#well. parisians anyway.

[teecupangel]

Hello! I just discovered you recently, dived headfirst into several your fics and am so in love with them. I'm also incredibly grateful because I'm in the middle of putting a house on the market and your fics are saving my sanity. My most recent read is 'Ouverture', and I love bitter, slightly elitist and secretly disdainful Desmond. Now I have so many questions about Unity cannon (that you've cannonballed) if you wouldn't mind just head cannoning some future what if answers?

Does Arno return to France and get caught up in the revolution? Does Des come with and keep out of sight? IS Des considered a traitor by the Paris Assassins? Arno have an opinion on the Parisian Brotherhood? Does he have better Eagle vision since Des trained him? Do Paris Assassins read blue or white to him? Does he meet Elise again? What has become of the de la Serre family?

The French Revolution:

*random rooftop after absurdly flashy physics breaking move that avoided the lookout of five Paris Assassins*

Pierre: "Pisspot."

*arrogant eyebrow game at max and full permission from Des to be an asshole*

Arno: "0uncle Pierre."

Pierre. "Figured. Only one other who could hold eagle vision that easily to evade everyone with that stunt without breaking his neck. He would have kicked me as he flipped over my head."

Much love and thanks! And sorry for the long submission!

Hello! I’m so happy my fics were able to help you during such a hard time and please don't apologize. I love getting submissions and asks, no matter how long or short they are (although I am quite late in answering them TTATT). I hope selling your home is going well!

Okay, so let’s talk about the possible future of Ouverture and A New Way To Do Things in relation to Arno.

Arno will, of course, grow up in the homestead in this one. Unity officially starts 5 years after the end of AC3 when Arno is around 21 years old. Arno returns to France because he actually followed Desmond back to France (while Ratonhnhaké:ton and Clay had to stay behind for the Brotherhood and tells Desmond that they’ll catch up to him instead). Desmond returns because Lafayette requested their aid (he and Lafayette talked a lot during the American Revolutions as two French dudes doing whatever they can) and Desmond agreed to help his ‘motherland’.

This means that Desmond and Arno went back to France without the Parisian Brotherhood’s ‘approval’ so they’re going rogue (although Charlotte gets a visit and she cries because of how much Arno has grown).

Arno now calls Desmond ‘dad’ in this one too although he still calls Charles Dorian ‘father’ and they become embroiled in AC Unity’s plot as well, with Desmond having bad feelings because there’s something in Paris that just makes his skin crawl.

Desmond is sorta in a very precarious position in the Parisian Brotherhood, especially now that Sophie Trenet is a council member. A lot of the council members have a more forgiving stance on Desmond, especially after they hear how he helped Ratonhnhaké:ton take back the ‘colonies’ from the Templars but they’re not necessarily happy that he’s back. Sophie’s the one who is pushing for him to regain his old rank (not that Desmond wants it) though because she remembers him as being a good man and a great Assassin.

Desmond and Arno actually visits Bellec in prison and that’s how they reunite. Well…

That and the cannonball that ‘started’ the prison break…

Arno is officially a member of the American Brotherhood of Assassins (like Desmond) so he’s not thought of as a traitor but more like an outsider. Arno doesn’t mind though because his memory of France felt more like a distant dream. He doesn’t like to go to Versailles though.

Arno’s opinion of the Parisian Brotherhood is pretty much nonexistent. Desmond doesn’t like to talk about them, not even to complain about them. Other than say their ranking system is ridiculously long but Arno is pretty sure Desmond was being sarcastic (he was not).

Because of this, the Parisian Assassins appear as either blue (Bellec and Sophie) or white to him. They’re polite to him but also sorta cagey because he is not one of them as far as the Brotherhood is concern.

He does have a better Eagle Vision, one of the more advanced ones, actually, considering Desmond, Clay and Ratonhnhaké:ton trained him (and that means his Assassin style is a combination of his three instructors). The whole “I see their memories” thing Arno is also theorized by Clay as being a mutation caused by Arno’s close proximity to whatever Charles Dorian was carrying with him before he handed it off to another Assassin then returned to France to get his next (and last) mission. Clay believes that it’s some kind of POE and that it sorta mutated Arno’s Isu genes to be more prevalent in this case because he was still young when he was in it’s area of ‘influence’. Of course, that’s all guesswork and Arno just uses it to get more information.

Arno does meet Élise once more and it’s… well… it’s complicated.

While it’s highly possible that Arno would still hold a torch for Élise during that time, it is also highly possible that she would just be a distant memory, the kind girl whose parents may have had a hand on the death of his father (or so Desmond believed). Hell, if you want to add more drama in that front, it could be that Élise and Arno sees each other as ‘enemies’ this time around, their childhood memories being nothing more than the innocence of children that they could no longer go back to (especially with them no longer having any long history with one another so Arno sees Élise as a Templar gone rogue and Élise sees Arno as just another Assassin). (If you want to make it hurt, have Élise be the one to actually carry a torch for Arno while Arno had already fallen in love or may have already gotten married by the time he returns to Paris. To who? Ellen’s daughter Maria who becomes Arno’s childhood friend in the Davenport Homestead). Also, he’s seen as the older brother of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s children as well so, in many ways, Arno feels more at home at Davenport than he is in Paris while Élise’s father died because he couldn’t get the letter meant to warn him in time and she’s just full of anger and the burning desire for vengeance right now, with no one she can trust at all.

Also, also… Desmond has a reunion of his own to rival Arno’s Templar-connection past.

His aunt…

Madame Flavigny.

(Yeah, that’s right. The only person who knew Desmond as Antoine Faroy and his only living blood relative is a Templar, to be more exact, a Templar from the Radical Faction.)

[allthepandasintheworld]

I just realized I can’t say Rene and Alois live in my head rent free. Like, they do pay rent.

The rent is emotional support

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Unexpected Visitor

Pairing: Spencer Reid x G!n Reader

WC: 788

A/N: A lil Spencer Xmas Blurb while I figure my shit out. Also! I'm imagining older seasons Spencer for this one.

"Hi! I'm, uh, so sorry to bug you but, um, do you know where Spe--Doctor Reid's desk is? Or, really, where D-Doctor Reid is?" .

Derek Morgan had to get his shit together because his jaw almost dropped when you walked in. What was some hot piece of ass doing, dressed like that, looking for Boy Genius.

He jumped up from his chair and strolled over to where you had stopped Garcia, who was just as flabbergasted as he was. "Reid is currently in a meeting sweetheart--may I ask what you, uh, want with him?"

You raised your eyebrows at the 'sweetheart', but smiled anyways. "He was supposed to be home about an hour ago and he wasn't answering his phone, so instead of panicking, because I know what you do for work, I wanted to come in and check before I lost my shit."

"Home?" Garcia squeaked out, still baffafled by how gorgeous you looked. It was like you were sent straight from heaven, a literal vision.

You nodded and tilted your head, slightly confused. "Y-Yeah...I'm sorry why is that---"

"We just didn't know Reid was living with anyone, let alone seeing someone."

"Ah." You nodded. "He's private like that, isn't he." Your smile warmed the two of them, and you shifted the coat from one arm to the other.

"y/n?"

You turned your head towards the back of the bullpen, and Spencer was walking out of Hatch's office. "What are you doing here?"

"Being introduced to your friends and coworkers since you haven't."

Spencer bit the inside of his cheeks and walked over to you both, placing his hand on the small of your back. You felt how tense he was.

"I'm here because our reservation is in twenty minutes and you said you'd be home over an hour ago." You looked at Spencer, whose eyes went a little wide.

"Shit. I-I didn't realize what time it was---"

"I have your suit in the car, and this is why I made the reservation for eight pm, instead of Seven."

"And this is why I love you." Spencer kissed your head and rushed over to his desk, scrambling to grab all of his papers and his bag and his coat and his scarf and his--

"Hi Y/n." Spencer looked up at the mention of your name, pausing in his frantic nature.

"Hi Aaron." You gave him a quick hug, but a bright smile. "How are you?"

"Well." He laughed a little. "I'd be better if we didn't have to work the day before Christmas Eve since I still need to wrap all of Jack's presents still."

"Oh how is Jack!"

"He's doing well. finally starting to enjoy reading, no thanks to you."

You laughed at his joke, all the while Derek and Garcia just shared an incredulous look. How the hell did you know Hotch? Jack?!? Why does Jack's reading habits connect to you--

"Ready sweetheart?" Spencer appeared at your side and you nodded. "It was lovely to see you Aaron. I'll stop by some time tomorrow to drop off Jack's gifts as well as yours. I got it when Spence I and went to Paris last month. I think you'll enjoy it!"

"That's why you weren't here for two weeks?" Penelope's jaw was on the floor. "I didn't take you to be a Parisian man Doctor Reid."

"W-Well, um--"

"It was for my birthday. My choice. I love art and museums so it made sense. Well, it was lovely to meet you all but we have a reservation to get to." You gave them all a quick smile before taking Spencer's hand and walking towards the elevator, your shoes clicking on the floor with every step you took.

"How long have the two of them been together?" Morgan turned to Hotch after you both had gotten in the elevator.

"I think today is their two year anniversary."

"TWO YEARS." Garcia clutched her hypothetical pearls. "How have I not known? How have WE not known?"

"He's private, and...well. You know Y/n."

"No we clearly do not know Hotch."

Hotch gave them a little smirk and a shrug. "Merry Christmas guys. I'll see you on the twenty-seventh."

As Hotch walked away, Garcia and Morgan just stared at one another. "So we're..."

"Going to spend then next ten minutes in my office finding everything out about this mystery person Spencer has been apparently dating for two years?"

"You read my mind mama. A little Christmas snooping never hurt anyone..."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for calling my boyfriend out after a party after he very Frenchly insulted our cooking?

I (25M) am dating J (27M), and we live together. For the most part he's wonderful, super sweet, and perhaps the most French man living today. He's a walking stereotype, right down to the sexiness. He's Parisian (we live in the states) and has a huge obsession with wine and cheese, and I'll be honest, he can be pretty snobby. He was raised by some well to do old money family that disowned him when they found out he was gay and it shows. He has a few antiquated ideas of what America is like, especially when it comes to food. Anything that has roots he doesn't recognize gets criticized. It's a classism problem, we recognize that, and he is trying to work on it. He slips up sometimes.

We went to a housewarming party two nights ago. It was a potluck deal and I brought a beef chili I had been working on for like two days, it was my pride and joy, and J didn't even have anything bad to say to me about it.

Anyway, an hour or so into the party we went to get food. He had a few glasses of wine, so he wasn't quite thinking straight. It turns out somebody brought homemade Frito pie (and pretty fancy frito pie too, with jalapeños and sour cream and pico de gallo, it was amazing and delicious and I am still dreaming about it), I'm southwestern and it was a staple for me growing up so I tripped over myself trying to get at it. He noticed how eager I was and scoffed at me. I asked what was so funny, and he said it was baffling that I'd go for that first since it was "comically American, down to the fried chips riddled in it." I rolled my eyes and ignored him.

Turns out the friend who made it was standing a few feet away and overheard him. She told us that she worked super hard on making the chili and cooking the pie, and if he didn't like it, he didn't have to have any. I was so fucking mortified I felt like dying. I apologized on his behalf and we stayed for a bit longer, but I was so embarrassed and angry that we left about an hour after that. I couldn't make myself have a good time. As a bit of an apology I left our friend a container of the chili I made and said if she wanted to make a pie out of it I'd be honored, and she happily accepted.

This is where I may be TA. As soon as we got in the car I blew up at him. I told him that he disrespected my culture, my cooking, my taste, and worst of all, embarrassed me in front of a friend and insulted something that brought her joy. I said "if you see Americans as so lazy, stupid, fat, and disgusting, then why are you even living here? Why the fuck do you even wanna be with me? Am I just the only good one to you?" I was laying into him for about 5 minutes. It was the worst fight we'd ever been in, not that we get in many.

He got really quiet after that and just muttered out an "I'm sorry." We were silent the ride home and we went straight to bed when we got there. I even heard him sniffling when we were trying to fall asleep, which was heartbreaking and started to make me feel like I'd fucked up, too. He's been distant for the last few days and I feel like I need to apologize.

Do I? Was I TA? I just got so upset that I couldn't take it anymore. I really love him and I just keep worrying that any second he's gonna say he wants to break up, and I never want that to happen. Any advice is appreciated.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Star gazing with Eddie and venom, it be like a cute date that was totally venom idea but won't admit it and reader enjoying her time with them

.⋆｡Stars and Us｡⋆.

Eddie Brock x plus size reader

With no other options left, Eddie is forced to listen to his parasitic friend who’s secretly a massive romantic.

Warnings: fluff, Venom doesn’t have feelings (it totally does), brief mentions of smut WC: 1k

6k Follower Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Eddie wasn’t quite panicking, but he was close. He could at least convince himself that he had everything under control despite the end of the week looming ever closer. It was your three month anniversary. Three blissful months with the most incredible human he had ever met and even if you insisted that you didn’t need any big celebration, Eddie knew better. You deserved to be celebrated and worshiped, the only problem was, he had no fucking clue what he was doing.

The man was five articles deep on the best anniversary ideas but none of them would be perfect (or cheap enough). “Maybe she’d appreciate half a dozen orgasms and some shitty take out.” Eddie grunted as his forehead hit the desk, abandoning his quest with a whimper.

“That’s what you do every week.” Venom curled itself around Eddie’s broad shoulders, its white eyes skimming over the section on a Parisian getaway before looking down at its pouting host.

“It’s worked this far hasn’t it?”

“Pathetic.” Eddie’s head spun around so quickly his neck clicked. Venom sighed heavily and slunk back towards the kitchen. “You claim to love this human yet you do not put in any effort into seducing her. You just throw her around and expect her to enjoy it.” It plucked up a chocolate bar with a thin tendril, waving it in the air before it threw the sweet into its wide maw.

“Why are you suddenly an expert on dating? Last I checked, you barely even tolerated having her around if she wasn’t feeding you.” Venom scowled, releasing a soft growl as he licked his teeth clean. 

“You chose her as a mate, do not judge how I deal with it.” Eddie sighed and ran his fingers through his cropped hair. You would be home soon and he was running out of free time until it was your anniversary.

“Well, do you have any bright ideas on what I should do if you’re so smart.” Venom hummed, seeping back into Eddie just as your heels clicked up the hall.

“I may have an idea.”

——————

“I told you that we didn’t have to do anything today.” You giggled as Eddie helped you off his bike, his large hands deliberately lingering on your hips even after you found your footing. He just smirked and pressed a quick kiss to your full cheek as he reached behind you for the bag propped up behind your seat.

“And miss this chance to spoil you? Absolutely not.” You clung to his free arm, squeezing the hard muscle of his biceps as Eddie led you towards the empty field sprawled out in front of you. 

“You aren’t gonna kill me are you? Cause I didn’t tell my roommate where I was going tonight and I need someone to feed my fish for me.” Even though it was just shy of pitch black, you knew Eddie was rolling his eyes. His arm slipped from your hold for just a second and before you could reach around again for it, he grabbed your ass and gave it a generous squeeze.

Your surprised yelp carried across the field, as did Eddie’s accompanying laughter. “Hands off the goods, handsome.” You scolded but took his hand back in yours anyway, your fingers intertwining.

“Sorry princess.” Soon enough, you both slowed, coming to a patch where the grass wasn’t as long and the sound of crickets seemed to dull slightly. With another kiss to your cheek, Eddie pulled a blanket from his bag, laying it out perfectly with a flick of his wrists.

“Shit Brock, you practise that just for me?” 

“I was single for a long time, baby, these wrists have put in some real work.” You scrunched your nose and shoved him off you as Eddie went for another kiss.

“You’re disgusting.” But it came out as more of a giggle than anything else.

“And yet, you love the things these wrists can do.” He purred against your lips. 

Your arms wound around his neck, tugging him closer. “Oh you bet I do.” Just like always, you melted into his kiss, eagerly lapping up his affection as he held your waist to him. Just as his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, Eddie flinched and pulled away.

“Yeah, I hear you, there’s no need to threaten my liver.” 

“What’s Venom saying?” You asked with a voice full of fondness.

“Just reminding me why we brought you here in the first place.” He helped you down onto the blanket before joining you. Eddie guided your head to his chest as you wrapped yourself around him and finally looked up.

Millions of stars stretched across the night sky, each one shimmering brilliantly from their place in the universe. They clumped together like strokes of a paintbrush reaching all the way down to the horizon. “Wow.” You breathed. “I never knew you could see so many stars so close to the city. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Eddie’s fingers gently ran up and down your back as he hummed. “Yeah you are.” 

You tore your gaze away to look at your boyfriend, who was already looking at you. Heat crawled up your cheeks and you turned away. “Fucking sap.” You muttered as his chest rumbled with soft laughter.

He kissed the top of your head and finally joined you in watching the galaxy go by. 

“This is perfect Eds. Where did you come up with this?”

“Had some help from Venom. I was just gonna eat you out till you passed out.” You jammed your finger into his ribs just as Venom did the same thing from inside him. “Hey! I can’t have you both teaming up against me! I’m fragile.”

“Yeah right.” You said as Venom echoed the same sentiment, making Eddie smirk. “Will you thank it for me then, I don’t think I’ve ever had a man be this romantic for me before.”

Venom remained silent but Eddie could tell just how pleased it was. “I will. Happy 3 months princess.”

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[bosbas]

Chapter 10: even my daddy just loves him

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.5k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, small part of the dialogue in French, period- and class-typical views about the economy, idiots in love being idiots in love, heavy on the idiots, heavy on the in love

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: the first TTPD chapter title :,) also no interaction between reader and colin in this one IM SORRY it'll come soon i promise

June 23, 1816 – In the wake of yesterday's lackluster ball, one can't help but lament the dreary fashion choices on display, particularly the Featheringtons' blinding ensembles in shades of yellow. Sadly, the absence of Lady Y/N Montclair was acutely felt, as her impeccable gowns and Parisian flair were sorely missed. However, tonight at the Ashbury ball proves a wonderful opportunity for her to dazzle us with her sense of style.

“Well, don't you look gorgeous tonight,” gushed Eloise upon seeing you, kissing your cheeks in greeting. 

Your heart soared, delighted that your best friend had taken to your French customs so easily. 

“I didn’t particularly have a choice after Whistledown’s column today,” you joked, smoothing out your skirts. 

Of course, it was flattering to have the ton’s most trusted source speak about you in such a positive manner, but at times it did build a fair amount of undue pressure. Though you supposed you preferred feeling pressure to dress well over pressure to marry someone as you had with Lord Barlow.

“Either way, you look stunning. I’ve caught more than a few gentlemen staring at you already. You’d think they would have been able to pick up their jaws off the floor by now,” Eloise teased, linking arms with you, and leading you toward the far end of the ballroom. 

You politely covered your laugh with your hand, shaking your head as you assessed who was present at the ball today. More accurately, you were assessing whether Colin Bridgerton was present. 

It had been two weeks since you’d even seen him, and you were exerting more mental energy than you cared to admit pretending that you were unbothered. You supposed you couldn’t blame him. You were the one who had asked him not to speak with you anymore, and he’d listened to you better than you could have hoped. 

Secretly, you’d been hoping he would still have shown up and tried to talk to you. It was an absurd desire, you knew, but you couldn’t help it. Apart from balls like these where all you did was speak with Eloise, you had to admit that arguing with Colin was the most fun you’d had in England, and perhaps everywhere else, too. 

You hated him, you reminded yourself. And he hated you, too. Worse, actually. He had no respect for you. Or any woman in general. Which only brought you back to the shameful burning at the top of your ears every time you searched for him in a crowd.  

But you were only human. And there were times when you couldn’t help but give in to your self-sabotaging. “Is the rest of your family in attendance tonight?” you asked Eloise, trying to seem casual and uninterested. 

“Anthony and Kate are,” she responded brightly. “Benedict was able to weasel his way out of this one, I’m afraid. But it’s all for the better. He was being quite irritating at dinner last night.”

You turned to her, eyebrows raised. “I assumed you’d stay home if Benedict stayed home, too. I thought you hated these things.”

“Oh, not at all! Now that you aren’t being swarmed by suitors at every moment and I have you somewhat to myself, the balls are far more enjoyable.”

Shaking your head at her fondly, you laughed in disbelief. She was truly the only reason you hadn’t gone completely mad these past two weeks. 

Lady Whistledown, whoever she was, had proven to be quite perceptive. As she had reported, you effectively had laid your parents’ dreams of marrying you off to an Englishman to rest. You’d only told Pen and Eloise about your disillusionment, but you supposed it was rather obvious to everyone else given that you barely danced with anyone anymore. 

You looked through the crowd once again searching for the face you knew would not be there, and you felt your gut twist, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was in relief or disappointment. 

“And what about Colin?” you asked, internally cringing at not being able to help yourself. “Has he left the country again?”

Eloise looked at you carefully, noting your barely hidden grimace and shifting eyes. She would’ve laughed at how obviously painful the question was for you if she didn’t completely understand what was happening. Eloise still had no idea why you hated Colin in the first place, but she could tell that it was tearing you up inside anyway.

“No, he’s still at home, believe it or not. He just doesn’t particularly enjoy these kinds of events anymore, I suppose. It must be the ambitious mamas wanting to auction him off to their daughters,” Eloise finally responded, trying to keep her tone light. 

Although that wasn’t the whole truth, Eloise couldn’t just come out and tell you that her brother was completely in love with you and that you had broken his heart enough that he had no desire to come to ton events anymore. It would have been unusually cruel for her to do so.

Besides, she could tell you had been feeling the same way. The only difference was that your parents were not as forgiving as Violet Bridgerton, and you had to come to most balls whether you wanted to or not.

“Oh, that’s a shame, I guess,” you said, not particularly knowing how to respond. In a pathetic attempt to make it seem like you truly were unbothered, you added, “It’s rather nice when he isn’t here, though, isn’t it?”

Eloise stared at you suspiciously. Though she always thought it easier to stay away from your conflict with Colin, the curiosity was killing her. And she could only go so long before she went insane trying to figure it out.

“Why do the two of you hate each other so much, anyway?” she asked, hoping her disinterested tone would make you more likely to open up.  

No one seemed to know why you hated Colin. You weren’t particularly forthcoming with the information, but Eloise could sense that it wasn’t something trivial. Having grown to know you fairly well over your time in England, Eloise was still perplexed by this specific detail. 

Next to Eloise, you were tactfully avoiding eye contact and staring intently at the floor in front of you. You couldn’t tell her. You simply couldn’t. It wasn’t that you were worried about your reputation. You knew Eloise well enough to know that she wouldn’t spread rumors that would sully your image. 

But if you told her the truth, she’d be heartbroken. If someone were to tell you that they hated one of your brothers for the same reason you hated Colin, you would crumble. You were incredibly close with them, and knowing that they thought of women that way would crush you. And you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same to Eloise. 

Luckily, some man you’d never spoken to before asked you for a dance right at that moment. He had barely finished speaking before you placed your hand on his elbow and rushed him to the ballroom. Dancing with someone was far easier than having to figure out what you were going to say to Eloise. 

Eloise stared silently as you were whisked away to dance. She let out a small laugh in disbelief, amazed that her question had been what finally propelled you to start dancing at balls again. 

But her work tonight was not done. Shaking her head, Eloise looked around the ballroom, looking for your brother. Unsurprisingly, he was by the refreshments. 

“Hello, Louis,�� greeted the Bridgerton. “I believe you might have some information that would be of interest to me.”

“I do?” asked Louis, confused. 

Eloise nodded over to where you were dancing and smiling politely and turned back to your brother with an expectant look. 

“Oh,” said Louis, catching onto what your friend was saying. “I don’t, unfortunately.”

“Are you serious?” she responded, exasperated. “She would rather dance with that…man than tell me why she hates Colin!”

Louis shot her a sympathetic look. “She won’t tell me either. But she’s never been this upset over someone, so I wager it must have been something serious.”

“Colin doesn’t even know! And he only hates her because she hated him first! It’s terribly unreasonable.” 

Having overheard the conversation about you and Colin from a few paces away, Carlos quickly joined Eloise and Louis with a knowing smile. He considered himself to be somewhat of an expert when it came to matters of the heart, having found a true love match after falling completely head over heels for your sister.

“Yes, but Colin is completely in love with Y/N,” he said. “So, I suppose he doesn’t hate her that much.”

“We know,” responded Eloise dejectedly. “That’s why I need to know why she hates him.”

“Excuse me, we? We know?” scoffed Louis. “I most certainly did not know this. What do you mean Colin loves Y/N? I should think that I would know if someone was in love with my little sister.”

Eloise looked at him, unimpressed. “I fear you only have yourself to blame, then. Colin came to every single event on the social calendar until your sister told him to stop talking to her, and he hasn’t come to another one since. Why exactly did you think that was?”

“I don’t know! I suppose I thought… I don’t know what I thought! But it doesn’t matter. He does not love her, Eloise. I know because Y/N is the exact same with Colin as he is with her.”

This time Carlos looked at Louis in disbelief. “Yes, Louis. Precisely,” he spoke slowly, nodding to make sure your brother understood.

Louis furrowed his eyebrows, eyes widening as he came to grips with the realization. “What do you mean? Does this mean that…”

“Yes,” confirmed Carlos. “Y/N loves him too.”

“What? How did I miss this?”

---

Colin was standing in Anthony’s study, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he glared at his eldest brother. 

“I won’t go,” he said defiantly.

“You will, and you will be the perfect gentleman while you’re there.”

“Why do I even need to be there? It’s not like I know what I’m doing when I hunt, anyway,” Colin huffed, uncrossing his arms and fiddling with a quill on Anthony’s desk.

Watching his brother, Anthony sighed, exasperated. “Because it would be impossibly rude not to go. And the Bridgertons, especially Colin Bridgerton, if I recall correctly, are never impossibly rude.”

Colin groaned. “It’s one hunt without me! Please-”

“Y/N won’t be there if that’s what you’re worried about. She and Eloise went to the modiste and won’t be back until later.”

“But what if-”

“She won’t be there,” assured Anthony firmly. He had an inkling about why the Montclairs had suddenly invited the Bridgerton brothers on a hunting outing, and he was not about to let Colin ruin what were most likely some very well-laid-out plans.

Colin blinked and licked his lips, still considering whether being rude to your family was worth the risk of running into you. Resigned, he sighed and turned away from his brother.

“Very well. But this is the only time I’m doing it. I’m not particularly eager to have a run-in with the woman who wishes I didn’t even exist.”

Not seeing you for two weeks had proven to be an extraordinarily difficult challenge. But it was better than having to look at your face and know that he would never be in your good graces. You wanted nothing to do with him, and it was more than he could take. 

Even though Colin had relatively successfully convinced himself that the only reason he was upset at your rejection was because he wanted to maintain his status as the best-liked member of the ton, he’d still barely been able to get out of bed since he’d last seen you. His heart ached too much when he thought of seeing you at any events. Yet it also ached when he thought of not seeing you. So he was confined to his chambers night after night, pacing as he thought of you laughing with someone else while he sat in agony at home.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. She can’t hate you that much,” said Anthony, rolling his eyes as he patted his brother on the back, leading him out of his study.

“You’d be surprised,” muttered Colin lowly.

---

“Frères, il nous faut causer,” announced Louis upon entering the mudroom (Brothers, we need to talk).

Seeing Edward preparing for the afternoon’s upcoming hunt alongside Philippe and Jacques, Louis cleared his throat and tried again. 

“Brothers, we must have a chat. And Edward too, I suppose.”

Philippe and Jacques looked up at their younger brother in surprise.

“A chat about what, pray tell,” asked Jacques, fiddling with his hunting boots as he placed them on his feet.

“It has come to my attention that our dearest sister Y/N might be in love with Colin Bridgerton. I thought it best to discuss the matter between us before we go out and hunt with him.”

Philippe shot his youngest brother an amused look. “Well, yes, Louis. That’s why we’re having this hunting trip.”

Louis’ face contorted into an expression that was a funny mixture of disbelief and annoyance. He most certainly did not like to be the only one out of his siblings who didn’t know something. “How does everyone know this except for me? Am I truly that clueless?”

Laughing, Jacques clapped his younger brother on the back. “I suppose it’s a certain sensibility that comes once you’re married, Louis. Don’t feel too badly about it.”

“A sensibility that comes from your wife telling you that the man is obviously in love with Y/N, is what you mean, Jacques,” Philippe quipped, looking even more amused. 

“I would’ve been able to tell!” argued Jacques. “If Chiara hadn’t told me within five minutes, I could’ve figured it out. Probably. In a few days. Who cares! We still have an advantage over Louis because we’re married, and our wives are more attuned to those things than we are.”

“Carlos was the one who told me, actually,” commented Edward. “Charlotte would have been the one to do it, but she thought it was so obvious that it wasn’t worth mentioning. I doubt I would have been able to tell on my own, anyway.” 

Louis laughed, not feeling so bad about how oblivious he was anymore. “I suppose you’re right. But I still want to be included in the scheming! How is our little hunting trip going to help Colin and Y/N come to their senses?”

Philippe sighed deeply, and Louis got the impression that he had aged about ten years in the making of this plan. “Y/N has been spectacularly miserable these past couple of weeks. That is certainly no secret. And as much as it is not in my nature to meddle in her affairs, I don’t take any joy in seeing her like this.”

Jacques nodded in agreement. “Especially after what Nigel Berbrooke said to her, we think it would be nice for her to get a love match. Something that has been made much easier by the fact that she is already in love, even if she doesn’t know it.”

Although it had been two weeks since you’d told the rest of your siblings what Mr. Berbooke had said, Louis still felt a surge of anger rise in him when he remembered his words. “He’s worse than Barlow, that one.”

“I was at Eton with Berbrooke, and I assure you it was torture,” agreed Edward, crinkling his nose as he recalled his younger years alongside Nigel. 

Sending his brother-in-law a sympathetic look, Louis continued, “That still doesn’t solve the main problem. Even if Y/N does love Colin, she still absolutely hates him. Despises him, actually.”

“Actually, the main problem is that Father wants his daughters to marry a title and a fortune. No offense, Edward.”

But Edward, ever agreeable, waved Philippe’s apology away. “Not at all. It was an advantageous match for me, too. I’m just lucky we grew to love each other. But I do recall your father being quite insistent that she marry nobility.”

“Precisely,” agreed Jacques. “I’ll wager that Y/N will realize she loves Colin quicker than Father will come around to the idea of her marrying for love.”

Louis hummed thoughtfully. “But what if it goes wrong? What if Father hates Colin, and this hunting trip only makes it more difficult for him and Y/N?”

“Not a chance.”

“Absolutely not.”

“That won’t happen.”

Louis just stared at the three men in front of him, looking entirely unconvinced. “How can all three of you be so sure?”

“Because it’s Colin Bridgerton!” said Edward. “Everybody likes Colin. He’s the ton favorite.”

“Y/N doesn’t like him,” argued Louis, still unsure about how effective the plan would be. 

“But she loves him, so that’s different,” said Philippe, smiling brightly. “Don’t worry, Louis. Father will surely like him and it’ll be a step in the right direction. Now, are you ready? I believe the Bridgertons should be arriving shortly.”

---

All in all, Colin was having a lovely time this afternoon. As Anthony had assured, you were at the modiste when he arrived at your home, and he was barely there long enough to spend time looking for any trace of you. It was just as well because he feared what would have happened if he did find anything that reminded you of him.

Hunting, and specifically shooting, was not Colin’s greatest strength. As a result, he’d been mostly hanging toward the back of the group, chatting pleasantly with Edward, who didn’t seem to be very enthusiastic about hunting either.

That is until your father started talking about his travels. Truly, Colin’s biggest weakness was the opportunity to talk about his time abroad. That and you, he thought longingly. 

Colin jogged to catch up to your father, Anthony, and Jacques so he could join the conversation.

“You and Chiara are settled in Tuscany, then?” asked your father.

Jacques laughed. “More than settled, I think. Hello, Colin! Lovely afternoon out, isn’t it?” 

“Quite,” Colin agreed. “You would think it would make me a better shot, but I think this just proves I’m completely hopeless.”

Lord Montclair laughed, and Jacques felt an internal sense of pride as he saw their plan progressing. 

“My sons tell me you’ve traveled a lot,” said your father, turning his gaze to the younger Bridgerton. “Have your travels taken you to the Persian Gulf, perchance? I am contemplating investing in pearl diving there.”

“Indeed, I have,” confirmed Colin. “However, if you seek pearls, might I suggest Ceylon instead? I visited last year and witnessed firsthand the expanding pearl industry.”

“Really?” said Lord Montclair, immediately immersed in the conversation. “But wouldn’t the Persian Gulf offer the most promising returns?”

“It certainly would right now, but trust me, Ceylon holds vast untapped potential.” Colin was in his element. This was practically all he did, and he was glad it was proving useful, and interesting, for once. “The industry there is on the precipice of greatness. In five years' time, mark my words, it shall surpass all others. I've even noted down a particular lagoon in my journals that I think will be particularly successful, based on what the locals have said.”

Impressed, Lord Montclair arched an eyebrow in interest. “You have my attention, Colin. Shall we meet next week to explore this further? A partnership between us could prove quite lucrative.”

Colin’s eyes widened, momentarily taken aback by your father’s offer. “Absolutely, my Lord. It would be my pleasure.”

“Please, call me Philippe,” he replied, clapping Colin on the back. 

Turning to Jacques, your father spoke softly, “Je suppose qu'un titre n'est pas tout” (I suppose a title isn’t everything). 

—

previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

I no longer have a taglist for this fic, but turn on post notifications for @bosbas-library to stay updated when I post!

[hwangism143]

skz record (series m. list)

a/n: so. here we are. i'm finally writing an skz series. i'm also extremely terrified haha. this is a gift from me to you for hitting 100 followers. i love you all sm. also, send in an ask, dm me or reply to this post to be added to my taglist.

all the fics will be posted randomly. i can't wait for you all to read them <3 anyways pookies, tell me which one you're most excited for!!

✧.* hate to admit | (idol!bang chan x reader, exes to lovers)

╰┈➤ summer in australia before debut was one of chris's most cherished memories. his feet in the sand, the sun in his face and you in his arms. and then it was all gone. or so he thought. now that you're working for jype as a pr manager, he finds it extremely difficult not to fall in love with you - or your daughter

✧.* want so bad | (idol!minho x reader, enemies to lovers)

╰┈➤ jype was notorious for kicking out trainees who didn't perform well. you knew first hand when the company picked lee minho over you. and so, as a sweet form of revenge, you had risen through the ranks as one of the top k-pop choreographers in the industry. everything came full circle when you were asked to choreograph for stray kids. except, a certain childhood nemesis might make the lines between love and work blur indefinitely

✧.* doodle | (idol!changbin x reader, forbidden romance)

╰┈➤ changbin shouldn't want you. you're four years younger than him and work as a part-time barista at the gym he works at and a part-time tattoo artist. but it always has been said that people tend to crave the things that they can't get

✧.* love untold | (idol!hyunjin x reader, fake dating, stranger to lovers)

╰┈➤ hyunjin was enamored by you. yes, the two of you only had a sum total of one (1) conversation in a parisian art gallery but he was a goner. although, he knew, that he would never see you again. that was, until, he followed you on instagram - using his official account.

✧.* deep end | (idol!felix x reader, reverse grumpy x sunshine)

╰┈➤ it was no secret that felix loved volunteering. he loved going to the orphanage near the company for two reasons: the kids and you. you with your colourful tattoos. you with your small smile and witty remarks. you, who has stolen the key to felix's heart.

✧.* run | (idol!jisung x reader, friends to lovers)

╰┈➤ you and jisung had done almost everything together. that was the ill-fated result of growing up next to him. but when you both turned 15, he was in korea pursuing his dreams and you were home pursuing yours. finally, after 9 years, you both were reuniting. everything would be the same right? despite the wandering eyes, wandering minds...

✧.* stars and raindrops | (idol!seungmin x reader, former classmates to lovers)

╰┈➤ seungmin was tired of his life as an idol being so restricted. and so, when he happened to stumble open you in a park soaked by the rainwater, he took you up on your offer: attend your high school reunion with him. it's not like one night of alcohol and fun would make him want to see you again and again- right?

✧.* untitled | (idol!jeongin x reader, fake dating)

╰┈➤ with your company's ceo embroiled in scandal right before your first comeback, as leader you knew you had to do something. being a member of the self-producing girl group embr, you didn't know exactly what to do. luckily, your manager had a solution. unluckily, it involved fake dating yang jeongin - your ult bias and celebrity crush.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

The worst opening ceremony ever

That’s because you’re looking at it all wrong. The opening ceremonies are incomparable, for a whole list of reasons:

The economic and financial situations, both in the country that’s hosting and for the entire world.

The country hosts

The creative and production teams involved in putting on the shows.

Geopolitical tensions and issues of the times

The athletes involved

You’re expecting 2008 production value in a 2024 world that’s dealing with different economic crises, two very significant wars with WW3 breakout potential, and a rising far-right/return to dictatorship. It’s incomparable.

You have to look at the opening ceremonies as their own standalone unit. And when you consider last night’s spectacle that way, it was actually a tremendous success:

Arson shut down most of the French trains and there were enormous fears of what it meant for the ceremony, but it went off without a hitch.

It rained the whole time, but all the performers still made good performances, no one was injured, and everyone made it.

Celine Dion made her first major public singing appearance while dealing with a huge medical condition. If you don’t know the significance of Celine Dion to the French or the song that she performed, then just be awed by her commitment to turn up, IN THE FREAKING RAIN, on TOP of the Eiffel Tower to perform. Who cares if she lip-synced? It was raining! She showed up anyway, with every right to demand the performance be relocated to the flat ground under cover.

The athletes all had a good time and were excited.

The cityscapes during the torch relay showed off Paris’s incredible architecture and skyline. Name any other city that can do that and have it be so meaningful.

The bells of Notre Dame rang for the first time in 5 years, they gave credit to all the workers and trades/crafts that have been restoring and repairing the cathedral, and gave an homage to the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

There was a lady in a croissant costume. A CROISSANT costume!

They had a choir of headless Marie Antoinettes accompanying a heavy metal band that was performing AT the very same prison she was held captive at.

They lit a piano on FIRE and floated it down the Seine while performing “Imagine.”

They acknowledged France’s bloody, violent history without it being preachy or sentimental. (Watch the LA 2028 ceremony ignore the US’s bloody history - I guarantee you it’ll highlight our melting pot culture but it won’t even touch on the oppression, slavery, Civil Rights era, or how indigenous peoples were treated, much like the London 2012 ceremony didn’t acknowledge Britain’s bloody history.)

They highlighted all the ways that French culture contributed to the global community; music, literature, love, fashion and Coco Chanel pink, Louis Vuitton, the Eiffel Tower, croissants, the minions, and French people’s contributions to modern sport (as well as foreign success in French sport).

The homage to Assassin’s Creed, the Phantom of the Opera, and other famous masked French figures in the torch relay and flag-bearers.

They had an opera singer dressed as the French flag singing the national anthem from a sloped rooftop over the stadium in the rain. I had literal chills, y’all. It can’t get more patriotic than that.

Organizers made statues of important French women to display during the ceremony and they’re DONATING all of them to Paris after the Olympics! I don’t know if you caught it, but the male-to-female representation in Paris’s statues is 4.5:1 (over 200 male statues, just 40ish female statues). It’s an incredible start towards gender equality in Parisian and French history that a lot of countries could take a note from.

Les Mis! Who doesn’t love a good musical interlude?! Especially one introducing a segment paying tribute to the French Revolution. (And I must admit, I’m now kinda expecting LA 2028 to have a Hamilton nod.)

The image of Assassin’s Creed with the dove wings behind her as she walked up.

All the athletes running together for the final torch relay - more chills! (Usually that doesn’t happen.)

Raising the Olympic cauldron by hot air balloon so everyone could see.

That amazing light show from the Eiffel Tower.

and so much more.

Yeah, the can-can line was sloppy and the audio quality was poor, the parade of nations took forever (they always take forever though) and no one understood the order they were coming in (because it wasn’t explained until *after* the ceremony that the upcoming hosts are also at the end) and there’s a ton people offended by the threesome and the drag queens on the grounds of religious morality (you can see my reaction to that criticism in the earlier post below), but overall, all things considered? Considering the entire 4-5 hour show, in the spectacle that is Paris, with a terrible weather forecast, in the unprecedented geopolitical times we’re in?

It was a kick-ass opening ceremony.

[treason-and-plot]

The bad weather and the cancellation of Raj’s whale watching tours has impacted the Whale Museum as well. The only visitors since 8.30 am have been a group of elderly tourists from Shang Simla, and they didn’t even buy any souvenirs! Then Kaleb barges through the door.

“Hi,” says Mia, looking him up and down. He is dressed for the gym, and his hair and his skin are wet. He is panting slightly.

“Whew, it’s really coming down out there,” he says, unnecessarily. He smiles at Nanette who is sitting behind the reception desk browsing Parisian places of interest on the internet. She glances up and gives him a small nod of acknowledgement.

“Hey Mrs N!” he says. “How’s everything? Keeping dry?”

“Yes thank you Kaleb,” says Nanette. “Did you leave your umbrella at home?’

“The rain doesn’t bother me,” he says. “I was already hot and sweaty from the gym so being in the rain felt kind of nice.”

“Why do have to say things like that?" says Mia.

“What things?”

“That you’re all hot and sweaty. You know what that does to me.”

“Mia!” he says, with a small laugh as he glances at Nanette, who frowns at her computer screen. “Don’t talk like that in front of your mother.”

“I’m used to it,” scoffs Nanette.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” says Mia.

“I just thought I’d pop in on my way home from the gym and say hello to my favourite girls,” he says. Nanette exchanges a pointed glance with Mia. “I also wanted to ask Mia if she wanted to see a movie tonight.”

“Oh, I’m not sure,” says Mia. “I think…I’m supposed to be having dinner at Jackie’s. I’ll have to let you know.”

“Not a problem,” says Kaleb. “Alright then, I’d better be heading home. Enjoy the rest of your day!”

He turns to go and then Mia grabs his arm.

“Actually, we have a problem with the sink in the ladies’ bathroom,” she says, flickering her eyelashes at him. “Would you be able to have a look?”

“Um, okay,” he says. “Sure.”

(uncensored pics can be found on my blogger...as usual don't click if under 18, or at work, or if offended by nude pixels)

[mickeyswhore]

Foreign Beauty

A/N: Might get in a silly goofy mood and write a part 2, let me know if I should. 💕

Summary: After your father made you attend Oxford, you took a detour during the holidays to Birmingham and there you met Thomas Shelby, and the two of you got pulled towards one another.

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: toxic father, smut (a little bit though)

Tag: @mrkdvidal1989.

You hated your father now, he made you go to Oxford university. You wanted to only live in 

Paris and be able to just live your life and buy pretty dresses and have fun with your friends, but not now, you needed to be in a gloomy town with people that can’t even dress properly and that made you angry.

“Father, if you insist on me getting an education why not Paris? We already have a place there.” You had no idea why your father wanted you to pursue an education, it was only a matter of time until you were married off for an alliance anyway.

“You cannot be just a ditsy woman that only thinks about what’s on her body, you must feed your mind. End of discussion.” With that your father left you and you went to your room to cry.

How could he do this to you? Wasn’t enough that he was a criminal and you could never bring your friends to where he was? The fact that your mother left and he never allowed for you to have a relationship with her? Every single thing about your life was about your father, and no doubt that he wanted bragging rights to all of his associates of how he had his only daughter to attend Oxford.

If you had to do this, you wouldn’t be caught dead in British clothes. You told your father that you would get a new wardrobe with the latest Parisian fashion, if you can’t change your father’s mind, you would definitely make his wallet hurt. That was exactly what you did, went to Paris and ordered a whole new wardrobe to all of the fashion houses that you could think of. Your father was furious but didn't want to say anything, as  long as you were going to university, nothing else mattered to him.

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

The boat trip to Cardiff was long and dreadful, and to make things even worse it was raining in Wales, as usual. Your father’s men were waiting for you, and you had so many suitcases that it filled both cars. People in England took their time to stare at you, it always happened, you would never brag but your were a pretty woman in a pretty dress in gloomy Wales, people will stare. You got into the car and waited for your father’s men to be done with loading the cars.

The drive was boring and it was raining in most places, so you decided to take a nap. You woke up with commotion in the car and two of the men were fighting in the front of the car.

“What is happening?” You realised that the car was stopped, and the other two men were outside in the rain trying to fix it.

“Sorry, ma’am but the car broke down and we are nowhere near Oxford, we’re in Birmingham.” You saw a map pf England once and was confused, these are the men that your father employs? You took a deep breath and grabbed your umbrella and left the car, there seemed to be a pub nearby. “Wait, ma’am where you’re going?” One of the men tried to stop you but you kept walking.

“It’s cold, it’s raining and I saw a pub here. Could you please let me know when we can go?” He nodded and you kept walking towards the pub. When you entered the smell of cigars and booze hits your nostrils, and the warmth as well, it wasn’t that crowed so you simply took a booth and removed your very expensive fur coat.

You bought a drink and again all of the men and women were staring at you and you needed to get used to it. You were starting to get bored, maybe going back to the car was the best option. When you were about to leave, both doors were opened and a few men came in, they must be important since everyone got out of their way, you saw the one with the biggest blue eyes you’ve ever seen in your life and the man was incredibly attractive.

The man noticed you quite fast since you were the only one staring at him, quite unabashedly as well. He went to your table and sat down right in front of him, with a grin on his face, that made you smile.

“Never seen you here before.” You smiled, never having the opportunity to interact with people that weren’t from your father’s circle. “I would’ve noticed if I seen you here before, who are you love?” He seemed genuinely interested and you were basking on the attention. You said your name to the man.

“We lost our way to Oxford and the car broke down so I decided to come here and be warm with a drink. May I ask who you are?” You took a sip of your drink and the two of you couldn’t stop smiling at each other.

“I’m Thomas Shelby. Pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand and you shook it, and the two of you couldn’t deny that you felt something when the two of you touched. “Would you like another drink, love?” You nodded and Thomas went to get your drink, after he came back, he sat down near you.

“You’re quite forward, aren’t you Mr. Shelby?” You grinned at him and he seemed very pleased with himself.

“I have to, with a foreign beauty like yourself, someone might steal you away.” Thomas was being coy, he knew that no one would dare to talk to you with him there, but he wanted to make you feel special and also acknowledge the fact tht all of the men wanted to be with you.

“You don’t have faith that you are the most interesting?” You quickly realised that you love to tease Thomas Shelby.

“I know that I am, it simply might not be the case for you.” He wasn’t boring, you had to give him that and also confident, a man has never looked as attractive as he is now.

“Touche, Mr. Shelby.”

The two of you started talking about other things, politics mainly. But also art, and history. You were much younger than Thomas but he didn't mind it all and you loved the fact that he was older, mature and most importantly, confident.

The two of you were touching each other, his hand were on your thigh and your hand in his arm as well. The tension between the two of you was getting worse, the two of you even stopped talking just to keep looking at each other and touching each other. Thomas leaned into your ear, sending shirvers down your spine.

“Should we go somewhere more private, love?” He whispered in your ear and you only nodded, guiding him towards the bathroom.

When the two of you got there, Thomas put you against the wall and started to kiss you. His kiss was full of hunger and passion and you were more than happy to indulge him, you needed this too. Thomas started removing your dress and you removed his shirt, you were only dressed in your undergarments now, and Thomas still had his trousers. He started kissing your neck, drawing moans out of you.

Your hands went to his cock, he was painfully hard and you could tell that he was painfully hard. Thomas removed your bra without you even noticing, you felt his warm lips on your nipple, making you moan, with one of his hands Thomas started playing with your other nipple. His tongue felt like heaven on one nipple and his fingers were twisting and pulling the other, you were panting and moaning. You’ve never felt this way before, your pussy was clenching around nothing and you were so wet. The pressure on your pussy was increasing with every lick of one nipple and the pulling of the other.

“Tommy.” You whispered and a strangled moan espcaped your throat, Thomas stopped his ministrations and looked at you, he had the smugest look on his face.

“Did you just cum from me just playing with your nipples, love?” Thomas’ hands removed your panties and he started fingering you and playing with your clit. You closed your eyes from how much pleasure you were receiving but he was having none of it. “Keep your eyes on me, love.” That’s what you did, you’ve met this man a couple hours ago and he already had so much power over you. With his thumb making small circles on your clit and two fingers deep inside your pussy, Thomas wanted to make you cum as quick as he possibly could. “You look divine like this, love. I need you to cum for me. Can you do that, eh?” The noises that were being made were lewd, if you could think straight you would definitely be embarrassed by them.

As if Thomas has full control of your body, you cum again, Thomas enjoys the feeling of your pussy clenching around his fingers, he couldn’t wait to fuck you. Thomas was helping you ride out your second orgasm when you heard yelling coming from outside, the two of you looked at each other and out your clothes back on in a matter of seconds.

“What is going on ‘ere?” Thomas yelled, and the men that were with him fighting with your father’s men, you slapped Thomas’ men hoping they would stop assaulting your employees.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” One of father’s men asked you, clearly terrified that something happened to you.

“Of course, is the car ready?” All four of them nodded and if this wasn’t a sign for you to stop doing something you’d later regret, you don’t know what is.

You were about to leave when Thomas stopped you with a gentle pull of your arm.

“Leaving so soon, love?” He seemed almost sad that you were leaving, that made you smile.

“I’m going to Oxford university, if you want me come get me when you can.” You winked at him and he smirked at you.

He was going to get you, alright. With that, you left the pub to the car.

[enlitment]

The Voltaire-Rousseau Beef aka V v. JJ part III.

for @stars-in-the-night , @headsinsand and other great (and amazingly patient) readers

part 1 ; part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

7. THE ORPHANAGE (to be read in Eliza Hamilton's voice)

The one thing from his personal life that Rousseau is probably best remembered for is the fact that he gave up all five children he had with his long-term partner, Thérèse, to a Parisian orphanage. One after the other, in what could be called a rapid succession, a simple case of salut and adieu.

The reasons he gave for his behaviour differ from ‘I have fallen with a bad crowd in Paris and this is just what people around me did’ and ‘I basically had no other option anyway’ (not true, he could have married Thérèse and try to make it work. Sure, money was tight, and someone could make a few snarky remarks about the first baby looking surprisingly big for a six-month old or whatever, but these things happened quite regularly. Also, Diderot married his working-class mistress despite his father’s stern disapproval. Just saying) to – now this comes up somewhat later in the Confessions and is significantly darker – ‘I really hated Thérèse’s family and thought it would be better to let my kids be raised by the state than be around them’.

If this was him trying to break a cycle of generational trauma though – perhaps one of the side of his own family as well –  I’d argue there were far better ways of going about it. There’s also potentially one even darker, quasi-psychoanalytical reason for this now infamous choice, but it’s probably best to steer clear of Freud. Nothing good usually comes out of it.

Of course, doing something like this would make anyone seem like a douchebag, but a guy famous for writing a treatise on how to best raise children?* Guy who repeatedly argued that the single purpose of a woman’s life is to be a mother? Now that’s a hypocrisy so deliciously juicy that one simply cannot resist sharing it with the world!

*interestingly enough, he insists in the Confessions that he wanted to reveal this information in his On Education (aka Emile), and that in one of the book's passages, he alluded to this episode in such a way that he ‘basically confessed to it already’. I haven’t found that part yet, and I remain somewhat sceptical about whether this is truly the case.

8. SECOND INTERMEZZO: VOLTAIRE THE AVID HATE-READER

V on Julie, or the New Heloise: „silly, middle-class, dirty-minded and boring“

V on Profession of Faith of a Savoyard Vicar: „I read his On Education. These are reasonings of a stupid nurse in four volumes, of which forty pages directed against Christianity. They are among the most daring that have ever been written, [but] by virtue of inconsistency worthy of this head without a brain and this Diogenes* with no heart, he uttered as much abuse against the philosophers, as against Jesus Christ.“ (letter to Damilaville, 1762)

*calling JJ ‘Diogenes’ was definitely a trend in the 1700s, and what seems like V’s go-to insult for him. Calling him a ‘lackey of Diogenes’ does potentially get a bit kink-shame-y though...

9. A MOUNTAIN AND AN AVALENCHE

The last post featured an earthquake in Portugal, now get ready for a distinctly Swiss natural disaster!

To be perfectly fair to Voltaire, although he was certainly not a person who was above spreading gossip, he did have a good reason to publish what he knew about Rousseau and let all hell break loose, since...

in Rousseau’s Letters Written from the Mountain published in 1763, JJ had exposed Voltaire as the author of the infamous Sermon of the Fifty, an anti-christian work that had the potential to get its author into serious trouble. Voltaire could not and would not let this slide – especially when he had the perfect weapon on his hands. Payback time!

Voltaire therefore went on to publish a short anonymous pamphlet titled Sentiments des Citoyens (aka How Citizens Feel – since JJ proudly called himself ‘citizen of Geneva’ in his works and he championed sentiments over reason – see, it’s all very clever!) in which he exposed details from Rousseau’s personal life. This of course included the most shocking, most hypocritical, and most memorable detail of all: Rousseau, Mr. Family First, Mr. Let’s-raise-precious-children-in-a-way-that-won’t-corrupt-their-natural-godness had dumped all of his offspring into a Parisian orphanage! Not so virtuous now, is it?

Interestingly, Rousseau never put two and two together and realised Voltaire was the real author of the fateful pamphlet. It would be interesting to see how he would react had he known.

That said, much like d’Alembert’s article on Geneva a couple of years earlier, the Sentiments des Citoyens led JJ to pick up a pen once again to do what he did best: to defend the poorest and most oppressed souls against the cruel and unjust world. Which usually just happened to be himself.

And thus, as Roger Pearson, an author of one of Voltaire's many biographies concludes:

“we have Voltaire to thank for (…) being the catalyst of Rousseau’s Confessions” which he calls “one of the world’s great autobiographies”

(no, not like that @chaotic-history. Though now I cannot unsee it every time I read the quote)

->

Tune in next time for the (mis)adventure in Britain which will feature:

another philosopher - David Hume - dragged into the mess

a fake letter from Frederick the Great (that was actually penned by the most messy gossip of a person in the 18th century)

a genuinely funny statue story with an appearance from d'Alembert

[marimbles]

ok since i’ve really only whined but not actually explained my reasoning lol, here is my take on the s5 finale. (this is long, sorry)

I think we’re all on the same page about the idea that gabriel being seen as a hero, by all of paris but especially adrien, is icky. and on top of that it does not feel good that marinette is supporting that lie, even if it’s out of love for adrien. most people are assuming this issue will be resolved somehow in 6, probably by lila exposing the truth. cool. that’s my hope as well. but even if that’s the case, i still dislike the framing of his wish and what the surrounding context seems to imply about it.

it is not my assumption that gabriel’s wish included green initiatives and a reformation of the parisian school system lol. I assume that his wish was to exchange his own life for nathalie’s. but as we know, wishes literally rewrite reality. the fact is that paris improved after his wish, so it is still related. he remade the world, and the new world ended up better. It all supports the idea that his wish was a good thing—a noble sacrifice that redeemed him in some sense. my impression is that even if (hopefully) he is exposed as hawkmoth, the actual wish he made will still be framed as admirable. obviously marinette found it noble enough to agree to lie to everyone about gabriel’s identity as hawkmoth.

which brings me to another pain point: the fact that gabriel essentially won the long battle against ladybug and chat noir. i’ve heard arguments that he didn’t win because he died and how is that winning? he got what he deserved in the end. but imo, he just put himself out of his own misery, because he was on the brink of death anyway because of his cataclysm wound, and he basically escaped having to face any emotional consequences from his literal terrorism and child abuse. and even if you don’t consider that a win, you also can’t consider marinette’s end of the deal a win either. her goal was to prevent hawkmoth from unifying the miraculous and making a reality-altering wish. which is exactly what happened. so she failed her mission. ladybug lost. and to me it’s sort of bizarre that the narrative seems to be framing that as a good thing? ladybug lost, but the new reality that resulted from it is so much better than the old one, and she is actively choosing to lie in order to protect the seeming goodness of that reality.

marinette is lying, of course, to protect adrien, which does not feel out of character. we’ve seen her do this before. but it is frustrating to me for precisely that reason. the final battle was meant to highlight how much marinette has grown over the past five seasons, but her choice here highlights the ways she has not grown. starting with syren in season 2, she has witnessed how much it hurts chat noir to be left in the dark and how it weakens their partnership. in that case, she convinced master fu to let him be in the know, and trust was restored. but then she continued a habit of keeping things from him, putting more and more distance between them, till it culminated with kuro neko in s4—a total breakdown of the ladynoir partnership, where chat noir renounced his miraculous. i would have thought that marinette would learn from that experience and realize that keeping people in the dark is harmful and that even if the truth hurts, adrien has a right to know it. but she once again made the decision for him, and when he finally finds out, it will be all the more painful to know that the person he loves and trusts most in the world lied to him. i actually really appreciate that marinette as a protagonist has such a good heart but is still such an imperfect character, so i want to respect this choice as a manifestation of her flawed but good intentions. i just can’t help but be really disappointed that after 5 seasons of making the same mistakes again and again, she has apparently not learned from them, which makes me feel she has not grown the way the writers say she has.

her facing hawkmoth alone for the final battle is supposed to be a sign of that growth—and yes, I can see how she has grown a lot in confidence and capability since her shaky debut as ladybug. but i also feel that her flying solo defies one of the central themes of miraculous: that in the fight against evil, good people need to stand together. just think of the difference between the s4 and the s5 finale. in strike back, ladybug is broken and sobbing because she has lost the miraculous and feels like a failure who is all alone. but then she is buoyed up by her faithful partner and all of paris, who express unbreakable faith in her and vow to stand by her side. that was so powerful! showing that she doesn’t have to be alone, and she’s not supposed to be alone, and that part of being a hero means accepting help and working with others to achieve good goals. this message was a major part of marinette’s character arc in s4 and it’s something that was introduced from the very beginning and has been supported over and over in the show. but then in “re-creation,” she has no team, and she doesn’t need one. which … good for her, I guess? But then why did we have 5 seasons of “you and me against the world” if in the end it was always going to culminate with “I'm sure we can figure out a solution if we work together. You … and me”—referring to Marinette and Gabriel, while Adrien is literally locked in a blank white prison hundreds of miles away?

it just really kills me that in kuro neko, adrien gave up his ring under the assumption that chat noir was not needed—that he was entirely useless to ladybug. and then the narrative proved him right. ladybug did not need chat noir to defeat monarch. she just needed his ring. the writers confirmed in their recent commentary that they had planned a bug noire fusion from the beginning, and they intentionally sidelined adrien so that could happen—they even had to figure out an excuse for why he wouldn’t be there. so they traumatized him with nightmares of destruction and fear of akumatization to ensure that he would once again give up his ring and conveniently remained locked away while bug noire faced down monarch alone.

you could argue that it’s better for adrien to have missed the final battle anyway, since facing his own father would just be even more traumatizing for him. i understand that. (that’s the reason i liked that in the owl house, it ended up being just luz vs belos, and hunter did not have to face him again.) but at the same time it feels so narratively unjust that chat noir—who has been fighting against hawkmoth by ladybug’s side since day 1—has zero part in seeing his mission through to the end. even though it’s all about him. because while marinette is the protagonist, adrien is the connecting piece of the whole story. it’s always been ladybug vs hawkmoth, and adrien is in the middle of them, because he’s both ladybug’s partner and gabriel’s son.

you’d think, logically, that as the connecting piece, Adrien’s decisions would be vital to the plot. That he’d have the power to tip it either way. but instead he is completely stripped of his autonomy—literally, because he’s a senti, and also symbolically in the narrative, because he’s simply removed from the equation. Like, he’s still central to the equation but he has no say in it. It’s all about him but he’s not even present. Everyone is fighting for him but he can’t fight for himself. Everyone is speaking for him but he doesn’t even have a voice.

the finale kind of sets up marinette and gabriel as narrative foils of each other, showing how they have the same motivation—to make adrien happy. and they make the same decision to protect that goal. which is interesting, sure, but also kind of effed up to me? i’m not sure what to take from the idea of the protagonist mirroring the antagonist in this way. that’s been done loads of times, but in this context, for a child audience, i don’t know what to make of it. what kind of message that is supposed to send to the children who are the primary audience of this show? ladybug is a good guy, and in the end, she’s just like the villain because they both love adrien and want to protect him. so that’s why she agrees to tell everyone the bad guy was a hero. ????

that gabriel/marinette parallel leaves adrien to parallel emilie, which makes sense and is fitting but also just sort of … depressing and again, lowkey effed up. that adrien ends up with the same narrative role as a corpse in a coffin. almost, like, macguffin-esque—a thing that motivates the agents of the story but has no agency itself. despite him being so central to both sides of the main conflict, his decisions don’t affect the outcome. because he doesn’t have the option to make any. because he’s not even present. both gabriel and marinette made a life-altering decision for adrien, thinking it was best for him, without considering that what’s best for him is to know his own story and make his own choices. him getting the rings was somewhat relieving, but it also felt like kind of a slap in the face. because it’s like, “look, adrien’s free! he has his amok and no one can control him anymore!” but, like, how free is a person who is living a lie? will he ever experience true autonomy, or will his life continue to be dictated by the decisions others make for him? will the narrative give him decision-making power or will his role continue to be symbolic?

one thing that makes this all extra dissatisfying is that Adrien literally does not have the option of getting closure with his father, because he’s dead. maybe a dramatic reveal in the middle of the final battle would not be the best way to go about it, but now he can’t have any sort of closure. in the owl house, it didn’t feel necessary for hunter to be present in the belos takedown because he already had his confrontation with belos in graveyard possession scene. belos tried to physically control him, and hunter broke free, and spoke his mind, and as traumatizing at is all was, it was good for him to be able to do that. it would’ve been so nice if adrien also had that opportunity. if he did break free from his father’s control, either by overcoming akumatization or the control of his amok somehow. or if not that, if he were just able to have one honest conversation with his father about emilie. like he did with his alt self in the paris special. it was so significant for the writers that bug noire detransformed and spoke to gabriel as marinette. why couldn’t adrien have done that? Marinette is the one to tell Gabriel that Adrien wouldn’t want him to make the wish and hurt someone else, that Adrien has made peace with his grief, that he has learned to cherish his mother’s memory without living in the past. wouldn’t that be even more powerful coming from adrien himself? if adrien was part of that final confrontation just as himself, we could even still have bug noire play a primary role.

i get that adrien being part of the battle is a risk, since we saw in chat blanc one option of how it could play out. but we also saw in the collector another potential way adrien might respond to learning that his father is hawkmoth—charging into battle by ladybug’s side. especially if he was given time to process the idea beforehand. it’s not impossible. you’d just have to compose the scene and its buildup a different way. so honestly it feels sort of lazy to just remove him for the sake of ease? and also sort of a waste of narrative potential? the villain being the father of one of the main characters is such an interesting plot element. imagine if luke skywalker did not ever face darth vader. if he never even learned that vader was his father. or if he learned that fact after vader’s death, which was the result of a confrontation he was not present for.

of course, i know adrien is not the protagonist. marinette is. and of course i want her to be empowered by the story. but i’m getting a little tired of what i see as kind of cheap feminism in ML. like, girl power for the sake of visibility so the writers can pat themselves on the back about it, if that makes sense? this show does have so much good feminist power with a strong female lead who has realistic flaws and a big heart, who overcomes self-doubt and other struggles, and who has proven time and again to be a smart, capable leader who has earned the trust of everyone on her team. but all of that sometimes feels undercut by the narrative treatment of adrien—like he has to be put down somehow to elevate marinette. ML has subverted gender roles in a lot of ways by having ladybug lead with her brain while chat noir follows with his heart. and adrien has a lot of other strong feminine associations—the focus on his physical appearance, the expectation of perfection and obedience, his soft and gentle nature, his romanticism, etc. And one of the biggest ones is all the ways he is trapped, all the ways he is pushed down and made to be submissive. they even depict him as a princess locked in a tower, with marinette as the knight in shining armor to save him from the evil dragon (his father). with adrien in that traditionally feminine role, it would have been empowering to see him to take a leading part in his own liberation. instead, he was locked away both literally and symbolically in favor of a solo bug noire confrontation, so marinette could look like a girlboss in her cool new outfit, taking on the bad guy all by herself, even when it would (imo) fit better with the themes of the show and her own character arc for her to fight alongside her partner. but as Thomas Astruc said, “She's Barbie, he's Ken. You don't like it. I get it. It won't change. Anything else?” (X) it just makes me feel that the writers cared more about the cinematic value and feminist brownie points of that battle than its narrative significance—which i feel could only be increased by adrien’s participation. “all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing” … and that is all adrien was allowed to do.

i think a lot of fans at this point are just assuming that whatever feels dissatisfying/off will be fixed in s6. they’re trusting that the writers have a brilliant master plan that we just have to be patient and wait to see come together. idk, maybe i’m just tired. or a little jaded. i think there will be a lot to enjoy in s6, but i’m also prepared for disappointment. i honestly did not love many elements of s4 as well as s5, and i had expectations that weren’t fulfilled there either. i’ve felt let down by the writers many times now, so i expect that many of their future choices will  not resonate with me. but i still love ML, and I am eager to see how everything will unfold. i’ve also read a lot of other analyses of the s5 finale, and there are great points being made on many sides. this is just my personal interpretation and opinion. i did not like the finale when i first watched it, and after sitting on it for months and trying to evaluate my feelings and look at it logically, i still do not like it lol. if you do, great! this isn’t intended as a personal attack on anyone—just me expressing my two cents, which ended up being more like $20. thanks for bearing with me if you read all this ✌️

[baeksqt]

𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐖— elisa de almeida

elisa de almeida x fem!reader

(a/n: something small and cute for the elisa girlies (as well as self-indulgence), probably some grammatical errors so keep your expectations low, but anyways, enjoy luvvies ^_^)

word count: 598

genre: fluff

As the year ended and the football season was slowly coming to a pause, you stood on the sidelines of the pitch along with your fellow PTs, bundled up in scarves and gloves, watching the ladies’ training session that taking place in the sharp winter chill, discussing the necessary next steps for the team before they split up for the winter break. Elisa with a slight limp, as she ran, had caught your eye (for a long while at that), hoping that she knew to come see you afterwards.

Once the session was over, the young Parisian was back in the clinic as you anticipated, a small sympathetic smile lifted your cheeks slightly as she greeted you.

“You’re quite a trooper, you know,” you said quietly as you washed your hands in the corner of the room, with Elisa humming in response, letting out a small laugh as she lay on the treatment couch. “But as I said before, please stop turning your hip inward,” you scolded her softly, sitting on your stool, eyes softening as you traced the features of her face.

“Practice was great, my love, thank you for asking,” she answered back sarcastically, you playfully hit her arm, knowing that she wasn’t supposed to address you as anything but your name.

Carefully peeling the kinesio tape off her left thigh that held up her hamstring. Rubbing oil onto her soft skin, you began massaging the muscle, letting her ramble on about formations for the next set of games coming up in late January.

“The Ajax game should be alright, considering–” she let out a small shriek as you were knuckle-deep in a tender spot on her thigh, she watched your movements, glancing at the club crest on your top.

You remain unfazed as your eyebrows furrowed, examining the spot, “you didn’t tell me about this before,” you looked at her apologetically, soothing her thigh “with that, you mentioned that your calf was causing you some issues?” you questioned Elisa.

She nodded as her face lit up with a playful smile, “yeah but this was at home, not here at the clinic,” she teased, combing a hand through her hair.

“So technically, this is new information to you.” you both said in unison, with you letting out a small chuckle. Your face quickly dropped as you scrutinised her calf, seeing how tight it was, raising an eyebrow as you questioned her again.

“Elisa.” You perked up, she noticed your change in demeanour, making her sit up slightly. “Have you been doing the stretches I showed you?” you eyed her, quite serious and sombre, as you waited for an answer.

The Saint-Germain player looked up at the fluorescent lighting, scratching the back of her neck, she could feel your eyes on her. The silence for what felt like minutes which was only a couple of seconds, was all you needed as an answer. You sighed as you spun around once on the stool, thinking of whether to lecture her or to make a joke, Elisa interrupted your thoughts.

Your girlfriend quietly watched you contemplate, “I know but before you lecture me, the calf pain just never crosses my mind, I’ve gotten used to it,” she looked on at you regretfully as you frowned at her, “I promise, once we’re back from our trip, I’ll do them properly.” she held out her pinky finger as a promise, knowing that you couldn’t be upset for long.

A comforting smile appeared on your face as you interlocked your pinky with her, your matching bracelets tinkled together.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

[blueiight]

when you are on a network that puts you on a timeslot that does not allow for explicit sex scenes , how do you emphasize the thread of sexuality being a relevant factor in the protagonist’s journey? divorce-by-incomplete-blade his marriage, before louis met armand, he was in cruising parks when he wasnt with claudia or trying to be a photographer. that is my one critique of this season i didnt see articulated - in that we did not have enough time to see the times in paris louis lived. we hear him speak of familiarity to gordon parks’s methodology [implying that he knows the man or knows of him very well at the very least] and tell claudia in earnest excitement at the dinner table abt the parisian multiracial avant garde. anyways... the cruising park is where armand decides to confront louis directly for the first time after following him & claudia for five months. the physical evidence of photographs cannot be altered so readily, but the story of them remains to be told by the photographer, louis. and what does he tell us?

“pictures are outward evidence, they do not lie, but neither do they tell you a thorough story.”

[mask131]

Some times ago, I posted about the vandalizing of the Wall of the Justs at the Parisian Shoah memorial. The post is here if you are interested, and it got many, many notes, so I thank you very much!

But I hope this post will also get as many notes - because we found the guilty party. We know who did it and... gosh, it sounds like a fucking joke but it is not, and it just proves how complex the situation is, and how dangerous the times we are living are.

If you recalled the obvious guilty party, the first suspects, the ones that seemed to have done that were the so-called "pro-Palestinian" activists that in fact are just antisemitic people disguising their hatred under the pretense of "fighting for Palestine". It is well-known that the pro-Palestinan manifestations, events and representatives in France have all versed at one point or another into very antisemitic comments or actions, and the movement is currently being parasited by antisemitism - ranging from actual antisemites who use "Zionist" as a way to designate all Jews, including French-Jews who never saw Israel in their life ; to people who are taking back antisemitic slogans without knowing they are antisemitic in the first place.

The reason the investigation directly was aimed at them was very simple: the red hands, or red handprints, is a symbol that many pro-Palestine manifestants have been using recently. Which, in itself, sparked a whole new debate - about whether it is an antisemitic symbol or not. Because while for some it is the universal "You have blood on your hands" symbol, for others it refers to the blood of a soldier of Israel on the hands of his murderer, during the second Infifada... And while attacking the Wall of the Justs would have been a new low and a new step for these left-leaning antisemites (because so far they only attacked Jews, now they would attack those that saved Jews and assorted Nazi victims during World War II), it was in line with a new form of radicalization of the movement - see the "Block Out" phenomenon on Internet, a cancel culture aimed at those that did not support enough Palestine... As a personal note I will say: where was all this energy and effort when the it was time to defend the Uyghurs against their wiping out by the Chinese regime? It is still time today, their suffering is still going on... But as a prominent Uyghur activist said (I think it was Rebiya Kadeer, but I do not have my notes with me so I might be mistaken) - people care less about the Uyghurs than Palestinians for one simple reason "Because it isn't Israel that is killing us..." It is China, and as a result nobody really cares...

Anyway, I digress... So while it is known, confirmed and recorded that the so-called "pro-Palestine" activists in France are slowly oscillating and sinking into antisemitism, it isn't actually them who did these red handprints. No, they're not guilty this time.

In fact it is something I talked about when I made my original post: there was another very likely suspect which would have surprised nobody. Neo-Nazis. Because while the pro-Palestinian movement is currently crystallizing in France the entire antisemitism wave that has been on the rise for a decade now among the extreme-left, the extreme-right political groups have also been gaining terran and strength for quite a long time, and now, we have actual neo-Nazi parties very vocal and active today... Due to the ungodly amount of terrorist attacks France had to face, due to the frightening strenghtening of radical and extreme Islam in France, due to the whole endless debates about immigration in France, and due to the hyper-violent civil unrests that are clearly just to cause chaos and nothing else (like the riots following the death of Nahel Merzouk, which clearly were not about the Nahel case and just to cause as much destruction and steal as much things as possible)... Well of course, when these types of problem arise, who gains the upper-hand? The extreme-right.

And so now we have far-right candidates so popular they have a good chance of being elected as the representatives of France, and we have many groups of antisemitic Christian fanatics popping up everywhere, and we have neo-Nazi movements literaly returning like some perverted phoenix from their ashes... As such, it was thought that maybe these red handprints could have been the work of a neo-Nazi movement, who would use the current situation to perform their antisemitic deeds while blaming the extreme-left for it... After all, the two movements have been currently doing the exact same thing. Before the Hamas attack, far-right groups were defacing Jewish cemeteries and soiling Simone Veil's grave with Nazi swastika ; and today far-left activists are "denouncing" Israel by... tagging on Jewish temples drawings mixing the six-point stars with a swastika...

So, you know, the typical horseshoe effect. The two extremes are literaly doing the same things, and as such we have a hard time differentiatng one from another.

But no... Turns out it isn't them either! Turns out... it isn't even French people who did this.

And here's where the dark joke comes... You know who did it? FUCKING RUSSIA OF COURSE!

We forget to so easily that Putin is literaly sending his agents in every friggin' political or social event that goes on in the world right now... And in fact that's the whole point: Putin wants us to be so obsessed with the Israel-Hamas conflict and how Gaza is trapped in it all, so that we forget about how Russia is currently destroying Ukraine.

The investigation found out that the people who painted these red hands were three men that had recently arrived in Paris from Bulgaria... They were staying at an hotel and the very day following their crime, they left France for Belgium (Bruxelles to be precise). Now... You're going to say "So they're just Bulgarians? They're not Russians, nothing proves its Russia". Except for one thing... While yes the involvment of Russia has not been "confirmed", Putin's Russia is not known for its vivid imagination... And they have literaly done the same thing some times ago.

If you recall, I posted about it before... It happened last october. Right after the Hamas attacked the music festival, causing the whole madness we are into today, blue David stars were painted on buildings where Jewish people lived, echoing the dark times of the Nazi Occupation in France... Here is the post I made back in February, and I couldn't guess how far things would go back then... While everybody was getting scared about the return of French antisemitism turned out... It was a group of people from Moldavia that was paid to paint those stars everywhere. Paid by... a pro-Russian, pro-Putin Moldavian businessman, Anatoli Prizenko.

You can read more about this on my old post, but investigation concluded it was indeed an operation where Russian forces used the Moldavians as puppets. All to cause fright and chaos in France. When you consider that Bulgaria, like Moldavia, is unfortunately today one of the "screen-countries" Russia likes to use to shield themselves when doing their dirty chores... Blue stars, red handprints... This is clearly the same thing, done all over again.

And where the "joke" part comes out even more - in the sense of a perverse, venomous, fetid joke part of some putrid dark comedy... Russia has currently been truly harassing France through all sorts of operations, each more outlandish than the next, and yet all working in their own way to cause fear and chaos... More specifically two cases are regularly being brought up.

Case 1: The Doppelgänger operation

In June of 2023, the French authorities warned about what was called the "Doppelgänger operation". A massive campaign of Internet misinformation created by Russia. The purpose was simple: create mirror-websites to the official websites of French information networks, newspapers and TV channels. They were almost identical to the official news outlet of France, to the point many mistook them for the real thing - sometimes the only difference you could spot was in the URL. ".fr" became ".ltd", and ".com" became ".cam".

And all those fake websites shared articles about the Ukrainian-Russian war, articles written purposefully to spread misinformation about Russia. Some claimed that the Ukrainian population were in full distrust of their government and wanted to see it brought down... Others wrote that all the Ukrainian operations were disasters and failures. Some invented fake tragedies and disasters in Russia to try to paint Ukrainians as the villains. And others yet wrote about how the donations of Europe to Ukraine were either wasted by the Ukrainians, or would cause economic crisis in European countries...

Case 2: The bed bugs hysteria

In september of 2023, the discovery of bed bugs on several public places in Paris was shared on social media. Some were discovered in a movie theater, the presence of others was attested in some subway lines... The social media being what they are, it became a hot topic talked about by everybody, shared by everyone - and the facts were exaggerated, and rumors started spreading, and soon an entire mass hysteria started overtaking France. It wasn't just Paris anymore, but all the big cities that were supposedly infested by "bed bugs". People claimed to find them in every public places - every theater, every subway line, every hotel, even in hospitals...

Turns out, there wasn't as much bed bugs as the social media wanted us to believe. It was mostly a sanitary mass panic, echoing the fear caused by the Covid epidemic and fed by the worries about the upcoming Olympic games. And... and also fed by Russia. Investigations revealed that there was a lot of fake accounts, troll accounts and bots created by Russian servers and Russian URLs, and who spent their entire time spreading and sharing bed-bugs articles, writing fake articles twisting the facts, and spamming everybody with news of this mass hysteria..

This is the sore and infuriating conclusion. Remember, everyone, that this isn't just about Israel and Palestine... It isn't just about the Hamas or Netanyahu... And we already knew that, because already in Europe it was clear this wasn't truly about what happened in the Middle-East - it was also about the shadows of antisemitism and the wraith of the Nazi presence, it was about the extreme-left movement spreading from the USA university down to European ones, it became a fight about the Jewish and Muslim populations in Europe rather than in Palestine and Israel - and even more, a political fight between the far-right and the far-left across the continent... But it isn't just about that anymore, because now Putin is in the dance and Russia is gleefully putting oil on the fire in hope it will burn everything... This is a fucked-up chess game with many, many players... That all look the same in the end, somehow, so it becomes hard to identify which one does which move.

But at least we know who painted the blue stars, and who painted the red hands, and who pits the extreme-left against the extreme-right, and is trying to make sure the Jewish people of France are feeling scared in their own country. Putin and what he turned Russia into.

[tangerinesgirl]

The Hourglass

AFAB!Reader x Marquis Vincent de Gramont

Word Count: 1k

Rating: explicit, 18+, no minors

Warnings: smut, choking, slapping, denied orgasm, derogatory language, Marquis is an asshole, Dom!Marquis, Reader uses sex as a weapon, French swears

Summary: Reader is a manager of a hotel being deconsecrated. Think that scene in John Wick 4 in the Marquis' office but the hourglass is timing you having sex as well. Not a happy ending (well, for you anyways) and quite a dark fic. A few French swear words but I'm not a French speaker so I apologize profusely if they are wrong/the context is wrong. Please do message me. My first piece on Tumblr, so be kind! I have written on AO3 before though!

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Four guards escort you to the office of the Marquis de Gramont. You've heard rumours about the High Table but you've never had the honour of meeting any of them until today. They certainly made an impression on your hotel, threatening you with deconsecration with no solid proof that you've done anything wrong. This is why you're here. Since your grudge is with the Marquis and the Marquis alone, you left your concierge at the hotel, being useful and evacuating all the guests.

You brush yourself down out of nervousness, you have to admit you look good, I mean you do want to make a good impression afterall.

"Come", the voice says from inside the room. The guards open the massive double doors but don't follow you inside. The Marquis already has a handful of bodyguards inside.

Your heels clatter on the concrete floors, reverberating in the massive yet empty room, giving you a sense of power and femininity, a nice ego boost. The Marquis is staring out the window, wearing a very flattering grey three-piece suit. On closer inspection there are also small flecks of glitter. They catch the late night sun every time he moves. You thought you looked good but, damn. There's an hour glass matching the one at your hotel that the High Table so generously gave you, the blood red sands threatening to run out.

"Do you believe in rules, Miss Manager?", the Marquis has a very thick Parisian accent, you wish there were subtitles for this conversation.

"I do."

"And consequences?", the Marquis dramatically pours himself a cup of tea. He stirs in two spoons of sugar and licks the spoon, making direct eye contact.

"Indeed."

"So you don't deny you've been harbouring a fugitive?" It all makes sense now, you have no idea how he knows about John Wick staying at your hotel. There's bloody eyes everywhere. You can't deny helping Wick. You also can't seem to deny how attractive the Marquis looks right now. Or are you just attracted to his power? Or is it the suit? Maybe all three?

"Marquis, as much as I believe in rules, I al believe in second chances... and making amends", you step slightly closer and pick up the spoon on his desk, licking it in the same way he did moments earlier. His guards reacted immediately when you moved, unholstering their guns to point at you in seconds. The Marquis gestures for them to lower their guns, watching you the entire time, never breaking eye contact. He looks you up and down, your back arched and displaying your chest as you put on a little show, pulling it out with a soft but satisfying pop.

"Leave us", the Marquis orders the guards. They do as they are told. You were searched on the way in so they know you were unarmed. They probably also know of your ulterior motives and what's about to transpire, probably why they moved out so quickly. The doors clatter closed.

The Marquis taps the glass on the hourglass, the clink echoing around the room. "A lot of things you can do in an hour", states the Marquis.

"Come on now, give yourself a bit more credit", you lean over his desk to straighten his tie. He grabs your hand just before you do, "Don't think this will save your pretty little ass".

"You think I have a pretty ass?" is your take away. He throws you down on the desk, the cup of tea clattering to the floor. "Turn around". You do as you're told. He hikes up your dress and plays with you through your underwear. You let out a small moan. He stops briefly and you look back and see him unbuckling his belt. "I said turn around", he takes off the belt and wraps it around your neck. His other hand moves your pants to one side and he sheaths himself inside you in one fast motion, winding you. He's incredibly large, almost to the point where it hurts. You let out a gasp as he slams himself into you. He forces you down on the desk, arching your back for him. He grabs both of your wrists to keep them in place behind your back, still holding on to the belt. He slowly tugs on it as he thrusts himself into you. Over. And. Over.

"Such a slut, do you always offer yourself as forgiveness when you break the rules?", he babbles.

"Only for you, Marquis."

He swears under his breath, "fuck, I like it when you say my name... Do it again". He tugs on the belt again, the loss of oxygen turning you on even more.

"Marquis"

"Louder. I want all of the High Table to know how much of a whore you are", he removes the belt from your neck, and slaps it across your ass. You inhale sharply, shocked, "Marquis!" He does it again before suddenly turning you over to thrust into you again.

He grabs the end of the table for leverage, his other hand holding you down by the chest, playing with your breasts through your clothes. He feels even deeper from this angle, "I'm close, Marquis". Your orgasm is nearing, but just before you can come, he removes himself. You look at him, confused, as he strokes himself so he can finish. He lets out small moans and the occasional "putain" as he edges closer...closer... Then, he audibly cums, on your face, and on your dress. You're pissed, first you're denied of your orgasm and now your favourite dress is ruined.

He opens his eyes and tucks himself back in, grabbing and tying his belt, "Clean yourself up, fils de pute". You glance over at the hour glass, it's just about to run out. The Marquis catches your gaze and tuts. "Did you really think this would save your pathetic hotel?" The sands run out and there's an explosion in the distance. The Marquis grabs you by the neck and presses you against the window to watch. He grabs your hair so he can whisper in your ear, "these are your consequences".