#full blooded italians

[roughridingrednecks]

Chuck Palumbo

[jasvvy]

[blueonwrestling]

Insanely huge pop from me for Deonna Purrazzo joining the full blooded italians at the Mark Hitchcock memorial show to counter Los Boricuas having a female member.

[astralbondpro]

I was thinking about people I could watch have matches against each other forever, and off the top of my head several ECW rivalries came to mind.

Mike Awesome vs. Spike Dudley.

Mike Awesome vs. Masato Tanaka.

And any combinations of Yoshihiro Tajiri, Super Crazy, and James Maritatio. Which I would also extend into The Unholy Alliance vs. The FBI.

I could’ve perpetually watched those guys have matches, until they were no longer in their prime. The matches were all familiar, but somehow new every time. Unfortunately, like a lot of things, how good all these matches were are getting lost to time. It seems as the more years pass, the less they are interested in looking back.

[nickmaniwa]

Wrestling shirts of 2023 -

2/12 - #43 - Not much on sports ball but I got my Eagles zubaz beanie on for my homie Ruff (RuffFigures.com) and got the FBI repro from the homie at 2800studio.com. Not pictured, my red/green/white zubaz. #ManiwaShirts2023

See all my past shirts on IG/FB/Twitter @nickmaniwa

[sysig]

Endearments (Patreon)

[moviesandmania]

CASTLE OF BLOOD (1964) Reviews and now free to watch on YouTube

‘They love only for blood!’  Castle of Blood is a 1964 Italian horror film directed by Antonio Margheriti (The Virgin of Nuremberg; Killer Fish; Cannibal Apocalypse), using the pseudonym Anthony Dawson. In the US, the film was distributed by the Woolner Brothers, who also imported Hercules in the Haunted World; Blood and Black Lace; Castle of the Living Dead and produced Hillbillies in a Haunted…

[duunswitch]

What is your favorite food?

hmmm. a very good question. i kinda cycle through favorite foods bc i'll eat a favorite for six months then hate it for a year bc i ate it too often and my brain got sick of it.

always down for a stuffed shell and sunday gravy though. im italian at heart and was raised on pastas.

[ahqkas]

♯ JEALOU$Y ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! an unexpected situation catches you off guard in the heart of florence and your boyfriend reveals a side of him you’ve never seen before (based off this req.!!)

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, jealous + italian theo, translation of foreign language + lmk !

WORD COUNT! 1.3k

NOTES! he’s so fine when he’s jealous❕

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THEODORE NOTT WAS FAR FROM HAVING A SHORT TEMPER (UNLIKE HIS BEST FRIEND) BUT THAT DIDN'T MEAN HE WAS NECESSARILY CARELESS. Sometimes, jealousy wrapped around his heart like the snake representing his house, squeezing and picking at the muscle, giving it wounds for blood to shed from.

And every time he tried to push those feelings aside, they came back even stronger than before in a crashing wave full of raw emotion. He felt like a puppet on a string that was pulled tight by the cruel hands of jealousy. His actions were no longer his own.

The summer sun bathed the picturesque streets of Florence in a warm, golden glow, casting a honeyed hue over the ancient city. Cobblestone pathways, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, stretched along the bustling streets. Each turn revealed a new delight: charming cafés with wrought-iron tables spilling onto the sidewalks, historic landmarks standing as silent reminders of the past, and vibrant marketplaces bursting with life and color. The air was rich with the scent of blooming flowers, mingling with the earthy aroma of aged stone and the tantalizing whiff of fresh espresso. The fragrance was an intoxicating blend, making every breath feel like a taste of paradise. The sounds of Florence added to the sensory feast: the melodic chatter of locals and tourists, the clinking of glasses and cutlery from the outdoor restaurants, and the distant strains of street musicians playing heavenly tunes on their violins and accordions.

Florence, in the embrace of summer, was absolutely beautiful. It was a place where history and romance intertwined, where every corner held a new discovery, and every moment was a celebration of the beauty of life. The city's magic lay not just in its landmarks, but in the way it made you feel — alive, enchanted, and eternally in love with the world around you.

You walked hand in hand with Theodore, your fingers intertwined in one as you explored the enchanting city. This vacation had been his idea, a chance for the two of you to escape the pressures of Hogwarts and immerse yourselves in the beauty and romance of Italy. Theo's Italian heritage made the trip even more special; he was eager to show you the places that held a special place in his heart.

As you wandered through a bustling street, you paused to admire a street artist's breathtaking paintings. The vibrant colors and detailed brushstrokes captured the scenery of Florence in ways that made the city's beauty stand out even more, and you found yourself lost in the artwork. Theo had stepped away momentarily to get you both something to eat from a nearby stand, leaving you alone but content. The hum of the city buzzed around you, voices of people blending with the occasional strum of a guitar.

While you were engrossed in the art, a group of local boys approached, their laughter and chatter filling the air. They were handsome and confident, their flirtatious smiles and easy charm unmistakable. One of them, with dark, curly hair and a mischievous grin, stepped forward, clearly intent on catching your attention. His eyes sparkled with interest as he gestured towards you.

"Sei molto bella." ("You are very beautiful.")

You blinked, a bit taken aback. Although you had picked up a few phrases during your time with Theo, your grasp of the language was far from fluent. You understood enough to know that he was complimenting you, but the exact words of meaning escaped you.

Before you could respond, another boy joined in, his tone equally playful. "Vuoi venire a fare una passeggiata con noi?" ("Do you want to go for a walk with us?")

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, both from the unexpected attention and your inability to respond. Your eyes darted around, hoping to spot your boyfriend. You were feeling increasingly uncomfortable, unsure how to extricate yourself from the situation.

Just as you were about to attempt a polite but awkward decline, you heard Theo's voice, sharp and commanding. "Ehi, lasciatela in pace!" ("Hey, leave her alone!")

The transformation in him was startling. Theo, usually so calm and composed, had a fierce intensity in his eyes. He stepped between you and the group of boys, his posture protective, his expression a stormy mix of anger and determination. The easygoing demeanor he often sported was replaced by a fierce warning.

His broad shoulders squared, blocking the boys' view of you completely, creating a barrier that was both physical and emotional. The bright warmth of the sun seemed to dim in comparison to the fire that burned in Theo's gaze. It was as if a switch had been flipped, transforming him from the gentle, sweet boyfriend you knew into a guardian ready to defend the owner of his heart and soul.

The boys, who had moments ago been brimming with confidence, raised their hands in mock surrender, laughing nervously. "Calmati, amico. Non volevamo causare problemi," one of them said, trying to diffuse the situation. ("Calm down, friend. We didn't want to cause trouble.")

But Theo wasn't having any of it. Each word was a blade of a dagger, cutting through the casual flirtation of the boys, leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. "Non vedete che non è interessata? Andatevene prima che mi arrabbi davvero." ("Can't you see she's not interested? Walk away before I really get angry."). His voice was low and menacing as he continued in rapid Italian, his words too fast for you to catch but clearly effective in making the boys rethink their approach. They muttered a few apologies before scurrying away, casting wary glances over their shoulders.

Theo turned to you, his eyes softening instantly as he took in your bewildered expression. The fierce protector you had just witnessed melted away, replaced by your sweet boy you knew so well. "Are you okay?" His hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a comforting touch.

You nodded, still a bit shaken. "I'm fine. They were just . . . I didn't understand what they were saying," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Theo's lips curved into a reassuring smile. "They were trying to flirt with you," he explained. "But don't worry, they're gone now."

You managed a small laugh, the tension easing out of your body. "I figured that much," you said, your voice lightening. "Thank you, Theo."

He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart were instantly calming. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he murmured, his breath brushing against your hair. "I just couldn't stand the thought of them bothering you."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. The fierce protectiveness in his gaze had melted into something softer, more tender. "You were amazing," you said honestly. "I've never seen you like that before."

Theo's smile widened, a hint of pride in his expression. "Well, I can't help it," he said, his tone teasing but sincere. "You bring out the best in me."

As you continued your walk through the beautiful streets of Florence, Theo kept you close, his arm securely around you. The incident with the local boys faded into the background, replaced by the joy of being together in such a magical place. The city's charm and Theo's unwavering affection made you feel like you were living in a dream.

Later that evening, as you sat together at a cozy café, sipping on rich Italian espresso, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Theo. His protective nature, his deep love for you, and his ability to make you feel safe and cherished were all things you treasured deeply. As the sun set over the Florence skyline, painting the sky in brilliant hues of pink and orange, you leaned into Theo, feeling utterly content.

In that moment, with the world bathed in the soft glow of twilight, you knew that no matter where you were, as long as you were with Theo, you were home.

[msvelawciraptor]

It has been A Week.

It felt like the media showed up for every hearing I had this week. One of my most difficult clients damn near blew up his plea and we still had to reschedule a bunch of shit. (And I had to get help un-fucking it, which was freely given by one of my favorite humans but they have enough on their plate and I hate having to drag them in.) A sweet baby of a client got a sentence that he did not deserve even if it was technically within the range of the plea. I just...it's been a lot.

I don't know if this orange rhubarb mocktail I've made can fix it, but by God it's going to have to give it the old college try. It's getting an assist from some dispensary chocolate, so I'm cautiously optimistic

[deeisace]

I was so nearly asleep and then the horrors began again waughh

[drizzledrawings]

Do you have a full master post of like your cowgirls lore, how they met, their backgrounds and situations they got in ect. I absolutely am obsessed with them.

Why thank you so so much

I’ve talked so much about them on here, but it’s scattered, and quite a lot of it has evolved lore wise

So let’s make this that master post:

Basic lore for this universe:

Set in a non specific time of the Wild West (implied to be the tail end of the era)

But with a magical twist. The folklore of things that are not quite human living alongside humanity is real, and they are hunted for their skin. It is a known fact that shapeshifters exist, and they are illegal. Though some peoples “magic blood” don’t always show itself as Shapeshifting, it can also appear as accelerated healing or acute senses. These people are generally referred to as beasts or animals

These transformations are hard on “beasts,” they take up a lot of strength to preform them, and if you’re injured in one form, it can take time before you’re able to switch. If you’re injured enough it can be permanent.

Brunette: Flora Guerra

She was born to an Italian immigrant family with strict parents, as well as the youngest daughter to five other children. When she was 16, her parents arranged a courtship with a much older man. Flora was furious, this rage culminated in her first transformation, unfortunately this happened in front of the man as well as the rest of her family. They immediately turned their backs on her, disgusted with what she was. Terrified, she fled. She hopped on trains and resorted to petty theft to make her way west, to a land she hoped would be freer than the life she left behind!

Her first big brush with the law was when she stole her horse Bandit from a man who was treating him poorly. She fled the scene but only after shooting one officer. (Thus her first ever bounty was for murder)

Her main way of making money was seducing men and robbing them blind while they were distracted by her beauty, unfortunately she picked up the wrong trick one day, a notorious gang leader, who instead of shooting her outright, brought a then 17 year old Flora back to his gang. She became “his girl” and used her looks to help him get what he wanted.

In the gang however there was one man who was like her! He could turn into a wolf, like how she could turn into a jackalope, they formed a bond, and when the gang fell apart, he was the one to get her out safely.

Ginger: Mattie (Matilda) Hayes

Mattie is the eldest daughter of her odd family. Her father and mother immigrated from Ireland, her mother dying during childbirth of her youngest child, Ben. Because of this, Mattie became the sole caretaker of him, very much raising him herself. The entire family were beasts of some sort.

Mattie could turn into a fox from a young age, her brother as well started to transform around the same time. (Though he was a cougar)

Their father, was also odd, in more ways than just beastly. He was a sour old man with a mean streak, drink had a mighty hold on him. After an incident that broke the camels back, involving hateful words and a smashed beer bottle, Mattie had enough. In a fit of rage she set fire to her father’s barn, in the aftermath She packed her bags and set to leave. She tried to get Ben to come, but he refused and told her to never come back. So she listened.

At 18, her and her horse June travelled the desert, finding odd jobs, pulling off some robberies, and failing at pickpocketing, this left her with quite a price on her head.

After a couple years of travelling by herself, the way she preferred, she ran into Flora for the first time.

First meeting:

They met as their animals first, Mattie was trying to hunt Flora but got startled by her horns.

Later on, she was trying to rob a man on the side of the road. Only for Flora to swoop in at the last moment and get the trick instead. (By “saving” the man, but picking his wallet a moment later)

That night, Mattie was nursing her hurt ego by drinking her weight at a saloon, but alas she couldn’t even enjoy her whiskey in peace, when the woman who stole her prize sat down at the bar with her.

Pissed off Mattie tried to storm away but bumped into an angry drunk, this turned into a full on bar fight. Which Flora dragged her away from and offered to patch up her wounds

They stuck together after that. But didn’t become lovers till much later

Flora fell first, but Mattie fell harder.

JESUS this is long I’m sorry

Anyways main plot:

Word gets to Mattie that her father is dead, and her younger brother has resorted to a life crime. He is being set to hang once he’s caught. She sets out to find him.

Flora’s old gang has picked up on her location, and they are hunting her down. Scared for Mattie’s safety she works with her old friend to figure out how to keep them off their trail.

The two of them have also been found out to be beasts by the law, so on top of being wanted because of their crimes, they are also being stalked by beast hunters.

Everything seems to be going okay, Mattie finds Ben, and together her and Flora help him get away from the noose, they look after him and bring them to their camp. They thought they were evading the hunters as well as the gang.

What they didn’t know was that Ben still held a grudge for Mattie leaving. He blames her for their father’s ultimate death.

He rats them out, not only to the hunters, but to Flora’s old gang. He figured that if he gave them their location, the law would let him go. They took the bargain.

The hunters and the gang ambush them, Ben leading the way.

Flora gets injured during the fight in her human form. Ben nearly kills her.

The siblings go head to head in their beastly forms, and against all odds, the fox beats the lion, killing the last remaining member of her family.

Flora, incredibly injured, cannot transform, and for reasons unknown to Mattie, she cannot switch back.

Years pass, Flora has a limp that doesn’t go away. She is never able to be her animal again. And Mattie, well, she didn’t get too injured that day, though it seems like something broke inside because she lost her human form.

They move north together, and live a peaceful life, even though it’s not quite normal. What with Mattie being a fox and all that.

A decade or so after everything, they’ve been out of the life for a long time, is when Mattie finally finds herself again. Though she’s very different to what she used to be, her human form had changed, more fox like and more wild, though still her. She can only take that form for bits at a time, but it’s something. They’re happy

If you read all of this… damn thank you!!

[yawnderu]

honestly i would die for bimbo!reader to have some sort of Legally Blonde level of intelligence but for the stupidest, most useless shit. no, she can't remember which knob turns on which burner for the stove, but she can tell you the effects of different chemical compounds found in all her favorite skincare products and now they react to an individuals derma-layer. simon once caught her watching a screensaver on TV for 30 min because she thought it was "a reeeeally slow nature documentary /:", but she's fluent in Korean because she got super into Korean make up brands from her favorite influencers and wanted to be able to read the product ingredients/reviews/tutorials, it just never gets brought up otherwise and when someone asks in disbelief she's all "what, like it's hard?"

and simon is just sooooo so so proud of his smart pretty girl. who cares that she thought soap's parents legally named him after a dishwashing product. can mactavish tell him how to tell dupes from authentic handbags based on the inner stitching that can only be done on machines specially made by Italian companies? no? then shut the fuck up. tell us more about glitter lipgloss, beautiful.

Absolutely!! She may be dim-witted when it comes to certain things, but she's not exactly dumb at all. This girl could recite the laws of astrophysics and solve complex mathematical problems while being piss drunk.

Simon is still amazed by how complex his sweet girl is— he knows she isn't stupid, yet it never fails to surprise him how you start speaking to MacTavish in fluent Scottish Gaelic, only offering the explanation that you learnt it because a character on your favorite movie spoke it once, looking at him like he grew a second head when he sheepishly told you most scottish people don't speak Gaelic anymore.

Sure, you may have thought movies were real and used to avoid watching them because you thought the actors were actually getting killed and you didn't want to support that, yet a window of your house is full of math equations that gave him a headache just by looking at them.

I'd say Simon sees bimbo!reader as a box full of surprises, telling him about something new every single time you have a conversation. How did you get into studying astrophysics? You got the highest score in the university admission exam and saw a poster that was shiny and had cute stars and a pretty nebula!! How could you resist when everything about it called for you?

Mhm, the smell of gunpowder and blood that sticks to him no matter what is such an odd perfume, yet it surely has an interesting molecular makeup! Of course it does, pretty girl.

They complement each other so well because Simon has the street smarts she's lacking, and she has the book smarts Simon doesn't. She can be extremely ditzy, but who cares when she can tell him exactly which inks are recommended for his skin and which chemicals can rough up his face? He had to buy a brand-new eye black stick simply because you could tell the materials used on it by applying it on your hand with a frown.

I'd like to imagine her as someone with lots of odd interests, knowledge and hyperfixations in the dumbest things besides the universe. He has to keep up with you buying materials for making bracelets and keeping a room full of dinosaur plushies.

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

[lewsnumerounofan]

dirty (theodore nott x reader)

summary: in which theo seeks to remind you who you really belong to (hint: it’s not your boyfriend).

notes: fingering (f receiving), cheating, kinda dick theo, kinda jealous theo, angst, 1k words, smut

+ part two

His eyes—dark, haunting—trailed you through each room and interaction. Well, trailed you and your boyfriend.

All was fine until your boyfriend went to get you both drinks. As soon as he disappeared from sight the Slytherins tall presence appeared at your back.

Despite your protests, Theo managed to drag you from the crowded dance floor, down the hall and into a dark bathroom, all the while avoiding your curses and flailing elbows.

“Let go of me, Nott. Are you fucking crazy dragging me out of the party like that? He could have seen,” you hissed, trying to break for the door. He beat you to it, coming to stand squarely between you and your escape route.

This boy, you thought. He drove you mental—had done since the first time you’d laid eyes on him. It was only a matter of time before one of you had slipped, boyfriend or no. Since then it had been long months of broom closet hook ups and secret astronomy tower rendezvous.

But you had sworn all that off. Your boyfriend was nice. And Theo was… well, Theo.

“Come here,” he said.

You scoffed and focused hard on the bathroom tile to your right.

“I fucking said come here,” Theo repeated, but now his accent was thick and his voice was loud. Lip curled he waited for you to slowly stand before him. You couldn’t meet his eyes, instead watching as his chest rose and fell with angry breathes.

“You can talk about your boyfriend all you’d like, principessa,” he spat, “but I’m the one fucking you, hm?”

His crude words had you forgetting your fear and raising your chin to argue. There was no need to make this messier than it already was—and who was he to talk? He seemed to have a new girlfriend every other week.

But Theo didn’t give you the chance. He was in your face in an instant, backing you up until you’d hit the opposite wall.

“I’m the one you call when you’re horny or lonely. I fucking own you.”

Your faces were almost touching. Theo angry was something you could never forget—his eyes were almost black as they incessantly tracked your movements. Mouth in a permanent snarl he kept your body caged in with his long arms, even as you tried weakly to pry yourself away. His voice changed too; every time he yelled his Italian accent became stronger, words sometimes reverting back to his native tongue. It made you dizzy.

“Theo-“

“Boyfriend or not, you’re mine. Sei mia,” he said, this time crushing the words onto your mouth.

Blood bloomed in your mouth as his lips slanted over yours. Theo was always rough with you, but now he was angry. And that proved to be wholly different.

Hands harsh on your skin, he pulled up your skirt. Not a second thought was spared for your lacy (expensive) underwear; Theo barely pushed them aside enough to fit two long fingers into you.

He handled your body deftly, taking what he wanted and doing so roughly. You tried to be mad at his obvious disregard, but something about the clench of his jaw and the heavy heat of his mouth made protest impossible. Thought of any form seemed beyond you; as he forced a long leg between yours you ground down, whimpering at your own vulnerability.

“So pathetic. Look at yourself,” he murmured, lips kissing along your neck. Indeed, it was a rather indecent picture. With your skirt ridden up and your underwear pushed away you could easily see where he was touching you. The slick on his long fingers, the flex of his arms as he pushed into you. The stutter of your hips along his thigh, pants already wet.

“What would your boyfriend think if he saw you, hm baby?

You wanted to scream. Possessiveness laced every flux of Theo’s voice, and his dead eyes were black as they watched you.

“Theodore-“

He tsked. His full lip curled, thigh pressing hard between your legs.

“Don’t call me that.”

You desperately tried to shift away from the pressure he forced on your clit, whining gently.

“Teddy,” you corrected, “Teddy please. Need you.”

The boys ego exploded at your words. Your boyfriend didn’t have you saying things like that, he was certain. Only he made you feel like that. Only he would ever make you feel like that.

Theo let his thumb replace his thigh between your legs, rubbing back and forth. Almost desperate to get away from the growing tightness below your stomach, you shifted your hips back and forth for relief. Feelings were too close and warm—sparks seemed to tense the muscles of your limbs over and over as Theo worked you meticulously.

“Cmon now, doing so good,” he said. His voice was raw with lust and admiration as he watched your face crumple.

“Teddy Teddy Teddy Teddy,” you were saying. Name a ceaseless prayer from your lips, body strung out he kissed you hard. That was all it took; your orgasm broke through you, bringing tears and pitiful moans. You clutched at the boys shoulders, breaths heaving through you.

“Teddy.”

A whisper this time, onto the fair skin of his neck. He held your limp body gently in his big hands. You started to shiver, but urged your trembling fingers to find his belt.

“Wanna feel you,” you said. But your hand was pushed away.

“Isn’t that what you have a boyfriend for, amore?”

And just like that he brushed past you, not sparing a backwards glance as he left the bathroom.

You didn’t move for a second, orgasm-fuzzy brain trying to process what had just happened.

Theo had left you. Theo had left you here after making you cum on his fingers.

You felt cold all of a sudden. Cold and dirty, you realized, as you tugged your underwear back into place. It was still damp—because of Theo, because of the way he mocked you and rolled his fingers in you.

Tears were quick to gather in your eyes. Fuck Theo and his stupid comments and his stupid, stupid eyes for leaving you here.

Fuck Theo for making you feel like this—like something to be used and mocked and discarded.

As you wiped fiercely at the hot tears tracking your cheek you promised yourself no more of the brooding Slytherin.

No more Theodore Nott.

[vinceaddams]

Early 18th (and late 17th) century fashions are so under-utilized in vampire media and I think it's a damn shame.

I don't actually think I've ever seen a single image of a vampire character in an early 18th century suit. Hardly any movies set in that era either, and hardly any historical costumers who do it. (Even my beloved gay pirate show set in 1717 takes nearly all of its 18th century looks from the second half of the century. Not enough appreciation for baroque fashion!!)

Yes I love late 18th century fashion as much as anyone, and 19th century formal suits are all very well and good, but if you want something that says old, dead, wealthy, and slightly dishevelled, then the 1690's-1730's are where it's at.

(Retrato del Virrey Alencastre Noroña y Silva, Duque de Linares, ca. 1711-1723.)

There was so much dark velvet, and so many little metallic buttons & buttonholes. Blood red linings were VERY fashionable in this era, no matter what the colour of the rest of the suit was.

(Johann Christoph Freiherr von Bartenstein by Martin van Meytens the Younger, 1730's.)

The slits on the front of the shirts are super low, they button only at the collar, and it's fashionable to leave most of the waistcoat unbuttoned so the shirt sticks out, as seen in the above portraits.

(Portrait of Anne Louis Goislard de Montsabert, Comte de Richbourg-le-Toureil, 1734.)

Waistcoats are very long, coats are very full, and the cuffs are huge. But the sleeves are on the shorter side to show off more of that shirt, and the ruffles if it has them! Creepy undead hands with long nails would sit so nicely under those ruffles.

(1720's-30's, LACMA)

Embroidery designs are huge and chunky and often full of metallic threads, and the brocade designs even bigger.

(1730's, V&A, metal and silk embroidery on silk satin.)

Sometimes they did this fun thing where the coat would have contrasting cuffs made from the same fabric as the waistcoat.

(Niklaus Sigmund Steiger by Johann Rudolf Huber, 1724.)

Tell me this look isn't positively made for vampires!

(Portrait of Jean-Baptiste de Roll-Montpellier, 1713.)

(Yeah I am cherry-picking mostly red and black examples for this post, and there are plenty of non-vampire-y looking images from this time, but you get the idea!)

And the wrappers (at-home robes) were also cut very large, and, if you could afford it, made with incredible brocades.

(Portrait of a nobleman by Giovanni Maria delle Piane, no date given but I'd guess maybe 1680's or 90's.)

(Circle of Giovanni Maria delle Piane, no date given but I'd guess very late 17th or very early 18th century.)

Now that looks like a child who's been stuck at the same age for a hundred years if I ever saw one!

I don't know as much about the women's fashion from this era, but they had many equally large and elabourate things.

(1730's, Museo del Traje.)

(Don't believe The Met's shitty dating, this is a robe volante from probably the 1720's.)

(Mantua, c. 1708, The Met. No idea why they had to be that specific when they get other things wrong by entire decades but ok.)

(Portrait of Duchess Colavit Piccolomini, 1690's.)

(Maria van Buttinga-van Berghuys by Hermannus Collenius, 1717.)

Sometimes they also had these cute little devil horn hair curls that came down on either side of the forehead.

(Viago in drag Portrait of a lady, Italian School, c. 1690.)

Enough suave Victorian vampires, I want to see Baroque ones! With huge wigs and brocade coat cuffs so big they go past the elbow!

[won4kiss]

── ❝ ꒰ 𝐼’𝑀 𝐼𝑁 𝐿𝒪𝑉𝐸 𝑊𝐼𝑇𝐻 𝒜 𝒞𝑅𝐼𝑀𝐼𝑁𝒜𝐿 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸﹙ 박성훈 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

𝓢𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔﹕in the glamorous world of italian high society, you, a detective, are on the trail of sunghoon—a charismatic art thief who targets the morally corrupt. as you close in on him, the line between duty and desire blurs, leading to a series of encounters filled with tension and unexpected twists. amidst a glittering art party and a shocking betrayal, you must confront your own emotions and decide between justice and an irresistible connection with sunghoon. with danger and passion entwined, the stakes couldn’t be higher.

୨୧ 𝓖𝙀𝙉𝙍𝙀﹕forbidden romance au, in love with a criminal trope!! strangers to lovers, romance, slight angst, fluff, oneshot.

୨୧ 𝓟𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂﹕criminal!sunghoon x detective! reader, platonic best friend! jisung (nct jisung god i love him!!) LIBRARY . . .

୨୧ 𝓦𝙊𝙍𝘿 𝓒𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏﹕5k+

୨୧ 𝓦𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎﹕angst (happy ending dw!!), character death, blood, weapons, gun mentioned, slightly suggestive? (barely..), swearing, kissing, obviously robbery and illegal things!! + not proofread & y/n being a shit detective…

𝓟𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟i𝗦𝗧 ﹕venice bitch, lana del rey! chemtrails over the country club, lana del rey! white mustang, lana del rey! lust for life, lana del rey! kiss it better, rihanna! heartbeat, childish gambino! marjorie, taylor swift! labyrinth, taylor swift! my tears ricochet, taylor swift! how to disappear, lana del rey!

﹙ ℒ ﹚── the playlist was mostly lana.. neways THIS IS MY THANK U FOR 1K FIC AAA, its almost been a week but i wanted to make the perfect post for u guysss<3 enhablr is full of some of the nicest most amazing cutest ppl i’ve ever met and a superrrrr big thank u to my moots ily guys sm :( thank u thank u thank u﹗ ❞ ⸝⸝

VENICE THRIVES IN THE IN-BETWEENS—IN THE SPACES BETWEEN LIGHT AND DARK, in between the past and present, in between beauty and decay.

it’s in these in-betweens that you find yourself as you walk the narrow streets, your footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

you're a detective, dedicated and relentless, known for your sharp instincts and unwavering determination to society— but for the past few months, one case has consumed you—one man who continually slips through your fingers.

park sunghoon.

his name alone is enough to make your blood boil.

sunghoon lives in the shadows of the city, a ghost who appears only to vanish again.

he’s a thief, a murderer, but also something more—a man who has captivated you in ways you’re reluctant to admit.

he’s a contradiction, an enigma, a man who does terrible things but for reasons that are almost noble— almost.

your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of water lapping against the side of a gondola.

you pause, looking out over the canal, your breath misting in the cool night air.

you have to find him. you have to stop him.

but there’s something else, something deeper, that drives you—and that’s what you fear will be the end of you.

the first time you encountered sunghoon, it was supposed to be a typical routine raid.

the intel had come in just hours before—an illegal auction was taking place at a high-end gallery hidden in the heart of venice.

rare paintings, priceless artifacts, things that should have been in museums, were being sold to the highest bidder.

and at the center of it all, the man you had been hunting: park sunghoon.

you arrived at the gallery with your team, your heart pounding with anticipation.

you had studied every detail of the building, memorized every possible escape route.

this time, you were going to catch him—you were sure of it.

but when you stepped inside, you realized that park sunghoon was always one step ahead.

the auction was over, the gallery nearly empty, except for a few lingering figures in the shadows.

and then you saw him—a tall, lean figure dressed in black, standing before a painting that had just been sold for an obscene amount of money.

for a moment, you were frozen in place— you had seen pictures of him, of course, but seeing him in person was different.

he was... striking, with sharp features and an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance.

but what caught you off guard the most were his eyes—dark, intense, and filled with something you couldn’t name.

“ah and you’re.. detective y/n, i presume?”sunghoon’s voice is smooth, almost playful, as he turns to face you.

“i’ve heard so much about you.”

you snap out of your daze, your hand quickly moving to the gun at your side.

“you’re under arrest, park sunghoon. don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

he chuckles softly, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “oh, but where’s the fun in that?”

before you can react, sunghoon moves, faster than ever, slipping through the shadows as if he were a ghost— never even there.

you curse under your breath as you chase after him, your heart pounding with adrenaline.

you can hear his footsteps echoing in the empty hallways, always just out of reach.

he leads you on a chase through the gallery, up staircases and through darkened corridors—until you reach the rooftop.

the moonlight had an eerie glow over the city as you finally cornered him, your gun trained on his chest.

“it’s over, sunghoon,” you say, breathless but determined.

but instead of surrendering, sunghoon just smiles—a small, almost amused smile.

“sorry pretty—not quite.”

with a swift movement, he disarms you, the gun falling to the ground with a clatter.

you barely have time to register what has happened before sunghoon is gone, disappearing into the night like he had never been there.

as you stand there, alone on the rooftop, you realize two things: sunghoon is unlike any criminal you’ve ever faced, and you’re in deep, deep trouble.

the second time you cross paths with sunghoon, it’s at a private villa along the canals.

the villa belongs to an infamous art collector, a man with a taste for the illicit.

word has gotten out that sunghoon is planning to steal a painting that has been missing for centuries, a masterpiece worth more than most people would see in a lifetime.

you’ve been waiting for him, hidden among the shadows as you watch the party unfold.

the guests are wealthy, powerful, the kind of people who think they’re untouchable.

but tonight, you’re not interested in them.

you’re interested in the man who is about to absolutely ruin their night.

you spot him just as he’s making his move—dressed in a black suit, he blends in perfectly with the other guests, but you knew better.

you can feel his presence, like a predator stalking its prey.

you wait until he’s just about to grab the painting before making your move.

“going somewhere?” you ask, stepping out of the shadows, your gun aimed at his back.

sunghoon doesn’t even flinch. he turns to face you, his expression calm, almost bored.

“you again? i must say, detective y/n, you’re persistent.”

“and you’re under arrest,” you reply, your voice steady.

“hands up. now.”

he raises his hands, but there’s a glint in his eyes that makes your stomach twist.

“you know, you’re much prettier in person,” he says, his tone teasing.

you grit your teeth. “this isn’t a game, sunghoon.”

“isn’t it?” he replies, taking a step closer.

“you chase me, i run. it’s all part of the fun, isn’t it?”

“fun?” you can hardly believe what you’re hearing.

“you’ve stolen millions of dollars, you’ve killed people, and you think this is fun?”

he’s right in front of you now, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“only the ones who deserve it,” he whispers, his voice low and dangerous.

“and trust me, detective, they all deserved it— and i think you know that.”

your grip on your gun tightens, but before you can react, sunghoon moves, faster than you can follow.

in an instant, he has disarmed you, his hand closing around your wrist as he twists your arm behind your back.

you struggle, but he’s stronger, his grip like iron.

“you really need to work on your technique,” he murmurs in your ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“you’re good, but not good enough.”

with that, he releases you, stepping back with a smirk.

“until next time, detective y/n.”

and just like that, he’s gone, leaving you standing in the empty room, your heart pounding with a mix of frustration and something else you don’t want to name.

a few weeks later— you’re yet again attending another event.

by the time you find yourself at the gala, you’re more determined than ever to catch sunghoon.

you’ve been tracking him for months at this point, chasing him through the streets of venice, but he always manages to slip away, but this time, you’re ready.

this time, you won’t let him escape.

the gala is a grand affair, held in one of venice’s most luxurious palazzos.

the guests are the crème de la crème of society, dressed in their finest clothes, sipping champagne as they admire the beautiful pieces of art on display.

you’re there undercover, wearing an elegant red dress that clings to your curves, your hair styled in loose curls that cascade down your back.

you feel out of place among the wealthy elite, but you don’t let it show.

you’re focused, your eyes scanning the room for any sign of park sunghoon.

you know he’ll be there—he can’t resist a good heist, especially when there’s a painting as valuable as the one on display tonight.

it doesn’t take long for you to spot him—he’s standing by the bar, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, looking every bit the part of a wealthy art connoisseur.

but you know better. you know what he really is.

taking a deep breath, you make your way over to him, your heart pounding with anticipation.

this is it. this is your chance.

“care for a drink?” sunghoon asks as you approach, his voice smooth as silk.

you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “you know why i’m here, sunghoon.”

he raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. “do i?”

“yes,” you reply, your voice firm.

“and i’m not letting you get away this time.”

sunghoon chuckles softly, shaking his head slightly.

“you’re always so serious, detective. i mean— seriously—you should relax more.”

his words are casual, but there’s something in his tone that makes your heart skip a beat.

he’s toying with you, like a cat with a mouse.

you try to ignore the way your pulse quickens, the way his proximity affects you.

“this ends tonight,” you say, your voice steady despite the inner turmoil inside you.

“i’m bringing you in.”

“is that so?” he murmurs, leaning closer until you can feel the heat of his breath against your cheek.

“and how exactly do you plan to do that?”

your breath catches in your throat, your resolve wavering for a split second.

but you can’t afford to let your guard down—not now— you felt it, you were so close.

you reach for the gun hidden beneath your dress, but once again— sunghoon is faster.

he grabs your wrist, pulling you against him, his grip firm but not painful.

“you really should know better by now,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear.

“you can’t catch me, angel.”

you struggle to pull away, but he holds you close, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race.

for a moment, you’re caught in his gaze, unable to look away.

there’s something there, something dark and dangerous, but also something that draws you in, makes you want to know more— makes you want to find out.

but you can’t afford to let yourself get distracted, not now. you wrench your arm free, taking a step back, your gun trained on him once more.

“don’t move,” you warn, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to keep it steady.

but sunghoon just smiles, that infuriatingly smug smile that makes you want to wipe it off his face.

“you won’t shoot me,” he says confidently.

“and what makes you so sure of that?” you demand, narrowing your eyes at him.

“because you’re a good person,” he replies simply.

“and good people don’t shoot unarmed men.”

you hate that he’s right, hate that he knows you so well.

but more than that, you hate the way your heart flutters when he looks at you like that, as if he knows every thought running through your head.

before you can respond, sunghoon takes advantage of your hesitation, disarming you with a slick motion.

the gun clatters to the floor, and you find yourself pinned against the wall, his body pressed against yours.

“let me go,” you demand, but your voice lacks conviction.

his presence overwhelms you, his scent, his heat, everything about him consuming your senses.

he leans in closer, his lips just inches from yours. “you don’t really want that, do you?” he murmurs, his voice low and the most serious it had been the entire night.

your breath hitches, your resolve once again crumbling under his intense gaze.

you should resist, should push him away, but instead, you find yourself leaning in, your lips brushing against his in a moment of weakness.

it’s a kiss filled with all the pent-up frustration, the unspoken tension that has been building between you since the moment you first met.

it’s wrong, so wrong, but it feels so right, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, forgetting everything else.

but then— reality comes crashing back, and you pull away, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and desire.

“this- this doesn’t change anything,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

sunghoon’s eyes darken, his expression unreadable.

“doesn’t it through?” he asks tilting his head, almost taunting you.

before you can respond, he steps back, releasing you from his grip gently.

“until next time, detective,” he says, his tone both teasing and sincere.

and then he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd before you can even process what just happened.

you stand there, breathless and confused, your mind racing with conflicting emotions.

you should be furious, should be focused on catching him, but all you can think about is the way his lips felt against yours.

the final confrontation comes on a misty night by sile river.

you’ve tracked sunghoon to this place, a place he visited quite often—secluded spot away from the prying eyes of the public.

the river flows quietly, the water reflecting the lights of the city in the distance.

it’s a beautiful, peaceful sight, but the tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

you spot him standing by the water’s edge, his back to you— for a moment, you hesitate, your heart pounding in your chest.

this is it. the moment you’ve been waiting for.

but as you approach, something in you shifts—you can’t deny the feelings that have been growing inside you, the connection you’ve felt with him despite everything, despite all your differences.

“sunghoon,” you call out, your voice carrying over the sound of the water.

he turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“y/n,” he greets you, his tone surprisingly soft.

you take a deep breath, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “this.. has to end.”

sunghoon nods slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “i know, y/n.”

you swallow hard, your emotions warring inside you— the way he whispered your name.

“i can’t keep doing this. i can’t keep chasing you, knowing that… knowing that i…”

“that you what?” he prompts gently, taking a step closer.

you close your eyes, the words catching in your throat.

“that i.. that i care about you,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunghoon’s expression softens, and he closes the distance between you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek.

“i don’t like it— trust me, but i care about you too,” he confesses, his voice full of sincerity.

your heart aches with the truth of it, with the impossible situation you found yourselves in.

“but you’re a criminal,” you say, your voice trembling in hurt.

“i’m supposed to catch you, to stop you.”

he nods, his thumb gently brushing over your skin. “i know. and you will. but not tonight, okay?”

you shake your head, tears stinging your eyes.

“i don’t want to hurt you.”

“you won’t,” he assures you, his voice steady.

“but i can’t stop what i’m doing—i can’t let the people i care about— the city suffer at the hands of monsters.”

“i know,” you whisper, your heart breaking for him, for both of you.

“but i can’t keep pretending that this is just a game, that it doesn’t matter.”

“it matters,” he says softly, his eyes filled with emotion.

“it matters more than anything.”

before you can say anything else, he pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a kiss that is both desperate and soft.

you kiss him back, pouring all your conflicted feelings into the embrace, knowing that this may possibly be the last time.

when you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your breath mixing with his.

“what happens now?”

sunghoon sighs, his hand still cradling your face.

“i don’t know. but i do know that i can’t stay away from you. not anymore.”

you close your eyes, letting the weight of his words sink in.

you know that this is far from over, that the road ahead will be difficult and uncertain.

but in this moment with him, with him holding you close, you can’t bring yourself to care about what is eventually coming to take place.

it had been weeks since that night by the sile river, the night when sunghoon had held you close, confessed the unspoken feelings, and kissed you with a desperation that left you breathless.

since then, you’ve been wrestling with the conflicting emotions inside of you, caught between your duty as a detective and the growing affection you feel for sunghoon.

you’re in a dimly lit warehouse, pacing back and forth—the shadows dance around you, lit by the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.

your thoughts are consumed by sunghoon, the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel.

it’s a constant tug-of-war between your professional responsibilities and your personal feelings.

jisung, your best friend and partner, is hunched over a stack of files on a table.

“you alright, y/n?” he asks, his voice breaking through your pacing thoughts.

you nod, forcing a smile. “yeah, just thinking. we’re close to getting sunghoon this time. i can feel it.”

jisung raises an eyebrow, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“you sure you’re up for this? you’ve seemed... distracted lately— no one would blame you.”

you bite your lip, unsure how to explain the conflict rising inside you.

“i’m fine ji... just focused.”

but you know the truth, every encounter with sunghoon, every conversation with him, has only deepened your feelings— and it’s making your job increasingly difficult.

the art party is in full swing. it’s an extravagant affair, filled with the elite of italy’s society.

elegant gowns and tuxedos move gracefully through the luxurious venue, their laughter mingling with the clinking of champagne filled glasses.

the centerpiece of the evening is a rare painting, the very piece sunghoon has been eyeing for years.

you and jisung are undercover, dressed to blend in with the crowd.

you’re wearing a stunning white dress that feels both empowering and confining.

it’s hard to focus on anything other than sunghoon and the swirling emotions inside you.

you spot sunghoon across the room, and your heart stops— his dark suit and confident demeanor making him stand out even among the wealthy guests.

he’s conversing with a group of influential individuals, but you can’t shake the feeling that he’s aware of your presence.

his gaze occasionally flickers toward you, sending shivers down your spine.

jisung nudges you, breaking your concentration. “keep it together, y/n. remember the plan.”

you nod, trying to refocus. “right.. we wait for him to make a move.”

but sunghoon isn’t making it easy—he’s playful, almost taunting you with his confident demeanor.

his eyes lock onto yours from across the room, a smirk playing at his lips.

the way he looks at you makes your heart race and your resolve waver, he knows he’s getting to you.

you glance at jisung, who’s preoccupied with monitoring the guests.

the party goes on, the noise and glamour creating a number of distractions.

you can feel the tension building, the stakes high— you know that tonight is crucial.

the night carries on as planned— and just as you think you’ve cornered him, all exits blocked and all streets surrounding the venue closed, a sudden commotion erupts.

you hear gunshots—your heart leaps into your chest.

panic flows all around you, and you see jisung— your best friend fall to the ground, a look of shock and pain on his face.

your breath catches as you rush to jisung’s side, desperately trying to stop the bleeding— the blood staining your dress a bright red, a sight out of a horror movie for most people.

“jisung! ji.. stay with me!” you shout, tears clouding your view but his eyes undeniably are already growing dim.

a criminal, someone you don’t recognize but who clearly knows the world you’re dealing with, slips through the chaos— running towards the exit.

you’re too late to catch him, your focus is entirely on jisung, but as you look around, you see the grim reality—your team is more concerned with capturing sunghoon than with jisung’s life.

with jisung’s final breath, he manages a faint, painful smile as his fingers laced with yours grow faint.

“i’m- i’m sorry, y/n. i’m sorry...”

tears blur your vision as you hold him in your arms, your heart breaking into pieces.

you scream for help, but the response from your team is cold and detached.

they tell you they can’t redirect resources to find the man who did this because they need to focus on capturing sunghoon.

“you can’t be serious,” you say, your voice breaking with disbelief.

“jisung is dead, and you don’t care?”

“detective y/n!— remember the main priority at point!”

the team’s response is a dismissive shrug, their focus entirely on the bigger picture.

anger and sorrow floods through you— you storm out, leaving behind the cold, indifferent faces of those you once considered allies.

you arrive at the sile river, why? you really don’t know— maybe you were there because you were in need of comfort, of sunghoon.

all you could do was hope he would come find you.

your white— now red dress was an eerie contrast against the dark night.

the river’s surface reflects the dim city lights, but it offers little comfort.

you collapse onto the grass, sobbing uncontrollably.

the weight of jisung’s death and the betrayal of your team bear down on you, crushing your spirit— crushing everything you’ve ever believed.

as you weep, a figure approaches— you look up, your tear-streaked face illuminated by the faint light.

it’s sunghoon, his eyes are filled with a mix of sadness and something deeper—something that mirrors your own turmoil.

“you’re here,” you say, your voice trembling.

you pull out your gun, but your hands are shaking too much to hold it steady.

sunghoon watches you with a sad, resigned smile.

“if you really want to do it, i’m not stopping you,” he says softly.

you felt your heart break at his words—your resolve shatters. the gun falls from your hands, landing with a soft thud on the grass.

you collapse into a heap, your sobs shaking your entire body.

sunghoon sits beside you, his presence both comforting and agonizing.

he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “it’s okay,” he murmurs.

“i’m here y/n, i’m not leaving.”

as you let yourself be comforted by him, the feelings you’ve been fighting against surge forward.

you realize that despite everything, you’ve never felt more connected to anyone.

his touch was soothing, his warmth comforting presence to your broken heart.

after a while, you pull away slightly, meeting his gaze.

“i.. sunghoon- i don’t know what to do anymore. i know what we have is wrong, but it feels so right.”

sunghoon’s expression softens, his eyes filled with understanding.

“i know. but it doesn’t have to be wrong. it doesn’t have to end like this.”

you lean in, and he meets you halfway—the kiss is both tender and desperate, a mix of all the feelings you’ve been trying to suppress.

it’s a kiss filled with promise and hope, even in the face of overwhelming uncertainty.

as you pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your breath mixing with his.

“what now?” you ask, your voice a whisper.

sunghoon sighs, his hand still cradling your face. “we’ll figure it out. together.”

in that moment, you feel a glimmer of peace amidst the chaos.

the future is uncertain, and the road ahead is filled with challenges.

but for now, with sunghoon by your side, you feel a sense of belonging that you haven’t felt in a long time.

the journey is far from over, but as you stand together, you try to convince yourself that with whatever happens next, you’ll face it side by side.

weeks have passed since that night by the river.

you’ve struggled to find balance between your duty and your emotions.

sunghoon remains there in your mind, but your heart is no longer in the chase.

the trauma of jisung’s death and the betrayal you felt have left you reeling.

you’ve made a decision that changes everything— you arrange a meeting with sunghoon in a secluded location, away from prying eyes.

when he arrives, there’s a mix of surprise and hope in his eyes.

“i’m done,” you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

“i can’t keep doing this anymore..”

sunghoon’s eyes search yours, his expression unreadable.

“what are you saying?”

you take a deep breath, your heart pounding.

“i’m saying that i’m done chasing you. i’m done pretending that i don’t care. i want to be with you, sunghoon. but i can’t do that and be a detective at the same time.”

sunghoon’s gaze softens, a glimmer of relief in his eyes.

“i understand, took you long enough..” he whispered with a childish pout which you let out a small grin at.

you step closer, taking his hand. “i don’t know what the future holds, but i just want to be with you. no more fighting my feelings, no more running. just us.. and i think jisung would’ve wanted me to be happy too..”

sunghoon looks at your intertwined hands, his expression filled with affection.

“are you sure about this, y/n?”

“yes,” you say, your voice filled with honestly.

“i’m sure, park sunghoon.”

he pulls you into his arms, holding you close.

“then we’ll figure it out. together.”

as you stand there, wrapped in his embrace, you feel a sense of resolution.

the future is uncertain, but with sunghoon by your side, everything feels okay once again.

for now, all that matters is that you’re together. and that’s enough.

© won4kiss 2024

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