#oh and the Musketeers definitely won’t work for them.

[foxgloveinspace]

Ok so since I’m on the motorcycle hyperfixation again rn, let’s pick a fandom annnnnd:

Ok, so Andrew graduates, goes pro, moves states away, and he leaves the car behind. Leaves the keys with Neil, tells him it’s his until he goes pro too and they can move in together. And Andrew gets a bike. And since it’s Andrew he goes big right off the bat, let’s say (with my minimal two second research in to it) a 2005 Ducati Monster 1000s (it’s Andrew he thinks it’s funny) (goin 05 to be safe for whatever year you see tfc taking place in). That’s it, that’s the headcanon, anyone who knows more then me is free to talk to me about this, BUT NO ASSHOLE-RY ON MY POST.

[pigeonpeach]

Forced proximity

Prompt: forced to take shelter together from various environmental hazards, how will they handle being so close to you?

Characters: Shenhe, Diluc, Chevreuse, Dehya, Kaeya, Zhongli

Chevreuse

“My musket is waterproof, so we won’t be stopped with the rain.” She said as you ran with her to find shelter. You two had been trying to set up a trap for local criminals using you, a newbie as bait with her in the shadows. Normally you would be against this but you had actually used this before and you didn’t end up with even a scratch from it. As long as Chevreuse was the one you were working with, it was fine.

“I’m more worried about the hypothermia personally.” You complained. Your dainty dress was by no means waterproof. Infact it acted like a sponge, you would be warmer snuggling with cryo slimes than in this getup.

“Over there! There’s a ship wreck, that could offer some shelter if we’re lucky.” She said. The shipwreck seemed recent, probably from the flood of fontaine which displaced many. It seemed this one was relatively in good condition, rust only starting to form on its metal exterior. You ran in with her as you two quickly sought to remove your wet exterior clothes. “We’ll have to remove your dress, sorry if that’s uncomfortable but its just too drenched.” You were a bit surprised but understood.

“Yes I know, just give me sometime.” You said. It wasn’t easy but you knew it had to be done. What made it more difficult was how it clung to you. Hiding behind a broken wall, you undressed to your underwear. You looked to see if she was watching but she had her back turned, trying to get a fire started. You began to squeeze the water out, trying to not get it on you in the process. Next time you should ask for a jacket when she approaches you with the disguise.

“Are you done yet.”

“Almost.. there’s alot of water in this.” You groaned. You noticed she had successfully started a fire. Making sure to isolate it from any flammable objects. You were so cold at that point you just draped your wet dress over your self and sat a bit away from her.

“that bad huh. I’ll just keep my eyes elsewhere then.” She said. “I didn’t think it’d rain today, especially considering how warm it was a second ago.”

“That dastardly hydro dragon. Someone should give them emotional support animal at this rate.” you cursed under your breath.

“It’s probably that one ongoing trial with the serial killer. He’s go a bastard of a lawyer who’s really good at loopholes. Supposedly the final trial is today.”

“They’re not letting that pyscho back out surely?!” You jolted.

“Relax, all it takes is one slip up and he’s got no defense then. Besides, Neuvillette will definitely not let him go if he still considers him guilty.”

“You’re right but considering I fit the bill for his primary victims i can’t exactly sleep soundly until his head is off or he’s imprisoned! I wish Furina was still in the courts, she would’ve never let that man get this far.”

“I’m sure she has her own reasons, but considering how much help you’ve been I’m not going to let you go unguarded. I’ll schedule patrols by your district more and by your areas.”

“You would do that for me? I’m impressed. I didn’t know I did such a good job at being a damsel for hire.” You snickered.

“I mean it. Oh and by the way, your clothes look dry now.” She said. You almost forgot about that.

“Oh, give me a second.”you went back behind your wall to redress yourself, this time leaving the hoop skirt out of it.

“If you’re still cold we should huddle together. That way we can share body heat.” She said as you approached her once more. “My body is warmer than usual because of my vision after all”

“I’ll take you up on that offer then.” You smiled sitting much closer to her than she might’ve expected. “Do you mind a bit of cuddling?”

“With you? No.” She said, her arm wrapped around you almost on instinct. “You’re a bit more special than other people to me.”

“Do you tell that to every damsel you hire?” You tease.

“Oh god of course not! What do you think I am?” She cackled. “You make it sound like you’re some.. prostitute!”

“I am selling my body technically.” You added, jokingly, your head resting on her shoulders almost by instinct.

“Why did you take up that offer anyways? You have a good job, enough to live on the surface anyways.”

“Because I wanted to get stuck in the rain with you obviously! But in seriousness.. i uhh.. had a loan i had to pay and i spent a good majority on my paycheck already. So i needed fast cash and i saw the paper and i took it.” You explained.

“Huh, you sure you weren’t trying to hit on me? Because you were eyeing me during that little training session.” She adds.

“If that’s what you would like it be then yes I was hitting on you.” You said, your eyes trailed to her cheeks to catch a glimpse of her blushing face.

“Hm… I guess you were then.. lets get some rest.. the rain should let up by then.”

You couldn’t help feeling delightful that you finally broke her cold exterior. And with your body so close to hers, you truly felt victorious.

Diluc

“There. Its not much but it should offer some shelter in the meantime.” He said pointing to a old caravan. The roof of it was intact. You two quickly hid under there. Quickly finding your bodies pressed against each other.

“S-sorry.. i can’t move over any more.” You said nervously. But In reality, you didn’t want to move from his warm body at all. It felt like laying on a warm patch of sunlight.

“Its fine. I’ve been told I’m warm enough already. Here.” He took off his jacket, wrapping it across you.

“Thank you… and thank you for saving me from those hilichurls earlier too.” Your heart was racing, it sounded like his was too.

“Its nothing. Those knights, they were supposed to clear the area for merchants.” He scowled.

“Well, it was my fault for making the delivery without a jacket. I should’ve taken Sara’s advice and gone the long way. Its a good thing I still have it.” You managed to pull out the food in question, it was just a simple chicken skewers.

“I suppose you won’t be able to deliver it now, there’s no harm in having it if you’re hungry.” He said. But you offered it to him.

“Have one, you must be hungry. I can’t imagine its easy wielding a claymore on a empty stomach.. besides, there’s already one for myself”

“Why did they order chicken skewers, its the most simple dish to make?” He said almost judge-mentally.

“Well its a special one, we used a marinade for the chicken, try it.” You again offered it to him. He took it. You watched his eyes light up. “Good right? It would be better if it was warm.”

“I’m sure could try it while stopping by.”

“That sounds nice… you’re really warm by the way..” you blurt out. He looks surprised.

“I hope so. Are you warm too?” He asked. You nod.

“We should wait out the storm. I’m sure it shouldn’t be too long.” He said, you realized his face has been red this whole time.

“Although.. My winery isn’t too far from here.. but you said your foot hurt right?”

“I did earlier yes. I might’ve sprained it.” You sigh. “It feels fine now.”

“Hmm… that’s no good. Lets wait until it lightens up then. I can’t risk you injuring yourself further now.”

“I-if you want you could go ahead. It might be better so you’re not stuck out here too.” You say. He seems upset at the idea.

“Absolutely not. You could freeze to death. Lets stay here where I can keep you safe.” His words stuck out to you. Is it possible that he meant that in a more romantic context? Are you just overthinking it?

“I-I’m getting rather tired though.. I almost just want to sleep..” you said. Your eyelids felt a bit heavy, he was just… so warm, his body pressed up against you.. his arms around you… you hoped you would feel this again.

“I’ll keep watch. Just rest a little bit.” He said. As you drifted off to sleep you noticed a light kiss on your head.

“Cute.” He mumbled to himself.

Dehya

“Ugh! I’m so sick of the sand.” You and Dehya were taking shelter inside a cave, you were a professor at the Akademiya, you came out to the desert to study the giant ruin machines so you could do a lesson on them only to get caught in a sandstorm. Lucky for you, Dehya who you had hired, was well versed in the desert.

“Well that’s what you get. Lucky that you hired me, I’m certain you would have never found this cave.” She grinned proudly.

“I’m certain i’d be dead with that stupid wenut poking around. Ugh, what do those things even eat?!” You shook your clothes to get the sand out.

“Idk I’m not the scholar here so.” Dehya grinned.

“Hey my expertise is in machinery.. not oversized worms with no business of existing!” You fussed over your hair, to your shame, it hadn’t survived well. The hair tie you wore must’ve broken while you were busy trying to block the sand out of your eyes. “Ugh.. so much sand in my hair too… this is so unbecoming of me.”

“Unbecoming? You’re a scholar not a model.” Dehya said.

“Thanks.” You said sarcastically. “But I need to look professional and well put together. I’m not the prettiest sure but I should at least look like I am a scholar and not some rat drowing in sand!” You found your hair had also knotted together in what you horrifically realized was a huge mess. Not even your hairbrush could save you.. “oh god…” you winced as you got your hairbrush out, it felt painful to brush it out.

“Yikes.. let me help you there.” Dehya said. You turned to her.

“How is your hair fine!” You felt ashamed.

“I dunno, I wasn’t trying to fight the wind back there, but its really not that bad. Here just sit infront of me and I’ll help.”

“Well.. i guess you’re the expert on desert stuff.. do you encounter this problem alot?” You asked, obliging by her request.

“Oh definitely. Alot of eremite gals use praids or tie their hair up in some way. I could put yours in one if you like?”

“If any of it is salvageable that would be nice. You’re actually rather smart yourself.. you would do well in the ak-“

“Nope.”

“Why? I’m not trying to insult your job, especially right now, but I really think you could do alot more in your life!”

“Then who would you hire for all your little adventures then?” She said.

“Well.. there’s dozens of eremites, i could find another. I just think you have potential that you can’t explore in this position.” You sighed.

“I know you mean well but honestly I like it. There’s no way I’d give up the thrill of adventure and fighting for studying some stupid class like.. calculus.” Her voice carried a confidence you envied. But you noticed her hands were quite skilled, you didn’t feel any pain as she brushed out your knots.

“I’ll give you that, math isn’t the most interesting. But even just like reading some books might do you good! I’m not asking you to become my student I just think maybe investing in a library card could be useful!” You felt at ease strangely. You had been a regular of Dehya’s. Mostly because she was the most trustworthy by review, and also she was a woman. You didn’t exactly want to travel alone with just a man you didn’t know. And also she was rather pretty to look at.

“That is actually a interesting suggestion. I might take you up on that sometime.” She smiled. “Say, how come you always pick me? I heard from the other Eremites that you even canceled a whole trip you had planned because I wasn’t available.”

“W-well..” you blushed. “I just trust you the most. These conditions aren’t exactly easy for me and I’d rather traverse dangerous terrain with someone I trust and someone I know. Besides it gives me the opportunity to not rely on my colleagues’ decisions. I’m not as social as you might think.”

“You sure that’s it? You’re willing to sacrifice papers and lessons just because you don’t trust the other eremites? You know we didn’t start off besties here, what made you pick me in the first place? And it not like its just because I’m a girl, there’s plenty of female eremites out there well versed in combat like myself. I could recommend them to you.”

“I- just.. have a preference for you. Nothing wrong about that is there? Its more mora in your pocket so why should you care?” You pouted. She chuckled behind you.

“Easy now. I didn’t mean to sound like I was complaining. Its nice seeing how loyal you are to me.” You just feel her cocky smirk from behind. But your ego was quickly forgotten as she finished brushing out your knots, now starting to braid them. “If it does any good, you are my favorite customer. That and the traveler but its not like they hire me or anything. I’ve rather enjoyed our adventures. Maybe you should join the eremites~”

“Absolutely not! If i could handle it on my own then i would. Y-you do realize that- oh.. I see what you’re doing.” You sigh.

“See, its not fun when people question your career choices. Much less trying to push their own onto you. This is my dream job, I don’t need to take a class to perfect it.”

“Well to be honest I just would like to see you more that’s all.” You blurted out. Dehya realized you had been blushing this whole time. She seemed a bit surprised. “Those other scholars at the Akademiya are most old geezers with flies in their head reiterating the same sentiments with little flexibility. I much rather talk to you even if you don’t understand those concepts. I just… like to be around you that’s all.”

“Woah. That makes scholarly life alot less appealing you know?”

“I’m not trying to recruit you here! I just.. wanted a excuse to see you around more.” Silence fell between you two. You worried if you had been too open then, letting her know how you felt… “Y-you know there’s talk from Faruzan about opening a school or class in the desert. I think you could help with that.”

“That’s actually rather interesting. Whats her plan?”

“Oh just literacy. Its so they can read more complex topics. Oh and Kaveh was working on a library for the Aaru village too. I wanted to ask what books you think would appeal to the desert kids?” You added.

“Maybe if you have some textbooks that’d be easy or-“

“I mean like fiction. What did you want to learn about as a kid?” You said looking at her. You were a bit surprised to see such a fond look in her eyes. It made your heart thump ad your confidence wavered.

“Well.. I wanted to- hey.. the storms over.” Dehya said looking out at the entrance. You almost forgot about the storm.

“Oh.. maybe we should spend the night here just in case.” You said.

“You just want to keep talking don’t you.” Dehya smiled.

“Well yes. But also my feet are killing me still.”

Shenhe

“Its getting cold out, we need to seek shelter immediately.” Shenhe said. But it was only a light downpour. You felt a little whimsical.

“Oh its such a pretty sight. Rain in the snow.. oh I love it.” You quickly got out your camera to take a few photos. “There will be more icicles soon. Ooh it would make fo such a go- OH?” You quickly were picked up by Shenhe as she located a nearby hilichurl camp.

“Wait but what about- wait why is it empty.” You noted how old it looked. Dust collecting, various masks strewn about, broken. Shenhe set you down letting you looked around.

“I use this camp as my training grounds. Unfortunately they stopped trying to claim this area. But we should be aboe to take shelter in here.” She said. You were surprised by how nice it looked. Hay bedding, animal skins. You could easily make a bed with this. The roof did leak but it would do.

“I still think we could find somewhere better. The rain isn’t so ba-“ you were startled back into her arms as lightning struck not too far away. “Okay lets go inside..” you started to bunch up the hay together into a nest almost. Shenhe watched with curiosity.

“What is that for?” She asked.

“I’m making a bed. You can join if you would like. Its good to keep warm.” You said, bringing the animal skins to use as blankets. She joined you as you two cuddled in the makeshift bed.

“It is quite warm actually. You’ve done well.” Shenhe’s praise had you beaming with pride.

“Ah thank you… you don’t have to be so close you know?” You said.

“Do you want me to move away?” She seemed confused.

“Actually its fine. I don’t mind it.” You said.

“I’m getting rather tired.. you’re quite warm actually.” Shenhe pulled you in closer catching you off guard.

“O-oh. That’s good. I think we can take a rest. So long as No hilicurls come by.”

“They won’t. I laid out those masks to warn them not to come back. Its been months since any have returned.” She mumbled. “I should move them then. They make for good practice.”

“Lets not talk about murdering hilichurls right now please?” You asked.

“Right… so.. do you sleep outside often? You seem to know what to do.”

“No but I know that the barn cats use the hay in my family’s cellar for their bedding. I figured it must be comfortable.”

“You were right. This is quite nice.. I can imagine this bed would make many cat’s comfortable.” She said. You smiled at her imagination.

“Thank you.. I think… i may rest my eyes for a bit.. the sound of the rain outside is luring me to sleep, but im still nervous.”

“I’ll keep watch then. You get some rest.” She said. You smiled resting your head on her chest.

Zhongli

You were traveling with Zhongli, a funeral consultant on your way to Chenyu valley. But you two ran into a problem…

“I didn’t know it could rain like that here!” You felt spooked as you clung to the much taller male. “I just hope it doesn’t start to thunder ei-“ on cue lighting struck the bridge right infront of you.

“Lets find shelter then. Stay close to me. We don’t want to get separated here of all places.” His eyes scanning across the landscape. He spotted a cave and immediately pointed. “There. We should find some shelter there.”

You two quickly retreated into the cave, you silently thanked rex lapis that caves were abundant in this area.

“Lucky for us, there isn’t anyone else here.” He said as you two came in deeper. Finding it empty and relatively dry.

“I-its a shame we can’t make a fire. There isn’t any wood in here..” you lament. “I’m cold.”

“There seems to be a bit of a coal deposit here actually.” He said, poking at what just looked like a splot on the wall. “Here, I’ll retrieve it.” Using his Geo abilities he was able to crack some out of the wall. Putting it in s pile as you watched with fascination.

“You’re very well versed in rocks for a funeral director. Is it your geo vision or just your knowledge.” You asked.

“A mix of both, I’m quite well versed in the topic yes, but my vision does help.” He said. “Now we can use two rocks to make a spark.. we should be careful as coal leaves alot of smoke.” You took two stones and rubbed them against each other, looking to make a spark. It worked and a small flame started to grow.

“Excellent. We’ll stay here until the weather dies down.” You said, instinctively sitting next to him, leaning on him. He seemed a bit surprised. “O-oh sorry i didn’t mean to-“

“Oh it’s quite alright. It might help to cuddle for warmth. I hope you don’t mind.” He said politely.

“I-i don’t mind.” You said. His hand wrapped around you, not too tight but not to loose either. It felt rather nice like this. Your cheeks were tinted with red as he pressed himself against you.

“Are you comfortable right now?” He asked. You nodded. Maybe you should consider traveling with him a little more.

Kaeya

“You do know you’ll need more firewood than that.” Kaeya teased as you attempted to start a fire. You sighed.

“Then get some. Don’t just sit here and look pretty.” You grumbled as you rubbed the sticks together. He chuckled.

“Right right. And it was you who insisted they didn’t need a second jacket.” He smiled, you wore his cloak as he had offered it earlier.

“Well I didn’t expect us to stay the night here.”

“You should know a trip to dragonspine isn’t a one day venture. But with that out of the way, I’ll get some firewood.” He said leaving briefly. Just as he left you got the fire going. You smiled.

“See! I told you i could- oh right.” You said. Feeling his absence quickly. You huddled by the fire as you waited for him to come back.

It felt like he was gone forever when he finally came back. Arms full of firewood.

“Miss me?” He said as he noticed the frozen tears on your cheeks.

“No.. just come over here… you’re probably cold..” you said. Patting the ground besides you.

“Oh now you want to cuddle.” He smiled as he took your offer. Setting the firewood aside.

“You scared me you know..” you said.

“Well I just wanted to gather as much wood as possible. That way we can make it through the blizzard. These blizzards can last very long you know?” He snickered as you jolted.

“Don’t scare me like that!” You grumbled.

“I’m not trying to scare you. Just preparing you for the worst. Don’t worry, we have plenty of rations. And this fire is quite strong. You did a good job.” He smiled drawing his hand across your shoulder.

“Thanks..”you grumbled. You scooted closer to him as you felt a chill run down your spine. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“You’re cute when you’re grumpy like this. But you do realize we still haven’t made it halfway to Albedo’s office right?” He said. You stared at him with a look of defeat.

“Ugh! I’m never going to make it!” You whined.

“Oh you’ll live.” He chuckled. “I’m here afterall. I’ll drag you up that mountain if I have to.”

“Well… I guess its good I have you then. I’d probably be dead by now if I went by myself.”

“Oh please, Jean would never send a new night here alone. But your gratitude is appreciated.” He smiled.

[eri-cheri]

Now that we have reached the last chapter of the year. It is time to do a 2020 roll call of what I like to call, “State of the Shippers”:

1. IzuOcha. Status: Placated.

-IzuOcha’s could celebrate several cute tidbits throughout the year. Mini moments as they say.

Anime Highlights: The OVA’s came in clutch with moments for shippers all around and IzuOcha is no exception. We got a cute tidbit where Izuku and Ochako bumped into each other and were flustered.

Manga Highlights: Christmas kept on giving to this fandom as the AM doll Izuku gave Ochako made many appearances. A cute fist bump between the two was also exchanged and Mina was right there bouncing with y’all.

Heroes Rising: Izuku super man carried Ochako to safety. And was Angy she was injured. Fans could enjoy the small Lois Lane moment.

Troubling Signs?: Ochako said “I would like to be excluded from this narrative” when it comes to her feelings for Deku. She’s a hero damnit! So if they are in for something, probably won’t be while they are still in school.

II. DabiHawks. Status: Yikes.

- Dabi and Hawk’s very public breakup set this fandom in disarray but also kind of disayay?

Anime Highlights: None yet. This fandom was cruelly cock blocked by Bones. Sorry DabiHawks stans.

Manga Highlights: Where to begin, my goodness. With these fans, I guess the good and the bad is a plus in this homoerotic double agent relationship. We have the notion that Dabi may have known Hawks when they were kids, which may be a positive? Hori sure loves his childhood friends. Other than that. The GIRLS WERE FIGHTIN’. Hawks is now permanently scarred by Dabi and I don’t think it was kinky folks. Tokoyami inserted himself in the middle to White Knight Hawks, Dabi broke up with him via YT expose and overall, shippers could anguish in the absolute MESS that this ship endured this year. But I’m sure that’s part of the appeal. So...yay?

Heroes Rising: They were both in it.

Troubling Signs?: The entire relationship is a troubling sign which again, is part of the appeal. Maybe Hawks will cuddle up with Dabi’s father after the war. That’s troubling! Speaking of...

III. EndHawks. Status: Yearning and Burning.

-If there’s one thing Endeavor couldn’t stop worrying about, it was his hot (in more ways than one) new side piece who probably should have looked at the fine print when signing a contract to be a recurring guest star on “Keeping up with the Todoroki’s”.

Anime Highlights: A fateful meeting finally in high definition for all our eyes to see! Hawks’s unwavering support of his biggest hero was endearing to watch and their shenanigans together spurred the anime onlies to finally jump on the biggest May-December ship in the series.

Manga Highlights: Endeavor’s admiration and concern for Hawks seeped through the pages as we entered our most exciting arc in the manga yet. Fate split these two up yet entwined their downfall together. And that Fate’s name was Dabi...or should I say ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️ or should I just say Touya!

Heroes Rising: “Don’t bite my head off, Endeavor.” Geez, can you flirt a little less loud Hawks?

Troubling Signs?: They say never meet your heroes and Hawks is in for a rude awakening. We shall see just how deep his admiration runs or if Endeavor’s past will split our dynamic duo up for good.

IV: TodoDeku. Status: “Precious”

-Shoto’s “Midoriya is in Danger” radar was highlighted in both manga and anime. 4th User’s quirk, who?

Anime Highlights: “Midoriya hasn’t returned yet.” “Where’s Midoriya?” “Midoriya! Grab my hand!” “Have some of my Soba Midoriya.” Shoto gets it. His emotional support friend is a danger magnet. TodoDeku’s also enjoyed tiny tidbits in the OVA such as a hand grabbing scene. Gotta hold tight to those crumbs.

Manga Highlights: Two Words. “Precious Friend.” Deku comes in w/o arms or legs fighting for Shoto and Shoto’s honor. These two spent the entire year worried sick about each other, and going against all odds to save each other. Precious Friends indeed. TDDK fans ate.

Heroes Rising: Shoto kicks some dog ass and then faints thinking of Deku (and Bakugo but shh. Let the shippers rejoice.) On the bright side, we have a 3rd movie coming featuring “The Three Musketeers” so shippers of TdDk can HOLD TIGHT to what’s to come.

Troubling Signs?: Shoto still doesn’t know about OFA and he’s gonna have LOTS of questions after this arc. Will Deku finally tell him? If not, it could make or break the ship.

V. TodoBaku. Status: “Shining through the city with a little funk and soul.”

-Who knew the greatest comedy duo we needed was Shoto and his hot headed “friend” or not friend? It still remains unclear to Shoto. Regardless, these two had a fun year.

Anime Highlights: “I wanna see your cute face”, disco dancing, and more fun in the provisional license training. Plus the OVA added some cute moments between the two such as Bakugo staying behind to save Todoroki during a dangerous excercise and his adorable plan neatly animated for us. I’d say TodoBaku’s really were resurgent and energized this year!

Manga Highlights: Shoto, that is not how you properly Catch a Kacchan, I’m sorry. But at least you did it you mad lad. As with Deku, Shoto spent the year worried sick about Bakugo. While the anime let us have our fun, these two were suffering in the manga.

Heroes Rising: Again, Shoto put a dog down and then fainted with Bakugo on his mind (and Deku but we ignore that. Shush.) TodoBaku’s have the 3rd movie to look forward to which is bound to have some amazing content!

Troubling Signs?: They have a lot of trauma to deal with. And a lot of Deku to worry about. I also imagine Shoto will be hurt about being left out of the OFA secret. We shall see what 2021 has to offer.

VI. KiriMina. Status: Unbreakable.

-Changing your hairstyle to match the gal who inspired you in middle school? Sorry y’all but if Mina were a guy, I’d say that’s gay af.

Anime Highlights: We got that backstory Bois. Red Riot’s origin might as well make him be called Pink Riot. Again with Hori and the childhood friends though I wouldn’t exactly call them friends. They just went to the same middle school but Kirishima was highly influenced by Mina’s Chivalrous spirit! A ship is born!

Manga Highlights: The influence is mutual! Mina creates a move based on Kirishima’s unbreakable and we all let out a collective “awwww”. Also in the war arc, we got Kirishima making sure Mina’s chivalrous spirit shines through right into Gigantomachia’s mouth! KiriMina may just be the unsung MVP’s of this arc.

Heroes Rising: They were in it.

Troubling Signs?: I can’t think of a single one. KiriMina’s can enjoy a peaceful sailing.

VII: KiriBaku. Status: Crumb Collectors.

-2020 was an uneventful year for KiriBaku but Bones made sure there were crumbs aplenty! Thank God for OVA’s!

Anime Highlights: KiriBaku’s did thrive in one episode! Kirishima reflects on the sludge incident and evolves his quirk based on inspiring words from Bakugo! Hooray! KiriBaku’s can thrive in their blossoming friendship. The OVA also has Kirishima (and Kaminari but shh) once again following Bakugo’s lead when it comes to the training excercise. How can you not? He’s so manly!

Manga Highlights: Not gonna lie. There is nothing much here this year. I did find a teeny tiny flake in Aizawa’s flashback. Kirishima and Bakugo are sitting next to each other. Oh! And at the hot pot gathering, Bakugo sits next to Kirishima! Eat your crumbs KiriBaku’s! There’s always next year!

Heroes Rising: Kirishima hangs with a lazy Bakugo and delivers the most hilarious line in the whole movie. “Silly Bakugo, there won’t be villains here!” Hahah... Silly Bakugo. Oh you~ KiriBaku’s can inhale the fact that those two sure love to hover around each other!

Troubling Signs?: With great crumbs come little responsiblity. No trouble if there’s no content! 🤔

VIII: KamiJirou. Status: Singing their hearts out 🎶

-If there’s any ship that’s coming close to canonization, I think this is it, folks! “Think of the person most important to you!” Can’t argue with Midnight!

Anime Highlights: Kaminari does non stop encouraging of Jirou and her hobbies! He works super hard to learn guitar for her sake! We love a king who can encourage his queen!

Manga Highlights: Kaminari thinks of the most important person to him and surprise! It’s Jirou! All of the feels can commence.

Heroes Rising: They were in it!

Troubling Signs?: Kaminari does love his women. And men. Kaminari overall is a huge flirt. But Jirou appears to have his heart strings. ❤️

IX: BakuDeku. Status: Rising. 👑

-Alternative Statuses include Winning, Thriving, Soaring. It’s just been non stop content this year. 2020 is truly the year for BakuDeku. The shippers can rejoice.

Anime Highlights: Three words. Be. My. Cane. The OVA’s helped fan the flames of the BkDk hearts with a surprise! Deku tops! Not only that, we got a lovely shoulder tap of encouragement in the canon material. While in season 4, Deku’s primary focus was Eri. Bakugo and Deku still had their moments to be hella gay.

Manga Highlights: Where do I even begin? I guess we’ll just cut to the chase with Bakugo Katsuki: Rising. We finally saw Bakugo’s true feelings manifest for Deku and if getting stabbed for him isn’t the ultimate showing of love, then idk what is. BakuDeku’s rounded out the year with the Volume 29 cover AND the volume 29 cover drafts to eat at our heart strings. Overall, their relationship got the spotlight in the manga this year. And we’re bound to start 2021 with a dramatic confrontation. Hand holding seems to be the key with these two and it didn’t stop with Heroes Rising...speaking of.

Heroes Rising: The entire movie. Like....yeah. That’s it. [OP, your bias is showing. You have to be SPECIFIC.] {But random criticizer in my head, if I lay out the entire plot of the movie, my post will be too long} [OP....] UGHHHH Okay okay. The POPSICLE MELTING. THE HAND HOLDING. THE CHARACTER DESIGNS OF WHAT MIGHT AS WELL BE THEIR LOVE CHILDREN. Did I mention? “It’s fine if it’s you?” CAUSE YEAH. Oh and All Might randomly officiating their wedding in their heads like idk. Isn’t it just simpler if I say the whole movie??!

Troubling Signs?: Well these two’s relationship is extremely delicate and while it has non stop soared this year, Deku might not take too kindly to Bakugo almost dying for him. Will they stop pushing each other away? Time will tell.

That’s all for this year folks! Happy Shipping and good luck to everyone next year!

[nanasparadise]

“Your musketeer in a blue tunic” Yan! Polnareff x female reader (musketeer AU)

Hiya everyone! As promised, here is a Yan! Polnareff writing, since he was in the top four of the poll for the special but hasn’t reached the top three. I thought it might be a fun idea to make him a musketeer and now I’ve realised this fic turned out to be low-key a Belle and Gaston situation from Beauty and the Beast lmao. Anyway, there might be historical inaccuracies in the story, I’m sorry for that.

Summary: You’re a farmer woman in 18th century France and a certain musketeer keeps crossing paths with you…

TW: toxic relationship, noncon kiss, low-key harassment, forced marriage, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Word count: 3900

“Just about half an hour and I’ll be there”, you mumble to yourself. 

The pouring rain drenches your whole form, an icy cold having already nested deep in your bones. But you can’t stop now, even if it’s raining cats and dogs. You know you have to arrive to the main market place, which is located a good three hours from the farm you live in. If the wool – which you hope isn’t too wet, knowing the burlap bags aren’t protecting it well from the rain – won’t be sold today, you don’t know how you could afford some bread for your family. You think of your little siblings, how they always stare at you with big eyes, expecting at least some crumbs of stale bread in order to satiate their hunger a bit. Your heart aches painfully at that mental image. No, you’re going to sell the wool at all cost, no matter if it means you get sick due to the weather. You owe it to your loved ones, needing to protect and provide for them as the oldest sibling. 

A chilly wind blows intensely into your face, making you shiver even more. Lucky for you, no other person is currently on the road, meaning you’re in safety. You’re aware about how many sketchy men lurk in these streets by the countryside, just waiting for a young woman like yourself to pass by and to do God knows what with her. As a protection measure, you always carry a knife with you, hidden in your boot. Fortunately, you haven’t needed to use it, yet…

Suddenly, you hear the footsteps of a horse approaching you, the characteristic sounds of its hooves drawing closer to you. Your first instinct is to immediately pull out your knife, but you refrain yourself. 

“It’s probably just another merchant who wants to go to the market, too”, you think, comforting yourself. And even if that shouldn’t be the case, it would be wiser to take your possible aggressor by surprise with an attack if needed. 

The steps are now dangerously close to you, too close for your liking, until they come to a halt. Surprised, you stop your walking as well and look up to the person on the horse. Next to you on his steed is a man around your age, probably a few years older, with peculiar silver hair and bright blue eyes. Through his uniform, consisting of a characteristic blue tunic with a white cross on it, you immediately recognise the stranger as a King’s musketeer. You hastily curtsy and meekly avert your gaze, given that he’s of a higher social rank. Why would a musketeer want from you, a farmer? 

“Good day, Monsieur”, you greet the musketeer politely. 

“Good day, Mademoiselle”, the stranger answers jovially. “Please forgive my intervention, but what does a young lady like you travel alone on such a dangerous road?”, he asks you, sincere concern marking his voice. 

Why would he care? And why would he refer to you as a lady when you’re clearly just a commoner? You get the sudden urge to grab your knife again, but of course your rational brain side hinders you from doing so.

“I’m only going to the market place, good sir. I’d like to sell some wool”, you explain shortly, your eyes still not meeting the stranger’s. 

“All alone?”, the Frenchman wonders. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice, Monsieur. My father has to work on the farm and my mother looks after my younger siblings”, you reply truthfully. Honestly, you’d prefer not giving too much information away to the stranger, but lying doesn’t seem like a safe option either. 

“I see, Mademoiselle,” the musketeer utters politely, “in that case, I’d be pleased to escort you to the market place. After all, my heart couldn’t handle if something happened to a damsel.” 

“Thank you for your generous offer, Monsieur”, you answer civilly, curtsying gracefully again. Though internally, you sigh and roll your eyes at the Frenchman’s words. 

“More like his ego couldn’t handle getting rejected by a common woman”, you ponder cynically. You’re about to continue your walking as the stranger stops your action abruptly. 

“Wait a moment, Mademoiselle,” he shouted hastily, “I’ll take your bags and settle them on my horse.” The silver-haired man dismounts from his white horse and takes the bags filled with wool from your hands, placing and tying them on the animal’s back. 

“You are far too kind, Monsieur”, you say with an overly sweet voice. Lucky for you, the stranger doesn’t seem to notice the hint of sarcasm hidden in your tone. Instead, he smiles brightly at you, revealing a row of impeccable white teeth. 

“As a musketeer, it’s my duty to help a lady in need”, he boasts proudly. Again, you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Ah, how rude of me, Mademoiselle, I haven’t properly introduced myself. My name is Jean-Pierre Polnareff, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss…?” 

“Y/N L/N”, you reply meekly. 

“What a lovely name, Milady.”

~

The pair of you have been walking silently side by side for a while. You simply wish to arrive as fast as possible to the market place, wanting to get rid of Polnareff’s present. After some time, the stormy weather has changed into a brighter, more pleasant sky. Though some sun rays peek through the clouds, the cold from the previous rain remains. Upon seeing your slightly quivering form, Polnareff offers you a blanket he has in his supplies with him. Politely, you decline his offer. You certainly don’t want to be more in the debt of such a high ranking man. 

“I apologise if this may come across as rude, Mademoiselle Y/N, but I couldn’t help but notice that there isn’t a ring on your finger”, the musketeer suddenly mentions. The hairs on your arms stand up at his observation and you instinctively straighten your back. If Polnareff has seen your discomfort, he still chooses to continue speaking. “And you’ve said previously you’re living with your family on a farm. How come such a fair maiden like you isn’t married yet? I reckon you must have many suitors.” Something about his tone and the dangerous gleam in his blue eyes sets you on edge. 

“Oh, I do have had some suitors in the past,” you answer truthfully, but cautiously, “but I’ve chosen to not marry. My family needs me and I don’t wish to let them down.” Polnareff gives you a tender glance, the prying shimmer being replaced with sympathy now. 

“Maybe you’ll soon find a wealthy man who��s able to help your family out”, he mumbles softly, though you still could hear his words. 

“I’d rather not base my life on such an improbable dream. After all, I’m just a common farmer,” you say, slightly amused. “He doesn’t have a clue how life’s for a commoner, does he?” 

“So you’d like to marry? It’s your dream, didn’t you say that, Mademoiselle?”, Polnareff counters, hope swinging in his voice. Why is he hopeful? But you decide to not voice this thought. 

“Well, that’s quite a difficult question, Monsieur Polnareff,” you retort,  feeling unsure now “it would be the wisest choice for me to marry, but at the moment, I feel content to take care of my family.” For some reason, the musketeer’s face falls at your last sentence. Disappointment takes over it instead, his lips turning into a bitter, thin line. 

“Ah, I see”, he replies wearily. You immediately notice the change of atmosphere, though you don’t comment on it. Instead, you two continue strolling in silence.

Eventually, the pair of you arrive at the market place. During your travel, none of you spoke further, the mood being too tense and awkward. You settle your burlap bags on the floor on a free spot after the silver-haired man has removed them from his horse for you. 

“My sincerest thanks, Monsieur Polnareff.” You bow politely. Even though your eyes have been trained on the floor for only a matter of seconds, some stealthy thief has been able to snatch one of your bags. Immediately, your head leaps up. 

“Hey, this belongs to me! Give it back!”, you scream angrily. You wouldn’t let some trickster take your wool, not after working so hard for your family! You’re ready to run after the knave, but a hand on your forearm hinders you from doing so. 

“Let me handle this, Mademoiselle Y/N,” Polnareff says confidently, “you’ll have your merchandise back in no time. Just wait for me here.” Quickly, the musketeer dashes into an alleyway after the thief. Confused, you’re left alone at the market place, the man’s horse being your only companion. A sigh rolls off your lips. 

“Guess I’ll have to do what he says if I ever want that wool back”, you exclaim exasperatedly. This is the last thing you’ve needed today. First, you’ve been drenched by the rain, then a weird musketeer has started following you and asking you eerily invasive question and now your precious goods have been stolen. In the meantime, you try your best to sell the remaining wool.

After half an hour, you still haven’t sold any wool at all. Though you were definitely drawing attention on you by shouting out some offers, no one has seemed to be interested yet. No one even cared enough to look towards your direction. 

“I guess I’ll just have to stay all day, then”, you think gloomily. From the corner of your eyes, you notice an all too familiar form approaching you, though this time with a bag in his hand. 

“Mademoiselle Y/N!”, Polnareff shouts excitedly, “I’ve retrieved your bag from the thief!” A sincere expression of gratitude appears on your face. Yes, the man is more than annoying to you with his clingy behaviour, but at least he was chasing the trickster for you! 

“Thank you so much, Monsieur Polnareff!”, you exclaim happily, relieved to have your wool back. Now there’s only the matter of selling it left… 

“Of course, nothing to thank for, Mademoiselle! I’d never want to see such a charming lady like you in need.” 

Purposefully, you ignore his statement, an awkward feeling bubbling up in you. Instead you’re thanking him again. All the while, the Frenchman keeps staring at you with a look of fondness, a huge and proud smile adorning his face. In his mind, he’s just proven to you how capable he is of taking care of you and your family. How could you refuse him now? He’s literally your knight in shining armour! Or your musketeer in a blue tunic. It doesn’t matter, he’s practically your hero! 

Polnareff’s grin only widens at the thought of you swooning over him. The silver-haired man doesn’t know why he feels like this towards you. Maybe it’s because you just looked so pitiful when he saw you on that road, soaking wet from the rain. Maybe it’s his pride that doesn’t let him relent. Maybe it’s the way your eyes sparked with determination and love when you talked about your family. Maybe it’s your radiant atmosphere, which draws him in like a moth. Maybe you’re secretly a witch who put a love spell on his poor self, making him a fool for you after having only met you. Maybe, maybe, maybe…  

Polnareff quickly stops his pondering. “It’s not of importance,” he muses, “as long as she’ll realise I’m the best choice for her.”

“I see you haven’t sold any of your goods yet”, the musketeer says, trying to sound casually. Though in his thoughts, he already has a plan schemed. 

“No, unfortunately not,” you reply, an exasperated sigh following swiftly, “but there’s still some time left until I have to return home. Surely, I’ll be able to sell some.” 

“You know, Mademoiselle Y/N, I’d rather not see you standing here all day, maybe even for it to be in vain,” Polnareff utters, concerning coating his voice, “let me help you, I’ll buy the wool.” Your eyes grow big at his proposition. Even though it’s more than a generous offer, especially after all he’s been through for you today, you can’t help but feeling alerted. Why would he go all these lengths for you? He can’t be that kind, there must be something he wants in return. 

“You’re far too generous, Monsieur Polnareff. I can’t accept such an offer”, you tell the musketeer, hoping he’ll actually drop his suggestion. But the Frenchman remains stubborn as a mule. 

“Ah ah Mademoiselle,” he tuts you condescendingly, “I’m a man of my word. How much would you like? Are two livres enough?”

Your eyes widen so much at his offer, you wouldn’t be surprised if your eyeballs fell out. Two livres? Is that man insane? The wool is hardly five sous worth! 

“I think you must have meant two sous, Monsieur Polnareff,” you answer him, still shocked. 

“Pas du tout, Mademoiselle. Two livres is what I said and what I meant. Or would you maybe want more?” 

Vehemently, you shake your head. Two livres… That would feed your family for at least three months! “No Y/N, you can’t take this offer!” Your thoughts interrupt you suddenly. Not only does your conscience forbid you from doing so, your parents would also wonder where all that money comes from. They might assume you’ve stolen it as no one would believe a stranger to be so kind to just give a random farmer way too much money. 

“Monsieur Polnareff,” you try again to change his mind, “I really don’t think you should-“ 

“Ah, there’s my pouch!”, the silver-haired man exclaims happily, ignoring your previous words. Eagerly, he takes two shiny coins out of it, pressing them in your palm. Admitting your defeat, you curtsy and express your deep gratitude again. Though a small part inside you does enjoy the fact of getting provided for.

After your exchange, Polnareff insisted on bringing you home again. You dislike the idea of him knowing exactly where you live, but that man’s stubbornness and pride is bigger than the Palace of Versailles. Which is why the two of you are walking back to your farm, the wool resting on Polnareff’s horse’s back. 

“What are you doing with all the wool, if I may ask?”, you say with a questioning look on your face, “Surely, a musketeer doesn’t need to fabricate his own clothes.” The Frenchman rubs sheepishly behind his neck and offers you a smile. 

“Ah Mademoiselle, you see, I might just donate it. I’ve just wanted to help you out, I don’t need it myself.” Even though you still cannot bring yourself to trust him, your heart warms at his statement. 

“That’s indeed very noble of you, Monsieur Polnareff”, you reply candidly. The musketeer sends you another bright grin, a subtle blush forming on his pale cheeks.

The sun has begun to set as the two of you arrive on the farm. With a polite curtsy, you’re ready to finally return home, excited to tell your family the good news regarding the money. But Polnareff stops your goodbye. His hand finds its way to your wrist, halting your movement. 

“Before we must depart, Mademoiselle Y/N,” he counters hastily, “I’d like to be assured that we’ll meet again soon. I find myself enthralled by your presence.” 

Your heart beats faster at his proposition. Suddenly, you realise the dangerous situation you’re in, the big hand capturing your smaller wrist. Could you really deny him without facing consequences? Thoughts like these rush through your head as the man in front of you keeps waiting for your reaction. Still, you’re going to try. If something should happen, you still have your knife with you and your father would surely rush out once he hears your screams. 

“Monsieur Polnareff,” you start hesitantly, “I’m deeply flattered by your words. You are truly an admirable and honourable man whose kind actions shall always carry my most sincere gratitude. Though I must admit, I don’t think it would be a wise idea to meet again.” The Frenchman makes a crestfallen face at your words. You feel almost bad for him. “Ah, I think I should explain myself further. Well, Monsieur Polnareff, we are of two different social classes, continuing mingling with me would put a bad reputation on you. I cannot offer you something of interest. Plus, I like staying with my family so far, this is my home.” 

“Y/N”, Polnareff whispers affectionately, his thumb rubbing softly on the inside of your wrist. You shoot him a surprised look, confused by him dropping the formal title. If anyone would have heard this, they’d turn it into a scandal. 

“I know my offer might appear strange to you, but I wish to marry out of love one day. I’m aware it’s fairly uncommon and even looked upon with scorn to marry below someone’s station, but the matters of the heart outshine the matters of the mind in my case. I have more than enough money, a comfortable estate and an honourable title. So you’re correct by saying you can’t offer me anything. Though you forgot one important thing, dear Y/N: you can offer me companionship, love, a meaningful bond between two souls.” Upon his last sentence, Polnareff tenderly grabs both of your hands in his, admiring how they seem to fit perfectly. Too astounded by his words, you let the man do as he pleases. Quickly, Polnareff catches on with his speech. “Please Y/N, let me see you again. Let me court you properly. I can give you and your family a beautiful life, a life you deserve.” The silver-haired male’s form moves now closer to yours, his blue eyes fixated on your lips. This action breaks you from the spell you’ve been caught in previously as you abruptly rip your hands off his grip and step back. 

“I’m sorry, Monsieur Polnareff,” you manage to say, your voice sounding breathless from the adrenaline rushing in your veins, “I don’t think I’m the right woman for you. I do not wish to disappoint you further, that’s why I’m being direct with you. I’m going home now, please do not seek out for me. Have a good evening, Monsieur Polnareff.” You give him one last glance, noting his furious facial expression, before you eventually walk rapidly the path up to your family’s farm. 

“I’ll be coming back, Mademoiselle Y/N!”, you hear the musketeer shouting behind you, “I’m not giving up that easily!” His sentences only make you pick up your pace as fear makes itself present in your body. Why couldn’t he just respect your choice? You’re sure there are enough suitable ladies in his rank pining for him, so why would he bother you? Finally, to your happiness, you arrive at the front door. Quickly, you enter your home, locking the door from the inside. Still, it feels as if a pair of blue eyes continues burning holes in your back…

The following month had been both positive and negative. Positive, because your family didn’t need to worry about food thanks to the two livres Polnareff gave you. Negative, because the latter had been true to his word and kept showing up at your place. Every time you told him you won’t change your mind, the musketeer only seemed to be more encouraged to prove you otherwise. 

Today isn’t any different. As you make your way to the market to buy some food, you hear the familiar hooves approaching you. Annoyed, you let out a sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Bonjour Y/N! What a pleasant day to see you again, mon amour!”, Polnareff exclaims happily while he dismounts from his horse to walk next to you. 

“Bonjour Polnareff”, you reply politely. In the meantime, you’ve dropped the titles when you two were alone, not seeing the point of them anymore. Plus, the Frenchman even decides to call you pet names, so why showing him respect? 

“Ah, ma puce, no need to be so cold today! After all, I bring some splendid news”, the Frenchman replies excitedly. You eye him suspiciously, brows knitted together. What on earth is he planning now?  

“And that would be?”, you answer matter-of-factly. “You’re finally leaving me alone?” 

“You see, before I came to meet you, I’ve finally talked with your parents.” At these words, you immediately stop your steps. A feeling of dread emerges in your stomach, making you feel sick. 

“Oh no,” you think desperately, “this can’t be good.” 

“Very lovely people, indeed. It hurts my feelings knowing you haven’t invited me to them, mon cœur”, Polnareff continues his talk, a hand put on his chest in mock concern. 

“And why should I have done such thing?”, you reply coolly, though internally you’re freaking out. You already know you won’t like the answer… 

“My dearest, how come you act so cruel? Don’t you think your future husband should see your parents? After all, we’re betrothed now!” 

“No”, you retort without thinking. Your palms grow sweaty, a deep fear manifesting in your body. The silver-haired man smirks at your reaction. 

“Non? I think your parents disagree with you, ma chérie. In fact, we’ve already picked out a date for the ceremony. Can you believe it? In two months, we’ll be finally one.�� Panic overflows your mind, your breathing becoming laboured. How could your parents decide on such a matter behind your bag? After everything you’ve done for your family? Polnareff notices your stress as he softly wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to his chest. The musketeer tries to comfort you by shushing you and gently brushing over your back, though his actions only fuel your terror. You squirm in his grasp, trying to escape him, escape this situation, but his grip on you only strengthens. 

“Let me go!”, you scream all while tears stream down your cheeks, “I don’t want to be with you! Why can’t you just accept that?” 

“My little Y/N,” Polnareff mumbles calmly, “if you hadn’t  been so stubborn, we could have discussed the wedding plans together. I know you think our union is not favourable, but if even your family agrees to it, it surely can’t be that wrong, hm? You’re so blinded by your little provincial life that you can’t see what’s best for you. And trust me, my dove, I’m the best choice.” The Frenchman grabs your chin, staring lovingly in your by now puffy eyes. “It’s fine if you need some time to realise that. As long as you remain by my side.” With these words, the silver-haired man puts his mouth on yours, his hand now wandering to your cheek. You wriggle harder in his grasp, though your attempts to escape remain futile. Tenderly, Polnareff caresses your face as his lips finally leave yours. 

“Je t’aime de tout mon cœur, mon ange*”, he whispers adoringly, pressing your face against his chest again. Your tears smudge the blue fabric of his tunic, your voice hoarse from screaming. And even though you wish this is but a nightmare, you start comprehending you’re truly trapped in Polnareff’s oh so loving arms for the rest of your life.

*former French currency. 2 livres are about 30 euros, which was a lot of money back then

*former French currency. 5 sous are about 3,70 euros, which was still quite some money back in the day

*”I love you with all my heart, my angel”

[marathoning-barbie]

Watching and ranking all (for now) 39 Barbie movies: an introduction

Oh God. How do I even start?

I was absolutely obsessed with the 3D-animated Barbie movies as a child. I religiously watched all of the ones up until Barbie and the Three Musketeers before I sadly dived right into my tween Not Like Other Girls™ phase and decided they were too immature and girly for me. Internalized misogyny is a bitch.

During lockdown, I eventually had the idea to marathon every single one of these movies. I started in early 2020, back when the movie franchise was still in a hiatus, then took a break and restarted the entire thing in late 2021, and now, 39 movies later, here we are.

I don’t really expect anyone to truly care about my opinions on any of these movies. I don’t even think anyone will ever see this, apart from the random seemingly-not-bot person who started following me before I even posted anything (shoutout to you, I guess). With some of the movies I kinda hope people won’t care, because the alternative is anger. But if anyone does see this, I hope my fevered rantings are mildly amusing to you.

I mostly did this to catch up with  all the movies that came “after my time”; not just because of curiosity. If you look at any discussion of these movies online, especially Youtube, there is a pretty clear pattern among people giving their opinion that whichever movie they saw last as a child was “obviously” the last good Barbie movie, and all the others since had been irredeemable trash. That can be as early as Swan Lake or as late as Rock ‘N Royals (and I definitely receive 10 points of psychic damage whenever that one is counted as old). It’s such an obvious pattern that I’m about 90% sure I could tell you which movie a person considers to be the last good one if you told me their age. That’s hyperbole, don’t actually test me.

I always thought this was an unfair assessment. I mean, I can’t deny nostalgia isn’t important to me either; I won’t even pretend my dumb little reviews or my ranking are in any way objective. But I still didn’t want to bash on the new movies just because they were new. I’m sure I’d have counted many of them among my favorites if they came out early enough for me to have watched them. Some of them are among my favorites now even without nostalgia. Not to spoil the rankings, but my avatar is a pretty obvious sign.

I have now watched every single one of these movies at least once, and I have a bit of a preliminary ranking, though I won’t publish that one yet. I will go through each movie in release order, give a super short description of the plot and then remark on everything that stood out to me — whether good or bad. I might even bring up the movie-tie-in doll if I feel like it.

After I’ve finished my reviews for at least two movies, I’ll create a ranking post, which I’ll edit whenever the next review is posted. I might rewatch a movie again before writing the review, but I won’t make that a rule, because some of these I really don’t want to see again. It should also be noted that I’m looking at these from the eyes of a young adult woman, and I’ll not only be downright mean to the movies I didn’t particularly like, I also swear way too much for my own good. Sorry for any actual kids reading this I guess.

I’m not sure if I’ll make it to the end, and if I notice that I’m not gonna continue this I’m just going to post the full final ranking and be done, but let’s hope it won’t come to that. Also, if a new movie is released while I’m working on this blog, I’ll watch and review it as well.

Now that all this is over, I guess we can go on to the reviews. I’ll post the first one in a few hours, and the rest every few days afterwards. Don’t expect me to have a proper schedule. If anyone actually reads this, feel free to ask whatever or just tell me how wrong my opinion on a movie is.

Note: I am aware of the existence of the 80s movies, but since they’re separated from the 3D-animated movies, I won’t count them for this marathon.

[everyonewasabird]

Brickclub 4.14.3 “Gavroche would have done better to accept Enjolras’s carbine”

God, what a terrifying chapter title.

I find it interesting how Enjolras tends to taunt Javert. He’ll get harsher once more people start to die--Gavroche in particular, I think--but his “You! Not long now” when he walks by the living Javert with the dead Mabeuf is a not-strictly-necessary burst of outward anger and intimidation that he doesn’t tend to show anyone but Javert.

Which is pretty understandable under the circumstances. People are starting to die horribly, and Javert is the person directly in front of him who’s been working to make more of them die. He can’t suspect Javert could have prevented Le Cabuc, since he has no idea Le Cabuc was police, but he certainly knows Javert wants every one of them dead and would make that happen if he could. It’s not a wild reaction on Enjolras’s part! But it’s definitely a departure from his usual purity of action, edging towards something a little Javertish in expression if not in scope--he’s toeing a line, taunting a prisoner, leaving a prisoner to suffer in an uncomfortable position all night without water, though he won’t refuse water when asked. I’m not saying he crosses the line, but it’s a side of him we haven’t seen before.

BAHOREL, aAHH. He’s killed so FAST, without any kind of ceremony or emphasis. And, I mean, he doesn’t need any, he’s so huge and so beloved that he needs no big sending off to explain it, and he’s so very very much the Romantic Ideal that he doesn’t need any character arc to perfect him. And maybe more to the point, Hugo is emphasizing that battle really is this fast. It’s an incredible technique for getting that across, and he uses it very, very well, especially given that we all know by now how slow he can write when he wants to.

But OH NO, BAHOREL.

And Courfeyrac falls immediately after, shouting for help, and Hugo has proven he’s willing to kill the Amis now without ceremony, and then Gavroche aims Javert’s musket at a soldier and discovers that it’s not loaded and the man laughs about how he’s about to kill a child.

And then, just as fast as those things happened, those men are dead because Marius has entered the barricade and finally used his two pistols, and Marius when he actually decides to do things is terrifyingly effective. I appreciate the teasing of those two shots; we waited a whole evening for him to do something morally iffy but maybe useful with them (summon the police/save Valjean), then we watched him walk around all day waiting to do something fucking awful with them (shoot Cosette and then himself).

But now, they were used to save Gavroche and Courfeyrac, which is a vastly better use for those bullets than we maybe could have hoped for.

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

Romanced!companions react to their precious fem!sole survivor getting slapped or strikes by an npc right in front of them? Can we categorize this; who would be the violent/threatening/just angry group? >:^0

omg, i’m pretty sure none of them would be remotely calm if that happened... but damn imagine the outcome of that poor npc. they lived a good life. this was a short request while i work on like 7 other ones, LOL.

thank you for requesting and please enjoy!

the next request i’m posting is gonna be a react that turned out a little longer than i expected so buckle up. 🤠

-

Danse:

violent/threatening

danse would for sure fall under the violent criteria of this situation. he already has one foot in the door once someone dares to go too close to sole, but hit her? that’s a totally different story for another day. that person better be praying to some god out there to give them mercy cause danse knows he won’t. the minute he hears that slap on soles face, it will trigger him to attack without a word. and to answer the question; does danse need a gun to do the job? absolutely not. those muscles are not just for show after all. no matter how many people hold him back, he will always fight his way through the crowd of people and beat the living fuck out of the person, even if they’re begging for him to stop. he won’t even realize the damage he’s done until after and won’t regret it either way, knowing that it was well deserved on their case. now if it was a situation where it was shoving or showing signs of starting a fight with his beloved, he’d step right in front of them and stare them down angrily with the biggest scowl ever. in some cases, that’s more than enough to scare most people off towards the other direction but in a few, he’s forced to threaten them. “i advise you step away unless you desire for this situation to escalate into something that involves solely you and i.” no one will ever be a threat to sole on his watch and he will make sure that nothing will stop him from protecting her.

Deacon:

threatening mixed with violence (depending the intensity of the situation)

deacons nice. he’s really laid back in most situations and is more than willing to let things go if he feels like it’s not worth the trouble. following that, deacons nice to a certain point and if you cross that point? consider yourself on his hitlist for the rest of your life. the intensity of the situation will determine how he’ll react towards it. if the person were to do as simple as shove sole, he’d keep an eye on them and say something within the lines of, “woah, woah, take it easy.” now if it was something like a slap or a punch, he wouldn’t even let it happen, not while he’s around. deacon would have fast enough reflexes to catch their wrist and he’d grip it enough to leave a mark, a displeased expression on his face. he’d even go as far as making jokes with an evil smile, such as, “oops my hand slipped,” or “oh you dropped this,” and proceed to deck the person as hard as he can with his free hand, not caring whether or not he knocks them unconscious. after that incident, he’d constantly terrorize the poor individual, often pulling pranks on them without any breaks. sometimes, he’d even go near them and speak in a happy tone while patting their back in a manner where it seemed a little too friendly.

Maccready:

threatening

mac is aware he’s not muscular nor is he made for fighting, which is why he sticks with guns during most situations. hes a lanky man and gets intimidated a little easier than most people, knowing that many of them could take him down with something as simple as a punch. it’s easier to say he’s more confident with a gun in his hand in these instances. despite his weaknesses, he would not hesitate to step up, knowing that hes unable to control his anger. he’d immediately point the gun at the persons temple and cock it just for intimidation purposes, but knows that he’s more than willing to pull the trigger if he needs to. it benefits him and the commonwealth more than damages it, seeing that this world needs one less asshole living it in, so who is he to care if this person dies or not? he’d slowly press it harder against the persons head, angrily speaking, “back away now.” if the person does so, he’ll gladly let them walk away without an injury and instead tend to sole. he wouldn’t let them go without some snarky comment like, “yeah keep walking and please let the door hit you on the way out.” if they refuse to move away from sole though, he’d gladly take the butt of his gun and smack it against their temple within seconds, completely ignoring the persons body knocked out on the floor. mac would get sole up and out of there as soon as he can, complaining under his breath about how much of that guy was an asshole and how he shouldve shot him.

Hancock:

violent group

consider one thing; that this person who fucked over his lover is beyond dead in his eyes. no one touches his sunshine, and if they dared to? theyll be wishing they hadn’t. hancock can quickly become someone’s friend, but the same can be said if it were an enemy. if he’s willing to stab someone for getting even a little too chummy and touchy with sole, imagine what he’d do if they dared to inflict pain on them. depending on where they are, like a bar for instance, he’d grab a glass bottle and crack it on the guys head, pushing him down on the floor without another word. using his shotgun, he’d make sure he’d put a few bullets through his body before he decides he’s completely satisfied with the new makeover he’s given them. now if he was in a more violent mood and was definitely not having it, he’d want to have their blood on his hands and wouldn’t care if it stained his clothes or not. he wants to send the message to everyone watching that if anyone dares to fucking cross his line, they’re gonna learn it the hard way and he will make it very known how the outcome of the situation will be. for example, he has a knife and what better way to use it than to stab the fuck out of someone for pissing him off? in some cases (depending on the severity of the situation), he’ll shank them in a place where he knows it’ll hurt the most and leave them there to suffer so they’ll get the idea that if they fuck with the people he treasures, they have another thing coming.

Nick Valentine:

mix of threatening and just angry.

honestly, nick is very civil about most cases and he won’t get violent unless absolutely necessary. he will definitely be beyond angry and give the person so much fucking shit for their actions. nick almost never yells but in this case, he’d yell so loud, it would fill up the silence of the room. nick also uses a lot of profanities when doing so, unable to maintain his professional attitude and his usual cool. “now what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” he’d even go as far as shoving them back, keeping a distance between sole and the person who deemed themselves as a threat to her presence. he’d try to minimize the possibility of violence arising, knowing that both him and sole are not as replaceable as they seem. he’d sneer at the person who striked sole, talking in the most irritated tone possible, “if i wasn’t here controlling her anger, you would’ve been dead on the pavement just a few minutes back, pal. consider yourself lucky that you were spared.” regardless if the person continued talking or not, nick would casually take soles hand and pull her away from the scene as he let out a remark loud enough for them to hear; “we don’t have time for the likes of you anyway, so take your trouble elsewhere.” nick has like zero shame when it comes to back talking or insulting someone he’s not fond of, so you best believe he won’t shut up until you both are out of sight.

Preston:

honestly, just angry.

preston will avoid violence at all costs, considering he doesn’t favor the idea and as much as he hates seeing sole get hurt, he doesn’t want to risk starting another issue. sole has a reputation amongst the commonwealth and the last thing he wants is to taint it or fuck it up, so he lets sole decide whether or not violence should be pursued. also considering that she has more than enough on her plate, he doesn’t want to add on to the list of problems she already has. so unless this guy is literally on the verge of gravely injuring his other half, he won’t do much besides step in front of sole to protect her from any further hits. he’d rather take the hits than to let someone as important as her take them firsthand. he wouldn’t forgive himself if such a thing happened. even if sole did most of the work in the end, he’d still send them the dirtiest look he’s ever given anyone and his hand would already be on the trigger of his laser musket, ready to fire at the guy anytime just in case. before officially leaving the person to do their own thing and bidding them goodbye, he’d get a little up close and personal, talking in the most threatening tone possible (even if he’s not the greatest at it); “once you mess with the general, you mess with the minutemen. i’d suggest you choose your battles a little better next time around.”

Sturges:

just angry

we all know by now sturges is a huge pacifist and will refuse to resort to violence unless he has no absolute choice but to do so. sturges is a very kind man and just like deacon, he’s willing to let most cases go but he respects sole too much to let violent situations like this slide. even if he’s very afraid to get into a violent situation head on, he’ll try to keep it as calm as possible, not wanting to escalate the situation more. being the considerate lover he is, he will ask sole to stay back and keep away from the person as much as possible as he tries to handle the situation himself. even if sturges doesn’t show it, he does get very angry in these instances and will not allow it to happen regardless of the reason. he’ll probably talk to the person with a firm tone and an irate expression but do nothing further than that unless the individual wants blood spilled, which in this case, sole is brought back into the situation. knowing sturges, he’d probably tell the person something like, “hey buddy, i really don’t appreciate what ya just did to my girl. ya need to quit it cause it ain’t right.” or, “if we got a problem, you can always just come to me instead of strikin’ that beautiful lady of mine. i’m willin’ to fix it with ya and if not, then i’m willin’ to take the hit.. though i’m sure my girl wouldn’ appreciate such a motive.” he knew she really wouldn’t. sole would shoot them down before he could let out a soft, “told ya so.”

Gage:

the ceo of violent

even if the raider life consists of injuries, blood, dirty work, and violence, he will never allow sole to get hurt under his watch. even if he tells her to toughen up and get used to it, he truly wants to protect her from the world and anything that could run as a potential hazard. that being said, he doesn’t care who the fuck strikes sole- it could be a man, woman, the highest and most royal person in the planet and it’d still have the same result in the end. gage wouldn’t even give them a chance to explain themselves and would simply let out a small, “oh fuck no, you ain’t.” and shoot them down himself before sole could give him an order. he would take the situation into his own hands with or without soles persmission, knowing that they crossed gages line of comfort. if he’s not satisfied with that or feels as if that’s too much of an easy way out, he’ll shoot their leg and come closer to them to step on their chest to block any chance of escaping. “wanna act tough, huh? show me how tough ya are, why dontcha? be my guest and apologize to the overboss. i’ll let her decide if it’s good enough to let ya go.” if sole were to deny every apology, he’d continue to shoot them limb by limb until he decides to put them down completely. now if sole decides their apology is more than enough, he’ll willfully let them go but let her decide their fate on whether they should be put down or not. in the end, if he had his way with that bastard, they wouldn’t be seeing the light for a long while.

[hookedonapirate]

Book Update

If you've noticed I've been updating my cs fics a lot lately, it's because I had to take a break from my original fic. And I've kind of been discouraged lately because when I worked on my first book, Follow My Lead, I got stuck for a whole year where I was unable to write one word for it. And I was afraid the same thing would happen for this one I'm work on. Last time, I wasn't able to push forward with the story until I scrapped the outline. So I didn't use an outline this time.

Then I got to thinking yesturday, maybe that's why I was stuck. Because each story will be different and will not always require the same process, for me at least. Some people can't write with outlines and some can't write without them. When I'm writing Cs, I normally don't need an outline because it comes so much easier to me because I'm already connected with the characters so the stories pretty much write themselves. But that's what I struggle with when writing original fics. So, for those of you who write or plan to write fics, either original or fanfic or anything with characters, it's very important to CONNECT with your characters first. It is essential and will save you a lot of time and energy and headaches, and will be much less stressful and mentally draining.

Anywho, what I'm trying to say is I started outlining for this and was able to get through the obstacles I had before. So to celebrate having a successful writing day for this book, I'd like to share a sneak peek.

In this sneak peek, I mention the rule of three and it's inspired by a conversation I had with people at work. Before someone pointed this out, I never realized how much we actually utilize the rule of three. Then I did some research and it turned out to be perfect for the chapter I'm writing.

Teaser

“I have to say, it’s refreshing to get to talk about the exhibits with someone.”

She looks at me with with an arched brow. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Well, one, because I usually come here alone, and two, because when I came here with my ex, she had her face buried in her phone the entire time. So it was pretty much as if I went alone. Mind you, she was the one who suggested coming here. The only reason I never suggested it was because I thought she'd be bored.”

Her brows furrow, as though she’s baffled by this. “Why come to The Met just to be on your phone the entire time? That’s like going to Disney Land and waiting in the car. Or going to Universal Studios and not visiting the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.”

My eyes widen in excitement. “You’re a Harry Potter fan?”

She nods. “Are you kidding? My sister and I are diehards.”

"The books or movies?"

"Both." 

I chuckle and wag a finger at her. “I knew I liked you.”

She laughs. “I'm no Seer, but I think a Harry Potter marathon might be in our future.”

“And The Stand?” I add.

“And The Big Bang.”

“Okay, fine,” I chuckle. “But aren’t there like twelve seasons?”

She nods matter of factly. “279 episodes to be exact.”

I scratch my head in uncertainty, not knowing if I can sit through that many episodes of a show I don’t really care for.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she laughs. “It’s a lot.”

“No, I’ll give it a try. Who knows, I might actually like the damn show.”

“You will, I promise.”

“Well, how about this - I’ll watch the first three episodes, and if I still don’t like it, I don't have to continue,” I suggest, certain I can sit through three episodes of pretty much anything. 

“Okay, but why three? Won't you know whether you like it or not after the first episode?"

"Nope."

She narrows her eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

I shrug. “The rule of three.” 

She cocks a brow. “Rule of three?”

“Yeah, we subconsciously apply it to most things in life, including the way we make decisions." When she looks at me like I just grew two heads, I expand. "The average person typically gives something or someone at most three chances before they've made up their mind about whether or not they'll stick with it. If we’re not hooked by the third joke of a standup show or the third chapter of a book or the third date with the same person, we're usually emotionally done with it at that point. As they say in baseball, three strikes you’re out."

She nods. "And third time’s a charm?"

I point a finger at her. "Exactly. If something isn’t successful after the first couple times, chances are it will be the third try. So if it's not successful after three, it’s not meant to be.”

She purses her lips in thought. “Huh, I never thought of the number three as an unspoken rule before.”

“Yeah, it works for a lot of things in life. Including survival. You can survive three minutes without breathable air or in icy water, you can survive three hours in a harsh environment, you can survive three days without drinkable water and you can survive three weeks without food. In the Marines, we lived by the rule of three when it came to survival tactics and completing tasks. Worrying about more than three things can be confusing or overwhelming. And regarding organizational structure, officers usually have fire teams of three or squads of three teams and so forth. You see trios in a lot of stories and movies, too - The Three Musketeers, Three little pigs, The Three Stooges. The Declaration of Independence has three main purposes and uses the phrase, Life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. There are a lot of other famous quotes that use clusters of three. Love, honor and obey. I came, I saw, I conquered. Stop, drop and roll. There are three meals a day, and three-course meals.” I pause when I realize I’m rambling. “I could go on, but I don’t want to bore you...if I haven’t already.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “No, not at all. It's interesting because you’re right; we do live by the rule of three.” She bites her bottom lip, pondering that thought for a moment. “So, do we usually apply that rule to sex, too? Like if the first three dates are successful, is that when a person makes up their mind to sleep with the other person?”

My cheeks heat and I chuckle, trying to ignore the nerves in my stomach. I definitely wasn't expecting that question. Certainly not from her. She just seems quiet, a little shy and kind of reserved. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised. This is the same woman who invited me into the ladies' room at the diner for a hot, steamy makeout session.

Fuck.

I have to shake the thoughts out of my mind, otherwise I'll be hard as a fucking rock until I drop her off. "Well, I can't speak for women, but I think men typically decide after the first date. Sometimes long before a first date is even established. Scratch that. Definitely before that."

A shy smile tugs at her lips as she looks away, her cheeks painted with an adorable shade of rosy red. “Sorry, it's just been a while since I've dated. My last boyfriend was my highschool sweetheart."

"Really?"

"Yeah, we started dating when we were both seventeen and were together for five years. I haven't dated anyone since we broke up."

"Wow. That is a long time. As far as your question goes, I don't know if the rule of three applies in this case, regardless of gender." I scratch my head nervously, trying to answer her without saying something stupid, but it's extremely hard when her question painted a very vivid picture in my mind. 

Extremely hard, indeed. 

"I mean, uh...it doesn't have to? That's up to you." I clear my throat, trying to get my thoughts straight. "The point I was making before was, if I don’t like The Big Bang Theory by the third episode, chances are I won’t like the rest of the series."

"Yeah, I get it now," she laughs.

@onceuponaprincessworld @teamhook​ @artistic-writer​@ilovemesomekillianjones @hollyethecurious​ @gingerchangeling​@ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4​ @searchingwardrobes​ @snowbellewells​ @let-it-raines​ @wellhellotragic​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @lfh1226-linda​ @sophiaaz​ @becausetheyrehappythisway​ @thislassishooked​ @hookedmom​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @kateroselin​ @chamomileandmint @kday426​ @sals86​ @lawgeeks​ @yasbio2015​ @xsajx​ @delightfully-difficult-pirate​ @wanderingjpg​ @squidvisious​ @tenaciouskittynight​ @biefaless​ @animatedshorts​ @lassluna​ @ejunkiet​ @melsbels​ @meat-pie-with-sauce​ @roseyflush​ @ivalane​ @tiganasummertree​ @nowforruin​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @nikkiemms @oncechicagolove​ @theonewiththeory​ @lostinwonderland314​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @arshini01 @companion-mala​​ @carpedzem​​ @youareafeverdream​​ @maguilar1028​​ @mayquita​​ @courtorderedcake​​ @shady-swan-jones​​ @timeless-love-story​​ @laschatzi​​ @officerrogers​​ @spartanguard​​ @andiirivera​​ @ouatpost​​ @jarienn972​​ @winterbythesea​​ @winterbaby89​​ @distant-rose​​ @xhookswenchx

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Alright, chapter 8! And man is there a lot to talk about here. I don’t really have any pre-content things to say, so we’ll just hop right into it today!

[No. 8 - Rage, You Damned Nerd]

I swear, this first page has a LOT to talk about on it, so I’ll go from panel to panel and do some rambling thoughts on each segment. 

First off, UA doesn’t actually handle the costumes the kids get! It’s support companies affiliated with the school that does - which makes sense, since the school has to focus on teaching their support students before letting them get their hands on actual costumes that these kids might be fighting in.

I mean, they seem to be allowed to practice on like, minor support stuff (read: Mei making Izuku his new gloves post-Nighteye or somewhere around there) but not full costuming, which is… actually a bit reassuring? But also explains some of the lag time in getting costume repairs / upgrades since they’re probably busy companies. It also explains why there probably aren’t major alterations to any costumes besides between the summer and winter variants, since it would be time-consuming to remake these costumes so regularly.

(It still doesn’t excuse some of the costumes the kids got, but that’s more on the whole ‘eye candy’ thing for readers than actual practicality, so whatever.)

(Also, I can’t get over the fact that Snipe has a support company. Fucking Snipe. Guess we know another canon or likely-canon Support teacher.)

Next we get a preview of what the kids sent in for specifications for their costumes:

We get a bit of insight into a few of the characters - as background stuff, we get Shouji, Mineta, Aoyama, and Sato. Mineta got pretty dunked on for char design and costuming, and Aoyama’s costume almost looks like a magical girl outfit like this, which honest to god would have been fantastic to see him in. More interesting (at least to me) are the other three: Ochako, Tenya, and Katsuki.

Ochako first, because that pressure point thing is interesting, and I dunno how often those actually come up in fics besides a passing mention, like. What if her support bracelets / neck piece broke during training / a mission / whatever? Would she suddenly have to fight through the nausea? By the point of current canon (War Arc) she’s probably trained enough that she doesn’t need them as much, but man, it could be an interesting little thing to explore, like, post-Kamino.

Tenya is a bit surprising, since we know he comes from a well-off hero family. Logically, this was before the whole Hosu / Ingenium plotline was really developed, so Tenya didn’t have that to fall back on, or it could be argued that the support company that Ingenium is associated with also works with UA. Alternatively, it could be that either Tenya didn’t want to rely on his family (which seems silly when they’d know how to work with his quirk best) or UA is very firm on ALL costume stuff going through them…

But then again, Katsuki. Oh god, Katsuki. What fucking support company looked at this kid and went ‘yeah we should give him a way to store more explosives AND give him bombs’ and just. Did so. Why did UA not vet that. Maybe the support company didn’t realize how strong his explosions were without the gear, but UA, man, I just. I suppose they had no way of knowing how reckless he’d be with them, but honestly, after the battle trials, they should have been fucking yoinked from him so damned fast. 

Anyways, onto other parts of Katsuki’s costume, we see he’s a fucking dork. Possibly what lowered their guard. ‘Something scary’ and ‘Dynamighte all over’. What the hell, kid. At least your designer stuck close to your design… including the huge-ass clunky gauntlets. Man, the Musketeer Trio movie poster ones are so much better looking and so, so streamlined. Works of art, they are.

Moving on, we get a bit of a flashback to ~three weeks ago, which by the calendar would be around March 20th? So a few weeks after the Entrance Exam. And Izuku is only NOW getting around to updating the quirk registry? Izuku baby seriously, how the FUCK did none of the UA staff notice the ‘quirkless’ on your application form at any point before this?

But yeah, he’s worried about his registry, so he calls Toshinori, who explains the update process. It gives the example of someone who might alter their stuff with updated information, with one or two allowed - though major ones aren’t accepted. Toshinori then says it’ll probably be okay since he started with nothing, then tries to correct himself to ‘definitely’, only to get cut off because Izuku accidentally hangs up in a panic when Inko calls out that she’s home. Haha poor Toshinori, and poor Izuku, the two anxious dumbasses. 

Anyways, moving on from that is Inko showing off the jumpsuit she made, with Izuku surprised. She admits it’s not the coolest, but she based it off of the design in his notebook (the one we saw back in chapter 1). She tells him she regrets giving up on him back then, and how he never quit regardless of her faith. She apologizes and says from there on she’ll be cheering him on with all she’s got. 

Izuku’s narration notes that it’s a symbol of his mom’s love, and that he couldn’t wear anything else, even if it’s not ‘efficient’ or ‘cutting edge’. (Or even at all decent looking.) And it’s also hinted through the present thoughts on it that it’s meant to be an homage to All Might (the smile and the hair pieces) which is just such a dorky thing.

We get to the wide-spread of hero costumes, which- wait a second.

That’s Momo’s initial hero costume design???? Why did Hori not stay with that??? It’s a LOT better than the stuff we’ve seen her in later! Like, sure, it’d still be improved with the main opening being her stomach and not her chest, but this still looks like actual human clothing and not a sexy Halloween costume variant of her hero uniform. Fucking hell, now I’m even more mad.

Tsuyu’s costume meets the approval of the discord server as basically ‘no changes needed’ asides from maybe the goggles being a bit bulky.

Tenya’s costume, I’m sorry, I know it’s an homage to your brother / family, but were the additional pipes really needed? Also, the helmet isn’t a bad idea since he goes fast, and bugs in the mouth/teeth have to suck, but it just looks so damned Gundam-y I can’t help but laugh a little.

Shouto… nah, too easy a target.

Aoyama is Aoyama. I’m actually a bit disappointed now that it’s not a magical girl costume, but alas, I suppose even Hori couldn’t be that brave.

Kaminari… I forgot he had that headset thingy. 

Don’t really have much else to say about anyone else, so let’s move on.

Izuku bugs out a bit about Ochako’s costume/appearance, while she compliments his more practical looks and laments not being specific, saying it’s a bit too puffy and curvy for her. Which means it’s more the accessories which seem to be her issue with it over the main costume itself? Huh.

Anyways, after All Might confirms they’re all there, he notices Izuku’s headpieces, which are a match to his costume, and has to turn to muffle a laugh for how obvious a reference it is. Tenya steps up, asking whether they’ll be doing cityscape maneuvers again since it’s the same field used in the entrance exam. Izuku thinks to himself how cool Tenya’s costume is, while All Might explains that they’re moving onto step two - indoor anti-personnel battle training!

He explains what while villain battles are most commonly seen outdoors, statistically the worst crimes and villains are more likely to be found indoors. Confinement, house arrest, black market deals… the clever villains luck indoors to avoid heroes. Which is why the class will be split into teams of two and pit against each other, heroes versus villains style!

Ah, Tsuyu. Calling him right the heck out, as expected. All Might then notes that in this scenario, the fight won’t be against disposable robots. 

This entire page is just fucking hilarious. The class and all their questions while All Might is shaking with nerves. The fucking cheat sheet he uses to try to get back on track. Him being questioned on the lot drawing, and shaking while Izuku accidentally ends up covering for him. I just. All Might was not prepared for this mess and it shows. He was doing so much better when it was the one on one stuff with Izuku.

But yeah, Izuku notes the scenario is like from a western comic plot, and he’s also the one who ‘realizes’ the lots are like when heroes from different agencies have to team up for emergencies without prior warning. 

Lots are drawn, and we have our teams:

Izuku’s so stressed out because he still can’t really talk to her, while she’s excited to be teamed up and calls it ‘fate’ that it happened. All Might draws the first two teams to participate, and… team Izuku and Ochako (as the heroes) versus team Katsuki and Tenya (as the villains). Both Izuku and Katsuki are alert from this development…

Which makes this a good point to cut off, since it’s halfway through and we got a lot of information to chew on already. Second part should be out this weekend (hopefully). 

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

So ok, i was hoping if you could do a compainions react to a trans male sole losing a fight with some transphobic (+ homophobic for male companions) raiders?

(I hope you enjoyed!!)

Let me just start by saying this, the companions will absolutely do their best to fuck their shit up regardless- you’re their friend, in some of their cases, the only friend they truly trust.

—-

Things were going so smoothly.

As per usual, a typical walk down the eastern coast of Boston resulted in stumbling upon some less than savory characters- but that hadn’t been an issue before. Once the two of you had finally stumbled upon mentioned characters, you gave each other a knowing look before engaging in combat.

One thing led to another and somehow they got separated from you, the realization of such causing their breath to hitch- worried eyes scanning all around in hopes of finding you. However they not had to look for very long-

“Yeah that’s it! Fucking tranny, cowering like the little bitch you are.” Somehow, someway..this person got the jump on you. What was to be an easy shot to their head quickly went awry whenever they struck your hand with their tire iron, proceeding to heat you back until your leg swayed from beneath you- your body succumbing to the sheer pain of a few broken bones.

That’s probably why your heart beat several pumps a minute, having had to force yourself backed into a crate wall in attempt to escape.

“Heh, shame. You’re actually kind of cute, for a dude with a pussy, at least.” The sickeningly spat, their fingers fidgeting as they readjusted the grip on their weapon- raising it, about to swing...until-

<Special!>

Dogmeat:

As though it wasn’t bad enough that the person his precious sole was fighting with was being aggressive, they were also saying these weird things too? Oh hell no. As soon aa the German Shepherd got a good shot, he’d leap above your trembling form and a silently wreck shop on their ass. Teeth to tits.

~~~~

Cait:

“Hey you fucking cunt, hope you like swallowing teeth!”

She wouldn’t even hesitate to use her own fists. It would probably hurt her too, but she didn’t care. True to her words, she’d make them suffer- busting their nose and knocking their teeth out before finally settling for gouging their eyes.

Curie:

“You say very mean things, at least you won’t be able to anymore...”

Being so dainty and lithe definitely had its perks. While that asshat was spewing their venomous monologue, she was able to sneak up behind them- plunging a syringe full of poison into their jugular.

How could they be so mean to you?

Danse:

“That’s quite enough.”

Danse usually wouldn’t ever resort to using such..brutal measures. However between feeling the sting of their words and seeing how they were able to beat you so badly....Danse grabbed ahold of their head and simply lifted up. The strength of his power armour suit allowing him to successfully “pop” it off.

Deacon:

“Sucks for them.”

Deacon would use their talking as an opportunity. Sneaking up behind them, he’d plunge his knife right into their back- twisting it for good measure as they screamed in agony. It was a bit underhanded, but shit, it worked.

As soon as he was able to get you to medical help, he’d be there to try to make you feel better about the ridiculous things that person said.

Gage:

“Dumbass, didn’t even know who he was talking too. Oh well, come on boss..let’s go get ourselves cleaned up.”

He. Would. Not. Hesitate. To. Blow. Their. Fucking. Head. Off.

Hancock:

“You, oh you’re coming with me..”

Having chems on hand usually meant Hancock was always ready for a good time..however right now it meant he was stocked up to perform a quick little “kidnapping”. Once he gage you a stimpack and was sure you’d be alright, he’d option for the two of you to go to Goodneighbor- dragging the insufferable, unconscious dickhead with you the entire way.

Once there, it was all a matter of waiting. Who knows? Maybe they’ll be missing a tongue, or a toe when they wake up. Either way, it’ll be a fun experience.

Macready:

“What a buttface..”

They didn’t know it, but it was a horrible decision to turn your back on a sniper. Mere seconds went by before Mac’s bullet flew through their skull, painting you in the viscera of their demise. A little bit afterwards, Mac would come strolling along with his trusty rifle at side. Then he’d kneel down in front of you, a small smile on his face when you thanked him.

Maxson:

“You’re in no position to say such disrespectful things..Mercy isn’t something I usually consider, but for you- it’s entirely out of the question.”

Arthur almost never got involved with the commonwealth missions, but this time he was glad he had.

As they were saying their indecent words, he grabbed the hand they intended to wing with- pulling it back and twisting it around their back, pulling one good time causing them to yell out in pain. Just when they were going to swing toward him, they were promptly met with the business end of his combat knife- slicing into their forehead from the force of which they turned.

Nick:

“Some people just have no redemption..Do they?”

The old detective would merely cast his gaze at their now twitching corpse, having shoot them point blank in the back of their head. He’d just scoff, kicking their body aside as he tentatively looked you over- deciding the next best course of action was to jab a stimpack in you.

Old Longfellow:

“Dontcha dare listen to them kiddo, son of a bitch probably didn’t have a piece of brain left anyway- now let’s go get you patched up.”

It took only five point two seconds for him to choke the unsuspecting raider, having pulled back their tire iron and thrusted it against their throat, holding it their until they no longer breathed. Once done with his rather violent display, he simply shrugged and offered you his hand.

Piper:

“Wow, what a dick..”

She’d have no words! None. She’s seen some terrible people, but boy, the world just never ceases to supply a worse bunch, does it? Regardless of her eternal thoughts, she’d just shake her head before shooting them in their ass, then their face when they turned around.

Preston:

“Hmph, as if being a raider wasn’t already a shitty enough life decision..”

Their words would enrage him to no return. This ended up resulting in him bashing the butt of his laser musket against their head until they no longer moved. They had no right to cast down such terrible judgement. No one does.

Skinny Malone:

“Don’t worry now, bastard got what was coming to ‘im.”

Yours crazy if don’t think wherever Skinny goes, his gang is close behind. At the very first sign of trouble, they came out of their shadowing spots and unleashed hell in the form of several rounds of ammunition. When all was said in done, the asshole that spoke such means words to you closely resembled Swiss cheese. After the whole ordeal, Skinny would take you back to his headquarters and let you drink to your hearts content- reassuring you that you shouldn’t let people like that make you feel any less of your self.

Sturges:

“Listen, I know you raider kind aren’t the smartest but..that’s just stupid. Even for your standards I presume.”

Truthfully..he was scared as hell going up against the raiders but! He owed it to you. So he rolled up his sleeves and stormed right in up to the bastard looking over you, hitting them upside the head with an old wooden board he thankfully found.

X6-88:

“Let’s go..I believe we’re both entitled to drink after this.”

He made quick, precise work of the perpetrator. Gone and done before your eyes could even process it. Had he not been right in front of you, offering you his hand, likely wouldn’t have even thought he had killed them at all- instead perhaps thinking it was some invisible force instead.

[arrivisting]

wip amnesty: versailles

Did anyone else watch Versailles?

[crickets, probably]

I loved the first season of that show. The WIGS. The DRAMA. The GILT. It helped a lot that @gofuckinggentle and I watched the first season together in Paris, after a day-trip to Versailles, and in the after-throes of Les Mis/George Blagden passion. It was tremendous fun: the right show at the right place, at the right time, with the right person (<3). Season two was a tragic waste of potential and made me furious, and season three was unwatchable. But I adored season one - it was just the right mix of silliness, EMOTION, history, and fake history. I went off the deep end reading Bourbon history and began a lot of stories set after season one (and then season two happened and murdered them). Here is one:

We're leaving, Philippe said to the Chevalier, and we’re never coming back. He meant it at the time.

There are different types of wounds. Philippe’s no doctor, but he saw enough of them on the field to know; some you live through, and some you don’t. Some heal clean, without needing much fussing. Others need hot iron or tar to stop the bleeding. Still others fester, musket-holes where fragments of grapeshot, mud, and cloth linger; unexpected scratches that suddenly belch pus when you press on the hot and heated skin.

You die fast, or you die slow, or you get better.

At Saint-Cloud, Philippe gives orders to open up only his rooms, and then, after a moment’s thought, the kitchens.

“Are we not planning to entertain?” the Chevalier asks. “Silly me, I packed silk, not sackcloth and ashes.” When Philippe stares at him, appalled, he shrugs. “We’re expecting the king, aren’t we? Sooner or later.”

“I’m in mourning. Tell him I don’t want to see him.”

“That won’t work.”

“I won’t see him.”

“You’ll have to,” the Chevalier says. “I mean, for the funeral–”

“I won’t see him,” Philippe shouts. He shuts his eyes for a moment. When he speaks again, he’s in control of himself. “I only want to see you.”

The Chevalier blinks, then smolders at him. The effect is more affected than genuine, but that’s what Philippe wants from him right now. “Ah. Shall we christen the place, then, my love?”

Around them servants – his servants, not Louis’ - have been opening the shutters, removing the holland covers from the furniture, bringing in armfuls of new linen. They’re all not looking at him so pointedly it feels like he’s being stuck with pins. Someone he pays to attend to the niceties has begun hanging black cloth over the mirrors. Philippe should care about the example he’s setting.

“Take off your coat,” he says, and the room clears. Eventually.

-

Louis doesn’t come to Saint-Cloud. Which is a pity, really. Philippe would have liked to bar him from his rooms with pikesmen. They could see how he likes it.

“You wouldn’t,” the Chevalier says, languidly amused. The way he says it sounds like he’s saying you should.

“I wouldn’t,” Philippe agrees, giving it just the same intonation.

“You should order your mourning clothes,” the Chevalier adds, like he thinks Philippe won’t take offense if he slips it into the conversation in the same careless tone.

“We’re not discussing that.”

 “But you like new clothing–”

Philippe says nothing, but he takes the Chevalier’s chin in his fingers and pulls his face close like he might kiss him just to shut him up. Then he tightens his hold until the Chevalier’s smirk turns into a grimace. “We’re not discussing that.”

“We’re not discussing that,” the Chevalier repeats, and when Philippe lets his grip relax he shakes his head, tossing his long blond curls over his shoulder. After a moment, for effect, he gets to his feet, brushing invisible dust off his cuffs in the way that means he’s piqued and he wants Philippe to know it.

Well, the dust could be real. Saint-Cloud has been shut up for months while the court festered at Versailles in the marshes. Philippe will allow him the benefit of the doubt this time.

“All the same,” the Chevalier says softly. When he speaks that low, Philippe is allowed to pretend not to hear him, and the Chevalier to pretend not to have spoken. “You will need to do something, my darling.”

-

Louis doesn’t come to Saint-Cloud, because he’s too awful to give Philippe the satisfaction of having his entrance barred, or to suffer the displeasure of crooking his little finger and not having Philippe obey. Instead, because Louis is awful, he sends Bontemps himself, and two royal heralds in most stiff and ancient costumes, little portraits of Louis set around their necks.

“Oh,” the Chevalier says, sucking in his breath with intent. “How charming.”

Philippe batts his nose fondly, like he’s chastening a lapdog. “Shall I get you one for your birthday?”

“A necklace, or...?”

“I prefer the one on the left, don’t you? I know how you feel about redheads.”

“Your highness,” Bontemps says, sounding and looking pained and disappointed. Luckily, Philippe doesn’t share Louis’s transparent yearning for a father-figure, so it has no effect on him. If he’s wished that Louis had some similar need for a brother – well, that’s the past, and he left that behind at Versailles. “His majesty wishes you to know that the funeral of Madame will be held this Sunday. You are expected.”

“I am busy,” Philippe says, and gestures at his surroundings like they speak for his overwhelming state of preoccupation.

Bontemps glances at the lake – calm as a mill-pond, a clear mirror for a clear sky – and at the chateau – shut up like an abandoned property, or a house under siege, a house in mourning – and at the Chevalier, who wiggles two fingers at him.

He says, “You must attend, your highness.”

“I must do nothing, unless my brother commands me. Does he command me?”

He wouldn’t dare.

“He does,” Bontemps says.

-

The journey to Paris is miserable. Philippe only manages to vent a little of his spleen by loudly ordering Cosnac to expect his return to Saint-Cloud within the next week. Bontemps, block of wood that he is, doesn’t change expression, but he manages to radiate the tranquil assumption that as soon as Philippe is back in Louis’s orbit, his plans will change.

If Philippe has to spend the next two hours shut up in a landau with his brother’s valet, he’s going to stab someone. “And it might be you,” he tells the Chevalier, who has started exuding an irritating smugness that his sotto voce avocations about the need for action have been proved correct. If he has to spend that two hours with the pair of them, bouncing over the ruts in the dry, cracking road with the Chevalier fondling his knee and Bontemps staring straight ahead, he’ll definitely arrive in Paris in more of a murdering mood than a burying one. “I’m riding.”

“Don’t you think you’re arriving under enough of a disadvantage without arriving in dishabille?”

Philippe ignores him.

-

His thighs are burning by the time they reach the Palais Royal. He’s dusty, the pervasive white dust of the road thick on his boots, but it’s not like he’s going to be receiving in these clothes, in any case. The guards at the Palais are wearing black. He’s going to need to outfit his own men properly. He should have done it at Saint-Cloud.

He hadn’t wanted to bring death into the house where he and Henriette had been young. That’s no excuse for ignoring etiquette.

“My rooms,” he says curtly over his shoulder, tossing the reins of his horse to a waiting groom in the second courtyard. Louis isn’t there to greet him.

He should have draped the damn horse in black; he should have ridden in with a black cloak that covered its hindquarters, a black feather in his hat as long as his arm, and a face nearly as long. That’s what everyone expects from him. Drama.

“Of course, your highness,” the waiting equerry says. Philippe doesn’t know him. Versailles has sucked up all the best personnel from the residences, the way it’s sucked up all the money from Louis’s coffers, all the freedom from France. “My condolences, Monsieur.”

It’s better that Philippe doesn’t know him; doesn’t know any of the bowing black-clad guards and servants and maids he passes as he stalks down the familiar corridors to his own suite. They’d been young here too, once.

 There are white lilies and roses in clusters in their accustomed vases in the first of his rooms. Philippe stops dead for a moment.

They’re fresh; cut this morning, from the perfection of their petals. Their scent hangs heavy in the air, spring itself despite the late summer outside. It’s sweet and thick, and so familiar his throat closes for a moment and his fist clenches on the flower he’d reached out to touch, crushing it.

Did someone have them put out on purpose? For a moment, Philippe wonders. A mourning lady-in-waiting who’d admired his wife, perhaps.

Louis?

He shakes his head, angry at himself for the thought. It’s an order Henriette gave with a decisive clap of her hands a decade ago, and never revoked. Part of the pattern of this place, the pattern they all follow, weaving something greater together. The court hasn’t been at the Palais-Royal since his mother died, but the curtains are still drawn open and closed each day by the staff that remain, in case Louis should come: the gardens cared for, the flowers placed in his rooms as part of the usual preparation for Monsieur’s residence.

-

“There you are,” the Chevalier says, sounding aggrieved. “Do you know, I had to be quite firm with the guard on your doors before they would let me pass? You shouldn’t have ridden ahead like that and left the poor old fellow and I in your dust – Oh, good, you’ve found something suitable.”

Philippe turns around. The long black train of his mantle swirls around his ankles. “I’m being thrifty,” he says, the word in his mouth an unpleasant thing. “Am I quite out of fashion?”

The Chevalier smiles. “You look magnificent,” he says, and touches Philippe’s cheek with a fingertip. He smells like musk and ambergris, the scent of him usually enough to make Philippe’s stomach warm, his cock stir. Strong, powerful. Male. “Down to your shoe buckles. Jet?”

“Black diamonds,” Philippe says, giving him an appalled glance for the suggestion. “Oh, of course; you weren’t here for Mother’s funeral.”

“This is what you wore then?”

“I didn’t have time to order new clothes,” Philippe says, and the Chevalier glances at him, but forbears to mention the past three weeks at Saint-Cloud, enough time to turn out a full trousseau for even the least endowed of heiresses. “That will have to be attended to. There will be –” he swallows – “Ceremonies. Formal visits of condolence from members of the family, dignitaries of the court.”

“And then the funeral,” the Chevalier says. His eyes have gone soft, honey-hazel, salt-caramel. Henriette’s eyes were darker. 

“And then the funeral,” Philippe says, and closes his eyes. Admitting that feels like one of Louis’s victories; a humiliating defeat. A painful thing, lodging in his throat like a stone. It was easier in Saint-Cloud to pretend that Henriette was still at Versailles, where he left her. Alive, only in the next room. He doesn’t want the Chevalier to look at him like that.

“I’ll be by your side,” the Chevalier says, and his voice has gone soft, too. Gentle. It’s not a common tone for him, although he’s not incapable of careless kindness when it suits him. Genuine tenderness is rarer still.

“I shouldn’t have brought you,” Philippe says, and opens his eyes. “You can’t be by my side. Not for this.”

The Chevalier looks like he’s been slapped. “Philippe –”

“We have to be serious. I have to be serious.”

“I only want to help–”

“You can’t.” Philippe smiles, unhappily. “This time is for family.”

“God help you, then,” the Chevalier says, in a tone Philippe's more familiar with, and takes a step back.

-

Henriette is dead. His wife died in Louis’s bed, the way she lived, choking on black bile and her own blood and then the air itself, thick with the smell of lilies.

-

As soon as Philippe is officially in residence, the visits begin. They continue with monotonous regularity for the next three days. Philippe is scrupulously well-behaved with most of the useless courtiers, lies rolling around their mouths like marble. There are a few who look genuinely sorry. He’s icily, regally Bourbon with the ambassadors from Spain and from Venice and from Genoa, from the German princelings and Scandinavias. With the cardinal from Rome. He’s a little less well-behaved with the two-tongued lying bastard from the Netherlands who condoles with him, saying how the stories of Madame's beauty and grace gone before her; what a loss she must be to France!

"She is a great loss to me," Philippe says. "She had already brought the greatest possible glory to France."

 "Truly, your highness," the Dutchman says, and turns the sweaty colour of one of his pale cheeses. Philippe can only hope that he reports the conversation to his master verbatim. If William of Orange doesn't understand his meaning now, he'll understand it soon. 

"Philippe," the Queen says, and kisses his cheek. Of course she looks good in mourning. She's Spanish. She's at her most comfortable in a black mantilla and clutching a crucifix. 

Marie-Therese fills the formal role of queen admirably in court ceremonials, but she draws back her dignified skirts from the day-to-day of the court, the theatricals and the dances and the back-biting. It was Henriette's responsibility to be the female energy of the court, at the heart of each banquet, dancing the lead of each masque and court ballet. Louis overflows with meaning, produces it in excess, and one wife alone isn't enough to channel it for him, to fill all roles female for France the way Louis fills all male roles.

It'll be the Montespan's job, soon, if Philippe knows his brother - and he does. The women themselves are interchangeable to Louis. The work goes on.

"Sister," Philippe says, and kisses her cheek in turn. The lace of her veil is gritty under his lips. 

Marie-Therese regards him soberly when he draws back. She doesn't like him. Philippe's always known that she doesn't approve of him, even before she made it clear in the regency conseil chamber.

She looks tired. Her face is drawn more tightly than usual, her dark eyes heavy. It would touch Philippe, if he thought it was truly for Henriette. "My husband sends his regards."

"Funny, then, that he sends them through you," Philippe says.

Marie-Therese stares at him. People think Louis has poise, but he's easy enough to upset if you know his weak places and aren't afraid to put your fingers in them - which, in all fairness, most people are. Louis has nothing on his wife. "He has been otherwise engaged."

"I do believe I could put money on just how he's been engaging himself," Philippe says. "How is dear Athénaïs?"

"She is well," Marie-Therese says. "And the Chevalier de Lorraine?"

 "Prostrate with grief."

"Henriette is a great loss." 

"It was her left side," Philippe says. "I was trying to help. It was her left."

Marie-Therese’s face, still and regal as a wooden Madonna, doesn’t change. He can’t read in her face whether she believes him or not. He wants to shake her until a real emotion comes out. “It’s in God’s hands now.”

“You of all people should know better than to confuse the king with God,” he says.

-

 “Your highness,” Masson says. Her hands are clutched behind her back. She really is absurdly plain, brown from the sun and strained from whatever books she spends her time on. The male attire makes her look plainer. “Monsieur.”

There’s some kind of irony in the fact that Louis has made a pet of this girl dressed in boy’s clothing, but treats Philippe with such colossal scorn over his female finery. What’s her actual name? He can’t ask her that. Louis has forbidden it. The king states she is a man, and – voila! She is a man.  “Monsieur Masson.”

“I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.” Her eyes are earnest and blue in her simple face. Far too earnest for Louis’s court. “The damage done by the poison was simply too much. I wished so much – but I did all that could be done for her highness.”

“I’m sure you did,” Philippe says lightly. He holds his hand out to her to be kissed and looks pointedly to his left. “I thank you for your service.”

She doesn’t move.

Honestly.

“Etiquette,” Philippe says, “for male members of the King’s household, states that you go to one knee when dismissed by a son of France, mutter ‘It was my honor, your highness,’ kiss my rings, and get to your feet in one smooth motion. It shouldn’t be too difficult. Come now.”

“I came to make my report to you,” the boy-girl says, hands still clenched behind her. “About Madame la Duchesse’s death.”

“I was there. I know what happened.”

“Yes, your highness,” Masson says. Her eyes are still too sorry. He remembers them from that night.

What a horrid, intimate vigil it had been.

Henriette’s left hand in his, her blood gurgling in her throat; Louis on the other side of the bed, holding her right. She’d reached for him first, of course. Philippe had been the afterthought, her gesture to him the last attempt in a lifetime to balance the equation belatedly.

“You left the court after her highness’s death -"

 “I was there while she was alive.”

“Yes, your highness. What I meant is that you were not there to receive my report on her death.”

“You report to Louis.”

“I must also report to you.”

“Well, that’s a new line,” Philippe says. He recrosses his legs, one gleaming shin in its black silk stocking replacing its partner in the ascendant. “I assume he told you to come here today. When is my dear brother planning to make his own sympathy call?”

Masson says nothing. What can someone outside their particular knot of Bourbon blood and loyalty and fear say? It’s best to say nothing at all. Philippe would approve, if he didn’t read her adamant loyalty to Louis into her strained face.

Louis trusts her. How unfair that she seems to be worthy of it.

 “Well?”

 “I conducted the autopsy on Madame la Duchesse, on the king’s orders. The stomach was flooded with a fermented bile, and the organs of the abdominal cavity were in an advanced state of gangrene –”

“Stop,” Philippe says. 

He’s going to be sick. The room swims. His shoe-buckles glisten up at him, the dark diamonds in their silver settings performing marvelous feats of multiplication, dividing into twos and fours and eights.

Masson is holding his arm and saying, “Keep your head low, your highness. Take a full breath. And another. Do you have any scent?”

He needs her to stop touching him. No wonder she came into his apartments with her hands behind her back. Those hands had cut Henriette apart and opened her for study, had exposed the shadowy places in her heart, the secrets and the sadness. 

Masson’s advice helps, and after a few lungfuls Philippe has a hold on himself enough to wave her aside. “Finish your report. It was poison?”

“Antimony,” Masson says. She’s still too close, still watching him as though he’s her patient, but she drops back into her report. “As we had suspected, but my tests have now confirmed it. She would have felt pain in her right, your highness, as well as her left. I could not have saved her once the poison was ingested.” That helps, somewhat; and not at all. “That is my private report, known to the king and the queen, and to Marchal and Louvois. His majesty has had it given out that her highness died of a colic in an attack of cholera morbus.”

“Of course he has.” Louis can’t be blamed for it if Henriette died a natural death. “He sent you to tell me this.”

“He wished you to know.”

“How thoughtful of him.”

Masson is still looking at him with earnest, diagnostic eyes. Philippe offers his hand again, in distance and in dismissal, and this time she manages an almost acceptable bow before leaving.

-

[flowerpowell]

The Dream Life of Ellie Wheeler (Colt x MC // Logan x MC)

PART THREE

A/N: .... I headcanon (fancanon?) that Colt and Ellie live in the same house as they did in The Boy Next Door (except we only have one bedroom here 😉). Sorry for the wait but I hope it’ll be worth it. Let me know what you think about this series because I’m still unsure 🙊 

Rating: G 

Tagging: @delightfullypinkglitter, @mskaneko, @desiree-pow, @lovehugsandcandy, @badchoicesposts​, @kingliam2019​, @client-327​, @walkerduchess​, @sophxwithers​ ❣

“I go on too many dates But I can't make 'em stay At least that's what people say, mm, mm That's what people say, mm, mm”

“My daddy commissary made it to commas Bitch, all my grandmas dead So ain't nobody prayin' for me, I'm on your head, ayy”

“Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake”

“If I gotta go hard on a bitch, I'ma make it look sexy I pull up, hop out, air out, made it look sexy They won't take me out my element Nah, take me out my element”

“Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake I shake it off, I shake it—"

“Hey!” Ellie exclaimed when Colt turned off the radio. “I was listening to something, you know!”

“I was listening to something as well,” he replied, his eyes glued to the road ahead of them. “But since you kept changing my song back to that pop shit, I’d rather drive in silence.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. They were on the road for many hours now and apart from the time she took to take a nap, they had been arguing about the music playing in the car majority of the time.

“Taylor Swift is not that bad, actually. I’m sure you’d enjoy—”

“Right now, all I want is to enjoy the silence.” Colt narrowed his eyes but still didn’t look at Ellie.

“Hey! I have that song somewhere on my phone! I can play it and—”

“Ellie! I’m driving! Can you keep your mouth shut for at least ten minutes?”

“Okay, okay. Sorry,” she quickly said and looked away. Not that there was much to look at but she didn’t want risk Colt changing his mind and driving her back to California. After all, he agreed to her plan and now they were driving to Oklahoma. Ellie really tried to be nice to him. Colt definitely didn’t even bother. Not that she expected anything else.

Her father also didn’t take it in very well. When she came home with marriage certificate in one hand, dragging Colt with the other one, detective Wheeler almost passed out from anger. And shock. But mostly anger.

She knew why.

Yes, he was angry that she got married without telling him but she married a Kaneko. And her father hated Teppei and devoted his life to find dirt on him. And now with Ellie being married to a Kaneko, Mr. Wheeler had to drop the case completely in the name of ‘no family affairs’ policy. Colt’s “hello Daddy” probably didn’t help either. In short, her father was so angry that Ellie was sure there was no higher level of angry.

Colt and Ellie left the same day and Ellie hadn’t spoken to her father since. Freedom tasted a bit sad but so good at the same time.

“Oh! McDonald’s! I’m so hungry, maybe we could—” Ellie pointed her finger at the restaurant as Colt picked up speed and they passed it in a blink of the eye. She looked at her husband and rolled her eyes. He couldn’t even bother to hide that awful smirk. Jerk.

“Your ten minutes of no talking isn’t over yet,” he noticed and Ellie sighed. This man was a nightmare.

Just a few more weeks. You’re doing it for Langston. Think of Langston. Think of—

“We have only six more hours. I think it’s pointless to stop anywhere to eat. You can make dinner when we’re home, wifey.” Colt finally looked at her and smiled smugly. Ellie wanted to punch him so bad but instead she only nodded and focused on the road.

Langston. Think of Langston.

~~~~

Colt didn’t intend to make it any easier for Ellie Wheeler. She blackmailed him, him, and now he was stuck with her. He couldn’t even leave the country as he wanted initially because her father would be capable of sending literal troops after him.

He still remembered Mr. Wheeler’s face when he realized Ellie married him. Teppei Kaneko’s son. For a short moment, Colt thought Mr. Wheeler would explode. Literally explode because Colt could count every single vein on his neck and face. At least he had to drop his father’s case. Colt was safe, as Ellie promised.

He looked at Ellie as she was stretching after the long ride. She was like a weed, he couldn’t get rid of her no matter what he tried to do.

“Here we are,” Colt said, taking his suitcases and leaving Ellie’s still in the car. “Take your stuff and you can start making dinner. I’m quite hungry.”

“You wouldn’t be if you’d stop at McDonald’s! Or literally anywhere else.”

“Why would I do it if my wife works in a coffee shop and is great at cooking?”

He heard her taking a deep breath and counting quietly to ten.

As he said. He had no intention of making it any easier for Ellie Wheeler.

~~~~

After dinner, for which Ellie ordered pizza since there was nothing edible in the house, Colt went upstairs to his bedroom, leaving Ellie alone downstairs. Her suitcases were still in the living room and she wondered where she was supposed to go. The house was pretty small; there was a spacious living room and a kitchen on the first floor and one bedroom and a bathroom on the second.

Ellie climbed up the stairs and hesitantly knocked on Colt’s bedroom door. At least two minutes passed before he opened the door.

“Yes?”

“Umm… Where can I sleep?” She asked hoping there was another bedroom which she hadn’t noticed before. She surely didn’t want to sleep with Colt in the same room. Considering what Colt thought about her, she was sure he felt the same.

“Definitely not here,” he replied.

“That I know.” Ellie took a deep breath. “But I need to sleep somewhere.”

Colt shrugged. “Not my problem. Should’ve thought about it before you made me marry you.”

“I’m sorry, okay! It’s only temporary, I’ll ask around and find a place in a dormitory and you’ll get rid of me.”

“You can sleep in the living room. Sofa’s comfortable.” And with that, Colt closed the door, ending their conversation.

Ellie went downstairs and put her blankets and pillows on the sofa, taking a mental note to buy some bedding. She took a quick shower, taking another mental note to buy a shower gel because the one she found smelled like Colt and she didn’t like it. Feeling a rush of anxiety, she ran to her improvisatorial bed. She closed her eyes, dreaming of her life here, hoping her mother would be proud.

~~~~

“See you’re already in a wife mode.”

“What?” Ellie stopped reading a book to look at Colt.

“Wearing baggy sweats and all. I think I’ve seen you in this Langston sweatshirt a million times and I’ve known you only for a few days,” Colt mocked her, not trying even for a split second to be nice to someone who blackmailed him.

“Well, it’s not like I have anyone to impress,” Ellie snapped back and Colt rolled his eyes. If he thought his job was difficult, he clearly never experienced being fake-married to someone like Ellie Wheeler. Although to be fair, he was probably more awful to her than she to him.

“Good,” he thought to himself. “She blackmailed me. She deserves it.”

And even though he hated her, he also understood her. She wasn’t the only one with a terrible father.

“Did Mona leave the country?” She suddenly asked.

“Hm? Why are you asking?”

“Just curious. You said it was your last job so I assumed…”

“Yeah, left. I would too if someone didn’t force me to put a ring on my finger.” He waved his left hand to prove a point. He wasn’t even sure why he was putting this stupid wedding band onto his finger every day. Ellie wasn’t wearing hers.

“As I said… I’m sorry. But at least my father dropped the case. And as far as I’m concerned no one else was involved in it but my father so… you’re in the clear.”

“Gee, thanks. How nice of you.”

“So it was you and Mona then? Only the two of you? Or is there someone else?”

Colt eyed her suspiciously. “Why are you asking?”

“Just curious,” she repeated. “When Teppei was still around I didn’t see anyone else. And then only you and Mona.” She was silent for a moment. “Colt?”

“Yea?”

“I’m really sorry about your father.”

Colt didn’t say anything for a while and Ellie assumed it was the end of their conversation. She went back to reading her book when he spoke.

“Just me, Mona and Pop.”

“Like three musketeers.” Ellie smiled.

“No. Like MPC.”

“MPC?”

“Geez, don’t you have classes to go to or something?” Colt rolled his eyes.

“Not in another two hours,” she replied. The classes technically hadn’t started yet but Ellie signed up for additional classes for freshman students.

“Mercy Park Crew. That’s us.”

“Hmm, I’ve seen MPC somewhere in my father’s files but I’m pretty sure he never realized it was you.”

“And hopefully he never will,” Colt added. Why was he telling her all of this?

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Was there anything in the files?” Colt asked. “About other car gangs?”

Ellie looked at him curiously. “No… Are there any other gangs?”

Colt was looking somewhere in the distance and it took him a moment to reply. “Yea. Our rivals. Forget it.”

“I could… do some research if you’d like—”

“Just go to your class, okay? Stop with this investigation,” he said and left the house, banging the door on his way out.

Ellie sat stunned for a few minutes before she finally decided she’d rather come too early to her class than stay in the house for another second.

~~~~

Freedom smelled like fall, felt like sun warming her face, tasted like cold air and looked like Oklahoma.

Ellie’s dream life was finally starting.

She felt tears forming in her eyes as she looked at her Langston University. Everything she went through, the arguments with her father, marrying Colt, bearing with Colt… it was all worth it.

Slowly, looking around as if not wanting to miss a single thing, she made her way through the campus. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Freedom filled her lungs. She was walking with her eyes closed, smile on her face. Everything was—

“Ooof!” She bumped into someone and would have fallen if the stranger didn’t catch her in time. Dream life or not, she still was clumsy.

“You know,” the stranger started, helping her stand up. “There are easier ways to get my attention.”

“I, uh… Thanks. I’m sorry about bumping into you. I won’t happen again, I promise.”

“It won’t? Too bad.”

“I… I’m sorry… I…” Ellie stammered as the handsome stranger smirked.

“First day?”

“Yes,” Ellie got her voice back. “I’m Ellie.”

“Nice to meet ya, Ellie. I’m Logan.”

[tar-oh]

Pick A Pile: What’s Coming At you in love

So, a few weeks ago I started a pile that ended up feeling really heavy and just not what you needed to hear. Like, I think a lot of us were going through some stuff (and maybe still are) and at that moment, it wasn’t a love message you guys needed. So, today I did a new one and this one felt so much better and happier? Also, you can tell I’m procrastinating schoolwork. lol So anyway, this is about what’s coming towards you in love. Most of the piles seem to focus on things that are already kind of going on, but some seemed to be about new things. So, I really do have to ask that you please only take what resonates and not try to make anything that doesn’t fit, fit. My biggest fear is that I’m going to give someone some false hope, so if it really does not sound like you or your situation, then don’t take it. But, also, know that it’s a general reading so it may not fit you and it also may be just super vague. That being said, you can choose more than one because maybe there’s one with more of the message for you or there’s more than one person coming towards you? Anyway, just choose the one you feel most called to.

Today, I’m feeling a Musketeers vibe so I’m using a picture of the guys from BBC’s Musketeers for you guys to choose: 1: Aramis, 2: Athos, 3: D’Artagnan, 4: Porthos :

Pile 1: Aramis

Cards: The Empress, 7 of Wands reversed, King of Swords, The Hierophant reversed, 8 of wands reversed, Death  I kind of get the sense that this pile is one that's been alone for a bit. I mean, maybe not a really long time, but like some of you were. With the empress I see that you're taking care of yourself, and even though it's 7 of wands and reversed, I get kind of a 9 of pentacles feel from this particular card. In this one she's just smelling the flowers, but content. But with it reserved, I see like this idea of feeling alone? Like, okay the first song that played when I started this pile was Moonlight Lines by Movements, and it's about two people who just kind of want someone to fill their bed with them. Like, this sense of wanting another body with them. Basically, a one night stand, but also someone to sleep next to for a night, right? I'm not necessarily getting a one-night-stand vibe as what's coming towards you (really, not at all), more just that feeling of wanting someone to be with you at night. A body beside yours. And, like this empress energy is you taking care of yourself but also you wanting to care for someone else. And, 7 of wands being reversed can be an exhausted energy. Like a, when am I going to find someone? But, also, I draw that 9 of pentacles feeling from it too because it's not like you're not doing okay. Like, I think you've been fine alone, but now you're just bored. The next song that played was Love Took The Last Of It by Movements, and I kind of think maybe you've been burned and maybe it took you a while to feel better and want to open up again. Or, maybe you just kind of have a habit of getting into situations that aren't for you and they fall through, so like, you're tired of this. I get the Death card with that, like you want to end this cycle. And I see death as being that, an end to a cycle. I always talk about how much I love that card, it's the card of change. Like, yes it means endings, but beginnings too? So, like, you're just ready to move out of this energy of being alone. The hierophant being reversed to me means that whoever it is coming towards you is not really your usual type. Upright, the Heirophant is all about convention and playing by the rules, and reversed it'd be the opposite, though I'm not reading it that way with this reading. Especially not with the King of Swords showing up. No, instead I'm just reading the Hierophant reversed as maybe this is someone who maybe at first when you meet, you're kind of like, "Oh, I don't know. They're not really following the standards I look out for." I don't mean someone not good for you. I mean, like as in maybe you have a list in your mind and this person doesn't really have all of those things on that list. Maybe they check a few, but there's a few things where you're kind of thinking that maybe it won't work. But, with the King of Swords, I see that they're really honest, maybe to a fault. And, the king on this particular card is old, but I don't really think it's that way for everyone, though I feel like for many of you there is an age gap but I don't think it's one like in this card where the girl towards the bottom of the card looks younger and he looks like he could be her grandpa or something. But, I think that him being older here also might point out that one of you is really wise. Like, old-soul wise. So maybe this is someone you look up to? A mentor of some sort, or just someone you look to for advice. I'm not sure. This could be reversed, and maybe your older than them/they look up to you, and maybe it's even that you're not their usual type? With the 8 of wands being reversed, I see that maybe this is just going to take a bit longer than you'd want. Like, maybe you two need more time to get to know each other. Or, even meet I guess since this is more along the lines of what's coming towards you. Anyway, I see it as coming slowly. Maybe it's delayed a little (which, I mean, at least here in the USA, things are still pretty crappy with Covid and doesn’t look to be getting better) So, this might just be a while out. But, again, with the death card, I see it being an end of a cycle. So maybe before you both can meet or end up together/around each other, you need to close out some things. Like, the Death card REALLY sticks out to me today. And it's funny because, it's the Scorpio card, and so that's like around Halloween, right? The Lovely Omen's deck Death card is so pretty. She wears this black and white striped suit, and like, it reminds me SO much of Beetlejuice lol so I'm getting halloween vibes here, so maybe that's significant to you both, like maybe a birthday in Scorpio season, or the surrounding sign seasons through out like Oct-Nov? Or, maybe that movie's plot has something significant to you both? (seeing this also with King of Swords too, like air signs, so Libra season so, again, october?) Or, maybe it's as simple as it being black and white and like again going back to the Heirophant being reversed and this idea that this is someone who may not fit what you're originally looking for or vice-versa, maybe it's like stop looking at everything so black and white. Look at the greys in between, right? I also want to point out that she's also wearing a moon necklace on the card, and this deck has a lot of references to the moon and stars in the other cards, but this necklace always stands out to me because it's reminds me of how with change comes uncertainty. So maybe it's going to feel really uncertain, especially with the idea of looking at the grays in between? Like, its kind of scary, but like, nothing in life is ever really all that certain? So, like, this unknown is staring straight at you, and I think these cards are kind of saying, "You obviously know how to take care of yourself, so you're going to be okay. Just try something new" Like, oof. I don't know where that last sentence came from, but yeah! Exactly how I'm feeling about this! Or. This person does have gray hair. Lol i mean I’m fairly young for gray hair and I get them when I’m super stressed. Like, look at Logan Lerman, he looks GORGEOUS with gray hair (and Im his age so!!! High Five to us for premature gray hairs!) (Okay, I had written earlier that this didn't seem like new energy but I deleted it because I was like idk, but the song Seneca by Movements came on -which i have it on shuffle but for some reason it's only playing this album?- and it's about someone thinking about how they still love an ex who's now engaged and like how bittersweet it is how they enjoy how happy they look but they miss them and like! Idk! for some this is definitely an ex, but for others it just someone you know already probably!!!) So, maybe even if it's not someone new, it's a new situation? Like, maybe this relationship with this person, even if you've never been in an actual one with them, it's like new to you both. New territory. And, the song In my Blood by Movements came on because again, it's not really shuffling the playlist, lol, but this feels like maybe this is someone you just have a connection to. Like, even if you two haven't known each other that long, you just feel that bond. And like going back to that scorpio energy, its intense I think. In that King of Swords card, that lady looks like she's kind of worshiping this king, and I think it's going to feel that way for both of you. Hopefully not like an obsessive thing, but more like a, you both really have the hots for each other and at any given point, you're both playing that lady on that card, hanging onto the other like that. And he looks really serious, so maybe someone here is really serious and more of an all-work-and-no-play kind of person, but like I don't read that as an absolute bummer. I read it more as someone who's like, just really good at getting shit done, even the hard stuff. Also, he's got a great body lmao so I think you're going to end up being super attracted to this person, even if it's not a jaw-dropping eyes meet the first time story, ya know? Like I said earlier, it's kind of a slow burn I think. I don't have any cups here, which I guess might pose a problem, because at first it seems like a lack of emotions? But I have swords and wands so I see a lot of action. But I also feel like you connect on an intellectual level, like I get that with the Hierophant (even if it's reversed) and King of Swords. I also feel like you'll have like an earthy kind of connection. Like, even though I feel there's a lot of passion, I also see that you two can just chill. Bottom of the deck energy for the Lovely Omens Deck was High Priestess. So, I definitely read this as you kind of maybe having a feeling that this is coming towards you. Also, with the hierophant, even with it being reversed, in this deck she's wearing moon earrings, but they're crescent moons. So, it's like the moon is whole with the two halves, and I definitely see that as another hint at knowing? Like, going back to the 7 of wands reversed and how I felt more of the 9 of pentacles with it instead, like you being alone for a while, but like maybe you kind of know something's going to happen. I think the death card also maybe says this to you, because you're aware that something's changing. Like, maybe you don't know exactly what, but it's changing and you feel this shift in the energy. The other deck has 7 of Swords here, and I really hate seeing this in a love reading, but I also kind of get that maybe it's just for those of you who do know each other, maybe at this exact moment you're not being truthful about feelings? Things that might be relevant: Taurus, Libra, Scorpio, October and November. Halloween. 13 or 31. 3, 7, Beetlejuice, I don't know! That black and white suit is so prominent to me today on that card! It always stands out but I never really thought about beetlejuice before, so lemme know if that resonates! Pile 2: Athos

Cards: Ace of Wands, 4 of Wands, Knight of Cups, The Hierophant, Judgement reversed, The Hanged Man With this one, I feel like someone in this is ignoring their feelings. Like, with the Hanged Man being here I definitely see that it's someone literally hanging back and thinking about things. And with Judgement reversed, I see that it's like a waiting period. So, I think this is an established connection, but like, nothings happening. Like, maybe not even communication, or like if there is, it's like you're not really talking. At least, not about what's going on between the two of you. And also Skin to Skin came on, and the first line in this song is interesting to me because it's "I'm certain that I'll circle back to you", so it's like neither of you are too worried, but maybe there's some frustration (but I don't really see that in the cards. They all kind of feel super chill, so I think whoever this is, they're really chill lol) There's also another line that makes me l think about this but also, the knight of cups gives me this vibe: "I know that you're so preoccupied..." And like, again, I feel this stagnation but like it's a chill one. Like you're both accepting that maybe it's supposed to happen? Just not now. And, so like this "preoccupied" person is like the hanged man, hanging back and thinking things through. I don't think it's that they're unsure. I think they know how they feel (the stars and the moons in her hair on the hangedman card definitely brings this to mind, like this knowing of the unknown, but also having hope, so it's like whoever this is, knows what they're not sure of if that makes sense! Same with the judgement card but she also has the sun on it! So she's holding all the hope, mysteries and happiness in her arms!!!) Ace of wands is like this new passion. Like, maybe after stagnancy is this moment where you two can express this passion, and with the Knight of Cups, I see that too. But, he's not moving on a horse like the other decks usually have. He's just sitting and look at that cup but looking really kind of...He looks like he's pouting honestly, but I don't get that from this. Like, he's looking at this covered cup and it's got stars, so again that hope is there. He has that hope, but it's covered up, so it's kept to him for now if that makes sense. But, with this ace of wands, I see a new start and like i think it's this start where he opens up that cup and out pours all those thoughts the hanged man had. And, the 4 of wands suggests this harmony that's coming with this. Like, you two just click and you balance each other out. And I'm sure you both know this. With this deck, sometimes you can read the looks on their faces two ways, like how the deck explains the card and also maybe a different way, so I kind of always can see two ways of looking at the faces. Some look sad but could also be contemplating things.  This card is definitely one of those cards. This one is about bringing difficulties to an end with alliances, I don't really think this was that difficult? Like, maybe I'm not getting the whole story. Maybe this period of stagnation has been a long time and you're both just tired of not seeing each other now or talking more, but like, I guess this is kind of you two coming together and bringing an end to this period of nothing. And the look on the one girls face, the one in the yellow dress, she looks tired but she looks so into this other girl, so like I think that's kind of what's going to happen. One day you're both are going to just simultaneously agree that you're done with this nothing and want something? Like, I don't think you're going to say it before deciding it but once it's decided you BOTH are going to be opening up your star cups and pour it all out. Bottom deck energy for this is the Death card and the high priestess. I wasn't going to mention it, but I almost feel like for a few of you, you should check out pile 1, mostly because Death was in that pile but also the High Priestess was bottom deck energy for that one too (just a different deck). But, these tell me that there's going to be a change. Like, I said you're going to get tired of this stagnation, and I think it's an end of a cycle within this particular relationship. And the high priestess brings back that idea of "I'm certain I'll circle back to you..." where there's a knowing that this isn't really done. It's just at a standstill. So, yeah. I think this stagnation will end. I don't know WHEN, I don't get a when. But, I don't think it's going to be FOREVER from now, especially because you did get 3 major arcana! Also, wands feels quicker and you got the ace of wands! So I feel like it's kind of a "whenever" kind of thing, which isn't very helpful. It could be tomorrow or next year, ya know? Though, as I was writing this the song 12 Weeks by Movements came on! So! For someone it MIGHT be 12 Weeks. It's interesting though, because the end of the song is something like "Fall in love and fall away", which I don't see that as an end, again kind of like you two caught feelings and then were put in a stand still? But, also with that 4 of wands card, it really feels like everything around them falls away around them, so maybe that's just kind of how you two are together. Like, you talk and there could be other people there, but it all falls away. You could be in a group conversation, but for some reason it feels like all the words you both say are pointed towards the other rather than the group? Again, take what resonates. If you know no one where your connection is like this than I really do not think this is your pile. Things that are relevant: Celestial bodies (like the sun, the moon, stars), butterflies (specifically pink and purple), Sagittarius, Taurus

Pile 3: D’Artagnan

Cards: Justice, The Star(s), Queen of Swords, 8 of Pentacles, 3 of Swords reversed, 3 of cups Justice was the first card to fall out, and immediately I knew it was about a group who got the short end of the stick or something when it comes to love. Like, I hear, short end of the stick, like. Okay, so Queen of Swords is always described as like a woman alone who's been scorned, but I usually don't go by that because I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who are Queen of Sword types who haven't really had issues with love, they're just kind of That Way. But, like with Justice, I definitely see this as someone who was hurt in the past by love. Like, again. Short end of the stick. New Song D by the Front Bottoms is playing and there's this part in the bridge where he talks about how someone sold him a bike for $50 when the brakes weren't working, so like he was cheated out of $50 when he thought maybe it was worth $25 ? Like, Okay. So, with this, I'm getting that he was cheated money out of this, right? And maybe that is the case for some of you, but I'm getting more of an energy cheat if that makes sense. Like, you put a lot of energy into someone and a situation, and all they gave back was 1/4 of what you gave, and I'm getting that because I think maybe they thought they were giving you more (1/2 but still not enough), but they weren't, and you were just cheated out of this and left feeling drained because it was all one sided. And, I'm not saying this person didn't feel anything for you, I mean, they might have felt something but weren't able to give back the same amount because of things going on in their life. Or they were just like that. And there's another part in this song where he says "You wouldn't start because I wouldn't stop" and maybe it's also like you were giving too much even for them to like, take? Maybe it was just too much on their end and couldn't receive that much and too much for you to give so then you're both left with a disappointing situation. I also see 8 of pentacles kind of confirming this, like so much hard work was put into it on your end, but not enough to make it balanced. And it is NOT your fault. Like I feel the need to tell you that you have a big heart and that it's not your fault that someone else couldn't accept it the way you needed them to. 3 of swords reversed tells me that you're healing, though. Like, this happened and it probably really hurt but now you're healing. For some, because there are 2 3's, I think this was a case of being cheated on, but I don't think that's for everyone. Like, I really feel more like this was an unbalanced give and take situation. But, with the Justice here, I see that it WILL be balanced and whatever is coming in for you, will be more balanced. I almost feel, though, like this pile is less about what's coming and more about how you'll be doing better? Like, what's coming is really good and balanced, but also, you're healing, and I think it's always really nice to be able to look back at a heartbreak and not feel as bad about it as you did before. Like, sure it's probably always going to give a pang, but like with time, it heals. And, I know you probably wanted so badly for this to work out with this person, and I'm so sorry it didn't. Trust me, All I've ever known is unrequited love, so I really get that feeling of that realization when it becomes clear it's not going to work. One deck's bottom card was the Ace of Swords, so again, like I think this was that clarity you had about it not working, but I also see it as you seeing that it's just that this was not meant for you and that there's something better. And, that better is the star and justice. Like, this new person is going to bring in a lot of hope an balance. Like, this star card has two people on it, and it kind of looks like they're balancing out, right? So, yes. Definitely a lot of balance. And this person, I think, is going to be a lot of fun. The 3 of cups in this reading, to me, is more about how I think you two are going to hit it off in a friendly way first. And like, this might not even be a romantic love. It could just be a really good friend you make or have that's with you through your healing. But either way, platonic or not, I think this person is going to be someone you can lean on in this tough period, but also someone you can have fun with. The same song, new song d, has a part in the chorus where he says "I fell down, you propped me up" and I see this as being how your relationship will go. When someones down, the other will prop them up.But this isn't going to be all take and no give like this last person. No, again, it's going to be super balanced. Bottom deck energy for the other deck was Knight of Wands and in my last reading I compared him to D'Artagnan in the Three Musketeers and I think when he's not off trying to save the world, he's a really fun dude. Also, this is kind of weird and I'm going to have to make sure in the picture I take I get one of this Knight of Wands, because on the top border there's this weird like squiggle shapes, but it looks to me like...bodies? (It's kind of like that with the Queen of Swords too, with the top border?) Like bodies doing yoga lmao but like. I think you two are going to be physical (like! not in a sexual sense unless you're old enough and consenting!!), but more in a, touchy, huggy sense. So again, that propping up, but like physically and mental propping up. But, also, like maybe you two are always kind of touching. Like, shoulders next to each other, knees colliding, hand holding. Oof. That sounds so cute! I'm a little jealous. OH! This is also kind of weird, but in the same card behind him are this shapes that look like fleur-de-lis! And that's so weird considering that I think of D'Artagnan, a musketeer when I see this card! Ah! Anyway, I just see this as super healing for you, whoever this is. The shapes also kind of remind me of phoenix's, so! Maybe that's a message there. Like, emerging from the ashes of your former self? This is weird, because the next song that came on was Sour, a collab by 1990nowhere, Olivver the Kid and others, but I think that's interesting because maybe it goes with the past for you, like it soured. Like it looked sweet and then it soured? Then Are you Bored Yet? by Wallows came on so taking that literal, like you grew tired of how it was going. So I'm not sure if anyone resonates with those two songs, but I thought they seemed significant. Possibly relevant: Libra, Aquarius, Musketeers, fleur-de-lis, yoga, 1990, 3, 8 Pile 4: Porthos

Cards: Knight of cups, 2 of cups, 7 of wands, the lovers, 6 of swords, King of Pentacles I wasn't going to do a pile 4, but thought I should and like, yeah I'm glad I did because this feels like something someone needs to hear. So, someone here is leaving something. I think maybe you might want to read my last pick a pile I posted on here about what you need to hear. I definitely think this group showed up in that one. So, again, someone is leaving something, but I keep wanting to type someone! Ahh! Sorry! But, maybe there is someone leaving someone? I definitely have the song Scrawny by Wallows stuck in my head so maybe you're leaving a "scrawny motherfucker with a cool hairstyle"? lol or not! Maybe that's just a song being stuck in my head because it was in there earlier today, but? Like? Maybe it was meant to come back around for this reading. Anyway, I get this idea from 6 of swords because that can be about a spiritual/mental journal, but also sometimes a physical one. So, like mentally and physically leaving a situation. Also, I've read that 6 in tarot is about journeys, and we got two 6's (6 of Swords and the lovers), and even though the lovers is about unity, I think it's also leaving that life before that unity behind? So, I read that into this whole, you're leaving something (or someone in this is leaving something or someone, so it could be this person coming towards you leaving something). Also, 8 of cups was on the bottom of one of the decks, and that again is about leaving something, like mentally/spiritually. But, like, this has cups so there's more of an emotional element to it. Like, leaving something that wasn't fulfilling you, going towards that 9 of cups wish fulfillment, right? So, there is that energy here, and like, I kind of feel like 9 of Cups should have shown up too, because I almost feel like whoever is coming towards you is kind of a wish come true. So, with knight of cups, i kind of read it like I did for another pile, but maybe more into his expression than i had for that one, where he looks kind of pouty. For that pile I said it was like he was kind of waiting to open up this cup that is in front of him that he's looking at. It has stars on it, so it's like his cup of hope? And the knight of cups is usually seen as a love offer, (though I typed over so again, I think someone out there is leaving someone?) so like this star cup, when he opens it, will have that offer for you? Like his heart is in there for you (not physically like his organ lmao). And with 7 of wands, I almost wonder if maybe you're defensive to let it in or maybe they're even too defensive to open up that cup? Someone here is defensive, but I don't think that's needed because I see so much stability with this. Like, we have the King of Pentacles here. So, not only do I think one or both of you are doing okay like financially (like, able to pay the bills and maybe have a nice roof over your head), but I also just see it as stable. Like, they're a shelf and your love is safe to place on. Does that make sense? Omg I'm so corny in this pile I love it. Both the Lover's and two of cups are these soft cards. Like, physically, these two cards from these decks look so soft. The love in these cards, guys. Phew. The two of cups shows this lady kind of hanging on this man, and they have these soft, fond gazes at each other. And then, with the lovers in the other deck, it's so sweet. She's kissing the other girl's cheek and they just look like they're content in the moment? So, I definitely see this as something fulfilling for you both, like you're both gonna be such suckers for each other. Probably constantly getting those heart eyes. Like, think Evie and O'Connell heart eyes, if you've ever seen The Mummy from 1999. Like, the looks they give each other. I'm totally getting those vibes. Maybe you two are going to be really snarky to each other too? But you’ll find it so endearing. Another thing I want to add is that I think you two are going to be perfectly balanced like literally Yin and Yang. I mean, one girl on the lovers card is all white and the other is all black. And then on the two of cups, They're kind of contrasted in terms of hair. Also! Bottom card energy for one deck was Justice, so yes. Definitely balance and yin and yang. I think this also goes back to the King of Pentacles, like I almost even get that Two of Pentacles energy of balancing out things, but being able to do so whereas the other twos kind of are about choices. But this one isn't. And it's weird, because sometimes the lovers can be read as choices, but I don't here. Not with this pile. And maybe there is a choice about leaving something/someone, but like I think once that's done and over with, this love comes in. And it could just be simple like a mindset? Like with all the cups here, I definitely think it could be a mindset. Like one that makes you super emotional, so maybe this is an existing relationship that just needs like a change? That's probably for a few of you, but for others, I see that this is something that comes after a shift in mind, or like a physical one. I mean, the song Make Way by The Front Bottoms was playing here, and like, that song is kind of about making space for the new? "I make way for the expensive things in my head." And, I've kind of gotten this Death Card vibe with every pile, and at first I was like not getting that with this pile, but idk, with 6 of swords and 8 of cups, I kind of get that? Like ending something to begin something? Ending with the song Nobody Gets Me (Like You) by Wallows, and I think this is what its going to feel like with this person. This pile is so cute. :) Things that could be relevant: Gemini, Libra, water signs, Capricorn (Pentacles are earth, but I really get a cap vibe with this one today), heart eyes, The Mummy lol

[beeblackburn]

Ghosts for the fandom ask as well! 👀

The first character I ever fell in love with: Thomas Thorne. “Ah, she’s gone” remains one hell of a delightful line delivery. And his following melodrama was just amazing to sit through. I love dramatic™ bitches.

A character that I used to love/like, but now do not: I... honestly don’t know? Like, I generally like every character in this series and that’s not particularly a small feat. I suppose if I had to choose... the Captain or Mike, and only because I’ve come to realize their later more self-centered/forcible moments were there from the get-go, from the Captain’s complaining about Fanny’s screaming and Mike taking out a loan without talking about it with Alison while she was in a coma, not necessarily because I dislike them.

A ship that I used to love/like, but now do not: Ummm, none! I generally agree with the ships in this series. 

My ultimate favorite character™: Thomas Thorne, he usually guarantees a laugh with any line reading, he looks good, he usually holds back before his crush on Alison gets too creepy, The Thomas Thorne Affair and Free Pass helps explain his more romantic tendencies and the former genuinely floored me with some of its twists and that last revelation broke my damn heart. Poor Isabelle and Thomas. They lost so much because the first Lord Button was a selfish arse. And I adore that Thomas was the first one who sung along In the Bleak Midwinter with Alison. I hope all the best for him.

Prettiest character: Kitty or Thomas. Kitty’s more my type, and I love her dress, but Thomas has those floofy locks to die for.

My most hated character: FUCK LORD BUTTON THE FIRST WITH A MUSKET BALL. That being said, I don’t come out of the Christmas Special respecting Mike’s sisters. And, depending on how Kitty’s backstory goes, her sister’s set to replace Lord Button the First. Honestly, I feel like I come out of this series hating cousins and sisters.

My OTP: Mike/Alison. Aside from some hiccups, Mike’s genuinely supportive and follows Alison’s lead and Alison grounds Mike’s eccentrics or flights of fear. They’re not friction-less, but they feel lived-in, have little jokes with each other, and are a couple who love each other and work through their problems.

My NOTP: Yeah, still none.

Favorite episode: Man, there’s a spoil of riches in Season 2 alone, but I keep revisiting Happy Death Day, Getting Out, About Last Night, Redding Weddy, The Thomas Thorne Affair, and Bump in the Night. If I had to narrow it down... The Thomas Thorne Affair, Bump in the Night or The Ghost of Christmas all vie for favorite.

The Thomas Thorne Affair is the best flashback episode Ghosts got, given it’s got a ton of narrative room to breathe around the death in question (I love Redding Weddy, but I wanted more scenes between the Captain and Lieutenant Havers), allowing for multiple perspectives to see the death, and I love how many holes get plugged up by POVs like Kitty’s or get misdirected off-track like Robin’s or get made into a more interesting imaginary scenario like the Captain’s (real talk, his take never fails to make me laugh, bless you, Captain). It’s all hilarious (that bird getting shot by Thomas’ gun as he falls is my second-guiltiest laugh of the series) but it also speaks to a very real idea of our memories: that we edit, we revise, we look back with nostalgia or clean up the messier bits. Add in the twists and the Mike subplot and it all adds up to a tragic tale whose theme is about how another man’s utter selfishness is capable of destroying a relationship between two lovers through violence, either directly or by proxy. It’s delightfully hilarious, but it hits so hard and Thomas’ words about the truth making it all worse twists my heart.

I feel Bump in the Night is the funniest episode Ghosts’ got. It’s not particularly serious, there are no real stakes, given one of the burglars is terrible at theft, it’s just a bunch of total morons fumbling through a breaking-and-entering and it’s amazing. Fanny complaining that the burglars are terrible at theft, the Ghosts calling for 999, only to not think through how to communicate, them trying to communicate with Mike via a creepy doll’s eyelids, Alison immediately realizing Mike’s in the wardrobe, Julian writing “2 of them” instead of 2 like a non-dumbass, MIKE IN THE SUIT OF ARMOR, it’s all amazingly funny, but at the same time, it’s all underlined by the emotional truth that Alison, Mike, and the Ghosts have come far enough that the Ghosts are willing to help them out because they like them, instead of scaring them off or causing problems like in Season 1. Alison verbalizes it, but the more touching scene is how she thanks Robin, the Ghost that first scared her because he had nothing better to do, for getting Barclay to help them and he just nods humbly back. This episode is full of idiots, but it’s got a decent amount of heart in it that gives it weight beyond the laughs.

The Ghost of Christmas probably has one of my favorite theses on why we endure the holidays with our families, despite it never being as magical as can be. There’s stuff to nitpick like how I don’t like how Mike’s sisters delight in Mike throwing a fit, going so far to film it, and some of Julian’s scenes with the baby run a bit long for my taste, but I really do like Julian’s summation of Christmas: that it’s perfect because it’s not perfect and that we should be grateful of any time we spend with family, because it will all go away someday, as the ghosts can testify. We take the good with the bad. There are some delightful humor bits like the Ghosts needling the Captain and Thomas to join in on Twister, Fanny looking up at the tall tree from the seeds they planted, Mike’s dad having a chainsaw, and Julian waving off his daughter being a MP of the Green Party (screw you, Julian, she rules because of that), but there’s also the theme of family in the emotional scene. When Mike’s dad tells him they’re overbearing because someday they won’t get to do things for him, there’s a heartwarming irony that, even past death, the Ghosts are there for Alison, their newest family member. This episode made me realize just how... barren Alison’s biological family connections are from the first episode’s mentioning that there were no other direct relatives. And In the Bleak Midwinter is a gorgeous song that cuts as a certain truth: just because others can’t see your family doesn’t make them any less real to you. 

Saddest death: Thomas dying all alone at the tree, no one living by his side, feeling the sting of being rejected one final time at the end because his cousin was a selfish arse who capitalized on a woman he didn’t love for her estate? God, this bears repeating, but fuck Lord Button the First.

Favorite season: Oh, definitely Season 2. I love Season 1, but I’m not a huge fan of second-hand embarrassment and seeing Alison get embarrassed by her reacting to ghosts that others can’t see made me wince quite a few times. I much prefer Season 2′s handling of Alison and the Ghosts and how they work.

Least favorite season: Season 1. I don’t take to the more second-hand embarrassment humor of that season, but I do love every episode except Free Pass. It’s still a great season with episodes like Happy Death Day, Moonah Ston, and Getting Out. Special mention to Happy Death Day, which was the first time I realized Ghosts could balance the comedy and the darkness with sincere emotion without them undercutting each other at the wrong time.

Character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate: Now? Not really. In the first season though, I sometimes found Kitty a little too grating, possessive, and intrusive. Not that I don’t get where she’s coming from, her childhood sounds lonely and painful in ways she doesn’t fully comprehend and ghosthood hasn’t exactly made her any less lonely in some ways, most times I understand, but sometimes, like at the start of Getting Out where I feel she really should pump the brakes. 

That being said, her backstory’s gonna break me. I just know it.

My ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave: Fanny or the Captain. They really can be abrasive or domineering in that first season, the Captain steamrolling over Pat from time to time and Lady Fanny’s nitpicking and homophobia, but I do get why they are that way and they do get better.

My ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave: Kitty, who deserves all the blankets for that childhood. Mary, who likely has a mental illness and got burnt because of that. Humphrey, who doesn’t deserve being ignored by the Ghosts.

My ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship: Thomas/Alison. Thomas, sometimes, your behavior can get a little too much regarding Alison. That first (thankfully only) peep at her in the shower, I know you’ve been frustrated for years as a Ghost, but noooooooo. That being said, when Thomas respects her boundaries and is a supportive friend (have I mentioned how touching In the Bleak Midwinter is?), I dig them.

My ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship: Pat/Cap. Not that I don’t get it, and it promises heartwarming feels and heartbreak (Pat moving on after they hook up and Captain having to watch another leave him again, but this time, Captain got to admit his feelings before the leaving) and they are rather adorable together, but I’m more waiting for the narrative to acknowledge the possibility before launching myself into the ship full-time.

[mymelodyheart]

Highland Destiny Chapter 5 ~Dinner for Two~

They were standing in the middle of the lounge, suspended in time and space, between heaven and earth, looking into one another's eyes. Claire's hand was still in Jamie's, his fingers generating tiny sparks that surged erratically through her body, fanned into a flame with just a little pressure of touch. His eyes, dark with wanting, bore into her soul, sending delicious heat to her core. She felt the sudden rush of blood to her head as her heart raced, scattering all logic and reasoning into some unknown dark abyss. She tried to summon a memory from the past; Frank, Oxford, the hospital corridors, her parents, uncle Lamb... anything to keep her from drowning into Jamie's deep blue. But it was futile. She was falling, dropping, slipping, but she had no idea into where.

The electrically charged interlude was interrupted by the sound of ringing from Claire's iPhone, jarring them from their trance and making them both blink. "  Dhia  !" Jamie murmured under his breath as his hand released Claire's, to rub the nape of his neck.

Ding! Ding! Saved by the bell. 

O' sweet Lord Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Ding ding indeed!

Regaining a tiny bit of composure, Claire reached behind the back pocket of her jeans, extracting her phone. "I need to take this," she whispered hoarsely, barely audible.

He nodded and motioned with his hands towards the doorway as he made his way to the kitchen. She nodded back with an apologetic smile.

Seeing the image of the caller on her phone, Claire momentarily forgot Jaime and what just transpired. "Geillis, darling!"

"Hiya chick! How are you daein'? O' my God, o' my God ah heard from Joe yoo're in town. Sae, ye moved here for good?" answered an animated woman's voice in broad Glaswegian.

" Absobloodylootely – YES! Oh God, it's so good to hear your voice, Geillis. We ought to meet up as soon as possible. Listen, are you free Friday night? If so, let's catch up then. It has been bloody ages!"

"Och this is so excitin'! Aye definitely, let's meet up. Maybe Joe will come too. Ah cannae wait tae see you and show you our shop. By th' way, what's wrang wi' ye? Ye sound like ye hae bin runnin'. 'Tis a bad time?"

Claire twisted backwards to peek through the doorway. She saw Jamie leaning over the sink, splashing water to his face and neck and felt the heat crept up her own. "Well, kind of. Look, sorry to make this short but got to go. I promise to call you first thing tomorrow. Is Scotch & Rye Pub on Friday at 7 ok? I've been told that its the place to be. We can grab some fish and chips if you fancy."

"Brilliant, sorted! Scotch & Rye pub it is then Friday at 7! Ah cannae wait. An', och, Claire...you hae a laddie there wi' ye?" She can almost see her friend's cheeks dimpling and giving a wicked wink.

"Sod off, Geillis!"   She always knows, the bloody cow!   With that, Claire turned off her phone.

Although she was so thrilled to hear from her friend, the call was a welcomed distraction. Geillis was one of her closest mates in Oxford in medical school. And along with Joe, they were the three Musketeers in the campus until Geillis dropped out. In the earlier days, she developed an interest in Alternative Healing after joining a movement against big pharmaceutical companies; hence, she left her medical studies and followed her boyfriend to Inverness to set up a health and herb shop.

Claire was staring at the phone in her hand when Jamie walked back in. He leaned on the doorway, smiling, his breadth blocking the light from the corridor. "Hey, Sassenach. Shall we start dinner?"

She smiled back. "Sure!" And she followed him to the kitchen taking his outreached hand.

..........

In the next half hour, Claire busied herself with dinner's preparation while Jamie chopped the shallots and washed the chanterelles. Still rattled from earlier, she carefully stirred their conversation onto something neutral and avoided eye contact, but working in such a small area, touching was unavoidable. A couple of times, he had to place his hands on her hips as he navigated narrow spaces, and his mere touch sent bolts of heat coursing through her body. But with his laid-back and relaxed manner, it wasn't long before they were back to bantering and joking. Once the chanterelles had been sauteed, and the rice and shallot simmering in broth and wine, she left him to continue cooking while she washed and changed.

Drying herself after a quick shower and shave, Claire was very conscious of Jaime in the other room. Just knowing that he was there under the same roof was enough to make her heart do somersaults. She could hear him moving about as the wooden floors creaked and the pots and pans banged. For a very big man, he looked right at home and comfortable working in the kitchen.

In her bedroom, she looked for something to wear but looking into her wardrobe, there wasn't really a lot of choices.   Well, it's only Jamie anyway, it's not like it's a date!

Well Beauchamp, ready for round 2? Ding! Ding!

Wot round 2? There will be no round 2.

So why did you shave your legs?

Rubbish! I always shave my legs.

Liar, liar, pants on fire!

Annoyed with herself, she decided to put on a pair of black leggings, an over-sized sweatshirt emblazoned, OXFORD and white woollen socks. She twisted her hair to the top of her head and fastened it with a hair clasp after giving up on taming her wayward curls. Looking into the mirror, she scrunched her nose and poked her tongue out. 

Ok, Beauchamp, let's do this! 

Do what? 

Get laid? 

Not gonna happen. 

But you want to. 

I do not! 

Liar, Liar, Pants on fire!

Sod off!

Satisfied with her reflection, she went to the kitchen.

When Claire walked in, Jaime was in the process of opening a bottle of Chablis. He gave her one of those heart-dropping smiles as he took in the sight of her. His eyes travelled up and down, lingering for a moment at her breast.   Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Can he tell I don't have a bra?   She quickly reached down to touch the hem of her sweatshirt to check its thickness. Taking it as an awkward moment, Jamie reached out and guided her to the table, placing a hand on the small of her back. The scent of her favourite food made her stomach growl ferociously. He must have heard her belly rumble. "Hungry Sassenach? he said with a grin.

She was pleasantly surprised to see that Jamie did make himself at home. There was nothing else for her to do: the table was set, the green salad dressed, her flowers haphazardly arranged in the vase and placed on a side table, and he even had a few of her scented candles burning. In the background, she could hear L-O-V-E song by Nat King Cole playing softly in the lounge. In spite of her nervousness, she couldn't help but smile. Maybe the hunger was getting the better of her.

"Very hungry, indeed!" she replied. Then cocking her head, she exclaimed, "Oh my God, Jaime, you have Uncle Lambs record player working! Sorry, I don't have any sound system set up yet. It's been a hectic during the last few days. There's still a lot of things I need to do with this house."

"Och, dinna fash Sassenach. I love old music and light jazz. We still have my grand parent's record player in our family home, and occasionally, we play some of my ma's collections for 'ol time sake. I hope you dinna mind me going through your uncle's records."

"No of course not, that's what it's there for. Maybe after dinner, we can go through some and listen to some old jig."

"That's grand, Sassenach!" He took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm.

Over the next couple of hours, Jamie and Claire got better acquainted over Rissotto and wine. As the evening progressed, Claire began to relax and enjoy herself as they exchanged stories about their families and life. She found Jamie charming, and like most Scots, he was born a storyteller. He spoke of his late parents and his sister in Lallybroch where he grew up, and in return, she reciprocated in kind and spoke of her travels to archaeological sites with Uncle Lamb and what she can remember of her parents.

After dinner, they moved to the lounge to listen to records. While Jamie lit up the log burner and prepared the whisky and tumblers, Claire fixed a tray of strawberries and cream and coffee. Claire couldn't help notice how at ease Jamie was - he looked like he's lived in Uncle Lamb's cottage forever. For the first time she arrived in Inverness, Claire felt at home, and she wondered if it had to do with Jamie.

..........

Three-quarters of the whisky bottle later, Jamie and Claire collapsed on the floor, spent from laughing so much, after attempting to dance the can-can to Sinatra's "New York, New York." Jamie was a terrible dancer, and Claire couldn't help but giggle her way through the routine. After a few more twirls and twists, they decided to call it a night. She didn't want the evening to end, but it was getting rather late. 

Claire got up from the floor and holding up an almost empty bottle in the air, she announced, before slumping on the sofa, "Ok, Jamie, last drink. I'm totally knackered."

Jamie followed suit, but instead of sitting beside her, he sat down on the coffee table facing her. He reached out and took her hands between his own. This time, there was no hint of seduction or suggestion of flirt. "Sassenach, thank ye so much for a lovely evening. I've never laughed so much in my life, but I will need a taxi, I canna drive back home in my state," he said with a slight slur.

"Rubbish, you can stay here, there's plenty of room. I won't have you driving after drinking so much, and you can have my bed, it's the biggest in the house. I'll take the guest room," Claire insisted. She tried to stand up but swayed a bit. As she regained her balance, she looked up at him and smiled. "And Jaime, I had a wonderful time too. Thank you." Claire got on her tip-toes and gave Jamie a kiss on the cheek before swaggering backwards. She giggled. "Ooops."

"Weel, if ye don't mind, then I don't mind either." Jamie slightly unsteady on his feet, caught Claire by the elbows and laughed.

Claire peered into the almost empty bottle of whisky and poured the rest in each of the tumblers. "Good! That's settled then. And no, I don't mind at all. Last drink?" she said, handing a glass to Jaime.

"Aye." And raising his glass, he made a toast. "Slange var Sassenach!"

Claire wobbling on her feet managed to raise her glass, laughing. "Cheers mate!"

After downing their whisky, Claire handed the glasses and empty bottles to Jamie. "Right, I'll go and get some fresh sheets, and you can bring these in the kitchen. Then off to bed."

"To bed or to sleep?" he asked mischievously with a glint in his eyes.

"Ha-ha,"

Claire hurried to the bedroom, slightly zig-zagging as she made her way. That last remark from Jamie made her conscious of him all over again.   Damn you, Jaime!   As she was getting some fresh linens from the cupboard, she heard a thump and glasses falli

"Jamie, are you alright?" She went quickly to the kitchen and found Jamie taking off his shirt stained with wine. On the floor were shards of glass and spilt leftover wine.

"Och sorry Sassenach, I'm not familiar with your house, and I forgot you had boxes laid there. I tripped over them."

Claire thinking he might be still shaky on his feet due to intoxication, pulled him away from the broken glasses. "It's alright, Jamie. Just stand back a little please." After cleaning up, she went over to him to see if he had a cut. "Let me see you hands Jamie."

"Dinna fash Sassenach, it's just a wee cut." He held up his thumb, and she saw there was a shard sticking out. She quickly went to her first aid kit drawer, to get a tweezer, iodine and some cotton. It was a small cut, but the shard had to be taken out. 

Holding Jaime's thumb to the light, she pulled the glass out from the cut, and fresh blood started to flow. Without thinking, as if it was the most natural thing to do, Claire put his thumb to her mouth to suck the blood.   Oh, sweet Mother Mary, what did I just do?    She only came to her senses when she felt Jaime drew a sharp intake of breath. She felt embarrassed. Feeling idiotic and foolish, Claire didn't dare look up to Jaime and slowly released his hand. Head bowed, she realised he had taken off his shirt after forgetting about it for a moment. As her eyes wandered to his naked torso, she noticed his hard washboard abs and the movement of his breathing. On the hollow of his navel, ran a trail of dark reddish-gold hair that disappeared into his jeans. The thought of running her finger on that trail made the insides of her legs quiver. The skin on her face and neck turned hot.   Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, what have I done, and what am I thinking?

"Sassenach, are you alright?" Jaime said softly as he lifted her chin to look him in the eye. What she saw in Jaime's eye was a concern, instead of his usual mischief. She can only nod, too aware of Jamie's naked torso "You dinna need to be scairt of me - I wouldna force me on you." He paused, taking her hand. "But I would verra much like to kiss you. Would you mind?"

Point of no return, she swallowed. "No Jaime, I wouldn't mind." She paused and then continued, her voice sounding raspy to her ears. "Please kiss me," Then she placed her cool hands on his hard abdomen. 

The moment, Claire touched him, he felt his body was on fire. He thought of the other women in his life in the past,   Louise, Geneva, Annalise, Laoghair e, and looking back, he realised how shallow they have been. The sex was always a welcome release, but beyond that, there was nothing. With Claire, everything came naturally; he was himself, he can laugh, and most of all, she was herself. He looked down at the woman before him but still found himself confused with what he was feeling. 

Jaime, staring into Claire's golden caramel eyes, slowly lowered his head, one hand behind her neck and the other on her waist, pulling her against him. Their lips met, just the lightest touch, but it was enough to send electricity sparks across every nerve ending. It was just a grazing of lips, but he was shaken to the core. He pulled away, his heart hammering, taking shallow breaths. He looked at Claire's beautiful face, her eyes were closed and her lips lightly parted.   Dhia!   Unable to contain himself, he pulled her back once more, this time into a more passionate and intense kiss. He gently thrust his tongue to the opening of her mouth, parting them to delve inside, teasing and probing until she made whimpering sounds. Her own kisses became hot and urgent, her arms snaking around his neck while her fingers ran through his hair, and this made him kiss her harder more. Standing on tiptoes, she pressed her body closer, crushing her breast against his hard chest, sending pleasures down his groin and making Jamie groan.

They pulled away for air, and Jamie searched Claire's face. "Sassenach, I want ye so much, I can scarcely breathe. Will ye have me?" His voice cracked.

He thought his heart would burst when she nodded. 

Feeling emboldened, Jamie then hoisted Claire on to the kitchen counter and clumsily pulled up her sweatshirt, releasing her hair from its clasp and revealing her white breasts. Her curly mass came tumbling down, and Jamie ran his hands through them, raining her neck with urgent kisses and nibbling her earlobes. "  Mo Nighean Donn,"   he whispered. Her legs automatically wrapped themselves around his waist, and she arched her back as an invitation, Jamie's Gaelic endearments making her wild. "Christ Claire, ye are so beautiful!" Jamie whispered in a ragged voice.

Claire moaned loudly as he lowered his head to suckle at each breast, paying homage to each erect nipple. Then his tongue started its frenzied exploration on her skin as his hands tugged at the waistband of her leggings. Once released from the constriction of clothing, Claire said in a husky voice, "Take off your pants, I want you now." 

Seeing Claire exposed on the kitchen counter with her legs apart, was enough to drive Jamie wild with lust. He quickly unbuckled his belt and lowered his jeans without taking his eyes off Claire. Relieved of his jeans, he gathered her into a crushing embrace, his hands fondling her round arse, pressing his hardness against her. Her hips started to rotate, wrapping her legs tighter. He reached down between her thighs, and the feel of her slippery wetness made him groan and grab her thighs even tighter. "Jamie, I want you inside me, please."

Hearing the plea, Jamie lifted her with ease, spreading her legs as he pinned her against the wall. Without a word, he plunged his cock into her wetness. Jamie silenced her cries with a hard kiss thrusting his tongue in the same rhythm as his cock. After a moment, breathing hard, he released her lips, biting and kissing her neck, his hands tightening their hold on her arse as he rammed into her, slamming Claire's back against the kitchen wall. She whispered "harder," and "deeper" as she bit him hard on the neck, which drove Jamie to the edge. He did as she asked and more. As Claire let out a loud cry, her body began to convulse, making his balls tighten. Finding his own abrupt rush of release, Jamie arched his back as he thrust one last time and let out a grunt. 

They held each other for a long while, not speaking, not moving. Eventually, Jamie carried Claire to her bed. She was limp in his arms. As he laid her down, he slipped in under the duvet with her and gathered her close to him. They fitted perfectly. And then he whispered softly,   tha gaol agam ort mo chridhe.

[padfootagain]

The King And You (VII)

Part 7: Farewell

Here comes a new chapter for my Caspian series! Our poor King is going through a lot… but he's building his team up and oh dear, what a team…

I hope you'll like this new chapter!

Word Count: 2504

You talked with Agatha for what felt like hours. Caspian disappeared in the distance, and you wanted to follow him, but the old woman stopped you. She argued that he had a lot to take in, that he needed time. You guessed she was right.

So, you walked back inside, and talked. She told you everything she knew about her mother's family: her sister and brothers dying when they were still so young, the stories they believed in. And for a reason she couldn't fully comprehend, Agatha believed in them as well.

And it sounded crazy. Utter madness. Bananas.

But no matter how many times you turned the story around and around in your head, you couldn't find any better explanation. Maybe you were being conned by a pair of very convincing criminals?

Then, why did your heart tell you it wasn't so?

Narnia. Aslan. Wars. A white witch. Winter. A stone table. Telmarines. Talking animals. A star. The Dawn Treader…

None of it made any sense.

With doubt still blurring your thoughts and questions twirling around your mind, you took a look at the time on your phone. Caspian had left more than an hour before. It was more than time to go looking for him. After all, God knew what kind of troubles the man could get himself into.

You gave your phone number to Agatha and told her to stay home, in case he would come back. Meanwhile, you would drive around the neighbourhood in his search.

You passed tall red trees, and pretty white houses of a too-perfect street. White fences were all that was missing to render a classic American neighbourhood. Above you, the sky was getting grey with clouds heavy with rain.

The distraction of your drive didn't make your mind quiet. But despite your doubts, and despite the fact that you couldn’t believe Caspian's and Agatha's tale, you couldn't find a way to believe that they had ill intentions either. So, maybe they were both crazy, nevertheless, you couldn’t just abandon Caspian like this. After all, he had been nothing but nice to you since he had stumbled into your life. It wasn't fair to simply abandon it, your conscience couldn't allow you to act like this.

Twenty minutes passed and you couldn't find him anywhere. You were starting to fear that something might have happened to him. He could have been attacked, or hit by a car, or kidnapped, or simply lost his way which, given his global appearance and attitude, was already a disaster…

You almost missed his form sitting on the grass, under a maple tree. You parked your car quickly and hurried towards him, but as you approached his motionless figure, you slowed down your pace. There was something quiet and still around him, a saddened aura that you felt reluctant to disrupt, so you approached cautiously, stopping a couple of steps away from him. You stood there for a moment, silent and as motionless as him, your eyes on his shoulders and the back of his head.

"Caspian?" you called in just a whisper.

But he didn't react at all.

"Are you okay?"

Again, your words were left unanswered.

So, you slowly closed the distance between the two of you to sit by his side. He didn't turn to look at you, didn't move at all to acknowledge that he had as far as noticed you were there. His gaze was set on a random point of the horizon, and you were sure that his eyes saw without looking. It was written all over his face that he had been crying for a long time.

You wanted to say something, but found yourself at a loss for words. You merely sat uncomfortably next to him instead, searching for things to say that seemed to fly out of reach every time you opened your mouth.

As you lacked words, you reached to hold his hand instead. His fingers were cold and calloused, but reassuring, for a reason you couldn't fathom. After a moment, he reciprocated your gesture.

And he was grateful that you didn't try to reassure him with empty words about feelings you couldn't understand. He didn't need someone to tell him that things would be alright, that they understood, that he wasn't alone…

Because things would not be alright. Because you didn't – couldn't – understand. Because he was alone…

Did that mean that he would give up? No, he couldn't. He was King, his people needed him to find a way back home. He would fight for them to his last breath, this was a vow he would never break. But for now, he didn't need a denial of the facts. He didn't need lies to be told in reassurance. He knew that he was going to face hard times, he knew that he had lost the help he thought he could get in this world decades before. He was lost and needed to find a way back.

But then, you were holding his hand now. You were sitting on the grass with him, skeleton leaves cracking under your weight as you shifted to sit cross-legged. And just like you couldn’t begin to fathom the kind of pain he was facing, he couldn't imagine how hard it was for you to believe him. Yet, you were still here. He believed that actions spoke better than words.

As he held your hand in his too, giving it a little squeeze, as to check if it were real, he reckoned that maybe, after all, he didn't have to be alone.

"Can you stay with me, for a little while?" he asked in a shaky breath.

You gave his hand a soft, reassuring squeeze.

"Of course."

And no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you couldn’t deny that his pain was real. No one could fake pain that well.

Could he?

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Eventually, you went back to Agatha's, and she offered Caspian and you to stay over for dinner, a simple, quiet meal that lifted Caspian's spirit a little. He was silent for most of the time, until you reached the dessert.

"I'd like to see them," Caspian broke a silence that had settled for a few minutes around the table. "Their… tombs, I mean. I'd like to go and see them."

"Well, my mother wanted her ashes to be spread in the ocean, and that's what we did," Agatha answered. "We don't have a tomb. The rest of her family is in England."

"Can we go there?"

"No, you can't," you shook your head. "I mean… you need a passport and everything to go there. And it's not like… getting a ride to New York, you have to take a plane."

"A plane? What is a plane?"

"A… mean of transportation. Nevermind," you brushed his remark away, taking a sip of water. This day had been way too crazy already for you to spend half-an-hour explaining him what a plane was, you just didn't have the strength.

"Is England very far?"

"Yes, it is."

"I see. And what about this… pass… part?"

"Passport. It's an official document that states your identity. You need one to get in and out of countries. And you'll need one to get in England. But if your whole fairy tale is true, then I guess you don't have one, do you?"

"I am afraid not."

"And you won't get one using official ways. I mean, you didn't exist before yesterday."

"And that will be a problem?"

"Yes, they want to know like… where you were born, proofs of who your parents are… and your parents aren't even of this world, are they?"

"No, no… they weren't. I see, that is a problem indeed."

"No, you can't leave the country. I'm sorry, but there's no solution."

"But I need to walk in the Pevensies' footsteps. Go where they found their own passages to Narnia. Maybe one of the doors is still open."

"You can't go to England."

"Actually… I might know someone who could help us get the documents we need," Agatha quietly said.

Both you and Caspian looked at her, but if the King stared at her with hope in his eyes, your gaze was filled with confusion.

"I… might know a man who can get us the papers. We… dated. A long, long time ago. But we kept in touch, and… well, he owes me."

"Who is he?" you asked.

"Roger. His name is Roger O'Malley, and… well… I might have helped him run away from the police a few decades ago."

"He's a criminal?!"

"Well, you said yourself that we couldn't use official channels for this, they will just ask a ton of questions that we cannot answer. Roger must know how to find a passport, I'm certain of it."

"That… is the craziest idea, ever. What did he do anyway, this Roger?"

"Oh, nothing violent. He worked for this… businessman in Chicago and then in New York."

"You mean… he's a mobster?"

"Oh, he's retired now!"

You looked at Agatha with wide eyes, before throwing your hands towards the ceiling in desperation, huffing, your voice turned high-pitched in your near-panic state.

"Oh, yes, of course! Pardon me! If he's retired now, then all is fine! We should definitely ask a retired mobster to get us fake IDs and passport for this gentleman here, who will answer, if asked about his profession, that he's a Duke in a magical land called Narnia! For proof, he walks around dressed up like in a musketeer! You're right, that is a brilliant idea. Actually, the only glitch we could get in this perfectly sensible plan is passing the security checks at the airport with his BLOODY SWORD!"

"Actually, I'm the King of Narnia, not a Duke," Caspian corrected you, which only made your panic worse.

"Oh, pardon me, Your Highness! Of course, he's a King! That'll solve all of our problems! Maybe, as he's royalty, they'll give him a hot towel and a tiny chocolate on his pillow when we're all rotting IN JAIL!"

"Now, now, calm down, child," Agatha replied with an annoyed voice.

"This is a terrible, terrible idea," you fought back, stated a fact that seemed so obvious to you. "Don't call me to bail you and D'Artagnan here out of jail once you get there, huh?"

"Well, do you have any better plan? A single idea, even?"

And you had to admit that you had none.

You and Caspian exchanged a look. He didn't understand the whole issue, but he did get that what Agatha was offering was going against the law. However, he didn't have much choice.

"Agatha, if we contact your friend, can you promise me that no harm will come to anyone out of our actions?"

"Of course!"

"Then, I have to take the risk. Even if the way you describe, as I understand it, seems to go against some of your laws. Going to England might be my only chance. However, considering the risks you might be facing, I will travel on my own and undergo the purchase of this… passport on my own."

"I can go with you," Agatha shook her head, and her tone was final. "In fact, do you have a place to stay here?"

"He slept at my place yesterday," you answered.

"Well, then, you can stay here for as long as you need. After all, my family considered you one of their own."

Caspian gave her a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Agatha. For everything. But I don't want you to get into trouble on my behalf…"

"Nonsense! It's gonna be a lot of fun! Dear, I haven't had so much excitement in my life in a long while. And don't you worry, my dear, I'm sure we'll find a way to bring you home."

"How do we contact this… Roger?" you interrupted, bringing back the conversation towards practical issues.

"I'll call him! I have his number. You were of great help, but I will take care of Caspian now. You don't have to worry about him anymore. Nor getting into jail."

Caspian reached across the table to take your hand in his in a gentle, warm hold.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me. I don't want to be a weight…"

"Don't mention it," you mumbled, uncomfortable. "Anyone would have done the same."

Caspian gave you a warm smile.

"No, I don't reckon that's true."

"Will you be okay?"

"Yes. I think I will. Agatha will help me, you need not worry about me anymore."

You huffed again.

"You're a lot of trouble though. I think I'll keep on worrying about you for a while."

You exchanged a soft smile.

"Well, I guess… Agatha has my phone number, so if you need anything, you can call me," you offered.

"Call?"

You chuckled and showed him your phone.

"You can use that to talk to someone who's away."

"Your society is most impressive. Even if our magic is different, yours is just as strong the magic ."

"It's not magic, it's science," you replied.

"But isn't magic only science that we can't yet understand?" Agatha replied with a mischievous look, and the two of you laughed.

"I guess that's true."

You helped to clean the dishes, helped Caspian to settle down too. But then you were standing before the threshold, ready to leave without him, and you had to admit that it felt strange to part with him. If you were being honest with yourself, you even felt sad. Despite how crazy this whole ordeal was - and that you still didn't believe in his whole backstory - as you looked at him standing there, before you, giving you a warm smile while his dark eyes were tainted with pain, you knew that you would miss him.

"Good luck, then. And… call me if you need help. Otherwise, I… guess it's a…"

But your voice broke before you could say the word, and when you tried again, nothing came out but silence.

Caspian took your hand and brought it to his lips in a soft, slow movement, hesitant. As if he wasn't sure you'd let him go through with it, as if he wasn't sure it was adequate, but it felt right to do so, so he did it anyway. His lips lingered on the back of your hand for a few seconds too long, by Narnian standards of politeness, but you wouldn't have known anyway. You told yourself it was just one more eccentricity. Nothing more, despite the jolt of electricity that ran up your spine then.

He gave you one last tender smile.

"Farewell, Y/N."

You nodded, unable to understand the tears in your eyes, but you freed your hand and turned to walk to your car anyway.

You didn't look back as you drove off the street. You kept on repeating to yourself that at least, now, your life could go back to normal.

And that was a good thing, right?

 ****************************************

Tag list : @ponycake27​ @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx​ @jbluevelvet​ @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss​ @stuckupstucky​ @snek-shit​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @i-padfootblack-things​  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi​@jigsawlover10​ @emyyjemyy​​ @addictedtofictionalcharacters​ @staringmoony​@geeksareunique @giggleberts @sad-orange-thoughts @aylinnmaslow  @benbarnes-world @ladyblablabla @drinix @joelynnp @wearetalkingtoyou @mxrihollxnd @rockintensse @cutie-bug @purplocity  @rockintensse​ @newtstarmander​ @shinebrightlikeafanbase​ @millionsleeplessnights @goldenor5 @raquelbc2003  @carolinesbookworld​ @roses-in-your-country-house @mcrmarvelloki​ @marvelcapsicle​