#Cousin Teresa

[klinefelterrible]

For my mutuals who are like a distant family to me

hello beloveds ☺️

[flowerwreaththings]

Royal Summer 2024 Photo Challenge

Day 9: Favourite summer-themed photo(s) of the Grand Ducal Family of Luxembourg

[sirianasims]

Chapter 44.2

Summer is coming to an end, and the warm glow of the early evening bathes everything in gold, casting long shadows and making everything seem almost dreamlike. The sturdy planks of the bridge creak slightly as we cross, the sound blending with the gentle thuds of hooves against wood and the faint rush of the river below. In the distance, the constant song of the waterfalls form a faint, rumbling backdrop.

The sound of Serafina’s hooves changes as we leave the bridge and turn onto the cobbled stone road that leads to the estate. On evenings like this, I love Tartosa so much it makes my heart ache, and I wonder why I ever leave. The air smells sweeter here than anywhere else, a hint of saltwater mingling with the ever-present lavender and the more subtle, grassy notes of the earth itself.

I slow Serafina down as we reach the large mosaic that marks the crossroads. The colour has faded slightly with time, but the motif is as clear as ever, two intertwined wedding bands surrounded by the waves of the Tartosan sea. My great-grandparents commissioned it for an anniversary years before I was even born, a tribute to their love story carved into the very ground.

Serafina tosses her head impatiently, the reins tugging on my hands and pulling me out of my reverie. I feel her muscles tense up under the saddle, and she paws at the ground with her foreleg, restless.

“Sorry, girl,” I murmur. “We’ll go back to your baby now.”

I dismount as soon as we reach the paddock, stroke her neck and thank her for the ride. The light sheen of sweat on her coat is warm against my palm, but her focus is not on me anymore. Her tail swishes in agitation as a delicate, high-pitched nicker can be heard from the stables and I quickly open the gate and lead her through.

My uncle Gio waits for us in the doorway, brushing bits of hay off his gloves. Behind him, Serafina’s foal whinnies excitedly at the sight of its mother.

“There you are. How did it go?” He takes the reins from my outstretched hand and lets the impatient mare into her stall.

“She did great, she’s definitely getting her strength back. I let her gallop along the coast for a bit, you should have seen her. She was practically flying.”

“That’s my girl,” Gio mumbles softly, almost to himself. “Thanks for taking her out, she needed the exercise. As much as Sofia tries, she can’t ride all of them every day and school starts back up soon. How long are you staying this time?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Another week, maybe more. I need a break from everything, some time to figure out what to do next.”

“And a week or two is enough for that?”

“It’s a start. I’ll be fine, you know me, Gio.”

“Exactly, I know you. Well, tell your aunt I’ll be in soon, I’m almost done here.”

“You don’t want any help?”

He laughs, waving me off.

“You were always more useful in the kitchen, my boy.”

As soon as I open the heavy front doors of the main house, I’m met with the sound of laughter. Aunt Teresa is wiping tears of mirth from her eyes as they both turn to me.

“Hi mum, Teresa. What’s so funny?”

My mother lights up at the sight of me, and I hurry over to give her a hug before she can attempt to stand.

“Paolo, did you happen to see Giovanni out there? Is he coming in too?”

“Soon, zia, he’s just making sure the vineyard doesn’t run out of fertiliser.”

My mother laughs, giving my arm a feeble squeeze with her left hand. “I don’t think that’ll happen any time soon.”

“Well, we better not take any chances, mum. The entire Romeo fortune could be at stake, and I’m currently unemployed.”

Teresa shakes her head, smiling, then calls towards the stairs. “Sofia? Come down, please.”

Seconds later, my youngest cousin skips down the stairs.

Her older sisters, Laura and Anna, both moved out years ago, but Sofia was a late surprise addition, still just a baby when I first moved to Del Sol Valley. To Gio’s endless joy, Sofia is just as obsessed with the horses as he is.

“Sofia, you can do your piano lesson while I make dinner. Is that alright with you, Rose?”

My mother nods and carefully gets up and walks to her usual chair by the piano. Her steps are agonisingly slow but dignified, and I resist the urge to help her, instead distracting myself by picking a few white horse hairs off my shirt.

Teresa disappears into the kitchen, and I opt for simply taking the shirt off before following her.

A copper pot simmers on low heat on the old stove. Teresa’s kitchen was always my favourite room in this house, filled with delicious smells and tastes. Ever since I could walk, I kept ending up in the kitchens, both here and at the vineyard, and my grandmother and aunts never hesitated to put me to work.

There are herbs everywhere, clay pots of fresh basil and oregano. Recently picked thyme and sage, still with their purple flowers, hangs from the ceiling and fills the air with their fragrance.

Teresa points to a bunch of ripe tomatoes by the sink, drying next to the carrots and zucchini she picked earlier.

“You can start by slicing the tomatoes.”

I wash my hands and begin cutting. There’s a small bowl of large, juicy grapes from the vineyard on the table, and I pop one into my mouth. The taste brings back memories of long summers helping out with the harvest, of sun and dirt and the first time I was allowed to taste the family wine.

“How are things over in Del Sol? Your mother says you’re no longer doing voices?”

“Yeah, the show I was working on has ended. But one of my friends is trying to set me up with her agent. For movie roles, I mean.”

“You’re going back to movies? That sounds wonderful! You were so happy back when you did that.”

I know for a fact that Teresa hasn’t watched a single second of Llama Man’s adventures, animated or otherwise, but she was always supportive.

“Yeah, I’m still considering it, but…”

A wildly off-key chord sounds from the living room, followed by laughter as my mother explains something and Sofia starts over.

I glance at the crutches leaning against the wall and lower my voice slightly, although my mother is unlikely to hear me over Sofia murdering a Tartosan folk song.

“How is she doing? When I’m not here, I mean?”

“You always worry too much, tesoro. Your mother is fine.”

“I know, I just… I haven’t been home much lately.”

“You’ve been busy. It’s understandable, you have your own life over there.”

“But now that… There’s nothing that really keeps me over there right now. And both her leg and her hand seems worse lately. I was wondering if I should take a longer break, stay home with her for a while…”

Teresa sighs.

“Paolo, listen to me. It is not your job to replace your father. Your mother is happy. She has family, she has friends, she has so much joy in her life. You need to try and find some joy in your life too.”

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[thecrayonindisguise]

Chapter 2: An Unexpected Connection|| Bonds and Barriers

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Original Female Character

Masterpost || << prev || next >>

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: no particular warnings

Summary: After their very first ball, Caterina and Teresa Medici make quite of an entrance at Lady Danbury’s ball, turning heads with their charm and captivating the attention of London's elite. Teresa effortlessly draws Lord Ducker into her orbit, while Caterina, determined to avoid emotional entanglements, catches the eye of Benedict Bridgerton. Their witty and fiery exchanges spark both curiosity and leave the ton abuzz with whispers about the enigmatic Medici sisters. As the days unfold, the tension between Caterina and Benedict becomes undeniable, hinting at a deeper connection that neither is prepared to face.

Authors Note: Heyy! How are you? I’m back with the second chapter, I hope you like it! I know...I wrote way too much but I wanted to introduce you better to the characters :) As always I apologize if you find any mistakes but English is not my first language

Dearest gentle readers,

As the glittering halls of Lady Danbury's annual ball came to life, it was clear that the season had officially begun, and with it, the customary swirl of gossip, intrigue, and, of course, scandal. The evening was a spectacle to behold, but rest assured, it is the guests rather than the décor that provided the most entertainment.

Fresh off the boat from Italy, two radiant gems have graced our shores and stirred the waters of the ton. Allow me to introduce the Medici sisters. The elder, Lady Caterina Medici, has taken to London society with an air of cool indifference that is certain to attract every gentleman's attention, and perhaps drive them mad with her elusiveness. Her wit is as sharp as her beauty, and I dare say, there was not a dull moment in her company. Though she spent much of the evening avoiding the dance floor, her conversations were anything but dull. One might wonder whether Miss Caterina is here for sport or something more substantial. If her interactions with the eligible bachelors of our society are any indication, we may find that her icy demeanor will melt only for the right match, or perhaps for no one at all.

And then there is the younger, Miss Teresa Medici, whose sweetness is as charming as her sister’s sharpness. She, too, seems well on her way to captivating hearts, but do not be deceived by her innocent smile. It seems the Medici twins are not just diamonds in the rough, but polished gems with a sharpness that can outwit even the most astute gentlemen. It appears also that Lord Edward Ducker, cousin to the esteemed Bridgertons, was seen twice on the dance floor with the enchanting Miss Teresa Medici. Could there be an alliance between the Scottish nobility and the Italian beauties of the season?

Speaking of which, one cannot ignore the Bridgertons, whose reputation for creating drama seems to persist. One cannot help but notice the sudden and fervent interest of none other than Benedict Bridgerton, the second son, known more for his artistic pursuits than for indulging in the formalities of our society, it is highly unusual to see Mr. Bridgerton so enamored by the charms of the ballroom. Could it be that the Medici allure has cast a spell on him as well? His eyes followed Caterina Medici throughout the evening, and one cannot help but wonder if a new romance is on the horizon.

As for the Queen’s search for this season’s diamond, the royal eyes have yet to make their decision. But make no mistake, dear readers, the Medici sisters have undoubtedly caught the attention of many, and it would surprise no one if one of them found herself the subject of such a coveted title.

In a season already filled with anticipation, one thing is certain: the Medici sisters have arrived, and London society may never be the same again.

Yours truly, Lady Whistledown

─────────

The early morning light crept into Caterina’s room as her maid, Vanessa, gently tried to rouse her from her slumber. "My lady?" Vanessa called softly.

"Mmmh?" Caterina groaned, her voice muffled by the plush pillows as she buried herself deeper under the covers.

"Your sister is ready, my lady. Your mother could come in any minute," Vanessa continued, moving gracefully across the room to draw open the curtains.

Caterina squinted against the light now pouring into the room. "But what day is it today? Is it a special day? Why do I have to wake up so early?" she moaned, pulling the blankets over her head.

"No, miss, it's not a special day," Vanessa chuckled, her tone lighthearted as she opened the first curtain. Caterina let out a noise of displeasure, squeezing her eyes shut against the invasion of daylight. "I shouldn’t have drunk so much last night," Caterina mumbled as she sat up groggily, her hair tousled from sleep. "Can you repeat to me the reason for this sudden awakening?" she asked, still half asleep, watching Vanessa move briskly around the room, opening the last curtain and then the window to let in fresh air.

"Your mother ordered me to wake you up early, miss," Vanessa explained. "It is possible that some gentlemen from last night’s ball may visit this morning, and you must prepare. Come on now, miss, we don't want to keep them waiting," she urged, gently pulling back the covers.

Caterina groaned in protest. "But I wanted to visit London today," she muttered, her voice full of disappointment.

"You can always do that with one of the gentlemen, my lady," Vanessa teased with a smirk as she began pulling out a fresh gown from the wardrobe. Caterina rolled her eyes while her fingers ran through her tousled hair as she let out a long sigh.

Vanessa bustled around the room, laying out a soft lavender morning gown on the settee. As Caterina slowly stood up, she cast a glance toward her maid, noticing the curious gleam in Vanessa’s eye.

“You look like you have something on your mind, Vanessa. Out with it,” Caterina said, her voice still groggy but edged with a faint smile.

Vanessa, clearly delighted at the invitation, couldn’t suppress her question any longer. “Well, my lady, how was it? Your first ball, I mean. It must have been grand! So many lords and ladies, so many suitors all vying for your attention.”

Caterina snorted, shaking her head as she padded barefoot across the room toward the vanity. “Oh, please. It was as grand as it was exhausting. There were far too many people pretending to be interested in me, and even more pretending not to be bored.”

Vanessa laughed softly, handing Caterina a silver brush to tame her wild locks. “I thought you might enjoy the excitement. Surely the dances were fun, no?”

Caterina rolled her eyes in the mirror as she brushed her hair, the sarcasm evident in her voice. “Yes, if by ‘fun’ you mean being twirled around by men who have absolutely no idea how to lead without stepping on your feet. Honestly, Vanessa, I had more fun watching the footmen trying to juggle trays of champagne than I did dancing with half of those gentlemen.”

Vanessa grinned, clearly amused by her mistress’s sharp tongue. “But there must have been at least one gentleman who caught your eye, no?”

Caterina raised a brow, pausing mid-brush. “If by ‘caught my eye,’ you mean nearly putting me to sleep with endless talk of their ‘family estates’ and ‘social connections,’ then yes, plenty of them caught my eye.”

She sighed dramatically, setting the brush down and standing. “One of them droned on about his collection of rare hunting dogs. Dogs, Vanessa! For nearly fifteen minutes. I think he expected me to be impressed by his…hound expertise,” Caterina continued with a smirk. “I swear, if I have to endure one more gentleman boasting about the length of his ancestral lineage, I’ll start taking naps during waltzes.”

Vanessa chuckled, shaking her head as she helped Caterina into her morning gown. “You’re always so sharp, my lady. But I’m sure there were some interesting moments at least? Or something exciting that happened?”

Caterina shrugged nonchalantly, fastening the delicate buttons at her wrists. “Oh, of course. There was a riveting debate over whether pheasant or venison made for a better roast. I was on the edge of my seat.”

The sarcasm was heavy in her voice, and Vanessa burst into laughter, unable to contain herself. “Pheasant or venison? I can’t imagine that conversation holding anyone’s attention for very long.”

“Exactly my point,” Caterina said with a wry smile. “And you should have seen the way they tried to impress me with their wit. One gentleman thought it clever to comment on the ‘exoticness’ of Italy as if I were some rare artifact on display.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened. “Oh no, he didn’t!”

Caterina waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, he did. And not only that, he mispronounced half the Italian words he tried to use to impress me. Terrible effort.”

The maid shook her head in disbelief. “I’m surprised you didn’t put him in his place, my lady.”

“Oh, I did,” Caterina said with a sly grin. “I smiled sweetly and thanked him for his ‘astounding knowledge’ of Italy, and then proceeded to ask if he could name one city other than Rome or Florence”

Vanessa stifled a laugh behind her hand. “And?”

“Let’s just say, his face turned as red as the drink he spilled on himself shortly after,” Caterina replied with a chuckle.

Vanessa finished lacing up the gown, her eyes still bright with amusement. “It sounds like you survived your first ball well enough. And surely, there are more to come.”

“Survived is the key word,” Caterina muttered, smoothing down the skirt of her gown. “At this rate, I’ll need an entire vineyard to get through the next one.”

Vanessa handed her the silver brush again, this time with a knowing smile. “Still, my lady, it seems you made quite the impression. I overheard some of the servants this morning, everyone’s talking about the Medici sisters.”

“Let them talk,” Caterina said with a sigh, turning back toward the vanity. “I have more pressing matters to worry about than who noticed me at a ball. Like figuring out how to avoid these tedious suitors for the rest of the season.”

Vanessa grinned as she stepped back, watching her mistress from the corner of the room. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find a way, my lady. You always do.”

Caterina smirked, glancing at herself in the mirror one last time. “That, Vanessa, is the only thing I can guarantee.”

─────────

The morning sun bathed the Bridgerton dining room in a soft golden hue, casting long shadows across the polished mahogany table. Breakfast was in full swing, with the usual hustle and bustle of a large family settling into their seats, but it wasn’t the food that occupied everyone’s attention this morning.

Violet Bridgerton, seated at the head of the table, looked out over her brood with her usual mix of fondness and light exasperation. Next to her, Anthony sat with his arms crossed, eyes sharp as he observed the lively conversation between his siblings. Francesca was engaged in a quiet discussion with Colin, while Eloise, true to form, had a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, occasionally glancing up to join in on the conversation.

At the center of it all, however, was Lord Edward Ducker, who, like Benedict, sat with an easy, languid grace. His dark hair, slightly tousled from the morning, caught the sunlight as he glanced over the freshly printed copy of Lady Whistledown’s, which had just been delivered moments before. He flicked through it casually, but when he spotted something interesting, he cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.

"Ah," Edward began, his voice dripping with playful mockery, "I see that Whistledown has deemed me worthy of mention."

Benedict, lounging opposite him with a bemused smile, raised an eyebrow. "And what scandal have you stirred up now, cousin?"

"Well," Edward replied with mock gravity, holding up the paper as though about to recite an epic verse, "It appears I have committed the grievous sin of dancing twice with Miss Teresa Medici."

A collective murmur rippled across the table. Eloise looked up from her book, Francesca’s eyes widened with interest, and even Anthony, ever the vigilant head of the family, seemed to lean in slightly.

Benedict chuckled. "Twice in one evening? Clearly, you’re more dedicated to causing a stir than I gave you credit for."

Edward grinned as he began to read from the paper, affecting a haughty tone: "Lord Edward Ducker, cousin to the esteemed Bridgertons, was seen twice on the dance floor with the enchanting Miss Teresa Medici. Could there be an alliance between the Scottish nobility and the Italian beauties of the season?"

Violet set down her teacup, a wry smile playing on her lips. "I must say, Edward, Whistledown doesn’t waste any time, does she?"

Edward feigned a pained expression. "It seems I am to be thrust into matrimony before I’ve even had my second cup of tea."

Benedict leaned back in his chair, eyes gleaming. "You always did have a way with the ladies, Edward. Though I must say, two dances with Miss Medici? You might as well have proposed on the spot, by Whistledown’s standards."

Edward shot Benedict a sideways glance, his smirk deepening. "Well, not all of us can hide in the shadows, avoiding the spotlight."

"Hide?" Benedict echoed, amusement lacing his voice. "I’ll have you know, I am a master of subtly avoiding entrapment by the likes of Whistledown."

"Oh really?" Edward teased, his eyes dancing with mischief as he turned back to the paper. "Because it seems you’ve managed to make an appearance here as well, my dear cousin."

Benedict’s smirk faltered, just slightly. "Me? Nonsense. I’m perfectly innocent."

Edward scanned the paper before reciting aloud with relish: "One cannot help but notice the sudden and fervent interest of none other than Benedict Bridgerton, the second son, known more for his artistic pursuits than for indulging in the formalities of our society, it is highly unusual to see Mr. Bridgerton so enamored by the charms of the ballroom. Could it be that the Medici allure has cast a spell on him as well? His eyes followed Caterina Medici throughout the evening, and one cannot help but wonder if a new romance is on the horizon.”

Benedict groaned lightly, shaking his head as a few chuckles echoed around the table. Francesca raised an eyebrow and glanced at her brother. "Two Medici sisters? How very intriguing."

Eloise piped up, clearly enjoying the attention being thrown in Benedict’s direction. "How scandalous, Benedict. Perhaps you’ve found your muse?"

"I assure you, it was nothing of the sort," Benedict said, waving off the playful jabs. "Miss Medici is… interesting, yes. But I’d hardly say Whistledown has reason to believe I’m courting her."

Eloise leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table with a grin. "You forget, Benedict, that the ton doesn’t need much reason to believe anything. A look, a dance, even a mere conversation, suddenly, you're halfway down the aisle."

"And with a Medici no less," Colin chimed in, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "You certainly don’t do things halfway, do you, Benedict?"

Benedict rolled his eyes, though his lips curled into a smile. "The last thing I need is Whistledown playing matchmaker on my behalf."

"Indeed," Edward added with mock seriousness. "Especially when it seems I am already being prepared for my own romantic destiny."

Eloise exchanged a glance at that "I wasn’t aware that dancing twice meant an engagement was imminent," she said her eyes sparkling with humor.

"Ah, Eloise" Edward replied, turning his gaze to her with a playful smile. "In the eyes of Lady Whistledown, two dances might as well be a declaration of undying love."

Violet, who had been watching the banter with amusement, finally spoke up. "It seems that this season will be full of surprises, especially if Lady Whistledown continues to take such an interest in our family affairs."

Edward looked at Benedict. "Then we’ll just have to give her something worth writing about, won’t we?"

Benedict lifted his cup in a mock toast. "To surviving Lady Whistledown’s gaze. And to ensure that whatever scandal she writes, we at least look good doing it."

The table erupted in laughter as the cousins clinked their cups together, both fully aware that the games of the ton had only just begun.

─────────

The morning light filtered through the tall, elegant windows of the Langstone dining room, casting a warm, golden glow on the pristine white tablecloth and delicate china that adorned the long table. The Medici and Langstone families, now gathered together for breakfast a quiet conversation was filling the room.

Caterina sat at the table, her hair elegantly tied back, though her posture betrayed a slight weariness from the previous night’s ball. Across from her, Teresa was nearly vibrating with excitement, her eyes alight as she eagerly helped herself to a scone. Their mother, Lady Medici, sat beside Teresa, conversing lightly with Lady Langstone, who sat at the head of the table, while Olympia and Cynthia Langstone, the daughters of the house, chatted excitedly about the night’s events.

But the real excitement had only just arrived with the morning delivery of Lady Whistledown, which sat untouched at the center of the table, waiting, like a mischievous spirit, to stir up trouble.

Cynthia, ever eager, was the first to reach for the paper. “Oh, I cannot wait to see what she’s written about last night!” she exclaimed, her voice bright with anticipation. “You know she never misses anything.”

“I wonder who has made her infamous pages this time,” Olympia added with a sly smile, leaning forward to peer at the column as her sister unfolded the crisp paper.

Caterina leaned in, her curiosity piqued. “Is that the famous Lady Whistledown everyone has been speaking of?” she asked, eyeing the paper with mild interest. “I’ve heard her name whispered in nearly every corner of the ballroom last night.”

Teresa, equally intrigued, glanced at the Langstone sisters. “Yes, what is the fascination with her? I’ve never heard of such a thing in Italy.”

Cynthia, her eyes alight with enthusiasm, eagerly took the opportunity to explain. “Oh, Lady Whistledown is the most infamous writer in all of London! She writes about the ton, the scandals, the romances, the gossip, and no one is safe from her sharp wit.”

Olympia nodded, adding, “She seems to know everything before anyone else does. If you’re mentioned in her paper, it can either be a blessing or a curse, depending on what she writes about you.”

The Medici sisters exchanged intrigued glances, clearly fascinated by the idea of a secret chronicler wielding such power over the social scene.

Caterina raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a slight smile. “So she has the power to make, or break, someone’s reputation with a single word?”

“Precisely,” Cynthia said with a nod. “And no one knows who she is. Her identity is the greatest mystery in London. Everyone speculates, but no one has any idea.”

Teresa’s eyes widened with excitement. “How thrilling! It’s like something out of a novel.”

Olympia chuckled softly. “It’s far more real than any novel. Last season, she practically ruined a debutante with a single article. She has the ability to shape the entire season. Some people are terrified of her.”

Caterina, ever the skeptic, leaned back in her chair and sipped her tea. “Fascinating. And yet, it seems so… impersonal. To be judged by someone who remains hidden. It’s almost cowardly, don’t you think?”

Olympia shrugged with a grin. “Perhaps. But that’s what makes her so powerful. She’s everywhere and nowhere at once.” Teresa was enthralled, her curiosity growing with each word. “And you’ve been mentioned before?”

Cynthia beamed proudly. “Oh yes, several times. Usually about our gowns or our partners at various balls. But nothing too scandalous, thankfully.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Once, she commented on how Olympia’s gown nearly outshone a duchess’s.”

Olympia laughed, waving off her sister’s comment. “That was ages ago. But the point is, you never know what she’ll say, or when she’ll say it.” Lady Medici, who had been listening quietly, looked at her daughters with a mix of amusement and caution. “Well, let us hope our first mention is a favorable one.”

Before Teresa could respond, Cynthia gasped dramatically, her eyes wide as she scanned the paper. “Oh my! Here it is!”

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to her. She cleared her throat and began to read aloud, her voice bright with excitement.

“And then there is the younger, Miss Teresa Medici, whose sweetness is as charming as her sister’s sharpness. She, too, seems well on her way to captivating hearts, but do not be deceived by her innocent smile. It seems the Medici twins are not just diamonds in the rough, but polished gems with a sharpness that can outwit even the most astute gentlemen. It appears that Lord Edward Ducker, cousin to the esteemed Bridgertons, was seen twice on the dance floor with the enchanting Miss Teresa Medici. Could there be an alliance between the Scottish nobility and the Italian beauties of the season?”

Teresa’s cheeks flushed a deep pink, but her smile was radiant. “Oh! That’s wonderful! I can’t believe I’m mentioned!”

“Twice, no less,” Olympia added with a wink. “It seems Lady Whistledown has a soft spot for romances.”

Before Teresa could respond, Cynthia’s eyes darted back to the paper, a mischievous smile curling on her lips. “Oh, but that’s not all…”

She glanced meaningfully at Caterina before continuing. “One cannot help but notice the sudden and fervent interest of none other than Benedict Bridgerton, the second son, known more for his artistic pursuits than for indulging in the formalities of our society, it is highly unusual to see Mr. Bridgerton so enamored by the charms of the ballroom. Could it be that the Medici allure has cast a spell on him as well? His eyes followed Caterina Medici throughout the evening, and one cannot help but wonder if a new romance is on the horizon.”

Caterina’s expression didn’t waver as she took another sip of her tea, though her eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement. “a spell?” she repeated dryly, placing her cup back on its saucer. “That’s a generous interpretation. I’d say it was more like a man desperately trying to survive an evening of unbearable conversation.”

The table erupted in soft laughter, though Teresa shot her sister a playful look. “Come now, Kitty, it wasn’t that bad. He seemed quite taken with you.”

Caterina leaned back in her chair, smirking slightly. “Taken with me, or taken with the idea of escaping all the simpering debutantes that were flocking around him? Either way, I’m flattered that I provided a distraction.”

“Oh, please,” Olympia teased. “You looked perfectly happy out there. And if Mr. Bridgerton is as charming as they say, I doubt you were bored.”

“Charming is one word for it,” Caterina mused, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Though I will admit, his attempts at humor were… admirable. For a man who escapes such formalities, he certainly talks a lot.” Teresa rolled her eyes affectionately but couldn’t hide her excitement as she reached for the paper herself. “Regardless, it’s thrilling to see both of our names in Lady Whistledown.”

Caterina smiled warmly at her sister, her teasing tone softening. “Yes, well, just don’t let it go to your head, Tess. You still have a whole season ahead of you. And who knows what else this Whistledown will have to say?”

Teresa, undeterred, beamed. “I can’t wait.”

Lady Medici, watching her daughters with a fond smile, raised her teacup. “To a successful season, then. And may we continue to make the pages of Lady Whistledow, for all the right reasons.”

─────────

As the morning bathed the Langstone estate. The Medici family, ever poised, were expecting a full day of visits from eligible gentlemen who had attended the ball the previous evening. Caterina, however, appeared completely unbothered by the prospect, her mind seemingly elsewhere.

“Caterina, darling, please do remember that we are expecting quite a few visitors today,” Lady Medici reminded her daughter from across the room, adjusting her posture as she awaited the arrival of the day’s first guests. “You mustn’t be so cold to them, darling. This is a serious matter.”

Caterina sighed, swirling the tea in her cup lazily. “I’ll be perfectly polite, Mother, but I’m afraid I can’t promise much beyond that. I would rather do other things today than sit, listen, and smile.” Her voice carried a note of amusement that her mother did not appreciate.

"You have to take this seriously, Caterina. You cannot afford to offend every man who dares approach you."

Before another word could be exchanged, the first knock echoed through the grand estate. A parade of gentlemen had begun, much to Caterina’s restrained dismay. She straightened her shoulders, bracing herself for what would undoubtedly be a long day.

The butler, ever efficient, opened the door, revealing Lord Barrington, a tall man with an awkward gait but a kind smile. He approached Caterina with flowers in hand, bowing deeply.

“Miss Medici, it is a pleasure to see you again. I brought these from my family’s garden. The ones I told you last night during our wonderful dance” he offered, handing her the bouquet of roses.

Caterina’s polite smile barely concealed her disinterest. “Thank you, Lord Barrington. Roses, how charming.” She took the bouquet and set it on the table without a second glance. “What brings you here this fine morning?”

Lord Barrington seemed slightly flustered but continued. “I hoped to invite you for a stroll through the gardens. The weather is delightful, and I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to converse in a more intimate setting.”

“A walk?” Caterina tilted her head, her gaze flicking briefly out the window where the sun shone brightly. She seemed to weigh the offer for a moment before her smile grew just a bit sharper. “I’m afraid I’ve had enough of the gardens for one day, Lord Barrington. But do enjoy them on my behalf.”

Lord Barrington blinked, clearly taken aback, but managed a polite bow before excusing himself. As soon as he left, Teresa leaned over to her twin, giggling softly.

“Oh, Kitty, you really are impossible.”

“I never promised to entertain every dullard who knocked at our door,” Caterina replied with a smirk, eyes sparkling mischievously.

Not long after Lord Barrington’s departure, another knock came at the door. This time, it was Lord Fairfax, a dashing gentleman with a quick wit and easy charm. He greeted Caterina with confidence.

“Miss Medici, a pleasure as always. I was hoping we could share a ride through the countryside, it's the perfect day for it.”

Caterina looked him up and down, clearly sizing him up. “You are quite bold, Lord Fairfax, to assume I would agree so easily.” She stood, walking to the window as though contemplating. After a moment of silence, she turned, her eyes narrowed slightly in amusement. “I am not so easily won, my lord. But do continue your efforts. They are…entertaining.”

Lord Fairfax raised a brow, sensing the challenge in her words. “Then, Miss Medici, consider me up for the challenge. I shall win you over yet.” He bowed deeply and left, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

The hours passed, and the gentlemen came and went like clockwork. Some brought gifts, others tried to charm her with witty conversation. One by one, Caterina dismissed them with the same composed elegance she had mastered over the years.

The drawing room was now filled with the scent of the floral bouquet presented to her by Lord Wilkins, a gentleman more nervous than the others. He stammered through his conversation, constantly glancing at Teresa as though hoping for help.

“I—Miss Medici—I’ve brought you lilies…from my estate,” he said, his voice shaky.

Caterina raised a brow, glancing at the flowers. “Lovely. I imagine they must be quite beautiful at your estate,” she commented, her tone neutral.

Lord Wilkins took that as encouragement, nervously continuing. “They are. You should come to see them sometime, I mean… if you would… if you’d like to.”

Caterina leaned back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap as she studied the flustered gentleman. “Perhaps,” she said noncommittally. “Although I’ve never been particularly fond of lilies.”

Wilkins paled, his earlier bravado quickly evaporating. “Oh, well, I could…bring something else next time?”

“There’s no need,” Caterina said, her voice kind but final. “You’ve done enough for today.”

When he left, Lady Medici let out an exasperated sigh. “Caterina, how will you ever secure a match if you continue to send them all away?”

“Mother,” Caterina began, now completely weary of the parade of suitors, “I have no intention of securing a match simply to satisfy social expectations. The gentlemen who have visited today have been…fine, but none of them stir anything in me. Do you really expect me to spend a lifetime with someone who does not?”

Lady Medici's brows furrowed in frustration. “You cannot wait forever, my dear.”

Caterina turned her gaze towards the window, watching the sunlight flicker across the gardens outside. “Perhaps I can. But I have enough for today. Vanessa!” she exclaimed, calling her maid “It’s time!” she added.

So then she made her way to the grand staircase, pausing at the top to compose herself. With a deep sigh, she forced a bright smile and addressed Vanessa, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Ah, what a wonderful day for a promenade, don’t you think, Vanessa?"

As she descended the stairs, she was immediately greeted by a line of more and more eager suitors who were still waiting, each clamoring to gain her attention. "Oh, Miss Medici, allow me to escort you through the streets of London!" one gentleman offered, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

"Miss Medici, you must let me go first! Some streets are dangerous, and I would be honored to protect you!" said another, pushing forward slightly.

Their voices overlapped, each trying to outdo the other with offers of assistance. But Caterina, her eyes sparkling with mischief, ignored their advances, descending the staircase with a slow, graceful stride and a sly smile playing on her lips.

When she reached the bottom, she turned to face the group, her tone polite but firm. "Please, any of you who have come here today to court me may as well leave now. I’m not in the mood anymore to be adored. But you can still try your luck with my sister or one of the Langstone ladies. They would be more than pleased to entertain you all."

The room fell into a brief, stunned silence. Several of the men shuffled uncomfortably, their expressions turning sour at her bluntness, some even letting out quiet huffs of frustration.

But before Caterina could leave, her path was blocked by none other than Benedict Bridgerton and his cousin, Lord Ducker. Benedict, standing in front, held a modest bouquet of wildflowers in his hand, his crooked smile making Caterina pause.

"Mr. Bridgerton," she greeted him, her voice laced with playful mockery. "So eager to see me again?"

Benedict bowed, offering her the flowers with a charming smile. "Miss Medici, might I have the honor of escorting you through London today?" His tone was teasing, though there was a sincerity in his gaze that caught her attention.

Caterina tilted her head, pretending to consider his offer with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Do you really wish that, Mr. Bridgerton?"

He blinked in surprise, clearly expecting a different response. "If you wish it, Miss Medici."

With a smirk, she shook her head. "No… not really." Her words caught him off guard, and he stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words.

Before he could respond, she turned to his cousin with a polite smile. "Have a nice day, Mr. Bridgerton. Lord Ducker."

And with that, Caterina gracefully brushed past them, leaving Benedict standing at the bottom of the stairs, bouquet still in hand, watching her with a mixture of amusement and intrigue. As she exited the house, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

─────────

The sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Lady Danbury’s house, casting a soft glow across the drawing room where Lady Medici and her daughters sat, engaged in polite conversation with Lady Danbury. The aroma of freshly brewed tea mingled with the scent of roses that adorned the table, creating an atmosphere of refined elegance.

Lady Danbury, with her ever-watchful eyes, leaned in slightly, her voice dripping with curiosity. “So did you already find a particular interest in someone at my ball, ladies?” she asked, her gaze flickering between the ladies.

Teresa, ever the more sociable of the two, immediately responded with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Undoubtedly, there were some notable gentlemen, Lady Danbury. I even made the acquaintance of a few this morning," she said, her voice light and melodic.

Lady Danbury, intrigued, raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And do you recall any of their names, my dear?”

Teresa chuckled softly as if amused by the question. “There was Lord Dumbling, Lord Harrington, and also Lord Melrose, who brought me the most beautiful peonies from his family’s garden this morning. But if I am to be completely sincere, most of the other gentlemen were quite captivated by my twin sister Caterina, were they not?” she teased, her gaze sliding over to her sister, who sat quietly, sipping her tea as though she were miles away.

Caterina finally glanced up, her expression impassive but her tone laced with cool detachment. "Well, those were the ones who were able to enter the room. I had afterward ejected many others." Her words hung in the air, sharp and unexpected.

"Caterina," Lady Medici said, her voice filled with maternal scolding as she shot her daughter a look of disapproval. But Caterina merely shrugged, unbothered by the reaction she had caused.

Lady Danbury, ever the sharp-witted observer, chuckled softly at the display. “And may I ask why, Miss Caterina? I thought the whole reason you embarked on such a journey to London was to find a husband, was it not?”

Caterina didn’t falter. "It most certainly is," she replied calmly, though her mother gave her a reproachful glance, silently urging her to act with more grace. Still, Caterina remained unflustered, sipping her tea with steady composure.

“The gentlemen who arrived this morning were quite enthusiastic,” she began in a measured tone, “but I wasn’t feeling particularly disposed to entertain them. The dance you hosted, Lady Danbury, was so splendid and engaging that I found myself needing some rest afterward.” Her voice was smooth, her words carefully chosen. “Besides, I had a great desire to explore the streets of London. It’s a beautiful city, especially on such a lovely sunny day. I hear there aren’t many like it in England.”

Lady Danbury leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. “So, if I may be so bold, what exactly are your expectations for this… husband you seek, Miss Medici?”

Without missing a beat, Caterina replied with perfect poise, but her words caused a visible shift in the room. “Well, I am certainly looking for someone with significant financial wealth,” she stated flatly, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.

Teresa’s eyes widened, and she cast a glance at her mother, who was already sighing in resigned exasperation. Lady Medici’s lips thinned, though she refrained from any verbal reprimand, clearly accustomed to Caterina’s candid nature.

Lady Danbury, always one for a bit of scandalous conversation, gave a bemused smile. “Wealth, you say? My dear, there is much more to marriage than wealth.”

Caterina’s gaze did not waver. “Of course there is,” she replied evenly. “But security is paramount. A man of wealth can offer a comfortable life, and that is something I will not compromise on.”

Lady Medici shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes briefly closing in silent frustration at her daughter’s bluntness. Teresa, in an attempt to lighten the mood, chimed in.

“But surely, love must play some part in your decision, sister?”

Caterina tilted her head, considering her words carefully before answering. “Love is a luxury, sister. It is not essential for a match.” Her voice was devoid of emotion, her gaze steady as she addressed the room.

Teresa exchanged a quick glance with their mother, both of them understanding the deeper meaning behind Caterina’s words. Lady Medici sighed, looking at Lady Danbury with an apologetic smile. "You'll have to excuse Caterina's… practical nature."

But Lady Danbury, ever perceptive, smiled knowingly, her eyes lingering on Caterina. "Practicality has its merits, but sometimes, dear, the heart has its own plans, plans that may surprise even the most pragmatic among us."

Caterina, for once, seemed to pause, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around the teacup. But she quickly masked her reaction, offering a polite smile. "Perhaps, Lady Danbury. But I prefer not to rely on surprises."

─────────

The evening of the second ball arrived, casting a soft glow over London as carriages rolled up to the grand entrance of the lavish estate where the event was being held. The Medici sisters, Teresa and Caterina, had planned for this night with the utmost precision. Their gowns had been crafted in Italy, a design that, in their homeland, might have been considered daring but elegant. In London, however, it would be nothing short of scandalous.

As their carriage drew closer to the estate, Teresa fidgeted with her gloves, casting a glance at her sister. "Are you sure about this, Kitty?"

Caterina’s lips curled into a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming under the soft lamplight that filtered through the window. "We knew exactly what we were doing when we had these dresses made, Tess. Trust me, we’ll make an impression. Isn't that the point?"

Teresa bit her lip but nodded. "I suppose so. But I can already hear what Lady Whistledown will write about us tomorrow."

"Let her write," Caterina said with a flick of her wrist. "We’ll be the talk of the ton. That's what matters."

─────────

The carriage rolled to a stop, and the footman opened the door, offering them his hand. Caterina exited first, her gown a stunning light gold, catching the light as she descended the steps with graceful confidence. The dress clung to her figure in all the right places, the fabric shimmering with every movement. But what truly caught attention was the back of the gown, or rather, the lack thereof. From the nape of her neck down to the small of her back, her skin was left exposed in an elegant swoop of fabric, the boldness of the design sending ripples of shock through those who saw it.

Teresa followed her gown a softer, more muted pink. It shimmered with a subtle glow under the candlelight, highlighting her delicate features. Though softer than Caterina’s, her dress was no less daring, with a similar open back that revealed much more skin than any proper English lady would dare show.

As the twins stood side by side at the entrance of the ballroom, their presence commanded attention. The grand hall had been abuzz with conversation, laughter, and the murmur of gossip, but as the Medici sisters made their entrance, almost complete silence fell over the room.

Caterina held her chin high, fully aware of the eyes upon them. Her smile was serene, calculated, as if she relished in the shocked gasps and murmured whispers that followed their every step. Teresa, though slightly more reserved, matched her sister’s poise, her head held high as they glided into the room.

The fabric of their gowns caught the light, drawing attention to the elegant curve of their exposed backs and the finely embroidered details along the edges of the material. Every step they took seemed to be designed to command attention, the soft rustling of their dresses the only sound in the otherwise hushed room.

The looks on the faces of the ton were a mix of disbelief and judgment. Elderly matrons clutched their fans in shock, and young debutantes exchanged scandalized glances. Lord Ducker, standing near the entrance, nearly choked on his drink when he saw Teresa. His eyes widened as he tried, and failed, to look anywhere but the bare expanse of her back.

"Good heavens," a lady murmured from across the room, her eyes narrowing as she turned to her companion. "Did you see what those ladies are wearing?"

"Wearing? More like not wearing," another woman replied, her tone scandalized.

As the sisters walked further into the ballroom, Lady Ducker, standing near Lord Ducker, arched an eyebrow and let out a quiet hum of disapproval. "It seems the Medici sisters have decided to bring their fashion to England," she said, her eyes lingering on Teresa. Her tone was pointed, but beneath her words, there was an edge of amusement as if she knew exactly the effect their entrance would have.

Caterina caught sight of Benedict across the room, his eyes already fixed on her. She met his gaze, her lips curving into a subtle, knowing smile. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of surprise, admiration, and perhaps something else, a flicker of something more primal beneath his well-mannered exterior. But he didn’t look away.

Teresa, on the other hand, had her attention drawn to Lord Ducker, who was now standing frozen near the refreshment table, unable to tear his gaze away from her. He looked positively bewitched. She glanced at Caterina, who nudged her lightly. "See? We have their attention."

"Too much of it," Teresa whispered, though there was a faint blush on her cheeks, not entirely out of embarrassment.

They stopped near the edge of the dance floor, their presence undeniable as the ballroom began to hum with activity once more. The music resumed, but the gossip spread like wildfire, whispers following the Medici sisters wherever they moved.

A nearby group of young women exchanged judgmental glances, their voices low but not low enough for Caterina to miss. "It’s indecent, really," one of them said, her voice filled with disdain. "They might as well have come in their undergarments."

Caterina turned her head ever so slightly, catching the eye of the girl who had spoken. With a calm, confident smile, she lifted her chin and gave a subtle nod, as if acknowledging their words but dismissing them with a quiet power. They may talk, she thought, but it was she who had the attention of the room.

"I told you," Caterina murmured to Teresa, her voice low but filled with satisfaction. "We’ve already won."

Teresa sighed, though her lips twitched with a smile. "I just hope we survive the night."

Caterina chuckled, her eyes scanning the room once more. "Oh, we will. But I suspect after tonight, the ton will never forget us."

─────────

The ballroom was alive with music, light, and laughter, but all Benedict could focus on was the woman standing across from him. Miss Caterina Medici. As soon as he caught sight of her at the entrance of the ballroom, everything around him seemed to be still. For a moment, he was utterly captivated. His breath hitched, barely perceptibly, as his eyes raked over her, trying to fully comprehend what he was seeing.

She was breathtaking.

The gown was scandalous, yes, but more than that, it was a work of art on her body, every curve and line of the fabric designed to seduce. His gaze traveled from the delicate curve of her exposed shoulders down to the elegant dip of her bare back, the smooth skin gleaming in the soft glow of the chandeliers. The deep gold of the dress seemed to make her skin glow, every inch of her a tantalizing combination of elegance and temptation. Her hair was pinned elegantly, though a few rebellious strands framed her face, giving her an air of effortless beauty.

Benedict’s grip tightened around the glass of champagne in his hand. Damn her. It wasn’t the first time Caterina had rendered him speechless, but tonight… tonight it was different. Something raw, something primal unfurled inside him, tugging at his restraint, pushing against his usual composure. There was an air of defiance in her tonight, a woman who knew exactly what she was doing and was reveling in the chaos she caused. And God help him, he couldn’t look away.

His mind raced with thoughts he shouldn’t be having. The delicate slope of her back, the smooth line from her neck to her spine, made him ache to touch her. His imagination filled in what his hands wanted to do, run over that exposed skin, feel the warmth of her under his fingers, claim her in a way that wasn’t even appropriate to think about in a crowded ballroom.

She was temptation personified, and it was driving him mad. She knew the effect she was having on him; he was sure of it. The way her lips curled into that infuriatingly serene smile when their eyes met across the room told him everything. She was aware, and she enjoyed it.

Benedict swallowed, shifting in his stance as he tried to regain some semblance of control. But as she moved deeper into the room, her eyes locking with his for a brief moment, the sharpness of his desire returned, making his blood run hot beneath his skin.

I should not be thinking about her this way, he chided himself, but the thought only served to make his craving for her more intense.

He wanted her, and not just in a simple, gentlemanly fashion. There was something far more primal in the way his body reacted to the sight of her tonight. Something that went beyond flirtation, beyond the witty exchanges they’d shared. It was possessive, all-consuming, and utterly undeniable.

As she made her way through the room, collecting whispers and shocked gasps like jewels in a crown, Benedict’s decision crystallized.

He needed to have her attention, to remind her that no matter what game she was playing tonight, he was part of it, and he intended to win.

He set his glass down on a nearby table with purpose, his gaze never leaving her as he crossed the ballroom. His steps were confident, and deliberate, the buzz of the crowd dimming in his mind as he approached her. There was a flicker of something in her eyes when she noticed him approaching, anticipation, perhaps? Or was it the same desire that roared in his chest?

“Miss Medici,” Benedict’s voice was low, dripping with a mix of amusement and challenge. He bowed slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I believe you owe me a dance.”

Caterina’s lips curved into that familiar, teasing smile. “Do I?” Her voice was like silk, her brow arching as if to mock his request. She lifted her chin, clearly prepared to banter, but Benedict was having none of it tonight.

He stepped closer, his presence dominating, his tone dropping to a near growl. “Oh, you do. Don’t think I didn’t notice.” His eyes flickered down to the exposed skin of her back, then back to her eyes, his voice taking on a sharper edge. “You come dressed like this, catching everyone’s attention, and expect me not to claim my due?”

Caterina blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the intensity in his voice, but she quickly regained her composure. “I didn’t realize you had anything due to you, Mr. Bridgerton.”

He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes as he extended his hand toward her, waiting for her to take it. “Oh, I think you owe me more than just a dance.” His voice softened, turning into a low murmur meant only for her. “After all, if anyone’s going to be stealing glances at you tonight, it’ll be me.”

Caterina stared at him for a beat, her lips parting as if to retort, but the intensity of his gaze, the way he held himself with such confidence, silenced her. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she placed her hand in his. A spark shot up his arm the moment her gloved hand touched his.

“Shall we?” Benedict’s smile was almost predatory as he led her onto the dance floor, aware of the eyes following them.

The moment they were in position, and the music began, Benedict took her in his arms, their bodies closer than they had been in days. The tension between them simmered just beneath the surface, and he could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her gown.

"After the event at your house, I was expecting a bit more resistance to my invitation, Miss Medici," Benedict said, his voice low as he twirled her around, bringing her back in front of him with a graceful spin.

Caterina’s lips curled into a smirk as she came back into his arms, the spin bringing a fresh wave of her intoxicating perfume with it. "An invitation from an attractive man is always accepted, Mr. Bridgerton," she replied smoothly, her tone light but edged with a certain seductive confidence.

Benedict’s eyebrows shot up at her remark. "Attractive?" His voice dipped playfully. "So, you find me appealing, Miss Medici?"

She met his gaze, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Certainly I do," she said, her voice almost a purr. "I’m a woman, Mr. Bridgerton, and I have eyes too. I can hardly deny such a thing."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, there was a spark of something dangerous in her gaze, something that made Benedict’s pulse quicken. He tightened his hold on her waist just slightly, guiding her effortlessly through the steps of the dance.

Benedict let out a low chuckle, caught off guard by her directness. He couldn’t recall the last time a woman had spoken to him with such brazen honesty, especially not while looking at him like that.

"Additionally," Caterina continued, her smile widening, "I heard you don’t attend many balls…" She arched an eyebrow, her tone playfully inquisitive.

Benedict snorted, shaking his head slightly. "You’ve been reading Lady Whistledown, haven’t you?" There was a trace of irritation in his voice, though not entirely directed at her.

Caterina chuckled softly, clearly noticing his reaction. "I must somehow integrate into the English ton, Mr. Bridgerton," she said, her voice dropping into a sultry, teasing tone. She raised her chin ever so slightly, making her intentions clear, and yet keeping everything veiled in playful banter.

Benedict’s expression tightened for a brief moment. "Aren’t you bothered by what was written about you?" His eyes flicked down briefly to her dress undoubtedly one of the subjects of tomorrow’s paper and then back up to her face. He was testing her, probing to see if her confident demeanor was as untouchable as it appeared.

Caterina’s laugh was soft but full of amusement, her eyes sparkling as she met his challenge head-on. "Why would I be? Those are just words, Mr. Bridgerton. Gossip. Nobody really knows me." Her tone was dismissive as if she found the entire concept of caring about public opinion amusing.

Benedict’s eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued by her indifference. Most women in the ton would be mortified by such scandalous attention from Lady Whistledown, but Caterina seemed completely unphased. There was something deeply alluring about a woman who refused to be swayed by the whispers of society.

"I see you’re not one to let words affect you, then," Benedict remarked, spinning her once more, his grip firm on her waist as she twirled effortlessly back into his arms.

"Not at all," she replied with a light shrug. "In Italy, we care about gossip but here, it seems like it’s the lifeblood of society." Her lips twitched into a smirk. "A curious difference, wouldn’t you agree?"

"Curious, indeed," Benedict said, still studying her closely. "But not everyone is as impervious as you, Miss Medici."

She laughed again, a soft, musical sound that sent a strange thrill through him. "Perhaps they should be. After all, Mr. Bridgerton, isn’t it far better to live by one’s own truth than to be shackled by the opinions of others?"

Benedict was silent for a moment, turning her words over in his mind. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting from this dance, maybe more of the flirtatious banter they’d been engaging in, but Caterina’s insight caught him off guard. "And what is your truth, Miss Medici?"

Caterina’s smile grew, her eyes flashing with something unreadable. "That, Mr. Bridgerton, is something you’ll have to discover for yourself." She leaned in just slightly, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "If you’re brave enough."

The challenge was clear, and it sent a spark of excitement through him. "I think I’m up for the task," he said, his voice steady but charged with a new energy.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the bustling ballroom seemed to fade into the background.

They moved in perfect harmony, the music guiding their steps but their attention solely on each other. Caterina’s gaze flicked to his lips for the briefest of moments before she pulled away, the distance between them lengthening as the dance continued.

Benedict couldn’t help but smile. He had expected many things from this night, but meeting someone like her, a woman so unafraid to be herself, so unapologetically bold, had certainly not been one of them.

As the music began to wind down, Caterina gave him a sly, knowing look and with a graceful curtsy, Caterina stepped back, her gaze lingering on his for just a second longer than necessary. "Thank you for the dance," she said, her voice soft and yet filled with promise.

Benedict bowed, watching her as she turned and walked away, her scandalous dress drawing even more attention as she rejoined her sister and the other guests.

He exhaled, realizing he had been holding his breath.

As she disappeared into the crowd, Benedict couldn’t help but think that Caterina Medici was far more than she seemed, and perhaps, that was exactly what intrigued him most.

─────────

Dearest readers,

The ball of last night was nothing short of a spectacle, but it wasn't the glittering chandeliers or the flowing champagne that stole the evening's attention. Oh no, it was the attire of the notorious Medici sisters that set tongues wagging! Miss Caterina and Miss Teresa Medici shocked the ton by arriving in daring gowns with their backs scandalously exposed. How very… audacious of them!

It would appear the Medici sisters have introduced a new fashion to our ever-watchful London season, a daring display of Italian boldness, with backs bared more than one might deem appropriate for a respectable young lady’s wardrobe.

But that, dear readers, was merely the beginning. Lady Ducker's keen eye seems to have settled on a match for her son, Lord Edward Ducker, and it would appear Miss Teresa Medici is the favored candidate. A match to unite two prominent families? We shall see.

Yet, nothing has caught my quill quite like the simmering tension between Miss Caterina Medici and one certain Mr. Benedict Bridgerton. I saw everything, dear reader, stolen glances, whispered words, and a dance that left the room breathless. One wonders: what exactly is brewing between those two?

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

The morning air of the day after was cool, and a gentle breeze whispered through the bustling streets of London. The Medici sisters were walking gracefully along the streets of London, their dresses fluttering slightly in the breeze as their heels clicked against the cobblestones. The light murmur of their conversation was drowned out by the hum of activity around them, carriages rattling by, the calls of vendors, and the occasional laughter of passersby. However, all of that seemed secondary to the glances and murmurs from the other women, heads turning as they recognized the sisters, especially now after the most recent publication of Lady Whistledown.

Caterina held her parasol delicately, tilting it just to keep the sun from her face, while Teresa moved with an air of quiet reflection. The previous night’s ball, with all its gossip, danced uncomfortably in both their minds. Caterina, of course, was more amused than anything else. Teresa, however, was still processing what had been written in Lady Whistledown's Paper.

As they strolled, Caterina smirked and unfolded the paper she had been holding since breakfast, giving it another glance. "Well, Tess, if we weren't known before, we certainly are now."

Teresa sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging slightly. "Do we have to talk about it, Kitty? You know how Whistledown exaggerates."

Caterina’s eyes twinkled as she read aloud, her voice filled with mock drama. "it would appear the Medici sisters have introduced a new fashion to our ever-watchful London season, a daring display of Italian boldness, with backs bared more than one might deem appropriate for a respectable young lady’s wardrobe."

She laughed and looked sideways at Teresa. "Respectable? I believe Lady Whistledown may have finally run out of more scandalous things to write."

Teresa flushed, though a small smile crept onto her lips. "I didn’t think the gown was that scandalous. It was elegant. Tasteful, even."

"Tasteful, yes. But perhaps London society is not yet ready for this kind of taste," Caterina teased, folding the paper and tucking it into her reticule. "Still, we managed to turn quite a few heads. I think it’s a triumph."

"Mother will faint as soon as she will read the paper," Teresa said, shaking her head with a soft laugh. "I’m certain she would write to our aunt in Naples, asking for advice on how to handle such improper daughters."

Caterina grinned, clearly enjoying herself. "Oh, but we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet." She glanced at Teresa, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Lord Ducker."

Teresa’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. "Kitty, stop."

"I will not stop. Lady Whistledown practically devoted an entire paragraph to how Lord Edward’s attentions were fixed solely on you throughout the evening. And let’s not forget Lady Ducker’s strategic glances in your direction. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s plotting a match."

"You're reading too much into it," Teresa said, though she couldn’t entirely hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Lord Ducker was simply being polite. His mother… well, she’s just observant."

"Observant, yes," Caterina teased. "Observant of her son’s growing interest in you, perhaps? Tess, the man couldn’t take his eyes off you during your second ball. He’s clearly smitten."

Teresa let out a long-suffering sigh. "You're impossible."

"I’m only impossible because it’s true," Caterina grinned, nudging her sister lightly. "Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy his attentions."

"I… well, he is charming," Teresa admitted, her tone soft. "But there’s no need to get carried away."

Caterina smirked but decided to let her sister off the hook. For now. She was about to change the subject when something caught her eye. "Ah! The market’s ahead. Let’s go see if those accessories Olympia recommended are still there. I’m certain I saw a table with the exact stones I need for my gown tonight at the theater."

With a shared glance, the sisters altered their course, heading toward the market square. The air grew thicker with the smell of fresh-baked bread, sizzling meats, and the fragrant waft of flowers being sold from nearby carts. A cacophony of voices called out, from vendors selling their wares to buyers haggling over prices.

The market itself was a vivid tapestry of colors and sounds. Caterina led the way with the same determination she brought to every task, her eyes scanning the trinkets and jewelry laid out on various stalls.

She paused at one table, admiring a set of glimmering stones that matched her dress. "These are perfect," she murmured, picking up a delicate emerald-colored gem. "Olympia always has the best taste."

Teresa, standing at her side, admired the piece. "They’re beautiful, Kitty. Are you planning on wearing them tonight?"

Caterina nodded, distracted as her eyes flicked across the market. But then something unexpected caught her gaze, a small, unassuming stall near the end of the row, one that wasn’t adorned with the usual finery but rather had brushes and bottles of paint stacked neatly.

For a moment, Caterina stood still, the noise of the market fading around her. Her chest tightened as her eyes rested on the small collection of oil paints and canvases. Brushes of different sizes were laid out, the sight of them immediately conjuring a flood of memories. She remembered the days spent at home, under the dappled sunlight, painting… The world had felt so open, so full of possibility back then. Her hands, now adorned with jewelry, used to be stained with paint, marks of freedom and expression.

Her breath hitched slightly. It had been years since she had touched a brush, and yet here they were, simple and unassuming, waiting for someone to use them.

"Kitty?" Teresa’s voice was gentle, pulling her back to reality. "What is it?"

Caterina’s fingers hovered over the brushes, a strange mix of longing and sadness swelling within her. "Nothing" she whispered, barely loud enough for her sister to hear.

Teresa smiled softly in her direction. "You were brilliant at it."

"I…" Caterina said, her voice thick with emotion. Her fingertips brushed against the handle of one of the brushes, and the familiar texture sent a shiver down her spine. Could she still paint? Did that part of her still exist?

"You should get them," Teresa suggested quietly. "It might be nice to start again. You always seemed so at peace when you painted."

Caterina hesitated, biting her lip. The thought of starting again, of rediscovering that part of herself, felt daunting. Yet at the same time, something inside her yearned for it. She missed the feeling of losing herself in the strokes of a brush, the way the world melted away when she was creating something entirely her own.

"I… maybe," Caterina said, her voice barely above a whisper, but the thought lingered with her as they continued through the market. The paint, the brushes, and the memories clung to her as she walked alongside her sister, feeling as if she had uncovered a piece of herself that she had almost forgotten existed.

─────────

As the opera house buzzed with the excitement of London’s elite, Lady Marie Medici and her daughters, Caterina and Teresa, settled into their private box. The family had garnered quite the attention since arriving from Italy, especially at recent social events. Tonight, however, the opera promised to be a relaxing reprieve, or so they thought. Just as they were adjusting to the view of the grand stage, a soft tap of a cane and the distinct presence of Lady Danbury signaled a different direction for their evening.

"Lady Medici," Lady Danbury greeted with her sharp eyes gleaming, her voice cutting through the hum of the room. She leaned slightly on her cane, casting a knowing glance over at Caterina and Teresa, who smiled politely.

"Lady Danbury, always a pleasure," replied Lady Marie Medici, nodding respectfully.

“And of course, your charming daughters,” Lady Danbury added with a sly smile, her gaze lingering on Caterina, who raised an eyebrow but returned the smile, knowing better than to take Lady Danbury’s compliments at face value.

“Lady Medici, come with me. There’s someone you must meet,” she insisted, gesturing for Lady Medici to follow.

Caterina and Teresa exchanged a curious glance with her mother as she stepped across the box seats to the hallway to the others' adjoining boxes. There, Lady Bridgerton was engaged in conversation with some ladies.

“Lady Bridgerton, may I present Lady Medici?” Lady Danbury introduced.

“Lady Medici,” Violet greeted with a warm smile, her kind eyes settling on the Medici lady. “I’m delighted to finally make your acquaintance.”

“The honor is mine, Lady Bridgerton,” replied Marie Medici with a graceful nod. “I’ve heard much about your family in London.”

Violet chuckled lightly. “I do hope it’s nothing too scandalous! My family has had its share of adventures.”

“Oh, I assure you, we are no strangers to excitement ourselves,” Lady Medici responded with a smile.

“Your daughters have caused quite the stir in society, I must say,” Violet replied, casting an affectionate glance toward Marie.

Just then, Lady Danbury interjected, “And I must add, they have brought such a refreshing energy to the season. It’s a breath of fresh air.”

Violet nodded in agreement. “Indeed!”

Lady Medici chuckled, her gaze drifting toward the stage. “Well, we certainly encourage a bit of mischief. Life is too short to be dull, wouldn’t you agree?”

Violet leaned in conspiratorially, her smile was calm but meaningful. “Absolutely! And speaking of, I must confess that I’ve noticed that my nephew Lord Edward Ducker, seems to have taken a liking to your younger daughter, Lady Teresa.” She leaned in slightly, her tone a bit more personal. “I believe they make quite a charming pair.”

Lady Danbury cut in with a playful grin. “Indeed. It appears young Edward can hardly keep his eyes off her.”

Violet nodded thoughtfully. “In light of that, I would like to extend an invitation, Lady Medici, to you and your daughters. Please join us for a small, dinner tomorrow evening at Bridgerton House. I would very much like to get to know you all better.”

Lady Marie exchanged a brief look before smiling at Violet. “That would be lovely, Lady Bridgerton. We would be honored to attend.”

As they exchanged a few more pleasantries, Lady Danbury’s knowing smile never wavered, her sharp eyes flicking back and forth between the families as if plotting her next move. Soon, the lights dimmed, and the opera was about to begin, forcing the conversation to a close.

Later, as the performance was about to begin, Lady Medici announced the exciting news to her daughters.

“There’s news,” Marie began, folding her hands neatly in her lap as she looked at her daughters. “We have been invited to dinner at Bridgerton House tomorrow evening.”

Teresa’s face lit up instantly. “Dinner with the Bridgertons!” she exclaimed. “Mama, what a wonderful thing!”

In the semi-darkness of the opera house, Teresa leaned over to Caterina, her voice barely a whisper. “Dinner at Bridgerton House! Can you believe it? Mama seemed so calm about it.”

Lady Marie smiled warmly at her daughter. “Indeed, my dear. Lady Bridgerton extended the invitation herself, and it’s clear there’s some interest on behalf of their family.”

Caterina, however, leaned back against the chair, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “Interest, or matchmaking?”

“Both, perhaps,” Lady Marie said thoughtfully. “Lord Ducker has certainly taken a liking to you, my lovely.”

Caterina smiled faintly, though her mind was elsewhere. “She’s probably more interested in the alliance this could create.”

She gave her sister a sideways glance. “Lord Ducker, hmm?”

Teresa flushed but remained composed. “He’s…” Teresa’s face turned bright pink, and she nervously smoothed out the folds of her gown. “He’s very polite, kind, and attentive. That’s all.”

“Mmhmm,” Caterina teased, though her voice lacked its usual edge. Her mind was drifting.

Teresa pouted. “Kitty, stop it.”

“Enough, ladies,” Lady Marie interrupted with a gentle laugh. “It’s a good match. But we mustn’t get ahead of ourselves. Tomorrow is about making a good impression, not encouraging gossip.”

Caterina’s teasing faded, and she glanced in front of her, to the opposite box.

As the opera began, Caterina found her eyes drifting once more across the room, landing on Benedict Bridgerton, who sat attentively watching the stage, into the opposite box.

The dim light softened his sharp features, his focused expression surprisingly at odds with the lively, almost mischievous energy he exuded during their conversations.

There was something different about the way she felt when she was looking at him tonight, a strange, quiet ache in her chest, as though something within her was shifting.

The sharp retorts she always prepared for him felt less necessary, and instead, she found herself wondering about the dinner.

Would they speak? Would she see him across the table, his eyes searching for hers?

The thought caused an uncharacteristic flutter of nervousness in her stomach, and she quickly tore her gaze away, focusing back on the stage. What was this feeling? Anxiety? Excitement?

She exhaled softly, willing herself to stay composed, though her mind wandered. Tomorrow would be something, a test of her ability to maintain her composure, to keep Benedict Bridgerton at a distance. Yet, deep down, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to.

Across the way, in the Bridgerton box, Benedict Bridgerton was trying to concentrate on the performance too. Yet, his eyes were drawn across the room to Caterina.

“Are you going to stare at her all night, or do you plan to watch the play?” Anthony teased, smirking.

Benedict shook his head, chuckling lightly. “I was admiring the view, brother.”

“Right. Admiring. Just make sure you don’t miss the second act,” Colin added, grinning.

─────────

The soft glow of twilight filtered through the curtains as Caterina sat at her vanity, brushing out her curls in front of the mirror.

Teresa stood near the window, adjusting the necklace that sparkled against her neckline. They were both preparing for the much-awaited evening's dinner at The Bridgertons, a dinner that would place them directly in the company of the all family.

“Kitty,” Teresa began, her voice lilting with a teasing tone as she admired herself in the reflection of the glass. “You can’t deny it. He’s interested in you.”

Caterina, her hands still in her hair, met her sister’s eyes through the mirror, a wry smile forming on her lips. “Every gentleman of the ton is interested in me, sister,” she responded dryly, her voice edged with sarcasm. “It’s hardly news.”

Teresa laughed, shaking her head. “No, Kitty, I’m serious this time. Mr. Bridgerton. He’s really interested, and tonight, I’ll prove it to you.” She stepped away, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Caterina’s expression tightened as she whipped around to face her sister, her eyes widening in alarm. “No, you will not,” she said firmly, her tone bordering on panic. “Tess, don’t you dare say anything compromising tonight. Please.”

Teresa merely smirked, her eyes still fixed on her reflection as her maid fixed her hair. “Why not? You two have been practically eyeing each other every chance you get. And I’m sure the entire ballroom noticed last time.”

“Teresa Medici!” Caterina hissed, her voice rising in exasperation. She rose from the vanity and turned to face her sister fully. “I mean it. Don’t say anything compromising.”

Teresa just chuckled, her smug grin never fading. “Oh, Kitty. You know I won’t embarrass you… much.”

Caterina huffed, knowing her sister well enough to realize that once she had a plan, there was little hope of stopping her.

She turned back to the mirror, carefully smoothing down her gown and trying to push aside her growing apprehension. “Tess, please,” she said in a softer tone, hoping her sincerity would make an impact. “I don’t want to make a fool of myself tonight.”

Teresa stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder. “You won’t. Trust me. But it wouldn’t hurt for him to know you’re interested too, you know.”

Caterina let out a frustrated sigh, unable to suppress the nervous flutter in her chest at the mention of Benedict. “It’s not that simple,” she muttered, more to herself than to Teresa.

“Of course, it is,” Teresa replied lightly, giving her sister a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’ll see tonight.”

─────────

The dining room of Bridgerton’s house was alive with laughter and conversation, the room filled with the glow of candlelight as the Bridgertons and the Medici ladies gathered around the grand table. The warmth of the evening seemed to mirror the ease of the company, though Caterina couldn’t help the twinge of unease in her chest every time her eyes met Benedict’s from across the table.

She sat next to her sister, who was seated across from Benedict. The conversation flowed easily between the families, with Lady Bridgerton, Lady Ducker, and their mother sharing pleasantries about the evening's festivities.

The discussion naturally shifted as Lord Ducker leaned in and said to Teresa “…but he is not nearly as talented as my cousin Benedict. He truly excels in drawing and painting. A natural artist, you could say.”

Teresa’s eyes gleamed, and Caterina immediately tensed, sensing what was about to come. “You do, Mr. Bridgerton?” Teresa asked, her tone dripping with curiosity.

Benedict smiled humbly, casting a quick glance toward Caterina before replying. “I dabble, but it’s nothing serious. Just a recreation, really.”

Caterina froze, her fingers tightening around her fork. She hoped Teresa would drop it, but her sister wasn’t one to let an opportunity slip by.

“You know,” Teresa continued, grinning broadly, “My sister also draws. In fact, she’s rather good, isn’t that right, Kitty?”

Caterina’s head snapped up, her face flushing at the mention of her art. She could feel Benedict’s gaze on her, amused and curious. She swallowed hard, wishing for a moment that the ground would open up beneath her. Under the table, she shot a discreet but firm kick to Teresa’s shin, but her sister simply smiled.

“You do, Miss Medici?” Benedict asked, his voice rich with interest. His eyes never left hers, and the slight curve of his lips told her he was enjoying her discomfort.

Caterina forced a small smile. “Not anymore,” she said quickly, trying to downplay it. “It was just a childhood pastime. Times have changed… and so have I.”

“That’s not true,” Teresa interjected, clearly ignoring the daggers Caterina was glaring at her. “My sister is incredibly talented. You should see her work back in Italy, it’s stunning.”

“Teresa, that’s enough,” Caterina snapped, her voice cutting through the lively hum of the table. Everyone paused mid-conversation, their attention now turned toward her. The sudden silence was palpable, even the children stopped their chatter to stare.

Lady Medici, ever composed, sent both her daughters a reproachful glance. “Ladies,” she said firmly, though her tone remained quiet. “This is neither the time nor the place for bickering.”

Caterina swallowed her embarrassment and mumbled an apology. “Sorry, Mother,” she said, glancing down at her plate, feeling the weight of everyone's gaze on her.

Teresa chimed in, still looking amused, though slightly chastened. “Sorry, Mother,” she echoed, her voice light and carefree, though she shot a playful look at Caterina.

The rest of the dinner passed in relative calm, though Caterina couldn’t shake the lingering embarrassment. She could feel Benedict’s gaze flick toward her several times throughout the evening, and each time, her heart raced. But no more was said about art or her talent.

─────────

Later, after returning home, Caterina stormed into her bedroom, her cheeks still flushed with irritation. Teresa followed closely behind, closing the door behind her.

“Why did you bring that up at dinner?” Caterina demanded, whirling around to face her sister. Her voice was sharp, and she glared at Teresa with all the frustration she had been holding in throughout the evening.

Teresa shrugged, entirely unbothered by her sister’s anger. “I didn’t do anything wrong! It was Lord Ducker who mentioned Mr. Bridgerton’s art, and I just thought it was the perfect opportunity for you two to connect.”

Caterina let out a frustrated groan, pacing back and forth. “I told you I didn’t want to be involved in that conversation. It was irritating!”

“Irritating?” Teresa raised an eyebrow, her tone softening. “Kitty, it wasn’t irritating at all. Mr Bridgerton was clearly interested. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Caterina scoffed, shaking her head. “That’s not the point, Tess. I didn’t want my art to be a subject of discussion, especially not in front of him.”

Teresa stepped forward, her expression softening as she placed a hand on Caterina’s hand. “I’m sorry, Kitty, truly. But I just want you to see how interested he is. You’re so closed off sometimes… Let him in.”

Caterina’s anger wavered slightly at her sister’s words, but she remained resolute. “Goodnight, Tess.” Her voice was final as she opened her bedroom door, signaling the end of the conversation.

Teresa sighed, knowing better than to push her sister further. “Goodnight, Kitty,” she whispered before stepping out into the hallway.

As the door closed behind her, Caterina leaned against it, her mind still swirling with thoughts of Benedict’s lingering gaze.

[300yearschallenge]

In spring 1788 Sweden entered another war with Russia.

In May the mobilisation order came, and villages were left much emptier than before as several men were drafted.

Beau Rosdal, Charles Elias' cousin, was one of the men drafted. Leaving his adopted father Constantine, adopted sister Teresa, pregnant wife and his daughter behind.

Charles Elias' homestead was not a soldier's croft, but there were whispers that further drafts might come that could drag one of them into the war.

It hung over them, like looming thunder, waiting in staticy air for the first crack of lightning.

And then one day in June a military man knocked on the door, carrying a piece of paper.

"His Majesty Gustav III has called in an order to double the troops," he paused, eyeing their pale faces, "Which one among you is Theodore Tyrström?"

"No!" Charles Elias grabbed Theodore's arm. "No, no, don't. Don't you leave us."

Theodore gently pried his hand away with a small smile.

"It'll be alright, kid," he turned to the military man, "I am Theodore."

The man nodded, "You're to be a boatsman. Pack your things and come with me."

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3

[charlotte-of-wales]

Cousins King Philippe and Grand Duke Henri pose with their wives Queen Mathilde and Grand Duchess Maria Teresa and Portuguese President Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa prior to the IOC & Elysee Dinner at the Louvre ahead of the Paris 2024 Olympic Opening Ceremony | July 25, 2024

[sotwk]

I’ve recently read your headcanons about Glorfindel, where his mother is Findis, and I found that extremely cool, so I was thinking, do you have any more headcanons about characters families? I think if you’ve ever done something like a family tree of the elves and the connections between them would be awesome. I love the way you build your world.

Aww, thank you so much Anon! That's very kind of you. <3

Goodness, the mental gymnastics it takes to fabricate family ties for both canons and OCs while avoiding incest! I did draw up plenty of family trees to do it, but it's all on scratch notes now, and it was impossible to produce one whole clean copy!

Most of the genealogy work I did was to develop the family histories of my two OCs, Elvenqueen Maereth and Crown Princess Itarildë, wives of Thranduil and Mirion, respectively. Eryn Galen did not have a Ring of Power to preserve their realm, but they had a powerful royal family that worked together to act as a shield against Sauron's evils. The Queen and Princess are direct descendants of legendary Elves and carry greater "magic" in their blood than their husbands, fortuitously providing what the Woodland Realm needed to endure.

But I digress! Here are some of the other family connections I fabricated for the SotWK AU:

Glorfindel's wife, Elemírë (oc), is the twin sister of Elenwë, making Turgon and Glorfindel brothers-in-law.

Cirdan's wife, Eäriel (oc), is a granddaughter of Olwë, making her a niece of Eärwen and cousin of Galadriel.

Itarildë's mother, Nimeithel (oc) is the younger sister of Queen Nimloth of Doriath, making Itarildë Celeborn's grand-niece.

Beleg Cuthalion is Thranduil's uncle; the brother of his mother, Meluiel (oc).

Thus, in summary:

Maereth descends from Fëanor (maternal side) and Círdan (paternal side). She is essentially half Noldor, half Teleri.

Itarildë descends from Glorfindel (paternal side) and Galadhon (maternal side). She is roughly half Sindar, a quarter Noldor, and a quarter Vanyar.

SotWK Fancast: Michael Fassbender as Fëanor; Jennifer Connelly as Maereth; Ben Daniels as Cirdan; Patrick Wilson as Glorfindel; Teresa Palmer as Itarildë; Dougray Scott as Galadhon (father of Celeborn)

[usergreenpixel]

Hey Neighbors! So, this is only related to Napoleonic era very loosely, but I recently found out something interesting about Goya.

Or well, not GOYA HIMSELF per se, but one of the people he knew.

Meet María del Pilar Teresa Cayetana de Silva Álvarez de Toledo, the 13th Duchess of Alba, a patron of Goya and his ALLEGED lover/muse. We don’t know if they were lovers. The paintings below are Goya’s btw:

So, what is important to know here is that the Duchess of Alba was one of the wealthiest people in all of Spain.

One of the last descendants of a powerful aristocratic family, the Duchess was married off to a cousin at age 12 to keep their titles and wealth in the same family.

There is even a theory that the model who posed for The Nude Maja and The Clothed Maja was this particular woman, but this is not proven:

The Duchess died quite suddenly in her forties, officially of tuberculosis. Not much as truly known about her, though we DO know that she and her husband were childless.

However, the Duchess did have a foster daughter of sorts!

Meet María de la Luz, a child of Cuban slaves basically gifted to the Duchess, but promptly freed and raised as a daughter:

While the girl definitely was a victim of slavery and colonialism, she was the closest thing the Duchess had to a daughter and she even became a beneficiary of a large chunk of the impressive fortune of her foster mother.

María de la Luz could not become the next Duchess of Alba though, as Cayetana de Alba had male blood relatives who ended up getting the title and the lands, but María de la Luz was definitely set for life and still became very rich thanks to the inheritance.

We don’t know what happened to the girl, but there is a book that explores her story in the realm of fiction, and I think I’m going to review it in the future…

Here is the book btw!

It’s written by an Uruguayan author, who apparently wrote a book about Frev too…

The title here is translated as Cayetana’s Daughter, as that was essentially the relationship between the Duchess and María de la Luz.

P. S. ALL of the artwork shown was made by Goya, including the portrait of the Duchess with the baby.

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

when he's done renovating his lakeside cabin and he and teresa have had their baby and he's a happy stay at home dad all the lisbon kids will be BEGGING to spend all their holidays at uncle patrick's (and so will the van-pelt-rigsby kids). the man is never going to be bored, he's gonna have his own summer camp. he's gonna be the FBI's one accredited babysitter, I know it in my soul

jane hugging the kids at his wedding like he's on a mission to steal the 'best uncle' title from his new brothers in law (he's succeeding btw) and then learning right after that he's gonna be a dad again *screams*

[rafesfavbimbo]

Thinking about writing a Teresa/Rubi based reader with Rafe. For back story Teresa & Rubi are mexican novelas about two beautiful …like goddess beautiful women who come from very poor backgrounds and use their beauty & ambition to work their way to the top. While Teresa is a law student who married her sexy lawyer professor and eventually made his even wealthier best friend fall for her and took all his wealth.. Rubi stole and married her best friend’s very handsome and wealthy boyfriend and made her money that way. They’re both cutthroat, ambitious, conniving, very intelligent, vicious femme fatales and basically gold diggers but they both end up falling in love and changing. More-so Teresa who has the best character arc of any storyline IMO. They both crash out, threaten and hurt those around them (exactly like Rafe) and scare their mothers who are always trying to reprimand and bring them down to earth. They really reminds me of girl versions of Rafe. I really want to make a storyline like that… maybe she is Sofia’s cousin and Rafe falls for her hard bc that’s his equal. Just a very Bonnie and Clyde storyline. Let me know if you’d be into it hehe >.<

“When hunger comes through the door, love flies out the window. Love isn’t enough for me.” I would write her as a pogue who wants to be a Kook, with the intention of using Rafe for his money and successfully seducing him but she eventually falls for him because he’s just like her. He falls first but she falls harder and they have this intense and volatile, passion filled relationship UGHHH. Imma write it.

[noirsfantasy]

On the fourth day of Christmas...

𝔄 𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔬 ℜ𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔭𝔱. 𝟐

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Actor!Michael B Jordan x OC!Naomi Samuels

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Fluff

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛ 6.2K

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛ Naomi decides to go to the Christmas market with Michael, Dan, Ashanti, Teresa, and her husband James. Grandmother gives them an activity to do while they're out. A Christmas scavenger hunt. They decide to split into teams and Naomi ends up on a team with Michael... and Ashanti. It's looking like it will be an eventful day.

𝔞/𝔫 ➛ Y'all, why are there actually no Christmas movies with Michael B Jordan in them??? This man was made for the holidays! all I can say is that I'm wishing for him to be under my tree come Christmas day. But in all seriousness, this story is so fun to write and I just have so many ideas. Please let me know your thoughts and enjoy!

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

Part 1 Here

Part 3 Here

The morning sun spills its golden hues into my room. I groan as the light reaches my eyes, causing me to squint. I sit up in my bed, grateful that my scarf stayed on the entire night. Glancing at my calendar, I note that it's only six days until Christmas. I try not to focus on the fact that I'll be spending those six days with Michael B Jordan, the idea is still unbelievable to me. It's a bit chilly, so I make sure I have a warm pair of socks on before heading downstairs.

As I step into the kitchen, the enticing aroma of breakfast greets me. The lively chatter of family members already fills the air as they prepare for the day. I notice my grandmother sitting at the table, sipping her coffee. She's always been an early riser.

"Good morning, Mimi," she greets me with a warm smile. "Did you sleep well?"

"Morning, Grandmother. I slept like a baby. It's a bit cold in here, though." I reply, giving a small shiver and rubbing my hands together as I return her smile. "Can we turn the heat up?" Grandmother gives me a knowing grin.

"Oh no, darling. We not running up my electric bill. It is fine where it's at." She shakes her head and I sigh softly, rubbing my arms to heat them up. I turn to walk away, but she starts to speak again.

"Why don't you go find that young man and ask him to light the fireplace for you? I know he's somewhere around here." She suggests, her grin growing. "You know, since you're so cold," she chuckles, sipping from her mug again. I smile and roll my eyes as I get up and head to go look for him.

I make my way through the corridors of my childhood home, the wooden floor creaking slightly as I walk along the boards. It's still early, but most of the house is already awake and alive with the energy of this holiday season. After a brief detour through the kitchen, where my aunts mingle as usual, I head towards the den. There, sitting on the couch, I find Michael, deep in conversation with my younger twin cousins, Matthew and Mason.

"Hey, guys. What y'all talkin' 'bout?" I ask as I shuffle over to stand in front of them. The twins look up with wide eyes, clearly still starstruck by the presence of the famous actor. Michael flashes them a friendly smile, instantly putting the young boys at ease.

"We were just telling Michael about our favorite superhero movies!" Mason exclaims, his excitement palpable as he holds onto his Incredible Hulk toy.

"Who's your favorite superhero, Michael?" Matthew chimes in, listening eagerly. Michael leans back onto the couch, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Is it Killmonger?" Mason questions.

"Killmonger in some ways, could be seen as a hero with a lot of depth and character. But he's technically a villain." He explains. "I'd have to say that Spider-Man is my favorite superhero, but I did enjoy playing Killmonger." Matthew and Mason giggle at Michael's reply and I smirk, finding it endearing.

"But the real question is, which Spider-Man?" I ask in a teasing tone. Michael raises his eyebrows at me.

His expression immediately lights up as he recognizes my attempt at taunting him. He gives me a small smile and laughs.

"Oh come on now, Mimi, you know that doesn't even have to be a question. It's obviously Tom Holland."

"No!" both boys reply in unison, laughing and shaking their heads.

"It's obviously gotta be Toby! He's the original!" Mason shouts and Matthew nods enthusiastically.

"Well, personally, I think Andrew Garfield was the best," I add. The boys go silent and stare at me with disappointed looks.

"No offense, Mimi, but you've let us down," Matthew says, shaking his head slowly. I look at them shocked as they look back at me awkwardly.

"What? Why can't I have my own opinion on this?" I question with a laugh.

"You're just not cool like Michael is." Mason shrugs his shoulders and Michael raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Wowwww," I cross my arms in fake offense. "You know what? You boys haven't brushed your teeth this morning, have you?" I purse my lips at them and they drop their shoulders.

"No..." They both say as they slowly get up from the couch, groaning in protest.

"Uh uh, I don't wanna hear it. You got so much to say but you ain't even got clean teeth. Shameful." I taunt, causing Michael to laugh. "Make sure that Jessie girl brushes as well!" I call after them. Their mopey mood is replaced by a competitive one as they begin to challenge each other to who can get to their sister the fastest. Michael and I watch in amusement as they leave.

"Did you brush your teeth, Naomi?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. I narrow my eyes at him.

"Let's not go there, right now," I give him a sarcastic smile and he laughs a bit. "I need your help with something," I say, shuffling my feet.

"Sure, what do you need?" He responds, standing up from his seat.

"Well, it's absolutely freezing downstairs. Do you mind lighting the fire for me?" I ask, grinning sheepishly. Michael snickers at the request.

"Fireplace duty, huh? I think I can handle that." He follows me down to the living room and kneels next to the fireplace.

"Thank you," I say as I sit down on the floor in front of the fireplace and lean my back against the couch, watching as he adds the logs and lights a match. As soon as the fire starts to crackle, Michael steps back and glances at me. I realize that, even though it's early in the morning, he's dressed and ready for the day. The only thing he doesn't have on is shoes, but I still feel a bit embarrassed at my appearance. I haven't done anything to my hair and I am in my pjs still.

"You look pretty cozy over there, Naomi." He teases. I side-eye him slightly, turning to look at him as I hold my hands out to feel the heat and wiggle my toes while I let the fire warm my feet.

"I'm just trying not to freeze to death. I hate the cold." I retort, rubbing my hands together. Michael chuckles and sits down next to me, offering me his warmth. He leans his arm on the couch, letting it fall slightly so that his hand hangs over to the side of the couch where I'm sitting.

"Didn't you grow up here in the cold?" He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at me. I smile slightly, letting out a soft sigh.

"I didn't like it then and I don't like it now. It makes me glad I moved to New York. It's at least a little warmer there." I shrug, pulling my knees to my chest so I can be warmer.

"I understand it. I grew up in New Jersey, so I've had my experiences with the cold." He admits. Michael looks over at me, seeing me shiver. "You know, you don't gotta put on this act of being freezing cold." He says and he puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his side. "If you wanted to get close to me, you could've just said so."

I try to contain my shock, blushing at his boldness. My heart is racing and I'm hoping that he doesn't notice.

"It's not like that at all," I mutter, trying to keep my voice steady. He chuckles at my reaction.

"Oh yeah? Then what's it like?" He questions, noticing that I'm completely at a loss for words. I clear my throat and shrug.

"I just feel comfortable with you." I finally say, looking at him from the corner of my eye. I laugh, leaning into his shoulder.

"Better?" He questions as he rubs my arm to warm me.

"Much better. Thanks for the invitation." We both let out a light laugh, leaning back against the couch.

"I've got a question," Michael says after a moment.

"What's up?" I look up at him, realizing just how close to me he is.

"Why do they call you Mimi?" As he asks this, I stifle my laughter.

"Oh, God. That nickname haunts me everywhere I go!" I cover my face with my hands and Michael laughs at my reaction.

"What's wrong with it? I think it's cute." He winks at me playfully.

"It's little girl cute. Other names have cool nicknames like you have Mike and Daniel has Dan. But I just have this lil cutesy nickname, Mimi. Makes me sound like a kid." I rant adorably. Michael continues laughing until he composes himself.

"If it bothers you then why don't you choose a new nickname?" He suggests and I raise my eyebrow at him in confusion.

"Like what?" I question, doubting there's anything better for me. He thinks for a moment and then smiles when he's got it.

"Nao." He says waving his hand as if the name is supposed to appear out of thin air. I look deadpan at him and he starts laughing once more, a genuine smile on his face.

"Nao?" I raise my eyebrow even higher.

"You know, like Ne-yo, but cooler. Nao..." He does the thing with his hand again and I shake my head, giggling.

He continues to laugh as I mutter, "You're so corny." I roll my eyes at him and he gives me a playful shove.

"Well, you love it." He teases and I cross my arms. "So are you gonna consider the nickname or not?" He questions and I pause. My eyes shift to the side and a slow smile spreads across my face.

"I guess anything is better than Mimi," I concede with a sigh.

"Nao it is then." As Michael and I laugh with each other, we hear a loud bell from the kitchen. Michael looks at me with confusion.

"It's the breakfast bell. Means the food's ready. I should probably go get dressed." I mention. Michael removes his arm from around me and stands up offering his hand to help me up as well. I take it graciously. He pulls me to my feet, smiling warmly at me. Our hands linger for an extra second, our eyes locked onto each other.

"Alright, let me go see if I can help set the table." He says after a moment, letting go of my hand. He heads towards the kitchen, but not before calling back, "Don't forget to brush your teeth!" I smile to myself as I go back up the stairs.

As I walk through the common area to get to my room, I'm stopped by a voice behind me.

"You don't really think he'll go for you, do you?" I look over and see Ashanti in the doorway of the bathroom. I raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, already knowing I'm about to deal with some bullshit.

"Michael is a man who is way out of your league, don't you think?" She questions, crossing her arms.

"Ashanti, I'd love to get into whatever this is, but I need to get dressed," I say, turning away.

"I'm saying he should be with someone more on his level. Someone like me." She has a smug look on her face and I turn back towards her.

"Don't you already have a boyfriend?" I narrow my eyes at her.

"He's more of... a friend with benefits." She lies and I roll my eyes.

"You literally share an apartment with him." I retort.

"Don't try to deflect, Naomi. You need to back off of Michael, so I can show who he really should be with. A refined and classy woman with my social standing is the perfect match for a perfect man like him." I side-eye her as she spews these delusions.

"Whatever, Shanti. Have him, I don't care." I walk away before she can respond and shut my door. I should have known she'd come at me like that. It's always like this with her. She's jealous of me and wants Michael for herself. I won't try and stop her from going after him, but if he wants me, there's not much I can do about that. That being said, there's no telling if he likes either one of us. For one, we just met him yesterday, and two, we don't even know where his head is at right now.

I shake that conversation off and get ready for the day. I make it back to my bedroom, deciding to take a quick shower and change into something more decent to eat breakfast in. I'm feeling pretty good about myself until I remember the moment this morning with Michael and I suddenly get butterflies in my stomach. I take a few deep breaths and take my time to apply lotion and perfume.

After I feel I'm presentable, I slip on some jeans and a brown sweater to stay warm. I quickly brush my hair, checking myself in the mirror one last time before heading down to eat.

As I get down the stairs, everyone is already eating. I notice Ashanti sitting very close to Michael as she talks his ear off while he eats. Michael smiles politely, but it's obvious he's not into it. I head into the kitchen and grab some breakfast before sitting at the kitchen table, next to my mother.

"Good morning, Mimi." She greets me, smiling warmly at me.

"Morning, Mom. What are the plans for today? We doing anything?" I ask as I take a bite of food. My mother glances around the table, her eyes lingering for a bit on Michael and Ashanti.

"Well, I was thinking." She starts, "Why don't you older children take a trip to the nearby Christmas market? I'm sure there will be some great activities there."

"Sounds good," I reply. I steal a quick glance at Michael, who seems to be searching for an escape from Ashanti's chatter. Our eyes meet for a moment, and he offers a small smile. "Are we bringing the kids, too?" I ask, looking back at my mother. She shakes her head.

"Your uncles are taking the boys and Jessie to go sledding." She tells me and I smile at that.

"They'll love that," I say as I finish my food, putting my utensils on the plate. "Give me a call if you need me."

"Don't worry, baby, you just go have fun. Oh and..." She leans in to whisper to me. "Make sure to put the works on Michael. I need a son-in-law." She teases. I cover my face in embarrassment and sigh.

"I'll see you later, Mom." I laugh as I walk away, putting my dishes in the sink. After everyone is finished, I grab my brother, Teresa, James, Michael, and Ashanti and tell them what we're about to do.

"Hey guys, Mom suggested that we go to the Christmas market for the day. It's just a short walk down the street, y'all down?" I ask them.

"Oh my God! We used to love going to the Christmas market when we were younger, remember?" Teresa asks, beaming at the memories. I nod, smiling in response. James gazes admirably at Teresa as she brightens up. He always likes to see her happy.

"That sounds like a good plan. I've been dying for that food all year!" Daniel says excitedly. Michael laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

"I'm down to go. I've been wanting to see more of this place." He replies, looking a bit excited as well.

"Well, you already know if T is going, J will be there also," James smirks, leaning against the wall. Ashanti gives him a look of disappointment.

"Please, never refer to yourselves as 'T and J'. It sounds stupid." She tells them. James and Teresa both laugh and Ashanti rolls her eyes. "Oh, we're going to have so much fun!" She squeals, wrapping her arm around Michael's and leaning into him. He winces as she lets out a loud gasp, "Let me go get changed! There might be paparazzi there!" She giggles excitedly as she leaves the room to get ready. Michael gives Dan a surprised look.

"Is she always like that?" He asks, chuckling nervously. We all slowly nod our heads.

"I'm afraid so..." I reply.

"And, unfortunately, she's a professional at missing hints." Dan jokes and we all share a laugh. Grandmother makes her way over to us slowly, carrying six sheets of paper and six mini Polaroid cameras. Teresa's eyes light up once more.

"Are those what I think they are?" She inquires and Grandmother gives her a warm smile. Teresa reads her list carefully, eyes growing wide as she realizes what Grandmother has set up for us.

"Yes, it is, baby." We each are given a piece of paper and a camera. Upon closer inspection of the paper, we realize that it's a checklist.

"What is it?" Michael asks, a bit confused. I grin excitedly as I realize as well.

"It's a Christmas hunt!" I blurt out. Daniel looks excited as well and turns to Michael to explain.

"So, when we were younger, every year we'd visit the Christmas market and we'd do a holiday-themed scavenger hunt." He starts.

"Grandmother always made the list and we had to take pictures with each item on this list. We'd spend all day checking things off of it." Teresa chimes in.

"And, if we finish everything off of the list, we got to have Grandmother's famous Snickerdoodle Cookies! And a bunch of cute photos to put on the mantle." I add with enthusiasm. Michael looks at us all with amusement and nods his head.

"Okay, I'm in!" He tucks his list into his jacket and Teresa and I look at each other eagerly. Eventually, Ashanti returns from her room, dressed in a pink sweater and matching pink leggings.

"What? A scavenger hunt? You should've told me! I would have dressed accordingly." She whines. We all laugh and roll our eyes and head out the door, James and Daniel each pulling a wagon behind us.

The Christmas market bustles with activity as we pass the booths, and festive music all around. The colors and lights take me back to when I was just a little girl. The air carries a sweet scent of roasted chestnuts and the lively hum of joyous conversations.

"Wow, it seems like forever since I've been here," I say, my eyes lighting up as I look around.

"It hasn't changed a bit." Dan smiles, enjoying the nostalgia he gets from the place. I'm walking between Michael and Daniel and Ashanti clings to Michael's other side. Instead of letting her get the satisfaction of walking on Michael's arm, he links his arm with mine as well and I do the same with Dan so that we are all walking together. This seems to annoy her a bit, but we continue on. Teresa and James are walking hand in hand ahead of us and stop at the entrance of the market so we can make a game plan.

"Okay," I start, pulling out my list. "So it looks like we've got enough of things on here to keep us out here for a while." Everyone gathers around with their lists out.

"I've got an idea. How about we split up into teams? Three vs three?" James suggests.

"I like that. So who's on who's team?" Daniel questions. Teresa puts her arm on James' shoulder, smiling.

"It doesn't matter to me. Just as long as I have my boo with me. Otherwise, I'm lost." She says, causing me to giggle at her cuteness.

"Aww." He grins back at her. "I'll make sure to take good care of you then."

"You better. Or I'll come after you." She replies, punching his arm playfully. He laughs and puts his arm around her shoulder. Ashanti rolls her eyes once more at them.

"You two can do what you want, but I'm gonna stick with Michael." She says in a condescending tone. Michael raises an eyebrow at her, but he doesn't bother to argue. I shrug, already knowing she'd choose to team with him.

"Dan? Which team are you going to?" I ask and he gives me a mischievous smirk that seems to only have been seen by me.

"You know, I gotta team with my boy James and Cousin Tt." He shrugs his shoulders. "Sorry, I'm in it to win it." Dan and James dap each other up and I shake my head while laughing.

"Sigh, I guess I'm stuck with Ashanti and Michael," I say in mock annoyance, putting my hand on my forehead dramatically.

"Oh poor Naomi. Forced to walk around with the two hottest people here." Ashanti pretends to wipe a tear.

"Shut up." I roll my eyes.

"I'm just saying, we just look so good together." She wraps her arm around Michael's again and he looks off to the side. I feel the annoyance building but I push it back down.

"Don't be mad, girl, you know you're up there, too," Teresa assures me, nudging my shoulder.

"And besides, I wouldn't consider you being on my team a bad thing..." Michael replies, winking at me. A small smile comes across my face, but I quickly remove it.

"Perfect," Ashanti says under her breath, but I ignore her.

"Alright, teams. It's currently 1:00. We'll do as many items on our list as we can and meet back up here at 4. How does that sound?" James looks around at all of us and we nod in agreement.

"And the first one to find all of the items wins the cookies!" Teresa announces excitedly. We all chuckle a bit and nod again.

"You're on," I say competitively.

"Alright, see you back here in 3 hours." He says, handing his wagon to Michael and walking away with Teresa and Daniel.

"This'll be fun..." Daniel replies, nodding. Our teams split off to do their own thing and find the items on the list. Ashanti sticks to Michael the entire time, sticking to his side as though they were on a date. I have a feeling this is going to be a painful day.

"Okay, let's get started," I say with a determined smile. As we make our way through the market, we start looking at our list.

"Let's see, it looks like the first thing on the list is to take a picture with the most festive-looking person in the market," I say and Ashanti grabs her camera, handing it to me.

"Oh, that's easy." She does a little twirl and puts her hands under her chin. "It's obviously me." Michael and I glance at each other and start laughing.

"I'm not so sure that pink sequins and fur coats exactly scream 'festive'," I giggle and she shoots me a glare.

"Well, what would you know?" She turns her nose up.

"How about her?" Michael says, pointing towards a woman walking in the snow with a beautiful umbrella. She's wearing a cozy red dress and has Christmas trees stitched to the fabric. She has a green fur shawl on and lights braided into her hair.

"Now THAT'S festive," I grab my camera and we all start heading to her, Ashanti groaning under her breath. "Excuse me, miss!" I catch her attention and she turns around, smiling as we approach her.

"Hi, I'm Naomi, this is my cousin Ashanti and our friend Michael." I introduce. She holds her gloved hand out and shakes mine.

"Hello, I'm Helen." She does a small curtsy. After exchanging pleasantries, Michael asks her if she'll take a photo with us. Helen says yes and holds her umbrella out as we get someone to hold the camera for us. We gather around her and smile. With a flash of the camera, the small Polaroid photo ejects out the top and starts to develop. We thank the kind gentleman who took the picture and thank Helen. She walks away and we happily check the first item off the list.

"Alright, that's one off the list." Michael pumps his fist in the air and gives us both a playful high-five.

"Okay, next thing," I say, tucking the photo into my pocket. We set off to check more things off of the list. "We need to take a photo with a street performer or musician. That shouldn't be too hard; the market is filled with them."

As we continue through the lively market, we encounter various street performers showcasing their talents. From musicians playing cheerful tunes to magicians captivating the crowd, the festive spirit is in full swing. We finally settle on a group of carolers dressed in Victorian-era attire, harmonizing beautifully.

"Perfect," Michael declares, "Let's ask them for a quick photo!" As we approach, the carolers welcome us warmly, and we pose in front of the Polaroid.

"Ooh, let me choose the next one!" Ashanti says, pulling out her list. "How about the handmade ornaments?" She suggests.

"Now you're talking," I reply with a smile and we head towards the market's craft section. There are many booths with cute wooden trinkets, nutcrackers, and toys. After a bit of searching, we finally settled on a booth.

"Oh my gosh! This one would go perfectly on the tree! Don't you think?" Ashanti picks up an ornament that is covered in pink sparkles and shimmers. Michael and I grin at her, nodding in agreement.

"It really screams Ashanti," I comment and she takes it to the vendor to buy. I look around for a bit, wondering what I should get.

Michael picks out a small carved wooden reindeer from the section and I settle on a mini clay Santa Claus. I look back over at Ashanti and see her holding a star ornament made out of gold wires and encrusted with gems. I raise an eyebrow at her.

"I thought you wanted the other ornament?" I ask with a snicker. She simply smirks.

"I know, but this one is just speaking to me right now. I have to get it."

"Well, I gotta admit, it does look pretty festive," Michael adds, nodding his head. Ashanti smiles proudly.

"See, Michael likes it." She playfully sticks her tongue at me and I laugh.

"Don't worry, I like it as well." I look at my Santa Claus ornament and head over to buy it from the vendor. We take our pictures with the ornaments and place them in our wagon.

"Alright, that's three down, we're making good progress," Michael says as we start to walk again. He looks at the list and smiles. "I like this next one." Ashanti and I both look at his sheet to see what he's pointing to. It says "Find a mistletoe and take a group photo underneath it." Ashanti immediately lights up.

"Oh! I remember where they sell those!" She says, grabbing Michael's hand enthusiastically and pulling him in the direction of the booth. I sigh, shaking my head as I grab the wagon and follow behind them.

When I finally catch up, I see them standing in front of a charming mistletoe display near a Christmas tree vendor.

"Naomi, you hold the mistletoe, and Michael and I will kiss, okay?" She suggests and I raise my eyebrows at her. She's being bold today. Michael chuckles nervously and takes the mistletoe from Ashanti.

"How about you both hold the mistletoe and you both kiss one of my cheeks while I take the photo? That'll be a good picture for sure." He holding the mistletoe out to us. I exchange a playful glance with Ashanti, who seems to be more interested in being near Michael than holiday fun. Nevertheless, we gather beneath the mistletoe and we lean in to kiss his cheeks. Michael makes a silly face and snaps the photo. The result is a cute selfie that really captures the fun that we are having.

Over the next hour, we get pictures with a holiday elf, a gingerbread house, and even a guy with an ugly Christmas sweater. Ashanti keeps trying to cling to Michael, but he always seems uninterested in her. Instead, he makes sure to include me in the fun and we all have a good time hunting for the items off of the list.

"Dang, it's already 3:00," Michael tells us, checking his watch.

"And we've only got 9 things marked off the list." I sigh and Ashanti groans loudly.

"Ugh, this is taking forever!" She whines, dropping her shoulders.

"Well, this next one should be great, then. We need to take a pic drinking some hot chocolate. We can rest a bit there." I suggest. Michael smiles at the idea.

"Sounds good to me." He says and Ashanti nods as well.

"Oh, yes! It'll be the perfect pic to post on my story." She says, completely forgetting about the scavenger hunt and walking ahead of us. Michael walks beside me, breathing a sigh of relief.

"What, do you miss your little girlfriend?" I ask, teasingly. Michael rolls his eyes playfully and shakes his head.

"Don't even get me started on her." He replies, shaking his head as he laughs. "She's very determined, I'll give her that. But can I breathe?" He shudders and I laugh.

"Well, I guess that's the price of being a famous actor, Mr. Jordan," I smirk at him and he raises his eyebrows.

"So, it's like that then?" He questions, faking a look of hurt.

"Oh yeah, especially after today," I reply with a nod. Michael smiles mischievously at me and puts his arm around my shoulders.

"Aw, are you upset because Shanti keeps stealing me away from you, Ms. Samuels?" His voice is low as he leans into my ear and I find myself blushing again. I ignore the feeling of butterflies as I wrap my arm around his waist, looking up at him.

"Oh yeah, I'm so jealous, right now. I just want you all to myself." Sarcasm drips off my voice as our back-and-forth banter causes us both to burst out laughing.

"If I'm honest, I feel less pressured when I'm around you," Michael admits. "Most people treat me like I'm royalty or something, or they just see me as a celebrity. But I don't feel that with you. I feel like I'm just some regular guy and like you actually genuinely like me."

"Well, I do genuinely like you. You're more than just an actor and I think you deserve to be treated like a human being." I smile at him, leaning my head on his shoulder. Michael gently rubs my arm and gives me a reassuring smile.

"Thanks. I'd be lying if I didn't say that I genuinely like you, too," He whispers, playfully nudging me as we continue to walk. We catch up to Ashanti at the booth, where she's sitting on a stool posing for selfies with her mug. I sit next to her and Michael sits beside me, causing her to glance over at us.

"It's about time you two came over. Here, Naomi. Take some pics for me." She shoves her phone into my hand and I sigh, holding it up for her as she does various poses. Michael chuckles and starts ordering drinks from the vendor. When Ashanti finishes, she snatches her phone back to look at the results.

"You're welcome," I mutter under my breath. Michael slides a mug of hot chocolate towards me and I accept it graciously. "Thanks, Michael," I say, appreciating the gesture.

"Of course, here." He says, taking his Polaroid and standing it up against one of the menu stands. He sets the timer on the camera and leans close to me, flashing a smile and holding his mug up. I do the same and the camera flashes, printing out the photo. We clink our mugs together as the photo develops and begin to sip the hot chocolate.

Ashanti, noticing us clink our drinks together, seems upset again and pouts, glancing over at me before turning back towards Michael. We make eye contact and I give her a smile because I'm in a good mood and not about to be a killjoy. She ignores my attempt to be kind, though, as expected.

After finishing our hot chocolate, Michael stands up and picks up his camera. "All right, it's about time we get out of here. We're halfway through our list. Team, what items do we still have left?" I pull out my list and scan over it.

"Next one says to find a gift for someone in the family and have it gift-wrapped," I reply, before looking up and seeing the others. Teresa, James, and Dan stroll over all grinning at us.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is." Daniel gives us a smug smirk as they walk over.

"What's the smug look for?" I step up to him and cross my arms and he does the same.

"Oh, nothing, just worried you might go hungry when we eat all those cookies in your faces." He responds and we both glare at each other jokingly before breaking out into laughter.

"You two are something else." Teresa shakes her head.

"Don't act like you're not just as competitive, Teresa. I still have back pain from playing musical chairs with you." Dan retorts, rubbing his lower back. Michael leans over to whisper in my ear.

"Remind me never to play musical chairs with her." He says and I nudge his shoulder playfully.

"Have y'all gotten to the snowman one yet?" James asks and we all shake our heads. "Perfect, how about a contest, then?"

"A snowman-building contest?" Ashanti gives him a look of confusion.

"Yeah, each team makes the best snowman they can think of," Teresa adds.

"What does the winning team get?" Michael inquires.

"Nothing, it's just for fun."

"Oh, no, I don't do these types of things for 'fun'. There's gotta be something at stake." Ashanti says, tapping her foot.

"How about the loser has to knock down their snowman and take their photo with the remains," I suggest with a mischievous smile on my face.

"I like the sound of that." Dan nods.

"Let's do it!" Teresa shouts and we all head over to a wide patch of snow. The teams huddle to discuss our strategies and then take a couple minutes to gather any items we need.

"How about we make a fashion icon snowman?" Ashanti suggests.

"No, it's got to be something outside of the box. Something no one would think of." Michael replies, tapping his chin as he thinks. I smile once an idea comes to me.

"What about an upside-down snowman?" I look at their faces to see their reaction. "Who is also a fashion icon," I add and they both slowly smile.

"I've gotta admit, that is pretty outside the box. Let's go get the stuff!" Ashanti says and we hurry to find supplies. The snowman building begins and we enthusiastically make a snowman with its head buried in the snow, making sure that the other team doesn't see what we're doing. Michael, Ashanti, and I work together to create the perfect snowman, laughing as we give it quirky accessories and make it stand out.

Daniel's team reveals their snowman to be a gentleman with a top hat and a scarf, seemingly scrolling on a phone that happens to belong to James. We all get a kick out of it, but I know that ours is the one that's really gonna blow them away. We bring them over to our snowman and they immediately start laughing, enjoying how we put boots on top of the snowman for its feet.

"Wow! Okay, I think it's obvious that's the winner right there." James says in surprise.

"What can I say? We've just got that creative touch." I say, putting my elbow on the snowman. Unfortunately, it wasn't packed together sturdy enough and my added weight caused it to crumble and me to fall on top of it.

"Naomi!" Ashanti shouts, annoyed that I ruined the snowman. Michael rushes over to help me up as Dan, Teresa, and James all laugh at the sight. Michael is laughing a bit too, but he makes sure I'm okay and pulls me to my feet. I brush snow off my bottom and chuckle at my clumsiness.

"Oh shit, I didn't mean for that to happen." I rub my neck sheepishly and look over at Ashanti, who looks livid. "You okay, Ashanti?"

To Be Continued...

[furienna]

M - W

Mama Bear: Míriam and Pepa had a big brawl one time, when Camilo hit Víctor in the stomach with a football. Míriam began to yell at Camilo for "hurting" Víctor, and Pepa arrived to defend her son and almost caused a storm.

Masculine Girl, Feminine Boy: Downplayed as Teresa isn't masculine otherwise, but if someone bullies her brother or insults her father, she will become mad and want to fight, while Víctor is more likely to do nothing except start to cry.  * It's implied that Bruno and Pepa were like this as well when they were younger. Pepa is hardly that masculine otherwise either, but she's got a terrible temper. And it's revealed that years ago, she used to hit Bruno's bullies with lightning. And as for him, he seems to have simply had to wait for his sister to save him. 

The Medic: Julieta's power is that she can heal people with her cooking.

Momma's Boy: Bruno was very controlled by his mother when he was younger, and he still has to look into people's futures because she says so. He was only able to ever stand up to her after he got married, but he still chooses his battles. * Víctor prefers to let his mother Míriam treat his wounds when he's attacked, despite the fact that his aunt Julieta has a healing power. And he will let Míriam pamper him because he can't say no to her. But he's a rare case of this trope, who is lucky enough to have a father and to have a good relationship with him. * And also, both Pablo and Mariano are shown to be very close to their mothers. And Teresa and Dolores agree that it's a good quality.

Muggle Born of Mages: While it's true that her father has no magic in his family, Mirabel is the first kid in two generations of her mother's family to have no "gift".

Multigenerational Household: Teresa and Víctor and their parents share a house with the following relatives: a grandmother, two aunts, their husbands, and even six cousins. When they lose the Casita, they have to go live with their maternal grandparents instead. But it makes them qualify for this trope again. 

My Beloved Smother: As a single mother with war trauma, Abuela Madrigal has been a controlling force in the lives of her three children. She's pleased to know that they all became Happily Married. But now, it is time to push the grandkids into marriage! She becomes a lot better after the Casita crumbles though. * Míriam is dangerously close to being this too as she's very protective of Víctor. This is kind of justified by how often he has fainted though. And luckily, Bruno is good at guiding him without pampering him. Míriam is notably less smothering towards Teresa, except that she shows a bit of concern when she meets Pablo. But that is because Míriam's sister is stuck in a bad marriage, and she's afraid of seeing Teresa end up in a similar situation…

Obnoxious In-Laws: Downplayed with Abuelo Gonzalez, Bruno's father-in-law. He told Abuela Gonzalez once that he wondered if Bruno is "right in the head", and he doesn’t get how he can have rats as pets as he sees them as vermin. Bruno decides to simply do what he can to never ever anger his father-in-law. And usually, that is good enough to keep Abuelo Gonzalez satisfied. However, Teresa is fully aware that her father and her abuelo have a strained relationship.  * There's a bit of tension between Míriam and Abuela Madrigal too, since Míriam once insisted that Víctor was too young to work. He was only five years old then, but the thought that a magic gift wouldn't be used really scared Abuela Madrigal. This ended with a big brawl. And even though they mostly just let each other be after that, Míriam just knew that she could only defy Abuela Madrigal once.

Official Couple: Bruno and Míriam are the main couple in the first two chapters. But later in the story, Teresa and Pablo are this instead.

Only Friend: Teresa and Mirabel are close despite an age difference of six years. And when Teresa meets Pablo, Mirabel is very afraid that she will be all alone.     * Later, Pablo refers to Mariano as his only friend. And still, they had only started to talk to each other after Pablo started dating Teresa.

Personal Rainclowd: Pepa will often get one if she gets upset about something. But if she's really upset, it is even possible for her to cause a hurricance or make it snow. 

Power Incontinence: It is very easy for the Madrigals to lose control of their gifts. Teresa and Bruno can see people's futures by accident if they get angry, Pepa is known to cause a storm if she's upset, Isabela even hurts Mariano with a plant.

The Quiet One: Dolores is clearly the least talkative one out of the Madrigals. Teresa found it hard to even talk to her until they both found a boyfriend, so they could talk about that and have double dates.  * Leonor is very quiet too and just works in the shop without causing any trouble. But she and Teresa have one important conversation about their father figures, which is more than enough to clue Teresa in on that Leonor hides a lot of pain. 

Raised By Grandparents: This happened to Teresa's cousin Leonor, who had to live with Abuelo and Abuela Gonzalez. Her mother had to leave her with them, because she married a violent drunk and wanted to keep her daughter from him.

Red Oni, Blue Oni: Pepa is very emotional and capricious (red), Julieta is calm and responsible (blue). * Míriam is clearly more introverted and responsible (blue) than her flighty sister Malena (red). * Agustín is calm and composed (blue), Félix is jolly and extroverted (red). * Mirabel is bubbly and talkative (red), Dolores is calmer and quiet (blue). * Camilo is extroverted and loves to entertain people (red), while Víctor is introverted and prefers to stay at home and read (blue). * Camilo is furthermore an extroverted red to either of his siblings, as Dolores and Antonio are introverted blues. 

Seers: Bruno and Teresa can look into the future. But it becomes a burden when people accuse them of causing their bad luck… 

Sensitive Guy and Manly Man: Pablo seems to have been more fragile than his brother Manuel, who managed to become a strong carpenter like their father.

Settle For Sibling:  Even though Isabela and Dolores are cousins and not sisters, they end up in a variant of this trope. Everybody seems to just expect Mariano to propose to Isabela, but she's not interested and is only agreeing to it to please Abuela Madrigal. Dolores happens to be in love with Mariano though, but she won't say anything about it until Teresa has a vision about them. But in the end, Isabela is free to not agree to a loveless marriage. And it leaves Dolores free to date Mariano…

Sibling Yin-Yang: Pepa is hot-tempered and emotional, Julieta is calmer and more responsible. Bruno is pretty much a middle ground between his sisters, being introverted but still very likely to show emotions like anxiety and shame.  * Míriam is very responsible and more introverted, Malena is very flighty and more extroverted. * Isabela is seen as the family beauty and a "perfect princess", Luisa is very tall and strong and muscular, and Mirabel is neither too girly-girly nor too tomboyish, but she's looking for her purpose in the family, where she's the only kid who has has no magic gift. * Dolores is very calm and quiet, Camilo is very mischievous and an entertainer, and Antonio has animal friends, but he will be introverted around people. * Pablo has never been as strong or as good at carpentry as his brother Manuel, but he turns out to be less judgemental than most of his family as well. 

Sickeningly Sweethearts: Míriam is fond of hugging and kissing Bruno in public, even if people are annoyed by it. Bruno and Míriam can also be lovey-dovey in front of their kids, and that is after twenty-two years of marriage.

Single Woman Seeks Good Man: Míriam quickly knew that despite his terrible reputation among the villagers, Bruno was notably nicer than her sister's suitors. And she also saw that Agustín and Félix were good for Julieta and Pepa.  * And in the following generation, Pablo is truly good for Teresa. He is the only villager to feel bad about not doing anything, when a group of bullies had attacked Víctor, or to show some skepticism about all the terrible rumors about Bruno, and even to accept that rats can be pets. Likewise, Dolores fell in love with Mariano because of his Nice Guy qualities.

So Proud of You: Bruno is very good at telling Víctor that he's so proud of him. But as Teresa has been seen as stronger and her parents focus more on Víctor, she has never been told that. When she's able to replicate one of her father's visions though, Bruno finally does tell her that he is proud of her.

Speaks Fluent Animal: Antonio's power is that he communicates with animals.

Super Hearing: Dolores's power is that she can hear everything in the Encanto.

Supreme Chef: Julieta's power is that she can heal people with her cooking.

Tomboy and Girly-Girl: Tall and muscular Luisa is strong enough to lift up the village church. Isabela is known as the family beauty and a "perfect princess". But it changes after Isabela has a make-over…

Town Girls: Isabela is seen as a great beauty and a "perfect princess" (femme). Luisa is tall and strong and muscular (butch). Mirabel is between them being neither that girly-girly nor that tomboyish (neither). 

Understanding Boyfriend: If a guy wants to date one of the magic Madrigal girls, he has to be this. Teresa is even astonished by how Pablo is almost too good to be true, but she can find comfort in that he and Mariano are there for each other.

Unusual Pets for Unusual People: Bruno and Víctor keep rats as pets, which is seen as very strange and adds to their bad reputation. Teresa grosses a group of girls out by picking up a rat. And even Abuelo Gonzalez calls rats "vermin", when Víctor has three of them in a cage when they must stay with their abuelos. That leads to a bit of conflict as Bruno of course will support his son about this…

Violently Protective Wife: Downplayed as Míriam doesn’t actually use violence, but all the villagers know that she will chase them away from Bruno. Justified as looking into the future for too long gives him migraines, and it could even make him faint...

Weather Manipulation: Pepa's mood is what decides the weather in the Encanto. So you will have good weather if she's happy and bad weather if she's unhappy.

World's Strongest Woman: Luisa's power is her super strength.

[butevrythinggoesaway]

Anyways transfem noir headcanons (or should I say noire)

Her name is Penelope, she gets Penny'd and it drives Peni nuts (she also considered Petra, Bridgette, and Belladona). You'll will have to pay her to give up Penelope.

She found out after talking to Gwen, and she mentions something that Gwen recognises because she's been there, and she's like, "hey, you probably wont react well to what I'm about to say, but I think youre a trans woman." And Penelope's like "what? No, couldn't be me." Anyways they spend the next two weeks talking to a bunch of trans spiders and the therapist spider man and by the end of it Penelope's like "aw shit, this explains a lot." (At the same time they discover she's autistic. It's a very enlightening two weeks.)

Everyone's really opening and happy for her and she gets lots of hugs. Her favourite response was from Hobie, who said "I thought you already knew?"

The adults like to middle name her when she's in trouble. She mostly gets "Penelope Barnadette Parker"'d or "Penelope Bridgette Parker"'d, but on one occasion, from Miguel of all people, "Penelope Adrianna Parker," which scared the shit out of her (for obvious reasons if you're familiar with my blog)

Felicia and May find out completely by accident and are also really accepting, with Fel saying "I always wanted a daughter, just like you." Teresa and Eddie were also told. Eddie was like "damn I'm being overrun by sisters. Congratulations little sis." And Teresa's like "ooh yay! I prefer having a sister than two brothers!"

Felicia, May and Teresa go out and find some nice dresses and stuff, and Eddie starts gaslighting New York that Penelope's their cousin, Peter's gone to live with their other aunt and uncle.

The spider god help disguise Penelope's really recognisable features like her eyes and her teeth when they do this.

She's been invited to girls' day outs with Jess, Gwen, Margo, Peni and LYLA. She doesn't go often because oh god people, but she tries to go as often as she can. The first time she comes along after finding out/coming out, she gets pulled through the women's section in several clothes stores in several different worlds so they can find her some new clothes. LYLA pays for it all from Miguel's funds and justifies it as a birthday present. When Penelope's like "it's not my birthday", LYLA says "well, recently was the birth of the real you, and I count that."

No one actually knows when Penelope's birthday is, so they all just decide to celebrate her coming out day as her birthday

Now this all with Penelope in the spider society, and there's no way she'd actually stick around, so I'd like to quickly go over that: Penelope and Ham are both told that Miles's world can't be located, and just don't get told about "canon events" because Penelope is absolutely a murder risk.

Penelope gets kicked out the day she finds out that Miles' location is known, Miguel just hates him for no reason, she flips out in typically the Spider fashion, and attacks him. He slices through her hair with his claws in the attack and traps her in one of those red cage thingies.

The adults are desperately telling him not to send her home, it's not safe, the portal will open where she left from and that was in the middle of a men's prison. Ham goes on strike after Miguel sends her back, agreeing with Hobie and Margo that they'll try to find Miles then skidaddle. Ham goes to her world to help protect her until they can find Miles.

Ham helps clean up her hair cut while she cries because she hates her hair being cut and she doesn't want it to go too short, but Miguel sliced it to just above her shoulders. Ham tidies it so it's just below her chin, and he makes sure to style it so it's as wild and volumous as she usually keeps it in an attempt to cheer her up.

She pads her uniform vest, justifying it to the others as some "extra armouring", so it looks like she has breasts, albeit small. She doesn't want anything big.

She also changed the trousers for something more baggy so her crotch just looks a bit like the trousers pinned in strangely when she attached her leg holsters

Margo paints her nails/claws different colours sometimes

Gwen showed her how to do makeup to make her face shape look a bit different. She only uses it when she's out with the girls, and leans into a sort of goth punk aesthetic. This leads to people thinking her natural eye colour is just some really funky eye contacts and it's the only time she doesn't feel horrible about them.

She's got a bit of a reputation in Gwen's world for a number of reasons but mostly for beating up four men while wearing heeled boots (they were spikey, she will admit, but she barely kicked them). In Gwen's world, if you're gonna be a dick, you gotta fear the yellow eyed goth chick taking away your breathing privileges

[miryum]

Minho: Oh, we're like a big, happy family! And I'm the dad, and Newt's the mom! 

Newt: Why am I the mom? What gender roles are we pushing here? 

Thomas: I know they think I'm like the son, but I'm NOT! I'm the gay, emo cousin! 

Chuck: I will be the son! The hotshot! Who's only dream... is to be a star 

Gally: I feel like I'd be the fresh outta jail uncle... 

Teresa: And we're the sassy aunts 

Y/n: ... Who talk sh*t about everyone *takes gulp of wine*

[radical-revolution]

BEING LOVE

The most important aspect of love is not in giving or the receiving: it’s in the being. When I need love from others, or need to give love to others, I’m caught in an unstable situation. Being in love, rather than giving or taking love, is the only thing that provides stability. Being in love means seeing the Beloved all around me.

I’m not interested in being a “lover.” I’m interested in only being love. In our culture we think of love as a relational thing: “I love you” and “you are my lover.” But while the ego is built around relationship, the soul is not. It wants only to be love. It’s a true joy, for example, to turn someone whom you didn’t initially like into the Beloved. One way I practice doing so is by placing a photograph of a politician with whom I intensely disagree on my puja table – my altar. Each morning when I wake up, I say good morning to the Buddha, to my guru, and to the other holy beings there. But I find that it’s with a different spirit that I say, “Hello Mr. Politician.” I know it sounds like a funny thing to do, but it reminds me of how far I have to go to see the Beloved in everybody. Mother Teresa has described this as “seeing Christ in all his distressing disguises.” When I realized that Mother Teresa was actually involved in an intimate love affair with each and every one of the poor and the lepers she was picking up from the gutters in India, I thought to myself, “ That’s the way to play the game of love.” And that is what I have been training myself for the last past quarter century: to see and be with the Beloved everywhere.

One of the interesting aspects of seeing the Beloved in this way is that it doesn’t require the other person to see him – or herself as the Beloved. All that’s necessary is that I focus on my own consciousness properly. It’s interesting to notice, though, how warmly people respond to being seen as the Beloved, even if they don’t know what’s happening. (Of course, it all assumes that all your feelings are genuine and that you aren’t compelled to act on them or to lay any sort of trip on the other person. The idea is simply to live and breathe among the Beloved.

The way I work at seeing others (like the politician), as the beloved is to remind myself, “This is another soul, just like me, who has taken a complicated incarnation, just as I have. I don’t want to be in this incarnation any more than he wants to be in mine. But since I want to rest in my soul and not in my ego, I would like to give everybody the opportunity to do the same.”

If I can see the soul that happens to have incarnated into a person that I don’t care for, then my consciousness becomes an environment in which he or she is free to come up from air if he or she wants to. That person can do so because I’m not trying to keep him or her locked into being the person that he or she has become. It’s liberating to resist another person politically, yet still see him or her as another soul. That’s what Krishna meant when he said, “I’m not going to fight, because they are all my cousins on the side.” We may disagree with one another in our current incarnation, but we are all souls.

A story I have told many times reinforces this point. Some years ago I put out a set of records called Love, Serve, Remember. The records – which had music, readings from the Gospel of John, and all kinds of neat things – came in an album with a beautiful booklet with text and pictures. It was a wonderful package, and we sold we sold it by mail order for about $4.50.

I showed the album to my father. Dad was a wealthy Boston Lawyer – a conservative Republican, a capitalist, and, at the time, the President of a railroad. He looked over the album and said, “Great job here! But, gee, you know – four and a half dollars? You could probably sell this for ten dollars – fifteen dollars, even!”

I said, “Yeah, I know”

“Would fewer people buy in if it were more expensive?,” he asked.

“No,” I relied. “Probably the same number would buy it”

“Well I don’t understand you,” he pressed on. “You would sell it for ten, and your selling it for four- fifty? What’s wrong, are you against capitalism or something?”

I tried to figure out how to explain to him how our approaches are differed. I said, “Dad didn’t you just try a law case for Uncle Henry?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “ and it was a damned tough case. I spent a lot of time in the law library.”

I asked, “Did you win the case?” And he answered, “Yeah, I won it.”

Now, my father was a very successful attorney, and he charged fees that were commensurate with his reputation. So I continued. “Well, I bet you charged him a hand and a leg for that one.”

Dad was indignant at the suggestion. “What, are you out of your mind? That’s uncle Henry – I couldn’t charge him.”

“Well, that’s my problem,” I said. “If you find anyone who isn’t Uncle Henry, I’ll rip them off.”

The point I was trying to make is that when you see the Beloved all around you, everyone is family and everywhere is love. When I allow myself to really see the beauty of another being, to see the inherent beauty of soul manifesting itself, I feel the quality of love in that beings presence. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing. We could be talking about our cats because we happen to be picking out cat food in the supermarket, or we simply could be passing each other on the sidewalk. When we are being love, we extend outward an environment that allows people to act in different, more loving and peaceful ways than they are used in behaving. Not only does it allow them to be more loving, it encourages them to be so.

In 1969 I was giving a series of lectures in New York City. Every night, taking the bus up Third Avenue, I got the same extraordinary bus driver. Every night it was rush hour in one of the busiest cities in the world, but we had a warm word and a caring presence for each person who got on the bus. He drove us as if he were sculling a boat down a river, flowing through the traffic rather than resisting it. Everyone who got on the bus was less likely to kick the dog that evening or to be otherwise hostile and unloving, because of the loving space that driver had created. Yet all he was doing was driving the bus. He wasn’t a therapist or a great spiritual teacher. He was simply being love.

Remember, we are all affecting the world every moment, whether we mean to or not. Our actions and states of mind matter, because we are so deeply interconnected with one another. Working on our own consciousness is the most important thing that we are doing at any moment, and being love is a supreme creative act.

– Ram Dass

[tina-aumont]

♀️International Women's Day♀️

This site is for...

María Antónia García Martín: Spanish migrant woman who went to Cuba where she met her husband, she settled in Garafia, had six children.

Regla María Teresa Vidal Recio was a Dominican loving mother to her 10 children and she took care of two more children from her husband. She had a very special relationship with her daughter María from whom received always beautiful letters and she read them numerous times until she learned them by heart. Her bond to her daughter was really strong they seemed to comunicate by telepathy.

María África Gracia Vidal was a Dominican actress who found fame and fortune in Hollywood. She came from a rural background, was self-thaught about English language and she knew since she was little, that she was born to triumph. She funded her own fan-club, wrote poems and even a song. She was also very loving and protective to her younger sisters and was a very loving mother.

Adita Gracia Vidal was María's younger sister, little is known about her, maybe the was the most shy of all the Gracia Sisters, but she travelled to Hollywood with them to try an artistic carrer as an actress.

Consuelo Gracia Vidal travelled with her sisters to Hollywood and stayed there under María's wing. She acted in one film "Pirates of Monterey" but found English quite difficult and became model. She was the mother of four.

Luz Gracia Vidal was the sweetest of all the Gracia Sisters and when María was away filming, she always took care of her niece Tina. She was married to Jean Roy and had three kids who lost their father in a killing and she took care of them by herself. She never remarried.

Teresa Gracia Vidal was a successful model in her adoptive country, France, as her sisters, she came from a rural area but had a very successful carrer in a foreign country. She settled there and had a daughter, Raïna Paris. Besides of modelling, Teresita tried to succeed in the cinema industry. Today we know she acted in one film "El Andén", filmed in Spain. She was a divorced mum.

Maria Christina Aumont Gracia was María's daughter, she lost her mother when she was just five years old, but she was loved and being cared with her dad, aunties, uncles, cousins... until she was sent away to a schoolboards, then she married at 17 and had a stillborn babygirl when she was 18. Although her personal life wasn't a fairylate, she managed to find happiness for a time and had a very successful carrer as an actress and also a model in Italy, her adoptive country. In 1969 Tina had to have an abortion in secret as it was illegal in France and in 1971 she signed a manifesto (risking jail) in order to decriminalize the right to abortion which until then was illegal in France.

María Montez Gracia Fiallo is named after her Dominican Auntie, as she was born some weeks after her auntie passed away. Just like her cousin Tina, María II lost her dad when she was five, and in her teens she travelled with her mum to Spain, the country of her ancestors, there she had a very successful carrer as a TV actress and performer first, but then she followed a cinema acting carrer and in the Seventies she went to live in a Comunity first in England and then in France where they had a specific stage methodology. She gave up her acting career to take care of her daughter, who was born with Down's Syndrome.

Maria Isabel Gracia is María's niece, and she worked in Puerto Rico and Chile as a model, actress and even did some work behind the cameras. She has, at least, one daughter.

Raïna Paris Manuel Gracia is Teresita's daughter. She has worked as a TV actress, stage actress, producer, documentaries director... but also she's been studing the spiritual side of the humanity and she's written books, poems and makes some speeches about the subject, she also makes some workshops and tarot readings. Being a single child, sometimes has been difficult for her as all the family burden was on her.

Dominic Fuentes Gracia is Maria Isabel's daughter. Just as her auntie Raïna, Dominic has worked on TV and cinema as an actress, but nowadays makes workshops and speeches about spirituality. She is a divorced mum but has a beautiful relationship with her ex-husband.

♀️💜✊🏽

In this International Women's Day I honour all these strong and brave women who made (and still do) a wonderful family that has spread around the world but has a strong bond.

All these women are different, some were rich, some were poor, some had lots of kids, some had none, some had lovely families, others were just divorced women, but all of them had to fight for their rights, their lives and their truth.

To all of them, the ones who came first and the ones who'll came later, I honour you.

We fight every day ♀️💜✊🏽

Eleni xx