#there's nothing wrong with people who enjoy romance or sex by the way

[fun-k-boards]

I've never understood the excitement around marriage. I've never understood the 'rush' around the idea of a relationship. I've never understood the heartbreak or annoyance people feel when they're alone for valentine's day, or when their partner doesn't give them a gift for it. I've never understood why someone would like kissing with their tongues or on the lips. I've never understood why naked bodies are sexual. I've never understood why I should feel my world shatter when someone rejects me. I've never understood why I should be expected to 'just give the relationship a try' when someone confesses to me. I've never understood why friends will demean someone by implying they just 'aren't good enough' because their friend got rejected by that person, no matter how gentle or respectful the rejection was.

I've never understood why sex and romance need to be brought up and hyper focused on in every conversation imaginable.

I'll probably never understand.

[thetisming]

amatonormativity: a romantic partner should be the most important person in EVERYONE'S life

NOT amatonormativity: MY romantic partner is the most important person in MY life, but i understand this is not the same for other people

allosexnormativity: EVERYONE should have sex and sex is something EVERYONE needs/wants/should want

NOT allosexnormativity: I PERSONALLY enjoy sex and love having sex because it makes ME feel good, but other people dont feel the same and that's okay

platonormativity: having friends is important for EVERYONE and EVERYONE needs/has/should have friends

NOT platonormativity: having friends is important to ME and I PERSONALLY love having friends, but there are people who dont and theres nothing wrong with that

faminormativity (is that the word?): family is important for EVERYONE and EVERYONE needs to have their family

NOT faminormativity: family is important to ME and I PERSONALLY need my family with me, but other people dont feel the same and i understand that

lovenormativity (again, not sure if this is a word): EVERYBODY feels love and there's something wrong wiith you if you dont

NOT lovenormativity: I PERSONALLY feel love and love people, but not everyone does and that's completely okay!

NOT amatonormativity: i dont have friends/have any desire to have friends, i am happy with other relationships/no relationships at all

NOT platonormativity: i dont have any desire to be in a romantic relationships, and i am happy with my platonic relationships

NOT allosexnormativity: i like hooking up with people and having one night stands or friends with benefits

NOT faminormativity: i care about my family deeply and am close with family members

NOT lovenormativity: i feel love for people i care about

it's not normative to personally enjoy something, so long as you respect that other people simply arent like you and aren't going to like the same things as you. taking down normativity is a two way street, allos and aspecs need to do it. support your local aros, aces, apls, afams and other aspecs today! remember to challange all normativities, and to not enforce other normativity by saying how bullshit other normativities are!

nothing is universal. romance is not universal. sex is not universal. friendship is not universal. family is not universal. love is not universal. nothing is universal.

[cowboy-heart]

'interview with a butch' - a fake interview reflecting on butch-femme dynamics! inspired by the amazing piece by @llovely, which you can read here :)

(ID below read more)

[an original, interview-style poem called 'interview with a butch':

when did you know you were butch? I knew by the time I was sixteen, but that’s only when I found the word. I’ve been butch since the day I was born, at least since I was just a few months old and threw an earth-shattering tantrum whenever my mum tried to put me in a dress. (both laugh) your poor mum!

I remember being a little butch knight, chivalrous even before I was double digits. my best friend only lived up the road from school, but her parents were running late and she was scared to do it herself. so I walked her up the hill, her arm linked in mine, pride balancing on my chest. and when I got her to her door, I said that we should kiss like adults do when they say goodbye, and we took it in turns to kiss each other on each cheek. when I walked home I felt something the size of a boulder in my stomach, but I didn’t know what it meant yet, just that there was something about myself that set me apart.

how did you feel with your first femme? oh, man, even for a writer that’s hard to find the words for. (laugh) let’s put it this way: before I had my first femme, I always felt like something was missing in my relationships – not just in the relationship itself, but in me. I felt broken and wrong, unsatisfied and selfish. I thought that maybe I just had too high expectations or something. hell, even with sex I felt like something was missing, like I couldn’t find my own desire.

But then, then I had my first femme. How graphic can I be here? (laugh) as graphic as you want! okay, good!

watching my stomach hang over my harness, long nails in my hips, I felt like I had a second sexual awakening. I felt the most present in my body I’d ever been, and like I could be in them forever. I didn’t feel dissatisfied, or wrong. when their hand held mine and played with my fingers I felt lightning shoot through me. it was like realising I was a lesbian all over again. but even outside of romance, femmes are my friends, my family, my community. talking to femmes, being around femmes, I’ve never felt so seen and loved. I can handle every sharp look, every slur thrown my way, just because my armour was polished by femmes.

do you find your roles restrictive? they’re liberating. I think sometimes people see me and think that I had to fit into this constrictive box, that I disallowed myself to enjoy anything feminine. the reality is that for butches, we find the word we’ve been searching for our whole lives. I can’t even remember finding the word, isn’t that crazy? it felt second nature. it somehow perfectly described everything I’d ever felt, exposed me to a community of people who were just like me outside of my Tory town! (pause)

I think there’s a tendency even in leftist, LGBT spaces to think that masculinity is oppressive, and femininity is liberating and oppressed. but it’s really not like that. we’re punished for deviating from our assigned gender, whether you’re a masculine woman, or a feminine man, or something in between the two. I’ve had gay men try to convince me to let them do my makeup, I’ve had gay women tell me that they’re “so glad” I don’t have ‘toxic masculinity’ like “other butches”. femininity was a cage for me, something I had to imitate to survive the perils of high school, but it was never me. masculinity liberated me, and it’s not inherently toxic. I love to carry the bags, hold open the doors, cry in pride, protect those I love. and there’s nothing like coming home at the end of the day to a sweet femme, ready to rub my tired muscles. man, I’m not good at concise answers, am I? (both laugh) no, but I love it!

what do you think of people who see your relationship as heteronormative? they’re twats! (both laugh) now, that’s a concise answer! no, no that’s not fair. here’s what I’d say to them:

I see it as…a complex gender performance. no, that makes it sound like it’s play pretend. they’re complex gender…expressions, dynamics, play, desire, euphoria. a butch and a femme together is no more heterosexual than a bear and a twink, a top and a bottom. it’s a dance that we know in our bones, like we knew each other in a previous lifetime and we’re just falling back into our favoured rhythm. even every fumble and awkward gesture is a part of it. we fall into sync and into each other, we tenderise each other’s gender, affirm it, and love every minute of it. we’re not two sides of the same coin, you talk to any butch-femme couple and chances are our priori (edit: interviewee meant propositions) are the same but our conclusions are not; we’re the same side of the same coin, just one is the top of the tail and the other is the bottom of it. is that a euphemism? (laugh) take it as you will!

I’m no man, my femme is no woman, and I’m no less butch when I’m wearing a kiss-the-cook apron and cleaning their kitchen, and they’re no less femme when they’re putting together a shelf or driving me to work. To look at us and see a heteronormative imitation of cisgender predetermination is proof of their own lack of nuance – do you think all dogs are boys and all cats are girls, too? (both laugh)

I think in a lot of ways, butch-femme dynamics are inherently transsexual. or, in the very least, good friends of transgenderism. If you can’t see us for what we are then chances are you’ve got your own internalised gender biases to unlearn.

I’ve always been butch to my bones, but when I’m with my baby I’m on cloud nine. I feel desired, my gender revered and loved.

so, what you’re saying is, you feel seen? I do. we see each other and nurture each other. I’ve never really liked being called ‘beautiful’, but when it falls from the lips of a femme, I know that they’re not seeing me as feminine. I feel most comfortable to explore the depths of both my femininity and masculinity with them; I don’t feel restricted to a role.

maybe that’s what people are missing about it: our homes are temples of gender exploration and devotion.

end ID].

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

im really sorry if this is a stupid thing to ask but im 16 and ive been trying to figure out what kinds of things i like, yknow for reference, and uh ik that people say that all kinks are ok but then they also turn around and say that some arent. and i keep getting turned on by rape scenes in shows and things and then i feel really fucking shitty about it and im not sure how i should. idk deal with that, if theres anything to deal with. basically the whole things confusing as fuck and i dont know what to do and you usually have answers

hi anon,

okay, here's the thing: what you're getting turned on by is people playing pretend. no one is in any danger, no one is actually being raped, depending on when the tv show or movie in question was made there's a very good chance there was an intimacy coordinator on standby to make sure everything was done respectfully and all of the actors felt safe and comfortable.

being turned on by a depiction of something bad happening carries no ethical weight, because being horny and enjoying fiction are morally neutral things. people who like Godzilla probably aren't into it because they actually want to see real people and cities be destroyed by a big lizard, you know? it's fun because it's pretend. it's made up.

would personal examples help? I love reading romance novels. I don't want romance to happen to me, that shit gives me hives. but I love to read about people catching feelings and figuring it out. and, hey, you've seen my URL. I love Batman. that doesn't mean I think actual billionaires should zoom around in tanks doing vigilante justice with children, that's fucking crazy. and you want a sex example? I think it's great when men are beaten, bruised, bloodied, and quivering miserably on the edge of death's door. that's so hot to me, I eat that shit up. does that mean I would want to see that happen in real life? jesus christ, no. if I find an actual man in extreme physical distress on the ground I'm not going to start bating my meat, I'm going to call a fucking ambulance and try to help him as best I can. because the way my brain responds to real people is completely different than the way my brain responds to made up people who aren't actually in any pain or danger.

there's nothing to deal with here, because you haven't done anything wrong.

[janicekao]

Kookville

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x stepsis reader(dark smut) Summary: Rafe Cameron and his step sister secretly have been hooking up and he is extremely possessive over her. She's a plus size black goddess and he wants her all to himself, although they often quarrel and bicker, she is his and only his. (reader may use Y/N or choose any name of your liking for the fem character)

Warnings: stepcest, dark romance, smut, hate s3x, rough s3x, cr3ampie, violence, br33ding kink, possessive, d0m&femsub, dub!con, etc.

3890 words

Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 -------------------------------------

The house quiets down just the way that you like it. Each of your family members have their own plans as they do everyday in the beautiful OBX.

You enjoy the beach, but what you enjoy the most is the new mansion you and your mom just moved into when it's nice and empty.

It's only been you and your mother for as long as you have known it, but just last year, she married the millionaire real estate developer, Ward Cameron.

Not only did you have to get used to having a stepfather, but now you have three step-siblings. Two sisters, Sarah and Wheezie Cameron, and a brother, Rafe Cameron.

You enjoy Sarah and Wheezie's company. Sarah is a year or two younger than you, but she's really down to Earth. Wheezie is the baby, she's much younger than the entire house and seriously looks up to her big sister Sarah.

The girls are nothing like Rafe and Ward...

Rafe and Ward are two of the same kind. Arrogant, selfish, spoiled, and most of all pure evil. Labeling themselves as "Kooks" they believe that they are better than the lower class people on this island who are known as the "Pogues."

You're not sure what your mother saw in Ward Cameron, but you have no right to say anything being that for the last few months, you've been fucking Rafe behind everyone's back.

Started as a drunken mistake, now it has become a necessity to you both.

He needs you so badly, that if he weren't as stuck up as he is, he'd worship the ground you walk on... But then again, maybe he wouldn't with the amount of hate you both have for each other.

You see him as a cruel, rich, arrogant, asshole... And he sees you as a boring, loser, with a bad attitude. So why put up with each other?

Because the sex is fucking incredible.

Incredible to the point that he spoils you with skimpy lingerie and has put you on a birth control regiment.

Each time you do it, you promise yourself it's the last... Hating the fact that you and Rafe were supposed to become family, and now embarrassing enough, you two can't stop boning.

Maybe it is a kink that you both share together... An exhilarating fear of getting caught and the excitement of doing something so extremely wrong...

Whatever it is, you just can't stop.

—————

Lounging in a pair of black shorts, you enjoy the quaintness of your room as you flip through a magazine on the bed.

Sarah and Wheezie are out for ice cream, Mom and Ward are out shopping and spending alone time together, and Rafe is out on the town being devious as always... so you thought.

Bursting through your bedroom door, Rafe comes inside as he searches your purse for money...

You sigh, here we go again.

"What is it this time?" You continue to read as you ask in sarcasm. "For coke, or molly?"

"Shut up, y/n." He takes the only money you have, quickly storing it in the pockets of his pants. "It's my Dad's money anyways. If you need more, just go ask your slutty mother."

"What did you just say?" Hearing the insult about your mother makes your blood boil.

You leave your bed to quickly check him, however he only finds your short and innocently chubby stature amusing. You're far from threatening, voice too sweet to strike fear into anybody.

Staring down at you he chuckles deviously. "You heard me right. Every single night, they keep me up as she loudly fucks my dad out of all of his money."

Rafe caresses your full bottom lip as he gently pulls it down. "Like mother, like daughter, huh?"

You slap Rafe clean across his face.

He takes it like it's nothing.

A low toned growl heats his throat. "Do it again."

You do.

Face hot and red from the second slap, he absolutely loves it.

Rafe tightens his grip around your wrists pulling you up against him. His face should be stinging with pain but instead you feel his hardened cock poke against your bellybutton.

"When was the last time we—"

"Fuck off." You immediately interrupt his lewd intentions as you find yourself back onto your bed and reading your magazine.

Rafe gently lays next to you. He's quiet, too quiet as his intense blue eyes watch you.

Rolling your eyes you immediately turn your back on him. You try and hide the fact that his cologne from after his fresh shower has you almost dizzy with arousal, but he knows.

He watches the goosebumps fill the skin of your arms and begins to smirk.

"What is it this time?" He gently taunts. "Was it my presence? Maybe lying beside you? Or was it the cologne?"

Rafe chuckles as he watches your body tense up. "My cologne. It's always my smell isn't it, y/n?"

"I'm in a rush." He snaps.

Rafe pulls the tiny shorts off of your hips and down your legs before he tosses them to the floor. "I have places to be, not time to waste here with you. Lay on your back."

"You came in here to bother me, remember?" You play hard to get as you bark, knowing that your panties are soaked for him. "Go fuck yourself Rafe."

"Yeah?" He questions. "Well I can do that too."

As you ignore him, you hear his khakis suddenly unzip and the sounds of lewd fapping.

You peel your eyes from the magazine and notice Rafe stroking himself at the sight of you in your underwear and T-shirt.

His mouth hangs agape as he whispers your name. You continue to peek and your mouth begins to water for his handsomely long cock.

His large hand seems to swallow yours up as he takes your attention from your magazine and places your digits over his shaft for you to continue the hand job.

You sigh. "Rafe, what do you want from me?"

"You know what I want." He groans lightly. "I'm going to give you this cock and then I have to go and meet up with Barry."

Rolling your eyes at the thought of Rafe's friend Barry, you know for sure that the money he stole from you is to party. Barry is the worst company to keep... OBX's drug dealer.

Taking your hand away from him as he nears his cum immediately aggravates him.

Rafe takes your magazine and throws it out of your bedroom's opened window, vexed from the aching blue balls you've now given him.

"I was reading that!?" You whine as you watch the pages of your favorite magazine soar through the wind and out of your window.

Rafe puts himself away as he scoffs and begins to leave your room. "You're just a fucking tease."

You hate being called a tease.

You aren't a tease, you two just... hate each other.

Sitting up from your comfortable position, you begin to demand an exchange. "What's in it for me?"

Rafe hardly hears you as he becomes nearly hypnotized by the way your thighs expand as you sit on the edge of the bed.

"Rafe!?" You complain.

"Whatever you want." He can't pull his eyes from you as he licks the drool from his lips in temptation.

You begin to ponder over what it could be that you want in return... You are having a bit of trouble making friends in this new state, maybe getting out more could help. As much as Rafe parties, you are sure that tagging along will help you meet new people.

"Let me come with you to the beach party this Friday!" You finally decide.

"The beach party?" He frowns. "No fucking way. I know you too well, y/n. You'll do something stupid like wear that black string bikini I bought you... That's only for me to see."

You laugh. "Rafe, I'm fully grown, you forget that you're my stepbrother... not my dad."

He gags. "Trust me, I remember quite well."

You reach to aggravate him further. "You're just afraid you'll see me flirting, having fun, and ready to fuck someone else, huh?"

His sarcastic grin fades until his eyes darken. He hates when you push him there, and somehow you're the only one who knows how to do it.

"Do you remember the last time you tried to make me jealous?" Rafe begins to threat.

You reminisce on the red and blue lights that approached the fist fight that nearly knocked you to the ground as you tried to step in between Rafe and your potential one night stand. The evening at a local bar that you wished you never had visited... The evening when you realized how possessive Rafe was truly over you.

You gulp, "I try not to actually."

"Good." He fumes. "Now take off your panties, you're wasting my time."

Tempted to watch the spoiled rich boy plead for something that only you have control over, you begin to toy with his patience.

"Hmm?" You taunt. "Beg for it."

"What? Beg? You?" He laughs in a way that most would see as him bullying you.. Laughter that seems like you're not shit to him, but you know that you are. Your confidence has always been your most powerful trait, also what drives Rafe mad the most. "I can get pussy somewhere else."

He gulps as your cold siren eyes wait for his childish laughter to end. "So do it."

Rafe's jaw clinches. He's terribly angry that the only sex that he actually wants, is yours.

His skin begins to redden as you break the arrogant spirit of the powerful six-foot-two-inch man of pure muscle. "Please, y/n?"

You ignore him... it inflames him.

"You fucking want it too!" He scoffs. "Stop playing so hard to get!"

"So what? I also want a million dollars Rafe." You argue. "I want to hear you beg or you're not getting a fucking thing."

You gently part your plush thighs apart to drive him a bit more crazy... It's nearly comical the way you can melt him. Far from his usual type, however you have just what he needs.

"Yeah, fine. Whatever, fuck you— fine." He struggles with his thoughts and words, wanting you so bad that he nearly stutters words of hatred. It's hilarious.

Eyes of hunger, he finally submits to you. Rafe sits at the edge of your bed, tossing you into his lap as if you were weightless.

He wants you to feel his heated gaze as he does what you ask him to do. He begins to beg for you.

"Y/n, please let me eat your pussy and fuck you until your flesh is raw and you finally shut the fuck up." His erection prodding against you out of his tight khakis nearly takes your breath away.

"Nicer." You whisper quietly.

....

His voice shudders. "Please baby.." Rafe is finally the begging puppy that he deserves to be brought down to. "Let me fuck you so good."

A smirk creeps across your face. "Baby?" You coo. "You must really want it, seeing that you've already gone to pet names."

"Shut up."His kiss takes your breath away, thirsty for your essence, Rafe chokes you with his tongue.

He strips you out of your clothes, letting your T-shirt and panties hit the floor as he stands over your completely bare body.

The way he watches makes you redden with shame. You're nude and he's fully dressed as you become more vulnerable by the second.

"At least undress Rafe!" You frown as you go to stand.

Your breath is sharply taken from you as he pushes you roughly back onto the bed. "Shut up, let me look at you." He demands.

Your goosebumps are back and at full force.

"Oh god.." You become embarrassed as the glistening waterfall between your legs begins to reveal your arousal. Tightening your knees together was a bad move... All Rafe does is pry them apart to watch the slickness even closer.

Enticed and licking his lips, his shirt finally comes off. He enjoys watching the gripped indents around your thighs, so soft and malleable like two pillows as he pulls you further down to the edge of the bed.

Rafe doesn't hesitate any longer. His mouth begins to swallow you up causing you to gasp from how sensitive you are down there.

Your back begins to arch as he devours your pussy and the flicking of his tongue on your clit makes you squeal uncomfortably.

You can't take it.

Your hand presses against his head, fingers through his buzzcut as you shove him away.

Rafe growls. Eyes of pure evil watch up at you as he pins your wrists to the bed. He doesn't stop.Slurping, nibbling, and tongue fucking you as he wants badly to see you cry from his pleasurable torture.

Adding his long digits into your tight cunt, Rafe curls a singular finger at your g-spot.

"Fuck! Rafe please—" Your begging is pathetic.

"Shhh." He coos gently. "You can take it, I need to work you open for me a bit."

You hate how at times he can be almost gentle and romantic... It gets to be so confusing, and in this case, it doesn't help the orgasm tightening in the midst of your stomach.

His indecent finger-fucking has your brain a puddle of dumb mush, not being able to take the precious tongue flicks and kisses on your clit along with the rough thrusts inside of you A second long and strong finger takes you to the moon. Pussy too full of his tanned digits and melting down his wrists, you sinfully cum and lay tiredly into the mattress.

He comes up for air, panting lightly as the alluring muscles in his chest writhes with each breath.

His smile melts you, wet and devious as he presses his lips to yours. "Taste that?" He taunts breathlessly, "Pussy too good for someone so fucking annoying."

Stripping out of his pants, you watch Rafe's weighty erection near his bellybutton as it stands at attention.

He strokes himself softly, making his skin slick with the drop of wet precum that's already beaded out of his needy tip. "Turn around."

He tosses you onto your stomach without much of a warning. You still can hardly think for yourself since your last cum, so Rafe does the thinking for you.

Putting you onto your knees, he arches your back and smooths his fingers through your curls as he presses your face into the mattress for the coming back-shots.

Sliding through your slickness a few times, he lubes himself enough to fuck into you. The tip of his cock plunges through your already sensitive cunt, forcing you to take a gasp of air as you fist the sheets under you.

You hear a gulp that chokes his throat as Rafe continues to push his cock forward. "Fuck, you feel so good baby."

Clinching your eyes shut, you feel his swollen bulbous tip kiss at your cervix. It makes your body shudder. He's so far deep in you, you almost feel sick.

His balls slap against your cunt as he bottoms out into you. Your pussy feels so tight around him that you're sure you can feel his every vein probing out of his hardened flesh.

Rafe follows his own speed, paying most of his attention towards his needy want to reach his own finish. Fucking power drives into you because he knows that you can take it.

His groans are music to your ears, but you can hardly hear them over your own weeping and curses.

"Stay just like that, y/n." He nearly pleads. "You're so tight for me baby, whose pussy is this?"

Although clearly fucked to a pulp and pussy clearly belonging to him, you'd rather die than to let him know it. Eyes half-lidded and drooling onto your sheets, you refuse to let him have it.

"Mine." You pant.

Rafe laughs, plummeting his broad thumb into your tight asshole. "You're so fucking hardheaded, that's okay, you'll learn."

"Rafe! St-Stop!" Your fist tighten the sheets further until your knuckles turn white.

"Next time it'll be my cock.." He threatens you to behave as he forces his thumb in deeper and suddenly snatches it out. "Keep playing with me."

Your body lewdy continues to slap against his. Rafe is so obsessed with it, loving your extremely thick figure and knowing just how to handle it.

He slaps your ass. "Fuck me back."

You do. You throw your ass back in away that has Rafe biting at his lip, trying to hold back from cumming his load too soon.

His strong fingertips seep into the plushed flesh of your waist as he hammers his last strokes into you. Chain dangling against your skin with each thrust.

He groans, deeply growling out his words as he tries to help his own anticipation. "The other day when you babysat for our neighbors, I watched you bounce that baby on your hip and all I could think of was breeding you. Wanting so badly to take the pills from you and pump you with my seed."

"M-fuckkk." You mewl, pussy numb, obliterated, and needing a break.

Rafe chuckles. "The family knows how reckless I am, but what will Mommy and Daddy think of their precious-America's Sweetheart daughter when they find out she's a slut who fucks her stepbrother? A dumb slut who loves her stepbrother's cum so much that she let him fill her until she grew his baby?"

He snatches a handful of your hair, making you yelp and drop tears as he continues to tear you apart. "You deserve the hate that I get it..." His jealousy has his jaws tightened, and gritting his words. "They should know you aren't as innocent as you act."

Rafe harshly slaps your ass, you can feel the handprint swelling into a stinging welt on your flesh.

You can't help but to moan. The sex is so good but the embarrassment of loving it causes you to cry.

"Fuck you." You manage to speak through your wet lips and trembling breaths..

"Anytime you want, sis." His laugh is pure mockery.

"Fuck."Rafe fawns over your body, his hand reaches beneath you, cupping your large breasts and slowly choking your air away.

With a grip on your chin he forces your head around to watch his final act.

Deviously impaling your insides as he sputters his hot cum inside of you. "You're so pretty with a cock in you.Stop acting like we're going to stop, you know that we never will."

"Mmm."His muscles tighten as his many inches still inside of you, jolting as he spills his milky seed. "Tell me how much you love to be fucked by me..."

You feel shame as the hot nut causes you a second climax. Biting the sheets, you can't answer anything as your eyes cross and roll to the back of your skull.

"I swear to god, y/n, answer me." Rafe impales you further making your tummy ache and your cunt nearly tear against him.

"I love it." You weep a final act of submission. "I love to be fucked by you Rafe, my god, just don't go any harder."

Spreading your cheeks apart, he grins at the masterpiece of mess he's made on your swollen flesh. "I won't baby, you did good."

Melting into the mattress, you flatten out of your arched back.

Rafe checks his watch... he's extremely late to meeting up with his drug dealer.

He redresses, grinning as he watches you ache from his ruthless fucking.

"Ice it." He cruelly demands. "I'll be back again when the house falls asleep."

You roll your eyes, reaching for your clean beach towel to wipe his cum from dripping down your thighs.

A phone begins to ring as you redress. You think that it's probably Barry calling Rafe's phone to see where he's been so held up at...

But it's not Rafe's phone, it's yours.

Rafe immediately beats you to the ringing iPhone. "Ohhhh?" He taunts. "An unsaved number? What are you being sneaky about?"

You snatch for your phone, angry that he keeps it high out of your reach. As he answers he tightly wraps his arm around your waist to keep you from fighting it.

Rafe answers your phone quietly, waiting for the caller to speak first.

"Hello?" The voice asks. "Y/n? Where are you? I thought you wanted me to come meet you halfway? Anyways, you know where we are! Bonfire at John B's baby! I already got the beer."

...

Rafe's blood boils.

Hearing a Pogue's voice has him heated. But hearing that out of all people, the voice belongs to JJ Maybank? It makes him furious.

He hangs up. "Getting drunk at John B's house, huh? My sister Sarah has you hanging with those fucking Pogues?"

"Give me my phone back!" You argue. "It isn't like that.."

"So then what is it like?" Rafe frowns. "You're fucking JJ Maybank?"

You scoff. "What is wrong with you? He's the only friend I've made here in Outerbanks. He waits tables with me at the Waterside restaurant."

"Oh does he now?" He taunts.

Rafe begins to laugh sarcastically. He suddenly snatches your arm into both of your views, forcing you to see how your skin is again riddled with goosebumps.

The same goosebumps that you get when indecent thoughts make you horny.

Fuck... He knows you better than you thought.

"Look at you." His jaw tightens. "You might not be fucking him, but you want too."

Your eyes widen and your large guilty irises give you away.

You are smitten with JJ, and you can't help it. He's the opposite of Rafe... He's kind, gentle, and extremely sweet to you.

You love his innocently dimpled smile. He's the largest crush you've had since you were in middle school and watched your first Justin Timberlake video.

"I guess I have to stop by John B's house tonight, huh? Pay a visit to JJ?" You're able to feel the heat raging off of Rafe's body.

You grab his arms, pleading for him not to make a scene. "No don't! Please, Rafe! What do you want? Aren't I giving you enough?"

"No." Rafe firmly grasps your wrists, flinging them away from touching him. "Block JJ's number, and stop talking to the fucking Pogues."

You agree, nodding as tears swell in your eyes.

"You live in this house, you're a fucking Kook!" His raised voice rains frightening screams upon you. "...Better yet, you're not even a Kook, you're mine.You're Rafe's, and if you continue to be hard headed and act like a fucking child, I'll release hell on Earth... you know that I can, and that I fucking will."

"Tell me you understand y/n, before I make you hate me even more." His voice lowers into a final threat.

You've seen him get rough with people, better yet, you've seen him already kick JJ's ass once for something that had nothing to do with you... doing it again would only make his day.

You gulp. "I get it Rafe, I understand."

...

Silence fills the room as he continues to gawk deviously over what is his, you.

Rafe wipes a fallen tear from your face. "Kiss me."

He tilts your chin to reach his lips and places the most tender kiss he has ever given you.

Rafe claims you as his as he grabs a handful of your ass, prying your sweetly soft lips apart as his tongue locks with yours. Rafe Cameron's tongue kiss is the only thing that has ever made your knees weak. Sadly, you can't decide if you still hate him or if his need to be possessive over you is actually causing you to love him.

[absolutehomosexuals]

Astarion's ascension is extremely popular, despite it clearly being the designed bad ending for him.

So many fans of this version want to argue that it's a "valid" path to choose if you enjoy his character, or that it's equally good as his Spawn ending. The "it's what he wants" argument is the hegemonic justification in question.

But is wanting something better than needing another thing? Yes, he talks about ascension ever since he finds out about the ritual.

Yes, when push comes to shove he's still committed to ascend. But is this enough? Should we support his choice, even when everything but his words tell us not to? Should we trust the judgment of a deeply traumatized man about the best way for him to feel better?

This may sound harsh, but the answer is no.

Because in many circumstances, we see Astarion behaving unhealthily as a result of his trauma: he's hypersexual at the beginning of the game, using sex as a survival mechanism. He's yet to learn what his boundaries should be, what it means not to be an object, to see himself as a person that deserves respect and has so much more to offer than just his body. His trauma is still fresh. And he's so scared of losing his freedom, being trapped under slavery again.

We can't blame him being so desperate to feel safe that he will trade everything he is for it.

Because that's what the ritual means, Cazador says so himself: despite gaining the ritual's power, Astarion is still part of the bargain for said power. He still loses his soul in the process, and that is clear once we see how he acts post-ascension.

Of course, someone that is still suffering from the consequences of 200 years of abuse wouldn't care if he became less of himself, in the process of becoming untouchable ever again. Astarion's behaviour towards himself highlights that he doesn't care for the person he is because that person is, sadly, the product of those centuries of abuse.

He doesn't want to be that person anymore: even better, he doesn't want to be a person anymore: people suffer, people get taken advantage of, people are submitted by more powerful beings. He is willing to give this up not despite losing everything he is, but because of it. And that's what happens after his ascension: he retains his body, which becomes an empty shell of who he once was, with someone else inside of it to fill the void left by his soul.

This situation is a perfect, brutal metaphor of an abused person that later in life becomes the abuser himself, a thing that often happens to male victims of SA.

This is what is fundamentally wrong with Astarion's ascension: he's choosing power, his abuser's tool, over healing. Instead of learning to feel like a person again, to deal with his trauma to life after having endured it, he chooses to not feel anymore, while letting thousands of spawns (like he was) be consumed to get what he wants.

This terribly selfish act is the first instance of Astarion behaving like Cazador, considering the spawns as lesser beings, as nothing but his tools, like all vampire lords do. In this process he also sees himself, the person he gives up being, as a tool. He isn't healing. He's losing all of himself entirely.

Why would someone see this sacrifice as not only necessary to leave his trauma behind, but also preferable to healing from it?

The fan-favourite characteristic of Ascended Astarion is his behaviour towards Tav: in this version of "himself", he clearly is even more sexual than he was in his first days with the tadpole. And this expression of his sexuality is drastically different from the one we got to know prior to this point.

He is dominant, prevaricating, demanding in his avances: he enjoys being in a position of power even in his relationship.

This isn't the Astarion that slowly learns to trust his partner, to build a real loving relationship with someone who sees him as equal and truly cares for him.

Everything that he learns during his romance and his plot gets nullified by his ascension; and yet, this gets overlooked in favour of this more sexually appealing version of him. For people that claim to love his character because of his complexity, Ascended Astarion fans seem to only truly love him when he's less of himself than ever.

When all that's left of him is his body, and he behaves more like the toxic love interest from a young adult romance book, a great number of his fans get wild. Is this all that they want from him? The husk of the funny, sarcastic, dramatic and complex character, filled with this more traditionally masculine attitude, replacing what he used to be? An Astarion that never heals from his trauma, choosing to leave behind everything he was instead? Who resembles his abuser more than ever?

Do his fans who like his ascended version so much to genuinely think this is the best outcome for him, or do they just enjoy being able to project this "macho" fantasy on a physically attractive male character, that otherwise isn't anything like this prototype of man?

We can't help but think that appreciating Ascended Astarion is the same as believing in, if not loving, his hypersexual facade: it's overlooking his humanity in favour of sexualising him.

Which is the biggest disservice one could ever do to his character.

[twig-tea]

Why We Are Gives Me Anxiety

I have been fighting myself on this We Are post for weeks because I wanted to make sure I knew what I wanted to say and was able to say it. I feel the need to say off the top that I don’t begrudge anyone who enjoyed this show and I’m genuinely glad it brought comfort to people. The show in and of itself, as 16 hour-long episodes of fluff (shout-out to @stuffnonsenseandotherthings for using this word to pinpoint the genre for this show, because it’s perfect), is not offensive or bad or wrong or any judgmental or moralistic word. And it does some things well; the centrality of the friend group was a lovely aspect to this show, and the chemistry in the friendship group scenes was on point. All of the couples have good romantic chemistry as well, and the show is packed with butterflies-inducing moments. 

That being said, I did not enjoy watching this show. I watch television mostly for the story; This show felt more like watching 16 special episodes for a show I hadn’t seen (I think this can be attributed to the point made by @italianpersonwithashippersheart in her post here that the show assumes the audience comes to the show with a pre-existing buy-in to the ships). The lack of overarching narrative structure of We Are gave my brain nothing to hold onto and I spent so much of every episode futilely trying to figure out how scenes worked with what had come before, what the show was trying to say, what these characters were thinking–all of which I knew was the wrong way to be watching, but it’s the way my brain works, so I spent a lot of the show frustrated. In short, this show wasn’t for me. 

But that’s not why I feel the need to write about it. Shows are fully allowed to not be for me, I usually can differentiate between when a show is doing something I don’t like well, or when it’s failing at its own goals. And I don’t begrudge people with different taste getting catered to sometimes; my refrain is that most problems of representation are not solved by calling for less of something, and rather than wanting something not to be made, I’d rather champion for more and a greater variety of content. And lord knows there’s enough BL to go around these days (shouting out @respectthepetty’s post along these lines, which I loved) . But We Are still worries me, and I’ve been trying to find a way to articulate that my concerns are not actually about the show itself, in isolation, but rather about how it feels like part of a pattern. This is my best attempt at laying that out. It’s going to get a little ramble-y, so apologies in advance.

Shout-out to @bengiyo who first articulated this anxiety in his post from relatively early in the show’s run . Ben gets into some of where I’m coming from with concerns about what this show means for the genre in this post, which as he mentions we've chatted about in DMs. I’m really grateful to him for these conversations because in isolation, I worried that I was being alarmist. It was helpful to have confirmation that he was feeling the same way so that I could get out of my own head.  

Ben mentions in his post that New Siwaj has been in this business a long time, and I, like Ben, have jived with him for years because he manages to imbue queer angst into his shows in a way that resonates with me, even when he’s had missteps. I'm going to lay out some of the major highlights of his work for those who haven't followed New for years.

He was an editor on Love Sick, arguably the start of the Thai BL genre as we know it today, and a show full to the brim of queer angst. He directed Make It Right, one of my favourite Thai BL comedy series. This show was also an ensemble centered around a friendship group (though admittedly it didn’t balance the friendship and romance content as strongly as We Are), and it covers so many topics that felt refreshing at the time and still are rare (morning-after sex visits to the clinic because things went poorly, hooking up on the apps, sex acts beyond just penetration, suicidality, I could go on). He also was involved in the GMMTV Waterboyy series–this was his first work for GMMTV that I am aware of. That show had a lot of issues but did explore internalized homophobia and bullying.

He worked as a cinematographer on En of Love, which is again similar to We Are in that it has several couples connected by a friendship group (and is several novels in one series), but each couple was given its own miniseries instead of bundling them into one show. En of Love also still dealt with some serious queer angst, especially in the Love Mechanics story [Sidenote, Niink, the director for En of Love, stuck with New and moved on to work for Wabi Sabi].

At this point, New created his own company, Studio Wabi Sabi, which he's said in interviews was to gain more creative control over what he was working on. And his stories became arguably even more explicitly queer and inclusive of queer trauma. He screenwrote and produced Love By Chance (which folks may not remember or know, but that core story starts off with Pete being blackmailed for being gay until Ae convinces him to come out to his mother and shut down the leverage for blackmail, and a good chunk of Pete’s character arc is unlearning internalized homophobia and not seeing himself as ‘corrupting’ Ae) and then Until We Meet Again. The queer angst in UWMA probably doesn’t need my help spelling out, but just in case anyone doesn’t know the summary, this show was about a queer couple who committed suicide in the face of homophobia in the 1980s, and were reborn and given another chance to be together in present day. I did want to note that in both of these series (LBC and UWMA) the core romance itself has no major conflicts; both AePete and DeanPharm felt like they were intentionally side-stepping so many of the usual BL drama tropes of jealousy and misunderstandings through trust and communication. Dean and Pharm’s story took that even further by having so many of the usual drama pitfalls for a gay couple just not be a problem; their only drama comes from their past lives, in a beautiful exploration of the breaking of intergenerational trauma. So many external threats to their relationship ended up being non-starters, and this was my version of a comfort series for that reason. 

From there, New started working with GMMTV again, and directed My Gear and Your Gown. This series was, to my knowledge, the first GMMTV BL series to mention HIV and to show characters getting tested at the clinic, and while it wasn’t perfect representation (didn’t get into PrEP, treated HIV as a death sentence), it felt like an important milestone.

[I’m skipping the sequels and specials he did for series I already talked about, because they don’t feel that important to the story I’m telling here and this is already so long, but I wanted to acknowledge that I’m not covering everything in his oeuvre.]

He then directed 7 Project, which had some serious storylines dealing with bullying and struggling with life in the closet, out of Wabi Sabi, and then Star and Sky out of GMMTV. Star in My Mind included one of the main characters in a beard relationship for years, and some controversy over the adaptation choices to make Daonuea (Dunk’s character) less polite than in the books. There was drama around the pronouns and characterization in that show (both Daonuea and Khabkluen use guu/mueng in the series, but in the novel, Daonuea uses rao; he also curses in the series and novel fans complained that he was too ‘masculine’). I thought it was an interesting attempt at a departure from BL character tropes to try to make Daonuea more evenly matched with Khabkluen in terms of his gender presentation in the show. Sky in Your Heart also included some angst about whether people of a particular station could be gay. Both of these shows (SIMM and SIYH) were also very trope-y, but they had clear throughlines. 

My Only 12%, the next show New directed out of Wabi Sabi, contains one of my favourite moments in all of BL, in which Seeiw sees Love of Siam and cries because it makes him realize he’s gay. There’s this heartfelt moment where he asks his sister, if there’s nothing wrong with being gay, why doesn’t the film let the gay characters have a happy ending? Despite the weird PSA ending, this show remains one of my favourites.

This is an aside but I’ve long been fascinated about this moment in New’s history: he played himself in War of Y, as a director of BL who is sick of being forced to make BL shows full of fanservice; he treats the actors with disdain and cuts marketable high heat scenes from the show which makes everyone nervous for the show’s future. Later we see him and the actor characters on set for My Only 12%, much happier. I ask myself about this moment at least once a week: Did he write this self-insert? Did someone else write the character and he just played it, and the similarities to his style were (were not?) a coincidence? I hope someone knows and tells me one day,

From there, New functioned as an Executive Producer of Dear Doctor, I’m Coming for Soul [I think this was the first outsourced project by Wabi Sabi]. This series’ entire plot is a metaphor for living in the closet and waiting for the time when the main couple can be together fully without having to hide. 

He directed A Boss and a Babe for GMMTV (which had its problems for sure, but also had Cher as an out gay man at the workplace dealing with casual homophobia in a way that was extremely satisfying), and then Between Us, which is maybe the least queer feeling show Wabi Sabi produced on its own, but did go into the issues of dating and the closet while trying to become a star (if I’ve forgotten something from this show let me know, I only watched it the once). One of the things that was so strange about this show was it being a sequel to UWMA but not engaging with the same themes. The only mention of real world queerness I can remember was the acknowledgment that they can’t get married in Thailand and Dean and Pharm discussing again going abroad and getting married there. 

Absolute Zero was a complete mess of a show; New directed this one for Wabi Sabi, and it has some similarities to UWMA in the sense of there being an attempt at saving the gays from the bury your gays trope, this time via time loop rather than reincarnation, but it did not take the issues it raised seriously enough (including the age gap created between the two characters by virtue of time travel). 

And that leads us to We Are for GMMTV, which as Pluem (@happypotato48)  wrote in his excellent post about this, includes Toey using nu and other 'feminine' or 'youthful' sounding language, but also apparently dropped the main conflict of the novel between Phum and his father (because his father disapproved of Peem).

Why did I go through all of that? Because I wanted to lay out how I've watched New Siwaj’s career go from finding a way to tell incredibly poignant and healing queer narratives (by creating his own company, and fitting these moments into the GMMTV series he did work on) to stripping out queerness from the shows he’s creating in the last year or so.

And this is a pattern we’re seeing more widely at GMMTV in particular, but also in Thai QL more widely. This is something that was touched on but not really discussed in the most recent episode of The Conversation podcast (the 23.5 and only boo! episode here). In both 23.5 and Only Boo!, the show faked out a homophobic parent and then treated their kids like they were silly to assume the worst, and I hated that.

Both Ongsa and Kang had internalized homophobia in their respective series. Both were terrified of telling their mothers about their homosexual love interest. And in both cases, their mothers told them something along the lines of 'of course I will support you no matter what'. In Ongsa's case, even though she was outed by Sun without her consent, she's the one who ends up apologizing for her hesitancy and feeling foolish for her concern. In Kang's case, the show never challenges his mother's assertion that she'll always support him even though we know she hasn’t (she was the one who wanted to prevent him from studying art before his father died), and it’s the audience that was left feeling foolish for our concern. 

In the GMMTV round table for Pride Month, it was mentioned that the decision for Ongsa's mother to be accepting of her relationship with Sun was made in order to model good parental behaviour for the older generation in the audience. In the novel, Ongsa's mother presents a significant conflict, but this conflict was erased from the show. I don't know if the same decision was made in Only Boo! for the same reason or not, but either way, the show definitely signalled to Kang's mother having an issue with Kang's relationship with Moo, and then said "sike", which I did not enjoy. The Conversation panelists were correct in the conversation linked and transcribed above that this wasn't the most egregious misstep either show made, but it feels like a telling symptom of the larger overall narrative problems that New is also now succumbing to.

It seems as though telling stories stripped of queer conflict is being seen as progressive, and possibly also easier to sell, and this is where my anxiety lies around what this will mean for Thai QL content in future. 

For the record, I am all for creating queer content in which we envision a better world for ourselves. But when that is the goal, understanding where internalized homophobia comes from and thinking through how removing parental objection will affect the character and the story is vital to the story and characterization remaining coherent. Otherwise it just ends up feeling like the show is telling queer kids that they're paranoid, rather than rightly worried (like I wrote about in this thread on My Love Mix-Up Thailand, where the same decision was made again to fake out a homophobic subplot that was removed from the adaptation but was present in the source material).

These choices speak to adaptation choices with an eye for specific moments and story points, rather than to a narrative or character arc, which is where it feels like they fall into the wider pattern of what @bengiyo, @shortpplfedup and @ginnymoonbeam were describing in their discussion: shows caring more about hitting specific meme-able story points listed out on a whiteboard than about making cohesive sense or having something coherent to say. 

[So as not to leave it out: I don’t think there were concerns of homophobia in the Wandee Goodday novel (novel readers feel free to correct me if I’m wrong about this) but the show faked us out about homophobia concerns anyway, which again really bothered me during that watch and which adds to the pattern.] 

Now, of course, as I stated up at the top there is value in the creation of different kinds of media. These shows sell different fantasies than the ones I want to see, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have value.All of BL has some amount of fantasy that it’s buying into, that’s what comes with the territory of ‘fiction’. The BL bubble (in which homophobia doesn’t exist and all men are gay for each other) is a version that is at its most extreme; nothing bad ever happens that isn’t quickly resolved within an episode, so there is never narrative tension, and nobody really needs to be that concerned about how anything will go ever. I do not find these relaxing because I can’t buy into the fantasy they’re selling; for me, the lack of narrative tension is so unbelievable as to ruin my immersion. But I can see why that would be appealing for someone whose brain is not always on alert and running at 11/10! The problem I am anticipating is when the majority of content is made that way, and when it is done in a way that takes up all of the mainstream space. I think it’s notable that the only show that’s really felt not in the queer bubble from GMMTV in 2024 is Cooking Crush, which was done by a subsidiary team within GMMTV (and the same team went on to make Only Boo!). And this is why We Are caught my attention and made me nervous; When a director who is known for his representation of poignant queer angst makes an entire 16-hour series in which there are no significant conflicts at all and the only hint of homophobia is in Toey’s reference to being bullied prior to the timeframe of the series, I get worried about who is going to be making the queer angst shows in future!  

For the record, my personal preference for comfort shows are the shows that do not pretend the world is perfect, but do depict an idealized subset of that world→where there’s a group of people that support one another through the bullshit of others and the less than perfect world that surrounds them. Shows that teach us to be kind to one another, and ourselves. Shows that say the world is going to suck sometimes, but we can be good to one another, and not lose sight of who we are, and make space for others to be themselves. A few of my favourite Thai series that do this would be: 

Bad Buddy

Cooking Crush

City of Stars

Knock Knock Boys

Miracle of Teddy Bear

My Only 12%

Secret Crush on You

To Sir With Love

Until We Meet Again

(and of course these occur in non-Thai shows as well. A few examples of my favourites: What Did You Eat Yesterday, DNA Says Love You, Light on Me, Oppan, Marahuyo Project, TsukuTabe, Tadaima Okaeri, Koisenu Futari, Joshi-teki Seikatsu, Gameboys, Hehe and He, Twilight out of Focus, She Makes My Heart Flutter)

These are shows in which there are explicitly external judgments on the relationships in the show and/or the characters for things intrinsic to who they are, and the characters build a support structure in which folks are encouraged to be themselves within that ‘bubble’ (Bad Buddy walks a fine line because it’s within the BL bubble but the problems that the main couple face are so a direct allegory that everything feels familiar; this is also the case with Tadaima Okaeri, which is both omegaverse and one of the most beautifully kind shows of all time). 

So for now, I still have the other smaller Thai studios including Kongthup Productions (who made Knock Knock Boys; we’ll see whether their latest series Monster Next Door deals with any queer angst or not), idolFactory (just finished My Marvellous Dream is You, which had a ton of queer angst, and is currently doing The Loyal Pin, which I have hope for on this front), DeeHup (currently making I Saw You In My Dream, which I’m holding out hope for) and StarHunter Entertainment (who made City of Stars, but whose record is a little spotty on this front; Their latest, Sunset Vibes, has not done a great job of handling the theme of office relationships and blackmail so far, and feels very much in the bubble) to look forward to. 

But as you can see even just by virtue of the caveats I included above, it feels like this shift is happening in the smaller companies too (harder to see a real pattern with fewer data points, which is one of the reasons why I picked on GMMTV–in addition to it being the largest media conglomerate in Thailand and therefore able to take it). Maybe it’s nothing, maybe I’m just an anxious person. Or maybe I’m just wrong about what would be best for the genre and for queer people in Thailand as well as viewers all over the world. But I, for one, would find it a loss if Thai QL decides en masse to pivot away from queer angst, and right now it kind of feels like that’s what it’s doing. In this context, to reiterate my original point, the existence of We Are is not a problem, but is one in a set of exemplars that raised specific alarm bells due to the people involved and their history in QL and queer representation, its deviation from the source material, and the surrounding shows that seem to indicate a pattern rather than a one-off. 

[hannah-banana-lou]

Come back to me

So to start off with, i hate a lot of fanfics that include the (y/n) character as a barely legal, fragile, tiny thing that is oblivious to sex because that is just not me! i love alot of fanfics that have a lot of world building, real life issues and are really in depth, mixed in with some smut, steamy romance and fluff. i know this will not be for everyone but for those who do enjoy that, i hope this does it for you!

Husband William afton x Wife female reader - AU.

Planning on making this into a series if people like it!

content warning: marriage issues, smut, verbal abuse, age gap couple - william (early 50's) Reader (mid/late 20's)

UNDER 18'S DNI!!!

Come back to me (pt.1)

A glance. A kiss. Lips crashing down unto yours. he has you pinned against the bedroom door, panting heavily. Hands exploring places they've been so many times before. yours hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt. desperation. his hooking their way into your sweatpants, teasingly close to where you need him, where you're yearning for him. his kisses moving from your lips, slowly trailing along your jaw before reaching your neck. he bites, suckles and licks the skin there, sending tingles throughout your body, reaching to your core. you're lost in the moment, feeling his beard scratch so deliciously against your skin, his lips soft but desperate. You need this. He needs this.

"mommy!" your ears prick up. the sound of one of your twins calling for you. you ignore it, trying to focus on the present scene unfolding in front of you.

"mommy, look at me!" again. calling for you. you can feel a haze slipping over you. mind going grey, unable to feel the kisses being planted.

a snap of your husbands fingers and you jump. you're in the garden, sitting on the patio next to william. the morning sun is beaming, your two children running around the garden, screaming and giggling. you glance over at william, he is staring at you. the silence between you both brooding ... deafening.

"your children are calling for you. just gonna ignore them?" he grunts out. a dig at you, most definitely.

you shake your head in response, taking the cup filled with coffee off the table, moving it up to your lips and taking a sip, you frown. it's gone cold.

the better part of the morning is spent playing with your children, trying to forget that you have a marriage counselling appointment in the early afternoon. not the first and most definitely not the last. no doubt william will find some excuse to not attend, he thinks marriage counselling is a scam, a waste of money. he refused to even acknowledge the idea until you nagged him for weeks. he eventually gave up.

you're now sat in the car, he's driving. the silence is painful. the drive to the appointment, uncomfortable.

your in the appointment. all his responses are grunts or a few word answers, while you're pouring your heart out, begging for him to just talk to you. a usual occurrence during these appointments.

You stop crying, lost in thought. maybe he was having an affair, it would explain a lot... no. yes. wait... would he do that to you? when would he have the time? god. don't be silly, he isn't cheating on you.... right? Before your mind can trail off anymore the therapist throws a question to you both.

"what are the biggest issues within your marriage? we have discussed this before briefly, however i'm curious as to the individual answers. William, why don't you start us off? yes?"

you glance over at william. he is staring directly at the therapist, poor woman, having to endure his death stare. his eye twitches slightly. he's trying to calm himself before answering. you avert your gaze back to the floor.

"Nothing is wrong with my marriage. i dont believe there are issues" your husband spits out.

the older woman nods, accepting his answer before she turns to you and nods again, signalling for you to answer.

"well... for starters i feel like he doesn't want me around anymore. he avoids me like the plague. there is no love, no affection, no.... no intimacy anymore" you begin.

william adjusts himself in his seat. clearly annoyed at the intimacy comment. you keep your gaze focused on the therapist.

"He wont talk more than a few words to me without snapping at me, he's stopped sleeping in our bedroom, he's taken the spare room instead. i never see him anymore. i'm... i... I've just had enough. it's hard living in a space that you have known as home for many years, yet feel so unwelcome at the same time" you finish. you can feel his stare burning into the side of your head.

the older woman nods again. that's all she seems to do, just nod. it can be quite annoying. she looks between you both.

"Y/N why do you feel like William has become this way with you?"

you sigh, not knowing the answer. you could only answer with what your mind has provided as far fetched ideas over the past few months. you shrug. "i'm not sure. i have a lot of ideas, none that could be close to the truth though" you respond, voice soft, deflated. like you've given up.

"One good way to get your marriage on track is open communication. Y/n why dont you share your ideas with William. it's a good place to start"

you sigh again and look over at william. he is staring at the floor. annoyed written all over his features. he looks over at you

"William..." you start with a sigh. "i... uhm... i have begun to think that maybe... you have fallen out of love with me" his gaze softens, almost looking heartbroken that you could ever think that. he shakes his head. he goes to reach out his hand, it lifts ever so slightly but stops immediately, his fists tightened, a small noise escaping his lips. almost like the whimper of a wounded animal as he quickly avoids your gaze, looking back down at the floor.

you take a moment to process what just happened. what was that noise? sound of affirmation? or denial? maybe his reaction is something to be hopeful for?

"any other ideas you have that you would like to share?" she adds quickly.

you nod, taking a deep breath. you knew he wasn't going to like this one but you had to get it out before the thought consumes you.

"William, i have thought for a while that you are having an affair." you blurt out.

his softened gaze quickly turns to a grimace, furrowed eyebrows. followed with a scoff before he stands up, grabbing your hand "session over. thanks for your time doc, see you next month" he mumbles as he pulls you out the door. the doctor looking more so confused than ever as she watches the two of you leave abruptly.

you get back into the car. oh he's pissed. maybe he is embarrassed that you brought that up? self conscious of how he looks in front of the therapist maybe?

he drives in silence before turning into an empty parking lot near a wooded trail path, probably for dog walkers.

he parks up before turning to you, face twisted with anger "An affair? an affair? .... AN AFFAIR?" He snaps. you nod "it just makes s-" he cuts you off "NO Y/N! NO! the falling out of love i can understand but an affair? i have done nothing to make you think that way"

you look at him confused.

"you're not affectionate. you're only happy when you're around the kids, you're only affectionate in public for 'appearances', you wont sleep in the same bed as me, let alone fuck me anymore, so you must be getting it from someone else!" you angrily snap out, you knew being with an older man would have it's problems but not to this extent.

he rolls his eyes. scoffs. "you're ridiculous. i am not having an affair!"

"it makes more sense than 'i'm stressed' " you quickly respond

he scoffs again but doesn't respond. just stares out the windshield of the car into the woods adorning the outskirts of the parking lot. the forest looked peaceful, serene almost. you continue to stare at him waiting for a response. receiving nothing.

you place your hand on his thigh gently "Will... Bear. please just talk to me... let me in again" you whisper. no response from him. he smiles in his mind at the use of the old nickname for him.

he was your bear. Tall, grumpy and hairy as one. Used to have you in fits of laughter when he would groan and snore, you telling him the attributes resembled a bear when you were first dating. hence the nickname.

Something snaps inside of him.

Your argument before, playing through his mind.

He looks over at you, eyes boring into yours. he reaches his hand out, cupping your cheek. it's been too long since he last touched you.

He moves from your cheek and trails his fingers through the mids of your hair before leaning down, hand clamped on the back of your head, moving you up to meet him halfway, lips on yours. slow. tender. A sense of yearning in the kiss. you let out a small surprised noise. not complaining in the slightest. just surprised, shocked even.

he pulls away ever so slightly, lips still touching. a small protesting whine leaving your lips as you desperately try to kiss him again. he stops you. nuzzling his nose against yours. hot breaths caressing each others skin. his lips soft. as you remember them. a free hand intertwined with your left hand, fingers caressing your wedding and engagement rings.

"I've not fallen out of love with you bunny" he breaks the silence, his words barely above a whisper. desperation. yearning. sadness being carried in his voice.

[dusty-daydreams]

as someone who read the books I feel like the show creators decided to make Lady Whistledown this mean, reputation-ruining person instead of harmless gossiper simply to create drama, because in the books she kinda doesn't really add anything until Penelope's book and even their she is mainly an outlet for Penelope to write her opinions because she is too insecure to share them in public ( which is why when she gives it up after finally growing some confidence is such good moment, she doesn't need Whistledown anymore to say what she thinks). The show made Whistledown way too important and her words have way more consequences while not having Penelope face theses consequences or realize how wrong she is, so she comes off as mean and a jealous person. I thought this season might actually have Penelope realize her wrongdoings and try to make amends ( and it almost seems like they were about to do this in the first episode) but then nothing really seemed to change, in fact I feel like she enjoys her power even more so now, and having her hide her identity from Colin is honestly messed up on so many levels, like girl you are doing the same shit you judge Marina for. Also I have this feeling that she is gonna continue being Whistledown even after this season ends which completely ruins the point of Penelope finding confidence and saying what she feels without hiding behind mask.

I haven’t read the books, but based on what people say Whistledown is like in the books I think that the Show made her a bigger deal to add a gimmick to the show. It wasn’t enough for it to be a sexy historical fantasy romance show, the BBC does about five of those every year, no in order to get Netflix to sign up they needed a twist and that twist was Regency Gossip Girl - they had something like that in the books they just had to up the ante by a lot to make it more dramatic

Which is why I don’t think that they are going to have Penelope give up being Whistledown (even though in order to redeem her character they need to have her give it up and make amends). Lady Whistledown on a show production level is the edge that stops this show from being a kind of poorly written wildly inaccurate historical sex romp that people have seen before.

So they can’t get rid of Whistledown without making the show less interesting.

But all of that executive level let’s make the show more interesting completely screws over Penelope, because she is no longer a shy woman expressing opinions anonymously. Now she is a cruel vicious two-faced villain who strikes without thinking things through, and she can’t truly grow from that position because the show needs Lady Whistledown.

Yet how can we have Penelope have her HEA with Colin like we are contractually obligated to do with these changes? Why by pretending that she hasn’t been doing anything wrong of course!

Which means they heightened her villainy and lowered the consequences to desperately make it seem like what she has been doing is cool actually.

On an in-universe level, it is super messed up that Penelope is now doing the exact same thing Marina did that Penelope punished her so terribly for - entrapping Colin into a marriage under false pretences

But that’s kind of the corner the show painted itself into

Thanks for the ask Anon it was super interesting

[harleys1nhawaii]

MAYBE

pairing: dabi/todoroki touya x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of sex, smoking, etc.

wc: 2k+

a/n: its crazy that how many thoughts of him there are in my head yet i can't fucking write anything. there isn't 1 damn day i dont think about him and this should be a mfkng crime. i am SICK AND TIRED i love him more than anything. anyway, enjoy<3

dabi knows somethings wrong. he can't really point out what it is or name the pain, but he knows he's doing something wrong.

or maybe, he's pretending. he is a cruel villain that'd take hundreds' life in a heartbeat with no remorse, set the buildings ablaze with no sign of guilt. he was a bad person who did bad shit, that's for sure. that was who and what he was. he had to be real heartless to have done all of that, hadn't he? he had to be some kind of sociopath who lost the ability to feel ages ago.

then why he felt this way? like he was hurting.

he hated that.

he hated having that agonizingly stinging pain in middle of his chest. like he had been stabbed a thousand times yet still couldn't die. almost as if he couldn't even bring his feet to move to walk. as if he would rather do all the stupid bullshit than feel it.

he was afraid because no matter how he pretended like he didn't care, maybe he really did. he was scared to death for the first time in forever because he knew something was terribly wrong but he didn't know what it was. he was scared because now he was feeling his feelings after claiming himself to be no longer able to do that, and he wasn't used to it in any way. he had no idea how to deal with it.

or maybe, dabi was scared.

dabi was scared to lose you. he wished he didn't feel that. the guilt. the guilt of all the times he had treated you like you were nothing but just a sex partner to him. all the times he acted like he didn't care. all the times he pushed any slight of intimacy away and ignored all his feelings. and all of those times he gave everything in himself to not care about how you felt, about you.

he sighed deeply and closed his eyes shut. where did all of these took him to? other than hurting you, hurting himself. he couldn't bare the idea that he loved. what the fuck did that mean? he had a will to reach, a long path to walk through. he couldn't waste his dear time on pointless romance shit and none of the troubles it brought with itself.

he needed to be sane, as if he hadn't lost it ages ago. but he needed that. he needed his mind. with no one other in it to keep him in the same spot of life for god knows how long.

dabi was angry. no, he was fucking furious.

how could he drop his guard like that? how could he let you get into his heart? you two had promised to be nothing but just sex partners, with no fucking strings attached. this was what it should've been. 2 people that had nothing to do with each other's business and life other than satisfying each other when needed.

then why he wanted more? why couldn't he bare the feeling of guilt everytime he left you all alone? this should've been what was right. he had a life to live, places to be and shits to do. he couldn't be with you all day. and why would he anyway? at the end, he was the careless one. the reckless, the nonchalant vile villain bastard.

he had to be. he knew that if he allowed himself to feel, he couldn't turn back.

then why? why why why why? he wanted to smash his head against the rock he was leaning on. what the fuck was wrong with this? what the fuck was wrong with him? why couldn't he stop thinking about you? why did he want to hug you, why did he want to kiss you so damn bad?

his hands trembled, almost making him drop the cigarette he was holding between his fingers. his jaw clenched in sync with his left hand, making it go into a fist. silent curses came out under his breath, once again, eyes closed shut.

maybe, dabi loved.

dabi loved the way you made him feel. like he was still breathing even while he was holding his breath. like he had a reason to keep going and fight with the heroes harder, knowing he had a place to be after all this distress ended. like he had a reason to wake up and get done his grueling businesses, repeating himself continuously that maybe you two will meet that night.

like he was living.

dabi hated that to the bone. but oh, dabi loved that more than anything. he had tasted how it felt to be alive and now he knew he wanted more. he needed more.

dabi stood up as he threw the almost burnt out cigarette away. this time, he didn't stumble as he walked, nor did he feel his legs giving up on him. this time, he knew where he was going and his chest didn't fill up with the same old worry and pain.

because this time, he knew he needed you with him and he wasn't afraid of it. he needed to be there for you and hold you in his arms like he always wanted to but could never had the boldness in himself to attempt to. he needed to kiss the wounds of yours that he caused to appear and patch them up to never reopen them again.

dabi walked faster, ignored the sounds of honking horns rising from the cars he walked past by, ignored the world.

dabi needed to reach you.

dabi needed you.

[deadbeat-motel]

For my rewrite, I wanted to tie each sinner who's staying at the motel to a specific deadly sin to make it easier to understand what got them in hell and just for the fun of it.

It doesn't apply to the rest of hell to have a specific sin, but I thought it was interesting that the inhabitants of the motel will represent a sin.

Some of these characters are still rough ideas and will be subjected to some changes once i finalize the actual lores for these characters:

First up, Angel Dust is easy to confuse as Lust because most people might assume that since he's a sex worker, its probably what got him in hell right? Though, his sin had nothing to do with being lustful since he didnt become a sex worker until then (plus being a sex worker doesnt warrant someone a tacket straight to hell). Instead what really did him in was Gluttony since it was his appetite for vices that got him into trouble and also inadvertently lead to his death and it was that appettite that lead him to take any and all clients to feed his appetite for angeldust.

Nifty's sin is Lust, though not in the traditional sexual sense that we know. For her sin's sake, Lust is all about an uncontrollable desire that leads one to do horrible acts in order to attain what they've been obsessing over. In the rewrite, I was going to let her be a lot younger (most likely an adolescent-young teen) with a very skewed sense of what romance/love is like and have her lean in more towards a yandere-type character or a crappy creepypasta kid character (think Nina the killer levels of crappypasta). I'm torn between the two ideas at the moment.

[Also fun fact, hearing that nifty was a japanese woman from the 1950's kind of took me off because googling it, she wouldve been a woman who grew up in the middle of world war 2 and lived through a bit of the Post war boom if we assumed she's also american as well. Having someone with a background like that who acts like she's mentally a child makes it feel like Viv did no research at all.]

Husk's sin remains as Greed, as gambling just seems so hard to quit for him, even when his life is on the line, especially when he's cheating death so many times. Maybe it was after he had his first close encounter with death in his youth... or the few couple of times during the war... that he began to think of himself as too lucky to die. Unfortunately for him, he'd have to learn the hard way that whatever force that was trying to save him can't do anything about his own body failing from years of self-destructive alcoholism.

[Husk will literally kill me with all the research I'll have to do from 1910-1970 to get his story straight.]

Alastor is one Prideful mf. As an intelligent serial killer (possibly cannibal), he was able to evade the police whilst keeping the high-profile radio host job he killed others for. He enjoyed leaving clues and slipping little hints around his scene that stumped the entire police department. In the end, getting sloppy because of his own overconfidence in his abilities was what did him in and he was chased down and shot by a hunter in his escape.

Sir Pentious is Envious of the Victorian family and those above the middle class. He believed that he deserved to have the same kind of privileges they have especially since he was a brilliant inventor who believed he could forward Great Britain to a greater future. So he gave up 15 years trying to take over the monarchy by himself and failing miserably. He died due to an invention gone wrong and that was the day Great Britain was rid of its persistent annoyance.

[Some people may read about him in history books and confuse him for an anti-monarchist when this man's entire goal was to replace the monarchy with himself.]

Cherri Bomb grew up as a resentful youth of the Japanese 70's being a sukeban of a delinquent girl gang. Their Wrath was known all across the other local schools in their area and they were known for their sheer brutality. However, Cherri Bomb in particular was also feared by other members of the gang as she was ruthless punishing those who wanted to leave the group. She doesn't ever disclose how she died to others and thus no one is ever really sure how she ended up down here but no one really feels the need to ask.

[I'm extremely unfamiliar with Australian history so Cherri Bomb will have to have grown up in Japanese 70-80's delinquent culture.]

.

There's one sin left.... but since I don't really have anyone in the HH cannon that could realistically fit Sloth, I'm left with two options: Characterizing the blank slate that is Crymini myself or leaving the last resident as a community effort "Build-a-Sinner."

So first poll ive done but....

[yearningaces]

(Too shy to say off nonny, sorry.) But I love your writing. Especially that it explores more than the sexual side of romances. I love to interact with the world in a way less driven in such a manner. It's a lovely change to see your writing in my sphere.

But also:

We have you meeting Nyx's family and fitting into his world, but what about trying to fit him into yours?

(never apologize, anon is on for a reason 👍)

I'm so so happy my blog can offer that for you! It's such a bummer each time I find some romantic buildup "plot sweet fluff they fuck." "Plot wholesome- they did this all just to fuck." "Romanc- they did it for sex."

And that's no problem! If people enjoy that then they can there's nothing wrong with enjoying sexual things, but as an asexual who is romantically attracted to folks(monsters mostly) it's disheartening to have almost every story end the same way so I have to skip huge chunks or just not read.which really minimizes how many stories I really have available

As for the idea you have!

Writing about families is far less reader inclusive so what I'm going to do is a brief overview that mostly is gonna focus on Nyx just being brought into the more human side of the world.

And with that in mind!

It takes time. And patience. Nyx is a bundle of nerves, and he loves you his wonderful human so much! But he's still terrified. Because you're sweet and good and know how to be gentle. Not every human does, and telling them apart is difficult at first.

Having to watch you and every other human tear through meat down to the bone at some restaurants (I'm craving ribs) takes him some time to not feel like he's about to fly out of his seat. So you compromised, he would never ask you not to eat something, but you do offer to cut whatever meat you're eating off the bone cause it seems to help his nerves.

The swarm and crowds of humans are so much larger than him, and so very loud for his delicate rabbit ears. Headphones and earbuds don't exactly work given his... Ear shapes.

What does work is a beanie he can tuck his ears into, or a crochet scarf(grandpa bun at it again) wrapped around his ears and head enough to cover them. It muffles the sounds.

Carry him. Please carry him, his legs are rabbit legs, his hind paws are rabbit paws no shoe can fit that and he refuses to wear dog shoes. Pavement is hot. Piggy back ride or sling him over your shoulder, if he's off the ground he's happy. (moreso if you show off that human strength)

Hates transportation at first. It's different, he walks or hops everywhere and now he just has to sit still and wait to get there? No. Give him the backseat to move around or find a bus that's not crowded so he can stretch his legs, y'all will not survive otherwise I'm sorry but ultimate "gotta move" attitude.

Other humans will scare him. You do, but in the attractive "this is my partner and they're so capable I love them so much" kinda way. Other humans set off danger alarms 24/7 that you only set off 11/7. It takes a good amount of time and slow buildup in exposure to combat this. If any human gets too close and doesn't hear him when he says to leave him alone(something you and him did practice) then he will fall on instincts and just bolt. So once you lay someone out in the asphalt, you gotta find the bun.

General aside, into family's. This is based around a loose idea of mother father siblings just because that's what I'm most familiar with

Absolutely prey fear in his eyes. Deer in the headlights when your folks opened the door to greet y'all together for the first time. You might have to actually carry him into the house and just sit with him for a few minutes, cuddle him a bit somewhere alone because he's in a human den of unknown humans. He needs to adjust to the many different scents and sights and sounds. And even if you vouch for them, these humans aren't you- he doesn't trust them the way he trust you and his instincts are absolutely screaming. 0/10 experience for the first few minutes.

Let him take his breaths and he'll gather his nerves to greet your family- but the best way would be to do so one by one. Otherwise it's another overwhelmed break time.

Eventually he might relax enough to rest around them, but Nyx absolutely will never sleep around any humans if you are not actively attached to him in that moment. He'll lay and lounge if he's really exhausted but will never sleep around your family or friends or any human if you aren't actively holding him or just close enough he can feel or at least smell you.

Humans are scary, they won't ever feel safe to him, that's just instinct. But you're his human, his partner. He'll sleep like a baby in your arms if it's just the two of you, and even if he wakes and has a heart attack because why are your eyes dilated in the dark and staring at him?

He's always gonna be a bunny boy. Always gonna be a bundle of nerves and hardwired red flag instincts because he is prey.

He can grow to trust and care about your family, but only really because they're an extention of you, selfish as it might seem.

[brunchable]

Thurber's Model — PT. 1 || William Thurber × F!Reader

Word Count: 8.2K Genre: Romance, Secrecy, Sneaking Around, Off-Limits Reader, Overwhelming Attraction Warning: Explicit. 18+ Only. unprotected p+v sex, accidental creampie, losing innocence. Parings: William Thurber x F!Reader Summary: William runs off to find some solitude to relieve some of the pressured of becoming the winner of this year's student art prize. In his search for the perfect place, he finds you along the way, reading your favorite play by Shakespeare. A/N: This is for the precious @classicrebound and for our thirsty asses ♡ PART II

“Mama says you won the award for the second time this year.” He looked down at the woman on his arm. The new expression on her face was calculating. Bloody hell. 

“Who was your inspiration?” she repeated more firmly this time. 

“My passion is the one thing that keeps me going,” he said carefully, not caring one bit for the new gleam of interest in her eyes. He didn’t expect many people to attend the museum, compared to last year’s celebration. This one was more grand, possibly because the exhibits are displayed under Dr. Reid’s museum of Arts.

“Hmmm.” She looked over his clothes as if she were taking inventory. 

He wore the latest fashion. He didn’t buy clothes often, but when he did, he went for quality. She seemed happy with what she saw if the little nod of approval was any indication. 

He desperately wanted to change the subject before she inquired about his other holdings. “So, what play did you attend?” 

Her face twisted up in disgust. “It was one of Shakespeare’s I’m afraid. I find them all a dreadful bore, but this one was most appalling. Mother insisted that we leave at intermission and I wholeheartedly agreed.” 

He stopped short. He rather enjoyed the Bard’s plays. He couldn’t think of anything in Shakespeare’s plays that would be appalling. His works are literal works of art, “What was wrong with the play?” 

“A woman was dressed in men’s clothing! It was obscene!” 

“Was the woman pretending to be her brother?” William asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Yes! It was dreadful.” 

“Was the play ‘As you like it’?”

“Yes.” It was one of his favourite plays. That answered that. 

“Rebecca, allow me to return you at once to your mother. I find that I need some fresh air.” Her grip on his arm suddenly tightened. 

“Fresh air sounds lovely.” She licked her lips, invitingly. Christ almighty, the girl wanted to trap him. William practically dragged her back to her mother and without another word he made his way outside. 

He stayed away from the garden and woodland. Those spots were reserved for couples who dared to have an affair in the freezing weather. Just a hundred yards from the main building was the orangery, which was bathed in the warm light of multiple lanterns. On a night like this, it was the ideal place to spend some time away from everything. He seriously doubted any attractive woman would go out in this weather for a tryst. The orangery was the safest place for him, and the fires that were kept going to keep the orange trees from withering would make the interior delightfully toasty. 

With the cold wind blowing in his face, he rushed the final twenty yards to the safety of the orangery, where he almost sighed with relief. With the fire crackling and oranges ripening in the background, he felt he could easily pass the next four hours here. Upon taking a closer look at the orange trees, he sighed in dismay at the realisation that this orangery had been erected relatively recently. The orange trees weren't very big, and their fruit was still unripe.

It was unfortunate that he hadn't brought anything to do while waiting, like a book or snacks. Not even an hour after eating, he was starving. It was nothing new. His hunger never subsided. Despite the fact that no one in his family ever completely understood it, at least they'd stopped making fun of him for it long ago. Nothing about spending four hours in the orangery with nothing to do or eat sounded enjoyable to him, but then, neither did going to an awards night, hearing the same compliments over and over again.

A number of oil lamps gave him sufficient light to see by. Because of the overwhelming brightness, couples often avoided coming here. There was no place for them to take cover if they were discovered. A soft noise caught his attention. He cautiously made his way through a grove of orange trees, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw what lay beyond. A woman with gorgeous brown hair that sparkled like the finest silk in the lantern light sat on a cushioned bench, reading a tiny book and laughing gently to herself.

Your laughter was like a balm to his soul, instantly relieving his anxieties even as his heart skipped a beat. As you flipped the page of your book, he didn't see that he'd inched closer to her until you let out a tiny sigh. He had no business intruding. This woman obviously came here to be alone. At last, he backed away from the situation reluctantly. He was so anxious to get out of there without being seen that he accidentally knocked over a bucket, which shattered the tranquillity of the orangery.

“Who’s there?” you demanded as you placed your book down on the bench beside you and stood. 

William felt his stomach turn and his breath caught in his throat at the first real view of your face. You were excruciatingly beautiful with brown eyes. You were, without a doubt, the most stunning lady he'd ever seen, and he desperately desired you. He gave his head a slight shake. He didn’t even know this woman. What in the hell was wrong with him?

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

“I can see you, so you might as well come out,” You said, placing your small book on the cushion beside you. 

A tall, dark-eyed man with a dashing smile walked forwards, and you studied him with interest. His short, black hair was fashioned in a different way than other men, but it suited him. Just like you, he had a nice tan. Your mother always seemed to find something to moan about, and your skin tone was one of them, but you were too busy enjoying the great outdoors to mind. You wanted the sun's warmth so badly that you ignored the fact that it was changing your skin tone.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave,” he said in a deep voice that you found soothing as he bowed slightly before taking a step back to do just that. 

“No, please. Do not feel forced to leave. If you just wanted some peace and quiet, I couldn't be so callous as to send you back out into the cold. This orangery, I think, is big enough for the two of us to retreat to in peace,” you said with a smile, hating the idea of turning anyone out into the cold and forcing him to return back to an exhibit that you hadn’t been able to escape fast enough.

“How do you know that I was searching for solitude? Perhaps I was meeting a lover?” he said, regretting it before the last word left his lips. 

What the hell was wrong with me? She would probably slap me or faint dead away at my lack of propriety. I truly was an idiot. William thought to himself.

You laughed instead, you actually laughed. It was gentle, mesmerising, and real. Compared to the phoney, tittering laughter of ladies like Rebecca, this was a breath of fresh air. Women like her made up their entire identities so that they would be accepted by the tonne and have a chance at finding a spouse who, like most men, wanted nothing more than a warm body to deliver an heir and didn't want the hassle of a woman with a brain.

“What’s so amusing, Miss? Are you implying that I wouldn't be able to persuade a woman to have a tryst with me?” he drawled, wondering if you knew just how charming your laugh was. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you stopped laughing, but at least your smile remained. “No, I’m sorry. I’m sure a man as handsome as you would have no difficulties finding a woman to share your time.” 

William was unable to suppress the idiotic grin that twisted up his lips. Naturally, he'd heard the word "handsome" thrown around to describe him before, but for reasons he couldn't explain, he took great pride in your use of it to describe him. “Then what brought you to the conclusion that I was looking for privacy?”

You shrugged as you sat back down, leaning to the side so that you could focus your attention on him. “Well, there’s the fact that this particular orangery is far beyond the appropriate distance from the Museum. No man is going to come out here with a woman unless he’s looking to be trapped.” He couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“Another factor is the climate. The weather is rather chilly. It's likely that a lady would gripe about having to walk that far to reach the orangery. It's also possible that she'd flat-out reject the idea because she's aware it's too chilly to go outdoors and that she'd be spotted if she tried to recover her shawl.”

Once again William nodded in agreement.

“Then of course there is the obvious.”

“Which is?” he asked, moving closer.

“A gentleman would not meet a woman here. He would escort her here so she wouldn't have time to reconsider or accept an offer from another man. Also, it would take too much time away from the party for both participants. There would be the time spent waiting for the other person to come, the time spent in the meeting itself, and the time spent afterwards by whoever stayed behind so that it didn't look like the two of you had left together."

He couldn’t help grinning. The woman wasn't just beautiful; she was intelligent, too. He cast his eyes around the expansive space as an idea formed in his mind. “Hmm, you’ve given this some thought. Are you perhaps meeting someone here? Or did he already leave?” he asked, making sure to add a teasing note to his tone.

Your smile weakened a bit as you shook your head. “No, there have never been any meetings for me and there probably never will be,” you admitted with a small shrug and a wistful tone that he almost missed.

“Why not?”

“I don’t plan on marrying,” you explained with a small smile.

“Why don’t you wish to marry?” he asked, forcing himself to sound casual. He wasn’t offering. Oh, hell no. It was unlikely he would ever get married unless he really needed an heir to carry on the family name. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life with someone who was constantly in his way and needed him to make her happy.

You looked thoughtful for a moment before you spoke. “I don’t want to be any man’s property."

“I thought that’s why these things,” he gestured back towards the party, “were thrown so that young women could find themselves a husband. So, they could select an appropriate husband, someone to take care of them.”

You shrugged indifferently. “Yes, I dare say that many of the women are here for that reason and would find me utterly foolish, because I don’t wish to find a husband at one of these events.” 

“Then why did you come?” He took another step closer. 

“Probably for the same reason that you did.” 

“Which is?” he prompted. He didn’t want you to stop talking for fear that one of them would have to leave. He wanted to make this last, but more importantly, he wanted to see your smile and hear your laugh one more time before he had to do the right thing and walk away. 

“Well,” you looked thoughtful, “in your case I would assume that either your mother or your father persuaded you to attend and critique this exhibition. If I had to guess, I would say that your mother was the one that expected your attendance.” 

“Oh?” 

You nodded firmly. “Your mother, definitely your mother. If it was your father you would have simply made an appearance, danced with a few women to make him think that you were looking for a wife and be done with it.”

He agreed. “If it was my mother? What reason would I have to attend then?” 

“Most mothers wish for their sons to marry for a simple reason, grandchildren. You came here even though you clearly don’t want to be here. You came to make your mother happy, because she requested your attendance and you obviously care a great deal for your mother. Instead of simply leaving, you searched for a place to hide.” 

He arched an eyebrow at that. “Or it could be that I came here because I'm the one getting critiqued and can't leave until I hear every single opinion people have to say.” he drawled. 

Your eyes slowly moved down his body in an assessing manner, but not in the same way that Rebecca had looked him over. Your gaze didn’t annoy him. Your gaze made him stand straighter as every muscle in his body flexed under your scrutiny, making him feel like an idiot even as he wondered if you liked what you saw. 

“You’re obviously a man with means. You could have hired a hack and left. There’s always the card room for escape or you could have simply left with a friend.” 

“Or walked,” he added. 

You smiled. “I much prefer walks myself. Yes, you could have walked provided that your home was close enough.” 

“Two miles.” 

“That’s not too far away.” 

“No, it’s not.” He rather enjoyed walks. He found himself taking walks every evening. Every night, he went for a walk. He discovered that he still loved strolling even in the bustling city of London when he visited. The obnoxious aromas and bustling crowds of the city did not seem to deter him.

He eyed you carefully. You had a delicate honey tone to your skin. You did not appear too slim or too fit. Your breasts were good size, not too big, but perfect for his hands, and from what he recalled from when you stood, your hips were generous. He was willing to bet your legs were well defined, probably from hours of walking. 

“So, you’re here because your parents want you to marry,” he surmised from what little he knew about you and what he knew about women of your station in general. 

You gave him a dreamy smile that made his chest tighten. “When I was a little girl I wanted nothing more than to have a season. It all seemed so magical, balls, dancing, and being courted by handsome men,” you added the last with a teasing tone. He grinned. 

“Sounds like every girl’s dream to find Prince Charming. What happened to change that dream?” he asked, coming closer. He was now standing only a few feet away from you. His original thought that you were beautiful shattered. You were nothing less than a goddess. 

You sighed heavily. “Nicholas.”

 He felt a tug of unease. Was it jealousy? 

“So, you’re in love with this Nicholas?” Please God, no. You laughed. 

“No. He’s my brother-in-law. My sister married for love. She didn’t care about a title or money. He made her happy, still does. They are the happiest couple that I know and their boys are extraordinary.” 

“And you want that for yourself,” he surmised. 

“It will most likely never happen for me,” you said with a careless shrug that tore at his heart and left him wondering why he cared so much.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

You certainly weren't going to reveal your privileged background to a complete stranger. It could be dangerous if he turned out to be after your money. He only needs to raise the alert for you to be compromised and obliged to take his hand. You couldn't make it through life in a loveless marriage.

“So, if you wish to marry for love, why don’t you enjoy evenings like this more?” 

You waved your hand lazily in the air. “This? This is all orchestrated. People come here looking for the right connection, the right amount of money, and the best gossip. No one comes here looking for love. I knew before I came out that I would never find love at a party. It would just happen…..somehow, somewhere.” 

He took another step forward. “But you came anyway.” 

You looked wistful. “Until the day I marry, I belong to my father and then to my husband. I am considered nothing more than property. If I wish to have certain rights or benefits I must make the man in my life happy first. Then if he is generous I might be allowed to follow my own pursuits.” 

Of course that would all change with your inheritance. Without a word, he moved to sit next to you on the padded bench. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“Sounds unfair, but I don’t understand what type of pursuits a woman could have that a man would not allow. Surely your father would encourage you to embroider, watercolour, and play the piano.” 

“I’m afraid that you would find me quite unusual then.” 

“Try me.” He tilted his head to the side to watch you as you blew out a deep breath. 

“If I don’t smile, look pretty, attend the right function, accept the attention of the right gentlemen, my father will rule my life with an iron fist. Embroidery is not a hobby of mine. It seems like a better use of my sewing skills to make something warm for people rather than something just for looks, thus I prefer to make quilts. And yet, despite being forbidden to, I find pleasure in the kitchen. Society dictates that no woman should ever enjoy that. We’re meant to like ordering other people to do that for us.” you said with a conspiratorial smile that he found utterly adorable. 

“But not you,” he murmured, smiling. “I bet you make delicious biscuits,” he teased.

You grinned devilishly. “My brother-in-law and nephews swear by them.” 

He took another look at your slender figure. “You don’t look like someone that enjoys cooking.” 

You rolled your eyes in a rather fetching manner. “I like to cook, not to eat.” 

“My apologies.” He couldn’t stop smiling near you. William was sure that he looked foolish, but at the moment he truly didn’t care. 

“So, tell me what other scandalous pursuits do you enjoy? Smuggling? Piracy?” he teased. 

You laughed. “No, I’m not quite that shameful. I enjoy reading, attending the theatre, taking walks, gardening, shooting, and swimming." 

His eyes widened in surprise at that. 

“I enjoy things that my father believes are best suited for men,” you explained with an impish smile.

“I see.” He nodded, surprised by your list of pursuits. For most women, the idea of another woman enjoying such things would be completely revolting. In all honesty, he knew that most men would feel the same way. It had always baffled him because all of those things were worthwhile.

“I’m sure that you do,” you mumbled. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone that. My father would be furious if he found out that I told you. Not that it matters anymore I suppose.” 

“Why doesn’t it matter anymore?” he asked in a soft tone. 

“It just doesn't," you said with a shrug. 

He was willing to leave it alone for the moment, but he desperately needed you to continue talking. “Have you enjoyed being out in society?” 

You nodded. “I’ve enjoyed spending more time with my siblings. It’s been nice being seen as a friend and not just a little sister. They mean the world to me. I’ve enjoyed the theatre, some of the dinners, and even being courted.” you could have sworn he frowned, but it was gone before you could be sure. “All the men that have courted me have turned into dear friends.” 

“But you still don’t like being out in society,” he hedged. 

You turned your head and met his gaze. Your faces were less than a foot apart. William fought the urge to lower his gaze to your lips. 

“Do you?” 

“No, I don’t. I don’t like the deceptions. I hate gossip. I don’t like being pursued for my position or money. I hate having women trying to trap me into marriage. I despise the game that I’m expected to play. I don’t want a simpering woman to bow to my every whim. It’s ridiculous.” 

You nodded in agreement as you looked away. “Yes, it is.” 

After a few moments of surprisingly comfortable silence he spoke. “May I ask why you’re here playing along if you don’t want to marry?” 

When you looked back at him his eyes dropped to your lips, your full, deliciously pink lips. He raised his gaze back quickly before he did something that he would regret. 

“A bargain, I suppose,” you said simply. 

“A bargain? Are they trying to force you into marriage? Is your family in need of money?” Another thought occurred to him, one that made his stomach twist in dread. “You weren’t caught…er…” 

Please don’t let her be carrying another man’s child. 

You lightly swatted his shoulder and laughed. “No! Goodness no. The men my parents are pushing my way are tiresome men like Johann Smithfield.”

William nearly choked on air.

Your smile disappeared, instantly replaced with a worried frown. “Oh no, he’s a friend of yours and I’ve just insulted him,” you said, sounding truly upset.

He threw his head back and laughed. “Smithfield, a friend? No! The man shows off every minute of the day. I couldn’t imagine a fate worse than spending an hour in that man’s company.”

“Thanks. Your words have been really comforting,” you said dryly, earning another chuckle from him. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d felt so relaxed in another person’s company. He normally kept his guard up, refusing to allow anyone to get the better of him.

You sighed heavily. “I’m afraid my parents aren’t happy with my state of life. I’m twenty-three and while they feel that I should be married by now, I don’t. I’ve turned down every suitor who’s asked for my hand. They’re afraid they’ll end up with another spinster on their hands.” They also didn’t want your inheritance left in your control, but there was no need to tell him that.

“How many men have asked for you?” he asked. He knew that it wasn’t proper to ask, but he somehow knew that you wouldn’t mind. You didn’t seem the type. You seemed honest and forthright. It was a welcome change.

Your face scrunched up delightfully. “Fifty-five.”

“Fifty-five men have asked for your hand and you’re only twenty-three? Good lord!” 

You shrugged indifferently. “I’m easy to get along with.”

He liked that. He appreciated that you didn't mention your stunning good looks or the possibility of a dowry (even though he knew that at least some of the suitors were interested in either). You would be a highly sought after prize if you had a substantial dowry to go along with your stunning good looks.

“I believe it.”

Your hand found his. You gave it a small squeeze before releasing it. “I’m sorry. You came out here looking for some solitude.” you flicked your hand casually in the air. “I’ll leave you.” you reached down at your other side and picked up a small book with a well-worn leather cover.

“What are you reading?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation flowing, he didn't want you to leave. It hadn’t escaped his notice that you’d brought a book to an event  “You sneak off a lot, don’t you?”

You gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m afraid that I do have a tendency of making myself scarce.”

He noticed the invite card on your wrist. It was full, which didn't surprise him.

“And the book?” 

You held it up and shrugged. “It’s one of my favourite plays. It helps me relax. I had a feeling that I would need it tonight by the way that my mother was behaving.” 

He couldn’t quite make out the words from the worn cover. “Which play?” 

Your whole face lit up. You obviously took great joy from your book. “'As You Like It’ by Shakespeare. It’s my absolute favourite,” you said dreamily. 

William groaned. “I’m going to have to kiss you now.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

You didn’t have a chance to respond before his lips were touching yours. You were taken aback by the tender touch as he gently caressed your lips with his own, which prevented you from forming any words. Your hands went straight to his chest without any conscious thought. You were prepared to shove him away so that you could leave before someone found you and then were forced into a marriage that you didn’t want when something occurred to you.

What if this was your one and only opportunity to find out what it was like to be with a man, especially one who you really desired? You didn't want to go through life full of things you wished you'd done differently. You didn't want to look back on your life and wonder what you'd be missing out on if you hadn't tied the knot since you knew that's what your future held. You made the decision right at that moment that if you were destined to spend the rest of your life as a bachelorette, then you were going to savour this moment with...whatever his name was and give in to the overpowering attraction that you felt for him. After a moment, you allowed yourself to relax and to enjoy his kisses and the sensations that were teasing and tormenting your body as you lost yourself to his touch.

He brushed his lips over yours once, twice and once again. Your mouth was soft and sweet, but it wasn’t enough. He ran the tip of his tongue over your bottom lip. You gasped in surprise, opening your mouth ever so slightly, but it was enough for him. He tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss.

You didn’t know what to think when his lips moved against yours except that somehow for some reason it felt right, perfect. His kisses weren’t frantic or sloppy. They were sweet. When he teasingly slid his tongue inside your mouth you were too stunned at first to react to the invasion. Then slowly you began to melt in his arms. Your hands slid up his chest, enjoying the feel of hard muscle beneath his coat until they found his shoulders.

He groaned as he pulled you against him, enjoying himself until his damn conscience nagged at him. As wonderful as it felt to kiss you, he knew by the unpracticed strokes of your tongue and lips that you were innocent. He pulled back and looked into your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t end this. This had to be your choice, because he sure as hell wasn’t about to stop this if he had a choice in the matter.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You watched each other, panting slightly as you waited for the other to put a halt to this insanity. Slowly, he moved in, giving you a chance to stop this even as he prayed that you wouldn't. When his mouth touched yours again it was anything but timid. This kiss was hot, wild, and possessive. Words were beyond them. William pulled you closer until your breasts were pressed more firmly against his chest.

You ran your fingers through his hair, enjoying the soft feel of it. He moved his mouth away from yours, nibbling on your ear and neck. He slipped his fingers beneath the top of your gown and slowly pulled down the material, taking your shift down as well until your breasts were bare to him.

Still neither spoke.

He ran his tongue from your neck down to your breasts, leaving a wet trail behind that had your toes curling. You moaned as you ran your hands down his back, encouraging him to continue when you should be pushing him away and running as fast as your legs could carry you back to the safety of the event. He ran his tongue in a circular motion around one taut nipple before he pulled the hard pebble into his mouth, effectively killing any thoughts you might have had of ending this.

He reached up and cupped your other breast. He weighed it in his hand, squeezed it, and ran his thumb around the firm nipple. He held the breast up for his mouth and, after one last lick of the nipple he’d been worshipping, his mouth greedily accepted the offering. He licked and sucked the large breast until you were moaning louder and digging your fingers into his shoulders, desperate for more.

You thought you were going to die from the pleasure he was giving you. It felt incredible. Better than you’d ever imagined, but something was missing. After a moment you realised what that something was. You needed to touch him, too. Deciding that you weren't going to wait for an invitation, you worked his shirt off, desperate for the contact.

He was surprised when he felt your hands working the buttons of his coat, but immensely pleased nonetheless. Releasing your breasts, he pulled his cravat off and shrugged off his outer garments, leaving only his shirt until that too was gone.

You reached out with trembling hands and ran your fingers down his chest, enjoying the feel of his warm smooth skin over hard muscle. You ran your fingers tentatively over one flat nipple, making him groan. Your hands moved down to trace the muscles that made up his flat stomach. He groaned again, but didn’t say or do anything to stop you.

You wanted to keep touching him, but your arms were effectively pinned to your sides by your dress, limiting your movements. You worried your bottom lip nervously as you pulled your arms out and pushed the dress and shifted down around your waist. You watched as he ran hungry eyes over you. His response gave you the courage to continue. Pushing aside your nervousness, you leaned in and kissed him. William grabbed your waist and held you firmly as both of you kissed almost desperately.

Never breaking the kiss, he helped you to your feet until both of you were standing. He reached behind you and undid the buttons of your dishevelled dress. He slowly pushed it down and waited patiently until you stepped out of your dress, leaving you naked except for your stockings and slippers. Only one person had seen you naked before and that had been your maid. You should be embarrassed, but oddly enough with him you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. You felt beautiful, wanted and cherished.

You watched as he kneeled down in front of you. He gently rolled your stockings down, taking your slippers off in the process. He pressed hot kisses to your skin as he made his way back up to your mouth. You pulled him into your arms and kissed him hungrily, unable to get enough of him.

His hands roamed over your body, touching your arms, breasts, stomach, back, bottom and legs. Every touch made your stomach tighten and the area between your legs ache. You wanted more, but didn’t know what.

William seemed to know. He moved his mouth to your neck and suckled your skin on the way back to your breasts. Once he found your nipple, his hand worked its way between your legs. He cupped you and ran his fingers through slick folds. You moaned loudly, unable to help yourself.

When he slipped a finger inside you, he found you hot, wet, and ready. He groaned and moved his mouth back to yours while he worked a finger in and out of you. Soon you were moving against his finger, your body desperate for release. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t even think of anything beyond getting inside you.

His other hand worked frantically at his pants. With a groan, he broke off the kiss and removed his hand from the honeyed heaven he couldn't wait to explore. He reached down, pushed his pants down and pulled his boots off until he was naked as well.

His lips quickly made their way back to yours. It was a desperate need that he couldn’t deny. He gasped and then moaned loudly into your mouth when he felt your fingers run curiously over his erection. Never in a million years had he thought that you would be this passionate, hadn’t known that it was possible.

He reached between you and gently wrapped your hand around his length and moved it, showing you what he liked. You did it, making him pant and groan. He slid his hand back between your legs, sliding a second finger inside you until you were moaning and crying softly into his mouth. They stood there for several minutes as pleasure soared through their bodies.

It was too much for any sane man to take. He pulled his hand away and pushed you gently onto the long cushioned bench with his body brushing your hand away. He kissed you deeply as he positioned himself. Part of him was aware that he was very likely about to take your virginity, but he didn’t care. You weren't saying anything and neither was he. Both of you were too far-gone at the moment to care about rules, propriety or the consequences that were most likely going to tear your lives apart.

William aimed himself and pushed in, unable to wait any longer. He heard your gasp of pain and kissed you deeply, trying to distract you. The tip of his shaft came in contact with the proof of your innocence. When you didn't protest, scream, or demand that he get off you, he pulled back and thrust in until he was buried deep inside of you.

Somehow he was able to hold back when everything in him demanded that he move. One look at your beautiful face and he was knocked on his ass. You were heartbreakingly beautiful as you tried to give him a reassuring smile even as tears trailed down your face. He pressed tender kisses to your cheeks, kissing away your tears, wanting to reassure you that he would take care of you.

He moved his mouth back to yours and he kissed you slowly, trying to show you how much being with you meant to him. He’d never felt so much for another person in his entire life and for someone he didn’t know it surprised him. He never allowed anyone to get close to him, and didn't trust anyone. He couldn't understand how you consumed his every wish and desire. He wanted to hold you all night and keep you safe from harm, something that he’d never wanted to do with another woman.

Soon, you grew accustomed to the invasion and began to wiggle beneath him, testing his control. He slowly rolled his hips making sure that you were truly ready for him. He could feel your mouth curve into a smile beneath his and that’s when he realised that he was smiling as well, making him chuckle. For the first time in a long time, he felt carefree. He kissed you deeply as he slowly thrust inside you, enjoying the feel of wet silken walls caressing his cock.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to hold him inside you. William cupped your breast, gently squeezing it as his thumb ran over your hard nipple. Moans, crackles of the fire, and the sounds of bodies gently slapping against each other echoed throughout the dimly lit orangery.

William could feel your body tighten like a vice around him. He groaned as he moved harder and faster, making you cry out in pleasure. Your fingernails dug into his back, but he didn’t care. He opened his eyes and watched as your world exploded. He needed you to find your release before he could pull out. He was determined to make this good for you. Your body began squeezing ruthlessly around his length. As good as it felt to have you grip his cock like this, it felt even better knowing that he’d been the one to give you this pleasure. Hell, he wanted to laugh and scream for joy that this beautiful minx found her moment with him. His minx.

The reality of the moment hit him hard. You were still squeezing him and moaning. Your mouth found his neck and kissed it greedily, sucking and licking and driving him out of his goddamn mind. He couldn’t hold back. He desperately needed to pull out. It was getting too close. Just one more thrust he told himself, just one more.

As his release rushed up on him, he gasped, trying to find the strength to pull out of you. Just as he somehow found the willpower to pull out you began squeezing him again, completely shattering his resistance. His head dropped back and he bit back a roar of pleasure as he found his own release. It was the most intense moment of his life. He continued to move until he was sure that you were done. When he felt your walls squeeze gently around him one last time, he fell on you, lazily kissing your neck, chin and mouth. Still neither of you spoke.

William was too weak to speak. It was the oddest way to take a woman’s virginity, without any spoken words of promise or explanation. He’d always been a gentle lover, taking a woman slowly to prolong his release. He'd never even taxed himself before. Right now his body was exhausted and soaked. This was the most intense sexual experience of his life and he didn’t even know your name.

Not that he ever made love to an innocent before, but surely something should have been said. Names should have been exchanged at the very least. It was without question the most passionate night of his life. He’d never been so moved by lust or need before to make him this desperate to make love to a woman.

He pulled back to look at you, expecting you to cry, scream or hit him. He’d been a cad taking your innocence. But instead of doing what he’d expected, what he deserved, you smiled sweetly up at him and pressed a tender kiss to his mouth. William turned the kiss into a slow, deep display of appreciation, passion and need. He was still inside of you and surprised to discover that he was hardening again. He wanted you once more, desperately, but he couldn’t do that to you.

He took a steadying breath and slowly began to pull out, however, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and trapped him. He raised an eyebrow in question. Then you spoke for the first time since you'd started. “Can we do it again?” you asked shyly.

Will could only chuckle. He leaned down and kissed you. “Yes, minx, we can do it again.” He punctuated every word with a slow thrust of his hardening shaft, "In one condition. . ." He paused his hips from grinding against you.

"What is it?" You whispered breathlessly.

"Let me paint an intimate portrait of you. You'd make a perfect model." Will whispers his condition against your ear, causing electricity to shoot down your spine. 

You placed your palms over his chest and pushed him away, "And be showcased in exhibits like this for the world to see? Forget it." 

"I didn't say anything about showing it to the world, my lady. It's intimate, it's private. It's only for my eyes to admire." Will lowered his head, his lips grazing yours as he spoke these bold statements. 

A broad smile curved in your lips, "I like you." 

He took you slowly this time, enjoying every single thrust inside your body. You were passionate, very passionate. You weren't content with lying there while he bedded you. You kissed his mouth, chin, and neck greedily while your hands ran through his hair, down his back, and finally cupped his ass. He could swear that you moaned with pleasure just from touching him.

He broke the kiss and pulled back just far enough away so that he could watch your face. You smiled shyly at him. You were so damn beautiful. He slowed his rhythm and made his thrusts shallower, stressing each movement. You licked your lips hungrily.

“You like that, don’t you, minx?” 

“Y-yes, please don’t stop.” 

He shook his head. “Never.”

He gently took your hands and held them above your head, entwining your fingers as he made love to you. The gesture made what you were doing feel more intense. Soon you were throwing your head back and whimpering.

William took your mouth, kissing you deeply as he quickened his thrusts inside you. You gripped his hands tightly. He felt your body tighten around him once again. There was no point in pulling out now. The damage was already done. You exploded at the same moment. William didn’t bother trying to hide his pleasure this time. Both of you were too far away from the loud exhibit for anyone to hear you both. Even if they weren’t, there was no way to stop him now.

“Oh God!” he roared.

He collapsed on top of you, sweaty and sated. He didn’t know many women who appreciated a sweaty man on top of them, so he moved to roll off you when your small warm arms wrapped around his shoulders.

His minx pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. You pulled him closer while you ran your hands over his damp back in a soothing motion. He kissed your cheek and was surprised when you sighed with pleasure. He couldn’t help but wonder how women could be so completely different.

You moved your head back so that you could look into his eyes. “Thank you for tonight. I’ll always remember it.” you looked and sounded so grateful. He couldn’t imagine what he'd done for you besides take your innocence without asking. He shouldn’t be thanked. He should be shot.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Minx,-”

“Shhh,” you pressed a finger to his mouth. “I don’t want you to feel guilty about this. It was perfect. This will always be the most passionate night of my life and I will always treasure it. Please don’t be mad. I’m not.”

“Minx,” he began again, “you should be mad…what we did….what I did was inexcusable. I-“ 

“No, no words, no apologies. Just let it remain this perfect moment between two strangers who found comfort with each other.”

Comfort? It was a hell of lot more than comfort. It was intense, indescribable, and possibly the stupidest thing he’d ever done. He’d just got himself leg shackled to this beautiful stranger.

After a long pause, he reluctantly nodded. There was no sense in arguing with you. He would never force a woman to do anything that you didn’t want to do. He certainly wasn’t about to thank this woman for the most wonderful night of his life by robbing you of your freedom without justification.

“How’s my hair?” you asked after both of you were finished redressing yourselves. 

The smile took on a different meaning as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Perfect.”

“Also, here,” he said suddenly as he searched his pockets. He pulled out a small pencil stub and a small piece of parchment from his jacket pocket and wrote his name and address on it.

With a chuckle, you took the folded piece of parchment and placed it in you reticule. “Happy?”

He smiled. “Extremely.”

“Shall I go first and make my excuses to leave?”

He respectively nodded. “Thank you for a most wonderful evening, minx.” 

“The pleasure was mine, sir,” you said, smiling shyly as you turned away and headed for the door.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

You had to force a pleasant smile and a deliberate stride through the crowded halls, even if all you wanted to do was get away from everyone and find a quiet place to help your pounding heart. As you made your way to an office, you avoided the many unwelcome suitors and, more crucially, your mother by blending in with the crowd. With no second thoughts, you slammed the door shut and locked it, then sank to the floor.

It only took a few seconds for reality to sink in. A sensation of your heart pounding in your chest was present. You just lost your virginity at a party to some random bloke you didn't know. While it was an amazing experience, you couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if someone had found both of you or if he had been a fortune hunter. You could at this very moment be forced to announce your engagement to a man that you didn't know.

Your entire future could have been ruined in a matter of minutes all because you allowed yourself to be carried away in a moment of weakness. You'd been so foolish and so incredibly lucky.

How could you have done something so irrational? You had a plan for your life and it most certainly didn’t involve making love to a man you didn't know in a well-lit orangery where anyone could have stumbled upon you. In a matter of months you were going to turn twenty-four and gain control over your inheritance. Then you would move to your north estate where you would live out the rest of your life away from the nonsense of this town.

You'd been such a foolish woman tonight allowing yourself to be swept away by a deep alluring voice, good looks, beautiful eyes and an overwhelming need to do the wrong thing. You'd been helpless to deny him. When his lips had touched yours, it felt like a fire had been lit in your body and you couldn't seem to get enough of him. Your cheeks burned with humiliation. What he must think of you!

A rather disturbing thought occurred to you. What if you ran into each other at another event or a party? Would he expect a repeat of tonight? Would you allow it? It scared you how quickly you were able to answer that question.

Yes, you would. If you were given another opportunity to be in his arms, you would not hesitate even for a minute. You'd risk everything for another moment with him. Knowing how weak you were when it came to the handsome stranger and what was at risk, you decided there was only one course of action left for you. You had to leave Arkham sooner than you'd originally planned.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ 

“There you are!” One of his professors, Mr. Dixon said brightly, too damn brightly.

William glanced around the large crowded space, hoping to find his minx. True to your word you had left. Now he was left at this dreadful event with memories of you. He could simply ask around about you, but then that would put them in an awkward position. People would want to know why he was interested and tongues would wag. 

"Where have you been, boy? Dr. Reid is waiting to see you. Need I remind you that you're the winner of the student art prize?"

"No need, Sir." Will supplied a subtle impatient sigh.

Dixon releases a small grunt and straightens Will's collar and tie, "There, much better. Come along. You wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

No one in this place would suspect that Dixon had William's arm in a death grip that would no doubt leave a large bruise. Not that Will minded. He would have other marks on his body from his minx. He barely stopped himself from grinning like an idiot. You truly were wonderful, he thought just before he spotted Dr. Reid and a few other committee members standing in front of his artworks, making his smile disappear instantly out of nervousness.

“You must be William Thurber,” Dr. Reid said with a warm smile as he reached out and took Will's hand firmly into his own. The man was graying, but still an impressive sight.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Reid,” Will smiled and out of the corner of his eye he saw who he assumed was Dr. Reid's wife whisper something into a young man's ear. The young man shot his mother an annoyed look and walked away, clearly displeased with whatever his mother said.

“I must say that you are one talented artist, my boy. The way you capture beauty in your artwork is truly. . . Captivating. Congratulations.” Dr. Reid said with a warm smile that was nothing like the fake smile his wife currently had plastered to her face.

“Thank you very much,” Will said. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dr. Reid and his wife part. A second later a young woman was practically shoved between them. He saw Joe gasp and his eyes widened. Mr. Dixon looked very pleased, as did his other classmates. 

William turned around to see what they were looking at and smiled. His minx. 

“Mr. Dixon, William, Joe, I believe none of you have met my youngest daughter, (Y/N)?” Dr. Reid said proudly. 

William felt his blood drain away from his head. Oh, hell.

[thehothcast]

cassian andor general romance hcs

word count: 994

warnings: none, just a miniscule reference to sex

message from the authors: first post on the account! love that for us. we both (okay just me, fine - grace) went a little feral writing these, enjoy the show! (i was moral support for grace and additional idea giver, hope u love! - rosa)

ok so! i think cass is very easily scared off when it comes to this kind of thing: love. he’s skittish when he’s unsure, and although romantic dalliances aren’t new to him, approaching a situation where he’s not privy to if you reciprocate or even if you ever could, is new to him. he’s always been the one in control of the dynamic, or at the very least an equal, with both participants on the same page (or thereabouts, see him and bix i suppose.)

the man seems a lil avoidant, like he’s just wary of people in general so i'm not so sure how well he’d respond to hearing from a third party that you had a crush on him, whether that be a close friend of yours or an unfamiliar group of fellow rebels. he’d immediately feel like expectations were being pushed onto him and people were anticipating him to react in a certain way. he doesn’t like that, it feels like someone's yanked open the curtains that were obscuring him from the bright light of perception? so even though he returns your feelings for sure, he’s not going to react well to that kind of direct address/situation and would most likely pull away from you in an attempt to take back the control he feels he’s lost.

in the end i think if one of you were to make a move to further the relationship, it would have to be him because he doesn’t like feeling caught off guard or put on the spot. even then, he’s definitely not confessing the true extent of his fondness for you (even though it totally consumes him, this is a man that feels deeply, just look at those eyes babe). 

cassian is someone who expresses their love through actions and deeds, not so much words, at least not immediately, that’s a little too vulnerable for him at the moment.

let's be honest, his version of getting the message across to you is patting you on the shoulder and telling you “that’s really good” as he oversees your group’s blaster training. like the affection is there and you totally get free passes where others don’t, but overall there’s really nothing concrete to suggest he thinks of you as anything other than a friendly comrade, which is probably how he likes it for now.

again, addressing it head on either by yourself or having another person plant the notion into his mind is not the way to go about this. he’s like a stray animal, you see him from across the street and desperately want to pull him close and love up on him, but even the most careful approach will have him skirting away from you in a flash after one wrong move.

honestly the only way to go about this i think is to just let him do his own thing, find a quiet and subtle way let him know you’re open and will be waiting with open arms, and he’ll come to you eventually. i’d say he’d come to you in his own time, and I wouldn't be lying but let's be honest, that first really meaningful look (see elevator scene in rogue one 😩) and pleading of your name is going to come in a moment of high-stakes and danger. what can I say, there's nothing like a life threatening situation in which either one or both of your lives are in jeopardy and desperation and stress infect every decision made, to provoke a momentary lapse in resolve and allow some painfully concealed concern and devotion to seep out of one's every orifice <3.

then there’s the subject of his name. obviously he introduces himself as cassian (unless he’s undercover but that’s a whole other can of worms, you’d get there in the end), so you’ve not really any reason to suspect otherwise until you pose an innocent question about the origins of his name, which leads him to hesitantly surrender his birth name to you. this is only something he’d ever consider doing if he truly, deeply trusted you and felt ready to open up even just a little bit. again, it’s all in his own time, there’s no pushing cassian. psst, don’t be afraid of using his real name, he’ll answer to it…just pick the right moments iykyk

when on missions, clashes tend to happen. cassian believes he knows best (and maybe he does. he probably does lets be fr we’re dumbos), so you’ll every now and again notice him speaking for you or making decisions on your behalf. obviously as an independent entity, this will most likely get on your nerves so it’s an issue that’ll have to be addressed in a sit down session with him. he honestly doesn’t mean it in a controlling way, he probably sees it as him relieving you of any unnecessary burdens, so you’ll have to make it clear to him you’d appreciate it if he lets you stand on your own 2 feet and would, well… for a lack of a better phrase, ‘just butt out’. at the end of the day, you’d rather be equals, partners in crime, not so much some micromanaged talent. come on, it’s understandable cass.

just for funsies... he’s probably unbuttoned his shirt a little more than necessary at least once. just to see if you’d respond to it. he’d seen the style begin to take off amongst the more cocksure pilots (that’s what he tried to tell himself. it was really just fueled by a shy desire to have you look at him like that, like the rebel full of swagger that he knows he isn't). it lasted a grand total of 12 hours before he caught a glimpse of his reflection and cringed a little bit, vanity be damned. the next time you saw him, his shirt was buttoned back up all the way again and he will never acknowledge the fact ever again. 

[lyledebeast]

Sex and The Patriot Canon

For having inspired so many sexy fanfics, The Patriot is a deeply unsexy film in most respects. The only characters who canonically fuck are the parents of the children sacrificed to "the cause." Sex is extremely utilitarian in this film; any romance scene in which one of the participants sighs and says "very well" in a tone of abject resignation is going nowhere very steamy fast.

This has been an inspiration rather than an obstacle to the numerous fanfic writers for whom Colonel Tavington not fucking is unconscionable. But it's been interesting to see how often complaints about Tavington's characterization in fic comes from people who write or prefer to read stories where he has sex, often involving hard kinks, with women. I read these complaints and have to wonder, what character do they think he's out of? The film's Tavington does not so much as look at or speak to a single woman in the whole run time. The Patriot is an extremely male-centric story, but it is not set at sea. Tavington has access to women; he just doesn't appear to have any interest in them.

The only time we see him in the same frame as a woman is right after the militia blows up a ship a few yards away from Middleton Place, and both he and the women in front of him are preoccupied with that! In contrast, we do see both of Tavington's captains, Bordon and Wilkins, chatting with women at the same party and seeming to enjoy themselves. But, as we see in other scenes, Tavington is a bit awkward with even his male peers in celebratory settings. How is his conduct different with Patriot women?

It isn't. He addresses a crowd that includes women, but when Anne Howard shouts at him he does not even acknowledge her presence. The people he tortures for information are both men, at least one is a deserter from the militia. It would have been very easy to include a scene of Tavington sexually menacing a militiaman's wife--he and his men burn eight of their houses--but we don't see that. When Wilkins tells him Ben Martin would send his children to stay with his sister-in-law, Tavington has zero curiosity about this woman. Every time the opportunity for Tavington to interact with a Patriot woman presents itself, he interacts with a man or boy instead.

A fic in which Tavington has sex with a woman, brutally or otherwise, is already making a pretty significant departure from canon regardless of what else is going on. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that! Most fic is canon-divergent in one way or another. If a fic is going to just regurgitate canon in different words, what is the point? But an interpretation of a character in fanfic doesn't become a standard for how authentic that character is in other fics just because it is popular. Maybe those who voice these complaints have something other than Tavington's sexuality in mind, like his voice or his personality: things that could remain canon-complaint even as he does any number of things he doesn't get to do in his far too brief screentime. But for someone who clearly enjoys one kind of canon-divergence to describe other divergences as "out of character" seems a little hypocritical, or at least lacking in self-awareness.

[justgottafinishthischapter]

Writing Worlds: Homosexuality in Historical Settings

As someone who loves period romances and craves romantic relationships between queer men, it’s very alluring to write queer romances set against the backdrop of historical settings and time periods. But, due to the treatment of homosexuality for a lot of our world’s history, it can make it tricky to know the best way to handle this topic. Consider this to be a sister post to go along with my Writing Romance: Courting post. The two go hand-in-hand.

ESCAPISM VS REALISM

The first hurdle is to decide whether your story is an escapist fantasy or favors realism. In an escapist historical queer romance, the queerness is simply not an issue. The prince can flat out tell his parents to arrange his marriage to male suitors, and the only real reaction is his mother immediately listing off good matches for him. The conflict has nothing to do with the fact that the relationship is between two same-sex characters, and would work just as well for a heterosexual romance story. With an escapist fantasy, you can show the Count of Yorkshire navigating the hardships of courting by having multiple young men vying for his hand, or the whirlwind romance as he catches the eye of the Duke of Orleans. And this romance can be just as open and public as any straight relationship. This option would fall under Historical Romanticism, the term used for when historical settings are made to be more idyllic and favorable than they likely were in real life. The only media where this approach tends to show up often is Fantasy, in worlds where homophobia simply never really existed. The Elder Scrolls is one such setting where male gods are married to one another, other gods change genders and pronouns as they like, and your player character is free to romance anyone of any gender as well as adopt without anyone making biggotted remarks.

On the other hand, Realism in a Historical Queer Romance is going to come prepackaged with a lot of tension and angst, as it’s automatically a forbidden romance. Because homophobia is a real issue that real queer people deal with, having queer characters deal with these issues can help your queer audience feel seen as these fictional characters can relate to their own life experiences. It’s also just more historically accurate to have queer lovers needing to tiptoe around behind people’s backs and hoping they don’t get caught. However, due to this prejudice, it’s also very easy for such settings and stories to come off as depressing, and can perpetuate unpleasant tropes in queer media, such as Bury Your Gays, Unhappily Ever After, and downer Nomance endings. Because their relationship isn’t “appropriate” for public eyes, it makes it hard for the couple to have a truly happy ending. For someone who’s tired of dealing with homophobia in their own life, or it just being present in almost all queer media, it can be tedious for those who want an escape to enjoy two guys smooching while looking dapper in period costumes.

Homosexuality and Religion

As a medieval historian, I actually did a full research paper on homosexuality in the middle ages as a part of my final for one of my medieval history classes. I still have the paper saved, so let me share an abridged version. Pagan cultures might have had some issues with homosexuality, such as the Norse favoring the “tops” over the “bottoms”, a sentiment shared by both the Greeks and Romans. However compared to later eras of history, these Pre-Christian cultures had little problems with same-sex relationships. Every Greek God but Ares, Hephaestus, and Hades had at least 1 male lover, Emperor Hadrian had his boy-toy Antinous deified after he drowned in the Nile, and the Sacred Band of Thebes was made up entirely of same-sex lovers. The idea that homosexuality was wrong only emerged with Christianity. Just... not as soon as you’d think. Christianity became a wide-spread faith across Europe around about 300 AD, mostly spread by Constantine’s deathbed conversion to Christianity. However, it would not be until the 12th century that homosexuality as a sin would emerge. This shift first started during what is known as the Medieval Renaissance when Christian theologians like St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, and St. Jerome altered the theological discourse on sin and virtue. Prior to the Medieval Renaissance, the mindset was that simply being Christian and accepting Christ as one’s savior was all it took to get into Heaven. After the Medieval Renaissance, the focus shifted to individual sin and the worthiness of the individual soul. They came to view Earth as sort of a testing grounds or waiting room, and any temporary Earthly pleasure was a wicked temptation sent by Satan to lead men astray. How you did on the test impacted whether you passed or failed. One thing that was declared a sin was fornication without the prospect of procreation. And this went for everyone. Any sexual act that would not result in childbirth was a sin, because you were doing it for the pleasure, not for the purposes of making a baby. Furthermore, any position except Missionary was also sinful, again in an attempt to limit pleasure. Since cis-gendered homosexuals cannot procreate, any homosexual acts were universally labeled as a sin by happenstance. Later in 1179, Peter Comestor proposed to the Third Lateran Council a link between the biblical condemnation of sodomy with explicitly condemning homosexuals, and not just anal fornication as a whole, even stating that clerks found guilty of this act should be removed from office, and laymen should be excommunicated from the church. It is Peter Comestor and his stance on homosexuality that truly caused homosexuality to be labeled as a sin on principal, and is why so many modern Christians still believe homosexual relationships are sinful by nature. However, it’s worth pointing out that the time from when Christianity was a widespread faith in Europe (approx. 300 AD) to the Third Lateran Council (1179) is a span of 879 years. As of this point in 2023, the time between Comestor’s condemnation of homosexuality and the present is only 844 years. Meaning that Christianity has a longer history of tolerating homosexuality than it has condemning it. I say all of this because in any setting where Christianity is not a part of the worldbuilding, there is no reason to have homophobia, unless you replace Christianity with a similarly homophobic fictional religion, as George RR Martin does with the Faith of the Seven in A Song of Ice and Fire. As for Judaism and Islam, I’m at a loss there. My studies didn’t really lead me to those topics, and I can’t offer much insight there.

Handwaving Escapist Diversity

Let’s be real, we can’t even cast People of Color in fantasy stories without racists crapping their pants, so unfortunately, we’re going to face similar problems having queer couples openly courting each other in a historical setting. But, there are a few ways around this where we can have our cake and eat it too without the homophobes being able to hide behind “historic accuracy” as a reason to have a problem with queer romances in historical periods. It’s all about the genre. Let’s look at some of the genres we can use.

Historical Fiction: This is the base form. Any period piece is going to be historical fiction. However, Historical Fiction comes in a wide array. Historical Romanticism is the lighter approach, simply putting make-up on the era to make it more palatable and appealing. Think of Bridgerton where the dresses are shaped historically and the characters behave historically, but the Queen is a woman of color, and the dress materials are far more colorful and bright than they would have been at the time. It’s still the Regency era, just with a bit of rouge. On the other hand, there’s Alternate History. Historical settings where a major deviation has occurred in the timeline. Whether the Roman Empire never fell, the British crushed the American Revolution and took over the entire world, Christianity never caught on and the Roman Pantheon is the most widespread belief system, or the industrial revolution exploded even harder, resulting in a more Steampunk vibe. A major upheaval has altered the face of history, and your queer romance is set in an utterly changed world with a different timeline.

Steampunk: As I just touched on, your world can be more technologically advanced, however, Steampunk can also be a genre for completely fictional worlds, giving you a great way to have a story set in an era with an 1880s - 1910s aesthetic, but easily exist as it own world with its own history and values where homosexual relationships aren’t a problem. Steampunk is also the most optimistic and aesthetically oriented of the science-fiction -Punk genres, compared to the much bleaker and more cynical outlooks of Cyberpunk, Diesel Punk, and Gothic Punk.

Gaslamp Fantasy: Basically, Steampunk but with fantastical elements. It keeps that late Victorian - Edwardian aesthetic, but adds magic, faeries, dragons, vampires, etc. Now, Steampunk leans more Sci-fi, while Gaslamp Fantasy is more well.... Fantasy, so Gaslamp Fantasy does tend to lose some of the technological aspects of Steampunk, but it can also overlap with Magitech, a subgenre where machinery is powered and propelled by magical energy. So, you can very well have a Steampunk Gaslamp Fantasy where all of the steam and gears and machinery is powered by magic. It’ still Steampunk, so long as that train is powered by shoveling magic energy crystals into the furnace, instead of coal. Howl’s Moving Castle is a good example of how the two can coexist. There are normal trains as we see in Sophie’s town, but we also see Howl’s castle which can move because of Calcipher, a fire demon that needs to constantly eat a fuel source of one kind or another. The world is full of witches, magic, and curses, but there’s also muskets, trains, airplanes, zeppelins, and a castle that spews steam and smoke as it wanders the countryside.  

Paranormal Romance: Especially common with Vampires, but the fallout of Twilight and Alpha/Beta/Omegas in pop culture has also led to a rising interest in Werewolf stories, and a recent trend has also swept Faeries into the pop culture spotlight as well. All three offer stories where one or both of your characters is an immortal (or very long-lived) individual. Perhaps their world is homophobic now, but when they met and fell in love, it was perfectly acceptable. Perhaps being alive for 800 years piqued the main character’s curiosity and they decided to give it a try. The long history of homosexuals being demonized has led to a large percentage of queer people identifying with the monsters and villains of media, causing them to see themselves in the hated monsters, demons, and vampires that threaten the heterosexual heroes of old.

Historical Fantasy: For everything else that’s not within that Victorian-Edwardian window, Historical Fantasy has you covered. From Cyclopes and Sirens in Ancient Greece to Dragons and Goblins in Medieval France, or a mermaid ending up in an Americana freak show, this pretty much covers ever kind of fantasy romance in a historical setting that’s not covered by Paranormal Romance or Gaslamp Fantasy.

Renaissance Punk: It’s like Steampunk, but the world’s technology resembles the contraptions of Leonardo Da Vinci, as opposed to the clockwork, gears, and steam aesthetic plastered onto the turn of the 20th century that Steampunk offers. Also called Da Vinci Punk.

Space Punk: If you’re wanting to lean more Sci-fi, you can do Space Punk. Think Treasure Planet, though I could also call that Sail Punk. It has a very Victorian clothing and technological aesthetic, but then space is full of a breathable Ethereum, and even Doctor Doppler’s “space suit” looks closer to an old-timey diver’s suit. But the ship has solar sails, the mast charges up with a power source that propels the ship into space, lockets project holograms of still photographs, cybernetic prosthetics are technologically advanced, and aliens are a common sight, even for the poorest commoner.

Same-Sex Courting for Escapist Romance

I touched on this in my Writing Romance: Courting post, but I’ll cover it again because it’s especially applicable here. The rules of courting in the 1800s relied heavily on gender roles. So, how does one make sense of courting rules when the couple are the same sex? The basic rule of thumb is that whoever is higher in status is the one to be chased, while the one of lower class does the chasing. If a Duke is looking for a husband, does the Duke chase Viscounts or do Viscounts chase the Duke? Always, the Viscounts chase the Duke. A Duke is a valuable husband, a prize catch those Viscounts would want to have. What if the romance is between two men of equal class? Two Dukes falling in love? The one who would take the more passive role is likely to be whichever is higher in the line of succession. During the courting phase, an elligible queer bachelor is likely to recieve many gentlemen callers. They would come to the bachelor’s house where his family could keep an eye on him, and judge his prospects. They would bring gifts and trinkets, and sit in the tea room, sewing room, drawing room, or whatever room is used to entertain guests. Gentlemen callers would then talk with the bachelor, recite poetry, play the piano, or whatever else they could to impress the bachelor and his family. Again, as I said before, the one being visited by gentlemen callers is whoever is higher up in the chain of nobility. The Duke’s family is going to scrutinize every gentleman who calls on their son, while the Baron’s family is going to urge him to call on every queer man who outranks him. The other thing to keep in mind is inheritance. The first-born son inherits everything, so a second-born son or third-born son will get nothing from his father, or best case scenario, he will get a small fraction of the family fortune from his father or older brother. In order for these younger sons to stay in the lifestyle they were raised in, they will have to marry someone who is coming into his fortune. In a setting where women can inherit her father’s entire estate, a lesbian would function the exact same as a gay man. Ergo, any queer romantic lead who is not inheriting his father’s full estate must seek a first-born son who will inherit his father’s estate. Meanwhile, if your protagonist is a first-born son, he is far more likely to be chased by the younger sons of distinguished families. Finally, when it comes to the social season and courting at dances, queer nobles would likely wear something to distinguish themselves from the heterosexual nobles at the party. Something to let the other guests know their preference in dance partner. That way, gentlemen know not to ask the Baroness of Agincourt to dance, but that the Duke of Orleans is all too eager to receive male attention.

Lavender Marriages in Realist Romances

A lavender marriage is when a queer person marries someone of the opposite sex to disguise their homosexual dalliances, such as Renly Baratheon marrying Margaery Tyrell, or Laenor Valyrian marrying Rhaenyra Targaryen. In these instances, the woman knew her husband was queer and was willing to work with him to keep the secret. However, sometimes the wife wouldn’t know, and the husband was keeping his sexuality a secret from everybody. However, it was usually hard for a noble to keep his dalliances completely hidden from the court, as in both of these cases, both Renly and Laenor were well-known around court to be fanciful of male attention. Everyone typically knows the wedding is a sham, but tend to turn a blind eye to it regardless. I know I’ve been using male examples this whole post, but this does also work with lesbian romances. I believe the term is still lavender marriage with a lesbian, but I could be mistaken.

Actual Homosexuality in Historical Time Periods

Scholars debate the exact nature of their relationship, but in Arthurian Myth, King Galehaut is conquering his way across Arthur’s Kingdom when he challenges Arthur to a duel for the throne of Camelot. However, upon seeing Sir Lancelot, Galehaut offers to concede to Arthur if he’ll introduce him to Lancelot. From then on, Galehaut and Lancelot became Very Close Special Guy Friends, and it’s suspected that the pair might be lovers, or at least that Galehaut is in love with Lancelot.

Leonardo Da Vinci was involved with one of his male models, Pietri Bandielli, who Da Vinci used as a model for Jesus. Which also means, If you pray to the white version of Jesus with the little beard and long brown hair, congratulations! You’re worshiping a gay Italian male model that used to have sex with Leonardo Da Vinci.

Hans Christian Andersen fell in love with the son of his financier, Edvard Collins. But, when Collins became engaged and later married to Henriette Tybjerg, a heartbroken Andersen wrote the story of The Little Mermaid as an allegory for his unrequited love. Collins was the handsome prince who didn’t return the mermaid’s feelings, Henriette was the Temple Girl who stole the mermaid’s love, and Andersen himself was the mermaid, unable to verbalize her true feelings, and suffering great pain just to be near the one she loves.

It’s mostly speculation, but it’s believed that Richard I of England had a clandestine homosexual relationship with Phillip II of France. The majority of evidence comes from one particular courtier’s writings who described them as eating from the same dish and not being separated by their beds at night. However, it’s hard to say if this is evidence of a homosexual relationship, or just the flowery prose writing of the time describing a very close bromance.

Edward II of England had little interest in war. Hoping to toughen up his son, Edward’s father assigned a squire to Edward that excelled in tournaments, Piers Gaveston. However, this backfired spectacularly, as Edward fell in love with Piers. Gaveston flaunted his sway over the king, being so bold as to wear royal purple and the queen’s jewelry during Edward’s coronation. Gaveston was hunted down and beheaded by a group of barons, and Edward himself was killed with a red-hot poker shoved up his backside.

King James I of England was a well-known bisexual, even having a secret passageway linking his bedchambers with that of George Villiers. James’ male lovers experienced royal favoritism and protection, as James absolved one male lover for poisoning a political rival, and twice protecting Villiers from impeachment for incompetency. Following James’ death, Villiers was struck through by a sword.

Anne Lister was a noblewoman who often dressed in masculine clothing and kept a coded diary which recounted her many and varied lesbian affairs over her lifetime. Lister even earned the nickname Gentleman Jack, and is often regarded as the First Modern Lesbian.

Pirate ships were one of the few places where gay marriage was legitimate. Pirate captains could perform marriage ceremonies, and marriages between male crewmates was not uncommon, even having rules about sharing property and distrubution of goods among crew members with a married couple on-board. As well as the distribution of property following the death of a same-sex spouse.

While we know that brothels and prostitution has existed since Ancient Greece, in the 1700s, it was possible to find a Molly House. A house which featured male prostitutes who catered to male clients.

Women were not believed to have sex drives, so when two women loved each other, they were often called “bosom buddies”, and two women living together without a man in the house was called a Boston Marriage.

In the medieval era, it was believed that a woman’s womb was naturally cold and had to be kept warm with regular activity. If the woman was unmarried, the womb was to be kept warm by hand. But since using her own hands would be sinful, it often fell to the woman’s female servants to do the deed.

Men and women often existed in entirely disconnected social spheres. For a man, he would go to work where he would only work with men, after work he would go to a local bar or club that was exclusively for gentlemen, and following dinner, he would often retire to a private room in his home or another man’s home to sit, smoke, and talk with his male colleagues. Even within a single house, men would retire to the gentlemen’s lounge to smoke, while women would depart to the sewing room, tea room, or drawing room to have afternoon tea with the other ladies. As men would spend their entire days solely in the company of men, and the same for women, many men and women only spent time together in public spaces, during meals, and when going to bed. Even then, it was not uncommon to see households where the man and woman had separate bedchambers, and the woman would only sleep in the man’s bedroom when he desired sexual congress. Even the Palace of Versailles had separate chambers for the king and queen. This gave queer couples plenty of time to sneak around without anyone being the wiser.

This to Keep in Mind

One of the biggest issues behind the AIDS epidemic was the promiscuous nature of gay lovers in the 1970s. Because gay men had to be discreet, they would often have anonymous relations in public spaces like bathhouses and bars. This combination of unsafe sex practices and anonymous lovers caused STDs to run rampant through the community, and allowed the AIDS epidemic to have a devastating impact on the queer community.

In Victorian great houses, the footmen were effectively the “face” of the manor’s servants, so height and attractiveness was favored when hiring them. As such, footmen make for excellent romantic interests in a historical time period, since they’re required to be attractive to be hired.

The mafia has a long history of working with and supporting the LGBT community. In the 1920s, nightclubs in the black districts of Harlem would host drag balls, these events being known as Harlem Nights. The mafia helped these groups to meet without police interference for a kickback fee. Even the Stonewall Inn had Mafia protection. In a world where homosexuality is still seen as a sin, think about what groups are willing to turn a blind eye in the interest of profit.

Homosexuals were among those rounded up the Nazi Party during the Holocaust. Just as Jews were forced to wear the Star of David on their clothes, so too were homosexuals marked with a pink triangle. The Nazi Party also destroyed research on gender and sexuality, which destroyed a lot of evidence that had been gathered of queer existence up to that point in time. Today, the Pink Triangle is among the reclaimed symbols used by the queer community.

Queer people found ways to signal to one another. At different points in time, the visual cues have included wearing green ties, having a red carnation in their lapels, and in the 1970s, a bandana in the back pocket was a common way of indicating someone was a homosexual, and the color would even further indicate what they were looking for. Many modern slang words even started out as gay code words so that gay people could talk in public without drawing attention to themselves. Codes like “buns” for butt are still in use today, but got their start as codewords to keep gay conversations undercover.

While we often remember the Red Scare of the 1950s, we often don’t mention that there was also a Lavender Scare at the same time, which hunted down homosexuals just as the Red Scare hunted for communists. It was the belief that homosexuals would be more likely to undermine American policies or spread information to enemy nations, and thus had to be kept down.

Rich men often kept “actresses”, paying for apartments for them, paying for their food, drink, fun, costumes, and whatever else. If they really were an actress or otherwise a struggling entertainer, it was not unheard of for the wealthy benefactor to pay to get the actress roles, pay for tutors and lessons, or even buying them an entire theater. It’s not so hard to believe that a wealthy gentleman could keep a male model, actor, or artist in good stead, especially because artists in particular flourished in periods where rich people would sponsor and commission artists to paint for them. And this can work for either type of story, as a husband or wife would be equally annoyed to learn that the Duke of Orleans is keeping a young actor on the south side.

Gif Sourcing:

1. Bridgerton (2020 - present) 2. Game of Thrones (2011-2019) 3. Mary, Queen of Scots (2018) 4. Downton Abbey (2010-2015) 5. Victoria (2016) 6. Cloud Atlas (2012) 7. A Place to Call Home (2013-2018) 8. Mary Shelley (2017) 9. Brokeback Mountain (2005)