#my very queer and beautiful son

[they-them-mayhem]

Who wants a sneaky peek!

It's a short one, but I think you'll enjoy it :D

"Nicholas Duval is a one man pride parade in the middle of Ohio, and I’m honestly in awe of his bravery, if a little blinded by all the technicolor rainbows."

#Let Me In #sneaky peek Monday #fanfiction #glee #glee fanfiction #nicholas duval #my son #my very queer and beautiful son #so precious #nick duval #darrenchris6

[i-hate-accidents]

i hate accidents: the beginning

femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington

summary:  the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son

sections:  I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball

y/n:  bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents

content warnings:  classism, mentions of financial survival, microaggressive sexism, microaggressive gender assumption, positive/supportive families, allusions to alcohol abuse in [I.viii]

word count:  13.9k (of 38.8k)

story context:  everything in s1 and s2 of the tv series is canon for this story except for the s2 epilogue with the bridgertons.  this story takes place leading up to and into the 1815 season. 

additional notes:  this story is incomplete. scenes that are not written are described in chevrons <> with third person pov or are delineated by isolated ellipses. additionally, the author has only watched s2!  she has not watched any of s1 aside from clips, and they have not read the books aside from quotes used in edits.  they have not yet watched queen charlotte.  the author kinda knows the gist of an offer from a gentleman; they are familiar with sophie beckett (and are excited to meet her/them in the tv series!).

author’s note:  this is the first time the author has written fanfic in 13-15 years.  :)  it is her hope that they have made some progress since her pre/teens.  additionally, this fanfic has been written, on and off, over the course of two years.  the author sincerely hopes you find some sort of joy in it, especially the readers who maybe hope to see themself a little more specifically in the world we so love.

reading tip: whilst the author is proud of it, she understands the intro to the first section is long. if you wish to get more straight to y/n and benedict's story, the author suggests jumping to [I.ii]. they won't be offended that you did heh.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.i ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

you do not know how you got here.

well, that is not true; you quite literally walked from the markets and followed the directions that penelope had given you, but you did not think those directions would lead you here.

this is a mistake.  i must have taken a wrong turn, gone up instead of down, made a left when i should’ve taken a right. 

or perhaps this is a dream?  yes!  that has to be it!  a dream!  i must have lulled off and dreamt myself here, for whatever reason.  once i close my eyes and open them again, surely i will be at home, or the markets, or the workshop even.  surely!  

so, you close your eyes shut.

you had been walking about the markets on your non-work day, some weeks ago, browsing the wares you wouldn’t (and couldn’t) buy, eavesdropping on any conversation of intrigue, observing the bustle of the crowd going about their day, mindlessly thinking of the next thing to write, daydreaming—when you had collided with someone.  they had let out a squeak, their materials flying out of their hands, as you had fallen on your back, thankfully not hitting your head.  in your periphery, you had seen how the person had crawled to your side and looked at you with urgency and concern.

“i am so sorry!”  their voice was pretty.  sweet and lovely.  you lifted yourself up a bit to see the person you had collided with.  they were also pretty— beautiful, red-haired, and hooded in blue.  

their eyes widened.

“er, i meant,” they spoke again, but this time with an— irish accent?  their voice was still sweet and lovely but very distinctly irish and distinctly different from their voice mere moments before. “are you hurt?”

“i am all right, thank you.”

“very well,” they said, still in their irish accent, “then i must be going—”  and they shot themself up and turned, you assumed, to run away.

“wait!  you’re a writer, yes?”

as you had hoped, the person in blue froze.  they slowly turned to you again, apprehension and intrigue in their eyes.

“how do you know?”  their voice was mangled between their two accents.

“unless you pluck birds for fun,” you stated as you collected the scattered materials they had dropped in the collision, “these are quills.”

you stood up, approached them, and held out their quills to take, offering a smile.  the stranger took the quills and put them in their bag.  they returned their eyes to you and returned your smile.

“thank you,” they responded in their english accent.

“i know how precious those are, so i am very glad to see they won’t go to waste.  well, they wouldn’t have gone to waste either way; i would’ve taken them if you hadn’t turned around.”

that caused the person in blue to laugh.

“i assume you are a writer?” they inquired.

you don’t know what had overcome you; you don’t know why you had been so trusting of this stranger, especially with something such as your writing, but you had been. you reached for your then most recent, folded up quarto, kept between your bosom and your blouse, and offered it to the stranger to read.  they took it, shifted their eyes from line to line, turned it to read the crossed lines, and then looked up at you, beaming.

“this is brilliant!— oh, forgive me; i did not even ask for your name.”

“y/n,” you extended your hand.  “and you?”

the stranger seemed to stiffen but quickly relaxed themself, taking your hand in theirs and shaking them.  they beamed still, but something of their smile had grown quietly mischievous.

“can you keep a secret?”

when you open your eyes, you huff out a breath in a poor attempt to assuage yourself from the reality of your situation:  you are not dreaming.  here you are—you—at grosvenor square.  

you knew of your friend’s circumstances as she had shared it:  she is a noble lady, a third sister of the featherington family, who has been writing scandal sheets of high society’s romps and happenings since her ‘debut,’ as she had put it (you hadn’t understood how she had used that word and became further confused upon her explanation of it), under a pseudonym called lady whistledown.  penelope has been kind enough to let you read her sheets, and you find it ridiculous what these high society persons do for their lives and utterly brilliant with what wit, snark, and compassion even penelope commentates on that world.  

but you did not ever, ever think that she would bring you to it, let alone into it.  when penelope had said that you were to meet her most beloved friend, you had thought it would be in an obscure alley or a room hidden behind a bookcase in an unassuming shop—not the literal neighborhood in which she, and presumably her friend, lives!  by your posture, by your clothes, by your very existence, it is blatant how much you do not belong here.

i should run.  i am going to run.

and so you turn and start—

“y/n!”

—when you hear the sweet voice of your friend.  you scrunch your eyes closed, inhaling and exhaling through your nose, and turn around and see penelope in a picturesque green dress, lifting up her skirt with gloved hands, scurrying down the pavement of her neighborhood towards you, beaming.  despite the anxiety that rages within you at this very moment, your heart swells upon seeing your friend in such enthusiastic spirits, and you smile despite yourself.

“good day, pen.”

she takes hold of your bare hands in her gloved ones and gives them a squeeze.  perhaps she can discern your nerves because you start to feel yourself calm ever so slightly by her gesture.

“i am so glad you are here,” she says.

“i am—— glad to see you,” you then lower your voice.  you do not know why; it is not as if your lowered voice will help conceal your existence in this place.  “are you certain i am permitted to be here?”

letting go of your hands, penelope swats at the question.

“the bridgertons and i care not about such things.”

“the— bridgertons?” 

“yes!” she turns and gestures to the grand brick house with wisterias.  “it is at their home, after all, in which we will be spending our time together.”

your jaw drops.

“we are staying inside the house?  not simply meeting outside the house?”

this is not a dream.  this is a nightmare.

penelope returns her eyes to yours, and it startles you with what tenderness she gazes at you.

“i understand that you are fearful, y/n.  i had presumed you would not have come if you had known we would be here.  but i would not have led you to bridgerton house if i did not think you would be safe here.  the bridgertons are the most inviting, kindly family of the ton— of high society,” she amends upon seeing your confusion at the word ‘ton.’  their name for their world, it seems.  “eloise has assured me that we shall be in her bedchamber for the entirety of our time together.  and if you wish to leave, for any reason, at any point, i shall accompany you, and we shall leave together.”

with closed eyes you heave a sigh through your nose.  you flutter your eyes open and offer penelope a weak, but sincere, smile.

“very well.”

penelope squeaks in excitement, taking hold of your hand once more, giving it another squeeze of encouragement, and leads you towards this bridgerton house as she so called it.  she raps at the stately door thrice with great eagerness, seeming to knock in perfect tandem with your beating-too-quickly heart.

an elderly man opens the door, about to greet penelope and her guest, when a young femme shoves herself through the opening.

“thank you, giles!” she calls out as if the man is across the road and then looks at you, ferocity in her eyes.  it ought to unnerve you, the whirlwind force of this stranger, but it doesn’t.  you just return her gaze with a large, albeit a bit bemused, smile.

“penelope has shared so much about you,” the stranger states and takes hold of your hand.  “let us get inside!” and yanks you into the house.  she turns, looking straight ahead, and barrels forward, pulling you with her.

as the fiery femme seems to soliloquize excitedly to herself, you look back at penelope who merely wears an amused smile at her friend’s antics as she follows behind.

“oh!” the femme exclaims suddenly.  she halts you both and sharply turns to you, still gripping your hand, grinning.  “my name is eloise.  eloise bridgerton.”

“y/n y/l/n.”

“excellent.  now!  with introductions all sorted—”

and she turns and barrels you both right, rather than heading straight ahead to the grand staircase as you had presumed she would.

“eloise—” eloise’s fervency had provided a reprieve to your anxiety, but the confusion in penelope’s voice puts you back ill at ease, “where are you—”

“it’ll take just a moment, worry not, pen!”

eloise leads you down a hall, noises and voices of all sorts coming from an entrance to a room, growing louder and louder as you approach until they reach the peaks of their volume as eloise halts you both once more, to your mortification, at the entrance of that very room.

“family, penelope, y/n, and i shall be in my bedchamber.  we have much to discuss.  please do not bother us,” eloise proudly announces to the entirety of the room.

silence falls.  all eyes—and there are many eyes—are on you.

oh, my god.

you turn to penelope.  her overall manner is calm and composed, but you can see the disquiet in her eyes.  she peers into you, the apologetic look conveying, i did not know this would happen.

you turn back to the family.  

a lady.  a lady of older age.  two gentlemen with a difference in age.  a boy.  a girl, the youngest amongst them.  

how is it with a house this massive in the middle of the city that the entire family is present in this one room?  well, the room is the size of the two floors of your home combined, if not larger, so in that sense it is sound—but your question still stands.

this has to be the entire family.  surely.  there are so many of them.  this has to be the entire family.  yes?

“no talking, no music playing, no fighting?” inquires a droll voice walking into the room, “has someone—” 

you turn your head to follow the source of the voice and make contact with dumbfounded ocean eyes.   

butterflies flutter in your stomach.

oh.

shit.

“y/n, this is my second eldest brother, benedict bridgerton,” eloise states.  “benedict, this is my friend, y/n y/l/n.  do not bother us once we are in my bedchamber.”

he stares and blinks at you but then assumes a gentlemanly posture and bows his head.

“it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss y/l/n.”

without any forethought you start to extend a hand to benedict until you hear penelope give a slight cough only you, she, eloise, and he can hear.  receiving the hint, you retract your hand and pretend to swat at your skirt.

“err— yes.  likewise.” 

another cough. 

“mis, ter?— brid… ger?—ton,” you articulate with complete and utter uncertainty of how this world’s introductions function.

he cocks his head and furrows his eyebrows at you, something like amusement playing at his features.  he wears a lopsided smile that he is barely attempting to conceal.  his expression should be infuriating.  and it is.  but, it is... charming, too.  and welcomed.

you have never felt more embarrassed or more pleased in your life.

shit.

“before the three of you retreat to eloise’s bedchamber,” declares an authoritative voice, breaking your reverie.  you turn away from ocean eyes and see the lady of the room approaching you.  much to your surprise, she smiles.  to an even greater surprise, her smile seems sincere.  “i must insist that i introduce myself and the rest of the family to our guest.  

“i am viscountess kathani sharma bridgerton, the lady of this house,” she curtsies with perfect elegance.  “it is a delight to welcome you to our home, miss y/l/n.”

“thank you for having me— lady bridgerton.  and you may call me ‘y/n.’  you need not use such, uh, formalities with me.”

“very well; then you may call me ‘kate.’”

you furrow your eyebrows.  she had introduced herself as ‘kathani’ but now asks you to call her ‘kate.’  it makes you think of mama and papa; they shared with you once how they had chosen to go by different names upon emigrating to england.  when you had asked why, they simply replied that it would be easier for others in this country to address them.  

“may i call you ‘kathani’ instead?”

surprise flashes over the dignified demeanor of the viscountess.  she regards you with softness in her eyes.

“yes.  yes, you may.”

resuming her full composure, kathani guides you to the eldest of the gentlemen and introduces him as her husband, viscount anthony bridgerton, the lord of the house.  he offers you a small smile with a bow of his head and greets you ‘good day.’  you try not to wince at his decorous use of ‘miss’ with your first name, but you suppose it is merely in these people’s natures.  

kathani continues and leads you to the lady of older age, introducing her as dowager viscountess violet bridgerton.  she dips into a lovely curtsy and, on her rise, gazes upon you with a gentle smile.  you feel compelled to respond in kind, but it would certainly not be as graceful as hers, and worse, she may interpret your slovenly attempt as a lark.  so, you refrain.  

the viscountess next introduces you to mister colin bridgerton (you summon all your self-restraint to keep your countenance neutral—this is the boy who hurt penelope); then to mister gregory bridgerton (he bows so ceremoniously towards you, you cannot help but be endeared by his resolve); and lastly to miss hyacinth bridgerton.

“why are you dressed like that?” she inquires.

“hyacinth!” the dowager viscountess reprimands.  she must be her mother.  she sounds like a mother.  it reminds you of how your mama reprimanded you and your siblings as little ones; the memory and the exchange make you hold back a laugh.

“what!  what did i say wrong?”

you ought to feel self-conscious, your lower standing brought into further display to everyone in the room, but you detect neither malice nor judgment in the young girl’s voice.  just genuine curiosity.  so, you smile.

“my family and i have different means to clothes, amongst other things.  i wear these when i work or go about my day.  though,” you regard your attire and then— hyacinth?, feeling the glimmer in your eye, “it makes for running around and playing make-believe quite easy.”

“make-believe!  gregory, do you hear that!  miss!— miss—“ she turns to you with a cocked head.  

“y/n.”

her eyes shine once again.

“miss y/n plays make-believe!  we must play!” hyacinth latches onto your hand and, with remarkable strength for a child who cannot be older than two and ten, pulls and drags you towards the entrance of the room.  “come along, gregory!  wouldn’t want to be the last one there!”

“no fair!  you cheated!” the second youngest shouts back, dropping all previous ceremonies, and scrambles towards the entrance.

“hyacinth!  y/n is not your playmate!  she is here with me and penelope!”

“plans do change, dear sister,” hyacinth retorts.  eloise’s jaw drops, and the rest of the family bursts into laughter.  the entire exchange warms your heart.  in so many ways, they are so proper, so wealthy, and yet they are not all so different from your own family.  they seem to really care for one another.

“when did you get so smug!” eloise shoots back.

“small wonder where she could’ve learned that from,” you hear colin, the traitor, murmur.  turning your head, you see him give amused, pointed looks to eloise and kathani.  the latter grins wickedly, and her husband beams at her with pride. 

“there are only so many hours in a day!” hyacinth complains.  you face her once more, still holding her hand.

“what about this?  i will play with you and your brother for an hour, and then i will be with your sister and penelope for my remaining time here.  i want to honor the wishes of each of my new friends.”

hyacinth considers this with much theatricality to her expression.  she then grins.

“that is an excellent plan,” she remarks, looking to eloise for her thoughts.  you follow her line of sight.  eloise rolls her eyes and sighs, but a smile rests on her lips.

“very well, then.”

feeling peace restored, you smile in return and, in doing so, in your periphery, catch the ocean eyes of the second eldest brother.  benedict.  he is looking at you.  why is that?  you feel your cheeks flush and the tips of your ears heat.  his gaze is somehow gentle and intense and indecipherable all at once, and the flutterings in the pit of your stomach grow, and intensify, and start to overwhelm you—

when you are tugged back to reality with a tug forward.

–

< hyacinth leads y/n through the house to the gardens with gregory by her side.  y/n is both uneasy and in awe of the things she sees.  eventually, they arrive in the gardens.  y/n notices two swings hanging off of a large branch of an old tree and is utterly endeared by the sight; it confirms what she has been thinking:  though the bridgertons are wealthy, they are warm and welcoming.

< just as hyacinth declares that she has found a suitable spot for make-believe, two male voices ask if they may join.  hyacinth, gregory, and y/n turn and see benedict and colin approaching.  colin shares that though y/n seems lovely, it would be unwise of the family to leave the two youngest with a stranger; though y/n agrees with his family’s caution, she refrains from wanting to strangle the person who hurt her friend.

< gregory whines and asks if they can begin before eloise complains.  hyacinth agrees and says that they need to assign characters.  y/n suggests that hyacinth should be a sorceress and gregory should be a knight; these proposals delight the youngest bridgertons.  y/n volunteers herself as the villain and decides to be a banshee; she turns to the elder bridgertons and asks what they wish to be. 

< before they have a chance to respond, hyacinth proposes that benedict should be the princess who has been captured.  benedict indignantly asks why, and hyacinth simply states because he is the most sensitive of the family.  sensing how the sibling argument is about to evolve, y/n intervenes and suggests that, like a sensitive princess, perhaps benedict is merely in tuned with his emotions, even amidst adversity; it is, in its own way, a compliment.  benedict’s eyes become indecipherable upon the comment, but he wears a small sincere smile.  gregory then proposes that colin is y/n’s changeling henchman. 

< make-believe ensues, and it is very sweet and very silly.  eventually, gregory is called in for latin tutoring and thanks y/n for the fun with a deep bow; hyacinth is called in for pianoforte lessons. >

hyacinth launches herself at you with a hug.  pulling back from the embrace, she beams.

“we must continue when you return next!”

before you can even start to reply, she turns and skips off towards the house.  you hear how gregory makes a comment about coming in first, and suddenly the youngest bridgertons are in a race against one another, shouting taunts and insults.  you can’t help but smile.

“they seem to quite like you.”

your smile falls.  you turn and face towards the two elder bridgertons, the traitor being the one to have spoken.

“colin bridgerton,” you begin, “yes?”

he smiles and nods.  you surge forward and shove your finger into his face, his smile now wiped.

“if you ever hurt penelope again, i shall make certain that it is the last time you ever do.  do i make myself clear?”

when he does not respond, you repeat yourself, and he slowly then quickly nods.  satisfied, you turn towards ocean eyes and point your finger at him.

“and you look after him.” 

“what did i do?”   

“be a proper elder brother and serve as an example for your misguided sibling.  understood?”  

“i— yes.  of course.  understood.” 

you smile again.

“wonderful.  i am glad we three are in agreement.  it was good speaking with you, gentlemen.  good day.” 

you turn away and start to walk towards the house.

“i quite like her too,”  and you hear the restored smile in the third bridgerton’s voice.  “what about you, brother?”

you hasten your steps towards the house.  though mere moments before you had felt emboldened and brave, you fear hearing benedict’s response.  you do not why.

–

< eloise, penelope, and y/n extensively discuss literature and writing; upon talking about women writers, y/n shares how she does not fully see herself as just a woman. >

“so, what are you?”

you wince.  you have kept good on your promise and joined eloise and penelope in the former’s bedchamber, but you are swiftly wishing you had been able to stay with hyacinth, gregory, colin even, and benedict.  you had attempted to explain an aspect of yourself to eloise but not to very much fruit, it seems.  you want to hide and escape and run from this place—

“eloise.”

—when penelope comes to your defense.  

“what?  what is it?”

“perhaps you could have phrased your question with more tact and thoughtfulness.”

eloise looks between the two of you, concern flooding her eyes.

“did i— did i not?”

penelope turns to you.

“are you comfortable to answer?”

“i would prefer that i didn’t.”

you hope that your eyes are sufficient enough to convey the immensity of gratitude that you feel towards penelope in this very moment.

“y/n,” begins eloise, “i did not realize—”

“and what are you three gossiping about?”

you jump, penelope squeaks, and eloise growls a noise of exasperation.  turning towards the voice in the doorway, you are visited, once again, by the third and second bridgerton siblings.

“and what makes you think we are gossiping?” demands eloise, “because we are w— people?”

you feel the corners of your mouth tug upward.  at least she is trying.  wanting to keep the attention on benedict and colin rather than yourself, however, and with genuine curiosity, you cock your head at the two gentlemen.

“do you two always come in a pair?”

“not always,” replies benedict.  and he smiles at you, “today is merely a special occasion.”

stupid butterflies.

“speaking of such,” colin proceeds.  “kate has requested that the three of you join the family in the drawing room.”

< the five of them make their way to the drawing room.  kate shares that, on behalf of the family, she would like to invite both y/n and penelope to dinner.  though at first honored to have been invited, upon hearing “dinner,” y/n realizes how late it has become and looks out the window:  the sun is halfway set.  she apologizes and says that she cannot stay because she resumes work the next day.  her latter statement renders some of the people in the room confused, but kathani states how she understands and that y/n is welcomed to join dinner whenever she visits.  

< seeing how confused y/n is, anthony shares that y/n is welcomed to visit their home whenever she is able and whenever she would like, and the rest of the family pipes in with how delighted they would be if she does.  not knowing how she deserved such kindness from people who were mere strangers at the start of the day, y/n thanks the bridgertons and says that she would love to.  penelope chooses to stay for dinner and says that she will see y/n next week.  y/n affirms that she, and the bridgertons, will.

< kathani and benedict offer to escort y/n to the entrance.  y/n walks down the steps and passes the gate but, before she goes, takes one last look at number five until next week and sees benedict still in the doorway.  y/n notices, but reprimands herself for perhaps imagining it, that his smile grows when his eyes lock with hers.  with flutterings in her stomach, y/n offers a wave.  he gives a small wave back.  she turns and goes, smiling all the way home. >

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.ii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“benedict has been making more appearances as of late,” penelope remarks.

the three of you all look up—you and pen from your writing, eloise from her reading—to see benedict entering through the doors and heading towards the other side of the drawing room.  he looks over at you— at you all and offers a smile before he plops himself down onto a chaise and begins to draw.

“yes, it is strange,” eloise considers to the two of you.  “for so long he had been moping about, locked away in his bedchamber aside from mealtime or the occasional visit to the drawing room.  he’s even picked up his charcoal again.”

“again?” you inquire, averting your gaze from the artist to your friend.  “had he stopped prior?”

“he had entirely put it down after—” eloise sighs.  whatever memory she has recounted, it does not seem to be a pleasant one.  you look to penelope; you sense that she shares a similar sentiment by the sad look in her eyes.  you are curious but you choose not to press.  

“it has been quite some time since he’s last drawn.  but now, whenever i see him, whether in his bedchamber or the billiards room or some other room in the house, he’s drawing.  he frequently arrives to mealtime with charcoal stained fingers—much to the chagrin of mama and anthony.”

you all laugh.  benedict looks up at you three, and from here you can tell he wears a curious expression, no doubt wondering what you are laughing about.  when he exaggeratedly arches an eyebrow, eloise just makes a face at him.  benedict rolls his eyes, smiling, and for the briefest moment, you feel as though he is looking at you.  but you’ve always had an active imagination.  when you blink, he has returned to his drawing, a smile still on his lips.

“i wonder what has changed?” eloise softly says, still looking at benedict.  for all her fire and spirit, you see how deeply she cares for her second eldest brother.

“perhaps he has found a muse,” penelope poses rather than queries.  you shift your gaze from eloise to penelope, and you’re curious about her expression.  she seems... delighted?  benedict finding his passion for art again does sound delightful; you know firsthand how difficult it is to pick yourself up from a slump.  but that’s not what she seems delighted by.  she just looks at you.  with a soft smile.  why?  what does benedict have anything to do with you?

you feel your cheeks and the tips of your ears flood with warmth.  you don’t know why, but penelope’s expression unnerves you, in a pleasant sensational way.

you clear your throat.

“i am happy for him,” you say, returning to your quill and folded quarto, haphazardly writing down whatever words come to your mind.  

ocean.  charcoal.  smile.  flutters.

shit.

it is not until what feels like an uncharacteristically long moment later that you hear penelope resume her writing and eloise resume her reading.  you try not to imagine what they could have silently exchanged with your gaze averted.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.iii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

you suck in a sharp breath and shoot out of your seat.

“you do not!” you shriek, hastening towards kathani, eloise, and the stack of books they have just settled onto the table.  you had arrived early to the bridgertons’ home, at the invitation of kathani, so early that the rest of the family seems not yet to be awake.  

(which is strange, you find, as it is nearing 8 o’clock.  most mornings, at this time, you are already well into the bustle of work.)  

kathani had prefaced, rather enigmatically, that she and eloise had a surprise they wished to share with you.  you had your suspicions as to what it could be related to, and with each passing moment, you are suspecting, very excitingly!, that you are very correct. 

“indeed, we do,” kathani grins and gestures to the stacks.  

taking no hesitation to the offer, you grab from the top of a stack and open to the title page.

the dramatic works of william shakespeare.  vol. 2:  a midsummer night’s dream / the merry wives of windsor / much ado about nothing.

you shriek again, this time accompanied with hops of excitement, flipping to the final third of the book.

“much ado!  this is the one i’ve read!” 

dorothea, a fruit seller, had offered a copy of it to you (at a lowered price, she had emphasized) when she had learned of your liking to stories.  she grandly stated that she had started to write down the dialogue during low-attendance performances at the theater and then brought her handiwork to be typed and printed at a not-to-be-named press.  but if the pages’ handwritten annotations alluded to anything, you suspected that she had managed to purloin a performer’s copy of the script.  you felt a bit of pity for the poor performer who misplaced it, but you respected, and still respect!, dorothea’s moonlighting. 

you shoot your head up from the book and are greeted by the grins of your two friends.  “which one has romeo and juliet?”

this past autumn you had overheard several candlemakers at the markets animatedly discussing the ‘incandescent’ portrayal of the titular character by an actress from ireland.  a performance, described as ‘incandescent’ by candlemakers!  embodied by a storyteller who has emigrated here!  hearing all those wondrous things made you insatiably curious to one day read the text that made such wondrous things happen.

“i believe,” eloise says, pulling the second from the bottom of a stack, “it is this one.”

you twitch your fingers; you have to refrain yourself from snatching the book from your friend’s hand.  when it is in yours, you open to the title page and feel your eyes, along with your smile, widen.

“it is, it is!  oh, this is extraordinary!”  you flip furiously to your desired page and, once you find it, start to read,  

prologue.  two households—

—when you hear kathani say, “we had thought of starting with that one.”

that makes you rip your eyes away from the words and look up at the two ladies.

“‘starting with’?”

“when eloise, penelope, and i learned of your eagerness to read shakespeare,” elaborates kathani.  her saying that makes you flush; you had not realized with what apparent enthusiasm you had spoken of the poet.  “the three of us had discussed that the four of us could read his plays together.  if you would like, of course.”

your jaw drops.  you cannot help the squeal that emits from your mouth.  hopping once again in your excitement, you throw yourself at your friends and wrap your arms around them both.

“if i would like!  i would be delighted!”

you pull back from your hug with the two ladies and are greeted by gleaming eyes and wide grins.  you feel how your expression matches theirs.  it has only been a little over a month of your friendship with eloise and kathani, and the rest of the bridgertons at number five, but they each have somehow found a way to carve themselves out in your heart.  and if this most recent kindness by eloise and kathani indicates anything, perhaps you have found a way to carve yourself out in each of theirs.

(and you promptly ignore the thought of what that could possibly mean for ocean eyes and charcoal-stained hands, flutterings within you be damned.)

“how shall we allocate the book?” you say aloud out of genuine inquiry and a deep desire to revert your heart, mind elsewhere.  “shall we read passages aloud and then pass it on to the next reader?”

< eloise makes a remark that indicates her confusion at y/n’s question.  kathani, who is more privy to the situation, shares how she has her own copy as do eloise and penelope.  the stack that they’ve brought is an extra set that the bridgerton house has that y/n can use.  this perplexes y/n.  she cannot understand how a household can have multiple copies of a book, let alone copies of a whole anthology of many books.  before y/n can doom-spiral into thinking, penelope arrives at the entrance of the drawing room.  reading of romeo and juliet commences.  

< just as y/n finishes reading the scene in which romeo and juliet meet for the first time at the capulet ball and then kiss, y/n notices in her periphery benedict approaching the four.  kathani remarks how unusually early he is to be awake and ready for the day; y/n notes to herself how there seems to be some sort of mischief in the viscountess’s smile. >

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.iv ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“i shall be y/n’s teacher,” the viscount declares.

“you were adamant on her not fencing, and now you are insistent on being her teacher?”

“it would be hardly appropriate, colin, for two young unmarried men to be in such close proximity to a young unmarried lady, as proximity of teacher and student in fencing would require.”

“are you always this— antiquated?”  you inquire.

that earns a snort from kathani.  anthony, looking betrayed, turns to his wife; she merely shrugs in reply, mirth shining in her eyes.  he turns back to you, eyebrows deeply furrowed and mouth fully frowning.

“and what do you insinuate by that!”

“are you so distrustful of your own brothers, the ones for whom you have served, and still serve, as a model, that you think they would take advantage of me in such a situation—”

you sense how the eldest bridgerton is about to retaliate and arch a severe eyebrow at him in response; you refuse to be interrupted.

“or are you so unbelieving in persons of feminine dispositions that you think i shall be compromised by the mere closeness of a body different from my own sex?”

there is a silence, and though you cannot see them as you stare down the viscount, you can feel how the others exchange delighted glances with one another and hold back their laughter.

“you have two choices, my lord,” you offer.

“neither of them are suitable!  and do not call me ‘my lord’!”

“is that not the proper way to address you?”

“it is, but you—!” he huffs out air through his nostrils, like an indignant dragon in a fairytale; it is a very silly, very amusing sight.  “we have not even begun the lesson and you are already the most exasperating student i’ve ever had!”

you turn to colin and benedict, grinning.

“you two must have been saints then.”

“would you expect any less?” colin grins back.

your wide smile remains intact until your eyes fall on the expression of benedict.  you are entirely uncertain of what emotion he could be possibly feeling until he seems to realize where he is, and how you are looking at him, and breaks out into a brilliant smile with matching brilliant ocean eyes.  you quickly snap your head away from him, ignoring the fluttering of butterflies summoned within you upon the shift in benedict’s expression, and turn to anthony.

“shall we begin, then?”

–

it turns out that you are quite the quick learner when it comes to fencing.  after putting on a fencing vest that had previously belonged to benedict—

“because you are the shortest of the three of us, brother,” remarked colin after the second son inquired why it had to be his former vest that you were to wear.  benedict scrunched his nose and eyebrows in displeasure.  (perhaps you should have taken offense to his opposition, but it was truly of no personal consequence to you and the reaction it created in him was truly adorable.)

“i am not!”

“you are, indeed,” anthony deadpanned.

“prove it!”

and the three eldest sons of the esteemed bridgerton family stood next to one another, comparing their heights.  you turned to kathani, eloise, and penelope.

“are they always like this?”

“idiotic?” eloise deadpanned, sounding remarkably like her eldest brother.

“indeed, they are,” grinned kathani.

—over your blouse, you are immediately put to lessons.  anthony explains the basic concepts of fencing and then demonstrates elementary strikes and parries, occasionally adjusting your stances to the proper forms.  noting how quickly you took to the lessons, he calls for a match between the two of you to observe how you would apply your skills in combat.

“you are retaining information exceptionally well, as well as executing the techniques rather impressively,” states your teacher as you deflect his strike.  you try to hide your gladness in his praise as you smirk and push his blade away with the terzo of yours.

“ah, so my sex is not a detriment to my abilities; that is good to know.”

you hear snickers and snorts from around you.

“i said nothing of the sort!”

“did you think it?”

your opponent frowns further, slightly turning his head away from you to steal a glance at his wife.  he turns back to you.

“i did,” he admits defeatedly.

“it takes a true man of honor to rise up to his folly,” you remark honestly, as you strike anthony’s arm with the tip of your sabre.  loud cheers burst from the onlookers and an aghast but proud look emerges on the countenance of your teacher; you grin, “and a fool to leave his defenses so easily open.”

impressed by your display of sport, and seemingly overcoming his antiquation, at least for the moment, anthony decides that you will match against colin and then benedict.

“how are you to improve if you are to face the same opponent?” claims your teacher with his usual air of annoyance, but you detect his pride in your accomplishment.

it is also decided that the matches will end when one scores a point.

and so, you face colin.  it is easy to keep pace with him, not due to lack of skill on his part but complete and utter determination on yours.  you tried to convince yourself, in the beginning of your match, that the remnants of your anger towards the third bridgerton brother, and how he treated your friend, did not fuel your determination to score the point— but it did and does.  and successfully so, as you strike colin in his left shoulder.  perhaps you do it with too much force as the strike reels him off balance (and perhaps you are delighted that it has done so), but he quickly resumes composure and flashes you a grin.

“i see more and more everyday why you and pen are friends.”

that softens your heart.  you should be dubious of his charming remark, but you aren’t; it is too sincere, as is he, and you begin to see, even if minutely, why penelope cares for him.

“she has good taste in the company she keeps, i’m learning.”

that makes him laugh, as it does the others, and you look over and see how pen’s countenance shines with joy.  that is enough to put your anger towards colin at ease, and turning towards your defeated foe once more, you return his smile and bow your head.  bowing his head in kind, colin leaves, and in his place arrives your next and final opponent; he is smiling like a boy.  

“best for last?” he remarks as he prepares his starting position.  you roll your eyes, ignoring the warmth that starts to fill the center of your chest.

“this shall determine that,” and settled in your starting position, you and benedict begin your duel.

you have observed something of the eldest bridgerton brothers in your matches against them.  anthony struck like fire, bombastic and ferocious.  colin stood his ground like earth, his guards resolute.  and benedict— 

benedict moves like water.  free.  fluid.

as if he is dancing while dueling.

both you and he have reached a stalemate.  you have managed to parry every one of his strikes, and he has managed to deflect every one of yours.  you can feel how those watching are holding their breaths, waiting for someone to land the point.  

you try not to startle when you hear benedict’s voice as you guard against his strike.

“it takes quite an astonishing person to earn the praise of anthony bridgerton.”

“are you so surprised that i am such a person?”

“quite the opposite, y/n,” he catches one of your strikes and grins at you.  “i think you are entirely perfect in that regard.”

you roll your eyes once again but cannot help the blush that you feel spread across your cheeks as you push back his sabre with yours.  

“do you honestly think charm will win you the point?”

“do you find me charming?” you ignore the heat that creeps up your neck and the voice in your head that has already answered his question far too quickly for your liking.  “no, i do not think so lowly of such a formidable foe.”

and he winks at you.

and somehow, without you realizing how you got there, benedict strikes the center of your chest.

“but a little distraction does help.”

his point earns a round of groans and bleats from the crowd.  instead of looking offended, benedict just laughs and approaches you, gloved hand outstretched, a boyish smile once again on his face.  despite your loss, you cannot help but smile too.  you place your gloved hand in his. 

“it was a pleasure to duel with you.”

“yes.  likewise.”

perhaps you imagine it, but you feel his thumb swipe against the side of your hand.  it is featherlight, hardly felt with both your and his hands gloved, but felt nevertheless.  before you can process the sensation any further, he lets go of your hand.  with another smile, he bows his head at you as the crowd of people approach you both, penelope raving about your matches, eloise expressing her wish to fence now, anthony already commenting on what you could do better in your next match.

and without you realizing it, you gently swipe against the side of your gloved hand.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.v ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

"mama?  papa?"

it is a rare occasion when you, mama, papa, and your sibling eat together, and an even rarer occasion to do so for a second meal, but this night was such a night.  the three of them halt their conversation and look over to you.

"how did you know you were in love with one another?"

there is a small silence, but then, without looking at one another, they smile in tandem.

"it was at first sight, really, for me,” your papa says as he offers his hand to mama.  “as trite as that sounds."

mama takes his hand into hers.

"i as well."

"when i looked into your mama’s eyes, i knew that something was different.  that my life had changed."

"for the better, dearest?"

papa laughs heartily.

"no, actually.  it has been misery ever since."

you and your family laugh as mama playfully slaps at papa’s hand.  it warms your soul every time they do this, when they tease one another and are light because of the other.   it makes you believe in love each time.  

mama and papa lace their fingers together again, smiling, still gazing at one another.  as if it is just the two of them in their own world.  mama, turning her smile from papa to you, speaks again.

"the flutterings in my stomach wouldn’t quiet, and they only intensified as we approached closer to one another that day and grew closer to one another with time."

she looks nostalgic until something mischievous quickly overcedes her countenance.

"why do you ask, my dear?  has someone captured your eye?"

"or, better yet, your heart?" papa tags along.

ocean eyes and charcoal-stained hands flash by in your mind.

"no!" you say too hastily.  "no, of course not.  it’s— for one of my writings, is all."

you repeatedly poke at your bit of boiled chicken to avoid any further inquisition from your parents’ gazes.

–

sat by your window, you stare up at the night sky when the voice of your sibling infiltrates your dreaming.

“it’s one of the brothers, isn’t it?”

you whip your head over to them.  they don’t even look at you; they are preparing for bed.

“pardon me?” 

“is it the artist brother?”

“what!”

fluffing their pillow, they smile.

“so i am correct.”

“i didn’t even say anything!”

“that is not true.  you said ‘what.’”

“that reveals nothing!”

pleased with the setting of their bed, they ruin their work by plopping their bottom onto it as they finally face you in what you realize now is a confrontation.

“of course it doesn’t, the word on its own.  your reaction, however?  could not be more transparent of your feelings.”

“i have no feelings!”

“is that why you asked mama and papa about being in love?  because you have no feelings and you need to be told what they are?”

“i!—— i am going to bed!” you lift yourself up from your seat at the window sill, turning away from the peace of the night sky, and crash onto your bed.  you lay on your side, faced towards the wall, refusing to make eye contact with your sibling.  you lift up your sheet with too much force and lay it over your body and head.  “good!  night!”

after some silence, you hear the creak of your sibling’s bed and, a moment later, feel a featherlight touch on your upper arm.  you give it a thought, and perhaps against your better judgment, you lift off your sheet, turn, and are greeted by the gentlest of expressions from your sibling.

“i think it is wonderful, y/n.  whoever it is, they are very blessed to have your affections.”

your heart swells.  you love your sibling.

“how did you know it was the artist brother?”  

“so i am correct!”  they smile with a shrug.  “i deduced based on how much you’ve been writing about paint and charcoal as of late.”

you almost shoot upright from your bed.

“you’ve been reading my writing?”

“well, if they weren’t to be read, why do you leave them spread out on the table?”

“because there is no other place to store them!”

“and how good that is, or else i wouldn’t be able to read your fantastical stories or have been able to discover who your beloved is.”

“you are impossible!”

they kneel next to your bed and place their head on your shoulder.

“i love you too.”

you exhale the last of your frustrations, adjusting yourself a bit so that your sibling can rest their head more comfortably.  without realizing, you stroke their hair, just as you always have.

“i quite like the story about the mushroom family,” they state after some time. “i’m happy that the middle mushroom child befriends the peony and then the hyacinths.  i am happy they are happy.”

you feel your eyes start to drift.

“his name is benedict, by the way.”

you hear your sibling’s need for sleep in their reply.

“that’s a lovely name.”

“he is,” you murmur as the peace of the night falls over you.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.vi ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

“good day!— robert?”

“good day, y/n!” and robert holds the door of bridgerton house open for you to pass.

“pardon the confusion in my greetings—”

“no offense taken on my part!” the late adolescence beams.  you grin back.  with how utterly enthusiastic robert is all the time, one would think it is part of some ruse.  but it is not; he is just that genuinely delighted by life, you’ve observed.

“i am grateful.  i had expected to be greeted by giles, is all.”

robert frowns.  you feel the corners of your mouth tug downward in response, concern starting to swell your heart.

“he is ill at the moment.”

“ill!  with what?”

“i know not.  i had admitted the doctor perhaps not even a quarter of an hour ago.  but worry not too much, y/n!  from what the viscountess has shared with the servants earlier this day, giles shall make a quick recovery.  and lady bridgerton has yet to be wrong in anything!”

relief floods your body.  giles is of elderly age, so it calms you to hear that his ailment seems not to be too severe.  and you can’t help but smile not only by robert’s sunny temperament but also by his rightful faith in kathani.

“that is all good to hear.”

“shall i announce you to the drawing room?”

“oh god no.  i am quite all right, but thank you.”

“understood!  then i must pardon myself; i must retrieve miss bridgerton and miss featherington.”

“‘retrieve’?  are they not in the drawing room?”

“i was informed by dowager lady bridgerton, who was accompanied by miss bridgerton and miss featherington themselves at the time, that they would be in the gardens until your arrival and to retrieve the young misses upon your arrival.”

“i see.  well, i shall be in the drawing room then.  thank you again, robert.”

“it is my pleasure, y/n!” he beams once more and takes off to complete his task.

how odd, you think to yourself.  this day seems rather unusual to the ones you’ve had thus far at bridgerton home.  and it is hardly even noon!  you become lost in your thoughts as you approach the entrance to the drawing room—

when you are greeted by benedict, and benedict alone, lounging with his legs thrown over the arm of a chair, staring sternly at the page he draws on.

“oh,” is all you say.

benedict snaps his focus from his book to you, his countenance transforming from deep concentration to frustration to genuine surprise in a mere moment.  he scrambles up from his seat, book in one hand and charcoal in the other, posture now proper, and he bows his head.  

“miss y/l/n.”

never before have you been alone in a room with a man.  a gentleman.  a gentleman with a handsome face, charcoal-stained hands, and beautiful ocean eyes.

you roll your eyes.

“blimey, it is just me.  there is no need to bow.  and why are you calling me miss y/l/n?”

benedict smiles.

“all right.  y/n.”

shit.

perhaps that was a mistake.

“where has your family gone?” you inquire as you go to sit in the chair parallel to his, ignoring the flutterings within your stomach.  “it is uncommon to enter the drawing room of bridgerton house and not be greeted by talking, or music playing, or fighting.”

smiling, benedict falls back into his seat and resumes his drawing.

“hyacinth is with her reading tutor; gregory is with his fencing instructor; colin is eating some sort of pastry, i am certain, in town; anthony and kate are likely— preoccupied—”

you snort; benedict’s smile grows broader as he smudges charcoal with his thumb, a small furrow in his eyebrows now forming.

“and mother has managed to rope eloise into learning about the flowers of the gardens, and eloise, being eloise, has roped penelope into doing the same.”

“and what of you?”

“and what of me?”

“why have you chosen the drawing room as your whereabouts?”

benedict cocks his head towards his drawing.

“it’s in the name of the room, is it not?”

“ah, a man of wit, i see.”

“i am a man of many attributes, y/n.”

ignore the butterflies.

“such as?”

“what attributes would win your favor?”

“so that you may lie to me and say you possess them?”

“of course not; the list is merely too long and i shan’t bore you with a soliloquy.”

“so, a man of thoughtfulness.”

“oh yes, a myriad of thoughts.”  

“name one.”

“how much i am enjoying our conversation.”

and benedict shifts his ocean eyes from his drawing to you, a smile on his lips.  he is being playful, but you detect no deceit in his expression.  it infuriates you, really.  how charming he is.  how endearing.  how sincere.  

you return his smile.

“as am i, benedict.”

you sit in comfortable silence a moment more until benedict breaks the gaze, returning his oceans eyes and smile back to his drawing.  his smile, however, does not last for very long.

“this sketch, on the contrary—”

and he rips out the paper from his book, crumples it in his hand, and throws it onto the carpet of the floor, giving his deed not another moment’s notice.  he puts his charcoal to a new page in the moment next.

your smile falls.

“do you know how much paper costs?” you demand.

benedict looks back up at you with scrunched eyebrows and a smile having returned to his lips.  he tilts his head.

“why?  should i?”  he inquires.  nonchalantly.  delight in his ocean eyes.

as if you are making a jest.

as if this is amusing.  as if this is nothing.

it reminds you of a recent memory.

eloise had generously given you sheets of paper.  hitting a stride in your writing and wanting to continue, you had asked, after much internal deliberation, if you could have a ripped half of a quarto upon running out of all negative space on your current one.

“have a foolscap.  have a whole lot of them, actually,” she said easily, taking a good chunk of her stack and handing it off to you.

“eloise, are you certain?”

“of course.  it is just paper, after all.”

“right.  yes— of course.  thank you.”

eloise hummed affirmatively in response, returning to her passage, as you stared at the small stack of foolscap in your hand.  that amount of paper would have been eight months’ wage, perhaps even more.  

a gentle touch of a hand on yours brought you out of your clouding thoughts.  you looked over and saw penelope looking at you softly.  understanding her unspoken thoughts, you held her hand and gave it a squeeze.

thank you, you mouthed.

"i must be going,” you say aloud.  “goodbye, mr. bridgerton.”

you stand, turn, and quickly exit the drawing room. 

“y/n.  y/n!”

you hear him scuffling up from his lounge and start to follow you.  you hasten your steps towards the entrance.  

moments before you can open the doors of bridgerton house to the respite of the outside world, you feel benedict take hold of your wrist, stopping you in your steps, and it infuriates you how gently he does it.  how you can pull away from his touch if you want to, how you can just go if you choose to.  but you do not.

it infuriates you how much you want him to hold you.

you turn to face him.

“please— wait,” he breathes.  “what did i do wrong?  what have i done to upset you?”

you look at him incredulously.  then it dawns on you.

“please.  tell me,” benedict practically begs.  with such softness in his voice.

it infuriates you.

“i know money is of no concern to you, or your family, or fair ladies and pretty gentlemen.  but it is for the rest of us.  for the rest of us who have to work to keep the ones we love fed, clothed, warmed, sheltered.  that is a fact with which i have been concerned since the very moment i could think for myself.  and for you—of the male sex, of pale skin, of inherited riches—it is something to discard onto the carpet of one of your family’s many houses.  the paper you threw to the ground would have paid for a month’s worth of warmth for the entirety of my family’s home.  and you ask me what you have done to upset me?”

he says nothing.  he just looks at you, damned ocean eyes and all.  gentle.  attentive.  like he could care; like he does care.

you feel your nostrils flaring, your blood pounding in every vein of your body.  you finally rip your wrist away from his loose hold, already missing his touch.

“i shall take my leave.  please give my regards as well as my apologies to eloise and penelope.  goodbye, benedict.”

you turn away from him, yank the door open by its handle, and step outside, walking composedly at first, then quickly, then sprinting, then running.  to be as far away from number five of grosvenor square as you possibly can be.  to be far away from crumpled up paper, charcoal-stained hands, gentle touches, and ocean eyes.  

you rub your wrists against your eyes.

stupid bloody tears.

stupid fucking heart.

why am i so afflicted by this?  why am i crying?  why do i hurt?

because i love—

no.

you cannot fall for him.  he is someone you cannot have, cannot want, cannot— cannot…

it cannot happen, the two of you.

and most likely of all, you are not someone he wants.  not someone who he would love.  not the way you—

you are a fool for getting this far.  but these feelings, they will pass.  somehow.   you will forget them.  you will forget him.  this is not the fairytales you read, not the fairytales you write.  daydreams, hopes, love for a gentleman— there is a reason you are a writer.

you write the things you can never have, the things that will never happen.

you and benedict will never happen.

this is the prayer you tell yourself that evening before sleep takes you.  you pretend not to be affected by the tears that afflict you as you do so.

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.vii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

< y/n does not go to number five the next week on her non-work day as she had grown accustomed to.  she had tried to write at her table in her home to preoccupy herself, but her teardrops were ruining what she had already written.  she considers going to work to distract herself, but y/n knows her unexpected presence would be a detriment to her fellow workers’ established flow of day.  she decides to go to the markets to try and get fresh air and a change of scenery and to do anything to interrupt her spiral of thoughts and emotions.

< while at the markets, y/n hears her name called and turns to see penelope in her blue cloak.  y/n asks what penelope is doing here, and penelope gently replies that she can ask y/n the same thing.  she shares with y/n how, the week prior, after she received news that y/n had left bridgerton house, she left to find y/n in the markets and at her workplace but to no avail.  

< their conversation continues.  penelope shares how y/n was missed last week; by her, by the family, by benedict.  y/n tries to dismiss her words and how the past few months have been a mistake and that she shouldn’t be there with pen or the bridgertons, that she’s not meant to be in their world.

< with patience and empathy and grace, penelope gently encourages y/n to return to bridgerton house next week, and y/n, though her heart aching and reluctant, agrees because she misses them. >

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ I.viii ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

you sigh deeply.

have courage, y/n.

and you rap your knuckles twice against the stately door of number five.  a moment later, the door opens, and you are greeted by a beloved grin.

“miss y/n!  i have not seen you in weeks!”

you cannot help but smile back.

“good day, giles.”

“oh, where are my manners!” and the elderly doorman bows at you.  you huff out a laugh, feeling how your face contorts with distaste. 

“blimey, please don’t.  i am not a lady, giles.”

“you could’ve fooled me, miss y/n.”

you shoot him a severe look; he merely continues to grin.

“you know of my feelings towards being called ‘miss.’”

“i am getting older; my memory frequently fails me, miss y/n.”

“and yet you’ve recalled how we haven’t seen each other in two weeks.”

“three.”

you grin.

“precisely.”

“well, it was quite the surprise when I fell ill the following week!” then giles frowns.  “and it was an even greater surprise to have not seen you when i had returned the week following that.”

you look at the ground, unable to face the inquisition in his sad, kindly look, but when you bring your head back up, you manage a smile.

“it is no matter.  i am here now.  that is most important, yes?”

the elderly man smiles.

“yes, i suppose you are right, y/n,” and he holds the door open for you to pass.  

“aside from bouts with ailment, how have you been, giles?”

“still standing upright, still opening and closing doors,” he beams without a bit of sarcasm.  “and what of you?  how have you been?”

“i’ve been—— well.  and the family?” you say quickly, wanting to move the conversation away from you and your feelings.

“the same as is to be expected.  though—” 

concern starts to swell in your heart.  what has happened in the fortnight you have not been present?

“mister benedict has been absolutely despondent.”

“oh,” is all you say.  giles’ gentle joviality transforms into solemnity, and it makes your heart ache even further.

“on the rare occasions i do see him now, he is leaving for the gentleman’s club in the bright light of day and coming home at an ungodly hour, drunk as a wheelbarrow, wreaking of what smells like every available spirit in london.  he had stopped dipping rather deep sometime ago, much to my relief, so it was an utter shock to return to my station and to see him back on the cut, and deeply at that,” the elderly man sighs.  “i wonder what has happened for him to be so…” he unexpectedly turns to you, his countenance sanguine, “do you happen to know?”

you swallow as you ignore the sensation pooling in the pit of your stomach.

“no, i— i do not.”

“i see.  well, whatever it might be, it is clear how much it deeply afflicts him,” and giles offers you a small, sad smile.  “you know mister benedict; he has always been the most sensitive of the family.”

i do.  

i do know benedict.

you clear your throat.

“do you happen to know where eloise and penelope are at this moment?”

giles cocks his head at you but is kind enough (you thank the heavens) not to press your change of topic.

“the last i had seen them, they had spoken of viewing the art gallery.  do you know the way?”

“i am unfamiliar.”

he smiles again, and it makes you smile in return.

“then i am most glad to escort you there.”

–

giles opens the doors to the gallery, and ahead, in front of a portrait, you see the turnings of penelope, eloise, and—

“y/n,” he utters.

“benedict,” you breathe.

and he looks just as surprised as you are.  

you look to giles, his eyes wide and mouth agape, and then to eloise and penelope.  upon seeing their expressions, you feel your eyes narrow.

“ah, penelope!” shouts eloise.  everyone else turns to stare at her.  “with y/n’s arrival, i must change out of my, my art gallery viewing dress!  and— and, into my... drawing room!  sitting— dress...”

eloise scrunches her entire face in displeasure, confused by her own poorly concocted excuse.  that does nothing to deter her, however, from clamping onto penelope’s wrist and barreling forward towards the doors of the gallery.

“come along, pen!” she calls out to the friend she is pulling right behind her.  as they pass you, eloise gives you a strange and strained smile bearing all teeth, and penelope offers apologetic eyes and an encouraging smile.

giles looks to you, to benedict, and to the two escaping ladies.  mouth still agape, all he manages is,

“i suppose— i shall see to that— miss bridgerton and miss featherington arrive to miss bridgerton’s bedchamber... safe—ly…?”

he mouths, i’m sorry!, at you before quickly bowing his head at benedict, fleeing the scene with remarkable speed for an elderly man who has recently recovered from illness, and leaving you at the entrance of the art gallery.

closing your eyes, you deeply inhale through your nostrils as you place your hand to the space between your eye and your temple.  on your exhale, you wipe your hand hard against the side of your face and open your eyes, whipping your head to look at the second eldest bridgerton brother.  it seems that he has been staring at you this entire time, stupid (stunning) ocean eyes and all.

“would you like to paint a picture?” you snark.  “you are the artist in the room, and it would certainly last longer.  or perhaps you have run out of paper?”

he does not respond, indecipherable expression unchanging, and it unnerves you how guilty you feel at goading him, at taunting him, and he merely takes it.  you sigh again and cross the gallery to where he stands.  resisting the urge to look at him again, as you feel his gaze still on you, you instead look at the painting ahead of you.

it is a portrait of a gentleman.  with dark chestnut hair and mutton chops.  he wears a blue jacket, a darker blue vest, a cream cravat, green breeches, and brown boots.  a watch on a ribbon hangs from his vest; it looks familiar.  he looks familiar.  a benevolent smile rests on his lips.

you look at the plaque at the bottom of the gilded frame.

edmund bridgerton, the 8th viscount bridgerton.

you look back up at the painting, captured by a particular feature.

“you have his eyes.”

“his are gray; mine are blue.”

you roll your eyes but smile despite yourself.  (you try to ignore the flutterings that bloom upon hearing his voice again.)

“yes, but that’s not what i was referring to.  they peer into you— not with scrutiny, nor judgment, but with kindness, curiosity, compassion.  an eagerness to learn about you.  pools of welcoming.  cool tones that radiate warmth.”

you cough, ripping your eyes away from the portrait to inspect the scuffs of your boots.  you feel embarrassment spread throughout your entire body as heat creeps up your neck.

“the painter is excellent at their craft.  it is as if i know him, your father.”

silence falls in the expansive gallery, the calm and kind eyes of viscount bridgerton looking down upon you and his second eldest.

“i’ve missed you.”

you snap your head up to look at benedict, your eyes making contact with his ocean ones.  welcoming and warm.  honest and... hopeful?

i’ve missed you, too.

“benedict, it has only been a fortnight since we saw each other last,” you respond aloud, your voice coming out so much softer than you had intended.  you offer him a small smile, an olive branch of sorts.  something of relief starts to fill his ocean eyes, but his demeanor does not change.

“i behaved arrogantly, and you did not deserve to be the recipient of such behavior.  no one does, and i am so— i am so sorry, y/n.”

and you know he is.  you resist the urge to touch his cheek, to comfort him with your caress, to selfishly have your skin touch his.  instead, you look on at him.

“i do not ask you to grant me your forgiveness; i know i am unworthy of it.  i just— i just wanted you to know how i felt, and feel still.  and how i shall work on myself to be better, to do better.”

the butterflies in your stomach flutter maddeningly.  you emit an exhale from your nostrils.  the urge to touch him intensifies, and you feel yourself flex your hand to let go of the sensation.  you huff out another breath, and smile brightly, sincerely, at benedict.

“well,” you begin, “with our friendship renewed, care to show me what other paintings you love in this gallery?”

benedict’s ocean eyes beam with relief and joy, a brilliant smile lighting up his face, and it takes all your self-control not to drop all discretion and wrap your arms around him in a crushing embrace.

“i would love nothing more, y/n,” he declares.

you try not to flutter your eyes closed at the words ‘i,’ ‘love,’ and your name in the same breath from benedict’s lips.  at the pleasantness and home you feel in them.  you smile on.

“where shall we begin, then?”

you and benedict walk together as he approaches a miniature in a wooden frame ornately carved with floral motifs.  he admits that he has not the slightest clue which bridgerton ancestor this is, and that makes you snort.  grinning, he points out how adeptly the artist portrayed the translucency and fluidity of the lady’s veil and how particularly impressive it must have been to accomplish such effects in paints during the early 1600s, if the remnant dating of the artist’s signature is correct.  you remark how particularly impressive it is that a painting has endured two hundred years of existence, details still intact, and benedict responds simply that rich people have a way.  that makes you snort again, and that makes benedict grin again.

he then leads you to a portrait of kathani and anthony, the viscountess sat in a chair with the viscount stood behind.  you marvel at the painting—how much it looks like them, how much it captures kathani’s confidence, how much it captures anthony’s conviction, how much it captures their love.  excitement coloring his voice, benedict imparts to you how he was given the opportunity to observe and assist the painter on the days the latter was commissioned to portray the viscountess and the viscount.  he also shares with you how impossibly difficult they were as models, always giggling and kissing and looking away from the painter and talking to one another, being overall sickeningly saccharine.  you chortle and share with him how that does not surprise you in the least bit.  despite his annoyance upon recalling the memory, an incredibly fond smile rests on benedict’s lips.  turning from his lips back to the painting, you remark how in love they are, and he remarks that, indeed, they very much are—and turns his fond smile from the painting to you.

coughing, you walk over and ask about the landscape of an enormous building.  benedict names it as aubrey hall, the ancestral home of the bridgertons.  you recall how you had heard of it early on in your friendship with the bridgertons; you had been unable to see them one week as they were preparing for kathani’s first ball as viscountess at the home.  you also recall how the usually collected and confident kathani was anxious and uncertain during that time.  benedict, beaming with pride, says how, of course, she absolutely excelled and how all of the ton—he rolls his eyes then and you guffaw—enjoyed themselves at the event.  while kathani had done an unsurprisingly resplendent job, the ball was not very entertaining to benedict.  he much more enjoyed the annual bridgerton game of pall mall leading up to the event.  after announcing how kathani had won—much to the contradictory disappointment and delight of her husband—and answering your questions about what sounds, to you, like a very silly, very fun game, benedict suggests that you join them next year.  you laugh, finding it impossible to imagine yourself at a home such as aubrey hall, particularly for the entirety of three days, but your heart swells at the invitation and the sincerity in his voice, and you say aloud how you would love nothing more.

your spontaneous tour eventually comes to an end, and the two of you make your way towards the entrance, still discussing the various art you had seen.  as you and benedict walk out of the gallery, a thought crosses your mind.

“none of your work is on display.”

you notice how benedict stiffens.  you feel your smile tug into a frown.

“ah, yes.  i do not think my work is— up to snuff— with the work on display here.”

“horse shit.”

benedict’s jaw drops, his face aghast and regaled in reaction to what you assume is your choice of language.  you merely shrug.

“you have not even seen my work!”

“i do not need to see your work when i can already see how harsh you are being.”

he scoffs, and it aggravates you.

“fine— i will show you, then, and prove to you my point.”

“fine, then!  show me, and i will prove to you my point!”

–

“you are full of horse shit!”

you and benedict are in his bedchamber, where all his works are hidden away.  he has shown you canvas after canvas, sketch after sketch, charcoal drawing after charcoal drawing, his palette of color ideas— and he still has the audacity to say that his work is not “up to snuff” for the bridgerton gallery.

benedict looks aghast again, perhaps by your language, perhaps by what you are (very rightly, very correctly) insisting.  he shakes the canvas that he holds in his hand in your face.

“look at the proportions, y/n!  they are entirely off!”

you roll your eyes, swatting his arm away, and begin to rummage through his other work.  you pull a sheet and hold it up to benedict’s face.

“look at this sketch, then look at the canvas.  there is a very clear, marked improvement, and with only a—” you look at the dates at the bottom right corners for confirmation, “—a difference of two days!”

“what does ‘improvement’ mean if the improvement is not even good!”

“it is good!  and!  improvement is everything, benedict!  it is progress!”

“what—”

you and benedict jump back from one another by the sudden new voice.  you had not realized how close the two of you were as you were shouting at one another, how close your faces were to one another, how close your lips were to—

a blazing heat creeps up your neck, at the tip of your ears, and across your cheeks as you turn from benedict’s flustered face to the scowl of the eldest bridgerton sibling in the doorway.

“—are the two of you doing?”

“brother!  i— i was merely showing y/n my work.”

you vigorously nod your head.  anthony’s glare remains unaffected.

“alone?  together?  in your bedchamber?”

your heart almost leaps out of your chest, your eyes about to bulge out of their sockets as you look around the room, suddenly aware of where you are.  you are in benedict’s bedchamber.  alone.  together.

“i—” you start, very pathetically.  “i——  we—”

anthony curtly bows his head at you.

“y/n, i would like to have a word with my brother.  in private.  please.”

“of— of course, right— of course!”

you hastily put the sketch on a nearby table and walk towards the door, pass anthony as he steps in, and are about to run down the hall and away from the scene when—

you turn and steal a glance at benedict, mustering up all the apologies you can convey through your eyes.  despite the peril of his current predicament, his ocean eyes soften immediately, and a thousand butterflies erupt in your stomach and flutter around viciously.  he offers you a slight smile, one that is sincere and unregretful.  you offer one back, just as sincere, just as unregretful, before anthony gives you another bow of his head and closes the door.

–

“are you pleased by the results of your consorted trickery?” you state blandly upon seeing the young ladies that you thought were your friends sitting in the drawing room.

eloise looks up from her pamphlet, beaming at you, as penelope wears a wide and proud smile.  well, at least they have answered your question.

“trickery?” eloise feigns.  you roll your eyes; their expressions answer honestly, but their words continue their game.  “i have no idea what you are referring to.  pen and i were merely keen on viewing the art gallery today, and i thought, my blue-deviled of an elder brother ought to stop moping about; what better to get him to leave his bedchamber than by way of his favorite topic?”

“and his other favorite topic,” penelope adds.  eloise chortles, and you feel the tips of your ears heat.

“what is that supposed to mean!”

eloise waves a dismissive hand at you.

“benedict knew nothing of your arrival, as i am sure you deduced by his surprise,” but the second eldest daughter grins wickedly.  “though, from the sheer amount of time you have spent together thus far today, i am also sure the surprise was very welcomed, indeed.”

“by both parties, it seems.”

you promptly ignore the flush you feel on the apples of your cheeks.  your friends are lucifer incarnate split into two.

“well, then you must be delighted to know that your shared plot has led to punitive action against him.”

that surprises them.  (good.  you are relieved to finally have some sort of an upperhand in this conversation.)

“‘punitive action’?  by whom?  for what?”

“by—”

the three of you hear a set of footsteps.  you look to where the sounds are heard and see the two eldest bridgerton siblings enter the drawing room, the elder approaching you with conviction and the younger trailing behind him like a pet that has just been reprimanded.  the sight would make you laugh, if you weren’t the one to have instigated the current conflict between the two brothers.

anthony stands before you, posture perfect and chin held up high.

“y/n, thank you for your patience.  please allow me to apologize most ardently on behalf of my brother for his complete and utter lack of propriety.  it will not happen again as i shall be more vigilant in tracking his every deed.  i do hope this incident of my brother’s disrespect does not taint the beloved friendship between you and our family.” 

and he deeply bows his head at you.

your jaw drops.  benedict shuts his eyes tight and scrunches his face.  penelope bops her gaze amongst the three of you.  and eloise just howls, causing anthony to break the gravitas of his decorum and shoot a glare at her.

“it is no laughing matter, eloise!”

“it is harmless fun, brother!  a pursuit of intellect exchanged between two creatives, who also happened to be by themselves.  i have never heard of a baby being conceived from sharing some art.”

“ELOISE BRIDGERTON!”

you have now entirely hidden your face behind your hands; no one needs to witness the deep crimson that you are certain is spreading very rapidly across your countenance.  an absurd hope also blooms in you that if you cannot see the others, then the others cannot see you.

“what ever is the matter in here?” 

your eyes shoot open upon hearing the much needed voice of reason.  removing your hands from your face, you see kathani enter the drawing room, a confused expression worn on her face.  

“my dearest,” anthony begins, “i have offered my deepest apologies to y/n for benedict’s disgrace.”

“disgrace,” scoffs eloise, crossing her arms.

“disgrace!” reiterates anthony with increased fervor.  kathani’s confusion does not lighten.  she looks to benedict, whose eyes are scrunched closed again (his nose looks adorable this way), and then to you.

“are you all right, y/n?” she inquires gently.

“i—” you had intended to say, am well, but that would be a lie.  you are utterly mortified.  so, instead, you state the truth.

“benedict has been a gentleman.  he has treated me with the utmost respect, and when he has done wrong by me— which!  which has nothing to do with our being in his bedchamber!—  he—” you steady your voice, determined to say this right, as you know and feel it with and in your heart, “he has corrected himself and bettered his words and thoughts and deeds.”

“you hear that, brother?  no harm has been done.”

“eloise, you were not even there!”

“i believe what eloise means, anbe, is that you are being dramatic.”

“dramat— they were in his bedchamber, kathani!  together!  alone!”

kathani rolls her eyes, her attempt at diplomacy entirely gone.

“speak louder, anthony; just a bit more and the entire country shall hear you.”

the viscount pouts grumpily at his beloved, emitting a huff of air through his nostrils.  

“you must trust y/n by her word,” the viscountess states.

“or do you not trust someone of feminine disposition to speak for herself?” eloise inquires.

“pen!” 

you all snap your gazes to the entrance of the drawing room and see colin making his way to your friend in blue, followed by—

“y/n!” shouts gregory and hyacinth as they run towards you.

“y/n, penelope!” remarks violet and approaches you both.  “how delightful it is to see you!  you—” she says, reaching out for your hand, gently taking it in hers, and smiling kindly at you, “—in particular.  it has been a moment, y/n.” 

it melts your heart, really.  the sincerity of affection that flows so easily from violet bridgerton.  you recall the kind eyes and benevolent smile of her late husband.  it is no wonder you so easily fell in love with this family; true, real love is woven into the very fabrics of each of their beings.

you look at them.  hyacinth and gregory cling onto your slides, holding you tight.  kathani and anthony are engrossed in debate, affection in their eyes despite the heat in their words.  colin and penelope speak with and blush around one another as eloise, unknowingly (and, in your opinion, frustratingly, endearingly), butts into their conversation.  and benedict.  who, with the gaze of the entire room no longer on his so-called indiscretion, is looking at you.  softly.  with those damned, wondrous, bewitching ocean eyes.  a smile on his lips that makes the flutterings in your stomach unbearingly, wonderfully unyielding.

you truly, really love this family.  

you love the bridgertons.

“though,” the dowager viscountess starts.  

shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you see how violet looks at the others in the room as half of them now pointedly avoid eye contact with the matriarch and the other half share a similar sentiment to her.

“is everything all right?” she turns to you, peering curiously into your eyes.  “has something happened?”

you cannot help the laugh that bubbles out of you.  violet seems taken aback by your reaction, as are the others in your periphery, but her eyes, as well as theirs, shine on.

“i think,” you say, smiling, “it is just another day with the bridgertons.”

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #penelope featherington #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #violet bridgerton

[orthopunkfox]

Being queer and a Christian is often very difficult. I experience alienation from both sides. Often these two parts of myself feel impossible to reconcile. But, I want to share something beautiful that my priest does that nearly makes me weep every time. The Orthodox Church is not known for its inclusivity or progressiveness. It is ancient and its gears turn slowly. During Holy Communion, those who are not confirmed members of the Church may come forward for a blessing. The blessing is done by gender.

"The servant of God [Name] is blessed..." for men,

"The handmaid of God [Name] is blessed..." for women.

The first time I went up for a blessing, I was hesitant. My gender is no secret and I do not try to hide my queerness. Which blessing would I receive? With sadness, I concluded the priest would do what was simplest and default to my assigned gender.

I stood before him and bowed my head, arms crossed over my (noticeably growing) chest. He raised the golden chalice over my head and lovingly said:

"The beloved of God Quinn is blessed, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen "

He has done this ever since and with this simple action, preaches one of the main, if oft forgotten pillars of Orthodoxy: It does not matter who you are, what pronouns you use, what colour your hair is, what clothes you wear, what mistakes you've made, what trials you have overcome, where you came from or where you are. You are beloved of God just as you are. You are created in the Image of God and are a sacred vessel of beauty, and there is a place for you here.

This is true inclusivity. Not the white liberal veneer placed on so many churches where the cishet, boomer congregation pats themselves on the back for the rainbow flag outside while actively misgendering the trans person sitting in the pew. My priest has not given any big speeches talking about how everyone is loved here. He doesn't have to. His genuine kindness and that of my fellow parishioners are the only sermon marginalised people need to hear. In these moments, the two parts of myself become one and I truly believe that the God I love delights in me.

#queer christian #orthodox christianity #orthodoxleftist #faithfullylgbtq #orthodoxy #trans christian #orthodox church #inclusiveorthodoxy #thisglassdarkly

[wlwcatalogue]

Chinese GL Webseries & Shorts for the Wuxia-Uninclined

Have you ever wanted to venture into the world of Chinese GL webseries and short films, only to find yourself at a loss about where to begin, or intimidated by the unfamiliar tropes and terms of the wuxia genre?

Well, worry no more! Here's a selection of non-wuxia webseries and short films curated by yours truly. Now you too can enjoy the lavish costumes and location shoots of these Chinese productions, so rarely seen in F/F works outside of feature films and the occasional TV series~

By the way, these are all translated and subbed by the inimitable Douqi (@douqi7s), whose immense contribution to the English-language baihe fandom is surely in breach of anti-monopoly laws. Offer up your thanks at her Tumblr and Twitter!

At-a-glance list

Webseries:

Ye-Mu Season 2 (1 hr 20m total, 2023) - standalone

The Vampires (41m total, 2022)

Ye-Mu Season 1 (27m total, 2022) - standalone

The Lost World (1hr 5m total, 2023)

Short films - order corresponding to the pictures above:

A Tale of Yearning (5 mins, 2022)

"She Brought Colour Into My World" (2.5 mins, 2023)

"I'm Her Weapon" (3 mins, 2022)

Miss Shen and the Woman Warlord (6 mins, 2023)

Women's Script (5 mins, 2023)

The Caged Canary (5 mins, 2023)

The Beauty of the Law (6 mins, 2023)

Flowers Bloom; Flowers Wither (9 mins, 2022)

Commentary under the cut!

FYI, I've opted to link directly to the subtitled versions since they're probably more difficult to find than regular anime, TV series, movies etc. If a link is broken, please refer to Douqi's blog directly.

Important note for the uninitiated:

It’s a bit difficult to talk about canonicity in relation to live-action works made in the PRC, as things which would normally be used as evidence of canonicity all fall under the censorship regulations— explicit references to romantic relationships or queerness, declarations of love, kissing etc. are all off the table. So while these may not look canon in the most traditional sense, they are intended to be read as such and should certainly not be dismissed as queerbaiting or yuribait. Also, the creators can get very imaginative, so this is less of a problem than you may think – see the entries on Ye-Mu Season 2 and The Lost World in particular!

1. Ye-Mu Season 2 / 叶穆 2 (32 episodes / 1hr 20m total, 2023, dir. Zhang Zhiwei) - MyDramaList

(Note: Despite the name, Ye-Mu Season 2 is completely unrelated to the first season; the only thing the two share is the cast, crew, and focus on Penthouse-style melodrama.)

Determined to take revenge for her mother's death, Xu Baiqing (Sheng Wei) marries a wealthy and much older businessman in the hope of finding evidence to put him behind bars. But first she must assuage the suspicions of his cheerily hostile second daughter, moody youngest son, and estranged eldest daughter (Ye-Mu Zhixia, played by Wang Laoji), the latter of whom Xu Baiqing dated in university and who is currently seething at the sight of her former girlfriend marrying her father...

If you want to get a sense of the potential breadth of Chinese GL webseries, this is a pretty good place to start. It does a decent job of matching the tone and presentation of a melodrama you might catch on TV (and in fact looks higher-budget than some I can think of), while committing to something that can’t be done on TV yet— namely, featuring an F/F exes-to-stepmother storyline and delivering on the drama inherent in such a premise. Of particular note is how the framing and behaviour of Ye-Mu Zhixia is very much consistent with that of a male romantic lead; thanks to some clever writing, it’s basically impossible to deny the nature of her relationship with the main character. They don’t even lean on the plausible deniability afforded by the label of “friendship”— in fact, in an early scene she is incensed when the protagonist refers to her as “[her] only friend”. There are a few caveats – the main character ends up in a lot of scrapes that her ex-girlfriend has to save her from, the reveals are often rather unsurprising, and the story shifts more to a mystery focus around halfway – but it’s still worth checking out if a Korean-style melodrama with an F/F take on a romantic storyline sounds appealing.

 (CW: violence, murder, attempted sexual assault)

Note: See The Lost World (below), from the same creative team, for an even more impressive example of Chinese GL pushing the limits of censorship.

Links: MEGA / Internet Archive (compilation)

2. The Vampires / 吸血鬼鬼盲盒 (7 episodes / 41m total, 2022, dir. Zhang Zhiwei) - MyDramaList

(Note: Spoilers for the first 15 minutes or so, because otherwise the summary would be “They end up locked inside with the monsters on board”, which wouldn’t tell you much more than the title already does)

Every night, Tianyue (Ye Miao/夜喵) has been having dreams about the mysterious cruise ship docked at the pier. Convinced that there is treasure hidden inside, she and her exorcist-cultivator girlfriend Xiao Ling (Wei Miao/微渺) sneak on board only to find that they are trapped there until the sun comes up. Things don’t seem too bad at first: although they run into two vampires – the cute, cheeky Xingming (Yang Fuyu) and her elegant mistress Su Tanya (Sheng Wei) – they are able to call a truce, on the condition that the humans help search the ship for the latter’s beloved (Fu Cha, played by Wang Laoji). But when Fu Cha wakes up without her memories, it is clear that something is terribly wrong, and that the ship and its inhabitants harbour more secrets than expected.

For a webseries, The Vampires takes a while to get started— it’s a bit difficult to tell what kind of story or indeed what kind of tone it’s going for just based on the somewhat campy and comedic first section. But after that wobbly beginning, it manages to pull itself together to tell a compelling – and sometimes genuinely tense – tale about a motley band of humans and vampires, and the truths they have to face together. While the ending is no happily-ever-after, I found it satisfying and hopeful, and surprisingly affecting. Also, a bunch of the characters have real polyam energy, and this is reflected in the narrative beyond mere flirting!

(CW: abusive parents)

Links - MEGA / Internet Archive (compilation) / YouTube (compilation)

3. Ye-Mu Season 1 / 叶穆 (12 episodes / 27m total, 2022, dir. Zhang Zhiwei) - MyDramaList

(Note: Ye-Mu Seasons 1 and 2 are standalone stories; each season is entirely self-contained and the second season is not a continuation of the first.)

The head of the Ye-Mu family has died, leaving the next generation to squabble over the inheritance. It's a web of secrets, lies, and hidden resentments, as the characters dig out old grievances and fresh accusations in a desperate attempt to one-up each other. They're tangled up together to an almost incestuous degree, and indeed, the F/F subtext here is the ambiguous relationship between eldest daughter Ye-Mu Nanzhu (Sheng Wei) and second daughter Ye-Mu Nanmo (Wang Laoji) (rest assured that they are at least not biologically related).

Those who prefer darker stories and don't mind the pseudo-incest or other content warnings will find a melodrama which makes good use of its short runtime to deliver on twists, turns, and an explosive - if tragic - conclusion. That being said, the story is about the family drama in general, so do note that while the relationship between Nanzhu and Nanmo is narratively important, it is not fleshed out in great detail and certainly not the focus of the series.

(CW: suicide, ableist trope (spoiler – disabled character turns out to have been faking it), ableist language)

Links - MEGA / Internet Archive (compilation)

4. The Lost World / 夏夜知道风的甜 (1hr 5m total, 2023, dir. Zhang Zhiwei) - MyDramaList

(Note: Spoilers for the purpose of flagging triggering content, as it’s particularly easy to trip into for this show. Also, some vague spoilers for later episodes in order to highlight in order to highlight the themes etc.)

This webseries feels like two shows smushed into one: apart from the very beginning, the first half is a gritty, bullying-focused take on university life, while the second is a true-blue romantic comedy (aside from one blip – see the note below for details). But even if you’re wary of the bullying, I would still recommend watching the back half – which is basically standalone – as it’s a very funny and heartfelt story about two childhood friends finally getting their act together. Without further ado, here’s two blurbs!

From episode 1 onwards: After saving a classmate from the class bully, popular college student Xia Huaichu (Yang Fuyu) is subjected to a lengthy harassment campaign by the latter. She is suddenly faced with having to protect her reputation in the face of false allegations and fake nudes– despite the fact that all she wants to do is focus on reconciling with another classmate, a high school best friend whom she had previously lost touch with (Mu Qingfeng, played by Wang Laoji). From episode 14 onwards: Childhood friends Xia Huaichu (Yang Fuyu) and Mu Qingfeng (Wang Laoji) are caught in a weird gay purgatory where each has feelings for the other, and suspects that the other has feelings for them too. But both are exceedingly stubborn and want the other one to take the initiative in confessing, leading to ridiculous displays of I-don’t-care-isms and lots and lots of UST. (Does anybody use that term anymore??)

As you may have guessed, I’m not too keen on the first part of this show, nor the decidedly unnecessary attempted rape segment, though that’s partly on me for not checking the content warnings beforehand. And yet I’m very glad to have stuck with it, because the second half is not only hilarious, but also a masterclass in censorship-dodging that needs to be seen to be believed. Not just in terms of the suggestive scenes, of which there are many, either— the story is literally about two women starting a relationship and having to reckon with parental disapproval, homophobia, and other obstacles which platonic friends wouldn’t have to deal with. I honestly don’t know how this ever got approved, and can only applaud. Bravo.

Note: For those who want to avoid the triggering content, I’d recommend starting at episode 14, but make sure to skip episodes 19 and 20 as there is a foiled rape attempt.

(CW for entire series: bullying (incl. violence, fake nudes), sexual harassment, attempted sexual assault, fatphobic language, homophobia

CW for episodes 14-24: attempted sexual assault in episodes 19-20, homophobia)

Links - MEGA / Dropbox

SHORT FILMS

Quick note: Click on the English titles for the subtitled versions, and the Chinese titles (which are really just the video titles) for the originals. And yes, although the majority of these are shampoo commercials, they really do hold up as short films in their own right. Give them a try, you might be surprised!

A Tale of Yearning / 一见误终生，不见终生误 (5 mins, 2022, dir. Liu Yun Rui/流云蕊) – A bittersweet story about a literature-minded young woman (Sheng Wei) and a Chinese opera performer (Ai Ye) who bond over their love of fiction, only to be torn apart by harsh reality. Tragic ending, but I liked the more literary turn of the dialogue. Shampoo ad. (CW: homophobia)

“She Brought Colour Into My World” / “她走后，我的世界又失去了颜色” (2.5 mins, 2023, dir. Zou Hui Qu Le/走回去了) – A very restrained short film (actually, more like a music video) set during the late Qing era, wherein a sheltered young woman (Xiao Yu Za/小宇咂) falls for her female neighbour, recently returned from studying abroad (Sheng Wei). Lovely use of music and visuals to create a dreamlike atmosphere. Tragic ending. Not a shampoo ad.

“I’m Her Weapon” / 我是你手里的一把刀 (3 mins, 2022, dir. Liu Yun Rui/流云蕊) – A moody, interior piece about an assassin (Ai Ye) who yearns for some sign of affection from her handler (Sheng Wei), only to be left devastated by her new assignment. Surprisingly not a shampoo ad.

Miss Shen and the Woman Warlord / 我们是孤独行走的钟，但也要做敲响希望的钟 (6 mins, 2023, dir. Liu Yun Rui/流云蕊) – I’d like to describe this as being inspired by the story of Mai Jia’s novel The Message and the aesthetics of Kawashima Yoshiko (1990), but most Tumblr users would probably find those references deeply unhelpful. Basically, a female spy (Sheng Wei) disguises herself as a male soldier and infiltrates the mansion of a Republican warlord. There, she meets the warlord’s daughter (Ai Ye), who quickly realises that there is more to the promising young officer than meets the eye. Shampoo ad.

Women’s Script / 纵使“科考”无女子，无碍红袖书香，星辰有光 (5 mins, 2023, dir. Liu Yun Rui/流云蕊) – While sailing down a river, a girl (Zhi Chun He/至春禾) catches sight of a woman writing poetry on the riverbank (Sheng Wei), and is fascinated by both her beauty and her flaunting of the rules against women’s literacy. Shampoo ad. (CW: domestic violence)

The Caged Canary / 如果这是一场骗局，那我也只愿意输给你 (5 mins, 2023, dir. Liu Yun Rui/流云蕊) – The protagonist (Ai Ye) is sent by her parents to beguile a wealthy young man into marriage, but ends up developing feelings for his modern-woman sister (Sheng Wei) instead. Shampoo ad. (CW: attempted sexual assault)

Flowers Bloom; Flowers Wither / 她们一个被铁链禁锢，一个被男装束缚，直到救赎彼此 (9 mins, 2022, dir. Qian Li Min/千里明) – Takes the romance between a cross-dressing noblewoman (Du Ruo/杜若) and her supposedly-mad stepmother (Rou Lian Cheng/肉脸橙) to tell a story about the restrictions placed on women in historical times, and how resistance, even when futile, can still have meaning. Tragic ending, obviously. Not a shampoo ad. (CW: domestic violence, misogyny, accidental misgendering, gender dysphoria)

#sapphic #lesbian #gay #wlw #baihe #chinese gl #yuri #gl series #wlw series #short films #wlw recommendations #ye mu #wicked wealthy women #the vampires 2022 #the lost world 2023 #xia ye zhi dao feng zhi tian #zhang zhiwei #liu yun rui #wang laoji #wang xuexi #sheng wei #yang fuyu #ai ye #list

[dancermk]

HELLO MY FELLOW TRAVELERS!

I, like many viewers, have been completely entranced by Hawk and Tim’s love story in Fellow Travelers. As a mature queer person, this show has been very emotional, and I am deeply invested. (I WILL riot if Tim doesn’t get to die in Hawk’s arms, and know that he is, and has always been, loved by Hawk.) But I digress.

Something that I have been fascinated by are the differing opinions that have surfaced about the characters, especially Hawk. I’m not looking for any arguments here, everyone is entitled to their opinion, and this is simply mine. To me, Hawk falls hard and fast for Tim. He breaks all his own rules for Tim - they topple over like a house of cards.

When we are introduced to Hawk, he’s cold and heartless with the men he hooks up with - they are nothing more than a body to fulfil his sexual needs and desires. He doesn’t do repeats and he doesn’t bring them home. But Tim, he instantly begins returning to, gets him a job, then allows him into his own apartment, etc. When Tim pushes back, Hawk relents further, letting him in emotionally, sharing parts of his past, crossing lines by introducing him to others in his circle, and so on.

Hawk is a traumatised man, carrying guilt and anger and shame, and a bucket load of fear! Yes, he has some internalised homophobia, but interestingly, he’s also extremely righteous about his homosexuality -and I don’t believe he thinks being gay is wrong in any way. (His response to his father is indicative of this).

I can personally say that I’ve never thought it was wrong to be queer, yet I spent much of my life hiding who I was and feeling shame. It’s an odd thing! Perhaps it is that the shame forms purely from what is outside of us, while what is inside of us can love another person of the same sex, knowing it is right and pure. Perhaps these contradictions between self and society are what causes so much pain and conflict?

But back to Hawk. Hawk is undoubtedly most affected by his teenage first love experience. A love that he fucked up through his own fears (fear for many men is unacceptable and a sign of weakness), and now carries the burden of believing he is responsible for their death. Hawk doesn’t allow himself to love again, until Tim. And we see many times throughout the show how much Hawk fears losing Tim. And in the end he’ll have to face that fear. I think that, in part, not attempting to have a life with Tim, is also fuelled by his fear of fucking it up and losing Tim - so it’s easier to just not attempt it! In episode 7, when he loses his son, part of that spiral is Hawk recognising that he can’t really prevent loss, and he wasted his life trying to be something he’s not - still losing his child and Tim along with it.

But Hawk is a survivor! And no one has the right to hate or judge him for it. I don’t think some young people truly understand what it feels like to live in a world where who you love can put you in jail, and destroy your life. I grew up in the 70s/80s and my experiences were bad enough, but I try so very hard to think about what it was like before that! When being queer was a crime and a mental illness! That’s pure terror! And for Hawk, he chose to survive the best way he knew how, and he wasn’t able to change because that’s fucking hard when all you’ve known is living in constant ‘fight or flight,’ and when have chronic trauma and experience collective trauma.

I think in episode 8 we’ll finally get to see Hawk grow - I certainly hope so - because he deserves to be free. Our beautiful Skippy has been free for some time, and while we mourn for the cruelty of a world that would take such a truly decent man, I am glad he got to live freely. Being closeted is the worst kind of suffering- a compartmentalised and fragmented existence where you are never truly whole, and therefore can never be the best version of yourself.

Before I go, I just wanted to also talk about being in a closeted relationship-which I experienced in my youth. I think that Hawk and Tim’s intense and toxic and exquisitely beautiful relationship, in part, arises from this. Because two closeted people in love live their relationship in secret, in a bubble, only in certain rooms, with none of the outside world reflected back at them. It becomes the two of you against the world. It’s so insular. Hawk and Tim literally live their 1950s relationship within two rooms - their apartments. All their memories are held within those walls. And it only belongs to them. They know each in ways that no other living soul does. It’s all-consuming and often unhealthy, but also stupidly romantic.

Anyway, sorry for this long winded post that no one will read and is likely full of grammatical errors because I’m tired! This atheist is praying we get everything we need from episode 8! Acceptance, forgiveness, understanding resolution, healing and a whole lot of love! ❤️

Cheers queers! 🏳️‍🌈

PS Matt and Johnny are exquisite on and off screen and I am so thankful to them for bringing these characters and this story into our lives!

#fellow travelers #hawk and tim #hawkins fuller #tim laughlin #hawk and skippy #matt bomer #jonathan bailey #lgbtqia #queer media

[bulbabutt]

if i can be corny for a second i wanna talk about the greatest strengths of the 2003 tmnt series and why it speaks to me (esp as a queer person)

so i might have alluded to this before, but let me say it outright: each show is definitely a product of its time, and the ideals of whatever generation its from. whether talking about the humour, the story, the dialogue etc, its always important to remember that these shows will always come off in a way due to the generation theyre from. and thats not a bad thing! it just means its important to think about them from that perspective.

2003 is a show of my generation growing up, and a thing about that era that maybe some people younger than me wont understand is there is so much more language commonly available to describe yourself now than there was then. you can take this in any context; mental health, sexuality, gender identity, or even just the ability to describe your relationships with more (idk if this will be the right word) therapist language.

in 03 we have a family unit of splinter and his sons, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. we have a splinter who hasnt opened up to his sons about the trauma hes experienced, but not in a way of shutting them out, simply because it isnt their responsibility to know as they are teenagers. he tells them of the mutagen that created them, but not of his past with his master yoshi, who he calls father when by himself, but never around his sons which is just an interesting concept to think about.

(i do not intent this next sentence as ragging on the two shows after this when i say it, simply from a character standpoint) this is the splinter who completely doesnt make his problems his sons problems, but he also is very willing to tell them the truth when he knows they're ready. this is is the most idyllic version of splitner out of all of them, even when comparing to his mirage counterpart (who hes the most based on) due to that splinter raising them to be ninja specifically to make them fight shredder. this one is just their father who loves them and wants to keep them safe the best way he can, and he was never a human in the first place to even know how to be that. so this whole family dynamic starts with him, and the way he raised his sons reflects his parenting.

so, the setting and year this show is made is 2003. something very relatable here is how there isnt a lot of language for the personality quirks of the turtles. there's so much evidence here for mikey having adhd, his brothers will say things like "why doesnt mikey have to help?" and the answer is "well, he'd be bored. and whats worse, mikey not helping or mikey being bored?" its this beautiful moment of, "hey, we know its not fair, but thats how mikey is, and its better for everyone if we just respect that thats how he is" mikey cant keep his hands off stuff, they know this they dont yell at him for behaving that way, they just stop him. this coding feels the most specific, but like i said. its 2003. we dont have the words to describe what this is yet, and if we do its not common knowledge.

another example is in the classic episode where raphael meets casey jones. raphael is sparring with mikey, and he lashes out and nearly kills mikey. everyone reacts to this by getting him to stop, and no one is more upset than raphael himself. they all tell him to go get some air, which he does. theres no moment of any of them screaming at him for losing his temper, its very clear that they all know he's going to do that himself. and he does go get some air. they all know thats what he needs. he goes and meets casey jones, another hot head, and raph has to help coach this hot head on his anger. when he comes back at the end of the episode after having let out that aggression, he apologizes and no one is upset with him. there's a very clear understanding among his family that he cannot help it, but the best thing they can do is give him his space when he needs it. watching this from a 2023 perspective (20 years later) im sure we could analyze this as a few things going on with raph, my mind comes to autism but at the end of the day it doesnt matter why he behaves like this, the point is that he does and the best thing his family does is just...help him. which they do. and they never hold it against him.

when leo is going through his ptsd arc hes at his closest to raph as a character, the show draws a lot of parallels (like having him go let out some aggression with casey) and we get to see the dynamic in reverse. in "i, monster" (the rat king episode) leo is losing it, taking on rat king alone and not wanting to let up. raphael is actively holding his brothers back when they say "we shouldnt leave him to fight alone", raphael says "if leo gets in trouble i'm the first one in there, but right now it looks like leo's got more than one monster to work out of his system" raph doesn't exactly know what leos going through, but he recognizes it. he knows he needs to fight alone, so raph lets him. its only when the building collapses and leo is no longer in a safe position that he says "leo lets go", which leo wordlessly agrees with and actually listens.

this is what i think is the best part of these guys, the unconditional understanding they have for the way they are. we still have our "raphs a big hot head" "mikeys annoying" jokes, but they feel like genuine good natured sibling ribbing because they know each other on that level.

and to go back to the fact that this show is set in 2003, there's something so specific about the way mikey constantly makes references to liking women's clothing, to being fine with feminine language, and to being open about being the pretty turtle who "has that effect on minds of men" speaks to me as a queer person. this could easily be intended as homophobic jokes and probably is, because again.... its the mid 2000s, thats very much what media was like, thats what the jokes were. especially with the girly screams mikey does being one of the first jokes of this nature.

but theres something that happens in season 4, where an alien is attacking mikey, and donnie rushes in and says "hey, thats my sibling" that sticks out. and it happens again in fast forward. when talking to the dark turtles leo says "you and your brothers" "me and my siblings"

because of the way this family unit just understands each other without ever having a conversation about things, it feels like its not a joke. theres some kind of affirmation happening here. even if it seems like i could be reading into it too much, its specific! and it keeps happening!

and by the end of the show, when mikey says he wants to be maid of honour, even if that line in the media itself was intended to be a joke, no one in their family treats it like one. of course mikey is the maid of honour, he asked to be one! the only real offence taken is when april says bride's maid, to which he is offended because hes so much more important than that!

so from a story standpoint, this show doesnt have the intricate complexities and butting heads of latter iterations, there isnt much relationship growth to be had (in fact once we get to around season 5 the flanderization of the characters kind of begins and it loses some of the more complexities) but thats because its just not the focus of the story! the story is more about what they go through together, and thats fine! thats what our shows kind of were at the time. not saying there isnt any relationship growth, but its very much not the focus because these turtles? they already understand each other in a healthy way.

so to me, these guys are kind of the most wholesome family unit

#tmnt #tmnt 03 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt 2003 #2003 tmnt #can you tell im in my late 20s #lmao #this is why i did the silly st thing #cuz its relatable #thoughts

[rainbowsky]

GG and the Duomo di Milano

Duomo 2019 (left), 2023 (right) and 2024 (top).

He has posted a photo of it whenever he goes to Milan, since his first trip there in 2019. Here's my CPN on that.

Fake, fan fiction, CPN.

Of course, as an artist and a photographer it makes sense that GG is interested in this beautiful building. Gorgeous intricate architecture that is covered in lifelike statues, no doubt it is very satisfying to photograph. It's truly one of the most stunning cathedrals in the world. But we're turtles, so we're always going to look at things from a slightly different angle.

This CPN first came up back in 2019, the first time he went to Milan. GG said in an interview that he was excited to see the cathedral, and he posted a picture of it on his Weibo account. Turtles at the time speculated that GG was inspired by the photos that were all over the news in 2016, when same sex marriage was legalized there.

It was the location of massive LGBTQ rallies when same sex marriage was being debated and put to a vote, and was the site of equally massive celebrations when that vote won.

Some people are skeptical of this connection because they feel that the time gap of a couple years is too large for it to be relevant, but to me those people can't possibly understand how significant the same sex marriage fight is to queer people who wish to marry (and who wish to have their human rights recognized in general).

Especially around that time in history, when the fight was at its most active globally. There was a period of a few years where the issue was constantly in the news, as more and more countries were gradually recognizing legal rights for same sex couples. Images of those protests and celebrations were inspiring and exciting for queer people all over the world, and those who cared a lot about the issue followed that news pretty closely.

This is an issue of significance to queer people everywhere, even those who don't want to marry. It represents a shift toward acceptance and toward broader legal recognition of equal human rights for queer people.

Same sex marriage is a huge hurdle toward equality for anyone whose rights are at stake, because most of the opposition to human rights for queer people tends to come from religious groups and conservatives with narrow notions of 'family values'. When societies acknowledge - even on paper - that queer families are legitimate, the biggest barrier has been crossed.

Based on a lot of things I've seen from GG over the years I believe he's very deeply invested in Pride and gay rights. He's not at liberty to be as open about it as he'd like to be, but I believe he shows what he can. I have talked about that in more detail in this post.

I also believe that marriage is something that both GG and DD care a lot about. They are each others anchors in life, and even when they don't get to spend a lot of time together, they are home to each other. DD has also talked about wanting a son, and GG has also shown interest in children and family and often talks about a simple life.

They just ooze domesticity on many levels, and I think that even if it doesn't fit within their lives right now, they probably talk about and think about building a family together one day. And given the culture in China their parents likely want that for them as well.

I talked about the possibility they might already be married in this post. I talked about the possibility of them wanting kids in this post about DD saying he wanted a son, and later in this one from an OOL interview where GG mentioned envying Gu Wei's life.

Both GG and DD strike me as being connected to queer culture, just given some of their jokes, attitudes, etc. and some of the people they're associated with. Even their experience with filming CQL (which I talked about in this post). They're also both from the younger generation in China, which is much more progressive and informed on these issues.

All of this leads me to believe that it's not an accident that this landmark has captured GG's imagination.

The Duomo is also a very popular wedding/romantic photo destination, and where couples often propose.

I think that it's romantic that GG posted the moon over the cathedral this time. There are a lot of fake rumors and CPN around GG and DD and the moon, and turtles believe that they often send pictures of the moon to each other. They've both posted photos of the moon on social media in the past.

There have been a lot of posts about their connection with the moon over the years. A few of my favorites are Pie's post from Mid-Autumn Festival, Pie's post about Midsummer Moon (among other things) and of course the LRLG rumor that talks about DD taking pictures of the moon for GG.

Given what this landmark might mean to GG, it makes this photo even more special.

Or he could just enjoy photographing a pretty building. We'll likely never know for sure.

#bjyx #yizhan #gg milan fashion week 2024 #photographer gg #the mysteries of yizhan #lgbtpride

[virgo-dream]

virgo-dream’s dreamling masterpost

In honour of @mr-sadman’s Dreaming Week 2024, I have compiled this masterpost of all my fics and fanart!

I highly recommend checking the Dreamling Week tag to see some of the amazing fanworks created by this fandom.

Happy Dreamling Week! ☁️✨

☁️ fanfiction ☁️

✨ one shots ✨

golden hour

rated G / 695 words / fluff

Hob had two favourite times during the day: dawn and dusk. Opposite in their purpose but equal in their beauty, dawn brought new life to restful spirits every morning, while dusk tucked them in gently every night. Hob loved the soft, lilac tones that shifted into golden, that faded into oranges, purples and deep blues, over and over again, marking the passage of never ending time.

Another thing he liked, dearly, was seeing Morpheus under the light of the golden hour.

metaphors

rated G / 2.5k words / idiots to lovers

the one where Dream is fucking dense and Hob is desperately in love.

the night of the storm

rated G / 2.6k+ words / hurt/comfort

across from the shadow figure sitting on his armchair, and offered the best smile he could muster. “…rough day? I feel like you’re not doing very well. Don’t ask me why.”

Are you not afraid, Hob Gadling?

or: Hob Gadling comes home to find the shadows need a shoulder to cry on.

freely given

rated G / 4k+ words / whump, hurt + comfort

Dream had no idea how he intended to help Hob. It was the right thing to do. He had stumbled into enough of Hob Gadling's nightmares to know for a fact that disease wasn't something he took lightly.

daisy chains

rated G / 589 words / tooth-rotting fluff, idiots in love

Hob tells him to use the door but doesn't mind when his friend just shows up uninvited because to Hob, Dream will always be welcome. Dream, on the other end, wants to know more about Hob, be a part of his life, even if it means spending more time in the Waking World. And then, like every good thing, the physicality starts small: a pat on the back, a hand on the shoulder.

or: they don't know it, but they're falling in love.

spring roll for your thoughts

rated G / 2.3k+ words / domestic fluff

Dream and Hob both need a moment to rest after a long day at work. They both find comfort eating reheated leftovers and daydreaming about the future.

the miracle of song

rated G / 1k+ words / christmas fic

Dream of The Endless has a long standing history with avoiding music since the loss of his only son, Orpheus. His relationship with Hob Gadling might make him change his mind.

A story about love, loss, bad karaoke and Christmas miracles.

one of their own

rated G / 3.6k+ words / queer themes, first kiss

Hob Gadling invites Dream to a meeting of the uni's queer clubs at the New Inn. Dream learns more about his own gender identity, and that he's very much in love with his best friend.

glitter glue and butterfly stickers

rated G / 1k+ words / dreamling parents, tooth-rotting fluff

Hob and Dream have been married for over 10 years and are raising a daughter together. After a long day working on his thesis, Hob receives a letter from his 7 year old daughter Lucy, detailing her thoughts on an article he’d written.

safety net: a bolt in the blue story

rated T / 3.1k words / fic of a fic, mutual pining (set in the universe of @valeriianz’s bolt in the blue)

Endless is in the middle of its first headline tour, and Dream has been doing his best to hold his own in the ever changing routine of touring. After one particularly intense concert, Dream finds himself extremely overwhelmed, and relies on the help of his trusted bass tech, Hob Gadling, to ground himself again. In the process, he finds that a few feelings have become impossible to ignore.

some mornings: a man of good fortune story

rated G / 1.1k+ words / domestic fluff, omegaverse (set in the universe of @softest-punk’s a man of good fortune)

Some mornings are easier than others, when one finds themselves in the state Dream is currently in. He remembers how mornings were when he was pregnant with Orpheus. As winter slowly approached their home by the sea, some mornings became harder than most for Hob.

A story of finding new purpose, switching roles and falling in love again and again. The moon is also there.

✨ multi-chapter ✨

when I wake up, there are only your eyes to greet mine (complete)

rated M / 14.2k+ words / victorian soldiers au

Five times Sergeant Robert Gadling woke up to Captain Morpheus Apeiron. One time Morpheus woke up to Hob.

A very unlucky battalion finds itself in the command of one Captain Morpheus Apeiron. He doesn't seem particularly worried with their survival, but mostly with ending the war as soon as possible. Sergeant Robert Gadling seems to be the only thing keeping all these young and inexperienced soldiers alive. After one particularly heated fight between them, Hob ends up discovering there is much more to his Captain than meets the eye, but is he seeing Morpheus as he truly is, or through the prism of his own desire?

may dream (incomplete)

rated M / 7.5k+ words posted / hurt/comfort

It's been 10 days since Dream of The Endless was rescued from Fawney Rig by one Hob Gadling, who takes it upon himself to see to Dream's recovery. While with Hob, Dream is provided with something he'd been missing even before his imprisonment: to be cared for.

☁️ fan art ☁️

he’s wearing the north face jacket

change or die magical girl

happy birthday dream sketch

thursday night at the drag bar

Halley’s Comet mini comic

come here often?

softest-punk’s witcher au fanart

avelera’s giving sanctuary fic cover

#dreaming week #dreamling week 2024 #Dreamling masterpost #fic masterpost #art masterpost #dreamling #the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #hob gadling #dream x hob #morpheus x hob

[sevensoulmates]

Buddie Meta 7x03 + 7x04 (Part 1 of 4)

Mostly 7x04 but I'm gonna include a bit about 7x03. So fair warning for a lot of talk about Buck/Tommy, but as always this will always be a Buddie canon/endgame positive space. Ain't no one jumping ship here. Once again, I apologize for my shitty screenshots and also warning: my meta does include some speculation and all of my meta are long AF, so this might be one you want to read in bits or when you have time to read something long.

Starting with 7x03. A lot of people speculated that the direction and blocking of this scene is likely foreshadowing, and I'm inclined to agree. First, we start with Buck and Eddie standing next to each other as they're known to do, and when Tommy joins them, he stands right in between them, foreshadowing that he'll be in the center of this speculated love triangle. Eddie is the first one to step away from the trio, leaving Buck alone with Tommy (foreshadowing how Buck and Tommy will have a romantic relationship).

Buck then has a solo moment with Tommy, which is already an interesting choice all on its own. It's a fact that Buck just met Tommy for the first time during this whole ordeal. It would make more sense for Chim or Hen, or hell even Bobby, to be the one to come talk to Tommy to say thanks. But the script called for Buck. This was done for a specific purpose, and now we know it's because they planned to put Buck and Tommy together romantically in the next episode.

Buck places his hand on Tommy's shoulders to say thanks. Up until this point, Buck and Eddie's primary way of sharing their feelings with each other has included shoulder touches. To me, this shows that Buck views these strong meaningful shoulder touches as a way to express strong feelings, something he's learned from Eddie (given that in all of the show, Eddie is always the one touching Buck's shoulder like this). This could also be interpreted as Buck unconsciously viewing Eddie's shoulder touches as romantic, so much so that Tommy picks up on it through Buck.

With that being said, with the context of 7x04, we also know that Tommy reads this shoulder touch as a sign that Buck might possibly be queer and/or possibly interested in him romantically. Interesting how this is the second time Buck's done something he views as "normal straight behavior" and queer men have interpreted it as him hitting on them (TK and now Tommy). And yet all of these things are actions Buck regularly does with Eddie and vice versa. So in-universe these actions have queer undertones according to the writers. Why wouldn't this then also apply to Buck and Eddie's relationship? At the moment, it's because Buck and Eddie themselves don't realize the extra meaning. But I predict they will eventually (maybe even sooner than we think).

Buck gives his unconscious "signs" by touching Tommy, and Tommy responds back by smiling flirtily and reaching back to touch Buck, almost to try and catch his hand, symbolizing Tommy responding to Buck's queer signs, and foreshadowing how he will be the one to take things a step further in the next episode.

Lastly, Buck walks away from Tommy towards where Eddie went earlier. This symbolizes how the Buck/Tommy relationship might have some missed connections (ie their hands never touching) and likely some miscommunication. And at the end of the day, Buck's attention will always be on Eddie. His path will always be to follow wherever Eddie goes. This is even more evident by the next episode which might be my new fave episode of 911.

Moving onto 7x04. The bachelor crossover call marks our first big season 2 callback. A bunch of beautiful women hit on Buck and Eddie at the same time. The last time this happened was in 2x04 Stuck when the 118 responded to the drunk girl with her head in the tailpipe. Women hit on them and Eddie says "I don't think I'm what you're looking for. I have a son" and Buck says "Thanks but no thanks I have a (invisible) gf". These are two very obvious and unnecessary excuses not to get with beautiful women that both the writers and the characters call out. And as we all know, this leads to the iconic "they weren't my type" "not mine either, not anymore" scene, and the rest of that episode is the catalyst for Buck and Eddie becoming as close as they are. The whole "they weren't my type" convo was a pretty obvious queer-coded scene. And this call-back in 7x04 isn't any different.

Eddie now has the (convenient) excuse that he's "taken at the moment" (note: he doesn't say "I have a girlfriend", another point for gender-neutral terminology in this episode). It's literally the exact same excuse as last time except this time Eddie has Marisol but she isn't even important enough to have a 2 second scene in this episode where he's all over another man, so. Make of that what you will. Additionally, Eddie adds a time limit to his relationship with Marisol by saying "at the moment", which means that subconsciously Eddie is aware that his relationship with Marisol will be temporary (however long that might be). He could've just said "Sorry, I'm taken, but he's not" if he really viewed his relationship properly as a long-term, possible forever relationship, but the "at the moment" is a purposeful line to let everyone know that Marisol is just a passing ship in the night. So for those who are still unsure about Eddie/Marisol rest assured everyone on every level knows it's gonna end eventually. Maybe even sooner than we think.

As a proper hetero wingman should, Eddie directs attention to Buck, who's surprised and actually makes up an excuse not to get with any of them because he "has a rule he doesn't date people (GENDER NEUTRAL) he meets on calls". This is a direct callback to Eddie during the cemetery scene in 6x15 when he says dating people on calls never works out, which ended up being a fulfilled prophecy given that Buck/Natalia break up in the interim between 6x18 and 7x01. This also comes up yet again later in the episode which I'll talk about later.

This provokes a weird reaction from Eddie, who doesn't understand why (single) Buck would turn down a bunch of willing single women. Additionally, I want to provide some context that the lovely @911bts mentioned which is that it seems like the network asked 911 to swap the bachelor call from 7x05 to 7x04. ((This is why we were getting info/stills about Hen/Henren but not really much of them in the ep. Their stuff was swapped with the Athena/Harry stuff). So there's additional context to this scene in that it was originally supposed to be Buck HIDING something (Tommy and their date) from Eddie and Eddie picking up on the weirdness of it. This then begs the question of why Buck would've wanted to hide this info from Eddie in the first place.

BUT it's now final that this scene is in 7x04, which loses some of the juicier context, but it's still showing that Eddie finds Buck's actions weird in that Buck appears to be losing interest in dating women at the moment, which is foreshadowing his lightbulb bisexual moment at the end of the episode.

This is tiny, but I find it interesting how Tommy follows very closely behind Buck's space, leaning his chin into Buck's shoulder as they walk, KNOCKING HIS ARM INTO BUCK'S FROM BEHIND (I don't need to explain that this is a Buddie thing), keeping near constant eye contact, and very obviously looking up and down Buck's body several times. Idk, I just appreciate the subtle queer hints even before the queerness is unmistakable at the end.

Tommy pointedly says "You didn't call me just to see the toys". From Tommy's perspective, he's unsure if Buck is queer/into him yet, but Buck reaching out to hang out might be the first indicator that he is. Or the hetero explanation is that Buck might be thinking of learning how to be a pilot. I really don't think we have anything to worry about with either Buck (or Eddie) leaving the 118 to be in air support, but it's an interesting metaphor. Safe and familiar vs. brand new and exciting and maybe a lil scary. The entire conversation is a thinly veiled metaphor for sexual fluidity which is later then proved by the ending. Also I want to point out that most of this convo pre-Eddie appearance has Buck appearing to have more of an awe/hero worship for Tommy, with the attraction being underlying, but that "so cool!" feeling still being the primary emotion we're supposed to pick up on.

I think these first real interactions between Buck and Tommy are a good indicator of where the rest of their relationship is gonna head. Buck asks a personal question about Tommy, and every bit of information he learns "I used to be a pilot in the army", Buck then relates immediately back to Eddie: "No way, Eddie used to be in the army!" Even when he's here, one-on-one with Tommy, with no Eddie present, before all of the jealousy starts, Eddie is always on Buck's mind. Tommy, at this moment, is still an afterthought. We'll see how long it takes Tommy to realize there's a reason Buck never stops yapping about Eddie (or maybe he's already picked up on it).

Buck then brings up his gender-neutral ex immediately (gender-neutral tally: 3), which leads me to believe that Tommy assumes Buck's train of thought brought him from Eddie to "an ex he rescued from a helicopter", which immediately links Eddie to potential Buck ex's, or men in general to Buck's exes. Tommy's eyes very pointedly flicker up to Buck's when he brings up an ex, which tells me that Tommy was very interested in knowing Buck's sexuality and relationship status from the very beginning.

Tommy then mimics the words from Eddie in the graveyard about not dating people they meet on calls.

(Gender-neutral tally: 5)

((Running tab on Tommy's similarities to Eddie: badass, competent, helicopters, army, and Eddie-coined phrases))

The rest of this conversation is a lot of flirting "ie. I can give you lessons" being a thinly veiled allusion to Tommy teaching Buck the ways of men loving men. And Buck is the one to offer Tommy a beer, which probably doesn't dispute the idea of Buck being queer in Tommy's head but...

Tommy's got a date with everyone's main man, Eddie.

Turns out Tommy and Eddie already made a friendly (offscreen) connection, enough for Tommy to invite Eddie out to an expensive and impressive date wrestling match.

I really want to talk about what this says about how Tommy (a queer man) views Eddie, but unfortunately, most of it would be speculation at this point.

First I want to talk about how one of the first things Tommy says in Buck's presence once Eddie shows up is calling Eddie "his man". This firmly places Eddie in Tommy's possessive. To be jealous is to desire something someone else has, or to be sensitive of someone else taking something that you view as yours. Which means two things: 1.) Buck wants what (he perceives) Tommy has: Eddie, and 2.) Buck believes on some level that Eddie is his and Tommy is trying to take away something that belongs to him. (Let's take away the fact that obviously Eddie is his own person and no one can actually possess him) in both scenarios the object of Buck's desire is Eddie. Not Tommy.

"My man" is also a vague term that can be used in both a friendly AND romantic sense. Which is the general theme we see with Tommy and Eddie's relationship, the vagueness of whether their budding new relationship is friendly or borderline romantic. Which is funny because this limbo between platonic and romantic is the same limbo Buck and Eddie have been existing in for six years. I think this is what Buck subconsciously picks up on, and it's the very fact that this COULD be romantic that triggers Buck.

As soon as Eddie shows up, Buck's entire demeanor shifts from excited, awed, and curious about Tommy, to confused, bothered, and even a bit uncomfortable. Keep in mind at this point, Buck doesn't know why Eddie is here, and yet he's upset at the prospect, even though he was just gushing about Eddie being super cool in the army.

Tommy's attention is now fully on Eddie. But Eddie is actually just as excited about Buck coming with them to the fight as he is by the idea of them going at all (his tone does not change). And yet this doesn't assuage Buck.

Second, Tommy says "I wish" almost as if he wished that he knew Buck had an interest in him before, so that either Buck could've joined them OR Buck could've taken Eddie's place. That doesn't inherently mean Tommy asked Eddie to go on a date (queer men can be platonic friends too!) but it's the fact that the line is unclear to BUCK that matters.

He also calls Buck "Evan" very casually, which is interesting to me. There are several plausible reasons why Tommy might call Buck "Evan", but I want to think of it from Eddie's perspective. "Evan" is a valued, special occasion, intimate moniker between Eddie and Buck, and Tommy's just using it willy-nilly. Eddie doesn't outwardly react to it, but he does show his own first piece of possessiveness over Buck in the next line.

God, I love Eddie's cunty lil raised eyebrows. Eddie jumps to the conclusion that Buck might be thinking of leaving the 118 and he immediately shuts that down, staking his own possessive claim on Buck in a plausibly deniable way (that Eddie is known to do, see: "do you know how much Christopher misses you?", "Christopher needs you", and "you're stuck with us (the 118)" all of which is Eddie saying he needs/wants/misses Buck without outwardly saying it, etc.) that is within their unspoken boundaries at the moment.

Buck then talks about his "options" and since we already know that Buck doesn't really want to leave the 118, the true subtext of this line is romantic options. Fluid is also not a word generally used with this phrase. It's typically "options open". The word "fluid" is more used when referring to the gender/sexuality spectrum, which is once again foreshadowing Buck's lightbulb bi moment in the end. "Options" also implies Buck has more than one romantic prospect, and since we know Buck's not really thinking about women right now, that points to men. If Tommy is a romantic prospect in this episode, that also implies that Eddie is a romantic prospect, or at least could be at some point in the future.

Buck appears to be stuck on how easily Eddie gets along with Tommy, apparently right from the beginning. Easily touching him, Eddie smiling super wide, excited as hell for something that Buck obviously doesn't know about. I can imagine that would grate on Buck's nerves because he and Eddie are supposed to be best friends who tell each other everything right? So why did Eddie hide the beginnings of this new friendship from Buck? Unfortunately, we don't know the timeline of when Tommy got these tickets to when he asked Eddie to go with him, but either way, Eddie didn't find it necessary to tell Buck. But WHY?

I would like to point out the last time Eddie seemingly "accidentally" forgot to mention something that should otherwise be easy for "just friends" to talk about: the will. Obviously, the will has larger implications than just going to a wrestling match, but it shows a pattern of "friend" things that Eddie doesn't tell Buck about. A lot of us have discussed how a large part of what puts the will scene in a romantic light instead of just something written off as purely platonic is the fact that Eddie did not tell Buck about it for a YEAR. Good friends would and SHOULD be able to talk to each other about something that life-changing, and yet Eddie can't bring himself to, risking the potential of accidentally dying at any point and leaving Buck and Chris blind-sided. Eddie must've had a reason to hide the will from Buck for so long. We know it's not because Eddie was afraid Buck would say no. He knew he wouldn't. So then, why? Most of us believe it's because Eddie's choice to put Buck in the will actually had a deeper emotional implication on Eddie's end that maybe he can't properly communicate to Buck, or even to himself. What could that implication be? In my opinion, Eddie was able to make this decision so easily because he's (unknowingly) in love with Buck, and he doesn't tell Buck because he's (subconsciously) aware that doing so reveals more about how Eddie feels for Buck than he's comfortable saying at the moment.

That long-winded tangent aside, I wanted to draw attention to it because this is another instance where Eddie seemingly has no reason not to mention to Buck that he's made a new friend in Tommy and that they've been hanging out a bunch and having fun. If anything, given how excited Eddie appears to be about Tommy and the wrestling match, you'd think Eddie would've been so excited that he would tell Buck right away. Instead, it gets to the day of and Eddie still hasn't thought to tell Buck, enough so that they're both equally shocked by their presence at Tommy's helicopter hanger. Not only that, but it implies that Eddie WOULD NOT have told Buck about it until the event passed (if he told him at all). But why? Why on earth would Eddie seemingly let this slip his mind so much as to not tell Buck at all. It can't just be oh I simply forgot or I'm having too much fun with Tommy. At this point in time, we still don't have any textual reason why, but I'm going to hypothesize that Eddie is aware (on some level but mostly subconsciously) that what he and Tommy are doing is basically going out on dates. And something in Eddie told him that he shouldn't tell Buck. Why? Perhaps because it implies something queer about Eddie that he's not ready to share with Buck yet? Time shall tell.

Additionally, it's interesting to note Eddie starts this episode hiding his friendship with Tommy from Buck, and it seems like the next episode is gonna start with Buck hiding his relationship with Tommy from Eddie. Much to think about.

Eddie also doesn't feel the need to tell Buck about the trip until after it happens and Buck has to be the one to ask. First of all, I want to say that Eddie should be given some grace here. Man doesn't have that many friends, and the last time a manfriend gave him this much attention Eddie gave him his son and built a forever home together so he just needs an adjustment period. Eddie is an intense bitch and tends to go all in with people (that he actually cares about *cough* not female romantic prospects *cough*), so I'm not surprised he's a little preoccupied with Tommy. Additionally, Eddie is a human. Sometimes humans don't pick up on the signs that others are in distress. It's not "ooc" that Eddie doesn't realize Buck is upset. It's a natural human mistake.

Now that that's out of the way this scene is hilarious because it's yet another parallel but this time, it parallels our very own Eddieana scene in 4x06 Jinx (written by the lovely Taylor Wong who also made a cameo in the bachelor scene as "tennis girl").

This is actually the second conversation walking to a scene that Buck and Eddie had about Ana, but both times Buck appears very interested in Eddie's dating life. In this same episode he also randomly asks what Ana's "love language" is despite knowing the man has had less than five whole conversations with her. What's important to note here is Buck's pattern of being overly interested in Eddie's romantic prospects. This is no different for Tommy (who Buck unconsciously realizes IS a romantic prospect for Eddie).

Okay looks like I've reached tumblr's limit on how many pics I can post so I'm going to be forced to make this into parts but I will make them all at the same time and post at the same time.

Find part 2, part 3 and part 4.

#911 abc #buddie #bucktommy #911 meta #buddie meta #evan buckley x eddie diax #buck x eddie #meta #7x03 #7x04 #speculation #911 speculation #buddie speculation

[exhuastedpigeon]

As amazing and satisfying as Eddie's season 5 arc was, him realizing he's queer during that arc would have made SO much narrative sense and in my opinion we were robbed of that storyline.

Eddie's season 5 starts with him having a panic attack over the idea of his long term girlfriend being called the mother of his child. A literal doctor tells him 'it could be repression' about his panic attacks. He dumps said long-term girlfriend in a disaster zone of a kitchen by telling her "maybe you should go home".

They could have had the latter half of season 5 for Eddie stay pretty similar, but show him being petty and bitchy to Josh not just because Josh tells him what to do sometimes, but because Eddie is resentful of Josh being a happy, out, gay man.

They could have had the therapy still be about his PTSD but dived even deeper into his childhood trauma. That line to Buck when he says he's worried he'll never feel normal again? That should very easily be about both his war and firefighter related PTSD but ALSO about his religious trauma and his fear of 'not being normal' because he's queer.

The conversation he has with his dad in El Paso, where he says he isn't just getting better for Christopher he's doing it for himself? That could have been a moment where he tells his dad that he's not straight and we could have had a beautiful and complex moment where Ramon Diaz, a man who does truly love his son, has to reckon with the fact that his kid hated this part of himself because of how he was raised.

Season 5 makes sense for Eddie to have discovered this part of himself, even if he keeps it quiet. Hell, him not telling people but knowing it about himself makes his season 6 attempts to date women and feeling like he's performing even richer.

#I'm rambling #eddie diaz #i just think queer eddie s5 makes so much sense! #and it kind of feels like it COULD have gone that way but Fox (or someone high up at the show) said no to that idea #911 #911 on abc #911 abc

[lurkingshan]

Intergenerational Trauma Challenge - 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us

It’s winter and I’m huddled up in my house hiding from the cold weather, so obviously this is the perfect time to tackle another entry on the intergenerational family trauma challenge list. This week I finally watched 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us, a Thai drama about Wang, a young man just coming of age who is desperately seeking answers about his father’s death; Sasiwimol, Wang’s very complicated mother who does not want to dig up the past; Inthawut, his father’s best friend who has been hiding from it for years; and Siam, the black hole at the center of this story.

Before I dig into the trauma themes, let me just say that this show is excellent, if not for everyone. It has a very intentional style that makes it feel like a stage play—the writer is a playwright—and it’s basically eight episodes of very intense conversations. It’s not a romance and there’s an intellectualism in the writing that I found kept me at an emotional remove from the characters even as I marveled at how well crafted the dialogue is. And the dialogue is very important, which is why the translation of this drama is much stronger than we typically get from Thai productions—the words matter. It’s also loaded with visual metaphors and is all around beautiful to look at, and the three main performers are fantastic. I highly recommend it to anyone who likes theater, stories about complicated families, or beautiful and talented actors showing their work. And more than anything else, this show does incredibly strong thematic work and its messaging is on point: this is a story about how noble idiocy ruins lives.   

So, with that said, onto the trauma! Spoilers ahead, and I am assuming anyone reading past this point has watched the show. Some themes you’ll see in this one: taboo, denial of queer identity, homophobia, filial piety, and lots of emotional manipulation. Shoutout to @bengiyo and @twig-tea for reading this to make sure I didn’t miss anything in this complex story.

There are two main sources of intergenerational trauma radiating down toward Wang: the absence of his father, Siam, and his intense relationship with his mercurial mother, Sasiwimol. The story is structured around Wang’s determination to seek answers about Siam—both who he was and how he died. He has grown up knowing a certain story: that his parents met and fell in love in college but divorced when he was young, that his father loved him very much despite not staying with his mother, and that his father was an alcoholic who died in a drunk driving accident. Shortly after his father’s death, his mom put him in boarding school so she could focus on her career and became a weekend parent to him—as she was not around to structure his day to day life, their relationship became more about her taking him on fun adventures and spoiling him when she had time off, treating each other as best friends instead of like a mother and son, and never talking about Siam. He has always suspected there was more to the story of his parents that he was not being told, and as he has grown up, come into his own queerness, and picked up on his mother’s casual homophobia and obsessive devotion to compulsory heteronormativity, his suspicions about the secret his mom was holding became sharper. 

Enter Inthawut. Inthawut was Siam’s best friend, and with nothing to go on but a set of old pictures, Wang has an instinctual certainty that he is the key to the secret he’s seeking. And thus he engineers a way for he and his mom to “coincidentally” stumble onto Inthawut’s property and get invited to stay a few days in his isolated home, at which point Wang begins his campaign to figure out what the hell happened between Siam, Sasiwimol, and Inthawut at any cost.

One of the things I find most interesting about this story is how much the plot hinges on Wang going against Asian cultural norms in his pursuit of the truth. He is not respectful to his elders. He does not maintain filial piety and deference to his mother. He refuses to restrain his emotions. Instead, he is pushy and relentless and emotionally manipulative (all tricks we can plainly see he learned from Sasiwimol) and Inthawut doesn’t stand a chance against him. And so, because Wang explicitly acts against these cultural values, the truth comes out and the trauma is no longer suppressed. 

And in the end, it’s a simple, if desperately sad story: Siam and Inthawut were in love, but Inthawut was battling internalized homophobia and deep-seeded fear and so he relentlessly pushed Siam away and toward dating and then marrying their friend Sasiwimol. And when Siam, miserable in this heterosexual relationship he never actually wanted, finally snapped and confessed his true feelings, Inthawut rejected him and ran away to study abroad. Inthawut was running due to his own fear, but he also had noble notions of somehow protecting Siam from his own queerness and told himself that if he was gone, Siam would accept his heterosexual life. Of course, that did not happen, and in the fallout of this rejection Siam sank further into alcoholism and died soon after. Inthawut’s reaction was the exact worst fear of all gay people who work up the courage to confess to a friend they have developed feelings for: outright rejection, abandonment, and destruction of the relationship. And in his mind, he did this to Siam “for his own good,” a fairly textbook execution of the noble idiocy trope. In the aftermath, we see how Inthawut has isolated himself, part in penance, part in self-protection, and intellectualized his way to a romantic construction of his own cowardice that he tries to convince Wang is righteous.

But Wang is deeply affected by how the denial of his father’s queerness ruined his life and is absolutely not having any of Inthawut’s self-denying bullshit, and this is where things get messy, as both Wang and Inthuwat seem to start seeing Wang and Siam as interchangeable and they develop an emotional entanglement that is deeply unhealthy, to say the least. Wang wants to understand Siam so badly that he starts to be him, and Inthuwat is so desperate to address his regret and shame that he starts to see Wang as Siam, as well. Wang also uses this attachment as a way to shock his mother and forcefully bring her real feelings about Siam and Inthawut to the surface. Despite Wang’s many loud protestations to the contrary, I don’t believe that he and Inthawut actually love each other. They are using each other to work out their trauma about Siam.

And they’re not the only ones! Sasiwimol seems to have her own psychological confusion about Wang as he relates to Siam, and their dynamic is very strange as a result. She refers to Wang as dua-eeng (and has taught him to do the same with her rather than calling her “mom”), a Thai endearment that literally means “self” but is often used between lovers. They have a very physically affectionate relationship that often had me grimacing in discomfort, and she clearly sees Wang as both a source of pain—because he is so like Siam—and her one source of comfort and happiness. She is a successful woman by any standard, but she’s also desperately lonely, hanging on tight to Wang as her only companion in a way that often veers into overbearing, and deeply wounded by her past with Siam and Inthawut. It was through her own friendship with Inthawut that she pursued Siam in the first place, and she clearly feels betrayed not only by Siam, but by Inthawut, both for getting in the way of her relationship with Siam and for leaving them. Her feelings about both men are complex and the story never fully spells them out, in part because Sasiwimol never does. Determinedly not thinking about what happened between them is a big part of how she copes, along with sublimating her suspicions into homophobia, which she perpetuates quite intentionally in her work via production of heterosexual romance propaganda.

Wang clearly loves his mother even as he is frustrated by her prejudices, her desire to control him, and her tendency toward emotional manipulation. He is a perceptive kid and he has studied her closely; he understands her very well and can often predict exactly how she’ll react to a situation. Which is why his decision to announce baldly to her face that he is in love with Inthawut—not only coming out as gay but declaring his intention to move out of her home and in with a man 20+ years his senior who is deeply entangled with her own trauma—felt very intentional to me. He knew what kind of reaction that would get from her, and he wanted it. And sure enough, Sasiwimol crumbles at this repetition of her trauma and the perceived disloyalty of Wang choosing Inthawut over her just as his father did. The rest of the emotion she’d been holding back comes pouring out, resulting in the three of them finally airing out everything that lies between them and everything they are feeling about the Siam-shaped hole in their lives. And once she breaks down, Wang is able to forgive her for the grievance she’s caused him and ultimately decides to remain filial and continue living with her, because he does not actually want to punish his mother for what happened to his father. 

So, in the end, where did the story leave us with all this trauma? I can’t really say that any of these characters have healed, but I do think Wang kick-started that process, at least for himself. He got what he needed most out of this little scheme: deeper understanding of who his father was and why his life took such a drastic turn. He remains caught in the dysfunctional dynamic with his mother, and I’m not sure he’ll ever fully break out of it, but at least there is more honesty between them now about what they’re dancing around. She now knows he is gay and she has to accept it to keep him with her, and given that he has backed off from asking her to accept something much scarier than that, I do think she will find a way to make her peace with it. Inthawut is the character who seems to have progressed the least, standing firmly in his stasis and remaining determinedly alone with his pain, though the show leaves us with a note of ambiguity that suggests he may someday find the courage to move on.

The messages of this work are clear. Internalized homophobia and denial of your own queerness are poison for your soul. Rejecting a loved one “for their own good” is an act of cowardice and selfishness, not an act of love. Hiding from and sublimating your trauma will never allow you to heal. Refusing to process your pain will only lead to you pushing it down on the next generation. Ultimately, this story told us that bravely looking ourselves and our trauma in the face and confronting our truths head on is the only way to begin to heal, and that running from them only leads to ruin. 

#180 degree longitude passes through us #thai drama #intergenerational trauma challenge #shan shouts into the void

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

I feel like you’re qualified to know this: Is Moomin actually queer or is it just something the fans started headcanoning

This reminds me of this instagram comment section I have saved on my phone

But answering seriously: Yes, Moomin is queer. The one doing the swedish voice for Misabel in the 2019 series brought this up

”It’s something you didn’t think of as a child, that the gender roles are very fluid in Moominvalley. There’s many queer themes. Misabel is an example of that. Also Misabel’s dog Ynk that’s a dog that only likes cats is a good example of this. It’s one of the big strenghts, which makes you as an adult have things to ponder about in the story. It’s fun that Moominvalley is a place where everyone can be just like they are. Man or woman, dog, cat, or something in between. You can like whoever you like. Moomintroll can like Snufkin more than he likes Snorkmaiden, and sometimes he likes Snorkmaiden more and that’s also wonderful.”

Tove Jansson was a queer woman. Two characters, who for some reason are named Thingummy and Bob in english, are named Tofslan and Vifslan in original text. They are nicknames of Tove and Viveca. Viveca Bandler was a woman Tove had a secret relationship with in 1946. Tofslan and Vifslan are two characters who speak in a secret language only they can understand, and they carry around a bag that they REFUSE to open, as inside is the most beautiful thing in the world (the king’s ruby) and they are terrified of anyone finding it. So, you can see the allegory of queerness, the closed bag as the ”closet” and when they eventually open it, the secret ”comes out”.

The character Too-Ticky is also based on Tuulikki Pietilä, who was Tove’s romantic partner, who were together from 1956 up until Tove’s death. In their letters to each other, Tove used to draw Too-Ticky at end of letters

The most emotional scene I think in all of the Moomin’s stories is when Moomin hides inside the magician’s hat and he gets turned into a hideous creature. No one recognizes him even when he cries that he IS Moomin. And then his mom comes, and he shouts ”Mama, it’s me! It’s me, Moomin!”

And she looked at him, and says ”Yes, you are my son.” And that’s what makes him turn back again.

This scene can be an allegory for when coming out and trying assure them that you’re STILL YOU, and everyone is starting to see you differently.

I think the anime was really good at capturing this scene (I mean the anime is superior in every way anyway)

(Flash forward to 1:55 for when the mom comes out)

#moomins #the moomins #moomintroll

[wellofdean]

So in my ongoing efforts to say nice things about Supernatural and, as @luckshiptoshore said yesterday, "reclaim this nice, gay show" together, and also probably because I listened to Bruce Springsteen earlier today while I was thinking: why is it that this particular love story has me like it does? Why can't I let this Destiel thing go? I mean... I watched all the recent queer love stories and as much as I enjoyed Good Omens and OFMD, they just don't take up real estate in my soul like Supernatural does -- and that's not a decision I made, it just is. I don't know about you guys, but my little rages choose me.

Anyway, I was thinking -- it's probably not just because of queer representation or whatever, and I don't think it's because I want to see dudes be tender -- I think I ran out of that form of interest in the life of dudes awhile ago, but yeah, Bruce Springsteen. Born to Run. He says "I want to know love is wild, I want to know love is real" and I felt like it pretty much hit the nail on the head for me, somehow.

It's been a long time since I have felt moved by a het romance story. I feel like I can no longer believe it when the roles are so pre-packaged in the tropes and trappings of what was sold to me as idealised love in my younger days. And, like, I am Gen X, so it was pretty gruesome out there when I was learning how to want love -- the power of compulsory heterosexuality was strong, and the shit that was sold to us all as ways to love and be loved were pretty gross, just watch any romantic comedy from the 80's or 90's.

I think I love Supernatural so much because of the way Dean plays the role of a standard issue dude, and postures like he is a stereotypical red-blooded American dude, but it's so transparent that it isn't him. I don't know if it's just Jensen things, or if it was consciously done, but I love how unconvincing Dean's act is, and how clear it is that he is a wounded child whose own real desires and needs have been beaten out of him somehow, and I just love the way the real Dean and what that guy wants slow rises out of him as the story goes on, until he's choking on it, and visibly swallowing it down. For me, the queerest thing about Dean is his pain, his aching loneliness, and his sense of failure at being what he thinks he is -- a violent man who only knows how to kill, and I love Dean's moments of clarity, moments when he speaks from his own soul -- when he tells Cas he's sorry, tells John he has a family, tells Chuck "that's not who I am" are just everything to me.

Both Dean and Cas are victims of conditioning and coersion -- Dean trying to be his Daddy's perfect son, and being manipulated by Chuck, and Cas horribly violated and brainwashed repeatedly for millennia in heaven -- and they love each other in defiance of conditioning, because love is wild, and it's the product of their freedom.

I feel like ALL actual love eschews force and arises out of freedom. All real love is specific and weird, and is co-created in the space between lovers from what is most real in them and in that sense, all real love is queer in some way in that it is not part of the big social project of subjugating what doesn't comply. I feel like a lot of people lead lives of mindless compliance and that a thing that's wonderful about queer people and queer community is that we work against the grain to honor what is truest in us, whatever that is.

I guess I just love that, on Supernatural, the kind of love that saves the day is the kind that grows wild, like a weed you can't kill, out of more than a decade of choosing each other, again and again, and choosing to fight coercion and conditioning. Love that just fucking refuses to comply, and in fact, cannot comply, because non-compliance is it's very nature. There's something so hopeful and beautiful about that to me. I want to believe in it, and I do.

It's also why, after ALL THIS, in the context of that narrative, Dean is incontrovertibly queered, and anything else is just straight up narrative malpractice.

#supernatural #dean winchester #love is queer yo #anti-trashnatural agenda

[redpanther23]

ESSENTIAL GAY HISTORY MOVIES (according to me, with a focus on the controversial)

The Wizard of Oz (1939) - Included because I actually met a young queer person who didn't believe me that this is a historical lgbt movie. I'm sorry but if you haven't seen this I'm revoking your gay license.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1972) - Another one I'm including just in case someone hasn't seen it and needs a reminder to do so (I know teenagers read my blog.)

Pink Flamingos (1972) - A John Waters movie. His films are bizarre, gross comedies and unlike any others.

Female Trouble (1974) - Another John Waters feature, this one has one of my favorite lines from any movie, "son, why don't you stop fooling around with these straight women and find yourself a nice queer to settle down with?" (paraphrased)

Desperate Living (1977) - My favorite John Waters picture, this one is bordering on epic fantasy. It's set in a shantytown in the woods, populated by gay criminals, ruled by an evil queen.

Dog Day Afternoon (1975) - Based on a true story about a guy who robbed a bank to pay for his girlfriend's gender reassignment surgery.

The Forbidden Zone (1980) - THE OINGO BOINGO MOVIE. Not only is the soundtrack Danny Elfman's best work (in this writer's humble opinion) but it's also a beautiful movie about love for the controversial and perverse. Obviously it was made by queers and people of color, but they were trying to be offensive, so they do shit like, have characters in blackface, but also black actors, sometimes in the same scene (an artistic choice as confusing to a modern audience as it was when they made it.)

Killer Condom (1996) - A German murder mystery/comedy about a gay cop. Very corny and lighthearted, it feels more like an 80s movie.

Velvet Goldmine (1998) - A sweet and poignant romance between two male rockstars. This one feels like it came from within my own heart.

Cruising (1980) - Another murder mystery, this time centered around a bisexual cop, only this one isn't a comedy. They shot footage in actual gay bondage bars in New York, but the hardcore stuff got cut because I guess god hates us ( lol). You can still tell in some scenes they're really fisting dudes and shit.

The Gay Deceivers (1969) - Two straight men pretend to be a gay couple to dodge the draft. They move to a gay neighborhood and have to blend in with their neighbors.

Feel free to suggest more, I'm sure there's a lot I didn't think of.

#pride #lgbt #gay movies #lgbt movies #lgbt history #movies #red panther speaks

[queer-ragnelle]

favorite queer retellings/interpretations of arthurian legend

hello anon!

this simple question has a complicated answer if only bc some authors seem to have created queer stories unintentionally! & i like them! i'll include quotes from my suggestions below a cut as there will be some mild spoilers but that may help you decide what stories suit your tastes as they vary a lot. you can also just go ahead & assume kay & agravaine are always queer (bc they are, not accepting crit) which makes narrowing down the list difficult for me.

TL;DR: Camelot 3000 Mike W. Barr & Brian Bolland, Exiled From Camelot/Trial of Sir Kay/Hunt for Hart Royal by Cherith Baldry, Spear Nicola Griffith, Guinevere/Morgan/Morgawse by Lavinia Collins, The Queen's Knight by Marvin Borowsky, Arthur Rex by Thomas Berger, The Road to Avalon by Joan Wolf.

Camelot 3000 by Mike W. Barr & Brian Bolland: reincarnation story with transman sir tristan coming to terms with his gender & sexuality so he can accept isolde's love for him & reciprocate. it's really beautifully written imo plus the art is so 80s & my exact cup of tea. it's dated in some of its handling of the subject matter but i think it was done thoughtfully for the time.

Exiled From Camelot, The Trial of Sir Kay, The Hunt for The Hart Royal by Cherith Baldry: the way baldry writes is overall my favorite ever but her kay is unparalleled he is everything to me. unequivocally disinterested in women (without misogyny, very important note). codependent on gawain if not fully in love with him the crown style. lots of hurt/comfort, kissing, holding & worrying over each other. they exchange a ring for god's sake. in exiled it says ragnelle was the only woman for gawain (based) but after she passed he's all kay's basically so this checks all my boxes. love wins.

Spear by Nicola Griffith: butch perceval pulling bitches chapter after chapter it's glorious. ends up settling down with nimue. bonus throuple arthur/guin/lance with a very sweet moment with lance talking to percy about them both. no homophobia (external nor internal) to be found its very enjoyable. beautiful prose. audiobook was wonderfully narrated by the author, which is how i read it, thus i've written out a quote here:

"Secrets may prove a burden. So...Lance, my mother is indeed Merlin's sister but I am not Merlin's sister's son." Lance frowned. "I don't understand..." "I am not his sister's son." His eyes stretched wide. He reassessed the line of her jaw, the size of her hands. She nodded. Then he reassessed how she and Nimue sat with one another. This time, Nimue nodded.

Guinevere, Morgan, & Morgawse by Lavinia Collins: these aren't my favorite (did gawain really dirty, deal breaker) but the fact is they have multiple explicitly queer characters including: kay, lancelot, morgawse, agravaine, isolde, dinadan, etc. plus there were several poly scenes including one with guin/lance/kay, another morgawse/lot/visiting king/queen swinging. wild all around everyone is sleeping with everyone no character is unaccounted for. be warned these books are extremely graphic in every conceivable way. queer solidarity in the face of homophobia is a theme throughout. kay punches phobic urien & agravaine "saw nothing." shh its fine urien sucks. this hilarious convo between agravaine & morgawse kills me.

The Queen's Knight by Marvin Borowsky: an interesting retelling in which mordred is a grown up warlord right from the outset. he also happens to be queer. mind this came out in the 50s & contains pederasty, but mordred does later have a loving tragic relationship with fellow knight calogrenant (yay crackships<3), which others were aware of & helped conceal (kay, for example). agravaine is also queer, he only joins arthur's forces bc lancelot asks him to & continues to fixate on him for the whole book. typical.

Arthur Rex by Thomas Berger: so this book is super homophobic. but it's so homophobic that it circles back around to being pretty queer bc berger saw queerness everywhere, apparently. but the green knight is purposefully queer, so the kissing game's gender-role-reversal/bisexuality....escalates. david lowery wishes. both gawain & arthur are pretty homoromantic with lancelot to the point the narrative calls attention to it & then no-homos their closeness. agravaine appears to be queer too. he's the only unmarried brother (claims to be in love with guinevere but i don't buy it), he wants lancelot so bad he gets all tongue tied & stupid around him...wrecked.

The Road to Avalon by Joan Wolf: what's this? agravaine again? so in this version, lancelot is named bedwyr (inspired by mary stewart's quadrilogy) but he's lance in all but name. anyway agravaine constantly beefs with guinevere for his attention...& loses. plus it's implied agravaine slept with lamorak before his mother which is hysterical. (my fave crackship is thriving<3) agravaine topples the empire for a much older straight man. it would be funny if it wasn't so sad. let's give it up for problematic jealous slutty queers.

these are just the retellings i have read & liked. there are more on my retellings list but those were suggestions from others i haven't gotten to yet with the exception of dishonorable mention to the winter knight by jes battis. it has gay gawain & his bestie transgirl bi kay in that but the writing style was unbearable to me unfortunately i'm so sorry i just didn't like it. anyway thanks for the ask!

#arthurian legend #arthuriana #arthurian legends #queer #lgbtq #book recommendations #book reccs #sir tristan #queen isolde #sir lancelot #sir kay #sir gawain #sir bertilak #the green knight #sir agravaine #sir mordred #sir bedwyr #sir calogrenant #sir dinadan #queen guinevere #sir perceval #sir percival #nimue #lady of the lake #king arthur #queen morgause #ask #anonymous

[whorefordaemon]

Requests open?!! 😃

How about Daemon reacting to reader lover/wife/etc flirting with guys and girls in front of him on purpose 😈

Hey anon! My first ever request! Hope you like it! I added a few extra details to make it more smutty and well, more Targaryen lol

"Give me your babe."

Daemon watched, eyes glaring as he stared at his sister wife who was dancing with some Lord from some where.

Daemon and her had had a fight last night, about the one thing they always fought on. She wanted a babe. And Daemon didn't want to risk losing her.

He had been there. Watched as life slowly left his bold and fierce mother, the Princess Alyssa, day by day after the birth of his sister. He had watched his grandmother howl and scream in the night, mourning her dead babes. He watches every year or so, as his cousin Aemma is killed little by little with every dead babe she brings forth and no son.

Can't she see? How desperately he wishes to spare her of such a fate?

What would he do if she was gone?

But his wife, stubborn as she was, refused to listen.

He had been on top of her, inside her when she locked her legs around him and refused to let him pull out early. The hot and tightness of her cunt was too alluring and Daemon hadn't been able to successfully separate himself from her before he was shooting all of his seed deep into her.

He had stared at her, eyes wide and breathless as she giggled. "How long do you think you can stay away from me, brother? How long before you're back here, inside me, railing me to our bed? I promise, I will have your seed in me soon enough."

He had raged at her, tried to shake some sense into her but she had refused to listen. 

She had wanted a babe. And there was no stopping her. He had always given in to her demands before. He had spoiled her, he knew.

So he had taken to ignoring her. Refusing to fuck his beautiful little sister wife unless she promised to behave. It had only been a day and he was already going crazy.

She had only shown him her tongue before walking away, promising she'd have his cock back in her cunt by that very night.

And so far, she was doing a fantastic job riling him up. She had dressed all pretty, in a long black dress with sleeves designed to look like dragon scales and a back that was open for all to see. He imagined tearing down her dress and fucking her from behind, seeing way more than just her back.

Her hair was left open and he imagined pulling her by her hair whilst fucking and holding her in place as she ran her tongue down his cock.

He imagined giving a few smacks on her arse as she rightfully deserved for forcing his hand like this.

He was distracted the whole feast, unable to forget his raging hard on as he drank in the sight of her.

She turned to look at him once the dance was over, a smirk identical to his, as she laughed at whatever it was that the Lord had spoken.

It was a fake laugh and Daemon smirked, there was nobody who could've hoped to have had his wife's interest the way he had. But they could try, he mused.

He hoped for her sake she would put a stop to this charade though. Before he lost his cool. But alas, his sister was proving herself to be very foolish.

He watched, hands clenched into a fist as the Lord placed a kiss on her hand and she smiled. Did this sod have a death wish?!

He got up abruptly, the eyes of everyone as always on him, and made his way over to his wife.

He put his hand on the Lord's shoulder, a huge smile on his face as he greeted him. His grip tightened and his smile widened as he noticed how nervous the Lord became, moving away from his wife.

His. His. His.

"Lord, may I have my sister back? I haven't had the pleasure of her company all evening." He reminded the man and watched as he squirmed at the remainder that his wife was also his sister. Their queer customs never failed to make these Andal Lords uncomfortable. And he loved making them feel uncomfortable.

"Sure my prince." He stuttered before moving away.

Daemon watched him run, his tail tucked between his legs. He stared at everyone in the room, daring them to come between his wife and himself.

He turned to finally face her. His beautiful sister. A sinister smirk on his face which she replied with a soft, sweet smile on her face. "Brother." She whispered.

He pulled her into a dance, running his hands down her body. She stared up at him. For them, no one else existed in the great hall.

""I've missed you, brother." She confessed, looking him in the eye.

"It's barely been one whole day." He told her.

"So? Usually you would have filled me with your cock atleast twice by now, before the day was out." She told him in Valyrian, shameless with her words. Her eyes showed her desire for him. He knew his eyes held the same look.

"Usually, you'd be much more well behaved."

"I want your babe brother. A beautiful, pure Valyrian babe who may one day rule all of the seven kingdoms." She told him.

"Birthing is no easy task." He warned her, a pleading look came over him.

"I'm a dragon and a woman brother. I was born with the strength of a dragon and my body was made to bear children. Your children. I won't let you deprive me of my destiny." She told him, sounding more like him than ever before. So sure and so full of life.

Daemon smiled. "Children? How many do you plan to give me?"

She smiled, a soft laugh breaking their tension. Yes, their fight was over. He had lost before he could even begin to fight.

"A dozen. At the very least."

She grabbed his hands and began to pull him out of the hall and towards their chambers. "And me thinks the earlier we start, the better."

He laughed before pushing her against a wall in a dark corridor. He caged her inbetween his arms, their noses touching as her breathing got heavier. "The chambers are too far away. I say, let's make a babe right here." He whispered in her ears.

She stared up at him, eyes so full of lust and hope, Daemon felt his breeches tighten further. He turned her around, pushing her against the wall before his hands went under her dress. He let his fingers travel under her gown, tracing her legs up until he reached her cunt, which was wet and throbbing. "Hmm, no undergarments, my filthy whore!" He accused her. The vile words only making her more aroused.

"All yours brother." Her breathing hitched, a loud moan escaping her throat.

He rubbed at her wetness, brushing his fingers against her pearl and laughing as she squirmed and shook in his arms. Her head thrown back into his shoulders as she moaned.

He gathered her wetness before poking at her entrance. Sliding one finger in and pulling out slowly. Repeating this gesture a few more times and slowly adding more fingers until he had three stuffed inside of her.

He pulled them in and out of her furiously and the wet noises reverberated in the empty corridors. Daemon was sure anyone walking by would be able to guess what they were doing. He couldn't wait to hear the noises they made when it was his cock inside of her.

It wasn't long before she was tensing up, her cunt tightening around his fingers as she came.

"Fucccckkkk" she whined.

He pulled his hand out of her cunt, pulling at his breeches and freed his cock. It was aching painfully. He used her wetness to stroke his cock slowly before once again grabbing her dress, pulling it up so he had free access to her cunt.

He lined up, rubbing his cock at her little pearl and watched as she shook lightly.

He chuckled. "So eager, dear sister."

"I am! I want your seed. I want your babe! I want your cock! Please brother, give it to me please." She whined, moving her ass backward, trying to push his cock into her cunt.

He laughed harder, "patience.." he whispered before suddenly, without warning, he rammed his entire length inside her.

She screamed, Daemon bringing his hand to her mouth to prevent her from screaming too loud as she came all over his cock, her cunt tightening so much Daemon hissed, unable to pull his cock back out.

"Shhh...sister. Do you wish to alert everyone else to our sinful behaviour?"

She didn't reply, too lost in her pleasure. Her whole body shook as wave after wave of pleasure passed over her.

Daemon stayed inside her as she calmed down before slowly pulling out. Then back in. And out. And in again. And out. In. Out. In. Out. Until he was thrusting balls deep inside her in quick, rough thrusts that made her breasts shake, even within the tight confines of her dress.

"Ah! Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me! Give it to me love. Harder, harder please harder." She whimpered, pulling him closer by turning her face and kissing him full on the mouth.

Daemon had to hold her tightly to the wall so as to maintain his jackhammer pace.

The two kissed, biting at each other's lips and promising to love each other always.

Daemon held onto her hips, eyes on her arse as it slapped against his thighs, making all the more obscene and wet noises. He loved it.

"AH!" She screamed as she came a third time within the span of an hour. Her legs felt dead and she was sure she'd have fallen if Daemon hadn't been holding her up, still chasing his pleasure from her body.

She tensed, anticipation building as she dreamt of a silver haired, purple eyed babe.

She wanted his seed so bad. So, so bad!

Daemon grunted and growled and his hands moved from her hips to her waist. He pulled her off the wall and flush against himself as he thrust in one last time.

Hot cream filled her up as he came inside her. It hit her inner walls and she felt it as it shot all the way up into her womb.

Both husband and wife. Brother and sister moaned as they together came down from their high. They held onto each other, refusing to be parted after having such a intimate coupling together.

She sighed happily, laying her head against his broad shoulder and he hid his face in her neck. She knew. Just knew that they had made a babe tonight. She had, as always, gotten what she wanted. She really was spoiled!

#Daemon Targaryen #daemon targaryen smut #daemon x reader #Daemon Targaryen x reader #Smut writing #Filth #Smut #Asoiaf #Brother x sister #Pregnancy #creative writing #requests open