#a (not so) little introduction of Eloise
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myokk · 6 months ago
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I had so much fun writing this up as I drank my coffee this morning, thanks for making the templates @kiwiplaetzchen 🥹🙏
A little bit of backstory for Eloise - I’ll do an actual drawing etc etc in the future but for now if you’re interested!!:
Eloise has a brother, Leonard (Leo) who is a year older than her (I want to draw him soon!!) and her parents are both (unfortunately 😔🙏) still very much alive. If the family had continued to the 1930s, they would DEFINITELY have been part of the Sacred 28, making it the Sacred 29 instead. Her father was an only child so he inherited everything, and her mother is Elladora Babbit née Black, the woman who started the Black family tradition of beheading useless house elves😭 (and yes unfortunately that makes Headmaster Black Eloise’s uncle😫).
Eloise was kept a secret from the rest of magic society her whole life. In my imagination, the pureblood families have so much inbreeding amongst themselves that it’s not uncommon for them to give birth to squibs. Part of pureblood culture is not announcing they’ve given birth to a child until they’ve shown signs of magic - normally around 3/4 years old at most. When Eloise never showed ANY signs of magic, she was just their shameful secret. On her eleventh birthday when it was all but confirmed she was a squib, she was burned off the family tree and spent the next five years at a muggle finishing school. Always looking to take advantage of whatever they could get, however, Eloise’s parents arranged a marriage between her and the firstborn son of a wealthy muggle landowner when she came of age.
Her family had no idea that she was admitted to Hogwarts (they cut off all ties to her and disowned her) and Leo, who had always been fiercely protective of her growing up was simultaneously devastated and ecstatic that he could see his sister again. It’s been really hard to repair the relationship though, as there is a lot of resentment that they cannot get over even though they want to😭. And, for as much as her parents dictated everything about how her life has gone, Eloise can’t help but try to work hard to get their love and approval as it’s all she ever thought she wanted. And now that she’s in a position to become the daughter they’ve always desired, she feels a lot of resentment towards herself. She feels as if she’s betraying the young girl who was abandoned by her family, because she wants their approval so badly (it will take a while for her to get over this😔🙏)
In terms of the personality I did it a bit like the sims where I just max things out bc I think everything in the middle is boring jajajaja. But:
Shy: not shy in the sense she can’t talk to other people and she isn’t necessarily socially awkward. She just doesn’t always know what to say and will remain silent if she thinks she has nothing to add to a conversation instead of yapping away (BUT unfortunately rambles and over explains herself to not be misunderstood when she does talk, THANKS narcissistic mother), and normally she wishes people would ignore her. When the Daily Prophet article came out about her “miraculous” recovery and introduction to magical society she HATED it & she HATES all of the people trying to talk to her and befriend her.
Active: NOT active as in super energetic. She just wakes up really early and always needs to keep herself busy. She gets anxious if she doesn’t have anything to do - but, she includes thinking as doing something, and often retreats into her thoughts and doesn’t realize when people are talking to her.
I think grouchy and nice can exist together so with this one I put it in the middle. She’s both simultaneously😭
Aaaand with cowardly/brave, she thinks she is really cowardly for going back to her parents so easily and wanting their love so badly, and hates herself for it (not realizing it’s an accumulation of a lifetime of emotional trauma). But lots of times when things get very high-stakes she will jump in and do incredibly reckless things without thinking of the consequences, although if she stopped to think before she acted she would definitely NOT do them. So maybe brave in actions, cowardly on the inside (IDK)
If you read all of this I love you!! I want to share more about her but this was getting crazy long jajajajajajaja😇🙏
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tulipatheticee · 4 months ago
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Hi! I had an idea of Eloise x fem reader, reader being Queen Charlotte’s daughter. They get caught together, and readers mother suggests marriage. With that Eloise and reader start the acceptance of the same sex love/marriage.
love story e.b
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eloise bridgerton x queen charlottes daughter! reader
synopsis; In the heart of Regency London, Princess Y/N, daughter of Queen Charlotte, and Eloise Bridgerton find themselves entangled in a clandestine romance amidst the glittering balls and gossip of high society. Their love defies conventions and faces scrutiny, ultimately prompting Queen Charlotte to propose a marriage that could change society's perception of same-sex love forever.
word count; 5.3k
master list
a/n; i went a little ham on this one, i was not joking when i said wlw unlocks something inside of me
as always, kinda proof read, kinda not :p
So I sneak out to the garden to see you
We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew
So close your eyes
Escape this town for a little while, oh oh
In the bustling midst of London’s social season, Queen Charlotte's daughter, Princess y/n, found herself at the centre of attention. Raised amidst the pomp and protocol of high society, she was no stranger to the expectations placed upon her. Attending debutante events was simply another facet of her role as the queen's daughter—a duty performed with grace and an impeccably polished facade.
It was at one such event, a gathering of debutantes adorned in their finest, where y/n first noticed her. Eloise Bridgerton, amidst the sea of hopefuls vying for attention, stood out not just for her striking beauty but for an air of defiance that seemed to hover around her like an invisible shield. Eloise, with her quick wit and sharp tongue, had garnered a reputation as the most outspoken and unconventional of the Bridgerton siblings—a title she wore proudly, much to her mother Violet's simultaneous exasperation and admiration.
From across the room, y/n observed as Eloise engaged in animated conversation with other debutantes. There was a sparkle in her eye and a hint of mischief in her smile that drew y/n's attention irresistibly. Eloise's laughter, free and unbridled, cut through the polite chatter of the event like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room. For a moment, y/n found herself captivated, her gaze lingering longer than was strictly polite.
Meanwhile, Eloise, amidst the whirl of introductions and compliments, couldn't help but notice the queen's daughter. Elegant and composed, y/n exuded a quiet confidence that commanded attention without demanding it. Unlike the other debutantes who fluttered around Eloise, y/n stood apart, observing with an intensity that hinted at a keen intellect beneath her composed exterior.
Their eyes met briefly across the room—a fleeting moment charged with unspoken curiosity and intrigue. It was a simple exchange, unnoticed by the swirling crowd around them but leaving an indelible impression on both Eloise and y/n. In that brief encounter, something stirred, a silent recognition that hinted at possibilities yet unexplored.
The grand presentation at the Palace was a spectacle to behold. The ballroom was adorned with glittering chandeliers and opulent decorations, filled with the crème de la crème of London society. Eloise stood in line, fidgeting with her gloves as she prepared to be introduced. Her mother gave her a reassuring smile.
“Stand tall, Eloise,” Violet whispered. “This is your moment.”
As Eloise stepped forward, she caught a clearer sight of Princess Y/N, standing beside her mother. Their eyes met once again across the room, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Y/N’s gaze was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the intimidating grandeur of the palace. Eloise felt an inexplicable pull towards her, something she couldn’t quite understand.
Just as Eloise was about to be presented, the attention of the room shifted abruptly. The queens guards charging through the doors, whispers of “Lady Whistledown '' spread like wildfire, next thing you know, the queen is declaring she's seen enough and everyone is dismissed and Eloise found herself relieved of the spotlight as gossip overtook the ceremony. The mysterious writer had once again stolen the show, and Eloise couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the diversion.
'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter
And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"
But you were everything to me
I was beggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said
The opulent ballroom of Lady Danbury's estate shimmered with the flicker of candlelight and the murmur of polite conversation. Eloise Bridgerton, dressed in an exquisite gown of deep emerald silk that Lady Danbury had insisted upon, moved gracefully amidst the crowd, her gaze sweeping over the assembly of London's elite.
The event was a dazzling affair, attended by the highest echelons of society, each guest meticulously adorned in their finest attire. Yet amidst the glittering array of guests, Eloise's eyes sought out a familiar figure—Princess y/n, who stood with Queen Charlotte, radiating an air of quiet elegance that set her apart from the throng of debutantes.
Eloise couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation in her chest as she made her way towards y/n, navigating the maze of guests with practiced ease. Her heart raced with a mixture of nerves and excitement, unsure of how their conversation at Queen Charlotte's debutante event would influence their interaction tonight.
Meanwhile, y/n observed the revelry with a regal composure, her gaze occasionally drifting towards Eloise amidst the swirl of dancers and the lilting strains of the orchestra. The princess was acutely aware of the scrutiny she faced as Queen Charlotte’s daughter—the expectations of duty and decorum that shadowed her every move. Yet amidst the splendour of the ballroom, y/n found herself drawn to Eloise’s spirited presence and unguarded authenticity. 
Violet Bridgerton, determined to secure another diamond among her brood, guided Eloise through the throng of guests towards the queen and y/n. Eloise, begrudgingly adorned in an elegant gown befitting her station, maintained a facade of polite disinterest as Violet introduced her to the queen and her daughter.
"Your Majestys, may I present my daughter, Eloise Bridgerton," Violet announced with practised grace.
Y/n, acknowledging the introduction with a nod, offered a polite smile that barely concealed her curiosity. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Bridgerton," she greeted eloquently, her voice carrying a warmth that belied her royal stature.
Eloise, though outwardly composed, felt a rush of nerves mingled with an unexpected flutter of excitement. She had anticipated the formality of the introduction, yet y/n's presence seemed to alter the air around her, making her acutely aware of every gesture and fleeting expression.
"Likewise, Your Highness," Eloise replied with a hint of her trademark wit, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Though I must admit, I am more accustomed to lively debates than royal audiences."
Y/n's smile widened subtly, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "I look forward to those debates, Miss Bridgerton," she replied in kind, a gentle challenge underlying her words.
The exchange, though brief, left an impression on both women. For Eloise, accustomed to the constraints of societal expectations, y/n represented a refreshing departure—an enigma wrapped in regal poise and quiet strength. And for y/n, intrigued by Eloise's spirited demeanor and quick intellect, the encounter ignited a curiosity that lingered long after the ball had ended.
Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone
I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run
You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess
It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"
As the evening progressed, Eloise and y/n’s paths collided again near the elaborate dessert table adorned with crystal bowls of sugared fruits and delicate pastries. Eloise, emboldened by Lady Danbury’s encouraging nod from across the room, approached y/n with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, nerves tingling beneath her skin.
“Your Highness,” Eloise greeted warmly, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness despite her best efforts to appear composed.
y/n turned towards Eloise with a gracious smile, her eyes alight with genuine interest. “Miss Bridgerton,” y/n replied with a nod of acknowledgment, noting the subtle tension in Eloise’s stance.
Their conversation flowed with the ease of familiarity yet tinged with the underlying currents of unspoken desire and mutual intrigue. They exchanged pleasantries about the music, the decorations, and the latest society gossip, each word carrying a weight of unspoken meaning that hung between them like an invisible thread.
Eloise, ever the conversationalist, couldn’t resist steering the discussion towards a topic that had intrigued her since their first meeting. “Your Highness, I must admit, I found your observations on the latest literary sensation quite captivating,” she remarked, her tone light yet tinged with curiosity.
y/n chuckled softly, appreciating Eloise’s intellect and the genuine interest she showed in their previous conversation. “Ah, but Miss Bridgerton, I fear my views on literature may not always align with conventional wisdom,” y/n replied with a playful glint in her eyes.
Eloise leaned in slightly, her gaze locking with y/n’s in a moment of shared understanding. “Isn’t that the beauty of literature, Your Highness? It allows us to explore different perspectives and challenge our own beliefs,” she countered, her voice laced with a mixture of admiration and genuine curiosity.
Their banter continued late into the night, punctuated by shared laughter and stolen glances that hinted at a connection deeper than mere friendship. For Eloise, y/n represented a kindred spirit—a beacon of hope amidst the rigid expectations of London society. She found herself drawn to y/n’s quiet strength and unwavering authenticity, traits that resonated deeply with Eloise’s own aspirations and struggles.
In those stolen moments between dances, y/n found herself captivated by Eloise’s infectious enthusiasm and fierce determination. She admired Eloise’s courage to challenge societal norms and speak her mind, qualities that set her apart from the polished facades of London’s debutantes.
As the evening drew to a close, Eloise reluctantly bid y/n farewell with a promise to meet again soon. Their parting left y/n with a lingering warmth in her heart—a feeling that defied the constraints of duty and hinted at the possibility of something more.
Romeo, save me, they're tryna tell me how to feel
This love is difficult, but it's real
Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess
It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"
Eloise and y/n found themselves entangled in a web of conflicting emotions and societal expectations. Despite the undeniable chemistry that sparked between them at Lady Danbury's grand ball, both struggled to come to terms with their growing attraction.
In the days that followed the ball, Eloise couldn't shake the memory of y/n's enchanting smile and the way her eyes lit up with intelligence and charm. She found herself stealing glances at y/n across crowded ballrooms, each stolen glance fueling a mix of excitement and apprehension.
Meanwhile, y/n wrestled with her own tumultuous emotions. As Queen Charlotte's daughter, she was keenly aware of the scrutiny her actions faced. The prospect of scandal and disgrace haunted her thoughts, casting a shadow over her budding friendship with Eloise.
Their paths crossed again at another glittering social event, where Violet Bridgerton, ever the matchmaker, introduced Eloise to y/n in hopes of sparking a connection. Eloise's heart raced as she exchanged pleasantries with y/n, their conversation laced with a subtle undercurrent of tension and curiosity.
Later that evening, as they found themselves alone in a quiet corner of the ballroom, y/n couldn't help but voice her uncertainties. "Miss Bridgerton, do you ever feel... conflicted?" she asked tentatively, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.
Eloise hesitated, her mind racing with unspoken thoughts. "I... I suppose I do," she admitted softly, her gaze searching y/n's face for any sign of understanding. "This world we live in—it's so... unforgiving."
y/n nodded in silent agreement, her fingers nervously toying with the fabric of her gown. "Sometimes I wonder if... if we're meant to feel this way," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Eloise reached out, her touch gentle yet reassuring. "I don't have all the answers, Princess," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I know that when I'm with you, everything feels... different."
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Lady Danbury, who swept y/n away to greet other guests. Eloise watched as Lady Danbury whisked y/n away, her heart sinking with each step that carried them farther apart. Alone in the bustling ballroom, she found herself drawn to a quiet alcove, seeking refuge from the swirl of conversations and glittering chandeliers.
Leaning against a draped curtain, Eloise closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh. Thoughts of y/n consumed her mind, their unfinished conversation lingering like an unspoken promise in the air.
She traced the intricate pattern of her gown absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting back to y/n's earnest question. Do you ever feel... conflicted? And back to her own comment before the conversation ended, when I'm with you, everything feels... different. How would y/n have responded to that? Did she feel the same way, or was Eloise's heart leading her down a path fraught with uncertainty?
The memory of y/n's smile flickered in her mind—the way it lit up the room, reaching out to Eloise like a beacon in the darkness of societal expectations. They had danced around the edges of something profound, something that could alter the course of their lives forever.
Lost in her reverie, Eloise was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned to find Benedict Bridgerton, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Sister, are you all right?" he asked gently, his voice breaking through her thoughts.
Eloise managed a faint smile, though her heart still raced with unanswered questions. "I'm fine, Benedict," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Just... lost in thought."
Benedict studied her for a moment, his gaze searching. "Is it about the Princess?" he ventured cautiously, knowing his sister well enough to sense when something weighed heavily on her mind.
Eloise nodded slowly, unable to suppress a sigh. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "We were... talking. About feelings, I suppose."
Benedict arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Feelings?" he echoed, prompting Eloise to elaborate.
"I told her... how I feel when I'm with her," Eloise confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "But then Lady Danbury interrupted us, and I never got to find out how she feels."
Understanding dawned in Benedict's eyes as he took in Eloise's words. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Eloise, you know what they say about the young Princess," he said gently. "She's smart, perceptive. She'll understand."
Eloise managed a weak smile, grateful for her brother's reassurance. "I hope so," she murmured, her thoughts still lingering on y/n's last words to her.
As the ballroom bustled around them, Benedict offered his arm to Eloise. "Shall we join the others?" he suggested, his tone lightening with an attempt to lift her spirits.
Eloise nodded, drawing a deep breath to steady herself. "Yes, let's," she agreed, linking her arm with Benedict's. Together, they returned to the lively gathering, though Eloise's thoughts remained with y/n—wondering, hoping, and silently yearning for their next conversation.
I got tired of waiting
Wondering' if you were ever comin' around
My faith in you was fading
When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said
Days passed after the interrupted conversation at Lady Danbury's ball, each one stretching with anticipation and uncertainty for Eloise. She found herself eagerly attending every social event in hopes of catching another glimpse of y/n, her heart skipping a beat whenever their paths crossed across the crowded rooms.
It was at a smaller, more intimate gathering hosted by the Featheringtons that Eloise finally saw y/n again. The evening was alive with music and laughter, the air fragrant with the scent of gardenias and the promise of summer.
Eloise stood near the refreshment table, feigning interest in the punch bowl as she discreetly watched y/n across the room. y/n was engaged in conversation with Dowager Violet Bridgerton, their laughter mingling with the tinkling of crystal glasses.
Summoning her courage, Eloise took a deep breath and approached them. "Excuse me, Mama,  may I steal the Princess away for a moment?" she asked politely, her voice betraying none of the nervousness fluttering in her chest.
Violets eyes flickered mischievously as she glanced knowingly between Eloise and y/n. "Of course, Eloise," she replied with a knowing smile. "Take her—though I warn you, Her Royal Highness has been entertaining us all evening with her wit."
Eloise felt a rush of relief and gratitude towards her mother as y/n turned towards her, her expression lighting up with surprise and delight. "Miss Bridgerton," y/n greeted warmly, setting down her glass to face her fully. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight."
Eloise swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling the weight of her confession at Lady Danbury's ball. But still she continued to escort the Princess through the crowd until they were outside in the garden, under the nights sky, completely alone.
 "I wanted to apologise for our conversation being cut short," she began earnestly, meeting y/n's gaze with sincerity. "I... I meant what I said. About how I feel when I'm with you."
y/n's smile softened, her eyes holding a hint of something that made Eloise's heart skip a beat. "Miss Bridgerton,,," y/n replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper amidst the lively chatter around them. "I've been thinking about that conversation too."
Relief flooded through Eloise as she took a step closer to y/n, their proximity sparking a warmth that spread through her veins. "Really?" she asked, unable to contain the hope in her voice.
y/n nodded, her expression gentle yet filled with a quiet intensity that mirrored Eloise's own feelings. "Yes, really," she confirmed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Eloise's arm. "I didn't get to answer then, but... I feel something too."
Eloise's heart soared at y/n's words, her fears and uncertainties momentarily forgotten in the rush of emotions. "I'm glad," she murmured softly, her gaze locked with y/n's. "I wasn't sure how you'd feel, or... if we could even..."
Before she could finish, y/n leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Eloise's cheek in a tender gesture that sent a shiver down Eloise's spine. "I want to find out," y/n whispered, her breath warm against Eloise's ear. "If we could be something more."
Eloise's breath caught in her throat as she gazed into y/n's eyes, seeing her own hopes reflected back at her. Without hesitation, she reached up to cup y/n's cheek, her thumb caressing the soft skin beneath her touch. "I want that too, Your Highness" Eloise admitted softly, her voice filled with newfound courage and longing.
Y/N smilied, her eyes lighting up. “Please, call me Y/N. Titles are so tiresome, don’t you think?”
Eloise laughed softly. “Very much so. I find this entire season tiresome.”
In that stolen moment amidst the music and the soft glow of candlelight, Eloise and y/n leaned closer together, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken promises and the beginning of a love that dared to defy convention.
As they pulled away, breathless and smiling, Eloise felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Here, in the embrace of y/n's presence, she found not only acceptance but also the beginning of a journey she never dared to imagine—a journey of love, bravery, and the courage to be true to oneself.
They walked together in the garden, the conversation flowing easily. Eloise was captivated by Y/N’s intelligence and wit, and Y/N found Eloise’s rebellious spirit refreshing. As days turned into weeks, their friendship deepened, but so did the confusion. Can this go on forever?
Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone
I keep waiting for you, but you never come
Is this in my head? I don't know what to think
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the gardens of Bridgerton House. Eloise and y/n sat side by side on the swings, their feet lightly touching the ground, pushing back and forth in a gentle rhythm. The air was filled with the scent of blooming roses and the distant hum of London’s bustle, now just a distant murmur.
"I never imagined finding such peace in the heart of London," y/n remarked softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she swayed back and forth. Her eyes wandered over the garden, where vibrant blooms danced in the gentle breeze, their colours vivid against the backdrop of the setting sun.
Eloise, her legs stretched out in front of her, kicked lightly against the earth to keep the swing moving. "It's my favourite place to escape," she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced at y/n. "Thank you for visiting me here."
Y/n turned to Eloise, her gaze filled with an unspoken tenderness. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity. She reached out, her hand finding Eloise’s, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. The simple touch sent a jolt of warmth through them, grounding them in their shared moment.
A comfortable silence settled over them, the only sounds the creak of the swings and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Eloise closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the serenity of the garden and the presence of y/n beside her.
"Do you ever wonder what the future holds for us?" y/n asked softly, her voice filled with curiosity as she turned to Eloise, who was still lost in the quiet of the moment.
Eloise opened her eyes, her gaze drifting towards the horizon where the sun was painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. "I used to worry about it," she admitted, her fingers absently tracing patterns on y/n’s palm. "But now... I like to think that as long as we're together, we can face anything."
Y/n's smile was gentle, her eyes reflecting the twilight’s colours as she leaned her head against Eloise’s shoulder. "I believe that too," she murmured, her voice steady with a quiet confidence. "We'll navigate this world together, Eloise."
In the tranquil embrace of Bridgerton House's garden, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the blossoming love between them, Eloise and y/n found solace in each other’s company. The swings moved back and forth, a gentle testament to their growing bond, anchoring them in a love that defied expectations and embraced the courage to live authentically.
He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring
And said, "Marry me, Juliet
You'll never have to be alone
One afternoon in the opulent drawing room of the palace, y/n sat with Eloise, their conversation light and filled with quiet laughter. The warmth of the fire crackled in the background, casting flickering shadows on the richly adorned walls. Y/n leaned close to Eloise, sharing a private moment, both girls peppering kisses over each other's faces, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's embraces. 
Unbeknownst to them, Queen Charlotte had returned earlier than expected, her steps muffled by the thick carpet. She paused in the doorway, her sharp eyes catching the intimate exchange between y/n and Eloise. For a moment, she simply observed, her mind racing with the implications.
"Miss Bridgerton!" Queen Charlotte's voice cut through the air, startling both young women. Eloise turned pale, her heart sinking as she realised they had been caught. Y/n sat frozen, her eyes wide with apprehension.
"Mother," y/n stammered, attempting to gather her thoughts. "I can explain—"
Queen Charlotte held up a hand, her expression unreadable. "There is no need for explanations, my dear. It seems the situation has clarified itself." She stepped further into the room, her gaze shifting between y/n and Eloise.
Eloise stood, her nerves taut with uncertainty. "Your Majesty, please understand—"
"I understand more than you might realise," Queen Charlotte interrupted gently, her tone softening slightly. She approached Eloise, studying her with a discerning eye. "Miss Bridgerton, do you care for my daughter?"
Eloise swallowed hard, meeting Queen Charlotte's gaze squarely. "Yes, Your Majesty," she admitted, her voice steady despite her nerves.
"And you, y/n?" Queen Charlotte turned to her daughter, her expression softening. "How do you feel about Miss Bridgerton?"
Eloise hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Mother, I... I care for Eloise deeply. More than I ever thought possible."
Queen Charlotte nodded, her features reflecting a mix of concern and contemplation. "Love comes in many forms," she said finally, her voice carrying wisdom earned through years of navigating societal expectations. "It is clear to me that your feelings are genuine."
Eloise blinked back tears, overwhelmed by her mother's unexpected understanding. Y/n reached out, gently squeezing Eloise's hand in silent support.
“But regardless, you both are participating in acts only those who are married should be. I will not accept a scandal.”
"Mama, what should we do? We can’t imagine life apart!" y/n asked, her voice tinged with hope and apprehension.
Queen Charlotte smiled softly, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Perhaps it is time we consider a different kind of arrangement," she mused, her mind already formulating a plan. "One that will allow you both to live authentically, without the confines of societal scandals, the only right choice in these conditions." She paused (dramatic effect no?)
“Marriage.”
And so, in that serene drawing room of the palace, a new chapter began for y/n and Eloise—a chapter marked by acceptance, love, and the courage to challenge tradition.
I love you and that's all I really know
I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress
It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"
In the warm, inviting drawing room of Bridgerton House, Eloise nervously clasped y/n's hand. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding an air of solemnity to the moment. Around them, the Bridgertons—Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Daphne, and the younger siblings—gathered, curiosity etched on their faces.
Eloise took a deep breath, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "I... We have something to share," she began, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.
Anthony, ever the observant eldest brother, arched an eyebrow. "Go on, Eloise. What is it?"
Eloise glanced at y/n, drawing strength from their presence. "y/n and I... We've decided to take a step forward together. We're engaged."
There was a collective gasp of surprise from her family. Daphne's eyes widened, her hand instinctively reaching for Benedict's. Benedict leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. Colin adjusted himself, trying to process the unexpected news.
With the initial shock beginning to subside, the Bridgertons exchanged bewildered glances, each processing the news in their own way.
"Wait, you two are... engaged?" Colin asked, his voice filled with surprise.
Daphne, recovering from her initial shock, spoke gently. "But... how? I mean, are you even allowed to... marry?"
Eloise smiled, a touch of defiance in her eyes. "Yes, Daphne. Queen Charlotte herself has given us her blessing."
Colin, adjusting to the news, nodded thoughtfully. "I see. It's certainly unconventional, but if Her Majesty approves..."
Anthony, ever the pragmatist, chimed in. "Well, then. It seems we are in uncharted territory, but as long as you're both certain..."
Eloise and y/n exchanged a glance, their bond palpable. "We are," y/n affirmed softly.
"Eloise, are you certain about this?" Francesca asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Eloise nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, Francesca. I've never been more certain about anything in my life."
Benedict, always the voice of reason, spoke up next. "Well, this is quite unexpected, but if it's what makes you both happy..."
Hyacinth interjected, unable to contain her excitement. "Eloise, this is incredible news! I didn't think you'd ever settle down."
Anthony, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "Eloise, Princess Y/N, if this is your decision, then you have my support. Always."
Eloise squeezed y/n's hand tighter, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. "Thank you, Anthony."
As the evening wore on, the atmosphere shifted from confusion to acceptance. The Bridgertons, while initially taken aback, found themselves embracing Eloise and y/n's decision. It was a moment that marked not only a new chapter in Eloise's life but also a testament to the changing times—a time when love was beginning to transcend boundaries and expectations.
Outside, the bustling city of London continued its rhythmic pulse, unaware of the quiet revolution unfolding within the walls of Bridgerton House—a revolution led by two hearts brave enough to defy convention and choose love, in all its unexpected forms.
'Cause we were both young when I first saw you
Eloise stood by the window of their home, gazing out at the bustling streets of London. It had been nearly a year since their marriage, and the city seemed to hum with a different energy. Change was in the air, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in what she and y/n had accomplished together.
The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Beside her, y/n stirred in their sleep, their features softened in the gentle dawn. Eloise smiled fondly, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from y/n's face. They had been through so much together—the secret glances, the stolen kisses, the fear of discovery—and yet, here they were, stronger than ever.
Their marriage had sparked conversations across London society. Some viewed it with curiosity, others with disdain, but Eloise and y/n had found unexpected allies among their peers. Lady Danbury, always a force to be reckoned with, had become a staunch supporter, using her influence to deflect any lingering whispers of scandal.
As Eloise reflected on their journey, she couldn't help but marvel at how far they had come. They had faced challenges and uncertainties, but through it all, their love had remained steadfast. They had created a sanctuary within their home, where they could be themselves without fear of judgement or reprisal.
Outside, the city continued to wake up to a new day. Carriages rumbled past, merchants called out their wares, and London life carried on its bustling rhythm. Eloise turned back to y/n, watching as they stirred awake, their eyes fluttering open to meet hers.
"Good morning," y/n murmured, their voice still laced with sleep.
"Good morning," Eloise replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to y/n's lips. They shared a quiet moment together, the warmth of their embrace speaking volumes where words fell short.
"I never imagined we'd be here," y/n whispered, their fingers tracing patterns on Eloise's cheek.
"Neither did I," Eloise admitted, her heart swelling with emotion. "But I wouldn't change a thing."
They lay entwined in each other's arms, basking in the simple joy of being together. Outside, the city continued its daily hustle, but in their sanctuary, time seemed to stand still.
In the weeks and months that followed, Eloise and y/n continued to navigate their newfound roles as partners in life and advocates for change. They attended social events hand in hand, their presence a quiet yet powerful statement of love and acceptance. Through their actions, they hoped to pave the way for others who dared to love outside of society's conventions.
Occasionally, they would steal moments alone, away from the prying eyes of society, to remind themselves of the bond they shared. Whether it was a quiet evening at home or a stolen kiss in a secluded corner of a ballroom, every moment together reaffirmed their commitment to each other.
Their love story became a beacon of hope for those who yearned for acceptance and understanding. Slowly but surely, attitudes began to shift. Families whispered their support in drawing rooms, friends offered quiet encouragement over tea, and London society found itself grappling with the idea that love knew no boundaries.
As the years passed, Eloise and y/n's love story continued to unfold, weaving itself into the fabric of London's history. They faced challenges and triumphs together, building a life filled with laughter, companionship, and unwavering devotion.
Eloise often found herself marvelling at the resilience of y/n, their strength and determination a constant source of inspiration. Together, they navigated the complexities of societal expectations and personal desires, forging a path that defied tradition and embraced love in its purest form.
And so, in the quiet moments before dawn, as the city stirred awake outside their window, Eloise held y/n close, knowing that their love had not only changed their lives but had also left an indelible mark on the world around them.
I did not plan the lyrics around an epilogue and ran out HAHA oopsie
a/npt2; AHHH how did you guys feel about this, i tried to mot make it rushed i really wanted to start from the beginging and build their realtionship in a way a oneshot can, ive been considering writing a story once im done with these requests so we can get some better romance building then!!
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grace-williams-xo · 6 months ago
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I HAVE FINISHED THE FIRST FOUR THIS IS GONNA BE MY MESSY THOUGHTS POST. SPOILERS AHEAD. [Part two rambles, addressing some of these.]
I want Cressida to be happy and I want her and Debling to work things out sue me I do
More than that I ship Cressida and Eloise,,,, frothing for them to kiss actually
Benedict my happy smiling boy with no thoughts behind the eyes I love you
I still want Sophie to appear late in the season
Anthony is so in love and obsessed with Kate it is grotesque like that man has not had a thought about anything other than his wife since he married her
Despite being the world’s biggest Kanthony lover,,,, I have to admit that their absence works better than I expected
Francesca and Eloise’s little friendship moment in ep 1 was so sweet [EDIT: I meant Francesca and Penelope smh my brain]
Francesca has my entire heart I want her to continue to thrive happy in part two
It’s not that I don’t like the Mondrich’s or their plot… it just feels very disconnected. Hopefully this improves
SO happy about Pen and Delacroix’s continuing friendship I always want more of that I love them
Anthony is gonna kill Colin when he gets back, Kate saying no is gonna be the only reason he doesn’t (I can’t fully explain it, I just feel like Anthony is gonna be mad)
Despite what I said in point 6, we do need kanthony in every episode of part two
Kinda loving Portia Featherington this season, sending her thoughts and prayers every time Prudence and Phillipa breathe, but also scared how she’s gonna react to Pen marrying Colin
When Colin finds out about LW,,,,,,
I like how late the introduction of Marcus was, and how slow burn that is
The first threesome scene wasn’t that bad imo and the second one, where he’s not involved, is so blink and you miss it and he’s clearly not into it anyway so also not that bad
This is going to be the longest 27 days of my life
P.S. I don’t know what to say about Polin. I was screaming at Colin for 90% of it. The carriage scene, the proposal; chef’s kiss.
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weirdmorefics · 1 year ago
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Hello! Love your Bridgerton fics, I was wondering if you could do a Anthony x wife!reader and she’s like the complete opposite to him (personality wise) sorta like grumpy x sunshine trope? Have a good day/night 💙
Sending love from Scotland!
A/N- Hi! Thanks for waiting for me to make the request! I can't believe someone so far away sees my silly little fanfics. I love the internet
Pronouns- She/Her
Word Count- 533
Tooth rotting fluff
Summary- Anthony has been doing everything to get Eloise to participate in the balls and behave at least somewhat ladylike. He loses his temper but the reader is there to calm the nerves of everyone.
The Rainbow After The Rain
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"Eloise!" I hear Anthony shout so loud as it reverberates off our window window panes. I quickly draw the curtain back to see the commotion. Eloise seems to be simply sitting on the tree swing reading however, the whole house is aware of the fact that we are late to the ball. This wouldn't have been such a big argument if it weren't for this particular ball being Eloise's introduction to society. I sigh and put the curtain back to where it once was and make my way to the garden.
The two don't seem to notice my appearance too involved in their battle of wits. I clear my throat to hopefully garner some of their attention to no avail. Eloise is going on about how barbaric the whole tradition is and how she does not wish to marry and Anthony is shouting about she is already dressed and no one is asking her to marry someone tonight. I clap my hands twice loudly which finally snaps their eyes up to my presence.
Anthony's once furrowed angry eyebrows turn into a soft gaze, "Darling."
I ignore Anthony and go straight to Eloise. I can tell by the way his hands instantly turn to fists he is angry with my actions.
"Now Eloise, is my dear husband bothering you?" I say with a sweet smile.
"Indeed, he is being quite troublesome," Eloise smirks as we tease Anthony together.
"Isn't he always," I look at Anthony with love and his once tense shoulders seem to relax at the familiar jest. "I must say Eloise you look absolutely handsome in your gown. I think it would be a waste to not let others see beauty. Do you really want your beauty wasted on your grumpy big brother?"
Eloise puts a finger to her chin in thought, "I suppose you are correct it certainly would be a waste on Anthony."
"Is Y/n not always right?" Anthony questions.
I get up on my tiptoes and place a chaste kiss on Anthony's cheek, "Aw, he is learning."
"Truly, Y/n where would be without you. Anthony would be all rain no shine."
"Lucky, for all the Bridgerton they won't ever have to find out." I smile widely at Eloise. "Now, shall we get you to your ball! I am sure your late entrance will just make you shine more." I link arms with Eloise to guide her to the carriage and my lovely Anthony links arms with my other.
"I think Y/n is more like my rainbow," Anthony interjects.
Eloise and I both turn our heads to look at him like he has utterly lost it.
"She is my light after the storm," he replies after seeing our confused faces.
I can feel my face instantly burn and I am sure I must look like a tomato as Anthony's face turns from love to a smug eating grin.
Eloise gags, "If you want me to make it to the ball I think it is best you do not make me vomit myself to death beforehand."
I bite my lip to stop the laughter but Anthony fully lets out a deep laugh, my favorite sound in the world.
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ijustwant2write · 1 year ago
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Reunion Of Sorts-Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader
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(GIF credit to @mrsbridgerton)
Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi! If your requests are open I'd love to request an Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader where the reader's Simon's sister. Prompts 14 and 15 please? Thank you so much, your works are amazing!’
14) 'It's only good news depending on how you look at it.'
15) 'I just wouldn't have expected this!'
Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader, Simon Basset x Basset!Reader (siblings), Daphne Bridgerton x Reader (platonic), mentions of Bridgerton family
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings: Just extreme fluff!
                                            *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Are you quite alright, (Y/N)?" Simon asked his sister as they journeyed in their carriage.
(Y/N) had started fanning herself a little faster."I don't know why I'm so nervous. I just hope to make a good impression."
"Of course you will. I'm sorry you haven't met them sooner."
"I could have at least met your wife at the wedding, if I had been invited."
"We have been through this, (Y/N)."
"Yes, and I'm not trying to argue with you, Simon. I know you married in haste, and I know why, but you must admit, you've left this far too long. You have a son now!"
"You have been cooped up in that house with your matron as father intended. I think she would have had my head if I tried to get you out of there."
They laughed together.
"Simon?"
"Hm?"
"I am very excited to meet your wife and my nephew."
As usual, the Bridgerton house was abuzz with excitement and chaos. Eloise didn't understand why she had to dress up so much for this visit, Gregory and Hyacinth were bombarding everyone with questions about Simon's sister, Colin and Benedict tried but failed to escape the madness, Anthony watched everything unfold and Daphne nervously bounced her baby boy on her knee.
"Daphne, do not fret. His sister will love you." Anthony tried to reassure his sister.
"What if she's like their father? What if she heard all the rumours about us and judges me for it? Simon has never spoken of her, I have no idea what to expect."
"I met Simon's sister many, many years ago. She was nothing like the things you are dreading. (Y/N) was a lovely, respectable young lady, I'm sure she hasn't changed."
Daphne let a small smile grace her face, trying to convince herself that everything was fine. Simon had kept his family such a secret, she just wanted to ensure that his sister would want to stay and be part of theirs.
Simon playfully rolled his eyes as (Y/N) asked how she looked, not in vain, but in anxiety. Her dress was beautiful, her hair perfectly in place, her jewels glistened but they weren't ghastly, nothing was wrong. Her nerves were getting the better of her. Just as she was about to ask again, the carriage stopped. Simon chuckled at her panicked look, already stepping outside.
He held out his hand for her."You'll be absolutely fine. Just be you."
(Y/N) took a deep breath before taking her brother's hand, being extra cautious to not fall on her face, especially since the entire Bridgerton family were stood on their front steps.
As head of the household, Anthony was ready to start introductions, until (Y/N) lifted her head, showing her dazzling features. He had only admitted to himself that he had a fancy for her when he was younger, though who wouldn't? She was beautiful, smart and didn't try hard to impress anyone; she was just joyful to be around. (Y/N) had never pined for Anthony or tried to grab his attention at every moment, or any man for that matter. He definitely considered her a friend, he was somewhat angry at himself he hadn't written to her over the years. But seeing her now, it was a mystery as to why she hadn't been married yet? That was quickly solved when he remembered Simon was her brother.
Simon stuck beside his sister until Daphne stepped forward. They shared a short but loving kiss, before Simon took their son into his arms, cooing and laughing as the baby gurgled. (Y/N)'s heart melted at the sight.
"Oh, how we've missed you." Violet beamed, greeting her son-in-law.
"I apologise for the delay, the weather was not suitable for travelling. Nevertheless, everyone, this is my sister, (Y/N) Basset."
(Y/N) curtsied as all eyes were on her."Thank you for welcoming me into your beautiful home. I have been so excited to meet you all."
"Well, why don't we go inside? We can have proper introductions in the warm." Daphne hid her nerves, presenting herself well.
Everyone agreed, leading (Y/N) inside. The family lined up like soldiers, with Anthony stepping forward to introduce everyone.
"I hope I don't have to reintroduce myself." he teased.
"Of course not, how could I forget you, Anthony? After all the trouble you and Simon got into?"
He chuckled, but cast a worried look towards his mother. He quickly continued.
"My mother, Violet, sisters Daphne, Eloise and Hyacinth, and my brothers, Benedict, Colin and Gregory."
"And your nephew." Simon added.
(Y/N) reached out a finger for the baby to hold."Yes, he's bigger than I thought he would be."
"Children do grow so fast." Violet said.
"But you're here now to see him grow." Daphne quickly added. "And we're all very happy that you're finally here."
Everyone knew that it was Simon who had kept (Y/N) away. He loved his sister with all his heart, which is why he never saw her; she was living a happy life, he didn't want to dampen that.
"The chefs have prepared a marvelous lunch. The table is all set if you are hungry now?" Voilet asked.
"Oh, yes, as long as everyone else is."
As soon as (Y/N) agreed, Colin, Eloise and the two youngest were off. They were starving, even though they had eaten only a few hours ago. (Y/N) giggled to the relief of the others. They slowly followed behind, but Simon was hesitant. (Y/N) gently nudged him forward.
"Go, see your family. I have all the time in the world to get to know Daphne."
Simon thanked her, still carrying his son as his other arm wrapped around his wife. Another arm appeared in front of (Y/N), ready for her to take it.
"May I escort you to the table?" Anthony said.
"Thank you, I much appreciate it."
They both knew they were being dramatic, though it was sweet of Anthony to make the gesture.
"How many years has it been?"
"Too many."
"I'm sorry your brother hasn't involved you. If the...situation between him and Daphne had been different, I know you would have been here straight away."
"I know. And I understand how stressful that all was. But as said before, I'm here now. I must say Anthony, I have missed you."
"Really? Even after all those times Simon and I riled you?"
"Yes. Although annoying, you both had your tender moments. I remember one evening, you and Simon were returning from your club, and you both had found yourselves in a quarrel with some other members. They followed you home, and I was waiting by the back gate to sneak you back inside. They were closer than expected, and do you remember some of the horrible things they said to me?"
"Unfortunately I do. And I unfortunately remember what happened next."
"It was very chivalrous for you to defend me, though you needn't have fought. Your nose wouldn't stop bleeding!"
"But you were right by my side, holding a handkerchief for me."
"Yes, because if you got blood on the carpets, you would have something worse than a bruised nose."
The pair were laughing to themselves as they walked into the dining room. Most were already seated. Anthony guided (Y/N) to her chair, next to Simon, who stood to tuck it in, but Anthony beat him to it. Simon watched his friend's moves very closely, knowing deep down that Anthony was just being polite; however, he wasn't too fond that they were sat opposite each other, able to gaze into each others eyes.
Simon tapped his glass with a knife once everyone was sat, standing with said glass in his hand."Before we begin eating, I would like to propose a toast."
Everyone immediately grabbed their own glasses, except Eloise, taking her time as she huffed; couldn't they at least toast after the meal?
"To my sister, (Y/N). I am so happy that you're here with me, with us. I'm sorry I haven't been a better brother but that will change now. And I can't wait for you to get to know this loving family, who made me one of their own, as I know they will you."
"To family." Benedict finished.
"To family." Everyone cheered.
"Now the food. Please." Eloise needed a plate in front of her.
All through lunch, Simon kept a close eye on his sister and Anthony. He was awful at keeping up with conversations, slow at eating, he just had a weird feeling when he glanced at them both. Simon constantly apologised to Daphne, blaming the long journey for his daydreaming.
However, Anthony and (Y/N) might as well have been dining at their own table. They were in full conversation, of course others chimed in to join, but they couldn't stop reflecting on the past and laughing. It was impossible to not notice how well they were getting along, and Violet had a glint in her eye as she saw how much Anthony was smiling. He never smiled this much, and the way he was looking at (Y/N) reminded her of how her husband used to look at her.
After dinner, they retired to the drawing room, sipping on fresh lemonade as Hyacinth showed off her new skill on the piano. Simon sat with his child in his lap, Daphne by his side, and although he was thoroughly enjoying the time with his family, he couldn't stop gazing over at his sister.
Unsurprisingly, (Y/N) and Anthony were cosied up, still smiling ear to ear as they continued talking. How could they have so much to talk about?
"Let's put him to bed Simon, for a nap. He's getting fussy." Daphne interrupted his thoughts.
Simon didn't want to cause a scene, agreeing to put their son down together. Even as they left the room, Simon's eyes lingered, and he immediately became tense once they were out of sight.
"Has my brother dazzled you?"
Simon was quiet as he laid down his son."Hm?"
"Well you haven't stopped staring at him all night."
He sighed."Was I that obvious?"
"You were indeed. Would it be so bad?"
"What?"
"Would it be so bad if my brother loved your sister?"
"Daphne-"
"Has he been disrespectful? Has he done her wrong? Has he done anything that we did?"
He was stumped. Although his brotherly instincts were kicking in, wanting to protect (Y/N), realistically he knew Anthony would never hurt her. Anthony was trustworthy, he knew him inside out and just from tonight, there was something there.
Simon didn't reply, but Daphne knew he wasn't ignoring her. She could see him thinking it all over as he walked to the window.
"It's only good news depending on how you look at it."
"I know, but it will be fine-"
"No, look!"
Daphne quickly joined her husband at the window, trying to see what he was looking at. Down in the gardens was Anthony and (Y/N) taking a stroll. The pair were lit by the setting sun which was casting a beautiful orange and pink glow across the garden. Although they had not stopped talking through the afternoon, now they were silent, both silently worrying that the other had no more to say.
"(Y/N)-"
"Anthony-"
The spoke at the same time, pausing for a moment before laughing. Anthony said nothing, being a gentleman and letting (Y/N) speak.
"I was just going to say how much I have enjoyed our time together. It feels as if no time has passed since the last time I saw you."
"How long will you stay?"
"Sorry?"
"Well, are you staying for a short visit? Or perhaps an extended time?"
"Simon and I have not discussed that as of yet. I am to be staying with a friend of mine who lives in the Ton, so I shall be here for a little while."
Anthony couldn't help but smile."Good, that is good news."
They were quiet again as they continued walking, only taking small steps as they wee nearing the end of the garden. They were standing close to one another, and although they had linked arms before and been sat on the plush sofas, this held more tension. Perhaps it was the way neither of them wanted to startle the other, despite their desperate want for affection. As their minds drifted off to where this was leading, their hands ever so delicately brushed. Both were startled, halting their steps and looking at each other.
"My apologies-"
"Anthony, it's fine. I...I just wouldn't have expected this."
Anthony thought for a moment, glancing down at their hands that were no longer close. He didn't like it. He wanted to be bold and take the next step, even if it was just holding one another's hand. But this was Simon Basset's sister. And it was (Y/N), who he had the upmost respect for.
"Miss Basset?"
"Anthony, why are you calling me that?"
"May I enquire into the address of your new lodgings?"
"Yes? Why?"
"So that I may call on you in the morning?"
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spaceorphan18 · 4 months ago
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Ranking Bridgerton Season 3 Episodes
After sitting with this season the past month, I kind of wanted to see how a ranking would go (and those of you who know me, know I love a good ranking). These are 100% subjective opinions, and I don't expect anyone else to agree. More so did it out of the fun of it. :)
8. Forces of Nature (Episode 3)
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I don't actually think there is a bad episode of this season. Truly. After really sitting with this season, thinking it over, even agreeing that there isn't enough Polin and some of the subplots could have been stronger (or not existed at all), I think all of these episodes are pretty stellar. But one of them had to be placed last, and after combing through all of them, it's episode 3.
There is actually a lot I like in this episode - Colin spending the whole episode pining for Pen, the ridiculous and romantic dream fantasy, the awkwardly cute willow scene, the angsty cake scene, Colin asking his mother for advice and awkwardly trying to figure his shit out, loved it. I also really enjoyed Debling and the development of that story as an alternative option for Pen.
What really bogs this episode down, and consequently pushes it to the bottom, is that it's also the culprit for braiding in all of the seemingly many subplots. I don't necessarily think any of them are bad on their own, but it feels like so much that it's too much at times.
We get Lord Kilmartin's introduction (yes, great), Lord Anderson (yeah, okay), Lady Tilly (ooff, fine), The Mondrichs (why are they here again?), the stuff with the Queen (this was just weak in general), and development of Cressida (it works in conjunction with LW, but idk if it holds up on rewatches?). It's just a lot and the main characters (unfortunately, especially Colin) get pushed a little to the side.
7. Romancing Mister Bridgerton (Episode 6)
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This is the episode that when I first watched it, I straight up thought it wasn't that good. I've honestly changed my opinion on it a lot, but I do understand why I originally felt that way.
I love LOVE the first half of this episode. We get to have Pen and Colin in a little bit of a honeymoon stage -- the engagement ring scene is brilliant, everything at the church is brilliant, even the stuff at the Mondrich ball... It's truly delicious. And I love Colin just being soft with his sister and at the Mondrich bar scene. And then I do love the Lady Whistledown aspect of it -- Pen dealing with whether or not she wants to continue. There's some great Eloise stuff in here, too. And even Cressida pretending to be Whistledown was handled decently.
But, like episode 3, this episode was saddled with a ton of side plots, where the scenes just go on and on and on because they're the meat of some of these side plots. I don't know if they needed to be balanced better or parceled out better, I don't know. But the long stretches without any Polin, or much Pen or Colin in general in the second half is why this episode ended up lower.
I think the only reason it's moved up a spot is that I do love the Polin we do get more than what's in episode 3. Also, the last few moments of Colin discovering Pen is Lady Whistledown is an excellent cliffhanger.
6. Out of the Shadows (Episode 1)
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I do think the season opener is solidly good! I actually really love Pen getting her transformation and the ridiculous of Colin (attempting) swagger as he comes back into town. I love that we don't beat around the bush, and the two of them really get to the heart of their issues right off the bat and it sets up the entire season really nicely. Plus, their dynamic as never sparkled any better -- it's truly a treat to see the two of them back on screen.
The rest of the episode works pretty well, too. The tension between Pen and Eloise is great -- and kicks off one of my favorite arcs of the season. Francesca's (re-)introduction is wonderful. There's some truly brilliant Bridgerton sibling stuff, as well as Anthony and Kate being on the top of their game. It's also got some breathing room as we haven't established the nineteen other plot lines going on this season (though the Mondrich stuff feels a little sluggish).
The only reason this episode is as low as it is -- is because I just like everything else more.
5. Joining of Hands (Episode 7)
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It pains me to have this episode as low as it is because I love so much of it. The Polin stuff in this episode is just delicious. I love the tension after Colin finds out that Pen is Lady Whistledown. I love the brutalness of the first argument and the angst, longing, and actually working through some of their shit (as well as the spiciness) of their argument outside the Modeste.
I love that they still get married despite having unresolved conflict, and that their love transcend set backs. And that wedding dance is absolutely gorgeous.
Plus - we get some great Bridgerton in general stuff -- Eloise and Pen are on their way to repairing their relationship, Colin and Eloise get some great moments, Benedict is adorable at the 'bachelor' party, and Anthony and Kate are amazing in everything that they do (I love LOVE the scene with Kate, Anthony, and Colin).
The episode does have some weaker aspects - I don't care all that much about Violet and Lord Anderson nor Benedict and Lady Tilly (even if I'm all here for Benedict's bisexual awakening). But the subplots don't really weigh everything down as much, and it's a solidly good Polin episode.
4. Into the Light (Episode 8)
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The Season Finale! I honestly toggled between episodes 7 and 8 and where they went, and I think maybe on a different day I could be persuaded to switch them, but I think what really sells me is everything from the Butterfly Ball onward. The ending is gorgeous, Pen's story wraps up brilliantly, Colin's grand speech was beautiful, the epilogue was pitch perfect, and all of the storylines work out in a great way, setting up threads for future seasons (obviously, Benedict is next but Eloise and Francesca are getting some good stuff, too.)
My only issue with the end of Pen and Colin's story is that I wanted more resolution to their story. The twenty seconds of make-up sex felt like not enough, and I do hope that they rectify this in Season 4. (Which I have a feeling they will.)
There are some really great things leading up to the ending as well -- I love that Pen and her mother kind of come to terms with each other and finally that relationship is being restored, as well as the Featherington sisters blooming into decent people. I also LOVE the reconciliation of Pen and Eloise. And while the blackmail plot could have been a little stronger (Cressida's whimper out was a little weak) I honestly love Colin's scene with Cressida. (As well as the hilarity of Portia, Eloise, and Colin being the ones to try to help Pen deal with it all.)
It's not perfect episode -- there's the seemingly never ending threeway with Benedict (as well as the fact that Benedict desperately needs next season because his character feels aimless at this point), and Francesca's wedding, while sweet, felt like it pushed Pen and Colin a little out of the limelight for a little too long in the middle. But pacing might have been the biggest issue of the episode. It's otherwise a great episode and a solid ending.
3. Old Friends (Episode 4)
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So here's the thing. Here is the thing I've been really thinking about while putting this together. It's a testament to the carriage scene and, honestly, everything from the last twenty-ish minutes of this episode because without it, I'm not sure this episode would be that high. Pen and Colin get ZERO screen time together until the end (and I suppose that's somewhat intentional) you really start to feel it as the episode goes on.
But the tension of this episode is fantastic. Pen bonding with Debling, beginning to accept that this is her best option with pressure from Portia... Colin dealing with his own feelings and downward spiraling (though I do wish we had gotten more of him). It's really, really well done. And then the last twenty minutes is just solidly amazing. All of it. Fantastic. It's just captivating.
And then, of course, the carriage scene -- one of the best (possibly the best??) scenes of the entire show. I could wax poetic about the carriage scene for days...
This is another episode that does feel like it's saddled with too many subplots, and pacing issues, because they're withholding the Polin stuff until the very end and it almost feels like a trudge to get there at points. But it's well worth the wait -- and enough of an amazing payoff that I have this episode so high.
2. How Bright the Moon (Episode 2)
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I just fucking adore this episode. Like so much. It is a romantic comedy at its finest with one of the most beautiful first kiss sequences I've ever seen. I love everything this episode chooses to be.
First of all, there's just so MUCH content for Pen and Colin, and we really get to see their FREINDSHIP at play here. (As well as Nicola Coughlan's amazing comedic chops - she shines in every scene here.) Everything between the two of them is brilliant and hilarious and awkward and funny and really, I could have watched a whole season of just this ridiculous rom-com trope-y stuff. Because they're both so good at it. Because it's just so delicious and wonderful.
We also get some of the best comedy of the show in the scene with Portia explaining sex to the Featherington sisters. And some truly great moments with Eloise, too. The rest of the side plots don't feel as heavy as they don't over shadow what's going on with Pen and Colin.
And then that last scene, the beautiful, fairy tale, fantasty-esque, shot like an Old Hollywood film first kiss that is truly breathtaking. This episode just wins all the things.
1. Tick Tock (Episode 5)
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Like it was going to be anything else ;)
But no, here's my thing. It's not just the awkwardly beautiful ten minute sex scene of this episode that has me placing it on top. No, really, even if I think the mirror scene is incredible and breathtaking in it's own right.
This episode is solidly for Pen and Colin. And in a season that sometimes struggles to find good balance, this episode (and episode 2 really) are the only ones that really feel like the fully feature Pen and Colin, so it's no coincidence they end up taking the top spots.
The first half of the episode is just a continuation of the amazingness that is the ending of episode 4. The engagement announcement, the hilariously wonderful ABC Bros scene, Colin telling off Portia, Pen and Colin being so soft and sweet with each other during sex, the aftercare cuddling on the satee, the carriage ride.... it's all so, so good, I love it so much.
There's also some great stuff going on around Polin -- Kate and Anthony are back, Eloise has some great stuff, the Cressida plot is hitting its stride, the Queen is adding tension, the Lady Whistledown plot is getting turned up to eleven...
The second half of the episode is also incredibly strong, as it mostly takes place during the engagement party and the tension during that whole sequence is fantastic. All the little plot threads are getting pulled at in a way that works well being woven in together. It's GREAT drama and it really pushes this episode to be the season's finest hour.
This episode just works all the way through. It's got such lush, romantic Pen and Colin that I keep coming back to, some crazy tension built in to ramp up the drama, the characters all just so much fun to watch. This episode is amazing, and truly deserves to be at the top of the list.
And that's my list!! Thanks for reading!! :)
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checkoutmybookshelf · 10 months ago
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You Have My Attention: Bridgerton First Lines
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I literally cannot believe I haven't done a First Lines for Bridgerton yet!!! Thanks to the Netflix series, Bridgerton itself needs little introduction. However, Julia Quinn still had to catch her readers, and those first sentences are crucial for that. House rules for this one are that we will do the prologue and first chapter first lines (with the exception of When He was Wicked, which just doesn't have a prologue for some reason), because let's face it: We want to meet both our love interests. Let's see how she does it!
Prologue
The birth of Simon Arthur Henry Fitzranulph Basset, Earl Clyvdon, was met with great celebration.
Chapter 1
"Ooooooooooohhhhhhhhh!" Violet Bridgertin crumpled the single-page newspaper into a ball and hurled it across the elegant drawing room.
Her daughter Daphne wisely made no comment and pretended to be engrossed in her embroidery.
-- The Duke and I
Prologue
Anthony Bridgerton had always known he would die young.
Chapter 1
"Please don't tell me," Kate Sheffield said to the room at large, "that she is writing about Viscount Bridgerton again."
-- The Viscount Who Loved Me
Prologue
Everyone knew Sophie Beckett was a bastard.
Chapter 1
"Sophie! Sophieeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
As screeches went, it was enough to shatter glass. Or at least an eardrum.
-- An Offer from a Gentleman
Prologue
On the sixth of April, in the year 1812--precisely two days before her sixteenth birthday--Penelope Featherington fell in love.
Chapter 1
"Look at this!" Portia Featherington squealed. "Colin Bridgerton is back!"
-- Romancing Mister Bridgerton
Prologue
It was ironic, really, that it had happened on such a sunny day.
Chapter 1
Eloise Bridgerton smoothed the well-read sheet of paper across her lap.
-- To Sir Phillip, With Love
Chapter 1
In every life there is a turning point. A moment so tremendous, so sharp and clear that one feels as if one’s been hit in the chest, all the breath knocked out, and one knows, absolutely knows without the merest hint of a shadow of a doubt that one’s life will never be the same. For Michael Stirling, that moment came the first time he laid eyes on Francesca Bridgerton.
Chapter 2
For all his faults—and Francesca was willing to allow that Michael Stirling had many—he really was the dearest man.
-- When He was Wicked
Prologue
There were four principles governing Gareth St. Clair's relationship with his father that he relied upon to maintain his good humor snd general sanity.
Chapter 1
"Why do we do this to ourselves?" Hyacinth Bridgerton wondered aloud.
-- It's In His Kiss
Prologue
His lungs were on fire. Gregory Bridgerton was running.
Chapter 1
Unlike most men of his acquaintance, Gregory Bridgerton believed in true love.
-- On the Way to the Wedding
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evispunk · 4 months ago
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MEET THE CAMERONS
a/n: first chapters are normally super slow and are just to get you an introduction to the book, so if you don't like it, please give it a chance and read a little more. as a reader, i don't even like this chapter. this is where you can stop reading if you don't want to know a few things about me.
one - i've been watching outer banks and reading fics about it since 2020. i've gotten quite a feel for the characters and my own opinions and views on them. so of course, this may or may not be similar to other fics you have read, or maybe this is something entirely different! this will follow the plot of the show MAINLY. it will derive a few times and not exactly follow the timeline of the show but all of the events will happen.
two - i have been writing since i was twelve. my writing may not be your style or the best you've ever seen, but i'm proud of it and that's why i'm putting it out there for you to see. please do not critique me in the comments! save it for your therapist.
three - i'm a rafe defender sorry not sorry he's a baby
summary: violette and her parents head over to the cameron's, her parents' good friends, house for dinner where she meets sarah & wheezie for the first time, and rafe, whom she hasn't seen since they were in diapers. plot intro.
warnings: innocent little kook with no idea what she's in for
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"ARE YOU ALMOST ready?" Matt called up the spiral staircase to his daughter, Violette. She huffed, unplugging her curling iron and brushing out her waves.
"Yes, Dad, just get in the car, I'll be down in a sec!" she yelled back, applying lip balm at the same time and switching the lights off. The brunette girl took one last look at herself in the hallway mirror, staring back at her smooth, cream-colored dress with knots that were tied into bows on the shoulder straps. Her black heels clicked against the stairs as she jogged down them, heading towards her parents' car.
"Oh, honey, you look beautiful." Violette's mother, Cecilia told her once she sat down in the back seat.
"Thank you, Mom." she smiled, buckling her seatbelt behind the driver's seat.
"Are you excited to see The Cameron's again? You haven't seen Rafe since you two were in diapers right before we moved." Cecilia said, turning to face her daughter.
"I guess. I'm a little nervous to meet his sisters though, I mean, what if they're the fake bitchy type?"
"Language, young lady." her father interrupted, pointing a finger into the rearview mirror as he turned left.
"I doubt that. I've never met Rose personally, but I've talked with her a few times and her and Ward are amazing parents. I'm sure they're really sweet." Violette's mother reassured her with a smile.
"What are their names again?" 
"Sarah and Eloise, but the little one is called Wheezie."
"Wheezie? Does she have asthma?" she returned, pulling her phone out from her black shoulder bag.
"No, just a nickname that stuck, I'm sure. Don't make that joke at dinner."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Violette smiled, unbuckling herself as the car halted to a stop in the Cameron's yard.
"Be on your best behavior, Vi." Matt instructed, locking the door and putting his keys into his pocket, next to his wallet.
Violette swung the gold chain of her shoulder bag over her left, and began walking up to the front door with her parents. Her mother lightly knocked three times on their large door, and stepped back, awaiting their response.
The door swung open abruptly, and the blond woman behind it smiled.
"Welcome! You must be Cecilia!" the woman Violette now knew as Rose hugged her mother, then looked at her father.
"Matt." he smiled, and hugged her too as she kissed his cheek.
"Rose." she returned, moving her attention to their daughter. "And you must be the wonderful Violette I have heard so much about," Rose continued, initiating another hug. "Wow, I have to say you smell great. What are you wearing?"
"Miss Dior." the girl replied, thanking her.
"I'll have to buy that one. Come on in, guys." she said, opening the door completely to let the Rhodes enter their home. "I'm just about done with supper, and Rafe is setting the table."
Violette looked around at the Camerons' house, taking in her expensive surroundings. Their home was even more elegant than hers, and they were considered to be almost filthy rich. It smelt quite clean, almost like a mix of fresh linen and salt air.
"Violette?" a voice called from beside her, and she whipped her head towards the sound to find a dirty blond girl standing there wearing a strapless, navy, crossfront bandeau top dress. "Hey, I'm Sarah. Rafe's sister." the girl smiled, taking a few steps towards Violette.
"Oh, hi. Sorry, you scared me, but it's nice to meet you. I love your dress."
"Thank you! I got it at this cute boutique downtown, you'll have to come shop with me sometime."
"I'd love to." Violette replied, looking at the Cameron girl some more. She noticed her wearing two necklaces, one smaller gold chain, and a longer necklace with an 'S' on it.
"Your heels are gorgeous, by the way." Sarah continued, silently urging Violette to walk with her.
"Givenchy."
"Wow. So, you're bougie."
"I like what I like. Of course, not everything is about a brand, but it sure can be."
"You know what, I get that. I don't really care as much, but, I can see why someone would." she smiled. "Oh, Wheeze." Sarah stopped in her tracks, almost catching the Rhodes girl off guard.
"Hm? Oh. Hi, what's your name?"
"Violette. I'm assuming you're Wheezie?"
"I don't know anyone else with that name." she responded with a laugh, her dark curls bouncing with it.
"Can't say I do either," Violette said, voice back to normal. "Hey, I've met pretty much everyone besides Rafe. Do you know where he's at?"
"Probably in the kitchen." the black-haired girl answered, standing up to join the two girls on their walk. "Come this way." The two newfound friends followed Wheezie through the hall until they reached the kitchen, finding Rafe and Ward sipping on their drinks while leaning against the island.
"Violette. How're you doing, sweetie?" the older Cameron smiled, meeting Violette halfway and hugging her.
"I'm doing well. And you?"
"Great, great. You remember Rafe." he pointed to his son, drink in hand.
"Just barely. I do remember a lot of him stealing my toys." she replied and Ward laughed, grabbing Rafe's shoulder. The blond teenager only dryly stared at Violette and drank from his glass.
"Yeah, that sounds like Rafe. I see you already met Sarah and Wheezie, hope they weren't too hard on you."
"Hey!" Wheezie defended herself from behind Violette, still standing next to a temporarily silent Sarah, "We're actually really nice, if you didn't notice."
"I'm sure that's what you think," Rafe commented, refilling his cup with Coke. Violette's gaze fell upon him, slightly taken aback by his arrogant demeanor.
"Rafe-"
"Supper's ready!" Rose called out from the next room over, and Rafe smirked to himself while Ward's face turned sour. His expression quickly recovered when he turned to the three girls and nodded towards the dining room, he and his son following.
"This looks delicious, Rose." Cecilia complimented, smoothing her long dress down as she took a seat at the table.
"Thank you. It's an old family recipe of Ward's." she smiled at the woman in return, setting her napkin on her lap.
"It's steak, Rose." Rafe rolled his eyes, scooting his chair in louder than necessary. 
"I think it looks and smells lovely," Ward interjected whilst giving his son 'the look', "Let's eat." he smiled. 
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Violette walked into the kitchen and began stacking plates and cups, deciding to help Rose with the dishes as a thank you for the supper she undoubtedly spent hours cooking.
"Oh, you don't have to do that, honey. You can go talk with everyone else."
"That's okay, I like to help. Take it as a thank you for supper."
"Well then, I won't stop you," she agreed, turning back to the large sink, scrubbing and rinsing dishes before loading them into their stainless steel dishwasher. "So, Violette, do you have a boyfriend back on the mainland?"
"I don't, actually. I was seeing this one guy for a while, but he turned out to be a huge jerk, so I ended it. It was sad too, he was real cute." the young girl responded, heading over to the other side of the sink and using some of the water that had collected to rinse cups and silverware.
"Trust me, I've been there," Rose laughed. "I dated this one guy in high school, Thomas White. Turns out he was making out with guys the whole time we were dating." she continued, shaking her head.
"Whoa, talk about a plot twist."
"Tell me about it. You know, I never got to ask at dinner- what do your parents do for work again? I know your mother makes jewelry, I bought some from her."
"Yeah, she does. Um, my dad's a lawyer, actually."
"Have you ever got to say, 'My dad's a lawyer,'?" Rose chuckled lightly, switching off the sink and shutting the dishwasher door.
"Not yet, but it sure has crossed my mind a few times."
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"Goodnight Mom," Violette said as her mother passed her bathroom whilst brushing out her wet hair.
"Night sweetie. Love you."
"I love you, too." 
Violette walked across the hallway to her bedroom and opened her closet door with the intention of finding pajamas to wear. She settled her mind on a ribbed mauve tank top, and loose white sweat shorts. After dropping her towel and changing, she slid on her beige fluffy socks and plaited her hair. Tomorrow she would explore the island after having been here for a week and only unpacking her house. 
"Alexa, play thunderstorm sounds."
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kmomof4 · 2 months ago
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To Sir Graham, With Love Ch. 5
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Here we go, y'all!!! We are going now to updating twice a week!! I am SO UNBELIEVABLY EXCITED to share this ch with you! It is my favorite in the whole fic! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!!
Once again, all the love and thanks in the world to @jrob64 , @whimsicallyenchantedrose , and @motherkatereloyshipper respectively for their beta services and the gorgeous artwork above!!!
And more happy birthday wishes to @snowbellewells for whom this fic is written!!!
Summary: After a year long secret correspondence, twenty-eight year old spinster Ruby Jones decides to accept Sir Graham Humbert's offer of a visit to see if they might suit for marriage. Unfortunately, he failed to mention that he was the father of twins, and they are not thrilled with Ruby's appearance.
Ch Summary: The Jones brothers descend.
Rating: M (for smut in later chs and mentions of physical abuse)
Words: Approx 7300 of 68k
Tags: Red Hunter Fic, Birthday Fic, Inspired by Eloise Bridgerton's Story, Smut
On ao3 From Beginning / Current Chapter
On Tumblr Prologue Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4
Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.
@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615
@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings
@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza
@djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic
@anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling
@caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite
@captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose
@thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones
@mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love 
Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.
We all miss Father, especially this time of year. But think how lucky you were to have had eighteen years with him. I remember so little, and I do wish he could have known me, and all that I’ve grown up to be.
–From Ruby Jones to her older brother, Viscount Liam Jones, upon the occasion of the tenth anniversary of their father’s death
~*~*~*~
… you will never know how unfortunate you are, dearest Mary Margaret, to have sisters only. Brothers are ever so much more fun.
–From Ruby Jones to Mary Margaret Blanchard, following a midnight ride in Hyde Park with her three older brothers
~*~*~*~*~*~*
It occurred to Graham that Ruby might have given him a bit of warning. Not days necessarily, but certainly more than the seconds he got before four rather strong and very angry men burst into the dining room. 
Brothers. It was quite ill-advised of him to court a woman with brothers. Especially four of them. It was a wonder he wasn’t dead already. 
Though that wasn’t out of the realm of possibility at the moment. Not with two pairs of hands wrapped around his neck.
“Liam!” Ruby shrieked, “Stop!”
Liam, or at least Graham presumed it was Liam - they hadn’t exactly bothered to go through the necessary introductions - tightened his grip.
“Killian,” Ruby pleaded, turning her attention to the other one currently engaged in squeezing the air out of him. “Be reasonable.”
Killian turned to look at Ruby, which turned out to be a mistake, since in their haste to rip every limb from Graham’s body, they failed to notice Ruby’s spectacular black eye.
Which, of course, they would think he was responsible for.
An inhuman growl came out of Killian’s mouth. He adjusted his grip and jammed Graham against the wall so tightly that his feet came off the ground.
Wonderful, Graham thought, now I really am going to die. The first stranglehold they’d had on him was uncomfortable, yes, but this…
“Stop!” Ruby yelled, jumping on Killian’s back and yanking his hair. Killian howled as his head jerked backward, but unfortunately Liam’s grip held firm. 
Graham couldn’t help but be impressed with Ruby’s fortitude as she tried her best to yank Killian’s hair out. It was a rare woman who knew how to fight to win. She rather resembled a fury crossed with a banshee crossed with Medusa herself, as far as Graham could tell, as his vision was starting to blacken around the edges from lack of oxygen.
“Good God!” Killian croaked out. “Someone get her off of me!” It was all he could get out since Ruby’s arm was wrapped around his throat, her forearm wedged neatly under his chin.
No one moved to help him, unsurprisingly. Graham certainly wouldn’t have desired that kind of fury directed at him. The blonde leaning against the door looked simply amused at the whole spectacle.
Liam’s face was suddenly only inches from his, the fury in his eyes a true wonder to behold. “Did. You. Hit. Her?” he growled.
As if he could utter a single word in answer.
“No!” Ruby shouted, briefly taking her attention off of tearing Killian’s hair out. “Of course he didn’t hit me.”
Liam looked over at her with a sharp expression as she resumed pummeling Killian. “There’s no of course about it, Ruby!”
“It was an accident,” she insisted. “He had nothing to do with it.” Ruby huffed indignantly when none of them made any indication that they believed her. “For heaven's sake, do you really think I’d be defending someone who struck me?”
That seemed to do the trick as Liam abruptly released Graham, allowing him to sag to the floor, gasping for breath.
Four of them. Had she told him she had four brothers? Surely not. He’d have never considered marriage to a woman with four brothers. Only a fool would have. And he did consider himself a man with at least a modicum of intelligence.
“What did you do to him?” Ruby demanded, jumping off Killian and hurrying to Graham’s side.
“What did he do to you?” one of the other brothers demanded. The one who’d punched Graham in the chin before the others decided to strangle him instead.
Ruby shot him a scathing look. “What are you doing here?”
“Protecting my sister’s honor,” he shot right back.
“As if I need protection from you. You’re not even twenty!”
Ah, her youngest brother, Graham realized. Damn, if he knew she had a younger brother, then she must have told him about the others. He had no one to blame but himself.
“I’m twenty-three,” he bit out, with all the irritability of a younger sibling.
“And I’m twenty-eight,” she snapped. “I didn’t need your help when you were in nappies, and I don’t need it now.”
“He wanted to come along,” said the blonde, the only one who hadn’t yet laid a hand on him. Graham decided he liked this one best, especially when he wrapped his hand around the youngest’s forearm to prevent him from launching himself at Ruby.
Which, Graham thought, was nothing more than she deserved. Nappies, indeed.
“Well, you should have stopped him,” Ruby said, oblivious to Graham’s mental defection. “Do you have any idea how mortifying this is?”
Her brothers stared at her - quite rightly, in Graham’s opinion - as if she’d gone mad.
“You lost the right,” Liam bit out as he advanced on his sister, “to feel mortified, embarrassed, chagrined, or in fact any emotion other than blindingly stupid, when you ran off without a word.”
Ruby backed up a step or two in the face of her brother’s wrath, but still muttered, “It’s not as if I’d listen to anything he has to say anyway.”
“As opposed to us,” the blonde murmured, “with whom you are the soul of meekness and obeisance.”
“Oh, for the love of God,” Ruby muttered, rolling her eyes in annoyance and sounding rather fetchingly unladylike to Graham’s stinging ears. Stinging? Had someone boxed his ears? He wasn’t sure. Four-to-one odds did tend to muddle one’s thinking.
“You,” Liam said, pointing at Graham, still sitting on the floor, “don’t go anywhere.” Then he turned to Ruby, his voice low and deadly. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”
Ruby tried to sidestep the question with one of her own. “What are you doing here?”
And apparently succeeded when Liam actually answered her. “Saving you from ruin!” he yelled. “For the love of God, Ruby, do you have any idea how worried we’ve been?”
“And here I thought you wouldn’t even notice my departure,” she tried to joke.
“Ruby,” he said, “Mother is beside herself.”
That sobered her in an instant. “Oh, no,” she whispered. “I didn’t think.”
“No, you didn’t,” Liam replied, his stern tone exactly what one would expect from a man who’d been the head of his family for over twenty years. “I ought to take a whip to you.”
Graham started to intervene, because really, he couldn’t countenance a whipping, but then Liam added, “Or at the very least, a muzzle,” and Graham decided that the man knew his sister very well indeed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Killian asked him, and Graham realized that he’d begun to stand. He immediately plopped back down to his rather impotent position on the floor.
Graham looked to Ruby. “Perhaps introductions are in order?”
“Oh, yes,” Ruby said, gulping. “Of course. These are my brothers,” she said, her arm waving about in an all-encompassing gesture.
“I gathered,” Graham said, his voice still rather raspy.
She shot him an apologetic look, which Graham thought was the least she could do after nearly getting him tortured and killed, then turned to her brothers and motioned to each in turn. 
“Liam, Killian, David, Henry. These three,” she added, motioning to the older ones, “are my elders. This one,” she waved dismissively to Henry, her lip curling in disdain, “is an infant.”
Henry looked ready to throttle her, which suited Graham just fine, since it kept his murderous intentions off of him.
Then Ruby turned back to Graham and said to her brothers, “Sir Graham Humbert, but I expect you know that already.”
“You left a letter in your desk,” said David.
Ruby closed her eyes in agony. It looked like she was saying stupid, stupid, stupid.
David smiled grimly. “You ought to be more careful in the future, should you decide to run off again.”
“I most certainly will,” Ruby shot back, though she was losing some of her bite.
“Would now be a good time to stand?” Graham asked.
“NO!” It was difficult to discern which Jones brother was the loudest.
Graham remained on the floor. He didn’t tend to think himself a coward, and he was, if he did say so himself, quite proficient with his fists, but hell, there were four of them. Boxer he might be. Suicidal fool, he was not.
“How did you get that black eye?” David asked quietly.
Ruby paused before answering. “It was an accident.”
He considered her words for a moment and then lifted an eyebrow, his gaze on her shrewd. “Care to expand upon that?” he asked.
Ruby swallowed uncomfortably and glanced down at Graham, which he really wished she wouldn’t do. It only made them (as he was beginning to think of the quartet) further convinced that he was the one responsible for her injury.
A misapprehension that could only lead to his death and dismemberment. They didn’t seem the sorts to allow anyone to lay a hand on their sister, much less blacken an eye.
“Just tell them the truth, Ruby,” Graham said wearily.
“It was his children,” Ruby confessed, wincing at the admission. But Graham didn’t worry. As close as they came to strangling him, somehow he didn’t think they were the type of men to harm children. And he was quite sure Ruby would not have said anything if she’d thought it might place Nicholas and Ava in peril.
“He has children?” Liam asked, looking at him now with a slightly less angry and distrustful expression.
Graham decided Liam must be a father as well.
“Two,” Ruby replied. “Twins, actually. A boy and a girl.  They’re eight.”
“My felicitations,” Liam murmured.
“Thank you,” Graham answered, feeling rather old and weary at the moment. “Sympathies are probably more to the point.”
Liam looked at him curiously, almost - but not quite - smiling.
“They weren’t especially keen on my presence here,” Ruby said.
“Smart children,” Liam said.
She shot him a decidedly unamused look. “They set a tripwire,” she said. “Rather like the one David,” she turned to spear him with a hostile glare, “set for me in 1804.”
“You remember the date?!” David exclaimed.
“She remembers everything,” Killian interjected.
Ruby turned her glare upon Killian then.
Even with his aching throat, Graham was starting to enjoy the interaction.
She turned her attention back to Liam, regal as a queen. “I fell,” she said simply.
“On your eye?”
“On my hip actually, but I didn’t have time to break my fall, and I hit my cheek. The bruising spread to my eye.”
Liam looked down at Graham, his expression quite ferocious. “Is she telling the truth?”
“On my brother’s grave,” Graham nodded. “The children will own up to it as well, should you feel the need to ask them.”
“Of course not,” Liam said gruffly. “Stand up,” he ordered, but softened his tone by extending his hand to help him.
Graham took it, having already decided that Liam would make a far finer ally than enemy. He eyed the four male Joneses warily, though, and his stance was defensive. He stood no chance if all four decided to charge him at once, and he wasn’t convinced that that was not still a likely possibility.
At the end of the day, he was either going to be dead or married, and he wasn’t willing to allow the Jones brothers to vote on the matter.
Then, after Liam silenced his four younger siblings with nothing more than a stare, he turned to Graham and said, “Perhaps you should tell me what happened.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ruby open her mouth to interrupt, but then close it again when Liam turned his stare back on her. She sat down in a chair with an expression that, if it wasn’t actually meek, was the closest thing to meek Graham had ever imagined gracing Ruby’s face.
Graham decided that he needed to learn how to glare like Liam Jones. He’d have his children in line in no time.
“I don’t think Ruby will be interrupting us now,” Liam said mildly. “Please, go on.”
Graham glanced over at Ruby. She looked about ready to explode. But still, she held her tongue, which seemed a most remarkable feat indeed.
Graham briefly recounted the events that had led to Ruby’s arrival at Romney Hall. He told Liam about the letters, beginning with Ruby’s letter of condolence and how they had begun a friendly correspondence, pausing in his story only when David shook his head and murmured, “I always wondered what she was writing up in her room.”
Graham looked at him quizzically. He held up his fingers and explained. “Her fingers always had ink on them, and I never knew why.”
Graham finished the tale, concluding with, “As you can see, I was looking for a wife. From our correspondence, Ruby seemed to be intelligent, reasonable, and a fine candidate for my purposes. My children, as you will quickly realize should you remain long enough to meet them, can be rather, er…” He searched for the least unflattering adjective, “rambunctious,” he finally settled on, satisfied with his word choice. “I’d been hoping she would be a calming influence on them.”
“Ruby?” Killian snorted, and Graham could see from their expressions that the other three agreed with his assessment. 
And while Graham might smile at Killian’s comment about Ruby remembering everything, and even agree with Liam’s about the muzzle, it was becoming quite apparent that the Jones males did not hold their sister in the regard she deserved. 
“Your sister,” he said sharply, “has been a marvelous influence upon my children. You would do well not to disparage her in my presence.”
He’d probably just signed his own death warrant. There were four of them, after all, and he really shouldn’t be insulting them. But even if they had charged halfway across the country to protect Ruby’s virtue, there was no way he was going to stand here and listen to them snort and deride and make a mockery of her.
Not Ruby. 
Not in front of him.
But to his great surprise, not one of them said a word of retort, and in fact, Liam, who was still very much in charge, was staring intently at him with a look of cautious respect, assessing him carefully as if he could peel back the layers and see exactly what lay in Graham’s soul.
“We have a great deal to talk about, you and I,” he said quietly.
Graham nodded in agreement. “I expect you will need to speak to your sister as well.”
Ruby looked gratefully at him. He didn’t imagine she’d appreciate being left out of discussions pertaining to her own life. She didn’t appreciate being left out of discussions, period.
“Yes,” Liam said, “I do. In fact, I think we shall conduct our interview first, if you don’t mind.”
As if Graham was stupid enough to disagree with one Jones while three more were glaring at him. “You’re welcome to use my study,” he offered. “Ruby can show you the way.”
That was the wrong thing to say. None of the Jones brothers cared to be reminded that Ruby had been here long enough to know her way around.
Liam and Ruby left the room without another word while the other three brothers continued their stony silence.
“Mind if I sit?” Graham asked, because he had a feeling he was going to be here for quite some time.
“By all means,” David offered. Killian and Henry continued to glare menacingly at him. David didn’t look all that eager to strike up a friendship either. He might have been slightly more amiable than his brothers, but his eyes were sharp, and he’d already proved his shrewdness with his earlier question to Ruby. Graham knew he’d be wise not to underestimate the man.
“Please,” Graham said, motioning to the food still on the table, “eat.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” David said jovially, while the other two continued to scowl as if he’d offered them poison.
“How can you be thinking about food right now?” Henry asked angrily.
“I always think of food,” David replied, searching the table for the butter to spread on the roll he’d just plucked from the serving plate. “What else is there?”
“Your wife?” Killian drawled.
“Ah, yes,” David agreed then turned a hard stare to Graham. “Just so you are aware, I’d much rather be spending the night with my wife.”
Graham nodded, quite at a loss of how to reply to that statement. David took a huge bite of his roll, then spoke with his mouth full, the etiquette breach a clear insult to his host. “We’ve only been married a few weeks.”
Graham raised one of his brows in question. 
“Still newlyweds, you know.”
Graham nodded, since it seemed that some answer was expected of him.
David leaned forward. “I really didn’t want to leave my wife.”
“I can imagine… that… you wouldn’t,” Graham replied.
“Do you understand what he’s saying?” Henry demanded.
David turned and glared at his sibling, who’d obviously not yet mastered the fine art of nuanced and circumspect speech. Graham waited until David turned back to him, offered him a plate of asparagus (which he took), then said, “I gather you miss your wife.”
There was a moment of silence before David spoke again, after sending one last disdainful glance at his brother, “Indeed.”
Graham looked over at Killian, since he was the only one uninvolved in the latest spat. 
Big mistake. Killian was flexing his hands, still looking as if he regretted not strangling him when he’d had the chance. Graham turned his attention to Henry, whose arms were crossed angrily over his chest. His entire body practically quivered with fury, perhaps aimed at Graham, but perhaps aimed at his brothers, who’d been treating him like a green lad all evening. Henry’s chin jutted out, his teeth clenched and Graham decided he’d had quite enough of that.
He looked back at David, who’d somehow charmed the servants into bringing him a bowl of soup. He’d set down his spoon though and was inspecting his other hand, flexing each finger in turn, murmuring a word as each pointed out toward Graham.
“Miss. My. Wife.”
“Bloody hell!” Graham finally burst out. “If you’re going to break my legs, would you just go ahead and do it now?”
~*~*~
“Here are your choices,” Liam said, sitting down behind Graham’s desk as if he owned it. “You can marry him in one week, or you can marry him in two.”
Ruby’s mouth dropped in a horrified O. “Liam!”
“Did you expect me to suggest something else?” he asked mildly. “I suppose we might stretch it to three, given a sufficiently compelling reason.”
She hated it when he talked like that, as if he were reasonable and wise, and she was nothing more than a sulky, rebellious child. It was far better when he ranted and raved, then she could pretend that he was mad in the head and she was a poor, beleaguered innocent.
“I don’t see why you would object,” he continued. “Didn’t you come here with the intention to marry him?”
“No!” she exclaimed vehemently. “I came here with the intention to find out if he was suitable for marriage.”
“And is he?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “It’s only been two days.”
“And yet,” Liam said in that same mild, reasonable voice she hated, “that’s more than enough time to ruin your reputation.”
“Does anyone know I’m gone?” she quickly asked. “Outside of the family, that is.”
“No,” he admitted. “But someone will find out. Someone always finds out.”
“There was supposed to be a chaperone,” Ruby said sullenly.
“Was there?” he asked conversationally. He sounded like he was asking if there was to be lamb for dinner or if a hunting party was to be arranged. “Too bad for her that I arrived first.”
“Too bad for everyone,” Ruby muttered.
“What was that?” he asked, again in that conversational tone that told her he’d heard every word.
“Liam,” she said, and his name came out like a plea, even if she had no idea what she was pleading for.
He turned to her, his blue eyes blazing, the force of his stare so violent that she was quite thankful he was her brother and loved her and wouldn’t hurt her. Even so, she took a step back. Anyone would have when faced with Liam Jones in such a fury.
But when he spoke, his voice was even and controlled. “You’ve made yourself a rather messy little bed here,” he said, his cadence even and precise, “and now, I’m afraid, you will have to lie in it.”
“You would have me marry a man I don’t know?” she whispered.
“Is that even the truth?” he asked. “You seemed to know him very well in the dining room earlier. You certainly leapt to his defense at every opportunity.”
Liam was talking her into a corner and she hated it. “Not enough for marriage,” she insisted. “At least not yet.”
But Liam wouldn’t let up. “If not now, when? One week? Two?”
“STOP!” she burst out, wanting to cover her ears so she couldn’t hear him anymore. “I can’t think!”
“No, you didn’t think,” he corrected, angrily. “If you’d taken one moment to think, to use that tiny portion of your brain reserved for common sense, you never would have run off.”
She crossed her arms and looked away from him. She had no argument and it was killing her.
“What are you going to do, Ruby?” Liam asked.
“I don’t know,” she muttered, still not able to look him in the face.
“Well,” he said, still continuing in that awful, reasonable voice, “that puts us in a bit of a bind, doesn’t it?”
“Can’t you just say it?” she asked, her fists held rigidly against her sides. “Do you have to ask so many questions?”
He smiled humorlessly. “And here I thought you’d appreciate my soliciting your opinion.”
“You’re being condescending and you know it.”
He leaned forward, thunder in his eyes. “You can be very thankful that I am able to hold on to my temper with both hands.”
Ruby wisely held her tongue.
“You ran off in the middle of the night,” he said, rising to his feet, “without a word. Without even a note…”
“I left a note!” she cried out indignantly.
He looked at her completely disbelieving. 
“I did,” she insisted. “I left it on the side table in the front hall. Right next to the Chinese vase.”
“And this mysterious note said…”
“It said,” she began, swallowing hard before continuing, “not to worry. I was fine and would contact you all within a month.”
“Ahh,” Liam said, sarcasm dripping from his lips. “That would have certainly set my mind at ease.”
“I don’t know why you didn’t get it,” Ruby murmured. “It probably got mixed up with a pile of invitations.”
“For all we knew,” Liam continued, taking a step toward her around the desk, “you’d been kidnapped.”
Ruby paled. She’d never even considered that her family might think such a thing. It hadn’t occurred to her that her note might go astray.
“Do you know what Mother did?” Liam asked, his voice deadly serious. “After nearly collapsing with worry?”
Ruby shook her head, afraid of the answer.
“She went to the bank,” Liam continued. “Do you know why?”
“Can’t you just tell me?” she asked wearily. She hated the questions.
“She went there,” he said, taking slow, purposeful, terrifying steps toward her, “to make sure that all her funds were in the proper order should she need to ransom you!”
Ruby shrank back at the fury in Liam’s voice. I left a note, she wanted to say again, but it didn’t signify anymore, and she knew it. She’d been wrong, and she’d been foolish, and she didn’t want to compound her stupidity by trying to excuse or justify it.
“Mary Margaret was the one who finally figured out what you’d done,” Liam said. “We asked her to search your room, since she’s probably spent more time there than the rest of us combined.”
Ruby nodded. Mary Margaret had been her closest friend. She still was, in fact, even though she’d gone and married David. They’d spent countless hours up in her room, talking about anything and everything. Graham’s letters had been the only secret Ruby had ever kept from her.
“Where did she find the letter?” Ruby asked. Not that it mattered, but she couldn’t curb her curiosity.
“It had fallen behind your desk.” Liam crossed his arms. “Along with a pressed flower.”
Somehow that seemed fitting and it made Ruby smile. “He’s a botanist,” she whispered.
“I beg your pardon?”
“A botanist,” she said, louder this time. “Sir Graham. He took a first at Cambridge. He would have been an academic if his brother hadn’t died at Waterloo.”
Liam nodded, digesting the information as well as the fact that she knew it. “If you tell me that he’s a cruel man, that he will beat you, that he will insult you and demean you, I will not force your hand.” He looked at her sternly for a moment before continuing. “But, before you speak, I want you to consider my words. You are a Jones. I don’t care who you marry or what your name becomes when you stand up before a priest and say your vows. You will always be a Jones, and we behave with honor and honesty, not because it is expected of us, but because that is what we are.” 
Ruby nodded, swallowing hard as she fought the tears that were stinging her eyes.
“So, I will ask you right now,” he continued. “Is there any reason you cannot marry Sir Graham Humbert?”
“No,” she whispered. She didn’t even hesitate. She wasn’t ready for this, wasn’t yet ready for the marriage, but she wouldn’t sully the truth by hesitating with her answer.
“I thought not.”
She stood still, not certain what to say or do next. She turned away from her brother, quite certain he knew she was crying, but unwilling to let him see her tears anyway. “I’ll marry him,” she whispered. “It’s just that I’d… I’d hoped…”
Liam stood silent, respecting her distress, but when she didn’t continue, he spoke. “What did you hope for, Ruby?”
“I hoped for a love match,” she said, even softer than before, finally turning to face him. 
“I see,” he said, his hearing superb as always. “You should have thought of that before you ran off.”
She hated him in that moment. “You have a love match,” she choked out. “You of all people should understand!”
“I,” he said in a tone that told her he did not appreciate her trying to make the conversation about him, “married my wife after we were caught in a compromising position by the biggest bloody gossip in all of England.”
Ruby let out a long breath. She felt so stupid. It had been so many years since Liam had married Elsa, she’d forgotten the circumstances.
“I didn’t love Elsa when I married her,” he continued, “or,” he added, his voice growing a bit softer, more gruff and nostalgic, “if I did, I did not yet realize it.”
“You were very lucky.” Ruby could only hope and pray that she’d be that lucky with Sir Graham. 
And then Liam surprised her. He didn’t scold and he didn’t reprimand. He simply said, “I know.”
“I felt lost,” she whispered. “When David and Mary Margaret married…” She sank into a chair and let her head drop into her hands. “I’m a terrible person. I must be a terrible person, horrible and shallow, because when they married, all I could think about was myself.”
Liam sighed and knelt next to her. “You are not a terrible person, Ruby. You know that.”
Ruby looked up at her brother and wondered when he became so wise. If he’d yelled one more word, spent one more minute speaking to her in that mocking condescending voice, she would have broken. She would have broken, and something would have been utterly and irreparably destroyed between them.
But here he was, Viscount Liam Jones of all people, who was arrogant and proud, and every inch the arch nobleman he’d been born to be, kneeling at her side, placing his hand on hers, and speaking with a kindness that nearly broke her heart.
“I was happy for them,” she said. “I am happy for them.”
“I know you are.”
“I should have felt nothing but joy.”
“If you had, you wouldn’t be human.”
“Mary Margaret became my sister,” she said. “I should have been happy.”
“Didn’t you say that you were?”
She nodded. “I am. I am. I know that I am. I’m not just saying it.”
He smiled gently at her and waited for her to continue.
“It’s just that suddenly I felt so lonely, and so old.” She looked at him, wondering if he could possibly understand. “I never thought I would be left behind.”
He chuckled. “Ruby Jones, I don’t think anyone would ever make the mistake of leaving you behind.”
Her lips curved into a wobbly smile, marveling that her brother of all people could actually say the exact right thing. “I suppose I never really thought I’d be a spinster,” she said. “Or, if I was, then Mary Margaret would be one too. It wasn’t very kind of me, and I didn’t really think about it much, but…”
“But that’s just how it was,” he said, doing her the kindness of completing her thought. “I don’t think either one of them ever thought they’d marry. Much less to each other. But love can rather creep up on a person, you know.”
She nodded, wondering if it could creep up on her. Probably not. She was the sort of person who would need it whacked over her head.
“I’m glad they’re married,” Ruby said.
“I know you are. I am, too.”
“Sir Graham,” she said, motioning toward the door, “we’d been corresponding for over a year. And then he mentioned marriage.” She shrugged. “And he did it in such a sensible manner. He didn’t propose. He just inquired if I might like to visit, to see if we would suit. I told myself he was mad, that I couldn’t possibly consider such an offer. Who would marry someone she didn’t know?” She let out a shaky little laugh. “And then David and Mary Margaret announced their engagement. It was as if my entire world flipped sideways. And that was when I started thinking about it. Every time I looked at my desk, at the drawer where I kept his letters, I couldn’t get them out of my mind.”
Liam said nothing, nor did he move from his place on the floor. Merely squeezing her hand in understanding.
“I had to do something,” she continued. “I couldn’t just sit and wait for life to happen to me any longer.”
Another chuckle escaped his lips. “Ruby,” he said, “that is the last thing I would ever worry about on your behalf.”
“Li…”
“No, let me finish,” he interrupted smoothly. “You’re one of the special ones, Ruby. Life never happens to you. Trust me on this. I’ve watched you grow up, had to be your father at times when I wanted only to be your brother.”
Her lips parted as something squeezed around her heart. He was right. He had been a father to her. It was a role neither of them had wanted for him, but he had done it for years, without complaint. Not that she was complaining about Liam filling that role, she was very thankful to have had him there. Now she squeezed his hand, not because she loved him, but because it was only now that she realized how very much she did.
“You happen to life, Ruby,” Liam said. “You’ve always made your own decisions, always been in control. It might not always feel that way, but it’s true.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. “Well, that’s what I was trying to do when I came here. It seemed like a good plan.”
“And maybe,” Liam said quietly, “you’ll find that it was indeed a good plan. Sir Graham seems an honorable sort.
Ruby raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You were able to deduce this while you had your hands wrapped around his throat?”
He shot her a thoroughly condescending look. “You’d be surprised what men can deduce about one another while fighting.”
“You call that fighting?” she cried. “It was four against one!”
Liam shrugged. “I never said it was fair fighting.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“An interesting adjective considering your recent activities.”
Ruby felt herself flush.
“Very well,” Liam said, his brisk tone signaling a change of topic. “Here is what we are going to do.” And Ruby knew by the tone of his voice that whatever he said would be exactly what she would do. “You will pack your bags immediately,” he continued. “We will travel to My Cottage and remain there for a week.”
Ruby nodded. My Cottage was the rather odd name of Killian’s country home, situated not too far from Romney Hall in Wiltshire. Seeing that his wife, Emma was expecting their third child in another couple of months, they’d elected not to go to London for the season. It wasn’t a large home, but it was plenty big enough for a few extra Joneses.
“Your Sir Graham may come visit each day,” Liam continued, which Ruby correctly understood to mean Your Sir Graham will come visit each day. Ruby nodded again. “If at the end of the week, I determine that he is good enough to marry my sister, you will do so. Immediately.”
“You’re certain you can judge the measure of a man’s character in one week?”
“It rarely takes longer,” Liam stated, “And it is even more rare that I am wrong in my assessment of a man’s character. But if for some reason I am unsure, we will simply wait another sennight.” 
“Sir Graham might not care to marry me,” Ruby felt compelled to point out.
Liam leveled a hard stare at her face. “He hasn’t that option.”
Ruby gulped.
“Do we understand each other?” he asked, one brow rising in an arrogant arch.
She nodded. His plan was reasonable. She couldn’t deny that. Much more reasonable, in fact, than many other older brothers of the ton would have allowed. And if something happened, if something went horribly wrong and she decided she couldn’t possibly marry Sir Graham, well then, she had a week to figure out a way to get out of it. A lot could happen in a week. She huffed. Just look at the last one.
“Shall we return to the dining room?” Liam asked. “I assume you’re hungry and if we tarry much longer, David is liable to eat our host out of house and home.”
Ruby nodded. “That, or they’ve killed him by now.”
Liam pursed his lips in consideration. “It would save me the expense of a wedding,” he mused.
“Liam!”
“It’s a joke, Ruby,” he said, shaking his head at her. “Come along, now. Let’s make sure your Sir Graham is still in the land of the living.”
A few minutes later, Ruby and Liam entered the dining room again to see the four men lounging around the table - Graham, Killian, and Henry with empty plates before them looked quite satisfied, and tipsy as well. David was still eating.
“And then,” Killian said, “ the tavern wench arrived and she had the biggest…”
“Killian!” Ruby cried, shocked.
Killian looked over at his sister with a supremely guilty expression, yanked back his hands, which were demonstrating the size of what was clearly an impossibly endowed female, and muttered, “Sorry.”
“You’re married,” she scolded, thoroughly embarrassed at what she’d walked in on.
“But not blind,” David cheeked.
“You’re married too!”
“But not blind,” he repeated with a sly grin.
“Ruby,” Henry began with what was quite possibly the most annoying use of condescension she’d ever heard in her life, “there are some things in life that are impossible not to notice. Especially if one is a man.”
“It’s true,” Liam said. “I saw it myself.”
Ruby gasped as she looked from brother to brother, looking for some semblance of sanity in this cesspool of masculine madness. Her eyes fell to Graham, who, by the looks of him, not to mention his quite inebriated state, had formed a lifelong bond with her brothers during the time she’d been closeted away with Liam.
“Sir Graham?” she asked, waiting for him to say something acceptable.
But he just offered her a goofy grin. “I know who they’re talking about,” he said. “Been to that inn many times myself. Mildred is quite famous in these parts.”
“Even I’ve heard of her,” Killian said, with a knowing nod. “I’m only an hour away on horseback. Less, if need calls.”
Henry leaned toward Graham, his green eyes gleaming with interest as he asked, “So, did you? Ever?”
“Henry!” Ruby yelled. This was unconscionable. Her brothers should never have been talking about such things in front of her in the first place, but even more, the last thing she wanted to know was whether Sir Graham had ever tupped a tavern wench with bosoms the size of soup tureens.
But Graham shook his head. “She’s married,” he said. “As was I.”
Liam turned to Ruby and whispered, “He’ll do.”
“I’m glad you have such high standards for your beloved sister,” she muttered.
“I told you,” Liam remarked, “I’ve seen Mildred. This is a man with restraint.”
She planted her hands on her hips and looked her brother squarely in the eye. “Were you tempted?”
“Of course not! Elsa would slit my throat.”
“I’m not talking about what Elsa would do to you if you strayed, although I’m of the opinion that she would not start at your throat…” Liam winced. He knew it was true. “I want to know if you were tempted.”
“No,” he admitted, shaking his head. “But don’t tell anyone,” he whispered. “I was once a rather well known rake in my younger days. Wouldn’t do for the ton to think I’m completely tamed.” The charming smirk he sent her was almost enough to make her laugh - knowing just how in love her brother and his wife were - but she was able to suppress it under a haughty eye roll.
“You’re appalling.”
“And yet, my wife still loves me to distraction,” he said with a grin. “And that is all that really matters, isn’t it?”
Ruby supposed he was right. She sighed. “What are we going to do about them?” she asked, motioning around to the jolly quartet.
Liam shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re going to do, but I’m going to join them.” 
Ruby watched, her mouth hanging open slightly, as Liam sat down at the table and poured himself a glass of wine. Thankfully the conversation had moved on from Mildred and her tremendous bosoms, and now they were talking about boxing. Or at least, that’s what Ruby thought they were talking about. Graham was showing Henry some kind of hand maneuver and then punched him in the face.
“So sorry,” Graham said, patting Henry on the back. But Ruby could just see the right corner of his mouth curving up ever so slightly. “Won’t hurt for long, I’m sure. My chin is feeling better already.” 
Henry grunted something that was probably along the lines of it not hurting a bit, but he still rubbed his chin nonetheless.
“Sir Graham,” Ruby said loudly, “might I have a word with you?”
“Of course,” he said, standing up immediately, although all the men should have been on their feet, since she’d never vacated her presence in the doorway.
Graham walked quickly, or as quickly as he was able in his inebriated state, to her side. “Is anything amiss?” he asked.
“I was worried that I was going to return to find that they’d killed you!” she hissed.
“Oh.” He smiled, that loopy, three-glasses-of-wine sort of smile. “They didn’t.”
“I can see that,” she ground out. “What happened?”
He looked back over at the table. Liam was eating the meager scraps that David had left behind (almost certainly because he didn’t realize they were there), Killian was tipping back in his chair trying to balance it on two legs, and Henry was humming to himself with his eyes shut and a rather pleased smile on his lips - presumably thinking about Mildred, or more likely, certain large and squishy parts of Mildred. Graham turned back to her and shrugged. 
“When,” Ruby said, holding on to her patience and her temper with both hands, “did you all become the best of friends?”
“Oh,” he said, nodding seriously. “Funny thing actually. I told them to break my legs.”
Ruby just stared at him, mouth agape. As long as she lived, she’d never understand men. She had four brothers, and quite frankly should have understood them better than most women. But after twenty-eight years, she finally came to a quite certain realization: All men were freaks.
Graham shrugged again. “It seemed to break the ice.”
“Clearly.”
She stared at him, and he stared at her, and Liam stared at them from the table. Graham sobered. “We’ll have to marry.”
“Yes, I know.”
“They really will break my legs if we don’t.”
“That’s not all they would do,” she grumbled, “but even so, a lady might like to think she’s been chosen for a reason other than osteopathic health.”
Graham simply blinked at her.
“What?” she snapped. “I’ve studied Latin.”
“Right,” he said, drawing it out like men did when they were trying to disguise that they really didn’t know what to say.
“Or at least,” she tried again, desperately searching for some other word that might be loosely interpreted as a compliment, “if not a reason other, than perhaps a reason in addition.”
“Right,” he said again, but nothing more.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked over at the table. “How much wine have you drunk?”
“Only three,” he assured her. “Or maybe, four.”
“Glasses or bottles?” He didn’t seem to know the answer to that. Ruby could see four bottles littering the table. Three of them were empty.
“I wasn’t gone that long,” she said, incredulously.
Graham shrugged again. “It was either drink with them or let them break my legs. Seemed like a very sound decision.”
“Liam,” she called. She’d had quite enough of Graham, her brothers… everything, in fact. Marriage, men, giant bosoms, broken legs, and empty wine bottles. But most of all, she’d had enough of feeling so out of control, so helpless against the tides of her life.
“I want to go,” she said.
Liam nodded and grunted, still chewing the solitary piece of chicken David had missed.
“Now, Liam.”
He must have heard the crack in her voice, the hollow note that choked on the syllables, because he stood immediately, her other brothers quickly following suit.
Ruby had never been happier to see the inside of a carriage in all her life.
~*~*~
Thank you for reading and sharing! I'd love to know what you think! Next ch will post before I go to bed Friday night!
19 notes · View notes
specialarrogance · 5 months ago
Text
caught in a misunderstanding
ao3
the thing about having a not-friend whose circle of friends extends towards even the most obscure program there is in university is that — one would often discover new things without one's consent.
cressida cowper, for all her power and control over her life, can never seem to escape the force that is eloise bridgerton.
(she doubts she even wants to, but that's a topic for another day.)
eloise is everywhere; like a looming presence behind her that will inevitably put a calling hand on her shoulder to pull her into one of her profound conversations about whatever interesting thing she's learned from her many university acquaintances yet again.
cressida doesn't enjoy it nor does she detest eloise's many fun facts, but to admit the latter out loud is simply the equivalent of admitting defeat — and gods know, cressida is the last person to ever admit defeat to any fight, whether acknowledged by many or simply curated by herself alone.
once upon a time, cressida did try to avoid her at all costs. after all, they aren't exactly what one would call friends, and, over time, she has developed a talent in keeping her face as unreadable as possible whenever she's in the presence of eloise, lest people think she actually enjoys the bridgerton's company.
but as is proven time and time again, eloise always has a way of breaking her control over the thinnest strand of muscle in her body.
"guess what?"
cressida's eye twitches when eloise's question interrupts the flow of her typing. her fingers pause over her keyboard and with much effort, she pulls her gaze from the screen of her laptop, lips pulling into a tight smile as she regards her not-friend with an inquiring look.
"what, eloise?"
"i have made a new acquaintance," eloise grins, propping herself beside cressida on the wooden bench. "a marine biologist."
"perfect," cressida sniffs. "no wonder you smell like fish."
eloise makes an indignant noise. "i'll have you know, she—"
cressida's eye twitches again.
"— has to be the fairest lady i've met today, both in scent and appearance."
cressida fights the urge to roll her eyes to the point of hurting. she's a cowper, for god's sake. why is she wasting time listening to eloise speak of the fairest lady she's met today?
what am i, then? cressida thinks to herself. chopped liver?
"does your introduction to your new acquaintance have a direction," cressida pauses to let out the most unladylike sigh, if only so she can truly express how uninterested she is about this marine biologist who doesn't smell like fish for some reason. "or am i allowed to go back to my work, eloise?"
"everything i say always has a direction, cressida," eloise says, clicking her tongue as she turns to her messenger bag and shoves her hand deep into it, searching.
cressida turns back to her laptop, finishing the sentence she'd left behind in favor of giving her full attention to eloise. she misses most of what comes after the last thing she heard from eloise while typing. funnily enough, when clarity comes to her, she hears—
"— gave me an omega."
cressida drops her thumb down on the spacebar a little too hard, silently watching the cursor run across her screen before dropping to the next line.
it takes a while and a hand waving in front of her for cressida to get her wits back, and she turns to eloise with narrowed eyes.
"gave you a what?"
now, cressida may prefer the classier side of fiction and fanfiction, but she's not as snobby as to not be aware or familiar with certain... tropes on the internet.
she must have misheard it. surely, she must have.
but eloise is smiling, clearly pleased with herself for having said something that cressida is not familiar with for the first time in a while. "an omega. she gave it to me last night and, cressida, when i tell you i have not slept that peacefully in a very long while." eloise sighs wistfully as she straightens up and places a hand on the small of her back, kneading at it through her shirt. "did so well at distracting me from my pains, really."
that does it.
cressida scoffs. "excuse me?"
eloise blinks. "what—"
schoolwork completely forgotten, cressida slams her laptop shut and turns to eloise with a face crumpled in scandal. "i cannot believe you'd have the audacity to be so shameless with your— your perversion! here! outside, at the park, where everybody can possibly hear you speak so freely about such things."
cressida has gone red in the face, even her neck, and she's warm all over from the embarrassment of seeing images of eloise in compromising positions, of imagining that bloody marine biologist all over eloise while posing as a— an omega, of all things!
gods, the humiliation of it all.
cressida begins to gather her things, shoving notebooks and pens into her bag, completely missing the calling of her name until—
"cressida cowper, will you listen for just one second?!"
the tone in eloise's voice meant business, and that is enough to stop cressida from her frenzied attempt at an escape. she stills and finally looks at eloise, ready to let her emotions get the best of her again until she notices a tube in eloise's hand.
yellow, shiny, and bearing the name OMEGA across its front.
"... what."
"did you even hear what i said?" eloise scoffs. "i said she just came back from their trip to asia and she brought me this as a souvenir, told me this works wonders on muscle pain."
cressida blinks again. "what..."
"what did you think i was talking about?" eloise asks incredulously, waving the tube around in her frustration. "this is the problem with you, cressida cowper. you never listen. you always jump to conclusions and fuck, does it infuriate me and endear me at the same time."
oh, but cressida cowper is listening now. the confusion that trickled into her anger earlier has morphed into pure curiosity when eloise's last few words finally registered in her head. blinking languidly, she places her bag back on the bench, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she leans forward to get a closer look at her not-friend.
"repeat the last thing you said."
eloise scoffs, but her cheeks begin to glow a pretty pink she's always loved on her own skin. "of course, you'd cling onto anything that sounds like a compliment to you — vague or not."
"fine," cressida recedes, crossing her arms over her chest while raising a perfect eyebrow. "then i won't—"
"oh, you won't escape my questioning, cressida cowper," eloise wags a finger in front of cressida's face. "what was that reaction, hm? perversion? really? over a pain relief cream?"
cressida has the grace to flush, embarrassment flooding her once more at the reminder of her ridiculous reaction.
"nothing you must bother yourself with," cressida replies haughtily and, after a brief moment of arguing with herself whether she should ask eloise again about what she said, ultimately decides to grab her things and escape, taking full advantage of her longer limbs to escape eloise's calls and beckoning.
she'll have plenty of time to confront eloise of her apparent endearment for cressida.
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Trouble's Brewing Remake: What's it about, and why is it happening?
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//So, I think I kept everyone waiting for quite a while after I announced this, and I think it's finally time that I explain what's going to happen with this arc, and what it's all about.
//After some deep reflection and feedback, I realized there were areas that could be improved, and I’m really excited about the direction this rewrite is taking. I know some of you might have questions, so I wanted to address a few that might be on your mind. From what inspired the change, to how this will affect the story moving forward, and what new things you can expect, I’ll cover it all right here.
//No need for a long, drawn out explanation, so let's get started.
1 - Why is Trouble's Brewing being re-written?
//The simple answer is because it's easily the most outdated arc of the story.
//For those who haven't seen the beginning of this blog, this was before I came up with the structure that I currently have, and suffice to say, the plot of the first arc was rushed, and didn't really explain ANYTHING. It was just a quickly fumbled together introduction with no real characterization.
//Basically, all it was designed to do was drop Shuichi and his friends into the world, and it didn't have much of a story besides that.
//The reason why I'm rewriting Trouble's Brewing, and making it from scratch, is to take that plot, and actually make a full-length story arc for it, instead of a few quick posts that were hastily scrapped together, and uncomfortably bad compared to my current writing.
//Now, normally, I really hate the idea of going back and recreating work that I've already made, but in this case, I have more than one good reason for doing so. Considering he's still a key player in the story, it's also the first chance I have to actually use Kuripa's new sprites as part of the story, as well as to give a little more early characterization to some characters who severely needed it in preparation for future arcs.
2 - Will the new arc change the overall direction of the story?
//Yes, but not massively.
//The general plot of the arc will be the same. It will generally be set up to explain the world, the current state of the Future Foundation, as well as introduce the V3 kids into the fray, and the OC's like Kuripa.
//All this is is me taking that original story, and expanding it into something full fledged, like all the current arcs do.
3 - Are key characters being changed or removed?
//I'm sure a lot of people are wondering this, and the answer is yes.
//Because this takes place at the very beginning of the story, the following characters, who only appear in later arcs, will not be featured: Junko Chiaki Alter Ego Junko Kizakura Munakata Yukizome Kaede Ryoma Kirumi Angie Tenko Miu Kaito Kokichi Tsumugi Keebo Gonta Rantaro Kiyo Monaca Yuta Taichi Sora Mikako Teruya Setsuka Iroha Syobai Mikado Kanata Kanade Akane Taira Ando Hibiki Yamato Akeru Mikihiko Yosaku Kana Misako Kanjiro Seina Shozo Ryo Akira Narumi Misuzu Eloise Taulner Kibin Karma Matta Tsutsuji Ella Hanami Mii-Yu Mona Eden Maya Four Hunter Kouji Leona Oliver Yomi Yui Kanon Natsumi Kuroba Solana
//And a few other characters on top of that. Just...anybody who was not present prior to the first arc, so most of the V3 characters, sans Shuichi, Maki, and Himiko
//However there are also characters that will be coming back for the arc, namely Hajime, Yukari, and regular Himiko.
4 - How will the asks function? Will there be any for this arc?
//To make it easier on myself, no. But I will not be closing the box during the duration.
//Asks will be asked in the context of where the story is currently. Because it's a rewrite, I want Trouble's Brewing to be entirely story.
//After all, there's not much point in asking questions when most people already know the current plot developments. There isn't much potential for questions when the reset button gets hit.
5 - How different will the rewritten arc be from the original?
//As I said before, the basic plot is the same, but it's been expanded to include more character moments, story beats, and just...plot in general. Below, I've included some of the important considerations for those looking forward to it:
The main characters of the arc are the Branch 14 trio, i.e. Makoto, Mukuro, and Kuripa.
As teased in the title though, all the main protagonists (with the exception of Kaede, who is not present at this point in the story) will play significant roles in the plot, Shuichi especially.
Yukari Koime will be the main antagonist of the arc. The reason is because I feel that her introduction in Neo World was a bit too bare bones for how important she is throughout Phases 1 and 2, and I wanted more of a chance to have her be the main antagonist.
The big key difference of this arc, compared to the original, is that Maki and Himiko don't just show up as easily as Shuichi does. Like in the original Trouble's Brewing, Shuichi will appear through a wormhole and arrive on Jabberwock Island, but unlike their rushed arrival in the original arc, the main plot of this new arc will involve the Future Foundation tracking down and rescuing Maki and Himiko, to help reunite them with Shuichi. Effectively, it;'s something of a Saving Private Ryan kind of story.
6 - Will we see new scenes or characters?
//Yes, and yes.
//Although, for whatever new characters we DO add to this, don't expect them to stick around for the rest of the story. We need to kind of retain the canonicity, and it doesn't make sense for new characters to appear, and then not be present for the rest of the story.
//The new scenes are designed to better establish the current state of the world 8 years after DR3, and to establish the new characters, like Kuripa and Mukuro, although they don't have their current development, of course.
7 - Can we still access the original version?
//Yes, of course, it should hopefully still be up. But the whole premise of this is to improve the first part of the story, so hopefully, you won't need, nor want to after this.
8 - Will the themes or tone of the story change?
//I can't say for certain, but if they do, it'll likely be to better elaborate and improve upon the general themes of Survivor as a whole, so that new readers can get better acquainted with the premise.
//I think for now, that's it. If there are any other questions about this, please ask me, and I will answer as best I can.
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woeismyhoe · 5 months ago
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I'm gonna preface this by saying I have no problem with representation. I love queer stories, especially when they're organic and natural. I'm bi, and I've had fulfilling relationships with women as well as men. Honestly, I would love a spin-off on Brimsley and Reynolds. It didn't feel.....forced. the characters were new and their story grew organically. Michaela? No. I'm trying to articulate how I feel without sounding like I hate the queer community because I genuinely don't. I appreciated Benedict's story line even if it was a little jarring. He's exploring, experimenting and that's fine. It still doesn't take away from his story. But the introduction of Michaela felt like a guy punch. It felt wrong. I've never particularly like gender swapping in stories based on an original IP, because it changes a lot of dynamics. It changes a lot of story lines. And yes, it's fiction, but I'm sorry I cannot get over it, especially when it's such a blatant case of pandering. It makes me feel as if I'm wrong to question this change and I've somehow internalised homophobia. If so, then why wouldn't I hate other queer characters or be similarly uncomfortable?
Okay I think I can make my argument clear with an example. If anyone has seen the movie Love Lies Bleeding, I think they'll get it. The sexual orientation of the characters didn't matter. It felt right. And it was not important to the story. It was just an established dynamic and we could enjoy the plot easily. It wouldn't have mattered if it was a heterosexual couple or a homosexual couple, the story is largely unchanged. If Michael becomes Michaela, here's the issues I see. Who inherits Kilmartin. We've already established an estate will go to the next male heir if the current owner dies. A major part of Michael's story was his guilt over his inheritance and his imposter syndrome. His story arc taking his place in parliament. It's all gone. I mean, I know the show isn't interested in the plots other than the main character pairing but this felt so wrong. If they wanted a lesbian lead, the just make another show with original characters why force this? I'm not looking forward to Francescas season at all. I'm sure a lot of people will like it and that's their prerogative but for me, personally, the only thing keeping the story moving forward is Benedict. Maybe Eloise. But I feel like the story of the show has lost its charm and has dug itself into a hole like Disney or marvel
I’m going to try to be respectful as possible. As a lesbian, it’s deeply concerning and infuriating to me how so many people including ppl from the community have internalized misogyny and homophobia to queer women. Just because you support and don’t have an issue with queer male stories doesn’t mean you can’t be homophobic to queer female stories. Just because you’re bi doesn’t mean you can’t be homophobic. Why do you think majority of mlm stories are consumed by women? Why are the stories written and targeted towards women instead of the couple’s own community?
There’s an issue going on right now where many fans are okay and THRILLED with Benedict being bi and sleeping with a man, yet complaining about Francesca and Michaela— both have revealed that they have a potential to turn into queer stories. But no one’s batting an eye to Sophie being erased for Benedict’s potential gay partner. People are more okay with a lesbian Eloise than Francesca, and maybe because Eloise fits the stereotype more than Francesca. Why????
Maybe you need to reflect on why you’re feeling this way since you’re clearly favoring queer male stories over queer female stories. Why is a straight male character’s arc more important than a sapphic character who can go through the same arc and even MORE? Why are you okay with Benedict but not with Francesca? Why does Brimsley and Reynolds feel natural but Francesca and Michael is forced and pandering? Why is making sapphic representation pandering unless it’s based on stereotypes, but not gay representation?
This is Bridgerton. They made POCs part of the elites, it’s not historically accurate, the medicine and technology isn’t historically accurate. I see no reason why they won’t change the law at some point for it to be possible for a woman to inherit titles and estates. Even if they don’t go into that direction, I’m pretty sure there’s a lot more story to explore for a sapphic character.
There’s so many variants of Michael in other stories and media, he’s not special. But Michaela?? How many stories are there even in the mainstream media where we get a happy WLW couple that doesn’t end in tragedy? Literally 0. There’s no happy ending anywhere in popular media because Bury Your Gays is the default fate of every queer female story that gets even slightly popular. You say make a new show with sapphic characters yet 90% of the time they get cancelled after the first season and this is something we’ve been dealing with for decades and trying to call out.
So again, why is a straight couple’s story more important to you than a WLW couple who can offer a more unique, nuanced portrayal of yearning, desire, betrayal to one’s self, crisis of faith, even loss of identity and room to show politics in the Bridgerton world like how they did with Queen Charlotte— and make a bigger impact on how the public perceives queer women?
You’re uncomfortable with a queer female character changing what you know and are familiar with in the books— that she can’t possibly compare to what a male character can offer. It’s ironic how awfully similar that sounds to homophobes who can’t accept the existence of queer women in society because god forbid a woman can do what a man can for a woman, or even do better.
Don’t watch it if you don’t want to. The rest of us will feel valued and seen and enjoy it together when the season comes out while you distance yourself further from the sapphic community.
TLDR; Queerness makes the story richer than any straightness will.
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arrows-unofficial-ocs · 2 months ago
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OC Introductions: Eloise Cassandra Kittredge (PJO)
As a daughter of Hecate, Eloise Kittredge has the ability to conjure magic and, as it turns out, she’s also in charge of a quest. She’s not exactly interested in leading a quest, especially for a mother who never helped her when she needed it the most. See, when Eloise was nine years old, her father, a street magician, disappeared. For the next two years, she lived on her own before something — or someone — guided her to Camp Half-blood. That’s where she spent the next five years waiting away in the Hermes Cabin, much to her displeasure. It wasn’t that Hermes was bad, it’s just that the cabin was so overcrowded. But just as the battle in Manhattan ends, Eloise is claimed by Hecate— and sure, El’s a little bitter that it hadn’t come sooner. But, as they sit around that campfire, she knows that nothing good can come from turning down a quest assigned to you by the gods. So, she agrees and knows exactly who she’s picking, Landon McCallister and Val Flores. And no, she doesn’t have a crush on Landon. He’s a sensible pick (and maybe she actually does have a crush on the hockey-loving son of Hepheastus, so what?). 
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portrayed by teagan croft
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karikarasuno · 2 years ago
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sonder ch. i
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Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader x Levi Ackerman
Rating: Mature
Warnings/Tags: Angst, Character Introductions, Setting Descriptions, Fun Little Friendship Development
Word Count: 6.3k
song(s) for the chapter: left side by eloise, let me go by ogi
a/n: today snuck up on me, so please enjoy if you decide to read. this chapter is mainly just a lot of establishing this little world i worked to create. also, each chapter will be accompanied by a few songs bc i curated a very lengthy playlist for this bad boy. have fun and thank you<3
masterlist | chapter i | chapter ii
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It was a matter of principle. A finite decision that you shouldn’t regret, but couldn’t help to. Goodbyes were abstract. Conceptual. But they held enough weight to drag your shoulders to the earth and your body ached. From head to toe. 
It was a matter of principle. But maybe it shouldn’t be yours. Even so, it was much too late to turn back now. 
The bricks were a burnt red. Stacked tightly on top of each other to present to you your new home. The metal stairs leading up to the door were rusted, slightly corroded from decades of being exposed to the elements, and the matching gate was really in no better shape. The rest of the block looked identical. A row of Victorian brownstones, historically standing on the west end of the city. Surviving a century of life, love, and bullshit. 
Your palm was sticky where it met the plastic handle of your suitcase. The sun beared down with the pressure of impending war, but the light breeze that cut through the valleys of the tall buildings provided you with some relief. The key was buried somewhere in the bottom of your purse, having fallen there semi-forgotten as you lugged only a quarter of your belongings from home. Or what used to be home. Because you were staring at your new home. The pit in your chest dropping to your stomach with the realization. 
The latch on the small gate was stuck when you pulled on it, the metal rusted enough not to allow it to remove itself seamlessly. And sweat started to gather at your brow and right between your shoulder blades. A single droplet slipped its way down the curve of your spine and frustration started to build when your damp fingers slid over the rough, orange metal. You bent your body forward, using whatever upper body strength you had and finally pulled away the latch with a squeaky screech from the gate. 
Since it was midday during the week, there weren’t many people on the street to witness your embarrassing stunt. Just you and the sun. Which seemed to be taunting you with the way your body rose in temperature and your cheeks overheated. Your luggage clinked against each step as you made your way to your door, your purse falling from its place on your shoulder and finding solace in the crook of your elbow. Where you could hear the keychain jingle with every slap the bag made against your calf. You were really starting to regret just tossing the keys in your purse after you picked them up from the realty office on the opposite side of the city. Your hands doing nothing, but fumbling around the contents of your purse in vain. 
The train passed your area somewhere in the distance. The sound was so loud it resembled a sudden downpour or white noise. Your fingers looped through the keychain, a puff of relief falling from your lips as you yanked it from your purse, a loose chapstick flying out and landing with a silent thump in the dried out garden. You suppressed an eye roll, this move had been less than ideal and it didn’t help that you haven’t slept in a week. You pushed the memories from back home to the furthest corner of your mind, the ache in your chest flaring with the thought and you fought the nausea that’s been swirling around your stomach as you stuck the key in the lock and twisted. 
It was humid inside. The house obviously closed up for a few months before now. You slid your luggage around the empty living room as you looked around and it was unsettling. The idea of building something from scratch on your own. 
You left your family behind. Friends, too. But the disgusting ache in your gut had more to do with your empty ring finger. A thin line lighter than the rest of your complexion served as the only reminder of what you lost. 
With the house so empty, the only thing that accompanied you was the echo of your footfalls as you walked around. You hadn’t been alone in years, not that you were afraid of it. It was just too quiet, too uncomfortable. And items you purchased to fill the space hadn’t arrived yet, your mattress supposedly being delivered later that day, so you would at least have something to sleep on. 
You started your new job on Monday. The job of your dreams. And the only reason you moved halfway across the country with nothing but a large suitcase, a purse, and the idea of feeling whole again. The phone in the back pocket of your jeans vibrated, probably your mother messaging you to ask if you made it okay. But not without the undertone of disappointment for leaving the way you did. 
Admittedly it was abrupt. You had a fiancé, a house together, a cat that you shared, and enough of a perceived reality of what your future would be like to have been happy. You should’ve felt like you had everything and more. But as he followed his dreams, every day it felt more and more like you were leaving yours somewhere in your past. 
You went around and tested all the lights, the space brightening as you made your way through the property. You were pleasantly surprised. Buying a house without touring it first was risky. A decision you made last minute when you couldn’t justify the price of rent being just as much as a mortgage. If not more. 
And you always dreamt of living in a brownstone. It was so different from the cookie cutter suburban neighborhoods you were used to. Something you grew tired of quicker than you’d cared to admit.
But you were oddly starting to miss that familiarity. Especially since you had no boxes, no belongings. Nothing. A sharp loneliness trickled into your bloodstream. Pumping in and out of your heart, and you briefly wondered when the aches would fade. Or if this was a burden you’d have to carry for the rest of your life. 
You unpacked what little belongings you had. Grateful for the hangers left behind by the old owners and the dresser made of thick and sturdy wood pressed into the far corner of the master bedroom. You then decided to stop at the store to buy cleaning supplies from the supermarket a few blocks from your place. And when you arrived home it wasn’t without the company of a sticky sweat and heated cheeks. But you slipped the gloves on anyway, laying out your sprays and scrubs on the kitchen island as you surveyed what you should clean first. 
You started with the bathroom. Already anticipating the shower you’d be taking when all of this was over. And sometime between you scrubbing the grout of the bathroom tile, packages began arriving. Your mattress and some sheets, at first. Then a vacuum you didn’t remember ordering. And much later, a silverware set. The same exact one that had been on your bridal registry. You were positive you didn’t order it because that would be a special kind of torture. And the only person who knew your new address was your mom. So when you pulled it out from inside of the box, a small gift note fluttered out alongside it. 
For when you find someone to eat with again. xo, Mom.
The burn of tears started in the back of your throat. You cleared it to no avail and the burn traveled to your lash line. Wet and stinging. You didn’t want to cry. Not on your first day away from home. You swore you were stronger than this. More resilient. But when a tear spilled over onto your cheek, hot and unexpected, you choked on a sob. Your head fell into your hands and your breathing stuttered from your nose. The note in your hand crumpled where you gripped it, the white card stock darkening when stray tears dotted it as they fell. She meant well and you knew that. But you couldn’t help the bite behind her words that nipped at your skin, digging into the wounds of your heart that you alone created. 
You decided to call it a night. The sun had already set and your home was lit only by artificial light. The shower was cold at first since you didn’t wait long enough for the water to heat up, but you stood beneath the stream anyway— subconsciously doing your nightly routine as if your world was as it’s always been.
Belatedly, you realized that you didn’t have a pillow, or even a real blanket to sleep with. Just a top sheet and a crumpled up ball of clothes. It was humbling, honestly. Going from having almost everything you could’ve dreamt of to an empty house and an emptier heart. But tomorrow you would begin to fill one of those things. The other is disregarded until time proved it really did heal. 
Monday arrived far quicker than you expected it to. The days that led up to it were also busy with errands and organizing and shopping. Your closet was now filled with work appropriate clothing organized by color and type— although you weren’t sure how long that would last. The house was still pretty bare but it was starting to feel more like a home instead of the shell of one. You spent hours building your bed frame, the headboard nearly knocking your head clean off when it tipped over because you didn’t screw it in correctly. The kitchen cabinets had a few dishes in them, your mother’s gift still in the box and shoved into the back corner of the pantry. You had ended up buying your own, feeling too odd and unsteady unpacking the ones from your registry and organizing them into the drawer by the stove. The living room still lacked a couch though, figuring that you could do some online browsing for one whenever you had the time. 
For now, you pulled the train routes up on your phone, your bag strap sitting snugly on your shoulder as you tried to differentiate the color of the lines and their respective destinations. You left your car at your parents’ place, figuring you wouldn’t need it since you didn’t intend on leaving the city much. And traveling by train and Uber seemed so much easier. You kicked at the pavement outside of your little gate as you zoomed into the stops, trying and forgetting the street your office was on. You’d only been there once before you got the position. It was the interview you didn’t tell Onyankopon about. The one that eventually ended your engagement. 
“You lost?” There was a deep voice from your right, friendly sounding yet still scaring the shit out of you. Your shoulders jumped to your ears, your head whipping in the direction of the voice, only to be met with golden blonde hair, a broad chest, and startling blue eyes. His smile was kind. And you weren't sure how a man as large as him was able to sneak up on you.
You were hesitant to answer, not entirely sure you wanted to admit to a stranger that you were new to the area while standing outside of your home. He seemed to notice it though, the brief suspicion that flashed in your eyes because he held out his hand— palm up in invitation.
“Sorry, I should introduce myself,” he chuckled, familiar as if he already knew you. “I’m Erwin, your neighbor.” He pointed with his other hand to the brownstone right beside yours. And unlike yours, that garden was flourishing. Brilliant colors danced in the subtle breeze and you were jealous just looking at it. 
You took his hand in yours, and his grip was firm but not forceful. Warm but not overwhelming in this heat. You gave him your name and a small close lipped smile, but not offering much else. And you didn’t really remember when you became so awkward.
“I can help,” he pointed to your phone where the map was still open where you had zoomed in. “I’ve lived here for long enough, it would be embarrassing if I couldn’t.”
You smiled warmly, tilting the phone in his direction before saying, “I’m trying to get to downtown, but I can’t find which stop takes me closest to First St.”
“Oh, I take the same route every morning too,” he said, zooming in and pointing to the green line. The one that dropped you off on Fourth Avenue. “I work at the university which isn’t too far from First. I can walk with you, if you’d like.” 
The nerves that had been building in your chest all morning started to subside with his offer. He seemed genuine enough. And not like he’d lead you to some dark alley to murder you. Your intuition said to trust him, no alarm bells sirening in the back of your mind either. 
“I’d appreciate that, actually.” You hiked your bag up your shoulder, adjusting the strap to keep it from slipping as you fell into step beside him. 
“There’s also this really good coffee shop as soon as we get off the train. The best Americano I’ve had anywhere.” He talked with his hands, fingers closing against his thumb when he said ‘best’. “I can show you where that is too. It’s called The Brewhouse. They switch up their menu seasonally so it’s nice if you like trying new stuff now and again.”
He also talked a lot. An easy confidence where you could tell that he was used to speaking in front of people, captivating a room naturally. But instead of taking him up on the coffee offer, you gestured towards the mug sitting in the side holder of your bag, “I have coffee for today, so maybe another time.”
“Of course,” he beamed, teeth straight and white. And you wondered if you’ve seen him in a magazine somewhere, his clean cut, boyish charm belonging in some catalog to sell men’s watches or something.
“Are you new to the city or just the area?” He asked as you stepped on the crowded platform to wait for the next northbound train. 
“New to the city,” you said, looking over your phone again to check the time, nervous that you’d be late on your first day. “I just moved from the west coast about a week ago.”
“What made you move?” His question was simple and casual, but a burn rose in your chest anyway. You swallowed to appease it, but it was no use. The feeling only lifted to your throat when you sucked in a small breath. 
“Work,” you nodded, looking down the tracks when you heard the train from afar. “My dream job, actually. A position opened up earlier this year so I applied.”
“Congratulations,” he smiled at you when you met his gaze. And it was genuine. Not at all like the half-baked ones you received back home. All of them underlined with pity and questioning that you were never in the mood to indulge. So when you returned his smile, it was real. For the first time since everything went up in flames, there was a semblance of comfort in the decision you had made. 
“Thank you.” 
Erwin ended up walking you all the way to the glass doors of the building’s lobby. When you told him you started at the publishing company, he grinned as if he knew something you didn’t, saying that he knew exactly where that was. You didn’t question the glint of mischief in his eyes, only waving your goodbye when he continued up and around the block. 
The flurries of anxiety were back, though. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach as you squeezed the metal handle to open the deceptively heavy door. According to the email you received from HR a few days before, your office was on the twenty-second floor, so after nodding to the security guard to your left you got into the elevator and hit the button. You were to meet with the head of HR from 9am to 11am before doing a tour until noon when you’d break for lunch. The schedule had been perfectly outlined in the email and you were grateful for that, hoping that the day would go smoothly and that you wouldn’t encounter any awkward lulls before your day ended at five. 
When the doors slid open to your floor, you were greeted with an expansive reception area. The floor to ceiling windows should’ve made the area warm, but there was a kick of air conditioning that had you tightening your cardigan around your torso. The receptionist at the elongated wooden desk was young, early twenties probably as she spoke with a gentle tone with someone over the phone. 
You waved when you approached the desk, lying your palms against the glass top and nodding when she mouthed for you to give her a moment. 
“Sorry about that,” she apologized, shaking her head as she transferred the call. “The phones haven’t stopped this morning.” 
“That’s okay,” you smiled, taking in her blue eyes and blonde hair. You thought back to Erwin, and how nice it was of him to show you the way around the city. Very neighborly. Something you didn’t recall if you’ve ever experienced. 
“You must be our new publisher,” she gathered some papers from inside of a folder by her keyboard, holding them out for you to take. “I’m Historia. I can walk you over to Pixis’ office since he should be ready for you.”
“Thanks,” you said softly, walking through glass double doors to an open space with cubicles in the middle and offices lining the back wall. The large windows extended into this area too with the early morning rays warm against your cheek as you followed Historia to the office in the furthest left corner. She knocked on the door twice before letting herself in. Only to be greeted by a man standing behind his desk, monitors lifted to his eye level while sipping a hot drink from his mug. Coffee, you guessed, from the smell combing through his work space. 
His eyes lifted to the two of you in his doorway, eyebrows rising almost in question as he registered that you must’ve been the new hire. His face was stern, but his eyes were welcoming. They contradicted his features in a near alarming way, until his lips turned upwards in a small smile, thick mustache moving with them. 
“Dot Pixis,” he set down his mug as he sidestepped the length of his desk, “CFO and temporary head of Human Resources.” He held out his hand, yours grabbing his in a firm shake as you introduced yourself. 
“You’re early.” He glanced down at his watch to check the time. “That’s good.”
You smiled and laughed through your nose. “I had some help getting here, if not the train system would’ve been a challenge.”
“Happy to know the city isn’t stripped of its humanity,” Pixis said, motioning for you to sit in the chair in front of his desk. “Now if you’d like, we can get started.”
The following hours were filled with paperwork and videos and more paperwork. All of the required training, Pixis had scheduled one after the other which made for a not so entertaining morning. But when he showed you where your office was, you decided you couldn’t complain. It was in the opposite corner of his, nearly mimicking his exact layout except smaller. Cozier. The furniture was a deep cherry wood, the desk large but not imposing like it should’ve been. There was a small couch pressed into the wall in front of your desk, and beside that was a bookcase. Cherry wood as well, but worn, almost antique looking. And you were obsessed. You were content with the space, already envisioning a future in the office. One of long hours that consisted of early mornings and late evenings. Neither of which seemed like too much to complain about. Given the drastic change of pace your life has taken in less than a month. 
Next stop on your tour was the breakroom. It was nicely located in front of the cubicles in the middle of the office space, and much bigger than you would’ve imagined. There was a long table running down one side of the room with a bench pressed into the wall and chairs lining the other side. Pixis was attempting to show you the mechanics of the coffee machine, which seemed intricate enough with an espresso attachment as well as a milk frother. Not to mention the myriad of buttons that adorned the top. Suffice to say, he was struggling. 
“Boss, there’s no water in it,” said a voice from behind the two of you. He sounded amused and when you turned to look at him he was of average height and build with an overwhelmingly friendly face. He wore a small smile as his eyes flicked over to you and he set down his lunchbox. 
“I’m Moblit Berner,” he held out his hand to you, much like everyone else this morning. “I run the marketing department.”
Pixis allowed Moblit to take over the coffee machine tutorial with a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. Already grumbling something under his breath as the machine made a sputtering noise before coming to life with blinking lights. “The mugs are in the cupboard up here and we keep sugar packets right down here.” Moblit pointed to the cabinet above the machine as well as the drawer beneath it, opening both to show you the wide array of cups and sugar. And even a disturbing variety of creamer flavors. 
“If you have a preference on coffee or creamer flavor, just let us know and we can add it to our next order. Historia usually takes stock for us,” he added, stepping away from you and towards the microwave. Before you could introduce yourself there was a shrill ringtone that interrupted the small batch of silence, loud enough to pierce your eardrums but not seeming to phase Pixis whatsoever when he brought the cell to his ear and waved with two fingers to excuse himself from the kitchen. 
“How’s your first day going?” Moblit asked, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned on the counter behind him. 
“Not too bad. A little course heavy with all the videos required by HR, but,” you shrugged, letting the rest of your sentence drop off when the microwave signaled his food was ready. 
“Oh, those are the worst. How many you got left?”
“None, thankfully. I just completed the sexual harassment module,” you grimaced, remembering the cringey acting and off putting scenarios. 
“And just in time for lunch,” he smiled, hissing suddenly when he burnt his fingertip on the edge of his glass food container. “Did you bring anything?” 
Moblit looked you over, then swept his eyes over the countertops in search of a lunchbox. “I kinda forgot. I packed it last night and then left it on my counter in my rush to find the closest train stop.” 
“Well,” he started, rummaging through his own lunchbox to dig out what looked like three lunches for one day. “You’re in luck. I pack my lunch every night to avoid this, but my partner always finds a way to sneak in more food than I will ever need.” 
“That’s sweet, though,” you laughed, eyeing one of the wraps enclosed in saran wrap. 
“Hange is a big believer in keeping the people fed and drunk.” Moblit pulled out one of those tiny bottles of fireball from the bottom of his mini cooler. “I don’t know why and how they keep dropping this in here.” 
You grinned at his expression, confusion and distaste written plainly on his features as he dropped the bottle back into his bag. He gestured to the array of food on the counter, silently offering you any to choose from. 
“I’m fine, really,” you waved your hand to say no, not wanting to overstep any boundaries on your first day. He was being friendly, and you could tell his offer was coming from a place of sincerity, but you were still settling into this new life. You didn’t want to create relationships so quickly when you weren’t in a place to pull yourself together if they ended badly. 
“I insist,” he urged, pushing the food closer to you. “Because if you don’t it’s just going to end up going bad. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” 
There was a hint of playful maliciousness in his tone, his eyebrow arched and eyes expectant as he waited for what he knew to be a yes. Because you conceded easily, grabbing the wrap from the countertop holding it securely between both of your palms. “Happy?”
“Delighted.”
The routine that followed so easily after that alarmed you. You were introduced to everyone in the office the following day. And were even assigned your own intern. His name was Marco, a rather shy, college student who would often remain in his cubicle conversing with the marketing intern, Jean. You managed to decorate the majority of the bookshelf in your office as the days bled into the other. And you found remnants of what felt like home littering the desk. A globe in the center shelf, worn books your mom had mailed you after you requested them, and a crocheted granny square blanket thrown over the arm of the couch. 
Lunches with Moblit had also persisted. This time with you remembering your own or even wandering down to the cafe around the block from the office. Train rides with Erwin had also become a new normal. Most mornings he’d wait outside your gate, leaning against it usually on his phone as you always left your place just a few moments after he left his. You hadn’t met his partner, Levi, yet, though. One morning questioning if he even existed after so many days of just missing him.
“He can be quite elusive,” Erwin explained, “and not the best around new people.”
“So he’s avoiding me,” you teased, the insecure truth hidden somewhere beneath that statement and you just hoped Erwin wouldn’t catch it. Because if you were being a little bit honest, it stung not having met him yet. Especially when he lived a wall away and you ran into his other half so often. 
“No, he’s just busy,” Erwin tried, his lips downturning slightly, not disguising his uncertainty whatsoever. Though he tried. 
“Right,” you replied with a chuckle and an eye roll, stepping off the train and onto the bustling platform. Spring was pretty quickly disappearing into a sweltering summer. The days only grew hotter as the summer solstice drew nearer. You considered ordering an uber some days because the walk to and from the stop had you sweating by the time you stepped through the cool doors of your office lobby. 
“Listen,” Erwin defended, stepping around someone’s discarded breakfast in what you deemed as a very tragic start to their morning. “The life of a physical therapist can be very demanding.”
“I don’t doubt that,” you replied, shifting your bag to the opposite shoulder once you felt your shirt stick uncomfortably to your skin. “And I’m just joking with you, Erwin. I know he exists, I’ve seen the photos.”
He rolled his eyes, nudging you with his elbow when you reached a crosswalk and waited for it to signal that you two could keep walking. The Brewhouse was in your line of sight, which was a new favorite of yours. The barista managed to memorize your order, since you’ve been there nearly every day since starting your job. And since you always walked in with Erwin it helped because you were convinced she was into him. 
“She has the fattest crush on you, y’know,” you grinned against the straw of your drink, your gloss staining the plastic when you both continued your usual route to your workplace. 
“If that’s true, explain to me why my coffee is never free,” he said as he tipped his americano your way. 
“Because you always insist on paying,” you argued, “and you also tip handsomely, which is why she has the fattest crush on you.”
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Two large pieces of furniture delivered on the same day at your doorstep was not an ideal situation. One being you couldn’t possibly bring them in alone. And two, you didn't have the tools to put together a sectional and a rather tall bookcase on your own either. You stood on the last of your steps, arms crossed over your chest as you stared down at three boxes all perched against your weak metal gate. Which has managed to increase your frustration because how could they deliver this here without you signing off on it? When you explicitly put that in the delivery instructions. Not that it matters much now. Now that you still have three heavy boxes and no way to get them inside. 
“Looks like you could use some help,” a gravelly voice said from just outside the gate beside yours. Short, dark-haired, and slim but lean. He was in a set of black scrubs and a small duffel bag propped on his shoulder. Levi, you determined. The Levi. Erwin’s Levi. 
“It sure does look like that.” 
“Let me put this down and I can give you a hand,” he said, reaching his door quicker than your mind could process and slipping his key into the lock.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you waved your hand at him and shook your head to decline, not wanting to inconvenience him since it seems like he just got off of work. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, one foot over his threshold and his eyes narrowed at you. “I’ll grab some tools we have stored somewhere around here and be right out.”
Before you could argue again, the wooden door slammed shut behind him and you stayed put on the front step. Oddly, you waited for him, not sure how long he would take, but not going back inside your home either. 
“Alright, let’s get this done,” he said, having quickly changed into gym shorts and a fitted t-shirt. He leaned over the gate that separated your properties, handing you a tool bag as he made his way down his stairs through his gate door and beside the boxes in front of your home in no time. He surveyed the dilemma you were having, hands on his hips and brows furrowed in concentration. 
“Where’s Erwin?” You stepped down the final step, walking closer to Levi and noticing that even when his brows weren’t furrowed there was still a wrinkle between them. 
“Monthly meet up with his dad,” he answered, reaching over to grab one of the baskets and tugging it towards him. “I think today they’re golfing.”
He grunted when the box stood upright, unlocking your gate and swinging it open. You took that as your cue to step in. The edges of the box were secure, but there was a dent in one side and a tear in the other. Large red stickers with the word ‘heavy’ printed on them were scattered across the surface. 
“That’s sweet,” you squeezed out between a wheezing breath when Levi let go of the box and you realized how much weight he had actually been holding. You propped some of it onto your chest, stabilizing your feet as you adjusted the weight to be more comfortable in your arms.
“Mmm,” was his only response and also the only noise of warning when he lifted the opposite end nearly knocking you back if you hadn't prepared yourself and steadied your knees. You staggered backwards to accommodate for the length of the box, meeting his gaze on the other end. 
“Ready?” He asked, not looking as winded as you were positive you looked, a sweat already developing on your temple. You walked backwards, eyes glancing over your shoulder and then down between your feet so you wouldn’t miss a step and then eat shit in front of your elusive and busy neighbor. 
The two of you managed to bring in the other two boxes and laid them out in various positions in your living room. You grabbed two water bottles from your fridge, your throat dry from the unexpected exertion. Levi caught your eye when you shut the door behind you with your hip, and you shook the bottle at him in offering. He held out his hand, which you assumed meant yes and you tossed it over to him. The rest of the afternoon followed in a similar fashion, wordless cues as you both built your sofa. He was so different from Erwin it was difficult to imagine them together. Where Erwin chatted and filled every empty space in conversation, Levi seemed to be most comfortable in those empty spaces. And interestingly, you found a gratefulness in that. No wondering questions or pressure to impress someone you were meeting for the first time. He was stoic in his approach, only prompting conversation when it was to ask for a tool or an additional set of hands. 
He was also quite the perfectionist, incessantly tightening screws and testing the integrity of the foundation. He claimed it was so he wasn’t “at fault for being the one to cause harm to Erwin’s train buddy.”
“No way does he call me his train buddy,” you snorted, slightly embarrassed by the nickname. “I refuse to believe that.”
“He’s a dork,” Levi supplied, one corner of his lips turning upwards as he glanced your way. “So, yes he does.”
You grimaced, which earned you a surprising chuckle. Or moreso, an amused breath through his nose. Another hour passed and you and Levi were struggling to lift the bookcase into the corner of your living room. Height a point of contention in your current issue. You stifled a laugh when both of you lost your grip again.
“Don’t laugh,” he huffed, obvious irritation in his voice.
“I’m not. It’s just,” you coughed behind another laugh, helping lay the bookcase back on the ground. “I’m delirious from hunger and we’re…having a hard time.”
“We still have to anchor this to the wall.”
“Mhmm,” you said, wiping your forehead with the edge of your shirt. You didn’t want to instigate him, his glower was frightening so you swallowed down your giggle when you made eye contact. 
“How do you not have a damn step ladder?” His eyes narrowed and the genuine frustration was enough to press your lips together around another amused noise bubbling up your throat.
“Do you have a step ladder?” And his lack of response was enough of an answer for you. Instead, his phone vibrated from his pocket before you could hear the snarky retort that was about to fall from his lips. His eyes scanned his phone screen, stuffing it back in his pocket when he was done.
There was a knock on the door soon after and before you made a move to answer it, Levi took three easy strides towards it revealing Erwin as the door swung open. 
“Well what do we have here?” He was still wearing his golf polo, tucked into a pair of well fitting khakis and a proud grin. One that you didn’t understand until you caught the eyebrow raise he sent Levi, and the head tilt you assumed was in reference to you. Levi grumbled something under his breath, something that you could determine was not nice, but didn’t cause that stupid grin to waver from Erwin’s face when he stepped into your home. 
He walked in like he’d been there a million times. He crossed into your kitchen, propped open your fridge and grabbed a water bottle while he was at it too. You stared with a mixture of shock, confusion, and amusement. While Levi glared in disgust, distaste, and disdain. This could be fun, watching the pair of them interact in an openly intimate and familiar way. Until it caused a sharp twist of something that resembled yearning tug through your chest. A flash of Onyankopon fluttered through your mind, an almost identical scene to this. You missed him. And you haven’t allowed yourself to do that in weeks. 
You missed him. And it burned. 
“Levi was nice enough to help me build my furniture. We’re almost done, actually,” you smiled, knowing it didn’t reach your eyes, but trying to disguise it nonetheless. 
“You need an extra set of hands?” Erwin asked, chugging down half the water bottle as you answered yes, while Levi gave a very stern no. You and Levi turned to each other at the same time and you were once again faced with his scrunched, irritated features. 
“We do,” you said towards Erwin, but answering the expression on Levi’s face. You were expecting him to argue it, expecting a back and forth until one of you conceded and you were feeling stubborn at the moment. But he didn’t. He turned away from the two of you silently with tension in his shoulders while Erwin laughed under his breath at his partner’s theatrics. 
The moment they left, the silence that wrapped around your home was astonishing. You convinced yourself you had become accustomed to the quiet. To just your noises like the shuffling of your socked feet on the rug or the drip of coffee that remained steady for most of the morning. But your noises, and yours alone, started to become frighteningly lonely. You spent hours surrounded by laughter, bickering, and sarcasm. You slipped into a familiar version of yourself that you nearly forgot about. The person before the engagement. The person you sure as hell hadn’t seen since you broke said engagement off. 
The ache you pushed aside into a single chamber of your heart began to bloom. Painful and digging deeply into the veins that surrounded it. You needed a distraction. One that would fill the empty space that was beginning to be intrusive. Suffocating. But you weren’t sure exactly how.
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morganofthewildfire · 2 years ago
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By Your Side
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Happy Yulemas Swap @writtenonreceipts !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This piece was originally supposed to be a whooooole long oneshot but i've been really out of the groove so i was forced to shorten it down to just a snippet, but there's more out there if i ever get the chance to write it!!!
This is very much inspired by your love for my oneshot 2 AM Walks from two years ago 🥰 you were always so nice about that one, so I wanted to deliver you another single parent holiday au! Hopefully you enjoy, this is just an introduction, there's a lot more to this world 😉
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Aelin’s arms were going to fall off. It was official. The dozen plastic grocery bags were digging into her arms, making indents on her skin through her sweater as she struggled to carry them up the stairs. Eloise had asked if she needed help, but all she’d ended up giving to the little girl was one plastic bag, filled with just the little reindeer stuffed animal they’d picked up at the store.
It’d been on sale. That was the only way she’d be able to afford it with all of the money already spent on Yulemas presents. 
Even the price of just groceries and essentials had made her cringe. Sam’s child support hadn’t kicked in yet for the month, but she still needed the food. So she’d done what she had to do.
“Mama!” Eloise called out, skipping ahead up the stairs. “Hurry up!” 
Aelin huffed a laugh, doing her best to walk up the stairs as quickly as possible. Their apartment building had an elevator, but it wasn’t working right now, leaving her and her daughter to trek up five floors worth of stairs every time they went to and from the apartment. 
It was usually a decently slow process; Eloise was still young, still small. She had energy, but didn’t have the size to bound up a set of stairs quickly. But today was different. Her favorite cartoon was having a Yulemas special, and she absolutely could not miss it. 
Nevermind the fact that it was set to record, and that there were still a few dates until Yulemas to watch it. Eloise didn’t think like that.
She wanted to watch it now, And who was Aelin to deny her?
“One second, baby,” she called ahead, “I need to unlock the door for you.” Her daughter had already bounded ahead up the stairs, undoubtedly pushing out onto their floor and hurrying to their apartment door. 
She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to keep the bags stable as she pushed up the last few steps, turning to use her body to open the door to her floor. Eloise was at their door, jiggling in excitement, her light brown curls bouncing up and down as she waited (im)patiently. 
At four years old, Eloise was already beginning to look like Sam. She had the same hair, the same skin, some of the same mannerisms too, but she had Aelin’s eyes. 
Aelin hadn’t expected being married, divorced, and a mother by the age of 25, but here she was. Getting pregnant by her college boyfriend, marrying him, and then subsequently getting cheated on less than a year later had not been in her plans. But even then, she’d given Sam the chance to be a father. 
Yeah, he was a crappy husband, but she was of the belief that that didn’t always indicate if someone would be a good father or not. And she certainly didn’t believe in taking someone’s ability to be a father away just because of a personal grudge. 
But, he hadn’t stepped up. They’d gotten divorced quickly, and she’d asked him about custody, trying to solve it civilly, but he’d just let her take charge. And hadn’t fought her for any visiting rights, just showing up when he wanted to see Eloise, which wasn’t often and never announced despite how much Aelin had complained to him about it.
So when a great job opportunity had opened up for her over in Doranelle, she hadn’t regretted moving away. Sam hadn’t proven that he wanted to be a father, so she was just going to do her damned best to be a great mother. 
But sometimes…it was hard. 
He’d managed to take most of their friends in the divorce, and with the move to a completely new city, there wasn’t anybody for her to rely on except for herself. And -
“Hey, munchkin,” a familiar voice sounded from down the hallway, and her cheeks immediately flushed red. Even though he wasn’t even talking to her. “Where’s your mom?” 
“I’m here,” Aelin called down, smiling lightly at the man exiting the apartment next to theirs, clearly concerned about why a four year old girl was standing by herself in the hallway. 
When that green gaze shifted and locked eyes with hers, she felt her heart squeeze almost painfully. But she ignored it, walking down the hallway and still trying not to drop all of the bags she’d so painfully carried up the stairs. 
Rowan Whitethorn was an interesting case. He was their next door neighbor, and had been one of the only ones to introduce himself, but not of his own volition. They’d run into each other in the hallway, literally, and after being on the receiving end of his frown for a solid minute or so, he’d finally straightened up and introduced himself.
That’d been a few months ago, and since then they’d settled into friends? Kind of? It was difficult to tell. 
Yes, he was hot. Yes, he was charming in a shy way that was incredibly endearing. Yes, he was amazing with Eloise. In fact, the little girl adored him. It was nice to see her willing to open up to someone after the disappointment that was Sam. But, because of Sam, was she really willing to entertain the possibility of more heartbreak?
Aelin wasn’t sure.
“Need any help?” Rowan asked, breaking her out of her thoughts, and she was about to shake her head no, but he was already walking over, relieving her of the burden of probably 75% of the bags. She nearly sighed in relief, her arms sagging, and she resented a little how easy he made it look. But she also had to hide the blush that spread on her face at the strength it showed.
“Sure, I guess,” Aelin said faintly, smiling at him as he gestured for her to head toward the door.
“I think someone’s in a rush,” Rowan said, nodding at Eloise, who was standing at the front door, bouncing back and forth on her feet.
“Her favorite show is starting soon,” Aelin said, rolling her eyes, but obeyed her daughter’s plea, taking out her keys and opening the door. Eloise bounded in, skipping toward the carpet in front of the TV, laying down almost immediately and kicking her feet. 
Rowan gestured for her to go, and Aelin stepped inside her warm apartment, setting the few bags she had left on the counter and sighing as she took off her heavy coat. It was starting to get really cold outside. 
But still no snow. 
“Thanks for the help,” Aelin said as Rowan set the rest of the bags down on the counter. But he just dismissed her thanks with a shake of his head and a smile. And even started unpacking the bags, taking all of the groceries she’d bought at the store and beginning to sort them on the counter. 
“Where were you off to in such a rush?” Aelin asked with a small smile, hoping he understood it was teasing and not accusing. But he caught on, rolling with her punches as easily as he had in the few months they’d known each other. 
“Lawyers,” Rowan said, smiling weakly. It was an answer, and he didn’t seem annoyed at her question, but he didn’t seem as lighthearted as before. 
“Oh?” Aelin asked, helping him get everything out of the bags. Most important was the gingerbread house kit she’d bought. It was a bit of a splurge, and she’d cringed at the price, but making a gingerbread house had been on Eloise’s list for what she wanted to do this Yulemas, so she couldn’t say no. 
It was their first one without Sam at least around, so Aelin wanted to do everything she could to make it a great one.
“Aren’t you going to be late?” She questioned, but he just shrugged. Aelin didn’t want to pry, but she couldn’t deny she was curious.
“Doesn’t matter,” Rowan dismissed, with a loose shrug as he opened the fridge to put away a carton of milk. “She’s going to be late too, anyway.”
Aelin’s brows shot up, but she knew better than to ask, deciding to just help put the rest of the groceries away instead, in silence. It wasn’t awkward, but there was a bit of tension there that wasn’t there before. She was tempted to ask if he was okay.
But she wouldn’t. She didn’t want to risk losing the tentative friendship they had by making things uncomfortable. Not that they really had too much of a friendship. He had her number, and they’d texted maybe once or twice. But mostly it consisted of him helping her out with chores and things like that.
Rowan always insisted she call him if she needed help with anything. Aelin had only taken him up on that a few times, one notable time being when the sink faucet was broken and she needed someone besides their incompetent landlord to look at it. 
He’d obliged, and fixed it in twenty minutes, before staying over for dinner and watching a princess movie, at Eloise’s insistence. 
“Do you think it’s going to snow soon?” Aelin asked, after a few moments of silence. The only sound in the apartment was the cartoon on the TV and the rustling of grocery bags being balled up and put away.
Rowan hummed a bit in consideration, glancing out the small window in the kitchen. “It’s hard to predict, but I would say so.” 
“I promised Eloise a white Yulemas, so it better.” Aelin huffed a laugh, setting the gingerbread kit on the now clear counter. He leaned against the counter, looking over at her with a smile.
“Then you better tell the sky it needs to listen to you,” he teased, and she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, looking up at him.
“I’ll use my mom voice,” she said, lifting her brows. “It’ll have to listen to me then.” 
They grinned at each other for a moment, before his phone rang. He sighed and broke their stare, checking who was calling. But he didn’t answer it, just rejecting the call and sliding the device back into his jeans pocket.
“I better go,” he said, pushing off of the counter.
“Okay,” Aelin said, nodding. But her heart felt like it was shrinking at the idea of him leaving, even if it was only for a little bit. Even if he lived next door. It was just…nice. Being able to pretend in a way. Pretend that she wasn’t alone, that she had someone by her side to make sure the weight of everything she was carrying didn’t pull her down completely. 
It wasn’t fair of her to do that; he didn’t owe her anything. But she couldn’t deny the way she felt no matter how much she wanted to.
She walked him toward the front door, about to see him out when -
“Wait, are you leaving?” Eloise asked, darting up from her spot on the carpet and prancing over to the door. Her eyes were wide and sad. Aelin was just surprised she’d been able to unglue them from the TV.
“Rowan’s gotta go, sweetie,” she said, brushing a hand through her daughter’s curls. “He was just stopping by to help keep my arms from falling off.”
Her daughter’s blue eyes started watering and she clung onto Rowan’s leg, as if she could keep him there by sheer force of will.
“Eloise,” Aelin chastised, but he just laughed. 
“I’d stay if I could, Firefly,” he said fondly, ruffling her hair. “But your mom’s right, I have to go.”
Her daughter’s face could win a record for how pouty it was, and a laugh bubbled out of her too.
“Let him go, baby,” Aelin urged, laughing while she did. “You’ll see him soon.” 
Rowan’s brow shot up, and Aelin winced, especially as her daughter piped up.
“Yeah! You’re coming over for Yulemas Eve right?” Eloise asked, finally letting him go and bouncing a little bit as she spoke.  “My mama said she was going to ask.”
Rowan turned his green eyes on her then, and Aelin’s heart thundered in her chest. But she forced herself to do what she’d been putting off for a few days now.
“I didn’t know if you had any plans,” she spoke, a little stilted. “But if you didn’t, me and Eloise are just hanging out here if you need something to do.” Rowan didn’t seem to have a lot of people coming over, nor did he seem like he went out much, which was the only reason she’d actually considered asking.
And once she’d voiced the idea to Eloise, she’d had quite the enthusiastic support.
“I’d love to,” Rowan answered, before she could stuff her foot in her mouth anymore. 
“Yeah?” She asked, and a blush spread across her cheeks when he smiled at her. 
“If I wouldn't be intruding, yeah.” He shrugged, his smile settling into a half quirk of his lips. It was incredibly endearing. Aelin normally prided herself on never getting flustered, at always being the one holding the power in a conversation, especially with men. But it hadn’t been the same since moving out on her own with Eloise, or maybe it was just Rowan.
Either way, she’d be embarrassed if it didn’t seem like he found her endearing too. 
“So you are coming!” Eloise piped in, a wild smile on her little face, and Aelin was once again reminded of another exception surrounding Rowan. Her daughter could be the shyest person you’d ever meet around most strangers, but pretty much from the moment she’d met Rowan, she’d been a bundle of energy. 
It hadn’t been instantaneous, but it’d been pretty damn close.
“Looks like it,” Rowan chuckled, before crouching down by Eloise and tapping her on the nose. “Now, the quicker you guys put away the food, I bet the quicker you’ll get to work on that gingerbread house I saw on the counter.” Her eyes went wide. “So you better be good and help your mom out, alright?”
Eloise nodded rapidly, bouncing on her feet once again. He straightened up, about to head out the door before pausing and turning back to Aelin.
“See you in a few days,” he said, with a wink, and she could barely squeeze out a bye with the little breath she had.
The lingering fear of commitment was still there, and wouldn’t go away for a while, but she was also pretty sure this was going to be one of her favorite Yulemases yet.
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spaceorphan18 · 4 months ago
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The Lady Whistledown Papers : 1x01 - A Diamond of the First Water (Part 2)
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Hi! Welcome back to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I'm taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton's character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton! If you're looking for previous entries you can find them here :: Back Issues
Formal Introduction to Lady Whistledown
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After the credits, we get a bunch of news boys running around spreading the Lady Whistledown pamphlet -- and while she narrated the opening, it's here that we get here formal introduction. She's rather biting in her first issue, and I find it fascinating that Penelope, in her writing, would come out swinging strong. She wanted to make an impact and grab the reader's (and the audience's) attention. But her commentary about bearing her teeth is a way for Penelope to attempt appear strong, confident, and dangerous right off the bat.
It's really fascinating that she does this as an introduction, because it's such the opposite of her natural personality. Sure, we'll learn that Penelope can definitely hold her own when she needs to. But only, really, when back into a corner. She prefers being the soft, romantic lost her own world, daydream of love and romance. But while the harshness of her first issue is a bit of her playing a role with LW, eventually, she does find her own voice in her writing, and LW shifts to reflect that.
I also want to note that she doesn't start the pamphlet with her eventual 'dearest gentle reader'. I'll have to listen for when that happens.
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It's funny the show as a whole has a very different dynamic in the first season. Despite the comedic opening and lighthearted credits and brightly lit and colorful world, the first season is a little more biting. There's swearing and smoking and everything is a little rougher around the edges. I suppose, in a way, it may mirror Daphne and Simon's rougher (in general) romance. But I think it was also a way for Netflix to be be like -- see, we have this new, edgy historical romance.
I just wanted to note it here because the tone changes so drastically and by season 3, it's a much softer show, but reflects the romance better in being so.
Oh, also, I have to note the score. I love LOVE that Lady Whistledown gets her own theme music. It's kind of the this up and down hurried and fluttery melody that reflects the flying papers and whirlwind of mystery that LW presents. I love the music choices so much.
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There's also a neat little misdirect they do -- as LW proclaims that even if the ton doesn't know her, she knows them, and the camera intentionally lingers on a smug Lady Danbury, as if suggesting that she might be LW herself.
****
Marina
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Before I get into this scene, i just want to point out in the previous one that Eloise is the first Bridgerton to pick up LW. She also suggests she go see Pen to check in on her due to the disastrous showing in front of the queen.
When we pick up with the Featheringtons again -- Pen is in what is probably her usual place, over the by the window where she can watch Bridgerton house reading a book. (Or maybe pretending to read it when there's so much going on in the drawing room.) I tried zooming in on the book - but I can't tell what it is, other than it looks like poetry.
I should also point out this the first time we see her in one of her classic yellow dresses. I wish I was better with clothing meta, I do. The only thing I'd really want to point out is that there are flares of pink with in, and that combined with the bow in her hair help make her look young.
I should note that Lady Cowper is visiting the household, and that Lady Cowper seems to be a mean girl friend of Lady Featherington. They're gossiping away - but one should note that it's already obvious, from the first issue, that people suspect a Bridgerton is writing LW based on the attention the Bridgertons are getting. Is it surprising that Penelope is happy and fond of Daphne for getting the Queen's approval?
(This now makes me wonder if we got any Daphne and Pen interaction this season. I honestly don't remember, we shall see!)
Anyway, I adore the little smirk Pen gives when listening to Lady Cowper throw shade at her sisters. As we'll see in a moment, Pen gets a lot of crap thrown at her from her own family, she is going to revel a little when they get it back in their faces.
Also, oooff, Lady Featherington wanting Pen to put down the book so not to 'confuse' her thoughts. This comment alone marks the contrast between Pen and her mother's priorities.
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So, Lady Cowper and Lady Featherington continue gossiping about how Marina is going to stay with them during the season. Portia makes an interesting comment about how LW knows nothing, which is funny since Pen clearly knows everything. It's at this moment that Pen gets up to interject -- exclaiming that she wants to hold off being in society for another year like her bff Eloise, but Portia won't hear of it. Of course, LW would have no idea that Marina would be coming to stay - but it does make me wonder if Pen liked having written the bit of wrong information about the Featherington girls so to leverage a possibility of getting out of the season.
Pen really would like to stay back - and continue on with studies. It's an interesting little tidbit, not only does Pen really not want to be out in the spotlight, but she is one to value her education, and I'm sure she and Eloise have talked at length about things they could if they had the opportunity and learning more (and going to university) is definitely one of them.
Of course, Portia won't hear any of it - why would a woman want to fill her brain up with anything? :P But I will say, Portia does notice her daughter's nervousness, and is endeared by it. It's a rare moment of softness Portia has for her youngest daughter in this little exchange.
And... then there's Prudence and Phillipa, who come in with some not helpful comments about how she looks. And I do believe this is the only time anyone really makes reference to her weight. It's a bit eye rolly, but Prudence and Phillipa are only really reflecting the meanness their mother projects. I'm glad that Pen's weight is not really brought up, though, for the rest of the series.
I also want to note that -- Pen has a lot of elements of fairy tales and fantasies brought up in her story, and I remember one thing that stood out to me is how very much this was Cinderella-esque, with the wicked mother and sisters bit. (I am glad they kind of have a great reconcile arc in Season 3, tbh).
Also, Phillipa's line about curing acne with arsenic and lead is hysterical - partly because back they would have tried that and partly because Phillipa as the well meaning dunce is on clear display.
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I'm really kind of fascinated by these cards they're all looking at -- cards of eligible bachelors. I have so many questions. Are they like 1800 tinder profiles? Swipe right get a dance? Stake your claim? Collect them all and win a prize? Is there one for Colin and does Pen have it stored away in her secret stash under the floor boards?
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So, anyway, we get backstory and set up about Marina, and how she's poor and from a farm, and Portia is obnoxious in her elitist, snobby ways. And then Marina shows up looking as cute as a button. I love that the sisters look worried, but Pen is so happy. Just Marina being a beautiful girl puts Portia in her place. But I also think there's a bit of fascination there as well -- she's not from high society, and yet she's still pretty.
****
Lady Danbury's Ball
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Unaspiringly, we get a lot of expository dialogue coming from the LW narration -- I didn't really notice it until starting this project, but it's purely for us to learn more about the world and times of the show -- I don't necessarily think LW's readership would need to know any of this information.
Any ole way, this is the first time we get to see Pen out in society. She's not glued to a wall, but it's obvious that both she and her sisters are being looked over as every other lady at the place is being chatted up by eligible bachelors and danced with.
Let's talk her dress for a second -- as you zoom in, you can tell there's a butterfly spread across her chest. And not only is the butterfly the symbol of her family, but it's reflective of her story. She'll be the awkward, little caterpillar who transforms into the beautiful butterfly. It's just gonna take a little, as we're just starting her story out.
The string version of Ariana Grande's Thank U, Next plays in the background. And it's a nice complement for the scene - and all of the women making their way through the marriage mart, but it does play over the next little bit with Penelope watching Colin, and I think there are some lyrics from the song that really fit her :
Only wanna do it once, real bad Gon' make that last / I've got so much love (love) Got so much patience (patience) I've learned from the pain (pain) I turned out amazing (turned out amazing)
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Alright, so let's talk about this. Actually, no, let's talk about Colin's hair journey first. Because the boy's hair changes length in every scene in this episode, lol. It was not that long in the first scene. But yeah, let's talk about how he's dancing away unseriously with some pretty lady while his future wife is just two feet away, staring longingly at him.
Oh, Pen. Oh, girl... This is the first time we that Penelope has feelings for Colin, and it's the first time the show is acknowledging -- yeah, we know there's a love story here, we'll get to it, eventually... And, oh, they really sell it in that first moment, just how much she wants to be that girl dancing with him. And, I mean, she's probably remembering times they have danced together -- because Anthony will suggest as such in the next episode. But she's not one to go out and ask him -- she's bold enough to take on the entire ton in her writing, but not to ever dare confront her feelings for Colin, or even dare act upon them.
(And, I mean, idk, were ladies allowed to ask a gentleman for a dance, or did she have to wait?)
But also -- this is her first ball out in society. Even if they did dance together before, it was really more as children having fun together (and I'll make note of this when we get to that Irish dance at the end of the episode). Penelope is supposed to be seen as a real woman now -- a real marriage prospect, but as the camera pushes in on her longing face, you have to wonder if she's still believing it a possibility at this point, or if she already thinks it's not a thing that will ever happen to her.
And, you know, watching the scene again, I'm almost of mind that all of that could even be at the back of her mind. I think there's a simpler want and need in this moment -- the want to just be close to him, to be in proximity, to take joy in the little touches and brushes the dance gives. I feel like that's at the forefront more than anything here.
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Shifting focus entirely, we move to some Bridgerton sibling shenanigans. Anthony is being a butt over Daphne's propsects and then literally, out of nowhere, Colin and Benedict shows up, and Colin announces he's going to Greece on tour. I wonder if there was some dialogue cut or something because it's such an odd little comment to shoehorn in somewhere. You almost think, for a moment, he'll be ushered off the show like Francesca will be (thank god, not).
It's important for his character - because travel is going to be a huge part of his character, but it's just funny to me how waved away this moment is. Daphne is like, wow, cool that's interesting, and then Lady Danbury shows up and it almost feels like an irrelevant little comment.
I do kind of love that they all kind of hightail out of there trying to escape Lady Danbury but fail to do so.
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It's a good thing we set up Pen longing for Colin because that make this moment feel... perplexing. Is he gonna see our dear, sweet Penelope? Of course not. He's going to see the hot new thing to come to town, Marina. And he's just enchanted with her.
Portia and Lady Cowper are going to continue to gossip about Marina up in the balcony, and I find it hilarious when Portia is like - man she's ugly, and Lady Cowper does, like, a double take and is like, uh, wait, no?
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Colin's going to 'join the swarm' and dance with Marina. He's smitten with her right from the start. Hello Season 1's major B-Plot, we're now fully in motion.
I am fascinated by what Portia gossips about -- how it's kind of a big deal that Colin, because he's a Bridgerton, is attempting to court Marina so early. What exactly is it about the Bridgertons that make them such a big name family -- is it because they're super wealthy and Lady Bridgerton is a Viscountess? Is it Daphne's newly minted status a the Queen's Diamond? Is it because they're all hot? Is it just because Portia lives next to them? Because I feel like they don't seem particularly all that cool (said in a lovingly way). They're all awkward weirdos in their own special way. So I find it funny every time someone is like --oohh the Bridgertons because do any of these other people really care all that much?
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Awww, my dear Penelope!! Look at her standing all alone. She's even alienated from her sisters, look so sad that no one will come to ask her to dance. You know, that color may not suit her fully, but she does look cute as a button here.
You know what's interesting, though, when the Duke arrives, Portia tries to shuffle her daughters onto him, and no Portia would bother with Penelope. But Pen is nowhere to be seen. It's to be of note that Pen's going to go make herself be in places where she can't be see but she can take in all the drama.
And, on that note, I'm going to wrap this edition up! Until next time - will we make it through the rest of the episode?? No, probably not. :D There's so much in this first episode!!
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