Teacher's Pet" are both Season 7 episodes. I guess the other horrifying option is that Doug eats armadillos the way you eat apples, but...
I'm also of the opinion that Doug torched things in the Learnatorium, given what we know about the Learnatorium's interior ("Totally Spaced Out") and this scene of Doug "destroying childhood memories" in "Odd, Odd West"
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In fact, it's not even a reach to say Doug takes pride in destroying people's cherished childhood memories. He seems to "look down on wasteful, childish things" and seems to value anything that is more useful in performing a task or turning a profit. Again, that's big "Everything must be useful and we can't waste space" energy (and presumably reflects on his offscreen parenting).
Where my fanworks are concerned, I love the idea that Doug paid for personal tutors to help Dale adjust to society and/or some basic schooling. Say... maybe an elementary teacher to start with? I don't think it would be unreasonable to theorize Crocker was involved with that, at least at first, as it helps justify the money he would've needed to expand the Crocker cave in the early days. -> We know from S4's "Genie Meanie Miney Mo" that Mr. Birkenbake states he can't afford a garage because he "doesn't make Crocker money," implying resentment... which is pretty interesting when you consider that Crocker also doesn't have his own place because he moved back in with his mom after university, and not even to his old room (Instead to a room above the garage). -> We know from S6's "Wishology Pt. 2" that Crocker stole the money intended for "the school's new science wing" and used that to pay for some of his tech, like his rocket. Both these episodes come well after S2's "Nectar of the Odds," so it's interesting to consider Crocker getting money earlier to support his tech pursuits in Seasons 2 and 3.
Dale seems to feel strongly about his dad- If it's not love, it's obsession and Grade-A Daddy Issues. His tent is shaped like his dad's head - despite Doug not being present at the event as far as we know - and even his house features statues of his dad.
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Considering the nervous, over-the-top, aggressively money-chasing person Dale turned out to be, it's no surprise we can see a lot of Dale in Doug. While Vicky did a number on Dale's psyche, there's definitely some Doug influence in his behavior too.
Fun Fact: The Dimmadome gives off Roman Colosseum vibes, so it's fitting that one of the ancestors we saw in "Lost and Founder's Day" is an ancient Roman!
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I would also be remiss not to look at the Dimmadome fortune, glance at the sheer number of businesses Doug is constantly opening... and question if there's some money laundering going on there. Seems kinda sus, ngl...
I'm just saying, Doug with a ton of "disposable income" (gold) because he ended up with a lot of it very quickly seems like a "great" way to get into gambling. Shout-out to the Dimmadomes and their obsessions that hint at addictive personalities. Actually, that makes Dev's game addiction so much darker and now I'm horrified. He could get into trouble so easily...
Also, in "Engine Blocked," Doug literally tries to pay Vicky with a bunch of [I assume fake] money with his face on it, so that's questionable...
One last interesting note is that the Dimmadrones (called such in "Stanky Danky" when chasing Cosmo, Wanda, and Hazel) are clearly based on the early model of Amazon delivery drones.
I think the obvious assumption is that Dale* built them for Dimmazon, but repurposed a few of them for Dev's caretaking (as opposed to them being built for Dev in the first place).
* It's possible the robots were built by a team, but knowing Dale programmed the statues in "Lost and Founder's Day" & Dale's seeming preference to do things himself rather than outsourcing, I'm going with the "Dale built them" theory.
This repurposing might be backed up by Dev referring to the ones that hang out with him as au pairs - a phrase meaning "caretaker" - and even claiming his au pairs are Au Pair #1 and Au Pair #2. While that might just be convenient shorthand since those are the two he interacts with, maybe those are a different type of Dimmadrone that was designed (or tweaked) specifically for Dev's care.
In a previous post, I discussed my headcanon of Dev having hypoglycemia and referenced the au pairs having the ability to "alert on him," or at least use both visuals and noise to signal him, as in this screenshot from "28 Puddings Later" showcasing a glowing exclamation point:
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We also know Dev has specific food needs (Lactose intolerance), that he's very picky with his food (Even a treat like cupcakes that you would expect a 9-year-old to enjoy regardless), and that the au pairs are capable of food preparation (since Dev tells Hazel in "A New Dev-elopment" they can make sushi).
The au pairs are probably the most advanced, expensive, time-consuming models (compared to the ones that simply need to be mass produced for package pick-up and put-down).
I do like the thought that - for all his faults I didn't touch on here - Dale does care enough about Dev that he took the time to design two robots that could look after Dev in his absence... and specifically, took the time to think of what a child actually needs.
Dale probably thinks "I spent 7 years struggling... I would've loved the comfort of knowing my base needs like food were taken care of."
In my hypoglycemia post, I said the au pairs seem to know what hugs are and can recognize when Dev wants comfort. That implies Dale put a lot of thought into the design of the au pair and its ability to assess Dev's needs. Dale's not oblivious to what a child needs, like safety, appropriate food, and physical affection... He just lets the au pairs handle Dev.
Dale definitely gives the impression of someone who's making a genuine effort to parent, considering he missed out on healthy role models for at least 7 years of his life (Not to mention Doug is a wild character and probably fell short of being an excellent parent himself).
Along with designing the au pairs to look after him, Dale involves Dev in his projects, greets Dev, and answers his questions, and that's so interesting when you compare him with people like:
- Remy's parents (after the shipwreck in "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary"'s closing scene) opting to count their surviving money and open a luxury hotel while still dressed in rags, forcing Remy to forage for his and their survival - Vicky and Tootie's parents opting to stay with perceived cannibals rather than disobey Vicky ("Timmy's 2D House of Horror"); they consistently let Vicky run the show and beg her forgiveness when they upset her. You could 100% make an argument that Vicky is Tootie's actual caregiver. - The "Fairy Idol" alt version of Bucky (Chester's dad) who lost his house and went off to party instead of securing food or shelter for his son. Also, Regular Bucky canonically feeds Chester animals he stole from the zoo or aquarium ("Who's Your Daddy?") and I think we should talk about that. - A.J.'s parents are fantastic in many ways, but there's something incredibly dark about the way they don't like A.J. going outside where there are germs ("Who's Your Daddy?"), they have a laser set up in front of their house to vaporize visitors ("The Big Scoop"), and A.J. seems to believe they dislike Chester (given his long silence after Chester asks why A.J.'s parents' security system got more aggressive after finding out he was Chester). - Later-season neglectful Timmy's parents (though I acknowledge I don't love that flanderized aspect of their character unless viewed from the 'got burned out after 50 extra years of parenting' lens, personally). - Clark and Connie who walked out on their daughter having an anxiety attack (and sent Chloe into a dissociative episode 3 times in the first episode they appeared). - A distracted adult Timmy ("Channel Chasers") leaving his kids with a robot Vicky babysitter despite the sight of weapons and his children begging.
Dale IS an antagonist and a neglectful parent. This post is not meant to take away from that or excuse it, but I think it's interesting that within the bounds of FOP characterization... He is pretty consistently in line with how parents in this show behave, and he does have many positives alongside his flaws. I totally understand why child protective services have not taken Dev from him.
Disclaimer: All characters are morally gray and this list is for amusing discussion purposes. I'm not calling these characters "bad parents" so much as highlighting interesting behaviors for consideration.
FOP's characterization leans into adults being foolish and neglectful - Dimmsdale is named after the idea that the adults are dim, after all - and I think it's worth evaluating all the FOP parents within that framework.
Related Dimmadome Posts:
- This post where I had the thought that Doug might have ADHD/OCD comorbidity (Hilariously, something I'd already decided to do with Dale and Dev...)
- This post comparing Doug and Dale body language
Leadly Family
S9's "Dog Gone" is a bonkers episode, and I love it so much. Notably, it's the episode that confirms Leadly is personally rich- Not just Pencil Nexus as a company, which has multiple branches in other states and can afford a jet.
In fact, Leadly is so rich, he offers to buy Sparky from the Turners for 17 million dollars, just because Sparky gave him the Heimlich maneuver and Leadly thought it was neat.
My personal headcanon for Leadly is that he's somewhat aware of magical beings and is actively seeking them.
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The Leadly mansion is pencil-themed, of course.
The Dimmadomes and Buxaplentys are both confirmed to have generational wealth. We have no proof one way or the other for Leadly. It's likely his is too, but it's not impossible he founded Pencil Nexus and committed to its branding because he's proud of what he does.
Leadly doesn't have many appearances, but we know some very important things about him:
- He's convinced he's being haunted by a hot tub ghost, reason being that Cosmo likes to use his hot tub at night (whether Leadly's in it or not). Sparky also claims that he had an accident on Leadly's lawn (Crashing his car), but that Leadly blamed the hot tub ghost.
- He's super buff.
- His company is literally the only thing keeping a [presumably magical] forest from overtaking Dimmsdale, considering that when Pencil Nexus reduces their tree chopping in "The Boss of Me," the forest overtakes the city within a couple hours.
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Did some godkid out there just wish for renewable trees and now Dimmsdale is cursed and suffering??
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Leadly just flexes like this and has massive muscles, but his aren't as big as the people affected by the Everleadys.
The episode makes it explicitly clear that people's massive muscles are magic and aren't going away (Hence the lawsuits and decision to remove Everleady pencils from the world), but Leadly's muscles do fade when he stops flexing. His are natural.
Despite the jokes that he flies the company jet around to goof off, it's not unreasonable to think he's out there personally chopping trees and I respect him for it.
Y'know, I did wonder how on earth selling pencils made him rich enough that he can afford to spontaneously buy things for 17 million dollars (and keep a pet snow leopard that he apparently rides, considering it was tame enough for Timmy's Dad to ride it home from work and he parked it outside his house and it just stayed there).
Did he fight the snow leopard? Did he raise it? I'm afraid of him.
Conclusion: Ed Leadly has a monopoly on an infinitely replenishing wood source. His company can never take a break or the city will be overtaken by magic plants. Big "curse of Midas" vibes.
I can't stop thinking about how in "T.U.F.F. Puppy," it's implied that Petropolis exists in the same general location as Dimmsdale... Los Angeles county:
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- Los Angeles' population in the 2010 census was 3,792,621. Dimmsdale's hillside letters parallel the Hollywood sign. - 91502 is the Burbank area code, where the Nickelodeon studio is - Jorgen claims in "Meet the OddParents" that the power he has to do that was vested in him by both Fairy World and Whittier, California. This seems to match the city borders seen in "Fairy Idol" while he's zooming in on Chester to assign Norm as his godparent.
This implies parallel universe vibes, though in my lore, I have all four Hartman shows blended into one continuity.
See my 2019 post, "A T.U.F.F. Timeline" or the shorter "How Hartman Shows Co-Exist" post if you want details on that
Here's the thing... In "T.U.F.F.," it's implied the forest near the city has been allowed to spread and evolve. Its bizarre flora and fauna certainly give a "non-natural evolution" vibe, so it's not implausible magic could be at play.
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It's made very clear in "T.U.F.F. Puppy" that this show is still set on Earth, yet "Flower Power" refers to the Petropolis Rainforest. That implies this forest exists around the city. In fact, we know it's separate from the Amazon, which is referenced in "To Bee or Not to Bee").
Interestingly, the episode "Til Doom Do Us Part" depicts Petropolis being overrun by brightly colored flowers once weddings are mass canceled-
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- which implies the florists are keeping the creep of nature back from Petropolis.
I feel like this is especially cursed in my lore where "T.U.F.F." exists in a post-FOP future... Leadly, your woods!! Oh no, he can't hear us... He's been gone for 2,000 years...
Shout-out to Pencil Nexus keeping Dimmsdale safe, one pencil at a time. And shout-out to Leadly's unique body language of gripping the sides of his coat, because he does it a lot and it makes me smile every time. He is just some background guy with a pencil-themed gimmick, but he has a special body language quirk and I love it.
Related Leadly Things:
- If you haven't watched S9's "Dog Gone," I recommend it. It's silly. There are some late-series episodes that give secondhand embarrassment vibes, but for some reason "Dog Gone"'s bizarre energy is so charming to me.
- Leadly appeared in these one-shots of mine, if you're interested in my portrayal of him hunting down magical creatures (and just generally being entitled and getting in the way): "Opportunity" & "Trying Too Hard"
Buxaplenty Family
The Buxaplentys have been running the railroads ever since Dimmsdale's early days, with Orville Buxaplenty the first to do so. Timmy's distant grandfather (Ebeneezer) mocks trains by claiming they're "just a fad" and there's no future in them- Thus, he chooses not to involve himself with trains and leaves Orville to do so alone.
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This establishes the Buxaplenty wealth as being generational through these trains. Presumably, Dimmsdale has a large train station, as this seems to be where the Buxaplentys have set up shop.
If the Dimmadomes have businesses spanning Los Angeles to Dimmadelphia, it's very likely the trains play a key role. Assuming we take the 1665 founding date of Dimmsdale as canon ("Which Witch is Which?"), the trains may have been essential at moving resources from Dimmsdale to later found Dimmadelphia. -> See also, respawning magic woods (?) Rich people crossover of the centuries??
Notably, their family takes some heavy hits in "Country Clubbed" when Mr. Buxaplenty is forced to watch the destruction of the club, his mansion, yacht, and limo in quick succession.
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The surname Buxaplenty is clearly a play on the phrase "bucks aplenty" (and I want to shout-out a 'fic I read many years ago - but unfortunately do not remember - that had a whole thing about Remy's surname actually being Buxley and everyone just calling them Buxaplentys in a derogatory way, because that's hilarious).
A neat detail about Remy is that in the Spanish version of Fairly OddParents, his surname is Cajallena, which (to my understanding) translates as "full cash register."
In my lore, I made Cajallena the maiden name of Remy's mom.
I did some poking around. Apparently, Remy is based on comic/cartoon character Richie Rich, popular from the 60s to the 90s or so (and who still shows up in modern reboots of things today).
I'm not familiar with this series, but both are blond, the only child in their family, and wear big red bows. After brief research, I get the impression Richie was at least a little associated with trains... even owning a toy trainset that costs 1 million dollars (and paying 8 million to buy the factory that makes a part of his set that broke).
I want to highlight this comparison:
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From the Hanna-Barbera cartoon, I believe, and it looks like Richie owned other gold vehicles like a boat as well.
As for Remy himself, I believe I read a few years ago that he's designed around the concept of "green-eyed envy," so he has literal green eyes. I think envious is a very good way to describe his character, considering that his immediate reaction to learning Timmy has fairies was "If he has fairies, he could wish himself richer than me; I wish his fairies were gone."
This is a minor detail, but I rewatched some Remy scenes (especially the lunch scene in "Remy Rides Again" and the breakfast scene in "Stupid Cupid") because I could've sworn Remy said at some point that he likes caviar. That might be true - I didn't find it in my hasty rewatch - but I definitely laughed when I checked and saw that instead of eating caviar for lunch like I'd remembered, he ate steak. Kid knows what he wants.
We also know Remy enjoys Crimson Chin and Crash Nebula. Specifically, we know that he's a fan of Cleft the Boy Chin Wonder, but that when Remy ventures inside the comic world, he made the character more relatable to him by making Cleft rich... in addition to minor costume changes, such as slapping the Buxaplenty logo on him in place of Cleft's usual C.
Remy sees something in Cleft that connects with him, but that extra "I want Cleft to feel like me" bit is interesting. Admiring Cleft isn't enough. He needs to be "I am Cleft's secret identity. I, Remy Buxaplenty, have this alt life." The Crimson Chin can't seem to tell the difference between Timmy and Remy as Cleft - unsurprising since he's a comic character playing his role - but Remy saving the Chin from falling is one of the only acts of kindness we see him engage in. That implies Remy does value the Chin and/or feeling like a hero in some way... or if nothing else, he values the praise the Chin gives him.
As parents, the Buxaplentys are pretty interesting. Even by "dim FOP parents" standards, they're exceptionally bad at being loving - or even effective - parents.
- Remy's dad is so awkward, he's not even sure how to address Remy when we see them in "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary." It's his wife that suggests he try "Son." Also, Remy's parents time themselves so they spend no more than 2 minutes per day with him, which they tell him openly.
- Remy's dad calls him "Liam" later, which isn't close to his name... but Remy's grateful to be acknowledged anyway, which has interesting implications. Remy takes anything he can get; putting up with what little scraps they offer to avoid the risk of turning them off the idea of reaching out to him.
- At the end of the episode, Timmy wishes Remy could spend more time with his parents. We can assume Cosmo and Wanda didn't want to hurt the Buxaplentys on purpose - especially given what we know (from episodes like "Boys In a Band" & "Go Young, West Man") about Da Rules preventing godkids from harming others directly.
So that begs the question... Was shipwrecking the Buxaplentys the only option to get them to pay attention to their son? That's kinda dark... Angela will turn down a book pitch to care for sick Hazel, but "Remy gets sick and a parent tends to him" was seemingly not on the table. Which does make sense in-universe- After all, there are plenty of butlers and staff who wait on Remy.
Remy even tells us that his parents stopped paying attention to him after about 3 seconds despite being stranded with him on a desert island, which is pretty bad... but it gets worse when you realize Remy was stranded between Seasons 2 and 5.
When he returns in "Remy Rides Again," he asks Timmy to "guess where he's been," and informs him he "just got back from an uncharted island."
Combining that with Remy's claim that his parents only paid attention to him for 3 seconds - and looking at the scenes of Remy foraging for food while he wears rags and his parents get involved with business despite being stranded - That's..... just awful.
That's a long time for Remy to be without the comforts of home or the comforts of Juandissimo while struggling to survive (and keep his parents alive along with him). Depending on where you personally place Timmy's time freeze, it can get way worse.
And Remy was just happy he had time with his parents... Happy to forage for food... Happy to get a headpat... and for what? They don't deserve you, kid.
For all his greediness and schemes, he is pretty grateful for what little he has. In addition to looking forward to spending time with his parents, when Remy is venting to Timmy at the end of "Remy Rides Again," not once does he mention "And I didn't have my nice things." He says "I didn't have my fairy, Juandissimo, to comfort me."
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Remy's parents don't even take care of themselves, let alone pay attention to his needs. They chose not to leave the deserted island - and apparently took their sweet time calling for clothes to be delivered - and Remy seems to be the one in charge of food.
Also, the implication here is that Juandissimo gave some part of his physical form up so Remy could eat, which is horrifying?? Did that happen multiple times, considering these scenes take place immediately after the shipwreck and later after Remy's mom opens her luxury resort, so definitely different days? Did... did Remy reach the point where he was struggling to find food - or the more awful option, struggling to find food for himself because he was giving it to his parents first - and Juandissimo said "F that" ??? ... help.
On top of all this, the official canon is that Juandissimo couldn't hold a job after being separated from Remy because he was so hung up on Remy's situation (and his own shame that he failed), he couldn't stop crying, so he bounced from job to job.
It's the thing I love most about Juandissimo, because when he's introduced in FFQC, he's a huge lapdog for Da Rules, even going off about how not following them would lead to madness. But we learn one very, very important thing about Juandissimo in "Remy Rides Again"... which is that Juandissimo openly broke Da Rules to return Remy's memories.
He's very clear about this: "I decided to help you no matter what Da Rules say, so I gave you back your memories." Because he loved him... and he knew Remy's situation wouldn't get any better if he sat and did nothing. The godparenting program and Jorgen weren't going to help, so Juandissimo - who LOVES Da Rules - broke them.
We know Juandissimo returned those memories while Remy was on the island. That suggests Remy's parents had no intention to return to Dimmsdale... and presumably, they also didn't care Remy was missing school.
We know Remy got real clothes again at some point on the island, and we can assume he had food and a bed because his mom opened a luxury resort, but there's more a child needs... Schooling, medical care, social interaction with peers... everything about that situation just screams neglect. Serious neglect. "We literally do not care" levels of neglect.
Even when Remy's parents do return to Dimmsdale and care about his schooling again, they send him to a military school full of older kids and adults. And that seems at least a little reasonable on the surface - After all, Remy's been a brat, so of course they'd send him to a school for ne'er-do-wells - but that begs the question...
... What has he ever done to upset his parents?
Remy's envy leads him to be rude, sure. And he's presumably committing some kind of fraud or deception crimes in the background due to the implication in "The Big Bash" that he bribes people with checks, but puts stops on them later so they don't go through. These are things that happened when he was doing magical stuff away from home.
But all signs point to him being extremely respectful towards his parents even when they're very dismissive of him... even when he's been placed in terrible, scary situations like being shipwrecked on an uncharted island, not knowing if they'll survive. Remy is polite, does what he's told, never talks back, and volunteers to find food.
It's almost worse that his dad acknowledged Remy finding food was a good idea and still didn't lend a hand in that. The Buxaplentys are such concerning people, and that's just my recap of things that happened in Season 2 and Season 5.
According to Season 9's "Country Clubbed," Remy's dad hits "classless saps" with his limo on purpose every month - which sounds horrible even without the next part - and he does that so he has an excuse to invite them to the Fancy Schmancy Country Club and he and his friends can mock them (under the guise of allowing them access to the club in exchange for them not suing). He heavily implies he'd like to hit Timmy later since he didn't get him while hitting his parents.
That's really messed up... WHAT is going on in the Buxaplenty parents' heads?
The only slightly relieving thing from that statement is that presumably, they don't run over Remy because we can assume Remy isn't a "classless sap," but I don't think "choosing not to run your son over because he shares your wealth" is a real point in their favor.
I make no claims that Dale is a fantastic parent, but the weird thing is... I don't think Dale is outside the range of how other subpar parents in the FOP universe act. Except the Buxaplentys- They're pretty much the lowest of the low.
There are so many concerning things going on in the Dimmadome house, like terrible safety rails, and Dale does cut his son off, dehumanize him, and make him feel unwanted. This is all true.
But at least Dale knows Dev's name and calls him that. It's very possible he's aware of Dev's lactose intolerance (seeing as Dev had to get his allergy card from somewhere). At least Dale provided the au pairs to look after Dev and gave them the ability to cook and recognize when he wants a hug. Even if Dale doesn't go out of his way to hug Dev, he seems to like him enough that he's happy to clap a hand to his shoulder and talk to him. At least he seems interested in talking to him and hearing about his day.
Dale even tries to get Dev outside, but didn't snap at Dev when Dev lay down to play his game instead in "Stanky Danky." That was their father-son thing, though it would've been easy to leave Dev at home.
Dale arguably took charge of Dev's care during that event, seeing as the au pairs don't hover around Dev. idk if Dale made his 9-year-old walk home himself across a very busy road while he chased after Danky, but that's not the point.
The implication is that Dev tags along on Dale's walks to Signal Hill - and has done so many times - because Dev knows Dale's calls drop up there. It's implied Dev plays on that hill when his dad is on a call because Dev knows the grass makes you itchy if you roll down it. He'd probably played there recently since that was the first place to come to mind during the treasure hunt with Hazel, and he remembered the itchiness of the grass.
Dale even makes donations to Dev's school, which is more than the Buxaplentys ever did (See also, Remy likely missing school while shipwrecked).
Remy could die and his parents probably wouldn't spend a cent on his funeral... or get his name right in a eulogy without a lot of note-checking and effort. In fact, it wouldn't shock me if they hid his death so no one found out, because a dead son would be bad press.
Actually... It's very sad to imagine them putting more effort into hiding Remy's death than into caring for his life.
Shout-out to Chapter 10 of the 'fic "Buy Me Love" by DeliverUsFromEvie where Remy addresses two mansion employees by name, but they're confused to find out their boss has a kid and that said kid has been in the house this whole time. I think about it constantly. hey. what on earth.
This 'fic has one of the most brutal interpretations of Remy I've ever seen, and Evie has this and several other awesome works, so consider checking them out!
All of this said, there's something else that's interesting here, so let's talk "Turner Back Time."
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I can't stop thinking about how when Timmy wished his ancestor (Ebeneezer) had decided to work with trains rather than dismissing them, that led to a timeline where the following things happened:
- Timmy's Dad still married his beloved Timmy's Mom (lol). Yeah, you're not prying him away from the love of his life for anything.
- Dimmsdale fell to ruin because Timmy's Dad wouldn't play the Rich People game right (Supporting the city's growth) and instead opted to drive trains off the tracks and crash them through buildings.
- The Turners lived in a mansion, but Timmy's bedroom is exactly the same, presumably because in the timeline where his family's rich, he needed a safe space untouched by his parents' branding.
- Despite Timmy's effort to become miserable, Dad kept showering him with affection and toys, so Timmy didn't qualify for fairies until he was tied to railroad tracks with a train hurtling towards him.
- The first thing Timmy did in his attempt to become miserable enough to qualify for fairies was decide not to eat... Same energy as when he felt guilty and refused to sleep in Season 1 ("Dream Goat").
There is something here about Timmy's Dad ignoring the train system, but being attentive to his son, while the Buxaplentys ignore their son, but Dimmsdale isn't in ruins.
I'll say 1 and only 1 positive thing about the Buxaplentys: At least their trains are on the tracks instead of careening through hospital walls. Honestly, the bar is so low, it is below the floor.
Timmy's Dad became a greedy person in that timeline, but he still chose to marry someone of lower social status, have a son, and be kind to his son- He's happy to greet him, encourages him to enjoy their wealth, and gifts Timmy lots of nice things. In that timeline, it's the Turners who have generational wealth. Dad was raised by generations of Turners and he still makes time for Timmy. Come on, Buxaplentys... Is it THAT hard to speak to your son like you're happy he exists?
Closing Thoughts
The Buxaplentys are definitely an old money family while the Dimmadomes and Ed Leadly give off new money energy (to me).
Neither Doug nor Ed was seen at the Fancy Schmancy Country Club in S9's "Country Clubbed." All the people who were there have names that play on wealth. They also dress in a much more "upper class" way than Leadly with his flashy yellow suit or Doug with his Southern/Western theme.
The Dimmadomes represent business-related wealth and big company vibes, and I'd call them eccentric. Compare Doug's precariously perched cliffside estate (S3's "Engine Blocked") to Remy's telescope-
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I really hope he decorates that hat for the holidays
The energy I get from this is "Doug doing whatever he wants just because he can"... which is also the impression I get from the "Crock Talk" scene that shows his hat stretching through the limo roof. Doug does business things and hosts events, but keeps to himself unless he's doing business things.
Comparatively, Leadly is all-in on his pencil branding, and the Buxaplentys flaunt their wealth in everyday life. As in, they buy the most expensive version of anything they want and like to showcase their wealth.
But while Doug and Dale have "Do what I want" energy, the Buxaplentys seem more restricted by social expectation.
That is, the Buxaplentys dress very nice and dine with fancy people- even their 11-year-old wears a tux, bowtie, and cummerbund. Buxaplentys are very "Flaunt wealth & do what people expect of us." They don't go out of their way to do "silly, eccentric" things like putting a hat on their mansion, but they sure will buy golden, diamond-studded things.
Well, that wraps up my analysis on Dimmsdale's wealthy families, who each intrigue and frighten me in their own unique ways... whether that be money laundering, holding back a magical forest, or being absolutely awful parents.
Thanks for reading!
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newtonsheffield · 6 months ago
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If married Kanthony were so beautiful I can't even begin to imagine how delightful papa Anthony is going to be. Any snippets off the top of your head for the love of our collective lives Molly?
Oh he’s going to be absolutely unbearable as a new Papa.
Imagine him fluttering about Kate like a worried mother goose, constantly trying to get Kate a cushion for the small of her back or a stool for her feet and after his son is born he is… unbearable.
“You need to let your family in.” Kate hummed, both of them staring down at the baby between them, her lips pressed to Anthony’s forehead and her hand shook as her finger traced the brow of their newborn son, sleeping already. “I know your mother will be anxious.”
Kate’s own mother had left just moments ago, kissing her daughter’s brow with a soft What a beautiful boy, well done darling.
Anthony huffed, his chest tight as he stared at his son. His son. He was a father now. Responsible for this boy who was nestled between him and Kate. He’d thought so much about children when he’d decided to marry. It had even been the main reason he’d set his mind to do it. An heir, that was all he needed and instead he had found Kate and he’d begun to long for children in an entirely different way. He wanted more of Kate. He wanted to see her mischievous smile on a child they’d made together and watch them grow and learn. And now they had a son. He had a thick shock of dark hair falling on his brow, his chubby little fist tight around Anthony’s finger but Anthony had been so terrified that something would go wrong. Right until the baby’s loud cries had split the afternoon, and the midwife had crowed.
“A very healthy boy, Lady Bridgerton. Well done.”
Anthony hadn’t been able to take his eyes off their son as the baby had been presented to him, even before he’d been given to Kate. Anthony had sat back on the bed, gently manoeuvring the baby so he was cradled between them, resting his forehead against Kate’s “He’s so beautiful, Love. Thank you, thank you.”
They were still there now.
“Let them be anxious another moment.”
Kate let out a tired chuckle, “Go on. We can watch him all night.”
Anthony sighed, passing Edmund to Kate before he stood from the bed, kissing his wife gently. “Prepare yourself, I suppose.”
He opened the door and slipped out himself, unsurprised to find his mother right outside and Benedict trying a little halfheartedly to keep her from barging in. “Mama, perhaps you’d like to meet your grandson.”
She rushed forward, wrapping him tightly in her arms, “Oh, Darling. Congratulations.”
Benedict clapped him on the shoulder as he lead them into the room, “A tiny Viscount after all!”
“Oh, Kate.” His mother had already pushed her way over to the bed, peering down at Edmund while Anthony rolled his eyes at his brother. “He’s so precious. Anthony frowned just the same way when he was a baby.”
“Would you like to hold Edmund?”
They’d decided on the name months ago now, Kate so Adamant that they were having a boy and his chest felt tight as his mother swallowed thickly, nodding.
“I’d love to.”
Anthony watched as she took the baby gently from Kate, her hands shaking.
“Mother, please be gentle! He’s only little, support his head.”
“Yes, thank you, Anthony.” His mother sighed, “I did have eight children myself.”
“I was born quite a while ago.”
“And babies don’t change!”
“We were nearly having a nice moment there.” Benedict mused from the doorway, inclining his head to Kate, “Congratulations on the tiny Anthony. As someone who remembers him as a child; I’m sorry for the chaos that’s about to unfold.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Kate smiled, winking at Benedict.
“I don’t like the two of you ganging up on me.”
“I don’t think we care, brother. Mother, let me hold my nephew, please. I need to begin corrupting him.”
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lookingfts · 3 months ago
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Friday Fic Rec 9/6
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Thanks for your submissions! Here are the recs for our first week. (Titles are links to each fic)
All the magic we made by @iwishyouwouldstop
"I'm always shocked this fic doesn't have 1000 kudos. It's so damn good."
Description: Kate and Anthony grow up together, learn to harness their magic together and are certain nothing can tear them apart. Until something does. Now they are strangers who occasionally publicly humiliate each other in between finding means to survive in a world that is increasingly hostile to their kind. Then Anthony commits the ultimate betrayal and Kate's retribution results in a life-threatening curse that forces them to work together.
Status: WIP (18/?) Rating: E
Love Doesn't Burn. by magicalmenagerie
"This fic isn’t finished, and the author hasn’t updated it since 2023, but it’s still one of my favorites. I love how it mixes the past and the present, and how the two characters were involved during the worst phase of their lives and then reconnect when they’re more mature."
Description: Anthony is trying to forget his past. Kate is trying to remember as much as possible. They’re both too young to know what they fall into is not love. Until much later, they finally do. (A second chances au riddled with miscommunication, infatuation, and incomprehensible philosophical musings)
Status: WIP (11/14) Rating: E
The Hope That Keeps You and One Last Weekend by @helenakwayne
"They have very different vibes but they’re both soo good and I think they’re less known fics in the fandom. I would say read the hope that keeps you if you’re looking for something more fun and fluffy, and one last weekend if you want angst (with a happy ending of course)."
Description: The Hope That Keeps You: Kate Sharma loves football because her father loved a certain West London club, so she made it her job. Anthony Bridgerton loves football because his father loved a certain West London club, so he bought it—or at least some of it. They’re all supporting the same side, so there should be nothing but harmony, right? It’s not like they unnecessarily complicate everything for no reason.
One Last Weekend: On the weekend of Simon Basset’s and Daphne Bridgerton’s wedding, Anthony Bridgerton and Kathani Sharma try to finally get what they both need after years of pursuing what they thought they wanted.
Status: Both Complete Rating: E
I'd Give All I Have, Honey (If You Could Stay Like That) by @newtonsheffield
"23 year old Anthony is a himbo and causes a LOT of tears for Kate but ends perfectly."
Description: The one constant in Anthony Bridgerton's life was Kate Sharma. They'd spent their entire childhoods together, she was as part of him that could never leave him. But the time to grow up came sooner than he thought it would. And he doesn't know why the sight of men queueing outside the Sharma's townhouse makes him sick to his stomach.
Status: Complete Rating: T
LFTS rec: A Devil's Love by FormerlyIR
Someone asked me about a mafia fic recently, and my mind went straight to this masterpiece. I had to reread it and honestly - it was even better than I remembered. Crazy hot passion wrapped in the most creative, evocative prose.
Description: When Kate's sister goes missing, she gets herself a waitress job at the Pebble Lounge to track her down, working under London’s seedy underbelly to find the only person she has left in this world to love. And Anthony Bridgerton? No matter how alluring and distracting he may be, he’s just a means to an end, his life defined by his family business built on corruption. Kate won’t dance to that tune. She’s just trying to find her sister.
Status: Complete Rating: E
Thanks for your submissions! This will be a weekly thing, so keep your recs coming, and I'm open to suggestions about the format!
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ssentimentals · 2 months ago
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f1 pairings as famous love tropes: fernando alonso x lance stroll
bad guy x good boy (mafia!AU)
'and you don't even know that even the echo of your footsteps is enough to have my heart racing'
fernando glances at the man in front of him and wrinkles his nose in disgust. pathetic men making questionable decisions and refusing to be held accountable for them always ticked him off since the very young age, made his fists itch with desire to break their faces. or show them their place, which, as he learned later in life, was on their knees in front of him with hands tied up and face swollen with bruises. they look good like that and sick satisfaction coursing through his veins is a solid enough proof that he's doing everything right. fernando likes to think of himself as of a messenger from god of sorts; and if more often than not some people need to receive that message in the form of execution then, well, it's not his fault. people always bring their doom to themselves with their own hands, afterall.
'please,' a hoarse rasp interrupts his thoughts. 'i beg you, just give me one more week. i'll get the money, i will-'
'same old, same old,' fernando muses, shaking his head. 'i gave you one month, no? one month is very generous, my friend. i gave you one month and you go and rat everything out to my enemies.' he watches with a predator smile as man in front of him starts trembling, crying out when one of fernando's men pull on the ropes tighter. 'what did you tell them, hm?'
fernando knows it's not very easy to talk after you've been choked and beaten up but his sympathy is non-existent for liars and cheaters. he leans back on his chair, watching with mild entertainment as man tries to force the words out of his mouth. right side of his face is swollen disproportionally and fernando is about to suggest to one of his men to fix that when his phone buzzes. everything stills instantly. as fernando slowly pulls his phone out, one of his guards is quickly pulling tape out, covering mouth of the man in front, already knowing very well that there's only one person in this world for who his boss has a ringtone on. everyone moves swiftly, making no sound and also making sure that man in front also doesn't make any as they drag him to another room, locking door after themselves to give their boss privacy they know he needs.
'si, mi amor.' fernando answers, his smooth baritone a complete opposite to sharp and edged way he spoke before.
'nando!' excited and a little shy giggle carries from the other side and fernando relaxes on his seat, smiling. 'how are you? sorry for calling that abruptly, are you busy?'
'never for you.' fernando is never this honest with anyone but it's worth being like that with lance. he can picture perfectly a rosy blush adorning his cheeks right now, knows his little world is biting his lower lip right now to stop himself from smiling widely. fernando wishes he could be there to pull that plump bottom lip out and be the one to bite it instead. he appeases himself with knowledge of being able to do this very soon. 'what is it, lancito?'
'i just learned that my next class was cancelled so i'm free right now. i thought maybe we can meet up earlier than our initial time, so wanted to check it with you.' lance voice is a wave of gentleness for fernando, the one in which he swims with eyes closed and heart well rested. 'but um- it's okay if you can't! i know you're busy at work, so-'
'i'll be there.' fernando interrupts without thinking twice. 'you are at your uni, yes? i'll come pick you up.'
'are you sure?' lance always asks this and fernando sometimes wants to laugh from the absurdity of it all, from how lance thinks he's not his priority which is the furthest thing from truth. 'i mean, it's fine if you can't, i will wait-'
'lance,' fernando's tone is still gentle (it always is, with lance) but firm, making it clear that this is not up for discussion. 'i will pick you up. in thirty minutes, cariño. okay?'
lance's breath hitches on the other side. fernando knows it's all new for him, knows he's never been in relationship with an older man or more specifically, someone like fernando. but lance forgets that it's all new for fernando as well. he's never been in a serious relationship before, never had anyone's photos on his phone, never had someone for whom he's ready to cross all the borders and bring down the moon. maybe his new and lance's new are different, but fernando hopes that in time lance will stop asking him if he's sure and will start demanding for fernando to put his work aside and come pick him up.
'okay.' lance's voice is small but fernando can hear his smile. 'i can buy us something here to eat? do you want anything?'
contrary to popular belief, fernando does have a heart. and it squeezes in his chest right now, filled with enormous affection for the most beautiful boy. by instinct, fernando's hand rises up and he lightly scratches at his blazer right above his heart, smiling. god, if only lance knew. 'no, mi amor. can you wait or are you very hungry? i will take you out to a good place.'
good place, the best place. lance belongs in louvre with all the other world's most precious forms of art but fernando is selfish, possessive and not good, so he'll keep him to himself. he glances at the clock and quickly straightens up, realizing that he might get into traffic if he doesn't go now.
'well, i am a bit hungry-'
'twenty minutes,' fernando cuts in, already moving. 'wait for me, princesa.'
'don't call me that!' lance shrieks but it's with glee and excitement and maybe something else that fernando wants to explore once they are all alone. he laughs and his laugh is- fernando knows he's done many bad things, but lance's laugh is a remedy for it all. 'okay-okay, i'll wait. but not too long, yeah? hurry up, old man!'
fernando can't even be offended with that. lance feeling comfortable enough to call him that, lance knowing he can tell him to 'hurry up!' and acting like a petulant child - fernando will wait patiently for the day when lance realizes the power he has over him. he has people shaking in fear at the sound of his name, there are hundreds of people at his deck, ready to do anything for him and then there's lance. lance, who's not afraid of fernando, who falls into his arms like they are the safest place in the world, who looks up at fernando like he's something to be worshipped. fernando is sure that he's been giving to him from god for all his good work on being the messenger. 'i'm on my way.'
'drive safe.' lance says like always and like always it feels like a warm blanket on fernando's shoulders. 'see you soon, nando.'
'see you, amor.'
he needs few seconds to wipe the smile off his face and take a steadying breath for his heart to go back to normal. he allows himself one more moment of weakness - stares a bit at the pretty photo of lance set on his backscreen, the one where he's holding a puppy and is looking down at it with the softest expression on his face. he smiles at it once and then quickly slides phone back to his pocket, opening the door. two men instantly straighten up and nod, waiting for the instructions. fernando thinks of how much time he'll spend with lance, remembers his upcoming midterms and resigns himself for only being able to snatch him for few hours. 'keep him here, make sure he's all ready to give answers by nine.'
two curts nods and he walks away, swirling car keys in his fingers. nothing in his face betrays the excitement he feels at the prospect of seeing lance soon but mark, his designated driver, only chuckles and readily gives away car keys, opening door for his boss. 'i figured it's about lance, seeing how you went out so early. should stay here or you want me to backtrail after you?'
'stay here.'
fernando doesn't like anyone being anywhere near him once he's with lance, knows no one is bold enough to go after him on the broad daylight. his black aston martin attracts all of the attention as he speeds through the streets, turning twenty minutes into fourteen as he parks in front of the university. he immediately notices his boyfriend - god, he never thought he'd even have one - and lance runs to him with a huge smile on his face. he quickly crosses the road and jumps into the car, all bright and smiley, leaning over to plant a small peck on fernando's lips. if fernando could, he'd wrap his hand around lance's neck and bring him back, slot his mouth more firmly against his to take the kiss he patiently waited for but he knows lance wants to be more discreet and fernando is nothing but accomodating when it comes to his beautiful boy.
'that was fast,' lance comments, settling comfortably on the seat. 'fourteen minutes instead of twenty. did you speed?'
'not at all, mi vida.' fernando lies, smiling at the way lance rolls his eyes. his hand reaches out and lance meets him halfway, interlacing their fingers together. 'you are hungry, yes?'
'starving! do you know what happened today? so this professor-'
fernando smiles and lets lance talk as he drives them to his favorite place. lance gets so animated once they are alone, his shy exterior breaks in two to let his true self shine and fernando wants to protect this with his life. the way lance looks at him, how he doesn't hesitate to let fernando in, the way he wants him - fernando knows a blessing when he sees one and lance is exactly that. automatically, fernando brings their clasped hands to his mouth and kisses lance's knuckles gently, smiling at the slight stutter in younger's speech.
'sap,' lance says and from his mouth it sounds suspiciously like i love you.
fernando only nods, not saying anything back. only kisses his hand once more for good measure and lets them rest on his thigh. i love you, he thinks, turning to cast a glance at lance. i will love you forever.
a/n: so this was meant to end in another way but i got distracted :/ anyways, fully blaming my obsession with them on @ace-race-ace and @wintergreenoreo. i didn't even care about these two when i got into f1, but then i found their blogs and...yeah. thank you for your content!! it inspired me to write this <3 - nini
my other f1 works are here
my seventeen works are here
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endomentendo · 28 days ago
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How did you learn to draw the way you do now
It took me more than 15 years in order to get where I am today. And looking back, I’m still learning.
What helped me out the most has definitely been lots of YouTube and dedication in getting better.
Artists like Ethan Becker, Sergio Pablos, Rebbeca Sugar, jack burke, etc etc, helped me out in learning. Specifically Ethan Becker taught me some industry cheats he’s learned and uses in his own art. Showing how you can learn something just by actively studying.
An explanation: don’t trace what you see, trace what you want to know. Learn how your favorite character design is made during production and use some of those techniques in your own work.
Once you’ve used trial and error, use it again and again but leave room for improvement.
But there’s also artists like Sergio Pablos who worked on big films like Tarzan and Klaus; he taught me how to have somewhat of a flexible artstyle. In the animation industry, you’re not gonna use an artstyle besides the animation style you’re assigned to.
It taught me to feel more loose in my own works and wanting to try and tackle different styles in my own original stories.
But the biggest help to me, is learning with friends. I love learning things about them from what they’re into, and cherishing our moments together.
Watching them draw is also fun and useful since you can learn tactics you never seen or heard. Maybe even giving you the motivation to draw something similar to them, inspiring you further and further. It’s wonderful to as you both can teach and learn something from one another.
But the most important part, is time and patience. I’m still learning and growing both as an artist and as a person.
My friends and family taught me more than art, they taught me love and compassion, giving me moments that inspire me more than cartoons or stories.
Because unlike those tales of gun-swords or nonsensical creatures, the real experience is those you cherish with. They teach you things that not every story can accomplish.
They are the real passion. The real muse. Positive or negative is inevitable, but it’s still beautiful to experience either way as both an artist and human being.
If you want to be an artist… don’t let envy or jealousy ruin your relationship, just so you can accomplish something that should be seen more as a hobby. Love those who care for you as much as you care for them.
And know it’s okay to not always get where you want. The real art is you. We are all clay made to form or destroy, and it’s better to learn the craft to make something true and gorgeous.
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