#i wish tumblr made me two columns :(((

[karuvapatta]

Here comes another part of the Untitled Jonelias Magic AU, enjoy!

Once again, huge thanks to @ceaseless-bitcher, the rest of the Discord server, and the tumblr folk for the likes and reblogs and tags. You're the best! <3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

***

Whoever was in charge of the archive ought to be persecuted for his crimes. It was a tiny, windowless room, stacked from floor to ceiling with unlabelled boxes and stacks of loose papers. After three hours of digging for a single report, Jon was about ready to commit an act of unspeakable violence.

He returned to the laboratory, fuming. Other researchers and lab techs took one look at his face and mostly shuffled out of the way as he made his way back to the work station and slammed the papers down, readying himself for the long, tedious process of comparing several columns of numbers to check for trends and discrepancies. He would still need to run them by Sasha later to do some proper statistical analysis, but at least he could have some basis to work on…

“Um… Sims?”

“What is it?” Jon snapped.

The unfortunate technician took a hasty step back. “Master Bouchard is looking for you.”

“So? He could have sent a message,” Jon said.

Bouchard did not care about the state of the archive room, that much was apparent. It was disgraceful, that something like this was even allowed—

“Um—”

“What?”

All of a sudden, Jon realized that he was being watched. The people around him were giving him odd looks; some were exchanging whispered comments. And it wasn’t that hard to guess what they thought about him, and what they were saying behind his back. Some were even openly questioning his relationship with Master Bouchard, and what might have prompted the man to take on someone like Jon to be his apprentice. Jon wasn’t doing himself any favours by openly disrespecting his master’s wishes.

What if Bouchard listened to the gossip? What if he realized he had made a mistake, that he was wasting his time, that—

Jon shook his head. “Right,” he said. “I will go see him now.”

Each step he took felt awkward, now that he knew he was being stared at. Most days he could ignore it and focus on the work in front of him, but now and again it would catch him unawares. It wasn’t just his own reputation at stake; not anymore.

Bouchard would be in his office at this hour. The way was familiar by now. Rosie waved him through with a polite smile, and Jon offered her a curt nod before letting himself into the room.

“Master,” he said. “You wanted to see me?”

Bouchard wasn’t at his desk; that was unusual. But there was a sitting area in the corner where he occasionally conducted meetings. He was there now, lounging in an armchair and engrossed in a book. Jon didn’t get a chance to read the title before he shut the covers and put it away.

At his invitation, Jon took the opposite seat. There was a pot of freshly brewed tea and two cups on the table between them; Jon grabbed it hastily and poured the tea. He glanced at his master’s face and stirred a spoonful of sugar into his cup.

Bouchard took a sip of tea and exhaled with obvious pleasure; Jon tried to hide his smile. But his patience was running out quickly. Surely Bouchard had a better reason for summoning him.

Apparently his restlessness was obvious. Bouchard sighed and set down his cup.

“Enough pleasantries, Mr Sims,” he said.

“You haven’t said anything yet, Master,” Jon said.

“And yet you’re already bored,” Bouchard said, the corner of his lip twitching. “I take it the lab requires your constant supervision?”

“It requires some supervision,” Jon said, and immediately felt the urge to bite off his own tongue. It wasn’t his place to criticize the way Master Bouchard managed his department. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” Bouchard said. “And do not lie to me, please. I much prefer impertinence to dishonesty.”

“That is a relief,” Jon said. “I’m a notoriously bad liar.”

Bouchard chuckled lightly. It accentuated the lines on his face, particularly around his pale eyes, and the upturned curve of his mouth. And it wasn’t really fair how much that look suited him.

“Well,” Jon cleared his throat, and adjusted the collar of his shirt. “Is there anything you wanted to discuss with me?”

“Indeed there is,” Bouchard said. “Have you made any progress with your training?”

All of a sudden Jon realized how relaxed he had felt up until this moment. But now his posture stiffened, and a weight pressed down on his chest.

“No,” he said. “I have not and you know it.”

Was it disappointment, then, in Bouchard’s solemn expression? It had to be. He had every reason to be disappointed with Jon. Impertinence might have been acceptable but incompetence was decidedly not. And Jon really wasn’t proving himself in that regard, was he?

“And why do you think that is?” Bouchard asked.

“I don’t know,” Jon snapped, frustration boiling over. “I am trying, I really am. I just—I don’t know what it is I’m doing wrong.”

He rubbed his chin and covered his mouth with a hand, eyes fliting around the room, trying to focus on something, anything that wasn’t Bouchard’s knowing gaze.

A long, heavy silence followed. His master was clearly waiting for Jon to come up with a decent excuse, or at least a reasonable explanation for the numerous failures; for all the wasted hours and sleepless nights. But it ought to have been clear by now that Jon had nothing to offer. So what was he still waiting for?

“Jon,” Bouchard said, after Jon remained stubbornly quiet. And that—he almost never addressed Jon by his name. It was improper, it implied a level of familiarity that they decidedly did not share; Jon flinched in his seat. “If I may offer a suggestion?”

That startled a laugh out of Jon, bitter and somewhat unpleasant. Now, after all this time, Bouchard wanted to help? “Of course,” he said.

“Will you do as I say?”

“I—” Jon hesitated, but it did not last long. He was past the point of desperation – or, come to think of it, pride. “Yes. I will.”

“Good,” Bouchard nodded. “Then take off the bracelet.”

“The—what?”

“You heard me.”

“I did hear you,” Jon said, incredulous. Was Bouchard toying with him, again? “I just—I can’t do that, Master. You know I can’t.”

“Why not?”

The bracelet had been his near-constant companion for the past twenty years; Jon touched it now, seeking reassurance from its presence. He felt the familiar intricate pattern, the faint pulsating rhythm of it, the subtle way it shifted and reacted to his touch. And—how could he explain it? Why would he need to? It was embarrassing enough that he had to wear it at all, and now Bouchard was expecting him to admit to this—this weakness?

“Because I can’t control my magic without it,” Jon snapped.

Bouchard looked as if he was waiting for something. It seemed like he would be willing to wait a long time for—what, exactly? For Jon to have a miraculous breakthrough—

--wait.

“I—I can’t control my magic,” Jon repeated, slow and incredulous. “Really? That’s it?” He turned towards Bouchard, who was watching him intently. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did,” Bouchard said. “You didn’t listen.”

“I did listen! I just didn’t understand—” Jon’s voice drifts off. His hand is wrapped loosely around his wrist, covering the bracelet. “And now you want me to take it off?”

“Yes,” Bouchard said. “You have been relying on it for, how long now? Several years?”

“Twenty,” Jon said flatly.

At that, Bouchard went still. He stared at Jon with wide eyes, as if he was seeing him for the first time. It occurred to Jon that it was the only time so far he had seen the man genuinely surprised.

“I’m sorry—twenty years?” Bouchard said. “Oh, Jon… what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Jon said. He was feeling slightly nauseous. His tea had cooled down in the meantime but it was still refreshingly bitter; he took a long gulp to settle his stomach. “How would taking it off now possibly help me?”

“You need to get used to relying on yourself again,” Bouchard said after a moment. “Your own willpower, your own self-control. It is not something that can be exercised for half an hour twice a week.”

“Oh, and it’s that easy?” Jon snapped.

“No one said anything about easy.”

Jon set down his half-empty cup with too much force. Lukewarm tea sloshed inside and spilled partially onto the saucer beneath.

“Thank you for the advice, Master,” he said stiffly, pushing himself upwards. “Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?”

Bouchard measured him with a cool gaze, eyebrows pinched together. Perhaps Jon had gone too far this time – he expected the man to lash out, to discipline him, or just end his apprenticeship altogether. But Bouchard merely sighed, and shook his head.

“No, that is all. You may go.”

Off Jon went, and tried to tell himself that what he felt was relief, and not disappointment.

[akusaimonth]

AkuSaiMonth 2023: July 8 - August 7

And here we go again! Welcome to AkuSaiMonth, a month of celebrating AkuSai & LeaIsa!

AkuSaiMonth 2023 Bingo

Just like last year, we will be playing bingo again! The prompts on the bingo cards are randomized! Which means, every participant will have their prompts in 1 of 30 different arrangements!

Where can I get the Bingo Card?

To claim your personal AkuSaiMonth Bingo card,

click >> HERE! <<

Using the link on the same device and browser should (in theory) always lead to the same card. However, I would strongly recommend also saving the card by either using the print button on top or by making a screenshot.

How does it work?

The goal is to get one “Bingo!” during the month (Jul 7 – Aug 8) by filling 5 prompts in a row, column or diagonal. 

This could mean one post every week, for example:

Post 1: Saturday, July 8 (IsaLea Day)

Post 2: Saturday, July 15

Post 3: Saturday, July 22

Post 4: Sunday, July 29

Post 5: Monday, August 7 (AkuSai Day) -> Bingo! <3

You are of course allowed to do less than five prompts (one is perfectly fine! <3) or even fill out the entire bingo card (I wish I had your time management skills)!

Rules:

General Rules

• The event is open to everybody, there is no official list of participants and you don't have to register for it.

• You can start and end your participation at any time!

• You can fill as many prompts as you want at whatever schedule works for you!

• The goal is to achieve one bingo, but this is meant as motivation only; it’s not an obligation or restriction!

• Everybody who reaches one bingo "wins".

• There is no prize for "winning" and there is no punishment for "not winning"

Posting Rules

• The event is held on instagram & tumblr, but you can post wherever you want.

• On tumblr tag your works as #AkuSaiMonth and #ASM23

• On instagram tag your works as #AkuSaiMonth and #AkuSaiMonth23

• Mention @akusaimonth in your works both on tumblr and instagram so I can’t miss it!

• Don't hesitate to send me your works per dm if I somehow do end up missing them anyway!

• On tumblr all posts will be reblogged to the @akusaimonth tumblr

• On instagram I will collect all posts in the stories. It is also possible to invite @akusaimonth as a collaborator to showcase and collect your works on the @akusaimonth instagram page as well. All rights to your works remain with you of course!

• If you post to other sites (e.g. AO3, twitter, wattpad, youtube, ...) you can send me the link in a DM on either tumblr or instagram so I can add that link to the instagram stories and tumblr (assuming you didn't post it there yourself). Please let me know where you would like me to put the link and whether it contains NSFW content or not.

• I do retain the right to not share content I find in bad taste and I will ask you to remove it from the #AkuSaiMonth tags as well. I don't expect any problems, but just to be save.

Content Rules

• All forms of content are allowed, including but not limited to fanfiction, fanart, edits, videos, music, …

• The “/” in some prompts means you can use either or multiple of the terms

• All prompts are open for interpretation, there’s no right or wrong way to use any of them!

• You can stay within the framework of canon or create AUs or crossovers or whatever you want, everything is great!

• All content has to be made by you! Stolen fan work is NOT allowed.

• AI generated work is strongly discouraged

• If you want to include fan content made by other people in your edit/video/… you have to get permission first and add credit to the original creator/s!

• Official material can be used with no restrictions

NSFW Rules

• NSFW is allowed!

• Consuming NSFW content happens at the viewers own discretion.

Tumblr:

• Please post visual NSFW under a “Read More” or with the appropriate community label

• NSFW content will be reblogged with an #nsfw tag

Instagram:

• Keep the Instagram NSFW rules in mind (cropping, censoring, ...)

• Please add a NSFW warning in the first two slides of any visual NSFW works.

Disclaimer

• AkuSaiMonth is a fan event only and stands in no relation to any copyright holders of Kingdom Hearts or any of its content or characters.

• The rights to all works remain with their creators and the copyright holders.

• AkuSaiMonth is not responsible for any content created during the event.

FAQ

Who is behind the event?

Original creator and host from 2014 – 2019 is the wonderful @misomilk! This year’s host is @herzblutrose

I lost my card!

If you remember your Bingo Card ID, then that’s absolutely no problem. Let me know and I’ll give you a permalink to the card you pulled!

What does prompt (…) mean?

It means whatever you want it to mean! Have fun with it!

Other questions?

Send me an ask or a DM!

Plain text prompts in alphabetical order:

• Arguments Turned Love Confessions

• AU where nothing goes wrong

• Crossover

• Distortion / Static

• Early Mornings / Late Evenings

• Fake Dating AU

• Far Away / Together

• Farewells / New Beginnings

• Forehead Kisses / Scar Kisses

• Found Family

• FREE SPACE

• Getting Stuck on a World / No Way to RTC

• I Didn't Forget You

• I didn't know where else to go.

• Jealousy

• Magic

• Memories / Snapshot

• Mobsters / Crime AU

• My soul will find yours. (Jude Deveraux)

• Stars

• Summer Snow

• Sun (or Fire) & Moon / Red & Blue

• Tear Marks

• Was it worth it?

• You Have Changed

[marie-swriting]

Is Your Plan Working ? - Steve Harrington

Drabble Masterlist

Summary : Steve thinks he still can get a number from a random girl, you think he can't.

Warnings : sister!reader, reader is 14, set before season 3.

Word count : 706

French version on Tumblr

French version on Wattpad

Prompt : "Was I supposed to be impressed ?" 4th prompt from this list made by @exhuastedpigeon

“Hey dumbass !” You shout, making Steve turn around.

“What do you want, Y/N ?”

“You make me an ice cream ?”

“You literally insulted me at my workplace and you want me to give you an ice cream ?” He questions, outraged.

You roll your eyes before putting your innocent face on and stating with a small voice :  

“I apologise, my sweet brother. May I have an ice cream, please ?”

“Alright, I’m gonna do your ice cream, but only because I don’t wanna see your face anymore.” Steve gives up, annoyed.

“Love you, too.”

While Steve makes your order, you observe him, wanting to distract him. He started working at Scoops Ahoy three weeks ago so it’s still kind of hard for him. For you, it’s the perfect occasion to have free ice creams and mock your brother. Unfortunately, Steve does his work without a mistake today.

When he’s done, you take your cup and sit at a table near the counter. Steve rolls his eyes as he sees you’re still not leaving. You take your time to eat because you want to annoy him as much as you can. You’re taking another spoon of your ice cream with a fake-angelic expression on your face.

“Tell me Steve, is your plan working ? Did you get any numbers ?”

“Yes. Totally. Without a doubt.” He exclaims, trying to play it cool.

“Huh, technically, you got none.” Robin corrects him as she arrives at the counter.

“That’s false, I got one !”

“Yeah, zero and half. She didn’t give you the good one.”

When you hear this information, you can’t help but burst out laughing, imagining the scene in your head.

“I wish I could have seen that. I can’t believe after all these years being nicknamed ‘King Steve’, you’re struggling that much. I love it.” You state as you take another bite of your ice cream.

“It’s always nice to feel supported.” Steve says ironically. “But we’ll see who’s gonna be laughing in the end when I’ll have a girlfriend before the end of the holidays while you’ll still be hanging out with your little friends.”

“At least, they’re my age. Listen, we really like you Steve but you’re hurting our feelings when you hang with us.”

“Wait, the kids that come here almost everyday are your friends ?” Robin asks you and you nod. “I’m coming back in a sec.” She informs before getting a white board.

As you finish eating, you watch Robin taking a marker pen, drawing two categories where it’s written ‘YOU RULE’ and ‘YOU SUCK’. In that last one, she draws a stick before saying : 

“I feel like this column is gonna be full really soon.”

“Yeah, whatever. Keep mocking me, I’ll prove to you that my charms still work. I’m gonna do it right now, actually.” Steve affirms, showing you the new client. “Get ready to put a stick in that ‘YOU RULE’ column.” He says to Robin before smiling at the girl. “Welcome to Scoops Ahoy, can I offer you an ice cream ?”

“Hello, can I have lemon and strawberry, please.”

“Right away.”

Steve is fully focused on the making of the ice cream, making sure it’s done perfectly. Once he’s done, he gives the cup to the client. She’s about to pay when he stops her with a charming smile. 

“It’s free.”

“Really ?”

“Yes, my pleasure.”

“Thank you ! My boyfriend is gonna be happy.” She smiles while Steve’s face breaks down. “Have a nice day.”

You wait for the young woman to leave before laughing out loud with Robin. She holds her tummy before drawing another stick on the board. Steve tries to not let anything show, even though hurt can be seen in his eyes.

“Was I supposed to be impressed ?” You ask, calming your laugh. “Your face was beautiful, wish I could have taken a picture. Well, I’d like to keep mocking your lack of charm but I have to hang out with my friends.” You state before throwing your cup. “See you Robin.” You add before leaving and ignoring your brother. 

“You have to be home by six !” Steve orders you.

“If you get one number, maybe yes.”

“I love your sister.” Robin smiles, making Steve roll his eyes.

Drabble Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

[askcmdee]

Anon so this doesn't come from my main but it's nsfruitw- I LOVE YOUR BLOG CODING OMG??? THE WORKING BUTTONS AND MOVING WINDOWS ARE SO AWESOME???? I'm so excited for Dee's ask blog!!!

<OOC:>

Ahhhhhh!!! thank you!!! I had three different potential blogs.. but a lot of them didn't really met my wishes/criteria.

Which in case you're interested were:

Windows 98 look

Search bar

Visible tags

One Column

Separate Window for your Profile Info with a picture. (maybe separate icons or a lil menu for links)

No endless scrolling/seperate pages

I will put everything else under the cut since the post became quite long haha

This was one of the first themes I tried out (tbh I kinda jumped between all of them, trying stuff out)

I loveeee the start bar on this one, the icons and that it can be one or two columns. But it has no search bar and I didn't like that the profile section is super small, has no picture and couldn't be swapped to the left instead of the right side. I'm not confident enough in my html/css skills to competently yoink that start bar and transplant it into a different theme

Pros VS Cons: + animated start-bar (with accurate time in the corner) + one column (or two columns) + Windows 98 look + functional corner buttons + icons + custom background picture - no search bar - tiny info profile window, no picture (can't be moved to the left side) - endless scrolling - no visible tags

I prefer this theme for the most part over the previous one.. even if i loveee the functional startbar feature there! Its practically perfect. it can be one or two columns (i prefer one column blog layouts personally) You can add a lil picture in the profile section, its on the left side and you have a search bar!

I also looooveee that the post windows look extremely accurate and that the tags are always visible. (< another thing thats often kinda hidden in themes, so i tend to forget about it) Also the lil corner buttons can actually be used to like or reblog the post! what a highlight<3. my only issue was that i couldnt add a background picture.. and i kinda liked the idea of having separate icons for obvious links like I do now.

Pros VS Cons: + Windows 98 look + functional corner buttons + one column (or two columns + No endless scrolling (page by page) + Left side Info Window with picture and links + Visible tags

- no custom background picture

Another theme that I tried out is this one

They made the same theme I ended up using. It has a built in music player (that wont auto run!) a profile section + picture, customizable icons and background. But the biggest thing for me is that it doesn't have a search bar and I really need/want searchbars in my themes.

It's a really solid theme! It just fell a lil short for what I wanted to have

Pros VS Cons: + Windows 98 look + one column + No endless scrolling (page by page) + Left side Info Window with picture and links + Visible tags + music player (bonus) + custom icons and custom background picture + custom lil link window

- no searchbar (my biggest issue with a lot of themes haha)

Okay so last is the theme I ended up using which is this one:

It's very similar to the previous theme (Nostalgia 98) and was made by the same person. I edited the code a lil to have the tags be visible instead of needing to hover and to add another icon for links. It works but it’s also the only icon that isn’t draggable haha

Pros VS Cons: + Windows 98 look + one column + No endless scrolling (page by page) + Left side Info Window with picture and links + custom icons and custom background picture + custom icons for custom links

- no visible tags (I edited the code a lil so they're permanently visible)

[cozywithjoy]

Sneaking into School

Akihiko x FeMC

A/N: First time posting one of my fics to tumblr. I've usually posted on fanfiction.net (back when that was a thing) and more recently on AO3. Hope you enjoy! :)

Summary: This is what I wish had happened when SEES sneaks into school to find Fuuka. Any chance to show Akihiko as an awkward oblivious idiot.

(Also on AO3)

Word Count: 919

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

> In Gekkoukan High, classroom 2-F...

“First, we have to find the key to the gym.” Everyone nodded their heads in agreement, “We'll split up into two groups and meet in the main hallway on the first floor. Understood?”

“Which places are we checking out?”

“The Janitor's room and the Faculty office.”

“The Faculty office, huh?” Junpei begins to grin with eagerness. “Hey, maybe we'll find some test questions!”

Upon hearing his statement, a mischievous smirk starts forming on Mitsuru’s features. “Are you planning something unscrupulous under my supervision? If so, then expect to be severely punished...” Despite the smirk, there was something about the glint in Mitsuru’s eyes that made Kotone pause.

Kotone nervously glanced to Junpei, “I don't think she's kidding, Junpei-kun.”

The said boy's eyes got wide in fear, stammering as he thought of the consequences he could be facing, “It-it was a joke! I'd never do something like that!” He began to laugh nervously, but Student Council President did not appear reassured.

“...Perhaps I'd best take Iori with me to the janitor's room.” Mitsuru slowly turned to Kotone, the female leader that's been leading them thus far in Tartarus battle, “Shiomi, head to the faculty office. I'll leave it to you to choose who to take along with you.”

“I'll go with Shiomi.”

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

> In Gekkoukan High, main lobby...

Because of Yukari's fear of ghosts and being alone, it seemed reasonable to leave her with the larger group. Sanada Akihiko had much experience in battle before, so Mitsuru approved Akihiko's request to accompany the recent transfer student to the faculty office.

It's not that it bothered Kotone or anything. It simply surprised her that Akihiko suggested such a thing.

Mitsuru had left the decision up to her, but Akihiko seemed to almost jump at the opportunity. Kotone’s mind couldn’t stop the racing thought that maybe he had wanted to be alone with her. She had a strong urge to confirm his reasoning.

“Um... Akihiko-senpai?” The second-year called out, still following after the senior toward the opposite hallway they came from.

“What is it?” He responded curtly, still walking ahead.

“Why did you---”

“Sh!” Akihiko had suddenly stopped in mid-step, halting any sound from coming out of her mouth with a raised hand. “Do you hear that?”

Kotone listened: the sound of footsteps could be heard distinctly in the distance. The footsteps sounded as if they were coming closer to the pair.

“Who would be here at this time of night?” Akihiko asked quietly to himself, urgency evident on his face. “Hurry, behind the pillar!” The silver-haired senior grabbed Kotone by the arm, pulling her behind a pillar with him.

Kotone’s cheeks reddened ever so mildly. “Um... Senpai--”

“Sh!” Akihiko hushed, swiftly covering her mouth with his right hand and effectively cutting off any more words escaping past her lips.

Akihiko had shoved the poor girl against one of the pillars, her back against the frigid stone. He was leaning in close to her, attempting to fit their bodies within the width of the column. His hand remained over her lips as he stealthily observed the shadowy figure of a security guard coming closer to their pillar, a flashlight in hand. The security guard stopped a moment, flashed in arbitrary directions around the room before moving in the direction toward the opposite hallway, where the pair had come from previously.

Akihiko continued to have his fingerless gloved hand cover her mouth as he still heard the heavy footsteps of the security guard.

Kotone looked up to her senpai, hoping Akihiko couldn’t feel the warmth emanating from her embarrassed red cheeks. She practically begged in her mind for Akihiko not to look down and see how incredibly bright her cheeks were. She had never told him, but she admired him: his passion to get stronger to protect his loved ones, his passion to continue fighting and his determination that never seemed to fade. She couldn't deny the fact that she had developed a sort of school-girl crush, but she knew that he wouldn't give her the time for her... at least not yet. She wanted to prove herself worth of his affection.

But being in close proximity with him made her heart race.

She could smell his scent, faint as it was during this time: the smell of persimmons. Probably from his club activities, always training around the persimmon tree at the school.

She stayed as still as a rock until she couldn't hear any trace of sound from the hallway the security guard had just entered.

When the main lobby and the hallways became completely quiet once again, Akihiko let out a sigh of relief and looked down to his companion at the same time as she looked up at him again.

Their eyes locked, and Kotone swore she could hear a clock ticking in the distance with how long they had been staring at each other.

When Akihiko finally realized that he still had his hand clamped over her mouth and the proximity of him leaning over her, he hurriedly took a step back, swiftly followed by his hand that had been covering her mouth. Kotone could tell he was embarrassed as he averted his gaze from hers, “S-sorry about that. I didn't mean to be so pushy.”

“D-don't worry about it... Let's just go,” Kotone suggested, leading the way to the faculty office, leaving her question of the groups to herself for the time being.

Akihiko looked after her with mild surprise at her behavior, “...Right.”

[batboyblog]

LOUISVILLE — She wanted to hear Henry’s voice again. So she went to her son’s room on an overcast February day and started digging through the boxes he left behind, looking for something he’d written to give her guidance.

Henry Berg-Brousseau always knew what to say.

Eight years had passed since he’d told Kentucky lawmakers how it felt, at 16, to be the only transgender student at his high school. Eight weeks had passed since he’d killed himself, at 24, at his Northern Virginia apartment.

It was Henry who’d inspired his mother, Karen Berg, to run for Kentucky’s state Senate, helping her win a seat in an overwhelmingly Republican legislature now contemplating a pile of anti-trans bills.

All morning long, the doctor turned Democratic lawmaker had been pacing around her Louisville house, trying to figure out what she could say to stop them.

“Don’t shake. Don’t cry. Don’t let your voice waver,” Karen, 61, muttered to herself as she did the laundry. “Short and sweet is better.”

Henry, who’d worked as a press secretary for a major LGBTQ advocacy group, often reminded her to speak in sound bites, to repeat phrases so listeners could absorb the message.

But would the people with power in Frankfort pay attention?

It was an election year in Kentucky, and amid America’s widening cultural rifts, Republicans were pouncing on gender identity issues. Already, almost a dozen new anti-trans laws had been proposed in Kentucky: censoring books on gender, barring doctors from providing hormone therapy to trans teens, banning them from certain restrooms and locker rooms.

Five days earlier, a senator running for lieutenant governor had stood a few feet from Karen and introduced legislation to allow teachers to use students’ birth names and pronouns against their wishes. He was greeted with thunderous applause from colleagues.

Karen, one of just six Democrats in the Senate, couldn’t believe it.

Now she headed down to the basement and sat among the 30 boxes that had arrived from Henry’s apartment in Arlington.

“I keep searching for his smell, but I can’t find it,” she said, rooting through his old shirts.

She found herself returning to his childhood bedroom.

“God, I could use his advice right now,” she said quietly, as she leafed through his high school yearbooks.

It was in ninth grade — when Henry came out as transgender to his classmates — that the cruelty and isolation peaked. Parents Karen had known for more than a decade called to say they didn’t want Henry talking to their kids anymore. Bullies hacked his Tumblr blog and repeatedly sent him messages telling him to kill himself. The first of several suicide attempts followed soon after.

From one crate, she pulled a thick stack of binders from Henry’s time at George Washington University in D.C.

“These must’ve been from his classes when he came home during covid,” she said. As she flipped through them, the neatly penciled handwriting on one college-ruled page jumped out at her.

“Oh my God,” she whispered as she made out the first words on the page.

“What am I living for?” it read. “Why? What is keeping me?”

Underneath, her son had written out in tidy columns across two pages the apparent pros and cons of killing himself.

“I can’t,” Karen said, struggling to breathe. “I didn’t expect this. I’m not ready.”

She laid the pages down.

She thought about the hour-long drive to Frankfort the next morning and the eight-week legislative session still ahead. She thought about the fellow state senators she planned to plead with in private. And about the floor speech she was still composing to persuade them to back away from more anti-transgender laws — for her sake, for the sake of her son, for the sake of others like him.

“If they’re going to pass these bills,” she said, “I want them to see me and my dead child and know that they are killing other Henrys out there.”

Continue

every single line of this is heart breaking.

[oliviap]

Reflection

Overall this course as taught me a lot of skills in all three programs. Coming into this course we were asked to rank our skill level in each app. My original rankings were:

Illustrator: 7

Photoshop: 3

InDesign: 0

If I was asked to reevaluate my skills now I would say my Illustrator has changed from a 7 to a 9.5, Photoshop has changed from a 3 to a 6 and InDesign from a 0 to a 7.

Even at the start of this course, I was already very comfortable with Illustrator as it was the main program I used for design in high school. I was familiar with most of the tools we learnt so that learning was really just developing and mastering them. At the start of the course I bezier lines were frustrating and while I could draw reasonably well with them, I avoided it at all costs. I now really enjoy using the pen tool and bezier lines. I used it in so many of the tasks through out the course and I found every time I got faster and better. One thing I wish I knew in high school was the short cuts for the selection tool (v) and direction selection tool (A). This would have saved me so much time!

I knew very little on Photoshop when we started this course. I had done some drawing and image manipulation in digital technology at high school but that was the extent of my skill. Even now I don't feel I know a huge amount of what Photoshop offers but I'm very comfortable with what I learned in this course. I have used the adjustment tools were learnt outside of class numerous times as it was so simple to understand. I also found selecting and mask images was really fun and easy to pick up. I missed week 5 originally so I had to catch up later so I didn't have the chance to do it before week 6. It was explained to me in class and I found I grasped it pretty easily. I admittedly did forgot some of the stuff I learnt but I was able to refer back to tumblr and it was easy to remember after a quick recap.

Before this course, I had never heard of or used InDesign before. We used InDesign in our graphic design class as well while learning it so this made it way easier to learn as I was using it for around 9 hours a week in classes. I found that InDesign was really easy to use and especially helpful for text layout. The columns tool was really helpful in creating even, balanced layouts in my graphic design class. This also taught me a lot about general text, like a lot of the terminology (e.g. kerning, tracking, leading).

I think the program I found hardest to work with was Photoshop. While I enjoyed fixing the images, I've never had a very good eye for photography so it took me a while to be happy with my results. It was also frustrating how a lot of the commands didn't overlap with Illustrator. In Illustrator you hold down shift to restrict when resizing where as in Photoshop it morphs and manipulates it. This pissed me off quite a lot. But with time this became more natural and I just learnt it and did it without thinking.

If I didn't understand something in class I was able to go back and find the instructions on Moodle or Teams. This really helped me keep up to date and properly process what I was doing. I also used videos on Youtube to help me if I couldn't figure something out. Often they were on older versions of the programs but they were still mostly the same.

I think my favourite task was the two illustrations we had to make in Illustrator. For my first one I decided to make a bike. I used the pen tool as well as pathfinder to do this. Once I was done, I decided I wanted to add to it as I didn't really find it challenging. I decided to add two parrots to the bike because why not? To challenge myself, I didn't trace them from the reference I just tried my best to make the right shapes and then used the direct selection tool later to edit it after. I really loved my second illustration, I got quite carried away and just kept adding and adding to it. I decided to try recreate my original drawing as a challenge and I wanted to see what I could produce when using Illustrator.

Overall I was pleased with my final booklet project. To be honest I don't think it was the best display of my Illustrator and InDesign skills. I decided to procrastinate this booklet a lot as we had a lot of other projects due at the time. I started the booklet on Wednesday night which in reflection was stupid. I really should have chipped away at it over the days prior so I wouldn't have had to do so much work on Thursday night. But for the time period I did it in I'm pleased. I do like the actual book. I really enjoyed researching all about the different meanings behind common nursery rhymes. I decided to make my book a book for adults rather than children. I kept the cartoonish style of nursery rhyme books but added some much more disturbing imagery.

If I was to repeat this I would have liked to make some more vector images so showcase some more skills but I'm pretty happy. I definitely shouldn't have put it off. I really liked my drawing for 'Ring Around a Rosie'. I'll probably end up adding more detail to it once this course is finished.

[unhinged-nymph]

I haven’t made gifs in years but I’ve been wanting to get back into it in my free time. I tried to find what the dimensions are for tumblr image posts but I can’t find an updated one. Can you tell me what width you use to make your gifs? Big ones as well as smaller ones to fit into 2 columns? (Idk if my wording is making any sense I’m sorry!!) thank you!!

I wish I had a better answer for you but I literally don’t pay attention to it 😂 if I have two gifs I want next to each other Ill just make sure they’re the same dimensions but that’s it! Sorry I’m chaotic lmao

[ottomanladies]

Favorite consort of each sultan?

I gotta be honest, I don't have a favourite for each sultan, especially the early ones... that's really not my period at all. But I tried!!

Osman Gazi: ? I truly have no idea. Both Mal and Rabia Hatun are indifferent to me

Orhan Gazi: Theodora Kantakuzene

Murad I: ? I have no idea

Bayezid I: Maria Olivera Despina Hatun for sure

Çelebi Mehmed: no idea

Murad II: Mara Branković

Mehmed II: Çiçek Hatun and Sitti Mükrime Hatun

Bayezid II: I don't know

Selim I: well, Ayşe Hafsa of course LOL

Süleyman I: Hürrem (LOL)

Selim II: Nurbanu

Murad III: Safiye

Mehmed III: both Handan and Halime

Ahmed I: Kösem LOL

Mustafa I: had no consorts

Osman II: poor Meylişah Hatun, I feel so bad for her

Murad IV: ?? no idea

Ibrahim Han: Hümâ-Şâh Sultan and Hatice Muazzez Sultan

Mehmed IV: Emetullâh Rabî'a Gül-nûş Sultan and Afife Hatun/Kadın

Süleyman II: no idea

Ahmed II: Haseki Rabia Sultan

Mustafa II: Afife Kadın

Ahmed III: no idea tbh

Mahmud I: no idea

Osman III: no idea

Mustafa III: Mihr-i Şâh Sultan

Abdülhamid I: Hadîce Ruh-şâh Başkadınefendi

Selim III: Refet Kadın, only because she tried to prevent his assassination. It's something that wasn't expected of her so that kind of moved me

Mustafa IV: no idea

Mahmud II: Hacıye Pertev-Piyâle Nev-fidân Başkadınefendi and Bezmialem Sultan

Abdülmecid I: Servet-sezâ Başkadınefendi, Ayşe Ser-firâz Hanımefendi and Bezmiara Kadın

Abdülaziz Han: Gevheri Kadınefendi

Murad V: Meyl-i Servet Kadınefendi

Abdülhamid II: Nâzik-edâ Başkadınefendi, Bedr-i Felek Başkadınefendi

Mehmed V: Nâz-perver Kadınefendi

Mehmed VI: Emîne Nâzik-edâ Başkadınefendi and Inşirâh Hanımefendi

[yeongwonie]

STUPID CUPID! — 37

SYNOPSIS. alone on valentine’s day, you decide to sign up for the student council’s fundraiser: a matchmaking survey, hoping to at least get a few laughs out of the whole ordeal. little do you know, park sunghoon (your archenemy since junior high) has the same idea. but it’s fine! your student body president, kim sunoo, would never tamper with the matching system, right?

note. it’s finally here <///3 i hope u all enjoy (actually no i hope u Don't enjoy. i hope this chapter rips ur hearts out) nd that it lives up to your expectations!! after i dragged this out for so long LMFAO (also i’m sorry in adv) &huge thank u to sai @jungwonize 4 beta reading! ur the best :))

+ please rb if u want to!! it rlly helps w/tumblr’s algorithm :))

⤎ prev | 37 — what you wanted (written; 1.9k) | next ⤍

masterlist

YOU ALMOST WISH YOU’RE SURPRISED, seeing sunghoon leaning against one of the columns of your school’s back gate. instead, all you feel is a pang in your chest, like a lit match burning a hole through your lungs. 

he looks anxious, twisting the handles of a small, brown paper bag in his grasp and biting his lip. you know that he hasn’t seen you yet. 

when sunghoon finally does turn, he scans your various classmates scattered around the sidewalk, obviously searching for someone. you can pinpoint nearly the exact second he spots you from the way his almost hopeful expression drops. his lips part just the slightest, as though he wants to call out to you. his eyes remain locked onto yours intently.

and even though it’s been years since you’ve really known park sunghoon, you can tell the difference between surprise and dread.

“i saw your phone,” he says. your eyebrows draw closer together as you search his expression for some kind of answer to the thousands of questions swirling around your head. you feel dizzy, and a little exhausted. 

“i saw your phone,” he says. your eyebrows draw closer together as you search his expression for some kind of answer to the thousands of questions swirling around your head. you feel dizzy, and a little exhausted. 

“i saw your phone,” he says. your eyebrows draw closer together as you search his expression for some kind of answer to the thousands of questions swirling around your head. you feel dizzy, and a little exhausted. 

“what do you want me to do, sunghoon?” you ask, after a pause. “how am i supposed to react to this?”

sunghoon doesn’t respond; he doesn’t know how to. even you yourself can’t think of anything that he could say that would quiet the ringing in your ears.

all that you can think about is that, for the past few weeks, the person you’ve been excited to text every day, whose messages actually made you audibly giggle sometimes, and who you’d felt so close to in such a ridiculously short amount of time had been park sunghoon. 

“i think now would be a good time for you to tell me whatever it is you’ve been wanting to tell me,” you say, once the silence between the two of you grows unbearably uncomfortable. sunghoon sighs in acceptance, like he’s been waiting for this question for days. 

“okay,” he exhales. “okay.”

sunghoon finally breaks eye contact to look down at his feet. a hand raises to rub at his temples, and suddenly, he looks as nauseous as you feel. 

“god, this sounds so stupid, saying it now,” he says, almost laughing at the situation. “during our last year of junior high, i tore my acl.”

you nearly laugh too, because it’s really ridiculous. you don’t want to believe that all of the pain you’d felt had been because of a sports injury. of all the things you’d expected him to tell you, something like this had never crossed your mind, and yet it makes so much sense. sunghoon continues. 

“i had to quit skating for a year, and i was so scared that when i got back i wouldn’t be able to get back to the level i’d been at,” he says, then purses his lips shut. you don’t blink, searching his face for any more of an explanation. 

“why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, almost pleading him to give you something more. 

there’s another stretch of silence as sunghoon contemplates his next words. more students begin to arrive, filling the stagnant air with scattered conversations. when he speaks again, it’s so quiet that you almost have to strain to hear. 

“i didn’t want to let you down.”

you gape openly at him, unsure if you’d heard correctly. 

“let me down?” you repeat, incredulous. 

“you came to every single one of my performances, and you always told me you wanted to see me become a professional figure skater one day,” he continues. you feel tears pricking the backs of your eyes and a tight feeling forming in the back of your throat. “i was worried i couldn’t live up to that, and i was scared you’d be disappointed in me.”

“i didn’t just support you to see you go pro, you idiot.” you choke out, chuckling slightly in disbelief. “i would have supported you no matter what.”

sunghoon’s eyes widen, and you can nearly see the gears turning in his head. you almost hope he feels a bit stupid, to think that you would’ve cared about something so small as a sports injury, to the point where you would’ve let it ruin your friendship. 

“but you said you wanted me to pursue figure skating,” he says, just above a whisper. you smile sadly at him.

“i wanted you to be happy."

for the nth time, your conversation dwindles into a pause as the both of you process what’s being said. a short distance away, you can hear a few loud voices talking about their plans for valentine’s day. you can’t help but appreciate the irony, as the reminder of the special occasion is like another stab to the chest. you know sunghoon hears it too when he looks down at the bag in his hold, then runs a hand through his hair. 

“i remember,” he begins again. “while i was in the hospital, i kept picturing how you’d react. rehearsing how i would tell you over and over in my head. when i woke up from surgery, you were the first person i thought about.”

sunghoon stops to take a breath, then looks to gauge your reaction to what he’s telling you. when he sees your face, which you’re sure looks as though you’d just watched your childhood pet die, eyes glazed over with tears and lip nearly trembling, he looks up at the overcast sky. you can just barely see that his own eyes have a slight sheen to them as well. 

“i told myself that you’d be disappointed in me, so i just put off telling you. the more time that passed, the harder it got,” sunghoon tells you. “ it seemed easier to just avoid you in the halls than to have to see your face when i told you.”

for the millionth time this morning, you’re left completely speechless. 

“sunghoon, you were my best friend,” you finally say, and feel the tears finally begin to roll down your cheeks. seeing you cry, sunghoon looks pained, to say the least, and he presses his lips into a firm line. 

“you were mine, too.”

“so i just don’t understand why.” your sentence trails off until the two of you are, once more, wordlessly staring at each other. 

“i know.”

frustrated, you exhale sharply and wipe vigorously at the tears carving their path along the sides of your face. you tell yourself to be empathetic, to try to understand what sunghoon had been feeling going through such a career-killing injury alone. still, you can’t understand why he wouldn’t tell you, or how he’d been okay with letting such an important relationship just fade away. 

“I don’t know if i can see you right now,” you tell him, steeling your voice, though it nearly catches in your throat as you speak. the boy in front of you looks taken aback, but not surprised. “i think we should just get over this and forget about each other.”

“i thought things were getting better,” he replies, his statement sounding more like a question. your hands form into fists, and you feel your nails digging small, crescent shapes into your palms. 

“when we didn’t know who the other person was?” you retort, and sunghoon is effectively quieted once again. 

“what about friday?” sunghoon asks, and you remember what had happened in the courtyard, how you’d rested your head on his shoulder and actually felt comfortable, despite years of bickering and trying to push down the little prick of sadness that you felt every time you saw him. 

“you know, it was so easy to talk to you when you were this faceless person,” you change the subject, hands unclenching just the slightest. again, sunghoon looks hopeful, reminiscing on how nice it had been to text every night and feel that same childlike giddiness at your every conversation. you remember how you’d gone to him so often for advice, and how comforting it had been to talk to someone who seemed to understand everything you were feeling so naturally. “i didn’t realize it, but i started relying on you for everything again.”

“so keep relying on me,” he looks determined, posture straightening just the slightest. “i promise i’ll be there for you, this time.”

“but how can i believe that?” your voice breaks, and you do your best to keep yourself from crying any more. “two times now this has ended with us not even being able to talk to each other? how can i just keep trying, expecting a different ending?”

you bite your bottom lip between your teeth as sunghoon watches you, ashamed. he begins to speak, but you continue. 

“half of the time i was venting to you about you,” you seethe, referring to the conversations you’d had over the past three or so weeks. “do you understand how confused i am right now?”

“i’ll be better. i’ll—”

“don’t you see this isn’t working, sunghoon?”

a bell sounds loudly, echoing from inside the school and reaching the two of you even beyond the gate. suddenly, you register that the crowds of students surrounding you and sunghoon have dissipated, all of your classmates having entered their respective classrooms. then, you look at sunghoon again, and any concern you’d had about being tardy to your first period is replaced by sadness. 

“maybe we just don’t work together,” you finish.

your words hang in the air for a few moments, like the sword of damocles strung above sunghoon’s head, waiting to cut to the bone. you’re both crying, now, though you can’t bring yourself to offer him any words of consolation. 

and so, you slowly turn on your heel and begin walking to where sunoo’s waiting in the parking lot. you leave sunghoon behind you, still standing next to the gate and staring helplessly at your back as your figure grows smaller into the distance. when he thinks you’re out of earshot, he lets the sobs overtake his body as he sinks to the floor, shoulders shaking and face buried into his palms. 

it takes every bit of self control you have not to turn around. 

✮✮✮

taglist (OPEN). @linoragi @msxflower @wonzone @vantxx95 @c9tnoos @abdiitcryy @w3bqrl @acciomylove @laiverose @shawkneecaps @jjunis @niorawr @chiyuv @gyusteez @theskzvibe @yeppeudau @atsumuluvbot @renjunvrse @saucytaehyung @cocoabeen @nomniki @ashxxkook @angelicncity @fairybangtan @fadedluvv @haoreo @love-4-keum @solarswonderland @emoworu @revemixer @hrjchive @sushiriki @hseungi @enaus @maeumiluv @blu3ming-hoon @soobin-chois @ifwtyun @sweetjaemss @luviehyck @angelbaby-rose @beomsun @tobiosbbyghorl @junqwonni @jungwonnieee @carayat @iovnyu @cyuuupid @dekusgirl @hobistigma

[everysongineverykey]

Hello you-can-always-come-home,

For the past day or so you have been making your followers cringe with a hypothetical Deltarune MCU adaptation. In front of you is a computer currently displaying your tumblr account. You have 24 hours to write a cringeworthy mcu fandom-esc selfship fanfic with Berdly. Should you fail, your followers will instead fill this fandom ship niche with their own fanfic, almost certainly resulting in something far worse than whatever you could come up with. Will you succumb to the awful awful idea that you have unleashed, or will you finally get a taste of your own medicine? Live or die, the choice is yours.

christ alive. it's done. i really tried to write from the voice of a 13 year old mcu fan back in like 2014 and i really hope it doesn't come off as mocking anyone in particular. anyone who reads this i Promise you this writing style is put on and that i am a better writer than this actually

After the roaring knight turned out to be a personification of the fun gang's insecurities and was defeated by the power of friendship and also Triple Spamvil Neo 5000, the almighty fusion between Spamton and Jevil that had two laser cannon arms instead of one and flossed a lot, the heroes and all their friends decided to live together in Ralsei's castle in Castle town 2.0, a haven for all darkners and Lightners where everyone could live together and be happy since it was made of a different kind of darkness then all the others. Susie and Ralsei were now King and queen (Author's note: can be romantic or platonic depending on what you like best but all im gonna say is i LOVED the scene where he saved her from falling off a cliff and then said "I think you just fell for me" >_<) and Kris was Crown Prince(ss) (Author's note: haven't decided on a gender for Kris yet LOL). They were all roommates and everyone was happy.

Well, except for one person. Berdly, even though he was the reason the gang got out with their lives when he said "It's spammin' time" to summon Triple Spamvil 5000 (a.n: who else LOVED that morbius reference🤣), was still alone, his room in the castle was just a broom closet under the stairs and all he was ever fed was bread crumbs twice a day. Both Susie and Noelle had rejected him even though he was such a nice guy because they said he wasn't their type. Berdly's life in Castle Town 2.0 was TERRIBLE and he wished he had never helped them out at all.

Then one day he met someone who changed his life forever. She was half Darkner, half Lightner due to being born from one of the last Dark fountains to be sealed and her name was (Y/N). She first met Berdly when she was seeing King Ralsei and Queen Susie in the throne room to discuss her new job, the Lightner-Darkner ambassador.

Susie, Ralsei and (Y/N) were walking through the castle halls. "Well (Y/N)" said Ralsei, "I am very glad we got to meet you. It seems like you will be a perfect fit for the job of ambassador."

(Y/N) beamed. "Thank you your majesty. I will do my duty with pride. Being the only Lightner-Darkner hybrid in the world isn't easy, but I know it'll give me a special insight for this job."

Susie yawned loudly. "UGH," she complained, "Ralsei, didja HAVE to drag me along with you to talk to this priss? You know I hate di- di- diplodicus."

"Y-You mean diplomacy." Said Ralsei.

"Ugh, what-EVER," Susie groaned. "If I don't get to break something right now Im gonna explode" She turned suddenly and smashed an expensive vase sitting on a column. (Y/N) and Ralsei jumped back, (Y/N)'s kalidoscope orbs shining with fear.

"S-Susie!" sputtered Ralsei, terrified. "Y-You have to stop breaking vases! They're expensive!"

Susie roared with laughter. "Whatever toothpaste boy. Hey!" She looked around, snapping her fingers. "Where's Nerdly? He'll clean it up for me. Nerdy!"

Berdly came skittering quickly over from around the corner. "Y-Yes your ma-"

He stopped in his tracks, eyes landing on (Y/N). She was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. Her striped whitr-and-black hair humg around her shining skin like a halo, and she wore a gorgeous floor-length gown that glittered with every color of the rainbow.

Forget Noelle, this was the first real angel Berdly had ever seen. He suddenly realized hed been staring too long and cleared his throat blushing

"Uh... yes, your majesty?"

Susie motioned to the mess on the floor. "Clean that up. And don't take so long this time, I don't wanna see your ugly face stilll here in half an hour again."

Berdly looked miserably at the broken mess om the floor. "B-But your majesty, you said I could have a day off today-"

"Berdly" Ralsei said sternly. "Listen to your queen."

Berdly sighed sadly and dropped to the floor, and (Y/N) suddenly felt terrible for this boy who seemed like he just wanted to live a nice life in Castle Town.

"Excuse me," she touched his wing and he froze, blushing, "Don't worry about that. I'll clean it up."

She snapped her delicate fingers and in a second, the shards had disappeared. Leaving the floor clean again.

Berdly blinked in surprise. Susie's eyes narrowed. "Aw, c'mon, wheres the fun in that?! He always does the cleaning here! It's fun to watch him suffer!"

Ralsei tried to intervene, "Susie, please-"

"I don't care if you don't like him," (Y/N) challenged the dragon, stepping closer adversarially. "It's wrong to treat anyone this way. He obviously only wants to be friends with you and you're being very unfair."

Susie, not used to being told she's wrong, glared at (Y/N), smoke flowing out of her nostrils. "I'm Queen here!" she yelled. "I should be able to do what I want! Ugh, i'm gonna need some chalk for this" She stormed off, stomping down the hall. Good riddance, (Y/N) thought, though she was too polite to say it out loud.

Ralsei hurried after Susie meekly. "S-Susie, calm down-" Leaving (Y/N) and Berdly alone in the hall.

Berdly couldn't believe what had just happened. Someone had stood up for him! Someone cares how he feels! No one not even Noelle had ever tried to challenge the way he was treated ever since he moved to Castle Town 2.0 and now this gorgeous girl was leaning down and smiling at him.

"Are you alright?" She asked kindly, holding out her hand for him to take. "I'm sorry that happened. What's your name?"

"B-Berdly," he stammered taking her hand and quickly getting to his feet. "W-Who are you? I've never seen anyone like you before."

She blushed at that, and Berdly's heart skipped a beat. Her orbs turned bright pink, the color of happiness... and love?

"(Y/N)," she said quickly. "I'm the new darkner Lightner ambassador. Please to meet you Berdly!" Her face turned sad all of a sudden. "Do they... all treat you like that?"

Berdly's blue orbs turned dark with sadness as he looked down, muttering "Ever since I moved here. I helped them defeat the Roaring Knight too. And yet even my old friends seem to hate me now..."

"That's so sad!" (Y/N)'s eyes turned a deep blue to show her sorrow. "I'm sorry Berdly. You don't deserve this."

Berdly blushed again, shrugging. "Not much i can do"

Suddenly, (Y/N) reached out and took his hand, something that no one had done in a long time "Well I'm going to do something about it. Mark my words Berdly, no one'll treat you like a slave again as long as I'm here. Now, tell me about yourself."

She took his wing and they set off down the hall, walking and talking and laughing and Berdly could feel that this girl was going to change his life.

fucking. there. chapter one of The Reason I Should Not Have Internet. chapter 2 coming never because i've done enough

[allthingslinguistic]

9 years of All Things Linguistic

This blog has been around for almost a decade now! This year, despite the global pandemic, it feels like a major theme was collaborating and working with people. Let’s celebrate by looking back at some of my favourite posts and other linguistics things I worked on this past year. 

Because Internet

Because Internet, my book about internet language, came out in paperback!

Here are some photos of the new paperback edition, same bright yellow cover, now with 10x more nice quotes from people, which was featured in the New York Times Paperback Row. I also wrote an old-school reflexive blog post about what it's like to hit the final milestone in a book journey that began in 2014.

If you're a Lingthusiasm fan, and you're considering reading the Because Internet audiobook but you wish Lauren was there too, not just my voice all by itself, we now have a solution to that problem! That's right, we've made a clip of Lauren-backchannelling audio that you can now play on loop in the other ear while you listen to the Because Internet audiobook.

Wired Resident Linguist column

Covid-19 Is History’s Biggest Translation Challenge 

A Mission to Make Virtual Parties *Actually* Fun 

My Wired article about preliterate children texting in emoji from a while back was translated for Wired Japan. Here it is in Japanese and here it is in English again.

Crash Course Linguistics 

I worked with a large team of excellent people, including linguists Lauren Gawne and Jessi Grieser, host Taylor Behnke, and the teams at Complexly and Thought Cafe on a series of 16 short intro videos for Crash Course Linguistics. We’re very proud of how they turned out and we’ve already been hearing from people who’ve used them in their intro linguistics classes and even discovered that linguistics existed because of them. 

Introduction

Morphology

Morphosyntax

Syntax

Semantics

Pragmatics

Sociolinguistics

Phonetics, Consonants

Phonetics, Vowels

Phonology

Psycholinguistics

Language acquisition

Historical linguistics and language change

Languages around the world

Computational linguistics

Writing systems

We also made supplementary posts with further resources and exercises to go with the Crash Course Linguistics videos through Mutual Intelligibility with Liz McCullough. Here’s a directory of all Mutual Intelligibility posts. 

Assorted interesting crossovers 

I was this year’s recipient of the Linguistics, Language, and the Public Award from the Linguistic Society of America. (My acceptance speech as a blog post.)

The latest set of draft emoji from Unicode include three emoji that I co-wrote the proposals for, along with Lauren Gawne and Jennifer Daniel. 

I made a cameo in an xkcd comic about Proto-Indo-European and also may or may not have been in a xkcd comic about the Tower of Babel. (I am choosing to consider it representation of curly-haired linguists everywhere.)

I late-night-wrote a parody version of "Jolene" but about vaccines ("Vaccine, Vaccine, Vaccine, Vaciiiiine / I'm begging you please go in my arm") which someone made an excellent video recording of and then it got picked up by quite a lot of media outlets.

Someone made a musical tiktok video asking why adults over 40 use ellipsis so much, a lot of people tagged me in it so I tweeted about it, and then A Capella Science made an extremely catchy response video, also in music, featuring a cameo from Because Internet. 

Lingthusiasm was featured on the Patreon’s official accounts as part of #MadeWithPatrons, and Because Internet was featured on the official tumblr books blog. 

LingComm

After experimenting with lots of different styles of virtual events in the preceding months, I co-organized two lingcomm-related events in parallel weeks: 

#LingComm21

The first International Conference on Linguistics Communication, for practitioners of linguistics communication to meet and learn from each other, was organized by me, Lauren Gawne, Jessi Grieser, Laura Bailey, and Liz McCullough (different spelling, no relation!). 

We designed the schedule and the virtual conference space in Gather to facilitate social interaction between conference attendees, not just one-way attendance, and were delighted both that so many people were interested in the topic (200 registrants!) and to hear from attendees that we seem to have succeeded at the social side. Meta posts about how we planned it with tips for other virtual events are in progress.  

LingFest 

LingFest was a fringe-festival-style series of independently organized online events for linguistics fans, which featured 12 events that were attended by over 700 people in total, including a Lingthusiasm liveshow about backchannelling   from me and Lauren Gawne. 

Grants

We also announced the winners of the 2020 LingComm Grants, a project that began last year, and later made a post with the completed 2020 LingComm Grantee projects for you to check out! 

Other virtual places I talked with interesting people 

Talks

A chat at Planet Word, the new language museum in Washington DC, about internet language

Two panels for Predictive Text, a series with Slate’s Future Tense: about translation and the juxtaposition of historical texts with modern language  with Maria Dahvana Headley (translator of the new "bro" Beowulf edition) and Alena Smith (creator of the show Dickinson) and about the meaning of emoji with Jennifer Daniel from the Unicode Emoji Subcommittee

Lauren Gawne and I gave a talk for Abralin, the Brazilian Linguistics Association, about emoji and gesture

A Linguistics in the Pub panel about linguistics podcasting 

The Cheese Plate Is A Technology - Interview with the Smart Bitches, Trashy Books podcast

Conferences

Australian Educational Podcasting Conference: From mythbusting to metaphors - Learning from cross-disciplinary research to communicate complex topics better. 

Online National Association of Science Writers (NASW) conference

Virtual Word of the Year at the American Dialect Society annual meeting

Annual meetings of the Linguistic Society of American and the American Association for the Advancement of Science

An impromptu panel about linguistics in science fiction/fantasy at the online version of WisCon (#WisConline) with a fun group of linguists

Lingthusiasm episodes

We reached our 100th episode of Lingthusiasm, a podcast that’s enthusiastic about linguistics which I make with Lauren Gawne! Here are the main episodes that came out this year: 

Tracing languages back before recorded history

Hey, no problem, bye! The social dance of phatics

The happy fun big adjective episode

Who you are in high school, linguistically speaking - Interview with Shivonne Gates

How translators approach a text

Climbing the sonority mountain from A to P

Small talk, big deal

Writing is a technology

Listen to the imperatives episode!

How linguists figure out the grammar of a language

R and R-like sounds - Rhoticity

Not NOT a negation episode

And the twelve monthly bonus episodes: 

Doing linguistics with kids

Tones, drums, and whistles - linguistics and music

LingComm on a budget (plus the Lingthusiasm origin story)

The quick brown pangram jumps over the lazy dog

The most esteemed honorifics episode

Crash Course Linguistics behind the scenes with Jessi Grieser

Q&A with lexicographer Emily Brewster of Merriam-Webster

Deleted scenes - outtakes from Lingthusiasm interviews

100th episode Q&A about naming dogs, modifying English, linguistics research, and more

The episode-episode (reduplication)

Talking to babies and small children

Lingthusiasm liveshow: the listener talks back (on backchannelling)

Language Files videos

More videos from my ongoing collaboration with Tom Scott and Molly Ruhl:

schwa

the Bouba/Kiki experiment

Corpus statistics behind the pronunciation of "gif" 

The complicated question of how many languages there are

Why Shakespeare Could Never Have Been French 

Other blog posts

Linguistically relevant books I liked this year

The Language Lover's Puzzle Book by Alex Bellos

Highly Irregular by Arika Okrent

A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine 

68:Hazard:Cold, a short story by Janelle Shane which does interesting things with language

Linguist humour

Scuba, an exotic English word meaning "to keep breathing even though the water rises all around you"

The language after "Modern" English: English_final_FINAL?

English's avoidance register in front of certain animals: W-A-L-K

xkcd does dialect quizzes (a parody)

Ancient Sumerian meme dogs

General linguistics 

An interactive visual database for American Sign Language

The linguistics of hyperlinks

Names in fantasy maps

New kanji for social distancing

Towards a new language of the global language crisis

Gestural theories about the origin of language

Indigenous activists are reimagining language preservation under quarantine

What is a heritage language? Infographic

The Scots Wikipedia saga

"Language features are not neutral in the way that the calculator feature is neutral."

A video singing the names of the Indigenous languages of Australia

Writing in ways that communicate our tone of voice

The poetic process powering real-time language translation in Namibia

How do you sign "Black Lives Matter" in ASL?

A linguistic perspective: The harmful effects of responding 'All lives matter' to 'Black lives matter'

Linguistics jobs (mostly from Lauren Gawne)

legislative drafter

speech pathologist

freelance writer (and creator of Dinosaur Comics)

dance instructor and stay-at-home mom

at the American Anthropological Association

law student

developer advocate

metadata specialist and genealogist

ESL teacher

Full list of 60+ linguistics jobs interviews from Superlinguo to date

Practical advice for if you want to start a podcast

Haven’t been with me this whole time? You can see my favourite posts of year one, year two, year three, year four, year five, year six, year seven, and year eight. 

For shorter updates, follow me as a person on twitter or instagram, follow lingthusiasm on twitter or instagram, or for a monthly newsletter with highlights, subscribe on substack.

[starsinmylatte]

Nightcall

Pairing: Thrawn x afab reader

Rating: Explicit (Very 18+)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: established relationship, edging, praise k!nk, very slight dom/sub undertones, interspecies relationship

Summary: Reader has had a VERY long day, and Thrawn is away from the Chimaera. Or is he?

Author's note: Hi! I'm finally starting to post fics to Tumblr again. I've been away for a bit, but I am very excited to write more. All my stuff is also on AO3 here! Any comments or reblogs are always greatly appreciated (seriously y'all leave the sweetest comments and it makes my day). Have fun reading my first ever attempt at smut and lmk if you'd like to be added to my tags <3

Today had been hell.

Thrawn had departed the Chimaera days ago to handle some business on Coruscant, and, as usual, Konstantine was using his absence as an excuse to be a massive pain in the ass. The Grand Admiral relied on you to help keep order just as much as he relied on Eli Vanto, but he was currently as busy as you were. So, the ever-glamorous job of making sure the Seventh Fleet remained in orbit mainly fell to you.

It was the fifth day Thrawn had been gone, and you were already fantasizing about throwing Konstantine out of the airlock. It would undoubtedly save the remnants of your sanity. He usually wasn’t blatantly insubordinate, but today he seemed to make an exception.

“I simply don’t understand why the Grand Admiral is insisting on holding this formation,” he exclaimed. “We should be chasing the rebels back to their base by now!”

Another headache was definitely coming on. I swear on every star in this kriffing galaxy…..

Your reply was icy and tinged with frustration, “Konstantine, if you wish to question the Grand Admiral’s tactics, you are more than welcome to discuss it with him when he comes back. Until then, we will be following the orders he left us with.”

He momentarily met your piercing stare before realizing any further arguments would be futile.

“Fine. I do believe I’m needed elsewhere,” Konstantine huffed as he departed the bridge.

For the first time in hours, the bridge was blessedly silent. You sank into a chair, rubbing your temples. Kriff, I definitely feel that headache now….

A sudden hand on your shoulder made you jump. You were so distracted that Eli might as well have materialized out of thin air.

“Hard day?” The corners of his mouth twitched as he attempted to stifle his amusement. “I heard you gave Konstantine a well-deserved earful.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Next time, it’s your turn. This is my fourth headache in the past five days.”

“Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off? You’ve been working harder than anyone else on the Chimaera for days.” He lowered his voice before adding, “He should be back soon.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the news. You and Thrawn had gone to great lengths to keep your relationship secret from the crew, but Eli was too good of a friend to be kept in the dark. Besides, he would’ve noticed eventually that his two best friends were slightly more than friends.

Eli must’ve noticed the change in your expression, “Oh, you definitely need a break.”

He shoved a datapad in your hands and started pulling you to your feet, ignoring the numerous protests you gave him. “Here, take this to Thrawn’s office, leave it on his desk, and then you’re taking the rest of the day off. No arguments.”

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

Thrawn’s office was its usual freezing temperature. Even though your uniform had layers of thick material, the chill was easily seeping through them. Shivering, you placed the datapad on the large desk in the back of the room.

You turned to leave, but a pang shot through your heart as you looked around the empty room. It was normal for you to barely see Thrawn on the days he was especially busy, but it was always different when you knew he wasn’t on the Chimaera at all. Stars, you missed him when he was gone. Just knowing he was nearby on days you couldn’t see him was so comforting. “Soon” wasn’t a good enough time frame for when he’d return.

A sudden thought crossed your mind; nothing was stopping you from spending the night in Thrawn’s quarters. It wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence for you to sleep here, and it would be comforting. Besides, with your headache, you didn’t exactly feel like walking all the way back across the ship to your room, and his private quarters were conveniently connected to his office.

You began stripping off your uniform as you walked into the room and made your way over to the bed. It was still freezing, but every layer you removed took the worries of the day with it. Soon, everything except your bra and panties sat neatly folded on the bedside table. In this moment, you weren’t an Imperial officer; you were a woman climbing into her lover’s bed for comfort after a long day.

As soon as you slid between the soft, black sheets, you instantly received the comfort you were craving. They smelled exactly like Thrawn, crisp and clean, but with a unique depth cut by the citrusy scent of his favorite tea. You could almost imagine that he was actually there beside you. A contented smile crossed your lips as you drifted off to sleep.

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

You suddenly woke to a light caress on your cheek. In your groggy state, you didn’t fully realize what that touch meant until you leaned into it. You would have probably fallen back asleep were it not for the low, pleased murmur that followed your actions.

“Apologies, ch’eo bat in’a, I did not mean to wake you, but I was not expecting to find you here.”

Your eyes flew open in shock as you sat up and gasped, “Thrawn!”

The low light in the room illuminated the regal form sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. Thrawn’s usually unreadable expression was one of slight amusement mixed with another, softer expression. You couldn’t help but notice his beautiful azure-hued skin and luminous ruby eyes were only complemented by the dimmed light; you couldn’t help but think he was meant to be seen like this. He must’ve been tired from the constant travel, but nothing in his posture or expression gave it away.

You didn’t wait for him to speak again before reaching over to embrace him. Thrawn immediately wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you in tightly. Pressing your face into his chest, you quietly murmured, “I missed you.”

He said nothing, so you assumed he didn’t hear. You both sat contentedly for a few minutes and savored the intimacy before he moved one hand to stroke lazily down your back and the other to run through your hair. As you leaned further into his touch, he grabbed your chin and turned your head so he could press his lips to your ear.

“You are quite endearing when you’re half-asleep. It’s beautiful,” he whispered.

The praise combined with the sensation of his warm breath in your ear finally did you in; a flame began to spark to life in your core. You had missed him, and every single part of you was screaming for you to let him know just how much.

Before you could even move, Thrawn trailed his lips down to kiss your neck, and the flame in your core blossomed. You let out a quiet, breathy moan, and he immediately stopped.

Bringing his lips back to trace the shell of your ear, he rasped, “Oh? It seems you did miss me. How fortunate that I was able to return to you already in my bed.” He paused to lightly trace the outline of your bra before continuing. “And in something so pretty too. A shame that it will soon be discarded.”

You whimpered at his words as his lips renewed their brutal assault on your neck and upper chest. For what seemed like an eternity, Thrawn was content to lavish affection on the spots that provoked the greatest responses from you as his hands held you in place.

“Thrawn, please…. Touch me….” you begged, hoping desperately for him to comply.

He merely let out a dark chuckle as he chided, “Patience, ch’eo ch’itiseb, for every protest that leaves your pretty mouth, I will be sure to make you wait even longer.”

You bit back a moan at his sinful words; his eyes seemed to glow even brighter, and his smile turned feral. The look he gave you in return was simply predatory.

He continued to suck hickies into the sensitive skin at the base of your neck and around your collarbones. His tongue licked a long, torturous line up the column of your neck to kiss the area under your jaw. With every kiss, caress, and touch, the flame in your core spread throughout your entire body. He bit down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and you melted even further into his arms.

“It seems you were able to learn an adequate lesson in patience, so now we may continue. Turn around for me,” he ordered.

You turned to face the wall as he returned to his previous position at the edge of the bed. He trailed his hands up your waist and around to cup your breasts. Thrawn may have decided that you could have more of his touch, but he still refused to dip his hand under the lacy fabric of your bra. Instead, he teasingly rubbed over the material to brush against your nipples. Your head fell back to rest on his shoulder as you pushed your chest out into his hands, still desperate for more.

“How very, very eager for my touch….” His tone was still infuriatingly collected for how quickly he’d reduced you into a moaning mess, but a slight accent began to mar his words. “Ch’itses’o euhn ei.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Thrawn unfastened and discarded your bra. Finally, he wrapped his hands entirely around your breasts. The sharp contrast between the warmth of his body and the room’s icy air only intensified the pleasure as he began to roll your nipples between his fingers.

You couldn’t help but moan his name again, loudly. Thrawn’s breath hitched before he let out a low, breathy moan, “Bun vn’inen’i. Let me hear you.”

His voice had always been profoundly attractive, but hearing him murmur filthy sentiments into your ear in his native tongue made you absolutely melt. You let out another gasp and rubbed your thighs together, seeking any friction you could find, keenly aware of the desire beginning to pool between them. In your desperate search for friction, you accidentally rubbed your ass back against him and felt his growing erection.

The contact made Thrawn hiss. In one fluid motion, he flipped you around, pushed your back flat against the mattress, and leaned over you.

It was moments like this when you remembered you were in the bed of one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. Thrawn’s ruby eyes glowed with lust as he gazed down at you. His feral smile returned as he studied his prize. “Allow me to show you just how much I missed you.”

He trailed kisses from your breasts down to your inner thighs, nipping at them slightly, then stopping to look up at you as he reached your panties. “These must go,” he murmured against your thigh. Thrawn took the band in his teeth and began to tug the panties off, using his hands to remove them fully.

Finally, you laid before him completely bare, and once again, he paused to appreciate your body. “Simply beautiful,” he cooed.

Thrawn returned to kiss your inner thighs before he spread your legs further. He moved to kneel on the floor at the side of the bed and pulled your hips to the edge. You knew exactly what was coming next. “Oh….”

You barely had time to moan before he swiped an experimental finger through your core. Under any other circumstances, you’d be embarrassed that you were already so wet, but Thrawn lit a fire in you that no one else could. Now it was his turn to let out a low groan at his discovery.

He didn’t waste any more time before moving one of his long fingers to lightly trace around your entrance. The torment of his delicate touch made you rock your hips upwards, desperately begging for more contact. Without warning, he pushed two fingers deep inside you, making your walls clench hard around them. You moaned and begged for more as he began to pump them in and out of your drenched core, causing your legs to shudder in pleasure.

“Look at you, I’ve only just started using my fingers, and you’re already shaking,” Thrawn groaned.

He brought you right up to the peak of pleasure before suddenly withdrawing. You sobbed in protest as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. “Clean them off,” he commanded. Hoping that he’d finish you off if you complied, you obediently took his fingers into your mouth and sucked all your juices off of them.

Thrawn was very pleased. He moved back down between your thighs and sucked another hickey on the delicate skin before returning his attention to your core. He slowly circled your sensitive clit with a finger before licking his way up to suck on it. Once again, he continued his attention until you were at the very edge before withdrawing. Being edged once was hard, but the second time left you an absolute mess.

When Thrawn looked down on you, covered in his marks, eyes glazed over in lust and absolutely begging for completion, he lost the remnants of his control. He leaned back up to murmur, “Ch’eo ch’itiseb, how would you like me?”

“Stars, Thrawn, I don’t care. I just want you inside me now,” you moaned back at him as you reached up to help tug off his remaining clothing. After a few moments, he was also completely bare and leaning over you on the bed again.

With how desperate you felt, any time at all was too long, but your pleas and cries finally turned into more gasps and moans of pleasure as he finally lined his thick cock up with your entrance. The feeling of being so gloriously stretched and filled as he pushed in made your walls clench around him. Thrawn moaned at the sensation and began fucking you at a leisurely pace.

He leaned in to capture your lips in a burning, passionate kiss as his thrusts grew faster and your hips rose to meet them. His hands roamed your body, finding their way to pinch and tug at your nipples. You moaned into his mouth as you grew closer and closer to the high you’d been chasing all night.

Pausing between kisses, Thrawn suddenly grabbed your chin and stared into your eyes with his burning red ones before returning to kiss you hungrily. The unspoken message was clear: you were his. This new intensity, combined with his thrusts that came faster and faster, finally sent you over the edge into a shattering climax. Thrawn’s thrusts grew more and more erratic until he finished soon after you, coating your walls with his seed as he came.

As you both lay there in the afterglow, Thrawn mused, “I may have to find an excuse to be gone more often.”

Tags: @pretty-with-andorian-shingles @mittheresabosen @handbaskethell

[donutloverxo]

Pinky promise

*gif by @marvelheroes*

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - Tis part of my donut series which is linked in masterlist. You can just read it for the smut tho, smut usually doesn’t have anything to do with plot🥴🥴

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Steve yells at you but promises not do it again. But then he had to teach you a lesson too...

Warnings - 18+ONLY, smut(m/f), some assplay, spanking, daddy kink, brat tamer Steve, angst, references to stalking, more to come in future chapters.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 4.8k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

He traced the bridge of your nose with his finger, ever so lightly, his touch barely there so as not to wake you from your peaceful slumber. He smiled at the way you cutely scrunched up your nose when he withdrew his finger.

With your hand across his chest, both your legs over his thighs - you were pretty much sleeping on top of him - clinging to him like a koala. Not that he’d complain. He couldn’t be happier.

Most nights he can barely sleep for two hours, if that wasn’t interrupted by his consistent nightmares - but with you everything felt so serene. He hoped to make you feel the same way.

“No more kale,” you murmured in your sleep.

He frowned, what the hell were you dreaming about?

After your first time together he had given you a nice bath, washed your hair. His bathtub was too small to fit both of you so he simply helped wash you up and then help you into his t-shirt. He never knew he would find his clothes so sexy on you. He wondered how big the baths in the tower’s apartments were. Surely they could fit the both of you. Maybe then he could bathe with you and more...

That was maybe the only flaw you had. How insatiable you manage to make him without even trying. Lathering up your soft skin had done a number on him, especially when his hand drifted between your legs, cleaning you up thoroughly. You were pretty out of it to know what was going on.

Even now, he had woken up with an achingly hard erection. What with snuggling your plump ass that was persistent on grinding against his crotch, for some reason. He decided to ignore it - maybe take care of it later in the shower.

He needed to make you some breakfast first and get you replenished and strong. Then if you’re up for it, maybe he can have his fun.

After struggling to get out of your snuggly trap without waking you he made his way over to the kitchen. Beating up the batter for waffles, some fresh fruit, juice and a PB and J. He put all of it on a tray, wishing he had a rose or two to make it easy on the eyes, he made his way over to you.

Caressing your face, placing a few loud kisses on your cheek as you whined, “Wake up, darling,” he whispered against your skin.

“It’s Saturday,” you pushed him away, turning on your side and away from him.

“I know but I have to go to work. I’d like to spend some time with you, wouldn’t you? It’s your first time sleeping over I want us to have breakfast together,” he nuzzled the crook of your neck.

You kicked your blanket away, squinting your eyes to adjust to the bright light, “Okay,” you slurred, “but you should know I’m not a morning person.”

“Noted,” he smiled, hugging your back closer to him.

Your eyes snapped open when you felt it against your butt cheeks. There was no mistaking it, “Steve, are you... hard?” you asked in a low voice. You wiggled your butt so you could be sure - yup, that’s his monster cock awake again, alright.

He hummed, “It’s just what you do to me, princess.” He snaked a hand up, fondling your soft flesh of your breast with it. Squeezing your hard bud through his t-shirt.

“Does... it hurt? I know it’s a weird question but I’m just curious...” you trailed off.

“Sometimes it’s just annoying and sometimes it’s painful. Like right now,” he husked in your ear, holding onto your hip and rutting up in your ass. His palm making it’s way between your legs, tracing patterns on your inner thigh.

“Oh. Then maybe you should do something about it. I don’t want you be in pain,” you squirmed in his hold. You could still feel the ache of last night’s activities in your core but the idea of going at it again was just as appealing to you.

“Yeah? You want it?” he let his fingers dip in your folds, “You’re fucking drenched, princess,” he groaned.

You gasped. It’s not everyday you hear Captain America spouting such profanities.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to do a thing,” he promised, pushing you on your stomach he took his shirt off of you. Shoving a pillow under your hips to give him access and let you relax at the same time. “You were so good last night, doll. Can you be good now? For me?”

You nodded your head, your cheek pressed to the soft pillow. You didn’t really know what ‘being good' entailed. You did know that if he wanted to slap you and have you thank him for it, you’d probably do it. Really you would do anything to please him.

You jerked as you felt the tip of his tongue nudge at your entrance. Dipping inside your heat - so warm and velvety - and then pulling out to lick a stripe up your slit.

“You’ve got a nice ass, sweetheart, fits in my hand perfectly,” he praised, squeezing your ass and then kneeling behind you.

He touched the column of your spin, pressing on the middle of your back to arch you up to him, your wide hips and butt presented so perfectly to him. It was like a dream come true. There was no way he could resist.

Pulling your cheeks apart, he admired your holes, before prodding at your second hole and tracing it with his tongue.

You squealed at that. “St - Steve, what are you doing?” You looked at him over your shoulder.

“You don’t like it, doll?” he asked, licking at it again, “If you don’t just say so. I’ll stop.” he stated. Which wasn’t a lie, he probably should’ve asked you before doing it in the first place.

“Well, it’s not that I don’t like it... it’s just so dirty but I think in a good way,” you shove your face back in your pillow.

He chuckled, maybe that was why he loved the idea of it so much as well. It was so debauched - something he only got to share with you. To the world he maybe pure and pious but he won’t hesitate to eat his girl’s ass any chance he gets.

“I know, doll. It’s like you stir up something dark in me,” he gritted, pressing his thumb inside your tight pluckered hole, “I knew the moment I met you, you were nothing but trouble,” He groaned when he felt you clenched around his thumb.

You jerked forward at the unusual fullness. Gasping incredulously, “Wh - I’m trouble?! You’re the one with your finger buried up my ass. But sure! I’m the one corrupting America’s son,” you yelped when you he delivered a harsh slap on your butt. “Jesus! Warn a girl!” you heaved as you felt heat rush to your cheeks. Being so exposed to him and letting him have his way with you - most of it liking it WAY more than you should have should make you feel at least a modicum of shame but it didn’t.

He shushed you, “Didn’t you promise to be good?”

“I promised no such thing!”

He shook his head, there was no point in making you behave, not that he truly wanted you to be good anyway. Pulling his thumb out of your ass, he slathered some lube on your slippery folds, massaging it on your bundle of nerves.

You whimpered into the pillow, “Do we even need it anymore?”

“Yes, we do,” he held your hips in a firm grip, lining himself up to your cunt, “You’re too small to take me without it,” he smirked as he pushed into your warm heat.

You would never understand how much he loved the fact that you were smaller than him. He could fight off anyone who dared to threaten you or hurt you, he had to bend a significant amount to kiss you, he could easily haul you up, manhandle you - do whatever he wants to you. Not that he’d ever take advantage of his strength - but these were some privileges he would never have without the serum.

He bend over you, his chest to your back, pulling you closer to him by circling a hand around your soft stomach. Driving his hips back before harshly snapping them forward. He nuzzled the crook of your neck, “How does that feel? Hm?” He set a fast pace, thrusting into you with much more vigor than the previous night. Something about doing it from behind made it all the more primal and needy.

“So good,” you choked. Your fingers digging into his forearms as you felt his tip hit your spongy spot, making your vision blurry and mind hazy.

He knelt above you again, so he could look at your ass. Jiggling from the force of his thrusts. His hand ached to spank it again - but he knew he shouldn’t. Not before talking to you about it. He compromised on fondling it with his palm as he felt you clench around his length.

“You close, doll?”

“Yeah,” you murmured as you felt the coil in your belly snap, your whole body going taut as pleasure took over you.

Your hips collapsed back on the bed - not really having enough energy to hold yourself up anymore.

He pulled out just when he was about to come, jerking his cock with his hand till spurts of his spend landed on your ass and back.

He used the shirt you were wearing to clean to you up, setting the tray of breakfast before you and giving your forehead a quick kiss.

You munched on a slice of apple, slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your giggles. causing him to raise his brow at you. “It’s just I’m completely naked -having breakfast in bed. Never imagined I’d get so lucky.” you gushed, making heart eyes at him.

“I’m the lucky one,” he smiled, booping your nose, “I have to get going though.”

“I thought you wanted to have breakfast together?” you pouted, hoping that would make him stay as he rummaged through his closet, setting his clothes out. Giving you a nice view of his bubble butt. It’s thicker than mine.

He looked at you over his shoulder, “I already had my breakfast, doll,” he winked.

Your jaw dropped as you closed your mouth and then opened it again, gaping like a goddamn fish as you tried to think of something to say.

He wrapped a towel around his waist, making his way to the shower, “I’m running late since you distracted me.”

“Sure I distracted you.” you rolled your eyes.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve greeted him, putting a hand over his shoulder to get his attention.

“What the fuck?” he helped, spilling his coffee all over his keyboard. He turned around in his chair, giving Steve a steely glare, “What is wrong with you?”

“Sorry,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. Sure ambushing Tony in his lab may not be his greatest idea but - “I need a favor.”

“It’s always about what people need from me,” the billionaire shook his head despondently, trying to clean his soiled workspace with some napkins, “Came to ask for sex tips, have you?”

“What?!” Steve blurted out, his eyes widening.

Did Natasha go around telling everyone about their private conversation? If so he’ll never hear the end of it. He was on the receiving end of almost all of Tony’s jabs. Why was he coming to him for such an important favor anyway...

“Too bad for you, I don’t give away my trade secrets.” He shrugged.

Steve rubbed a hand over his face, taking a deep breathe, he can do this, it’s for his girl.

“Fine, I’ll tell you some of them. A woman has eight erogenous zones - ”

Right, this was just Tony being Tony. Nat would never to that to him.

“Jesus, Tony! I don’t need sex advice from you!” He was well acquainted with your erogenous zones now, even though you’ve only been together a couple of times. He could make you come without even touching you.

“Really?” Tony raised a brow, eyeing him up and down, “It’s weird that you have a life outside of the Avengers in the first place.”

“Right. You probably think I go to sleep in the cap suit,” Steve retorted, his lips pressed in a flat line. To most people there was no distinction between cap and him.

“Actually, I did,” he grinned, “What did you want anyway?”

“Well... I need you to promise to keep this between us,” Even if he and Tony had somewhat of a ‘complicated’ friendship, there was no one he could trust with this,

He nodded, “Cross my heart,” doing so over his chest.

“Is there anyway you can hack into a CCTV camera?” Steve asked, giving him your address. There was only one outside of your building, it wasn't much but it was all he had to work with.

“Should be easy enough,” he said, hitting the keys of his keyboard, “Looks like their footage expires in a month or so.”

“That’s okay, I only need to see this past week,” he pulled up a chair, taking a seat beside him.

“Are we stalking Miss unicorn? Is she cheating on you?!” he gasped. “If you get cheated on then the rest of us don’t have any hope.”

“No... she thinks she’s being stalked. And I believe her.”

“She’s awfully lucky to have an Avenger for a boyfriend then.... are you sure you want to go through over two hundred hours of it? Just get an intern to do it,” he pressed play, fast forwarding it over four times.

“I can’t trust anyone else with this. Besides I’ll know what to look for,” The serum also gifted him keen eyes. Even if the the footage was blurry and pixelated he could figure out a lot by just looking at body language and such. “You don’t have to watch it with me.”

“Oh no, don’t worry, I have nothing else to do,” he drawled, “JARVIS, cancel all my appointments. We’re stalking Steve’s girlfriend. I’ll go get the popcorn.”

It was not easy to spend the entire weekend sitting in a chair watching basically nothing with Tony, but Steve managed to just tune him out. He seemed to get excited, to poke fun, every time Steve dropped you off at your doorstep, always leaving with a thorough goodbye kiss.

Think of the children!

All this PDA is not good for you squeaky clean image, Cap. You’ve been corrupted by the Gen Z and the millennials.

“Wait, stop right there,” Steve asked upon spotting an electrician, inconspicuous at first sight...

“It’s just the cable guy.”

“He’s carrying a gun, see,” he pointed at the screen.

Tony scrunched up his nose, “No, he’s not. You can barely see his face.”

“Is there a way to get a clearer image of his face?”

“No. This isn’t a movie. You can always interrogate her neighbors,” he suggested.

“I don’t know about that. Let’s keep that as a plan B.”

They didn’t really find anything else of use. He cracked his neck, ready to home to you after a long day. Grateful that he had someone to go home to. He thanked Tony while putting on his jacket.

“Don’t thank me. Just remember that you owe me forever.”

“That’s fair I guess...” he dusted off the wrinkles in his pants.

“So does she like live with you now? Haven’t you only been dating for two months? I’ve never even had a relationship that long.”

“Well, I’m not you.” And he didn’t appreciate other people snooping in his private life. He had no idea what he would do if his relationship went public. He decided not to worry about that for now. He needed to work on his first least.

Three weeks later

You huffed, your ankle twisting against the ground. You straightened your feet back up and willed yourself to keep walking. Just two more blocks. You can do this.

Today was not your day. Your boss had sent you all the way to Connecticut to do a delivery. Even though it wasn’t your job to do deliveries. Which meant you had to take the subway - which was over an hour late. You couldn’t even call Steve to let him know that you would be late because your phone just chose to stop working.

And then your heel broke... which meant you were dragging yourself back home all the way from the station.

You were ready to just go to sleep and maybe never wake up.

“Finally,” you grumbled, slamming the door behind you and ridding your feet of the uncomfortable strappy knock offs. “Oh, Steve, you wouldn’t believe the day I had,” you plumped down on the couch, laying back against the cushions.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” You opened your eyes to see him standing tall in front of you. His hands folded over his chest and his jaw clenched as he glared at you.

“Huh?”

“It’s almost midnight,” he shook his head. “Did it occur to you to maybe call me and let me know that you were going to be late?”

“I - my phone just stopped working - ”

“Let me guess - you forgot to charge it again,” Your name rolled off his tongue, which meant something was wrong - he never said your name, he had over a million nicknames for you. “That’s not charming. That’s just careless and irresponsible of you. You’re an adult, start acting like it.”

“Fuck you.” The words escaped your mouth before you could ponder about it. Tears burning your eyes, but you held them back, you had never been afraid of being vulnerable in front of him. Right now, however, you needed to stand your ground.

A look of hurt crossed his face before it hardened again. “You can never take any sort of criticism - ”

“It just stopped working!” you yelled, interrupting him. “It’s old and yeah I don’t use it properly because I’m irresponsible, so it stopped. I didn’t even know what time it was.”

“I was worried about you,” his voice cracked. He rubbed his eyes. “I made so many calls. I called your mother - who didn’t even know who I was.” He gave you a sardonic chuckle. He was discussing marriage plans with you and you hadn’t even told your family about him.

“You know, Steve, if you want a responsible and mature girlfriend, you should go and get one. I’ll make it easier for you,” you stood up, bumping into him and heading towards the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he grabbed at your forearm, pulling you back.

“I’m leaving! I’ll go stay at my mothers,” you choked on a sob, your arms feebly trying to fight him off, “I don’t need you or your help! I’m sure plenty of mature women would love to be with Captain America.”

“Stop it! I didn’t mean it like that and you know it,” Your tears pulled at his heart strings. Making him regret his words.

“If you didn’t mean it then you shouldn’t have said it,” you spit. Finally gathering enough courage to look into his eyes, “I guess I know what you think of me now.” Your bottom lip quivering as you tried to push at his chest. But he was built like a rock, refusing to budge even a bit.

He grabbed your wrists, “I’m sorry, doll. I should’ve used better words. But you can’t just pack up and leave whenever we have a fight.”

You scoffed, “Yes I can! Just watch me!”

“Yes, you can,” he sighed, pulling your head into his chest, “but you shouldn’t. Don’t you think your words hurt me too?” he asked. Nuzzling his nose in your hair, swaying you both side to side but you were still pushing at his chest and whimpering. “Just let me hold you for a while. I thought something bad had happened to you.”

Which seemed to quell your rage for the time being as you went limp in his arms. He hadn’t told you about the suspicious cable guy or how maybe you were being stalked. Either by SHIELD, someone out for revenge on him or an unwanted suitor of yours. It didn’t really matter. He didn’t want to worry you, maybe he should tell you to get you to take things more seriously.

“You really had me worried there,” he mumbled, “Do you forgive me?” Placing a kiss to your hair.

You shook your head against his chest. “Nuh-uh.”

“What do I have to do to earn your forgiveness?” he wanted to know.

You rubbed your tears and snot on his shirt - as a petty revenge, looking up at him with your swollen eyes and nose, “I read somewhere that the best way to ask for forgiveness is changed behavior.”

“That is true,” he nodded.

“Since you’ve never been that mean before - I can let it go for now. Only if you promise not to do it again.”

“Of course, sweet - ”

“I mean it. No yelling, cursing or meanness of any sort. I don’t care that you’re Captain America. You can’t talk to me like that.”

“I promise.”

“You have to pink promise to seal it. A pink promise has higher esteem than a normal one,” you stated, holding your pinky up to him.

“Can I seal it with a kiss?” he suggested but then bit his tongue at the deadly glare you have him. “Okay then, I pinky promise,” he linked his pinky with yours, looking into your eyes, “I’ll never ever yell at you or curse at you. Or be mean ever again - the last thing I want to be is like my father.”

“What? You never told me that your dad - ”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” he shook his head, “Can I kiss you? Please?” he gave you his best puppy eyes.

“Nope,” you pushed him away. You can’t be too easy. He had to pay. “I’m tired, I had a long day. Im'a just go to bed,” you gave an exaggerated yawn.

You headed off to your shared bedroom again, but then before you knew it - in the blink of an eye - he hauled you over his knee as he sat back on the couch.

“Not so fast,” he tutted, stroking your clothed buttcheek. “Let’s not forget you were at fault too. You had me worried sick. I was imagining the worst things about you and I couldn’t get a hold of you. I’m never letting you out my sight again.”

You rubbed your forehead, dizzy from being spun so fast. Looking at him over your shoulder, “But what you did... or said was deliberate.”

“Maybe so. But you could've called me and let me know. I would’ve come to you and picked you up.” He pinched your butt as you yelped.

“I don’t remember your number!” You heaved. What was he up to? Why were you over his lap?

He shook his head. “Even you have to agree that is irresponsible. You’re supposed to be good at numbers, baby. Aren’t you an accountant? Think you can count to seven? You need to be taught a lesson.” He pulled the helm of your dress, exposing your Powerpuff girls panties to him.

The smug asshole. “Excuse me! Who are you to teach me a lesson?”

He snapped the elastic band against your hip, “These are cute.”

Your cheeks heated up and you tried to tell him off, flustered and exhausted you just give up. Pushing your cheek against the cushion. “Whatever,” you grumble.

“You’re such a brat you know that? You love making me worry when all want to do is protect you and keep you safe,” he pulled your panties down till they were tangled in your ankles, warming you up by stroking your naked cheeks. “I’m getting you a new phone. And you don’t need to work for someone who doesn’t appreciate you - I can take care of now,” He had always had a bad feeling about your eccentric boss, sending you away on such a short notice - you absolutely did not deserve to be treated like that. “How many do you think you deserve?”

Steve never associated spanking with sexiness or as anything erotic. He was supposed to be a gentleman. He shouldn’t have such dirty kinks.

Sure he likes a nice plump ass. Your ass to be more specific. He loved seeing it in tight yoga pants, snug jeans. Hell he even liked seeing it in dresses that don’t necessarily flaunt it. When he is forced to use his imagination.

He also liked seeing it in your cute pastel cotton panties. With stars or heart patterns. Or better yet, no panties.

Just a few days ago, he saw your ass perched up in your cute pink panties, as you were scrolling on your phone, leaning on the kitchen counter, he couldn’t help it, his hand moved before he could even register what was happening. He slapped your ass, the smack echoing in the room, your ass jiggling, and your small yelp, made him harder than hed ever been.

You looked so adorable when you tried to act like you didn’t like it. Though the musky scent of your weeping sex clearly said otherwise. He bent you over the counter and fucked you then and there to prove you wrong.

He never spanked you again. He didn’t get a chance to, until now...

You were pretty out of it, sleep taking over your tired eyes, maybe that’s why it just slipped out - “Whatever you want, daddy.”

“What?” he instantly stopped his ministrations, staring at the back of your head.

“What?” you asked. Your eyes widening , “Oh dear god, did I say that out loud?” You shut your eyes so tightly, refusing to ever look at him again.

You had only ever read about it in erotica or used the term in jest. Maybe part of you did feel that way about Steve but there was absolutely no way you’d ever admit it. You joked with your friends about how Steve was a ‘big daddy’ when you had told them you were dating Captain America. Because of his height and build and nurturing nature. They dubbed him ‘America’s daddy’.

“Yes, you did,” you could feel him smirking through the smugness dripping in his voice, “It’s ok, doll. I don’t get why you’re embarrassed, I can be your daddy. I think you deserve seven? For every hour you were late. You promised to be home by five pm.”

You didn’t say a single word, not really trusting yourself to speak at all. He pinched your butt again, demanding an answer. “Yes! Fine! Seven is okay I guess.”

“You are to count them and then thank me for them. Understood?”

“Just get on with it,” you would feel yourself getting wetter with anticipation, you squirmed in his hold, rubbing your thighs together to create some friction.

“Keep up that attitude and I’ll spank you till you can’t see straight. And now, just because of that it’s ten.” He slipped his hand between your legs. Smearing your arousal around your lips. You probably didn’t know about his enhanced sense of smell, letting him know whenever you were aroused. “What do you want the safe word to be? When you say it - we stop.”

“How about buttercream?” you suggested.

“Buttercream it is. Now get ready. Remember to count and - ”

“And thank you, yes I remember,” you rolled your eyes. Wondering if he’s ever going to actually go through with it or if he was all talk.

You yelped as soon as he landing the first blow, the burning sting and the loud smack that following causing your cheeks to heat up.

“One. Thank you...” you tried to catch your breathe, “daddy.”

His cock stirred at your new petname for him. He could sink into you right then and there but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

He raised his hand again, delivering blow after blow to you, alternating between both your cheeks. Sneaking one small to your upper thigh as well - just because he could. He held back his strength, of course. He didn’t really want to hurt you, just teach you a lesson.

“Nine, holy fuck!” your nails dug into your palms as you clenched your fists tightly. Needing something to hold onto. “Th-thank you, daddy!” You added. Cursing yourself for almost forgetting.

He let his fingers wander down to your cunt again, dipping a finger in your heat, “You seemed to be enjoying this. Have you learned your lesson?”

You furiously nodded your head, “Yes! I’ll always tell you when I’m going to be late. I mean... as soon as I get a new phone.”

He snorted, “Don’t worry about that, princess,” Soothing a hand over your swollen skin, “Just one more. Think you can take it?” you nod again.

You whimpered and then moaned as he delivered the last slap to your right cheek. “Te - n,” you hiccupped, “Thank you...”

“You were so good, sweetheart,” he cooed. Setting you down on the couch, hovering over your back and peppering kisses to your ass, “but I’m far from done with you.”

You hummed as you heard the tell-tale sign of him unzipping his pants. “Gonna be a long night,” you giggled into the pillow.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

[elidelochans]

For the Elucien week drabbleathon, can I have Lucien finding out about his bio father and talking through his feelings with Elain?

ELUCIEN WEEK

DAY 7: FREE CHOICE

Okay so this is kinda funny to get this. I actually have this in my docs that's a multi chapter fic. The feelings bit with Elain is spoilery for the story itself so I can't share that...yet. But what I can do is show this part. Basically in this story, Elain finds out of Lucien's parentage through a vision and this scene below is what happens after that. It's set to be a few parts. Where Lucien deals with this information and then Lucien and Elain playing matemakers lmao. The chapter after this is where we deal with Lucien and talking to Elain I can tag you in it whenever I post this story to tumblr.

TRIGGER WARNING: very, very slight mention of child abuse

The three of them settled in the sun-lit room. For an office it was worlds different than Rhys' in the river estate back in Velaris. That room was a standard four walls. This one, Helion's office in the Day Court was a rounded room. Tall ivory columns wrap around the circular area. There were no windows, it was simply an open space allowing the sunlight and the warm kiss of its rays inside to dance along the tiled floor. Elain adored the sun peering in at every angle and the soft breeze that followed. She only wished they were here for better circumstances.

Glancing between the High Lord of Day and her mate, the resemblance was uncanny. From their posture, sitting regal yet with an air of recklessness to the silken strands of hair, matching grins, and the shape of their eyes. Mother above even their nose was the same. There was no denying her vision wasn’t false. They scarcely were.

When she told Lucien of seeing Helion and his mother, he refused to believe it. He was Beron's son unfortunately. His mother would never hide this from him. Elain pointed out to him that he did in fact cleave an unbreakable spell to come to her aide that day in Hyberns. No Autumn court member, high fae or otherwise had done that. Lucien attempted to pin it on the bond. Elain dismissed it bringing up his tendency to glow when in the throes of passion. The seer had once asked her sister if this common for faes to glow while being intimate. Feyre told her it was power from the High Lord of Day. Elain never could make sense of it. Why her mate glowed like a fire bug in the summer seasons until her vision. Lucien claimed it could be from a crossed lineage years ago.

“Lucien...you said you never felt like you were a Vanserra. That there was something wrong with you.”

“Maybe this is why. Because you’re not a Vanserra. We go to the Day Court and ask Helion says no then fine.”

There was panic and fear in his russet eyes when he looked at her. “What if he says yes?”

Elain crossed the threshold to her love taking his face in her hands, resting their foreheads together, her fingers lacing with his. “Then I will be there with you and together we will hear him out.”

With reluctance he agreed and now they were here, an awkward tension like a dense fog slowly filling the silent room.

Lucien leaned backed in the golden chair, hand flexing at fae speed on the arm of it, his equally golden eye whirring as it zeroed in on Helion. The High Lord's brows quirked up in amusement, a roguish smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.

"I've always wondered what that eye of yours could do. What it could see." Elain's cheeks flushed a vibrant pink, Helion's gaze fell on her offering a wink, "Petal." He purred, "Is it alright if I call you petal?"

The smile he gave her could turn someone's insides into liquid heat. No wonder he had as many lovers as there were clouds in the sky. She chuckled before answering, shifting in her seat, "Elain is fine."

"Ah, I see. We don't want to upset your mate and have him feel left out."

Helion turned to Lucien who remained silent and watching. A steely gaze on his father, Not father and his boots tapping with the same ferocity as his hand. Elain reached through the bond feeling wave after wave of anxiousness roiling through him. It was enough to make her feel nauseous like they were in a sea of turbulent waters instead of seated, far away from any ocean. His heart, she could tell, was battering so quickly Elain was surprised it didn’t fling directly out of chest. There was something else she noticed in the bond. Realization. He knew. And Lucien was not handling it well in his mind. Elain poured her affections down the bond then overlapping her hand with his. Sweeping a thumb over his knuckles. A silent statement to say, I'm here.

Elain smiled tenderly, noting the appreciation in his russet eye as Lucien glanced at her fingers. Sliding in between his own, squeezing them in reassurance. He repeated the action to her, holding tightly as if she were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. Then his eyes met hers. The nervousness etched on his beautiful face softened. Her heart fluttered as it always did when he looked at Elain this way. Like she was his home. His comfort. His everything. Just as he was hers.

Helion coughed a bit too loudly to be real, breaking their moment, "I hate to break up this lovely storybook moment petal. If this is about the Pegasus who ate Rhys' shirt. One Rhys should come and two he left it in the stables. If you’ll excuse me, I do have a party to prepare for and guests will be arriving shortly.” Helion made to stand.

"Sit.” Lucien snarled. Helion’s eyes widened at the pitch and the bite of the one word. “We don't know anything about a Pegasus. We're here on our own accord." Lucien curtly stated.

The two high fae stared each down as Helion slid back into his chair. The fog thick tension is now so deep a knife could only strike it. Helion lifted a hand over his heart " Unfortunately, I don't take mated mates as lovers. I'm honored you thought of me to share your bed." He teased with a lovers grin. The fire in Lucien’s eye was a roaring flame. He was several seconds from exploding. Elain has seen him angry, furious, but nothing like this. If he wasn’t her mate, she’d be frightened at the burning rage beneath him.

"I find that odd. Being if Feyre or Nesta were here you'd take the chance." Elain challenged feeding off the energy her mate emitted.

"I-" His eye shuttered briefly before meeting Elain's again, "Sweet petal," he crooned before he could speak again Elain cut him off feeling Lucien's waring feelings churning through the bond.

"There's a reason you'd deny me. Us. I think it deals with a vision I had and Lucien." She gripped her mate tighter feeling his hand grow clammy yet white hot beneath her own.

Helion grew quiet, brows pressed together, his tanned chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Holding a stern gaze with Lucien. "Of?"

"The past."

Helion blanched, the color of his skin fully drained. All hints of the easy going High Lord faded into nothing. A mask of steel replaced it.

"What did you see?" His voice faltered, shaking and strained. He cleared his throat, aiming for a deeper tone in his voice. One that caused anyone to listen and obey. If an ominous storm with roaring thunder that streaked the sky in lighting had a voice it would’ve sounded like this. It came through gritted teeth in a low predatory growl. "What did you see?"

"You will not speak to her like that." Lucien snapped. Slamming his fists on the desks sparks of embers shot from his hands. Elain jumped back into the chair. Helion had the good sense to look startled for a moment, "Unlike you or my mother, she doesn't keep things from me." then Lucien added that and the steeled features returned.

It was Helion’s turn to stand and move for move copy his son’s actions. “Listen boy. I will rip your throat out if you insult your mother like that in my presence again are we clear?”

Lucien scoffed. Not the usual playful scoff Elain had grown accustomed to. This was laced with malice. “You don’t think I’ve heard threats like this before? My entire life? "I've been beaten for saying less.”

Elucien watched as the emotionless expression Helion wore quickly faded. Now his face crumbled. Pained with grief, the glow in his eyes gone as he stepped away from Lucien. Her eyes darted between the two. This wasn’t just protecting a secret she realized. There was love here. For the lady of the autumn court, and for his son. Her mate.

"I'm sorry." Helion let out in a defeated sigh. "Forgive me. forgive us."

For as fast as that heated anger ripped through Lucien, it seemed to to die down. Like the loud sigh for Helion somehow cooled her mate down.

"I-" Lucien turned to Elain unsure of what to do. Elain did not respond the whites of her eyes rolled up, her body falling back into the chair.

Mate.

The word seared in her head, when thrust back into the past, seeing Helion and the Lady of the Autumn Court together. As if her inner eye was speaking to her, revealing a part neither Lucien nor herself were ready for. Now she felt it. The golden spark tethering two souls. Pure, protective, unbreakable love. Seconds later she came back to reality.

Lucien no longer standing at the desk but kneeling in front of her. Calloused palms on hers while he searched her features.

“Elain?”

She didn’t look at him. Her gaze landed on Helion who took a step back.

“You’re mates."

“There are things bigger than telling you the truth. Stakes are high dealing with him and a situation like ours. This conversation cannot happen here.” Helion drew a finger to follow as he stood. “Ears are everywhere in Prythian. You should know this.” He fixed a sorrowful look on Lucien. “We will talk in my inner office.”

elucienweek taglist: @ladyvanserra @helion-ism @bookologist @firestarsandseneschals @thecrownlands @rarephloxes @elucienweek @nestaisgod

[kjack89]

An Agreement Between Gentlemen (Chapter 13/14)

The penultimate chapter of the E/R Bridgerton AU, regency-era fake-marriage fic. In a return to form, this chapter is entirely SFW. (Chapter 1 tumblr | AO3, chapter 2 tumblr | AO3, chapter 3 tumblr | AO3, chapter 4 tumblr | AO3, chapter 5 tumblr | AO3, chapter 6 tumblr | AO3, chapter 7 tumblr | AO3, chapter 8 tumblr | AO3, chapter 9 tumblr | AO3, chapter 10 tumblr | AO3, chapter 11 tumblr | AO3, chapter 12 tumblr | AO3)

When this Author picked up the mantle left behind by the previous Lady Whistledown, it was with the intention of bringing a little levity to the otherwise long and sometimes dull proceedings that encompass the season, and to provide some color commentary that pokes fun at those otherwise generally unwilling to make light of themselves.

To that end, this Author has remarked upon and highlighted the general scandals that accompany this season as every season, the kind that serve to provide some drama to otherwise dull lives, but risk very little in terms of lasting damage.

This Author has never intended for this to cause actual harm, and as such, owes an apology to the Marquess of Enjolras and Mr. Grantaire. This Author does not dabble in morals, or legality; the sole concern of this column has been amusement, and the ruin of two gentlemen otherwise described by most who have met them as good men is something this Author cannot and will not be a part of any longer. While this Author cannot overstate that there was no prior knowledge of the truth behind the Marquess’s marriage, nonetheless the extra attention shone on it by and through this paper has brought harm, and for that, this Author is truly sorry.

While no promises can be made in regards to accidentally reporting similar in the future, this Author will certainly make every attempt to better vet sources before publishing rumor and innuendo. And the promise this Author does make is that the only additional mention of the Marquess of Enjolras or Mr. Grantaire in this paper will be for happy tidings, with best hopes for whatever they may face in the future. LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 6 JUNE 1831

The summons did not arrive with the usual fanfare, so much so that Enjolras almost missed them entirely.

No gilded envelope hand stamped with the King’s own seal, no scarlet-clad guard from the palace delivering it. Just a small, plain parchment envelope instructing Enjolras to attend to His Majesty the King the following day.

In truth, he very nearly almost missed it entirely, since Porter, who normally would have brought him such things, was confined to bed for the immediate future as he recovered – and the surgeon had been quite strict in his instructions. But Grantaire, far less used to having the number of servants Enjolras did, had seen it sitting on the table in the foyer and brought it into the dining room with him when he came in for breakfast.

“This is good news,” he told Grantaire after scanning through the note, though Grantaire didn’t look convinced.

“To be summoned in front of those with the power to strip you of your titles and lands and throw you in the Tower for the rest of your days, unless they decide to chop off your head instead?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Better a meeting with the King and Queen than the constable,” he pointed out. “Besides, there’s a limit to what they can do, and if they’re intervening now, it will serve to prevent the worst from happening.” He stood to leave the breakfast table before pausing and bending to kiss the top of Grantaire’s head. “In any case, the usual death in this situation would be by hanging, not beheading.”

“Because that’s so comforting a thought,” Grantaire said sourly.

“It should be.”

Grantaire stared at him. “The thought of you being hanged instead of beheaded?”

Enjolras gave him a look. “No, that the King wants to meet with me. I’m not fool enough to think my death by anything other than old age would bring you any comfort.”

Grantaire pretended to consider it. “Going out in a blaze of glory as you attempt to bring the whole damned system to its knees might.”

“Only if you are by my side as proof that I have won you over in the end.”

Grantaire’s expression softened for a moment. “I would die by your side in an instant, but I don’t think that’s proof of anything.” He kissed Enjolras before returning to the subject at hand. “In any case, why should the King wanting to meet with you bring me any comfort whatsoever?”

“Because it means the Crown wants this handled quickly and quietly,” Enjolras said. “Meaning very likely no public trial, and almost certainly no public execution.”

“That would be more comforting without the qualifiers ‘very likely’ and ‘almost certainly’.”

Enjolras sighed. “There is very little in life that is absolutely certain besides death and taxes.”

Grantaire smirked. “And as I have heard you rail about numerous times, the certainty of taxes is not always applied evenly.”

“Do you know, that may be the most romantic thing you have ever said to me,” Enjolras said, grinning at him.

“Oh, hush,” Grantaire said, but he was laughing, and seemed, for the moment at least, to forget his concerns about Enjolras’s impending appointment with the Crown.

They resurfaced in full force the following day as Enjolras adjusted his cravat while waiting for the carriage to pull around. “How do I look?” he asked, and Grantaire cast a baleful eye at him.

“Dressed well enough for a meeting with the King and Queen, and not at all like you’re headed to imprisonment or worse.”

Enjolras managed not to roll his eyes, mostly because he did not think it would help the situation. “Luckily for both us, I highly doubt the latter options will come to pass.”

But Grantaire didn’t smile, just reaching out to take Enjolras’s hand. “Just come back to me,” he whispered.

“I have every intention of doing so,” Enjolras told him, his voice low.

Grantaire sighed. “You know I’m going to be a nervous wreck until you do,” he said. “Just like I am every time you’re in danger, even if normally you’re the idiot who’s put yourself there.”

Enjolras half-smiled. “Arguably I’ve put myself in this danger as well.”

Grantaire gave him a look. “We’ve had this argument before,” he said evenly.

“Yes, and I still refuse to cast any blame on you.”

Grantaire just shook his head. “An argument we’ll have to continue another time, it seems.”

Now Enjolras managed a real smile. “Yes, and all the more reason for me to return. You know I hate to leave a fight unfinished.”

“No, you hate to leave a fight unwon,” Grantaire said pointedly, but for the first time all morning, he looked a little less miserable, and Enjolras took that as a small win in and of itself.

“Are they not one and the same?” he asked innocently, leaning in to kiss Grantaire, who stopped him, his face falling again.

“Enjolras—” he started, and Enjolras frowned.

“What?”

Grantaire searched his expression for a moment before blurting, “I have never once wished you to be less than who you are, and I do not wish it now. The man I love does not back down from a challenge, and his tongue is sharper than any sword.” He paused as if choosing his next words carefully. “But I beg of you, tread lightly. I will not love you less for holding back if it means you survive to fight another day.”

Enjolras did kiss him then, a slow, heated kiss that said hopefully everything he couldn’t bring himself. “I cannot promise my mouth will not get me in trouble. But I do promise I will not deliberately seek it out.” Grantaire made a face and Enjolras gave him a pointed look. “It’s as good a promise as you will get from me.”

“I know.”

“And yet you don’t seem satisfied.”

Grantaire sighed. “I will be satisfied when you are home with me again.”

“And with luck, that will be before you know it,” Enjolras told him bracingly, so convincingly that he almost believed it himself, enough to get him out the door and into the carriage before finally allowing himself to feel the nerves he’d been trying to swallow all morning.

What he had told Grantaire was the truth: this meeting almost certainly meant no real punishment was in store for him.

But he had very little idea of what was in store for him. And that worried him most of all.

----------

Enjolras slowly closed the door behind him, unsurprised when Grantaire immediately appeared from the drawing room, a glass of whiskey in hand, which, judging by the glassiness of his eyes, wasn’t the first he’d had. “Are you ruined?” he asked.

“Define ruined,” Enjolras said, a little grimly.

Grantaire scowled. “Perhaps now is not the time to be glib.”

Enjolras just shook his head as he crossed to him, dropping a kiss on his lips and grabbing the glass of whiskey from his hand, downing it in one gulp. “I wasn’t,” he rasped, handing the glass back to Grantaire and making his way into the drawing room. “The fact is that there is a limit to the punishment I can receive, barring criminal conviction and without an Act of Parliament.” He collapsed onto the couch, reaching up automatically to loosen his cravat. “The Crown has taken what actions it can, which is to say, I am no longer the Viscount of Digne.”

He delivered the words solemnly, but Grantaire just blinked in response. “I did not realize that you were.”

“It is a customary title bestowed upon the current Marquess of Enjolras, with some associated lands,” Enjolras said with a shrug. “Both will be given to more deserving peers, I’m sure.” He hesitated before adding, “Also, none of our issue will be eligible to inherit my title or any lands, save for that which I own outright.”

Grantaire stared blankly at him. “Any of our issue?” he repeated. “As in children?”

Enjolras made a face. “Well, technically my issue. I don’t think the Crown cares so much about yours.” He cleared his throat. “But if I were to remarry and sire children, none of those children would inherit.”

Grantaire raised both eyebrows. “And what are the chances of that?”

“Absolutely none,” Enjolras said, barking a dry laugh. “The King has also told me that my services to his Court will no longer be necessary, meaning my various ceremonial duties will doled out to others and my power at Court, so to speak, is diminished. Beyond that, I retain my title of Marquess and associated lands and riches, which means I will lead a very comfortable life.” He reached out for Grantaire’s hand, lacing their fingers together before raising his hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles. “With you at my side, and without having to hide. So to answer your question, no, I don’t consider that ruin. I consider that a gift.”

Grantaire looked relieved, but he still hesitated. “Even though I will be almost certainly landless and penniless?” he asked, and when Enjolras just frowned at him, he sighed and elaborated, “I doubt highly my father will continue to grant me my allowance and use of the houses when he receives Le Cabuc’s letter.”

Enjolras squeezed his hand. “The Enjolras purse has sustained this family for generations. There’s more than enough left to take care of the man I love.”

Grantaire searched his expression for a moment. “Yet you don’t seem completely satisfied. What else did the King say?”

“Well—”

Before Enjolras could elaborate further, someone cleared her throat from the doorway, and they both turned to look at Enjolras’s mother, who looked unusually somber. “Am I interrupting?”

On instinct alone, Enjolras started to pull his hand away from Grantaire’s, but Grantaire held tight, squaring his shoulders as he met Enjolras’s mother’s expression coolly. “As a matter of fact, you are. Your son and I are having a private conversation.”

He turned back to Enjolras, who tried not to laugh at the look on his mother’s face. But to his surprise, his mother did not immediately snap some dismissive rebuttal, instead inclining her head slightly. “And you have my apologies for intruding, especially at this trying time. But I need to speak to my son, alone, especially in light of his recent visit to the palace.”

Enjolras wasn’t surprised that she had somehow heard about his summons. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of me,” Grantaire said firmly. “Your son and I are sharing our lives, and that includes dealing with whatever family affairs you’ve brought with you.” He again turned to look at her. “And need I remind you, your part in our deception has not yet been revealed, but I will be more than happy to tell anyone and everyone who will listen what drove your son to the desperation of a fake marriage in the first place. I doubt highly your friends among the nobility will be impressed by what they learn.”

Enjolras’s mother’s lips pursed, but again, Enjolras was completely thrown by her response. “Thank you,” she said simply, and Grantaire’s cold expression slipped as he glanced over at Enjolras, who just shrugged. “I can see that you are protective of my son, and while I may not appreciate your tone, I do appreciate knowing that my son has found someone who loves him as...vigorously as you clearly do.”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed, but Enjolras cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he told Grantaire, squeezing his hand once more. “I trust her enough to have a conversation with her, and I can fight my own battles as needed.”

“Are you certain?” Grantaire asked in an undertone, eyeing Enjolras’s mother warily. “I believe you can fight your own battles, but it’s her I don’t trust…”

Enjolras rolled his eyes affectionately. “I have managed this long,” he assured him. 

“Fine.” Grantaire stood, but before leaving, he bent and kissed Enjolras, a long, slow kiss that Enjolras was fairly certain was for his mother’s benefit more than his own.

Not that he minded, since getting to kiss Grantaire and enrage his mother in the same blow was as close to perfection as Enjolras was likely to see in his lifetime.

Then Grantaire straightened again and winked at Enjolras before finally leaving, sidling past his mother with little more than a second glance. For her part, his mother looked mostly impassive at the display she had just witnessed, and she finally fully entered the room, perching imperiously on the armchair. “I suppose it’s too much to hope for tea,” she said with a sniff. 

Enjolras barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. “You might have heard that my butler was attacked,” he said sourly. “I’m sorry if him being laid up recovering from being shot is inconvenient to you.”

“I did hear about Porter, yes, but that’s not to what I was referring,” she said. “Have the servants started fleeing en masse?”

“None have yet offered their resignations, if that’s what you mean,” Enjolras said.

“Of course it’s what I mean,” she snapped. “This is a tainted household now – I doubt most will want to stay. Especially as they’ve no way to ingratiate themselves with whomever the next Marquess will be.” Her lips pursed again. “Do you even know which distant relative is your heir, now that you will almost certainly never sire children of your own?”

Enjolras shrugged unconcernedly. “A third cousin, isn’t it? Lives somewhere out in the west, if memory serves.”

Her eyebrows knit together. “I’m surprised you know that.”

“You once told me all about him when I threatened to abdicate after Father died,” Enjolras said mildly. “You seemed to think it would convince me to think otherwise.”

“Clearly it did.”

Enjolras laughed dryly. “I hate to tell you, Mother, but that actually played a very small part in my decision.”

She scowled. “Perhaps you should have abdicated back then. It may have made for an easier transition for all involved.”

“Perhaps so,” Enjolras said honestly, as it wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed his mind. “But we are well past that point now.”

“In more ways than one.” She paused, giving him a searching look. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in trying to convince you to reconsider.”

Enjolras shook his head. “None.”

His mother nodded, her expression unreadable. “Then that’s the end of it.”

Enjolras hesitated, before saying, as casually as he could manage, “You seem…decidedly less surprised by this whole situation than I would expect.”

“What precisely is there to be surprised about?” she asked.

There were any number of things that Enjolras had expected her to be either shocked or scandalized by, let alone surprised, but the look on her face stopped him. “You mean…you knew?”

“That you were…otherwise inclined?” she provided delicately. “Of course I knew. A mother always knows.” Her expression twisted. “Though I rather hoped you would grow out of it, or at least do the sensible thing and marry a woman while seeking your amusement elsewhere.”

Enjolras shook his head slowly. “I’m not certain I see that as the sensible thing.”

She considered it for a moment before shrugging. “Perhaps not,” she said. “But more sensible than being stripped of your lands and titles.”

“Not all my lands, or all my titles,” Enjolras told her. “The Viscount of Digne is the only major one.”

She made a face. “No real loss there, the bishop in that area rules it with an iron fist and will probably be glad to see the backside of our family.”

Enjolras trusted her to know more about it than he did or frankly cared to. “And there’s a few minor lands that will be redistributed but for the most part, Grantaire and I have made it out unscathed.”

Again his mother made a face. “I don’t know that I would go that far—”

“I imagine you wouldn’t,” Enjolras muttered.

“—But all things considered, it could have been much worse.”

On that, at least, she was correct. “And I’m certain you’ll be glad to know that your own holdings will not be affected, nor your allowance,” he told her. “And Grantaire is letting you keep the dowry.”

That seemed to surprise her. “That is...generous of him,” she allowed, before frowning at her son. “But you speak as if all you think I care about is money.”

Enjolras just arched an eyebrow. “You have given me little evidence to suggest otherwise.”

“Caring about the well-being of my only son isn’t evidence enough?”

He managed not to roll his eyes, but just barely. “Faux sincerity isn’t your strong suit, Mother,” he informed her. “If you wish to convince me, you’ll have to try a different tack.”

To his surprise, she laughed lightly. “Maybe I will, when all the dust has settled,” she said, standing and brushing invisible dust from her skirt before telling him, “I will be leaving the city for the near future, and possibly even the country for a bit. I need my friends and allies at court to think that I was not party to this.”

“You weren’t,” Enjolras said, his brow furrowed. “And you are certainly at liberty to tell anyone you need to as such.”

“I have, and I will,” she said. “But I will also not outwardly condemn you the way they would wish, and that to some is enough to make them think otherwise.”

For the first time in what Enjolras was certain was his entire life, he was speechless. He had frankly expected her to do exactly that in order to maintain her social standing. “You could,” he blurted, ignoring the raised eyebrow she gave him. “Condemn us, I mean. I would not hold it against you if you did.”

“You and I both know that you absolutely would,” she said dryly. “But more than that, you are my son. For all your faults and all our disagreements, public and otherwise, that has never changed. And it will not change now.”

Enjolras was again taken aback by what she said. “Thank you,” he managed, before adding, a little wryly, “I think.”

A small smile crossed her face. “You’re welcome, I think. And now I should leave you to the start of your new life.”

She turned to head to the door, clearly deeming her role in this complete for the time being, but Enjolras stopped her, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What do you think of Grantaire?” he asked. “Now that you know what he is to me.”

She looked back at him, surprised. “You have never sought my approval before.”

“And I’m not seeking it now,” Enjolras said. “Just curious what you think.”

She nodded slowly. “He is not who I would have chosen for you,” she said after a long moment. “But then again, this life is not what I would have chosen for you.”

It was no more than what Enjolras had expected, but before he could say anything, she continued, “I know what you think of me, that you think me cold, and vain, and cruel. And there is certainly more than a little truth to that.” He looked up at her sharply, surprised by this most of all. “I know I shall always play the role of villain in your story. But despite what you may think, I have only ever wanted you to be happy.” She hesitated. “And it makes me terribly sad to know you have chosen a path where the world very well may never let you be happy.”

Enjolras just shook his head slowly. “The difference between you and I, Mother, is that I have never needed the approval of the world to be happy.” He gave her a sharp smile. “Hang what anyone else thinks. So long as I have Grantaire, we will make our own happiness.”

She returned his smile. “I do not doubt that you will. As I said before, you two make quite the pair, and whatever else you may think, I am glad that you two found each other.”

With that, she left, and Enjolras sat where he was for a long moment, digesting everything that had transpired. This had been a day of surprises, from his meeting with the King and Queen to now his conversation with his mother, and he shook his head slowly before standing to go find Grantaire.

He found him in the library, sitting sideways in an oversized armchair, his legs draped over the arm of the chair as he skimmed through a book with seemingly little interest. He brightened when he saw Enjolras come in, tipping his head up automatically for a kiss. “Is she gone?” he asked as Enjolras settled onto the sofa across from him.

“For now, yes.”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “But not forever?”

Enjolras shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not even this scandal was enough to be rid of her forever. But I am...strangely not as bothered by that thought as I once would have been.”

Grantaire blinked. “Did she hit you on the head while she was in there with you?”

“Something like that, anyway,” Enjolras said with a laugh. “But enough about my mother. Where were we?”

He eyed Grantaire appreciatively, mentally trying to determine the mechanics of what they could do with him in that position, and Grantaire scowled. “Certainly not doing that,” he informed him, sitting upright. “You were finishing telling me about your audience with the King and Queen.”

“Oh. Right.” Enjolras shrugged and looked away. “Well, the Archbishop is apparently pushing for us to be excommunicated.”

Grantaire snorted. “Does that mean I no longer have to go to church?” he asked idly. 

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Well, among other things. But there’s an issue.”

“What’s that?”

“We could be imprisoned if we’re excommunicated, for a start.”

Grantaire just arched an eyebrow. “Just as we could be imprisoned for sodomy?”

Enjolras made a face. “The Crown has no intention of pursuing those charges,” he said. “But getting excommunicated could lend credence to future attempts at levying those charges, at likely the least opportune time.”

Grantaire considered it for a moment. “Well. We’ve faced worse prospects.”

Enjolras frowned. “You seem remarkably blasé about the prospect of excommunication, considering how concerned you’ve been about the possibility of imprisonment or worse for the other charges.”

“Mostly because you don’t seem particularly worried about it, and I imagine if this were an actual threat, you’d be somewhat less calm,” Grantaire said evenly. “Besides, I had several glasses of whiskey while you were out so it will take quite a bit for me to get riled at this point.”

“You didn’t seem to have any difficulty getting riled at my mother,” Enjolras pointed out.

Grantaire smiled grimly. “That was a more immediate danger.”

Enjolras shook his head. “Well, you’re not wrong about this not being an actual threat, I suppose. The Monarchy has little desire to create a public spectacle via excommunication and as the Head of the Church, I imagine that’s the end of the matter.”

Grantaire nodded slowly. “Does that mean you’re actually going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Excommunication isn’t enough?” Enjolras asked, mostly rhetorically, and when Grantaire just gave him a look, he sighed. “Fine… I need to get word to Combeferre and Courfeyrac. We have much to discuss ahead of our next meeting.”

“Are you purposefully avoiding the question, or…?”

“I promise I am not,” Enjolras said, his voice low. “But they need to know, because this concerns all of us.” He paused, trying to figure out how to word what he needed to tell both Grantaire and his closest lieutenants. “I was...as surprised as any that the King did not wish to pursue any additional punitive matters. As a whole, the punishment dealt to me is mild, to say the least. And what troubles me is the reason he gave for why.”

Grantaire frowned. “He gave you a reason?”

Enjolras barked a dry, humorless laugh. “Oh, he gave me many. Most were mere platitudes, that out of respect for the service of my father, he would take no additional measures, etcetera, but he also alluded to his hope that our...situation would not inconvenience my political work.” He cleared his throat before adding sardonically, “That he hoped our allies would not abandon us with my public declaration of depravity.”

“And you suspect he actually hopes the opposite,” Grantaire said slowly.

Enjolras nodded. “I’m not going to pretend that my political sympathies are or have ever been well-received at court, and I think most were content to look the other way and pretend that the protests and political actions were the fun side project of an otherwise bored noble. Something I would grow out of in time. But now…”

He trailed off, and Grantaire’s expression turned grim. “Now they might not be so content to look the other way.”

“No,” Enjolras agreed. “And if I or any of our number were to get arrested—”

“Arrested again, you mean,” Grantaire said with the hint of a smile that Enjolras did not return.

“—My position is no longer enough to stave off any significant consequences.” 

Grantaire went very still. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning I may not be ruined. We may not be ruined. But Les Amis may be.”

----------

In lieu of coming over to Enjolras’s to discuss the situation, Combeferre suggested via return message that they call a special meeting of Les Amis. “That seems unusual,” Grantaire murmured, his brow furrowed as he read over the brief message. “Why would they not just come here?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Perhaps they don’t want to be seen entering a den of sin,” he said, more blithely than he remotely felt.

“Jest all you wish, but you cannot pretend the thought hasn’t entered your mind,” Grantaire said. “Not that I believe any of our friends will turn on us entirely, but they are all trying to make marriages of their own, and to be tainted by association…”

He trailed off, and Enjolras just shook his head. “That is their prerogative, and I will not hold it against any man to abide by his conscience.”

“Or by the prospect of increasing his purse?” Grantaire asked sourly.

Enjolras shrugged again. “If that is truly their reasoning, I doubt highly we would be associates for much longer in any case.”

Still, it was with an unusual amount of trepidation that they approached the Musain, and Enjolras hesitated before instructing his driver to drop them off at the back of the building by the worker’s entrance. “I do not doubt they would still receive us at the front entrance,” he told Grantaire. “I am, after all, still a marquess and a certain amount of respect must be paid. But I would rather not put them in that position all the same.”

Grantaire managed a wan smile. “You need not explain yourself to me,” he said. “I understand as well as any that the situation is complicated.”

Enjolras glanced at him. “Speaking of,” he said carefully, “have you heard yet from your father?”

“No.” Grantaire’s tone was clipped as he avoided meeting Enjolras’s eyes, looking out the carriage window instead. “I have not heard from him one way or another, so I have no indication if he has yet received Le Cabuc’s letter.”

“Could Le Cabuc have been bluffing?”

Grantaire shrugged. “Anything’s possible, but I doubt it,” he said. “He always did prefer my father to me.” He hesitated before adding, “I thought I might make a preemptive trip back to the house and gather some belongings. Just some personal effects, and things from my mother and sister that I would rather not lose to my father’s whims.”

Enjolras nodded slowly. “That is probably not a terrible idea.” He hesitated before asking, “Do you wish for me to accompany you?”

“I suspect that would cause more problems than it’s worth,” Grantaire said. “If I go by myself, I can hopefully slip in and out mostly unnoticed.”

Enjolras had expected that answer, but he couldn’t pretend that it didn’t sting, just a little. “Of course.”

Something of what he was feeling must’ve shown on his face, but Grantaire’s expression softened as he added, “Which doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t love for you to return with me, or that I won’t miss you dreadfully while I’m gone.”

“But this is the reality of the life we’ve chosen,” Enjolras said heavily. “Going in the servants’ entrance to avoid being seen. Travelling incognito to not cause a scene. Less visitors or invitations to visit because people won’t wish to be associated with us.”

Grantaire eyed him warily. “I feel as though you are trying to make a point.”

Enjolras shrugged. “Just that I do not care about any of those things. But I would understand if you did, and if the reality of our life together does not align with what you may otherwise have expected.”

To his surprise, Grantaire laughed. “How many times must you and I have this conversation?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I wish that you had chosen a better life for yourself than one stuck with me, who was always titleless and is about to be in short order landless and penniless to boot, just as you wish I had chosen a better life for myself,” Grantaire said, a little impatiently. “But you and I both know that the best choice, the only choice, is each other and whatever accompanies that.”

Enjolras laughed as well, feeling a little relieved that they were on the same page in terms of what mattered. “You’re right.”

“I usually am,” Grantaire said smugly before reaching for Enjolras’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Une vie et un amour, remember?”

“Fidelitas usque ad mortem,” Enjolras said, his voice low, and Grantaire smiled.

“And I still aim to be.”

Together, they stepped down from the carriage and made their way into the Musain through the backdoor. The workers they passed barely gave them second glances, though Enjolras assumed that was likely because they recognized them as frequent patrons, and knew better than to stop or question them.

But despite arriving almost a half hour before the meeting Combeferre had called was set to begin, when they reached the backroom, they could hear the buzz of voices through the closed door. Grantaire gave him a startled look. “Has the meeting already begun?”

“It certainly appears that way,” Enjolras said, feeling inexplicably nervous as he stared at the closed door, straining to hear what was being said beyond it.

“Did Combeferre not say that it would start at 9?”

Enjolras nodded. “He did, but…” He trailed off, not willing to vocalize his doubts. Instead, he squared his shoulders and opened the door, walking in with Grantaire at his side. Combeferre and Courfeyrac stood at the front of the room, the rest of their number assembled, all looking unusually somber, and all conversation stalled as soon as they looked back at Enjolras. “Forgive the interruption,” Enjolras said coolly, closing the door behind him. “I did not realize the hour of our meeting had changed.”

“It didn’t,” Combeferre said, his expression impassive. “But there was certain business we felt we should attend to before your arrival.”

“What sort of business?” Grantaire asked with a frown.

Combeferre did not seem deterred by his tone. “The business of determining if your continued membership amongst our association is beneficial or a detriment, mostly.”

“I see,” Enjolras said, his heart sinking in his chest. “Well, don’t let us impede your discussion.”

“We have nothing left to discuss,” Courfeyrac interjected. “All that remains is to vote.”

Grantaire reached out and took Enjolras’s hand, lacing their fingers together firmly. Combeferre cleared his throat. “All those in favor of expelling Enjolras and Grantaire from our number due to their sexual deviance and the threat that it poses to Les Amis and our efforts?”

Not a single hand rose in the air, and Grantaire squeezed Enjolras’s hand.

“And all those opposed?”

As one, all of their friends raised their hands before standing and applauding. Joly and Bossuet were positively beaming, Courfeyrac wolf-whistled, and Combeferre stepped forward to embrace Enjolras. “There was never any doubt which way the vote would go,” he told Enjolras, “but I knew you would not be satisfied if there was no vote at all.”

“Besides, if we start exiling people for buggery, there are more than a few of us who would be in trouble,” Courfeyrac said cheerfully as he embraced Enjolras as well.

“Hear, hear,” Bahorel chortled.

Joly took Bossuet’s hand and squeezed it. “Grantaire helped us avoid a scandal of our own, and we owe him our loyalty,” he said. “Besides which, I swore to go through fire for you, and I would not forsake that oath lightly.”

“Thank you, my friends,” Enjolras said quietly, his chest tight with emotion.

Grantaire squeezed his hand once more before leaning in and whispering in his ear, “It appears I am not the only one who understands the meaning of loyalty until death.” Enjolras wordlessly squeezed his hand in return and Grantaire smiled at him before asking Courfeyrac, “But one of our number is missing, is he not? Where is your erstwhile roommate this evening?”

“Oh, he has found the girl he was looking for,” Courfeyrac said airily. “It turns out your little announcement was good for more than one thing – she was the one who swooned in his arms!”

Much laughter greeted that announcement and Enjolras shook his head. “Leave it to Marius…” he started before trailing off, glancing around the room at the smiling faces of each of his friends, all those whom he loved most in this world. “Thank you all,” he said softly. “I know this will not be easy, but I appreciate your continued faith and love.”

“Our goal has always been to fight against oppressive powers in whatever form,” Combeferre told him. “And condemning men based on consensual acts in their bed chamber would be playing into that oppression.”

“Just promise us one thing,” Bossuet interjected.

Enjolras raised both eyebrows. “What’s what?”

“No funny business,” Bossuet said, mock-sternly. “No suddenly agreeing with everything the other says just because it’s your lover saying it.”

Again everyone laughed and Enjolras shook his head good-naturedly. “I don’t think we’re in much danger of that.”

“After all,” Grantaire added slyly, “what I love far more than him agreeing with me is that delightful shade of red he gets when he so vehemently disagrees with me. Who am I to give that up now?”

“In truth,” Enjolras said when the laughter again died down, “we aim to keep things as much the same as we can.” 

“And we’ll be relying on you lot to keep it that way,” Grantaire said. 

“There’s one other promise we would ask,” Feuilly said, glancing around. “Or at least, that I would ask.”

Enjolras’s smile faded, just slightly, at Feuilly’s far more serious tone. “If it is in our power to grant it, we will.”

“No more lies.” There were a few murmurs of agreement that Feuilly waited to die down before continuing, “There is not a man among us who does not understand the reason for your deception, but we in this room are brothers, and we deserve the truth no matter what consequence it may bring.”

Grantaire took Enjolras’s hand once more and squeezed it before affirming, “No more lies. We owe not just you the truth from here on out, but each other as well. And it’s the very least that we can give in return for your generosity and personal sacrifices.”

“In that case, let us open the wine and get the celebration started,” Jehan called, standing up on his chair to be seen. “To Enjolras and Grantaire!”

“To Enjolras and Grantaire!” everyone repeated, whatever glasses they had in hand, and Enjolras rolled his eyes with obvious affection before leaning in and kissing Grantaire as everyone cheered.

Grantaire was grinning as he pulled away, and that sight alone was enough to make everything they had endured and everything that they had left to endure absolutely worth it in Enjolras’s opinion. But before he could say anything to that effect to Grantaire, Joly and Bossuet grabbed Grantaire by both arms, tugging him away. “You owe us more than mere truth,” Joly said, with an almost evil grin. “You owe us details.”

“Exactly,” Bossuet said, wearing a matching smile. “And we want to hear all about your first time bedding Enjolras.”

“We promised the truth, not all the gory details,” Grantaire protested, making a pleading face at Enjolras, who just laughed. 

Before he could rescue him, Combeferre pulled him aside. “I wanted a moment, if it is not too much of an imposition.”

Enjolras clapped him on the shoulder. “For you, my friend, never. Especially as I believe I owe you especially an apology for our deceit.”

Combeferre shook his head. “I understand it more now,” he said. “And honestly, I’m surprised I did not put the pieces together earlier.”

“Grantaire said he was always a little obvious, even if I never noticed either,” Enjolras said good-naturedly.

But Combeferre just shook his head. “Grantaire may have been, but it’s you I should have noticed.”

“Me?”

Combeferre shrugged. “Looking back on it, all the clues were there, least of all how you allowed Grantaire to stay, not just for meetings, but well into the night when you were ostensibly working, a privilege bestowed on no one else. And I cannot help but think that if I had noticed sooner, we would have had more time to plan, to minimize the fallout.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “My friend, you could have told me until you were blue in the face that I was completely and obviously in love with Grantaire, and I would never have believed you,” he said. “It was something I needed to figure out with him.” He made a face. “Though you are right that I should have told you sooner, before we made our announcement, so that plans could have been made in advance, and for that, I do owe you an apology.”

“One that I readily accept,” Combeferre told him. “And the only recompense I ask from you is the answer to this: are you happy?”

“Yes,” Enjolras said, without even needing to consider it. “More so than I thought was possible, or at least probable.”

Combeferre gave him a wide, genuine smile. “Then the rest we will deal with when or if the time comes.”

Again, Enjolras’s chest felt tight with emotion, with the weight of how much his friends cared for him and Grantaire. “I truly do not know how to thank you, how to thank everyone, for what you have given Grantaire and myself.”

“There is no need to thank us,” Combeferre said. “Especially since you have given us something equally precious.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are free,” Combeferre said simply. “And that gives the rest of us hope.”

----------

Enjolras let out a sigh of relief mingled with happiness as he sat down in the waiting carriage. Grantaire clambered in after him, and sat down on the bench next to him instead of sitting across from him. “That went well.”

“That went far better than well,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire glanced sideways at him. “Surely you did not expect Combeferre or Courfeyrac to abandon you, or honestly any of our friends.”

Enjolras just shrugged. “In truth, I did not know what to expect.” He nudged Grantaire gently. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Whatever for?”

“For making my life complete,” Enjolras said honestly. “And so completely happy.”

Grantaire smiled at him, his eyes shining even in the dim light of the carriage, but he promptly ruined the moment by asking, “How much wine did you drink?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I had half a glass at best,” he protested. “Not nearly enough to undermine my sincerity. Nor my conviction that somehow, against all odds and, frankly, against our own efforts to the contrary, everything for us is turning out better than I ever could have imagined, let alone hoped.”

Grantaire rested his head against Enjolras’s shoulder. “We have been extraordinarily lucky,” he murmured.

“We have been,” Enjolras agreed, squeezing Grantaire’s hand. “We have our friends, and we have each other. Whatever else comes our way, so long as we still have that, we will be fine.”

“More than fine,” Grantaire corrected, raising Enjolras’s hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles. “Our future will be happy. Of that, I am as certain as anything.”

“Being in love really has changed you if you suddenly start espousing convictions,” Enjolras teased.

But Grantaire just smiled at him. “It’s changed us both.”

“For the better?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire kissed him, a gentle, sweet kiss that was a promise of more to come. “For the best.”