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justagirlwholikesadam · 11 months ago

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Communication

Summary: Communication is very important in a relationship. Remus is great at it then you but when you finally decide to talk about something, it backfires.

Warning: SFW, Tonks not getting the hint that Remus is our man, Sirius being the best friend ever, angst, happy ending. Border Credit: @cafekitsune

Word Count: 2.3K

It’s not like you don't trust your boyfriend because you do, a lot. Remus is a trustworthy guy and he never made you feel that there was a need to worry about your relationship with him. Whenever there were issues, Remus communicated with you. He's a lot better at talking his feelings out than you were. So, when the time comes for you to speak about something that has been bothering you. It just backfires.

Sirius had come home from Paris and brought his niece, Tonks. Sirius had invited Remus and you for dinner at his place. Arriving at his home, you welcomed Sirius with a hug and asked him all about the trip. About to greet Tonks, she ignored you completely and walked up to Remus who was staring at the new pictures that Sirius had placed on top of the fireplace in the living room. You didn't think of anything at first. Tonks was probably excited to meet her uncle's best friend from school. Remus and Sirius were thick as thieves in school and they still are to this day.

Sirius calls you into the kitchen before you could see Tonks getting ready to talk to Remus. You didn't see how she tried to hug him. At the same time Remus stretched his hand out to shake her hand, politely. Tonks blushed in embarrassment and shook his hand instead of hugging him. Dinner was lively and wine was being passed around. Sirius told Remus and you about his time in Paris and how his family made fun of him for putting a picture frame of you and Remus on his night stand.

“You guys are my best mates. I missed you guys.” Sirius said with a pout making you laugh. Sirius has always been a bit dramatic, he was only gone for a week. He began to tell Tonks how he met you and the three of them became like The Three Musketeers.

Since Sirius was back, he invited both of you a lot to come over. For brunch, for lunch and sometimes for dinner. You tried to ignore the stares Tonks gave Remus. You tried to ignore how she grabbed his arm and touched him while he spoke to her. It wasn't until Sirius had a party and you saw Tonks got a little bit too close to him. She had placed her hand on his chest as they spoke. Remus kept talking to her all normal, he was oblivious of what she was doing.

When you finally told Remus how you were feeling, you weren't expecting this.

“Tonks? She's just a kid. She means no harm. A little annoying to be honest.” Remus told you as he looked at you. He was in bed already in a pair of boxers and a white tee. He had a book in his hands while he waited for his cup of tea to cool down on the night stand next to him.

“Okay but it makes me uncomfortable, Remus. I don't like seeing her touch you like that. Maybe you can set some boundaries with her.” You told him as you sat on your side of the bed.

“Boundaries?” Remus repeats with a chuckle and you ignore the heavy feeling in your chest.

“There's no need for boundaries, love. There is nothing going on. She’s a child.” He looks back at his book and you don't know what else to say. This was a first, Remus always listened and welcomed your opinion, your problems with open ears and with no judgment. He knows you have difficulty speaking about your feelings.

You spoke and he just disregarded it saying it was nothing. You felt the room getting smaller, the walls closing in on you and it was difficult for you to breathe, so you just mumbled, “Okay.”

You got up from the bed without another word and walked out. Remus calls out for you asking where you were going. You respond back to him to make tea for yourself. He looks down at his book to continue reading, not noticing the cup of tea already on your night stand. It was the next day when Sirius had invited you for lunch while Remus worked. Hugging Sirius when you met him in the restaurant, he instantly knew something was bothering you. After giving the waiter your order on what to drink, Sirius leans back in his seat and gives you a look.

“What?” You asked looking back at him. “Problem with Moony?”

Sirius quickly gets up from his seat and takes the seat next to you when he sees you crying. He wipes your tears from your face and hugs you until you calm down. He nods at the concerned waiter who brings the drinks. Sirius doesn't move away from you, he had even put his arm behind you as you told him what was bothering you.

“Fuck, love. I can talk to Tonks-.” You cut him off, shaking your head.

“No, maybe Remus is right and I’m just - I don't know. Don’t say anything.” You told him as you reached out for your drink.

“Fine, it doesn't seem like Remus.” Sirius said softly as he watched you take a drink.

“Maybe, he's just getting tired and bored of me. He wants something new. Someone younger.” You blurted out and Sirius frowned.

“Hey.” Sirius calls out for you but you don't look at him. You keep staring down at the table. He grabs your chin and makes you look up at him. You feel the coldness of his silver chunky rings on your skin.

“Never say that shit again, you hear me?” Sirius tells you seriously.

“You're the most non-boring person I know.” Sirius' arm went around you and tugged you closer to him.

“Yeah, ok.” You said making him roll his eyes at you.

“I’m serious. I wouldn't lie to you. You've been there for me since I had my issues with my family when I was younger.” His thumb caressed your cheek as he spoke.

“You're amazing and so beautiful. I really mean it. Moony just having an off day." Sirius said leaning over to grab his drink and the menu. He tells you to order whatever you want, it was on him.

“Thanks for making me feel better and for feeding me. That's the way to my heart.” Sirius smiles and hands you the menu. He didn't leave his seat, he kept sitting next to you.

---

Remus is surprised when he sees Tonks outside his apartment. He was coming back from work while looking at his phone. He has been texting you all day. He was worried since you haven't responded back.

“Tonks, hey.” Remus said, grabbing his keys from his back pocket of his jeans.

“Hey, Moony.” Remus tries to match her smile but he can’t. The nickname, Moony was something only Sirius and you called him.

“How did you find out where I live?” Remus asked her. He noticed she was holding a plate in her hands.

“Remember, I was there when Sirius dropped you and that girl off.” She said, smiling at him.

That girl. He didn’t like how she said that.

“My girlfriend, you mean.” He says your name. Tonks doesn’t even correct herself.

“I came to bring you cookies. As a thank you, you know you've been so nice to me. I don’t have lots of friends since I just came here.” Tonks said, handing him the plate wrapped in foil.

“Thank you, Tonks.” He looks down at the plate and looks up at her. Remus doesn’t want to offend her and ask her to leave but she’s Sirius’ niece.

“Want to come in for a cup of - ?” She answered him right away before he could finish his question

Remus opens the door and allows her to go inside. He turns the lights on and walks to the kitchen with Tonks behind him. He places the plate on the counter and goes to turn on the kettle. Remus checks his phone once more to see if you had texted him back, his shoulders slumps down. You haven't. He tried to think back about yesterday as he grabbed cups from the cabinets. He had fallen asleep first after speaking with you. He woke up and you had already left the apartment. You had left him a note saying you were going out. He sighs as he places the cups on the counter. He turns around and lets out a yelp when he notices Tonks is standing behind him.

“Shit! You scared me.” Remus said, placing a hand on his chest and gave her an awkward laugh.

“You’re so funny.” He frowns at her. He wasn’t trying to be funny.

“You know, I think you’re really cute. I was wondering if we should get together. Have some fun.” Tonks tells him as she touches his hand, grabbing it and placing it over her breast.

Remus shook his head and ripped his hand from her grasp.

“What the fu- Tonks! No! No!” He begins to shout at her as he walks away from her. Tonks follows him and he points his finger at her.

“STOP!” She does and stares at him shocked.

“Excuse me, I have been giving signals every time I see you and plus you let me touch you.” She told him and it hits him like a ton of bricks the moment she said that.

You told him about this last night and he just disregarded it like it was nothing. You had told him about the touching and how you felt uncomfortable. He feels like a shitty person now. He walks back when Tonks tries to grab his arm again. Remus lets out a sigh and runs his hand through his hair before placing his hands on his hips.

“I have a girlfriend, Tonks. I love her so much. She’s the only girl for me and she’s the only girl I love. I tried to be nice but I see how you mistook my kindness as me being interested in you. I’m not interested in you. I will never be interested in you like that. We can still be friends but I need to set up some boundaries. Do not touch me like that anymore, only my girlfriend can touch me.” Remus told her and the kettle started to blow.

Without waiting for her response. He passed her and turned off the stove. He looked over his shoulder at her and noticed the look on her face.

“I really don't think you love her. Why would you let me be so close to you if you did love her?” Tonk asked and Remus just stared at her.

“I thought it was just being friends. Sirius and her, we are all like that.” Remus tells her. Tonks cross her arms over her chest.

“So if you see her touching Sirius’ chest and his arm. Laughing at him closely you wouldn't think anything of it.”

“No, because I trust her. I trust him.” Remus said. “I think you should leave, Tonks.”

She doesn't say another word and walks out. The door closes with a bang and Remus lets out a sigh of relief. She left without making any trouble. He looks over at the plate on the counter and just throws it in the trash bin, plate and all.

Grabbing his phone, he decides to call you. He needs to make it right, he hated himself for doing that to you.

He smiles when the call picks up. “Hey Moony.” His smile dropped when it was Sirius’ voice.

“Hey, Pad. Is my girl with you?” Remus asked.

“Yeah, we were having lunch. Almost leaving, she just went to the loo. Everything okay, mate?” Sirius asks through the phone.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm just an idiot.” He answers his friend.

“The biggest.” Sirius adds and Remus frowns. Of course, you told Sirius. He couldn't be mad at you after all.

“She’ll be home soon. I’ll take her home so you guys can talk.”

“Thanks, Pads.” Remus said as he dropped the call. Remus waits for you, he’s sitting on the couch when he hears the front door open.

“Hey.” Remus said, standing up and walking towards you.

“Hey.” You answer back as you take your coat off, hanging your bag on the hook by the door.

“I have a huge headache, sorry I didn't answer your text. I'm going to take a nap.” You tell him, taking your shoes off then walking past him. Remus bites the inside of his cheek when you pass him without greeting him with a kiss or a hug like you always do.

He follows you into the bedroom and you sit down on your side of the bed. Remus knows, you're trying to keep your feelings bottled up, this is what you do and it was his fault. He calls your name softly by the door and he quickly walks to you when he sees your teary eyes.

He doesn't hesitate to kneel down in front of you so he can look up at you. “I’m sorry. I really am. I’m sorry for disregarding your feelings like that. I was stupid. I didn't see it before but I do now.”

He feels defeated when you shake your head. “It’s okay.”

“No! It’s not okay! I shouldn't have done that.” Remus said firmly cupping your face.

“I told Tonks about it. I set boundaries with her and told her she can’t touch me like that anymore. Fuck, I’m really sorry. I'm sorry I didn't realize at first and I'm sorry for just ignoring it when you tried to speak to me about it.” Remus feels your arms wrap around his shoulders. He closes in with a hug. He hugs you while kissing the side of your face.

“I feel so dumb now. I was telling Sirius, you probably don't want me anymore. You want someone younger..” Remus cuts you off, he doesn't believe what he’s hearing.

He says your name. “I would never want someone else. I want you. I’ll always want you.”

#remus lupin x you #remus lupin angst #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #sirius black #nymphadora tonks #angst #happy ending #harry potter fanfiction #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine

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masonmontz · 4 months ago

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heyy, how are you? :) so, since it's father's day here in brazil, i decided to do something cute for this special day

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

fluff word count: 2k

this is a bonus of pinky promise with mason and olivia, you can read it separately if you want.

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“But am I your favorite? You need to tell me.” Olivia asked Mason. You were working and they were watching Barbie and the Three Musketeers for the second time, as Olivia had become obsessed with the movie, but now she started to get bored and started asking Mason random questions.

“Yes, you are my favorite, you know that.” Mason was paying attention to the movie, unlike Olivia.

“But you have other nieces, you swear to me that I am your favorite?” She stood up from the mattress they had placed on the living room floor, then looked at Mason with her hands on her hips and a serious expression on her face.

“I swear to you, pumpkin.” You smiled to yourself watching the two interact.

It had been three months since you and Mason had been together, and just like his promise, you were happy, but most importantly, Olivia was happy, and that was enough. It took you a while to tell her that you were dating Uncle Mason, but trips to Manchester were frequent or Mason would show up in London and sleep at your house even if he has to leave the next morning.

“Don't be jealous, Summer is your friend and Mason is her uncle.” You said, still paying attention to the computer in front of you. Olivia left Mason and went to you, holding your neck in a hug while he was still watching the movie.

“I know, mum, but I like Mase and I want him to like me too.” She whispered, so you laughed.

“He loves you, Olivia, you know that.” You squeezed her cheek, leaving a kiss on her nose, which was a little red from the cold. Ever since you and Mason told her you were together, she stopped calling him "Uncle Masey", just because she understood that he was now her stepfather, but Mason said he had no problem being called Uncle Mason, because he was already used to it. “Go put on a coat, you're freezing.”

You traveled to Manchester and would spend the weekend with Mason, also taking advantage of the fact that the game on Sunday would be at Old Trafford and you would be able to see Mason play. Olivia loved the days you guys traveled as she would spend time away from home and get to know new places with you.

Not to mention the fact that Mason decorated a room for her, exactly the way she wanted. You didn't know it, but Mason and Olivia had already talked about the decoration and when you arrived one weekend, you found a decorated room. Olivia almost cried when she saw the room the way she asked.

The room was white with pink details, butterfly drawings on the wall and a huge bed just like Olivia always asked for. Mason even put a desk for her to study and a small bookshelf with some interesting books for children. It was much better than her room in your apartment in London, and that's why it was always hard to go home when she had so many comforts in Manchester.

Mason spoils her too much, and she is getting used to this life very easily.

“Mum, can you help me take a shower?” Olivia asked quietly, so you agreed and closed your computer, walking her upstairs to help her bathe. Olivia is an independent child, but sometimes lazy and most of the time she would ask you to help her so she wouldn't have to do everything alone. Plus, the bathroom in Mason's house is different, so she can never get the water to the temperature she wants.

“Have you and Mason picked out dinner yet?” You asked as you helped her take off the coats she was wearing. Even with the house being heated, Olivia liked to stay warm.

“Mase said we can order pizza.” She walked past you and stepped into the hot, running water of the shower. You grabbed her shampoo that Mason had bought just for her to use, as well as her favorite strawberry soap.

Mason has always been attentive to Olivia, he never stopped listening to what she likes, what she says, and she always felt comfortable sharing everything with him, just because Mason made her feel comfortable.

“That's a good idea. Here, shampoo your hair, do you want some help?”

“No.” Olivia was thoughtful, but the day was tiring for her, as she had fun before deciding to watch a movie with Mason. “Mum, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, honey.”

“Can I call Mason dad?”

You froze. You didn't expect that question coming from her, in fact, you never thought she liked Mason so much that she wanted to call him dad. You had only been together for three months, who would have guaranteed that you would be together forever?

“What?”

“He's your boyfriend now, mum, and I love Mason so much, I also wish I had a dad like my friends in school.”

“Babe… I don’t know, Olivia. We have to ask him about this, and what if he doesn't want to? You'll be sad about that.” You rubbed Olivia's hair as she played with the water that was falling on her.

“Oh, yes, but what if he wants me to call him dad?” She looked at you with teary eyes, and you were touched to realize that she really wanted Mason's presence in her life.

You always thought you could fill her lack of a father, but realizing now, Mason was always there for her, just like Robert.

“Oh, babe, why did you never tell me anything about this?” You knelt down and didn't care about getting your clothes wet. Olivia came up to you with her hair full of foam, and she placed her hands on your face.

“I don't want you to think I'm sad. You're the best mommy in the world, but Mase would be a cool daddy too.” It would be a lie to say you didn't want to cry about it.

“We'll ask him then.”

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“Mase, can you get me some juice? I'm thirsty.” Olivia asked Mason, who was walking to the kitchen to set the table for you guys to have dinner, and she was lying on the mattress on the living room floor again, watching Pinocchio.

“Olivia, go get it yourself.” You scolded her, knowing that Mason does whatever she wants. You were walking down the stairs after taking a hot shower, and Mason had already ordered the pizza for you.

“I'll get it.” Mason said and walked to the kitchen, so you followed him and watched as he poured the grape juice into a glass for Olivia and took it to her. He quickly returned with the empty glass.

“You can't do everything she asks, Mason. She's taking advantage of you because you can't say “no” to her.” You were serious and Mason looked at you, shrugging.

“She just wanted some juice, love.” Mason came closer, grabbing your waist and pulling you against him. He was wearing a hoodie, just like you, and he was so warm that you just wanted to lay down next to him and sleep in the warmth.

“Yeah, juice, shampoo, bedroom, toys, shoes, clothes…”

“Guilty.” Mason laughed and you wrapped your arms around his neck, lifting your head and kissing his lips. You sighed as he deepened the kiss, and it felt so good to kiss him that you could spend hours like this, just being around him. “Hmm, I love you.”

“I love you too.” You spoke and the doorbell rang, so the two of you went to the living room while Mason went to get the pizza. Olivia stood up and held your hands, walking with you to the kitchen.

“May I ask?” She spoke quietly, knowing Mason was behind the two of you, so you nodded, giving her a smile and encouraging her.

Mason placed the pizza on the table, oblivious to Olivia's nervousness, which was now transparent. She was fidgeting with her hair and kneeling on one of the chairs, and you knew she fidgeted when she was nervous. Mason served you slices of pizza while the two of you chatted randomly, and Olivia still hadn't said anything.

“I left it reserved for you tomorrow at the game, you can stay close to Anouska, she's going with the kids there.”

You agreed, but Olivia was still nervous and wasn't eating, you were sitting next to her, so you placed your hand over hers, reassuring your little girl.

“Mase, Olivia wants to ask you something.” You spoke for her, and Mason nodded and finished chewing before looking at the two of you, paying attention to what Olivia wanted to say.

“Mom, I got nervous.” She said shyly and you smiled, running your hands over her back and rubbing. Mason had a smile on his face even though he didn't know what it was. “Mase… Hm… I want to know if- hm… I want to know if I can call you dad.”

You could see the shock cross Mason's face, because he clearly wasn't expecting this. Olivia also looked at him as he didn't look away from her for a second.

“What?” That's what he managed to say, swallowing hard.

“Only if you want to.” Olivia spoke softly, and you could tell that Mason's delay in responding made her feel insecure, and she snuggled closer to you. You looked at Mason with a small smile, knowing that it was a lot of information for someone.

“For real? You want to call me dad?” Mason asked and Olivia nodded, and you could completely see it as his eyes filled with tears and he put his hands over his eyes, trying to stop his emotion.

“I want to.” She smiled. Mason got out of his seat and walked over to her, kneeling down beside her on the floor and pulling her against him, hugging her. Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck and it was probably the most beautiful scene you had ever seen between them.

Mason had his eyes closed as he hugged her, but a huge smile on his face as you saw a tear run down his face. That's when you felt like you were crying too, because a tear fell down your leg.

“Only if I can call you my daughter too.” He whispered, but you heard. Olivia let out a loud laugh of happiness, and you felt your heart explode with so much love and happiness as you finally felt complete.

“Yes, yes.” She cheered and you smiled, then Mason let go of her and wiped his own eyes, looking at you next. She jumped into Mason's arms, ignoring the pizza she wanted so badly, and looked at you. You stood up and walked over to the two of them, so Mason wrapped an arm around your neck while holding Olivia in the other arm. “We are a family now.”

“After seven years.” Mason mumbled and you smiled, leaning in and leaving a kiss on his lips. Olivia smiled and left a kiss on Mason's cheek and yours. “Can you believe it? I have a daughter now.”

“It's a big responsibility, you know.” Mason rolled his eyes and you smiled.

“Thank you for this, really. I couldn't ask for anything better.” He spoke to you, then to Olivia and smiled at her. “I love you both, my girls.”

“I love you too, dad.” Mason's eyes filled with tears again when Olivia spoke, but he held back from letting them fall. “Mum, we need to move to Manchester, families live in the same house.”

“Hey, easy girl. One thing at a time.”

“She’s right. She can't live in London while her father lives in Manchester.”

“Calm down too, that's a topic for another time.”

“Yes, now I want pizza.” Olivia spoke and you smiled, then Mason placed her in the chair again and looked at you gratefully.

Maybe it would take you a while to move, or maybe not. No one knows what might happen the next day, but you hope things will work out forever.

yourusername

liked by masonmount, declanrice, yourfriend and 359 others

yourusername It's been a great few months 🤍

↳ masonmount Love you so much, my girls! ❤️

↳ debbiemount I miss you, great pictures ❤️😀

↳ jazbenham Can't wait to see you again, the girls miss you and Olivia 🥰

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

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Learn the Hard Way 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Nick Fowler (Professor AU)

Summary: you return to campus is less than glorious.

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all.

As you watch the man storm off in his wet jacket, you frown. Well, that’s a good way to make friends. Off to a great start, Ash.

You wince but stop yourself from backing away as a blurry figure hazes in your peripheral. You look over at the girl as she silently holds out a napkin.

“Oh, jeez, thanks,” you laugh nervously. “Can ya hold this for me?” You hold out your container as you accept the help. She’s the first person who hasn’t looked at your sideways. You keep hold of your coffee and sop up the mess. “I’m fucking idiot sometimes. I was so focused on the noodles.” You glance around at the tables, “shit fuck, this place is crowded, huh?”

You crumple the napkin and reach for your container. You zero in on the girl. She hasn’t said a word. She looks anxious too. It sort of makes you feel better.

“Quiet, huh? Well, shit, I just can’t stop talking,” you smirk.

“Um…” she gulps. “I got a table…” she points over her shoulder.

You smile, “thanks, that’s nice but… okay. I guess things can’t get any worse.”

She bounces and turns, guiding you across the caf. You know how she fidgets. Definitely nerves. Maybe a freshman?

“I’m Ash, by the way,” you introduce yourself as you put your stuff on the table and sit.

“Auburn,” she replies.

“Ash and Auburn. One more and we could be musketeers or something,” you joke as you push your cup to the side and open your noodles.

“Oh, have you read it?” She asks. “The Three Musketeers, that is?”

“Nah, but I watched the movie. Oh, shit, did you see the real shitty on they made with Orlando Bloom. Fucking loved it. Trash movies, totally my ish,” you yammer as you unwrap the chopsticks. “But maybe I should give the book a try.”

She nods and taps nervously on her can of diet coke. She wears a gray gap hoodies and her hair is untamed. She’s a bit wild in appearance but you are in spirit. Besides, you don’t have any roomies to latch onto this year.

“So, Auburn, what do you study?” You ask and shove a buttload of chow mein in your mouth.

“Erm, computer science.” She answers and curls her shoulders inward.

“Awesome. I’m doing photography. More of the creatie sort. I’m just tryna push through my degree and decide if I wanna open up my own studio or what,” you shrug. “You know, the computer thing is smart though. No one knows how the fuck to use one.”

She nods and giggles. You don’t mind doing the yapping. That’s always been your problem but she seems content enough to listen.

“You live on campus?” You ask.

She nods.

“Yeah, I got me an apartment. Couldn’t afford the fees they charge at this place, but it’s nice. You know, I thought I was gonna be sleepin’ with cockroaches,” you shake your head then shudder at the thought. “You ever had a cockroach crawl over you while you’re sleeping?”

Her eyes widen and you laugh.

“Don’t ask,” you sniff. “Anyway, Auburn, thanks for letting me crash your party. Hope I’m not annoying you too much. I got a habit of it.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she assures you and picks at her fraying cuff.

“You want some of them? They’re fucking bussin’,” you spiral a wad of noodles around the chopsticks.

She shakes her head. Well, more for you.

You sit with Auburn for a while. You only leave as you see the time and realise you need to go to the bookstore before your first class tomorrow. It closes in thirty.

“Damn, gotta scram,” you say as you pack up what’s left of your noodles. “I’ll text ya.”

“Sure,” she agrees and gathers up her bag. “Thanks.”

“Hey, don’t let these other fuckers get to you. They ain’t too cool for school,” you wink and head off.

You go to the basement and weave through to the bustling bookstore. You stop to search for the course code on your phone and walk blindly down an aisle. As you raise your head to search for 208C, you collide with an unexpected wall, a waft of stale coffee gusting up at you.

You back up and look at the man as he snaps shut the book in his hand and sighs. It’s that same man from the cafeteria. Oh no.

“Oh fuck, sorry, bud,” you say. “I was just looking for--”

“You. Again,” he snarls.

“Uh, yeah, hi, it’s me,” you confirm. “Look about before--”

“Do you need glasses or something?” He accuses.

“Er, no. 20/20 according to my eye doctor.”

“Not a real question,” he sneers.

“I said sorry. Really, I didn’t mean too.”

“You know, it doesn’t matter what you mean, it’s what you do,” he retorts.

“Wow, are you like a philosophy professor or something?” You ask.

His nostrils flare, “I’m none of your business, stupid girl.”

“Well, if I’m so stupid, you shouldn’t get so worked up about a question,” you roll your eyes and turn to the shelves to find your book. “Fuck.”

“Disgusting,” he remarks. “Someone needs to wash that mouth out.”

You ignore him. You’ve dealt with idiots before. The stupid frats call you a nerd but this guy wants to call you stupid. Men are too much to deal with so the best course of action is not to. You slide out a text book and double check your phone to match the code.

The price tag nearly gives you a heart attack. It’s a coursepack. They don’t sell them sued. You resign yourself to the expense.

The man lingers and you send him a wary look, “were you expecting something else?”

He glares at you then shakes his head. He shoulders past you, nearly knocking the book from your hands, and you turn to watch him stomp away. Well, what are the odds you run into the same asshole twice? Maybe that means you’re the asshole.

Big deal. Running into him a third time is a long shot. Besides, you’re less worried about some grumpy stranger and more uptight about the cost of the paper in your hands. You’ll be opting for fifty-cent ramen over the cafeteria special from now on.

#nick fowler #lloyd hansen #dark nick fowler #dark lloyd hansen #dark!nick fowler #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #nick fowler x reader #learn the hard way #series #drabble #au #professor au #the 355 #the gray man

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ladylooch · 11 months ago

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Odds were against us - John Marino

A/N: My submission for @wyattjohnston Winter Fic Exchange 2k24! This is the first time I have participated in a fic exchange and wow has it been really fun for me! Thank you so much, Demi, for being a gracious host and your rockstar organization!

@pcttymcrlecu I hope you love this as much as I enjoyed creating it for you. Also, I am IN LOVE with the song inso for this. I listened to it on repeat the entire time I was working on this. Thank you for sharing 🥰

Song Inspo: Solider by James TW

Word Count: 2.5k

The odds were against you.

Well, maybe not right away. You did grow up two houses down from each other.

But once you moved away for college, the world seemed to keep you apart as much as it flirted with the idea that you two could be together.

Growing up, it was the Masschusettes version of the three musketeers: John, Paul, and you. There was never a Marino brother around without you. Living on the same street had great perks, like a hockey net to shoot at, a ton of legos, and endless nights spent on their backyard play set.

From the beginning, John and you had a connection. Even as his twin brother was supposed to know him the best, you always seemed to be on the same page with your buddy. For years growing up, you and John had been tango-ing with will they, won't they, before he went to Harvard and you went to theUniversity of Pittsburgh. The next three years, every time you were both home, the tango continued. Both dating other people, never wanting to ruin the friendship, finding excuses for why you could never talk about the elephant in the room.

Then, John left Harvard after his junior year to play for the Pittsburgh Penguins. You were thrilled to show him the city! You took him to your favorite restaurants and introduced him to your college friends. It was you sitting next to his brother and his parents, in a freshly pressed Marino jersey, as he did his solo rookie lap in black and yellow.

It was you who left Pittsburgh a year later.

While others in your major wanted to be at Google and Microsoft, you wanted to use your computer science degree for good. When the call came for your dream job at the National Renewable Energy Laboratory in Golden, Colorado, you knew you had to decide. You loved John, but he didn’t know, and it was hard to imagine a life where you stayed on the sidelines for potential. So before you decided, you nudged the situation to see what John would say when he was faced with the possibility of losing you.

“I got a job offer!” You exclaimed to him at happy hour.

“Whoa! Of course you did! You’re so cool.” He puts his chin in his hand, giving you googly, heart eyes in admiration. He is joking, but it puts a silly smile on your face. He sits back up, taking a sip of his beer, waiting expectantly. “So tell me everything. Will you get an office? How close will you work to the arena? And can I come to have lunch with you every day because that is a requirement. We have spent too much time apart.” Your stomach drops out of your body. You look away, taking in a heavy breath.

“That is the one downside.” You bite your lip, then continue. “It’s not here.”

“Oh? Is it like out in the boonies or Philly?”

“No. Like Colorado.”

Surprise slaps across John’s face. Then he looks away, trying to gather himself quickly.

“But you just got here and maybe I shouldn’t go...” You trail off. You hold your breath, wanting John to say something. You know this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. But a yearning inside of you begs for John to tell you to stay with him in Pittsburgh.

“You should go. This is everything you’ve been wanting. You deserve this.” John’s words are everything he should say, but they fucking sting. Tears build in your eyes and you nod. “I’m proud of you.” John finishes with a dainty whisper. He licks his lips, looking away. “Look at us.” He tries for a laugh but it comes out like a cough. “Both of our dreams are coming true.”

You want to ask him why it feels like your chest is imploding?

But you don’t.

Instead, you hug your childhood best friend while telling yourself how selfish it would be to confess you’re in love with him before you go

- - -

Three years later, so much has changed since you hugged John on that bar stool. You have been promoted twice and received national recognition for your work in solar energy. John had rough seasons in Pittsburgh, but has found a new, comfortable place in New Jersey. Paul is with the L.A. Kings in California. You make it a point to meet up with John and Paul when John visits on his West Coast road trips. John and you connect when he is in Colorado. When you’re back home, you make the commute to Jersey and fly home out of Newark. Otherwise, you’re texting daily, sending GIFs and memes and tiktoks back and forth while keeping each other abreast of your busy life.

You’re closer than ever. More in love with him than ever too. But how would it ever work?

The repetitive thoughts consume you as you stir the queso you had been making for your taco night at your new home in Golden. It has been a long, competitive process to get this house, but you are so proud of it. A dream home to match the dream job that the dream boy will see tonight.

A knock sounds on the door. The dream boy waits for you on the other side of the wood.

“Hi!” You squeal when you see John. “Welcome to MY home!”

“Uh, Ma’am, where is the owner of this home? You’re too young and single? It couldn’t be you?” He jokes, then pulls you in for a tight hug. “Thought we could celebrate.” He tilts the bottle of wine at you. It is nothing fancy. In fact, it's Cook’s, the bottle you two had stolen from your parents’ bar to have after prom on the beach.

“Let’s get this expensive gal in a nice lil ice bath.”

“There is nothing nice about an ice bath. Or that wine.” He snorts, shrugging his coat off.

“You can put that in the closet right there.” You point to his right. He opens the door, settling his jacket between two of yours. A warmth spreads through your body at his clothes mingling together with yours, gathering each other's scents.

“Don’t dawdle in the doorway, Johnny. Come into my kitchen!” You’re giddy as John's sock covered feet slide across your wood floors to join you in the open, modern space.

“Gas range?” John oos and aws at all the fixtures you show him. He hypes and gasps at all the right moments. Your cheeks hurt from grinning as you become Vanna White against your refrigerator.

“Go best friend!” He cheers as you do a little spin and dance for him. You laugh at the end.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” You tell him honestly.

“Me too. Glad we got in early.” He opens his arms for you. The weight of you settles against his chest, creating a bonded connection. John squeezes tight, his chin on the top of your head. He works you both into a sway, enjoying the weight of each other’s arms. This version of John is your favorite. The one who blurs the lines between best friends and lovers. You breathe in the fresh scent of his cologne, then wait, making him be the one to break your embrace.

“So is there an upstairs?” He wonders.

“There is! They gave me two whole levels!”

“What! Scam. It’s all a scam.”

“Look at my wall of pictures.” You point out as you head up the stairs. There is a whole gallery wall of frames and people, many of which John is in. Paul too.

“I know these people!” He grins, looking at their decades of memories. “My favorite night.” He points to a picture. It’s the New Year's Eve you were pretty sure you almost kissed.

“Mmm, it’s up there for sure.” You agree, waiting for him. His eyes trace the memory like he wants to burn it into the membrane of his brain. Then he turns to you, grabbing your hand and leading you up the stairs, becoming the tour guide.

“So up here we have uh…” He looks around. “An office!”

“Oh! And a standing desk?! She works on her fitness.” You fill in.

“We have very different definitions of fitness.”

“I hope so, NHL player.”

“And over here,” He tugs you by your fingers. “We have a guest room. You would never have blue as your color. It is not boring enough. This can’t be your room.”

“Shut up! I love neutrals! They’re in!” You shove at him as he howls with laughter.

“Paul’s room for when he comes to visit. Your parents and sister too.” You can’t help but notice John doesn’t include himself in that.

“Oh here we go.” He gets to your room, pushing the cracked door open to expose your favorite space in the house. He pauses in the doorway, taking it in.

Two lamps on either side of the bed illuminate the room as the sun sets behind the mountains outside. Your white walls are warmed by their dim light. The bed is made with a plush, white comforter and a light tan blanket draped along the foot of the bed. The walls had been painted the faintest of olive green. Various shades of cream and tan pillows create the look of a bed you want to jump into to mess it all up. A black and white picture of waves sliding onto a Nantucket beach is above the headboard.

John has gone still and silent. You are nervous as he continues to look around the comfy oasis you have created as your escape from the world. You were meticulous in your quest for homey, comfort items that would dull the sometimes harsh world out there. Does he hate it?

“What do you think?” You finally ask.

“Honestly?” He murmurs.

“Yes!” You giggle, trying to cross the distance you feel separating you.

“I wish this was our house.”

You freeze. John keeps looking at the bed, eyes ravenous over the clean bedding like he is seeing something else.

“I wish this was our bed.” He sighs. “I wish I was the one who got to sleep here with you because this is so clearly your dream house and I wish I was your dream man.” He stands there with his hands in his pockets, still not looking at you. This is when you realize he really doesn’t know. How does he not know?

“You are.” You whisper.

It’s John’s turn to be still and dumbfounded.

“You’re my dream man, Johnny.”

You bite your lip and John rushes towards you. His hands grip your face, tugging you into his lips. Your head falls back, delirious at his mouth finally being on yours. He holds your head up, working his lips to an angle so his tongue can devour your mouth. You never want to breathe again. His tongue and lips on yours are everything you’ve ever wanted. How will you stop?

Need takes over and you break apart begrudgingly. John rests his forehead on yours, thumbs delicately stroking your cheek bones.

“I’m in love with you, Johnny.”

“Good. Cause I am deliriously in love with you. And I’m sick of not telling you that every day.” You grin, inhaling heavily as tears fill your eyes.

“How are we going to do this?”

“I don’t know.” John sighs, gripping your face tighter in his fingers, like that will stop the rest of reality from intruding on your moment.

“I’m scared. We live so far apart. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

“We’ll have to be brave, sweetheart.”

Being brave is your second act.

The next 6 months you navigate the journey from friends to lovers while trying to mitigate the 1,700 miles that separate you. A 2 hour time zone difference weighs heavily on your relationship, along with two careers that threaten to ground you before your relationship even has a chance to take off. Then the off-season comes and John decides to train in Colorado with local NHL players at altitude, convinced it will give him that next step in his game.

The season begins again and your bed is as empty as it was before. You’re miserable. Lonelier than you’ve ever been and it spews mean thoughts in your brain at all hours of the night. John feels the same. You both discuss it openly, but neither of you have solutions for this next roadblock. Something will have to give, you both know it, but neither of you can speak it.

Right before Thanksgiving, your fist feels heavy against his Jersey City apartment door. He isn’t expecting you, but the relieved sigh when he has you in his arms tells you how welcome you are here. He ushers you in, pasting his lips against your skin as you try to set your bag down.

“What are you doing here?”

“Accepting my job offer.” John bolts up.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, babe. Don’t do this for me.”

“I’m not going to pretend it isn’t because of you. Of course it is. But this is a really good career move for me too. We can have it all.”

“Your house-”

“-will always just be my house. I’m ready to upgrade to our house.” You lock your hands around his neck, fingers guzzling up every bit of warmth from his skin. “I know what I want to do in my life and it’s to be where you are.” John groans then hugs you into his chest desperately.

In another month, you cut those 1700 miles down to 0. You and John move into your new place together. While you’re unpacking the neutral bedroom decor he makes fun of, John walks in then pops down to one knee.

“Can’t wait another minute.” He confesses. “I’ve been downstairs trying to talk myself out of doing it and why? For what? Because there isn’t an audience? There isn’t a photographer? Your nails aren’t done? That’s not us. This is us. So, marry me?” Your bottom lip quivers. A blink sends tear tracks down your face as you nod enthusiastically, telling the man, who is still your dream boy, “YES” you will marry him!

The wedding is a fast plan, you need to do it in the off-season and neither of you care for anything super fancy anyway. It’s a quaint ceremony on a similar Nantucket beach that hangs above your now shared bed. You and John stare in awe as you take turns reciting written vows that may as well be a decades long love letter to each other.

“Let’s keep betting on us, baby.” John finishes. You laugh, nodding vigorously.

When it’s time to seal the deal, John winds his hand around your waist, then tilts you down, kissing you so fully that you’re dazed when he brings you back up.

Like it has for thousands of years, a kiss between two lovers seals your fate.

It’s been decided.

A forever commitment.

One that binds you and John as partners, who keep bending the odds and winning anyway.

#the winter fic exchange 2k24 #John Marino x reader #John Marino Imagine #NHL imagine

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 years ago

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fictional girls who should have been gay

Minnie Mouse and Daisy Duck, from the 2004 "Micky, Donald, Goofy: The Three Musketeers" animated movie.

The situation: GAY

Princess and lady-in-waiting. Is there anything more intimate and potentially gay than a girl and the girl who she specifically keeps around just to officially hang out with? I don't care I love it.

they are the most romantic thing in this movie

Their introduction scene is Minnie sighing over her future love (hypothetical and male and not necessarily royal) while blowing flower petals in Daisy's face

Daisy has reservations

but when Minnie is explaining True Love to her (while they hold hands and twirl around the room)

Minnie says she'll know her true love because she'll hear music (sentimental music is now playing) and they'll make her laugh- AND THEN DAISY LAUGHS

she starts saying that sounds silly...

but Minnie looks at her, and flutters her eyes at her...

and Daisy just MELTS. She clasps her hands over her heart and switches to sighing that that sounds lovely...

who drew and directed that and didn't notice how much it looks like Daisy just fell in love with Minnie. hey. I want to know

did they realize they could've had Daisy staring at something else?

a painting of young lovers. a couple passing by the window. even the sad bedraggled flower Minnie had been using for a game of he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not

(i cannot get over how the flower wilts the last time we see it, right after Minnie says "trust me Daisy, I'll know him, when I see him)

(I understand it's meant to be like, oh look the flower looks like Micky now she'll know him when she sees him- but it could also look like HER, Minnie is talking to Daisy about true love and knowing it when it's there but oh the IRONY if Daisy was in love with HER while she says that!!! With Minnie having no idea!!!!)

anyway

how about just not have Minnie flutter her eyelashes at Daisy like that

have HER not be looking at Daisy when she's talking about true love

anything. anything else would have worked better

Well apparently none of those options occurred to the film makers because these girls are supposed to be STRAIGHT somehow

(Minnie, princess of prolonged held eye contact)

(and Daisy, lady of keeps having to look away when Minnie is staring at her Like That)

Moments later, after a montage of Minnie strolling around the gardens dreaming of love (to the tune of a song about young love), an attempt on her life is thwarted by DAISY asking her to come over for a moment, moving Minnie out of the path of a falling safe meant to crush her

(by the way, holy heck it feels honestly scary. it just. DROPS)

The song lyric leading up to Daisy calling out for Minnie is "Your first your only love~! Love so-" (can't hear properly)

Minnie being willing to leave her daydreams of love for Daisy no questions asked is what saves her actual literal life I'm sorry but again why did they think having Daisy being the reason she lives was so important. This is a Micky Mouse cartoon legit just have Minnie stand up on her own and wander out of harm's way or get distracted by a flower or something but NOOOOO it's DAISY who unknowingly gets her out of danger, it's Minnie listening to her that saves her. ARGH IT COULD HAVE MEANT SO MUCH BUT

Minnie has actual whole conversations with Daisy. Actual. Talking. Sharing of thoughts and opinions. Chances to see their personalities and how they play off each other.

Princess Minnie, the slightly head in the clouds princess, and Daisy, grounded and a bit dry

Minnie: He loves me. He loves me… a lot. He loves me. He loves me even moooore. He loves me...

Daisy: Pardon me, Your Highness… (blows some free-floating petals off her face) you‘re, kinda mangling that flower.

like there's this set up for Minnie being rebellious enough to reject tradition and rules, being annoyed at them for cramping her style

Daisy: This, fantasy man- (the exasperation on those two words XD), d'you happen to know if he's royalty?

Minnie: Does it matter?

Daisy, breathlessly: Well, as you know, someone of your, royal stature, needs to be courted by a gentleman of royal blood.

Minnie: What a royal pain.

It's supposed to be about getting with a commoner instead, but... HMM I WONDER WHAT OTHER SOCIAL EXPECTATIONS MINNIE COULD BREAK.

A gentleman of royal blood? Well what if it's not! A gentleman!!

Minnie: Daisy, I can't marry someone I'm not in love with.

Daisy: You want love? Buy a dog.

the delicious set up as Daisy as jaded and practical BUT moments later she can't help herself with Minnie, she can't ruin Minnie's little happy bubble, she can't keep pushing Minnie away from her dream

When Minnie gazes at her all warm and mushy, Daisy has to giggle and admit that the idea of a true love who makes you laugh is just Lovely, actually

she says, while staring back at Minnie

WRITERS I WANT TO TALK WITH YOU I JUST WANT TO CHAT

but anyway, they have a flow, a rapport, they play off each other and clearly care about each other and, meanwhile, M e a n w h i l e

meanwhile, nearly all the time Minnie spends "being in love" with Micky is done in silent daydream episodes where they float on clouds and stuff. They get a montage of vague cute stuff. It's a whole lot of Nothing. Very pretty! But nothing

They see each other and it's supposed to be love at first sight. Whee. I'd find it cute if Minnie didn't already have someone and Micky wasn't mostly focused on being a good Musketeer. What do they give each other? They hardly even TALK! At the end of the movie I still have no idea how they'd get through a simple conversation! As a crush sure it reads fine- but true love? Where? When????

MOMENTS after meeting and "falling for" Micky, Minnie is yelling at him and his friends, furious because they accidently attacked Daisy thinking she was a threat

wow good job showing us Minnie's priorities here. Good job showing us she cares about Daisy

good job not using that to let her and Micky like, talk, or anything

Daisy, meanwhile, spends the whole movie with 0% interest in Donald at all, nothing but burns and scorn, only getting with him in the last moments literally just because why not

As in that's honestly the reason the movie gives. Not that she likes him. Just. Why not.

my eye is twitching

MINNIE LOVES THE IDEA OF A FORBIDDON LOVE!

SHE SAYS, SHE SAYS-

Minnie: Our love is, forbidden?

Daisy: Bin-go~

Minnie: A forbidden love? How romantic...!

girl you've had 1 (ONE) interaction with "the little one" like props to you for liking a short king but hey, heeey, this is so not selling the love vibes ok

GUESS WHAT OTHER LOVE WOULD BE FORBIDDEN

HMM I WONDER

Minnie: Look, Daisy. Mickey and I have the same last name!

Daisy: Well, it must be destiny. Good thing destiny doesn’t control my love life.

(daisy being practical jaded or daisy using code for 'yeeeah, im prim and proper in everything else, but im going against the flow when it comes to romance)

Minnie: What do you mean?

Daisy: Well, look at me! If it did, I’d get stuck with Mister… (squawking and babbling)

Minnie & Daisy: (laughing together)

hey remember how Minnie laughed when Micky rolled a nat 0 trying to untie her and the narrator was like "Oh he made her laugh! It must be love!"

remember when Daisy makes Minnie laugh with a Donald Duck impersonation? While they were in bed together??

NARRATOR IF A LAUGH IS ALL IT TAKES THEN CHIME IN PLEASE

Do You Remember when Micky and co failed and Minnie was kidnapped by badguys and Micky had a moment of slump before getting his second wind? Was he motivated by thoughts of his True Love? Was he thinking of Minnie when he decided not to give up on saving her??

NO.

he was looking at his friends being sad.

He encourages himself thinking about how the captain of the guard chose him and his friends to be musketeers

No Mention Of Minnie At All, Aside From A Quest To Be Cleared

wow much love such devotion

The point of Micky's story is him wanting to be a Musketeer. The emotional climax is always between him and his two friends. THE ROMANCE IS SO WEIRD IT DOES NOTHING AND COMES FROM NOTHING AND GOES NOWHERE.

Minnie has no character growth no obstacles nothing to do. she was ready to throw tradition aside for the man of her dreams the moment we saw her-

IMAGINE the crunchiness if she had either a moment of "wait actually, i think he's cute but this isn't love" OR "hey wait all this time I've been dreaming of a guy maybe it's not a guy though? Tee hee let's destroy some more social norms!"

(don't for the love of all things bring up lines of succession this is alternate universe france in the 1600-1700's there is a Lot To Gloss Over Okay)

And Daisy is RIGHT THERE.

Not interested in guys! Sighing over Minnie! Staying with her throughout the whole movie because apparently you can't kidnap the princess without her lady in waiting!

RAAAGH. I know, I know Disney and gay don't mix, especially in 2004- but why why why why did they think Minnie had to be with Micky in this one? Why did they make the emptiest crush ever instead of just letting Minnie and Daisy chill up on the throne dais together? IM IN PAIN EVERY TIME I REWATCH THIS.

tldr: Daisy was in love with princess Minnie, and if Minnie had known she's the exact sort of rebel princess to just marry her lady-in-waiting like a boss

#Princess Minnie Mouse #Daisy Duck #Minsy #rant #disney femslash #is that still a thing ?#GAY #huh so there's a name for this ship #cool

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moonlight-records · 1 month ago

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Three Musketeers Unite| LN4

pairing: ln4 + (2/4) wilson siblings

summary: Lando gets a flat on his adventure prior to the Austin GP and finds himself stuck. Luckily, he finds not only help but maybe a new friend

warning: fluff!! platonic relationships, golden retriever & black cat bestie, the 'person a doesn't know / care bout person b being famous and person b loving it'

fc: Kit Connor & Desreii on instagram

wc: 1.9k

a/n: stared writing bout my ocs and f1 drivers. these two are my ever first ocs and i love them sm. posting this just for fun!

“…Are you gonna fuck the British or—“

“Blake.”

“What?”

Blake turns to Candi, staring at him, unamused. Lifting a finger, Candi jabs her bother in the chest softly, “No fucking the stupid Brit. Besides, he’s involved in some weird triangle with two of his friends so I doubt you wanna get involved.”

“That’s literally more reason to get involved, are you kidding me?” Blake laughs. “Oh man, let me come in and mess everything up. Suddenly you got those two teaming up to take me down. Besides, I was kidding about sleeping with Lando.” Candi raises a brow at her brother and Blake offers a sheepish smile, “okay, mostly joking. Though seriously,” dropping his voice, “where the fuck did you find him?”

The siblings turn their gaze to Lando, who is sprawled out on the pull out couch while Moth sleeps on his chest, purring softly. Looking back at each other Candi shrugs nonchalantly. “I found him—“

“Found him? What is he? A stray cat?” Blake jokes.

“No.” Candi scrunches her nose, “he’s a stray dog actually.”

Blake stares at his younger sister like she has ten heads. For someone who is the walking embodiment of a black cat decorated in piercings and tattoos and an entire black wardrobe, she really did have a talent for collecting the embodiments of some of the friendliest and more chaotic animals around. Blake just looks back before finally asking the question that’s been burning his mind since he got home.

“How did you even find him?”

"well, you see.."

“Moth! Honey! Where are you?”

Candi stands in the doorway to her room as she listens. There’s a silence in the house and Candi puts her lips together because if he’s silent that means he’s either scheming or sleeping and usually it means he’s scheming. Making her way downstairs, Candi scans the living room before spotting the ball of black fluff sitting on the back of the beige couch. Making her way over, she leans down to see Moth just staring and following his gaze.

Outside, there was a dark blue car outside. Candi blinks in confusion because this was no place for a car like this. The cul de sac was small and tucked away even though it was only 15 minutes out from Austin but—

“Who the fuck had this car why is it in front of the house?” Candi looks down hearing a meow. Green eyes meet hers before Moth turns his attention back to the window and Candi follows, seeing a mop walk around the car. He had his hands on his hips while looking at his car and Candi can only assume it’s his tire. Candi thinks for a moment if she should offer her help but decides that he’d probably fix his own tire or call a tow so she leaves it be for now but watches.

After ten minutes, Candi stares in shock. It’s been ten minutes and no effort from the driver of this car. She can’t even blame it on service because the service around this area is actually exceptional. She watches the driver digging through his trunk and she can’t take the painful second hand embarrassment anymore as she slips her crocs on and grabs her car keys before stepping onto the porch.

“Excuse me—“ Candi winces, hearing a head smack against the ceiling. The guy rubs the back of his head and Candi catches the curly mullet he somehow pulls off, “Are you okay?”

“Fine!”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, my head hurts a bit but I’ll survive.” Lando turns to continue digging through his trunk.

Candi nods. “Cool. Do you need help?”

“No, no I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’ve been outside for almost ten minutes in front of a McLaren 765LT Spider and not once have you towed nor changed it and I’m starting to suspect you don’t know how to change your tire or are too embarrassed to admit you got a flat.”

Lando turns and looks down at Candi. He stares at her for a moment before glancing away, his cheeks and neck flushing before looking back at her, “Is it that obvious?”

“Painfully.”

Lando glances away as his cheeks flush more as he laughs slightly. He covers his mouth before looking back at Candi. “Well, then yes. I would like some help.”

“Okay. Do you have a spare tire?”

“I think?”

“What do you mean you think?”

“Well, this was gifted to me and McLaren was nice enough to ship it over to the US.” Lando clears his throat, “they said everything I needed was in the car but. I don’t know. I’ve had it for two days before we came here so I haven’t really had time to see what is in the car—what are you doing?”

Lando watches Candi walk by him to the trunk of the car. He leans over seeing how she pats around before finding a handle and opening the spare tire compartment. Lando doesn’t even get a chance to move before Candi is hoisting the tire out with ease and gently putting the tire down. “Jesus.” Lando blurts out, “isn’t that heavy?”

“Not really,” Candi shrugs. She leans the tire up before going to her car and grabbing the car jack she keeps before making her way back over as she squats down and starts changing his tire.

Lando deduces that Candi likes to do things herself. No matter how hard Lando tries Candi would just brush him off. He ended up just holding the lug nuts while she changed the tire. “Thank you.” Lando tells her when it’s all said and done.

“You’re welcome. How did you even end up over here?”

“Well, I got in a bit early and I was doing some exploring for some food outside of Austin to avoid fans” Lando starts as Candi nods, “and my phone started glitching therefore maps weren’t working and then I guess I got a nail in the tire or something and I pulled over before noticing your house—”

“Ma’s.” Candi corrects, “It’s my grandma’s house.”

“Oh, sorry. I noticed your grandmother’s house so it felt like it was the best spot to…figure out what to do and now we’re here.”

“I see.”

Lando stands awkwardly for a moment before blurting out, “Do you want lunch? It’s on me. As a thank you.”

“Oh.” Candi blinks in surprise. “No—no that’s okay. Really, I don’t want to be a bother—”

“It would be no bother at all.”

Candi and Lando stare at each other again before Candi tilts her head ever so slightly. She looks Lando up and down before she narrows her eyes slightly in thought. “Wait a minute.” Candi starts, “Aren’t you that…F1 driver with that team for the Austin GP, right?”

Great. Lando thinks a bit sad that Candi has finally figured him out. Just when I thought I wasn’t dealing with a fan.There goes that semblance of being a normal person “Yeah,” Lando forces a smile. “I am—”

“You look better when you’re not in that horrible orange color.”

Lando offers an audible gasp. He looks at Candi with a mixture of shock and horror when Candi decides that the papaya orange—his papaya orange—was a horrible shade of orange. “It is not an ugly shade of orange!!”

“It so is an ugly shade.” Candi snickers slightly, “but agree to disagree, no?”

“No, actually.” Lando huffs, “we will not agree to disagree. I’m going to explain why papaya is the best shade of orange ever.”

“Well, would you like to come inside as you fail to persuade me to think otherwise?” Candi offers, “It’s hot, my edible is about to hit, and my cat is trying to explode you in your mind.” Candi turns her head at Moth staring at them, meowing wildly.

“Fine. Only because it is hot and that cat is adorable. What’s his name?”

“Mothman. Like the cryptic.” Candi starts her explanation as she leads Lando into the house rambling on about her cat.

“That explains the nice ass car.” Blake remarks while looking at Lando and Moth, “but are you serious?” Watching Candi nod, Blake laughs softly. “Well…at least he’s pretty.”

“That’s true.”

“So, is he staying for dinner?”

Candi shrugs. Blake hums softly, “Well, Ma is still on her cruise with the girls. Charles is at Jacob’s and Jade is on a trip with her streamer friends so it’s just us and I was thinking maybe Waffle House whenever we get hungry?”

“Perfect.”

Candi watches Blake make his way over to introduce himself to Lando while Moth looks up. She laughs when they finish introductions so Moth can scream at Blake. Candi and Lando laugh as Blake argues with Moth as Candi sits next to Lando, turning the TV on and putting hockey on. Blake settles on the other side of Candi as Moth stretches and hops onto Candi’s lap before laying down. Candi takes the chance to ramble on about hockey until it’s over in which Lando (with the help of Blake and Candi with their excellent pirating skills) puts on the past F1 races and let Lando info dump about them. They take a break to have Lando experience the joy of Waffle House around 9pm before they get back and Lando realizes that he needs to get back to the hotel.

“Well, thanks for fixing my tire.” Lando starts. “And for letting me just hide out here for a bit and feel like…”

“You’re a normal 24 year old hanging out with friends and not a famous F1 driver?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah well,” Candi shrugs. “It’s the least I can do. I think people forget that celebrities are also people and then are surprised when you guys do things like us. Also because I’ve never seen a single F1 race until you showed us so to me you were just a college student who comes from wealth who got lost. Though, I will say that nothing really exciting happens since I’m so tucked away so thank you for making the day less boring.”

Lando nods and is about to get into his car before stopping. “Hey. I never got your name.”

“Me?”

“Well, I know your brother’s name is Blake so yeah.” Lando offers a toothy grin.

“Candi.” Candi tells him with a smile.

“Well, Candi. If you and your brother are interested I could get you guys tickets for the race this weekend? I would like some form of communication with you to give you the tickets.”

Putting her lips together, she thinks. “Yeah, we have nothing better to do. How about, I follow you on instagram and you follow me back? I would say phone numbers but I don’t wanna download another app.” Candi jokes.

Lando laughs and grins as he takes his phone out. “Honestly, I can’t really blame you for that one.” Candi and Lando follow each other on instagram. “Okay, and done. I will see you and Blake this weekend.”

“Alright. Bye Lando.” Candi waves bye as Lando drives away. “What a weird one.”

“Yeah but, aren’t all 24 year olds weird?” Blake asks from his spot on the porch.

“You got me there. Alright, well,” Candi turns and makes her way up the porch. “..What the hell do you bring to a Grand Prix?”

“No clue…Wanna open a 6 pack and research?”

“Oh dear brother.” Candi grins. “You’re speaking my language now.”

#moonlight releases #three musketeers unite #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 & wilson siblings #ln4 & candi wilson #ln4 & blake wilson #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris & oc #lando norris & candi wilson #lando norris & blake wilson #wilsonverse #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #startlight library navigation

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luveline · 2 years ago

Note

& speaking of the Steve zombie au series —

would you ever maybe give us a little tidbit of maybe Steve and reader where he finally admits to her not only just how petrified he was when she got kidnapped, but also how much he’s realized that he cannot live without her? I could feel his walls coming down in that last excerpt and felt our boy wanting to just UNLEASH all of his emotions to us and the comforted one vs the comforter, like — ugh my baby 🥲

even if you never wrote this tho your writing and this series is literally unmatched like oh my fucking god I love you and don’t even know you???

thank you so much ♥ for you, fem!reader zombie!au steve

"You want to what?"

"I want to move into the pantry."

You stare at Steve, your shock melding into unhappiness. "No, you don't."

He laughs at your frown and sits up a little taller. He almost drops his tray. "I do! I miss you all the time, I don't see why we chose separate jobs in the first place."

You look down at your own tray. You and Steve have chanced the unnatural winter sunshine to eat in the quietude outside of the cafeteria, but it's cold despite the sunshine and you don't like the food today and now Steve is… doing whatever it is he's doing.

"I miss you too," you say. "You want this?"

"You need to eat."

"I don't like–"

"That's never stopped you before," he teases lightly.

"Forgive me for being picky," you say, and you're not being sarcastic. It's an amazing privilege at this point, and in these circumstances, to be able to turn food away. "You eat it for me, please."

"We can go to the shop tonight and pick something you like," he says.

'The shop' is just that, a small store of any excess pantry stuff, luxuries people don't strictly need. You can trade or you can cash in a 'credit' or a few for something. There's been some great stuff in there lately, like marshmallows and a huge box of three musketeers bars.

"No…" You don't want him to buy you treats. It's like a reward for being difficult. "You can't come to work in the pantry, there isn't anything for you to do."

"Then I'll do something else. I just want to be here with you."

"But," you say, alarmed, "you can't do that. We can't be like that."

You've only just got back to normal. Not normal, because this isn't normal, not this community or the apocalypse or what happened to you, but better than it had been. You get up in the mornings at the same time and eat breakfast in the cafeteria, where Hopper hosts town hall, and then you part for your separate jobs. You work in the kitchen, Steve works as a sort of security guard patrolling the fences of the community to stop a geek invasion, and occasionally leaves the College to bring things back from the abandoned shopping mall a couple of miles away.

"Be like what?" he asks, sounding like he's about to sulk with you as he puts his tray at the floor by his feet.

"Codependent."

"We're already codependent. I think we're allowed."

"See, that's what everybody says, but–"

You put your tray down on the floor because you doubt Steve's going to eat it. It clinks next to Steve's with a more aggressive emphasis than you'd wanted.

You look at him, really look at him, eyes scanning his eyes and his mouth and the way he's holding his shoulders. He's tense. He's anxious.

"Stevie," you say, and offer him your hand.

He doesn't take it. "But what?" he asks.

"I need you to be happy," you say, "how can you be happy if you're always worried about me? And when you're not worried about me it's because you're giving up the things you like doing to be near me."

Your voice is quiet. It's hard to say all that out loud, one half of you worried he'll laugh in your face and say you've got it all wrong, and the other worried you'll hurt his feelings.

"I need you."

"Steve, you–"

"I do," he says, staring a hole into your thigh, "I need you. I went fucking crazy without you."

"You would've been okay." If something happened to me.

He shakes his head. "No, I would've been a mess. Probably forever."

This isn't the first time you've seen Steve vulnerable, but it's been a long time. He's been your pillar of strength, he's held you through nightmares and moments of unreality. He hadn't once wavered.

You push onto your feet. You stand in front of him, weaving your fingers into the soft hair at the back of his head.

"Steve," you say, pulling his head into your chest. You don't continue, wanting to say, Why didn't you tell me you felt like that?

But he had. Hadn't he? He'd crossed the wilderness in the dead winter on a maybe that you'd be somewhere he could reach.

His shoulders shift under your hand. You think, horrified, that he might be crying.

"Steve," you whisper, pressing your lips into his hair. "It's okay. You saved me, you know?"

"But what if I didn't get there in time? You were all alone. You were tied up," he says.

"I'm sorry." You don't know what else to say. You're so sorry. That he would have to think that, and see you like that. "It's my fault. I'm sorry."

His arms slide behind your back and lock you in so tightly you feel like each of his fingers is touching your spine. You scramble to keep a hold on him.

"I– you know, I lost my shit in the communal bathrooms and Robin had to tell me to get ahold of myself," he admits, trying to be lighthearted. He sounds strangled.

"I didn't know that," you say, your eyes filling with tears.

You have no clue if Steve is crying now. You think he might be. He's unsteady under your hands, the side of his face buried in your sternum, his hands clinging to you like you're a liferaft at sea. You try to calm him down, and find, ashamed of yourself, that you don't know how.

"I'm so sorry, Steve," you mumble, sniffing his hair. He smells like your shared soap.

All you can do is let him hug you. Eventually, his grip loosens, and he pull his face from your torso to look up at you.

"Squeezing you…" He rubs his hands softly over the places he'd gripped.

"You didn't hurt me. You'd have to try way harder than that, Harrington," you say.

He reaches up for your face and you let him take it, bending at the waist for a kiss. You ignore the dampness under his eyes at first, thinking maybe that's what he wants. You kiss him all wonky in your desperation to feel it, and you laugh wetly as you lean back.

You wipe his cheeks. "I love you," you say, and you both fill up with tears again.

"This is embarrassing," Steve says, laughing with you.

You nod fiercely. Super embarrassing.

You wouldn't have it any other way, though. You throw your arms around his neck for a second time and kiss the top of his head until you can't feel your lips.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things

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hannatsunari · 3 months ago

Text

One of the reason why I love the three caballeros is of how Donald appears whenever he is with the other two (Not in a meta perspective or taking account that this all happens because his stories need to be funny, I mean in a more character based perspective)

My memories of him from my childhood (b4 I knew theses 3) was the he was kind of a punchbag? Wich, is far, he is famously unlucky, wich made it easy to make him the butt of jokes. Plus, he is hard for people to understand (Wich, boyyyyy, is another whole bag of beans), is easier to just... Ignore his concerns and laugh instead? The way he lives and the way he is treated usually is very stressful and he doesnt often get a chance to just be himself honestly (Especially when is is outshined by someone in every social group (Mickey, Scrooge, Gladstone, sometimes even the triplets) He is very much a secondary character ...Unless he is with the Cabs! "Pato Donal'? O PATO DONAL'?" < Literally his first interaction with Zé is geting apreciation from another person. He is as much as a character and as much respected as the rest of them, so not only he is treated very well by the other two, Zé and Pan are not the butt of the jokes either. They are equal! Equally stupid, but equal! And, yeah, you can argue that the whole movie is kind of making fun of him bc he... Really want to kiss a lady, but I feel a diference of finding that funny because he is so happy that he is stupid (and encouraged to knock himself out and be stupid with two other stupidly happy guys) rather than, for example, in the Three Musketeers movie, where the funny thing abt him is his fear and distress Idk, I may be a little bit too sensitive to ppl being made fun of, but I think it makes sense

#the three caballeros #donald duck #three caballeros #ze carioca #panchito pistoles

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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

Note

Three Musketeers + Lemon head + Eddie

Love, @corroded-hellfire 💚

Exes-to-lovers/Mom!Reader/Eddie Munson

My birthday gift to you, my love. Thank you for being my best friend, my soulmate, my other half. I can't believe we haven't even known each other for a full year. I love you more than Max loves Steve's chest hair.

Warnings: marital strife and separation (it ends well, I promise!)

WC: 840

Divider credit to @saradika

Your fingers hover tentatively over the phone’s number pad, the receiver heavy in your palm.

Do it for Harmony, you silently will yourself; as if on cue, your six-year-old daughter tugs on your sleeve impatiently.

“Mommy, just call him!” she huffs, hands on her hips in a display of attitude. Six going on sixteen, you think. “I want him to see my costume!” She gives a little twirl as her tulle skirt fans out around her.

“Okay, Cinderella,” you relent with a laugh dialing the seven numbers that you hated to commit to memory. Because it means that Eddie is still living there, and not here.

Here is the home you’d bought together, pooling all your savings together to afford a two-bedroom house just outside of Hawkins. There is the apartment he’d been renting since you two had agreed on a trial separation four months ago.

It’s not that you didn’t love him; besides Harmony, you loved him more than anything in the world. But there had been too many evenings where he came home far later than promised, too many date nights canceled in favor of last-minute gigs at the Hideout, too many mornings that he’d scrambled to work without even offering you a kiss goodbye. At some point, your spark had fizzled out, and you didn’t have the energy to rekindle it.

He picks up on the second ring with a soft, “Hello?”

“Hey, ba—Eddie, it’s me.” You catch yourself just before you can utter the pet name.

“Is Harmony okay? Are you okay?” There’s an urgency in his voice that tugs at your heartstrings.

“We’re fine,” you hurriedly assure him, hearing a sigh of relief from his end of the line. “She just picked out her costume and wants to show you, if you’re free.”

His eager promise to be right over forms a pit in your stomach. You know he’ll show; he wouldn’t get his daughter’s hopes up for nothing. The problem is you: seeing him makes you miss him more, and you don’t want to want him. Not if the feeling isn’t mutual.

Sure enough, he’s at the house in fifteen minutes flat, leaning up against the frame when you open the door. “Hi.” One breathy word from his mouth already leaves you in shambles. His brown eyes flick from your lips upwards.

“Hi.” You stand, motionless, for a beat too long. “Oh, um, come in.” It’s strange and sad to have to grant him permission to enter, and while you appreciate him respecting that boundary, you almost wish he didn’t.

Harmony eases the tension, flinging herself into her father’s arms with an excited, “Daddy! I’m Cinderella!” She giggles as he peppers her face with kisses and hugs her tight. “Can you be Prince Charming? No, wait,” she scrunches her nose, “if you’re Prince Charming, then Mommy has to be Cinderella.”

You clear your throat, eager to change the subject. “Okay, Princess, go change into your pajamas and get ready for bed.”

She pouts but obeys, turning towards the staircase before swiveling around again. “Can we watch a movie?” Her hopeful eyes shine bright. “Like we used to do before Daddy moved away?”

Your heart tears in two, and you look over at Eddie. He gives an approving smile, but the time on the microwave clock requires an altered plan. “How about one episode of The PowerPuff Girls?” you suggest.

That satisfies her, and she flounces upstairs to her room.

Eddie sighs, walking over to you with his arms crossed over his chest. “Whatever happens with us, we made the cutest kid in the world.” He opens his mouth to say more, but closes it before any words can escape.

Curiosity tugs at you, urging you to ask him what’s on his mind, but you shove it down and press on. “We really did,” you manage, biting your lower lip. “Are…when can we talk about what’s happening with us? What the next steps are?”

“It all depends on what you want, babe.” The nickname slips out unintended, but he doesn’t take it back. “I just know that I miss you, miss us…” He rakes his fingers through his hair, fighting the desire to wrap you in a hug. “I’m so fucking sorry. I was a shitty husband, and I promise I’ll do better if I can get one more chance.”

Your voice is small when you ask, “do you still love me?”

He doesn’t reply with words initially; his lips crash onto yours hungrily while his hand presses against the small of your back. “I love you more than I can ever explain.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out his wedding ring. “I, um, brought this…in case you want me to wear it again?” It’s a question, an inflection at the end.

You nod, taking it from him and sliding it on his fourth finger, just as you did on your wedding day. “I do,” you laugh. “Are you ready to honeymoon with Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup?”

“I couldn’t dream of anything better.”

#trope or treat #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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fandom-imagines-stories · 2 years ago

Text

Trois Surprises

Aramis x Reader (The Musketeers)

Words: 6719

Summary: Aramis and the reader are changed forever by three joyous surprises.

Notes: I write a lot of angst for him, but dammit, this man deserves to be happy. And I wanted to write him actually being able to spend time with his kids. Also, the title is ‘Three Surprises’ in French, I just didn’t know ‘surprises’ is spelled the same way. At least that’s what translate said. Please don’t come for me. This also doesn’t follow any plots from the show, so ignore the timeline haha.

More Musketeers HERE

The garrison greeted you with metal clashing and the smell of sweat. Men shouted at each other across the way with language that was far from proper. It didn’t bother you, of course. In your time frequenting the training area, you’d grown used to its oddities and eccentricities.

A few of the men cheered to greet you and asked how you were or what brought you to the garrison, though they already had an idea. You were here for Aramis. You were always here for Aramis. Or for shooting lessons, which the captain had approved since you lived alone and association with the musketeers often led to trouble.

“Y/N!” A boisterous voice called. Porthos hopped up from the table he sat at and crossed the courtyard. Not one for propriety, he pulled you into a hug without a second thought. You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “What brings you here?”

He led you back to the table and brushed off the bench for you to sit.

Athos tilted his hat. Unlike his companion, he enjoyed upholding some of the rules of society. “Mademoiselle Y/L/N.”

“How many times must I tell you to call me Y/N?” You teased.

“If I did, you wouldn’t have to tell me any more,” he smirked. “I assume you’re looking for Aramis.”

You nodded. “I have important matters to discuss with him and Captain Treville.”

The two exchanged a look.

“Sounds serious,” Porthos said. “Anything we should know about?”

“All in good time, boys,” you beamed. “I promise I won’t leave you in the dark for too long.”

D'Artagnan eyed you curiously. Perhaps your closest friend among Aramis’ companions, it was unusual for you not to share something with him. You gave him a reassuring nod and he trusted he’d find out what all this was about in due time. It didn’t stop his mind from searching the possibilities, though.

The imploring silence only lasted a moment longer.

“Y/N?”

And just like that, at the sound of his voice, your knees turned soft and your heart stopped beating. Every nerve in your body seemed to bunch and twist in your belly. You turned, Aramis’s eyes sparkling at you in the morning light as a smile crept onto his face.

“I had no idea you’d be here,” he grinned, kissing your cheek.

“I had something I wanted to share with you before you galavanted off into danger somewhere.” The tremble in your voice made his face darken with worry. His gaze flicked to his companions and they took the hint, hurrying off to the side to give the two of you some privacy. You began to fidget with your cloak. “I hope my coming on short notice isn’t a nuisance.”

“No, please.” He took your hands in his and brought them to his lips. “You are my favorite kind of surprise, darling.” His dark eyes looked deeply into yours. “Is something the matter?”

“Not exactly…” You’d rehearsed the words numerous times and it was completely in vain. You might as well have been mute, standing before him with a blank, panicked expression, which of course only made him look more concerned.

“My love, you’re starting to frighten me,” he laughed nervously and tucked a hair behind your ear. “You can tell me anything.”

You took a deep breath, placing a hand on his chest.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Porthos whispered. The three, having been observing from afar, watched on as you stared down at the dirt and Aramis lifted your chin with his finger.

“That’s between the two of them,” Athos said. “It’s none of our business.” However, he did not, nor did the other two, turn away.

You said something none of them could hear. Aramis’s arms fell to his sides, face turned white as a sheet. His mouth floundered open and closed, unable to say anything.

“You don’t think she’s broken things off, do you?” D’Artagnan asked.

After a moment of this awkward, anxious tension that even they could feel from across the courtyard, Aramis seemed to snap to his senses. He lifted you off the ground and spun around, a smile as wide as the Seine spread across his face. Your laugh rang throughout the space and when he set you down, your arms hooked around his neck, lips locking together for longer than what was probably publicly acceptable.

Athos turned to the youngest member of their group. “I take that as a no.”

Aramis kissed you one… two… three… more times before you said something about going to the market and left, holding his hand until the last possible moment.

When the marksman returned, his friends stood with brows raised and curious smiles. Porthos patted him on the back.

“What to share what that was all about?”

Still, with a starstruck grin, Aramis gazed around in a daze. Like before, his mouth fell open and nothing came out. He was sure his heart had stopped beating. Or perhaps it wasn’t there anymore. It was with you, as it always had been. Now more than ever.

He looked up at his companions- his friends- the men he trusted with his life and the words simply fell from his lips.

“Y/N’s pregnant.”

“I don’t know if I can wait much longer,” you whined, breathing slowly and deeply as you took a seat at the table.

Constance smiled. “You only have, what, a month or so to go?”

“Yes, and I feel like I’m the size of Notre Dame.” You laid a hand on your bulbous belly and laughed. “I look the size of Notre Dame.”

“Nonsense,” she chuckled along with you, setting a plate of bread and bowl of stew in front of you. Constance peeked out the door and shook her head. “They’re late. Again.” Despite the playful annoyance in her voice, there was a sparkle in her eye. One you recognized well.

“You know… D’Artagnan has been speaking of you more and more since I became pregnant. I dare say he even sounds hopeful.”

“Don’t start,” she swallowed. She took a rag and started to wipe down the table in order to avoid your gaze. “I, in case you’ve forgotten, am married to the man who supplies your fabrics. D’Artagnan and I are merely friends.” The younger woman glanced up at you with a kind of admiration. “It isn’t like what you and Aramis have.”

You scoffed. “I’m his mistress.”

Her eyes softened with sincerity. She put a hand on your arm. “You’re a great deal more than that.”

You averted your eyes, feeling the hint of tears begin in them and focused on the meal before you. Despite his adoration and his devotion, you knew not to hope for more than what you were given. And you had no complaints, of course, Aramis was the light of your life and to have his child was more than you ever imagined. But he was a hero. You were a seamstress.

As if summoned by your brief sorrow, the door to the cottage opened and you heard two pairs of thundering steps coming down the hall. While not banished completely, your doubts were pushed to the back of your mind upon the sight of Aramis’s grinning face.

“Sorry we’re late, ladies,” he said, removing his hat with a smug flare. “Paris needed saving.”

“When doesn’t it?” You laughed. He leaned to place a kiss on your forehead, hand falling lovingly to your belly.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered against your skin. Aramis basked at the sight of you in the setting sun, golden rays streaming through the window. “Like an angel in heaven’s light.”

A lovely pink color crept onto your cheeks. “You flatter me too much.”

“My love, my words will never be enough.” Aramis brought your lips to his with passion and sweetness, despite the other two in the room. He set his weapons aside, his coat along with them, and sat next to you. Seeing the billowing sleeves of his shirt reminded you of your work earlier in the day.

“I almost forgot, I repaired the tear in your shirt. I’ll have to go fetch it.” You started to stand- with more than a little effort- and he laid a hand on your shoulder to set you back down.

“Please, don’t trouble yourself, darling.” He kissed you again. “I’ll get it.” As he sauntered into the other room, Constance gave you a knowing look you did your best to ignore.

“Any news on the Red Guard?” D’Artagnan asked. You were glad of the change in subject, though Constance rolled her eyes at his abruptness.

“Unfortunately, I don’t seem to be the favorite to stitch their uniforms ever since-” You motioned to the rather obvious reason at your middle.

“Ah,” D’Artagnan nodded. “Right.”

Having made a reputation as having the most reliable repairs of any affordable seamstress in Paris, you’d often had members of the Red Guard come to you, as they were ‘too above’ mending anything themselves. It did, however, allow you to overhear things here and there, which you took to the musketeers. But keeping your relationship with Aramis a secret was hard enough. Now, with such a drastic change in your appearance, they’d kept their distance, though whether it was because you were unmarried or if they suspected you to be somewhat of a spy for your child’s father, you couldn’t tell.

The two of you looked at each other for a moment before you couldn’t contain your laughter. D’Artagnan sat beside you and asked you questions of a lighter variety while you pleaded to hear of the day’s adventures. Aramis always worried he’d distress you, so you received all the juicy details from the youngest musketeer. Through your friendship with Constance, D’Artagnan had become one of your closest friends as well.

A lull fell upon your conversation and you couldn't help but note how his eyes drifted back to your mutual companion by the fire.

One day, you thought…

A sudden movement within you forced a gasp from your lips. Aramis returned to the room in seconds.

“Love, what is it? Did something happen?” He knelt by your side with loving, concerned eyes.

“Yes,” you beamed, placing a hand where the movement was. You looked into his beautiful gaze and felt yourself overtaken by the excitement. “I believe he just kicked.” Gently, you took his hand and guided it to where you’d felt it.

“He?” Aramis awed, raising a brow.

You shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

Another motion fluttered against Aramis’s hand, this one stronger and almost more aggressive than the last. Aramis chuckled.

“I think she may disagree with your feeling.”

“Oh, a girl then, is it?” You smirked.

He shrugged, mocking you affectionately. “Just a feeling.”

He’d come as soon as he heard. All of them had. The four musketeers stood in the lobby of your shop, none of them able to sit down. Athos leaned against the wall, he and Porthos watching the windows as if for some dastardly foe. D’Artagnan tried to distract himself by sharpening his sword. Aramis paced at the foot of the stairs leading up to your rooms.

The midwife wouldn’t allow him to be with you, despite his protests. Only Constance was permitted to accompany her in tending to you. It took all three men to hold him back when your screaming began.

Hours of this hell passed. He paced until he was sure the soles of his boots would scuff clean off.

“Can I ask you something?” Porthos asked. He hoped to distract his friend from his pain but, in truth, it was something they’d all been wondering for months. Aramis stopped his hurried steps and turned with a nod. Porthos swallowed. “Why haven’t you married her?”

“Porthos now is hardly the occasion,” Athos scolded.

“We have to talk about something, else we’ll all go mad with her up there.”

Aramis held up a hand to silence them both. The three waited with bated breath as he looked up, wishing to float through the ceiling and be by your side.

“Because she doubts me,” he said with an unexpected sadness in his voice. He looked back at them. “She doesn’t believe that my love for her is genuine. I can feel it when her smile falters or when her hand falls from mine.” He turned away. “To ask her for her hand because of the child… it would only prove what she believes.” Aramis clenched his fist at his side, then relaxed it again. This idleness would destroy him if this was not soon over. “I could not force her to marry a man that she doubts.”

The others nodded in understanding, though none of them truly understood, especially D’Artagnan.

He’d never seen two people who loved each other more than you and Aramis. He wanted to scream at both of them until his throat was sore if he thought it would help. Seeing the two of you so clouded with your own doubts hurt him more than he could say. The younger man just couldn’t fathom it. He’d give anything to have the opportunity to marry the woman he loved.

The matter of your reputation, of course, had already been discussed. You told anyone who discovered your condition that you’d married while away in Gascony and that your husband was a merchant who traveled often and you always met with him back in Gascony. Most people didn’t care enough to gossip about an orphaned woman with little prospects to begin with. It’d been your idea to lie and Aramis accepted it as you being as unsure of him as you thought he was of you.

What killed him the most, despite his charming demeanor and always knowing the right words for the right people, was that he had no idea how to convey to you how he truly felt. He reminded you of his love every moment he had with you, and yet he knew you didn’t fully believe it. What else could he do but keep trying?

Another aching shriek echoed through the chamber, followed by a silence, and then… cries. An infant’s wailing filled the house.

Aramis raced up the stairs before the others could stop him.

The door to your bedroom opened and Constance stepped out, quickly closing it behind her. She had a bundle in her arms. The auburn-haired woman beamed at him.

“Would you like to meet your son?”

Suddenly, he couldn’t move. He just stared at Constance, stunned, as the baby continued to cry. It was as if he’d forgotten how to use his limbs, everything numb with a strange mix of disbelief and utter joy.

A son.

He stepped forward and spoke with a shaking voice. “Y-yes.” He felt like a child himself, standing before her with arms outstretched.

Constance, still grinning, gently placed the wriggling bundle into his awaiting embrace.

He couldn’t believe how small he was. His son. A tiny fist reached out. Aramis gave him his pinky to grasp onto, his little fingers not even able to wrap all the way around the digit. He rocked the baby in his arms, cooing slightly. The boy stopped crying.

“I have a son,” he gasped. He turned to the stairs, where his three friends had gathered at the bottom. His tone raised to a cheer. “I have a son!”

A chorus of joyous hollers and applause filled the stairwell.

The celebration, however, was cut short as another round of your screaming cries The boy in his arms began wailing again. He held him a little closer to soothe him, but Aramis had gone white.

“What’s happening?” He asked.

Constance shook her head. “I-I don’t know. I thought everything was fine.”

A guttural grunt. Another scream.

Aramis passed his son back to Constance and started toward your door. The three men had already climbed the stairs with worried expressions.

“You aren’t supposed to-” Constance started, but she stopped as soon as she saw Aramis’s look of absolute panic.

He burst through the door.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” Aramis rushed to your side, brushing a sweat-soaked strand of hair away from your cheek.

“Aramis?” You muttered, almost dreamily.

“You shouldn’t be in here monsieur,” the midwife scolded.

Your knees were pulled up before her. He tried not to look, for the bed sheets were slick with blood and it only made him panic even more. He, instead, looked into your eyes and you looked into his, the comfort of those dark brown irises grounding you through the pain.

“Something’s… happening…” You took heaving breaths in between your words. His hand found yours and you held onto it with a near-crushing grip.

“There’s another,” the midwife said.

Both of your heads snapped up to look at her and you spoke at the same time.

“What?!”

She peered up at you, cast a disapproving look at the father, but decided it was too late to force him out of the room.

“Just as we did before,” she instructed. “Ready? Three… two…”

For the first time, there was quiet.

The midwife had gone, having gathered the soiled blankets and bowls of water. Aramis sat beside you, one arm around your shoulders, your son blinking up at both of you from your embrace. With the other arm, he held your daughter.

“I doubt I’ll ever understand what I’ve done in my life,” he whispered, kissing your forehead, “to deserve all of this.”

You turned your head to kiss his lips lightly, reaching a hand to caress your daughter’s soft cheek.

“It seems impossible for two things so perfect to come into my life at once,” you mused, bringing your hand up to his face. “And you… to have you for as long as I have. I can’t imagine what I’ve done to be so blessed.”

Aramis leaned into your touch, the hair of his beard tickling your palm as he nuzzled your skin. Those near-ebony eyes looked into yours with a love more powerful than he’d ever felt before. He wanted, right there, to ask you to marry him.

A knock at the door was followed by Constance peeking her head into the room with an excited, but exasperated expression.

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold them off,” she laughed. “I haven’t told them anything, like you asked, other than that everything is alright, but I don’t think they’ll believe me until they see you.”

Aramis chuckled, the vibration rumbling against you. Your daughter stirred against his chest, stretching her tiny arms toward him. He leaned to kiss her forehead.

You beamed. “Let them in.”

Constance nodded, smile growing, and turned back to the door.

“Be quiet, all of you,” she ordered. “I don’t want you scaring them.”

D’Artagnan’s brows drew together as he stepped in first.

“Them?”

As the two others piled in behind him, all halted abruptly, their eyes darting between you and Aramis and the not one, but two infants in your arms. Confusion turned to shock and finally to unbridled excitement.

“Twins!” Athos exclaimed with one of the first real smiles you’d ever seen on his face.

Porthos was still glancing between the two. “Twins?”

It was D’Artagnan who stepped forward first and placed a hand gently on your shoulder, his joy for you clear in his dark eyes.

“It’s incredible,” he said. He glanced up at Aramis with the same warm kinship. “I can’t begin to say how happy I am. For both of you.”

The other two gathered on Aramis’s side of the bed and shared similar congratulations.

“Have you thought of names?” Porthos asked.

“Actually, we thought we’d get your thoughts,” Aramis said, glancing over at you with a smirk. He touched a finger to your daughter’s nose. “For her, we were thinking of Christine.” She swatted at his finger lightly, making her father laugh again. “She’s quite the fighter already, hm?”

“I wonder where she gets that from,” Porthos smiled and patted him on the back.

“For our son,” you took a deep breath and looked up at your friend beside you. “We thought Charles would be fitting.”

D’Artagnan’s mouth fell open and his eyes filled with even more admiration and feeling than before, which didn’t seem possible.

“C-Charles?” He asked, as if he’d heard you wrong.

Aramis nodded. “Charles.”

“But only if you’ll allow it,” you said, reaching for his hand. “You’ve just been such a good friend to me- to us- and I hoped you would be his godfather as well, but if-”

He took your hand and brought it to his lips. “I would be honored.” His voice was heavy with emotion, tears of joy welling in his eyes.

“We’ve already asked Constance to be godmother to them both,” Aramis said. He turned to his best friend. “I was hoping, Porthos, that-”

“Do you even have to ask?” Porthos chuckled. He leaned over your daughter and made a face.

She started to cry.

“Congratulations,” Aramis sighed. “You’ve already frightened off your goddaughter.”

Porthos made another face and she stopped. He raised a brow at Aramis, beaming. You snickered at their antics.

“They are beautiful children,” Athos said, leaning against the dresser. “I can’t say enough how happy I am for the two of you.”

“Oh don’t feel left out, Athos,” Porthos teased. “I’m sure you can be godfather to the next one.”

You snorted. “I think he may have to wait a while for that.” Everyone in the room laughed. D’Artagnan gazed down at your son, still trying to hold back tears.

“Would you like to hold him?”

He gulped. “Can I?”

You smiled and carefully handed your son to his namesake. Aramis did the same with your daughter, slowly putting her in Porthos’s arms. And just like that, you watched the two grown men turn to puppies, all wide eyes and cooing smiles.

A happy tear rolled down your cheek. Aramis pulled you closed and kissed it away. You knew, more than anything in the world, that your children would be safe. And they would be loved.

III

He rocked the child in his arms with the whispers of a lullaby on his lips.

“Lullay, thou little tiny child,” he sang softly, “bye, bye, lully, lullay. Thou little tiny child, bye, bye, lully, lullay…” Aramis smiled and kissed his sleeping son’s forehead before laying him gently in his crib. Charles’s nose twitched and he stretched his tiny arms but didn’t stir.

Aramis watched him in wonder. Ten months and he still couldn’t quite believe all of this was real. His heart ached from being so full.

A small clattering sound drew his attention away and he felt his heart stop in a panic. Aramis rushed across the nursery and plucked his daughter from the floor before she could pull another one of his swords off of the table where he’d placed them.

“Christine d’Herblay, how many times must I tell you to leave Papa’s things alone?” He scolded, nuzzling her cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hurt yourself, darling.”

She leaned into his embrace, looking up at him with those big eyes with a perfectly innocent expression. Quite cunning, he thought, for a toddler. Of course, he melted instantly and began bouncing her up and down. Her bell-like laughter filled the room, as well as his chest.

The door to the nursery opened and you stepped in with messy hair stuck down by sweat from your exhaustive day and a harrowed expression. Your eyes fell upon the sheathed weapon on the floor.

“I tell her to leave them,” Aramis said. “But she doesn’t listen to me.” He tickled her side, earning more laughter. “Just like your mother, aren’t you?”

You didn’t laugh. Instead, you sighed and stooped to pick up his sword from the ground. From there, you began picking up everything you could find, tidying up the room in a flustered hurry. Aramis placed Christine in her crib beside Charles’s and took your hands in his to stop your anxious movements.

“What’s happened?”

You bowed your head. “Nothing.”

“Y/N…” He sighed, laying a hand on your cheek. You pulled away.

“It’s this Rocheforte.” You ran your fingers through your hair, more aware than ever of their lack of ring. “He isn’t like the cardinal- which I thought would be a good thing- but he’s somehow worse. He’s suspicious and- and cunning, and his men are asking more and more questions when I’m called there to repair uniforms.” Your rambling caught in your throat, paired with tired tears.

“What can I do?” Aramis asked. “You know it pains me to see you in distress. Just say the word, and I’ll have the heads of half of the Red Guard by sundown.”

“It isn’t just them.” You shook your head. “I’m just… so tired of lying, Aramis.”

Christine made a cooing sound. Charles yawned.

Aramis stepped toward you. “Then let us make it the truth.”

You paused, making sure you’d heard him correctly. Aramis continued.

“Marry me and none of this will matter. You can stop spying for Treville and the Red Guards will have the whole of the musketeers to face if they bother you again.”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, but you wiped them hastily away. At first, he thought they were tears of joy, but the closer Aramis looked, he knew he was wrong.

“I will handle Rochefortes prying myself. He’s likely figured out you are the true father and is just trying to frighten me into admitting it.”

“Y/N, I don’t understand. The solution for this is simple-”

“I will not doom you to a life you don’t want simply because it is the simplest answer!” you said, louder than you’d meant to. Charles awoke with shrieking cries.

“A life I don’t want?” Aramis scoffed, trying to hide his hurt. “What are you talking about?”

“My answer is no, Aramis.” You moved to pick up your screaming son. “Marrying is clearly something you’ve never wanted and I’m not going to allow you to sacrifice anything for me when the children and I have done just fine in the current situation.”

Aramis reached for both of you.

Christine started to cry as well.

“Y/N-”

“I think you should leave.” You didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, you focused on your children in order to hide your sorrow from their father. “I’ll watch them now.”

Aramis didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to kick himself for his insensitivity. He’d known of your doubts for so long and yet he sprung marriage on you as if it were nothing more than a way to fix a problem.

“If that is what you wish,” he sighed and left, closing the door behind him while the children’s crying followed him out.

He knew how he felt. He just needed to prove it to you.

You saw no one else for the remainder of the evening. Only your children kept you company, and even they seemed more interested in empty spools rolling around on the floor. Not that you minded. With them so distracted, you found it easier to let yourself cry.

He asked you to marry him.

How many times had you dreamt of Aramis saying those words and yet now they felt like musket shots to your heart. He saw you as a burden. A duty to fulfill. You could never live like that, even if it meant being free of the jeers of the Red Guard.

You only wished you could regret ever involving yourself with the musketeer, but your heart forbade it. Whether or not he felt the same, your love for Aramis had given you the world. The proof sat before you with their carefree laughter. Your son and daughter with their smiles just like their father’s. The time you’d gotten with them, with him, was worth all of the heartache.

It was late when you finally got them both to go to sleep. One was always waking the other, but eventually, Charles and Christine laid in their cribs and soundly drifted off.

You tried to finish up some work on a dress order at the table in the nursery,, but found your eyes unable to stay open. You must have fallen asleep as well, for the next time you opened them, the morning sun greeted you.

And the children were gone.

You were awake in an instant, tearing through your small apartment, but finding nothing. It wasn’t until you could hear Charles’ laughter that you hurried down the stairs, finding your son in the lap of his namesake and Christine grasping at a flower that Athos held over her playfully.

“Morning,” Porthos greeted.

You smacked the back of his head. “Don’t do that,” you exasperated, “I thought they’d been taken by miscreants or something.”

“We just didn’t want to ruin the surprise,” D’Artagnan smiled.

“What are you talking about?”

“It seems we are replacing you, for the day,” Athos explained, picking up Christine to give her to you. “The three of us are to deliver your finished orders.”

“While the four of us spend this beautiful day out, as a family,” Aramis said, having appeared in the doorway with a basket in hand and dressed in a casual tunic rather than his uniform.

Your heart fluttered at the thought, but your mind refused to give in so easily. After all, it was only the night before that you’d nearly cried yourself to sleep over the discussion you’d had with the man before you. But the charming smile on his face and the look in his eye made it awfully difficult to argue.

“I don’t know.” You made a point not to look at him. “I have so much still to do and-”

D’Artagnan stood, picking up your son and raising his brow at you. “Take the day, Y/N,” he said. “You deserve to rest.”

“Plus, he’s been going mad all night, which has driven all of us mad, as well,” Porthos muttered, motioning to his nervous friend in the doorway. “Go on,” he encouraged. “What trouble could we get into delivering a bunch of dresses and coats?”

“I don’t really like to think about it,” you frowned.

“I will make sure that everything gets to its proper place,” Athos assured you, making you feel a little bit better.

Aramis stepped inside, taking Charles from D’Artagnan and giving you a pleading glance.

“It’s a beautiful day, my love,” he said. “Let us spend it as a family.”

Any lingering frustration you’d felt from the night before was no match for his soft, wanting tone. And beneath his charisma, you knew that there was something else. Something far more serious. Whatever it was, you knew it was better to talk now than dance around it while the two of you buried yourselves in your work.

“I suppose I can spare one day,” you said.

Porthos and D’Artagnan cheered but were silenced by a look of annoyance from Athos. Aramis just lit up, kissing your cheek.

“You won’t regret it,” he whispered against your skin. But when he turned back to the door, son in his arms and his two girls behind him, he muttered to himself, “I hope.”

It was the first moment of peace you’d experienced in months. The only sound- other than the occasional cheer or coo from one of the children- was the slight breeze through the meadow flowers. The morning passed like dandelion seeds floating through the air.

Charles and Christine crawled around and explored the small plot of grass you’d found for them. Christine chased a butterfly and Charles plucked a light blue flower from its stem and brought it back to your lap.

“I see he’s inherited your charm,” you said, taking in the blossom’s sweet scent.

“And she your spirit,” Aramis pointed out, gesturing to the feisty toddler who was nearing the edge of the grass. He rolled onto his side and caught her in his arms before she could get too far. She whined, but only for a moment, before settling against his chest.

Despite the wonder of the morning, there was the crawling under your skin, whispers of your doubts reminding you of the hopes you’d felt had been dashed by your own fear. The fear that all of this would be gone in an instant. That he would finally tire of you and the life you’ve built and he would galavant off into the arms of another woman, into another battle, another fight he could not win.

You understood, then, looking at him under the swaying shadows of the willow tree above you, perhaps that was why you allowed your doubts to persist. Though you cared so deeply for him, you kept him at arm's length because the idea of him leaving of his own will was easier to take than a musket ball piercing his heart or a dagger across his throat.

The realization brought tears to your eyes. You bit your lip to hide the trembling, but Aramis knew in a heartbeat.

“Oh, my love,” he sighed. He set Christine beside her brother, both of whom had fallen asleep on the blanket. Aramis laid a hand on your cheek. “I fear I’ve made a grave mistake in the years we’ve spent together.”

You sucked in a breath and bowed your head, preparing for his regrets, his change of heart, and his announcement he was going to leave. He hooked a finger under your chin and lifted your face back to his.

“I have known you believe me to be with you out of a sense of duty. I have allowed you to believe that you are little more than a distraction grown into an obligation.” Taking your hands in his, his voice softened due to the overwhelming emotion in his tone. Now it was him trying to hide his tears. “I have wished my words of devotion were enough to convince you, but my actions last night have done just the opposite and for that, I deeply apologize.”

“Aramis-” You started, but he stopped you with a squeeze of your hand.

“I love you,” he said. He kissed the inside of your wrist, dark eyes watching you, so full of adoration and care that you held back a sob. Aramis held your palm to his cheek. “Every breath of every day belongs to you. Every beat of my heart is devoted to our family. Not out of any sense of duty. In fact, you’ve tangled my senses all together.” He chuckled, the lovely sound vibrating up your arm. “I can’t tell sunset from sunrise because you are my new sun. I don’t know which way is south because you are my north star.”

You found yourself leaning into him until you were but a few shallow breaths apart. Aramis turned his gaze to the sleeping children beside you.

“You have made me a father,” he beamed. “A dream I’d forgotten I had. You have made me a better man. Better than I thought I was capable of being. You are not an obligation, Y/N.” His eyes returned to yours and he drew even closer to you. “You are everything.”

His fingers laced into your hair and pulled your lips to his, silencing any of your cries. You kissed him with a passion like no other, but mostly you kissed him with belief.

When you parted, you both smiled tearfully.

Aramis continued.

“Which is why-” He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, but it was no use. You left him completely breathless. “I ask you once more, to do me the honor of making me your husband.” He kissed the trail of tears on your cheek. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Aramis, I-” Your mind searched your heart for a reason to say no. It warned of loss and heartbreak. But you found that, no matter what, your guarded feelings would only be in vain. Your heart could not be protected by you alone because it did not belong to you. You pressed your lips to Aramis’s and whispered against them. “Yes. My answer is yes.”

You spent the rest of the day taking Christine and Charles around the city, proudly walking side by side. A few people whispered as you went by and several Red Guards glared, but quickly looked away with one deadly glance from your fiance.

The sun began to dip in the sky by the time you returned to the shop.

To your surprise- and much to your relief- the other men managed to get through a day without destroying anything, which was a fair accomplishment for them. Any conversation between them ceased when the four of you entered.

“Welcome back,” Athos said.

Three pairs of eyes stared expectantly.

“So…” D’Artagnan needn’t voice his question. He could tell from the light in your eyes what the answer would be.

You merely gave them all a simple nod and they practically leapt with joy.

With the children placed in their chairs, Porthos pulled Aramis into a crushing hug, D’Artagnan kissed your cheek, and Athos smiled brightly at you both, all voicing their congratulations.

“I take it the final part of the plan is still in motion?” Porthos asked with a wink.

“What final part?” You asked.

Aramis ran a hand through his hair, nerves returning.

“Well, now that everything is settled and you haven’t decided that you’ve had enough of me,” he said. “These fine gentlemen have agreed to watch Christine and Charles while you and I partake in a romantic evening together.”

“The picnic in the meadow wasn’t romantic enough for you?” You snickered. “I don’t want to take any more of their time.”

“It’s no trouble, at all,” D’Artagnan said. “Constance will be joining us as well.”

You gave him a suggestive smile. “I see.”

He rolled his eyes. “I think you’d better just find out what your last surprise is for today and let us take care of everything else.”

“We’ll take very good care of them,” Athos promised. “And I’ll make sure these two don’t get into any trouble while you’re gone.”

“As if you’re one to talk.” Porthos slapped him on the back. He quirked a brow at the couple before him. “Go enjoy your evening. We’ll drop them off in the morning.”

“But I still don’t understand.” You looked in between the four of them. “You all speak as if we have somewhere else to go. Unless you’re suggesting the garrison…”

Aramis reached for your hand with a smirk. “Just follow me.”

You kissed the children goodnight and thanked the men one more time before allowing Armis to lead you back down the street in the direction of the garrison. He stopped, however, at a building he’d made a point to admire earlier in the day.

“As much as I find the apartment above your shop charming, I thought this may be better suited to fit a family,” he said.

It was a small structure, but there was a cozy feeling to its appearance as well. The potential to become a home.

“It’s the perfect distance between the shop and the garrison, so neither of us would have to travel very far. I know it isn’t much, but Treville gave me an advance on my commission and the others chipped in as well. And I figured I could spend time fixing it up for us in between missions. I think, given some time and effort, it could be-”

You stopped him with a kiss.

“I love it,” you smiled. “And I love you.”

Aramis’s face split with a grin and he scooped you into his arms, kissing you deeply, despite the people passing you by.

“Wait,” you said, putting a hand on his chest. You raised a brow in amusement. “You bought this before you asked me to marry you. What if…”

He chuckled. “I was just really hoping you’d say yes.”

You pulled him into another kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair. With your hearts full and the first evening you’d had to yourselves since the children were born, he wasted little time carrying you inside and kicking the door shut behind you.

#aramis x reader #armis the musketeers #santiago cabrera #aramis #bbc musketeers #the musketeers #porthos #d'artagnan #athos #fluff #aramis fluff #romantic hero type

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bountycancelled · 2 years ago

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THE FEELINGS MUTUAL! | Park Sunghoon x f! reader

SYNOPSIS: in which a very tired prince park sunghoon and a very irritable princess l/n y/n have one unfortunate first interaction... and then find out that they're marrying each other to merge their two small kingdoms. will the king and queen of a newly joined kingdom be able to put their differences aside and rule? will this marriage of convience blossom into something more?

CONTAINS: strangers to enemies...? to lovers, forced marriage, royal duties, lots of bickering, crack, fluff, angst, swear words, suggestive content, my shitty humour.

STATUS: upcoming

PROFILES: "the three musketeers‼️" | "live laugh love legion🥰💗😍"

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popculturebuffet · 7 months ago

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Donald Duck 90th Birthday Special: A Look At Mr Duck Steps Out

Happy Birthday Donald! For those I haven't had a chance to tell, i'm a HUGE Donald Duck Fan. Easily my faviorite Disney Character and the best of the sensational six.... which Pluto is a part of for some godforsaken reason but you didn't hear to come me badmouth a cartoon dog, I didn't come here to do that, it's time to celebrate one of the best characters in all of ficiton. And that's not hyperbole: Donald is a versatile character: he's been the best dad ever, an absuive parent, a put upon dad raising three horrifying nephews, a loving boyfriend, a negelctful ass, a put upon worker in the nazi regime, a sailor, a soldier, a cabllero, a singer, a lover, a dreamer, me, an unstoppable force of rage, a heavily abused worker for a billionare, a fire fighter, a musketeer, owen an ostrich, owned a penguin, fought an elder god, been to the moon and back, reawakened a billionare's will to live, been a superhero, been in a collectable card game, had a goose eat everything in his kitchen and many more adventures i'm simply not aware of. Donald has done it all.

Donald is at his best though when he's the every man: he fucks up, get's frustrated and often fails, but keeps going anyway. He reminds us that failure or loosing your temper isn't the end, you can recover from it and even if you don't, that's life.

To Honor Him I was spoiled for choice with tons of Barks stories, a ducktales episode, and a quack pack episode that all fit.. but for 90 years, I wanted something special, something that captured the age of the character, the scope of what he's capable of and the humor all in one.

So I settled on this: I covered this short way back in my donald duck shortsravagangza years ago, but felt it deserved a closer look: This short is without a doubt my faviorite theatrical short. That is a large library and given my love of Looney Tunes and Tom and Jerry, a tall order, and others certainly come close. I mean I bought a 40 short compliation called best of space jam just to get Hot Cross Bunny, it's a close race.. but it's one this short wins. It's got great timing, gorgeous animation and tons of great laughs and while it's throughly tied to the 40's it was born in, that creates an old fashiond charm to it. It's far and away one of disney's best cartoons ever, so if you please, join me under the cut to find out why.

Mr Duck Steps out came out in 1940 and is notable as the very first apperance of Daisy, and with an opener like this, it's easy to see why she stuck around.

It's also got a power house team behind it: Besides Disney's fantastic as always staff from them, it was directed by Jack King. Jack is someone I just really looked into and shame on me: With how much I love this short, I shoudl've done this way sooner because as it turns out King's career is drenched in Donald Duck Classics. King started his career as an animator, only moving up to director after leaving Disney to work at Warner Bros. His first efforts were the much malinged Buddy Cartoons, along with a few starring attempted star beans the cat.

Thankfully he moved back to Disney which not only bumped him up to director (Albeit uncredited because animation directors went uncredited back then which was awful), where he found his Niche: By then Donald Duck had started his solo career and King proceeded to direct most of his shorts from then on out exclusivley worked witht he duck.. and it was a match made in heaven. King perfectly got the duck's style, how to direct his temper and thus most of his shorts with donald are classics. A few duds from the ones of his I have seen but you can't win em all. He directed faviorites of mine such as Modern Inventions (His first Donald Duck Short), Donald's Ostrich, and the Hockey Champ and i'm defintely going to watch more

The other key to his success was another legend, the guy who made Donald what he is on screen and page Carl Barks. Yes something I often forget and the public at large seems to is Carl Barks was writer and story director on a LOT of Donald Duck Shorts. You can tell too as the more put upon everyman from his comics is present: He may not speak as much, but he's there. Barks really got how to bring out the best in donald and how to make him look good and with an all star team of animators. Combine him with a director who really got the character and you get magic.

Mr Duck Steps out Preemered on June 6th 1940, making this a celebration of it's 84th anniversary as well , if a few days late. It was distributed by RKO and other than that I don't have much. This short is great, I wish I knew more about it, let's begin.

The short has a simple setup: Donald in a banger outfit that's rightfully gotten a funko in Disney's 20th anniversary wave... which so far is donald doing a temper tantrum, in his black sailor suit from the comics, in this banger outfit and for some reason, with heart eyes. One of these things is out of place and it's the heart eyes. It's cute and all but the guy has a massive career and costumes to pull from. Come on.

At any rate Donald has a date tonight and does some really fun dancing to some 40's music. The dancing animation is REALLY fucking smooth and one of the best things this short has, with the moves being smooth as butter.

Unfortunately for him, his Nephew's want to tag along. I love them dancing right behind him and when he opens the door and realizes there there, using his cane like a hook to pull them back in the house.

Huey , Unsettling Yellow Dewey and Louie are prominent here and while I used to hate the classic versions for being identical i've mostly come around. I still PREFER that they have seperate distinct personalities, the Ducktales Reboot versions are still far and away the best, taking elements from different versions and separating them into three distinct people with designs that make it easy to tell them apart.

That said the three in one version CAN work: It worked in the comics as having three gave them more flexiblity and Scrooge more of a crew, yet characterization wise still fill just one slot, making a freudian trio with their uncles. Likewise they work very well when their the absolute worst, little hellions who are like living in a living nightmare and put their uncle through a LOT. There the numbers game means Donald can't beat them easily. It also works in more benign examples of showing him up like the hockey champ.

So for this short it works well that Donald's outnumbered: he rightfully wants a night to himself and while he shoudl've got a sitter, his frustration and antics towards the kids feel entirely understandable when they keep following him, taking his choclates for daisy and nearly getting strangled for it, back when that was a funny punchline and not child abuse.

Enter daisy complete with fan fare. I've always loved it, the fact she has a curtain to announce herself, the fact there's this random fan fare, the fact the fan fare dosen't land as much as this isn't a new character to modern viewers so much as "One of the core cast for 84 years now". I also love Donald's rebound of "Hehehe I brought my nephews, weh". Clarence Nash's delivery is great. His delivery as Daisy and the boys also works and feels mostly distinct, though I do get why June Foray and Tress MacNeile have both dubbed over him in some versions. I still go with the original but I get wanting a voice that actually sounds like daisy and not exactly like her boyfriend.

Donald gives the kids a quarter for ice cream, another delivery I love. While Tony Anselmo is my faviorite Donald, Nash really can't be understated: while the voice itself is impressive, how expressive he can get with it is remarkable, able to make donald angry, horny or happy as can be with ease. Screen Donald gets flack for not having his comics counterparts range, but I think with the right scripts, Nash gave donald a lot of great comedic range and had excellent timing, able to make what could've been just a goofy voice one of the best characters in animation. That little "heh" when he says he brought his nephews, the awkward way he says it as he's making it up on the spot it's so good.

So Donald gets to flirt with Daisy, who flirts with him with her ass

How they made THIS sexy I don't know. Maybe i've just lost it. It's hard to tell. But it's also funny and Donald sadly dose'nt get a kiss as the little shits return and try to ruin his date because.. their bored? he tried to leave them behind? They have no souls just a styigan void where it would be?

They dance and that's really the bulk of the short as the boys cut in, Donald cuts back in after turning into a tiger, and it's all amazingly animated. Just fluid, gorgeous and hilaroius to look at. Really smooth stuff. I also like how happy and cheerful daisy is here. She still has some of her later pepper in how fast she moves, but I like her being upbeat but assertive over thier later status quo

I love that short but I prefer them as a stable couple over bickering assholes.. or in the case of three Cabs Daisy an ABUSIVE asshole.

It all ends in the boys deciding to feed donald popcorn kernels, have them explode inside him and ... somehow that'd ruin the date. or kill him their fine with either. So we get a really fun climax as donald dances to the beat of the pop corn, daisy rolls with it and the boys play piano, a manequin like a base guitar and plungers. What makes it work best is not only how fun the animatoin is.. but that Donald comes out on top. The boys are pretty awful and Donald is fine to have one night ot himself. Still should've gotten that sitter but .. 40's. What can you do? He gets covered with kisses and wins the day. It's a sweet ending.

Overall this short is just masterful. I said what i could but it's a feast for the eyes ears and pancreas with some great gags, fast animation and is just.. a joy. It makes me happy every time I watch it and is easy to default to when I want to watch a disney short. It's on D+ if you have it in glorious hd and if not you can still find it on the internet archive, and I recommmend you go seek it out. It's only 9 minutes and every one of those is worth your time. Thanks for reading.

#donald duck #disney #jack king #carl barks #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #daisy duck #animatoin #disney+

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 2 years ago

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Omg hello! Can I request Tangerine and Lemon as older brothers of a kid sibling? How good of older brothers would they be? I don’t mind if it’s afab or gn you can pick! Thank you so much

hii!! I love this, and they'd be amazing big brothers! I did change the reader to teenager, hope that's okay? just so that its easier to imagine etc. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

the three musketeers

tangerine x lemon x f reader (siblings)

wc || 0.7k

warnings || swearing and fluff

also the twins way of speaking aren't typos, I just made them very english lmao

masterlist + rules

taglist

As the youngest sister to a pair of protective fruit-named twins, you were looked after well and always kept out of harm's way. They weren't too fond of their baby teenage sister following in their occupational footsteps, so they did everything they could to deter you from that kind of life.

Every other week, you and your brothers would meet up for a quaint sibling dinner at the location chosen on the spinning wheel. Today the wheel had selected Lemon's city centre flat, which meant he was hosting tonight's dinner for the third time in a row. As you were still living at home, the options were pretty limited; the only options being Lemon's flat or Tan's place. They weren't too keen on going out to dinner in a public location in case things went sideways and you got caught in the crossfire. They didn't mean to come across as controlling, they were just like that because they love you.

As your brothers were often out of town and away on missions, you didn't get to see them as much as you had hoped, but with some simple persuasion, you convinced them to book one day off every fortnight, especially for you. So to prepare for this evening's dinner, you spent the afternoon making the most-favoured dessert of choice; homemade lemon meringue pie. Usually, everyone would bring something as a way to lighten the load for the host; Tangerine tended to bring alcohol, Lemon would take some kind of cheese, and you'd make a sweet treat for after.

"When's it ready? I'm starving," you question, whine drenching your tone. "Been here like half hour, why ain't it in front of me?" you playfully provoke Lemon, discreetly winking to your other brother, who was snickering into the ball of his hand.

"Oi, watch your tone with me, mardy bum," Lemon replies, his hands adjusting his cutesy pink apron. "I'll poison yer food," his eyes widened as if to emphasise.

"Where'd yer get that apron, mate? Knick it off that granny downstairs?" Tangerine chirps in.

"Ha ha ha, you guys are so funny," Lem sarcastically replies with faux playful features. "Get fucked, the pair of ya." He turns on his heel and smacks the spoon on the back of your brother's head.

"Watch it, knobhead," Tan grunts, rubbing the sauce from his hair onto the sofa. "What a dick," nodding over to the now empty doorway. "So, what's been going on with you? What you been up to lately?"

"Nothing much," you shrug, turning your attention to the tv.

"How'd that date go? That guy in your class, what's his name again?"

"It was alright," you shrug again, avoiding your brother's hard gaze.

"He was a dick, weren't he?"

"I don't know… he didn't turn up," you awkwardly laugh. "Hey, want any help in there?" you call out, trying to avoid Tan's persistent questioning.

"You tryna distract me?"

You slide off the sofa, practically running away as you join Lemon in the kitchen. "Shut up… what's up with all these questions, man? Like a fucking gameshow,"

Tangerine chases after you, darting over to join Lemon before you could get there. "Guess what? That shit of a guy she was meant to be seeing? The little prick stitched her up." He interrupts, looking at your brother in approval.

"He did what? Why'd he do that?" Lem asks, placing the tray on the counter, his gaze darting between you both. "That why you been bitchy recently?" he jokes, earning him a firm slap on the chest. "You're right, sorry… what you want us to do? Fuck him up a bit?"

"Scare him? Threaten him?" Tangerine pipes in, arms folded as if the conversation of threats was normal.

"No, god no… just leave it, he's a dick anyway,"

"We're sorry," Lemon says softly, walking around the island to join you, tightly hugging into your side.

"Yeah, sorry… there's better ones out there," Your other brother adds, hugging your other side.

"This is so embarrassing," you mumble, cowering from their affections.

"We'll leave ya alone," Tangerine says, knowing you didn't really mean it.

Immediately wrapping your arms around your brothers, pulling them in. "No… not yet,"

"Sommat burning?"

@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @v1ntage-daydr3am @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @ugh09876554444 @boldlyimportantface @charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossomfan

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #lemon bullet train #lemon #lemon and tangerine #tangerine and lemon #tangerine fluff #lemon fluff #bullet train fanfic #bullet train au #tangerine x sister reader #lemon x sister reader #lemon fanfic #tangerine fanfiction

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jadedbirch · 1 year ago

Text

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

Directed: Martin Bourboulon

Starring: Vincent Cassel, Eva Green, François Civil

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In summary:

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

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

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

Pros:

Hot Eva Green!

bisexual Porthos!

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

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

Cons:

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

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

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

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

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

#the three musketeers #2023 the three musketeers #alexandre dumas #the three musketeers: d'artagnan

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