#glitter gel pen writings

[delicatepointeofview]

Incomparable

fandom: Bridgerton

pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

summary: you don’t fit in quite well with the rest of the ton, but you still manage to catch the eye of the Viscount

note: this is for the girlies with resting bitch face, warning this is a fem!reader as much as i prefer a gender neutral reader, the heteronormative regency society just doesn’t allow it

this was already once posted before on my since deleted blog by my same current name but has been slightly edited :)

It was only one of the first balls of many and you were already regretting your unfortunate position as a newly presented flower of the season. You never thought you had what it took to be this year’s diamond, nor its ruby, nor its pearl, or any jewel for the matter. In your eyes you didn’t have the effortless glimmer that Daphne Bridgerton had last season nor the graceful steps of this season's ingénue, Edwina Sharma.

Of course, you had prepared all your life for this moment like every upper class girl. Knowing all that you should to be presented into society. You sat through the pianoforte lessons and even tried your hand at singing (which was a terrible mistake). You learned to embroider from your mother, much to the dismay of your aching fingers which always manage to burn and go numb far too quickly for her liking. You read all the textbooks even though you much preferred novels, never understanding the point of your tutors' comments about men wanting to marry educated girls. Quickly learning as you grew older and more outspoken that gentlemen like to know a woman is well read, but hardly ever that they use that knowledge in conversation.

But somehow, even after the painstakingly long hours at the modiste getting fitted for new dresses and the even longer time you spent getting into them, none of it was enough. Not the lessons, not the newly dropped hem, not the hours of sitting for your hair to be expertly styled and bejeweled by the finest gems your family had to offer. Still every other lady and her mama have had to comment on how you are so far from even the realm of possibly being considered a diamond. You heard their whispers through the silk and lace of their folding fans as clear as the night.

‘They barely graced the Queen with a smile,”

‘They’ll definitely grow to be a spinster with that face,’

Oh, but this wasn’t only from the women, of course not, they just have the decency to try and say this behind your back. You are well aware of how men love to grace you with their opinion, despite you caring very little for it. They always have the audacity to say these things straight to your somber face as if it would do you any good.

‘You know, you would be slightly prettier if you smiled,’

‘If you would smile, you would seem much more amiable,’

and most recently,

“I am sure more gentlemen would ask for a dance if you didn’t look so miserable, my Lady,”

You had been approached by a well-respected gentlemen named Mr. Hastings when you had escaped your mother’s disapproving clutches to find solace at the refreshments table. Drinking lemonade desperately wishing it were wine. He asked you to dance. Much to your misfortune you couldn’t fain a full dance card as the one clutched in your gloved hand was mockingly empty. This left you enduring a dreadfully boring conversation about his horse, how much it had cost him, how much it is actually worth, and just how incredible this horse was. You quite frankly wished to be anywhere else. As would anyone else you’re sure, but while they may have hid that behind a polite smile you showed your boredom evidently in your downturned lips.

But what would be the point in hiding it? You were tired of the facade that enwrapped these balls and society. Everyone was smiling, but was anyone truly happy? Even then who is happy and just goes around smiling like some loon. You were having a terrible time parading around the room with your mother’s stern grip on your arm showcasing you like a piece of meat, or a show pony— or to be terribly on the nose, Mr. Hastings prized horse.

Then once you had finally escaped her and found peace hoping to blend in to the wallpaper, you have been made to endure small talk and dance with a man you had little interest in. All while he made you listen to his horrendously dull conversation and he had the nerve to ask— no, to want you to not look miserable. This man who looked like molding swiss cheese and only spoke of his horse.

“I beg you pardon, sir?”

“That you look as if you are attending a funeral, my lady,” he says as he spins you following the choreography of the dance, “It is only polite that you smile as we dance.”

His own obviously fake smile is painted across his face, all thin lips and no teeth as he eyes you expectantly waiting for you to obediently heed his suggestion—or more likely it was a sort of social command. Polite society would have deemed you to be all smiles and perfect wit, to ease yourself out of this treacherous conversation you were wormed into with a poised grace or give in to his orders with a sickly sweet smile because it would be rude not to, no?

But no, indeed. You were not going to give in. No matter how many whispered or backhanded compliments you received only on your first night into society. You had seen how your female cousins and older friends had broken their backs to bend to the whims of society. Left behind forgotten ideals to suit their new suitors to get the ring and the wedding that would never even scratch at their fanciful girlish dreams of prince charmings and knights in shining armor. You would not let society break you.

“Well, I would smile if I was having a nice time. Maybe if you said something funny I would laugh or if the conversation was pleasant,” you had stopped dancing now, tired of this day and all the niceties and manners you were to follow.

You stood before him with your jaw clenched and your brows furrowed absolutely seething, “But you are far from pleasant. All you do, sir, is speak of your race horse and how much it is worth to you. If you care so much about your horse, I wonder why you ever wish to marry when all your attention seems to be going to your insipid horse!”

“Why you rude, intolerable girl—”

You didn’t care any more about the staring eyes of the ton or the gasps from appalled mamas. You would have welcomed all of Mr. Hastings angry words to at least hear something real for the first time all day. But instead he is cut short as the figure of a man approaches your side.

“I beg your pardon Mr. Hastings. How dare you raise your voice to a lady, have you no honor or decorum?”

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton stood before the two of you. Chin tilted upwards and shoulders set back in an unspoken challenge with the less titled man in front of you.

His question goes unanswered, but he continues nodding to you, “I believe the Lady makes a very agreeable point, sir. You speak entirely of your horse and nothing else, this would bore any with a brain in the ton.”

You almost would have laughed if you weren’t so shocked. What exactly was the Viscount doing? You hardly ever spoke other than short introductions and nods exchanged while you were in the company of his sister and your friend, Eloise.

But there was not a moment to think on this further as the scene that was forming around you was all too captivating. Mr. Hastings, who it should be mentioned once more felt so prideful of his horse, can be seen visibly shrinking shoulder hunching forward slumping as if he were a little boy who lost a game. He clears his throat, “Well then, I shall take my conversation elsewhere.”

Before he could turn to leave the eldest Bridgerton son stops him, “Sir, you have forgotten to apologize to the Lady,”

Mr. Hasting freezes in his place turning to eye the man and you bite your lip fighting the laugh that threatens to erupt at the odious man whose eyes widen and mouth becomes agape like a fish out of water.

“My apologies,” the words seem to clog at his throat and so he says nothing else. Nodding, “Lord Bridgerton...” and your name before meekly making his way through the crowd, his head down avoiding the gazes of the onlookers.

At this point most of the ton had gone back to their conversations around you, though there were still some lingering eyes as the dance floor had been oddly shaped as you and the Viscount remained standing in part of the appointed area. Anthony notices this and leads you further into the crowd.

Once he finds an agreeable spot he stops turning towards you, “I actually do wish to counter your statement, my lady,” he begins. You expect for a moment to be met with some stern lecture from a man who seems to think he’s entitled to an opinion of you as if he were your father (who you also do not think should have an opinion, but alas it is only 1814). Anthony surprises you however as instead he grins and says, “I actually believe Mr. Hastings would marry his horse if the Queen would allow it.”

And you couldn’t help but laugh, despite all your pride and pettiness to not grace this event or anyone in it with any pleasurable countenance. You laughed loudly tilting your head back, jeweled neck on display even letting out a small snort against your will. When you finally compose yourself, giggles dying down at the thought of Mr. Hastings in a horrid muddy green suit with a horse in a wedding dress, you can’t fight the smile that falls on your lips. Although unnatural to you, the light hearted joke and your vivid imagination make it easy. It lasts for a few seconds before you become very conscious of it as you let your lips fall back to their usual place.

Though if anyone was truly looking for it— which Anthony was— they would see the slight quirk in your lips as you told the Viscount, “It looks like you’ve gained the honor of making me laugh, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“I relish the title, my lady,” he says and you can tell he does from the smile that meets his ears, all teeth and pushed back cheeks. You acknowledge that this might be the realest encounter you have had since your debut. Anthony Bridgerton smiling from ear to ear was a sight to see.

He continues, “But I do have to disagree with the comments I have been hearing tonight. Smile or no smile you present the ladies looking to wed this season with quite the competition.”

“Me? Hardly, did you not hear my Lord, my countenance would never get me a marriage proposal,” you say fiddling with the hem of your gloves at your wrist.

“I would disagree, I think any reasonable man in attendance would be foolish to not see how incomparable you are, my lady.”

Incomparable.

You fight it like you had once your laugh, but you feel the heat spread to your cheeks and the nerves that begin to twist in your stomach. You didn’t need it, but the compliment was well appreciated after a night such as this one.

Giving you no time to compose the fluttering in your chest, Anthony adds, “Any lady who manages to be bold enough to tell Mr. Hasting how insufferable his horse talk is, ranks high in my book.”

“Well you might be the only one, sir,” you try to be as brave as you feel and dare to smile at him, but his gaze causes you to look away bashfully. That is when you notice your mother approaching and wishing not to make a fool in front of the Viscount you excuse yourself, “I do believe my mother has just been informed of the scene I have caused, so if you’ll excuse me.”

But before you can turn to go he calls out your name placing his warm bare hand on your own gloved fingers making you turn back to him.

“Would you save me a dance?”

And despite yourself, Anthony Bridgerton manages again to make you smile, “Of course”.

[javussyannihilator]

javert doodling in his notebook when he should be filing reports like

[alverelover]

[bardace]

I was thinking about how random it is that Lynne has a lot of seemingly extensive knowledge on the inner workings of torpedoes and how to launch and aim them, especially since she says she’s uninterested in science. Why does she know so much about such a specific thing? Why isn’t it brought up earlier?

And then I remembered: it IS brought up earlier, in a sense. Of course this girl likes torpedoes. She named her dog Missile.

[squishsquishy]

>> the_letter_salon

[gmanmedias]

via herstationary

[doctordoombignaturals]

drew some king boo gijinkas from other people that I enjoy + mine :]

in order of appearance;

@sunshineram , @applettun , @brosif40

@artsy-imogen

[reflection-s-of-stars]

On December 28th, 2024, the 111th anniversary of Pride and Prejudice’s 1813 publication, I would like to propose a Locked-Tomb related thought

At the start of Gideon the Ninth, Palamedes is 20 and Dulcinea is 27

At the start of Pride and Prejudice, Lizzy is 20 and Darcy is 27

Just imagine: modern AU Palamedes, reading Pride and Prejudice and imagining himself as Lizzy and Dulcie as Darcy

[ghostgum]

Someone please tell me why the ship name is Durgetash and not Goretash

[emile-hides]

Hi I'm the one who requested the Jancy caregiver and tbh the fact that Rosé and Grandma were already there is what gave me the courage to send mine <3 so thank you! And you're so right about both of them btw

I'M SO GLAD I SENT THOSE REQUESTS IN!!!!!!!! Just knowing there's another Agere Drawtective out there brings me so much joy <3

And no one asked but here's the full rundown on my Drawtectives Agere headcanons:

Rosé was the one who got them all into it and explained it to them. She's a Younger Teen/Big Sister regressor, specifically around 14 years old most times. She likes to treat York as a baby brother when she's regressed and do his hair and nails, and he just lets her. She doesn't really need a caregiver and did fine on her own for years, until she met Jancy and completely changed her mind she loves her cranky aloof mom <3

York doesn't get it but he doesn't need to get it to engage with Agere. He himself probably qualifies as a Little Brother Dreamer. He doesn't mentally regress, but he likes acting as Rosé's baby brother and finds a lot of comfort in not being expected to talk or read when she's regressed. He's yet to make the connection between finding comfort in these activities and missing his real older brother.

Grendan falls into that grey area between Pet Regressors and Therian/Otherkin types. She's not a puppy like most Pet Regressors, he's more of an Old Dog type. The kinda dog that just lays there while you poke at it and tie it's fur in ponytails, the perfect babysitter type dog. So Grenda is both a Therian Companion Caregiver and a Pet Regressor at the same time.

The three of them only ever regress together, usually Rosé is the trigger, getting caught up in old habits or silly teen girly things and dragging the other two in with her. Their favorite place to regress is their shared apartment and Jancy's office (when Rosé doesn't have work to be doing of course)

Jancy is super observant and obviously knows the difference when the trio have regressed, but she barely treats them any different. She finds Rosé likes praise and showing off York, so she'll applaud at whatever weird hairstyle she's done for him and compliment her work, but the other two are perfectly fine with the normal way she speaks to them. Probably because Jancy is the type to speak to a baby and a dog like one would a police officer at a crime scene.

Eugene is the only one I can't figure out, I feel like he'd get the most out of regression, and sense he's their son I feel like the crew caregiving for a really tiny Genie would be very cute, but I dunno it doesn't click in my head. Maybe he just doesn't know about Agere yet, or that it happens to him. He's just unaware about himself in a lot of aspects.

I think Caregiver Felix would be very cute though...

[starzwithapen]

Viva writes fanfics of her oc Biva [who has blonde hair and pink skin BUT IS TOTALLY NOT HER GUYS.] brutally murdering her father Beppy and if you question her about it she will simply tell you it's just a silly story it doesn't mean anything!! ^w^ and then she'll go prance in a field of flowers

[hotties4gojo]

"too man for me" is so real BAHAHAH nanami's cool but i like them a little bit fruity what can i say. and on that note thank you for being one of the few people here writing wlw x reader stuff cuz i eat that shit UP every time

MEEEEE and I like the devastatingly pretty men too 😭 shaking my head rubbing my temples… which is exactly why I just can’t get behind nanamiiiii idkkk i just cannot muster up much emotion towards himmmhrjsernen

you’d think that I’d be the same with toji cos he’s very #Man but he somehow bypassed that and he’s been branded as ‘wife’ in my head. i look at him and i’m like awww my wife 😁🥺 don’t know how this came to be but well!

and i’m glad that u eat it up ^_^ plating more servings for u rn 👩🏽‍🍳

jokes aside I love writing wlw x reader and i especially love the fact that you all enjoy it. i feel like in most fanbases it’s rare that you see someone writing that, Especially among jjk fans 😭😭 like off the top of my head, the only creators i know of (and tbf this is far as #I’m aware, im definitely missing some) that write wlw x reader for jjk are nana and this one person that’s no longer active

which sucks so bad like mannnn 😭 we starving out here

[cptnjeanlucpicard]

Ah, you must be The Captain Picard. Q likes to talk.. a lot about you. More than either of us are probably comfortable with but hey at least once one gets him to talk about you he stops whatever 'game' he is playing. I was just wondering since the entity made it sound like you two are close, like really really close.. Could you please tell your Q to leave us, the Sintons, alone? Or at least to visit us less? We would really appreciate to have our cities intact for longer than just a couple of moons.

Oh, dear...well, I can certainly try, although I'm not sure if Q would listen to me. Our relationship isn't exactly friendly much of the time, and I'm not sure he'd take kindly to being told off by me.

[sporesgalaxy]

since I learned so much animation in flipnote hatena, I spent YEARS never even wondering how people animated things synced with audio before you could instantly check the results with a computer......well I finally bothered looking that up a while ago and now I've been daydreaming about using a rudimentary animation timesheet to make a lipsynced animation for weeks. It's always so funny to me how much I tend to love the most tedious parts of animation.

[neolxzr]

happy valentines day to the love of my life

[hoeratius]

Is the late Roman republic ok???