#I know she had a ton of health problems but like

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

So how do you think Harry's kids got here? Do you think a surrogate was used? Do you think a donor egg and/or sperm was used?

I'm of the opinion a surrogate was used for both kids and that they might not be 100% their biological children. I know some people say Archie looks like August and Lili from her photo when she was one years old is supposed resemble the late Queen at that age. But people often see what they want when deciding who kids look like and kids can look like different people as their faces change.

You could go to any school in multiple countries and find a kid who looks just like Archie and we don't know what Lili looks like because whenever she's been "papped" the person apparently used the worse camera ever and their specially is blurry photos.

More importantly for me the question is why the BRF have played along is it just because they were afraid of being called racist if they said Archie isn't eligible to be in the line of succession? Do they not actually know whether a surrogate was used or do they simply not care?

For Harry and Meghan they should have been open about using a surrogate. They would have received so much support, there would be the conversation about whether people should use surrogates but the majority of the UK would've supported their decision to have a family. Funny thing is it would've made their kids special and got them the attention they wanted. Hiding all the details about the kids has resulted in no one caring about them or having any connection to them.

I would like the truth to be publicly known even it causes problems for the BRF. You won't generally find me defending members of the British aristocracy but if they have to adhere to the succession laws then so should members of the BRF.

I shared my thoughts on this several months ago (sometime between February - May 2024) but I haven't been able to dig that post up. I'll repeat what I said here but I will not be discussing this topic any futher after this gets posted.

What I said several months ago still remains true: Sometimes I think it was a gestational surrogate. Other times I think she really did carry Archie.

On the gestational surrogacy: Their story of Archie's birth, as told via Spare, gives me extraordinary pause because medically, none of what Harry says happened is/was possible. The lack of detail and/or sob story from Meghan also gives me pause. Consider the way she shouted from the mountaintops about her miscarriage in the New York Times. Now consider how silent she's been about her traumatic birth with Archie (according to Harry) or about how California's COVID protocols during her pregnancy with Lili may have affected her mental health. I specifically point out the latter because most of the women I know who were pregnant and/or gave birth between March 2020 - Summer 2021 talked a whole [fork] ton about the COVID protocols in place that made pregnancy an awfully lonely experience. Additionally, Meghan's desire for privacy on these experiences contradict her usual preference to compete with and/or one-up Kate. Since we know Kate had difficult pregnancies, we expect Meghan to either claim she had it worse (which Archie's traumatic birth as described by Harry in Spare definitely is, since KP's reports of the three Cambridge births were "textbook and uneventful") or her pregnancy was so easy, so straightforward, so textbook, so uneventful that she was literally a goddess of pregnancy. But yet Meghan has remained suspiciously silent, even when she's doing her "as the momest mom to ever mom" PR.

On the "Meghan really carried Archie" side: I have a cousin who's as thin as Meghan was pre-Archie, right down to the ankles that could snap. Like Meghan, my cousin's only weight gain during both of her pregnancies was in her belly/baby bump. So I know it's possible for some women to gain no weight but the baby bump. And second, Meghan did gain weight during her third trimester - she was noticeably fuller in her face at the Windsor presentation and had a noticeably fuller body at Trooping and Wimbledon and appeared to struggle losing the weight until spring 2022/Platinum Jubilee. We know that Meghan is incredibly vain to where she wouldn't have gained all that extra weight without good reason - after all, she made Trevor sign a pre-pregnancy contract listing her demands / requirements to get her body back should they have a baby.

Now to your questions:

is why the BRF have played along is it just because they were afraid of being called racist if they said Archie isn't eligible to be in the line of succession? Do they not actually know whether a surrogate was used or do they simply not care?

I've already covered this here. I think you can find it under the surrogacy tag. So I won't go into too much here.

My theory for why the BRF played along is because they didn't know there was a surrogate until it was too late and by then, they were already trapped in the scheme so they had no choice but to go along. Presenting their schemes as faint accompli has been Sussex MO for a very long time, with no one developing a spine until they demanded to commercialize the monarchy.

My theory for why the BRF continues to play along is because Charles is somehow involved and/or implicated and that truth coming out would lead to a scandalously huge lapse in confidence that could only be reconciled by his abdication to William. Charles has waited too long to be top dog to let anything get in his way and I suspect that we'll only find out the truth (or even a partial truth) if Clarence House finds a way to untangle Charles from it.

As I said at the beginning of this post, I won't be discussing this anymore and will not be posting any asks resulting from this. You're free to discuss in comments or reblogs, though.

[howlinghunters]

Yesterday would've been mom's 56th birthday

[nope-body]

.

[jimblejamblewritings]

love letters and second sons | part 4.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes)

Warnings for this part: smut

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

The cloak wrapped around you felt like velvet. The softness between your fingers calmed you down significantly. Reynolds grabbed your hand after the fifth time you balled it up in your skirts. You looked up to see your three valets trying to hide the concern on their faces. You could have an incident or get caught or both. None of those three options were ideal or even good. 

“Do I look decent?” you asked as the carriage got closer and closer to the party. 

“You look perfect.” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t wear the mask?” 

“You don’t have to but keep it on you.” 

You agreed, exiting the carriage with a letter from the princess version of you — complete with a wax seal — that was basically a pass to enter any establishment no matter what. Spotting Penelope and Colin out of the corner of your eye, you breathed out a sigh of relief and ran over to them. Both of them wore wide smiles at your surprise arrival. They had been expecting a letter or something to signal your arrival back from Ireland. 

You were sad to hear about Marina not joining you all for this evening. It would have been nice to know her more than a little bit in between the courting of suitors. But there would be more times to meet and catch up later. Plus, hearing your friends’ stories of their daily lives proved to be a good enough distraction. You let them go after a while so Colin could escort Penelope to the dance floor like he promised to do after a run in with Cressida Cowper. 

Looking around, you failed to immediately locate the rest of the Bridgerton children. You grabbed a drink from the lemonade table and began to wander. The alcohol had looked appealing but you had never drank, afraid of the consequences if drink mixed with your illness. Someday you’d try some but not after an episode. Never right after one. 

On the outskirts of the party, still close enough to hear the music, you ran into Benedict. He gave you a smile and the same surprised look on his face as Penelope and Colin. You leaned in closer to hear him over the deafening melodies of the orchestra. Small talk that was mainly about your fictitious trip made up the first half of your conversation. After a while, you grew comfortable with each other as if you never left. 

“The lights are beautiful,” he commented, staring at the small lantern display that a scientist presented. 

You nodded. “We have some at the palace. They add more day by day but it would be nice if all of London, maybe all of the world, had these little lights. How has your art been?” 

“Not terribly well. Nothing seems to be good enough.” 

“Well, what are you drawing?” 

“Still life. I can’t expect my free drawings to be good if I can’t depict what is right in front of me.” 

“You are too hard on yourself, Benedict seriously,” you argued when he scoffed. “Sometimes we have a problem seeing our own greatness. You ju—” 

“Would you ever consider marriage to someone, me, perhaps?” 

You choked on your lemonade. “Pardon?” 

“Apologies.” He finally turned to look at you. “With Daphne out in society, people have started looking at Anthony and because my dear brother does not care to at least pretend to be a proper viscount, they have started to look at me. Ravenous mamas are eyeing me and it must be a matter of time before they talk to me.” 

You laughed. “You still call me Miss Beckett yet you want me to help you through a marriage?” 

“Wait, what is your name, actually? If you are to continue being a friend of the family then I am at liberty to refer to you by first name.” 

“Bergamot. My parents were a bit too keen on gardens. My second name is Sophie.” 

“Bergamot Sophie Beckett. That is a lovely name.” 

“Thank you… I still won’t marry you.”

Benedict scrunched up his face as he bent over to try and plead with you. “Please! I can’t be out here with the wolves.” 

You patted him on the shoulder. “Your whining, no matter how pathetic and cute, will not work. I will see you tomorrow, alright.” 

He muttered something that you didn’t hear while you took off into the gardens for a stroll. You’d have to leave soon, pressing your luck wasn’t the way to go. You put your cloak back on and closed it to hide your dress completely as you finally put your mask on. The gardens at night were very beautiful. Perhaps because you were alone. 

You chuckled at the thought of your interaction with Benedict. Even if it happened only a few moments ago, it was hysterical. It was only funnier because you were sure that when you finally introduced yourself to society, you’d get even stranger proposals. Only they wouldn’t be to avoid hungry mamas. And they wouldn’t be coming from one of your friends. 

Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too upset with you. Hyacinth would never but she was more like a little sister than a friend. Benedict would think the whole situation is funny, hopefully. Daphne might as well. Eloise and Penelope could go either way. Anthony would probably be mad that you let him attempt to woo the princess when you knew the truth which would make Colin and Gregory and Francesca mad at you as well. But maybe it would be fine after you explained everything. 

The sound of voices caught your attention. Spying was wrong but you couldn’t help yourself. You started to walk into the hedges, ignoring the twigs catching everywhere. The view wasn’t the best but you could see well enough. What could be a scandal between Daphne Bridgerton and Nigel Berbrooke seemed to be a very different scene to you because you knew the man from her letters. You tightened the mask around you just in case you needed to leave the bushes. 

Nigel kept coming close to Daphne. You began to run when he grabbed her, thinking of how to protect your friend. You’d have to hit him. That was the only option. There was nothing else you could do about it… You paused as Daphne pulled her hand back. There was Nigel Berbrooke on the ground. After being punched. 

You and Daphne looked up from Nigel to see the Duke of Hastings running into the garden clearing as well. The two of them seemed to realize that you were the princess and you were in the garden with them having witnessed everything. They bowed to you deeply, something you returned. 

“I will survey the area. If I do not return then you two may safely leave the garden.” 

“Thank you, Your Highness.” 

“It is no trouble really. I am so sorry for your distress, Miss Bridgerton, and I do hope your hand feels better in the morning.”  

You did a thorough check of the area to make sure that Daphne wasn’t compromised before fleeing to your carriage before anyone could spot the mask. Assuring your valets nothing went wrong, you closed the carriage door and let it drive back to Kew. 

“Thank you,” you said as you took off your mask and cloak and opened the carriage window since it was night. 

“For what?” 

“For making me go out tonight. I did need it. I feel better, immensely.” 

“That is good. We are glad to hear it. Will you be going out again tomorrow?” 

“Just to the Bridgertons.” 

“Oh, to home then.” 

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue because they were right. Being at the Bridgertons felt like home more than your own at times. Maybe because your mother and father were the only ones who even tried to be a proper family. But there was no trying with the Bridgertons. They just were family. 

That much was true when you walked into the house a lot later than the early morning to see everyone but Eloise in the drawing room, talking about Daphne and the Duke. You said hello, greeted by hugs from everyone who didn’t see you yesterday. You took the plate of toast from Violet, who was trying to get her daughter to eat, and shoved the bread under Daphne’s nose. She took a bite before actually grabbing it from you. Relieved of your mother bird duties, you plopped down on the couch in between Benedict and Colin. 

“What are your plans for today?” 

“Fencing and then a gentlemen’s club and then preparing for a party tomorrow and, dreadfully, a picnic the next day,” Colin said as he handed you a chocolate from the box on the side table. 

“May I watch?” 

“Of course, Sophie. A beautiful lady will only encourage us.” 

“Since when did you learn to be a flirt?” 

He just shrugged, sitting back to listen to Daphne play the pianoforte and tease her about the duke. You clapped at the end of her piece and requested a second one that she obliged. Daphne would have to play at the palace some time or at least at Kew. She sounded lovely. Closing your eyes, you just listened for a moment. 

“How does a lady come to be with child?” 

Your eyes flew open to see Eloise standing in front of everyone. Violet jumped up from her brief moment of sitting on the couch across from you. 

“Eloise, what a question!” 

“I thought marriage was a requirement.” 

Daphne tilted her head. “What?” 

“Apparently, it’s not even a requirement.” 

“Eloise.” 

“Mama, the princess did say all young women nearing their debut should learn.” 

Violet stuttered as she took the tray of food out of the room, forcing Hyacinth and Gregory to go with her, stating she’d be back in a moment she just needed some water. She turned back for a moment. 

“Daphne, dear, do go on. I’d like to hear some calming music when we return.” 

Eloise trudged over to the couch, sitting on the other side of Benedict. She smacked her brothers’ knees but neither one of them wanted to answer her directly. Colin turned his head. 

“Have you ever visited a farm, El?” 

You laughed as Benedict smacked the back of Colin’s head but stopped when Eloise slumped down in her seat. You tapped her on the shoulder, making her perk up again. Your hand rested on Benedict’s thigh so you could prop yourself up as you leaned over him.

Covering your mouth and Eloise’s ear, you began whispering to your friend everything you thought she needed to know about sex. Unable to help himself, Benedict leaned in to spy, surprised that your information was actually correct. You weren’t lying, the Princess’ court really taught all the valets everything. Eloise sat back, finally satisfied and a lot less worried about a spontaneous pregnancy. Until she became curious again. 

“But why would anyone want to initiate it? Who wants to be with child?” 

You leaned over once again. “No one wants to be with child. Even those who want children. It’s about the pleasure. Sometimes the pleasure of actually liking someone and other times the pleasure being about nothing but you.” 

“What?” 

“The… think about when you start breathing a bit heavier, feeling warm when you touch each other, a… I’ll tell you the rest when your brothers aren’t here. It is a bit awkward. Oh, I’ll even draw you pictures. Only a certain amount of posit— mov— steps are important. The rest you should figure out with your husband.” 

“So you do truly know what you’re talking about?” Benedict interrupted the nearly finished meeting. 

“Did you doubt me?” 

“A bit,” he admitted. 

You sat back down. “Men aren’t the only ones that know what they are talking about.” 

“Sorry to offend.” 

“No offense. None at all. I expect even the kindest and smartest and prudest of men to think such things.” 

“Well, I am still sorry. If not because of offense then because of my ignorance.”

You squeezed his thigh in appreciation. Benedict laid his hand on top of yours. The two of you stayed like that for a moment until his hand held onto yours a bit tighter. He turned to look at you. There was an understanding shared between your eyes. There was no breathing heavy or loving eyes. It was for both of you but in purely selfish pleasurable ways. 

“Sophie, are you coming to watch our fencing match?” Benedict asked.

“Yes.” At that he moved your hand closer to his private. “A bit after the calling hour starts. I like to watch the men make fools of themselves.” 

“I am not surprised by that at all. Shall we wait for you?” 

You closed the gap and placed your hand over the top of Benedict’s pants. “No. You may start without me and I’ll just come when I find the time.” 

“Okay. We’ll play again soon, maybe even another game today. So don’t be too bothered if you miss us playing for your calling hour.” 

Giving an experimental squeeze, you watched the man next to you nod ever so slightly and swallow his spit before moving your hand himself. You both relaxed into the couch completely, satisfied with your understanding. The two men left when Violet came back — it was fairly obvious that calling hour was about to start. The calling hour was several hours but at some point you had just dropped the s and you weren’t sure why. 

You thought it would be only one or two men but the duke seemed to have lit a fire under the other men’s feet. The line became rather long rather quickly. You were happy for Daphne. The more men the better. Maybe she could get a love match.

You took the last bouquet of flowers for Daphne, thanked Lord Colfield, and went to go put the flowers in a vase on the fireplace mantle. You were about to tell Daphne that you were leaving to see her brothers’ fencing match when Anthony came storming in. A gasp escaped you when Nigel Berbrooke came up behind. You were completely over this little man and his obsession. 

Without thinking, you approached Anthony. “What do you think you ar— Anthony, you and Nigel need to either leave the drawing room as this is your sister’s calling hour or wait in line if he is here to call? These lords and gentlemen have waited a great deal to talk to her and they are very patient. It is not right nor just nor of any class to disrespect the patience they have shown.” 

“Nigel?” Berbrooke scoffed. “Who do think yo—” 

“The Young Princess’ valet. She’s become a family friend,” Anthony cut Nigel off. 

At least Berbrooke had the decency to be surprised and then give you a bow. Their tunes towards you changed completely as they almost looked like they were going to wait their turn or just leave. Nigel smiled. 

“Callers were unexpected as we have already been talking extensively.” 

“Lord Berbrooke is the only man who proposed and therefore the only person I consider.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You looked at Anthony.

“He is the on—” 

“Everyone! I am very sorry but you must leave. Miss Bridgerton’s calling hour is currently closed. Please leave your name with Heroldt, starting with the order you have been waiting, and two days from now we will continue.” You turned to Anthony as everyone filed out without complaint since they thought the princess was the reason for calling hour being over. “There. Now, Lord Berbrooke, I must speak with the Bridgertons alone. I hope that speech staved off the wolves for you if only for two days while matters are discussed.” 

“Thank you, Lady…” 

“Miss Beckett,” Anthony answered. “Thank you, Sophie. Lord Berbrooke, do you need me to escort you?” 

“No, no. You have business. I can find the front door on my own.” 

The moment he left, you, Daphne, and Violet descended on Anthony. Every word that came out of Anthony’s mouth made you scoff. Violet looked between all three of you, very upset. Anthony was ruining both Daphne’s prospects as well as his own prospects with the princess. And you were there to witness it all.

You backed Daphne on everything. Even if she was wrong, Nigel was a foul man that you would never allow to marry. You approached Anthony, speaking lowly although your friend and her mother could still hear it. 

“I hope you survive whatever poison you are drinking. Whether the Duke is a serious man or not, there are plenty of serious men here. You will not sign away your sister to such a foul man that you barely know as well and pretend it is in her best interest. And you will not expect her to be understanding or appreciative when you don’t care an ounce for your sister’s happiness. And you still wish to draw up a marriage contract? Please, just think for a moment… Good day, Viscount Bridgerton.” 

You stormed out of the drawing room and straight into the backyard where Colin and Benedict were handing their fencing gear back to a servant. They noticed the furrow in your brow. Benedict clicked his tongue. 

“I will find out what is wrong. You, brother, instruct the kitchen to leave something out for us. If there is crying then we will be long.” 

Benedict practically dragged you to the far side of the backyard. He knew no one would think anything of it when you were very angry about something Anthony did — that part was loud enough for everyone to hear. He looked at you when the two of you finally stopped. 

“Was that a ploy to get away? Or are you genuinely mad at my brother?” 

“I don’t want to talk about why I’m mad at Anthony. There’s nothing you can do anyway. Not without a good scandal… Sorry, I came out here for a fencing match. Let us focus on it. On you.” 

He took your hand again, placing it over his trousers. You began to rub it back and forth, the fabric between you guys creating friction. You reached into his pants and pulled out his cock, stroking it a bit more freely. Benedict pulled you closer. His hand reached around your ass to squeeze it.

Every time you stroked him closer to finishing he would squeeze harder than before. You watched his face the entire time. If you got back exactly what you were giving him then you would be a very happy woman. It was truly going to be about selfish pleasure for both of you. 

You gasped when he all but ripped the top part of the dress as he tried to push it all down to expose your breasts. He wanted something else to stare at that would get him off even quicker. You tried to stifle any moans threatening to escape your lips as he groped you — some of the marks so hard you were sure they would be a bit red until tomorrow. This was his turn. Yours would be later. If you both tried to get pleasure at the same time... Well, that's how people fall in love. The two of you weren't stupid to test that.

Benedict moaned and for a moment both of you were worried someone would come see what was the matter. He laughed underneath your hand covering his mouth. 

A shudder went through him and he grabbed your wrist. “I’m going to come. I-if you let g-go… just in m-my britches.” 

You dropped to your knees, shocking your friend. He grabbed your head with one hand while he bit down on the other until he finished. A very gentle touch lifted you up. He wiped stray bits of lipstick from around your mouth, wiping the evidence away on the inside of his vest. 

“I have to say I did not expect you to sit down for the last round of fencing. We were done anyway.” 

“Well, I wanted to help put up the equipment so we could all relax later. Plus, if the princess does choose to invite you all to Kew then I would like you to help put up the equipment there too.” 

Benedict laughed. 

“I promise whether I win or lose. The next time we have a round of fencing, I will put up the equipment. All of it.”

He leaned down to whisper.

“Even if you are not a lover, I would never have you on the ground, sullying your pretty gowns and body..." He squeezed your breasts one last time before helping pull your dress back up. "with grass and dirt stains. I promise I’ll bring you your pleasure next time we are inside and alone. I will leave first and retire to my room. You stay out here and eat the sandwiches the cook left. I won’t be able to return for at least an hour.” 

“Okay. I have to go see the Featheringtons and Miss Thompson anyway.” 

You did just as Benedict suggested and no one even gave you a suspicious look. You took your own sweet time going across the street. You had moved the physician and all of Wednesdays special tutors to Tuesdays so you would have more time in the city. Despite not wanting any visitors, you were the obvious exception and could go upstairs to see Marina. She looked up from her writing desk when Penelope announced she was coming with a visitor. 

The three of you gathered on the bed to share a plate of sweets. You mainly listened to Marina and Penelope, not having much to add. You wanted to figure out a way to help her. Trying to meddle in daily affairs and save the lives of one subject at a time seemed almost ridiculous. But, that was what you should do as a royal. 

“Did you say Spain?” 

“Yes. That’s where all of George’s letters are coming from at the moment. They all say Spain.”

“If you ever need a letter to Spain or to anywhere else they send Sir George, just let me know. The princess wants to help her subjects, especially women, so give me a letter and I’ll give it to her. Whenever you need.” 

Marina flung herself at you. “Thank you. If there shall ever be a problem, I promise I will say such.” 

“Oh, the princess is going back to the palace for a few weeks because of something important so I won’t be so available for a little bit.” 

“What will she be there for?” 

“You will find out when it happens.” 

The two of them giggled. “You are so mysterious.” 

~~

You were tired after an exhausting day but a letter you received from a footman that same day made you get up. Anthony had given you a key to the front and back garden gates as well as the back door that led into the kitchen. You entered through the backyard so you could actually get inside the house without waking the entire house with your knocking. You only needed Violet and Daphne. And you had a letter to leave just in case you couldn’t wake a single person. 

Voices made you pause. You recognized Eloise and Benedict talking. Instead of going any further, you just listened. Eloise — like so many other women — wanted better for herself. It had never been a question of something you would plead to your brother… You sighed. You knew your brother. It was time to stop thinking of him as the heir. There was a reason everyone was going to support Younger Charlotte’s claim over her father. And Young Charlotte listened to you. She planned on making you her advisor. There would be no pleading. You would make better laws for women. 

You didn’t want to disturb them too much so you flung the letter at Benedict’s head. Running as fast as you could, you ignored their confused calling out for you once they recognized the letter coming from the princess. Hopefully, Benedict or Eloise would get the letter to their mother before Nigel could come back. 

Dear Dowager Viscountess, 

I am nothing but my mother’s daughter and therefore it is, in fact, my job to meddle in the lives of our precious subjects for a better and more peaceful United Kingdom. Miss Beckett has told me much of your troubles in regards to a man called Lord Nigel Berbrooke. I don’t have much information on him but I do have a request that I would ask you to aid your princess in. 

I recall an acquaintance of his. A maid. She used to work at the palace but asked for a job in the ton so she could be closer to her aging parents. I believe she was employed by a neighbor of the Berbrookes? Or a friend? Or maybe them, who knows. She was supposed to come back two years after they died but has yet to return. Nigel or one of his neighbors must know. Or perhaps, his mother, she’s very close to the maids. Knows every single one of them by name. I care terribly for this maid and would like her working back at the palace.  

Please meet with his mother. She loves crumpets with any sort of preserves or a chocolate dipping sauce. It was all she wanted when she requested a meeting with my second brother. 

That is all I have to say. I do look forward to seeing your family properly. 

Yours Truly, 

Princess Y/N Kew 

P.S. Please tell Anthony that it took him long enough but I am proud he finally came to his senses. If only he can learn to listen to a woman first then he might have less problems.

You smiled to yourself as you sat in the kitchens. The staff couldn’t stop talking about Nigel Berbrooke’s bastard that he doesn’t take care of and the mother he sent away before she even gave birth. You would feel bad but you had a very personal and up-close view of the man’s real personality. The morning only got better when Brimsley and Reynolds came in with Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers. It was on the front page of the pamphlets. Absolutely worth paying the two pounds per pamphlet for everyone in the Kew household. 

“Do you think he’ll ever show his face again?” 

“No,” the cook said as she handed you your breakfast. “You did a good thing for Miss Bridgerton, Your Grace.” 

“Your Grace?” 

“It is just a title we are trying out.” 

You hummed suspiciously. The cook ignored you. 

“You better pack if you don’t want to be late for the carriage coming today.” 

You nearly forgot. The reason you couldn’t hang out with the Featheringtons and the Bridgertons arrived. Your cousin Friedrich, the prince of Prussia, was coming for a visit. He agreed to marry a British girl to strengthen the alliances and prove that Prussia and Britain were still close family. It was neither a complete truth or a complete lie. The entire family was not close. But you, your cousin, your father, your mother, and your aunt were very close. 

Sneaking out wasn’t an option. You thought that much as the carriage neared Buckingham. It had been a while since you snuck out the palace — a completely different thing from simply leaving Kew. Pandora, Brimsley, or Reynolds would sneak you your letters and you would be satisfied. Besides, even though your family was coming for an indefinite amount of time, you only had to stay a week or two. 

The carriage hadn’t even stopped completely before you ran to hug your cousin. It had been years since you last saw each other. You could hear your mothers laughing in the background. They left to have tea inside while the two of you stayed out. 

Friedrich took your hand in the crook of his arm. “Come, cousin, let us take a promenade. Have you been well?” 

“I have been better. However, I am doing well.” 

“And your illness?” 

“Not better. But I haven’t had an episode that I couldn't recover from on my own.” 

“That is good. I suppose that is the best we can ask for. Especially since I have a surprise for you.” 

“A surprise?” 

“I asked Aunt Charlotte and she agreed to let the princess accompany me to events as she knows the ton better than the both of us. You have to wear your mask but it is still a good deal.” 

“It is a wonderful deal.”

“Good. The first event is a ball tonight.” 

“Tonight?! But I’m not prepared.” 

“I’ve already had everything arranged.” 

“You planned this?” 

“I figured it would do you good to get some fresh air and get out of the palace… or Kew, now.” 

“Thank you, Friedrich. Seriously, thank you.”

(part 5)

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[rivetgoth]

Black Alternative Music Recs

Not being Black myself, I hesitate to make myself a spokesperson specifically for Black alt artists as I don’t want to be tokenizing or reductive and I’d rather, like, uplift the voices of Black alt people than just make my own lists, BUT, I keep seeing people in the comments of recent posts about Death Grips asking for recs for more Black alternative artists, and I do know a good amount, so as a really basic list I wanted to throw out a few artists I really like—

Light Asylum: Darkwave. Really incredible vocalist, and openly queer. “Dark Allies” is a huge goth club hit but all of her work is great. I’ve seen her live twice and her live concerts are incredible too. One of the bigger Black goth artists.

Ho99o9: Punk/Industrial Hip Hop. Another big one, they’re pretty well known at this point but if you DON’T know them you should. Huuuge variety in sound here, all of it is so fun and solid, absolutely amazing energy.

clipping.: Industrial/Experimental Hip Hop. Really fun and catchy, great lyrics, great mixing, great experimental electronic sound.

Void Palace: Industrial/EBM. Local LA-based act with an amazing industrial dance club sound and vibe. Seen them live and they bring such cool but crazy energy. Really really solid.

O. Children: Darkwave/Post Punk. Really classic gothic sound, amazing vocals, really underrated, theatrical, fun, and moody gothic rock.

Izzy Spears: Industrial/Experimental Hip Hop. Openly gay alternative hip hop artist with a heavy and super danceable beat. I saw him live and he sounded great and had awesome punky energy.

LUSTSICKPUPPY: Punk/Electro-Industrial. Has almost a hyperpop sound sometimes, super high BPM high energy danceable electronic music with a really crazy theatrical style to their performances (kicking myself for missing them last year!). ETA: LSP uses they/them pronouns, corrected now but apologies for missing that irt any older iterations of this post floating around.

Baby Storme: Darkwave/Ethereal Pop. I think she got a bit of popularity on TikTok recently? I don’t use TikTok so idk, but she’s great. Really well mixed, fun, super solid dreamy darkwave with a dancey pop sound intermixed.

Grizz: Darkwave Hip Hop. I JUST discovered this artist, he’s another LA local who just put out a new single that’s getting some attention and he’s really good. Super cool goth fusion sound with really great classic darkwave electronic backing. Check him out!

Cold Gawd: Shoegaze/Post-Hardcore. Iconically sells merch that says “ABOLISH WHITE SHOEGAZE.” Absolute powerhouse of sound; I saw them live and their music sounded torrential, like this intense, powerful storm.

Debby Friday: Dark Electronic/Experimental Hip Hop. Really really haunting and dreamy gothic sound. Collaborates with artists like Boy Harsher. Superbly mixed. Lots of variety in sound but very consistently strong.

Dre Robinson: Industrial/Experimental Electronic. Longtime cEvin Key/Skinny Puppy collaborator. He was on stage with Skuppy during the recent live tour, doing sound and playing the maggot maracas (iykyk). He’s also been involved in a ton of cEvin’s solo work and accompanies him on stage for his live solo shows.

Charles Levi: Industrial/Industrial Rock. Wax Trax!/90s industrial icon, did work for My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult and Pigface. He’s recently had a bunch of serious health problems and has a GoFundMe up of you’d like to donate. He contributed to so much classic industrial rock, it’s crazy.

There’s a billion more. These are just some artists I genuinely really like personally who are Black, and I think all of them deserve a ton of support and recognition as contributors to the alternative scene. There’s so many amazing Black-fronted alternative bands and projects, and I’m just scratching the surface with artists I know and enjoy, Also considered listing some larger names like Yves Tumor and Tricky, but I feel they’re slightly more well known in the mainstream with ~1mil+ listeners on Spotify and I wanted to highlight some slightly more underground voices (to varying degrees—obviously some artists here are more well known than others).

Check them out!! Support Black alternative music!

[keepittoyourshelf]

Since the algorithm on my various socials thinks I actually want to see a ton of people simping over Rhys and ACOTAR, let’s get down to the bones of why that algorithm is fucked beyond all comprehension, shall we?

I’ve never hidden the fact that I’m pro-Tamlin, not in the sense that I approve of what he did, but from the place that I believe he’s worthy of forgiveness in the same way any of the men that SJM otherwise glorifies in her work is worthy of it for any of their transgressions.

I shouldn’t have to do a paint by numbers thing here to make this obvious, but based on the actual text written by SJM in her own words, Tamlin has objectively done nothing better or worse than Rhysand has.

The big complaint is his temper, of course, and pro-Rhysies love to bullshit about how the red flags were all over book 1 and SJM is such a master at foreshadowing.

He locked Feyre in a house against her will to protect her, when she clearly didn’t want to be caged. How is that any worse than Rhysand���drugging her and making her give him lap dances, in order to protect her, when she clearly didn’t want to be dancing naked in front of strangers?

Go on. I’ll wait for your rationalization.

Rhysand’s whole shtick was that he’s only playing the villain to keep Velaris (and only Velaris) safe…those fucks in the Hewn City can eat a bag of dicks, right? But tell me again how Tamlin is the really bad one for enforcing a tithe because it’s unfair to those who can’t afford it (fair point). But Rhysand chooses to save the one city in his court that has zero problems. Let’s let those that might already be suffering from poverty get kidnapped and tortured by a psychopath. That’s probably better than a tithe, right?

And let’s not forget how Tamlin mocked Feyre and Rhys at the High Lords meeting. While funny, it was in poor taste. At least Rhysand didn’t publicly mock Tamlin. He had the decency to do it privately when he went out of his way to go to a deeply troubled man’s house and, in the midst of an obvious mental health crisis, not only had the gall to ask for resources from a man that has no resources because his own wife fucking destroyed them out of spite, but proceeds to rub in his triumph over a man that has nothing left. Nothing to see there, right?

Even if you could ignore all of that (and you’d have to be willfully fucking thick to do so, which a lot of these people are), I shall leave you with Tamlin’s role as a spy for Hybern. That’s obviously supposed to be a real shock because TaMliN BaD at this point, so why would anyone believe him? It’s not like he had a really good explanation like Rhys gave when he murdered literal children and innocents just to ensure Amarantha didn’t know how noble he actually was. Right? RIGHT?! And it’s not like anyone would have a harder time believing someone who had played evil and done actually evil things for the “greater good” (a collectivist dog whistle if there ever was one) for fifty fucking years over the dude that suddenly goes bad after being a progressive and respected high lord for the same period of time? I mean, it’s not like we’re dealing with severe mental anguish and trauma here. That’s crazy talk.

Shadow Daddy does no wrong. Even when he does. Because reasons.

Those idiots on TikTok making stupid videos showing their bf’s being all shocked and I KNEW IT when Tamlin “turns” can chew glass along with all those dipshits selling mugs that say “Tamlin’s Tears” on Etsy right next to merch glorifying a man that literally gaslit his soulmate into believing that forced drunken naked lap dances were actually a good thing, when you think about it.

SJM isn’t a master of foreshadowing. She’s a sloppy writer of moderately entertaining fiction that has a kink for glorifying severely unhealthy behaviors without the benefit of a trigger warning.

Fuck off if you think that’s all okay and think that anyone that says Tamlin isn’t any worse comparatively is the crazy one. Projection is a real disorder. Look it up. Right after you order your 543rd Rhysand candle.

[dr-spectre]

Splatoon 2 Callie Explained - (In my interpretation)

So in this blog post I wanna go over what is going on with Callie in Splatoon 2 because there's a lot of misinformation being spread around due to how unclear the events of Splatoon 2 were. I'm going to provide my own thoughts into how the Hypnoshades actually affect Callie and clear up what hypnosis actually does to a person, because a lot of people think that Callie was kidnapped and then mind controlled but its actually a lot more complicated than that. I've done a ton of painstaking research into this so if you would like some sources to what I'm saying then I'll be happy to provide it in the comments below when asked!

Okay so first off we need to establish one thing right off the bat, no, Callie was not kidnapped in the sense that she was snatched up by DJ Octavio and then brainwashed while she was kicking and screaming trying to stop him. The idea that Callie was snatched up randomly is simply not to true due to the fact that the OFFICAL Splatoon 2 relationship chart states that Callie was willing to hear out DJ Octavio and go with him. Why? Because if you look at Sunken Scroll 21 and 22 in Splatoon 2, it gives insight into Callie's declining mental health as she struggles to put on a happy face as she walks through a huge crowd of people, as well as the fact that she drew a squid with a sad face on it in Sunken Scroll 22 which is a very clear giveaway that she isn't doing well. Also keep in mind Marie was busy with her own solo thing too and Callie even states in the relationship chart that she's busy and lonely. It also explains why Callie doesn't experience any sort of trauma, turmoil or resentment after Splatoon 2 because well, she wasn't kidnapped and the shades were not forcibly put on her. (Also in Squid Sister Stories chapter 7 there's an artwork piece of Callie walking towards DJ Octavio's star mark so there's that too....)

Now I want to get into how hypnosis actually affects a person and what being hypnotized is actually like. Being hypnotized is described as having "heightened attention, increased focus and heightened suggestibility." You do not get put to sleep and become a puppet as popular media shows it to be, but instead you are hyper aware of what is going on around you. It's also said to be highly relaxing and can help with patients who struggle with anxiety and other mental issues, which might explain why Callie kept putting the shades back on, she enjoys wearing them to some degree as it helps her deal with the pain of being a celebrity, kind of like an addiction but unfortunately Splatoon 2 doesn't explore it at all and Marie (CALLIE'S OWN GOD DAMN COUSIN BTW!) jokes about it..... ugh...... at least she overcomes that addiction OFF SCREEN unfortunately....

Now that part about "suggestibility" is important to consider because contrary to popular belief, you don't lose awareness and memories while you are hypnotized and the person who is in charge of hypnotizing you, CANNOT force you to do anything that's against your wishes and you do NOT lose control of your behavior. Meaning that on some level Callie actually wanted to side with the Octarians because her life beforehand was shitty. The shades do not control Callie but instead put her in a hypnotic state that relaxes her and increases her attention and suggestibility.

For example, if DJ Octavio were to tell Callie to kill Marie instead of Agent 4, she would probably have a ton of hesitation about it and probably not follow his orders. Callie doesn't want to kill Marie, but she doesn't care or know about Agent 4 and that's why she had no problems with following DJ Octavio's suggestions. She also didn't try to attack Marie during the final boss when she was flying around and she just wants Marie to leave her alone because guess what, she's suffering from mental health issues!!!!!! And her relationship with Marie got worse and worse overtime as shown with the Squid Sister Stories.

If you were hypnotized and then the person responsible of your hypnotism handed you a weapon and told you to kill your best friend, you wouldn't do it because it's against your wishes (unless you secretly wanna kill your best friend for some reason....)

With all of this information laid out, it actually does make Splatoon 2's admittedly mid story a bit more interesting, it shows that Callie does have these dark traits and flaws about her, and the Hypnoshades bring out the worst in her. The angry, power hungry and harsh side to her, that was even built up from Splatoon 1. If you look at the dialogue from the Naughty vs. Nice, Early Bird vs. Night Owl and Callie vs. Marie Splatfests, you can see that Callie actually got upset at Marie multiple times due to her attitude.

It really does make Tidal Rush more emotional and powerful as a song if you really think about it. It's a clashing of two cousins whose relationship has been broken apart and Marie is desperately trying to reach out to Callie and fix what she has done. Maybe Marie blames herself for why Callie ran away and that's why she sounds like she's on the brink of tears in the song.... And it makes Spicey Calamari Inkantation more triumphant as a song too.

It does make me a bit angry that Nintendo doesn't wanna dive into these topics as well as Callie. She is flawed and has dark traits about her but, she doesn't try to change or grow from them in any significant or well written way, its like they forgot about it in Splatoon 3 which.... sucks man. I'm hoping we get a Side Order type deal with the Squid Sisters for Splatoon 4 and we dive deeper into the psyches of these girls, because what we have is really interesting but it lacks explanation and nuance and everyone keeps boiling it down to "welp Callie got kidnapped and mind controlled!" Which... its more complex than that... With Agent 3 and Marina it's for sure mind control and i would like to talk about them in a future blog but, with Callie? It's different and there's a lot of layers a lot of people tend to ignore because Splatoon 2's story is just... meh.

[sometimes-men-need-help-too]

The Dadvocate called it the martyrdom of boy moms.

It's these videos where these mothers are speaking about how they are teaching their sons, usually under eight years old, some sort of basic life lesson anyone should know all for the sole purpose of making life easier for her son's future partner.

Payal Desai has nearly 40 videos on her tiktok/instagram that are like that. Her playlist is titled no dusty sons. Here is an example of a video she's posted:

She's not the only one. The Dadvocate reacted to another woman who made a tiktok where she said she was showing her son to look for things so her daughter doesn't have to use her brain space to know where everything is. And I'm sure there's tons more if you look for them

Now one of my issues is that she's blatantly exploiting her sons. Because of her no dusty sons videos, she has been on TV at least once, has had articles written about her and what she's doing, and has a lot of supportive comments like way to go mama, you're a queen/icon/legend, as a girl mom THANK YOU.

I despise it when parents use their kids like this. This woman is showing her kids' faces to countless strangers online. She has 289.9k followers and her account is public. It's bad enough to post about your child on a platform like facebook without caution, let alone what she's doing. And a lot of people are overlooking it because they think she's promoting a good message so it's 'fine.'

The other problem I have are these "lessons." A good majority of them are things she should be teaching them anyway, not directed at a future partner. She has another video where she's teaching her son to brush his teeth and tongue so his partner doesn't have to deal with a man who didn't learn the basics of dental hygiene. You don't teach them to have a good diet or to brush their teeth because it could be inconvenient for their future partner, you do it because it's good for their health. You do it because future adults need to know that sort of thing.

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Six

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Six: Memories of Life and Death

Summary: Everyone says the wrong thing, and (Y/N)'s mental health pays the price.

            (Y/N) closed their eyes and put their hands over their ears as Angel’s show-and-tell video played. It was, of course, nothing short of one of his acting scenes with more of him than (Y/N) ever wanted or needed to see.

            “Ya know, this performance won me a ‘Sex-x-x-i’ award,” said Angel proudly.

            “It’s, uh, very…honest?” Charlie averted her face.

            “Ew,” said Vaggie. “Okay, enough of that! Angel, what the fuck?”

            “What? You said it was Show n’ Tell day!” said Angel. “I’m showin’ you my best film, and I’m tellin’ you that it scored me a win over that bitch, Tiffany Titfucker.”

            “Ya know, that’s not a very convincing interrogation scene,” said Husk from the bar as he cleaned glasses.

            “Alright, dickhead, what makes you think you have any right to insult my work to my fuckin’ face?” said Angel.

            “You’re really gonna sit there and act like these scripts ain’t hot garbage?” said Husk, raising a brow.

            “Fuck you,” said Angel. “This is classy art!” He pointed at the screen on an incredibly inappropriate scene.

            Pentious covered his eyes with his head flaps, and Niffty grinned happily as she watched.

            “That’s bullshit,” said Husk. “You get drunk and bitch about them all the time. Everyone likes to bitch to the bartender. I know everything about you and these motherfuckers at this point.” Angel rolled his eyes, and Husk decided to make a point. “That one.” He pointed at Pentious. “That one is an insecure buffoon whose lonely ass watches you idiots sleep. Princess is a bleeding heart who wants to solve everyone else’s problems ‘cept her own.”

            “What? No, I—Pfft, no, no,” denied Charlie nervously.

            Husk just continued on to Vaggie. “This one judges everyone and everything because she hates herself.”

            “Aargh!” Vaggie hated how accurate it was.

            “That one.” Husk moved on to (Y/N), whose flowers flinched nervously. “Is sick and tired of being thought of as some innocent kid by everyone here and might go crazy if anyone tries to put that role onto them.”

            (Y/N) smiled sheepishly. Unfortunately, they really did feel like that.

            “And Niffty.” Husk made a face. “You don’t even wanna know what her deal is.”

            Angel cackled. “You weren’t kidding. Haha, wow! Kitten’s got claws! Meow~” He grabbed Husk’s face teasingly.

            “And you!” Husk pushed Angel back. “Don’t get me started. I see right through you and all this bullshit and how fake you are.”

            “Oh, me? Fake?” challenged Angel. “Wow. I had no idea. Guess that’s why I’m an actor. Dumbass. And—” His phone went off, and Angel’s face fell before he grabbed it. “Hold that thought.” He walked a few paces away. “Hello? Uh, yeah, I’m-I’m…” His entire attitude had changed, growing nervous and hesitant, completely unlike the usual Angel Dust the hotel dealt with. “No, no, I just, I—No, I’m not, but, uh, yeah…I’ll be right there.”

            He turned off his phone and looked back at the group. (Y/N) furrowed their brow in concern as they saw a familiarly fake smile spread across his face. They had worn that smile themself. It had weighed more than a thousand tons on their shoulders.

            “Well, uh, looks like Val needs me for an, uh, emergency shoot,” said Angel, trying to seem excited and eager.

            “Uhuh, sure,” said Husk, seeing through it.

            “You know what?” snapped Angel. “Fuck you! I don’t give a shit what a drunk ass bartender thinks a’ me! So why don’t you just crawl back to whatever cave you came out of, porn critic.” He gave Husk the middle finger and walked towards the door.

            “Angel, you can’t leave yet!” said Charlie. “We haven’t finished our exercises for the day.”

            “I’m sure you’ll manage without me,” said Angel.

            I don’t think he can say no to Valentino, thought (Y/N), frowning.

            They knew Angel had a contract with Valentino, and they saw the exhaustion in him whenever he returned to the hotel. They knew that if he could, Angel would rest more often. But he couldn’t. And (Y/N) really wished they could do something about it. After all, if there was one thing they despised more than anything else in this whole Hell and Heaven and Earth and everything, it was those that took advantage of others. The very thought summoned a murderous rage (Y/N).

            They knew what it felt like to be used and abused.

            The roses on (Y/N)’s head quivered and wilted as they felt themself on the verge of really, truly remembering (reliving) what they had gone through in life, and (Y/N)’s chest tightened.

            “There isn’t much time left for the hotel to prove itself,” said Charlie, her words drawing (Y/N) out of their mind successfully.

            “Dollface, it’s my job,” said Angel forcefully. “I know you want to fix everything, but unless you can fix my boss, there’s nothing you can do.” He slammed the door shut and was gone.

            “Uuuuugh, why is this so haaaard?” groaned Charlie, curling up in front of the door. “What am I doing wrong?”

            “I don’t think Valentino wants Angel to be redeemed, even if it’s possible,” said (Y/N), frowning.

            “But I do,” said Charlie. “And I really believe in him! But he always has to go to work and can never really commit…What do I do?”

            “Well, I mean, you’re the princess of Hell,” said Vaggie.

            “So?” said Charlie.

            “So, you don’t really use the power that comes with that, which I love about you, but maybe you can…I don’t know, command a little more authority?” suggested Vaggie, smiling encouragingly.

            “But that’s so mean!” said Charlie.

            “I don’t know much about the Vees, but I’m sure they’d deserve it,” said (Y/N), and Husk nodded in firm agreement.

            “It’s not mean, exactly,” said Vaggie, trying to get through to Charlie in a way she’d understand. “It’s, uh, aggressive kindness!”

            Wow. (Y/N) and Husk looked at each other, unimpressed by that “persuasion.”

            “Okay!” Charlie brightened, apparently having been convinced by the idea of “aggressive kindness.” “I could be so aggressively kind to Angel’s boss that I convince to let Angel spend more time at the hotel!”

            “Sure, whatever gets you there, babe,” said Vaggie, smiling at Charlie as she walked out the door happily.

            “Is killing Overlords not on the table?” murmured (Y/N).

            “No,” said Husk. “At least, not for you.”

            “Fine, fine. I’ll do it another time,” said (Y/N).

            Husk shrugged. “As long as you know you’ll win, go for it.” He didn’t care if Valentino got what was coming to him.

            “Do not encourage them to kill people!” said Vaggie.

            “It’s not people. It would be Valentino,” said Husk, and (Y/N) nodded in agreement.

            Vaggie sighed, but she couldn’t disagree.

l

            When Angel returned, (Y/N)’s anger returned full force. He was clearly exhausted and uncomfortable, and whatever he had to film, it was long and, possibly (likely), painful.

            “Eugh, I need a drink,” said Angel, slumping across the bar counter. “The hardest you can make.”

            “Hm. You look like shit,” said Husk, putting a glass down and pouring a drink.

            Angel straightened and put on his overconfident act. “Pfft. Not possible. Just a long shoot, nothin’ new.”

            “Are you alright, Angel?” asked (Y/N), frowning.

            “Of course!” said Angel, but he quickly chugged the drink Husk had made him. He slammed the glass down. “I said a strong one.”

            “Excuse me,” scoffed Husk. “Didn’t realize this was a ‘drinking to forget’ kind of night.”

            “Oh, I forgot. You’re the wise old bartender who’s seen it all!” Angel spoke confidently, but the look on his face was clearly not. “Get the fuck over yourself and pour me a real drink.”

            “Look, if you got a problem, you’re not going to find the solution at the bottom of a bottle,” said Husk. “I should know, I’ve been looking there a long time.”

            “Oh, sure, and where should I look, huh?” said Angel, scoffing. He wiggled his eyebrows. “In your bedroom, maybe? Under the covers? Maybe we can go and look together.”

            “Angel, we’re actually worried,” said (Y/N), walking over. “We want to make sure you’re okay and take care of yourself.”

            “I’m fine,” snapped Angel. “I don’t need any help.”

            “Cut the act,” said Husk. “We can both see through it. You’re just lying to yourself and being fake.”

            “Call me a fake one more time, motherfuckers!” Angel snapped, leaning forward towards (Y/N) and Husk angrily.

            “Angel—” began (Y/N), reaching out slightly.

            “Just leave me alone!” snapped Angel. He slapped their hand away. “Ya know what?! Ya’re all fucking lucky to be talkin’ to me! And you—” he glared at Husk “—would be lucky to fuck me! Ya know how much I’m worth?!” He was clearly spiraling. “Ya know how many people would kill to have Angel Dust come onto them?! Fuck you!” He spun on (Y/N), who flinched back. “And you! Just leave me alone! Stop trying the nice act on me! Acting like you’re innocent and nice when you’re just as much a sinner as us! Just fucking stop!”

            (Y/N) flinched back as Angel stormed out. Their chest constricted, and they were overwhelmed as words from their past came to the surface. (Y/N) stumbled back even as Vaggie came around the corner. They could vaguely hear Vaggie asking Husk what had happened, but everything was faraway, like (Y/N) was underwater.

            (Y/N) pulled away from the group, and as the edges of their vision blurred, they stumbled away, farther into the hotel.

            Away. Need to get away.

            (Y/N) collapsed in a darkened corner of the hotel.

            “Don’t act innocent. You’re a filthy sinner, and if you don’t start obeying me, you’re going straight to Hell.”

            (Y/N) curled up, putting their hands around their knees. Unbidden, roses and briars bloomed around them, creating a protective barrier that couldn’t hide (Y/N) from the words echoing in their mind.

            “I saw you in Church. You weren’t paying attention. Can’t you do anything right? Do you want to burn for all eternity?”

            (Y/N) squeezed their eyes shut and put their hands over their ears, but nothing could block out their memories.

            “You’ve brought this on yourself. You refuse to atone for your sins, so I must deliver you from yourself.”

            (Y/N) flinched, and phantom pain blossomed on their back.

            “You are a sinner! You bring sin into this household! You must atone!”

            (Y/N) curled farther in on themself.

            I’m fine. I’m free. None of them can hurt me again. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.

            “I’m fine. They can’t hurt me. I won. I won. I won.”

            “Sinner. Filthy. Dirty.”

            “No, no, no, you were the filthy one. You hurt me.” (Y/N) murmured. “They hurt me, and I punished them.”

            “Wrong. Mistake. Abomination.”

            “I did the right thing. I did the right thing. I did the right thing.”

            “You have to atone.”

            “Can’t hurt me. Can’t hurt me. Can’t hurt me.”

            (Y/N) tried to breathe as their entire body ran hot, lungs too tight, the air too stuffy.

            And then something cool wrapped around them. (Y/N) tensed, but they were too exhausted to open their eyes, too scared to see the people they were so desperately trying to block out. So they just let the comforting temperature wrap around them, settling around them. It stilled their thoughts, delivering them from their own mental hell.

            (Y/N) let out a tired breath and held themself tightly. Whatever was settling around them felt like no enemy, and (Y/N) would take any bit of comfort they could find.

            They had never gotten any before.

l

            Alastor lurked within the shadows of the hotel, gazing over (Y/N)’s small, protective barrier. He loomed above, perfectly able to act as he wished, ready as ever to drive fear into all. Instead, Alastor let the shadows rise and settle around (Y/N)’s shoulders. Their breathing calmed, and Alastor pulled back farther into the shadows, satisfied.

            He could’ve frightened them. He could’ve driven them farther into their own madness. He could’ve pushed them and their magic to the brink to see if they had the strength to survive.

            But Alastor hadn’t. He’d heard the same words he’d spoken to himself so, so long ago. And he’d done what, perhaps, a different, faint version of himself would have wanted.

            Perhaps (Y/N) and he were not as different as he assumed.

            Instantly, Alastor retreated into the shadows. He would prefer to think over that new realization on his own. It presented quite a few considerations Alastor had so far avoided in his life.

l

            Much, much later in the evening, (Y/N) braved a return to the lobby to attempt to steal a drink before retreating to their room again.

            “Hey, kid?”

            (Y/N) froze and turned. Angel was standing across from them, rubbing his arm nervously.

            “Oh. Uh, hi.”

            “Listen, kid.” Angel stepped forward. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry. For earlier. I shouldn’t’ve said what I did. I was being stupid. You’re a good kid. And even if you’re in Hell, you’re betta than most of the sinners in the Hellhole.”

            “It’s okay,” said (Y/N), shifting uneasily. “You weren’t feeling well. I’m sorry for pushing.”

            “You, uh, cared,” said Angel. “It was nice of you. So thanks.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            Angel smiled slightly. “Are we okay?”

            (Y/N) nodded. “We are.” Angel wasn’t who (Y/N) had escaped. He was their friend.

            And whoever had helped them was their friend, too.

Taglist:

@kyalov

@pandaquick

@boredwithlifeatthispoint

@jaytheaceenby

@paastaboi

@bettybabys

@gxdoesstuff

@grippleback-galaxy

@just-here-reading

@dmitrytherat

@a-small-tyrant

@marxo5

@rory-cakes

@andsoigotabutterfly

@theblueslytherin

@romyoia

@ray-rook

@thereeallink

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@theyaremorethanjustfictional

@lanxianschoenheit

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@ringsofpersonti

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@enderpearltv

@oo0lady-mad0oo

[sensei-venus]

don't get me wrong i love robby's tiny baby girl but the idea of robby's gf having a big fat 10lb baby and being so big during the pregnancy and robby constantly apologizing to her because he feels bad because he "did this to her"

and she's just so cute about it like "stop no, this isn't ur fault babe"

and when their baby girl is born she's just so big and chubby cheeked and sweet and uncle miggy teases robby because he did that, good for you man, kind of thing

The news of Reader being pregnant was a huge surprise to everyone, even Reader and Robby. For Robby he is already feeling bad about even getting her pregnant. Not that he is upset about her having the baby, just at himself for getting her knocked up.

They both talked about having kids before but it was always lukewarm. Both had issues with their childhood and needed to work those problems out first before even thinking about having kids.

But here they are having to speed run now that they where pregnant.

But that by no means makes Robby not love his baby, and later known to be baby girl.

Robby fully admits to not knowing jack squat about baby's and pregnancy in general. He buys a book or two from the store and even lends one from Miguel. He reads them a lot, more then you would think he would. He starts to get a little nervous when he reads about the pregnancy growth stuff. It isn't like he really cares to much about Reader's body changing. He loves her at any weight, hes more worried about her health and comfortable.

His mom assures him that he was a pretty small baby and she hardly had any issues during her pregnancy with him. Her bump was really tiny. Besides the normal aches and pains of a regular pregnancy she was fine. Johnny sticks up for her saying he barley could tell she was pregnant even by the end. In some weird way he feels a little better after hearing that. Thinking maybe his poor pregnant wife wouldn't end up being to uncomfortable.

With in months of the first few appointments with the ob Reader is showing, big time.

Her belly is round and heavy, pushing her poor shirts out of the way no matter how many she trys on. She has to go out almost every month to get a new set of meturity shirts and pants. There is just no way she is fitting into any of her old stuff, even if she had just bought it a few weeks ago.

She is so uterly in love with her bump though. Cant keep her hands off her belly no matter how much she try’s. Always trying to hold and cradel it even when she doesn’t exactly have to. She’s all smiles and laughs during the pregnancy.

While Robby is just holding her and saying how sorry he is that he made her GET this way. But she cant care less about that. She just laughs at his constant comments and tells him that she loves her bump and their baby.

When she finally gives birth, she’s not surprised when the nurse hands her their baby and is told in a very happy voice “You have a healthy 10 pound 3 oz baby girl!” Which as Reader crying. She’s perfect in every way possible.

Robby is in love from the moment he catches a glimpse of her tiny chubby cheeks, wrapped up in a perfect blanket.

But of course the minute Miguel sees the little girl he's poking a little fun at the guy.

“This is your uncle Miguel, your going to be seeing a lot of him now that your out.” Robby whispers as he hands off the girl to a waiting Miguel. Miguel makes a tease when holding the girl, acting like she weighs a ton. Robby is rolling his eyes and Miguel shoulder bumps his side. He chuckles and bounces the bundle holding the new Keene girl. He says in a low voice “Wow look at her man! She's adorable dude. I can't believe you finally did it, you have a baby now.” Robby can't help but let a small smile slip into his lips. Looking down at his daughter in Miguel’s arm.

“Yeah well I can't believe it either, but I already love her so much.”

I actually really like this idea, I don't know why I made this so short. If anyone has any more ideas To go along with this please leave them in my inbox because I would love to make something a little longer with this idea in mind.

[froody]

Hello random person I follow, I just wanted to share in the squirrel meat trauma. I am from rural PA so it’s northern Appalachia. 1. One time my cousin ate raw squirrel meat as a kid and it was so nasty and she threw up so much she’s been a vegetarian ever since. She was five. Now she’s 34. 2. Cooked squirrel is…not great. I know you know this. I know this too. Intimately. 3. One time in high school a boy that sat by me in homeroom brought me a squirrel pelt for my birthday. He shot it that morning and just brought it to me in a big ziplock bag of salt to get the skin to dry out. He was a pretty normal guy. He’s an even more normal guy now. Sells insurance. Upper middle class. Bland as shit. What kind of hillbilly nonsense was that. 4. Now I live in a big city and am still the kind of nuts food hoarder that has a chest freezer in my apartment so I can have a shit ton of like, venison cabbage rolls and venison pierogi and frozen fresh corn and berries for pies and shit on hand because my hillbilly ass grandmothers drilled into me that you had to stock up for winter or your family might go hungry. I live alone. I’m never going hungry.

Omg. I think my grandpa made my cousin eat a squirrel heart once in line with tradition (or threatened to) but consuming raw mammal meat fills me with dread. High school home room boy was obviously trying to bring you dead animal parts to win your affection like a cat. We were a canning family, meat went in the freezer and fruit and veg got canned. And jerky. SOOO much venison jerky. I miss having a freezer full of venison but my grandpa has dementia and my uncle is in poor health so all of the hunters in my family no longer hunt. Also I’m terrified of chronic wasting disease, I know they say it isn’t transferable to humans but jfc prion diseases scare me.

People on that post are asking what squirrel tastes like and I’m like. The taste is not the major problem, the texture is. It tastes gamey and it’s stringy and dry. I’m sure it’s better in things like gumbos and other assorted stews but my grandmother only prepared it pan fried with white gravy and mash potatoes because my grandpa is a picky eater, and it was NASTYYYYYY. Walking in to find my grandma making biscuits and sausage gravy was like hitting the lottery, waking in to find my grandma making venison and gravy was okay, squirrel and gravy day was a travesty.

[fuck-customers]

I'm the anon who sent in an ask abt accidentally co-ordinating a mass call out, saw a lot of ppl wanting the know the aftermath so here's your updoot :>

All 3 of us did end up calling in (during the early morning, so we never had to directly talk to our boss, but the manager on at the time) plus another random 4th person, who wasn't apart of the original group and is just a regular sickie chucker. When my boss did see the emails that morning, he came to my station and had a mini freakout/breakdown to the opener. Ended up not being able to cover the midshift with a proper staff member who works in our department, so no prep was done or topped up all day; the opener was in on what we were doing and also didn't like the staff on that night so her attitude was very much 'sounds like a them problem'.

From what I heard of the close, it went about as well as I expected; a massive shitshow. The one coworker who I really don't like our of the 3 stooges ended up being forced into doing the close, and boy did she fuck it up. That next morning the place was a total trash heap- with shit still being dirty, equipment not being turned off, and just looking like crap in general. According to another coworker who was there briefly it wasn't even bc she was busy, she just never bothered to even START her closing duties or clean and let everything build right until the end. The opener was so mad they went and got my boss to come down and look at the place the morning after and he pulled lazy coworker into a meeting about it that night, saying there was no reason she had to stay back an hour past her clock out time and still leave the place looking like a dump. I had to work with her that next night and she was being really passive aggressive to me abt it, kept saying things like 'yeah it was so bad, if only SOMEONE didn't call in on us' (like get fucked, maybe if you didn't suck I wouldn't have had to prioritise my mental health).

There was an hour wait time basically all that night (something that shouldn't have happened, I saw the sales the from the night and it wasn't even that bad, they're all just that slow) and a shit ton of people complained about either not receiving their food, or the food they did get being cold/not cooked properly. The managers on that night had to get called over a bunch to do a lot of voids and refunds. One of my regulars who was in that night said things didn't even look busy, the person on close just spent more time leaning around or freaking out then actually doing anything.

As for myself and the 2 others who called in, we all had a really good day off. The midshift was telling me how they spent the day relaxing and even got themself a little spa day, I ended up catching up on some chores work had severely pushed back and the other chick just relaxed at home all night. No one walked out and the place didn't burn down, so it's a little anti-climatic ik, but oh well. Good day for us, not so good for the others :3 It was nice at least that they got a taste of what we have to deal with whenever they're on.

Posted by admin Rodney

[heyitsmeyourfavoritechick]

⋆♱ 🕸 Scorpio observation 🕸 ♱⋆

𖤐 Pluto in scorpio had a rise between 1985-1995 of test-tube babies (my bf born in 87 was a test tube baby himself and had a surrogate mom.)

𖤐 1984 AIDS was discovered and announced by the health services.

𖤐 1987 the first heart-lung transplant and successful surgical operation of a separation of twins.

𖤐 1983 mobile genetic elements was discovered by Barbra’s McClintock (her moon is in Scorpio.)

𖤐 Scorpio has extreme intense emotions that aren’t for the faint of heart (aka air signs) only other water signs can hang and earth signs are they’re safe heaven.

𖤐 They’re emotions are the underbelly of the moon if we’re looking at all the water signs as a whole. But they hide it well keeping they’re true feelings hidden from everyone and everything.

𖤐 Like the shell of a scorpion they can bend and almost go flat and you could never shift them if they’re character. You could never fold them.

𖤐 Scorpio are ruthless about getting they’re “own” way.

𖤐 Usually moon in scorpio have a square face. At times scorpio are know to have direct eye contact and intense eyes, very piercing. Defined sharp face features, high nose or cheekbones, strong eyebrows or defined brows. Hair usually straight or dark.

𖤐 If a Scorpio women hair is normally dark and if she goes blonde, watch tf out, she WILL eat your heart out.

𖤐 Known for the intensity of their eyes but if they have a crush on someone they can’t look at them fully, but if they’re in the same room as them they take looks at they’re crush all the time. (Trust me, we notice as the crush)

𖤐 If your Saturn is in Scorpio you are a force of personality and you can easily control other to “join your side” and the the “leader” of your own team/group. (Very cultish of you.) but you can only unlock this if you stop being shy and gain confidence, break all those internal walls and show people what you’re all about!! (I’m routing for you!)

𖤐 But within Saturn in Scorpio this placement can create love affairs or affairs in general, scandals and tons of secrets you keep or other keep of you.

𖤐 Don’t be surprised if you had rumors or gossip about you at one point. (The talk of the group chat)

𖤐 You attract secret love affairs that are prone to your downfall and with backstab you or betray you at some point.

𖤐 When they were young they had some kind of health problem or visit the ER once in they’re life or maybe had a near life death experience.

𖤐 I don’t know why a Scorpio feels so alone with a lot of people want to be with them, or be them or be on top of them (;

𖤐 Without them there wouldn’t be pain there would be the feeling of sorrow, they feel what we don’t want to feel. And that within itself is powerful.

[jimblejamblewritings]

love letters and second sons | part 2.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

Eloise left to go right across the street while you followed the rest of the family into the dining room. It had been so long since you had a formal sit down breakfast with your family. Your siblings just couldn’t be bothered to come from wherever they were — sometimes in the same house but they still didn’t show. Your father and mother couldn’t make it most of the time. The dining room table could be very lonely sometimes. 

You thanked Colin as he pulled out a chair for you before sitting down. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you passed the decorated teapot to Daphne before reaching for the small jug of cream. The Bridgertons were very invested in palace life and wanted to know whatever you were allowed to tell them about. You looked up from your coffee when Eloise came back with Penelope Featherington. 

Smiling at Penelope, you handed her the box so you wouldn’t forget before you left. Her face dropped. 

“What is it?” 

“Oh, I don’t want to burden the princess with frivolous matters. We have an addition to our house. My cousin, Marina Thompson has come to stay for the season. But no matter, she can wear my dress. I have plenty already.” 

You shook your head. “No matter how frivolous they may be, your problems are the Crown’s problems. I will return tomorrow with another dress for Miss Thompson. Besides, each piece has been chosen specifically for each person. How could Miss Thompson possibly look good in a dress meant to make you look good?” 

Penelope smiled. “Is it alright if I open it here?” 

“Of course, Pen,” Anthony said. 

She carefully placed the lid of the box on the ground and ruffled through the pieces until she found the dress with her name pinned on it. She pulled out a dress of emerald green, just emerald green. No patterns insight. The sleeves were flatter than the balloon sleeves normally worn but that was because they were sheer with beading on them. 

“Wow. It is beautiful.” 

“The princess will be glad to hear that you like it. Now, I am very sorry but I have to go now. A midmorning promenade cannot be missed.” 

Everyone stood up when you did. 

“Well, yes, of course,” Violet said. “Will you return for breakfast tomorrow? Or whenever is a good time for you?” 

You weren’t stupid. Either the Dowager Viscountess wanted your fake persona to marry her son — probably the third son, Colin, since you were a valet. Or she wanted the princess to marry her son. In that case it must have been Anthony. You took your cloak from the footman it put it back on. 

“I shall see if I can appear tomor— this weekend. Before the Danbury ball, the family wants to go to the countryside. I shall be back here then.” 

“Lovely.” 

You stepped outside, taking the alleyways back to the palace. Pandora let out a breath when the painting finally moved. You stepped inside. 

“Have you been here the whole time?” 

“Yes, I have. Was your time outside fun?” 

“Absolutely, I will be doing it again later.” 

“What? Princess, please.” 

“Pandora, you don’t understand. It was amazing. One of the best times of my life.” 

“Y/N. What if your illness st—” 

“Then I shall deal with that when it happens. Oh, I met people. The houses in the ton are very nice.” 

“You went to someone’s house?” Pandora’s voice rose three octaves as she tried to stay quiet. 

“Just the Bridgertons. Their mother is very sweet. She invited me to a recurring breakfast whenever I have the time.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, and the rumors about them are true. The daughters are all beautiful. Their youngest son seems very nice.” 

“And the three eldest boys?” 

“Absolutely handsome. Especially the eldest.” 

The two of you giggled as you kept sharing what they looked like in person while you got ready for your promenade. The gardens were dreadfully boring but you felt better just thinking about going to the Bridgertons house next time. It could have been anyone but you were glad it was a large family and a family friend. Only your first day out and you already became acquainted with two families. That was a success in your book. 

~~~

“Princess! Princess Y/N! Your Highness!” 

You could hear the yelling down the hall. Looking over at your father, you smiled. 

“Thank you for talking with me about the ball, Mr. Jupiter. I think I should let them know I am alive.” 

“Go. I shall still be here.” 

You shimmied out from under the bed, George laughing at you the entire time. The bed wasn’t your favorite place to be but it was your father’s favorite place. You preferred the wardrobe. Swinging open the door, you spotted Brimsley running down the hall. 

“I’m right here!” 

He turned with a quickness. “Oh thank God. The Queen and King are requesting you actually attend breakfast with them instead of in the kitchens or your room.” 

“Father? How could he tell you? He’s right he—” 

“Yes. He usually stays in his wing. He came down earlier this morning.” 

You looked back at your bed. No one was there. George’s feet weren’t sticking out from the end of the bed. You bit your lip and didn’t say anything, choosing just to follow Brimsley to the dining room. If anyone found out you had a fit then there was no hope of your mother letting you go anywhere. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Whenever you were anxious or stressed, a fit was bound to happen. Maybe you should have been taking your medicine. But it didn’t make you feel good at all. Tomorrow you’d ask for a change in medicine or doctor.

Your father looked better when you reached downstairs, actually cognizant, and your mother seemed happy. None of your other siblings were there. Pulling out your chair you sat down. The conversation went in one ear and out the other. You answered where necessary and that was about it. You needed to be perfect. When there was a lull in the talking, you found the perfect opportunity to speak. 

“Mother, may I go to Lady Danbury’s ball?” 

“No.” 

“I promise I will be on my be—” 

“No.” 

“If I have a fit then I will go stra—” 

“Y/N, do not make me repeat myself.” 

“But I just want to know why? All of my brothers and sisters were allowed to introduce themselves well before this age. Why am I still waiting?” 

“Dear, we’ve been over this.” 

“But Edward and Sophia both have the same illness and they were all—” 

“Because no one is as bad as yours!” Charlotte looked up from her plate when you grew silent. She sighed at the sight of your crestfallen face. “Y/N, dear, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m only talking about your illness, not you as a person… give me four months. Four months to prepare everything, then I will let you go, whether an incident happens or not. Just follow the rules and keep yourself safe.” 

“Thank you, Mother. I do have one more question.” 

“Yes?” 

“May I stay at Kew?” 

“Kew?” Both your mother and father said at the same time. 

“I have incidents whether I am here or with Father or by myself. We don’t have strong evidence that anything makes it better or worse. Kew is far enough that I’m not tempted by the city but close enough that I will not miss it. And I can still speak to the people.” 

In reality it’s because your parents never went to Kew. You wanted privacy and to not be under such a watchful eye. And if you could bring your court then absolutely no one would find out that you went into the city. 

Charlotte gave George a look. “Yes, the people do seem to love your letters. Okay, alright. I will allow you to stay at Kew but your father and I and your physician will be coming every Sunday to check on you. Brimsley and Reynolds will be going with you.”  

“Okay.” 

Buckingham wasted no time packing your things and taking them to Kew after the Danbury ball. You flopped onto your bed, happy to be left alone finally. Only half of your court came with you to Kew. The others were “dismissed” for the season — you wouldn’t need them again until you introduced yourself to society. Really you just needed them to stay at Buckingham and report to you what was happening. Naturally, Pandora came to Kew. 

The home looked just the same as when you were younger. The first thing you did was instruct every curtain to be open. The grounds were extensive and private. You weren’t in London but just outside of it. No one could see the place at all so there was no need to hide behind window decorations. 

“I should like dinner outside,” you said as you sat down in the short grassy part of the front lawn. 

“Outside?” 

“Yes. It’s very nice today. I would like to sit outside and eat and plan my new schedule. You and Reynolds can go to the cottage on the grounds. Turn left and you’ll see a bunch of cottages across the stream. Go to the third one. It’s behind a smattering of trees but the hedges there cover everything. You can see people before they see you.” 

“I’m sorry?” Brimsley’s eyes went wide. 

“I’ve known since I was five. I don’t think you two believed that a five year old could be observant but I was.” You turned back to look at him. “Well, I do not care. Brimsley, you should know I couldn’t possibly care about anything like that. With my issues I could never judge someone. Not for what you look like, your class, whoever you choose to pray to which is really none of my business. I don't like to sit in church anyway and much prefer prayer alone in the gazebo. It also doesn't matter who you... share a cottage with."

“Your Highness.” 

“I will keep your secret, Brimsley,” you reassured him. “Besides, when the time comes I will need for you to keep mine.” 

“Secrets? You have secrets? I didn't know... What would I be keeping?” 

“You’ll know it when it happens.” 

“Yes, Your Highness.” 

“Brimsley!” you yelled before he could step inside the house to tell them what you wanted to eat. “About what I said just then.” 

“It is no trouble at all, Your Highness.” 

“No, not my secrets… I would never tell anyone. Whether you kept my secret or not. I promise you that.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I will find a way to make it better.” 

Brimsley gave you a sad smile. “The effort alone is appreciated.” 

You gave him a determined look before returning to making your schedule. You didn’t have a need for full time tutors anymore, having finished formal schooling years ago.

So you put all your special tutors to come on Tuesday and Wednesday, your parents visiting on Sunday, you’d write all your letters on Thursday, and then waste away on Monday, Friday, and Saturday. A schedule your parents greatly approved of as they stated that you needed plenty of days to rest and not overwork yourself before you make the illness worse. Of course you didn’t tell them that those days were for going into the city. 

Monday morning you picked flowers to make a bouquet for the Featheringtons since you had only met one of them in person. Not that you needed it but you opened your book of flowers to see the meanings. You did hope that flower language would catch on more in a few years.

Taking your hand pruning shears, you started cutting both from the garden and the greenhouses. Basil for good wishes. White Carnations to wish a pure love. White Jasmine for amiability. Yellow lilies for happiness. Pink roses also for happiness. Bells of Ireland for good luck. You handed the first set of flowers to Brimsley before starting on individual bouquets for the four young women of the house. 

For Prudence: daisies for innocence, dandelions for faithfulness and happiness, peonies for a happy life and a happy marriage. For Phillippa: dandelions for faithfulness and happiness, fern for sincerity, honeysuckle for bonds of love. For Penelope: lady’s mantle for comfort, lily of the valley for sweetness, wallflower for faithfulness in adversity. For Marina: camellias for affection, lavender roses for enchantment, daffodils for good fortune.

You also collected flowers for the Bridgertons, small individual bouquets. Only two types of flower in each bouquet. For Violet: acacia for friendship and violet for her name.

For Anthony: acalia for temperance and agrimonia for gratitude. For Benedict: balm gentle for pleasantry and bearded crepis for protection. For Colin: chamomile for energy in adversity and coriander for hidden worth. For Daphne: daphne for her name and dandelions for happiness.

For Eloise: elderflower for zealousness and elephant’s ear for good luck. For Francesca: fern leaves for fascination and flower-of-an-hour for delicate beauty. For Gregory: garden chervil for sincerity and geranium, scarlet color, for comfort. For Hyacinth: hawthorn for hope and hyacinth for her name. 

“This should do.” 

“Shall we send them now?” 

“Oh, no, Brimsley. I shall take them with me.” 

“With you?” he squeaked. 

“Yes. I assume now would be a good time as ever to divulge my secret to you and Reynolds. Pandora already knows. I go out to see the ton. I have already done this a few times now.” 

Reynolds and Brimsley looked like they were going to faint. You laughed as you took your cloak from Pandora. You had no concern with anyone finding out since the two men in front were still in the gardens instead of running back to Kew to pen a letter. 

“Please ready the carriage. I’ve already missed breakfast as it is, I don’t want to be any later.” 

The only two things that freaked out your valets even more were entirely your fault as well. Reynolds stuttered through confusion when you refused the mask he was about to hand you. Brimsley actually did faint when you got out of the carriage before reaching the Bridgerton house. You turned around when he came to again. 

“The carriage is too recognizable. Until I get something more plain th—” 

“Just say the princess gave it to you for business affairs!” Brimsely yelled so loudly that you were concerned someone would hear it. 

For a moment you were ready to ignore his plea but then you realized he was right. Plus, you did already set up that poor women and rich women were treated equal in your court — something that was true but you only had three lower class women in your court to begin with. You got back into the carriage, knee bouncing the entire way. 

Peering out the window, you spotted Marshall. He titled his head a bit as you turned around, seemingly scolding someone inside, tilting even more when you walked in the opposite direction of their house. An older woman greeted you at the door of the Featherington home. You repeated the same thing you told Marshall the first time you came to the Bridgerton family. 

“Please come in. They’re in the drawing room, now… Ma’am, a visitor.” 

You curtsied as you entered their drawing room, waving to Penelope. “Hello… Woah, there are a lot of men. I’m sorry I was unaware we had already begun calling.” 

Lady Featherington put on her best smile. “Yes, what is it?” 

“Right. I am the Young Princess’ lady in waiting. She has made bouquets for you all. Well, as well as bouquets for the Bridgertons but rest assured I know exactly which ones belong to you.” 

The Featheringtons looked more than pleased to be receiving flowers after dresses, especially Lady Featherington. All the suitors were looking at them like winning prizes. To be favored by the princess is to have everyone’s hand in your lap and every name on your dance card. You read out what each flower meant and gave them a card that had them written down in case they were to forget. 

“Thank you so much, Miss?” 

“Beckett.”

“Miss Beckett. Please inform the princess that we are forever grateful for such a thoughtful gift. If it is no trouble would you like some biscuits or tea?” 

You decided to stay for a few minutes. Besides, watching suitors fall over their feet to impress women seemed like a very entertaining morning. Thanking the old woman for the tea, you took a sip before setting down the cup when you noticed Colin. He waved to you before making a bored face.

Clearly, he hadn’t been the first one to arrive for calling. You supposed that was the issue with all four of your girls out at once. There was only one drawing room so all of their suitors would have to wait their turn even if they were there for a different girl, at least until Lord Featherington came home and then maybe he could chaperone outside in the garden. You now understood why the Bridgertons were okay with Eloise delaying her debut. Focusing on only one woman is plenty enough.

Daphne had written to you that she had received no callers but none of the other Bridgertons had spoken about calling or the marriage mart at all. You only looked up from the mess of suitors when Eloise arrived, pulling up a chair at the small table you and Penelope were sitting at. Pen tapped your shoulder. 

You looked down at the overgrown rat in her arms. It was your turn to mind the dog that one of the gentlemen calling thought would be appropriate as a gift. Rolling your eyes, you took it anyway and began bouncing it like a child. At least it was a very calm dog. 

Your two friends laughed as you jumped when another gentleman began reciting a poem very loudly. Everyone was starting to fall asleep. His performance was both bad and boring, a combination you were hoping couldn’t be accomplished today. The sound of Lady Featherington’s clapping was the only thing that woke everyone up. She all but pushed the men out, saying the girls had seen enough suitors today. You frowned at her telling the gentlemen to say goodbye to even Penelope. Even? They should just be saying goodbye because she was a lady and in the house. Colin came over to you guys. 

“A most wretched sonnet indeed.” 

You laughed before standing up to leave with him, trying not to eavesdrop on their conversation. The two of them had such a close bond. You were sure that they’d end up with each other. He was probably here for her, waiting for a chance when Marina’s suitors were done. Handing Colin his flowers, you abandoned him for the drawing room of his house — pausing in your tracks when you saw a man you didn’t recognize. 

Violet jumped up along with Hyacinth and Francesca. “Oh, Miss Beckett, hello. We weren’t expecting you after you missed breakfast.” 

“Yes, I was preoccupied with the princess. I’m sorry am I intruding?” 

“No.” Daphne all but ran to meet you. “What do you have with you?”  

“The princess made bouquets.” You leaned in close. “I am very sorry about what Whistledown wrote. You didn’t deserve that. Perhaps flowers can cheer you up?” 

“Thank you so much.” 

“Where are the others? I shall give these to them then promptly return.” 

“Yes, please do,” Daphne said before having to return to her caller. 

Violet took her flowers from you. “Gregory is in the garden or with his brothers. More than likely his brothers. They are either in…” 

“Yes?” 

“Well they are in their rooms but I can’t just let you go in alo— It’s much too dangerous for a woman. The ton wo—” 

“I don’t see why I cannot seeing as I am the princ—” you stopped yourself. “Uh, the princess’ valet. I’m on official business from her and where she can go, I can go.” 

She still seemed unsure. 

“Besides, I am not a lady.” 

At that, Violet let you go upstairs but her face didn’t relax on any of the tension it held. You held onto the wooden railing as you skipped up the steps. You realized that you should have asked Violet which rooms were theirs. But it was too late now. Going back down would just be a matter of inconvenience and take longer in your return to Daphne’s aid. And not to mention, you were a princess. You didn’t need permission to enter anywhere, it was just polite to ask. Opening each door, you sighed in relief when one finally led to a bedchamber with people inside. Anthony looked up, setting down one of his many ledgers. 

“Beckett, what are you doing here?” 

At the sound of your name Gregory, who had been sitting on his older brother’s bed as he engrossed himself in some reading, looked up. “Beckett!”  

You handed them both the bouquets. “Courtesy of the princess, not my doing.” 

They chuckled as they took their bouquets from your arms. You heard the door creak behind you as it opened more. Turning, you came face to face with the second eldest Bridgerton. Benedict smiled. 

“I knew I heard Gregory call for you.” 

“Here. For you.” 

“Thank you. How long will you be staying?” 

“For dinner but then I must leave afterwards. So, what shall we do up here?” 

“Up here?” Anthony raised his eyebrows. “Alone? Miss Beckett, I do not think it… it is improper for us to be alone with you.” 

You scoffed. “Impropriety.”  

“It is true.”

“Firstly, I am not exactly bound by your rules of society. Second, we aren’t alone unless you are insinuating that anything would happen because you either can’t control yourself or are oddly content to share me with your brother.” You enjoyed watching them both stutter through a reply. 

“But if someone were to see us.”

“Does this window face the front of the street?” 

“No.” 

“Can anyone see anything in the back?” 

“No.” 

“Then no one is to see anything. Especially when nothing is happening. And lastly, I am not unchaperoned.”  

“You aren’t?” 

You pointed to the youngest Bridgerton in the room. “Gregory is not a man but a child. Therefore someone who is not an available bachelor is watching and supervising us.” 

He grinned, not even caring that he was called a child. “Yeah. I’m very good at watching.” 

You could do nothing but laugh as you flopped over Anthony’s bed and asked Gregory to hand you a book he was finished with.

Benedict blinked. “I guess I cannot argue with that. I’ll go get my charcoals and come back.” 

“Ah, right, but first let me eavesdrop on Daphne and Nigel. Almost forgot.” 

“Lord Berbrooke?” 

“Don’t make me laugh by giving him a title.”

When you returned, the boys had found their way into a comfortable silence. They barely acknowledged your presence when you sat down. Per Anthony’s request, the door didn’t just stay unlocked or ajar but completely open. Benedict looked away from his paper and at you. 

“What do you mean you aren’t bound by rules of society?” 

“I said your rules.” 

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, then. Our rules."

“The rules of the upper class and the ton. I am bound by royal rules and royal rules only which you’d be surprised to find are very different from the rules of the ton… I should suggest to the princess that she must write about those rules.” 

“And what are royal rules then?” 

“The only one that pertains to you is that it isn’t a crime for a royal or a member of their court to be unchaperoned while around the opposite sex.” 

Violet decided to go upstairs after seeing Lord Berbrooke out their front door, utterly exhausted. She just needed a few moments of rest before going back to Daphne. Passing by her son’s room, she paused. Anthony was at his desk working, Gregory was sitting at the head of the bed reading, you laid flopped across it with several things around you, and Benedict was sitting on the floor leaning against the side of the bed with his art supplies spread out all around. The sight could be considered improper but Violet refused to interrupt. 

“Anthony, come look at Benedict’s work and tell him it is better than he gives himself credit for.” 

Violet watched her son take his ledgers and come sit by Benedict, who had cleared enough of his supplies away for his brother, right underneath where you were laying. Not caring, you rested your chin on top of his head so you wouldn’t lose balance as you pointed to where you liked Benedict’s sketch. You couldn’t help but laugh as Anthony stiffened up for a moment. 

“You’re worse than Brimsley. I already told you that I am not a lady. Calm yourself.” 

“Brimsley?” 

“The Queen’s temporarily former valet. He moved to Kew with us.” 

“The family now stays at Kew?” 

“No, just the princess. It was a gift of sorts as she’s the only child to live there. It is a chance to live alone and like a proper adult before her introduction to society.” 

Gregory became interested once again. “We’ll get to see the princess soon? When?” 

“Roughly four months if all goes well… You know, I must take you all to Kew one day.” 

“That sounds lovely.” 

Violet smiled as she continued heading to her destination. You and Anthony seemed to be headed towards friendship. If you really did take him to Kew then he would get to meet the princess alone.

(part 3)

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for picking my girlfriend over my friend?

So I had this friend that I'll call M (teen, F) who dated my now girlfriend, W (teen, F) for three months like six months ago. Bad start, I know.

I had known M since middle school, but we weren't really friends until we both went to the same highschool, because we were like. The only ones from our middle school who were there, and we'd stayed sort of friends until this year (junior year), when I made friends with W, who she wasn't dating at the time.

She started dating W, and it was going alright, neither of them were in Love but they definitely liked each other, and W is Extremely stubborn and wants to be helpful, so she was trying to make it work. But all of Ws friends HATED M and it caused a ton of problems, so M broke up with her and started avoiding her. Around this time M also quit all hobbies and blamed W for it.

M runs through friends FAST. She views them as pretty disposable, good until they piss her off or she pisses them off, and then she drops them because she can always find new friends. She has a long history of being very toxic (blaming mental health issues on friends, flipping opinions on a dime, deciding you are a horrible person who she hates for no clear reason, etc. all of which she did to W). I don't view friends like this at all, and will cling to them pretty hard if I like them.

My friends and other partner, B (teen, Nonbinary) also hated M and really thought I shouldn't be friends with her. She could be mean to me, but also she had dropped all her other friends and I didn't want to leave her on her own. So I tried to stay friends with her, and maintain my friendship with W.

But M at one point asked me to distance myself from W and I said No, and she got really annoyed at me about it, eventually ending our friendship, but trying to stay friendly acquaintances.

And apparently, W and I had never seemed like just friends, according to everyone I'd talked to. W's friends were convinced we were at least fucking, B said that we'd been basically dating for months, and finally we started dating about two months ago. This was when M approached me again to ask why I was dating W, saying it felt like a betrayal and a stab in the heart, and I'm just really confused.

I don't think I'm the asshole and please ask any questions you have in the comments, I'll reply, because I think this might be incomprehensible, but yeah. I'm just confused.

[childlikegoblinqueen]

SCOM WRITERS NOTES! For Criminal…

Darius and Willow (and Hunter)

First? Some mental health stuff.

I’m back and my brain is working overtime not to panic and obsess about things that are currently out of my control.

Not easy. I’m sick to my stomach most days and raising my kids who are now WAY more aware than they were when they were literal babies in 2016 and have a lot of thoughts about *things* takes up a lot of headspace.

I’m going to continue to (try) distracting myself with fan fiction and writing notes… but I may be slower because of everything.

So see below for a few notes about Criminal and how Darius’ (and Steve’s) actions after Willow’s actions frame things.

Darius’ track record of truth versus omissions of full truth is BAD in SCOM. I know that a LOT of folks thought I was deliberately anti Darius etc and that is something that they are entitled to believe, but certainly I was working more with the idea that people are messy AF, especially people coming from an underground resistance to a fascist government, and Darius had other hang ups considering his own relationship with Hunter’s predecessor.

Darius made bad decisions that he meant well by at the time and sometimes even overcompensated to fix which ended up costing more to begin with. This is a REALLY HUMAN PROBLEM. He chose to dive back into government (and mend and reform it) which means it was IMPOSSIBLE for him to share certain things with others on the outside.

In SCOM Hunter, coming from the place he had been all his life needed distance from anything involving government. The two things just couldn’t fit together and as Darius had admitted (and Bria twisted) he’d felt sick when he saw Hunter realizing just how badly he’d failed at not mentoring him, but being in his life.

That said? Everything he had done (for better or for worse) was to protect Hunter and keep him out of government affairs so he could remain a private citizen.

And a big one, that displayed a TON of bias was how he handled the situation between Willow and Kikimora.

He has a lot of compassion for Willow and recognizes very well how someone can be pushed SO FAR PSYCHOLOGICALLY when it comes to the thought of a loved one being hurt and abused.

Further? Kikimora (unlike Hunter and Willow) was a grown ass adult when this occurred (more on that later in the story).

Torture is NOT Willow’s go to by any means. She felt outside her own body when she acted as she had. A feeling both Darius (and Steve) are likely to understand. And they believe she deserves a chance at healing.

So taking her memory and getting her into therapy was part of protecting Willow and Hunter at the time. Not only did he see her as a child who couldn’t process her emotions over not being able to protect someone she loved, but he saw her actual horror at her actions.

This shouldn’t be definitive of her future anymore than Hunter should be defined by his time as a child under Belos.