just trolled through my City's tag on your blog after so long of aggressively trying not to think about this pAINFUL verse but then I realized how much I missed it so hello I still love u and ur words after all this time always etc
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When you get this, you must publicly post something nice about at least 5 different people you follow, then copy and paste this in each of their ask boxes. Check my blog to see what I said about you!
Honestly why are you making me do this I donât know people hahaha.
Anja - Youâre the sweetest person Iâve probably ever had the pleasure to know. Youâre wholeheartedly kind and such a positive person. I also donât really think you ever swear, which is hella impressive. Youâre kind of an older sister to me and have been for a while, thank you for that.Â
Rosie - Gay as hell. (I was gonna leave it at that but felt bad) Rosieâs my mother, my best friend and boyfriend all at once. Itâs my pleasure to have her in my life as you may have noticed on my tumblr. We come in two. You donât get one without the other.
Mandy - Mands, where do I even begin. Youâre such an honest and upfront person, you donât sugarcoat anything and have a huge tendency to tell it like you see it which I appreciate very much considering Iâm the same. Youâre hilarious and the biggest fan girl (when it comes to musicals) that I know and frankly I have no idea whatâs happening majority of the time but I love you very much.
Maria - Besides from the few times weâve spoken and youâve been very kind youâre that mutual Iâve had for AGES who always reblogs me and vice versa. I always enjoy seeing you on my dashboard, so thatâs great. I even have you on twitter!
And for the fifth, I donât necessarily know anyone else like that so I suppose Iâll simply shout out censwh0re because sheâs hot and posts nice shit.Â
IF U WOULD LIKE SOME UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP E/R I VERY HIGHLY SUGGEST U READ THE "STUPID TERRORIST BOYS" SERIES BY LUCHIA ON AO3 (ASSUMING YOU HAVENT ALREADY) ONE OF THE GREATEST FICS TO EVER EXIST TBQH
I KNOW IT IS ONE ONE MY FAVES IT IS SO GOOD AND HEART-RENDING IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY.
also can I rec this one: http://archiveofourown.org/works/705569?view_adult=true
It's less about e/r (there's a hint of it) but it is delightfully messed up and tragic and amazing and sadly overlooked. It was one of the first fics I read and decided that I could get to like this fandom. (trigger warnings for violence though).
As requested, focuses on E/R's side of things. As with the previous part, absolutely no knowledge of the show is needed (and actually even more so than the previous part). Takes place both prior to and concurrently with The Press Corps.
âMr. President?â
Enjolras blinked up over the rim of his reading glasses at Gavroche, who was standing in the doorway to the Oval Office, and who looked unusually nervous. Since Gavroche had been Enjolrasâs body man since he had âaccidentally joinedâ a high school groupâs tour of the White House and proceeded to impress every single staffer that he met, including Combeferre, the Press Secretary, only to reveal that he was actually a then-homeless high school dropout, it took a lot to make him nervous, which was why Enjolras paused before asking, âWhat is it, Gavroche?â
Gavroche hesitated before saying carefully, âItâs the First Gentleman, sir. Heâs on his way to the Oval Office.â
Enjolras winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. âWhatâs the status?â
âItâs hard to say, sir,â Gavroche hedged. âThere was a lot of swearing involved, and the First Gentleman called you some names that not even I feel comfortable repeating, and I think he might have thrown something at the wall since I thought I heard glass shattering, and--â
âGavroche. Whatâs the status?â
Enjolras winced again. âGet me Combeferre. And thanks.â Gavroche nodded and left and Enjolras sighed and glanced back down at the memo from the State Department that he was supposed to be reading in order to prepare for his security briefing in an hour. He couldnât read a single word of it, not with the knowledge that Grantaire was on his way, and that he was pissed.
It was hard to say if he had any right to be pissed, but Enjolras had learned pretty early on in their relationship that Grantaire pretty much always had a right to pissed.
There was a knock on the door and Combeferre stepped in. âGavroche said you wanted me, sir?â
âThe First Gentleman is on his way. DEFCON 2.â
Combeferre paled. âChrist. Do you want me to do something about it?â
Enjolras waved a dismissive hand. âOf course not. I wanted you to come here to tell me where we are with leaking the contents of my speech tomorrow indicating a shift in policy on Syria.â
Combeferre raised an eyebrow. âI didnât realize you were planning on giving a speech tomorrow indicating a shift in policy on Syria, so Iâd have to say that weâre at exactly no where regarding leaking the contents of said speech.â
âRight. So it looks like youâre just going to have to help me with Grantaire.â
Sighing and rolling his eyes, Combeferre sat down on one of the couches. âI donât know how I let myself get talked into these thingsâŠâ He glanced up at Enjolras. âDEFCON 2, you said?â Enjolras nodded. âBut the last time he was at DEFCON 2âŠâ
He trailed off and Enjolras nodded. âYeah. Exactly.â He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. âMeaning some idiot just told my husband that Iâm running for reelection.â
------ Four Years Ago ------
âGrantaire.â
Grantaire glanced up from his sketchbook, his gaze slightly unfocused, and blinked at Feuilly and Bahorel, who had, at some point in the past few minutes, come into his studio in the brownstone that he and Enjolras owned in the city, and sat down next to him, all without him noticing (though to be fair, when Grantaire was absorbed in a sketch or painting, a nuclear blast could probably occur without him noticing). âCan I help you?â he asked.
Bahorel nodded. âYeah. We wanted to talk with you about your issue.â
Grantaire blinked. âMy...what?â
âYour issue. We were originally thinking the drug and alcohol awareness, given your personal history with the topic. It would bring a humanizing touch to an issue that a majority of Americans think doesnât affect them, despite studies showing that the opposite is true, and drug use, particularly among suburban youth, is on the rise.â
Bahorel said this all in a confident tone that left Grantaire staring at him as if he had grown another head, and Feuilly added, in what he clearly thought was a helpful way, âBut our polling data shows that reminding the public of your history of drug addiction doesnât work to our advantage, so we thought that perhaps a better issue would be partnering with the National Endowment for the Arts and promoting art education in public schools, especially given the amount of school districts forced to cut art from the curriculum because of budget cuts.â
Grantaire stared blankly at Feuilly. âIâm sorry,â he said carefully, âbut I have no clue what the fuck youâre talking about.â
âYour issue,â Feuilly said patiently. âThe First Ladies and Gentlemen have traditionally picked a personal issue to promote and work on during their tenure in the White House, and we were thinking, given your career in the arts, this would be a good stance for you to take early on in the campaign, to let the country know what kind of First Gentleman youâd be, especially given your history.â
Still staring at him, Grantaire asked, âWho the hell is âweâ?â
Bahorel and Feuilly exchanged glances before Bahorel said, a little surprised. âEnjolras for America, of course. Enjolrasâs presidential campaign committee.â
âEnjolras for--â Grantaire cut himself off, inhaling sharply, and stood, his expression completely neutral. âGentlemen, Iâm afraid I must excuse myself. I have to go see my husband.â
He didnât wait for their response, instead marching past them and out of his studio, heading straight for Enjolrasâs office. When they had first purchased this brownstone, back when Enjolras was nothing more than a state senator representing one of the most diverse districts in the state, the four-bedroom home had seemed an extravagance, even if it meant their three children had their own bedrooms. Now, with all three kids grown and out of the house and a condo in the state capitol as well as an apartment in D.C. since Enjolras had been elected US senator, it may have seemed even more of an extravagance, but since Grantaire had turned one bedroom into his studio and Enjolras had turned another into his office, it was well-used despite its size.
But not even a four-bedroom brownstone was enough to contain Grantaireâs wrath as he burst through the door of Enjolrasâs office and snarled, âYou had better have a damn good excuse for this.â
Both Combeferre and Courfeyrac looked up, startled, from where they were sitting across from Enjolras, who just raised an eyebrow at Grantaire and said calmly into the phone he was holding up to his ear, âThank you, Mr. President. Yes, please pass my best on to your wife. Yes, Iâll do the same for my husband. Have a good day, sir.â He hung up the phone and looked innocently up at Grantaire. âIs there a problem?â
âIs there a--â Grantaire cut himself off again, completely furious. âWho was that on the phone? The President of the United States? Was he calling to offer you his support in your upcoming presidential bid?â
Combeferre and Courfeyrac exchanged looks and hastily stood, gathering their papers. âWeâll continue this discussion later, Senator,â Combeferre muttered, and they both quickly left.
Enjolras looked as if he was particularly glad that there was a desk between himself and his husband as he said defensively, âAs a matter of fact, yes, the President was calling to offer me his support and his endorsement in his presidential bid. And I canât see why youâre upset about that because I know for a fact that you voted for the man, so--â
Grantaire let out what sounded suspiciously like a hiss. âYou think Iâm upset because the President is endorsing you?â
âWell, when you put it that way, no probably not,â Enjolras said, holding both his hands up in a placating gesture. âBut honestly Iâm not entirely sure why youâre upset because you knew this was coming. You knew that I had talked about running for president if the time was right, and the party leadership approached me because by their polling numbers, Iâm one of the strongest potential candidates in the field, especially with the Presidentâs endorsement.â
If possible, Grantaire looked even more furious, though his voice was suspiciously quiet as he repeated, âYouâre not entirely sure why Iâm upset?â
Enjolrasâs expression took on the stubborn set it sometimes did when arguing with Grantaire. âNo, Iâm not. You know what this would mean for me. You know how much I would be able to get done while in office, things that have been blocked repeatedly by the legislature. I would be in prime position to address some of the most important issues of our generations that affect millions of people across the globe--â
âDo you think I donât know that?â Grantaire shot back. âOf course this has always been your ambition! Iâve known that since the day you asked me to marry you and I told you it wasnât a good idea politically and you told me that you didnât give a damn, that youâd become president with me at your side or not at all. But--â
âExactly!â Enjolras interrupted. âWith you at my side! Thatâs all Iâve ever wanted, which goes back to why I donât understand why youâre upset! I thought you were on my side with this!â
Grantaire slammed his hands down on Enjolrasâs desk and glared at him. âI am on your side with this!â he shouted, and Enjolras threw his hands up, exasperated.
âThen why are you upset with me?â
âBecause you didnât tell me!â
That caused Enjolras to pause, a frown knitting his brow. âWhat are you talking about?â he asked impatiently. âI just said that youâve known about this for a long time--â
âIâve known about your ambitions, yes,â Grantaire snapped. âWhat I didnât know was that you had made the decision to run for president. That you had put together a campaign committee. That you had received the endorsement of the president. You didnât tell me any of that. I had to find out from Bahorel and Feuilly telling me that my drug addiction history wonât gain us any advantages in your presidential campaign, which I previously did not know existed!â
For a long moment Enjolras just stared at Grantaire, then suddenly his shoulders slumped, and he slowly sat down in his chair. âI didnât tell you,â he said quietly. âI didnât...I didnât even think to tell you.â
Grantaire sat as well, his expression drawn and his eyes dark. âYou didnât,â he acknowledged, just as quiet. âAnd I know one hundred percent, without any question of a doubt, that you can do the job, and as much as I abhor the politics, that doesnât mean I donât understand them -- this is a good political move for you, and I know that. But I donât give a damn about any of that, because you didnât tell me and you didnât think it was important to talk about. You didnât give a second thought to what it would do to me and to us and to our children to have you run for president. Thatâs why Iâm upset.â
Enjolras bowed his head and was silent for a minute before looking back up at Grantaire. âIâm sorry,â he said softly. âYouâre right -- well, youâre partially right. I did think of what it would do to you, and to our kids, but I didnât -- I didnât think to run it by you. I didnât think to ask them. I assumed that you would be fine with it since you knew it was something that I wanted. And I am sorry for that.â
Sighing, Grantaire reached across the desk for Enjolrasâs hand, lacing their fingers together. âI know,â he said, sighing again. âI know -- I objectively realize -- that you didnât mean to hurt me. But that doesnât make it easier. This is a huge decision that will affect at least the next year of our life as you campaign, and the next five at the very least if you win. Our history will be under scrutiny -- my history will be under scrutiny, even more than when you ran for the state legislature or for the Senate. And I canât help but think of what Combeferre told you all those years ago when you told him that you wanted to marry me.â
Enjolrasâs expression became stony. âAs I told Combeferre then and as I will tell any who ask now, our relationship isnât anyoneâs damn business,â he said stubbornly.
Grantaire managed a half-smile. âBut with you running for president, itâs the nationâs business now. And Combeferre wasnât wrong -- marrying me was a bad idea. He didnât mean it personally, I know that as well as you and Iâve never held it against him, but he wasnât wrong. With my history -- Enj, Iâm not meant to be the First Gentleman. Iâm not meant to live in the White House. Iâm a recovering drug addict art school dropout, and I will kill your chances among the more conservative in the party.â
âMy own policies will kill my chances among the more conservative in the party,â Enjolras told him, his jaw set, and he stood and crossed the desk to crouch in front of Grantaire, taking both his hands in his own. âAnd you are not a political bargaining tool, for better or for worse. They can take whatever shots at me they want, but if they go after you, they will kill their own chances. I will make sure of it.â
Grantaire leaned forward and kissed him lightly. âI canât ask you to do that,â he whispered. âItâs not the politically appropriate thing to do.â
âYou abhor politics,â Enjolras reminded him before kissing him back. âAnd youâre not asking me.â Then he rocked back on his heels, his expression serious. âBut I am asking you: will you do this? Will you run with me and let me take this chance? If you say no, I will end this now, I promise you. I will walk away from it all. I have two years left in my senate term and a lot of good I can still do, a lot of good we can still do together. But I want to try, Grantaire. I want to see what I can do as president of this country to make this a nation that stands for something again, for freedom and self-determination of all peoples, not just those we deem similar to us. I want--â
âWould you just shut up and kiss me already?â Grantaire sighed, and Enjolras laughed, but leaned in to do just that, cupping Grantaireâs cheek with his hand and kissing him gently. Then Grantaire pulled back slightly to give Enjolras a mischievous grin. âBut you know, for all your proselytizing, thereâs one thing you havenât yet thought about.â
Enjolras raised an eyebrow at him. âAnd whatâs that?â
Grantaire smirked. âI havenât decided if Iâm voting for you or not yet.â
Enjolras rolled his eyes, but a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. âAnd what, Mr. Grantaire, do I need to do to convince you that I deserve your vote?â
âOh, I can think of a few things,â Grantaire murmured, grabbing Enjolrasâs tie and using it to tug him closer. Enjolrasâs eyes darkened and he pulled Grantaire out of his seat and pushed him back against the desk, kissing him almost hungrily. Grantaire kept a forceful grip on Enjolrasâs tie with one hand, the other tugging at Enjolrasâs shirt, trying to untuck it from his trousers, while Enjolrasâs fingers dug into Grantaireâs hips with an urgent and pressing want.
Grantaire didnât even try to protest when Enjolras lifted him to set him on the edge of his desk, just growled low in his throat and tugged Enjolras closer, his kiss possessive and demanding, and Enjolras responded in kind, pressing against Grantaire, who had finally gotten Enjolrasâs shirt untucked and was just running his hands underneath it when, suddenly, the door to Enjolrasâs office opened and Feuilly poked his head in. âOh, Iâm sorry,â he said, blushing at the sight. âWe, uh, we werenât sure if you were still fighting. Is this a bad time?â
Groaning, Grantaire rested his forehead against Enjolrasâs shoulder. âIs this what the next four years are going to be like?â he asked hoarsely.
Enjolras chuckled, though his voice sounded just as strained as he answered, âWell, I have to win first. And besides, depending on how things go, it could end up being the next eight.â
Grantaire paused, something unreadable in his expression. âIf itâs going to be eight,â he said slowly, âthen weâre going to need to have another conversation. But not right now. When that time comes. Ok?â
âOk,â Enjolras agreed, leaning forward to kiss Grantaire once more before stepping away. âWeâll table it for the moment.â He glanced back at Feuilly. âYou can bring everyone in. Weâre done for the moment.â
Grantaire stood and adjusted his clothing before crossing to the door, where he paused and looked back at Enjolras, smirking again. âYou will win, though. Because if you donât, youâre not the man I married.â He glanced around at Bahorel, Feuilly, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac. âGentlemen, I leave him in your capable hands.â
Then he stepped outside and closed the door behind him, a fierce smile just beginning to sharpen on his face. âFirst Gentleman,â he said quietly to himself. âI could get used to the sound of that.â
------ Present Day ------
âAre you out of your goddamn mind?â Grantaire demanded as he burst into the Oval Office, eyes blazing, fists clenched at his side.
Gavroche trailed after him, looking apologetic. âSir, the First Gentleman is here to see you,â he said, a little lamely, disappearing out of the Oval Office as soon as Enjolras nodded at him, clearly wanting no part in the conversation that was to follow.
Enjolras sighed. âGrantaire--â he started, but Grantaire ignored him.
âWe went over this four years ago, Enjolras, and you promised. If you were going to run for reelection, we were going to talk about it first. But once again, I had to hear it from someone other than you! I would have thought that you had learned your lesson the first time around, but no, for being one of the smartest men in this country, you have apparently learned jack fucking shit.â
âGrantaire,â Enjolras said, a little louder, but Grantaire continued to ignore him.
âAll it takes is three simple words. Just three. Thatâs it: âIâm running againâ. How fucking hard is that? How fucking hard is it to--â
âGrantaire!â Enjolras interrupted, standing up, and Grantaire fell silent, glaring at him. âCheck your phone.â
Grantaireâs eyes narrowed. âIâm sorry?â he said, clearly still seething.
Enjolras stared levelly at him. âI already told you I was running for president again,â he said patiently. âMeaning that you cannot be angry at me for it.â
Grantaire spluttered, his face turning redder than it had been. âWhen did you tell me that?â he demanded.
Glancing up at the ceiling as if seeking divine strength, Enjolras asked, still patiently, âWhen was the last time that you checked your phone?â
Silently, Grantaire fished in his jeans pocket for his cellphone, pulling it out and reading the text out loud that Enjolras had sent him several hours before. âWe need to talk. I think Iâm running for president again.â He was silent for a long moment afterward, then said in a quiet voice, âOh.â
âOh,â Enjolras agreed, though he was smiling slightly. âI mean, you probably still have a right to be mad at me for a lot of things -- I know my proposed budget cut from the NEA, but hopefully you know that wasnât my idea, and of course then thereâs that whole business with Latvia, which I would like to emphasize for the umpteenth time was not fully my fault, and--â
âEnjolras,â Grantaire interrupted. âI donât think now is the time to talk about Latvia.â He held up his phone. âFour more years?â
Enjolras shrugged. âIf youâre with me,â he said quietly. âSame deal still stands as before. You say no, and Iâm out.â
Grantaire cocked his head. âJust like that, huh? Youâre just going to leave power and glory behind at my command?â
âItâs not about power and glory,â Enjolras said hotly, his eyes flashing. âAnd itâs not at your command either. I think thereâs still a lot of work that needs to be done, but Iâm not going to do it without you. Trust me, I did learn my lesson. And I do want this. I just want you to want this, too.â
Grantaire crossed over to him and kissed him gently. âI do want this,â he said quietly, twining his fingers with Enjolrasâs. âFour more years,â he said again, a little regretfully. âYou know what this means, right? Four more years of sex being interrupted by everything from hurricanes to hostages to Gavroche not remembering to knock in the residence.â
Enjolras laughed. âI have to win first,â he reminded him.
Grantaire smirked. âAnd again, if you donât, then youâre not the man I married. And this time, I might actually vote for you.â
âMeaning you didnât vote for me the first time around?â Enjolras asked. Grantaire just grinned and kissed him, and Enjolras kissed him back, his hands dropping to Grantaireâs waist as Grantaire curved against him, his hands flat against Enjolrasâs chest.
Just as their kiss was deepening, Combeferre cleared his throat to remind them from where he was sitting on the couch, âI hate to interrupt, sir, but, uh, Iâm still in here. I can leave, if you wantâŠâ
Enjolras groaned and rested his forehead against Grantaireâs. âPlease leave,â he said grumpily. âI would really like to fuck my husband and I would greatly prefer if you werenât in here for it.â
Combeferre stood and Grantaire snorted. âStay where you are,â he told Combeferre. âIâm not going to fuck Enjolras here. It sends a bad messageâŠor something. Iâm going to take him back to the residence.â He tugged on Enjolrasâs tie, smirking, and Enjolras grinned, starting forward to follow him.
Of course, at that moment, the door to the Oval Office burst open and Bahorel came in. âSir, youâre needed in the Situation Room,â he said seriously, before glancing over at Grantaire, whose smile had soured. âGood evening, sir.â
âBahorel, what would the Secret Service do if I killed you with my bare hands?â Enjolras asked, while Grantaire sighed heavily.
âYou have one hour,â he told Enjolras, though he was talking to Bahorel more than him, and ignoring the pleading look that Enjolras was giving him. âOne hour, and then--â This he directed at Enjolras. â--Then Iâm starting without you.â
Enjolras kissed Grantaire once more and squeezed his hand before following Bahorel out of the room. Grantaire sighed and turned to Combeferre, who looked torn between sympathy and laughter. âFour more years, huh?â Grantaire asked.
âSo it would seem, sir.â
Grantaire cocked his head slightly. âHow will Courfeyrac feel about that?â
Combeferre stood and shrugged. âItâs only four more years,â he said reasonably. âHardly any time at all.â
âThatâs easy for you to say,â Grantaire grumbled. âYou donât have to worry about fucking Courfeyrac with the Secret Service right outside your door.â Combeferre blushed and Grantaire sighed, heading towards the door. âTell the President Iâll be back in the residence when heâs done in the Sit Room. And tell him I was serious -- one hour, or Iâm starting without him.â
âMore than I need to know, sir,â Combeferre called after him, but Grantaire wasnât listening, just whistling off-key to himself as he walked out to the portico.
Then he sighed and put his hands in his pockets. âFour more years,â he sighed, shaking his head. âFor that, Iâm getting started by myself regardless.â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
as a long time fan of you and your writing who also happens to be extremely filipino, i may or may not just have fan girl-ed over "noli me tangere" being part of your bio over there on the left yes hello hi (((i'll stop being creepy now i'm sorry)))
omggggg that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me
a long time fan of you and your writing
thank you thank you i'm so stressed w/ finals and that literally made my entire day, thank you!
i'm sorry to say that the noli me tangere isn't in reference to the filipino book, though!!!
it's because i was raised roman catholic (i don't identify w/ that anymore however) and the mythology of catholicism has always stuck with me, so it's in reference to jesus saying it to mary magdalene. christian/catholic imagery and mythos is really important to me, so that's why it's there. also i tend to casually use it a lot when i'm upset/overwhelmed