#it's just a thing people tend to do a lot anyways in casual social interactions

[allthoseotherworlds]

It's not inherently problematic to let others know when something is triggering for you.

Like, obviously it's good to work on your issues and whatever, but therapy isn't some magic wand that instantly cures people with mental health problems.

I have made a lot of progress in therapy but while making that progress I still have to like. Exist in society.

It's not walking on eggshells if I, for example, ask my coworkers to avoid diet talk around me. They're not going to be perfect at it, but it's not unreasonable for me to ask them to consider it.

Yes, you are the only one you have any measure of control over, but in general people do actually try to be decent to each other a lot of the time and that's an important thing about society I think.

[fitzrove]

God that post reminded me. Potentially controversial rant

If I have to see one more post going "men are so amazing, it's totally valid and revolutionary to love and prioritise the men in your life!! women (especially lesbians) are so mean and prejudiced about men and need to be nicer and check their biases", I'm going to..... well, I'm not going to do much but I'll be super annoyed and unfollow whoever puts it on my dash 🤣

Disclaimer: this isnt about anyone in my tumblr sphere lol you guys are cool. But anyway.....

I have many male acquaintances/casual friends IRL, through school. I tend to get along with people regardless of gender. And yet, YET, no matter how polite, friendly, funny, educated and smart they are, with most people (exceptions exist, but this is MOST people), there are inherent problems that come from existing in or alongside Guy Social Spaces as a woman. And Guy Social Spaces wouldn't exist without the guys that uphold them......

In my guy-dominated environment I actually manage to avoid most forms of (non-benevolent; benevolent sexism still sucks and makes me uncomfortable though, and I don't actively befriend guys irl because of how commonplace it is) sexism because I'm openly gay. Not being seen as an object of sexual interest and being able to fit into a bit of a "not like other girls" social role means that I don't actually have to deal with the baggage that comes with heterosexism and the heterosexual sphere (I use heterosexual to refer to all non-platonic relationships between men and women here, btw - for these purposes it doesnt matter what the sexualities of the people involved are). But like.......

I recently went to dinner with some girls and found out that the guys at my school - people that I've found all-around decent and extremely friendly and respectful to me - treat the women they date as objects. Like it's a conquest thing when they """bag""" a good-looking girl, and everyone (literally everyone) shakes hands and congratulates the guy for "getting" an attractive girlfriend. As if she's not right there (she was, she's the one who told me about what happened) and as if she didn't have 50% control of the decision to begin a relationship. And the way they talked about her body and appearance too... It's really gross and objectifying and I didn't know about this because I get to exist outside of it!! But that's really only one thing. Even outside of that, the way that people who don't have to worry about sexism or discrimination treat women and talk about them behind their backs manifests in a million small ways. And the thing is, these guys are ostensibly among "the good ones"!!! These people have intelligent conversations about social justice and equality in class and treat me with respect as a peer because I've proven both my academic and professional cred, that I can take a joke, that I'm funny, that I know enough nerd culture stuff to not be a boring ditzy fake. (The fact that these things are necessary for me to be seen as a peer is, by the way, fucked up.) But their progressive views just don't seem to apply to day-to-day social interactions and relationships....

So idk i dont think this is super eloquently put but yeah. Fuck you if you think being wary or bitching about people in places where they can't see it (ie tumblr rant posting) is a form of hatred lol. Especially when the patriarchy still exists....... you can't "guy positivity<333" yourself out of that one. I don't hate men but the people who say they do must have a reason to. And ugh about this one post that I hated in particular, I hate how it was formulated like "hating men hurts trans women too :(" bestie trans women suffer even more under the patriarchy because they (often) have to interact with guys (including sexist guys and Guy Spaces) growing up and might lose a lot of friends/have things go sour when they transition, I bet a lot of trans women online post about hating men too lol. (That latter point also goes for nonbinary people and guys who don't fit into Guy Spaces for some reason, or who don't perform masculinity in the hetero-ascribed way.) But overall yeah posts shaming me/women/lesbians for not being nicer about men (when in fact a lot of critical posts are intended to be against the system, not on all people everywhere just based on their gender identity, and a good faith reading would make this abundantly clear) are only going to make me more of a bitch sorry

(Also re: the guy loving positivity posts. Those are just boring and annoying to me sometimes sorry 😭😭😭 they frame it as some revolutionary thing that people get oppressed for when it's really not, I promise if you go outside everything is about men and everyone is obsessed with men. In my city the gay spaces are (despite claiming to be inclusive) only for gay men and every merch item sold and every song played is about dick. Men (with he/him pronouns and an openly declared guy identity) are on women's dating apps and you can't filter them out without paying. Almost nobody understands me when I first come out to them as a lesbian, they have to ask and double check if I really only like women or if I'm actually bi. I promise if you're a woman and like/date men there are like 0.00001 queer spaces where you might get a mean comment about it but UNFORTUNATELY IF YOU'RE A WOMAN WHO ONLY (or currently!) DATES WOMEN THAT IS 99.9999% OF EVERYWHERE 💀 i mean its still nice that those posts exist, its good for people to be able to find community, but i swear to god at some point im going to purge my dash to the point that the only man anyone is allowed to love and cherish in my field of vision is crown prince rudolf of austria. Taaffe is on thin ice xD 😌🤣)

[fenmere]

Things Sunspotians do that might not be familiar to most dominant Earth cultures:

Treat children like full grown adults when it comes to matters of consent and bodily autonomy. If a child doesn't want to do something that they really need to do for their own well being, they will be taught why they should do it, patiently, until they agree to try to do it - or an accommodation that they can agree to can be found. This is no matter the age. Sunspot Children do hatch with the equivalent linguistic and motor functionality of young human toddlers. They learn a lot while in their eggs, and can at least answer most "yes" or "no" questions reasonably well upon hatching. While in their eggs, they can sometimes communicate too, but the need to tend to them and give them decisions outside social interactions such as storytelling is minimal.

Rampant casual nudity. Clothes are works of art first and foremost and not comfortable for everyone.

Gatherings are not centered around food and often do not involve food at all.

Shelter is guaranteed by the world itself, so ones personal quarters or house is considered personal space and the domain of ones own bodily autonomy. Rules of hospitality favor the host, and there is no concept of ever being obliged to give someone shelter. And being given shelter is no great gesture of generosity. It is not needed. "I revoke consent for you to continue visiting me today," is a common and not at all rude thing for someone to say. There are expressions like "Welp!" and a knee slap that mean this. It varies from generation to generation. But you can be direct about it, and it is considered more polite to be explicit and clear with your language.

There is absolutely no ongoing discussion about the differences between monogamy and polyamory. There are no words for either thing. And there is no marriage at all. No political or economic need for it. There are only a myriad of relationships, and none are exclusive by default.

People rarely need community support to do anything, but it's there anyway. People love to gather to work on projects together for the fun of it. But a lone person usually has their Tutor and a load of resources from the ship itself to do what they need to do. Helping someone move, for instance, is not a social obligation to anyone, but will be someone's favorite activity. And if you're moving stuff on your own, someone on the street is likely to offer to help for the sheer joy of it. This goes for nearly everything. If you go to a park and start cooking food, you may eventually find yourself in the middle of an impromptu food cooking festival by the end of the day, unless you say "no" when people ask if they can join you.

There is one school, and anyone can attend it if they want, for however long they want, to participate in the community effort of learning together with an entire city. You can just walk in and start participating in almost any class, with the consent of the other participants (which is usually given). It has no socioeconomic purpose other than collective exploration and learning for all ages.

A person can officially declare that they don't want to participate in the dominant culture (and revoke their consent to a neural terminal and/or their Tutor) and go off to live alone or amongst others who've made the same declaration, and that person will be granted special dispensation for that decision and given more respect in governmental decisions and afforded more social space and forgiveness by the rest of the population. Or, at least, that's what everyone is told by their Tutors. It's not quite as neat and tidy as that, but it is an officially recognized and legally protected act of autonomy by that person. These people have called themselves Monsters. It is always possible to stop being a Monster, but not terribly common. This is a lot like a cross between being a monk and a hobbo, leaning a bit more toward hobbo in culture but monk in official recognition. But, without a neural terminal, it's also an act of eventual suicide, like having a DNR, a significantly shortened lifespan.

Toddlers can often be seen wondering the trams, hallways, streets, and parks of the Sunspot seemingly alone. Because they have their otherwise invisible Tutors with them acting as a parent, guide, and protector. No one blinks or moves to act as surrogate parent for them. It's not needed. They are, however, also treated a lot like adults, asked if they want to participate in things, asked for permission to talk to them or bother them, given right of way according to the same rules, etc.

The youngest person in the room gets to try things and make decisions first if they want, the first refusal of consent. The youngest is the person most commonly addressed as a representative of the group, assumed to be most interested in what is happening. The youngest is the one with the least experience and the most new experiences to have, so they should be given the opportunity to learn about new things, and also to protect themselves and advocate for their own needs. So, when a young toddler walks into a room, they are instantly the VIP.

[superpussyking]

OK SO

Reasons I think jolias is autism: the official list: by superpussyking:

Need for routine and sameness:

-He's overly reliant on scheduling and needs everything to be planned out before taking action

-Struggles to make quick impulsive decisions (related to the scheduling thing)

○Literally panic killed leitner because of this

○That scene when he complains he couldn't get anything better to fuck up Martin's idea of Jon.

•I know the point is that Martin's view of Jon is very skewed and therefore hard to break but like- He has a giant evil eyeball, if he could change plans on the spot this wouldn't be a problem.

-Gets very locked into what he's doing and struggles to switch tasks

○The gang making all of their plans when he's scheduling because it'll be difficult for him to stop what he's doing to check on them

-He's been doing the same job for 200 years with like, no complaints.

-(edit) he's had the same haircut for long enough that it is noticeably old fashioned!

○ see mag 192. Rosie mentions that his old-fashioned haircut doesn't fit this young persons face.

Special intrests:

-He's had the same intense intrest with the supernatural and occult for 200 years. Sir that's not being devoted to your patron thats an autism diagnosis.

○On that note, literally devoted his life to it.

- Is a known collector of things and information and information on things.

Social difficulties and masking:

-He gets so much joy role-playing as a normal ish guy in uppermannagment

-actively makes a game out of masking

○Has fun seeing how far he can push the persona. See Jon's birthday tape.

-overall gamifies socializing

○his relationship with Peter. Literally built weird games with the gambling and power play.

○ It's easy to see him only socializing for a purpose.

-He makes scripts for social interactions

○See every time he's psychologically tortured someone. He always mentions he had it prepared.

○It's implied he does this in more casual settings. Using the eye to get information so he can adjust his persona for the person.

•I just know he giggles and twirls his hair like "tehehe the web loves me"

-Has strained relationships

○Is either uninterested in making friends or can't. Either way we don't hear anything about any personal, non business related, contact he could have with anyone but the lukas' (and even then-)

•also only "friends" with the other autisic coded villian, Peter.

○All of Jonahs OGs boyfriends left him (the ones that didn't die anyway) for getting a little too weird. Literally never made a friend after that. If that isn't evidence for strained relationships idk what is.

-Prefers to do things alone unless it's necessary

-Been described as generally off-putting

-Makes too much eye contact

○see Rosie/og Elias' interviews

-Overly formal but also has his employees call him by his first name

○I think it's more of a power play, but I also think it has to do with an autistic way of interpreting power structures.

○A lot of the rules he sets are more focused on function rather than form. It doesn't matter how something gets done just that it happens. I think this is common for autistic people, considering we tend to do things in strange ways to achieve what other people do.

-People watching is like his whole thing. Every autisic person I know likes people watching

-Dry and inappropriate humor

○See every episode he's in.

○ "You won't be able to claim your expenses if you die." Comedy king.

-Ambiguous sexuality

○This is a headcannon- but you can't deny this man is queer coded.

•I think the spillover behaviors from his og time period makes him a specific kind of gender queer that I can not explain just trust me (or feel free to ignore this)

○Autistic people tend to be more likely to be some flavor of queer and a lot of us fall into the ambiguous spaces

Sensory issues? Possible but unlikely:

-Distaste for the corruption could be interpreted as sensory thing

-I don't think there's any really evidence for sensory issues. He just seems like the type of dude to need all of his shirts to be the exact same or he'd implode.

I wouldn't be surprised if he had them and just masked really heavily though.

Stimming? Yeah I think he could stim a little. As a treat:

-Examples of vocal stims when he refers to people by titles instead of their names

○When Basira asks why he says "Honesty, I just like the way it sounds." Ok 🤨

○Someone in the comments of the og post pointed out the "knock knock"s he does and I think you're so right. Kissing you on the lips. He can torment Jon with his childhood door trauma and make a funny little sound? Genius.

-Could interpret the way he likes to speak and formulate his sentences as a type of stimming as well

○I love talking in riddle-like or overly formal ways. It makes me giggle. For him especially since part of the fun is seeing how far he can push the persona.

-Could also interpret using his powers as a type stim because it feeds his special intrest, or that they might provide him with some other type of sensation that he likes

○You could also interpret making too much eye contact as a type of stimming

○Also he's just a freak

- Overall not much here- if he stims it's likely subtle ones. If he does happen to have obvious stims they'd be hidden.

Over all, I think he's autistic and it was never caught because he's high preforming. He actively enjoyes masking becase thats a part of the social game for him. People like that are usually unrecognized and difficult to diagnose. (Unless you're an autistic freak like me who has a weird hyperfixaion 😎)

Like- this person gets it.

Also he was born before autism was a word that existed. I think that would definitely have something to do with his self perception and why it's not something he'd accept or think is possible for him.

I personally think he's convinced he's neurotypical and if anyone ever told him to his face "I think your autistic" he would crumble into a little puddle.

I tried my best to leave out headcannons (or mark them as headcannon) in this list, but some of them are very intertwined with how I see the character. So it's tricky to pluck out. There's overall little information about his outside life (if he has one) so we can't be too sure.

Exept I'm lying yes I can he's autistic.

I'm just saying Elias Bouchard is autisic but it gets overlooked because a lot of his autisic traits overlap with his evil ones. Also he actively enjoys masking

I made a comprehensive list for every reason I think Elias is autisic and I think that alone should get me an autism diagnosis but that's asides the point. I'm gonna post it later after I clean it up a bit

[bardicbird]

autistic things i think ayda does (because i also do most of them)

- prefers simple foods. if something’s all mixed together she’ll likely just pick stuff out. isn’t there an expression that’s like “eats like a bird” to imply pickiness? not sure.

- picks and pulls at her wings when shes anxious 

- makes lists for basically everything. lists of her friends, lists of her favorite words, questions about social interactions (most likely to ask her friends about later), good sensory feelings, bad sensory feelings. she likely has a loooot of lists from her several lifetimes, and it can be helpful for her to look back on earlier ones

- when she’s physically close to fig, she tends to point out new things she’s noticed about her, out-loud: “did you know there’s is a mole on your collarbone?”, “you have a new scar on your knee…”, etc. it’s sort of her way of expressing how much she cares, by noticing. 

- well… that aaand straight-forwardly beautiful statements about how she feels. it’s often not on purpose, but her sincerity never really… turns off? so a lot of times fig will just kind of be joking around a little or casually talking and then ayda will just drop something like “you are the best thing that has ever happened to me; i fear that every future iteration of my life will pale in comparison to the joy you have brought me in this one” i feel like this happens at least daily in some form or another. 

- has trouble with eye contact in that she will put in a lot of effort to look people in the eyes when they’re talking, and most times forgets to blink so it comes off as strange anyways. but then she can’t make eye contact at all when speaking; she either has to look directly past someone or off in some direction in order to be able to think clearly

- sways back and forth a bit while standing, and has a lot of trouble staying completely still unless she’s experiencing a shutdown

- sometimes when she wakes up her voice just . wont work. and she has to kinda wait a bit until her ability to talk comes back randomly. usually it’s easier to kickstart it when somebody asks her a question about her research, because she is almost alwayyys up to ramble about stuff like that

- feels like she always needs to ask before initiating any physical contact. she knows that some days she doesn’t like to be touched all that much, so she sort of assumes it’s the same for everyone else

- the best sitting/sleeping positions are when she is as compact as possible. maybe it’s something about the pressure, or the security, but being practically folded in on herself is comforting.

[bigskydreaming]

Headcanon that everyone within the family may think of Dick as the one most in their father’s favor, but Dick is keenly aware that the general public thinks of him as their father’s ‘Consolation Prize.’

After all, when from their perspective he’s the one Bruce raised since he was eight as his ward, with that dissolving when he was eighteen and very little perceived contact between the two of them for years after that, while Jason was adopted soon after being taken in and Dick was then later adopted years after Jason’s death, without any public fanfare.....

What does that look like other than Bruce ‘settling’ for the son who didn’t appear to be his first choice, just chronologically first, once he lost Jason but still needed/wanted an heir, as he was getting older and the general public still didn’t know yet how closely tied Tim was to the family or that it wouldn’t be long after this that Bruce adopted him too?

Now granted, you can definitely perceive the above as overly angsty and not the only way this situation was likely to be perceived outside the family, but my point is more that like.....nobody ever presumes that the general public are overly kind or generous in their views or assumptions about the Wayne family behavior. I just don’t buy that people assumed there was some optimistic explanation for the way things appeared here, or that people just went “oh its probably because the kid who grew up in that house the longest just doesn’t WANT to be adopted by the billionaire and have all the security that brings, and that’s also clearly why he lives in Bludhaven of all places and a shitty apartment building at that.”

I mean, no matter what WE the readers may know of Dick’s personal priorities and how little he cares about where he lives or that Bruce would have willingly paid for him to have a better place to live if he really wanted it, is that what people are most likely to assume, based on appearances?

Anyway, I’m just saying, I bet it bugs the crap out of Dick to hear his siblings casually refer to him as so obviously enjoying favored son status and being the clear apple of Bruce’s eye, as he’s like, cue internal monologue: gee, sure wish I was as confident of that back during the years he seemed to want nothing to do with me.

Like I’ve said before, I think Dick isn’t actually super insecure and his insecurities such as they are mostly revolve around how his family and friends perceive him, not the general public.....BUT I do think that with as high profile as the Waynes are, there’s no way that nobody picked up on how little contact Dick and Bruce had in the continuities where they literally went over a year without even speaking to each other....and like, felt free to draw their own conclusions.

 And I do think this is also part of why I default to thinking a lot of canon takes and headcanons tend to gloss over how shitty Gotham public could be in their views/treatment of Dick. Like just because Dick was basically trained from birth to be able to work a room and entertain people while in their direct presence, that didn’t actually make him ‘one of them’ in their eyes, and I reeeeeeaally don’t think you can actually underestimate the pettiness and jealousy one percenters feel when they see someone they inherently view as lesser than them - as they would’ve viewed both Dick and Jason due to their lower class births - like....’leap frogging’ over them into greater wealth via being taken in by Bruce. 

Like, idk, maybe it just comes from having been a scholarship kid who went to a richy rich private high school attended mostly by the children of senators and hotel-chain owners, lol, but like.......I can not for a second picture Gotham’s upper class actually LIKING Dick or being as charmed by him as they frequently are depicted as, just because Dick knows how to be charming and likable. Like they might play it that way when in public at a gala, for appearances or whatever....but the second he turned around they’d be badmouthing him at juuuuust a high enough volume to ensure he’d be able to HEAR them but not be able to call them on it without it looking like he went back and provoked a scene over something ‘nobody else around them heard them say’ or whatever. Just to make sure that no matter how well he came across in public social settings, he never ‘forgot his place’ or whatever or forgot that they were all too aware of it too.

And also also, it always kinda bemuses me that as much focus as the Court of Owls and Talons get in Dick’s narratives in canon and fic, that we’ve barely ever seen any examination of what the Court retroactively means for Dick’s years growing up around upper class Gothamites who likely included more than a few Court members.....like, we KNOW years later that like, all along there were these people who even without knowing who Batman and Robin were, like, knew Dick Grayson was their ‘Gray Son’ and intended to claim him as their weapon someday, and you can’t tell me that wouldn’t have factored into how they viewed and interacted with a child and teenage Dick Grayson as they attended many of the same social gatherings and functions. OR that Dick himself in the aftermath of the Court of Owls reveal, didn’t look back at his OWN childhood and reflect on how many creepy or uncomfortable encounters he had with various socialites that left him feeling decidedly skeeved out and not a fan of how they were looking at him or things they might have said to him, thinking themselves oh so clever for alluding to things he had no idea about......like, I imagine there had to be more than a few encounters from his younger years that always stuck with him, and after the Court of Owls revelation like....looked TOTALLY different to him, especially if he happened to know for sure that some of those very people were in fact Court members. BUT I DIGRESS.

All in all though it all circles back to the same thought for me.....people might have been polite to Dick’s face when he was growing up, but they most likely had plenty of shit to say the second his back was turned, and I doubt they were afraid to be overheard by him. Especially in his later years, once people noticed how distant he and Bruce seemed to be, and thus perceived that as meaning that nineteen year old Dick Grayson wasn’t as ‘protected’ by Bruce the way he was when he was younger.....meaning the people who were most jealous of Dick’s ‘catapulting’ up the social ladder and eager to knock him down a peg because of that, like....probably would have looked at the relative lack of contact between he and Bruce as far as anyone could publicly tell, and felt emboldened enough by that to up their snide whisper game with shit like gossipping about how oh, the Grayson boy may be back in Gotham again, but we all know he’s just poor Brucie’s consolation prize anyway, why, if he really cared all that much about the boy, he’d hardly have ever let him run off to Bludhaven of all places, without even making sure to staple the advantages and opportunities granted by the Wayne name to him the way he made sure to right off the bat with the younger one.....

So yeah. There’s my angsty musings on how Dick likely is perceived by Gotham public at large, and how his interactions with them - especially when NOT around Bruce and Jason and the rest of his family....probably very much does not match up with what they assume public perception of Dick is, given that in their eyes ‘everybody loves Dick Grayson,’ but in Dick’s experience ‘everybody may be charmed by Dick Grayson while he’s doing his best to be charming,’ but don’t mistake that for acceptance. Not when Gotham’s public are just as likely to dismiss him as the second choice Wayne heir and consolation prize to make themselves feel more important/elevated than him the second their own insecurities have them feeling intimidated by the wealth, power and prestige Dick does actually share in by virtue of being part of Bruce’s family.

[in-tua-deep]

Ok I totally want to hear more about this survivors au/Delores is real! How do the siblings handle having this different version of Five? Five may be better adjusted but he still has to heard his family around like a bunch of stray cats. What happens when Hazel and Cha Cha show up? How do they find out that Vanya causes the apocalypse and how does Five handle that revelation?!

here is the thing, i think the survivors au has the potential to be HILARIOUS

no one knows how to handle a well-adjusted five, and this absolutely includes the commission

So you mentioned Hazel and Cha-Cha?? Five in this au was not nearly as absolutely feral as he is in the show bc he knows how to interact with people - he was raised by a competent adult and a weird best friend and they occasionally saw other survivors as well

please picture old Five hanging around the water cooler and chatting with Hazel

the other funny thing is that Five is competent passing - he is well adjusted emotionally but functionally?? Hazel is out there complaining about dental being cut and office parties and budgets and Five is there sipping his drink having never filed taxes in his life. Five doesn't know what the fuck a dental plan is, he was a child soldier and then lived in an apocalypse.

So please picture for me Hazel being like "okay I know corporate wants us to keep what we're being paid to ourselves but fuck that, workers unite, what do you get paid as a legend old timer?"

and five is like "you're getting paid? i get to not get tossed back into the apocalypse, I think"

"but what about expense forms? what about medical care?"

"I'm like 80% sure i'm being experimented on, actually." Five says nonchalantly, "Don't get me wrong, my idea of medical care is fucked by being a child soldier but I'm pretty sure regular people don't have electrodes attached to their heads every time they get a checkup. Could be wrong though! My ex-dad used to monitor my brainwaves while I slept so like, my idea of appropriate shit is fucked, you know?"

This is a Five who was raised by Rick, he is polite to his coworkers. If Dot asked him if he wanted to grab lunch, Five would have gone and grabbed lunch with her or politely said that he couldn't.

Cha Cha only ever talks to Five when she wants to talk shop, so they've had a couple of conversations about weapons but not much else tbh, Hazel just tends to be more personable

So when they're sent after Five, Hazel is much more hesitant to kill who he perceives as a "work friend" and also is definitely thinking about all the times Five casually revealed a way the commission was being highkey shady about him, such as the potential experimentation, no pay, working under duress etc. He's much more easily turned against the commission because he's even more primed to say "fuck the commission" than he is in canon

Hazel out here like "how did Five break his contract when Five wasn't even being paid? I kind of want to read it."

Hazel out here like "I would unionize if I didn't think the commission was anti-union enough to send literal assassins after me if I suggested it :/"

meanwhile with the siblings

Five just. talks over them a lot and makes so much sense that it's actually really hard to argue with him, and he's weirdly considerate of his family's obligations

Like Diego is like "i have to go see Patch" then Five is like "that's great I'm proud of you buddy, it would actually be really handy to have some law enforcement read into the situation if you think she's up to the task. that goes for everyone by the way! If y'all have people you trust, more bodies would be super helpful I think"

the entire family, collectively, who have like zero trusted social links: uhhhhhhhh

Diego, with this weird permission, probably?? Does? Awkwardly attempt to read Patch into the situation? Patch is, obviously, like "what the fuck, Diego" but probably goes with him to the mansion (????????) because she's concerned and then meets his fucking whacko family with their superpowers and suddenly everything is 100% more realistic

Five is just like "yes hello I'm aware I look like a child, i'm actually in my late 50s or early 60s (apocalypse time amiright) because of time travel stuff. Yes I am Five Hargreeves who went missing in like 2002 or whatever. anyway it's lovely to meet you, i'm so glad diego has someone he trusts, and considering my sibling's shifty looks when i told them to invite anyone they trusted this genuinely makes me concerned that Diego is the most socially well-adjusted of them."

"That cannot be possible." Patch says, like someone who has met Diego Hargreeves.

"You haven't met the rest." Five says sympathetically, "In our defense we were raised in isolation as child soldiers."

"That... explains so much." Is all Patch can say to that, "But you seem..."

"I'm adopted." Five waves away.

"We're ALL adopted." Diego grits out, very aggrieved by this and also not sure if he likes the fact that Patch seems friendly with Five, or at least is listening to him?

"I'm double adopted."

However! With the recruitment of Patch, herding Diego becomes like 90% easier.

Honestly the worst to herd are probably Luther and Allison? Luther because he's Number One and resents Five taking charge and also resents Five's casual dismissal of Reginald and also suspects that Five (or at least the commission) has something to do with Reginald's death?

Allison because she is torn between following Luther and helping him and helping Five but also calling Patrick and Claire at every possible moment while ALSO trying to repair her relationship with Vanya. She's flighty - she'd bail on a Five-apocalypse-assignment if Vanya mentioned being hungry or if Luther called or anything like that

Vanya likes to be included and, if asked, would probably drop as many current obligations as she can. Like she would probably cancel her teaching if Five genuinely and sincerely asked her for her help, which he does because he's 100% sure Dolores would manifest in front of him and smack him if he dared even imply someone without powers wouldn't be helpful

Vanya is like "I'm not sure if i'll be helpful - I don't have powers ):" and Patch is like "wtf are you talking about - my superpowers are Gun, Backup, and Reading Comprehension and i am like the most useful member of this team right now"

Vanya gets a confidence boost just from hanging out with Patch honestly, I think they should be friends

Klaus is thrilled to be included are you kidding?? He says he does it for money but he's just happy to be there and also as one of the most emotionally intelligent siblings he is mildly concerned about the fact that Five looks like he's about to cry and also emotes

Five also gives Klaus positive reinforcement, hugs, and Five absolutely weaponizes the I'm not mad, but I believe that you can do better and I'm going to give you more chances because I love you and fully believe that next time you'll be amazing way that Rick used on him.

I feel like Five ends up saying something along the lines of "I understand that x is really important, and we're definitely going to look into it. Is it something that needs to be addressed right now, or is it something that can wait until after April 1st? If it can wait, I can write it down here on this list so we don't forget. If it can't wait then we can figure out a time to address it and help you" a lot

Like Grace malfunctioning and potentially killing Reginald?

"We don't have to make this decision right now." Five says patiently, "Because Grace is a robot, we have some options. Living with a robot who is potentially malfunctioning and homicidal is dangerous, but Luther saying that means admitting that Reginald might have made a mistake or error with Grace's programming or upkeep. I haven't been here for a long time, but I remember Reginald being very precise. Regardless, this isn't a choice between permanently shutting her off or not. We can shut her down temporarily until we can fully address the issue. We can ask and see if there is a 'system reboot' option or some sort of system check that Grace can undergo. We can try find and hire an expert to take a look at her programming to find the issue."

Five gives this speech while like, organizing the weaponry in the house on a table very nonchalantly

Five out here making buzzer noises at his siblings arguments like "yeah no that's a false dichotomy and a strawman's argument, want to try again?"

(Look apocalypse nights were long and they had games that were literally about arguing pointless shit like ranking types of chairs or the best way to break out of a prison without powers and things could get heated)

"Who died and made you boss?" Luther demands.

"Uh, the world? Were you not listening?" Five asks, looking very purposefully confused.

It gets even MORE delightful when Five reads Rick into the situation because a) he promised and b) his siblings really have like, no connections jeeze

Rick fully believes that this is his son from the future, like Five introduced himself, but Five skipped out on a few key details. Such as being adopted.

So Rick spends a solid chunk of time just staring at Five, who looks basically nothing like him, trying to think like, who is his mother ???? if we save the world will Five stop existing? why would I name my child 'Five'? Does everyone have powers in the future? was there like... a radioactive apocalypse? would radiation give future humans superpowers? when did my life turn into a comic book? am i even allowed to ask these questions? will knowledge of the future fuck things up?

and then when Five comes back and is like "what is up everyone this is my dad Rick who will be joining us, he doesn't have any memories of me thanks to time travel but if anyone is mean to him i WILL kneecap them"

"Your DAD?"

Five does kidney punch Klaus for saying that Rick is a DILF but otherwise everyone just is like, warily looking at this Normal Dad Man in confusion because?? This is the dude who raised Five, who they watched take out like an entire commission team by himself yesterday? He looks so. Normal.

Rick is very confused and like, wonders if he's supposed to be the team mascot? But Five keeps involving him and asking his opinion and in return Rick enforces snack breaks and makes everyone sandwiches and has gentle talks with everyone

Every time Five notices someone about to blow he just lovingly makes sure that that person is alone in a room with Rick

Luther ends up crying on the sofa with Rick gently patting his back as Rick calmly states that Luther seems like he's put a lot of time and effort into his family and making his father proud and that since Reginald isn't here to say it, Rick will have to be the one to say that he's proud and that they've been dropped into a difficult and stressful situation - so soon after Reginald's death when they're still grieving! - and he's doing so well

Luther, experiencing unconditional positive paternal regard for the first time in his life: i don't know why i'm crying so much

honestly this is just a comedy of juggling the gang, having impromptu therapy sessions and discussions, investigating the apocalypse and the eye, leonard trying to meet vanya continuously and failing because she's constantly surrounding by family or rick/patch, the commission trying their best to bust up the dream team/isolate Vanya/kill or remove Five, while Hazel lives out his romcom dreams with Agnes and also says "fuck the commission"

[vinnival]

Howdy friend! Could I get a funky madcom matchup, and if request are closed, ignore this! (I'm on mobile 24/7, so I'm never super sure) I'm 4'11 with dark brown eyes and hair and a baby face. I've got dreadlocks that go a little past mid back and I wear prescription sports goggles instead of normal glasses

Agender, aroace that usually uses he/they/it, but I'm fine with any

I've got a metric shitton of mental illness, so my mental state is Wack™, but I'll point out my Autism and ADHD since those affect me the most (socially and emotionally) Paradoxical is the best word to describe me since I can go from feral gremlin to so-quiet-you-forget-Im-there. I can be blunt and straight forward with my words (especially with affection, I'll casually say something real heartfelt and sincere with the same tone as someone talking about the weather) Ive also got a trash sense of humor and will basically laugh at anything (ive memorized so many memes, shitposts, and copypastas just for the sake of a joke)

I embrace being a smol since I've got access to ALL the hiding spots, and I'm often underestimated so it's always fun messing with people ( ･ิω･ิ)✧  Somewhat book smart, the sciences, maths, and engineering are my favored subjects. Mostly a big psychology and astronomy nerd and really big into art. The world is my canvas, and if something can be drawn on, it WILL be drawn on. I have questionable eating habits (forgetting to eat is a problem of mine so I always have snacks on me, and I tend to eat things I really shouldnt; Ex. Chalk). I use chewlery a lot otherwise I end up eating my fingers and lips (╥w╥)

Food is important to me, so I can be a lil aggressive when it comes to waste and the following food law (i.e. dont eat what isnt yours). Food agression is Real™ in me, so trying to interact with me while I'm eating or cooking isnt advised (I WILL BITE)

Basically a cat: super flexible, kinda do my own thing, and when it comes to affection, headbutts, rubs, bites and/or licks are my main forms of expression. (Tho, there are times where I'll just, randomly stop what I'm doing, say "Hey, look at me", and when attention is achieved, make a heart with my hands, softly say "I love you", then continue whatever I was doing like nothing happened. When the nyoomies randomly hit, VolumeControl.exe stops working properly and I always feel bad when I get too loud. I usually stim by pacing around while talking/singing to myself, make random noises (mostly beep, meow, trill, etc.,) and also hand flappy! I mirror things alot, so if I interact with someone long enough, I'll subconsciously start mimicking them and their habits (mostly verbal quirks and accents, but physical quirks too sometimes).

(Thank you for filling this out, if you do anyways, and I am so sorry if this was too long (｡•́ - •̀｡))

OP I goddamn adore you !!! I can probably pick you up with how short you are (/lh) and just hug the heck outta ya if you wanted !! Enjoy <3

You got a match! You're matched with...

Hank!

:D

You were rescuing a litter of kittens and their mom from under a destroyed home, minding your business

When you got the litter out, the mother followed

They even all very grateful to you, even responding to your stimming by meowing themselves

Hank heard the commotion, and well, who wouldn't be curious about a bunch of meowing nearby?

Hank want pet cat too

He was surprised to see you there

He approached cautiously, then you noticed him

You started feeling awkward, but through his goggles, Hank attempted to display as much gentleness as he could muster- being the man he is, though, wasn't gonna make that easy dkdjf

You were still kind of nervous, but when they pointed to the mother cat snuggled into your arms, you understood, and handed the cat over

She was a little confused on why she was being transferred but she looked as comfortable as ever in Hank's arms

You noticed he, too, was doing the hand flaps you always do (while holding a cat too!) and was 100% more interested about him

You began to hold light conversation with him

He didn't like talking much, you noted, so you decided to just avoid talking unless you absolutely needed to know something

You offered to take the cats back to your place, and he nodded

He helped you carry the mother back while you had the litter :]

And after that, Hank periodically checked up on the cats (he later admitted he also wanted to see you too!)

They were just beginning to eat hard food when he offered to take the cats under his wing

"I'll get a lot more supplies quicker than you could. No offense," he would say

You didn't mind, but you made an offer: if he were to take the cats, he was gonna take YOU too

he agreed !!!

Deimos and Sanford love the kitties, naming them all AWWW

Off topic from the matchup but Deimos definitely named one of them Little Guy Deimos and Sanford playfully smacked him over the head for it

You get fiercely strict about the food, explaining your reasoning helped the others warm up to you and your lifestyle a bit better

You and Hank talk a lot about science, and psychology

He noticed you acting a lot like the cats you all owned, and he thinks its so cute

You mentioned how you would use just about anything to draw on one time

A couple of days later on a supply run, he came back with cat food and a sketchbook with some charcoal pencils

"There wasn't much at the old store, this was all I could find"

You still appreciated him for it!

This mf watched you almost eat poison ivy (you were spaced out, just walking around outside)

He had to YELL. he wasn't used to yelling but it caught your attention so 👍

You always feel like you're annoying him when you ask for attention, but he doesn't mind it at all- in fact... he actually likes giving you attention :>

Honestly he loves that you're so cat-like, have i mentioned that?

He'd find you in random small places around the house and would be concerned for your posture with how you fit in the spaces

You sometimes tell Hank about cool astronomy stuff and he's just like. Whoa space !

You and him just click so well and understand each other so well, and the cats you had really tied it all together in a cute friendly little bundle of happy

Hell yeah OP!! Sorry this took a hot minute to write, I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless :3

[violentviolette]

I know a lot of people say “masking” is corny or whatever in the cluster b community but I still want some helpful tips. I find that I push people away easily with being too blunt and verbally aggressive, I always have to tell it as it is. It doesn’t help me get forward and get by at work and with people. I’d appreciate any “masking” tip you can share, thanks.

akshakajdjsj "masking is corny" what is wrong with ppl truly

I dont understand a lot of what ppl are talking about when they talk about masking because like, they really dont know what it means and some ppl say masking when they mean not being an active dickhole

but anyway masking can be a really useful tool and while it definitely is exaughsting long term and u shouldn't have to mask around ppl ur close to we all also gotta survive capitalism and interact with our coworkers and acquaintances and like, the dude at the deli counter.

honestly the biggest thing to make it easier is knowing that no one (that u know casually this doesnt apply to partners and close friends) wants ur opinion, genuinely. even if they say they do they dont want that from someone they dont know intimately. no one wants u to say what u really feel or the hard truth or the blunt reality. volunteer as little information and give as little of ur actual thoughts as possible. be polite and agreeable because thats what most ppl are expecting in 90% of casual social interactions

me masking is extreamly well liked irl and I do well at jobs because I literally just smile, nod, laugh where appropriate and tell ppl what it is they clearly want to hear. I dont add my thoughts of volunteer info or give suggestions, even if I know or think itll help. I just let ppl talk and give some basic responses so they feel heard and thats it

also I tend to focus on tone and expression in order to do this. I practiced having a more friendly nuetral expression (corners of mouth turned up instead of down, eyes softer but still paying attention to something, I usually to for ppls nose or chin since it looks like I'm looking at thier face) and some small smiles and friendly sounding laughs. I also make my voice a bit higher because ppl read that as friendlier. and when I say practiced I do mean that literally, sit in front of a mirror and make different faces and nods and laughs and see what feels the most natural and friendly. I practice expressions often to get my face muscles used to the motions and make it easier and more natural

also filler, small laughs, nods, expressions or other little side things to show ur engaged in a conversation. filler also helps if u struggle with tone, adding casual speech habits like "like, um, u know, right" ect tends to set ppl more at ease because it gives more casual vibe and makes u seem less harsh or confrontational

adding "u know what I mean?" or "if that makes sense?" to the end of a more blunt statement helps it feel less aggressive and more like u just sharing ur thoughts and makes the other person feel less targeted and more like ur having a conversation

I hope that helps lemme know if u want any more specific ones or anything. I honestly have a lot of tips cause I know way too much about human behavior and social interactions and I need to do something with my degree lmfaooo

[sw4tch]

In a complete ironic twist of destiny, the “redditor vibes” guy in my office might have a crush on me.

Once more, my complete magnetic and raw they/them charm has backfired on me

layers of irony aside, it really does fucking Suck. I haven’t been able to write down my thoughts about it because the first moment I realized it, it actually pissed me off a lot lmfao

like, don’t fucking even DARE look at me dude lol. lmao. lol. how DARE YOU interpret me with your incorrect idea of me and get a crush on that. lol.

Ok, so, here comes my tale of woes and grievances.

First off, to be completely fair (and balanced)- He. He is okay i guess. He’s an okay guy. A bit loud and annoying but he’s not. I guess actively an Asshole.

Which really, that’s gotta count for something.

Also when he’s trying to be friendly, well, he is indeed friendly and fun to listen talk to. He buys me sweet bread sometimes.

That’s it.

But he’s also the kind of guy that says “ugh sjws always ruin shit” and sometimes lets slide a “casual” rape joke escape from his mouth

and also sometimes tells me that “oh women could just report anyone about inappropriate behaviors” when he tries to hug me? Like. Like the implication here is that you think i’m gonna report you just for shits and giggles and, after such a “normal” interaction too so like. wtf? Are you threatening me? WHY do you feel the need to let that comment out of your mouth. what the hell.

Anyway, those little behaviors of his have made me lowkey, kinda, uhhhh, unnerved by him as a person.

Must clarify that must of the time, he’s an okay guy ok??? He’s fine and also apparently might have autism (he’s said so himself) so maybe those weird behaviors might be you know, smth smth missing social clues or whatever. I’m trying to sound apologetic over my description of him bcus for real, he’s just a common Guy(tm).

I cannot tell you how much he’s just loud and annoying but ultimately he’s fine, I believe. Like, the bar is on hell so he could be worse but he’s not and he’s good intentioned most of the time so, u get what i’m trying to say?

Sigh.

Anyway.

My worksona is a cis-woman who’s quiet but positive and very friendly most of the time. So, really, i’m trying to be smiley and “”“cute””” and not a downer while working at the office.

Because that’s what professionals do, make worksonas (lol).

So, it turns out this guy loves to talk (I would call it mansplain but I feel in this case it’s a mean-spirited reading of him). But most people, i feel, lowkey find him annoying and try to shut him up.

But when he talks to me to make casual conversation, well, I just listen and let him talk and sometimes make relevant comments. And then I try to leave because man does he like to talk and I have work to do.

And since we tend to be one of the first few people to arrive at the office, that’s when we tend to talk.

And I guess he appreciated that someone would actually listen to him and not try to shut him down.

He started calling me “cute” and “sweet”.

And he started hugging me more, even though I do not like it (in his defense, I have not told him I don’t like it when HE specifically hugs me, but, ehhhhhh, i dont wanna have that conversation).

And that’s what it boils down to basically.

I don’t wanna reject him and tell him outright I don’t like his affections towards me. Because I don’t want him to possibly turn aggressive on me, or just u know, make things awkward in the office.

But anyway. That’s not my biggest beef with this whole thing.

The thing that really PISSED ME OFF is that he dared get a crush on the fucking stupid worksona I created. He loves a cis-woman who’s meek and will listen to him talk and that’s it. DOES HE EVEN KNOW ME??? HE DOES NOT.

He likes the idea of the me that exists on his head and I despise That. Besides, what the hell am I supposed to do now??? How THE FUCK do you reject someone that technically hasn’t told you anything, and also technically you’re on friendly terms with???

I just.

Thanks! I hate it! We can’t even have normal dnd conversations because you have insisted on having your character have a crush on my character!!! Stop that!!! And yet.

Here’s the real kicker folks. The real irony of the whole thing.

He might be the only one in the office that enjoys talking to me, and actively tries to talk to me. (Besides my roomie bestie, of course). So like, what do I even do with that. I guess that’s why I also don’t want to reject him. He’s the one person actively trying to interact with me. I like making silly comics about our dnd characters interacting, because his character is the only one that actually interacts with mine. I like talking about my character too.

I like having a new friend I know I’m not annoying to, i guess.

Isn’t that pathetic folks. I’m lonely and I want to be liked by everyone. I just don’t want him to hate me but then again.

Am I not disrespecting myself by ignoring my own boundaries and needs?

What do you need, snaily? I need for him to BACK OFF and stop hugging me.

No matter how attention starved you are, you need to realize this trainwreck is not stopping because you’re the conductor. You’re still on the rails. Stop it before it crashes and burns. Grow up! Grow a spine! Have difficult conversations! Respect yourself, man! You have to stop being a people pleaser! You will never be free like that! Sigh. My only mental comfort right now? Saeran would have kicked his ass already.

[adamsvanrhijn]

not to be very annoying, but do you happen to know any good books/resources about lgbt slang/identities in victorian/edwardian/etc england? (i mean, things such as lesbians calling each other "toms" and the like). don't worry if you don't know any, but i just figured i'd ask since this was kinda in your Area Of Interest so you might know some off the top of your head.

the not annoying at all but this is a more complex question than at first glance hahaha

TL;DR: there are many types of queer language / we have way more info about men, who have their own lexicon / this era is widely seen as the era in which the concept of identity is actually coming into play / books list at the end, scroll down til you reach bolded text if you don’t want my commentary.

so when you’re looking at mid 19th - interwar lgbt communities, whether in europe or the uk or the usa it doesn’t really matter bc this is quite universal, you’ve got at least three registers, for lack of an easier word:

how self-identified homosexual, inverted, queer, abnormal etc men (henceforth gay men) speak with each other

how self-identified “” women (henceforth lesbian women) speak with each other

interactions between these groups

these naturally intersect with other socioeconomic class factors.

back to england specifically:

despite legal considerations gay men have the most agency and ability to move around and therefore are more likely to interact with each other and form communities. so now you have additional registers:

upper middle / upper class

middle / lower middle / working class (more registers here but nobody asked me and i promise i will give you recs soon)

again, interactions between them

the latter category has limited applications; most of them have to do with prostitution or casual sex and tend to be about categorizing people in terms of what sex acts they participate in. (this is universally true of most forms of gay slang and/or their origins for obvious reasons) think locker room talk. OR, we’re looking at cross class relationships and how other people view members of cross class relationships. not to generalize bc there are other things than this but what is best documented here is the upper class pov of these interactions

for the first category there is much less slang & unique community language, when you look at letters and works of literature etc etc people are picking and choosing from both medical/psychiatric terminology, which is developing rapidly from the 1860s on, and like, classical works; you get a lot of alluding to things. artistic communities (bloomsbury group, natalie clifford barney’s harem in paris and what have you) meanwhile are sort of all over the map. but bc this isn’t Polite Society talk, most of the sources for this kind of language tend to be limited in scope. which is true for all subculture language really but like in this case, authors of the day who are writing what they know are we think giving a pretty accurate picture of what their actual communities were like... but it’s put through a filter for publication.

by the 20th century urban working class gay men in certain circles are using polari, a subcultural lexicon which came from mid/late 19th century theatre and music hall slang, which came from fairground cant, seafaring , labor slang, Yiddish, cockney, theatre slang, fishmarkets, French, Italian, underground crime rings literally i could go on and there’s lots of debate about this. it’s turn of the century when it comes to be used very widely within the gay community, and while its origins are in london it made it to other uk urban centres fairly quickly. this lasted well into the latter half of the 20th century and is the base for a lot of community slang today, which leads me to

lesbian women, who also used polari, albeit to a lesser extent. these were primarily lesbians who were also in the 3rd camp above - ones who are involved in the community and interacting w/ gay men regularly. (”straight women who work in theatre” is another category of woman polari speakers haha but performance slang went thru many changes and eventually things got p separate so you had fairground & theatre cant and gay subculture slang having similar roots but very distinct in usage)

for lesbian communities the same thing as w gay men applies for the upper classes just to a lesser degree due to the relative lack of a community experienced by women

but a very important point here is that, ESPECIALLY during the victorian period, less so moving into the 20th century, intimate relationships between women are viewed very, very differently than those between men - male relationships have hard and fast boundaries of what is and isnt acceptable, those of women do not. 

the development of identity w/ sexuality for women i think in many ways had a lot more to do with women who expressed their gender differently than women who had intimate exclusive relationships w/ other women 

anyway the point is there unfortunately is no like comprehensive text for All Queer Language at this point in time, nor for the development of sexual identity, and the nature of this field (linguistics + history + sociology about queer stuff) means that a lot of the good work is in academic articles which i do NOT know off the top of my head. :-( but here’s some stuff !!

LIST OF THE ACTUAL BOOKS SORRY ABOUT ALL THAT

ok so these are all nonfiction, mostly academic nonfiction, but i want to stress that contemporary literature is a REALLY good way to get a (often rose tinted but not always) look into subculture and there are many novels that play with and/or poke at the ongoing development of sexual identity, especially in edwardia, especially especially in the 1920s, so if youve got endless time to read on your hands it is absolutely worth poking around there.

i have a list in the works of 1920s literature that has lgbt stuff in it and i realise thats a bit late for you but even so!!

also: compilations of letters, memoirs, etc are like super super invaluable 

anyway ive bolded the most important ones:

Kosofsky Sedgwick, Eve. Epistemology of the Closet. 1990. University of California Press. [required lgbt theory reading, literally the foundation for soooo much]

Marcus, Sharon. Between Women: Friendship, Desire, and Marriage in Victorian England. 2007. Princeton University Press.

Robb, Graham. Strangers: Homosexual Love in the Nineteenth Century. 2003. [this is like, functionally prerequisite reading for any gay male stuff for the 19th century & robb is an excellent popular historian who also has an actual academic background]

Rupp, Leila J. Sapphistries: A Global History of Love between Women. 2008. NYU Press.

Russett, Cynthia. Sexual Science: The Victorian Construction of Womanhood. 1989. Harvard University Press. [touches on things but is not About sexuality/identity]

these are both already on my downton abbey research list but they both discuss language thruout and identity very thoroughly:

Brady, Sean. Masculinity and Male Homosexuality in Britain, 1861-1913. 2005. Palgrave Macmillan.

David, Hugh. On Queer Street: A Social History of British Homosexuality 1895-1995. 1997. HarperCollins.

for polari, see basically everything paul baker’s done. the 2019 might be the most accessible but i havent read it yet:

Baker, Paul. Fantabulosa: A dictionary of Polari & gay slang. 2002. London: Continuum.

Baker, Paul. Polari: The Lost Language of Gay Men (Routledge Studies in Linguistics). 2002. London: Routledge.

Baker, Paul. Fantabulosa! The Story of Polari, Britain’s Secret Gay Language. 2019. London: Reaktion.

while it predates the era youre asking about, this book is good reading that leads up to the changes of the victorian era in sexual morality & how that affects identity and language:

Donoghue, Emma. Passions Between Women: British Lesbian Culture 1668–1801. 1995. HarperCollins.

also i hate to do this but like. foucault lol. obviously not focused on britain but very much focused on the development of identity and sexuality. 

ive been working on this for like three straight hours im gonna go eat lunch now

[superborb]

TTFeb: Balancing time on the internet

cortue prompted: Thoughts about "balancing" the amount of time spent on the internet during isolation tl;dr, I don't tend to think of time on the internet as differently allocable than other time. I think there are obviously modes of human interaction that are not well replicable on the internet: casual interactions tend to be a lot more superficial without body language, and it's much more difficult to have the large group splitting into smaller conversations experience with any of the existing platforms. While you might split off a thread or get distracted with another platform, this drops any other conversations in an opaque way. Meanwhile, there are modes of interaction that are better done on the internet: updating all your friends at once, staying in contact with acquaintances you don't see regularly, and of course, meeting people who you normally wouldn't have met (e.g. in fandom). All of those kinds of socializations and like, chatting with friends in general, I don't really feel bad about "wasting time on," because I definitely by default spend less time on it than would be optimal for my socialization meter? I'm sure this is not true for everyone, but I am (and have always been) less inclined to reach out and maintain friendships that I /know/ I would enjoy and be happy doing. So if socializing on the internet lowers that barrier, I'm all for it. I also heavily curate my various social media and will unfollow people readily if it doesn't seem like following through that platform feels social, which is, of course, not a judgment on anyone's use of a platform for their own needs. If a person is more non-socialization informational stuff, I prefer to subscribe through my RSS reader, to better separate those streams. (And obviously all of that is fuzzy choices.) In non-social uses of the internet, the aforementioned RSS reader is where I get most of my news. It turns out, interesting and informative feeds are so difficult to find that I rarely worry I spend too much time there. It helps that it's easy to flick through after reading a title if it's not a subject I care about at that moment, and that it's super asynchronous and can wait until I have time. There is /one/ part of the internet I know I'm in trouble when I start lapsing into, and I try to avoid, which can be summed up as "low quality, I just want to read anything." But it's not exactly something I want to balance, as it's usually a sign I'm depressed. This is if I'm reading fics on AO3 that I don't even find compelling, but are words I can stuff into my eyeballs, or if I've fallen into the depths of YCombinator Hacker News or Reddit. I guess other people doomscroll, but I don't have social media feeds that are deep enough for me to do that? At the beginning of isolation, I was totally in that mode for MDZS fics; I was reassuring bf that this was total normal behavior for me, but it... was normal /depression/ behavior. Anyway, that's time badly spent. So I suppose it's not really that I think all time spent on the internet doesn't need balancing, but that I want to spend my time on things that are enriching, and if I'm filling those needs on or off the internet, it doesn't matter which? Not all needs can be filled on the internet, but for example, I'm just as happy to read books on the internet as off. Back to masterlist

[dannyphantom-rewrite]

Character ref for; Jack, Maddie and Jazz,

Art by @gally-hin / @gally-hin-phantom

Okay so first off; in terms of Actual redesign, I didn't change a whole lot. I'm actually very fond of Jack and Maddie's design's, my only real issue was with their proportions. Like...look as a lady person who is also thiCC I do not have a fucking wasp thin waist and I'm sure I'm not the only one, lmao. As for Jack? Godamnit he looked like a brick on toothpicks. Just Let him be a fucking Bara man! Anyway of course I asked Gally to do this one bc they're fucking great at drawing different body types

I also cannot and will not take credit for Jazz's outfit. I didn't have any issue with her canon clothes aside from them being a bit plain, so what she's wearing here was literally pulled straight off of her original concept art, which I will link here.

Anyway, getting to the Actual character lore now, let's start with

Maddie Fenton

-Full name is Madeline (I haven't decided on a maiden name yet)

-Born and raised on a farm in Arkansas, had a southern accent that she trained herself out of in college bc it was just one more reason for people not to take her seriously. Still sometimes uses "y'all" completely unironically bc old habits die hard.

-She has a really big family, and they're proud of her accomplishments but feel like she's wasting her talent studying ghosts, because really, up until the Fenton portal was up and running there wasn't even any solid proof they existed. Her sister Alicia is the one outlier there, and even if she doesn't understand, it she completely supports her.

-She majored in engineering and minored in psychology at Wisconsin EDU. Her, Jack and Vlad were all in the same engineering class, and that's where they met.

-Maddie is particularly interested in how ghosts think, analysing their behavior, their motives. Not only that, but they aren't just dead people with unfinished business, they've built an entire culture in the Ghost Zone that is completely seperate from humanity, and she wants to understand all of it.

-skilled marksman and 9th degree black belt, (which is. The highest fucking level there is holy shit? I looked it up after I saw it on her wiki page.)

Jack Fenton

-He's from Minnesota (Amity park is in Illinois and him and Maddie didn't move there until after they got married) 

-okay, "but why minnesota specifically" you ask? Because. I crave. Foot ball discourse. 

-minnesota vikings vs green bay packers guys do you UNDERSTAND WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS 

-The funny thing is that Jack only watches football casually while Vlad is a fucking die hard so when these two got together to see a game it was like....

-Jack: Here to chill and have a good time.

-Vlad: Primed and ready to start a fist fight at any given moment.

-I am never not going to be salty about how Canon Jack was portrayed like a complete moron 99% percent of the time. Like no...theres a difference between Actual Stupid and ADHD induced dumbass-ery.

-Am I saying Jack Fenton has ADHD? Yes. why? Because I also have ADHD and I have always vibed So Hard with his Character.

-Jack is loud and easily excited about things that interest him. He's impulsive and fidgety and yeah, a bit absent minded. He has a mouth that clearly runs so much faster than his head. His train of thought doesn't get derailed so much as it stops and takes several different detours on the way to it's final destination.

-and that's only the tip of the iceberg, really, I'd need an entire essay to get into this completely, but I just really relate.

-Jacks skill-set / interests regarding ghosts vary a bit from Maddie's, most notably in the sense that he doesn't believe that they're static entities already set in their ways, completely incapable of change.

-Jack majored in engineering and minored in Biology at Wisconsin EDU.

-Jack's work with tech is a bit hit or miss. He definitely HAS the engineering skills, but the intrest isn't always there and he's constantly jumping back and forth between different projects. He tends to focus on the concept work and schematics and leave most of the assembly to Maddie as a result. It's an arrangement that works well for them, and has drastically decreased the number of unintentional explosions in the lab.

-A lot of Jack's work tends to revolve around ghostly biology and Ectoplasm, figuring out how ghosts are made, what makes them tick, what the hell Ectoplasm Actually Is, how it's used as an energy source, ect.

-and yes, that does also mean he handles the dissections.

-See that facial scar? Yeah, that's not actually there at the start of the series rewrite but it's very important for plot reasons so I had to include it. Can't say much more on the subject because SPOILERs owo.

Jasmine Fenton

-Jazz is a 18 years old, and a senior at Casper high.

-Which means she prepping to go away to college and won't be around to keep an eye on Danny.

-Obviously that doesn't mean I'm just writing her out of the story, oh no. Know why? Because she's also gonna go to Wisconsin EDU. ya know who else is in Wisconsin? Fuckin' Vlad.

-Jazz is autistic, Although she passes for neurotypical in part due to symptoms being completely over looked in girls due to gender stereotyping and also the fact that she doesn't have any special interests that are considered " "too weird.""

- Her hyperfixation with psychology started at a young age in an effort to better understand people, and social/emotional cues and all that.

-Jazz is well liked at school but she's not popular or apart of any specific group or clique. She's very kind and compassionate to people, and just about everyone knows her, but you'd be hard pressed to find someone who actually Considered her a friend. Except maybe Spike.

-I'm gonna have to give spike his own Character ref at some point, but he's this scary looking goth kid that's been held back twice. He's actually super sweet, just really fuckin' quiet and anxious. Him and jazz kinda ended up gravitating towards each other. She might do most of the talking, but they look out for each other.

-its not like jazz doesn't try to socialize, but it's difficult and she's found it much easier and less stressful to just. Keep to herself and let her interactions with her peers stay shallow and superficial. Sure, it's lonely sometimes but it's better than constantly worrying about saying the wrong thing or making some other misstep.

-One of Jazz's other special interests is football, and it's not so much the players or the game as it is the strategy of it? Started out as one of those things you do to bond with your dad, and she ended up getting really into it.

-She absolutley winds up getting into stupidly intense discussions with Vlad about it, too, lmao.

-Her and Danny probably bonded over SBNation bc that shit has both sentient satellites and ridiculously complex football mechanics.

-She's completely oblivious to the fact, but Dash has a massive crush on her bc holy shit this girl understands football (hey bud your toxic masculinity is showing put that shit away)

-I mentioned that Danny was in Cheer for a bit in middle school so it makes sense that she'd also be pushed into doing some kind of extracurricular activity.....so.....she was in a martial arts class for a bit thanks to Maddie and has a good grasp on self defense.

I think that's everything? I feel like I'm leaving things out tho? Idk if I did I'll come back and add on to this later and also pls don't hesitate to ask questions bc it really helps me flesh things out better.

[electro-kins]

REQUESTS ARE OPEN LETS GOOOOO

Could I get a kin matchup for Genshin, IDV and TBHK? :0

I'm a Girl, 5'1 (I know I'm short shush), ISFP-T, and my signs are Sun-Gemini/ Moon-Pisces/ Rising-Capricorn!

I'm suspected to have ADD/ADHD, but I haven't had a diagnosis yet so I can't say for certain!

Starting off with appearance related stuff:

I'm short of course- I usually have shoulder-long, wavey/curly(ish) black hair that always seems to just be super wild for some reason, I'm a bit chubby! I prefer casual clothes because mmm I don't like being fancy and standing out,,

Ok enough of that!! It's time to get into the real deal and that's my personality ✨

I'm very different depending on where I am actually!

IRL/with strangers (or in school) I act more like a loner. I'm pretty reclusive actually- I do not like being social IRL at all like,, seriously I hate interaction there because I just feel super awkward and aaaaagh- but I like typing out and writing stuff to communicate! It's a lot easier than tryna talk since I tend to stutter

But online/With my friends I'm very different! I'm a lot happier and comfortable too since I really appreciate my friends.

I'm also super chaotic- I joke around a lot and love to tease my friends! ESPECIALLY on their spelling mistakes- as long as they're comfy with it of course!! But uhh; sometimes if they write a plea to stop in a way that I understand it as a joke I might not stop until I realize;; I'm still super sorryy

And talking about that!! I have a dumbass problem with overwhelming guilt so I tend to blame things on myself and feel super bad about it even after reassurance :(

So anyway!!

As I said before, I really love my friends, so I'm super caring about them! — to a fault.

I may go to extreme lengths as to like maybe uhh- ignore someone till they go to sleep, etc.

But I'm learning to be a bit more easy-going with that!!

And some more general stuff:

I'm super impulsive, an equally impulsive spender, easily distracted, and I tend to space out a lot!

I really love to draw and I've been doing so for 11 years! Mostly self-taught!

I also really really like music, especially certain video game music, jazz and swing! Im not the biggest fan of remixes!!

Of course, video games can't be excluded from my hobbies! I'm currently in love with, of course, genshin, Horror RPG Games and Rhythm games! I rather play Singleplayer since multiplayer is stressful-

Uhhh yeah I think that's about it- I'm so sorry for making this ask really long!! Please stay safe and take your time! :D

you kin...

CHONGYUN, MITSUBA AND LUCA!!

hihiii thanks so much for the request <33 when it comes to similarities in appearence, mitsuba and luca both have shoulder length hair!! all of these characters would love socializing online and feel more comfortable there than in person, where it feels awkward to them. when they're with people who they're comfy with, they're chaotic and joke around a bunch!! they'd share the same hobbies as you and (๑>◡<๑) would be easily distracted, sometimes impulsive and space out often. i hope you're happy with the result!!

[arr-jim-lad]

so, why /is/ Joshu good actually and doesn't deserve all the hate he gets?

Because the hate comes mostly from the people who are incapable of empathizing with what’s honestly a really pitiable person. They only see the negatives and don’t question why he acts like he does. Also, he’s brave AF.

And don’t get me wrong: there ARE negatives. Joshu is by no means a completely misunderstood good person, he’s kind of a scumbag, but so are most JoJo characters. And yet, people apparently just love to hate Joshu specifically.

When I started reading Jojolion, I initially couldn’t help but just feel bad for the guy, because I realized what he struggles with, and how it affects him as a person who’s honestly just trying his best most of the time.

Here’s the big thing that I think puts a LOT in perspective:

Joshu is essentially the prime example of the neglected middle child. He has an older brother who is his father’s pride and joy, an older sister who is a successful model, and a younger, blind sister who everyone coddles. Norisuke is very loving and playful with his daughters and very chummy with his older son, but Joshu never really gets the same loving treatment.

Instead, Joshu is seen treated sternly and unfairly by his brother and father, who both just seem annoyed by his presence. It’s very, painfully clear to me that this is something that makes Joshu extremely insecure, as it can be easily observed from his facial expressions. For example, here’s him when Josuke is given his usual space on family photographs;

He’s shown shivering when Norisuke yells at him, and standing next to his father clearly means a lot to him, but his feelings are not taken into account at all.

This clearly causes him a lot of stress, as he is already insecure about his position in the family, and it makes PERFECT SENSE for him to feel threatened by Josuke, who immediately gained his father’s love, respect, and support. 

This kind of behavior towards Joshu is seen again during the beetle battle arc with Jobin, who belittles him several times in a short amount of time, and orders him to cheer for Josuke (threatening him with violence if he won’t), despite Joshu clearly not liking Josuke for reasons that I really can’t judge him for.

And Joshu always obliges.

Mind you - this is not the behavior they have towards Joshu ALL the time, but Joshu is the only Higashikata kid we see getting this kind of treatment.

Joshu, to me, comes across as someone who is absolutely starved for validation from his brother and father, but he never gets it. Instead, he’s constantly pushed around and belittled by them, and treated as an annoyance. A stranger in their home is being given more care and respect than the son.

It just felt really really hard to me to watch what I feel was sadly a fairly realistic depiction of how some children in larger families just don’t get the same amount of love and support as others.

Okay, now I’ll tackle some of the biggest things that people point at when they try to claim that Joshu is a terrible character;

He's a “nice guy” and is possessive over Yasuho who's not interested

He tried to r*pe Yasuho (I’ll say it right here and now: This is a COMPLETE AND UTTER misrepresentation of the events that transpired)

He assaulted Kaato

When we start Jojolion, Joshu has a mistaken impression that him and Yasuho are a couple. That assumption is not completely groundless on his part, because both him and Yasuho confirm that they DID kiss, so you really can’t blame him for having a certain idea of a relationship.

When first seeing Josuke and Yasuho, Joshu gets the wrong idea and believes that Josuke was at the very least being extremely inappropriate to Yasuho, with him being naked and all. He immediately tries to save her by attacking him.

Joshu is indeed very possessive of Yasuho and while that’s not something that can be excused, we CAN track down to the reason why he acts that way, and that reason once again goes back to him being neglected by his family.

It looks to me like Yasuho remained his friend because she pitied him, as she off-handedly acknowledges how poorly socialized he is;

If his father and brother cared to give him a better example and lead him, he would probably be less of a creep. Instead, all he had was his confused feelings, the entitlement that come from being raised in a rich family, and no one to teach him how to properly behave - mind you that he also grew up without a mother.

The reason he clings to Yasuho as much as he does is very likely because she gave him the empathy that he feels like he lacks at home. She’s essentially his comfort person.

I think it’s also important to point out that Joshu is not possessive of Yasuho in an objectifying manner - he genuinely cares for her and wants to protect her. That doesn’t excuse some of his actions of course, but I think it’s still fair to acknowledge it.

Next, the r*pe accusation, and context is EVERYTHING here.

Here’s what happened to lead up to the so-called r*pe attempt, and this includes spoilers for the Paper Moon King arc (Vol.6, Chapers 23-25)

Yasuho was attacked by a stand that made everyone look the same to her, and was unable to tell one person from the other. She called Josuke for help, but while waiting for him, she ran into Joshu.

What followed was a whole slew of statements that Joshu TERRIBLY misinterpreted, as his thirsty unsocialized ass tends to do.

One thing leads to another and Joshu takes off his pants - at which point Yasuho realized that he’s not Josuke, at which point she screams Josuke’s name, and Joshu practically freezes in place, the gears in his head probably starting to turn a bit. And then Yasuho knocks him out and that’s where that ends.

I’d say that Joshu was definitely over-eager to get into Yasuho’s pants, but he only did what he thought she wanted, and I believe that if he wasn’t knocked out when he was, he would probably back off once the mistake was acknowledged. Joshu did not want to r*pe Yasuho. That was NEVER his intent.

Joshu is someone who’s entitled, but he’s not evil.

Last thing I see people point to when shit talking Joshu is his harassment of Kaato, and honestly, I am shocked that people are even remotely able to misinterpret that scene, which does nothing but show how protective Joshu is of his family, and how quick he is to defend them.

The following is a spoiler of Vol.14, Chapter 58.

We see the mother of the Higashikata family return after being imprisoned for 15 years for killing a child. She is a murderer and enters the house uninvited, possibly while everyone else was still sleeping.

This is how Norisuke, the father, reacts:

To reiterate:

The father is so startled by the presence of this woman, that he screams and falls on the ground with shock. He then proceeds to yell at her, demanding for her to get out. She doesn’t.

The convicted murderer then proceeds to walk towards Daiya, the youngest daughter, and that’s when Joshu immediately takes action.

He trips Kaato with a chair and then proceeds to speak to her with a very clear intent to try to make her leave.

Is what he said inappropriate? Abso-fucking-lutely. But that was the INTENT.

I genuinely don’t understand why people think this is something that proves that Joshu is a terrible person when what he’s doing is honestly really damn brave.

Think back to how Norisuke reacted to Kaato. For what Joshu knew, she could’ve had an extremely dangerous ability, but he jumped in to stop her from reaching his little sister anyway.

One last thing, and this is a spoiler for some of the most recent chapters of Jojolion; the Endless Calamity arc (Vol.24, chapter 95)

I want to point out one more extremely brave thing Joshu has done; He saved Yasuho’s life while once again possibly putting his own life in danger.

Here’s the scene: Joshu and his sisters just watched his older brother possibly murder their father during a heated confrontation and a clash of ideals.

During this, Yasuho is currently dying. Her stand is trapped in a cellphone, and not close enough to an electrical socket to escape. Jobin had FULL INTENT to kill her. But then this scene happens;

The phone is suddenly by the socket, and Paisley Park got to escape. We never see it being moved, but there is a panel specifically directing our attention to Joshu’s foot.

Someone moved the phone to let Paisley Park escape, and all signs point to that being Joshu.

Again - Joshu, who just watched his brother possibly murder his father, and who had fully attempted murdering his friend. From what Joshu was concerned, nothing would stop Jobin from killing him as well.

Joshu has flaws. He’s entitled, he’s annoying and he’s creepy. He’s also very stupid and very naive at times.

But there are also reasons for why he turned out this way, and those reasons are just.. plainly sad. I can’t help but to pity this character and just hope the best for him, because he deserves to feel loved by someone because he’s not a bad person.

Personally, I think Joshu is a really interesting character and I thoroughly enjoyed every most moments featuring him, especially interacting with his family, because their relationships come across very realistic and lovable (minus the times Joshu is unfairly belittled).

He’s also a really funny character whose ideas, thoughts, and opinions and just a delight to read every time he gets to just act casually.

PS - his hairstyle is great and y’all are just mean

[theawkwardterrier]

An Alliance with an Earl

Here’s one for @lavellenchanted​. It’s no Steggy AU of A Song for Summer (although what is?) but maybe Regency Jily will suffice, Sarah...

Read on AO3 here

I am going to have to buy Frank Longbottom a very nice bottle of brandy, Sirius thought to himself as he looked down at the letter in his hand, but what he said casually aloud was, “It seems we’ve been invited to a house party.”

James finished whatever he was scribbling, taking care to sign his name with the full flourish before he looked up. Light from the wonderfully sunny day, the kind they would never have been inside for a mere year ago, caught his spectacles as he did. James had worn a pair from the time he and Sirius first met as boys at Eton, but when light used to flash across them, it paired with the grin he once wore nearly constantly and his foolishly infectious laugh. Now Sirius half expected James to take his glasses off and massage his eyes, the way their old headmaster used to do.

Instead he set down his quill and gestured to the letter in Sirius’s hand. “If it’s any of your cousins, I shall have to respond in the negative. Well, perhaps we should have Lupin draft the letter - he is less likely to phrase it as rudely as either of us might.”

Sirius tossed the letter opener he had been using on the day's post back onto the very edge of James’s stupidly massive mahogany desk and barked out a laugh. “As if any of my cousins would allow me to darken their doorway. No, it’s the Longbottoms - it seems that old Augusta has allowed Frank and Alice use of the country place and they’ve invited us to come for the week after next.”

He tipped his head to the side, slouching further into his chair. He had once only done such things in the parlor of Grimmauld Place, his parents’ London residence, because in their view posture, like wealth and good breeding, was one of those things which mattered and he made a point of not allowing such things to matter to him. But the habit was so ingrained in him now that every time he sat, he tended to perch himself with a leg slung over the chair arm or his back placed on the seat and his head allowed to hang. “Not having access to that all-important family tree of my mother’s, however,” he said, “I really couldn’t promise you that I’m not cousins with either of them somewhere along the way.”

“Aren’t we all? I think between the two of us, we must be related by blood or marriage to half the ton.” James stretched his arms back and above his head, rotating his wrists and making a slight groaning sound. “Not, however, closely related enough to stop plenty of mothers from shoving their most eligible daughters into my path at every turn.”

Sirius nearly responded as he once would have, with a jibe about that sort of thing being unavoidable for such a catch as the future Earl of Gryffindor. Two years ago, however, after the deaths of first his mother and then, weeks later, his father, James actually became the Earl of Gryffindor, and seemed to think nothing in that line of humor at all funny anymore.

Quite a lot had become unfunny to James, actually. Some days, Sirius worried that his friend’s shoulders would simply break from the responsibilities settling there. Oh, James still came out with them in the evenings, still made them laugh and could manage to charm nearly any woman in a given room. But his old self, the one who loved racing on the fastest horse or placing the highest bet, the one who thought duels were daring instead of a measure to be undertaken only under direst circumstance, who snickered with Sirius around the corner after they had placed a tripwire across the school corridor...Sirius suspected that boy to be gone for good. In his place was a nobleman who inherited too early, whose indulgent father had thought to have more time to teach him how to grow into the man he needed to be, and who was now struggling to meet the expected role under the weight of who he had suddenly become.

Which was why, Sirius thought, eyes scanning the invitation from the Longbottoms again, this would be perfect. Balls and parties around London brought with them some degree of diversion if not enjoyment, but also held a reminder of responsibility. A playful lack of interest in marriage had once been the subject of jokes between James and his mother, but finding a wife, having a child, had now become a grim and acute duty. Sirius hoped that this more simple gathering, merely a few friends out in the country air, would allow James some desperately needed socialization with much more limited pressure - not to mention that it would tear him away from the deadly dull work which seemed to pile endlessly upon his desk at Gryffindor House in London and at his estate of Godric’s Hollow.

“Anyway, Longbottom’s always done us a good turn,” Sirius said, forcing a bit of a yawn to keep his manner as informal as possible. James went tense at the littlest things these days, at the merest suggestion that he might lay his duties to the side for just a moment or any hint that Sirius thought he might need to relax. “And Alice is a fine girl from what I remember. It’s only polite for us to join them, since they asked.”

James looked over toward the window, the drapes drawn back to reveal the bright, busy Mayfair street outside. The sunlight caught the lenses of his glasses again so Sirius couldn’t see his eyes; still, something seemed to grab at his mouth for a moment and twist it in pain. But the next second, he was turning back to Sirius looking like himself again, or at least like this new self. He picked up his quill once more and said, “You know that I am only ever polite.”

It was a lie, or at least Sirius hoped that it was. Either way, however, it was an affirmative response, which was exactly what he had hoped for.

“I’ll inform the Longbottoms, then,” he said, still maintaining his nonchalance. “My handwriting has always been better.”

This was true, but he mostly said it because being bested at something always made James a bit disgruntled and this time was no different. Without looking up from whatever document he was currently taking careful notes upon, he crushed a piece of paper with his other hand and tossed it toward Sirius’s head.

So there is something of you left after all, Sirius thought with relief as he caught the crumpled ball. Let us hope that some time in the country is enough to bring you out again.

Having known Alice since her own first season four years previous, Lily was quite familiar with her friend’s sweet, detail-oriented, and slightly nervous personality. She had received numerous letters in the weeks leading up to the house party filled with particulars of the menu, questions regarding the ideal number of guests, or worries that there would not be sufficient entertainment, and had tried to send back her reassurances that Alice’s first instance of hosting such an affair would surely be a resounding success.

Yet, as her carriage came to a halt on the wide drive in front of the house, she was unsurprised to see Alice wriggling a bit and twisting her hands as she stood with her husband’s arm over her shoulder.

She alighted from the carriage and went over to greet them, trying to infuse a bit of levity into the way she said “my lady” to Alice, though it didn’t seem to work. Alice linked her arm with Lily’s under the premise of leading her into the house and whispered, high and trembling, “Frank’s mother insisted on joining us and bringing friends of hers, which has my numbers entirely off, and you know what Lady Longbottom is like besides.”

“You are Lady Longbottom as well,” Lily reminded her, but before she could say something else bracing, she saw, striding across the grounds with Sirius Black at his heels, another person who would apparently - and unfortunately - be joining them.

She successfully avoided him over the next several days, making certain to keep at least five people between them even when they were in company. The odd thing was, however, that he didn’t seem to notice her very much at all. No, that wasn’t right. He clearly noticed her, his chin dipping in recognition if their eyes happened to meet across a room, but he did not pursue her in the way he once had.

He did not, in fact, act similarly to the way she remembered in general: his remarks, when he made them, were astute and his sense of humor not at all mean-spirited, he tended to spend most of his time at the edges of the room rather than the center of it, and every time there was dancing he took at least one turn with Hestia Jones, who everyone know was very nearly on the shelf. The whole thing was the slightest bit confusing, though, Lily reminded herself, it was a perfect relief not to be approached. Their paths had crossed less in the past two years or so, but she remembered sharply their prior interactions.

On the day before they were to return to London, the gentlemen were called to a hunt while the ladies attended to their correspondence. Lily had just finished and sealed a letter to some distant cousins in Sussex when the footman brought the morning's post. It did feel a bit Sisyphean, finishing the last of your responses only to have more required, but Lily was certain that none of it would be for her; Alice had invited most of their close friends, after all, and Lily's family was not large.

However: "Oh, here is one for you, Lily," Mary said, picking it up from the tray and passing it over. "From your sister."

Lily swallowed. "How lucky." She stood, tucking the letter in her pocket with fingers that fumbled despite her best efforts. "Do you know, it looks as if it might begin to rain this afternoon. I would like an opportunity to spend some time out of doors before the weather turns. Would anyone like to join me for a walk through the gardens?"

Though Alice looked as if only her duties as hostess kept her inside, the mention of a potential storm made the rest of the group demur, as Lily knew that it would. Within five minutes, she had her cloak on and was making her way alone into Lady Longbottom's lush and splendid garden. She walked until she found a small seat to perch upon and, after taking in a few deep gulps of the air (it seemed that she had not been wrong: there was a tinge of moist heaviness to it that spoke of an oncoming storm) forced herself to open the letter.

She read it through once, then a second time to see if she had misunderstood. She had not. She wanted to cry.

In person or in writing, Petunia never said anything that Lily wanted to hear. They had been friends of a sort when they were small, but Lily had long since given up on her sister understanding her or even loving her despite not doing so, and she no longer sought her approval. If they could have stuck to basic pleasantries or the dutiful exchange of sentiments, that would be one thing, but in the last year, Petunia had turned nasty, and this latest letter...

"Da-Deuce it," Lily said aloud, leaning over to scoop a handful of pebbles from the ground. She pitched one toward the bushes, then threw the next one harder when it seemed not to alleviate any of her upset. Even that did nothing; she flung the full handful. "Damn it!" she shouted, disregarding all propriety, then placed her palms over her eyes, pressing down as if surrounding herself with darkness might help.

"Lily? Er-My apologies. Miss Evans, are you quite well?"

Her hands flew from her eyes. Standing before her, uncomfortable but certainly there, was the Earl of Gryffindor.

The first time he saw Lily Evans, James Potter was standing on the balcony of Lady McGonagall's home with Sirius and Peter. They had left Remus below distracting their hostess; she had been widowed several times longer than she had been married, but it seemed to suit her well and she ruled every occasion hosted at her home, and in the ton generally, with an iron fist.

"She's quite fine," Peter had said, jabbing a finger toward a lady in a pink gown who was being helped from a recently arrived carriage.

"Too fine for the likes of you, Pettigrew," Sirius said carelessly, though James did not get the sense that he was joking. Peter forced a laugh anyway.

"There's plenty of girls here tonight for all of us," James responded, scanning over the street. Most people seemed to have already arrived. "With the season just starting, no one's begged off for the evening or tired of each other's company yet."

Sirius snorted. "That's your opinion. I believe I tired of the company of most everyone here before I was past my dear father's knee."

"Well, there's always—" James started, but did not even complete his thought, much less his sentence. Instead he said blankly, "Her," leaning forward a bit over the rail as if this would help him take in each detail of the new girl who had just stepped from her carriage. She was followed by a slightly older girl wearing a most unattractive expression and a woman he would guess was her mother, but James did not pay them even a moment's mind. His mouth had slackened as he studied her hair - it looked dark from this height and in the barely lit street, though not dark enough to be brown - as he imagined her eyes, and took in each nuance of her expression, excited and just a bit forward, her shoulders thrown back as she stepped toward the party.

By the time James got downstairs and escaped a lecture about etiquette from Lady McGonagall, her dance card was full, but he at least found out her name. The next day, armed with the largest bouquet from the most expensive florist in the city, he stopped at the house that she, her mother, and her sister were renting for the season. There were several other gentlemen in the room already as he was announced, but he paid them no mind as he walked over to her, knelt, and said, "Miss Evans, I would like nothing more than if you would agree to become my wife."

Later, his father would berate him for this, for going about it without asking permission, for being too hasty, introducing himself and proposing marriage in the same breath. But he knew that this would not have made the difference. Because there was a look in her eye, as if she had been expecting this and had prepared her answer, when Lily Evans said, quite coolly, "No, thank you, my lord."

And now here she was, sitting in the garden before him, looking far less collected than she had that day. She had lost the aspect of the ingenue - she was near his age, making her at least two and twenty - though she was no less lovely for it. The deep red of her hair, the arresting green of her clear eyes, were familiar to him by now, though he did not typically see those eyes looking so startled.

“My apologies, Lord Gryffindor. I had thought you had joined the other gentlemen.” She hastily made as if to stand and curtsy, but he gestured at her to keep her seat.

“I had some business which necessitated my return to the house,” he said, trying to hold himself straight, the way his father would have done, but it did not work. He shrugged his shoulders, sagging a bit back to himself. “Well, that is not the truth of it. It is what I said when I begged off, but to be frank with you, I wanted a moment with my thoughts. And they were planning on shooting deer besides, something I have never quite been able to stomach. The Potter crest features both a doe and a stag, you know, and the deer are truly beautiful when they run - it always seems such a terrible thing to do, killing them.”

Fool, he thought despairingly, refusing to allow himself to collapse with his face in his hands. The first time you have spoken with her in years and you come off as a blibbering fool who is unmanned by the thought of a hunt. Not to mention using her given name - even if it is how you address her in your head.

But, strangely, instead of regarding him with even her usual disdain, she was watching him with a slight smile: the first, he thought, she had ever directed toward him.

“Do you refrain from eating venison then, my lord, in honor of your family crest, and the sight of the deer running?”

The lightly teasing sound of it, as if they were any sort of friends at all, made him grin far wider than the comment meritted. “I’m afraid that by the time I find myself at table, my stomach does not have such high minded ideals.”

She actually laughed now, and it made him comfortable enough to gesture to the place beside her. “May I sit?”

“Oh, of course.” She glanced over and saw her letter still there, crushed at the edge, and snatched it up. All traces of laughter left her face as suddenly as they had come.

“Have you received bad news from home?” he asked as carefully as he could, seating himself a decent distance from her, even on the small bench. “I know that you have a sister - is something amiss with her?”

Her mouth pinched inward, though not, he thought, as if his question had angered her. She swallowed and then said, “I would not say that something is amiss with her, no, though she certainly seems to think something is amiss with me. Or, I suppose, she thinks that I am still too much a miss.”

“I’m sorry?”

“As am I.” Her laugh now held no lightness nor humor, and he valued the true one she had given him all the more for it. She glanced over at him, seeming to examine his face closely; he did not have time to shift his expression, but whatever she found there was apparently correct, for she began, slowly, to speak.

“My mother passed this last autumn and since then I have been living with my sister and her husband, an arrangement which suits none of us. In their view, I should have been long since married and of no concern to them. My sister has hinted before, but she writes now that her husband has determined that I should be married before the end of the season, and if I have not found a match myself by that point, he has selected one for me.”

He watched her sit up straighter, the wind catching a strand of her hair and whipping it from her coiffeur so it lay in beautifully vivid contrast to her pale throat. She stared out into the gray bluster of the day as she said, “It is well known that Lord Snape has expressed his interest in the past. My brother-in-law did not initially view the match as advantageous enough, but it seems that given the lack of other prospects, that avenue has become sufficiently promising.”

James felt his fist clench atop his thigh before he truly thought to clench it himself. Severus Snape had been heir to his nearly insolvent barony through merest coincidence - all closer cousins were female, a fact which had led Sirius to remark that Edward Christian might have had the right of it in Blackstone’s ten years past and perhaps women should be allowed some latitude in inheriting. And yet, those with whom Snape chose to consort closely were the most disagreeable sorts of snobs, people who believed anyone without generations of nobility behind them to be worthless.

He seemed to think it a great compliment that he would single out Lily as someone meriting his particular attention despite her own father having been only Mr. Evans. One of James’s few consolations after Lily had rejected his proposal had been that she had apparently rejected Snape’s as well. He, however, had not taken it with good grace or even James’s own dazed acquiescence; instead, he had stated publicly that it was merely a sign of her low breeding, that someone of a more elevated bloodline would have been happy even to have been approached by him. (James had run into Snape one evening shortly after hearing of this, and would have called him out on Lily’s behalf had Remus not intervened - and had James not already been so foxed he could barely string the words together discernibly.) Still, in the years since, Snape had made it plain that he would be willing to consider her were she to humble herself enough.

“Surely there must be other options,” James said, a bit awkwardly. For the rest of the season following his initial proposal and even into the next, he had arrived at her residence with regularity, though he had not approached her so directly again - too humiliating, and impolite besides to press when he had been so clearly declined. But although it had been some time since then, he knew, even when he did not want to, that she was often called upon by others.

She hesitated, seeming to choose her words carefully. “I was, perhaps, not as wise as I might have been. Not as wise as I thought myself to be.” Her gaze drifted to her lap, where her hands were folded carefully over the letter. “I was not waiting for a love match, I truly was not. I simply hoped to find someone who was not on the hunt merely for looks or for a biddable wife, with whom I might find conversation and companionship, someone who truly saw me. I allowed myself to believe I had time to be selective, and while my mother lived she indulged me, perhaps even enjoyed being able to keep me close for some time longer. But now she is gone, leaving my keeping in the hands of another who is not so lenient, and it seems that I have waited too long. Those who were once interested have moved on to women who are prettier or younger or lighter-hearted, women with larger dowries or who do not seem as fussy as I, and I cannot blame them.”

I have not moved on. It came to his throat readily, nearly voiced before he stopped himself. He did not want a wife right now, he reminded himself, and he especially did not want a wife who was cornered into the marriage, and it did not matter if that wife would be the one woman to whom his eyes turned without his control anytime they were in the same room.

But if he could at least help her, just a bit, even if it would mean tormenting himself, well, it was not as if he were not in torment already.

“I wonder—” He cleared his throat. “That is, I wonder if you would consider...It is rather unconventional, of course, but if you were amenable…”

“Have you something to say, my lord?” she asked, turning to him with just the barest hint of amusement touching her mouth.

“I could, perhaps, affect as if I were courting you,” he finally spat out.

His breath held for a moment in his lungs, and he was certain that she would gasp or dash off or even strike him, but instead, though the humor had gone from her lips, she tipped her head to the side and asked, “And what would be the object of such a ruse?”

“Well,” he said, voice a bit too eager now that she had not reacted with outright negativity. “The season settles into such dull rhythms after a while that any new story always gathers interest. Considering our...history, I suspect that a courtship between us would have tongues wagging, which would certainly remind people of your charms. And of course, not to generalize regarding my sex, but men are always particularly roused by the idea of rivalry. Were I to pose as a serious suitor, it would surely spur others to emerge as alternative contenders for your affections.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit at this last piece, but she only said slowly, “And what would you gain from this arrangement?”

James forced himself not to cross his arms. “My own parents passed not long ago…”

“I had heard,” she said. “My sympathies,” and from her it did not sound at all rote. He nodded.

“Thank you. And mine to you, on your mother. But in any event, it has left me with quite a lot to learn regarding my position, and I have found the continued attention of certain mothers and their unwed daughters to be an extremely inconvenient distraction. Were I to be seen as having my affections already directed toward another young lady, I believe they would leave off, and I would have some reprieve to attend to the management of other things.”

She looked away from him once again, squinting out absently into Lady Longbottom’s hedges. One foot tapped a bit, and her finger ran around the edge of her letter, though he suspected that she did not remember exactly what paper it was. They were the sort of gestures that he would have taken for granted in another male of his acquaintance or in his mother, but young women were always on such perfect behavior around him that simply being allowed to see these common mannerisms made Lily seem filled with an extra bit of color, of brightness. He swallowed, unsure once more that making this offer had been in his best interest; then again, he had never been known to be hesitant or particularly calculating. Diving headfirst was always more his style, and he had rarely looked out for his own interests with any real care.

Finally Lily said, “I would, of course, not want to take you from your other responsibilities, but if this were to work, I would require a certain amount of attention to ensure that others truly believed that you found me of interest. Would three evening occasions and three daytime meetings per week be reasonable to you?”

“Perfectly agreeable,” he said, even as his heart began to pound in a manner so uncontrolled, he might as well have been running. “Let us say two dances together when we are in attendance at the same ball. I believe that expresses the right amount of interest while still indicating that there is a chance for others.” Traitorously, his mind began to slip into wondering about holding Lily’s body against his own in a close dance, how he might feel her laugh rippling over his skin during a more energetic reel, her face alight as she returned her hand to his.

She nodded slowly. “Thank you. That should do quite nicely. And, of course, if I at some point become affianced, I could spread word on your behalf regarding your broken heart if you would like - that should grant you a bit of extra time before the interest begins again in earnest.”

At her mention of becoming engaged to someone else, the wind, which had been pleasantly brisk a moment ago, seemed to cut through his riding coat, his skin, right to his heart. “I would certainly appreciate it,” he managed, keeping his voice as steady as he could.

“Well, I am very appreciative of this,” she returned. “I had not expected...It is most kind of you, my lord, even to offer such a thing.”

“Think nothing of it,” James replied, knowing all the while that he would be able to think of nothing else.

When they returned to London, the talk was all of what a success Alice Longbottom’s house party had been. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mary Macdonald would certainly be announcing a wedding soon; Hestia Jones, several years older even than Lily and practical, was allowing Peter Pettigrew’s attentions; and - pigs might fly - James Potter seemed to have caught Lily Evans at last.

They had agreed to walk together in Hyde Park as a first outing, and for all her thought that a secret might bind them together and smooth over any lingering awkwardness, Lily was hard pressed to think of a more uncomfortable stroll she had taken in her life, and she had certainly been on her share of contenders.

Part of the problem was that she could hardly believe she had even agreed to such a scheme in the first place. It was ridiculous, unheard of, completely foolish of her regardless of the situation Vernon and Petunia might have placed her in. Even more difficult to conceive: she had agreed to it with James Potter of all people. The same James Potter she had rejected without remorse, who she had sniffed at when hearing of his later reckless exploits, counting herself blessed she was not attached to him in any way. Well, there were few people she was attached to more closely now.

“Have you told anyone?” she asked abruptly, the first either of them had spoken in some minutes, after the pleasantries regarding the return journey to London, how they had each fared so far that day, and the state of the weather had been exhausted. “Have you told anyone about our…?”

He cleared his throat, though whether from discomfort or disuse she could not tell; either seemed entirely feasible. “Our arrangement? I’ve told Sirius. Remus and Peter as well.”

“Ah.” She attempted to transform the critical press of her lips into a smile as she nodded to the passing Bertha Jorkins, though she could practically already hear Bertha dashing off to tell whoever was closest that Lily Evans had been walking alongside Lord Gryffindor with a most unattractive expression. “I suppose I might have expected, considering your closeness. I had heard that his lordship, at least, has rooms in your home.”

“Yes, Sirius has had a strained relationship with his family for several years now.” Lily, though no gossip, was aware that this was an understatement. It was well known that, had it not been for the scandalous reflection on the family, the marquess and marchioness would have disowned their elder son years ago for what they considered his lewd behavior and unseemly friendships; as it was, they rarely mentioned each other in public, and pretended the other did not exist when they were present at the same function. “Even when my parents were alive he had free run of Gryffindor House, and the place has only become emptier since so there is plenty of room for even one as untidy as he.”

Lily glanced at him, unable to help hearing the sadness in his voice although he tried to give the words some degree of levity. She did not comment on it, however, saying instead, “It is rather unconventional, though of course utterly reasonable.”

He shrugged. “Were Sirius my brother by blood, he would always have a place in my home. As he is my brother in all but that, I see no reason that he should lack such a place merely because of an accident of parentage. I have offered Remus and Peter as well - there are probably a dozen bedrooms going unused, and perhaps even more which I have not discovered - but they have both declined.”

“The decor is not to their taste?” Lily asked, winning her a laugh.

“No, Peter’s mother still has a residence in London and prefers he stay with her, and Remus…” He sighed, his mouth shifting a bit to the side, as if this were a problem he was well used to mulling over. “He has his pride, and a part of that is insisting on keeping his own lodgings. But he does join us for supper several times a week, and as Mrs. Pomfrey, my housekeeper, nursed him through many a childhood illness and injury, he cannot well refuse when she tells him we have food going spare and he must take some home.”

It was this comment which forced her to fall silent. Somehow it was even more shocking than the way he had seemed to her transformed in the Longbottom’s garden, smaller and more human instead of filled with that overconfident persistence she had remembered and hated, more shocking than when he had suggested this ruse in the first place. She could not help but think that when Lord Gryffindor sat in his office or attended a session of Parliament, some part of his mind was distracted by wondering how he could best take care of those closest to him, even if it made others about the ton think him odd for it. There was not even anything to be gained from his solicitousness: Lupin’s father, if she recalled correctly, was a missionary only distantly related to some minor viscount, and Pettigrew’s hope of becoming a baron rested on two uncles and seven purportedly hale and hearty cousins meeting untimely demises.

“It is most kind of you,” she finally said, but he merely shrugged.

“As I said, Gryffindor House is altogether too large. My father actually decided that two sitting rooms was quite enough and turned the third into a space for experimentation - he was a bit of an amateur natural philosopher.”

“Truly?” The grin taking over her face felt a bit silly, but she found the idea of it a bit silly, and entirely delightful.

“Truly. In fact, he enjoyed having such a room so much that he had one of the bedrooms turned over at our country home as well so he could continue with his discoveries there. He actually was fairly successful at it. His tonics and ointments might remain family recipes, but there is a pomade of his invention which is only growing in popularity.” His smile tinged a bit sad at the edges. “I think he would have been quite tickled to hear that.”

“I’m certain he would have been.” Familiar with the propensity for jollying people away from their remembrances, as if the sorrow of it was too much for polite conversation to bear when perhaps a moment of dwelling would be welcomed by the one grieving, Lily remained silent for several paces and kept her tone neutral when she said, “These experimental rooms of your father’s sound most entertaining. I wish I could see them myself sometime in the future.”

“Of course, why don’t I—” But he was too smart a man, to finely bred, to allow his tongue to run away with him and simply invite her over. They wanted to build a gentle interest in her from suitable parties, not ruin her reputation entirely. Instead he said, “I’m certain I shall entertain at some point during the season. My mother was well known for her gatherings, and I could never let down her reputation. I shall, of course, have an invitation sent for you, and we will make sure that there is a tour.”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Her arm had been resting on his as they walked, but she allowed her hand to press a bit more heavily against him in gratitude. She had meant it to be a momentary gesture, but he turned to her then, his dark brown eyes catching hers from behind his spectacles, and she found that she could not look away. They were still walking, she was nearly certain, but how many people they were passing, what everyone might be observing, she had no idea.

It was he who cleared his throat and took his gaze from hers. “I suspect that was sufficiently convincing to anyone watching,” he said, and cleared his throat again.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, of course.” Although, if she were truly forced to consider, she thought she might find that it had been somewhat convincing to her as well.

If the training on proper behavior that James’s mother had tried to instill in him had one benefit, it was the ability to keep a brilliant smile on his face even as he asked quietly, “Is there something I can do to make you more comfortable?”

The cotillion offered little chance to speak privately - one was constantly being forced to circle or line up beside other dancers - so it was not until their next brief whirl as partners that she was able to reply. “I am perfectly comfortable.”

“Forgive me for saying so, but you do not seem entirely to be enjoying yourself,” he said hurriedly at the next opportunity. “You have barely smiled.”

Many women of his acquaintance and most of the gentlemen would have lost track of the conversation as they stepped and wove and traded partners before rejoining, but she merely said, “Perhaps you are more accustomed to dancing with those with silly looks on their faces. Here, I shall make you more comfortable.”

The expression she pasted on was of such exaggerated adoration that he nearly burst into laughter straight into the face of his new partner. As it was, he returned to Lily grinning and found her doing the same.

A whisper seemed to start at the edge of the ballroom (they were quite definitely not displaying the usual polite smiles reserved for these events) but James barely noticed that their plan was coming to some success.

“Well played, Miss Evans. Clearly I should have left it all to your capable hands.”

“See that you do next time,” she responded with a regal nod, and the thought of next time filled his mind with such sudden brightness that his grin stretched anew and did not stop when the music did.

“Unacceptable!”

At her sister’s hiss, Lily looked up from the embroidery in her lap, but did not need to ask what was causing Petunia’s upset. She was altogether too familiar with the expression that came with minor household imperfections, and by the glare being leveled at one of the teacups, she suspected that some nigh invisible spot had been detected.

“All our visitors have gone,” Lily hastened to say. “I’m sure there is no need to disturb—”

But it was too late. Petunia had taken the cup and stalked from the room, undoubtedly to berate the poor housekeeper or whichever maid came across her path.

Shaking her head in sympathy, Lily nevertheless allowed her gaze to wander over to the place behind the curtain where she had hidden the novel she had been reading before the callers had started arriving. Petunia barely allowed such pursuits in privacy; reading in front of gentlemen would certainly have earned a reprimand.

There had been a goodly number of callers, enough that Lily found herself hopeful for the first time in a while, but she would be glad to have a chance to relax, a few moments to just be in her own mind. She was standing on soft feet to go retrieve the book when the butler arrived and announced, “Lord Snape.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she was not at home. Over this one thing she had control, and it would be so easy to exert it; she could nearly feel the relief of avoiding him. But something, a wisp of remaining affection for a childhood friend or a desire to see whether she would be able to bear him should the worst case scenario come to pass, made her nod and say, “Show him in, and please inform my sister that he has come.”

The butler stayed after bringing Severus in, standing guard beside the doorway for the sake of propriety in a way which made Lily feel protected rather than surveilled.

“Won’t you take a seat?” she asked as she did the same, but he did not seem even to take heed of her words.

“You danced with Lord Gryffindor last night,” he said. His riding gloves, held as a pair in one hand, smacked lightly against his thigh, and Lily held herself back from flinching.

“Yes, we recently discovered that we have much in common with each other, despite past differences. I found him a most amiable partner,” she responded, her tone not as cold as his but not particularly warm either. She reclaimed her embroidery and began to work on it as she added, “I had not realized that you were in attendance at the ball.”

He gave a short, sharp laugh, and she could not help but notice the difference between it and the one Gryffindor had given the night before. “It was not the sort of affair that I would take interest in. I was in attendance at the Selwyns. The company was a bit less...mixed.”

And there it was once again, this idea that could not seem to be purged from him, this idea her old friend seemed to have no interest in overcoming. “I find that with such an attitude, I cannot regret not having received an invitation,” she said, making three flawless and focused stitches in quick succession.

“But—” He began to surge forward, until the butler let out a loud and pointed cough. Jaw tight, he stepped back once again and said, “As my wife, you would have received such an invitation and would have no fear as to the attitudes shown you. There would be only deference. You would be under my protection.”

Her hands fell still in her lap. She looked up at him directly and spoke with precision. “I have no interest in engaging with people who would only tolerate me were I under your protection, and I have equally little interest in marrying a man who believes that it is deference and a shield from petty remarks which I seek in a marriage.”

There was a twitch of anger in his face which he covered over quickly. Severus had always masked things so easily; it had once seemed natural to her, a part of him, but now she found it slightly frightening, not being able to tell his true thoughts or feelings.

“Very well,” he said. “That is your opinion. Only remember when Gryffindor has thrown you over for the next pretty thing which comes his way, that I will still be here.”

Lily swallowed. Steadfastness was an admirable trait, but being the sole focus of someone like this felt more like being a hunted animal, a butterfly trapped behind glass, only meant to flutter prettily at the one who had caught it and locked it away, stolen from nature.

“Ah, Lord Snape,” Petunia said from behind him. Her voice was not pleasant - she and Severus had never liked each other - but it was polite, and Lily realized how much her sister and brother-in-law were depending on Snape to take her if no one else did. “May I offer you some refreshment?”

“I shan’t be staying, Mrs. Dursley,” he said, with equally cold politeness. “I merely wanted to ensure that Miss Evans is well. Good day to you both.” He gave a short, sharp bow, and walked past the butler out the door.

Lily rested her hands on her lap for a moment, then forced herself to pick up her embroidery. Even if Snape were no longer in the room to see, she did not want to give him the power of her anxiety.

She cast her mind once again to the plan. It had seemed a longshot at the time, slightly foolish, but she needed it to work. Unbelievable as it seemed, she had placed her trust in the Earl of Gryffindor, and she needed him to have been worthy of it.

“I must say, Miss Evans,” James said, “that you are quite the most stubborn woman of my acquaintance, possibly the most stubborn in the whole of England.” He kept his tone fairly low in deference to the fact that they were surrounded by dozens of other pairs of dancers, but he knew that his amusement came through regardless. She was arguing her point with the focus and diligence of an experienced barrister, which was entirely annoying while also being entirely too much fun.

“Well, England is not particularly large, so I shan’t worry overmuch,” she responded pertly.

“I rescind the comment. You are surely the most stubborn woman in all the world.”

“Merely disagreeing with you regarding the best type of pie does not make me the most stubborn woman in the world, my lord. It only makes me someone who knows her own mind, and I should hope you would be aware of that.” He thought that she might break away from him to place her hands on her hips and wag her finger in the scolding so familiar to him from his time in the nursery, and he held on just a bit tighter, not out of any ridiculous concern for propriety, but simply because these moments when he was allowed to touch her were outlined with such care and detail that he did not want to miss a single second.

She did not even attempt to move from him, however, a smile breaking its way across her face instead. “And regardless, I have complete certainty in the superiority of the apple pie, as any right-thinking person would.”

“Lemon pie,” James responded staunchly, nearly gritting his teeth even as he grinned back. “On the day that you try the lemon pie we eat at home, you shall eat your words along with it and beg my forgiveness.”

“I shall certainly sample it when offered, if only in the spirit of open inquiry and because I am absolutely secure in my own opinion, although I’m doubtful that I would ever beg anything from you.”

“Expect one at your home tomorrow afternoon, then. I do not retreat from a challenge any more than you.”

They were standing close enough that he could see the precise way her eyes flashed as she said, “I take your challenge gladly.”

“I say, is there to be a duel?” Benjy Fenwick, a longtime friend of James’s, seemed taken aback as he came alongside them. James felt similarly taken aback, shocked that the outside world had managed to intrude, shocked that it even still existed; without their having realized it, they had completed the steps of the dance and the next set was starting.

“Of course not.” Lily blinked, then adjusted her tone. It was not precisely fawning, James decided, nor coy, but there was a polite feeling to it, as if she had tucked away some of her warmth or her particular character. He wanted to bring it back, to make certain that the world did not lose that sparking magic of hers, but at the same time he found himself oddly relieved that Fenwick, who she had been so excited to add to her dance card, was not worthy of her true self. “A simple debate between myself and Lord Gryffindor. My apologies, my lord. It is terribly good to see you. Shall we rejoin the floor?”

Fenwick offered his arm and they took their places for the quadrille, while James retreated to the corner where Sirius was observing everything.

“Fenwick’s a nice fellow,” said the man who had only a moment ago been James’s best friend.

“Hmm.”

Sirius sipped at his cup, which James doubted contained only lemonade. “I’m certain Miss Evans would be delighted if he were to further his attentions toward her.”

“He isn’t—Fenwick is fine. He never excelled in a single class to my knowledge nor has he grasped sarcasm, he seems entirely content to be an unassuming third son without particular purpose, and I have beaten him handily every time we have fenced, but he is fine. However, Lily—Miss Evans needs more than fine. She needs more than nice,” James said, exasperated. “We’ll simply have to keep this up until she finds someone else. Someone better.”

“Indeed.” Sirius sipped again, a damnably amused shimmer in his eye. “I suppose keeping up your arrangement would be the only way of achieving that.”

“Of course it is,” James said.

“Of course it is,” Sirius echoed, but he was smiling, almost as if in relief. James turned away, even though he was fairly certain that he did not want to watch Lily dancing with someone else, smiling at someone else.

No, not fairly certain, absolutely certain. But if she was the most stubborn woman in the world, he was the most stubborn man, and he forced himself to keep on. The whole point of this was to find Lily a husband, and she had made it perfectly clear that she did not consider him to be a contender. He would have to become accustomed to seeing her with someone else. He would simply have to.

“Not only pie but ice cream as well?” James asked, licking chocolate from his spoon. “How does one manage to have so many wrong opinions?”

“Unbelievable as it might seem to you, an opinion is not wrong simply because it is not yours,” she responded, taking a dainty bite from her own dish. “Although, to tell you the truth…” She looked this way and that before leaning across the table just slightly. He mirrored her at once; apparently it was lucky that he was a part of the plan because he seemed more eager for gossip than any ten ladies of Lily’s acquaintance. “I actually only order the maple because it seems the least popular. It’s terribly sad to think of it simply melting away for lack of interested customers.”

He gaped at her for a moment. “But then you miss out on the chocolate,” he said, with a sort of implacably simple logic that belonged in childhood. She laughed.

“The maple isn’t actually bad. It simply isn’t as popular because it is overshadowed by the other flavors. Even the lavender gains an audience simply because it sounds sophisticated. But…” Her voice lowered even further. “Sometimes I finish my serving and then ask for a dish of chocolate as well.”

“Gluttony, Miss Evans?” he said, eyes glinting. But where she might have once reminded him sharply that he certainly had more experience in deadly sinning than she, now she merely raised an amused eyebrow and said, “Enjoyment, my lord,” before sitting back and picking her spoon up once more.

He seemed to watch her more closely than the simple movement deserved. “Enjoyment indeed,” he said, and his low voice was not as one telling a secret, but one who had forgotten he was speaking aloud. She glanced up at him sharply, but before she could say anything more, he too had started on his ice cream again.

“One thing I do miss from my travels is getting to try the local delicacies,” he remarked. “There is quite a bit more to the world than the traditional menu would lead you to believe - although I will confess that I was glad to come home to lemon pie and chocolate ice cream.”

“Oh, yes, you mentioned that you had traveled. Where did you go?”

He waved his spoon. “All sorts of places.”

“Please, you must give me something more particular than that. I have never been even to Scotland and might never, and so I may only read about other places in books and listen jealously to stories such as yours.”

“Well, most people start off in Paris, but we - Sirius and I - went to the Netherlands first, then throughout Prussia, then down to Italy and Greece, and across the water to the Ottoman Empire. We even got a chance to see Egypt and some of North Africa before…” His mouth had clearly been coming up with the words before his mind was ready for them. When he realized what he would have to say next, he seemed to take a steadying breath, sliding the ice cream away from himself as if it no longer held appeal. “Word reached me that my mother had taken ill. We cut things short.” He swallowed. “Unfortunately, it made no difference.”

The urge to reach across the table and touch his hand came to her quite suddenly; she was nearly surprised into giving into the impulse. Instead she folded her hands on the table and said softly, "That must have been quite difficult, moving so quickly from a time meant for freedom and adventure and frivolity to one of urgency and then of mourning.”

“I wonder if mourning should always feel sudden, even if one were expecting it,” he said. Once she would have thought it shocking if not impossible for this man to take such a serious tone or speak such a profound thought aloud, but she was finding that there was quite a lot about him which was unexpected for her but no less true.

He cleared his throat. “Regardless, you needn’t be jealous: our travels were not as full of frivolity as all that even before we received the news from home.”

Perhaps if she had not spent the last several weeks so often in his company, with such an awareness of his every expression and how it would be perceived, she would have mistaken the charming smile he gave for a true one. As it was, she said simply, “Oh?” and waited with patiently folded hands for him to continue.

His eyes observed her keenly for a moment before dropping to his lap. Slowly, he said, “I thought that merely reading in the newspapers about the ruin Bonaparte made of things on the continent was enough. I thought I understood. But it was nothing to actually seeing everything that people needed to rebuild, hearing from the locals all that they had lost.” His expression turned self-deprecating. “I had once thought that had I not been the eldest and only of my family, I might have been a soldier, but I could barely stomach even the aftermath years later.”

“I think you could have been a soldier had you the opportunity,” she said. “I believe it can only be for the good to have soldiers who fight not because they enjoy the battle or out of a desire for glory, but to bring peace, to protect the innocent. And of course we have determined that you can come up with an innovative strategy with haste, a quality I’m certain would have served you well.”

That actually made him smile truly, and she could nearly see him trying to brush away his unfortunate mood. “I thank you for your compliments,” he said. “And of course, all of that was no more painful than what you had to bear. You have lost your mother more recently than I did my parents. If anything, I should be comforting you.”

“There needn’t be a competition between us regarding our suffering,” she pointed out. “And taking a turn at being comforted simply because I am next in the queue is not how I like to remember my mother.”

“How do you like to remember her? I confess, we—” He gave an uncomfortable cough. “We had little opportunity to speak.”

She wondered if he remembered that, although they had indeed spoken little on the occasion, it had been her mother who had guided him gently from the room after his ill-fated proposal. She suspected not - he had seemed quite dazed in the moment.

“I have rarely enjoyed simply being in company with someone as I did her,” Lily said instead. “Our minds seemed to work quite similarly. I miss so many things about her - her quiet humor, her independence although even as a girl I could tell that she wished my father had not passed so young, and how she always seemed to know exactly the solution to any problem in the household, any social faux pas - but more than anything, I don’t know that I will ever find someone who seemed so often to echo my same thoughts. I’m afraid it left my sister a bit isolated at times. She engages with the world so differently. It was Mama who always encouraged me to continue reaching out to her, trying to allow some understanding between us.”

Now it was her turn to glance down at her lap, although she forced her eyes back up toward him mere seconds later. “I imagine these last months would have been easier if Petunia and I did have some sort of understanding, even an imperfect one. I am not speaking of my...situation, although I am certain that would have been different had we been closer. But there are so many memories which only we two now share, and I wish we had closeness enough to recall them together.”

He nodded. “I was lucky to be able to spend a few weeks remembering my mother beside my father before his passing. Perhaps that time would have been better spent in discussion of our holdings or my responsibilities, and had he known what was to come he might have insisted upon it, but I find that I cannot make myself regret those times. And now I have been lucky to have Sirius nearby to share with me his memories. He spent so much time in our home, with my parents, that he can easily recall to my mind things I did not even realize I had forgotten: the way my mother ordered a new perfume for each season, or how my father would sit alone with a cup of hot milk when he was particularly pensive.”

His throat seemed nearly to catch as he swallowed. “I suspect it is always easiest to bear these sorts of things when you are with people who will listen, even if they cannot share experiences with you. I am sorry that you do not have the same.”

“Well,” she said, “I wonder if perhaps I do.”

She had not known she would say the words until she did, but she had felt them all the same. She had her own friends, it was true, and yet no one seemed to want to discuss her mother’s passing the way he did, no one even seemed willing to try beyond platitudes or small embraces. And he seemed overwhelmed by the comment, his lips falling open just a touch, eyes large and bright behind his spectacles as they caught hers.

“Miss Evans.”

She very nearly fell from her chair, and her only consolation was that he nearly did as well, although he recovered more quickly, his from-the-cradle training pushing him to rise and bow smartly. She had forgotten, somehow, that they were in the middle of Gunter’s, that their object for the day was to be seen in public laughing together and enjoying each other’s company in order to rouse the notice of others, that being with him - pretending to be with him - was only meant as a waystation on the path to the man with whom she would actually spend the rest of her life.

Somehow, as she sat at their small corner table, she had only been seeing him.

“Miss Lily Evans,” Lady McGonagall said again, and Lily remembered to stand and curtsy. The countess looked her over closely, then turned and said, "You could hardly do better, my boy."

In their limited interactions, Lily had rather liked Lady McGonagall and she suspected that she was liked in return, but she was still surprised at her warm and roundly approving tone.

The countess continued: "And James Potter. Earl of Gryffindor, Viscount Peverell, cousin to the king, heir to the Potter fortune..:” She glanced him over and tilted her head to speak directly to Lily. “I suppose you could have done worse." She turned back. "See that you're worthy of her," she said, in that way of someone accustomed to being obeyed without question.

And while Lily could feel her eyebrows practically springing into her hair, he merely smiled and said, "I am trying my best.”

He really was remarkably good at pretending - for a moment, even Lily nearly believed him.

Having already attended the agreed upon number of occasions for the week, James could easily have begged off of the Weasley’s supper party and spent the evening at home or at his club or out with his friends (up to less savory pursuits, if Sirius was allowed to be in charge). He told himself that his reason for accepting the invitation was simply because he liked Molly and Arthur - regardless of their financial status, they were actually enjoyable company, unlike many in the ton - but that did not explain why he had not cited another engagement following the meal instead of sitting through the gentlemen’s retreat and then their return for cards and socializing. Overall, as he watched Lily set her face fiercely across from him at the whist table, he found any excuse less and less convincing by the moment.

Sirius elbowed him. “It seems as if you have a tiger for a partner,” he remarked in a low tone, somehow managing to lounge in his chair while holding his cards properly before him.

“If you are referring to my demeanor, you should well address me directly so that I may tell you just as directly that I have rarely lost and do not intend to do so tonight,” Lily interrupted, running a fingernail casually across the top of one of her cards. She faced Sirius directly, and James suspected that he was the only one who would be able to detect the hints of humor in her face. “And if you were referring to my hair, my lord, well, perhaps you should retire once again in order to refresh your arsenal with more creative comparisons.”

Grinning, James watched Sirius and Remus staring at her in astonishment. They had exchanged pleasantries before, but this was the first time his friends were spending time with Lily, and she was certainly leaving an impression.

“Goodness, Sirius,” Lupin finally said, a chuckle building in his throat. “If you do need to retire after such a carefully aimed attack, I can certainly replace you as a partner.”

“No need.” Sirius sat up straighter, staring Lily down with good-natured ruthlessness. “I have talent enough to come up with my riposte as we play.”

Lily said, “One might say that if there has not been a response within the first moment, there is not one forthcoming,” then bowed her head politely to Sirius, adding, “Not, of course, that I am referring to anyone in particular.” She faced across the table once more and said, “Now then, shall we play, my lord?”

“James,” he blurted before he could think better of it. "You should call me James."

It meant something, giving her leave to call him by his given name, and he wondered if he had been holding himself back from this particular development, one which now felt inevitable, as some sort of protection. The thought of it felt quite tangled about in his mind, but regardless, he needn't have said it in front of his friends.

He could tell that they were gaping at him - well, Remus had his eyebrows raised so high that they were practically on the moon and Sirius's expression had defaulted to arch surprise - and he even thought that Molly Weasley might have looked over instinctively from her own whist table to ensure that nothing was amiss, but his eyes were for Lily alone.

"James, then," she murmured comfortably, though he seemed to see a touch of something like nervousness, even fear, in her eyes as she said, "And you may call me Lily, of course." But it was gone the next second as she said to the group at large, "Shall we play, then?"

"I like her," Sirius declared as they sat in James's study later that night having a brandy together. "I like her quite a lot."

"As do I." James tapped a fingernail absently against his glass. Lily was indeed a champion whist player - he was willing to lay the lion’s share of their team’s victory at her feet - and her dress tonight had been a most fetching shade of blue which offset her hair quite startlingly. Obviously she wore green beautifully, and he had once seen her in a gown of deep purple which redefined the shade for him, but the blue in the candlelight as she laughed and schemed over her cards…

"I can tell," Sirius said, and his voice was sober enough to break James from his thoughts and look over at him. "I can tell that you like her. It has been some time since I saw you smile with such frequency." His own smile returned and he said, "Although I would wonder if she would consider you worthwhile after tonight. You should call me James, indeed." He repeated it, voice lower and more pompous than James believed his to be, then in an oily, seductive way, then with a shy blink through his lashes, until his impressions were apparently so hilarious that he fell into laughter and could not continue.

Dear Miss Evans,

Dear Lily,

Madam,

I hope this note finds you well, and my apologies for leaving without a proper goodbye - or truly any goodbye. I had an early letter regarding a fire near one of my estates which necessitated a speedy departure. Luckily the damage appears to be less serious than feared: there are no severe injuries, it seems that only minimal repairs will be required, and the harvest will not be affected.

I spent the morning helping to clear some of the wreckage, and then was deemed competent enough to swing a hammer and so was able to help with some repairs. In the afternoon, I assisted with a foaling, although to be frank, I'm not certain that I was truly any help at all. If I recall, I mostly spent the time asking the farmer whether it would truly work and flinching away as I wondered whether that amount of fluid was normal - which it apparently is. (If any of this should happen to make its way to Sirius, I'd like it to be impressed upon him that he would certainly have done no better in the circumstances, and if he doubts it, he may come try next spring.)

I shall likely be staying another two weeks at least - now that I am here, there is some business it would be wise to take care of - but I hope that my absence gives opportunity to those perhaps not bold enough to come forward while I am about. Only recall, of course, that you do not have to give in to such gentlemens’ attentions if you do not want to...unless you desire a husband over whom you can take charge. It would, after all, be only natural for you to desire someone whose stubbornness will not outmatch your own. But if you are waiting for something else in a man, please recall that you are a most excellent catch and quite eligible on your own, and someone with the highest qualities to recommend him will see that in due course.

In the meantime I remain,

Yrs &c

James Potter

Dear Gryffindor,

It is quite a relief to hear that things were less dire than initially believed - although I suspect that they might be a bit dire still if they are allowing you near hammers or any other tools. I shall, however, refrain from sharing my opinion on that with any of your friends or acquaintances, as it would likely spoil the illusion of our deep affection for one another (to my knowledge, most ladies do not express their ardor by pointing out the flaws of their supposed beloved). Nor will I mention the incident with the foal - unless I am severely provoked to it.

Since you bring up potential suitors who might be suffering from attacks of nerves at the thought of crossing the formidable Lord Gryffindor, I did dance twice with Mr. Davey Gudgeon at the Abbott ball evening last. In the first dance he was anxious but quite sweet, but in the second he mistimed his cross-step during the Duchess of Devonshire's Reel, knocked into Miss Vance (or as he put it “nearly had his eye taken out by her!”), and seemed to desire me to spend the rest of the evening fetching him cool cloths and telling him that the redness was not visible. It depressed things quite considerably, I must say.

I shall be waiting with bated breath for these gentlemen of highest quality who you allege to be on the horizon. My criteria remain, I believe, modest: kindness, someone who will be a friend to me, and who will be open to conversation. (Degree of stubbornness matters not at all, regardless of your inferences to the contrary...) Hope with me that they come soon: if my need for air becomes too pressing, I shall be left gasping at the feet of Lord Snape, and there is more than one reason I have worked for many years to avoid such a fate.

With best and most sincere wishes,

Lily

Dear Lily,

I shall keep in mind not to provoke you, although I should ask that you grant me some amount of latitude in what is meant by provoking lest I blunder into it and you are forced to cast aspersions on my reputation as an iron stomached lord of the domain.

Although by your description, Mr. Gudgeon has set the standards quite low in this regard. If these are the men of the ton, I believe my reputation would remain intact even should my inability to assist in live animal births be revealed. (My reputation with Sirius in specific would, of course, never recover.)

I hope that whoever you partner with at the next occasion is more suitable, and that it is certainly not Snape. Forgive me for asking, but I wonder if I misunderstand your comment regarding him. Has he caused you insult or injury further than is commonly known? I give you my assurance that I shall refrain from rash behavior, regardless of your answer - although you must know that I might countenance a considered, planful vengeance upon my return.

James

Dear James,

Your reputation remains intact here in town, although Lady Bones did frown most ominously upon your absence at her party two nights past, even with your other friends present. (Mr. Pettigrew seemed a bit downcast, despite my efforts to cheer him; it seems that Miss Jones has been engaged to another.) Apparently you have a habit of slipping from your promises of attendance. It is a lucky thing for you that it was I with whom you entrusted your secrets, or she might be casting aspersions in revenge even now without you here to defend yourself. (I suspect, however, that she would not, regardless of her pique - she is quite dignified.)

Regarding your own revenge, there is no need. Lord Snape and I were acquainted as children, prior to his inheritance, and he believed that our past friendship and certain areas of mutual interest were enough to assure his suit. However, in the intervening years, I found his choice of friends to be quite reprehensible and his values not to match with my own. I care little regarding his insults toward me, but he was similarly disparaging to those for whom I care, or stood by and listened while others acted similarly. For those reasons I refused him, and while I have the choice, I will refuse him still. You are already doing quite enough in allowing me to continue to have such choices, and for that I must thank you once again.

Yours,

Lily

Dear Lily,

I avoid Lady Bones because she is so intimidating that I perpetually fear that simply being near her will result in unintentional confessions. Even Lady McGonagall, who is quite shrewd and can devastate with her tongue lashing, has a sense of humor beneath it all; Lady Bones seems all mind and sharp eyes.

Perhaps this observation is another which can remain between us? Although if I encounter her again, I might find myself revealing it regardless.

As for Lord Snape, I still find that I would rather confront than avoid him, but as this is your battle, I shall defer to you. (If his path and mine were to cross, however, I wonder at my own control.)

I am to journey home in two days’ time, and while I do not find myself anticipating my arrival back in the social whirl, I hope that you will have some time free to walk with me at least. We must remind everyone of our affections most publicly, after all, as the attention of the ton is short - and besides, it has been quite too long since last I saw you.

Yours,

James

Her drawing room did not lack for suitors these days, her dance card rarely had an empty place, and surely someone would offer for her soon, but as they walked through the park together, even given the gloomy weather, Lily found herself overwhelmingly glad that James had returned.

He was speaking of a visit he had taken to the school in the village, his manner proud as he described the recitation that the students had performed for him - although he turned sheepish as he described how, when one boy had asked him to show them his own skill, he had needed to make up an excuse and flee in order to avoid embarrassment.

“Truly, you could not have been such a terrible student that you cannot remember a single thing,” she admonished, laughing slightly. He really was quite intelligent, as determined as he sometimes seemed to act otherwise; they conversed often on literature and current events, and his friend Lupin had once let slip that James had received a first at university.

James tapped his head. “I’m certain there is some passage or poem lurking around up here, but what if I had erred in front of them? I could never have endured the shame. And, being frank with you, I was never a particularly engaged student. That crop I saw was all much better and they deserve the credit for it.”

“I had not realized that you would be so involved in the education of your tenants,” Lily commented, lifting her skirt a bit to avoid a puddle which had collected in a dip in the path.

“Many are not, but my family has seen it as a responsibility of ours for some time. Not everyone will find themselves at university, but there is no reason that we cannot help to ensure that there is instruction beyond the most basic of reading and sums.” He said this all very staunchly, brow furrowed, but he relaxed a bit as he added, “My father would often send books down for the schooling of the boys.”

“And what of the girls?” she asked before she could stop herself.

Her sister would have hissed at her in shock and shame, both for the impertinent tone and for even bothering to ask the question, but James just grinned. “That was my mother’s pet project, actually, a schoolhouse educating the village girls. Whenever she had heard that my father had provided more materials or hired on a new schoolmaster, she would do the same for them. She was quite an admirer of Wollstonecraft.”

“Really? I had not heard,” Lily said. It was not altogether surprising, as she had never interacted with James’s mother in life, but gossip did travel far and fast. And Lily was sure that if she had known this about the late Lady Gryffindor, she would not have forgotten; although she had hidden it from not only Petunia but their mother as well for fear they would be scandalized, Lily had read both Thoughts on the Education of Daughters and Vindication of the Rights of Woman and considered the ideas within them often.

“It’s likely fairly common knowledge in that corner of the country but she kept it a bit quiet in London. She always said that it was easier to change people’s minds when they did not know your opinions well enough to start bracing themselves and preparing their counterattacks without having even heard your points.” Strangely, it was not the smile on his face which spoke more to Lily of his love for his mother, but the gruff clearing of his throat as he said, “She could likely have worked for the War Office, my mother. Napoleon would have been dispatched much sooner.”

“I wish I could have met her,” Lily said honestly. “I wish I could have met both of them. They both sound quite lovely, quite special.” She had one arm resting in his, but she drew up her other hand and covered his fingers lightly, trying to communicate the truth of her sentiment.

James nodded. “They were, to me and to each other. I was terribly lucky to be able to watch their partnership for as long as I did.” He squeezed her fingers back.

His hand, Lily realized, was warm beneath hers, warm and very strong and somehow comfortable. She did not know how it had happened or when, but she had grown to adore walking alongside him, hearing his thoughts and having him listen to hers, watching the way his face crumpled a bit with concern over his friends or his tenants or news from the continent or some issue in Parliament, seeing his concern turn into determination, registering the degree of his every smile and laugh, especially when they were for her.

She thought of the things she had told him she wished for in a husband, comfort and companionship, someone who truly saw her, and she knew that she had that in James, and that she had more too. He had told her that he had arrived back in London near twilight the previous evening, and that after so long in the carriage he had wanted to stretch his legs so he had walked part of the way to Gryffindor House. She had not mentioned that she had been at her window as he passed, that she had involuntarily drawn in a breath at the sight of his undone cravat, of the leanly muscled forearms beneath his rolled up sleeves, of the hair that she once thought foolishly messy but which now seemed dashing as he brushed it carelessly from his eyes.

Neither had she told him that she had run down to receive the post each morning that he had been away, and not only because she had feared Petunia withholding his letters from her if she got to them first. She did not mention that she had read them over more than once, conjuring up his awkward little gestures and his seriousness and his enthusiasm, imagining him swinging a hammer beside his tenants, rubbing a finger against his lips as he read her own correspondence the way he did when he was particularly engrossed in something. She did not speak of the way, when she lay in bed, she thought of his eyes lighting up behind his glasses as he returned to see her, nor of the way she would fall asleep smiling just from the thought of being with him once again.

Oh, she thought with polite surprise, even as it felt as if a rock were sinking into her belly. Oh, God. I’ve fallen in love with him.

She had never questioned her refusal of his proposal all those years ago. There was no doubt that he would not have suited her at the time, that after a short time he would have realized that she did not suit him. Only, if they had turned into who they were now and they had already been married…

She allowed herself a moment to imagine it, being married to James, being a friend to him over the years not only at a distance or because of some scheme but in true partnership as his parents had been. To have all that they did now, but also to be able to touch each other, to be alone together.

But she could allow herself only that moment. He had made it more than clear at the outset that he was uninterested in marriage at present, that he now found the idea a bothersome distraction. She had missed her chance, and she would simply have to live with it. Fenwick had danced with her thrice two nights past, tantamount to a proposal. She would live a fine life with him, and James would be happy, one day, with someone else.

Swallowing against the tears in her throat, she squeezed his hand once more and let him go.

When Remus came running into the room two days later, James thought he must be falling ill once more. His friend kept his condition quiet, but he had developed malaria as a child after time spent abroad due to his father’s work; attacks of the illness came on periodically, bringing with them terrible fevers and pain which James hated to watch and could do little to stop.

“Shall I call for the doctor?” he asked desperately, forcing his thoughts straight as he rose from the table where he had been having a late breakfast and shoved out a chair for Remus to collapse into. “You’re meant to have that quinine remedy, aren’t you? Have you run out?”

But Remus only shook his head frantically, finally rasping out, “A drink, please.”

James hastily poured him tea, remembering only after he had handed it over that it would likely be cold by now. He had come down to breakfast late already, and then had lingered quite a long time absently eating through progressively more tepid eggs and fish as he read over reports from his solicitors. But Remus took it down in a gulp, making a face only after he had finished and returned the cup to the table.

“You’ve been found out,” was the first thing he said.

James slowly regained his seat. He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I was at the stationers,” Remus continued as his breathing calmed slightly and his color began returning to normal. “And I was approached by Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange - those bounders married to Sirius’s dreadful cousins, you remember.”

“Of course.” If James had not already known and disliked the men in question, he would have pitied them, Lestrange especially. “But I don’t see—”

“They said that they knew that Lily had been having one over on everyone,” said Remus grimly. “And they know of your part in it too. It’s apparently already being spread all over town. According to them, as soon as Snape found out, he went to go see Lily’s brother-in-law: he seems to think that Dursley will simply give Lily over now that there are even rumors about her being duplicitous or what have you, and having only met the man once I’m inclined to think he’s right.”

James stood from the table so quickly that he didn’t unbend his legs in time, hitting both knees on the tabletop and needing a moment to straighten himself. Fingers fumbling with his cravat, he called for his coat and hat, only pausing after he had done so to ask, “Did they say how they found out in the first place? I don’t expect that Lily was spreading it around, and I only told you three.” There was an unpleasant turn in his stomach at the thought of Sirius’s unbound tongue when he was in his cups. But surely even then, he would not have revealed the information? If Lily’s life was ruined because of this…

“It was Peter,” Remus said.

“What?” James said, his thoughts still on how Sirius would have to grovel, but then the words made it through. “What?” he said again, so shocked that he sank back into his chair. “Peter?”

Remus said, with the air of a doctor giving a fatal diagnosis, “He was trying to ingratiate himself to them, I think, but they kept needling him about Hestia Jones throwing him over. So he struck back by letting them in on the most sensational secret that he had.”

“I’ll have to—” James began weakly, but then his anger took over. “I’ll speak with him later,” he said, rage bristling through him, pushing his shoulders back. He found himself wishing that the morning had never started, but it was too late for that. He took a fortifying breath as the butler returned and set his jaw. He would need to handle things regarding Peter, but for now he had somewhere else to be.

Fifteen minutes later, he was nipping at the heels of another butler as he walked through the hall to the drawing room of the Dursley house.

“No callers all morning?” came the voice of Lily’s entirely unpleasant sister. “It seems that the bloom has quite come off the rose. I caught Vernon in my second season, you know. It seems that once again you will not be so lucky.”

“The bloom coming off the lily would have been the more apt reference, Tuney,” Lily replied. “And I am quite grateful that you were the one to catch Vernon. But regardless, perhaps everyone somehow divined that I would prefer some quiet time with my thoughts this morning.”

“And what thoughts are—”

“The Earl of Gryffindor, madam,” the butler announced, mere seconds before James entered the room.

Petunia Dursley rose and curtsied. “My lord,” she said, although with a turn of her lip as if she would prefer to call him something else, or even to comment on his lack of manners in barging into their home. If James had not been so distracted, he might have even appreciated her lack of ingratiation: too many people began positively groveling as soon as they heard the title. As it was, he was distracted by the sudden realization of the flaw in his plan. For all that the ton relied on rules and propriety, Mrs. Dursley clung to the concepts with a martial gleam that put most others to shame. She would never leave them alone and unchaperoned, not for a moment. Perhaps he could trip her, and in the chaos, whisper something to Lily…?

“Would you like to sit down?” That was Lily now; he focused enough to watch her gesture to a chair across from the sofa which she and Petunia shared, and even to follow her direction, although he was still distracted by the necessity now of coming up with a plan.

“Would you like something to eat or drink, my lord?” Lily again. She had set her embroidery aside and was eyeing him oddly. He had the feeling that this was not the first time he had been offered a refreshment.

“Tea would be lovely,” he managed. Maybe her sister would go to arrange it…

But no, Petunia Dursley simply rang for a maid, then picked up her own embroidery and began conversing about the weather as if she were being forced into niceties with a pistol at her back. He was able to manage answers for several minutes, sipping tea occasionally, even as Lily looked at him in a way which clearly showed she thought him mad.

“The weather is indeed lovely,” he finally interrupted a bit desperately, although he knew that firstly, it was not, and secondly, Mrs. Dursley had been asking whether he believed that there would be more rain this month than the same time last year. “Perhaps I might take Miss Evans on a walk?”

“Fresh air would certainly be wonderful,” Lily said swiftly.

Petunia glanced between both of them suspiciously. “You walked only yesterday, Lily, with Mr. Fenwick. I’m afraid you will become too dark and hearty-looking if you step out so often.”

James Potter had never even considered being rattled by an exam, a fight with a fellow gentleman, or an upbraiding by his mother. The slightest sweat broke out on the back of his neck now.

And then, several things happened, if not at once, then in very close succession: the front door burst open followed by a stream of unintelligible invective; Petunia rose, calling, “Vernon, is there some trouble, darling?” and began to cross the room; and James, spotting an opportunity, upended his teacup onto her skirt with a barely believable, “Oh, my apologies!”

Instead of causing her to leave the room at once to put herself to rights, this clearly non-accidental dousing simply made Petunia eye him stonily, mouth agape. James ignored her, turning and starting, “Lily—” before being cut off.

“Thought you could pull one over on us, eh?” Vernon Dursley had arrived in the room, impressively red in the face. The color became even more impressive as he spotted James, and he barked out a “You!”

“We’ve been found out,” James said rapidly, returning to face Lily alone. “It was my error. I should not have—In any case, I have heard that Lord Snape has already tried to finalize things, but if you were to marry me, I believe that you would be…”

She was looking at him with the same vaguely curious expression that she had all the way back in the garden at the Longbottom house party. The arguments he was about to make - that the power of his title and standing would offer protection to her reputation, that it was only honorable that he make amends in this way considering it was his lack of discretion which had allowed their secret to be known, that he would trouble her as little as she liked within their marriage - died on his tongue.

All he could remember was Lily making conciliatory faces to Alice Longbottom behind the back of the redoubtable Lady Longbottom, Lily’s small and capable hand against his arm as they walked, the feeling of her assured steps, of her warmth against him when they danced. Lily’s look of concentration as he explained something dull regarding crop rotations, her careful gestures as she offered some solution. The gleam in her eye when she won at cards, the way she gave Sirius as good as she got and spoke with Remus about literature and was kind to Peter even when he stepped on her toes. Lily, choosing the maple ice cream because it was the least liked, looking fascinated at the idea of his father’s old work rooms, conceding a point only after he had presented his best arguments, teasing him that he allowed his hair to stay in such disarray because he did not want to seem shorter than Sirius, speaking so lovingly of her mother and tilting her head in welcome as he spoke of his own parents. Lily’s smile, her laugh, her mind, the way he felt such joy whenever they spent time together…

He had thought himself in love with her years earlier, but that had been mere infatuation, an enjoyment of her appearance, her outward manner. He had been drawn to this one woman who had not been charmed by him, who had offered novelty through her rejection, but that was not love. This, knowing her and wanting to be known by her, always, this was love.

The teacup was empty, but he placed it politely on the side table before he slid from his chair and knelt before Lily. He took both of her hands in his and held them near his mouth. Surely this was allowed? Hands were allowed, he had kissed many of them, although not ungloved like this and not with this precise level of intimacy. The Dursleys certainly seemed to take offense: Petunia gasped in nearly all the air in the room, although she left enough for Vernon to bellow out an “I say!” James ignored them both, watching those spectacularly green eyes of Lily’s instead.

“I have no flowers,” he said softly, “and I have no ring, although I can obtain both very soon, but if you would have me, I should like to marry you. Not because you must, and not because of what my name can offer, but because you are my friend, because I adore you, because I want you to be my partner in every dance, today and for the rest of my life, because my favorite times are when I am with you, because I want to spend each one of my days with you beside me.” He swallowed. “Will you have me?”

And just as he had known the first time he had asked what her answer would be before she said it, he knew now too.

Two years later…

Sirius was not certain whether it was his sighing or his constant checking out the carriage window, but a few miles from Godric’s Hollow, Remus had apparently had enough.

“Please,” he said, faintly begging. “Borrow a horse and ride ahead.”

“It would not be polite to leave you alone,” Sirius pointed out dutifully, glad that his mother was not there to see him acting in such a manner.

Remus countered, “It would, in fact, be more polite than what you are doing now.” He gestured to the manuscript atop the travel desk on his lap. “I have much to keep me occupied, and you are merely a distraction from it. Now go.”

And so, less than an hour later, Sirius directed his commandeered horse up the neatly maintained path to the house. A servant was already hurrying out as he swerved to a stop by the front door (Lily had been welcomed easily as countess, and her staff always rose to exceed her expectations), and Sirius tossed over the reins and bounded up the steps two at a time.

He was recognized immediately by the butler and footmen and maids, but he only nodded in acknowledgment of their bows and curtsies as he strode through the entrance hall and made his way to the main staircase.

Barely had he reached the upstairs landing when he heard a door thrown open and saw James barrelling toward him.

“Sirius,” his best friend shouted, nearly knocking him over when he couldn’t manage to come to a stop quickly enough. Without apology, he grabbed Sirius’s hand and hauled him further down the hall. “The baby’s here.”

“I know,” Sirius said, laughing. “You wrote to us, that’s why we came.”

But James didn’t seem to hear him. “Come see the baby,” he said, words nearly toppling over each other in his excitement. “Come see Lily. Come meet my son!”

His spectacles were falling down his nose and he looked as though he hadn’t slept in the days since the baby was born and there was a large, unpleasant looking stain on his waistcoat over his ribcage, but Sirius had never seen him so happy.

And as he allowed himself to be dragged for his first glimpse of the future Earl of Gryffindor, Sirius realized that the best friend of his childhood was well and truly gone. Or perhaps not gone, he decided, but transformed. James had left behind old habits and made way for new. He had laid aside the roles of rake and man about town and had taken on others, earl and husband and now father. They would no longer challenge each other dangerously or act below their age and rank, and that was no pity. James had happiness here, a different kind than Sirius had once expected, but no less true for it.

“Let’s go see your son,” Sirius said, and James laughed a wholly exhilarated sort of laugh, running his hand through his hair and beginning to describe the baby as though Sirius wouldn’t see himself in only a moment.

Two weeks later, Frank Longbottom received two bottles of extremely fine brandy alongside a note from Sirius Black.

Congratulations on the birth of your son, and my belated thanks for the invitation.

“What invitation?” Alice said, rocking their new baby Neville as he read the card aloud to her. “I should hope that you have no intention of inviting people around for months yet.”

“Not even—”

“Especially not your mother,” Alice said with exhausted vehemence.

“Well, I have no idea what he’s talking about, regardless,” Frank said, hefting one bottle to eye level. “But it’s a jolly nice gift anyway.”

“I would have preferred some chocolates, and Neville might have liked another blanket, but I suppose we shall make do.”

“Oh, Nev will like this perfectly well one day.”

“One day quite a long time from now,” Alice remarked, but she smiled as she did.