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wingsofhcpe · 1 month

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thinking about the garrison getting the news of the Savoy massacre.

thinking about Treville reading the missive and feeling the earth dissolve into air under his feet, realising that by giving away the location he doomed his men to the slaughter.

thinking about him having to tell Athos and Porthos.

thinking about Athos going into shock because God, no, not again, he can't have lost his little brother again like he lost Thomas.

thinking about Porthos going into absolute rage- and grief-filled denial and insisting that they leave right now because Aramis is okay, he has to be, he can't have abandoned them, he can't have left them not like Porthos' mother did.

thinking about Athos trying to cope by slipping into professional soldier mode, detached, emotionless and trying to prepare Porthos for what they'll find.

thinking about them seeing the bodies and knowing their brother, their Aramis, is lying dead among the other corpses. And then they find him, and Porthos yells that he's alive and suddenly Athos is crumpling because Aramis is safe he's safe he didn't lose another brother. Treville scoops up Aramis in his arms and holds him tight for a moment, just one, because Aramis is his salvation too, his survivor, the only of his men who came back alive and thus not all is lost, and Treville vows never to let Aramis suffer again as he did that day.

thinking about Athos and Porthos holding Aramis between them, wrapping him and themselves in blankets to share their body heat and warm him. Aramis waking up and asking for Marsac but then realising Athos and Porthos are here and he breaks, crying and sobbing and begging them not to leave him in the cold all alone with the dead, too. And that is when the three of them vow, All for one and one for all, that it's either all three of them together or not at all. Nobody gets left behind.

thinking about Savoy and brotherhood and the boys just clinging to each other no matter what, because even when all seems lost, they're still the Inseparables, and that will always mean something.

#bbc musketeers #the musketeers #athos #porthos #aramis #captain treville #i want to write the damn fic but im exhausted and i have to wake up super early tomorrow so um here goes i guess #you can measure how much my mental health is deteriorating by how much my hyperfixation intensifies and um. yeah #(we're a week and a half into the semester and I'm already This close to snapping this cant be good)#(but at least i have those three idiots for emotional comfort during strife!!!)#(if aramis can go through savoy and come out smiling i can go through my uni classes. and he'd be proud of me for it.)

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beanghostprincess · 3 months

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*elegantly set's a tea set in a beautiful table* no, let's make it about Sanuso, let's talk about Usopp having his hair down and how that affects Sanji.

Especially if they're not dating yet, I need pathetic Sanji pinning do I have so many thoughts about that, like him going out of the kitchen to give the girls their treats and everyone is looking at Usopp who is just drawing by the deck letting the wind blow his hair, Sanji having to go back to the kitchen because he's having a crisis over how beautiful he looked, him realising he might be gay and being in denial for a while.

Usopp letting his hair down more often and Snaji not being able to handle it so he avoids Usopp.

Nami noticing and trying to match them.

You are a person of culture I want to know your views on this

Oh, okay. Let's make it about Sanuso then *sips tea* (very funny because I am actually drinking tea right now 😭)

Usopp starts to let his hair down more often. Pretty much all the time, actually, unless he truly needs to see properly (when he's fighting or working). So whenever they're not doing anything important, he decides to leave the ponytails and bandanas aside to let his hair loose a little. So, on regular days in the Sunny or whenever they're on a calm island, Usopp's hair is undone.

And that's killing Sanji. It's not that he refuses to admit he likes men. Because. Well- Okay, it's a bit hard for him to admit he likes men. But he doesn't like Usopp. It's just that the sniper looks so ethereal and so gorgeous with his hair undone that it's really, really hard not to focus on him. But he doesn't like like him (that's what he calls it. Because Sanji has the mentality of a fifteen-year-old high school girl in a 2000s teenage rom-com). Except that he definitely "like likes" Usopp because he has never felt this way before and it still happens whenever he looks like he always does. It's just that his hair being long and falling over his shoulders like a chocolate fountain makes him feel all over the place. He ends up accepting that, well, he likes Usopp. Somehow. In some way that is not platonic but it isn't love either. Because it can't be love. Because it would make things uncomfortable between them and he can't let himself ruin the friendship they have. They're so close now. Usopp is probably his best friend out of everybody in the crew and the one who understands him the best. The one he trusts the most for his secrets and deep, intimate conversations in the middle of the night. So he's not risking all of that for a simple, silly crush. Because it's just that, a simple silly crush that will go away the second he gets his shit together.

But it doesn't happen, because Usopp keeps walking around looking oh so beautiful, and Sanji doesn't think he can keep doing this.

He tries to be subtle about it, always telling Usopp if it wouldn't be more comfortable to use one of his bandanas or tie his hair. He's always giving him hats and other possibilities that do not include letting his hair undone. But Usopp is always refusing with a gentle smile because he prefers it this way. He says he appreciates Sanji's concern, but it's fine and it isn't bothersome at all. He likes his hair long and free and wild! And Sanji agrees. He likes it too. But he likes it too much to focus on his daily tasks, and every day seems to be getting harder and harder.

It's even worse in the mornings when Usopp hasn't done his hair routine and hasn't showered yet and his hair is all messy and all over his face. It makes Sanji melt instantly, every time he sees him walking through the kitchen door. Usopp never seems to notice Sanji's reaction, but he always blushes uncontrollably and blames still being half-asleep for his stuttering. Besides, the fact that the guy moves around shirtless all the time with his abs and tits out for everybody to see does not help Sanji at all. He needs a break.

Okay, so the easiest and quickest way of dealing with this is obvious: Let's just ignore the shit out of Usopp. Awesome. Super clever behavior. (<- Running away from your problems but your problems your very hot best friend you're in love with and his long, precious hair).

And Nami notices because Nami isn't stupid. She knows something's going on and she knows it's because of Usopp's hair because, again, she isn't blind and she can tell when Sanji is acting dumb. So she tries to set them up by being silly and a little bitch like always.

Sanji is cooking (his demons away. His demons being his very gaygay feelings for Uso-) and he has been ignoring Usopp for a while now. Not ignoring, per se, just not being with him much? And Usopp can tell but he doesn't think much about it because Sanji just gets like that sometimes. He'll go back to being himself. It's fine (it's not). So Sanji doesn't expect Usopp to come into the kitchen now, because he thought he was hanging out with Nami and that's why he guessed it'd be a good time to cook without any risk of Usopp coming in here. Guess who was completely wrong? Anyway- Sanji is a bit nervous at first because he has realized (fucking finally) that his feelings for Usopp are something real and tangible and he can't escape from them unless he ignores them. But he tries to act like a normal person with normal thoughts (he is not).

When Usopp asks him his question, Sanji is a bit confused and all his worries fade away suddenly:

Sanji: Coconut oil? What do you want coconut oil for? Usopp: Nami said it'd be good for my hair. Sanji: For your hair. Usopp: Yes? Thought you'd know about it with how obsessed you are with food- Sanji: Yes, Usopp, I- I know about the properties of coconut oil. But I am not letting you use it. Usopp: What? Why?! Sanji: Because! We don't have that much left and I wanted to make cookies for the girl- Usopp: Aha? Sanji: And you. The crew. Shut up. The point is, even if you could use it once without wasting it completely until the next island, I don't trust you with my ingredients, and- Usopp: Then you do it. Sanji: What? Usopp: Just put it on my hair. It can't be that hard for you. C'mon. Sanji: And does it have to be now? Usopp: Not really, but Nami keeps talking about it every damn second and she's getting on my nerves. If I don't do it now she won't shut up. Sanji: Usopp, I- Can't you see I'm busy? Usopp: You're cooking dinner at 3pm, Sanji. You're not busy. Sanji: I'm not sure if this is- Usopp: Please? Please. I will do anything. Sanji: You know I can't fight you when you say that. It makes me feel guilty. Like kicking a reindeer. Usopp: Nah, you'd kick Chopper if you needed to but you can't say no to my beautiful eyes. Sanji: Do you want your hair oiled or do you prefer ending up bald? Usopp: You won't do that. C'mon! Get on with the coconut oil! Sanji: Right now? Usopp: Please? Sanji: You're insufferable. Usopp: You love me.

And Sanji isn't brave enough to say that yes, he does love him.

So he does whatever Usopp says, and follows him to the bathroom. He kind of feels he's about to have a heart attack right now when he sees Usopp washing his hair first for this. It's too erotic. He can't look. He won't look. But Usopp is talking to him about some stuff he did with Luffy earlier. Fishing? Playing a game? Whatever, Sanji is not listening to him. He's trying so, so hard not to stare at him. The time passes and the cook miraculously does not die. His heartbeat is still going wild, though, especially when Usopp sits in front of him with his damp hair for Sanji to start working. He should've said no. He really should've just said no. But he sits behind him anyway and stares at Usopp's wide back being decorated with his silky, curly strands of hair. It's hypnotizing. Sanji even thinks it's inappropriate to touch Usopp's hair with how precious it is. He feels like he's unworthy of this. But Usopp won't stop telling him to do it already, and Sanji thinks that if he starts now he will finish sooner.

To not make this extremely long: Long story short, Sanji doesn't die. Usopp keeps talking and talking and it actually feels really nice after a minute. Usopp always has this talent for making Sanji comfortable anywhere they're at and at any time. He has missed this, after a long time of ignoring him. And Usopp seems to be enjoying it too, apparently. He keeps saying how good it smells and how hungry it's making him. And Sanji responds with a "mm. Perhaps I let you have a bite of those cookies after all" / "You were going to do it anyway" / "You don't know that" / "Nah, I know". And he hates admitting that Usopp is right.

When they're done, Usopp thanks Sanji, and Sanji wishes, deep inside, that they had to be together longer. Oh. But then Usopp comments something like "Fuck. I need to dry my hair" / "Huh. And the problem? You wanted this in the first place" / "I knoooow. But it's so tiring. It used to be easier when I had shorter hair" / "I could help you" / "What?" / "What?" / "Do you want to dry my hair?" / "What? No. I did not- Not if you don't-" / "No. That'd- That'd be nice. Thank you, Sanji".

That's when he knows he's fucked, because it's the first time that he almost says "I love you" out loud and he has to bite his tongue to not let his heart speak for him.

So basically, Sanji helps Usopp dry his hair. It's intimate. It's sweet. Sanji isn't that nervous after all, because Usopp never shuts up and he realizes his favorite sound is whenever he's speaking. That he actually hates drying his hair because the loud sounds make him unable to hear Usopp properly, but also loves it because Usopp is letting him take care of something as important as his hair. And they're also so, so close... But he doesn't think about it. He won't think about it.

But he inevitably thinks about it when they finish, Usopp's hair a bit all over the place, but extremely beautiful and even shinier than usual. It seems softer, too. Sanji can't help but want to touch it. There's this silence between them but it isn't at all uncomfortable, even if it makes Sanji turn all red and laugh in a way he never thought he could.

Usopp looks at Sanji a bit shyly and says: "Sorry for making you do all of this. I think I've forced you a little, right?" / "What? No! I did it because I wanted to. Although you could've certainly been less intense about the oil thing, but- But it was nice."

But then the sniper shrugs, looking away with a look that clearly tells Sanji he's thinking about something way too hard. "Do you think I should cut my hai-" / "No! ...I mean. Why would you do that? I think it looks great. And you like it. A lot." / "I dunno. It's very high maintenance? I wouldn't want to waste all your ingredients on thi-" / "I don't think it'd be a waste. Not if it's-" / "Mm?" / "It's just- Nothing. I just think it'd be a crime for you to cut it. We can just buy more oils. For your hair, specifically. And if you ever don't feel like taking care of it, I think I did a pretty good job" / "Don't be stupid. You don't want to take care of-" / "Yes, I do. I would, I mean. If you wanted to. It's relaxing. Like cooking but without the eating part" / "Are you thinking about cooking my hair?" / "Kind of looks like a chocolate fountain" / "That's the only thing that comes to your mind when you look at me?"

A loose strand of hair ends on Usopp's face, but he does nothing about it. Sanji acts instinctively, moving it away and placing it behind his ear. "Not the only thing."

And I wish I could say they kiss, but it probably ends there. Sanji realizes what he said and makes up an excuse to run to the kitchen while he leaves Usopp all confused, blushing, and like a complete mess on the bathroom floor.

When the sniper gets out of there, Nami winks at him and says "Your hair looks softer, huh? Did the extra hands help too, besides the coconut oil?" And he doesn't know if to yell at her or thank her.

#me and my three ways of writing dialogue on a same tumblr post bc i couldn't decide what the fuck i wanted to do #look i wake up early tomorrow and i needed to write this quickly i hope you like this rushed thing 😭😭#also anon i love you but now i want to write and i don't have the time aghhhh #this is such a great idea love you for the undone hair thing it makes me go insane #sanji is so real because i would literally die #nami is a little bitch and i love her #one piece #black leg sanji #usopp #sanuso #cat burglar nami

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 8 months

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heya, i have to wake up in three hours but! here's another lil human au snippet! ft. lightly implied Laughingstock! disclaimer i am so so tired so don't come at me for typos or strangely worded sentences or missing info <3

Before heading home, Eddie swings by a charming little store he’s been to once or twice before. He usually goes to the chain store by his house, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with the hustle and bustle and the endless aisles. This little store is quiet, nice, and strangely has everything anyone could need.

The lot is mostly empty at this hour, so Eddie claims a spot right at the front. As with the other times, the windows are littered with displays and stickers - half off on this, sale on that. Eddie enters Howdy’s Place with the chime of the door’s shopkeeper’s bell. He’ll get what he needs and get out, quick and easy and peacefu-

Boisterous laughter slams into Eddie like a hammer, so sudden that he jumps in place. An employee stocking cans nearby glances weirdly at him. Eddie clears his throat and hurries into the nearest aisle as the laughter tapers off. The silence barely lasts a second before loud chatter starts up. It’s too fast and muffled for Eddie to understand, but he can pick out two distinct voices - one deep, one less so but still decidedly masculine.

Eddie tries to tune it out as he gathers what he needs. Toothpaste, some paper towels, shampoo. For the hell of it, he nabs a box of classic bran muffins from the spacious food section. He lingers for a moment, enjoying how far-away the conversation seems at the other corner of the store. Unfortunately, theft is illegal, so Eddie is forced to move towards the noise.

A strange thing about the store - it’s a combination general store, antique shop, and diner, complete with a miniature gift shop separating the two. One long checkout counter stretches from the open store area, behind the gift shop, and into the diner, where the conversation is coming from. An interesting setup, but an understandable one. It allows anyone behind the counter to move fluidly between customers and sections.

As Eddie approaches, the conversation becomes slightly clearer.

“-said, no wonder you didn’t get her number!” the deeper voice barks, and the two dissolve into that almost-too-loud laughter again.

As it tapers off, the other voice says, “Sounds like a real charmer! But really, you oughta be careful, Barn. One of these days someone’s gonna throw a right hook at ya.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. A transatlantic accent? He hasn’t heard that anywhere outside of real old movies and a queen he once knew. It sounds natural too, like the man was born to sound like he belongs on a 1920s radio show. It nudges something in the back of Eddie’s mind. He’s started to get really sick of that nudge.

“Oh, this guy did.”

“No kidding? I don’t see a shiner.”

“Well, yeah. I went left.”

Both of them laugh again, and Eddie feels a tiny tug at the corner of his mouth. That wasn’t funny enough to garner an actual laugh in his opinion, but it wasn’t unfunny.

Eddie steps up to the counter and quietly puts his acquired items on it, not wanting to interrupt. He chances a glance to the side - walking space in front of the counter’s length lets him see right down into the diner.

A large man with dyed-blue hair and an interesting fashion sense is at the bar, talking to an employee leaning against the other side. The employee doesn’t really catch Eddie’s gaze, but the other man… Eddie swears he’s seen him before. He studies him from the corner of his eye, not wanting to be rude but unable to mind his business.

“Our bouncer didn’t even get a chance at the action - the idiot knocked himself out tryin’ a second swing!” The customer says. His deep voice, wavering with humor, only adds to the sense of familiarity. Metal glints in his right ear. Eddie knows this man from somewhere.

The employee shakes his head, tutting. His busy hands polish a vintage pitcher. “I swear, you get all the crazies.”

“Makes for a good story, though.” The customer takes a sip from his tall milkshake and scoffs. “Though if it wasn’t all well-ending, amusing bull, I doubt I’d be so tolerant.”

Minutes drag by as the two keep talking. Eddie goes from patiently waiting to awkwardly trying to get the employees attention. If only there was someone else behind the counter, but the only other staff member is elsewhere, likely still stocking shelves.

The two men are too absorbed in their little world, even though both are facing Eddie’s way. The customer has both elbows on the counter, one of them bent to prop up his chin. The employee has his hip leaned against the edge as they chat. They’re obviously very familiar with each other, and clearly deeply enjoy each other's company.

Still - and Eddie is sorry to say, but it’s bad customer service. He’s not in a rush, but he’d still like to be on his way home. He could be fishing out the complex keys right now. He checks his phone - he’s been here for nearly fifteen minutes. Picking out the items took less than five.

Eddie sighs, staring at the various cigarette packs displayed behind the counter. He’s never seen the appeal in smoking, but as the laughter starts up again, he almost wishes he did. He’s going to treat himself to a very long shower once he gets home.

The store’s other employee walks behind the counter, carrying a box. Eddie lights up. Finally - she pointedly clears her throat and heads into the back.

The constant conversation stalls for the barest moment, and he looks over. The customer grins at him for a second - lord he’s handsome - before turning that grin towards his friend.

“You’re losin’ your touch, Howds,” he teases, bringing his shake straw to his lips.

“I resent that statement. You’re just distracting.”

“Lil’ me? Distracting? C’mon, you can just tell me I’m pretty to my face. I’ll take it like a champ, I swear!”

“Ha, good try.” The employee sets the pitcher down and starts to mosey in Eddie’s direction. “Your ego is big enough for the both of us as is. One more compliment and your head’ll pop like a balloon.”

“Well, given that most balloons don’t really pop, they just kinda deflate slowly-”

“Sorry for the wait!” the employee says loudly in a glaringly obvious customer service tone. He stops in front of Eddie with a cardboard smile. At the other end of the counter, the familiar man snickers and hides his grin behind his drink. “I trust you found everything you did - and didn’t! - need.”

Eddie just stares up at him for a moment. At six-one, Eddie hasn’t felt small in a very long time. He usually stands at least a full inch above other people. This employee - Howdy, his name tag states - has several more on him.

“Uh, y-yes, I uh, I did,” Eddie stammers, glancing at his items.

“Wonderful! And again, my sincerest apologies for the delay. My friend makes a game out of keeping me from my job.” Howdy shoots his ‘friend’ a glare with enough heat in it to make an ice cube sweat.

“No worries.”

Howdy scans the items at an almost frightening speed. Beep, into a paper bag. Beep, in. Beep, beep - “Oh, no.”

“What?” Eddie says, dread plucking at his ribs as Howdy holds the bran muffins and shakes his head. “Is there somethin’ wrong?”

“Indeed there is! You’re making a mistake with these. They’re absolutely horrible, I tell ya - and bad for you, too!” Howdy tuts and puts the box to the side. “No, no, you don’t want those.”

“I… don’t?”

“Not if you knew better! Lucky for you, I’m here to set you straight. What you need is-” he snaps his fingers, “Barnaby, be a pal and-”

“Already on it,” ‘Barnaby’ says, appearing next to Eddie.

If Eddie weren’t already paralyzed, he’d jump right out of his skin from how Barnaby towers over him. He has to be a scant inch or so shorter than Howdy, but he still makes Eddie feel tiny. Unfortunately, Barnaby is even more handsome up close.

“Here ya go.” Barnaby hands a plastic container to Howdy and taps it, smiling lazily down at Eddie. “I’d take his advice on this one. Those bran-named muffins may sound fancy, but they’re pretty crumby! You want muffins of quality. Real breadwinners!

Eddie can’t help a soft laugh. “Breadwinners, heh, that’s a good one.”

“Are you selling these or am I?” Howdy says, raising a bushy eyebrow.

“Hey, I’m just doin’ what you asked! I’m bein’ a pal.”

“And I - I’m sorry," Eddie interjects, "but you’re awfully familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Eh, I’ve been around, but uh… you ever been to [INSERT GAY BAR NAME HERE]?”

Howdy clears his throat. “I’m trying to make a sale here, Barn. You can flirt on your own dime when you’re not costing me mine.”

“Didja know your nose gets redder when you’re jealous?”

Howdy rolls his eyes and shoves Barnaby in the diner’s direction. Barnaby goes with a hearty snicker. Despite the joke, Eddie thinks it has some merit as Howdy scans the final item and rings him up, considerably frostier than before.

Belatedly, Eddie realizes that he didn’t actually agree to the different muffins. Too late now. “Say, what kind of muffins are those?”

“Poppyseed-lemon.”

Eddie relaxes - that is a lot better than boring bran. “Y’know, my mother loved poppyseed-lemon muffins.”

“Did she now,” Howdy drawls.

“Like you wouldn’t believe! If baking was so much as mentioned, she’d jump right on houndin’ us to whip some up for her, or send us to go buy some. We’d never even get a taste! They’d be gone the moment they hit the air, I tell ya.” Eddie chuckles. “Took me a while to understand what all the fuss is about, but man was she right. They are good!”

“Uh-huh. Well, we have a fresh batch delivered every morning. They’re not the same type every time, mind you, but I can promise that they’re all of the highest quality.”

“Breadwinners, right?” Eddie jokes. Howdy doesn’t blink, but Barnaby snorts. He’ll take it. “I might have to come by more often, if that’s the case! Thank you kindly, sir.”

“Mhm, have a good day.” Howdy hands him the bag and strides away without a glance. The dismissal is clear as day. “Say, Barn, did you hear about the racket one of those cult crackpots stirred up at our dear friend’s tearoom?”

Eddie doesn’t catch the tail-end of the sentence as he hurries away, but he frowns. Cult? What cult? There’s a cult? He certainly didn’t hear of one before moving here, and none of his background checks had turned up anything of the sort. He hopes it was just a figure of speech.

The door chimes again as Eddie leaves. It isn’t until he’s in his car that the embarrassment of that whole exchange catches up with him. If he had a nickel for every time he’d made a fool of himself in front of a gorgeous, strangely familiar man, he’d have three nickels. At the rate he’s going, he’ll either be rich, or he’ll have to move.

Eddie subtly tries to peek around the store’s window displays from the safety of his car. He catches a scant glimpse of blue hair - come to think of it, it’s a similar shade to Wally’s. But where Wally’s had, to Eddie’s memory, been uniformly dyed right down to his eyebrows, Barnaby’s rich brown roots were obvious. His beard and eyebrows weren’t dyed, either.

As Eddie relaxes back into his seat, he re-reads at the store’s name. The color drains from his face and he barely restrains himself from slamming his forehead against the steering wheel.

Oh, of course. Of course he made a fool of himself in front of the owner. Eddie can never come back here again. And it was such a nice store…

#wait wym this is almost 2k words what the Fuck!#ok! the writing gods blessed me tonight i guess!#anyway slight context -#in my mind there's a whole Plot and stuff for this au #where it starts off with eddie running into The Group™️ and meeting them mostly separately #before they all meet up and go 'hey yeah you guys ran into eddie from high school too? cool. he's ours now'#and forcibly drag eddie into their little Circle #wh modern human au #snippets from the bog #also sorry about the [INSERT GAY BAR NAME HERE] lmfao i cant come up with one atm #i want it to be wh-related and Clever #but i am not very clever on a good day and this has been a bad one! and again! im tired!#i. dont know how to tag this. whatever! if you see it you see it!#ok im going to sleep. for a whopping three hours before my alarm goes off. *less than three. Sigh.#i always do this! its like 'oh i have to wake up early tomorrow! lets not sleep at all! im feeling so creative!'#gonna go think about this au's laughingstock as i drift to sleep #FOR THREE. HOURS.#have i mentioned the three hours????

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