#lectrices

[francepittoresque]

8 septembre 1780 : mort de la romancière Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont, auteur de "La Belle et la Bête" ➽ http://bit.ly/Jeanne-Marie-Leprince Gouvernante française installée à Londres, Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont (1711-1780) met à profit son expérience de pédagogue pour rédiger des traités d’éducation sous forme de dialogues truffés de contes, et est considérée comme le premier auteur à avoir adopté un style simple pour plaire aux jeunes lecteurs

[hxlda-hxlda]

“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.” 

famous interview au oneshot thingy inspired by @sebbianas post which you can find here!!!! read the idea and could NOT get it out of my head until she was sitting in a google doc, and now here. enjoy:

“Now, since you came out in that viral Instagram post…” 

Sirius sighs, doing nothing to hide his exhaustion for what he knows is to come. 

The original intention behind the whole fucking thing was to stop the constant questions. The:  

‘Sirius, you wore a skirt to that event so who are you dating because, clearly, the two have to be correlated?’, ‘Sirius, you’ve always been a bit different’, ‘Sirius!’, Sirius–’, ‘Sirius…’ 

He’d hoped—stupidly, naively—that to get rid of the ambiguity would get rid of the incessant wondering. Sure, he fucked men, yes, he wore eyeliner and skirts, no the two weren’t really related, now can we please move the fuck on? 

No. No, we apparently cannot move the fuck on. The questions and the speculation and, and, and; it’s all still fucking there. 

“Sirius, there’s been talk of a relationship with bass player Remus Lupin for a while now. New rumours are sparking since the two of you have been spotted together a lot lately.” 

They’re both thinking of those pap pictures leaving the bar last month. 

“We were wondering if you could give us the inside scoop?” Greg is staring at him like he’s asking something new, like Sirius is actually very eager to share with the world the complexities of his relationships, as if it has anything to do with his modelling. It doesn’t, if you were wondering. Fucking men has nothing to do with a runway, either, actually. “Really, what is going on between the two of you?”

Sirius has been given press training many, many times, to field these kinds of questions. His agent, Gideon, had him memorise all the correct responses back to front, upside down. Curveball questions, sneaky implications, you name it; Sirius knows how he should respond to this. Hell, it’s on a fucking flash card.

His gut response, the thing Sirius is suddenly incredibly eager to do, is definitely not on a flash card.

However. But, but, and hear him out:

By fucking god, he was bored.

Greg had asked the same ten questions every other interviewer of the last year had asked with the same glint in his eyes as every other interviewer of the last year. Fame was great, but nobody told him it would be this goddamn boring. Repetitive. So many 'yes's and 'no's and 'wouldn't you like to know's.

So, Sirius proceeds, entirely disobeying those oh-so-holy flash cards.

“It would be an honour to give you the scoop, Greg, my dear,” Sirius says with a grin, shoving his hand into his back pocket. 

The interviewer’s eyes light up over his mic. 

“So-” When Sirius pulls out his phone, the glint is dimmed by confusion. “What-” 

“Why don’t we ask him right now?” 

There were strict rules about this, phones when live, phones during interviews, etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah. Sirius knew them all as well (see: a different set of flash cards). Sorry Gideon, Sirius thinks as he goes straight to his Favourites. He isn’t sorry. 

“Ask… who?” 

Sirius just winks. The call is already on its second ring. 

On the fourth, Sirius is almost worried Remus won’t actually pick up, but not really. Remus always picks up. 

Well, he always picks up when Sirius rings. Once, Marlene had called fifteen times in five minutes before Remus had responded two hours later with a ‘what?’ text. The man stuck true to his self-proclaimed Luddism, after all. 

On the fifth ring Greg is looking sceptical. Sirius knows Remus is also working right now. He’d mentioned a meeting with some producer. He remains confident nonethless. 

On the sixth ring, the call clicks as it is answered. A beat. And then: 

“What?” 

Remus sounds entirely unenthused to be answering a call at this moment, voice sullen. Sirius grins anyway, thrilled he’s picked up at all. As if he wouldn’t. As if he doesn’t always. 

“And hello to you, too.” 

“Aren’t you meant to be on that radio thing right now?” 

“We are, in fact, live at this very moment.” Sirius glances back to Greg who, despite being the host, has immediately lost all of his perceived-control. He’s watching Sirius blankly, only vaguely piecing together the fact that it is famed, award winning, world’s greatest (not that Sirius is at all biassed) bass player Remus Lupin’s voice coming through Sirius’ phone. Sirius smirks amusedly at Greg before turning back to the conversation at hand. One that finally fucking matters. “Good to know you’re listening in and supporting me, as always.” 

“Believe it or not, I have better things to do right now.” 

“You wound me, Moons.” 

That nickname did wonders on Twitter when it first became known, Sirius having slipped and referred to Remus as Moony in some other interview some other time. There's a ship name now. There are fanfictions. Sirius reads them aloud as dramatically as he can muster (which is, believe him, very) at the most inopportune times. Usually when Remus is busy, just to watch that cute little frown line in his forehead appear. 

“Is there a point to you interrupting my work, and also national radio, with this call?” 

“What if I just wanted to speak to you?” 

“I will hang up right now.” 

A lie. He never hangs up first. 

Sirius sighs again, another exhausted thing. “They want to know if we’re dating.” 

“Who?” 

“They. Everyone. The world. Greg.”

Sirius shoots the host another look, whose look of momentary shock has dissolved into interest. Hunger. This is the scoop, apparently. Like the both of them, Sirius and Remus, haven’t already been asked this question to death. 

“Greg?”

“Y’know, the guy with the grating voice on the station that plays the same five pop songs on repeat.” Gideon is going to kill him for that one. Sirius sends another silent apology he does not mean. 

“Ah, Greg.” 

Greg is frowning now. Sirius grins again. 

“So? C’mon Moons, tell us. They’re all waiting eagerly. They want to know,” he repeats.

“They always want to know,” Remus replies bluntly. 

“They’re in an extra persistent mood today.” 

When Sirius cuts his third look at Greg, he has the audacity to look entirely unapologetic, as if Sirius’ public life as a model translates to that of his private life. As if it makes total sense to badger him for months—no, scratch that, years—on who Sirius is and isn’t fucking, and whether or not, god forbid, they aren’t a female. 

“You can’t tell them yourself?” Remus’ voice distracts him from his angry spiral of thoughts. 

He could, of course. He has, a million fucking times, given an answer. Sirius even has his flash cards, for fuck’s sake. But this is much more fun. 

“Just answer the damn question, Lupin.” 

“You didn’t ask a question, Black.” 

Sirius rolls his eyes, incredibly aware this is dragging through the interview’s very minimal time slot. Good. 

“Are we dating, Remus?” he asks seriously (ha). 

A moment of silence. Sirius holds the phone closer to the mic, closer to his own ear. He can’t help himself, he wants to know how Moony will handle this as well. Then: 

“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.” 

Greg’s eyes widen to saucers. Sirius keeps his face neutral, an impressive feat that would rival even Regulus’ own acting skills, if he says so himself, and Reg won a Tony last year. 

“Ah, how could I forget?” Sirius says instead of breaking into the laughter that he so desperately wants to roll into a heap with. “My husband.” 

“Truly, how could you? Should we consider divorce now?” Remus replies, voice as indistinguishably sullen as always. Sirius knows he’s smiling with his eyes, he can hear it. 

“Now that would make the papers.” 

“Certainly… Is that all?” 

“Yes, yes, go do your music-y things now.” 

Sirius can hear the eye roll as well. “Fine.” 

Sirius hangs up. He tucks the phone back into his pocket, taking his time. Then, then, he looks back up at Greg. The interviewer is a picture of shock, maybe a touch of confusion; wide eyes, jaw loose with a mouth that hangs, equally wide. 

“Well, Greg, how was that for a scoop?” Sirius raises a single, manicured eyebrow. 

“Wa– Was he being serious?” the man all but splutters. 

“What? No, of course not, I’m Sirius, silly.” 

“That’s not–” 

“Greg! I’m offended! Do you forget the names of all your guests? We’ve been talking for almost an hour now!” 

The longest fucking hour of Sirius’ life, mind you. But the rest of it goes by much faster and much more pleasantly, as Greg struggles to move on from that little show. It makes the dressing down from Gid all the more worth it. 

And by the time Sirius manages to check his phone again, emerging from hell (or Studio C, call it what you want) hours later, #wolfstar is already trending on Twitter. He screenshots it, sends it to Remus. 

pads !!!!!!!!!   

look what uve done  u menace 

MOONY ❤️‍🔥😍🌕

Fake news.  Lily and I are planning to run away together, actually.  

Sirius huffs a laugh. Sure, fake news.

[kingspacebar]

Rawr X3

[itsgiovannie]

Alie makes a cute maid

(I’m back from the dead)

[maeboo-art]

Novi Stars reboot when? 🪐✨️⚡️

[maaniis]

Alie Lectric!

she sometimes has glasses

[artist-squared]

[unl1f3-x-c0ll3cts]

update on the novi stars account!

they made a new post!? there’s allegedly going to be 2 new novi stars aliens coming out?? im like 30% sure that this is real

i wanted to add a pic of the novi star dolls to see if they look like already released ones

they responded to me in the comments abt looking at their recent which was the first photos

i asked them on their recent too if there’s a release date but they have yet to responded so we shall see!

[cengizhan-not]

[cheminer-poesie-cressant]

(Jean-François de Troy, la lectrice, vers 1723, Gemäldegalerie, Berlin)

le silence s’écoule comme une rivière silencieuse ; il possède aussi son silence ; l’effet offre ainsi sa doublure pour nous saisir toujours plus loin en amont ; la barque qui y coule doucement est l’esprit qui a retrouvé espoir en son souffle ; le silence du silence est le ciment tenace de nos dérives qui ne s’endurcit jamais

© Pierre Cressant

(mercredi 14 septembre 2022)

[ragdolls-and-such]

now that i'm like 90% sure my parents and tiktok followers won't find me on tumblr i'd like you guys to see that hitchhikers guide is not the first alien media i've fixated on

novi stars time :)

i also drew invader zim fan art in middle school but we don't talk about that phase of my art style

[francepittoresque]

8 septembre 1780 : mort de la romancière Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont, auteur de "La Belle et la Bête" ➽ https://bit.ly/2HaMWV7 Gouvernante française installée à Londres, Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont (1711-1780) met à profit son expérience de pédagogue pour rédiger des traités d’éducation sous forme de dialogues truffés de contes, et est considérée comme le premier auteur à avoir adopté un style simple pour plaire aux jeunes lecteurs

[hxlda-hxlda]

Remus rolled his head to the side, staring up at Regulus dully. “You think I’m stupid enough to check the media lately?”

Regulus just looked back, equally unimpressed. “Last time I checked, it was your job.”

“Actually, my job is to write lyrics, play bass and occasionally have my way with the vocals.” Remus huffed, rolling his gaze up toward the ceiling. “Stupid fucking award ceremonies for people I don’t give a shit about? Not my job.”

From his peripherals, Remus could see Regulus fold his arms across his chest. “You're being pissy today.”

“Learned it from you, I think,” he grumbled. “Besides, the RSVP is probably already well past due, it’s not like I could just show up.”

“Come as my plus-one, then,” said Regulus.

“What?” said Remus.

“My plus one,” he repeated, unfolding his arms again. The movement drew Remus’ eyes back to him. “I’ll take you with me. Lord knows it will make the thing more tolerable for the both of us.”

Remus bit his lip, considering this for one, two, before; “Counter suggestion, we go to yours for the night and binge watch Gilmore Girls. We can even rewatch all the good Jess episodes.”

Regulus didn’t even pretend to consider his; “No.”

“Fuck me, can nothing be easy?”

“As grand as that would be, I actually have to go to this award’s show.”

“What? Why?” Remus furrowed his brow, trying briefly to recall a) what the fuck the award’s show was actually about, and b) why the fuck Regulus would have been relevant to it. He kept track of all his nominations (because, yes, despite his so-claimed Luddism, Remus would always check the media for his friends), and Regulus hadn’t been nominated for anything yet that year (note the ‘yet’).

“Sirius is nominated. It’s a big one.”

Ah, Sirius Something Black; the brother.

[kingspacebar]

Pr1sm x Pa1nt Icons!!

[kawaiigirl14]

[purplestar555]

Yesterday I was in a shop, searching for Halloween decorations and something cought my attention, this doll. I bought it because is I think is very pretty. But I don't know anything about her. Anybody know something? Is the first time I saw this kind of doll.