#jules merit

[refinedstorage]

Fave bastard gets his own post

Syndicate 2012

[mintmuha]

Bad idea, Merit (redraw again)

[vonlipvig]

now that the olympics are winding down, here's my top 3 characters from paris 2024:

🥉: the ice cold south korean shooter lady

🥈: raygun, the australian breakdancer with a phd

🥇: the Muffin Man

[katelynnwrites]

I'm Losing It (All I Get's Jealousy) | Laura Freigang

warnings: ~

word count: 1377

summary: your girlfriend, laura gets jealous at national camp

a/n: jealousy is not something i've written before because jealousy isn't an emotion i have much experience with but i got two requests (one, two) so this is my attempt to do so

‘Hey.’ You laugh as a certain blonde pulls you into her lap, when you walk past her in the locker room.

‘I missed you.’ She complains, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck and tightening her arms around you.

‘I’m right here schatz.’ You murmur, leaning back into her.

Laura presses a kiss onto your forehead, content for you to stay where you are.

Even when more of your teammates trail into the locker room.

‘You’re a cosy pair.’ Sara immediately teases.

‘Also I hate to interrupt but it’s our turn for media.’ Jule adds, with a mischievous grin.

You giggle and turn around to kiss your girlfriend on her cheek, ‘See you in a bit.’

Laura pouts, ‘Do you really have to go?’

‘Yes.’ You hum and kiss her again to appease her.

The blonde accepts it and relents, letting you follow Jule out of the room.

The younger player pokes fun at you as soon as the two of you are out of the striker’s earshot.

‘You’re so in love with her. Like you should have seen your heart eyes.’

You blush and shrug, knowing better than to try and counter any sort of comment about the depth of your feelings for your girlfriend.

‘Really! When's the wedding?’

Her words get a laugh out of you, ‘I don’t know Jule but I will be sure to invite you when I do know.’

That's how it is with the Wolfsburg player. She is easy to get along with and makes you smile a lot.

With the media team facilitating, the activity goes by quickly and with Jule participating along with you, is a great deal of fun.

In fact, you laugh so much that you’re still smiling when you get back to the locker room.

Lea is there, having finished her own media day activity.

Your Bayern teammate sidetracks you as you try to make your way to Laura, with a simple request of helping her touch up her make up for photos in the new home kit.

You’re happy to oblige, biting your lip in concentration as you apply a fresh coat of mascara to her eyelashes.

When you are finished and turn back to where Laura was sitting, she’s gone.

Sydney tells you that she’d left for her own media day activity when you ask.

With a sigh, you go and look for a snack to tide you over till your girlfriend is free.

It seems like Obi has the same idea because you find her already digging into a bag of corn chips.

She offers to share it with you but only if you listen to the list of pick up lines she’s been working on, with every intention of annoying her own girlfriend with them once she’s back home.

Sitting beside her, you dip your hand into the bag as you listen.

‘Are you lightning? Cause you’re McQueen.’

You snort, ‘Awful.’

Lena chuckles before reading out another, ‘Are you a charger? Because I'm dying without you.’

This one doesn’t even merit any response other than you rolling your eyes.

‘What’s it like to be the most gorgeous person in the room?’

You giggle, ‘I don't know. I'd have to ask Laura.’

The midfielder groans, ‘Stop it. You have it much too bad for her.’

Eating another corn chip, you nod acceptingly and Obi shakes her head in disbelief.

‘They say nothing lasts forever. Want to be my nothing?’

‘Eh. It’s not completely dreadful.’ You feedback.

‘Are your shoelaces tied? Because I don’t want you falling for anyone else.’

‘Cheesy but better.’

Lena grins and encouraged by your words, tells you another, ‘Let’s play a game…not hide and seek though, people like you are hard to find.’

‘No. No. No. Obi, that is terrible.’

‘Well the whole point is to annoy my girlfriend, not sweep her off her feet. I've already done that.’ She points out proudly.

You grimace and the brunette offers you more corn chips.

‘Last one okay? I swear.’

Her excitement should have clued you in to how cringey the next one would be but you don’t realise it till after she deadpans, ‘I had a good pickup line ready to go, but you're so good looking I'm literally speechless.’

You burst out laughing and Lena does too. Actual tears are gathering in the corner of your eyes from how hard you are losing it.

It is at that moment that Laura appears beside you, irritation clearly written across her face.

‘Lau.’ You greet and are taken by surprise when she leans in.

Faster than you can react, she pulls you into a heated kiss. One that she dominates, leaving you entirely breathless when she draws back.

The blonde ignores the wide eyed look on the Wolfsburg player’s face, shortly stating, ‘Oberdorf, the only person allowed to use pick up lines on my girlfriend is me.’

Then she pulls you away from Obi, not loosening the grip she has on your hand until you are in the hotel room you both are sharing.

She stares at you then, with an expression you’ve never seen on her face before. It unnerves you if you are completely honest because she has never been unreadable to you. Not like she is now.

‘What's wrong schatz?’ You softly ask.

‘I don't like Lena trying her pick up lines on you.’

‘She didn’t mean anything by them, you know that she has a girlfriend. I agreed to listen to them in exchange for her sharing her snack with me.’ You explain.

Laura huffs, ‘I still don’t like it.’

‘Lau? Everyone here knows that I'm yours. That you are the one I am in love with.’

Your girlfriend mellows a little at your words.

Ever so gently, you tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and whisper, ‘I love you Laura. You know that.’

She sighs, shoulders slumping down, ‘I know you do. I love you too, which is why this is so hard.’

You frown in confusion and the Eintracht Frankfurt player fidgets with the rings on her fingers, almost as if she is embarrassed as she admits, ‘I just miss you so incredibly much. The past month has been more difficult than usual because the last time I was able to physically see you was at our last camp and that was cut short because I got injured. Now at this camp, I have barely been able to spend time with you.’

‘Oh.’ You breathe as you realise that there is a reason behind your favourite blonde’s sudden clinginess.

She hadn’t been exaggerating when she mentioned how much she missed you, earlier in the day and you mentally kick yourself for not seeing it sooner.

‘You've spent more time with Jule and Obi than me and that’s alright because I know you don’t see them all that often but I miss you. I really really miss you.’

Laura is on the verge of crying now, her bottom lip wobbling as she stands in front of you.

‘I'm sorry. I know the distance is hard but I'm here now okay?’

Slipping your arms around her waist, you draw your girlfriend close to you. The forward melts into your embrace immediately, her chin resting on your shoulder.

‘I shouldn't have gotten jealous. I'm sorry.’ She mumbles.

You hug her tighter.

‘Don’t apologise schatz.’

From the moment you and the blonde had started dating, the two of you have been aware of the challenges a long distance relationship would bring. What you hadn’t been aware of, prior to your conversation, was how much your girlfriend has been struggling with them.

After turning your head so that you can press an affectionate kiss against her neck, you say, ‘Summer break is coming soon and then it’ll be just you and me okay? We’ve got that trip to Mallorca planned and I am looking forward to spending every minute of it with you.’

‘That sounds like heaven.’ Laura whispers.

You hum in agreement and check your watch before adding, ‘Till then we have enough time to take a nap before our tactics meeting? I don’t know about you but all the media stuff has tired me out…’

Your girlfriend doesn’t need to be asked twice.

German Translation:

schatz - sweetheart

[pupsmailbox]

1980's ID PACK

NAMES︰ aaron. adam. adding addison. adrian. alex. alexis. ali. alyssa. amanda. amber. andie. andrea. andrews. andy. anne. annie. anthony. april. ashley. aubrey. audrey. babysitters: belinda. bill. billie. billy. blair. bobbie. bobby. bonnie. brad. brandi. brandy. bret. brett. brian. brianna. brittany. caitlin. carey. carla. carly. carol. cary. casey. charlie. chris. christie. christina. christine. christopher. cindy. clare. clarissa. claudia. cody. corey. cory. courtney. crystal. dan. dana. daniel. darrell. david. dawn. devon. drew. dustin. elliott. emily. emmett. eric. erica. erik. erika. fran. francis. frankie. georgie. gloria. greer. greg. harriet. harry. heather. hollis. holly. jackie. jamie. jason. jayme. jeffery. jennifer. jeremy. jessica. jessie. jody. joe. john.zach. jory. joseph. josh. joy. jules. justin. kelly. kevin. kim. kimberly. kit. kristen. kristy. kyle. landry. larissa. laura. lauren. lee. linden. lisa. loren. lou. lucas. lynn. mallory. maria. marie. mark. marlowe. mary matt. matthew. meaghan. megan. melanie. melissa. melody. merit. michael. michelle. mickey. mike. mikey. mindy. misty. mo. morgan. natalie. neil. nick. nicky. nicole. ollie. other ozzie. parker. patrick. paul. paula. paulie. polly. quinn. rachel. randall. randell. randy. rebecca. rees. reese. richard. rob. robbie. robert. rory. royce. ryan. sabrina. sam. sarah. scott. sean. seth. shannon. shea. shelby. skyler. stacey. stacy. stephanie. stephen. stevie. taylor. the tiffany. tim. todd. tonya. tracy. tyler. valerie. victoria. will. wyatt. xavier. zack.

PRONOUNS︰ arc/arcade. arcade/arcade. arcade/arcem. beam/beam. beep/beep. bling/bling. bo/booth. boom/box. bop/bop. bou/boutique. bright/bright. buzz/buzz. ca/car. cartoon/cartoon. cass/cassette. cassette/cassette. class/classic. color/color. cor/vette. dated/dated. dazzle/dazzle. dine/diner. disc/disc. disco/disco. elec/electric. flash/flash. gae/game. gli/glitch. glitter/glitter. glow/glow. jazz/jazz. juke/box. light/light. loud/loud. neon/neon. nostal/nostal. pac/man. par/parlor. pattern/pattern. phone/phone. pin/ball. po/pop. polybi/polybius. pop/pop. rain/rainbow. ret/retro. retro/retro. rock/roll. salon/salon. ska/skate. star/star. synth/wave. text/text. vin/vintage. vintage/vintage. vivid/vivid. walk/walkman. 🌈 . 🍭 . 👾 . 💥 . 🕹 . 🧩 .

[scribe-of-maat]

Ranking DC Pride 2024

8. Phantom Rodeo (Jules Jourdain/Circuit Breaker, Jay Garrick/The Flash)

Dead last because 1 - it's not self-contained. 2 - it has nothing to do with anything Pride related and 3 - it's the return of the complete rando from last time. At least before the incredibly cool couple of Jess/Flash and Andy/Aquawoman featured heavily but no, because of detractor 1 Jay is here instead. Personally, I don't care about Circuit Breaker and I really hope someone else gets their spot next year.

7. "Hello, Spaceboy" (Starman/Mikaal, Komak)

If I knew who either of these characters were, this would probably be a lot higher. But the competition this year is steep so at 8 they go. Komak and the blue-purple warp zone 80s color pallet is REALLY slick. I thought I was familiar-ish with Starman but clearly there are multiple people running around with that name who have nothing to do with the JSA.

6. "Lessons in Astral Projection" (Nia Nal/Dreamer)

I stopped watching the CW shows that weren't about Black Lightning or Batwoman a looong time before Dreamer was intro'd (or after? I know I wasn't watching Flash way before she came along) but I knew of her and thought her powers and connection to the Legion of Superheroes was cool. I didn't like that there was no confrontation with Maeve in the story but it definitely would have gotten in the way of the feel-good affirmation vibe of the story.

5. Spaces

I'm 99% sure I've seen mention of Phil Jimenez across various DC fan spaces, so the only surprises here were that he was LGBT and that they were bringing back the real-person issue-ender like they did Mr. Conroy. It was nice seeing his journey, and it being so well-told is a real plus. No superheroes anywhere in sight though, save Lynda Carter's Wonder Woman.

4. Marasmius (Pamela Isley/Poison Ivy, Janet-from-HR)

Now THIS one was a ride. The opening left me a little rudderless and I'm not the biggest Harlivy fan so I thought I wasn't gonna get much out of this but if there's one thing I can believe, it's that if we had interplanetary travel the 'phobes would preach their nonsense across the galaxy. Ivy being an anti-villain is used to great effect here. No hand-wringing about morals, no reasoning with hate. Just do unto others as they would do unto. VERY cathartic.

3. Bros Down In A-Town (Jon Kent/Superman, Jay Nakamura, Ray Terrill/The Ray, Miguel Barragan/Bunker)

This one 3rd because I relate heavy to feeling weird about being openly LGBT out and about in public. I thought it was a surprising feeling that doesn't get touched on a whole lot because people generally don't like to see that type of real queer struggle being depicted in media that's supposed to be heavy on escapism. This artstyle though. I follow the artist on twitter because it fascinates me how one person's character can bleed through so transparently in the way they draw.

2. The Rivers and the Lakes that You're Used To (Jackson Hyde/Aquaman, Ha'Wea, Orion)

My bias for Jackson Hyde is showing but this story was also incredibly cool on its own merits. Orion being stone-facedly het for half of it was a choice but my boys showed up and officially got together - which I was surprised to learn hadn't happened long before now - so of course it shot up further in the rankings than it otherwise may have. Him saying he feels like himself when he's around his boyfriend is just *chef's kiss*.

1, Steeling Time (Natasha Irons/Steel, Traci Thirteen/Traci 13, John Constantine, Xanthe Zhou)

Natasha and Traci's appearances were the only things about this I got spoiled on, but after reading this they've instantly shot up to join Jackson and Ha'Wea in my pantheon on ships. I do like how it showed the steps to reconciliation and they were both still clearly open to the idea of rekindling things eventually. But this artstyle makes me want to see a webtoon of these two YESTERDAY.

[blueshistorysims]

September 1921, Henford-on-Bagley, England

Dearest sister,

I hate it. I bloody detest it. Thomas, the title, the fucking castle. I could go on for hours about the castle. It is beautiful, yes, and full of history, but my god, it costs 6,000 bloody pounds a month to even run it. 72,000 a year. That’s more than I would make in fifteen years in my field of work. I think once Thomas dies I am going to sell it. I don’t see the need to live in a Versailles Palace knock-off. I was told that they even hired Jules Hardouin-Mansart and his successor Robert de Cotte to design the place back in 1709. 

I spend six days a week with his grace, learning the skills and duties of a duke. He’s hired an etiquette coach to teach me how to dine properly (there is no need to be so many types of spoons and forks, why is there a fork just for eating cheese and another for snails?), a ballroom instructor to teach me to dance waltzes, and I spend hours with the estate manager, learning to the run the bloody place. Stella has escaped these tortures because her mother thought it be would smart to learn American, English, and French etiquette and dining styles. 

Sundays are my only free day, and I spend it with Stella. She hates it here more than I do. She tells me that she wants to go home, back to New York. I don’t blame her. The countryside has almost no society, and we avoid the neighbors—Thomas doesn’t think we are ready to be in proper society yet. It is so bluntly obvious that he does not like us I almost laugh. 

He leaves for London for parliament soon. I am tempted to sneak away on a boat back to New York. Change my name and run to California where Stella and I will run a hotel. It began as a joke at first, but I wonder if she’s starting to be semi-serious now. I think I will make a case to let us live in London, that way we will be near you and Francesca, and Stella knows people in London. She won’t stuck in a society based on racial privilege and merit. I just want to pursue my own life with my own interests. 

I will send a telegram when I am in London. Hopefully soon. 

Your darling suffering brother, Byron

East London

Giselle set the letter down and sighed. Of course Byron was complaining about living in a castle. She understood why he was angry, but she was living in a tiny apartment in East London, barely making ends meet if she and Francesca weren’t both working. The only person she felt sorry for in the matter was Stella.

“Oh Giselle,” Francesca wailed, opening the door and slamming it behind her. She was crying.

Giselle stood up in shock. “What happened, dearest? What is the matter?”

“I’ve had a telegram from the family lawyer. Aunt Rosamond is dead.”

[lights-at-night]

please tell me about your ocs!!

ok!! so my main ocs are jules and emery! in summary jules is a girl who is trying become god and emery is her devoted friend/sacrificial lamb.

backstory is they grew up together in a cult of an isolated town. when emery was young, the town tried to do a ritual for jules' apotheosis. it didn't work because emery is the town's favorite (i mean the literal town not the people in it). after that, emery moves out of the town and proceeds to move around a lot. emery latches onto jules as the only constant in their life since they move around a lot. after that, the ritual is tried again without emery and then everyone in the town save jules is killed n the town disappears. jules leaves the town, and the town basically goes into hibernation - lights r on, electricity runs, but there isnt any movement or people. the main plot of part 1 of the main story follows emery and jules coming back to wake up the town - jules to redo the ritual and emery because jules asked them to come with her. i wont spoil the rest here bc i do want to make this someday but part 2 and 3 both carry on from the ending of part 1!

emery is intensely in love with jules (not romantic nor platonic but a secret third thing) and as shes their only connection they cling to her and base their self around her. jules loves emery as well but she loves herself more, and she does leverage their devotion to her own advantage. they both feel like the other is the only one who understands them and have a kind of "i dont need anyone else i have you" attitude

bonus feature of the town! it's got enough of a prescence in the story to merit mention even if it isnt really a character. the town is god in the form of houses and streets. sometimes there's fun body horror stuff to do with the town. the streets are structured in 2 concentric circles that converge in the center of the town like an infinity symbol. its origins are unclear. emery and jules lived in the houses in the center of those 2 respective circles. the town loves them because of that.

uhh thats all i can think of rn!

[ur-stepdad]

i'm sooooo mad that the Gary Jules cover of Mad World is the only version of the song i ever heard until THIS year. i didn't even know that it was originally by Tears for Fears

like the gary jules version has its artistic merit but when you put it directly up against the original it's like pitting a polished stone against a waterfall

[these-are-the-first-steps]

(unrelated snippet- rey working under an assumed name while leading what was left of a shattered resistance, finally caught, after years of the universe thinking rey was dead)

They had been paraded out like prized sheep for the execution, half of them silently weeping, the other half with clenched fists. It was only Jenha who stood, now, as still and composed as the center of a storm. She did not cry, she was not tense. If anything, she looked a bit…nervous? Anxious. Like she was anticipating something, something big. Her eyes darted around despite being pointed at the floor as the officer read off their names and what they were about to die for. Formalities.

I wish they’d just get it over with, Kes thought to himself.

It was then that Jenha looked over to him, giving him a slight frown. He replied with a half smirk- the irony of it all was the only thing he had left, why not let him have it?

When suddenly, like the storm finally arriving, a sea of black swept in, Jenha’s head suddenly snapping up, and every officer clicked their heels to attention. Only the man reading their obituaries was left engrossed in his task- a mistake, perhaps, as he suddenly found his panel go dead and he had nothing left to read. As he looked up in confusion, he was met, face to chest, with a fully armored Kylo Ren.

“S-sir!”

“Who gave the order to execute the prisoners?”

“I-It was—“

“I don’t care what their name is. Arrest them. Now.”

“S-s-sir??”

“For superseding my explicit orders. Do it. Now.”

“Yes sir!”

As the man scurried away, Kylo Ren’s head snapped towards them. The mix of emotions was thick- were they going to be spared? What was even going on? Some crying had turned to shaking. Whether that was from relief or a new kind of fear you couldn’t tell.

Kylo Ren’s helmeted face swept the line and examined each of the frightened faces. Of course it would land finally on the only person having no reaction at all to the entire scene. Jenha remained as calm as ever- calmer, in fact, if that were possible, as even the small amount of tension that had been there before seemed entirely drained from her now. She seemed almost…relaxed?

Her head had stayed bowed, and Kylo Ren seemed to observe her for several curiously long moments before, almost hesitantly? why?, stepping towards her. Cautious steps. Yes, Jenha was their leader for years, but did she really merit this sort of what seemed to be begrudging respect from the man who controlled their universe?

“Name,” he declared. Despite the order, it was not barked. It was almost said quietly. Kes was feeling increasingly more alert by the second.

Jenha, of course, did not reply.

“Name,” he repeated again. Tension began to fill the room once more. Jenha may have been their leader, but to make Kylo Ren repeat himself twice? She truly had balls.

“Jen—“ Kes began quietly, but with a quickly raised hand, she cut him off. Kes didn’t understand- whatever was going on, if it could be used as an opening to save their lives, shouldn’t she play along to at least see where it goes?

But she stopped him. And instead, slowly, very slowly, she raised her head. And looked, straight into the masked eyes, of Kylo Ren.

Despite the voice modulator, they could hear him draw a breath, and then another, she did not blink as she stared into the void of the mask as a ragged sigh came through next. Suddenly his hands lifted, and almost like a reflex they all flinched away from him. But Jenha did not move, her face was set, a perfect expressionless mask of her own as Kylo Ren’s fingers instead fumbled with the sides of his helmet, with an out of place clumsiness, until there was a loud hiss as the front of it disengaged and the next thing they knew they were suddenly face to actual face with their flesh and blood Nightmare.

Everyone gawked at him. But the only person he looked at, bewildered and almost shocked, was Jenha.

His face rippled with minute expression as he stared at her. Jules jumped as his helmet dropped to the floor with a clang. Jenha never broke her gaze, but now that they were eye to eye her vision, quite plainly, wandered across this man’s face. He look another step towards her, and even bent down. He was getting down to her level and Kes was nervous now. What was going on? Would he have to pull Jenha away from this monster? But looking at her squared up to him without a hint of question in her posture, he knew that he not only could not get in her way, but that something more was surely going on here.

Both Jenha and Kylo Ren’s eyes ran over each other. Jenha’s stone mask of before was starting to slip as her mouth twitched and her eyes seemed to widen and narrow as carefully as she could manage. And Kylo Ren….well, the mask he wore began to make more and more sense as this man slowly became an open book of emotion. He seemed to struggle with himself, his breaths increasingly shallow, and were those tears? in his eyes?

Jenha had made it her career to only inflict large losses on the First Order. Was their leader really that moved to finally have this dangerous woman in his control?

But then Kylo Ren lurched forward, and his hands clutched at Jenha’s shoulders. Kes could see his long fingers dig into her, almost like he was grabbing on for support.

“Jenha…” Kes began quietly. Just say the word, boss, and we’ll do all we can to mob this guy for touching you.

“Jenha?” Kylo repeated, a breathy question. His eyes narrowed in a pale confusion and he blinked repeatedly as if trying to clear his vision and also make sense of what he was seeing- or perhaps even trying to force himself to see something he was too afraid to.

Jenha looked back at him, her own eyes misting slightly as if she couldn’t look away.

“You know my name,” she replied back, quietly, with a weak, almost defeated smile.

Kylo’s grip on her shoulders somehow became even tighter.

“Say it,” he gritted out. But Jenha’s small smile only grew. “SAY IT!!” he shrieked out, shaking her now, composure utterly lost.

Her smile faltered, and she looked at him with a strange expression Kes couldn’t even name. Until, finally, she spoke.

“…Rey. It’s Rey.”

There was a broken cry when Jenha, Rey?, was suddenly pulled towards Kylo Ren’s chest. Her people cried out, scared for her life. Was he killing her? But his face was buried in her loose hair now, the puffs from his breath billowing the strands, as he seemed to engulf her. Almost as if he wanted to press her into and through himself.

Jenha stood still, she did not resist him, she did not fight back. She let this all-powerful man who had everything hold her as if she were the last and most precious thing in the universe. It was then Kes saw as her hand twitched, and actually lifted, slightly, bumping into his side. Her fingers opened, and she clutched, albeit weakly, to his clothing. After a moment, her grip tightened, and she seemed to push at his stomach, just enough to give the hint, and like an obedient pet, he seemingly obeyed.

They parted, and there was space between them now, but his arms did not drop from around her and her hand did not leave his side. And they stared at each other now so dangerously that it hit Kes like a blaster bolt.

He had seen this look before on the faces of Yun and Aria. These two, Jenha and this killer of all they held dear, were in love.

But not any kind of love he’d seen before. Yun and Aria had been delicate and almost bashful. But these two…Kes looked into each of their faces. There was fierceness, a desperation, a disgusting amount of longing in the way they held each other, and also, above all a veneer of hate. There was also, Kes noted, relief.

This was insane. There was no proper logic to any of this. Jenha and the man she spent every single day trying to destroy? But didn’t he say she had another name? What did she say? Rey?

“Rey…” Kylo gasped at their leader again.

Yes. And there it was again, on her face, that look of relief.

Nothing happening before them made any sense right now, but there was one thing he could absolutely say for certain- all of them were definitely 100% in serious trouble.

[madamelareinette]

A lady as remarkable for her beauty as for her intelligence and the qualities of her heart, the Princess Christine de Belgiojoso, (whose maiden name was Trivulzi), attended Lafayette with assiduous care when the state of his health permitted him to receive her. The General had in a manner adopted her amongst the number of his children, and entertained for her that pure attachment which superior mental qualities always inspire in those who can feel and appreciate them. I often found this excellent woman by his bed-side; and her information, no less solid than varied, and the charms of her conversation, beguiled his fatigues and made him at times forgetful of his sufferings. Lafayette often spoke to me of this lady’s rare merit, of her nobleness of character, and of her benevolence towards her unfortunate compatriots.

— Jules Cloquet, Marquis de Lafayette's physician, Recollections of the private life of General Lafayette

[mintmuha]

More redraws!

[vonlipvig]

we lost in ways that could never have been expected

WE WON

[dykehayleywilliams]

hi jules thank you for the tag xoxo @lesbianboyfriend

last song: paramore burning down the house cover (the only thing i'll be listening to for the foreseeable future)

favorite color: orange (likely answer for a paramore fan)

last movie/tv show: the greatest night in pop. the first 40 minutes is painfully self aggrandizing but the footage from the actual recording session is fun

sweet/spicy/savory: if i don't have a sweet every day i lose the will to keep going on and am very happy about valentines chocolates at the grocery store right now

relationship status: single and actively preparing to die alone 💕

last thing i googled: fiddle leaf fig (debating the merits of new plants)

current obsessions: f1, awards season

looking forward to: visiting my best friend president's day weekend, hiking plans this weekend, madame web only in theaters february 14

@ignorancelive @daylily-mp3 @orthodoxxing @iero if you want to share 💕

[luminouslumity]

Mainland Boys: A Joseph and Billy Story

From Kendare Blake's newsletter: a snippet set on the mainland during the time that Joseph was banished there with Billy.

By the winter of his sixteenth year, Joseph Sandrin had been away from Fennbirn for what felt like a long time. But only when he thought about it. Most days, he was as any of the other mainland boys his age: concerned with his studies, and the break from his studies for the holiday, concerned with prospects of sport, concerned with whether he and his foster brother Billy Chatworth would merit an invitation to the Governor’s Ball. Most days, he was of the mainland, for that was the ground beneath his feet, and those were the lives that surrounded him.

But sometimes, and more often when he was near the sea, he thought of his old life, the one he had led as a boy on that shrouded island of magic. He would think of hot, steamed clams in butter, and birds perched on shoulders. Dogs and petulant cats with such expressive faces that they could sometimes seem to speak. He thought of fields full of barley that popped at a touch. And mostly, he thought of his girls: a dark little queen with a coal-smudged nose, and the naturalist girl with one green eye and one blue.

That day, at the start of December, he stood at the edge of a frozen pond, edged with dead, tanned reeds. Close enough to the sea, he supposed, to spark the memories of the island. Or perhaps it was only that it was December, when both of his girls would celebrate their birthdays.

“Joseph! Ho, Joseph!”

Joseph smiled, listening to the soft crunching in the snow as Billy approached from the direction of the house. Then a sharp crack, and a laughed curse: his shoe must have broken through the ice. “Stop walking on the pond, dolt,” Joseph said over his shoulder. “The ice isn’t thick enough yet.”

“Damn, my foot is freezing!” Billy threw his arm around Joseph and shook him. “What are you doing out here?”

“Thinking.”

“Thinking of Christine Hollen? Squirreled away in the privacy of the Governor’s stables?”

Joseph chuckled. Christine Hollen was the Governor’s daughter. His oldest daughter. She would not be seen cavorting with the likes of him, a foreigner, a foster-son, not even if his foster family was one of the richest in the city.

They had come north for the holiday, like many of the best, most respected families had, including the Governor. The Chatworth’s country estate, Hartford, was not far from the Governor’s own. It was actually visible from the most eastern hill. Joseph ought to know. Billy had brought him up there plenty of times, dreaming of the day he would buy it right out from underneath the Hollens at half the value.

“I’m not about to play around with the Governor’s daughter. Your father would have my head.”

Billy let go of him and tugged his scarf up farther on his neck. “Well you ought to do some playing at least. The lads are starting to talk.”

“You know I’m…waiting for someone.”

“Ah yes.” Billy grinned. “Waiting for someone. And that would be the infamous Jules Milone, wouldn’t it? The girl you haven’t laid eyes upon since you were eleven? The girl you may never see again if I don’t become king of your home country?” He cocked an eyebrow and burst out laughing. Joseph did as well. Billy Chatworth, the king-consort of Fennbirn Island. It sounded ridiculous, and seemed impossible.

Not impossible, he thought as he looked at his foster brother from the corner of his eye. Difficult. But he must have been sent to the Chatworths to groom Arsinoe’s future husband. Why else would the Goddess have sent him?  He had clung to that belief in the early years, clung to it hard, filling Billy’s ears with stories of Fennbirn. His education, in Joseph’s mind. But now that the time of the Ascension drew near, it felt more and more like fancy. Made up by his childhood imagination, to make his banishment bearable.

“Only a few months left,” Billy said. “Finally, after all this time, I get to go to your secret island. I have to admit, part of me doesn’t believe it exists. Part of me expects to board the boat and find you and my father laughing your arses off at your magnificent, five-year practical joke.”

“But we don’t know if it’s ‘we’, do we?” Joseph said. “I’m still banished. You might be on your own.”

“On my own? No, not after so long.”

“The Black Council doesn’t often let go of a grudge. Why do you think I’ve been preparing you all these years?”

Billy shrugged, the carefree mainland boy, even in the face of courting a queen. A queen who would have to murder her two sister queens, no less. But Billy had grown up on the mainland, with no gifts, and no Goddess. No queens and no Black Council looking down over everything. He had grown up with money, and with power, and with ease, and the struggle of the queens would not be real until he saw it for himself.

“You worry too much, Joseph. My father will work something out. He always does.” He blew warm breath into his cupped hands. “It’s freezing out here. Let’s go into the village and grab a pint before the party tonight.”

 ***************************************************

The walk to the village was short, but Billy insisted on taking the carriage anyway on account of his cold, wet foot. As they were let out near the pub, something in a shop window caught Joseph’s eye.

“What now?” Billy asked, following as he went to press his fingertips to the glass.

It was a ring. A simple, silver ring, set with dark green stones.

Billy leaned close. “That’s nowhere near fine enough to catch the prettiest girl in three counties.”

“Christine Hollen is not the prettiest girl in three counties. She’s only the wealthiest. And I wasn’t thinking of her.”

“Of course you weren’t. This is more to Jules’s taste, then?”

“When it caught the light, from over there…it looked like the color of her green eye.”

Billy leaned back and squinted. “So it does.”

“How would you know?”

“Well, I did have that old cat, with one blue eye and one green—”

Joseph smiled. “Stop comparing Jules to your old deaf cat.”

“I loved that cat. And I’m willing to bet that I remember the shade of that cat’s eyes better than you remember the eyes of some eleven-year-old girl. She might not even have those eyes anymore. They might have,” he wiggled his fingers vaguely, “darkened and whatnot. It’s unnatural for you to have carried on about her this long when you don’t even know what she looks like.”

“I know what she looks like.” Or at least, he thought he did. He remembered so well that girl of five years ago. Her smile. Her clothes. The sound of her voice. And as time passed, and as he grew up, so did the Jules of his imagination. Her hair grew long and tumbled down her back. Her face thinned and her eyes softened. Her laugh changed from the high, wild laugh of a child to the low, easy one of a young woman.

Of course, anyone who knew her family could have told him that the girl he was imagining was really only the image of Jules’s aunt, Caragh, with a dash of her mother Madrigal thrown in as wishful thinking. When Joseph imagined Jules, he simply conjured up the most beautiful girl he could think of, because to him, that’s what she was.

“It’s nearly her birthday. Sixteen, just like the queens. Born in the same month.”

Billy sighed. “The same month as Arsinoe. My bride-to-be.”

“Your queen-to-be.” Joseph watched as Billy’s eyes lost focus, and the blush crept into his cheeks. Billy imagined Arsinoe the way Joseph imagined Jules. Over the years, Joseph had built Arsinoe up, highlighting her virtues: her bravery, her wit, her fierce, affectionate spirit. He may have left out some other things, like that she was stubborn as an old donkey, sarcastic and secretive. And of course he had told him she was beautiful, when he had no idea. When they were children, Arsinoe was just like Jules: dirty and running about, and she had kept her hair very short. Poor Billy. All queens are beautiful, they say, but in Billy’s mind, Arsinoe must look just like Christine Hollen, only with black hair and eyes. And though Joseph does not doubt that she will be lovely, she will not be lovely like that.

“I can’t wait to meet her for real,” Billy said, his voice wistful. Then he straightened, and tugged on his lapels. “Queen or not, one look at me and she’ll faint dead away.”

“From fright?” Joseph laughed, and Billy tugged him back down the street to the pub.

****************************************************

Despite the chilly winter air, the party was warm. It was a dinner party, and so not terribly crowded; certainly not as crowded as the Governor’s holiday ball was bound to be, though that was on more expansive grounds.

Joseph, as usual, stayed back from the dancing, content to stand by himself at the window and imagine what Jules and Arsinoe would make of the mainland dances. The mainland girls in their frilly frocks, with lace at the sleeves and ribbons in their hair. Perhaps he should have warned Billy that Arsinoe would be constantly in trousers. But no. Why ruin the surprise.

“Are you not dancing again, Joseph?”

He did not need to turn to know who that purring voice belonged to, but he did so anyway, to be polite. “I’m afraid dancing has never suited me, Miss Hollen.” Christine Hollen, the Governor’s daughter, stood before him resplendent in green satin that made her blond hair shine like spun gold. Somehow she had managed to get herself alone. Usually she was flanked by a small herd of girls of similar age and social status. Watching them Joseph was reminded of the geese that wandered to and from the pond on the Milone property.

“I could teach you,” Christine said quietly.

“So I could dance at your wedding to Billy?” he asked, and she tossed her head back and laughed.

“Billy Chatworth has not looked at me once since this summer.”

“But he speaks of you often. Just this afternoon he told me you were the prettiest girl in three counties.” She does not blush much at that. No doubt that is a lower number of counties than she is used to. “You know that if he decides not to go abroad, he will pursue you in earnest. And when he does, then I’ll learn to dance.” He excused himself quickly, and ignored her dropped open mouth.

He moved through the rest of the party, making sure to appear to be searching for Billy. If he was idle for one moment, some girl would be upon him, trying to drag him out for a turn on the floor. Room after room and he did not spy Billy; after four rooms he began to search for real. He even poked his head into the drawing room, where the men sat smoking cigars and playing cards. But Billy was nowhere in the house.

“So which girl is also missing,” Joseph muttered as he stepped out onto the porch. The winter air was cold, but still, and an earlier dusting of fresh snow coated the trees and fence posts and made everything soft. Even in the blue light of evening, it was not hard to follow Billy’s footprints.

As he walked, he heard Jules’s voice in his ear like he so often had when they tracked something as children. “Here’s where they started to hurry,” she would have said, and, “here’s where she picked up her dress to stop it dragging in the snow.” They hit a snow drift, and the girl’s prints ended. “Oh, for Goddess’s sake,” he could hear Jules sigh. “Here’s where he picked her up.”

He followed the trail to one of the stables. Not the busy one where the coach drivers were having their own bit of merriment as their horses rested and stayed dry, but the nearly deserted one that housed the horses owned by their host. He opened the door and it creaked, but not before he heard the low laughter and rustling of clothes.

Joseph shook his head. He stomped his feet. He gave them plenty of time to put themselves together before he climbed the ladder into the hayloft, but even then, Billy’s tie was undone and Penny’s dress was askew.

“Joseph!” Billy exclaimed and put his hand to his head in relief. “You gave us a fright!”

“As I should. You’re starting to be missed.” He nodded to Penny, who blushed as she brushed past him.

“Will you—will you make it back to the house all right?” Billy asked, and she paused on the ladder only long enough to glare.

“What are you doing?” Joseph asked when he heard the door open and close again. “Just this afternoon you were dreaming of queens.”

“So I’m practicing.” Billy grinned. “Besides, that festival you keep going on about isn’t for months.” He peered regretfully at the ladder after Penny. “Not terribly gallant, I suppose.”

“Not terribly.”

“I’ll be better. I will.” He threw his arm around Joseph’s shoulder.

“If you ever treat Arsinoe that way…”

“I know, I know, you’ll strike me dead. And I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Joseph clenched his jaw. “Sometimes I don’t know how I expect her to come to love you like I do.”

They walked together back to the house, and upon entering, ran directly into Billy’s father, Mr. Chatworth. Instantly, both boys straightened. Mr. Chatworth was an imposing man, though Joseph could never put his finger on why. He was handsome, but not extremely so, tall, but not towering. It was something in the eyes, perhaps. You always knew that he had the measure of you. That he saw through you, the moment you opened your mouth.

“There you are,” he said, and smiled. “Joseph, I need a moment with my son.” He led Billy without a word up the stairs and into a private office. It did not matter that it was not his house, and not his office. Chatworth did what he wanted, and somehow that earned him respect. Back in Wolf Spring, it would have earned him a punch in the face.

Content to wait, and away from the party at least, Joseph paced slowly at the bottom of the stairs. It seemed a long time before Mr. Chatworth came down again, and smiled at him, and patted his shoulder. Billy followed after, looking a bit dazed.

“What was that about?” Joseph asked.

“He received a letter,” Billy replied, and as he spoke, his face lost its paleness, and his mouth curled into a smile. “From your island. Your banishment has ended early, brother! You’re to go home before the end of the month!”

Joseph could barely breathe. He threw his arms around Billy and they shook each other hard. “I can’t believe it!”

“And that’s not the best part! I’m to come with you, and stay with your family. Get a bit of a head start with the queens.” He punched Joseph in the arm. “I told you my father would figure something out.”

Joseph’s head spun with hopes he had been too afraid to have for the last five years. He was going home. Home to his mother, and father. Home to Matthew and Jonah and Wolf Spring. Home to Jules. And to Arsinoe, with the gift of a fine husband.

Billy reached into his pocket. “And there’s this,” he said, and pulled out a small box. He opened it, and inside was the silver ring that Joseph had admired in the shop window. Even in the dimness of the hall, the green stones glittered. “I doubled back for it when I sent you home ahead.”

“I can’t afford it,” said Joseph, and pushed the box back.

Billy shook his head and placed it in Joseph’s hands. “I’m not going to let you go home with nothing for your girl.” Then he turned him back to the party, his grin wide. “Joseph my friend, we are going to take that island of yours by storm.”

[crownedinmarigolds]

She wasn't his type, he thought to himself as he once again caught himself enamored with the color of her lips.

Yet anothah WIP that I'm just having fun with. Julian on the left is the aboutta-be Ghoul to Noa and (unpictured) Nythanel. They snatch him up in Las Vegas before things go down with the Vegas Chantry and the Rothstein family. He's tall, beautiful, a little stupid, and was just there to party...!

Some fun light story explanation here cause I feel like it! Nythanel is a Thinblood and therefore cannot ghoul or bloodbond on his own - amongst other things Fullbloods can pull but he can't. Noa being a full-blooded Giovanni/Hecata can, and also has the merit that allows contact with your lips to blood bond - though not FULLY ghoul. Nyth needs help, access to blood, a vessel to train for Alchemy reasons, etc. Noa can't drink directly from people due to her family curse (Lamia's Bite) so she relies on Nyth to supply her with blood, so it's the safest bet to have someone Nyth can have around and that would also benefit Noa. They also are currently running on limited resources, or soon will be, so it's also best to have a method to keep someone attached to them without having to spend copious amounts of blood to satisfy them, so Noa's kiss is the way to go! Essentially Noa in this scene Dominates a lone Julian into a single innocuous kiss - she's not a great seductress and doesn't really want to try - which bonds him to her immediately. The next few kisses that will lead to a more severe bond don't take as much Discipline usage. This is the super early nineties at the latest! Jules is a bit of a wet noodle, a lot more beautiful than useful, but he gets the job done. He is much more into Noa due to the bond, but Nyth is who he deals with the most.