#bbc musketeers
Athos: You’re stupid
Aramis: Really? That’s it?
Athos: Give it time, it’ll eat at you
*two hours later*
Aramis: …Am I stupid?
Porthos: Yeah, a little
Aramis: DAMN HIM
Really Porthos? Just a little? XD
He’s being nice
Athos:*over the phone* -How did he die?
D’Artagnan: Cats ate his face
Athos: I think you’re confused, I’m asking about Cardinal Richelieu, how did he die?
D’Artagnan: Cats ate his face
Athos: For f- look just hand the phone over to Porthos would you?
Porthos:*taking the phone*Athos?
Athos: Porthos, how did the Cardinal die?
Porthos: Cats ate his face, D’Artagnan knows more about it than I do
Athos: You’re stupid
Aramis: Really? That’s it?
Athos: Give it time, it’ll eat at you
*two hours later*
Aramis: …Am I stupid?
Porthos: Yeah, a little
Aramis: DAMN HIM
Treville: If we don’t figure out this security breach, every negative email we’ve ever written about Rochefort is going to be automatically sent to him
D’Artagnan: What emails?
Treville, reading aloud: “Rochefort’s favorite songs: Creep by TLC, and Creep by Radiohead.” Remember THAT?
D’Artagnan:*shrugs*
Treville: How about you Porthos, does this ring a bell? “There’s no way Rochefort hasn’t strangled at least one stripper”
Porthos: I stand by that
Treville: And you Athos; “Rochefort eats his yogurt like he is punishing it for disappointing him”
Athos: Well that’s not that bad
Treville: “-P.S. we should kill him”
Athos:Ah
Athos: I have a PHD-
Aramis: A Pretty Horrible Dick?
Athos: …What if I told you there are a multitude of ways to be hurt? Physically?
*teaching the new recruits*
D’Artagnan: First off; through unimaginable violence all things are possible, so jot that down
Athos: Is there something deeply evil living within me or am I just up past my bedtime?
Aramis: The Queen is very beautiful
Porthos: So are Mountain Lions but we don’t pet those
Constance: I relate to Belle because she loves books and likes people for who they are
D’Artagnan: I relate to Tinkerbell because she needs attention or she dies
Athos: I like my coffee like I like my nights
Athos:Dark
Athos:Endless
Athos: Impossible to sleep through
Aramis: I’m not THAT dramatic
D’Artagnan: When I asked you why you were wearing a bejeweled tiara last night, you quoted the entirety of Shakespeare’s “All The Word’s a Stage” monologue from “As You Like It” and then broke down crying
D’Artagnan: And do you know the scariest part? You were SOBER
Musketeers has ruined flintlock weapons for me. They did such a god job with the flashes in that show I’m always slightly disappointed at everyone else.
Pay your pyrotechnics team a little more. Up your game netflix.
Porthos: Hypothetically speaking
Porthos: At what point does fire become too much fire?
Porthos?? Fire???
Yes, I WILL take the slimmest of excuses to post about him.
[ID: Sketch in dark red on red of Aramis. He is wearing a scarf around his hips, hanging down low over one side and just about providing some modesty, and a pair of calf-high loose boots with bands that say ‘CHANEL’ on them. He has a collar around his neck and in one hand is holding up a leash between his thumb and forefinger. End ID]
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Aramis borrowing clothes again: Porthos’ boots, Athos’ scarf and, for the sake of avoiding being accused of having no garments of his own, his own collar and leash.
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[ID: Sketch on grey with red shading of Athos and Aramis. Aramis has his back turned so he is facing Athos, who is sitting on the back of a sofa, with one arm around Aramis’s shoulders and the other holding a beer or cider bottle between Aramis’s legs. He is glaring straight ahead. End ID]
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My favourite muskie ship is portamis, but far, but one cannot discount the chemisry between Athos and Aramis, nor that between Athos and alcohol…hence, Athos x bottle of undisclosed alcohol x Aramis
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[ID: Sketch on pale purple of Aramis standing in front of a table. He is shirtless and his trousers are open. He has one hand in his pocket and the other raised, holding a Murano glass dip pen between his index and middle fingers. His body faces the table, but he is looking to the side seriously. End ID]
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Time for random, simpler sketchy nonsense until (hopefully) art slump ceases
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We solemnly swear that we are up to no good.
“Forgive us Father, for we are back on our bullshit”