musicallistorecs

[musicallistorecs]

STOP lisa I don't go here necessarily but you knew I just might,,,,, since I dipped my toes in the big scary F1 pool in Miami,,,, but I mean, it's you, and it's Monaco on Sunday, so I just HAD TO. And girl!!!!! I looooove this?? i love the humor and sarcasm you infuse in your narration, I love how much of a girlboss Y/N is in this one, and I loooove me an awestricken Charles blurting out that they're dating <3 I don't know him but it looks like something he'd do lol <3 and I also love how (from the few F1 fics I've come across by you) you can never not include Carlos when you write anything for Charles. truly, as a French-Spanish lover of himbo duos, Ferrari is the gift that keeps on giving 💖

GIRLFRIEND i adored your lewis hamilton fics and am BEGGING you to write one for our boy charles leclerc!!! reader could be the public relations manager for the team and after another one of ferraris (unfortunate) racing tactics the press is badgering charles about what went wrong and overstepping boundaries and reader (who would be charles' gf or something idk) kinda steps in and puts them in their place

girlfriend!! anything for charles!

masterlist

If there’s one job worse than being a Scuderia Ferrari strategist, it’s being the director of public relations for the same team. The strategists really do try, bless their misguided little hearts, or so they claim, at least, but they do tend to cause a fair amount of trouble. Every race week, you prepare your statements for every kind of mishap, and every race week, you find yourself scrambling to draft responses to all types of new problems. Delightful.

Well, at least it’s interesting. Besides, the need for all these responses keeps you in a job, so you can’t really complain all that much. If there was one person with a legitimate bone to pick, though, that would have to be your boyfriend. He’s the one out there on the track whose shot at the Drivers’ Championship slips away with every bad plan, but for some reason, Charles Leclerc has still managed to keep his public affection for his racing team in fact.

Publicly, that is. When no one’s around but the two of you, when no one can hear you but the moths clustering on the outside of your glowing windows and the curling wind after dark, Charles sighs and runs his hands through his already mussed hair and actually says what he wishes.

It’s sort of funny, actually, that the only person Charles feels safe to be honest with is the PR head for his own company. As if you’d do a thing to hurt either him or his reputation, though. With the daunting task of carrying the hopes and dreams of all the Tifosi, Charles’ image and the man himself are one and the same. If you can protect him in any way, why would you not?

You just have to take care that you’re doing it inconspicuously. Very few people on this earth know about your relationship with Charles, you’d done that on purpose. Both of you were afraid of the toll it would take on your respective careers should the news come out. You would be accused of unfairly favoring a fellow employee, and he would be called out for similar HR violations.

That’s what years of public relations occupations have taught you. That’s the textbook answer:  you don’t date your coworkers and so you don’t have to find out what sort of backlash that blunder would win you. In all reality, you have no idea what would happen. Ferrari loves Charles, and you’ve won them some serious Internet credit over the years. After steering them away from several controversies, you’d think they’d be willing to cut you some slack.

Such a scenario, of Fred Vasseur letting you date his golden boy, isn’t even feasible in your imagination, let alone real life. Your little fantasy of public acceptance will have to stay just that until several miracles happen all at once to twist the popular eye in your favor.

Until then, though, you’re happy with what you have, truly you are. You fell in love with Charles for a reason, despite your best efforts and smartest choices. He is a wonderful man and an even better boyfriend. No one in this world has prioritized you or cared about you even half as much as he does. Charles does nothing by halves– not his racing, not his passion for his sport and career, and certainly not loving you.

With him, you feel wanted, and with him, you are willing to hide until hell freezes over and you’re allowed to go public without risking your job. Right now, you have everything, and there’s no way you’d risk that. Working at Ferrari was your dream, and you’ve had it for years now. Falling in love with someone like Charles was beyond your wildest imagination, but somehow that came true, too.

And, when you speak to Charles, he says much of the same thing. Sometimes, when you talk to him, you can still see the boy who’d promised his father he’d drive for Ferrari, the same kid who stepped into a kart for the first time and knew it would be his world forever. Charles has a spirit wholly unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, yet he still swears that his life wasn’t complete until he met you.

Despite all of his charm, you had still initially tried to resist your feelings for him. Charles had joined Scuderia Ferrari only a year before you did; both of you were relatively new to the love and scourge of the Tifosi. It had been easy, then, to talk with him, to laugh with him, to let him eke out a place in your heart. It was inevitable. It was glorious. It was him.

You hadn’t counted on falling for him, but before you knew it, your heart was doing slow loops in your chest whenever you saw him, and meetings suddenly became way more interesting because Charles always went out of his way to sit next to you. It didn’t matter that drivers usually avoided public relations and media people like the plague, you were suddenly his favorite person in the world.

You watched and waited for it to stop, for him to get distracted by someone else, but that time never came. Charles still stayed hopeless for you, and when you could no longer hide the fact that you felt the same way, he asked you out at last, high on the adrenaline rush of winning a race. You had said yes, of course, and everything after that was history.

Charles is yours now, and you are his. He makes everything make sense, even when the two of you are gnashing your teeth over godawful strategy calls. It’s good to know that he will always be there to discuss the day’s work. It’s good to know that you will always have him.

That doesn’t mean that the Scuderia Ferrari strategists are in any way let off the hook, though. In fact, since you’ve started dating Charles, your resentment towards their bad calls has only grown. Both of your jobs are on the line whenever the strategy team messes up, and yet the problems keep coming.

For example, this week you’re reckoning with another round of bad calls. This time was another erroneous tyre mixup. Charles somehow went into qualifying with two different kinds of tyres on his car, like the strategists ran out of mediums and they decided two hards and two softs would do the same amount of work.

Spoiler:  it did not, and now Charles will be starting the next race from a less favorable position than hoped. In between furious complaints from Charles and utter incredulity from yourself, you’ve been scrambling to come up with some sort of angle for the Ferrari drivers to play during their next interviewers. Yet another crazy turn of events, but when has Formula One ever been boring?

Just in case, you’ll be patrolling the paddock with the other drivers and their communication managers so you can be available if the reporters start asking the kinds of questions Scuderia Ferrari wants to avoid. You split your time evenly between Charles and Carlos; although you may be dating one of the drivers, that doesn’t mean you’ll be favoring him.

Still, you’re not exactly ignoring Charles either. Spending time with him is easier, you can spot his ticks and the invisible signs that he’s losing his patience better than anyone else. That’s the benefit of loving him, you suppose, it gives you the ability to read his mind without needing something as exaggerated as telepathy.

You can see this right now, actually. This one Sky Sports interviewer has been hounding Charles for a good long while now. Charles has attempted to walk away several times, but the guy can’t take a hint and actually started following him, camera guys running in pursuit. Charles’ grin is starting to slip, and his eyes have long since stopped looking happy.

Carlos is still doing fine, so you bid him a hasty goodbye and turn back towards Charles before anything too terrible can happen. As you’re nearing your boyfriend, though, you hear the interviewer pushing Charles more than he should in a simple moment for the media.

In fact, the guy’s getting physical, which is the one thing that certainly should not happen in an interview. Unable to avoid Charles’ attempts to end the prolonged interview any longer, the other man has run up in front of him, actually grabbing onto Charles’ arms to stop him in his tracks.

Charles looks furious, but you are so far beyond that. You appear right behind Charles, stepping in between the two men as quickly as you can. Judging by the fright that cascades across the interviewer’s face, your expression reflects exactly what you’re feeling right now, and that is not a good thing for him.

“I think my eyes must be deceiving me,” you begin slowly, “because it looked to me like you just put hands on my driver. That would be such a monumentally stupid thing to do, so surely something else must be going on. You must have enough fluff in your head to know that laying even a finger on my driver would be a colossal mistake. I know you’re not doing that. I know you’re not. Right?”

The interviewer visibly blanches. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m not– I wouldn’t–”

Your smile is sinister but oh so perfect. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. This interview is over now, right? You were just talking about how Charles has continued to prove himself a capable driver despite setbacks out of his control?”

The interviewer audibly gulps. “Yeah, that. A lot of that.”

“Wonderful,” you grin, “I’ll just stay right here then, to make sure you’re staying on track.”

You take a few steps back for propriety’s sake, but the interviewer doesn’t look like he’ll be trying anything again. You’ve properly frightened him, which feels quite good, actually. Perhaps you should do this more often.

Charles certainly looks like he’s a fan of this. He’s beaming ear to ear, which is certainly a change from the glower that had been on his face only moments before. He’s supposed to be focused on wrapping up this sham of an interview, but he can’t seem to focus for longer than a second without turning around to look at you again. You’ll really have to get after him about trying not to be conspicuous, but you’re feeling pleased with yourself at the moment, so you don’t have the heart for it. Maybe later. Maybe never.

The interviewer shudders. “She terrifies me.”

Charles grins after you, somewhat in a haze. “I know, that’s why I’m so glad she’s my girlfriend.”

Your jaw drops as you realize what he’s said. “Charles!”

Charles’ eyes immediately go wide. “I didn’t– she’s not– shit!”

The public reaction to this is, as expected, insane. For the most part, though, it’s very positive. The fans are glad to see you defending their driver, and thousands of people have voiced their support online for how clearly infatuated Charles is with you. The idea that your bosses would try to split up the two of you is horrible to them, and it’s horrible to you, too.

It’s a good thing, then, that the higher-ups at Scuderia Ferrari would much rather prioritize the future of their drivers and public relations experts than try to cut off this relationship. Vasseur gives you the okay by the next race, and actually adds in some comment about how he’s been wondering if Charles would ever get up the nerve to ask for your number. It appears that the two of you may not have been as expert at hiding your relationship as you thought.

That was your greatest fear, that you would lose your job over this, and now that the danger has passed, you feel an immense wave of relief crest over you. You can keep the life you’d always wanted, and you can continue having Charles be such a main part of it, too. This is exactly what you’d hoped for in your wildest dreams, but your eyes are open now, and full of delight.

Charles is thrilled, too. He immediately rushes to his Instagram to post his favorite photos of you, something he fondly tells you later was a long time coming. The rest of the drivers absolutely destroy him in the comments for being, quote, ‘the biggest simp on the entire planet,’ according to Pierre Gasly, but you don’t think Charles cares at all. He’s got you, that’s what matters most.

And, to make up for the whole debacle, he gets you roses. Ferrari red. He’s a terrible flirt and utterly unstoppable when it comes to winning you over. Shame he’s able to do it every time. It’s almost as if you could never hold a grudge against him for longer than a second. Still, the groveling does him good, and soon enough he’s got a monopoly over your smiles just like before.

So, when the next race rolls around, you’re able to stroll into the paddock holding the hand of your boyfriend. It is not half as terrifying as you’d thought. In fact, it’s kind of extraordinary. Just like him.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

[musicallistorecs]

Hi! Do you have any new recs for any Benedict Bridgerton fics? 👀 I know I'm late to the Bridgerton train, but I recently got hooked lol

hi! unfortunately if you have already perused my Benedict tag on this blog, I'm afraid there's not much I can do for you... I haven't been reading fanfiction at all for a few months (as you can see from my inactivity on here), but I'll reblog this to my main so people can plug in their favorites!

[musicallistorecs]

Hi! Could I ask for a 🌎 with Newt from the Maze Runner? Thanks for your time!

me when i create a list of possible options for my celebration and then ignore every ask in my inbox in favor of doing the world swaps 💀 anyway i did my random world generator and newt is doing a crossover with top gun!

The problem with being one of the best pilots in the Navy is that you tend to know the others pretty well, too. Newt can’t quite remember when he started befriending the dozens of boys around him, just that they’re all here now, and that’s what matters most. They’re here, sweating it out in the sun, and they won’t leave this place of labyrinthine bureaucracy and endless tests until one of them makes it to the top of the listings first. 

Newt, callsign Glue for all the times he’s kept his buddies together despite a truly terrible plan to get them home, was one of the best pilots Top Gun had until the accident. No one talks about it much, they don’t like to. If you linger over what makes your latest blond Icarus plunge towards the sea in a fiery tailspin, you start to wonder what your program is doing to the other guys. Ignoring it is easier.

Newt teaches now. He’s fine with that. It keeps him on the ground. He sows the seeds of inspiration for the other recruits. One of the newcomers is about his age, probably wondering why Newt’s already given up on any dreams of making it past the endless cycles of Navy desk jobs. Thomas– codename Tommy, no one has imagination around here– is different from the others, though. Sprinted through his own time at the Naval Academy, the greenest by far but still somehow one of the best. Time does strange things to its favorites.

Tommy flies with Leader, a dark-haired boy named Minho who used to be Newt’s co-pilot up until the accident. Gally, another one of the grounded higher-ups, keeps bringing this up to Newt as if it’s supposed to make him bitter that he was replaced so quickly. Gally, who Newt refuses to call by his code name in a silent act of rebellion, is also one of the most infuriating jocks this side of the sea. He snapped at one of the officer’s kids one day for running around on the base, making the little boy break out into tears. Chuck didn’t deserve that. Minho almost got himself grounded for his revenge, but Newt got him out. They’ve always had each other’s backs.

So life continues, the same yet somehow different. The boys go up in the air and they come back before dark. Newt watches from his place of safety on the ground and wonders if he will ever forgive himself for causing the crash that stuck him here.

[musicallistorecs]

so I love this???? joel is SUCH a comforting figure without being too doting or hands-on, his mere presence is reassuring and inspiring and you transcribed that beautifully!! I loved the ending especially, when the reader just can't take it anymore and is about to give up and joel is here, always, not to make promises he can't keep or sugarcoat the shit situation they're in, but just,,,, to ooze rugged warmth and assurance. i love him so much<3333 and I can't wait how their relationship develops further!!! tag me in the rest too please!!!

Patrols 1 ⎯ Joel Miller One-Shot

Pairings: Joel Miller x Nonbinary!Reader Fandom: The Last of Us MASTERLIST Word Count: 1.4k SUMMARY: Patrols have been kicking your ass but luckily you're paired with Joel Miller instead of Jesse. Unlucky for you: You're on patrol period.

A/N This has been in the works for like a year now LMFAO but I finished it instead of doing my work <3 Pedro Pascal IS the only Joel Miller I know <3 This is going to be a multi-part series so I'm not rushing relationship development

Patrols were kicking your ass. A recent resurgence of infected made for more work for everyone. It was exhausting but primarily annoying. You weren’t bad at patrols, you just didn’t like going on them. You were paired with Joel some of the time and Jesse others. It wasn’t too bad with Joel, he did the job and did it well.

Jesse on the other hand liked to make small talk and you weren’t known for your friendliness. Thankfully you were paired with Joel today, you would have collapsed from exhaustion had Maria put you with Jesse for the third day in a row.

“Mornin’,” Joel nodded toward you.

“Hey,” You yawned loudly from atop your horse, “Ready?”

He chuckled, “Seems you’re less ready than I am.” You shot him a dirty look, “Woah, I didn’t mean it like that, now.” Joel held his hands up.

Your horse, Ochre, was mild-mannered and usually sassy but it seemed she sensed you were exhausted. “Where are we patrolling today?”

“West side of the pines, someone said they heard somethin’ funny yesterday.”

“I bet you what we find isn’t going to make either of us laugh.”

Joel shook his head–a smile ghosting on his face. You were never too interested in getting closely related with anyone in Jackson. Sure, the town felt like home and you would protect the others with your life–but you didn’t have any family. Not like Joel did. He had his brother and a daughter.

You didn’t even have many close friends. Dina was the only person you could really tolerate, and by extension, you tolerated Ellie–Joel’s daughter. The two girls were the funniest people you’d ever met, they were the only people who could get you to crack a smile anymore. It was weird because ever since the outbreak, you’d been completely empty.

Only 17 when things went to complete shit–you were supposed to start college before the outbreak. That never happened. Nobody in your family made it out alive. You’d been in New York when it happened on your senior trip, everyone was at home, and before you could even think to go home… you were quarantined in NYC. You were probably lucky to be alive considering how quickly things spread in big cities.

Some days you wished you’d been unlucky. With how tired you were, today was looking like one of those days.

“Don’t fall asleep atop that horse now,” You yawned once more, struggling to find the energy to glare at Joel, “Hey, don’t give me that look. You should go on back.”

“We’re almost there, I’m fine.” You gathered the reins tighter and brought Ochre into a steady gallop. Joel sighed loudly but followed you.

The pine trees in this area were massive, they loomed over you two ominously. You hated this area of the woods the most. You two stopped and tied your horses to a tree, beginning to walk deeper into the woods.

“I honestly really hate these woods.” Your shotgun was heavy in your hands as you looked around quickly. “The trees look like infected sometimes.” You mumbled, keeping your focus on watching around you two.

Joel slides his rifle onto his back and carries his pistol in hand, “Ellie used to get frightened in this area, she said stalkers like to hide under the branches.”

You scoff at his attempt to make conversation, “That doesn’t help me at all, Miller. Let’s get this over with.”

—

Half an hour of wandering aimlessly, listening for the sound of infected. The only sound came from the pine needles under your feet. You were beginning to lose your patience, wanting to scream and hope for the best.

“I swear to god if they were making this up about there being infected out her–” Joel shushes you loudly and that sets you on high alert–raising your shotgun to look down the sight.

He jerks his head to the side and you slowly turn, two clickers were facing your direction. The infected chattered to one another and you leaned down to grab a hefty pine cone. You arched the cone over the pair of clickers. The clatter of the cone smacking a tree made one of them screech and rush for it.

Joel snuck behind the one that stayed behind and you followed his lead, slinging your shotgun over your shoulder and squeezing your shiv tightly. While he took out that clicker you moved as quietly as possible.

Your attention was pulled away when you spotted a runner a few yards away. Luckily it wasn’t paying you any mind and so you stood up behind the clicker and stabbed it through the fungal growth–effectively killing it. You didn’t know how but Joel got behind the runner and choked it out.

There being a runner meant that somebody was out here recently. Runners were quite rare all the way out here.

“Check that body, Miller, it’s a new one.”

Joel kneeled down, “Already on it,” You did the same with the clicker just to be sure that there wasn’t anything useful on it.

It wasn’t unusual to be rifling through the pockets of a dead body… you were desensitized to nearly every gory part of the new world. You just couldn’t get over the smell of blood. Copper and metallic would upset your stomach so bad that sometimes you’d have to wear a mask just wandering around.

“They were a Firefly.” Joel tossed their pendant to you.

Another commonality… while runners were rare, whenever they were found… it seemed more and more of them were Fireflies who had bad luck.

“Aren’t they all Fireflies these days?”

“Yup. Come on let’s make sure we got ‘em all.”

—

There were three more infected wandering in the pines. But the cabin ahead seemed to have been recently vacated.

“I really don’t want to go in there.” You admitted, cringing at the thought of what could be inside.

Joel shrugged, “Then stay here.” He was the only person who didn’t force you to follow him inside buildings. Typically you would but the cabin was small, what could go wrong?

You sat on the ground and leaned against a tree, now that there wasn’t anything to keep your focus on–you were getting sleepy. Just as your eyes began dropping a loud bang startled you into an upright position. “Joel!?”

The door to the cabin slammed outward and Joel stumbled out, “Might wanna run,” His eyes were wide with surprise. “Move!” Joel pushes you in front of him and you bolt.

You sneak a glance behind you and see it. A huge bloater with three legs and four arms, “What the fuck is that!?” The infected disgusted you and it made your stomach churn. “That’s so fucking nasty!”

“We just gotta get some distance between us and it.” The bloater was slow-moving and seemed very unstable. “We’re gonna kill the son of a bitch.” That didn’t sound like a question to you.

“I know. Just haven’t killed too many bloaters.” You began lighting a molotov cocktail, “Guess we should get to work?” Joel gave you a single nod and you both launched a molotov cocktail toward the bloater.

It roared in pain as the fire spread across its skin. Joel brandished his rifle and began taking calculated shots. You stepped a few feet closer in order to make best use of your shotgun ammo. The bloater took any chances it could to throw poisonous sacs of spores at you too. It made firing harder but after about ten minutes it finally went down.

You dropped your gun on the ground and sighed loudly, “I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s happening?” You shrugged, Joel watched you carefully as your head spun. “Y/N, you need to breathe.”

When he said that you noticed a lack of air in your lungs and tried to force your body to do its job. But it was no use. Exhaustion paired with disgust pushed your brain into panic mode. You just wanted to lay down and die, honestly. You could tell Joel was a bit freaked out because if your actions (or lack thereof).

“I’m–” You gasped through a breath, forcing air into your nose. “I’m okay. Just really tired.”

Joel nodded, “How about you wait here and I’ll bring the horses to you?”

That sounded really nice, “Oh god, that’d be great. Thank you.” He gave you one long look before jogging off in the opposite direction.

Tags: @musicallisto <3

[musicallistorecs]

American Storm - Arthur x Reader

Summary: Abigail was pregnant. Having lost your child few years back, you're having a hard time coping, but Arthur is there to help you through it.

Words: 1,444

Warnings: loss of a child, angst.

A/N: This was extremely hard to write. I'm not a fan of angst (as you can see, most/all of my work is lighthearted and cute), and this went even beyond that. If I didn't do this topic justice, I hope you can understand why.

Based on the request: do you know when arthur has a dialogue talking about his son isaac? you could write where the reader and arthur actually had a child but he, unfortunately, died (the cause may be your preference) almost no one in the gang knows about it and the reader blames herself for all this time

AO3 Link

Abigail was pregnant.

The news was all everyone could talk about. From how far along she was, to who’s the father, to how a child could live in a gang of outlaws, all people could talk about was the impending addition to the gang.

Dutch wasn’t happy, but he, like the rest of the people, knew that nothing could be done at this point. All they could do now was be prepared for the child’s arrival and make sure Abigail was as comfortable as she could be.

The rest of the gang members varied from being excited, annoyed or scared. Some thought that Abigail should do what’s best for the child and leave the gang, but when asked where she would go, no answer came. Others were surprisingly excited and were looking forward to becoming aunts and uncles to the little boy or girl that was going to grow up in the camp.

John, having been the last to bed Abigail and being her on-and-off boyfriend, was chosen as the child’s father and fell in all three camps. He was excited at moving up to the next step in his life and having a child; He was annoyed that this next step came out of the blue; And he ultimately was scared at what this meant for him and the rest of his life. Would he be a good father? Will he be able to protect the child? All of those thoughts flooded his brain like a river, and he felt himself buckle under the responsibility that was suddenly thrusted upon his shoulders.

You liked Abigail. Since she joined the gang almost a year ago, the two of you quickly became good friends. She was smarter than she let on, and lived a life no easier than the rest of you, so it was easy for the two of you to connect. You thought of her as your friend, which was why it pained you so much that you had to distance yourself from her upon hearing the news.

You could hear the commotion outside of your tent. The child kicked for the first time, so everyone from Uncle, to Susan, to Dutch, to even John himself went to see and feel for themselves. Their voices, happy and boisterous, carried all throughout the camp, reaching even the tent where you have secluded yourself in.

The salty flavor of your own tears have become a usual taste upon your lips, and you have long stopped trying to dry them out. Curled on your cot, you softly wailed into the pillow, trying to be as quiet as possible. Each sob made your whole body shake, and you felt pathetic as you bit your lip, keeping yourself from crying louder.

“Darlin’, you in there?” you heard Arthur say from outside the tent.

You took a shaky, uneven breath, trying to calm yourself down enough to speak back. When you spoke, your voice came out broken. “Yes”

The flaps of the tent opened, illuminating the inside of your tent with a hint of sunlight for only a moment as Arthur went in.

Whatever he wanted to say flew out the window as soon as his eyes landed on your form. You looked small and fragile as you laid on the cot, curled on yourself like a beaten dog. He didn’t need to ask you the reason for your tears; he already knew. Neither of you brought the topic up until this moment, dancing around the subject, both of you too scared to be the first to say the words.

He sat on the cot next to you and reached out with his hand to brush the hair from your face. Needles and pins, sharp as a razor's edge struck his heart upon seeing your face, tear streaks evident from hours of crying. He could feel a sob of his own make his way up his throat, but he swallowed hard and spoke.

“I should’ve been there for you,” he said, his voice somber.

You sat up a bit in the cot and after brushing your nose and eyes with the back of your hand said, “There’s nothing you could’ve done, Arthur,” your voice still hoarse and small.

The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes, both of you lost in your thoughts, reminiscing about the past, of what was and what could’ve been. As images of the fateful night flooded your brain, so real you could practically feel yourself there, you broke into a cry.

Arthur’s hands were on your within seconds, enveloping you in his arms and bringing you to his chest. He ran a soothing hand down your hair and your back, his own tears now freely running down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” you cried against his chest, clawing at his shirt, “I’m so sorry. It was all my fault.”

Even with years that have passed, you still blamed yourself for the loss of your child. The night your water broke, Susan was the one helping you deliver the baby and even she with her limited knowledge of childbirth knew that something was not right. From the unusual amount of pain you were feeling to the amount of blood, she knew that she had to get you to a doctor as soon as possible. Arthur, Dutch, John and Hosea were all on a job, so she alone had to get you into the wagon and drive you to the nearest town. She was shaking as she drove the wagon, the sound of your cries and screams making her hold on the rains tighter and spurring the horses harder. None of that mattered in the end, for when you did reach the doctor, it was too late.

Arthur knew that something was wrong as soon as he and the other men came back to camp. His heartbeat was raging and his hands shaking as he searched the camp for you, only to be told by Pearson that he saw you and Susan leave the previous night. Without speaking with anybody else, he mounted his horse and made his way to the town.

He found you and Susan at the doctor, crying. She held you in her hands, running a soothing hand down your back as you cried your eyes out in her chest. Upon Arthur’s arrival, she looked up at him, her eyes just as red, and he could feel a part of him die in that moment.

Neither of you blamed each other, instead blaming yourselves. Arthur never forgave himself for leaving that day. He felt that if he stayed back, stayed with you, he could’ve done something. Perhaps gotten you to the doctor’s faster, or found you a medication. You, on the other hand, felt the fault was completely your own; That it was your fault that this all happened, that your body made this happen. You couldn’t look at yourself the same way, and each day that you lived, blamed yourself.

Arthur placed both of his hands on your shoulders, pulling you from his chest so he could look at you. Your eyes were bloodshot, tears flowing freely down your cheeks, to your chin and on the cot. He lifted one of his hands to brush the tears away. The laughter and cheering from the outside has died down and you could now hear the sound of your sniffles and shaky breathing. As you raised your eyes to look at Arthur, your heart broke in two when you saw that he was crying. Not as much as you, but with the faint light of the lamp in the corner, you could see that his eyes were red and there were streaks of tears running down his cheeks.

“You and me,” he said. “We will get through this. We always do.”

Your lip shook, and when another cry broke from your mouth, you hid your head back into Arthur’s chest, wetting his shirt with your tears. Warmth and safety; that’s what you always felt when you were with Arthur, and right now was no different. As you laid your head against his chest, calmed down by his breathing and the warmth radiating off of him, you let yourself, for a moment, think that maybe yes, you will get through this.

The two of you spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms, talking and crying, crying and talking.

Outside, John too let himself think that maybe he and Abigail will get through this. The child kicked all throughout the night, and John was there the entire time, his hand over her stomach, a smile on his lips.

[musicallistorecs]

OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT!!!! I need to be Nina's best friend like immediately 🥺 also, that part about thinking you loved Nina but it was just her making you feel that way because it's hard letting people in? Heartbreaking. I just want my favorite chaotic Grisha to be happy and unbothered </33

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐤'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 (𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: this is book Nina, but I’ll try not to have any spoilers. Also Nina IS SUPPOSED TO BE PLUS SIZED BUT I GUESS THAT WAS TOO DIFFICULT HUH.

ᴹᵃˢ���ᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    

Afficher davantage

[musicallistorecs]

Margaery content we love to see it!! I wish the show had expanded on her as a character more, I feel like apart from her being calculating and scheming we didn't get to see that much of her? Anyhow, these headcanons were brilliant and so cute. I can definitely see her with bouts of insomnia that only a soothing presence can calm!

𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐲𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

Afficher davantage

[musicallistorecs]

TOP GUN FIC RECS 2! — @dracosluvbot's fic recs

top gun fics that i’ve been reading and obsessing with over recently

this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.

F: fluff A: angst S: smut

𖥻 - series /multi part

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

F: monday to friday by @wildbornsiren a week of interacting with rooster and the one day he asks you out.

F: like father like son by @chaostheoryy rooster worries that he will face the same fate as his father.

F: lover by @hangmans-girl you reminisce the beginnings of your loving family

F: torture by @make-me-imagine you make a bet with rooster and till he wins, no kissing.

F: impact by @priceof-freedom the last thing you expected was getting a football to the head by the man you had been shooting heart eyes at

F: career day by @dearestdaffodils 𖥻 bradley's a decorated naval aviator and you're an elementary teacher.

A: happier by @wannabeschyulersister despite having broken up, all you want for bradley is for him to be happy.

F + A: the arrangement by @croimilis when you were 18, you and rooster made an agreement that you will always be the other's plus one to any event. years later, you need a date to a wedding and bradley lives up to the arrangement.

A: peace out by @undiscovered-horizon bradley's patience is run thin when your ex-boyfriend shows up at the hard deck.

F: eyes without face by @zstrn a day well spent with your family at the beach.

A: half a heart by @halsteadsbradshaw following your break up with rooster, you and rooster struggle to live without each other

F: his f-18, his bronco, his favorite sports teams and you by @starlightval you list the things that rooster loves and he corrects you

F + A: big fat fuckin' mistake by @shaded-echoes you have been keeping a toddler shaped secret from rooster for years when you're called back to lemoore, only for him to uncover the truth

S: i think i might love you by @stranger-nightmare hangman loves you but you love rooster

F + A: inconceivable! by @rolycolysficrecs having told that you were inconceivable at 17, you were led to believe that you would never have children. it is up to you to then decide between your miracle baby and the man you loved.

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

F + A: couldn't really stay away by @typical-simplelove not matter how much he tries, jake can't seem to stay away from you.

F + A: the gallows by @strangerstuffandthingsimagines your past comes back to haunt you as you overcome your fear of the inevitable

F + A: heartfirst by @etherealperrie 𖥻 you visit phoenix while she's based in san diego, only to find out that an old partner of yours is stationed there too. throw in a cocky blonde and you're in a whirl of emotions.

F + A: all this time by @phoenixbby you and hangman are stranded in the cold, only having each other as you wait for rescue to be dispatched.

F + A: vexation by @siempre-bucky you and hangman do not get along. what happens when the hate blurs into love?

F + A: who did this to you? by @justfandomwritings hangman finds you hurt and bruised at the hard deck, his protective side kicks in and he's determined to ensure your safety.

F + A: happily ever after by @daughterofthereaper02 jake is your childhood best friend. friends, that's all you would ever be, right?

F + A: make him wait by @powerfulruler 𖥻 jake seresin is not a patient man. for you? he's willing to wait eternity.

A: a little out of the ordinary by @mayhem24-7forever you think that jake could never love you that way while jake thinks the same.

F: hey pretty girl by @callsign-marlie the five times jake calls you pretty girl and the one time he uses it on another

F + A: until him by @lordabovehelpme you didn't know what love felt like till you met hangman

F + A: see you soon by @sunnysidevans you cross paths with hangman once again. will you make it work this time?

F: country girl, shake it for me by @nomtterwhere hangman brings you back to his hometown and shows you a side of him top gun never saw

F + A: this love by @roosterscock admiral kazansky's health is declining and you move back home to spend the last days of your father's life with him

S: loud and clear by @theonetrueneohero hangman, your brother's best friend, is off limits

F: muddy trails by @katcoquette a day in the woods with the ever adventurous hangman

ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD

F: the six times you met bob floyd in school and the one time you didn't by @lt-natrace bob's neice is a student in your class and you're enamored by her equally charming uncle

F + A: the five stages of falling in love by @imjess-themess you go through the five stages of gried as you fall in love with bob

F + S: morning after by @mothdruid you spend the night with bob, not knowing who each other really are

F: tense by @bippot bob is just too tense.

F + A: sweet home alabama by @3tabbiesandalab all you ever wanted was for bob to be successful, even at the expense of your only chance at happiness

F: we'll never have sex by @floyd-luvr while sat by the fire, you and bob share a sweet moment

TOM 'ICEMAN' KAZANSKY

F: that’s him..that’s the man I’m going to marry. by @redmenacehorned as you watch tom recieve his well-deserved award, you are convinced that he is the man you are going to marry

F + S: something to remember me by by @callsignthirsty ice is worried he won't return and wants to leave you with something to remember him by

F: crash and burn by @callsign-dragonbaron none of the other pilots know that iceman has a partner. he watches from afar as his fellow aviators try to hit on you and fail terribly.

F: tom is finer by @krmy2386 pete doesn't treat you like you deserve and tom is willing to change that

S: steamy by @callsignbob tom kazansky gets on your nerves. what better to relieve the tension than hate sex?

S: fatal attraction by @hotgirlmav ice knows that you're so wrong for him. so wrong that you're absolutely right.

NICK 'GOOSE' BRADSHAW

A: that photo of us by @heywheresemily bradley sifts through old family photos, finding one of his father and a familiar woman

F: the perfect weekend by @focusedarrow you and goose go behind your brother's back

F: i do by @callsign-rockstar on your wedding day, goose has one last thing to say 'i do' to

F: gremlins by @duchesstypewriter bradley wakes up in a flurry from a nightmare, you and goose ensure him that there are no gremlins hiding out

F: imagine goose comforting you after an argument by @spinningwebsandtales

MICKEY 'FANBOY' GARCIA

F: don't drop my baby by @callsign-squints the dagger squad meet baby garcia for the very first time

[musicallistorecs]

You inhaled smoke. You exhaled ghosts, swirling and wisping around you, caressing your cheek just like he did.

go ahead and rip my FUCKING HEART OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ghosts and Smoke

*i wrote this with this song in mind, so please feel free to listen for extra vibes!*

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 2791

warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE END OF RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2, angst, death, smoking, suggested post-sex scene

a/n: y'all i am GONE. it killed me. the end of red dead killed me and all i've done since is cry and write this damn angst. i'm sorry, but i'm also not. hope you enjoy!! also, thank you for all the love on my latest piece! im so glad youre as into this silly cowboy man as much as i am rn.

My requests are currently open!

It was so quiet. You were used to the quiet lately, going it alone, but not here. Not Shady Belle, which was always full of laughter and fire and swearing and gunshots. The leaves rustled and your broken heart beat every so often but other than that, there was nothing. No laughter, no fire, nothing. You’d hitched your horse about a mile away, careful to keep her hidden well, so you were well and truly alone here. 

You looked up at the house, still somehow standing tall amongst the ghosts and smoke and tried your best to take a deep breath. It was about 30 paces away from you, past the campfire, your old tent and the fountain. A twig snapped under your boot as you took the first step, fingernails digging little moons into the palm of your hand. You could do this. Just past the campfire and you’d be halfway there.

═══════☆═══════

“What’re you always lookin’ at when I do this, huh?” Arthur asked, meeting your eye and wearing that amused smirk that suited him so well, sending your heart fluttering each and every time. 

That awful feeling people only get when they realise the other knows you’ve been watching them churned your stomach for a second. Honestly, you hadn’t even realised you were staring. 

“Nothin’. I just… my daddy used to smoke those things. He always tried to teach me to roll them for him and I never could. You seem so good at it.”

Sat around the fire with some of the camp, Arthur had been rolling some tobacco into a cigarette. You always found yourself watching him, finding the way his fingers expertly knew what they were doing somewhat hypnotising. And then there was that moment his tongue darted out from his teeth to lick the paper, which was… a sight to behold, to say the least. 

“I’ve got years of experience… I can teach ya sometime, if you’d like.” 

The opportunity to spend more time with Arthur dangled in front of you, shining like a medal. You reached out and grabbed it, nodding at him eagerly, “I’ll warn ya, my daddy tried real hard. I’m a difficult student.” 

Arthur’s head tilted, a cocky grin dominating his features beautifully before he pulled the masterfully rolled cigarette to his lips and licked down the length of the paper. You tried to remain composed while the air was stolen by an outlaw straight from your lungs. 

“I guess I’ll just have t’work you real hard then, won’t I?”

═══════☆═══════

The camp always smelled like smoke, so the fresh air felt wrong as you stepped past the plot that was formerly the fire you’d spent so many nights beside. The logs and stumps repurposed into chairs still sat around the burnt blackened circle, waiting for people who would never again be together. 

You kept walking, jaw clenched so hard your teeth ached. Your old tent caught your eye, at least what was left of it, singed and ripped canvas still hanging pathetically, tangled in a branch. In and amongst the ruins of your former home, your eye is caught by a piece of metal catching the dappled sunlight above. Kneeling down briefly, you pushed damp soil and leaves out of the way to reveal a metal cup trodden into the ground. For a silly little cup, it hurt far too much.

═══════☆═══════

“God damn it!” You swore, watching the tobacco scatter across your legs. Arthur chuckled, low and throaty, leaning against the tree your tent was hung around and taking a long, leisurely sip of coffee out of his cup. Gathering the tiny leaves back together on your skirts, you scowled at Arthur before starting to load the paper back up again.

“You gotta loosen up. Your fingers are too stiff.” He advised, watching his student intently. Easier said than done, really, hunched over a lantern in a tent, but you didn’t want to sound like you were making excuses. 

“Right, yeah... Got it.” You mumbled, your tongue poking out between your teeth, a sure sign of absolute concentration. It was all in vain, though, as the paper crumpled at a funny angle and sent tobacco flying once more onto your person. 

“Shit!” You hissed, flexing out your hands in a futile attempt to 

“Alright, easy now…” he cooed, earning another glare when you realised you recognised the phrase and tone of voice from when a snake spooked Arthur’s horse.

“I give up. This is hopeless.” You tried to reach up to hand him the paper to roll his own damn cigarette and he stepped forwards towards you. Expecting him to take it, you were surprised when he instead handed you his mug and sat down right up next to you. You hadn’t been this close since he first rode you into camp and you felt so small flushed against his broad shoulders like this. 

“Hold that, warm your hands up and I’ll show you again.” You obeyed your orders, doing just as Arthur said as he rubbed his own hands together, occasionally blowing into them. Without another word, he covered your hands, sandwiching them in between calloused palms and heated metal. The unexpected contact knocks you pretty hard, but you somehow manage to find the composure to mutter a thank you and hope you weren’t blushing too hard. 

You looked up to Arthur, only to find he was already looking at you. When your eyes met properly, it felt as though someone had just lit a fire right beside you. The air felt… heavier? No, lighter. Both? You didn’t know and couldn’t quite seem to figure it out, feeling the fuzziness of 4 whiskies that you hadn’t actually drank.

All from the touch of a hand?

The moment was weighted now, and you both knew it. The quiet between you twisted and grew and almost became palpable, but you physically couldn’t talk, not knowing if any actual words would leave or lips or some incoherent murmurings.

“Here. Let me know you.” Arthur took his hands away and the lack of contact had you almost… pouting? You didn’t have time to examine why you were so disappointed, though, as Arthur sat behind you, his chest right up against your back. His legs pressed against the outside of you and you were worried that he was close enough to hear your heart, beating right out of your chest. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Y’have t’make sure you get it nice and tight, so the bottom doesn’t fall out…” His arms wrapped around yours and his hands cupped yours again. The contrast was stark, his tanned, hardened skin making your hands look even tinier. You couldn’t breathe, wedged between the smell of dried tobacco and coffee on one side and smoked tobacco and Arthur on the other. Your fingers so naturally followed what he was doing, and before you could even register it, you had a perfectly rolled cigarette in your hands.

“Oh shit! I did it!” You twisted slightly, only to see the excited grin on Arthur’s face as he watched you squeal proudly. He took the roll from you, placing it right between your teeth and pulling out a match. A questioning brow raised as he lit a match, suspending it in front of the cigarette until you nodded your permission and he lit it. You coughed. He laughed, chest still pressed firmly against your back.

“I’m real proud of you. Now y’gotta learn to smoke the damn things.”

═══════☆═══════

You left your first tent for the last time, vowing to never look back. Wet leaves clung to your boots, dragging across the floor past the crumbling fountain and some other tents being reclaimed by nature, muddy and covered in ivy. The final path up to the house was so familiar after so many hours watching it, waiting for your beloved to return from a job, wringing your hands with worry. The porch creaked as you stepped on it, the site of so many tear-filled reunions. The door was no longer on its hinges and fell with a bang at your touch, echoing out into the forest and sending the wildlife running. 

You were home. For the last time.

═══════☆═══════

“I’ve got a surprise for you-uuu.” you sang out, hands held behind your back as Arthur stepped the threshold into the abandoned manor. He looked tired, but still managed a sleepy smile as you reached up to kiss him on the cheek. He caught the kiss, snaking a hand around your waist and pulling you closer for a more tender moment. You hadn’t seen each other in 3 days, Arthur off near Strawberry following a lead, so being back encased in his arms felt like home had come back to you.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, gentle smile tugging on his lip, “A surprise? For me? Y’shouldn’t have, darlin’.” The humbleness that appeared whenever you tried to do something nice for Arthur reared its adorable head and you shook your head, one hand still pinned to your back, clutching your gift. 

“Close your eyes!”

“Alright, alright…” Arthur chuckled, holding his hands up in a mock surrender as he closed his eyes. You waved at him a few times, just to be sure, before pulling a single, wonky cigarette out from behind you and tapping Arhur on the chest.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. Nonetheless, his face lit up with pride as he realised what exactly it was that he was looking at.

“You did it?”“I did it!”

“Yes!” He was so excited for you, more so than you’d ever seen him and your heart swelled. This big, scary cowboy, pulling you into a hug and spinning you around because you finally managed to roll something smokeable.

“I’m so proud of you.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and never told you that it fell apart before he had the chance to light the damn thing.

═══════☆═══════

The stairs groaned under your weight miserably, each step feeling more and more likely to collapse. It always was the loudest staircase you’d ever heard, impossibly difficult to sneak around on when trying not to let a whole camp know that you and Arthur were both going upstairs. Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you knew if you started now you’d never make it upstairs. You couldn’t break, because there was nobody left to put you back together.

Every step required a more laboured breath, splinters half-heartedly brushing your fingertips as you traced them over the rotting bannister. You were alone, but the ghosts ran up and down around you, laughing and teasing and smiling and kissing and loving and taunting just how alone you really were. 

A few more strides and you were there. His door was closed and for some reason that made it all that harder to breach the barrier and enter Arthur’s room. A shaky hand reached for the handle, twisting agonisingly slowly and pushing through.

Arthur always, always stole the breath from you, but it was always in the best way. Not like this, not how winded you felt seeing the empty, abandoned room. It was never exactly a palace, Arthur being the first to admit to that, but whenever you used to be there it had this… energy woven into the air. You realized, standing there in that moment, that it wasn’t the place at all. The place was… just that. A place, dying where it stood, rotting and filled with ghosts. The air was clean, but it couldn’t fill your lungs. You needed the fire, built by your soulmate, keeping you warm every night. You needed the cigarette smoke he breathed, tickling your lungs and coating his lip. But it was gone, stamped out and extinguished by God’s great plan. It hurt so much that you laughed, just once, harsh and loud, before your back fell into the wall of Arthur’s bedroom and you slid downwards, your legs finally giving in. Your lungs burned for the cry that just wouldn’t come as you pulled your languid legs towards your chest. 

You hugged your legs close for a second, before the exhaustion reached your arms and they dropped to your sides. One hand hit the damp wooden floorboard, where the other hit something much colder, the ring on your finger clanging against it loudly. The sudden break of agonising silence shocked you for a second, instinct and past trauma screaming at you that you were in a shootout, but you managed to calm down quickly as soon as you figured out the cause of such a volume. 

The floor fell out from under you. Not physically, though you wouldn’t have been surprised, but everything around you seemed to fall when you laid your eyes on the little metal box beside you, rust embellishing the corners and hinges.

Arthur’s tin.

═══════☆═══════

You felt the rise and fall of Arthur’s bare chest, your head resting on it as you tried to gain control of your own breath. The blood was still rushing in your ears as you came back down from the intense high what you’d just experienced with Arthur gave you. Limbs jelly, vision fuzzy, you pressed a lazy kiss to his skin. The fingers mindlessly running through your hair stopped, Arthur in a momentary contemplation that resulted in him reaching over and grabbing a cigarette from the table beside his bed.

“Pass the matches over will ya’, sweetheart? They’re in with my tobacco.” 

You nodded, rolling over to your other side to reach over to your side of the bed, where Arthur’s stash tin sat. While Arthur waited, cigarette hanging limply from the side of his lip, you opened the tin and froze. There was the usual hit of the strong scent of tobacco, the little box of matches, and papers, but those were to be expected. What you didn’t expect to see was a charcoal sketch stuffed in there, staring back at you. It was a remarkable likeness, though you were sure you’d never looked as beautiful as how Arthur had drawn you, laughing in a way that lit up your whole face. The emotion was all too much, sitting in your throat and filling your eyes with wet tears.

“Y’alright? Are they in there?” A concerned voice asked, forcing you to swallow the overwhelming happiness for a moment or two, nodding, handing Arthur the matches and closing the tin. You nuzzled back into his chest, swirling a finger around the little hairs that trailed down his abs.

“I love you, you know that?”“I know. I love you too.”

═══════☆═══════

The tin was so cold in your hands, that cold that you could feel it through your shirt as you held it close to your chest, so hard it was though you were willing more into existence than was there anymore, as if Arthur himself was in there. One last deep breath to find the courage and the tin popped open. The smell of tobacco hit your nostrils and infiltrated your lungs and it hurt. The scent was so undeniably Arthur that it felt so wrong that he wasn’t there with it. He was gone, you knew that, but there was some hope in you that you’d find him hiding in the smoke, just like he always was. 

Clumps of leaves were a little damp in your fingers, attacked by the elements, but you managed to gather enough dry bits and pull out one of the papers. It was cold, but your hands didn’t seem to notice. You had to do this, there was nothing else left. No leads, no job, no Arthur. Just you, alone in an empty room in a lonely house.

Your nimble fingers worked slowly, savouring the ritual of sprinkling in the grind, rolling it up and sealing it, just as he taught you.

That’s it. You got it, sweetheart.

Take your time.

You pictured him, arms closing you in as he guided the paper over with you. 

Just one step at a time.

Soon enough, there was a cigarette wedged between your fingers. 

See? Look at you.

The first few matches were duds, ruined by the water, but eventually you got one lit. You remembered Arthur, cupping his hands over the match as he lit to protect the flame from the weather. You did the same, not trusting the hole where a window once stood proud. 

The tip lit and you breathed in. You coughed. You cried.

The last cigarette of Arthur Morgan. 

You got this, darlin’.

You inhaled smoke. You exhaled ghosts, swirling and wisping around you, caressing your cheek just like he did.

I’m so proud of you.

[musicallistorecs]

pc movie miraz is adept at handling his heir. can i have a headcanon as to why he's so confident with babies pls

when miraz picks up his son from the cradle, he's reminded of a newborn he once held, many years ago.

it nearly cost him everything.

you see, miraz was someone who took the matter of becoming king very seriously, and he knew he was going to be in it for the long haul. he was observant to the king's mannerisms and habits. he noted down the schedules he had, the people he would be around that could make for potential spies. for several months, miraz worked on his scheme; he made sure to adjust his arrangements and organize safety nets to combat just about any possible outcome.

but his calculations never included a nephew.

"miraz! would you like to hold him?" his sister-in-law asks, interrupting his thoughts. he jolts before smiling and raising his hands in surrender.

"i couldn't. i don't know how."

he felt guilty enough for plotting the death of someone's husband. now someone's father?

"i'll show you," she smiles gently, reaching out and pulling him forward. the bundle in her other arm squirms. miraz looks to his older brother for permission (a bad habit), and his heart twists ugly at the pride painted on the father's face. i'm losing time.

miraz sets aside the anger, however, for the sake of the mother and child, and follows his directions dutifully once the king nods back in approval.

a grave, grave mistake. miraz, with the help of the queen's supportive affirmations, finally gathers the courage to pick up prince caspian. he wishes he had the same amount of courage to drop him. instead, his heart disarms his mind from the intrusive thought and succumbs to the heir's divine innocence at a speed that leaves him largely ashamed. he doesn't realize what he's doing with the coo that falls from his lips or the finger that raises itself to wiggle in front of the child prince until he hears his brother and sister-in-law fail to stifle their laughter. in that moment, miraz realizes he could do the most foolish things for this child's happiness.

but what about his own that was so painfully denied for all these years? the question sobers him.

well, miraz was merciful in the ways he knew best. after consulting with professor cornelius (under the guise of intellectual banter) regarding when one's memory begins, he gave his brother and sister-in-law a generous one year with the baby. many telmarines and narnians alike would hardly call it that, but no one understands the agony of overlooking every perfect chance to kill the king the way miraz does. he places their happiness over his as he's done before, and bides his time.

it's the best he could do, he reminded himself, when the servant tried to shake the king awake one morning, the king who, with closed eyes, still held his baby close to him. it's the best he could do, he reminded himself, when he paid the royal apothecary to lie on the autopsy and not mention the poison found on the king's lips. it's the best he could do, he reminded himself, when the queen drove herself mad with grief and disappeared into the woods after the funeral, leaving the castle with only a prince and his uncle as the last markers of royalty.

the plan would have gone a lot better had there been no child involved, miraz acknowledges, but overall it was executed perfectly given the circumstances. the king is gone and his wife has relinquished her claim on the throne, just like that. so why does he feel no satisfaction? he's closer to his goal than ever before.

... ah. that's it, isn't it? he hasn't reached his goal yet.

the child remains.

prunaprismia sings caspian to sleep on the night miraz calls the last search party off. we've looked everywhere. she's gone, sir. with tired eyes, miraz returns to the castle and walks in on her cradling caspian. their eyes meet. he hangs his head solemnly. she looks at him for a moment before turning away. she continues to sing, albeit shakily now.

she's always wanted a child of her own, miraz muses. he does too. wouldn't it be wonderful, if they had a strong and brilliant son who could inherit the kingdom from him? and for a moment, with success a few steps away, he considers taking the current prince from his wife and putting him to sleep the same way as his father, silently and painlessly. he's right there. no one would know.

lightning blinds miraz through the clear window and a roar of thunder startles him. caspian awakes, and his cries ring loud through the castle.

something changes then and there.

miraz doesn't kill him that night nor any of the following nights. slowly years begin to pass by and caspian grows. they go on walks in the garden together. professor cornelius becomes his tutor. prunaprismia teaches him how to braid flower crowns. caspian the tenth is alive for a reason miraz can't quite place.

that's a lie. he knows. he knows the reason why, just can't come face to face with it. the reality is that miraz doesn't have it in him to take caspian's life, even when the opportunity is served to him on a silver platter. and so he waits like he waited before, but for two decades' worth, so that when the time comes, he can tell himself this was the best he could do.

i need air, miraz thinks as he makes his way to the balcony with the bundle in his arms. the ghosts of his past weigh down on his lungs like anchors, and they pull stronger when prunaprismia asks where caspian is. he doesn't look at his heir anymore; shameful as it is, he fears looking down and finding prince caspian the infant in his arms instead, the child orphaned by his uncle for no fault of his own, who, against all odds, grew into something of a son to him over the years.

as the soldiers come back through the gates, miraz gives the heir back to his wife and wonders who he's seizing this throne for.

[musicallistorecs]

aaaaaaah Margo I adored this one-shot!!!! The setting is perfect (thunderstorms at night my beloved), and allows Eloise's wits to shine bright. You write her masterfully! And the best friends to lovers in this... chef's kiss!!!! The parallel between the kiss and the crack of thunder... and all of your writing, in truth! I'm completely enamored!

Lightning (And Her Thunder)

pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: fluff, un-beta'd?, discussions of era-accurate sexism and lack of same sex marriage, a bit of making out

a/n: little miss begs for requests then writes random ideas that strike her is back hello! Sorry not sorry. I kinda love this, it's possibly my fave I've written (also can you tell Im reading pride and prej

tagging: @faye-tale @slut4colinbridgerton @musicallisto

My requests are currently open!

Lightning cracked the midnight sky, illuminating a mischievous glint in Eloise’s eye. You both began to count. 

One.

Tiny laughter lines creased in the corners of her lips.

Two.

A single curl of hair had escaped her sleeping braid and had landed on her cheek. She didn’t seem to have noticed. 

Three. 

Thunder boomed and bounced around the walls of Eloise’s bedchamber. Even though you were expecting it, the sheer volume had you digging your fingernails into your palm. Eloise looked positively enthralled, unbothered by the vibrations in the air.

“See? I told you! Without fail, after the lightning there is thunder.” She beamed, satisfied that her hypothesis had been proved. You scrunched your nose, feigning confusion while you tried not to notice how lovely she looked when she was this excited about something. Eloise always was passionate, no matter what the topic.

“I don’t recall disagreeing with you, El, but I fail to see what has gotten you so worked up about it.” You said honestly, fully expecting the eye roll that came your way. Eloise was, as usual, around three steps ahead of you in her thought process.

“My Mama says that thunder is the noise God makes when he is rearranging his furniture, but how should that be true? It is always after lightning and, besides, how often does one need to rearrange furniture? I should think that He has run out of places to put his writing table and pianoforte.” 

You laughed hard, throwing your head back slightly. Only El could come up with such an image, with her brilliantly unique perspective on the world. Another crack of lightning lit the room, replacing the warm glow of the candlelight with a harsh brightness for a moment. Thunder followed and Eloise held out her hand in a violently I Told You So manner. 

“And if you’re right…” you started, trying your hardest to keep up with your best friend’s somewhat unconventional train of thought. It felt a little like treading deep water, so you held out your arm for support, “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I am struggling to find your point.” 

Another eye roll. It was loving, though, as Eloise’s eye rolls sent your way always were. 

“My point is… well, that perhaps there is more to the world than what our mamas tell us.”  She says it in a hushed tone, as if Violet Bridgerton herself was somehow peeping into Eloise’s rooms, waiting to hand her in for treason to mamas everywhere.

Your features softened as you considered Eloise’s words. You were certain there was more to the world than what your mama told you. You knew it from the scarlet shade your mama’s ears turned when you first asked about babies and where they came from, you knew it from the time you walked into the servants quarters to find your father’s valet and your Governess entangled in each other, completely naked and you knew it from the way your heart fluttered whenever you and Eloise shared that one look that made it difficult to think straight.

“Perhaps you’re right.” You eventually confirmed, leaning back against the foot of Eloise’s bed. You had only intended on visiting your best friend for tea, but when the rain started to hammer on the windows of Number Five, the Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton declared that she paled at the thought of you trying to make your way home that evening and Eloise had been instructed to find you fitting bedclothes. You didn’t mind one bit, of course. Not only did you love spending time with the Bridgertons possibly more than your own family, you were also currently working on a theory that you were irretrievably in love with Eloise Bridgerton. 

Another reason you knew for a fact that life was so much more than what your mama has shared with you.

“Take men, for instance,” Eloise started, leaning back into her headboard and straightening her legs so that yours rested beside hers, “We’re told we are not to be alone with a man because we will be compromised, but why? What can a man do that a woman can’t? We are alone together right now, doesn’t that make us compromised?” 

“Well, no, of course not. Compromising involves marriage, does it not? And we could never marry.” You attempted to produce a substantial addition to the conversation, still somewhat struggling to keep up with Eloise’s fast tongue and mind. 

“Precisely!” Eloise’s excitement in your vague understanding pulled her upright and closer to you, her legs folded neatly beneath her and her knees brushed against yours. 

“I think it has something to do with kissing.” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, though you thought you managed to pass it off quite casually. There was an overwhelming urge to fiddle with your fingers and look down at them, but you managed to fight it, looking Eloise right in the eye. The mischievous glint hadn’t moved. If anything, it had grown brighter. Your theory on your feelings strengthened. 

Eloise scrunched her nose just as she did when she was deep in thought or struggling to get through a page of a particularly difficult journal.

“But that does not stand to reason… you and I could kiss and we would not be forced to marry. You and I could kiss right now and yet our Mamas are perfectly fine with leaving us alone together.”

Your heart pounded. 

You gulped.

“That is true…”

Luckily, Eloise was on a roll and didn’t require any more response. Good, as you didn’t think you had one. Not an appropriate one, at least.

“So it therefore stands to reason that there is something between kissing and marriage that only men can perform upon women.” 

You thought back to the servants you once walked in on, naked and moaning in between passionate kisses they shared. Whatever it was that Eloise was searching for in her monologue, you were almost certain it was something to do with that. How to approach that with your best friend/secret love interest, you hadn’t the faintest idea. 

A pause.

“...And you got all that from lightning?” Your tone betrayed you, confirming to Eloise that you weren’t entirely with her.

“Thunder.” She confirmed, as if it were the most obvious mistake in the world. You both sat for a moment, still inches away from each other. The distant roll of thunder and dull hammering of rain on the window were the only saviours from the silence that grew between you both. It wasn’t an awkward silence, more a silent anticipation. Of what, you weren’t sure.

“I suppose it does bring about many questions…” Your voice was much softer now, almost as if the world had shrunk around you and Eloise since this conversation had started. You subconsciously leant forwards, barely enough to be noticeable by El, “About the sexes… marriage… love.” 

You could have sworn you saw a gasp get trapped in Eloise’s throat, though you couldn’t be sure.

“Love? What of love?” Her voice was also hushed, which was very unusual for Eloise Bridgerton, and she was leaning in, much like a child as they are told the most engaging of fairy tales or secrets of the world.

“Well, my mama told me that a marriage can be built on a foundation of love. My mama and papa are a love match, as were yours, therefore it should signify that love is a contending factor.”

Eloise paused to think and you inwardly congratulated yourself, as causing Eloise to ponder so was a feat rarely accomplished. You were so excited by that fact that you almost didn’t notice the wistfulness swimming around Eloise’s striking eyes, but when you did, your chest tightened. 

“I don’t know how love should signify when women may only marry men.” Even in the intimate, weighted moment, Eloise still managed to huff. “I cannot imagine a single member of the male specimen which I am not related to that I could ever imagine loving.” 

You would have laughed at the insult to mankind if the very same thought did not plague you day and night while your mama forever squawked on about marriage. Of course, you had attended balls and partook in the social season, giving you more than enough stories of boring men with bad breath and wandering eyes to put you off the species entirely. In fact, the only part of these balls and house parties were the moments you stole away with Eloise, giggling and shushing each other as you snuck through the hallways owned by various socialites and dignitaries in search of respite. You never cared for the dancing, awkward and embarrassing, but you always came home with a smile on your face and memories of Eloise’s flushed cheeks as you both hid behind statues in the garden. 

How, then, could you ever set your cap for one of those men, knowing exactly the laughter and pure joy you were missing out on? You feared more than anything the emptiness in the pit of your stomach you were sure you were destined to feel, begat from an unfulfilled life with a stranger. You could never fall in love. Not again, at least. 

“Nor I.” You admitted, all fight for maintaining an impartial disposition disappearing. “I do wonder who decided that women must marry men. I believe I should have a much easier time finding a woman to share my life with…” By the time you had realised what you had said, the words were spoken and there was nothing to be done about it. 

Your hopes that Eloise hadn’t caught on were, of course, in vain, being the smart, capable woman she was. Her jaw was looser than normal and you saw Eloise’s lips part just a hair. Her chest was rising and falling harder than you’d noticed all night. You waited for her to say something, anything, when Eloise was irradiated by the harsh white light of the lightning cracking outside. In your mind, you start to count.

One

Your own lips are parted and your breathing is hitched.

Two

The stray hair was back in Eloise’s face.

Three

You reached over to push the curl behind her ear.

Four

Your eyes hadn’t left Eloise’s, swimming in her wide, expectant gaze, waiting for her to stop you as your hand inched ever closer. 

Five

Nothing was going to stop you. 

That moment lasted an eternity, despite the fact that you counted five seconds between the lightning and the crashing of your lips against Eloise Bridgerton’s. Your fingers dove straight past the curl hanging on her cheek, instead entangling themselves into her thick chestnut hair. It was soft, as were her lips. God, they were soft. You had never kissed anyone before, so had no idea what to do, but instinct on the moment, instinct on what your soul needed at this very moment helped you lead you and Eloise through.

For the first instant, she had stiffened, but quickly relaxed and began to mirror your movements, even taking the lead after a few seconds. Your lips brushed against each other as you pulled at Eloise’s braid to bring her as close to you as possible. The distant thunder still rumbled, but the world around you ceased spinning as you kissed the girl you were destined to love forever. 

She tasted sweet, sweeter than you could have possibly imagined from such a headstrong soul. Trust Eloise to be the perfect… well, everything. Sparks fell from your neck down your spine as her hand found its way to the back of your head to hold you closer as you were her. In that moment, you knew. Everything about this moment meant everything to you, but it also did to her. She wanted you just as much as you wanted her, and if the tug of your hair didn’t tell you that, it was the sweet moan that escaped her as you licked at her lip. 

Before you could capture the moment and hold onto it forever, it was over. Your eyes were open, falling into each other as your foreheads rested upon the other. Eloise’s fingers ran over the skin of your neck and you fought back the emotional weight of what had just happened. 

“I told you…” Eloise breathed, still trying to regain control of her respiration. “There is so much more than our Mamas teach us…”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[musicallistorecs]

Hi there, I hope you are having a great day/night! I just wanted to say that I love the way you write Eloise. You portray her character beyond perfectly! 🥰 I can’t help but be my gay little lesbian self for her witty and sarcastic attitude.

I would be eternally grateful to you if you could please write an A-Z relationship post about her. You wrote such brilliant ones for the bridgerton brothers, I’d love to read one of El.

Relationship A - Z: Eloise Bridgerton x Reader

A/N: Um, of course - I’d love to do that? Thank you so much for giving me an excuse to sit down and actually write this. And also, thank you for your incredibly lovely and kind comments. I know people say it a lot, but it genuinely does mean the world to know my writing is being enjoyed by people - especially when it comes to my fellow LGBTQ+ peeps. This comment has left me smiling all day... Hope you enjoy! 💕

----

a - actions. what sort of things do they do to show they love their s.o? 

She acts at ease with you, which is the clearest sign to all that she loves you. It’s like how a *spicy* cat suddenly acts like an innocent kitten around their owner, whilst simultaneously looking at everyone else like they’re plotting your demise. 

Eloise never usually lets her guard down, not even around her family, which is why it means so much to you that she sits close to you, rather than pushes you away. That she immediately offers you a chocolate from the box she’s eating, whilst swatting her siblings’ hands away. That she listens when you say something, even if she doesn’t agree, rather than making some sassy remark or shutting you down as she does most people. 

She also apologies to you when she’s wrong - something you once heard Colin swear would never happen, not until hell froze over. 

She always supports you, as well. No matter what, she will be there, ready to fight anyone who has upset you or even so much as disagreed with you - consequences be damned. She is ride or die, and her fierce loyalty makes you feel very loved. 

b - beginnings. how did the relationship begin? how has it changed? 

I feel you would intrigue her, when you first met. Whether it’s your shared interests, your outspoken nature, or even perhaps your willingness to call her out … you would have to catch her attention somehow, and be deemed worthy of her time, regardless of whether you met as children or as grown women. 

Also, Eloise probably wouldn’t acknowledge, or even understand that she was falling in love with you. Not at first. It would keep building and growing until she wakes one night and it hits her like a lightning bolt. She can’t live without you - and not just as a friend, but as someone who is her other half. Her partner. Her equal. 

After that revelation, it’s a matter of mustering up the courage to actually tell you how she feels, and allow herself to risk the possibility you do not feel the same. 

c - comfortable. how comfy are they with each other? peeing with the door open or closed? or would they rather keep the mystery? 

Eloise would probably be more reserved at first. After all, old habits die hard and being a Bridgerton - one of seven at that - has made her used to maintaining a sense of privacy, lest she risk her siblings mocking her or exposing her to some embarrassment at the worst possible time.  

It would take her a while to realise she doesn’t have to be that way anymore, nor does she have to maintain the wall she keeps in place to protect herself from the outside world. She can be entirely herself with you and knows you won’t abuse her for it. 

d - dates. do they consider dates to be important? what kind do they prefer? 

Dates are important for Eloise, but in a different way to her siblings. After all, she can spend time with you whenever she chooses, but it’s the thought behind the activity organised that means so much, rather than the activity itself. It’s a chance for you two to show how much you know about one another, and to have a new adventure together- whether it be sneaking your way into a talk about Mary Wollenstonecraft after you told Eloise how much you’d enjoyed reading her work, or letting Eloise teach you how to shoot so she has someone not actually afraid of competing with her (unlike her cowardly brothers - her words).  

e - engagement. how would they propose? who would even pop the question? 

Depending on your gender, you would propose if you were a man - but not until she informed you that she was ready to receive such a proposal. She’d also probably tell you exactly how to do it, even if she knows you’ll likely go rogue and surprise her for the satisfaction of keeping her on her toes. 

However, if you are female, I think it could go either way. You’d definitely discuss marriage, or at least permanent companionship - and again neither of you would pop the question until you knew the other wanted you to. 

f - fundamental. for them, what is the most fundamental part of a relationship? 

Respect. Respect for one another, with neither feeling the inferior or the superior where possible. You are partners in everything and the comfort that brings you both allows your relationship to flourish. It means listening, trusting, and being considerate of one another and your feelings. 

g - gratitude. how do they show their appreciation for you?

As I say, Eloise is a ride or die kind of person and makes no secret of it. She is constantly grateful to have found someone just as committed as she is, and does not take it for granted. She is keen to thank you verbally whenever you do something, and to leave you notes around the place expressing her joy and gratitude that you’re in her life. They’re often in code, in case someone else finds them first - but that’s part of the fun, knowing the two of you have a secret means of communicating.

h - home. a random domestic headcanon. 

After sharing a room - and a house - with her many siblings for so long, Eloise takes great pride in personalising her own space. It’s just another means of exercising the control she has so longed for, which is why you permit her to collect and display whatever ornaments or items she wishes - even if she has questionable taste, as the slightly demonic looking bird (you think it’s a bird) on the mantle piece proves. 

She also enjoys having a house full, so will often invite Penelope and Colin, and Benedict and Sophie, (and all their offspring) to come join you. She enjoys the chaos, and trying to corral them into performing theatricals for the entire gathering (something you all get roped into in some way or another). 

i - infinite. do they believe their love is endless, or is there something that could break it? 

With several siblings, and Penelope, happily married before her, I think Eloise knows how powerful love can be. However, with what happened with her mother and Francesca, I think Eloise knows life can be fleeting and that love should be cherished - even if she spends a long time being afraid of letting herself be vulnerable enough, and risking the possibility of being hurt as a result. 

However, once she finds you, and realises how much better her world is for you being in it, she understands why people let themselves be vulnerable. Her world is better for the love you bring, regardless of how much time you two may have to enjoy it. 

j - jokes. who's the funny one? 

Her. 100%. She’s endlessly sarcastic and has a witty remark prepared at all times - a fact that has caused you to snort into your tea or glass of champagne more than once when in polite company. 

It only gets worse when she and Benedict are in the same room. You half think, in another life, they’d have had a fine career together on the stage. 

k - kiss. how do they kiss? favourite type? 

Eloise secretly loves when you decide to kiss her in a bid to silence her from talking, whether it be in an argument or if she is rambling - as she is prone to do. It’s rather effective, to be honest, and the way she blushes afterwards is adorable. 

When it comes to returning the favour, Eloise prefers giving you short, gentle kisses, normally when she enters or exits a room. They come so easily and naturally, that she does them without even thinking. She enjoys being able to be affectionate with you, and to demonstrate her love for you - especially when the others are around. There is nothing quite so funny as watching her go from being soft when pecking your cheek or lips, only to whirl and sass whichever sibling is vexing her. 

l - longing. who's the clingy one? how are they with long distance? 

Surprisingly, I think Eloise would be the clingy one. We’ve seen in the books how she acts when her family and friends start to marry off and disappear. 

She’s very social, and is the kind of person that, once she loves someone, she loves deeply and whole heartedly. You become important to her, and therefore she struggles if you’re not there. She’d write to you every day if you had to leave her for a while - even if it was only a few days. 

m - marriage. do they wanna get married? 

Depending on your gender this may or may not be a possibility for you. However, Eloise isn’t exactly desperate to race you down the aisle anyway, so it wouldn’t be such an issue at first. True, as time goes by, she’d probably start to envy the way her siblings get to claim their lover as theirs, and finally agrees to getting married. (Ultimately, she can concede that those women that are married do tend to have more social freedoms than unmarried, so if anything it is an advantageous move on her part…or so she says when asked by her siblings…)

She would at least wish commemorate your union with some kind of symbol - be it a ring or just getting to sign her name on a piece of paper. Just something to solidify the fact that she has something special of her own, with someone worthy of her. It doesn't matter whether that's in a chapel in London, or privately between the pair of you in some far off European city. 

n - nicknames. what ones do they like? 

El. Eloise. My love. Just anything not too insipid, nor - heaven forbid - her full name. Just as her mother did when she was small, calling her by her full title is a sure signal she is in, or about to be in, trouble. 

o - over the top. are they ever ott? or are they more low-key? 

She’s a Bridgerton, so of course the answer is yes. She can be loud, dramatic, and doesn’t care what anyone outside of her family thinks of her but that’s part of her charm and one of the many reasons you fell in love with her. She’s also less OTT in comparison to some of her family, but you love them all dearly and treasure the fact that your life will certainly never be boring in their company. 

p - picture. what's their favourite picture of them and their s.o? 

One more relaxed, rather than a formal portrait. It would be something like a casual sketch done by a street artist, of the pair of you, in the park on a warm summer day. It’s the first one Eloise claims she truly recognises herself in, seeing her true self shining through, compared to all the forced and frivolous paintings she’s stood for as part of her family’s wishes. 

q - quintessential. what is one thing they would refuse to compromise in their relationship? what's a deal-breaker for them? 

Respect. Plain and simple. You are both individual people with equally important thoughts and feelings. Together you make a team, but she is one half of that and if you can’t acknowledge that then she has no time for you.

r - rage. who is the most likely to start an argument? 

… Eloise. Do I even need to answer that? She’s just so hot tempered and hard headed that she finds herself starting rows, even if she doesn’t mean to. However, the one thing about her you can always rely upon is her willingness to apologise as soon as she’s cooled down enough to realise her error. She’s also surprisingly forgiving if you do ever start a row.. but you can bet she’s kept a tally of who won on a scrap of paper somewhere. 

s - sickness. who gets sick most often? what are they like when they’re sick? 

I don’t think Eloise would get sick more than a usual amount. However, I feel she is the stubborn kind of person who denies being ill until she physically cannot any longer - especially if one of her siblings is first to remark upon it. Then, she’ll insist nothing is wrong and try to carry on as normal… until she ends up passing out somewhere or almost coughing up a lung. Then she quickly gives in to your tender care and allows you to shepherd her to bed, even if she says she’ll be right as rain by the morning. 

t - tattoo. would they ever get matching tattoos with their s.o, or a tattoo for them? 

No, not given the time period. If this was modern Eloise, then possibly as an act of rebellion. However, not in Bridgerton as it is. 

u - understanding. how understanding are they? or are they a little difficult? 

Eloise can be very difficult, but that doesn't mean she isn't willing to understand something. It might take her a while, and patience on your part, when explaining something or trying to convince her to see something from someone’s else's way of thinking. However, she more often than not will come around and at least consider another way of viewing things - even if she still (deep down) believes her way to be superior or correct. 

v - vases. do they buy flowers?

I don’t think she is overly fond of them herself but if you like them then she’ll have some grown for you in the garden - or in the greenhouse 😅 (I’m trying to avoid a Philip joke here hehe)

w - wandering. do they wanna travel? or immediately settle down? 

Eloise would wish to explore. After all, being with a companion or married both allow women greater freedoms - something she’s longed for. So you can bet she has her bags packed as soon as possible, ready to explore and see the world far away from London and the rigidity of the Ton. That, and no one will know who you are which is the ultimate freedom of all.  

x - ex. how many exes do they have? any horror stories? 

Eloise doesn’t really have horror stories as she doesn’t really have any exes. True, she has tales of the suitors she has sent packing, most of which are highly amusing (especially when Penelope or Benedict re-enact the tales for you). She also has Theo (if you’re going off the tv series) but I feel you’d understand the pain that that brought her, as her first genuine romantic relationship. It also showed her that it was alright to love and that there are people out there worthy of risking the hurt for. 

y - you. favourite thing about their partner? 

Your spirit. Let’s be real, you'd have to have a strong one to engage with Eloise Bridgerton, but also the world in general. She loves how you aren't afraid to stand up to her or tell her when she’s in the wrong, just as you are willing to fight off anyone who has anything remotely bad to say about Eloise or yourself. You know who you are and you know what you want from the world and you aren't afraid to go out there and take it. 

z - zeal. how excitable are they? who's the calm one?

Oh, Eloise is the excitable one - even if she’d deny it. She’s a veritable ball of energy and doesn't seem able to stay still for very long. There’s just too much to see and do, and so little time. 

Also, once you meet the rest of the Bridgerton bunch you realise that it isn't that much of a surprise really. If anything, she’s one of the calmer of the lot... and that’s saying something. 

[musicallistorecs]

My Future Is You (Steve Harrington)

summary: you had overheard the conversation between steve and nancy in the rv however later on you find out, you didn't hear all of it.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: a bit of cursing, talk of the future, a whole lot of fluff

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

author's note: that scene between nancy and steve was wholesome but I always had in mind what would happen if there was another girl who overheard them talking about it. I really hope you enjoy it, if you do please comment, like & reblog. it's much appreciated.

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“Six kids, huh? That’s quite a lot Harrington.”

Steve made his way out of the RV, a confused expression gracing his face as he closed the door behind him and followed you and the rest of the group into the arms store. You took a quick look over your shoulder, giggling lightly once you saw Steve’s brown eyes looking at you like a puppy that had no idea what its owners wanted from him.

“I kind of overheard what you and Nancy talked about while we were driving here.”, you told him honestly while you made your way through the aisles of the store, always on the lookout for something useful for the fight ahead. 

Steve’s eyes slightly opened wider, his eyebrows raised while he nodded. He didn’t think anyone would have listened to what he and Nancy had talked about, yet here you were. But who could blame you? You were sitting right behind them, and everyone else was indulged in a conversation of their own hence there was no way for you not to listen in on their talk. 

The young man next to you let out a quiet “oh”, making you stop in your tracks. You turned to him as guilt was written all over your face however, Steve quickly shook his head. 

“It was just something we talked about to pass the time. Nothing too serious.”, he explained, putting his hand on your shoulder while he squeezed it gently. He sent you a gentle smile before he left you alone and walked over to a rag full of clothes. He finally wanted to get rid of his wet and dirty clothes, and although he knew that the store didn’t have the newest fashion at the store, he knew it would have to do. 

You let out a soft sigh, still feeling slightly guilty about listening in on their conversation. You could have sworn you had seen the sincerity in Steve’s eyes when he talked about his future. He was so passionate about it, and yet he told you it was just something to talk about to pass the time. Did you believe him? Not really, but for now, you had to. 

At the end of an aisle, you found Nancy who was checking out a few of the guns that were displayed on the wall. You had no idea nor interest in weapons, you never had, but ever since you got involved with the upside down, you knew it was wise to have some sort of weapon close to you, especially when you decided to go there one more time and kill the monster who was behind it all. 

“Did you find anything?” you asked your friend once you stood beside her, your eyes looking at all the guns in front of you, your mouth slightly agape. 

Nancy shook her head while she had one of the guns in her hands, turning it from side to side, even holding it up to see if it would be good to use, however she put it down again and asked the seller for a new one, a bigger one. 

You slightly turned around, your back leaning against the counter while you let your eyes wander around the store, instantly spotting Robin in one of the aisles while Steve made his way toward her. It seemed like he had already found some new clothes to wear. You couldn’t help but let out an almost inaudible sigh, but Nancy still heard it and turned her head in your direction, her eyebrows lightly raised as she waited for you to say something. 

You stayed quiet and watched Steve’s and Robin’s interaction, which caught Nancy’s attention as well before she turned to you with a knowing smile on her lips. She nudged you lightly with her elbow, trying to get your attention. 

“Everything alright between the two of you?” she asked you out of curiosity. Before she could ask any more questions, the seller handed her a new gun.

Your head turned to the side, watching Nancy interact with the weapon while all you did was shrug your shoulders. 

Were you and Steve alright? Sure. You’ve been friends for quite a long time and helped each other out in every possible situation. You always talked about everything, and now all of a sudden, he wasn’t telling you the truth anymore. You knew you had to ask Nancy about the conversation they had, even though you knew it was wrong. Were you overreacting a bit? Maybe, possibly … obviously.

“Can I ask you something, Nancy?", you asked your best female friend. 

The young female nodded, her eyes focused on you for a bit until their attention went back to the gun, yet you knew that she was listening. 

“I feel stupid to say this, but I heard what you and Steve talked about in the RV. You know, about his future and the six kids, which is, without a doubt, quite a lot. And I wanted to talk to him about it because it’s interesting to know. After all, he’s also one of my closest friends, but he said that it was nothing and that it was only something to talk about to pass the time, but I don’t believe him. You don’t just talk about something like this to pass the time, and he also seemed so passionate about it, and I am rambling again.”, you said, ending your rambling session with a slight pout on your lips. 

Once Nancy noticed what you were talking about, she put the gun on the counter again, an amused smile gracing her lips while she listened to every word you had to say, giggling lightly once she saw the pout on your lips. She also saw the desperation in your eyes. You really wanted to know what the whole conversation had been about.

“Oh, y/n.”, she started, shaking her head, amused as she took a step towards you, placing a hand on your arm only to squeeze it gently. 

“You didn’t hear the end of our conversation, did you? And he probably didn’t say anything about it.”, she mumbled. 

Nancy’s blue eyes looked over to Steve and Robin, who were still having their own conversation before her blue eyes darted back to you. You looked like a lost puppy or a puppy that did something wrong but had no idea what it was.

“Yes, he really said that he wanted to have six kids. Absolutely insane, I know.”, she started, making both of you laugh lightly, which caught some people’s attention, but they quickly went back to what they were doing before they were interrupted.

“Steve did talk about what he wanted in the future, but he also talked about the person he wanted to have this future with.”

When these words left Nancy’s lips, your eyes went wide. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, the pulse reaching your ears. You were nervous to find out who it was, although you already had suspicions about who it could be.

You tried to calm yourself down, nodding your head as you looked down at your shoes. You absentmindedly bit your bottom lip, preparing yourself to get your heart crushed in just a few seconds. 

“It’s you, you idiot.”, Nancy suddenly said, a giggle leaving her lips as she playfully pushed you away from her. 

Your head shot up, your eyes wide once more as you looked at her in disbelief.

“You’re kidding. We’re friends, and you and he have history, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you again, so no, it’s not me.”, you argued, shaking your head. 

Nancy immediately put her hands on your shoulders, stopping you from talking.

“Trust me, he mentioned your name. You’re delusional if you think otherwise because I have seen the way he looks at you, and it’s different. Trust me. Steve has liked you for a while now, and I know when this is all over, he will ask you out on a date. He’s been meaning to do this, ever since the Starcourt fire, but that dimwit never found the courage to do so.”, she told you reassuringly.

Your head turned to the aisles where you knew Steve and Robin were, quickly noticing that Steve was already watching you. His eyebrows were raised, and worry graced his face as he looked at the two of you. You lightly shook your head, returning your attention to Nancy. 

“Can you please tell me what is wrong with you? You haven’t talked to me ever since we ran out of that store.”, Steve said worriedly, sitting down next to you. 

After you all found out that Jason was at the arms store, you quickly left, sprinting to the RV and hastily driving off. 

Now here you were on a field outside of Hawkins where everyone prepared themselves for the fight. You found yourself a spot a bit farther away from everyone, wanting to be alone with yourself and your thoughts until Steve came over.

You looked into his brown eyes, biting the inside of your cheek lightly before you shook your head. 

“It’s nothing, Steve. All good.”, you stated quietly however, Steve wasn’t having any of it, hence he sat down right next to you. He took your hand in his, shocking you in the process.

“Nothing is good. Please talk to me, y/n. I feel like it was me who did something wrong because when you talked to Nancy and then looked over at me, you looked like you’ve just seen a ghost or something.”

Should you tell him the truth? Should you tell him that you knew he talked about you in the RV? On the one hand, you knew that he deserved to know, but on the other hand, you feared what could happen if you told him about your conversation with Nancy. 

You let out a sigh, your hand still in his. Your eyes gazed around the field, watching your friends prepare themselves and the weapons for what was about to come, and that was when it hit you. 

What if you wouldn’t make it out of the upside down? What if something happened to you or worse to Steve? You knew that you would feel guilty for the rest of your life if you wouldn’t tell your best friend that you knew that he had feelings for you and that you were feeling the same way.

“Nancy told me that it wasn’t just a conversation to pass the time.”, you admitted, your eyes swiftly looking up to see Steve’s reaction however, his face stayed blank. 

“You really want those six kids.”, you said, giggling lightly. “You really want that future you talked about. And … Nancy also told me who you want to have by your side in that future.”

There it was. You said it. And by the look on his face, you knew it finally clicked inside his head.

Steve wanted to pull his hand away, but you held it tightly. You even wrapped your other hand around his. You just didn't want him to let go.

“You don’t get to walk away now, Harrington, because I know you want to. You usually do in such situations but not this time.”

A gentle smile placed itself on your lips while you moved closer to Steve, who tensed up slightly but relaxed again after you squeezed his hand softly.

“She said you have been trying to ask me out on a date. You’ve been trying for a couple of months, and don’t you dare look embarrassed. It’s not, Steve. It’s actually quite adorable.”, you said encouragingly. 

“I don’t think you have noticed, but I really like you too, Steve. Why do you think I want to spend so much time with you? Why do you think I come to Family Video at least once a day? To find a good movie? Hell no, your movies are shit.”, you said, making the young man next to you chuckle lightly. 

“No, It’s because I want to spend time with you ... and maybe Robin but mostly you.”, you said jokingly. 

Steve now had a soft smile on his lips, feeling less embarrassed about knowing that you knew about his future plans. 

“I like you, Steve, a lot. And I see my future with you by my side as well, but maybe we could change six kids to three? Maybe four?”

Your best friend couldn’t help but laugh out loud now, catching almost everyone’s attention around you, especially Nancy’s, who was feeling proud for knowing that she had told you the truth about their conversation. Steve would have never said anything to you, and she knew that sometimes you had a bit more courage inside of you. 

“Maybe we can talk about it on a date? I mean, after all of this is done?”

“I would love that.”, you said sincerely.

Bright smiles were on both of your lips while you intertwined your fingers with one another. You noticed Steve leaning forward. Your breath lightly hitched once you felt his lips on your forehead, yet you enjoyed the warmth, feeling the blush creeping up on your cheeks. 

When he wanted to lean back again, you immediately wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck while you felt his hands on your back, caressing it softly. 

“We’ll make it out of there and I promise you, I will take you out on that date.”

[musicallistorecs]

to be loved and to be in love

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Word count: 5044 words

You had been best friends with Benedict for as long as you can remember, your relationship forged during the years your mothers were preoccupied with the youngest children and your fathers were busy instilling leadership qualities in the eldest children. It seemed to be a perfect match for a future marriage, or so everyone had thought. However, your first season had come and gone and Benedict had not been as active a participant as his mother had hoped he would be. You had left London betrothed to someone else and that was that. But news about your disastrous betrothal reaches Aubrey Hall in the spring. And it changes everything.

A/N: Comments always appreciated! This is friends to lovers (standard fare from me, lol) but also really heavy on Bridgerton family back and forth because I can’t get enough of it.

Afficher davantage

[musicallistorecs]

ope there goes gravity

a/n: snap back to reality, ope there goes gravity When I tell you I've wanted to re-write this scene yet it's Bridgerton!sis who falls off since 2021

summary: Y/N Bridgerton was not in the gardens at the Trowbridge Ball. She had no idea of what transpired. Yet, somehow, she ends up in the middle of a duel, in an empty park, at dawn. And it's all Daphne's fault.

Bridgerton House was quiet.

Most of the staff had gone to bed - only Humboldt and Mrs Wilson remained awake, awaiting the return of those in attendance at the Trowbridge Ball.

Y/N Bridgerton - the sixth youngest in the Bridgerton family - was fast asleep in her bed, blankets tucked around her, candle gently flickering in the draft.

As much as she longed for the days when she could spend more time with her elder brothers and dance the night away, she was never a night owl. Y/N was almost always in bed before nine and asleep by eleven.

Everything was quiet in Bridgerton House. Except for a gentle yet frantic knocking on Y/N's bedroom door. It was just loud enough for the young girl to hear and she blearily blinked awake, half wondering if something miraculous had happened at the ball that Daphne simply could not wait to tell her about.

"Yes, I'm coming," Y/N muttered, sliding out of bed and grabbing her shawl. She wrapped her shawl around her as she opened her bedroom door, staring in surprise at the dishevelled state of her eldest sister.

"Daff, what -"

"Anthony is to duel Simon at dawn," Daphne announced, marching into Y/N's bedroom.

Y/N blinked, slowly processing the information. "Pardon me, what?"

Daphne sighed, running a shaking hand through her messy hair. "I kissed Simon."

"You kissed Simon?!"

"Well, I kissed him... and then his hands may have strayed away from where is socially acceptable."

Y/N looked at her sister, frowning ever so slightly. She was certain she knew what Daphne was alluding to - Y/N had talked with her lady's maid about sex and had learnt more than her mother would ever tell her.

"Daff did he..."

"No! Lord, no. I wanted it and it was entirely heat of the moment in the gardens -"

"How does this lead to Anthony duelling the Duke?"

"He found us. In the gardens. And he saw my... breast."

Y/N's mouth fell open. She stared in shock at her sister - the sister who had always followed society's rules, who had always been practically perfect.

"I know, it is bad -"

Y/N snorted, a bubble of laughter escaping her lips. Daphne instantly fell silently, glaring at her.

"Sorry," Y/N said, pressing her hand to her mouth. "I know it's not funny. I just... I am not quite sure how else to react."

"I have made a complete mess of things," Daphne moaned, sitting down on Y/N's bed with a dramatic flop. "I am in such a tangle, Y/N."

"Can I ask you something?" Daphne nodded. "Why did you come to me?" At her sister's confused gaze, Y/N elaborated. "Well, Colin is downstairs, is he not? So, why come to me instead of him? He is probably of more help."

"But he does not understand, fully, the extent of the situation." Daphne inhaled deeply, laying her hand's palm up in her lap. "I was caught, by my oldest brother, in a compromising position. He is now challenging the Duke of Hastings to a duel - a duel that will likely end with one person dead and the other fleeing the country. It will forever ruin two families and their lives. I cannot let that happen."

"Did anyone see you? In the gardens, I mean."

Daphne opened her mouth to immediately answer but found herself pausing. "Cressida. Oh, god, Cressida saw."

"What?"

"She made a snide comment, one that I brushed aside because Simon had just rejected me and a duel had been announced, but she said something about the gardens."

"Daphne, if Cressida saw, no matter the outcome of this duel, the ton will still find out."

"What do we do?" Daphne asked, looking at her younger sister with such helplessness, that Y/N's heart ached.

Y/N walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out a dark blue riding habit, throwing it onto the bed. "We get changed," she said, undoing her hair from its braids, "and we go downstairs and demand Colin takes us to where the duel is to take place."

"You are coming too?"

"Of course," Y/N said as if Daphne had just asked the stupidest question in the world, "I would never leave my sister to stop a duel herself."

Daphne stood up from the bed and flung herself at Y/N, hugging her tightly. "Thank you," she said, sniffing quietly.

"Come on, we can hug later," Y/N told her, giving her a tight squeeze.

Colin, it turned out, was easily manipulated once told the severity of the situation. Even though he tried to stop Y/N from coming - because, really, did he have to babysit two sisters? - Daphne put her foot down and insisted she came for backup.

What sort of backup a seventenn-year-old girl was going to provide against two grown men and two guns, Y/N wasn't entirely sure. She was simply glad to be involved in the drama for once.

In the early morning, just as the sun began its ascent into the sky, the three Bridgerton's mounted their respective horses and took off for Hyde Park. Daphne urged her horse ahead of everyone's, galloping through the streets.

Y/N knew her sister was blinded by panic and anger. It wasn't hard for her, as a woman, to understand why. No matter what happened in the next few hours, Daphne's life would be changed forever.

As the sun began to rise - just peeking over the edge of the fields - Daphne was leaving Colin behind. They'd entered Hyde Park - which was thankfully empty - and Y/N was struggling to catch her sister up.

In the far distance, she could see five figures standing around a copse of trees - two were slowly walking away from one another.

Daphne, somehow, urged her horse to go even faster.

"Daphne!" Y/N yelled, her words swept away by the wind rushing past her.

Her sister was about to ride straight into the middle of a duel. Y/N wasn't quite sure what she was hoping to achieve - Daphne would end up either getting shot at or end up falling off her horse.

To be fair, Y/N wasn't entirely honest as to what she herself was hoping to achieve by catching up to Daphne. She couldn't simply yank Daphne's horse to a halt and force her to walk into the duel.

They'd almost reached the copse of trees. Y/N could see Simon and Anthony slowly beginning to turn to face one another. Daphne was riding straight between the two trees and Y/N urged her horse to go even faster.

Her horse, seeming to notice her urgency and her fear, pushed itself even harder, eating up the ground beneath it.

Daphne rode into the middle of the duel, yanking her horse up. "Stop!"

Someone fired their gun, the sound echoing out across the empty fields.

Y/N was not sure what happened next. Because one minute she was yanking her horse to a sharp stop, trying to avoid running into Daphne, and the next she was falling, the world spinning and turning around her.

Anthony had Daphne a second too late. He pressed the trigger, firing his bullet at Hastings. His eyes widened as Daphne rode through the duel, her horse skidding to an abrupt halt on the other side. Y/N, however, in an attempt to not ride into her sister, yanked her horse to a stop in the middle of the duel,

As Anthony's gun fired and the sound cracked out through the silent morning.

Horses neighed, rearing up in fear. Anthony watched as his younger sister - the one he'd always had a soft spot for - lost her balance and was de-saddled by her horse.

"Y/N!" Anthony yelled, his eyes widening in absolute horror as his sister fell, her head smacking the solid ground.

He ran towards his sister, vaguely registering Simon catching Daphne's horse by its reins and helping her down. Anthony threw his pistol to the side, falling to his knees beside Y/N as Benedict sprinted over to them, joining Anthony at Y/N's side.

"Sister," Anthony said, his voice laced with panic as his hands roamed over her body, every worst-case scenario running through his head. "Hastings!" He yelled, glancing over his shoulder at the man. "Is she alright?"

"Fine, worry about her!" Daphne yelled back, answering for herself.

"Y/N?" Anthony murmured, leaning down, brushing her hair back from her face. "Sister?"

It felt as if an eternity passed as Anthony waited, watching his sister intently. He let out a gust of air in relief as his sister's eyes flickered open, her gaze foggy as she tried to work out where she was and why she was on the floor.

"Oh, thank God," Anthony said, leaning back.

Y/N sat up, brushing her hair back from her face. She looked up and over at her sister, who was watching with concern but looked in relatively one piece.

"Oh, you alright over there?" Y/N yelled, kneeling on the ground.

"You rode into the duel!" Daphne yelled back, marching over to her.

"I was trying to stop you from getting shot!"

"Clearly, I was fine!"

"Clearly!"

"Ladies!"

The two sisters turned their heads sharply to look at Anthony - who was staring at them both as if they were mad.

"Are you two done?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. They nodded. "Good. Now, what the hell were you thinking?"

"I could not let you kill a man," Daphne said, looking at her brother. "Not when it would cause more harm than good."

"Why did you bring Y/N?"

"I needed someone who would understand my side," Daphne explained. "Besides, we were not unchaperoned."

"What - Colin?!"

"What was I meant to do? They were going to come with or without me."

Anthony looked like he might combust. "Oh dear -"

"I need a moment with the Duke," Daphne said, talking over Anthony as he swore. "Please."

"Daphne, I cannot -"

As Anthony went off, Daphne cast her sister a desperate gaze. Y/N raised her eyebrows, questioning whether what Daphne as asking was strictly necessary. Daphne practically stamped her foot in reply and Y/N huffed.

Their entire silent conversation happened in under ten seconds. Anthony was mid-rant about Hastings and Y/N sighed.

"Oh, I feel really dizzy," Y/N said suddenly, trying to sound genuine.

Y/N stumbled back a step, her back hitting Anthony's chest. Knowing he was directly behind her, Y/N let her legs fold beneath her and Anthony scrambled to catch her.

Daphne gave Y/N the smallest smile before turning to face Simon, grabbing his wrist and pulling him aside.

"Sister, sister, what's wrong?" Anthony asked, his voice frantic.

Benedict knelt down next to Y/N and tilted his head slightly, completely unconvinced of her entire act. He was always able to read her like an open book.

"Sorry, I think I sat up too fast," Y/N replied, pushing herself into a sitting position, and patting Anthony's hand.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," Anthony muttered, running a hand through his hair. He looked to his left, seeing Daphne talking to the Duke, a hand on his elbow. . "Daff - what are you doing?!"

Daphne turned to him, grimacing slightly. "TheDuke and I are to be married."

That shut Anthony up.

Y/N was desperately trying not to fall asleep on Colin. Her eyes were ever so heavy and it was getting hard to not close them. Colin glanced at his sister, nudging her foot with his.

"You can go for a nap," he said quietly, not wanting to interrupt their mother, who was mid-flow about wedding preparations.

"No, no, if I do mother will think it weird," Y/N replied. "I rarely nap unless ill."

"Or exhausted."

"Unless I have a reason to be exhausted."

"Just say you stayed up late talking to Daphne about the engagement."

"Which will then lead to her asking me why I acted as if I did not know this morning." Y/N yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. "I shall simply proclaim a headache once she has finished talking and go for a nap afterwards."

"It will be bedtime by then."

"Precisely my point."

Colin rolled his eyes, picking up a biscuit from the tray next to him. "It was incredibly brave what you did this morning."

"Oh, hardly."

"I do not see any of the Featheringtons running into the middle of a duel for their sibling."

"Because they do not like one another," Y/N countered. "I happen to be rather fond of our dear sister."

"Still. You did not have to get involved."

Y/N sighed softly. "What I do not think many men understand is how marriage affects not only the woman involved but the other women in her life. Should Daphne have not ended the duel engaged to the Duke, then myself and all our sisters would have been ruined. I went, to not only protect Daphne but to protect myself and my own future."

Colin looked deep in thought for a moment as he munched on his biscuit, chewing slowly. "Does not make you any less brave," he eventually replied, swallowing. "Knowing you needed to fight for yourself as well as your sister's."

Y/N raised her eyebrows in a swift movement. She slumped against the sofa, clasping her hands on her stomach and closing her eyes. "Somebody has to. Everyone else is too wrapped up in their own damn lives."

She kept her eyes shut after her statement, trying to get a power nap in whilst her mother nagged Daphne about flower arrangements. Colin didn't quite realise Y/N had completely fallen asleep until her head slumped onto his shoulder and he felt her curl up into his side, using him as a pillow.

Colin glanced down at her, trying not to move, the smallest of smiles on his face.

"Now, Y/N, dearest - Colin, is she asleep?"

Colin jumped slightly, startled by his mother's sudden appearance by his right shoulder. "Uh... yes."

"Why is she asleep? She said she slept well last night."

"Ah, well, that might be my fault," Colin lied, "I kept her up telling her all about the ball. She asked and I fear I went on a bit in my description."

Violet didn't look entirely convinced. To be honest, she had had a look of suspicion on her face since that morning - a look all of her elder children were trying to ignore.

"Alright, then. Maybe take her up to her bedroom if she is truly that tired, though, Colin - let her have a decent rest. Now, Daphne, your gown..."

Colin turned away from his mother and looked back down at Y/N - who was still snuggled up into his side. He didn't move. He simply shifted ever so slightly, picked up another biscuit, and bit into it, content to sit there for as long as he had a decent supply of biscuits.

[musicallistorecs]

Bestie, drop your favourite Bridgerton fanfics. The people deserve to know!!!

alright *cracks knuckles* let's do this

for reasons wretched and divine by penny_loaf - time loop au compliant with show canon. this is my favorite bridgerton fic, i reread it all the time. ao3 says i've visited this 22 times and that seems right lol i just love some time fuckery and this author nails their characterization. i rec their other fics too but this is my fav <3

nothing breaks our wave, my love by superoverdramatic - s2 through anthony's eyes/character study. ripped my heart right out of my chest and stomped on it. ppl who write anthony well my beloved. another one i've reread a bunch

sidelines by ramarro - "Kate sees Anthony's bumble profile and finds it very pretentious. It does not stop her from obsessively drawing his arms though. Until he starts dating her sister." literally fic of all time i LOVEEEE this one SO much edwina gets a lot of respect (which is rare with bridgerton fic authors </3) and the way her and kate's relationship is written is just chef's kiss. peak kate and anthony being idiots about how stupidly attracted to each other they are. GOD i love this one

three cities by ramarro - ramarro my beloved. kate and anthony have a holiday fling and also meet across a few countries. imagine me reading this and smiling like a fucking idiot cause that's what this one does to me

i'd be your little spoon by magicalmenagerie - [inhales] AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. the one in which bagwell is a woman with Knowledge and edwina wants her to Teach. literally edwina fic of all time. i also rec this author's other fics!!

the universe laughs at anthony bridgerton by teabrigadier - modern soulmate au where the first words your soulmate will say to you appear on your arm and both kate and anthony are convinced they have assholes for soulmates. my feel good fic <3 there is also a follow up which is kate's pov which is also great

june, after dark by stutteringpeach - edwina drags kate to daphne's wedding at her country estate with her family. hijinks ensue. literally not a single flaw in this one. it is everything i want in a modern au i was vibrating when it wasn't completed because i wanted to read it SO bad lmao another one i've reread a bunch

engagement series by burnerraccount - show canon compliant for after s2 ends. before they get married kate and anthony have an Agreement. perfect characterization and the smutty parts don't make give me secondhand embarrassment like most fics do <3

love, spoke this silence by ninzied - i'm recommending this one bc it's the most recent but really i am telling you to read all the bridgerton fics by this author <3 by far my favorite bridgerton fic writer. i can't say enough good things u have to trust me you must read all of them

it had to be you by zegabz - when harry met sally au. need i say more

the little things you do by zegabz - flower shop au - kate finds a bouquet she put together abandoned. talented showstopping amazing etc

1, 2 step by zarahjoyce - expanded versions of show canon + some canon compliant stuff + some aus. yes i'm recommending them all i don't think zarahjoyce has one even average bridgerton fic they are all great

the story of us by irishseeker - THE kathony uni au because i said so. i consider this one a bit of a fandom classic lmao you've probably already been recommended it but here it is again <3 i love it so much i couldn't not rec it

come away with me by floralumbrella - mostly show canon compliant smut lol. but good smut!

operation: barista by starkswinterfelling - how does one fic series so flawless exist. idk but i'm glad it does. THE coffee shop au because i once again say so.

i could be your heron blue sky (wrap me in celadon and gold) by krewlak - keeping myself from shouting MILF FIC MILF FIC MILF FIC rn. kate marries an earl for security, but after he dies she and her family relocate from india to find edwina a match. i don't always read incomplete fics bc it ruins my life but i have to rec this one bc it's just so thoughtfully written!!!! love love it

hidden by ironsidee - once again, kind of a fandom cornerstone, but i had to rec it still bc it's SO good. kate and anthony are childhood sweethearts that grow apart but are still caught in an arranged marriage. a fuckin banger of a fic kind of the only one that is book canon that i really like

a supercut of us by joekavaliers - AAAAAAAAAA this one is so up my alley it's ridiculous. basically a buzzfeed unsolved au lmao where kate is ryan and anthony is shane. well except for the fact they kiss a little. also one of my go to rereads <3

do you regret asking yet <3 i will stop

[musicallistorecs]

omg Noe the mystery of this!!! okay, first of all I really loved how detailed the dream in the first segment was: toeing the line of reality, blurring the limits of truth--so clever! And by the way, I love how you wrote the love scene. You can tell how enraptured Ernest is with that mysterious woman, he's practically putty in her hands. I love me a good 'man go stupid over woman leagues above him' moment, not gonna lie <3 and then!! All the mystery! And Lady Joanna's appearance! I should definitely like to know more - I'll have to read all of TCH asap, because I just loooove the concept of historical fantasy; fantastical/supernatural elements in the D&D setting? YES, please. Absolute favorite. And last but not least!! Mr. Chambers is best boy. Have my whole heart pLEASE.

The Fall And Rising Of A Rose

A/N: I’m struggling to bring myself to write the current chapters of The Cursed Heiress, so I decided to write some one-shots that gives boosts to some small plots I do not have the chance to explore in the main series. I’ll start with some characters we’ve met/will meet and sometimes the characters before and after meeting Joanna. I reccomend listen to Dynasty by Miia while reading for better experience! 

Summary: A visit of Mr. Sinclaire to the house of ill repute changes a poor woman’s life…forever. 

1813

Ernest was certain that this time he was at a bed, though he could not tell which one was. There was a woman, one whose face he could not see. She was naked and giggling, such a pleasant sound that made his heart race rather rapidly. She had some scars on her chest, though he couldn’t identify them because the vision was blurry. Her hand brushed his chest as she mounted atop him, her smile the most enthralling thing he’s ever seen, her rich lips now swollen and red, probably his fault. He didn’t know what was happening. He knew he was in the dream, but the Ernest in there wasn’t quite him. It was someone more different than him, though he couldn’t tell the difference between them. The woman leaned to kiss him and he did too, meeting her partway, her lips tasting like morning breath and blueberries from his garden back at Ledford Park. It felt incredible and his version of the dream hummed in delight.

“Mmm, we should do this more oftenly, my queen.” He mused.

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