#Eloise can’t change the minds of everyone around her - no one in her family takes her seriously

[junewongapologia]

The fact is tho that no matter how you look at it, no matter how insufferable she is, no matter how Out Of Touch, regardless of whether she’s doing herself no favours: Eloise is right about society and just about everyone else in the show is wrong.

Like, she’s not got the full picture, she’s blinkered and her political philosophy is not very in depth or well thought out. But she’s right, and I think that’s why a lot of people watching really don’t like her because she’s breaking the illusion. All in all, the 1810s were a shit time to be alive for most people, and you can “well actually” it all you like, but the Luddite movement existed for a reason, the Chartists existed for a reason, Porto-feminist writers like Wollstonecraft and de Gouges wrote what they did for a reason.

So when you keep being reminded that it was a terrible social order for women - in a show targeted mainly towards women for escapist purposes then that character is going to come across as irritating, because she’s ruining the immersion.

Really, her attitude isn’t more anachronistic than the dresses, or the hairdos, or the diamond necklaces (men and women had been advocating women’s right to vote since before Eloise was born, lads), but it’s a problem because people are watching the show for the sweeping romances and the general regency vibe, they don’t want to think about how the regency was for most people. Which inevitably leads to some incredible projection, when watchers of a show with the central conceit of only being interested in the love lives of the top one percent of the one percent of the British aristocracy acting as though Eloise is the only privileged person on the show.

And yeah, she is better off than most of the people who exist in all of Regency Britain (though if you were to take the show as read, Britain is made up of about 70% aristocracy, 1% gentry, 5% urban bourgeoisie and 24% urban workers), but she’s the only one whose privilege is harped on out of her whole family and social circle. 99% of the speaking characters in the show come from a posher background than Beau fucking Brummell.

And! Eloise is literally just about the only main character who ever has to question her privilege! And when she is in season 2 she doesn’t throw a shitfit, she’s willing to learn! She goes out of her way to hear perspectives that she wouldn’t have heard in her social circle! But the narrative punishes her for that, and that’s because for all the criticism she gets about needing her privilege checked, they don’t actually want her to learn, they just want her to shut up and enjoy the trappings of regency decadence as much as they do.

Also - I know it’s really fashionable to rag on “pick-mes” and “Not Like Other Girls” - but actually, no, “traditional femininity” has never been socially unacceptable for women the way being GNC is, and it is in fact ruthlessly socially enforced against GNC women, even more so in the 1810s. Eloise is a teenaged girl in a society that stigmatises her for her wish for more legal autonomy, the idea that she’s somehow the villain for not being able to enjoy “feminine” hobbies without seeing them as just another element of the way women’s education is trivialised as ornamental, is farcical. “Sewing is a valuable and useful skill” so is cooking, but there’s a reason my mam, and not my dad, had home economics lessons, and that reason is still misogyny, despite the fact that it set her up better for being able to operate independently as an adult.

Idk I’m just kind of uncomfortable that in a world of rising reactionary political sentiment towards women, and this seemingly increasingly re-normalised view that women need to be wives and homemakers, people feel that the person on the show who needs to do the most introspection regarding their politics is an eighteen-year-old who is vocal about the fact that she has limited legal rights, and not any of the adult men in the show (a lot of whom probably have seats in the Upper House!!!) who never mention politics at all.

And frankly, given the shower who were Having Political Opinions in the long eighteenth century, Eloise’s brand of semi-anachronistic protofeminism is infinitely preferable to Hannah “I refuse to teach the poor how to write in my schools” More, or Edmund “don’t read my big thesis on revolutions too closely it’s definitely not all lies and junk history” Burke, or even a load of prominent members of the Bluestocking Society.

[silverhallow]

Bridgerton Drabble: Princess Diaries AU

Part #2 Broken

“What do you mean you’re still going through with it?” George sighed as he looked at his brother exasperated a couple of hours later.

“Well just that, Sophie assured me it was a one off, that it would never happen again and I believe her.” Phillip argued back.

“George, it is his decision at the end of the day…” Marina said as she walked into the room, Amanda wrapped in a blanket as she went to place her in the cot next to her twin brother.

“It’s a stupid ass decision that is what it is. Come on, the entire country has seen the Bridgerton bloke sniffing around her for the last month, it’s clear to anyone with eyes that whatever that was wasn’t just a one off… and besides you said it yourself, there isn’t a spark there! You see her more as a sister! And I’ve seen you pining after that Bridgerton girl…”

“Eloise and I are just friends…” Phillip said going red and George laughed

“I didn’t say which Bridgerton… but come on, you’re going to be stuck in a loveless marriage and it will eat away at you” George said

“She picked me, we’re doing this. She can’t marry anyone else and if she doesn’t marry by the end of the week then the country goes to the Cavenders” Phillip argued

“And that has nothing to do with you, you can return to England, back to your plants and forget about this entire mess” George said “I am sure you can persuade Eloise to come to Oxford or Cambridge for University since she’s due to start next term” he teased raising his brows suggestively.

Phillip threw a grape at his brother who laughed.

“It’s not that simple. I won’t see this entire country be wrecked by some imbecile because I wasn’t prepared to help where I can. Sophie is the best thing that ever happened to this country, even if she only found out about it a few years ago, she cares so deeply about everyone, she wants to make it a better place, a better country and I can be a part of that, I can help her achieve that and I can do my botany work anywhere. She chose me, we are seeing this through. I do not need any more lectures about it George, I just need you to be supportive please. Like Marina is being”

“Marina is being supportive because she knows she has little choice” Marina laughed “you were supportive of us when we found out about the twins and helped us with the press and your father’s rage”

“Yes, like dad would be happy about you doing this…” George scoffed

“What? The idea of me marrying someone who is going to be Queen of a country. It’d probably be the only thing in my life i’d have done he would have approved of… thinking i could seize control for the family or something… but even if he didn’t approve, it’d have been something i’d have wanted to do even more to get away from him” Phillip said shaking his head.

“Point taken…” George said before looking between his brother and his wife and heaving a deep sigh “fine, I shall continue to be supportive of this stupid endeavour and I shall be the first to either congratulate you on becoming Prince Consort, or to say “I told you so” when it goes tits up” he grinned

Marina swiped at her husband who ducked it and laughed “i promise, i’ll be on my best behaviour, I just want Phil to be happy and if being married to the Queen of Penwood will do that… then I shall be the supportive big brother”

“Thank you, that is all I ask…” Phillip said, walking over to the drinks cabinet to pour himself a drink

“And maybe keep him away from Eloise” Marina whispered into her husband's ear who nodded glumly.

They knew there was no changing Phillip’s mind when he’d set it to something that it would take a lot to change it…

He’d been adamant that when Marina and George found out she was pregnant, that to avoid the scandal of the unplanned pregnancy, the unwanted attention in the press and their father’s fury, he had offered to say he was the father and take the brunt of everything from their father…

But given the news of Marina falling pregnant by one of his son’s out of wedlock, had caused their father to have a heart attack… that lie hadn’t been required but for George, as much as he liked the Queen to be and knew that on paper this was a good match and that his brother and Sophie were friends and very similar in personality, he couldn’t help but feel that this was not the end of the matter and that the saga with the wedding was just starting…

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Over at the houses of parliament, Edmund Bridgerton was pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked over the documents finalising the plans Andrew and Roger had sent over for the new orphanage to be built as per the Princess’ request.

It had been a morning of putting out fires and dealing with the broken heart of his 24 year old son.

Benedict had come back from the palace and his sneaky yet innocent night with the Princess completely broken.

He had never seen him like this before and he had no idea what to do about it. The rules were the rules. They had been set well over 200 years ago by men who didn’t think that a woman should rule period, let alone on her own and therefore they forced through ridiculous rules.

Some of them they’d managed to abolish over the years but the marriage law… that was something that they’d never seen to rectify and he had no idea if it was even possible for the Lords of the country to make such a decision as any decisions around the crown had to be set by the King or Queen.

The marriage law as it stood now had been passed in 1812 when the then King George only had legitimate daughter’s and wanted one of his bastard sons to rule instead and he’d made it as difficult as possible for his eldest daughter Sophia Charlotte, to take her rightful place as Queen once he passed away.

He’d forced through the rule that said in order for her to rule she had to marry and be over the age of 20, before she could assume the throne but also made it clear that whoever they were to marry, would not have any power over the throne, as he was sure it would have made her whole position less fanciful, why marry a Queen if you get no power… which all men married for, power and position and for 100’s of years… that law had been enforced.

Sophia had managed to outwit her father and married a simple Lord and went on to be one of the country's greatest ever rulers.

“It’s a stupid rule” Benedict had wailed so many times into his hands that Edmund was sure it was all he was going to think about when he slept that night. He knew his wife would be the better person to calm their second son down, she always had been but there had been some sort of drama with Eloise so he’d been left to deal with Benedict.

It broke his heart that there was nothing he could do, he personally didn’t have the power to change it, he couldn’t even make the motion to change the rule that could only come from the sovereign or sovereign to be, and then parliament could decide on whether or not to back the motion…

And given half of the men that sat on the benches of parliament, he wouldn’t put it past them to not pass it and being so close to the wedding now…

Edmund hated this. He hated that he hadn’t learned more earlier, when he first got to know their future Queen, he’d assumed that she’d have found a way out of it, or been happy but he’d not anticipated the connection that seemed to form almost instantly between his son and the Princess.

It had been even quicker than that of when he met Violet when he’d known by the end of the dance… he’d seen the Princess run into Benedict and stand on his toe and he’d seen the sparks fly…

And knew that they were in trouble.

“I know she’s the best thing for this country but it’s not fair… it’s not fair” he wept over and over in his hands, his eyes were red and swollen, as was his nose from the hysterics. It didn’t matter that he was a grown ass man of twenty four years old.

Benedict knew he would never find anyone that compared with Sophie and living in this country meant he was going to be forced to see her face every single day, it would be everywhere right down to the money he earned and spent.

Her life would be broadcast, he’d have to see her pregnant with another’s baby, on the arm of another.

Or he will have to leave the country, never to return, never to see his family unless they came to see him…

He wasn’t going to be strong enough to endure seeing the love of his life thriving in that capacity.

It took Edmund several hours to get his son to stop breaking his heart, to stop his son from the weight of he guilt he felt after the rumours had briefly flown that Sophie and Phillip were not to marry and it was being called off after the “incident” but they’d received communication from Anthony and Kate that the wedding was still to go ahead, which of course set off another round of tears in Benedict.

Eventually he managed to persuade his son to go home and not do anything drastic or dramatic. Edmund had an idea on how he could get the information to Sophie about it could be stopped, how it could be changed and challenged but it would be a risk.

If parliament didn’t back her… then everything could be a disaster.

[cheyconicbookreviews]

The Edens (will reblog as the last two (3?) books release)

Devney Perry is a goddess. The ease with which these relationships build and flourish is so natural. As a reader, you don’t even notice a shift or a pivotal moment when they blossom from one phase to the next. These organic relationships are magical. 

Also, with the attention to food and coffee in this series, can I move to Quincy? Is there an opening for a girl and her husband to get in on this family for some free deliciousness?

Devney takes everything about writing, everything you might learn in an AP English class, and applies it so effortlessly you don’t even realize you’re getting played. And then it’s so well done you not only fell into it, but you enjoyed it. Ya sicko. Small Town Romance, Each book follows a sibling, Romantic suspense

Indigo Ridge Griffin and Winslow

Fun fact about me– my comfort show is Criminal Minds. I mean, who can resist? Anyway, I have a really hard time sleeping if the soothing sounds of serial murder are not playing in the background. So when this book started off with a badass female chief of police learning her new town has had 7 gruesome suicides in about 7 years, I knew this was going to be good. Winslow Covington is the new girl in a small town. I mean Andy Griffith, everyone knows everyone small town. Population me and you small town. Winslow is new, a young woman, the Mayor’s grand daughter, and the new chief of police. As you might imagine, people aren’t too keen to welcome her with open arms. Her Pops encouraged her to make friends with the Eden family, as they’re basically royalty. And our darling girl unknowingly has a one-night stand with Griffin, you guessed it, Eden. Meet Griffin Eden, grumpy, rugged ranch man who does not want commitment, or change. He’s a family man, loyal to his siblings and parents, but everyone else can go as far as he’s concerned. When Griffin and Winn agree that neither of them would have engaged in the one-night stand had they known who the other was, they were relatively at peace. That is, until a body of a young woman is found at the base of Indigo Ridge on Griffin’s property. Everyone is ready to call it a suicide, but Winslow Covington isn’t so sure. Ruffling feathers as she investigates, Winn wants to make sure that the case is truly closed. Winslow and Griffin are both very dynamic characters. Their relationship feels natural, both in progression and display. There isn’t any unnecessary drama for the sake of plot development. It’s clean and wonderful. The balance of romance and mystery was perfect, in my opinion. The only thing that even remotely felt rushed, in my opinion, was the epilogue. It was almost like Devney had so much she wanted to tell us about their relationship, and not enough pages. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Juniper Hill Knox and Memphis

Knox, the charming younger brother of our beloved Griffin wants two things in this world– peace and quiet. He is a successful restaurant owner and chef, with a mild reputation as a grump. Enter Memphis Ward– single mom, coming in to live in the loft above his garage so she can work at the Eloise Hotel on Main St. Memphis has one goal in mind– carve a good life for her son. Recently cut off from her access to essentially infinite money, Memphis has taken a job as a housekeeper at the Eden family hotel. Grumpy Knox does *not* like that he said yes to Eloise to allow Memphis to live in his spare loft. Memphis does not like that she feels like she’s intruding. Both of them do not like how attracted they are to each other. After some back and forth, they start to get a rhythm of civilness between them. They dance around this invisible line they’ve set. And my God they’re SO mature about it. Devney has my insta-buy approval. But this daycare? Absolutely malicious. You know that feeling when you’re reading and you just *know* something is a big deal? Yeah.

Then here’s another truth. I’m going to take them. I’m going to take all of your bests. Every damn one until you can’t keep track of the top five anymore because there are so many bests that you’ll need a hundred to capture them all.

Knox and Memphis are so so good for each other. They’re magic and stardust and just perfect. I know I keep talking about how organic these relationships are, but I promise I won’t shut up about them. And the DRAMA the ANGST ugh my heart. Heart meet roof. My apple watch told me regularly that mindful breathing could calm me down. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Garnet Flats Talia and Foster

Talia Eden, the super woman is shocked and appalled to see her ex show up at her work, nearly 7 years after he married her best friend and roommate. The audacity of this man to try to win her back? She wasn’t having it. Foster Madden, World Champion Fighter, boxer extraordinaire makes the big move from Vegas to Quincy to win back his girl. He wanted to apologize to her, to tell her everything, but Talia would have none of it. How could she?

So far, this was the least favorite of the Eden stories for me. I love Talia, but the whole deal with Foster was a little much. By the end I liked them, but it wasn’t until like, 60% through that I was on board with them. And I wish that Vivi wasn’t involved. Like at all. I wish I had more of them relearning each other than Talia being jealous of Vivi.It was still a good read, just not my favorite.  

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Again, full reviews of the next books will be reblogged for consistency :)

[ilalos]

Worth it (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) Part 2/2

Summary: Your arranged marriage to Anthony seems fine, until it doesn’t.

Warnings: marriage, implied sex, angst-ish, fluff, pregnancy, crying, if you notice anything else let me know :)

Word count: 2.5k

The season passed in a blur with countless flowers and conversations that filled you with expectations about your marriage to the Viscount, you truly felt like love was around the corner for both of you and it was a matter of time for that corner to be turned. He was everything you had expected and more, you could tell he was wary about letting you in but didn’t want to push him so you let him open himself to you at his own pace. The had been some stolen looks, kisses on your knuckles that had lasted a little longer than they should and hand a bit lower than what was acceptable when you danced. To say the courting had been successful was the understatement of the season in your opinion, by the time the wedding day came you were counting down the minutes before you finally became Lady (y/n) Bridgeton.

Your wedding ceremony was short and the carriage ride to Anthony’s bachelor townhouse was even shorter. The wedding night had come with a surprisingly low amount of events, your virginity had been taken the sweetest of ways, with many kisses and whispered promises of pleasure that came true. By the end of the day, you were as happy as can be, laying on your husband's chest, feeling his heartbeat slowing down and smelling the sweet vanilla scent of his skin.

When you woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he had already left to work in his study back in the main Bridgerton home. He didn’t return until late in the evening and you were waiting for him so you could have dinner together.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said while taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s nothing, I like that we are finally spending some time together”

Anthony just nodded and continued eating in silence.

“How was your day?” You pushed for conversation, you had been alone all day and could really use some conversation with someone different than your maid, who was terrified of speaking freely.

“It was busy” he answered simply “how was your day?” He asked after seeing the face you made at his short answer.

“It was also very busy, I reorganized the books in the library, had the kitchen staff do an inventory on the pantry, and send the maids to the market to get some flowers for the table tops” you narrated proudly, hoping he might appreciate the way you ran the home.

“Good to see you’re settling in, darling” his small praise made you smile a little.

“You don’t mind that I changed some things?” You asked somewhat concerned by his silence.

“It is your home, you’re free to do whatever you please with it,” he said dismissively.

“It’s our home, Anthony, I want to make it perfect for you too”

After dinner, he walked you to the bedroom and after a couple of heated kisses you fell in his arms once again, the pleasure he gave you was addictive. Despite his cold attitude towards you in other aspects of your life, it was in the bedroom where you felt hopeful for a future where you both might learn to truly love each other, and then he would sneak out every morning making you feel like a worthless whore.

And so your days continued like this, every night was filled with passion and every day was lonely. You couldn’t even go to the Bridgerton home, you had been taught that a married lady was not to go out without her husband, so your heart slowly filled with sadness as you spent day after day alone in the townhouse. Anthony was none the wiser because he simply thought you enjoyed being by yourself, so it never occurred to him to invite you to his family’s home or anywhere else.

A month into your marriage you found out you were with child. You were extremely happy and Anthony had shown himself to be happy as well, but then that night he didn’t come home for dinner and didn’t make an appearance in your bedroom. He was more and more distant until four months had passed and he disappeared for two full weeks before you saw him again.

It was on the day of your birthday, and he had only gone to your room because the butler told him you had been very sick that day. When he entered the room he found you seating on the bed hugging your knees close to your chest, your eyes puffy from crying and silent tears still streaming down your face. You weren’t upset he had forgotten your birthday, you had never celebrated it so it didn’t matter he didn’t remember it.

“What happened? Is everything well? Is the baby-“

“Your child is quite well, Lord Bridgerton” you interrupted in the coldest tone he had ever heard from you “to what do I owe this joyous visit?”

“I apologize for my absence, I have been very busy” he answered measly.

“I figured out that much, husband” the word was said with venom.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked offended, you had never treated him so coldly.

“I am upset with myself” you started with a pained chuckle “I don’t need you to try and comfort me because you did nothing wrong, that is the reason for my anger” a small sob escaped your lips “I was taught to be a good wife, that my only job was to give my husband heirs and to keep the house running and I understood that and I didn’t fight it because at least I would have children to fill my life with love and a husband who at the very least would acknowledge me and my efforts”

“I-“

“I don’t want you to feel like you should change or apologize, this is not your fault, I feel miserable because I filled my heart with hopes and dreams of love but that’s just not how life is, at least not mine” you harshly wiped your eyes before finishing “I understand my place now, I’m nothing but a child-bearer for you and that’s fine because you didn’t even pick me in the first place” you got up from bed and opened the door for him “please leave me alone, I will be fine”

“I can’t just leave you here alone, have you even eaten today? In your condition-“

“Your child is perfectly well, my lord” your tone had turned icy once again “please go, I am tired and want to rest”

Unable to do anything else, Anthony left the room and went back to his family’s home. His mother had insisted for him to take you there that night, but seeing your state he didn’t even bother asking if you wanted to go. When he got there he was surprised to see the dining room fully decorated, his whole family dressed in their best clothes, even Daphne and Simon had paid a visit.

“Where is (y/n)?” Asked Violet.

“She’s not feeling very well” answered Anthony looking at the table that was filled with all his wife’s favorite food “What is happening? Why are you all here dressed as if you are attending a ball?”

“Anthony, please for the love of God almighty, tell me you didn’t forget your wife’s birthday!” Violet couldn’t keep his composure, how could Anthony be so clueless.

“I-I’ve been so busy lately supervising the building of the new house, it didn’t even occur to me that it was her birthday” Anthony felt terrible, as he should.

“It’s bad enough she doesn’t like us, son” Violet sighed, seating on the table “And now she thinks we don’t care for her birthday”

“Where did you get that idea, mother?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask “When she writes to us she says wonderful things about our family”

“Then why hasn’t she visited since the wedding?” This time it was Colin asking “Mother sent a tea invitation shortly after they got married and she never showed up, sent a poor letter apologizing but did not explain why she didn’t show”

“I might have an explanation for that” Simon spoke up “My aunt was a terribly strict mother, taught her that a wife was nothing more than a child-bearer and had no liberties like men do, for example: going out unaccompanied”

“Has she been out of the house since you married, brother?” asked Eloise, turning to face Anthony who was still frozen at the doorstep.

“I don’t believe so” he entered the room and sat defeated “I just thought she enjoyed being at home by herself, god!” he rubbed his hands down his face.

“I can’t believe it, the poor thing” lamented Violet.

“She hasn’t left the house in almost half a year” concluded Benedict.

“And here we were, refusing to visit thinking she had rejected mother,” said Colin.

“I would like to clarify, I never agreed with losing contact with her over one missed invitation” added Eloise, gaining the glares of everyone present.

“It matters not what we thought nor does it matter what has happened in the past” began Violet “right now I want you to go pick her up and bring her here, she deserves to be celebrated, especially after everything we put her through,” she told her eldest child, pushing him to stand and go to the door.

Anthony mounted the carriage and urged the coachman to hurry home and as soon as he got there he ran up the stairs to your room and burst through the door, jolting you awake.

“I am so sorry, love,” ha said kneeling on your bedside “I never knew you didn’t leave the house because you thought you couldn’t, you are free to do as you please, darling” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped in your own home, and I am sorry if you felt like I abandoned you” he caressed your face and wiped some tears that had fallen without your notice.

“You did abandon us,” you said, trying to pull your hand from his grasp with your other hand protecting your belly.

“I was merely supervising the building of our new home, I was hoping I could surprise you before the baby arrived” he explained, now seating by your side “I can’t possibly ask my family to leave their home but I know how much you love that house, and so I chose to build a similar one not too far from here”

“You are building me a house?” You asked incredulously, hardly anything could justify his absence but this was in fact a reasonable explanation.

“Yes, love” he once again caressed your face “A home for our family” at that your eyes filled with tears, this time from happiness.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and shushing you softly to calm down your cries. You spent a while holding each other until he suddenly broke you two apart, remembering his family that was still waiting for you both to show up.

“My beautiful wife, I must take you out of the comforts of your bed” he began, apologetic “My family is expecting you in their home to celebrate your birthday with a lavish dinner”

“Heavens! You should’ve started with that” you ran to your door and called out for your maid “I don’t think I have a dress for such occasion, non that would fit me now, that’s certain”

You opened your trunk and began taking out your chemise and all other items you had to wear under your dress in such cold weather. You took off your nightgown not caring Anthony was there, he had seen it all before, after you had put on your chemise your maid ran in and help you put on the rest of your garments and helped you squeeze your small baby bump in the dress you had worn for one of the first balls you attended when Anthony was courting you. She put your hair in a quick updo and even managed to coerce Anthony into putting on your stockings and your shoes while she did your hair. With all that rush and hard work, you managed to be ready in under an hour and still made it to the dinner at a reasonable hour (half past 9 is reasonable, right?).

At the Bridgerton home, you were welcomed with warm embraces and merry wishes on your special day. You all sat around the table and ate the feast that had sadly grown cold. Colin didn’t seem to mind as he devoured everything in sight, prompting Violet to chastise him softly. You, however, ate small bites because the pregnancy had caused your stomach to be upset easily and you didn’t wish to offend anyone by running out of the room to empty your stomach. Anthony watched you eat and held your hand atop the table, smiling as he watched you laugh and converse with his family.

“Is the food not good enough?” Asked Violet seeing your plate almost full.

“It is just perfect, my stomach has just been iffy since the start of the pregnancy” you answered smiling apologetically, Anthony choked on his wine because he realized at that very moment that he had forgotten to tell his family about your condition.

“You’re with child? Those are wonderful news!” Exclaimed Violet with a large smile “When did you found out?”

“Four months ago” you turned to glare at Anthony “I assumed your son had told you”

“How could you conceal such joyous information from your mother?” Violet then noticed her eldest daughter had become quiet, as well as her husband “Did you know, Daphne?”

“I was aware of it, yes” Daphne admitted ashamed “I too assumed Anthony had told you”

“You assumed my eldest son had told me about his wife’s pregnancy and I had decided not to mention any of it in our letters?”

“I-I’m, yes?” Benedict and Colin snorted with laughter hearing their sister’s answer.

Violet only shook her head with a small smile, her children were truly a wonder. Anthony was nervous that you’d get mad at him for not telling them, but one look at your laughing face told him he didn’t need to worry.

Later that evening you both laid in bed after yet another passion-filled encounter, your breathing slow and even making Anthony think you were asleep. He was caressing your naked back with feather-like touches, kissing your sweaty forehead every few minutes.

“I love you” you sighed, kissing his chest “You need not feel the same, I just want you to know how I feel”

He took a shaky breath before answering.

“I also am in love with you, darling” he placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head so you’d look at him “sometimes I’m scared of just how much I love you” he kissed you slow and deep, pouring all his love into the action.

The kiss was unlike any other you had shared before, this one was full of promise and hope. It filled you with love and certainty, you were now sure that no matter how difficult the road to Anthony’s heart had been, even if you didn’t want it at first, it had all been worth it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you like it let me know.

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[iliveiloveiwrite]

A Truth Universally Acknowledged // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Hi angel! I love all of your stories, especially your Bridgerton and work! Is there any way you could write something soft and fluffy for Anthony and a female reader! PLEASE AND THANK YOU - Anon.

A/N: I haven’t written for Anthony in what seems like forever! As much as I love Benedict, I do love writing Anthony fics. This isn't overly long, I just wanted to write something soft and fluffy that’s entirely domestic as well. I hope you all like! Title is a quote from the first line of Pride and Prejudice (further quotes from the book are in italics).

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: none - fluff, books, marriage, happy relationships, cute.

Word Count: 1.6k

The house is silent as Anthony strides through the waiting, open door. He nods his greeting to the Butler, Wilkins, before letting the weariness that had haunted him all day settle over his bones.

“Wilkins?” Anthony asks; no need to voice the question. Wilkins knows.

“Lady Bridgerton is in the Green-and-Gold, sir.”

Anthony smiles at the Butler. “You really do know everything.”

Wilkins smiles; nods his head. “It is my job, sir. Lady Bridgerton has already told me that you will take your final meal of the day in there, too.”

Anthony takes the stairs two at a time; refusing to accept his laboured breathing by the time he reaches the top. He was not an old man yet; he was still a very active man.

Turning left, he wanders blindly to the Green-and-Gold room named for the colour scheme of the walls and the furniture. His late grandmother had decorated the room; so fondly remembered by her ancestors that each refused to change a thing in the room save for any upholstering that needed to be done occasionally.

He finds you sitting on the left hand side of the room; the comfier side as argued by everyone who visits the room. Your legs are curled underneath you as your eyes pour over the page of an open book in your lap. From here, Anthony cannot possibly hazard a guess as to what you might be reading, but he feels a twinge of jealousy at the attention being paid to the book and not to him.

Well, love makes fools of us all, Anthony thinks to himself. “Darling,” Anthony greets in one single breath, as if the sight of you makes it all the easier for him to breathe.

“Darling,” You smile, standing from your seat, coming to greet the man you love with every fibre of your being. “How was your day?”

Anthony groans as he removes his jacket before tugging at the knot of his cravat. “Long,” He complains, struggling with the neckpiece. You smile at your husband, batting his hands away from his neck so you can take over. You feel the heat of his gaze as your hands work to do undo the knot he had tightened with a single tug; as the fabric unravels under your nimble fingers your husband reaches out to squeeze your waist.

“Thank you,” He whispers, voice full with an emotion you can’t quite decipher. Love? Weariness? A combination of both? Anthony looked ragged as you run your eyes over his face.

“I’m sorry that your day has been taxing, my love.”

“It’s all the better now that I’m here with you.”

“Flatterer,” You tease with no real heat behind your words. Anthony beams at you; eyes crinkling in the corners from the force of it as his hands tighten on your waist and his head dips to capture your lips in the kiss he has been thinking about for the better part of his day.

Breaking away, Anthony plants one, two, three kisses to your lips in quick, chaste succession leaving you breathless and highly amused. “How was your day?” He asks, curious as ever to find out what his wife does when he isn’t at home to distract you.

“Dull,” You answer plainly, enjoying the feel of Anthony’s strong arms around you.

“Dull?”

You purse your lips, thinking over your plans for the day so far. “I suppose dull doesn’t work. It hasn’t been dull at all.”

“Oh?”

“I’m only saying it because I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” He murmurs, kissing you once more. “What are you reading?” Anthony asks when he pulls away, spying the book laid delicately on the couch.

“Eloise let me borrow it. She gave me it when I called to see her this morning,” You answer, leaving the comfort of Anthony’s arms to take your seat on the couch.

“Darling, you know we have an entire library full of books, don’t you?”

Fixing him with an unimpressed look, you counter, “Your sister read this and thought of me. The least I could do is read it.”

“Alright,” Anthony sighs, knowing a losing battle when he sees one. “Budge up.”

“Pardon?”

Anthony gestures to the couch. “Make some room for me.”

A puzzled look settles across your face, but you follow the request, nonetheless, shifting on the couch so Anthony has room to sit down.

Anthony settles with his head on your lap; offering you a self-satisfied smile when you raise an eyebrow at him. “Comfy?” You ask, voice laced with humour.

“Very,” He responds. “Will you start from the beginning? I don’t want to miss anything.”

Chuntering about high maintenance husbands, you mark the page you got to before returning to the beginning. “Anything else before I begin?”

“Nothing… Oh, one thing.”

“That is?”

“I love you.”

Any previous ire you felt towards your husband disappears at those three magical words. The frustrated slant to your brow evens out as you reach out to stroke a hand through his hair and down the side of his face.

“I love you too,” You answer earnestly, feeling the power of the emotion running through you.

A peaceful look crosses Anthony’s face as your words sink into his skin like a balm on an open wound. He had felt neglectful lately; not spending as much time at home as he would have liked. He felt bad for leaving you so alone. Without children, you were your own companion throughout the day, and whilst you had both discussed having children, Anthony was to be left mildly vexed at the thought of you spending your days alone until a child was born.

The opening of parliament combined with Anthony’s seat in the House meant that he was spending more and more time in Westminster and less time with you.

A ratio Anthony was not fond of.

“I’m ready when you are,” He whispers; eyes focused on your face so he can watch every reaction and see every syllable leave your mouth.

Flashing an annoyed look at your husband, you take a deep breath and begin:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

“What?” Anthony asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hush,” You admonish half-heartedly before continuing.

“However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.”

“This author is a genius,” Anthony exclaims, his voice awed as he tries to catch a glimpse of the cover to see the author’s name. “Who wrote this?”

“Are you going to comment the whole way through? I’ve barely read two paragraphs.”

“Sorry, darling, but I have to know. Who wrote this?”

“Her name is Jane Austen.”

“Well Jane Austen is a genius. In two paragraphs she’s captured what it is like to be a single man with a fortune in and amongst the sharks with unattached daughters.”

“Sharks?” You ask, highly amused at your husband’s words.

“Mothers,” Anthony shudders, remembering what it was like to go through so many seasons still unmarried. A Viscount with two seats of power combined with a hefty ancestral fortune – many mothers didn’t care whether Anthony would love their daughters; they simply wanted a fortuitus marriage that would leave them set for life.

Anthony thanks any and all gods and deities out there that he found his love match in you. You had taken him by surprise; Anthony had already resigned himself to a season with countless mothers forcing their daughters onto his arm. Until one evening early into the season, he had been listening to Gregory whine about the workload at Eton when his eyes met yours from across the room. In a total state of cliché, Anthony met your gaze, and he knew. He knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life loving you, worshipping you. He knew that whatever his future held, you would be right there weathering it alongside him. In a single glance from across the room, he knew.

You were married before the season finished; a special licence dispensed after a favour from the Archbishop called in. Anthony couldn’t wait; didn’t want to wait – he wanted to start the rest of his life with you as soon as possible.

Your light laughter breaks Anthony out of his reverie. “They aren’t all that bad,” You argue. “I suspect you’ll be worse than me when it comes to our children.”

Anthony snorts; doubting your words but loving the way you speak so openly about your hopeful future family. Clearing your throat, you continue to read on.

Anthony settles further into your lap; letting the calmness of your voice wash over him. After a moment of watching the concentration on your face, Anthony lets his eyes slip closed. He has no intention of falling asleep; he simply wants to enjoy this moment to its fullest.

“Mr Bingley was good looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features…”

A snore interrupts your rendition of Pride and Prejudice. Pausing mid-sentence, you look down to your lap where Anthony has fallen asleep so peacefully. Smiling softly at the man, you close the book, placing it to one side before running a hand through Anthony’s ever-unruly hair. He hums contentedly, pushing his head further into your hand as you begin to scratch at his scalp.

As you watch Anthony doze dreamily, you feel your eyes lose the fight against the growing tiredness. Your hand stills in Anthony’s hair as you fall asleep alongside your husband, utterly content at the path your life has taken considering it led you to him.

*****

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @janelongxox​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​ @magicalxdaydream​ @darkestbeforethedawn16​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @spideysz​

[gryffindors-weasley]

To Love Someone

Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Summary: Love doesn’t always work out how you’d like it to, and sometimes it does.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: angst, jealousy, heartache, fluff, kissing, requited love

Shock. That was the very first thing you felt upon hearing what was supposed to be delightful news. What was supposed to be a celebration of the next chapter of someone’s life. But that feeling quickly subsided, for you hadn’t expected your very best friend to hold the same feelings for you as he did him. You never did, though a small part of you had hoped this was some fabricated nightmare that you would eventually wake up from. But much to your dismay, it was not.

Now, you were in attendance of yet another dinner at the Bridgerton home. There had been an extravagant event held in celebration of the engagement one week prior of course, but everything after that, even just a simple dinner seemed to be just as celebratory all the same.

Benedict and Eloise, as a matter of fact even Anthony, knew of your long-standing feelings for their brother. Feelings that now seemed absolutely ridiculous as you sat before the happy couple, feelings that made your heart crack pitifully within your chest. They knew, and they were rather surprised to hear the announcement as well because they were sure you were the perfect match. They were certain with the way they always caught him staring when you weren’t looking.

“This cake is rather delightful, is it not, Y/n/n?” Eloise murmurs to you once she catches your painfully longing gaze lingering on her brother.

You break away from him with furrowed brows after she kicks you under the table, clearing your throat in a poor attempt to suppress the lump forming within it. You look at her for a moment, scrambling to remember the words you only half-heard her say. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

You pick at said cake with your fancy fork clutched in your shaky hand, hearing her soft sigh in defeat beside you. She knew her attempts at distraction were futile, valiant yes, but futile. It was hard to watch you sit there and sulk; she did not quite know what it felt like to be heartbroken, but she couldn’t imagine it to be easy. So, she knew she must at least try and call in reinforcements, her brother.

“Y/n,” Benedict starts on your other side, nudging you with his elbow to further gain your attention. “The garden seems to be in full bloom, you don’t suppose you’d like to go for a walk with Eloise and I after dinner, would you?”

You laugh softly at their more than obvious efforts, but you nod in agreement nonetheless. “Yes, Benedict, that would be lovely.”

When things moved from the dining room to the drawing room, Violet Bridgerton had talked the three of you into staying in their company for just a bit more before you could run off. Maybe not talked into, more like told the three of you in a hushed matronly scolding. You had no choice but to oblige to her wishes.

You sat between the two on the couch, breathing out a sigh as you wring your hands in a half hearted attempt to do something. Not even talk of Lady Whistledown could capture your attention for more than a mere moment or two. Not even Benedict’s teasing jokes to draw a portrait of you and the frown seemingly permanently on your face could get you to smile for more than just a few seconds at a time. For just about everyone seemed to be enamored with Miss Andrews.

It wasn’t hard to be you will admit, she was beautiful with many talents; she has even traveled quite a bit with her family. You knew that was of interest to him. You couldn’t blame her for being so captivating, but you couldn’t bear it either. Not with the way she linked her arm around Colin’s, or the way her parents spoke so highly of her that it made your head spin.

It was when you found yourself looking at Colin that it became far too much. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away just yet, no matter how much you wanted to, no matter how much you needed to. It was when he looked at you that had done it. The conversation and laughter seemed to fade in swirls of commotion around you, the shared gaze fleeting and agonizingly slowed all the same. For it was the first time all night that he had directly looked at you and you couldn’t take it. You could not stay.

Politely, you excused yourself, making your way to the door in a rush that left Benedict and Eloise to frown at each other. The room felt all too crowded no matter the fact that it wasn’t, the uninterrupted chatter and music still continuing in your absence.

The tears became harder to ignore with your newfound time to yourself, your chest heaving in your overwhelmed state. You had made it nearly to the end of the lavish hall before you were stopped.

“Y/n?”

You take a deep breath as you closed your eyes briefly, willing the tears to dissipate before turning around with a soft smile, your best friend closer than you had thought. “Yes?”

“Are you alright? I know Hyacinth is still rather new to the piano, but it can’t be that bad, can it?” He jests, laughing softly.

You bring yourself to laugh quietly despite your pressing desire to be anything but jovial in that moment. “I am quite alright, Colin.”

His brows furrow at your obvious distress, he could tell from the very moment you arrived at his family home in the early half of the evening. He was far too oblivious to see the cause of your behavior, but not so much to not notice you’d been acting differently. He knew you were lying to him.

“What is the matter, Y/n?” He asks again as he sees you rapidly begin to grow more upset, and he reaches out for your hand.

You pull away from his grasp, averting your teary gaze elsewhere. Anywhere but him would be perfectly suitable. “Nothing is the matter, Colin.”

You were certain your words couldn’t possibly be believable, not with the way your chest had begun to rise and fall at a much more noticeable pace, and not with the way your cheeks had flushed and obvious crimson. One must be a fool to not see the clear turmoil and upset painted all over you, weaving around your every word. Each passing second had only worsened such a feeling, and the more you allowed yourself to look at him, the more trouble you had found yourself falling into. You simply could not bear it anymore.

The crease between his brows only deepens upon your dismissive behavior, his hand falling back to his side as he takes a deep breath. “Well it would appear that something is bothering you. I know you far better than to believe that, Y/n.”

You laugh humorlessly, looking down at your feet as you all but crumble in front of him. Your chest tightened and your heart felt as though it could burst. He knew it may not have been appropriate of him to do so, but he reached out to grab your hands once more and you did not fight it, for this would likely be the last time. The look on his face was a silent plea for you to tell him of your troubles, ones he hadn’t known were caused by himself. His grip was gentle and warm as he waited for you, and the feeling fluttering in your stomach was unable to be ignored.

“I know it is not proper of me to say this,” You start, and his brows remain knit together. No matter how heavily your heart had been pounding, your words spilled out before you could stop them. “But I love you. I am in love with you, and you are in love with someone else. You are to marry. That, Colin Bridgerton, is what is the matter.”

He swallows thickly, his gaze on you far too intense to hold as you clear your throat and bring yourself to pull from his grasp, fervently willing the lump within it to disappear. His mouth opens, then closes almost immediately as he tries desperately to figure out his wording though his attempts prove to be futile.

“I—I do not know what to say.”

The hurt had crashed down on you in waves, immense and unrelenting as you stood before him. The tears pressing just behind your eyes rapidly became too hard to ignore. Yet despite the anguish pulling harshly at your heart, you take a deep breath and compose yourself once more.

“There is no need to say anything at all. I just—I am sorry. I needed to tell you,” you state, straightening your posture as you lift your eyes to meet his once more. Your lip began to quiver the more you held his gaze, and with a soft and faltering smile, you offered a simple nod. “I should be leaving now.”

You turn on your heel and walk away from him, desperate for a change of scenery and desperate for a breath of fresh air. Though impossible, it felt like the lavishly decorated walls were closing in on you in that very moment.

“Y/n, wait!”

It had crossed your mind that maybe you should stop, maybe you should turn around and listen. Maybe he’d have something to say that could be just what you are hoping to hear. But you couldn’t find it in you to look at him for another moment, so you part from him and continue down the nearly vacant corridor. It was only when he was distant enough that you let your tears fall, quickly wiped away by the satin glove on your hand.

—

Dealing with the aftermath of your lovestruck confession was not an easy feat, in fact, you felt as though you never wanted to show your face to the ton again. You were perfectly content staying in the confines of your bedroom for the rest of your life. Fortunately for you, your blunder hadn’t made it into Lady Whistledown’s story of the day, but what had been the talk of the ton was the ever spectacular planning of the wedding of Mr. Colin Bridgerton and Miss Hazel Andrews. There had been an excerpt on the very event every day for an entire week, possibly more but eventually you’d stopped looking to save yourself the heartache already striking down on you.

You had stopped visiting the Bridgerton family home because you had known you would run into him, and the very thought had made your stomach churn and twist in knots as you remember that very night but a handful of weeks ago. You feel as though you might never forget that, much to your dismay. For heartbreak does not leave someone completely, there will always be fragments of its torment left behind in everything you choose to do.

Eloise has come to see you frequently, always with a box of the very sweets she insists she does not share with anyone. She always has a message to pass on from her siblings, even Colin, especially Colin, but she always finds herself feeling unsure of if she should bring him up. So instead, she tells you her latest findings on the unmasking of Lady Whistledown; she could never run out of things to tell you of that. She tells you of how Benedict might just drive her crazy if he asks about you but one more time. She tells you of the ball you are invited to.

In the current moment, you had been seated at your vanity, sifting through all the letters Colin had written to you over the last three weeks. They had since tapered down when he hadn’t been getting responses in return, and you had been too afraid to read any more than just a few. Too afraid to see in writing that your love is unrequited, too afraid to read the possibility that he hadn’t wanted to see you anymore. You were perfectly content with the undesirable hurt you had now, you did not want to add to it.

A knock on your door had startled you from your thoughts.

“Mr. Bridgerton is here to see you,” your mother announces, a soft smile on her lips as you look at her reflection in your mirror.

Your heart nearly flipped in your chest as you sat there, turning to face her directly. Your mind had been racing with a flurry of thoughts; you missed him, but insecurity wore away at you and told you his visit would not be of anything good. Could not be. He had visited several times and the outcome was always the same, so surely he does not believe your excuses, surely he is fed up. “Tell him I am not here, mother.”

She nods at the expected answer, closing the door behind her quietly and leaving you be as you rushed to your window. In a matter of a few moments you saw him, and it felt as though your heart had stilled. You watched as he drug his hand down his face, watched as he turned to look up at your family home and you took a step back from your window, even though he would not be able to see you. You watched as he turned away, got in his carriage, and disappeared down the street.

You turn on your heel and release a shaky breath, your gaze falling to the gown dangling neatly from its hanger.

—

You fought to conceal your frown and your obvious discontent to be at such an event. However, your mother had made you attend and Eloise just might go crazy if you leave her to fend for herself one for one more ball. And as if on cue, her arm links with yours after you’ve taken all but three steps into the boisterous ballroom.

“Hello stranger, how nice of you to join me on this wonderfully dreadful evening,” she greets in faux annoyance, and you playfully roll your eyes at her.

“Hello, Eloise,” you sigh, leaning your head against hers for just a moment. “It is rather dreadful, isn’t it? I’m certain I’d much rather—”

“Stay in your room?”

You raise your brow at her and she does the same, a knowing smirk gracing her lips and you shake your head with a soft smile. “As a matter of fact, yes. If you keep it up Eloise, I just might leave.”

“That is absolutely not happening.”

“I have to concur!” Benedict chimes in, appearing at your other side with a smile on his lips. You huff out another sigh as you look up at him, something akin to annoyance in your gaze.

“I do not believe there is anything you have to do.”

He pretends to ponder your words for a brief moment before offering you his arm much to his sister’s dismay. “I believe I have to offer you this dance.”

You squint up at him skeptically, your lips pursed as he returned your stare with a grin, head tilted as his arm remains offered to you. You bite the inside of your cheek and huff out a sigh through your nose, a groan sounding from dear Eloise as you reluctantly allow yourself to be escorted to the dancefloor.

“I am not thrilled about this, I hope you know that,” you state, falling into rhythm with the cheerful music regardless.

“I very well do. Much like I am not thrilled that this is the first time I am in your presence in nearly a month,” he jests, and you frown at him and his counter.

It hadn’t taken you long to realize just what kind of dance you had been talked into, and the laughter coming from the one to blame was more that indication that he was very much aware of that fact from the start.

“Benedict, don’t you dare spin me off to your brother,” you warn firmly, looking up at him with a threatening glare.

“Do you really think so little of me, Y/n/n?” He asks in a scoff, feigning hurt as he nearly pouts at you and your very logical assumptions.

“Sometimes you make me wonder,” you say, softening your stare as you exhale a sigh.

“I will not do such a thing, but I cannot guarantee he would be as gracious as I am,” he says with a grin, passing you off to the arms of the eldest Bridgerton brother before you could get another word in edgewise.

You breathe out an exasperated huff as you fall into your rhythm, pursing your lips.

“Please, do not act too excited to see me, Miss Y/l/n,” Anthony jests, offering you a lopsided smirk to counter your lingering frown. “What ever is the matter, my dear friend?”

You roll your eyes at the playful insincerity held in his words, for he knew exactly what was the matter long before you had even confessed your feelings for his brother. In fact, he may have been the first to realize them.

“Do not call me that, Anthony. You know perfectly well what is the matter.” Despite the bite in your tone, you couldn’t suppress the smile that had tugged at the very corner of your mouth as you stepped around the dancefloor.

“You do know that my brother is not engaged, do you not?” He asks, raising his brow at you curiously. You furrow your own, eyes narrowing up at him in disbelief.

“Anthony, now is not the time for your humor,” you scold, looking away from him. As much as you would like his words to be true, you cannot imagine that they would be.

“It is nothing of the sort,” he defends, “You don’t believe me? Perhaps you should ask him yourself.”

You found yourself tightening your hold on his hand in a pitiful attempt to stay put, but before you can get another word in you are passed into the very arms you had been trying so desperately to avoid, his hand slipping in yours in a fit too perfect to ignore. Your breath caught in your throat upon looking in his eyes, upon being so close and you quickly found yourself averting your gaze. You were quite sure your cheeks were a deep scarlet with the way they’d burned. This had reminded you of the exact reason you hadn’t wanted to attend this very ball in the first place, it was a nightmare and you were now living it.

“How lovely it is to see you,” Colin greets and you’re unsure of his sincerity with the edge behind his words, falling into the pace of the jovial dance with a practiced ease. “I was beginning to think you just might go the entire evening without speaking to me.”

“It is merely a coincidence, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“You do not have to be so formal, Y/n,” he sighs, and you continue to move about the dance floor as you keep quiet. “And am I to assume that it is also merely a coincidence that you are not home each time I have paid you a visit?”

“Do you not have a fiancée to dance with? She is rather popular in Lady Whistledown’s stories, as are you,” you inquire, desperate to take the focus off of you and his question.

You try to keep your racing heart steady, and you hope your shaky hands aren’t too terribly noticeable. Your attempt to keep him from asking any further questions about the matter seemed to have worked in your favorite just this once.

“Then you should have seen that Miss Andrews and I are no longer to be wed.”

It feels as though your heart stills in your chest as you swallow thickly, meeting his gaze once more. A crimson blush stains your cheeks as you look at him, not a trace of a lie expressed on his features. Your heart had beat impossibly faster, and the realization of just how close you had been became increasingly apparent. Not to mention, it felt as though the very walls of the ballroom just might collapse on you if you spend a moment longer in there.

Anthony had not been lying to you, that much was obvious. The thoughts began to swim in your head in a whirlpool now. What the reasons could have been for his numerous visits to your home. What the words written in each of those unopened letters could have said. It engulfed you and rushed over you all at once.

You clear your throat, releasing his hand from your grip and stepping away from him. “I shall need a moment.”

You left him to stand there as you weave your way through the jovial crowd, your obvious distress drawing more than a few stares as you lift the skirt of your dress to keep yourself from tripping as you rush out of the room. 

It was a rather chilly evening to be wandering about the gardens by yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about such trivial things. It was much preferred to the stuffy ballroom that was not nearly big enough to house you and the Bridgerton boy you had fought so hard to avoid. The commotion of the jovial event was rapidly fading the farther you immersed yourself amongst the finely manicured shrubbery and blossoming trees. Though it’s outstanding beauty could not fully be appreciated with such a sour mood, it would have to wait for another time.

Your chest heaved and your eyes watered, the sight of him after having kept your distance for weeks on end proving to affect you just as greatly as it always had and always will be. How ever were you to move on and find another suitor when you were still hung up on him?

You suppose you should be happy at the news, but right now that was not the case.

Perhaps you would simply never marry, it seemed like a viable option in this point in time. To put your heart out on the line for another just did not seem of interest to you nor will it ever. To love someone hadn’t felt as rewarding as Mrs. Bridgerton had once told you and Daphne, it felt as though it had been just the opposite.

A breeze swept over you, promptly causing you to wrap your arms around yourself as you paced about the lush grass in hopes to ease your mind a bit. As refreshing as the night air had initially been, you were beginning to feel no better than you had when you were confined within that room.

Any and all attempts to ease your mind became futile when a voice had cut you short.

“Y/n?”

You startled at his presence, refusing to turn around if only for a moment more as you let your eyes fall closed with a sigh. “I believe I asked for a moment alone.”

It’s quiet briefly before he speaks up once more. “It is not safe for a lady to be out at this hour by herself. I don’t think my mother would be very happy with me should something happen to you on my account.”

“I am perfectly fine on my own,” you state, walking farther from him into the heart of the large garden.

“That may be true, but I am not leaving.”

You exhale a frustrated sigh, spinning on your heel to face him with a narrowed gaze. “Just why have you followed me out here? I do not wish for your pity, Colin.”

His brows furrowed as he takes a step closer, looking down at you with a look you cannot place. “My actions are not out of pity, Y/n,” he starts, his tongue swiping over his lips as he thinks over his next words. 

The tears pressing behind your eyes threaten to spill as you stand there before him. 

“Then what are they of?” You ask, lowering your voice before you draw any attention to yourselves should anyone be wandering. “What are they of?”

He inhales a deep breath at your upset tone before huffing it out through his nose, looking away only briefly before his gaze returns to you. His mouth opens and closes once, and again as the words nearly remain caught in his throat. For feeling so strongly, it was difficult to voice them. “I came out here because I miss you.”

You open your mouth to speak but he silences you with a gesture of his hand.

“You have hidden yourself from me for the last three weeks. I have written you letters, I have come to see you, and I have been unsuccessful with every attempt I have made. I believe it is fair to say that I do.”

You stand there, frustrated and overwhelmed with his words.

“It is not easy being in the presence of someone who both makes your heart flutter and ache all the same,” you state defensively, a tear spilling over your flushed cheek. “I sincerely apologize for not returning your letters and distancing myself from you, but I believe it was in my best interest.”

“I believe it was not.”

You frown as your brows furrow, frustration building within your chest as it heaved under your distress. “Why is that?”

He stares at you, tears lining his eyes as the crease between his brows deepens. “You are my best friend, you are—”

“Why have you called off your engagement, Colin?” You ask, your heart pounding in your chest.

He looked down at you, a myriad of emotions flickering over his face as he fought to find the words to say under your expectant stare. Words that played so easily in his mind yet so painfully difficult to speak.

“I realized I did not love her.”

You scoff, willing the bout of hope in your chest to go away.

“That cannot be so. I’ve seen the way you look at her, I’ve heard the way you talk about her. I simply—”

“I didn’t marry her because it is you that I love,” he declares, standing a bit straighter. He finds himself speechless for a moment now that your full attention is on him, now that the quiet of the night is obvious. But as he looks at you, he knows. “I am in love with you, with all that I am. I’m afraid it took your absence for me to realize it, but it has. It was always you, it will always be you.”

You stand there, seemingly frozen in your spot as you look at him in disbelief. “But I—you love me? You…”

Before you could find the words you hadn’t even been sure of yet, his lips had pressed to yours in a soft kiss. One of hesitancy to solidify his words, yet feather-light in fear of ruining the remains of your friendship. One that only intensified once you had gotten over the utter shock you’d been hit with, your hand reaching up to settle on his cheek. His arms envelope you in an embrace, so tight it had only proved his earlier words of missing you. Even in your absence you had entranced him all the same.

In that very moment, it felt as though sparks had danced across every inch of your skin, a feeling you had only ever thought of but never imagined to be true, to be quite so blissful. But what did remain to be true was the very fact that you had been kissing the love of your life in the secret confines of a garden.

Your fingers had begun to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck briefly, smoothing over his cheeks and down to rest on his chest when you part.

“Marry me,” he breathed against your lips, his forehead against yours. Not a drop of hesitancy could be found in the proposal, nor was there any humor.

You found it hard to catch your breath in that moment as you pull away only slightly, allowing yourself to look in his eyes. They sparkled with sincerity, with the promise that he loved you entirely. His kiss swollen lips quirked up in a smile, his gaze hopeful. It was then that you smiled, bright and beaming as you kissed him once more, murmured your acceptance a thousand times over.

To love someone was a risk in and of itself, but to love someone could be just as beautiful.

—

Tags: @dreaming-about-fanfictions @heloisedaphnebrightmore @elennox03

[keanureevesisbae]

Summary: Bucky has yet to spend a Christmas with the entire Monroe family and boy, did he not expect the hectic that this family brings with them. Besides, he has something on his mind.

Bucky Barnes x Winnie Monroe (asian ofc)

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: none

Serendipity masterlist

Bucky knew the Monroes were one hectic family, but this is the first time he gets to see the Monroe family Christmas edition and boy was he not prepared for this at all. They’re staying at uncle Fritz’ place, because it’s the largest, has tons of place for everyone to stay and he can make a giant campfire.

The entire family is bundled up around the fire, sipping their tea, coffee or hot cocoa. The only one who is not sitting around the fire, is Winnie, who has dragged Lia, Thomas, Didi and Felicity with her. These kids are totally sugared up, however, Bucky’s girlfriend Winnie puts them all to shame. Boy, is she energized.

A lot has changed. Winnie and Bucky moved to Portland and she’s currently thriving in a hair salon, close to the florist Bucky works at. Brie is pregnant with her second child (another girl), just like Eloise, the youngest in-law of the family.

Leo Monroe, the eldest Monroe and the man Bucky fought in war with, who saved his life and is a constant reminder of where Bucky should be, is sitting securely next to Bucky. Despite the physical age difference, they are the closest friends. It’s nice to be around someone who has gone through many of the same things. Despite Leo’s memory and all round state of mind are quickly declining, Bucky cherishes every moment they get to spend together, just like the entire family does.

Leo is slightly shivering and Bucky wraps his arm around the old man, who’s already covered in a thick blanket. ‘Something on your mind?’

‘This might be my last Christmas,’ Leo confides to him.

Bucky shakes his head. ‘No, Leo, don’t think like that.’

The old man sighs. ‘But if it is,’ he says, ‘promise me you take good care fo my Winnie Bear.’

He can’t stop his in love smile, as he watches his girlfriend do a pretty good cartwheel, causing Didi, Felicity, Lia and Thomas attempting to do the same. However, they miserably fail. ‘Always, Leo, you know that.’

Bucky’s gaze doesn’t leave Winnie, the true love of his life. He sure is lucky to be with her.

‘You’re one lucky man,’ her dad Harold always says to him when they go see them.

And he is.

Winnie watches the girls attempting to do more cartwheels, while Thomas wraps his arms around her waist. Of all of them, Thomas was probably the happiest she moved closer to home. The little fella already slept over many times at their place. He’s quite attached to Winnie and loves her deeply, probably because she’s so different than the other cousins. She’s kinda weird, bit of a klutz and patient with all of the little kids.

And because she’s so good with the kids, he knows Harold and Raine—Winnie’s mom—are talking about eventual grandkids. They don’t know he overheard them and they never said it out loud in front of the two of them. Mostly because Winnie never brings up having kids of her own and they haven’t been dating for so long.

But there is one thing Bucky is pretty sure about: he doesn’t want kids. No matter how good Winnie is with kids, how much he likes being around the kids.

❀ ❀ ❀

That night Winnie and Bucky are in their respective bedroom. This one is the furthest away from the rest and the smallest, however they don’t mind. Winnie has put on a thick sweater of his and a pair of leggings, while he sits shirtless in just a pair of boxers underneath the covers, waiting for his girlfriend to get in bed.

This night has been quite draining, because after they made s’mores, put the kids to bed and Leo and Bettie, everyone hung out quite a bit longer. But the kid thing, it never left Bucky’s mind.

Winnie steps into the bed next to him. ‘You’ve been quiet all night. Did something happen? Did Papa say something to you?’

Bucky shrugs. ‘Just worried this might be his last Christmas, but that isn’t quite what’s on my mind.’

‘Care to let me in?’

He nods. ‘It’s just that I have a question for you first, okay?’

She nods. ‘Sure, enlighten me, darling.’

‘You want kids?’

Winnie turns around, crosses her legs and takes his hand in hers. ‘Don’t know, man,’ she says after shrugging. ‘Seeing both Brie and Eloise pregnant, certainly does not make the idea very appealing. They were talking about hemorrhoids, hence the reason I dragged the kids with me, because one) I can’t relate and two) I don’t want to talk about it. Also, did you know that Tess had a total rupture, meaning there was just one giant hole downth—’

‘I get the picture,’ Bucky quickly interrupts her.

Winnie chuckles. ‘Sorry,’ she says, squeezing his hands. ‘But why do you ask? You don’t want kids?’

‘I don’t,’ he says. ‘I don’t picture myself as a dad.’

She nods. ‘Okay. Got to admit: you rock the cool uncle role so much.’

That’s it? That’s all she’s gonna give him? ‘But?’ he carefully asks.

‘No but’s,’ Winnie says. ‘It’s okay.’

He does not quite understand. She’s so chill about it? Why? How? ‘You don’t want kids either?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she says. ‘When Brie and I were growing up, she was always dead set on having a family. I never really knew if that was for me. Besides, seeing her pregnant—then and now—makes me have a personal aversion against pregnancy for myself.’

‘So, you really don’t mind?’

She shakes her head. ‘No, besides if we do want kids in the future, we can always adopt. I mean, I’m quite the success.’

He smiles. ‘You sure are.’

‘Oh, oh, oh, you know what we could do? We could get a pet, I feel like we’re in that stage of our relationship. Personally I prefer a dog, but that’s all debatable. Or, don’t you want a pet? Because if you don’t want a pet, I don’t think this relationship can work.’

He starts to chuckle, before wrapping his arms around her shoulders. ‘I’d love a dog,’ he says.

She leans into his touch, before giving him a kiss on his lips. ‘In the new year, we could go to the pound, to see if there’s a sweet one for us to adopt.’

‘Just one ground rule,’ he says. ‘One animal. I know you and I fear if we don’t set this rule beforehand, we end up with the entire pound in our house.’

Winnie chuckles, but that’s a chuckle out of guilt. ’That is true.’

Bucky gives her a kiss. ‘You sure you’re not upset?’

‘Honey, I’m not upset. Really, how could I? I love being with you and I wouldn’t love you any less, kids or not. It’s all fine with my. Besides, I don’t have this burning wish of becoming a mom anyways.’

‘Just a burning wish for a boyfriend.’

She smacks his chest, causing him to laugh. ‘That’s mean,’ she exclaims. ‘Cannot believe you would genuinely say something like that.’

‘Just kidding, darling.’

The two of them lay underneath the covers and Winnie says: ‘I love you, my personal human heater.’

He chuckles. ‘I love you, Winnie.’

‘I have an idea,’ she says. ‘How about you and I go back home tomorrow morning, pretending we have forgotten some of the presents and have hot and heavy sex in the safety of our own house.’

He can’t help but laugh. ‘This sounds like a good idea.’ Bucky presses a kiss on her lips, when there’s a knock on the door. ‘Bet it’s Thomas who can’t sleep without his beloved aunt.’

‘Who’s there?’ Winnie asks.

The door opens and it’s all four of the young kids. ‘Can we sleep here?’ Thomas asks.

‘Sounds good. How about we get your mattresses, while Bucky makes room here, so we can place them all on the floor?’ Winnie suggests.

They all nod and Winnie gets out of bed. She ushers the kids with her and looks over her shoulder once more. ‘I love you,’ she mouths to him.

‘Love you too,’ he mouths back.

He is quick to put on some sweats and a shirt, before he lifts up the bed and carries it to the side.

Winnie Monroe sure is the love of his life.

❀ ❀ ❀

Serendipity taglist: @diegos-butt // @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair // @gearhead66 // @xobriellaxo24 // @yespolkadotkitty // @crazybutconfidentaf // @toomanystoriessolittletime // @theyhavebeautifullifeuntilme // @needmorereading // @brandycranby // @buckyisguiltypleasure // @abschaffer2 // @one-sweet-gubler

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH22

And we’re back! Chapters will resume posting on Fridays both here on tumblr and on AO3 (linked below). I hope you’re ready for the second half of this story. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve that are different from last time, so I hope you all enjoy it!

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Chapter 22: Mean

Marinette chewed her lip, picking at the hem of her shirt. She’d been too nervous to sleep, and the coffee she drank on the way to the hotel made her jittery. Clara and her manager flipped through her designs, the silence eating away at Marinette’s composure. Did Clara like them? Hate them? Had Marinette let her down? Why wasn’t she saying anything?

Clara glanced up at Marinette, a smile curling on her lips. She stood up with an amused giggle and took Marinette’s hands. “Oh, Marinette, you can chill. These designs really fit the bill. Choosing you was in good taste. Eloise, send these to my tailor, posthaste.” Clara winked, and Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. “Truly, great work, Marinette. I love them.”

“I’m glad. Thank you so much for this opportunity.” Marinette bowed.

“Although your formality is rather cutesy, there’s no need since you and I are friends, you see.” She spun Marinette around and pulled her in for a hug. “I felt a connection with you right away. If you ever need anything, you just have to say.”

Marinette’s chest swelled as Clara pulled away and brushed her nose with a finger.

“Eloise, write a check for her beautiful mind.” Clara ordered, pacing over to the piano. “I’ve got an idea for a new song that will be simply divine!”

Clara’s manager tore a check from her book and handed it to Marinette as Clara began to pluck at the piano. Marinette did a double-take to make sure the decimal was in the right place, but before she could protest, Clara’s security guard ushered her out.

“Goodbye, my dearest friend. I’ll miss you until we meet again!” Clara blew a kiss.

As the door closed behind her, Marinette glanced down at the check, heart pounding. Clara liked her designs! She considered Marinette a friend! Oh, she’d love to see the look on Lila’s face the day Clara walked the red carpet in Marinette’s dress.

“I’m so proud of you, Marinette!” Tikki said as Marinette tapped the button for the elevator. “You worked really hard, and it paid off.”

“I’m just happy that Clara liked my designs. It’s not about the money for me. I want to design clothes that make people feel good,” she said, stepping onto the elevator. “I can’t wait to tell everyone over tea this afternoon!”

“Will there be cookies at the tea party?” Tikki asked.

Marinette shot her a knowing smile and brushed her kwami’s nose with one finger. “Control that sweet tooth of yours.”

“I want to celebrate your accomplishments!” Tikki shot back indignantly. “If there happens to be cookies there, then so be it.”

“Tell you what,” Marinette said as the elevator dinged on the first floor. “I told everyone to come over at 2. Why don’t you and I celebrate now? Let’s go get some ice cream.”

Tikki perked up, ducking down into her purse. Marinette shut the clasp as she paced out the front doors of the hotel. Pulling out her phone to see where Andre was stationed today, she failed to look up as she rounded the corner and collided with another person.

“Sorry!” she gasped as they both stumbled backward, but upon seeing the face of her victim, her face hardened.

“Finally apologizing for trying to upstage me? It’s about time,” Lila said.

“I’m sorry for bumping into you. Nothing else.” Marinette rolled her eyes and stepped around her.

“So, you’re not sorry for abandoning all of your friends then? For turning your back on Alya?” Lila asked.

Marinette’s hands balled into fists, but she didn’t stop. “Alya made her choice.”

“And she chose me over you.” Lila smirked. “She even got us matching bff necklaces. She’s so sweet.”

“Congratulations. I’m sure your genuine friendship built on honesty and trust will last a lifetime.” Marinette retorted.

“I’m just glad she finally deleted her blog dedicated to that insect. She has so much more time on her hands to do all of my work,” Lila said. “You know, I’m class representative now since you deserted your post.”

Marinette bit her lip hard. Lila was taunting her, and she knew it. How could anyone be this vindictive? Marinette had always known Lila was evil, but she really had a way of one-upping herself. Marinette made a promise with Adrien to stay out of it, but no matter how far she ran, Lila was always right behind her.

Marinette spun around with a sharp retort on her tongue, but a silver limo pulling up to the curb cut her off. She half expected blond hair to pop out, but to her surprise, it was Martin who appeared.

“Hey, Marinette. I saw you walking, so I had my driver pull over.” He flicked his gaze between them. “Do you and your friend need a ride?”

“Ha! She and I will never be friends. I have much better taste,” Lila said.

Martin eyed Marinette, eyebrows knitting together when she shifted her weight.

“Then if you don’t mind, please leave her alone. She’s my friend,” he requested.

“You don’t want to be friends with a loser like her. I’m the great-granddaughter of world-famous piano player, Victor Laurent,” she said, fluffing her hair. Her sinister smile said that she’d taken all of Marinette’s friends once, and she’d do it again.

“Victor Laurent didn’t have any children. He died alone at the age of 72 from pneumonia…” Martin tilted his head to one side. “And anyway, Marinette’s great-uncle is a world-famous chef with his own brand of cookware—my mom loves his knives. Not to mention she knows Jagged Stone and is good friends with Adrien Agreste. She has a lot of connections.”

Marinette stifled a laugh as Lila gasped in offense. Martin blinked in confusion as Lila stalked off with a huff, glaring over her shoulder at them.

“Who was that girl?” he asked.

“One of the worst human beings you’ll ever meet,” Marinette replied. When Martin seemed confused, she added, “It’s a long story. I was actually on my way to get some ice cream. Wanna come?”

“Sure.”

Andre was in Marinette’s favorite spot in the Trocadero—a fitting compensation for the unpleasant encounter they’d just had. They found a bench, ice cream cones in hand, and Marinette flopped onto it with a sigh. Lila was insufferable, but Marinette wasn’t going to let it spoil her day. Clara liked her designs. Nothing else mattered.

“So, that’s the girl who turned all of your friends against you?” Martin asked, and Marinette nodded. “Wow. No wonder you changed schools. I would have changed cities.”

“I thought about it.” Marinette took a spoonful of ice cream. “She’s super manipulative, and if you side against her, she does everything in her power to ruin your life.”

“She sounds like Gabrielle just without the muscle, but at least we don’t have to put up with her now that her family’s bankrupt,” Martin said.

“Yeah…” Marinette lowered her gaze. “I bet you were really happy when you found out about Gabrielle.”

Martin shrugged. “I’m glad she doesn’t pick on everyone anymore, but I can’t imagine losing everything. I feel kinda bad for her… Is that weird?”

“I don’t think so,” Marinette said. “Actually, I feel the same way. No one deserves to go through that.” She pursed her lips, jabbing her ice cream with the spoon. “I’m surprised you of all people don’t hate her. She was the worst to you.”

“I try not to hate anyone,” Martin said around a bite. “I think everyone has good inside them deep down, and with the right influence, anyone can change if they want to.”

“So, you think Gabrielle could be a good person?” she asked.

“Well, sure. Why not?” Martin quirked a brow.

Marinette eyed him, a small smile curling on her lips. She sat up and turned to face him.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Uh, sure. What’s up?” he asked.

“It’s a long story, but Gabrielle and I are kind of friends now. I think…” Marinette admitted. “I haven’t told anyone because of everything, but I think you’re right. Anyone can be nice if they want to be, even Gabrielle.” When Martin seemed stunned, she curled her shoulders and added, “Do you hate me?”

Martin’s face softened, and he shook his head. “Of course not! I could never hate you.” He assured her. “I think it’s good. If anyone can help Gabrielle find the light inside of her, it’s you, Marinette.”

She leaned back on the bench with a smile, the spring sun warming her cheeks. Winter was over, leaving the cold and dreary behind. Nature was turning over new leaves. A fresh start, just like Marinette wanted. She took a deep breath, picturing all of the good things in her life. Adrien, Macy, Eliott, Martin, Gabrielle. Chloe, weirdly. Her parents, Tikki, Master Fu, Chat Noir, Clara. New opportunities. New beginnings.

She exhaled, letting all of the negative flow out with her breath. Lila had no power over her anymore, and after two months of running, Marinette was finally free.

♪♫♪ Cruel Summer ♪♫♪

Marinette hummed jovially, the heat from the tea kettle on the stove warming her arms. Her friends would be over soon to celebrate her presentation. After her run-in with Lila earlier, Martin dropped her off at home, where her dad made special macarons for their celebration. Talking to Martin eased her nerves, and Lila’s empty threats were far from her mind. Today she was celebrating.

It was the first time her new friends were coming to hang out at her house. After seeing all of their extravagant homes, Marinette might have felt self-conscious about her family’s tiny apartment, but her friends never gave her reason to worry. If only Adrien were joining them, but he was busy with a photoshoot. He promised to make it up to her, which had her head swimming with possibilities. Oh, she hoped whatever he had in mind involved kissing. Three almosts was driving her wild. Would she ever get to kiss those perfect lips?

And what were they now? Were they dating? Marinette didn’t know for sure, but they had to be pretty close, right? Adrien was so bold with her lately, complimenting her, touching her face, her hair, her hands… One of these days she’d snatch those lips down to hers if he didn’t kiss her soon. Kissing Adrien—the thought alone made her melt.

She wanted to hear his voice, but did she dare call him? He probably wouldn’t answer since he never brought his phone to photoshoots—always so professional. Then again, she could listen to his really cute voicemail… And she still hadn’t told him how her presentation went. Maybe she’d leave him a message. Girlfriends were allowed to do that, right? Oh god, Adrien’s girlfriend! She’d have to get used to calling herself that. Okay, no more stalling. New beginnings. Marinette wasn’t going to second-guess herself anymore. She was going to charge forward with confidence!

Pressing the call button, she chewed her lip with a giggle. This was really happening! One cute voicemail, then the next time they saw each other, she was going to kiss Adrien on the lips. Then they’d become boyfriend and girlfriend, date throughout the rest of collége and lycée, go off to university and get married, have 3 kids, and a hamster named-

Wait!

What was she going to say in the voicemail? She didn’t know how to be cute and flirty! Every time she tried, she ended up rambling about her toothbrush or falling down stairs. She needed to write a script. Abort! Abort!

“Missing me already?”

Marinette’s heart skipped at Adrien’s flirtatious lilt.

“Adrien! You answered,” she gasped.

“You called me, and you’re surprised I picked up?” he chuckled.

“Well, I thought you had a photoshoot, I was just going to leave a message,” Marinette said.

“I just got done with makeup, so I have a few minutes. I was actually thinking of calling you,” he said. “I’m sorry I can’t be there.”

“No worries. I understand.” She assured him.

“I take it your presentation went well?”

“Yeah! That’s what I was calling to tell you. Clara loved my designs! I’ve never been so happy.” Marinette paced the length of her living room, biting back a smile. “I ran into Lila as I was leaving, but not even she could ruin my mood.”

“Whoa, wait! You ran into Lila?” Adrien asked.

“Ugh, yeah, but it was fine. Martin swooped in before she got me too riled up. She even tried to lie him out of backing me up, but he totally called her out. I’ve never seen her pout so hard.” When Adrien remained quiet on the other end, she added, “I’m fine, really. I’m not going to let her bother me anymore. This thing with Clara could open up a lot of opportunities for me.”

“I guess you’re right. Lila only wishes she were half as talented as you. You’re amazing, Marinette,” Adrien said, bringing a familiar warmth to her cheeks. “They’re ready for me on set, so I have to go.”

Marinette tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, sorry for interrupting. I just wanted to tell you the good news, and…talk for a minute.”

“You can interrupt me anytime. I’m always happy to hear your voice,” he said. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay.” Marinette bit back a smile.

“Oh, and congratulations! You deserve it, Marinette.”

Marinette hung up with a dreamy sigh, hugging her phone to her chest. She was going to replay that conversation in her head for the rest of the evening. Before she could get lost in her lovestruck daydreams, the doorbell rang.

“Congratulations!” Macy hugged Marinette’s neck the moment she opened the door. “Oh, I knew she was going to love them!”

“Uh, I think you’re choking her.” Martin pointed out, and Macy let go.

“Sorry! But you did it! A major celebrity is going to wear your designs to an official awards show. That’s huge!” Macy squealed. “Oh! Is this your living room? It’s so cozy!”

As Macy pushed past Marinette into the apartment, Martin presented her with a bouquet of flowers.

“We picked these up for you on the way.”

“Thanks! That’s so sweet.” Marinette gestured him in, moving to find a vase in the kitchen. “Where’s Eliott?”

“He’ll be here soon. He was auditioning for another play today, so he’s running late,” Macy explained. “Your house is so cute! Did you make these pillows?”

“Uh, yeah. They were one of the first things I learned how to sew,” Marinette said, filling a vase in the sink. “My dad made macarons, and I’m making tea if you want any.”

Martin helped himself, taking a seat at the table, but Macy moved over to the bookcase to look at their family photos. Marinette set the vase in the middle of the table and grabbed the cups from the cupboard.

“Are you feeling better now?” Martin asked while she set the table. “I mean, after running into that girl earlier?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, surprised by how much she meant it. “I’m not worried about her anymore. I’m fine.”

Martin relaxed. “Good. You seem happier now than when you first came to school,” he said. “I could tell how sad you were, even when you were smiling.”

Marinette grabbed the kettle from the stove and pursed her lips.

“I guess I’m not as good at hiding as I thought.” She laughed bitterly. “It’s been hard, but I’m really lucky to have people that support me. I have you all to thank for that.”

“That’s what friends are for, right?” Martin smiled, an expression Marinette returned.

“Right.”

“Marinette? Is this you?” Macy held up a baby picture. “You were so cute!”

Marinette’s cheeks burned, but before she could snatch the photo away from her, the front door flew open. Eliott burst in, hair disheveled and eyes wide with panic.

“Eliott? What’s-” Macy started.

“I need help!”

[ambrosiaaddiction]

Have A Little Faith

Word Count: 1,783

Summary: You are at Lady Danbury’s evening ball, which is the perfect opportunity to find a potential suitor so that you can finally settle down. But of course, it’s not as easy as it sounds. You’ve found yourself standing far away from everyone else, and just when you think tonight will be fruitless, your childhood friend, Anthony Bridgerton, changes all of the thoughts inside your head.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Tonight was the night where I needed to do a little flirting with men I have never personally met, and hopefully, I’ll impress them with my charms. That’s if they would gauge their attention onto me instead of whatever they wanted to boast about.

Mama practically talked my ear off when we were upon arriving Lady Danbury’s estate, but Richard distracted her with the topic of his new fiancée like the eldest brother he is. I still hadn’t thanked him for his act of bravery, although, that could wait for when we were in the carriage.

In my mind, I ventured on about whether or not he would be at the ball. The last time we’ve met was nearly three days ago when our families agreed to have a picnic in celebration of a newborn baby coming into the world. As much as I enjoyed engaging in social encounters, I had been more comfortable with reading alone in my room.

But alas, he persuaded me to join everyone outside where we could eat and share jokes under the warm sun together. Since then, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his shoulder brushed against mine more than enough times to call it accidental.

The man even offered to feed me a sandwich and delectable piece of scone he had already bitten into. Luckily for the two of us, our families were too immersed with doting over the aforementioned newborn baby to realize what we were doing.

Viscount Bridgerton, informally known as Anthony or Bridgerton by both family and close friends. I was not exempt from the latter formalities, although, I’ve always wondered what my life would be like if I had not crossed paths with him.

He is everything and more when Lady Whistledown wrote about him in her society’s paper last Tuesday. And to be quite frank, he needed to work for what he wanted rather than let it fall into his lap.

It seemed unfathomable the way he charmed his way through women of the ton while simultaneously rejecting them. I found it entertaining to see the crestfallen faces of girls my age, but am I to blame for their naïveté?

Anthony Bridgerton is a Rake through and through, which I can say with the utmost certainty because I am his childhood friend.

Now, don’t get me wrong. He loves his mother and siblings in place of his late father, and he is very passionate in regards of his interests. That includes women who have a pretty face and have given him an unforgettablely good time.

But this did not excuse the trail of broken hearts as well as tearful confessions behind the Viscount. Although a bit discouraging for someone who harbored feelings for the man, I always kept a smile on my face whenever we had a conversation with one another.

Anthony was extremely well-versed in politics, social skills, and the economy. There were times when I tested him on a popular topic in the papers, which as expected, he excelled.

I should not be thinking about the past at this hour. Everyone around me was dancing, drinking their glasses of champagne, and looking for someone to court. Letting out a deep sigh, I brush off a speck of invisible dust from the hem of my dress.

That’s when I see him, politely making his way through the crowd to go to where I am. A silent panic breaks my former calm demeanor, and I quickly stand taller to seem more presentable. It does not go unnoticed in the slightest, thus Anthony chuckles behind a hand then he stands before me in his handsome glory.

“Good evening, Miss Willows. How are you enjoying the ball so far?” There’s a mischievous glint behind those mesmerizing brown eyes, but onlookers would mistake it as a completely different emotion. “Hello, Lord Bridgerton. I’m much comfortable standing on the sidelines rather than dancing the night away. Thank you for asking, my lord.”

He shakes his head with amusement, and he finds my honest reply to be of a different mood compared to the other young women. “Then you shan’t refuse my offer to dance the night away, Miss Willows.” I furrow my brows in confusion and not a moment later, I’m swept onto the dance floor.

I’ve not the chance to process all that has happened, but Anthony keeps me focused on him and only him. He lowers his head to whisper words of encouragement, and I flush like a rose when he sneaks a kiss on the apple of my cheek. It’s too much for me to understand why he chose me instead of any other woman he wanted in the ball room.

“I’m relieved to see that you’re not stepping on my feet, and how beautiful your smile glows, Miss Willows.” I’m temporarily rendered speechless as to why he’s suddenly being quite the gentleman towards me. If it weren’t for the bystanders, he and I would be playfully bantering nonstop about the most random things we could think of.

“Anthony, tell me, what’s gotten into you? I appreciate the change of attitude, but it’s not the Bridgerton I know.” He’s unresponsive for a minute, then two. I can feel his grip on my waist tighten and the subtle action to bring our bodies closer. I’m not sure how I should react, but I needn’t say anything at all when he spins me around.

“My mother wants me to find a young lady to court because she’s tired of me being a bachelor for most of my life.” “Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised because she’s right.” I’m quick to give my reply, and he briefly glares down at me. “Oh, come now, Anthony. Even Lady Whistledown knows about your spectacular reputation and preferences.”

“Yes, but that’s all she knows about me, y/n. I just don’t think I’m capable of settling down with a family of my own in the near future.” The song comes to an end, and we bow before walking together for some refreshments. I say my hellos to several couples, single lords, and some of my friends when we come across them.

“That is a lie because from my knowledge, you’re the spitting image and exact replica of your father, Anthony Bridgerton.” “Y/n, I’m grateful to have met an extraordinary woman like yourself, but sometimes you get on my nerves.” That stabbed me right in the heart. Alright, perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned his late father, but he didn’t have to be so harsh.

“Look, all I’m saying is that you can marry whoever you want to, but you’d most definitely choose a woman with the same personality as yours.” I watch him take a swig from his wine glass, and then he points it at me. Narrowing my eyes as I brace myself for possible humiliation, he sets down the glass and takes my hand to drag me off to someplace other than where we were now.

I won’t lie when I say that I was nervous yet excited to find out where he was taking me. Benedict, Colin, and Eloise all looked our way then at their mother, and I could tell that they had connected the dots. It was a good thing that Lady Bridgerton found her happy place with alcohol, otherwise she would’ve stopped Anthony in his tracks.

We eventually reach our destination, which so happens to be one of countless rooms that was conveniently far away for anyone to hear. Don’t tell me... “Anthony, what are we doing over here? Shouldn’t we be with all those people, and dancing the night away?”

No answer from my captor. He seemed to be in deep thought, and I scoffed in disbelief. I most certainly did not want to spend the rest of my time on my friend, especially when he wouldn’t tell me why he brought me here. “Look, I came to this ball to find a suitor. If you won’t answer me, then—“

Before I knew it, his lips were on mine. The hand that was once squeezing my waist found its rightful place, and the other gently brushed my hair back. I fluttered my eyes closed, letting myself melt in his embrace as we kissed with a fiery passion I knew that had always been between us.

A few moments later, he pulled away then buried his face into the crook of my neck. I felt him inhale then exhale, as though he was trying to control himself from doing something I hadn’t done before. “I want you, y/n. But only if you’ll allow me to court you. We have gone through thick and thin in our childhood, and I want nothing more to continue for the rest of our lives.”

The Viscount Anthony Bridgerton was asking for my consent to be courted, and I would be delusional to reject his confession. I’ve never seen him so sincere and vulnerable like this before, and it made me giggle. He must’ve thought that I was going to refuse his offer, but I snake my arms around his neck then kiss his soft lips for reassurance.

“I’ve never thought you would ask, Anthony. But this means no more secret meetings, alright? If I hear an inkling about you being where you’ve told me you wouldn’t be at, then I’m ending things. Am I clear, Bridgerton?” He swallows thickly and nods, so I’m rather grateful that my warning has gotten through.

I bring my hands to cup his face, and I now see how much he adores me the way he relaxes against my touch. Unfortunately, we’ve been gone for far too long, but I don’t doubt that he’ll come up with a reasonable excuse to his worrying mama.

Anthony kisses the top of my head before taking my hand and leading me back the way we came. I intertwine our fingers to which he brings up to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “It might be too soon to say this, but I absolutely and undoubtedly love you, y/n Willows. I promise to cherish you for as long as I am going to live.”

It takes a bit for me to absorb the sudden declaration, but I’m not complaining whatsoever. All that mattered was that we shared equal affection for one another, and we were willing to work for a bright, lovely lifestyle ahead of us. “And I wholeheartedly love you, Anthony Bridgerton. You are mine for eternity,”

Some might say that we were too inexperienced when it came to love, but we ignored their opinions. Like my mama used to tell me when I was a child, “Have a little faith.”

[invisibleinorange]

Bridgerton’s Adrift |  19/?

Chapters: 19/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M  Warnings: Presumed Character Death Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington,  Benedict Bridgerton,  Portia Featherington, Violet Bridgerton,  Pretty Much Everyone (at points) Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin Summary:  Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes".

Colin was only a man and as such he couldn’t help but want Penelope. His desire for her burned through every fiber of his being anytime she so much as looked at him.  He didn’t honestly know how he had been so blind in the previous season.

The irony was that no one really had. He’d certainly thought Marina was beautiful and he’d fancied himself in love with her but he hadn’t desired her. When he’d learned the truth about her and everything had ended, he hadn’t felt as if the world was ending. He’d felt relief.

Whatever she’d woke in him was thunderously loud in his head though. He was pretty sure that he would actually die of a broken heart if Penelope hadn’t returned his affections though.  If he’d returned back and been forced to watch her live as wife to his brother, he probably would have thrown himself into the Thames as dramatic as that might be.

He couldn’t live without her.

As much as he was enjoying sneaking away, stealing some kisses it was becoming difficult to not take it further.  He could impatient and impulsive at times.  Anthony had once told him that it was a matter of him being young.

He was tired of being apart from her or doing what was socially appropriate.  He wanted to start his life with her and he didn’t want to wait or get permission from Anthony or his mother to do it.  

As he laid with her, unable to sleep for fear of missing out of a single moment of solitude with her he knew what he wanted. He’d never been certain of anything in his life and he needed to verbalize it.

Penelope Featherington had to be his wife.

“Elope with me, Pen,” he murmured, body tilted toward hers. A hand was grazing her face despite the fact she was half-asleep he knew that she could hear him.

The question had pulled her back into consciousness enough to hear the question and think it over. It was absolute madness. They were already going to be enough trouble for stealing away to some inn. The accusations of ruin were going to be plentiful.

She’d imagined Colin Bridgerton asking her to marry him a million times throughout her short life and none of those had been like this.

The reality didn’t seem any less than any of those daydreams though and despite the fact that she she’d tasked him with courting her it was no longer reasonable.  They were playing a dangerous game sneaking around and eventually they were going to cave to lust or get caught. With his name attached to hers they would be immune from scandal.  

There was one thing that she hadn’t told him though, one thing that only Benedict knew about. She’d thought it imperative for anyone who was going to be permanently attached to her to know.  Benedict had taken the information well. He’d been impressed with her. She wasn’t completely sure that Colin would feel the same way.

She sat up.

“I – I - need to tell you something first and - it might change everything. I should have told you weeks ago but I didn’t want to ruin having you back with this,” she told him. The weight of it definitely did bear down on her.

Colin sat up as well, brows furrowing in concern.

“If something happened between you and Benedict when you thought I was dead, I – I can’t be mad about that,” he said stating the first thing that had come to mind. The one thing that he’d certainly thought about more times than he might have appreciated.

She frowned at the implication.

“I’ve only ever kissed you,” she said defensively.  Perhaps, she’d grown to care for his brother but nothing inappropriate had happened. There was nothing that she needed to admit there.  It was almost insulting that he thought that something might have occurred there.

Her arms crossed and it was clear she wasn’t pleased.

Colin didn’t know what she could possibly have to say that would change how he felt about her. There was literally nothing.

“I love you, Pen. I’m not going to change my mind,” he told her firmly, hoping that would be enough to get her to tell him whatever it was.

“I wrote the article about Marina,” she told him after a long moment.  “I tried my best to tell you the truth but her situation and you weren’t listening and I knew you were serious about eloping with her. I couldn’t let you –“

“Whistledown did that,” he said after a long moment shaking his head.

“And I’m her,” Penelope said after a long moment.

Colin’s jaw tightened with anger and Penelope was certain he was going to get out of the bed and leave her there.  His silence was terrifying.  To her credit, he did get up and he paced the small space of the room a few times, inhaling sharply as if trying to gather his wits about him. He didn’t leave though.

“I know that you won’t be able to look at me the same way,” she said after a long moment, arms relaxing but voice pleading, feet dangling off the bed and she debated pursuing him, “I never intended to hurt anyone. I was just desperate and you weren’t listening to reason. She told me that you could never love me – but it never changed the fact that I loved you.”

Colin moved across the space of the room, he gripped at her shoulders more forcefully than he probably should before finding himself when he realized she looked frightened.  “You could have been ruined,” he said trying to keep his voice low but he was shaking with fury though who it was directed at was unknown.  “If someone knew… If someone figured it out… The Queen could have had you locked away and you could have lost your head. What was I thinking?-”

He wasn’t mad about Marina at all. It was the peril she’d placed herself in that bothered him.   He dropped his hands after a moment, pacing starting back again.   Penelope wasn’t sure what to say or how to make this right.

“I could have gotten you in trouble with my own selfishness.  I was such an idiot and you were in front of me the whole time and I wasn’t even in love with her. I was in love with the idea of being in love until I realized I loved you.”

Penelope wasn’t sure if it was smart to approach or not.  Colin seemed to be in the middle of a bit of a breakdown of sorts. She’d never seen him so out of sorts and she didn’t quite know what this meant for his proposal or the future.

“Col-” she said after a minute, finally climbing back to her feet, moving tentatively over to him, a hand on his shoulder.

He spun back, eyes dark as he glowered down at her.  He reached a hand out and he pulled her to him successfully earning a squeak of surprise.

“I need you to understand something,” he told her firmly. There was a pause and his eyes moved to her lips.  She nodded at him, quiet as she waited for him to yell, scream or put her in her place.  His grip was firm but his did soften slightly as he backed her to the bed, letting her body fall into it. This was hardly the reaction she’d anticipated and her heart sped up.

“I’m always going to love you and if anyone ever makes you think otherwise ever again, I’m going to murder them,” he continued, climbing over her using his arms to keep himself from squishing her.

“You still want me?” she asked, gazing up to him in surprise.

He answered by pressing a needful kiss to her mouth. He was done waiting on some arbitrary thing to confirm what was in his heart. He could get past her being Whistledown. What he couldn’t get past was her trying to help him and him ignoring it or the fact that Marina Thompson would dare try and speak for how he felt. He might not have been smart enough to have had it figured out but that didn’t mean he hadn’t cared for her then.  He would have been as furious then as he was now.  He would moved Heaven and Earth to prove the words false.

Even if it had been another lifetime ago, he still felt an urgency to show Penelope just how he felt about her.

She returned his kiss, making it loud and clear that she was not going to deny him whatever he needed to get through this moment.   Her legs opened almost reflexively, arms pulling him closer until there was no space between their bodies.

“Let me have you,” he demanded against her lips. His voice was raspy, a mixture of all the emotions he was feeling flooding into this near plead because he wouldn’t dare ever do anything that Penelope didn’t consent to. He couldn’t stomach the prospect of doing her more harm.

He didn’t exactly stop himself from further exploration while he waited the answer.  His mouth darted to her throat and down letting his tongue taste her skin, a hand already set to working on the buttons of the dress she’d had on since they left London.

“Yes,” she told him firmly.

The dress was honestly done for. Colin didn’t mean to be overzealous, especially when he hadn’t exactly gone above and beyond for packing. He’d have to bribe someone to go purchase something new in the morning but he didn’t give a damn about the logistics of it all at the moment, especially when the buttons popped so easily and he could push at the fabric.

Somewhere in his mind, he’d thought to promise that he’d be gentle and make sure that she enjoyed this.  He was speechless at the sight of her bare breasts.   He’d seen her in nightgowns and shifts a time or two in recent weeks but he’d never dared push his luck.

He let out an audible groan before letting his mouth move down, one hand teasing one of her breasts while the his tongue and teeth explored the other. He kept going until he had earned a moan out.  Then and only then did he switch to the other side.  He had to be equal opportunity here.

He couldn’t help but laugh softly when he felt her small hand, tugging him back to her lips by the hairs on his head. He willingly came though, never one to turn way her demand for kisses.

He had to put a hand under her hip in an attempt to shift her though, in an effort to tug at the fabric so that he might address the issue of unmentionables.

Colin forced himself off her long enough to let his hands do the work it needed to do to rid her of the rest of the fabric. His eyes met hers as he went to undo his trousers.  He’d removed his shirt at some point during their earlier somehow less innocent kisses and it wouldn’t require much to free his erection.

Penelope’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of him though she didn’t provide commentary, didn’t dare ask the million questions that she had.  She’d gotten enough information from Daphne before her almost-wedding night that she had nothing to fear.

Colin was back on her in a minute, pressing a tempered kiss to her mouth then her nose before he let a hand move down her middle through the thatch of hair until her found the tantalizing heat of her center. He practically throbbed with need for her but he had to restrain himself a little longer.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured and she felt one finger dip inside of her.  The sensation caused her body to shift against him and an indelicate sound escaping her that only spurred him to keep going.

Penelope had been horrifically embarrassed at the graphic explanation of intimacy from Daphne. She had to give her some credit though. She’d not lied when she said there was much to be enjoyed.

His fingers were working just fine and every time he touched her differently or added more it only served to make her want him more.    

“Col-“ she murmured after a moment.

His eyes met hers and there was no mistaking what she was saying even if he already knew.  He scaled back up her body, positioning his body before he began to slip inside, nearly exploding at just how perfect she truly felt around him.

It took ever fiber of his being not to bury himself completely but he knew that he needed to take his time, knew that there would be some temporary pain involved here.  He was calculated slow, biding his time and just savoring the little sounds that were coming out of her.

He paused when he finally found resistance and he forged ahead.  He ceased all motion when he saw the slightest hint of pain cross her features, balancing himself enough so that he might run a hand through her curls to distract her from pain that he’d never have to put her through again.

When he felt her shift against him slightly, he knew that it was okay to move and it all felt so perfectly natural. He lost himself to it though he certainly didn’t let himself get overly carried away.  He wasn’t going to last long. Not this time. It had been pent up inside of him for far too long.

He let a hand move between them, working nerve endings that he knew would push her there as well while his mouth worked the one spot that he knew would make her squirm.

Penelope definitely did squirm, though she couldn’t quite explain everything that was happening in her body she knew that it was right and she was close to something.  When it hit, her body shook and she gasped.  Had she forgotten to breathe for minutes? Hours? She couldn’t even remember.

It was just enough to push him to climax, collapsing next to her.  Her tugged her in, hugging her against him as they both struggled to breath.

“… So… that was a yes to the eloping, right?” he said after a long moment, voice breathless.

She buried her face in his shoulder to fight off a fit of laughter.

The answer was definitely yes.

[nastasyafilippovnas]

2 prompts. he / she will never be you, and I would rather do difficult with you than easy with someone else. For santhony

Thanks for the prompts! I chose to do the second, hope you like it! <3

santhony + “I would rather do difficult with you than easy with someone else”, set during 1.08, after Siena agrees to go with the ball with Anthony, wc. 1.9k (ao3)

She checked the time on Anthony’s pocket watch on the bedside table and groaned. Siena swore the damned thing moved faster than any normal watch. By this rate, she was going to be terribly late and wouldn't have any time for a quick warm-up before her performance tonight. 

The man to blame for her lateness stirred behind her and proceeded to place light kisses on her shoulder, his hands around her waist pulling their bodies closer, his front against her back. 

“I am not done with you yet.” He said, his mouth moving up, trailing kisses from her shoulder up to her neck and sucking on the spot just below her ear that he knew drove her crazy.

Siena couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips. 

“We can’t.” Her protest came out weaker than she would’ve liked. They had spent most of the afternoon in bed, and she still felt hunger for his touch, his warmth next to her. She had tried giving him up, but the time apart hadn’t helped at all. She wondered if there would ever be a time where she would be immune to him. It seemed unlikely. “I must get ready for my performance.”

His kisses stopped immediately, though his mouth still hovered on her neck and she could feel his breath caressing her skin as he spoke. “I thought you would get someone to cover for you. How will you be performing if we’re going to the ball?”

Siena bit her lip. He got her there. 

“Well, I thought I would do my show and meet you at the ball later.” 

Anthony frowned, though she couldn’t see it. What she proposed wasn’t unheard of. The ton’s parties were known for extending well into the evening and many people in fact attended the opera or the theater first before arriving fashionably late at whatever ball they had also be invited to. But it wasn’t what Anthony had in mind when he invited her to go with him. He was planning to meet her at her door, with the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find - he had never given her flowers before, not even to congratulate her on her performances, and he knew she would understand the importance of the gesture. They would ride on his carriage (during which he would have to contain himself to not kiss her and ruin her dress) and enter the ball together, arm in arm, so there wouldn’t be any mistakes about the current status of relationship. Then proceed to dance the night away. Just the two of them. In no part of his scenario, he expected to spend spend half of his evening sulking in a corner and waiting for her to finish her performance. And there was the way she had said it…

“But you’re still coming, right?”

“Of course!” Her voice was too high and her answer came too quickly. She realized it at the same time Anthony turned her around so he could see her face.

“Siena…” 

She tried turning back and getting out of the bed, but Anthony was faster, his hand on her chin, keeping her in place and their eyes locked. “No, don’t do that. Don’t turn away from me, Siena. Tell me…what’s going on?”

She hated when Anthony went soft on her. It made it so much harder to be logical and practical. But she knew she had to.

“Maybe going to the ball wouldn’t be the best idea.” 

“I told you, no one will say a thing.” He answered confidently, smiling at her.

Siena sat properly in the bed, his hands falling from her face to her thigh as she started speaking. 

“And I said, not to you. Not directly. But are you ready for all the gossip and the whispers? For the men commenting about how they had me, with my legs open in my dressing room?” Before Anthony could even think of defending her honor, she added, “And it will be true! In some cases at least. Are you ready for that? And the women, your mother and your sisters…maybe they won’t say anything to you. But they will say it to me.” 

Anthony sighed. Siena had always been the most pragmatical out of the two of them, his brave soprano who still didn’t call him by his first name despite sharing his bed for the last two years. And, as always, she wasn’t wrong to have concerns. He wanted them to have their happy ending. It wouldn’t be as easy, or as painless, as he had initially told her, but it would be worth it. Of that, he was certain.

“Is that what you’re worried about? The gossip?"

She bit her lip. It wasn’t. Not exactly. Being the talk of the ton would be nothing new - she was the most notorious opera singer in London, after all -, and it would have been worth it. If she had been certain of the outcome, that is. 

She wasn’t.  

“You can change your mind, my lord. At anytime.” Before Anthony could contest, she continued, “You did it already! You promised you would always take care of me! And you changed your mind.” Regret quickly crossed his face and Siena could feel the tears forming in her eyes at the reminder of that morning, when he had tossed her aside as if she had been nothing more than an inconvenience. It wouldn’t do to start crying now. She was stronger than that.

“Right now, you’re happy we’re back together and you think we can overcome anything. What’s going to happen when everyone you know and respects turns against us?” 

“You're right.” Anthony answered quickly and Siena couldn’t hide her surprise. She had wanted him to come to his senses and agree with her, of course she did. His idea had been utter foolishness after all, born out of the high of being in each other’s arms once more. But she had expected him to at least put up a fight. It was okay, though. It only confirmed she had been right all along. She wasn’t disappointed. She wasn’t.

“Of course I am. So we can forget ever going public…”

“You're right that it won’t be as easy as I said.” He interrupted her. “Me being a viscount…my sister being a duchess…none of that will stop the talk of the ton. In fact, my mother might be the one to most strongly oppose us being together.” Anthony couldn’t hide his grimace. His mother’s reaction to his choice was the one thing he had tried to avoid thinking about at all costs. Violet Bridgerton wouldn’t give up just because he and Siena went to the Hastings’ ball together. As a matter of fact, it might only serve as further motivation on her relentless pursuit of a suitable bride for her first-born. He could count on Benedict to be on his side (his brother was pursuing Siena’s closest friend, after all) and Eloise’s curious nature would endear Siena to her, he hoped. But what about Colin? Would his brother be accepting of their relationship, when Anthony had so adamantly opposed his engagement to Miss Thompson? And Daphne and Simon, would they come to his aid as he expected, or would they worry about their own status first? Simon only referred to Siena as his mistress and Daphne wanted nothing more than to be a proper lady of the ton. Maybe neither of them wouldn’t be willing drag the Hastings' name into another scandal just for Anthony’s sake. His own family might not offer the support he craved, though he hoped they would come to understand his decision. He couldn’t keep hurting his own heart in the name of duty and honor. “It won’t be easy. But, Siena, I would rather do difficult with you than easy with someone else.” 

She shook her head. “You don’t mean that, my lord. You can’t mean that.”

Anthony let out a small laugh of incredulity, “Can’t I? And may I ask, why not?”

Siena opened and closed her mouth, at loss for words. Before she could come up with an answer, though, Anthony's hands enveloped her waist and he pulled her back to the bed and on top of him, kissing her quickly in the mouth. Surprised, it took her a moment to respond, but he was already pulling away, though his arms remained around her, his hands positioned low on her back.

“I know what this is.” He said, smiling at her. “You're scared. Scared I’m going to leave again, break things off once more and let you deal with these people’s snide comments on your own. That I’m going to see you the same way they do and I’ll turn away.” Her brown eyes looked at him with surprise and she wondered if she was indeed so transparent or if he just knew her that well. Sometimes she dreamed of the life she and Anthony could have together. More often than not, these dreams turned sour as the Anthony in them realized she would never be more than a lowly opera singer, only good for entertaining him at night between the sheets. 

“One day you will.” She murmured softly against his chest.

“No, no, never.” He protested, holding her face up, and hoping she could see the truth in his eyes and in his voice. “Siena, I wish you could see yourself as I do. The most talent, incredible, funny, smart woman I’ve ever met. There’s no one but you. Not for me. I’m sorry that I hurt you and made you ever doubt that.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and Anthony saw a single tear escape as she sighed, her hands on his chest shaking for a moment. “You make it so hard for me to do the right thing.” 

He kissed her cheek where the tear had dried before turning towards her mouth and kissing her again, hard and desperate. 

“I want you to do the right thing for us. For us and no one else.” His hand was in her hair, their heads as close together as they could without touching. “Choose us, Siena.” 

It sounded so simple when he said it. He made her believe anything was possible. But she knew this thing between them was fragile, powerful and uncontainable, yes, but fragile. It had been broken and mended together by sheer force of will, and any strong push could shatter it for good. If they wanted it survive and flourish, then they first had to protect it. 

“I can’t go to the ball with you. Not tonight.” She saw the disappointment flash through his eyes and be replaced by a mask of cold indifference as he nodded in understanding, already starting to pull away from her. 

“But I am not going to the opera either”, she quickly added and Anthony looked at her in confusion.

“I thought…maybe we could stay in tonight? We can have dinner with your brother and Genevieve later.” 

Siena looked at him expectantly.

A compromise, that’s what she proposed. Maybe they weren’t ready for the harsh light of day and the deep cutting remarks of society, but it didn’t mean they would never be. In the mean time, they could allow a little light in as they grew stronger in the dark.

“I suppose…Benedict and Madame Delacroix shall make for a decent conversation.” He answered and the smile Siena gave him was so bright it was almost blinding. “As long as you’re by my side, my lady.” 

And, because he knew she would, Anthony kissed her before she could voice her protest over his choice of endearment.

[calumrose]

Trigger [Police/Gang!AU] Chapter 2 || C.H

A//N: Chapters get a bit bigger from here on out so I hope that’s all good. I know I probably should have cut them down and maybe broken up the story better but then later I’ve got a BIG chapter and it’s all one scene so it would be even weirder I think. 

Some people like big blocky chapters, and others don’t. So, I suppose it’s just down to personal preference.

Anyway, I have no self-control so here’s chapter 2 because I’m in a really good mood. I hope you enjoy! Again, feedback is greatly appreciated! 

Word Count: 11.2k

Summary: Eloise Gray and Calum Hood, not two people you would ever think to put together. What started as a ploy for power turned into a romance, resulting in the realisation that loving your enemy may not be such a bad thing after all.

Previous Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1

Her head felt as though someone had just caved it in with a 10-kilo dumbbell, the ache setting in with great impact as her eyes barely opened to stare up at the beige ceiling above her. She let out an audible groan as she glanced over to her right, spotting the grey curtains swaying mildly in the wind as the open window allowed for the cool morning breeze to travel inside. She stared at the curtains for a few seconds, her mind clearly trying to piece together how her curtains were now a different colour than what they were when she left her apartment last night. Had she changed them when she was drunk? Surely not.

Nope, you definitely have not changed your curtains!

Her eyes drifted down from the curtains, her eyes noting the paint of the walls was also different, as was the flooring. Why couldn’t she piece it together? The bright orange bone shaped toy caught her attention, the cogs in her head turning in overdrive as she stared puzzled at what she presumed was a dog toy. Makes sense, right?

She lay on her back, the white sheets covering her body were softer than her own. Okay, it was beginning to sink in that maybe this wasn’t her apartment. The blank canvas of the ceiling allowed for her brain to paint the events of the previous night along it, her mind creating a map of the events for her to piece together.

She remembered dancing throughout the night, dancing with her friends on the floor, along the tables of the bar. She remembered diffusing an argument between Jackson and Mia, instructing for her to go home early. She remembered losing Scott, but there was something she was missing.

And then it hit Eloise like a truck, the realisation smacking her like a bumper car at the fayre.

She remembered him. She remembered Calum.

Eloise recalled how their eyes met from across the club, Mia pointing him out to her, her dark eyes meeting his as the colours of their irises blended together to create a gaze never before set. The distance between them in that moment settled in her mind, the loss of contact when she was dragged off to dance with Roman fresh in her thoughts.

But what was raw in her mind was the sensation she felt with his lips against hers. The softness brushing against the blush-coloured features on her own face as they sat in the back of that cab, the feeling on his large hands on her as they travelled up the few short stairs to his home, the feeling of her back slamming against the wall of his hallway before he dragged her to his bedroom. Eloise continued to relive the events, getting lost in memory of the feeling of his lips dragging along her jaw, down her neck, painting her skin with his full lips as she lay there, spread out like a canvas dying to be painted.

Her eyes fell to the spot next to her, expecting to find the sleeping lump of a man she had found herself going home with. But what she was met with was crumpled sheets, an empty space where he once lay. She couldn’t help but wonder what he had disappeared to, how long had she been alone for?

Eloise felt her stomach sink slightly at the realisation of the night’s events taking a turn she knew he probably wasn’t expecting, yet he was still polite enough to let her stay, enjoying her company as he held the stranger in his arms and treasured her warmth like the best kept secret he had discovered. Their lips brushed for hours as the night travelled on, their hands roamed yet never connected in the way they both deep down craved so intensely. And that was all down to Eloise; her conscious working in the back of her mind as her lips wrapped in his, a voice as sweet as a woman she remembered all too well whispering to her that she had more respect for herself than to waste a night of intimacy with a stranger.

But she couldn’t help but allow her heart to tug gingerly at the gentle, new, smile she could see when she closed her eyes, his sensual moans and raspy voice echoing in her ears as they erupted bonfires in each other’s chests. It was that reason exactly which induced her to stop in her tracks, uttering an apology before sharing a quiet “I can’t do this”, his response being unexpected as he continued to hold her while his shoulders gave a limp shrug.

“Stay anyway,” He whispered against her skin, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I just want you to stay.”

She couldn’t deny the flutter in her heart at his soft voice, her lips giving into yet another kiss as they held one another. A one-night stand where nothing fitted into the typical mould of how the stereotype was practiced by hundreds around the world. Where the typical rendezvous would be spent with loud vocals, rushed kisses and desperate movements, their time together was spent with slow kisses, soft hands and gentle whispers of each other’s beauty.

It was a night that took a turn which Eloise certainly hadn’t expected: one that she didn’t wholeheartedly regret.

Her long legs carried her through to the ensuite bathroom to her right, her tired arms having freed herself from the soft sheets she lay enveloped in, her eyes travelling around the cold white-tiled walls as her hands found the edge of the sink. She grasped her mesh top from the floor on her way, sighing as she looked at the crumpled material in her hands. She stared back at herself in the mirror, her hair dishevelled and tangled, her makeup smudged against her soft skin, her collarbones and lower neck littered with purple splodges that he had created. She gulped, swallowing the stone like lump in her throat as she tried to piece together how she got herself into this position. She couldn’t do something as simple as have meaningless sex, she chickened out every time.

“You moron,” She muttered to herself, “You complete, utter loser.”

She let the warm water run from the tap for a few minutes, watching as the endless stream flowed down the plughole, her delicate hands reaching in and cupping together beneath it, allowing for a small puddle to fill in her palms before raising it for her face and rubbed her hands gently along her skin. She grasped the face cloth she found on the towel rail, rubbing it gently along her jaw, rubbing each of her eyes as she watched as they became free from the smeared dark makeup. The transfer of the twilight coloured product on the cloth was intense, the bright blue towel bringing her attention to the spread black product that made its new home on the fabric.

She would apologise for the cloth, but Eloise couldn’t stand having that mess on her face any longer. The small dark coloured bottles littered along the small shelve to the left of the sink caught her attention next when she tossed the face cloth into the sand-coloured washing basket beside the door, her eyes reading the small intricate labels on each one as her brain thought back to the scent of him, the smell of his cologne as it infested her nose as she sat on his lap within the confined space of the yellow taxi. She swore she could still smell him, the oaky musk remaining embedded in her nose from the hours before. His eyes were blurring her vision, the chocolate swirls within them hypnotising her as she thought of him for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. She could still feel the warmth of his skin against her hands, the heat radiating off them as if she were on fire, her fingertips memorising every curvature of his skin, the rise and fall of his chest, the beat of his heart against her palm.

She could remember all these parts of a man she hardly knew, yet what had she given him to remember? A pair of blue balls and a dirty face cloth. Classy.

Her head peered out of the door which connected the bathroom back to the bedroom, her eyes falling to the unmade bed as she noted it remained empty, the bedroom door open ajar. Her bare feet carried her along the wooden floors, her eyes glancing around the room before she was pushing the door open, a whole new area now being brought to her attention. A grey hallway welcomed her, the sun beaming through the floor to ceiling windows that lined the house, her gasp stopping halfway as she witnessed how bright and open it made the home feel. She walked along the floorboards, her eyes catching the scattered photo frames that were perched along the painted walls; her eyes scanning each individual one. She made note of the large canvas at the end of the hall, the hand painted piece commanding attention as it hung proud. She wished one day to own beautiful art pieces in her apartment, her money barely being able to cover rent as it is. It was another dream to add to her list.

Eloise pieced together the photographs on the walls, figuring a lot of them were of his friends and family. It seemed as though he was very fond of them, every photograph having painfully happy smiles spread along everyone’s faces.

It wasn’t until she got to the final frame at the end of the hallway that her body froze, her shoulders tensing as her knees buckled slightly at the sight in front of her. Was she seeing things? Her heartbeat picked up a few beats, slowly but surely beginning to drown out the white noise of the house she found herself in, becoming the only sound she was able to hear.

She saw him standing there in the picture, his arms around an older lady who looked awfully alike to him and a young girl with light blonde hair who looked like the female version of him. They must’ve been his family. Her eyes then drifted to his attire, the cap on his head catching her attention first, her throat drying as she nipped at her chapped lips with her teeth, the navy colour only flooding her mind with anxiety.

Eloise felt her chest shake with the breath she took in, her hands playing with themselves in front of her as she scanned the photograph further. The shirt he wore screamed out to be detected, the rush in her chest only worsening as the gold badge on his torso glowed through the camera lens, his small sparkling name pin worn with honour on the left side of his chest taking pride of place in the photo as the blonde beside him pointed to it with a wide smile, Eloise’s eyes unable to miss how his biceps were bulging out around the constraints of the dark shirt he wore. Focus, Eloise.

He was a cop. He was a bloody cop.

She couldn’t fight the blow of fear that hit her chest like a gust of wind, her mind instantly thinking to all those feelings and memories she had flooding her mind only moments ago, now replaced with apprehension and panic as she could only imagine how this would look if anyone were to know. A Gypsy King and a cop in bed together? It would never look good. Never.

I need to get out of here, she thought. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid thudding of her heart against her ribcage and she continued her walk through the home. An open plan living room, kitchen and dining room soon welcomed her as she appeared around the corner of the hallway, the voice inside her head fighting to ignore the modernity of the decor; one that she could only dream of achieving one day.

Eloise wanted to get out of there as soon as she could, wanting to avoid the awkward exchange of thanks and small talk that she assumed they would share before she slipped into the abyss and never saw him again. She spotted her jacket hung on the back of one of the dining chairs, quickly hauling on her mesh top from the night before, the material smelling like a perfect mixture of her perfume and his cologne, the smell faded but still strong enough to throw her mind into a haze. She brought her focus back to getting out of the house that was not her own, hopefully unnoticed, as she reached for her trusty leather jacket, her hands gripping onto the collar as she lifted it, quickly slipping her arms into it as she adjusted the cold material so it sat comfortably on her shoulders. She tried desperately to ignore the uncomfortable sensation that flowed through her as she stood in her skirt, the material beginning to sit uncomfortably against her clammy thighs. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to sleep in it…

Now all that was left was for her to find her shoes, her bag being sat on the table opposite her jacket, her belongings all kept inside securely. Surely, they couldn’t be far.

Eloise sighed vocally as she glanced out of the large glass window that faced the dining table, the skyline outside of his home truly being a thing of beauty; a sight that could quite literally take anyone’s breath away. It dawned on her in that moment that she had no idea where she was, of course she was still in New York but where exactly was her question. How was she supposed to get home from here?

Her nimble fingers tore open her bag, grabbing her phone from its contents, silently praying that it still had some battery left. The screen lit up much to her relief, the photograph of her lock screen shining in all its glory as she ignored the notifications before she opened her maps, watching as the location adjusted, flashing over the globe on her screen before it settled and zoomed in to Eloise’s location, revealing that she in fact in Queens. Okay so she wasn’t too far, it was only a small drive back to Brooklyn, much to her relief, meaning it wouldn’t cost her too much in a cab. When she thought about it, Uber was probably going to be cheaper and quicker which was a key factor in the task currently at hand.

She returned to her home screen, flicking through her pages of apps, finding Uber before ordering a car, seeing the few minutes wait she would have to suffer through until she would be finally free, safe from any interaction with the man, whose house she found herself in, until she was in the safe confinements of her small complex yet again.

The black colour of her strappy heels caught her eyes as she looked at the front door, her brain contemplating over if she would actually wear them when she left, the begging voice in the back of her mind was desperate for her to just carry them, reminding her of the ache she suffered last night, her ankles still not fully forgetting the gentle burn they felt as she walked around in the torture devices. Yeah, maybe she’d just carry them.

Now all she had to do was get out of his home unnoticed, to escape down the front staircase and into a car where she could forget this ever happened, her feet already beginning to make their way towards the front door. That seemed like the easy part.

Or at least it did until a voice spoke up, the familiar satin-like tone making Eloise’s heart thud yet again.

Unable to stop herself from following the sweet sound, her eyes looked in the direction of the hallway, seeing Calum stood there in all his muscular glory, his bare chest on show as he leaned against the wall, the ends of his dark curly hair flying in every direction as his grey joggers hung loosely from his waist. The brunette’s eyes glanced at the black ink littered along his skin, the markings on his chest standing proud as the cascading artistry on his arms bulged like his muscles as he commanded the room. The fight Eloise had with herself in order to prevent her eyes from drifting downwards was a brutal one; a fight that she didn’t think she would struggle with. Much like the fight she had with her brain when she asked herself why she was feeling so heated, so not her, when she looked at him. What made him so special? He was a cop, a big red flag, the colour flashing in her mind as she tried to remind herself that he was the enemy, he was who she tried to avoid every day.

“Going somewhere so soon?” He called sweetly, “Was last night really that bad?”

She couldn’t stop her heart as it fluttered at the sweet tang in his voice, his smile resting across his pretty face, his cheeks lightly pushed up at the expression. Pull yourself together, El!

“No, it was gre-great,” She smiled nervously, glancing down at her bare feet as she placed her phone back into her bag, trying to keep her eyes off of him, not trusting herself not to give him a look she regretted, forbidding her heart from skipping at the sight of him, “I just really need to head home, I forgot that I, uh… took the spare key for my place and my friend was supposed to be staying there, so I need to, um, get home and make sure that he’s okay.”

“I’m sure he’s a big boy and can take care of himself,”

“You clearly don’t know Scott, he can barely use a toaster unattended,” Eloise let out a light-hearted laugh, her cheeks flushed as she lifted her bag and threw it over her shoulder, her eyes still refusing to meet his. “Listen, I uh, I really appreciate you letting me stay after I… y’know… kind of- “

“It’s not a problem,” Calum shrugged, his eyes never leaving the beauty who stood just meters away from his front door, “It would pretty dishonourable of me to throw you out on the basis of you not wanting to sleep with me, it would go against what my job tries to enforce, in a way, if you can understand that.”

“I saw your photo on the wall,” She nodded, her eyes slowly trailing along the floor, her confidence slowly coming back to her as she readied herself to look at him. Eloise assumed that he thought she knew what he did for work; maybe he had told her last night and she forgot? “I’m assuming that’s from when you graduated the academy?”

Calum smiled at that the thought of the photograph he adored in his hallway, it being a personal favourite of his since the day it was taken. He made note of Eloise’s stance in front of him; noting how her feet shuffled slightly against the smooth flooring, how her hands fiddled with themselves, how she chewed at her bottom lip, picking at the chapped skin with her teeth. Calum couldn’t stop himself from remembering how her hands felt tangled in his hair as they kissed; how her nails felt trailing along his chest, how her teeth nipped at his lips, painting him with sins as she worked along his golden skin before she stopped, her body halting in it’s descent, admitting to him that she couldn’t continue in the direction they both initially intended. He understood, even in his drunken state, appreciating the artistry that she was laced with as he gazed at her. He wanted her to stay. He wanted to hold her and just lay with a woman again, even if it meant nothing to her, he just wanted to hold a girl laced with charm. And that girl was Eloise.

When he awoke that morning to find her sleeping next to him, he couldn’t deny he was confused at first, unaware he had ended up taking someone home but that was before memories of her body as it moved in the club flashed across his mind, memories of her sweet tongue as it spoke teasing responses to his words throughout the ride home tingled in his ears. He couldn’t hide the sickening smile that graced his face as he watched her, her eyelashes gently fluttering against her cheeks as she slept, her makeup smudged yet still hopelessly beautiful. He couldn’t believe he was saying this about a girl he didn’t know, the only thing he knew was her name, Eloise. It rolled off his tongue as he lay there, watching as she breathed, her name replaying in his head as he whispered it to himself a few times.

Right Calum snap out of it!

“Uh yeah,” He chuckled, a hint of nerves in his voice, “I graduated a few years ago after struggling to figure out what I wanted to as a career. I realised I had an admiration for the police, and I always appreciated the work that the force has done and continues to do all over the world and the justice they stand for, so I figured it was the right path for me.”

“So, you’re a smooth talker and a soft touch then?” She teased, her almond eyes finally looking up to meet his own, “Not an ideal mix for a street cop.”

“Detective, actually,” He corrected her, “I lost the ‘street cop’ title a while ago.”

The anxiety burning up inside Eloise only escalated as he spoke those words. Oh god, this couldn’t get any worse, she thought. First, she failed at the simple task of having a one-night stand, then discovers that her blunder of a one-night stand was with a cop, only to be discovered that he’s actually a detective. This really could get any worse!

“Congratulations,” She edged a small smile, suddenly remembering that the Uber she ordered would probably be close by if not already outside, “But yeah, listen I’m sorry to cut this short but I really need to go, my ride’s outside, uh, I think.”

“You think?” He raised an eyebrow as he repeated her final words, watching as she edged further towards the door, leaning down to pick up her shoes in her hand, her back never turning on him.

“The tracking on my Uber app is never right,” She lied, shrugging her shoulders as she rolled her lips into her mouth, “It said it would ten minutes or so, so…”

“Ah right, makes sense,” He nodded, sensing she was in a rush, noting how her eyes flickered and her breath picked up a little. He could hear her heartbeat from where he stood, her nerves dancing around the room as if they were alive, “Well, uh, I guess I better make this quick.” He cleared his throat as he stood upright, the joggers hanging loosely on his hips, letting the waist band of his Calvin Klein briefs peep out, resulting in a slight sheen of sweat begin to gloss the back of Eloise’s neck, her eyes remaining focused on his, her mind working in overdrive to keep her attention focused on one feature and one feature only; his eyes. “I really enjoyed last night, and I mean that, I really did. So, I was thinking we could maybe do it again sometime but without the alcohol, like a date? Maybe dinner or something?”

Eloise could’ve sworn her entire world came to a standstill when that word left his lips. Date? He wanted a date… A detective in the NYPD wanted a date with a gang banger. It was something Eloise never thought she would hear, nor be in the situation of.

“I’ll think about it.” The words left her lips before she could even register the question fully, her brain playing catch up as her body sped ahead. She could feel her cheeks begin to heat at the realisation, the apples turning a faded pink as she gulped at her quick response.  “I… Uh… Yeah, I’ll uh, I’ll think about it.” She spoke slowly, trying to back up her initial response with a more assured version. Although the assurance was more for herself rather than Calum. She poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue as she took a shaky breath, her hand reaching for the doorknob of his front door and twisted it, the sound of the lock clicking and echoing within the small doorway.

“How am I supposed to know when you’ve made up your mind?” Calum’s voice called out, a soft smirk creasing his lips as he watched Eloise open the door to allow herself to escape from his four walls, “I don’t even have your number.”

Eloise bit the inside of her lip, unable to stop the playful smirk growing and the cheeky tone grace her voice as she responded, “You’ll know, trust me.” Her eyes looked out to the sight of the street that was revealed to her through the opening of the door, the blue sky welcoming her as the comfortable morning warmth snuck into the doorway. “I’ll find you.”

Before Calum had a chance to fire another word in her direction, she was gone. Her body had slipped through the crack of the door as the sound of the wooden panel reconnecting with the frame merely rattled as it closed, leaving Calum alone in his hallway, the only presence in there aside from him being his small four-legged companion who toddled around the garden out the back in search of new smells.

Calum couldn’t put a halt on his imagination as he pictured Eloise; her dark hair sculpting her gentle face, her almond eyes staring back at him, her delicate hands holding an entire world within them as her soft-skinned palms met his own. He had seen his fair share of beautiful women from his travels throughout his lifetime but never had he seen one as captivating as Eloise. He wanted to know what adventures lay behind her eyes, what else there was to discover and admire of the girl who flooded his mind within minutes of seeing her in that club.

But what he didn’t know was what she did. He didn’t know who she was. All he saw was a beautiful young girl who was having some drunken fun compared to the real Eloise; the rough, intelligent, broken girl who ran with the wrong crowd. She hid behind a mask, hiding the crimes she committed, hiding the deals she made, hiding it all to protect herself and make a living. It was something that no one ever expected to see when they looked at someone like Eloise. And it was a sight that Calum didn’t even know he wanted to see.

*****

The sound of the door closing rattled through the whole apartment; her shoes being discarded into the cupboard next to the entrance before she made her way into the kitchen. A loud sigh was released from within her chest as she opened her fridge, the chilled air confined within escaping free, eliciting a cool subtle breeze over Eloise as she searched the inside, hoping to find something she could eat that didn’t require much effort. Her prayers were answered as her eyes fell on a pink tub at the back of her fridge, her chipped fingernails reaching inside and grasping the container of strawberry yoghurt, a sigh of relief washing over her as she closed the door and moved across her kitchen to find a clean spoon. As much as she would have given her right arm for a greasy bacon sandwich at that moment, a large tub of cheap strawberry yoghurt would suffice.

Heavy footsteps could be heard from further inside of the apartment, her brown eyes looking up to meet with the familiar ones of Scott as he appeared in the kitchen. His eyes widened as he spotted Eloise leaning against the counter, shock in his eyes as if the sight of Eloise in her own apartment was an unexpected one. Shouldn’t she be the one stunned to find him here in his current state? She made a mental note of his lack of clothes, his boxers hanging off of his waist as he held a glass of water in his hand.  “Care to explain what you’re doing here?” She piped up, her eyebrows raising slightly as she ate a spoonful of the sweet yoghurt.

She watched as the gears in his brain began to turn, obviously trying to come up with a sentence that he prayed she would take as an answer. Her excuse to Calum replayed in her mind, remembering how she lied and said that she had to check that Scott was okay as he was ‘supposed’ to be staying at her place. And by the looks of things, he actually did.

“Right, so before you go nuts and kill me- “

His excuse was cut short by the high-pitched giggle of a familiar flamboyant-coloured, red headed girl as she waltzed into the kitchen, her arm sneaking around Scott’s waist as she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek with her smudged lipstick from the night before, the face paint still holding the rather bright pigment that matched her hair. She whispered a sultry goodbye to him before sending a knowing smirk in Eloise’s direction, her hips working excessively as she strutted out of the apartment, the door closing behind her, signalling that Scott and Eloise were left alone.

“I can’t wait to hear this,” Eloise sighed knowingly, placing the yoghurt down on the counter behind her, her clothed arms crossing along her chest as she let out a harsh huff, “Hit me with it.”

“Promise me that you’re not going to kill me first,” He pointed a knowing finger at her as he stood in her doorway, his voice increasing an octave as nerves settled in for his safety against his best friend, his shaking hand placing the half empty glass down on the countertop beside the door.

“I can’t promise you anything but I’m encouraging you to hurry up and tell me why the fuck she was in my house and why you’re here in nothing but your cheap boxers,” Her voice got louder as she spat out the words, “You better have a really good reason why you decided to use my house as your shagging shed.”

To say she was angry was an understatement. She was pissed. She didn’t get angry with Scott about much, usually both of them finding the humour in most situations, but she couldn’t stop the rage radiating inside of her at the thought of him disrespecting her like this. It could’ve been worse; she knew that but that wasn’t the point.

Scott’s lips parted as if to speak, his voice freezing in his throat as he tried to come up with an excuse. He didn’t have one, but he was sure as hell gonna make one. “Listen, El, I just- “

“Y’know what, Scott, I actually don’t want to hear whatever shit excuse you’re gonna throw my way,” She sighed, rubbing her face with one hand as she released a heavy sigh, “Just please tell me you didn’t use my bed.”

“I know I’m an asshole but I’m not that bad,” He rushed out the words, “We didn’t touch your room, I swear, we just used your shower instead.” He mumbled that last part, but unfortunately for Eloise she heard every word.

Guess it was time to disinfect her shower!

Eloise couldn’t even look at him as she shook her head, her eyes settling on the floor beneath them as she stood in silence. When she really thought about it, she wasn’t actually angry, she was just frustrated. About what, she couldn’t pinpoint but frustration was the main thing that rattled through her bones in that moment. Scott and Lydia had just been the spark to light the ignition.

“Do you want some breakfast before we need to head out?” His voice cautiously spoke out into the kitchen, his eyes searching from some kind of reassurance from the brunette that she wasn’t seconds away from throwing a fist at him. He was trying to cut the tension he knew he had created in the room, knowing that she didn’t need his mistake to be another thing to add to the list of problems she had to deal with. She responded with a single nod, moving out of the way as she put the yoghurt carton back into the fridge and sat down at her small table, watching as Scott moved around the kitchen and pieced together a quick yet fulfilling breakfast for them.

“So, this Lydia girl, are you going to be seeing her again or is this just another one-time thing?” Her question echoed around the room, her eyes watching as the muscles in Scott’s back somewhat tensed at her question before dissipating, relaxing as he worked on spreading the butter across the toasted slices of bread.

Scott was known for finding a piece of fun for the night then practically forgetting she exists once the door closed behind her the following morning. He used the same excuse every time he was asked about his girl of choice, brushing it off as if made perfect sense. In a way it did, especially when Eloise thought about it. It was quite an impactful statement to her, something that resonated with her that she had applied to her life without even realising.

“It’s easier to forget the feelings before they even have a chance of develop. When you block out a connection or love for someone it’s the safest way to stop yourself from getting hurt.” Scott recited, sighing as he put the slices of toast onto plates before placing one in front of Eloise and taking his own seat opposite her, lifting a single slice in his hand before taking a bite.

Eloise realised he had a point after the first few occasions where he would speak those words after an eventful night. The words that he spoke like an oath rang true when she viewed them in her own life. Of course, they only resulted in her fear growing every time she heard them, the truthfulness of the words speaking true as she pushed away people who she could love. Love resulted in eventual loss is what she had learnt throughout the years; loving someone so much that your heart aches is a trap, setting yourself up for destruction when that love would shatter your heart and cause the world around you to crumble. That’s what she feared most; loving someone so intensely that her world crumbled when they weren’t there anymore.

She had been a witness to the act of a world crumbling, being there on the side-lines as her dad became more broken every day after her mother died, watching as the man cracked like a mirror, each piece chipping away as the hours passed, leaving an empty corpse with no soul, no heart and no love left to share. She didn’t want to experience that for herself, living it through her dad was more than enough pain for her to handle.

Eloise had never truly experienced love. She knew that and that’s what scared her; she didn’t know what to expect other than complete self-destruction at the sensation, for her heart to be broken, and for her body and mind to follow suit. She had heard and read stories of what it feels like to be in love, many of the stories resonating from fairy tales her mother told her as a child, songs she would sing about falling in love and the beauty of it. But how could Eloise believe those words when the only true example of love she ever knew was the one her parents shared, the one which came to the tragic ending that haunts her to this day.

Her thoughts travelled from fear and anger to the recollection of the morning and night before, the thought of the tanned stranger clouding her mind yet again as she sat at the small dining table. While she thought of him with a smile that she didn’t dare show, she couldn’t not fight with herself over why she was thinking of him in such a fantasy-like manner, her mind becoming hazed as she remembered his touch, his beauty, as she remembered him. It was a failed one-night stand that she couldn’t hide her hint of embarrassment from, but there was something about that night that stuck with her. It made her feel as though it was more intimate than it would have been if they were to have had sex. The way he held her was new to her, his gentle hold on her face, her waist, all over her body, was one she hadn’t felt yet oddly enough wished to feel again. He made her feel as though he saw her, he saw the real her.

She mentally slapped herself and brought herself back to reality, her hand lifting the now cold toast to her mouth as she chewed the dull-tasting snack that her friend had made. She didn’t understand why she was sitting there, thinking of him when she knew he wouldn’t have thought about her. Especially when he learnt of who she was.

But what she didn’t know was that Calum was sitting in the exact same position in his own four walls, mind clouded with the fascination of the girl who he had only just met.

*****

Eloise’s vision should have been green with the amount of counting she had done that morning, constantly double counting rolls of dollar bills that had recently come in for the Gypsy Kings due to Han selling off a shipment of dodgy goods. Thank god she wasn’t doing this hungover, the thought of her hangover from her birthday celebrations only making her grimace at the recollection of the feeling from a few days ago. She sat at the wooden table, her lips moving as she silently counted her half of the money while Scott counted the other, both of them making a note of every $100 so it made it easier to keep track if one of them lost count. Han always handed the money over to Eloise to count, knowing she would make sure the total was accurate, but also due to the fact that she knew he hated counting.

Han had always been a key member of the Gypsy Kings, an important role in keeping the structure of the group together but also keeping the rest of them in line. Well, everyone excluding Jay who ran by his own rules when it came to how things were done. Han was young when he joined the Kings, his presence in the gang very much being one of a little brother to the other members at the beginning, him being the youngest at one point. He had joined when Eloise was a child and he only being 18; young and impressionable. Aside from Bear, Han was the only other member of the Kings who her mother, Natalia, became fond of, knowing that he was only a young boy who wanted to fit in somewhere, to have somewhere to go to call home. Her love of Han had passed down to her daughter, Eloise loving him as if he were family while she grew up.

He had a partner at one point, Eloise remembered. Her name was Ruby. She was like an annoying older sister to Eloise, the kind that you argued with a lot, but you still loved, nonetheless. She didn’t remember very much about Ruby, but she did have a few fond memories, recalling that Ruby stopped coming by when she was around 13, saying goodbye to Eloise one afternoon, before she left the house with Han and never came back. Han never talked about her anymore, the assumption Eloise had was that she was dead but something about the situation seemed to pain Han in a different way. He wasn’t hurt by grief but still by a loss as he worked to move forward throughout the years, focusing his time and power into the Gypsy Kings, working his way through ranks and settling with where he was currently: his position of being Jay’s number two, the one Jay confided in when he hated to admit he needed help with a plan, the one who could bark orders when Jay wasn’t around. The main difference between Han barking orders and Jay doing so was that Han never ‘barked’ instead he instructed, and the boys around him complied 90% of the time with what he asked when he was running things.

“That’s my half counted,” Scott wrote his final total on the notepad, letting out a sigh of relief as he tossed the pen onto the table and leaned back in his chair, “I never want to touch another dollar bill again!”

Eloise snickered at her friend’s remark, shaking her head as she continued to count the final roll of notes in her hand, smiling to herself as she tossed the last green bill into the bag before writing her final total down as well, working out the maths as she combined the two totals to get the final sum.

“How much did it come to?” Han’s voice spoke from behind Eloise, his hands resting on the back of her chair as he looked down at the notepad as she wrote.

“You’ve got yourself a grand total of $5,000,” She smirked, dropping the pen as she tilted her head up and flashing a smile at the familiar face, “Nice job on that shipment though, Han, Jay’s gonna be pleased with that money coming in, and now we just need to get another one sooner rather than later.”

“We need to figure out another direction we can take to keep money coming in,” Han spoke as he took a seat next to the two young members, “We need something sturdy that doesn’t necessarily mean having to wait around for a big enough opportunity to come knocking.”

Han was right. The gang needed money in order to keep going, as great as it was that Han was bringing in big money, they knew it wouldn’t last once it was divided and dispersed through the gang while also invested in the business antics they currently ran. They needed more opportunities. Han could only make the big deals when he had enough product to ship, enough to make a big sum with the least amount of risk possible. Han’s expertise was in black market materials: mainly blacklisted weapons, booze and cigars. He had big clients who bought from him across the seas but also in the states, clients who paid big money for the products he could get. Han was a productive businessman, the talent of making money being something it seemed he was born with.

Eloise picked at her brain as she tried to figure out a business venture that they could attempt to take in order to make a profit, one that fit in with the rest, and one that would be promising.

“I’ve got it!” Scott cheered, his eyes shooting wide as he stared at Eloise and Han, his hand slamming onto the table, “Why don’t we run some fights? There’s a handful of boys here who would be dying to get into the ring and throw a few punches for some good money, we could take bets- “

“The point of this new expansion in the business is to not draw attention to ourselves,” Han cut him off, letting a frustrated sigh escape his lips, “Somehow I don’t think inviting the people of New York to an underground fight is the best way not keeping things on the down low.”

Eloise watched as Scott rolled his eyes, his plan being thrown into the non-existent bin as he tried to figure out a new plan. Then it came to her, “What about a protection service?”

“El, somehow I don’t- “

“No, shut up and listen to me,” She stopped Scott in his tracks, “We know plenty of dodgy characters around the city who conduct sketchy business every day and nine times out ten they get caught or worse, they get ransacked before they get a chance to sell.” She explained, her eyes looking at Han, her finger prodding the table as she pitched her idea. “If we offered a protection service for a good price, whether it be to keep an eye on goods or attend dealings with them or god knows what and they take us up on it, then that means we’ve got money coming in but also we can obtain inside details on shipments and transactions all around the city. We can expand the Gypsy Kings even more than we already have.”

Han’s face was a picture at the sound of Eloise’s pitch, a proud smile spreading across his face as he patted her shoulder and nodded, “It’s a good plan, I like it. Nice job, El, you’ve really grown into your boots in the business side of things.”

Eloise smiled up at the comforting face of Han, knowing she had come up with a good idea the minute she pitched it. “All we need to do is get clients and dispatch some of the guys.”

“I’ll discuss charges with Jay, and I’ll get back to you on that one,” Han pushed himself out of his seat, “But we’ll keep them semi-respectable. We need profit with small risk, no more deaths of our hands.”

“Bigger risk means more money,” Scott piped in, tilting his head as he looked at Han, his shoulders shrugging as he watched Han’s brain begin to work, “If it the client fits then why not take the jump?”

“Like I said, I’ll talk with Jay and we’ll go from there.”

Han’s large hand patted Eloise’s shoulder once more before he disappeared into the back of the hideout, leaving the Eloise and Scott in the main room with the others who continued to play fight and argue with one another.

“Han’s pet.” Scott grumbled under his breath, catching Eloise’s eyes as they shot to him. He smirked playfully at her stare, unable to hold back the light laugh as he felt her foot against the leg of his chair before her hands reached forward and pushed against his chest in an attempt to push him out of his seat.

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling at her friend before sitting back in her seat.

A bang detonated throughout the room all of a sudden, every pair of eyes flying to the door as Jay stormed in and made his way to the table in the centre of the room. He looked as if he was up to something. Eloise was never sure whether she liked that look he had or not, unable to decipher if she was going to like what plan he came up with in that moment. He called everybody’s attention as they gathered at the table, surrounding the leader as he watched as all eyes fell to him.

“The Ryders’ shipment deal fell through,” He announced, his eyes wild with excitement as he spoke, “Eddy and his boys went to collect the shipment last night but were busted by cops in transit. The deal went to shit and the shipment has now gone back Cuba, but here’s where it gets good, I’ve been given some contacts for the guys who were originally bringing the shipment over and they’re open to dealing with us,” His eyes were wild with desire, the green of eyes turning darker as his pupils enlarged at the euphoria he seemed to be feeling at the thought of the possibility, “But they want $35,000 for the lot. Eddy was willing to pay the money for it as the profit is supposedly five times the amount, and with a profit like that it makes it the perfect deal with us.”

“And how do you expect us to pay for that, Jay? We’re hardly making ends meet here as it is,” Eloise piped up, her arms crossed on the tabletop, “We haven’t got even a fraction of the money to pay for that deal.”

“Who said anything about paying for it?” He smirked, looking around at the enlarged eyes of his followers, “It’s coming into the city in a few weeks’ time, it’s gonna be coming to the abandoned Navy Yard just west of Williamsburg. All we need to do is hijack the shipment and it’s ours. They typically travel in a small group for the deals, there’s gonna be more of us than there is of them, so it’s gonna be an easy take.”

“What about the cops?” Taylor, another member of the gang asked, “The cops caught the Ryders before, so they obviously know about the shipment, what’s gonna stop them from coming after us when they hear it’s coming back into the city? You know it won’t take them long to figure out who’s collecting it and if we get caught, we’re done for, Jay, especially if they catch us after- ” Jay stopped him, cutting him off as he waved him off, assuring that it would be fine and he would handle it. Jay always handled it.

Taylor wasn’t wrong. If the cops had busted a deal with these guys already, they would know to be expecting a second attempt to be taking place. And if they caught a whiff of the Gypsy Kings being the buyers then they would be finished, most of the gang would be put in prison for life meanwhile a few others would most likely get death row. The Kings had a reputation throughout the city, one that a lot of people feared, one that angered a lot of cops, but that’s the way things were run within the gang. ‘Make those who wish to destroy you fear you’.

“What if someone could distract them?” Luis’s voice chimed in, “If someone could cause a diversion on the night then that would work, wouldn’t it?”

“Or what if someone led them in the wrong direction from the very beginning?” Scott’s voice echoed through the room.

All eyes fell to Scott as he leaned forward in his seat, hand moving throughout the air as he expanded on his previous suggestion.

“If we could get someone on the inside with the police and lead them off them off our trail on the build-up the night, surely that would, if anything, lower our chances of being caught to being as small as possible,” He stood up in his seat, leaning forward on the table slightly, “And if they did end up coming after us then it would be rushed, they wouldn’t have time to plan cut off points in the road or lay any traps for us to fall into. We just need a few back-up escape routes out of the boat yard and the shipment is ours. We’d be out of sight and back home safe and sound with full pockets and no cops to stop us.”

Jay was smiling like the Cheshire cat at Scott’s plan, his eyes practically bulging out of his head at the thought of getting away with robbing such a huge shipment and having the cops know nothing about it. It was almost as if it turned him on. Ew. “You, my dear Scotty, are a fucking genius!” He yelled proudly, a loud laugh escaping him as he slammed his hand onto the table.

Eloise tried to hide her distaste for the plan, not liking the sound of it or how confident Jay and Scott had both suddenly became with it. It seemed as if there were holes within it the scheme that even she couldn’t amend. There was something about the whole shipment robbery and Jay’s excitement with it that didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t trust it.

“Now, all you’ve got to do is work out who’s going to be your rat,” Gabriel spoke up, his eyes glancing up at Jay as he stood to the side of the group, “Who do you think you can trust to get in with cops with the least retaliation or backlash?”

“Looks as if it’s your time to shine, sweetheart.” Jay’s voice spoke almost instantly in response to Gabriel’s question, eyes travelling across the room.

It took a moment of silence before it registered that Jay’s eyes had shifted from the tank of man that was Gabriel to the only female in the room, Eloise. She looked up, feeling his eyes burn into hers as he stared at her, the wicked trademark smirk of Jay Snow planted firmly on his lips.

“You can’t be serious,” She scoffed, “No offence but I’m not your ‘rat’. I don’t fit in with cops.”

“But you see, love, you fit in better than anyone of us here. You’ve got the assets that we lack, more persuasion tactics that we can’t execute. You can work your magic on an officer or two, feed them false intel, led them astray, hell, shoot them, I don’t care,” He walked around the table, closing the distance between them before he grabbed her face, forcing her to look directly into his eyes, “You’re gonna get yourself linked to the NYPD one way or another, I don’t care how, but you’re gonna do it and you’re gonna it today.”

Eloise released a shaky breath as Jay’s grip tightened, his fingers searing holes into her skin as he glared down at her, “And what if I don’t?”

“You don’t want to know that outcome,” Jay tutted, “But let’s just say, you’ll be having a little family reunion a lot sooner than you would have thought.”

Eloise could feel her body heating at the remark, her heartrate picking up at the mention of her parents as the word ‘family’ rolled off Jay’s tongue like a drop of poison. “Fuck you, Jay.” She seethed.

Jay practically threw her head out of his vice-like grip as he laughed at her, walking back around as he returned to his previous position at the head of the table, his eyes never leaving Eloise’s as he watched her shake with anger.

“El will start making progress with the cops tonight, and we’ll be ready to go in a month, everybody got that?” Jay recalled, his eyes eventually breaking from her brown ones as he looked around at the scattered members of the gang.

The sound of mumbled agreements and varied incoherent words travelled amongst the group before they dispersed, Jay’s tall stature vanishing into the back room once again, the sound of the door slamming resonating within the walls. Eloise couldn’t help how shaky her breathing had become, unable to break her stare from the blueprint that had been spread across the table, her teeth nibbling at the inside of her cheek as Jay’s instruction reiterated itself in her mind numerous times.

She didn’t even feel Scott’s hand on her arm at first, the cool contrast against her heated skin as her leather jacket sleeve was pressed against her, her eyes breaking with the blue spread to briefly meet the golden eyes of the boy beside her.

“Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?” She spoke before she could stop herself, her voice shaking briefly as her eyes were full of hurt as she stared at her best friend, “Could you not have some up with anything else as an idea? Now Jay wants me to risk god knows what just so he can get some shitty shipment, thanks for that, Scott.”

“Don’t blame me for this,” He shook his head, “Listen, I’m sorry you got picked to be the guinea pig in Jay’s plot but like you and Han were saying earlier, we need the money. And with the money from this deal, we’ll be rolling in it, we’ll be almost set up for success.”

“You’re really going to let me do something as stupid as this for some success?” She asked, her expression remaining unchanged, “You’re supposed to be my friend, since when did- “

“I would rather let you do something stupid than watch as my best friend gets shot,” He stopped her midsentence, “If doing this stupid means I don’t have to watch Jay raise a gun to you then I don’t care what anyone has to do, I’ll go along with it if it prevents losing you.”

Eloise could have sworn something was playing guitar with her heart strings, it felt as if someone had twanged of the chords, the vibration echoing throughout her body as her eyes watered ever so slightly at Scott’s words. She knew he only ever wanted to look out for her but god she couldn’t help but feel as though he was against her at the same time, especially in moments like these.

“El, can I have a chat with you out the back please?” Han’s voice called through the hall, tearing Eloise from her silent moment before she pushed her tears back, refusing to cry in front of anyone in that room, Scott included.

She excused herself from Scott, shoving her hands in her pockets as she followed the older man through the backdoor of the hideout, stepping outside into another side alley, no exits or entrance other than the door that led back inside.

“What is it, Han?” She asked, sighing as she leaned against the crate that was opposite the door, staring back at the man who invited her out here while he stood in front of the door, blocking her outside. She couldn’t hide the fed-up expression on her face, just wanting to go home and be alone for a few hours. Her wish to ignore everyone around her resonated stronger than any other feeling in that moment.

“I need to ask you a question, right, and I want the truth,” Han spoke out, his arms crossing along his chest, his muscles making an appearance as he broadened his shoulders, “No bullshit excuses, just a straight answer, got it?”

Eloise fought to roll her eyes as Han spoke, looking up at the man, one of the few who she solemnly trusted, waiting for him to ask his question. Typically, anytime someone was brought out there or separated from the group for a talking to by Han or Jay, it usually ended with a few punches, some yelling and a black eye or burst lip. But when it came to Han and Eloise, the most intense it got was the odd shout; hands were never raised to one another in any shape or form.

“Why were you in Queens the day after your birthday?” Han leaned against the door as he watched Eloise shift on her feet, “I had one of my snitches out there at the weekend, keeping an eye out for potential buyers and instead of coming back to me with names of buyers or dealers, he came back with some information, telling me that you, Eloise Gray, were spotted leaving a certain individual’s house in the early hours of the morning. Care to enlighten me?”

“You’re really using my full name? ‘M not gonna lie, I didn’t think that your style, Han,” She rolled her eyes, a bitter laugh brushing past her lips.

God, he made her feel like a child being scolded for drawing on the walls or something, the thought crossing her mind if he sometimes forgot she wasn’t the little girl who he met all those years ago.

“What’s it to you anyway?” She shrugged, subtly trying to avoid the question at hand, knowing that Han wasn’t going to like the answer. Eloise knew of the disapproval of members of the Kings being places they didn���t need to be, Jay putting the makeshift rule in place of if you have ‘friends’ then you take them to your own place. She never listened to Jay anyway, well at least she used to not listen, now she didn’t seem to have a choice.

“Because from what I hear that house doesn’t belong to just anyone,” Han sighed, squinting his eyes slightly as the sun rose up over the roof, lighting up the secluded area where they stood. “And I have a feeling you know, as well as I do, exactly who he is.”

Eloise released a breath she didn’t know she was holding, throwing her head back against the crate she leaned on, her hands somehow digging further into her pockets as she was questioned, “So what if I do?”

“I just hope you realise how that looks to the others; the fact that you slept with a police detective and then all of a sudden the Ryders’ deal goes bust,” Han leaned forward in his stance, watching as Eloise’s eyes widened in realisation of what he accusing, “If anyone else was to know, you know there would be no hes- “

“I didn’t sleep with him!” She snapped, an accusing finger pointed at Han, “I’ll admit that I had the intention to, but I swear to you, I never slept with him. I didn’t even know he was a cop until the morning after.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Han sighed, “You know how it sounds, never mind how it looks, to anyone who knows of what either of you are.”

“And what am I supposed to do about that, Han, hm? I can’t change what happened,” She groaned, her knees bending as she knelt down, her head in her hands as she let out a frustrated yell.

Eloise noted the silence from Han, the only noise the alley being the sound of passing traffic on the opposite side of the fence to their right. Her heart thudded in her ears as she looked up, watching as Han’s brain ticked like clockwork, piecing together a plan that Eloise only dreaded to hear.

“Use it to your advantage,” He spoke after a moment, as if a wave of realisation washed over him, “No one knows that you know him and no one knows about Jay’s feud with the Ryders, you can use this to help you and to help us,” It was as if he suddenly hit a stroke of genius, his mind becoming blind with the possibility of the plan following through, “Reach out to the detective, and keep him busy for the next few weeks, give him false leads and keep the NYPD as far away from us as possible. Do whatever you need to do, sleep with him or don’t, hell even date him if you have to.”

Eloise couldn’t believe what she was hearing, her stomach twisting at the plan that was unfolding right in front of her, “So you want me to fake feelings for a guy I almost slept with in order to help Jay get his money?”

“No,” He shook his head, “I’m asking you to play along with this plan just until the deal is over and then you can cut him loose, no more pretending and no more secrets. This deal is going to make the Gypsy Kings a top tier association of the city. I need you to do this for me, please, Eloise.”

The twisting of her stomach couldn’t be ignored as she watched the pleading eyes of the man in front of her burrow into her own. She thought about Calum briefly, was it fair to pull him along all for the ploy of cashing in?

“How can you be sure he’ll even be interested in my ‘fake’ feelings?” Eloise asked, tilting her head to the side as she stood up straight again, “It’s game over if he doesn’t reciprocate.”

“Oh trust me, El, he’d be lucky for you to show interest, whether it be fake or not,” Han chuckled, taking a step closer to her as he rested his hands on her shoulders, “He took you back to his place that night with his intentions made very clear and considering he let you stay the night even when you said no, that shows that he’ll be more than willing to show some interest back if you give him half the chance.”

“And what if it falls through? What if it doesn’t work out?” Eloise let out a sigh, her hands finding the inside of her pockets yet again, her fingers fidgeting with their contents. She felt as if she was signing a makeshift contract, with every question she threw in Han’s direction it was another drop of imaginary ink in her pen as she signed up to the proposed plan.

“That won’t happen because you’re not going to let it,” Han calmly spoke, “Listen to me, El, this is your best option right now. You and I both know Jay isn’t afraid to follow through on a threat and so help me god if he did because you wouldn’t be the only one losing a life, I’d make sure he lost his in the worst way possible if he lay a finger on you.”

“So, you’re happy for me to play ‘happy girlfriend’ to a cop who could kill me if he finds out about our plan all because you can swear to me that you’ll kill Jay if he shoots me first?” Eloise scowled, eyes burning a hole in her boots as she stared down at them, “I could die either way and you’re happy to take that risk?”

“But you’ll be in control of the job, no one can interfere with how you run things. All you need to make sure you create as many holes as possible in the polices’ knowledge of that shipment,” Han whispered, cupping the young girl’s face to make her look at him, “This is all down to you. You play it how you want. You know I only want what’s best for you, El, and right now, this is your best shot. Do it for you, forget about Jay, forget about me, even forget about Scott. Do the job for the sole purpose of setting yourself up, maybe you can finally see somewhere new like you’ve always wanted, maybe you can see the world once this is over.”

Eloise sighed deeply when she felt him press a single loving kiss the top of her head, rubbing her cheek gently with the rough pad of his thumb before he stepped back to return to the inside of the hideout.

“Seriously, El, let this be something you do for you. Do it to make your family proud.”

Make your family proud. The words echoed in her ears as she stood there in the empty alley, a lump forming in her throat as she looked at the now empty doorway. How were her family supposed to be proud of a girl who was as broken as a warped record? How were her family supposed to be proud of a girl who got drunk to drown out the sad numb feeling in her brain so she could forget what it felt like? How were her family supposed to be proud of a girl who was about to play with someone’s heart for money?

Eloise couldn’t make her family proud. She could only make her family disappointed.

--- 

Tag List: @steviemae​

[abendrotbrav]

CHARACTER INTERVIEW

▌real name: Sophia Brechtje Eloise Aveline Vogel-Westenra

▌single or taken: Single by default.

▌abilities or powers: In her fantasy verse, she is incredibly skilled at shapeshfiting, curses, and healing magic. In fate verse, she makes potions/poisons and is an immense battery of magical energy to the point of actively harming herself if not managed.

▌eye color: Pale blonde.

▌hair color: Bright, olive green.

▌family members: Vincent Westenra (father), Elizabeth Vogel (mother), Cassandra ‘Cassie’ Vogel-Westenra (little sister.)

▌pets: None. But she’d like a snake someday.

▌something they don’t like: Responsibility. Being disliked, but even worse is being ignored. Abandoned. People who aren’t very expressive. Overly clean and minimalist aesthetics. Vulnerability.

▌hobbies/activities: Poetry, baking, people-watching. She’s a horrible cook. Enjoys writing down particularly odd thoughts to pose as debates, because seeing people reel to grapple with her chaos is very, very amusing. In the right setting, if she could, she would sob with joy at the idea of having a garden.

▌ever hurt anyone before: Yes.

▌ever killed anyone before: Depending on the verse, yes. In most verses, yes.

▌worst habits: She’s a self-fulfilling prophecy when it comes to all of her relationships that go beyond the superficial. She can’t just ‘turn off’ her lying, masks, and general deception and obsessiveness over having complete control of how people perceive her. Thus, even positive shifts in opinion from other people she cares about throw her off balance. She either clings to a false idea of how she ‘has to act’ to keep up that new opinion someone has of her, or she spirals into self-loathing because she has ‘fooled’ someone for thinking she is a good person and has to ‘right’ this deception. Which, of course, because she does not want to lose people, leads to guilt tripping in the second case and further manipulation in the first. It’s incredibly hard for her to break out of this cycle and often, Sophia does not even recognize she’s perpetuating it at all. It’s built into her behavior and would take significant effort on her part and support from others to even begin to change it.

▌role models: In an odd, reverse style way, her parents are her role models... in that they are perfect examples of what not to do.

▌sexual orientation: Demisexual. It’s 0 or 100 with her with no real in between.

▌thoughts on marriage/kids: A bit obsessed with the idea of having a comically big family and a loving spouse. The idea of commitment is something Sophia is... well, very much in love with. Not getting married and/or having children would be a legitimate sacrifice for Sophia in a relationship, though it is one she may be willing to make. She really, really wants the security that the idea of marriage gives her, and likewise, despite being terrified of being her mother... she wants more family, and however selfish or not it is, she wants children to love and raise. She wants to be a mother.

▌fears: There are many, but there is one in specific that she rarely talks about; having to be the sole provider for someone. Being the only person that can do something for someone or something, being responsible, and that resentment of being the only one doing work slowly building and building until eventually she snaps. Then, losing that person or thing forever as a result, or causing more harm because they now feel they cannot ask for her help. She hates responsibility and actively has built herself around avoiding it as much as possible as a result.

▌style preferences: Sophia is well-known for liking cute and comfortable things, with softness being the biggest preference. While this isn’t completely wrong, she actually wishes she had the excuse to mix up her style a bit more. She really likes playing around with hair accessories, and wishes she had the time and patience to grow out her hair to be able to do different things with it.

▌someone they love: Her sister. She would do anything for her. Even be all that the young girl has, even if it strains her immensely.

▌approach to friendships: Hahahah... manipulation. Again, Sophia clings to having control of the situation, even and especially in ways that don’t manifest as the typical ‘in charge friend’ sort of behavior. She also takes a very long time to genuinely care about people, so her ‘friendships’ always start with manipulation and take a decent while to shift from that.

▌thoughts on pie: Cinnamon apple pie is her favorite, but to be quite honest, she likes cheesecake more.

▌favorite drink: Strawberry milk, though she thinks it’s childish of her. Vodka if alcoholic drinks are included. She also enjoys a specific kind of tea with rose hips, honey, a dash of milk, and lavender.

▌favorite place to spend time at: Her room, alone. (She enjoys gardens, too. The sunlight and flowers and plants, the smell of earth and sprinklers and even the bees more than the butterflies. But it’s an odd secret.)

▌swim in the lake or in the ocean: The ocean! It would probably take hours to try to wrangle Sophia out of the ocean if given the chance.

▌their type: People who care about her openly, who are willing to accept her faults, and will support her without begrudging her for it. At an equal level of importance, people that she feels safe with because she can be herself, and that she isn’t at a ‘disadvantage’ with them.

▌camping or indoors: Indoors. Sophia likes nature and doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty gardening... but the romantic idea of camping under the stars falls apart when she considers mosquitos. Or bears. (Mostly mosquitos are the deterrent, though. You can punch a bear. You can’t punch mosquitos. You’re just punching the air or yourself.)

Tagged by: @ardenssolis​ (thank you!!)

Tagging: i think everyone has done this but IF YOU HAVEN’T GO AHEAD!!

[chicagocityfclanspromoblog]

Robert J. Fischer → Charlie Webber, Justin Theroux, Alexander Skarsgård, Aly Michalka → Human Shifter

→ Basic Information

Age: 297

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Birthday: May 29

Zodiac Sign: Gemini

Religion: Christian

→ His Personality

Robert is thoroughly a product of his upbringing. A smooth con artist mother plus her clingy husband, he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Seeing his mother die at the hands of his father, and then his father’s subsequent death has left a scar in Robert’s psyche that often makes it difficult to form long term romantic connections. He’s terrified of marriage and has walked away many times from relationships that became too serious. Despite this, Robert at his core is lonely. He hates being alone, and loved living with his three best friends. He currently finds his apartment deafeningly quiet and a miserable place to be. Being the child of millionaires, created an ego in Robert, one that he has tamed enough to listen to others and not immediately assume he’s the only right one.  

Robert is a very suave individual, able to talk to anyone and sweet talk his way into their hearts. His ability to shift like a chameleon and mirror other’s abilities goes far beyond many human shifters. Another way he draws people in is with his passionate ideals, often spoken loudly, and a desire to make positive change in people. He regularly puts his money where his mouth is, and has funded numerous improvement projects in various low income communities. He very much enjoys spending his money on people and has a generous spirit. Despite any and all flaws that Robert may have, he is a great friend, it is clear he cares for everyone’s well being and is a great support system. Robert will occasionally surprise his friends with expensive gifts, despite the fact that as a whole human shifters rarely need it.

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Political Candidate for Mayor

Scars: None

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Cocktail parties and Arguing

Two Dislikes: Pinstripe suits and Being the last one at a party

Two Fears: Marriage and Guns

Two Hobbies: Rugby and Chess

Three Positive Traits: Suave, Passionate, Generous

Three Negative Traits: Egotistical, Repressed, Lonely

→ His Connections

Parent Names:

Eloise Fischer (Mother): Eloise Fischer was one of the greatest conwomen of her time. Seamlessly stealing faces and heart, becoming very wealthy in a short amount of time. She taught him how to charm and schmooze his way to whatever he wanted.

Michael Fischer (Father): Michael Fischer was the sad sack that fell in love with Eloise. A powerful human shifter himself, he always played second fiddle to her games. Michael murdered Eloise over these games, and then himself, leaving Robert with a complex and a lot of money.

Sibling Names:

None

Children Names:

None

Romantic Connections:

None

Platonic Connections:

Churchill Darling (Best Friend): Church and Robert clicked as soon as they met unexpectedly. While their histories are nowhere near the same, they both enjoyed taking faces and living as the person they wear. Robert, Churchill, Vincent and Patch all shared one apartment until recently, when Robert was tasked with running for mayor. Robert misses his best buddies but has an unknown form (Alexander Skarsgård) designated for hanging out and having fun.

Vincent Kane (Best Friend): Vincent and Robert grew up together. In the past they would take on sibling forms and live as brothers. Robert, Churchill, Vincent and Patch all shared one apartment until recently, when Robert was tasked with running for mayor. Robert misses his best buddies but has an unknown form (Alexander Skarsgård) designated for hanging out and having fun.

Jev ‘Patch’ Cipriano (Best Friend): Patch is a godsend and a joy to be around. Robert feels as if Patch is the younger brother his parents never had the chance to give him. It’s a plus that Patch’s parents love and care for Robert also. Robert, Churchill, Vincent and Patch all shared one apartment until recently, when Robert was tasked with running for mayor. Robert misses his best buddies but has an unknown form (Alexander Skarsgård) designated for hanging out and having fun.

Sirius Cobic (Old Friend): Robert has known Sirius his entire life. Robert was destroyed by his mother’s death. He was acting recklessly, needlessly spending money and spiraling out of control. Sirius pulled Robert out of his reckless depression and straightened him out. Sirius then took Robert under his wings.

Douglas Gish (Good Friend): Douglas is a good time walking. He always knows he can rely on him to be there at a moment’s notice. They were partners for a while when they both worked the beat. Though they were only together for a decade, the two formed a lifelong bond.

D.W. Colt (Good Friend): When Robert found himself in the advocacy track for a decade, D.W. trained him and tapped into some of the very repressed aspects of his personality. She showed him how to connect to the victims and he credits this for his impeccable listening skills. Robert didn’t last his typical full decade as an advocate, due to getting too invested with his cases, especially those involving familial murder and femicide. This was his last job in the police and law sector before he and Sirius decided he should run for office. He credits D.W. with a lot of his growth, but is very worried for her. The Colts are vicious and he can’t lose her to their violence.

Arthur ‘Art’ Milligan Jr. (Friend): Art and Robert worked together in the 1970s investigating the Chicago Outfit. They took a few mobsters out in their time, but it never really held interest for Robert. Art was a good partner and friend. They don’t get to speak as much lately, but Arthur always attends his retirement parties.

Winston ‘Sticks’ Abioye (Friend): Winston and Robert partnered up during the 60s on Homicide. They had a prolific career and caught, at the time, the largest number of suspects. It was a wild ride, and their energies often boosted one another up. He was sad to see his time in Homicide end, but he knew if he stayed he’d regret it eventually. Winston regularly gets an invite when the boys hang out together.

Shannon Harris (Media Consultant): Shannon is quieter, but has a good perception of public image. She is genuinely a very likable person which has reflected well on himself and his campaign. In addition to keeping Vee on as an advisor, he’d like to tempt Shannon to stay too.

Vanessa Stone (Campaign Manager): Vee is a spitfire. Always ready to argue her point to the death, she is prepared to stand firm in her beliefs until you go to her side. He’s found that hearing her idea out often gives him a better insight to the population he’ll be running soon, and has caused him to change his mind on a few issues.

Katherine King (Finance Consultant): Katherine is good at handling the finances. He wasn’t sure if there’d be a member of the Jackals he could trust with the job, but she’s doing well. It’s even better that she never asks where the money is coming from and simply does her job.

Greta Bow (Friend): Robert has a lot of money, and enjoys spending it on people. Greta is one of his favorites to surprise with something. She never expects it and her face lights up when she sees whatever it is.

Hostile Connections:

Colin Colt (Dislike): Robert is aware of D.W’s undercover status with the Colt Hunter Family. He is absolutely disgusted with Colin and thinks he is an idiot.

Roman Cleirigh (Dislike): Roman is known for selling drugs to supernaturals and some of them have made it into the hands of humans. When Robert worked in narcotics in the 1980s, he ran into a lot of problems with Roman and tried to take him down by the book. It failed and Robert was a target of the entire Cleirigh clan. Every now and again, Robert believes he’s being haunted or stalked.

Jim Montgomery (Dislike): Jim has no respect for boundaries and neither does the rats who work under him. Robert had heard that the rats have truces with the Jackal and Cat clans about work spaces and some homes. He tried to talk to Jim once in public and it ended with Robert’s car, clothes, and shoes being bugged.

Jaxson Idris (Dislike): Jaxson knows how to make Robert’s life hell and is the reason behind Robert’s constant changing or retiring of forms. He found the intrusive rat watching him and a lady friend in the shower once. Robert has a low tolerance for rat shifters or rats in general and always goes in for the kill.

Pets:

None

→ History (paragraph(s) on background)

→ The Present (paragraph(s) on how the character connects to the plot)

→ Available Gif Hunts (we do not own these)

Charlie Webber  [1][2][3]

Justin Theroux  [1]  

Alexander Skarsgård [1][2]  

Aly Michalka  [1][2]

[ironwoman18]

The Worst Third Date Ever final part.

Chapter 32: A Clean Sweep for Team Reid.

Mount Pleasant Women's Correctional Facility.

"Hello Dr. Reid, it's been a while since I saw you" said the prison guard as he and Max walked in.

"Hello Officer Grey, it's good to see you, of course I would prefer it could be in better conditions" the man nodded.

"I'm agree. Please put your weapon here and everything that could be use as one for the prisoners" Spencer does it "who is she?"

"My wife" said Spencer.

"Oh congratulations doc. I didn't know you got married"

"We just got married so it's still something new" he smiled and the couple walked thru the metal detector and the officer lead them to the room where Catherine Adams will die "officer I would like to talk to her before you take her to her execution"

"You sure? I know she did some bad things to you"

"Yes sir, I'm sure" the guard nodded.

"Ok, ma'am the room you must go is at the end of the aisle then turn to the left" he pointed where she had to go.

Max nodded and kissed Spencer before said "be careful, she will try to get under your skin one more time before she left this world"

He looked in her eyes and nodded "I know but you will be in my mind" he smiled and left with the guard as Max walked where the office said so.

Spencer took of his wedding ring for the first time in a month. He wanted Cat to know that he got married while the needle was under her skin.

The officer left him in an interrogation room. The feeling of being in a prison again was terrible but he knew he would never return there.

Some mini later the guards sat Catherine in front of him "Spencie you came!" She said in an exciting tone and he rolled his eyes "you're one of the few men who fullfil their promises"

"Yeah, after everything we had been thru, it's the less I could do" he said with his poker face on "sadly I can't be the one who do the honor of stick that needle in your arm"

"Don't be mean Spencie, I know you will miss our little games" she said in a little girl tone "it's a shame... Maxie didn't end up here, huh? I guess you didn't send her to prison" he clenched his fist and Cat did a noise with her tongue "Spencie, a good FBI agent never pick sides" she smirked.

"I'm not here to talk about Max, I'm here to make sure they say you are gone for good and won't ruin another relationship I might have"

"I will be always in your mind Spencie, as you told me skating" she winked at him as some officer walked in to get her ready for the execution "bye bye Spencie... I had fun with you" she left smirking, thinking their score was 2-1, she lost against him twice in her mind but at the end she felt like she took away his chance to date someone.

Spencer took a deep breath, relaxing his muscles, he felt tense with her, he put back on his wedding ring and kissed it gently like if he was remembering that everything was fine and Max was his forever.

He stood up and walked back to Max. When he arrived she was there with some other members of the team. They wanted to see Cat finally gone for good.

Spencer walked straight to her and kissed her, it was needed, like he was a dying man and her lips were the water he needed to survive.

After it Max asked against his lips "How was it?"

"As annoying as you can imagine" he rubbed her cheeks gently and then they sat with their friends.

Spencer held Max's hand when the officers walked in with Catherine Adams and a priest to gave her some final words to see if she will change.

Max was annoyed to see her again but she decided to go there and witness her dead and to rub on her face that she outsmarted her.

After some words from the priest the execution started. An officer put the tourniquet around her arm, the doctor cleaned the area with a cotton with alcohol and then stick the needle after finding a vein.

They released the tourniquet and Max decided to make her move. She stood up and walked to be in front of the window. Cat's eyes showed the surprise of seeing her there.

Max put her wedding picture with Spencer against the glass with one hand and with the other a message.

"3-0. Perfect score, bitch. The Reid Family"

Cat's eyes were full of hatred and anger that everyone thought the killing liquid flowed faster.

"NOOOO.... I WON... YOU KILLED YOUR BOYFRIEND!!!" Cat screamed out at her.

Max smirked and shook her head. Cat's eyes realized what happened months ago and her face calmed down. You could read in her face that, a woman, a sister in this men's world betrayed her.

Then after several minutes Catherine Adams was declare dead. Spencer and the team hugged with Max. Finally the most dangerous hit woman they ever faced was dead.

After that Spencer felt like he could finally rest, he will stop looking his surrounding because everyone could be working for Cat, he was free and not only him but his wife and their children.

Some weeks later, they have an appointment to know the gender of their babies. They were excited about this. Max already ordered to paint the room. They painted it white and she decided to paint something on the wall.

If they have a boy and a girl, she will paint a train on a wall and a beautiful princess with some flowers on the other wall.

The doctor checked her blood pressure, weight and ran some blood test then they were to the ultrasound room where the doctor checked the babies.

"Ok Max and Spencer. I confirm that you will have twins. I can see them now. And I can tell you the gender of your babies. Do you want to know?" She asked. The couple nodded "ok, baby number one is a boy!" The couple had some tears of joy "and baby number two is a girl!" More tears of joy "congratulations, I will print the result for you. Do you want some copies" the nodded "ok I will get you some of them. You can clean the gel and walked back to my office" the doctor stood up leaving the couple alone.

"I still can't believe we will be parents" said Spencer helping Max sat down and kissed her forehead hugging her.

"Me neither but we are and it's the best feeling ever" she hugged him tight.

The rest of her pregnancy was calm. Her students cried the final day of classes and they gave her some toys they don't use for her kids, something they planned with their teachers.

Her co-workers at the school organized an early baby shower and each gave her a little present for the kids and for her. Max was hormonal all day and cried a lot.

She was thankful for that job and will miss them. They all hug and Spencer picked her up.

They decided to sell Spencer's old car and with that money and some more they saved, buy a bigger and more modern one for the babies.

As promised, Penelope hosted the official baby shower with all the BAU people and Max's family.

Dave and his wife gave them the cribs, one blue and the other pink; the Simmons gave them two baby bags and a first edition copy, signed by all of them plus David, of the "Simmons' Stories for Children"; Luke, Tara and Penelope joined to give them a set of feeding bottle with the engraving "genius babies" on each, three pink and three blue.

Derek and Savannah gave them Hank's first car seat and bought one for the extra baby; Max's family gave them a double baby stroller; Diana promised them some days ago knitted blankets for her grandchildren; Jack and Aaron gave them his collection of favorite books.

"My mom used to read me those" he said with some tears in his eyes "please read it to them" they nodded with tears in their eyes too.

JJ and her family gave them two changing tables for the kids. Ashley, the new team member, gave them some onesies, with different designs that matched Spencer and Max's personalities.

Last but not least, Emily and Andree gave them a rocking chair, Emily told them it was her mother's favorite when she was a child and she wanted to give to her BAU little brother. Spencer hugged her tight with tears in his eyes.

After that, the men helped Spencer moved everything to the babies rooms. The following week Max asked Penelope, her sisters and JJ to help her paint the train and princess with the flowers.

Spencer was teaching that day, they were having a good time with music and some ice tea. It was the third week of November and the babies were expected that week.

When they finished they decided to go to the living room and talk some more when Max showed a painful face. The women panicked but them JJ and Michelle recognized it... "My/Her water just broke" the three women said at the same time.

"Ok Max breath" said JJ with her 'unsub with a gun pointing at her' voice "Penelope go upstairs to get her bag with clothes and Eloise turn on the car" both women nodded and ran to do what she ordered "let's go Michelle, help me" they walked with Max, who was struggling to keep calm and breathing, to the car.

Penelope ran downstairs with the bag and she was calling Spencer but his phone was turned off.

"Damn it... Boy wonder must be in class" she said as they got in the car.

"It's ok. Leave him a message and he will go to the hospital" said JJ as she started to drive.

She drove fast to the hospital. Meanwhile Penelope sent a text to the team 'Houston we have a baby delivery x2' and hit sent.

They arrived to the hospital and immediately took Max to a room where she asked for her husband.

He arrived some minutes later. JJ decided to pick Diana up, her son was about to be a father, she needed to be there.

Michelle called her father to drive to the hospital with her son.

After some more hours waiting, Spencer finally walked out the delivery room with a big but tired smile.

"They are both perfectly fine. A handsome prince and a beautiful princess" he said and each of his friends and family hugged him "it's a small room so first my mom, Max's dad and sisters, JJ and Derek" they all nodded and follow Spencer.

In there were Max holding on of them, and the other was held by a nurse.

The nurse handed the baby to him "hi everyone" he said as if the baby talked "this is Jason Alexander Reid" the BAU members recognized the name of their former friend and co-founder of the unit and Max's family recognized the name of their uncle/ brother.

Spencer passed him to his mother, then Max said "and this is Rachel..." She held a sobb saying her mom's name, and so did her sisters and father "...Diana Reid, mommy's princess" she handed her to her father.

The two babies were sleeping and quiet, Diana had some tears in her eyes "I never thought I would see this day coming... My boy had two children and I couldn't be prouder" she kissed Spencer's cheek and then Jason's forehead.

She handed the boy to JJ and Don did the same to Michelle, each held the babies and left the room except JJ and Derek.

"JJ and Derek, you are like a brother and a sister to me and Max and I thought it could be fair to make you godparents of Jason and Rachel"

"Really?" Said JJ with tears, she held Jason in her arms and whispered "maybe I can call Caltech or Yale but I'm sure will take you to the zoo" she laughed and kissed her new godson and did the same with Rachel.

"Thank you little brother and I promise to spoil them with lot of sports" he laughed and hugged him.

Then the rest of the people walked in to meet the babies. Dave even cried when Spencer said the name of his son. He know Gideon would be proud of his boy.

"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another." — Thomas Merton.

Fin?

OOooOOooOO

The final chapter! What a journey! Thank you for reading, thank you for commented it, thank you for recommending it. I enjoyed this experience, my first long story in a long time and in English!

I learned so much and made some friends with this. Hope you all read my new story Double Dates (mostly Garvez but with some other couples)

Again, thank you, gracias, danke! To @nerys2 @andiebeaword @dreatine @aperrywilliams @moviequeen51

[killergirlfuria]

Here there be a fic, birthed by my anger and sheer indignation at Beemov’s newest cash grab (1,200$ for a game of, if looked at through the lens of the price, really lacking quality) featuring power imbalance, emotional manipulation, and threats of bodily harm and death all aimed at the poot wallflower MC who can do nothing but take it as six vampires illegally squat at her house and don’t give jack shit about common decency.

Ergo, I pour all my salt into this found family fic with, hopefully, a much more plausible setting for potential situation.

Vampire Daycare: Summary

After long last, Eloise has decided to return to her family home, a manor in the woods that she inherited from her long-since-deceased parents. However, what was meant to be a slow vacation and research in the place full of childhood memories jumped straight out of the window, when Eloise came face to face with six men who have been illegally squatting on her property for what seems like years.

Eloise would have thrown them out, absolutely. Any normal person would. But then, her old teacher came around, all smug and secretive, and offered the squatters a deal; their rent will be paid off, all of backlog and year into the future both. For a favor, of course.

And now Eloise is stuck running a kindergarten for six vampires high on power, with the only other remotely intelligent person in the household outside of her being her pet goat.

Wonderful.

Warning: This fic has not been proofread.

Prologue

Eloise Kerrigan returns to her childhood home to find it already populated, without her knowledge, and without her consent.

She is not amused.

(She’s also a miser with a moral compass, and that saves six lives.)

~(0)~

The air was crisp and fresh as Eloise walked through the forest, relishing in the calmness of forest after dark. She has arrived in the town earlier that day and, after a brief bout of tourism, turned towards her destination—the Kerrigan Estate. She grew up in that place, and despite the fact that she took a long sabbatical shortly after her parents death and hasn’t visited it once, she yearned to return to her childhood home. She didn’t worry about the dilapidation, there were measures set in place to prevent that.

She enjoyed the cold autumn evening in the forest that many would find creepy, surrounded by whispering of the wind and an odd hoot from an owl. It was tranquil, natural, and relaxing. The leaves, crisp with cold, crunched under her boots, and her knitted woolen scarf protected her easily from an odd bout of wind between the trees.

Odd as it would seem for a bystander, she didn’t have any luggage with her, save for a small handbag. Eloise didn’t find it odd at all, and there were no bystanders in the forest.

She took a deep breath as the trees began to thin, heralding a clearing upon which she knew Kerrigan Estate was built hundreds of years ago my her many-times-great-grandparents. He played in these woods a lot as a child, and they hadn’t changed much, despite the time that has passed. Whether it was the nature of the house itself or the respect the nature had for the house, she wasn’t sure, but didn’t complain.

Last few steps, last few turns-

There it was, in all its Victorian glory, overgrown with ivy, a house exactly like the one in child-Eloise’s memories. She almost choked.

God, it was so long.

She sighed, hastening her steps, to make it there quicker, up the familiar narrow pavement, up the loose cobblestone stairs, through the squeaking black gate that nobody has ever bothered to oil properly as long as it stood, forward between father’s brown roses, through the oaken with a worn-out, brass wolf knocker—

Eloise stopped the second she stepped inside. She closed her eyes, took a breath, instantly on alert, searching for—something.

Something was wrong. She knew this house intimately, could almost hear it speak to her, and something was wrong—

Oh. There, Eloise, in the library, a presence, and another, upstairs, and then in the attic, and—

She reached her senses out farther and farther into the bowels of the house, past the hidden trapdoor child-Eloise wasn’t allowed down, searching for the wardstone she knew was there, she knew should have been there—only to find it missing. An oddest thing, because the only time she’s ever been allowed down that trapdoor was with her mother to calibrate and place the stone. She saw it placed, helped place it, and now it was gone.

And the only other person allowed to enter the Manor was her teacher, who was also a smug bitch with agenda nobody understood. Which explained everything, Eloise supposed, because if there was someone that was an asshole enough to let strays invade Eloise’s ancestral home, it was without a doubt Baba.

There was a murmur of a presence on the ground floor with her, and in the library, and upstairs, and more. She counted six, thrumming in a very distinctly not-human way. Wonderful. She pushes that problem into the back of her mind—it can wait a few minutes. Instead, she turns to the stairs and up, fourth step sings under her feet, and she can’t help but step on it again giddily, seventh croaks and she winces, because she always forgot that one.

The rooms were exactly where she remembered them being, in the exact same floor plan she could navigate with closed eyes as a child. It’s been years, but maybe she could still. The doors, she was pleased to find, were the same beveled and sculpted oaken slabs. The rooms behind them, however, Eloise wasn’t certain of. For now, she’d have to hope that the vermin currently infesting her house has not damaged her ancestral home—the whole building was an antique in a way, and restoration would be a pain.

It was her grandmama’s legacy after all, dating all the way back to early 1800s. If something was changed, Eloise could just rally antique conservationists and they would, in their righteous rage, fix everything right back up.

But that’s neither here nor there. Yet.

If the old journals of her parents—particularly her father’s research notes, because those weren’t put in the basement—were lost, Eloise would be particularly unhappy, however. What she remembered of her father painted him as an alchemical genius, and everyone always told her she inherited his talents. Now that she learned all she could on her own, his notes would aid her greatly.

As Eloise calmly strolled through the hallway, a shiver ran down her spine.

Ah, it would seem they crawled out.

Eloise headed downstairs, slowly, down the creaking step and the singing step, until she reached the main hall. Sure enough, a man was there, tall, with a mane of wavy dark-purple hair, and wearing nothing but a white pajama.

Oi, oi, ain’t ye gettin’ a wee bit fookin’ cozy in me house?

“Hey, who are you?” he asks, and Eloise blinks at the audacity of him. He disregards her, though, calling out; “Vladimir, some chick’s walking down the main staircase!”

Eloise could feel the vein pop throughout the entire length of the right side of her neck and cheek. Don’t blow them up, she thought to herself over and over again, it’s not worth it.

Another one comes out of where Eloise is fairly certain she remembers library being, this time in golden out-of-date smock and an blindfold across his eyes.

“You could show a bit of respect!” he scolds the pajama-clad asshole, and Eloise silently thanks the heavens that at least one of them seems to have some working braincells that did not undergo necrosis. “I can understand why she’s hiding. You must have scared her. Please don’t run off, young lady…”

Or not.

A'm standin richt fookin ‘ere ye arsehole.

Ah, slipping into thick Scottish now, as always, with anger. She didn’t doubt that if she started speaking now, she’d also use proper Scottish slang that she could bet money the quasi-immortal bloodsuckers would have trouble understanding.

Oh, papa, papa, why did you teach me to cuss in Scots.

Eloise gently massages her temples with one hand, supporting herself with the other on the railing, letting the vampires bicker. Another one emerges, this time a willowy-looking blonde in Victorian suit. This must be Vladimir, Eloise concludes, from how he scolds the pajama-clad moron, who she learns is named Beliath. She lets them bicker—not the first time someone wandered into the manor and isn’t that the red flag—as they seem to completely ignore her. Eloise lets them, more interested in listening to the bloodsuckers literally infesting her mansion before kicking them out.

Because she was going to. Current residents or not, they’re illegal squatters and she doubts they’re even registered with the local Committee branch, which is an absolute must with Class A Dangerous Creatures living this close to a populated town. Eloise hopes she can do away without actually killing them, too—which she should do, if they’re unregistered, despite her strong dislike of destroying creatures with cognitive ability.

However limited said cognitive capability wouldn’t appear to be.

And then Vladimir calls her an intruder, and Eloise barks out a sharp bout of laughter, loud enough to return their attention to her.

“Funny, how things are,” she says, voice amused but with an edge to it, “that you’d have a gall to call me an intruder.”

“Pardon?” the blonde—Vladimir, but should she even bother remembering?—asks.

“Let’s start with introductions then, shall we? I’ll even go first—my name is Eloise Kerrigan, your landlord, apparently, though not by my choice nor with my prior knowledge, and I’d like to know one thing; where the fuck is my money, you useless squatters?”

They look at her dumbly for a moment, while Eloise just stands there, arms crossed on her chest and her best ‘I’m better than you and disappointed’ face on. The pajama-clad moron snorts, and moves to speak, but she cuts him off before he even can.

“Now, I don’t quite need you to introduce yourselves. I won’t even remember your names, I’d assume. After all, you’re all going upstairs now to pack your things and leave, no?”

“Uhhh… No?” the pajama-clad moron says with amusement shining in his eyes. Eloise looks at him, very unamused herself.

“In case you’re even less adapt at thinking than you make it seem, that wasn’t a question,” she says, not bothering to stop an eyeroll. “Now, how many of you are here?”

“Six,” the willowy blonde answers, as if expecting that to somewhat scare her. “Also, you can’t just come in here and tell us to pack out bags, we live here-“

Eloise snaps her fingers instead of answering and, in a flash of flame an outdated-looking scroll appears, and unfurls showcasing a Title Deed, complete with a wax seal and signatures of all previous owners—all Kerrigans before Eloise—and everything else. The thing thrums with magic.

The one in the blindfold must have sensed it, because he gasps.

“You’re a witch,” he says.

“I am. And you are Class A’s trespassing on a Witch’s Dwelling, of which the Title Deed I have just pulled out,” she answers. “Do you know what that means?”

“Raphael?” pajama-clad moron asks, as the willowy blonde frowns.

“It- It means that, even if we were Registered, she has every right to kill us on the spot,” the blindfolded one answers with a grimace.

“And you’re not registered?” she presses on, and he fidgets.

“No,” is the answer that eventually comes, and Eloise wants to bang her head on the wall.

“What the hell?” someone asks from the stairs, and Eloise turns to see a pale, asshole-looking Jack Frost knockoff, followed by a tall, tanned man who looks like he has more sense than just two braincells rubbing off of one another. “What Title Deed? Registered to what? Who are you?”

“Eloise Kerrigan, owner of the house,” she answers flatly. “And you’re unregistered Vampires trespassing a Witch’s Dwelling. In the eyes of law, it’s double death sentence.”

“What the fuck? Nobody ever told me that!” the pale asshole argues.

“It’s the duty of the one who turned you, and not my problem,” Eloise shrugs. “It’s been in effect since Dracula’s uprising in late fourteen-hundreds!”

The tall, tanned man winces. “I think I’m actually registered,” he says carefully. “But I haven’t been in the Office for years now, so-“

“So you didn’t turn in a Plea of Renewal. I suppose you didn’t think to inform them of your change of whereabouts either?”

“We didn’t exactly have a landlord,” he says with a wince. “And none of us owns the house.”

“So you preferred to let your Registration expire and trespass in peace?”

He turns his head away, and it’s answer enough. It would have been very comfortable, indeed, if any and all owners of the house were dead or didn’t claim the property, and even if they did, the vampires probably thought they could easily deal with a human owner.

Only two of them seemed to know what the punishment for trespassing a Witch’s Dwelling—especially one so saturated with magic and tradition, not to mention built on a intersection of ley lines—even was in the first place, and the rest seemed blissfully unaware, or blissfully ignorant, of seemingly all the laws that, despite their ignorance, still dictated whether they were allowed to live or set for extermination.

After Dracula’s Uprising in late 1400s, vampires were put under high scrutiny, and for a good reason. Nobody liked crazy and powerful magical creatures attempting to seize control over the whole world in order to turn it into a feeding ground.

Therefore, Draculean Laws were put in place to vampires’ chagrin and relief of all other occult races, and that was that.

“We had no idea we were trespassing a Witch’s Dwelling,” the blindfolded one says softly and apologetically. The willowy blonde glances at him in surprise, and then turns to Eloise.

“Look, I don’t care for the so-called laws I’ve never heard of-“

“Vladimir!” the tanned one snaps, and the blonde shuts up. “There is much more to the world we live in than you possibly imagine, or care to learn! Just because you all are content to live in a bubble of unawareness, doesn’t mean we’re all ignorant to the laws! We’ve grown complacent, yes, and it’s probably my fault—I should have dragged you all to be registered, even if it would have turned out we were trespassing a place like that. But no, I was content to just live somewhere not far from a city, and—God. There’s just so many laws—I can’t believe I—just how many laws have we broken in our complacent idiocy?” he asks, horrified.

“How do you feed?” Eloise questions.

“I don’t know how that’s even important!” pajama-clad moron rears his ugly head again. “Is nobody going to acknowledge that she knows who we are?”

“Beliath, shut up!” the blindfolded one snaps, more out of panic than actual irritation. “You’re one of the oldest here, you should know what she’s talking about!”

“We bite people and then make them forget,” the tanned one answers her anyway. “We don’t kill, though. We make sure we don’t. We wipe their memories after.”

“So you attack people all willy-nilly and then use internationally banned mind magic to be rid of the evidence?!” Eloise snarls, and he turns his head in shame as her hackles rise up. “Feeding on people without killing them, that you could spin in your favor and get scoot-free off of, but mind magic? Nobody is allowed to use mind magic without a really damn good reason, not just you, you special, fucking, bloodsucking snowflakes! It’s not even Draculean Laws you broke with it, it’s the International Statutory Law!”

By gods, Eloise wanted to rip her hair straight out of her scalp. The ignorance of these bloodsuckers, while blissful up until now to them, was causing a potential mess of incredibly epic proportions. Draculean Laws were one thing, Trespassing of her house was another, she could, maybe, let go of those, but—breaking of International Laws? As a repeated offense?

Could she even, in her right mind, kick them out now? Let them go, and not kill them outright? Or at least bring them to the Office, even if it would have meant even more certain death than by her hands?

She just wanted to curl up and cry, honestly.

Gods fucking damn her bleeding heart and unwillingness to kill, but may it never be mistaken for inability. She wasn’t necessarily unwilling to kill either—just so very tired of it.

“Look, lady, we don’t even know these laws!” the pale asshole argues, and Eloise smothers an urge to throw a lamp at him.

“Ignorantia legis neminem excusat, boy,” is all she has to say in return. “You must have came in here good few years after I went to the Academy, otherwise the residual presence would have kicked the magic into high gear and obliterated you on the spot, since you were uninvited. And since you were able to find this place to begin with, someone must have taken the wards down, and there’s only one person who actually can do that outside of me—what the fuck are you plotting, auntie?” Eloise hisses, looking skyward as if for answers, but all she sees is the tiled Victorian ceiling.

~ k̽́̅́͡i̋̊̒̀͞l̑̂̕l̃̓͠ t̛̒́h͑̔̀͝e̽̃͞m҇̒̽ ~ William hisses straight into her cerebrum, and Eloise closes her eyes, listening to the demonic yet soothing voice of her familiar. ~k̽́̅́͡i̋̊̒̀͞l̑̂̕l̃̓͠ t̛̒́h͑̔̀͝e̽̃͞m҇̒̽ a̒͛͗̂̿͞l҇͛͊͌l̛̈́̈͊͌͐,̓̅̒̊̒͞ ẗ͗̋̆̈́͝h͊̄̂͡è̄̚͠ỳ͐̈́͠ d͊͋͛̚͡e͂̒͛͞ṥ̔̽̕e̓́͛̕ȑ͛͞v̛̅̔e͊͊͌̎̇̕ ì̍͞t҇͒͂̏ â̿̓̕n͐͂̆̀̐͞d̛̽̂̒̐̚ ẏ̏̋͠o͌̈́̈́͡u̓͒̄͠ s҇̈̆͊̈́̚h͛͆̏͋͝o̾͊͞u͌͒̓̀̑͠l͛̑͞d̒̚͡ñ̇̏͠'͛̎̆̔̽͞t̀̿̄̾̔̕ b̈́̄̔̐͡e̎̋̑̕ ḋ̿̎͠ẽ̈́͞a͊̈̏̚͝l̈́̐̒͝i̒̓̒͡n̍͂͂̒͒͝g̊̅͛̾͡ w͛́͆͂͠ǐ̛̋̔t̛̃͋́̀h̀̂͛̆͊͡ t̾̚͡h҇͊̐̚i͑̿͡s͂̇̐̆͠ m͐͌̌͠e̿̔̑͒̂͞ś͒͗̀͗͝s̛͒͆̎̈

~I really should, shouldn’t I?~ she sends back, and gets a humming agreement as her only response.

~t̛͌̅̅͊h҇̓̀̐̀͊e̒̽̽́̏͞ý͊͒͛̕ r҇̆̆̎̀ë́͛͌̈͋͞ḕ̎̕k̛̿̉̉ ỏ̄̀͑͠f͆̎͠ ď̓̕ë́̓̑́͛͡a҇͋̃͗̓̔ṫ̽̒͞h̔̀͞,҇͐̈́̏̊ Ì́͗̐̂͝ d́͐̕ò͐́͋̑͡n̂̒̅̚͠'͑̈̀͊̏͡t̍͊͞ d͆̊̐̌͠ȍ͐͡u͊̅̕b̈́̊̀͠t͊̒̂͡ t̛̽̋̚h̓̅̒͠ē͗͠ẙ͋͐͡ k̒̒͑̕i̎̀͛́͞l̛͗̍̉l̛͗͛̐ĕ̊̀͡d̛̃̓̄̓ b̍͌̅͂͡e̍̕̚f҇́̇͌̎͐ơ̈̓̀̚ȓ̄̄͡e҇̀̂́̔,̉͐͡ ả͒̂̚͞n͆͒̈́̌̓͠d̓̓̕ k̛̂̋͑̄i҇̀̅l̈́̀͋͞l͑̃͞e̒̍͞d̋̅̊͊̉̕ m̈́̒͠a̛̎̅̿̓n̛̎͗͐y҇̄̔.̈́͐͐̕ d͂̾̕ȏ̽̐̈́̓͞ w҇̾͆ơ͐́̈́͑͛r̅͐̇̚͠l͌̔̋̃̕d͆̈̊͡ á̽̆̚͞ f҇͂́̈́a̒̀̀͡v͑̾̑̉͡o҇̆̆̓r̅͂̃̒̈͠,̀̇̀͞ M҇͗̃͛͐̃i̿͒͑͊̑͝s̈͐͑̐̕t̾̔͑͆̕r҇̉̉e̓͌̉̾͆͡š̈́͞s҇̍̂͋̋-̃̅͋̍͞-̓̎͛͠d̛́̋̇́̆ớ́ y҇̎̀o͑͆̓͞ǔ̃̏̃͠r̓̀̒͋͞s̃̓́̾͞ȇ̍͛̕l͆̋͡f͒͑̍̏̃͡ a̛̾̔̔͊̀ f̒̑̇͠a̋̉͊͑͝v̋́̀̋͡o̔̌́̕r̐̂͝.̾̋́́̏͠ I̛͗̔̽͗ s̄̄̒́̄͝h̐͂̀͝ä́̿̒́͝l҇̃̅̚l̓͋͝ d҇̇́̓e̛͒͐̽̈͂v҇̂̇̈̀̚ō̌͡u҇̔̏̇r̆̽̄͒͂͡ t̔̈́͞h̿̈̾̄̕e҇̀̐i̛̍̄͐r̈́̅͒̈́͠ b҇̑̒̌̏̚o҇̎̎͑d̏̂͑͞i̛̊͑͑̉̎e҇͌̊s̾̎̽͝ a҇͗̏̀̒n̂̀͊́͠ď̛̀̃ w͑̑͠e͌̽͊̓̕ w̆̂̓́͡i͊͑̂̿͌͠l̎̿͗͂͒͞l҇̈́̌ f̈͋͆̾͞o̓͌͛̒͞r̽̑͋͠g̑̏͛̒͞e̿̉̽͑͞t̔͆̔͞ o҇͂͆́f́̌̒́͡ t̉̀̐̉͆͝h̛̀̀͒i҇̾̇͗s̃͐̃̄̎͞ i̒͐̑́̽͠n̛͑̀̈́c̈̄̾̏͊͞î́̐͝d̛͋̑̆̓e̾̇̀͡n҇̎̑̍͂t̛̏̀͊͐

~But if it really is Baba Yaga who’s behind this? She’s literally the only person alive I don’t want to piss off. She had to have a reason to let vampires infest our ancestral home, no?~ Eloise asks hopefully, more the world than William.

~B̀͋̈͝ä̛́͒b̛̌́̔͋a͂̉͛̆͝ Ỳ͑͌͡a̾͋̒͠g̽̈́͂̿͡ä̾͋̒͡ w̛̍̒̏̅i͑̆̀͋̚͠l̈́͆͠l̍̈͡ b̏͆̾͝e͂̿̒̕ ȁ̛͐͋m̛̃͊͗u͐̊͌͠s̛̅̌̾e̐̀̆͠d̄̓̐̇̽̕ a͑̾̾͡t҇̿͋ w͛̇̌͞ó̊̑́̕r̓̓̾̊̈́͞s̓̆̌͡t̛͐̑.͐̏̆͠ Ẏ̾͋̓̐͝o̾̄͂͡ú̎̓͞ k̊̓̇̅͡n̽̆̀̂̆͡o҇͗͊̓w̛̆̄́ h̽̎̀͡o̊̃̅͝w͑̂͝ s͂̈́͡h̛͆͊̂̋̉è̛͋ i͗̆̐͛̆̕s҇͋̏,̄̐̒͝ a̛͗̔̓̍̇l̛̄̓̌̔̌l̾͂̚͞ s̛͑͑́m҇͆́ȕ͂̾͞g҇͋̅͋ ȃ́͞ń͋͆̕d̽̃̕ m̄͒͞i͛̄͠g҇͌̎̂͗h̛̊͑͌̐̚t̔̒̆͡y̛͌͑̔̃͌,̆̏̽̕̚̚ a͊̉͡l҇̄̿̌̂̽w̆̇̏̈̚͠à̉̃̊͋̕ỳ̛̊̆̍s̛̆̋̓̈́.̑̿͝ s҇̀͐͗̆̽h̛̉̀̇e̛̓̿ r҇̊̈́͒e҇͐̈̆e̛͗̓̚ḱ̛͆͊s̔̊̚͝ ō̾͡f̎̅̃͞ p̈̑̈͠o͛͆̈̎̅͝w҇̀͛̅͂e̋̓̽̏̅͝r̓̌͞,̓̾͂͝ b́̋̓̀̉͠u҇̔͗̑̊͑t̓͋̓͞ s͒͗͆̎͂͡h̃͌̑͠e͐͗͠ h͊͑͊͝a̋̍̒̽̕r̛̽̂d̆͛̓͝l̽̌͑͞y͂̔̀͠ í̊͒͞ǹ̓͠t́̆̎̑̕̚e҇̀͌̉r҇͌̏f̊͛̓̓͡e̛͊̔̚r̛̈́̆̑e҇͑̚s͂̀̏͐͐͝ n̾̈̚͝ơ̌̉̄̌̿w͆̈̓̎͌͞a̓͊̊̅͡d͗̓͡a҇̑̂͒ŷ̛̾͑ś͌̍͡~ William says, shooting down Eloise’s attempts to still, despite all evidence to the contrary, weasel out of killing the vampires. Then, after a brief moment, he adds: ~Î͗͝ m̎̂͊͋́͝y̛̒̽͆͊̋s̽̐̈͝e͌͑͌̑̄͡l̛̿́f̛͗̍̇̈ t̛̐̐ĥ̇̋͋͋͞i̎͂͗͡n͑̂͌̕k̛̃̋͑̚ s͐̌͞h҇͛͆̑ë́̂̔͞ i͗̍̾̔͡s̛̎͑͋̚ g҇͆̉r̓̊̄̚̚͡o҇̉́̈́̀w̉͐͛̀̋͠i҇̆̎̇͆n͑̌̆̕ǧ̛̾̽̂ s̾͛͊͠e͐͂͒̍̌̕n̾̅͆̕i̅͊͡l̄̔̿̅̽͞e̛̐̀̄̏̀ i͒̏̋͡n̑̀̒͞ h̀̾̀͂͞è̌̉̐̈͠r̔̉̂̀̂͠ o̅̈́̓͂̚͡l̿̈́͠d҇̌̌͌ à̛͗̽͗g҇́̍͐e͋̓͝

Eloise can’t help a snort at that offhand comment. There are, after all, very few people who have guts to actually call Baba Yaga out on how they see her, and Eloise usually isn’t one of them, maybe due to power difference, or maybe due to familial connection. Her familiar, however, has no such qualms.

“What’s so funny?” the pale asshole asks from where the tanned guy was quickly bringing them up to speed on all the laws they have broken and any and all punishments potentially awaiting them.

“Nothing, just the voices in my head,” Eloise answers. “They’re the only intelligent conversation partner in this house, after all.”

William snorts.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just get rid of her!” the pajama-clad moron asks in agitation, and both the blindfolded one and the tanned one look like they want to rip his head off.

“Oh, I don’t know?” Eloise asks. “Maybe because I’m rather well-known in my circles, and it would raise many eyebrows should I disappear? Because all my friends and superiors know exactly where I had gone? Because I’m to call some of them soon, or else I have been threatened with a surprise visit before I can settle down? The list goes on, and none of the option ends well for you.”

“Oh quit the big-talk!” the moron snaps, and makes a move to throw himself at her, despite the tanned one’s warning shout—

William bursts from Eloise’s shadow in a flash of hell-red flames and impales the vampire on his wicked horns. He misses all the vital spots, merely skewering him through the shoulder-blades, muscle, tendon and bone, but it drives the message home, seeing as the rest rear back in shock at the sight of the half-demonic, half-undead goat with four wicked horns.

“And there’s also William,” Eloise says in amusement as the moron winces and all but hangs on the Bakhrahell’s horns in attempt to not to agitate the wound too much, the blood seeping into his white shirt and slowly trickling down William’s upper horns.

“What is this thing?!” the pale asshole shrieks, backing up the stairs, as if it would help him if the Bakhrahell decided to go against him next. The other three tense and also back up.

“This is William, my familiar,” Eloise explains calmly. “I apologize for not being a typical witch with a cat, but demonic battle-goat suits me more.”

“y̛͌̀̉ṑ̑̏͡ũ̾̚͞ w̓̈͒̀̈́͠i͋̾̏̉͝l҇̌͌l҇̉̈̈̚ n̑̌̋̇̉͡o͐̀̽́͡t͐͌̈̄͝ h̑̽͋̐̏͠ä̛́͐͌r͐̅͞m̃̔͝ M̓͊͛́͝i̛̋͒̂̚s̈́̿̏͡t̉̐͞r͛̑͐͞e͐͆̚͞ṡ̊͡ṡ͌̈́̓͞,̀́̀͡ v͂̓͝e͒̀̓͂̚͞r͌̃̄̄̚͞m͊̂̉̋̕ĭ̋͆̑̕ń̀̏͛̈́͝,” William snarls in synthetically echoing, demonic voice, before lurching forward and knocking the moron back, and sliding his horns out of vampire’s shoulders. He gives the remaining vampires a very unimpressed look. “f҇͂̉͐́̐ơ̎͂͒r͂̓͗̾̓̕ t͗̀͒̒̕h̔̊͡é̒̔́͠ r҇̈̊̑͒ë́̌̃̋̽͠c͐̽̇̀͠o͌̄̿͊͞r҇̈̇̍̍d҇̃̊̈́,̆͛̔͠ I͋́̈̀͝'̈͆͂̕m̊́̐̄͌͠ v̒̿̓͆̊͠ë́̂̓̕ṙ͒̕ẙ͂͞ m̄̀̀͝ú̃̐̿͑͠c҇͛̇͛̈́h҇͊̈͆ i̇̏̀̅͞ň̎͋̕ f͒́͌͡a͒͆̅̑̚͝v͌̒͗̇̕o҇͒̄r͗̐͝ o͒̿͡f҇̃͆ k҇͒͂̃͂̐ì͛͠l̀͐͝l͐͂͠i͆̽͠n͒͐̀̎̀͞g͑̿͡ a͆̅͞l̛̽̍̃l̀̄͠ o҇̐̅̈̍f͊͒͊̑̕̚ ỷ̍̎̎͆͞o͌͑̐͂̚͠u̔̒̾̓͝.҇̏̈́̅ Ĭ̃͋͞ h҇̾͂̿a͋̿͛͡v҇͊̓͗̄ë́̿̏̔͠n̛̂͋̍'̛̄͑͂t̽̎̉̚͞ e̛̾̓ȃ̋̆̿͂͡ẗ́̽̄̓͛͞e҇͒̃̔n̒̿̎̄͠ à͒͞ v͒̂͝a̓̊̕m̽̽̌͠p͌̾͆̓̀͡i͗̈̅͝r̅̌͋͞ē̒̎͠ i̛̓̋̏̒̊n̔̊̏͐͞ q̅̓͒̕ŭ̀̈̒́͞i҇͗̋̀ť̆̄́͡e҇̈̓̓̉ s̍͑̀̐͠ȯ̌͌͞m̏͒͐̓͞ě̃͡ t҇̆͑ī̛̉̈́̔̾m̛̐͐̇̍e̊͐̄͒̐͠,̐́̏͞ a͊͌̂̓͞f̌̒̄̊̏͞t҇̓͋è͋̍͠ř̛̂̐ à̋̏͝ĺ͑̓͛͞ĺ̓͛̕,҇̃̐ ả͑͐̉͠n̋͐̊̕d̛͗̃̂̈̄ t̿́̎̅̚͡h̿̑͠e̎͒̈́͌̏͠ ơ̈́̄̒n͛̑̏̆̕l̓͋͝ỳ̈́̑̔̿͝ t̎͒͂͝h̛̏́i̓̃̌͊͠n̓̒́͡g̀͐́͝ s̔̏͞t̅̎̃̒̚͞a҇̋́̂n̏͋̂̐͝d̀̿̎͞i̛̾̌̏͗ǹ̈́̿́̈̕ǵ͆͛̿̕ b̛̋̐ȇ͌̉̓̕t̐̚̚͡w̛̆̈́̀̒è̑͋͡ȅ̑̋̕n̔̏͡ m͐͂͂̕e̅̎͝ a̓̽̓̋͡n҇̀͂̽d̛͛̾̆̍̃ m̾̓͗́͝y̾́́͠ m͛̽̽̚͝e͌̀̕ȃ̛͆̓l̛̏̈́́͑̚ i̛̾͛̃͗s̓̂͆͑̓͡ M͑̋̈͡i̔̂͠s̛̈́́t́̉̏͠r̛͋͗ē̏̕s̀̓̎͡s̛͒̃̈̀'̾̈́̍́͞s̐̃̊͝ m̛̈͆o͗̈́͑͊͆͡r̾̔̚͝ȧ̈́̓̇̚͡l҇̋̽̇̓̉ c̓͗̍̚͞o͆̆̔̽͠m̛̓̀̐p̓̉͞a͋̆͋͠s̀͊͂͊͝s͊͋͞.̛͐́”

“William, you’re ruining the moment,” Eloise chides him gently. “If they know I’m actually on their side, they’ll get cocky.”

“Ḯ̊̈̕'҇̔͆m̊̈́̍͠ n҇̄̒ô̍̍̊͝t̀͗̓́̚͝ s҇̇́ó̃̕̚r̃̓͌̅͝r̀̀͠y҇͌͆͌̄̇.̋̄̀̉̅͝ t̏͛̂͠h̛̄͋e͒̑͐̊͞y̛̋͌̄ n̅̒͊̋͝é̛͆̅͌e͌̇̀̊̐͡d͊̐̉̓̕ t̛̂͊̉o͛̎͂̕ k̀̌͞n͌̏̏̀͆͝ơ̋̅̀̎w̛̒͛ t̐̾͠ĥ̔̍̃͡ë́͆̔̍̐͝i͒̓͡ŕ͛̿͝ ṕ̽́͠l҇̎̀a̓̆̕c̃̒́̂́͠é̈͠.̃͛͒͝”

Eloise pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Aight, listen up—where’s the last one?”

The blindfolded one purses his lips. “I’m—I’m not sure it’s a good idea to call him down.”

“Why not?”

“He’s—”

“He only got turned two months ago,” the pale asshole says with a shrug, but he’s still shaking a bit and looking at William with suspicion, with William glaring right back. “He’s not good at controlling himself.”

“There’s a fledgling in the house?” Eloise asks, blinking with disbelief. “And you’ve—you’ve just, like, what? Left him to his own devices? Without round-the-clock care? Next thing you’ll tell me is that you feed him so little he actually gets hungry and aggressive!”

“We can’t let him feed on people without killing them, so he is,” the blonde speaks up, looking at Eloise in challenge. She just blinks at him, mouth ajar in shock.

“You—You’re—You’re starving a fledgling?!” she shrieks, well and truly losing the grip on her anger for a moment. “You—Fledglings need nothing as much as they need a constant stream of fresh blood if they are to develop themselves and their power correctly, and you—you’re telling me, you’re not feeding him? Almost at all? And you expect it to go well?!”

“Don’t tell us how to care for a recently-turned vampire!” the blonde snaps, pacing towards her, William temporarily forgotten. “I think we’d know better than you!”

“And yet you prove you don’t!” Eloise snaps right back, also moving forward, before they meet in the middle of the room, face-to-face. Eloise, with her one hundred and eighty centimeters, is almost as tall as him, downplaying his attempt to loom over her.

“Who do you think you are?!” the blonde hisses, attempting to loom and intimidate. Eloise just glares at him with her unsettling, almost-white eyes. It takes a lot of mental control to not to combust his pretty face on the spot, so instead Eloise grabs him by the shoulders with nothing more but her magic, and abruptly drags him few steps back.

“The owner of this place, and the person who decides whether you live or die,” she snarls, as he tries to shake off the invisible hands still firmly holding him down, well away from Eloise’s personal space. “And you’re not making a good case for yourself, blondie. Now go upstairs, pack your bags, and OUT before I change my mind and kill you all!”

They all flinch at her tone, because Eloise can muster a rather powerful roar-like shout if need be, even if it makes her throat ache uncomfortably. But it’s authoritative, and Eloise was almost-attacked twice today already, and she’s starting to actually want to kill them.

Getting bloodstains out of the carpets and wooden floors, after all, was only difficult as saying an one-sentence chant and focusing a bit.

The pale asshole all but pounces upstairs when William takes few steps towards him, almost barreling into a sixth figure, a boy in a dark cape, standing at the top of the stairs. This must be the fledgling, Eloise decides.

“Aren’t we even given an option to stay?” the pajama-clad moron asks, wincing all the time at the holes in his shoulders. They’ll heal—maybe, not that Eloise cares—but that doesn’t mean it’s painless. He deserved it, though—things like these happen when you attack people.

“That’s right. Why can’t you just keep them?” a smug, disembodied voice sounds from the direction of the door, instantly putting everyone but Eloise and William on high alert. She, instead, merely turns around to face the materializing woman, because using the door is outdated and teleporting in is the thing nowadays, apparently. The woman is tall, pale, and bony, with creepy, almost-white eyes, and cascades of wavy, red hair.

Baba Yaga, the most potential reason for the vampires being in the Kerrigan Manor to begin with. Eloise suspected the woman would pop up sometime tonight to be her smug, powerful self and lord it over them all mere mortals, but her arriving so early put a wrench in Eloise’s plan of kicking the vampires out without having to kill them.

Instead of addressing any of these points, however, Eloise elects to tackle the point raised by Baba instead.

“Their backlog rent counts in literal hundreds of thousands in cash,” she says angrily. “And I’m under no illusion that they would never be able to pay it off, because I doubt any of them got an actual job, and I would never let them stay before that happened! Besides, two of these fuckers tried to attack me already, and I’m not sharing my roof with aggressive creatures!”

“Ah, so you’d instead allow them to get away, scoot-free, without paying you your thousands in cash, and with their lives?” Baba chuckles. “My, my, dear niece, how altruistic.”

“Don’t hold it against me that I’m tired of killing!” Eloise snaps at the woman. “Which… Admittedly, I am actually obliged to do… And you can report me if I don’t… Ah fuuuuck, what a mess. Fookin’ ‘ell. Ye haed tae come haur, hadn’t ye!”

“Careful dear, your Scottish is showing,” Baba says bemusedly.

“Dinnae care!” Eloise snaps, full Scottish accent just to be contrary. “Canae ye juist let me kick thaim oot an break soum laws by nae killin thaim?!”

“No, I can’t,” the woman answers, unbothered by the outburst and without a care for the six vampires, all ready to strike. “Eloise, consider it, and do so carefully. The second the word gets out, to anybody, if one of them tattles, and one of them will because it’s how life goes, they will be killed regardless, and you will face consequences for them not being killed by your hand.”

“An why dae ye care whit A dae an dinnae dae?” Eloise growls.

“For crying out loud, you stupid child, you’re my family, of course I care about you!” the woman snaps. “Just because I act like I do most of the time doesn’t mean I don’t!”

Eloise blinks at the outburst, leaning back a bit in surprise.

“That’s… Awfully sweet of you, Baba,” she says eventually, carefully, and Baba snorts. “Doesnae change the fact thon it's yer fault tae begin wi! Dinnae deny it, ye're the only ane wha coud ave done this!”

“Alright, hold up, what the hell is going on?” the moron grunts out painfully, pressing at his wounds. “Who on earth are you?”

“Baba Yaga,” Baba says smugly. “The most powerful witch in existence, among other things known for putting an end to Vlad Dracul during the Vampire Uprising, at your service.”

“Very humble,” Eloise mutters. “Baba is the only other person with access to the wards, so you being here is most likely her fault. What are you plotting, Baba?” she asks the woman.

“What if I told you I’d be willing to pay you all of the backlog rent of theirs, and additionally pay them off for the whole year in advance?” Baba asks, and it’s not something Eloise was expecting at all, but also exactly what she was expecting.  “You get the money, they get to stay, you can go register them tomorrow or someday soon, and nobody has to die.”

Eloise grits her teeth. The money is definitely enticing, but is it worth it to become a babysitter of six vampires?

“With coverage for any damages done to the house, including but not limited to unauthorized refurnishing, wear, and lack of proper care?” she asks before she can stop herself, because it’s money they’re talking, and Eloise is really bad saying no to a significant influx of cash.

“Yes. And I’ll throw in a little extra for the attack.”

Eloise grimaces, looking at Baba. “I’m selling their souls to you by proxy, aren’t I?”

A chorus of ‘what’s and ‘don’t you dare’s resounds through the room, and Baba chuckles in a very telling way.

“And what of their registration? Their crimes?” Eloise presses. Baba just smiles, and pulls an envelope out of nowhere, handing it to the younger witch. “You really thought of everything, huh.”

“Of course.”

“I—I’ll need to think about it—” Eloise tries, but her resolve is slipping. They’re talking a really big amount of cash here, and the vampires will get registered and Eloise won’t be breaking the law, and honestly, everybody gains in this situation, even Baba who orchestrated the mess. Or maybe especially Baba, if she will have six vampires indebted to her.

“One million two hundred thousand pound sterling, darling,” Baba all but purrs, and Eloise can feel herself swallowing the bait, hook, line, and the shiny, £-shaped sinker. “All yours.”

Eloise wasn’t even surprised how Baba could calculate their backlog on the spot—if anyone knew how long each vampire stayed in the manor, it was her, but—

Oh who is she fucking kidding.

(She will regret it, she knows. Babysitting six vampires is not something anyone should hope to get through with their sanity intact.)

“y̅͑̐͋̕o҇̇̒͒́̈́u҇͐̍̎,͑͌́͡ m̈́̌͡y͆̊̋̊͠ d҇͌͐e̛̎͊̀̽a̽͋͗̆͡r̐̈́͝e̽̽̿́͡s̒̑͝t͒̄̒͝ M̎͒͝i̓̿͌̇̄͡s̀̽̂́͝ẗ̛́͋͐r̛̍́͒ē͗̀̃̇̕ś͊͡s͗̇̾͞,̛̋̐” William says knowingly, “a̓͗̐͗̆͝ȑ̑̾͝e̛̽̓̚ a̍̈́̎͡ h̃̐͑͛͡o͌̾͝p̓̌͊̂͡e҇̏̅ľ̛̋̍̃ě̓̊̎̈͝s̛͑̆̔̂̚s͒͊̈̚͝ ć̊̂͆̐͞a̔̒̕s͌̽̀͞e̛͂̍̏ o͐͌́̊͊͝f̛̏̋̃ a̾̎̆̔͡ m̍̑̒͝i͆́͝s͋͗͞e̍̏͠ř̂̐̑͂̕.”

“Deal,” she says, ignoring her familiar’s very true jab, and Baba smiles, because she knows, and Eloise does too, that the younger witch was sold the second money was mentioned, even if that meant herding vampires. She’s been through tougher babysitting assignments.

Eloise extends her hand to Baba, and Baba takes it, and magical chains encircle their clasped hands, because of course Baba would make it a magically binding contract. But Eloise isn’t the one it’s directed at—the chains don’t latch at her, instead shooting forwards at the vampires, to the cacophony of yelps, leaving barely-visible, bracelet-like thin scar-tattoos around their right wrists.

“For your information,” Baba says, “I left the fledgling alone. He’s all of two months since turned, and I’d feel bad if a literal baby were to pay the debts of others.”

“Who’s the altruistic one here, now?” Eloise snorts.

“I am. Maybe. He’s barely an adult by mortal standards as-is, and lacking a sire, or a nurturing environment. It’s a miracle he’s still alive, truly. I hope you’ll rectify it.”

“A pet project?” Eloise asks.

“Maybe,” Baba hums noncommittally. “Or maybe just a pet.”

Eloise glares at the ancient witch, who just smiles and vanishes as abruptly as she appeared, but this time with a crack of displaced air, leaving the younger witch, once more, alone with six vampires and her familiar.

Eloise looks at them all, then exchanges a glance with William, and groans.

Why did she agree to this?

Ah.

Money.

That’s why.

“y̏̍̀̚͠õ̅͞ü̍̆̊̿͠r҇̃̆̅̀ g̛͋̒̚r҇̌́̇̒è̈́̿̿͞e͑́̄͂͞ď̛̎̄͗̓ w̌̾͌͠i҇̀͐̌̾̐ĺ͐͝l͆̿͞ b̛̊͊͋͛ế̌͑̃͞ ỷ͊̿͝ȏ̾̍͆͠ü͋̂͠r̈͑̑͐͂͝ d̔͌̈͡ŏ͗̍̚͡w͂̄͠n͗̍̉̂̕f҇͛͆ā̾̓̕l҇̍̓͌l͊̎͞ ŏ̔͡ń̛̑e҇̆̌̍͑̆ ó͒̾̌͝f̍̾͡ t̛͋̃h̋͋͠ẽ̛̌̏s̽̿̄̚̚͡e͌́͞ d̃̽͒̉͠a҇̋̀͛͋̋ẙ̈́͑͒̓͠ś̾̋̅͝,̃̿͛͠” William huffs in exasperated amusement, and pounces straight back into her shadow, vanishing from the physical realm.

“So I guess you’re staying,” Eloise says to nobody in particular. “Fine. Okay. It’s—Fuck. Okay, okay, I got this. I’ll lay ground rules first thing tomorrow. Whoever decided it was a good idea to appropriate the Master Bedroom will find his things outside the door.”

The blonde looked like he wanted to argue, but Eloise just looked at him flatly.

“You may have been a top dog before, blondie, but I own the place, you’re staying here only thanks to the good grace of my heart and Baba’s money, and I’m too retired to deal with your shit today,” she says. “If you want to challenge my authority, door’s right fucking there. That all? No, that not all. Kidlet, when have you eaten last?” she asks the fledgling at the top of the staircase.

He startles a bit at being singled out, looks around for a moment, and only then answers. “Two days ago. Ma’am.”

The overwhelming need to bang her head on the wall so that the world maybe starts making sense again returns to Eloise with vengeance.

“William please tell me you have blood stashed somewhere in the Shadowrealm,” she pleads instead.

William pokes his head out of her shadow. “d͊͐̂̒͋͡ē̊̆̀̚͝e͑̾͝r̓̒̑̀̕̚,҇͛͆̀͊̚ w̍̿̿̎͗͠o̒̇̅̾̾͞l̿́͒͞f͆͛̾̐͞,̾̓͒͡ a͗̽͞ň̍͝ḋ̛̍̏ s̆̃͠o͗͛̍̉͡m҇̌̌ȅ̉́͞ g̛͑̄r͗̔̔̈͝i͒̃͡f̀̽̍̓̄͞f̛̿͌i͒͛͂̓͠n̛͛͛̇ f̛̅́r̛̒̓̎ơ̍̊͛͋̚m̛͂͛ ȏ͆̏̇͞u͂̈́̔̏͞r̒̑͡ l̛͊͌a͊̌͊͆̿̕s̃̽͋̋̂͡t͑̀͐̇͋͡ h̏̈͌̚͝u҇̍̂͑̏n҇̊͐̽͒t́̀͆͞.͒̈́̚̚͠ I͂̎͒̂͞'͌̊̃́̽͠m͗́͞ ń͆̐̕̚ȯ̚͝t̑̀̏͛͠ g͑͂̃̃͛̕í̛͒̓v͒̽͡i̓̽̎̇͝n̆̾͠g̔̈̉̅͞ t̾̓͡h̋͌͞e͆̊͒͊͞ g̈́̎͐̄͂͝r̓͊̓̔̇̕i̍̓̿̎̕f̛̎̏͐̐f̀̏̕i̽̃́͒͒͝n̒̀̑͝ t̎̏͠h̓̄͂̅̏͡ő͑͡ũ͋̽͑͝g̎̊̈́͠h͊̋̾̆͠.”

“Give the deer,” Eloise says, and few seconds later she has an armful of glass jugs filled with blood. “Thanks.”

With that, she moves upstairs, dumps the jugs—three of them, five liters each, full—into fledgling’s arms, and barges into the Master Bedroom. As promised, she gathers and teleports blondie’s things outside the door, throws few cleaning spells around, changes sheets, changes into pajamas, and throws herself onto the bed.

Everything else seems like tomorrow’s Eloise’s problem, and she leaves it at that, falling asleep without a care.

(And maybe with a nasty surprise on the door that zaps the pale asshole when he tries the doorknob.)

(https://picrew.me/image_maker/43267)