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#I was proud of it and that’s the most important thing
5sospenguinqueen · 1 day
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Post Tension | Charles Leclerc x McLaren! Reader
Summary: Back in the same country, Charles realises that the most important thing isn't winning; it's that he was wrong.
Warnings: Swearing, female reader, Verstappen! Reader. Tooth-rotting fluff.
This is the final part!
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3
Main Masterlist
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by arthur_leclerc, kellypiquet and others
YourUserName something in the orange tells me we're not done
7,956 comments
User 1 excuse me, miss thing?!?!
User 2 not miss verstappen posting this on media day when charles and her were spotted in the background of each other's interviews
francisca.cgomes that silhoutte pic is serving 🔥
User 3 just me or does that bear have a ferrari hoodie on
User 4 he is not the love of your life. he is literally just a guy. hit him with your car
→ User 1 nah 'cause does anyone else think charles would run her off the track if she got ahead of him again
→ User 5 wtf that's his girlfriend? he wouldn't try and hurt her
→ User 6 he did push max in a puddle once
lilymhe @ alex_albon why don't you buy me this stuff
→ alex_albon because you don't support McLaren
→ YourUserName excuse me?!?! what is this betrayal
→ lilymhe @ YourUserName i can explain
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User 7 mum and dad putting those cheating rumours to rest
User 8 y/n a stronger woman than me because i would've keyed his car for implying i was sleeping with my teammate
→ User 9 actually it was arthur who implied that
→ User 10 don't drag baby leclerc into this. he was fighting in the trenches alongside us for his otp
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scuderiaferrari just posted
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liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and others
scuderiaferrari P4 and P8. A strong weekend for the tifosi 💪
tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55
6,459 comments
User 9 i can't decide what i want to ride more
User 10 scoring some points in azerbaijan. well done, team
charles_leclerc why are you not posting the photos of me being #1 wag
→ YourUserName because this account doesn't post papaya, liefje
→ charles_leclerc no excuse
→ lilymhe because you are not #1 wag, clearly i am the only wag for @ YourUserName
→ charles_leclerc defamation
→ YourUserName @ lilymhe you tell 'em, bby
→ alex_albon i leave you alone for two seconds and you're stealing my girlfriend again
User 11 be still my beating heart
mclaren just posted
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liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and others
mclaren P3 and P5. roll on the points for team papaya (ft mclaren's #1 wag)
tagged: YourUserName
7,321 comments
mclaren we apologise for interrupting your regularly scheduled papaya posts with a splash of red but you'll never guess who this racer was looking at to make him smile like that
→ maxverstappen1 sickening
→ charles_leclerc i am honoured to be awarded such a prestigious title by team mclaren
→ landonorris does this mean i can stop pretending to like y/n now?
→ charles_ leclerc @ landonorris no
→ YourUserName @ landonorris no. you're my emotional support pookie
User 11 so proud of our papayas. they did so good this weekend
User 12 i'd let y/n hit me with her car
liked by charles_leclerc
victoriaverstappen couldn't be prouder of you! 💕
maxverstappen1 just posted
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liked by victoriaverstappen, kellypiquet and others
maxverstappen1 a disappointing dnf but very pleased for the less-famous verstappen 🧡
8,066 comments
redbullracing still made us proud. we'll come back stronger in france
kellypiquet well done y/n. p was cheering you on
→ YourUserName tell her i'm coming over for a pizza party soon! 🥰
YourUserName i swear he loves me really, guys
→ charles_leclerc well he threatened to run me off the track if i didn't fix things so i'd say he does
→ maxverstappen1 for legal reasons, this is a joke
→ YourUserName ah, so that's why you apologised. not because of your undying love for me
landonorris feel like that should say the more talented verstappen
liked by YourUserName, charles_leclerc
danielricciardo don't let this fool you. the man was close to tears when y/n was p1 with just one lap to go
→ danielricciardo and then cried when her tire burst
→ danielricciardo and then cried when she finished p3
→ maxverstappen1 i'll sue you for defemation
→ User13 the Grid seemed to have learned a new word this week
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YourUserName just posted
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others
YourUserName ik houd van je
tagged: charles_leclerc
6,124 comments
charles_lecerlc je sais
→ YourUserName never going to let me forget that one, are you
→ charles_leclerc no
→ maxverstappen1 no
→ danielricciardo no
→ landonorris no
→ arthur_leclerc no
→ pierregasly no
→ victoriaverstappen no
→ lilymhe no
YourUserName how about everybody get off my dick
→ YourUserName my only friends here are the lovely ladies thirsting over my hot boyfriend with me
→ User 14 you tell 'em, honey
charles_leclerc just posted
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liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others
charles_lecerlc as the people on twitter say, i would let y/n hit me with her car
8,593 comments
maxverstappen1 my eyes 🤮
→ charles_leclerc look away! i was going to block you for this
→ maxverstappen1 block me forever
YourUserName wow, not even a tag.
→ charles_leclerc everyone knows who you belong to, mon amour
→ YourUserName yeah, the guy who invented ice cream
→ landonorris @ charles_leclerc at least you know what to do if the racing thing doesn't work out
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Thank you for all the support shown on this series. I never expected such a response when I posted my silly little fic.
I've had so much fun making these. I have a few more ideas coming up but not loads so if you have any, please do request and I'll try my best to do them justice! <3
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Tag list: @mehrmonga @luvsforme @lemon-lav @missenclod @halleest @formula1mount @k4marina @evie-119 @letmeseeyougotowork @sleepybrokenmelle @eiaaasamantha @tinyhrry @janeholt3 @allywthsr @callsignwidow @raizelchrysanderoctavius @prudyhoo @valentinanappipage @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @delululeclerc @e-nonsense @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @butterfliesflyaroundmymind @bloodyymaryyy @kqliie @lifeless-firefly @woozarts @silverxxs-world @personwhoisther @eugene-emt-roe @anthonykatebridgerton @qualitygiantshoepsychic @entr4p3 @carpediem241108 @forevercaffeinated-lee @xyzstar @theendofthematerialgworl @geniusalpaca @chfiosr
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luvaurae · 2 days
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Simon “ghost” Riley x reader 🫶🏼
This is my first tumblr post, go easy on me 🙏 I’m not sure how it sounds or if I like it or not, sorry if there’s typos ‼️
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You and Simon had been together for about 6 months now. Normally Simon was deployed and sent away to work for 3-4 months (depending on the job.) which wasn’t the best. You always had to sit in your little yet cozy apartment without his presence, and sometimes when you needed him most, he wasn’t there. When you were in the shower, he wasn’t standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist. When you were in bed, he wasn’t spooning you and keeping you warm. When you cooked dinner, you had no one to serve it to except yourself. Obviously you loved him, but it was so hard to get up for your own work in the morning without him groaning and saying things like - “..five more minutes luv’ .” Or “.. jus’ call work n tell em ya sick, please dove?”. But you knew his job was important, and it helped the both of them with rent and food shopping.
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As you jangled your keys into your doorknob, trying your best to shove it in as your eyes fluttered open and shut. You had just been on a six-hour shift at work and felt as if you were going to pass out every time you moved any part of your body. Eventually you managed to open up your apartment door, shutting it and locking it behind you without even turning back. You dropped your bag to the floor next to your shoe rack before making your way into bed, taking off your coat as you do so. You awkwardly rub your eyes before hopping into bed with your work t-shirt and your panties, pulling the blanket up trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. As soon as your head hits your pillow, you’re out cold. Snoring, not so quietly. You’re positive the whole of the building can hear it.
It was about 5:05pm.
You woke up to the sound of your door opening. It couldn’t be Simon, could it?.. he told you another week? He texted you and said specifically “captain said another week lovie, I’m sorry.” You shot up from your bed, not making a creak. You tiptoed into your closet, where a wooden bat had been lying against the wall (it was the one your dad gave you before you moved out.) you wrapped your hands around the handle as you opened your door, slowly yet carefully. Sweat building up within your palms, yet your grip on the bat extremely hard. You manage to tiptoe out of your room, the rest of your apartment still dark as you heard sounds coming from your kitchen. You gripped the bat with two hands before running into the kitchen and swinging it at the figures head, you told yourself you got a pretty good hit. Yet as the light from the refrigerator shines on the figure.. it was Simon. Of course it was.
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“I’m so sorry baby. I didn’t know it was you.” I say shakily pressing a cold freezer pack wrapped in a cloth onto Simon’s head as he rested on our bed.
“Don’t be sorry dove. At least I know ya know how to protect ya self’” Simon’s says in his deep British accent, giving off a small chuckle at the end. I felt horrible, yet at the same time proud. And honestly it felt a little good to get him back for not having much time to spend with me.
“How come your back so early? And why didn’t you text me?” I say pulling away the ice pack from his head and placing it on my side table as I now tuck myself beside him in our bed.
“I dunno, and I knew i shou’ve but I didn’t want to disturb my Angel in er’ beauty sleep.” Simon gives another chuckle. God sometimes I had forgotten how beautiful he was. I smile at him as my head rested against the pillow, now just staring at him as I take in his features. For a moment I was in my own world, just thinking about how gorgeous he was.
“I missed you.” I say in a slightly tired and grumbled voice as I snap out of my trance and close my eyes.
“I missed you too, luv.” Simon gives me a soft peck on my shoulder before turning off the lamp and spooning me, sliding his arm underneath mine and pulling me close to him so that his warmth radiated me.
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elsa-fogen · 13 hours
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what do you think about the fact that al likes doodling?
i have a head canon that he has some sort of scrapbook or sketchbook full of little doodles of things going on at the hotel and just in his life, I feel like he would draw really stick-figureish (is that a word?) but I read a fic that depicted it as the same art style as an Invader-Zim obsessed scene girl and I could not stop cackling.
I also feel like he would either guard it with his life from everyone (exception to Rosie, of course) or just not bother to tell anyone and one day they just find him doodling schoolgirl style, kicking his legs in the air, LMAO NEW THOUGHT WHAT IF CHARLIE OR LUCIFER FOUND IT
OH! OH! Now that you mentioned it - i LOVE that about him! I just absolutely ADORE little thing he made for the add in the first episode. And i love this fact because 1) he's the first character i like that likes to draw canonically (okay maybe also toothless from httyd?) 2) Me and Alastor share so many similarities, and even drawing???? This just makes me love him even more (i'm sure we would hate each other irl tho AHAHHAHAHA or maybe not, idk)
SO, SINCE ME AND AL ARE SO SIMILAR, I'M GONNA PROJECT ON HIM MY DRAWING HABITS >:3c Forgive me this one, i usualy don't do that, i usualy project characters on myself haha
He DOES have sketchbooks just to draw, and they are ORGANISED. He's numbers every sketchbook and counts every drawing in them since the first one. He also has two numbers for each page - through one sketchbook and through them all. He has over 300 of sketchbooks by now (I have less, only 56). They are stashed somewhere in a very safe place.
Every sketchbook has a date of first and last drawing. Also amount of drawings. It looks like: NOTEBOOK 253 (number of sketchbook, also he doesn't call them sketchbooks) 03.06.1978-05.07.1978 (dates while it was active) 119 (amount of drawings) 29961-30080 (which numbers of drawings are in this sketchbook) He would cound something else, but he's just too busy to spend time on it. He can remember something thinking about what he was drawing in that period and vice versa
He used to draw at overlords meetings, pissing off Carmila and everyone else, because it looked like he hadn't listened to them, so Carmila banned drawing at overlords meetings (Alastor is still angry about it)
But he doesn't progress too much - most of his progress was made through first 10-20 sketchbooks, now he only has slight style changes sometimes when he feels like it
Tho he's really proud of his current skill and used to think that he's literally the best (used to get angry when reminded that it's not true) (now he kinda knows, but still likes his own drawings, doesn't accept criticism and doesn't try to purposely improve)
He likes showing his drawings to people, he knows and if he does, you have to say that it's literally So Cool, show enthusiasm turning pages and say that everything is just amazing. If you don't, he'll be OFFENDED. He also can leave a sketchbook opened on a page with a drawing he likes the most, and it's like a sign "NOTICE THAT I'M DRAWING AND SAY THAT YOU LIKE IT"
If he considers you a friend (well not like Rosie, but at least like Charlie), he'll be showing you his drawings regularly (and you have to be enthusiastic about it!!!!!!) He has showed it to Charlie, but somehow her enthusiasm is... too much. She's too patronising about it. He also shows his things to Husk, he knows that Husk is annoyed and doesn't give a shit, and he just enjoys his annoyance. He also shows his drawings to Niffty and she gives him Just Right amount and vibe of enthusiasm. (He sometimes draws something for her fanfiction if he likes something enough and enjoys Niffty's reaction (she explodes from happiness)). BUT!!!!! He never shows anything to Mimzy. Because she's like, person from the real life, and he feels like she would laugh at it. To Rosie he shows only things he considers his best and her opinion is the most important to him. He can even forgive her criticism (wouldn't take it tho) (she never critisizes him and absolutely ADORES his drawings). Angel kinda likes his drawings, but isn't enthusiastic about them enough
He doesn't take requests (Angel tried "draw me like one of your french girls" shit, Alastor never did (also his ass did not get the reference and he was like "i dont??? have??? any french girls????")) (Vox also tried to make Alastor draw something for him, Alastor was just "that's interesting, i'll think about it" and never thought of it again)
SOME OF HIS DRWINGS TURNED OUT TO BE PROPHECIES but he notices that only when something happens and then he goes back to his old sketchbooks and accidentally finds it. They are just coincidenses tho, but it's fun and Alastor makes a big deal from it and screams to Rosie like "I PREDICTED THAT SHIT 27 YEARS AGO" when finds out. (it's how i predicted many plot points from SU and literally TOH hunter's possession before the show even was a thing JHJDFJHFGJFDHKH i wonder if i predicted something from Hazbin, i need to look through my sketchbooks now)
If you dare to mess with his drawings and vandalise them... oh... you better pray to whatever god you belive in to make your sufferings be enough to redeem your sins and go to heven.
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look-at-the-soul · 7 hours
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Every little thing you do - Part 6
Tommy Shelby x reader
Series master list
🥰So another part to this series, thank you so much for all your support and encouragement! It means the world ♥️ and as I take your feedback seriously, I can assure you Tommy will be looking for a housekeeper substitute 🤭
Word count: 3,138
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Y/N prayed silently her dress would close, Ada suggested getting it slightly loose at certain places just in case, because overnight, her belly was showing and most of her clothes wouldn’t fit anymore. It was funny because it only looked as if she was bloated but it was enough for a zipper to break.
“You ready?” Polly asked just as she knocked on the door, stepping in right away. As usual, she looked so elegant in her attire.
“Her dress is beautiful Mrs. Gray.” Y/N’s grandma pointed out making Y/N blush, she then turned to Polly. “And you look stunning.”
Polly nodded acknowledging her compliment.
“I can’t believe I’m wearing this gown.” Y/N stated staring at her reflection in the mirror, she looked like a completely different person with her hair up in a simple but elegant hairstyle, make up in just the right places, accenting her features, and the dress fit like a glove. She had never had a dress like this.
“You need something else though.” Her grandma suggested, she looked beautiful in her attire too, the Shelby family were too kind to extend an invitation for her.
Opening her bag, Y/N frowned confused by what she meant, she had everything already.
“Your grandfather gave me these when we got married.” From a velvet pouch, she produced a pair of gorgeous diamond studs.
“I think these will look beautiful.” Polly encouraged, feeling a swept of love by the exchange.
Y/N on the other hand felt lost for words, to some it might be a small detail, but to her, the sentimental value it’s what weighted the most.
“These are meant to be wear on occasions like this, right?” She asked holding one of the earrings for her granddaughter while she hooked the other one.
“Looks like you’re all set then… let’s welcome the guests.” Polly added taking grandma’s purse to help her. “Everything’s going accordingly so far.”
The music filled the big room, people were dancing happily, champagne flowing, staff filling empty cups with booze and plates with appetizers. Y/N felt particularly mesmerized by the chandeliers catching the light beautifully and reflecting all around as if it was dancing as well.
Tommy insisted the party should take place in Arrow House, said it would be a good excuse to do a grand opening, so she immediately got busy to have everything ready. The place oozed luxury everywhere she looked, the most important names in the country RSVP’ed faster than she thought. Never in her wildest dreams she imagined how it would turn out, she spent so much time choosing flowers for the center pieces, napkins colors to go with the tablecloths, tableware as well as the menu, days of hard work paying off finally on this night and for a brief instant, she allowed herself to feel proud because she took care meticulously of everything.
“I’ll be back in a minute, need an ashtray.” Polly announced and took grandma by the arm to chat for a while.
Y/N was taking everything in, still not fully believing it was a reality.
“Johnny, get everyone in the kitchen.” He instructed. “Five minu-“ words got caught up in his throat as he took a double look to his left and found Y/N standing by herself next to the staircase.
Her hair was pinned up, framing her face so it was fully on display instead of hiding, the dress made her look gorgeous but the cherry on top was the glowing emanating from within her heart, pregnancy was suiting her well. He then noticed she opened and closed the handbag nervously.
She wasn’t the same girl that used to run with him a race at an open fiel until they reached the river. He let her win so many times… yet that girl was somehow still in her.
He had never seen her like that before. She was more beautiful than he imagined.
But as soon as the thought entered his mind, Tommy kicked himself mentally. He shouldn’t think of her that way.
“Are you planning to give someone a heart attack?” He joked and took a few long strides to be at her side.
“I’m nervous,” she chuckled, “I’m the one having a heart attack.”
Turning around to face him, she felt her mouth going dry, the blue suit was a fabulous choice. It wasn’t traditional, but when she saw it at the tailor’s shop she knew Tommy had to wear it to the event and since she got a blank cheque, she added it to the account. He was so bloody handsome, but she thought that he looked even more that night. There, with a cocked smile and proud shining in his crystal eyes…
They stood there holding each other’s gazes, the people in the background fading away…
Until Johnny Dogs interrupted them.
“The boys are on their way Tom.” He nodded at Y/N. “Are we going, yeah?”
Tommy gave Y/N another look and she encouraged him with a smile to go.
He started to walk away, but then stopped abruptly and turning around he spoke; “Y/N you did an amazing job, thank you.”
Reaching his expectations was all Y/N wanted to achieve, to make him proud of her work. It was the way she knew in retribution to thank him for every little thing he did.
“And Johnny? Y/N told me she counted the paintings ey?” Tommy turned to give her wink. “So you better tell your kin they can’t steal anything or they’ll have to deal with a very pissed Y/N.”
Y/N gasped, of course she didn’t count the paintings. An evident blush covered her face and neck and she started shaking her head in embarrassment.
“Hey! That’s not true.” She tried to keep her manners, but her mind went back to when they were teenagers and her grandma discovered the two of them sneaking into the kitchen to get a slice of the pie she had baked and Tommy blamed it all on Y/N, the worst part is that her grandma believed him and scolded her granddaughter when it had been Tommy’s idea in the first place.
“Where are they, ey?” Tommy asked impatiently a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
“I’m telling you now, we got lost,” announced Arthur. “You really need to do a map, Thomas.”
“Right, boys you’re all here.” Tommy started in a warning tone.
The blinders gathered around him in a circle.
“Tonight it’s a fucking very important day, we’re celebrating the Arrow House grand opening.”
“Yeah, and you said there’d be no bloody uniforms.” Interrupted John.
Tommy shot him a death stare. “Nevertheless… nevertheless, John… despite the bad blood, I’ll have none of it on my carpet.”
They were part of the guest list.
He made a pause and looked around to his men. “Now, for Y/N’s sake, nothing will go wrong. She has worked so fucking hard for everything you see tonight and the Shelby Institute. And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything…”
“Tom?” Once more, John interrupted his brother.
“What?”
“What about snow?” Asked Isiah.
John replied something that Tommy couldn’t understand, but he felt his blood start boiling by their silly attitude.
“No, no, no.” He stood in front of the young blinder. “No cocaine.” Then pointing at his face, he repeated; “no cocaine. No sports.” He then moved to point at John. “No telling fortunes. No racing.” Walking back towards Finn, he continued. “No fucking sucking petrol of their fucking cars.”
He hated to admit it out loud, but he was nervous to. He wanted to fit in, he needed to blend in among the richest and more powerful people, to be one of them. To prove everybody that he had been able to claim a stair that was only reserved for those who were born in a crib made of gold.
Meanwhile, upstairs Y/N attended several guests, listening to the stories they were sharing about how much it would mean to them to donate and give back to the community. Some of them, Y/N learned were important politicians who wanted to show a good image to help them gain voters, others members of the aristocracy just wanted to show their wealthy off. Whatever reason they had, Y/N was excited to see some of the cheques they were writing right there for the institution, additional to a monthly donation they promised.
Finding Tommy among the guests, Y/N approached him to ask him if she could save the cheques in his office.
“Can we see this later?” He relief not even sending a glance in her direction, his eyes were fixed like daggers in someone.
As he moved around like a gazelle, about to chase his pry, Y/N noticed a group of women eating him with their eyes, looking him up and down, seizing his frame, biting their lips, probably wondering how would it feel to be with him….
Y/N felt like she was out of place, she shook her head and decided to ask Ada instead where she should keep the documents. She then excused herself for a moment, feeling like the happy bubble had been popped given Tommy’s cold attitude. He was never like this, he had never left her talking alone before, but he had been a bit off the last couple of days.
For some unknown reason.
Perhaps she had been creating a fantasy in her mind, yes he was a good man, but he also had an explosive temper when he wanted to, he snapped at people at the slightest provocation. Why would he treat her differently? Just because a she was pregnant?
A knock on the door disturbed the peace she just found, and without waiting to be asked to come inside, Tommy called her name.
“Y/N you’re needed downstairs.” Tommy informed her, but he knew her too damn well. When Ada told him that Y/N was taking a minute on her own, he knew she wasn’t comfortable about something.
“What happened?” He asked patiently. She shook her head, not wanting to make a scene. “Hey, hey.. come here.”
It was everything, her pregnancy, her nerves, the bloody hormones, mood swings, worry to make everything perfect… him.
“I hope you don’t take personally what happened earlier, I was looking for someone that wasn’t invited.” Tommy explained.
Y/N looked at him tentatively. She walked into the en-suite bathroom to wet a cloth and press it into the back of her neck, careful enough to not get a stain in the dress, he followed her steps and took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. The familiarity and comfort between them was too personal.
“Is this why you’ve been acting distant the last couple of days?”
With a sigh, he nodded. “Yes, I act like this when I’m scared.”
Y/N turned around pondering into his words, giving him time and space to speak on his own terms.
“I need to make sure you’re away from this business. I don’t want you to get involved at all. Do you understand?”
“Tommy what’s happening?” It all made sense to her now, the secret phone calls, the late night drives, his mood.
“The less you know, the better.” He cleared his throat. “Promise me you won’t make something stupid.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, he was the one always making the bad decisions she wanted to say instead.
“You won’t get involved.” He was firm about his statement.
“Only if you promise to be safe.” Y/N retorted.
“I’ll try my best.” A soft smile played on his lips.
She mirrored the smile and followed him outside, to join their guest one more time.
“Mr. Shelby! This is a wonderful party.” Mrs. Lewis praised, she was the wife of a former major, a bit extravagant, she loved to show off. “And a beautiful house.”
“I appreciate your words. But all the credit goes to Y/N.”
“So the old wives tale is real huh? That babies come with a bunch of blessings.” She squinted her eyes happily at Y/N’s baby bump, then looked back at Tommy. “Congratulations! I wish this baby nothing but the best.”
Y/N opened her mouth to correct her, and clarify that Tommy wasn’t the father. But Tommy cut her out.
“Thanks, hopefully you’ll be able to help us with the fundraising.”
“I’ll tell family and friends, you can count on that Mr. Shelby.”
As the woman disappeared, Y/N turned her face around to look at him.
“Let people talk, they’re going to do it anyways.” He stated, then as a waiter passed by, he took a glass of whiskey from the tray. “Rule number two; never reveal the truth when they can barely deal with a half truth.”
“What’s number one?”
“Oh, I’d tell you… but then I’d have to kill you and I’d be kind of sad you know?” He winked at her and elegantly strode towards where the music band was playing to grab the microphone.
“Good evening everyone, thank you for joining us tonight. As some of you may know, the Shelby Foundation Institute will open doors in a couple of weeks, we’re sure with this project we’ll be able to help many many children in need, grant them the education their parents can’t afford and a safe environment to learn and develop the abilities that’ll will help them in a near future.” A round of applauses filled the room and Tommy thanked the guest with a small nod. “Your contribution is highly appreciated, it will allow us to complement and provide everything that’s needed. I can assure you, your money will be well spent and we’re more than open to welcome you any time at the Institution.” His eyes started moving across the room. “Last but not least, I’d like to thank to the responsible of this project, the one who since day one showed a genuine interest and despite the doors that were closed in her face, she never backed down until this was a reality. Y/N thank you for everything you’ve done.” Raising his glass in her direction, he recognized her effort and compromise.
Blushing from getting all the attention towards her momentarily, she started biting her lip.
When Tommy started walking, people over to the side, making something similar to a human wall and leaving a space free for him to walk until he reached Y/N.
“Dance with me?”
The gesture took her by surprise, but soon Tommy’s arm wrapped around her waist and he started swaying to the beat of the music.
“Everything is perfect, thank you for taking care of every little thing.” He admitted with a very rare smile.
Carefully to not make Y/N dizzy, Tommy spun her around, following the music beats.
“Thank you for taking us in.” Y/N replied as a wide smile spread on her lips.
Feeling like nothing she could say or do was enough to thank Tommy. She’d be in debt with him for the rest of her life.
“You’ve nothing to-” he started to say but she cut him off.
“I do, every single time I blink, I feel so grateful to have you in my life.”
Tommy gave her hand a squeeze. “If things were different… wouldn’t you do the same?”
“Yes.” She admitted in a heartbeat.
“Then this better be the last time you thank me.” He raised an eyebrow as a warning, but his eyes remained giving her a gentle look. “I know you’d do the same thing for me.”
One more careful spin and the piece was done. A round of applause filled the room and the background noises brought them back to reality.
“I’ve to go, stay here, stay safe.” Tommy stated. “You know what to do in case something bad happens.”
He had already showed her where to hide in case anyone broke into Arrow House. It wasn’t his favorite outcome, but he had assured her it was for the best of she was prepared. Luckily he hadn’t show her how to use a weapon, but she knew the day might be closer than she thought.
“Tommy…” her heart started hammering her ribcage, she could feel it in her ears too. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”
The look of worry he found in her eyes made him fight the lump in his throat. If something happened to him, what would she do? Who would protect her? Who’d look after her and the baby?
“Will do. This is the last ilegal business, you know I want to make it right.”
Clearing his throat, he looked around finding Arthur giving him a nod, they were ready to go.
“I’ll be back before you know it.” He assured her once more.
As a different music started to play, Y/N went on to search for her grandmother.
Meanwhile, downstairs Lizzie was crying and smocking in such a bad shape after having a word with Michael about Angel, she started shouting when she heard what they did to his restaurant, she was fuming.
“Miss Stark can I help you?” Mary asked, smoothing her apron.
“Do you’ve a gun? So I can shoot someone?” Lizzie wiped her nose.
“No ma’am.” Mary took a step closer. “May I ask what happened?”
“The Shelbys blew my boyfriend’s restaurant so he couldn’t come to the party.” She tried to smooth the black mascara under her eyes.
And she started to whine and bent into the maid all she knew about the stupid rivalry between the Shelby’s and the Changretta’s.
Mary ignored Lizzie’s past, she only knew she was her master’s secretary, so she felt naturally bad for the green-eyed woman.
“I don’t get it, Thomas gets to have the little happy family with Y/N and also dictate who am I able to be involved with.”
“But they aren’t a family, the baby isn’t Mr. Shelby’s.” Mary dropped an unexpected bomb.
Lizzie stared at her in disbelief, her jaw dropping.
“Are you sure?”
“The motives of why he keeps her under his protection are unknown to me, but he isn’t the father of that baby.” The housekeeper assured her.
Lizzie nodded automatically, processing the news and thinking how this piece of information changed a lot of things.
“So Y/N is a little slut after all.” She mumbled to herself, planning in her mind a couple of ideas that would tear down that facade of integrity and good morals Y/N carried around like a crown. A woman’s reputation meant much more than anything.
And of course, it didn’t match the wealthy people standards.
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Master list
TYSM for reading! Remember your feedback feeds a writer’s soul 🥰✨
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 days
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BESTIE. I was just casually thinking about your whole dybmn series and now I’m wondering, as both reader and Spencer become more confident with their spicy dynamics, what kind of lover would Spencer become with her? New k!nks, maybe?, I JUST genuinely think that Spencer is so whipped for her that he would definitely use toys and anything else, not only to experiment but to get to know and find out about all of her secret facets.
I believe she would be his “creation” like he would be so proud to see her development in her confidence in spicy times like smirking all over as she does anything to please him and he’d be like “yeah, I created that” because I’M BITING MY PILLOW RIGHT NOW and gonna dig up a hole after this to hide myself because my thoughts are so hideous. Girlie, what did you do to me? I wasn’t like this. 😩
oh let’s discuss
18+ long ass rambling and things i think about A Lot ……..
in my opinion (which is not the end all be all everyone can perceive them however they’d like) reader and spencer definitely bring out more sexually adventurous sides of each other like they just have a shit ton of chemistry and for a while ithink spencer would just be easing reader into sexuality so nothing that crazy would happen aside from the power dynamics we see pretty much from the start. i think those would definitely get stronger and occasionally more variable. im not usually into sub!spence but i think there would be times he would definitely allow reader to have more control (i don’t ever think he’d be like calling them mommy lmfao) but aside from that i could also see him veering VERY rarely in a slightly harder!dom direction. like he’ll never hurt or seriously degrade you but in p3 reader says something about liking it when he acts like they belong to him and he was really into that. as the relationship progresses i think he would almost start taking more ownership of r’s body in a way, like obviously nothing is ever nonconsensual but he just knows you so well that it’s like… well he knows you better than you know yourself sooo you let him call the shots, but at his core i think spencer is forever oriented to please. he just wants to make you feel good, that’s always gonna be his goal, so he’s always going to listen and even if the power dynamic is weighed in his favor you are actually always the one in control bc he’d do anything for u lol
in terms of kinks…. idk, i never really see spencer as a super kinky guy? like he just knows too much about paraphilia and obviously sexual violence ties into a lot of his job so i sincerely doubt he’d find giving or receiving pain arousing beyond like slapping your ass or you scratching his back or whatever. love is always at the heart of sex for him and that’s going to be the most important part, he’ll never be able to see you just as a body. he’ll always see you as the person he’s in love with and there are things he’s simply not willing to do to the person he loves.
because of his trauma he’s super duper hesitant about bondage BUT i think he wouldn’t be completely opposed to very light restraints on you or him, he’d just have to be in a specific mood. i also never see him as being someone who’s super into toys because he’s such a luddite, he can barely stand having an email i doubt he’s going to have an extensive collection of sex toys. but he would so use your vibrator on you or make you use it on yourself in front of him again if he’s in a very specific mood
oh but YES he DELIGHTS in having defiled and corrupted you. idc idc im not accepting criticism on this. like he spoils you so much that you’re used to getting him whenever you want and so you’re not very subtle about it. if you get all needy in public and start draping yourself all over him and giving him looks and pulling on his sleeve because you want to go home he’ll fuck you in rossi’s bathroom because he wants to encourage your lewd behavior.
obviously he has boundaries tho and he has respect for you and the people around him like he won’t do anything that draws attention and he’ll only ever do things he knows he can get away with without anyone else noticing
later seasons spence also LOVES when you leave marks on him he thinks it’s cute how you mark your territory and he’s not at all embarrassed if there is a hickey above his collar at work. in his mind it’s like. why would he care about other peoples opinions on his sex life when they have nothing to do with it god i think about this all the time
anyway im sorry if this was disappointing😭 idkidk, thank you for asking about my thoughts tho bc i am always down for headcanons
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trashcigs · 23 hours
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what they notice first ・ 피원하모니 crush!neutral reader + word count 0.9k genre fluff, crushing cw not proof-read — more 👩‍🦰
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keeho, your appearance
heart eyes, heart eyes, heart eyes. keeho just admires you, you're just so ethereal.
treasures photos of you like a soldier going to war. photobooth film strips will be decoed on his bedroom walls, will keep Polaroids of you two on the back of his phone and have the most horrendous (your words not his) goofy .5 photos of you in his camera roll ( he really loves them tho )
when you look away from him to choose a pastry at your favourite cafe, he's looking admiring you through his sunglasses. he loves everything about you, he constantly tells himself that God has favorites.
keeho feels like the entire world is slowing down whenever he looks at you. means every single word, whenever he calls you gorgeous or pretty
will melt into a puddle if you compliment him too
taeyang, your facial expressions
finds the way you move intriguing, laughing at your facial expressions every chance he gets
theo is also very expressive with his emotions, so to see someone who also can't hide them is so endearing to him.
loves the facial expressions you make whenever you find something you like or remember an important detail to a story. the slightly audible gasp, the hand over your mouth, the eyes widening and then darting towards him
when someone you don't like passes the both of you in the library, the disgusted look you both give the person and then each other. barely finding being able to hold in your laughter after seeing the other.
usually ends up finding himself on his bed giggling over the way you gave him a very warm and loving expression, kicking his feet under the duvet and giggling like mad man
jiung, your smile
jiung likes to think that your smile was the first thing that captivated him. he's the type of person who would be having a terrible morning but the moment he sees you smile its suddenly the best day of his life.
he usually finds himself smiling when you're smiling, cheek in his hand, his lips curved up -- eyes like crescents. looks like the snoopy image, stares at you like you hung up the stars. he always does whatever he can to see it, whether that be telling awful jokes, or mimicking anime characters anything that would crack a smile on your face he will do
its even worse when you compliment his gummy smile. completely faltering when you wave goodbye and send a soft smile his way. my friend, he's a goner 🙏
intak, your laugh
intak immediately finds his eyes darting towards you after saying a crappy joke, just to hear and see you laugh
and omg when you do, he's never been happier. will laugh along but only because your laugh makes him so giddy. it's so bad that he recognizes your laughter from distance. he just knows that voice is coming from you.
your laugh is a perfect melody, has never failed to put him into a good mood. he's pretty proud knowing that he can make anyone laugh at his jokes, but for you? he wouldnt mind trying a bit harder
intak thinks your laugh is the most majestic melody bestowed upon this very earth ( his words not mine). when he scrolls through his camera roll to see a video of you laughing at him for losing in a game of basketball at the arcade, he needs to grab the nearest wall before his legs give out on him.
and he's so bad a hiding it. grinning from ear to ear amd eyes turning into crescents whenever he hears you laugh. ( he'll try to turn away because the sound of your laughter is still ringing in his ears and making him giggle like a school girl i front of you)
soul, your eyes
soul really adores your eyes. it's always so full of love. he usually finds himself gazing your way too often. he thinks he's being subtle but you can him bending his neck looking your way every once in a while.
but when your eyes meet he feels the cloud parting and the sun rays shining on him your eyes, finds himself gazing into your ways way too often. when your eyes meet he feels the clouds parting and sun rays bestowing upon him, his body floating to the heavens above.
looses himself too easily, whenever you're arguing and he needs to look up at you he falters. he can't argue with someone who has big beautiful eyes. whatever you say gorgeous
loves how expressive your eyes are , leaning on his hand to stare at them from afar
watches the way your eyes crinkle over the smallest things, they way they shine when he gets one of your favorite snacks!
he definitely has a emoticon dedicated to your big beautiful eyes.
jongseob, your hands
it's the way your hands hold so much warmth that he has the urge to lean into your touch, even if it's for a few seconds ( maybe when he gains the courage )
whenever both your hands brush against each other, seob tries to act slick and nonchalant but his body completely betrays him dating his eyes between your hands your face, and the book in front of him. wondering if you had noticed, if you did it on purpose, if you felt disgusted but will mutter w a small sorry and when you reply its okay he tries to hide his smile behind a book.
does find himself looking at your hands, wondering what it would be like to hold them if they were brushing through his hair if they were on him. he's usually the first the notice if you've done anything with your nails
and compliments you on the new nail sets, the colour, or even the gems. will send you inspo photos for your next visit to the nail salon. ( when you invite him over he loses it )
additional note: jongseob seems like the person who loves to make handmade gifts, bracelets, necklaces, rings -- anything. when he sees you wear them tho he does a doubke take, ( hold his hand n he's sure he can die in peace right then and there
notebook 학! (학!)학 (학 ) 학교안 갔어
taglist ???
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604to647 · 1 day
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Barón Tovar Takes a Wife
First Movement (Adagio sostenuto)
5.5K / Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero Tovar x fem!reader, a childhood best friends to lovers story
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Summary: About to make your society debut and enter London's marriage mart, you don't expect an old friend whom you haven't seen in over 10 years to make a surprise appearance at the first ball of the season.
Warnings: None! Fluff! B, C, D, E, F Bridgerton make appearances. It's me so there's a cute nickname (won't spoil). The masterlist includes a few words about how this reader insert is written - essentially, no reader description other than having hair and wearing dresses in the style of this era, reader has a backstory; much of this part is exposition (so maybe a little slow but we'll get there!😊)
A/N: My plan is to post the entire series before Season 3 of Bridgerton airs, because the story is intended to take place in the background of the same season and if things don't make sense after the show comes out then oh well 🤭 I'm also only 2/3 of the way through Julia Quinn's books, so please forgive me if some of my characterizations of the Bridgertons are not wholly correct 🙏🏻
Wonderful Bridgerton inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰
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Series Masterlist
The Duchess of Hastings stands behind you, admiring the reflection in the mirror of the two of you together, “I dare say, if you had debuted with me during my season, there is a good chance that I may not have been the Diamond.”
“Oh, shush, your Grace,” you make a funny face at her in the mirror, to which she laughs and pokes you in the ribs, “Don’t you start with this ‘Your Grace’ business with me.”
That Daphne Bridgerton is your dearest and oldest friend in England is something you consider to be one of the great fortunes of your life, of which, as the daughter of a Count, you have many.  Violet Bridgerton and your mother, the Countess, had been dear friends and as such, much of your early childhood in England had been spent at Bridgerton House, running around with not only the same aged Daphne, but her elder and younger siblings as well.  The Bridgertons are one of the most beloved families of the ton, their good natured and spirited personalities recommending themselves to everyone, and accordingly, your memories of when your two families would gather remain some of the most joyous of your childhood.
Sadly, your dear mother passed away from illness when you were only seven years of age and your beloved father, who loved her more than life itself, could not bear to stay in England much without her.  The Count was one of several nobles charged with governance of Her Majesty’s Royal Naval Fleet; a gentle man, his purview was primarily diplomatic (as opposed to militaristic) and he thus travelled widely, often and always for long periods of time.
Though he did not wish to remain where so many of his memories dwelled, the Count could not bear to leave his only child behind, and consequently, you had joined your father on his travels.  He proudly raised a cheerful, spirited daughter who loved the seas and adventure as much as she did reading and music.  Your father found that exposing you to and requiring you to immerse yourself in so many foreign cultures at a young age led you to be the most sympathetic and kind hearted child, one who others found easy to converse with and befriend on account of your good humoured nature and open minded heart.  Unencumbered by the rigid etiquette requirements (and dress code!) of British high society, you happily embraced many freedoms that other young ladies of your age and breeding did not have the opportunity to enjoy.  Your father taught you much about the ships and business of the naval fleet, subjects to which you took a great interest; to this day, you know your way around most ships better than some sailors.  The Count was especially proud of your affinity for diplomacy, understanding the importance of fairness and tough negotiation both in foreign matters and managing fleets.  You loved all of it – spending countless hours pouring over maps and letters of diplomatic matters with your father and absorbing all you could; as you got older, you took great pride in the way your father would sometimes seek your opinion and advice on business matters and delighting when he would praise you on your ideas.
While he was unorthodox, your father could not be accused of being neglectful; he would not forgo your formal and societal education, knowing that one day, you would have to return to live in England.  Hiring only the most adventurous and brave governesses to accompany your travels, the Count ensured that your literary, numerical, musical and artistic accomplishments and pursuits could rival those of your peers back home.  You learned to dance the dances of grand balls, though you had only the few foreign dignitary hosted events to practice.  Your only other occasion to practice came when you would return for your infrequent visits to England, reuniting with your beloved Bridgertons to spend nearly all your time catching up and laughing with Daphne and her siblings, and take in what you could of British society before once again being swept away on another ship.  Though brief, these reunions with your friends, coupled with your frequent letters were enough to ensure your friendships remained strong and cherished over the years.
Two years ago, Daphne had made her societal debut, meeting and marrying her love, the Duke, during the marriage season and you could not have been more delighted for your friend.  That season should have also been your debut season, except that you and your father were in the Far East and would not have been able to complete the Count’s business and return in time.  Since you had postponed one year, what was two?  If you had your way, you would have made it three, not eager to give up the life of travel and leisure that you’ve grown accustomed to.  However, when the Queen wrote to ask why the daughter of one of her esteemed Counts has not yet been presented, both you and your father had to regretfully concede that your life as a carefree sea farer was over.
And thus, you find yourself in your present circumstance: in a luxurious silk gown the colour of swan feathers, wearing what might actually be swan feathers in your hair, about to be presented to the Queen before embarking on your first social season.  To be honest, you’re not terribly nervous, save for whatever nerves one always has whenever attempting something new, and you have good reasons not to be.
The first being that you are in the very capable hands of your great friend, the Duchess.  The now Dowager Viscountess had promised your mother that when the time for your debut came, it would be the Bridgerton family’s honour to sponsor you.  If anything, you felt that the honour was all yours – not only were you to have the support and backing of one of the most respected and revered families during your season, you would also be blessed with their company.  As fortune would have it, due to the timing of your debut, Violet had prepared herself to take on the duty of presenting not one but two girls: yourself and her third eldest daughter, Francesca. 
Fearing it was far too much work and pressure, you had assured Violet, whom you loved as a second mother, that she need not fret too much over you; you’re a woman of twenty-three with more world experience than most men twice your age, and encouraged her to focus her attentions on her own daughter.  Violet had been aghast at the implication that she didn’t think of you as one of her daughters, and you were about to be on the receiving end of a scolding that only a mother could dispense when Daphne came to your rescue.  As the Duchess of Hastings, she herself had the right to present young ladies at court, and she declared herself delighted to be your patroness this season.  This was decidedly a win-win; not only could Violet concentrate on Francesca’s prospects, you could now look forward to spending the season with your dear friend by your side.
The second reason you’re not overly anxious is that despite being older than most of the girls debuting at the same time, you know you have plenty to recommend you to potential suitors.  No, you are not terribly conceited nor do you hold your own attributes in such high esteem, but rather, very practically, you know most suitors will not let a small thing such as age deter them from the handsome fortune your father has bestowed upon you. 
The Count was forever exasperated with the shortcomings of the laws of inheritance and how they prevented his one child from inheriting his estate, but he made up for it the best he could with the legal avenues available to him.  First, he set aside a healthy dowry for you, so that you would be sure to attract a similarly healthy crop of high society gentlemen from which to choose a husband.  Second, via his will, you would be provided for for the remainder of your life with a generous per annum allowance that rivaled the income of many estates; you were to want for nothing even if you never married. 
And finally, known only to a select few, your father had a vast investment in an international fleet separate from the naval fleet of the queen; a beloved exploration and trade business venture that was the Count’s passion project - you and him spending many enjoyable hours pouring over the plans and movements of this fleet.  The dividends from your father’s shares went directly into a trust of which you (and any future children of yours) are the sole beneficiary, though the capital had to be held by a man.  It was the Count’s thinking that in addition to the income, it was only fair that you benefitted from a venture that you had invested much of your own heart and time into.  Naturally, being a part of your father’s estate, this investment could be passed down to the next Count (a distant relative), but your father had other plans.  If the intended recipient was willing, you father wanted to sell his shares to his future son-in-law, allowing for the dividends to continue flowing to you and so that you may remain close to the business via your husband’s involvement. 
In other words, there are plenty of reasons that potential suitors who might otherwise be dismissive of your age and lack of societal presence, may find you attractive (the least of which were probably your charm and wit); you can afford to be choosy and you fully intend to be.  And while you’re not quite so hopeful to wish for a great love like that of your parents, or even Daphne and her beloved Simon, you dearly wish for a husband that will understand and respect you; one who will celebrate you for your mind, experience, opinions and all the reasons why you’re different due to having grown up the way you did.
Daphne seems to have high hopes that there will be many potential suitors who will live up to your expectations.  You’re less confident than she, but still more optimistic than not.
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Flopping yourself down on the chaise next to Eloise, the two of you heave heavy sighs in unison.  After the nerve-racking presentation to the queen earlier this week, the following days have been a non-stop flurry of ribbons, fittings, etiquette lessons and teas with the express purpose of study in the who’s who of the ton.  In just a few hours, all of Violet and Daphne’s hard work and preparations will be put on display when your contingent attends the first event of the season: the Danbury Ball.
Eloise passes a box of candy to you and you select a treat gratefully.  Though Daphne is your closest friend, you’ve sometimes found yourself having a fair amount in common with Eloise and know her to be a trustworthy confidant; this is one of those times.  While you don’t think you have it in you to hate anything as much as Eloise despises the marriage mart, the both of you at least have the good fortune of being able to be picky with your suitors and moreover, wish to exercise that particular privilege.  For Eloise, marriage is a cage.  For you, it’s the not marriage itself, but a union with an imprudent match that you wish to avoid.  If you can no longer be free to sail the seas and wander through the valleys and streets of the foreign lands that call your name, you must insist that the home you’re being called home to roost is at the very least, pleasant.
“I beg of you,” murmurs Eloise, “Please let all the fashionable young men fill up your dance card so that there shall be none left for me.”
You steal another piece of candy, “I’m afraid there’s more than enough young men to go around, El.  Plus, you really ought to beseech Franny for your request, my dance card may struggle for applicants on account of me being such an old maid,” you giggle.
“None of that negativity now,” chimes in Daphne from the open door, “tonight is full of possibilities.”
During the season, you’re staying at Bridgerton House so to be close to all the finery of dresses, jewels, shoes, ladies’ maids and moral support that you may need.  Your father is staying nearby in another house on Grosvenor Square, and comes by most days to see his daughter and dear family friends for breakfast at the very least.  You have loved your life with your father, but at times like these, when you are laughing at and listening to the loving snipes and bickering of the Bridgerton siblings, you often wonder what it would have been like to have a more traditional upbringing.  Pushing that thought out of your mind, you stand and pull Eloise up with you so that the two of you can follow the Duchess to the next room where you’re expected to choose from the glittering selection of dresses laid out for tonight.
As you lean towards selecting a pretty lavender gown, Daphne fills you in on the processional arrangements for your entrances tonight, “Mama, Franny, Anthony and Kate will take the first carriage, then you, Eloise and I will follow in the second.  We will enter the ball in that order as well.”
“What about Colin and Ben?”
“They’re meeting with some friend from Colin’s travels whom he met in… I want to say Greece?  They will make their own way and meet us at the ball.”  You nod agreeably; as long as everyone is together at some point or another, your first season event will feel a lot less daunting.
---
As you walk into the Danbury estate, you cannot but feel a bit overwhelmed by all the elegance and glamour on display.  Though no stranger to luxury and finer things, it’s not very often that you find yourself amidst so much opulence.  Eyes shining as you take in the finery, your voice is full of excitement and genuine awe as you compliment Lady Danbury and thank her for hosting tonight’s soiree.  Hand clasped tight in Daphne and Eloise’s as you make your way down the main hall to the ballroom, you see Colin further down on the right side of the hallway, waving alongside Benedict.  Waiting by the wall with the Bridgerton brothers is a third gentleman, tall and broad shouldered with soft, curly brown hair who currently has his back to you; Colin has on a mischievous grin and he’s speaking to the stranger quietly, eyes flitting back to you and his sisters periodically as you approach.  This can’t be good, you think with suspicion.  When you’re a few steps away from meeting with the brothers, Colin gives the stranger a slight nod and he turns around; before you even have a chance to look upon the newcomer’s face, you hear a familiar sweet baritone voice say, “Hello, Dulce.”
At first, you’re in shock; the Spanish word for candy is not a nickname people commonly call you and it’s one you haven’t heard in over ten years.  Then joy of recognition and realization overtake you and you completely forget where you are, crying out, “Pero!!!”  Your arms behave of their own accord and fly open to wrap around his neck as you launch yourself into the handsome man’s arms.
He hugs you back firmly and whispers low in your ear, “Happy to see you, too” before releasing you, the both of you immediately stepping apart and drop your hands to your sides, remembering where you are and that the eyes of the ton are always watching.  But you can’t help but beam; nor can you look away from Pero’s face. 
Pero Tovar had been your most constant and beloved friend for many of your happiest childhood years spent abroad.  Pero’s father, a Barón of Spain, was in charge of naval governance for his country in a similar capacity as your father was for England and accordingly, their paths crossed regularly in foreign countries.  Both men of gentlemanly dispositions, the Count and the Barón had forged a deep and lasting friendship as they conducted their business.  Another thing that they had bonded over was the fact that they were both widows who uncharacteristically chose to bring and raise their children with them on their travels. 
So, although Pero is eight years your elder and already in his early teens when you first met, being the only two children of sea loving foreign diplomats in the strange lands you found yourselves in readily recommended you to each other and you had become happy and frequent playmates.  Pero devoted hours and hours to your amusement, allowing himself to play more juvenile games of pretend that he may not otherwise with compatriots of his own age, and with his encouragement you grew to be brave and curious, always wishing to keep up with the older boy.  He helped you with your studies, and you played music for him, learning and mastering the pieces he enjoyed the most.  The two of you shared a love of literature and it became your special version of a traditional hunt in each new country you landed in to find foreign language versions of the other’s favourite books so that you could read the translations alongside your worn English copies.  Some of the most cherished copies of your favourite books, ones you carry with you from country to country still, were gifts from Pero. 
As you got older, your shared adventures expanded to include exploring the streets of new cities, trying local cuisines and frolicking on the beaches of the coasts of Italy, Portugal and even India.  The last time you had seen him, he was a strapping young man of twenty and you had been twelve.  His father was returning to Spain for an undetermined amount of time to deal with affairs of his estate, and Pero would be entering university, having postponed his acceptance for two years already.  Although you had each promised to write, the letters were far and few between and eventually you lost track of Pero – you can hardly blame either of you; you were travelling with your father and not always easy to find, and you didn’t really expect a young man concentrating on his studies to have the time to write to a young girl despite having been her very best friend for so many years.
But now he’s standing right in front of you and you can hardly believe your eyes.  He’s impossibly tall and wide, a far cry from the lanky boy with whom you scrambled over rocks on the beaches of Portugal, but he’s still tanned, leading you to surmise that he must still sail or at least get a healthy amount of sun regularly.  And while his face is older, devastatingly handsome with a cutting jawline partially hidden by untamed facial scruff, he’s completely recognizable to you.  An easy clue is the scar that runs from above his left eyebrow down past his eye, though faded from when you saw it last, but it’s the indulgent smile he’s giving you right now that gives him away to you.
“What are you doing at this ball? Did you know I would be here?” you can’t help but continue to stare at Pero wide-eyed, grinning like a fool.
“Oh!  We made the connection earlier this week at dinner,” chimes in Colin, “We were going to bring him over to the house but thought this would be more fun.”
You make to swat at Colin’s arm. “How did you meet this scoundrel?” you jest, with absolutely no malice in your voice, pointing your thumb at the still laughing Bridgerton brother.  As your group starts to move towards the ballroom, Pero falls into an easy step by your side, “We met when Colin was taking in the crisp sea air of Mykonos, and then again last year in the vineyards of Tuscany.  He made for excellent company after a long day of helping the locals prune grape vines.  Naturally, when I arrived in London for business this month, I had to look him up.”
Daphne is now tugging you towards the ballroom by your hand, and in turn, you’ve grabbed onto and are practically dragging Eloise down the hall with you.  You shout back to Pero, “I want to hear everything!” and can’t help the smile that spreads across your excited face when he nods after you.
“Oh!” you breathe, invigorated from the surprise of seeing Pero, as you come to a stop right before the entrance way.  Daphne smiles over at you, “It was so hard keeping it a secret from you!”
You’re astonished, “You knew about Pero as well?”
“Yes, I thought it might give you an additional boost of confidence to have another friend’s support during your first event.” 
You smile at your sweet friend and squeeze her hand affectionately, “Thank you!  It does and I’m delighted to see Pero again.  But in truth, my confidence could never be lacking when I have a friend like you next to me.” 
Daphne gives you her biggest smile and squeezes your hand right back.  A moment later, the three of you step into the ballroom and meet the gazes of the other attendees as you’re announced.
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The ball is a whirlwind.  It seems you hardly have a moment to even catch your breath, never mind catch up with Pero.  From the moment you walked in to the grand hall, you were pulled in this direction and then that, introduced to new person after new person, some of whose names were familiar from your visits home over the years, and others only from the copious amounts of study you’ve done on the ton over the past week.  You’ve certainly forgotten all their names by now. 
Then it’s dance after dance after dance with the young gentleman that Daphne parades in front of you.  The dancing itself is quite pleasant and a lovely way to shake out some of your jitters, but you find the small talk hardly enough to get to know your partners, and when the dance is over and you’re once again being whisked away to another introduction or meeting that the Duchess has lined up for you.  The few opportunities you’ve had to take a breather and indulge in a glass of lemonade, you’ve been happy to retreat back to Pero and your small familiar group; but just when you’ve started to entreat your old friend to open up about his adventures since you saw him last, another potential suitor will be introduced and the entire cycle starts over again.
It’s only when you’re halfway through the evening that the frenzy has died down enough that you can observe and be amused by Pero’s behaviour at the ball.  While you’re constantly twirling around the dancefloor, you notice that he never leaves his position against the wall and doesn’t dance at all; he mainly scowls and looks displeased, hardly speaking to anyone other than the Bridgertons or you when you have a free moment.  You feel his eyes follow you as you glide across the dance floor with the young men that have asked you to dance, and even when you’re making your way through the room on Daphne’s arm, meeting and making small talk with the other families of the ton.  When you do happen to look up and search for him, you often find him glowering and looking dissatisfied, though if you catch his eye, his expression will soften slightly. 
Once while you were dancing with Lord Whitfield, you had caught Pero’s eye mid-turn and made a silly quizzical face at him, as if to ask What’s going on with you? and you think you see him laugh briefly before the steps of the dance require you to turn away from him.  You wonder why frowns so fearsomely and if there’s a reason for him to be so stoic and curt with the rest of the ton.  It’s so odd to you as you’ve never had so much as a cross word from him in all the time you’ve known him, not even when you had snuck out of the compound in Singapore when you were nine so you could watch the fireworks display.  Pero had come looking for you, his face serious and eyes panicked when he finally found you in the busy square, but he never once got mad.  Instead, he swore not to tell your father, and promised that if you had wanted to see the fireworks up close, he would accompany you.  And then he did just that the next night and the night after that.  But here, when not engaging the company of his friends, Pero’s countenance is positively sour.  Any hopes harboured by the mamas of the ton for snagging a Spanish nobility son-in-law this season are quickly dashed.  Barón Tovar is decidedly not here to find a wife.
With the evening more than half over, you realize that unless you make the point to do so, an opportunity to speak more than a few minutes with Pero will surely not present itself.  And while you are having fun meeting potential suitors, your mind consistently wanders to Pero throughout the evening.  Aside from simply wishing to catch up with him and be in his comforting presence, you do have something important you feel compelled to speak to him on.
After a particularly spirited quadrille, you curtsey your gratitude for the dance to Mr. Sedgewick, and before any of the young men you spy hovering nearby can approach you, you hurry as elegantly as you can toward where Pero is standing awkwardly pressed to the wall. 
Pero, having seen the look of determination on your face when seeking him out, asks with concern when you come up to him, “Is everything okay, Dulce?”
There he is, you smile when you see the kind, gentle expression of the boy that you knew for so many years, “Everything is fine, Pero.  Although I must admit to needing a respite from all the endless socializing.  Do you think we could get some lemonade?”
“Of course.  I would be happy to accompany you in fetching a glass.”
With Pero by your side, any person who previously had designs on engaging you during this brief break between dances now thinks better of it; you chuckle to yourself as his fearsome expression comically paves a clear path for you to the refreshments table.  Once having secured your drink, you ask Pero if you can speak to him privately.
Careful not to lead you from view of other people lest it incite a scandal, Pero finds a quiet place in the entrance hallway and turns to find you looking up at him rather seriously.
When you’re certain you have his attention, you launch into your confession, “Pero, please allow me to tell you how sorry I was to hear of your father’s passing.  I remember him as such a kind, generous man, and such a wonderful friend to my father and by extension, me.  I will always think of him with tremendous fondness.”
“Thank you, Dulce.  I know he thought very highly of both you and your father and forever treasured your friendships.”
But you’re not done and start to shake your head, eyes filling with tears, “And I’m so very sorry that I did not write to you at the time.  I didn't know where you were, but I should have been more diligent in my efforts to find you.  I deeply regret not being there for you if you needed someone.  I hope you were not alone during that difficult time.”
You hang your head in shame.  Pero feels a deep affection for you blossoming in his chest; before him is the same sweet and compassionate girl he knew when he was a boy.  Tender-hearted and endlessly considerate of the feelings of others, you always had more empathy than you knew what to do with; he himself had been on the receiving end of your care and concern more times than he could count.  Pero gently tips you chin up with his gloved finger, “It was a tough time and I miss him a great deal.  But he was an incredible man and I strive to follow the example he set for me everyday.  So, in many ways, he is still with me.  No need for any apologies.”  He gives you what he hopes is a soft and reassuring smile.
In return, you grin, “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?  The boy I knew would have made me pay dearly for even the slightest offense - my portion of dessert for a week, at the very least.”
Unable to hold back his own grin, Pero is finding it easy to slip back into this familiar type of playful banter with you, “Well, I was trying to be a gentleman, but since you think me nothing more than a brute, I shall have no trouble devising an appropriate punishment.  For your transgression against me, I demand… a dance.”
You laugh whole-heartedly and it feels wonderful to laugh loudly at something genuinely funny rather than the quiet polite laughter you’ve been making most of the evening. “A dance?  Well, that is hardly a concession for me!  One dance with you means one less spot on my dance card for some lord I don’t know but who Daphne thinks I might find charming,” you joke.
“Are you finding your potential suitors so far to be villains or are they all just very boring?” smirks Pero.
Giving him a little punch in the arm to show him you’re not really complaining, “I am not so terribly unfeeling.  They are for the most part fine enough gentlemen.  The particular circumstance we find ourselves in just makes them so very eager.  It can feel terribly awkward.”
“None of them are good enough for you anyway.”
“Oh, and you are?” you jest, eyes full of mirth.
“Dulce, I’m the worst of the bunch,” counters Pero, leaning in close.
“I don’t doubt it,” you haven’t smiled this wide all evening.
“Be that as it may, the price you must pay to regain my favour remains the same.  Shall we?” Pero holds out his arm, waiting for you to accept his dance invitation; you hold on to him gratefully and head back into the main ballroom, realizing this is the first dance of the ball that you’ve truly looked forward to.
When Pero takes his place across from you, the tittering from the crowd that the Barón has finally taken to the dance floor can be heard over the opening notes of the music.  You can’t help but giggle, and Pero beams back at you – your light laughter more melodic than any music he’s ever heard.
Hand firmly curling around your waist, Pero sways you to the beat and the two of you carry out the steps of the dance comfortably together.  You hadn’t realized how much stress you’ve been under or how much tension you’ve been holding in until now, when you find yourself actually relaxing in Pero’s strong hold.  For the first time this evening, you’re dancing without nerves or the pressure of having to make polite conversation or a good first impression; you can simply be.  You sigh in contentment.
“What is it, Dulce?  Are my dance skills not to the standard set by your other partners this evening?”
“Hardly,” you chuckle, “I know for a fact that you dance remarkably well.  And if I were to have any complaints, the blame would rest squarely on my shoulders since we learned these dances together.”
“That’s true, we can only be as good as the partners we practice with.”
“Exactly. At least that’s what Madam used to say, right before she would rap you on your shoulders with her rhythm baton,” you muse, nostalgic.
“That weapon had a name?  I have not thought of Madam for many years now, but upon my word if I did not straighten up and stiffen my arms just now.”
You share another chortle as only two close friends with a long history of fond memories and inside jokes between them can.  When you sigh again, Pero cocks his scarred eyebrow at you.
“Do not think me dissatisfied, my Lord.  It is simply just so comfortable dancing with you, as if it has not been over ten years since we last did so.”
“I feel the same way, Dulce.”
You smile sincerely at Pero; although you could explain yourself further, you somehow know that he understands your meaning without you having to do so.  Feeling content, both heart and mood light in the safety of Pero’s closed frame, you find yourself wishing that you could spend the rest of the ball dancing with only him.
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I've never done a tag list before so please let me know if it doesn't work, or you don't/do want to be on it, or it sets your phone on fire 😅 @drewharrisonwriter @inept-the-magnificent @tuquoquebrute @titabel
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atopvisenyashill · 1 day
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Catelyn's resentment at always having to adhere to men is not talked about enough in my opinion. When she bitterly thinks that she always did her duty. When she thinks about having to wait for the men in her life. When she snaps that Robb did not her consider his sisters important enough. When she laments that no one sings songs of the battles of women aka childbirth and children.... Yes she conforms because she is realistic and pragmatic and dutiful and she wants to survive and be happy enough and she wants the same for her daughters.
YES EXACTLY. I think it’s like. For so long she conformed because it was realistic pragmatic dutiful, because being a perfect lady and heir made things easier on her parents, and she loved her parents, she wanted them to he proud, and it turned out she was GOOD at so many of the things they asked of her, and it gave her the ability to be in charge of herself and her life for so long, and when minisa died, she could help lift the burden off her father’s shoulders, and it gave her the ability to grow and speak her mind, and being dutiful brought her ned, who was so much more than she ever thought she’d get, and it brought her five amazing children, and a home she loves and can be free in - like jon snow thing does suck but compare this situation to like upwards of 90% of the marriages & you know what it’s a fucking dream and Catelyn knows this, she is aware things can always be worse, it’s why she understands immediately why jon & lysa were doomed from the start, she understands this system and how it works, and it’s worked so well for her she can ignore the ways it has hurt her.
And then it just. Completely fails her. She’s tricked by Lysa and Petyr, the two people she’d least expect it from that she never even entertains the idea, Ned is murdered, Sansa is a hostage, Arya is just gone, Bran has been nearly murdered twice, and she’s in her childhood home and Hoster is dying and Edmure is annoying and Blackfish is off fighting again and she’s reliving the worst days of her life but this time the person waging war isn’t a husband she doesn’t know, it’s her own son and she just can’t stop thinking about how she’s done everything right, she’s played by the rules her whole life, she upheld the social contract because it promised she’d have control over her life, and then the whole thing just completely fails because joffrey has a tantrum after petyr whispered in his ear, AGAIN, just another mad king with power hungry advisors, and she’s stuck in this room AGAIN-
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AND SHE DOES.
like, that’s what happens, is she spends her whole life doing what she’s supposed to and then it crumbles down around her and she just figures, fuck it, if following the rules can’t do the one (1) most important thing it has to do which is keep my family alive than i’m not following shit anymore. she starts to just do what she thinks is best. starts to snap back. starts to just speak without being asked. like, she’s cracking, she’s breaking up, YEAH she’s still dutiful, but what is she being dutiful TOWARDS? is she doing what robb says? what edmure says? NO, she’s making her OWN DECISIONS she’s trying. and then people will see her become a literal undead spirit of rage and revenge and be like “she’s so dutiful and never struggles or chafes against the patriarchy” when she struggled and screamed so much at the ending she was clawing her own face to ribbons!!
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midnight-moth · 3 days
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For the Zeph/Ifrit maybe just some look ins on how they take care of each other? How to do relax after shows, are they a cuddly pair? Do they have any cute things like how Raindrops is the strawberry waffles. Maybe some of their spicy headcanons, who leans more to dominate, who leans more into submissive, any specific kinks they adore? <3
Hellooooo
Okay, I’ll do my best…. I realize I have a lot of ideas about them that I’ve never really put down so it’s like trying to turn an impressionist painting into a word doc. Rambles below the cut
I do think that Ifrit requires as much care as Zeph does, maybe in a different way? In my mind, Ifrit has lots of very BIG feelings. About everything. He has a massive heart, and he cares A LOT. Sometimes to his own detriment. Worrying about everyone else’s needs and wants and desires, whilst sacrificing his own well-being. (Kilonova readers - yes, the same way). I think Ifrit is mischaracterized. I think people view him as a bit simple, a bit of a himbo if you will. I think he thought for a long time, well, if the shoe fits. I think maybe he’s allowed himself to be taken for granted, or used. Because at least he’s still useful.
Zeph who is never looking for anything fast or easy, takes the time to know him. To refuse the initial invitation to Ifrit’s bed. It’s one of the first things he offers because he assumes that’s what people want from him. Ifrit is definitely confused when he is only partially rejected. Zeph wants his time, not his body. (He will eventually, but gray-ace Zeph for the win). Ifrit starts to doubt his own self-perception, that he is some highly sexual being, when he is actually just sexualized.
I think the first time they’re together Ifrit doesn’t even know what to do with himself. He doesn’t need to perform, but he does have to be present. Zephyr’s white-blue eyes bore right into him. He realizes for the first time, he doesn’t even know what he likes. His MO has always been to try to figure out what will be expected of him, or perhaps it’s outright demanded. He is a people pleaser, and maybe once it was necessary for survival but not anymore.
So to answer the question, of spicy headcanons, I do think for these two they’re pretty damn vanilla. Because once Ifrit knows how truly valued and cherished he is, how loved, he can’t really imagine anything hotter than that. He’ll happily settle for missionary sex just so he can see the way Zephyr looks at him. To know that his pleasure is of equal importance, what he likes and what he does not actually matters (prefers a hand job over head because he’d rather be kissing Zeph than staring at the top of his head). Sorry if that is a boring answer, I really don’t see them being all that kink-driven. I think Ifrit has been there and done that and circled back to wanting mushy gross sappy sex.
Also, I think Zephyr tries so hard to be independent for the above reasons. He doesn’t want Ifrit to feel like he has to take care of him. I think it takes time and trust before he allows Ifrit to care for him. He has to be worn down. Maybe he’s a little bit proud too. (Stubborn AF)
I think Ifrit collects all of the feathers that end up in his bed. Likes to fan them out sometimes, run them over his fingers and appreciate what it’s like to miss someone and know they miss you too. Maybe Zeph plucks a flight feather to leave on his pillow because they’re the biggest and the prettiest. Maybe he leaves them in his shoe, in his pocket, in his guitar case.
I do think Ifrit sometimes doesn’t know how to accept all of this, to feel worthy of it. Reminds me of someone coughwheezehackdewdrop.
As far as food goes, I think Ifrit’s palette is little on the simple side. Whereas Zeph is more adventurous but where they meet in the middle is pasta. Zeph teaches him to make a very simple pasta dough from scratch and it’s the most magical thing to him. I think a simple bolognese is their fav but they’re down for some cacio e pepe too. Once Zeph braised some beef for like 12 hours to make ragu and Ifrit maybe cried a little when he tasted it. Mostly knowing someone would bother to do that for him.
Also 11/10 very cuddly always being cute and finding ways to stay connected. Even if it’s Zeph’s feet pushed against Ifrit’s thigh while they read, or the backs of their hands resting against each other at the dinner table. I think they’re subtle about it. (Most of the time)
Okay I think I’ve rambled enough…
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Unknown, Ep 11: To Grow Taller
Alright y’all, I just want to say that I am not super thrilled with how Episode 11 went. I felt like they completely obliterated the emotional build up to the change over after they did such a great job of navigating it in Episode 10. 
So as much as there were some lovely images of hands, I’m not that interested in writing about it. So it is time, it is time to do the thing I should have done long ago. 
It is time to write about Lili and San Pang. 
Hands down my favorite part of this episode (and probably one of my favorite scenes of the series) was seeing the two of them interact, of seeing more of Lili’s inner workings, of understanding that she knows more than she lets on. I loved Yuan telling Qian that Lili is smart, and I loved the proud little smile Qian had when he heard that. 
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The most important scene in this episode, to me, starts with the height wall. That thing has been causing me psychic damage since episode one. It pans down to Lili. I like how long the camera lingers on her eyes. Lili has seen everything that has happened in their lives and she’s been spared from a lot of the violence, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t beared witness to it. 
I was really struck by her words to San Pang: 
“When we were little, Qian was always there to help us with everything we did. He would measure our height every year. I always wondered when I could grow taller than him. Then I could protect him.” 
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I know we have seen Lili constantly take a back seat in this story. We have seen her even acknowledge Qian’s focus on Yuan multiple times throughout the show. We don’t see her doing as much for Qian as Yuan does. She doesn’t know how to wrap up leftovers, she’s not a great cook, she doesn’t try to pay the household bills. But that’s because she loves Qian like a sister does, she’s got a secure position in the household, she’s not trying to be Qian’s partner, and it is a testament to Qian’s love for Lili that she does not know how to do some of the basic life things, because it means that she’s been so well taken care of she hasn’t been forced to learn.
There are all these little elements scattered across the series that show Qian’s love for Lili. The picture on his desk at home is of him, Yuan, and Lili at Qian’s graduation. He has the magazine she’s featured in on display. He immediately softens on his anger towards her relationship with San Pang when she asks him to go on a family vacation. 
She has seen how much Qian has suffered, and she loves Qian enough to want to shield him from any more harm. 
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And San Pang is so lovely in this scene, with his head resting on the stair railing, a sleepy look of love on his face as he stares at Lili. I love the way San Pang smiles to himself when she tells him this. Because Qian is family to San Pang and San Pang is family to Qian. San Pang loves Qian and wants what is best for him always. And I do think there is a difference there between the soft, dreamy, comfortable expression he has when looking at the woman he loves, and the small smile that lights up his eyes at the thought of Lili loving her brother enough to want to protect him.
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Lili’s face is serious, and she does not always look in San Pang’s direction when she talks:  
“Even though he is a few years older than us, his hands are always covered in scars and calluses.” Lili tells the ground. It’s interesting to me to see when she is comfortable enough reviving a memory to look San Pang in the eyes because she doesn’t do so until partway through her hand cream story:
“One year, I took the hand cream my classmates gave me” she looks at San Pang “and rubbed it on his hands at midnight.”
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The camera cuts to San Pang who is listening to Lili absolutely enraptured by her. And I do have to commend the show for how they have navigated Lili and San Pang’s relationship change. In very few frames, with little fanfare or flare they have made San Pang and Lili’s relationship clear, understandable, and believable. We’ve had like, two minutes of them together up through now, and all I need to believe these two will be together forever is all in the way that San Pang looks at Lili. That man is not only head over heels in love with Xiao Bao, he’s ass over tea kettle in love with her as well. 
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“He scolded me for it. Do you know why?”
“I do.” San Pang says with a smile. And I love that because we remember that San Pang and Qian have grown up together. San Pang has been helping take care of Qian and the rest of the family for years. You know in the way that San Pang smiles that he is remembering Qian as a young man complaining about Lili lotioning his hands in the middle of the night. Hell, I can picture Qian’s rant right now. “Because it smelled like roses.”
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Lili laughs and covers her face in embarrassment. “That’s right.”  
But like a lot of scenes in this show, the transition from lighthearted to more serious changes on a dime. Lili’s face slips back in to a frown as she turns over a thought. “Nobody cares about Qian.”
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And this is what it feels like sometimes, with how stubborn Qian is, with how much weight he wants to carry for himself, with how much debt he owes to the likes of Le, Xiong, and San Pang. But they don’t expect repayment, they did this because they care about Qian. San Pang has helped Qian weather many many storms. He has pushed when Qian needed pushing, he has pulled when Qian needed to be held back. 
“Yes, they do. We all love your brother.” 
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Qian has so much love in his life, if only he stopped long enough to see it. If only he let go long enough to feel it. I was not thrilled with how they fumbled so much of the emotional weight of Qian and Yuan getting together in this episode, but I am glad the show took time to highlight how much they all love Qian and to show the audience that they want to protect Qian just as much as Qian wants to protect the rest of them. 
All this to say San Pang and Lili work incredibly well together as a couple, and I’m so happy that we got to have this little moment between them, both to breathe a bit more life in to their relationship and to remind us all that Yuan is right. Lili is not as naive as she seems.
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All gifs by the lovely, wonderful, marvelous @wanderlust-in-my-soul. THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU ARE THE BEST <3
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Two questions haha! Post-war, what kind of domestic things lead to spicy things for Gale and Maureen? And the same goes for Ida and Rosie later on?
Oooh excellent ask, one I need to give more thought to and write on but for now here’s basic what comes to mind -I’d love to hear y’all’s thoughts.
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Gale x Maureen: nothing really changes in the fact that Maureen remains proud as hell of her little golden overachiever but also miffed at the sheer amount of time his important jobs and higher studies require of him, the way he gets into a whole mood about them and brings it home inadvertently. She certainly has more patience for it by now as they’ve come to an understanding, he’s working on disentangling and leaving it at the office and on her part she throws fewer tantrums over it and merely declare: her need for his attention.
Which he’s always willing to give. Sometimes his engine is not revved as hot as hers and it takes a minute to play catch up, but he’s there for her in every way he can, a dynamic they solidified in camp. Often when she knows hes genuinely too busy to make time, she simply crawls under his desk, bounces in his lap and tells him carry on, while she gets her fix.
Spankings, I’m afraid. She wasn’t so sure she liked them all that much but she could feel how despite the first few being non sexual in nature, they made Gale hard, and that aroused her in its own way. He’s got a very specific way he makes love to her after such discipline, it’s very slow but hard with a great deal of reaffirming eye contract which makes her cum like a girl possessed, his whole attitude being like he’s pinning his newly tamed prey down after not just the attack but then the devouring.
This couple is about power plays for sure, but mostly nice ones. And Maureen does most of the initiating although this man cannot restrain himself when she’s on the water. Boating or kayaking or what have you, his mouth runs dry watching her enjoy herself so much in her little swimsuits and he’ll act on his feelings with a rash publicity utterly unlike his usual self.
Rosie and Ida? Ooh, so many things, and a lot of them very domestic, mild, not at all a blatant wooing. He’s done the damn dishes, she’s found and archived a case he was about to have a panic attack over losing, they won a case, they did something mildly risky (they’re both closeted adrenaline junkies), they aced their Christmas shopping list, they smoked everyone in snow skiing -you know what all these mild things lead to?
Celebratory or grateful kisses, and no one, absolutely no one kisses like the Rosenthal’s. It would get you heated just running into them in the hall going at it, much less if you were engaged in it as one of them.
They don’t eat each other’s faces off, or not always, they’re the best at sensual kisses that make you realize you have no fucking clue that the mouth could caress so much. And they hold each other’s faces and she tugs at his hair and he often kneads her shoulders while at it which turns this rather stiff spined woman into goo.
Phone sex is huge for them,… ok maybe not full phone sex all the time but good Lord, the foreplay of an average call between them! Started with their courtship and now it’s gotten so blazing and so specifically coded, nothing better be in their way between them and the bedroom when one or the other gets home.
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smilesrobotlover · 2 years
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Sometimes I feel terrible about the stuff I make and I compare it to everyone else’s stuff and how popular it gets and I have to remind myself that I’m making this stuff for me. To improve myself and I’m also making it for younger me, who dreamed of the things I’ve been making for years
I always dreamed of having a certain style and I have it now. I dreamed of making comics and I’m actually doing it. I dreamed of writing stories and I do it all the time. I have to remind myself of these things so I stop hating myself and the stuff I do.
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loopyhoopywrites · 7 months
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‘The Oxford English Dictionary Defines Resilience As’ by Loop Laurens.
My local queer group, in collaboration with the local library, created an LGBTQ+ zine to hand out at Pride, themed around resilience. As a psychologist, resilience is a kind of humorous concept to me, because it’s one of those things everyone agrees is a good thing and people should have more of it, but no one can agree on what exactly it is or how to measure it. So when I was thinking about what I wanted to create for the zine, I starting by looking up ‘resilience’ in the dictionary, and this is what I ended up making.
I wanted to make something that balanced my trademark lighthearted humour writing with something personal and honest about my trans experience, and, somehow, I think I managed it.
Transcript below the cut.
The Oxford English Dictionary defines resilience as
the ability of a substance or object to spring back into shape; elasticity
As a trans man, I’d quite like to be less resilient.
No matter how many times I:
bind my chest
cut my hair
state my pronouns
I always spring back into shape again.
The Oxford English Dictionary also defines resilience as
the capacity to withstand or to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness
(I think that’s the one I was supposed to write about)
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touchlikethesun · 3 months
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so i completed my first ever fan binding, everything from start to finish - barring writing the fic myself - and i wanted to share the results!!
the fic is the certain things we lack by @deanpendragon on ao3 (it’s an incredible fic, if you haven’t read it already, you really really really should!!)
if anyone wants to bind their own copy using the typeset i made, i’ve put a fully formatted and print-ready pdf along with some instructions for how to go about fan binding (and links to people who can explain the process better than i can) on my google drive!
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notbecauseofvictories · 6 months
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I know my soul hath power to know all things, Yet she is blind and ignorant in all: I know I'm one of Nature's little kings, Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall.
I know my life's a pain and but a span; I know my sense is mock'd in ev'rything; And, to conclude, I know myself a Man, Which is a proud and yet a wretched thing.
[ Graceland & Rosehill Cemeteries, Chicago Illinois — October 2023 ]
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sysig · 7 months
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He was a human pirate, which you wouldn’t think you’d have to specify and yet (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#ZEX#The Captain#This isn't even a sci-fi pirate adventure anymore this is just straight up human pirates lol#How many layers deep can we go until it's unrecognizable! Next up is Pirate AU!Helix! (Kidding. For now) Lol#There is something funny about it all to me as well considering how in-line it fits with the research I was doing for a Vargas fic concept#All these bodice-rippers coming home to roost lol ♪#Which is also interesting 'cause I hadn't thought about this particular fic from that perspective before but it also fits! It works well!#Yet another angle to approach it from on a reread haha ♫#ANYway lol - human!Pirate!SCII specifically finally lol#I do love just how openly attracted the Captain is to ZEX as a human haha - his attraction/disgust to VUX-ZEX is wonderful of course#It's just so silly and cute how honest he is when ZEX is in a body that he's aesthetically attracted to haha#And ZEX recognizing and utilizing that! But it still not quite tipping him over to being completely sold on the whole kidnapping thing lol#''I don't understand it! I look beautiful and I /know/ he's attracted to me! What could be stopping him from sleeping with me???" lol#Keep trying ZEX I'm sure you'll get it at some point haha#Finishing off with an idea of ZEX having to deal with a hostile and still not quite trusting the Captain not to run away#Or risk him getting hurt! ZEX can handle this! Let him protect you!#But the Captain also wants to help! And/or escape y'know whatever's most convenient haha#He's proud <3 And he does have an affinity with ZEX at this point - he knows he can be useful! But that's not what's most important to ZEX#Also being scolded and blushing a bit hehe ♪ Given just a bit of pause to be told by such a pretty face to ''Behave'' ♫#I do really like ZEX with the coat and braids hehe <3 Handsome
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