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thexfridax · 1 year

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Tell me about it, stud: the rapturous return of the butch lesbian scene

With sold-out club nights from Bristol to Birmingham, a long-marginalised subculture is enjoying a brilliant post-pandemic resurgence

by Ella Braidwood, Wed 8 Mar 2023 10.00 GMT, last modified on Wed 8 Mar 2023 16.44 GMT

I am at a dinner table in south London, in the middle of which sit ceremonially placed items evoking butch culture: a carabiner, a sex harness and an edition of Quim – a lesbian erotic magazine from the late 80s and 90s. It is a Saturday evening in mid-February, and also eating bowls of dal around me are nine regulars from Bristol Butch Bar, set up last spring as a hub for the city’s butch community: among them lesbians, bisexuals, transgender people and non-binary people. I’ve joined them on a “field trip” to the club night Butch, Please! Between us, we have shaved heads, corduroy, jeans, vests, chain necklaces, black trousers, statement shirts and leather.

The butch identity seems to be having a moment. Tonight’s event, as normal, is sold out. “I see about 1,000 people come through a month now – there’s just huge demand for this space,” says Tabs Benjamin, who set up Butch, Please! at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern in 2016. Nights are themed, often with a nod to queer history. This evening there’s a handkerchief code: a discreet way of signalling sexual orientation used by gay men in the 70s who would stuff coloured handkerchiefs in their back pockets.

“There is an absolute resurgence in butch identity, in the sense of belonging and in history as well,” says Joelle Taylor, who in 2021 won the TS Eliot Prize for a poetry collection about butch lesbian subculture. “It’s an exciting time for us,” she adds. “We’re starting to write the histories, memoirs, things that we actually remember.” This year, at least three new books explore butch identity: Hijab Butch Blues by Lamya H; Mrs S by K Patrick; and My Own Worst Enemy by Lily Lindon.

The Bristol butches have an array of handkerchiefs, so I take a navy blue one to signal whether I’m more of a “top” (giver) or a “bottom” (receiver) during sex, depending on if it’s in my left or right pocket. As a butch lesbian who is also “soft butch”, I’d say qualities of my identity include being playful, sensitive and, well, silly. A good example: in the pub, someone deciphers my handkerchief code, only for me to realise I’ve put it in the wrong pocket.

The butch identity is not mainstream, even within the LGBTQ+ community, but things are happening. In March, the Saturday edition of Butch, Please! was started in addition to the existing Thursday night, both once a month. Bristol Butch Bar now gets about 60 people at its monthly meet-ups, where there is an armwrestling league and crafts. “It started off just people we knew, and then it spread to people they knew,” says co-founder Rosie Poebright. Another London club night, Pillow Kings, was set up last autumn, as was Soft Butch in Bristol, both running sold-out events.

In Birmingham, Wile Out, an LGBTQ+ night for people of colour, is popular among studs – an identity embraced by some masculine Black lesbians – alongside events by Urban Slag, On Your Gaydar and, in London, Lick. “I went out expecting a normal night full of drag queens and cheesy pop music, and then I stumbled into the Village, where Wile Out was at that time, and I loved it,” recalls Shan Haywood, a stud. “It’s just nice to have a community of people like myself. I don’t have to walk into the room and be the only Black person there, which is the case in a lot of gay clubs.” Haywood features in a new exhibition in London this month, We/Us, by the butch photographer Roman Manfredi, showcasing portraits and oral histories of working-class butches and studs.

In 2023, the butch identity means different things to different people. For me, a 29-year-old in London, it is the merging of my sexuality with my female masculinity: a physical reflection of how I feel on the inside – that is, inherently masculine – via men’s clothing, short hair and the way I carry myself. It is not that I want to be a man; I love being a woman. But it took me years to say who I am and to look this way. “Butch women and trans women are arguably the people who challenge gender norms in a way that really, really upsets people,” says Benjamin, 37, a self-described “butch dyke”. When I grew up, in Cumbria, butch lesbians were the ‘worst’ of the lesbians, a word I have found hard enough to say in itself: ugly, disgusting and unlovable. We are, I think, still perceived that way by some today.

For Prinx Silver, a drag king and transmasculine person in his mid-30s, “butch is that queer identity that allowed me to reclaim my masculinity that I thought I wasn’t allowed to have. I see it more as a way of moving through the world, of being perceived, or like a feeling.” Cassie Agbehenu, a soft butch and Bristol Butch Bar regular, similarly describes it as a “reclamation of masculinity … it can be caring and nurturing and joyful and sexy”. Taylor, a butch lesbian, says: “I’m 55, I come from a feminist movement, and my whole life has been dedicated to trying to persuade people I’m a woman, because they don’t want me to be one. So that’s where the fight is for me.”

What is the butch aesthetic? Again, it depends. “Sometimes,” says Silver, “I’m a butch stereotype,” so he’ll wear boots and flannel or checked shirts. Other times, it’s a vest with jeans, or a leather jacket, like the butches of the 70s. Haywood, 26, describes her “stud starter kit” as an oversized T-shirt and a hat, though she also enjoys wearing a suit and tie. “I feel comfortable in men’s clothes, and I may wear my hair in a certain way, or carry myself in a certain way – it’s a masculine energy, essentially,” she adds. While short hair is liberating for some butches, it’s not a requirement.

As far as history goes, the butch identity has its roots in working-class lesbian communities, as far back as 1940s and 50s America, who reclaimed the word from its use as a slur, with some women dressing to safely “pass” as men with their more feminine partner. In Britain, masculine lesbians included the writer Radclyffe Hall (1880-1943). Despite being marginalised, butches have been on the frontline: some say that it was the butch lesbian Stormé DeLarverie who threw the first punch in the 1969 Stonewall uprising in New York, kickstarting the modern LGBTQ+ rights movement. “We’ve always been here,” as Benjamin says.

By the 80s and 90s, the butch identity had reached its golden era. In the US, the butch lesbian singer kd lang posed for a cover of Vanity Fair with Cindy Crawford; the Calvin Klein model Jenny Shimizu dated Angelina Jolie; and Leslie Feinberg published Stone Butch Blues, named after another subcategory (“stone butch”). In the UK, the underground butch scene was thriving. Taylor describes a “dykedom”: lesbians moving to squat communities in London and other cities, and to the Greenham Common women’s peace camp in Berkshire. The Camden Lesbian Centre and Black Lesbian Group set up in London, as did Gemma, a support group for disabled lesbians, in 1976. “There was a sense that we were all looking out for each other, that we were connected via squats, we were connected by relationships,” says Taylor. This London scene was immortalised by the 2021 film Rebel Dykes, starring Del LaGrace Volcano, whose The Drag King Book documented the 90s drag king scene.

Events, culture and spaces centring the butch identity appear to be having a ripple effect. It was the combination of a group trip to Butch, Please! last February and a screening of Rebel Dykes that helped inspire Bristol Butch Bar. Silver first went to Butch, Please! while still working out his identity, and now performs there. Social media has also created new ways to be together. “The pandemic did have a part to play in those spaces being taken away,” says Benjamin. “A lot of young people in particular were like: ‘Hang on, we need these spaces.’ So it’s created this surge of enthusiasm and support.”

For Poebright, 42, a genderqueer and transmasculine butch, there are also recent, tragic circumstances behind Bristol Butch Bar. Not long after it was set up, a friend in the community died. “The person we lost was a transmasc, non-binary person, and they were in our group when we first set it up,” Poebright says. “There was a bunch of people that met at the funeral, and it turned out we all had a lot in common, including butchness and butch appreciation. So there was a sort of foundation of realising that we can only just barely survive alone, and needing to make spaces to be together in order just to survive the conditions that we’re in.”

These spaces may, to an outsider, just seem like glitter, bondage gear and, in my case, handkerchief mishaps. And, of course, that’s part of it. Drama and infighting are par for the course; bumping into exes in confined spaces is only to be expected. But for lots of people, whose lives have been reduced to nothing more than a joke or a sexual fetish, these club nights are life-changing. As Haywood puts it: “It’s just what everybody wants, really, isn’t it? To have something they identify with when they’re out.”

#The Guardian #Butch identities #Butch please #UK #Welcome return #of the butch

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mlaura-solointer · 2 years

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🏳️‍🌈Pride month, days 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28

- Pride, last episode, Disney+.

- Semantic error, finished and I loved everything.

- Young royals, eps 2&3, Netflix.

- Bad Buddy, eps from 6 to 10, Youtube. A wonderful series.

- Plus&Minus, eps from 1to8.

- Sky in your heart ep. 4 (weekly episode), Youtube.

- Our flag means death eps from 1to6.

- The Handmaiden, rewatch.

- 8 mini episodes about trans people in Italy on Discovery+.

- Love me gender, 1st episode on Discovery+ - Famiglia (stories about rainbow families, a family with a teenager trans girl, divorced gay dad, 2 dads and 3 children etc), only in Italian.

- Fire Island, Disney+. I don't like sex crazed people who think if you're not getting laid you're a loser. There are people who actually don't wanna shag 24hx7 or ever. That's my ace ass that's speaking. I don't understand oversexed thoughts and actions. Btw, Conrad Ricamora has a wonderful voice. He's amazing.

I had to change my programmed watchlist because I didn't know that some things I picked were too long or I wasn't too interested in watch them. I postponed Gentlemen Jack to July so I can watch peacefully and with the right amount of attention every single episode of s1 and 2. Too many things too watch in few hours were really too much for my brain. I plan to finish Bad Buddy Plus&Minus and OFM and maybe rewatch Portrait of a lady on fire.🏳️‍🌈

#pride month #multiple days #bad buddy #plus & minus #fire island #semantic error #the handmaiden #etc etc etc #watchilist changed

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starrlikesbooks · 3 years

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There are SO MANY good books coming out in June!

There are just some of them! As always, check under the cut for more on each~

Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé is the Black, queer private school thriller you've been clamoring for. (Oh, was that just me?) I'm not sure if this is going to be more like dark academia or marginalized horror, but either way I am in.

The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo is a complete dream for people who read The Great Gatsby in high school and thought "this is cool, but when do we get back to Jordan?", such as myself. This is an adaptation focused on a queer, Asian-American Jordan navigating 1920s America as an "exotic woman" instead of an equal.

The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer might be my favorite book of 2021. After having the phenomenal luck to score and read an advanced copy, I can say that this book is best read with as little prior knowledge about the plot as possible. But what I can say, is it's gays in space! And, my God, so much more. Prepare to feel a lot. And then immediately come message me about it.

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston I also was fortunate enough to get a chance to read already! It's the same fantastic character work and writing as in their debut, Red, White & Royal Blue, but this time with sapphics and time travel loops. This is a cute story with a few nice mystery elements, a great cast of roommates/friends, and so much queer history.

Portrait of a Mirror by A. Natasha Joukovsky caters right to my "I studied English and Theatre in college" self with that basic comedy of manners premise, and my "I will never pass up a good retelling, especially about my boy Narcissus" brain (yeah, that one is niche but true). This honestly just seems like a really fun look at modern mythology with 2 couples getting way too intertwined.

The Witch King by H.E. Edgmon is another one I've already read and loved. The basic premise is that a trans witch (someone doubly shunned in the world they're from) who ran off to the human world years ago gets dragged back by his fae fiancée- the future king of all fae. This book is so fun! Pinballing from meme references to woodsy romance tropes to hesitant espionage, it's impossible not to get roped in and honestly? Why would you not want to!

Future Feeling by Joss Lake is a magical-futuristic story that combines three trans men's lives, after one of them tries to hex the other due to gender/transition envy and accidentally gets another pushed into the shadowlands. This book looks like both a really great conversation about being trans and a genuinely really entertaining story of magic and tech. Plus, three trans protagonists.

Love & Other Natural Disasters by Misa Sugiura I also have already read, and can vouch for being a really nice romance. Zo agrees to fake date the obviously perfect for her Willow to get back at Willow's ex, because she knows how these things work- they'll be together for real before the end of the summer. But real life is messier than romcoms, and maybe Zo isn't so sure what she wants in the first place... If you too love fake dating and love fake dating that gets turned on its head, read this book! Plus, it's full of queer WOC, most of which are Asian-American.

The Marvelous by Claire Kann is like an escape the room meets Willy Wonka, all tied together by tiktok. Intrigued? Confused? Pick up this book! I have already read it, and it's worth it. Golden Weekend is always a mysterious event, never spoken about by former attendees, but this year is different- it's the last one before the creator's retirement. And it seems like she wants to go out with a bang that might take everyone else out with her.

Blood Like Magic by Liselle Sambury is another that might wind up one of my absolute favorites of the year, and another magical-futuristic story. Living just on the edge of society's eyes are communities of Black witches, guided by their ancestors and the special powers they give them once they pass the trial tasked to them. Except, Voya doesn't pass her trial. Now she's got one last chance- kill her first love or doom the family. A hard enough choice without the little snag that she doesn't actually have a first love yet. Enter an experimental dating app and her number one match who she can barely stand talking to. Can she actually fall in love with him? And, more importantly, can she kill him?

The Box in the Woods by Maureen Johnson is the Truly Devious continuation no one expected! Stevie is back, and solving mysteries at summer camp. I absolutely loved Truly Devious and I also happen to love summer camp media, so I'm going nuts thinking about this book. If you love fun mysteries and girl detectives and somehow missed the original series, go binge that! But even if you don't you'll probably enjoy this one by itself.

Violet Ghosts by Leah Thomas I read earlier this year, and is incredibly heavy and possibly triggering. But if you can manage it, it's a genuinely fantastic book! This book follows a teenager whose only friend has been the ghost of a dead girl who believes all men are as terrible as the one who killed her, and whose identity as a trans man is getting harder and harder to ignore.

The Witness for the Dead by Katherine Addison is the companion novel for The Goblin Emperor, and is coming out at a perfect time because I just managed to finally read TGE about a month ago! (And loved it). Not too much is known about the plot of this book, but it's definitely going to have the same fantasy politics and expansive writing from The Goblin Emperor, as well as the character Celehar!

The Bone Way by Holly J. Underhill is an epic fantasy, sapphic retelling of Orpheus and Eurydice. It's no secret that I am both very queer and very into Orpheus and Eurydice so this is a no brainer for me. It's also apparently surprisingly cozy and whimsical, which ties it all together into something I need, and you probably do too.

Gearbreakers by Zoe Hana Mikuta is kind of like an enemies-to-lovers sapphic Pacific Rim. I read this already, and the visuals are amazing. If you like your sci-fi political, your protags POC, and your robots absolutely gigantic, this is your book.

Happy reading!

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kcrabb88 · 3 years

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Queer Movies/Books/TV Shows for Pride Month!

Happy Pride everyone!! For your viewing/reading pleasure I have made a (non-exhaustive) list of queer media that I have enjoyed!

Movies/Documentaries

Pride (2014): An old tried and true favorite, which meets at the intersection of queer and workers’ rights. A group of queer activists support the 1985 miners’ strike in Wales (complete with a sing-through of Bread and Roses + Power in a Union)

Portrait of a Lady on Fire: On an isolated island in Brittany at the end of the eighteenth century, a female painter is obliged to paint a wedding portrait of a young woman (or, two young lesbians fall in love by the sea, and you cry)

God’s Own Country: Young farmer Johnny Saxby numbs his daily frustrations with binge drinking and casual sex, until the arrival of a Romanian migrant worker for lambing season ignites an intense relationship that sets Johnny on a new path (Seriously this movie is GREAT and doesn’t get enough love, watch it! It’s rough but ends happily)

The Half of It: When smart but cash-strapped teen Ellie Chu agrees to write a love letter for a jock, she doesn't expect to become his friend - or fall for his crush (as in she falls for his crush who is another girl. This movie was so good, and really friendship focused!)

Saving Face: A Chinese-American lesbian and her traditionalist mother are reluctant to go public with secret loves that clash against cultural expectations (this is an oldie and a goodie, with a happy ending!)

Moonlight: A young African-American man grapples with his identity and sexuality while experiencing the everyday struggles of childhood, adolescence, and burgeoning adulthood (featuring gay men of color!)

Carol: An aspiring photographer develops an intimate relationship with an older woman in 1950s New York (everyone’s seen this I think, but I couldn’t not have it here)

Milk: The story of Harvey Milk and his struggles as an American gay activist who fought for gay rights and became California's first openly gay elected official (the speech at the end of this made me cry. Warning, of course, for death, if you don’t know about Harvey Milk)

Pride (Hulu Documentary): A six-part documentary series chronicling the fight for LGBTQ civil rights in America (they go by decade from the 50s-2000s, and there is a lot of great trans inclusion in this)

Paris is Burning (Documentary): A 1990s documentary about the African American and Latinx ballroom scene. Available on Youtube!

A New York Christmas Wedding: As her Christmas Eve wedding draws near, Jennifer is visited by an angel and shown what could have been if she hadn't denied her true feelings for her childhood best friend (this movie is SO CUTE. It’s really only nominally a Christmas movie and easily watched anytime. Features an interracial sapphic couple!)

TV Shows

Love, Victor: Victor is a new student at Creekwood High School on his own journey of self-discovery, facing challenges at home, adjusting to a new city, and struggling with his sexual orientation (this is a spin-off of Love, Simon, and it’s very sweet and well done! Featuring a young gay man of color)

Sex Education: A teenage boy with a sex therapist mother teams up with a high school classmate to set up an underground sex therapy clinic at school (this has multiple queer characters, including a featured young Black gay man and also in season 2 there is a side ace character!)

Black Sails: I mean, do I even need to put a summary here? If you follow me you know that Black Sails is full of queer pirates, just queers everywhere.

Gentleman Jack: A dramatization of the life of LGBTQ+ trailblazer, voracious learner and cryptic diarist Anne Lister, who returns to Halifax, West Yorkshire in 1832, determined to transform the fate of her faded ancestral home Shibden Hall (Period drama lesbians!!! A title sequence that will make you gay just by watching!)

Tales of the City (2019): A middle-aged Mary Ann returns to San Francisco and reunites with the eccentric friends she left behind. "Tales of the City" focuses primarily on the people who live in a boardinghouse turned apartment complex owned by Anna Madrigal at 28 Barbary Lane, all of whom quickly become part of what Maupin coined a "logical family". It's no longer a secret that Mrs. Madrigal is transgender. Instead, she is haunted by something from her past that has long been too painful to share (this is based on a book series and it’s got lots of great inter-generational queer relationships!)

The Haunting of Bly Manor: After an au pair’s tragic death, Henry hires a young American nanny to care for his orphaned niece and nephew who reside at Bly Manor with the chef Owen, groundskeeper Jamie and housekeeper, Mrs. Grose (sweet, tender, wonderful lesbians. A bittersweet ending but this show is so so wonderful)

Sense8: A group of people around the world are suddenly linked mentally, and must find a way to survive being hunted by those who see them as a threat to the world's order (queers just EVERYWHERE in this show, of all kinds)

Books

Loveless by Alice Oseman: Georgia has never been in love, never kissed anyone, never even had a crush – but as a fanfic-obsessed romantic she’s sure she’ll find her person one day. This wise, warm and witty story of identity and self-acceptance sees Alice Oseman on towering form as Georgia and her friends discover that true love isn’t limited to romance (don’t be turned off by this title, it’s tongue-in-cheek. This is a book about an aroace college girl discovering herself and centers the importance and power of platonic relationships! I have it on my TBR and have heard great things)

Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters: Reese almost had it all: a loving relationship with Amy, an apartment in New York City, a job she didn't hate. She had scraped together what previous generations of trans women could only dream of: a life of mundane, bourgeois comforts. The only thing missing was a child. But then her girlfriend, Amy, detransitioned and became Ames, and everything fell apart. Now Reese is caught in a self-destructive pattern: avoiding her loneliness by sleeping with married men.Ames isn't happy either. He thought detransitioning to live as a man would make life easier, but that decision cost him his relationship with Reese—and losing her meant losing his only family. Even though their romance is over, he longs to find a way back to her. When Ames's boss and lover, Katrina, reveals that she's pregnant with his baby—and that she's not sure whether she wants to keep it—Ames wonders if this is the chance he's been waiting for. Could the three of them form some kind of unconventional family—and raise the baby together?This provocative debut is about what happens at the emotional, messy, vulnerable corners of womanhood that platitudes and good intentions can't reach. Torrey Peters brilliantly and fearlessly navigates the most dangerous taboos around gender, sex, and relationships, gifting us a thrillingly original, witty, and deeply moving novel (again, don’t be thrown off by the title, it too, is tongue-in-cheek. This book was GREAT, and written by a trans women with a queer-and especially trans--audience in mind)

A Tip for the Hangman by Allison Epstein: A gay Christopher Marlowe, at Cambridge and trying to become England’s best new playwright, finds himself wrapped up in royal espionage schemes while also falling in love (this book is by a Twitter friend of mine, and it is a wonderful historical thriller with a gay man at the center).

Creatures of Will and Temper by Molly Tanzer: a very very queer remix of The Picture of Dorian Gray (which was already quite queer), featuring amazing female characters, a gay Basil, and a much happier ending than the original.

Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston: The gay prince of England and the bisexual, biracial first son of the president fall in love (think an AU of 2016 where a woman becomes president). Featuring a fantastic discovery of bisexuality, ruminations on grief, and just a truly astonishing book. One of my favorites!

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston: For cynical twenty-three-year-old August, moving to New York City is supposed to prove her right: that things like magic and cinematic love stories don’t exist, and the only smart way to go through life is alone. She can’t imagine how waiting tables at a 24-hour pancake diner and moving in with too many weird roommates could possibly change that. And there’s certainly no chance of her subway commute being anything more than a daily trudge through boredom and electrical failures. But then, there’s this gorgeous girl on the train (This is Casey McQuiston’s brand new novel featuring time-travel, queer women, and I absolutely cannot WAIT to read it)

The Heiress by Molly Greely: Set in the Pride and Prejudice universe, this takes on Anne de Bourg (Lady Catherine’s daughter), and makes her queer!

Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters: Nan King, an oyster girl, is captivated by the music hall phenomenon Kitty Butler, a male impersonator extraordinaire treading the boards in Canterbury. Through a friend at the box office, Nan manages to visit all her shows and finally meet her heroine. Soon after, she becomes Kitty's dresser and the two head for the bright lights of Leicester Square where they begin a glittering career as music-hall stars in an all-singing and dancing double act. At the same time, behind closed doors, they admit their attraction to each other and their affair begins (Sarah Waters is the queen of historical lesbians. All of her books are good, and they’re all gay! The Paying Guests is another great one)

(On a side note re: queer books, there are MANY, these are just ones I’ve read more recently. Also there are a lot of indie/self-published writers doing great work writing queer books, so definitely support your local indie authors!)

#I am inevitably forgetting things!!!#These are just ones that came to mind #Long post #Pride

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spocktheestallion · 2 years

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so i’ve been reading about elisabeth vigee le brun, who was marie antoinettes favorite portrait painter….. yeah this woman was GAY. gay asl. known far and wide for overwhelmingly painting women, famous for giving said women seductive, sensual smiles…. also famous for painting NUDE women and women in revealing clothes all the time and a lot of ppl might interpret that as “oh she wasn’t allowed to paint nude men so she fought back by painting nude women! it was a feminist thing!” yeah that was probably a factor but she did not have to give every woman she painted bedroom eyes either that woman was just HORNY. she was marie antoinettes favorite painter and marie reportedly loved her company and was always inviting her to her private apartments (🧐) and to hang out with her inner circles. elisabeth’s work was considered scandalous but one of her big ones was when she showed a portrait of the queen in a super casual simple muslin dress (which marie antoinette was famous for, given the circumstances of her birth she was relatively down to earth and wasn’t a fan of all the wanton spending but ppl hated her cause she was foreign and wasn’t great w french customs so it was very easy for the french nobility to shift the blame blame her whenever the peasants were pissed about starving) and it caused such a scandal that the queen was depicted so casually that they made her take it down and paint a copy but w the queen in a fancier dress. also before this marie adored elisabeth so much that she nagged her husband (THE KING) to pressure the royal academy of art to accept her. only married once to an art dealer to advance her career and escape her abusive stepfather, only had one kid with him and hated his ass cause he kept pocketing her fees and losing all her money, and he’s barely mentioned in any bios of her life/career except as the dick who kept gambling all her money away. she also said she was not physically attracted to him in plain terms and that she hated the idea of marrying (and losing her independence) but she very very reluctantly decided to do it so she could get away from her step father and make some business connections. she took her daughter (and her daughters governess?🤭😳) and skipped france and her deadbeat sperm donor once the revolution started and went to different royal courts continuing to paint sexy ass portraits of elite ladies all across europe and got famous and rich off doing so. the pope tried to get her to paint his picture but asked her to wear a veil for modesty reasons so she told him to go fuck himself she told the pope to go fuck himself and REFUSED the fuckung pope which was a big ass deal back then. it seems like she never forgot marie sugar mommy antoinette though bc she eventually returned back to france and settled in a country home near versailles w her daughter. and a year after she escaped from france she painted a portrait of herself painting marie antoinette. and while most of the court artists of her time were two faced bitches who immediately flipped to the side of the revolution (and the french monarchy was fucking monstrous but they didn’t care about that they were just happy to turn their backs on people they’d called friends to save their asses) elisabeth at least stuck to her guns and defended marie the whole time she was a RIDE OR DIE for marie antoinette (who again i gotta stress actually a pretty cool lady who got fucked over by the french and despite having few real options in her life did her best to be a devoted mother and a kind person to those around her and encouraged the arts and learning). anyway all this to say elisabeth vigee lebrun sounds a lil fruity on paper not to mention she spent at least a page of her memoirs describing how perfect and beautiful and kind and regal marie anoinette was like i’m not kidding there’s a whole paragraph of her waxing poetic on how marie antoinette had such perfect skin that no colors existed with which to capture their freshness and how she’d never seen such beauty in any other woman like miss lizzie was SMITTEN

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spurgie-cousin · 3 years

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WHW Royals Edition 👑 Part 1: Anne, Queen of Great Britain

Born: February 6th, 1665 at St James's Palace, Westminster, Middlesex, England Died: August 1st, 1714 (age 49) at Kensington Palace, Middlesex Reign: March 8th, 1702 - August 1st, 1714

I thought I’d give you guys a little intro to Anne, Queen of Great Britain as a start for my series on weirdo royals. I got big into her after seeing the Yorgos Lanthimos film The Favourite (can’t recommend enough) and that resulted in endless hours of internet wormholes about her bizarre and interesting life. I’ve read about a lot of fucked up royals in my life (truly there’s many) but it was only when I was reading about Anne that I kind of had an ‘a-ha’ moment about how really drastically the monarchial system can fuck a person up.

Queen Anne fits this bill for me for a lot of reason; she was a surprise Queen who was woefully underprepared for ruling, which led to people pushing their political agendas on her under the guise of genuine affection. It’s hard to know if the relationships that define her legacy and life in popular culture were genuine, or if they would’ve existed at all had she not been a royal. Her legacy is muddied by the traditional, patriarchal writers of history of course and it sometimes is hard to get a clear picture of who she really was, but here are a few tidbits about her life and rule:

Anne’s signature

1. Queen Anne was born Anne Stuart, daughter of James II and Anne Hyde and raised in the traditional way for aristocratic girls, with an education that emphasized on arts, language, and music. This eventually proved to suck dick for her big time later on in life when she became queen. Traditionally, girls were purposefully taught nothing useful about politics or history because it was assumed they would never rule (cough) and this left Anne very much lacking in the political discourse department as a monarch; all of her future speeches and even remarks made around political figures would have to be scripted by advisors. If she found herself off script and not knowing what to say, it’s said that she’d sometimes “move only her lips and make as if she said something when in truth no words were uttered.”

2. 8 year old Anne first met friend Sarah Jennings (Churchill) when she was a lady in waiting at just 5 years old. As you’ll see later on, Sarah goes on to be one of the (if not the most) influential person in the Queen’s life, becoming a trusted friend and political advisor.

3. Anne was what we would probably refer to today as a ‘hot mess express’. The poor gal had a myriad of health issues, both mentally and physically, all of which only got worse as she aged. She suffered from gout and an undefined auto-immune disorder (we think) as well as a bizarre eye-watering disorder and poor vision. It’s also pretty evident that she didn’t have the best relationship with alcohol or food and most likely developed a binge eating disorder later in her life (she was very large at the time of her death and there are a few accounts of her eating to the point of puking in front of other people).

4. Besides her relationships with Sarah and Abigail Masham, Queen Anne is also known mostly known for the tragic loss of her 17 pregnancies. Of all her births she had only 5 live babies, only one of which survived beyond infancy. Her son William was also afflicted with various illnesses all of his life and died at the age of 11.

Prince William, Anne’s longest surviving child

5. Anne became queen by accident, after her Catholic father was ousted as king by her protestant brother in-law. He and her sister ruled for a short time before dying of pneumonia and smallpox respectively with no heir in place, so Anne, who supported the protestant reformation, was crowned Queen.

6. Over the years Anne and Sarah Churchill became extremely close friends, and most accounts agree that Sarah had an incredible amount of influence over Anne’s political decisions. Sarah is said to have had a more natural affinity for politics, and to have had a completely opposite disposition than Anne. Some think that Sarah may have maintained the relationship only to keep her political control.

7. A lot of people that believe that Anne and Sarah were so close because they were lovers. The pair at one time wrote each other 4 letters a day, that included things like “I had rather live in a cottage with you than reign empress of the world without you,” “Oh come to me as soon as you can that I may cleave myself to you,” one of Queen Anne’s “I can’t go to bed without seeing you… If you knew in what condition you have made me, I am sure you would pity.” I don’t think I necessarily share that opinion, for reasons you’ll see below.

8. Sarah was the only person under Anne that was allowed to speak to her without using a title. The two often used their nicknames for each other: Mrs. Morley (Anne) and Mrs. Freeman (Sarah).

Sarah Churchill, 1702

9. A lot of scholars disagree with the notion that Anne had any gay affairs with anyone, including Sarah, for a few reasons; first because, at the time, it was just apparently normal to act hella gay with your friends, particularly for royals, so excessive touching or writing wouldn’t have raised any alarms. Most historians attribute this to the extreme separation of the sexes, particularly in upper class households. Most people spent 90% of their time exclusively with people of their own gender, so it was a means to have your emotional needs met within the confines of your station. If an aristocrat started ‘friend flirting’ with you, it was also seen as rude to not reciprocate.

10. A few other reasons Anne was probably not lesbian: she had a pretty good relationship with her husband (Prince George of Denmark), and the 17 pregnancies thing suggests that they weren’t having any problems in the bedroom department. Also, when Anne later became close friends with Sarah’s cousin Abigail, Sarah became jealous and began to spread rumors that the two were gay lovers (more on that below). This rumor probably stuck and carried over into other areas of her life. Or maybe Anne was bi and both things were true, who knows.

Anne circa 1685. All physical descriptions of Anne, especially in her later years, don’t describe her in the most glowing terms, which is insane to think about when I see portraits like this.

11. Anne began to grow distant from Sarah after her husband’s death in 1708, which all sources agree flung the queen into a huge depression. She was said to have sat by and kissed his dead body long after his death. Sarah took a tough love approach to try and snap the queen out of it, which backfired. This was when Anne began to get close to Abigail Masham, which infuriated Sarah.

12. Sarah was so mad at Anne for this that she literally wrote a song about her and Abigail being gay together, printed it out on a pamphlet, and passed it around court Mean Girls-style. The pamphlet read: “When as Queen Anne of great renown / Great Britain’s sceptre swayed / Beside the Church she dearly loved / A dirty chambermaid O Abigail that was her name / She starched and stitched full well / But how she pierced this royal heart / No mortal man can tell However for sweet service done / And causes of great weight / Her royal mistress made her, Oh! / A minister of state Her secretary she was not / Because she could not write / But had the conduct and the care / Of some dark deeds at night.”

13. Besides Sarah, a lot of people took Anne’s relative political ignorance as an invitation to push their own political agendas. It didn’t help that her reign coincided with a rapid development of a 2 party parliamentary system, as the gap between the protestant Whigs and the Catholic Tories began to widen.

14. One of Anne’s crowning political achievements was the 1707 Act of Union uniting England and Scotland under the banner of Great Britain (she had good ideas sometimes, although it’s hard to tell if they came from her or her many influential advisors). Consequently, she was the first ruler to ever rule over united Great Britain.

15. After a series of pretty horrible strokes, poor Anne died at the age of 49 in August of 1714 with no heirs and without reconciling with Sarah Churchill. To her credit, it’s said that despite her failing health she continued to attend cabinet meetings as often as possible until her death. She is buried beside her husband and children in the Henry VII Chapel on the South Aisle of Westminster Abbey.

#weird history wednesday

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mikauzoran · 3 years

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Lukadrien: Among the Wild Things: Chapter Eleven

Read it on AO3: Among the Wild Things: Chapter Eleven: Confrontation

The royal mausoleum was dim and a little dank; the solid stone walls and the flickering torches did little to keep out the dark chill of death.

Adrien led the way down into the crypt where the kings and queens of the past slept underneath the floor tiles and life-size statues in niches along the walls were the chief markers of which tenants rested where.

Luka found himself more than a little unsettled. He was just waiting for one of the statues to move, and he could swear he felt their eyes on him.

Adrien, however, made his way through the tomb seemingly unbothered by the images of his deceased forebearers. He also appeared to know exactly where he was going, quickly heading to the end of the row.

Luka guessed that Adrien had been to visit his mother many times over the years and was well accustomed to the place.

“Maman,” Adrien breathed, voice filled with emotion as he went up to the statue of a lovely young woman posed seated on a stone bench. She smiled tranquilly, her sightless eyes giving off a dreamy quality.

Adrien sank to his knees at her feet, placing his hand on top of her folded ones and resting his head in her lap.

“I missed you,” he whimpered. “It was so hard not even having a picture of you. I was afraid I was going to forget your face just like I’m forgetting your voice.”

Luka bit his lip, tempted to go kneel beside Adrien and wrap his arms around his mate to hold him together. At the same time, though, he didn’t want to interrupt the clearly personal moment.

Before Luka could decide, Adrien regained his composure and rose to his feet, turning his attention to the statue standing behind his mother’s with his hand possessively resting on her shoulder.

Luka had no trouble recognizing King Gabriel from the portrait Adrien had pulled out of the desk drawer in his mother’s room the night before. Surprisingly, Gabriel’s statue didn’t look new. It showed the same wear and weathering as his wife’s, indicating that the King had probably ordered the two made as a pair when the Queen had died.

“Father,” Adrien levelly addressed Gabriel’s imposing image as it scowled severely in judgment. “…I’m sorry that I didn’t say goodbye…. I’ve regretted that, but you made me feel trapped, so I didn’t think I had the option. I had to escape while I could without looking back. I hope you can at least appreciate the decisiveness of my actions.”

Predictably, Gabriel made no reply.

Adrien took a step back with a sigh, now addressing both parents as he continued, “I’m sorry that I was never really the son you’d hoped for. I’m sorry for all the disappointments.”

He then turned to look at Luka, holding out his hand for his husband to come take.

Luka swiftly answered the entreaty, coming to stand by his mate’s side, holding his hand as they presented a united front.

“I think you two always knew I wasn’t interested in women,” Adrien snorted softly. “Maybe you knew even before I did and that’s why you always said disparaging things about people who experience homosexual attraction. Maybe you thought it was some kind of choice I could un-make or an urge I could fight if I were strong enough…but it’s not.”

Luka inched in closer so that his shoulder pressed supportively against Adrien’s.

“I tried,” Adrien pleaded, his voice strained by building tears. “I tried really hard to be the son and heir you wanted. I just couldn’t make myself, quote-unquote, ‘normal’…and I’ve learned now in the past six months that that illusory ‘normal’ doesn’t exist. I don’t have to fix myself,” Adrien asserted, the tears leaving his voice to be replaced by strength and conviction.

“There’s nothing wrong with me that needs fixing. It’s okay to be gay. It’s actually something really beautiful and special…something that makes me me,” he tried to explain as a sad-but-daring-to-hope smile shyly tilted up the corners of his lips. “And I’ve found someone who loves and treasures me just the way I am.”

He nervously smiled at Luka before looking back to his parents’ statues. “Maman, Father…this is Luc…my husband.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesties,” Luka greeted, crossing his left arm over his chest and inclining forward into a slight bow, not really sure what the protocol was for meeting deceased royal in-laws.

“Maman, you would have loved him,” Adrien insisted excitedly, but then his expression sobered, and he amended, tempering his remark, “…at least…I’m sure you would have loved him if you could see past him being fae and married to your son.”

Luka squeezed Adrien’s hand, signaling that he was right there beside Adrien no matter what.

“I hope you would have eventually seen past all that,” Adrien added softly. “He takes good care of me, Maman. He’s a good person, and his love and support help me get a little closer to my full potential and being the person I want to be,” he testified, praying that his assurances would have been enough if she’d still been living.

“I have the kind of love you told me fairy stories about, Maman,” he informed her pleadingly. “Please don’t despise me just because I couldn’t find that kind of happiness with a mortal woman.”

Next, Adrien turned back to his father, a wry smile sliding into place on his lips as he chuckled, “Sometimes you did things that made me think, ‘See? He really does love me after all’. …I know you would never approve of this marriage,” he admitted with a melancholy shake of his head, “but there’s a part of me that hopes that my happiness with a fae man wouldn’t kill that little spark of affection you felt for me.”

With a tearful choke, Adrien retreated into Luka’s arms, burying his face in his mate’s chest. “I guess we’ll never know, though.”

Luka shook his head in disagreement, insisting, “They would have come around. Maybe they would have resented me for a while, and I’m sure they wouldn’t have approved of our union, but, after some time passed, they would see how happy we are together. They wouldn’t be able to begrudge a marriage that made their son happy.”

“I think you’re a bit too naïve, My Love,” Adrien sighed, but Luka’s assertions did make the tears stop. “My world can be cruel and uncaring.”

“Yes, but I refuse to believe that any parents who managed to produce a sweet, compassionate, loving person like you could reject their son because of who he loves,” Luka continued to fight Adrien’s assumptions.

“…Maybe.” Adrien finally allowed the possibility to germinated and take root in his mind. “Maybe they would come around after a while.”

“You’d win them over eventually,” Luka assured, squeezing his beloved tightly, happy to see Adrien through all the ups and downs that came with facing the demons of the life he’d left behind.

Once Adrien regained his composure and bade his goodbyes to his parents, they headed back to the Queen’s chambers where they found Alya and Nino waiting for them, making themselves comfortable in the sitting area of the room on the settee.

“Dri!” Alya trilled in delight when she saw him, scrambling to her feet and dashing across the room to envelope him in a hug that knocked the air out of his lungs.

“It’s good to see you, Alya,” Adrien chuckled as best as he could without the benefit of oxygen. “Thank you for coming.”

She pulled back so that she was at arms’ length, holding him by the biceps to study him better. “Sunshine, you never told me you were the crown prince of the Kingdom of Agreste!” she accused.

Adrien shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. “I mean…you knew I was a prince. I told you that.”

She rolled her hazel eyes and snorted impatiently. “Yeah, but you took Luc for your mate—no offence.”

Luka smiled wryly, lifting and lowering his eyebrows in a manner that clearly stated that he was used to this kind of abuse and didn’t take it to heart.

“I thought you were the prince of some backwater, no-name kingdom,” Alya explained, “but here it turns out that you’re, like, the prince!”

“Technically, he’s the king now,” Luka pointed out helpfully.

A blush of embarrassment sparked to life on Alya’s cheeks, and her lips rounded into an “O” as she remembered the whole reason Adrien had come to the palace in the first place.

“I’m really sorry about your father, by the way,” she offered sheepishly, suddenly feeling bad for the way she’d been gossiping just the day before about the news of King Gabriel’s death and what the kingdom was going to do what with their prince missing.

She remembered the way she’d caught wind of the Queen’s death six years prior and had spent a prodigious amount of time and energy feeding on the conspiracy theories surrounding it. All at once, she felt ill because she’d treated her dear friend’s tragedy as a form of entertainment.

“I’m really sorry, Dri,” she repeated it earnestly, knowing as she squeezed his arm in support that she could never make any of it up to him.

Adrien nodded, looking down at the floor as he whispered a tired, “Thank you.”

Luka and Nino were at his side at once, resting comforting hands on shoulders and giving his hair loving tussles.

A thin smile spread across Adrien’s lips, and he looked back up at Alya with a deep weariness in his eyes. “It’s been difficult, but I’m making it through somehow. Having Luc by my side has been a blessing.”

Alya nodded, feeling awkward and, for once, unsure of what to say.

“But let’s focus on happier things, shall we?” Adrien forced himself to smile wider, trying to inject an air of levity into the conversation. “Did you hear about the wedding and the coronation scheduled for this evening?”

Alya’s eyes lit up, and she latched onto the new topic with unfeigned enthusiasm. “Oh, yes! I was just pumping Nino for information when you came in. It sounds so exciting! The pomp and the ceremony and the big feast afterwards!” She gave a vulpine bark of delight. “I wish I could see it all for myself. I’ve always dreamed of human celebrations like this.”

“You can come,” Adrien informed with a shrug that suggested it was as nothing for him to make her wildest, most cherished dreams come true.

“Really?” She almost stopped breathing.

Adrien nodded and shrugged again. “I’m king. If I say you can come, you can come, and if anyone has a problem with that, they can get over it because my word is literally law,” he assured, taking a heady pleasure in his newfound control. “…I mean, until I can foist the leadership of this kingdom upon someone else, but…”

“I would literally die of happiness,” Alya whined, near tears as she squirmed in excitement.

“Nino will have to chaperon you,” Adrien laid out the conditions.

“I can do that,” Nino gladly volunteered, looking forward to having more time to chat with the interesting fae woman.

“Just for safety,” Adrien explained. “My subjects can be a little…backward…when it comes to issues of embracing diversity. Some of them might be a bit uncomfortable if they knew you were a fox spirit, so I think it’s best if you stay close to Nino so he can help you out and keep you safe.”

“No complaints here!” Alya assured chipperly.

“And we’ll have to see about getting you a suitable dress for the event so that you fit in,” Adrien continued, voicing items of concern as they came to mind. “Nino, could you take her to see Marinette about that?”

Nino gave a snort, shaking his head as he grinned. “Marinette is going to kill you.”

Adrien waved away Nino’s assertion. “Marinette won’t kill me. Marinette loves me. She’s got at least twenty dresses just sitting around that she could make some quick adjustments to for Alya.”

“Marinette is going to kill you,” Luka snickered, imagining the seamstress’s face when Nino arrived with the request from the young king, her eyes bloodshot from working through the night on the coronation/wedding outfits. “She’s going to be livid.”

“It’ll be fine,” Adrien insisted, unconcerned. “I have faith in the supernatural abilities of my Royal Court Seamstress. There’s a reason she’s the youngest person ever to hold the title.”

“There will be shrieking,” Nino chuckled. “She’s going to take me by the shoulders and throttle me in your place.”

“You’ll survive,” Adrien promised with a wink, going over to where the decadent breakfast Alya had brought was spread out on the coffee table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m starving.”

“You’re going to be able to hear the shrieking all the way in town. People are going to think a demon has descended upon the land,” Nino muttered resignedly.

“They already think that about me,” Luka hummed as he followed Adrien over to the sitting area.

Alya arched an eyebrow in confusion. “How could they confuse you with an oni? Have they never seen one before? Don’t they have picture books? Didn’t you tell them you’re a kelpie?”

By the time Adrien and Luka returned from their morning out and sat down to breakfast, the rest of the castle inhabitants were starting to get up and move about, getting on with their day.

Nathalie soon appeared to give them their first briefing of the day, and then it was a flurry of servants and advisors coming in and out, checking about this, asking about that, all working together (or at odds with one another) to prepare for the day’s events.

It reminded Luka of watching his mother in action at a town hall where everyone gathered to make their concerns and desires known. It boggled Luka’s mind how many different decisions Adrien had to make, how many people’s concerns he had to deal with, all the orders there were to give.

Luka wondered if the daily life of a king was always like that or if it were just because of the last-minute nature of the wedding-slash-coronation.

Everyone seemed to be in a rush, and everyone was vying for Adrien’s time and attention.

“I hate you,” Marinette announced as she came in just after noon for a fitting.

“You love me,” Adrien corrected, encircling her in a warm hug.

“No, I really think I hate you,” Marinette snorted, even as she squeezed him back. “I love Alya, however, so I’m definitely keeping her. I’m not so sure about you.”

“Were you able to find a dress that could be modified for her?” Adrien inquired as they pulled apart and Marinette went to the rack she had brought in to get the garments for Luka and Adrien to try on.

“Yes, I actually have a gorgeous orange dress that’s going to look ravishing on her. I did the measurements and marked it up for alterations. Manon’s working on it now,” Marinette informed.

“Nino’s going to faint when he sees her,” Luka hummed happily. He had been pleased with the chemistry between them that he had witnessed during breakfast, and he had high expectations for Alya in formalwear.

“Are you shipping them now?” Adrien snickered as he accepted the garment bag from Marinette.

“Nino is a good man; he deserves happiness, and I think Alya could be a good fit,” Luka replied with an innocent shrug, as if he weren’t actively scheming to get them together.

“I’m in favor of this pairing,” Marinette reported. “Nino’s been a mopey mess since you’ve been gone, leaving him with no one to moon over. If you’re going to be going back home to the fair folk before long, it would be nice if he had someone to take a romantic interest in so that he didn’t feel so lonely.”

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed, feeling guilty. “It would be nice if he had someone. I don’t want him to feel left out, especially now that both of us are going to have partners.”

“He’ll find the right person in time,” Marinette tried to assure with an encouraging smile. “Nino is a great guy; he’s bound to find love…so go on and try your suit out, and don’t worry so much about Nino.”

Adrien nodded, going behind the screen to change.

Luka nearly overheated when Adrien came out wearing a three-piece suit. The jacket was a long, royal blue tailcoat with striking silver embroidery tastefully done down the front of the jacket and around the sleeves. White pants and an ascot completed the look, and, as much as Luka loved his husband in his everyday clothes, Luka found that expensive clothing really suited Adrien.

“I think he’s speechless,” Adrien chuckled, running a hand through his hair, mussing it up. “Excellent job, Marinette.”

“I don’t know if I can really take the credit,” Marinette snickered. “My suit wouldn’t be half as stunning if you weren’t smoking hot.”

“True,” Adrien laughed, giving a spin to make the coattails fan out.

Luka gulped.

“All right.” Marinette gave Luka a clap on the back as she pushed a second garment bag into Luka’s arms. “Your turn, if you think you can walk.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Luka cleared his throat and held the garment bag in front of himself to preserve his modesty as he slunk uncomfortably across the room to the changing screen.

His own outfit was nearly identical to Adrien’s saving for the colour scheme which was inversed. Luka’s jacket and vest were white while his pants, ascot, and the embroidery on his jacket were a beautiful blue to match Adrien.

“If you need help putting anything on, just ask,” Marinette called out helpfully. “I’ve dressed plenty of people in my line of work, so you won’t scandalize me or anything. Most nobles have people who dress them, so it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m good, but thank you very much,” Luka assured as he fought a little with the innumerable buttons.

When he was content that he looked presentable, he stepped out from behind the screen and was more than satisfied with the effect his appearance had on his mate.

Adrien’s eyes dilated, and his mouth dropped open slightly as a hearty blush spread across the bridge of his nose from one cheek to the other.

Luka zeroed in on Adrien’s throat as he swallowed hard.

“Marinette, if you don’t mind, I think I need half an hour alone with my husband to discuss important marriage stuff,” Adrien informed as he strode across the room, grabbed Luka, and dipped him into a hungry kiss.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Marinette protested with an exasperated huff, watching futilely as Adrien pulled Luka back up only to escort him over to the bed (stealing breathy kisses the whole way) and push Luka down onto it.

“Adrien, I swear, if you harm so much as a button on those outfits, I will assassinate you myself,” she growled, lamenting the fact that she had done too good of a job making both grooms look incredibly handsome.

“I love you, Marinette, but get out,” Adrien hummed happily. “That’s an order.”

Stewing and clenching her fists and jaw, Marinette stormed towards the exit, threatening over her shoulder, “Don’t you dare rip his clothes off with your teeth, Adrien! I will kill you. Take them off like civilized people and hang them up on the rack in their bags. Then copulate like bunnies. I don’t care, but don’t you dare—”

Marinette nearly got hit by the door as Nathalie entered the room.

“—Oh! Lady Sancoeur! I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.” Marinette hastened to curtsy.

Adrien rolled off of Luka with a startled yelp, looking very much like a chastened schoolboy caught by his mother.

“…Am I interrupting?” Nathalie inquired blandly, her eyebrow arching upwards.

“Marinette was just making sure our clothes fit for the ceremony,” Adrien explained sheepishly.

Luka—who had been inoculated to this brand of embarrassment by being walked in on by or walking in himself on his mother, Rose, and Juleka—tried to stifle his laughter and an amused grin with varying degrees of success.

Adrien was adorable as he blushed and fidgeted nervously.

Luka leaned in and pressed a comforting kiss to his temple. “Everything seems to fit wonderfully, so we were just about to change back into our regular clothes until it gets closer to time for the ceremony,” Luka added to lend Adrien’s story credibility. “Marinette is truly amazing to have completed such a daunting task so quickly and so well. I’m extremely impressed.”

“Oh, well,” Marinette laughed bashfully, breaking out into a wide grin of pleasure at his lavish praises. “I couldn’t have done it without the help of my team. I’m very lucky to work with many talented people I can trust implicitly.”

“And we’re very lucky to have you to lead them,” Nathalie added, nodding her approval (a rare commodity).

Then, Nathalie was back to business, getting to the point. “The rings have just arrived from the jeweler, and we need to make sure they fit and meet with your approval so that there’s enough time to make corrections, if there are issues.”

“Oh. Right,” Adrien responded as one coming out of a reverie. He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips as he got up and came over to inspect the rings which Nathalie had fished out of little satin bags.

“Sorry. I know we talked about getting rings for the ceremony this morning, but…” He nervously began to twist the ring Luka had made for him around his finger.

It didn’t feel right to replace it or even to take it off. His subjects might not consider the ceremony that Anarka had officiated at or the private rituals Luka and Adrien had exchanged in their room that first day they committed themselves to one another to be legitimate or legally binding, but Adrien did.

The makeshift ring Luka had placed on Adrien’s finger that day was a real wedding ring to him, and it felt wrong to renounce it like this.

Luka came up behind Adrien, wrapping his arms around him to give him a supportive squeeze. “It’s okay, My Love,” he assured, gingerly taking Adrien’s hand and slipping off the ring, moving it over to the ring finger of Adrien’s right hand. “It doesn’t really matter which finger it’s on, does it? Isn’t the important thing that I put it there?”

Adrien hummed thoughtfully, studying the effect of this new placement.

“…Yeah,” he finally sighed, nodding decisively. “I guess you’re right, but this is only for the ceremony. Tonight, we’re switching them back. My real wedding ring gets pride of place.”

“As you wish,” Luka easily agreed, letting Adrien switch Luka’s ring from his left hand to his right as well so that they could try on the new rings.

Luka reached out for the one that Nathalie indicated was Adrien’s but then stopped, looking uncertainly at the advisor. “I remembered to tell you about my iron allergy…right?”

Nathalie gave him the vaguest hint of a smile as she assured, “You did, and I triple checked with the jeweler, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Thank you.” Luka smiled nervously as he hesitantly picked up the ring, poking it with the tip of one finger first to test it before taking hold of it with confidence.

Both of the rings fit comfortably, and the fitting ended without incident.

Marinette finished inspecting both outfits and identified small details that could be improved while Nathalie gave the boys what felt like their dozenth briefing of the day.

Even after Nathalie and Marinette were both satisfied and left, that didn’t end the whirlwind of people coming in and out of the Queen’s chambers, needing Adrien’s approval or input on this or that.

Luka felt like he barely had time to breathe as the day quickly slipped away and, suddenly, it was time for the ceremony.

#Lukadrien #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Nino Lahiffe #Alya Césaire #Gabriel Agreste #Émilie Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Hurt/Comfort #Found Family #Fluff #Mikau's Writings #Among the Wild Things

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goldencuffs · 4 years

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fake dating au part two

Whenever Laurent was overwhelmed, or feeling the kind of loneliness even a good cock couldn’t cure, he would sneak off into the library in the north wing of the Palace, where most of his mother’s official portraits were displayed.

Laurent loved all of them; Hennike was smiling in every single one, blonde hair curled perfectly, and teeth a stunning white. The colouring of her gowns and crowns were so bright, even painted, they seemed to shine in the dullest light. Laurent didn’t really know her; she had died three days after giving birth to him, but he had watched so many interviews and home videos of her, he felt like he had. She had been beautiful, well spoken, and everyone had been shocked when she had fallen for Al, because she had been betrothed to someone else.

Laurent liked coming down here to talk to her. It helped to have her listen to his dramatic tirades. He had started doing it when he was thirteen, when Auguste had enlisted in military training and left him alone, but had stopped a few months later, when Al caught him, his face ashen as he’d watched his youngest son babble to his dead wife.

After that, Laurent made sure to only come down in the dead of night, when he was absolutely desperate.

Which was clearly now; Laurent’s head had been spinning since the dinner at Heston’s. Even dessert hadn’t cheered him up — Heston, the absolute cretin, had served only four options of dessert and not a single one had chocolate in them. Not even one! It was like people intentionally went out of their way to put Laurent in a foul mood. Laurent had already drafted a wordy letter about Heston’s appalling lack of class and hosting abilities on the way home, and he was going to send it to the local tabloid first thing in the morning.

Laurent paced around the library, addressing his favourite portrait of his mother. It was her wedding portrait, and he loved all the detailing in it. The blush pink flowers in her bouquet matched her lipstick and her blush, and the tiara she was wearing had 588 diamonds in it. It was called The Laurent Tiara, and when Laurent had found out it had been Hennike’s favourite crown, he’d cried into his pillowcase for an embarrassingly long time.

“If I tell Al the truth now, he’ll kill me,” Laurent wailed at an appropriately low volume; he was very considerate of the sleeping guards when he threw his tantrums. “Or worse — get me married! Oh god, he’ll set me up with that idiot Torveld and I’ll have to spend the rest of my life hearing about his coin collection. Who even uses cash anymore? And what exactly is the point of having money if you can’t use it? And has Al even considered the aesthetics of our coupling? How are we supposed to wear matching outfits if Torveld looks rubbish in Egyptian blue and azure? Hello! Those are my signature colours!” Laurent sunk down on the lumpy sofa and buried his head in his hands. “Maybe death really is the better option.” He looked up at Hennike’s green eyes. “Is heaven overrated? Where would you personally place it on a scale of one to ten?”

She didn’t answer him, obviously. It was no use, anyway; Laurent was definitely not getting into heaven.

Laurent woke up irritated and unrested, and not for his usual, fun reasons. He hadn’t come up with any sort of solution to his dilemma and he had had a very strange dream where Damianos punched him while Al watched on. Then the scene had changed, and Laurent was on stage accepting his tenth Oscar for Best Actor, even though he had yet to star in any films.

“I’m thinking of becoming an actor,” Laurent told Al later that night during dinner.

Al’s eyes narrowed and his mouth became a sharp line. “What?”

“I mean, I have the looks, obviously. And really, how hard is acting anyway? Clearly you don’t even need to be very good at it to star in a movie — look at Channing Tatum. I’m sorry, but it’s very obvious his height was the only thing that got him into Hollywood, and even then it’s not that impressive.”

Al put down his knife and fork. “Can we —” He sounded very strained, “have a normal conversation for once.”

Laurent considered this. “I don’t think we’ve had enough conversations to statistically find out what constitutes a normal one,” he said. Al went red, so he continued, “So you don’t think acting is for me? Shall I try directing then? Or maybe —” He sat up excitedly in his chair. “I could write movies! I have so many ideas! Why, for instance, has no one considered a gay version of The Princess Bride? What would that even be called? The Prince Groom? Ugh, no, that’s terrible. Oh, who am I kidding — with my face and my body I have no choice but to be on camera. Otherwise, it’d be such a waste.”

The vein in Al’s forehead was throbbing. If he had been wearing his crown, it would have gone unnoticed, but like this, it was rather unflattering.

Al said, “Laurent,” in a sombre tone. “I really hope you’re joking.”

“About The Prince Groom? Kind of. But the acting thing — would it really be that bad?”

“You are a prince,” Al said, teeth clenched. “If it is the glam and glitz you want, you have more than enough here.”

Laurent, uncomfortably, thought of his room, the only place in the Palace that was truly his, devoid completely of personal artefacts. He swallowed. “Yes, well.” He tried a smile. “Maybe I should borrow another crown from the royal archives. I don’t think I’ve worn one with emeralds yet.”

Al resumed eating. “Speaking of crowns,” he said, completely glossing over Laurent’s last statement. “I’d like you to wear the Crown of Naos when King Damianos arrives.”

Laurent’s mouth dropped open. “As if! Al, the gold colouring on that completely washes me out! Not to mention the fact that that thing weighs like, five kilograms!”

Al’s nostrils flared at the word Al. He said, “The crown is a gift from Damianos’ great great grandfather to yours. It will be an appropriate and symbolic gesture if you wear it.”

“But why can’t you wear it? Or Auguste?”

“I am not the one having an affair with the King of Akielos,” said Al.

Oh, right. Laurent had forgotten about that. But what was the point? It wasn’t as though Damianos would recognise the gesture. If anything, he might think of it as inappropriate.

Instead he said, “Well, gee, Al, I didn’t peg you as a romantic.” Laurent fluttered his lashes a little.

Al pushed away his plate. “I’m done, thank you.” A servant immediately came to clear away his food.

Al left the dining hall, his shoulders tight. Laurent wished Auguste would hurry back home already.

In the morning, on the way back from the stables, Jord said, “Looks like your wish came true.”

Laurent stopped dead. “Oh my god — is Pierre-Alexis Dumas here? Is he finally going to collab with me?”

“Who’s Pierre-Alexis Dumas?” said Jord.

Laurent whirled on him. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Sorry.” Jord said, not sounding the slightest bit sorry. The audacity! “But look.” He pointed past Laurent, to the front of the Palace.

Laurent looked. There was a nondescript black limousine parked on the long, gravel pathway. Laurent would have dismissed it, if he didn’t spot sight of Jeurre, Auguste’s chauffeur, leant up against one of the doors, smoking.

Laurent gasped. He passed on his bridle to Jord, who fumbled to catch it, and ran inside.

Auguste and Al were in the plate room. Al was sitting on the large, velvet throne, a glass of whiskey in his hand. It wasn’t even noon! And he was baring his teeth in that weird way — smiling, as he called it.

Auguste was standing in front of him, hands behind his back. He had gotten very tan, and his hair was much darker, a strange golden colour that made the blue-green of his eyes more appealing.

They both turned when Laurent entered. Al’s mouth was already drooping at the sight of him, but Laurent only had eyes for his brother, whom he hadn’t seen in eight whole months.

Laurent wanted to hug him, which surprised even himself. Laurent was not a hugger. He wasn’t much of a toucher, either, unless it involved getting laid.

Auguste gave him a nod. He sometimes acted so much like Al, it disgusted Laurent; the only difference was that Auguste’s eyes were always kind.

Laurent peered at him closely, shocked. “What have you done to yourself? Are you having a mid-life crisis? Should we call Paschal for a yearly psych evaluation?”

Auguste laughed. “It’s a moustache, Laurent. It’s very fashionable in Kempt, you know.”

“It’s horrendous!” Laurent cried. He stared at the thick hair above Auguste’s top lip in horror. “Right. I’m officially ruling Kempt out as a holiday destination this summer if all the men are growing that.”

Al’s eyebrows furrowed. “I like it. It’s very refined.”

“Oh god, now we have to get rid of it,” said Laurent, which made Al frown and Auguste laugh. Auguste squeezed Laurent’s shoulder. He was always mindful of Laurent’s boundaries. “I think you’ve grown taller.”

“I haven’t,” Laurent said. He showed off his riding boots. “See? It’s three inches of heel.”

“Very impractical,” Al said under his breath, which was not a very Kingly thing to do.

Auguste was still smiling. “I like it. It matches the piping of your coat.”

“Yes, exactly!” Laurent was so happy in that moment, he leant forward and hugged Auguste. It was very short, but Auguste looked so pleased afterwards, Laurent wished he had prolonged it.

“Did you get me anything?” he asked, to cover the embarrassment following his sudden burst of affection.

Auguste raised an eyebrow. “I’m hurt, Laurent. You’re not going to ask me about my classes or my rather excellent Anthropology professor?”

Laurent scrunched up his face. “Are you stalling because you didn’t get me anything?”

Auguste smiled. “There’s about fifty boxes of Grand Cru chocolate in your bedroom.”

Laurent’s sound of ecstasy was too loud; Al spilled some of his whiskey onto his pants. Auguste clapped him on the back in commiseration.

As the servants laid out a small meal — roses of smoked salmon on cucumber slices, macaroons, thin slices of cured meat and cheese, crunchy shrimp salad on crusty rolls, grapes and strawberries and mango and pineapple, individual strawberry shortcakes, that kind of thing — Auguste said, “Father tells me you’re having an affair with the King of Akielos.” He said it casually enough, but Laurent could see he wasn’t thrilled about the idea.

Laurent swallowed his last bite of sandwich and placed a hand on his heart. “Al! You should know better than to gossip, shame on you!”

Al just sighed, a long, suffering sound, and Auguste glared openly at him. “I thought you promised to stop disrespecting Father like that.”

Laurent’s stomach pooled with an uncomfortable tightness. Being told off by Auguste somehow was always worse than being told off by Al.

“Fine,” Laurent said shortly. He said to Al: “Oh dearest Father, Papa, Your Majesty, light of my life, the man who impregnated Queen Hennike, so I, your glorious creation, could be born to bring some joy to this bleak, bleak world: stop gossiping immediately.”

There was a very long pause. Then Auguste laughed. “You are such a shit.”

Al sighed again. “He’s becoming more and more insolent by the day.”

“Thank you so much,” Laurent said, wiping away an imaginary tear.

Auguste barked another laugh. Al sipped more whiskey; a very good sign. Laurent was going to take advantage of this; he wanted a new watch.

Auguste continued his questioning a few minutes later. “So. You and the King — it’s true?”

Laurent flapped a hand. “Oh, you know how it is. He saw those pictures of me from Aimeric’s birthday party where I wore those silk shorts that were just long enough to be tasteful and the poor darling had absolutely no choice but to slide into my DMs and woo me.”

“What’s a DM?” asked Al, and if the question had come from anyone else, Laurent would have found it adorable. He probably would have tweeted it as well.

“Texting,” Auguste said. He seemed contemplative. “Aimeric’s birthday — from last September? It’s been a bit more than a year.”

“Yes,” said Laurent. He tried to say it as wistfully as possible. “He bought me a Ferrarri.”

“Really?” Auguste sounded impressed. “The 1954?”

Laurent grinned. “Do you want to drive it?”

“Fuck yeah,” Auguste said, then quickly cleared his throat and looked at their father. “I mean, yes. Perhaps later in the afternoon.”

Al shook his head, but he didn’t say anything for the rest of the meal. Well, he didn’t say anything to Laurent. He really was in a good mood.

Having Auguste back had Laurent so distracted it wasn’t until a few days later that he realised how frantically the staff were cleaning the floors and walls and painting frames.

In fact, he became so relaxed doing less than nothing all day, since Al was too busy doing this and that, or fawning over Auguste, he didn’t comprehend why the chefs needed fifty boars delivered fresh on Friday morning, until Al told him before their weekly Council, “I want you to wear your red high neck blouse tomorrow.”

“Why?” Laurent asked, checking for any fine lines in the shine of the armour of one of the propped knights in the hallway.

“It is the colour of the Akielos banner. I am trying to seem as diplomatic as possible.”

Laurent went very, very still. With dawning horror, he said, “The — Damianos is coming tomorrow?”

Al’s expression turned thunderous. “Do not waste my time asking stupid questions, Laurent. You know how much I despise it.”

Laurent’s eyes widened. “Oh no,” he said quietly, real fear settling into his bones. Damianos was going to murder him tomorrow. He would need to get a facial tonight, to ensure he was the most beautiful corpse the human eye had seen. And then something much more horrific occurred to him. “Wait! I can’t wear the red high neck with the Crown of Naos! Those colours completely clash!”

Al seemed to age a few centuries in a blink of an eye. With a shake of his head, he walked into the Chambers, leaving Laurent alone in the hallway.

Laurent frowned. One of these days, he was going to be the one storming out. It was only fair.

Things only got worse.

Laurent’s last minute facial broke him out, so he threatened to sue and smashed one of their stupid reclining chairs.

Laurent had honestly thought that was going to be the worst of it; the pimple along his jawline was easy to cover up once he got the local dermatologist to inject something in it.

But on the morning of Damianos’ arrival, Laurent was in a terrible mood. He hadn’t slept at all, worried about his pimple, his horrible outfit, and the fact that a man who was the size of a small house — Google said Damianos was 6’6”, but he was definitely way more, no arguments — was going to viciously kill him.

“Hurry up,” Laurent snapped at the servant dressing him, who had been pulling too sharply at his laces for the last six minutes.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he answered meekly, and continued fumbling about.

When a few more minutes passed, Laurent looked down at him. “Okay, seriously, this is ridiculous. You usually get me dressed in ten minutes or less. What is the problem?”

“I —” The servant looked like he was on the verge of tears. “Your Highness, the laces — I can’t do them up. It’s uh — it’s too tight.”

“What do you mean?” Laurent asked, narrowing his eyes. “This fit perfectly a month ago.”

“Yes, well —” And his eyes slid over to the bed, where an empty, open box of chocolates was stacked against many other empty boxes of chocolate.

Laurent saw red.

It took three guards and then Jord and Lazar to keep Laurent restrained enough to not kill him. In the end, he yelled until his throat was hoarse and the servant broke down, running out the room with his face covered in tears.

Afterwards, Laurent attempted to do up the laces himself, because he was not fat, and he definitely had not gained weight; he was svelte and sexy and desirable.

In the end, he could only do his trousers up, and only just. If he let out a particularly deep exhale… well, breathing was overrated anyway, Laurent had always thought so.

“Oh, forget it!” Laurent howled, miserable and on the verge of tears himself. “I look ridiculous.”

“No, you don’t, Your Highness,” Jord assured quickly. Too quickly.

Laurent glanced at himself in the mirror. His ass was practically suffocated in these trousers — and that was his best feature! He ran a hand down it forlornly. “It’s too tight.”

Jord’s eyes followed his hand with avid interest. He was drooling.

“Could be tighter,” said Lazar, leaning against the bedpost.

Laurent flung himself on the bed. “No it couldn’t. I need to lose about three kilograms in the next —” He checked the clock, “half an hour. Oh god. Just tell Al I died. It’ll make his day, go on.”

“Orgasms help with weight loss,” said Lazar. “I could fuck your face.”

Laurent sniffed “Don’t be so stupid.” He looked at the clock again. “Obviously, riding you will help me lose more calories. Both of you get on the bed, quick.”

Laurent did not lose three kilograms in half an hour. As enjoyable as the sex had been, it had only made him tired and anxious.

Jord suggested that Laurent should just let the laces at the back trail, and cover it up with a coat, even though it was far too hot in the year to wear one. Laurent obliged anyway, knowing how difficult Al would be if he showed up wearing undiplomatic colours. He changed his trousers into a different pair, making sure it had an elastic waistband to stretch accommodatingly.

When the crown was placed on his head, he staggered a little. It really was unnecessarily heavy. His great great grandfather must have had a head the size of a watermelon.

Laurent walked unsteadily down the hall, towards the Palace steps where Auguste and Al were already waiting. His insides became so twisted with the thought of seeing Damianos, he had to make a detour and hide behind a tapestry to have a panic, but only a little one.

Outside, the sun was blazing. Auguste clapped him on the back in greeting, and Laurent winced, the material of his blouse sticking to his armpits. Al’s lips curled at his outfit, but Laurent couldn’t care. He hoped he looked beautiful enough — just enough — so Damianos would reconsider his murder. At the very least, Laurent hoped nothing happened to his face.

“Alright?” said Auguste. “You’re sweating.”

“Shut up,” said Laurent, mortified. He was a prince; he did not sweat.

Auguste’s response was cut off by the sound of the gates opening and rolling tires on gravel. Laurent’s heart was in his ears; he swallowed, but it made him feel more sick.

The sleek, black car was parked in the driveway. Several seconds later, Damianos stepped out, tall and handsome.

Laurent whimpered. It was one thing to see photos of Damianos on the internet, walking briskly down the street or shaking hands with Al, and it was another thing entirely to see him in the flesh as he walked down their driveway.

He was so tall. And he was built like a tree; all thick arms and chest and thighs. Laurent had such a weakness for thighs, they were really the best part of a man’s body, how they framed the groin and the cock and —

Laurent realised, suddenly, that he had not prepared at all for how he was going to greet Damianos.

Lovers kissed each other, yes? Laurent didn’t think he could do that without being punched but god, would Al think it was weird if he didn’t at least attempt to kiss Damianos? Maybe he could pretend to suddenly be shy, too coy to look into Damianos’ eyes in front of everyone — yes, yes that sounded perfect.

Damianos came up the stairs, smile wide and straight. His teeth were amazing. Were they fake? Laurent didn’t think so; he ran his tongue over his own, nervous, heart still thumping in his ears.

He greeted Al first. Laurent’s head was spinning. What if Al said something? What if Auguste did? What if Damianos said something that alluded to the fact that this was technically, the first time he and Laurent would be speaking to another?

And then Laurent couldn’t think of anything else, because Damianos was standing right in front of him.

He reached out, one large, dark hand to shake Laurent’s. Laurent staggered forward, into his chest, and closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, Laurent saw the most beautiful angel.

“Wow, you’re hot.” Laurent poked a very hard, very strong bicep. “Heaven’s pretty cool.” He was dead, obviously, because people this good looking didn’t exist in the mortal world.

“You’re not dead, Laurent. Can you sit up?”

Laurent thought about it. He wasn’t dead? That was good news. But he felt like he was dead because he couldn’t move his body at all.

“Here, can you follow my finger?”

“Hmm.” Laurent said and stared unblinkingly at what he assumed was a finger. It was quite blurry.

“I think he’s concussed.”

Laurent giggled. The stranger’s accent made it sound like he had said cock-cussed. It made Laurent want to suck cock.

He said, “If I’m not dead, I’d like to be. Jord, get me my blue Prada scarf. I want to be buried in it. Lazar, get your gun out.”

“He doesn’t seem concussed.” That was Al. The compulsion to die was suddenly much stronger.

“We should take him to the hospital,” the hot angel said. Laurent was in love.

He said as much: “I really love you,” he told the blurry figure. Then he rolled over onto his side and threw up.

#captive prince #im going to see if its worth posting on tumblr and ao3 dont mind me #fake dating au #damen x laurent #my writing #my fic #queue

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haltandcatchfiretothemax · 3 years

Text

FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2021 #10: In which Cameron tries to spoil Donna

[CN: food and eating mentions]

In January of 2021, Donna realized and voiced the obvious while watching television one day: “We’re really not gonna be able to have people over for Galentine’s Day, are we?”

Cameron didn’t always entirely enjoy the spectacle or debauchery that sometimes happened at Donna’s Galentine parties, but she was still sorry that it wouldn’t be safe or advisable to celebrate that year. Gently, she replied, “Not considering a Galentine’s video conference, then?”

“I guess I could do that,” Donna sighed heavily. “It won’t be the same though. And we won’t be able to give out gift bags!” she wailed.

Donna looked forward to organizing a party for February 13 every year, but her favorite part of Galentine’s Day had always been making and giving gift bags filled with expensive indulgences to their friends, and Cameron had never really understood it. It was, in fact, one of the very few things that Cameron didn’t love about Donna, and she wasn’t sure why it bothered her. Donna certainly had the money for it, and what better way to spend your money than on giving nice things to your friends? But no matter how hard she tried, Cameron just couldn’t shake her discomfort with the gross materialism of it.

Still, Cameron tried to be encouraging. “You could send care packages, couldn’t you?”

Donna thought about it for a moment, and then said, “Putting all that strain on the postal service just so I can send my friends expensive scented candles and handmade journals?” Her face collapsed into a look of utter despair at the very thought. “That just feels so ‘let them eat cake,’ doesn’t it?”

“You are not a naive and undereducated young queen who was bamboozled into inheriting a bankrupt and rapidly disintegrating monarchy,” Cameron said, patting Donna’s hand comfortingly. “And you’re also not a nameless, possibly non-existent princess in a non-fiction work by Jean-Jacques Rousseau, or Maria-Teresa, the Spanish princess who might have actually said that.”

With a bemused smile, Donna said, “I love that you just know that.”

“Yeah, well.” Cameron said, putting an arm around Donna. “Just because I have a reputation for being a princess-hater doesn’t mean that I actually hate them. I mean, look at who I married.”

“Cameron Howe, Defender of Princesses,” Donna said. “That has a ring to it? I’ll have to make you head of my queensguard when I inherit the throne.”

Cameron arched an eye brow at Donna. “Are you trying to tell me that you wanna play exiled gay princess and devoted butch lady knight?”

Finally and fully distracted from her galentine’s day disappointment, Donna laughed. And then she kissed Cameron.

***

Cameron got out of bed late that night and went downstairs for two hours. When she returned, Donna woke up briefly, and she said, “Hey? You okay? Where’d you go?”

“Never you mind,” Cameron said, getting under the covers. “I was making you some brioche to throw at the peasants.”

“What?” Donna cried. Then she realized that Cameron was kidding and giggled. “Okay, okay. Keep your secrets.”

Curling up next to Donna, Cameron kissed her shoulder. Resting her head on her pillow, she said, “Good night, sleep tight, your royal highness.”

“Likewise, good Sir Cameron!” Donna said, falling back to sleep.

***

In early February, while Cameron worked on the requested Valentine’s Day decorations, Donna tried to come up with an alternate Galentine plan. She filled out cards and sent them early, and then she sent messages to everyone on her guest list to see if they might have time for individual video chats. She wound up scheduling early morning coffee with Tanya, an afternoon check in with Dr. Katie Herman, and cocktail hour with Risa and her partner, and also Cameron. She spent the next few days trying to come up with ‘something else.’ When she finally resorted to mopily looking through all of their saved and archived photos of past Galentine’s Day parties, she figured it out.

Cameron woke up on the 13th to an email from Donna. While Donna fried eggs and bacon and poured mixed berry waffles, Cameron, sitting at the kitchen island, looked at her phone, and asked, “Did you email me this morning?”

“You, and many of our friends!” Donna chirped.

Flatly, Cameron said, “If it’s a severed head, I’m gonna be very upset.” She clicked on the email with her thumb to read it.

The email said, “To my favorite galentine: while we can’t celebrate with our friends this year, we can give to others, and we also absolutely need to give as much as we can spare during this on-going crisis. So while I do love giving ridiculously priced candles and pens to our friends, this year, my gift is a donation in your name to Girls Who Code.” The closing of the email said, “With any luck we’ll be able to celebrate with our friends next year, but in the meantime: Happy Galentine’s Day! -xo DC.”

And then at the very end of the email, there was an attachment, a photo of Cameron and Donna in the kitchen, preparing snacks, that Haley had taken at their first Galentine’s Day gathering.

Cameron stared at the photo for a minute, and then asked, “Wait, did you make donations for everyone?”

“Yes, yes I did,” Donna said, as she opened the waffle iron. “To different places though, food banks, abortion funds and domestic violence support groups, bail funds, and Black and indigenous justice orgs.”

Overwhelmed by a rush of affection toward her wife, Cameron said, “I think that that was a great way to celebrate. Nice work, Boss.”

Donna’s blushed as she made their plates. “Thank you! I just hope it helps, somehow. Sometimes it all feels futile, you know? It feels less futile when you bring all your friend into it and then email them about it, though!”

They ate breakfast, and then before Donna could say anything else, Cameron said, “Okay, so, I’ve done something. Something that was meant to help cheer you up.”

“Oh?” Donna asked, intrigued.

Cameron got up from her seat, went around the island, and took Donna’s hand. Donna got up, and Cameron escorted her their living room couch, where Cameron had placed two large red gift bags. “You always said that everyone opening their gift bags together was your favorite part of all of this, so. I made two bags for us. It’s not the same as all of our friends opening our git bags together, but, it’s something?”

“Oh, Cam,” Donna frowned. “I love the pseudo but not-quite Gift of the Magi vibes, but, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I know I didn’t, but everything sucks so I figured why not,” Cameron said, picking up her bag and sitting down on the couch. Come on! Sit!” She picked up Donna’s bag, and handed it to her.

Donna accepted the bag from her. She looked at it, and then said, “If this is a severed head, I’m also gonna be very upset.”

“It’s not, it’s a gun rack,” Cameron deadpanned. “For the last time, sit, already!”

Donna sat down next to her, and with the bag in her lap, she started to pull out the pink tissue paper Cameron had crumped and stuffed into the top. “Okay, so what have we got first?” Donna reached into the bag, and pulled out a small plastic bottle. “Scented moisturizing hand sanitizer!”

“The white vetiver scent,” Cameron said, holding hers up. “I didn’t like it at first, but you were right, as always. Now it’s my favorite.”

“A luxurious yet practical item, and a fine choice!” Donna enthused. “What’s next?” She reached into the bag, and pulled out a large tube of aloe-infused hand cream. “Ah, an old standby, and another Emerson-Howe household staple.”

Looking at the tube that been in her bag, Cameron said, “I wanted to go with something fancy, but this stuff just works so well! I feel like we can never have enough of it.”

Reaching into her bag again, Donna felt some plastic wrap, and then pulled out a black and blush pink leopard print 100% silk face mask, packaged with its own silk case.

Cameron looked at her own navy blue and star patterned mask, and admitted, “This is the biggest splurge in here. But as long as we’re double masking….”

With a small sigh, Donna reached into her bag again, and found a set of silk scrunchies, with the same leopard print as her mask. “Oh, I was thinking about trying these! Thank you for remembering me talking about it.”

“What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t buy you the one thing you single thing you put off buying for yourself?” Cameron said. “You can try mine, too, I don’t think I’ll end up using them.”

Donna reached into the bottom of the bag, and found the next to last item, a small cardboard box. When she looked at it, it was a fresh tube of her favorite nude pink lipstick, which she’d been wearing since the late ‘90s, and had been meaning to repurchase.

“I just got a drugstore lip balm for myself, nude rose is your color, not mine,” Cameron said.

Donna snorted. “That was probably the best way to handle it. Thank you for knowing my color.”

“That’s the end of what’s in my bag!” Cameron said. “There’s one more thing in your bag though, because we only need one.”

Donna found the last item. A copy of the Criterion release of Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Donna held it up and said, “Oh…as I recall, you liked this movie better than I did!”

“Yes,” Cameron agreed, “but, you said that you liked it, and that you wanted to try watching it again at home. Which I thought we could maybe do sometime this month.”

Donna smiled at her. “Honestly, I would love that. It’s a date.”

Donna was about to lean in and kiss Cameron to properly thank her, when her phone, forgotten in the kitchen, rang.

“Ack, that’s probably Tanya!” Donna jumped up. “We’re supposed to ‘have coffee’ together!”

“Go answer, then!” Cameron said. “I can clean this up and I can take care of the dishes, too.”

“This was perfect and I love you!” Donna hurriedly kissed her, before rushing off. Already half way to the kitchen, she called out, “Happy Galentine’s Day!” behind her.

“Hard same, have fun, tell Tanya I say hi!” Cameron shouted after her.

#sorry but also not sorry for the gratuitous wayne's world reference!#happy galentine's day bbys #please try to enjoy it and celebrate your friends and loved ones as best as you can despite everything!#femslash february #femslash february 2021 #fan fiction #cameron howe #donna clark #donna emerson

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trickyspook · 4 years

Text

screw it, headcanon post.

Edd

6′5″, chubby, just generally a pretty big guy.

Pansexual

Had a decent childhood, comes from an average suburban family.

Makes most of the money for the house through commissions and such.

Almost all of his free time is spent with his friends or Ringo. The rest is spent looking at or making memes and or watching stupid videos.

Sends people cursed images and videos.

Treats Ringo like a princess.

Tends to wake up early no matter how late he went to bed.

Forgives people way too easy.

Bad posture from slouching over his computer, drawing tablet or a sketch book.

Takes way too long in the shower, completely zones out once he’s in there.

He comes up with really stupid and bad songs as he does things around the house.

Matt

5′11″, slim, board shoulders.

Gay

Spoiled only child from a wealthy family, given pretty much everything and named after a royal ancestor.

Goes to sleep early because he needs “beauty sleep”

Takes care of himself, not his surroundings.

Gets cold really easy, which is why he also wears an overcoat.

Not baby, absolute hellspawn but acts like he’s baby.

Absolutely covered in freckles.

Gets scared really easy.

Has a really nice singing voice and he knows it.

Tom

5′4″, skinny, sort of just generally kind of small and scrawny.

Gay

An orphan, knew his parents but lost them at a young age. Lived with his aunt for a good bit of his childhood. He’s in denial about loosing them.

Has a part time job as a waiter just to help out with the house, hates it.

Always tends to wake up later in the day, around 2 or 3 PM.

Needs to have Tomee Bear at least close to him to fall asleep.

Music is a big part of his life, he plays Susan pretty much every day, if he’s in his room you can pretty much bet he’s either listening to music or playing along with it.

His singing sounds really nice but he’s embarrassed about it.

Mostly listens to really chill music, also listens to rock.

Has to climb onto the counter to get a lot of things from the cabinets.

He absolutely hates thunderstorms and has since he was a kid, the sudden noise and light startles him.

Tord

5′9″ - 5′10″, (I’m leaning toward 5′10″) average body type, slightly muscular.

Bisexual

Born into the Red Army and set to be the next Red Leader, his father would make sure this happened no matter what he had to do. His mother tried to take him away from all of this when he was young but was caught and was never allowed to see her son again. Tord was overly sheltered until he was 18 to prevent her or anyone she knew from trying to take him.

Skilled in robotics, makes pointless things but also lots of things to send over for the army to test.

Has definitely made one of those Useless Box things.

Also makes money through commissions.

He needs to be stopped from drawing anime girls, that’s all he draws.

Huge workaholic.

Mostly the one who makes dinner for everyone, can actually cook pretty well.

Completely messed up sleep schedule, it’s unpredictable. Sometimes he’s asleep until 8 PM, sometimes he’s up at 6 AM after sleeping for 2 hours.

Has a tooth gap, it’s too small to cause any issues so he refuses to get it fixed.

Convinced Edd that he had a lot of stuff like Matt so he could have a “storage room” in the basement. This is where the robot was built, and it was a request from the army.

Mostly listens to rock music.

General/All/Misc.

They have a board in the kitchen to log chores, and who’s turn it is to do what. This was Tord’s idea, surprisingly.

They obviously have pictures and stuff on the wall of all the boys and that, but there’s also just some portraits of just Ringo.

They’ve all collectively started calling Tord the basement gremlin since he spends so much time down there. He owns up to this and accepts the title.

I’ll do a different post for other characters, and for headcanons regarding The End and the future and such.

#eddsworld #ew edd #ew tom #ew matt #ew tord #eddsworld headcanon #ew headcanon

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thisbluespirit · 3 years

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James Maxwell TV/Film List

More of a guide than a recs list, because old tv/film depends so much on availability. It’s also hard as there’s nothing surviving that’s really like SotT for him (his voice is always slightly different, too & rarely the grand one from SotT) - I found it hard to find where to start back in the day, so I hope this makes it easier. However, I have starred my favourites (rated for JM content only).

I’ve divided things into categories and @jurijurijurious (or anyone) can make up their own mind as to what to go for. (Also @jurijurijurious I have NO idea what old telly you’ve already seen, so forgive me if I’m telling you things you already know.)

Where to find it: Luckily in the UK, it’s not too bad! Network Distributing are the DVD supplier to keep an eye on (they do great online sales), you can find secondhand things cheap on Amazon Marketplace & eBay, and several Freeview channels show old TV & film, especially Talking Pictures. I’ll note if things are on YT or Daily Motion, but they come and go all the time, so it’s always worth searching.

***

Film serials (ITC mainly)

British TV made on film in the US mode with transatlantic cash, so generally pretty light, episodic (continuity is almost unheard of) etc. Some turn up on ITV3 & 4 on a regular basis (colour eps).

*** Dangerman “A Date With Doris” (ITC 1964) James Maxwell is a British spy friend of Drake’s (Patrick MacGoohan) called Peter who gets framed for murder. Drake goes to Fake Cuba to rescue him by which time JM is dying from an infected wound and faints off every available surface, including the roof. It’s great. On YT. (The boxset is v pricey if you just want 2 eps.)

“Fair Exchange” (ITC 1964) JM is a German spy friend of Drake’s called Pieter who helps him out on a case. Not as gloriously hurt/comfort-y as the other, but it does have some excellent undercover dusting. (Why Patrick MacGoohan has JM clones all called variations on Peter dotted around the globeis a mystery.) On YT.

The Saint “The Inescapable Word” (ITC 1965) This is pretty terrible, but entertaining and James Maxwell plays the world’s most hopeless former-cop-turned-security guard. With bonus collapsing. On YT.

“The Art Collectors” (1967). JM is the villain of the week. It does include a v funny bit, though, where the Saint (Roger Moore) goes for JM’s fake hair (and who can blame him? How often I have felt the same!) This one’s in colour so should pop up on ITV3 or 4.

The Champions “The Silent Enemy” (ITC 1968). Surprisingly good JM content as the villain of the week who drugs sailors and steals their clothes before realising that maybe he should have worked out if he could operate a sub before he stole it.

The Protectors “The Bridge” (ITC 1974, 30 mins.) Not worth seeking out on its own, but ITV4 seems fond of it and James Maxwell gets to do some angsting and wears purple, so it’s worth snagging if you can, but too slight otherwise.

*** Thriller “Good Salary, Prospects, Free Coffin” (ITC 1975; 1hr 10mins, I think). James Maxwell moves in with Julian Glover and runs an overcomplicated murdery spy ring where they bicker a lot in between killing girls by advertisement and burying them in the back garden. What could possibly go wrong?? Anyway, it’s solid gold cheese, has bonus Julian Glover and a lot of natty knitwear. What more does an old telly fan want? (tw: Keith Barron being inexplicably the very meanest Thriller boyfriend.) On YT but tends to get taken down fast.

***

Films

Design for Loving (1962; comedy). Can be rented from the BFI online for £3.50. Isn’t that great or that bad (or that funny either), but does have JM as a dim layabout beatnik, which is atypical.

***The Traitors (1962). This is a low-key little 1hr long spy B-movie, but it’s also thoughtful and ambiguous with a nice 60s soundtrack and location work (it’s a bit New Wave-ish) and the central duo of JM and Patrick Allen are sweet and it all winds up with James Maxwell going in the swimming pool. One of the things where JM is actually American. (Talking Pictures show this occasionally & it is out on DVD as an extra on The Wind of Change.) The quality of the surviving film is not great, though.

***Girl on Approval (1962). A Rachel Roberts kitchen sink drama about a couple fostering a difficult teenager. It’s dated, but it’s also really interesting for a 1950s/60s slice of life (and very female-centric) & probably the only time on this list JM played an ordinary person.

***Otley (1969). Comedy that’s generally dated surprisingly well & is good fun, starring Tom Courtenay +cameos from what seems like the whole of British TV. JM is an incompetent red herring & there are more cardies and glasses as well as a random barometer.

Old Vic/Royal Exchange group productions

(Surviving works made by the group that JM was involved in from drama school to his death, made by Michael Elliott or Casper Wrede. I like them a lot mostly, but they are all slow and weird and earnest & not everybody’s cup of tea.)

Brand (BBC 1959). The BBC recording of the 59 Company’s (the name they were then using) landmark production, starring Patrick MacGoohan. This was a big deal in British theatre & launched the careers of everybody involved. It’s very relentless and weird but interesting & I’m glad they decided it was important enough to save. First fake beard alert of this post. It won’t be the last. On YT & there is a DVD, which is sometimes affordable and sometimes £500, depending on the time of day.

***Private Potter (1962). The original TV play is lost and this film has an extraneous storyline, but otherwise has most of the TV cast & gives a pretty good idea of why as a claustrophobic talky TV piece it made such an impact. Tom Courtenay is Private Potter, a soldier who claims to have had a vision of God during a mission & James Maxwell his CO who needs to decide what to do about this strange excuse for disobeying orders. Tw: fake eyebrows (!) and moustaches. Only available on YT.

[???]One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch (1970). Again, no DVD release (no idea why), but it is on YT. I haven’t seen this yet, but it’s another Casper Wrede effort starring Tom Courtenay and apparently JM is especially good in it. (I’m just not good at watching long things on YT and keep hoping for a DVD or TV showing.)

Ransom (1974). A more commercial effort starring Sean Connery & Ian McShane; it gets slated as not being a good action movie, but is clearly meant to be more thinky and political with the edge of a thriller. JM’s part isn’t large but Casper Wrede shoots his friend beautifully, & it’s a pretty decent film with nice cinematography, shot in Norway, as was One Day. I liked it.

[I think this post might be the longest in the world, whoops. Sorry!]

Cardboard TV (the best bit, obv)

One-off plays etc./mini-series

Out of the Unknown “The Dead Planet” Adaptation of an Asimov short story; this is very good for JM, but hard to get hold of unless you want the boxset. I think someone has some of the eps on Daily Motion. (His other OotU ep is sadly burninated.)

The Portrait of a Lady (BBC 1968). Adaptation of the novel; JM is Gilbert Osmond, so it is great for JM in quantity and his performance, but depends how you feel about him being skeevy in truly appalling facial hair. Do the bow ties and hand-holding make up for it? but he’s in 5 whole episodes, and Suzanne Neve, faced with Richard Chamberlain, Edward Fox, and Ed Bishop as suitors, chooses instead to marry the worst possible James Maxwell. Relatable. XD

***Dracula (ITV 1968, part of Mystery & Imagination). JM is Dr Seward, fainty snowflake of vampire hunters, who falls over, sobs and can’t cope for most of the 1 hr 20 mins. More facial hair, but not as offensive as last time. Suzanne Neve is back again, although now JM is nice, she’s married Corin Redgrave, who’s more into Denholm Elliott. Anyway, I love this so much because it turned out that I love Dracula as well as shaky old TV with people I like in getting to fight vampires and all be shippy. Good news - TP keep showing M&I, the DVD is out, and there are two versions of it up on YT.

The Prison (Armchair Cinema 1974). This is the one with Lincoln in it, but it’s not that great & JM isn’t in it that much, so depends how curious you are for the modern AU! (But my Euston films allergy is worse than my ITC allergy, and I watched this when very unwell, so I may have been unfair.)

Crown Court “Fitton vs. Pusey” (1973) - part of the Crown Court series, set in a town full of clones who all keep returning to court. JM is on trial for his behaviour in (the Korean war? I forget?) although he ought to be on trial for his terrible moustache. It’s not that great, but it is nice JM content. He probably did it, but for reasons, and he wibbles & panics whenever his wife leaves the courtroom. Also on YT.

*** Raffles “The Amateur Cracksman” (ITV 1975) - He is Inspector Mckenzie in the Raffles pilot & is a lot of fun. At one point when there was a Raffles fandom someone in it claimed he was too gay for Raffles, which I’m still laughing about, because Raffles. Anyway, watch out if you try to get the DVD because it is NOT included in S1, whatever lies Amazon tells. It is up somewhere online, though, I think.

Bognor “Unbecoming Habits” (1981). Some down marks for possibly the worst 80s theme & incidiental music ever, but fun & has been shown on Talking Pictures lately. JM is an Abbot running a honey-making friary that is actually a hotbed of spies, murder, gay sex and squash playing. This is the point at which he chooses to strip off on screen for the first time, because strong squash-playing abbots do that kind of thing apparently.

Guest of the week in ongoing series/serials

Since even series with a lot of continuity tended to write episodes as self-contained plays (like SotT), these are usually accessible on their own.

Manhunt “Death Wish” (1970). This is one of the most serialised shows here, but this episode is still fairly contained. WWII drama about three Resistance agents on the run across France. JM is... a Nazi agent & former academic trying to break an old friend (one of the series’ three leads, Peter Barkworth) with kindness, possibly?? (Manhunt is very angry and psychological & dark and obv. comes with major WWII warnings (& more if you want to try the whole thing), but it’s also v good.) Up on YT, I think.

Doomwatch “The Iron Doctor” (BBC S2 1971). “Doomwatch” is the nickname of a gov’t dept led by Dr Spencer Quist that investigates new scientific projects for abuse/corruption/things that might cause fish to make men infertile etc. etc. JM is a surgeon who comes to their attention because he’s a bit too in love with his computer for the comfort of one of his more junior colleagues. (I think it’s perfectly comprehensible & a nice guest turn, but it is hard to get hold of outside of the series DVD. Which, being a cult TV person, I loved a lot anyway, but YMMV!)

***Hadleigh “The Caper” (S3 1973). Hadleigh is a very middle of the road show, but watchable enough (lead is Gerald Harper, who’s always entertaining) and this is pretty self-contained as it centres around an old con-man friend (JM) of Hadleigh’s manservant causing trouble by pretending to be Gerald Harper, for reasons. JM seems to be having a ball.

Justice 2 episodes, S3 1974. He guests twice as an opposing barrister & gets to be part of some nice showdown court scenes. Again, a middle of the road drama, but stars Margaret Lockwood, who was still just as awesome in the 1970s as she was in the 1930s & 40s. On YT.

Father Brown “The Curse of the Golden Cross” (1974). JM is an American archaeologist getting death threats; stars Kenneth More as Father Brown. Just a note, though, that 1970s TV adaptations tended to be really really faithful and this is one of the stories where Chesterton comes out with an anti-semitic moment... (JM was unconscious for that bit and, frankly, I envied him.) But otherwise lots of angsting in yet another fake moustache about someone trying to kill him.

The Hanged Man “The Bridge Maker” (1975). Confession time, I have v little idea what this one was about apart from Ray Smith being an unlikely Eastern European dictator, as this whole series went over my head and was not really my thing. (Ask @mariocki they’re cleverer than me and liked it & can probably explain the plot!) I don’t know if it’s available anywhere off the DVD but on a JM scale it was v good/different as he was a coldly villainous head of security & it wouldn’t be too bad to watch alone, but there was an overarching plot going on somewhere.

Doctor Who “Underworld” (1978). This is famously one of the worst serials in the whole of classic Who, but largely because of behind-the-scenes circumstances, not the guest cast. There is some nice stuff, though, esp in Ep1 (JM is a near-immortal alien who’d like to lay down and die but still the Quest is the Quest as they say... a lot) & it’s bound to pop up on YT or Daily Motion. The DVD has extras that include v v brief bits of JM speaking in his actual real accent (which he otherwise does in NONE of these) & making jokes in character. Honestly, though, this is the only DW where the behind-the-scenes doc is genuinely the most exciting bit as they desperately invented whole new technologies & methods of working to bring us this serial, and then everybody wished they hadn’t.

*** Enemy at the Door “Treason” (LWT 1978). This is a weird episode but I love it lots - from a (v v good) series about the occupation of the Channel Islands. (So obv warnings for WWII & Nazis.) JM is a visiting German Generalmajor, but he’s come for a very unusual reason - to ask for help from his brother-in-law, a blackballed British army officer (Joss Ackland). It’s all weird and low key and JM is doomed and nevertheless probably my favourite thing of his that isn’t SotT.

* The Racing Game 2 eps (1979). Adaptation of Dick Francis’s first Sid Halley novel Odds Against (ep1) + 5 original stories for the series. This is an interesting one - JM plays Sid’s father-in-law & they have a lovely relationship that’s central to the book BUT Dick Francis loved this adaptation and Mike Gwilym who played Sid and was inspired to write a sequel Whip Hand, which he tied in with TV canon - and adopted at least three of the cast, including JM. Which means that all the Sid & Charles fanfic is also JM fic by default and it’s quite impressive. (There’s not much but it’s GOOD.) On YT.

Bergerac “Treasure Hunt” (1981). Not a major role, but pretty nice & it’s one a Christmas ep of the detective show (also set on the Channel Islands) that involved Liza Goddard’s cat burglar, which was always the best bit of Bergerac.

His guest spots in Rumpole of the Bailey (1991) “Rumpole a la Carte” and Dr Finlay (1994) are both really just cameos, but both series come round on Freeview; the Rumpole one is funny and the Dr Finlay one his last screen appearance before his death the following year.

Not worth getting just for JM: Subway in the Sky; Bill Brand and Oppenheimer.

These films only have cameos but some quite fun ones and they come around on terrestrial TV: The Damned (1962), The Evil of Frankenstein (1964) & (more briefly) Far From the Madding Crowd (1967). (I think his cameo in Connecting Doors must be at least recognisable as someone spotted him in it just based off my gifs, but it’s not come my way yet.) I’ve never been able to get hold of any of his radio performances, not even the 1990s one.

ETA: I forgot The Power Game! This is the one surviving series where he occurs as a semi-regular (at least until halfway through S1 when he went off to the BBC to be in the now-burninated Hunchback of Notre Dame). This isn’t standalone, but it’s a good series and it is on YT. See how you go with crackly old TV before you brave it but it’s the snarkiest thing ever made about people making concrete and stabbing each other in the back. JM is a civil servant who tries to run the National Export Board and is plagued by Patrick Wymark and Clifford Evans as warring businessmen.

***

[... Well, now I just feel scary. 0_o In my defence, I have been stuck home bored & ill for years, and often unable to watch modern TV while trying to cheer myself up with James Maxwell, so I didn’t watch all of this at once. It just... happened eventually after SotT. /waves hand

But if anyone feels the need to unfriend my quietly at this point, I understand. /o\]

#james maxwell #masterlist #rec list #well sort of #1950s #1960s #1970s #1980s #there are some things i haven't seen #and some things i know to be extant but unreleased #everything else is burninated or status unknown

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luulapants · 4 years

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Hale Royal Family AU - Part 1

@shey-elizabeth made this post:

”Me reading the Prince Harry-Meghan Markel royal family drama:

Wait… I think I read this fic already. (Starts scrolling through my AO3 history)

#random #royalty au #someone write me a steter fic #reading the news before coffee”

And, I mean, I don’t even need to be told to write Steter fics, but it damn sure helps.

Part 1: September 2014

Over the buzzing of his razor, Peter could just hear the soft knock that sounded on the bedroom door, followed by Stiles calling, “Come in!”

In the mirror, through the crack in the bathroom door, he saw the maid, Mrs. Larson, wheel in a tray of tea and, presumably, breakfast sandwiches or something of the sort. “How are you this morning, Master Stilinski?” she asked, a bit stiffly. Sixth months in, and the staff still didn’t know what to make of the barely-legal human suddenly lounging about like he owned the place.

“Peachy,” Stiles replied blithely, though Peter knew he was nursing a hangover that would have put a lesser man in the ground. “You can just leave the cart. He’s still primping, so who knows when he’ll actually get to his tea. Oh, hey, is that the paper?”

Peter heard Mrs. Larson leave as he patted on his aftershave. Nudging the bathroom door open the rest of the way, he saw Stiles, draped over a five thousand dollar leather settee like it was an old sofa in a frat house. He had one gangly leg slung over the back, the other stretched out on the floor. He hadn’t gotten dressed yet, still in nothing but a pair of black briefs and the utterly obscene red leather crop top he’d worn out the night before. Peter couldn’t imagine it had been comfortable to sleep in.

He regretted missing the look on Mrs. Larson’s face when she saw the state of him.

“Primping?” Peter echoed with a fond smile.

Stiles had the newspaper propped up on his chest. He looked over, and his eyes dragged shamelessly over Peter’s bare chest, down to the towel knotted at his waist, then back up to his face. “Primping,” Stiles affirmed.

“Did you find it yet?” Peter asked, gesturing to the paper. He walked over to stand behind Stiles so he could read along.

“Nope. Was just looking for it.” He started to flip through the sections haphazardly. “Op-Ed, Business, Business, Sports… ah! Society.” There, at the top of the society section, was a picture of Peter, a clip from the video interview he’d done yesterday. The top of the section read ‘Continued from Page 3.’ “Oh, shit, you made the big time,” Stiles muttered, quickly flipping back to the front sections.

Prince Peter Comes Out, Shocks The Nation

“Shocks the nation?” Stiles snorted, tapping his fingers against the headline. “Seriously, who is shocked by this? Do they know anything about you?”

Peter huffed and headed over to his closet. “I’m not that obvious,” he protested.

“You own a vineyard,” Stiles said.

“Plenty of straight people own vineyards.” Peter stepped into the closet, but left the door open so they could keep talking. He frowned thoughtfully at the shirts hanging just inside the door.

“You own paisley pants.”

Peter poked his head out of the closet. “You promised you wouldn’t bring those up again,” he snapped.

“You have an entire section of your closet dedicated to vests!”

Peter sighed and went back to staring down his wardrobe. “Yes, well, they have to hang, Stiles. You can’t fold them up in a drawer.”

“What I’m saying is that no one in this entire world should be shocked that you’re gay.”

Pulling down two Oxford shirts, one blue-gray and the other burgundy, Peter stepped back out into the room, holding them up. “Which one?”

Stiles glanced between them with a frown. “What are you dressing for?”

“Existing,” Peter drawled, “as a shockingly gay member of royal society.” Stiles lifted an eyebrow at him in judgment, and he added, “And dinner at Talia’s later.”

“The blue,” Stiles decided, then gave him a cheeky grin. “And wear a vest.”

Talia’s butler bowed as he opened the front door with a subdued, “Your Highness, welcome.”

“Mr. Boyd,” Peter greeted as he stepped into the entryway. “How are your boys doing?”

“Very well, sir. Vernon is in his last year at USC. He’ll be graduating with honors.”

“How wonderful.”

“Her Majesty is a bit delayed and gives her apologies. She asked that you wait in the solarium, where she will be with you shortly.”

“Of course,” Peter agreed, biting the inside of his cheek to hold the false smile on his lips. His sister liked to make him wait, especially when she was angry with him.

The Beacon Hills Manor had always been too stern for Peter’s taste. The entryway opened to a dark-stained double staircase with wolves carved into the handrails, frozen mid-leap with their ivory teeth bared and garnets glinting in their eyes.

He walked between them, through a massive gallery lined with imposing portraits of long-dead relatives. They had frightened him as a child, the way they all seemed to gaze downward at him, their huge faces drawn into ferocious expressions that seemed judgmental at best, furious at worst.

At the end of the gallery, he passed through a set of over-sized wooden doors inlaid with copper triskelions. The solarium always felt humid, just short of stifling. Outside the glass walls, the summer garden sprawled outward in shocking beauty. Inside, orchids and vining plants hung from the ceiling and various tropical plants framed the delicate wicker furniture.

They had lived in this house only briefly, when Peter was ten years old, Talia already moved out and in graduate school. He had hated it here, hated the isolation of Beacon Hills and the loneliness of roaming the woods by himself, all of the cousins and his other friends back in San Francisco. Talia had liked the location for raising her family, though, set far back in the woods where her children could shift and run freely without fear of being harassed by the press.

Peter sat on the wicker couch, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as a maid hurried in with a glass of iced tea. Peter thanked her and pulled out his phone. He already had a text from Stiles.

How’s Beacon Thrills?

Stiles, by some coincidence, had grown up in Beacon Hills, but he hadn’t even been born yet when Peter lived here. Even then, it would have been unlikely for them to ever interact. Even werewolves not of royal lineage tended to live apart from human society. Peter had attended private schools and taken lessons with private tutors. Stiles had gone to the local public school.

Her Majesty is making me wait in the greenhouse. She’s literally letting me sweat it out.

He was so focused on tapping out his response that he didn’t hear his sister come in until she said, “And what’s that smile about?”

Peter realized, with some irritation, that he was smiling like an idiot at his phone. He schooled his expression into something prim as he looked up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Why, the thought of your arrival, of course,” he replied.

“Resorting to flattery already?” Talia stood just inside the doorway, an eyebrow raised and her lips twisted into a smirk. She wore white linen pants and a deep purple blouse that matched her flats. Her eyes flashed red, and his shone blue in response. They stared each other down for a long moment before, at once, they both broke into soft laughter.

Rising from his seat, Peter crossed the room and hugged her around the middle, lifting her from her feet just briefly. He kissed her cheek as he set her down, and she returned the gesture. “It’s nice to see you, Talia.”

She pinched his cheek. “I wish we could do this when it’s not about you giving ulcers to an entire staff of publicity agents.”

Peter spun on his heel, walking back to the sitting area. “Oh, for God’s sake, I don’t know what everyone is so up in arms about. It can’t be such a terrible shock. I own a vineyard and an unholy amount of vests.” He dropped back onto the couch with an exhausted huff.

“It was always going to be a big deal, Peter,” Talia chided, following and sitting in the chair opposite him. “We’re the first generation that could even dream about going public with this. Besides, you know how the press likes to make a fuss.”

“Well, it will all settle down soon enough,” Peter insisted, waving a careless hand and picking up his iced tea. Another maid came in with a drink for Talia – raspberry lemonade, by the smell of it.

“You could have handled the interview a bit better.” She took a sip of her drink, glaring at him over the top of her glass.

It had been a standard catching-up-with-the-royals sort of thing. Peter had been prepared to talk about his business ventures, his house, his vineyard – hell, even his cat. Instead, they’d asked when he thought he would be ready to find a woman and settle down.

“What was I supposed to do? Lie and say I hadn’t found the right one? Apologize for dashing their hopes of more royal babies?” What he had said was, ‘Well, I’m gay, so I’m going to say ‘never’.’ The startled look on the interviewer’s face had been the highlight of his year so far.

“I suppose tact would have been too much to ask for,” Talia laughed softly. She shook her head, but she looked fond. “Anyway, it will blow over as long as you keep your head down and don’t go causing a scandal right after it. You know how the royal watchers get once they have their eyes on someone.”

Peter slouched back in his chair, swirling his glass idly in his hand. “And what sort of scandal do you suppose I would make?”

Talia stared at him for a long moment, lips pursed, and he recognized it as her ‘diplomacy face.’ Weighing her words before she spoke. Finally, she said, “I hear that human boy is still hanging around quite a lot.”

“Stiles?” Peter shrugged a lazy shoulder. “Sure. We’re friends.”

“Peter. Come on, you know how it’s going to look. He’s half your age.”

“He’s not half my age,” Peter argued. “He’s nineteen. That’s at least sixty percent of my age.”

“Thought about it that much, hmm?” she teased. When Peter didn’t have a reply beyond a glare, she pressed on. “He’s human. He’s inappropriately young. He’s not from any sort of notable background. If the press catch wind of him, they’ll have a field day.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s innocent, honestly. He’s an interesting person that I enjoy spending time with. There’s nothing romantic about it.”

Talia looked skeptical. “So, what, you’ve taken him under your wing? Brought home a stray?”

“The opposite is closer to the truth, honestly,” Peter admitted.

It had been his first night sneaking out to a gay club. Thirty-two years old – and how sad was that? Peter had always been too wary of being recognized or mobbed by paparazzi.

It was mostly a human club, which lowered his chances of being recognized somewhat, but plenty of humans followed and fawned over werewolf royalty. Werewolves in Europe at least got to split attention with the human royal families. Here in the states, the Hales received the full and brutal fixation of the royal watchers.

Peter put on heavy eye makeup and wore his hair loose and curly, instead of gelled back, as he usually wore it. Checking himself in the mirror before going out, Peter had hardly recognized himself.

When he got to the club, he felt a little lost at first. He got himself a wolfsbane drink and nursed it, eyeing the dance floor uncertainly.

“You look like you’re new!” a voice yelled over the noise. Peter stifled a wince. He could have heard just fine at normal speaking volume. When Peter turned, there he was: loose-limbed and joyful in nothing but a pair of skinny jeans and sneakers. Bits of glitter stuck to his abdomen.

Peter leaned closer to him. “You look like you’re new,” he shot back. “There’s no way you’re old enough to be in here.”

The boy laughed and sidled up close, chest-to-chest. Against Peter’s ear, he said, “I’m Stiles.”

They spent a couple of hours dancing and drinking, both of them getting looser as the night went on, touching and laughing more freely. On the dance floor, Peter got a thigh between Stiles’s legs. Stiles ground onto it, wound his arms around Peter’s neck, and kissed him.

They were making out when the fire alarm sounded. Peter doubled over at the noise, hands clasped over his ears. The lights came up, and the sprinklers overhead went off almost immediately, dousing the crowd and dredging up a new wave of noise as people shrieked and pushed for the exits.

When Peter looked up, Stiles was standing next to him, a hand on Peter’s shoulder, surveying the chaos with a frown. His hair was already drenched, slicked down to his forehead. He looked at Peter, swore, then bent down to speak softly in his ear. “We have to get you out of here. Someone’s gonna recognize you.”

The next thing Peter knew, they were on the back patio, scaling the fence to jump into the adjacent alleyway. The winter had started to loosen its grasp lately, but this late at night, drenched to the bone, Peter felt the chill coming on fast. He couldn’t imagine how bad it would be for a human. Stiles grabbed his hand and headed off down the alley at a jog.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked, the first in a long list of questions whizzing through his head. Had Stiles known who he was all along? Why hadn’t he said anything? Was he going to tell anyone?

“My place,” Stiles said. “It’s just a block and a half, and my roommates are out of town. Don’t worry.”

Peter should have been worried. He should have been terrified and calling security staff to come and retrieve him.

Instead, he followed Stiles home to a shitty, tiny three-bedroom apartment. They dried off and made hot chocolate and microwave taquitos. They stayed up all night, just talking. They talked about everything. Their lives, their histories, their friends and families, their fears.

There was a moment that night.

Stiles had been lying on the floor with his feet on the couch, his head pillowed on Peter’s calf. A mosaic glass lamp, hung in the corner of the room, cast shadows of blue and gold over his face. Peter had told Stiles his many reasons for keeping his sexuality out of the press, and Stiles listened quietly until he had poured out his every thought on the matter.

Stiles folded his hands on his stomach and stared up at the ceiling. “You know, the way I think about it, it’s all about power. You’re supposed to sit there and wait for someone to make a judgment on you. Will they accept you or won’t they? That’s the set-up. You bare your soul and wait for them to judge it.”

“So then should you just not do it? Keep things to yourself?” Peter asked.

“Nah, you take the power back. Decide what is and isn’t an acceptable response to you coming out, and you judge them right back. Anyone that isn’t a fucking delight when you come out? Kick ‘em to the curb.” He kicked the back of the couch with a smug little expression.

Stroking his fingers through Stiles’s hair, Peter wished he could have half the brassy courage this boy had. “Is that what you did?” he asked.

Stiles laughed, and the sound bubbled through the room like energy. “No, I cried like a baby. But it’s what I’d do if I could do it again.” He sighed and looked up at Peter, eyes tired but creased with a smile at the corners. “If you decide to come out, promise you won’t give them the power, okay?”

Peter stared down at his face, at his earnest concern for a werewolf royal, of all people. For someone he didn’t even know. For a terrifying moment, he thought, I could fall in love with him. Then he shook the thought off, set it aside.

He had never had a best friend before. The werewolf nobility Peter had spent his whole life surrounded by were shameless ladder climbers, social strategists and politicians. Stiles had a best friend growing up, Scott, but they had started to grow apart since Scott went out of state for college. Over the course of a few months, he and Stiles become nearly inseparable.

Maybe it should have been weird, what with the age gap and their radically different backgrounds. Peter had grown up in multi-million dollar mansions, waited on by service staff and trailed by body guards. Stiles had grown up in an understaffed sheriff’s department, doing his math homework in vacant interrogation rooms because his dad couldn’t afford a babysitter as often as he needed one.

But Stiles was funny and sharp as a whip, earnest and passionate. He never once treated Peter like royalty. He pushed him out of his comfort zone and called him on his bullshit, and Peter adored him for it.

If Talia thought he could just call that off, she was crazy.

#Steter #stiles stilinski #Peter Hale #talia hale #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf au #royals au #hale royal family au #this needs a better title at some point #part 1 of 6 #yes 6 #because I have no self control

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robinsnest2111 · 3 years

Text

indirectly tagged by @lampmeeting

it's not part of the original thing but I'm gonna add a silly little self portrait as well~

Questions to get to know you a little better:

1. What do you prefer to be called name wise? Robin or any kind of nickname related to that you can come up with lol Some of my favourites are Rob and Robble

2. When is your birthday? November 21st

3. Where do you live? A little town in Niedersachsen (Lower Saxony), Germany. Known for being the summer residence of a royal bloodline some 200 years ago. Yes there's a castle :P

4. Three things I am doing right now? Trying to forget the nightmare I just woke up from, thinking about getting a few more clementines from the kitchen and fininishing a little sketch I started yesterday

5. Four fandoms that have piqued my interest: Metalocalypse (ofc), Hogan's Heroes, Ghost BC, What We Do In The Shadows. Those are the main 4 at the moment but there's always a chance for other fandoms to take over for a bit.

6. How has the pandemic been treating you? ....yeah. Not so great. My grandma died suddenly at the start of the pandemic, I had to leave my internship I was super happy at early because of lockdown, finished my last semester at college with horrible online classes, had to move back in with my parents, cut contact with someone I've known almost all my life, barely passed my finals, still on the hunt for a job (started applying to places in September) and am close to losing it any day now lol Also pandemic means no flea markets which was one of the few things keeping my brain happy and occupied while giving me a chance to ride my bike around the region for hours :^(((((

7. Song(s) I can’t stop listening to: Sadly no particular song coming to mind right now, but I've had Ghost's entire discography and Dethalbum I, II, and III on rotation for months now lol. This Toss A Coin To Your Witcher Remix has also been stuck in my head for a while and is always worth a listen (Also have some silly techno/hardstyle remixes stuck in my brain permanently because I listened to them as background noise while trying to make my final college projects somewhat decent. Terence Hill & Bud Spencer - Lalalalalala, Da Tweekaz - Jägermeister, Star Wars Hardstyle, DJ Ötzi - Anton aus Tirol, Das Leben des Brian - Schwanzus Longus)

8. Recommend a movie: The Road to El Dorado by Dreamworks, a children's movie, I know... Each song is an absolute banger tho (even the German versions!), the jokes are silly but fun, the queer/gay hints add that little spice that I subconsciously picked up on and felt comforted by as a kid and the design of the everything is just (chef's kiss) Also the chemistry between the 4 main characters is gud as heck. It's the childhood movie I latched on to the most, my mother had to rent the dvd almost every single day until I bought a copy myself lol

9. How old are you? 24 orz I don't feel like it at all...

10. School, university, occupation? Finished college in August, unemployed because no one wants to hire in the creative field during a worldwide plague :^)

11. Do you prefer heat or cold? As long as it's under 35°C I prefer heat. My hands and feet are icicles 95% of the time after losing weight :^(

12. Name one fact others may not know about you? Since I'm an expert oversharer you probably know almost everything about me already orz But uhhh. Lemme see... I learned how to operate a laundry machine at the ripe old age of 20 at my internship at a hair salon lmao My mother never had the nerve to show me how on the modern machine we have at home (along the lines of "you will fuck it up anyways so let me do it >:^(((" which is an overarching theme in her raising me lol), but the older machine with the simpler dials at the salon was a good start to learn and honestly one of the things at this internship I'm still super grateful for...

13. Are you shy? Oh hell yeah I am... It's all the years of getting only negative feedback for trying to interact with others lol

14. Preferred pronouns: He/Him mostly, still figuring out if I still like they/them or nah (since in German there are no neutral pronouns that aren't neopronouns I've automatically gotten more attached to he/him lol)

15. Biggest pet peeves: I feel so mean for admitting it but honestly: Any noises my parents make. If I'm having a particularly bad low brain energy day even hearing them breathe makes me wanna run away and scream in anger... (Doesn't irk me with anyone else tho, which is weird...)

16. What is your favorite "dere" type? Oh there's more than 4 types now?? I've always liked Kuudere types the most out of the original 4 types, but I guess Shundere and Utsudere are right up my alley too!!!

The Kuudere (クーデレ), sometimes written Coodere or Kūdere, type refers to a character who is often cold, blunt, and cynical. They may seem very emotionless on the outside, but on the inside they’re very caring — at least when it comes to the ones they love.

The Shundere (しゅんデレ) type refers to characters who are sad and very depressed. While a full smile on their face might be out of the question, their love interest can help them open up and feel accepted.

The Utsudere (うつデレ) type refers to a character who is often sad and depressed. There is a reason for the character’s despair such as being bullied at school. Even if their life improves, they are often wary of other characters’ motives.

17. Rate your life 1-10? Maybe a 4? 4.5 at max

18. What is your main blog? The one I'm posting this on lol

19. List all your side blogs and what they’re for:

yorkiesart - old as hell and inactive artblog

bleedingheartbird - very triggering and depressing vent blog :^(

yorkie2111 - my very first username, a sea and ocean themed aesthetic blog now mostly for when I miss Denmark a whole lot (kinda inactive)

robinsartnest - a second attempt at a separate art blog, inactive as well lol

20. Is there anything people should know before becoming friends with you? I'm a clusterfuck of several undiagnosed mental illnesses and probably other conditions that I'm trying to figure out and deal with on my own until I can get professional help and some diagnoses. At times I'm weird and distant and overall very depressed and unpleasant, I've already hurt so many people this way and am trying to be better every single day. Basically I've never been given the "How to properly Human" manual and am frantically trying to get it right without hurting too many innocent people in the process.

Anyway, if you are nice to me I will love you forever ♡♡♡ :'3c

idk who to tag so if you wanna do this, do it~

#oh wow that's a long one haha #gosh these tag things really encourage my oversharing nature oops #anyway if any of you want to do this too feel tagged :D #get to know me better

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