#or should I say Musketeer's Kiss?

[darsynia]

Yes, I made Tony Stark in Diablo IV...

...and no, I'm not sorry!

[reminiscingtonight]

Pretending

Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

Word Count: 955

A/N: Had to celebrate Fletcher's new album with a new fic

Part Two

[WOSO Masterlist]

“I think I should kiss you.”

You laugh, pulling the older girl closer to you. “Well I’m not stopping you.”

Aitana simply snorts in response, burying her face in your neck. You pretend it doesn’t tickle when she breathes out deeply, arms tightening around your waist. “How’s your mami?”

“I think you see her more than I do, Tana.”

It’s been three years but the longing from moving away from home still hasn’t faded. Barcelona’s always been the goal. Ever since you could remember. A product from La Masia, you knew you always wanted to play for the first team.

Sometimes the things you want aren’t always in the cards, hence the detour in your career to Manchester. Ona went to United but you went to City, both of you wanting to develop your football skills some more in a new city. Although your best friend has already returned back to Barcelona, you still have a little more to go before you could go back. 

“Shh,” Aitana giggles, clumsily raising a finger to press against your lips. 

It makes you feel warm, seeing how laidback and relaxed the midfielder seems right now. With all of the pressure she experiences on the daily, it’s rare to see the older girl as bubbly as she is now. After winning the Ballon d’Or, her own expectations have only increased tenfold. 

“Gotta go pee,” she mumbles, finally pushing off of you. You make the move to follow but Aitana presses a hand against your chest, stopping you in your tracks. “No, get me another drink please.” 

You have an amused smile playing on your lips as she makes her leave, dragging some of the other girls with her. 

Ona watches you watch Aitana, sighing under her breath. 

You try to ignore her, but Ona’s never one to mince her words. “I don’t get it.”

You shrug. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

It’s always been the three of you, the trio of musketeers taking on Spain’s youth teams and now the senior one together. You’ve grown up together, experienced all the good and bad by each other’s sides. 

So safe to say Ona’s been here through the years to see how much you’ve fallen for Aitana. 

And just as much as you’ve fallen for Aitana, the older girl seems to be just as allergic to admitting her feelings. 

It’s obvious to just about everyone how much Aitana loves you. It’s in all the small things. The way she makes sure to tune in all of your matches. The way she sends you thoughtless musings every day. The way she always remembers your coffee order whenever you return to town.

But Aitana’s never been one to commit to anything other than football. 

You’ve always known this, so you haven’t done too much to try to convince her otherwise. No matter how much Ona’s always bugging the two of you to make things official or for you to move on, you’ve stayed steadfast in your belief that things will work out in the end. 

At the end of the day no one’s getting hurt but yourself. You’d be willing to wait for as long as it takes if it means it’ll be the two of you at the end. Because you know that’s the only outcome in this drawn out affair. 

You love Aitana and Aitana loves you, so there’s really no other ending to this. So if Aitana wants to pretend like the two of you don’t love each other, you’re willing to play her game. 

“How long are you going to do this?”

“As long as she lets me.”

Ona looks like she’s going to blow an aneurysm but follows you to the counter regardless. Despite your silent pleas for her to drop the topic, she doesn’t. “This is going to wreck you when it blows up in your face.”

“Then I won’t let it blow up.” 

Ona swipes the drinks away from your hands before you can grab them. “Listen to me. I love you and I love Aita but the two of you really need to figure this out. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Sighing, you press a soft kiss against the side of her head. No matter how annoying you find Ona’s constant pestering, you know it’s only coming from a place of love. “Thanks Oni. But I will be okay. Please don’t lose any sleep over this.”

Ona looks like she wants to say more, but she bites her tongue.

Instead, the two of you catch up. You’re happy that Ona’s settling in well in Barcelona, but the downside to her going home is that the two of you no longer get to share every moment together. Ona’s laughing at your reenactment of Leila having to deal with the spider in your shared home when Aitana finally returns.

Her eyes light up when she spots you from across the room, hurriedly waving at you. 

You have to muffle your laughter at her drunken state but smile back to her all the same.

You don’t let it show, but Ona’s words cut deep. 

It’s heavy on your heart when you drop her off later, when Ona has to peel Aitana off of you, promising to get the two of them to bed safely. Her words are still ringing around your head when you get a drunken rambling goodnight text from Aitana when you’re getting ready to catch the redeye home.

You’ve been waiting for Aitana for as long as you remember, and you’ll continue waiting for her until she’s ready. 

Aitana’s everything to you.

So if she wants to keep on pretending, that’s exactly what you’ll do.

Even if it cuts you to the bone.

[harringtons-cupid]

babes…. could you pls write a robin x nancy x reader fic 🫣

maybe they’re having a little slumber party or something and someone says something abt never having been with a girl and the rest is history…

Sorry this took me so long to write 🫣, I hope you like it 😏💓

Warnings: 18+

SMUT!! - face riding, nipple sucking, threesome, pussy grinding, scissoring, cunnilingus, touching, dirty talk, vibrator use, female masturbation, clit spanking.

Fluff- Film watching, hand holding. Sleepover themes.

After leaving school, the girls disappeared to assemble their stuff for your slumber party that evening. It was a relatively common occurrence, you enjoyed spending time with them out of school.

You were all quite close, people called you the 3 musketeers since you were always together.

The doorbell rang as you were applying the finishing touches to your appearance, you would never tell them but you had the biggest crush on them both.

You had shared drunken kisses with them but never experienced anything more.

They walked into your house as you had just placed together their mattress on the floor. Throwing their things by your desk, they collapsed onto the bed next to you.

Robin brought out a selection of films from her bag, Nancy was clutching onto some snacks with a smile. After a long debate on what film to watch, you decided on Desert Hearts a 1985 lesbian movie.

It was their mission to introduce you to more lesbian films. Robin excitedly placed it into the VHS and with you in the middle, the film had you hooked.

As the film progressed, your clit began pulsating at the romantic sex scene that appeared on screen. You began squirming in your seat, Robin looks at Nancy who nods and edges closer to you on the bed, her hand touching your thigh as her other hand stroked your face.

Her lips hover over yours before kissing you softly, her lips slowly begin to move with yours.

Your nerves calm down as her hand slides further up your thigh, Nancy moves closer to Robin and pulls her off you. Kissing her roughly as you watch, getting turned on by their passion.

Nancy moves next to you, her hand touched Robin’s on your thigh. Together they edge closer to your waist, Nancy slipping her hand under your trousers first. Making you gasp as her cool hands graze your cunt, sliding down until her finger circles your clit.

Robins lips are back on yours alternating with Nancy as they both desperately want a piece of you. Nancy’s hand rubs between your folds, feeling you grow wetter and wetter.

“Have any toys we can play with, little one?” Nancy pauses, looking at you mischievously.

The film was still playing in the background as your shakily looked towards your bedside table. Nancy smirked and reached over, fumbling around inside until she found your vibrator.

Testing it a little in her hand, she pushed you hard onto the bed. Robin straddled you, holding you hard as she ripped down your trousers. Exposing your wet cunt, your hips bucked against her thigh.

“Not yet little one” She commanded, prodding her finger into your chest.

Your bra was firmly on your chest as Nancy moved the vibrator up your thighs until it reached your clit, you gasped loudly.

Robin clutched onto your arms above your head as she kissed your tits, Nancy rubbed the vibrator between your wet folds. Letting go of your hands slightly to unclip your bra, your tits bounced out in front of her face.

Her tongue circled your nipples making you shiver, slowly beginning to suck on them. Your gasps turning into moans, Nancy removed the vibrator for a second making you whine.

“More pls” you sounded pathetic as Robin sucked roughly onto your nipples.

“No baby, I think we should Robin fuck you with her cunt. Would you like that?” Nancy soothed your whining with a kiss.

Robin looked at Nancy in slight surprise but climbed off you and kissing Nancy who removed her underwear. Sliding her hand down to touch her dripping cunt, you lay on the bed watching them together.

When you think they aren’t looking, you move your hand down to touch your clit. Groaning as your hips buck against the bed, the sounds of both girls kissing makes you wetter.

Nancy snapped out of the kiss, pushing Robin aside as she noticed that you were spanking your clit desperately.

“Oh I see someone likes us kissing Rob” she sneered at you, pulling Robin in for another kiss and sliding her hand between her thighs.

You whimpered and spanked your clit harder as you continued watching. Robin pulled herself away from Nancy’s grasp and straddled you.

Moving your hand away from your throbbing clit, the sensation of another girls wet cunt on top of yours was intense. As she began to grind on top of you, you nervously placed your hands on her cheeks and helped her move.

She lifted up your head so that you were forced to look at her, moaning softly as you moved her faster and faster on top of you.

Nancy sat on the top of the bed, leaning closer to Robin and whispered something in her ear. They both nodded and you watched as Nancy stripped in front of you, your eyes widening at the sight.

“I’m going to fuck myself on your face, would you like that little one?” She whispered, kissing your ear softly. You nodded between moans.

Gasping as she slowly climbed between your face, her cunt was wet as she began to ride on your tongue. Her moans rippled across her body.

Your eyes closed tightly as you edged closer and closer to your orgasm, Robin and Nancy leant forward until their lips met.

Kissing passionately as they rode you, both of their wet cunts growing wetter by the second. Their moans were something you had never heard before, your legs shook quickly as Robin pounded her clit hard against yours.

You felt Nancy’s clit twitch on your tongue as she aggressively rode your face, her moans turning into pants. Sucking onto Robin’s tongue, Nancy was wetter than you had expected.

“Fuck little one, you’re going to make me cum” she whined loudly into Robin’s mouth.

“Cum for us baby” Robin moaned, slowly down her own speed against your clit.

You moaned onto her clit, sending vibrations which made Nancy’s body shake. Her eyes rolling back as you felt her cum, taking it all into her mouth.

She climbed off slightly and shook her dripping cunt over your face, making sure every bit of cum covered your face.

Collapsing onto the bed, she kissed Robin before bringing her lips to yours and kissing you roughly. Squeezing your nipples tightly as she nodded to Robin who continued to move on you.

Panting as your hips thrusted against her wet cunt, your legs were tired as she began to shake on you.

“Will you cum with me little one?” She panted, there was desperation in her eyes.

“Uh huh” you gasped, you were close as your clit throbbed on top of her.

She gripped hard onto your sides, digging her fingernails into your skin as you both edged closer to your orgasm. Her eyes burning into yours, biting your lip hard.

Robin looked hot as she humped her tired wet cunt on yours.

“Oh fuck, I’m going to cum” she moaned loudly, twitching hard as you felt her cum hard.

Your own body shaking as you came with her, still thrusting each others cum together until you were both overstimulated. Your lips and neck were sore and red from Nancy.

She fell heavily onto yours and kissed you soft, smiling as your sweaty bodies met. Your clits still twitching from relief.

“That was so fun” you smiled, still catching your breath with Robin on top of you.

“Maybe we should rewatch that film” Robin joked, winking at you both as her body glistened like you all with sweat.

[writingwarden]

HESH REQUEST!!!

him helping you clean out your attic and you find a bunch of your childhood stuff :( (including your old diary, which is FILLED with pages you wrote about him)

Anon, you're a genius

David "Hesh" Walker x Reader

TW- None, just fluff, love confessions, kissing, minute emotional angst

Word Count- 2.1k

Summary- Feelings dug up by written words

[A/N- Typed this out in one sitting! Tried to keep it GN.]

Call Sign- BADGER

There was only one good thing about being sent into No Man's Land, and that was the fact you were able to make a stop at your old house. Memories rush at you as you cross what used to be the threshold. The house was smaller than those around it, a nice looking one story building with a huge backyard. As an only child your parents felt they didn’t need so much empty space. Dust covers every surface you look at, the wildlife has taken over every inch it could reach. The air was thick as you moved further into the house, Riley at your heels and his handler not far behind.

Hesh’s and Logan’s footsteps echo loudly against the crumbling walls of your once pristine home. Your mother had taken pride in how orderly she had kept things. She always had somebody over for whatever reasons. That was actually how you had come to know the Walker boys. You mom and dad had been close friends of Elias Walker, your dad having served with the man. One day she had them over for lunch, the next thing you know you’re skating with Hesh and teaching Logan how to pick locks. You three had become the three musketeers. If one of you had an idea, then all of you had a plan.

Stopping in the middle of the kitchen to take in the feelings that come with returning to a place you used to hold dear, a long sigh leaves your chest. “It’s weird being back here after everything,” you say to the men behind you, “We have a minute to look around, feel free to dredge up old memories.” 

Slinging your rifle over your shoulder, you start looking through the cabinets. You weren’t looking for anything specific but it was somewhat comforting to see that most of the dishware had survived. You could hear comments from Hesh from further in the house. Moving through the house made you almost want to tear up, it was a lot to process in the short amount of time you had. Down the hallway was Riley.

The dog stood in front of your old bedroom door, behind him the ladder that led to the attic had been pulled down. “Which one of you’s up there?” you called out from the floor. Hesh’s head pops out, looking down at you with a grin on his face. You shoot him a questioning glance.

“Badger, the fort is still standing!” He elaborates excitedly. The fort in question was exactly as it sounds; a hangout spot built from storage tubs and old blankets that hadn’t been used since your parents lived up north. A smile creeps onto your face when a memory hits you. 

“Well shit, I told you it would survive to the end of the world.” You had built the place after all, and your creations don’t fall apart easily. “You know, there should be a box of those books in there somewhere. I remember a copy of World War Z being in there somewhere. See if you can find them?” you suggest. 

He moves his head around in an indecisive way before nodding, “Yeah I'll try to find it.” He disappears back into the attic for a second before reappearing, “Oh yeah, I found some stuff from when you were younger. I’ll bring some down for you to look through.” And with that he’s gone again. 

A huff from Riley has you looking down and shaking your head fondly at the dog. Riley pawed at the closed door again. Looking up you stare at the plain white door that leads to your old bedroom, why were you hesitating?

Slowly you reach your hand out, resting it on the cool brass doorknob. Just open the door. Placing your forehead against the door and taking a deep breath, You don’t have time to move this slow. What is wrong? A quick push and the door squeals open, hinges rusted from years of no use and nature's wrath.

The room looks just how you left it, your favorite color painted on the walls and your bed still unmade. If it weren’t for the dust and fallen debris from where a part of the ceiling fell in, the room looks as if you had just stepped out for a moment. Clothes still strewn around from your searching and desk still in disarray from writing in your diary before you left. That’s how you knew you were desperate to leave, you never left that book in the open. But you had been so worried about getting over to Hesh’s place that you had left it open. You don’t know why you hadn’t put it up, the Walker household was only a three block walk from your own. You would have made it in time.

You had been a block away from the boy’s house when the ground exploded, sending you into the grass. Your skateboard still clutched tightly under your arm, your blue  drawstring bookbag cushioning your fall. In your panicked state you tried to rush home, the sifting road preventing you from reaching your destination. Your only saving grace had been Hesh’s dad, Mr. Elias Walker in his screeching to a  halt in front of you. He flung the passenger side door open and you scrambled in. After that, he found the boys and the rest is history.

Entering the room further you pick up random items, quickly and silently going through the items. A few small items are stashed into your backpack, two of which being a family photo and your childhood keepsake. The thought passed to go into your parents room but you knew that would only bring sobbing and you couldn’t afford that right now. If you were lucky there would be a later time to properly mourn for them again. Turning around, you face the messy desk. As you approach you take in the messy state of it, shaking your head at the lack of organization.

A thump from the kitchen. Stepping out into the hallway you see Logan picking up a dining chair. “You okay Lo?” you call from where you stand. He looks up and smiles before holding a thumbs up in your direction. Shaking your head at the younger man, you re-enter the room, heading straight back to the desk. That diary that held every thought that crossed your past thoughts. Every single one dated and time stamped in a 24 hour clock format. Your dad had been adamant that you used the “military” time, citing that you would never be confused between 5:00 AM and 5:00 PM. He had been right, you had never confused 05:00 with 17:00. 

Picking up the book you can’t help but feel like you were in mourning. Flipping through the pages reveals a time where what you were wearing to go out and the latest thing Hesh had done to make you feel butterflies in your stomach were the biggest problems in your life; not worrying about a bullet through your skull or a knife to the gut. Those feelings were still there like a raging storm. And it was honestly no surprise that you had come to be absolutely smitten with the man in the room above you. Everyone could see that even now you were in love with Hesh. Everyone but him; flipping back to the last page that had been written, your heart breaks a little more.

The date on the top of the page read 10:49, July 10th, 2017. The day ODIN had fired on Earth and uprooted the entire world's life. Eyes scanning the page as memories from that day screech to a halt in the forefront of your mind. You and Hesh were supposed to go downtown to skate and meet up with a few friends for dinner. Past you lamented onto the page about your outfit and that your hair wasn’t working with you. In between complaining about your outfit or excitedly talking about your plans for later that day, was your feelings of nervousness. You remember vividly searching frantically through your wardrobe and failing to find that one shirt Hesh had said he liked on you. That day was supposed to be special. Skating, dinner with your crush, a confession that you had hoped wouldn’t go wrong; instead you got a burnt breakfast and a crater in the middle of the city.

Footsteps echo from the attic as Hesh calls for you, “Badger! I got a box of things, could use some help getting it down.” 

You finish putting the diary and any working stationary into your pack before moving to the bottom of the ladder again. Hesh wastes no time handing you a medium sized plastic tub. Taking the box into your arms you're surprised about how heavy it is. He must have found a lot. Hesh makes his way down as you walk back into the bedroom.

The box is set on the unmade bed and the lid is removed from the box to reveal several more items from your childhood. Most of them had been completely forgotten. Further into the box were books from the fort. But the item that had you pausing was the brightly colored notebook that once served as your diary. Flipping to the cover page revealed your name and a messy all capitalized KEEP OUT OR ELSE in blue sharpie. 

Hesh steps up to your left side, a shit-eating grin sprawled across his face. “Prime literature right there, Badger.” He says teasingly. Heat rushes to your face, you feel that if you turned and looked at the mirror on the back of your bedroom door you’d probably see your entire face looked as if you slammed it into a bucket of blush. 

You begin to stammer out an explanation when Hesh takes the book from your hands. He flips to a certain page and clears his throat. “I’ll have to say, this one’s probably my favorite,” His eyes sparkled as he read the words out loud, “I can’t believe that I’m in love with this stupid, handsome, green-eyed dumbass. Somebody please sedate me before I explode the next time he shoots me that stupid ass smile. With three green hearts drawn after it.” 

You could’ve passed away on the spot, embarrassment zipping through your very soul as he flips through the pages. Avoiding his eyes you look anywhere but him, afraid of the rejection you’d find there. He was going to laugh at you and that would hurt more than a straight up “No.” would have. Why of all things did he have to find that! You pick at your hands as you look back at him, preparing yourself for the worst.

But you don’t find laughing or a sneer at your words, you just see him studying your being. Instead you find joy in his eyes and that stupid comforting smile. “I- I can explain-” you begin but don’t get to finish. You don’t get to finish what was sure to be a jumbled ramble because Hesh is surging forward, his lips pressed to yours. His hands pull you close by your vest straps to deepen the kiss. The shock leaves just as quick as it came and you're wrapping your arms around his neck.

Eventually you both need to come up for air, the realization of what is happening dawning slowly on you. 

“That was-”

“I-” 

You both began at the same time. You clear your throat, “You first?” 

Hesh shifts on his feet, looking rather pleased with himself. “I was going to stop reading it, I swear!” He puts his hands up in a defensive way, “But then I saw my name and I got invested in this little plot of yours.” 

Sheepishly you raise your hand to rub the back of your head, “Yeah, well I had a lot to write about…” You let your sentence trail off, unsure of what to say next. But you figure you might as well tell him. “I feel like this is the part where I tell you I had planned to tell you after we were supposed to go downtown and meet up with our friends.” You laugh quietly and gesture to the dusty clothes strewn around the room, “I was even trying to find that one shirt that you told me you liked.” A pause of silence passes before he speaks up. 

“But then ODIN happened… Well shit, Badger.” He also looked at a loss for words. A rare sight. “Well, no time like now, huh?” 

You thought for a minute before leaning back in and kissing him again. “Yeah, no time like now I suppose.” 

[Not Pictured- Logan and Riley standing in the doorway baffled.]

[A/N- Took a little inspiration from my own younger self's journal! Hope I did this Justice! Likes and Re-blogs are always welcomed]

[beaft]

october 13th

happy friday the thirteenth, everyone! and to celebrate, here's that poem you probably read at school that one time! today's spooky poem is "the highwayman", a delightfully melodramatic ballad by alfred noyes. there's an analysis of it here and a sung version by loreena mckennit here. and once you've listened to that you can watch this, if you're so inclined.

THE HIGHWAYMAN

Part I

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.  The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.  the road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,    And the highwayman came riding— Riding—riding— The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin, A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin. They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh.    And he rode with a jewelled twinkle, His pistol butts a-twinkle, His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard. He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred. He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there    But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord’s daughter, Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked.    His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,    But he loved the landlord’s daughter, The landlord’s red-lipped daughter. Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—

“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night, But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light; Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,    Then look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”

He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand, But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast; And he kissed its waves in the moonlight, (O, sweet black waves in the moonlight!) Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

Part II He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon; And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon, When the road was a gipsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor, A red-coat troop came marching Marching—marching— King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door. They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead, But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed; Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side! There was death at every window; And hell at one dark window; For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride. They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest; They bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast! "Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say Look for me by moonlight; Watch for me by moonlight; I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way! She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good! She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood! They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years, Till, now, on the stroke of midnight, Cold, on the stroke of midnight, The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest! Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast, She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again; For the road lay bare in the moonlight; Blank and bare in the moonlight; And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain. Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear; Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear? Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill, The highwayman came riding, Riding, riding! The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up strait and still! Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night! Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light! Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath, Then her finger moved in the moonlight, Her musket shattered the moonlight, Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him - with her death. He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood! Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear How Bess, the landlord's daughter, The landlord's black-eyed daughter, Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there. Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky, With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high! Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat, When they shot him down on the highway, Down like a dog on the highway, And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, A highwayman comes riding Riding—riding— A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door. Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard, And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred; He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter, Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

—Alfred Noyes

[bullet-prooflove]

Old Wives' Tale: Athos x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @incorrect-mcdanno fandomhype sherberrt @sekretwindow sweetpeaswife keyweegirlie anele-anomis caffeinatedwoman thebejeweledwatercat jessevans swanfan17 burningpeachpuppy lit-swallow 

Athos had always hated mornings. It was when the darkness was always at its worst. It had clawed at his insides, scratching it’s way into his mind.

Every day it was the same, the agony, the self-loathing, the grief. His world was tapered with misery, his steps stalked by the black dog. It had been that way for five years, he’d imagined it’ll be for five more.

Now though, now his life is different. He wakes up in soft sheets with the sunlight kissing his skin through the open window. The scent of lavender in his nose because you always dab the oil onto his pillowcase to ward away the nightmares that plague him.

He’d been sitting in the chair in your surgery, grinding his teeth as you cleaned the musket wound in his shoulder, when you had first suggested it.

“You’ve not been sleeping.” You’d murmured, cupping his chin to study the dark circles under his eyes.

Part of him had wanted to pull away but the other hadn’t. It had been the first time a woman had touched him in years, that she’d looked at him with tenderness. He thinks that’s the moment he falls in love with you because he found himself lost in the hues of your eyes, wondering if God plucked the stars right out of the sky and given them to you himself.

“I have nightmares.” He’d found himself saying as your thumb trailed along the line of his jaw.

“Lavender oil.” You said softly as you draw away. “It’ll help.”

“An old wives tale.” He had told you dismissively because the spell  was broken once you’d pulled away. He betrays himself when he’s with you, he tells you things that he would never admit to anyone else including his brothers in the musketeers.

You’d laugh at his comment and he’d felt a flush begin to creep up his cheeks because he’d forgotten that you were a war widow, that by society’s standards you should be remarried with a several children.

That’s not the path you’d chosen and he’d been grateful for it. You’d saved more of his men than he can count in your tenure as the garrison’s ‘doctor’. You can’t hold the official title but your skill set is second to none. Your husband had been a field surgeon during the war and you had followed him to the front with many of the other soldier’s wives. He’d believed in women’s education, teaching you his trade in the quiet moments, putting you to work in the more chaotic ones. Athos doesn’t have to imagine what you’ve seen, he’s lived it.

When your husband had died and the war was over you’d returned to Paris and set up your own establishment.

A woman doesn’t have the stomach for that kind of work many had scoffed. You’d proven them wrong time in the aftermath of the carriage accident, taking control of the situation, tending to the wounded. Now they come to you for their injuries and your compassion. You have a soothing nature, you’re both kind and pragmatic.

The war, your husband’s death, it could have broken you but it didn’t, he thinks what he really sees in you is hope. Hope for the days where he isn’t a ruined, broken down soldier, hope that tomorrow will be the day he wakes up and he doesn’t feel the agony of his history choking him.

“Maybe you should listen to this old wife.” You had teased him, wringing out the warm cloth in the small porcelain basin. He watches his blood intermingle with the water turning it pink and he wonders if maybe he should.

“You know I could have patched up your shoulder.” Aramis had remarked afterwards when the two of them were leaving. “Of course, my bed side manner isn’t anywhere near as charming as Juliette’s and I’m not quite as pretty.”

Athos had scowled at the comment instead tugging his hat down over his features to hide the warmth that flooded his cheeks.

A week later he returns to your surgery. You’re restocking some of your supplies, writing their numbers in an inventory that’s laid out across your desk. It’s lined with textbooks on anatomy, plant properties and oddly a small leatherbound book of sonnets.  

“The lavender oil.” He says gruffly as he removes his coin purpose from his belt. “I was thinking maybe I should try it after all.”

“Put that away.” You say gesturing to his purse before you select a small bottle with a dropper from the shelf. He refuses, taking out several coins and leaving them in a neat stack upon your desk.

You sigh as you press the bottle into the palm of his hand. The brush of your fingertips ignites something in him, something powerful and torrid and it takes everything in not to capture your hand when you pull away.

“One or two drops on your pillow case before you sleep.” You tell him and he nods his understanding before he tucks it into his pocket.

That night he forgoes the wine and instead dabs his pillow case with the oil. The aroma fills his senses as he begins to slip away and he thinks of you in his twilight moments, the press of your skin against his, the loveliness of your eyes.

He’s drawn from his thoughts by your stirring. You bury your face into his hair as your fingers comb through it and he moans against the hollow of your throat because when you tug his curls just a little…

It’s enough to a make a man see God.

“You are misbehaving.” You murmur as his calloused his hands begin to wander, palms caressing your bare skin, hips arching against yours.

“You bring out the devil in me.” He whispers, his lips seeking out that sensitive spot just underneath your ear and you make that noise for him, that sweet deviant little sound that he never gets tired of hearing.

“Athos…” You breathe and he smiles because he will never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.

Waking up with you is a gift, one that he treasures every single day.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[lemonflavoreddishsoap]

May I please for headcanons for la squadra with a gn s/o who usually watches their movies and shows in headphones and alone, but it turns out they just watch Barbie. Th reason is that they don't the boys to be embarrassed by them

This request made me laugh when I first read it- has anyone drawn La Squadra asking for tickets to the barbie movie yet? Cuz they should.

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

La Squadra with an S/O who secretly watches Barbie

Everytime he asks what you're watching on your laptop, you shut it and won't tell him...suspicious...

Formaggio

Debates peeking at what's on your laptop when you're not around. Of course, he never would, and he has faith that you're doing nothing wrong, but the curiosity bites at him every time it happens.

So, using Little Feet, he sets out to get to the bottom of this. You don't even notice your itty bitty partner climb up onto your shoulder until well after you've gotten comfy and started the movie again. You only take a quick look around to make sure no one's peeking at you before you slip on your headphones and start the video.

Suddenly, you feel something brush you, and then a tap on your shoulder. You frantically shut the computer and shove off your headphones before you're face to face with Formaggio. He's...smiling.

"Barbie and the Three Musketeers, huh? 'ts a good one," he chuckles, giving you a kiss on the head to ease your shocked expression and walking off. He knew it, you weren't up to anything weird, so he ain't gonna make a bit deal out of it.

Illuso

Your worries are well founded, but he won't be oblivious for long. From the second you're looking so secretive about your business, he's raising an eyebrow. But the moment you're deliberately avoiding being near any mirrors?

He just waltzes right up to you and goes "What're you looking at?" If you start shutting your device, he keeps it open. Skimming the title, and seeing the content, he bursts into laughter.

"'A Fashion Fairytale'?? You're hiding a kids movie from me?" He chuckles at the absurdity for a while longer before insisting he watches it with you.

When it comes to any Barbie things you watch after that, it's best to only let Illuso watch with you if you're willing to sit through an hour of snarky remarks and loud laughter.

Prosciutto

How would you manage to hide it from this man? You may be his s/o, but Prosciutto is still ruthless and intimidating, and when you're hiding things from him, he sees no reason to hold his suspicions to himself.

Dude, listen, if you were curled up, watching fucking Princess Charm School and this man is standing over you asking What You Are Doing, how can you imagine a world where you wouldn't tell him?

He gives you a look when you show what you're watching, and, as you'd expect, he doesn't give much of a shit about it, and it doesn't matter to him if you watch it. Just questions why you felt the need to treat it like a big deal.

As you explain that you didn't want to embarrass him, he puts a hand on your cheek and assures you that as long as you don't force him to watch with you your interests would have no effect on his image or pride. He really is rather touched that you wanted to take that precaution, but hiding things from your partner is not the way to go about it!

Pesci

You would have been more open about it, but you've seen what Prosciutto says to Pesci, so you worry that he would feel bad looking at something so...childish.

So you keep your interest to yourself. Pesci doesn't mind you keeping to yourself, but seeing you all cooped up watching something leaves him curious. He wants to know what you're doing but...ohhh would it be his place to be nosy?

Eventually he bites the bullet, carefully approaching you during your Secret Time, tapping you on the shoulder, and asking what you're up to. Oh, when he's asking so politely you can't even care about your worries. you shyly show him A Mermaid Tale playing on the screen and his reaction is...intrigue.

He lets you know he's never seen the movie and asks to watch it with you, and how could you ever say no? Even if it's not exactly his sort of thing, he just likes to spend time with you. After your impromptu movie date, you're sure to not feel shy about watching Barbie around him anymore.

Melone

Here's the thing about your partner. Melone, with how good he is at reading others, is really hard for others to read a lot. So as you sit there trying to focus on A Fairy Secret you keep looking over at the busy man on the other side of the room, clacking away on his own device - you aren't sure whether you should be cautious or not. He doesn't seem to be paying you much mind.

After a minute or so, you aren't checking for him anymore and have settled into the movie. You're just getting sucked in when purple strands of hair cover your vision. One side of your headphones is shifted off of your ear, and you are aware of someones head resting atop of yours.

"A Fairy Secret...not one of my favourites. We can watch better ones afterwards, though." Oh. Okay this is happening now. His puts his arms around your shoulders as you watch through the movie together.

Afterwards, as you search for the next movie to watch, you mention how surprising his reaction was to you. He rolls his eyes, "I think it would be obvious that it would take a lot for me to be grossed out or embarrassed by something you like. Nothing wrong with liking Barbie, I clearly have no issues with it."

okay I limited myself to 4 points each for this one but. the idea just crossed my mind of family movie nights with you, Melone, and Babyface. Probably as part of Babyface's "education"...do with that what you will

Ghiaccio

I do NOT blame you, dude. Like with Illuso, there's a very real fear of him making jabs at you liking something so childish. So you diligently hide your watch sessions from him. But he notices, and he is not happy.

He has no clue what you're up to, but he doesn't like how you're hiding from him, and he makes that known quickly. If you try to keep hiding from him, he'll just get more upset, so it's more worth it to just tell him.

Just gives you a weird look when you tell him what you're watching. If there were real life cartoon sound effects, you'd hear the "blink blink" one. "Why would I get mad over you liking some kids show? That's fucking stupid."

He's blunt, but it is a metaphorical splash of cold water to your face: yes, he thinks barbie is stupid, but you're special to him. He loves you, and trust is more important to him than getting mad over "some kids show".

Risotto

Has faith in you, so after you tell him not to worry about your business the first time, he leaves you alone for the next few instances. Leaves you to your own devices.

But after a few weeks, you haven't gotten any more comfortable doing your "personal business" around him. So he asks again, and again, you're standoffish in your response. Now he's suspicious. He still trusts you, but at this point further investigation is more than warranted.

He snoops onto your laptop while you aren't home, and is...confused to say the least. He confronts you about it afterwards, and upon hearing your explanation it all makes sense to him.

"You didn't want to embarrass me? That's a sweet thing for you to do, but you didn't need to hide this from me. I'm sorry for looking through your laptop, but there was no need for you to be so secretive."

[jadedbirch]

The Three Musketeers (2023) - Part 1: d'Artagnan

Directed: Martin Bourboulon

Starring: Vincent Cassel, Eva Green, François Civil 

First of all, you do not know the struggle we had to go through to even get our eyeballs on this movie! Only die hard Dumas idiots like me would have even bothered 🤦🏻‍♀️. Finally, we had to buy it from AppleTV. Anywho, below is my live blog of the latest French nonsense! I make a point of tutoring myself watching as many 3 Musketeers adaptations as possible, regardless of the psychological damage, and I kind of have high hopes for this one despite the fact that I can already tell they cast more for 20 Years After than for The 3 Musketeers. But I'm willing to pretend there are no good, young actors in France (because there's no other way to explain these casting choices) for the sake of my own sanity. The rest of my babbling and movie spoilers will be below the cut!

I see we start the movie in 1627, which already makes me laugh 🤣. The book famously starts in 1625 and then they time skip a year and a half into the future because I guess Dumas remembered that the war starts in 1627. Alex was the king of inexplicable time skips and I see the movie has chosen to stick to history rather than literary canon 👌🏻.

Everything is cold, dark, and wet. I have no idea what's going on, or who this blond woman is, or why d'Artagnan is coming back from the dead. But I'm always in favor of immortal abominations 😈.

It does entertain me that Eric Ruf, who played Aramis in an earlier French adaptation, plays Richelieu in this one. Nice touch.

LOL d'Artagnan gate crashing the musketeer headquarters all "I'm not Soviet, the French do not stand in line!" Anyways, he's authentically obnoxious, which I like, although clearly also 20 years too old.

I feel like this is an AU that takes place before they invented soap and also dyes, which is hilarious because if they're going for historical accuracy, this is just what the plebs think looks "authentic". Why are these men all so dirty and old? At least they make fun of Athos being a thousand years old in the movie, but why is Jussac also so ancient? And still serving in the guards? Life expectancy back then was like 25, but surely no one would be serving in the army past the age of 50, which was like Ancient for the 1600s, even among nobility.

I must laugh at the fact that Athos straight up introduces himself to d'Artagnan as Athos de Sillegue, le comte de La Fère. So, I see we are just going to go there 🤭🤭🤭. This changes his story arc completely though, stay tuned for my whinging. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Absolutely incredible, legendary , A++, 11000/10: bisexual Porthos waking up in bed with a lady and a dude after a night of debauchery! Chef's fucking kiss! I forgive the fact that there are no young people in France.

Aramis, so far is very Murder Kitten. I do wish he'd wash his face more and do something about his guyliner (I feel like he should have just committed to MORE MAKEUP frankly because the guyliner alone is odd), but c'est la vie, I guess.

Plus one point for Athos getting wrongly arrested, minus twenty points for making Athos a Protestant WTF? And in what world would a nobleman of Athos' lineage get sentenced to death for stabbing an unknown woman? This is all so silly! (I do have to give Milady points for just like fucking with him so fantastically. Plus one revenge point to Milady.)

Aramis torturing a guy to save Athos is honestly 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻 11/10 Murder Kitten, automatic plus one point.

This is all incredibly Dramatique, as much as it strains credulity. I love it when modern directors decide that they can write better "action" than Dumas himself. I'm just sitting here screaming "Why would you have that conversation where anyone can hear you!" Minus one point.

I must say Constance and d'Artagnan have a much more believable romance here than in the book. Plus 5 non-creeper points.

(Please I can't stop looking at how old all these Musketeers are 😅😅😅)

Okay so they've also given Athos a BROTHER. Who is part of a Protestant conspiracy. This is all so fucking crazy, I don't even know what to say. Am I watching the musketeers or La Reine Margot? 🤔

Incidentally, the King also gets a brother! Everyone gets a brother! J/K at least the King really did have a historical brother. Athos just gets fucked with in this movie a lot. Automatic minus one point for unnecessary siblings.

WHY must you all insist on having these super SECRET conversations in the middle of a public square where literally anyone can hear you? Minus one dumbass point.

And now d'Artagnan must go to England.... Alone? Because it's more heroic this way? Ambushed by ghost squirrels in the woods? Oh no, that's just Athos, lurking in the woods, as one does. "All misery comes from love." Thanks, Old Man Lush.

This revisionist tale of Milady's past is all very convenient but I FUCKING HATE IT every single time they try to do this in modern adaptations. Let Milady Be Evil 2023! But I see that you will not. Listen, it's not "feminist" to turn the villain into the victim. I'm so tired. 🤦🏻‍♀️ These misguided attempts at feminism really do not do her any favors, she has a lot more agency as simply the Really Bad Girl who just wanted money and power. Minus 5 points for not letting Milady have any fun and minus another 10 points for giving her an abusive ex-husband!

As for Athos, IMO it's always much more compelling to let him be the guy who tried to kill his beloved wife for betraying him, than to make him the spineless man who turns her over to the authorities for Handwavium. Yes, it's pretty fucked up. But it's much more humanizing and makes him a darker, more interesting character. And I will always maintain that.

(This movie is so fucking dark, all the scenes take place at night or in some cthonic tunnels or prisons ffs have mercy on my eyes!)

Oh dear, here we go again. Milady taking a Dramatique - and completely unnecessary - dive off a cliff. Only this time, we know she doesn't die because.... She can swim? And definitely will not have all her bones broken by that 1000 ft fall. Minus 20 points for lazy writing.

(My God, everyone is so dirty, you would think they never did their laundry in France 🤦🏻‍♀️)

Ironically, the only well lit scene takes place in what looks like the Notre Dame which is just very silly as that place is a sepulcher.

(Once again, we are advancing the plot by having super secret conversations conducted in the middle of the palace with an open door where anyone can see and hear you plotting 🤦🏻‍♀️ Minus one petty point.)

Okay, so poor Constance has been kidnapped, and our young hero (who is already a Lieutenant because he and his pals conveniently saved the King's life in a plot twist that was very necessary in other to return Athos to favor in this version) lies unconscious in the streets. They probably didn't even try to kill him this time because they know he's immortal. And speaking of people who just won't die, in a mid-credits scene, it is confirmed that Milady is indeed, very much Not Dead Yet. Surprise! The scene is now set for war in The Three Musketeers: Part 2: Milady.

In summary:

I tallied up my totally random points and ended up with a score of -51, which is Not Good, my friends.

Okay, so I've seen much worse? It's better than Atrocity in 3D, for example, which was just barely watchable as a film and as an adaptation. But they changed so much about the plot and some of the main characters, that it doesn't really feel true to the spirit of the book at this point, which is my main criteria for measuring whether an adaptation is successful. And the main reasons for that are because it's much darker and grittier and less fun than the novel. Which - Quelle domage!

I know that as an unrepentant Athos fangirl, I tend to be biased, so I was trying to be on guard (heheh get it?) for my own biases while watching this. But it's really difficult when Ya Boy is such an integral part of the novel as well as this particular adaptation. And so I must regrettably come back to what a shame it is that they've cast a 60 year old Athos (Vincent Cassel is 57 and he's a fabulous actor whom I've loved in many of his worlks), and I feel like they had to rewrite his character to be more age appropriate and less of the drunken asshole he is in Dumas' first d'Artagnan book. But that's the asshole I fell in love with, and will stan forever. Without him going around beating his servant, indulging his gambling addiction, and being a sarcastic pain in everyone's ass, it's just a completely different story.

Pros:

Hot Eva Green!

bisexual Porthos!

d'Artagnan is given a much less creepy love story with Constance (and I assume he will also not be nonconning Milady in this adaptation)

The King and Queen are much more humanized and sympathetic here.

Cons:

Visually really drab, everything is brown, everyone is dirty.

Very little humor unlike in the novel and some other adaptations.

EVERYONE IS WAY TOO OLD, which changes the feeling of the story significantly, and IMO for the worse, because these people are just not allowed to have fun, and subsequently, neither is the audience.

I will still absolutely be here for Part 2 because I am a masochist!

Grade: B- as a piece of art, but a C as an adaptation of the Dumas classic.

[pocket-luv101]

Masquerade Kiss // CynoNari

Fandom: Genshin Impact Ship: CynoNari

Summary: Cyno attends a masquerade ball in Fontaine as a diplomat for Sumeru. He wishes that Tighnari was with him. (CynoNari)

Tighnari found Cyno enthralling no matter if he wore his Matra uniform or Akademiya robes. This was the first time that he saw him in clothes from outside of Sumeru. Cyno wore a Fontainian style overcoat and jackal mask. He could easily picture Cyno on the cover of a musketeer novel. The costume was a gift and Cyno asked Tighnari to help him adjust the coat to fit him before he wore it to the masquerade ball.

“Keep an eye on Collei while you’re in Fontaine. I know you’ll keep her safe from hilichurls but that’s not the only thing you should watch out for. While this is a masquerade ball, it’s foremost a diplomatic meeting. That’s a lot of pressure for a girl like Collei. If she gets nervous, take her outside for fresh air. For once, I won’t complain if you skip the event to play Genius Invokation with her.” Tighnari chuckled but it settled heavily between them. Cyno could see that Tighnari was more apprehensive about the trip,

The Hydro Archon invited important delegates from each nation to a masquerade ball. The event was to help strengthen the bond between the seven nations after Inazuma opened their borders. Cyno, as the General Mahamatra, was chosen to represent Sumeru. When he told him that he would leave Sumeru for a week, Tighnari suggested that Collei should join him. A journey outside of Sumeru would be a good opportunity for Collei.

Before she met Amber, Collei wandered through the nations to look for a cure. She saw a lot of the world but the scenery was overshadowed by distrust and fear. Tighnari hoped that she could now see it in a new light. As her teacher, he wanted her to pursue her studies. A part of him couldn’t help but worry. After the time they spent together, he saw her as a daughter more than a student.

“If only Lady Furina allowed me to bring two guests. You could join us.” Cyno had to admit that he was apprehensive of the trip and he would feel more confident with Tighnari. He participated in ceremonies in Sumeru and rites with the Temple of Silence so he wasn’t worried about the ball. “Collei looks up to you and she’s more comfortable talking with you. I don’t know what we’ll talk about on the boat ride to Fontaine. It’ll probably be awkward silence.”

“Of the two of us, I think you’re her favourite Papa. She always asks when you’ll be able to join us for dinner again and play Genius Invokation with her. I don’t know how you two can spend hours on that game.” Despite the complaint, Tighnari smiled as he pictured the rare nights Cyno spent at Granharva Ville. Both Cyno and Collei had complicated pasts and Tighnari was happy they could be a family together. “You already escorted Collei on a trip. The second trip should be easier.”

Cyno’s doubtful expression didn’t change with his reassurance. The sealing ritual saved her but he knew that it was a painful experience. He understood her situation all too well and he didn’t want to make her relive the memories. When he first brought her to Tighnari, he hesitated to visit them. Tighnari later encouraged him to spend more time with Collei and teach her how to read through their shared interest in light novels and trading cards.

“I wish I was better with people the way you are.” Cyno sighed.

“You should be more confident in yourself.” Tighnari took his hand and tenderly squeezed his fingers. He had seen how close Cyno and Collei were but their experiences made it difficult for them to express it at times. He thought of what else he could say to encourage him. “Collei liked your pun with the cat. I can look over your little book of jokes to find more that will make her laugh.”

“I thought of a new joke while you were helping me with my costume.” Cyno placed his hand over his heart and asked: “Are you certain that your vision is dendro? You can be a hydro user because you electrocharge my heart.”

“That’s more of a lame pickup line than a joke.” He didn’t laugh but the corner of his lips tipped into a reluctant smile. His smile was beautiful and that sight was enough for Cyno. “I’m surprised that you didn’t say the more obvious pun. Your vision must be pyro because you set my heart on fire.”

“You’re already perfect for me. With your dendro vision, you make my heart quicken.” He playfully twirled a green strand of hair around his finger. Between his touch and joke, Tighnari felt heat rise up face. He couldn’t admit how much he enjoyed Cyno’s jokes despite how dry they were. To hide his blush, Tighnari took Cyno’s mask and slipped it on.

“I hope you don’t tell those jokes to anyone in Fontaine. I don’t know what kind of humour the region has but we shouldn’t risk an international dilemma. This masquerade ball is to bring the seven nations together, after all.” He stepped back and looked over the costume that Fontaine sent Cyno for the event. He was handsome and would no doubt be popular at the party. Other guests would ask him to dance and he would have to due to politics and politeness.

He trusted Cyno and their relationship so he knew that he would never cheat on him. However, he didn’t like the thought of him dancing with someone else. Tighnari bit his lip and looked down. Jealousy was a childish emotion but Cyno brought out a different side to him. “I heard that people in Fontaine are hopeless romantics. They also enjoy dramatic displays.”

Cyno placed his finger beneath his chin and gently lifted his gaze back to him. The mask hid his face and he wished he could see his green eyes. He leaned down and kissed him through the mask. Tighnari could feel the warmth of his lips through the thin fabric. Cyno wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him closer. With their bodies pressed together, he imagined them dancing in a ballroom.

“It’s a shame that you can’t join us— for more than just Collei’s sake. I don’t want to dance with anyone but you.” Cyno rarely allowed himself to voice his wish. Growing up in the Akademiya, he learned to restrain his selfish whims because scholars would dismiss him. Tighnari was different. He had a genuine heart and that warmth drew Cyno to him. He could be himself with him. “Furina sent the guests a book to teach us the waltz. Will you help me practise?”

He placed Cyno’s hands on his waist before he lightly laid his own fingers on his shoulders. “Neither of us are experts in dance so this will probably be like the blind leading the blind. We don’t have the Akasha to help us anymore. We’ll have to practise for hours.”

“I don’t mind. That gives me an excuse to stay longer. Nahida gave me the week off to prepare for the trip to Fontaine. I can sleep here tonight.” Cyno suggested and Tighnari nodded readily. Their work kept them apart so he wanted to savour the rare opportunity they had now. A part of Cyno also wanted to spend more time with Tighnari because he knew he would miss him in Fontaine.

Tighnari must’ve had the same thought because he moved closer to him and wrapped his arms around his neck. “You were given the dance lessons so you should lead this dance. We just need music—”

“Tighnari!” Collei’s voice broke through the moment. They were alone in his hut but they could still hear her outside. He smiled regretfully and dropped his arms from his shoulders. Tighnari walked to his window and looked towards Collei’s tent below his. She waved back to him. “I tried on my costume and I need it fitted now. Are you finished helping Cyno?”

When he would’ve replied, Cyno wrapped his arm around Tighnari’s waist and briefly distracted him. Cyno leaned forward and his strong chest pressed against his back. He grinned down at Collei. “Your costume looks cute, Collei. When you tried it on, did you hear the spool ask the needle ‘How are you doing?’ His answer was ‘sew sew’.”

He groaned at his pun while Collei retreated into her tent to escape any further puns. Tighnari turned in Cyno’s arms so they were facing each other. “Knowing you, you thought of that pun a while ago and were waiting for an opportunity to tell it.”

“You know me well. I love you sew much.” Despite the forced pun, the love in Cyno’s voice softened Tighnari and made his heart quickened. He wanted to linger in the moment but Collei was waiting for him. Tighnari wondered if Cyno could read his thoughts when he added: “You should go help Collei. I’ll get dinner started.”

He nodded and he let go of him. Tighnari walked the short distance to Collei’s resting on a tree branch. She heard his footsteps as he approached and opened the door for him. Collei wore a lavender dress that matched the costume given to Cyno. She nervously tugged at the feather on her headpiece. “Do I look silly? I’m not accustomed to this style.”

“You look pretty.” He patted her head and reassured her as a father would. “You don’t have to worry about your appearance or the judgement of others, Collei. This trip is for you to have fun and expand your knowledge of cultures outside Sumeru.”

“Fontaine sent five dresses but they’re too elaborate for me. They’re all from Chioriya Boutique.” Collei nodded at the giftboxes on her desk. “Furina’s letter said they’re gifts and I can keep the dresses. I can’t imagine wearing them though. Should I send them back?”

“It’ll be a shame to throw away such fine fabric. Perhaps, you can keep one for a special occasion and give the others to Dehya or Nilou. You’re shorter than them but they can have the dresses adjusted to fit them.” Tighnari suggested. He walked to the gift box and studied the dresses. “So, this is the fashion in Fontaine. How interesting.”

“If you ever visit Sumeru, you should see Pardis Dhyai first. I’ve spent a lot of time in their garden. Good thymes and memories. I will vouch for its beauty.” Cyno’s joke was followed by a chorus of laughter from Neuvillette. He never expected his puns to be so popular in Fontaine and it was a pleasant surprise.

Cyno heard of Fontaine’s love for theatrics and how even their trials could become entertainment. The masquerade ball was far more extravagant than he imagined. A thousand candles illuminated the room and reflected against the gold drapes lining the wall. Flowers lined the tables and he couldn’t find a single space left empty. The guests’ sapphire, jade and ruby costumes could almost be mistaken for decorative jewels at a distance.

While the fashion of Fontaine was different, the festive atmosphere reminded him of life in Sumeru City. He couldn’t bring himself to fully relax and enjoy the party. Cyno missed Tighnari and he wished that he could dance with him. He spent a majority of the ball speaking with the Ludex. “I’ve interrogated many criminals as the General Mahamatra. The hardest one to get information from was a mime.”

Among the loud music and the chatter of the crowd, a sudden silence in the room caught his attention. A masked figure walked through the garden gate and into the ballroom. He wore an amethyst dress and the skirt hugged his hips, giving him the image of an oceanid. The rich purple fabric contrasted his green tail. He was breathtaking and the mystery of his sudden arrival caught people’s attention further. While the room stared at him, he didn’t give them a glance. He walked to a table and simply studied the flower vase.

Gentlhome Usher had already introduced the guests and the mysterious man hadn’t been among them. The room whispered and spectated who their new guests could be. Neuvillette gestured to a guard and said, “Bring the uninvited guest to me. I must question him and assess whether he’s a threat. Please be discreet to not disturb the masquerade ball.”

“Wait,” Cyno quickly stopped him. “I know who he is. I can assure you that the man isn’t a threat to Fontaine or this party. Let me speak with him.”

Cyno didn’t wait for Neuvillette’s answer before he walked to the masked fox.

“May I have a dance?” Tighnari recognized the voice so he knew Cyno made the request even before he turned to face him. Cyno bowed to him and then held out his hand to him. He had imagined dancing with him in a ballroom a thousand times but he never thought they would be able to. When he sneaked into the ballroom, he only intended to watch over Cyno and Collei from a distance. He worried they would be attacked by Fatui or Treasure Hunters.

A part of him had to admit that he was hoping for Cyno to recognize him and ask him to dance as he did now. He didn’t want to let the moment slip away though. Tighnari placed his hands in Cyno’s. “It would be my pleasure.”

Cyno brought him to the center of the room and then they faced each other. He kissed Tighnari’s gloved hand before he brought it to his shoulder. As he would so many nights, Cyno placed his hand on his waist and pulled him against his body. They fit together perfectly and Cyno leaned down to rest his forehead on his. The song started and the music almost drowned out the whisper he gave to Tighnari.

“You’re beautiful like a fairy tale, Tighnari. Are you Cendrillion or The Little Oceanid? I’m worried that you’ll disappear at midnight if you’re the former.” Despite his disguise, Cyno recognized him. Once he heard Tighnari giggle, his suspicions were confirmed. He didn’t need to see his tail or ears to know that he was Tighnari. He was able to recognize him from his proud walk and soft voice.

“I thought I could sneak into the party without anyone noticing. It appears I’ve failed. I don’t understand why everyone finds my ears and tail fascinating.” A thousand pairs of eyes were watching them and he could feel their curious gaze. Both Cyno and Tighnari were accustomed to people watching them in the Akademiya. In each other’s arms, they didn’t have to worry about their career or people’s judgement.

With each step, Tighnari moved closer to him. He rested his cheek on his shoulder and closed his eyes. He could hear his heartbeat and he swayed in time with the sound. They rarely had the chance to dance together yet matching his slow pace came naturally to him. They relaxed into the moment and the world faded around them.

“I overheard you speak with Neuvillette. Thank you. This must be the second time you’ve stopped someone from arresting me.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He promised and squeezed his hand tenderly. With his other hand, Cyno traced a circle over Tighnari’s hip and the lilac dress. Whether he wore Sumerian silk or Fontaine lace, he was stunning to him. “Though, that would be easier if you told me about your plan first.”

“This plan was a surprise to me as well. You can thank Dehya and Candace for this costume. When I delivered the dresses to them, I told them about the masquerade ball. They gave me this dress and then pushed me into a boat to Fontaine.” Tighnari chuckled as he recalled the afternoon. “Honestly, I’m happy that they did. I wanted to dance with you. We don’t get this opportunity with the Akademiya watching us.”

They needed to keep their relationship a secret since Cyno had many enemies through his job. Cyno didn’t want to endanger Tighnari and Collei. He came to the masquerade ball as the General Mahamatra. However, in that moment, he let himself act as a masked man and his lover.

[the-commonplace-book]

For the ship chart maybe you could do Victoria/Prudence or maybe Arthur/ Sally? Honestly love the level of analysis you put into these asks

Send me a ship for the ship bingo chart: Arthur Hastings / Sally Boyle ( We Happy Few )

Arthur and Sally you say? >:) Oh do I have Thoughts™ about Arthur and Sally (anon I’d like to give you a kiss on the mouth for sending them in) 

I’ve talked about Arthur and Sally before and this will come as no surprise to folks who were around last year when I was still in the throws of my first We Happy Few kick: I don’t ship Arthur and Sally and I think it’s good that they parted ways. I’ll talk about the one exception context in which I do ship them later, but for now let me elaborate on why in most scenarios Sally and Arthur absolutely do NOT work together. 

There’s a lot of appeal in the childhood friends, reunited and falling in love, trope at a first glance with Arthur and Sally, but in many ways their past and their respective unwillingness to let go of it is their downfall. Their arc plays perfectly into the narrative themes of We Happy Few. Their perceptions of each other are based on how they thought of each other as teenagers, not who they are as adults - or even who they really were as teenagers. 

Let’s look first at Sally. 

when we're together we're unstoppable. arthur and sally. sir galahad and the lady of the lake. the two musketeers  (Sally Note: Arthur!) i wanted to much to say, help, i've got a bloody baby. but he was so awful all i could get out was sorry sorry i'm sorry, and i want to help you and who even knows if he heard any of it. (Sally Note: Arthur!)

She is desperate for his approval because she respects his opinion, which makes it hurt so much more when he fails to give it. She imagines he’s right, whatever he says about her, because of course he is. She continues to bat her eyes and ask him for things because she knows he can’t say no, but she also continues to take shit from him because she really believes he has the best intentions. She thinks of him as kind and reliable, someone she can trust no matter what, and she does genuinely take advantage of that at times. Moreover, she struggles to accept that he has nuance beyond that and that he honestly had a nasty side that doesn’t line up with her image of him

When Verloc, or Byng, or any other man belittles her she blames patriarchy. When Arthur belittles her, she blames herself. She sees Arthur as smart, kind, and willing to help her with all her needs at the drop of a hat. But is he? Is he really? 

Is Arthur kind? No. Maybe he had more kindness in him as a teen, but Arthur is self-serving and avoids taking blame by painting himself as a victim of circumstance. He always has. Will Arthur help her no matter what? In the end, no. Because helping her came in conflict with point A about his own self-preservation. 

Speaking of Arthur, let’s take a look at how he thinks of Sally. 

She was being all lovely and slipped-the-surly-bonds-of-Earth Sally, only even more so, and then she said she was mates with Sir Robert B, or more than mates I suppose, and from then on all I could think about was that horrible night. (Arthur Note: And Then There Was Sally) The thing is, I don't trust her. She was always so wonderful when she was there, but a girl like Sally always has so many better places to be, and better people to be with, or worse people that she prefers anyway for some reason. And sometimes she'd just hide in Percy's old room in the attic and not come down. Who knows what's going on with her now? (Arthur Note: And Then There Was Sally) I should have said, "How have you been all these years, Sally? You ran off into the night with nothing, and now you're some sort of brilliant chemist. How did you survive? I wish I could have helped you. It would be nice to be friends again." Instead of all those dreadful things. (Arthur Line during The Faraday Cage) What if she is utterly sincere? What if she honestly does want me, and love me,  and need me? Do I have utterly no faith left in anyone? And she'd survive and I'd get killed. A girl like her shipwrecks, and the next day she's drinking margaritas under palm leaves. Yours truly is shark bait. (Arthur Note: I Am An Awful Person, But)

Arthur views Sally as being confident, flirtatious, always in control. While there is some truth to the notion that she uses men for her own gain, Arthur doesn’t ever take the time to examine why or understand the nuance of her choices. Instead he slut shames her for it. He gets upset at her for her “relationship” with Gen. Byng despite them having not spoken in fourteen years and despite the two of them having never had a relationship. As if he expected her to stay celibate for years just because he had a crush (he’d never say that, but it’s how he acts towards her) Arthur has always liked Sally, but Sally only finally decides she likes him when he can do something for her. Of course, Arthur being Arthur with his inability to accept blame without a caveat that shifts it elsewhere, doesn’t truly acknowledge that he is doing the exact same thing. He only seeks Sally out for help with the Letter of Transit. Everything comes back around to that. 

Then there’s the elephant in the room: What happened with Sally and Mr. Hastings

Arthur, in some capacity, blames Sally for what happened, even if he intellectually understands it wasn’t her fault. Sally, similarly, understands to a degree that it wasn’t her fault, but she still blames herself for it. 

what was i supposed to tell his dad, "no, you're practically my stepfather"? that would have gone over brillo. (Sally Note: Arthur!)

It doesn’t matter that her being sixteen made it legal. The fact is that Sally was young, barely of legal age, and staying with the Hastings after her entire family died. She had nowhere else to go. Mr. Hastings might not have been physically forceful, but it was coercion and he was absolutely 100% at fault. Sally has internal conflict about the whole incident and it makes sense. If she blames herself then it means she was in control, and Sally feels most secure when she’s in control.

Arthur has his own internal conflict about it. On some level he understands it wasn’t her fault (“I don't hate you, in the strangest way you're completely innocent.”) but he still yells at her about it when they reunite. He still lets it color his perception of her. His mum had died and he found his best friend (who he had a crush on) in his mum’s old bed with his dad. That had to have done a number on his psyche. 

I always used to wonder, if I'd run out the door after her, that day, what would have happened to us. Would we still be friends? Or was the magic all in my head? Who am I kidding? 16-year-old-me would never have had the courage to leave home!   (Arthur Note: I Am An Awful Person, But)

We don’t know whether this is something Arthur actually used to wonder, or if he’s just saying that now, but regardless there is an acknowledgement that at sixteen, he chose to stay with his dad. He didn’t run after Sally. And thanks to Joy, he never took the time to actually process what happened. Not until the events of the game. So he yells at her, he asks her why, despite knowing (to a degree) that she isn’t the person he should be asking that. But his dad is dead, and Sally’s here in front of him apologizing. So isn’t it easier to blame her? 

But what if…?

There’s this longing between them for their friendship to be renewed, but without accepting that they’ve both grown and changed as people (perhaps for the worse) and without acknowledging the past, there’s no hope for a future between them. Those barriers have to be broken down first. Sally was willing to try. Arthur wasn’t. Arthur believes that she chose her own convenience over leaving with him. Sally believes that Arthur left despite knowing she had a baby. 

Did Arthur hear her and just choose not to remember? Or did he really not hear her? We don’t know.

 Each character is an unreliable narrator in their act. Though I personally think he really didn’t hear her, I can’t imagine it changing anything. We know from Arthur’s act that he thought of Sally as surely having been less of a ‘loose woman’ in the past decade  (the “I haven't had sex with anyone in ten years! And if I did, it wouldn't be with that man.” line about Byng that we only get in Act I). He was faced with the reality of Sally and Verloc’s relationship in Haworth Labs via old notes, but it’s much harder to ignore a baby. A tangible result of her having had sex with someone. Arthur has an image he wants so desperate for Sally to fit, and she keeps contradicting it, but he just keeps hoping and trying. I could very easily see him responding to this news with a snarky comment about how she should ask her baby’s father for help or her good friend the General, if they’re not one in the same. (Gwen is very much Verloc’s baby is but Arthur doesn’t know that).

Despite how much they care about each other, and despite how much they may mutually wonder how things could have gone differently, even if they had an opportunity to sit down and have a proper conversation later, it would take a lot of time to be in a place where they could rebuild their friendship, and a romantic relationship would be toxic as hell if they weren’t intentional about making it healthy. Arthur doesn’t trust Sally as far as he can throw her and Sally isn’t exactly trustworthy. They’re both incredibly self-serving and both of them are incapable of acknowledging fault in any meaningful way. Arthur is awful to Sally and Sally takes it to heart, resulting in a horrid amount of negative self-talk about things she shouldn’t be blaming herself for, while she continues to ignore the problems she does have.

Arthur’s distrust, Sally’s fear of being trapped by a man, the mutual fear of the other person walking away, etc. etc. As much as I like the idea of them being in a healthy relationship down the line, it’s highly unlikely under most circumstances because they’re a wreck. It’s good that Arthur and Sally parted ways in We Happy Few. They both needed to let go of the past, and letting go of each other was a crucial step in that process.

The one exception in which I do ship them:

If it’s not clear yet, I’m in no way an Arthur apologist or a Sally apologist. I think they’re both messed up people who have a lot of growing to do, but I do have one context in which I ship them.

First of all, they would need a lot of time, a lot of personal growth, and a lot of intentional rebuilding of trust. They would have to learn to let go of their assumptions about each other and accept each other as they truly are. 

However, if they were able to take those steps, I could see them getting together a few years down the road once they’ve sorted themselves out as individuals and set new, healthier foundations for their relationship platonically. There may be room for a touch of romance after a decade or so.

Under the conditions that they’ve reached this healthier place in their lives, I think they would actually work well together. Arthur is the epitome of a male-wife and Sally is a working woman. He’s always admired her brilliance and finds it admirable how well she’s done for herself. He would support her in her career and she would support him in his, whatever that might be.

I think they balance each other out really well, too. Arthur is so caught up in what’s right and wrong. He sees people as either “good” or “bad” in most cases, where Sally sees everyone as being in that grey space between. This can cause conflict, but it can also cause growth if they take the time to listen to each other. Arthur needs someone to help him question that worldview. 

Sally sees people as tools for the most part. Most people (not all, but most) are means to an end in her eyes, and I think Arthur could help her challenge that in herself and try to be a better person simply for the sake of human decency. 

They have a shared love of literature and fashion, and admire each other in so many ways. Arthur admires her determination, intellect, and cleverness. Sally admires his wit, kindness, and ingenuity. While in the game they hold these things up as impossible ideals that don’t leave room for flaw, these opinions aren’t entire unfounded, and I think given time, trust, and honesty they could really help each other to be better versions of themselves. 

Also Arthur helping take care of Gwen is just soft. 

They wouldn't have an explosive romance. It would instead be the slowest of slow burns with a lot of hiccups along the way. It would begin with reconciliation and would take years of rebuilding trust and friendship. I could see them growing closer again over the years until one day they realize that Arthur comes over for dinner every night. He sleeps over on the couch more often than not. He’s practically living here already, so why not just move in? So the spare bedroom becomes Arthur’s room. Gwen’s a tween by now and is at that age where she’s meddling in other people’s love lives and thinks she knows what’s best for everyone. She’s thrilled at the idea of Uncle Arthur moving in. By her reckoning he and her mum are already a couple. It’s a while before Arthur and Sally acknowledge that that’s what they’ve become.

They’ve been walking side-by-side through life for years now and one day realize they’ve been holding hands along the way. 

For the art, I decided to draw them about 30 years down the line in the 90s ♥

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk :)  I’ll make a separate (shorter certainly) post for Prudence and Victoria. (edit: here it is!)

[cuzisaidso]

The Mistake Pt.1

Series: 1/? (Add when series complete)

(Don’t own the art! Got it from Pinterest, wonderful drawing )

Huggy Wuggy!FEM!READER!

Warning: swearing

Light blue- narrative/dialogue

Purple-A/N(me)

Summary: You and your friends decide to visit that run down old toy factory. Not knowing what lies inside. You deeply regret your decision soon as you step in and face the consequences.

Pt.1

Walking up to the multi-colored factory, shifting my backpack on my shoulders, I look back at the dumbasses who dragged me here in the first place. Tyler, Donnie, Shaggy, and Cheryl the four dumbass musketeers doing stupid shit on a daily basis.

This is probably one of their biggest dimwitted ideas so far, and sadly I'm a part of the group. Tyler is the player of the group, being almost six foot, with dirty blond hair and blue eyes, lean and kinda muscular body. Basically the stereotypical rich boy.

Having nothing better to do with his life but raise hell, he decided that breaking an entering is more fun than smoking weed and playing video games with Shaggy.

Donnie being the second tallest of the group is highly nonchalant, and I don’t think he gives a fuck what we do, just as long as his shoes stay clean and his hair stays cut, he tags along.

Cheryl is Tyler's girlfriend. I don’t like her much but he likes her so she is a part of the group… until he gets tired and she gets replaced.

Cheryl is what you call a “pick me girl,” she feels everyone, and everything should be about her. Especially when it comes to Tyler, he gotta be giving her that monster dick the way she’s always up on him.

Shaggy… well he’s Shaggy, the pot head of the group. Not going to lie, what he brings calms my nerves especially when Tylers lil girlfriend or whatever tags along with us, she’s soooo fucking annoying.

Stopping at the entrance of the building. Tyler blinks confused. “Hmm, that’s weird” I look at him “what you mean?” He opens the door “last time I checked this place the doors were locked” I look confused “and?” He sighs and shakes his head “never mind let’s go” Tyler walks in. We follow.

“I think we should turn back….this place looks hella creepy” Tyler rolls his eyes at my response.

“You can go home y/n, but me and the others are going in. I always knew you were the pussy of the group” I glare

“Hey, let’s get this straight. I ain’t no pussy. And I’ll never will be one.” Tyler smirks

“Only pussies say they aren’t pussies” I take a slow inhale of air.

“Okay” I step forward purposefully bumping into Tyler in the way in. Shoving the door open. I walk in and down the dimly lit hallway.

The others follow behind me as we all look around the dark, dirty, and musty place. “Definitely a kids place for sure” grumbles Donnie.

“Heh, looks kinda dope” replies Shaggy. “Only you’ll think this place is dope shags, are you on shrooms again?” Shag smiles suspiciously “probably “

Cheryl Grimaces as her high platform flip flops sticks to the floor as we walk. “Baby, it’s all nasty in here” she whines. Tyler wraps his arm around her waist kissing her head.

“You will be fine, we are going to look around for a bit, turn around and go home” Cheryl doesn’t look convinced but nods along to what he says.

As we walk farther into the building, we stop. “Poppy playtime co?” I repeat as I read the sign.

“Oh! I know this place! Daddy got me a little toy kitty cat that was a bee. Hmmm what was it named…oh! a cat-bee it was soooo adorable” squeals Cheryl.

Of course the rich bitch will know what this place is, if I was lucky, what I got from the store that was probably the most expensive is Walmart. Cheapest is the dollar store. And that was the usual go to.

My mother will always say “I ain’t spending my money on unnecessary shit you only gone play with for a week than get tired and ask for more.” Most of the toys I did have were pass me downs from my older siblings anyway.

Below the sign is a board, I walk over and look down at the board. One side is a blue circle as the other is a red circle. The sign is worn down and most of the words are dusted over. “Hmm, it’s says…Huggy Wuggy, no… oh…His name is Huggy, Huggy Wuggy when he hugs he will never stop Your friend Huggy, Huggy Wuggy He'll squeeze you until you pop” Donnie chuckles

“Isn’t that cute” I frown “more like weird. I look at the empty space in front of the board.

“Isn’t there supposed to be like a…uh…whatever it is in front of the board? Since it says the name of what the toy is?” Ask shaggy

I shrug my shoulders “probably”

Tyler kicks one of the alphabet blocks, it doesn’t budge. “I knew it was glued down” grumbles Tyler.

“I always knew you was low key slow Ty” I say as he glares at me.

“Haha so funny” he growls. I smile and walk toward the gift shop.

“Y’all think it still has shit inside?” Shaggy shrugs “probably” Cheryl looks over. “Y’all should go in” I roll my eyes at her and push open the doors.

Nothing much can be seen, discarded broken toys lays on the floor. Along with other stuff. I hum as I walk around the room. Stopping and picking up a flyer. It shows a tall blue mascot, will I think it is. “That’s huggy” I jerk and turn around.

Cheryl smiles, I glare “you lucky you ain’t no random bitch from the street, your ass would have gotten knocked, don’t pop up behind people. That’s how you get hit”

She giggles “sorry Y/n. But for real. That’s huggy. I had the mini version of him back home”

“Uhuh, did you have all the damn dolls than?” She shakes her head.

“No, some of the dolls I wasn't allowed to get, like Poppy. I always wanted Poppy, she was cute and small. Perfect for tea parties”

“Ok…um..did your dad work here or something?” She nods “yeah, daddy was in charge of something. I don’t remember. But he will bring back toys. They were all so cute”

Cheryl giggles “I had things the other girls couldn’t get, it was so fun.” And there goes the conversation. Out the window.

I walk around her and out of the shop, Tyler walks down some hallway. Looks like the door was unlocked and open.

Donnie and Shaggy follows him. I tag along as well.

“Sooooo…what are we going to do since we are here?” Questions Donnie. “I don’t know, look around. Find shit we want. Take it. Than leave”

“So we're stealing? Not only this is breaking and entering but stealing as well” Tyler stops and turns around glaring at me “if you have such a problem. You can leave. No one forced you to come” I nod

“No one did, but I ain’t gon let this be on my conscience if something happens” he groans rubbing his hands on his face. “Y/N, nothing is going to happ-“ i high pitch screech can be heard.

We look up at the vents, thunks and bangs can be heard. “What the hell…” exclaims Donnie.

“Probably the building creaking. It’s old” I look at Tyler not convinced “old enough to make sounds like that?”

“Yes, now let’s go. I want to see the toy making machine” I blink slowly as Tyler walks the rest of the way. Donnie, Shaggy, and Cheryl follows.

“This is some mad sketchy shit man.”

“Oh, shut up Y/n” I glare at Tyler.

A/N:Hello, I decided to make a series of Huggy Wuggy. Mostly likely talking to myself at this point. But I saw that there isn’t a lot of Huggy Wuggy fics. So. I decided to make one for myself and others who will like to read this. Yes I know it starts off slow. But it will get better. I did do some research, I’m still researching so please point out any mistakes I have made during this series. Along with grammar mistakes as well. It will help me.

[fang-revives]

full bodied, all heart (Tsuji Yota/Narita Ren)

Been adding bits and pieces to this for a few weeks. Just a little post-July 27 G1 matches (Hikuleo vs Tsuji, Narita vs Sanada) that outlines some of the dynamic I've been tossing around in my head for them -- enjoy some gentle fluff and Narita stretching the definition of "one night stand" a bit ;)

*

The shower water comes in hot, feels like trial by fire. It’s over. It isn’t over. Narita Ren's first G1, lost nearly as soon as he could have. Typical, even for one marked to carry the company’s future. It still stings.

There will be other matches. Maybe he could show that Kiyomiya a thing or two, even if he’s not leaving the block.

And really, it’s hard to feel too cheated, when Shibata texted a few terse compliments on his match with Sanada. It may be a loss, but it’s worth something. They’ve all taught him something. Ren dresses while silently mouthing the lyrics to Bury. Maybe he should rewatch One Outs tonight. Might help him relax.

Outside the showers, a lone figure sits in the locker room – hunched up in a corner, long hair shrouding his face. Why hasn’t Yota left yet?

Is he…waiting? For Ren? Is that what this is, a quiet prayer for someone to come out of the shadows, make it all make sense?

Ren’s chest twists. He knows – what that’s like. Somehow he doubts Naito is going to make the time for an unscheduled bar crawl. Does LIJ even text in full sentences?

“Oh. It’s you that’s still here.” the surprise on Yota’s face doesn’t look like a lie. Ren shrugs one shoulder, sits on the bench next to him.

“You’re still here too,” Ren points out.

“Well look at us. Bottom of the block, carrying the era.”

Ren blinks. This isn’t – he’s never heard Yota talk quite like this before. Blunt, and raw and – no teasing to it.

“Come on Narita. Take your shots at me. I’m all talk. I’m no better than you were,” he mutters the last one, barely looking Ren in the eye.

“Is that what I’m supposed to do here?” Ren stares. Just under a week ago, Yota had his mouth all over Ren’s cock.

Yota just swears under his breath. Ren wonders if this was how he looked to Yota after the loss to Kidd. The underdog’s despair feels more unfair on him. His natural state is radiant.

The shower drips audibly. Ren should – say something. Anything. Something like comfort. What would Shibata-san say?

“Look, you’re not the only one. It’s almost all of us.” of course Umino is spared for now. Of course. Ren bites the inside of his cheek. A spoiler chance isn’t much of a chance.

“See, that's an easy target, right there. I was going on about how stupid the Musketeers were, how you weren't on my level. Now even Umino is ahead of me.”

“That’s everyone, their first G1.”

“You’re still not giving me shit,” Yota does look at him now, his intense eyes earnest – the bruises on his neck faded even now. Fuck, if Ren is honest, Shibata-san would have ripped him a new one. Would have walked away without looking back. Wouldn’t have ended up–

– well no, Ren’s not sure. He’s not.

He didn’t come to give Yota shit. He’s not sure he could– not without a match anyhow. Not with Yota’s hair hanging in messy curtains, the way his light shove feels half-hearted coming from a man whose every action has his full blood in it.

Ren leans in slow. Yota doesn’t pull away, opens his mouth into the kiss. One hand on his cheek. His lips turn up a bit, still sad, but teasing when Ren finally draws back.

“I'm just trying to help you," Yota says, with an airy half-laugh. Ren doesn’t need to answer that. It’s a debt paid, between them, a kiss after a loss for a kiss after a loss.

Ren doesn’t get up. Yota’s hand is still on his knee.

“Do you like fighting me?” Ren asks, against his better instincts.

“God, yes. More than Umino. Don’t tell him I said that though, I don’t want to play favorites.”

It’s an odd thing to say, but Ren nods. If he thinks about it – he does like fighting Yota. Kind of. It’s like being flayed raw, but he’s the right person to do it.

Fighting Shota – fuck, he wants to beat him so bad.

“You want to take this home?” Yota asks quietly.

“Yeah,” he answers without thinking. Well. They can draw out this one-night-stand a little longer. It’s not like Ren has any plans, “Come on, we can pick up some yakisoba on the way.”

And that does get him a smile, full-bodied, all heart. So it’s worth that much.

[lafcadiosadventures]

Madame Putiphar Readalong. Book Two, Chapter XXII:

The banality of Evil

detail from James Gillroy's A Voluptuary Under the Horrors of Digestion

From Villepastour’s Castle to Putiphar’s lair we go. Patrick jumps to and fro like a pawn in a board game. No time to catch his breath from the intensity he just endured at Gave’s, he is already on his knees, kissing the hem of Putiphar dress, once again ready to kiss more of her, in order to get her not to deport his undeserving friend Fitz-Harris, who Putiphar affirms, should be more than happy to be set free (let us bear in mind that the man, despite his many flaws, had only sang a stupid song) He gives her what she wants. He needs all the powerful friends he can get (is he thinking also of asking her help in securing his position on the musketeers/clearing his slate?). The chapter is for now, almost a perfect refelection of Chapter XIX, but it skillfully lets reader expectations down. Those expecting another eroticosymbolist scene between Patrick and Putiphar, with the poetry of the kiss and Patrick’s both skilled and naif manipulation, will be disappointed: we are given something diametrically opposed to that. Farce.

Madame Putiphar is in Petrus eyes, the de facto queen of France. As Patrick comes to his appointment, ministers are leaving after a meeting with her, her desk full of maps, plans, treaties, etc. What is the actual king of France doing? Cooking.

The ridiculousness of the situation is evident. The man who is supposed to be the most powerful in France sends his mistress to do his work while he’s all messy, dressed as a cook (a typically femenine and proletarian occupation, even if cuisine was Alexandre Dumas’ hobby, he was seen as super extravagant for cooking for his guests)(If inversion of gender roles seem to be completely positive when it’s Debby and Patrick having qualities traditionally thought of as pertaining to the opposite gender, or the narrator remarkably stating the feminine education has only improved Patrick, the inversion is completely ridiculous and negative here)

After Pharaon’s farcical intervention (calling out for his beloved Pompon, dressed as a cook, not at all sure if the political council was over yet, not at all surprised at assuming Pompadour is with a lover, delighted at the prospect of her trying his eggs, proud at his subjects revering and recognizing him even while dressed as a kitchen boy (“emasculated” and de-ennobled too) we get not only a parody of the King, but a high parody of Patrick (we are not used to see the narrator mock his protagonists. But, just look at this:

“As soon as Patrick was outside, thick tears ran from his eyelids! sensitive and great, he had been shaken all the way to his entrails, seeing what had been done to his King.  And his heart broke, and his tears doubled, when as he crossed a gallery adorned with paintings, his eyes met Louis IX and Charlemagne!” (tr. via @sainteverge ) )

Patrick seems to embody here a parody of a belief many contemporary to Borel royalists held: that the olde monarchies were a lost golden age, and that monarchy fell because of bad execution (basically what Janin says in his review, defending la Pompadour from Borel’s “attack” only to condemn Louis XV, claiming the people didn’t like monarchy because it wasn’t done right to them!)(there is a right way to do monarchy according to those guys, you just have to look at people like Louis XIV, a big fave who Borel doesn’t mention, Charlemagne, and I guess Louis IX)

However, even if the narrator had not mocked Patrick before, he had always had elements of a Candide/Justine type of character. He’s the naif hero who still believes in the world as a lawful place, that the laws of the status quo exist for the greater good (despite hating imperial England’s domain of Ireland) still believes in the natural good of the crown and the church, only to be brutally disillusioned.

But back to the King and his de facto Queen. These are the people who manage the fates of an entire nation? This is how much attention they pay to matter of the state??? This are the super-villains who could snap the lives of our heroes out just like that if they wanted to? As in other romantic novels (can’t help of thinking of the Vautrin novels, where his mental and physical strength can do very little -on occasion!!- against the more inept and gray employees of the state who are his opponents) the personal qualities of the heroes can do very little against social roles, and sometimes their opponents are far less than them, and yet they will win. Patrick is an epic poem of a main character both in his qualities and his appearance. And his opponents are so terribly prosaic. So banal. So base. Completely devoid of poetry. They live to eat and fuck, and avoid work (Pompadour seems more serious about handling the state to be fair). And yet they are antagonists not really because of any personal qualities, they are as regular and vulgar as can be. But they wield tremendous amount of undeserved, unearned power, in louis’ case he only had to be born, and Pompon is the fruit of royal favoritism. Having them be like this really brings the point home -whether Borel agrees or not with the idea that the monarchies of old were better- that this isn’t about a single bad king, this is about power being inherited by people who have no calling/ability or interest to govern. And this prosaic couple can and will crush the lives of better people than themselves.

[queenofmistresses]

The Third Musketeer

Chapter 5

A/N I did a mini poll to decide whether or not to continue after the last chapter or redo it and leave out the *cough* events between Stiles and reader. I didn’t have many responses but most people voted for me to continue! So here’s the next chapter! Hope you all enjoy and please reblog and even give me feedback if you’re feeling extra nice! Thank you! Not fully proofread btw…

Someone had been murdered. Again. And guess who was at the crime scene? Jackson and Lydia. God, it’s like no-one can escape this. 

Stiles called me up last night to tell me about it, it wasn’t good, and Jackson was angry. So angry he started yelling at Stiles’ dad. 

I try to forget about everything as I walk into school, taking a deep breath and step inside. Just, focus on school, that’s what’s important right now. Don’t make things worse by letting your grades go down.

After my first class, Stiles came running up to find me, “Scott needs to do something.” He leans agains my locker. 

“I know.”

“Lydia’s not been in today.” He looks me up and down slightly. I press my back against the locker next to him. 

“I know.” 

“Someone should probably go to her house and see if she’s ok.”

“I know.” I nod, looking at him.

“I-is it ok if I go and check on her?”

“Yeah of course, I’m not your keeper, you don’t need my permission.” I chuckle slightly. 

“Yeah- yeah I know but, you know, I don’t want you to be upset or anything.” 

“And why would it upset me?” I ask, knowing the answer. 

“Y/n you know what I’m talking about stop making this hard.” He groans. I chuckle. 

“Stiles, we said we weren’t going to do anything about you know what. You’re allowed to do what you want.”

“I just, I just want you to be happy.” He mumbles and looks down to the floor. I turn to face him and bring a hand up to hold his cheek to move him to look at me. 

“Stiles I am.” I say, searching his eyes. Trying to figure out what this is really about. He shakes his head.

“No. You’re not happy. You’re not even ok. And who can blame you?! Everything’s going wrong right now! And I can’t even be in a relationship with you! I can’t support you the way I want to.” Now I bring my other hand to his face. 

“You’re right. I’m not happy. But I’m still here and I’m coping. And I know that you want to do more, and that’s why I fell for you, but right now I can’t be your priority. Your best friend is a werewolf. And there is an alpha running around murdering people. I can wait. You’re batman remember?” That brings a little smile to his face, “I can’t let Gotham fall because I stole their hero now, can I?” 

He searches my eyes for a moment before tugging me into a tight hug. I hug him back, pouring as much emotion as I can into it. He pulls away and this time it’s his turn to hold my face, it has my stomach doing flips. “You’re amazing you know that? God, how did I get so lucky?” He smiles wide at me, then he brings his face closer to mine and it feels like he’s staring into my soul. “Your batman is going to save Gotham faster than you can blink, and then, catwoman,” he winks, “I’m going to come and save you. I’m not going anywhere.” I smile at him. 

“Thank you.” I mouth to him and I lean my body forwards slightly. He kisses my forehead and brings me into another hug. 

“Can you come with me?” He asks, and of course, I give him a nod. 

“Honey there’s a Stiles and y/n here to see you.” Lydia’s mom says as she walks into Lydia’s room. Lydia’s lying on the bed picking at her nails. 

“What hell is a Stiles?” She asks. I try not to chuckle. 

“She took a little something to ease her nerves,” her mom nervously tells us, “you can go in.” 

“Thanks.” Me and Stiles say stepping inside the room. I decide to let Stiles take the lead on this one since it was his idea. Lydia turns to face us and I see the lack of appropriate clothes get revealed. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“W-we were just making sure you’re ok.”she hums, looking at us both. 

“Why?” She pats the bed and Stiles glances at me, I give him a slight nod and he sits in the gap she just made. 

“Because I was worried about you today. How are you feeling?” He asks. I smile at how caring he is. Lydia moves and squeezes Stiles’ bicep before sitting up. 

“I feel fantastic.” She brings her face super close to Stiles’ and I can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable. 

Just as I’m about to say something, Stiles reaches over to Lydia’s bedside table and picks up her pills. He chuckles when he reads the label, “I bet you can’t say ‘I saw Suzy sitting in a shoeshine shop’ 10 times fast.” 

“I saw shuzy- err- I shaw-“ she stares at Stiles and gets a horrible look on her face as he puts the pills down. Then she leans down and stares at the wall, “I saw…” ok… this feels important. 

“What? Lydia what did you see?” Stiles asks and I move closer. 

“Something.” She says, and I can tell she seems to be holding back. 

“Something like… like a mountain lion?” I suggest. 

“A mountain lion.” She smiles slightly, dazed. 

“Are you sure you saw a mountain lion or are you just saying that because that’s what the police told you?” 

“A mountain lion.” She says as if reassuring someone, though I suspect the someone is herself. 

Stiles takes the stuffed giraffe toy off her desk and holds it up to her. “What’s this?” 

“A mountain lion.” She says, now seeming sure of herself. 

“Okay…” Stiles mutters then turns to me, “She is so high.” Just as he says that Lydia slumps onto his leg looking like she’s asleep. 

“Oh god.” I mutter, rubbing my head. 

“Well we’re gonna go.” Stiles declares after a few minutes of us glancing between each other and Lydia. “Leave you to the whole post traumatic stress thing.” He gets up and we walk out the room, just as I’m about to close the door Lydia’s phone rings. 

“Um, want me to get that Lyds?” I ask, the first thing I’ve said to her today. She doesn’t respond so I walk over to make sure it’s nothing important for her. I open her phone and see that it’s a text, but before I can try to open it, a video on her phone starts playing. A video of what looks like, the alpha wolf. “Oh my god… Stiles look at this!” He rushes over, having heard my urgency and he watches the video. Oh god, Lydia really did see it. What do we do now? This could endanger her further. Stiles looks like he’s having the same thoughts. 

We quickly head back to Stiles’ house and try to get hold of Scott. Stiles calls him but it goes straight to voicemail, what is he doing? “Hey, it’s me again.” Stiles starts. “Look, I found something and I don’t know what to do okay?” His voice breaks a little and it makes my heart hurt. “So if you could turn your phone on,” he sounds a little more frustrated now, “right now, that’d be great. Or else, I’ll kill you, you understand me? I’m gonna kill you. We both will! And I’m too upset to come up with a witty description about hoe exactly I’m gonna kill you, but I’m just gonna do it okay? I’m gonna… ugh! Goodbye!” He hangs up and drops his phone on his bed, 

He groans and sighs, sitting backwards on his desk chair and putting his head against his arms. I come up behind him and rub his shoulders a little. I’m about to say something before Noah knocks on the door making both of us jump.

“Please tell me I’m gonna hear good news at this parent-teacher thing tonight.” Oh god I forgot that was tonight. 

“Depends on how you define good news.” Stiles responds, seemingly avoiding looking at me. 

“I define it as you getting straight A’s with no behavioural issues.” 

“You might wanna rethink that definition.” Stiles says, trying to be humorous, but I can hear the disappointment. 

“Enough said.” Noah says, sparing me a quick smile before walking off. 

Stiles sighs sadly and looks down at his desk. I bring my hands back up to his shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly. “It’s okay Stiles, you’ve got a lot going on.” He sighs and nods, bring one of his hands up to mine and squeezing it before bringing it forward to place a quick but gentle kiss to my palm. I’m glad he can’t see my face because I must look like an idiot. 

“Ugh! Scott better get back from whatever it is he’s doing soon or I really am gonna kill him.” I chuckle leaning down so my chin is resting on his head. “No arguments from me there.” I respond, making him chuckle a little too. 

We stay like that quietly for a little bit. Eventually Stiles grabs the phone again and wordlessly deletes the video from Lydia’s phone. I agree with his decision so I don’t say anything to him. 

Soon I head to the student-teacher conference, I meet my mum and tell her I haven’t seen Scott all day. She calls him but as predicted he doesn’t pick up. She quickly gives up and heads inside telling me to tell him where she is when he arrives. 

I see Allison’s car pull up and I look inside to see Scott and suddenly it all clicks as to where he’s been. Just as I’m about to storm over to him, my mum storms out the door, clearly trying to contact him, sounding angry. Scott ducks below the dashboard and I decide that I won’t snitch right now, but he owes me. 

My mum spots Allison’s parents coming out the door and we overhear them trying to get in contact with her too. She goes over to speak to them and just before their discussion gets heated, Allison and Scott get out of the car. 

We all storm over to them and our mum starts asking where he’s been. Just as Allison’s dad tells her to get in the car to go home, we hear some kind of scream. We all run over to see what’s happening. 

People are running around and screaming everywhere, running to their cars and panicking. But I can’t see why. I hear some kind of growling and try to figure out what’s making the noise, through all the panic and cars suddenly pulling out, I separate from Scott. Suddenly I’m about 3 feet from Noah who’s trying to get people out. 

A car suddenly pulls out as he walks behind it, pushing him over. I quickly run over to him checking on him. “I’m alright, I’m alright.” He reassures and I kneel down next to him.

“Are you sure? That looked painful.” I ask, looking over to make sure. 

He pulls a gun out of a holster attached to his calf and just as he tried to get his bearings, we hear 2 gunshots. We both look over to see Allison’s dad lowering his gun. 

Everyone gathers around whatever he shot while I stay with Noah to try and help. I hear a few people mutter out the words ‘mountain lion’ and it surprises me but I have other priorities.

God Stiles is going to be upset when he hears about this. 

[typicalopposite]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

(OMG istg if it wasn't for auto drafts I would not be making this! I was almost done and accidently erased the whole thing! but it had auto saved! So here we are!)

Ooooo! I love theseeeeeee! Thank you @onthewaytosomewhere for the tag! :)

How many works do you have on ao3?

102 :) maybeeeeeeee (definitely) about to be 103 ;)

What's your total ao3 word count?

458,418!! O.o

What fandoms do you write for?

Quite a few! Let's go back from newest to oldest shall we? 9-1-1, RWRB, Shameless, The Untamed (nothing posted yet), Stranger Things, Starsky & Hutch, The Musketeers (BBC), Our Flag Means Death, AAAAAAND Supernatural! :)

Top five fics by kudos:

Zahra Deserves a Raise (RWRB)

Saved By (Not) An Angel (Supernatural)

A Summer Scandal (RWRB)

take my hand (i'll take the lead) (9-1-1)

The Royal American Wedding (Planner) (RWRB)

Do you respond to comments?

YESS!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

OOOOOOF That's easy! Smoke Gets In Your Eyes (Supernatural) It's part of an equally angst, and frustratingly unfinished, series... and is the last one so far... so it's left very cliff hanger-y :(

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

OOOOOOF! AGAIN! That's hard because I try to always have happy endings (minus the previously mentioned story...) Ummmmmm... I'll sayyyyyy Three Days (RWRB) because of how incredibly UNhappy it is in the beginning! LOL

Do you get hate on fics?

oh god I'm scared to jinx myself, but I haven't yet! O.o

Do you write smut?

Ehhhhhh.... very very tame

Craziest crossover:

haven't done one :(

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! :) Zahra Deserves a Raise is translated in Chinese! :)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yep! With @scripted-downfall quite a few actually! And Smoke Gets in Your Eyes is one of them :)

All time favorite ship?

I plead the fifth, you can not make me answer this!

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

ack! it feels like all of them that prior to 9-1-1 and my RWRB Big Bang Fic :( but in reality probably the sister fic I made for Feast Your Black Eyes (Supernatural) :(

What are your writing strengths?

I honestly don't know! I have a few comments saying my characterization is good... soooooo I'll go with that! O.o

What are your writing weaknesses?

: ; , - () ... <- *insert big MASSIVE middle finger emoji* I swear I'll just be putting them in text and I have no idea which one should be there or not... I just take pick them at random

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Should be handled with care (when writing)

First fandom you wrote in?

Supernatural (posted) Starsky & Hutch (in Docs)

Favorite fic you've written?

I plead the fifth... again!

No, ok, Three Days (that was a whole ride!! OMG) AND in a perfect world (9-1-1) I literally wrote this with only the kiss scene and like a handful of scene packs and fanfiction

and now to taggggggg @scripted-downfall, @luainthewild, @meraki-yao, aaaand @windwardstar :)

[bullet-prooflove]

The Duke's Chambers: Captain Jean Treville x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @@lovemissyhoneybee @sekretwindow @rey4kat burningpeachpuppy swanfan17 dragon85faby  @angelnyx aiko24k 

There is only one person that Captain Jean Treville gets on his knees for and that is his wife. His hands are tangled in your skirts, his fists gripping the fabric as he buries his face between your thighs. His lips ghost over your clit and you make that sweet noise, the one he’s spent months imagining.

He takes pride in your ecstasy, in ruining you in another man’s chambers, knowing his intention to bed you. He wouldn’t normally be so reckless, so undisciplined but tonight he’s not Captain of the Musketeers, he’s your husband, the one who can’t stand the sight of another man’s hands on you.

He understands it’s part of your role, a method of getting close to the Duke in order to remove the key, he holds within his pocket but truly Jean hates it. He spends the entire ball, watching you from afar, his jaw clenched and his hands clasped tightly in front of him.

You’re clad in a dress that he could never give you, in jewels he could never afford. It should rankle Jean but it doesn’t because the Duke doesn’t get to have the real you, he doesn’t get experience your joy, your sadness, you pleasure. You save those things for him.

When you slip out of the ball room, he sees the intention in the Duke’s eyes. He expects to bed you tonight, that he’ll get to experience the heaven between your legs. When he makes a move to follow, Jean intervenes, his hand clasping the other man’s shoulder tightly.

“The king wishes for you to join him at his table.” He informs the other man as he steers him away from the doorway and back towards the ballroom. “He’s very keen to hear the about your hunt today.”

Ambition, it outweighs desire every time with men like the Duke.

You’re leaving the Duke’s chambers when Jean catches up with you. He watches as you tuck the letter with the Cardinal’s orders into your bodice before he closes the door behind him. He has that look in his eyes as he stalks towards you, already unbuckling his sword belt. It falls to the floor with a dull clank as he reaches you.

You open your mouth to speak but he silences you with a kiss, his steady hands backing you up against the Duke’s desk. The papers slip from it, the inkwell clattering as he hikes your skirts up above your thighs. He peppers your throat with heated kisses, the scratch of his beard raking across your flesh.  

“Tell me you’re mine.” He whispers against your skin as he draws down your undergarments. “That I’m the only man that gets to you like this.”

“Jean.” You murmur as he bundles them in his fist and tosses them onto the floor. “You are the only man for me.”

He sinks to his knees, his calloused hands parting your thighs and he inhales because this, this really is heaven. His lips are soft when he kisses you, your breathing hitches, your head tips back and your body arches.

Lord how he worships you, he could spend all night between your legs, bringing you to climax over and over and over again.

He devours you, licking up that sweet honey before he thrusts his tongue deep inside. Your fist curls in his collar, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt and he knows you’re close, it’s in that sweet little noise you make, the way you say his name. He pulls away just before the crescendo, his fingers scrambling to undo the laces on his breeches.

“On the bed.” He tells you, his voice raw as he raises to his feet. “I want to fuck you on his bed.”

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